#johnny mactavish

[call-of-duty-incorrect-quotes]

Soap: You're like our cool dad.

Price: I'm not your dad.

Gaz: Dear diary, today we were disowned by our own father.

Ghost: Father.

Price: Not you too, Simon.

Ghost: Father. I crave violence.

[moongreenlight]

Soap (who you’ve never met before ever in your life) being your server during an anniversary dinner with your long-time boyfriend except he took one look at you by the host stand and decided he had to have you. 

Calls you “sweet thing” while he unwraps a straw and puts it in your water glass for you. 

Asks if you’re out with your brother (without making eye contact with your boyfriend) and even after you told him no, he still ‘makes the mistake’ a few other times during the meal. 

Stops over way more than is necessary. Probably has the kitchen intentionally screw up your appetizer so that when you bring it up he can make you feed him off of your fork. For quality control, of course. “Cannae have a sweet thing like you wasting the talents of a pretty mouth like that on something below par.”

Your boyfriend is pissed. Sends back his food twice and makes such a scene that the manager comes over. When he throws accusations of an “overly fucking friendly waiter,” you try to smooth the situation over by saying that everything was fine. Your boyfriend gets so riled that he throws a fistful of cash on the table and tells you it should cover his meal and your ride home. 

Soap swoops in while you’re sobbing at the table. Slides in your side of the booth carrying a scoop of vanilla ice cream topped with an obscene amount of whipped cream and a cherry. Squashes you up against the wall while he coos kind things in your ear. Like he’s reading off a script meticulously chosen to include all of the right things that make you let down your guard enough to agree to let him drive you home. 

“Wouldnae hear of you driving yourself home in this state, kitty.”

And once he finally gets you back to his, he goes in for the kill. Keeps saying the right things, keeps wrapping his arm around you and pulling you right into his side, keeps pushing his face close to yours. So much so that it almost feels like it’s your idea when you- still hiccuping and sniffling softly- lean forward and close the centimeters wide gap between you.

[bunnysnared]

*taps mic* is this thing on..

hello i am absolutely terrified to post on here for the first time AHHH hopefully i show up in searches.. but to kick it off here are some [at this point..] really old soap sketches ♡ when i was trying to decide how i wanted to stylize his facial features.. still not sure!!

[baohanhanesel]

Frog Ghoap....

And yes Soap is keeping the Mohawk.

[emmster]

I’m not sure if this is angst or not

[simonzmama]

‘magining pretty boy johnny who likes a lil roughness in his life

wrists bound behind his back, teary wide eyes peering up at you, n a pretty pout gracing the thin lines of his lips has you smilin’ almost mockingly.

his head cocks to the side as your fingers run through the soft scruff lining his jaw, hand cupped around his chin. “oh, baby…” you start, drawing off a false narrative for the sweet boy. “tell me what you want, love, y’might just get it.”

his neck cranes from his spot kneeling at your feet before he’s letting the point of his ever-so-slightly crooked nose run over your thigh. “need you, baby, anything. i’ll take anything.”

you can see the tears in his eyes sparkle brighter n it almost has your chest puffing out, heart fluttering against your ribs. your eyes take in his pretty features as you pull your lip between the pearls of your teeth.

his heart jumps when he feels your fingers tighten, tighten to the point where he’s nearly feeling the pulse that lies beneath ‘em, the racing of your heart. he knows what’s coming n it has his cock drawing up in his unbuttoned jeans.

your hand draws up, fingers coming down in soft pats against the fat of his soft cheek, the skin bouncing back at your fingers. “anything?now that’s not gonna cut it, baby.” the words fall from your lips in a whisper so quiet he almost misses it.

johnny’s fingers ball up against his back, knuckles going white at how hard he fists his hands. his adam’s apple bobs in a anxious swallow, neck arching to look up at you solely.

your hand raises, the silence in the air cracking in a whistle as your fingers strike down against his cheek in a white, hot burning sting.

johnny’s head falls back, face scrunching n lips curling back against his teeth as he hisses out. the pain zings his nerves, back bowing as his cock practically takes the hit, stomach purring in a knotting need for you. his fingers tap against the carpet, the rope nearly becoming far too much, he needs to get his hands on you, drag his nails into your skin. he’s nearly losing his mind, high off you.

“answer the question, hon. can’t give you what you want if you ain’t tell me.” you tsk softly pressing your fingers down into the thumping skin of his cheek as the after burn hits. “don’t make this hard, johnny, i’ll have you up all fuckin’ night.”

[witchthewriter]

Hello ! Do you write for the men of COD ? If yes, can I request a random relationship headcanons for Price please ?

Yes I write for the COD men; I've got a few things already published. Here's a mini masterlist:

Call of Duty Soulmate Quiz

Random Relationship Headcanons w/ the COD men (including Price)

Gaz Character Profile

The Task Force & Their HOTD Dragons

The COD men as Character Archetypes

Text Stories w/ Husband Price

More COD text stories

Text Stories w/ Husband Soap | 2 |

Text Stories w/ Boyfriend Konig | 2 |

Text Stories w/ Husband Simon

Random Relationship Headcanons w/ the COD men (Simon and Konig)

[deunmiu-dessie-sideblog]

johnny's eyes never leave you, his dark gaze following your every move with an intensity that borders on obsession. the feel of your touch, the smell of your perfume, the mere sight of you, is all he craves.

in his twisted mind, you are the key to his happiness, the only one who can fill the void within him. every moment that passes, johnny's mind is consumed by visions of a life with you, where you’re lives are forever entwined.

his love for you is all-consuming, devouring him from the inside out. he yearns to be by your side, to share in your joys and griefs, to be the one you turn to for comfort. the one who owns your love. his commitment to you is unwavering, his devotion unbreakable.

he dreams of a future where you are his everything, where you love him back, where you know he exists. his love for you teeters on the brink of insanity, a love that recognizes no limits. you are his infatuation, his possession, and he will go to any lengths to make you his own. even murder.

[ghouljams]

MOON AND SOAP FINDING EACH OTHER IN EVERY UNIVERSE MOON AND SOAP FINDING EACH OTHER IN EVERY UNIVERSE *SHAKING YOU AFFECTIONATELY) MOON IM BEGGING GIVE FAE!SOAP A RUN FOR HIS MONEY BUT ALSO KISS HIM

I'm so stuck on these two... cw: reader description(I don't know how else to describe it but the pov character has had their eye color stolen, that's it)

Soap folds his arms against the bar, and leans to rest his head on them. It's late, too late really to still be at the bar. The rest of the 141 has gone, eager to get home to whatever they have waiting for them. Normally Soap isn't a jealous man, but since he saw you the thought of going home to an empty house has felt... vacuous. A hole in his life he can't fill. His heart flutters when you look his way. Your eyes skirt around the mostly empty bar, the lingering patrons still milling about are the same men as him. Souls eager to avoid whatever is waiting for them outside the bar.

Something celestial Price had said.

You could certainly give the moon and stars a run for their money with how pretty you are. There's something twinkly in your eyes that can't just be the lights, something that studies him, looks through him. Not a seer, not a fae, he doesn't know what you are. His teeth itch to sink into you. He clenches his hands, too eager to dig into you and see if he can find the center. He'd rip open your ribs and crawl inside searching for the answers to his questions. Where'd you come from? What do you want? What can he do, how can he love you? Why won't you give him the time of day?

"Last call," You tell him. Soap hums, when he makes no move to order you shrug and move to the next customer.

"Can I order off menu?" He asks while you fix a drink for the man a few stools away.

"Kitchen's closed," You respond easily, "and all the girls've gone home."

"You're still 'ere," He grumbles.

"Not interested," You tell him, setting a drink in front of him. It smokes around the rim, a sprig of rosemary resting gently on the calm surface of whatever brown liquor you pulled for him.

Soap sits up to drag the glass closer, watches you place a few extra glasses on a tray and wander between the spare tables to distribute drinks. You grab empty glasses off tables, and knock your fingers against the light switch as Soap tips his unordered "last call" into his mouth. He nearly chokes on the bitter liquid as the lights flip from red to the soft glow of incandescents.

Your eyes are white. The only indication that your iris has stopped and your sclera has begun is a thin sliver of silver shadow. Fae touched, Soap thinks. He wonders what you traded it for, what you got in exchange, how pretty the color was to be enough for your debt... Like moons when they settle on him, unnerving in the best way. You make a shiver run down his spine. Not interested you'd said.

He'll change that.

[stoutpancakes]

Okay but chubby chaser! Johnny...

Chubby chaser! Johnny who spots you from across the bar and knows you're the one.

Chubby chaser! Johnny who drinks in your curves, from your full breasts down to your pudgy tummy and wide hips.

Chubby chaser! Johnny whose pants get a little too tight just from the way your lips are moving as you talk to your friend.

Chubby chaser! Johnny who imagines you bent over with the jiggle of your ass as he thrusts into you.

Chubby chaser! Johnny who is dying to suckle at your breasts, knowing very well he can treat you just right.

Chubby chaser! Johnny who just has to muster up the courage to go and talk to a beauty such as yourself.

[call-of-duty-incorrect-quotes]

Texting the TF141.

Soap: Hello, I’m sorry for the late notice but I cannot find the specific outfit I imagined myself in for this mission and thus can no longer deploy with you all.

Soap: Many thanks.

Price: Simon, get him.

Ghost: Already on my way.

Soap: Wait. No!

[suvidrache]

Hand Holding

age in bio when interacting. minors do not interact.

Word Count: 168 | Read it on AO3 | Tag List

There were many things you wanted to do with him. Holding his hand was only one of them. You looked at him, admiring him for only a moment before you looked away. You didn't want him to catch you staring.

You looked over at him again. He was lost in a conversation with someone else. You reached your hand out to him, and your fingers brushed against his hand. You made a mistake; you pulled your hand back, but Johnny had already grasped your hand. He continued his conversation with your hand in his. When he finished, he looked over at you and then down at your hands. He smiled while you felt your face heat up.

“I'm sorry.” 

“For what?”

“Holding your hand.”

“Don't be.” He simply said before continuing on. “Do you like me?”

You nodded. “Yes.” You said after finding the words.

“I like you, too.”

You smiled and looked away, attempting to hide your face.

“Do you want to go on a date?”

“Yes.”

© SUVIDRACHE — do not copy, translate, modify, or plagiarize my work. reblogs are appreciated!

Tag List: @whosdiab, @imagineherbrightskies, @eli-chris

[luasworks]

i just know one of the 141 guys sucks mad titties

don’t hate the player (me) hate the game (my thoughts)

[darth-mortem]

What's it like to have Death on your side?

[femalefemur]

The Illusion of Freedom: Epilogue

part one | part two | part three

It was early morning, the sun still rising in the sky and casting rays of pink and orange against the clouds. You were at the market behind the small bakery stall that you helped run, smiling at customers as they looked between the different cakes, pastries and breads, trying to decide which one they desired more. You greatly enjoyed your job as a baker’s apprentice, you liked being able to create with your hands, the feeling of dough beneath your palms and flour against your skin a comforting feeling. It also brought you joy to see your hard work enjoyed and bringing people happiness, it made you content to know you were filling their bellies.

“There you are, bonnie, little lamb” a voice pulled you out of your wandering thoughts.

Bright blue eyes and sharp teeth stared back at you as you found the owner of the voice amongst the patrons of your stall. His hair was unusual but kempt, slicked back slightly to keep strays from flying about and his voice was smooth and had a lilt that you couldn’t place.

“Sorry, have we met?” You smiled politely at the man while handing another customer their change for the pie they had purchased.

“In another life” he replied as he watched you carefully, three other men appearing beside him out of seemingly thin air.

[artez-000-zetra]

Soap doodles