mactavishwritings

[mactavishwritings]

got my monthly ghost thought so here u go

cw: pussy slapping, implied dacryphilia, manhandling, reader is caught masturbating, afab!gn!reader

simon really didnt mean to walk in on you like that. he usually knocks when you have the bedroom door closed, especially if hes just come home and wasnt sure if youve heard him come in. this time he didn't, hes still not used to knocking in his own apartment. he had earphones in, not hearing what you had been doing behind the closed door - but the second he saw he froze in the doorframe.

he caught you getting off on his bed, underwear pulled aside and blanket kicked off of your sweaty body - apparently you'd been at it for a while - and fingers working your clit relentlessly. he chuckled quietly and opened his mouth under the black medical mask to say something, but the words got stuck in his throat when you raised your hand and landed a harsh smack on your own pussy, crying out in response. it took him a hot second to realise what you just did, his brain definitely took longer than his cock - he swears he's never been fully hard this fast.

he knew what he had to do, right then and there. stalked over to you, his steps quiet (as quiet as a man his size could be at least), breath held. you were so in your head that you didn't even realise he was there until it was too late, his big hand coming down on your already puffy cunt in a sharp smack. you yelped in pain and closed your legs, startled from him appearing out of nowhere, but before you could say anything he already had a big hand wrapped around your ankle, pulling you towards the edge where hes standing. out of reflex you try and pull away, your body in fight or flight due to adrenaline and your brain not able to process what's happening quick enough. it makes him chuckle.

"oh no, where do you think you're going sweetheart?" he coos, holding your leg up by your ankle, forcing you to lift your ass off the bed a bit, legs spread. he eyes you over, gives you a moment to process, to stop him if you want to, but once you realise what's happening you give a giggle.

"Simon!" you laugh, shyly pulling the blanket over yourself, much to his dismay. he grips it with his free hand and throws it on the ground, shaking his head.

"don't cover yourself up now, much too late for that." he huffs, shaking his head. "saw what you were doin' to the poor thing." he grumbles, fingers running over the damp flesh gently, spreading it apart - before bringing his hand down with a sudden smack. you shriek, hips bucking up before you laugh again, he raises an eyebrow in amusement. "you think that's funny, do you?" he asks in a mock-strict tone, smiling behind the mask he's still wearing from going to the store. "let's see how long you'll be laughing for."

"huh?" your laugh dies down a bit as you realise the weight of his words. he grins wider.

"you heard me." is all he says as he moves onto the bed behind you, dropping your ankle and instead lifting you under your armpits, pulling your back against his chest. you couldn't pull away if you wanted to, his hands too strong, too quick. before you even know it, your legs are draped over his, forced open, arms held against your own body as he wraps one arm around your torso tightly. "dont bother keeping quiet, I wanna hear when you start crying."

[mactavishwritings]

cw: fluff, afab reader x price, grumpy x sunshine, older man x younger woman

HEADCANON: The team meets Price’s missus. Not expecting it to be a sweet little thing like you

PAIRING: John Price x reader

Captain John Price was a lot of things.

Gruff. Sharp. Tactical. A man who could disarm a room -- or a bomb -- with the same deadpan focus. So when he finally, finally, agreed to let the team meet his wife at a casual pub night, everyone had… expectations.

Soap pictured someone tough -- maybe military herself, someone who could handle the Captain’s brand of grumpy affection. Gaz bet five quid she’d be ex-SAS too. Ghost said nothing, but even he imagined someone stern, serious, maybe with a scar or two.

They were not prepared for what actually walked through the door.

She was wearing a pink sundress. A little cardigan. And carrying a fucking tote bag with a bloody cartoon duck on it.

Bright smile, eyes sparkling, practically skipping over to Price -- who visibly softened the moment he saw her, like someone had pulled the batteries out of a bomb.

"Hi, darling," she chirped, throwing her arms around his neck.

Price -- their Captain Price, grizzled and grumbling and terrifying to entire warlords -- bent down and kissed her forehead like he was the bloody Prince of Wales.

The entire team stared. Mouths slightly open. Brains short-circuiting.

Soap recovered first, elbowing Gaz hard enough to almost knock his beer over. "That's nae his wife, aye?," he whispered, scandalized. "That’s his — his niece. His... his fairy goddaughter, maybe."

Price gave them a look over her head that very clearly said: say one more word and die.

Introductions were made. She was sweet, bright bloody decades younger than Price, asked about their hobbies, and listened earnestly even when Soap described "this absolutely sick drift he pulled in an APC."

But as the evening wore on, something strange began to happen.

She asked Ghost if he liked lemon drizzle cake -- and then pulled out a homemade one. Wrapped in that same floral-patterned foil that they've seen Price carry around in meetings despite Ghost's insistent shake of the head. Said it was “a little treat for the boys yeah? Just a taste love”

She scolded -- gentle parented -- Gaz gently for leaving his pint too close to the edge of the table. “You’ll knock that over, darling. Move it here, where your elbow won’t catch it.” She pulled a crossword puzzle out of her bag, a newspaper crossword, and started muttering about how “they just don’t make them like they used to.”

Soap caught her humming along to a 70s soul track that only Price ever put on the pub jukebox. Ghost watched her separate her chips from her mushy peas with the same quiet care his gran used to.

And suddenly, despite the pink sundress and the tote bag and the glowy, Disney-princess energy -- they all realized:

She was old at heart.

She might’ve looked like she belonged on some cozy campus or fairy-tale book cover, but she moved through the night like someone who’d been here before. Patient. Observant. Steady. She had Price’s tea order memorized ("two sugars, no milk"), reminded him to take his vitamins -- "m'serious John you have to stop missing your medication dear" -- with the same tone one might use to scold a naughty golden retriever.

Price. Captain John fucking Price. Grumbly. Growling. Feared by half the globe, didn’t argue. Just muttered, “Yes, love,” and obediently took the tiny chewable multivitamin she pressed into his hand like it was ammunition.

Soap nearly choked on his beer.

She fussed over Ghost’s sleeves being damp. Asked if Gaz was getting enough fiber. Told Soap she’d found the cutest mug that looked like a little sheep and bought it for him -- “because you always remind me of a sheepdog, with all that energy!”

They were under siege.

By the end of the night, Ghost. Big bad, massive, hulking, and brooding Ghost -- who once broke a man's wrist for looking at him sideways. Cleared through a room with just a pistol. Battered through a man in half -- was sitting very still as she gently lint-rolled his hoodie. Tutting about the pub cat’s fur.

When they finally left, Price tucked her under his arm, pressed a kiss to her temple, and shot the team a look over her head that said, without words: She’s my peace. Touch her and I’ll bury you under the bloody barracks.

And every single one of them -- elite, seasoned, hardened soldiers -- nodded in perfect silence.

Soap leaned in to Gaz, still stunned. “Mate,” he whispered. “She’s got 'im on a leash, nae doubt about it”

Gaz nodded back, wide-eyed. “Pink. Fluffy. And bulletproof”

Even Ghost, unflinching, unbothered and stoic Ghost, gave them the sharpest, most solemn nod of agreement in his life.

Because clearly, Captain Price didn’t command that squad.

She did.

masterlist

[mactavishwritings]

OMG I HAVENT SEEN YOU IN FOREVER HOW ARE YOU!?

omgggg guys i know!!! a lot has happened in the past year tbh lol

basically, i was in an awful relationship with a 31 year old man child (i’m 23, 20 when we started dating) some of you may remember when i posted about this guy 2 or so years ago! he was manipulative and long story short, i had to call the cops on him a few times after i broke up with him.

so as of today, i am working at a much better place, i’m dating a guy who’s taking me to aruba next month????, and im so much happier and healthier.

i cannot guarantee how much i’ll write now but i do have more motivation lol. i hope you guys have all been doing good. idk if there’s anyone left in the MW2 fandom but ill still write for it

[mactavishwritings]

soap who watches pornstar!reader religiously, he cannot help but want to get his hands on you and show you what a real man fucks you like, instead of these stupid actors. he knows youd never just say yes if a random fan asked you to collab so what does he do?

he makes an onlfyfans too and speedruns his way to the fucking top, to the point it would be stupid of you to decline him.

[mactavishwritings]

Here I am, bringing this ask up because my god, what a missed opportunity to do bodyguard!ghost?? Forgive me. It's been so long since I wrote this but I recently had a great idea for this concept. I will say my idea is for a modern!reader x bodyguard!ghost. Reader is inspired by Tate McRae bc I love her.

You were only 21 when your song went viral and suddenly you were bigger than you had ever dreamed of. Suddenly you were meeting with record labels and management teams. There was PR trainings, dance lessons, interviews with magazines and late night shows, and it felt like everything was speeding by.

As your fame continued to grow, so did the attention you received. It was the scariest part of stardom, always having to look over your shoulder, worried about whose attention you were grabbing. Even 5 years into being famous, you were always on edge.

It was early in both of your careers when you two had met. Simon had just graduated and you were about to launch your first album. His school specially recommended Simon to your team, having graduated top of his class. He could sense your constant anxiety after the first 30 minutes together. Your manager explained to Simon that a few months prior, you had a major accident with a stalker. Simon's jaw clenched as he watched for your reactions as your manger gave him the details.

It was agreed that Simon would be your head bodyguard when you were in public and on call when you were home. It was hard to get use to him being your shadow, the black surgical mask giving him an intimidating look. As your careers developed, you two became close. His protective nature made you feel secure and he was so proud of how independent and strong you became. Simon couldn't help the attraction he felt for you, watching you dance across the stage with ease. Your songs were all he listened to, he was well known by you fans, and you always asked for his opinion.

You weren't sure when the lines blurred. He started staying with you longer, sometimes spending the night. You often were the one to ask him to do so, feeling safer when he was around. You knew you were in deep when you couldn't help but notice Simon was the main inspiration for your songs.

Simon was the one to break the boundary 3 years in. You asked him to listen to a new song you were working on (think dandelion by Ariana) and he jokingly asked if it was about him. Your reaction told him everything, turning bright red and furiously shaking your head. Simon stood, slowly grabbing your wrist. You were viciously trying to deny his comment when he pressed his lips against yours.

Now he watches you create songs, music videos, choreography, and whole albums about how much you loved him and how good he fucks you. Singing these songs on stage to millions, secretly declaring your love for him to the entire world.

Can I get a ghost imagine or headcanon

When the reader is a famous 90s singer

i think he probably wouldn’t date someone super famous bc of how well he keeps his identity hidden.

but i do think he may fall hard for the cute club singer at the military bar the team frequents. she sings old ww2 military songs and jazz songs. she’s well loved by the community and wears cute little dresses.

ghost watches you preform, just entranced. he’s drawn towards your voice and essentially will act like your bodyguard when you two are together. will escort you out of the club, hand on the small of your back. you dedicate each song to him in your dressing room and he will watch all the performances he can while hes home from missions. he gets you new outfits to perform in and new jazz shoes

he loves that you’re his little song birdie

[mactavishwritings]

anyone still follow this account?

[mactavishwritings]

wait holy shit guys. happy 2 years!!!

[mactavishwritings]

BARK BARK BARK BARK

[mactavishwritings]

dark!joel miller x innocent!reader

age gap - corruption (18+ themes)

once again, i will write what i want to and i don’t wanna hear it.

joel miller who can’t help himself around you. it’s the zombie apocalypse for god sake. morals went out the window years ago, no one around to say what’s wrong for him to do.

you were so pretty, working in a makeshift shop on the corner across the street from his house. he could see a clear line from his window into the front window; a perfect view of you everyday.

it was clear, even from this distant, you were 30 years younger than him. maybe even younger, he couldn’t fully tell. all he knew was the craving that itched and burned. his mind was filled with thoughts of you that, given any other lifetime, would be considered immoral. but it wasn’t any other lifetime. it was the zombie apocalypse and he could die tomorrow.

you knew of joel; knew what his reputation was. you knew of elle; she frequented your mom’s shop since her and joel settled here. the shop’s goal was so bring back a level or normalcy that people were missing, aching for even. you were happy and content to supply it.

joel laid awake at night, just thinking. thinking of what he could do or say to win you. your eyes were always full of hope and happiness that made his blood travel south. you had the spark he lost years ago.

he knew no one would say anything to him. he was known as a fighter, a survivor. in times like these, it was so important to have a figurehead like him. he hated the title and never wanted it. but he could use it. use it for his advantage.

joel started coming by the shop more and more. you found out he lived across the street from, that he wasn’t elle’s dad like you thought, that he spent his time usually by himself, and that his eyes were the most beautiful and intimidating you’d ever seen. something was lying behind them, you just couldn’t figure out what.

you felt yourself being drawn to him, counting down the minutes, seconds even, until his usual arrival to your store where he’d by the same bottle of whiskey. you figured he must just really like the taste.

“you ever tried this stuff?” he asked you one day and you giggled. “yuck. no way. my mom says it’s gross.” joel raised an eyebrow and leaned against the counter, coming so close to you that the smell of him made your legs weak. “you always listen to your mom?”

that’s how you ended up at his place after you closed down for the day. “it’s only across the street! safest walk you’ll find.” he made a promise he wouldn’t keep you long.

it was getting late when the alcohol took affect. he assured you that elle wouldn’t be home tonight, she was spending the night at one of her friend’s house. you felt like you were sitting on jelly, your body felt unstable.

joel kept a firm hand on the back of your neck. it was a friendly touch you managed to convince yourself. he was just being friendly as he gently squeezed your neck in a way that made you tingle.

he watched you. he was good at reading you, observant. he watched as your body relaxed, he watched your thighs twitch and squeeze together when he shifted closer on his couch. he knew it was wrong as he pushed the glass of whiskey the two of you were sharing against your lips, encouraging you to take another swig.

your mind was swimming. you hadn’t ever been drunk before, let alone be alone with a man. your mom would be disappointed tomorrow morning when you inevitably get sick. you reached for joel’s arm for support as you attempted to stand.

“where you going? the party is right here.” joel laughed as he helped you up. “wanna….pee….” you struggled to get out and he shook his head at you. “i think that was rather rude. shouldn’t you ask permission?” he asked, his tone becoming dark.

your face flushed bright red and you grabbed onto his sleeve. “ ‘m sorry!” joel watched as your legs pressed together, either in pleasure or to hold your bladder. joel grabbed your waist to pull you closer to him. you looked up at him with wide eyes that held such affection and need that joel almost burst right there.

he held all the power in that moment. your desperation and want was intoxicating for him. your innocence drove him crazy, the little whimper stuck at the back of your throat pulled him in. you blinked a couple of times and pushed yourself closer. “may i please go to the bathroom?” you whimpered.

“you want help?”

[mactavishwritings]

coming back from break slowly but here’s this for now. i am going to start writing what i want and i don’t really care 🤷‍♀️

anyway. here’s simon x reader A/B/O

simon riley who fully planned on being alone for his life. having a mate didn’t excite him really. he didn’t have that ‘alpha desire’ for one.

reader who was scared to mate with someone. you didn’t want to be stuck, reduced to being someone’s mate for the rest of your life. you wanted more.

simon riley who felt it the moment you two met. he could feel something in his brain change and he knew it. he felt something pull towards you but he fought it.

reader who could hear your heart crying out for simon, for that primal need to make him happy. you were terrified what that would mean. once an omega was mated, it was against the rules for them to work.

simon riley who could smell the turmoil in your head. he could tell there was something troubling you, it made the air sour.

reader who avoided simon for the longest time. you didn’t want to face the truth that you met your mate. granted he was super hot….and huge….and strong.

simon riley who wanted to give his little omega space to come to terms with the whole thing. if you were to be his, fuck fate, he wanted it done right.

reader who cautiously said yes to one date. only one. just to prove that fate could be wrong. spoiler alert, fate couldn’t have been more right.

simon riley who suddenly had a purpose. a reason. most of his days were spent hoping that you were okay.

reader who slowly learned to trust simon. you slowly let your guard down.

simon riley who was happy to let you take things slow.

reader who finally decided that maybe being mated wasn’t so bad. all you wanted was to bare his children and make him happy.

simon riley who mated you as soon as you gave him the green light. his smell would forever be on your skin.

reader who wouldn’t have it any other way.

[mactavishwritings]

141 -> f1

simon is max verstappen. the pressure to be the best of the best, with a father w unrealistic expectations.

johnny is lando norris. the smile. the jokester. secretly very good at what they do. heartthrob

kyle i’ve compared to lewis hamilton but also daniel ricciardo. smart, focused, and driven to prove themselves.

john is fernando alonso or sebastian vettel. mature, but still on their a game. firey and ready to defend themselves

alejandro is charles leclare . passionate and pushes themselves more than they should.

rudy is carlos sainz. passionate and ready to defend the team whenever needed. supports his teammate always.

[mactavishwritings]

hey. i’m burned out

i wanna write for other fandoms beside cod (i will still write for cod) but i have so many ideas.

so please feel free to request non cod characters. i’ll update my guidelines to include everyone i’m willing to write for, yeah?

thanks for understanding 💕

[mactavishwritings]

141 x stoner!reader (i know it’s illegal in the UK. humor me)

ghost: he will sit w you in the bathroom as you just rip on the pen and gets second hand high from the fumes.

soap: is the type to come w you to the dispo so you can use his military discount. doesn’t often partakes but will do a 10mg gummy and thinks he’s dying

gaz: he will smoke w you bc “pretty girls don’t roll their own blunt”. has a decent tolerance (ignore military regs) and prefers dabs/dab infused pre rolls

price: will not partake but makes jokes with you. “maybe your head wouldn’t hurt if you didn’t smoke all that devil’s lettuce!” type mfer. you got him to try cbd oil and he almost puked

poly: you all lounge in some chairs in the backyard before dinner so you get high and it’s a nice moment for you all to relax together. you all will occasionally have high nights where you all get high and you and gaz end up taking care of the others

[mactavishwritings]

Hii how are you!!! Any new hobbies or anything interesting going on? That sounds so creepy but I’m not trying to be weird I just like learning about hobbies and things that people find interesting 😭

OH IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED. IM DESPERATE TO TALK ABOUT FORMULA 1

yes i have recently discovered f1 and i love it :-) carlos and charles are my favs so far but i do love daniel and oscar. also you hate to hear it but alonso is hot. i will not accept criticism about it

still kinda in the COD fandom. lewis and elliot looking similar helps! i like to imagine gaz as an f1 driver sometimes :-)

i’m trying to get back into makeup bc my job is making me hate it recently so i’m wanting to try new things w it

bridgerton’s newest season comes out in two days and i could faint i’m so excited

recently switched all my body products from cherry scented to pistachio scented! also got billie eilish’s perfume and it’s very nice. love the vanilla

finally restocked my self tanner too

i like this :-) feel free to ask me more

[mactavishwritings]

yes i’m learning spanish

but my favorite f1 driver is monacan so maybe i should switch 🤷‍♀️

[mactavishwritings]

nibble (photo ref here!!)

[mactavishwritings]

Aftermath of poly141 x reader after soap died? Or not died prob heavily injured🤭🤭

Gaz was the one who called you. It was the middle of the night and the boys weren't due for another few days. The call cut the silence and you jolted awake. You answered the call, half awake, but the way Kyle's voice had a sense of panic that lit every nerve ending on fire.

It was 3:49 am, and you were speeding down the road to get to the base. This ride was always so calm, you were used to how the buildings lined the street. They almost seemed to bend with you as you flew past them.

A car was waiting for you at the front gate. A friend of John's was waiting for your arrival and waved you in. You felt like you were stepping on glass, just waiting for something to break as you were driven to the base hospital bay. You felt like you were floating above it all, watching yourself fall into Simon's arms as John explained what happened.

You were struggling to hear him, everything sounding so echoed. You could make out the words 'head trauma' and 'lost a lot of blood'. Simon was supporting your weight, needing something to ground himself. He needed something, someone, to focus on to distract his mind from what he saw. You held on to him as they guided you into a room, the white walls blinding you as you approached a curtained-off section. It was in the back half of the room, the curtains seeming all-encompassing as you passed through.

Your Johnny was lying on the other side of the curtains, tucked under a thin sheet. His chest was rising and falling, his eyes were shut and he had white gauze wrapped around his head. You sat next to him as the others shuffled in. Kyle sat next to you, his arm reaching out to wrap around your waist loosely. Simon sat on the edge of the bed, watching you and Johnny closely. John stood behind Simon, a hand resting on the man's shoulder.

You all sat silently for a moment before you sighed, dropping your head. "He's breathing..." You mumbled and Kyle squeezed you tightly. "Yeah, yeah he is." You all let out the breath that you could not seem to release and take in a new, fresh breath. He was breathing, that was all you could ask for.