spectres-n-soap

[spectres-n-soap]

One Step Forward, Three Steps Back - Ghost x You x Soap

Content Warnings - pregnancy, afab!fem!reader, panic attack

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You look at yourself in the mirror, you feel different. You feel like you’re getting better and you have expressed this to Dr Miller, told him how you think you’re starting to get better.

He had smiled at you, congratulated you but also warned you that healing is not linear. Much like an old scar, sometimes it’ll ache and you might find yourself hurting all day. You, being a soldier with a few scars that did happen to ache some days, took this like cough medicine. You knew that healing wasn’t linear. How many times have you broken something or needed stitches? You knew that healing was never as easy as it sounded. But today, you felt good. You’ve been feeling good all week despite the anxiety at the back of your mind, like a predator readying itself to strike at the unsuspecting prey. But you suspect it and therefore aren’t prey. You aren’t prey.

Simon peaks his head into the bathroom, checking on you like a mother hen. Last week, after returning home from dinner, you hadn’t just taken a step forward. You felt like it was a giant leap.

”You can sleep in the bed.” You murmured, finding it hard to meet his eyes when you said it.

”You’re not taking the couch.” Simon said gruffly and you cannot help the way your eyes rolled.

”No you wanker, I mean with me.” You huffed, annoyance washed away any sense of apprehension about offering this to him. You had been feeling bad about him sleeping on the floor next to you just so you could hold his hand on nights when you find it hard to sleep. Which seemed to be every night when you weren’t holding his hand.

Simon clutched the steering wheel of the vehicle, his knuckles nearly go white. You don’t notice it or pretend not to. He can’t tell, not when he has to focus on not crashing the car from the shock of you saying that. Finally he manages to speak again, “Okay, if that’s what you want.” He was not shocked to see you had put a pillow wall between him and you. He expected and found it surprisingly easy to settle into bed.

You smile at him, a thing that you feel like you’ve been doing more often. Yesterday you had smiled so wide your cheeks had hurt when Simon had brought home your favorite takeout while you had taken a short nap on the couch. “You sure about this?” He asks again and you roll your eyes with a smile.

”You sound like a dad.” You tease as you walk past him and grab your slip on shoes. “Yes, I’m sure. It’ll be good for me, even my therapist says so.” You comment as you slip the shoes on with a little more trouble than normal. You frown just a little, your feet have become more swollen. God damn it.

”I’m just making sure.” Simon says as he grabs your purse and hands it to you. “You’ll call me if you need me, right?” He asks and you can see the worry in his brown eyes. Genuine worry for you and you pat his bicep reassuringly.

”I will Simon.”

The group is nice. Although most of the women are a little less far along as you, they welcome you in with open arms. People discuss names for their babies, the genders and how excited or nervous they are. One woman, a pretty woman named Linda who is closest to you in terms of months, immediately brings you into her small group of women. They chatter and blessedly, don’t try to pry into your life. They don’t ask about your husband or the gender of the baby, the only thing they ask about is the name.

Your cheeks turn warm when you admit you hadn’t looked into any baby names yet. Linda gasps, jokingly, and offers you her baby name book, saying “I’ve already got my baby girl’s name picked out. I’ve had my eye on it since I was a little girl. I read it somewhere. Ophelia, how pretty of a name is that?” You smile and agree that it's a beautiful name. For once, you wonder if the baby is going to be a boy or a girl.

Everyone settles down when the teacher(?) starts. She goes over some things that every parent needs to know once the baby is here. How to make a bottle of milk, how to change a diaper, how to help get the baby on a sleeping schedule so you don’t go insane from lack of sleep and resources for postpartum depression. The class, overall, is wonderful. Most of the stuff you knew about but you have a feeling half of the reason for these classes is to know you aren’t alone and to make future new moms.

You’re walking up to Linda with the intention to give her your number so the two of you can text about the struggles of being this far along in a pregnancy. How achey your feet are or how your favorite foods seem to have been ruined. You stop dead in your tracks when you see her husband, it must be her husband since you saw the ring on her finger, come up to her.

All the warmth in the room seems to be sucked out when you see him. Messy brown hair, a bright and mischievous smile with a matching set of bright blue eyes that remind you of those springs in Florida that somehow keep getting advertised to you despite living in the UK.

He looks exactly like Johnny. So much like him that for a moment you think it is him until reality comes crashing down, you watch him smile down at her and kiss her tenderly. Your stomach lurches and your eyes burn, breathing becomes a struggle as you turn on your heel and rush towards the bathroom. You shut the door and lock it behind you, ignoring anyone who tries to talk to you and throw up into the toilet. You retch up your breakfast and that little fruity drink you had grabbed on the way here. Hot tears run down your face as you heave up everything in your stomach and then some.

You fall back, the taste of bile in your mouth only adds to whatever is happening as you sob. You grab at your hair as you cry and wonder what is going on. Why is this happening? Why now? You were doing so good! What did you do wrong? You should have never left the house, should have listened to Simon and stayed home.

Simon.

You fumble in your bag and shakily unlock your phone, immediately finding his contact in your phone and calling him. “Simon.” You sob into the line and he immediately knows.

”I’ll be right there luv, stay on the line with me yeah?”

”Okay.” You warble out as you struggle to breath past the sobs that shake your entire body.

”You got to breathe luv, can you do that for me? In, hold for three, out.” Simon talks you through it on speaker as he immediately begins to drive to you.

#john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #call of duty #cod #soap #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #mw3 spoilers #thyh #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x y/n #simon ghost x reader #ghost x you #thoyh

[spectres-n-soap]

The Past - Ghost x Soap x You

Content Warnings - fluff, minor angst, afab!fem!reader, no use of Y/n or nicknames

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Main Masterlist

It’s too fucking early for this shit, that is your first thought when you roll out of your cot. Distantly you can hear a certain Scot talking loudly, Soap is likely bugging Ghost. You drag your hands down your face as you look at your alarm clock, 04:48 am. “It’s too fucking early.” You grumble as you get up anyways.

After being in the military for years, long enough to have built up a good enough record to be recruited by John Price for 141 task force, you probably should be used to waking up at the ass crack of dawn. But even the sun is still slumbering, the sky isn’t even a faint shade of pink to welcome the giant ball of gas.

You pull on your uniform and slick your hair into a bun, fighting with little flyaways the entire time. You brush your teeth and scroll through your phone as you do so. Updates from your family on facebook and new instagram stories from friends and celebrities, the same thing every day. But that’s why you joined the military, well that was one of the reasons. Routine, something you thrived in just as much as being thrown into the field with nothing but your wits. You rinse out your mouth and look at yourself in the mirror for a second, staring dead into your own eyes before you leave the small bathroom.

You are slow to walk to the recreational room, burdened with the knowledge that Soap had already started his antics early. Ghost is sitting at the island counter, his broad shoulders hunched and his simple balaclava pushed up halfway as he takes sips from his tea. Soap is talking about something but you don’t have the patience or brain power to figure it out and by the way Ghost is, neither does he. You wander over to the coffee pot and pour yourself a cup before dumping as much creamer and sugar as you can possibly bear into it. “Is tha’ even coffee now?” Ghost asks.

Perhaps a few months ago you would have been startled at his sudden words but it seemed that the ice between the two of you had melted since you had covered his six in the last mission. “Don’t know, don’t care.” You mumble as you lean against the counter as you stir your coffee. You blow on it and take a tentative sip. Disgustingly sweet, good. Now you can’t taste the bitter coffee under it. You drag your eyes over the rec room and nod to a very tired Gaz who must have dragged himself out of bed no long after you. You watch as Gaz smacks Soap on the back of the head.

”Shut up mate, you’re gonna wake the entire barracks with your talkin’.” Gaz grumbles before he makes his way over to the coffee pot and pours himself what little is left in it. You cringe as he drinks it black, no matter how many times you’ve seen him do it your stomach still churns. Which is a weird thing, because you’ve seen the brutality of war and have both been the subject of and done interrogations that got messy.

But it's Gaz drinking straight black coffee that gets you. You know it's not even his preference! You had asked him how he can stomach it without any kind of creamer or sugar and he admitted that he only drinks it black in the morning because he doesn’t really care how his coffee is that early. That truthfully, he much prefers something sweet like a latte or something.

“Away n’ bile yer heid!” Soap snaps at Gaz, leaning over the back of the couch haphazardly.

”English MacTavish.” Ghost grunts and you can’t help the snicker that leaves you.

“Oh not ye tae lass.” Soap groans, feigning heartbreak as he collapses onto the couch dramatically.

”You a theater kid Johnny?”

”Nae, jus’ naturally talented.” Soap says and you can hear the wink he gives even if no one can see it. “Wha’ about ye L.T? Ye a theater kid?”

” ‘Course he is.” You pipe up, “I mean, look at him.” You tease, referencing his collection of skeleton paraphernalia.

”Shut it.” Ghost says but you swear you can see the corners of his eyes crinkle just a little.

You grunt as you land hard onto the mat. “Ow.” You grumble.You rub the back of your head as you sit up. You don’t know why you had chosen Ghost as your sparring partner, maybe you had some kind of hidden masochistic streak or a wish for a migraine by the end of the day. Either way, you were getting your ass thoroughly kicked. “Do you have to slam me so hard?” You ask as you get up from your spot on the mat.

”Maybe break my grip successfully and you won’t end up on the mat.” Ghost says and you roll your eyes at the same time you roll your shoulders to try and loosen them up. “Come on, let's go again.”

You don’t care what Ghost or Soap says, you watch them sit next to each other, a kind of closeness you silently envy. You might be a part of the team now, accepted and appreciated but you know you’ll never have what they have. Whatever that is, whether this bromance has more bro or ro to it is a subject much debated. But what matters is that Soap is the only person allowed to talk off Ghost’s ears no matter the subject. Soap gestures wildly with his hands and Ghost watches and listens, you don’t need to see his eyes to know there is a kind of fondness within them for the Scot.

You swallow the lump trying to form in your throat and dump the rest of your drink down the sink. “Think I’m gonna turn in for the night, I had an early morning.”

”I said sorry.” Soap grumbles and you laugh before you leave for your room. You lay in your cot and look at your hand, empty and cold. You feel a certain shame, a certain flavor of loneliness, when you place your hand in the other and clasp them together. The idea of your hand being held by someone, by certain someone’s, is both a comforting one and a heartbreaking one. You bit your lip and close your eyes, letting yourself pretend for just a moment.

#john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #soap #call of duty #cod #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #mw3 spoilers #thyh #soap x ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x soap #ghost x you #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x y/n #soap x y/n #soap x you #soap x ghost #soap x reader

[spectres-n-soap]

OH GOD

>:3

[spectres-n-soap]

I am not ready for the next chapter of Highlands of the Heart (which I fucking love btw) because I just KNOW reader is going to walk into that room full of moms/dads and moms/moms and dads/dads and they’re gonna be alone with no one by their side and it just breaks my fucking heart but my god do I love it

Would you believe me if I said it was even worse than that?

#thoyh #bubble answers

[spectres-n-soap]

tonight’s thought: simon jerking off in front of his dumb puppy girl who genuinely has no clue it’s even meant to be a punishment. the way she’s just smushing her face against his beefy thigh and drooling while watching, whimpering every time he lightly shoves on her forehead and calls her a mutt when she tries to lap her tongue along his cock.

[spectres-n-soap]

firm believer that if you asked gaz about what he’s doing / what he’s wearing, he’d reply with a photo posed up like a SLUT (affectionate)

[spectres-n-soap]

You look really nice today, but you'd look better if your ankles were over my shoulders with you being pinned below me.

#john price #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish

[spectres-n-soap]

The Past - Ghost x Soap x You

Content Warnings - fluff, minor angst, afab!fem!reader, no use of Y/n or nicknames

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

It’s too fucking early for this shit, that is your first thought when you roll out of your cot. Distantly you can hear a certain Scot talking loudly, Soap is likely bugging Ghost. You drag your hands down your face as you look at your alarm clock, 04:48 am. “It’s too fucking early.” You grumble as you get up anyways.

After being in the military for years, long enough to have built up a good enough record to be recruited by John Price for 141 task force, you probably should be used to waking up at the ass crack of dawn. But even the sun is still slumbering, the sky isn’t even a faint shade of pink to welcome the giant ball of gas.

You pull on your uniform and slick your hair into a bun, fighting with little flyaways the entire time. You brush your teeth and scroll through your phone as you do so. Updates from your family on facebook and new instagram stories from friends and celebrities, the same thing every day. But that’s why you joined the military, well that was one of the reasons. Routine, something you thrived in just as much as being thrown into the field with nothing but your wits. You rinse out your mouth and look at yourself in the mirror for a second, staring dead into your own eyes before you leave the small bathroom.

You are slow to walk to the recreational room, burdened with the knowledge that Soap had already started his antics early. Ghost is sitting at the island counter, his broad shoulders hunched and his simple balaclava pushed up halfway as he takes sips from his tea. Soap is talking about something but you don’t have the patience or brain power to figure it out and by the way Ghost is, neither does he. You wander over to the coffee pot and pour yourself a cup before dumping as much creamer and sugar as you can possibly bear into it. “Is tha’ even coffee now?” Ghost asks.

Perhaps a few months ago you would have been startled at his sudden words but it seemed that the ice between the two of you had melted since you had covered his six in the last mission. “Don’t know, don’t care.” You mumble as you lean against the counter as you stir your coffee. You blow on it and take a tentative sip. Disgustingly sweet, good. Now you can’t taste the bitter coffee under it. You drag your eyes over the rec room and nod to a very tired Gaz who must have dragged himself out of bed no long after you. You watch as Gaz smacks Soap on the back of the head.

”Shut up mate, you’re gonna wake the entire barracks with your talkin’.” Gaz grumbles before he makes his way over to the coffee pot and pours himself what little is left in it. You cringe as he drinks it black, no matter how many times you’ve seen him do it your stomach still churns. Which is a weird thing, because you’ve seen the brutality of war and have both been the subject of and done interrogations that got messy.

But it's Gaz drinking straight black coffee that gets you. You know it's not even his preference! You had asked him how he can stomach it without any kind of creamer or sugar and he admitted that he only drinks it black in the morning because he doesn’t really care how his coffee is that early. That truthfully, he much prefers something sweet like a latte or something.

“Away n’ bile yer heid!” Soap snaps at Gaz, leaning over the back of the couch haphazardly.

”English MacTavish.” Ghost grunts and you can’t help the snicker that leaves you.

“Oh not ye tae lass.” Soap groans, feigning heartbreak as he collapses onto the couch dramatically.

”You a theater kid Johnny?”

”Nae, jus’ naturally talented.” Soap says and you can hear the wink he gives even if no one can see it. “Wha’ about ye L.T? Ye a theater kid?”

” ‘Course he is.” You pipe up, “I mean, look at him.” You tease, referencing his collection of skeleton paraphernalia.

”Shut it.” Ghost says but you swear you can see the corners of his eyes crinkle just a little.

You grunt as you land hard onto the mat. “Ow.” You grumble.You rub the back of your head as you sit up. You don’t know why you had chosen Ghost as your sparring partner, maybe you had some kind of hidden masochistic streak or a wish for a migraine by the end of the day. Either way, you were getting your ass thoroughly kicked. “Do you have to slam me so hard?” You ask as you get up from your spot on the mat.

”Maybe break my grip successfully and you won’t end up on the mat.” Ghost says and you roll your eyes at the same time you roll your shoulders to try and loosen them up. “Come on, let's go again.”

You don’t care what Ghost or Soap says, you watch them sit next to each other, a kind of closeness you silently envy. You might be a part of the team now, accepted and appreciated but you know you’ll never have what they have. Whatever that is, whether this bromance has more bro or ro to it is a subject much debated. But what matters is that Soap is the only person allowed to talk off Ghost’s ears no matter the subject. Soap gestures wildly with his hands and Ghost watches and listens, you don’t need to see his eyes to know there is a kind of fondness within them for the Scot.

You swallow the lump trying to form in your throat and dump the rest of your drink down the sink. “Think I’m gonna turn in for the night, I had an early morning.”

”I said sorry.” Soap grumbles and you laugh before you leave for your room. You lay in your cot and look at your hand, empty and cold. You feel a certain shame, a certain flavor of loneliness, when you place your hand in the other and clasp them together. The idea of your hand being held by someone, by certain someone’s, is both a comforting one and a heartbreaking one. You bit your lip and close your eyes, letting yourself pretend for just a moment.

[spectres-n-soap]

New chapter being written :)

#john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #call of duty #soap #cod #ghost x reader #mw3 spoilers #simon ghost riley #thyh

[spectres-n-soap]

soap and gaz waiting for a train, both a little drunk, gaz with his arm wrapped around soap's waist, soap with his face tucked into gaz's neck kissing and nibbling on him, telling him how fucking gorgeous he is, gaz looking around to make sure no one is paying attention, then sliding his hand between soap's legs whispering he's the one who's bloody gorgeous.

[spectres-n-soap]

we're always talking about what freaks soap/ghost/price are and i genuinely don't think gaz gets enough credit for being a stone cold weirdo. the thing is, when you're as handsome as kyle is, people tend to view the odd sexual shit he does as just being extremely hot and just tend to bypass that fact that if it were anyone else they'd be freaked out by his behavior.

take, for example, his tendency to shove his hands between your thighs at every opportunity. it doesn't matter where you are, who you're with, or what you're wearing- kyle's hand is going to wind up between your legs, squished between the softness of your thighs.

sometimes he plays nice, sometimes he doesn't. that hand sometimes winds up closer to your knees if he's distracted, and sometimes he's urging you to spread your legs so he can cup your pussy through your jeans while you're both at a restaurant. he insists that it's because his circulation is bad, that he needs you to warm his hands for him. isn't that what a good partner does, babes? if you needed to warm your hands by resting it on his cock, he wouldn't mind! he's volunteering, in fact!

it's always the worst when you're at home on the couch, trying to watch a movie or a show. no matter what, he's going to bully you into spreaing your legs so he can shove his hand in your underwear and gently pet your pussy, not vigorously enough to get you off, but it's consistent and gentle and by the end of the film you're always squirmy, warm and desperate for him. you haven't watched a movie that's more than two hours in years, that lord of the rings marathon nearly fucking killed you and you're not keen to be put through that again. you still remember the glint in his eye, the little satisfied smirk as he pulled his hand free from between your legs, took one look at his pruny, puckered fingertips and said "sure was a long one, wasn't it babes?"

[spectres-n-soap]

A Soft Breeze - Ghost x Reader x Soap

Content Warnings - Therapy, pregnancy, afab!fem!reader, angst with comfort

Series Masterlist

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“Why do you lash out at others?” Dr. Miller asks. The session had been going relatively normal, he had started out with the usual base questions he did every time.

“How are you?”

“I’m doing my best.”

“How’s the pregnancy?”

“Healthy for the most part.”

And it felt he was coming out of left field with that question. It must have been obvious how much of a divergence from the norm it was because he tries to back track but you stop him.

“It's easy.” You admit. Admission feels like poison or acid, eating up at you now that you’ve spoken it to life. It was easy, it is easy, to lash out at those around you then to confront the source. You scream and yell, throw things and break down instead of admitting the truth that no one deserves your anger. No one deserves the grief that eats you up and that you refuse to acknowledge until now. “It’s easy to lash out at others then take a moment to reflect.”

“Do you feel bad afterwards?” He asks as he writes down something of note and you cringe a little. Just another thing to add to the ever growing list of things wrong with you. That’s what you’ve concluded that means, that whenever he writes something down after you say something, that it's another thing wrong with you. You won’t dare to ask him if it's true; he’ll probably lie about it for propriety.

“Yes.” You still beat yourself up over the baby shower and every time you’ve yelled at Simon. “I feel awful afterwards because I know they didn’t deserve it.”

“So why do you take it out on Simon specifically?” Dr. Miller asks and you stiffen. What a loaded question, you thought. “Just off the top of your head, why?”

“Because it feels like he’s trying to replace him.” You say, throat becoming tight at the thought, horrible and malicious. “And I know that he isn’t and that it's not right for me to think like that.” Dr. Miller takes notes, his hand moving quickly over the lined paper in front of him as you speak and it takes everything in you not to stop or call him out on it. “It should be Johnny here. Not him.”

“You know that Johnny is dead.”

“Yes I know he’s dead.” You snap, “I know he is, alright? But it doesn’t stop me from wishing he wasn’t.” You put your face into the palms of your hands and sigh. “I’m a terrible person.” You whisper.

“No, you’re just a person.” Dr. Miller says, “There is no such thing as a good or bad person, just people who do good and bad things. Sometimes more of one than the other.” He sets down his clipboard and leans forward, “It's good that you are able to find what the reason is, now we just have to work on finding ways of expressing those feelings without hurting those around us.” You nod slowly.

Simon is waiting for you in the parking lot, a surprise for you. “Hey, I was thinking we could eat out tonight, to celebrate another therapy session.” You scrunch your face up and before you can retort anything he says, “Just accept the free food.” You truly cannot debate with that logic or offer and you get into the vehicle with him.

It’s not a fancy restaurant but to be honest, you might’ve tried to strangle him if he had. Just a simple sandwich place, the food is good and the restaurant surprisingly serves other things than just sandwiches and drinks. You opt for an italian sandwich and some tomato bisque on the side with crackers. 

The silence between the two of you is natural, especially as you eat and therefore become unable to speak without being rude. The restaurant isn’t bustling with tons of other people, in fact it's rather quiet for the time of day. You think it's because of the fact it's Wednesday. “I’m sorry.” You say after finishing your soup.

“What’re you apologizin’ for?” He asks and your cheeks warm.

“I’m sorry for being awful to you all the time.” You say, “It's not okay for me to treat you like that and I don’t know why you stuck around after everything.”

“Because you’re Johnny’s bird.” He says, “I’m doing right by him, I’m making sure the person he cared for and the baby he never knew existed are safe.” He states and you shake your head.

“I don’t get it.” You mutter and he chuckles softly, the sound warms your belly more than the soup did.

“You don’t have to.”

You get a call from Mrs. MacTavish the next day, “I was thinking about what you said the other day, about not feeling prepared for motherhood and I did some looking.” You vaguely hear some mouse clicking and she starts again, “I’m gonna send you some links to places holding parenting classes.” You glance at your phone and see the links copy and pasted into the text chat. “You should attend them, I think they would be very useful. Have a good rest of your day dear.” You say your goodbyes and tap on one of the links.

Just as Mrs. MacTavish said, it is for a place holding parenting classes throughout the week, you look at the next available one and feel your heart rate pick up. Two days from now, it will be held at a nearby library in the afternoon. Simon glances over your shoulder and asks, “Thinking about going?”

“It would be smart for me to go.”

“But do you want to?” He asks as he sets down his dirty mug into the sink to wash later. He leans against the counter and you shrug.

“Wouldn’t hurt to go, just to see if I like it.” Your thumb hovers over the register link before you finally tap it and send in your information. Putting down just how far along you are in your pregnancy feels surreal. Seven months along and nearly at your eighth. How did the time pass by so quickly? 

#john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #soap #call of duty #cod #ghost x reader #mw3 spoilers #simon ghost riley #thyh #thoyh #simon ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #simon riley x you

[spectres-n-soap]

God I'm so embarrassed. Why didn't anyone tell me that I linked pt 1 of All The Things I've Said twice??? 😭😭😭

[spectres-n-soap]

Thank you @fangirlingoverfanfic and everyone who got me to 250 reblogs!

Here are some other people who come to mind who always seem to reblog my stuff (kisses for all of you)

@itzzjxlyn @mandalover2023 @pepsicolacoochie @http-paprika @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @dracu1ara @snoopyee and @groguspicklejar

Soap x Reader x Ghost - The Highlands of Your Heart Masterlist

The Highlands of Your Heart

Let's Walk in The Grass

Let's Sit and Watch The Clouds

The Clouds remind Me of You

You keep The Rain at Bay

Yet the Rain Comes Anyway

In The Rain I Cannot Find You

Your Warmth is Fading

The Rain Is Cold and You Are Gone

I Scream and Scream, Can You Hear Me?

A Spectre Remembers

To Live is to Love. To Grieve is to Love

Hand in Hand

Times Long Since Past

More to Come...

All The Things I've Said

All The Things I've Said Pt2

#250 reblogs #tumblr milestone #thank you

[spectres-n-soap]

The Things I've Said PT 3 - Ghost x Soap x Reader

Content Warnings - afab!fem!reader, pregnancy, grief, c-section mentioned, worries of motherhood

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Simon picks you up from the building and for once, you speak first, “I called Mrs. MacTavish. We’re gonna have tea later this week.” You say as you pick at a loose thread hanging from your shirt.

“That’s good.” Simon responds before he adds, “I’m proud that you’re taking that step.” For some reason, the word proud makes whatever had built up in your chest disappear and relief replacing it. You smile to yourself as you wade into that feeling. You stare out the window and you realize you’re looking out the window not to avoid a conversation but because you want to. You want to see the world passing by. 

The flat is clean when you enter, something you know Simon has been doing while you’re away. You’re grateful for it, one less thing on your mind as the due date draws closer. You look at the calendar app on your phone and feel your stomach clench at how close the date is. It feels like yesterday you were taking those tests and now you’re only a handful of weeks away from meeting this baby. From meeting Johnny’s baby, you cup a hand over your mouth as a wave of nausea washes over you. You glance at this week's coming events and remember some of the items the internet recommends for you during the last six weeks of pregnancy. Practicing your breathing, relaxing your body and going on walks but not too much. Follow the 50/50 rule and get a bounce ball. You were sure there were other things you were forgetting as you sat down on your couch.

You also try to remember that your due date wasn’t guaranteed although if you were going to have a c-section you would have a set date. Since it was a surgery after all. You glance over at Simon who tilts his head at you and you fight the urge to ask him to sit next to you. You dart your eyes away and get back up off the couch, “I’m gonna go lay down.” You mutter and stiffly waddle back to your room. Despite letting him sleep next to your bed at night you couldn’t bring yourself to hold a conversation with Simon.

The week passes by slowly, mostly because Simon insists on doing anything that requires even a small bit of effort. “I can wash the dishes!” You protest as you try to push yourself in between the man and the dirty dishes.

Simon shakes his head and rolls his eyes, something that makes you want to slap him, “I know you can, I’d just rather do them myself.” Simon says and you make a noise in the back of your throat.

“I’m pregnant Simon, not fucking helpless.” You snap, “Let me do the stupid fucking dishes.” You point your finger at him, “You already do everything else.” You grumble. Simon stares at you and you narrow your eyes at him, trying to make sure he knew this was something you were not about to back down from.

Finally, the day had arrived. After setting a time and place for you to meet up with Mrs. MacTavish, the day was here. You bounce your foot up and down, which you couldn’t stop despite literally pressing down on it with your hands, as you wait to see her. You know the drive from Scotland could take a while but you keep checking and rechecking to make sure you have the time right.

Finally, you see her. Graying brown hair and soft blue eyes, a contrast to her husbands and children’s bright blue ones. Everything about her screamed motherhood. Tired eyes but laugh lines more prominent than any other wrinkle on her and you wonder if that's what you will look like one day. Covered in proof of a life filled with happiness despite the terrible things that happen. You know that day must have been the worst day of her life and you swallow whatever nausea had tried to rise up.

A waitress comes by and takes your orders, a fruity drink for yourself and a coffee for her. The silence hangs in the air for a little while longer before you speak first, “I’m sorry for breaking down and snapping at everyone during the baby shower.” You say with burning cheeks and stinging eyes. “I shouldn’t have done that and I’m sorry.” You startle in your seat when she reaches across the table and takes your hands in her own.

“I forgive ye, I’ve been worried fer ye. I ken this cannae be easy.” She says and squeezes your hand. You try to muster a smile but can’t seem to hold it for long. “Ye’ve been goin’ to therapy? I suggested it tae  Simon-”

“Yeah I have. It’s been helping.” You say, not wanting to hear about him right now. The waitress comes back by with the drinks and you thank her. You take a sip from the fruity drink, enjoying the sudden bursts of fruit on your tongue. “I’m worried.” You admit.

“Worried about what?” She asks after swallowing her mouth full of coffee.

“Being a mum. What if I’m not a good mum?”

She chuckles as she sets down her cup, “Every mum and every da has the same worries. I know I sure did when I was pregnant, each time I was terrified even if it was a bit silly after I had given birth tae several children before.” She smiles at you. “Let me give ye some advice.” She scoots closer like she’s about to tell a secret. “Ye learn as ye go. Ye can never be prepared for parenthood, that’s something I had tae accept when I had mah second child.”

“Really?”

“Aye. Parenting is a learning experience, all you can do is give it your best and know that you’ve given your best.” She says and squeezes one of your hands, “But I have faith in ye. Yer gonnae be a good mam because yer already worryin’ about bein’ one already.”

Mrs. MacTavish kisses you on the cheek before she leaves and says, “Thank yer fer bein’ there fer mah Johnny and yer gonnae be a good mam.” You smile and say thank you. You come home to Simon making dinner and your eyes fill with tears at the sight as your heart hurts for who isn’t.

tag list - @itzzjxlyn @mandalover2023 @pepsicolacoochie @http-paprika @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @dracu1ara @snoopyee

#john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #soap #call of duty #cod #thyh #ghost x reader #mw3 spoilers #simon ghost riley #thoyh #soap mw3 #simon ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you

[spectres-n-soap]

Here are my random 'Replay' (which I think is the YouTube music version) songs

You're mine - Phantogram

Ecstasy (slowed) - SUICIDAL-IDOL

Beat And The Pulse - Austra

Lotta True Crime by Penelope Scott

Government Hooker by Lady Gaga

High Enough by K.Flay

NPT - @ghouljams (hi it's waves) @cordeliawhohung @groguspicklejar

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE TAG SWEET BABY @tapioca-milktea1978

6 Random Songs From “On Repeat” Playlist:

Sabrina Jordan - Hazel Eyes Ariana Grande - west side Love & War feat. Yade Lauren Sleep Token – Take Me Back To Eden Loi - Am I Enough Eminem - Venom

No pressure tag: @konigsblog @shotmrmiller @spectres-n-soap @glossysoap @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @peachesofteal

I tag my fav accounts since I spend most of my time reading what they write and I adore them  ♥ ♥

#tag game#thanks for the tag!!#song recs

[spectres-n-soap]

All The Things I've Said PT2 - Ghost x Reader x Soap

Content Warnings - Ghosts past, tragic backstory™️, pregnancy, implied protective Ghost

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N - 2/7 done.

Ghost has found that the times when you are gone from the flat while attending therapy is suffocating. He normally does not mind being alone or the silence that comes with it but after spending the last weeks with you, he finds that he hates it.

He tries to keep busy now instead of sitting around like a dog left at home while the owner goes shopping. Which is what he did the first few times you told him that you would text him when the session was over. He had wandered from the couch, to the dining room chairs and back to the couch so many times in just a few hours that he was sure he was going mad.

It wasn’t until the fourth day of this that something had clicked and he started this routine. You were heavily pregnant now and after the reveal that you’d likely have to get a c-section, he had picked up more chores around the house. He cleans the dishes, takes out the trash, makes your bed and does the laundry. He buys food for the house and keeps everything stocked. Ghost looks at the little sage green onesie in his hands and wonders if the baby will even fit. He saw the size of them, they were going to be a big and fat baby.

Ghost folds the onesie with a skill that had made his hands shake when he first did it. Joseph had been a very fat and happy baby. All smiles and giggles, only crying when hungry or having soiled his nappy. He had big blue eyes that Ghost can still recall with clarity but not without it being soiled with the memory of how those eyes looked when he was dead. Maybe that's why he couldn’t visit Johnny before he was cremated. His and Joseph’s eyes were so similar. He didn’t want the memory of two sets of blue eyes glazed over with the gray of death.

Ghost rubs the soft fabric of the beige pants that went with the white shirt he had just folded. It was soft, non irritating for a baby’s soft and delicate skin. His mind is drawn back to the past, back to when Beth had just finished her own baby shower and there were so many gifts.

Despite Ghost’s family being rather small, Beth’s was not. It had been refreshing and a little overwhelming to have so many people over. But his mum had enjoyed it, she had made so much food that despite the twenty people in that house there were still leftovers.

Beth rested her head against Tommy’s shoulder, tired from all the fuss and talking while Simon gathered up the trash. “You okay love?” Tommy asked softly and cupped Beth’s cheek. Beth smiled up at Simon’s brother and nodded.

“Jus’ tired. That’s all.” Beth yawned and Tommy smiled before he suggested she take a nap while he and Simon cleaned up. Beth didn’t need any convincing and with their mum’s help, waddled up the stairs to their bedroom. Simon kept putting things into the trash bag as Tommy gathered up the collection of blue onesies and outfits. Simon had never imagined Tommy being a father.

He had never envisioned either of them being fathers because of the shit job their father had done. And yet, here was Tommy. Married to a wonderfully kind woman with a baby on the way, clean from drugs and their father left to die from whatever cancers ate away at his body. Good fuckin’ riddiance thought Simon.

“You’re gonna be a good father.” Simon said, not exactly sure where that came from. Tommy smiled at him, brown eyes mirrored each other.

“And you’re gonna be a good uncle.” Tommy said as he folded up another blue onesie. “You’re already a good brother.” Simon shook his head but didn’t argue. He had told the military to fuck off, that he was going on leave to fix up the mess that was his family. He didn’t know how much longer he would be able to stay on hardship leave. Hopefully long enough to see baby Joseph.

“I’m doing what I’m meant to do.” Simon said with a shrug as he stuffed one last pile of ripped apart wrapping paper. “I came back for my family.”

“Thank you Simon.” Tommy placed a hand on Simon’s shoulder. “For making me get better.”

Simon shrugged off his hand, “I only threw the rope, you’re the one who had to climb.”

Ghost rewashes the baby bottles, not interested in the baby drinking from unwashed bottles. He watches the droplets slowly drip from the bottle as he sets them on the drying rack, he swallows as the memories claw up from the depths. He wishes they were happy still and not fucked up with blood and a type of grief that didn’t let go.

He looked down at the baby in his arms. All swaddled in a soft blue blanket with a blue boonie on his head. Baby Joseph. His face was still wrinkled and his eyes were shut, his mouth slightly open as he slept. There were feelings stirring deep within him that he had never felt before. There was this tiny life being held in his hands, hands that had killed and shot off guns that would surely ruin Joseph's hearing. And yet he was the only one holding him as Tommy doted on Beth after some skin to skin contact earlier.

Simon held his breath as Joseph blinked, his little blue eyes unfocused as he stared up at Simon. Joseph squinted and a small toothless smile appeared. “Hi Joseph.” Simon whispered as he looked down at his nephew and he felt tears appear in his eyes. “It's your uncle Simon.” Simon licked his dry lips as Joseph looked up at him, “I’ll protect you. I’ll protect your entire family. Promise.” Simon murmured, so quietly he almost didn’t hear himself say it.

Simon wipes at his eyes as the memory fades and leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He checks his phone just as your text message appears, “I’m ready to be picked up.” Simon wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans before he grabs his keys as he stuffs down the emotions those memories conjure. You are not Beth. Johnny was not Tommy. And he was not going to let anything happen to you or that baby.

#john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #call of duty #cod #soap #ghost x reader #mw3 spoilers #simon ghost riley #thyh #thoyh #simon riley #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost x soap x reader