#the Scottish love scheme | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jwhitewolfbarnes · 11 days

Text

You just wanted to rile him up. Make him ache a little, stop giving in so easily. Show him that his pouty face with those baby blues isn’t all powerful like he thinks it is. You’re starting to regret that a tiny bit.

“Right there, John,” you breathe out as he pumps his hips into yours at a steady pace. His reaction is immediate; his hand comes up to grasp at your throat- applying firm, delicious pressure. He forces you to look in his eyes, “Stop fucking calling me that.” Each word punctuated with a sharp, brutal thrust as he moves your legs higher up on his hips. Your mouth drops open in reaction to his bed-shaking movements. “C’mon pretty girl, ya know what I want to hear. Say it, c’mon baby,” he pants out, staring right into your wide eyed face.

Regret may have started to set in, but it hasn’t fully won you over. Another approach, maybe?

“ah fuck Johnny, feels so good,” you manage to stutter out as he continues his punishing pace. His eyes flash with something and you think you might have won this round… until he stops. He moves to pull out, but you snap your legs around his waist before he can make it out all the way. “no, no, no! please Johnny, I’m so close. Please don’t stop baby.”

He chuckles as he drops his hand from your throat and leans down to press his body almost completely against yours. He kisses you, such a filthy and desperate display. “oh, I’m sorry baby… ya close?” His voice is sickeningly sweet as he mocks you, “if ya knew how to act right, I’d give ya exactly what this pussy needs. but yer being a fuckin brat. I just want one thing from ya, thas it. Ya need ma cock so bad, yeah? Say it an I’ll give ‘im back.” He pulls back, pushing your legs off of his waist with an ounce of his obvious strength. His dick slips all the way out as he grits his teeth and you whine. He maneuvers your legs up, hooking one into the crook of his elbow and stretching it outwards. Those fucking blue eyes, clouded over with lust, roam over your entire body. He smacks the tip of his dick on your clit a few times, before smiling cruelly up at you.

“One word an I’ll fill ya up just like ya need. Only good girls get ta cum, wan’ be a good girl? What’s ma name?” Tears are slipping from your eyes from where you’ve been forced away from the cliff of your orgasm. This is decision time, give in to that pretty face and get fucked within an inch of your life? Or say nothing and be forced to watch him jerk off on your stomach before leaving you without orgasm? Pride be damned.

You take in a shuddering breath, reaching up to card your fingers through his shaggy mohawk. You drag him close enough to kiss, and he comes willingly because he knows the battle is over, victory is his. He grins devilishly, knowing his prize is right on the horizon. You brush your lips against his before locking eyes with him and practically purr out the magic words.

“Please make me cum, daddy.” Before you can even blink, he’s fully sheathed inside you. He’s gripping the fat of your thigh and stomach by the handful. Nonsensical praise and filthy dirty talk pour out of him as he watches every last jiggle of your body’s reaction to him fucking you. He may think he’s won this battle, and sure the round may be a point for John, but you also got exactly what you wanted.

Later after he’s thoroughly fucked you, and himself, into exhaustion, you lie there tucked into his side contemplating the best method of revenge. John is blissfully ignorant to your scheming mind as he runs his fingers delicately along the ridges and rolls of your back. He presses loving kisses into your hairline, content to spend the rest of his night tucked impossibly close to your plush body. Glancing up at his unfairly attractive face, an idea forms as your eyes roam the column of his love-bitten neck… seems it might be time to see how potent John’s power is when he’s finally put on a short leash…

a/n: sorry for the poor attempt at a scottish accent :/

#plus size reader #cod x reader #john mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap smut #fat reader #female reader #daddy k!nk #pet play mention

342 notes · View notes

multi-fxndom446 · 11 months

Text

Through your phone

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish x Reader

Summary: johnny 100% is the type to let his s/o go through his phone whenever they wanted.

Warning: angst at the beginning, cheating not from soap or reader, hurt/comfort, fluffy ending.

Word count: 2.4K

Just something short and sweet. I’ve been really into call of duty recently and I think Soap deserves more love that’s all. Kyle too so expect stuff for him. Horrible attempt at writing for someone who has a Scottish accent

It first started slow. Practically unnoticeable.

Your boyfriend would still wake up, still give you a kiss on the head when he woke up, still eat whatever small breakfast you prepared for him and still would tell you he loves you as he rushed out the door.

But he stopped kissing you goodbye.

You didn’t think anything of it at first because he still kissed your head when he woke up and the kiss goodbye seemed so insignificant in the grand scheme of things because he loved you.

Then he stopped kissing your head in the morning and was on his phone more often.

Again you thought it was strange but not enough to have you questioning his love for you. Maybe he was just stressed out? You hoped that was the reason.

But then he started setting his phone face down anytime you got near him. He was getting distant but still had date nights with you, still cuddled with you..until he didn’t.

One night after a day of practically not saying anything to each other at all, he went to bed and turned his back to you. You watched from your side of the bed as his phone lit up a few more times before dying out yet you still couldn’t bring yourself to look through it. Even if your entire body was begging you too.

Then the days would pass where he was out the door before you even woke up or if you woke up at the same time he’d be tying his shoes already with a quick, “I’ll be working late tonight.” As the door shut behind him, leaving you feeling suddenly cold in the place you once called home.

He grew cold and distant, there always seemed to be a space between the two of you wherever you went all the while he was on his stupid phone for “work related” issues.

On those nights he was gone for hours on end you would be talking with Johnny on the phone while you cleaned the apartment that seemed darker and darker every day. Johnny had begged you on multiple occasions to leave him, that you deserved better but you dismissed him because he loved you…right?

That night when for the upteenth time of him returning home at an ungodly hour just to crash into bed, faced away from you. This time though he seemed intoxicated and he fell asleep before he could even change and that’s when you noticed the girly perfume coming from his clothes.

Your stomach churned as you sat there staring at the man you once thought you loved and after a moment you leaned over quietly and took his phone before hurrying to the bathroom and locking the door.

When you sat on the edge of the bath you noticed he changed his lock screen from a picture of the two of you to some random Lock Screen. It made you pause to take a deep breath to try and control the tears threatening to spill.

Finally, you unlocked his phone. You were surprised it was still the same. As you looked through his apps you weren’t even sure where to start when someone labeled at ‘work’ texted.

“Had fun tonight😘 same time tomorrow?”

You honestly couldn’t even say that your heart was broken. You prepared yourself for this for way too long, endured his distance for far too long. You couldn’t feel heartbroken. You just felt numb.

Even when you went through the hundreds of text messages between him and his so-called work. It wasn’t until you hit the end and saw the date of when they first started texting each other that you realized just how done you were with this relationship.

They started texting a day after your 3 year anniversary. Everything was gone, all the feelings, all the promises..gone.

You walked back into your shared bedroom to where he was still faced away from you completely oblivious to your findings but you also had a feeling he wouldn’t feel too sorry about it.

How could he sleep so peacefully knowing he was willingly destroying your relationship this entire time.

You watched him while you picked up your phone. You brought it to your ear as it rang softly. “Hello?” You felt the sudden heartbreak hit you as Johnny's Scottish voice came through. “Lass?”

“Johnny.” You whispered and you could hear rustling on his end like he was getting out of bed. “Can you pick me up?”

That whole situation was what was playing through your head as you sat on the barstool in yours and johnnys shared apartment while you watched his phone light up every few minutes next to you.

Johnny was running around the kitchen preparing a dinner he had begged you to let him make when he finally took notice of his phone blowing up. “Can you check my phone fer’ me?” Your eyes shot up towards him but his back was turned towards you.

You felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. You didn’t want to be heartbroken again not after you got over that stupid ex boyfriend. Hell it took you almost a year later for you to give Johnny a chance, you loved him you did but the wounds were still deep.

You knew he would never cheat on you. You knew it the moment he came to get you in the middle of the night, not trying to be quiet at all as he helped you pack as much as you could and loaded it into his car. You knew he wouldn’t the moment he had brought Ghost with him to take you back to said apartment for the rest of your things the next morning and they stood by like two brooding bodyguards while your ex tried to beg for you to listen, which surprised you.

You knew he wouldn’t cheat on you when he waited patiently for you to be ready to go out with someone again.

So why was your heart in your throat?

You grabbed his phone softly, his phone lighting up again and you were greeted with your two smiling faces and an onslaught of texts from his group chat with Kyle and Simon, whom after a year and a half of dating Johnny you finally just started to call them by their real names.

“Anythin’ important?” He asked after a moment of silence. His back was still turned to you.

“It looks like it’s from Kyle and Simon.” He hummed in response before asking you to read through to see what they needed. “Apparently your captain is planning to make you all do drills when he sees you next.”

At this Johnny turned quickly, a look of disbelief on his face while he held a spoon in one hand. You almost wanted to laugh, he looked like a real housewife with the apron and all. “No bloody way. For what?!”

“Ah,” you looked back at his phone hesitating for a moment before you started scrolling further up. “Something about a prank that was pulled and now he can’t find his cigars. Simon said ‘soap fix this’”

You looked up at Johnny again to see him visibly wince. “I thought he woulda found them by now! Bloody hell, can you text back and say I’ll figure it out?”

“You want me to text them back?” He nodded like it was the simplest thing he’s asked you to do and turned back to the stove. “Are you sure?”

“Yer just replying to them before they come murder me, no pressure.” He laughed before noticing your silence and you couldn’t see the way his smile fell a little bit when he realized why you were so tense. “I’m sure.”

After a moment He heard the click of his phone shutting off and being set on the counter before he asked you to do another thing. “Can you see if there’s anythin’ else I forgot to respond to?” In all honesty he really just wanted you to look through his phone, to show you you could still trust him and that he was head over heels for you.

“Uh, another group chat with Price included sent something. Can I check?” He hummed in response and you started scrolling through to see if there was anything important. You knew any mission details are on a completely separate phone that quite literally cannot be used for anything other than talking to his task force so you never felt inclined to even ask.

“Dinners almost ready, I’ll be right back just gotta change.” He told you before running to the bedroom while you scrolled.

Anytime your name got mentioned you felt your heart clench until you read them and it was just the boys asking how you were doing. It made you feel nice. Just knowing his friends cared about you.

You’ve only known them about the year and a half you and Johnny have been dating but you’ve heard of them on multiple occasions from when you first met Johnny almost seven years ago, a year before you started dating your ex.

You couldn’t help but smile at the goofy text messages they would send back and forth until you came across a few that had you frozen to your spot.

‘Have you asked her yet?’

‘Hop to it Johnny, I’m surprised you didn’t ask her long ago.’

‘Will you tell us what she says?’ That one was price and it was followed up by a quick “of course” from Johnny before they all texted him good luck.

That was about a week ago.

Almost as if sensing your silence, Johnny came out of the room quietly. He noticed the way your mouth was agape in shock while your eyes scanned the messages over and over. And it took him a moment to realize why.

“No! Ya weren’t supposed to see that part yet!” Johnny called exasperated as he ran to you, scaring the crap out of you as you dropped his phone like it was a hot potato. “Didja read everything?” He asked after a moment of stunned silence.

He sighed when you wouldn’t even answer him and walked over to a drawer in his kitchen where he pulled out a small velvet box. “I was gonna ask ya tonight.” He mumbled softly, opening the box to reveal the most gorgeous ring you’ve ever seen.

Upon seeing the shock on your face his blood suddenly ran cold. “I didn’t just spoil it myself did I?! You did get to that conversation right?!” He was frantic but you were still frozen to your spot. It wasn’t until he brought his hands to your cheeks that you realized you were crying. “Why’re you crying Bonnie? Is it something I said? Is it too soon?”

You just shook your head as tears fell harder. “Are you serious? You want to marry me?” His eyes softened instantly and he brought you into one of his famous hugs. “Are you sure?” You whispered

“Lass, I’ve been sure I was gonna marry ya when I met ya seven years ago.” He muttered and you almost wondered if he could feel your heart skip a beat. He pulled back after a moment and picked his phone up off the floor. “Let me show ya somethin’”

You watched as he typed in a few words in the search bar of his message app and pulled up messages he still had saved between him, simon and Kyle seven years ago.

‘I swear on my mother, I’m gonna marry this girl’

‘Johnny don’t you think that’s a little soon?’ Kyle had asked him but Johnny seemed to ignore him as he sent multiple pictures of rings next.

‘Which one do ya think she’d like?’

‘Couldn’t tell you we don’t know anything about the girl.’ Ghost replied.

‘You sorry lads are gonna regret this when I force ya both to be in my wedding when I marry the love of my life’

The other two just disliked the message and that was the end.

You looked up at him in shock. “For seven years?” You whispered and he nodded softly. “Even while I was-?”

“Especially when ya were with that prick. I wasn’t gonna leave ya hangin’ to spend the rest of yer days with ‘im.” He scoffed as if thinking back to those three long years where you were in someone else’s arms.

It made you cry harder. “You waited for me?”

“Of course I did.”

“He never let me look through his phone.” You sobbed out and Johnny brought you into another hug. You felt silly, like this was such a childish thing to cry over but it just plucked all the right heartstrings for you.

“You can look through everything on my phone. I waited this long to finally be able to call ya mine. Why in the bloody hell would I screw that up?” He held on tighter. “You can even check my Snapchat, Gaz says I might have something called a snap score? Whatever the hell that means.”

He let a relieved smile come out when he heard you laugh softly before he pulled away from you and held the box back up to you. “We found each other, you just took the scenic route and that’s okay ya can make up for it by sayin’ yes.”

His eyes held so much hope in them especially when a big smile finally broke out on your face and you nodded softly, uttering a quiet ‘yes’

He felt like he could cry, “yeah?” When you nodded again he grabbed the ring and softly put it onto your ring finger, kissing your knuckles right after. “I love you.” He said pulling you into a kiss.

“I love you too.” You replied when you pulled away before a teasing smirk crossed your face. “Now let’s see what that snap score is.”

He laughed loudly as he pulled up the app, “I only really talk to Gaz and my family on there.”

“Not ghost?”

“Christ no. I’m surprised the man even has a phone.” He joked while watching you click your way through to his snapscore.

“Barely 1,000?!” You barked out laughing and he was frantic as he took the phone back. Looking between you leaned over laughing and his phone.

“What does that mean?!” He asked frantically he almost thought it was a bad thing until he noticed the way you clutched your side from laughing so hard. “Is that low?”

“So low Johnny.” You finally calmed down as you hopped off the stool. You kissed his cheek as you passed him. “God I love you. Now let’s try this dinner!”

He looked between you and his phone again before muttering, “Steamin Jesus.” To himself.

Yeah, you loved him.

#johnny soap mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty imagine #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader

658 notes · View notes

qqueenofhades · 1 year

Text

Good Omens Season 2: Some Thoughts (and also Screaming)

First, /screams

Second, obligatory disclaimer that this meta contains MAJOR SPOILERS for all six episodes. If you somehow have managed to remain virginally unspoiled, look away now, scroll past, or add "good omens s2" and "good omens spoilers" to your block list, as those are the tags I have been using for all posts and reblogs.

Third, /screams more

Okay okay okay. Deep breaths.

Anyway, so, uh, how about all that, huh? First, the good thing about the tone of the season overall was that it felt considerably darker and more adult, in a good way. We didn't have the precocious kiddies, the kitsch and literally-comphet Anathema and Newt, the so-clever narration, etc. All that was gone, which makes sense when you consider that a) the end of last season saw them reboot into an entirely new universe, and b) the fact that God has gone silent is, in fact, a major plot point for the season. We don't have Her slyly telling us the story, or indeed anything, and everyone is left to make their own judgments and take their own actions. Which, obviously, gets them into a lot of trouble, especially when Metatron (the Voice of God, aka someone acting in the belief that they're speaking for God and therefore doing terrible harm) swoops in with the ultimate buzzkill at the end of episode 6. But we'll get to that.

The downside was that the main, present-day plot (hiding Gabriel in the bookshop and trying to get Nina and Maggie to fall in love) was fairly thin, felt stretched out and at times weirdly paced, and otherwise existed mostly to get us to That Ending and the setup for season 3. But the ending was so damn good (if obviously, very painful) that I can't be TOO mad, not least because we spent six episodes with them just making absolutely no pretense about the whole thing being as incredibly homosexual as possible. I'll be honest: I did not think they were going to actually, explicitly go there. Neil Gaiman has been so consistent about "your interpretations are valid and you're welcome to read it however you want, but the only canon is what's on screen," which I think is frankly a good thing (not least since the Neil GAYman Cinematic Universe is consistently very, very good to us queers), that I just... didn't quite think they'd pull the trigger. Sir Terry is dead and can't have active input, this is based on a book published 30 years ago, maybe they didn't want to make it LIKE THAT... etc. I certainly hoped, but I didn't really think they would.

Uh. Well.

As I said in my various semi-coherent liveblog posts, I honestly don't think there was a single straight person in the entire season, among both major and background characters. Aziraphale/Crowley and Maggie/Nina are the obvious paralleling couples, but Beelzebub (using "they" pronouns and addressed as "Lord" despite presenting as femme/femme-adjacent) is clearly nonbinary and therefore also queer, and the countless gay/queer side characters were just /chefs kiss. From Job's son making a sassy pass at Aziraphale, to the random Scottish goon with Grindr on his phone (which he then gives to Aziraphale, because what is subtlety), to the interracial couple with the trans spouse at the Pride and Prejudice ball, there was just a lot of casual, unremarked, non-story-critical queer representation visible at every turn. It's like the NGCU saw the bigots wailing about Sandman season 1 being extremely gay and went CHALLENGE ACCEPTED, LET'S MAKE GOOD OMENS 2 EVEN MORE GAY.

God bless.

Obviously, Jon Hamm as Amnesia!Gabriel stole the show (he was SO fucking funny) and it was also incredibly fun to watch Miranda Richardson repurposed as a scheming demon. Nina Sosanya also reappeared as Nina the coffee shop owner, which leads us into the Maggie-and-Nina subplot. They're obviously, wildly, incredibly clearly an analogue for Aziraphale and Crowley themselves, but they're also each, crucially, a mix of both. On the surface, Maggie is Aziraphale: the plump, blonde, earnest, sweet-natured one owning a slightly dated book music shop and somewhat clueless about emotional nuances, while Nina is (also on the surface) Crowley, the hard-edged dark loner who doesn't want to open herself up to people or be spotted caring. But emotionally, Maggie is Crowley: the one openly pining, clearly besotted, only wanting to hang around their crush and do whatever they can to make themselves useful, while Nina is Aziraphale. Interested but reticent, attracted but conflicted, trapped in an abusive relationship with a demanding offscreen "lover" (Lindsay/Heaven) who tries to constantly control and shame them without ever offering much, if anything in return. By the end, they bring themselves around to what Maggie/Crowley are offering, but by then, well. We've got a lot more problems on our hands.

As I also said in my earlier posts, this entire thing has always been a metaphor for religion, queerness, and what religion -- especially abusive, fundamentalist, organized religion -- does to queer people, but they really cranked the FUCK out of that metaphor this season. Aziraphale is guilt-tripped, controlled, and shamed for his attraction to Crowley at every turn. He is torn between his imagined duty to Heaven, in all its ignorant, uncaring, bureaucratic, gratuitously cruel system that he still insists on seeing the best in because he can't bear the alternative, and the chaotic and sometimes grey but genuinely more good morality that Crowley offers him. (Can I just say, we were explicitly shown that the two of them together doing "just a little miracle" are more powerful than Heaven AND Hell combined.) And at the end, he's told that the only way he can be with Crowley -- what Metatron explicitly blackmails him with -- is if they both go back to heaven, submit themselves to the cruel system again and give up everything that has made them who they are: their home in London, their human friends, their reliance on each other, their independence, their own ways of doing things. You can be queer in this (religious) framework, but only the limited, watered-down, controlled, controllable, constantly-under-supervision kind of queer, which relies on both you and your lover "converting" back to the true faith. And if you don't cooperate, they will literally kidnap you, lie to you, manipulate you, take you from your soulmate, and force you right back into doing the one thing (destroying the world) that you never, ever wanted to do in the first place, because in their minds, that is still better than this. It's for your own good.

Ouch.

And the thing is: that's why the ending a) hits so hard and b) is so fucking painful, because of course Aziraphale agrees. He has no conception of being able to defy Heaven on his own; he has always, always needed Crowley for that. In the flashbacks, when Aziraphale is faced with an order from Heaven that he desperately does not want to carry out (such as letting all Job's children get killed), he still relies completely on Crowley to "outsmart the rules" and find a better way. Crowley is A Crafty Demon; that's what he does, and so Aziraphale rationalizes it to himself that therefore that must be fine. Even in season 1, when he really didn't want the Apocalypse to happen but initially thought it was his duty as a good Heaven footsoldier, he relied on Crowley to talk him out of it and allow him to do what he really wants instead. That's their whole dynamic in a nutshell, as exemplified in that scene in episode 2, where Crowley tempts Aziraphale with the "pleasures of the flesh" while sprawled on his back in Ravish Me mode like the giant walking gay disaster that he is. (Sorry, buddy. That beard. Can't do it.) Everything that Aziraphale's existence is, that makes him who he is, that he loves and cherishes the most (in this case, food and wine) comes from Crowley. Everything else is just background noise.

Throughout the season, what we see is Aziraphale increasingly coming around to the fantasy of being with Crowley. He's coy and flirty; he talks about "our car" and expects Crowley will let him (which he does); he wants to have a Jane Austen ball and for them to dance together (oh my heart); he even thinks, at the crucial moment, that the best way for them to be together is to go back to heaven just like they were in the beginning, once more perfect angels, as if those entire six thousand years of struggle and grief and pining and separation and falling didn't happen. And Crowley -- poor, poor, brave, devoted, heartbroken Crowley -- has just heard for the first time in said six thousand years that actually telling the person you love how you feel is an option. Maggie and Nina tell them point-blank that their whole stupid plan failed because people aren't chess pieces who can be moved and automatically achieve the desired result. And of course this gobsmacks the dearest and dumbest Ineffable Husbands, because they can't conceive of anything else. People are chess pieces in the Great War of Heaven and Hell; Aziraphale and Crowley themselves are chess pieces who have been desperately trying to get out of being moved by external forces, but that doesn't change the fact that that's what they are. They don't have volition or agency aside from that which they can sneak for themselves in brief and stolen moments. That's it.

Until, well. It's not it. They discover that this whole would-be war is actually an elaborate ruse to cover up another angel-demon romance, that of Gabriel and Beelzebub. (I'll be honest, I'm 99% sure they did this storyline because they saw the fans crackshipping them, but I appreciate a fictional narrative that values and incorporates its fans' input, rather than trying to constantly "trick" or "outsmart" them or "do what they don't expect.") And Gabriel and Beelzebub get to be together, but only by leaving their world forever. They have to desert their homes, their structures, even their own identities, and never return. And Crowley and Aziraphale are so rooted in their "precious, perfect, fragile" life in their little corner of Soho, with their bookshop and their Bentley and their dining at the Ritz (which they didn't get to do in the end because METATRON /shakes fist), that that just doesn't work. Neither of them can conceive of doing that. So Aziraphale thinks "go back to heaven and try to make the terrible system do some good and take what we can in terms of being together" and Crowley just... pours out his heart. He's ready to fucking propose. He barely stops himself from saying something to the effect of "I want to spend eternity with you." He begs, he pleads with Aziraphale to go away not in the literal sense, but the emotional/metaphysical: to finally break this toxic dependence on Heaven and tell them once and for all where to stick it. And because he is desperate to make Aziraphale understand, he finally throws all caution to the winds and recklessly, desperately, adoringly kisses him, the one thing he's wanted to do for ages and...

Gets. Shot. Down.

Ugghhhhh. I'm suffering all over again. Aziraphale wants him, hungers for it, for them, and yet he's been so abused and so conditioned by Heaven (he's still blithely repeating to Crowley's face that "Hell are the bad guys!") that he just cannot accept that kind of desperate, blind, limitless, lawless affection. He even forgives Crowley for this "transgression," just to really twist the knife, and Crowley just can't take it, can't face up to how terribly this has all gone up in flames, after he went to heaven trying to find the answer for Gabriel's situation. Gabriel, who he fucking hates. Gabriel, who tried to kill the angelic being he loves (and for which Crowley has transparently never forgiven him). And yet at one pouty puppy-eyed look from Aziraphale and a warning that whoever is harboring Gabriel might be in danger, Crowley leaps headlong into the Bentley again and rushes to the rescue while "Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy" is blaring. He stoutly protects Gabriel; he does a miracle to disguise him; he lets him have hot chocolate and stay in the bookshop; he guards him from the literal demonic horde outside. All because of Aziraphale. That's it. And then, it still doesn't work. Not only that, Gabriel's absence and decision to forego Armageddon gives Heaven the one tool they finally need to take Aziraphale away from him.

I repeat: Ugghhhhhhhh.

(In a good way. Ngl, I love this angst. This is the kind of angst my brain Thrives on, the Thematic Parallel Romantic Character Arc kind. Nom nom nom. But also: AGONY.)

I also need to talk about Aziraphale driving the Bentley, aside from the obvious metaphor of him being in Crowley's home while Crowley is in his. Last season, we had the "you go too fast for me, Crowley" scene with them sitting in said Bentley, which was Aziraphale saying he's not ready for a relationship. In this season, as noted above, we see Aziraphale increasingly embracing the potential fantasy of being with Crowley. But here's the catch: when he's in the Bentley this time, driving it, setting the pace, acclimating to the idea, he's driving his own idea of what the Bentley/his relationship with Crowley is. It's not the real thing. He plays classical music; he supplies himself sweets; he turns it yellow; he drives too slow. Crowley calls him in another old-married-couple snitfit to complain that Aziraphale's messed it up, but what Aziraphale has actually messed up (or will, by the end of the season) is far more consequential than just a car. He's changed the entire shape of their relationship to the one he thinks can make it work, and it just doesn't. It has to be them -- "we could have been... Us" -- or it's not even close to the truth. It's not worth their time.

I repeat: Ouch.

Speaking of the writers validating fan theories, I know we all picked up and screamed about on Crowley's idea of Peak Romance Guaranteed To Fall In Love being sheltering from rain and gazing into each other's eyes, which confirms that that poor bastard was indeed ass-over-teakettle gone as soon as he met Aziraphale (again) in Eden. I also need to talk about the 1941 redux, because wow. This time, the danger comes from Hell, which we see being its usual self: gleefully, pointlessly cruel, pettily backbiting, dirty, sniping, tedious, endless, determined to mindlessly destroy because They're The Bad Guys and they like it. So they blackmail, spy on, miracle-block, illicitly photograph, and try to prove that Aziraphale and Crowley are secretly a couple, right after Aziraphale himself has just had the Light From Heaven realization that he's in love (which we all also picked up on in s1). They're forcibly outing them (to speak of more Religious Queer Trauma) in order to break them up/get them into trouble with their authorities/families. Aziraphale and Crowley manage to escape it mostly by dumb luck, but Crowley having an altogether freakout, hands shaking, barely able to actually point the gun at Aziraphale even in the knowledge that it's supposed to be fake, is just... wow. He can't even fathom the idea of ever trying to destroy him in earnest, especially when he knows on some level that Aziraphale also finally just realized his own feelings. So I just need to --

/screams

Anyway, Aziraphale's entire arc this season is doing what he thinks is the right thing and then inadvertently causing harm and damage as a result. In the Edinburgh flashbacks (live slug reaction of me: SEAN BIGGERSTAFF???!!) he tries to stop Elspeth from stealing bodies and gets Morag killed and Crowley drinking the laudanum to save him (though that part with David Tennant just riffing left and right, using his natural Scottish accent, and being Tiny Crowley/Huge Crowley was hilarious). He invites his neighbors to a Pride and Prejudice ball and makes them all the target for demonic attack. And of course the Job episode: Aziraphale, horrified at Heaven's callous cruelty, desperate not to get Job's children killed, willing to go along with Crowley's tricks to save them somehow, tempted by Crowley to do the fucknasty with their angel bits eat some food and decide that he likes it. As mentioned, the whole thing about God being silent this season is a major thematic choice. The only time we see/hear God is Her communing with Job from afar. Aziraphale enviously imagines the answers he must be getting (he's not, he's baffled and perplexed), while Crowley longs beyond words to even have the opportunity to ask the question: why? Why do this? Why is this your plan?

And of course, this absence culminates in the Metatron, the Voice of God, the person arrogantly claiming that they're speaking for God and know exactly what Heaven wants, being able to seize Aziraphale by the short hairs and absolutely fuck him over. Gabriel is gone/decommissioned/eloping with Beelzebub, so Heaven needs a Supreme Leader (God apparently is no longer a factor in the equation). And what this Supreme Leader needs to do is finally unleash the Apocalypse that Gabriel decided to pass on (the Second Coming). Aziraphale needs to be punished, taken away from Crowley's influence/love, and put back under Heaven's explicit control, so Metatron spots a great opportunity to do all three at once. It's not an accident that the exact tool he uses to get Aziraphale to agree is "now you can actually be with Crowley!" Aziraphale and Crowley have been trying so hard to hide out from their respective Head Offices, but now all at once, there's this seemingly miraculous opportunity for them not to have to do that anymore! They can be together! They can be sanctioned by Heaven! They can give up all this hiding and sneaking around and lying! Isn't that better?

... As long as, of course, they give up absolutely everything that makes them who they are. No big deal. Minor catch. Probably nothing.

Metatron doesn't let Aziraphale have time to escape, or think it over, or reflect, or anything. He pressures Aziraphale to come with him immediately, or be once more subject to Heaven's implicit wrath/destruction/judgment. Believe me, Aziraphale already KNOWS he's made a huge mistake, as soon as he hears what Metatron really wants: bringing him back to unleash the Apocalypse that Aziraphale and Crowley have given up literally everything to prevent. He doesn't need time to reflect. By the time my man is in that elevator, he's well aware of what a catastrophic misjudgment he's made, and yet --

Aziraphale needs this. He has, as noted, literally always relied on Crowley outsmarting Heaven's cruel orders in order to prevent himself from having to do them. He's relied on Crowley rescuing him ("rescuing me makes him so happy," WELL BUB, IT'S BECAUSE YOU ALWAYS NEED IT). He admits to Crowley's face that "I need you!" He hates Heaven's sadistic meanness, but he has absolutely no framework, in and of himself, to defy it. When the rubber hits the road, he will crumple and try to go along with it, and now he's been put in a position where he's going to have to stand up, defy Heaven, and make the break once and for all BY HIMSELF. He doesn't have Crowley around to do it for him, he has no support, he is going to arrive in Heaven and be shuttled straight off to the Apocalypse 2.0 War Room. The only way he gets out of this is if he actively stands up, if he chooses himself and Crowley and their life, and he has to.

The thing is:

Aziraphale has lived his entire eternal existence Looking Up. Up is the direction of Goodness and Heaven. Up is where Angels go. Up is where Aziraphale comes from and where Demons and Hell are not. But now he's going Up, in a position to take over the whole shebang, and it's the last thing he wants.

So he's going to have to come back Down.

He's going to have to Fall. He's going to have to get back Below at all costs. He's going to have to finally, once and for all, understand what led Crowley to make the choice to leave Heaven and never come back. It's only then that they can possibly be together on any kind of conscious, equal, deliberate footing, claim their own agency, reject Heaven AND Hell, and try to really earn that South Downs cottage and that happy-ever-after, and it's gonna hurt so good.

Now if you will excuse me, /screams

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens s2 #good omens spoilers #ineffable husbands #look this probably could have been twice as long #but i had to stop somewhere #I JUST HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS

903 notes · View notes

sgiandubh · 11 months

Text

Pass it on

This just in:

Meet the new Scottish Youth Cinema School. Funded by Screen Scotland, EDI's Youth Theatre and S. Tailored for 12-18 years' old, just to give them a first opportunity to get acquainted & immersed in the fascinating world of cinema. With a consistent offer to boot: 9 months of weekly film classes and industry professional masterclasses. All FREE.

The partnership is very prestigious: Screen Scotland is part of Creative Scotland, the Scottish Government's body competent for supporting 'the arts, screen and creative industries across all parts of Scotland on behalf of everyone who lives, works or visits'. As such, funding is either via the Scottish public budget, or (as is customary in the UK - I successfully proposed a similar scheme in my country, a long time ago) by using part of the National Lottery's profits.

Passing it on and giving back to the community. Quietly and unassumingly - by now, we're used to his MO.

The boy who used to be an usher at Edinburgh's Lyceum Theatre. That good man bitches love to bitch about.

Well done, Sir! I see great things.

246 notes · View notes

cherryredstars · 3 months

Note

HELLO DADDIES!!HELLO DADDIES!!

if u can, can u plspls do like Graves (and Soap maybe) on how would they treat u before they start crushing??

thx very much cherry 😘😘🍒🍒 have a good day!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Pairings: Phillip Graves x gn!reader, John "Soap" MacTavish x gn!reader

Warnings: None

A/N: I miss my COD babies!!!

Unedited

Phillip Graves

This man is totally indifferent to anyone and everyone outside of his Shadows. Sorry, love, but he probably didn't know you even existed until he started showing an interest in you. Doesn't matter if you've worked in the same base for years or have been on missions together. The second he's finished talking to you and the mission is complete, he's wiping any memory of you to make room for more important things.

He's a busy man, making plans to betray his own people under the command of General Shepard. He doesn't have time to remember any and every unremarkable face that won't be important once he and his men go rogue. Don't take it personally when you have to constantly remind him what your name is and that you have, in fact, worked together before.

Takes a remarkable amount of effort for him to memorize your name once Shepard informs him that you'll be added to their plan of betrayal. He isn't exactly sure what your role will be in the grand scheme of things. As far as he's concerned, you might just be another disposable pawn. Not worth getting to know you if you'll just end up dead anyways. However, he will admit that you would make a pretty scapegoat- for the five seconds he remembers your face, that is.

Once he realizes he likes you, it's like a switch clicks in his brain. One second he is horribly unaware of who you are, the next he is too aware of your existence. Drives him crazy that he could forget a face as sweet as yours. Your name is now permanently etched into his brain. Suddenly, you are far too important to be a throwaway soldier to their cause.

Eyes that once skimmed over you are now locked onto you. Graves finds himself hovering near your seat during secret briefings, his hands subconsciously coming to brush against your shoulders as he gives out orders. Well placed pats and squeezes that leave him craving more. He's the definition of "A fell first, B fell harder".

Definitely takes advantage of the fact that he has the most unique accent out of everyone else. Sure 141 has their different posh British accents and Scottish slang, the Los Vaqueros have their rumbling Spanish words that roll off the tongue, but none of them can replicate his sweet country tang. Drives him crazy how his accent affects you, throwing out random southern sweet talking to watch each country-laced endearment heat your cheeks. Likes fluctuating his voice, easily going from a higher pitch to a lower pitch to watch how the shift in tone has you squirming in front of him.

Don't blame him if he starts throwing hints at you about his dream of owning a small little ranch in the American countryside with a few cattle and farm dogs to tend to. It's only a coincidence that the only thing missing is a sweet thing to take care of all the housework while he works the fields and does all the outdoor labor. Did he mention how good he looks sweaty and shirtless with nothing but a cowboy hat to shield him from the sun and a pair of worn out levi's disappearing into a nice pair of cowhide boots? No, well you can always experience it first-hand if you wanted to.

John "Soap" MacTavish

The biggest flirt you will ever have the pleasure of meeting. Johnny is not scared to work his Scottish charm on you any chance he gets, even if he only sees you as a teammate. He finds it hilarious when he says something that leaves you absolutely baffled or causes you to roll your eyes.

Strong believer in the fact that you would have the hardest time figuring out if he likes you or not because he acts completely the same before and after he discovers he has a thing for you. The only difference is that he’s more of a show-off and way more energetic near you, which is hard to believe is possible, but it is.

He’s super friendly, of course. Super energetic and outgoing, always coming to you and Ghost when he’s in need of a good sparring or a buddy to go to the mess with for supper. The three of you are practically glued to the hip- Ghost a mostly unwilling participant- to the point where most people see you as best friends.

Don’t be surprised when he drops off the grid when he’s on leave, though. For all the nagging and clinginess he has on base, you’d be surprised how radio silent he is once he’s away from base. Don’t go obsessing over your phone waiting for a stray call or text from Johnny, you aren’t getting anything unless it’s a clear emergency or he’s heading back to base for deployment. Calling and texting outside the base is reserved for long time boot camp friends, family, and his Birdie, sorry. Looks like you don’t meet the requirements just yet.

This man is a kicked puppy whenever he isn't near you after he realizes he likes you. Suddenly, Ghost is always way too busy with whatever lieutenants do to spar and step away from his mountains paperwork to go to the mess. Looks like you're the only person who can help him pass the time on base. Don't worry about being too tired to leave your barrack, he didn't realize how tired he was until you said you were! Did he mention that he makes a great body pillow? You should test it out to see if the rumors are true.

Suddenly, his smiles and teasing looks are way more charming than normal. Don't ask why he's giving you constant bedroom eyes as he rests his chin in the palm of his hand, just let the intended effect wash over you. Promise that even though he's not listening to a single word you're saying that you still have his full attention. If you saw his face instantly switch to a look of mourning after one of the others joked about the two of you being best of friends, just know it's your fault because you didn't defend his honor by saying the two of you are way more than friends (despite the fact the two of you aren't even in the ball park of a talking stage).

Right before leave, Johnny is practically stepping on your heels. He's blabbering about meeting up during leave and going to a nice little pub, have a drink or two in your casuals. What's that, did he forget that the two of you don't live even remotely close to each other? Silly Birdie, didn't you know he's happening to come down for a visit. He's never been to your area before, maybe you can be his tour guide. You're too busy to hangout during leave? Well, have his personal number then! He's always up for a chat when you have the time. Don't keep him waiting for a text or a call, you might just make him die from the loneliness!

120 notes · View notes

watchinghallmark · 8 months

Text

#a scottish love scheme #erica durance #jordan young #hallmarkedit

19 notes · View notes

hallmark-movie-fanatics · 9 months

Text

A Scottish Love Scheme

Premiering January 4 on Hallmark Movies Now, and on Saturday, January 13, 8pm/7c on the Hallmark Channel.

Starring Erica Durance and Jordan Young.

Part of New Years New Movies.

#a scottish love scheme #new year new movies #hallmark channel #poster #erica durance #jordan young #hallmark movies

11 notes · View notes

cod-imagines-fanfiction · 11 months

Text

Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend part 6 (2k words)

Summary: What happened to Y/N since Valeria infiltrated the Mexican Army's headquarters. Note at the end Warnings: violence Link to A03 Links to part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

[set right after the alarm went off, before Valeria arrived at the container, Y/N POV]

A chaotic cacophony raged beyond the walls of your container. It was a lot to process. The yells of men, their footsteps and commands, the gunshots, an explosion. It felt like demons had emerged from the pits of Hell and were wreaking havoc on Earth. It was all getting a bit muffled now, as though they had left the place your container was in. You supposed that the rest of the headquarters were more important to guard in a situation like this. You were a low priority in the grand scheme of things, after all. You were no drug lord, like Valeria. Or a Colonel, or a Captain, or a Commander. There was nothing really at stake resting within your container, you thought.

Other people may have felt small and despaired at the thought, but it made you happy. There were special people in this world. But they were not you. Yes, you felt important in the way that all living things are important. And yet some people were made to rule, like your wife did. You couldn’t picture Valeria ever having a quiet life. She was simply not built for it. No, she was built for this world, the world of terror and drugs. She was cunning and smart, cutthroat, and strong. She was unbreakable. And so were the others, people like Alejandro, people who forged themselves from fire and blood. The hunters of the world. Looking around the container, you felt like you belonged with the hunted. The lamb hiding with the wolves. The next best thing for someone like you was to live in the shadow of someone like Valeria. You knew that people thought that about you. That you chose the easy way out of work, that you became a drug lord’s housewife, so you didn’t have to make your living out there just like everyone else did. But that was not true. There was strength in your quietness, in your order and in your love. Somewhere beneath your tense fragility was an unyielding strength and, like the viper hiding behind a flower, it was dangerous because it was unexpected. Here you were, intimidated and frightened, and yet never giving in to the demands of tyrants. You were one of those people who, quick to laugh, are slow to anger. And yet when that anger came, it emerged unexpectedly and threatened to envelop everything in its path.

The sweetness of the breakfast bar still lingered in your mouth when you heard deliberate footsteps outside your container. You perked up at the sound and dared to hope that Valeria, or someone else from the cartel, had finally found their way back to you. The chain outside your door rattled and dropped to the floor; the door opened. You nearly jumped off your seat when the image of a human skull emerged from behind the door and looked within. It was the man with the skull mask, the one you'd met earlier. El fantasmo. His skull mask was terrifying to behold. It was a replica of a human skull that ended the lower jaw, and the rest of the image was completed by a drawn balaclava mask. Behind the mask, the skin was drawn black with paint and his dark, focused eyes looked right at you.

"She's still here, Johnny." He said and entered the room. He walked towards you, his hands reaching behind him and pulling out a set of handcuffs. "Covering you, LT," a voice said from the outside. You realised it was the man with the mohawk, the Scottish one. El fantasmo, you realised, was Lieutenant Ghost. "Get up." He said and grabbed your forearm, not gently, and lifted you out of your seat. He was massive, tall enough to tower over you and wide with muscle. His hands felt strong as he moved yours behind your back and promptly handcuffed you, tightening them enough to make them hurt. "What's happening? Where are you taking me-" "What the fuck is this?" His voice was deep, and it drowned out yours when he spoke. He reached into your breast pocket and pulled out the wrapping of the breakfast bar. He held it in his hand and the other man entered the room. "Somebody's been feeding her?" The other man, John, asked. "Looks like it. Call it in." Ghost let the paper fall on the floor. "Come here," he said and dragged you with him as he began walking out of the container. The other man spoke to his earpiece. "Soap here. Found some food wrapping on her. Look's like somebody from the inside reached her."

You felt embarrassed like you were caught doing something wrong. But they didn't blame you for it. In fact, they hardly acknowledged you at all. "Copy that, moving out now." The man said again and looked at Ghost. The masked man held your arm tighter as he dragged you after them. The sounds of gunfire hit you as you stepped out of the container and you stopped in your tracks. The absurdity of it all hit you; the violence and bloodlust, all the fighting. All for you.

“You as much as try anything,” Ghost whispered in your ear, “and I’ll break you.”

You didn’t have time to respond before he began dragging you after him with the other man trailing after you two, protecting you with his gun.

Despaired coiled around your heart like a python, tightening its grasp on you. You struggled to breathe as you were dragged into the line of fire. The rapid fire of gunshots echoed amongst the headquarters, which you had never seen. Men ran up and down the place, you stepped over fallen bullet shells which littered the floor, making it glisten like gold. You were not one of those people who found these sorts of things beautiful, someone who could polish guns and admire their beauty, the handiwork that went into them, the ways they could be customised and designed. Valeria would often tease you about it, calling you soft. Now, as you saw these guns be put to use, you could see them as nothing more than the murder machines that they were. And they were aimed right at you.

"Shit," Ghost said whilst he made both of you duck behind a wall of concrete. The other man was quick to follow behind you, firing a couple of shots in retaliation. "Why the fuck are they shooting at us?" Asked the Scottish one. "'Cause they haven't seen her yet," said Ghost. By 'they,' you guessed he meant the cartel staff. More shots were fired at you. The Scottish man forced your head down with his hand, the bullets having barely missed your head. "We're moving. Be careful, Soap, they'll try to separate us." The other man chuckled. "Let them try."

Soap fired another shot and whoever was firing at you stopped. With a pang, you realised that the other man was killed. The world blurred after that, you only moved because you were being dragged forward. Your mind could not stop wondering if you knew that man. Was it one of those that you saw come in every day to talk with Valeria? Was he one of those who, though you never met in person, had met a part of you when he ate your cooking? On special occasions, Valeria would ask you to cook a lot and invite some of her men over, a treat for those who excelled either in loyalty or performance. You were never present, but Valeria still managed to show you off when she presented all the delicacies you had prepared. Was that man there? All this death, all this blood, all this loss - for you.

A feeling of self-disgust arose and, for the first time since Alejandro puts his hands on you at the estate, you resisted. You couldn't do much with your hands cuffed behind your back, but you tugged away from Ghost, not enough to make him stop walking, but enough to make him lose balance. It wasn't because you were strong, but because, he realised, he did not expect you to do anything. You didn't stop there, you kept tugging back and forth, trying to break free of his grasp. It was not much, but this small commotion made the three of you slow down long enough for you to be recognised.

"Senora!" Someone yelled, someone from the cartel. Ghost growled angrily and slammed you against the nearest wall. "Didn't I say I'd break you if you tried anything?" His breath was hot on your skin. One of his hands was on your neck, but you felt hot too; you blazed in anger. "I'll have you killed!" You yelled at him. Surprise flickered behind the lieutenant's eyes. It made you even angrier, how dare he be surprised that you hated all this? That you could be threatened again and again, that you would be bruised and exhausted and just sit there and take all of it. How complacent did they think you were? "You hear me? I'll have all of us killed!" He didn't take his eyes off you as he spoke. "Soap, clear the way forward." But there was no reply.

Both of you broke from your locked gaze and looked to the side in surprise - the other man was not there. You realised how quiet it suddenly was, an oppressive silence that made you even more painfully aware of how trapped you were beneath Ghost's body. Rapid footsteps sounded close to you and suddenly, Ghost was slammed to the ground by someone. "¡Por aquí!" Someone said and grabbed your hand. "Senora, you okay?" You didn't know who he was, but you knew he was one of your people. "Yes," was all you could say as you ran away with him. You only caught a glimpse of Ghost being tackled by multiple people, struggling beneath the weight of all these men.

"This way, Senora. You know the way." He said and eventually stopped running. You looked around and saw, on the floor, a hole. "El Sin Nombre said you know how to use this. I'll be right behind you, Senora. Our people are on the other side." Hearing those words made you so happy, you almost cried. "What about Valeria? Is she here?" You asked. The man saw the tender look in your eyes, the desperation behind it. It was too much, he looked away. "She'll be right there, Senora." And with that, you plunged yourself into the cold darkness of the tunnel. You moved far enough for the man to come in after you. You had no torch on you, after all. But the man never followed through. "Senor?" You asked, but there was no reply.

All of a sudden, you became aware of how bad it smelled in there. But it was not the smell of dirt or of animals. It was the stench of cigars, a smoke that threatened to choke you but yet held a sweetness that was unlike the sharp smell of regular cigarettes. A light flickered in the darkness and you realised there was someone smoking in there, waiting. "Yeah," said a deep, British voice. He took a long puff from his cigar, the orange light burning brightly in the darkness that enveloped both of you. From that little flicker of light, you could see two piercing blue eyes staring at you, and a face covered by a well-groomed beard. The world above was muffled, gone.

"I'll take it from here, sweetheart." He said and lunged for you. Only darkness followed.

When you finally came to, the day was already over. Groggily, you awoke to find yourself in a transportation van, your hands and feet shackled by chains. Opposite you sat the man you saw before, the one with the cigar. "Sorry for the trouble, miss. But you know how these things are." Captain Price saw the frantic, lost look on your face and felt something he hadn't felt in quite some time; pity. "You're being transferred to prison. You'll be settled soon enough, new clothes and everything." You didn't even look at him, though he knew you could understand him. Instead, you gazed outside the window. The Captain only ever heard you say one word:

"Valeria."

"If it makes you feel any better, she's in the van behind us."

Note: I'm struggling with Y/N, I feel like I made her too passive, even though that's kind of what I was going for with her. In the next part, she gets reunited with Valeria (finally!) We're reaching the end of this fic, thank you for reading so far x I'm struggling with writing at the moment because I started my master's and I'm having some health issues, but I'll try my best! I'm also thinking of doing a spin-off with Valeria and Y/N on how they met and ran away.

tag list: @justmare @silas-222 @m0rganit3 @blarba-girl @sleepiemain @caffeineliker @ashy-kit @00ops1e @lesvii @therapyneeds @lez-zuha @starre-eyes @7smexy7diva @hello-kitty-festival @konigmeu @cassiecasluciluce @gay-ass-country-boy @starwars-theclonewhore @bi-witch-bxtch @somnoslvt @ashthepillow @b3ns0ne @idiotwrites @danart501 @deakyspuff @mistresssiri @angethehimbosimp @@sae1kie @00ops1e

#cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty valeria #cod imagine #valeria garza #cod valeria #valeria garza x reader #valeria x female reader #valeria x reader

390 notes · View notes

saltofmercury · 2 years

Text

Perception

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader

A/N: I hope I did this some justice!!! Brown eyes are amazing 🫶🏻

"Perception"

“You gon’ miss me when I’m gone, hen?”

Leaning against the kitchen counter, one arm propping him up as he drank chocolate milk, Johnny eyed you in your living room organizing books. Sitting on the floor, legs criss crossed, as you continued to toy with a color scheme for your books. You peeped your head back and rolled your eyes.

You scoffed,

“Yeah who’s going to kill the spiders?”

You were in no mood to talk. The little back and forth chase between Johnny and yourself had been happening for over 3 months. What you had planned to be a one night stand, ended up unraveling as multiple occurrences, multiple meetups between you two. It seemed as though the universe had different plans for you.

You had long forgotten about him. (Not really) Johnny had lingered by your door holding on your chin with his massive hand, towering over you, kissing you repeatedly.

“Thanks bonnie, fucks sake you’re really something else.” Lingering on your lips until 4AM.

With that he had disappeared.

A week after your hookup you had gone into a coffee shop to indulge in their chocolate chip cookies. Sure enough, Johnny was there having a cup of tea, mouth full of a dry scone. He peered right at you as you had paid, motioning you to come sit.

“Fancy seein’ you here. Are you stalking me? Was our night that good?” He smirked, towering over you.

“You’re in my country Johnny,” you said, rolling your eyes. The audacity of this man. He should’ve been gone by now.

“Good seeing you!” You grabbed the cookie you came for and walked out.

The second instance he had been filling his gas tank in the jeep he drove.

Your machine didn’t take Apple Pay, so you walked into the store to pay. After walking out, Johnny was there, already closing the fuel cap letting out a whistle as he eyed you up and down.

“Swear we got to stop meeting up like this, pet”

Your back radiated goosebumps. Just how small was this fucking city that you couldn’t hide from your one night stand?

“We’re not meeting up, I’m getting gas.” You turned your back and you loaded the gas in your car.

He laughed at you. “Aye, so am I”

“I’ll see you soon then?” he hopped in his car and drove away.

You finished getting gas and then hopped in your car. A candy wrapper had been placed on your windshield. You got out again and noticed it said “Johnny xxx-xxx-xxxx”

You scoffed again. Was he toying with you? The man was a persistent flirt if anything. You tucked the phone number away in your jacket pocket. If he wanted to fuck you so badly it would be on your terms.

How great that turned out.

Johnny practically made himself at home, visiting you Friday night and Sunday nights. “Ending the week with an orgasm and starting the week with one” — was the stupidity he told you.

Then it became “let’s make Haggis, treat you to a real Scottish meal.”

The national dish of Scotland that you had immediately regretted putting in your mouth. You suggested cooking a “proper meal” for him next time.

“Wha’ you gon make me a hamburger hen?” He pushed you slightly, making you blush.

“Fuck off I’m not a hamburger person”

“Aye and I love hotdogs very delicious” he continued to tease you. He never once saw you cook.

When you made him a pot roast, it ensured having him around all the time. He made small jokes about keeping you around and possibly marrying you.

“Need me a hen that can cook”

He saw how it made you blush and how it also infuriated you when he said things like that. Another way he loved getting under your skin.

Now you are here.

You were going back to the sadness, bitterness, and loneliness that haunted you at night.

Part of you wanted to speak up, tell him that you at least wanted communication when he left, but knowing him, he would dismiss your idea and talk about something else.

He spoke again from the kitchen,

“God… I think I’ll miss the milk here.”

You peered up from the book you were trying to place and spoke up. Defeated, you gave in.

“That’s all you’re going to miss?”

Johnny heard it in your voice. The small crack that emitted at the end. Your back was still turned and you focused on biting the edges of your tongue to not let the tears fall down your face.

He didn’t want to be honest and scare you away, so he said something else.

“And maybe your Sunday roast…”

You quietly excused yourself to the bathroom. “Hah, I’m going to have a shower.” Maybe the heat of the water would hurt you more than what he just said.

Neither of you brought it up again after that. Johnny apologized to you later that night, in only physical form, making you moan and shake in bliss. He kept the light on to watch your face release the tension from earlier.

“Watch me, pet. Look at me, I'm here.”

You made eye contact with him, brows furrowed as he was inside you. He looked at your eyes. Brown and spellbinding. He had always gone for the blue eyes, icy snowflakes that blinded him. However he noticed your brown eyes—loved that he was so hypnotized by them. Hues that brought him comfort and a place to be at home. God, how he would miss them, pacifying him and the simplicity of them, that made him feel so comforted and loved. He drowned himself in your eyes every morning, and swallowed them in his heart every night.

Two days later “Johnny” became “Soap” and went off in Asia to track down someone.

On the mission as they debriefed their next execution, Gaz, Ghost, and Price sat around a campfire. Once the team had a sure plan, they got sidetracked and began to talk about plans after this mission.

“Got any plans, Soap? You’re always traveling around the world.”

“Aye, might go to the states again,”

“Which American got you this time, MacTavish?”

Soap kicked the dirt beneath him and laughed heartily.

“Aye Gaz, you know me too well.”

He hit the dirt with the toe of his boot and placed his hands on his tactical vest.

“Should’ve been a one night stand, but man those eyes kept popping out everywhere.”

Gaz looked at him, attempting not to laugh. Every woman or man Soap met, he fell in love with. It was hard to take him seriously.

“Let me guess blue?”

“Not at all mate, it was kind of like Simon’s eyes”

“You mean Ghost?”

“Aye you ever had a haver with Ghost and see his eyes?”

“They’re brown”

“You don’ get it mate.”

Soap was frustrated. How could he describe your eyes that brought him comfort and warmth? It brought mellowness to him and welcomed him home.

Reminded him of the chocolate ice cream he shared with you one afternoon and how the bright shirt you wore made them pop out like the caramel candies he sucked on as a kid.

They reminded him of the sugary goodness he drank at your apartment while watching you do mundane things.

He would marvel at them when he told you to look at him as he thrust himself inside you. The sun speckled on your face as it heightened flecks of gold honey-amber, and brown swirling inside them. That’s what made him gush, that’s what made him come back and stay.

How simple your eyes were but consoled him and brought solace.

They would also bring fear to him when he took a joke too far and they would turn russet or deep brown, hiding your pupil.

“Aye…lass it’s a joke.”

The intimidation coming out in his voice. But how hungry he felt to come closer to you in such a vicious and wild state. He loved when they turned almost obsidian, you on top of him holding on and crying his name out.

He mentally cursed himself for giving you space in his head. The danger he could put himself in — distracted by you. He knew he had to end it. Fuck being this lovesick over someone in another country. He finished his mission, deployed back to his country.

A month had passed since the mission.

Plowing through the countryside, he spotted an oak tree. Its branches were wild and open. It held some leaves on its branches, but grew unruly high in the air. The brown trunk, the earth surrounding it, all different shades of brown, all emotions parallel from your eyes.

He rested by it. He missed you a lot today.

He missed waking up before you, drinking your chocolate milk while prepping your “bean water” coffee.

He missed coming to your bed, placing the coffee by your nightstand, climbing on top of you, legs on either side of you as he watched as you slowly woke up to the aroma of the coffee.

He laughed because, the sun couldn’t wake you, him watching a tv in the room couldn’t wake you, but the scent of coffee could drag you out of unconsciousness.

“Aye, so that’s what drags you away from death?”

You sat up, as he shifted back a little, still on top of you. Watched you drink your coffee and your eyes lighting up from the rays of the sun. A velvet shade of amber, lighting up your face, and making Johnny mesmerized.

He mumbled and thought to himself,

“That’s my kind of heaven right there.”

“What?”

“Coffee’s real heaven aye?”

He came back to the city, heading into a coffee shop, ordering a scone that wasn’t as dry as the coffee shop by your apartment.

He trudged home, watching and hoping the Earth beneath him attempted to swallow him whole. The guilt of leaving you. The sorrow that filled his stomach. When he arrived home, it didn’t feel like home. Your eyes weren't there to greet him.

He said he would be back within two months. Four months have passed. After the third month you continued your life without him. Your tears dried up, your bathroom no longer had his hair around. His milk carton is spoiling in the fridge, his socks with hamburgers on it are still in your drawer, along with the blue hoodie he left you that night.

Those are the only things that you hold onto. A stone in your stomach settles knowing he’s not coming back.

You wouldn’t know how to reach him anyway.

You wake up thinking how easy it was with him here. How much fun you had, getting a glimpse of domesticity with him. How you folded laundry with him, made dinners together, made love with the lights on because he loved seeing you unfold and watching your eyes disappear to a deep chocolate brown from euphoria.

Now you’re sitting in your apartment sorting the books you sorted four months ago, turning back every ten minutes hoping to see him raiding your fridge for the chocolate syrup.

Instead, a knock at the door—

You get up and open it.

Johnnys standing there, white, pink, and orange flowers in hand.

“Got dropped off in the wrong country, pet.”

He’s standing there in front of you, smirk on his face. He’s not telling you he almost ran away from you.

He hands out the flowers to you, you’re in disbelief.

You study him wordless, trying to get your brain to connect to your tongue.

He jumps back into your apartment, searching through your cabinets and fridge.

“You don’t have milk, aye…but you’ve got my syrup.” He clutches the bottle in the air.

You sigh out, “...yeah”

He looks at you, he sees the bewilderment on your face. He grabs your face and peppers kisses all over it before prying your mouth open with his, indulging in your tongue. He holds your face in between his hands, the lights in your apartment didn’t do your eyes justice.

“Over a hundred days without you, pet.”

“One hundred and twenty…” you breathe out.

He came back. He actually came back.

He’s got on a chain, a blue topaz stone hanging down and a darker yellow topaz right next to it.

When you ask him about it, he shrugs, says it so casually,

“I couldn’t find a gem dark enough for your eyes, but er–”

He holds the two gems in his fingers, shifting in his brain all the images he’s saved of your eyes.

“Just reminds me of us.”

#call of duty #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #john mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #johnny mactavish x you #iohnny mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mw 2

523 notes · View notes