#losing johnny being the only thing that snaps him out of it and makes him realise that hes in love with him

[penkura]

last forever [3/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: At time of posting, this is the most recent chapter I have finished. Chapter four will be worked on and hopefully posted tomorrow (4/29), then I will update every Monday, hopefully.

Your stress is through the roof, watching Zoro fight against Dracule Mihawk. You're wringing your hands hearing Luffy tell Johnny and Yosaku not to interfere, and it makes you want to jump over and help. You knew this was his plan as soon as name left Johnny's mouth before you all arrived at Baratie, you hadn't gotten the chance to tell him he should wait, and seeing his swords break, the large attack from Mihawk that left him bloodied and Luffy screaming his name now makes you wish you could go back and do that.

"Sis, we need your sewing skills!!"

Johnny and Yosaku brought Zoro onto a small ship manned by Usopp, one you'd probably be taking to go after Nami and bring her and the Merry back.

You're about to jump in and go to them, before remembering the one thing keeping you from doing so.

Damn it, I can't swim!

"You have to bring him over here! You guys know I can't swim!"

"We can't get close enough," Usopp yells and looks between you and Zoro, "He's bleeding really bad!"

Biting your lip, you barely notice Luffy wrapping his arms around you three times before he says your name.

"You're gonna fly!!"

"Wait wha–"

Luffy lifts you up and stretches his arms all the way over, making sure you've touched down on the boat before he lets go, arms snapping back as he tells you to help Zoro. You start getting your supplies ready, your heart pounding in your ears and you barely notice Zoro awake, lifting up Wado Ichimonji and making a promise to Luffy with heavy breaths and tears you've never seen before.

Actually, you've never seen Zoro cry before this day.

"Until I become…the world's greatest swordsman, I swear…I'll never lose again! Got that, King of the Pirates?!"

Hearing Luffy's agreement makes you smile as you stare at Zoro, quickly remembering you have to start stitching him up or he'll bleed to death in this tiny boat. Usopp starts you all in the direction Nami took the Going Merry, while Johnny and Yosaku watch you with tear filled eyes as you stitch up the gash from Mihawk down Zoro's chest, he's nearly fast asleep by the time you finish and cut the thread.

A very quiet word of thanks leaves his mouth before he's asleep, you simply respond telling him not to mention it, rinsing your hands in the sea water. Johnny gives you praise for being able to stitch up such a large wound, Usopp saying you were one of the best he'd ever seen for a makeshift doctor. You hear them, but don't respond, watching Zoro sleep instead. Despite his loss to Mihawk he looks as if he's resting peacefully, and that makes you happy to think about for the time being.

You're quiet as you place a hand on his face, stroking his cheek slightly while telling the others that he'll be alright, before removing your hand from his face.

You'd love to tell him how amazed you are and that you have feelings for him, but now's not the time. Maybe another day, when you aren't chasing down your friend who's stolen your ship and is going off to who knows where, and maybe when Zoro isn't unconscious from nearly bleeding out after taking on a fight he couldn't win (but oh how badly you wanted him to win it).

Right now, you have to focus on Nami.

+!+

How you all have now liberated three towns from Pirates or the threat of Pirates, you aren't sure. Your crew isn't anything like the Pirates your parents had tried to teach you to fear as a child. Luffy was far too kind and really only wanted to be King of the Pirates, but helping Nami came first.

Freeing her home from Arlong and his Fishman Pirates was the main priority of the day, and you were glad to lend a hand. Nami had become your best friend in no time, you had to help her. Even when you were told (ordered really) to stay back by Zoro, you made sure you were ready to help if needed.

And you tried. Tried to pull Zoro away after he'd beaten Hachi and was on the verge of collapse from a fever and his wounds from Mihawk, but he tried to shove you away and tell you he was fine despite the dizzied look he had. Arlong ripping his stitches out caused you to try again, trying to help him, but you were stopped by Johnny and Yosaku pulling you back, telling you not to bother because you'd just die.

Even seeing Luffy swap places with Zoro terrified you that he was going to be even more badly injured, but you were still held back by your old friends through the end of Luffy's fight against Arlong, finally freeing Nami and her hometown.

Your biggest concern afterwards was Zoro, but when you saw him later that day with a drink in hand you knew he was fine. Most of your time at the party was spent with Nami and her sister Nojiko, listening to Usopp tell his stories to the kids, and sharing Sanji's food with Luffy. Every now and then you'd look for and find Zoro, a few times smiling brightly at him when you caught his eye, which made him look away from you immediately.

Sanji, still brand new to the crew, noticed the looks you and Zoro shared that night. You were strange, your relationship with him, whatever it was, was strange to him.

Even stranger, he notices you leave Nami and Nojiko at one point, hurrying over to Zoro and latching onto his arm, making him lean in to hear whatever you had to say. He rolls his eyes while you smile, but doesn't shake you off, letting you move his arm around your shoulders while he has another drink.

You're weird, both of you. The rest of the crew isn't phased at all by the two of you being so buddy-buddy, but Sanji wonders what you two have going on. Are you together? How long have you known each other? Surely you only met when you each joined Luffy, right?

When Zoro leaves you to go look for Luffy, food, or another drink, whatever it is, you seem content to be left alone, until Sanji sees your shoulders drop and you look almost like you're going to cry. Maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him, he's not sure.

But if Zoro said or did something to upset you, Sanji was going to make sure the swordsman paid for it.

+!+

The majority of your crew doesn't know of your struggles with nightmares. Normally they take the form of your parents, the man they were going to force you to marry, and being trapped in a loveless life in your home village where most treated their children like property to be sold. Your only solace there being your older brother who was protective over you. Being the one to help you run away, making you swear to never come back and to take his sword to protect yourself after he'd spent the last few years teaching you how to use it.

You were good at keeping those demons to yourself, to not worry anyone. The nightmares had been less lately anyway, you felt safe with everyone around. The six of you on your way to Loguetown, you and Nami snatching up the office area as your room, both turning in late in the night after long talks about numerous things.

Your bad dreams, however, took a new form that night. This time, the dream takes you back to Baratie, back to Zoro's fight against Mihawk, and instead of him waking long enough for his promise to Luffy, you're sitting beside him while he bleeds from the wound and you're unable to move. You can't bring yourself to start stitching him up, and before anything else happens, you've woken up.

While it wasn't as bad as the dreams about your parents, it was enough to shock you awake and into a seated position on your bed. Nami is still fast asleep in her own bed, apparently not having noticed or heard your heavy breathing from the nightmare. You don't know why your nightmares took this turn, you'd much rather deal with seeing your parents in your dreams than seeing your closest friend and ally dying in front of you, even though he was just down the hall and alive.

It's several minutes of tossing and turning before you decide to get up and sneak off to the boys' bunks, turning back to your habit you'd been determined to stop as more crewmates joined, but you can't help it.

The past nightmares have been enough to make you slip into bed with Zoro before, he never fought you over it and let you stay, let you continue when it was just the two of you, but with more friends you worried they'd all get the wrong idea.

And maybe they will, but if Zoro doesn't mind and it helps you sleep, they shouldn't complain or tease you. Hopefully.

Usopp and Luffy are both spread out on the floor, making you have to tiptoe around them to get to Zoro's hammock, not even registering that Sanji's is empty.

You're quiet while you slip in and under the blanket, wrapping your arms around Zoro and making yourself comfortable. You figured he was asleep when you walked in, but his hand moves to grab one of your own, thumb stroking the back of your hand while he waits to hear if you say anything.

You don't, Zoro doesn't mind, he knows you won't tell him the contents of your nightmares anymore, not after the first one. If you're unable to sleep, he's glad to let you join him and keep you safe. He promised he would do so, helping keep your demons away so you could rest.

Unfortunately, your peaceful sleep is interrupted early in the morning by Sanji shouting at Zoro to get off you, like he'd done something wrong when you were the one to climb into his hammock.

"What do you think you're doing to [Y/N]-chan, you moss head?! Get your hands off her!"

A pillow lands on your face, likely aimed for Zoro, but it misses him due to the fact his face is buried in your shoulder while one arm is around you. Normally your face would be red at this, but with Sanji still nearly screeching for Zoro to "unhand" you, all you can think about is crawling in a hole and dying.

Zoro gets fed up and eventually lets you go, taking the pillow that disturbed you both and throwing it back at Sanji with twice the force.

"Shut up already!! You're going to wake the whole damn East blue!"

"I will as soon as you stop violating sweet [Y/N]!"

Yeah you really want to just up and die right now.

"Who's violating her?!"

"You are, you savage!"

"How do I violate my own wife when she's the one that crawled into my bed?!"

Everything goes quiet, you don't want to know what look is on Sanji's face at the moment, but you're grateful for Nami coming in and telling everyone to shut up, even though she's a moment too late. Luffy and Usopp were awake and just watching the scene unfold, until Zoro's statement which makes Usopp's eyes go wide and Luffy laughs. He just knew you two wouldn't be able to keep this secret.

You're so embarrassed that you pull the blanket up over your now definitely bright red face, wishing Zoro and Sanji didn't feel the need to egg each other on and instigate all these petty fights.

When you finally decide to look and see what's going on, Luffy's still laughing, Nami is confused, Zoro's still got a glare set on Sanji, while your chef and Usopp are both looking at the two of you wide eyed, disbelief on their faces before there's one outburst from Sanji.

"Your WHAT?!"

+!+

It feels like an interrogation. You're in the kitchen still in your pajamas with Usopp and Sanji both questioning you and Zoro about your little marriage, Nami and Luffy enjoying breakfast to your side.

Zoro's completely unbothered by the whole thing, answering Sanji's questions with an annoyed look, while you answer Usopp's inquiries with your face still red from the way everyone was woken up that morning.

Eventually, they come to realize you two are only married to prevent the arranged one your parents set up, making Sanji sigh in relief and Usopp is slightly concerned but seems to understand.

“So, one more time,” you just can’t look at Usopp while he relays your situation once again, “You and Zoro got married to prevent you being forced into an arranged marriage, but you’re going to annul?”

You nod, taking glances at Zoro, who continues to glare at Sanji for waking you both too early. All of this was too much first thing in the morning, and you both had decided to keep this little marriage a secret from any new recruits, wanting only Luffy and Nami to know because you’d both slipped up with calling each other husband and wife without thinking about it in front of them.

"And you're just waiting for your parents to say something?"

You nod again at Sanji's question. "It's weird, I know but…I just can't go back there. My older brother told me never to go back, or I'd definitely be forced into that marriage."

"Your parents suck." Luffy nodded, still eating his breakfast when you look over at him with a smile. "But we'll keep you safe! We'll fight anyone that tries to take you from us!"

"No one's forcing you back home," Zoro doesn't look at you, instead moving to leave and start his training for the day despite not having breakfast yet, "I'll make sure of that."

There's something in the way he says it, as you thank everyone, that makes Sanji lean back in his seat and watch Zoro leave. Even with you both stating you were not in love and were going to annul the marriage as soon as you heard from your parents, Sanji swears there's something weird about the way Zoro treats you.

It might just be friendship, but it feels like something more that neither of you are saying. You absolutely could be hiding real feelings for each other, he knows that, the way you two speak to each other and work together seems to say so, but until either of you say anything, Sanji isn't willing to believe this is anything more than a sham marriage.

There's something else, he's noticed in his short time with you all, in the way you look at Zoro, the way you speak to him as well. Zoro's a tough guy, but you speak so gently and kindly to him, it's almost like you really are his wife and want to stay that way. Maybe it's just your dynamic since you two have known each other much longer than the other Straw Hats, but Sanji isn't convinced. You and Usopp break him out of his train of thought by asking for breakfast, which he proceeds to provide you both with a grin, deciding he'll have to ask you another time if you have feelings for the moss head swordsman. If your heart's already taken, he'll gladly leave you be, despite his rivalry with Zoro.

#zoro x reader #roranoa zoro x reader #one piece x reader #reader insert #last forever

[s0fter-sin]

AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S GOT ITS TEETH IN ME BUT I’M ABOUT TO BITE BACK IN ANGER

#take me back to eden is so ghost coded it kills me #like im shit at lyric interpretation ill fully admit that but it Screams ghost #‘i spit blood when i wake up sink porcelain stained choking up brain matter and makeup’ #‘room feels like a meat freezer i dangle in it like cold cuts’ SCREAMING BITING BITING BITING #its the butcher hanging from a meat hook imagery for me lads i Cant #and my god the soapghost of it all #just ghost lashing out bc he cant understand soaps attention #rejecting his affection and his care bc hes never felt a kind touch without it becoming cruel #and i know we dont acknowledge mw3 but #‘i guess it goes to show does it not? that we've no idea what we've got until we lose it #and no amount of love will keep it around if we don't choose it’ #losing johnny being the only thing that snaps him out of it and makes him realise that hes in love with him #‘no amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence’ that realisation turning his love inward and fracturing into hate #he couldve been with johnny they couldve been happy together #so he cracks and destroys every enemy he comes across as he hunts down makarov #leaving price and gaz behind as he lets vengeance consume himself #‘i have travelled far beyond the path of reason take me back to eden take me back to eden’ #but bc fuck mw3 soap lives and ghost finds him and they live happily ever after #coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt #ghoap #soapghost #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #john soap mactavish #soap cod #take me back to eden #we’re a team. ghost team

[ceilidho]

prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 3; ghoap x reader) part 1, part 2

-

“What is this anyway—‘bring your girlfriend to work’ day?”

She’s snarky as ever, but with an agitated edge. Nerves prickling when Johnny holds her jacket out for her to slip her arms into. Even that makes her snap—something about not being a toddler that Johnny needs to help dress, but by then his head is in the clouds. In another place altogether. 

The prospect of getting to parade his new girl around leaves him giddy, fox-like grin hard to squash. He doesn’t suppress anything, finds it hard to push things down. When he does, it’s often unconscious. 

She doesn’t like the way he savours her anxiety like a fine wine, sniffs it from the top of her head and groans out his breath, cackling when she tries to stomp on his foot to make him go away. He dances away with her coat, light and nimble on his feet because he’s used to ducking and weaving for her affection. 

“The guys wanna meet ye,” he repeats for the umpteenth time. It’s surprising how many times he’s had to say it. 

“Why? Haven’t they ever met a girl before?” she gripes, swallowing now, her stomach probably cramping and poor bonnie lass, Johnny thinks. His poor, pretty girl is trying to put on a brave face when he knows she prefers being in the backroom of her little flower shop, snipping off stalks and tying pretty bows around pretty bouquets. He wishes he could keep her back there forever—put a lock on the door and come only to smother her in kisses and gorge himself on every inch of her—but there’s a whole wide world demanding his attention. 

“Aye, hen, never a lass as cute and sweet as ye,” he crows, ducking a hand that punches through the sleeve of her jacket in his direction. 

In the car, he drops the facade. Loses his teasing edge. It’s a violent removal, like jolting awake to the sound of someone sawing away at a catalytic converter. If his smile is saccharine, it’s really only a smokescreen concealing the apprehension bubbling away in his belly. 

He drums his fingers on the steering wheel on the drive back to base. Heart in his throat, choking his words and rendering him quiet for once in his life. He hears Ghost’s voice in his head, a low rumbling laugh, tectonic plates shifting beneath his feet. These days, his voice acts as a lodestar, the thing steering Johnny home. 

Months ago, it was the only thing between him and annihilation, the ice cold maelstrom dragging him deeper into its maw. Guiding him through the valley of death. The wound in his arm still aches in the first light of day. His sleep is still wracked by dreams of running down alleys and ducking into houses, the rain pattering against the window panes ominous, a ticking clock, each step having to be precise, calculated, each movement quieter than quiet, fading into the shadows, a cool heart and mind bested by agony from the bulletwound in his shoulder.

And then—Ghost’s voice, low and soothing in his ear, shattering the pain. Ghost’s voice in his ear telling him where to go, how to survive. 

It’s hard to explain. Johnny’s tried. It’s like talking in circles when he opens his mouth and tries to get it out. I trust him with everything in me. He could do anything to me, anything. 

He is no less capable, no less competent. His rank demands respect, and he takes what’s due to him. Since Las Almas, he’s worked across a medley of other teams, even solo a time or two. It changes nothing. He still wakes in a sweat, chasing that voice. It takes him back into the real world. The days burn into the fringes of a memory that he is always living.

“Should I know anyone’s name before we get there?”

Her voice breaks through the noise in his head this time. It’s every bit as precious. 

“What d’ye mean, hen?” he asks, clucking his tongue. Sweats a bit when he realizes how far down the motorway they are now, how long it’s been since he checked out, lost in his thoughts. One hand rests loose on her leg, fingers spread wide and thumb gliding up and down her outer thigh, the other still holding the wheel. 

The pinched look has mostly fallen off from her face, but there’s still a tremble in her lower lip when she says, “Well, I don’t know any of your friends. I wouldn’t introduce you to my friends without telling you their names first.”

“No’ my friends, hen—we’re coworkers.”

She looks over at him from the corner of her eye. “I’m friends with my coworkers.”

Johnny shrugs. “It’s no’ the same with guys. Couldnae tell you fuck all about any of them except their names, to be honest.”

“Oh, don’t give me that—you’re not friends with a single one of them? No one?”

No hunger without resistance. His mouth goes bone dry. He’d be wise to learn that. 

He swallows. “Maybe a few.”

No transaction without accountability. Ghost saves his life and now Johnny has to pay that debt back tenfold. Sinking into the crease of Simon’s voice late at night, clutching it to his chest. Breathing it out. Maybe they are friends. 

He’s a bit show-offy at the base gates, dangling his ID card out the window pinched between two fingers. The civilian guard on duty just waves him on, scanning it only for the sake of the logs. His tires spin in the dirt when he guns it down the stretch of road leading into the base, windows still all the way down. Her hair whips around in the wind until she gathers it all up in her fist and shrieks at him to roll the windows up. 

Johnny enjoys showing off. That’s a core aspect of who he is, his charm. Braggadocious, confident in the way he looks, his physical prowess, his lot in life—so why would that change with his girl? He holds her close with an arm around her waist when he drags her through the rec centre, the building closest to where they parked. 

He gets lost in conversation for longer than expected. Pure gloating about the girl he’s managed to bag. Cooing in her ear when he feels her get a bit uneasy, still timid around the other guys despite having him at her side. He supposes that’s fair. She’s more comfortable around the women on base, a bit freer with her greeting and questions, but there’s still a pinch in her brow that never smooths all the way over.

It takes a while to find anyone that he knows. There are plenty of sergeants and corporals that he’s worked with before, familiar faces and names, but Johnny still glances around the room while they make light conversation with his girl, searching. Looking for something familiar, something that’ll reel him in, make him perk up like a dog catching a scent. 

They cross Gaz in a random hallway on the way to the comm centre, hardly recognizable at first with the darker stubble of his beard grown out. He must’ve just come back from wherever he’d been shipped off to the month previous, no time to shave or clean up. He even smells of old sweat when Johnny leans in for a hug. 

“Is this—?” Gaz glances over at her just once while the question dangles in the air. He looks back over at Johnny. 

They lock eyes. A silent exchange of meaning. 

“Aye,” Johnny nods, steering her in front of him with both hands on her shoulders, showing his girl off like a kid with a new toy. Eyes glinting like, don’t say a word. “Brought her in to meet everyone.”

A molasses slow smile spreads across Gaz’s face. It’s clear why men like him always get the girl. Johnny’s hands tighten on her shoulders. “Nice to meet you—thought John would hide you away forever.”

She glances up at him through her lashes. “You talked about me?”

Gaz shakes his head. “Not as much as you’d think. Took Ghost ages to get it out of him.”

Johnny flushes. “Did no’. Jus’ ‘cause I don’ blab about everything under the fuckin’ sun doesnae mean—”

“John says you’re a florist,” Gaz interrupts, turning the conversation back to her. Her lips split up into a mischievous little grin, delighted at the turnabout, probably delighted at seeing Johnny stumble over his words.

Something about her teasing grin gets his dick hard. More points to the rapidly disintegrating belief that he doesn’t have a humiliation kink. He leans forward, pressing it into her ass, delighted himself when she shoots him a dirty look over her shoulder but doesn’t pull away. 

“So, where’s everybody?” Johnny asks casually, trying not to make it too obvious who he’s referring to. The look Gaz gives him is unimpressed. He keeps running into that brick wall, his thoughts written out on his forehead, obvious to everyone around him. 

“Everyone?” Gaz repeats sceptically. 

“Aye.” His voice is tight, warning. “Everyone.”

“Ghost’s actually on his way here now, I think. We got called over to HQ—s’where I was headed, actually.”

“I dinnae say anything about Ghost, now did I—,” Johnny grumbles, but the words dissolve in his mouth when the man in question comes into the room. 

Sometimes, Johnny has the pleasure of seeing Ghost round a corner. The split second pleasure of being the observer, of dragging his eyes up and over, his chest bursting with a light like dawn cresting behind mountains and splitting the sky. In the field, he’s often deprived of that; becomes used to experiencing the phenomenon of Ghost melting out of the shadows, sometimes scaring the daylights out of him. 

It’s what happens now though. Glancing up on a whim only to see a man round the corner of the hallway leading out of the rec centre, shirt stretched out maddeningly over his arms and chest, muscles bulging like he just came from the gym, still pumped. The shirt’s a little threadbare, something old and worn, and Johnny’s seen it a million and a half times he figures; it leaves so little to the imagination that he’s joked about Ghost busting it at the seams from time to time, only to be met with a steady, aloof stare. 

There’s something to be said about how he’s drawn to people who refuse to scratch him behind the ears until he’s more than proven himself. He works tirelessly for Ghost’s approval, for his girl’s approval. Dogs with their bones, tigers with their stripes. 

He has a balaclava pulled over his face, just a simple black one this time, the underside of his eyes darkened by eyeblack hastily scrubbed off the night before, probably. His eyes scan the crowd, locking on Johnny and Gaz almost instantly. It’s the mark of a good soldier—he doesn’t flounder in the dark. Always finds his target, like a sixth sense for knowing when he’s being watched. 

Ghost course-corrects upon noticing them, crossing the room in a handful of seconds. The curt, “Johnny,” he gets is a bounty, a treasure. He grins back when Ghost glances down at the girl at his side. “That your bird?” 

“Told ye I’d bring her in—s’long as everyone’s on their best behaviour, of course.”

Gaz snorts. “Good luck with that.”

Ghost must cock an eyebrow because he can see the fabric of his mask shift. “Pretty.”

He can’t help the way he preens at that. Tucked away by his side again, Johnny can feel his girl squirm, but he pays it no mind. She’s shy—he’s known that from day one, from the first time she stumbled out from the back of the flower shop and scrunched her nose up at his attempts at flirting. 

Admiration is a smooth, buttery feeling. It keeps him aloft while another couple of servicemen take interest in their conversation and come over, Johnny’s girl at the centre of everyone’s attention. He’d be pricklier about it if he didn’t have a firm hand on her waist, keeping her pressed to his side. 

He soaks up the attention. Drinks it up when someone asks his girl a question and Johnny answers for her or pinches her cheek when she manages to pipe up before him. He knows he’ll get read the riot act when he takes her back home later, but he might be able to convince her to ride him while berating him for talking over her. Might beg her to slap him and spit in his mouth—say it’s the only way he’ll learn his lesson.

Dirty dog.

It strikes him that maybe he’s picked up some bad habits in recent months. He’s never been one to overthink, to worry and fret. Yet, he toils in it now, shovels coals into the furnace of it and gives it life. 

His shoulders go slack, the tension finally ebbing out of him. No longer dogged by the incessant fear that his girl is going to run away, bolt at the first loud noise, or that someone’s going to pluck her up out of his arms. She seems comfortable if anything. 

He’s been overthinking all of this, wrapped up in his head. He can breathe out, unclench. 

When Ghost shifts to stand closer to them, he glances over because that’s where his gaze always goes these days. Seeking Ghost out, finding him in a crowd; looking for his North Star wherever he is, wherever he goes. 

Only to watch in mute horror as, in plain sight, not trying to be discreet or hide it from anyone, Ghost gropes his girlfriend’s ass in front of everyone on base. Just reaches out a big hand and fondles her ass, digging his fingers into the cheek. She freezes, back ramrod straight as she stares ahead, eyes going a bit blank. 

He fails whatever test this is, mouth too dry for any words to come out. Humiliation burns him from the inside out. Another sergeant that he’s worked with before frowns, glancing over at Johnny. Neither of them say a word. 

Ghost tilts his head, staring down at his hand on her ass like he’s contemplating its plushness. Admiring it. With how Johnny stands on one side and Ghost the other, the two of them bracket her, like the soft centre of their trio; nowhere for her to go, a handler on either side. That’s wrong though. Ghost is not her handler—Johnny hardly is, more of a self-appointed one. 

Still he—

He lets it happen.

Contention dies a bloody death in his mouth, massacred. Mangled. He lets Ghost sink his fingers into his girlfriend’s backside and hum a little under his breath before finally pulling his hand away. The others look at him, waiting for Johnny’s reaction with bated breath. A reaction that never comes because it gets strangled in Johnny’s throat. 

“Nice meeting the bird,” Ghost finally says, voice a decibel lower, rough enough to scrape. “Gaz and I’ve got shit to do now. Be ready on the tarmac by oh-seven-hundred tomorrow, Johnny.” 

He grips Johnny by the shoulder before heading off, like he didn’t just grope Johnny’s girlfriend. Like he didn’t just reach down and grab a handful of her ass like it was his to feel up. And Johnny just nods. A placid, docile thing under Ghost’s hand, bobbing his head like a doll. 

Then Ghost leaves, Gaz trailing after him, looking back about a half dozen times to see if Johnny will suddenly follow them until he’s forced to job to catch up to Ghost, the man already yards away, longer legs carrying him fast out of the building. 

They don’t talk on the drive back to her apartment, the inside of the car tense and uncertain. Johnny walks her to the door when he lets her off, but it’s a formality, a chaste kiss at the door instead of the rough fuck that he’d envisioned to send her off. Despite the hard set of her jaw, she doesn’t lambast him like Johnny expected. The silence is worse though, haunting when she shuts the door in his face. 

The drive back to base after the drop off is agonizing in a whole new way. Still pent up, cock heavy in his pants, and fingers drumming over the steering wheel twice as fast now. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do? What he wants to do is turn around at the closest gap between both sides of the motorway and speed all the way back, knock on her door until his knuckles blister and bleed, until she opens the door and lets him in, lets Johnny push her to the floor in the entryway and spread her legs, welcoming him in. 

Until she lets him fit his fingers into the marks left behind by Ghost’s hand. 

Cold fire rising up off his bones, and then something hot. And wet. 

The next day at breakfast in the mess, one of the guys says something like, “If Ghost was into my girl, that’s the last you’d see of me and her,” and his mind goes blank and he goes over the table.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #soap/reader #ghoap x reader #ghost/soap/reader

[domnamewoman]

I was wondering if I could request an angst we’re all of the MK 2023 characters S/O get turned injured severely by Titian Shang Tsung (could have a happy end, could not…up too you!)

Characters: Liu Kang, Raiden, Kung Lao, Johnny Cage, Kenshi Takahashi, Kitana, Mileena, Tanya, Sub-Zero, Scorpion, Smoke, Reptile, Baraka, Shang Tsung, Rain

Warnings: Angst 😭, Canon-Typical Violence

Masterlist

Requests Are Open

Liu Kang’s heart stopped as he saw your body lying there, lifeless on the ground. He bent down to cradle you in his arms as tears fell from his eyes. He couldn’t believe it, the love of his life was now gone. He blamed himself for not getting there in time. Why was fate always so cruel, was he really destined to be alone? No, no he wouldn’t accept it. He was the Keeper of Time. He would reverse time and make sure that he is here to prevent such a horrid outcome. He would end Titan Shang Tsung once and for all.

Raiden felt as though he could throw up as he looked at your unconscious body lying in the bed. Titan Shang Tsung had blasted you off a cliff and you hit your head on a rock when you landed. The physician told Raiden that you were in a coma from the head injury. There was no telling when you would wake up or if you ever would. Raiden held your hand and rested his forehead on it as he let his tears fall. All he could do was stay by your side and wait. And he would, even if it was forever.

Kung Lao was angry. At himself for not being there, at the physicians for not being able to save you, but mostly at Titan Shang Tsung. He was the cause of all of this. Kung Lao placed one last kiss on your lips as he promised you to get revenge. He would stop at nothing to see Titan Shang Tsung taken down. He pushed his grief to the side and focused on making a plan to get to Titan Shang Tsung. He would grieve once his promise to you was fulfilled.

Johnny Cage struggled to find meaning in anything anymore. Without you, there just wasn’t any point to life for Johnny. Who cared about the movies, or the awards, or even saving Earthrealm from destruction? He couldn’t bring you back by doing any of it so he deemed it all useless. Johnny stopped trying, losing his arrogance and bravado. How great is “Johnny Cage” if he can’t even save his love? He was nothing but a failure in his eyes now and that’s how he would live.

Kenshi Takahashi felt all the joy in his life slipping away as he felt your blood slip through his fingers where he was applying pressure to your wound. He tried to smile and reassure you that the physician was on their way and you would make it out alive but he knew it was too late. He knelt there, helpless as you exhaled your final breath, going completely limp. Kenshi sat there with you in his arms for hours, pushing away Johnny and Kung Lao as they tried to get him to let you go. He couldn’t, not ever.

Kitana released a scream as she heard your neck snap at the hands of Titan Shang Tsung. Why? Why did it have to be you to charge at him? Why didn’t you listen to her when she told you to wait? Why couldn’t she move fast enough to prevent this from happening? Kitana gripped your shirt and cried into your chest as the fight continued around her. How was she supposed to go on? But she had to, for you. It’s what you would have wanted her to do. She vows to you as she grabs her bladed fans that she will avenge your death.

Mileena spent all of her time trying to find someone to help you. She was the Empress and she would spare no cost of getting the best physicians, the best medicine, whatever was needed to accelerate your healing process. The court could be mad all they wanted, but she didn’t care about her duties. Her only priority right now was seeing you healthy and back on your feet again. The only thing that could distract her from this is any updates on Titan Shang Tsung’s whereabouts. She would make sure that he died by her hands for harming her love.

Tanya watched in unbelief as Titan Shang Tsung stuck his claws deep into your abdomen. You crumpled to the ground, coughing up blood. Tanya rushed over and held you in her arms. She didn’t know how could she let this happen. She was Umgadi for goodness sake. And yet, she could protect her love from danger. She pulled you out of the path of battle, making sure you were as comfortable as you could be as she applied pressure to your wounds. She would make sure that you survived no matter what.

Bi-Han was filled with rage. Titan Shang Tsung dared to take his love away from him. How could Bi-Han call himself Earthrealm’s protector when he couldn’t even protect you? No, he would make Titan Shang Tsung pay for what he did. Bi-Han would gather all of the Lin Kuei and hunt him down. No longer was their purpose protecting Earthrealm. Their only mission was to kill Titan Shang Tsung to avenge the death of his lover. Nothing else mattered or was more important to him.

Kuai Liang couldn’t control the fire rolling off of his body as he saw you there unmoving, at Titan Shang Tsung’s feet. He rushed toward him, swinging out his chained knives aiming for his head. Kuai Liang fought with everything in him, letting his anger fuel his fire. He didn’t worry about his own well-being, what was the point now that you were gone? He ignored all the pain from his injuries and pressed on. He would put an end to Titan Shang Tsung, or he would die trying.

Tomas ran with all his might holding on to your limp body. He had to get you to a physician and quick. He couldn’t, no, he wouldn’t lose another family member. After his family was killed and he joined the Lin Kuei, he thought he would never have to go through heartache like that again. He couldn’t imagine a world without you. He pleaded with you to stay with him as he looked down at you taking shallow breaths. He ignored the burning in his legs and he pushed himself to run faster. He won’t lose you too.

Syzoth didn’t believe what they told him when he arrived at the palace. How could you be dead? It wasn’t possible. While he was out on a mission Titan Shang Tsung attacked? No, no that couldn’t be. He continued to deny it until they brought him to see your body. This couldn’t be happening to him again. Why could he never protect his loved ones? Why did he always have to be left completely alone? He will get his revenge. He will take away everything that Titan Shang Tsung has ever held dear.

Baraka knew that fate could be cruel when he got infected with Tarkat. But he thought he would be allowed some form of happiness in his life. That proved to be wrong when you were killed, leaving him all alone. Baraka could feel his sanity slipping. He was left with nothing yet again. The only one he loved was taken from him. All he could think about was shredding Titan Shang Tsung into pieces. He would turn into the savage beast everyone thought he was. He had nothing more to lose.

Shang Tsung couldn’t believe you were killed. To make matters worse, it was at the hands of his doppelganger. Shang Tsung would question what type of person he was for there to be a version of himself out there that would commit such a heinous act. Shang Tsung would practice all the sorcery in the world to find a way to bring you back. He didn’t care how many souls he had to steal. Starting with the soul of Titan Shang Tsung. He would prove that he was the best version in all timelines.

Zeffeero dropped to his knees in front of your lifeless body. What was it all for? He spent all his time trying to get power and status and for what? Just for the beloved to no longer be a part of his life? Zeffeero looked up, no one seemed to notice you, the most important person to him, lying on the cold ground. No, they didn’t get to go on with their lives like nothing happened. He would ruin their lives just like his now was. He would rain down an endless flood and drown them all.

#domnamewoman #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #baraka x reader #johnny cage x reader #kitana x reader #kung lao x reader #liu kang x reader #kuai liang x reader #bi han x reader #tomas vrbada x reader #syzoth x reader #raiden x reader #mileena x reader #tanya x reader #rain x reader #shang tsung x reader #kenshi takahashi x reader #mk1 #reaction

[yandere-kokeshi]

What is a general hc for yandere Soap?

Warnings: Yandere behavior, military + talks about trauma and PTSD, kidnapping, and dubcon (not in detail)

A/N: Sure!! Sorry this took extremely long. I've been struggling with my health. Hope this was okay <3.

Gif and icons are NOT mine; the gif belongs to @/bunnygifs. As for the icons, I'm not sure. If you do find the artist/or are the artist, please contact me so I can credit you!

Soap is a very complicated person. Underneath his nice Jester Act, he’s an extremely manipulative, obsessive, and possessive man in every aspect possible. He owns you; you own him, vice versa.

He’s two faced with you, only if you’re capable of staying one way. Much like Jekyll and Hyde.

Johnny wasn’t sure what was so addicting about you, but he knew you were the one for him. The very first time he saw you, he was immediately smitten and approaching you with a wide smile. Flirting and wooing his ways with you as his cheeks flushed with pink, legs like jello and hands sweating as his mind was overloaded with question after question. While Soap’s not easy to fall for someone, he couldn’t help but see that you were incredibly attractive; as well as interesting and a genuine person.

It definitely makes more sense if you were on the team. Price bringing you in as a new recruit; a needed medic or another soldier that finds him just as perky, or annoying.

Or, in any other story, you could be a civilian who he had met while living next door. The apartment complex getting lonely, and somehow, the cheeky bastard showed up with a welcoming smile and a few of his buddies helping him move in. Wouldn’t it be nice to know him, no?

Despite these two — Soap would quickly realize he needed you. The calls weren’t enough. The hourly talks weren’t enough. Nothing was never enough because you weren’t his. And you certainly made him lose his mind.

Either way, you’ve caught the eye of a man who’s incredibly hard to get rid of. His name speaks loudly in certain situations when he’s with you.

That being said, Johnny is always around you — in and out of the battlefield. He’s always trying to engage with whatever you’re doing.

Gonna head out and get a drink from a bar a couple of minutes down the road? Why not let him come along? Catch up on some things, plus the two of you could play truth-to-drink.

Need to go grocery shopping? Let him drive with you! He would feel safer going with you, plus, he needs to restock his fridge. Wherever you are, he’s there; even with and without your knowledge.

Soap is a huge softie with you. Even Ghost and Price see it. It’s clear that he likes you, which leaves him doing it the ‘original’ way. He will go all out and woo your heart; going as far as to buy your favorite flowers or go get that movie you haven’t seen in ages. He pays attention closely to the conversations you two have, so expect gifts to come.

This also means that he dislikes people around you, his blue eyes turning into daggered icicles that talk to you. And those who don’t get his signals, he gets aggressive, which isn’t a pretty sight.

He makes it clear that you’re off limits and stares at anyone who looks at you too long or simply the wrong way. While he acts incredibly sweet and kind in front of you, the minute you turn around, his smile is gone and staring into the person’s poor soul until they run away with their tail between their legs.

Johnny is the type to overcompensate things, which can be annoying. He’s overbearing — almost suffocating to the point you may or may not snap at him to knock it off or leave you alone. He will act like an overprotective boyfriend, even if the two of you are not dating.

Because of this, you’ll likely lose a bunch, if mostly of your friends or close family members. At the end of the day, he’s sitting right beside you as he comforts you from the losses. I mean, he’s better than them, right?

Soap is more on the jealous side. While he knows he’s attractive and strong - likely your type - he just can’t help but pop his knuckles in pure annoyance whenever he sees you talking to someone he feels is a threat. Soap will try his best to be always around you, keeping an arm or hand on you at all times, showing people he has an interest in you or that you’re dating.

And because of his severe jealousy, he’s a master at manipulation. He’s very persuasive with his words, especially with his sweet and dirty talk.

He’s always guiding, keeping you away from people he deems bad, and whenever you question it, Johnny always smiles before telling you not to worry about it. By the end of the day, you’re in his house with him locking the door.

With how insane he is, and just how devoted he’s with you, you’re gonna be kidnapped. Even if you’re already in love, he can not stand people talking or keeping you away from him. He wants you by himself.

Your safety is his top priority. The minute it’s threatened, even by a friend invading your space or seeing you uncomfortable in public, all his nice and flirtatious mask is thrown out the window and goes berserk. He’s not afraid to swing, kick, or even draw high amounts of blood if it means that you’re safe.

Now, the minute he can call you "his" is the second he really shows his colors; being a cheeky bastard and a manipulative prick. Of course, he’s a natural flirt and will tease or woo you every damn chance he gets.

Soap is very open with affection. In all types of shapes, but he mainly shows it through gifts and physical affection. He’ll randomly give you rocks with specific names and expects you to remember.

Or cuddling you closer to his body, hand instinctively curling around your hips and lips sucking in deep bruises. His favorite part with you is rolling in bed with you, tracing your body marks as he rubs his face into your belly.

Soap is incredibly clingy. It gets worse when he gets home after being out for a long time of not seeing you.

Once he’s home, whether that’s from a mission or simply spending the day shopping for necessary items, he will not leave you alone. His arms are always on you, grasping and pulling you in for cuddles and his Scottish slangs whispering in your tinted ears for more attention.

Punishments come in waves– and if you’ve broken them, even ignoring his final warnings with tsks, it isn’t pretty.

Usually, he figures a good fuck with sorta ye out, no? With the amount of orgasms and pretty begs you let out, he’s certain you won’t break them again, correct?

But, if that doesn’t work, he’ll put a chain around your ankle, keeping you in bed and treating you the same as if you didn’t do anything. Slowly but surely, driving you insane until you say sorry.

Soap is excellent at spying and has no shame if he’s caught, even by you. You won’t be allowed to shut any doors, even if you are using the bathroom or showering. But, you wouldn’t mind him coming in, would you?

—

My masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

#kokeshi!! #yandere soap #yandere cod #yandere call of duty #yandere mw2 #yandere modern warfare #yandere x reader #yandere blog #yandere male #male yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere x gn reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x willing reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x gender neutral reader #soft yandere #yandere john MacTavish #soap mctavish x reader #yandere john x reader #yandere mw2 x reader #john mctavish #johnny mctavish #yandere headcannons #yandere #yandere games #the icons are not mine #they belong to their rightful owners #kitty-chan33

[spectres-n-soap]

Your Warmth is Fading - Soap x You x Ghost

Content Warnings - pregnancy complications, hospital stuff

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

It was late at night, long past visiting hours but your nightmare still haunted you. The taste of bile still lingered on your tongue and sweat still stuck to your skin. At least your breathing returned to normal. The quiet of the military hospital room was off putting but the machine showed Soap was still alive. The pattern of his heart beat, the IV bags hung up and the soft breathing of his soothed you.

You slinked over to the chair next to his bed and sat down. Soap looked better, no longer on death's doorstep even if all the tubes and wires connected to him unsettled you. His face was relaxed despite the discoloration of his right cheek. You thought back to what the doctor who had first reviewed the two of you had said. The comment was still bitter in your mouth. The doctor had called you both lucky. What a load of shite. Luck would have stopped it all from happening in the first place.

You kept an eye on Soap a little longer until sleep started to pull at you again. You stood up and before you left, your lips grazed his forehead. At least he was still alive.

"You're joking." you say, looking at the doctor with your brows pinched so tight you could feel your skin pulling tight.

"You should be in bed rest for the last month of your pregnancy." the doctor reiterated. "For your safety and the baby's." Simon looks between you and the doctor. He wants to side with the doctor and also strangle him. How could he have not caught this sooner? "Your baby being positioned like this will only cause more harm to your body the longer you move around.”

You shake your head, anger making your face turn hot. Those fucking Braxton Hicks hadn't been all Braxton Hicks but a major sign of your baby, Johnny's baby, being sideways. If it wasn't so fucking terrible you might be laughing. "How did you not catch this sooner?" you snarl.

"This is why we insist on check ups every week. So we can catch things like this.”

"But what about all the other check ups?" you huff and sit up, grasping onto Simon's arm for a little extra support. "What if you had missed it completely?”

"Ma'am please, getting aggressive will not do any of us any good.”

"A month I have to spend doing nothing." you grumble and cross your arms over your chest. You wonder, a thing you've been doing often, how Johnny would react to all of this. Wonder if he would be spitting mad and yelling at the doctor with a thick Scottish accent. You can almost hear it. Pulling from memories of him training recruits or yelling at an insubordinate recruit.

"It's for the best." Simon says, physically stopping himself from adding a 'love' to the end. He was sure you would throw your shoes at him if he let it slip. You had always been a firecracker and pregnancy seemed to amplify how quickly your anger flared up. It would be cute, he thinks, if he didn't know that you could gut him like a fish.

You glare at Simon the entire trip back to the flat, refuse his help getting out of his truck and slam the truck door shut hard. The last few weeks you've struggled up the stairs to your flat and now you're marching up them like you weren't advised to keep exercise low. “Would ya fuckin’ wait?” Simon huffs. Your glare could melt steel and you slam the flat door behind you. Simon groans and opens it to find you pacing back and forth.

“Just sit down.” Simon says and grabs you by the shoulders. You push him away a little, stumbling yourself from the force needed to do such an act.

“Don't tell me what to do.” you snap and run your fingers through your hair. You were sure you would lose your fucking mind if you had to rest all day for a month.

“You should update Mrs and Mr MacTavish on the situation.” Simon suggests, “Maybe Mrs MacTavish has gone through this before.” You glare at him but pull out your phone anyway and begin to type.

You're there when he wakes up, this time not high on pain meds. “Lass?” he groggily muttered and tried to rub at his eyes. Soap hissed when he felt the IV needle in his arm at the movement. “What ‘re ye doin’ here?”

“Waiting for you to wake up.” you stated, voice cool and Soap sunk further into blankets and hospital bed. He knew that look in your eyes, you were on the verge of an explosion. “What the hell were you thinkin’?” you snapped and flicked his forehead for good measure. “Running into that building like a man with a death wish.” you tossed your hands up in the air.

“Well I'm not dead.”

“I had to perform CPR on your MacTavish!” you snarled, “Blood loss might've fogged that part over but I remember!”

“Lass-”

“Do not ‘Lass’ me.” you stood from your chair, the spot you had nearly grown roots into if not for the different appointments you had due to the wounds on your hands. “You nearly died and I had to watch it. Do you seriously think I wouldn't be upset?”

“Lass I'm fine.” Soap tried to say and sit up. He groaned and clutched his side when the pain shocked through his system. “Bleeding Christ.”

You sat back down in your chair and wiped at your tears so he wouldn't see them. “You pull that shit on me again MacTavish and I'll let the crows eat you.”

“I'm not on bed rest yet Simon.” you huff and nudge Simon away and out of the kitchen. “I can make my own food.”

“Never said ya couldn't.” Simon mutters as he takes a step back.

“Go finish setting up the baby changing station.” you say, swallowing the snarl. You keep reminding yourself that this isn't Simon's fault. Mrs. MacTavish has texted back, telling you that she once had a friend with the same complication but not to worry. The month would pass quickly. You had to also turn off your phone to stop from messaging something hurtful. The military had always kept you moving. Running courses, training recruits or deployed into the field. Pregnancy had already shown you down and put you on light duty until you took leave.

You tap your foot as you stir the soup and your eyes drift to the front of your hands. The scars had faded well thanks to treatments but sometimes you wish they hadn't. Just as a reminder, something to run your hands over that wasn't your bulging stomach. You reach and turn on your phone, holding your breath as well as you could bring 7 months pregnant as the brands sign flashes.

You stare at your lock screen, a group picture of the 141. Back when Soap was alive. A ding as a notification pops up, a message from Mrs MacTavish from several hours ago.

“Would you like a baby shower before you have to go on bed rest?”

A baby shower? You had a small one at four months. Just Price and Gaz, Simon wasn't invited. The baby clothes you had were from those two. You really didn't want another. So much stress and surely more people. You had seen the family pictures on the wall in their house.

I owe it to them, you think as you type up the one word response, at least I owe them this much.

“Yes.”

#ghost mw2 #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap #call of duty #cod #john soap mctavish x you #mw3 spoilers #cod mw2 #simon ghost x reader #ghost x soap x reader

[soapyghost]

Could we get captain price with a younger/inexperienced reader? Like someone who’s only had shitty hookups that didn’t care if they got off or not. He would completely ruin you for all other men omg. Like knowing that he’s the first person to really make you feel good would be so hot to him

TRUTH OR DARE? A PRICE X F! READER

A/N- I actually had a lot of fun writing this bad boy. I really hope I did this prompt justice~

W/c- 2.1k

WARNINGS- Smut, language, fingering, orgasm(s), p i v, choking, rough sex, inappropriate relations with your boss, and like a ton of SMUT. Ok cool enjoy.

Of all things, of course a children's game would be your downfall.

It all started after a you and the rest of 141 finally completed the 2 month long mission in bumfuck Russia. Safely back at the bunker, the squad pops open a bottle of whisky, bourbon to be specific, so even Ghost joined in. The game of cards long since abandoned in favor for a rousing game of Truth or Dare.

"Minx, you're turn" Soap slurs, "Truth or dare?" "Truth" you respond, after seeing the last dare done in the group you chose the hopefully safer answer. Gaz had last chosen dare and the image of his bare ass is now forever ingrained in your brain.

"Oh that is so not gonna save you missy," Price mutters, taking another sip of his drink. You raise your eyebrow at him as Soap asks "how many time has a guy made you cum in one night?". You spit out your drink at the bluntness of this question. You usually can hide your emotions pretty damn well, as it was part of your job. Your were 141's espionage agent. Their "honey pot" , which is how you got your code name, Minx. But this question, off of Johnny's drunk lips caught you off guard.

"I'm sorry, WHAT did you just ask me" you retort. "Oh you heard me." he counters. You take a sip of your glass and muse on how to get out of this one. But you know there is no way out, its either answer this question or down the rest of the bottle. Your stomach doing flips at the thought of drinking that much. After a long sigh you shrug your shoulders in defeat, "Not a single time Johnny boy" exhale. Every head in the room snaps up to stare at you in pure shock.

Johnny lets out a chuckle, "I can change that for you Sweetheart" he boldly asserts. "Johnny you couldn't figure out the difference between a pussy and an asshole" Price quips, which manages to get what sounds like a chuckle from Ghost and full on howls from the rest of the team. You feel your face redden and you look up at Price to try and come up with some snappy comeback but the words die on your lips when you see how he's looking at you. It's different now, hungry.

It's been a few months since that night in the bunker, but you can't get the image of Price's face out of your head. Are you falling for your Captain? You don't have the privilege's of loving anyone in your line of work. Not only can they be killed, but most men would lose their minds watching you flirt with mob bosses. How fragile their egos can be, but that's what makes it easy to get information. Which comes in handy on your next mission.

You slide on the little black dress laid out for you in the hotel room of some fancy 5 star hotel in the heart of Mexico. This mission was simple, get in, get close to the some high up cartel douche and get the information off the USB he's carrying. Slipping in the earpiece that is near invisible you breathe, "hear me alright lads?". "Copy" responds Price, "Loud and clear Minx. Remember the plan and stick to it." "Yes sir" you reply. The rest of the squad was outside, hiding in the shadows incase anything went awry and being subtle was no longer an option. You stalk out of the hotel room and down to the casino on the first floor, ready to outsmart yet another idiotic man. You catch the attention of every man in the room when you walk in, some even blatantly staring. You saunter over to the bar and order yourself a drink, ignoring the man at the bar trying desperately trying to get your attention. You swipe up your drink and leave him with his mouth open as you go to sit in the lounge and wait for your prey.

"Incoming now Minx" you hear Ghost breathe through your earpiece. Not a minute later incomes your target, a rather short man in an overpriced suit, Angel. All the pictures you'd been briefed with made it easy to spot him in the crowd. You take a slow sip of your drink and as he walks past you, you slowly look up at him with doe eyes. You can see in his eyes he's fallen for it hook line and sinker. After a few minutes a man in a black suit taps you on the shoulder, "Excuse me Miss. But Angel would like to speak with you" he whispers into your ear, accent thick. "Oh does he?" you respond, "well who am I to decline?"

You follow the man to the back of the casino and he leads you to an elevator. "He's on the top floor" he gestures to the door. "Gracias" you respond, voice dripping with honey. "You could work on that pronunciation." Gaz snorts in your earpiece. As the doors shut and the elevator moves you take a big gulp of air. "Shut it Gaz" you spit. The doors open to a dimly lit club, filled with music and smoke. "Hope you boys are ready for a show," you breathe as you step into the club.

He sticks out in his flashy white suit making it easy to pick him out of the crowd. You slide into his lap and purr "you wanted to see me handsome?" His hand slides onto your ass and you suppress a gag at the smell of his god awful cologne. "mmm, I've wanted to lay my hands on you from the moment you looked at me" he moans into your ear. "Well, I'm here" you murmur into his neck, placing kisses from his ear to the nape of his neck. You hand slides down his body, nearing his groin. You slip your hand into his pocket and slip the USB into your dress. "We should take this back to my room" he hums. "Mmmm, you'd think I'll just follow you anywhere?" You pull back, eyes wide, "I would feel much safer back in my room. But I need to freshen up first" you move your hand up his chest. After a few more minutes of some pretty heavy petting you get up, "you can find me in room 603" you whisper into his ear as you slink away. Of course that wasn't your room number, you weren't even going to be in this country by the time he figures that out.

The minute your outside the hotel you find a way to slip into the backstreets to rendezvous with the team. "I feel like I need to take a scalding shower for the rest of my life" you groan, still feeling his hands on your body. "Let's exfil and get you that shower, you earned it" Price smiles once he has eyes on you again. You wonder what a shower with Price might be like... you shake your head to get the image out of your mind.

After debrief and a long hot shower you get a text that surprised you

My office- 10 minutes. It's from Price. What could he possibly want with you at this hour? Your mind races with the possibilities as you leave your room, mostly of terribly dirty thoughts of being bent over Price's desk. As you approach his office door you pause, unsure of if you want to knock on the door or pretend you didn't see his text. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you rap on the door 3 times before you hear Johns gruff voice, "Come in."

You slide in the door and close it softly behind you, "You wanted to see me sir?" you choke out. The air in here thick with cigar smoke and anticipation. "Your performance on todays mission was good kid, but that's all it was, a performance." he mutters, voice low. "Sir?" you inquire. "You've never wanted to take a man to your room, none of them could please you" his words go straight to your core. "I've been thinking about this since that night in Russia" he continues, standing slowly from his desk chair, "and I know you have too" his eyes flick up to yours. They have that same hungry look from all those nights ago. You gulp, "have I now?" you tease, hoping to regain some control of the situation. "Oh you know you have love" he grumbles. In an instant his hands on your neck and your back is on the door. You let out a yelp of surprise and pleasure. His lips meet yours and the fire in your belly ignites. You had been thinking about this since that night, many times with your hands between your legs and the image of him in your mind.

"Why don't you show me then? What it should be like?" you moan as you nip at his neck. "I'm going to ruin you" he growls, flipping you around and face down onto his desk. The tone of his voice and the force he moves you around with is more than enough to get you soaked. He rips the booty shorts you wore down your legs, to reveal your bare ass, a perfect site to behold. You can hear him hum in delight at the sight of you bent over his desk. Your breathing is ragged as he takes one hand to hold your head down on the table and the other begins to rub your folds. His touch alone tightens the band in your stomach, he knows exactly what to do. "Wet already?" he croons, taking his thumb to your clit. He starts slow, moving in a circle causing your back to arch. The fire in your stomach turns into an inferno as he takes one finger and slides it into you. You gasp at the feeling of his rough callous fingers. He pushes up against you, his cock throbbing through his pants and slides in another finger. "Fuck John" you moan. "Shhh, let me show you how you deserve to be fucked" he grunts. His pace begins to quicken, fingers sliding effortlessly in and out of your hole. You've never felt this burning inferno in your stomach unless it was your own fingers. "Holy Shit John" you whine, your eyes loosing focus at how incredible this feels. "Cum for me" he commands, fingers moving at a speed you didn't know was possible. The gruff command is enough to send you spilling over the edge into an orgasm. You cry out his name as he doesn't relent. You have to bite down on your arm to ground yourself, the world going black from pleasure. "That's my girl" he praises, removing his fingers from you with a satisfying pop. Before you can catch your breath, you hear him unbuckle his pants. Shudders run through your body in anticipation for what comes next. If his fingers could do that, you can only imagine what his cock can do to you. "Ready?" he whispers. You're so fuck dumb all you can do is manage a nod, as he slides down your panties which are just a soaking mess. He teases you, moving his cock back and forth between your soaking folds before he finally slides his tip in. He's so much bigger than anyone you've ever been with, you cry out as he slides a couple inches deeper. "Breathe love" he groans through gritted teeth, "You have to relax for me". With one final thrust he's in, his size struggling against your walls. You whimper as he begins fucking you. His hand moves from your neck to your head, hands filling with your hair. Pulling your head back, he picks up his pace. Every thrust fans the flame of yet another orgasm. "Fuc- John I'm gonna- I'm gonna" you yelp. Words won't come out of your mouth, your brain to scrambled from the last orgasm. "Fuck" He grunts, and with one final punishing thrust you feel him empty inside you. His cum mixing with yours as you're thrown into yet another orgasm. His forehead on the back of your head, cigar smoke filling your senses.

"What are you doing to me Minx?" he breathes. You're still bent over the desk gasping for breath. You've never been fucked like this in your life, its nothing like those shit one night stands you've been used to. Your whole body feels like its on fire, but your head is where its the worst. Words are failing to come to your lips, all you can do is whine. He slides out of you and kisses your forehead.

"Truth or dare?" you finally gasp out. Shakily hopping up on the desk, regaining a miniscule amount of control of your body. A smirk crosses Johns mouth, "Dare" he answers.

"I dare you to make me cum again" you challenge, voice still shaky. His eyes light on fire again, "Gladly".

#price smut #captain price x reader #captain price smut #mw2 #mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #price x reader #modern warfare 2 smut #captain john price #captian price

[ghcstao3]

Have you ever done a Vampire!Soap with Human ghost before 👀👀

i don’t believe i have! that has now been changed

-

Let it be known that Ghost is not a coward.

Over the years he’s grown desensitized to so much that hardly anything scares him. He knows only how to incite fear, not feel it, and he certainly has no fear of Soap.

It just happens that the idea of the sergeant being a vampire makes him a little… squeamish.

Most days, Ghost can forget about the fact that his sergeant isn’t human. He can forget about the spare bags of blood stored in the back of the common room fridge just for him, he can forget that his strength is superhuman when Soap still loses their spars.

He can forget, until they’re deployed and Ghost sees Soap sinking his teeth into the enemy, ripping open their throats with fangs instead of any manmade weapon. He can forget, until Soap’s eyes, normally a vivid, lively blue, flash a bloodthirsty red as he feeds, as he has yet to come down from a rampage.

Ghost isn’t afraid of those moments, he’s not. He’s not afraid of Soap. The sergeant just makes Ghost feel all the more human.

But whatever it is he feels, whatever it is that’s making him wary, Ghost never confronts it. He never lets show his discomfort around Soap whenever he’s suddenly too aware of the man’s vampirism. Doesn’t need to.

They work just fine together.

Until it all comes to a head, after a particularly gruelling mission.

They’d underestimated the demand of the mission, landing Ghost and Soap alone, exhausted, after nearly two weeks of nonstop action. Their transport is hours out, Soap has been incessantly scratching his arms, and Ghost may or may not be in need of medical attention.

Overall, things could be better. Significantly.

“Would you quit that?” Ghost snaps. The sound of the scraping of Soap’s nails against his skin is grating.

Soap freezes. Slowly lowers his arms, revealing red, irritated lines left behind. He looks almost sheepish, hunching in on himself in a way that makes him look small, shy, like Ghost has never known him to be.

“Sorry,” the sergeant apologies. “Haven’t fed in a while.”

Ghost frowns, turning to finally give Soap a proper look.

Soap looks paler than usual, cheeks gaunt, under-eyes a deep purple. Ghost’s brows knit together.

“You didn’t bring any spare?”

Soap shrugs helplessly. “Don’t usually need it. Usually there’s hostiles to solve that problem,” he mutters.

“But you have some back on base, yeah?”

Soap nods. Ghost sighs.

“That’ll do, then.”

Ghost has the brief idea to offer help, but it’s disregarded almost as fast as it crosses his mind. He reasons he can’t because he’s already bleeding—and he’s sure Soap can smell it—but Ghost knows it’s not really the why.

When transport finally arrives, Ghost is constantly sending glances over to Soap, who drags his feet as they climb into the Humvee. He throws out concerned looks the entire way back, but eventually loses the chance to continue worrying when they return to base, as Ghost is dragged away to have his wounds checked.

He forgets about it, like everything else to do with the vampire, until Ghost discovers Soap pacing in the common room in front of a refrigerator that had been just about completely torn apart.

“Soap,” Ghost calls.

Soap doesn’t answer.

“Johnny!” Ghost barks.

The sergeant stops mid-step. He pivots on his heel to face Ghost, chewing on nails with fangs that somehow look duller. His eyes are wide, and noticeably crimson, and the wild look on his face almost has Ghost… scared.

“Sit-rep,” Ghost demands weakly.

Soap is trembling. “Someone threw it all out.”

Ghost could very well guess what he’s referring to. Still, he asks, “Threw what out, sergeant?”

“My…” Soap casts an almost forlorn glance toward the fridge and its emptied-out contents. “It’s gone.”

Ghost huffs. “When’s the last time you’ve fed, Johnny?”

Again, that timid expression reappears on Soap’s face. He wraps his arms around himself, though it does nothing to hide the way he shakes.

“A month,” Soap murmurs.

Ghost doesn’t like that he drinks blood. Doesn’t like that it’s another person’s life force that fuels him. But he still feels pity. Sympathy.

Vampire or not—he’s still Soap. And he looks on the brink of a second death.

“Need to be more responsible, sergeant,” Ghost says carefully, slowly. He takes a step toward Soap, and tries to do his best to ignore the ache in his heart when Soap moves backward.

“I know.” Soap’s head dips in an aborted half-nod, refusing to meet Ghost’s gaze. “‘M sorry.”

Ghost takes another step. This time, Soap remains glued in place.

“Don’t apologize,” Ghost scolds. He softens, then, with a quiet sigh. “Can you ask anyone to…?”

Soap shakes his head. “Gaz ‘n’ Price are deployed,” he says. “Don’t trust anyone else.”

It’s a split-second decision that has Ghost blurting out the option he’d hope to never propose. “What about me?”

Soap’s eyes snap up to Ghost’s, startled. Still red, but somehow transformed into the eyes of prey. “You…?”

Ghost swallows thickly. “You’ll… you need it, so—“

“I cannae… cannae ask that of you,” Soap croaks. Though he doesn’t really need oxygen, Soap’s breathing is erratic, almost like some animalistic part of his brain had been unleashed, finally unlocked once the idea of being fed has become real again. The refusal is only to be polite, Ghost is sure of it.

His heartbeat is loud in his own ears. It’s probably louder in Soap’s.

Slowly, never once taking his eyes off Soap, Ghost pushes up a sleeve and offers out his forearm to the sergeant. His jaw ticks, watching Soap carefully.

Soap hesitates. For a long moment, Ghost begins to think Soap would rather hope he’d get blood some other way than taking from Ghost—but then, tentatively, he grabs ahold of Ghost’s wrist and steps closer, before bringing the lieutenant’s arm to his lips.

The initial prick of sharpened fangs has Ghost wincing, but after a moment of adjusting to the strange sensation of Soap’s feeding—it isn’t nearly as horrible as Ghost had imagined it to be. Especially not when Ghost is more focused on the healthy flush of colour that returns to Soap’s cheeks, and the warmth that finds his palms.

But with blood comes a renewed vigour and strength, and Ghost has to attempt to wrench Soap off of him when his knees start to feel weak. But he finds no success—instead suffering from a roaring panic that had always existed under the surface, fearful of something like this ever happening.

Then, mercifully, only a few seconds later Soap seems to sense the change. Seems to recognize he’s taken all he’d be able to without hurting Ghost. He pulls off Ghost’s wrist, licking the wound until the skin knits together without blemish. He swipes his tongue over his owns lips afterward, now stained a deep scarlet.

His pupils are blown wide. What’s visible of his irises are… their usual blue.

Unlike every other time Soap comes off feeding.

Ghost hardly notices that he’s being moved to the common room’s ratty sofa after a moment, a strong, supporting arm snaked around his waist. Soap sits with him, thumb tracing gentle circles into Ghost’s side—a gesture far more intimate than Ghost wants to think about.

“I’m sorry,” Soap is whispering. “I’m sorry, I’m—“

“Why?” Ghost tilts his head, incidentally sending a new wave of dizziness through his system—but he pays it no mind. “Offered t’ help, didn’t I?”

Soap gapes, mouth bobbing open and shut as he tries and fails to find his words.

Ghost shrugs to himself more than anything, slumping further into Soap’s side. A weight suddenly tugs at his eyelids, and they fall sleepily closed. He feels fine, really. Lightheaded at most.

“Jus’ don’t let it happen again, Johnny,” he mumbles.

Ghost doesn’t think Soap notices his hold getting tighter. He’s not certain either of them really care.

“‘Course not, LT,” Soap says.

Ghost falls asleep to the comforting pressure of Soap surrounding him.

He’s not sure if he’ll feel any less afraid when he wakes up.

(part 2)

#ask #wow ok got a little out of hand #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghost x soap #ghostsoap #ghoap #vampire!soap #writing

[ohbo-ohno]

Oh and another thought on Johnny training his puppy-

You know how dogs have that one person they latch onto and get protective over if something happens to them or someone threatens them?

Simon is obviously Johnny's person and while Johnny knows Simon can take care of himself, he still can't help that protectiveness in him.

So maybe one day their little puppy tries to snap at Simon. Or maybe she even manages to hit him during a punishment.

And Simon, in his daze at their little puppy's audacity to even do that, doesn't get a chance to react because good boy Johnny immediately reacts to snarl at her. He stands protectively in front of Simon, baring his teeth at her and growling that no one lays a finger on his person, not even his beloved puppy.

So with a quick glance back at Simon to see if he's okay (obviously he is) and asking him if he can punish the pup instead, Simon let's Johnny take care of their naughty little puppy, showing her that if she wants to act like a big bad dog, then she can play with one too.

By the end of the lesson, Johnny gets endless praises for being a good boy and the naughty puppy spends the night in the kennel, whimpering at how sore and achy she feels.

- 🥍

i don't even know what to DO with this one. it's like you've sent me solid gold and asked me for an opinion. bitch it's solid gold!!!!

imagining that simon is hauling you her off for a punishment and she gets a lucky hit on his nose, something that takes him completely by surprise and has him flinching back instinctively. it doesn't actually hurt that bad but a full-strength punch to the nose will have anyone at least a little disorientated

and johnny just loses his fucking mind. no one gets to hurt ghost. that's not how this works. ghost is strong and incredibly capable of taking care of himself but when he isn't, johnny protects him. he's not allowed to get hurt - do you have any idea how fucked johnny would be without ghost??? no, it's not an option to let ghost get hurt

so it's mostly an instinctual thing that has him pinning you to the floor by your throat. he's the only one who really knows what's going on, you haven't even really realized you managed to hit ghost, and ghost is blinking spots out of his vision

you've never seen johnny so animalistic, seen him so angry. he's probably past the point of words, you hardly even realize why he's angry when he's got you in a grip so tight you can hardly breathe

he'd hardly remember to ask for permission to punish you - doesn't even really ask tbh. he'd tear his eyes from yours to look up at ghost, and ghost would give him a nod and say smth like "go ahead, johnny. teach her her place again."

anyways he fucks you very rough with like no prep :/ horribly uncomfortable and painful for you, but your screams don't stop him. he'd bite nearly through your skin along your neck and back, leave you mottled with painful bruises. your knees and elbows would be bruised, a layer of skin scraped off from how much they rub against the floors when he thrusts.

he'd fuck your ass too. barely give you any stretch, just jacks himself to full hardness, slips you maybe two fingers?, and uses the lube from your cunt to fuck you. takes him longer to come the second time, and he doesn't get you off at all :/

makes you crawl to the bedroom & crate on your own. johnny is right there on all fours beside you, pushing and biting you whenever you stop crawling, keeps shoving you where you need to be. he's mean about it, snarling and growling right in your face, leaving bites down your arms and legs

simon locks you in your cage, doesn't even bother looking at you as he goes to give his puppy a reward. leaves you there all night, listening to how nice he is to johnny, how good johnny gets to feel after behaving so well

(they'll give her a nice warm bath in the morning to ease her muscles a bit)

#🥍 anon #asks and answers #ghoap x reader #i have no idea if gold is actually valuable but we'll pretend it is. just you and me 🥍 #i spelled surprise surrprise the first time i wrote it. just so you know #i cant fucking TYPE #bo writes

[nrdmssgs]

Can you do a soap fic where a new girl gets transferred and she’s also a sergeant and she’s short and really bitchy, soap flirts with her and she never fails to reply within an insult or a snarky comment?

Masterlist Pairing: SoapXReader TWs: no AN: I took forever, I know, sorry.

The first thing, you thought of, seeing how people gather around Soap, how attentively they catch every bit of phrase covered with thick accent, how eager are they to become part of the next mischief, his mind plotting, is a Kelpie. By no means you were superstitious, but you remember well, what your granny told you: these Scottish demons are nothing but deception, temptation and constant shapeshift, hiding under calm water surface and dragging anyone, reckless enough to trust them, to the depths of cold northern lakes.

You had enough of 'shape-shifters': you were fed up with friendly looking lads, being all sweet around you, only to find out your soft spots and use them against you. So when his smile sparkles too close to your secluded corner of a bar counter - you frown automatically

"Oi, wee-one, what are you doing here all alone, while all the fun happens elsewhere?" That shit eating grin is too familiar. It only portends lies and mockery.

"Daydreaming of your smooches, Sergeant." You know, this man will start flirting with you today sooner or later: after all, he always does. So instead of fearing it coming - you decide on leading this train wreck.

"A'm sa-a-a-a-ae flattered." Johnny can speak British, very much so, when he needs it. But he must be too used to everyone falling for his accent. So he decides to torture your fogged mind with his gibberish.

"And a`m sa-a-a-a-ae lying." You can't hold back a little aping to make this moment even more harsh for him. But that'll teach him.

From your very first day on the base, this man decided, that his holy duty from now on was to haunt you with his flirtatious comments and stupid jokes. You ignored him once, then twice... on his fifth 'strike' you decided, you had enough and fought back. None of Johnny's line remained unanswered by you ever since.

Your rebuffs usually helped for some time. Today it won you fifteen minutes of peace. Because after that Soaps face reappears on the horizon with a jolly 'Anyway, Sg, hae any plans for t`night?'

"Oh, I have one plan, buddy. The first part of it is to not share the other part with the people, I don't want anywhere around me. So lemme guess, this is the moment, you are asking me about the second part?" You talk loud enough, so that not only Johnny, but the whole group of dumbheads enamored by him, hears you.

"I guess, nae, but if you want me to... What's with the second part?" Slowly but surely the damned accent leaves his speech.

"I can't, love, I'm tied up by the first part." Any person, not familiar with Soap would shame you for such a strong reaction. But you knew better, and soon he only proved you right.

"So someone is into restraining? Ah kin just happen tae know a thing or twa aboot this..." You are in mere seconds from snapping right back at him, but he manages to switch your attention to some completely unrelated question.

And just like that you lose concentration for a moment only to find yourself walking down the street with MacTavish and his company. His speech is all honey and velvet with notes of cheerful laughter. Man shouldn't possess so much charm - it is simply unfair. Yet, here he is - all bubbly and so tempting and warm.

Your group turns onto a quiet road, lit by one streetlamp. "Hey, look up!" calls the voice of one of the soldiers, and you lift your head. There is a soda can on the flat lid of the lantern. God only knows how it got there. You're not even surprised when Johnny asks right next to your ear who's ready to knock down the can on the first try. You just turn to him and clarify, “If I do this, can I ask you for anything?”

Soap nods enthusiastically, and before he can add something about the fact that you can always ask him for anything and without any bets, you pick up a pebble from the pavement.

"Watch and learn, Sergeant." You smirk and throw a pebble. The sound of an empty can hitting the asphalt echoes down the street.

Others cheer your victory, when Johnny leans closer and nods with a face of a defeated one.

"Sae what shuid it be, darlin'?"

That smirk. He is trying to look happy even after he lost. Lying scoundrel. Oh, you'll wipe that smirk off his face.

"You seem very proud of your country?" You can't help, but smile, as Soap nods and moves even closer, invading your personal space. So you go on.

"And very proud of that hairstyle of yours... How about we combine your two biggest sources of pride, Johnny." Some soldiers start getting your idea and you hear a few muffled laughs. But Soap doesn't get it till you specify, "Lets paint this mohawk. Blue and white sounds patriotic enough for you, MacTavish?"

If anyone asked you to name the highlight of that day - it was it. Shining smile disappearing from Soaps face, his head ducking, his eyes looking for something under his own boots. He looked lost... But only for a moment.

"Aye. Will need yer help though, wee-one."

For some time, you forget about this evening. Work and duty are quite effective at helping you to put aside any life outside debriefs, trainings and missions. That is, however, only until one late evening, when Soap appears on the threshold of your room with a towel and a pair of tubes of hair dye.

"Sergeant MacTavish keeps his word. Always." These words you hear from a tiny bathroom, where you wash your hands.

He welcomes your return to your room with a bare torso. You try to not look, but one brief glance is enough for his sculpted six-pack, ribs covered with a thin web of scars and tanned broad shoulders to be forever ingrained in your memory. Scoundrel. Seducer. Kelpie. You turn away almost immediately.

"Out of my room. Now!"

"Naw-naw-naw-naw, ye got me wrong! Ah juist dinnae want ma tshirt to get goosed!" He started babbling as quickly as if his life depended on it. So you take a deep breath and nod.

"Ok-ok, calm down!" You come closer to him and brush your fingers through Johnny's dark hair, trying to understand, where should you begin.

It's so strange to see his face not somewhere above, not even on your eye level, but somewhere below. For the first time, you notice the faint freckles on his face, the dark edges of his incredibly blue eyes, the small wrinkles. That all brings you a very strange thought: maybe there are people out there, who know soft and vulnerable Johnny, maybe there are people, whom he will never fail, never betray. You personally can't have a luxury of trusting your colleagues so much as to let them be close to you. But maybe there are people, that trust these eyes and find comfort in these arms.

Your hands fall down. "You know what, Johnny, consider the deed done... To hell ruining your hair, your self-esteem. Forget, we even had this bet, it's stupid."

"Whaaa? Naw, bonnie, it is hilarious! I want this! With ye only! And ah trust ye." He catches your hands and eagerly places them back into his surprisingly soft hair, making sure, your fingers drown in the mohawk fully and touch his scalp. There is not a single note of mockery in his voice - only plea to keep going and trust, endless trust in you - the person, who always had a few sharp words ready for any his attempt to approach you.

You feel guilt stinging you from the inside.

"Ok, I'll do it. But I must warn you - I don't have a single idea, what am I doing. And this will probably turn out ugly."

Soap only keeps nodding, not looking away from your eyes for a moment. His eyes shine with obedience and anticipation.

Not knowing it yet, you are slowly drowning in deep waters, dragged by a Scottish demon. Your very own Kelpie.

#cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap mctavish #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #cod soap #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x you #soap x y/n #soap fluff #soap fanfic #cod fluff #soap cod #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #soap x you #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader

[fel0ny-01]

Anyway, continuing from my month hiatus I am here to give you: 141’s phobias!

Soap - Fear of Needles

John MacTavish, the almighty sergeant from the highly regarded task force 141. The youngest candidate to ever pass SAS selection, the man who disarms bombs for a living, who’s been stabbed more times than he can count on both of his hands, who is unafraid to stand in the face of death and spit on his boot, is afraid of needles. Now, there’s nothing wrong with being afraid of needles, it’s a common fear, yes? A lot of people have it. But not to the extent that Soap has it.

Trips to medical are a nightmare, if someone even mentions the possibility of blood work or iv’s, his heart rate doubles and he’s thrashing and trying to get out of there. Not even Ghost can calm him down.

He usually has to be sedated (which is the worst part because you need to make sure 1. That he doesn’t notice, and 2. the needle doesn’t snap with the force that he’s using to try and get away) to even think about getting a needle in any part of his body. And even then he’s fighting to get away. He will literally do anything to run, even when they have the hardest grip on his arm, he’d rather it rip off or dislocate than get a needle in his arm.

Due to this fear, he only goes to medical if he’s forced, threatened with discharge or unconscious. Stitches are also a nightmare as-well, he would rather bleed out than get a needle pushed through his skin with thread.

Price - Fear of being alone

Price’s fear is usually something he tries to conceal from the others. The other 3 share their experiences openly, (well almost openly, it had to take a bit of opening up from Ghost) but eventually they were all able to make adjustments for each other.

And Price insisted that he didn’t have anything that would interfere with their line of work, but this one interferes the most. Each and every mission they take, Price is full of anxiety and is always tense because at any moment could he lose each and every one of his boys.

Only when they get back to base safe does he ever actually relax, all the anxiety seeps from his body because his boys are okay, Kate is okay.

He eliminates every single one of the things that may endanger the ones he loves, even if it means breaking a few rules to get there.

On the worst days, he can’t sleep on his own so he usually sleeps on the floor beside Gaz, until the sergeant forces him into bed so that he can properly rest. He has a little clue of what’s going on, but he doesn’t want to pry about it until Price feels okay to open up about his fear.

Ghost - Fear of mirrors

Something about looking in a mirror or any reflection sends chills down Ghost’s spine. It sends his body into fight or flight whilst he desperately tries to figure out a way to tear his eyes away from the one thing that he’s afraid of.

A lot of people are scared of mirrors due to the fact that there could be something spiritual, or that there is another world behind a mirror, and that concept is terrifying.

But ghost is afraid of what’s in the mirror, what looks back at him every time he comes in contact with one, himself.

He didn’t get similar symptoms to Johnny, its more of a deer in headlights, his palms sweating and his heart racing, his reflection unmoving just like he was; not daring to make eye contact with the demon in the mirror, but now he’s decided to wear his mask, it’s much easier to pass by a mirror or even look into it, because he doesn’t see Simon Riley, he sees Ghost.

He’s working on it though, he promises.

Gaz - Fear of heights

Now Kyle didn’t have any fears prior to the helicopter incident. He just got on with things and made sure to dive headfirst into whatever he possibly could.

But after dangling out of a helicopter above a moving road with lots of cars with armed soldiers In them, it can do stuff to a guy.

Anytime he looks down from cliffs or even standing on top of a table to change one of the lightbulbs, nausea overcomes him and he starts to become dizzy, his head reeling as his entire body telling him he needs to throw up. More often than not, he passes out.

It wasn’t nice for anyone having to catch an unconscious sergeant from the top of a table after he threw his guts up onto the floor.

Usually he can switch off and just get on with zip lining but now he can’t do it without feeling like his insides are turning inside out, but nobody blames him.

#call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #john price #phobias of the 141 #cod mw2

[running-with-the-feels]

Mind elaborating on the whole Kuai Liang & Johnny slept together thing? Like...How did that happened? We're they drunk? Sober? Did it for the heck of it? Like I wanna know. And how did Hanzo react?

So, basically, my thinking is:

We know that Johnny and Kuai Liang are canonically friendly enough that Johnny can get away with calling him a nickname he'd kill anyone else for (grandmaster blueberry ice)

We also know that the old Lin Kuei kept their warriors on a very tight leash and attachment was strictly forbidden.

So, it makes sense that Kuai Liang probably doesn't have much experience with Normal People Activities and once the cyber Lin Kuei were gone, he started exploring. Mostly things like new foods and movies and whatnot, and since Johnny is pretty much the only Normal person that he knows (Sonya and Jax are both soldiers and I think he'd misconstrue that as them operating similarly to the Lin Kuei) Johnny is who he asked for help.

Johnny, being the buddy that he is (and he's also really nice beneath all that bravado), started planning movie nights and excursions for other Normal People Activities and eventually they got really drunk and Kuai Liang let slip that he was a virgin which Johnny found quite shocking (bc I mean look at him, ice man could pull Anybody) and offered to help change that if Kuai Liang wanted to, since it technically counts, being something the Lin Kuei had forbidden.

Kuai Liang didn't go for it at first, so Johnny backed off and just left the offer on the table, and then eventually Kuai Liang just decided 'Fuck It' and called Johnny.

This was years before he and Hanzo ended up in their alliance, and though Kuai Liang will never admit it, it was a Very Good experience. Eventually Hanzo found out during one of Johnny's parties where they played never have I ever, vodka shots version, and Jax, trying to get Sonya to lose points, played the "never had I ever slept with Johnny Cage" leading to everyone being shocked when Kuai Liang took a shot as well and refused to elaborate.

Hanzo likes to think he was subtle about it, but he did catch fire from the envy and proceeded to pester Kuai Liang about it for months afterwards, trying to get details (how? why? was it good wait no don't answer that) until Kuai Liang finally snapped and just told Hanzo to either fuck him himself or let it go.

I think we can all figure out where it went from there XD

#Johnny was planning to take that to the grave tho #he didn't want to put Kuai Liang on blast like that #might fic this at some point #kuai liang #hanzo hasashi #johnny cage #subscorp #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x #mortal kombat 11

[myoddessy]

hey! Hope this isn’t annoying or to much but I would love it if you wrote a hcs for the jackass cast dating a female cast member, who is the craziest one, she’s done for anything and everything no matter how weird, dangerous, or insane it is. i guess pretty much a girl who is like johnny and steve o combined. I see to many ones with girls who are shy or scared, and they are so boring. can’t wait to see what you write, even if it’s not this!

YES OHMYGOSH whenever i imagine a female jackass member, she's always batshit insane and i love it so much- for these hcs, i did johnny, bam, and steve-o but if you want to see some others then i'll do them asap

RECKLESS CREW MEMBER!S/O

JOHNNY KNOXVILLE !!

you guys are fucking terrifying oh my god-

okay but let's start with the fact that nobody was surprised when you ended up together. like, you both do so many stunts together because you're both up for anything that it was only a matter of time before you started dating.

whether it's the classic johnny knoxville or the gorgeous silver foxville, this man has no shame and with loudly say the most inappropriate shit when you do a dangerous stunt.

"my ding ding's harder than a turnbuckle" is automatically associated with you bleeding in some way atp.

that being said, he gets really worried about you when you do some of the crazier stunts .

you'd 100% be jeff's fav because you're down for anything, but he could honestly go without johnny clinging to his arm like a worried mother when you're in the bull ring.

overall, 10/10 power couple ( unhinged version )

BAM MARGERA !!

he thinks you're crazy hot but, like, in a psychopathic way

like, he knows your batshit insane and that's one of the main reasons he finds you so hot if that makes sense

pls make fun of him for throwing up easily, idc if you aren't much better, he gets so pissy and it makes for great content

another one who's scared for you but will also be the one suggesting you for death-defying stunts most of the time

97% of the time, if someone other than jeff volunteers you for a stunt, it's bam

the other three percent is probably johnny because nobody else wanted to do the stunt and he played it off as if you were the first choice

bam doesn't volunteer you out of spite or a want to see you nearly snap your neck, he just does it because he knows you can handle it and knows you'll love the footage that comes out of the stunt — regardless as to whether or not you get fucking ragdolled

i can see you and jeff rubbing your hands together like scheming flies when you plan a but where you're working with snakes that are kind of wrapped around your arms and you're totally chill about it, but bam gets called in and loses his shit

overall, 9/10 he's heart eyes 24/7 but an instigating little shit

STEVE-O !!

oh he gets so happy when he finds out your down to do any stunt

will definitely bring you along for wildboyz and will refuse to comment on you showing him up on stunts and shit

yk that one scene in 3.5 (i think??) where he says that when filming wildboyz, he refused to do a bungee jump? you definitely did that instead of him just for funsies

i mentioned it in the bam segment, but you'd both do so many wildboyz bits with animals and you'd both eat shit nearly every time but you don't care because it's funny

i can see you both getting really competitive over who can do the most disgusting thing and not hurl when everyone's drunk at someone's house...

spike probably intervened after you snorted a line of salt and pepper off of ryan's ass

overall, 9 and a half/10 purely because you'd both be incredibly scary to be around and idk if that's a good thing or not

#johnny knoxville #johnny knoxville x reader #bam margera #bam margera x reader #steveo #steveo x reader #jackass 4.5 #jackass 3d #jackass two #jackass x reader #jackass the movie #jackass #jeff tremaine #spike jonze #chris pontius #ryan dunn

[lifesver]

@johnnysslaughter said: [ run + reverse ] - for sender to run their fingers through receiver’s hair

there are moments, sometimes, that feel too safe. moments that he catches himself surrendering to, in some state of weightless exhaustion. moments that make him forget where he is. why he's here. with his head resting on johnny's chest, leland is placated in listening, sleepy-eyed, to his heartbeat. slow and consistent and real, a hypnotizing metronome — at harmony against an insistent tap-tap-tap, of rain pattering along the old tin roof. a rolling thunder shakes the clouds, somewhere far away. and johnny's fingers gently card through his hair, lulling him with the bizarrely tender motion. it was easy to forget — for just a fleeting moment — what these hands are capable of.

as he quietly follows the rise and fall of johnny’s breathing, he tries not to shift — or disturb where maria is resting her head on his arm. wouldn't dare move her, even as a sparking numbness threatened to put the whole limb to sleep. instead, he very-gingerly combs his free hand through her hair in turn, smoothing it away from her closed eyes. he finds a stray petal in the dark strands, and rumbles a silent laugh, as he carefully plucks it free. he promptly flicks it up at johnny — who has to swat it away from his nose, in the least-disruptive way possible — neither of them wanting to wake maria.

… there are moments — like this — sometimes, that feel too safe.

and yet, there's little to do but exist in them. to let the thoughts settle in and take root. an odd freedom, an odd emptiness, to having nowhere to be, no one to be. nothing to do around the property, either — since they wouldn't be hunting today, with how the grass would sink their shoes in the thick muck. they'd wait for it to pass, see if the storm had carried anything away outside. check on the animals in the barn.

and there are still plenty of days, where he wonders if he should hate this new-normal. if this is a betrayal of the self, of their friends, of the worst kind. he has the time, just now, to wonder if something in him had snapped, irreparably, to be letting these hands touch him gently. he wonders if he's losing himself in some inescapable way, and if there's even a choice.

— he supposes there is, always, a choice. after all, hadn't he grit his teeth through plenty, in his time trapped here? for himself, for maria's sake. had scraped and clawed, buried pride six-feet-deep. and earned affection from the blood spilled over his hands, from pushing himself up off the ground ad nauseum, for an ounce of johnny's approval. for the times when harshness turned to gentleness. to praise, to hand cradling his jaw, being told he was good. he'd done well, as johnny thumbed at the red spatter on his cheek. had come to accept the hand helping him up out of the dirt. had come to accepting johnny looking over bruises and cuts — with unusual care — to assure that their sparring hadn't left serious damage. sparring, which, as rough as it was between them, was still a laughably far cry from where it had begun.

he closes his eyes, sharply.

it's not perfect. he’s not even sure if it’s good. it's better, though, isn't it? than rotting in a cell. than being scared, every waking moment. than being angry, so angry it hurts to breathe, angry through the roots of his teeth. than fighting an impossible battle, chasing his own tail in circles, like a dog chained up in the yard.

he hums softly, leans cheek into johnny's touch, eyes skating up along the wooden rafters above. the touch, that proves he's real. that even if the newspapers said he was dead — he wasn't. he couldn't be. the two weights on either side of him remind him that he wasn't. and so often, it felt like their presences were the only things that felt concrete. like the only foothold he had left. shit, he could count on one hand, the people who knew leland mckinney was still alive. who knew maria flores was still alive. two forgotten things, footnotes in a newspaper clipping, about the strange disappearances in newt, texas. if even that. from what he could tell, even the very monster that had stolen them from their lives, seemed to have more sympathy for them than the paper did. or the police.

or

their friends?

he remembers how they had both cried, finding their pictures in the obituaries. two nails, two coffins. it was permission to grieve themselves. and whoever they could have been, if they had never come to this house.

sorry, johnny had said, once, about your friends. sorry, he means, that no one ever came looking again. that they were given up on. and hard as he searched for it — leland couldn't find any trace of joking in his voice. ( you hadn’t understood, then, why he suddenly cared enough to be kind. )

he also remembered wondering if it even mattered. if they would even still be their friends — knowing what he, and maria, had done to survive. he remembered when that dreadful question had bubbled up out of him in a choked sob, one night, just him and maria in their old cell. he remembered telling her he missed them. and the sky, too.

the rainfall outside lashes the window harder, takes him out of the memory. and he instead muses on how the shack looks less like a second prison, these days. maria's touch, leland thinks. in the little weaved flower wreathes, tucked carefully into the wood, the carved birds on the windowsill. a not-dead plant, sitting next to the birds. the new furniture he had helped johnny build from the wood, the repaired dents in the roof. because — if they were going to be living up here now, they had insisted upon prettying it up a little. and probably most surprisingly — johnny had let them. grumbled in his usual sort of way, of course. but couldn't say no, to maria's doe eyes.

things were easier. less strained. the days pass them by, and leland thinks less and less about running. had all but pushed the idea from his mind. how long, since he had promised maria; just a little more of his trust, a little more freedom, a little longer, and we'll try again. we'll go home. i swear we'll go home one day.

… and maybe he should hate that admission of defeat. that snuffed-hope within himself, too. a cage was still a cage, even after you got used to it. and they were still bound to johnny, bound to each other. complacent, maybe. but not naïve.

still, there are no shackles and padlocks. they take walks in the forest. they practice fight in the field. they help with hanging laundry, and cooking. fixing fences and helping mrs. hewitt around her house. she had been kind to them since johnny had brought them around, treated them no differently from the family — for how very different they were. the quilts piled around them now, protecting them from the chill of the wind through the old wood, were handcrafted gifts by mrs. hewitt. from christmas, which he did not think he would live long enough to see come and go.

for better or for worse, he and maria — they both still lived, because of the man he had once wanted dead so desperately it hurt. the man he lets pet through his hair, now, while they listen to the storm outside. who feels like safety, somehow. and maybe it was maria’s quiet, tentative trust, that had begun to convince him of that, too. when he looks at johnny, now — edges nearly softened under the grey morning light — he can't help but wonder if they weren't the only ones, succumbing to some kind of slow-acting poison.

or if he was more fucked-up by this place than he thought. but kindness, real or imagined — it was better than none at all, wasn't it?

❝ johnny? ❞ leland peers up slightly from under his lashes, and johnny hums a low sound of acknowledgement, to show he’s heard. leland takes a moment, and he thinks of how to frame his question.

another quiet rumble, rolling thunder calls out in the distance. the rain, tap-tap-taps, and dapples the dull light, fragmenting across their bodies. and slowly, his eyes turn back to maria's face, how peaceful she looked. a half-smile, barely there, and bittersweet.

❝ ... you ever think about leaving here? starting somewhere new? ❞

you ever think about letting us go?

#hold on... don't worry... i have gentleness (but still kinda sad) within the dire. #oh kids... my poor kids #im like cw for this au i guess . every time #( ☆ ) ⸻ THE FILM WHICH YOU ARE ABOUT TO SEE... / ic. #johnnysslaughter #( ☆ ) ⸻ NO ONE SAVED YOU / verse.

[babiebom]

Accidental Prey(iii)

A/N: i have realized that I have a type in two different ways. If anyone has read or watched the outsiders, Johnny reminds me of the guy who plays Dallas Winston and when I first read the book and watched I have had a crush on him and his looks remind me of that. But also the Dead by Daylight version of ghost face also reminds me of Johnny personality wise which is a problem. The fictional men I am into are just MENACES. Also her name (Fawn) is based on her survival instincts (fight/flight/freeze/fawn) AND how helpless she is similar to a baby deer. ALSO I meant to post this WEEKS ago like beginning of October. I looked for chapter 4 for like 15 minutes before realizing I only posted 2 chapters. Anyways if whoever is reading this wants the next two chapters to come out quickly I will oblige. But just know the authors notes will be outdated because I don’t feel like changing them.

Tw: threats, mentions of murder, pregnancy, cursing, talks of cannibalism, gore, blood, fighting, main character is being held hostage. Abuse/abusive tendencies, physical fighting y’know dysfunctional family things.

Wc: 2.6k

Previous Next Masterlist

Upstairs turned into an absolute shitshow as soon as Johnny's feet touched the landing. Drayton immediately began yelling about the girl, and it made him want to blow up. He didn’t bother listening as he headed to the fridge to grab something to drink. The old man huffed and puffed as Johnny ignored him, causing everyone else to start getting antsy. “LISTEN WHEN I TALK TO YOU, BOY!”

Growling to himself, Johnny spins around, glaring right at his eldest brother, he wanted to attack him in a fit of rage. “DON’T YOU BOY ME OLD MAN!”

The two men stared at each other, daring the other to make a move. “That girl cannot be kept here.”

“Well she’s gonna be, so get over it.”

Drayton sighs, shaking his head. His fists were ghost white from how tightly he was balling them up, yet Johnny knew the man wouldn’t try anything against him. For a second he thought everything was going to calm down, but nothing ever seems to go his way as Nubbins begins yelling, himself.

“If you’re not gonna kill ‘er I will!” Johnny’s head snapped to look at him. Was he really going to try anything? “Look at what she did to my face!”

The man sounded absolutely distressed with how he whined, and looking at his face Johnny could see why. Nubbins’ face was covered in tiny scratches, they were bright red, with blood crusting over them. The scratches trailed down his face, onto his throat and chest, onto his arms and for a second Johnny almost changed his mind on just how defenseless his little mouse was. Maybe she would fight him back, it sure seems like she fought him. Or maybe she just disliked the son of a bitch enough to want to maim him. Chuckling, Johnny doesn’t bother to hide his smirk. “Sure does look like it hurts”.

Nubbins lunged at Johnny only to be pushed to the ground roughly. The man scrambled to get up quickly, attempting to lunge at Johnny again. Sissy screamed at him to stop, and Drayton didn’t bother to stop anything. “Try that again, I dare you”.

Instead of lunging again, Nubbins darted towards the stairs leading down into the basement. Gasping, Johnny chases after him, and he can hear the footsteps of his siblings behind him. Great, the shitshow can move downstairs. Not even an hour later, everyone is returning to the basement.

Getting there a second after Nubbins almost means that the mouse loses her life, he grabs the girl by her hair causing her to scream at the top of her lungs, she struggles against him, swinging her hands blindly in an attempt to get him off of her. Johnny sees red at the sight of him holding his property up by her hair. “Get off of me you FREAK!” She wiggles around violently, trying to escape his hold. Johnny lunges at Nubbins with his hands extended.

Everything moves too fast for his mind to process and just like Nubbins had the girl, he had grabbed him by the hair, yanking him away. Punching the top of his head, Johnny shoved him to the ground once again, threatening to end his life. The girl had stopped screaming, but was now cowering in the corner. “If ANYONE is going to end that girl's life it’s going to be ME!”

The girl gasps, and Johnny looks over at her for a second before he watches the girl turn to Sissy in fear. “Please don’t let him kill me! We met at the store, remember? We talked about-about brownies, about you baking a pie! You talked about your brothers! Remember?”

The second Johnny moves she cowers back again, staring at him with wide eyes. Again, the terror doesn’t make him feel as it usually does with other victims, he doesn’t feel that success, as if he got the biggest prize after hunting. He just feels…pity for her. “Please! I’m pregnant!” Her mouth moves as if she’s going to beg for her life, as if she’s going to say something else, yet she doesn’t.

Johnny, however, shuts down. Pregnant?

Well, at least they had to keep her now, he just had to figure out if it was his or not.

Fawn sobbed to herself stuck down in the basement. It was dank, there were bones and blood everywhere and her nose burned from how bad it smelled. Gagging, she pushes herself to the back of the mattress, trying to get comfortable enough that she could space out and ignore what was happening around her.

The only good thing was that she probably did no real damage to the baby, not having a baby bump to fall on, not really having that much of a baby to effect. And the fact that she felt nothing was wrong with her body other than the headache that was taking over her ability to think. She could hear something thudding upstairs, and for a second she had hoped that her parents sent police or her parents themselves were up there. Yet she knew, in her heart and in her brain she knew that there was no one up there that was looking for her. Her parents probably haven’t even noticed anything was wrong, she had to be back home by midnight and she doubted that it was even close to that, and even if they knew how would the police even be here? How would they know?

She sniffed, bringing her knees to her chest, watching as a large man entered the basement. For a second he seems surprised to see her, moving backwards in what she assumed to be surprise but when she thought more about it his movement mimicked fear or anxiety. Was she in his space? Looking around she sees bloody tools and a drawer and other tools and things lying around. He seemed to want to move to the desk that was directly across from her, but seemed awkward. Fawn didn’t dare speak though, not wanting to trigger the man or anything. So the two stared at each other in silence, blinking and sizing one another up as if they were two abused animals trying to make sure they won’t get maimed again.

Tired of just staring, Fawn resumes crying, letting her head fall into her knees. Everything has gone to shit in a matter of weeks, a few months ago she was content with her life, and now she was trapped in a musty ass basement after being kidnapped by strange people that keep threatening to kill her by talking amongst themselves as if she were just an animal or cattle that they had to get rid of. Everything was unnerving about these people. And now knowing the two she had spoken to in the store weeks earlier were taking part in this, she wondered if they had planned the whole thing. Though the man she had met seemed like he wanted her alive. But then again he probably was to blame, him and that girl.

Yelping, Fawn looks up in shock. The pressure on her head did not help the headache, but she could tell the man in front of her was trying his best to be gentle. Maybe he was uncomfortable with her crying in his space. He didn’t say anything, and jumped backwards after she made noise, just staring and making noises at her. Clearing her throat, she tries to offer a watery smile, hoping that if she got him on her side he could help her leave. “Thank you…” she said, blinking up at him. The man made a happy-ish noise and clapped his hands once, moving to the table across from her finally.

Even with how big he was he wasn’t really all that scary, at least not yet. Imagining him chasing her was terrifying enough to keep Fawn in check, not wanting to push her luck with the guy. He seemed to be non-verbal which she didn’t mind, but that could also be a reason to not choose him to manipulate. She wanted out, and needed out before she got too big to even try to escape. Then again, escaping seemed impossible, and a stupid move with a house full of people that would probably kill her given the chance.

The sound of stomping filled her ears and before she realizes it the metal door that they had left through slams open and the man in the green shirt flies through. Frowning, she can’t do anything but scream as he pulls her up by her hair. Angrily, she yells curses at him attempting to hit him with her tied up fists. “YOU FUCKING- YOU LOSER UGH! Get off of me you FREAK!”

Struggling against him, she begins to cry out of rage. She hated this man, and even if it took her dying, if she could she would take the dumbass with her. The man from the store snatched him off of her. Even in her gratitude, the way he snatched him away sent fear into her heart. The big man that was trying to comfort her earlier had his back against his work desk, staring in shock as the man shoved the other to the ground.

“If you ever touch that girl again I will string you up on one of them hooks and gut you like a fish.”

Staring in shock, she watched him stand over the green shirt man, wondering why he was standing up for her. But in that moment her blood turned ice cold as the man continued to speak, also threatening her life in the same breath. Swallowing, she couldn’t help but continue to cry, terrified that the man would spin around and kill her right then and there. She had no idea what was going on in his mind other than the fact that she is his kill and that no one else was allowed to for a reason that was probably only known to him.

Gasping for air she looked to try and find the big man from earlier, but instead her eyes landed on the woman from the store. She had to remember her…right? Even though she looked totally in shock, she had to have some sort of rapport with her from letting her talk for like an hour.

“Please don’t let him kill me!” She begs, moving to face the woman fully. The woman looks at her as if she feels bad, but Fawn could see in her eyes that nothing was really there…but still she had to try and make herself seem weak, maybe she was weak, but she still needed someone to help her. “We met at the store, remember? We talked about-about brownies, about you baking a pie! You talked about your brothers! Remember?”

“Sugar…” the woman speaks, not really moving to do anything, letting out an awkward laugh.

The man from before moves towards Fawn quickly, causing her to fall backwards to try and get away from him. Involuntarily her body begins to shake, the way he was looking at her made her want to vomit. He was definitely going to kill her, there was no way he wasn’t going to. Her mind races with anything that could help her case, and she speaks without thinking. “Please! I’m pregnant!”

Fawn thinks to speak again, to beg, to do something; but with how nauseous the man in front of her looked she decided that keeping her mouth shut was best. He looks as if he has seen a ghost, as if instead of saying she’s pregnant that Fawn spun her head around and vomited at him screaming in tongues. The man takes one breath in, it’s shaky and makes her uncomfortable. His eyes are locked on her, and even if she wants to look away she can’t in fear that he is going to jump on her.

He starts to shake, his body visibly vibrating with whatever emotion he was feeling. The basement is so silent except for his breathing, making her more anxious than anything else. “Listen to me…” he speaks, turning to face the people that she assumed were his family, the woman had said she had brothers. “She is not dying. No one is going to kill her. If I leave and come back and this girl is dead or gone there’ll be hell to pay.”

No one speaks in opposition to him, and even staring at the green shirted man, or the old man Fawn realizes that somehow he had some sort of intimidation that made them want to comply. She just hoped he would keep this reality instead of changing his mind.

She didn’t want to die.

Drayton wanted to throttle Johnny so badly he could feel the thought of him doing it scratching his brain. The girl was pregnant? It was obvious that the stupid boy had gotten her pregnant, he probably knew the girl was pregnant to begin with. Talking about keeping her as a ‘pet’, he wanted to keep her because he had knocked her up. He brought a love child into the world without anyone knowing somehow and it burned Drayton up inside.

Drayton knew he himself was too old for kids, that part of his life was over and even though he had no want nor need to have kids a part of him inside was still angry. They had a rule, not one that anyone accepted, but one that was still put in place by Grandpa. The old man hates relationships, and the fact that Johnny went against that and had the nerve to threaten the family over some common whore offended him.

“You got her pregnant?” Drayton spits, as soon as everyone steps into the kitchen. He couldn’t wait to say anything about this, couldn’t hold his tongue until later.

“No?” Johnny looked at Drayton as if he were crazy, and this angered him even more. Seeing him act as if nothing happened down there, as if the very girl he had admitted to stalking got pregnant by someone else while he was watching her. It doesn’t make any sense for that to be the truth.

“Then how’d she get that way?”

Johnny shrugs, brushing Drayton off and walks away. He curses after the boy, moving to hit someone or something to get out the growing anger. Bubba moves away, and so does Nubbins who is now laughing about Johnny’s ‘girlfriend’ being pregnant, extremely giddy about the fact that he denied the baby being his, which meant she had slept with someone else.

It was chaos, dumb chaos that could’ve been avoided in multiple ways that somehow the family managed to hit head on every single time. The girl could’ve avoided this as well, Drayton just felt like everyone was out to get him, to make his life harder than it needs to be. The police presence itself was making getting food harder, and now they had someone trapped in their basement that they had no intentions of getting rid of, or rather Johnny had no intentions of getting rid of.

Sissy sang to herself, finishing the dinner that was left warming on the stovetop. Bubba had taken to trying to help her, and while it lowered the tension a little, something still had to be done about his brother.

Maybe telling Grandpa would make everything fix itself, or maybe it would give the old man an aneurysm. There were too many things going on, and too many things in the future that they would have to deal with. Even if they found a way to kill or, or even let her die in childbirth, there was still a baby that they had to deal with, and even if Johnny said the baby wasn’t his, Drayton knew that he was lying and this meant they are going to have one more mouth to feed. One more person he would have a leash on, and that child being like Johnny makes things a million percent harder.

God does he hope things aren’t harder.

#texas chainsaw massacre fic #texas chainsaw massacre game #texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw game #tcm #tcm drayton #tcm bubba #tcm cook #tcm family #tcm fanfic #tcm nubbins #tcm sissy #tcm johnny #johnny tcm #tcm hitchhiker #johnny sawyer #johnny slaughter #Johnny sawyer fic #johnny slaughter fanfic #the hitchhiker #tcm game #tcm headcanons

[a-dirty-secret]

Johnny's Girl - Part 10

More smut because Johnny's libido is as big as his ass. It's canon. I don't make the rules.

tw: dub/non-con, hematolagnia, dacryphilia, blood, violence, stalking, rough sex

"H-hey Johnny, when you gonna k-kill that girl?" Nubbins asked Johnny curiously.

"Mind your own damn business." Johnny snapped.

"Y'know, I was wonderin' the same thing, Johnny. She's been here for three weeks now. You ain't never kept a girl 'round this long. You been lettin' her wash up in the family bathroom, and I even saw you bring her to your bedroom!" Sissy said, giggling. "You like her!"

"Y-Y-YEAH! YOU L-LIKE HER!!" Nubbins yelled, laughing and clapping his hands. Bubba joined in, clapping and letting out joyous grunts.

"Would you all shut the hell up!" Johnny shouted, rubbing his head in irritation.

"They're right boy, you get all huffy when anyone brings up that girl. She's makin' you soft, your mama ain't gonna be happy when she gets back! You oughta kill her now and get it over with!" Drayton said, pointing an accusatory finger at Johnny.

"You keep pointing that finger at me you might lose it, old man. I'd be careful if I were you." Johnny spit, gritting his teeth.

"Hmph. That's exactly what I mean! Ya'll don't ever listen! I'm stuck takin' care of things around here because none of you have the wherewithal to handle it!" Drayton yelled, slamming his hand against the table.

Johnny stood up abruptly, knocking his chair backwards in the process. Without a word he headed for the front door, lighting a cigarette on his way.

"Where the hell do you think you're goin', boy!" Drayton yelled after him.

"To hunt!" Johnny yelled back, slamming the door behind him. He was pissed at the way Drayton spoke to him, but more pissed that he was right. You were making him soft. He could couldn't deny he was growing fond of you.

For once, Johnny felt vulnerable, and that wasn't something he was comfortable with. He was suddenly being bombarded with a plethora of emotions he was unfamiliar with, so he coped the only way he knew how to, with anger. Well... Anger and rough sex.

Johnny got in his truck and began driving, no destination in mind, thinking back to a couple of nights ago.

"So.. Do you remember the first person you killed?" You were lying in Johnny's bed against his bare chest, tracing his scars with your fingers. Sometimes Johnny had a hard time sleeping. He'd bring you upstairs those nights, finding it easier to fall asleep with you secured in his arms.

"Of course." Johnny said, matter-of-factly.

"Would you tell me about it?" You asked quietly. You knew this man was evil, and part of you hated him, but part of you was intrigued and captivated. Knowing what the hands touching you were capable of doing turned you on, and you were ashamed of that.

Johnny recounted the time to you. He told you what she looked like, the power he felt as he watched her die, and the way blood rushed to his cock as he plunged his knife deeply inside of her. He ended the story by telling you how proud his mama had been.

"So your mom is the reason you are the way you are?" The question came thoughtlessly and you hadn't realized the implications behind it.

"What the hell do you mean by that? You think you're better than us?" He spat angrily.

"Don't be so fucking dramatic. Just say I hurt you without being an asshole." You spat back, seeing through him instantly.

It pissed him off how easily you read him, how you saw things behind his actions that he didn't. "You? Hurt me? You'd have to fuckin' mean somethin' to me to hurt me darlin'. You forget your place already? Do I need to fucking remind you?" He moved, positioning himself on top of you. He grabbed your throat, squeezing tightly. "You're a piece of fuck meat. My fucking property."

You could feel your vision fading when he finally released his grip. He adjusted his weight enough to flip you over then roughly removed your panties. After you caught your breath you pushed your face into the pillow. He smacked your ass over and over, not stopping until the skin was bright red on both cheeks.

You let the tears flow freely, in part from the pain Johnny was inflicting, and in part from the pain his words had sent shooting through your chest. It shouldn't matter to you if he cared about you, but it did. Sadness and arousal settled in the pit of your stomach, clashing with each other.

Johnny lifted your hips so you were ass up, face down. You arched your back and grabbed hold of the bedsheet with both hands, preparing yourself. He gripped your hips roughly slammed himself into you all at once, watching your ass jiggle at the impact. He groaned and took his cock out to the tip, then slammed it in again.

He then picked up the pace, abusing your tight pussy. His hands gripped you even harder and pain shot through your body. There was sure to be bruises there by the time Johnny was through.

After a few rough minutes you felt yourself getting close. You gripped the bedsheets so hard your knuckles turned white and your entire body tensed, preparing for it's release. Before you were able to finish he took his cock out of you and threw you to the floor.

"Useless fuck toys don't deserve to cum." He growled, forcing you to your knees and shoving himself down your throat. He fucked your face briefly then removed himself, reaching his climax quickly. "Open your fucking mouth and stick out your tongue." He commanded, pumping himself. You did as you were told and he reached the edge, watching as his hot cum covered your face and tongue.

He threw you back in the basement after that.

His attention returned to the present when he saw a hitchhiker on the side of the road, an easy target. He stopped the truck, watching as she jumped in.

"Hey there darlin'. Where ya headed?" He said with a smirk.

She looked him up and down, shooting him a flirtatious smile. "I'm headed wherever you are, gorgeous." She said with a wink. "Name's Dana, nice to meetcha'!" Women never failed to throw themselves at him, it was pathetic.

"Beauty and charm, that's a killer combination. I'm Johnny." He looked over and noticed her eyes lingering on his crotch, he hadn't realized he still had a hard on. "Want a better look, sweetheart?"

"You don't have to ask me twice." She purred, undoing his belt and jeans, pulling out his cock. "Wow, it's so thick." She said, stroking it slowly from base to tip a few times before increasing her speed.

He thought of you as she worked his cock. She was attractive enough, but paled in comparison to you. He wondered how you'd feel about another woman touching him. Would you be angry? Jealous? He groaned out loud at the thought.

The sound of his voice encouraged her and she repositioned, taking him in her mouth as far as she could. He sped towards the house, eager to get her to the basement. He was going to ruin her, and he was going to make you watch.

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