#i love giving Soap a thick scottish accent

[soapssock]

Soap: Is Ghost pretty? Aye. Won't lie, he's a bonnie. Do I think about him a lot? Aye, all the time. Do I care about him? Aye. Do I wish he would run his thumb along ma' lips? 100%. Do I want him tae manhandle me? PLEASE. Does that make me gay? Na. It doesn't.

Gaz, holding a clipboard, stunned for his life: Say, will you repeat the fourth and fifth one again?

Soap: I want him tae manhandle me, Gaz, and brush his thumb across ma' lips—

Gaz: Get out.

[forsworned]

CASUAL ft. FWB!JOHNNY 'SOAP' MACTAVISH

Warnings: Sexual Content, AFAB!Reader, FWB, Angst to Comfort

Author's note: Because Soap brainrot, that's all

Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out Is it casual now?

The death grip you have on his mohawk as he sloppily eats you out with such vigor is making your legs shake so hard as you climax for the third time in the backseat of his truck. A gentle slap and a tender kiss to your clit after he's done supping you up and then he's adjusting himself in his trousers to make himself a little more comfortable under the restricting material.

"I gotta go now." He breathes, rubbing your bare thigh and you shiver at his touch. He always had to go. And honestly you could feel your heart dropping to your stomach as he flashes you that casual, boyish grin.

You only nod as you recollect yourselves and climb back to the front seats. Your heart on your sleeve as he pulls at your place and you're turning to him with a bashful smile. His baby blue are distant but he gives you a warm, good-natured grin as he rubs your thigh.

"Good seein' ya, lassie." He points his chin to the door as a gesture for you to hit the road in the most "polite" way possible.

You were no stranger to Johnny's detached ways. He was an avoidant at best when got his and he was sending you on your way to do whatever it is that you do before he hits you up again with a, "You up?" text.

Ugh.

"Dude, you deserve better." Your friend shakes her head at you as she pinches at a fry and pops it into her mouth.

"Honestly, he's a fucking asshole. He should be on his knees asking to be your man, not just the backseat of his truck." Your other friend chides, but it's lost on you. Their voices drown out as you peer over at your buzzing phone.

"You free tonite, lassie?"

"Don't" They quip at the same time, but it's tossed to the backlogs of your mind when you rush home after your hang out.

He's already there leaning against your doorway, swinging his car keys between his fingers as he lustfully gazes down at you. And in no time he's jovially, hungrily taking your face between his stout, calloused hands and kissing you passionately, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist as he grinds into you. And you can't take it anymore, you want him. You want him so fucking bad and you didn't care if it was casual. Or whatever bullshit, avoidant bullshit he was feeding you.

You wanted him, craved him. You waste no time pulling aside your panties as he merely unzips his jeans to free his hard, girthy cock and presses it between your succulent, dripping folds, and his thick brows are furrowed together in euphoria. He casts a small glance down at you to make sure you're all right as he pushes himself deeper into you. It's a pleasant burn as he stretches you out, and you welcome it because fuck, it feels so fucking good when he's filling you up, but when he's done emptying himself out you're hollow once again as he's zipping his jeans back up.

He adjusts his brown leather jacket and gives you a wink and kiss to the cheek before he's on his way out.

And you almost feel like crying when he's gone. Just the remnants of his cologne and splooge still left on your linen sheets.

Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach Is it casual now?

And then you're at the grocery store, picking out what bouquet would be the prettiest as your centerpiece, and feel a pair of arms wrap around you, a steady kiss to the cheek, and a rumbling Scottish accent in your ear, "Hey, sexy."

You visibly melt at his touch and he loves the way you're wrapped around his finger. Addicted to how pliant you are for him in every conceivable way.

"Ey, Johnny, ye gonna introduce me?"

And you both freeze at the voice. An awkward laugh escapes his chest as he's moving away from you and see a woman who adorns strikingly similar features to him.

"Ma, this is..."

"[name]." You smile that glorious smile of yours and for a second it's got Johnny kinda dazed. He's blinking out of his stupor, but something about the way you shake his moms hand and so effortlessly talk to her stirs something in him. A side he's never bothered to explore because he was waaaay too busy exploring your insides.

"Ye should come t' our house in Long Beach. We're havin' a wee, friendly get-together. Bring a pal, even." Her accent is thicker and even less coherent to your ears than Johnny's is so it takes you a second to decode what she's saying. And suddenly your face lights up and--uh, oh, Johnny's in trouble now.

Because she's smacking him across the head with her rolled-up wad of weekly ads that she picked up from the market and scolding him for not telling her about you.

"Aye, Johnny, I knew what ye're up to. She's a braw lassie. Get yerself sorted!" She spews as he opens the passenger seat door for her, rubbing the back of his head. You almost feel bad for him as you watch him get reprimanded by his mother from your car. But it's almost a little too embarrassing that you could tell what the conversation was about.

And he's trying his best not to be a dickhead when you do actually show up at the party, but you're lighting the room up with every step as you're being engaged and thrown into a cacophony of banter and laughter. And you're actually so fucking funny? Like, really funny, like he's keeling over and clutching his stomach funny and it's not just because of the persistent buzz of his ale.

You're witty and sexy and downright fucking gorgeous, especially when the sea breeze picks up and sends your hair back a little and it's like a slo-mo in those romcoms Johnny was forced by his mother to watch when he was growing up. And how could he forget about how gentle you were when you're speaking to the wee ones. Weaving wildflower crowns and plaiting hair as you coo at them so maternally. And the cheeky little grins you would have on your face as you whisper little nonsensicals to them, and melodious giggles that follow.

Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuck.

Is it casual now? I know what you tell your friends

But then you're heaving after your second orgasm, he's still pounding away at you and there's a different look in his eyes as he bends down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. He's overstimulating your clit and telling you what a sweet girl you are for him and that sends you over the edge and he's pulling out to cum all over your belly in hot white spurts.

Another kiss to your forehead before he gets up to what you think is him getting a towel to clean you up but he's lifting you over his shoulder in one swift movement and you're giggling all the way over to the shower. And then there's another round of deep, thrusting into your a-spot against the cold shower tiles until you're rolling your eyes back and begging for him to let you cum.

And that release is something else and he's smiling at you with his teeth latched between his lips, soaked dark lashes that frame his pretty cerulean blue eyes that send you into a trance. Honestly, heart eyes motherfucker because that's exactly how you would describe yourself in that moment as you gaze at him. He's just too damn pretty for words.

And how gentle he is when he's helping you clean off, but his presence is stripped too quickly for your liking. He's toweling himself down and grabbing his boxers as he puts his clothes back on, and you can only stand there studying him from the shower. He's leaving again and your heart was sinking.

But then you're hearing his voice, and you peep you head out just a bit to catch the conversation.

"Girlfriend?" He laughs, "not even close, mate."

And you could almost just disappear down the drain. You felt humiliated as you swamp out the rest of the exchange under the din of the hot water hitting your eardrums.

"She's mare like wifey material." He chuckles, thumbing through his camera roll in the little album he's titled, "Bonnie <3".

It's pictures he's collected over the past year of the both of you, some candid, (a lot) some in bed, and a ton from the night at the beach house. You were truly so beautiful and Johnny was getting caught up in you and he was no longer fighting it.

And I try to be the chill girl That holds her tongue and gives you space

But you're getting fed up when you're in the middle of movie night and Johnny decides it's the best idea to watch Good Will Hunting. And it's the scene where Will and Skylar are breaking up and it's tearing you up inside when you see Johnny get a bit misty-eyed. You can't help yourself. You reach for the remote and pause it before, turning to him with anger and frustration in your eyes. And he's reaching out for you to calm you down with a flummoxed gaze, but you're refusing his touch and comfort.

And Johnny is sent home with his tail between his legs, speeding down the highway as he blasts Johnny Cash and attempts to suppress the earlier occurrence. It's unpleasant. The feeling that's settling into his chest and it feels tight.

He pumps the brakes. Hard.

And he's reversing in the middle of an intersection, cars are honking, people yapping at him but it's white noise as he's racing back to your place.

And with his heart in his hand, he's thumping urgently at your door and it feels like a millennia before you're opening it.

Tear-stained blood-shot eyes, disheveled hair in his Scotland flag embroidered hoodie he misplaced a month ago. He stares at your sniffling, crumpled form. Oh, how could he have done this to such a beautiful woman?

"I was lookin everywhere fer that hoodie." He says softly. His eyes are glossy as he blinks down at you, half smile and all.

You peer at the hoodie and then up at him. "What do you want? The hoodie? Here."

You begin to take it off but he's shaking his head and pulling it back down especially when he realizes you have nothing on underneath and he would be baring you out to the world. He heaves himself inside and you're scrambling against his arms, trying to push him out but of course, Johnny outsizes you by way too much to even make him move. He's holding you by the waist, leaning his forehead against yours as he dabs at the tears in the corner of your eyes.

"Y're so beautiful, [name]." He murmurs.

You're watery eyes, ream at his words. He had never said that to you before and your heartstrings are being pulled in every direction.

"What...?"

He kisses your cheek so tenderly and you feel like your ascending, "I said, y're beautiful, [name]. 'n' I wish I told ye that earlier."

You gaze down at his shoes not wanting to meet his eyes but he lifts your chin and meets your lips with the softest kiss he's ever bestowed upon you. It was so chaste yet so ardent and it made your heart skip a beat.

"I don't understand." Your thoughts are racing at this point and he can see it in your eyes. How absolutely head over heels you are for him and he was too much of a dickhead to really acknowledge it, how utterly striking you were, how perfectly imperfect you were. Going out of your way for him and fuck, he did not deserve it. Not then and maybe not even now, but realizing what a catch he has in his literal palms, he doesn't want to let go. And he will do anything to make up for it.

"'m sorry, hen. Never should have treated like ye were rubbish. Ye should be cherished 'n' protected." He brushes the hair out of your face and it is a painful revelation standing there in front of you with his heart on display and he's wondering how you were so brave to be doing it baring it out for him every time. And still, he would reject it like the bastard he was. Refusing to let you in when all you wanted was to be preserved, served, and loved.

"Johnny, I--" You croak out, tears cascading down your cheeks and you're looking back down at the ground, but he gently cups your cheeks.

"No, I love you, [name]. An' if ye let me, 'll do everythin' an' anythin' to make it up to ye. Ye were always there f'r me, an' it's about time I return it."

He shakes his head, wiping away his eyes. "Damn, 'm pure shite at this, but I hope ye can forgive me."

But as warm as your heart was, you have to stand firm. Johnny had hurt you in so many ways so, it wasn't going to be easy for you to just say yes. "You really hurt me, Johnny..."

"I know, I know, but 'm a man of action an' 'll do anythin'." He's pleading and to say that it isn't satisfying as fuck to see this beautiful, brawny man that you've been fucking for the past year groveling for you, was simply a lie.

"Ye gettin' off to this?" A smile graces his lips and you try to hold back, but you can't help but smile back at him.

Everything is so infectious about Johnny and it kills you.

"Fuck you." You breathe out, running a hand through your hair.

And he can't help but attack you with kisses and lift you up before crushing you under his weight as he lays you out on your mattress. Giggling like a maniac you remember to compose yourself even if it felt like the surface was breaching. There's a pause and you're both gazing into each other's eyes as you intertwine fingers, and Johnny is kissing you again, but it's different. It's really full of love and admiration.

He sighs in content for a moment before withdrawing and peers down at you. "S'what d'ya say? Gimme a chance?"

You cock a brow and smile at him. "You really are in no position to ask me."

"But..." "I'll sleep on it."

He's beaming at you now and you're totally getting flustered under his gaze. He wasn't going to let you slip away this go around.

"Deal."

[konigsblog]

tw: dub-con/non-con

but, pornstar!soap?! ive talked about pornstar!price a couple months back, but... 😵‍💫

he's famous for his rough sex, and his rough, scottish accent. people love watching as he ruins your tight asshole, corrupting you, filling you up and stretching you out with his thick girth, leaving you drooling and babbling for more and more.

the way he records you sucking him off.. with one hand on his thigh and the other holding his dick by the base, you sloppily suck him down and greedily. the viewers always manage to make comments on your eagerness to take him fully — that you're a greedy, dumb thing for wanting it all.

pornstar!soap most definitely will record your sex from above almost everytime, giving the viewers his view and angle so that porn rotted, deranged and lonely men can jerk off to the thought of fucking john mactavish's girlfriend.

it's as if johnny likes sharing you — i mean, his most popular video is of him allowing simon to fuck your pretty hole while you're blindfolded and unaware that it's not johnny who's fucking your pussy... whilst he watches and dotes on you ‘til your brain is fuzzy and confused on who's fucking your cunt.

(cuckold soap...)

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Northern attitude

Previous chapter

a/n I welcome you to the second part for more Sugar and Ghost. Did I have a right to form attachment to these two in two chapters? No. But here I am. Enjoy.

summary: mission gone bad, feels a little like enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort sort of goodness.

warnings: blood, wounds, needles, death, hospitals, IV's, vomiting, trauma... I think that's all...

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"Keep the chest compressions going", the female voice filled the space that now seemed as buzzing as the actual hospital room. Not that any of them truly had been in the midst of it all. But army hospitals, especially while on the move, could and did get chaotic at times. "You'll need another shot of adrenaline", a calm and collected tone instructed. Gaz looked into Soap's eyes, who has been ramming at your heart for some time now. The two males nodded at one another. "Coming in 3 2 1", Gaz called out as they switched for only a heartbeat or two. Soap's hand left your chest, while Gaz aimed the needle right toward your left shoulder.

Simon felt as if he was in a daze. In one of his nightmares, maybe. Yeah, maybe that's what it was. One of his nightmares where he was aware that he was in his mind traps. Yet he didn't recall what had happened after he started shaking your body. Who pulled you out of his arms? Who pushed him to the side?

"Go back to stimulating the heart, Johnny. Hum, while you're at it", Ghost knew that voice now that his brain had granted him a moment of clarity. Eleanor Price's wife was a medic and a woman not ready to give up on her adoptive daughter. Desperate and ready to do anything. Make the four basic medical knowledge-baring males do everything they can so her baby girl will come back home. Come home, but not in a casket. Simon had no clue who even dialed her number. The phone was used for emergencies only. They were strictly advised not to use it until it was a life-or-death situation. The call had to be directed straight to the base. Eleanor wasn't at the base. But somehow, that made Simon calmer. He was happier that it was her and not some careless idiot in charge.

"You need to start the drip", another desperate order filled the space. "I can't, El,", Price said, running a hand through his face in frustration. "John, for fuck sake, you've done it before. Put it in her hand, the palm; don't go full vein, but do it damit", that was the first time Simon caught onto her voice, quivering. For a split second, her cool doctor mask had slipped, making Price clench his jaw so tight that his voice was barely a groan. "Eleanor", he breathed. "Keep humming, Soap," she barked at the man now responsible for pumping your heart, ignoring her husband. And Soap did. His humming grew louder. I got a pocket—a pocket full of sunshine echoing from the walls, accompanied by his thick Scottish accent—now that he too was under lots of stress.

Gaz ran back into the main room with the pouch full of liquid. "Got it", he said breathlessly. "Good, you see that there are two different colored liquids?", Gaz nodded too overstimulated to realize that Eleanor could not see him. "There is", Price said for him. "Good, bend it. It needs to mix, then start the drip, or so help me, God, I will never forgive you, John".

Maybe not a nightmare. Maybe a bad movie. One Ghost hoped he would forget eventually. He just sat there. While everything buzzed around him. For the very first time, he felt helpless. That was a lie. He had only felt helpless that night. The night when all of the people he loved got slaughtered. The night he was forced to lock the last bits of his humanity away. To promise himself that no one would ever get close to him. He would not make friends. He would never fall in love. But here he was. Your blood was still all over him. Simon's hands were tinted. Permanently tinted. It felt almost like an out-of-body experience. He knew this was happening, but a part of him kept on screaming that this was not real and couldn't be. That fate wouldn't be so cruel. Yes, Ghost wasn't a good man, but selfishly, he was sure that after all that he had been through, his debts had to be paid off by now.

Ghost didn't know why, but his brain took him back to the base. The room you two shared. Did he hate it at first? Yes. But you brought peace. You brought life. His room was bland and colorless. Now, with your posters and books, plants, and fucking throw blankets, it felt like living there was intensional. Like you, and only you had to return there. And that was important to Simon. He cared about it. Cared about you even if his snarling demeanor wouldn't let it show.

There were nights when he would find you passed out with your book in your hands. The hardcover digging into your neck. It was not enough to hurt, but it sure had to be uncomfortable. Simon had stood there for a solid ten minutes, the first time it had happened, just watching your slumbering frame. He turned around and went about his nightly routine. He had gone and laid down in his bed. But only a handful of moments later, he was out, crossing the white line. He had gently pulled the book from your skin, using your pen to mark the page you were on. Pulling the blanket over your shoulders because the base got rather cold at night. He told himself that he couldn't allow a soldier on his team to get sick because manpower was crucial, but deep down, he knew that any other lad could be freezing his balls off for all he cared. It was you. You were the main factor in this equation. There was something even back then that didn't sit well with him when it came to you not being well.

"It's bleeding, Eleanor", John's desperate voice filled Ghost's mind, and it was like his systems had been restarted. His eyes darted toward the table. Onto John's slumped shoulders as he fidgeted with the needle. Simon jumped up. He rounded the table to push John's hand off as he reached for the tape, repositioning the very tip of the needle before securing it in place. "You need to keep it stable", Eleanor's voice rang out. "Simon just did it", John breathed out. The room stilled for a moment. They were running out of things they could do to keep you alive. To keep you with them. Ghost held onto your hand. He hoped that everyone would take it as just him making sure that your skin wasn't puffing up, indicating that the incision was done incorrectly. And none of the men, sweaty and mentally exhausted, would have said anything. But Eleanor did.

"Simon, you're okay, sweetheart?", It was so soft. Too soft. She should be yelling. Simon was responsible for what had happened here. Maybe even more, because he should have ripped all the doors that separated him from you. Should not have followed everyone into the safe house. "She will fight; you know it; you stay strong for her. She needs you", Ghost bit onto his cheeks, feeling the taste of iron filling his mouth. He had met Eleanor a couple of times. The woman was an angel. How John had landed her was beyond him, but she was exactly what you had been for the team. A breath of fresh air. Some days when everyone was off duty, she would ring up everyone, inviting them for a barbecue at her and Price's shared home. "Positive", Ghost breathed out, yanking the wall of steel back up. He couldn't let himself feel it. Not here. Not now.

"Her chest", Soap's two words were enough to shift the focus back to the table. His big eyes looked between the rest of his team and the women on the living room table. "Soap", Eleanor's voice carried both worry and hope. "It's moving, she's...", Johnny's voice died down, only to be overshadowed by Eleanor's once more, "Count her pulse for me; tell me if it's steady enough". No one breathed for a moment, as if afraid to chase it away. As if they inhaled too much oxygen themselves, there would not be enough for you. A minute passed. Two. Three.

"Yeah", Johnny breathed, "It's steady. Weak but... but...", a sob slipped past his lips, followed by a cry from Eleanor. Gaz sank to his knees, his chest heavy, as he tried to catch his breath. John moved past them all, rushing towards the side door. But the distance between him and the room wasn't big enough for the rest of them to not hear him heaving. "Fucking hell, Bonnie, you just took ten years of my life", Soap carefully ran his hand over your leg, his head falling back as the quiet tears continued to flow. "Keep a watch on her for me, boys", Eleanor sniffled from the other side. Simon leaned over. His face pressed into your side as he tried to keep his tears at bay. Not even for a moment letting go of your hand.

That was three weeks ago. They had managed to keep you alive for two days in that house. Two days. Finally, transportation from the base was provided to get all of them out of there. The doctors had told them straight to the face that what they had been doing was God's work. They were the reason you were still breathing. But even under the unfaltering gaze of the base doctors, Ghost still couldn't shake the feeling of you slipping away.

Simon was down in the medical wing every day. Some days, he stood for hours in the corner of the room. Some days, he pulled himself a chair and sat by your side. It was the nights that were the hardest, though. Because now all Ghost saw was you. All he felt was a lack of your presence. If he did manage to slip into a restless sleep, he would be up in no time. Sweaty and panting. He would reach for his hoodie as he moved through the quiet hallways to get to you.

"Debrief starts at five", Soap's head popped into the hospital room. Making Ghost stutter on the last words that he was reading as he slowly lowered one of your books to his lap. Most of his mornings looked the same. Quick shower. Breakfast if he was up for it. Your hospital room. Training. Back to your hospital room. Days when he had to be in meetings or debriefs were the ones he hated the most. That meant he had to be away from you for longer than he was willing. "Copy", he said sternly, eager to at least finish the page he was on. And even more so, hoping that Soap would go away. Simon had nothing against the guy. Out of everyone, he liked Johnny the most. The two had a similar sense of humor, and working together never felt like a never-ending nightmare. Just the Scot talked a lot. At times, it was fun, and Simon's ever-running brain benefited from it. But there were times, like now, when he wished that the man would get the message and go his own way. "Ain't my place to say this, but...", the door cracked open a bit more, "I'm sure that she loves that you're here", Simon was so glad that his back was turned to Soap because he was sure that he would be able to see his face falter. Fingers grinning at the book just a bit tighter. "Copy, Soap, you can go", Ghost's tone was more than unamused. He didn't want to break in front of any of them. The safe house had already been a dead giveaway of how Simon felt when it came to you. And he didn't want anyone to know anything else. "And she...", Soap started once more, but Ghost just lifted his hand up, making all sounds die down. "Copy", Simon said thickly through his teeth. He knew that it was selfish to push everyone away like that. You two were also friends. Close ones at that. Simon knew that Soap loved you. He had a front-row ticket to watch that after the mission went south. But he just couldn't. Couldn't do it now. When the door quietly kicked shut, Simon let out a sigh, his eyes darting towards the clock on the wall. He had to go, even if he didn't want to.

"I'll be back", he muttered softly, placing the book on the little table by your bed. "Will finish reading that book for you later", Ghost reached his hand out, softly running his fingers over your forehead, lingering touches stretching out for longer than they should. "You sleep well, Sugar", he breathed out, leaning in to place a kiss on the side of your head and stilling right beside you as he let himself listen to the sound of your breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. And he was pulling away, running a hand through his face before he walked out of the room.

Ghost barely said a word in the debrief. When Kate asked for his input, the man shrugged his shoulders and said, "You read my report; you know my thoughts". Was the upper management getting fed up with him at this point? Most definitely. Yet no one managed to put the lack of everyone's involvement against them. Most of the base had been rather quiet when they wheeled you through the corridors, almost lifeless. And yes, the key thing was not to get emotionally attached. Teammates came and went, but everyone knew just as well how tight everyone in this group was. Or came to realize that with the four men following the doctors in one quick stride.

"Ghost", Price's voice yanked Simon back to the meeting room. An almost empty meeting room at that. "A word alone in my office", the captain said, only waiting for a head nod before walking away. Simon followed suit. He knew there was no other option. "Eleanor said you didn't call her back", John mused, reaching for the lighter as he puffed out smoke. Ghost's face stayed blank as he muttered, "I didn't see the call". That was a lie. He did. And there was more than one. Simon just couldn't pick up. The same way he couldn't watch the way Price's wife had sobbed in her husband's chest when they had just returned. The guilt was too much. The sight of her sobbing only made Simon think that it was over. An hour. Maybe two. And your body will be in the bag. Stored away in the cold room.

"Simon", John snapped his hand in front of Ghost's eyes, making the male blink a couple of times. "Is that all, sir?", his voice was grim. Even Simon was struggling to recognize himself. John frowned, "Don't you sir me, boy", a warning finger was jabbed into Simon's chest. A moment of silence. A deep exhale. "Her vitals are getting better. She will pull through", Price said softly, clapping Ghost's shoulders, but the man simply shook his head and said, "You don't know that". And it's like that's all Price needed to realize where the stem of all of this denial was rooted. "I called the shots there. It's on me, not you", the captain said firmly, that same warning finger now pointing directly at his chest. Neither of them said anything else afterward. They just stood there. Eyes burning into each other.

Price's eyes narrowed for a moment before he muttered, "Do you like her? My, Sug, do you like her?", the question threw Simon off the hilt. He didn't expect it here. Now. It wasn't supposed to be discussed here. Like that. And my Sug... Fucking hell. It was his captain's daughter Simon was falling for. Biological or not, she was still a daughter. And for the first time, did he realize how much shit this could bring you both? Maybe it was one-sided even. But the way you held onto him. Your touch. Simon had never been touched so tenderly in his life. And what's more, for the very first time, he didn't want to pull away. "Because if you play...", Price's tone shifted completely as he spoke his words, and Ghost cut him off quickly, "Positive. I do... I like her". John simply nodded at his words, making Simom mimic his movements. The older male scratched his chin before waving Simon away, and he didn't waste a minute before turning away. He'll deal with the potential consequences later on.

Simon was almost out the door when a voice stopped him. "Simon", Price called out once more, making the soldier turn back, "I expect you to mow my lawn in the summer". A strange, warm sensation filled Simon's chest as he looked at the man in front of him, smiling as he puffed out another cloud of smoke. Ghost lets himself linger for a heartbeat more before he closes the door, heading towards the medical wing once more.

"I also overwatered your succulent", Simon said quietly as he looked out of the window in your room. The rest of the team had slowly turned the little, awfully sterol-looking room into a somewhat comfortable place. Or at least a place that screamed less about the inevitable outcome they all feared the most. A plush blanket. Some of your books. A night lamp in the shape of a duck. That was a gift from Soap. Was it slightly questionable? Yes. But everyone dealt with this in their own way, so if bringing you a light-up duck made Soap happy in some way, so will it be.

"I bought you a new one, but... still felt like you should know", Simon continued. He was doing this a lot. Way too much. Maybe? Ghost wasn't sure what was normal or not at this stage. Yet he couldn't help but feel that you would be sitting there with an eyebrow lifted at the number of words he was sharing. One thing everyone knew was that Ghost didn't speak unless it was necessary. Some called it arrogance. Others said that that was just his cold demeanor. The truth was, no one truly stopped to listen or cared for Simon for most of his life. So he got used to it. But talking to you, at least now, made him feel lighter. Besides the reading he did here, Simon also went over meetings with you. A part of him didn't want you to feel left out. Not that your unconscious body cared, but... if you could hear him. He wanted you to feel involved. Then there were an endless amount of stories about how and who had pissed him off that day.

"I...", Ghost's voice dies down as he turns back to face you. You looked like a doll laid neatly on the sheets. They have moved the IV out today. Nothing more but a heart monitor left running. Eleanor had no doubt been here while he was in the debrief because your hair had been brushed. Simon let out a sigh as he pulled a chair for himself, quickly shrugging off his gloves.

"You know, you caught my attention the moment I saw you", his hand hovered above yours for a moment. He didn't trust himself to touch you. What if he harmed you in some way? What if he triggered a negative reaction? "Fucking hell, did you keep us on your toes", Ghost shook his head, "I took it for granted. I'd do anything to see you striding past the main entrance once again". Simon let his head fall over your stomach. Oddly enough, that was the only time that his head seemed to work these days. Taking a deep breath, Simon let the feeling of your body slowly ground him. You're here. With him. He can hear your heart beating. Your body is no longer cold. You even have some of your color back. He can...

A sudden rustling of the sheets makes every single muscle in Simon's body seize. For a moment, he can't even hear his own heart as he stays as still as he can. One heartbeat. Another. Nothing. Devastation rushes through him. He had gotten so sensitive to the sounds in this room. A gentle hand caresses his scalp, and Simon jerks away.

Blinking rapidly, only to find your half-hooded eyes open. Looking right back at him. "No", Simon muttered, fully convinced that his lack of sleep had finally gotten the best of him. He doesn't move away, but he digs the back of his palm into his eyes. "Simon...", and it's barely a whisper. So weak still, but it's there, and... Simon's shoulders quiver. There's no sound. Not a single hick-up, but you know.

Every single part of your body feels as if it's on fire. The room is dim, but gods, it's still too bright for your sensitive eyes. Yet you can't take your eyes away from the man drowning in his own emotions right next to you. You carefully reach out for him, muscles soar from the lack of movement. Brushing your fingers through his hair. Scratching his scalp. You have no idea how long you've been out, but you've heard him talking. Soothing the anxiety of being trapped in nothing but darkness.

"Si", You breathe out once more, trying to tug at his wrist softly. Wanting nothing more than to see his eyes once again. Simon gives in instantly, the tears soaking his mask. You try to wipe some of them away, but his fingers wrap around your frail wrist. For a second, you are convinced that he will push you away, but he does quite the opposite. With both of his palms, Simon presses your hand into his cheek. Leaning into your touch.

"You died... I held you," he says through heavy breaths, pulling at your heart, "You... the blood". You shake your head slowly. "Look at me", you say softly, coughing slightly. At the feeling of your dry throat, Simon is out of the chair, lifting the water jug to pour you a glass before carefully cradling your head as he helps you take a couple of sips. That's enough to chase some of the big emotions away. Enough to give time for Ghost to pull the iron mask back on, but his eyes still glisten.

"I'm here, aren't I?", you whispered, "That pink rug was too appealing to give up", you joke slightly, and it's enough to make Ghost let out somewhat of a chuckle. "You don't have to die to buy a rug for our room", Simon says, head turning to look at the monitor as if waiting to see something that would still prove to him that this wasn't happening. "You look like shit, LT. Losing sleep over a girl doesn't look good on you", you mutter, and Simon lets out a dry huff. "Because I'm a decent bloke, I won't comment on how you look", you let out a gasp in return, and that nearly sent him flying off his chair because the man is on such high alert that anything rings danger bells in his head now. "I'm okay, just trying to be dramatic with you", you say, squeezing his hand softly, trying to get him to calm down once more. Silence falls. Not an uncomfortable one. One that fully captures the shared amount of words running through both of your minds.

"I heard you, you know? Kind of pissed that you think that Jack deserved to get his heart broken," Simon snorts, running his fingers through his hair. His shoulders droop. All of the adrenaline that's been keeping him upright is finally wearing off. Leaving him feeling heavy and weak. "Should I get the others? Price would...", Ghost breathed, turning to get up, but you grabbed onto his hand quickly. "I just want you right now", you muttered straight away, realizing how dumb and desperate that sounded, "If you don't mind".

Simon scoffed, "Sugar, I sat here for three weeks begging for all the holy things that you would pull through", You bit your lip at his words. You knew that he did. You felt him. Heard him. Smelled him. He had been your lifeline all this time. "If I could, I would pull rank to get myself off duty so I could sit here till you fully recover", Ghost says, rolling his eyes, now doubtful at everyone who has been up his ass for not attending every single meeting. You smile at him weakly, feeling the little bits of your energy slowly giving out. Yet you still muster what's left of it to move your head up so you could run your fingers beneath Simon's eyes, where the darkest tired bags screamed about the lack of sleep he was getting.

"Get in bed," You tap the side next to you softly. You have no idea how you both will fit here, but you can't watch him practically fall asleep by your side. He had already spent way too many nights in that tiny plastic chair. "Shouldn't we at least go on a date first?", Simon jokes, making your cheeks grow crimson, and you're convinced that they are a dead giveaway of how you are feeling. "Oh, fuck you...", you huff, trying to frown, but the smile that tugged at your lips was too strong. "Lay with me, so you could sleep. So we both could sleep", you say once more, not letting go of his hand. With the size of this man, the bed will get crampy. But you didn't care. You needed to feel him close. To just know that he was with you. Fully. As if reading your mind, Simon got up, climbing into the bed from your good side. Making sure your uninjured shoulder was pressed against him.

"Is this okay?", he said after a moment of you two moving around to find a comfortable position for the two of you. "You can wrap your hands around me; you don't have to lay there like a log", you chuckled, tugging at his sleeve and urging him to cling onto you the way you were clinging to him. Ghost chuckled softly, leaning in to kiss your head. Your hand instantly moves up to cradle the side of his masked face. The feeling of the soft material soothing to your senses. "I fucking missed you", Ghost breathed after a moment of silence. Fingers running up and down your back. You slowly peeled your eyes open, fighting the tiredness just for a heartbeat longer. Meeting his soft eyes as looked down at you. "I missed you too, Simon. Been missing you since the moment I saw you", you smiled softly, turning to press a loving kiss on his chest, right over his heart, before you lay your head back, listening to the steady drumming.

[thelaisydazy]

Band!141 x Reader - Subway

Just a little something I've had rattling around my brain this week~

You've never run faster in your life, you're not even sure your feet are hitting the ground between your frantic steps as you race towards the open subway car. You can't miss this train. Not today. Please, not today.

Today is the most important day of your life. The day you audition for a spot in the city's most prestigious ballet companies. If you miss your chance, you won't be able to try again for another year, and you don't know if you'll be able to afford to stay in the city if you don't get into the company. And you refuse to go home a failure. 

From the open train car you hear shouting. Voices calling for you to hurry. The train was about to leave. Nononono. The door starts to close as you run up to the train, just a split second too late. Then it opens again, a large black boot keeping the door from closing completely. 

You look up and see four large men, one of which has stuck his boot out to hold the door open for you. He smiles down at you, the corners of his blue eyes crinkling. He’s older, handsome. His dark brown hair and beard sporting some specks of gray.

“Y’made it love,” he says in a deep, warm voice that makes your heart race. 

“Thanks,” you say quickly, slipping past him and the three with him. The car is packed with nowhere to sit and almost nowhere to stand either. Except right near the group you pushed past on your way onto the train. Sheepishly you make your way back towards them. 

The one that stopped the door for you smiles again and another one, younger with dark curls, waves you over. You’re hesitant, but you go over. 

“One seat left ‘ere,” he says, beckoning to a seat he’d been standing in front of. You mumble another thanks and slip into the seat, trying your best to make yourself as small as possible, missing the way the group smiles at each other.  

“Where you rushing off to love?” the first one asked. The word burly comes to mind as you look up at him. He’s wearing a white tshirt under a well-worn leather jacket, a pair of beat up black jeans and a black beanie. Slung over his back is an instrument case, it looks like a guitar, but you don’t know much about instruments so it could be a bass. 

“I have an audition downtown,” you say, fidgeting with your duffle bag in your lap. 

“‘At Danc’n Knights place?” another one chimes in with a Scottish accent. This one is the shortest of the bunch, though he still towers over you. He’s broad, dark stubble on his pierced face and a mohawk. He’s wearing a spiked leather vest over a black sleeveless shirt and a kilt. He’s standing closest to the largest of the bunch, a large, blond man wearing a privacy mask that resembles a skull.

You nod. You hadn’t wanted to tell them, but the decal of a ballerina on your duffel bag, along with the tight bun you wore your hair in, was definitely enough to give it away. “Dancing Knights, yeah,” you say. “They’re looking for new ballerinas.”

“We’re heading to a recording studio near there,” the second man says. Getting a better look at him, he’s darker than the rest of the group, his eyes are the softest though, dampening the nervousness in your chest. He’s dressed similarly to the rest of the group, another instrument case on his back and a plaid shirt tied around his hips. “Maybe we’ll be seeing you around there.”

You can’t help but smile up at him and nod. He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a small black card, handing it over to you. “We’re I4I,” he says. “I’m Kyle, everyone calls me Gaz.” He went around pointing to the oldest man first. “That’s John.” Then to the Scottish man. “Johnny, we call him Soap.” And finally the largest of them. “And big guy there is Ghost.”

“Ghost?” you can’t help but ask, looking over the card in your hand. It’s a thick black stock with the band name and a logo featuring a skull with a sword running through it wrapped in a pair of white feathered wings.

Kyle shrugs at you. “Doesn’t like anyone knowing his name,” he says simply. You nod quietly, then give them your name with a polite smile. 

“You’re all in a band then?” you ask, relaxing a little. You were certain whatever they played, it wasn’t something you were into, but they seemed nice enough to at least check out their social media. It was the least you could do after they stopped the subway for you.

“That’s right lovie,” Kyle says. “Next big thing.” He gives you a wink. “Better keep your pretty little eyes out for us.” Your face feels warm at his shameless flirting and he chuckles at you. “We always post when we’re playing next, you should come to one of our shows. We’ll give you the VIP experience.”

“Oh!” you say. “Uh.. sure.. Maybe.” You tuck the card into your duffel. “I’ll keep an eye out if I make this audition.”

“You better make it then little one,” John says, smiling at you as the subway pulls into your stop. “For our sake.” 

[gatorbites-imagines]

What about the cod boys (any of them but please könig included ,,^ ^,,) with a reader that has a touch of the tism/adhd and starts to slowly mirror and mimic their accents? Cause I do that and I think it would be funny to see their reactions

John “Soap” MacTavish, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Rodolfo Parra, and König

Headcanons

John “Soap” MacTavish

-          Soap would be so entertained the first time he hears you speak with a Scottish accent. He would think you did it on purpose in the beginning, until he notices how you are sounding more and more Scottish in your everyday life.

-          He still thinks it’s funny and cute though. Hed end up asking about it, which makes you realize you’ve been doing it. It probably makes you embarrassed, but he just smiles, kisses your cheek, and tells you he thinks it fits you well.

-          Soap cackles when you start using his ways of speaking, the kind that has Ghost telling him to speak English. Especially when he sees the look on Ghosts face when you and Soap have a whole conversation that he can’t keep up with.

 Simon “Ghost” Riley

-          Is it here I should mention if hc that Ghost is on the autism spectrum? He just gives me that vibe.

-          Ghost probably starts copying some of your accent too if you have one, but it would be you copying him more. Neither of you would realize until someone asks if you’re from Manchester. That’s when you both realize you’ve been doing it and you two have a little laugh about it.

-          He thinks its kinda cute, so he won’t make you stop copying his accent. It makes him feel closer to you in some way, like its something special between the two of you.

-          Ghost would find it very entertaining if the accent gets thicker if your drunk, he jokes that you are more British than he is when you get so drunk only he can really understand you with how thick the accent gets.

 Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra

-          Rudy thinks its so cute when you start to sound more and more like him, he especially loves how you pronounce words and how they roll of your tongue. He loves when you speak Spanish too, because you sound more and more like a local even if you’re not.

-          At some point you two end up just speaking a lot of Spanish together, Alejandro joins in too of course.

-          Rudy kisses you lovingly if you get embarrassed about copying him without realizing. He would tell you he doesn’t see it as a problem, and it just makes you more lovely to him.

-          You both use Spanish pet names after a while because you’ve just started picking up his vocabulary at some point. Rudy gets flustered the first time you use one of the pet names he uses for you out of the blue.

-          Alejandro definitely teases you both about this.

 König

-          König is a little confused when you start to sound more Austrian, but he just assumes its something that happens when you are around someone for so long.

-          He thinks its sweet when you use German words in passing like he does, since it’s just something you’ve picked up in passing.

-          König would at some point ask you about it and you explain the whole, copying accents thing that happens sometimes with people who are on the spectrum. He would listen with interest and be like “that’s neat” and go back to cuddling.

-          He mutters all kinds of sweet words to you in German and at some point, you start using the sweet words for him too, which always makes him blush and cover his face.

-          König laughs when at some point you yell at someone in German, because you’ve heard him do it during missions and just started copying him.

[dovabunny]

GhostSoap AU Concept - blind love

Soap is an army vet who lost his sight in an explosion. He now works as a masseur, he's good with his hands and his options are limited.

Ghost is a scarred, disfigured man in pain with insecurities he hid behind thick walls and a mask.

Ghost's body is a mess of injuries old and new, he can't even remember what it's like to not be in pain but always pushes through it. That he's getting older doesn't help either.

Until his back locks up mid mission and he's left in pain that has him limping and wincing.

Price has had enough of him dodging the question and actually orders him to get it looked at. Ghost refuses. First, he will not take off his shirt in front of a stranger, and he most certainly will NOT let a stranger touch him.

Price sighs and says he knows just the place.

If it wasn't an order Ghost wouldn't be here, no way in hell. He's just gonna go in, tell the guy to say he was here and leave.

It's a small parlour, if it can even be called that. A small two story building with a tiny waiting room and a door leading to the back.

But it was at the edge of town away from the bustle of the city, the wilderness literally just across the river next to it.

It helped a bit, the place being so out of the way. Ghost appreciated privacy, after all.

There was no one in the waiting room, but the door jingled when he entered. Soon enough a voice yells 'with you in a sec!', accent thick and Scottish.

THAT was unexpected. He was expecting a woman, possibly old and creepy. It helped a little bit more.

Then the door to the back swung open and he lost his breath a little.

The man walks out with a beaming smile, hair in a fkn mohawk that somehow looked great on him, built like a damn rugby player.

But it was his eyes.

A striking deep blue, but clouded.

At Ghost's silence the man's smile is a bit more forced. "I can tell you're there, ya know."

Ghost snapped out of his daze and stuck out his hand in greeting, then felt like a fking idiot and yanked it back. "It's Ghost, I mean, Simon. Price called about me."

"Ah. The lieutenant! Price told me you might be a flight risk," he chuckled, but somehow it didn't feel condescending or cruel as laughter towards him usually was. It was friendly, warm.

He felt entirely off kilter.

"I'm John MacTavish, call me Soap." He stuck out his hand. Ghost took it and shook, feeling callouses on his soft hands.

"Kind of name is Soap?"

Soap smiled. "It was my call sign. Was called by it so long anything else feels odd."

"You're military?"

"Was. Just entered SAS when," he gestures at his eyes with a strained smile.

Ghost didn't know how to respond, which Soap must've picked up on too cause he quickly followed with a "So! Shall we get started?"

Without waiting for a response, Soap walked to the back, Ghost snapping out of it and following after a beat.

He stood in the doorway and looked around. It had soft lighting, soft music from somewhere that sounded almost Celtic, it smelled... Amazing. Gentle and warm, but no distinct scent he could place.

Soap was moving around with precision, washing his hands and putting things ready.

Ghost had fully intended to go through with his plan - pay the masseuse to tell Price he was here then leave. Maybe buy a heat patch form the pharmacy.

But here, now, in this room with Soap - a veteran who'll understand, who can't see how ugly disfigured he is...

He decides to give it a chance. For the first time since he became a dead man, he's going to get out of his shell and try to take care of himself, to stop waiting for his inevitable death and actually work towards getting better.

In the best hands he could wish for.

[peachfridges]

five times they almost got caught (and one time they did)

request from @soapmeup

Hello! I saw your requests are open and I am in desperate need of some Soap fics. You can write whatever you want I just want more of him!!!

cw: pre-established relationship, slight smut but poor soap keeps getting cockblocked, mentions of injury but nothing graphic, mentions of ptsd, vomiting, nightmares, gaz lives, soap being a flirt despite the circumstances, fluff, swearing, soap and the reader are so in love.

pairing: john ‘soap’ mactavish x soldier! reader.

word count: 2.7k

notes: i love soap so incredibly much and had so much fun writing this! i adore this theme of one-shots so i just had to attempt it. sorry for the late post, i tried to rush it to get it out this week but it was so hard coming up with different scenarios for each one and trying to flesh them out made it even harder.

[one]

"no one's going to see us y/n." soap promised. you didn't believe him one bit. there was no way in hell that not a single person would come down this corridor.

"really now?" you replied, cocking your eyebrow at him. a grin settled on his face. whilst you loved his smile, now was not a good time to see it. it was the same grin he always gave you when he was about to do something stupid. the same 'shit-eating' grin, as ghost had fashioned it after a few drinks in a nearby bar after a mission, that usually ended up with soap injured during a mission.

"really. no one will see us, and you won't have to worry about anyone snitching on us to the Lt. or to the captain." your boyfriend replied.

now, let's put the record straight. you didn't care if your superiors found out. realistically, you knew they couldn't give two fucks. what you did care about, however, was the way you would get incessantly made fun of by them. you were well aware of the fact that if gaz or roach ever found out, you would never be able to live it down.

soap pushed you up against the wall and kissed you. a smile graced your features as you kissed him back. you longed for affection from him, but with your places on task force 141, it was hard to find the time when you didn't know the next place you'd be sent on a mission. his hands held your waist, as one of yours found its way to his hair. the kiss grew deeper as your lips moulded against one another, soap's hand moving its way up your shirt towards your covered breast. a light moan escaped your lips. soap's grin returned, and he was about to move his other hand elsewhere until you heard footsteps coming towards your location.

you quickly pushed soap away, just in time as price walked up to you both. you didn't miss the opportunity to send a sharp glare towards the scotsman next to you.

"everything okay?" price asked, as if your swollen lips and flushed cheeks didn't give at least some incentive as to what had just been happening.

"just peachy, sir." johnny's thick scottish accent prominent as he replied. after a quick glance between the two of you, price had decided he didn't want to know what events he had just narrowly escaped.

"very well." the captain walked away, leaving you and soap alone. you punched his arm, causing the man to let out a yelp.

"okay, okay! maybe some people do come down here. note taken."

[two]

a mission never did run smoothly, as you had quickly discovered after your first few with the 141. you, ghost, and soap were meant to be in and out, a simple 'retrieve the evidence' as laswell had described it. what hadn't been anticipated was just how many members of the drug cartel was going to be there. this was evident when, just as ghost was about to declare that the floor was 'clear', at least four more shooters came at the three of you and managed to get a shot at soap.

"fuck!" ghost shouted, immediately getting to cover and taking shots at them as you moved johnny out of the way of the firing bullets. offering a few deadly shots at the enemy yourself, you returned to face johnny, who had a hand over his leg where the bullet had hit him. after getting a look at the wound, you quickly ascertained that his leg, and soap himself, would be fine, as long as the mission ended sooner rather than later (which was likely when you had ghost with you), and he was seen be a medic as soon as possible.

the wince adorning soap's face told you how much pain he was in, despite him trying to act fine. "soap, speak to me. can you walk?" you asked.

"course i can. might just need a bit of help is all." a chuckle escaped his lips. his face had gone that sickly pale colour, telling that he would soon lose consciousness due to the pain he was in.

"don't lie to me, searg."

"thought i was going to get away with it that time, lass."

having disposed of the cartel members that had ambushed the three of you, ghost made his way over to the two of you.

"i'll find what we need. stay here with johnny until i get back." ghost ordered before walking into the next room, where you had been told the evidence should be located. you turned your attention back to johnny, who was sat up but slumped against the wall you had moved him to.

his eyes met yours, "want to go out for drinks when we get back to base?"

you laughed dryly, "think you might need a bit of time to recover before we go out."

"ah, worth a try." soap hissed in pain as he tried to relieve some weight off of his injured leg. you adjusted your position to apply pressure to his bullet wound, kissing the top of his head as you did so. ghost walked in, holding the hard drive up, assumingly with the evidence on it. panic set in yours and johnny's eyes, had ghost just seen that? he would say something if he had, right?

"let's move," was all ghost said, walking over to you both and hoisting johnny up so you both could help him out.

apparently not.

[three]

after a long mission, price had decided that it would be good for you all to go down to a bar to rewind. alejandro, rodolfo and kate had decided to join you all, as well as ghost and gaz obviously.

the bar was owned by an ex-cia agent who had worked with laswell, so you all had the place to yourself. the liquor you had been steadily drinking for a few hours now was finally going to your head, and it was clear that the others were in a similar position.

gaz and price were sat at the bar with laswell. ghost, alejandro and rodolfo were in a booth a few away from where you and soap were stationed. you were sat close enough to each other that you could feel his hand hold onto yours, but not so close that it could give anyone, especially ghost, an idea about your relationship.

you looked towards johnny, a soft smile on his lips as you locked eyes. “you’re beautiful,” he whispered, low enough for you to hear. you couldn’t help the blush that spread across your cheeks.

“you think?” you replied.

“i do. i’m so lucky to be with you.”

“you’re right about that.” a smirk covered your mouth as johnny rolled his eyes playfully.

in your peripheral vision, you noticed price looking at ghost, nodding towards you and soap. ghost must have indicated some sort of reply, because price let a silent laugh wash over him before turning back towards laswell and gaz.

what was that about?

[four]

as expected, the mission to capture hassan had gone horribly wrong. now, here you were, your wrists bound by a rope behind your back and hassan in front of you.

“you think you can stop me?” hassan shouted at you. you would be lying if you said you weren’t fearful, but you refused to give hassan the satisfaction of seeing it. there were three other iranian soldiers in the room with you. you kept silent as hassan continued, coming up to you as he spoke. “we are not attacking, we are invading.”

hassan grabbed you as a bullet collided with one of the soldiers. the door swung open as bullets were fired around you and hassan. before you knew it, the soldiers were dead and you had a gun pressed against your temple. hassan faced you towards the two british men who had came to your rescue: simon riley and john mactavish. ghost, as always, seemed calm, but even his eyes gave away his slight panic. soap on the other hand? he looked like he was out for blood.

“let her go or we shoot.” ghost demanded. hassan chuckles.

“why should i not just shoot her now?” he pressed the gun harder into your head, causing you to wince from the sharp pain. “you put your guns down and let me leave. she will go free.”

soap and ghost looked at each other in deliberation. “do not compromise the mission for me.” you told them. the mission above all else was more important than your life - you had to save the people you were serving. you knew ghost shared your sentiments, which is why you were so shocked when he followed johnny’s movements in placing their guns on the floor.

hassan let go of you as johnny pulled out his pistol and shot hassan through his heart. the iranian fell dead as soap came over to you and cut the binds from your wrists. “are you okay?” worry was laced through your boyfriend’s tone.

“could be better.” you answered, pain shooting through your body from the numerous wounds you had received from hassan’s men. “thank you.”

“what kind of a man would i be if i didn’t save such a beautiful woman?”

“and that’s enough. soap, help y/n. alejandro is bringing a vehicle to get us away from here.” soap grinned at ghost’s evident uncomfort, living for the satisfaction of annoying the significantly taller man.

soap helped you to your feet, putting an arm under yours to support you. you let him take most of your weight, unable to walk properly due to a deep gash to your leg you had sustained. “we’ll get you straight to a medic when we’re back at base.”

all you could do was nod. you could feel consciousness slipping away from you, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from drooping shut.

when you awoke, you saw you were back in base and in the clinic. you turned to your left and saw soap sat in the chair next to the bed you were lying in, filling in some reports. you moved your hand towards his and he held it, looking up at you. “you’re finally awake, huh?”

you let out a soft ‘mm’, signifying that he was correct.

“they left some nasty hits on you, medic patched you up though. said you should be ready for action within a week as long as you rest.” soap informed you.

“good.” you paused for a moment before continuining, “flirting with me in front of the Lt. now?”

“i saw an opportunity and i had to take it.” he grinned and you let out a chuckle. johnny never did understand subtle, as you’d grown to realise.

[five]

it was 6:42am when you were awoken by the scottish man lying next to you suddenly jolting awake, panting to catch his breath.

you sit up and put a hand on his back that is greeted w a harsh flinch so you quickly move your hand away. “johnny, what’s wrong?” you ask.

“nothing, sorry.” his response was too quick for him to be telling the truth. you held his face and made him look at you and saw his eyes were glistened over.

you knew he was trying not to worry you, but his efforts were having the opposite effect. “please, talk to me. don’t shut me out.” you practically begged.

“had a nightmare. you, um,” he took a shaky breath before continuing, “i saw your dead body. me and Lt. hadn’t got there in time to save you. hassan had killed you and escaped.”

“i’m right here. hassan didn’t kill me and you saved me. i’ll always be right here next to you whether you like it or not.” soap chuckled softly at your end remark.

“that’s true, lass.” his breathing was calming down.

you smile softly. you knew johnny struggled with what he had seen in missions, all of you did. however, you also knew he had a tendency to let it pent up until it became too much as he didn’t want to hastle anyone.

“you can always talk to me about any fears you have. you know that, don’t you?” you questioned.

“i do. i’m sorry.” he rested his forehead against your own, presumably looking for comfort and to ensure you were in fact next to him, and not his imagination in case the dream was real.

“don’t ever be sorry. i love you, so, so much. promise me you’ll remember that.”

“i promise. i love you,” he kissed you gently and you kissed him back. the kiss was long but sweet, something you know he needed. he broke away and murmured, “when all of this is done and we have a bit of free time, i swear i’m going to marry you.”

you couldn’t help the grin that broke out. “is that a proposal?” you teased.

“i suppose it is.”

“i’d love to marry you, johnny.”

“well, i’d hope so.” you both laughed. the rare times where you could just act as if you were two normal people, not fighting in wars where you don’t know if your next breath will be your last, were moments you would remember forever - especially this one. “do you think they’ll care if we don’t make it to the meeting this morning and instead sleep in?”

“i doubt it.”

as you both lay back down and succumbed to sleep once again in each other’s arms, you failed to hear footsteps, belonging to a certain 6’6 man, walking away from the door where he was about to ensure soap was awake for the meeting.

[one]

ghost hadn’t stopped talking for what felt like hours. it had gotten to the point where you could probably recite tomorrow’s mission in your sleep. you hadn’t been paying attention for a while now, instead focussing on everyone’s stances.

gaz had his head leant on his hand, watching ghost but with no focus on the words leaving the masked man’s mouth. price was making notes, writing down everything that was said. it was a sharp juxtapose to soap, who was sat next to him, who you had only just noticed was staring at you.

you returned johnny’s gaze, smiling at him as he grinned back. it wasn’t until several moments later when you both turned to look back at ghost that you saw him glaring at the two of you.

before you could even ask what was wrong, ghost began speaking.

“are you two having a psychic conversation about your wedding or something?”

your jaw dropped and you could see gaz trying to smother his laughter.

“what the fuck, Lt.” soap couldn’t say anything else. you were both speechless.

“did you really think we didn’t know? it was painfully obvious.” price confirmed.

“we’ve all seen the way you look at each other. even alejandro and rudy noticed.” gaz explained. “plus the Lt. and captain have been keeping us updated on everything they’ve overheard or seen.”

“oh, so ghost is a gossip now?” you replied. you couldn’t believe it. had you really been that obvious?

“if that’s what you want to call it.” ghost was having too much fun over this and you knew it.

price spoke up once again, with you wishing he hadn’t. “can i request that next time you two want to have sex, please don’t do it in a corridor where people can walk past? we know you both share a room so please just use that, i don’t care if you ‘can’t wait’.”

you could feel your cheeks heating up. you knew you shouldn’t have trusted johnny about the corridor, and this is proof as to why.

“this is why none of you are being invited to the wedding.” soap interjected. you looked at him and playfully rolled your eyes, already knowing your fiancé would do everything in his power to get ghost to be his best man.

“i think you know we’ll be there, johnny.” ghost replied. “now that you two are paying attention, can we get back to discussing the mission?”

you both replied at the same time, sharing the sentiment of wanting no further embarrassment.

“yes, sir.”

[hyperfixiation-station]

You Promised

TW: Major character death, canon typical violence I wrote this instead of working :3 enjoy Pairing: GhostxReader As always, not proof read, lemme know abt any mistakes/what you think. Also I quite literally wrote this right now so sorry if there's more than the usual amount of mess-ups.

There was a moment, when your eyes first met, that you knew this man would ruin you. It was a sudden burst of clarity, seeing him standing there, face covered, leaning against the wall. It’s like something was trying to tell you that getting involved with him would lead to disaster

Still, you decided to go for it. Those first few months were tense, full of anger and discomfort. It took years to get to where you are now. Years of patience, years of waiting, years of proving to Ghost he was worthy of love. 

The years had been wonderful. You remember the first time you saw his face, the first time your hands touched his hair. You remember the first time you went out, how his cheeks flushed and his eyes wouldn’t meet yours. You remember how it felt when it got down on one knee, both of you panting and bloody.

Yes, the years had been wonderful, but there had always been a sense of foreboding. Something terrible looming on the horizon.  And now, as you hold a cold body, as you card your hands through bloody blonde hair and cry, you know why.

“Stay with me.” You had cried. He had taken a shot meant for you, one bullet straight through his left shoulder and another embedded in his thigh. You had shot the man, emptying your magazine before falling, crashing to your knees beside Ghost’

“Price, I need a Medivac! Ghost is down, gunshot wound to the shoulder and thigh!” You yelled into your comm. Your hands moved to pressure the holes, one to his shoulder, one to his thigh. Just trying to stem the blood. His blood. His blood that bubbled up over your knuckles, thick, hot, and ruby red.

“ETA is 23 minutes.” Price's voice was garbled and broken over the radio, but you could still hear the despair in his voice. You sobbed harder as you realized help will not make it in time.

“Don’t,” Ghost had whispered to you, “I’m not making it out of this one.” His hands moved to your face, gloves shakily wiping tears from your face. 

“You’re coming home,” You had snapped at him, voice breaking, “You promised.” He shook his head softly, reaching up to pull his mask off. Blood leaked from his lips as he coughed. 

“Kiss me,” He had begged you, “Please.” You had shaken your head frantically, eyes blurring with tears, but you gave in. How could you not? Ghost never asked for anything. You could give him this. Your lips met in what was the most passionate, desperate kiss you had every had. You tasted his blood but didn't care, kissing him like it was last thing you'd ever do. You were kissing him when his body seized, and you cradled his head to your chest as he took his last, gasping breaths. You held him as you felt his body go limp and you held him as his body began growing cold. 

Your hand moved to your lips, where his blood was already drying. Tears leaked from your eyes, blurring your vision and soaking the collar of your jacket.

“Please.” You sob into his hair. There is no movement from the man in front of you. Blood seeps from his body, pooling under him, soaking your pant legs. Wind blows your hair around, tears sticking strands of it to your face.

“Simon please,” You practically beg him, “please, please, please.” Your world is breaking apart, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. The only thing that could pull you back from the brink was laying in you lap, unmoving.

Footsteps sound, but you don't go to reach for your gun. You could care less if it is friend or foe. At least you’d be with Ghost if you died.

You feel a hand on your shoulder, and see Soap appear in your blurry vision. The sight of the scot makes you sob harder, your fingers digging into Ghost's unyielding body.

“C’mon sweetheart, let's git him hame.” His Scottish accent fills your ears. His voice is thick, and you can know that the only reason he's not in tears over his best friend is because he's trying to be strong for you.

Your hands shakily trace Ghost’s face, his lips, his scars. You slip his dog tags off and pull them over your head.

“I love you,” You whisper, pressing a kiss to his cold lips, “I love you so fucking much. I love you, I love you, I love you. So wait for me, okay?” You squeeze his lifeless wrist 1,2,3 times. I love you.

Letting go of his body is the hardest thing you have ever done. Soap grabs your arm, helping you up. He lets you lean against him, leading you away as Price and Gaz take the body. You look back with blurry vision, watching them drape a sheet over the stretcher holding your world.

The wind blows across the battlefield, and with it you can hear the echoes of an unheeded warning, a promise of a life of ruin.

I made myself cry while writing this lmao.

[lambiewrites]

got this idea from @xxshadowbabexx hehe ✨

Warning: none, fluff tho

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Would they like me? Part 1

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Captain Price: well yes and no. I’m polite and well mannered but, I am very loud and obnoxious. Not in a whiny, bratty way but in a “I have no thoughts and no singular brain cells” way. Book smart not common sense smart. I have called this man “papaw” since I met him and even though he’s like 40, he’s still papaw. I consistently ask to come to his office because I feel like it’s a comforting little place, minus the cigar smoke. Price has asked about my southern/Appalachian accent more than enough times. I can tell him about mountain life. But he needs a break from me, are you kidding?! I talk way too much and ask stupid questions so, it’s 50-50. But at least I do what I’m told and well mannered.

Gaz: it depends. I really like Gaz and he seems so sweet and kind and polite. I feel like we would get along very well, until I don’t stop talking and he doesn’t know how to shut me up. I get this really strange vibe that he’s a marvel fan and so we can talk about that. I feel like he really likes Spider-Man (all of them) and so we could talk about that. Definitely would call him and say, “did you see that new trailer?” We like each other’s instagram pictures and we wish each other a happy birthday on our socials. I’d bake for him. We’d have sad boy hours together so, yeah I really think so but, I know I’m too loud for him.

Soap: bestie you already know the answer to this one and my answer is 100% yes. We both have big families (everyone headcannons him as having a giant family yeah?) lots of nieces and nephews we could bond over. We’d both try to understand each other thru our thick accents. (Him being Scottish and my southern one-) and it would be a delight! We both ramble and I’d listen to all his fun little stories. I’d follow him around like a lost puppy until he told me to give him space. I’d share a Dr.Pepper with him and cook for him. It would be the best time ever. Bestie for life. We gossip together and doodle together.

Ghost: hmmm, see here’s the thing. I have this feeling that’s like “yeah you’d hate me at first” and we’d just assume we hated each other at first until we have sad boys hours and just sit in absolute painstaking silence for hours. He’d hate me, I know he would because I’d get all “counselor” on him. (Hey I paid lots of money for that degree okay?!) and he wouldn’t be able to get rid of me but, I’d respect his boundaries (obviously) and give him his space (obviously) but he’d find little stupid notes with my handwriting on it being like, “you’re my hero.”, “take it easy”, “have a good day.”, “love you.” (Platonically), “you’re worthy” blah blah blah. He’d hate it so much. He’d throw them away at first but, later on, he’s kinda like “I hate this kid but why is she the way that she is? How can she see something or someone like me and actually like me?!” It gets the gears turning. Would I be a therapist? I would.

Laswell: I follow her around like she’s my own mother. She hates me for it but, it’s good to have another set of eyes. (Mine don’t work) we’re chill. That’s all we do is just chill and relax. It’s hard having so much testosterone around 24/7. We’re out and about. Having mommy-daughter day. Am I crying? I am, how’d you know? We talk about married life. She tells me about her wife, I tell her about my husband. We have dinner at each others house. We show each other our pet pictures.

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A/n: I am very much an extrovert and very loud and bubbly. I am an ENFP and I do have my counseling degree so, combine that into some sort of personality as you will and make your own assumptions ❤️ this was all for fun and feel free to comment or something that would be fun and great! Please be nice though 😭❤️.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[soapssock]

Soap to Ghost: "If I ever die, I want ye tae throw ma ashes in the highlands o' Scotland.

Ghost: You mean spread?....

Soap: SPREAD THAE LEGS!!!!

Ghost flabbergasted: COME AGAIN?

[ghostofthemost141]

Welcome Home Simon

Pairing: Ghost x Soap, Third Person POV

Word Count: 2,601

Themes: !18+! for Suggestive Themes but nothing Explicit, Fluff

About: Johnny welcomes home his significant other after a long and grueling mission.

Notes: I am starting to get into this pairing a lot, they just have so much chemistry with each other and I was heavily inspired by the lovely @wispscribbles and their art 'Welcome Home Simon' to write this so thank you for giving me permission to write this!! I enjoyed doing this. For some reason, this music fits with the theme of this fic so of course I was listening to it the whole time I was writing it. And this is also a situation where Simon is in the military and Johnny isn't. Enjoy!!

The soft distant boom of thunder that occurred every few seconds was enough to keep him awake. Even though it was nearing two o’clock in the morning, he knew it was worth it to see the one he loves the most. Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish never thought this would be his life. A year ago, he was working in a dead end customer service job. He wanted something more in life. It was miserable getting up just to go to a job you hated so much. His life was essentially on repeat back then. Get up, go to work from nine am to five pm, come home, eat some cheap dinner, watch some stupid soap opera show he secretly enjoys, take a shower, go to bed, and then rinse and repeat. Johnny knew there had to be something more to his life, he just wasn’t sure where to look. One day, after work, he decided to try this local new coffee shop that opened up. As he entered, there was a little line but he had all the time in the world to wait. He was not in any rush. 

“I'll just have regular tea, please.” 

Tea? Who the fuck orders tea at a coffee shop? Johnny thought. It was the man in front of the line. The first thing he noticed about the man was how tall and broad he was. Johnny was pretty fit himself but this man was huge. The man wore a dark navy jacket with gray jeans and regular tennis shoes. The second thing he noticed about the man was his thick British accent. Johnny himself was Scottish and everyone always giggles when he starts to talk, simply because of the way he pronounces and says some words, and while it doesn’t bother him for the most part, he can’t help how he sounds and where he is from. The man paid for his tea and stepped to the side to wait for it. Johnny was one more person away from ordering a coffee. But for some reason, he couldn’t take his eyes off of the man who ordered tea at a coffee shop. Johnny was surprised to find the man wearing a skull mask that concealed his face apart from his eyes. His deep brown eyes scanned the entire shop, eventually landing on Johnny who immediately looked away, feeling a little flustered he was caught staring. The man was given the tea he had ordered and he turned and walked out of the coffee shop. 

Wait..is that his wallet on the ground? 

Johnny stepped out of line and approached the lone, leather wallet that was on the ground. He opened it up to find an ID card and a military ID card both issued to Simon Riley. So that’s his name. In the regular ID, Simon Riley had short, poofy blonde hair, the same deep brown eyes, and light skin. It has to be his, just from the eye color alone. Maybe he could catch him, he couldn’t have gotten far. Ditching the coffee all together, Johnny closed the wallet and sprinted out of the coffee shop, his eyes scanning outside to find the masked man walking down the street. 

“Sir? Sir?!” Johnny called out to the man, hurrying up his pace. 

The masked man turned and faced him, relieved that it was indeed the same man who was in the coffee shop just moments ago. 

“You..” Johnny paused, catching his breath from sprinting, “you dropped your wallet in the shop.” 

The man took the wallet from Johnny, examining it to confirm if it was his or not. 

“Thank you.” The man thanked Johnny and was starting to turn and leave when Johnny remembered the military ID card. 

“Are you in the ‘milatree’?” Johnny asked. 

Simon was amused by Johnny's accent. 

“Yes.” Simon plainly answered. 

“Oh that's nice. My cousin is in the military too. I didn't mean to snoop but I had to check and see if it was ‘our wallet before I chased you down.” Johnny explained himself. 

Simon understood and appreciated Johnny's act of kindness. Most people are turned away by him due to his appearance but this Scottish man was the first to not be. In fact he wanted to have a conversation with him. 

“I appreciate you returning my wallet.” Simon thanked him. 

And from then on it was history. Johnny and Simon kept bumping into each other in town to the point that eventually Johnny asked to hang out with him. Although Simon was reluctant at first, he agreed. From then on, both Johnny and Simon grew close. Real close. Johnny was the first to get feelings and he pushed them away. He didn’t even really have a real reason to have romantic feelings for Simon. He has always had girlfriends. Granted they were never anything serious or lasted long, but for some reason, Simon was special. He has never felt this way about any man or anyone in general. His heart would race every time he would think he saw him, his leg would start bouncing if Simon sat too close to him, he would chew the inside of his cheek if Simon prolonged eye contact for too long, and his palms would get sweaty if Simon brushed his hand on his leg. When they were out with friends, Simon always insisted on sitting next to Johnny. Johnny didn’t understand why he was having these feelings for Simon. He figured this phase would past eventually and maybe just maybe he just had an infatuation for him and looked up to him. It wasn’t until one night when Simon brushed his hand on Johnny, a little too down low, and Simon immediately felt it in his pants. He tried to hide it, but he knew Simon saw it. He had to have. That confirmed it for Simon. He was in love with Simon. He didn’t understand why but he did. He loved Simon. 

And then Simon told Johnny he would have to be deployed again for another mission. 

Present Johnny was glad he did it, but Past Johnny didn’t understand why he did it. Simon invited him over to his place to hang out before Simon would have to leave early in the morning. He had it in his mind to confess to Simon how he felt, in fear he would get killed in combat before he ever got the chance to do so. So he did. He told Simon how he felt. 

“I don’t know why, I feel this way about ‘ou. But I love you, Simon.” 

For a moment, Simon was silent. His deep brown eyes pierced into Johnny’s bright blue ones. It was then that Johnny started to regret what he did. 

You stupid focking idiot. Why would you do that? 

The thoughts stopped when Simon lifted up his mask, just enough for his lips to be out,leaned in and placed a passionate kiss onto Johnny’s lips. Johnny immediately latched back, feeling romance and lust take over immediately but he managed to hold himself together to avoid hurting or making Simon uncomfortable. He didn’t expect that night to go as far as it did, but it very much did to the point were Simon was worried he would get a noise complaint. But it was the best night of their lives. They both thought that. 

“So dis whole fucking time, you were teasin’ meh?” Johnny asked the scruffy blonde man. 

“Maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t.” Simon teased back as Johnny rested his head on Simon’s soft but muscular chest, feeling loved for the first time ever in his life. 

The next day was hard for both of them. They didn’t care that everyone was watching as Johnny gave Simon a ‘Good luck’ peck on the cheek. Even though Simon couldn’t give a peck back due to all of the gear on him, he instead bumped his forehead onto Johnny’s. Simon didn’t care what the rest of the team thought, whether they were supportive or not. Turns out they were supportive, but he wouldn’t stop being relentlessly teased the whole time. The first time Simon came back home from a mission, Johnny had a warm and hearty dinner ready for Simon. Of course, Simon was surprised, but very much appreciated it. And that’s what Johnny did every single time Simon came home from a mission. During the day he would work at his carpentry job that Simon got for him and then come home and make sure the place was tidy and would be ready for Simon to come home. He missed him when he was out on missions, but it only made their relationship stronger. 

And that is exactly what Johnny was doing right at this moment. Simon already warned Johnny ahead of time that he would be flying in really late due to their original flight being canceled. Of course, Johnny insisted and still prepared a meal for him, despite making it hard for him to stay awake. Just as he was drifting off on the couch, the door swung open. 

“Si?” Soap tiredly called to him. 

“I’m ‘ere, Johnny.” Simon responded as he approached the couch. 

Johnny smiled at Simon as he pulled his mask up to his forehead, his handsome face being put on display for Johnny. 

“How was your flight?” Johnny asked as Simon approached him. 

“Bloody fucking lovely.” 

Johnny chuckled at his sarcasm. 

“Take all that gear off, love.” Johnny suggested as he went to grab Simon’s tactical vest. 

“At least take me out to dinner first.” 

Johnny broke out into a chuckle, leaning his head onto Simon’s chest. Simon was significantly taller than Johnny so he was always at perfect eye height at his chest, which is Johnny’s favorite pillow. 

“I promised I did cook some grub.” Johnny said, not moving his head. 

Simon ran his fingers through Johnny’s mohawk. He could tell Johnny missed him a lot. 

“How was your mission?” Johnny asked as Simon led Johnny to the couch. 

Simon laid down on his back and Johnny laid down on his chest, wrapping his arms around him. 

“The worst we had in a long time.” Simon said. 

“I’m ‘orry, Simon.” Johnny apologized. 

“Ain’t your fault, Johnny. I’m just happy to be home.” 

Simon had felt instant relief when he entered their home they both had bought recently. They bought it a couple of months ago and it was perfect for the two of them. When Simon first got with Johnny, he had walls up. While he too had feelings for Johnny, he was afraid of letting him in. He wasn’t afraid to show his face almost right away to Johnny. In fact, remembering that moment always puts a smile on his face. It wasn’t like a ‘grand reveal moment’ he just took it off in front of Johnny one day and Johnny wouldn’t stop staring at him. 

“What? Do I have some shit on my face?” 

“No, not at all. You’re just..” 

Johnny could barely put the words together to describe how he felt. But one things for sure, he had hit the jackpot. 

“Just what?” Simon asked, afraid of what Johnny would say. 

Johnny just approached Simon and smashed his lips onto his. After a moment of lust, Johnny finally managed to find the words to say. 

“You’re just stunning, Simon.” 

Simon chuckled to himself, remembering the moment. 

“What’s so funny, aye?” Johnny asked. 

“Nothing. Just remembering the time you first saw my entire face.” 

Johnny’s face turned pink once Simon said that. 

“I assume for a good reason righ’?” 

“Yes of course.” Simon reassured Johnny. 

Johnny just held Simon tightly, fear of him disappearing. 

“I thought about ‘ou every single day.” Johnny commented. 

“So did I.” 

Johnny smiled to himself, knowing that Simon loves him as much as he loves him. Things were kind of awkward when they first got together only cause neither of them had ever been with a man before and they were still getting to know each other. But now they know for sure that they love each other very much. 

“Dinner is in the fridge.” Johnny softly told Simon. 

“Is it alright if I go get it?” 

“Of course, love.” 

Johnny moved first so Simon could get up. As Simon was in the kitchen, Johnny got into his own thoughts. Everyday he wakes up not believing that this was his life. Some days it feels like a dream. He couldn’t believe he had gotten so lucky. So damn lucky. Johnny was always afraid that his Captain would be at his front door instead of Simon, but he is thankful every single time Simon is the one who shows up. But there’s always that chance that the next mission he goes to could be the last time he sees him. Even though they always spend as much time as they can together before he gets sent off again, Johnny feels as though there’s always that off chance that something could happen to Simon. Anything could happen. Johnny knows that Simon is the one he wants to be with for the rest of his life. He still gets flirted on and hit on by many women and even though it makes his ego bigger, he always turns them down, happy to inform them that he is happily taken. He just wants to actually have physical proof of it. The kind that rests on your finger. 

“Fuck it.” Johnny mumbled to himself. 

Johnny got up from the couch and marched over to Simon. Before Simon could even get a word out, Johnny grabbed him by his vest and pulled him into a kiss. Simon immediately melted into the kiss, his food leaving his mind that very second. One hand went into Johnny’s mohawk and the other on his hip. Both of Johnny’s hands stayed on Simon’s chest as he pulled him even closer, deepening the kiss. Something was growing intensely inside both of them and they both knew it well. Simon was the first to pull away to get some air. 

“Someone missed me.” Simon smirked at Johnny. 

“I can say the same about ‘ou.” 

Simon laughed, giving Johnny a light peck. 

“Let’s get married.” 

Simon’s eyes went wide when Johnny said that. 

“Really? You wanna get married to me?” Simon asked Johnny. 

“Fucking ‘ell, yes I do. There’s always that chance that you may not come back home alive. I want to do everything with ya Simon. I love you.” Johnny poured his heart out to him.

Simon felt his heart racing. He has never had someone pour their heart out to him like that, let alone demand to get married. He never thought his life would end up like this. Never. But he was happy, very happy. 

“Johnny..” Simon started.

Johnny perked up, waiting to hear what Simon had to say. 

“It’s going to be bloody fucking hard deciding whose last name gets changed.” 

Johnny knew that was Simon’s way of saying yes. Johnny hugged Simon tightly, just so damn happy. 

“Quit stabbing me, Johnny.” Simon remarked. 

Johnny’s face turned beet red, forgetting about their ‘predicaments.’ 

“Let’s go take care of that.” Simon seductively said. 

“But Simon, you need to eat.” 

“Eh, I ain’t that hungry.” 

Johnny placed a kiss on Simon’s lips, just high off of his love alone. The food got cold in the microwave, the storm raged outside, the sun was starting to peek through the windows, but neither of them cared. They only cared about each other and that is all that matters to them.  

END

[konigsblog]

Hnnnghrhehk

*grabs you by the shoulders*

g-ghost, soap, Alejandro, and Rudy fivesome with rookie reader-

LET ME GIVE YA THE PROMPT, BESTIE-

okay, so, rookie was deployed with ghost and soap to Los vaqueros, and after they finish the mission, they go back to their safe house, drink, play truth or dare….and find out that rookie is a virgin-

Lemmie slap some kinks here-

size kink

voice kink

Corruption kink (with the virgin rookie)

Praise

(I’m so sorry for being so specific, I just really love your blog and content and this idea has been in my head for awhile)

🍋-

price giving you a lustful look as he called your name out, thinking back to your session; his balls slapping so hard against you and your plump soft tits. he was sending you, soap and ghost out on a mission to meet up with los vaqueros.

on your last night with alejandro and rudy, you all decided to get drunk and play some games, sitting on the floor with two signs, one saying; 'i have' and the other saying 'i haven't'. the game quickly became sexual, talking about sex before johnny spoke up, “alright, never have i ever had sex?” rudy laughed, “soap, i'm sure we've all fucked before.”

your cheeks pink as you were the only one holding up 'i haven't', their eyes widened, looking you up and down as you nervously laughed, breaking the silence. simon smirked, whispering something in johnny's ear, seeing him smirk. “let us be your first, lass.” his scottish accent clear as he breathed against your neck, tearing your shirt and shorts off, leaving you in just your panties. “matching...” alejandro smirked, his hand unclasping your bra.

you laid on top of ghost, the size difference clear, his cock aligned with your ass, thick cock nudging at your hole, stretching you out with his fat dick. you whined as soap pussed the head of his cock against your cunt, already soaking as your walls clenched around him, groaning in pleasure.

rudy leaned down and whispered in your ear, his attractive accent sending a shiver down your spine before he pushed his cock in your mouth, lips wrapped around his fat dick as he slowly dragged his cock up and down your throat. alejandro wrapped your fingers around his own throbbing member, wet with pre-cum as you spat in your hand and pumped him.

ghost twitched in your ass, his large broad figure dwarfing your form, smaller form being stuffed full of four larger and thicker cocks, soaking your pussy and thighs. “such a good girl...” john cooed, his voice a low pitch as his balls slapped hard against your ass, aching as your face became wet with cum and tears, rudy flooding your sore throat with his seed.

“doin' so well, stuffed so fuckin' full.” simon mumbled, his northern accent causing you to clench around him as he growled out in your ear, “so close, fuck, baby.” you climaxed around them, slick coating ghost legs and soap's abdomen, squirting your liquid onto him.

[teddy-bear-baby]

Their Deadly Flower - Two

A/N: Here’s chapter two a few days early because I’m excited about it. Also a big THANK YOU for all the love on chapter one. Enjoy!

Pairings: Ghost X Reader, König X Reader

Warnings: General violence, gun violence, death threats

Chapter One - Chapter Three

     With no time to second guess your decision, you set out to execute your little plan. You continue running full speed at the man, his stance never wavering. When you’re about five feet from him, you turn your body and drop to the ground. Your momentum carries your body in a slide between his legs. You dig your feet and hands into the pavement, knowing full well you’d be paying for that later. You catch a brief glimpse of one other figure behind him, hoping against hope that they’re friendly, you continue with your motions. As you come to a halt behind the man you jump into a crouched position, grabbing hold of the secondary pistol strapped to his thigh. With ease, you yank it from its holster. Wasting no time, you stand at full height and instinctively flick the safety off. “Two, maybe three, en route.” You lean from behind him, aiming for the corner you had come from. Using him as a human shield wasn’t ideal but he was covered head to toe in tactical gear and you were wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt.

     His voice is like music to your ears. “Copy that, Iris.” His gun is raised without another word, your call sign echoes in your ears. You’d all but forgotten it over the past two years. A fluttering feeling settles in the pit of your stomach, something deep within you calling out to him. You think perhaps he feels it too as his head turns ever so slightly, glancing back at you only for a brief moment. You want to reach out, to touch him and you aren’t sure why. The footsteps of your pursuers grow closer, effectively keeping you from thinking about it any further. 

     Three men sprint around the corner and immediately startle at the sight of your large companion. Their moment of hesitation gives you and the hulking man next to you the upper hand. The fear that flashes through their eyes sparks an animalistic feeling in the back of your neck. As they come out of their frightened trances they fumble with the weapons they hold. Not giving them a chance to fight back, you open fire on the three of them. You don’t know who they are and assume from the sound of his gun going off, he doesn’t either. They fall to the ground, in a pool of their own blood, unmoving.

     “Iris?” The man behind you speaks, his thick Scottish accent letting you know exactly who it is. You lower the pistol to your side, turn the safety back on and spin on your heels. Soap stands there, a smile as wide as the Grand Canyon gracing his lip. Curiosity, and elation flash in his eyes. You dash to him crushing him in a bear hug that he returns with no hesitation. “I… we all thought you were dead. When? How did you get here?” He shakes his head as he pulls back, holding your shoulders, and starts to examine your face. “They wouldn’t even tell us if they found your body.” His eyes dart around your body as if trying to solidify your existence in his mind.

     An airy laugh leaves your mouth. “Of course, they wouldn’t tell you.” It’s shocking how easily Laswell could keep something like that from them for so long. The pain they must have felt saddens you. You search his eyes for a moment trying to determine what he was thinking. You shift through the happiness that lies within them finding traces of anger and sadness. You pull his hand from your shoulders and turn to face the man you had used as a meat shield moments ago. “It would have distracted you from the main mission.” You sigh as you look between the two familiar men wondering if they actually thought you were dead. Soaps eyes Inspect the ground in deep thought. As you turn to Ghost you just barely catch him turning his face away. He holds an air of confidence and calm that you could never break through. 

      You jump slightly as Soaps radio crackles to life. “All clear boys, intel secured. Move out.” Price’s voice echoes through the narrow passage that the three of you stand in. Soap speaks back into it. "Copy that, Captain." He glances back up at you before speaking again. "An extra package has been picked up, be prepared." The radio crackles again, this time Gaz's slightly agitated voice comes through. "Now's no time for surprises, Soap." You laugh under your breath knowing Gaz would wholeheartedly believe that Johnny was playing with them. He was never one to let serious situations take away his fun.

         The walk back to the checkpoint was fairly short and full of chatter between you and Johnny. Talk of the time that had passed and how you'd been. His three near-death experiences. The whole way you waited for the big brooding man on your left to say something, but he never did. 

     The three of you reached the Humvee, the checkpoint, before the others. You sat in the back of the Humvee with Soap while Ghost watched you both from the outside, leaning on the doorframe, his large body taking up the whole opening. You wonder for a moment if he’ll join in the conversation, though you doubt it. Your eyes linger on him as the setting sun makes the white skull of his mask glow with a golden hue. His eyes glimmer in the light as he surveys the area. The need to touch him creeps back into you as you stare relentlessly. His head gives a small nod as he turns back to the two of you. “Here they come.” The muscles in his arms tense and ripple as he pushes himself off of the car. Your heart skips as you tear your eyes away, mentally scolding yourself for the feeling that ignites in your chest.

     Soap exits the vehicle, taking Ghost’s previous position in front of the door. Price’s voice cuts through the tension that settled in your chest while you were waiting. “Everyone make it back in one piece?” His voice doesn’t sound as though it was an actual concern he had, the confidence he had in the other men was evident. You watch through the window as they nod in the affirmative, knowing that they couldn’t see you through the pitch-black tint on them. “Alright then, let’s head out.” Price makes a motion for Soap to re-enter the Humvee. A confused look spreads over Price’s face as Soap makes no move to re-enter. Gaz takes a step forward with an all too familiar woman standing next to him. The cuffs on her wrist do nothing to settle the anxiety that fills you. 

     Ghost shifts from one leg to the other before speaking. “I’m fairly certain we found the catalyst that brought them here in such large numbers.” He nods at Johnny, silently telling him to move so that you can exit. As he steps to the side, you slowly step out, watching as Gaz and Price stare in absolute awe at your presence. Alice’s eyes fill with rage as you make eye contact with her.

     A smile tugs at your lips. “Surprise.” The thought of her assuming you had been caught amuses you more than it should. Her men were sloppy, and slow. The image of them fumbling with their guns flashes behind your eye, forcing you to stifle a laugh.

     Confusion and frustration reflect in Price’s eyes. “Now wait a damn minute,” Price’s eyes survey you just as Soap’s had an hour ago. He looks to Soap, then you, over to Ghost, and finally back at you. You can see it on his face as he mulls over the situation for a moment. Without another word, he makes his way over and wraps you in a hug. “Welcome back Iris. Don’t you ever disappear on us again.” His face is steady but his voice gives way to his emotions. A mix of happiness and sorrow lace his words.

    Making eye contact with him, you smile gently, a bit sad at the pain you had caused. “Understood.” Your hand comes up to solute as you accept the orders given to you. Your heart flutters at the way he accepted you back with open arms. 

     “Seriously,” Gaz’s voice comes from behind Price’s shoulder. “If you ever even think about going dark again, I will personally hunt you down and drag your ass back.” The smile he holds on his lips is evident in just the sound of his voice. “You can kick and scream all you want. Hell, I don’t care if you shoot me.” 

     You side-step Price to get a better view of Gaz and the woman standing behind him. “Oh yeah?” Your voice is lilted with amusement, mischief shining in your eyes. “You and what army?” A smirk graces your lips as you watch his shoulder shake with a silent chuckle. The arm not holding Alice’s binds gestures to the three men standing around you. “What?” You glance around you making eye contact with each of them. “These big softies?” You snort to yourself as Gaz rolls his eyes, a smile still plastered on his face. 

    A huff from beside him pulls you from what should have been an endearing moment between old friends. You peer at the woman that had tried to play you. Her eyes clash with yours as she speaks. “I should have killed you when I had the chance. I should’ve bled you dry months ago.” She sneers, gritting her teeth. Your face goes blank as her words sink in. Your mouth is set in a straight line, eyes boring into hers as she continues. “I had so many chances to gut you like a fucking fish. So many chances I didn’t take.” Her angry ramblings grow louder, more hysterical. “Two years, two long and miserable years I spent befriending you, holding you close to me. Two fucking years I wasted talking to a brick wall.” Angry tears roll down her cheeks. You had to admit it was entertaining and perhaps a bit contagious, the way she started losing herself.

     The shrink that had been assigned to you a long time ago had tried to teach you to control and suppress your anger. It worked, but not in the way they had intended. Now instead of having outbursts of anger, you’d learned to channel it and keep it quieter. You’d learned to use it to kill. Images of her lifeless body flash through your head. A knife in your right hand just next to her head, the other covering her mouth preventing her from calling out for help. Lowering your eyes you watch as thick blood trickles from a deep cut just below her jaw. The viscous red liquid is still warm as it spills on the floor below and mats into her all-too-perfect platinum hair. Her eyes begin rolling back in their sockets as you finally let go of her. She drops to the floor, her head bouncing off the dirt with a satisfying thud.

     Your eyes readjust as the vision clears, you find yourself now standing just in front of her. She seethes quietly up at you, your face still steely and stoic. The lack of emotion seems to get to her more than anything. You smirk inwardly to yourself, keeping your facial expression plain, unbothered. “You could’ve tried, I suppose.” With a half-shrug, you turn and climb back into the Humvee. The feeling of her betrayal hits with full force but you keep yourself together, lips kept in a flat line, your eyes go dead as they had many times before. You were a soldier, after all, emotions would only cause problems where there shouldn’t be. You force down the anger and allow your mind to black out the feelings threatening to burst from you. Not wanting to sour the moment between you and your companions, you keep your thoughts on the continued security of the package your team had picked up.

     The drive was long and boring. No one speaking, not wanting to spill any sensitive information with the enemy sitting in the back with you. There wasn't enough room in the seats for everyone as they had only planned to return with one extra body. Soap had insisted you take the last seat, a small space between Ghost’s hulking form and the window of the Humvee. You tried to argue but quickly lost as Ghost reached out and pulled you into the seat. He grumbled something about us being quiet, his eyes shined with irritation as they pierced your soul. 

     You scrunch your nose up at the side of his head. What was his problem? He’d been acting weird since you found each other. Shouldn’t he be happy to see you? Not that he’d ever let you know even if he was. He’d never been open to feelings but you thought you two had an ok relationship before. You’re unsure of why it bothered you so much. He was your lieutenant, he didn’t have to like you, he just had to lead you. You catch something moving through his features as you continue to stare at the side of his head. His eyes seem to vibrate back and forth while shallow lines form at the edge of his eyes. As quick as it came, it went. All traces of emotions were gone, replaced once more with those stoic, empty eyes you’d grown so familiar with. But what was it that had taken him over for just a split second? 

     With no way of answering your own silent question, your eyes returned to Soap a moment later, a ‘what the fuck’ look on your face. He shrugs before lowering himself to sit on the floor in front of you, seemingly unbothered by Ghost’s moment of agitation.

     About an hour into the drive, Soap had laid his head on your knee, complaining momentarily of the bleakness. It was unusual for Soap to be so quiet, no jokes or witty banter falling from his lips. The whole team had changed so much since you last saw them. What had happened in the last two years to make them all act so robotic? So…dead. The way their bodies shifted with the wobbling of the car, the eerie way they all just stared straight ahead. The sight was unnerving to put it lightly. What had happened to your men? Where was the lively team you’d left behind?

     The ride went smoothly despite the woman trying once or twice to escape her bindings. She had been intent on clawing your eyes out as she lunged forward in your direction. Soap manhandled her back into her seat across from him on the floor. Ghost’s arm shot out forcing you as far behind him as he could, an air of protectiveness exuding from him nearly suffocating you. You could have sworn you’d heard a low growl escape him, but in the heat of the moment, you couldn’t be sure. Something deep within your gut twisted at the sight of him being so protective over you. Even now, over an hour later and almost one hundred miles closer to your destination, he was still on the edge of the seat with you safely tucked behind him. It felt nice, right almost, to be so close to him, touching each other. It would have felt intimate if it weren’t for the situation that caused it. Maybe this was his way of saying, without words, that you did in fact matter to him as much as you do to the others.

     You didn’t get a chance to enjoy that thought, however, as you pulled into the compound. All too quickly, everyone had piled out of the Humvee. Price and Gaz lead Alice away, and Ghost had already disappeared to who-knows-where. That left you and Soap standing there, both of you staring at each other. “What now?” 

     Johnny cocks his head to the side, thinking for a moment. “Well, we should probably get you to Laswell. I’m sure she’ll be happy to know you’re alive.” He shrugs as he begins leading you to her office. 

     The thought of none of them knowing that she had a hand in your disappearance picks at the back of your brain. You want to say something, to stop and tell him everything that happened. The less rational part of your brain speaks up. ‘Everyone should be there, to hear what she did. Let them all know that she caused their pain for the last two years.’ Your eyes flicker around you. Watching as new recruits give you odd glances and questioning looks. You pass some people you recognize from when you were last here, their jaws going slack at the site of you. “Hey Johnny?” You slow your steps as you turn your attention back to him as he turns his head to look at you. “Shouldn’t we at least wait for Price? I mean, I suppose we don’t have to. I don't know.” A large black blur catches your attention from the corner of your eye. As you look over Soap’s shoulder, Ghost’s form comes completely into view.

     Ghost strides up next to Soap. “No need.” He turns back the way he came with a simple ‘follow me’ motion. “Price and Gaz are already there. They sent me to look for you two.” His voice is monotone and distant. There goes your hope of surprising Laswell. He speaks once more as if reading your thoughts. “I’m sure they haven’t told her yet.” You notice now that in the ten minutes he’d been gone, he’d already changed out of his full tactical uniform and into a lighter outfit. He now wore a black hoodie, denim jeans and had swapped his usual mask out for a skull print balaclava. He still has a few small weapons strapped to him, which isn’t surprising. Something about how casual he looked sparks that same feeling in you, the want to be close to him, to touch him. 

     Sighing you pull your eyes away from Ghost’s back as you all stop in front of Laswell’s office. The closed door taunts you just as much as the thoughts of wanting to touch Ghost had. You listen for a moment, hearing Price and Laswell conversing about Alice on the other side of the door. You can feel it as your face becomes blank once again. You don’t want to blow up at Laswell, you used to enjoy her company quite a bit. She had pushed you to this point though, this anger that bubbled up inside you felt un-constituted in a way. Did you really have a reason to be this upset with her? She was just trying to protect you, right? She was trying to protect all of you and keep the situation from going sideways more than it already had. Even so, she made you leave your family and then didn’t even tell them you were alive. Now, feeling justified in at least a bit of your anger, you nod to let the two men standing with you know that you're ready to see her.

[the-voice-of-silent]

𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒔/𝒐 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒅𝒂𝒚 / 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏

Pairing: ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀs ᴏғ 141 + ᴀʟᴇᴊᴀɴᴅʀᴏ + ᴋᴏ̈ɴɪɢ

Warning: ᴘᴜʀᴇ ғʟᴜғғ , ᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛɪɴɢ , ᴘᴀɴɪᴄ ᴀᴛᴛᴀᴄᴋs , ᴀɴɢsᴛ , ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴏғ ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋ <3

Simon "ghost" riley

- we all know that he isn't a man of words he is much more a man of action

- instead telling you how much he loves you he would quietly do things that makes you so much happy

- after one day Simon knew that you had a very hard time that day and felt so low

- so he planned to go out and get you a box of you favourite chocolate and would just replace them on the table with a note

- there was a note on it that said "everyone can have a though night, what's important is that Im always there for you"

- that was enough to make you scream and Simon would panic thinking something bad happened to you while he rushes to you

- you would just run to his arms excited and hug him tight and thank him for the chocolate and the letter "I always love you my big boy" he says while cupping his face

- this man is a touch starved man and almsot lost the control but he would just gently stroke your back and control himself "of course" he says with such a gentle voice then he would place a quick peck on your forehead

- and then you snuggle onto him while he rub his back you guys watch movies and fall asleep on his arms

Johnny "Soap" mactavish

- he would immediately notice that you were so down and being a bit moody

- but he was a understanding man so he would sit next to you "babe what's up" he says with his thick Scottish accent

- you would just cry quietly without saying anything and put your head on his shoulder

- it would break his heart seeing you like that, so broken so he had an idea

- "now come on babe how about you get up so I can make ya a pasta aye?" He says as he stands up looking down at you

- his words made you smile and wipe your tears away "okay let's do that" he smiles and grab you hand and get you guys in the kitchen

- let's just say the recipe did not go well at all but you didn't care you were happy with him laughing at him and throw meat balls at him and he would just throw parmesan at you and would laugh at you

- after the mess you guys cleaned up and just ordered a pizza while playing cards and every time he would cheat just he can see you frustrated

- he would laugh at your cute face pinch your cheek and you guys continued eating pizza, thanks to him your day got way better after feeling a lot down

Alejandro Vargas

- your day goes so wrong cause your boss was really upset at you even though you really tried your best

- after work you would call your boyfriend and explain everything that happened and he patiently listen to you

- he would comfort you about it and after going home your eyes widened at the roses and candles on the floor that it lead to the bathroom

- "welcome home mi amor I've been waiting for you"

- you give him a kiss and he would carry you to the bath that was full of roses and candles he gently put you on tub then he sit behind you and start placing kisses on your shoulder

- he would gently whisper through your hair he loved the smell of it and it gave him so much peace "don't you worry about anything now I'm going to take care of you mi amor"

(After that he also calls your boss needing and explanation for yelling at you making them answer in fear LOL)

John price

- You guys dated for a while now so of course he knows so much about his partner and he knows that you sometimes panic through even little things

- after a 2 months he finally came home to you and surely you were happy to see your man again but sadly your job audition didn't go well as you planned

- it made your body all shaky and you could feel your heart getting out of your body anytime and you started to gasp

- luckily he would rush away to you grab your shoulders and make you look at him "love love look at me" he says with such a calmness in his voice he knew that it make you feel so much better

- "take breath with me inhale exhale" he would say so you can do the same breathing style with him "that's it love" he smile kindly at him and give you a hug and pat your back "I will help you with it"

- he is a soldier not only that also a captain who always needs to stay calm in every situation that happens so he can think of solving the problem

- And a good partner he is he also teaches you how to deal with your panic attacks and how to stay calm during it like he would say they will fade away immediately and how much a strong person you are

- But you just couldn't thank him enough for that but your existence in his life is all that it matters to him

Kyle "Gaz" garrick

- He didn't mention that but he got your calender of your red day cause he thought that you would find it weird

- but he would have it just to make you feel better in your red days when you are feeling so down and the pain all over your body causes you to do not let do the tiniest things at all

- he would feel really bad for how much pain you have in those days and he also does not want to bother you so he would just get your favourite snacks and literally anything that you carve for and help with your undone works

- he also when you want to sleep he sneak behind you hold you gently against him and massage the sore parts of your body and his massages my lord you always swear that you always see heaven when he massage you

- and even though he is still a soldier and sadly sometimes he has to leave you like this for mission he would call his friends to be careful with you and if anything that happened you can say that to them

- "Hey sweetie what are you doing?-" He would saw you doing your laundry and he would run to you and grab your clothes "no no y/n I will do these myself" "but babe you are so tired-" he would hush you and stroke your hair "you are even mire tired than me I can handle that"

- he kisses your cheek and you would do the same thing and say how much you love him and he would chuckle softly at you

- "I love you too sweetheart" he says with his thick British accent and leaves you alone so you can rest while he does the little works

König

- König knows that you are a future planner for your life and he is really proud of you being like that

- but it makes him so sad seeing you see the negative sides of the future and just worry about things that almost never going to happen

- he understands the pain that you have cause of having social anxiety and somewhat know what to do to make you feel better

- one day you just didn't had any motivation for doing any work but it was fine for having a break for a day

- and your loving boyfriend was back from work like a day ago and he would just see you with huge bags under your eyes not only that but see your pretty eyes all red while you sit on his lap

- he cups your face "Maus i understand the amount of stress of you have I just think it's better if you take a break from your work"

- you hug him tight and he do it aswell you murmur "I just want some cuddles" he plays with your soft hair "as you wish mein engel"

- he knew that you needed some quiet time before speak about your problems with him

- "könig I really thought about it I'm just really trying my best with my future and I just think I need a break from it" while saying those words you start to tear up making man's heart turn into tiny pieces

- "maus I know" he says still cupping your face and whipping your tears away with his thick thumb "du bist die beste und ich bin stolz auf dich"

- his words made your heart very warm and you just smile at him "you really think so?" He nods at you "you are mein angel and I'm not gonna let a shitty work mess you up"

- After comforting you would just fall asleep while sitting on him lap cause of his soft voice and könig notice you fell asleep so he places you to your shared bed and then fall asleep with you in his arms

[cherryatombomb]

The Haunting of the Miller House

John "Soap" MacTavish x Simon "Ghost" Riley

a/n: for now, this is a oneshot, but could turn into a series depending on reception! this is a buzzfeed unsolved au, where soap is a paranormal investigator, and ghost is his demon companion. he's unaware he's a demon, of course! no warnings apply, besides a few minor descriptions of violence that comes with hauntings. read on ao3 !!

The video starts. Two men stand aside one another; one is shorter, though in reality stands at around 6”0. He has a mohawk and is dressed in relatively light clothes – a flannel shirt over a white, plain tee, and faded blue jeans. He’s wearing trainers and excitedly smiles at the camera. His companion stands impossibly tall, at 6”5, and is wearing a darker outfit then his friend. A beanie covers his head, black and plain, and the lower half of his face is covered by a plain black facemask. Despite it being late at night, he’s wearing sunglasses. A black hoodie with skeletal ribs around the right area on his stomach, black jeans, and combat boots finish his outfit off. In every way, he looks like his partner’s opposite.

“The Miller household was once a lovely house in a nice suburban area, bought by a young, budding couple, excited to start their new life together,” The smaller one begins to speak, his voice dramatic, clearly getting into telling a story. His accent is Scottish, though it isn’t too thick, at this moment. “As soon as they moved in, however, things began to seem out of place. A bump in the night, lights switching on and off, or a TV being on when they had definitely turned it off. Things came to a head, however, when they claimed to see a figure in the night-”

A scoff escapes the taller man. The smaller man shakes his head in amusement and continues.

“-One that continued to haunt them. Scratches, bruises, furniture being pushed around, and perhaps one of my favourite pieces of evidence to date.” A picture shows on the screen of a dark room. Outside the window appears to be a figure, peering at the window, though it's only the outline – there are no discernible features.

“Photoshop,” The tall man muses.

The Scotsman rolls his eyes, though his smile betrays his affection. “I’m John MacTavish – though you can call me Soap, and this is my ‘partner’,” Soap nudges his partner’s side, giving him an expectant look. The man in question blinks slowly at him before he seems to register what’s going on.

He huffs.

“I’m Simon Riley. Ghost.”

“A man of many words, aye?” A snicker escapes John, and it’s difficult to see Simon’s reaction – though his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners.

“Either way, I’m a wholehearted believer in ghosts. My partner is a skeptic. In this series, I tour some of my favourite haunted locations, whilst also trying to prove to him that ghosts are real!” Soap’s hands clasp together excitedly, and as an intro begins to play, the ironically named Ghost mumbles a few things about ‘photoshop’ and ‘hallucinations.

The intro gives some music, and some more information about the house, as it plays some shots of the house in the background. It looks like a generic house on the outside, though its inside clearly reflects its abandoned state – classic interior, fitting of the past. The Miller House is a hot spot for paranormal activity, apparently, thousands of believers from all over the world come to visit and come away firmly in belief of the paranormal.

The intro finishes with a flash of the title, before returning to the two partners. They stand inside the house, now – Ghost is forced to crouch to get through a doorway without hitting his head.

“This is the living room. Where the TVs used to turn on without anybody being there – the lights often switched off and on in this room, too,” Soap explains, looking around the room with trepidation in his features.

“Maybe the ghosts just wanted to watch TV. Did they think about that?” Ghost questions, his voice amused, even when his face betrays nothing but seriousness.

“Well, when paranormal activity occurs, there tend to be problems with electricity, so it might be that-”

“They definitely want to watch TV. All ghosts are from the medieval period, right? I’d want to watch TV without it killing me. Maybe the Simpsons. Maybe just the news.”

Soap does his best to seem annoyed with his words, his arms folding across his chest, but an amused laugh escapes him, nonetheless. It seems to put him at ease, more relaxed in the dark house, now. “It’s a nice living room,” He finally relents, grinning.

“Better than ours,”

“Our living room is lovely!”

“Remember the wine-”

Ghost is cut off by a glare from Soap. The look lingers, before the shot changes once more.

Now, they stand in front of the stairs, looking up at them. There are a few pieces of leftover decorations along the wall by the stairs, just a few paintings, but it’s nothing that daunting. It’s dark upstairs, and both men have different expressions on their features.

Ghost looks nonplussed. Even behind the mask, everything about his stance reads casual and calm. Soap, on the other hand, is staring upstairs like it might kill him, immediately.

“Maybe we could… put some lights on, eh?”

“No. Gotta prepare you for your solo run, MacTavish,” A hand is placed on his shoulder, and it’s difficult to see behind the mask, but Ghost is grinning at him. Soap huffs right back in response, before gesturing to the stares, “Ladies first!”

A chuckle escapes the man in hand, but he allows the other to hide behind him as he walks upstairs. When he reaches the top, followed by Soap, his eyes flit around the long hallway, before focusing on a single spot. His eyes narrow momentarily, catching even his companion’s attention.

“See somethin’?” More of Soap’s accent slips out when he’s nervous, apparently, anxiety intensifying thanks to the skeptic's sudden focus.

There’s a momentary silence as he simply continues glaring. The camera zooms in to where he appears to be looking, and there seems to be nothing but empty space.

“Nice painting,” that silence is suddenly broken, and the camera pulls back in time to see Soap’s eyes widen, then let out a laugh.

“Ye right scunner!” Soap exclaims between laughter, nudging his side in what seems to be a chide for scaring him. Once more, his accent thickens with his emotions – now with righteous indignation at being frightened by his partner. A knowing look in his eyes betrays that this isn’t the first time.

“English, MacTavish,”

“Och, fuck you,” Despite the seeming irritation in his words, he’s grinning fondly. The duo walks to the end of the hallway and step into a nearby room. It’s the bedroom, clearly.

“This is where Elizabeth Miller and Daniel Miller were sleeping peacefully one night before a loud crash woke them up,” Soap begins to explain, and he looks enthusiastic about this explanation. He looks around the room, gesturing wildly as he speaks.

This time, Ghost does not interrupt him. Instead, he watches, fondly.

“Both got up to inspect the crash, together, knowing that they’ve had a few incidents with the paranormal before, when Elizabeth sees a figure in the corner. Before she can warn her partner, the figure rushes forwards and sends her flying across the room. Daniel is sent the same way. They both rush out of the house, different items being flung at them – plates, glasses, even a book – before they make it out.”

“I’d love to fight a ghost, one day,” Simon interjects, seeming unable to resist.

Seeming typical of the two, John just stares at him for a moment, before forging on.

“They go to hospital, get treated for their injuries – some scratches, like deep claws, and Elizabeth broke a rib. Daniel made it away with only a sprained wrist and scratches. This room is considered the most haunted place in the house – different paranormal investigators have come here, and have claimed to hear voices, whispers, or the sensation of being touched.” His explanation finished, Soap looks around the room, as if expecting someone to jump out at them at any time.

“If any demons would like to… steal my heart, they’re more than welcome to,” Simon begins, walking around the room like he owns the place, “Hell, whilst you’re at it, why not steal Johnny’s heart? Just take it out. Maybe throw us across the room. Let’s fight. I can fight.”

“Don’t drag me into your shit, eejit!” Soap complains at him, backing away as if to form a physical barrier between them. “I like my heart where it is?”

“You’re no fun,” Simon sighs softly, as if truly forlorn, but his shoulders shake with quiet laughter.

Once more, the scene shifts, back to both being outside. Simon is wearing a helmet with a camera on it, able to catch his face without having to use his hands. There are walkie-talkies in both of their hands.

“Welcome to my least favourite part of the investigation – the solo investigation! This time, both me and Simon will work through every room in the house, trying to reach out to whatever ghosts – or demons! - inhabit the house, separately,”

“I look ridiculous,”

“You look… handsome?”

Ghost glares at Soap. The latter grins unrepentantly, before shooing him inside.

Once more, the camera shifts – this time, it’s a close-up of Ghost’s face as he walks through the house. It’s dark, and his eyes can be seen drifting around the room, looking the epitome of calm and relaxed, despite being in a supposed haunted hotspot. The video shifts between different clips of him taunting his namesake:

“Reckon I could take a ghost in a fight,”

“You want to scratch me up? Come on, then. Wait, that sounds…”

“What did the ghost say when it crashed the Halloween party? I’m here for the boos,”

At the last pun, the camera snaps back outside, to where Soap is sitting comfortably in his seat. “I bet he’s telling shitty jokes, the asshole,” fondness drips from his tone, “getting them all riled up for me, I’m tellin’ you! Next time, I’m goin’ in first. Then we’ll see who gets freaked out,”

The camera snaps back, just in time to see Ghost hit his head against the door he’s trying to walk through. He glares at the camera as if trying to inform every viewer not to say anything about it, before making his way upstairs.

His journey skips to the bedroom, once more, uneventful. The room is dark as he steps inside, and this time, he remembers to duck down to avoid hitting his head.

“This is where that picture Johnny likes was taken,” he muses, looking over at the window. Closer, he wanders, then uses his fingers to make the ‘I’m watching you’ sign as if there’s something he can see out the window. “Any demons want to use me as a vessel?” He asks, turning and lazily spinning around in the room as if to try and tempt them. There's amusement in his tone, lazy confidence, like he knows there’s nothing here, or, if there is, that it would never dare to touch him.

“Time’s up, Ghost,” Johnny calls through his walkie-talkie.

“See you next time, demons. Give Johnny a fright for me. He hates hearing footsteps in other rooms. Nothing more, though. Don’t want to give him a heart attack,” he muses, beginning the trek downstairs. There’s a tapping sound on the wall as he walks past, a tap, pause, then another tap. He walks on like he doesn’t notice a thing.

There’s a change in perspective as Ghost steps outside, so both are in view. Rather dramatically, Ghost staggers out of the house, staring at his partner with wide eyes.

“What?” Immediately, Soap is moving closer, concerned.

“They spoke to me,”

“What?” Soap looks frantic, terrified, and intrigued, all in one.

“I can hardly boo-lieve it,”

A groan escapes John. He gives Ghost a look like he killed his cat.

Ghost just looks proud of himself.

There’s a pregnant pause, before the camera switches, and Soap is the one in the house. His shoulders are drawn, tense, walking around the house. “C’mon, ghosts. Give me something. Wanna… tug on my shirt? I’ve got some nice arms; you want to touch them?” As his arms lift, showing off his biceps, footsteps ring out from upstairs.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Somehow, even in the night vision of the camera, it’s clear all the colour has left his face.

“That’s fine. Yeah, everything’s fine. Better than fine,” He continues his walk through the downstairs rooms, now in the living room, “I can walk around, too. See? Hear my feet?” His feet thud loudly against the floor.

There seems to be no response.

“Yeah! That’s what I fuckin’ thought! Ye bawbags, nothin’ but cowards!”

Perspective shifts and they’re outside for a moment. Ghost is standing with a walkie-talkie in his hands, seemingly mid-conversation with someone behind the camera, before indecipherable Scottish yelling is heard from the building. He seems to be taunting the ghosts.

“He’s yelling at them already? Thought he’d last longer,” Simon deadpans, staring at the camera for a few moments longer. It falls silent, apart from the sounds of John’s panicked yelling.

His eyes crinkle at the corners, indicating a smile, just as the perspective shifts back to Soap.

The man has made his way upstairs and is staring into the open bedroom door with fear in his eyes, but also some feral anger. That’s how he copes, it seems.

“This where you were stompin’ ‘round earlier? C’mon out!” He steps inside, looking around the room manically. “Show yourself! You wanna fight? I can fight! I can handle some scratches!”

Various threats of different levels are sent into the still room, yet this time, there’s no response, no footsteps.

Relief floods onto his face as the walkie-talkie crackles to life, and Ghost’s voice speaks up, “Your five minutes are up, now,”

“Coming!” Soap calls, and he rushes downstairs.

Three taps echo out from the bedroom just as he reaches the front door, and he’s rapidly closing it behind him to avoid dealing with that.

Once more, the camera shifts so they can get a proper view of the duo. Ghost walks over to help Soap out of his gear. “See many ghosts, MacTavish?”

“So many.” He grumbles.

Ghost snickers.

Once more, there’s a shift. John is now out of his gear, and Simon is standing with him, looking at the camera together.

“I think it’s fair to say it’s difficult to know what’s wrong with the Miller house,”

“Nothing. Bit old fashioned, though,” Simon hums.

“It’s spooky!” John insists.

Ghost chuckles.

“Well, whatever we believe, skeptic or not, there’s definitely a strange story that comes with the house,” Soap amends, shaking his head in fond amusement. “And I don’t think we found enough proof to swing it either way. So, for now, whether or not the Miller House is haunted remains… unsolved.”

Outro music begins to play, faint, at first, and it’s quiet enough to hear Ghost question ‘Is that a thing, now?’.

The video ends.