#johnny soap mctavish x you

[shotmrmiller]

No one look at me as I think about cbf!johnny that two days ago wrecked you on your parent's couch, and now that you've given him your hand, he's taking your arm. Whenever he asks your parents if he can stay over, they don't mind, of course.

"Just keep the door open."

And that's exactly how he fucks you at night, with the door wide open. He'll have you on your knees on the floor with his belt in your mouth to muffle your whimpers and mewls. If he's feeling adventurous, he'll bully his cock into you on the bed, making it creak— maybe it'll wake your parents, maybe not. Now isn't that just exhilarating?

He'll coax an orgasm out of you with his mouth, flicking your swollen clit with his tongue and he'll slurp up your sweet nectar when you come. When your mom calls you both down for dinner, he'll look at her square in the eye as he says, "I willnae be havin' too much, I had dessert first." You'll refuse to look up from your plate.

Johnny will persuade you to let him record you from behind, as his thick length splits you wide open. "Such a pretty pussy, bonnie, s'like ye were made fer me, hm?" His large, calloused hand will push you into your plush rug— spine curved into an exquisite arch— and fuck you until you can't even think. By the time your gummy, puffy walls start to flutter around him, he'll press a saliva-slick thumb on the tight ring of your arse, and you'll shatter and milk his cock for all he's worth. He'll tell you to push out his cum, that he wants to see it dribble out— flow from your abused hole to your sensitive clit. With a last, gentle drag of his fingers over your pussy, he'll stop the recording, and help you put your sleeping shorts back on.

Once he hears your breathing even out, he'll pick up his phone and rewatch the video, before sending it to Simon. He knows Simon hasn't had a woman in his bed in years, and Johnny is benevolent—he'd be more than willing to share some of the love with LT.

how did i end up here?

[ivyjupiterwrites]

[obsessedduh]

can you imagine Simon 'Ghost' Riley who's made you cum multiple times in one night by eating out your cunt while you sit on John 'Soap' Mactavish's lap.

Simon's so mean about it too! :(

you tell him to go faster, he'll deliberately go slower. you tell him to go slower, he'll go faster. you tell him to be gentle, he'll be rougher. you tell him to be rougher, he'll be more gentle.

you squirm and tug on Simon's hair, relentless to his - what seems like - endless torture on your pussy. Johnny tries to convince Simon to be more easy on you because Simon just ends up, telling him him to shut up or he'll end up the same way as you.

Johnny shuts up almost immediately as Simon looks up at him with a deadpan expression that shows him that he's dead serious, your slick and juices covered his mouth.

all he can do is rub soft circles into your thighs, kiss your neck, cheeks, face, whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you moan, eyebrows furrowed as begin to you arch your back, your head rested on Johnny's shoulder.

Simon's watches you with a grin, curling his tongue into that spongy spot that makes you feel like putty in Johnny's lap, your eyes roll to the back of your head and Simon's tongue swirls around in your pussy, admiring the taste. Johnny just stares at the pleasure etched on your face and places a wet kiss on your lips.

Johnny's hand reaches down to rub your clit, helping you with your approaching orgasm and with Johnny teasing your clit with his fingers and Simon tongue teasing your cunt. you cum painfully but pleasurablely hard and tears prickle in your eyes. overstimulation taking over as you slouch on Johnny's lap a bit.

"hope ya don't think this is over, swee'heart..." you whine weakly on repsone

"Simon, please be more gentle, i mean jus' look at her, she looks like she's abou' ter' fain'."

"and if you don't shut up, you'll end up the same."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

wanna know more about me —> here

masterlist —> here

[ltbunny]

Soap grabs ur belly like a dog with its favourite chew toy, especially after a long day, holy shit, he will not let go. When you're lying down and he can climb on the bed and rest his head on your tummy, he feels like he's floating, don't let him stay for too long though, cause he will genuinely start gnawing on it.

"johnny, what are you doing. stop it."

"zzzzzzz"

"I can feel you biting, you little rat, don't try and act like you're sleeping!"

[esteljune]

I was thinking about Johnny's scent. I don't think he wears any cologne. If you get close to his neck, right where his beard ends and his hairline begins, and you inhale just slightly, making him shiver, you'll smell a faint scent of pine mixed with industrial soap and a vague hint of tobacco. You don't know why, but it reminds you of the smell of the sun, salt water, and the sea breeze sweeping over rocky green hills.

When Soap comes home from deployment, his natural scent will be mixed with a faint aroma of jet fuel and the disinfectant he used on his new wounds to keep you from worrying.

The best way to enjoy Sergeant John MacTavish, however, is when he's standing in front of you, captivated as you slowly remove his t-shirt, revealing his broad, muscular chest. If you get close enough to make him blush, your fingers tracing the hot muscles, every scar, every fresh scratch, and his chest expanding like a bellows at your touch, you can smell his scent so strong it makes you dizzy.

That scent of sun mixed with the slightly acrid sweetness of sweat. In a kiss, when his tongue searches for yours and you let yourself go, you'll discover how intoxicating his taste can be. A bit too much scotch from the night before, that cigarette he smoked nervously before meeting you, and the coffee you made for him when he walked through the door.

[killerpancakeburger]

Bluebeard's wife

SUMMARY: On a visit to your boyfriend, you end up having to deal with a creep on base, but Soap and Ghost's methods of resolving your problem are... far more drastic than yours.

PAIRING: Soap x f!Reader (and BFF!Ghost)

TAGS: Dark content, Badass!Reader, Established relationship, Dark! a bit yandere! Soap, Dark! a bit yandere! Ghost.

WARNINGS: Canon violence, blood mention, sexual harassment, insults. Soap and Ghost are acting creepy but not towards Reader.

WORDS COUNT: 1,1k words.

A/N: Was thinking about how high the risks of sexual assault are in the military for women + about how much the Task Force could get away with (Soap's mohawk is NOT standard issue lol), but it turned out kinda dark. Not my usual kind of content. This is my first time writting those characters, pls be indulgent.

Your elbow connects with the man’s nose with a satisfying crack.

Immediately he howls, pressing his broken nose with one hand, blood dripping between his fingers.

“FUCK! What the fuck! You broke my nose, you crazy bitch!”

This. This is why you didn’t want to meet the Task Force on base. There was always one brainless fucker who didn’t get the memo that, no, despite having breasts, you weren’t here as a comfort woman.

The private is glaring at you with a hatred as deep as it is sudden, one that screams murder.

The only good side of the situation is, with how loud he’s being, you won’t even need to call for help. Already most of the soldiers nearby are staring at you, muttering among themselves. Not that you can’t beat this guy up on your own, but the military tends to frown upon civilians roughing up their members, you learned it at your expense quite early. On the other hand, soldiers settling accounts between each other was… well, not exactly authorized, but it was way less trouble for you.

He grabs you by the collar, his rage only exacerbated by your composure. The action stains your clothing with his blood. You mentally grimace. You’re no stranger to blood, but the idea of this repulsive individual’s bodily fluids being anywhere on your person is disgusting. 

“Are you listening, you dumb bitch!? I’m gonna fucking kill-”

The venom-filled verbal onslaught stops dead as a hand takes hold of your assailant’s wrist.

“Now, now, at ease, soldier. Ya making a spectacle of yourself.”

The thickly accented voice of your boyfriend sends a wave of warmth in your chest. 

Your harasser hesitates a second too long, so Soap makes the decision for him, tightening his grasp until the soldier winces, and finally takes the hint, letting you go and taking a few steps backward. Johnny immediately positions himself between the two of you, shielding you.

He’s been smiling the whole time, but it’s the kind of dangerous smile you wear when you’re about to give an asshole a righteous beating.

The private looks partially sheepish, but not defeated, indignation burning in his eyes. He lets loose a torrent of justifications and excuses, actively painting you as the villain, not caring if he contradicts himself in the process. You don’t pay attention to the details of his speech. It’s always the same “she was asking for it” kind of diatribe. The fact that he sincerely believes that there’s a chance that Soap will take his side instead of yours is laughable, but not surprising. 

You wonder how long this will go on, until the private notices something next to you, and all blood seems to desert his face as his voice deserts his vocal cords. 

You turn your head and, to no surprise to you, Ghost is there. He stands so close to you that your arms are almost touching. Clothed entirely in black, which brings out the white skull on his mask, his presence is as menacing as ever; all he needs to do is scowl at lesser soldiers to make them cower in fear. He doesn’t look back at you, but his support for you is so obvious through the rest of his behavior that he doesn’t need to.

Soap takes advantage of the newfound silence to turn to you.

“Ya good, yeah?” He asks, cradling your cheek tenderly, and stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. 

The question is futile - if you were hurt, he would have noticed right away. But it’s still cute to see.

“Yeah. Not a scratch.” you smile.

“That’s my girl”, he smiles back. “So, what the bloody hell happened here?”

You glance at the private behind him. He’s shaking, and the look he sends you back is begging for mercy. Remembering the first words he addressed to you earlier, you realize you’re all out of mercy for today. Thus, with a sadistic little smile, you recount the events.

“This man came to me complaining that I was unfairly privileging Sergeant Mctavish and that he wanted his turn. Then when I explained that I wasn’t some kind of free-for-all buffet, he took it the wrong way and put his hands on me. That’s when I exploded his nose.”

By the time you finish your explanation, Soap’s expression has darkened considerably.

“I see.” is all that leaves his mouth. Anyone familiar with him would know that for him to start talking by monosyllables like Ghost, something must be very wrong.

Pivoting again, he faces the private and, as the latter opens his mouth to plead for forgiveness, punches him right in the face. Blood gushes, drops of it landing on his face. You mentally count until three, one for every blow, and when Soap still doesn’t stop punching, you frown, disturbed and worried by his conduct. He’s never been one to remain impassive in the face of injustice, easily riled-up even in critical situations and despite his superiors’ orders, but you’ve never seen him go this far. 

You’re about to intervene when Ghost beats you to it, putting a hand on his sergeant’s shoulder. That’s right. Ghost, the voice of reason, the paragon of self-control, their cold-hearted leader, will fix everything.

However when you hear the next words that leave his mouth, it’s like the world tilted on its axis.

“Not out in the open, Johnny.”

The words are whispered low enough that only Soap and you would have heard. They send a cold shiver down your spine. Rattled and unsettled in a way that they never made you feel before, you contemplate the situation in silent incredulity.

“Aye, L.T.”, replies Soap with an abnormally monotonous tone.

Before you can ask what the fuck is happening, he proceeds to punch the soldier so hard in the stomach that the latter collapses without a sound, except for the muffled noise of someone winded. The scene makes you increasingly uncomfortable. You feel like Bluebeard's newest wife, having stumbled upon the one room you were forbidden from entering, having witnessed something you weren't supposed to see, and now you can never go back to how things were before.

You counted on Soap and Ghost’s intervention, sure, but you expected them to put an end to the fight, maybe intimidate the guy a little, and ultimately end things here. You didn’t expect… whatever this is.

Staring in shock at the two Special Forces, you shake your head to get a grip and come closer.

“Alright guys, I think he’s had enough-”

Ghost interrupts you with a hand on your shoulder. The Ghost touching two people in less than five minutes? Yes, something’s seriously wrong. Looking at him, you try to convey urgency with your gaze…

“Simon, this isn’t-” 

…but his next words make you lose hope of winning this argument.

“Easy there, love. Johnny’s takin’ care of it, ya don’t need to worry ‘bout a thing.”

The next thing you know, he presses a hand against your lower back, making you leave the premises, completely ignoring the way you stare at him in utter disbelief… and growing apprehension. 

He had never called you “love” before.

[simonrillleyyysss]

soap w crybaby reader?? i feel like he would be so sweet and gentle n he would try to make her laugh n smile when she got sad or scared :(((

soso cute :((

mactavish adores you. no words, even if you weren’t as sensitive as you are—he’d be head over heels, but his little darling being all timid and meek around him? sniffling if he says something in a louder tone?

it’s an ego thing, basically; not in a toxic way, but the fact his baby trusts him tae not do anything bad? and makes him seem (somehow) more masculine? he’s giddy, able to brag that he takes care of you!!

he’s so careful with you too, he always makes sure to word everything carefully and with a calm tone, hates when you get upset :( and hates when he’s the cause of it too!! makes him and you feel so bad, if he does, potentially, somehow upset you—he’s burying your face in his chest and shushing you :(!!

“s’okay, m’so sorry lass..jest’ got stressed.”

mactavish never lets anyone step over you, if one of the girls yer out with makes a slightly menacing comment and you ring him to lift you?? you best bet he’s shoving you in the car and scolding her to death, would never let yknow—though there would be signs!

he knows his sensitivite you are, so he always has tissues on-hand; if yer watching a movie and a dog gets hurt? you’re breaking into sobs and letting his hand caress your cheek, his lips brushing the tears away as he consoled you!

“s’jest a movie, bonnie.”

“i know—but still!”

“yer’alright, so’s the wee doggie.”

can never take u to haunted houses!! you scream and burst into a fit of tears, even puking on the floor one year—if you do both goto one, he’s covering your eyes n dragging you through!!

makes sure you know he adores you, if you’re having a sad day, cramped up in bed? he knows it’s bad, especially since you struggle to regulate your sadness, he’s cuddling up beside you and kissing your head tenderly, fingers pumping in and out of your tight cunt as you sobbed into his chest(both from pleasure and frustration,) and cumming all your sadness away with tears rolling down ur eyes :((

[1-ker0sene-1]

Caregiver

MDNI, Straight up smut once again

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Reader

Selfish. He's being damn selfish. How can he help it? You were good. Too good for him, he knows that. But you're funny, the kind of funny that full on belly laughs at his jokes and grins at him even when he barely smiles at his worst ones. You're too understanding, he took the job to take care of you- but when his head throbs and burns in pain, when he snaps into a thought of war, you're there with him to keep him centered. Fucks sake are you gorgeous. Beautiful in each sense of the word. Your eyes are burned into his brain. He has to stop himself from gripping on the soft flesh of your hips when he sees you. You're too soft, too warm, for a ruined man like himself.

So when you're sitting across from eachother at a cafe he drove you to, talking about another failed date of yours. It takes everything not to break the mug in his hands. Another idiot, you tell him all about, some dumb bastard that had no idea what he let slip away. Johnny won't let you slip away. No. Not any further. He's not a good man, but he can treat you like he is.

John MacTavish can be a patient man. Not with you.

He wasn't patient enough. Barely enough to get through the front door, cause now he's got you pressed into the mattress. Knees up against your chest, your warm, throbbing cunt squeezing his length. Watching your mouth fall open with babbling moans and gutteral whimpers. He leans down to shush them sweetly, pressing his open mouth to yours. Plunging his tongue into your mouth to claim it, grinding his hips hard into you. The scruff above his cock rubbing against your abused clit, making your pussy flutter on his size.

"Poor fuckin' thing.. poor wee bonnie.."

He coos.

"John-"

You cry into his mouth, he only grins. Kissing on the side of your face down to your neck.

"Aye I'll take care of ye.. Me. I will. Always do. Always fuckin' will."

His dog tags hanging from his neck, dangling down in the valley between your breasts. As they bounce softly from his rough thrusts. He sinks his teeth into the skin of your throat, growling against it.

"My lass. You'll be my lass. I'll provide- I'll take care of ye- I'll love ye- fuck I'm gonna marry ye hen-"

You're gripping him tight, not just your pretty slit either. Your nails drag down his back, tears in your eyes as you shiver from overstimulation. Fuck. You've already came twice since you both started. He needs more, more of you.

"Ye have to tell me. Tell me ye want this. Tell me you'll let me have ye- I need ye-"

John is begging you like a dog, forehead pressed to yours. Tears just barely starting in his own eyes, drunk on the way your walls tighten around him. On the way your skin feels against his. He is not a good man, he can love you like one, but he can't fuck you like one.

"Yes- yes please."

You confirm, nodding instantly. Craning your head up to brush your lips against his, he leans down to meet you half way. He crumples against you with relief, his full weight pressing you down to the bed. Still pounding into you. He presses his lips to your temple, kissing it tenderly as he bullies your cervix with his cock.

"Fuckin' finally."

[shotmrmiller]

A/N: I simply had to join on writing for John 'just the tip' MacTavish so. Here goes. Unedited, its horny its explicit yall know the deal. It was supposed to be a drabble and i got completely carried away. got me out the writing slump tho. any mistakes please ignore. CBF!Johnny because I say so.

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader

WC: 1.6K

Flipping through Netflix, you hear a rapt at the door. You turn to look at your dad, who gets up quickly as if expecting someone. 

“Johnny, my boy! I’m glad you could make it! Had me thinking you forgot all about us. Come on in!” Your dad pulls Johnny in for an affectionate embrace that he returns immediately.

“Och, yer aff yer heid! As if I could ever forget my second family!” Giving your dad a final pat on the back, Johnny steps back. “Now where’s my girl?” 

Lifting the hand holding the remote, you call out. “Present!” 

Johnny almost trips over the coffee table, rushing to you. He doesn’t wait for you to stand up, just snatches your wrist and lifts you for a hug— your socked feet dangling by his shins. With his strong arms wrapped around you, he pulls you close, nuzzling his face against your neck. “Missed ye, bonnie,” he murmurs, “missed ye so much.” 

As you exhale a wheezy breath, you tell him, “I love you too, Johnny, but I can’t breathe.” One last squeeze, and a squealed “Johnny!” he finally relents, setting you down. 

Hands resting on your shoulders, his striking blue eyes lock onto your face, flicking across your features, as if he was re-memorizing what you look like. His intense gaze rushes blood to your cheeks, but don’t shrink under it. It wouldn’t be the first time your best friend teases you like this. “Somethin’ on my face, Johnny boy?” and bat your lashes at him, “I know I’m staggering to look at, but now you’re just being shameless.” 

He lets out a huff, a small smirk gracing his lips, and mumbles, “Don’t I know it.” Your taunting smile falls off your face at that. What? Before you can even ask him what he means by that, your dad calls him into the kitchen. 

“Johnny! Come get a beer, it’s about to be movie time!” Without breaking eye contact, he answers him, “Aye! Comin’!’ and with a finger tap to the underside of your chin, walks away. Heart pounding against your chest, you head towards your bedroom to get a blanket, hoping the little walk calms the butterflies in your stomach. 

What?

The movie is playing, and Johnny is curled up behind you on the reclined sofa, roughened palm resting on your thigh, occasionally squeezing it. You’re mortified at the slight arousal you’re feeling just at being caressed by Johnny. Johnny. Your best friend. Who has consistently had girlfriends, who will never look at you that way. You’ve never thought of him that way either, granted, but that’s what makes this so embarrassing. Maybe you’re ovulating, biology simply reacting in the presence of a virile male, or something. 

And then you feel the unmistakable bulge of his stiffening cock, faintly pressing against your arse. Gods. Heat radiating off of your face, you bite your lip and try to discreetly wiggle away, for his sake and yours. However, Johnny seems to disagree with your thoughts because he moves his hand from your thigh to grab your hips in a bruising grip, fingers digging into your hipbones, forcing you to be still.

He leans into your ear, warm breath tickling your cheek and softly whispers, “Dinnae move, hen,” and sluggishly starts to rock his hips, erection now firmly rubbing against your sleeping shorts. Johnny’s movements are imperceptible, nonexistent underneath your blanket. Not that it would matter, because the movie is reaching its climax, and all eyes are glued to the screen.

But your mind is solely focused on Johnny— the heat of his hands scorching against your skin, his prominent length hidden underneath his pajama bottoms grinding on you. 

“Lift yer leg a wee bit, hen.” Keeping a watchful gaze on your parents, you silently plead that they won’t notice as you hide your compliance under the guise of trying to make yourself comfortable. Once settled, you lowered your leg and had to bite your tongue with force, to keep the moan from slithering out of your throat. 

His cock, bare, right in between your thighs. Like warm velvet wrapped around steel, thick, heavy, tip pushing against your core with every minute thrust. Johnny moves even closer, arm tight around your waist, hand sliding into your bottoms, heading straight towards your soaked, swollen clit to rub feather-light delectable circles on it.

“I’m gonna stick just the tip in, a’right? I swear,” he says in a hushed tone, as he pulls back to lower the waistband of your shorts to rest on your upper thighs, “just,” he thrusts once, “the”, again, “tip.” and his leaking head slips into your hole— pushing it in until your walls flutter around it. 

“Ye feel incredible, squeeze that tight pus—” your dripping cunt cuts him off, drawing out a hiss of surprise from him. His subdued voice in your ear is so seductive, so bewitching, that you can’t help but clench around him. 

For most of the movie, Johnny languidly thrusts into you, truly keeping to his word. Just the tip— teasing you, making you drip onto the sofa, muted squishy, gooey noises coming from under your blanket, and you couldn’t be bothered by any of it. Flared, ridged head catching on your slippery lips with every drag of his cock. You’re drooling on your hand that covers your mouth beneath the snug blanket— struggling to hold back the mewls and whimpers threatening to escape. 

All of a sudden, Johnny mutters, “The movie’s about ta end, close yer eyes and keep completely still. Stabilize and deepen yer breathin’, hen.” Without hesitation, you do as he says, body going limp in compliance, the only tell-tale sign of your excitability being the rapid pulsing of your jugular on the delicate skin of your neck. 

The TV is turned off, and the living room goes completely silent, apart from the deafening sound of blood rushing in your ears. Johnny behind you feigns quiet snoring, so believable that if it wasn’t for his throbbing cock still at your entrance, you’d think he actually fell asleep.

Your dad’s poor imitation of a whisper cuts through the quiet. 

“They’re asleep, let’s just leave them here.” Footsteps shuffle as they tip-toe around you both, and as they get farther away, Johnny slowly moves his hand to cover yours, truly weighing down on it. The instant their door clicks shut, he uses his other hand to pick up your leg and throw it over your shoulder, and thrusts hard, deep, until his bollocks are flush against your arse. Your nails claw at the hand over your mouth as you scream, your gummy walls stretching against his assault— a burn so exquisite, pleasure teetering on the edge of pain, achingly delicious, it sends tendrils of ecstasy directly into your veins.

He lets out a guttural moan, one only you could hear, private, intimate. “It’s about time ye let me have this sweet pussy, hen.” One vicious thrust that punches the air from your lungs and rattles the sofa, and then another, when he finally speaks again. “Fuck, we hae ta do this when we are nae restricted, hm?” His hips start a slow rhythm, long, unhurried undulating thrusts, and every time he bottoms out, he grinds his pubic bone on your clit, the tip of his cock giving your cervix a lewd kiss. Every time he reaches the entrance of your womb, it feels like he wants to go in further, to go past the dead end, and your cock drunk mind only thinks about how you want him to do it, too. 

“Yer slobberin’ all over my hand, hen. S’that good, is it? Oooh, I ken it is. Only the best fer my girl, hm?” He hisses through clenched teeth, “I’m fuckin’ close. Come f’me. I’m not comin’ until ye cover my cock with yer cream, leave a white ring at the base.” His hips have been moving at the same exact speed he started at, not a stutter in his pattern. As if him fucking you into a puddle of arousal wasn’t taxing on his part. 

Then he does something different, something that threatens to snap that coil in your lower tummy, and along with it your sanity. He starts giving shallow thrusts, never pulling out more than halfway, and makes sure to rub against your clit, giving you that heavenly friction you need. It has you delirious, fervent, and you start moving your own hips, uncaring of how you must look.

Johnny moves his thumb down to your nub, drawing tight, precise, merciless circles on it, and you are thrown over the edge— more like kicked off by a spartan kick from how gut-wrenching your orgasm is ripped from you. Your pleasure is so acute, so powerful that there are needle-like pricks on the shell of your ears. Your body shakes underneath Johnny, pussy throbbing and pulsing with the aftershocks of your blinding climax. 

Drool escapes under Johnny’s palm, dripping down your cheeks and into your hair as you fall back, going completely limp, utterly spent. Finally getting back some coherency, you realize that Johnny’s gone soft inside of you, also drained, as he catches his breath holding himself over you. He removes his hand, uncaring that it’s sticky with your spit, and noses your cheekbone, nudging you to slant his lips over yours, curling his tongue against yours. He swallows the pathetic mewl you let out and presses one final kiss onto your lips. 

“I’ve missed ye, hen. I’m so happy to be here, with ye. Let’s move to your bedroom, and in 10 minutes, I’ll give ye a proper fuckin’.” 

Your eyes close shut as you let out a resigned but elated sigh. 

“I love you too, Johnny.” 

@rookiesbookies and forgive the tag but i had you in mind too @brewed-pangolin ill never do it again unprompted

part 2

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Jealousy: cbf!soap x f!reader

Johnny hadn’t been happier since he had come to visit you at uni. Sure, being in the military was great, it was what he had hoped for and being taken right out of selections into the SAS had been a dream come true, but there was something about being with you that just made him ecstatic.

He had missed everything about you. Your smile, the way you laughed, the way you touched him. Talking to you over the phone hadn’t been enough, he needed to be with you in person.

He hadn’t left your side since he got there. He followed you everywhere you took him, even the mundane places like the library, he was just happy he was with you.

A couple days had already gone by and he felt at home again. Nothing could’ve brought him down…or so he thought.

You and Johnny were at a small house party. A couple of your friends were throwing and you wanted to go so naturally he tagged along.

Free booze and a chance to meet your other friends.

It was going well. He chatted and got along with your friends, much to your extreme delight, and though he did feel a little pang of hurt seeing how close you were with them, he was happy that you were happy.

But then he showed up.

“You’re Johnny?” Carter asked and he gave him a polite smile. “She talks about you nonstop.”

“It’s not that much.” You argued sheepishly but Johnny’s chest swelled with pride. You turned to Carter and gave him a playfully serious look. “And it’s John, to you. I’m the only one who gets to call him that.”

Johnny had been friendly with Carter at first, thought he was alright albeit a little on the fuck-boy side of things, but then he started interacting with you.

It started with the touches.

Carter first would leave little touches in your shoulders and arms, his hands lingering a little too long for Johnny’s liking. He tried not to get annoyed when he would hold you by the waist or when his hand would rest on your lower back but he couldn’t help but glare at him when his hand got a little close to your ass.

Luckily you pulled away but you were starting to get a little drunk, which meant you were having to lean on whoever you were near in order to not fall over.

Johnny began standing closer to you and though you engaged in conversation with him, Carter still kept his hands on you.

He kept his cool until Carter almost kissed you.

Johnny began to shake and he had to out every ounce of discipline he learned at basic training to keep his cool as he walked up to you.

“Hey, join me for a smoke.” It sounded more like a statement rather a question.

“You started smoking?” You gave him a concerned look but stepped away from Carter.

Johnny didn’t answer your question as he wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you from stumbling too bad. He pressed a quick kiss to your neck and gave your hip a squeeze as he glanced at Carter.

It was childish but he had to hide a smirk when he saw the dejected look in his eyes.

He was the only one who should be allowed to touch you this way. He had done it all your lives, why would anyone need to do it when he was right there to be the one to hold you and touch you when you wanted it?

“Really, you started smoking?” You pressed him further as he walked you both outside. “You can’t do that.”

“I don’t smoke that much.” He assured you, the chill air nipping his nose.

“Johnny…”

He gave you a smile when you pouted and brought you closer to him. He felt his heart swell when you melted into his chest, clearly drunk but still all too ready to fall into his arms like you always do.

“Truthfully, I wanted to get you here by myself.” He admitted and you raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t like that prick being all over ya.”

“Carter?” You sounded confused. “He’s just a friend.”

“Didn’t seem like it to me.”

You frowned and stood up straighter.

“He’s a friend.” You stated firmly.

“He was all over you! Touching you, acting like you were his.” He argued and you snorted.

“You do the same thing.”

Yeah, because I love you. Is what he wanted to say but he didn’t, instead he rolled his eyes and held your hips so you wouldn’t stumble away from him.

“I’ve known ya for longer than him, I’ve always been this way with you.” Johnny explained and you giggled, swaying slightly.

“You’re right.” You said absentmindedly. “He’s only like that because we made out once.”

Johnny felt his stomach drop.

“What?”

“Couple months ago at another house party we almost got blackout drunk and made out with each other. Total mistake on my part, I don’t like him like that but he thinks I do even when I’ve told him I don’t.”

The whole time he was listening to you drinking ramble on about this new information he thought two things: one, if Carter doesn’t back off from you even when you told him you weren’t interested he was going to end up with bloody knuckles and two, you made out with him.

Did that mean something? It obviously didn’t because you said it didn’t but what if it did? What if you had feelings for him you didn’t know and now…and now Johnny had lost his chance.

That’s what you get, he scolded himself, that’s what you get for being a coward, for thinking she’ll leave ya if you tell her.

But he couldn’t lose you. Not again.

“You didn’t think to tell me earlier?” He hid his pain behind a short laugh.

“Johnny, you’re my best friend but you’re also a man. I’m not going to tell you about me making out with a guy.” You laughed and he groaned.

“Still coulda told me.”

“No need to, I don’t like him like that.”

Johnny hummed. He tried not to feel hurt and awkward about the situation because he didn’t have a claim over you. You weren’t his, no matter how much he wished you were, he was your best friend and if you found somebody you loved then it was well within your right to pursue them, especially because he had never told you about his feelings.

He was caught off guard when you place a chaste kiss on his lips.

He stared at you with wide eyes, much like how the last time you two shared a kiss. He felt his face heat up and he was sure his cheeks were pink.

One look at you and it was easy to tell you were drunk. You had a strange look in your eyes as you stared at him, almost pleadingly, while you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Christ, he wanted to kiss you but you were drunk.

“Think it’s time we get you back to your dorm.” He mumbled and you frowned.

“Give me a kiss first.” You demanded playfully but he shook his head.

“You’re pissed, bonnie-“

“Kiss me, Johnny.”

He stared at you, his eyes flicking to your lips. He wanted to so badly, he wanted to taste you, to know what your lips felt like again after so many years. He wanted to kiss you until neither of you could breathe, until you realized that it was more than just friends messing around, that he truly wanted something more from you.

He almost did. He found himself holding your face and almost pressing his lips to yours before he pressed one to your forehead.

Not like this, he told himself.

When he pulled away you stared at him with an unreadable expression.

“Let’s go, bonnie.”

“Okay.”

A/n: tried to come up with like the most basic sounding name sorry to all the carters out there 😔

Tags: @elysian0612 @cassiecasluciluce @pepsicolacoochie @hayleybarnesx @tiredmetalenthusiast @misshoneypaper @sodavrr @ghostslittlegf @glitterypirateduck @comeonatmebruh @mandalover2023

[mactavishsgfandwife]

141 When They’re Sick

bilingual privilege is using your second language to scribble down notes for your tumblr fanfiction in class with the reassurance that no one else will be able to understand what you’re writing 😋 pure fluff (not proofread)

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish

soap has such man flu vibes

i just know he will have a little cold from never dressing appropriately for the english weather (he thinks he can tough it out) (he can’t) and then lays on the sofa for a week, miserable and constantly pining for your attention

he loves a cup of tea when he’s sick but he also swears that irn bru has magic restorative qualities, and "that’s how i keep m’physique, bonnie"

Johnny groans, rubbing his face with his palm as he lays stretched out over the sofa, his feet resting on one arm and a hot water bottle flopped lazily over his stomach. For the most part, the grunts and sighs seem genuine, but you could swear that he makes sure to emphasise his suffering when you walk past, just to let you know what a big strong boy he’s being for dealing with his sore throat and slight headache.

"Head hurts…" he groans, holding a forearm over his eyes to shield them from the light.

"I know, honey… you want a paracetamol?" you pat his head, trying to hide your little, sympathetic laugh.

"Nah, only just had one… Y’could gimme a kiss, though," he grinned up at you, his tone lightening a little.

"Ew! Stop, I don’t want your germs," you laugh, pulling your hand away from his hair.

"Aww, c’mon… might make me feel better," Johnny teases, sitting up a little (he wasn’t really that weak in the first place) and holds your wrist so you can’t escape. When you see the stupid, irritating grin on his face, you know you don’t really care about germs. You just want to kiss him.

Captain John Price

price, when he’s feeling ill, likes to be looked after - the number one cure for ANY of this man’s problems is a warm bath

he loves it when you act like a little housewife for him, running him a warm bath and bringing him a constant stream of cups of tea - sometimes he’ll pretend to be sicker than he is for a little longer than he has to just for a day or two more of being doted on by you. not that you don’t do that anyways.

but he’s a menace when you try to go off shopping or to work - he lays a strong, hairy arm over you, mumbling something about being sick and needing you to stay

if you massage his back and shoulders when he’s feeling sick, he will be so happy. it takes a little longer than when he rubs your back because there’s just more of him, with his broad shoulders and muscular dad-bod (yum)

You have John laying on his front, on the bed, arms crossed under his head. His hair is damp, getting the bedsheets a little wet beneath him, and he has a soft white towel wrapped loosely around his hips - he smells strangely like lavender (he definitely used your shower gel instead of his because yours is nicer - you pretend not to notice, as your hands gently move up and down his sore back).

He’s managed to come down with a bad cold the day after an intense workout, so his body is totally exhausted and nothing really appeals to him other than laying down. Being as fit as he is, you wouldn’t expect him to be in such a state, but the man needs a break and it’s plain to see.

The soft light from the nice-smelling candles that you’ve lit on the bedside table plays in his wet hair, which you gently comb your fingers through.

"You been using my products again, hmm?" you grin with a gentle tone, leaning in closer to him.

"Sorry love…" he starts to respond, his voice a little hoarse.

"It’s okay," you laugh softly, nuzzling your face into his back as you lower yourself on top of him, like a weighted blanket. Your soft hands wrap gently around his scarred sides, as little sighs of contentment leave your mouth.

"What happened to my back rub?" he teases, feeling your body laying against him. Still, he doesn’t a muscle to stop you from cuddling up to him.

As you keep quiet, enjoying the warmth of his body, he chuckles and pulls himself into a more comfortable position below you.

"That’s alright, sweetheart…" he replies to your silence.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

simon would try to be an unphased tough guy but he’d have little moments of weakness

he’d insist that he’s not that sick while taking paracetamol and drinking tea constantly, pulling you close to him as often as he can and being clingier than usual (he’s always touchy, but he is particularly reliant on you now)

he’s in a terrible mood, but just resting his head on your shoulder or holding you while you work helps him… better yet, he loves it when you’re sitting on the sofa and working on your laptop, or watching a film, and he gets to lay down with his head in your lap - with your soft fingers occasionally brushing through his short hair

he’s a tough guy, but when it’s just you and him, he can just lay down with his girl without worrying about being ghost. he’s just simon - poorly simon, with his sweet girlfriend taking care of him.

Phone in your hand, you quietly text your friend about her crazy ex boyfriend and the dress that she’s going to wear out tonight - the red one or the other red one, with the different neckline? You look up to the doorway to see a tall, tired man walk into the sitting room - 6’4", dressed in an old grey hoodie and a pair of pyjama bottoms, ruffling his hair and looking utterly exhausted.

"Thought you were asleep, Si…"

"Can’t sleep," he mumbles gruffly, silently moving towards you and finding a spot to lay his head - right in your lap, his feet resting on the opposite arm of your big sofa.

Understanding his fatigue, you sigh softly and stroke his head as it lays against you. His skin is pale, showing his sickness, and his eyes look tired and dry. A little groan escapes his lips as he shuffles on the sofa, trying to make himself comfortable.

"Love you, darling…" he whispers softly, his eyes shutting in preparation to finally sleep.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick

i feel like kyle’s love language is food

if you make that man a curry or a good spag bol, he will secretly be making plans to propose to you as he eats it

and that’s all the more true when he’s ill or tired out - some comfort food home cooked by you would mean the world

Gaz had a bad cold and had been hibernating in bed all day, mostly asleep but occasionally watching the football or texting Soap to complain about how sick he is. As you walked into the room, brandishing a bowl of spaghetti carbonara, his eyes lit up.

"Hey, what’s this?" he grins, his voice a little hoarse.

"Carbonara. For you," you chuckle, placing it down on his bedside table, "I have some work stuff to finish, I-"

"Y’could just stay with me instead. I’ve been locked up in here all day," he teases.

"You’ve been asleep all day! I really need to… well…"

"Come on, baby."

You struggle to hide the grin that’s creeping onto your face, not wanting to procrastinate your work any longer (this wasn’t the first time Kyle has stolen you away from typing up emails) but he got what he wanted when, a moment later, you were cuddled up to him. Wearing his tshirt and your underwear, with your head resting on his shoulder.

"Oh my God, this is so good!" he chuckles, eating, voice still strained from the sore throat. He’s mostly just happy to have you next to him (oh, as well as the pasta).

gaz is my babyyyyyyy i don’t think you guys get it 😣😣😣 this took an age and a half to write i hope it’s up to standard thanks for reading!! xx

[obsessedduh]

Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish who i am convinced is the messiest pussy eater ever. the way he place soft gentle kisses on your inner thighs, teasing you, making you beg and whine so desperate for his tongue and how could he resist? his sweet girl. in desperate need. practically begging for his tongue? yeah, he couldn’t resist.

he rushed to dip his tongue in between your folds, lapping up all your delicious juices made for him, you were writhing and moaning so much he had to force your thighs down. you looked down to see his half lidded eyes looking up at you as his tongue flicked against your clit, your pussy was covered in his spit and your juices, his face was also covered in them. normal people would be disgusted but you, that just fueled your arousal more.

you moaned his name as soon as you felt his finger slip into your wet hole, his tongue circling your clit over and over again and his finger just added to the never-ending pleasure. it felt so good, you were already on the brink of your orgasm. the core in your stomach tightening as he thrusted another finger into your cunt. you were sure that you felt that you were on the moon now, the way his fingers curled into your g-spot and the feeling of his lips and tongue bullying your clit felt so good until the point your core wasn't tight anymore and your cum was all over Johnny's face, tongue and fingers.

he grinned and a soft kiss was placed against your pussy lips, making you whimler from the slight overstimulation. he pulled away from your pussy, slipping his fingers into his mouth and sucked your juices off of it.

'Yer' did s'good fer' me luv'

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

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[agoofyannoyancetolaw]

goofy sex with Soap. Like when slipping out sometimes it will make a noise that kinda sounds like a toot💀 I imagine him staring then busting out laughing.

a/n: this is truly adorable. (Unlike my snake who’s not adorable today because he CHILLED WITH THE MOUSE HE WAS GONNA EAT. LIKE THEY JUST SAT THERE)

Minors DNI

Soap who forgot to lock the door while to busy flirting with you and it slams randomly because of the wind while he’s prepping you with his fingers

Soap who’s wrist pops loudly by accident while his padded and calloused fingers were working you open, a little chuckle escaping him

Soap who can’t help but just beg to be inside you because he’s so so so pent up (and doesn’t wanna finish in his pants just by looking at you too long like this)

Soap who accidentally pulled out one cm too far when he was about to slam back into you, causing you to chuckle as he had to re-line up his member

Soap who’s legs get sore and his arms all stiff from holding you bent in half the whole time on the bed

Soap who had to pull out to answer the insistent knocking on the door with a frown

Soap who cuddles up to you after and chuckles at how much he loves you

[saturncodedstarlette]

Y/N, trying to stop blood flowing out :

Y/N, in a panicked yet comforting tone : I promise, Johnny. I’ll take you home.

Soap, weakly smiling : My love——

Soap, pressing your hand to his heart : I am already home.

[iloveoldermen-posts]

Hi. I recently came across your headcanon about the reader and ghost at the bar. With a man hitting on you. What if you did that opposite where a girl is flirting with him?

EEEEEK I LOVE THIS IDEA

For some reason the reader in this gives or black cat energy but I did try and keep it as ambiguous as possible!

Simon 'Ghost' Riley He would be so uncomfortable and just randomly get up and stand next to you, whispering in his ear how much he loves you and no girl will ever match your level.

'Captain' John Price The girl had the audacity to come over when you were right next to Price. John could sense your anger and patted his lap for you to sit there. Causing the girl to scoff and walk away, eliciting a giggle from you.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick Would happen when yous are playing pool. You would roll your eyes and purposely lose your round, so that when it's your turn again, you ask Gaz to 'teach' you how to play. Causing you to pratically grind on him.

Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish The second another girl starts talking to him, he starts staring at you waiting for you to notice. When you do, you walk over offer the girl a petty smile and give Soap a big ole kiss.

König You see it immediately, the model like girl flirting with him. You continuously glare at the girl until you are standing next to him and you wrap an arm around his waist. He replies by looking down at you, 100% supporting a grin behind his mask due to your obvious jealousy.

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