#soap mactavish x gen! reader

[tomurderornottomurder]

extinguish; soap/johnny mactavish

pair. johnny "soap" mactavish x gn!reader

summ. a recollection of your yearning for johnny. meeting him, becoming friends, taking a bullet for him.

gen. angst

tw. suicidal ideation/thoughts, cod typical violence/themes, one sided crush, word vomit

wc. 3.5k+

note. furiosophie's fanart with the longing that's killing me quote inspired this. shoutout to ghoap for making me want to rip my skin off /pos 

Add a log to the fire of what you call want. You do it as you look over at him. It burns in your chest and he is not looking at you. He looks at you sometimes but not now. Johnny is looking over at Simon who is in turn looking back at him. You, like an animal in a cage on the other side of the room, can only watch. You're wrapping your hands up, getting ready to use your fists against the bag but you keep looking over. You're torturing yourself. You didn't know it at first; that this would not end up good for you. You just saw and you wanted and you followed him until he was gone and you were up against a brick wall with a broken nose from your blind devotion. It used to be better; more bearable. At least you thought it did.

Anyone who set their eyes on Johnny could have easily fallen in love. A large man with an even bigger smile and bright eyes to match and that accent that warms your bones. You can't even understand his words sometimes but it doesn't matter, you still want to hear them, all of them. Anything he has to say to you, you want to hear it again and again. You, new and fresh, are greeted graciously and heartily by him. You two get along like a building on fire. It doesn't take long for a friendship to form. It takes less as you grow closer. It's easy. It's full of love. You're happy. He's smiling. Johnny touches you a lot. It's his nature. He'll bring you into a hug, fistbump you, rest a hand on your shoulder, rest his chin and arms on your shoulder, kick your feet under the table and you'll kick back, take your hand to pull you up after a spar, brush you off his hands dusting ghosting everywhere, ruffle your hair, drag you off by your vest or your arm, tackle you only having protected you of course, hold you in his arms under heavy gunfire, pat your back after a mission well done, lean over and whisper tell you something stupid to make you laugh, pull you in by your gunbelt a quick means to get your attention, ghost his fingers over a particularly bad cut make sure it's okay you're okay, hold pressure onto a bullet wound try to stop the blood from flowing, hold and pat your face when the blood loss is too much, and he'll brush your hair out of your face when you wake up in a bed the next morning wrapped up and connected to machines in a blaring-white room that hurts your eyes until they settle upon him the dark contrast you need. But you're getting ahead of yourself now.

Johnny cares. He cares about you, his team, his mission. He's sweet and maybe naive sometimes, he's not dumb or innocent by any means. He just doesn't know what he does. What he does to someone like you. An easy persuasion; he's an easy sell. He's easy to look at, get along with. There's not exactly anything special he does for you, he's just this way to everyone. He likes to be loved; he likes to love. It's easy for him. It's not easy for you.

On certain days, you find that your chest hurts real bad like it's getting squeezed and swallowed whole by the vest you're wearing but taking it off doesn't ease the pain. What is this? You're not yet able to pinpoint the source of the pain. All you know is that it aches. You try to be cautious and observant. Through the next day, you notice a distinct lack of it until you see him. Your eyes land on Johnny and that squeezing, suffocating feeling comes back. It clicks. 

You don't know why you've always been prone to love so hard that it hurts but it makes it easy to know at least for yourself. You know this is ridiculous. You've known him maybe two months. You don't love him. You tell yourself this. And you don't love him. 

There are more important things than love when you're getting shot at. What is wrong with you that you have to look at him not to make sure he's okay but just to see him? You're an idiot and he tells you that in frustration when you nearly get grazed by a bullet just above your head. You're lucky he was there but if he wasn't the problem would have never arisen. You don't tell him this. He's your friend. He's your teammate. He's not your boyfriend. He's not your husband. He's not your lover. You are something to him more than nothing but not nearly enough. 

You get back to base with him nearly stuck to your side. You know he's angry and at you. You know that this was stupid. You just had to focus and you couldn't even do that. You get back to somewhere private, your room his room, you can't remember. He's scolding you like you're a child. He's not yelling outright but he's loud. You would adore this attention if it was for anything else. This one on one. His eyes on you, burning through you with something you can't decipher. How close he is to you. How he cares about you and if you'd die. 

A long moment and then, you tell him you were distracted. Not by what, you can't. You were distracted, that's all. It's simple. He seems to grow more infuriated by these words. Distracted? He spits venomously, his head tilting as if to understand you better. You could have died. You know that. Johnny takes you by your shoulders now. He talks and he tells you things, he pleads with you and he tries to understand. It's hard to know what to say when he doesn't have all the information. You just stand there like a ragdoll as he holds onto you and your shoulders and he shakes you a bit, not intentionally or maliciously just out of his own pure desperation to understand you in this moment, to know what the hell is going on. Why did you almost get shot in the head from a distraction? What could have possibly distracted you that much?

You won't give him any more information and maybe he understands. He sighs loudly, his grip on your shoulders faltering before he pulls away altogether. He brings you into a hug, grabbing your head and holding it in a way. You scared me. He says. I scared myself. You don't say. Sometimes you think back and you wish you could have taken that bullet. It would have been easier than all of this. All of what is to come. But still, this memory is fond and you hold on to it for dear life. How he held you like you were his own. How he cared if you died. 

Later that same night, when you're undressing to bandage an old but still-there wound, you see something. You look over to make sure you're not making this up. On your shoulder his fingers. Bruises starting to form on both your shoulders because he had held you so tight. You brush your fingers over them. Your breath hitches. It's like he's still there. He's holding you in his absence. He loves you in a way. His fingers are still on you. You can feel them. You close your eyes and you can see him in front of you. He's looking you in the eye, he's holding your shoulders, he's digging into your flesh in a comforting way. He loves you somehow. 

You don't ever mention it. You keep this one thing for yourself. You wanna savor it like a tongue in your mouth. 

You tried to let this go, let it wash away. The almost bullet tells you it won't. It takes time and maybe it's a month, you can't remember, you decide. You decide you can tell him. You decide to try. You can't remember if it's a month or a week or what it was. You only remember deciding.

Something becomes real when you see it. And you watch your chance at whatever this is diminish right in front of your eyes in real-time when Johnny walks over to Simon, his heavy hand resting on the larger man's shoulder. Not squeezing as he had yours. Resting. This is an important difference. It's not only that, no. But that does make you hesitate. This isn't a good time you think to yourself. Try again later.

Later. His eyes on his face; you could never do that. Simon is looking at Johnny like he's the light of the world and you know this to be true. Johnny looks back at Simon like he is another light of the world, possibly brighter. Your stomach churns. You feel sick. The urge to throw up churns in your belly and burns up your throat. It almost spills past your lips. Nothing spills but a tear maybe more than one past your eyes. What is this? WHY ARE YOU CRYING? 

You do more than squeeze, digging your nails into the flesh of your shoulder so that by some miracle you can feel Johnny's long distant fingers on your skin. It doesn't work. You watch the two for a little longer. Why are you torturing yourself? Is that your voice or Johnny's? 

John's got blood on his face, Simon sees this. Simon's got blood on his mask and you've got blood in your heart. This is the straw that breaks the camel's back.

Why can't he look at you like that?

Why can't he look at you like that?

Why can't he look at you like that?

Your ears are ringing when you leave with the two men. Why can't he look at you like that? You make no attempt to stray away from Simon or draw close to Johnny. Why can't he look at you like that? You sit in the carrier miserably. Why can't he look at you like that? Your eyes are on the floor. You try not to make a big deal out of it. You can't.

Now, you know why. 

Even later. It's late at night. It's dark, pitch black, there are no stars. You're outside on the ground. You're not crying yet just thinking. You know it's a bad idea. You think of the times you've seen them together. One night, Johnny comes out of the Lieutenant's room, everyone else laughing at the sight, not you. You manage a dry smile. That's it. There isn't even jealousy; just loss. The two sparring across from you while you spar with Gaz. Your eyes focused on something else, your ears unable to hear anything but the soft laughs, grunts, groans, and soon victorious noises coming from the Scotsman. Simon's quiet while Johnny makes all the noise. Gaz pins you to the mat and you don't even realize. Their conversations over comms make your ears bleed. Not because you want to be Simon, you want to be you and loved. You don't wish to take them away from each other, you just ache as you watch. You want to be you and seen.

There's something people should know about loving. That jealousy is not the end all be all. That you can let your love be loved. That destruction isn't necessary. You can suffer through it. You can let them not know, never know how much you love them because it's not necessary to tell them. You don't need to hurt them with the weight of knowing. That you have stared at them and seen them in worse ways and that you have chosen to continue and maybe it's not even a choice. It's an endless devotion you can't pull yourself away from. Because you could do whatever they asked and you would do whatever they want and you will be okay with it because they don't need to love you for you to love them. There is nothing saying that this must be mutual.

To know them is enough.

There are more moments. You see things all the time. You just push down the ache and continue on. You try not to watch them but sometimes you imagine yourself with him. In Simon's place maybe just for this fantasy so you can feel better about yourself. So in some place in the universe, he loves you. Even if it's fake, it feels good. It doesn't have to be real, it just has to feel good.

A sudden yet gradual distance is created between you and John. One day, he seems to notice it. He tries to touch you and without thinking, you move away. As if his hand were going to poison you, you avoid it like the plague. The disappointed look on his face does not escape you. John looks at you for a moment and even then, he doesn't look at you like he looks at him. You would laugh if you could manage it. Then he takes a seat next to you. He touches you again but this time you don't move. His hand is on your knee. Everything alright? He asks. It sounds lighthearted almost but it's serious, warm, worried, concerned. He's looking at you softly, his eyes are soft, his expression soft. He's waiting for you. 

You can't remember what happens next. All you know is that he doesn't know the truth. And that's fine. He shouldn't have to.

You make no effort to become closer. You do nothing. Ebbing and flowing how it may, you let it be.

Though you have given up in a sense, your heart still feels. It kills you really. It's like it wants to squeeze out its last drop of blood for him. It's like you'd slit your wrists for him and he wouldn't even have to ask. You'd already know to do it. 

You swear you didn't do this on purpose. You didn't mean it really. It just happened. Your body moved before your mind could process what was about to happen. You took a bullet for him because of course, you did. There was no thought behind it really. It just happened. You did not mean to save his life though you have always wanted to. This, and I stress, this was pure coincidence. An accident. Sure, you wanted to die for love but you didn't even think about this.

As soon as the shot rings out and you can feel the noise reverberating in your ears, you crumple to the ground. In front of him. This is not a nothing-shot. This is everything. This is internal bleeding and artery collapse. This is avoiding death by a miracle. This is not nothing.

You can barely feel his arms as they wrap around you, holding you like you're about to die. You don't even care anymore. You're cold and he's warm but you can't even feel it. It doesn't feel good to be held like this. You don't want to be held like this. You don't care if you die but it doesn't feel good to be dying. Not in his arms. You cannot die in his arms. This isn't what you want. 

John cradles you like a baby. He's holding you. You should be in heaven now but you can't even feel it. There is nothing worse than what you want. He's pulled you up onto himself now. Your head is propped up against his stomach. Your body is laid over his legs. He's holding your head the same way he did so, so long ago. You smile at that. You feel tears. You miss being held like you aren't about to die. You don't cry. You just close your eyes. You can feel his hands all over you. You wanted something like this, you remember, but this isn't it. This isn't what you wanted. This is some perversion of a thing you've never thought about. You did not want to die in his arms. 

He's holding you and holding you and you're starting to drift off somewhere else. He touches your face, tries to bring you back to himself. It works a few times. But like any old worn thing, it runs out of use. So, he holds you and continues to hold you. He thinks you might be dead but only for a fleeting millisecond. He can't think about that right now. You're not dead. You're in his arms, safe. You're with him. You're okay. You're in his arms so you're fine. He has you. He's holding onto you. You will be fine. He just has to get you out of here. He watches your eyes close for the last time and guilt shoots up his spine like a bullet. He'll get you out of here. He knows that.

You don't die. At least that one wish is granted to you. You don't die in his arms. Later you'd be grateful but now as you wake in a bright, white room you're only confused. You squint, trying not to take in all the light as it pierces your eyes. You hear something at your side, someone. Before you can turn to see, Johnny is on you like a hound. He's right up close and personal. Not too far away from your face. He takes up your whole view. You're glad for it. He's easy on the eyes. He's not harsh like this room around you. You feel him take your hand that you can't seem to move. Is it the drugs or the injury?

You could have died. Oh, doesn't that sound familiar? Johnny's not angry this time. He looks sad. What did you do to him? How could you do this to him? What's wrong with you? Guilt flows through your fingers like a shock of electricity. You still can't move your hands. 

I know. You croak. 

Why? He asks.

You don't know. You hadn't even thought about it. You just moved and you were in the right place. Johnny was safe. That's all that mattered really. What's the problem if you take the bullet for him? You weren't dead. You were far from dead. You were looking at him. He was looking at you. Isn't that all you could ask for? 

Then like bricks falling from the heavens, crashing against your ribs, and puncturing your lungs, you let it out. A sharp inhale before the sobs of a young man broken. Shaky breaths, tears, painful cries, a trembling body, shallow inhales, sputtering, lamented sobs all at once in succession. And because Johnny loves you in a way that you don't love him, he holds you. That's all he can do. He listens as you cry and whisper hoarse I'm sorry's. He strokes your hair. He holds you against him. He doesn't know why you're really crying and he's too naive to ever think about questioning it. He takes you at face value. He lets you do whatever you need as you're in his arms, alone in this hospital room, only your cries and his soft reassurances sounding out. You need this. He lets you have it.

Time goes on as it must. You get over yourself but not over Johnny. The pain in your abdomen never lets you forget. You don't think you'd even want to. What was the point then to have felt all that? 

You continue wrapping your hands and glancing Johnny's way as if he'd spare you the same look he dished out constantly to Simon. He loves you, he does. He loves you the way friends love each other, not how you love him. You're almost content with the idea. Not so much the practice. But you're not going to do anything. You're not going to hurt Simon or Johnny because you didn't know how to speak up sooner. It is your fault, after all. There is no one to blame but yourself for your actions or lack thereof. 

You finish wrapping your hands and stand up. Simon and Johnny's eyes land on you for a moment. Simon nods at you and you nod back and Johnny smiles -that same smile you can't get over, the smile that makes all new recruits weak in the knees, the smile that won him Simon (and you), the smile that you wish would only be yours when you got home- before pumping his fist in the air like his own seal of approval. He turns back toward Simon as you approach the punching bag. You grab it, hold it steady like you would if you could hold Johnny's hips. Then you let out your first punch and barrage after barrage after that. It's therapeutic in a way. You imagine it as yourself. You imagine dying before it got worse. You imagine dying in his arms. You imagine that you didn't get used to it.

Stoking the flames can only last so long. The fire might still burn in your chest but one day, one day it should extinguish. You just have to wait for it.

[gatitties]

War & crack

─Task Force 141 x young!reader

─Summary: some headcanons about your life working with TF141

─Warnings: cliché¿, reader is a gen z

Part two / Halloween special

so... I've been consuming some content about CoD and I know the least about the franchise but the few things I've read have been so good that I couldn't resist writing something too 🫢, sorry if something is out of character since I don't know many things

— You are a threat to society.

— Your parents sent you to the military in the hope that your bad behaviors would disappear, realistically, they were not prepared to be parents either.

— Parental neglect, what a surprise.

— You had many bad influences in your adolescence and free access to the Internet without parental control was like throwing gasoline on the fire.

— Theft, extortion, assault, harassment, banditry, disobedience to authority, fraud, driving without a license, breaking and entering, kidnapping, arson, arms trafficking...

— You had a good record of minor criminal records, the vast majority due to bad friends, but you were already an accomplice.

— Which led you to the fact that when you reached the age of majority, you were enlisted directly into the army without being able to have a choice.

— It wasn't as bad as you thought except for the amount of physical exercise you were subjected to, but you knew how to put up with it.

— Despite being young, in the three years that you served as a cadet, you were sent to many missions, perhaps with the hope of dying since the generals sent you to the front lines of the battle.

— You didn't care, you were feral, careless enough and craving adrenaline, you liked to dance with death in every fight.

— You were the first to run whenever you could to start the attack, after all, all you liked to do was hit, stab or use close-range weapons.

— You lost an arm because of that, you didn't care much because now you have a prosthesis with decorations to your liking.

— Then you were sent to Task Force 141.

— None of the boys expected someone like you, they definitely had a bit of a hard time adjusting to your personality.

— You were a strange combination between Ghost and Soap, going from being a grave to being an explosion of emotions at any moment.

— The first time you saw Ghost you thought he was giving you a side eye and you gave it back to him.

— Later you learned that it's his normal look but you give him the dead look every once in a while.

— Soap and you are not a good combination when you know each other better, he will just give you approval to all the stupid things you see on the internet.

— Gaz might join, but most of the time he just warns you that Price won't be amused.

— Price will look at you like a parent disgusted (but not surprised) by some of your nonsense.

— Confidence sucks, and when you're spouting darkly humorous jokes or about the ways you want to kill yourself because something goes wrong, Price isn't in that boat.

— It's not worth it if you justify it with 'my traumas, my jokes'.

— Honestly, everyone is worried about the number of times you've said you were going to kill yourself for the slightest inconvenience.

— They don't understand most of your current meme references, maybe Gaz, being the second youngest, will pick up on something.

— They were so confused with your attack tactics, because you had practically none, you just jumped in with luck to hit everything you could, which worked every time.

— You will train with Ghost because you are not aware of your surroundings when it comes to fighting.

— The first time they saw your prosthesis they thought a bullet had hit you in the arm, but when you laughed and removed the metal arm shouting 'everything is possible when you're physically disabled' they swallowed their concern.

— You show affection with punches, you punch Soap's shoulder, Gaz's back or Price's side, Ghost... you prefer to communicate with your eyes because the last time you punched him in a friendly way you almost ended up with your shoulder out of its place.

— They can't take you seriously, they really do try but it's impossible, you look like an impulsive teenager who they are babysitting even if you're in your twenties.

— At least it's like that outside the battlefield, you get more serious or focused on the missions.

— Gaz saves your ass whenever you get distracted, which is most of the time, you tell him that he has won heaven but if death wanted to kiss you you weren't going to refuse the offer.

— Seriously, stop with the jokes about your death or depression, Price will get you a psychologist.

— It seems like a joke but Ghost and you end up getting along quite well, it's a quiet and pleasant dynamic, without pressure.

— As with Soap, you know how to adapt a lot to everyone's personalities, as if you were a sponge that absorbs all the likes and disappointments of the boys to get along better.

— You don't give a shit about your own life but you're fighting tooth and nail to protect others.

— Which leads you to almost die once, on top of that, Price scolded you for jumping to try to save them, you didn't care, you'll do it again.

— Squeaks or bangs in the wee hours of the morning? It's you moving the few pieces of furniture in what you can call your own room.

— Someday you'll give the boys a heart attack (Ghost maybe not) because you walk in the dark at night since you tend to stay up late.

— Price will scold you for not sleeping well and drinking so many energy drinks or coffee.

— You will leave random objects in the boys' rooms, like, last time you bought little ducks of different colors and hid them.

— Price denies with a small smile when he sees a yellow duck with a cowboy hat as a paperweight.

— Gaz laughs when he sees a blue duck with an aviator hat in the drawer where he kept his records.

— Soap finds a yellow duck with an umbrella hat next to his bath stuff and fiddles with it when he has time for a long bath.

— Ghost narrows his eyes at the sight of a black duck with sunglasses and gold chains under a pile of clothes in his room, he sighs leaving it in the small window of his room as decoration.

— You are strictly prohibited from bringing any type of animal into the base of operations as a pet, once you wanted to have a raccoon, a tarantula, a snake, you even named a cockroach you saw in the kitchen.

—Just- no.

— So you chose to have a carnivorous plant as a pet, it was acceptable at least.

— You are also prohibited from cooking without supervision.

— You're like a new world for them, but honestly, they wouldn't know what they would do if something happened to you now that you've earned their love.

[teacupcollector]

The Art of Misdirection - Part 3 (141 x Gen Z Reader)

Main Masterlist Modern Warfare II Masterlist A/N: Hello everyone I know it has been a while and I haven't updated is so many years, I think i am back, but I don't know where to go with this story anymore. I wanted to post because I had this in my drafts. I appreciate all the support. i am going to be doing a bit of a blog update because it has been the same for a while. Feel free to request anything COD related. it doesn't have to be from my promt list. I am trying to ease my way into writing again. Have a good day! Summary: Joining the 141 was a wild roller-coaster. Everyone had been apprehensive to you joining due to your age, but you are here to prove them wrong. Now as of this mission and maybe your last they are going to figure out what your nickname means.  

"What the fuck were you thinking!" Soap exclaimed as he stormed toward Ghost.

"Johnny we need to be quiet an..." "Fuck being quiet! What happened to us being a team!" He says as he gets face-to-face with him.

He can feels the slight warm breaths of Ghost through his balaclava. He can feel the intense stare as he looks up at him. He is sure Ghost could feel the anger rolling off of him. He hopes that Ghost feels the slightest bit intimidated but he knows that isn't the case.

"We are a te-" Soap makes sure to lean up as far as he can. Trying his best to puff out his chest and make himself bigger.

"No apparently we're not because we just left her behind! What happened to the Ghost that would stick his neck out for his squad member!" Soap exclaims as his anger seems to rise.

"He is still there Mactavish! I needed to get you both out of there. You were injured and I had no idea what Gaz's condition was! I had to assume she was dead in an effort to save the rest of you!" Ghost says as his voice begins to rise in turn.

"You hated her the moment she stepped foot on base... You didn't bother to confirm if she was alive! She is one of us!" Soap says shoving Ghost which causes Ghost to Step back a step.

"Was this some opportunity to get her off your back?! You were probably glad she was dead!" "You need to hush it John-" Ghost bellows only to be cut off by Soap once again.

"Just because she is younger than us doesn't mean she isn't capable! Was she just going to be another name in your already red ledger? Do you only see her as collateral damage?!"

Ghost stays silent. Not because Soap is right, but because he is unable to come up with an answer. Technically yes she was. He didn't want it to be that way, but she dug her grave and now she had to lie in it, and that is exactly what he said.

"She dug the grave for herself and she had to lie in it! It was sacrifice the few to save the lives of the many! You need to understand that I made a logical choice! You need to separate your emotions from situations like this or it will get you killed!" Ghost sees Soap change stance.

He knew that Soap was going to punch him in the face the moment he stepped outside the tent. He knew he deserved it, but just because he deserved it doesn't mean he was going to let it happen. Before any action could take place Gaz steps out of the tent.

"What the fuck are you both doing out here!" Both Ghost and Soap turn to Gaz.

"It doesn't fucking matter. Medical evac is seven klicks out. We need to get a move on before you alert anyone else of our position..." He grumbles as he walks back inside the tent.

Soap grunts before going around the fire and packing up things that are needed. Ghost walks toward the tent and begins to pack up everything that is inside. Gaz is walking out with the radio and some medical supplies.

Ghost looks over to you laying nearly lifelessly on the cot. If it weren't for the rise and fall of your chest he would have been convinced. He begins taking things off the foldable tables and folding them up before exiting the tent. He does this for the second table as well. When he comes in a third time he sees Soap sitting on the ground and running his fingers through your hair.

"We're going to move you alright Lass? We need to finish packing up and then we will get you out of here." He says softly.

Soaps hand goes from your hair to your cheek as the back of his hand caresses the side of your face. He then turns his hand so his thumb can wipe away the wet residue of your tears and blood. Soap then turns his head to Ghost and glares. He stands up and goes to pick you up when Ghost stops him.

"You aren't fit to pick her up Sargent. Go wait in the jeep." Ghost says.

Soap looked like he was about to argue but he knew Ghost was right. It would only injure his leg more and he would jostle her around to much in an effort to avoid causing further injury to it. Soap walked out and Ghost sighed.

"Gotta stay with us Corporal. I need you to be alive so I can rip you a new one for being so fucking stupid." He grunts as he bends down and collects you in his arms.

He walks out of the tent to the last standing vehicle and opens up the back seat. He lays you down in it and you groan at the change of body placement. Soap then hops in the back seat as well using his right thigh as a pillow to support your head. Ghost looks between the both of you as he sees Soap run his hands through your hair.

"You'll be alright m'eudail (My dear)... We will get you better." Soap looks up at Ghost and sighs.

Ghost takes that as a sign and gently shuts the door and sighs. Ghost swiftly goes over the layout of the camp to see if there is anything else needed to be packed, but Gaz seemed to have already packed everything and put out the fire. Ghost goes to the passenger side and gets in which is soon followed by Gaz in the drivers seat.

"Drive easy Gaz... Please." Ghost hears from behind him.

Gaz nods into the rear view before he stops driving. "Keep the lights off until we are a Klick out or so got that Gaz?"

Gaz nods but stays silent as he goes a snail pace. Once they are out a bit the head lights go up and he begins to drive a bit faster. Soap has been whispering soothing words to you this entire time. Every whimper you make when there is a particular harsh bump he is there to comfort you. Ghost can only listen as he keeps his eyes out on the horizon. He feels his heart pinch in his chest. He allowed you to get hurt. He left you behind. He needs to make sure you are okay, but he knows that Soap can handle it. He needs to get out of his head and focus on the task at hand and keep an eye out for potential threats as well as the helicopter that will be evacuating them. Ghost doesn't want to be harsh, but he is going to talk to Price about your behavior. You were down right suicidal today and he will not have that threaten his squad.

"Why do you call her Misdi?" Ghost asks in a low tone.

"It's uh... it's short for Misdirection. When she was in Iraq under American command she was the best at distracting the enemy from the main task at hand..." Gaz says in an equally low tone.

"However she had her own squad for that." Ghosts eyes widen.

"She is only a Corporal how is that possible?" Ghost says keeping his tone level.

"Well she was on the promotion board, but that was cut short for some reason and she was nominated to be on this task force." Gaz murmurs.

"Must've gotten in some trouble with the bullshit she pulled today. I wouldn't be surprised..." Ghost growls.

That is when there is a whimper from the back seat which was louder then the others. Your eyes are filled with tears as you adjust to what they assume is consciousness.

"I'm here lass, they bein' to loud huh?" "Bear..." you mumble. "Hurts..."

"I know lass... I'm here you can squeeze my hand as hard as you want." Soap says as he slips his hand in yours and you squeeze.

"Scared Bear..." you whimper.

"I know, but we are here and we are heading home." Soap says using his other hand to run through your hair and gasps slightly.

"What is it Soap?" Gaz asks.

"Her head started bleeding again. 'Ts bleedin' through the bandage..." Soaps voice cracks.

"She'll be fine, keep pressure on it." Ghost says as he taps on Gazs shoulder to get him to speed up. Gaz nods before speeding up.

"I got to put pressure on yer head alright?" Soap says as he presses down on your wound.

You let out a cry and he tries his best to comfort you. "I know, I know. You got this alright?" Soap says as he continues to murmur to you. ---

You weren't unconscious that entire time. You were up ever since he put you in the car. You hate that Ghost thought so little of you. You couldn't help but let out a small whimper. You just hope they assume it was out of pain. Then again it is pain. Pain of the heart because they have no idea what you went through. Only Laswell and Price know and you want to keep it that way. You wish you could have said a snarky comment, but your eyes fell closed. Only to open at the rendezvous point. You were lifted onto a stretcher and into the helicopter. You look up to see Soap, Gaz, and Ghost in the seats and strapped down and that is when you realize your head is strapped to the stretcher and unable to move.

Your chest begins to heave up and down as your eyes strain to look either side of you.

"Let me out... Let me out!" You cry out and the three snap their head down to you.

You begin to thrash and strain in an effort to get out. Your vision starts to blur with tears as you feel the other restraints binding you. You suddenly see a head pop into your vision.

"Get away from me!" You shout.

"Ma'am if you don't calm down we are going to have to sedate you." The person above you says, but this only causes you to panic further.

"Love we're here." You hear Gaz say and suddenly you feel a hand enter your own and you immediately dig your nails into him.

"It's just me love. It's big G. Remember when you gave me that nickname? It's really stupid innit?" Gaz says with a laugh.

You go to nod but the restraint on your head is limiting the movement. You feel the moment of hyperventilation beginning to take over once again, but Gaz squeezes your hand, grounding you. "Try and sleep, okay? We'll be out of here in no time." He says. You take in a deep breath before closing your eyes and letting the darkness encompass you.

[callofloony]

Pinchers

Soap who loves to hold your hand, he does it so often that you’ve started to call him “crab,” affectionately, of course. And he wears that nickname with pride, he will happily be your grabby handed little sea creature.

It’ll be in passing, celebrating with you on how a mission went, and his fingers will just… Trail to yours. Intertwining without much resistance. He always feels so relaxed whenever he holds your hand, it’s grounding in a way, the tension leaving his body.

It’s only when you notice him drinking twice his body weight, and bawling over something incoherent, drunken babbling so strong his words slur into nothingness, do you truly find out how comforting your hand is to him.

You gently grab his, fingers intertwining in his own with a gentle squeeze, and he squeezes back, to no ones surprise, and you find him instantly calming down over the gesture, his once tear stained cheeks are being willingly wiped away by your other hand, melting into your touch, and his eyes follow suit. Drying like the tears never existed in the first place.

He lets you drag him to bed, practically tossing him onto the mattress where he mindlessly collapses, passing out moments after with your hand still intwined with his, and you don’t have the heart to let go.

[ch3rrybbie]

🫧masterlist🫧

From:

Randall kirkland

- Need

You can’t seem to stay away from Randall, you’re yet to speak and he can’t stop staring. Why do you feel like you know him? What does he want? What do you need?

- Want (part 2 of need )

When things take a turn for the worst you begin the question Randall’s interest in you even more than you maybe should…

-Have (part 3)

to have and to hold.

One shots:

-Sunsetz

basking in the bliss of a cold winter afternoon and overpacking.

-Joyride

you attempt to be a good neighbour becomes a little too good for the both of you.

———

Call of Duty:

Ghoap x reader!romantic, 141 x reader!platonic

-Pas de trois (Musketeer!AU)

Paris is taught as a bowstring and it is aimed at your chest. Someone wants you dead and the king and queen won’t allow it. They enlist their finest task force and quickest musketeers in keeping you alive long enough to figure out who your hunter is.

ACOTAR:

Azriel x reader

- Afterglow

Reader yearns for Az as she feels the bond set in she confesses and takes comfort in Lucien and Az does care. Does he?

———

The Boys:

Homelander

-Please,please,please

He’s fucked you over again and he’d do anything to make it right, he starts with begging.

-Messy (Please,please,please part 2)

he’s back like a cat with a dead bird.

The Deep

-Itch to scratch

it’s ovulation week and 🎶 you need a hero🎶 sorry himbo, you need a himbo.

———

SEND IN REQUESTS!🫵

Fandoms/characters i wanna write for:

- Vikings

- Billy hargrove/stranger things

- Most House of the Dragon+Game of thrones characters

- Gen V + the boys

homelander x reader one shot request (coming soon)

- Sauron (can you blame me have you seen him in RoP)

- Joel Miller, The Last of Us

- Gladiator 2 (after i see it asap)

- Outerbanks

-Dune

-Grishaverse

———

FEEL FREE TO SEND REQUESTS FOR OTHER FANDOMS!!! I might not know them or i could’ve forgotten to add them to the list! worst i can say is no 😉

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Relief (Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Reader) Smut

Summary: It's the end of another mission, and you're ready to unwind with your new favourite destresser - casual sex with Soap.

AN: Thanks again to everyone who voted in the poll. I'm tempted to do another for the fics I've got drafted. My third favourite white guy on COD is finally on my blog ayyy.

If you wanna request a fic, check out my guidelines before sending one in! Also, if you wanna be tagged in any future fics, let me know!

Content warnings: Smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fuck-buddies in love trope, Reader is AFAB and gender neutral

Masterlist // AO3 Version

With a sigh, your head tilted back against the door you were pressed into. A half-surprised huff escaped next, since your body hadn’t left an impression in the wood – not unlike how Soap’s fingers were likely etched in bruises on your thighs from where he was holding you. He didn’t normally hold onto you so tightly, so desperately. But you let him anyway.

His nose leant above your shoulder. His chest caught its breath in deep sluggish drags, the glow of his skin pressed to yours whilst you did the same.

“You gonna put me down?” You huffed.

“Maybe. Quite like you like this.”

Of course he did. That’s why you’d barely made it out of briefing and not at all on his bed. Soap adjusted his grip and lifted your legs’ grip a little higher up his waist, which caught you off-guard and a moan slipped out.

You gave him a little taunt: “I know sex is a work-out but that doesn’t mean you can start deadlifting me whilst your cock’s still inside me.”

“Damn,” and Soap lifted his head up to look in your eyes with that laddish smirk and smug stare, “There goes my routine I was planning for tomorrow. Hey-” His brow creased as you attempted to lower one of your legs, his hand squeezing the meat of your thigh, “- I meant it. I like you like this.”

“This isn’t exactly helping the pain,” You said, referring to the mildest of injuries you’d ever gotten on a mission – a massive bruise behind your left shoulder.

Instantly, and with you still in his arms, Soap walked you over to his bed. His open hand cradled your hair as he lowered himself onto the sheets, then flopped back ungracefully. You on the other hand remained sat upright on his cock; your head tilted to the side as you watched Soap fidget against the pillow.

“You alright down there?”

Putting his hands behind his head, Soap winked, “Perfect. The view’s fantastic.”

Those random “clench to the music” videos on TikTok had been preparing you for this moment. You squeezed around his cock and Soap’s self-assured chuckles were stolen away. Tilting your head playfully at him, you watched him grunting beneath you.

Soap’s brows shot up his forehead as he opened up those bashful blue eyes, “Oh, that’s how you wanna play?”

His body beneath you shuffled as he planted his heels besides his buttocks. Your grin remained etched on your face as he thrust up into you. The first time, you could hold in your groans. The second time, your lips were pressed together as you lowered your elbows either side of his head.

“One Earthshattering Soap Special coming up?”

“Fuckin’ minx.”

It was so hard to kiss him properly when he wouldn’t stop making you smile, moan, whisper how good he made you feel. His shameless stare flitted between your face twisted in overstimulation and your hand rubbing at yourself to chase down your next orgasm. Each thrust was bordering on painful, the perfect distraction for your greedy body.

At the moment your orgasm wiped across you, you didn’t have to hold back a scream. All energy left was trained on those laboured breaths snatched between your mouth and Soap’s, both agape and brushing awkwardly as you greedily rutted into one another for more until the waves faded to ripples then to contented hums. His nose slotted to yours as you lifted your chest an inch from him.

“Was it intentional?”

“What’d’you mean?”

“Soap Special. Coming up,” you repeated, your laughter coming out hushed as you grappled with Soap’s shoulders to stay vertical.

“No, can’t be on my a-game with dirty jokes whilst your cunt squeezing the life out of me,” and Soap gripped your hips tighter. “And I can’t have done a good enough job if you can still think properly.”

“I recover fast. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

And you fell over into his chest, flopping your entire weight on him as you copied how he’d squashed you between himself and the door – but at least he had the luxury of it being a mattress on his back this time.

His arms curled protectively around you, keeping you pressed to him whilst he kissed you stupid, quite literally. You sighed dreamily; your hand tangled in his mohawk.

“You need a haircut,” you mumbled into his mouth. “Just a trim. Sides are getting long.”

“Warmin’ up to it, are you?”

“I will say it’s convenient for holding onto.”

Soap snorted, half your body sinking on his chest’s sudden exhale. Your fist squeezed in his hair once more before freeing him and pushing you away from him. When a flash of bliss from your cunt caught you off guard, and a short moan shot out of you, you waited for Soap to tease you about it. But he did no such thing whilst you climbed off his cock. Just looked at you with a close-lipped smile and his hand stroked up and down your bicep.

“Stay,” He hummed as you twisted around and swung your legs off the edge of his bunk.

“I can’t.”

“You can.” It was said with sincerity, not his usual sarcasm.

So you tried to include a sense of warning in your retort, “Soap.” But it just came across as sardonic and you waited for Soap to take advantage of it.

Instead, he sat up and wrapped himself against you. Feigning annoyance, you pushed his rising torso down into the bed.

You tried again, “We do this routine every time. It’s getting boring.”

Soap bounced right back up, “Boring���s not how I’d describe it.” To support his point, you endured listening to his kisses smacking against your skin, sending light-headed chills with each new contact. Soft vibrations from his throat tickled your shoulder’s slope.  

“You’re practically purring,” You said, hiding how uneven your words were in a half-laugh.

“Course. I’m the cat who got the cream.”

“Fucking hell,” You huffed, still smiling as you pulled up your underwear.

Your trousers were halfway up your legs when you pushed him away again but, this time, Soap stayed firm. He didn’t even move an inch under the light pressure of your palm.

“Don’t go. Please, Y/N.”

“First name basis when you’re not inside me? Must be real serious,” you parroted with a half-decent Scottish accent, though you didn’t miss how his begging affected you.

You turned to him now your trousers were done up. Your smile dropped; the “but” lingered on your lips as it saw Soap’s expression. You’d seen this man in pain, furious, over the moon, in bliss. But this was the most open, the most vulnerable, you’d seen him. Wide eyes peered at you in the low-lit room, letting you see directly through into his mind and its unsettled state, framed in that five o’clock shadow that had sprouted on his cheeks during the mission. It aged him. It made him look as weary as he felt.

His final plea of “I don’t wanna be alone, not tonight” uprooted the core of what this whole deal was about: stress relief. Soap still had stress that needed relieving, only it wasn’t with the usual fuck and funnies that you were used to.

You’d turned to him initially because you wanted to not think. Soap was wonderful at distracting; he always unwound you so easily, grounding you with his quips and that gorgeous drawl he spoke in. Perhaps you’d been neglecting him. Or perhaps you were leaning into this arrangement too much. The latter occupied your mind more. Were you getting in too deep?

“I need the toilet,” you whispered. Your eyes dragged up from the quiver that crossed his bottom lip and you finished buckling your belt on the other side of his bedroom door.

You were somewhat certain of why you were treating Soap’s request like a confession of love, because, in a way, it was. Admitting you need help that can only be given by a certain someone, that’s trust beyond the bond forged on the battlefield. And cuddling? Kissing you goodnight? His open expression you caught him wearing before he snuck in a quip? All things that had come before this night that had added up to support your conclusion.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it before – leaning into the romantic side you’d already been sharing with each other. In fact, a bystander would probably call out how the only thing missing from your relationship was that very label.

A fear of commitment wasn’t what was preventing you. But the paperwork alone would be a pain in the arse. Then there were the comments other people would make. Although not from Ghost or Gaz, besides some light ribbing. Price probably wouldn’t have much to say either. That risk of getting caught leaving Soap’s room, it hadn’t even crossed your mind as you left him tonight.

You were still silently pondering as you squatted on the toilet, completing your post-hook-up routine. Soap’s forlorn face was one you didn’t think you could recover from with a good night’s sleep. Facing him tomorrow at breakfast, sparring, trusting each other on the job and in the gym, it seemed the longer you left this the worse it would get.

Soap was facing away from the bedroom door for a split second before he sat up to face the sliver of light from the hallway, his body shrouded in your silhouette. He didn’t speak. He just watched as you closed the door, undressed, and returned to his side. There wasn’t a lot of room in the bed, so he turned back on his side and you embraced him around his middle, his soft skin pitted over muscles and under scars.

“I woulda agreed to stay if you removed all your bravado quicker,” you whispered.

“I’ll remember that next time.” And he squeezed your hand in his.

The temptation to joke about his hair again crept in your throat alongside the tickle in your nose that it had caused, but now didn’t feel like the time. You stored it away for next time – there was always a ‘next time’ – and instead, between his shoulder blades, where the muscles folded in a neat crease down his spine, you pressed a kiss.

[pfhwrittes]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. (If you feel like it, no pressure.) Spread the self-love ❤️

hiya tats! i love you with all my small squishy heart 💜 in no particular order i give you:

"romance" in the age of technology (smut, soap x trans!gaz)

sentinel (darkfic, smut, john mactavish x female reader)

this armpit fetish thing (smut, armpit fetish, john price x reader)

room 28 (fluff, top surgery aftercare soapgaz x reader)

we're in for nasty weather (tradieverse au, gen. fic john price & simon riley)

[ao3feed--kylux]

Kinktober Prompts with Characters

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/eAyx1YW

by Dead_Boy_Reads_27, Shiney121007

Words: 103, Chapters: 1/32, Language: English

Fandoms: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Original Work, Call of Duty (Video Games), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other

Relationships: Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren, Erin "Battery" Baker/He "Seraph" Zhen-Zhen, Original Character/Original Characters, König/John "Soap" MacTavish/Simon "Ghost" Riley, Leon S. Kennedy/Reader, Jason "J. D." Dean/Veronica Sawyer, Kurt Kelly/Ram Sweeney, Leon S. Kennedy/Mr. X | Tyrant T-00

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/eAyx1YW

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

vivi's tumblr drabble dump

by pentrologram a collection of most, if not all, of my drabbles originally posted on tumblr. all of these are x gn!reader Words: 8011, Chapters: 13/?, Language: English Fandoms: Call of Duty (Video Games), Batman - All Media Types Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen, Multi Characters: John Price (Call of Duty), Reader, Bruce Wayne, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Loki (Marvel), Batfamily Members (DCU) Relationships: John Price (Call of Duty)/Reader, John Price (Call of Duty)/You, Bruce Wayne/Reader, John "Soap" MacTavish/Simon "Ghost" Riley, Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader, Simon "Ghost" Riley/You, Bruce Wayne/You, John "Soap" MacTavish/Reader, John "Soap" MacTavish & Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish/You, Loki (Marvel)/Reader Additional Tags: Drabble Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent John Price (Call of Duty), Soft John Price (Call of Duty), Protective Simon "Ghost" Riley, Protective John "Soap" MacTavish, Domestic Loki (Marvel), Bruce Wayne is Brucie Wayne, Soft Simon "Ghost" Riley via https://ift.tt/ViAUDzf

[siilvan]

instead of WIP wednesday, we’re having WIP friday at 7am– honestly, i’ll take any excuse to bring up what i’m working on >:)

stupidly long list below the cut!!!

in-progress

dusk - price x reader (18+) (request)

– basically just flirting leading to smut in a safe house lol

drag me under (prologue) - price x reader (18+)

– start of my first enemies-to-lovers series!! reader’s a honeypot, price falls for it, things get complicated 🙏

not started

phosphorus - nikolai x reader (18+)

– literally just shameless smut in a helicopter ngl

telomeres - rudy x teacher!reader

– rudy ends up falling for his niece’s teacher >:)

VIP - soap x reader

– sorta just a bodyguard au with captain mactavish!

this place will become your tomb - nikolai x reader

– technically another enemies-to-lovers fic, but they’re on the same team. just a series of misunderstandings ✊😔

distraction - nikolai x reader (18+)

– more shameless smut with possessive!nik 🫣

the creed - mandalorian!ghost x reader

– self explanatory ngl. reader ends up under the protection of mando!ghost 😼

bloodsport - atom x reader (18+)

– sorta FWB but like… dangerous y’know. i just love morally ambiguous masked men (100% convinced he’s makarov)

gen/romantic headcanons - yuri x reader

– i do not care if nobody reads it, i WILL be writing for yuri. he’s literally my war criminal wife 🫶

euclid - könig x reader

– resident evil/raccoon city au!

are you really okay? - alex x medic!reader

– fluffy and sorta angsty oneshot w/ UFC medic reader!

sugar - gaz x civilian!reader

– pure fluff!!! this one should be super cute :)

the apparition - ghost x civilian!reader

– can’t decide between neighbor ghost or mafia ghost for this one… either way it’s gonna be more angsty than gaz’s fic lol

somewhere in the past - hadir x ULF!reader

– pure angst… set after his betrayal in MW19 🫣

gen/romantic headcanons - valeria x reader

– i love women 🫡

dark signs - valeria x 141!reader

– semi-slow burn set during and after las almas!

take me back to eden - yuri x medic!reader

– unashamed to admit that reader is loosely based off my oc and this is gonna be soooo self-indulgent 🤭 probs mostly fluff and hurt/comfort

take aim - graves x 141!reader

– sorta similar to hadir’s fic if you squint 😶 takes place shortly before and after the betrayal in las almas!

rain - price & ghost

– platonic found-family fic based off one of barry sloane’s lives! ghost basically ends up living with price 🫶

i’ve got a couple other ideas floating around, like an alejandro x reader gym crush fic, but this list is already insanely long and very subject to change 💀

WIP Wednesday

Uhh I think Im the first one today so Imma tag; @gaeadene @direwombat @clicheantagonist @the-delicate-disaster @g0dspeeed @bunny-extract @deadbranch @glossythor and YOU person reading this if you wanna be tagged and I did not

Ghost + GN!reader; the “trapped in the elevator” concept. PTSD all that fun stuff. Neither reader nor ghost is having a fun time. Disclaimer I am a dumbass(tm) and idk how this stuff works ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

You think nothing of it when stepping onto the elevator, Ghost close on your heels. The pair of you are heading towards the same meeting on another floor.

A wicked storm rages outside, wind whipping trees and debris as rain pelts against the glass windows.

The base usually holds up well in storms. You don’t worry about it.

There’s no one else in the elevator as it shuts. Your phone is kept in hand despite knowing you never get service here. In just a moment you’ll be at your destination, and the effort of putting it up just to immediately pull it back out is more than you want to do.

You give a polite nod to the SAS sniper as he walks past you and settles himself with his back tucked against the wall. He returns the gesture and that’s about it for your small talk.

You’re not friends, and even acquaintances would be pushing it. But you cross paths enough to have that adjacent familiarity. He knows your face and you know his…well, his mask.

If it was someone else you might ask the performative question of double checking the two of you are heading to the same floor. Idle chit chat to pass the time on the way to the meeting.

Ghost isn’t the chit chat type and you know it. The number 5 glows when you press the button, the gears whirling overhead.

You’re on the second floor. The screen indicates 2-3-4-

And just shy of the screen switching over to 5 the gears screech to a halt, the lights cutting out in the elevator. You’re plunged into darkness, a startled “what the fuck?” escaping you before the emergency light kicks on.

It’s dimly lit and spooky. Ghost’s skull faced balaclava doesn’t do anything to lighten the mood.

You’re not in love with the idea of being stuck in the elevator, a distant ringing outside the compartment indicating that there’s people (you) trapped inside.

You know it won’t do anything but you press the now dim 5 button a few times. The mechanical click of the button depressing is the only thing that greets you.

“Well shit. You don’t have service, do you?” you figure the answer is no, but maybe today will be your lucky day.

Ghost is silent just a hair too long and the silence is enough to set you slightly on edge. He’s not registering that you’ve spoken to him.

“Ghost?”

It’s fucking creepy the way his head snaps to your direction. But at least now he’s acknowledging your existence.

“Do you have service?”

The amount of time it takes him to blink scares the shit out of you.

He doesn’t normally kick up your flight or response like this. But then again he’s not usually fucking dissociating right in front of you. He’s stiff as a board, not moving, barely blinking and staring you down in silence.

“Ghost,” it takes everything in you to keep your voice even keel.

You’ve heard the stories. Not of him specifically but soldiers in general. They call them episodes.

The term is almost cute. Much less cute that an episode involves you being trapped in a verifiable shoebox with a soldier who could snap you like a twig if he wants to.

That’s usually a problem for nurses and other medical staff. Working in tech you aren’t usually given a front row seat to a soldier looking ready to crawl up the walls.

He blinks again and you let out a sigh as the tension in his shoulders drop slowly.

[buterccup]

GEN Z READER IN TASK FORCE 141 HC + könig!! PT 2

A/N: You guys are so sweet!! Thank you for the support on the first part of Gen z! Reader series/ Daffodil series, it seriously means a lot! And since I saw someone ask for König I decided to add him too, our baby deserves some love too! And again if anyone has codename ideas please tell me because I am still considering changing Daffodil to something else!

Warnings: Dark humour, Suicide jokes, simping, swearing, mentions of parents leaving the reader, basically gen z stuff, usual CoD violence, wholesome family stuff,

Character(s): Soap, Gaz, John, Ghost, Price, könig x Gn! reader (Mention of Laswell and Graves)

Codename: Daffodil

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

It had been a couple months since you joined the task force and met your boys and they are happy you are with them, and despite being thick-skinned and having a very fucked humour you can get emotional at times.

One time you got upset over something and hugged the closes person to you.

It was Ghost.

And surprisingly he didn't mind, he understood that you were still young and needed comfort. So he gave you comfort that he never got properly when he was younger.

But once you told Ghost that you loved him which caught him off guard and made him stay away from you for a bit to process what you said.

Of course you told him you loved him through texts but hearing you say it was a whole other story.

The others get this treatment too.

Even if you're not upset you'll randomly say that you love them, which they find sweet but they all were caught off guard at first by the sudden burst of affection.

But they got used to it!

But there was one thing they weren't getting used to, your jokes.

Price swears he can feel himself get grey hair every time he hears one of your 'jokes'.

They even came up with a very...odd name for them: "Dil Humour"

When they first started saying the little inside joke you looked at them like they said something horrible.

"Excuse me?? Dil humour????"

"You know ill but instead of ill it's dil from Daffodil- No?.."

"Stop..."

To say the least you were not impressed and you were sure Price came up with it.

But you still loved them anyways.

Even with that ugly hat.

You swear he committed a war crime by just wearing it but he lets you wear it just to spite you. Aw.

You made a Spotify playlist for all your boys and continuously added songs to them until you're ready to share it with them.

One time Gaz caught you adding songs to Soap's playlist and tried to peek over your shoulder.

"What are you doing."

"Your mom"

"Never mind.."

And you may or may not have made one for König.

I mean who could blame you?!

When you first saw the man you were in the mess hall eating with your boys, sitting in between Ghost and Soap, minding your own business until you saw the newest love of your life.

You started to choke while slamming the table with a red ass face.

And you bet that Ghost was the first one to slam his hand onto your back while Soap sat wide-eyed at what just happened.

Before any of your boys could say anything you were looking around like a hawk and getting up to talk to König.

To say the least your boys were in shock and stayed that way until you came back minutes later with a huge smile on your face.

"I GOT A NEW BAE"

"Shh..." (🧼)

"I got a new bae!"

"Oh yeah?" (🧼)

"Fucking what." (💀)

(that one unas anus moment)

And after a while you started sending König so many heart locket gifs of him and a lot of bear memes.

You don't what it is about the guy but he is GIVING bear.

Anyways you love this man to pieces and will always try your best to control yourself and not say any suicide jokes around him.

But you can control yourself so much.

The first ever time König heard you threaten to shoot yourself his eyes widened.

The poor thing was worried for you since all he's ever seen of you was sunshine and memes.

He would just place his hands on your shoulders and make you look him in the eyes as he asks if you're okay and if you ever need to talk you can always go to him.

You sometimes go training with him too and you couldn't stop fawning over how strong he was in your head.

And speaking of training, you also go train with your boys too.

There was one time, Soap was doing push ups and he thought it would be fun to have you sit on his back.

And who were you to say no to that.

Although sometimes you go to the 141 group chat and send memes.

Gaz is always the first to respond.

Always.

Gaz: Where did you find this??

Foap: Daffo this isn't funny

Price: Kid

Gaz: Aren't you two supposed to be training

Price: Where are you both

Baby gril: Is that me?

Soap or whoever is training you always end up finding you when you send jokes like those and make you work extra hard during train with him which makes you cry internally.

Speaking AGAIN of your humour one time you were fighting off one of the enemies and he landed quite a hard punch on you, cutting your cheek in the progress, but once the boys showed up the guy was dead and most of his blood was on your hands. Literally and figuratively.

There was no way of telling which one of the boys came up to you first but they definitely kept asking about your cheek.

"Are you sure you're okay soldier?"

"Yeah I'm sure, my dad hit harder anyway-"

"Daffodil."

They weren't happy with what you said, especially Price

OH

Your boys will never forget the day when they found out that you couldn't drive.

At first everything was a blur, it was during a mission and you all had to fall back, and you somehow got into the driver's seat while Price, Ghost and Soap were in the back while Gaz got in the passenger's seat.

Ghost would have a bullet in his arm while Price and Soap shouted at you to go.

You floored it.

The sudden action made Soap hit his head against the car wall while Gaz and Price were yelling at you to stop.

"YOU SHOULD'VE LEARNT THIS WHEN YOU WERE IN TRAINING."

" JUST GIVE ME THE WHEEL!"

"DEADASS MIGHT THROW UP"

"DAFFODIL-"

They vowed they would never let you drive again until someone teaches you.

You were just bored one day so you beelined your way to Gaz's room and slammed yourself onto his bed.

Of course Gaz was shocked once he saw you enter his room but soon got on with whatever he was doing.

And just like Price, he would never tell you to get out of his room unless it was super important and would just talk with you about random things and let you vent to him.

Somehow you always end up getting all sentimental and it's just really sweet in the end.

Soap sings in the shower.

And Lord have mercy if you hear him you will ALWAYS join in and vice versa.

You two are a power duo.

There was this one time you convinced Ghost and Price to go catfishing with you on a dating app with your phone.

Their names were Gina and Fraincesca and it was very chaotic.

One time one of the people that matched with them started texting your phone during a meeting with Laswell and Graves and since it was going nowhere you checked one of the messages to see a voice message and then-

"Hey baby gorl."

"I'm going to actually kill myself, I will shoot myself right now it's not funny, I have a letter under my bed guys Imma go-"

"Daffodil."

Soap and Gaz still won't let you live properly after that no matter how much Price and Laswell tell them to stop.

Meanwhile Ghost and Grave would just act like nothing happened.

But even after what happened and the relentless teasing Soap and Gaz would do they still cared.

Live, Love, Laugh guys.

Requests: Closed

(Part 3 coming soon and also a one-shot!)

Tag list:

@agspgrwasb

@hwrtsiren

@red-plaidedandcladed

@justmare

@bitchigoteverythingissues

[teacupcollector]

Art Of Misdirection Part 3 Sneak Peak

Ghost stays silent. Not because Soap is right, but because he is unable to come up with an answer. Technically yes she was. He didn't want it to be that way, but she dug her grave and now she had to lie in it, and that is exactly what he said.

"She dug the grave for herself and she had to lie in it! It was sacrifice the few to save the lives of the many! You need to understand that I made a logical choice! You need to separate your emotions from situations like this or it will get you killed!" Ghost sees Soap change stance.

He knew that Soap was going to punch him in the face the moment he stepped outside the tent. He knew he deserved it, but just because he deserved it doesn't mean he was going to let it happen. Before any action could take place Gaz steps out of the tent. A/N: Hello my loves. It has been a long time since I have updated. i am sorry for my long time away. I promise I will be getting back to writing soon. For now. Enjoy "The Art Of Misdirection Part 3" Sneak Peak. It isn't done yet, but I think this is a decent chunk. I have bever done sneak peeks before, so I hope you enjoy!

[hina-hina]

Welcome to My Blog!!

My name is Hina and I write x reader headcanons based on requests sent to my inbox! Right now, I only write for COD, but If I ever write for other fandoms, they will be listed here. Please refer to my request rules before requesting!! This post will be updated as I continue to post requests!

Replies on posts aren't working but I promise I see your replies and I read everyone of them!!! I reply using my alt now, "hina-alt"

→ Want to join my taglist? Click here!!! ←

♡ - Romantic // ♢ - Platonic

♀ - Female!Reader // ♂ - Male!Reader // ⚥ - GenderNeutral!Reader

Requests Closed!!

Thank you to everyone who requested!

|| COD Masterlist ||

Please refer to the guidelines before requesting!!

|| Multiple

♥ Task Force 141 and how much rizz they have ♡ ⚥

♥Task Force 141 + König with a chaotic S/O ♡ ⚥

♥Ghost, König, Soap, and Alejandro's reactions to their child's first words being "Dad" ♡♢ ♀

♥️Task Force 141 Taking in a Orphaned Child // Part Two // Part Three ♢ ♀

♥️Ghost and König With an S/O Who Knows They Are in a Game ♡ ⚥

♥️Ghost + Soap Getting Stranded With Reader ♡ ⚥

♥️König X Soap X Ghost X Reader Enemies to Lovers ♡ ⚥

♥️Ghost + Soap With a Selective Mute S/O ♡ ♀

♥️How Ghost, Soap, Alejandro + König Would React When Their Child Has a Crush ♡♢ ♀

♥️Task Force 141 Gaining the Trust of a Traumatized Teenager ♢ ♀

♥️ Soap + Alejandro With a Gen Z S/O ♡ ⚥

♥️ Task Force 141 Accidently Walking in on Reader Getting Dressed ♡ ⚥

♥️ Task Force 141 (+ Alejandro and Rodolfo) With an Emotionally Stiff S/O ♡ ⚥

♥️ Soap + Ghost With an S/O Whose a Lieutenant ♡ ⚥

♥️ Ghost + König With a Mute S/O ♡ ♀

♥️ Task Force 141 (+ Alejandro and Valaria) With an S/O Who Has Anxiety and Ptsd ♡ ⚥

|| Simon "Ghost" Riley

♥ Ghost with a partner who's a stoner ♡ ⚥

♥️ Ghost with a soft partner ♡ ♀

♥️Ghost secretly getting married ♡ ♀

♥️Ghost X Soft!Reader with a child ♡♢ ♀

♥️ Ghost with a plus-sized S/O ♡ ♀

♥️Ghost X Reader with a child who prefers him to anyone else ♡ ⚥

♥️ Ghost with an S/O who bites ♡ ⚥

♥️Ghost With a Neurodivergent S/O ♡ ⚥

♥️Protective Ghost Headcanons ♡ ⚥

♥️ Ghost Buying a Guard Dog and Reader Spoiling It ♡ ⚥

♥️Ghost With a Daughter That Wants to Go Into the Military ♢ ♀

♥️ Ghost Having a Friends to Lovers Trope With Reader ♡ ⚥

♥️ Ghost With an S/O Who Secretly Draws Him ♡ ⚥

♥️ Ghost With a S/O Who Has a Fear of Guns ♡ ⚥

|| Alejandro Vargas

♥ Alejandro with a partner who's a stoner ♡ ⚥

♥ Alejandro With an Injured Reader ♡ ⚥

♥ Alejandro with a Pregnant Wife ♡ ♀

|| Valeria Garza

♥ Valeria Training with Sister!Reader ♢ ♀

♥️ Valeria With an S/O Who Bites ♡ ⚥

|| John “Soap” MacTavish

♥️ Soap’s partner pranking him ♡ ⚥

|| Captain John Price

♥️Price with child!Reader who’s a carbon copy of him ♢ ⚥

♥️ Price With a S/O Who’s a Soldier ♡ ⚥

|| Rodolfo Parra

♥️ Rodolfo with a soft S/O ♡ ⚥

♥️ Rodolfo With a Plus-Sized Reader ♡ ⚥

|| König

♥️ König Having a Best Friends to Lovers Trope With Reader ♡ ⚥

♥️König With a Reader Who Bites ♡ ⚥

♥️ König With a Nice but Scary S/O ♡ ⚥

|| Gary “Roach” Sanderson

♥️Roach general headcanons ♡ ⚥

|| Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

♥️ Gaz General Headcanons ♡ ⚥

♥️ Gaz With a Stoner S/O ♡ ⚥

|| Alex “Echo 1-3” Keller

♥️ Alex With a Soft S/O ♡ ⚥

♥️ Alex General Headcanons ♡ ⚥

|| Keegan P. Russ

♥️ Keegan With a Quiet S/O ♡ ⚥

[vvh1sk3y]

sfw fluffy soap relationship headcanons? thank you ♥️

mwahaha yes soap is my all time fave <33

character(s): gen!reader x (og) john “soap” mactavish

cw: none

john is so over protective?? he will beat someone to a pulp if they even look at you the wrong way.

he’s a big softy let’s be real here! super scary intimidating around everyone but turns into a giant soft lovey man around you.

he’s also a huge goofball he’s almost never serious around you.

loves cuddling… is always the big spoon, no exceptions.

he doesn’t really want kids but instead wants to own a bunch of cats with you!

john draws and does some art for fun, sometimes he’ll draw random things for you.

he’ll send you heartfelt letters in the mail when he’s away (even if he can just call or text, he thinks it’s more loving)

love language is time, just being around you makes him happy, even if the both of you aren’t speaking.

if you drink together expect there to be drunk karaoke. he can’t hold a note to save his life but for some reason thinks he’s the next up coming pop star.

he can’t cook at all. you really don’t understand how it can be that hard to cook a basic meal but for him it is. he can cook boxed mac and cheese and pasta, that’s it.

ideal date is some sort of picnic with takeout chinese

john just wants you to know how much he loves and cares for you, even if you’ve both fought or argued he makes sure to still say “i love you” and show he cares. :,)

[tomurderornottomurder]

close to my heart; soap/johnny mactavish

pair. johnny "soap" mactavish x male!reader

summ. soap finds you spiraling over a not-so-old crush and does his best to help you out :)

gen. angst, fluff

tw. mentions of being naked, showers, unrequited crush (not soap), unhealthy escapism (?)

wc. 2k.

note. i hate this but i might be overexaggerating so feedback as always appreciated

As usual, your mind runs amuck in the shower, especially given how large the room is. Considering the confined space your shower at home is, it's always weird showering on base. Usually, you're lucky enough or late enough that no one else is occupying the other showers but not tonight. You don't really mind that, you're no huge fan of your body given the wear and tear it's been through in recent years, but it by no means bothers you to be seen naked by your teammates or anyone for that matter; it's something you'd gotten over a long time ago. Keeping your head down and paying attention to yourself is what you do and what most others do as well to either keep alive or avoid the mortifying embarrassment of being seen. So, once you've gone through the little checklist in your head and maybe stood there for a few extra minutes letting your thoughts overwhelm you, you step out, wrap a towel around your waist, and head to your bunk.

You've got a picture that you keep and you feel stupid for keeping but you carry it with you everywhere, usually tucked away in a hidden breast pocket. You pull the picture out of the last shirt it occupied and just stare at it. You really don't mean to stare at it for long, still, your eyes stay steady on the image. If you weren't so used to it by now, you would have jumped at your door opening but you just stay in your quiet stupor, unable to pry your eyes from the picture. 

Soap, who from out of the corner of your eye you can see is also in a towel, steps up by your side. He leans slightly, pressing a soft hand against your shoulder for support as he eyes the same picture. "What are you looking at there?" He questions, trying to figure it out himself. In the photo are two young men, dressed in tuxes, smiling wide at the camera, and one boy has an arm around the other's shoulders. Whoever they may be, seem at least in the photo to be good pals. Soap squints and thinks he can recognize one of the men but is at a loss.

"Just my old friend..." You sigh, finally able to look away, though you look like you're about to cry. "Nothing important," You look at Soap now. "Did you need something?"

"Well, I did," He admits before taking a seat next to you on your bunk. "But now I want to know about that," He points to the photo, "Who are they?"

You chuckle. 

"What's funny?" He looks mildly irritated as his brows furrow. 

"Nothing," You shake your head, "just that you don't recognize me."

His eyes widen and he's immediately examining the photo again. "What?" He exclaims, "You're taking the piss!" He looks at you, wide-eyed.

You shake your head and point yourself out.

"You're him?" 

You laugh heartily at that. "I was different back as a kid." You hum softly to yourself after that like you're deep in thought. 

"You were," He tries to take the photo to look at you closer but your fingers' iron grip win the short-lived battle.

"Sorry," You say before releasing the photo, almost terrified to let the picture go.

"No, here," Soap insists, putting the picture back into your hand. "It means something, doesn't it?" He looks at you with soft, pondering features.

You nod, throat suddenly gone dry. "Yes," You croak. "Thank you," You say before taking the photo in both hands, covering it as you stare against the wall.

"Who's the other guy?" Soap asks both purely out of curiosity and to snap you out of your trance-like state.

"No one," You answer quickly. You, Soap, God, and him know that's a lie. At one point, you loved him, and maybe you still do--more than a friend is supposed to love a friend at least. Why you can't admit that to yourself you don't know. All you can acknowledge is the shame for the feelings. He has a wife now, kids, even a fucking dog. But you, little old you, can't get over him. "He's not no one," You clarify. "I just... don't like talking about him." A beat of silence passes as both you and Soap think about what to say next. "I'm embarrassed about how I feel," You admit with a heavy yet relieving sigh.

Soap listens; he wishes he could know how you feel. He actually twiddles his thumbs as you start up again.

"This was prom," You reveal the picture. "I'm stuck in the past, so I keep this around so I can stay there a little longer." You turn to Soap to assure him, "I'm not crazy. It's just nice to imagine us in our own big house... him by my side..." You shake your head as if to shake yourself out of it. "It's stupid and weird but I don't know what else to do." You feel like the weirdest person on the planet admitting this all to your fellow sergeant but a part of it feels good to let out. "Sorry that was-"

Soap takes your hand, shaking his head before looking straight at you and smiling. "Nothing to worry about, N/n. It's lonely out here and I guess you've known him for a while?" Both of his hands cover your free one and rest in his lap.

You chuckle softly, "'A while' is an understatement. We've pretty much known each other since we were born."

"A long time then," Soap emphasizes the 'long', looking at you with that soft smile that always lets you know everything is all right.

You stay in the moment, Soap's sunbeam-like smile warming your face, his hold on your hand grounding, the proximity exquisitely nice, and the atmosphere just right. It's a perfect moment really. With a sigh, you ruin it all.

"How do I get over him, Johnny?"

Johnny? That meant it was serious.

But Soap is awful at 'getting over it'. He's never really gotten over anyone; you, Price (a brief but important crush), Ghost, that girl who always helped him with math in his sophomore year, the newscaster lady. The list goes on and on. And I mean on. He's never found it necessarily embarrassing though, it's just how his heart is. It likes to remember and love whether it can love the way it wants or not.

The only way he knows how, he answers, and honestly, "I don't know."

Well, that's reassuring. He can see the look on your face and quickly continues.

"I'll be honest, I've never gotten over anyone. I s'pose I try to and that's all you can do... but this really seems to hurt you...?" Soap looks straight into your eyes.

You meet his gaze and nod. You feel like you can finally let go of the picture and you do, letting it float to the ground only for as long as Soap is here. You turn your body toward him, taking the initiative to grab one of his hands with your newly freed one. The familiar prick before tears fall stings both your eyes. You want to look at Soap but you can only manage to look at his lap. "It hurts so much," You squeeze both his hands, leaning forward enough for Soap to break your handholds and wrap his arm around your back while you sob into his chest.

"I know," He coos, rubbing a large hand up and down your bare back. He takes note of the landscape of your back, the notches of your spine, the placement of scars, how thick they are, how fresh. "I know," He repeats, before kissing the top of your head. "It's okay," He assures you though he's not really sure you can hear anything over your own cries. He repeats the words, adding in new ones, repeating them, keeping a steady motion against your back, trying to map out the skin in his mind, waiting for you to pull away because he could never.

"We all love you here," He says and it makes you want to wail louder. "Ghost loves you. Captain loves you. I love you. Gaz loves you. Konig loves you. Alex loves you. Farrah loves you. Laswell loves you. We all do." And he can say it because he knows it's true. "We all care about you, okay?" He's not exactly waiting for or expecting a response but he leaves you the silence for one.

After maybe a few more minutes with some more quiet reassurances from Soap, you pull away. Tears stain your face, your eyes red, your face puffy, and your nose sniffling. You look up at him, "Is that true?" 

You poor thing, how could you not believe it? The things Soap sees, he knows, he has to know it's all true. How Gaz cleans your guns and does that for no one save the captain. How Konig will help you out at the gun range, assisting you with scopes, pointers, and getting happy when you're right on target. How Ghost always looks out for your six, on and off the battlefield, and for stupid things like pranks that he doesn't need to but he does. Not only getting picked by Price to be here in the first place but that way he wraps an arm around you like a dad and praises you for all you've done. How Laswell will never send you alone, though it is quite uncommon, she seems to single you out more than the others about it, and not because you're weak but maybe you remind her of her oldest kid. Farrah and Alex tag-teaming affection, conversation, and dragging you who knows where because they like you that much to actually show off their little hidden spots. Soap notices it all. And he knows what he does, maybe you'll notice it all someday.

Almost in the same manner as a mother, Soap says, "Oh," and cups your face with both hands to wipe your tears with his thumbs. "You're off your head if you don't believe that!"

The aggressive accent coming out makes you laugh and it sure makes you feel better. "Thanks," You mumble, resting your forehead against his chest. You don't prod and ask if he loves you. (You think you already know).

"Any day," He replies softly, "any day."

"Can we stay like this?" Your friend is insanely warm and comfortable and you'd like this all to last a little longer.

"As much as I'd love to lay here naked with you, we should probably get dressed, aye?" He looks down at you. 

"Yeah," You drawl. "You'll come back, right?" 

That was no question. "'Course I will!" He stands though he wishes he could just stay and ruffles your hair before heading toward the door.

"Thank you, Soap. Hurry back,"

He turns and smiles (like he's in a goddamn toothpaste commercial), "Yes, sir!" He salutes you with a mischievous grin before booking it out of your room and down the hall.

Soon enough he's back in your bed -still shirtless- and you lie your head on his chest. He lays comfortably on his back, one arm around you, the other behind his head with his legs kicked out, one bent and pressing against the other. At the same time, you lay on your back too, an arm around his waist, and your legs just on top of his. You both fall asleep quickly and keep warm with the blanket halfway on, just to your hips. (Soap radiates enough warmth to not have to cover all the way up).

---

As is normal for Price, he checks in on everyone to make sure if they're not asleep, they're at least not also missing. He's not really surprised to find you two but he does rush to wake up Gaz so he can take a polaroid of you two. Which he does while grumpy about being woken up.

The next morning you wake up to a picture on your desk that isn't any you already have. It's of you and Soap. Written on the bottom is Sweet dreams in Gaz's handwriting. Bastard. You pick the photo up, smiling at it before tucking it into your breast pocket.

[siilvan]

masterlist

headcanons

141 physical touch headcanons

soap gen headcanons

fics/oneshots

fall for me - john price x f!reader

— your captain knows that it’s wrong to want you, but he just can’t help himself. (18+)

dusk - john price x f!reader

— you decide to take advantage of being alone with the captain for the night. (18+)

bloodsport - vladimir makarov x f!reader

prologue | part I | part II | part III | part IV | interlude | part V | part VI | part VII | part VIII | part IX | part X | part XI | part XII — a botched mission leads to your capture. you assume that imprisonment and torture will be your biggest problems, until your heart is turned on its head. trying to please everyone can only end in bloodshed.

aqua regia - nikolai x f!reader

part I | part II | part III (18+) — you’re sent behind enemy lines to disrupt a chemical weapons smuggling ring. the plan goes awry, and you’re cut off from the team – all except one.

crash site - nikolai x gn!reader

— after your pilot crashes in the middle of a war zone while trying to extract you, a reverse rescue mission ensues.

like real people do - yuri x fem!reader

— after a mission goes badly, yuri comes to you to air out his frustrations, and what was a complicated situation ends up becoming something more. (18+)

sun showers - kyle "gaz" garrick x f!reader

— gaz warms you up after you get caught in the rain.

proximate - rodolfo "rudy" parra x f!reader

— an undercover mission goes awry, leaving you and rudy in a tight spot – literally.

stray - frank woods x f!reader

— you meet a strange man at a bar and wake up in his bed.

oc stuff

oc file - mylène "petra" scholten de ridder

petrayuri nsfw alphabet

desideria - yuri volkov x mylène "petra" scholten de ridder

prologue | part I — strange circumstances and common enemies brings an unlikely pair together.

fortuna redux - mylène "petra" scholten de ridder, freya "mini" mactavish

— the medic of the 141 suddenly becomes two.

oc file - emiel "nightfall" scholten de ridder

…more to come!