#kept seeing fics with both soaps and this happened

[killerpancakeburger]

Y/N: *staring at a picture of Captain MacTavish* *sighs wistfully* 22!Soap: What does he have that I don't!? Y/N: Hmm... the scar? Scars are sex- Ghost: SOAP NO Soap: SOAP YES *evades Ghost and keeps trying to recreate 09!Soap's eye scar on himself*

[auspicioustidings]

https://www.tumblr.com/auspicioustidings/734619885087375360/i-cannot-write-for-shit-right-now-so-any-little

Hmmmm I’m seeing so many x single mom readers and not sure if this is something you’re even interested in BUT

Simon meeting his pretty new neighbor while she’s moving I and realizes she is either a.) heavily pregnant or b.) has a very young baby so Simon goes “hmmmm mine now :)” and helps her out a little? (Alternatively, if you don’t wanna do Simon for this, then maybe Price?)

(Also if you haven’t read @peachesofteal’s Light On fic, Simon x single mom reader, I implore if you to do so!!! It’s so good)

Peaches Light On fics, and I am being so deadass serious, give me such a flood of serotonin any time I see a new one. Everyone get your butt over there because they are the standard for single mother content as far as I am concerned!

That being said, I've put a bit of a twist on this so it's not really what you requested at all, sorry :') I could not do a similar idea to Peaches because there is nothing I can do to improve perfection!

Tactical Action

Words: 1.1k

CWs: mentions of death

“It's not a shame Price, it's fucking ridiculous.”

Simon Riley was furious looking at the paperwork. It wasn't often that TF141 kept tabs on a promising rookie so when they did he expected nothing but excellence. What he did not expect was a large ‘Early Service Leaver’ stamp over an otherwise exemplary record.

“Their brother died in that warship collision, can't blame them for wanting out.”

“My brother was murdered, I kept fucking going.”

He had met you once when Johnny had dragged him. His Sergeant was both excited and annoyed that someone had gotten the new record for the 3rd selection phase. It made sense to get some feel for you then, if you were as good at escape, evasion and tactical questioning as the test scores suggested then the 141 needed to have you on their radar because the PMCs certainly would. 

You were a determined thing, shoulders back and addressing them with just the right amount of respect. Not arrogant, but not a pushover. Soap had been talking about how much he wanted to get his hands on you the whole drive back to base because he was a horny idiot and you were a challenge he found intriguing. Simon had just rolled his eyes and added your record to the small pile in Price's office. 

He knew a little of your background. Both parents gone, one sibling in the navy. Well one sibling now KIA. He could have understood taking leave, but to quit entirely? It made him angry, he thought it was a waste of potential. Price could see how it affected him and he sighed. 

“Go talk to them then. But do not get yourself reported for harassment and intimidation Simon, if they don't want back in then we make our peace with that.”

That was all the permission he needed. He probably should have taken Soap really, someone who could be comforting and coax you back. But fuck it, you were supposed to be good under pressure so he was going to give you some hard damn advice on not bloody giving up.

–

Exhausted didn't even begin to describe how you felt. This was the hardest thing you had ever done, but you were not going to just give up. You couldn't, not with this tiny thing relying on you. 

She had never even got to meet her parents. Your brother died just before the due date in that accident and then his girlfriend had died from complications in childbirth. You had promised her you would look after their baby if anything happened, made an oath that you'd not let her parents anywhere near such an innocent little thing. 

So you were on your own with nothing but grief and exhaustion and an ever dwindling death in service payment. They would pay part of your brother's pension out each month at least for the baby, but you were terrified that it wouldn't be enough to give her a life she deserved. She certainly deserved her parents and not her fathers ill equipped sibling, but you could only do your best even with the knowledge it would never be enough. 

You flinched when there was a hard knock at the door of your flat, freezing but taking a breath when the baby remained sleeping in your arms. You needed to move at one point you knew, a flat in a bit of a rough area was fine for a soldier (ex-soldier you reminded yourself) but not so much for a baby. 

The security you had upgraded as best you could at the moment and you checked the door camera to see Lieutenant Riley. Ghost. You had met him briefly once, but what was a legend like him doing here? Shit. You knew you looked a wreck but it wasn't like you could ignore him so you opened the door, bouncing baby girl gently to keep her sleeping. 

Simon's planned tirade died the moment he saw the situation. You had a baby. Oh that changed his tirade significantly. Your marital status had listed single, so he could only assume you had gotten yourself knocked up by some casual hookup. That was unacceptable in a soldier, so bloody stupid. 

“Shit” you cursed when she woke up, heading back inside and giving him a nod of invite.

You bounced her and tried to coo at her to go back to sleep. To please God go back to sleep. You never knew what she wanted, it felt like whatever you did was always wrong. And of course then she started wailing and the Lieutenant was in your flat closing the door behind him witnessing your absolute failure to take care of a baby. 

“Oh for Christ sake, give her here.”

Simon took the baby and hoisted the little thing up onto his shoulder, rubbing hard at her back. 

“When was the last time you fed her?”

“I- well, just before you got here. 10 minutes ago maybe? Just got her to sleep.”

“Did you burp her?”

“Oh. I…” you replied, straining yourself in an attempt not to cry. “No. I forgot.”

While his eyes were sharp on you his hands and voice were gentle and soothing for the baby. He was good at this. Did he have kids? Fuck was everyone just innately good at caring for babies but you? 

“Didn't stop to think if you could take care of her before having her?” 

“She's not mine. Well I suppose she is. I'm her only living relative, or only decent one at least. I, um… that warship accident from a few months back. My brother died during it and her mum passed during the birth. I'm her legal guardian now. I'm what she has sir, it was the best tactical action given the circumstance” you said, straightening up despite your exhaustion and prolonged terror at being responsible for such an innocent little thing. 

Simon cocked his head to the side as the baby on his shoulder burped and gurgled, now trying to get back to sleep. You were still a soldier he saw then, you were fighting back your emotions to give him a report on the situation. He reevaluated after the sitrep and took a moment to find the best course of action.

“Marry me then.”

“Sir?”

“We can get it done tomorrow. Might take a bit of time to get a decent house but we'll stay in my flat until then, better area. Still going to be out on assignment a lot but any death benefit would go to you and the widows pension would set you up for life. I'm what you have rookie, it's the best tactical action.”

“Yes sir.”

[modelbus]

Sorry not sorry for ignoring all my requests to write this!! Yes this is ANOTHER cod song fic… As a warning I haven’t played the games and reality is what I make it <3

!! this gets VERY VERY VERY suggestive at the end, no devils tango actually happens though !! be warned !!

Pairing: Gn!Reader x Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

The smoke cloud billows out his mouth Like a freight train through a small town

Unlike Ghost, you don’t smoke. Even though you’re a soldier, you prefer not to cut your life short by smoking death sticks. Ghost, you’re fairly certain, couldn’t give less of a shit if he lives or dies.

You stopped trying to convince him not to smoke a while ago.

Although you have a general distaste for the smell of smoke, you have a general taste for Ghost, so any time he steps out to smoke you follow along like a shadow. The first few times he had ignored you. Then there was a time where he—very quietly—told you that you didn’t have to follow him, that he knew you didn’t like smoking. You, lovesick, stupid, head-over-boots for your lieutenant, kept going with him. You were rewarded with actual conversations.

Ghost exhales smoke, mask pushed up over his nose. “Stop lookin’ at my mouth.”

You laugh, turning your head away. “It’s a rare sight.”

“Not for you.”

He blows out more smoke, and you focus on the lighter he tossed you. An old one, rusted metal that heats up when the flame is on for too long. It’s got a charm to it that you love. Same as him, you once joked.

“You only expose your mouth when you’re putting it to use.” You tease, eyes darting up to gauge his reaction.

“I’d put it to use now, but you hate the taste of cigarettes. Stop teasing because I decide I don’t care.” Despite his threat, you can see his lips quirking up in the smallest hints of a smile.

“Sir yes sir.”

He snorts. “Tease.”

“You love it.”

They shake their heads saying “God help her” When I tell ‘em he’s my man

“Don’t know how you put up with him.” Soap laughs, arm slung casually over your shoulders. “You’re a saint for it.”

“Ghost?” You ask, although you already know Soap is referring to the lieutenant who is currently barking orders at some recruits.

Barking orders and running them into the ground, that is. It’s training course day, which means they get to suffer under Ghost’s command. Price called it “building character.” Soap had called it “cruel and inhumane punishment.”

“No, the other hardhead you’re datin’.” Soap squeezes you. “Yeah, Ghost.”

“He’s not a hardhead.” You protest. As if he heard you, Ghost’s head turns to look at you from across the field. His eyes narrow at Soap’s arm around you, but must ultimately deem it harmless.

“He just threatened me! And he ain’t a hardhead?”

“He didn’t even say anything, Soap, how—“

“With his eyes, stupid. Staring right daggers.”

“He was not.” You shove Soap away, laughing.

“He was! You’re just used to it! God help you, you’re clearly delusional already!”

“The only one who needs God’s help is you and the recruits.”

Soap shouts some curse at you as you walk away, but you give him the middle finger as you hurry off toward Ghost before he kills a recruit. Again.

God help you? Yeah right. You knew what you were doing. God needed to help those recruits.

His hand so calloused from his pistol softly traces hearts on my face

Calloused fingertips brush over your skin before he commits, cupping your cheek. Delicate, in the way he learned from handling guns and knives and explosives. Soft, in the way he learned from you.

“Pretty thing.” Simon murmurs, an accusation or a compliment. It doesn’t really matter which it is, anyway.

“Kiss me.” You whine playfully, although you know he won’t.

He loved staring at you almost as much as he loved you in his bed, both of which he has right now. You’ll get your kiss eventually, no doubts about that, but only after he gets his way. Greedy man, but you knew that the second you laid eyes on him.

“Patience is a virtue.” He warns, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone. “Wait.”

“Wait for you to get tired of looking at me?”

The look he levels at you is unamused, and you shut your mouth quickly.

“Wait for me to memorize your face again. Gotta make sure I see it in my dreams.” He grins at you, subtle and cheeky, aware of the butterflies erupting in your stomach.

Damn him. Damn him and his too-smooth lines.

You close your eyes, giving in and waiting as you always do. There’s a high chance he made that line up, but there’s an equally high chance it’s the honest truth.

“Eyes open.” Simon orders, tapping your cheek until you open them to glare at him. “There’s my pretty eyes.”

“Am I a pretty thing or are my eyes?” You ask rhetorically. You’re saying the retort, but the only thing on your mind is an ongoing chant of ‘yours yours yours.’

“Yes.” Finally, he leans in and kisses you. “Stay.” He gets up, heading to the bathroom.

“Ass.” You groan, loud enough that you know he can hear it. His gruff laugh echoes back to you.

Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man No really I can

Simon, your Simon, mouths at your neck, occasionally biting as he sees fit. Tease. Nasty, horrible tease.

There’s still blood on his clothes from the mission, but he shed the soaked gloves the second he started touching you. Claimed your skin was too pristine to dirty up, too perfect.

Ironic, considering what a mess he’s making of you now.

“Please.” You gasp out, digging your hand into his hair. It doesn’t even deter him as he sucks a hickey that’ll be large enough to raise eyebrows.

“One day I’ll tie you up and teach you how to wait.” He practically growls, tone low enough to be one if you squint.

Low enough to send a whole new wave of heat through you. And it certainly doesn’t help that you’ve still got the memory of him tearing through enemies on the mission. Of him jerking his gun up to shoot a man through the heart, mere feet from him.

If it was a crime to be attracted to his danger, you were in for a lifetime.

“Please, Simon.” You draw out the plea, hoping he’ll stop being a leech to your neck and move lower.

“You can do better, love.”

He reaches around, untangling your hand from his hair to pin your wrists above you. His fingers dig into the intimate interiors of your wrists, not too hard, but certainly not soft.

The worst (or perhaps best) part about his threat to tie you up is that you’d let him. Unquestionably. Simon Riley was a man who could rip others apart with his bare hands, but he was also a man who you’d let take you apart and put you together a thousand fold.

You loved it every time he did, after all.

“I’ll be good?” You try. “I swear, Si. Please.”

He hovers there, body weight holding you down, pressed to the bed, as he considers. Finally, he exhales, and you know you’ve got what you want.

“Atta girl. Now let me take care of you, yeah?”

[nightingale-ghost-writer]

Maybe [Soap x Fem!OC]

Summary: Soap finds a kindred spirit during a trying time

Author’s Notes: This is a little of a long intro, feel free to skip it! I’ve been reading fanfiction for years, and I’ve started dozens of fics. This is the first one I’ve ever finished. (11.8K words!!!) It started off with me wanting Soap to get some medical care for his unaddressed injuries after Alone, and just exploded from there. I wanted to really highlight the bond he and Ghost formed, and then I wanted to give him love (because he deserves it!). I know it’s a bit sparse on the Price and Gaz side of things, but I feel like their bonds with Soap are sort of assumed going into this game. This game, to me, is about Soap learning that sometimes the right thing to do isn’t always so obvious, and Ghost learning to work with a team, thanks to Soap. I loved this campaign dearly, so I have a lot of dialogue carried over from scenes I really wanted to set. That being said, I changed some stuff to better incorporate my OC, Daniela. Writing reader-insert fics is a skill I just do not possess. If you’re reading, I hope you enjoy it!

And to my dear @uselsshuman, who is the furthest thing from useless, thank you so much for your encouragement to write this. Your writing and support really inspired me to get this done. This one’s for you. ❤

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or events from Modern Warfare

Warnings: language, canon-typical violence, suggestive content

Soap tucked himself behind a door, braced his back against the wall, and did his level best to breathe as silently as possible. He could hear the Shadows’ footsteps and radio chatter nearby.

He pulled back the hammer on the desert eagle he’d found in the café safe and held his breath. He didn’t want to get into a gunfight, not here. Not with them. He had decent cover, but his arm throbbed where a bullet was lodged, his ribs stung where his plates had kept him from another, his whole body ached from his jumps and falls in the city, and he was almost certain he’d damaged something in his left hip the day before. 

That particular injury came from running along cliff faces to escape the cartel, which was bad enough. Adding the Shadows to that? That was terrible.

As the footsteps faded, Soap let out a slow, low breath and slumped to the ground. He let his eyes drift shut, just for a moment, taking stock of his ability to get across the plaza to the church. To Ghost. As if he knew that he was being thought about, Ghost’s voice crackled through the comms.

“Soap?“ he asked softly.

“Ghost,” whispered Soap.

“You alright?”

Soap opened his eyes and took a deep breath, peeked around the door, and answered “Think I found a way through, LT.”

“Shadows are everywhere. I’ll hold ‘em off until we RV in front of the church and secure a vehicle for exfil.”

“Roger that.” Soap crept up through the shop, taking care to stay low and move quietly.

“Give ‘em hell, Johnny. We’re almost there,” rumbled Ghost. After a moment’s pause, he added “Listen, I picked up an ally. Should help us get out of here a little easier. You’ve just got to us and we’ll get to a vehicle.”

Soap’s eyes narrowed. Ally? In Mexico? Only two people came to mind, and they were both “detained”.

“Is it Price?” he asked after a moment’s thought.

“No, one of Alejandro's Vaqueros. Wasn’t on base when Graves moved in. Showed up, realized something was wrong. We found each other killing Shadows, decided to team up.”

Soap chanced raising his head to peer out of the shop window. Seeing no Shadows, he moved for the door. “And you trust ‘im?”

“Enough, at least for now.”

“Copy that, LT. I’m on my way.”

He wiggled the door handle, but of course, nothing could be so easy. It was locked. So he pulled out the last of his makeshift pry tools, braced it in the door jamb, and pulled.

Lots of things happened all at once, then.

The door swung open. Soap yelled “Fuck!” while the Shadow said “what the- GET DOWN!”, and hit Soap with the butt of his rifle. The Shadow called his position, Soap heard “kill him!”, and then the Shadow dropped to the ground. Soap scrambled back, pressing the heel of his hand into his eye and groaning. His vision swam and his ears rang and he couldn’t get his bearings. Two more Shadows, running for the building, dropped to the sharp report of silenced sniper fire.

“Holy hell. Ghost, was that you?” Soap asked.

“Who else?” snapped Ghost’s rough voice. “Now go!”

He scrambled to his feet. And ran.

He ran as fast as his bruised body would let him, ducking behind cars and spraying with an SMG he’d picked up. He heard gunfire coming from ahead of him and cursed, grabbing for his radio.

“Ghost, how copy?”

“Johnny, got company in the church and they are not here for forgiveness. Get to the steps, we’ll be there!”

In the last few meters, Soap saw Ghost come careening out of the church doors, followed closely by a much smaller figure dressed all in black. They both turned to shoot at their followers as Soap and Ghost called out to each other. Ghost vaulted over the wrought iron fence, followed by their ally, and the three ran back the way Soap had come.

“We need a vehicle. On me!” Ghost barked. “Stay sharp. They know we’re here and they know it’s us. They’ll send more.”

Minutes that felt like hours later, after a brief firefight, the three piled into a pickup, panting and on high alert. 

“Alright, Johnny! You made it.”

“We made it, LT.” 

After ramming two Shadows with their stolen pickup, and nearly losing Ghost to another, they peeled off down an alley. Soap sagged against the seat, closing his eyes again. His heart and head were pounding.

“How’s that arm, Johnny?” asked Ghost.

Soap raised his head. “I’ll live,” he answered. He shivered violently, once, and Ghost cast a concerned glance in his direction.

“You sure it’s not infected?”

“Of course I’m not sure,” snapped Soap. Softening his voice, he added “But I think it’s just the cold. Between the tunnels and the rain, LT? Feels like I’m back home.”

Ghost nodded slowly. For a long moment, the two just basked in each others’ presence, grateful to have made it back together. Then, Ghost said “Daniela, would you take a look at the Sergeant’s arm? Can’t have him dying on us.”

Soap’s head snapped around to lock eyes with the ally he’d forgotten. Later, he’d remember this moment as an indication of his quickly deteriorating state. In the moment, though, he couldn’t wrap his head around anything but the woman in front of him.

Sometime between their getting into the truck and down the street, the black balaclava and hood had come off. The woman staring back at him had light olive skin and a mass of shiny black curls plastered to her head by rain. A thin, jagged, silvery scar ran from her cheekbone to her jaw, and her full lips were pursed in a barely-there smile. Soap thought he saw scarred flesh at the collar of her jacket. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from hers. They were the bluest blue he’d ever seen- dark like the ocean, clear like the sky on a cloudless night, and as sharp as glass. Familiar, somehow.

He hadn’t necessarily had expectations of how this ally would look, but this was as far from expectation as possible. He had pictured a man, but even the fact that she was a woman wasn’t most shocking of all. It was her beauty.

He flinched when her hand landed lightly on his right shoulder, pulling gently.

“No, we can’t,” she said. Her voice was soft, musical, lightly accented. The lilt of just those three words had Soap’s head spinning for, at least he thought, completely different reasons than it had been spinning earlier. He adjusted his body so that rather than leaning with his left arm over the seat, his right arm hung over. The woman looked straight to the wound, gently prodding the flesh around the bullet wound, and Soap bit his tongue to keep from hissing in pain.

“Does that hurt?” she asked.

Soap tried to be nonchalant. He shrugged and said “Not so much.”

Ghost snorted. Soap didn’t blame him. The words sounded strained even to his own ears. And based on the older man’s jokes about not watching the cartel’s videos of his death “more than once”, this seemed like just the kind of thing he might find amusing. The thought made Soap smirk. The woman rolled her eyes, setting them on his again.

“What’s your name, hen?”

“I am Daniela. You are Soap, yes?” Soap nodded. Daniela nodded as well, focusing back on his arm. “Your Ghost, he told you that I am with Los Vaqueros?”

Soap and Ghost exchanged a look at “your Ghost”. Now Soap really was smirking, and he imagined that Ghost was grimacing under his mask.

“Aye, that he did,” he replied. He watched as Daniela unzipped her tactical vest and tore a strip of fabric from the bottom of her shirt. She began winding it around his bicep, grimacing slightly at the wheeze of pain he couldn’t hold back.

“Well we have a safehouse. We’ll get there, stock up, get you patched up a little better, and come up with a plan.” After carefully tying a knot in the makeshift bandage, she raised her eyes to Soap’s again. “It’s the best I can do right now.”

“I appreciate it,” he replied. He held her gaze for a moment before turning to face Ghost. “Alright, Ghost?”

Ghost glanced at him again. Even behind the mask, Soap could see his expression soften. “Alright, Johnny. You did well back there.” Soap grinned, and could tell by the crinkling around his eyes that Ghost was grinning, too.

“All thanks to you, LT.”

The rest of the ride was filled with soft chatter about Alejandro, Los Vaqueros, Graves, and the safehouse… and Soap trying, and failing, not to feel Daniela’s burning stare on the back of his neck.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Soap thought he was done for when Ghost shouted for him not to move. His feet had just touched the safehouse floor and Ghost was perched in the window. Before Soap even had time to react, a throwing knife flew past his head, embedding itself in the column just a meter away. Then he recognized Rodolfo’s voice. 

“Quién está ahí?”

“Rodolfo!”

Rodolfo rounded the corner. “Soap, Ghost! You’re alive!” Soap could see the moment Daniela mounted the window. Rodolfo’s face crumbled, his whole body seeming to sag with relief. “Daniela!”

“Rodolfo!” She leapt from the windowsill, surging forward to wrap her arms around Rodolfo’s waist. His own arms came around her shoulders and the two rocked back and forth, holding each other, speaking in rapid-fire Spanish that Soap had no hope of understanding. Rodolfo kissed the side of Daniela’s head, holding her to him tightly. Soap looked away. His eyes met Ghost’s and the two shared a slight shrug.

While Rodolfo and Daniela chattered away, Ghost stepped toward Soap.

“Daniela should be able to fix up that arm,” he said. “She’s not a formally trained medic, but she has lots of field training and experience. She told me she’s been patching up Los Vaqueros for years.”

“Aye. How’d you say you found her? Fighting Shadows?”

Ghost looked her way, nodding. “Just a few minutes before I got you on comms, I heard a scuffle. Thought it might be you, so I went in to assist. Lo and behold, I find that one slicing up a Shadow. ‘Nother pair showed up, though, and one got her in a choke-hold. Would’ve carried her off to who knows where if I hadn’t shown up.”

Soap nodded slowly. He didn’t need any more explanation. He knew the implications of what Ghost was saying and it made his blood boil.

Ghost shrugged. “She trusted me enough since I’d just saved her life, and I trusted her enough since she was fighting them and didn’t raise her gun at me. Plus, I think she’s as dedicated to the cause as Alejandro and Rodolfo.”

“Why’s that?” asked Soap. But before Ghost could answer, Rodolfo cut in.

“Where were you guys?”

“On the run,” answered Ghost.

“I was on the run,” corrected Soap. “Ghost waited for me.”

Rodolfo nodded. “Of course, no?”

Dread sank in Soap’s stomach. “No-” he began. But Ghost cut him off.

“Yes,” he said firmly, locking eyes with Soap again. “We’re a team. All of us.”

That stunned Soap into silence. He’d known they’d bonded trying to escape Las Almas with their lives, but for all of his teasing about Ghost taking a shine to him, he hadn’t actually believed that Ghost would say the same thing.

He was touched.

Maybe even more touched by the fact that the legendary lone-wolf Ghost considered him part of his team. It was likely the highest compliment he would ever get from him.

So while Rodolfo and Ghost started in on their plan to get into the prison, Soap settled down against the safehouse wall with an MRE from Alejandro’s supplies. The adrenaline shot he’d managed to get his hands on in Las Almas was waning, and he could feel every sore muscle, the bullet in his arm, and his likely sprained hip sharply. He tried to tune in to the conversation, but his attention was immediately lost when Daniela approached him with a med kit.

She grinned a bit wryly at him. “Mind if I take a better look at that arm?” Soap nodded and braced himself to stand, but Daniela jumped forward, holding out a hand. “No, don’t get up,” she said. Soap settled back to the ground as she crouched by him, reaching for her makeshift bandage from earlier.

Soap studied her as she worked. Her hair had dried and now sat at least a few centimeters higher on her head, tight ringlets falling to her shoulders. Her eyebrows furrowed just a bit as she carefully removed the bloodied fabric. Her movements were calculated, washing the wound and looking at it closely.

“How did you join Los Vaqueros?” Soap asked. For a moment, Daniela didn’t acknowledge him. Then she raised her gaze to his.

Instead of answering his question, she said “I need to get the bullet out. It’s going to hurt. Think you can handle it?”

Soap nodded once, sharply. Her gaze softened. “I don’t have any painkillers. This isn’t going to be some… little pain. It’s going to hurt a lot.”

Soap cocked a wry grin back at her. “Just so long as my screaming doesn’t bother you,” he teased. A wicked spark lit in her eyes at that.

“It won’t bother me. Maybe I’d like to hear you scream.”

Soap’s jaw dropped. It was exactly the type of thing he’d say, but having it said to him was dumbfounding. Who was this woman?

Her smile only grew as she watched him try to compose himself. He was grateful when her gaze dropped back to the task at hand, sterilizing a pair of forceps. He was sure his face was flaming red.

“Los Vaqueros saved my life when I was sixteen,” she said softly. “My village leader refused the cartel’s demands, so El Sin Nombre set to burning the village down. I was one of three survivors.” That explained Ghost’s certainty of her dedication.

She moved to his right side, between his leg and outstretched arm, and gripped his bicep below the bullet wound.

“My whole family died that day.”

She set the forceps at the wound’s entry. Soap took a deep breath.

“I have burns all over my body from our house burning down.” That explained the scarring at her neck.

Soap lurched forward, gasping, when she dug the forceps in. The pain was so blinding that he nearly missed Daniela cursing softly in Spanish before sitting on his right leg, leaning her body against his to keep him from moving. Nearly missed. But didn’t. 

“Lo ciento,” she whispered, sparing him a concerned glance. He grit his teeth and leaned his head back against the wall, chest heaving as he took deep breaths through his nose. 

“I’m sorry,” he gritted out. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you.”

Daniela shrugged. “Alejandro pulled me out of that fire,” she continued. Her tone was light, but seemed forced. Soap wasn’t sure whether it was her attempt to calm him or to pretend her story didn’t bother her.

He felt the moment that the forceps grasped the bullet. Took a deep breath. Steeled himself. Nothing prepared him for the feeling. He’d been shot before, multiple times. Bullet removal wasn’t a walk in the park, but he hadn’t realized just how much the painkillers mattered.

Soap was not proud of the whimper he let out when Daniela yanked the bullet out in one clean motion. She dropped the forceps onto a medical tray and lightly patted his cheek before inspecting the wound closely, muttering about infection and pointedly not meeting his gaze. She poured antiseptic over the wound and reached for a bottle of pills. 

“Here, take these. Antibiotics,” she said. After watching Soap swallow the pills, she picked a needle and thread up out of the med kit and continued. “Rodolfo threw a wet blanket over me. They put ointment on my burns and fed me. They offered me a home. They taught me to fight. They’ve been my family ever since.” 

Soap felt a pang of kinship at her words. He flinched slightly when the needle pierced his skin, but the pain died to a dull burn as Daniela kept stitching.

“Now that, I do understand,” he said. 

“You have no family?”

“No. Just the 141.”

After a few more strokes, she tied off the thread and laid a hand on his chest.

“They are my brothers. We must get Alejandro back.”

Soap reached up to cover her hand, belatedly hoping she wouldn’t be able to feel his heart pounding when she met his gaze. “We will, hermana.”

The smile she gave him was small, but her eyes were warm. It lasted for a brief moment before she arched an eyebrow. 

“Hermana?” She leaned forward until her mouth brushed Soap’s ear and he was sure that she could feel his heartbeat stutter. “I certainly hope not.”

With that, she picked up her medical kit and sauntered away, leaving Soap to stare after her in shock.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Getting into the prison compound was easy enough. 

“Trash bin on your right, time to take out the trash.”

“Shut up, Soap, fucking hell.”

A giggle from Daniela.

“Shoot him.”

“No, got something else in mind.”

“Fucking beautiful, sir!”

Impressed mumbling from Rodolfo.

“Cut and paste him, Ghost.”

Soap and Ghost’s banter amused Daniela to no end, even though Soap was sure he’d never been so anxious in his life. Having Ghost’s life almost solely in his hands was a responsibility he never wanted to feel again. But working with Rodolfo again helped to ease his mind.

Nearly being killed by Alejandro was less than ideal, but made worth it to watch him reunite with Rodolfo and Daniela.

“Alejandro! Al- it’s me, hermano!”

“Coronel, relájese somos nosotros!”

“Soap, Rudy, Ghost! Daniela!”

“Didn’t think we’d leave you, did ya?”

“What took you so long, pendejos?”

Getting out wasn’t quite as easy. 

“Exfil vehicles are set. Ghost planted charges to help us get out.”

“With Johnny’s help.”

“Eh, I can’t call Soap ‘Johnny’.”

“Don’t. Only Ghost can pull that off.”

“Aww, really? Only your Ghost? What about me?”

“Yes, Johnny, what about Daniela?”

“Can it, LT.”

But between Los Vaqueros and the 141, they made it. Soap couldn’t put into words how much relief he felt upon seeing Gaz and hearing the old man’s voice. After being hoisted to the top, he and Daniela ended up shoulder to shoulder, her covering him while he detonated the Shadows vehicles.

“Have you been with the 141 long?” she shouted over the sounds of gunfire.

“The 141 hasn’t been around all that long,” he shouted back. “But yeah, I’ve been with ‘em since the start.” He raised his rifle, picking off three snipers with three shots.

Daniela raised an impressed eyebrow. “I can see why!”

Soap grinned wide, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye as he raised the detonator. “Would you be impressed if I told you I rigged the explosives for these things, too?”

Daniela returned his grin full force. “I would be.”

Soap’s grin only widened before he pressed the button, eyes locked with Daniela’s. He lowered his voice and said “Ka-freaking-boom, baby.” She’d giggled when he said it earlier, and as the APC exploded, she let out another delighted squeal.

“Handsome and clever? This is a good combination, Johnny,” she said. Soap was grateful that shooting was such second nature to him because in that moment, all coherent thoughts ceased to exist. When he managed to look back to Daniela, she was smiling slyly. She picked off a sniper from across the yard and Soap shook his head. Witty, intelligent, beautiful, and a good shot. 

When the door to their right crashed open, Soap threw himself in front of Daniela to cover her as they each shot one of the men inside. Ghost barked at Soap about weapons, and he came back to the wall with a grenade launcher. He released several grenades before the last of Alejandro’s men mounted the wall top, and then made sure that Daniela went down the other side before him.

When he stumbled getting to their transport out, he chalked it up to battle fatigue, which he told both Ghost and Daniela when they asked whether he was okay. Neither looked convinced, but neither questioned him. They did sit on either side of him for the ride back to the safehouse, though.

Daniela leaned close to him. “How do you feel?” she asked.

“Never better,” he lied. His whole body throbbed in varying levels of discomfort and pain. At least his head had stopped throbbing. Daniela leveled her gaze at him, and he returned a wide grin. She rolled her eyes and dropped it. Instead, she said “Thank you for covering me. You didn’t have to do that.”

Soap’s grin softened. “I know,” he said.

Back at the safe house, lively music played softly in the garage as Los Vaqueros cleaned weapons, loaded vehicles, and fed themselves. Soap felt slightly out of place, like he and the rest of the 141 were walking into someone’s home. Everyone either had something to say or shook hands with Daniela and Rodolfo as they passed, and they both smiled warmly at their friends.

Soap and Ghost made their way to an unoccupied pair of cots in the corner, observing their newfound comrades. Price had disappeared with Alejandro to formulate a plan, ordering the two to sleep. But exhausted as he was, Soap wasn’t sure he’d be able to.

He couldn’t get comfortable. No matter which way he turned, something ached or stung. He tried relaxing his muscles. He tried breathing deeply. He tried counting sheep. 

Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the fire and the blood from the streets of Las Almas. He could hear the screaming and the pleading and the gunfire. He tried covering his eyes, and his ears. Eventually, he rolled to his side, facing Ghost. He was startled to meet the Lieutenant’s eyes. 

“Simon?” Soap asked softly. 

“Johnny,” said Ghost, equally as softly. 

Soap chewed his lip. “Do you ever forget?”

Ghost held his stare, unflinching. “No. You don’t.” Soap hadn’t realized before, but Ghost’s eyes were bloodshot. He looked tired. He’d learned quickly that he slept infrequently, and for short periods of time. It made a lot more sense, now. Ghost rolled over, huffing out a soft breath. “But eventually, you’ll learn to sleep anyway.”

Soap stared at his back, wondering if he would. Wondering if Ghost ever had. He didn’t know how long he stared at his teammate, but it felt like hours later that someone sat gently on the end of his cot. He flew up, grabbing for the bowie knife he kept in his tactical vest. 

Daniela raised her hands, offering a tired smile. “Mind if I take a look at that arm?”

“Sure.” Soap swung his legs off of the cot, resting his hands on the edge. Daniela turned toward him, reaching out and carefully pulling off the dressing she’d applied that early morning. 

“How does it feel? Any sharp pains or itching? Any dizziness, fever?” As soon as she said fever, Soap realized he’d been sweating more than usual. He’d absolutely been feeling dizzy since that harrowing night on the run, but it seemed to have died down throughout the day. And now that he actually paid attention long enough, it was quite itchy.

“No,” he lied. Once again, those ocean eyes seemed to pierce his very soul, challenging him. She knew. But she didn’t say anything, simply reached into the med kit for the same bottle of antibiotics and handed him two. Soap took them gratefully. The team couldn’t afford to be without him, and Ghost would surely order him to stay back if he thought the Sergeant was at all compromised.

Again, she washed the wound with antiseptic, then applied a fresh coat of salve before covering it with a fresh bandage.

“Why are you awake, anyway?” she asked suddenly. Soap’s head snapped up, eyes flying to hers. She looked nearly as exhausted as Ghost, all bloodshot eyes and frazzled hair and sagging shoulders. Still gorgeous.

Soap shrugged uncomfortably. “Couldn’t sleep. What about you?”

She shrugged back, offering a small smile. “Couldn’t sleep either. It makes sense, though. You’ve been through a lot the last few days.” The last few days? When Soap cocked an eyebrow at her, she fidgeted a bit. “I, uh… I was there in the cartel house. When Valeria interrogated you.”

Several things clicked into place for Soap very suddenly. Alejandro had taken him to the elevator once he got into the cartel house, and another guard had escorted him out and down to the basement. Small, with ocean-blue eyes. Then at the oil rig, Alejandro had sent one man with Soap and Graves to the ship. Dani.

“You’re strong for your size,” said Soap in awe. Daniela had shoved him repeatedly through the hallway, even tapping the side of his face with the butt of her gun when he had begun to look over his shoulder.

She smiled wryly. “Sorry about that. We had to make it real, and we couldn’t risk any more comms than we had.”

“No, no, it’s okay. You did good,” said Soap. “Why can’t you sleep?”

Daniela shifted again. “I don’t do so well the night before big missions. I usually bunk next to Alelandro or Rodolfo, but they’re both… occupied. So, I came over here instead. To you.”

Soap’s heart melted. He was so drawn to this woman, and to know that she felt even a fraction of that bond made his heart swell with gratitude. “You can bunk with us,” he said quickly. Then, glancing around, he realized that there didn’t seem to be any available cots. “Take my cot. I can sleep in a chair.”

Daniela’s face had washed with relief when he spoke, but some tension returned as she looked down at her hands. “Don’t be silly,” she mumbled. “I’m not putting you out of your cot after the week you’ve had.”

“Well then, you’ll just have to share it with me,” teased Soap. He held his breath when Daniela’s head snapped up. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to say anything so bold, but he’d taken it and run with it. “There’s plenty of space for both of us.”

“If I sleep on top of you, maybe,” snorted Daniela. Soap wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Daniela giggled.

Soap softened his voice, speaking more seriously. “I really don’t mind sharing.”

She contemplated for a moment, sighed, and then rolled her eyes. “Fine. Just don’t complain if I crush you.”

Now it was Soap’s turn to snort. He lay down carefully, his back to Ghost’s cot, and raised his right arm. Daniela lay down beside him, turning onto her side and tucking herself under his chin. A perfect fit. Soap gently let his arm come down over her waist, laying his hand on the cot rail.

“This okay?” he whispered. She nodded. Soap nodded, too. His heart was pounding. He hadn’t been close to someone like this in… well, a long time.

The 141 was his whole life. There was always work to be done, and without a family to go home to, there was no real reason to take leave. On the rare occasion he did, he just ended up in his home town in Scotland. He’d flirt, constantly, but he seldom brought anyone home. He longed for something deeper, and sex alone could never fill that void. Plus, no one wanted to commit to someone who could be gone for months at a time.

But this? To be close to someone? This was filling the void just fine. Soap had to fight the urge to pull her further back against him as her breathing evened out, her body naturally leaning more on his own. As he dozed, he was proud of himself for staying still. He drifted in and out of sleep, dreaming empty dreams and feeling her shift against him.

As he finally woke up the next morning, he felt his hip aching fiercely. He started to shift to take some pressure off of it, and froze. Slowly opening his eyes, he saw Daniela’s wild hair. He groggily remembered that they’d shared a cot the night before. All of his pride at his self-control dissolved instantly when he realized that his arm was around her waist, holding her tightly to his chest. She must have turned over in her sleep, because her leg was thrown over his hip, pulling their bodies flush together. 

He could already feel a problem, and this was not the time or place. He had to get out of this cot without waking her up. He shifted back, then froze as Daniela’s hand ran up to the back of his head to tangle her fingers in his mohawk. Her eyelids fluttered, her fingers pulled lightly at his hair, and her leg tightened around his hips. Soap’s eyes fluttered shut as he swallowed a groan. Fuck. When he opened his eyes again, she was smiling at him sleepily.

“That’s the best sleep I’ve gotten in months,” she whispered. Soap nodded, desperately trying to get his body under control before she woke up any more. To his dismay, she nuzzled closer to him, nose rubbing under his jaw and hips shifting back and forth for a moment. Her eyes snapped open, eyebrows arching. “Feels like you slept pretty well, too, eh big boy?” Hells bells, this woman. Soap barely suppressed a full body shudder as she beamed at him.

“I didn’t, I’m not, I-” he stuttered. But Daniela placed her fingers over his lips, silencing him. Her eyes were full of mirth.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” she teased. Then she languidly stretched, pressing against him as much as humanly possible before climbing out of the cot and sashaying away, tossing a wicked grin over her shoulder at him. Soap turned to Ghost’s cot, which was blessedly empty, and then pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, still fighting for his body to cooperate. Hells fucking bells.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Alejandro called his men, all sound stopped. The place became a real base in that moment. Los Vaqueros and the 141 gathered around a makeshift operations table, listening intently as Price spoke.

“This is a fight against our own. We are not 141 and Los Vaqueros on this. We’re a team. Ghost team.”

Soap’s eyebrows shot up when the Captain dumped out a bucket of masks, then his eyes snapped up to Ghost. Ghost was staring at him, and Soap was almost certain he was steeling himself. Their silent conversation lasted only a moment before Ghost reached up, pulling off his mask, pausing before reaching for one from the table. Price reached a hand up to his shoulder.

“Good to see you again, Simon,” he said.

Soap carefully schooled his features in an attempt to soothe Ghost’s nerves, but he felt a distinct surge of pride in being one of the few to be allowed to know the Lieutenant. As the older man adjusted the mask over his face, the two shared another weighted look. Soap quirked up one corner of his mouth, shaking his head. Quite the opposite, indeed.

Alejandro laid out the plan to get into the Los Vaqueros facility. “We’ll infiltrate the base with two Ghost teams. Team one is Captain Price, Gaz, me, and one pilot. Team two is Ghost, Soap, Rudy, Dani, and Los Vaqueros.”

Ghost and Soap looked to each other and nodded. Then Soap turned to Daniela, raising an eyebrow. He mouthed “Dani?” 

She smirked, mouthing back “Johnny?”

Soap grinned. He looked to Ghost, who was shaking his head. But his eyes were crinkled with mirth.

“While Gaz and me locate and secure Valeria, Ghost team 2 will find Graves… and kill him.”

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ghost team 2 fought their way through the base to the HQ building, then fought their way through that. Soap and Ghost moved together like they’d fought together for years, and Daniela and Rodolfo effortlessly slotted themselves into their dynamic. Between the three of them, no Shadows made it more than a few steps into the open.

Watching Price’s helo go down had Soap’s stomach sinking. “Steamin’ hell!” Soap shouted. He and Ghost shared a heavy look while Daniela and Rodolfo cursed softly. Rodolfo quickly recovered, clambering up the wall with Soap’s help. Daniela followed after, lightly stepping into Soap’s linked hands before joining Rodolfo in straddling the wall. The two of them pulled Soap up quickly, who turned to Ghost.

“Ghost, you comin’?” he asked.

“No. Price and the pilot need help. You three finish this.”

Soap’s head whipped back and forth between Ghost and the other side of the wall until he saw something that made his stomach drop even more. “Look!” he shouted.

“That’s not ours!” shouted Rodolfo.

“Holy shite. Graves brought a fuckin’ tank!” growled Soap, dropping to the ground. He glanced at Rodolfo and Daniela. “You ready for this?”

“Hell yeah!” answered Rodolfo. Daniela nodded curtly. Soap motioned for the three to split up.

“Looks like the hunters are getting hunted now, huh?” came Graves’ sneering voice. “Ain’t that a kick in the ass?”

“Can’t wait to bake this bastard,” grumbled Soap. He, Daniela, and Rodolfo had run into different buildings. Rodolfo tried to call out C4 stashes, Daniela threw grenades as she could, and Soap gestured for both of them to stay down and inside. Then he ran for his life.

“You and your mexicano friends fucked with the wrong hombre, MacTavish!” yelled Graves.

“Come on out and let’s talk about it,” quipped Soap. Daniela snorted, and despite the severity of the situation, Soap found himself smiling.

Graves seemed altogether less pleased. “You think this is a fucking game out here? You wanna play war? Let’s play some fucking war, chicos! One of you dipshits needs to die last. Who’s it gonna be?”

“Go fuck yourself, Graves.” Soap threw a brick of C4 straight into the tank’s path, silently congratulating himself when it blew.

“You got a healthy disrespect for authority, Soap. I like that about you!”

“You’re Shepherd’s lap dog. You get paid to break the rules.”

“There’s only two rules here, boys. Walk away… or win. Guess which one I choose?” Soap vaulted through a window. It wasn’t high, but the landing still made his hip throb in protest. He grunted softly. “Shoulda gone home when you had the chance, Soap- you and that asshole with the mask, hiding behind that uniform.”

Soap’s temper instantly flared. “You wore that uniform,” he ground out. He was crouched by another C4 stash, trying to judge Graves’ location.

“That uniform was a limitation!” shouted Graves. “I shed that skin!”

“Like a fuckin’ snake,” Soap hissed.

“Like a fuckin’ soldier, son.”

“You had to make your own little army ‘cause you couldn’t hack it in the real one.” This time, Soap managed to stick the side of the tank with C4 as it passed. He ran, detonated, and silently cheered again when he heard the second explosion.

Soap managed to tune out most of the rest of what Graves said, until he turned his attention to Rodolfo. His Spanish wasn’t great, but he picked up the general idea that Graves was saying the 141 were no friends to Los Vaqueros.

“Oye, pendejo!” Daniela’s voice suddenly cut through the radio. Most of what she said was lost to Soap, but she sounded furious. He picked out the words “friends”, “assholes like you”, “good people”, and “brothers”, and “death”. Hermanos hasta la muerte.

Graves must have understood more than Soap, because his driving became erratic and he shouted back to Daniela in what Soap did recognize as poorly pronounced Spanish. 

Her distraction gave him enough time to sneak up behind the tank and lay one last brick of C4 between the tank’s body and tread. But just as he started to back off, the gun began to swing in his direction. Soap braced himself to run, and then froze. 

“Graves!” Daniela shouted. She had leapt up to stand in the window of the building directly ahead of Soap. As the tank's gun swung back in her direction, Soap scrambled to his feet, racing forward. 

“Pinche tu madre,” she sneered. 

Soap could hear the tank’s gun spinning up.

“No!” He shouted. Daniela’s head snapped in his direction. Her face fell when they locked stares, eyes flashing with anxiety. She took half a step toward him, but Soap launched himself through the window. In one smooth motion, he wrapped his arm around Daniela’s waist, yanked her against himself, and pulled them to the ground. He landed hard on his shoulder as he heard the tank fire and rolled her under him as fast as he could, tucking his head against hers and shielding them both with his arms. The building crumbled under the impact, sheetrock and dust raining down on them. Several chunks of sheetrock landed across Soap’s back. That’ll be a few new bruises.

As it began to settle, Soap raised his head just enough to look down at Daniela. They were nose to nose when she opened her eyes, hands coming up to run over his covered head. 

“Y’alright?” Soap whispered. She nodded frantically. 

“You?” He nodded. As he shifted his shoulders, bits of rubble fell off and cracked against the ground. He winced. 

He looked up and around. Graves’ tank was rotating, looking for them. He glanced to the stairs, then looked back down at Daniela. 

“Hold onto me,” he whispered. Daniela cocked an eyebrow, but wrapped her arms around his neck. Soap grabbed one of her legs behind the knee, wrapping it around his waist, and she smirked before wrapping her other leg around his back as well. As serious as the situation was, their position wasn’t lost on Soap. Twice in one day? He swallowed hard. C’mon, MacTavish.

As quickly as he dared, he crawled for the stairwell. He could see Graves’ tank through the doorway on the opposite wall, facing away. In the last meter, he leapt to his feet and ran up several steps, stopping midway to lean against the wall. Daniela slid down his body, resting her hands on his chest. Soap shivered. They were both panting slightly. Her eyes shone as she looked up at him. 

“Gracías, guapo,” she said softly. Then her hand snapped up to her earpiece. She started down for a moment, then looked back up at Soap. “Rodolfo moved to Los Vaqueros private channel. He says there should be an RPG downstairs,” she said. 

Soap nodded, clicking through channels until he could hear Rudy’s voice. “I’ll get it,” he said.

Daniela grabbed his arm as he moved, stopping him in his tracks. “Be careful,” she said. He nodded, clasping her arm. 

“I will.”

He crept down the stairs, peeking around the wall to where he’d last seen Graves’ tank. It wasn’t there. Staying low, he rounded the corner, eyes searching frantically for the RPG.

“Check under the counter, hermano,” whispered Rodolfo. When Soap glanced up, he could barely see the other man peeking around a doorframe across the yard. He crept to the bar counter, slid open the door as quietly as possible, and grabbed the RPG inside.

“Siiick,” said Soap, raising the RPG to his shoulder. With his back to the wall, he slowly made his way to an opening, searching for Graves. Not seeing him, he stayed. And breathed. And waited.

He could hear the thing driving around outside, searching for him or the others. He just hoped they were well hidden.

His radio crackled. “He’s heading your way, Soap,” said Daniela quietly.

“Rog’,” he replied. “Stay down.”

Carefully, he crouched and turned, ready to fire as soon as the tank came into view. He didn’t have to wait long. With a deep breath, he stood, pulled the trigger, and dove behind the cabinet again. The explosion from the tank seemed to rock the very ground. He realized that he’d never detonated the last brick of C4. Double trouble, then.

Slowly, Soap stood and leaned around the corner. Graves’ tank was a ball of fire, smoke and flames billowing into the sky. He heard Daniela step down the stairs, then felt her small hand on his shoulder blade. Rudy peeked around the corner of a doorway, looking around before stepping outside. Soap and Daniela did the same, cautiously walking forward.

“You did it, Soap,” said Rodolfo softly.

“You two and me, hermano,” said Soap.

“Brought a gun to a tank fight.”

Soap chuckled, smiling under his mask. “Yeah we did!” He reached for his radio, clicking back to the main channel. “Soap to Ghost- I’m with Rudy. Graves is KIA. How’s Price?”“Angry. Lost a good cigar in the crash. Pilot’s okay, too. Out.”

Rodolfo relayed the message to Alejandro. They all took a moment to breathe. And then they moved out to meet Ghost Team 1.

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Soap’s head was spinning. They had all known Valeria was a wildcard, but he didn’t think any of them had expected her to drop the bomb of information that a missile was in Chicago. Not even Alejandro. Price handed her off to Los Vaqueros almost immediately, the threat in his voice clear. Soap wasn’t surprised, and he didn’t expect to ever see her alive again.

He was surprised when he had to lift Daniela up and out of the container after she lunged for Valeria. He dragged her out kicking and screaming in Spanish, all curses and threats. Rudy followed them out first, trying to calm her down, but there was nothing for it. The other woman was single-handedly responsible for the deaths of all of her family and friends. Soap couldn’t fault her rage.

Gaz came out next, raising his eyebrows at Soap in a silent question. Soap nodded, affirming that he was alright. Daniela had stopped thrashing, but her chest still rose and fell quickly against his arms. He’d had to lean back against the wall, lifting her feet off the ground to keep her from beelining to the container. Now she stood, back against his chest, hands gripping his tactical harness where it crossed his thighs.

“I won’t pretend to know what you’re feeling,” Gaz began softly. He paced slowly back and forth in front of them. “But I do know that she’s not worth throwing your life away.”

“She stole my life!” hissed Daniela. “She took my family. She took everything from me! And now she’s doing it all again! More people will lose their lives, lose their families, if she isn’t stopped!”

“But she gave you a purpose,” said Gaz firmly. He’d stopped pacing, staring directly at Daniela now. “You’ll never let that happen to anyone ever again. We are going to stop her. And I know it’s not the same thing, but she gave you a family, too. Hell, she gave you two families. You, Alejandro, Rodolfo? Los Vaqueros? You’ll always have a family with the 141, now.”

Soap squeezed her just a bit tighter at that, his own silent affirmation. After a moment, Daniela’s hands released his harness and lay flat against his legs. She seemed to sag back against him. Her voice shook slightly when she spoke.

“Gracias, hermano.”

Gaz simply nodded before returning to the container. For several minutes, Soap and Daniela said nothing. Then, very softly, she said “You can let me go.”

“Aye? You won’t kick me in the shins and run off to kill her anyway?”

Daniela snorted at that. “No.” With one final squeeze, Soap let her go. As he did, Alejandro came storming out of the container, followed closely by Rodolfo. He moved straight for Daniela, gripping her shoulders.

“We’re going to be hunted men, Dani,” he said. “I’m not letting her get away with this. Rodolfo and I will handle her, and we’ll handle the cartel. But you…” He looked up at Soap, then back at Daniela. He pointed to Soap with one finger. “You need to go with them. I don’t want you to be a part of this.”

“Alejandro, no, soy-”

“No,” he growled. He tilted his head back to look at the ceiling, and Soap realized when he looked at Daniela again that he was tearing up. He lowered his head to her level, staring at her intently. “What did I tell you the night we found you?”

Rodolfo had turned his head away, shoulders stiff. Soap couldn’t see her face, but he could hear in her voice that Daniela was tearing up, too. “You told me you would always protect me,” she whimpered.

Alejandro shook her gently. “This is me protecting you, hermana.” He pointed to Soap. “That man will protect you with his life. You told me so yourself. Rodolfo told me.” He glanced back to Soap, who nodded, stunned. “And I can see it when I look at him, and the way he looks at you. You have to go with them. You have to get that missile, and you have to stay out of Mexico until this dies down. And then you know we’ll welcome you back with open arms.”

Rodolfo turned, reaching out a hand to hold Daniela’s. “This has always been our fight, mijá,” he whispered. “It doesn’t have to be yours. And I know you chose it, but this time… just let us do this for you. Sabes que te amamos.”

Price and Gaz had come out of the container again, Price holding Valeria. They both nodded to Soap, who nodded to Daniela when she looked over to him. Her gaze dropped, and then she looked back to her men.

“Yo sé que tú,” she whispered.

Alejandro moved to Soap while Rodolfo hugged Daniela.

“Go. You have work to do,” he said. Then he pulled Soap closer, and softly said “Take care of her.”“You know I will,” whispered Soap. He backed toward their plane. “Keep fighting the good fight, hermano!” he called.��To the bitter end, my brother!” said Alejandro.

“Good luck, amigos,” said Rodolfo.

Price shoved Valeria into the backseat of Alejandro and Rodolfo’s vehicle while Soap, Ghost, and Daniela moved to board the aircraft Gaz had already started up.

“Ghost!” called Alejandro. Ghost turned back, cocking his head slightly. “No te pierdas, hermano!”

Whatever Ghost said back, Soap didn’t understand. But Daniela smiled, blowing a kiss with two fingers that Alejandro caught out of midair and held to his heart. Then they turned, boarded the plane, and were away.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Soap had long since abandoned his fear of heights. Walking down a 60-story building didn’t make him nervous, but the hostage situation did. Ghost’s calm helped him keep his cool, though, and soon enough, Daniela was getting hostages out of the building while Soap and Price moved on Hassan. They cleared entire floors of the building in record times.

“And that’s why they call him Soap,” mumbled Ghost. Daniela’s answering giggle warmed Soap’s heart. Upon hearing this, Ghost added “Did you know he’s the youngest one of us? Got in with the SAS at sixteen.”

“Sixteen? Soap, you get more and more impressive the more I learn about you!”

Soap’s face flamed.

Despite the hostages, the mission was going smoothly. Too smoothly. Then, Laswell announced that Hassan had the controls. Ghost confirmed visual on floor 46, and back out they went.

“Soap, we find those controls, it’s up to you to disarm that missile.”

“Copy that… done it once before.”

The RPG could have ruined the whole plan, but Soap and Price were both lucky that it missed them. They moved into the building as quickly as possible, clearing yet another room in record time with Ghost’s sniper support.

When Gaz called that they had the target cornered, Soap and Price raced in his direction. Then came Laswell saying that the missile was launching. Everyone was speaking at once.

“No, no, no!” screamed Price. 

“Fecking hell,” growled Soap.

“Watcher, where’s the target?” yelled Price.

“Unknown, we’re working on it.”

“Copy. We’re going for Hassan. This way Sergeant!” he yelled to Soap. Then, “Gaz, where’s Hassan?”

Price and Soap were rounding the corner when Gaz answered. “End of the hall! Hassan’s holed up behind those doors.”

Price’s response was furious. “Let’s clear this out and bag him, then.”

When they got the snake cam under the door, the whole thing went to shit. 

The door blew. Soap and Price flew back and Gaz collapsed like a bag of rocks. Soap’s ears were ringing, he was bleeding, and he could hardly breathe. Only Gaz’s quick recovery saved his life. He was dragged into cover before Price took a bullet and Gaz went back for him, too.

Everything after was a blur. One moment, Soap was leaping down a falling elevator shaft. The next, he was running from the man he stole the laptop from. Then hiding. Then detonating the missile with Laswell’s help. Then, running for his life, again. 

“Nicely done, Johnny. Now for the hard part,” said Ghost.

“That was the fuckin’ hard part, LT.”

“Let’s find out. You need to stay alive, take out the guards, and kill Hassan.”

Soap looked around frantically. “I just need a weapon,” he said.

“Make one,” Ghost replied. He sounded so nonchalant. It made Soap huff out a laugh.

“Aye. Like old times, huh LT?”

Ghost’s voice was fond when he said “Seems like yesterday.”

Soap replied with equal fondness. “It was yesterday.”

He hid. He ran. With Ghost’s help, he fashioned some makeshift weapons. Then he ran headlong into Hassan. Before he could react, his world went dark.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Soap came to, he was being dragged by his foot. At first, he wasn’t sure where he was. Then he recognized the office he’d been chasing Hassan through.

Hassan. It was Hassan dragging him along.

Sluggishly, his mind went through his team. Ghost. Overwatch. Price. Holed up trying to recover. Gaz. Unknown. Daniela.

Daniela.

Alejandro had sent her with him and he didn’t even know where she was, whether she was safe. His heart twinged painfully. He didn’t have time to think, though. Hassan was yelling about fire and thinking they could stop him. Soap couldn’t focus on it.

Ghost.

“Ghost,” he whispered into his throat mic.

“Soap!”

“Watch… the window,” he managed.

Something exploded.

Hassan dragged him to his feet. Still going on about invading, not attacking.

He thrust Soap in front of him, pushing him toward the window. Soap desperately tried to keep his footing.

“Soap,” said Ghost. Soap vaguely recognized panic in his voice. “Soap, I see him, but I can’t-”

“Take the shot, LT,” mumbled Soap.

“What was that? What are you saying?” Hassan had him by his vest now, shaking him violently. 

“Soap, I can’t get a clear-”

“Take. The shot.” Soap’s jaw was clenched. It took all of his power to hold onto Hassan’s wrists enough not to fall back. Hassan was still pushing forward, shouting, and Soap was fighting a losing battle. Hassan was going to push him out of the window.

And he couldn’t stop it.

“I’m sorry,” said Ghost.

Then, just as Soap’s heels touched the ledge, searing pain shot through his chest. He lurched forward with the impact, falling into Hassan.

Hassan’s eyes were wide. Soap thought he saw blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His rattled brain couldn’t make sense of it as they both fell to the ground.

“Johnny, MOVE!” roared Ghost. With the last of his energy, Soap shoved as hard as he could, rolling off of Hassan’s body. Another piercing shot rang out and Hassan’s head cracked backward against the ground. 

Soap blinked at Hassan’s body. Ghost was shouting for him through his earpiece. Suddenly, the pieces clicked into place.

“You shot me,” he said dumbly to Ghost.

“Oh thank God,” muttered Ghost. He could hear Daniela shrieking in the background, too.

“You saved me,” he said. The whole room seemed colorful and soft. Spinning. Like a carousel.

Soap smiled, head lolling down.

He could vaguely hear Ghost and Daniela and Gaz yelling, but he was too tired to listen. Just a wee nap. That’s all I need.

Footsteps pounded nearby. With great effort, Soap turned his head. It didn’t hold where he wanted it to, just flopped onto the ground on the other side. He watched a small black pair of boots race across the floor toward him.

“No no no no, hijo de puta. Por favor, Dios, no.” Suddenly, Soap’s head and shoulders were being lifted. Then he was dragged back against something soft. He looked up. Daniela was running her hands over his head, his chest, clawing at his tactical vest. “Por favor, Dios, no,” she repeated. Her voice shook as badly as her hands and tears streamed down her face.

“Hey,” Soap said. He grinned up at her. “Whassa matter? Why’re you crying?”

He reached a hand up to her, wiping her cheek with his thumb. He couldn’t keep it raised and it flopped back to his side.

“John Soap MacTavish, you’d better not die on me,” she muttered. She had gotten his vest loose and was pulling his shirt up roughly. 

“Hey, bonnie, at least buy me dinner first,” he slurred. He chuckled. It was silly. It was all so silly. He could hear Ghost yelling faintly, but he wasn’t sure why. Daniela was leaning heavily on his chest, and he wasn’t sure about that either.

Suddenly, he felt as though he’d been sat out in snow for a good few hours. “Hey, are you cold?” he asked Daniela.

“Hey,” Daniela said sharply. She gripped his chin between her fingers. “Look at me.”

Clarity hit Soap like a ton of bricks. He’d been shot. He was bleeding. Cold from shock. That’s why Daniela was crying and Ghost was yelling. He’d been knocked out. Likely had a concussion. He looked up at her solemnly, grabbing her wrist with his hand. Don’t die on me, she’d said. He was dying.

They’d talked quite a bit over their few days together. Talked about their hopes and dreams, and how those fit into their dangerous lives. Talked about their dedication to their teams, their values, their futures. Talked about growing up, their families, how they’d gotten there. 

She’d asked him if he’d ever been in love.

He’d said he hadn’t. But he wasn’t so sure that was true, any more.

When he’d asked her, she’d said “maybe” with a sly smile his direction, all twinkling eyes and rosy cheeks.

He blinked, hard. He wanted to know what that meant.

“What did you mean… when you said maybe?” he panted out.

For a moment, Daniela just blinked at him. Then her eyes softened, tears slipping down her cheeks as she understood his question. “I meant I might be,” she whispered. “I’m not quite sure yet. You’ll have to give me some time to figure it out.”

Soap hummed, eyes drifting shut. “I’m pretty sure,” he breathed. Daniela gasped, but he reached up to touch her cheek before she could say anything. “You,” he began, voice a whisper. “You are the most… the most beautiful, intelligent, amazing woman that… that I’ve ever-”

Daniela didn’t let him finish. Her lips were on his before he knew it. He was kissing her before even registering that she’d leaned down. Her lips were soft, just like he’d imagined. She tasted like strawberries and mint and salt. Tears. She kissed him desperately, and he kissed her desperately back. His hand slid back to tangle in her curls. So unbelievably soft.  He could hardly move his head, but she tilted her own to deepen the kiss. She ran her tongue along the seam of his lips and he moaned, low in his chest. He weakly tried to pull her closer. No point hiding it now. Besides, if he was going to die, what better way to go? More footsteps pounded in the door. He could vaguely make out Gaz and Price’s voices.

And then, above them all, nearly a full octave up in his panic, Ghost. “Johnny!”

Daniela’s teeth lightly grazed his lip. Soap sighed, then everything went black.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Soap woke to a gentle beeping. His head and mouth felt like they were stuffed with cotton. His body felt like one big bruise, but with shards of glass sprinkled throughout it. He couldn’t open his eyes. There was light pressure against his right hip.

He breathed deeply. Ouch.

Slowly, his eyes cracked open. The room was dark, but moonlight streamed in through a window out of the corner of his eye. He could see that the ceiling was bright white.

“Johnny?”

Slowly, he turned his head toward the familiar voice. As he did, Ghost rose to his feet from his chair, taking two quick steps to the bedside.

Soap opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Ghost scrambled to pour a cup of water, then gently helped Soap lift his head to drink. As he did, Soap realized what the pressure on his hip was. Daniela.

Her head lay at the junction of his torso and legs, black curls shining in the moonlight. The bags under her eyes were nearly as dark as Ghost’s grease paint. Her right hand gripped his thigh, and her left hand held his. She didn’t stir.

Soap swallowed several times. “What happened?” he finally asked.

Ghost’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Do you want the short or long story?” he asked. His voice sounded exhausted.

“How about the short one, for now?”

“I shot you,” said Ghost. For a moment, Soap thought he wouldn’t elaborate. Then, Ghost looked up to meet his eyes. “I shot you, Johnny. Because you told me to. Because you’re the best of us, and you’re clever.”

Soap nodded, eyes drifting shut, not processing Ghost’s words.

“You’re lucky I’m such a good shot,” Ghost added, grumbling.

Soap chuckled softly, wincing as he did. “That I am,” he said. “Hassan?”

“I shot him, too. Twice, actually.”

“Through me the first time, eh LT?”

Ghost looked unamused. But when Soap grinned at him, his eyes softened. “That’s right, Johnny.”

“Perfect shot, LT.”“You called it, Sargeant.”

“The best of us, huh LT?”

“Can it, Sergeant.”

For a moment, the two shared a companionable silence. Then, Ghost spoke so softly that Soap thought he may have imagined it. “I almost didn’t take it.”

“The shot? Why not?”

“There was no shot. He had you directly in front of him, and he would have thrown you out that window before I had time to move.”

“You still got him, LT. I’ll call that a win.”“We got him, Johnny.”

“I’m starting to think you really have taken a shine to me, Simon.”

Ghost hung his head before looking back up. “Maybe I have.” He turned, picking up his chair, and sat it right by the bed as quietly as he could. “That one has, for sure.” He nodded to Daniela.

Soap looked down at her. “How long have you both been here?”

“Since you got here,” Ghost mumbled. Soap’s head snapped back to him.

“And when was that?”

Ghost shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Four days, give or take.” Soap stared at him. Finally, he threw up his hands. “You, Sergeant, should have died.”

He lifted one gloved hand, ticking off fingers as he spoke. “You have a field-treated gunshot wound to your right arm, which was in fact infected. Thank your lucky stars that Daniela saw through your idiocy.” That explained a lot of little things he’d missed. Like a passenger in a getaway vehicle. “A bruised bone in your hip. Three cracked ribs. A grade four concussion. Multiple hairline fractures in your legs. And a shredded left pec from a 50 caliber bullet. Might I add that last one only missed your heart by centimeters?”

Soap snorted. “Well, that explains a lot about how I feel. Hell, how I’ve been feeling.”

Ghost just shook his head. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Thought we lost ya. Again.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy, LT.”

“Good,” grumbled Ghost. He looked toward Daniela. “I had to pry her off of you,” he said softly. 

Soap looked down at her again. She looked younger than before, peaceful in her slumber. But he could see the exhaustion plainly on her face. “Yeah?” he asked. 

“Mhmm,” murmured Ghost. “Could hardly get her across the hall to shower.”

Soap let his eyes drift shut, exhaustion washing over him all over again. “Where are we, anyway?”

“Amsterdam. Laswell has friends here. We’re in a private hospital.”

“Price? And Gaz?”

“They’re trying to find a lead on Shepherd.”

Soap nodded sleepily, relieved that their squad was still intact. “She kissed me,” he murmured. 

“Doctors say she saved your life with that.”

Soap hummed, cracking one eye open to peer at Ghost. He shrugged. 

“Something about the adrenaline helping to push off the shock.”

Soap hummed again, letting his eyes slide shut.

“Sleep, Johnny.”

He did. 

When he woke again, sunlight was streaming through the window. He shifted slightly, and felt Daniela spring up when he did. 

When he opened his eyes, she was staring at him anxiously. 

“Good morning, beautiful,” Soap murmured. 

Tears sprang instantly to her eyes. She squeezed his thigh, standing and reaching her hand up to cup his face.

“Oh, Johnny,” she whispered.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” he said. He reached up a hand to hold hers against his cheek. “I’m right here.”

She shifted a leg up onto the bed, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his.

“I thought I’d lost you.”

“I’m right here,” he whispered again. “Ghost said you saved my life.”

She made a strangled sound, half laugh and half sob. “I couldn’t let you go like that.”

Soap shifted his hand to her face, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Well,” he said. “If you remember, I was a bit out of my mind.” He tilted her chin up gently, whispering “Care to give me another taste of those lifesaving powers of yours?”

Daniela lunged forward, sealing her lips to his. Soap eyes slid shut as he grinned, pulling her closer. Her mouth opened against his, and he ran his tongue against hers. When she whimpered into his mouth, the primal need to have her close overcame him. He leaned up as far as he could, cursing the sling on his left shoulder, chasing her mouth. His hand moved to the back of her neck, holding her against him. She straddled him carefully, elbows coming to rest above his shoulders. 

Her whole body shuddered when his hand came to rest on her hip.

His eyes snapped open. “I’m sorry-”

“No,” she cut him off, panting. She reached one hand up, threading her fingers through his mohawk. “There’s no reason.” Soap groaned when her nails lightly scratched his scalp.

“Woman, the things I would do to you if I wasn’t stuck in this bed…”

She shuddered again before she leaned down and kissed the place that his jaw and neck met. His whole body involuntarily arched off the bed, hand moving from her hip to the small of her back to pull her against him. She gasped at the contact. However light she was, her weight on his hip hurt. But he was too far gone to care. He leaned up again, gently sucking her lip between his as she sighed into his mouth.

His mind was clouded with the desire for intimacy with her. He wanted all of her. First in their single shared night, and now in their kiss, Soap saw waking up to her every morning, cooking together, trips to the stormy Scottish coast and the sunny Caribbean. He’d been drawn to her from the moment he saw her, and he knew from the way she looked at him that she’d been drawn to him just as much. He’d tried so hard to remain professional. To keep distance. To be a gentleman. To pretend he hadn’t fallen in love with her the moment he heard her speak.

Then she’d slept in his cot and he’d had to know what it was like to have her in his arms. Having tasted her once, there was no going back to professional and distant. Having tasted her twice? She owned him. There was no pretending, now.

His train of thought was interrupted by a sharp cough from the doorway. Daniela sprang up, scrambling off the bed with one hand covering her mouth. Soap’s head whipped toward the door. Ghost was there, finding something very interesting to look at in the ceiling, along with a pretty nurse who was smiling widely.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better, Sergeant,” she quipped. Soap grinned wryly first at her, then at Daniela. “My name’s Cat, I’m a friend of Kate’s. Mind if I take a look at you?”

Soap nodded, Daniela sat herself in the corner, and Ghost continued to pay close attention to the ceiling and walls. Soap narrowed his eyes, watching the Lieutenant closely. 

Cat turned to Daniela and Ghost. “Would you two-”

“They can stay,” Soap cut her off. Cat turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. He smiled. “Nothing they haven’t seen already.” When she helped him sit up and lift his gown off, Soap got his first real look at the damage. At Los Vaqueros safe house, and then later at their base, he’d been too rushed and too tired to really look at himself.

Purple bruises so dark they nearly looked black covered his ribs. Just above his boxers, he could see more bruising on his hip that was nearly green now. Scrapes and cuts covered his knees, his arms, his sides. The bullet wound in his right arm was healing nicely, but the skin around it was still pink and tender. He was grateful that his chest was wrapped tightly so he couldn’t see the damage from Ghost’s sniper.

Soap looked away.

“So Cat,” he asked. “How did you meet Laswell?”

“Oh, she and I met probably fifteen years ago. She was still on the field, back then. I was still in training, working in a field hospital. I patched her and John up after a rough mission. I guess she decided she liked me, because as soon as I graduated, she snapped me right up.” She turned to Ghost, who had finally looked her way, and smiled. “Good thing, too. I’ve fixed this one up more times than I can count, and Kate tells me he won’t let anyone else touch him.”

Ghost looked away again so quickly that he missed Soap’s gleeful expression. “Oh, is that so?” teased Soap. Ghost shot him a warning glare. Something to ask about later.

“I trust her,” muttered Ghost.

Cat beamed at him. She looked back to Soap, smiling conspiratorially. “Quite the compliment, eh?”

“That it is,” he answered smugly. Ghost held his stare, unamused. Soap looked back toward Daniela, eyes softening. She smiled back at him, looking tired but content. Cat was wrapping up her check, talking about physical therapy and taking it easy. Soap couldn’t wait to have a moment with Daniela again.

“Alright, well I’ll be back tonight to check in with you again. Simon, would you walk me out?” Soap’s eyes shot back to Ghost at that, but Ghost refused to meet his gaze. Definitely something to ask about later.

When Cat and Ghost had gone, Daniela came back to Soap’s side, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. She gently took his left hand, careful not to lift it or otherwise disturb the bandages.

“Take all the time you need,” Soap said softly. Daniela lifted her eyes from their joined hands, cocking her head. He held her gaze. “You said I’d have to give you some time to figure it out. Take all the time you need.” Now it was Soap’s turn to look down at their hands. He grinned, lopsided. “I’ll be here.”

Daniela reached out, lifting his chin with her fingertips. Her dark eyes watered slightly around the edges. “I’m pretty sure,” she whispered.

“Oh, now that sounds familiar,” chuckled Soap. He leaned toward her, eyes flitting down to her lips. “C’mere, you.”

Their first kiss had been desperate. Their second quickly turned heated. This one was soft, slow, gentle. Exploratory and sweet. Soap stroked her cheek, looking up at her from under hooded eyes. “Tell me you feel it, too,” he whispered.

Daniela nodded, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his. “I feel it.”

“Yeah? Not just ‘maybe’?”

Daniela smiled wide, smacking his shoulder lightly. Soap laughed, loud and full, and immediately regretted it. Wincing, he smiled back at her. 

He was anxious to hear from Price and Gaz, and nervous about what would happen when Alejandro and Rodolfo called Daniela back. They’d have to go after Shepherd, and she might have to go back to Mexico. Maybe nothing would ever truly have a chance to start with them. Maybe they’d die. But maybe not. Maybe everything would be alright.

[resident-idiot-simp]

Haya everyone Resi here

Disclaimer for my account

You can find me here on TikTok, Instagram, Twitter , and Ao3.

My pronouns are She/Her (above 18) and I am somehow not any form of fruity ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ (well I might be a bit Aro/Ace but I don't really care)

I apologize beforehand because I cannot type dysgraphia is a bitch (I also use voice to type I am not sorry) and I'm also your local Southerner and Christian (tasteful kind) here in the U.S. of A.

I am riddled with the ADHD and I am here to commit arson and have fun.

I love answering asks and questions (especially about my fics) so please shoot me any you have 🩷🩷🩷

Tags on my blog:

#Resi Responds #Resi's breakdowns

#Resi's shorts #Resi's Life

#wendi!verse #Deer!Ghost

#walks up to mic #09 angst

#Deadclaw's Adoption Agency

#Pokémon au

Most current hyper fixation:

🧼Mw💀 & ❤️Dp&W💛

My fics :

DP&W

(how I picture the characters, constants in stuff I write, feral mutants explanation)

Deadclaw’s Adoption Agency- Wade and Logan end up adopting an army of misfits and create a home for those without one.

Meeting the Uncle- What happens when Laura runs into Sabretooth in the void?

What Comes Around Goes Around- The X-Men don't know how to feel about this new logan and have some horrible realizations about their own

Bloodline Spite- Laura doesn't like the X-men because of how they treated Logan

The Spider and The Mini Wolverine- Peter befriends Laura and the Avengers are in for a shock

Past Ghosts- Steve meets a man he thought long dead

What is the Deal With Thoes Two?- Students POV on Deadpool and Wolverine

Aftermath and Consequences- The Consequences of the Odyssey Monologue

When We Were Younger- What if Logan and Wade were both students at Xavier's at the same time

An Old Friend With New Stories- Steve and Bucky run across Logan

Running Across The Mini Wolverine- Three quick one-shots of people running across Laura Kinney and what I think would happen.

First Christmas With The New People- Dermot meets Laura first (Christmas fic)

Logan and Mew- Logan and Mew meet, become best friends, and chaos reigns.

COD

(Not a fic but the Captain MacTavish essay also characterization)

The Family Reunion- What if Soap's cousin saw him again after years of no contact?

An Outsiders Thoughts- What do others see when observing Soap and Ghost

The Uncle- What if Joseph didn't die and Ghost gets to be an uncle

Comfort- Soap gets overstimulated and Ghost helps comfort him

The Loaned Sergeant- Since Soap is so used to Ghost as his LT how would he work with another Lieutenant?

The Old Team- What happens when Soap meets his old team?

Soap and MacTavish- What if Soap meets Captain MacTavish?

Time Kept Ticking- Soap's Family thinks he's dead, but he comes knocking on their door how will they react?

Your a CAPTAIN?!- What if the original 141 were canon in the same universe as their reboot counterparts and Soap with Ghost were using the task force as a cover for their own team?

Don't Dish Out What You Can't Take- Soap and Ghost have a badass kid

Hunger- Ghost is a wendigo because it fits so well!!

The BAU Meet SoapGhost- The BAU deal with John 'Soap' MacTavish and Simon 'Ghost' Riley

The Prince & his Knight- Soap is a prince Ghost is a knight what will happen when Soap I told to court someone?

I haven't Talked to You Since last Year- Simon keeps making jokes and Soap is NOT having it

The Mistake- What if after Roba Tommy kicks Simon out?

Favored by the Crows- Ghost gains an army of crows

Task Force Try Playing Games With Civilians- The 141 play laser tag and paintball with some civilians

What People Around and On Base See- MORE POVS ON YOUR FAVORITE IDIOTS

Alone Time Interrupted by Your Team- Captain MacTavish is rudely interrupted by his team during his not so alone alone time

Cowboy Dan- Cowboy Dan is so Ghost-coded I needed to write a fic so decided to make it sad and about Soap becoming Ghost after Ghost died.

A Little Help- Ghost helps preen Soap's wings

A Little Pick-Me-Up With Company- Soap offers fresh blood to Ghost so they can escape a sticky situation while Price is an unwitting watcher

Jailbirds- Soap and Ghost get arrested on a mission gone wrong

A Preventable Fate- 09 Angst regarding Price not being a good person

What is With Those Two?- Model Ghost and Football player Soap are following each other on social media and the fans just realized

Feeding Your God- 09 Ghost as a lore accurate wendigo (Azilver wrote a story based off of this go read it! Also it has fanart that also works for my fic)

Accidental Mate Acquisition- Seal Mer Soap sees Ghost as his mate what will they do?

The Captain Blowing Off Steam- The Captain has his way with Riley who is just happy to be there

Mama Bear- Mama bear Beth

What do you need?- The Captain has visitors while having his way with Riley

Matching Smiles- Soap has a Glasgow smile

How Did This Snowball so Bad?! - Soap and Ghost experience their first heat/rut together

Relief- Soap with swollen balls needing relief and Ghost offering to help.

Wisper From the Woods - Wendigo Roach activities including but not limited to eating Graves

Mending of Broken Souls - Past meet their future selves (part of this event I hosted)

Love Bites- Vampire Riley getting less traumatized with some TLC from his Captain

Team Bonding- Team bonding over how the 141 imagine Captain MacTavish is like in bed and how badly everyone wants him.

MacTavish and Riley Take on the Apocalypse- Wendi!Verse meets TWD and interacts with the termites (also another small snippet for nine lives)

Feed Your Local Vampire they get Hangry- Vampire MacTavish and willing blood bag Riley

FNAF

Empire of dirt- Ever wanted to know what others in Hurricane thought of the Aftons well wonder no longer!

The Ghost & The Bear- Freddy's POV on a ghost Michael

Final Encore- What would happen if Michael met the crew in Security Breach

[itsohh]

Always Room For One More

A/N: Female reader, this fic is dedicated to @xintothewoodswegox​  who I can’t thank enough for you constant support. ✌ Still a huge thank you to everyone else! I do see you and appreciate you. (If your thinking, is that me? Yes is it)

Summary: Ghost returns to his room after a mission to find it already occupied by his lovers who encourage him to join them.

Word count: 3658

Warnings: Smut

AO3 Masterlist

Sometimes, missions went to plan. Sometimes they went better than the plan. Job done, good job and back to base. Ghost was used to it. When he arrived back at his room, however, he knew something was a little off. He always knew when someone had invaded his privacy and gone into his room. Of course, he wasn’t dumb enough to leave anything out for someone to waltz in and find. As his hand held on to the door knob he quietly listened- then heard it. Small muffled sounds through the doors. The walls and doors of the base were rather thick. Sound didn’t travel very well through them by design. Like the ghost he was, he silently opened the door to the dark room.

A hiss came from your lips as you groaned out. “Stop fucking moving prick, or are you going to give in so easily?” Ignorant of Ghost's arrival, you seemed completely absorbed in your little world with Soap.

“As if, besides I’m not the one that's bloody fucking cheating.”

“Oh and how am I cheating right now?” Adjusted to the dark, Ghost could make out the pair of you in his bed. Both in each other's arms he could make out the bare shoulders while your chests pressed together.

“Oh ho ho, don’t act like you're not purposely clenching down around me.”

“Says the one whos literally throbbing right now.”

“I can’t control that!” Ghost removed his jacket and sat down at his deck chair to remove his boots. Not that either of you noticed.

“And I can control my cunt?”

“You can, you told me one time.”

“Well yeah but sometimes it has a mind of its own-”

“-What are you two bickering about.” Ghost finally interrupted, both shoes on the ground and a fresh shirt on. You practically jumped at Ghost's voice.

“Jesus Christ- ngh.”

“Ugh.” Both you and Soap groaned a little at the movement before the pair of you gave each other accusatory looks.

“You said Simon wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.” You whispered to Soap and stuck your finger against his chest.

“That was the expected time, don’t look at me I don’t suddenly know why he's back early.”

“Job was done faster than expected. Why are you cock warming Johnny in my bed?” Ghost started to remove his pants and you kept eye contact with John.

“Well you see-”

“He-” The pair of you started to both speak at the same time and paused.

“Let me correct myself, why my bed?”

“Oh!” The pair of you nodded in unison and looked at each other before you turned back to face Ghost.

“We always sleep in your bed when you're away.” You spoke like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I mean we always sleep in your bed when your here eh.” Soap shrugged.

“Don’t you have your own beds?” Ghost sighed.

“Yours is bigger.” You gave Ghost a matter-of-fact look. Soap snickered next to you and you made sure to lightly slap his chest in response.

“Aw come on don’t be like that you set yourself up.” Soap protested and you turned to face him with a roll of your eyes. Ghost finally climbed onto the bed next to Soap. The bed dipped under the added weight and forced Soap to move slightly backwards towards Ghost. A movement that also happened to you, sliding further onto his dick.

“Oh fuck-”

“-John-ny” You punctured out his name as Soap groaned, pleasure stimulating the pair of you.

“Are the two of you going to do this all night?” Ghost asked while Soap lifted up the duvet slightly so Ghost could slide into the bed with ease.

“Dunno, Soap what's the schedule?” You managed to joke out, still trying to slightly recover from that small bit of pleasure in your wound-up state.

“Oh let me just get out the fucken diary then. Ah, bugga,r looks like we have booked this all the way to one then we have a shower booked in at one thirty.”

“We could totally change up the schedule though if you want to join. Saves me having to go get my stash.” You propped yourself up with one arm to look Simon in the eye.

“Yeah, you should join LT- wait stash? This is the first I’ve heard anything about a stash.” Soap turned to face you, his brows furrowed. Your head tilted in confusion back at the man.

“You… know about my stash right? I’m not crazy, am I? Ghost you know about my stash right.”

“Hard to forget.”

“Hard to forget? What the hell aren’t you two telling me about?” Trapped between the pair of you, Soap’s eyes darted back and forward between the two of you.

“You were out. She was rather lucky it was me who came to get her for a briefing and not Price.”

“Price would have knocked.”

“I did knock.” He growled and pressed his chest into Soap's back. “And you responded.”

“I didn’t say come in.”  You whined and he gave you a look, his eyes said it all.

“What did she say?” Soap asked.

“She moaned out my name like a bitch in heat.”

“Nhhh.” It was John who moaned out, his hand tightening around your waist.

“Yes, like that. Thank you for the example, Johnny.” Ghost huffed.

“Hey don’t blame me. She's the one that's milking the life out of me. Damn. Forgot how dirty talk gets her going.” John's voice was still rather strained while your cunt clenched around him. With a deep breath, he continued. “Still don’t know what this stache is.”

“It’s toys, she was making a joke about pegging you, Johnny.”

“Promise?”

“Joke?”

Soap and then you spoke at the same time. Soap turned to face you again. “I’m going to bring this up next time Ghosts out of town.” He gave you a serious look.

“Why when Ghosts on a mission?” You asked.

“‘Cause nothing can live up to him.” Soap leaned back and gave Ghost a grin. “Speaking of, you joining us?” Ghost didn’t reply, instead, he leaned away from Johnny for a moment and fished a bottle of lube out of the side table.

“You lost by the way.” You leaned in with a smug look on your face.

“Did not. This is- no- this is a draw." Before Soap could really get into the conversation, he paused, his breathed hitched and the hand on your thigh that was draped over him tightened. Ghost had lubricated two fingers and slowly started to circle Johnny's entrance.

"Wound up, aren't you? How long have the two of you been at this?"

"Um." You looked over to the clock on the bedside table. "About an hour, maybe two max?" You shrugged, unsure of when you really started.

"Two hours?" Soap choked out, his nails digging into you slightly. "Oh fuck." His eyes squeezed shut and his leg moved up ever so slightly to make it easier for Ghost to continue. Two fingers entered him and he buried his face into your shoulder.

"How are you doing there?" You whispered.

"Good, good." He choked as Ghost started to scissor him open.

"Think you can handle Simon's cock in you already?" You hummed out.

"I can handle anything."

"No, he needs more prep." Ghost overruled Soaps decision

"Mmm, if Simon says you need more prep then you need more prep. Try and relax more honey. Can you do that for us?" You cooed out and cupped his face with your hands.

"It's kind of hard to when you're warming my cock for two bloody hours. I'm sensitive."

"Come on McTavish. Where did that handle anything attitude go? If it's too much I can pull you-"

"-No, please. Just, fuck, I can relax. I can relax." True to his word, Soap took a deep breath and relaxed his body. His tense shoulders slacked and you could hear the slight wet sounds as Ghost started to finger fuck him.

"Mmm that's it, Johnny. Much better." Ghost's deep voice smiled in Soap's ear. Johnny's eyes were squeezed shut while his mouth gapped slightly ajar. Completely lost in the feeling of Ghost fingers.

"Ghost." Soap's moan was muffled by your shoulder while his dick twitched inside of you. Small movements that had you clenching down around him. "Fuck this is how I die." His groan had you laugh lightly, a smile beamed at Ghost.

"Too much darling?" Your voice was soft and had a slightly teasing tone to it but serious enough that if it was too much he knew to speak up.

"Don't even think about stopping." Over Johnny's shoulder, Ghost gave you a small nod and locked his eyes on you. Slowly you pulled Johnny's face up to meet your lips. A warm and passionate kiss which he groaned into as Ghost removed his fingers. A second later he ripped his lips away from yours, hands clawing into you as Simon pushed into him.

"That's it Johnny, slow and steady." Simon's voice was steady as his hand held onto Soap's leg, his knuckles occasionally brushing against your thigh which still rest there.

"Fuck, I've missed this." Johnny groaned as Ghost fully slotted himself inside of him. His hips pressed flush against Johnny's ass.

Seconds ticked by before Ghost pulled out almost the entire length only to snap his hips into the pair of you.

"Fuck!"

"Oh my god."

"That's it."

Simon let go of Johnny's thigh and found yours, an anchor point. He adjusted his body slightly and that was it. A kiss on John's shoulder was the only warning the pair of your received before he started to pull out and slam back into him. A steady and hard pace.  Every thrust had Johnny rocking his hips forward into you, fucking you.

"See there are benefits to us stealing your bed while you're gone." You moaned out, voice chopping as Simon continued to thrust forward.

"Yeah- oh fuck yes- like finding your best friend in bed with your girlfriend." Johnny smiled.

"Man that must be rough, in your own bed as well." You laughed.

"Christ." Ghost swore and slammed Johnny and by force, you, partially hard.

"You know-" You choked on your own words for a moment as the rounds of wet sounds mixed with the slapping of skin. "I think Ghost actually likes that idea?"

"Oh? Really? Maybe we should throw him a welcoming home party more often then eh?"

"Would you like that Simon? Whenever you come home to find the pair of us waiting for you?" Your voice managed to purr out as he fuck you hard, a brushing pace that had his fingers certainly leave marks on your thigh in the morning.

"Maybe I'll tie her up for you, edge her so she's all needy and pathetic when you get back."

"What- betrayal." You hissed at Soap whose laugh turned into a moan.

"You think you could handle her on your own Johnny boy?"

"For a while. At least until you get back. Nothing like having your cock against mine as we fuck that needy little cunt of hers."

"Always ready to stretch around us." Simon agreed and you choked out.

"Do I not get a say in this?"

"Come on love, don't act coy. We both know you love it." Soap grinned and you lightly slapped his chest. Your cunt squeezed down around him as you rolled your hips against him. Johnny's eyes closed in response and cut off any teasing.

"Fuck if you keep doing that I don't know how long I can keep going." He hissed.

"Your close?" Your voice had your smirk in it.

"Am now, fuck you have no idea how good the pair of you two feel."

"Yeah? Is Simon fucking you that good?"

"So good. I have no idea how you handle the pair of us 'cause he's got me so goddamn stuffed."

"What can I say? I do have a greedy little cunt don't I?" His eyes spanned open and his mouth gaped.

"Fuck Simon, right there." His head fell back against Ghost's shoulder while he both fucked himself back onto Ghost but forward into you. "Oh shit, oh fuck."

"Cum for us Johnny." Simon's slightly breathless voice whispered into his voice and he made sure to hit that sweet spot.

John pulled you as hard as he could against you. You could feel the way his cock pumped his seed into you. The way it twitched and throbbed.

"Fuck." His curse was long and drawn out as he came. Still, he continued to pump into you, emptying as much cum as he possibly could into you. Simon stopped his movements as John did, his hand losing from you as he melted into the bed.

"Damn." He breathed a slight laugh and pushed his hair back before he pulled himself from you. His seed was warm inside, slow to escape as he panted. Ghost allowed Soap a little more space to move about so that he was no longer on his side but on his back.

"Tapping out McTavish?"

"As much as I would love to continue I think I might die if my dick gets hard again." He laughed, wiping his face with his hand. "Wouldn't oppose to having someone's tits in my face though." He flashed the pair of you a grin which you rolled your eyes to.

"Would you like some of Johnny's famous tit worship?" You leaned over Soap's lap and batted your eyes at Ghost.

"Not tonight, he's all yours." Ghost slipped off the bed and started to move around to the end of the bed. With a shrug, you rolled over and pushed up. You mounted Soap and leaned over him. Quick to move, his hand found the middle of your back and pulled you forward so your chest was perfectly aligned with his face.

"God I love how hard these get." He pinched one causing a small whimper to leave your mouth. "Sorry, couldn't resist." He grinned before he buried his face into your breast. Lips latched onto your nipple, his hand started to grope and massage your free side.

The dip in the mattress was barely noticeable but you soon felt a rather large hand on your ass, giving it a good feel before the head of Ghost's cock poked at your entrance. Still partially filled with Johnny's seed and your own slick, Ghost was able to push in with ease.

A long rumble of his throat vibrated behind you. While Soap's dick was curved, perfect for hitting that sweet spot inside of you, Ghosts was impossibly large and thick. It filled your cunt to the very brim which caused the small amounts of cum to be pushed out.

Ghost's hand snaked around your front and wrapped it around your throat. Not squeezing it, just a grip. He pulled you back until your bare back met his now equal bare chest. He had removed his shirt. A small pop sound came when Soap let go of your breast, content to stare as Ghost started to fuck into you.

"That's fucking hot." Johnny hummed. He could see Ghost rather easily behind him and winked at the man. With his solid grip on you, Simon's pace was punishing. Desperate and unleashed.

"Gotta say the view is first class right here. Fuck look at those tits." Soaps eyes ran up and down your body and stopped at your cunt. He could just see the base of Simon's cock fuck up into you.

Your head rest back against Ghost and his arm wrapped around your midsection while he practically used you like a toy.

An idea popped into Soaps he'd and he placed his hand over your cunt. You managed to choke out his name a second before his thumb started to circle your clit.

"Johnny." Ghost groaned in your ear.

"Yeah, Ghost?"

"You're rubbing her clit aren't you?"

"Yes sir."

"Don't stop."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Clenching down around Ghost's cock, you couldn't help but feel slightly overwhelmed. Two layers of pleasure that had you practically shaking. Overwhelming sensations that had your body tight like a rubber band.

"Fuck I'm getting close." You mewled out, rocking your hips. You could feel Johnny press ever a bit harder, circling your clit so perfectly while Ghost kept up that perfect pace of his.

"Go ahead, let go for us." Simon pressed his lips on the side of your throat. Your moans were choked, whimpers of their names. Eyes shut, your voice broke off. Clenching down impossibly tight around Ghost he continued to fuck you through your high.

The grip on your throat loosened and Ghost gently helped you off Johnny and onto the bed. “Wasn’t too rough was I?” His voice was softer than usual, quiet but still as deep.

“Mmm, you're good. Just took it out of me, I’m good.” You rolled your head around on your neck. Cum and sweat covered not only your body but Simon's and Johnny's. “Feels weird to be empty.” You mumbled which caused John to let out a small chuckle while Simon disappeared.

“Come here, let me clean you up.” Something flashed across Soap's eyes as he spoke and you narrowed your brows at him. “Come sit.” He patted his checks with a grin and your brows raised. “Are you going to make me beg for it?” Soap shuffled a little and you rolled your eyes at him. However, you still obeyed his request. Crawling up over to him, you mounted his face and immediately he got to work.

Your oversensitive cunt had you gasp out and flinch away from his tongue. Not so quick to let you go, his hands immediately snapped to your thighs and found a solid grip. “Fuck you taste so good.” He moaned ad he licked away. Ghost's pre-cum mixed with your arousal danced on Soap's tongue.

“So sensitive.” You whimpered as you squirmed around.

“It's okay, I got you.” He paused only for a second and went back to town slurping at your juices.

“Shit, Soap, ahhh.” Your legs practically quivered.

“Oh fuck you're going to cum again aren’t you?” He smiled mischievously. “Do it for me.” You fell forward against the wall, one hand tangled in Soap's hair as you cried out. Johnny continued to lick at your clit as you sobbed, shaking and gasping out.

“Too. Much.” You managed to get out and he finally stopped, only doing small licks at the sides of your entrance.

“Couldn’t help myself.” A throat cleared behind you but you were too tired to acknowledge Ghost who had returned from his bathroom. You had no idea how long he had been behind you and frankly, you were too overstimulated and tired to care. Simon placed the glasses of water on the table with a couple of towels. A gasp left your lips in surprise when he leaned over and picked you up by the waist. John let go of your thighs and Simon put you down on the bed next to him.

You practically melted into Ghost’s touch. “Drink up.” He passed you a glass before he gave another to Johnny.

“What is this?” You blinked a few times at the liquid.

“Water.” The towel was warm when it touched your legs. Wet. Ghost kneeled next to the bed and slowly started to run it over you. Quiet settled over the three of you as Ghost cleaned you up and then did the same with Johnny. A yawn left your lips when Ghost finished, he put the towel over one arm and soon picked you up off the bed. A whine of displeasure left your now tired lips but you still latched onto the bathroom.

He carried you over to the bathroom and slowly put you onto your feet. “Do you want to wear something of mine or something of your own?” He asked and you let a small grunt as you steady yourself on the doorframe.

“Or nothing?”

“Nothing sounds good, go to bed. I can walk back.” You waved him off and grabbed the towel from his arm to toss in his hamper. Ghost gave you a nod and left you to your privacy.

When you finished up you slowly pushed open the bathroom door to see Ghost waiting there. His shirt was still missing but now had a pair of pyjama pants on. “Legs hurt.” You groaned and he was quick to pick you up and take you back to bed. He originally went to put you in the middle but you let out a small protest. “You go in the middle. We missed you.” Simeon didn’t reply but listened. He settles in between you and Soap. He pulled the covers up and the pair of you snuggled into the man.

“Hey Johnny?” You quietly spoke up.

“Yeah?” He looked at you over Ghost.

“Why the fuck does Ghost have such a better bed than us? Like, this thing is massive.” Ghost's chest deflated as he let out a big sigh.

“Probably cause of rank? Imagine how massive Price’s bed is.”

“Well, there's only one way to find out.” You paused at the end of your sentence. “Fuck Price.”

“Sneak into his room.” The pair of you spoke at the same time.

“It's because I was too tall to fit the default bed.” Ghost sighed but pulled the pair of you closer. “You're not going into Price’s room.” He looked over at Soap. “And your not fucking Price. Christ.”

“Aww, come on Ghost it was a joke. I don’t sleep with my COs.” You could practically feel Ghosts gaze on you. “I get fucked by them.”

“If you really want to know, you can ask Price tomorrow.” His lips blessed your forehead, he never could be annoyed at the pair of you. Even if he did act like he was. “For now, sleep.”

[formula-fun]

What is the chance of us getting another snippet from the if i had words sequel? I recently reread both charles and max’s povs and was reminded of what a great fic it is🥹 your writing is absolutely incredible

hiii thank you so much <333 i have no idea anymore what ive posted and what i haven't, is this new??

In January, Max woke up with a jolt. 

It was one in the morning. The clock beside the bed said as much, the bright red almost painful to his eyes. He woke up like this sometimes, and usually it took a minute for his half-asleep brain to realize what was wrong. Not today; not this morning. The air smelled thick and coppery, and within a breath he was wide awake, panic clawing at his chest. 

“Charles,” he said, his voice too rough and too loud. He reached across the mattress, and for one terrifying moment his hand felt nothing. Then it felt a body, and for an even worse moment the body felt cold beneath his touch. “Charles,” he said, louder. His voice wobbled. 

The sheets shifted. “Quoi,” Charles groaned, his voice muffled against the pillow. 

Max’s hand found the back of his neck beneath the sheets—warm, his hair fine and downy there, his scar a thin ridge beneath Max’s thumb. With his other hand he flicked on his reading lamp, and Charles groaned again and pulled the sheets over his face. 

Max pulled them away without a second thought, cupping Charles’ face and raising it from the pillow. He looked fine. His cheeks were flushed from the heat of their winter comforter, and he smelled like the warm, contented heaviness of sleep. His eyes drifted open into a glare. 

“What?” he grumbled, then his face cleared as he registered the panic in Max’s eyes. “Max?” 

Charles smelled content and warm and sleepy. He also smelled like blood. 

“You—are you alright?” Max asked, scenting him. Charles let out a confused purr, one short burst of sound, more a soothing noise than one of contentment. 

“I’m fine,” Charles says, bewildered, then shifted upward. His eyes went a little wide, and he sat up all at once, kicking the blankets away. “Merde.” 

There was blood between his thighs, tacky and half dried. There was blood on the sheets—not a lot, but enough to make Max feel sick.

“It’s fine,” Charles said quickly, because Max’s scent must have been doing scary things. “I’m fine.” 

“Did you cut yourself?” 

“No.” 

“We’ll go to the hospital,” Max said, his head spinning. Blood clots, internal bleeding, cancer—they’d had sex last night. Had this been his fault? But it had been slow and gentle, and this had never happened before. 

“No, sometimes…no. I have heard that sometimes people miscarry in the first week if their body is not ready to have a baby. Probably I have had this.” At Max’s look of horror he offered him a weak smile. “It is not even a miscarriage, it is more like a rejection. A few days, a week—there is nothing there.” 

“Did you know?” Max asks, his voice small. 

Charles shook his head. “I would have told you. It isn’t even anything at a few days.” 

“Last time you kept saying that, too.” 

“No, I mean it. A few cells. Literally a few. I’m okay,” he insists. “I will go see the doctor tomorrow, but it is probably just this. There is nothing to worry about.” 

Max let out a huff, nuzzling at Charles’ throat until Charles threaded a hand through his hair. He smelled sleepy and safe, not an ounce of fear in his scent or his voice. Max took a deep breath, trying to force his heart to calm. 

“It’s okay,” Charles said, then kissed his cheek and pulled away. “I need to shower.” 

Max nodded. “Go,” he said softly. “Give me your clothes. I’ll do the laundry.” 

Half an hour later the sheets were changed and Charles was curled up in his arms in soft joggers and one of Max’s more threadbare shirts. He smelled like sunburns and long days at the beach and Max’s favorite soap, and he purred when Max squeezed him close. 

“I’m okay,” he said quietly as Max turned the lights out again. 

“I know,” Max insisted, but he held him even closer. He pressed his nose against the top of Charles’ head, soaking up his warmth, cataloging every bit of him that assured Max that he was alive and healthy and happy; that he was fine. 

Charles’ purr faded into nothing as he drifted off. Max laid awake for a long time, just listening to his breathing. 

[popcornforone]

Wholehearted Attention

A Dave York Fan Fic

Stabby it’s been to long. I’ve missed writing Dave & I have lots of ideas for him in draft. But then someone sent me this photo & the idea formed itself & here we are… yep a Dave York Saturday is needed by all for some relief.

Synopsis:- You have had a stressful day at work & are having some me time in the bath, when Dave gets home & he is happy to encourage you.

Word Count:-3700

Warnings:- ALL OF THEM!!! seriously DONOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Oral both, mentions of piv, establish relationships, smut, swearing, cum tasting, squirting, drinking, shower sex, mentions of erotic literature, self pleasure, toys. Yea we are full on talking Dave at his Davest. Daddy is used.

God I’m so happy I wrote this & that Dave gets all of this.

Thanks for the read peoples, all feed back is welcome. I hope you enjoy.

“Thank fuck” you sigh as you walk through the door. The most hellish day of work is over. Presentations just kept coming at meetings. Phone calls & emails never stopped. You are glad to be kicking those heels off. You need a calm night a really calming night. You don’t know if your partners going to be home at all tonight, his work means his returns can be a little bit all over the place.

You know what you need. Your parents would scoff but you don’t care. You pour a large glass of wine & light a couple of candles as the bubble bath starts to fill up. Jasmine & cherry blossom. The same fragrance as your perfume which this year they made into bath products too. You also click the radio on to listen to some smooth rnb music as you undress & step into the tub. Nice & hot & ready for you to have a long soak. You when you have these moments of calm, always bring a small table with you, to put the wine, a small towel, your phone & a book on. The book is one of the items your parents would disapprove of. It’s called The Captains Desire. It’s pure smut. Men can watch porn all they want but women, as well as that, get to read & imagine it. You know you are up to the part where it’s about to get very hot. So this time you’ve also brought your bullet vibrator with you just to stimulate yourself enough. But before you enjoy your wine & read you make sure to wash yourself while the water is still warm. Steam comes off you as well as the tub.

15mins into your bath & You are lick your lips as you read, getting lost in the pages. It’s hot. It’s at the point where you want to enjoy it & so you slowly put your glass of wine down & grab the vibrator. No lube needed your in a hot steamy bath & you click onto button 1. You gasp as the vibrations start against your clit & you turn the page ready to see how the captain will respond to the tease in the book. But then the worst thing happens. As you select the second pulse setting your vibrator dies.

“What no!” You put your book down quickly & grab the towel to dry it off. You click again to start it up & it goes for 10 seconds before stopping again. You even try swapping the betteries round (down worry your hands are dry your aren’t stupid) but to no avail. “Fuck”

You say as you slam the toy down on the towel. It hadn’t even got you started. You sink completely under the bubbles & water & close your eyes for a minute. Trying to calm down. You know you need to come up for air soon, but your left hand has started to pleasure yourself underneath the suds. Your clit is so needy. You slowly push yourself up out of the water, eyes still closed & reach for the towel on the side.

It’s not there.

You start to panic.

You’ve got soap in your eyes & you don’t want it to sting. But before you can thrash around in the tub you feel the small towel Grace across your face. Your grip it & give yourself a proper dry before opening your eyes.

Your partner is home. He’s in a light blue shirt & black trousers, with a silver buckled belt. He’s home & he’s looking at you in awe.

“I’m home sweetheart”

“Dave” you lift your head a bit more & he leans his head down to softly kiss you. Your wet hand cups his face as he starts to breathe heavily. However you can already tell he’s not up for getting in the bath with you, well not yet anyhow. He’s not wearing a tie, he likes to be pulled by it from time to time with you just to give you some control.

“Having a relaxing evening”

“Very until my bullet stopped”

“Naughty, touching yourself without me” he mocks. Dave likes complete control, even over your self pleasure.

“Well you read that book & tell me if it’s not sexy” you roll your eyes at him, put the towel down now, your face is soap & bubble free & sip on your wine. Dave raises an eyebrow.

“Is this like 50 shades?”

“Ha” you scoff. “They wish they had written anything like this. This isn’t a romance this is desire & let’s just say that one of the book reviews for it online someone said they actually couldn’t recharge their dildo enough” Dave scoff at you.

“The captains desire” he reads before reading the blurb. “Captain Flores is on a survival mission that goes wrong & he is left with just his lookout Emilia Rutton, a woman who swore men off 6 years ago. But survival will mean much more than just getting out of this war zone alive. Hmmm doesn’t sound that smutty to me”

You sigh & look at Dave.

“Then read some to me”

“What?

“Read the next couple of pages to me & let’s see how it makes you feel” you’re still sipping on your wine.

“I’m not reading that” Dave put the book down.

“Why not? Are you afraid the Captain Flores is better at seducing than you?” Dave gives you a face like thunder. No one’s ever challenged his powers of seduction. You know he’s sometimes on mission where he needs to flirt kiss or sleep for information or for the kill. You’ve learnt to accept that over the last couple of years. You also know he’s cut back on doing that a lot since he was able to fill your cunt on tap.

“Didn’t you fall into my arms at that club?” He starts to clear the small table items off it putting them on the bathroom counter.

“True but if you’d not said you have a sour cocktail because you probably are just so sweet I’d have never sucked you cock in the disabled toilet that night”

“Ahhh memories, we should go out & do that again”

“Dave were banned” you both laugh.

“True but it was worth it”

Dave then sits on the cleared table at the end of the bath & takes the glass of wine from your hand. You rest your arms on the end on the bath lying on your front. As you turned Dave saw your arse come out of the water for a few seconds. He also loves that your head is directly in line with his crutch, so Dave man spreads as he sits on the little table & strokes your face.

“I’m going to read a page at random, okay? let’s see how it goes” he says. Your eyes light up. You know that even if there is no sex in a chapter it’s full of sexual tension from chapter 4 onwards of imaginary scenarios.

“Ahem” Dave clears his voice & randomly opens a page. You lick your lips hoping for him to read something dirty.

“Flores… she moaned begging for more. Feeling the way he licked her pussy dry… wooo” have slams the book shut but keeps a finger in that page.

“Problem Dave?” You ask like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth, all innocently.

“Thought you said this was smut, I’ve just read the next line. This is worse than some hardcore porn”

“Dave”

“I’m serious” he shakes his head. “& yet you can just casually sit in a bus with this in your hand & imagine all of that” you nod. “Damn women are built different.”

“Keep reading Dave im sure when you get to the captain you’ll sound so suave” Dave pulls a face at you.

“Okay” he slowly opens the book back up & you can see him try to see what’s coming next.

“Don’t spoil it for yourself Dave” you chuckle & smack his knee.

“Just wanted to see that’s all.” & he spreads his legs a bit more continuing to read. “Emilia knew it wouldn’t be long before she squirted covering the captains mustache. His left hand was fisting her arse as they lay on the hut bed. The broken mirror on the floor meant Emilia could see the captains angle. How he adored her. How his face was glistening each lick of her clit, each motion of her arse pucking had her moaning his name like this was the last time she’d ever be fucked. Her naked body still damp from being caught in the rain…” you are feeling aroused & you suddenly realise Dave is too. He can’t spread his legs anymore than that but there is a much larger bulge in his trousers than usual. Hes palming it as he reads. “… rain that they may have to shower in afterwards. Both of them are thinking this. There are few facilities in this shack. Both Flores & Emilia have wondered how good their naked body’s would work if they grabbed the soap, to clean each other only to just get dirty again…” his hand undoes his belt & the top button of his trousers just to stop his growing erection splitting the trousers. “Emilias body rolled feeling every sensation, not worried anymore if she’d suffocate the captain, although she was concerned as she now knew she could squirt that she might down him… oooh fuck” Dave’s hands tremble almost making him drop the book. You’ve slowly leaned forward unzipped his fly & started stroking his penis. “Oooh baby”

“Don’t think that was in that chapter Dave” you say long firm strokes get him fully erect in a few seconds.

“Who gives a fuck about a book, when I can have the real thing” he stands up & drops his trousers & boxers to the floor & strokes his own penis.”you now have my whole hearted attention” he slides the table forward, puts the book on the floor & strokes his angry head against you lips. “Do you want to make your daddy happy?” You nod & start to lick around the angry purple head of his penis now he’s sat back down. The pre cum is salty & tangy.

“Ooh sweetheart” his hips already bolting. “No wonder you take long baths if you read that kind of stuff” he caresses your face as you start to slurp taking him into your mouth further. The grip on your chin is firm but you know it will get harder. He fills your mouth. Saliva coating his length. Your eyes wide each time he hits the back of your throat. He’s on the edge of the table now because he wants to be ever further down your throat. The noises you are making are forcing Dave to concertrate, he doesn’t want to cum in the first few minutes, but the feel of your plump lips engulfing him make his eyes roll back. His grip on your chin gradually getting tighter.

“You like making daddy happy, fuck baby, your mouth was made for my cock, fuck.” He’s growling. He briefly lets go of your chin to remove his blue shirt so he is also naked before both his hands return to your head one on the chin & one runs it’s way through your hair before he encourages more movement, more bobbing, because he wants to see you as a spluttering mess when he ejaculates.

“You gonna swallow it all when the time comes, sweetheart? Is my good little girl gonna make me happy? Bet your soaked even without being in the bath” he whines as he holds your chin in place. You nod & he pushes down harder. One hand of yours helping his penis as you choke around it. The other has your fingers digging into your thigh. He’s panting hard, his moans echo around the bathroom. The feel of his length inside your mouth & the way your suck & twirl your talented tongue, has him struggling to hold on.

“Fuck baby, ooh shit oooohhhh mmmmmm shit fuck more more I can’t I… I… oooh jesus!” Dave screams your name. His ball almost burst. Your mouth spills his seed as it flows into your mouth & it doesn’t stop. Often Dave will trickle & then will give you some more when he fucks you in which ever position he likes that night. But no, your gagging & you swallow some as you remove his penis from your mouth. His cum escapes as he sits back & let’s go if your head.

“Fuck oooh fuck” he pants as he try’s to calm down, he’s still hard so you grip him again & slowly start licking off his cum & your spit from his length, you chin getting even more covered in the residue. “Well sweetheart you do have the magic touch.” He smirks as you let his cock go from your mouth as is starts to soften with a pop. “You did miss a spot” Dave says. You know you have, you can feel it on your face. His salty seed & your saliva. You take your thumb & push it back into your mouth.

“Tastes like heaven Dave” you moan & lean your head over the edge of the bath once you are done. Dave thinks your going into for a kiss but you aren’t. He’s a little perturbed when you move your head back, but then his eyes widen. You blow a spit Bubble & then gulp it down to create another one.

“Oooh my little slut you have all my attention” you both know his cum is mixed in with your spit as you keep regurgitating the bubble. The 5th time, it’s large & sloppy & you let it pop so your lips are covered by the moisture. You’ve never seen Dave move in for a kiss so quickly in your life. His tongue & yours working together, tasting the tangy mess your collective bodily fluids have made. No romance novel would ever cover this moment. He’s hungry for you despite you satisfying him.

“Want more Dave?” You mumble eventually as your lips break.

“Just a taste sweetheart, just a taste” both his arm go underneath you & with his magnificent strength he hoists your naked dripping body out of the bath so you glisten in front of him. He licks his lips & he cups your left breast. “We don’t want you wrinkling sweetheart do we, not while daddy is ravenous” he raises an eye brow before smacking your bum. Your little squawk has him all excited, as he then takes a few steps back & lays on the floor.

You know what he wants, & he expects you to know. His crutch & penis are so inviting to ride on but Dave wants you to take pride of place on your favourite seat. You’re still standing & walking up the side of him. You’ve not towelled off. You’re still dripping but that’s what he likes. If Dave had his way, he’d have you as a stay at home partner walking around in just the matching underwear he buys you so then he can shred it from your body when he needs a release & he can fuck your body until you physically can’t cum anymore. Dave is that man & damn you’ll play the needy bratty slut for him on command. You secretly enjoy it more than you let off but it does also stop Dave’s eyes wandering else where.

“How much of a taste would you like daddy?” You say as you stand across him. He’s looking up. He could try & make eye contact but he’s really looking straight up your legs, & past your thighs to see what your index finger is doing to your clit already. He’s not sure if it’s your arousal or bath water that’s dripping onto his face. He doesn’t give a fuck. You want this too.

“I want it all, I want you to forget your name & give me a facial” his hands are running up your lower legs, stopping just below your knees. He knows your ticklish behind them but he stops as you lower yourself slowly ready to sit on Dave’s face.

“Say please daddy”

“Oooh no sweetheart, you should be the one asking for it” those two firm hands pull you straight over his head & he sniffs at your sex. “Oooh fuck baby,” & he licks his first stripe over your clit.

“Mmm yeaa” you moan back. He’s going in circles around it. His tongue is even more magnificent than yours.

“Ddd…Dave” your whingeing already. Dripping onto his lips feeling every motion.

“On all fours” you hear as Dave grips your arse.

“Hmmm” Dave spanks your bum.

“All fours sweetheart, I know what you like.”

“What do you…. Ahhh” Dave swats your bum again meaning you jolt forward. He moves his head to the side so you can see him speak to reveal something you thought he didn’t know.

“I’ve seen you, using that wand on all fours, a pillow between your legs to hump so you can feel the friction. I know it gets you off. I’ve heard you scream my name as you do it” you blush the deepest shade of red. How does Dave know this? & yet the idea of him spying on you arouses you even more. “I want you to face fuck me”

“Dave.. I…” a firm smack connects with your arse. You moan, arousal drips onto his neck.

“It’s not a requested, Daddy said he wanted to give you his whole hearted attention.” His fingers dig into your bum & start to move you in place.

You get on all fours & the tip of his nose rubs against your clit as he squeezes you down onto his face. Both his hands gripping just bellow your arse cheeks as you moan.

“Fuck Dave… oooh god” his oral onslaught starts. “Mmmm oooh yess yess” your hesitant at first., you don’t want to suffocate him underneath you, your looking up at the bathroom sink, your feet starting to twitch in pleasure. It’s only a few more seconds before you start to move. Your hips rolling. The anti-clockwise motion pushing onto his face. He laps away at your cunt. Suddenly your no longer worried & you start to move like you do when your on top for missionary or when you have your own time & his pillow between your legs.

“Ooooohhh yes yes yes.” You moan as your body jiggles & Dave sticks his thumb inside your arsehole. “Yea baby yea, I like that fuck ooooh yes yes yes” you can’t control your moans. Your body twitches as your cunt gets devoured by the best oral lover(or any sexual lover for that matter) that you’ve ever had in your life. He looks after you & the way his hand is now caressing your cheeks, while the other now has another finger in your arse has you screaming loudly.

“Fuck daddy yes fuck fuck you gonna make me cum you gonna make me squirt, oooh baby more more more more oooh fuck yes.” You convulse & feel everything explode inside you. With an earthy groan you climax & cover his face, drenching him. You hear him splutter a little as your body slows down, but then as you go to give him air he keeps you in place, lepping every single drop that you just squirted all over him. “Oh fuck yes that’s it” his head is fully locked between your twitching thighs as you calm down.

“Good girl” you hear from between your legs. A softer pat of your arse happens & he helps you crawl off him onto the bathroom floor. You rest your head next to his as you both lie there exhaling for air for different reasons. You turn your head & see his glistening face & he laughs.

“I made a mess”

“That you did” it’s a delicious kiss he gives you as you lean in. You can taste your own saltyness on his lips & skin. You slowly start to caress his body, working your way down to his happy trail & eventually start stroking his once again hard penis. Pre cum dripping from the tip as he cups your breasts. This is no longer a soft kiss, your making out on the bathroom floor. Dave’s moaning more than you are as you both sit up & he pulls your body in close, he can feel your heart race. Each thud making him want you more. He slips a finger inside your cunt just to keep you moist for the next part of the evening.

“I think we need to clean this up sweetheart.” He says eventually his lips leaving yours but his index finger shhing you before you can say a word. “Didn’t your book talk about those two having a shower & exploring each others bodies after an adventure?”

“Yes Dave it did”

“Well let’s get dirty while getting clean, because you face fucking me is the greatest adventure of my day” Dave slowly stands up & helps you up off the floor slapping your arse once more. “I mean I once was an army captain, maybe in should make you call me that instead of daddy?”

“Don’t tempt me captain,” you reply as you both step into the shower. “I might need to be punished for breaking your rules” steam fills the walk in shower as the hot water flows & Dave pushes you against the glass as the spray hits you both.

“Well if good girls are gonna read smut, they are going to get all they deserve” Dave growls eyes filled with desire. As his lips find yours for a hungry kiss you gasp, he’s filled you to the brim, your special spot quivering I’m just the one motion. “But my girl, she likes to make me happy” he says before his rhythm picks up not just in the shower, but in bed afterwards for the next 2 days.

[r0tt3n-ruzt]

Simpbur steals your right kidney

simpbur steals gn!readers kidney. i made this out of rage I'm normal i swear. first fic here what a great start

i blame @lillyspeakz don't hate me

not beta read we die like men

You lived a boring life, you spent boring hours in boring college classes learning boring things. It was really nothing new, new was rare once in a blue moon type of chance. You woke up, went to classes, went home and slept, but now for once something changed, you didn't wake up in your bed with warm blankets covering you. Instead it all felt cold, freezing even. As you sat up the feeling of sleep quickly washed away being replaced by panic as you realized where you were.

The tub's sides were slippery and the ice you were submerged in burned in a way, most of your body felt numb, a small tingling irritating your skin and flesh. The world around you started to spin as pure fear took over your senses clouding your train of thought, it looked like your bathroom, your soaps, towels, everything was right there as you'd last left it, well kinda, as you looked down towels were messily placed all over the bathroom flooring. Then you saw it, a pile of clothing that belonged to you, the clothes you wore to sleep last night. At least the top. When you looked down your nice sweatpants were still on. Every detail of the situation felt hard to process jumping from one to the other to piece together what was happening to you.

The ice covered most of your lower body, god was it hard to move much. Not just from the slippery cold ice but from a horrid drowsy feeling that kept you sitting down in that tub. Your head snapped around as you heard the door to the bathroom being opened, in came Wilbur, a classmate of yours. He was an odd one to say the least, he had his own friends his own hobbies his own things to do yet it always felt like he was watching you, side glares at you while talking to his friends, always visiting the same places as you during lunch break, which wouldn't sound so odd considering he brought his friends usually , who would bring a group of people with them to go stalking?

Using that logic you brushed it off until you started seeing him in the halls, going the same way as you on campus when you knew for a fact his classes were elsewhere, seeing him around town, in the library, the route you use to get to the university, maybe one more coincidence might of given your dumb brain the ability to realize something was wrong, deeply wrong. And now you were here, in a bathtub of ice and your classmate of one actual class staring down at you with tired eyes.

He looked exhausted and ready to get this over with. His eyebrows raised when he saw you were awake. Wilbur cleared his throat gently, kicking the door closed behind him. “Ah, your uh, awake” he said meekly talking as if this was a whole different situation, maybe like if he'd made dumb joke on a first introduction or met you in the library alone, not the culprit of whatever the fuck was happening. You opened your lips to speak yet nothing came out, what could you say in a situation like this? Throw a “fuck you” at the man who had more of an advantage than you? You were stupid at times yea but in a predicament like this you had to find some logic in the cavity of a skull you had.

But now isn't the time to be insulting anything, not you nor the man who just stood there awkwardly like he was waiting for you to say something, he probably was but as the second went by he realized you'd decided to keep your words to yourself. In response he just shrugged it off walking over to pick up a box from on the sink counter. Wilbur held the box in both hands before looking back at you taking a deep breath in before speaking “listen uhm I'm sorry?” his words sounded oh so very sincere, with a mere shrug going with it for extra effect. With wide eyes staring at him you took only a moment before managing a few words. “What.. what did you do??” you asked, your question turning from quite to expressive with each word.

Wilbur just stared at you for a moment like he was in thought, maybe even a bit shocked. He looked you up and down before his face turned back to a tired expression this time seeming a bit forced. Maybe to make himself look more intimidating? Who knows, but he cleared his throat once again and with slight hesitation began to speak. “ I removed your right kidney, if you didn't notice the stitches on your body. Might want to clean those everyday. I'm not a professional.”  this, this had to be some kind of joke right? “You removed my what?!” you yelled out, this had finally prompted you to try and pry yourself out from the ice and as he said, there it was, a scar, poorly stitched up right on your side.

“As I had said, I removed your right kidney while you were sleeping.” this whole thing felt so unreal, there was no way he actually did that, right? But there was the scar, the box, and ice. A reality you didn't, no couldn't even imagine to have happened to you. It crushed you, that feeling of panic from before seeping back in stronger than before, not like you calmed down at all during this but it felt like a new kind of panic, more intense, as the horrors of the reality of the situation earned tears to begin collecting and calling from your eyes, Wilbur groaned rolling his eyes like this was some kind of annoyance to him, an inconvenience that he had to put up with.

“No no no, why are you crying? It's not like you're going to die, it's just one kidney you got two right? Just change up that soda diet of yours and you should be fine.” he spoke so casually of this like it was some normal thing, like he didn't break into your house and steal an entire organ. You couldn't speak let alone think anymore, tears streaming down your face in horror of what was happening. A disgusted look on Wilbur's face only added to it all. “You know you're being quite rude here, I have like.. A headache and your whining is really not helping man that's not very poggers"

Wilbur looked down at you once more before turning around facing the door. “I have to go uhm don't tell anyone or you know or else?” he looked back for a second just staring at you, he got more annoyed this time letting it get him. “Listen, I need it okay? You have your other one go use that, cutting back on some shit isn't the end of the world.” and with that he turned again leaving you in the bathroom to sulk before you could even say anything, leaving you alone in a cold, empty room, with only one kidney. What was he going to do with it? Probably sell it on eBay. He needs the money. The economy has been shit ok?

[cod-dump]

Haunted

SoapGhost fic

___

Soap and Ghost never become intimate while in 141. Both didn’t want to cross the line. And a part of them believed the other didn’t feel the same way. Years go by with them remaining close friends. But something happens and Ghost disappears one day. Just gone within a night.

It sent Soap in a panic so he went to Price. The man assured him that Ghost was alive, and that’s all he would tell him. Price couldn’t tell Soap anything but Soap knew he was discharged. Just like that, his best friend and the man he loved the most is gone.

Soap continued on, raising rank to lieutenant. Ghost slowly becomes nothing more than a distant memory. A memory that hurts him every time it rears itself. Soap becomes stone cold, slowly losing himself as he fights. Finally, Price tells him it’s time. He had grown too old to keep fighting and no one else would take his place. This was the end of 141.

Soap planned on continuing to fight, but Price urged him to go home. So Soap goes home. To his aging parents, his married sisters and their grown children. They welcomed him home eagerly, but Soap felt so out of place. He forced himself to smile for their sake. His mother made his bed in his old room. The room was just as he remembered, left untouched by the years he was gone.

He tried to merge back into civilian life, but he just couldn’t. He was always standing guard, waiting for something to happen.

One evening, after dinner, Soap was doing the dishes. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he jumped and turned around. He relaxed when he saw his father, hands up to show he meant no harm.

“At ease, soldier.”

“Sorry, Pa…”

His father looks him in the eye before speaking, “Service hasn’t been kind to you.”

Soap resumes the dishes, “Hasn’t been kind to anyone.”

“Have you kept in touch with your old team?”

Ghost immediately comes to mind, Soap’s heart aching. He stops scrubbing the already clean plate, swallowing.

“Gaz- Kyle, is back home in London. Old man Price is in Liverpool. Kyle visits Price often.”

His father nods, “Could invite them over. Have a get together.”

Soap loved that idea. To seem them again, to see that they were doing well instead of just hearing about it. Ghost flickers across his mind again and Soap sighs.

“Would be nice to see them.”

“Then let’s do it. Call up your old team. They can stay a week or so.”

“Would Ma be okay with that?”

“Of course! You know your mother, she never meets a stranger.”

Soap stares out the kitchen window at the black sky. Involuntarily Ghost comes back. Soap thinks about him meeting his family, his mother taking his hand and asking if he had eaten yet. His father wrapping an arm around his shoulder, already calling him ‘son’. His sisters teasing him as he gets roped into watching the youngest of the MacTavish family. Soap sighs, looking to his father.

“I’ll call them up.”

“Good, lad.”

That night Soap laid awake at night, Ghost plaguing more than he had in years. Every thought turned back to him. All Soap could think was that he missed him so much, that he hated that Ghost left before Soap could tell him how he felt. He desperately wanted to go back, to that very night that Ghost disappeared on. Take his hands before they separated to go to bed, tell him how much he loved him.

But that won’t happen.

Soap rolls over in bed, blinking away the tears as he curls up. He forced his thoughts onto Gaz and Price, on the joy he will feel from seeing them again. Maybe he could talk about Ghost with them… he knows they don’t miss him like he does. That they weren’t plagued by him every day, every night, wishing that he could see him again.

Soap closes his eyes, hugging his pillow as sleep slowly comes to him like a skittish animal, the slightest sound or movement threatening to chase it off. Darkness overcame him after what felt like hours. Probably was hours.

Soap found himself awake in his bed suddenly. He blinked before sitting up. Was this a dream? He honestly couldn’t tell. Soap slipped out of bed and into the hall, walking carefully past his parent’s bedroom. He makes his way downstairs and into the living room, surprised to find someone sitting on the loveseat. He should be alarmed but something told him there was nothing to fear from the stranger.

He creeps closer, “Hello? Who are you?”

The man turns to him and Soap found himself frozen at Ghost’s face. It was exactly how he remembered him all those years ago. Not a bit of age on him. Soap steps forward, tears welling up.

“Simon!”

Ghost smiles sadly at him, “Good to see you, Johnny.”

Soap tried to get closer but it felt like he wasn’t getting any closer no matter how much he ran. Ghost stands and turns to him, that sad smile never leaving him.

“I’m sorry, John… I can’t stay.”

“No, please don’t go!”

Ghost seems to fizzle away, “Goodbye, Johnny.”

“Simon! SIMON!”

Soap’s eyes snap open. After a minute the tears start to pour, Soap burying his face into his pillow to muffle his sobs. He rolls onto his back, blindly reaching for his phone. When he finds it, he dials a number and holds the phone to his ear with a shaking hand. After a minute someone picks up.

“Johnny?”

“What happened to him?”

Price’s groggy voice seems to clear quickly, “John… I can’t—“

“It’s been twenty years, Price… Please… What happened to Simon?”

Price was quiet before he speaks, “He had a… episode. The higher ups decided they could no longer ignore that he was in the field. No longer pretend that it was okay. So he was discharged.”

Soap swallows, “He… why leave in the middle of the night? Why didn’t he say goodbye?”

There was a weight in Price’s voice. It was so heavy and tired, “That night is when he had the episode. They didn’t allow him to come back.”

Soap blinks away the tears, “He couldn’t say goodbye…”

“No, son. They believed that it would do more damage than good.”

“Fucking— Do you know where he went?”

“Son, that’s all I can tell you. I’m sorry but… Simon is gone. He’s been gone for twenty years.”

Soap grips his phone, “You don’t know.”

“John—“

“You don’t know what happened to him. Do you?”

Silence. It dragged on for a good bit before Price finally breathed out, “No. I don’t.”

Soap chokes, “Of course… he’s the Ghost.”

“If he wanted you- any of us- to know what happened to him, we would know already.”

Soap rolls over, feeling the dampness on his pillow from his tears, “Yea… you’re right.”

“I’m sorry I can’t give you the closure you seek, John.”

“I need to give myself closure, not get it from someone.“

“We can’t always give ourselves what we need. It’s okay to reach out when you need help.”

Soap laughs, “Always know what to say.”

“I read too many fortune cookies.”

The night dragged on. Hours passed before Price finally decided to go back to bed, telling Soap good night before hanging up. After the line clicked, Soap slowly let his phone slip from his hand. Staring at the window. Somewhere out there was Ghost. And Soap wondered if that somewhere was in his future to visit.

[rosiesramblings]

Steve Is Forcibly Adopted

Fandom: Stranger Things

WC: 1.5k

A/N: It's been a minute! I swear I meant to finish this like a month ago. I hope you enjoy this fic of Steve and his chosen family.

It was in the early hours of July 5th, 1985, when Hopper and El adopted Steve. It would be a while before Steve himself recognized this, but that night at the hospital was the beginning of their cobbled-together family.

The exhaustion had taken residence in Hopper’s bones, and with the hefty dose of non-opioid pain meds in his system, the only thing he wanted was to go home and sleep. Preferably on the floor of El’s room, but he would settle for the couch outside her door if she wanted space. El had been given stitches and a clean bill of health by Owens’ people, and had quietly accepted the crutches Hopper pushed into her arms. 

“Ready to head home?” Hop asked as El pulled herself to her feet and awkwardly positioned the crutches under her arms. Instead of answering, she started toward the door.

The two of them made it slowly down the endless hallway, quiet except for the beeping machines behind other closed doors. Until -

“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington, but we can’t release you until you have someone who can watch you for the next few days,” an apologetic nurse could be heard from behind a curtain.

“It’s Steve. And I promise I’ll be fine, and I’ll come back if anything weird starts to happen, just - please, let me leave,” Steve Harrington sounded like he was half delirious, half on the verge of tears.

“Steve, you were injected with an unknown substance, we really can’t let you leave on your own,” the nurse explained.

Hopper had heard enough. One glance at El’s wide pleading eyes was all he needed before he twitched the curtain aside with a gruff, “We’ll take him.”

Steve and the nurse both jumped, and Jesus, it looks like the kid’s been through the wringer. Bruises littered his face, a patch of gauze was taped over one eye, and Hopper could tell the kid was dealing with some broken ribs by the way his arm cradled his torso.

Steve blinked in confusion as the nurse brightened. “Chief Hopper! Of course, I’ll get his discharge paperwork. Shouldn’t take two minutes.”

XXXXXXXXX

In the hospital parking lot, Steve hung back when El and Hopper clambered into Hop’s car. He kept his eyes on the ground, scuffing the toe of one sneaker. “Thanks for breaking me out, Chief. I’ll, uh, get out of your hair.”

Hop didn’t even have to look to see the way El’s eyes narrowed. She opened her mouth, but Hop beat her to it. “Kid, I wasn’t lying about keeping an eye on you. The nurse said you need to be watched, so we’ll watch you. Got it?”

A blush crept up on Steve’s face. “Oh, I couldn’t impose, really, and I’m sure you want to spend some time with Supergirl here, and -”

“Steve,” El’s quiet plea stopped him in his tracks. “We want you. To come home with us. Please.” The passenger side door swung open. El wiped a trickle of blood from her nose.

“Get in the damn car, kid,” Hop said gruffly. 

Steve got in the damn car.

XXXXXXXXX

What was supposed to be a week of Hop-and-El-supervision melted into two weeks of all-three-of-them-healing-and-processing, which became a month of Steve-helping-El-with-schoolwork-while-Hop-fixed-up-the-cabin, until one day Hopper climbed up the cabin steps after work, listening to the faint sounds of his kids making dinner together, and he was suddenly struck by how right it all felt.

The three had dinner together, and El turned on her favorite soap while Hop took care of the dishes. Steve took a quick shower, and then padded into the living room in his pajamas. He collapsed on the couch next to El, making her bounce in her seat.

“Do we have to watch this boring show, Ellie? Why can’t we put on a baseball game or something?” He whined playfully.

“Because,” El said primly, “My show is good. Baseball is just men chasing after a ball and trying to get it in a hoop.”

Steve flopped over on top of El. “Ellie, that’s basketball, not baseball. Come on, please?” He turned his face up to give her puppy eyes.

“Get off! You are heavy!” Ell laughed, shoving at Steve’s shoulders.

“Please please please please please?” Steve asked, punctuating each please with a poke to El’s side. 

El collapsed to the side with a bright giggle, shaking her head rapidly back and forth, making her curls bounce. Never one to be outdone, she poked Steve back. “No no no no no no! We are watching my show!”

Hopper dried the last dish and wandered into the living room, settling into the armchair and ready to make sure his kids didn’t kill each other.

Steve just grinned at El, shrugging nonchalantly. “Sorry, Ellie, not ticklish.”

“What is ‘ticklish’?”

“When I poked you and you laughed just now? That’s because your tummy is ticklish,” Steve explained, poking El again.

She grinned, then pushed his hand away with a pout. “But you are not? Ticklish?”

“Nope,” Steve said. Hopper watched as he bit down on the left side of his bottom lip. Hop snorted. Steve couldn’t lie to anybody, except maybe El.

Both of their heads whipped around to look at Hopper. Steve looked indignant. “What? I’m not!” he protested, still biting down on the corner of his lip.

“You can’t lie for shit kid,” Hop chuckled. He turned to El, patiently explaining, “Sometimes, a person can hold back their laughter when tickled in certain places. That just means you have to find the place where they can’t help but giggle.”

El looked like Christmas came early, while Steve’s face turned bright red. El turned to Steve, “Where? Where where where?” Poking at his ribs and neck, where Hop knew El herself was ticklish.

Steve’s eyes widened, before he gently pushed her hands away. “Sorry Ellie. Some people are like that, yeah, but some people just aren’t ticklish.”

“Some people, maybe, but not you,” Hop snickered as Steve shot a glare his way.

“Hop doesn’t know what he’s talking about!” Steve protested loudly, trying to catch El’s hands as they started poking with renewed vigor.

“Oh no?” Hop asked. He surveyed Steve with a critical eye. “El, try behind his knees.”

“Hop!” Steve yelped incredulously, before promptly launching himself off the couch with a shriek as El did just that.

Hop chuckled to himself as Steve immediately shot to his feet, making a mad dash for his room. Unfortunately for him, Hopper had the reflexes of a parent, and shot his arm out to snag Steve around the waist before hauling him into his lap.

“Wait wait wait, Hop don’t, please, please I’ll die, just wahahahahait!” Steve collapsed into bubbly laughter as Hop’s fingers fluttered behind his knee, kicking out at nothing.

El let out a delighted gasp. “You lied! Friends don’t lie!” And she ran over to shove her fingers behind Steve’s other knee.

Steve’s laughter doubled as he visibly tried to hold back his kicks so as not to hurt El. “Nohohohohoo! Plehehease, I’m sohohohorry!

“Now that we've got him giggling,” Hopper explained over Steve’s protests, “He probably can’t hold back when we do this.” Hop dug into Steve’s tummy and raked his fingernails in towards Steve’s belly button, prompting an actual scream from Steve before he started cackling.

El happily flapped her hands at Steve’s reactions as she moved up to spider her fingers along his neck and collar bones. Steve scrunched up, trying to block El’s fingers but only succeeding in trapping them against his sensitive skin.

Steve had apparently lost the ability to form words, and when Hop saw the first tears trickle down from the corners of his eyes, he slowed his hands. “Okay, okay El. He’s had enough,” Hop said, using his thumb to wipe away Steve’s tears of mirth. El retracted her hands and resumed flapping happily, climbing onto the arm of the chair that wasn’t occupied by Steve.

Hop tried rubbing a soothing hand up and down Steve’s back, but he arched away with a giggle. “Jesus, kid, is there anywhere you aren’t ticklish?” Hop asked. Steve stuck his bottom lip out in a pout, but wordlessly moved Hopper’s hand to his hair. Hop took the hint and started scritching lightly at Steve’s scalp. Steve melted into Hopper with a sigh. El, feeling left out, dragged Hopper’s other hand to her own head, where he obligingly gave her the same treatment. 

Hopper pressed kisses to the crowns of both of their heads and tried to chisel the moment into his memories. His thoughts strayed to Sarah, as they often did these days. He hoped she was proud of him. As his other kids’ breaths evened out, he let himself think of her smile. Wherever she was, Hopper hoped she knew he missed her. 

He liked to think she had a hand in El and Steve coming into his life.

[bitchin-beskar]

hi 👋

may I request a reader that is a pack rat but with useful things? like they’re always ready with something in their bag to help tf141 with their needs. wether its a snack, an extra shirt, or whatever. they’re just dora with their backpack lol

and the men are always in awe bc ‘how are they always ready for any situation’?? it can be platonic or romantic but would surely love some fluff with it. please and thank you! 🥰

hello love!!! you can indeed request that!!! this is such a cute idea!!!

you suggested dora with the backpack, which is very valid, but my brain also jumps to daphne blake from scooby doo bc that girl carries a tiny ass purse and has everything under the sun and can make shit on the fly like nothing (there was one episode where she made a hydroelectric battery to power the mystery machine like it was nothing lol)

so taking both of those vibes and jumping headfirst in!!! here's a tidbit from how I think a fic with that might go!! (also I kept reader gender neutral in this one, bc you didn't specify any pronouns!)

It's finally happened, Soap is sure of it. The 141 has finally run into a situation that BP isn't gonna have the supplies for.

BP is the callsign of the team medic, which is why you could be forgiven for thinking their name is short for 'blood pressure.'

It's not.

It's short for 'backpack.'

Soap had chuckled when he first heard it, but those little chuckles quickly died when he realised his superiors were serious. All they'd say was that you were uniquely skilled at anticipating the needs of your teammates on any given mission, as well as a well-qualified and well-trained field medic and surgeon.

That first mission, everything had gone FUBAR, including the exfil being shot down, leaving the team stranded in enemy territory with their only possible transport being new black-market Humvees with remote locking systems that were thus far unbreakable. Price and Ghost had been conversing over a plan of attack when you'd simply opened up your ever present backpack and pulled out a small handheld remote. Flipping a switch, you pointed it at the nearest Humvee, and an audible click! indicated it was now unlocked.

They'd all stared for a solid minute before you coughed and said "Uh, about that exfil?" and the team jerked into action and dove for the doors of their new escape vehicle. When asked what the fuck kind of wizard tech you had, you simply shrugged and said it was a universal remote.

Soap had figured it for a one-off. He'd never been more wrong.

Ghost's balaclava gets irreparably damaged and covered in gross bodily fluids? You've got a brand new one in the exact size he needs, made from water resistant fabric.

Price's cigars get lost in (yet another) heli crash? You've got a brand new box of Maduro cigars in that backpack, the only explanation being that you'd "found them while out shopping."

Gaz loses his ball cap, and you whip out a spare without even a second glance, shoving it onto his head without a care in the world, even as he's sputtering because "how the hell do you have the same damn cap? I bought that old one years ago!"

Alejandro's iPod gets destroyed after the team has to flee through a river and all their gear gets waterlogged, and out of a Ziploc, you pull a brand new one with the headphones he likes, and he's shocked to see it's downloaded with all his favorite songs, and the default setting is currently on Spanish.

Rudy's a diabetic, and his insulin pump gets damaged in a knife fight, and not only do you have insulin for him, you have a brand new pump as well, and specific snacks that will help him hold out till he can replace the pump. It's originally brushed off that you have this because of being the team's doctor, until Rudy points out that you don't actually have access to his medical records, with him being Mexican Special Forces and you being SAS.

And Soap? Soap ran out of room in his journal one day, in the middle of trying to sketch and he hadn't realized how close he was to the end, so he hadn't brought a spare. Before he even has the chance to feel disappointed, you're slipping a brand new journal with the exact right type of paper he prefers into his hands.

It's not just personal stuff either. Any tool, gadget, gizmo, whirlygig, or thingamabob they could think of, you just... had it. Wrenches, screwdrivers, hammers, lockpicks, extra mags, oil, cleaning rags, padlocks, bolt cutters, bandaids, needles, suture thread, ice packs, heat packs, gauze, hair ties, bobby pins, the list goes on and on and on.

Never, not once had there been a situation where the team had needed something that you couldn't pull from the dark, yawning pit that you called a backpack.

Except, Soap is confident that this time, you don't have what they need. You couldn't possibly have predicted this outcome.

The mission had been a comedy of errors, the team racing across the globe, bouncing between countries, hopping from continent to continent tracking the HVT Laswell had sent the lot of you after. Through a completely random turn of events, you'd ended up in the United States of all places, in the wooded areas of Washington state. It wasn't a state park, per se, but close enough. Supposedly, there was a cache here that the HVT frequented, and might have valuable intel.

Unfortunately, your way had been blocked by some State Park Rangers, who demanded that you either provide proof of registration that allowed you to be there, or the team had to leave.

Of course, being members of the SAS and Fuerzas Especiales, who operated out of Europe and Mexico respectively, the likelihood of any of them having the right paperwork was infinitesimal.

"Hold on!"

Soap whirled around at the sound of your voice. There you were, rummaging through your backpack.

"No fuckin' way," Gaz whispered, the rest of the team going deathly still.

There was absolutely, positively, no possible way on God's green Earth that you were gonna–

"Found it!"

You let out a whoop of excitement, pulling a small rectangular piece of plastic from your bag, a hole through the top indicating that it might go in a car, hanging from the rearview mirror.

"Here's our permit for the Washington State Parks and Forestry. Just renewed it, too."

The Rangers took it sceptically, but their faces cleared as they looked it over.

"Everything seems to be in order then, ma'am. Sorry for the delay and confusion."

"No problem!" You chirped, ignorant of the dumbfounded stares at your back. "Have a good day, gentlemen!"

Soap felt dizzy. He felt weak. He might actually collapse here on the spot from pure confusion alone. He could faintly hear Gaz muttering behind him, and in his peripheral vision, Alejandro was shaking with silent laughter, and Rudy looked like he'd just been handed the answers to the universe's greatest mysteries.

This had to be a dream. Soap refused to accept reality otherwise.

The Rangers left, and there was a heavy, oppressive silence that settled over the team. BP turned to look at everyone with a smile on their face, only for it to fall when they saw the stunned, blank looks their teammates wore.

"What's wrong?"

Bless 'em, they sounded so confused, but Soap really had no way to express just what he or any of the others were feeling in this moment.

As BP's face fell further, Price surged forward and scooped their medic and resident pack rat into a hug. They let out a small eep! at the sudden constricting pressure around their ribs. It was difficult to hug with tac vests on, but Price was determined.

"C-Captain? Are you alright?"

"Never change, soldier," Price said gruffly, and Soap could hear the disbelieving grin in his CO's voice. "Never fuckin' change."

[captain-mj]

HII, first of all I just wanna say that I love your fics, and then could please post something about wolfshifter au?👉👈🥺🥺 It's my favorite one, I love it

CW for... a lot man honestly. Sexual abuse. References to reproductive rights/the taking away of reproductive rights

Previous parts

Ghost fell asleep with his head in Soap’s lap. The sun was still shining so bright on both of them and the smell of the honeysuckle lingered on their hands. 

“Hey Johnny.”

Well, Soap thought he was asleep. His eyes stayed closed. 

“Yeah, Simon?”

“Why are you so nice to me?”

Soap pet his hair gently, mulling over the words. He could answer that this was his job and while that was definitely true, Simon also definitely got special treatment from him. Not once in the years he’d be working in this job had he ever, ever taken someone home. 

“I don’t know. Guess I just think you deserve it.”

“Sappy.” Ghost opened his eyes. Chocolate brown eyes stared at him. “You’re so sappy. All the time.” 

Soap frowned. “I am not!”

“Kinda are.” Ghost sat up and leaned into him. “That’s okay though. I like it about you. How… soft and squishy your insides are.” He smiled at him. 

Soap flushed. “You’re weirdly romantic for someone who hasn’t talked for a while.”

Ghost looked around to check to see if anyone else was nearby. “They always had romance movies playing at one of the places. Shitty hallmark level ones. All in Spanish, but I picked up things.” He smiled, tilting his head. 

Soap wanted to kiss him. Instead, he followed behind him. 

Ghost walked funny. A tiny bit lopsided. Soap wondered if he had a limp or something that he had been hiding or if that was just his natural gait. He grabbed on to Ghost’s arm and they walked in tune. 

After the park, Ghost seemed a little brighter. He sat up in the car and looked out the window, showing interest in the things that passed by. 

Soap thought he was gorgeous. Regardless, they could not stay out all day. He brought Ghost home and made him more food. 

“So… you mentioned some things that I’m curious about.” He kept his tone light, not wanting to send Ghost on the defensive. 

Ghost looked up, tilting his head. “Yes?”

“You mentioned that when you were being rewarded, you got more control, right?”

“Yes.”

“And when you were being punished, you got less control?” 

Ghost frowned. He didn’t get why Soap was reiterating this so much. Soap was smart, Ghost had no doubt he grasped the concept just fine, so he didn’t get why he seemed so baffled. “Yes. They’d tie me up and let women use me. Sometimes I wonder if I have any kids.”

“Kids?” Soap stared at him, eyes wide. 

Ghost shrugged. “Makes sense. Take two wolves and shove them together. Get better fighters.” It was logical. 

Soap went to the bathroom and retched. Ghost followed and rubbed his back gently, not understanding such an extreme reaction. He didn’t understand why Soap let out a sob. Why he cradled his face so gentle and started to promise it wouldn’t happen again. 

“I’m never ever going to let anyone do anything like that again. I promise. I’m going to keep you safe.” 

Ghost frowned and pulled Soap closer. “You don’t have to keep me safe. I’m your guard do-”

Soap kissed him softly and pulled him in closer. Cradled his face and dotted kisses all over his face once he had gotten his fill of Ghost’s lips. “No. You’re not. Not anymore. You’re not anyone’s guard dog. Not anyone’s dog at all.” He was just so upset. 

Ghost picked him up and carried him easily. He made Soap drink some water and decided he didn’t need the reward he was promised. Johnny was a good enough reward. 

“You’re a person. A very good person.” Soap pressed into him. 

“Johnny.” Ghost started, very gently. “Is it bad, if I don’t feel like a person?”

“Not at all. We’ll get there.”

“What if I never feel like a person? What if I always feel like an animal? What if I can’t be what you’re expecting?”

Soap paused, having to actually think about that. It was a fair question. If he denied it was a possibility, it could be stressful. And regardless of what recovery would look like for Ghost, he needed reassurance now. 

“I’ll still care for you regardless.”

“You own me then. That makes sense. Why isn’t that… good enough?”

Soap tried to think of how to impress upon Ghost that wasn’t… right. It wasn’t okay. “Okay. Remember when you said you own me and I own you?”

Ghost nodded.

“See, we’re… partners. It’s now ownership, just, I care about you and you care about me.” 

Something about that bothered him. “But… I want to own you. I don’t want anyone else to.” 

Soap blushed brightly. “What exactly do you want no one else to do?”

“Touch you. I don’t want to share anymore. I want you to be mine.” 

“Well, then we can arrange that. It’s part of being partners.” 

That seemed to satisfy something in Ghost. “Fine. If you prefer we act as partners instead, we can. But I really don’t think you should trust me as easily. I’m violent. Bad. Feral.”

Soap shook his head. “One day, I’ll get those nasty thoughts out of your head. Until then, just know I do trust you though. And that we should eat.” 

Ghost quickly went to check on the food, happy to see that before Soap ran off to the bathroom, he had turned it off. He watched Soap, making sure he ate first and then he dragged him to bed and let himself be cuddled to sleep. 

Soap though did not sleep. As soon as he was convinced Ghost wouldn’t snap back awake, he went to the balcony and called Price, lighting a cigarette. He spilled everything and even over the phone, he could feel Price’s distaste. 

“How did you find this out?”

“He’s shockingly open about it. I don’t think he quite gets how awful all of it is. He’s so secretive about certain things but with this, he’s an open book. Is there a way to find out if…”

“There were a couple of children according to their records, but obviously no fathers were put down. I’ll check into it. Did he give you anything we can use?”

Soap sighed. “No. Nothing we can use. I’m sorry, I’m just trying to treat him with kid gloves.”

“It’s understandable, Johnny. Take care of yourself here. He hasn’t done anything, has he?”

Soap felt the wound on his shoulder throb. “No. He hasn’t done anything.”

[sgt-scottymoreau]

Lesson of life

Summary: Everyone has their way to learn what Death is. What are the implication of this stage in life that can come at any moment without a warning. But not everyone learn it at the same stage og their life, some ealier than others. More importantly, not everyone handle it the same..

Warning: Mention/Talk of death, description of panic attack

Words: 2.1k // AO3 // Masterlist

A/N: Ok back to the regular schedule, if there's even one lol Anyway I have a few fics to post either from the main serie or the AU, it just recently I didn't had much the heart to post them. Or even write anything... I have a few ideas why and I really hope it will get better. Anyway, enjoy some angsty fic <3 (Likes are appreciated but reblogs are loved!)

"How do you do it?" Gaz asked.

"Do what?" Scotty raised an eyebrow. They were all relaxing in the common room waiting for Price to finish his debriefing before going out for a drink. 

"Be so." He gestured his hand in all directions. "So you. So calm around death? I know with our work we need nerves of steel, but never heard you complain about anything."

"Yeah." Soap chimed in. "We all have our nightmares, you don't have any?"

She weakly smiled. "I do have mine. I just learn to cope with them. Truth is, I learned at a young age what death really meant." 

Scotty saw Soap and Gaz on the edge of their seats, ready for a little story. Ghost didn't show much interest, but his head had turned in her direction as well. She knew his scars by now, he did not know hers. Scotty let out a sigh. "Ok, so the day I learned about the army and death, the day I hit a reality check I was around 7-8…"

*****

Like every time before, Suzanne would bring her girls to the base when their father would be back from his deployment. As usual, he would always be happy to see them, despite the tiredness, the arching muscles, the hard work, it always paid off to see his two girls with a smile. He would have his arms wide open ready to receive the blowing hugs from them. But also be ready to answer Camille's billion questions about what happened and what did he do. Henri loved her innocence about all he had to go through and hoped to never break her ideas. Even if deep down he knew he should be doing so since she started to show a lot of interest in military life. To Suzanne's despair. 

Of course, Henri was never alone on his way back. More than a decade ago he enlisted with his best friend, Didier. 

The two men had gone through almost all their life together. As far as they could remember they have been there for each other since forever. Didier was a good friend of the family and someone Henri considered like a brother. Both men had no siblings and so found family in each other. Even in the army, they were placed together in the same unit, same mission and everything. It was to say they were a good team. To the girls he was known as Uncle Didier. Although he had a wife, he didn't have kids, yet. In the meantime he considered Camille and Gabrielle like his own. Just like Henri he would often get the warm welcome of Camille running toward him and jumping in his arms. This was the routine.

Till it wasn't. Until one day, it all changed. The four girls were waiting for their husband/father to show up in the flood of officers coming back. Camille was more restless than usual. It has been a while since her father and uncle left for so long and she was impatient to hear their story. Gabrielle was also excited, but kept a calmer state than her sister on the outside. Suzanne and Didier's wife were chatting, eyes looking through the crowd for them. The crowd eventually thinned and throughout the happy face, Suzanne saw it. A mile away, she could tell something was wrong with her husband. Normally, he did have his head up and was impatiently searching for his little girls. But today, his head remained down, his gaze avoided her when he caught Suzanne's eyes. Yet the worse was to come. Because Didier wasn't by his side. At first, the women thought it's because he was held behind by some superior or forgot something, and was late. But the look on Henri's face… 

"Gabrielle, Camille, stay here please." Suzanne told her kids with a tone they never heard before. The two girls looked at each other with confusion. Suzanne and Didier's wife ran to him. In the distance, Camille watched silently as the three adults spoke. She wanted to step in, but Gabrielle stopped her, reminding what their mother said. Camille frowned, not pleased that she couldn't see her father. Then she heard it. A scream, a wail filled with so much pain, it scared her. In the distance she saw Didier's wife holding onto her father, crying, shaking, begging. Her mother grabbed her by the shoulder as if she tried to calm her down, but the woman only fell on her knees. Camille pushed her sister's arm away and ran to her dad, who had seen her. Henri had a little idea of what she would ask and this wasn't the question the mourning woman needed to hear. He quickly crossed the distance between them to make sure his daughter wouldn’t be too close. 

"Dad! Where's Uncle Didier?" Camille asked once he had scooped her in his arm. Henri didn't have his usual smile, he looked different which made her worry. 

Henri didn't know how to bring this to her. She knew what death was, but not like this. She had been too young when her great-grandmother died to remember anything. Since then the family didn't had much loss. This would be the first she would be aware of it. He had to be careful of his words, but he also didn't want to shield her to the reality of things. "Uncle Didier…." His throat tightened. 

"Why Auntie Thérèse is crying?" Henri bit his lips feeling the tears coming up again. He grabbed her and hugged her tightly. He stroked her hair, his shoulders shaking under the silent cry. "Dad?" 

"I'm sorry, Tulip. Uncle Didier is not coming home."

"When he is coming back?" The innocence of children. Oh, he wished to have this again. 

*****

"When we got home, we had a long discussion about why he would never come back home." Scotty said, fidgeting with her fingers. "He explained what happened, not in detail, but vaguely what caused his death."

"Must have been hard." Gaz sympathized. "Losing anyone on the field is always a blow." They all agreed to this. 

"How did this affect you?" Ghost asked. He had been very silent but attentive the whole time. 

"I realized that war wasn't the fantasy idea I made up in my mind from my dad's story and the movies. We all knew this had been rough for my dad, but no one, not even myself realized how much it changed me." 

*****

She was on the playground, sitting on the bench, mindlessly dandling her legs. It had been a week since her dad came back and he had changed. Camille had listened to the grown up conversation in secret, when she was incapable of sleep. She heard all of her dad's sorrow. How her mother tried to support him. Everything resonated in her mind like a strange unharmonized symphony. As the days went by without seeing her dear uncle, reality just kept hitting her in the face all the time. Two kids came up to her, taking her out of her mind. "Cam, wanna play war with us?" 

"Yeah, okay." She didn't sound too sure, but it was usually her favorite game. Having someone in the military other kids looked at her for some stories and game ideas. Even if sometimes, Camille would tell them that it didn't work that way normally and it should be like this. In the end, they always had fun. 

And she did at first. The girl had to warm up a little to the game, but eventually got more into it. Till one of the kids pretended to die. In a way that resonated close to how her uncle did. All of a sudden, Cam froze. The stick she held as her 'gun' dropped in the ground. The dead kid was still laughing while on the ground, talking with the others. Her mind couldn't handle this. The kid got up, using his time as a dead soldier, to go grab a snack, when she grabbed him by the wrist. "No it doesn't work like that!" Her voice cracked under the pressure. 

"What are you talking about?" The boy frowned. 

"When you are dead you don't get up! It's not like that!" Her breathing grew faster, her eyes watered, her grip was almost painful on his wrist. "You don't come back home!" The last sentence came out in an almost cry. Every kid around stopped what they were doing and a nearby teacher was alerted by the noise. Camille let go of the boy and crouched on the ground as the tears flowed down, her breath was erratic. Her head felt so light, she couldn't feel her body. All she could do was cry and scream about not coming back home because that's death. Death means you don't exist, you are gone. The teacher called for help while he tried to focus on Camille who seemed to ignore him completely. Another teacher brought the other kids away. 

Camille eventually calmed down after ten minutes of intense emotions. She was resting in the infirmary, feeling so drained. The nurse was watching over her when her parents finally arrived. Suzanne was slightly panicked, she grabbed her daughter in her arms. "Are you okay, Tulip?" 

The little girl felt too exhausted to talk, so she nodded. Henri looked at his kid, guilt took him by the guts. Gabrielle was older and had been able to process some of the situation better because she had some memories of death in the family. But Camille was still young. This was a huge reality check. He took a seat on the small couch she was resting on. She looked at her father with glassy eyes. Suzanne understood that for now it was best to leave them two alone. The nurse followed the mother outside. Camille buried her face in her dad's chest. "I don't want you to die dad." She weakly let out. 

"Don't worry, I'll always come back." He hushed her with a kiss on the head. "Camille, listen. I want you to talk to me when you feel sad or afraid ok? Never be ashamed to come ask for help. Your mom and I will always be there and if we can't, we will find someone who can." 

"How do you do it? How can you be so calm when people die?"

Henri smiled weakly. "I'm maybe calm, but I'm still hurt. This is my job, we all know the risk. Didier knew them as well, but we love our job. We want to protect our country and save people. But when we lose a friend, it's always hard. That's the reality of things."

Camille hugged her father thigher. "I still don't want to lose you." Tears flowed back again, but this time she was just sad. No panic. 

He smiled. Henri could either keep going in circles with the reality of life or he could try to throw some humor to get her to think of something else right now. "I'll be with you till I'm so old and crazy, you will want to kick my ass because I ate all your favorite cookies!"

She stopped crying with a gasp. "No! You can't do that!"

"Oh I can and I will! No more cookies for you!" He tickled her. She laughed and told him to stop. 

*****

"After that I went to therapy a couple of times till they were able to work out with me all that happened. Eventually, I accepted this just like my dad and…. Here I am." She finished her story. 

"That's hell of a tale." Soap said. He gave her a pat on the shoulder. They all sympathized with her. Even Price who joined mid story gave her a calm smile. But life was still going and for now it was time to get some relaxing time at the pub. Gaz, Soap and Price left first. Scotty was about to get up and follow when Ghost stopped her. He grabbed her wrist and forced her to turn around to face him. 

"Do you still think about this often?" He asked calmly. His hand reached for her face and he brushed her cheek. She melted under his touch. 

"Not too much. I sometimes think about him and how he would be proud of who I became. He was a nice uncle. He would have liked you."

Ghost pulled her into his arms and she gladly accepted the hug. Even after all these years and the therapy, talking about this still leaves her with a lot of emotions. "Thanks for sharing your scars." He whispered. 

"About time I shared them with you. Maybe I should tell you about others." 

"You don't have to, love."

[babytarttdoodoo]

your writing is so so lovely! i’ve been really enjoying the mini fic prompts, and if you’re still taking prompts i was wondering if you could do roy being protective and worried about jamie, romantic or platonic is up to you. maybe split between the man city hug scene, and when jamie’s hurt in the mom city episode? considering he’s physically and emotionally hurt in both of those eps, i’d love to see your take on it! would also love to read more from you if you’ve got an ao3 account :)

have a wonderful day <3

Thank you! And sorry you’ve been waiting so long.

Not sure if this is what you were looking for but it’s the kind of character introspection I love to get my teeth into. I’ve tried to intersperse the two scenes as parallels of each other and I hope it’s not too confusing!

Song rec: Soap (this is becoming my anthem for Roy & Jamie, by the way)

—

It had already been an awful, shitty day. It had been the kind of match that could make a player want to walk away from the pitch forever.

Roy could see it in the slump of the team’s shoulders. Could feel the heavy, depressive weight in the air that had no one speaking above a murmur, every movement slow and exhausted.

Even Ted looked knocked for six.

Defeats like this were as much a part of the game as anything else. Roy had been through more than a few in his time. (He still held a grudge against Charlton Athletic. What a fucking mess that had been.)

He didn’t think he’d ever had a crowd bay so viciously for his blood as the City fans had for Tartt’s, though.

***

Jamie was barely out of the tunnel before the boos started. Roy had expected it, knew Jamie definitely had, but for fuck’s sake. They could at least give him a chance to be a prick before punishing him for it.

He saw the way Jamie looked around, the lines of his shoulders and back tensed to a degree that would completely mess up his pre-match stretches if he wasn’t careful.

Roy couldn’t find it in himself to blame him, though. He knew exactly what (who) Jamie was scanning the crowd for.

***

It had been something of a relief, actually, when that security guy said Jamie’s father was there to see him. It saved Roy from doing something mortifying like going over there to try and comfort him himself.

Bad days just happened sometimes. The real kick in the fucking teeth was when someone came along to make them worse.

The moment the old bastard opened his mouth, Roy knew it was going to go badly. Just the sight of him - unkempt and swaggering with a Manchester City scarf in pride of place - put him on edge. Who came to see their kid play at fucking Wembley and cheered for the other team?

All misgivings at the initial intrusion were quickly fortified by his sneering and jeering, insults thrown about with laughter that painted a very uncomfortable, distorted echo of similar locker rooms just a year ago, a younger Tartt being the dismissive, disruptive voice in the room.

***

He just couldn’t catch a fucking break, could he?

That block was spectacular, something only a handful of the lads on the pitch could even attempt, never mind pull off so successfully.

Jamie had kept Richmond in the game, backed up Zoreaux and his team in a way no one else would have thought to do. But fuck everything if it came at the cost of putting himself out of commission.

When he didn’t get up right away, Roy felt ice in his veins. When he crumpled after just a few steps, it turned to lead.

***

The whole thing made Roy’s blood boil.

He was very familiar with this kind of fan. The ones who rode the high of their team’s victories as if they’d put the ball in the net themselves and took any opposition as the most deep and personal of slights. Vindictive in the most pedestrian way.

Jamie’s reaction, though, was something entirely unfamiliar.

Where from anyone else, from even Roy himself, Jamie had no problem meeting disdain head on, any bravado or assertive attitude had fled his frame completely under the onslaught of his father. His eyes were staring off, unfocused, past the older man’s shoulder. He was holding himself like a tightly coiled spring, not quite hunched over but projecting the effort it took to stand tall.

It wasn’t as surprising as Roy would have liked when Tartt Sr’s bile focused in solely on his son and Jamie seemed to shrink before their eyes.

His defiance was quiet but Roy could see the cost it took nonetheless.

***

Roy couldn’t hold back a chuckle as Jamie goaded the crowd, striding back into the game with all the purpose and bravado that had been missing from his game for weeks.

Whatever Ted said, whatever the medics did, something had clearly done the trick.

The team rallied in kind, their excitement palpable when Jamie jogged back into position, still encouraging the City fans to do their worst with a grin in place. They may as well have been chanting his name and his teammates knew exactly how to react.

As soon as Isaac lobbed the ball towards him, it was all over.

***

Everyone else was frozen in an oppressive spell of inaction right up until that piece of shit laid a hand on his son.

Roy twitched in place, ready to intervene, and was immensely proud to see half of the team do the same, the closest to Jamie seeming ready to jump to their feet.

Turned out they didn’t have to.

Jamie landed a solid fucking punch that sent his old man sprawling. The surge of petty satisfaction in Roy’s chest only lasted until he registered the mocking laughter from the floor and all the colour that had leached from Jamie’s face.

He was afraid. Afraid of whatever his dad was about to do.

Thank god Beard had a handle on the situation, hauling that fucker up and out before he could make good on any of the thinly-veiled threats he was hollering at his son.

His son who was still frozen with that horrible, stricken expression of fear.

***

Jamie was flying.

Roy would never get tired of watching this. A player he’d helped mold, doing what he was built to do and making it look like fucking magic.

No one could touch him. His ankle didn’t matter. Bloody hell, gravity didn’t seem to matter. Jamie ate up the length of the pitch with a single-minded focus on the ball at his feet.

There was no doubt in Roy’s mind about where it was headed. He didn’t even need to watch it happen - but he was so glad that he did.

What a fucking goal.

***

It wasn’t a conscious decision to cross the floor and pull Jamie into his arms. Roy just couldn’t stomach that look on his face anymore.

He held Jamie tight against him, hoping against hope that this wasn’t making anything worse but at a complete loss for anything else to say or do.

And like a dam breaking, after long, tense seconds, Jamie shuddered and hugged back just as tight. The shaking didn’t stop and the small, choked off sobs made something ache deep down in Roy’s chest.

But he kept on holding him together.

Words wouldn’t come, and maybe they didn’t need to.

***

“Brilliant, Jamie. That was fucking beautiful.”

Roy moved in to hug him on his way off the pitch, so full of pride and relief he thought he might burst. He saw the same elation reflected back at him in Jamie’s face, eyes still wet with the emotion of a homecoming he truly deserved.

“Thanks, man.” His voice shook but his smile was genuine and wide.

[goddessmelon]

prologue to potential law x reader fic????

see on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49072756/chapters/123805720

Lawrence Oleander x Fem reader 

CW: stalking 

You weren't sure where you saw the vision first: a pair of icy blue eyes and a stare that seemed to undress your very soul. It must have been a dream; lately, they've been too vivid for your comfort. It was hard to remember... no, not to remember, but rather to understand or even simply describe what happened beneath your eyelids each very late night. Something changed one day, and you didn't know what, but you've been feeling more on edge than ever before. It always felt like someone was watching you, especially when you were alone. 

It was the same tonight, as it was many other nights in the past few weeks. You were attempting to work on whatever needed to be done, maybe make a dent in the things that just kept seeming to pile up over the days. Going to work and then coming home to try to tackle even more tasks became somewhat normal over the years, albeit not ideal, but at least you were able to carve out some time for yourself. Your apartment was a bit unkempt at best, cycling between an objective mess and a little cluttered here and there when you were able to get yourself to clean up. The lonely apartment was your prison, and yet you were always happy to scramble for your keys at the end of the day to pass through the door separating the world from yourself. Now, as you sit down at your desk, you find yourself once again lost in a messy headspace that's been plaguing your mind since whatever had caused your internal struggles as of late. You can still feel the cold stare, and the feeling becoming more welcome by the day. It was an almost comforting feeling now, this imagined watchful gaze, your guardian angel. It watches you as you turn your attention to a small pot of peonies, admiring the gentle way you stroke their torn petals, and the way you carefully use your own drinking water at the desk to nourish it. 

You sigh as you run your finger down one of the stems and over healthy green leaves of the plant. It’s much better looking now than when you bought it, but you were not entirely sure how that even happened. Maybe it was the summer’s sunlight that provided the means for it to flourish again. You wonder if it would help you out, too, but you didn’t get out much; you liked to be alone, which is why you’ve been feeling that much more unsettled by an odd sense of company. You peer outside of your window, inspecting the darkness between the cracks of the blinds. There is nothing but the thick ebony night air to return your gaze… at least that you can see. The night is quiet and the silence is biting. With another hard stare at the covered window, you let out a sigh and try to get back to whatever you were doing before.

You looked like someone who didn’t think much of yourself, but perhaps thought a lot of others. It was something he could relate to immensely. He didn’t know why you captured his interest so heavily, but now that it was there, he couldn’t seem to get rid of it. He liked the way you looked so thoughtfully at your surroundings, and he loved watching your tired face lit up by a computer screen or a desk light at late hours, the look on your face when you finished something, the little quirks of yours that you only did in the privacy of your home... He sometimes watched you scramble things together in the kitchen after a long day, wishing he could get a taste of whatever you graced with your touch. He couldn’t tell if following you home that day was the best or worst decision he’s made in a while. 

The day he met you was a moment he continued to repeat in his head for hours. You and he had both been at the nearest grocery store. He was only there to restock on essentials he had been putting off restocking for too long. Hand soap, paper towels, some shitty 3-in-1 shower gel, and more fertilizer while he was there anyway. It was a Friday evening, and he didn’t have work that night, so he waited until the store was 15-minutes-till-close before scurrying around to find what he needed. He preferred that the store was relatively empty, and that those who were still there were in too much of a hurry to find some last minute items to notice him. The lights in the back of the store being turned off also was a welcome change. When he had gotten his toiletries, he made his way to the plant area of the store, which was nearly completely dark when he got there. He was scouting out his usual product but stopped when he noticed that he wasn’t alone in the damp greenhouse. A woman, he noticed, using the light of her phone screen to better see the plants she was hovering over. You were silent, running your hands over the flowers with a trace of a smile over your face. He watched carefully, at first only waiting for you to leave so he didn’t have to squeeze past you, but very quickly transfixed by the way you treated the plants. You didn’t look like you had any idea what you were looking for, and he wondered if you had ever even been in this part of the store before. You handled them so gently, like they would crumble beneath your fingers, but continued to go through every single one at that specific table before picking up a pot of slightly withered peonies. The flowers were a beautiful deep velvet color, but looked as if pests had gotten to them more than the others. He gawked as you gingerly added the pot to your cart and began to leave. He immediately stepped out of the way before you could pass by him, but he swore he noticed your eyes meet his for a moment. He turned away and pretended to look busy at the nearest shelf, but the moment your back was turned as you passed to exit the store, he looked towards your back and watched silently until he lost sight of you turning around a corner. 

The sound of the store loudspeaker caused him to physically jump. “Attention customers, we will now be closing in 5 minutes. No check-out lanes will be open after midnight. Thank you for shopping with us!”

He threw a random bag of fertilizer into his cart and hurried to check out.