#cod mw2 short fic

[snootlestheangel]

What Am I?

Short SoapGhost fic: angst, hurt/comfort(?) The two are trapped, Soap is very injured, and Ghost is running low on ammo to cover their retreat.

Soap winces as Ghost tightens the bandage around his knee, the only comfort in the gesture being the way Ghost nervously whispers to himself. Soap's knee is fucked, to say the least, and he isn't really aware of what the injury is.

He remembers an explosion, one he should have seen coming but didn't. Next thing he knew, he was flat on his back and Ghost was at his side, roughly removing some of Soap's gear to inspect him for more injuries. Ghost refused to let Soap look at his leg, and Soap knew better than to fight him on it.

If Ghost didn't want him looking, then it was self-explanatory as to how bad the wound is.

"Steady, Johnny, you're alright. We'll get you out of here." Ghost mumbles as Soap lets out a weak whimper as Ghost does something else to treat the wound, sending searing hot pain throughout his body.

"I dinnae ken 'boot that, Si." Soap whispers back, and Ghost's mask suddenly fills his vision as the lieutenant leans closer to him.

"You are getting out of here, and that's an order." Ghost's gravelly voice darkens with a promise concealed as a threat, but Soap refuses to accept.

"Ahm no' worth all this." Soap mumbles as he lets his head fall back and his eyes close. He's roughly grabbed by the front of his vest by Ghost, whose eyes are wet with forming tears.

"Yes, you fucking are, Johnny. Don't ever say something like that again."

"But I'm not. It'll be easier fer ya teh get out of here without havin' to haul my fat arse. Go, I'm not worth it." Soap pushes the best he can against Ghost as his own tears constrict his voice.

"Then what am I?" Ghost barks, his voice barely level. Soap blinks in confusion, a few tears falling through the dirt on his face.

"Whaddya mean?"

"If you're not worth all this trouble, then what am I?"

"Si, I dinnae understand, what do yeh mean?" Ghost sniffles, and with an incredible amount of self-control, he manages to meet Soap's eyes.

"You are good, John MacTavish. You are so much better than I ever will be, ever have been. Everything about me is stained, but you aren't. There are so many parts of you left that have hope, that give hope to others. Fuckin' hell, Johnny, you brought a dead man back to life. I had nothing left, I was merely a machine that belonged to the military. But then you came along with a cheeky grin and a punch to the shoulder and suddenly I had everything to fight for. For fuck's sake, Johnny, you are everything I have. Without you, I have nothing. But you still have a family. You have reasons outside of just this to keep going. So, what I mean is, if you, you and your good family and everything damn good thing about you, isn't worth all the effort, then what am I? What am I worth if you aren't good enough?" Simon's voice cracks as his grip against Johnny's vest tightens. Soap reaches up to his face, gently caressing the cheek bone of his mask before wiping away a tear.

"You'd never once hesitate to drag me out of here, no matter the cost. You'd complain the whole damn time about how heavy I am or how big of a bastard I am, but you'd do it. You wouldn't even give me a chance to tell you to leave me behind, so what makes it fair that you get to say that shit?" Ghost hisses, and now nothing stops the tears from both of them. Soap can only lay there helplessly on the ground, bleeding and exhausted, as he stares up at Ghost.

"I can't fucking lose you, Johnny. You are everything I have. If you aren't good enough for all this effort, then... then... what am I?" Simon sobs out as he leans forward so his head rests on Johnny's chest. They lay there, listening to Simon's crying as Johnny thinks of a good thing to say.

"Yeh are good, though. I jus' brought it out of ya. I was just the only one teh see the good in yeh and I fucking latched onto it."

"But if you aren't worth the fight, then I'm not worth even considering saving. That's the thing, Johnny. If you can't be fought for, I can't be saved." Simon whispers, still lying on Soap's chest. Another silence passes before Soap clears his throat.

"Yeh did make it an order fer me teh leave. Guess I really have no choice." He says with a chuckle, and Simon can't help but return it.

"Since when do you listen to orders?"

"When you give them. I've always listened to yeh, Si." Ghost sniffles again, sitting up to stare into Soap's eyes.

"Then let's get out of here."

"Aye, sir. I'll follow ya to the end, cause that's what yeh are: worth being damned for."

[cookiepie111]

I love the trope where men can't control their strength. Like you ask könig to open a jar for you, he takes the jar with one hand so excited to be useful and show off his strength, and he breaks it. Jar shatters in hand before he gets the chance to open it, glass digging in hand as it bleeds. You just stare up at him in confusion, pickle jucie all over the floor. He's happy, though, cause you patch him up later

[hvman-scvm]

NECROLUST || SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

PAIRING ;; SIMON “GHOST” RILEY / SENTIENT ! ZOMBIE ! READER (MALE, YOU/YOUR PRNS USED)

SUMMARY ;; love beyond the grave ig

CW ;; Simon is kinda sick on the head but we love him anyways, borderline romantic necrophilia ?? I guess. No actual smut included tho, usual zombie stuff like rotting n whatnot, established relationship, kind of silly ngl ?

WRITER’S NOTE ;; the title is a mayhem song bcuz I’m a total poser. There’s so much stuff 4 zombie ! Ghost which - don’t get me wrong- I like, but there’s barely any love 4 zombie ! Reader, and luckily ghost is just full of it.

Simon sighed in focus, a medical needle in hand as he sewed up your jaw for what had to be the 100th time, not that he minded; he loved taking care of you. It was hard to keep your jaw in place with how soft your rotting flesh is, how it kept ripping with the smallest movements.

He shook off a maggot that crawled into his hand, tying off the last thread and leaning in to kiss the newly sewed up, slimy skin where your jaw connects to the top of your skull.

“Better?” He spoke softly, he knew you understood him, although you never spoke back. The way your clouded eyes landed on his briefly let him knew that you not only hear him, but understand what he’s saying to you. As you moved your jaw up and down experimentally, you rapidly moved forward, trying to latch your teeth on whatever of ghost’s flesh you would reach first. But he was faster, tutting as he put a hand over your mouth, not affected by the sight of your maggots crawling over his gloves.

“Bad. No biting.” He said as if he was speaking to an untrained dog, before patting your head almost condescendingly. He reached around for the muzzle they keep on you and quickly attached it over your head, receiving a growl in response.

“You’ll be fine, love.” He said sincerely, looking at you sadly; he missed you. He missed being able to have conversations with you and feeling your warm skin on his own. He brought you to his chest, getting another growl. He sniffled, tears threatening to spill from his eyes as he kissed the top of your head. “They’ll find a cure, I promise.”

It was a daily routine; he’d patch you up, then getting overwhelmingly sad at your helpless state- at his helpless state. He wished he could find a way to bring you back. But a part of him, a part he buried deep inside himself, found enjoyment in this. He loved how reliant you were on him in your rotting state, loved the way your clouded eyes held eye contact with him and how incomprehensible growls would leave your rotting vocal cords whenever he would ask a question.

He caressed the top of your head, kissing it gently as he leaned his face on it. The smell of rot filled his nostrils, and he found himself taking it in by inhaling deeply. It was intoxicating.

[boldlygoingwhere]

aghh soapghost mini comic bc they make me CRAZY. lyrics are from "something good" from the sound of music btw.

anywho, a draft of comic is under the cut !!

[tanked-up]

No one knew Ghost’s birthday except Price, but he knew well enough to not make a deal out of it. Ghost wasn’t the type to care or celebrate his birthday, so when Soap found out he missed Ghost’s birthday, almost went feral. He couldn’t believe he would missed such an important day. That kinda got him mad at Price and Gaz for not telling him about it. Later on Price explained how Ghost didn’t want anyone to make such a big deal out of it and shit like that. Soap wasn’t paying attention at a single thing Price was saying, his mind was thinking of stuff he could gift Ghost, which was a big problem considering the place they were stationed in had no places that could get him something nice for Ghost. So he went “diy” and made a necklace and decided today was the day he finally gave it to him. “What’s this?” Soap carefully handed the necklace to Ghost with the letter a charm “S”

“An S?” Ghost eyed it, not without glaring at Soap

“I won’t last you forever, LT” Soap reminded

Ghost scoffed and accepted the gift. Believe it or not, that’s the first gift he ever kept. Few months passed and you’d see him wearing it occasionally around the camp. Recruits talked to each other about the meaning of it. Ghost never cared to explain, but did he have to? The only person he truly cared enough to explain, already knew.

[batfleshh]

desperation

Gaz x M!reader | October 25th

Warnings: use of sex toys, dildo is such a funny fucking word and idk why, phone sex, desperate Gaz, praise, this isn’t late stfu, gay stuff

Why were you busy? Why was he busy? Why were both of you so busy. Kyle always wondered that when he missed out on time to do anything intimate with you. You both had jobs to do, of course. He wouldn’t deny that. But it was so hard taking care of his needs by himself. Whenever you both had any free time at all, it was cut short by one of you being called away. Gaz couldn’t handle it anymore, it was practically driving him nuts. So he took it upon himself to try to fix that problem one night, as any good man would.

It started with a simple call, you unfortunately were still working, doing whatever you had to do. Gaz had finally called it a day, laying in his bed and bored out of his fucking mind. What else would he do but call his boyfriend? So he did just that, listening to the ringing a few times before hearing you pick up, a smile on his face. He kept the phone to his ear, not wanting the conversation to be loud. A feeling in him was aching for something, but he didn’t know what it was. Until he heard you groan unintentionally, his mind immediately associating it with something else.

His breath hitched as he felt a familiar feeling in his boxers. Him going quiet not going unnoticed by you, leading you to question him. “You alright there, love?”, you ask him, only getting a small noise in return. “Words please, Kyle. You know how I hate when you whine.”, you tease at him, Gaz thinking about what to say to you. He tries to explain how he feels to you, going on a little absentminded rant about how he misses your touch, and how you shouldn’t be at work; but fucking him stupid in his bed. You let out a sigh at his words, thinking about what you would do with the desperate man on the other line.

“You wanna do me a favor, handsome?”

What came after that sentence is what led you both to here, Gaz pushing a dildo in and out of his hole as he listened to you praise him, groaning as you stroke at your own cock. You had gotten up and gone to the bathroom a while ago, your dick in your hand as you listened to your boyfriend groan into the phone. Kyle had laid the phone on his pillow, his face buried halfway into it. One of his hands helped maneuver the toy, the other stroking quickly at his own cock.

“You’re doing so good for me, darling.”, you praise the man, earning a soft noise in return. Kyle lets a few grunts escape him as the head of the toy hits against that sweet spot inside him, whining and begging for your permission to release. You agree encouragingly, cooing at his noises. Gaz lets out a string of noises as he lets go, his orgasm oozing out of his tip. You quietly praise him as you help him calm down, promising to give him the best fucking of his life when you see him. You chuckle as he lets out a noise of protest when you say you have to go back to work, the deep chuckle that leaves you warming his chest.

~ ★

[angellake]

just some thoughts i was having bout graves and reader with fresh lip piercings! no cws besides graves being graves + general suggestiveness + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

You had been planning to get your lips pierced for a while now but hadn’t spoken to Graves about it. Of course, he would’ve been supportive. Well, a little more than supportive. Excited is a more apt word. Regardless, you hadn’t told him that you were even planning on this. He hadn’t a clue. So, when the first thing he notices when coming home from a mission done well is the pretty little studs through the flesh of your bottom lip, you can’t blame him for giving them a gentle tug. “Well, would ya look at that?” he murmurs more to himself than you while tilting your chin up towards him, an all too familiar look in his eyes. “Getting yourself into trouble while I’m away, hm, sweetheart?” Graves gives the little studs another little tug causing you to wince and make a sound of discomfort. It only seemed to egg him on. You were in for a long night.

[andreas-river]

Okay so this is really long so feel free to edit and change as you please! <3 I cANNOT stop thinking about Soap, Ghost, and König (separate) having a small (5’2”) wife that teaches! She’d get her nails and lashes done so they have something pretty to come home to (even if you don’t do that you’re still gorgeous!) and they do those things that the women on tiktok do where they make the house all pretty and aesthetic. They’d have a cute little dog that’s spoiled as hell! Their wives enjoy cooking for them and being all domestic and shit! The boys go feral for their wives (confirmed!) they love having her scratch their back and cuddle and UGH I just wanna see the boys have a dream life and I know they’d all react differently to it! Thanks!! 💗

Ghost, Soap & König ShortFics

A/N: Hi Anon! Thanks for your request, I decided to write three different shortfics taking inspiration from your ideas. I hope I met your expectations!

Disclaimer: I do not own any Modern Warfare characters. English is not my first language.

Ghost X Short!Wife!Reader

Summary: Ghost is finally coming home after some long missions, and you're waiting for him while cooking some food: but it seems that your dog has other plans in mind.

Warnings: none, fluff, domestic fluff, humor

Everything is almost ready. The food's cooking, the table is ready, the house is clean… the only thing that is missing is Simon. You and Simon together.

You can already feel your heartbeat getting faster, the memories you have with him are the most beautiful, your mind is filled with his voice whispering in your ear, his mesmerizing touch on your face, in your body- and a dog barking in the distance.

Your dog.

You wake up from your daydream, rushing towards the outside of the house, only to see your little dog running away, attracted by something unknown to you. You start running, despite being a little Pomeranian dog, is much faster than you, but fortunately, he gets stopped by one of your neighbor, an old lady who was coming home just then.

"Hello Y/N!" she greets you with a smile while petting your dog. "He ran away again, eh?"

"Yeah, to be a puppy is a real devil.." you take him in your arms, as you try to catch your breath.

"I know he’s finally coming home.."

"Exactly, I can't wait to see him-" and only then, you remember you left the food on the stove, the front door open, and…

"Wait, what time is it now?" you ask her, noticing that you don't even have your phone with you.

She looks at his wristwatch, and then at you: "It's nine o'clock.."

The realization hits you like a truck on a highway.

It's late. Too late.

"I have to go now!" You say goodbye to her quickly with one hand, running back home and hoping that Simon is not already there. You hear your dog whining in your arms, probably don't understanding what's happening.

When you're in front of the house, you notice a black car parked right in front of it, recognizing it immediately.

You enter your house, only to hear a strange silence, with the smell of burning hovering in the air. You leave your dog free, closing the door, deciding to check the kitchen and the food.

Well, surprise ruined.

You feel your body freezing at the noises coming from the kitchen, and then some steps getting closer-

You find yourself standing still in front of a 6'3" man, staring back at you, a skull balaclava covering his face, except for his brown eyes.

You didn't even realize that some tears were running down your cheeks, or that his arms were already around your shoulders, hugging you, getting welcomed by his perfume, one that you missed more than you expected.

Your wet cheeks were leaning on his chest, everything was perfect.

"Wanna order somethin'?" he said in a low voice, feeling a smile in his words.

You laugh, nodding at his question, remembering that the food wasn't eatable any more.

You feel him moving his arm above you, and when you look up his lips were on yours, a soft kiss embracing you, his balaclava completely gone.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, your dog was watching the both of you, maybe not understanding what was going on… or maybe yes?

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

König X Short!Wife!Reader

Summary: During a hot summer night, you get more closer to König, opening a little more to you. In the meantime, you discover his secret funny side.

Warnings: mention of bullying and anxiety, sadness, some cursing, Konig being funny (is that a warning?)

The night was hot, and the bed didn't give you any relief. Konig was awake too, and from time to time you hear him whining and grunting from the hot and dry air.

You were both lying down, your hand was tracing the scars on his back, his spine, and his muscles.

He was relaxed from your touch, thanks to you he learned how to go through his childhood traumas, his social anxiety, and most importantly, how to not be afraid to love someone. Everything was hard for him, and many people don't believe that a person like him was afraid of something. Afraid of love.

He didn't even remember anymore the reason why other kids bullied him: because he was the tallest? Because he was always silent? Those memories made him feel nauseous.

Then, he notices that he doesn't feel your hand on his skin anymore. Instead, a soft touch on his face made him open his eyes, only to meet your worried ones.

You were wiping away a tear that escaped his eye, noticing confusion and sadness inside him.

You remained silent, deciding to wait for him to start and don't force him to reveal his thoughts.

"My childhood sucked." A sigh leaves his lips, but then he smiled.

He rolls over to you, staring at your body sitting next to him. You feel your face heating, but you try to concentrate on him- even if his half-naked body was literally in front of your eyes.

Without any warning, he grabs you from your hips making you sit on top of him.

You don't just feel your cheeks blush, but now your whole body is burning.

"You know what? Payback is a bitch."

A laugh escaped your lips, and the tone of his voice is lighter and full of irony- it's the first time that you see this side of him. His smile is wider, even his light blue eyes are smiling while he laughs with you.

"I think they ended up doing some shitty job…" he laugh with you for his sentence, while you laid on top of him, feeling real happiness in him.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Soap X Short!Wife!Reader

Summary: When you find out you’re pregnant, all you have to do is tell Johnny the truth.

Warnings: mention of pregnancy, fluff

You were in the bathroom, alone, sitting on the cold floor.

In your hand, you were holding a pregnancy test, the fourth one of the day.

How does that happen? You both have always taken all precautions because he has a job that doesn’t allow him to be always with you.

And you, well, as a teacher, you're always busy with the kids.

You're not scared of pregnancy, but it's his reaction that terrifies you.

He will leave his job? For you?

You feel lucky to have him with you, he even married you, so he will probably…

"Darling, are you okay?" he calls you from the other side of the door, and you quickly adjust yourself, hoping that he will not ask you anything.

"Hey- hum, yeah, I'm okay." You said to him with a smile after you open the door, but he doesn't seem convinced by your tone of voice.

"Wanna still watch a movie?"

You nod, but you hate lying to him, and even more to yourself: you already decided to tell him the truth.

Sitting on the couch, you observe him while putting the film on the tv, hoping for the best.

"Johnny."

He turns to you, gesturing him with a hand to sit next to you. He watches you intently, waiting in silence for you to talk: he has no idea what you want to tell him, problems with the job? Nah, you love working with the kids.

"I'm pregnant."

His mind went blank for a moment, not realizing your words.

"I… will be a dad?" he asks you with a shaky voice, a smile forming his lip, his eyes filled with a joy you never see in him.

"Yes."

He immediately picks you up from the couch taking you in his arms, while you surround his hips with your legs, enfolding you completely.

"Is it okay for you or..?"

"This is perfect!"

You smile on his neck, kissing him softly, feeling happy sharing this moment with him, as many in the future.

[luci4theminorannoyance]

hey man, just found ur blog and wanted to drop by and request some cowboy!veteren!graves x southern!reader going to the rodeo if possible

ignore if u want!! no pressure!!

a/n: sure! I’m always a sucker for cowboys!! Couldn’t tell if you wanted hc’s or a fic so I’ll just do some headcannons

Graves:

-this man, i swear to god would try to impress you so much; if he was riding in that competition you can bet he would be as flashy as possible just for you

-he’d definitely try to convince you into a bet on how long he could stay on so he could ask for a kiss as a prize when you get it wrong

-adores putting his cowboy hat on top of your head, and calling you cute nicknames and pet names galor; like sugar, dear, darlin’- the whole thing

-probably try’s to out-southern you in everything. Oh you have a southern drawl? He has a more prominent one etc.

-if their are any fairs and stuff around the rodeo; he will unironically win every single plushy or prize he can just to give them to you

[snootlestheangel]

The Gaz has a Twin Sister short is here!!!!!

@cod-dump

[reds-skull]

Not Alive, Nor Dead

[PREV PART] [AO3]

This chapter was very fun to write. I listened to SUPERBLOOM by Silent Planet on loop (it's really good and underrated), if you want to get into the mood you can go listen to it too ig

The plan is practically complete now, the fact doing nothing to calm either Ghost or Soap. The Vaqueros who have been monitoring the bar have informed them they found the PMC’s base of operation - a compound deep in the desert surrounding Las Almas.

They will start by spreading around the compound suspected to house the soldiers of the PMC revenant. 4 teams will form a half-circle, the fifth, composed of himself and Soap, opposite to them. Soap will infiltrate to commence the distraction, Ghost acting as a barrier for any stray soldiers trying to escape, pushing everyone towards the other teams.

Keller and Commander Karim will be the closest team, Farah protecting Alex while he surprises the soldiers, funneling them further towards the Vaqueros and Shadows, Price and Gaz lifting in the air to snipe and allow the Captain to attempt to connect to the revenant’s mind through their servants.

If that fails, their orders are to exterminate all hostiles. Soap was initially charged with that, but the Sergeant vehemently refused, stating his powers are too unpredictable for that.

What interested Ghost is that Johnny didn’t say he couldn’t do it. He just doesn’t want to.

They’re to be deployed tomorrow, using the cover of night to get to their positions covertly. 

Ghost rummages around the small kitchen in one of the common rooms, sighing frustratingly when he goes through the same drawer for the fourth time. Where the fuck does Rudy keep all the bloody teabags?!

Gentle footsteps catch his attention, and he instantly turns to watch the door open. Soap stumbles inside, rubbing tiredly at his eyes, clearly not clocking in the other person in the room.

Johnny crashes into a couch, exhaling loudly and leaning his head back on the headrest. Ghost watches him for a moment, examining the exhausted scrunch to his shut eyes. He steps silently closer, leaning forward to stare directly down at his Sergeant.

“Bed too comfortable, Johnny?”

Ghost smirks at the Scot startling, eyes now wide open glaring at him, “yer a right menace, ye know that?”

His smile widens, “not my fault you all have zero spatial awareness.”

Soap grumbles something under his breath, and shoots an arm up towards his mask. Ghost barely has time to react before Johnny shifts the mask to cover his eyes, “the fuck are you-”

He hears Soap get up, the old couch screeching in protest, and the Sergeant pounces on him, starting to attempt to tackle him down.

Ghost almost laughs when he actually pins him to the back of the couch, his petty technique shifting the fight to his favor.

“What’s that about ‘spatial awareness’, LT?” Johnny breathes in his ear.

He moves slightly in Soap’s hold, “ah, I’m at a disadvantage here, Sergeant. It’s barely fair.”

The arms around him tighten as Soap leans in to whisper, “thought yer good enough to win without sight.”

Ghost turns his head to where he assumes Johnny’s is, “it’s not the blindness that got me. Didn’t have my nightly tea.” he states innocently.

Soap pushes off him with a groan, “awa an’ bile yer heid, fuckin’ Brits…”

Ghost chuckles as he rights the mask, finally seeing Johnny frown at him with (mock) disgust. He can’t help provoke him further, “any chance you know where Rudy hides his stash?”

Soap smiles sarcastically, “aye, I blew it all teh high hell, LT”

Ghost gasps, growling, “you didn’t” 

“Aye, smelled quite nice, burnt to a crisp.”

“I’ll give you ten seconds to run, Sergeant.” Ghost starts stalking closer to Johnny, who continues to smirk confidently at him.

“How generous of ye.” Ghost’s face hurts from smiling.

He stops in front of Johnny, reaching zero in his head, and swiftly crouching to grab Soap by the torso, slinging him over the shoulder while the man thumps at his back, “Oi! Put me down, ye feckin’ brute!”

Ghost hums, “I warned you, Johnny. It’s only fair, no?”

He drops Johnny on the couch, quickly wrapping his limbs around him to cage the Scot.

Johnny wiggles for a few seconds, until the fight in him runs out, and he settles against Ghost’s chest with a small sigh. Ghost tilts his head to look at Soap’s face, the smile slowly melting off his lips.

Johnny lifts a hand to caress the forearm pinning his chest, a mellow and quiet air hanging around him. “I can’t stop having… nightmares.” he starts unprompted, his voice weaker than usual. “Every night, I kill someone. I wake up and remember I didn’t, but it doesn’t change the fact I could.” his eyes look up at his, “I could kill you tomorrow, Simon.”

Simon relaxes his hold on Johnny into something more comfortable, pressing him closer to his heart, “I told you, Johnny. I’m strong. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Johnny twists to face him more properly, “promise me if yer in danger, don’t hesitate to use Limbo. Even if I’ll be in range, even if it kills me.”

His arms flex involuntarily, as if Johnny will fall apart otherwise, perish under his fingertips. He watches fire reflect in blue eyes, sun in grey skies. He wants to be angry at him, for asking something so selfish.

Johnny may follow him anywhere, but Simon will do anything Johnny asks of him. In that way, perhaps they’re both doomed.

Simon sighs, lowering his head to rest on Johnny’s shoulder, murmuring in defeat, “...I promise.”

Johnny pushes further into him, a gentle fire stroking his cheek in gratitude. Something breaks deep inside him, and Simon lays them down on the small couch, hugging Johnny tightly, letting warmth cradle him.

He didn’t mean to fall asleep, but the crackling flames and soft snores became a lullaby for his aching heart, and he drifts off to eternal darkness.

Ghost watches the last team drop off, their Humvee now driving towards the fifth team’s position. Soap has a serious expression, hands grasping tightly at his own tac vest with a white-knuckled grip.

They jump off, the driver shifting gear immediately to return to Los Vaqueros base. Soap comes closer to fist bump Ghost’s shoulder, “I’ll see you on the other side, LT. Don’t miss me too much.” Johnny turns away with a forced smile, Ghost forlornly gazing at his descending figure.

“First team in position.” Commander Karim radios in. The rest of the teams give their own affirmative, and Johnny finishes with, “fifth team in position, awaiting green-light.”

“Good copy, Soap.” Price responds, “you’re authorized for explosion creation.”

Ghost observes the foreboding walls of the compound stand silent for a minute, before brilliant fire erupts and takes them down. The explosions ramp up, the blaze so hot, he feels it several hundred feet away.

He scans the horizon for soldiers, finding none attempting to save themselves from the blasts. 

Did they assume wrong, that the revenant PMC would try to fight back? Ghost grabs his comms, “Sergeant, have you seen any hostiles on your end?”

Soap replies a few seconds later, a little out of breath, “negative. Did you?”

“No, keep burning it down-”

Someone, several hands, tackle Ghost from behind. He growls in surprise, twisting his body to shoot behind him blindly. A body falls to the ground. Three others take its place, grasping at his arms, cold limbs pushing his face to the sand.

Soap shouts in his comms, “Ghost?! Ghost, what the fuck is going on?!”

His comms are still on, he realizes with a flash, “Johnny, get out of there! We’ve been compromised!” he snarls desperately.

“Where are you, I’ll- oh fuck.” Ghost’s rib cage is aching, pressure building inside and out.

“Ghost, there are ballistic missiles here. They’re locking onto something.” 

Fuck, FUCK! Ghost fruitlessly tries to shake off his attackers.

Price’s voice rumbles through the radio, “Soap, Ghost! Get yourself out of there, NOW! The revenant, he’s-!”

One of the soldiers crushes the radio, Ghost gasping at the pain shooting down his left shoulder.

“Ah, Captain Price… figures he’ll be the first to find out. Always was such a pain in the ass.”

Ghost stills, craning his neck to lock eyes with the blank faces of the soldiers. The voice echoes from all of them, surrounding him.

The PMC revenant… he clenches his teeth.

One of the soldiers crouches down, taking hold of his jaw, Ghost unsuccessfully trying to shake him off.

“I told you, you will regret not giving the Sergeant to me.”

Cold ice pours down his veins, and he stills.

It can’t be…

“Graves…” Ghost gasps.

Laughter erupts around him, voices overlapping and distorting, “you really thought I’m a fuckin’ non-rev, Simon?” Graves spits his name like a snake’s venom, “I tried to play nice, I really did. But you…”

The faceless soldier tightens his grip on Ghost, “you decided to fuck it all up. I hope you were happy with your ‘Johnny’, because it’s time we have a little fun.” 

Graves hums, “I’ve always wondered just how strong Soap is… after the carnage he left in Verdansk” the American whistles in reverence, “only you would be able to match something like that, wiping a quarter city in a flash.”

“Ghost! The soldiers activated the missiles, I have to detonate them before the launch, please just fuckin’ answer me!” a desperate voice calls behind him through comms.

Graves clicks his tongue, “well, Ghost? Wouldn’t wanna leave your boyfriend hanging, do we?” he holds a radio in front of Ghost’s face, “you can either let the missiles launch and erase Las Almas off the map, or you can die. Your choice, really.”

Arctic ice numbs his insides. The missiles hit Las Almas, they kill everyone… including their entire team. 

The choice is obvious. And those are the hardest ones to make.

“Johnny…” Ghost rasps at the radio.

“Simon, thank the fuckin’ Reapers-!”

Ghost closes his eyes, indulging in Johnny’s voice for just a little longer, “detonate them.”

A shaky inhale passes through the comms, “are ye far enough?”

Ghost’s neck bows, “I remember the promise.”

Static fills the air for a moment, his breaths loud in his ears. Ghost bites on his tongue just to feel something other than freezing pain.

“It was my choice, Simon. Don’t feel bad about it later, alright?”

Ghost’s voice trembles when he whispers, “I hate you...” 

Johnny laughs for him one last time, the sound bringing tears to his eyes, “I knew you’ve taken a shine to me, LT. I’ll see you on the other side.”

He doesn’t want it to end, not yet, not when he just started to feel like he could have this, not like this, not with those words as the last he ever hears “Johnny, I-”

Graves takes away the radio, “now isn’t that heart-warming? You even got your goodbyes in.” Graves sighs, “it’s an honor to see the Ghost die a second and final time. I’ll make sure they’ll know just how you died, Simon Riley. Alone.”

His voice fades away, only heartbeat and rushing blood passes through his ears.

A deafening sound crackles through the air, Ghost’s eyelids glow reds, oranges, yellow, as the wall of inferno comes closer and closer.

For a moment, he can’t feel the cold anymore. He considers letting go, leaving the world by Johnny’s hand, as he was destined.

For a moment, he considers breaking Johnny’s trust, sacrificing himself to let the other live. He imagines how he would react, how he would hate Simon for the rest of his life. He wants to smile. At least he would be alive to despise him.

He imagines, only for a moment.

Ghost opens his eyes.

Limbo envelopes the world, the dark, cold realm curling around him like death’s last hug. He screams, pushing the soldiers off, leaving them to be consumed by his victims.

Molten light leaks from Ghost’s eyes, pain like no other spreading through him. He doesn’t want to look ahead, to see where the residents run towards, to watch as Johnny is being ripped apart by his own murdered souls.

A strange creature moves in Ghost’s peripheral. He shakily lifts his gaze from the empty ground. A… moth?

A burning moth, wings fluttering and shedding embers of vibrant colors, circling his protective light.

Ghost tilts his head, the creature gentle and soft as it lands on his shoulder, warming him like a small ray of sunlight.

It reminds him of…

Someone screams. Not the gurgled wails of Limbo, a clear, anguished voice.

Ghost finally looks at Johnny.

He stands tall, fire covering his arms, trailing up his shoulders, lighting his back with white flames. Leaving a halo behind him. A single holy being in the void.

 Dark hands grasp at his fire, try to steal it for themselves.

Johnny takes a hand, shouting. 

He explodes the arm. Everything that touches his Sergeant, ignites in beautiful colors, lighting up Limbo in a way Ghost hadn't thought possible. Everywhere he steps, leaves marks of warm light. Everywhere he looks, moths flap softly and spread little sparks.

Johnny’s eyes are glowing, rapidly moving from shape to shape, decimating everything in his path.

Light traces its way down Ghost’s mask.

Johnny is breathtaking.

Their eyes meet, beyond the vast fields of the void.

“SIMON! I CAN’T HOLD ON MUCH LONGER-” One hand leaves a path of shadow on Johnny’s arm, “MAKE IT STOP! SIMON, MAKE IT STOP-!!!”

Simon’s breath restores, he inhales sharply and sends his arms forward, palms taking hold of the imaginary reins on Limbo.

One heartbeat passes.

“ARGHHH-!”

Simon pulls back his arms, yelling as he feels tendons snapping. Limbo swirls, fights back against him, tries to sink its claws back into Johnny.

He pulls harder.

Simon is flung back several feet as the void rushes back into him. His head hits the ground and then-

Darkness.

[hvman-scvm]

zombie ghost and vampire gn reader literally eating each other out of love send message

YOUR MIND !!! you are so fucking real 4 this

!! CW ;; cannibalism ? Question mark ?, I am a bit descriptive w this, usual zombie n vamp stuff, zombie ! Ghost is somewhat sentient ig, self mutilation, I am not sure if this counts as deaddove but it cld so beware, this is honestly shitty as hell since it was rushed out of excitement so beware of tht too lmao. Not proofread. !!

You happily watched as ghost attempted gnawing your arm, his broken jaw slack as his top teeth pressed hard against your cold skin. You cooed at him, petting the top of his head as you watched his attempt at eating you. You were feeling a bit hungry yourself, you realized, the lightheadedness that comes with craving blood coming back as you smiled fondly at the sweet sight in front of you.

“Hungry, are we?” You asked him, receiving a nod and groan. Back when your Ghost was alive, you two would discuss this vaguely, talking about the possibility of consuming each other’s flesh. He dearly wanted to; it felt like the only appropriate way to show his love. It never went past discussion, however. Maybe a few deep bites and cutting each other up to lick up the blood, but never anything past that. You knew how badly he wanted to eat you, and you felt similarly. It was this deep ache, this hunger in you that you feel in your chest, to consume the one you love and have them be a part of you forever and vice versa.

The aching consumed you whole, and you decided that there’s no better time than now.

“Hold on, dear.” You spoke softly to him, watching him pull away from your arm and looking at you with his cloudy eyes. You reached for his knife, the one in his belt, and without hesitation, dug it into your stomach after lifting your shirt. You carved in a circular motion, gritting your teeth in pain as you felt the piercing sting of your muscle and nerves being cut up. He watched intently, groaning occasionally as you finished your job. You dug your fingers into the wound and ripped it off the small piece of skin it was hanging off, smiling at him as your bloody hand reached for his jaw, your other one placing the piece of flesh inbetween his teeth and helping him chew. It was a lovely sight, and an even lovelier feeling. Your fingers caressed his bottom jaw as you loved it up and down for him. Hearing him groan in appreciation was music to your ears.

You carelessly threw his knife to the side. Holding his jaw in place, watching him swallow with slight challenge as he went limp against your shoulder, leaning on it and groaning happily. You went back to petting his head, leaning close to his neck where his throat is and taking a deep breath, the smell of dirt and rot strong on him, making you groan. “Ready?” You said, though you weren’t asking; you were going to do it anyways. You sunk your fangs into the side of his neck where his carotid artery was, feeling the blood gush out of it. It was like nothing you’ve ever tasted before, before you ever sunk your teeth into him you’d known that his blood would be special. It tasted strongly metallic, so strong it was almost disgusting. You could feel the maggots getting sucked out of his artery, and you carelessly chewed them up, feeling the squishy creatures almost explode in your mouth was so disgustingly good. Luckily, the strong taste of his blood covered up the taste of the maggots, not that you would’ve minded either way.

As you got bored of sucking, another idea crossed your head; you sunk your fangs deeper into his neck, hearing him let out a groan akin to a quiet scream as you ripped open he side of his throat with your strong teeth. It tasted horrible and dear god did you love it. His whole weight was practically on top of you, and if it weren’t for the fact that you were sitting down you would’ve fell to the floor. Their was more maggots on his skin than his blood, and you were glad as you chewed the soft, rotting flesh. You felt nauseous from the taste, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You felt it go down your throat slowly, struggling to stop yourself from gagging as it went down.

You were shaking; if there was a feeling shove euphoria this was it. He let out another, quieter groan, nuzzling your neck as you pulled away from his. Kissing the top of his head with your bloody lips, you told him how much you loved him. And although all he did was groan back, you knew he meant to say it back to you. You both were more than just happy at fulfilling this fantasy, you were on cloud 9.

[cheezbites]

König: (is recklessly driving like he has 9 lives)

Y/N: Dude, slow down!

König: (car heavily bumps into something)

Y/N: …

König: Did I just run over a cat..?

Y/N: No. It was a dog to be exact, König.

König: Phew, thank God.

Masterlist

[boxofthings]

Finally finished a prompt and wrote some GhostRoach (kinda) matching gear fluff :) 

I might also go back and do some of the other ideas anon listed

This turned out much longer than expected lmao and isn't as well fleshed out and polished like my two other fics so if there are typos I'm sorry lol (also might be a lil ooc since this was just mindless brainrot writing)

Read on AO3

---

A haphazard smack against his helmet briefly knocks him out of his crouched stance. He grunts softly as he repositions himself near the bushes. Ghost isn't surprised that a task force member got bored and decided to bother him. He's even less surprised when he turns around and comes face to face with Roach, eyes crinkled in a relaxed grin.

"What," he says, unimpressed. They're supposed to be on recon duty, but it's lasted far longer than he thinks is needed, and with the information they've gathered being as dry as it was, Ghost had figured the squad would've started loosening up by now. 

He should've figured Roach would be the first one to get antsy.

"Wanted to check up on you," Roach signs. He lowers himself so that he's at Ghost's level and slings his firearm over his shoulder. "Also, I'm bored." 

Ghost rolls his eyes. "So I see you've made the smart decision and sought me out to help cure your boredom?" He makes a show of raising his brow even though it won't be seen through the mask.

Roach nods, completely unbothered by his lieutenant's snark.

"Of all people..." Ghost mumbles under his breath, but his limbs feel just a little less heavy than they were a minute ago.

He doesn't follow Roach's example and keeps his gun at the ready, barrel pointed straight in front of him. At the same time, the sergeant starts getting himself comfortable (or as comfortable as one can be in a humidly damp forest) with his journal already out and pencil in hand.

Ghost doesn't bother reprimanding him. It'd felt so long ago that he'd nitpick at every minuscule shortcoming displayed by his subordinates. It'd only feel strange if he went back to that now, especially with Roach, who had definitely played a role in the aversion of that overtly rigid demeanour. 

And besides, he knows Roach to be startlingly swift when facing a sudden oncoming threat, and with the added security of Ghost still on alert, their chances of ambush were low.

When had he gotten so soft? 

He turns to the sergeant–the culprit responsible for that development. A rush of fond exasperation churns in his gut, but he doesn't speak, only watches, as he often does with Roach.

He looks down at the open journal page, a current sketch of the foliage around them, some jotted-down thoughts and a drawing of Ghost from earlier in the day.

It doesn't bother him, but he's always surprised to see Roach's sketches of him, even if it'd been established long ago that Roach, much like the captain, tends to draw everyone.

It just means something else when it's Ghost.

Ghost clears his throat, suddenly abashed, "You and MacTavish should have drawing competitions. Bet he'd enjoy that."

The sergeant looks up, then glances down at his page again, pointedly looking at the sketch of the lieutenant.

"We already had one," he responds. "He won." Roach dramatically hangs his head and clutches his heart in a mocking "woe is me" display. Ghost feels the corners of his lips lift.

"Ah," he starts, leaning over to give a quick pat on the shoulder. "Sorry to hear that. S'pose the captain does have a couple of years on ya." 

Roach shrugs lightheartedly, "My creations could definitely use some work." He returns to his previous activity while Ghost turns his gaze back to their targeted area.

He's starting to feel antsy himself, and he's long recognized the source of that familiar precipice. "I like 'em, though," he says, much more hesitant and softer than his tone before, probably hoping the latter won't hear.

Roach's eyes shift upwards and he takes a moment to observe Ghost, crinkled eyes boring deep into his skin, and he feels his body flaring warmer.

He leans forward and gives a quick peck to Ghost's covered cheek, patting the area lightheartedly before returning to his previous ministrations, all too quickly for Ghost to properly process and appreciate what had just happened.

Ghost manages a choked "Mhm" before he's back to steadying his gun in his grasp, albeit a little shakier this time.

They don't say anything else after that–Ghost suddenly hyper-focused on the tree to the left of his barrel, and Roach very obviously content with their current established dynamic.

The silence is, as always, comfortable between them, and it passes for another half an hour before Royce comms in that his area is clear and that there's nothing else to look for.

Ghost stands up, gathering the gear he'd set on the ground, and moves over to offer Roach a hand to hoist him up.

The other closes his journal and brushes off his gear. When he looks up at Ghost, he grins.

"What?" Ghost asks, sensing an aura of inscrutability.

Roach continues to smile as he shakes his head, already turning to trek down the path they came from. Ghost wordlessly follows him.

--

Once they've all settled into their respective rides, Ghost radios in with Soap one last time to confirm extraction before he signals Royce to start driving.

He's just started to relax when he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the side-view mirror. 

There's nothing out of the ordinary. Just his masked face as usual, but when he glances slightly upwards to where his helmet sits, that's where he spots it.

A sticker. It's a flower and a soft baby pink, and Ghost stares at it, slightly incredulous as if it appeared out of thin air.

Except–he has a hunch on where it came from, and the earlier smack to his helmet comes back to rattle his brain in a wave of exasperation.

And, of course, Roach chose to ride with Meat in the other car. He'll deal with it later.

--

Seven hours later and they're finally back on base. Ghost is about ready to pass out in his quarters, but as soon as he steps into the common room, Meat approaches him, no doubt to pester Ghost into joining his evening bender.

Ghost is about to wave him off when Meat pauses and squints at him. "The hell is that?"

For a moment, Ghost doesn't understand what Meat's referring to and, by default, is prepared to say it's his face, but the other's gaze is lifted just a tad higher than where Ghost's ears would be, and he realizes. 

"It's just a sticker," he grumbles. He'd almost forgotten about it, "Don't get your knickers in a twist."

Meat only looks more confused. "Yeah, but-" his attention is ripped away by Roach, who makes his way over to the two. "Wow."

"What?" Roach asks.

The other makes a heatless scowl, "So you'll let Roachie here decorate your helmet but if we even suggest you add some personality and glamour to your gear, you just get all huffy?"

It's Ghost's turn to scowl. "I do not get huffy." And he immediately chides himself for sounding like a petulant child arguing with their sibling over who started what. Over a sticker.

"And the sergeant did it without my knowledge." He tries to add with more professionalism, but it doesn't help that Roach is standing next to him, grinning like an idiot.

The answer obviously doesn't satisfy Meat at all--only really exasperates him more. He shakes his head and gives a brief, knowing glance towards Roach, that Ghost heavily glares at, before he gives the lieutenant a light pat as he leaves. "Whatever. Looks cute, L.T."

Before he can respond, Roach is already pulling him away towards the direction of the mess hall.

Once they've sat down with a tray of food in front of them, Ghost takes the time to unbuckle his helmet, deliberately making eye contact with Roach.

"Well?" he says, side-eyeing his partner.

Roach glances down at the aforementioned sticker, then looks back up at Ghost and shrugs.

"Why not?" he signs. "You could add a little colour to your..." he gestures towards Ghost's person haphazardly.

Ghost sighs, placing down his helmet to the side and settling into his seat.

"You know you can take it off. It's all in good fun."

Ghost gives one last glance at the little sticker before digging into his food.

He'll keep it on for now, only because he'd rather focus his attention on his meal over something so ridiculous.

--

The next time they're off on a mission, it's rather quick. A cut-and-dry track and assimilate.

As Soap handles their acquired asset into the carrier, Ghost takes a quick moment to glance at the pop-up shops around them.

They've been deployed to a small village on the east coast of the U.S., where their target had hunkered up in. During their sweep of the area, he'd observed the various shop stands he'd passed by.

Now, as he studies the goods in front of him, his eye catches on a bright sheet in his peripheral. 

He buys it without a second thought. Keeping it tucked in his vest's breast pocket when he meets back up with the others.

--

It's a slow day. He's reading over mission debriefings in his shared office with the captain. 

He'd chosen to look over them during afternoon drills when he knew he wouldn't be disturbed.

With everyone outside sweating their asses off, he'd be granted a couple hours of free time.

He's fifteen minutes into his file readings when Roach walks straight through the door, shoulders slumped from fatigue and half his gear still strapped to his body.

Ghost immediately sits straighter, forgoing his attention on the papers strewn across his desk and taking in Roach's presence. He's back a day early from his latest deployment. One Ghost, unfortunately, wasn't assigned to join.

"Injuries?"

Roach huffs lightheartedly and shakes his head. "Just a few bruised ribs. All good."

He sits down beside Ghost with a heavy sigh and glances over his papers. "How have you been?"

Ghost relaxes as soon as the other situates the other chair, and his hand involuntarily creeps closer to Roach across the table.

Roach zeroes in on it and grasps it without question. 

Ghost swallows. "I've been fine. Slow day. How was the mission?"

The sergeant shrugs. "Nothing special, just a week of mostly sitting around."

Ghost nods, gripping Roach's hand just a little tighter.

Roach removes his helmet and places it on Ghost's desk, leaning closer towards him so their shoulders are touching.

"Mission debriefings?"

"Mm. Just going over a few before I give 'em to MacTavish."

Roach nods, leaning his head against Ghost's shoulder.

Ghost snorts, already knowing where this will go. "If you're tired, you should've headed to the barracks."

Roach makes no show of moving, only whispering a soft "Wanted to see you" that makes Ghost's chest feel funny.

Ghost decides to return to his papers, one hand still intertwined with his partner's, but refusing to let go.

Roach has already begun dozing off when Ghost brings the nearest paper closer to him.

Ghost only manages to get twenty minutes of productive reading in when his mind becomes preoccupied. He's read the same paragraph five times before he throws the paper down and rubs his eyes.

The warm weight on his side hasn't moved an inch, and Ghost feels a faint smile graze his lips when he glances down at Roach, dead to the world, on Ghost's shoulder.

When he turns back to his desk, something catches his eye from his peripheral. It's the small sheet of stickers he'd bought on that mission weeks ago, haphazardly sticking out from between two folders.

He'd forgotten about it, was already apprehensive about using them as soon as he'd arrived back with them in his pocket.

But when he turns to his left, Roach's helmet sits innocently within his reach, and his eyes dart between that and the stickers on his right.

He sighs, feeling a little like a small child scheming to steal an extra snack or two from the pantry.

He reaches forward, mindful of not jostling Roach too much, as he grabs the plastic sheet and slides it out of its clear sleeve.

Ghost gingerly peels a little blue flower off the sheet and delicately places it on the same area where Roach placed his on Ghost's helmet.

After smoothing it out for a few seconds, he debates placing another. Just because. But as he reaches over to grab at the sheet again, he freezes.

The soft breathing from his left had quieted substantially, and he slowly looks down to his shoulder to make eye contact with Roach's amused gaze.

"How long were you awake," he grumbles.

Roach lifts himself, extricating his hand from Ghost's and stretching. "Long enough to watch you lovingly decorate my helmet."

"I wasn't-It was just one."

He doesn't respond, only reaches out to grab his helmet and turns back to Ghost, expression almost triumphant.

Ghost can only look down at Roach's mouth and subconsciously leans closer.

It is then that the captain walks right through the door, papers in hand, approaching his own desk when he catches Ghost and Roach in the act.

The smile that breaks across Mactavish's face is almost comical. Ghost immediately wishes he'd just done this in his own quarters.

"That's real precious, lads," he snorts.

Ghost grimaces, prepared for the onslaught of teasing from his commanding officer.

Soap notices his discomfort and quickly reassures him. "Ah, don't be embarrassed, mate. Roach here used to decorate my helmet when he first joined the squad."

For a moment, Ghost feels an ugly bout of jealousy spark through his gut, which is ridiculous because they're just stickers.

Roach quickly pats Ghost's hand and waves off the captain.

"It was my first mission with him alone, and we got so bored we just did anything to pass the time." As if he sensed Ghost's envy.

"Yeah yeah," MacTavish responds. "No need to feel jealous, Ghost. You're still the special one."

Roach sits back down, turning his body to Ghost while intently making eye contact with Soap. "He also lost the helmet that very same mission."

Soap sneers with zero heat as he walks toward the exit. "Think of it as an unpredicted blessing. Now you can focus all that attention onto Ghost.

The door closes, and Ghost wordlessly turns to Roach.

The other's grin hasn't diminished a bit, and Ghost feels warm under all his layers.

Roach leans forward and encloses Ghost's face between his hands, calloused but gentle, and brings his lips to Ghost's in a tender kiss.

His mask is still on, but Ghost reciprocates regardless and cherishes the moment all the same. He closes his eyes and leans fully into Roach's body heat as the other moves one hand to the back of Ghost's neck to lock them in place.

When they separate, Roach takes a moment to caress Ghost's face before pulling back and standing up.

Ghost already misses the contact.

Roach is about to walk out of the office before he turns back, glancing at the helmet in his hands and giving Ghost one last survey.

"It does look cute, L.T."

Ghost only huffs.

[gravesphillip]

Cramp comfort // Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (request for @lixlikes)

warnings: afab!reader, neutral pronouns. other than that, just some pure fluff!

You find yourself upstairs sprawled out on your massive king sized bed.

One hand over your lower abdomen, eyes squeezed shut as waves of pain thrashed over your legs up to where your hand was placed.

It was the worst out of all cycles you've ever had –or so it felt like it. Your legs beginning to curl in, bending at the knees as they hiked up bumping into your bottom.

"my gosh, my cramps are never this bad." Complaining out in a moan. Your legs became restless, moving and stretching all over the place.

Heaviness began to take over your eyes, trying to fall asleep. Trying to also keep your legs still, so you actually could..

Suddenly disturbed, your phone you had tossed across the bed far down towards your feet began to vibrate. A bright light flashed on the screen as an obnoxious sound went off. It was sorta a buzzing kind.

Groaning while sitting up, you moved your hand off bringing it down to grab the object.

Bringing it towards your face, the number was very much recognizable. Dragging your eyes up to the contact name, Johnny ❤.

Just before the ringing ended, your finger quickly went over the accept button. Switching it to speaker phone before speaking,

-Hello?

-Hey, babe. How are you feeling?

-I'm doing okay, just in a bit of pain. Thats all though.

-Do you want me to bring you anything? I can come over if you'd like. I was gonna ask if you wanted to watch this new movie tonight, but I understand a no.

-Eh, not feeling the movie, obviously. Though, I would appreciate if you came over. Please?

A muffled chuckle can be heard from the other side of the phone,

-Of course, is that all, babe?

-Yeah, thanks, Johnny.

beep

The call ending in a quick loud beep initiated by you.

Leaning over to your left, placing your phone in a more responsible area on your nightstand.

Stretching your arms up in a long yawn, but short to soon from the pain. "fuck." A short breathed gasp.

Knowing Johnny only lived a few streets down from you, you had to prepare fast for those 3 loud knocks on your door.

Shuffling off your bed and making way to your bathroom, that was connected off of the left wall of your room.

Turning on the faucet of the sink, lukewarm water began to run into the bowl below.

Cupping both of your hands, collecting the water into them. While water started to seep from the openings in your fingers, you quickly splashed the liquid up and into your face.

Sighing out from the feeling, you rubbed your tired face.

Grabbing the white towel hanging to the right of you, pulling it off the handle it was sitting on before bringing it to your face. Patting it gently, collecting the loose water that was stranded on your face.

Pulling the towel through the other side of the handle, putting it back damp.

thump, thump, thump

The door.

You left your bathroom, smacking your hand against the bathroom door frame before turning right to out your bedroom.

Wrapping your hand around the front door knob, turning it right unlatching it.

Soap pushed through, forcing you to back up before he brought you in for a tight hug.

"Been a while." He muffled into your hair.

Embracing yourself within his chest, wrapping your hands around his shoulders to rest them on his neck.

His, on your waist, tugging you as close as you two could be together.

Johnny let go first, obliging to it, you pushed backwards.

"I know you said you didn't want me to bring anything but, I brought you a heated pad and blanket." Pulling it out his bag he had slinged over his shoulder, offering you the two items.

Grabbing the items, feeling your heartbeat race from the thoughtfulness.

"Thank you, Johnny. I appreciate this, alot.."

There was a comfortable silence in your doorway before he started removing his coat.

Placing it onto the nearby bench, kicking his boots off.

"We can sit on the couch and watch a movie you pick.. You know, to make it up to you."

Dragging your fingertips on the frame of the couch, before making it around the arm of the chair before sitting down. Waiting for his response.

Dumping the heated items that was being held in your other hand, next to you.

Soap nodded, moving his bag to ontop of his coat before heading towards you.

Plopping next to you, he laid his while body onto the couch before inviting you to lay ontop of him.

Smiling, you unraveled the heated blanket. Setting the heated pad to the side before crawling up to his chest.

Settling in to the nook of his neck, before he brought up the blanket. Wrapping you up in it up to your shoulders.

He placed a kiss onto your forehead before turning on the TV.

"I love you, Johnny. You don't know how much this means to me."

A quiet murmur came from your lips, watching him turn on a random movie off of Netflix.

"Its no problem, seriously. I love you too."

He whispered, patting your head.

That whole evening he spent with you, and only you.

[writer-of-various]

Hmmm not sure if you're still doing these but if you are, could you please do

[ RESCUE ]  for one muse to intervene upon seeing a third party making the other one uncomfortable. 

With Ghost/Rudy and Graves as the third party (Grave looks like the mfo that ignores boundariesl?

Two in one day, that's it. I'ma marry all of you. But yes, Graves is an dumbass that messes with things that aren't his and if that thing belongs to Ghost? Well, this mf is dead.

Rudy feels the exhaustion take its toll on him as he leaves the cargo crate, the interrogation with Valeria going south quick, and Alejandro is still hurt over her betrayal. He feed the flames by continuously arguing with her despite Rudy's pleads for them to stop and talk like adults. Neither listened, giving him that look they always gave him when he tried putting himself in the middle to prevent them from going at each other's throats: a warning. While Alejandro acted like an alpha male, Valeria was an alpha female, both stubborn and needing to always be right (Valeria moreso than Ale). In simple words, it has always been tiring to be in the middle of their arguments but Rudy despised fighting, his household having always been a place where arguments were born.

He shakes his head at his thoughts, knowing that the deal with Valeria has pros and cons, but it isn't the first time she gave intel and it ended up being an ambush. He walks over to a table that had been set up, peering at the multiple maps of different locations, knowing any chance of a decent sleep wasn't due until this shitshow was done.

"Your friend, has he always had a short temper?" A hand of his shoulder startles him, turning around and sighing out softly when he saw that it was only Graves. The American has been nice so far, but Rudy has always been naive and oblivious, the dark look in Graves' blue eyes flying over his head.

"I would be lying if I said no." Rudy answers, chuckling softly as Graves let out a laugh. "Our connection with Valeria just upsets him at times, but the mission is always important. I know he'll get over it and be in the right mind."

"Good, we can't afford anyone losing their cool. So, I've noted you're quite the quiet man. Is there any reason?" Graves edges closer, his eyes staring Rudy down, and now something feels wrong to the sergeant major. He tries to back up, only to wince when his back connected with the table he had been leaning over. It's okay, Graves is an ally and the others are near, he reassures himself.

"Uh, no. I've always been shy I guess, according to my mother and Alejandro." Rudy averts his eyes from the smirking man, trying to find Alejandro but his best friend wasn't anywhere near. He flinches when Graves rests a hand on his left hip, body so close to his own and Rudy felt uncomfortable. "Sir, can you back up a bit?"

"No can do, Rudy, I like this view. You under me, so small and weak. I'm sure you've done this plenty of times before." Graves taunts, but it serves Rudy's confusion. Done what? And he was not weak or small.

"You're making me uncomfortable, please move." Rudy tries wiggling past Graves, only to whimper when he slammed back against the table, nearly falling on his back. He pushes at the taller man's chest, shrinking into himself when Graves leans closer to his face and whispers in his ear.

"You're not in the position to order me around, Parra. Do as I say or else." Rudy whimpers again, about to call out for Alejandro when Graves slaps a hand over his mouth, silencing him. His expression twisted into a glare, eyes giving a warning and Rudy suddenly feels small, weak. "What did I just say? You're in for it now."

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" A deep voice booms from behind Graves, who immediately steps away and turns his head to see Ghost standing a meter away from them. Even with his mask on, Ghost was clearly pissed, eyes darker and his stance ready to attack. Graves holds his hands up in mock surrender, sidestepping away from the Biritsh man.

"Just having a friendly talk with Rodolfo, right?" He points his stare to a pale Rudy, who nods quickly, eyes averted to the floor. He smirks, walking past Ghost after patting him on the shoulder. "See you in 30."

Ghost watches the American retreat to where the others headed off, making sure it was only him and Rudy before walking over to the smaller male. He frowns as Rudy flinches away from him, arms wrapped around his torso, hugging himself– shielding himself.

"Rudy..." "I'm fine, I promise." Rudy cuts off, forcing a small smile but Ghost shakes his head, removing his headgear and mask and setting it on the table besides the sergeant major, holding a hand up but not touching Rudy. Instead he gives the other a look, and Rudy hesitates before nodding, their silent conversation saying a lot with only a few stares. Ghost inspects the shorter, the weight that appeared on his shoulders when he saw Graves cornering Rudy lifting as he doesn't find any visible injuries.

"Do you want me to kick his arse?" Ghost says, attempting for humour, but Rudy shakes his head quickly, fear settling in those wide chocolate brown eyes.

"No, no its fine. I'm fine. Let's just drop it, please?" Rudy is begging, and Ghost knows it's bad. Despite the two barely meeting, they connected quickly when Ghost apologized for being the source of fear to Rudy. The smaller male was quick to laugh it off nervously, stating he's fine and even pleading with Ghost to not apologize. Ghost picked it up, the pleading a sign that Rudy was scared, upset, worried, or anxious. They talked more after that and had some things in common. Ghost felt an immediate pull, the need to protect Rudy at all costs. He often caught himself staring at Rudy for a minute too long, eyes racking over the slim build of the smaller male.

"Rodolfo, if he ever comes near you again, you have my order to beat him to a bloody pulp, understand?" Despite being in the military, the special forces nonetheless, Rudy always hated having to fight. He had gave Ghost some lore to his childhood, his home not a safe haven with his drunk of a father constantly abusing him and his mother. Rudy was the youngest of three, two older brothers having left as soon as they could.

"Ghost..." Rudy trails off when Ghost gives him a look, "Okay. I promise." He fidgets as they settle in silence, staring up at Ghost through his long and dark lashes; and Ghost leans down the slightest, dark eyes meeting dark eyes, and he sends another message. He cups Rudy's face gently.

"Ghost" Rudy breathes out, leaning into the touch. "Simon." Rudy gives him a look of confusion.

"Mi nombre es Simon." Rudy's eyes widen and Ghost closes the distance, pressing his lips against the soft and plump ones that belonged to the shorter man. Rudy hesitates the first few seconds before pressing back, draping his arms over Ghost's broad shoulders and wrapping a leg around the bigger man's waist.

"Simon, por favor." He begs and Ghost growls against his neck, carrying Rudy somewhere more private. He knows Rudy wouldn't be comfortable making quite a display where anywhere can walk in and see, but Ghost has no problem doing it one day to make sure everyone, including Graves, knew who Rudy belonged to.