#john soap mactavish angst

[soapppp]

Soap is alright with Gaz making fun of him for his puppy like behaviour. He’s okay with Price calling him a mutt when he gets dirty paw prints all over the base hallways. He’s more than happy to obey when Ghsot whistles at him to sit or lay or move. Soap knows that werewolves are, at heart, dogs. They play, they chew up couches, they whine and argue with yippy barks, they make a mess with their thick fur and drool in their sleep. Try as he might to hate it, Soap knows that it’s natural for him to want to chase the large blue ball Gaz rolls down the hall way. He doesn’t care that he once broke his tail from wagging it so hard when he stole Price’s hat and made the older man chase him around the base.

But then….

It was a simple mission, something they had all done a hundred times over. Only this time, Soap was without his captain and his fellow Sargent and his collar felt too lose without Ghost pulling it around. Soap was fine with that, until he found himself working with a Lieutenant Manes. The man was alright, a good leader and quick thinker, but even upon meeting him Soap had a bad feeling.

The man didn’t tug at his collar like Ghost did, instead he pulled at Soap’s chin hair and growled at him to “stay the fuck down you overgrown dog”. He let out loud whistles and expected Soap to know what they meant, pushing him down by his snout when he hesitated as he tried to get a grasp on what he was asking. Manes threw a Grenade at some point and pinched Soaps ear, “that’s a grenade, mutt. Not a fucking toy, don’t chance it.” Soap had wanted to snap back that he was a demolition expert and knew the dangers of a grenade better than Manes, but as he realised the man was mocking him for a dogs love of playing fetch…

Soap came home from the mission and instantly Price was taking him out back and letting him shift into his smaller form, cupping his maw and patting his ears. Apparently another member of the 141, a goddamn rookie, had sent word to Price on the way back from the mission of how Manes had been treating their star wolf. Price let him sleep in his office that night, curled up at his feet while Gaz brushed his fur.

He didn’t ask where Ghost was, already knowing the answer.

[gogh-with-the-flow]

Part 4 of cheating!Soap. Simon's POV. Angst. Potentially ooc Simon.

---

Simon Riley is a bad man. He wasn't given much of a choice really. He was dealt a bad hand that kept getting worse and worse. He tried to live a good life, despite his childhood, but it was all taken away from him in fire and blood. So he threw himself into it headfirst. He dove into it and found comfort in the fire and blood. He knew fire and blood. He's good at fire and blood.

Simon Riley is a lonely man. All his life, he's never had anyone. He keeps everyone he meets at arms-length at a minimum. He doesn't do love. He doesn't believe in it. The last time he tasted it was from his mother, and that taste has long since been replaced by the tinny taste of blood. He's comfortable being alone. He fills his time with work, and on the rare occasion he's sent back home to his barren flat in Manchester, the most he does is find a quick fuck at a pub.

He doesn't care about their names, he doesn't particularly care if they're a man or woman or something in between. He doesn't care what they look like, he hardly looks at them at all. They're just a means to an end for him. Just a warm hole to stuff himself into to feel good for a bit, to make his head quiet for a bit. He leaves once he's done. He never stays the night, never even stays much longer than to tie off his condom and pull his trousers back up.

It all changed when he met that damned spitfire of a man John MacTavish. Goes by the name 'Soap'. A ridiculous nickname in Simon's opinion, but then again, he goes by Ghost, so he doesn't have much room to talk.

Soap is loud and brash, but he can be careful and focused, too. He's intensely loyal and has a deep sense of justice. He fights for what's right, Ghost has seen it. He makes the icy shell around Ghost's heart melt, ever so slightly.

It's a slow progression, the way Soap draws Ghost into his orbit. Ghost doesn't even fully realize its happened until Las Almas. There was a moment when he thought he lost Johnny- when did Soap become Johnny? They had gotten separated and Ghost waited for him. Ghost never waited. But he couldn't, in that moment, hiding out in a church with a whole militia after him, even fathom leaving Johnny behind.

By the time Simon realized he loved Johnny it was too late. Johnny was married. Simon hadn't noticed that when he read Soap's dossier years ago. It must have happened in the time they had known each other. Simon had never pinned Johnny as someone to keep his cards so close to his chest like that, but he was proved wrong.

Johnny didn't wear his ring in the field. It was a liability, not just to have jewelry on in life-or-death situations, but also for anyone to see he was married, be it friend or foe. He didn't find out until after Chicago. It seemed that Soap's near-death experience at the top of a skyscraper had shaken him more than he'd let on. He'd snuck off at the bar to use the payphone and Ghost had followed.

"Hey, its me... Just needed to hear your voice, bonnie... No, no, I'm alright, just a wee bit banged up... Yeah, I miss you too, lovie... No I promise I'm alright. Just got a bit worried the whole 'til death do us part' thing was comin' sooner than expected... Sorry, bonnie... No, no, you're right, it's not funny. I'm sorry... I'll be home in a few days... Yeah... I'll see you then. I love you."

Simon hated you. He hated you and he didn't even know you. He didn't even know you existed and he hated you. Who were you? Some civilian? Some random woman who decided to shack up with Johnny? Probably just chasing valor or benefits or something. What could you possibly have to offer someone like Johnny? You could never understand him the way Simon does. Their bond is forged in fire and blood. You could never hope to understand it. They'd been through hell together. And yet you've wormed your way in between them. You, a woman he doesn't even know, have ruined everything. But Simon, ever the stoic sentinel, keeps it all under wraps with practiced patience. He didn't survive this long by letting his emotions control him. He'll figure out a way to fix this.

Then several months later, Simon meets you. It's after another mission, and you're picking up Soap from base, who had gotten a mild concussion and couldn't drive himself. You're there, waiting for him with a lovesick smile on your face. Simon watches as you embrace Johnny, wrapping him in your arms and holding him for a long time. Too long, in Simon's opinion. And then you pull back and hold Soap's head in your hands, turning his face side to side to get a better look at him. You laugh at something he says. Simon sneers. Oh, aren't you just perfect? A sweet little doting wife?

And then Johnny brings you over to introduce you two. You shake Simon's hand with both of yours, gratitude broadcast to the world as you thank him for getting your Johnny home safe. Your Johnny. Simon hates it. He hates how sincere you are. He wishes you were something worse, something worth hating. But Ghost reads people. He's great at it. But he can't read anything but genuine in you. And it makes him hate you more.

It isn't fair, Simon thinks. You don't deserve someone like Johnny. You haven't earned him. You haven't fought for him like Simon has. You haven't fought alongside him like Simon has. Simon has suffered. His whole life has been nothing but blood and fire. Doesn't he deserve something good for once? Hasn't he earned it? Even the devil himself got to taste heaven before he fell to earth.

That's what he tells himself on that night. The night they were stuck in that frozen safe house in the middle of Bumfuck, Russia. They'd narrowly escaped the enemy, and they didn't dare poke their heads out for risk of being spotted. Soap's radio had broken in the escape. Ghost was the only one with a means to communicate with Watcher. She tells him exfil will be there in the morning. He unplugs his radio. He tells Soap he can't get through. He tells himself that he's justified. He's a devil seeking a taste of heaven.

And what is Johnny if not heaven? Simon needs him. He needs to taste him. Johnny is worried. Simon can feel it rolling off him in waves. Simon can make it all better for him. Just for tonight.

"Who knows when exfil's gonna get here?" He asks. "What do we have to lose? It's just for tonight. Just let me take care of you, Johnny."

Simon can feel the hesitation in Johnny's body when he kisses him. But Johnny let's Simon lay him down. Simon whispers words into Johnny's ear. Not quite words of reassurance. But Simon Riley is a bad man, and a lonely man, and those two things make a nasty combination.

Simon tastes every part of Johnny's body he can get his mouth on. Neither man has bathed in days, and a lesser man would be disgusted, but Simon has experienced far worse. Besides, nothing about Johnny could ever disgust him.

And when Johnny let's him inside, Simon, that devil, finally tastes his slice of heaven. A whole life of suffering was worth is just to feel Johnny beneath him. It's perfect, he thinks. Even if only for the night. Simon looks Johnny in the eye. Simon stays with him afterward. Simon sleeps beside him.

Then morning comes. Exfil comes. Regret comes for Johnny, but not for Simon. Maybe he shouldn't had lied about his radio, but it was worth it, wasn't it? But now Johnny won't look at him. He won't speak to him. He practically runs from him when they land.

No, no, no. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. This was supposed to fix things! It was supposed to fix what you had ruined! You, Soap's perfect wife with your perfect life, perfectly ruining Simon's. Johnny was supposed to see that he needed Simon more. Johnny was supposed to see that he needed Simon as much as Simon needed him. What happened? What went wrong? Simon blames you. He always blames you.

Simon calls Johnny late that night, after he's sure you must be in bed. He pleads with Johnny to come to his senses. It wasn't a mistake! How could he say that? How could he say that it was wrong when Simon had never felt so right in his whole life? It's your fault. You've got Johnny trapped under some kind of spell. You can't love him like Simon could, like Simon does. Simon changes tactics.

"You have to tell her," Simon tells him. Maybe if you know, you'll leave. Then Simon can have Johnny all to himself, without you getting in the way again. "The guilt will eat you up, it's better if you just tell her. Its the right thing to do." Johnny reluctantly agrees.

Simon waits for Johnny to call him the next night, to tell him you've kicked him out. He waits for the call so he can swoop in and be Johnny's rescuer. Maybe then Johnny will see how much he loves him. But Johnny never calls. Simon would be tearing his hair out with anxiety if it wasn't so close-cropped to his head. What's happened to him? He hasn't lost control of his emotions like this in years. What have you done to him?

Simon drives to Johnny's house. He watches from the curb through your window. Johnny's alone. Good. He has half a mind to walk up to the door when he sees you come around the corner. He watches you two talk. He watches you cry. Crocodile tears, they must be! Poor you, having your perfect life be derailed. Simon was justified. It's only fair that you suffer even a fraction that he has so he can take some of your perfect life for his own.

But then Johnny is holding you. Johnny is kissing you. No, no this isn't right! You should be screaming at him to leave! You should be beating Soap to a pulp so Simon can put him back together! Why won't you let him have this?

He watches Johnny carry you away. He forces himself to drive away before he does something he'll regret. He speeds the whole way home. He turns his apartment upside-down. In the back of his mind he's thankful he lives in a shit part of town where no one calls the cops unless someone is actually dead. No noise complaints as he shatters every mirror.

It's your fault he's losing control. You you would just let him have Johnny, it would all be fine. But you, you selfish bitch, want to keep Johnny all to yourself. Why? Because you've got a ring? Because you made a vow? Well, Simon makes a vow to himself. No matter how long it takes, he will make Johnny his.

[personwhowrites]

Christmas at was supposed to be a holiday for ‘love and family’, but what if you didn’t have ether?

Ghost, no Simon understood that. Kyle and Price had headed ‘home’ to their ‘families’ or that’s what they told each other. Yet, here stood a lonely man known as ‘Ghost’ looking over the cliff where they poured Soa—Johnny’s ashes. His Johnny. The smell of the cigar started to linger in the air, Ghost was not one to smoke. Yet, here now stood Simon a man that does smoke. The Ghost persona off as he stared at the water bellow, crashing into rocks. Distant footprints now disappearing as soon snow started to fall and cover the memories of laughter, jokes and love. Simon taking his mask into his hands, he stared at it and pondered if he would be making the right choice.

The sound of snow crunching caught his attention. He turned to his left, there he saw him. Johnny. Simon felt conflicted unsure if his lonely mind is playing tricks on him once more, or if he finally lost his sanity. The cigar now long forgotten on the ground, Simon saw Johnny walking to him then place his ice cold hands on his face. There was silence until Simon blinked and Johnny was gone. Only to feel his own hands touching his cheek, there he knew it was time.

The only thing that truly remained on that cliff was Johnny’s urn and the classic Ghost mask. Ghost wouldn’t be the one getting revenge for Soap.

Simon, would be the one getting revenge for his Johnny.

[savemefromanepicoftimewasted]

Sometimes Change Can Be Better

John "Soap" MacTavish X Reader Platonic!Task Force 141 X Reader

Internally you rolled your eyes, this was either some ploy for you and Johnny to get closer which didn’t sound like a bad time. However there was also the idea that maybe Johnny didn’t have the best intentions which worried you. The only way to find out was to throw caution to the wind and simply try.

a/n:this fic was brought on by an idea that @gaylemonshark and I had, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

You and Marc had been the best of friends since childhood, you were the first person he opened up to when it came to his DID. His parents were completely unaware of the struggles he dealt with, from blaming himself for his brother's death, to his mothers abuse. He had told you first when he signed up for the army, shocked that you had beaten him to it. Your parents had been disappointed, angry that you were willingly putting yourself into danger. You didn’t want to admit it was because of Marc, that you’d heard whispers of what he planned to do. It had been a long and grueling few years, testing your limits every single day. Marc was the only reason you’d managed to stay alive as long, keeping you safe.

So when he got dishonorably discharged you followed suit, leaving your life behind to join Marc in where his adventure led him next. And then you’d been shot and left for dead, watching Marc crawl into the tomb your team had been raiding. No one had known that they were living their last few minutes, shot execution style. Except for you and Marc, for some reason they’d assumed you would die and left before you could say otherwise. A strange light seemed to glow from inside the tomb, causing you to shut your eyes tight. Marc had come running out moments later, pressing his hands against the wound.

“You’re gonna be alright sweetheart, I promise.” And Marc, true to his word, made sure you survived the night.

He’d told you all about Khonshu, the Egyptian god that had given him the ceremonial robes so he could help keep people safe. He’d done everything he could to make sure no harm ever came to you, of course after taking care of a few loose ends. It lessened the guilt he felt after dropping you off in London, saying that he couldn’t risk your life anymore. It had hurt to be left behind, you’d given up your entire life for him, and this was the thanks you got? Of course he had never asked you to do that, but you didn’t have anyone else in your life.

And then one day he simply showed back up, bag thrown over his shoulder and a poor excuse as to why he’d suddenly come back. You wanted to slam the door in his face, to tell him that you wanted nothing to do with him. Except you couldn’t do that, not to someone that had been your friend for so long. So you invited him in and made him a cup of coffee. He admitted to everything, getting married to a woman named Layla, getting divorced from said woman. You were more upset that you hadn’t been invited to the wedding than the fact he’d gotten married.

There were never romantic feelings between the two of you, something you were a little thankful for considering that could end a friendship faster than anything. Marc on the other hand would scare away any romantic partner that tried to get close to you. It became very annoying after the first few times, especially when you wanted nothing more than for someone to warm your bed for the night. You’d all but kicked him out for the night, demanding to be left alone until you called him in the morning. Marc had showed up nearly four hours after you called, more annoyed than anything.

“Now you know how it feels! I’m not a kid Marc, you don’t need to worry about me at every turn and corner.” You didn’t want him to keep hovering, it was becoming tiresome.

“I’m going to worry about you anyway, you’re my best friend.” Marc patted your shoulder gently, heading over to make himself a cup of coffee.

You opened your mouth to make a retort, that even though the two of you were the best of friends that you needed space sometimes. However a bright light encompassed your entire apartment, bathing the space in a warmth that seemed to sink into your bones. It was the sudden pull that worried you, what the hell was going on?

“Marc?!” Your panicked scream caught his attention, turning around and shielding his eyes from the light.

“Y/N!” Marc reached towards you, body pulling into what felt like a black hole.

Your body was thrown around, struggling to slow down as you hurtled toward somewhere completely foreign. The ground came hurtling towards you faster than you’d been expecting, throwing your arms out to try and stop yourself from slamming against the hard wood. Unfortunately it did little to soften the blow, pain radiated throughout your entire body as you lay gasping for air. After a few excruciating moments you had finally been able to catch your breath, pushing up and off the floor slowly.

A gun pressed itself against the back of your head, an imposing form stood ramrod straight and waiting to see what explanation you would be able to give.

“I know this is going to sound insane, but I’m pretty sure I just got transported from my universe.” Sure there were Norse gods and even Egyptian gods that roamed the streets in your world, but this wasn’t home.

“You really think I’m dumb enough to believe that?” The gun pressed closer, digging into your skin as the person stepped closer.

“I swear! I was in my apartment with a friend of mine when this big ball of light came out of nowhere.” God you really did sound insane, they definitely weren’t going to believe you now.

You waited with baited breath for the safety to turn off, but no such noise happened. Instead the person behind you lowered the gun, stepping away from you slowly. You didn’t so much as relax your breathing, keeping your eyes focused on the wall in front of you. It was better to assume the worst than believe that everything would be alright.

“You’re coming with me.” A hand wrapped around your bicep, all but dragging you out of the room and into what looked like a living room.

Holy shit, had you managed to land yourself in someone’s apartment? Oh shit you were definitely not going to make it out alive now. Would Marc be able to find you before they did unspeakable things to your body?

“You were right, Price, something did happen.” The man shoved you towards a kitchen table.

Three men sat around the table, sending a nervous shiver down your spine as you took them all in slowly. The one closest to you could damn well be a model, you were half tempted to ask him if he was. The man in the middle had a look about him that screamed dad. Was he the dad of the group? The man on the left of him, to your right,  definitely had you feeling a little more tongue tied. He had a rugged look about him that screamed “I’ve definitely seen some shit, but I can also make you laugh”. Definitely the cutest out of the three that you could see, considering your captor(?)was wearing a balaclava.

“What’s your name sweetheart?” Dad had leaned forward, hands clasped atop of the table.

“Y/N, sir.” Why did you feel the need to be so formal with him? Or with any of the men for that matter.

“Can you tell us exactly how you got here?” You nodded, pulling out the chair closest to you before sitting down.

You left out some of the less than pleasant details, only letting them know that you’d had a small argument with a friend before you suddenly found yourself here. To anyone that hadn’t witnessed what you had, they would’ve thought you were insane for sure. For someone like you it was normal, watching people from different universes land right in front of you. Hell, you had been snapped from existence for five years because of some purple alien. That was a horrible time, but after finding out that Marc had been snapped too you felt a little better.

“Have to admit, it’s pretty insane, but there’s stuff we just can’t explain.” It sounded like a poor excuse, but you’d told them all you could.

It helped ease your mind for a moment, if they believed that you hadn’t somehow snuck in to cause issues then surely everything would be alright. Hopefully Marc wasn’t getting himself into too much trouble.

_______

It felt strange being around the team, but at the same time you’d grown quite close to the group of men. You and Gaz had become nearly inseparable after meeting, playing harmless pranks on the other guys. It was kind of nice to not have any worries for a little while, even if the time was slowly taunting you. It had been nearly six months since you’d arrived and there was no guarantee that you would be leaving at all.

On one hand you didn’t want to, these people were some of the best you’d met in your entire life. Being a veteran helped get you into their good graces a little quicker, you had told them about your own past, the things you’d bared witness too. It was simply a natural thing for you, once you felt comfortable with someone new you’d bare your soul. The group had offered to head out to a pub for a night out, and who were you to object?

However you’d forgotten how much of a lightweight you were, and after only two drinks and three shots in you were definitely drunk.

“I’m telling ya! There’s a correlation between daddy issues and wanting to be bear hugged.” Your filter had slipped away completely, leaving you vulnerable to your own words.

“And why do ya say that?” Soap was more confused than anything by your statement.

“My dad was super emotionally absent, never told me he was proud of me, never told me he loved me, and was overall really sucky.” You normally never talked about your parents, considering neither of them were very supportive.

It hadn’t bothered you as often anymore, considering the fact that you’d slowly started to accept the fact that you’d be on your own. They were angry when you decided to stay in London, even after Marc stopped speaking to you. You wanted to visit for the holidays, but with how standoffish they’d become it was better to avoid them altogether. Sometimes a family you make is better than a family you have.

“Well, why don’t we test the theory?” Price stood up from the booth, smiling when you all but threw yourself over Soap’s lap.

“Yes please!” You threw your arms around his waist, relishing in the way his arms tightened around you.

Hugging Price felt like coming inside after a cold winter day to a bowl of warm soup, the first rays of sunshine after a rainstorm. It truly was something that you couldn’t fully explain, but it slowly warmed your heart. Even though he didn’t have any children of his own just yet, Price definitely gave a warm dad hug.

“I could fall asleep standing here if you let me.” You laughed into his chest, the soft scent of his cologne wrapping around you.

“As much as I’m sure you’d like to do that, we are standing in people’s way.” John was the first to let go, patting your shoulder gently.

“Thank you, it means more than you’d think.” You squeezed him one last time, sliding back into the booth beside Johnny.

The conversation seemed to flow to a lighter topic, leaving you feeling both comforted and happy that you could really open up. Kyle and Simon were talking about the different sights they’d see during missions, how they wished they sometimes could take photos as keepsakes. You knew how dangerous memories could be, if the wrong person found out where you’d been on a certain day it could end in death for you, or someone close to you. So instead you kept everything to memory,

Sunrises when you’d spent the entire night trying to run from the enemy, sunsets alongside Marc who was doing his best to ruin your day. Life hadn’t turned out the way you’d expected, nothing ever truly did, but this was a nice change of pace. You were surrounded by people who wanted you there, who laughed at the terrible jokes you made, who brought your spirits up when you were upset. It made you miss Marc at times, considering how long you’d known one another, but he wasn’t here.

Johnny leaned back in his spot, casually stretching and laying his arm across the booth along your back. You knew exactly what he was trying to do, it was something you’d seen in countless movies, and dealt with time and time again before. You didn’t say anything though, waiting to see if Johnny would work up the courage. Your prayers were answered as his arm slid down, warm skin pressing against your own as his fingers rested against your shoulder. Simon was the first to notice what was going on, a smirk pulling at his lips. He wouldn’t draw anymore attention, knowing it could ruin an otherwise sweet moment.

“Why don’t we get something to eat, soak up some of the liquor our dear friend has been drinking?” John slid out of the booth, pulling Simon with him to go put the order in at the bar.

“I’m gonna help em, lord knows they’ll end up dropping all the damn plates.” Kyle rolled his eyes, sliding out and following behind the other two men.

Internally you rolled your eyes, this was either some ploy for you and Johnny to get closer which didn’t sound like a bad time. However there was also the idea that maybe Johnny didn’t have the best intentions which worried you. The only way to find out was to throw caution to the wind and simply try.

“Looks like they abandon us, how rude.” His tone was teasing and playful, but with his lips being so close to your ear it sent a shudder down your spine.

“Well I think you’re correct, quite rude of them indeed.” You turned your head, eyes locking onto his.

His eyes were like deep blue pools, and you felt that you would get lost in them if given the chance. Had he always been this beautiful, or was your mind suddenly clear enough to see what was truly in front of you? Your eyes flicked to his lips and back up, when had your mouth suddenly become so dry? Johnny didn’t give you another moment to debate before pulling you flush to his side, his left arm wrapping around your waist. The other three hadn’t come back yet and you were grateful, nothing worse than having your kiss ruined.

“Johnny, please.” Your voice was breathy, hand sliding up his chest.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He smiled before pressing his lips to yours so softly, you weren’t sure if you’d ascended to the heavens or not.

Your lips moved together methodically, the stubble lining his chin burned so pleasantly. He groaned into the kiss, hands gripping your waist tighter. Someone clearing their throat loudly caused the two of you to pull apart, you couldn’t hide the embarrassment on your face. Johnny of course was as confident as ever, hiding your face in his side to protect you.

“We come bearing food, so if you wouldn’t mind not acting like teenagers that would be wonderful.” Kyle set down two plates along with Simon and John setting down the other five.

“Sorry, got a little distracted.” You playfully slapped Johnny’s chest, straightening yourself up and fixing your hair to be more presentable.

“We know, you have some lipstick leftover.” Johnny reached up to wipe off his lips, noticing that Kyle wasn’t lying.

“They said it was transfer proof, damnit.” You’d gone shopping earlier that day, wanting to get a few more personal things since you were still stuck here.

“Don’t believe those, had plenty of girls kiss me and leave their mark.” Kyle was confident, and for good reason, so you weren’t surprised he’d pulled many ladies before.

John shut down any more comments and instructed everyone to dig in before the food started to get cold. You grabbed the mozzarella sticks right away, laughing when Simon gave you a shocked expression. Who didn’t love fried cheese? It was downright delicious. You gladly handed over a few of them in exchange for some of the fries he had. The food hit the spot, soaking up your drinks and sobering you up ever so slightly. You were definitely still tipsy, but nothing like before.

The rest of the night was filled with stories and laughter, putting you on the spot to tell an embarrassing story as everyone else had done so. You told a story about you walking in on Marc and his girlfriend at the time doing the hanky panky. It was a story you and Marc joked about constantly, mainly because the girl he was dating was loud. Had it not been for your headphones you would have heard them in the hallways. Kyle promised not to walk in on you and Johnny later, further causing you to hide in shame.

John was driving everyone back, seeing that he’d only had one pint early on in the night and didn’t trust anyone else to drive in their inebriated states. Simon called shotgun immediately, leaving Kyle stuck with you and Johnny in the backseat. You knew to behave, being in a confined space was a recipe for disaster. Your mind went back to where Marc was, and if he was safe. Surely he could handle his own, he’d done it for years after he left you to fend for yourself in London.

“Alright, please make it to your rooms and do not get into the damn kitchen again please.” John had pulled up outside of his apartment.

It was an agreement that any time you guys went out everyone would crash at someone’s apartment to make sure they were all doing well the next day. Simon was a tank when it came to alcohol, he could drink everyone under the table and still seem as if he was sober. Kyle could hold his own but he became very giggly and cuddly. John was your typical drunk guy, made bad jokes and laughed at everything. Johnny you were beginning to learn was a major flirt, and a damn good kisser.

“Alright captain, see you in the morning.” Kyle made himself comfortable on the couch, not even bothering to change into something more comfortable.

“You two better behave, don’t want the neighbors banging on my door because you kept them up.” John pointed his finger between you and Johnny.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be good.” Johnny steered you towards one of the extra bedrooms, shutting the door behind you.

You grabbed your pajamas and laid them on the bed, sliding your shirt off before unclipping your bra with a soft groan. No one liked wearing bras, they were uncomfortable and annoying to put on and taking them off felt so good.

“Jesus.” Johnny’s voice was breathless, gaze wandering over the skin that was now on display.

“Mmm?” You’d completely forgotten he was in the room with you for a moment, unbuttoning your pants and sliding them down your legs.

“All this for me?” Johnny walked over slowly, palms sliding over your back and sides.

His skin was hot to the touch, like fire and ice.

“Maybe.” You leant back against his chest, relishing in the feeling of his body and hands against yours.

“I’ll be sure to appreciate it very much.” His lips pressed against your neck, sliding down to the waistband of your panties.

You couldn’t stop the moan that slipped through your lips, not realizing you would be making those noises for the rest of the night.

—---------

Sunlight was streaking along your intertwined bodies, soft snores filling the otherwise quiet room as the two of you slept peacefully. Simon and Kyle tiptoed in the room, carefully pulling the sheet over your body so that you would still be covered in case Johnny flailed. Somehow both men had woken up completely fine, no hangovers in sight. Stepping away from the bed Kyle raised his hands to start clapping loudly. Simon prepared himself for however Johnny was going to react.

“Wakey wakey love birds! Time to get up!” Both you and Johnny lunged up in bed, grabbing onto the sheet to keep yourself modest.

“Jesus, what the hell’s wrong with you?” Johnny was more annoyed at being woken up than that they were seeing the two of you nearly nude.

“John’s making food and wanted us to get you.” Simon shrugged before heading back out of the room, letting Kyle shut it behind him.

You flopped back into the pillows, head throbbing with a hangover from all the alcohol you’d had the night before. Clearly they hadn’t been affected and now you were annoyed. Not only was your head throbbing from the hangover, your entire body was sore from last night as well. Johnny was a man who knew damn well how to make you feel good and leave you wanting even more.

“Mmm, c’mere.” Johnny slid his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush to his own.

“Don’t think I could take you again this morning, a little too sore.” It was a good type of sore, something that would resonate for a couple of days at the least.

“‘S too bad, could just eat you right up.” His lips pressed against your neck softly, trailing down until they reached the top of your chest.

“Johnny, please.” Your nails dug into the skin on his shoulders, breath shaky as you tried to stop the racing of your heart.

Unfortunately Simon chose that moment to start banging on the door, demanding the two of you come out and eat breakfast. Both you and Johnny groaned, pulling away from one another to grab your clothes. He didn’t bother to pull on a shirt, leaving his torso on display in all its glory.

“Better put on a shirt unless you want Simon pointing out all the hickies you have.” His chest and neck were littered with dark purple splotches, scratches lining the skin on his back.

“You just don’t want ‘em seeing your handiwork.” Johnny was a confident man, had every right to be considering how he looked.

“Maybe I want to keep you all to myself for a little longer.” The shirt you’d stolen from Simon a couple months ago landed on your mid thigh, covering the shorts you’d thrown on.

“After breakfast I’m all yours.” Johnny threw a wink your way, pulling on his shirt from last night before heading out to the kitchen.

You fanned yourself for a moment, memories from the night before flooding your mind. Hopefully they hadn’t heard you and their teammate getting down and dirty like two college kids. John was sitting at the table, nursing a cup of coffee and scrolling through his laptop almost absentmindedly. Gaz and Simon were both cooking breakfast and brewing tea, and coffee for whoever wanted to partake. The moment Johnny’s eyes landed on you he pulled you into his lap, arms wrapping around your waist.

“Keep it PG you kids, don’t want to see the two of you going at it.” You hid your face in Johnny’s neck, hiding the way your whole body flushed.

“No worries cap, we’ll behave.” It didn’t matter if he was joking, Johnny wouldn’t push you if it made you uncomfortable.

You went to make a retort at John, to tell him that you were going to be on your best behavior around everyone else, until a knock at the door stopped you. It could be a number of people, and now you were nervous that they were going to be sent on a mission and leave you here. John went over to see who it was, opening the door slowly and carefully.

“Can I help you?” His voice wasn’t friendly, whoever this was was a complete stranger.

“Uhh hi, I’m looking for a friend of mine and I think she might be here?” Wait, you knew that voice.

“Marc?” Your head whipped up, body straightening as you waited to see if you were correct.

“Y/N?” Marc sounded shocked, he’d finally managed to find you.

John stepped back to let him inside, shutting the door behind him to keep the sense of privacy to everyone else in the apartment. You were ecstatic to see him standing before you, it’d been so long that you weren’t sure you’d ever see him again. Pressing a quick kiss to Johnny’s cheek you pushed yourself to run over to Marc, hugging him tightly.

“It’s been so long! Where the hell have you been?” If you were an honest person you’d tell Marc he looked like hell, his hair was a little longer, a beard covering his normally smooth cheeks.

“I’ve been looking for you, I’m pretty sure we both got sent here.” Marc suddenly realized how many people were standing around staring at him.

Simon was glaring at him, arms crossed over his chest as Gaz simply raised a brow in a “who the fuck are you?” type of expression. You were too afraid to turn around and look at Johnny and see how he looked.

“Sorry, these guys have been keeping safe since I got here. That’s Simon, Kyle, John, and Johnny.” You turned back around to face Johnny, noticing that he didn’t look angry at all, he looked almost lovestruck.

“Nice to meet everyone.” Marc wouldn’t admit how nervous he felt, it was obvious these men could kill someone and make it look like an accident.

“How’d you manage to find me?” You pulled him over to the table, sitting back in Johnny’s lap while Marc took the chair between you and John.

He began to explain how he’d landed somewhere in the US and spent the first couple months trying to work odd jobs to help get enough money to find you. Khonshu had also followed him, so at least he was safe from anyone who wanted to harm him. And then he began to talk about how he illegally hacked into a military base and managed to find you through security cameras. Had you not gone out with the boys the previous night it would’ve taken him longer to find you, according to Marc at least.

“So, get your stuff so we can go home.” Marc stood up, brushing off his pants and waiting for you to comply.

“Oh..Marc I don’t think I want to go back.” Your life here has been happier in the last few months than back in your own universe.

“What? Are you serious right now?” Marc was getting annoyed, why the hell would you want to stay somewhere you didn’t exist?

“Yes, I actually have people that like having me around, it’s not like my parents are going to be so sad that I suddenly disappeared.” They’d move on within a few weeks, you were sure of it.

Marc wanted to retort, to say that you were making a horrible decision by staying with people you truly didn’t know, but with the way one of them was glaring at him, he thought better of it.

“If I go back without you, there’s a chance you’ll never be able to go back, I need you to understand that.” Marc was hoping you would understand where he was coming from, however you stood strong.

“Marc, you know I care about you a lot, but I didn’t have a purpose there, I was working a deadend job waiting to see what life would give to me. I was depressed and not even you cared enough to stick around for longer than a week.” You loved Marc, and Steven, but you needed something stable in your life.

“I’ll give you a few more days to think about it, but if your mind is truly made up then I’ll leave you to it.” Marc sighed, turning without another word and leaving the apartment.

Johnny gently squeezed your hip, trying to reassure you that he was here if you needed the support. You laid your fingers overtop of his own, his touch seeming to ground you even more than usual. John was frowning, it was a look that you didn’t prefer seeing on his face, or any of theirs for that matter.

“I need to know, I don’t want to push myself onto you guys if you don’t want me here, I know I just kind of got dropped here by accident but..yeah.” Your heart started to race, what if they didn’t want you to stay after all?

“Sweetheart, I think I speak for everyone here when I say that we would love nothing more than for you to stay here with us, you’ve been the best thing that came into all of our lives.” Johnny’s words warmed your soul.

You’d finally found your purpose, felt like you truly belonged somewhere you’d found yourself, albeit by complete and total accident. You would sit down and talk with Johnny before making the final decision, this wasn’t something to take lightly.

—-------

Marc was waiting inside the cafe near the apartment you were staying in, waiting to see if you would be coming home with him or if this was a final goodbye. He’d ordered himself a coffee, rolling his eyes at the looks he got from the barista. Sure, they were in England and he could’ve let Steven take over when ordering but he wanted to speak with you personally.

“Sorry I’m late!” You ran over to the table, pulling out the chair and sitting down quickly.

“I’ve only been here for a couple minutes anyway, you’re fine.” Marc wouldn’t tell you the truth, that he’d finished his coffee and nearly ordered a second cup.

“I’ve made my decision, I sat down with everybody and we talked about what would be best for them but also for me.” You looked down at the table, afraid to see the hurt that was coursing through his eyes.

Marc already knew the answer, he knew he wouldn’t be leaving with you by his side, that he was losing the one true friend he had. It was painful, deep down he would always think about your friendship and how even through thick and thin you were there for him. This wasn’t his decision though, you were able to make your own decisions and he needed to respect that.

“Umm, Stephen Strange contacted me last night, he found out about what had happened and offered to let us come back today and when I told him that I wanted to stay he promised that we could keep in touch.” You looked up slowly, watching the realization dawn on Marc’s face.

“Wait, he’d be able to let me visit?” This wasn’t something he thought possible, he’d always assumed it would be a one way ticket home.

“He gave me a way to contact him if I ever wanted, or needed to see you.” Your eyes filled with tears, a happy smile pulling up your face.

Marc threw himself around the table, pulling you into a vice tight hug. He wouldn’t lose you after all. Steven was rejoicing in his head, he seemed even happier with the news you had given them.

“Better let me be invited to your wedding.” Marc muttered into your hair, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’ll be the first to know.” You pressed your face further into his chest, letting tears soak into the cotton of his shirt.

“I’m gonna miss you a lot kid, try not to get into too much trouble without me around.” Marc pressed a kiss to your forehead, this day was ending on a much happier note.

“I’ll try.” You pulled from his embrace, giving him one last smile before running from the coffee shop to where Johnny was waiting outside.

Marc watched the way he wrapped you up in his arms, smothering your face in kisses while you laughed loudly. He’d always been your protector, needing to keep you safe from the horrors of the world, but now you had someone else to do that for you. And he wouldn’t lose you, not anymore.

[lazybutsmexy]

Bird hunting

Ghost x fem!reader x Soap

Chapter 4: The Hound Dogs

Ch. 3 < Series masterlist > Ch. 5

Warnings: probably inaccurate police procedures, misogyny, referenced/implied human trafficking, cursing, non-con elements.

Summary: Ghost and Soap are missing a piece of their unit, but the search unit finds a piece of the puzzle.

Do not read if you're under 18. This work contains mature and triggering themes.

Word count: 3000~

Simon didn't move an inch while Johnny used his shoulder to block the world from around himself. It was unusual for him to see Johnny so distraught. Out of the two of them, he had always been the most emotional of them, less inhibited to show his emotions towards other people he trusted. Of course, if the situation called for it, Johnny would always keep a tight grip on his emotions - their job demanded it, after all. 

Making friends is not in the military handbook, he had told him once, and he was right in a sense. Making close relationships with people they knew could die the very next time they walked out of base could only destroy them. 

But it would be very hypocritical of him to not admit that growing closer to his team, particularly to Johnny and Canary, hadn’t made him better at his job in a way. He was more aware of his and his team’s surroundings, and less likely to put his life in the line of fire unnecessarily and do reckless things, knowing that there were at least two people who would chase him to the pits of hell to tear him a new one. 

There was also the perk of looking forward to getting back to his house, knowing that he had a home to come back to, and that someone wanted him to come back alive. 

He felt Johnny stir slightly, and he slowly let go, allowing him to stand straight. Simon looked into his eyes, finding a newfound determination shining through. Johnny’s hands moved up to cup his face through the skull balaclava, and Simon let him pull it up to his nose. His hands stroked Johnny’s wrists as he let himself be pulled down to meet his lips. He would have stopped him, but decided to humor him as there was no one around them - and they both needed it. 

The kiss was slow, almost calculated in every fraction of a move. They both took their sweet time enjoying the weight of each other's lips, and the warmth of each other’s skin. It was bittersweet, knowing that there was a missing piece to their unit - one of the many reasons they never kissed during missions, even if they were by themselves. It was lonely, quiet, and cold. It felt like they were in the middle of Siberia, trying to huddle for warmth in front of a dying fire. The world grew silent around them, the only sound being the soft, quick intakes of breath through their noses. They let themselves be taken away from reality, and shut away everything else around them. 

In their small fraction of the world, only they remained, along with their grief, their pain, their fear, and their hope. 

~~~~~~

Hartford ended his call with the station and put his phone in the inner pocket of his jacket, stifling a groan. The cold wind had picked up and his old knee wound began to sting again, as it would every winter. He paid it no mind, though - he had assured his old friend that he would treat this disappearance as a personal case. He didn’t have many of those, but he couldn’t deny the heaviness in his heart when he first spoke to John Price about Canary. 

It was obvious that, not only was she an important part of his task force, but also she was the kind of person who nestled herself into the hearts of those around her, and made them her home. He saw it all through John’s eyes - the worry that she was missing, the fear when he announced the discovery of a body, the bittersweet relief that the body didn’t belong to her. 

“John, you might want to call your boys back,” he told the captain while he adjusted the neck of his sweater. Price nodded and brought both pinky fingers to his mouth, blowing hard on a long, loud whistle that crossed the air into the forest. 

Seconds later, both Ghost and Soap walked out of the tree line, and Hartford noticed there was a different look in their eyes. They were determined, hungry for action, like men on a mission.

Or like dogs in a hunt. 

It ran a shiver down his back - although he pretended it was the wind’s fault -, and he let himself feel slightly sorry for the poor sod that got in their way. 

As soon as Ghost and Soap joined them, the detective cleared his throat with a grunt, getting everyone’s attention. “In about twenty minutes, a unit will arrive to the start of the trail,” he pointed in the direction opposite to the bridge, “and we will begin combing through the grassy area between the forest and the road, the trail, and as much as we can of the edge of the forest.”

“You can participate in the search but only as volunteers and not as appointed officers,” he sighed, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair as he looked directly at Price, “HQ told me that until there’s a hint that this is something related to the people you told me about, or anything bigger than a one-man crime, this is a police case through and through.”

Price frowned, clearly unpleased, “So, we have to discard the military gear and weapons, and follow your lead, am I right?”

“Exactly,” Hartford sighed, “they don’t want the military to conduct searches without previous police authorization.” Price considered it for a moment, but thought that it was better than nothing. He moved to the back of the jeep and opened the trunk, nodding at the men.

Ghost was the first one to move, reaching towards his vest and unfastening it, shrugging it off and tossing it into the jeep’s trunk. His tactical belt and holsters followed, but he would keep the skull balaclava. Soap and Gaz followed, leaving their gear in the trunk and being left only with their uniforms. They weren’t entirely in civilian clothes, but it would work for their purpose. Price was the last one to shed his gear and close the trunk, fixing his fishing hat a little tighter on his head.

Hartfort nodded at the men, “Alright, let’s go meet my boys now.” He climbed on the passenger seat, and Price behind the wheel. Gaz sat behind price, Soap in the middle, and Ghost climbed on last - these last two pressing their thighs against each other a little tighter than necessary. 

~~~~~~

“So, this is how things’ll go,” the detective raised his voice so the entirety of the search squad would hear him over the passing cars. Price’s task force was among them in their uniforms, sticking out like a sore thumb against the small sea of officers in dark blue. Once a quick introduction had been made, it was decided they would walk between the officers in a side-by-side line. 

“Each of you will have a few of these little ones,” Hartford raised a long, straight pole, no thicker than a straw, with a little red flag in one of the ends, “if you see anything that you think suspicious, no matter how apparently insignificant, you stick one of these next to it. The boys and gals from evidence,” he pointed at a smaller group of officers standing at a side, carrying cameras and briefcases, “will follow you and take care of whatever you found.” Then he clapped his hands, peeking a glance at the position of the sun, “I say we have about two hours of sunlight left, so let’s not waste any more time.” 

A few minutes later, a somewhat crooked line of people were slowly combing the terrain, using sticks to peer through the bushes, their faces pointed to the ground below them. It was slow, tedious work. A patrol car had parked at the beginning of the search area, and an officer was slowing the passing cars to make it safer for the team to work. 

After almost an hour, a few tiny flags had been littered around the bushes. Most of them were signaling candy wrappers and cigarette butts. Gaz had placed one right next to a used condom, wondering what was the appeal of making such an open area a place to bone, chalking it down to just college kids being weird. The officers in charge of evidence were close behind, photographing and processing every element found, knowing that the smallest object could become a big lead in the case. 

Still, Ghost felt like they were making too little progress. His eyes scanned the tall grass methodically, but his mind was set on Canary. He wondered if she was hurt, or if she was being tortured for intel. From experience, he knew that she had built up her pain tolerance as she climbed the ranks, but everybody had a limit. 

Almost a full day had passed since the moment Canary had left her apartment, and he wondered if she was hungry, or thirsty, or cold. Judging by the clothes that were missing from her bedroom, he guessed she was only lightly dressed, fit for a jog but not for spending a night in the cold.

If she was being held for ransom - Laswell and her communications team were on high alert for any incoming calls to her personal phone and all phones in base, by the way - Canary was probably being maintained at least healthy enough to survive. 

His thoughts were interrupted when an officer, who had been walking next to the trail, noticed a strange shoe print in the mud and called out for the detective. Hartford mentioned that it looked like someone had slipped on the slope. Little by little, other officers in the line noticed the trace as well in their positions. Price took a closer look, crouching over the trace and noticing there were two sets of shoe prints. 

“The trace looks spaced out,” he offered, “two people came running from the trail, probably a chase.”

This alerted Gaz, Soap and Ghost, and Hartford couldn’t help but compare the sudden change of their posture akin to hound dogs finding a trace, or a sheep dog smelling a wolf. The combing of the terrain didn’t stop, however. The officers stepped over the trace to avoid contaminating the clue, but this time it was Ghost who called it out, after his eyes caught the sight of something very familiar among the thin branches of a tiny bush. 

“I found something,” he bellowed, causing the skin of the officers around him to erupt in goosebumps, and looked straight to Price and Soap with a strange look on his eyes, “it’s one of her gloves.”

~~~~~~

The drive to the trail was mostly silent, but definitely less tense than the stuffy environment of the basement. The only permanent sound was the constant click and buzz of the radio changing stations.

“...Nothing fancy your taste, Your Grace?” the young driver teased, his eyes fixed on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift, his fingers tapping along the ever changing rhythms from the radio. 

“Ugh, I miss the time where fewer DJ’s were obsessed with Latin pop,” Baldy groaned, “Bad Bunny my ass,” he spat, still changing stations until he stumbled upon one playing Arctic Monkeys. He stared at the radio for a few seconds, then shrugged and finally put his hand down, fishing his cigarette pack and a lighter from one of the pockets in his jacket, “Eh, at least this is in English.” He lit a stick, then offered one to the other man, “Fancy a cig, Luke?”

Luke didn’t hesitate to fish one for himself and light it, taking a slow drag before exhaling the smoke through his nose. He kept his eyes ahead, only occasionally looking to the sides when he faced an intersection. After a few more minutes, he decided he should speak his mind. “...You know, Charlie, you should stop clashing with Alan so much,” he immediately felt the other’s glare on the side of his head, but he remained unfazed, “you know he’s kind of right about this whole thing.”

“...About me being an idiot for losing the fucking dart? Or for losing it and killing the other wench?” Charlie puffed out a cloud of smoke in Luke’s direction, who simply shot him a side-eye glare. 

“I was referring to the last one, about controlling your impulses,” Luke sighed as he stopped at a red light, “you know that if you lose it on every girl who doesn’t want you to fuck her, we won’t have any product to sell,” he took another drag of his cigarette, quirking an eyebrow at his companion, “the girls don’t look that alluring on video if they’re all red, black and blue.”

“They do if you’re sick in the ‘ead,” Charlie chuckled deeply, unable to keep down a wolfish grin. 

“Alan doesn’t want to sell snuff videos, idiot,” Luke sighed, starting the van again as the light turned green, “he wants to sell the girls, the videos are just…for catalog.” He grumbled a curse as a biker overtook a bit too close for comfort, then drove the van into the road that led them through the campus and to the trail, “It’s like when you worked in the bakery, you wouldn’t be able to sell the cake if you ate all of it.”

Charlie thought about it, briefly reminiscing on his old job, before tilting his head. “What if I want to have a taste of the cake before selling the rest?” he wondered, his eyes fixing on the younger once again, “y’know, to make sure the product is tasty.”

Luke snorted a chuckle, shaking his head at his logic, “then you should do it on video, just make sure not to take too big of a bite.”

Charlie cackled, nearly sucking his cigarette into his throat, and looked ahead, “got it”.

As they rounded the campus and neared the area they were supposed to look, they immediately went into high alert as they noticed a patrol car. They tried their best to greet the officer standing there nonchalantly. 

“...If they ask what we’re looking for, we’ll tell them-” Charlie immediately interrupted himself, his eyes going wide as he caught sight of the number of police officers in line, looking through the grass. “...shit.”

As they drove nearer, Luke gulped out loud, his cigarette nearly falling from his lips, as something caught his eye. “...Are-... Are those soldiers, too?”

~~~~~~

Officer Melanie Kirk had always been indecisive about what she wanted in life. Every morning meant a twenty-minute long decision on whether to have waffles or toast with her jam for breakfast. She always took the longest to order at any restaurant she went to, wondering if she should pick something new or stick to what she already knew she’d like. Before joining the evidence department at the police station, she even toyed with the idea of joining the bomb squad - in her own words back then, to have more adrenaline in her life. She desisted when she realized she could lose her fingers and never get a manicure again. 

Right now, as she carefully photographed and processed the tactical glove that was found in the bushes, under the heavy, unnerving stare of the behemoth of a soldier with a skull balaclava, she felt as if she was defusing a bomb with less than a minute left in the timer. 

With safely gloved hands, she carefully lifted the glove to put it in the transparent evidence bag, when she noticed something in the inside of the glove. She picked a tweezer from her briefcase, and with trained delicacy she dug it into the glove, pulling out a small, empty dart. 

Melanie held it up and looked at the detective, who stared at the tiny object with a confused frown, “A tranquilizer dart, with traces of what I’d bet is blood in the needle,” she explained, “I’ve seen larger ones being used on animals like rhinos and giraffes when I worked in a conservation program in Tanzania.”

“Those are tricky to use on humans,” Ghost commented, “there’s a much smaller margin of error, and clothes can be thicker than most animals’ skins.” Melanie looked up at him, slightly bewildered at the ‘how’ he knew about that fact, but chose not to comment on it - probably the easiest decision in her life so far. 

“Whoever used it must’ve been a bloody good shot, then,” concluded Hartford. Then, he looked around where he stood, and turned to Price, who stood next to him. “This is also where the trace ends, I reckon this is where she was finally captured.” 

“But not where the dart got her, if she managed to run, pull it out and stuff it in her glove,” Price continued, “I’ve seen this lass get shot and still be able to move for almost a kilometer before finding a place to lay low and patch herself up, then keep going.”

“Even if she managed to pull it out,” Melanie pondered out loud, taking her camera to photograph the dart and process it, “the drug would have entered her system the moment it dug in her skin. I’d say the dose was very strong, if she only managed to run up to here.”

Ghost stayed silent, his eyes following the trace back to the trail, picturing Canary desperately trying to run away as her body quickly faltered. His mind filled in the details he didn’t know yet and only imagined, like her eyes wide open in a terrified expression, and her skin clammy with sweat as she tried to force her body to respond as she ran from the trail towards the place he was standing on. 

He turned towards the road, searching over the surface of the road for any traces of tire marks, when he noticed the gray van driving by. A gut feeling told him to look at it more carefully, and locked eyes with the driver. 

The man behind the wheel visibly tensed up and discussed with the passenger, before speeding away towards the bridge. Ghost’s eyes remained on the van until it disappeared from view, and turned to look at Hartford, dictating the license plate to him.

A/N: aww kissy Ghost and Soap

Taglist: @died-in-a-field-of-flowers @rafaelacallinybbay @namenotimportant1373 @ragingbookdragon @zinfairy @scrumplump @speckel @omgitstatertot @fullmoon-94 @kalamataolivesssss @embers-of-alluring @warenai @frazie99 @kee-0-kee @littlezarp @scaredknight @kendahl757 @sweetybuzz25

To be added to the taglist, make a comment on the Bird hunting masterlist (link above)

[mrs-mactavish]

prompts: 18, 23… w/ Soap, any length is fine!! have a good day!

The Other Woman

a/n : HI! here's the 1/4 post of the week. it was supposed to be out yesterday but my grandad has been emitted back into hospital and I went to visit him yesterday but he's still himself and was cracking all kinds of jokes <3 ANYWAY,here's the angst!! i did 3 alternate endings which include: 1. Forgiving Soap with potential to get back together (i personally wouldn't), 2. Getting with someone else (cue jealous Soap!), 3. Not forgiving Soap, never getting back together (angst ending!)

Summary: Recently a new nurse had been hired on the 141 base but it seems Johnny has taken a liking to her… maybe a bit too much 

Content: Arsehole Soap, Cheating, ANGST ANGST ANGST!, tears, no comfort (a little from Price), typical dad Price, swearing, tears

Pairing(s): John 'Soap' MacTavish x reader (established), Alejandro Vargas x reader (ending 2)

Word count (main chunk): 1.5k

(main chunk & ending 1): 2.3k

(main chunk & ending 2): 2.0k

————————

He’s doing it again.

Johnny was flirting with the nurse for what felt like the 20th time today and it wasn’t even noon. It was clear to tell he was charming her with the way he leaned in with his hand resting on her arm while her cheeks were flushed. Like how yours would flush whenever Johnny would compliment you.

This had been going on for the past month, ever since Price hired the girl to be their new nurse. After the first few interactions you witnessed of Johnny and the nurse, you brushed it off considering that when you and Johnny were alone, he’d be just as attentive and sweet as before and assured you that he’s very much in love with every inch of you. Yet as soon as Johnny began distancing himself from you and began to get closer to the nurse, your concerns and suspicions grew with every lingering touch, over affectionate comments and constant whispering. He even missed your anniversary which was 2 nights ago.

It could just be paranoia. The entirety of The 141 told you ‘Johnny’s a loyal and honest man’ and that he would never do anything like cheat on you. Despite all that, you still went to Price to voice your thoughts about Johnny's new found obsession with the cute nurse. However it didn’t end the way you wanted.

There was hope that you were just going insane. It wouldn’t be surprising that given the horrors you’d seen, you might lose a bit of your composure and stability. There was hope that Johnny was still very much in love with you and these interactions with the nurse were purely friendly.

While you rambled on to Price about how you felt and if he thought any different, he gave you a telling look. A look which seemed like he knew something you didn’t but couldn’t muster up the words or courage to tell you.

Unknown to you, Price had seen Johnny 2 nights before making out with the nurse and wandering into one of the empty meeting rooms. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what they were up to.

“Price? Is everything okay?”

“y/n… Johnny slept with her.” ————————

You couldn’t sleep that night. Completely restless and distraught about the news you’d received from your captain about your boyfriend. How could he?

How long had this been going on?

The rest of The 141 were having a relaxed night together but you sloped off, not wanting to engage in a fake happy conversation with whoever came up to you. You tried getting some sleep an hour in but it was near enough impossible so now you were keeping yourself occupied in your small room, reading through the files of an upcoming mission which you were soon going on that required going down to Los Almas to meet Colonel Alejandro Vargas and Sergeant Rodolfo Parra.

All while you were occupied, Johnny was stumbling around from person to person, babbling absolute nonsense as a result of the amount of scotch he’d just had. Price was glaring right at him.

Just hours prior, Price cradled you against his chest in an attempt to calm your sobs down. Soldiers are meant to be strong but even Price couldn’t blame your breakdown from learning about Johnny's secret. Safe to say that Price was livid at the fact that Johnny was prancing around acting like everything was okay and that he was as good as gold. Price’s anger only heightened when Johnny made his way towards him, a smile plastered across his face.

“Captain! Want a drink?” Johnny asked, his voice piercing Price’s ears. Hoping he’d get the message, Price stared dead eyed into Johnny's. Since he was slightly drunk, Johnny mistook Price’s anger for friendly banter. He swung his arm around the captains shoulders and leaned into his ear.

“What’s gotten into you, sir? Lookin’ like you want me 6 feet under” Soap chuckled which was the last straw for Price. He knocked Soaps arm off of him and grabbed him by his shirt to drag him to the quieter side of the room.

“I hope you know how disappointed I am in you, Sergeant. Don’t even try to block out what you did to your girlfriend.” Price sneered, his anger evident in his tone of voice. Johnny stared blankly at his captain, dumbfounded. Never had he heard the captain have such venom in his voice before, especially towards someone in his team.

“What are you talking about sir?”

“Just this afternoon, I had your girlfriend come into my office with worries about you being unfaithful. Not sure if you noticed me the other night, John… kissing someone who wasn’t y/n and pulling her into the empty briefing room.” As soon as those words fell on Johnny's ears, his eyes widen with fear evident in his gaze. Price was outraged.

He could still picture the look on your face when he informed you that Johnny had cheated. The way your eyes shifted from both rage to sadness, your chest rising and falling at a heavy pace while your hands clenched into fists.

“Please captain, you can’t tell her. I’m sorry! It was a mistake, honest! I’m sorry, please” Johnny began apologising and pleading to Price but he wasn’t having any of it. His eyes remained cold and emotionless as he took no sympathy for the man in front of him.

“It’s my duty to make sure every one in Task 141 are treated with respect and dignity. I had to tell her what I saw otherwise it would’ve eaten me alive. For now Sergeant, I suggest you go and find your girlfriend so you can give her your explanation.” And with that relatively calm outburst, Price left Johnny standing on his own with his jaw slightly ajar.

He felt betrayed. Why would you go to someone else about your suspicions which were related to your relationship? Surely you should go straight to him. Soap clearly wasn’t thinking clearly, believing he had a right to be mad at you for talking to someone else about personal issues that included him. Feeling the rage bubble from inside, Johnny stormed out to find you.

The sound of the door slamming into the wall startled you from the files you had in front of you. Just a few feet away stood a very drunk and very pissed off Johnny. Not wanting to engage in conversation, you turned your back against Johnny and carried on flicking through the papers that were laid out.

“I can’t believe you” Soap hissed, slowing walking towards you. What? You snapped around so you came face to face. How dare he say that!

“Excuse me?”

“I can’t believe you’d go to Price about our personal issues instead of coming to me!” Soap raised his voice, beginning to pace around the room. In disbelief you yelled back, “So sleeping with the nurse is suddenly our personal issue? You’re unbelievable MacTavish!”. While delivering your outburst, you didn’t take much notice to the tears which were soon lining your bottom lashes but refusing to fall.

“Steamin’ Jesus, take a look at yourself! Why do you think I slept with her in the first place?”. Johnny’s comment caused you to tense up completely, the tears now beginning to drop slowly down your cheeks. Johnny showed no acknowledgment to this and began shouting again.

“All the time I see you walkin’ around base like a lost puppy, as if you cannae cope without me there. It’s pathetic y/n”. Taking a deep breath, you looked Soap in the eyes and answered, “That really hurt me”. Your voice wavered slightly but you refused to give Johnny the satisfaction of breaking down completely in front of him.

“I’m glad” he sneered, venom lacing his every word. Even if he was drunk, it wasn’t like Soap to act or talk like this with anyone, especially someone who he claimed to love just a few weeks ago. You felt your chest getting heavier and heavier the longer you stared into Soap's dead eyes, no real emotion present apart from anger. The audacity he had to stand in front of you and play it off as if he had a right to be mad. As you were collecting the files back up and clutching them under your arm, you spoke to Soap for the last time that night. He'd suddenly seemed like he'd gathered his thoughts together and looked like he was attempting to sober himself up.

"Before this relationship is over, I need to hear it from you... did you sleep with her?" you questioned. Although you knew it to be true, there was still that doubt and hope which lingered in the air. Hope that maybe the man you loved didn't break his promise and that he didn't sleep with someone else. Johnny's head lowered down as he mumbled his reply.

"...yes"

With that, you pushed past Soap and made your way out of the room to find Price so you could occupy your mind on the upcoming mission rather than your break up. Johnny couldn't move his feet, the reality of your words fogging his mind. It was really over...

———— ENDING 1 (Forgiving Soap) ————

Finally, Hassan was dead and the 141 could enjoy a well deserved break. Los Vaqueros had even joined you all together in the bar to celebrate, everyone in their element. You were sat at the bar, waiting for another drink when you saw Soap from your peripheral vision coming towards you. Awkwardly, you moved your legs slightly away and made yourself look busy with the nearly empty glass in your hand.

It'd been a while since your last interaction with Soap, that being the sour break up between the both of you. The day after your split, you were strictly professional with Soap whenever you needed to communicate but apart from that, you tried your best to avoid him. It was still painful to see Soap after all the pain he'd inflicted on you but what hurt the most was the fact that for some reason, he still owned a piece of your heart.

As soon as you broke away from your thoughts, you noticed that Soap had taken the seat which was next to you, a scotch in one of his hands. He looked quite well... as well as he could be. His hair was slightly longer and overgrown while his smile was still the same one you fell in love with. Cuts and scars were littered on his hands and forearm and his hands looked more calloused then you remembered. The smell of his cologne filled the air, reminding you of how much you missed him.

"Not a fan of big crowds?"

Soap's voice made you jolt slightly and look up at his face. He was looking back at you with a friendly smile and soft eyes. You simply nodded and went to turn away until he spoke again.

"You look well, bonnie" he smiled, quickly sipping his drink before setting it down. The nickname he'd used for you during your time dating slipped past his lips so naturally, it made you wince. Soap, noticing your reaction, sighed and rubbed his eyes. Silence filled the air around you, tension thickening with every passing second. Deciding to try ease the tension, you addressed the main question on your mind.

"So where's your girlfriend? I would've expected you to be together tonight" you questioned, quickly giving the bartender a smile when he slid you your drink. "Nope, no girlfriend..." Soap answered, swirling his glass. You stared up at his face, puzzled.

"What about the nurse back at base? The one you..." you couldn't bare to finish the sentence, the heart ache was still raw. Soap cleared his throat nervously, playing with the fabric of his jeans. "I... I cut all connection to her the same night you left. So no girlfriend... what about you? Got a boyfriend?". Even though he knew he didn't deserve you, there was a shred of hope that maybe you didn't have a boyfriend so maybe you could try again.

Smiling you answered, "Nope, no boyfriend..."

"I'm surprised y/n, you're amazing..." Soap chuckled, looking at you with a relaxed yet joyful expression. He placed a caring hand on top of yours before continuing. "I just want to say how sorry I am for the hurt I caused you... and I was wondering if there was a chance in forgiveness and maybe one day trying again? I really love you y/n and I've missed you like crazy".

This is exactly why you didn't want to see Soap. Because you knew that he could easily try and charm you back into his warm and loving arms again. However, you weren't going to let it happen so easily. Curling your fingers around his hand, you swiveled around in your chair so you were sat nearly face to face.

"Listen Soap... I'm not going to pretend that what happened that night didn't ruin my image for you as a partner. You really hurt me and I'll never forget that so please understand." Soap simply nodded, feeling like this was it for you two completely. "But, despite that... I am willing to forgive you for what you did and maybe later in the future try again. However I will say that you'll need to work twice as hard to gain my full trust and respect. It's not going to come easy." you assured, a serious expression plastered on your face as you cradled his hands. Soap couldn't help the wide grin that eased onto his face. He didn't care that he'd have to put in extra effort to gain your trust because all of that would be worth it for you. Heck, he'd do pretty much anything you'd ask him to as long as that meant you would give him a second shot.

Soap then raised your hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss atop your knuckles. "I assure you bonnie that I will not let you go."

———— ENDING 2 (Getting with someone else) ————

The warm sun was smiling down Las Almas, encouraging the cheerful attitude among the soldiers around you. Everyone seemed to be in their zone, taking it easy for the day. You were particularly cheerful today because you'd gotten word that Price and a few others from Task 141 were coming to Las Almas for an upcoming mission. Price didn't mention the names of the people who were going and you wondered if maybe Soap would be there.

It had been a while since you last saw Soap. Price had put you on a few missions which didn't require you to interact much with the mohawk man and you were very thankful for that. The majority of these required you to go to Las Almas so Price made the decision to have you stay with Los Vaqueros until the rest of 141 were needed. However your first few weeks in Las Almas were tough considering you had just had a recent breakup with a man you once thought of as your soulmate.

Your current boyfriend, Alejandro, was aware of this and took every step necessary to make sure you were happy and comfortable with his squad and himself. The connection between you and Alejandro grew quite quickly when you first met in Las Almas and you confided in him about your breakdown with Soap. Alejandro made you feel special and loved every day around base even before officially dating; giving you a flower he'd picked while on a quick mission and writing sweet comments on a scrap piece of paper which he'd leave on your pillow. Even after the rough ending of your relationship with Soap, Alejandro made you realise how much more you deserved and proved it to you every day with small gestures.

After a few months of your time with your current boyfriend, you were finally able to put your past with Soap behind you. There were no more heartaches whenever you thought about him , no more tears whenever you pictured him sleeping with the other woman. No more Johnny MacTavish.

"Y/N! There you are!" You heard Alejandro call for you. Turning around you saw him jogging towards you, a flower in hand. He was such a sweetheart and you couldn't suppress the grin which was slowly forming on your face. "For you, mi amor".

"Alejandro, you're so sweet! It's beautiful, thank you handsome" you giggled, leaning up to give him a quick peck on his lips. Alejandro smiled back at you and tucked the flower in your vest. "Anything for you." he said, placing his hands on either side of your head and giving you a kiss which lasted slightly longer than the first one. It wasn't until you heard a gruff voice call your name that you broke away from Alejandro, scanning your eyes along the base to find Price walking towards you both.

"Price!" you called back, practically running towards him with your arms open. Price was quick to accept your hug, his hands resting on your back with a small smile stretched across his lips. Pulling away you stared up at Price happy to see him. His hands then clasped around your shoulders briefly before falling to his side. "Good to see you, kid."

"Likewise captain" you chuckled. As you looked behind him you saw Ghost slowly making his way over with a relatively smaller man who you identified nearly immediately as Soap. From a quick glance, his hair seemed slightly longer and his body language suggested he was quite tired. Alejandro must've recognised him because you soon felt the presence of your boyfriend standing beside you, his hand reaching down to gently lace his fingers with yours. It was comforting to know that he was there with you in case seeing Soap got too much for you.

However when you finally came face to face with him after months of no contact, you didn't feel anything. No sadness, no anger, no guilt, no excitement. There was nothing there and perhaps that was a good thing. "Ghost, it's great to see you again" you said, nodding at the 6'4 man. Ghost merely nodded back a gave a bleak answer of "And you, y/n."

Looking at Soaps face, you gave him a friendly smile and greeted him just like the others. "It's nice to see you again. You look well, Soap". Johnny winced at the sound of you using his code name which went undetected by everyone else apart from Ghost. Over the course of your past relationship, he was so used to hearing you call him 'Johnny' and he loved it. But he soon realised he'd need to grow accustomed to the professional relationship you two would have now that you're working on the same mission.

"Anyways, let me introduce you to Colonel Alejandro Vargas, he's the head of the Mexican Special Forces Los Vaqueros" you began, motioning towards the man next to you who gave a wave with the hand which was still intertwined with your fingers "and his second in command Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra, who is currently elsewhere around the base."

Price and Ghost began making small talk with the Colonel but Soap was too busy looking at your hand which was linked with Alejandro. He knew he'd see you here but he didn't know how much it'd pain him to see you with someone else. After your break up, he was training himself twice as hard to try distract his mind from you. Johnny despised himself for what he did to you and he knew you deserved someone so much better than him. Still he couldn't help the tightening feeling in his chest when he saw the loving gaze you held with your new boyfriend; the same gaze you once looked at him with... and he took that for granted.

"Right well why don't we all move inside so we can talk about the upcoming mission." Alejandro announced, briefly letting go of your hand before pulling you into his side as he began leading Price, Ghost and Soap inside. On the way inside, Soap could hear the nicknames that were flowing out of Alejandro's mouth which were causing you to blush. Despite the pain Soap was in seeing you happy and content with someone else, he was also pleased you had found someone who could make you happier then he ever did. With that, he continued on smiling his way through the day and kept reminding himself that as long as you were happy, he was happy for you.

———— ENDING 3 ( Not forgiving Soap, never getting back together)———— Not forgiving Soap, never getting back together

Throughout the course of the next few months, you were keeping yourself busy with any missions which were available and constantly running errands for Price so you could avoid the mohawk man. No one bothered to ask either you or Soap about what happened, not wanting to start any unnecessary drama. The only people who knew the ins and outs of what happened apart from you and Soap were Price and Ghost. As soon as you left the room that night, Soap went to confide in his masked friend who told him something very obvious; that he was a complete bellend.

Soap wanted to try and make it u to you and hopefully win you back. He'd already cut ties with the woman he slept with and went to Price straight after to convince him to fire her. Price did fire her but as a favour to you, not to Soap. Once that was out of the way, Soap began trying to find ways to try and charm you. These included him giving you random shit he found around base which 'made him think of you', giving you a load of compliments and doing any tasks for you as a favour.

Nonetheless you were still very upset and majorly pissed off how Soap believed that he could just make all of this go away with a simple pet name and gift. It wasn't until he'd practically cornered you into an empty briefing room that you snapped.

"Just fucking leave me alone Soap! I don't want to see you!" you yelled, hands flying everywhere as a gesture of your rising anger. Soap simply stared back at you, trying to play innocent.

"What? I don't understand, bonnie-". You cut him off with a sudden shout.

"No. You don't get to call me one of your cute pet names because we're no longer together Soap and you can thank yourself and that fucking nurse for that". A deafening silence filled the room, neither of you daring to speak after you mentioned her.

All you could do was stare straight into Soaps eyes, your chest heaving as your hands were balled into fists at our sides. There was nothing you wanted more than to leave the room and desert Soap but you wanted to make it extremely clear how you felt. Another minute had passed until Soap spoke up.

"I've been trying Y/n, I really have! I was hoping that maybe you'd give me the opportunity to explain myself, soberly and forgive me... then maybe you could give 'us' another shot?" Soap questioned, searching your eyes for any kind of reaction. "There is no 'us', Soap." Johnny felt himself sink down sightly but when you began walking towards him, he felt himself having to bite back a smile. He believed that you were going to forgive him for his stupid mistake and finally be in his arms again.

You came very close to Soap, the feeling of his breath on your face. Soap felt the temptation to lean down and kiss you; claim you again as his. But that temptation was soon broken when you whispered in his ear "I will never forgive you." before turning back around and leaving both the room and Soap.

[macravishedbymactavish]

| Blog HQ | Modern Warfare 2 Masterlist | Series Masterlist | 18+ MDNI |

Soap's Version

TW for heavy angst, allusions to cheating (reader cheats), ending of long term relationship. GN!Reader, no use of "Y/N"

Hands gripping the steering wheel, knuckles blanching as his jaw locked. Disbelief filled his head at your words.

This had to be a sick joke.

As you continued defending your stance, small gasps and shaky words enunciated your regret. You swore you never meant for anyone to get hurt; you never meant for things to turn out this way.

Nodding along, eyes trained on the road in front of him. Nausea gnawing at his stomach, tears burned in his eyes. You were the one. You were his end game.

Thoughts of marriage, a small cottage in a lush field, or a loft in a bustling city. Anything you wanted he could and would provide because he loves you. Loved you.

Loved you so much it hurt.

Tears silently fell down his face, mirroring the raindrops on the windshield. Your sobs echoing in his ears as you begged for him to say something, say anything.

"Yell at me! Tell me I'm horrible, that you hate me. I'm not asking for forgiveness, John. I just want something!" Your shrill voice, fired up with emotion, broke through the haze over his emotions. 

Sighing softly as he clicked the blinker on, turning onto the familiar street to the place he once called home. He didn't speak until the vehicle was parked in the driveway, head leaned back against the headrest. Eyes following the water drops as they raced down the glass.

"I'm not going to yell at you" he whispered, a new calmness coating his words. The tone almost scared him, the lifeless drone where emotion and energy used to be.

He made the mistake of glancing in your direction, seeing the spark of hope in your swollen, red eyes. Another sigh as he closed his eyes, feeling more hot tears pass through the lids.

"We're going to go inside, I'm going to the bedroom to pack a bag then I'm leaving. I'll be back later this week to get the rest of my stuff" the hum of the engine, waiting to be shut off muffled the sound of 2 hearts breaking in unison.

Turning the key, and stepping into the downpour he ignored your protests. The wet calls of his name as you begged him to reconsider; declaring your love for him.

"John," you sobbed, breath catching in your throat as you reached out. Fingers wrapping around his forearm gently. "Johnny."

His shoulders tensed, your voice so small as you whispered his name. Whispered that this would never happen again. I love you, only you.

"Do you?" He asked, unlocking the door and walking in. Not stopping to remove his shoes or coat as he made strides to your shared room. Bile rose in his throat as he passed the threshold.

"Please," you begged, leaning in the doorway sobbing. The emotion fell on deaf ears as he grabbed his clothes; placing them onto the dresser methodically. He wipes his cheeks every so often, not bothering to hide his heartbreak.

Slinging the now packed bag on his shoulder, he moved to leave the room. Eyes rolling as you stood in his path, pain etched in your features. 

"No. You don't get to leave on this note," you protested, arms crossed over your chest. "We need to talk first. You said it yourself, never leave the house without saying I love you; because there is no guarantee that you'll come home"

Biting his lip, holding back his anger. The thought of yelling, reminding you of the terrible things you had done crossed his mind. Hurt you in a fraction of the way you had just hurt him.

Eyes closed, a long exhale through his nose and a soft, please move.

Shuffling back, arms wrapped around yourself as you told him how much you loved him. How it was always him.

You watched as he shook his head, making his way to the front door. Making his way out of your life. Heartbeat hammering in your ears as you acted on impulse, on regret, on desire.

"Marry me"

He stopped mid step, his whole body tensing for a second. Hands shaking as he slowly turned. Eyes filled with pain and rage, head shaking.

"Why would you say that?" He countered, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. Tears continuing to fall freely. "After you invited someone else into our home, our bed; why would you say that?"

"I love you" you stated plainly.

Take it or leave it.

Despite the betrayal, his mind still debated your earlier point. Always tell those you love how you feel, even if you're just leaving to grab groceries. There is no guarantee you'll make it home.

"I loved you. I wish you the best. I'll be back in a week for the rest of my stuff. " his throat tight as he turned, leaving the house. Tears mixing with the rain as he got back into the vehicle.

Sobbing freely as he drove, years of love and memories crashing down around him. How is he going to explain this to his friends? To his team? To his ma?

By the time he pulled in front of Simon's house, his head was pounding. Neck tight and mind filled with the nightmare of starting over. In life and romance.

Swallowing his tears, and pride he wiped his face. Grabbing his backpack and making his way up to the door. Knuckles wrapping against the wood, foot anxiously tapping against the concrete.

"Johnny" the older man started, leaning against the now open door. "You look cold"

"No colder than your heart, Simon" he quipped back, silently thankful that his friend didn't question the late night visit. Or why it looked like he'd been crying.

Eyeing the backpack, Simon stepped back. Making a comment about the guest room being open for as long as he needed. With a thankful tap to the shoulder, John made his way to the stairs. Stopping when he heard a call of his name.

"You'll be okay in time. Have a shower, I'll put tea on" 

Turning to look back at his friend, a small pained smirk crossing his lips. 

"Fuckin' Brits"

Taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221 @bowtruckleninja @v1naco

[criminalamnesia]

Simon x Reader whose already work with TF 141 for a pretty long time. And one day, there's a traitor around the base, leaking their information. All of the proof are leading to reader but reader always deny it! And they interrogated reader, and reader always deny it! And he's (with other 141 members, of course, but it mostly him) do their torture methods to get information out of reader. They keep doing it until someday, the real traitor finally captured!

And make the reader traumatized, pls. Like, she would have trust issues, trauma, and others. She wouldn't forgive them, tho.

ooooo the angst. had to sit on this one for a few days before I wrote something, but here goes nothing.

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

when you blink open your eyes, the room is dimly lit. it’s silent save for the sounds of your labored breathing.

you must’ve passed out. one second johnny— a man you’d known for years—was slicing into your skin with a knife. the next, you’re staring into an empty room.

your hands jerk up involuntarily. still bound. the rope holding them to the arms of the chair have rubbed them raw. the skin is bright red and bloody. it makes you grit your teeth.

you look down at your lap, taking inventory of the parts of your body you can see. large gashes break up the fabric of your tac pants. the blood surrounding the deep wounds is dry and crusty.

one of the cuts looks like it’s getting infected. you swear you can see bone.

you’d taken this kind of suffering before. been capture by enemies, held and tortured and pushed to the brink of death. this was different. this was being done by your team. men you’d bled with. cried with. laughed with.

one you’d even slept with. the same one you loved. the one you called yours.

the door to the room swung open, hitting the wall with a metal thud. your head slowly lifts, eyes squinting to see him. by his stature, you know it’s simon.

he doesn’t bother shutting the door behind him. instead, he walks towards you slowly. as he comes closer, can make out his eyes in the sea of dark paint he smears around them. the same paint you’d helped him apply a time or two.

“back for more?” you say, and it’s meant to sound sarcastic, but all it sounds like is pitiful. your voice cracks, and pain seeps into your tone.

the first rule they’d taught you about scenarios like this was to never let the enemy know it’s working. never let them know that they’re hurting you— that they’re slowly wearing down your defenses.

well, you’d just broken that rule, and you hadn’t even meant to.

you didn’t know how long you’d been tied up, subjected to torture by men you had once called your family. all because a fucking liar whispered your name into their ears. all because they fucking believed it.

apparently the years meant nothing to them. to him, least of all, considering he’d done more damage to you than the rest of them.

simon comes to a stop in front of you. his hands are empty by his sides, but that’s not reassuring. there’s a table full of weapons off to the side. he would have his pick of the litter.

“ready to talk yet?” he says, and his voice is gruff. his tone is hollow. he’s speaking to you the same way he’d spoken to countless enemies. it makes you sick.

“fuck you, simon,” you spit out.

the betrayal of john, gaz, and johnny had hurt. but simon’s betrayal? that was enough to almost put you in the ground.

you’d stopped pleading with them the second they tied you to the chair. now, you were angry. furious. rage filled your veins, and if you weren’t beaten to all hell, you’d find a way out of these fucking restraints and strangle the man in front of you to death.

the man you loved. you’d thought you meant something to him, but apparently not— because who tortures someone they love?

“if you talk,” he ignores your outburst. “it’ll be easier. quick.”

“fuck. you.” you enunciate the words, your jaw impossibly tight as you grit your teeth. “im not the fucking rat.”

“all the evidence,” he starts as he disappears from your vision. you know he’s going to pick his weapon of the hour. you force yourself not to shudder.

“points to you.”

“take that bullshit evidence and shove it up your ass, riley,” you seethe, ropes pulling taut as you lean forward in the chair.

he’s back in your line of sight now, brandishing a large knife.

“you’re only making it harder on yourself, love,” he tuts, and then he’s swinging the knife down, right onto one of your fingers.

you scream as the blade cuts right through skin and bone. your teeth dig into your lip, drawing blood as you refuse to give him more of a reaction. it fucking hurts, but you’ll be damned if you let yourself cry.

“feel like talking now?” he asks, watching as half of your left pinky finger falls to the floor.

“or should we take off another?”

you look up at him, hoping he can see the hatred in your eyes as you speak your next words. “you could take the fucking hand off and I’d still have nothing to tell you.”

“let’s see how true that is then, eh?” he replies, and raises the knife again. he’s about to swing, when someone comes running into the room.

“ghost!”

it’s johnny. he’s obviously winded as he stops beside simon, dropping his hands to his knees as he struggles for breath.

“what, mactavish? im busy.”

“they’re—” he gasps. “they’re not— the— rat.” he says between breaths.

the room goes impossibly still. so quiet you swear you could hear the men’s heartbeats (or maybe that pounding in your ears was your own).

“you sure?” simon’s voice is softer as he lowers the knife and turns to johnny. the younger man nods, his eyes trained on you. you can see the regret in them, the sorrow.

“it’s fucking shepard.”

it’s not funny, but at the news, you burst into laughter. the men stare at you in confusion, but you can’t stop.

you’re laughing so hard you’re crying, and they’re just standing there.

“are you alrigh’?” johnny’s asking as he moves towards you. he’s fully recovered his breath now, and he drops to a crouch to be eye level with you.

you don’t answer— you can’t. you keep laughing. distantly, you hear the knife simon was holding clatter to the ground. can just make out the sound of more footsteps out in the hallway, coming towards the room.

you pass out.

when you wake up again, you’re in the infirmary. your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights.

“easy, love,” a voice to your right drawls.

your eyes are fully open now. you look down at yourself, noticing the lack of bindings. noticing the iv taped to your arm, the stitched cuts, the black and blue bruises, the missing fingernails and missing finger.

the person sitting next to you clears his throat. that’s when you look up and meet the eyes of your captain.

your captain. the man who was supposed to lead you, to keep you safe. what a fucking joke. he’d started the damn witch hunt.

“how d’you feel?” he asks, his words soft, like he’s trying not to scare off a timid animal.

you stare at him for a beat. then two. then you’re moving, pulling the iv from your arm and shakily pushing yourself up in the bed. price is telling you to stop, reaching out to push you back down, but you slap at his hands.

“get the fuck off me!” you shout, and that takes him aback. he stops, frozen, as he watches you shift in the bed. you throw your legs over the side of it and prepare yourself to stand.

“you really shouldn’t—” he begins after he’s regained his senses, but you pay him no mind. you place your feet on the ground and start to stand. your legs wobble, almost give out, but you’re able to stand. barely.

“shut up,” you growl, stumbling forward and towards the exit. he’s moving to cut you off, and you slide him a gaze that’s sharper than a knife. “and leave me the fuck alone.”

he halts again. he seems almost scared of you— but that can’t be right. even on your best days, he would still beat you in hand-to-hand combat.

he’s not scared of your threats or your frail body. he’s scared of what he’s done to you.

just then, johnny and gaz come through the infirmary doors.

“cap, y’alright? we heard yellin’—” johnny begins, but his mouth snaps shut at the sight of you out of bed.

you’re heaving from your spot next to the bed. your legs are shaking violently, threatening to give out any second. you feel nauseous and numb.

“let’s get you back into bed,” gaz says, and he starts towards you, but you stop him as your gaze snaps to his.

“don’t come any fucking closer. any of you.”

“bonnie,” johnny murmurs. he sounds miserable, but you don’t care. don’t give a fuck about how any of them feel.

“don’t. im leaving,” you grunt out, moving a foot forward slowly. you’d be damned if you fell in front of them.

“you can’t, love. you’re in no shape to be walking.” john says, and you snarl.

“and whose fault is that?”

the men stay silent as they watch you slowly shuffle towards the foot of the bed. you’re bracing yourself to walk on your own when simon walks in.

“get back in bed,” his tone is blunt. you ignore him.

you remove your hand from the bed, move to take a step forward without support, and you begin to crumple to the floor.

simon moves forward, quick as a cat, and catches you. he lifts you into his arms bridal style, and you’re screaming hysterically. your limbs are flailing the best they can in such a battered state. you’re in fight-or-flight mode, your body betraying your desire to put up a steely front.

your palms slap against simon’s upper body and his masked face. he gives no reaction. he doesn’t say anything. the others are watching the exchange silently. the room is buzzing with tension.

“get off me!” you screech, landing a slap to simon’s cheek. “let me— let me go! let me go!” you’re gasping for breath, tears streaming down your cheeks. you’re panicking. your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.

“put me down! get— get— off me! stop—” you sob.

the doctor rushes into the room then, yelling at the men for allowing you out of bed. you can’t make out what she’s saying over the rush of blood in your ears. you feel light-headed. you can’t breathe.

“put them down, now!” the doctor yells at simon. “they’re having a panic attack— I thought I told you four to stay away from them? they’re too vulnerable right now—” the doctor is chastising them as simon places you back in the bed.

spots are dancing in your vision. you don’t even feel it when the doctor sticks another needle into your arm. the words being exchanged above your head are muffled. it’s like you’re underwater.

john’s face comes into view, then johnny’s, then gaz’s. as your eyes start to close, you notice the only face you don’t see again is simon’s.

when you wake up again, it’s been two weeks.

the doctor had put you into a medically induced coma to allow your more serious wounds time to heal, without risking another episode. unbeknownst to you, the members of your team had stayed by your bedside almost the entire time— minus simon. he hadn’t come within ten feet of the infirmary since the day of your panic attack.

there’s fresh flowers on the bedside table. a steady beeping of the heart monitor. a fuzzy feeling in your head.

it feels like a dream, all of it does. none of it feels real as you settle into your body again. but then the hurt starts, and you remember the truth.

your family betrayed you. your lover betrayed you. they locked you up and tortured you. they didn’t believe you.

when the doctor came to your side to check your iv, she smiled.

“how’re you feeling?”

you look up at her, and it takes a moment for you to speak.

“don’t,” you begin. your mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “don’t let them…in here. don’t…wanna see them.”

the doctor nods in understanding, and she doesn’t say anything else to you. she turns and walks out of the room.

the door clicks shut behind her. she lets out a sigh before turning around to face the three men.

“they don’t want to see you.” she tells them, and their expressions drop. they don’t protest, and like wounded puppies, they walk off.

no one else comes to check on you for a few hours.

you’re in and out of consciousness— can’t tell what’s real and what’s a dream. flashes of your torture come back to you. flashes of a smile. of a scarred face. of hands on your hips and—

you crack your eyes open, and the room is dark. the only light is the blinking of some of the machines. it illuminates the room enough to allow you to see a large, dark figure slip from the room. the door clicks shut so quietly it’s almost imperceptible.

that’s when you notice fresh flowers on the bedside table.

your eyes start to droop once more, and you chalk up whatever you just saw to a dream, while simon exhales heavily on the other side of the infirmary door.

————————————————

authors note:

I hope this alright! it’s one in the morning (and I’m half asleep writing this) so I apologize for the errors that are most likely present, and the sense this most likely lacks. I feel like I could write a whole book about this idea, but im cutting myself off to sleep lol.

thank you for the ask, I hope I did your idea justice. 🫶

[v1x3n]

toxic fwb ghost x reader x johnny 'soap' mctavish┃ navigation part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 ୨୧ tags : angst, suggestive

simon 'ghost' riley who's one of your closest friends. he soon flirts with you and then you two decide to start shagging - no strings attached. just sex, a friends with benefits situation.

you had promised, even pinky swore to never fall in love with each other, he took the rules seriously and never fell in love but you couldn't last long.

simon knew you had liked him, hell, you fucking loved him. even before the casual hook-ups, and he still went through with it all. knowing you were in love with him. he took advantage of it.

he would grab onto you and fuck you whenever, you were his outlet, he knew you would spread or bend over whenever he wanted. he was your light and best friend, you would do anything for his love. yet the love never delivered to you.

simon soon regrets his choices after he caught you talking, laughing and checking out johnny 'soap' mctavish. Simons best friend.

comment to join main taglist!

[stinglesswasp]

Forehead smooches 💋

It's important to smooch your Soap at least once per day <3

[soapppp]

CW: pervy graves

All werewolves have a wolf inside that them guides their instinct and gives voice to their desires and fears. Soap is aware that all wolves want to keep this a secret from humans as so many of their other weaknesses have been revealed. It was Shepard, a bastard wolf (A child of a werewolf that couldn’t shift), who ordered Graves to turn Soap and Rudolfo in order to have control over them within the ranks. Graves chose to go after Soap alone as his inner wolf begged to claim him as his own, to make him one of the pack and breed him to quiver full. He manages to turn Soap only for him to be set loose in a city with Ghost missing and an angry Alejandro in his captivity. Graves is captured a week before Soaps first full moon and they quickly realise that they have too little information to keep Soap safe. Graves is damn near giddy when they chain him to the wall of a giant sealed off room with Soap, knowing the chains won’t hold and his own wolf will be able to take apart the suffering Soap and claim him before anyone else gets the chance. He watches through his own forced transformation as Soaps bones crack and break, his skin rippling as it melts of his bones and is replaced with the leathery skin that sprouts thick fur along his growing body. Graves mocks Soap, telling him he would of been fine alone, just miserable and horny, but now their alone and Graves is going to make sure he’s nothing but a breeding bench for his pack. Part of him is pissed at how much bigger Soap is to him, probably around twelve feet as a posed to his ten, but with Soap whimpering and whining like a bitch as he suffers through the pain… he rips the chains with ease and gets ready to mount Soap and force their bond in place, all the while his wolf is growling and celebrating in his mind-

A single shot rings out as a silver bullet enters his shoulder.

Ghost.

Graves is forced to watch as Ghost goes to the raging beast that is Soap and calms him down instantly with a simple touch, the way mates calm each other. His wolf howls in rage at someone taking what is theirs, but unlike Graves, it finds peace at seeing the beautiful werewolf’s eyes fill with appreciation and gratitude even as it’s cock swells an angry colour and blood drips from every inch of his body. Graves can tell that Soaps wolf has found it’s mate long before it even existed and that him being in that room wasn’t to help Soap but a way to torture him into submission.

It works as he spills every secret so he doesn’t have to see his desired mate love another.

[amikoroyaiart]

'It's okay, you can rest. I am not going anywhere.'

[klaart]

CW:// angst + implied mcd

Their dialogues were really fun,, always bouncing off each other

[maajul444]

[a-b-riddle]

Can’t stop thinking about poly141 who get so wrapped up in their own bullshit they begin to neglect reader. So you leave 🤷🏼‍♀️

It wasn’t a big deal at first. You understood that their jobs were intense to say the least. You own a bookshop, which in itself was exhausting, but you understood how they could get carried away with work.

You had excused the many delayed returned texts or missed FaceTime dates when they were deployed. When they came home, they almost always made it up to you. Showering you with attention and quality time.

But the past two returns home have been… different.

Usually at least one of them made a beeline to your shop or your loft if it was too late in the evening. You always held your breath when it was just one of them.

“They’re okay.” Was the usual answer. “Everyone made it back okay.” It was only then that you could melt into whoever’s hands you were in.

After one of their recent returns home you had voice to Price that you didn’t appreciate several days passing after they came back and no one had bothered to tell you. He had snapped. Arguing that a mission doesn’t finish just because they land back on soil. There was paperwork and debriefing to be done. If and when they wanted to see you they would.

He didn’t apologize until later. Crawling into your bed, using one of the keys you had given them. Blaming the stress. How they had almost lost Johnny for the reason of his outburst. What else could you do but forgive him?

So you had given them space after that one. Not holding it against them to decompress before seeing you.

The next time was the final straw. Solidifying how little they cared about you and how much power you had given them.

Johnny had come in around 7 one evening. He was dressed nicely, for civilian standards. You were reading a book on the couch when he had let himself in. You were wearing on of Simon’s sweatshirts and panties. He took you in for a moment before scooping you up.

He fucked you absolutely stupid. Adamant on having you cum on his tongue, his fingers and his cock. You were only able to bask in the afterglow of him filling you up before he started pulling his pants back on.

“What are you doing?” There were times that you would practically need a crow bar to get Johnny detached from you just long enough to relieve yourself. You had gotten many a UTI courtesy of Mr. John MacTavish.

“Dinner with my family tonight.” He explained by the time he was already buttoning his shirt. “The youngest just graduated and ma’ feels the need to go all out.” Now came the tie. Johnny was actually wearing a tie. To go to dinner. “A fancy dinner in London.” He huffed. “Meanwhile I’m out scufflin’ with bloody fuckin’ terrorists and I get a pat on the back.” He gave you a peck on the cheek before heading out the door. Promising to call you later.

You just sat in your bed. Still naked. Almost in shocked. He had fucked you and just… left. You were close to a panic attack as you called Simon.

Simon wasn’t the one to cuddle and coddle. But there was something so soothing at the sound of his voice or even how his heavy body felt perfect laying on top of you. Yes. Simon wasn’t the time to lift you up with words, but he was your own security blanket. Just having him close helped.

“Can you come over?” It wasn't unusal for Simon to be the one to come later in the evening. Insomnia was a bitch to deal with and you could sleep through the sounds of whatever he played on the tv. Most of the times you were content laying your head on his lap as he ran his hand along your head as if he were petting you. It was a bit cringe, but it knocked you out every time.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. The low timber of his voice already calming you.

“Johnny came over.” You sniffled. “He just fucked me and left.”

“Not surprised.” He scoffed. You could almost see him rolling those deep brown eyes of his. “If you wanted to cum, I’m happy to come over and help.”

For whatever reason, that only seemed to make you more upset. “You’re not listening.” You said, trying to spell it out for him. “He left. Like didn’t even stay and cuddle just left. Fucked me and left.”

“That’s why you’re calling me crying about?” He almost seemed… annoyed.

“Yes!” You said, nearly snapping. All of the tension from the last several months coming to the surface. “I’m not just a warm body to keep a bed cozy until you assholes decide you need to get one off.” Assholes. You called them assholes. “This isn’t what we agreed to.”

“Johnny is Johnny.” Simon tried to defend, not really caring to continue the conversation now knowing that you weren't in any sort of physical harm. “He wanted his dick wet and from the sound of it, that’s what he did. Don’t hold it against him because he had other things to do.”

“It’s not just Johnny leaving.” Your throat felt like it was tightening. A telltale sign you were close to crying. Whether from sadness or anger you weren't entirely sure. “The only time any of you want anything to do with me anymore is to fuck.” You missed date nights and lunches. You missed texting any and all of them about your day, about theirs. About new books. You had been trying for months to tell them over dinner one of your books got picked up. Yours was being traditionally published.

None of them had bothered to even try penciling you in.

“You got yours.” You heard the popping of a can top. Simon was settling in for the night. Once he popped a top at home there was no getting him out. He wasn't coming for you. “I don’t understand what you’re bitchin’ to me about. Yeah, in the beginning we indulged ya a bit? Dressed you up, took you out. But you should have known spreadin’ them legs of yours wouldn’t end with one of us puttin’ a ring on your finger.”

You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? These were the men that pursued you. Initially, individually, but when tensions became to much they offered a solution. All of them. Four times the attention, of the affection.

Four times the love.

But also four time the neglect. Four times the amount of heartbreak and disappointment. Loving all of them meant putting yourself in a position to let each of them hurt you in their own way and they had.

John's constant state of snapping at you as if you were one of his men.

Johnny swinging by as if you were just a fuck buddy. Not even bothering to give a peck before leaving.

Kyle essentially ignoring you for weeks now. Ghosting you for hours or having to cancel on date nights last minute or claiming that he really did forget that the two of you had planned to meet for lunch.

And now there was Simon. Telling you that all you meant to them was what was between your thighs.

Spreadin' them legs of yours wouldn't end with one of us puttin' a ring on your finger.

None of them ever intended on making this into something more. That much was clear now.

You didn't know what to say to Simon. You couldn't think of a witty retort. You couldn't find the proper insult to whirl his way. You couldn't convey just how much his words had hurt.

So you did the only thing you could.

You hung up.

[fluetytooty]

ghoastsoap cute little love story