#john mactavish x y/n

[daisies-daydreams]

Rugire (Werewolf!Soap MacTavish x F!Reader)

Header Source: Pexels

Pairing: Werewolf!Soap x F!Reader Category: Smut (18+) Warnings: Heat Cycles/Rut, Implications of Pheromones, Human Genitalia (Soap/Reader), Breeding Kink (like HEAVY breeding kink), Mating Press, Doggy Style, Full Nelson, Unprotected P in V Sex (you know the drill), Creampies, Monster-Fucking, Swearing Word Count: 1k+

Summary: Your hot werewolf boyfriend creampies you. That's the "plot".

A/N: Written for the Spooky Month poll I did! (The reader already knows that Johnny is a werewolf before the story). I’m sorry if it’s shit. :P

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

"Are you going to shift soon?" you asked. Your boyfriend, Johnny, frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. The two of you were sitting outside at the firepit, the sun just dipping past the horizon. You sat snugly in his lap, arms hooked around his thick neck. He tilted his head side to side.

"Kind of," Johnny sighed. His sapphire eyes stared into the flickering flames from the pit as he rubbed your side. "It's more...intense than my usual shifting," he said as his face flushed.

"How intense?" you asked as you snuggled against his chest. You listened to his heartrate quicken as you brushed your cheek against his pecs. He swallowed.

"Well, you see...I just want to-" he paused, his face a deep shade of cherry red.

"Fuck someone's brains out?" you piqued. Johnny's eyes widened as he laughed nervously.

"Er, well...yeah," he grunted. Your lover blinked as you adjusted yourself on his lap, your crotch just barely brushing over his. You smiled as you smoothed your hands over his shoulders.

"It'll be okay, Johnny. I'll help you," you whispered in a low, husky whisper as you ground your hips forward. Johnny narrowed his eyes as he grabbed your waist.

"Careful, bonnie," he husked with a wry grin, his thumbs brushing over your hips. You bit your lip before pecking his cheek.

"When will it happen?" you asked before kissing at the corner of his jaw. His breath hitched as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Tomorrow night," he whispered. You nodded before gently kissing his pink lips, letting your touch linger before you pulled back.

"I look forward to it," you grinned cheekily.

---

You slowly stepped inside your bedroom, the lights turned down low as your lover heaved within a large, padded down nest of blankets. You swallowed thickly as you moved closer, your hands fiddling with the bottom of your thin lingerie as you watched him rut into your pillow. 

“Oh, mo chridhe,” Johnny whined as he shoved his face into the mattress, his sharp hips desperately grinding against the pillow as a sheen of sweat coated his flush skin. You sucked in a sharp breath when you saw the rippling muscles of his back and thighs, his now massive body covered in a thick coat of hair. You gasped when he snapped his head towards you. 

His dark pupils overshadowed the bright, sparkling baby blues of his eyes. He flashed his large canines as he swiped his tongue across his upper lip.

"Bonnie," your love grunted as he continued to hump against the soft pillow, his face mixed with ecstasy and pain.

“Johnny,” you whispered as you came closer. You squeaked when your love whipped his head over, only to rub his cheek against your hand.

"(Y/N), please...I need to feel you," his breathing stuttered as his cock swelled between his legs. "Please," he gasped. A searing wave of arousal swept through your body as you shivered. You placed your hand on his arm, his muscles twitching beneath your touch before you climbed next to him.

"I'm here, Johnny," you murmured softly. The whole room spun as your back was suddenly flush to the nest of blankets. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you watched his eyes glow with a hint of silver. Your eyes bulged when you saw his massive, flushed member throb above your barely covered, slick pussy. You shivered as he brushed the tips of his sharpened claws over the crotch of your midnight black lingerie.

“Tryin’ so hard to hold back…but I just can’t stop thinkin’ about fillin’ you up...over and over,” Johnny groaned as he suddenly ripped the crotch of your lingerie in one swift motion. You mewled as the cool air kissed over your wet lower lips, your walls pulsing around nothing.

“Need you, Johnny,” you whined as you rolled your hips forward. Johnny panted as he spread your legs apart, a deep, low growl ripping from his throat as he gazed at your slick slit. You gasped as he threw your legs over his broad shoulders, a hungry twinkle in his eye.

"Been waitin' to do this for so long," he breathed before shoving his face into your dripping cunt. You threw your head back as he lapped along your juicy slit with his wet, long tongue.

“Ah!” you keened as you gripped the sheets, your body becoming overwhelmingly hot with each stroke of his slick muscle. Johnny purred as he dragged his tongue up and down, the tip of his tongue swirling over your tight little hole.

You squealed as he suddenly shoved his long, thick tongue deep inside your walls. His nostrils flared as he puckered his lips over your pussy and eagerly thrusted into your soft canal.

"R-Right there," you breathed as your walls fluttered around his tongue. The feeling of his claws raking across your thighs made you whine and arch your back. 

“J-Johnny, fuck,” you panted as he devoured you. His canines glistened in the dim lighting of your room as he curled his tongue up and put pressure on your g-spot. Your vision grew blurry as you cried out with pleasure. A sweet yet musky smell suddenly flooded your nostrils, making your legs shake intensely. “Baby,” you sobbed as you ground your hips against his face. Johnny snarled before he puckered his lips again and made a loud slurping sound. Your eyes rolled back as a flash of white blinded your vision. Your orgasm tumbled through you like a tidal wave, your body and mind trembling with pure ecstasy. Johnny pulled off of your slick cunt with a “pop” before he snatched the back of your calves. 

Your eyes widened as you were suddenly bent in half, your knees touching your shoulders as he sank his heavy cock deep inside you. The stretch was almost too much, his throbbing sex nearly splitting you in two as he bottomed out. Your jaw went slack as you buried your nails into his thick shoulders, your toes curling as he began to rapidly thrust inside you. The musky smell grew even stronger as Johnny panted against your neck. Your whole body glowed with pleasure as he pounded deep inside you. You squeaked when he shoved his tongue inside your mouth, the taste of yourself so unfamiliar as he tangled his tongue with yours. 

“Mine,” he muttered against your lips before diving back in. Your walls pulsed around his massive shaft as you moaned into his mouth, your tongue gliding across each other’s hungrily. You broke with a slick “pop” as Johnny curled his hands around your calves, his cock driving into you at a desperate pace. 

“Oh my God!” you cried out as your orgasm suddenly ripped through you. You threw your head back as your pussy gripped and hugged Johnny’s shaft, drawing a deep, guttural growl from your lover. 

“F-uck,” he choked before stilling his hips. Your whole being lit up with a euphoria as you felt something pop deep inside you. You raked your nails over the ridges of his muscles as you felt his cum gush against your cervix. You babbled his name as his hot spend rushed out, soaking the inside of your thighs and the sheets below. Johnny huffed against your neck as his breathing slowed. 

“That…that was-” you gasped as he suddenly spun you around, his dick still lodged between your over sensitive walls as you lay on your stomach. Johnny quickly shoved his cock back inside you before rocking his hips forward. You mewled as his hands gripped your waist while he pounded into you from behind. You screamed into the blanket, your ass bouncing against his hairy abs as the room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin. 

Johnny panted as he kept a brutal pace, his sweaty body rubbing against yours as you drooled onto the sheets. 

“Mmm,” you murmured incoherently as you felt another pop ripple through your center. You gasped as more of his cum bursted from between your sexes and oozed over the back of your thighs. You mewled, the soft fabric of the blankets becoming soaked with your tears of bliss as he filled you past your limit. 

“J-Johnny-“ you slurred as he took you into his large arms. His eyes were glowing a bright blue as he licked over his canines. You gasped as he curled his arms beneath your knees. You released a silent scream of pleasure as he sank you down on his thick member. You drooled and rolled your head back as Johnny bounced you on his cock, his hips snapping upward as his cum flooded his hairy lap. 

“Oh fuck,” you squealed as your clit throbbed and walls pulsed around his length. Your head spun as you gripped and clawed at his taut arms. 

Johnny husked as skin slapped against skin. You gasped as your legs shook in his grasp, your toe-curling orgasm shaking you to the core. Your walls were completely stretched open as you felt his cock twitch for the last time. You shuddered as he filled your heat once more, the warm, gooey feeling of his spend making you melt from the inside out. 

Both of you panted as Johnny held you still, his cock stuffing all of his cum deep inside your hole. You mewled as he nuzzled his face against your neck. 

“That’s a good lass,��� Johnny murmured. 

----

Thank you for reading! ❤️

[grippingbeskar]

the right way to do it

johnny ‘soap’ mctavish x fem!reader

warnings— explicit content 18+ minors dni (nothin crazy, if you’ve read any of my fics you’ll be fine, just classic dirty talk and fuckin’, tiny bit of voyerism tho. whoops. generally soft tho, what can i say? i love soft and sweet stuff okay! let me be.) no fucking plot really. established (sort of) relationship. soap my baby boy being sexy.

a/n— i guarantee this is fucking terrible, but then again it’s fucking call of duty fan fiction. like, what the fuck. who writes that?? (oh. oh. i do now, apparently. kill me!) hope ya like it anyways!

“Stop it.” You use your knee to bash into the side of Soaps’ leg under the table, and he flinches so hard his chair drags along the ground with a loud squeak. He looks at you, his jaw open, shocked. Dramatic to the end. “You’re going to get us caught.”

Soaps hand retreats from your thigh, a smug grin on his face as he slides his chair back next to you, closer this time. The heat of his body is pressed against the line of yours, from his broad shoulders all the way down to where your matching combat boots touch on the floor. You can feel him laugh against you when you squirm in your chair, knowing he’s smiling even though he’s turned his head back to the front of the room. Smug bastard.

He knows just how easy you are to mess with.

After a while, when everyone’s attention has gone back to the droning meeting some of the Captains’ declared mandatory, Soap turns back to you, head flopping to the side and his eyebrows raised.

“You look flustered, hen. What’s gotcha all hot and bothered?” He grins lazily, the kind where it only lights up half his face, and you want to slap him. Dumb smile.

“Stop it.”

“You started it.” He retorts, reaching out for you again under the table.

“No, I didn’t!” Your eyes widen, pouting like a child. He was right, of course. You did start it, you just didn’t expect him to try and finish it in the middle of a meeting. “Johnny, this isn’t the time—“

“Ohh, I think it’s just the right time. Just like you thought playin’ with me like that at breakfast was the right time.” Your cheeks heat at the memory, how quickly he’d lost his ability to speak when you pressed up against him from behind and snuck your hands down his pants. He’d only just had the mind to moan your name before you disappeared, leaving him high and dry in the entrance to the mess hall.

You feel him again, deft fingers pulling you from your thoughts and looping into the pocket of your pants. You knew it was wrong— there were so many people in this room, and you should be paying attention, but all the fight just rushes out of you as soon as you feel him soothe circles onto your thigh, the thin barrier of material all that separates him from you.

“Hm. No come back f’me now? Cause this mornin’ you were allllll talk, but now—“ You feel him slide his hand out of your pocket, slowly so no one picks up on his movements. Then, he’s dipping it down further, curling his fingers around the meat of your thigh, hand dangerously high up. If you moved even an inch, took a breath too deep, he’d be… “Now, you gone all quiet on me.”

Voices start talking around you, but you can’t hear them anymore. Your heartbeat is too loud in your ears, and the only thing you tune into is his voice; lower and closer now. His chair creaks as he leans, the pressure on your thigh harder as he grips you to balance.

“C’mon. You know how much I love to hear your pretty little noises. Let me make ya’ feel good, love.” You can hear the smile in his voice. He was such an asshole, and he knew it. He knew he had you right there.

You shiver, and your feet move without your help. Just an inch to the side, you give him space between your legs to let his hand rise a little higher. It doesn’t matter that he’s got a shit eating grin, or how many eyes are potentially on you both right now, how many people are in this room— you have no fight when it comes to him.

“Yeah. There you are, love. You wan’ it that bad, don’t ya’? You’d let me give it to ya right here.” He whispers, words brushing against the shell of his ear. You think he must of chosen a pair of seats in the back just for this reason. “T’s alright. I’m not mean like you. I’ll give ya anything ya want.”

You turn your head to him sharply, giving him a pointed look. ‘Not mean’. He was a dick. A complete, total utter asshole—

“Shit, Johnny.” You curse as the strong line of his hand presses right up against your heat. Your hands fly from beside you, fingernails digging into his forearm, doing a pathetic attempt at pushing him away. “Wait…wait. We can’t—“

“Mhmm. Same thing I said this mornin’.” You squeeze your eyes shut, biting down on your bottom lip to stop from making any sounds. “You remember what you said t’me?”

His hand moves slowly, testing how much you wanted him to stop. He knew if you really wanted to, you could push him away easily. It’s almost sad how little you resist him, and your hips chase his movement of the aching drag up and down. It’s not enough, but for where you are right now, it’s far too fucking much.

“You two paying attention back there?” A booming voice calls from the front of the room, and Soap stops moving his hand. Your eyes open, and before you can squeak out a reply, he’s saving your ass.

“Of course, Captain. Always love our chats, you know that.” He says happily, saluting casually with his free hand, the other still between your legs. A few laughs muffle through the room, and it’s enough that the Captain goes back to reciting whatever was written on the board behind him. Soap leans back down to you. “Careful. You’ll get us caught.”

You roll your eyes, and he takes the chance of your short lived seclusion to press a chaste kiss to your neck. You gasp, eyes flying open.

“I asked you a question.”

“What are you…” You say, air struggling to get into your lungs with short, punched inhales. “Fuck, you gotta stop. We can’t do this here.”

“This morning. I told you to stop, and you said… ‘aw, but you look so pretty like this’. That’s what ya said.” You bite back a groan, remembering exactly that moment. How hard he was when your fingers brushed over his pants, how desperate he sounded. Okay… it was a bitchy move. But that was you and Soap. You teased each other. Surely he wouldn’t take it this far, though. “So mean to me. After I treat you so good last night too, aye?”

The lights dim around you, the Captains’ up the front starting to sit around the dull white background they’ve dropped. You know it means some boring report that’s been sent in, and it means a solid twenty minutes of your life you’ll never get back while some dude yells at you through a projector. Usually you dread this part. But right now, you are fucking antsy. Excited.

“Sh-shut up. You’re just as bad as me—fuck.” He’s not just touching you now— no, his hands, warm and strong, are splaying on the skin of your tummy and sliding down past the buttons of your military pants. He doesn’t waste time, dipping into your underwear and finding you soaked, a little ‘tsk’ coming from him in a heavy accent when he swirls his fingers softly around your clit.

“You okay, baby? You look a little out of it…” You manage to make eye contact with him, and the fucker is chastising you. A fake sympathetic smile is on his face, puppy dog eyes like he’s speaking to a child. “Don’t worry, I’ll give ya’ what you fuckin’ want. Right here, in front of all the boys. So dirty.”

“Soap.” You choke out, the pads of his fingers setting a slow, easy rhythm that has you nearly vibrating off the chair.

“Don’t call us that. What’s my name, baby?” He hums, shuffling his chair so close it’s clanking against yours now. “C’mon. Who’s makin’ you feel this fuckin’ good right now?”

“God— you, Johnny. You fucking prick.” You whisper, the low lights of the room hiding your fidgeting figure as the video continues to play on the projector at the front. “Come on, please…I can’t—“

“Shh. You’re okay, sweetheart. Nice and slow, aye?” His nose brushes along your cheek, and your shoulders sag. “Cause ya’ look so pretty. Just f’me.”

You all but sink into it, your body slumping into his chest as he keeps that same, stupidly slow pace. Heat licks up your stomach, staying low and making you start to sweat all over. You hear Soap hum, and feel his lips against your jaw, the touch hardly there but scorching none the less.

His teeth nip at the skin he kissed, and you squeak at the harsh touch, soon covered by kisses much more sure of themselves than the first. With the darkness of the room, he must feel more confident, because his free hand angles your head down, and his mouth claims yours.

While his hand circles between your legs, light and gentle, his mouth is harsh and fast. Johnny kisses you like he’s trying to overwhelm you. It’s always desperate and begging, even when he’s controlling you like this. It’s like if he doesn’t kiss you hard and fast, something real will show, and he’s scared of it.

While you’ve never labelled what the hell this… thing is, when he kisses you like this it’s clear he’s hiding something. You’re the same, so you happily take it. Whatever it is between you, it’s stupid and reckless, and it’s better to not be vulnerable. Being on the same team, throwing yourselves into war after war, taking bullets for each other like it’s a sport— you shouldn’t care this much about each other. It was stupid. It’s why it was easier for you both to pretend you were just using each other as an outlet.

It was just sex. Just a release.

“Fuck, Johnny.“ You whimper in his mouth, and he muffles the sound as he pulls you closer, locking your lips to his. “Please.”

“Please what, love? Huh? You want it faster?” He smiles on your lips, hands picking up the pace just slightly. “S’greedy, in front of everyone.”

Your body feels heavy. The hand holding his forearm, the one supposed to be putting up resistance has instead moulded to an encouraging spectator, slowly tracing the inside of his wrist. Your chest heaves, nearly making you wheeze every breath, and when your eyes flutter open, seeing his face painted in a glowing blue and green from the film lights, your legs nearly shake at the sight.

“Please get me out of here, okay? You win. Y-you… Jesus Christ, you win.” He grins. The audacity of this fucking guy, to grin in your face, blatantly admitting he just wanted to beat you today. Win this weeks battle with who was more whipped for who. He’s mentally marking it on a board, and you know he’ll throw it back in your face when you try to push him away again, but you let him have it.

Maybe you want him to have more ammunition next time you’re faced with the consequences of a bad mission. Where Soap needs to be surrounded, reminded he’s not alone after a long ride in the desert, you need to be alone. Want to be alone. You want to rot in your room, blinds drawn and covers over your head, a distant belief that if you sit there long enough you’ll just melt into the mattress and fade away.

He’s the only one that can pull you out. Even if it takes him just holding you in the dark, cold silence, or letting you yell at him that you don’t want him around, don’t need him bothering you— he takes it. He won’t break, not when it comes to you. He coaxes you out with the memory of how much you’re lying to yourself. How bad you do need him.

He’ll use this one next time for sure. How you dragged him out of a meeting, claiming something about a ‘medical emergency’ just so he could take you back to your room and fuck you.

You don’t mind. You think you might like it when he does.

He secretly does too. For all his bravado, the only person he wants to be around after a mission is you. As annoying as you are, and dramatic and fucking stubborn, he still toes his way to your room every time, sneaks his way under your covers, and hides out with you until everyone else is asleep. You think he needs the company of someone, when he really just needs you.

Your nails are digging into his shoulder, dragging him by the uniform down a hallway and around the corner to your room. You only get about halfway before he’s slamming you into the wall, all teeth and tongue as he claims your mouth and runs his hands over your body. He doesn’t even touch your skin, just grazes over the thick layers of clothes, but he’s still got you arching into his touch so you press against his chest. He nips your lower lip and smacks you lightly on the arse, giving you the chance to jump up into his arms.

He takes you in stride, everything about him confident and smooth. Even the things he doesn’t expect, he lets it come like easy, gentle waves. It’s almost impossible to catch him off guard— the first time you kissed him he acted like he played you all along.

When your back hits the softness of your bed, you open your eyes. You don’t remember moving this far, or locking the door behind you, but you know Johnnys’ got you. He always has you covered. Takes care of it so you don’t have to think.

“Take your fucking shirt off.” You grumble, clawing at the buttons of his top. He laughs, head buried in the crook of your neck where you know he’s leaving bruises and marks.

“So mean. Don’t even know how to act right when your under me.” The words sound like they should be threatening, or at the very least sarcastic, but he just sounds… happy. You can hear the smile in his voice, and when he pulls his head back up, he’s delirious almost. Pupils blown out, breathless laughter kissing your cheeks as he shuffles over the top of you. “You’re gorgeous like this. You know that?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, not able to look up at him. He’s better at this— the feelings. Even though neither of you can look each other in the eye to pay a compliment outside these moments, right here he’s the opposite. Always calling you pretty, looking at you with those happy eyes, betraying all the words the two of you throw at each other when your mad.

“Shirt, Johnny.”

“Hmm. You wanna see me?”

“Yeah. Hate it when you don’t let me see you. I… want to touch you.” It’s a small confession, spurred on by his compliment, and it seems to throw him off just a bit.

“Yeah?” You nod, your hands gently skimming along the strong line of his jaw. Pfft, you were gorgeous— he… he was fucking gorgeous. “What are you thinkin’ about right now?”

“How nice you are to look at.”

“Think that’s the first nice thing you said to me today.”

“I called you pretty this morning.” You remind him, a small smile from him making your earlier anger start to melt into something soft and gooey.

“You did.”

“Meant it too.” He rolls his eyes this time, and you keep your hands on his face.

“Bet you say that to all the boys.” He blows out a dramatic sigh, head tilting to the side. He’s trying to play it off. Play it into something funny and not real. Not true. You shake your head at him, eyebrows drawn together. The confidence in your fuzzy brain will disappear in a second, but you grab hold of it enough to get the next few words out.

“Never. No one but you, Johnny. I don’t want anyone else but you.” He blinks, stopping his movement for a second. Where he usually starts laughing, calls you greedy, maybe calls you a few dirty names, instead he pauses, scrunches his face together, and lets out a breath like you’ve punched him in the chest. “John?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he leans down, hovering his mouth over yours just for a second. You feel a warm palm cup your burning cheek, and he locks his eyes on you. The few seconds he holds there feel like eternity. Everything moves in slow motion, his stare freezing your heart inside you.

It’s heavy. Loaded with something dangerous. Something illegal. Something you can’t have.

Then, he leans down and kisses you.

He’s done it a hundred times, but this is… it’s just different. It’s so, so soft. His hand holds you to the bed, keeping you still, keeping you malleable for him. His lips connect, only for a few seconds, kissing you like you’ll cut him if he moves too quick. When he does press closer, you feel him sigh— the forearm of his free arm drops next to your head, like the weight of him was too much.

You don’t remember your eyes closing. It must of been too much to look at him when he’s touching you so gently. Like he really cared. Wanted to care.

It’s over too soon. You find yourself leaning up, chasing the softness of his mouth, the taste of his tongue. His hand keeps you down, and he never looks away as he uses the other to rip his shirt over his head. The soft clang of his dog tags tangle under his chin, and draw your attention lower, to his chest.

You don’t know if you’ve told him how attracted to him you are. You know he knows— he’d have to by now. You wouldn’t have gotten with him at first if you weren’t. It’s why this whole thing started. It was just physical at first, but then he started talking, started staying longer after, and now it was fucking overwhelming. Everything about him was more and more alluring, and your hands reached out before you could stop them. You smile at the way he lets you explore. That he remembers what you said, and lets you indulge.

Your fingertips brushed their way over his stomach, and he nearly shivered under the soft touch. He was staring at you, watching your every move as you traced languid lines over and up his chest. He was breathing hard, and when your fingers twisted in the long chain of his tags, he nearly stopped completely. You yanked him back down, hovering him over you, as one of his hands comes back to brace near your head.

Wordless stills, he snakes his arm down between your bodies and pulls at the hem of your shirt. You obey the silent command, never breaking eye contact as you tug your jacket and shirt off in one go. Suddenly, you feel something you’ve never felt with him before.

You’re vulnerable.

Usually, it’s all fight. The two of you are either so mad at each other that you spend the entire time trying to win, trying to get a higher score, or you’re both so frustrated that you hardly even look each other in the eye. This is… heavy.

He leans down again, his eyes shutting tightly before he kisses you. You hum, unable to not smile underneath him as he kisses you with that same gentle affection, and your hands thread up behind his neck into the short crop of his hair, tugging him down closer. Skin meets skin, warmth blooming in your chest as he slides up your body to fit his hips between your legs. His mouth melts into yours, groaning as you tug his hair a little bit harder.

He says your name, the sound curling around your throat and choking out a strangled whimper, and then he grinds his hips slow and heavy into you, your mind going a bit blank.

“Shit. What are we… what are you doing? Hurry the fu…fuck. Fuck.” Your eyes roll back with another slow roll of his hips, and he laughs breathlessly.

“Shh. Just go with it.” He does it again, leaving a wet trail of kisses under your jaw and down to his favourite spot on your neck. He’s taking his time, tasting your skin like it’s something to be savoured. “T’s nice, isn’t it? Feels good.”

“Yeah…f-feels good.” You mumble, hiding your face in the pillows as he tugs your pants down, throwing them somewhere behind him.

He doesn’t treat himself as nice, ripping at his own pants and ridding them as quick as possible. Then he’s sinking back over you, letting you feel just how much he likes it like this. When you wrap your arms around him again and kiss him, he’s warm and safe, and you let him sweep you up into it.

He slides his hand down slow, fingers hardly grazing your clit and going past, and you know he’s fucking with you on purpose. You whine his name, and he laughs— the familiarity of the sound making you a little more confident. You bite his lower lip a bit harder than you should, and he groans.

“Don’t fucking tease me, Mactavish.” You whine pitifully, and he shakes his head.

“Not teasin, princess. Enjoyin’ it.” He draws out the words, each of them twirled in his strong accent that somehow makes you even dizzier than before.

“You didn’t enjoy it before?” You pout, and this time he laughs a little harder. Before he answers, one of his fingers slide up, and then easily slip inside of you, curling slowly so you arch of the bed.

“Yer aff yeir heid.” He mumbles, kissing you quickly like he’s trying to shut off that thought. “Just like takin’ my time with ya. Get to see more of you. You’re beautiful.”

Your chest is heavy, and you can’t focus, pleasure lighting up every nerve in your body. You feel him against your inner thigh, hard and warm, and every slight movement has him panting into your mouth. You know he’s built up from this morning, how you left him waiting and didn’t even look back. You feel bad. Horrible.

How could you leave him there? How could you leave him anywhere now, when he was looking at you like this? Like you held answers he’d been searching for all his life, right in your eyes?

It’s never been this slow. God— it fucking hurts, that’s how slow it’s moving. His fingers curl inside of you, no rush, hitting just the right spot in a way that would have you cumming in his hand if he just sped up a little. This way, he keeps you on edge, right on the precipice— hoping he lets you fall into it. You’re at his mercy, but from the feeling of him, he’s at yours, too.

“Johnny— that’s feels so good. You’re so g-good, please.” You wheeze out, feeling waves of blinding heat surging low in your tummy. He kisses you again, and you could finish just from this. The sweetness of his mouth, how his words drip like honey over your cheek, how careful he is. How loving.

“You’re okay, bonnie. You just keep ya eyes on me. I’ll take care of everythin’ else.” Your eyebrows furrow, eyes trying to focus as you feel your muscles tighten. His thumb presses lightly on your clit; soft circles drawing you into another embarrassing whine of his name. “Come on. Show me how good ya are f’me.”

“Jesus— fuck!” It feels different. You can hardly see, hardly hear anything but his low, soothing voice in your ear, telling you how sexy you are, how tight you feel around his fingers. You want to tell him to… to keep going, or stop, both— something. You want to say something, but all that comes out is his name.

Johnny. Johnny. Johnny—

You can’t control it. Pleasure blinds you— it’s cliche but it’s all you can describe it as. Your toes curl, and your fingers scrape down his back to try and find a way to ground yourself. You try to muffle your sounds, but Soap keeps your head forward with a hand on your jaw. So he can watch your face when you cum from his fingers.

“That’s it, gorgeous. Fuckin’ hell—“ You hear his voice groan in your ear, and the pleasure makes your legs shake. You’re vaguely aware that his hand slows, lazily playing with your clit as you ride out your high, but mainly you watch as he comes back into focus. You watch his eyes— pupils dilated, looking at you in awe. “You sound so pretty when you come. Fuckin’ gorgeous girl.”

Seriously— you think you’ve only seen him look like that when something blows up in front of him. Sort of mystified and obsessed.

You’re gasping for air as he moves you, flipping you over and shuffling you up the bed. You lose track of him, the haze of pleasure dumbing you down to only the most basic of movements, but then he’s there again, and you reach out.

He takes your hands, kissing your palms before pulling you to him, legs parting on instinct as he draws you into his lap. He’s leant himself against the headboard, and at some point taken off his boxers, but now, when your legs give out and you lean your weight on him, you both gasp at the feeling. His cock is hard, pressing against your wet heat, and he’s nearly shivering in anticipation. One of his hands paw at your hips, pulling you closer so your pussy drags along his length, and the other cups your cheek.

Time stops again, just for a second. His eyes pull you in, and you blink a few times to focus. His thumb traces your bottom lip. He says something you don’t understand under his breath, muttering in a heavy accent.

“Johnny…” You whisper, your heart racing.

“Yeah, love.”

“What are you doing to me?” You could cry, you were so under his spell right now. If he wanted to, this could be the ultimate win. He could shatter you with a few mean words— but for some reason, you didn’t think he would.

“You know what I’m doin’. What this is. Don’t you, love?” His thumb catches your chin, pulling you into one of those soft kisses he’s been hiding from you, and it’s so classic of him you nearly laugh.

Everything he does, he does in stride. With confidence. Even this— a changing of a reliable tide, a shift in your relationship into a strange and unpredictable horizon, he handles like he’s always known it was coming. Like it was inevitable. You couldn’t of been more lost right now, but if he knew, if he could guide you, you’d be okay.

“That alright?” He whispers lowly, dipping his head to catch your eyes.

“Course. Yeah. Yeah— I want…” You swallow hard. Fear and insecurity creep up your throat and tighten it. “I want you. Really bad.”

It takes him a second, and then he grins. “I know, love. Can feel ya on me—“

“Not like— not just like that.” His head tilts, smiling incredulously at you, but he must be able to tell. You can’t say what you’re feeling right now, but what you were doing was enough. Extending an olive branch, and he was going to fucking snatch it out of your hands and consume every inch.

“You’re so sweet. I want ya too, okay? Don’t look so fuckin’ nervous.”

“M’not nervous.” You mumble it. It could not be less convincing. He was still smiling. “Stop looking at me like that and I won’t be.”

“Like what?” He’s got a dopey, lazy look on him, so you shift your hips, and his confidence shakes as you drag your clit across the sensitive head of his leaking cock. “Shit—“

“You okay, Johnny?” You whisper and he nods furiously. He’s the one squeezing his eyes shut now, and you kiss the crease in his forhead before you raise your hips and start to sink down on him, keening at the catch of his head at your entrance. “Oh, god—“

It feels right. Whatever the fuck you two were doing before— it wasn’t as good as this. The whispers of each others names, the feeling of heat splitting it’s way up your spine, how he holds you so close you think you might explode under the pressure. This was the right way to do it.

“Fuck. Fuckin— slow, baby. I’m gonna fuckin’ finish if ya don’t go—“ He chokes out another harsh exhale, sounding winded. He’s holding your hips so hard he’ll leave bruises, and you moan at the thought of it. “Fucking tight as fuck.”

“Relax.” You coo in his ear, trying to distract the both of you from the stretch of him slowly filling you.

Even though he’s had you countless times, you still struggle to take him like this— and he clearly does too. It’s a favourite for both of you for this reason. You both crave the little bit of pain, something that reminds you where you are. What you’re doing. Mainly who you’re doing it with. It might have been subconscious before, but now… there’s nothing that could deny who was breaking you apart.

He says your name over and over as he starts fucking up into you, and you feel him so deep like this. He controls you easily, the muscles in his arms and chest straining with how hard every thrust of his hips snaps against yours. You nearly sob when he goes faster, familiar brutality mixed with the soft way he’s watching your eyes has your mind swimming in the pleasure he drives into you.

Your head falls back, and he wraps an arm around your lower back, holding you to him. Both of you grind into the way he has you, him still fucking you at a pace that practically strips you bare. You can’t hide anything from him here— not with your foreheads stuck together, bodies pressed in every way they can, Johnnys hands pawing at your ass, your tits, anything they can find that gets a new sound out of you.

“Feels so good.” You sigh, your entire body at his mercy as he slams himself up off the bed. It’s still slow, slow enough that he can keep your eyes locked on him, but fuck— he’s so hard with it, you know you’ll feel him for days. “So good. Fuck. More—“

“Shit, I know baby.” He kisses you, teeth clashing as you try to keep up with the way he moves. Your body melts when he kisses you, moulding against him and letting him use you.

You want him to use you. You want him to take all the things you know he wants, but you’re too scared to admit you can give to him. Nothing about the life you live is safe, or guaranteed, but whatever you have here is grounding, and it’s enough. More than enough— but you just can’t say it.

You roll your hips again, and you hear his low moans turn breathy and soft. He’s close. You can feel it. He’s been worked up all day because of you, and you don’t want him to wait again. You want him to take it.

“Fuck, baby I’m gonna—“

“I know. Keep going, wanna feel it.” You nearly sob, and Soap looks at your broken features and kisses them away.

Your world rotates as he flips you on your back, your hands pulled from his hair as his rough fingertips hold your wrists down. He pins them above your head, sounds spilling from him that have sparks flying in your chest. That’s the thing that makes this so fucking different. It’s not even the sounds— it’s who’s making them. Who’s doing it to you.

It’s him.

It’s all about him.

He spreads you wide, his free hand grabbing your calf and pushing it down so he can fuck you deeper. He looms over you, holding you down with his body weight, and the last thing you see is his head turn, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee, and then he says your name as you fall into bliss.

Everything locks and releases in tandem, your body somehow tight and loose at the same time. You arch off the bed, Soaps arms wrapping you close as you feel warmth spread across your stomach. His breath is hot as he rides out his high, head tucked into your neck, and he grounds you as pleasure seeks its way through the cloud of your brain.

“T’s too good. You’re fuckin— shit. Shit, baby.” He talks through it, knowing you love the sound of his voice, and he doesn’t even need to touch you to help you ride it out. Waves of searing bliss drown you in the feeling he’s giving you, and when he finally starts to slow, you just say his name again, hearing him echo it back to you. “Yeah. That’s fuckin’ right. Me.”

After a while, things get a little less fuzzy, and you can feel his hand leave your wrists. Your hands come down on their own volition, threading through his hair. You feel his head tilt a little, leaning into the soft touch of your hand, so you keep going, letting your fingertips dance along his scalp. It’s doing the same thing for you that it is for him— giving you something to focus on while your heart slows.

His hair is unfairly soft. It should be straw dry and breaking off with the shitty 3-in-1 shampoo, conditioner and body wash he uses. You tried it once, and it made your pony tail move in one direction for a week. But his is like… feather soft. So easy to comb through, you could spend hours like this.

“I like that.” He says after a while. He’s not pinning you anymore, half moved to the side with an arm and a leg thrown over you. His head was still hidden, buried so close that when he talks, his lips brush against your collarbone.

“How is your hair so soft?” You mumble, more to yourself, your hands no longer shaking from adrenaline and pleasure. “Not fair.”

“Natural beauty n’ all.” He says, and you can feel the dumb smirk he has on his face. You twirl your fingers in his hair and pull lightly, and he fakes a yelp. “Owwww.”

“Such a drama queen.” You roll your eyes, and he groans emphatically as he hauls himself up and over to hang above you. His eyebrows are raised, and he’s smiling.

Maybe his smile isn’t so dumb.

“We’re gonna be in shit for missin’ that meeting, you know.” He says, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Hope you got a good excuse.”

“I don’t even care.” You sigh, a little delirious in the come down from such a high. He laughs, all bright and happy, and you smile back at him. “I’m just glad we’re… you know. Here.”

He stares at you for a second, for what feels like the millionth time today, but then he leans down and kisses you again. Even though it had happened so many times, you don’t think there’d be a time you’d get tired of it. Not the looks, not the kisses, or any of it. Even though everything was on the line, you’d give it all up, lose all the battles, if it meant this.

“Yeah. Me too.” He grins. Your heart skips.

His smile is definitely not dumb.

[ghostandsoap]

Stay

John "Soap" MacTavish x Fem! "Viper" Reader Tags: Assassination mission. Gunfire. Snipers. A/N: I feel like this sucks. Does it suck? Let me know if it sucks. Word Count: 6.0k "You can't leave."

John MacTavish was a deadly, silent marksman.

He struck fear into the heart of any enemy that dared to cross him...if they could even figure out that he was there to begin with. As Force 141's go-to sharpshooter and sniper, he had more than enough experience and advice to go around.

It wasn't lost on Sergeant MacTavish that he was one of the best -- but even then, his ego was never swollen. In fact, he felt like he was doing a disservice if he wasn't passing his wisdom along to someone just as talented and capable as him.

So when word on the street was that Captain Price had recruited a newly trained sniper to Force 141, Soap started preparing.

He wasn't surprised in the least when Captain Price approached him with a manila folder with a "classified" stamp on it. Soap wasn't shocked in the slightest when Price asked him to take the newbie under his wing.

He was more than happy to accept. He wasn't totally thrilled about the fact that most of his free time would be taken up by this, but it was a small price to pay to have the satisfaction of spreading his knowledge to someone deserving of his time and energy.

Price gave Soap a brief rundown, which didn't amount to much at all. Any information that Soap was going to have to know about this person was going to have to come from their files or from the person themselves. However, Price did give Soap a tiny sliver of information to get him intrigued.

"She's highly respected despite the fact she's young," Price had said with a chuckle. "They call her Viper."

Viper. The name rattled down his spine and left a tingle in his feet. He could only imagine where that name came from, and he was interested to know more.

And it seemed the more that Soap read up on her, the more that curiosity grew. As he read through her file, it became exceedingly clear to him as to why she was so well known and respected by her peers and mentors.

Viper showed a talent for sharpshooting in her early days of training. With proper mentoring and guidance, she ended up attending and finishing sniper school as one of the best.

When word spread that Captain John Price was looking for another sharpshooter for his infamous Task Force 141, Viper's information file was delivered to his desk almost immediately.

Price was betting on her just after seeing her file himself and after chatting with a few colleagues that had worked directly with her. His hopes for her only tripled when he actually met her in person to get a feel for how she would do with the rest of his team.

He knew that she would fly no matter what, but under Soap's supervision and guidance? She would soar.

Price introduced Soap and Viper to one another as soon as everything was settled...and truth be told, Soap almost scared her off on the first day.

Soap might have...overestimated how strong of a personality she was going to have prior to meeting her. With a name like "Viper", there was no question in his mind that she wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. And to an extent, he was correct. However, it seemed that his calculations had deemed her as nothing but a storm of venom and hatred, which was also not quite right.

Well of course Soap couldn't risk appearing smaller and weaker than the person who was supposed to be his student, so he amped up the side of him that was more "bad guy-ish."

He maintained the coldest stare that he could manage, and he didn't crack even a hint of a smile or any expression that showed him as anything but mean. He should've known that he was making a fool of himself when her eyes went wide and (quite frankly) concerned the moment he spoke to her in a tone that was less than pleasant.

Nonetheless, he kept this charade up for the duration of their first encounter, and by the end of their first day together, she was second guessing this entire arrangement. She debated running straight to Price and begging him to transfer her somewhere else and to someone who didn't act like they wanted to kill her in her sleep.

But thankfully Soap was intelligent enough to realize that his assumptions about her were horribly incorrect. When he saw just how rattled and exhausted she looked at the end of that day, he knew he needed to clear things up.

Once the misunderstanding was discussed and a "start over" was agreed upon, things went much smoother.

The two of them took off immediately. She soaked up every bit of advice he gave, and he practiced with her every free chance they had. For the most part, he helped her get familiarized with all kinds of different sniper rifles and practiced with her.

Any long ranged weapon that he had access to, he wanted her to be comfortable working with. He never wanted her to get into a situation where she needed to take someone out from a distance and was stuck with a weapon that she had no experience with.

As far as practice, they spent at least two hours at the shooting range every day. For the first few weeks, they stayed at the range. The range was a controlled environment with no outside factors...which also meant no distractions.

Eventually, Soap started taking her to locations outside of the range so that she could practice shooting from different elevations and altitudes. He wanted her to always be able to take wind speed and direction into account. He needed to know that she could still accurately locate a target at nighttime and in bad weather.

Long story short, Soap's end goal for her was easy. He wanted her to be able to take down an enemy in any environment, at any time, and with any long ranged weapon.

He had total faith in her, because it didn't take long for him to see for himself that, yes, she was very talented.

She was a fast learner, and when she was struggling with something, she persisted until she perfected it. She was determined and motivated in a way that he had never seen. He was impressed by her. He liked her.

The days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into days. Each new day, he was getting to know her as a soldier...and eventually, he was getting to know her as a person.

They were sharing things with one another that absolutely no one else on the planet knew or would ever know. He felt like she knew him better than anyone, and he had only known her a few months.

Their practice outings began ending with them sticking around in whatever place they were in, just chatting with one another and taking a load off from a long day.

One day in particular, about four months into this, he managed to get information out of her that he had wanted to know since the moment her callsign graced his ears.

The two of them were sitting together on top of a hill out in the middle of nowhere, dusk just beginning to creep over the sky as they sat together.

"So I've gotta ask ya," He had asked, slicing the blade of his knife into the red skin of the apple he had brought with him. "Where'd you get a name like Viper?"

Viper had laughed at his question, honestly surprised that he hadn't asked sooner.

"A few reasons actually. I'm fast, but also quiet...I can be pretty aggressive," She told him. "But mainly it comes from the fact that I can track and locate a target so easily and efficiently...especially through a scope."

"Oh, that's a good one." Soap said.

That was all he said after that. She waited patiently for a few seconds, expecting him to reciprocate the obvious.

"What about you?" She asked.

"What 'bout me?" He returned.

"Your callsign. Where does 'Soap' come from?" She clarified.

A shit-eating grin spread on the Scot's face as he popped a slice of apple into his mouth.

"That's classified Information." He remarked through chewing.

"What?!" She shrilled, unable to mask her smile. "I told you mine, so you have to tell me yours!"

"Not how it works."

"That's messed up. That is so not fair, Sergeant." She laughed an airy laugh, the kind that made his heart flutter and speak for himself before his brain had a chance to object.

"John," He blurted, his cheeks growing pink. "You don't have t'call me anything formal when it's just us."

The apple in his stomach was turning now, because that was the first moment that he realized that he was pining for her in a way that was beyond what he could control.

"Okay. I can call you John," She said to him, smiling in a way that almost made him collapse down the hill that they were perched on top of. "Now will you tell me why they call you Soap?"

He grinned and offered her the rest of his apple.

"No way."

After that, Soap found any excuse he could to see her and spend time with her. It got to a point where if someone needed to find Soap, they didn't even bother asking where he was. If they knew where Viper was, then they knew where Soap was.

They were glued to one another. She was excelling and improving every day, which only made him better and stronger as a result. The more time he spent with her, the harder he fell for her.

His likeness towards her was turning into something so much more wonderful. He was appreciating the world around him in ways he never had before.

John MacTavish was in love.

__

"Keep your breathing steady..." Soap instructed, his voice almost at a whisper. "Hold your breath right before you fire."

Viper was in the zone. She was perched with Soap's chosen sniper rifle of the day, staring at her assigned "target" through the scope. They were back at the range today, which should've made her feel more comfortable. However, Viper felt a bit of pressure today that she usually didn't feel when practicing because today Captain Price was observing.

Nonetheless, she did everything as she normally would. She waited until she was ready, she held, and she pulled the trigger. There wasn't any loud sound of a gunshot considering the weapon she was using was a suppressed rifle, but there was no noise greater than Soap when he was excited.

"Perfect shot," He buzzed. "Couldn't have done it better myself."

Her target wasn't a real enemy, of course. It was just a dummy that they used for shooting practice. Still, Soap was beaming and she was proud.

"What do I always tell ya, Vi?" He asked, leaning his head closer waiting for his signature quote.

"Be unseen and unheard until it's too late." She said, accepting Soap's hand to guide her up from the ground.

He grinned at her, waving Captain Price over to join the conversation. Price was wearing a proud, satisfied smirk as he approached them.

Price had been watching them closely over the many, many months that Soap had been working with her. He was pleased with Soap's mentorship, and even more pleased that she was blossoming into likely the best sniper he would ever see in his lifetime.

Not to mention, it wasn't lost on Price that Soap had grown to care for her.

Soap was interested in her in a way that extended past a teacher-student arrangement. Soap didn't have to take so much time with her. Truthfully, Soap's dedication to her was far beyond what Price could've ever hoped for.

"Nice work, Viper. Everything still going alright?" He asked.

Every once in a while, Price would ask that question. And every time, he got the same answer.

"Yes sir. All is well." She smiled.

"Good. You're quite the crackshot," He said, shifting the conversation topic. "I need to steal Soap from you for a moment. You mind catching up later?"

Soap and Viper shared a brief look before she answered.

"Sure, Captain."

Viper respectfully left the captain and the sergeant to chat and talk shop, and Soap already knew what Price wanted to talk to him about.

"You move out for Russia next week," Price said, and Soap nodded. "We need to talk about Viper."

Soap had known about this trip to Russia for two weeks. There was a job that needed to be handled there, and Force 141 would be heading there shortly. The mission was critically important.

Of course Viper had been with them on missions before. She was a part of the task force after all, so she was one with the team. However, Viper hadn't been put to the test yet. And this mission, if Price decided yes, would most definitely test her.

It was an assassination mission.

It was a mission that was going to be reliant on one person to be successful. And Captain Price was trying to decide if that person was going to be Viper or Soap.

Soap knew that Price was considering letting Viper take the lead on this one. Soap hadn't told Viper about the mission yet. He didn't want her to have that pressure simmering for so long. He didn't want Viper getting into her own head.

Soap would've been the obvious choice for this job, but Price was beginning to feel as if Viper was ready for this.

Soap knew her better than Price did at this point, whatever Soap said would determine Price's decision.

"You've been working with her for over six months," Price said.

Seven months and 12 days, actually. Soap thought to himself.

"You're the best judge of her ability and readiness to do this mission," Price went on. "She needs to be able to handle the pressure."

Soap understood exactly what Price was saying. Essentially, the captain was asking if Viper was ready for this.

Soap had complete confidence in her. She was already incredibly sharp when she first joined 141, and now she was an even better version of herself. There wasn't a doubt in Soap's mind that Viper was as prepared as she could possibly be.

"What's the verdict, Sergeant?" Price asked, arms crossed over his chest. "Is she ready?"

Without hesitation or lack of confidence, Soap answered.

"Absolutely she is."

___

This part of Russia is what she could only describe as the absolute middle of nowhere.

The land was extreme, and the tundra seemed to stretch out into hundreds of miles in every single possible direction. The land was painted white with the occasional silhouette of a tree or some other natural landmark.

Yet for some reason, in the middle of this vast land of nothingness, there was a small cabin about a mile away, only visible to Viper through the crosshairs of her scope.

Viper didn't mind the snow and frost in the least, but what she didn't care for was the extreme cold temperatures that came with them. And since it was nighttime, the frigid air was much worse. The air was so crisp and clean that her lungs were stinging with every inhale of air she took.

The sky was ablaze with millions and millions of twinkling stars, and if she had the time or focus to actually look up and study them...she might've even been able to see other galaxies.

But Viper wasn't out in the wilderness of Russia to stargaze and make wishes on those stars. Viper was here on business.

So here she was, hunkered down in the snow and camouflaged with the earth beneath her. Her rifle was an extension of herself tonight, as familiar to herself as her own heartbeat.

Even though she wasn't fond of the cold, it wasn't bothering her tonight. The numbness in her fingers and toes was ignored for the time being.

Soap and Ghost were elsewhere, but relatively close by. Their tasks were different for this mission, mainly to retrieve the body and to eliminate any unwanted visitors.

"Viper, this is Ghost. How copy?" The lieutenant's voice sounded in her ear.

"I hear you, Lieutenant. How's the weather down there?" She asked, keeping her voice low.

"Cold n' bitter." Soap chimed in, and she could hear Ghost's chuckle.

"At least you aren't buried in the snow." Viper remarked

The three of them had been bantering back and forth like this for a while. Something that most people don't know about being a sniper is that you have to have some serious patience. They had been playing the waiting game, and they had to do something to pass the time and the silence.

"Johnny'll warm you up when this is over." Ghost teased.

Soap had smacked Ghost's arm for that one, not believing that his friend was trying to embarrass her.

Viper's cheeks ran warm at that comment, which would've been nice in this weather if it hadn't been under flustered circumstances. She didn't respond, and thankfully she didn't have to, because there was sudden movement through her scope.

With perfect timing, she heard Soap again.

"Do you have a visual on the target?" Soap's voice echoed in Viper's ear.

Viper didn't move a single inch.

"Affirmative." She replied.

A very simple pause followed, and then an even simpler command was given.

"Take him out."

She steadied her breathing. She placed her index finger on the trigger. She held her breath, and she fired.

Her vision tunneled for a moment after she pulled the trigger, something that sometimes happened after she made a shot. When she looked through the scope again, her target wasn't down like he should've been.

He was on the move, alarmed and fleeing the area. Where he was going to go in this kind of environment, she wasn't sure. However, with enemies like this, they always had an escape plan.

"Shit." Soap cursed.

She missed.

She couldn't have missed him by more than a couple of inches. Her bullet was just a hair too far above, which only alerted her target and completely missed him altogether.

Nobody had expected Viper to miss. Especially not Soap. He knew that she didn't have long to reload and correct her second shot before her target disappeared.

"Viper, track him and fire again," He instructed, trying not to sound too urgent and make her nervous. "You've only got a couple of seconds."

She was trying not to panic, despite the fact that she was all shaken up from the fact that she missed. She had practiced a shot like this for what felt like a million times. How could she miss now when it was the real thing?

Viper reloaded, marked her target, aimed the crosshairs, and fired again.

There was a squeeze of the trigger, a puff of smoke, and her target a mile away that crumpled to the ground in an instant.

Viper coughed out a relieved, but stunned noise. One that came from a place of knowing that her target almost got away.

"Target is down," Soap said, yet Viper still felt sick. "Beautiful shot, Vi."

Soap and Ghost moved in swiftly, getting the now dead target out before his comrades showed up. Viper pulled away from the scope, her eyes finding two little, distant figures running around that she knew to be them.

She rested her forehead against the back of her hand, her mind spinning and reeling at a million miles an hour.

She knew that Price would hear about this -- the fact that she missed the first time. He had put so much faith into her and bragged about her to everybody. How would he react to this?

Even worse than that, how was Soap going to react?

Soap had put his blood, sweat, and tears into shaping her. He spent more time and energy on her than anyone else ever had in the last seven months. He taught her everything he knew. Every tip, trick, and piece of advice he had -- she knew it by heart.

How could she repay him like this?

"Meet us down here at the cabin," Ghost's voice returned to her ear. "Need to be heading out."

She predicted that Ghost wouldn't say much to her for the rest of the night. Not because he was angry or disappointed, but because he felt like not addressing it at all was the best way to protect her feelings and her pride.

Viper knew she needed to meet up with them quickly, and they needed to get back to their base for the night. Her entire body shook as she packed up her gear, the trembling was both from the cold and the severe anxiety that she was feeling at that moment.

She felt like a complete and utter waste of Soap's time. She felt like all his attention and effort that was used on her was for nothing. She almost blew it.

Viper used everything she had to keep it together as she worked her way down the hill. The last thing she needed was to fall apart in front of them, because then she would be a failure and weak.

At this point, she was just wondering if she still had what it took.

___

She had been staring at the fire for over an hour.

The chill in her bones had faded long ago, but she couldn't bring herself to stand from where she sat -- huddled up in front of the fire, contemplating everything that she had been doing in the last several months.

She could feel the heat radiating off of it, the same heat that might've saved her from hypothermia if she had stayed out in the cold Russian wilderness for too long.

The flames burned bright orange and dark red, dancing and casting long shadows against the far wall behind her. The flames were reflected in her glassy eyes, a painted picture of disappointment and questioning of her own abilities.

She hadn't said a word to Soap or Ghost since meeting back up at the cabin. She was too embarrassed to even spare either of them a passing glance. She felt like she had failed worse than she ever had.

Soap and Ghost gave her space for a bit. They ordered her to sit in front of the fire to get warmed up after being covered in snow and ice for so long. And that was how she found herself stuck in a daze, staring into those burning flames like they were her only source of life.

Their "base" was hardly anything at all. It was a one floor structure that you might could call a house.

This house was nestled in the vast expanse of birch trees that were dusted with snow and decorated with solid icicles. It was a small three room house with a kitchen, living room, and bedroom.

It was a relic, really. Long forgotten and abandoned by someone who was long gone by now. The wooden walls were weathered by the harsh winters and summers of Russia, but the structure was firm and resilient.

As she stared into that fire, Viper wondered what sort of stories and memories this house contained. She wondered what kind of history and life this place had. At least now the house was serving a purpose.

Unlike herself. Or, at least, that was how she felt.

Viper isolated herself in the living room, sitting on the hand-woven rug and ignoring the way the creaky floors made her bottom half ache. Ghost and Soap were cornered in the kitchen, which was only separated from the living room with a singular adjacent wall.

They were crammed together at the small table in there, basically just waiting for enough time to pass before they felt it was right to talk to her.

For Soap to talk to her.

Soap wasn't planning on yelling at her. Soap wasn't sure if he could ever bring himself to yell at her for anything at all.

He thought that maybe she wasn't ready for the kind of pressure this mission put on her. Maybe he was so in love with her that everything she did seemed to be extraordinary...which in turn blinded him to the fact that she needed more time.

But Soap (as much he did love her) felt confident that if this was truly, 100% her fault -- then he would know. Besides, she technically didn't fail this mission. The assassination was successful after all...but he knew that she was hung up on the plain fact that it almost wasn't.

Soap stood from the wooden table, sighing to himself as he mentally prepped for this conversation.

"Go easy on her, Johnny." Ghost said. "She's still learning."

Soap wasn't angry at her in the slightest. If anything, he felt like she should've been angry at him.

"What do I say to her?" Soap asked his lieutenant.

"Encourage her. Reassure her that it's not the end of the world," Ghost said. "And just be you when you say it."

Soap nodded. He understood what Ghost was saying. After all, it wasn't lost on anybody how Soap felt about her.

Soap left Ghost behind, entering the living room that was bursting with warmth. His heart stung at the sight of her so down and discouraged. He needed to fix this.

Soap was silent as he approached her, his footsteps heavy against the creaking floorboards. He lowered himself to the floor, sitting next to her without a word.

She knew he was there. And now that he was there, she had a million thoughts sprinting through the track of her mind. She was scared to speak first, because she didn't know how he was feeling.

"Talk to me, Vi. I'd feel a lot better if you did." He meant to say it as a command, but it came out as more of a request.

She couldn't look at him. She only continued to look at the fireplace in front of her.

"I missed," She said, which was obvious of course, but it was different actually hearing her say it out loud. "Almost twice."

Her voice was meek and insecure. It just wasn't like her.

"Yeah, you did." Soap remarked, his tone neutral and not showing any hard emotion.

"How did I miss?" She stared down at her hands that felt like they were weighing the rest of her down. "I was so prepared..."

"You were prepared -- as prepared as you could'a been." He agreed.

In a weird way, she wanted him to be angry. She wanted him to scream in her face and shake her around until she was begging for another chance and to keep her job. She wanted to suffer for making it look like he had failed to teach her.

But he wasn't going to do any of that. Not to her.

"Then how did I miss?" She was almost scared to ask.

"Unexpected wind. You felt rushed or distracted," He listed a few possibilities. "You got nervous under pressure...I put too much pressure on you."

Viper didn't believe that, even if it was partly true.

"Real soldiers don't get nervous." She remarked, her words sharp.

"Bullshit," He scoffed. "That doesn't make you a soldier. It makes you human."

Viper didn't say anything after that. She felt as if her natural reaction (as a result of being human) to a high-stress situation is what caused her to be unsuccessful in her mission. She hadn't let just herself and Soap down, she had let her entire team down.

Soap was still struggling with how to talk to her. He knew what Ghost had said, but which approach would she react best to -- her sergeant or the guy who had grown sweet on her?

"C'mon, Vi. You took him down," Soap said. "Stop beatin' yourself up."

She shook her head at her sergeant. His sudden casualness almost made her frustrated. She didn't say anything for a few more moments, before she did say something that made Soap immediately begin to panic.

"I'm putting in my resignation when we get back."

Soap processed what she said about as fast as she said it. His heart collapsed to his feet and fired back up into his throat. She couldn't quit. He wouldn't allow it.

He wouldn't lose her like this.

"What?" He blurted, realizing that his goal now was to prevent her from doing something stupid. "You can't leave."

"I missed, John. You can't just miss shots like that."

"Everybody misses," He stated. "And you still took him down the second time. Why can't you understand that?"

A quick beat passed. The crackling of the fire sounded loudly.

"You don't." She mumbled.

"What're you talkin' about? 'Course I've missed," He remarked. "And I've missed enough t'know that everybody misses."

"Okay," She said, her words sharp and defensive. "So what am I supposed to do now?"

He ignored her harsh tone. He kept talking to her as he had been.

"Come back home with me. Keep practicing. Make a perfect technique even more perfect," Soap said. "I promise you, doll -- keep at it n' you won't even think anything of what happened tonight."

She found that hard to believe. How could she ever get over the fact that she almost lost her very first high-pressure mission? The first of many?

Soap was out of things to say. Nothing that he was saying to her seemed to be making a dent. She was stubborn for sure, and now it wasn't working in his favor.

He had to be transparent with her. It was the only way he could talk her out of leaving the team.

Out of leaving him.

"You can't leave, Vi. You just can't," His voice was steady, despite the turmoil inside of him. "I know this life isn't easy, and screwin' up in this profession sucks worse than anything else, but...

Soap felt his heartbeat begin to quicken when she rested her head against his shoulder. It pounded in his chest in a way that made breathing feel difficult, and in a way that made him have to calm himself down. His eyelashes fluttered as he closed his eyes, hues of orange and red still visible from behind his eyelids.

Such a simple, seemingly meaningless touch made his legs feel wobbly and had his stomach doing somersaults. He was so infatuated with Viper.

Her talent, her skills, her determination. Her eyes, her smile, and just...her. Soap could say without a shadow of a doubt that no one had meant this much to him in a long time...no one had meant this much to him ever.

Soap's gaze was fixed on her. Her eyes were filled with uncertainty, which was a stark contrast to the woman that he knew Viper to be. Seeing her so discouraged and so unsure of herself broke his heart.

"I want you to stay...I need you to stay." His plea hung in the air between them, a testament to the depth of his feelings for her.

She finally looked at him then. The flames of orange and red reflected in her eyes as she tuned into what he was telling her. If her day hadn't already been complicated and taxing on her emotions enough, he would've kissed her.

She wouldn't have minded that in the slightest. At first, Viper thought she was in trouble when she first noticed how she felt about Soap. She felt doomed at first because how could she ever be able to pursue him? He was supposed to be her mentor, despite the fact that he was only a few years older than her.

She was worried at first because she feared that she had fallen for someone who she could never have. How was she supposed to live like that?

But as time went on, she noticed that her affection wasn't one-sided. She caught Soap gazing at her from afar more than once. She didn't miss the way he had a feather-like touch whenever he adjusted the position of her hands on her weapon. She knew that all of Ghost's passing comments and jokes didn't come from nowhere.

And on more than one occasion, she had heard about how much he talked about her.

She knew how she felt about him, and she also knew how he felt about her. After tonight, she was pretty sure that he would have that all figured out as well.

He settled for touching her hand instead, his rough fingers brushing against her delicate hand -- skin that didn't have the hard work experience and hardships that he did. He held her hand in his, a showing of something that extended far past him seeing her as just the soldier he was supposed to train.

He was showing her that he loved her for the woman she was.

Soap knew that he sounded desperate. Mainly because he was desperate. Viper had become such a massive part of his everyday life in the last seven months. Trying to imagine not spending every day with her pained his heart.

After all, she had become the most important person to his heart.

"Okay," She said, her voice serene and smooth. "I'll stay."

Relief rushed his system because he felt like he had another chance. It would take time to rebuild her confidence and teach her to be patient with herself again. But it was a task he was more than willing to take on.

"On one condition." She added.

She cracked a small smile then, which was enough to ignite the fireworks that were ready to explode in his chest. He would do literally anything to keep her around.

"You name it." Soap grinned.

"We have to start practicing and training an extra hour every day." She said, and Soap almost laughed.

That was more than okay with him.

"Deal," He said. "If you're lucky, I might even tell ya why they call me Soap."

Her eyes lit up then, and he almost felt bad for teasing her like that.

Almost.

"Really?" She asked, shifting closer to him to where she was almost snuggled into his side.

She rested her head on his shoulder again, and this time he wrapped an arm around her to pull her closer.

"No." He smirked.

They shared a small laugh before falling into a comfortable silence, the kind that eased any kind of tension or anxiety. He was soaking in her presence, thankful that it wouldn't be last time he would ever get to enjoy it.

As soon as they were back and settled, he was asking her on a proper, real date. As much as he loved it, he figured that somewhere outside of the range was in order.

The two of them sat like that for a long time, basically until the last of the fire had burned out, and all that was left was ashes and smoke. When Soap shifted to stand, he realized that Viper didn't move.

When he craned his neck to look at her, she saw her eyes were closed and her breathing was slow and steady. She had fallen asleep on him.

He nearly exploded through the ceiling.

He had to contain himself and not wake her because he wanted her to get as much rest as she could. He was careful as he moved to scoop her up, hushing her when she stirred and made mid-slumber noises of discontent from being disturbed.

He carried her and whisked her from the living room, cutting through the kitchen to get to the bedroom to put her in bed. Ghost, who had been on watch this entire time, saw this encounter and couldn't help but smirk.

"I assume all went well?" Ghost asked, and he felt proud at the beaming smile on Soap's face.

"Yeah. You could say that."

[mlmxreader]

The Guilt of Leaving | John Soap MacTavish x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Soap with

82 "I just need a hug from you, specifically" ❞

: ̗̀➛ Soap leaves you at the worst time, and to make things even more difficult, he knows you're not even prepared for it.

: ̗̀➛ swearing, graphic depictions of fatal injuries & dead bodies, smoking, major character death, themes of suicide

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

When you first got the call, your heart dropped.

You screamed until your lungs gave out, cried until your head throbbed and pounded and snot was coating your face. You had always thought that he would be lucky, that he would never be the one to go.

That he would retire one day and you would live the rest of your lives trying to make up for all the time you had missed. You prayed, although you knew that it wouldn't save him. You asked the rabbi if there was a way, but they didn't answer. He wouldn't come back.

You stopped looking after yourself. The toothbrush was dry for months. The pile of dirty clothes piled up and up until you had nothing left to change into. You rarely ate, rarely slept. You stopped going out, stopped answering your phone, especially if any of his old friends called.

You always left the side door unlocked, hoping that he would walk through it. But he never did. He never would again.

Your boyfriend, your beloved Johnny, was dead.

Ever since that phone call, you had not been the same.

You never would be again, you and Johnny were… you had been together since you were teenagers. You were going to get married, you were going to have a family. You didn't even feel real anymore. Detached from everything, unsure if it was reality or if you were dreaming. A hazy state.

Constantly wondering if you should push yourself off of the top stair with your back facing them. Johnny was your everything. He was your best friend in the whole world. He was your boyfriend. He was your favourite person.

Now he wasn't even around to give you a soft kiss on the temple and tell you that it was all going to be alright. Nothing was the same anymore. You didn't smile when you saw old reruns of EastEnders and Waterloo Road on the television. You didn't feel excited to watch I'm A Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here!, you couldn't.

Those were things that you and Johnny watched together. You didn't even smoke the same kind of cigarettes anymore, constantly breaking apart and screaming his name when you saw his brand of tobacco on the kitchen counter. You couldn't cope anymore.

It was a dark, early morning, not even five hundred hours, when you went down to the kitchen. You didn't bother turning on the light as you went to the drawer and opened it, grabbing the long and sharp knife and taking a shaky breath.

You couldn't cope. You couldn't bring Johnny back as much as you wanted to, and you didn't know what to do without him. You had always been together. He was the one constant in your life.

You sat on the floor with your back against the cupboard, holding the tip of the knife against your wrist. You couldn't stand it anymore, you just wanted to see him again. You just wanted to be with him again.

You were about to do it, when the side door gently opened. The light turned on, and something stepped in.

He didn't look the same. His jaw was almost completely torn off, bits of his skull missing and exposing the ripped and shredded brain beneath. His eyes coated in a milky white; he took a few steps forward, lurching and jerking movements as he struggled to speak.

Black froth spewing from his bloodied and half missing lips. He babbled and gargled as he approached, crashing down onto his knees before you with a harsh crack, bones pushing through skin with ease as they snapped and forced the flesh to ripple.

With fuzzy grey fingers topped with black nails, he grabbed the knife, and threw it aside. More gargling and babbling. He stunk.

A sharp, distinct smell that sat uneasily against your nose and made you feel sick.

You didn't even think, lurching forward and hugging him tightly despite the sound of something cracking. “I don't care if this is real or not, I just need a hug from you, specifically.”

Johnny wanted to speak. He wanted to tell you that it was all going to be alright and that he was there, now, you had nothing to worry about. But he couldn't force what was left of his jaw back into place, and he supposed that the gaping and squelching hole in his throat probably didn't help, either.

Sighing as he resigned himself to letting you hold him. He wondered if you could feel how cold his flesh was, how his blood was congealed and clumpy. He wondered if you noticed that his heart wasn't beating. But then you pulled away, and he garbled as he did his best to speak.

“Oh, Johnny,” you whispered, sobbing. “I just wanna die…”

He shook his head, choking and static coming from his damaged throat.

“I don't know what to do without you,” you murmured. “And I don't know if you're real, but… but I love you, and I can't… I can't do this alone.”

Johnny wanted to reach out, he wanted to feel your warm skin against his and to know that everything would be fine; he felt terrible for leaving you so soon, he felt awful.

He knew that you would long for him forever and that your soul would forever be entwined with his; but he also knew that he couldn't come back. He was more than aware that he had to make you let him go, to let him rest.

But you wouldn't do that.

Johnny was smarter than that, he knew that after all the years you had been together, you would forever scream his name in your sleep; you would forever long for him to come home. Your soul would always tug on his.

He let out a quiet growl, spitting blood onto his thighs as he shook his head.

Johnny would never stop feeling the guilt of leaving you so soon, leaving you when you weren't ready whatsoever.

[erosdsire]

Task force 141 general headcanons

Including: Simon “Ghost” Riley, John “Soap” MacTavish, John Price

Features: some nsfw (MDNI)

— Simon “Ghost” Riley;

For his size, he’s as quiet as a mouse. Constantly unintentionally sneaking up on people. Scares the shit out of Soap when the large man is suddenly behind him barking orders in his deep voice

Actually really insecure about his scars. He thinks their burdens, that they’ll scare you. But you trace them softly with the tip of your nail, admiring the feel and sight of them, and he decides it’s not such a bad thing

Usually just grunts in response to things like “thank you” “sorry”, etc.

Needs reading glasses. Won’t take criticism on this.

Gift giving is his love language. The problem is he doesn’t know what to get you. Usually settles on a gift card after hours of thinking about it

Always gives to the guy during Christmas time that sits outside of businesses with the bell

Is indifferent on the topic of wanting kids. He doesn’t care either way. If you don’t want any, he’s happy to be with you. If you do want kids, he’s happy to build a family with you. As long as he’s with you and you’re happy.

Doesn’t propose in a big scene. He’s the type to just one day break the comfortable silence with “you wanna get married?” No ring ready. No big speech. Just a question.

Actually has a nice singing voice. Will sing you to sleep.

Is confused about modern technology even though this man is only in his like late 30s. But he will happily sit on call with you until you fall asleep

Roses. Likes all flowers. Giving and receiving. But LOVES roses.

— John “Soap” MacTavish;

Wants kids. He will respect your decision to not have any. But this man has always dreamed of having kids.

He thinks it’s funny to call to old fashioned pet names like “honey bunch” “darling” “my dear” etc.

An artist. Draws a bunch. Will absolutely ask to draw you naked. This man is so detailed at it too

If you do have kids he wants one of you to be a stay at home parent. He doesn’t care who. He just doesn’t want the kid to be without both of you for long periods of time

Also doesn’t wanna be away from you for long periods of time. If you’re civilian he makes sure to call you every chance he gets. Sometimes it’s only minutes apart from when he hung up last.

Cat person. Gentle as fuck. He’s a cat person.

He’s more of a slow sex kinda guy. Enjoys a good fuck every once and awhile but he feels like it should be more intimate with someone he loves. Quick fucks are for strangers in a bar.

— John Price;

Sleeps like a rock. Certain louder noises will wake him, but more so just startles him than actually wakes him.

Is into cock warming. Willing to fall asleep stuffed inside you. Willing to wake you up with it in the morning just to sit there all happy and blissed.

Doesn’t really understand video games. Man is so confused when you explain what Minecraft is. Even something as simple as a sandbox game has this dude scratching his head wondering what the fuck it is

KNOWS ITALIAN. he’s not fluent fluent. But he’s fluent enough

Speaking of other languages, he’ll call you pet names in other languages. Even if he doesn’t speak the language, he’ll find out what things like “baby” “darling” “my love” etc are in that language

[killingick]

Y/N: It’s about to blow up we’re too late

Soap: what like your career never did? I disarmed it bitch calm down

[thebookbutterfly]

fanfiction isn’t enough, I need to chew on him

[skyrigel]

Simon who just can't say no to you.

It has been like this from the moment his eyes met yours, a very terrible Monday morning if he hadn't met you but now that you remembered, it's the most beautiful day of both of your lives.

“Is that seat taken ?” Simon looked up at the small morning roused and still sleep laden voice, you were as knackered as you sounded, probably runnin’ on black coffee and cuppa noodles.

“Yeah.” He wasn't even aware how quickly he said it, “Yes, ofcourse miss.”

He scooted his big thighs together, trying to make as much space as possible for you and as if some divine thought struck him, he looked up — cheeks tinting with red.

“Would ya’ like window ?”

“No, But thankyou for asking.” You answered, sitting next to him and making sure to leave some space because those legs were thick and definitely his big cock needed some room.

Fuck, look away —

“Ghost...” Another man climbed inside bus, his eyes trained on you and your partner who's apparently Ghost ?!?!

“Wot ?” He said roughly, his shoulders pressed against yours

“Nothin’ old man.” The other man smirked and sat next to a Grandma who knitted half a sweater.

“Your friend?” You asked.

“ A little...Simon.” He said, “Simon Riley.”

“Oh.” You smiled, feeling blush creep up your neck and cheeks.“I like Ghost better.” you would've booed if you weren't feeling so tingly and nervy.

“You would like Simon more.”

“I would like that.” You couldn't believe you were flirting on a Monday morning.

One month later

“Ghost...” John horribly snorted, sprawling on couch as Simon paid him no attention.

“Wot ?” He asked, giving you his pinky as you painted the last letter ‘Y’ over hot pink nail polish, completing your H-E-L-L-O K-I-T-T-Y nail art, every letter on each nail.

“Nothin’ old man.” John smirked as you clicked your tongue, beaming up at Simon.

“Done !” You blew air and flashed a grin as Simon brought his hand up to examine your work.

“Done Luvie.” He smiled, bumping your nose with ‘I’ on his nail.

And you also liked Simon better.

Grim Reaper! Simon

Masterlist

[metallictastinglifesupportliquid]

Y/N, bursting into the room: Ghost! I need a favour! Ghost: I'm not giving you a lap dance again Price: *chokes* Gaz: A LAP DANCE?! Soap: AGAIN?!?

[daisies-daydreams]

I feel as tho soap would come to the nail salon with us and think he could handle the same length his s/o (xl nails) and he break his first nail in like 2 hrs of getting them

If It Ain't Broke (Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x F!Reader)

Pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x F!Reader Category: Fluff Warnings: Swearing, Teasing, Innuendo(s) Word Count: 1k+ A/N: Omg yes 🤭Thank you for the fun request and I hope you enjoy!

“Are you sure about this, dolly?” your boyfriend scrunched his nose as the two of you walked towards the local nail salon. You rolled your eyes and giggled. 

“C’mon Johnny - we both know who won that bet last night,” you winked. Your boyfriend bit the inside of his cheek as both of you walked inside. 

“Hi (Y/N)!” one of the technicians chirped and waved from their station. You smiled back, your arm slung around Johnny’s as you dragged him towards the front counter. 

“Oh, so this is the infamous Johnny you’re always talking about,” the receptionist said as her eyes scanned him up and down. Your boyfriend chuckled and raised a brow at you. 

“Infamous, eh?” he smirked and nudged your elbow. The tips of your ears burned a little as you laughed nervously. 

“Don’t worry - (Y/N)’s only said good things about you,” she said with a short pause. “And I can see why,” the receptionist added while nibbling on the end of her pen. Your brows furrowed a little as you felt a twinge of jealousy strike through your chest. 

“Anywho, I heard you lost a bet last night, Mr. Army Man,” she mused with a raised brow. Your expression softened as you giggled. 

“Yep! Good ol’ Johnny just couldn't handle it,” you winked at your chiseled lover. Johnny snorted as he glanced away. 

“What was the bet exactly?” the receptionist whispered, her eyes lit with curiosity. You could practically hear Johnny’s chest tightened as you bit your lip. 

“Well you see, he was wondering how long either of us could-” 

“That’ll do,” Johnny said with a tense smile as he wrapped his hand over your mouth. The receptionist pursed her lips before typing on her keyboard, her vibrant, acrylic nails clacking against the keys before she smiled. 

“Well, you’re in for a treat today, Johnny,” she said with a bubbly voice. Your boyfriend tensed as he lowered his hand from your lips. 

“Guess that's one way to put it,” he sighed. The two of you were soon brought back, Johnny’s boots thudding against the tiled floor as his steps grew stiff. 

“C’mon, Johnny. The sooner you get them on, the sooner you can take them off,” you lilted before you were seated. 

“What size are we doing today, (Y/N)?” the technician across from you, Kim, asked as she tilted her head. You purse your lips before shifting your gaze towards Johnny. A smirk crept onto your face before you hummed. 

“XL Stilettos for me, please,” you beamed. Your smirk remained as Johnny sat down beside you. “Just a small for him,” you leaned over and whispered loudly. “He couldn’t handle anything larger,” you giggled. Johnny straightened up in his chair as he puffed out his chest. 

“Now hold on a second,” he began. You hummed as you held your hands out towards Kim.

“What’s wrong, Johnny?” you cooed. Your lover shot you a wry grin as he stared you down. 

“You don’t think I can handle what you wear, hm?” he murmured while holding his hands out for the technician across from him. You tilted your head side to side. 

“Mmm…nope!” you said. He huffed and poked his tongue out beneath his cheek. 

“Alright, I see how it is,” Johnny said before clearing his throat. “I’ll have what she’s having,” he told his technician. The two workers exchanged glances before giggling. 

“If you say so,” his technician shrugged before getting to work. 

+++

“Well, that wasn’t as painful as I thought it would be!” Johnny said as he spread his fingers out and flicked his hands back and forth. You laughed. 

“It’s not like it’s a nail transplant,” you teased playfully and bumped his arm. Johnny chuckled as the two of you walked inside your shared flat. “I just can’t believe you drove home in those,” you snickered. Your lover raised his brows as he closed the door behind you. 

“Yeah?” he asked as he tried to untie his boots, only to curse as his nails kept slipping against his shoelaces. You sighed as you stooped down and gracefully slipped your fingers across his laces. Johnny blinked as you rose back up to your feet. “Thanks, dolly,” a small blanket of pink tinted his cheeks as he looked away. 

“No problem,” you winked before sashaying to the living room. Your boyfriend followed you before the two of you plopped down on the couch and turned on the match. You laughed as he clicked his nails against each other, his eyes utterly fixated on the glossy sheen on the acrylic nails. 

“Enjoying yourself?” you mused. Johnny blinked before he set his arm over your shoulder. 

“A little,” he confessed with a quiet chuckle. You laughed and snuggled into his side before turning your attention back to the match playing on TV. You sighed and closed your eyes while Johnny mindlessly stroked his fingers through your hair, his wide chest rising and falling steadily. 

“Been thinking about what we should do before I go back,” your lover said. Your heart sank a little at the thought of him leaving again. You understood what his career entailed, but you couldn’t help the worry that gnawed at your heart every time you watched him walk out your door. 

“Well, maybe we could-” your eyes widened when you heard a sudden snapping sound right next to your ear. Johnny’s breath hitched as he slowly pulled his hand away, the whites of his eyes nearly swallowing his irises whole. You instantly burst into laughter as he held up his palm: one of his nails snapped clean. 

“How in the hell?!” he howled with laughter while shaking his head. The room was filled with your combined chuckling, your sides growing sore as your eyes watered incessantly. 

“Oh my God,” you laughed while wiping your eyes. Johnny’s breathing eventually calmed down before he sighed. “Thank you, Johnny. I really needed that laugh today,” you giggled before pressing a kiss to his cheek. Your boyfriend’s eyes lit up as his smile softened. 

“No problem, dolly,” he chuckled before pecking your lips. 

____

Thank you for reading! 🩷

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[mrsparrasblog]

Self defense with Simon

But imagine being Johnny's girlfriend who is unable to fight, and Soap is always afraid that something will happen to you. So he tries to teach you hand-to-hand combat, but it either ends up with sex or he is afraid to hurt you.

So he asks his best mate, Ghost, for help. Ghost, of course, agrees, and soon you are in the training hall with your boyfriend, getting thrown around like a rag doll by his best friend. He has you pinned under him, over his shoulder, you are in his headlock, and lastly, you are under him as he tries to teach you how to get away from being choked.

Well, he didn’t think you’d let out a moan, and Ghost, who was just a starved animal in need of something sweet, went feral, trying everything to get you to mewl again.

Your yoga pants already had a wet stain from your arousal as he finally ripped them off and pushed his way-too-big dick inside your pleading hole while Johnny stroked himself on a chair next to you, "Told ya, bonnie, if a bad man comes, he does that to you."

"Just trying to teach you how to get out of it, luv."

Behind closed doors, Gaz and Price were stroking themselves as they watched you getting manhandled and fucked by Ghost.

-------------

"Good news, bonnie, Price and Gaz want to train with you too."

[ghostandsoap]

John "Soap" MacTavish

☾ - smut (MDI !!!!)

☆ - my personal favorites

My ao3: @allikatt9

One shots

Fem! Reader

Sitting with a Show ☾ - Soap watches his soccer game...but you would rather him watch you.

Fem! "Viper" Reader ("Viper" is the call sign of the reader...reader's real name is up to you!)

Stay - After an almost failed mission, Viper debates leaving Force 141.

[chaosandmarigolds]

“No, no no, baby-baby let mama talk-“ much to your dismay your toddler already took off with the tablet down the hall with your husband on face time. With a disgruntled huff you walk down the hall and move to open the door only to falter for a moment as you hear your husbands voice.

“Takin’ care of your mum, bubs?”

“Des sir.”

“Why you runnin’ from her then?”

“Caasaaus I wanna talk to you and when mummy starts to talk to you she doesn’t share.”

A gruff laugh, “Alright alright, well what do you wanna talk about then, lad?”

You stand outside the door for a solid ten minutes before you knocked on the door and moved your son to your lap to smile down at your husband.

“Hey, honey.”

“Hey, hot stuff.”

You see him roll his eyes and you bite back a smile.

“Lad told me you’re not sharin enough.”

You playfully gasp, which triggered your sons giddy laughter, “No! Really??”

“Really!”

[mlmxreader]

Loyalty Is Weakness | John Soap MacTavish x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Could I request "That quick tongue of yours is gonna get us into shit" with Soap please? ❞

: ̗̀➛ loyalty is a terrible thing, a fatal thing.

: ̗̀➛ MCD/Major Character Death, swearing, gore and blood, war crimes (mentioned)

↳ @mockerycrow @seigwaidau

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

You and Soap did everything you could to be close to one another. From the years back in secondary school, you had always been unnaturally close. Practically sitting on each other's laps during science lessons, always touching one way or another even when you weren't supposed to be.

You could never be far from one another. When teachers forced you to sit on opposite sides of the room, you and Soap would throw paper aeroplanes at each other and constantly pass notes; you could never be torn apart.

Soap had your loyalty, and he knew it. You would follow him to the very ends of the earth and into the very fires of Hell, if it meant being near him; you even followed him into war.

You followed him into war like the loyal dog that you were, and although you knew that you had his loyalty all the same, it didn't stop the banter; they called you a dog, Soap's lapdog.

You did anything he said without question, but always questioned everyone else; they didn't hold your loyalty the way that Soap did. You were utterly loyal to each other, and everyone knew it. You did not fight for a country, you did not fight for politics, you did not fight for money, you did not fight for a king - you fought for Soap.

You would only ever fight for Soap.

You would not fight for anything else, as nothing else held as much worth to you. But that didn't stop their promises; they said you would be fighting for glory, that you would be fighting for freedom and justice. You never saw any of that.

Where was the glory in killing civilians?

Where was the glory in bombing houses?

Where was the freedom in forcing prisoners of war to lie naked?

Where was the freedom in stealing babes from their mothers' bosoms?

Where was the justice in slaughtering the elderly?

Where was the justice in using toxic gas?

It was all bullshit... but you couldn't leave Soap. He had your loyalty, and he would keep it no matter the circumstances. Your loyalty only lied with Soap.

The things you did would never leave you.

The screams still curdling in your ears loudly whenever everything went quiet; the sight of blood dripping from your hands still sticky and wet whenever you didn't wear gloves. The smell of human shit and piss constant whenever you weren't smoking; the taste of copper and sand on your tongue whenever you left it more than an hour without smoking.

Price made you do most of it, always laughing as he said to "bring the dog in". Ghost would humiliate them before you got to them, and it took everything in you not to cry. You would always end up sobbing with your back against the wall at the end of every day; but you had to stay with Soap.

You had to protect him, you had to keep him alive - you had to stay with him. Your loyalty lied with him, and such a loyalty was not easily broken. What Price and Ghost did, and what they made you do, was not war, though.

It was not warfare. It was cruelty, in its purest form, and you would never be able to forget it. No matter how much you scrubbed your hands and screamed at their ghosts that you were sorry.

Your loyalty lied with Soap, you would do anything for him.

You did your best as you pinned him underneath you and shot at them; swallowing thickly as you aimed for their feet and hoped that they would jump back. That they would realise that you did not want to kill.

You never realised that there was a gap in the rock by Soap's head, and that it was big enough for a single, lucky shot.

You didn't even realise until you felt it yourself, a sharp sting in your chest as you fell onto your back, gasping for breath harshly; you could feel something wet spreading across your body, and grabbed Soap, yanking him over and wondering why he was limp. But then you saw it.

His wide, open grey eye. His slack jaw. The jagged and open gaping wound in the side of his face; it trailed from his forehead, all the way down to his lip. Still spurting out blood as his brain matter seeped through the crack in his skull, dripping onto your face. The bones in his face shattered and exploded out the back of his head, leaving half of him open and exposed.

You shook your head, swallowing thickly.

"That quick tongue of yours is gonna get us into shit," you had told him hours before. "Why'd you fucking call Ghost a twat faced sausage roll?"

"It was funny!" Soap had snapped with a laugh.

Your stomach sank as you realised. You would never hear his laugh again. You could never feel his lips on yours again, nor could you ever feel his hands holding yours as he danced with you to Sabaton songs.

You would never have a future, but as everything started to grow darker, you realised that maybe it was all a terrible dream.

More shots rang out as you leaned your head back, convinced it wasn't real; even when you felt Soap's body above you shaking and jumping as the bullets entered his back, neck, and what was left of the back of his head to make sure he was dead. His blood mixing with your own on your chest; you had always been loyal to him.

Your reward for such undying loyalty, was to be comforted by dying together.

[yawnderu]

cw: creampie, threesome, deepthroat, hybrid!cat!reader

“Hell's fuckin' bells.” Johnny grunts out, his rough hold on your hips tightening up as his hips slam against your ass, your tail wrapped around his meaty, hairy thigh.

He loves your flexible body— how easily he can force you to arch your back, keeping your soft ass up as he pounds into you, his cock getting harder with each thrust, pushing your mouth down on Simon's thick, needy length.

Your hands come up to Simon's stomach, nails slowly digging into the scarred skin as you knead the thin layer of fat, unable to tell them how good you're feeling as Simon pushes your head down on his cock, deep moans leaving his lips.

“Needy fuckin' thing.” His head is thrown back as he feels your sharp nails digging into his stomach, the purrs leaving your throat send vibrations to his already sensitive cock, making it harder and harder to hold it in.

He can feel his muscles tensing up, thrusting into your slutty mouth a few times before he's emptying his balls down your throat with a low grunt, spurts of hot cum going right into your needy mouth. Johnny's hand is quick to wrap on your hair and pull you closer to him,

“Show the LT how much of a dirty slag ye are.” He groans out, voice husky with raw desire. Johnny's free hand goes to hold your jaw, forcing you to look at Simon while he rams into you at an unlawful pace, using your cunt as a fleshlight.

Simon stares back into your eyes, his brown eyes holding a mix of possessiveness and arousal. He can see the desperation in your eyes— the need for more, and it only fuels his own desire. He signals Johnny to let go of his rough hold, easily pulling you back into his burly arms, his warm hand scratching the back of your ear tenderly, a complete contract to the way Johnny is fucking into you from behind.

“Filthy little animal.” He whispers, his breath hot against your ear. Johnny's thrusts become more forceful, his hips slamming against your plush ass with unrestrained force, leaving both of you gasping for air.

It doesn't take long for you to cum, Simon's demeaning words and Johnny's rough fucking mixing together, making your brain hazier than ever. He continues to thrust into you relentlessly, riding out the waves of your climax before he reaches his. With a powerful, deep thrust, he shoots ropes of hot cum inside you, his hips grinding against yours as he marks you as his own.

[forsworned]

You know what would be absolutely hilarious? If Y/n was very androgynous-looking. Like maybe she has short cropped hair, doesn't speak much, wears no make up, mostly male clothing and binds her chest so that she doesn't have to worry about her boobs getting in the way? And she's still getting pretty acclimated to the team, but when they all wake up early on laundry day and everyone is gathering their clothes to put into the washer Johnny's dumb ass zones in on the pink frilly bra that somehow ends up in Simon's hamper.

"Oh, Simon, didn’t know ye liked keepin’ wee mementos!" He taunts holding the undergarment and obnoxiously raising his brows at him in a suggestive manner.

And so Kyle and Price join in on the teasing. Price whistles at Simon's disgruntled look.

"Never pegged you for a magpie, mate. A bra, really?" Kyle ribs.

"I’ll tell you what, Simon, if I were you, I’d keep that under wraps. Can’t be good for your street cred, mate." Price adds on, causing everyone to laugh. Everyone BUT Y/n who silently snatches the bra out of Johnny's hand and adds it to her hamper.

"Aw, come on! We’re just havin’ a bleedin’ laugh." Johnny pouts, as his eyes following her form to the laundry room just a few feet away.

But everyone's jaw (except for Simon's) literally drops as they watch her put all her girly, frilly panties into the washer. And it's just quiet for like a whole five minutes ESPECIALLY because Simon knows he's getting the last laugh. Unfortunately it's a bit at Y/n's expense, but she's also relishing in the fact that they all look like total idiots.