#reverse soap

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

HEAR ME OUT

Let's Get Physical series

pt.2

I need hooker!Soap but with a shy college student who needs help with her physics assignment. She can't go to her professor (he's a dick), and she doesn't really have friends and doesn't wanna seem like an idiot for needing help.

She somehow hears about Soap and hears how he used to be a sniper and demolition expert. That means he knows math and physics, right? There's a confidentiality rule, right? She buys one hour, and when he walks in, he thinks it's just the usual. But she's got her too heavy backpack with some books and worksheets. Okay, so she has a schoolgirl fantasy, easy enough. Except she starts rambling about how she needs help, and her assignment is due soon, and she's stuck. Okay, so she's deep in the fantasy, alright.

She explains she doesn't want sex. She just actually needs help. She knows he knows this shit, and she has no one else to go to. He's slightly baffled, considering most people just get straight into jumping his bones. But no. It's just a shy little thing that needs an A on her physics assignment.

Well, she already paid for the hour, and she's so pretty all flustered like that, who is he to turn her away? Show him the page, hen.

[writewithmiaaa]

Poly!141 X female reader

Title: Shadows in the fog

Pairings: Poly 141 X reader

Warnings: Poly relationship, Typical COD violence (reader gets shot), descriptions of blood/wounds, canon typical COD stuff:)

Summary: The 141 and female reader (call sign: Viper) are on a mission. But what will happen when it all goes wrong?

Type: Angst💔

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The night was dense with fog, the kind that clung to your skin and turned every breath into a veil of chill. Task Force 141 had been sent deep into hostile territory, their mission clear: retrieve critical intel and get out. You were embedded with them, a vital part of the team. Captain Price led the way, his presence a solid reassurance in the murk. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz moved like shadows, each step calculated, every sound absorbed by the oppressive darkness.

You had the rear, scanning for any sign of threat, nerves on edge. Suddenly, the crack of a gunshot shattered the silence. Then the force of the bullet slamming into your side. Pain exploded through your body, and you fell to the ground, gasping for air. The world started to spin, edges blurring as you struggled to stay conscious. How had it happened so quick? Where were they? Why had nobody noticed?

"Man down!" Gaz's voice cut through the haze, urgency sharp in his tone.

Price was at your side in an instant, his eyes fierce with determination. "We've got you Viper, stay with us," he commanded, pressing his hands against the growing wound on your stomach to staunch the bleeding.

More shots wrung out as Ghost and Soap take out the last of the enemies in the area. They flank you, their eyes scanning the perimeter for the shooter. "Oi! Soap, cover us! Ghost, get her ready for exfil!" Price barked, his voice a lifeline in the chaos.

Soap moved to cover, his weapon ready, eyes cold and focused. Ghost knelt beside you, his normally stoic mask cracking with worry. "Hold on, love," he murmured, his voice soft enough that only you could hear. "We're getting you out of here." He grabbed your arm, keeping you stable. He promised you he’d protect you. And he failed.

When you looked down, you groaned. “Fucking ‘ell thats a lot of blood.” Your hands were painted a sickly crimson red from pressuring the wound.

Your vision darkened, the pain becoming a distant throb. Though, you could just make out Ghosts eyes behind the mask, a mixture of fear and protectiveness.

Gaz returned, his face grim. “LZ is hot, but it’s the only way. We need to move now.”

Price lifted you with a grunt, the pain sparking fresh agony through your body. “Stay with me viper.”

Each step was a struggle, every movement a battle against the encroaching darkness. You could feel your strength ebbing away, the world becoming a distant echo. Ghost’s hand remained on your arm, his touch a constant reassurance.

Soap and Gaz took point, their movements precise, deadly even. Every shot was more accurate than the last, determined to get you home safe, a vow to get you home alive. Price’s jaw clenched as they reached the exfil, his jaw set in determination.

Finally, the helicopter loomed ahead, a beacon in the night sky. They hustled you inside, the roar of blades a deafening epiphany. Yet you couldn’t hear them. You couldn’t hear anything.

Your consciousness continued to dip, vision turning blacker than the world outside. Ghost continued to grip your arm, keeping you stable. “You’re going to make it Viper, not long now. We can’t lose you.” You heard the underlying message. He couldn’t lose you.

The others hung nearby, their eyes never leaving your face. Soap and Gaz took defensive positions, their focus split between the enemies and their fallen girl.

The two medics onboard worked frantically, but you could feel yourself slipping further. “Oi, stay with us Viper!” Ghost muttered once he saw your eyes begin to roll back.

The last thing you saw before the darkness claimed you was their faces, a mixture of love and worry. The group showed raw, clear emotion. Ghosts deadly grip on your arm, Price’s intense gaze, Soap’s protective stance and Gaz’s unwavering focus. You knew you were in safe hands.

And so you shut your eyes.

In the days that followed, you drifted in and out of consciousness, the pain a constant reminder of the hardships of your job. Save the world, and sacrifice yourself whilst doing so. However, your stomach was beginning to heal. Not without a nasty scar though.

Every time you opened your eyes, you saw atleast one of them there. A constant companion. They never left you, a constant reminder of the unbreakable bond you had all formed.

[phosphoracat]

The Love You Want

cw: none for now || mistrust, johnny being a flirt, ghost lowkey setting this up knowing the consequences, birthday trope

She hates when he leaves.

Ghost had been deployed for months before being allowed to return, and a mere two days later, he was called back to service. All Ghost had told her was “a while” when she'd asked how long he'd be gone this time; every time Ghost was deployed, they argued. She couldn't help herself- he was always gone for so long and it always hurt her, not because he was leaving due to his job, but because she'd be alone once more.

Previously, she'd told Ghost it was fine that he was deployed, that he'd be gone for extended periods of time, but over time it really started to bother her. Thus, leading to the current situation.

A knock sounded on the door of their apartment, and peeping through the hole, she saw a man standing there with flowers, chocolates, and a ridiculous mohawk. She debated on leaving him there and sneaking away from the door quietly, but her phone vibrated in her pocket, and a quick check proved it was Ghost.

‘Happy birthday, love’

She reluctantly unlocked the deadbolts and the extra locks on the door before slowly opening it, peering at the other man, on guard. “Can I help you?” she asked softly, fingers curling around the pepper spray hanging behind the door for situations such as these.

“Aye, lass,” came his deep, gravelly voice, as if he growled the words. “Ghost sent me. Said ya get lonely, and wanted to give ya a present for yer birthday.”

She narrowed her eyes a little, obviously not trusting this man. “I don't know who Ghost is,” she replied with practiced precision, well-trained by Ghost within the first few months of their relationship to lie when someone mentioned him or asked for him.

The man just huffed a laugh, nervous, shifting on his feet. “O'course ya do. Big scary bastard in the special forces. Simon Riley. Spooky fucker that wears a mask.”

Just then, before she could proceed to lie further, her phone started vibrating like crazy. Keeping an eye on the man at the door, she checked her phone- Ghost, naturally.

‘Let him in, dove’

‘It's just Johnny’

‘I sent him’

‘Baby, let him in, it's alright’

She heaved a sigh before pocketing her phone and shutting the door to fully unlock it, the chain removed from its slot, and reopening the door to ‘Johnny’. “Come in,” she sighed, placing her full trust in Ghost and turning her back to the Scottish man to start making herself and him a cup of coffee.

She can hear Johnny moving behind her, hyper-vigilant to his every move, tracking the sounds of his footsteps and even the way he breathed. Ghost had instilled this kind of panic, this kind of mistrust in her early on into their relationship, reinforcing it over the past few years. Hell, he praised her for it.

She listened as Johnny set the flowers on the kitchen counter behind her, as he set the chocolates beside it… and another item that she had no idea he even had. She only turned when coffee was in both mugs, making hers the way she liked it, offering it to Johnny black.

“So, bonnie… Ghost has a gift for you.”

“My name isn't Bonnie,” she grumbled, misunderstanding Johnny as she was a silly little American girl. She'd never even met someone from Scotland before.

Johnny only snickered and grinned, stepping aside to reveal the beautiful lilies on the counter, the petals a mix of a soft yellow, and yellow mixed with pink. Her absolute, literal favorite flowers. Either Johnny was a serial killer who was super lucky, or Ghost really did send him. She naturally gravitated closer to the flowers, hesitant, cautious, eyeing Johnny from the corner of her eye as her fingers brushed the stems, the soft petals.

She murmured a soft thanks to him as she turned to fetch a vase from one of the cabinets, rinsing out the dust, adding lukewarm water to the vase and mixing in the plant food that came with the pretty- beautiful- flowers. She didn't get flowers often, as they died quickly and Ghost was more of a material man, but she still absolutely adored getting flowers.

Turning with the vase in hand, she gingerly settled the flowers into it and set it in the middle of the dining table, looking extremely pleased.

“You've got more, lass,” Johnny gently reminded her, and she turned to be met with an honest-to-God box of her favorite chocolates, and a wrapped mystery gift. She furrowed her eyebrows a little, assessing the wrapped gift, running through whatever it could be. It was as long as her arm, and about as thick as it, too. It was quite big… big enough to be a bomb. Well, maybe not that extreme; Ghost did say he sent Johnny, so surely he must trust this man enough to not destroy her and their apartment.

Cautiously, like a stray dog being met with fresh food from a stranger, she began to open the gift. She was careful with the wrapping, as if it'd blow up if she went any quicker or less careless, and after a moment, the gift was revealed.

A really, really nice monitor, that came in the box with a pretty pink keyboard and mouse, and a… oh my God, a mini PC! Her lips parted in sheer surprise, letting her guard down slightly in glee and shock. Johnny simply grinned, as Ghost had told him why he was getting this specific thing for her.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, excitement at the levels of a kid on Christmas, but it was June. “Thank you, Johnny, thank you, holy fuck!” She grinned right back at him, her carefully constructed walls starting to crumble. She fished out her phone to text Ghost, thanking him profusely, to which he responded with a heart.

‘i'm giving you the sloppiest toppy when you come home for this’

All Ghost responded to that with was a thumbs up, which made her huff a laugh at how ancient he must be.

Johnny helped her set up the mini PC as well as the monitor, even installing Steam for her before awkwardly standing there as she immediately busies herself with downloading and buying games to play.

“Well, lass, I’ll leave you to it,” Johnny says after a minute, offering her a smile. “But before I go… here. Happy birthday, bonnie.”

She turns, confused, as Johnny sets a tiny wrapped box in her palm, carefully unwrapping it to find a beautiful bracelet. It had butterfly charms on it in pastel, Easter colors, which so happened to be her favorite. “How did you…?” she asked softly, in awe of the beautiful jewelry.

“Have a little birdie in my corner,” he teased, but it was true; she figures Ghost told him everything she likes to properly get her gifts, or to help ease her anxiety and fear of a stranger.

She doesn't think- which would get her killed if Johnny was a worse man than he is- before she gently wraps her arms around his waist in a brief, soft hug. Her perfume filled Johnny's nose, sticking to his shirt, and he'd immediately fall in love if this wasn't his best friend's girlfriend.

“Thank you, Johnny,” she murmured, immediately working on putting on the bracelet and failing. Johnny stepped in, deft fingers expertly clipping the bracelet onto her wrist, before pulling away.

“Aye, looks right bonnie on you,” he murmured, still in her space. Their faces were somewhat close, his eyes drifting from hers to her lips, then back to her eyes immediately as if he'd spook her. He did.

She took a little step back, flustered, frustrated with herself. So Ghost was gone for a month and she immediately gets hot and bothered around another man? She hates herself.

“I oughta be goin’, lass,” Johnny expertly suggested, picking up on her feelings and that he'd probably overstayed his purpose of being here. “It was nice to meet ya. I'm sure I'll be seein’ ya.” With a two-fingered salute, Johnny let himself out of the apartment, shutting the door behind him.

She scrambled to turn all of the deadbolts and locks on the door, safe once more… but not from her thoughts.

All she could think about was how guilty and angry she was, that she seriously considered kissing Johnny right then. How lonely was she that it was even an option in her head? Ghost would surely kill her. God, Ghost. Does this count as cheating, even if she didn't do anything? She was spiralling. God, she hates herself.

banners by @saradika-graphics 🫶🏻

[bunnubun]

TW! Butterfly knife, slighty suggestive themes. Reverse Soap doesn’t appreciate Ghost being all buddy-buddy with the rookies….gives him the jells <3

[random-thot-generator]

Reverse trope prompt: Fake amnesia

Full prompt list here by @out-of-jams

Soap x reader

Maybe? NSFW - Soap gets a wee bit handsy with reader, nothing sexually explicit, profanity, soap is a sneaky lil shit

dividers by: @saradika-graphics

"Where's me bonnie lass?"

"She's comin', lad," Price murmurs, giving Soap's shoulder a gentle pat. He squats down beside his wheelchair to peer into his sergeant's eyes. "Ya feelin' alright? Head hurtin' ya?"

Soap squints at his captain, suspicious. "Oi! Yer no' another one o' them doctors, are ye? Feckin' numpties willnae leave me alone."

Price sighs, shakes his head and stands. "No, lad. I'm— just visitin'."

Soap's face splits into a grin. "Oh. Well, tha's a'right, then. Dinnae mind visitors. Do ye ken tha' big bloke tha' wears a skelly mask? 'E comes t'visit meh, too." Soap leans in, voice dipping low. " Bit of an odd duck, tha' one. Tol' meh 'e was a ghost." His eyebrows arch high on his forehead. "An' the docs say I'm th'one wit' brain damage."

Price huffs a short laugh despite himself. "That's his callsign, lad. Do ya remember yours?"

"Callsign?" Soap repeats, looking confused.

"Never mind. 'S not important right now."

Soap nods, his eyes trailing back to the door. "'Ave ye seen the gas man about? Mehbeh he kens where me lass is."

"Gas man?" Price mutters, frowning, then understanding dawns. "Ah. Ya mean Gaz. He's uh— at work. Won't be around for a few days, I'm afraid."

"Oh. Tha's too bad. 'E's good at findin' m'lass fer meh." He raises a hand to scratch at the scar tissue on the side of his head. "Doan s'pose ye'd be willin' t'ave a look 'round fer 'er, would ye? Ah miss 'er." His blue eyes shine bright and luminous with hope.

Price nods, chuckling. "A'course, lad. I'll see if I can find her f'ya."

Price turns on the telly for him before he leaves, flipping it to a cartoon channel. Soap's loud guffaw follows him out into the hallway. Passing the nurses' station, he gives a nod to a couple of the nurses as he heads towards the cafeteria, where he last saw you. He breathes a sigh of relief when he spots you sitting with Ghost, a cup of tea in your hands.

You watch the captain's approach, taking in his expression, then grimace. His look is apologetic when he murmurs, "He's askin' f'ya, again, lass."

"Bloody hell," you mutter, squeezing your eyes shut as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

Ghost grunts, eyes narrowing. "Funny, tha'. Johnny can't remember any'a us, but he's got no problem remembering 'er?" He tilts his head. "Bit strange, innit?"

Price shrugs. "Hard t'say, with an injury like that. Docs say he might regain some of his memory, he might not. No way t'tell."

You sigh, turning your weary gaze on Ghost. "His memory of me isn't perfect, either, ya know? You remember how he used to give me hell all the time. Now he thinks I'm his bloody girlfriend, for Chrissakes! He told Gaz we were engaged yesterday. It's bloody mental."

Ghost hums but says no more.

Blowing out a tired breath, you push yourself up from your chair. "Guess I better get back up there before he comes looking for me again. Thought that head nurse was going to string those other poor nurses up by their heels when Johnny gave 'em the slip."

Price laughs lowly. "And in a wheelchair, no less. Made it all the way to the exit before they caught up with him."

Ghost grunts as he stands, shuffling away from the table to join you. "I'll go wiff ya. Johnny might behave himself better if I'm there."

You snort at that. "Yeah, right. Might as well restrain him, because he won't keep his hands to himself, I can promise ya that."

As soon as you enter Soap's room, he beams a huge smile, his arms up, grabby hands reaching for you. "There ye are! C'mere, bonnie. Gie us a hug."

You point at him, a stern expression on your face. "Promise you'll behave, first. No feeling me up this time."

He gazes up at you, looking like a whipped pup. "Ayre ye mad at me, bon? Did I do somethin' bad? Ah'm sorry."

His pitiful pout melts your resolve instantly. "I'm not mad at you, Johnny. Don't get upset. Everything's alright," you soothe, voice soft as you step close to smooth your hand over his shaggy mohawk.

Ghost doesn't miss the mischievous little flash in Soap's eyes before he grins and grabs you by the hips, pulling you into his lap. You yelp, trying to be careful of his head as you try to push his face from between your breasts. The man doesn't let up, wallowing you like a fussy toddler, his big hands holding you in place. You give another yelp when he gets hold of your ass cheek and squeezes.

"Oi, ya cheeky git," Ghost barks. "Yer bein' too rough!"

Soap cuts a sly glance his way before settling his chin on your chest, smiling sweetly up at you. "Ah dinnae hurt ye, did I, bon?"

You sigh, flustered, trying to be patient. "No, Johnny. You just— startled me." You puff out a breath, prying his hand off your ass.

Soap gives Ghost a smug little smirk, hugging you so tight, you squeak. "See, LT? Ah wasnae bein' too rough. Ah jus' startled 'er."

You lay a hand on his cheek to get his attention back, melting a little more at the open adoration in his gaze. "You should still be more careful, Johnny," you chide him gently. "You get excited and grab my bum too hard sometimes. You leave bruises."

He perks up at that. "Aye? Bruises, ye say? Can ye show me? Ah promise t'kiss 'em all better."

You can't help but laugh. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

Soap nuzzles your chest and grins. "Aye, but ye love meh anyway, doan ye, bon?"

You only manage to escape when one of the nurses finally comes in to give Soap his medication and check his vitals. You scurry out the door, looking a right mess, disheveled and breathing heavy, mumbling something about getting some water.

Ghost stands by quietly as the nurse takes Johnny's vitals, eyeing him intently the whole time. Once she exits the room, Soap turns a guileless expression to his lieutenant. "Somethin' the matter, Mr. Ghost?"

Ghost huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "Give it up, Johnny. Ya fucked up, mate. She didn't catch it, but I did." He comes closer, leaning down to whisper at Soap's ear, "Or did ya jus' suddenly remember I'm yer LT?"

He chuckles lowly when Soap sucks in a sharp breath. He straightens back to his full height, looming over the now worried looking Scot.

"I'll keep m'mouth shut, so long as ya come clean wiff the captain. Poor sod's been worryin' 'imself sick over ya."

"A'right," Soap grumbles, bottom lip poking out.

You return moments later, a bottle of water in one hand, a pudding cup and spoon in the other.

"Look what I nicked for ya, Johnny. Butterscotch pudding. Your favorite."

He gives you a hangdog look. "Can we lay in bed while ye feed it t'meh? Ah'm feelin' a wee bit tired."

"Sure, love. Ghost, will ya help me get him in the bed?"

Ghost helps put him to bed without comment, but pins the sergeant with a knowing look while you're climbing into bed with him.

Soap slants a mischievous look up at his lieutenant, teeth flashing in a quick grin, and winks.

[sharksfrommars]

Ok this may be a bit of a morbid ask in regards to the asylum au but I've been thinking about bill's story about ford eating stan and that's why there was no body and like

think about how long it would take to eat an entire human, to the point where there are no remains left to be found. how many meals do you get out of that much meat. stan's not a skinny guy, either. like ok if you cannibalize someone like fiddleford you'd get, idk, maybe 2 or 3 meals out of that twig at best. but stan's got a lot more meat on his bones

SPEAKING OF, YEAH, THERE'S ALSO THE BONES. "oh I made the bones into soup" bill says. HOW MUCH SOUP CAN YOU MAKE FROM THAT MANY BONES? that's a lot of bones. that's the recommended calcium intake for your entire life right there

like, if the cannibalism story is true (which is what all the townsfolk, and the court system, and ford's own family believes), ford would've spent WEEKS going through a fridge full of stan meat

You’re so right! Ford’s case was severely mishandled all together, with little to no evidence and a media frenzy around the case. I also imagine that Bill claimed to have done a bunch more horrific stuff (that I do not want to write about, but you can! go buck wild!), with Stan’s body and just in general. Like, I originally wrote that Ford turned Stan’s bones into soap and washed himself with it but that grossed me out too much. 

Ford would’ve for sure gotten more than enough calcium from Stan’s bones.

its such a dramatic and shocking story, that no one really stops to think about it. The Satanic Panic went wild, and Ford was the perfect scapegoat. Questioning the story would’ve meant they had to address their own biases, which is something the general public famously hate doing.

Shermie is the only one who doesn’t believe Ford ate his brother. Not for any practical reasons (though he did try to run the numbers. Kind of hard to when you haven’t seen your brother in a decade), but because he just couldn’t believe that Ford would do that to Stan. He’s known Ford for his entire life, and his gut told him something else was going on. He did believe that Stan was dead, and that Ford had likely killed him, but Shermie figured that it was probably an accident that ended up triggering some sort of mental breakdown. 

(actually, after Ford told him about his ‘abusive ex’ bill, Shermie came up with another theory. That Ford called Stan over to help escape, and that this ‘bill’ fella killed Stan and took the body. The theory kind of fell apart there, so shermie never bought it up)

all that being said, the idea of Ford cutting up Stan and putting him in the fridge so he can cook him into a lasagna or something is hilarious. Straight out of fire punch. I imagine people thought he more ate Stan like a wild animal, but that image is so much funnier. Ford, dressed like a stepford wife, cutting up slices of Stan. This is LITERALLY what happens in both Fire Punch AND chainsaw man. I’m very tickled by it.

[ghostlycod]

task force 141 headcanons: who’s their celebrity crush?

MDNI, hints of NSFW, mentions of a breeding kink, all that stuff

price: does not pay attention to celebrities. absolutely refuses to. who gives a shit about some random stranger who can half-decently sing or act and is only “attractive” after they’ve been photoshopped to hell??? yeah sure maybe he liked some predetermined-to-be-famous bombshell as a teenager but nope, he’s wayyyy too mature for that now — until he discovers Sabrina Carpenter. pretty, naughty but still cute, and probably a bit too young for him?? oh, it’s a wrap. and with his tinyyyyy not tiny, not tiny at all breeding kink, he’d be jerking it to Juno every day for a month straight after he finds out about her

ghost: Megan thee Stallion. No further questions.

soap: stereotypically, a name like Megan Fox would just roll off of his tongue. It’s what everyone expects him to say, it’s what he liked as a teenager, so he just says it. keep it easy and keep up appearances. But seriously? it’s Sophie Turner post-divorce from Joe Jonas. she looked hot in those “hanging out with TSwift” photos! and she’s a MILF now… 👀

gaz: why would he have a celebrity crush when the only girl he sees is you? 🥺 (currently follows Zendaya on instagram and likes every single one of her photos) he would neverrrrr even look at anyone else, how could you think thaaaaat 🥺🥺 (and Bella Hadid) he doesn’t even care about insta or those kinds of movies or even listen to any of that kind of music 🥺🥺🥺 (and also Chloe Bailey)

[firedrakegirl]

A Second Chance

I added more to the Soap ficlet I wrote, so here's the fixed and updated version.

I snuggled happily into his arms, warm and content and not quite ready to fully wake up yet. He nuzzled into the back of my neck, arms curled around me just so. There was such a sense of peace, comfort, and love that I nearly drifted off to sleep again.

Then my eyes flew open. I felt him tense too. His arms around me loosened, and I rolled over to face him. I met his blue eyes, which were just as confused as mine. “Soap? Johnny?” I muttered softly.

“I remember... I’ve never met you before, and yet I’ve known you for years.” His Scottish accent was thick with sleep and confusion.

“Same. I don’t understand.” I said softly, though I made no move to get away from him. “I made a wish on a shooting star yesterday, but... That’s not real. A wish upon a star is for stories, not reality.”

“I wished upon a star too.” He admitted softly. “I love- loved my job, but I wanted a chance to experience the other parts of life and I didn’t think...” He touched his head where he’d been shot in the game.

“The mystery scar.” I shook my head, covering his hand with my own. “Does that mean that we both wished hard enough to... change the world?”

“Guess so, mo chridhe.” He sighed then pressed his forehead against mine. “I still love you, no matter what. This does not change that. I know what’s goin’ through your head.”

“I know. I’ve also got those memories of our first meeting and falling in love. even while you were still in the military. I love you too, even if you’re just a game character.” I teased and kissed his nose.

“Och, c’mere and give me a real kiss.” He laughed, pulling me closer. His kiss was gentle and sweet and full of adoration and love. When we broke apart, he curled his lips into that grin that just promised mischief. “So if I’m a video game character, wanna play with my joystick?”

“Johnny!!” I smacked him in the face with a pillow as I blushed brightly. “You dork!”

“Your dork though.” He grabbed the pillow away from me and tossed it aside before tackling me back into the bed, both of us laughing. He decided to just flop on top of me, pinning me down and resting his head over my heart.

I let out an oof, but wrapped my arms around him and gently scraped my nails across his scalp. “Mine, no matter what. I love you. In this world and every other.”

We laid there comfortably, just enjoying being close. Johnny’s hands wandered, but that was more because he had as much trouble sitting still as I did. My fingers kept scraping through his fauxhawk, earning a soft and content sound from him.

“It’s still fuckin weird we got two sets of memories though.” He said, still comfortably on top of me.

“Oh absolutely. I’ve never played the game, but I’ve watched the playthrough of one of them like a million times. That’s the game that made fall in love with you when you were just a character.”

“Did you know I died?”

I hummed, gently rubbing the scar on the side of his head, the one he never tried to hide under his hair. “Heard about it, but couldn’t bring myself to watch. I looked it up, but couldn’t bear to actually watch.”

He nuzzled into my neck, hands sneaking under my shirt to stroke my sides. “I’m sorry, mo chridhe.”

“You okay?”

“It’s weird to think about. I remember it, remember dying.”

I squeezed him tightly but didn’t say anything, letting him take his time to figure out how to say what he wanted to say.

“It hurt more than you might think, but only lasted a second. Then I was waking up with you in my arms. And I have memories of meeting you in a coffee shop, coming back to see you on leave, being discharged and coming to live with you here in the States.” He huffed a laugh, kissing my shoulder.

“Would you go back if you could?”

“Yeah, but only for a moment. To say goodbye to the lads and tell ‘em I’m alright, that I’m happy.”

“I’m glad you’re happy, my love. I’m happy with you here too. If I ever meet Markov, I’ll thank him before I kick him in the nuts.”

He barked a startled laugh. “None of that, lass. Just hold me.”

“Alright sweetheart.” I laughed, nuzzling his cheek. “I’m not gonna let you go any time soon.”

Ghost isekai here

[quoxal]

"I love you too"

A little reverse of the choke picture in a more homey setting (°◡°♡)

[splendsay]

I did it, I wrote a COD fic

Callsign: Sunshine Chapter 1/?

You are a renowned expert marksman in the U.S. military. Or -- you were. Before everything went to hell.

Now, you live in hiding, relying on your deadly, albeit limited, skillset for survival.

Until one day, you get a call.

[godihatethiswebsite]

Desert Oasis

✽ Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x f!reader (The Mummy AU)

Main Masterlist ✽ Ao3

✽ Part 2 - Cultivating a curious mind

You know what? I blame @dragonnarrative-writes for all of this. It's all their fault for poking this part of my brain in the first place even though I was originally just trying to poke theirs ><

There were only so many places you'd been allowed to go growing up even with a chaperone at your side. Mother brought you up the way any well respected young lady should be, and to be honest you felt much more at home in your skirts and dresses working on your drawings in the parlor than you did climbing over the fence in your backyard like your cousin convinced you to. But your father worried Kyle was improperly rubbing off on you and wanted to find you something to fill your head with where you could still be kept an eye on.

His solution: the Museum of Antiquities in Cairo.

After all, how much trouble could you get into reading about dead guys? At least they wouldn't be trying to chase your skirts as you got older.

Father owned his own shipping company that dealt with the transport of goods and wares, ancient artifacts included. He knew the people who were in charge of the facilities and thought this could be a replacement for the adventures your cousin liked to try to drag you on.

The beautifully painted sarcophagi drew in your imagination like a moth to a flame, chiseled sculptures and pillars depicting ancient beings far different than the god you'd been brought up believing in. And weren't you just the most well behaved little girl when your father brought you along on his business trips. All he had to do was put a book in your hand about the Old Kingdom and you'd stay seated right where he left you until it was time to leave. The drawings in your room turned less from pretty landscapes and fresh vases to imitations of the reliefs you'd seen from photographs of burial chamber walls. Your mother was slightly alarmed at first, but once she saw you still happily keeping up with your piano lessons and needlework she quickly gave in.

Once you were old enough to walk around the city by yourself, you stopped by the museum at least once a week just to spend hours wandering the halls - sometimes more if you noticed a new shipment of wares showing up on your father's ledgers that week slated for delivery. Always so eager to witness the unveiling of new items even if they'd never get put on display. One of the perks of growing up around the loading docks and being a sweet well mannered child to the workers.

You didn't work at the museum with Dr. John Price, but you'd frequented there an awful lot to have come to decent terms with the man. Always gruff, a bit rough around the edges, but boy did he have a mind for antiquities.

He wasn't always the easiest man to deal with; someone who didn't have time for the stupidity that came with being around the uneducated masses during business hours. He'd been working there in some capacity or another since you'd first became a patron, though back in those days he'd been a lot less rigid.

At one point you'd been barred from looking at a book that your father deemed had too much suggestive material in it – it was a tome about Tawaret, goddess of childbirth and fertility – and sent over to your favorite reading chair with something about Pepi II instead. Try as you might you couldn't get into it, mind still lingering on the forbidden subject which was just the latest in your stream of mythology research. You'd been half-heartedly flipping through the pages when a shadow passed you by and casually deposited the desired reading material in your lap, not even bothering to glance your way as he kept moving and turned down another aisle. He was clean shaven back then, but he'd made an impression as a kindred spirit willing to look the other way.

Now almost twenty years later you did your best to stay out of his way and disturb him as little as possible, but every so often you'd be fortunate enough to stumble upon him on a good day where he'd indulge you on certain topics of conversation that flowed smoothly, allowing you to see the lingering passionate twinkle of a younger man hiding behind eyes so full of wisdom and tired experience.

(And if you happened by chance to occassionally pass by a tall, large, tank of a dark robed man waiting patiently for his turn to have an audience with Price on your way out of his office – following you with his deep brown eyes and a cloth cover shrouding the lower half of his face from view – you kept your gaze to the floor and gave him a wide respectful berth, only risking a glance back at the individual long enough to see the broad planes of his back disappearing behind Price's door with a click of the lock)

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[Edited 5/8/24: changed formatting, title, tags, and numbering system]

[karlachismylife]

I am not even in the mood for this, but I think, if we have all those magical womb tattoos, we should have similar ones to place spells on cocks.

Why is it that you always want the person with a womb be all unable to resist another's desire or be addicted to cumming or feel uncomfortable wearing clothes. Why can't I take Johnny MacTavish, slap a magical cock tattoo on him and make him walk around always ready for some free use if someone in the room sees the magical shine through his shorts and wants some of that.

When I reach my once a year mood for that kind of thing, I am writing that. I am writing cock tattoos.

Besides I think it would look pretty. Imagine sparkling ornament going along the whole shaft. Oooh, what if one of them is like barbed wire and it's the one that makes cumming impossible/painful unless it's with someone. Or a flora themed one that is like making him only able to cum if he's breeding someone, so no matter how horny he is and how long he's been jerking off, nothing happens. Or something. I dunno. I am not in The Mood rn, as I said, but I saw the spreadsheets with the womb tattoos again and got the idea.

[wipbigbang]

The 2025 WIP Big Bang & WIP Reverse Bang Are Open For Sign-Ups!

Welcome to a new round! We're bringing back the OG WIP Big Bang, which is for finishing fic and getting art to go with it, and introducing the first full round of the WIP Reverse Bang, which is for finishing artwork and getting fic to go with it. All fandoms/ratings/ships are welcome, including original works!

Schedule

All times are by 11:59pm PST. Convert time zones.

Big Bang/Reverse Bang Sign-ups Begin- April 1st

Big Bang/Reverse Bang Sign-ups Close- May 28th

Big Bang/Reverse Bang Check In #1- May 22nd

Big Bang/Reverse Bang Check In #2- June 15th

Big Bang/Reverse Bang Snippets Due- July 1st

Big Bang Art Claims/Reverse Bang Fic Claims Begin- July 17th

Big Bang/Reverse Bang Check In #3- July 22nd

Big Bang/Reverse Bang Check In #4- August 6th

Big Bang/Reverse Bang Rough Drafts Due- August 15th

Big Bang/Reverse Bang Posting Claims Begin- August 23rd

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FAQ

[bunnubun]

I swear I’m cooking guys- IM JUST TRYING TO FIGURE OUT THIS DAMN COMIC WHILST SCHOOL IS UP MY ASS :C Comic-ing is hard, alright? ;v;

[literary-lesbian]

MY FAVOURITE TROPE OF ALL TIME??? BEDSIDE VIGIL??? FUCK MEEEE

[dollygirl808]

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Obsessive! Werewolf/Weredog 141(+extra) x Chubby! OC Freya

Freya was just trying to have a nice, relaxing getaway vacation with her boyfriend to her old childhood home, to get away from the loud, crowded city, when a big, kind of obsessive dog quite literally forced his way onto her lap and into her life. All of a sudden, there's a second dog. Then another, and another, until suddenly she found herself with a whole pack of dogs! Little does she know, they're all werewolves, not real dogs, and they're all a little (lot) in love with her.

Of course, inspired by the lovely @charliemwrites and their Woof Woof Johhny series when I first started writing this. I have also shamelessly been influenced by other stories (even my own) with more obsessive/yandere vibes. I am a greedy, greedy little reverse harem poly 141 lover so I couldn't help myself.

(Soap, Gaz, Ghost, John, Nikolai, König, maybe Alejandro and Rudy. Maybe more)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5 - wip