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mlmxreader · 6 months

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The Guilt of Leaving | John Soap MacTavish x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Soap with

82 "I just need a hug from you, specifically" ❞

: ̗̀➛ Soap leaves you at the worst time, and to make things even more difficult, he knows you're not even prepared for it.

: ̗̀➛ swearing, graphic depictions of fatal injuries & dead bodies, smoking, major character death, themes of suicide

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

When you first got the call, your heart dropped.

You screamed until your lungs gave out, cried until your head throbbed and pounded and snot was coating your face. You had always thought that he would be lucky, that he would never be the one to go.

That he would retire one day and you would live the rest of your lives trying to make up for all the time you had missed. You prayed, although you knew that it wouldn't save him. You asked the rabbi if there was a way, but they didn't answer. He wouldn't come back.

You stopped looking after yourself. The toothbrush was dry for months. The pile of dirty clothes piled up and up until you had nothing left to change into. You rarely ate, rarely slept. You stopped going out, stopped answering your phone, especially if any of his old friends called.

You always left the side door unlocked, hoping that he would walk through it. But he never did. He never would again.

Your boyfriend, your beloved Johnny, was dead.

Ever since that phone call, you had not been the same.

You never would be again, you and Johnny were… you had been together since you were teenagers. You were going to get married, you were going to have a family. You didn't even feel real anymore. Detached from everything, unsure if it was reality or if you were dreaming. A hazy state.

Constantly wondering if you should push yourself off of the top stair with your back facing them. Johnny was your everything. He was your best friend in the whole world. He was your boyfriend. He was your favourite person.

Now he wasn't even around to give you a soft kiss on the temple and tell you that it was all going to be alright. Nothing was the same anymore. You didn't smile when you saw old reruns of EastEnders and Waterloo Road on the television. You didn't feel excited to watch I'm A Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here!, you couldn't.

Those were things that you and Johnny watched together. You didn't even smoke the same kind of cigarettes anymore, constantly breaking apart and screaming his name when you saw his brand of tobacco on the kitchen counter. You couldn't cope anymore.

It was a dark, early morning, not even five hundred hours, when you went down to the kitchen. You didn't bother turning on the light as you went to the drawer and opened it, grabbing the long and sharp knife and taking a shaky breath.

You couldn't cope. You couldn't bring Johnny back as much as you wanted to, and you didn't know what to do without him. You had always been together. He was the one constant in your life.

You sat on the floor with your back against the cupboard, holding the tip of the knife against your wrist. You couldn't stand it anymore, you just wanted to see him again. You just wanted to be with him again.

You were about to do it, when the side door gently opened. The light turned on, and something stepped in.

He didn't look the same. His jaw was almost completely torn off, bits of his skull missing and exposing the ripped and shredded brain beneath. His eyes coated in a milky white; he took a few steps forward, lurching and jerking movements as he struggled to speak.

Black froth spewing from his bloodied and half missing lips. He babbled and gargled as he approached, crashing down onto his knees before you with a harsh crack, bones pushing through skin with ease as they snapped and forced the flesh to ripple.

With fuzzy grey fingers topped with black nails, he grabbed the knife, and threw it aside. More gargling and babbling. He stunk.

A sharp, distinct smell that sat uneasily against your nose and made you feel sick.

You didn't even think, lurching forward and hugging him tightly despite the sound of something cracking. “I don't care if this is real or not, I just need a hug from you, specifically.”

Johnny wanted to speak. He wanted to tell you that it was all going to be alright and that he was there, now, you had nothing to worry about. But he couldn't force what was left of his jaw back into place, and he supposed that the gaping and squelching hole in his throat probably didn't help, either.

Sighing as he resigned himself to letting you hold him. He wondered if you could feel how cold his flesh was, how his blood was congealed and clumpy. He wondered if you noticed that his heart wasn't beating. But then you pulled away, and he garbled as he did his best to speak.

“Oh, Johnny,” you whispered, sobbing. “I just wanna die…”

He shook his head, choking and static coming from his damaged throat.

“I don't know what to do without you,” you murmured. “And I don't know if you're real, but… but I love you, and I can't… I can't do this alone.”

Johnny wanted to reach out, he wanted to feel your warm skin against his and to know that everything would be fine; he felt terrible for leaving you so soon, he felt awful.

He knew that you would long for him forever and that your soul would forever be entwined with his; but he also knew that he couldn't come back. He was more than aware that he had to make you let him go, to let him rest.

But you wouldn't do that.

Johnny was smarter than that, he knew that after all the years you had been together, you would forever scream his name in your sleep; you would forever long for him to come home. Your soul would always tug on his.

He let out a quiet growl, spitting blood onto his thighs as he shook his head.

Johnny would never stop feeling the guilt of leaving you so soon, leaving you when you weren't ready whatsoever.

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ghouljams · 15 days

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Item #: SCP-141

Object Class: Safe Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: Each anomalous individual is to be kept in a single cell separate not within 200 ft of another. Each cell is to be outfitted with simple living arrangements and entertainment is to be provided upon request. Each cell is to be made of reinforced concrete with a single titanium locked door leading out of the cell. SCP-141 a-d should be mixed in among other safe or neutralized SCPs in order to prevent attempts to use said SCPs as weapons.

It is recommended that testing requests be made to SCP-141-a, which appears to be the leader of the group. If approval is granted SCP-141 a-d will be removed from their cells and transported to a separate testing chamber of no more than 12x12m. This meeting chamber is to have no outside tools or instruments brought into it or left within at such times as SCP-141 is present within it. Absolutely no weapons are to be within range of SCP-141 a-d, and security personnel is recommended to be in plain clothes.

The individuals which make up SCP-141 are not to be exposed to each other for more than five minutes before the individual needed for testing is removed to a separate chamber and the rest are returned to their rooms.

SCP-141 a-d are generally considered reasonable and will not become violent unless provoked. However, if threatened special containment procedures must be followed to prevent any major destruction from taking place. Specifically, the removal of all weaponry, electronics, and chemicals from the area. All anomalous individuals must be separated and kept under strict containment in blast proof cells until anomalous effects wear off. *

SCP-141 a-d have been outfitted with tracker bands and allowed to resume normal operations under close supervision. **

SCP-141 a-d have been chipped, and are currently being tracked via satellite. They will check in once every ⬛⬛⬛ months with approximate location and will report any other anomalous entities they come into contact with. Do not attempt to apprehend.

Description: SCP-141 is an anomalous gathering of soldiers which, when brought within 50m of each other seems to activate the individuals own anomalous properties. Anomalies disappear within ⬛⬛ hours of separation. Individuals generally appear unaware of their anomalies and report no noticeable changes between entering SCP-141 and leaving it. SCP-141 is made up of 4 5 separate anomalous entities and functions as a military task force. SCP-141 will take on assigned tasks and missions as a military task force if allowed to.

Currently SCP-141 is in ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ attempting to take down the ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ cartel. To date SCP-141 has aided in the capture of ⬛⬛ anomalous individuals/objects.

SCP-141-a: Captain John Price. SCP-141-a is an anomalous individual from Liverpool displaying an the ability to ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛. In testing SCP-141-a was able to ⬛⬛⬛ with both precision and speed. SCP-141-a has demonstrated an secondary anomalous ability to manipulate individuals into giving information and aid. Conversation between SCP-141-a and all personnel is to be closely monitored and aborted should personnel interacting with SCP-141-a be suspected of shifting loyalties or brainwashing.

SCP-141-a seems both aware of the anomalous properties of the group and willing to use them for what he calls "the greater good".

Note: SCP-141-a has demonstrated an increased tension around testing recently, as well as a sharp increase in willingness to subject the other members of SCP-141 to testing. Note 2: SCP-141-a is not to be trusted with information regarding Site ⬛⬛ operating procedures or personnel. Note 2a: Who the fuck is giving SCP-141-a information?

SCP-141-b: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. SCP-141-b is an anomalous individual from London displaying memetic properties which convince anyone talking to him that they've known him for years. D class personnel exposed to SCP-141-b for an extended period of time are able to recall false memories of him from various points in their life, as well as give general descriptions of SCP-141-b's likes and dislikes. SCP-141-b seems unaware but unbothered by this and will simply nod politely when the fictional memories are brought up. When asked about any relation later SCP-141-b will claim he has "never met them in his life," but that they "seemed nice enough."

-SCP-141-b Research Logs-

SCP-141-c: John "Soap" Mactavish. SCP-141-c is an anomalous individual from Glasgow displaying an anomalous understanding of weaponry and physics, which he is unable to replicate outside of the group. When grouped into SCP-141 he is able to disassemble and reassemble weapons into different functions, replacing and substituting parts between weapons. His understanding of physics while within SCP-141 seems to function outside of normal understanding. He appears to make up rules as he goes along, and is able to follow them even when they go against established laws of physics. Researchers attempting to follow steps SCP-141-c outlined are unable to replicate his results. Normal physics and mechanics apply when SCP-141-c is outside of the group.

-SCP-141-c Research Logs-

SCP-141-d: ⬛⬛⬛ "Ghost" ⬛⬛⬛. SCP-141-d is an anomalous individual from Manchester, England. He is unable to be photographed, and will not show up in photos taken of him.

-SCP-141-d Research Logs-

Note: SCP-141-d's inability to show up in photos seems to be a secondary anomalous property. Given the recent break out of SCP-141 from Site ⬛⬛ as well as the observations gained from new containment procedures it is theorized that SCP-141-d is unable to die. SCP-141-d appears to be able to take massive amounts of lethal damage without flinching. Secondary effect SCP-141-d-a allows any member of SCP-141 to heal SCP-141-d using basic first aid. Note 2: How the fuck is this guy still walking. Note 3: Please keep all notes to observations only.

SCP-141-e: SCP-141-e is an unknown anomalous entity which seems to share a psychic link to SCP-141-a and is able to communicate information to SCP-141-a. SCP-141-a refers only to this entity as "Laswell" and cannot be persuaded to share further details. SCP-141-e seems to give SCP-141-a orders, and has an almost omniscient understanding of situations and enemies that SCP-141 may come across.

-SCP-141-e Research Log-

*Following SCP-141's recent escape and the loss of several personnel containment procedures must be revisited.

**Someone bring these assholes in and tell them to stop taking off their fucking arm bands or we're going to chip them.

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callsign-coolsquirrel · 3 months

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Roaches first mission

that mission in brazil sucks so bad but the content is so worth it

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the-abyss-of-fandoms · 2 years

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Ghost is showing new takedown tactics for Task Force 141:

Alright now who would like to volunteer to do this new exercise with me?

Y/N immediately puts their hand up

Soap who is standing next to them immediately put their arm down: Put your hand down Widow.

Ghost catches a glimpse that Soap put his hand up: Alright Johnny your up.

Y/N grumbles mutters under their breath as Soap walks up to Ghost: Lucky…..Ghost Blocker

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #simon riley cod #call of duty #johnny soap mactavish #soap call of duty #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #platonic soap #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #one shot #imagine #headcanon

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cooliofango · 6 months

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pocket princess!! if you feel up to it could you pls write something fluffy with price x reader x soap. id love to see something lighthearted with price handling his loves <3!!

Baby It’s Cold Outside

Pairing: Price x Reader x Soap

Word Count: 727

Synopsis: A soft shared moment of peace between the three loved ones on a snowy night 🫶

A/N: Absolutely crying cause I couldn’t think of how to make this one longer 😭😭😭. I hated how long this was taking tho so I did my best, I hope you like it! I will continue to work on your Gaz ask and make it longer I promise 👀

Cw: None! It’s fluffy content between Bun’s favorite boys 🫶

Winter is always one of your favorite seasons. It definitely isn’t because of the snow. You hate having to constantly uncover the white flakes of frozen water from your car and pray that the doors aren’t frozen shut. It isn’t necessarily because of the holidays, even if they are always fun to celebrate with loved ones. It’s not even about the peppermint lattes you love to get on the way to work every morning when it’s being sold at your local cafe. Winter is your favorite season because of the moment you currently find yourself in.

The dim light of the television was the only thing illuminating your shared bedroom. The chatter of the late night show was quiet, just although loud to hear the men gossip about the actor’s movie and their experience on set. “It’s all rubbish, the reviews he’s speakin’ of..” You hear John lazily mumble against the right side of your collarbone, “The movie wasn’t any good.” The brit is against your side with an arm wrapped snugly just under your chest. His head rests on your shoulder, nearly falling asleep on you as the season’s early nights took its toll. The neatly trimmed mutton chops tickle your skin as he settles further against you. It’s a warm weight against you that you’ve grown familiar with, as well as come to love.

“Didn’t know ye watch cheesy rom coms, captain.” The Scottish accent of your other boyfriend fills your senses from your left and you turn to look at him with the same amused smile he’s wearing. Johnny’s eyes are closed, more in a half conscious state than John is. His head rests lower on your body, more against your chest than your collarbone, with an arm around your stomach, leaving you sandwiched in between the two men you loved so dearly. In addition, one of his legs is also laced with yours.

“Occasionally..” John mutters after a moment’s silence, earning a quiet chuckle from the scot.

The lighthearted banter between the two of them was always endearing to you, filling you with more warmth than the heat the two bodies around you did. It was more than welcome with how cold it’s been lately. You take a glance out the window on the left wall of the room, watching as large snowflakes fall down continuously. The hand on John’s shoulder absentmindedly toys with the hem of his sleeve while the other traces gentle patterns onto Johnny’s back.

These moments are scarce, but you cherish them with every fiber of your being. It’s not everyday you get to enjoy the peace and quiet. The worries that plagued your mind everytime the two went out for work are non-existent, even if it's temporarily. It is as if the dangers and horrors of the real world just aren’t there anymore and it was just the three of you.

A heavy sigh of content left Johnny and you could feel his weight against you become heavier as he relaxed. John places a soft kiss against your warm skin. You smiled lovingly at the feeling, tilting your head to rest against the top of his.

A yawn slips past your lips and John smiles against your collarbone at the sound, reaching behind him to pluck the remote from the bedside table. His movements are slow and careful, not wanting to jostle the two of you too much and disturb the peace that’s made its way into the atmosphere. “Get some sleep, sweetheart,” John whispered to you. He hit the power button, sending the room into total darkness before setting the remote back onto the table. His weight shifts back onto you, easily snuggling back into the spot against you. The blanket is pulled back over you before his arm returns back across your torso.

“You, too. G’Night, Johnny,” John said this with a gentle tap to Johnny’s nose with his knuckle. The scot simply huffs, already in the process of dozing off against you.

The room grows silent now, save for the collective breaths of relaxation being shared between the three of you. Your head falls to lean against the pillow under it, eyes falling shut. The warmth of the two men’s physical presence and love helps you to settle in a blanket of comfort. It works wonders lulling you to sleep in a matter of minutes.

Taglist 🏷️

@bunnyreaper @bookobsessedram @numberonetastemakerwhispers @a-very-bored-blogger @hawsx3 @ohworm-writes @tokusho @kitkatscabinet

#cooliofango writes #john price x reader #price x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #price x reader x soap #soap x reader x price #pricesoap x reader #soapprice x reader #requests open #reader insert #oneshots #requests #one shots #lovely bun 💕🐰

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swordsandholly · 15 days

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Keep it Casual

NSFW | MDNI

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x fem.plus size.Reader

cw: injury mention, death mention (in passing - no character death), brief weed smoking

Word count: 3.7k

One-shot/Drabble

Boy loves girl, girl loves boy. They’re not allowed to admit it, though. It’s good, right? All the benefits without any of the commitments. It’s what they both want, right?

Johnny MacTavish is an enigma to you in many ways. You’ve known each other for years - ever since you came over to the UK for Uni. He was in basic training then, out drinking when he approached you. His buddies were brutish and rude, only looking to add a soft American to their list of conquests, but Johnny… he spoke to you differently. Looked into your eyes, listened intently, gave you his full attention and nothing less.

You’ve been thick as thieves ever since. Beyond that, even. You and Johnny are entirely indivisble. Even when he’s gone for weeks, months, at a time, you’re inheretnly interlinked. Whether by phone calls or the matching tattoos you got on your ankles one drunken night, you’re connected.

There aren’t any labels for it. When people ask you default to best friends, but that doesn’t quite encapsulate it. There isn’t a word in the English language for what you have. You’re not partners - you’ve both had plenty of those each, however briefly. Even those always end. You and Johnny can’t be torn apart, though.

You know what the problem is. The reason you both keep it this vague, amorphous thing between you. Labels are frightening. Labels make things real. Labels mean you have to tell other people what you are, that suddenly there are expectations to live up to.

Labels feel like a death sentence in his line of work. Too many lost husbands, partners, lovers.

You lay on your belly in bed, legs kicked up in the air as you engross yourself in a book when the door knob clicks to the side. Johnny has a key to your place, of course, just as you have one to his. You don’t bother to get up. The chain always hangs loose when he’s gone - knowing he’ll come around at any moment. The door would stay wide open if it could, just for him.

You hear a thunk as as he drops his duffle on the ground. He didn’t go home yet, just came straight here. His boots fall on the floor next, then his jacket drops quietly in the hallway as he slowly makes his way to your room - to you.

“Bonnie lass…” Johnny greets, crawling across the bed toward you. He managed to get down to just his standard issue t-shirt and boxer briefs before climbing in. He knows you hate outside clothes on the bed.

“Johnny.” You smile, rolling onto your back as he climbs over you. Your fingers card through his mohawk, tugging gently on the strands curling at the base of his neck. “Need a trim there, bud.”

“Aye.” He chuckles. “Was waitin’ tae see ye. No one does it as good as my girl.”

His girl. Your boy. That’s the closest either of you ever get to tempting fate.

You hum. “How was work?”

Work. That word doesn’t even come close to what Johnny does. You can’t say more - can’t utter the word deployment. Coward.

“Ach no’ tha’ bad this time. Go’ my heid knocked around a bit.”

“So the usual?”

“Oi.” He scoffs in mock offense. “Donnae be rude.”

“I’m never rude.” You snicker, turning over and reaching for the top dresser of your nightstand. “Do you want to roll or me?”

“I think I’ve earned some princess treatment.” Johnny flops back on the bed, a finger hooking in the hem of your cotton panties as you sit up. He always does this when he first gets back - has to have some part of him touching some part of you. Not that you’d ever complain. You need it just as much as him, though you’d die before admitting to it.

Those blue eyes bore into you as you roll. It’s tradition - a celebratory joint when he gets back. Then you’ll binge all the TV shows and movies you saved up while he was gone and order an ungodly amount of take out. Indian. His favorite. Sometimes Johnny will go back to his apartment the next day to get some quiet time, maybe visit his parents, before he has to go back to work on the base but other times he’ll stay with you his whole time back home. Just taking up your space and being so domestic it makes your teeth hurt like too-sweet candy.

You always hope he stays.

“First hit for the guest of honor?” You smile, holding the joint out for him.

“Och, yer a blessing, hen.” His hand is warm as it brushes yours when he takes the joint from you, eyes locked on your own. There’s something intense in his stare that you aren’t used to. It makes you look away, almost shy under his gaze. He coughs suddenly, a harsh burst of smoke puffing from his lips.

You can’t help but laugh at him, “Getting weak lungs, soldier boy?”

“Oh, feck off.” He elbows you gently.

Somehow you’ve already got the giggles. It’s just something about being around him that makes everything feel better - brighter. More lively. Even the colors of your ugly little ashtray (the one you painted terribly when Johnny’s niece insisted the three of you go paint pottery while babysitting) feel so much more clear with him near.

“Oh!” His brows shoot up suddenly, as if he just remembered something direly important. “I got somethin’ fer ye. Be right back.”

You watch him jog down the hall - definietly not staring at his butt, no ma’am - and listen to the sounds of Johnny rooting around through his duffle bag. Your lips quirk up into a smile when he lets out a distant “aha!”

He comes back with a small, velvety box, flopping back into bed beside you and criss-crossing his legs. “There was this little artisan shop in a town we stopped through. The Captain wanted tae get his wife somethin’ an’ I saw this an’ thought of ye.”

The box slips into your hands. It’s small and light. You roll it between your palms a couple times before shaking it with a grin. Before you can make one of your usual silly quips about what might be inside, your eyes meet Johnny’s. They’re on fire, sparkling with anticipation for you to open the little gift. He’s gotten you things before (you actually have a shelf dedicated to his nicknacks from around the world) but this seems… different. There’s a heaviness to his expression that you’re not used to.

You glance between him and the box briefly - opening it slowly. Your eyes turn to saucers as you come face to face with a finely crafted silver necklace. A little four pointed star with a sparkling gem in the middle that looks the same icy blue as Johnny’s eyes. Little flecks of pink and green catch the light as you turn it between your fingers.

“Johnny-“ You gasp, at a total loss for words.

“Ye like it?” He asks with an uncharacteristically nervous pitch to his voice. His palms rub together absently as he glances between you and the necklace in your hand.

“I love it.” You smile softly, heart fluttering as Johnny breaks out in a grin of his own. “Put it on me?”

“Course.” He whispers, pushing your hair to the side and locking the clasp with deft fingers. It hangs perfectly underneath your clavicles, resting between the other jewelry you wear daily.

Those hands linger for a moment, before both slowly brush down over your shoulders. Rough, calloused fingers glide across your skin and leave an electric current in their wake as light kisses trail up your neck. “Missed ye, bonnie.”

You sigh and lean back against his broad chest. “Missed you too.”

Teeth sink into the crook of your neck, pulling a gasp from your lips. Large, rough hands grab and knead your tits through your thin tank top. He plucks at your nipples - rolling them between his fingers as he sucks deep marks into your neck.

You open your mouth to complain about leaving visible hickies but all that comes out is a breathy moan. You run your hands up his thighs on either side of you, dragging your nails across his skin in the way that always leaves him panting.

One hand travels down, grabbing onto the softness of your belly appreciatively before continuing. His fingers glide over your covered pussy, teasing you to gasp and squirm under him. Rough fingers continue to pluck at your nipple, eventually pushing their way under your tank top for better access. A low hiss escapes Johnny’s lips as your breasts fall free of the camisole.

“Fuck, bonnie. Can I taste ye? Please? Need ye so bad.” Johnny groans in your ear. “Please.”

How could you ever say no to him? He doesn’t even have to ask, really.

He repositions you on your back, tucking a pillow under your hips. Ever the considerate type. His fingers hook in your panties, a low, pleased rumble echoing through his chest as he shucks off the soaked fabric.

No matter what he’s doing, Johnny’s eyes always find yours. He could be across the most crowded room in the world and, imminently, they’ll find yours. They crinkle at the sides with his smile that pulls the scar on his chin.

“So pretty fer me.” He murmurs, lowering himself between your thighs as he bites and kisses up the soft flesh between your legs.

Johnny is a lot of things, and a total much is easily near the top of the list. Maybe number one, even. He presses his face into your cunt - mouthing over your clit and dragging his tongue down between your lips. It’s almost more for him, you think, the way he drags his tongue through the crease between your thigh and pussy. You can’t complain - you would be a fool to with the way he absolutely worships your body.

A harsh suck to your clit as your back arching. Strong arms wrap around your thick thighs to hold you down as he devours you.

“Taste so good, lass. Sweet as fuckin’ candy.” He moans against your cunt.

“Johnny!” You gasp, hand tangling in his overgrown mohawk. A low moan pulls out of you as he licks from your back hole to your clit before stuffing his tongue as deep in your pussy as he can. Chants of obscenities and pleading and oh, god, Johnny please you’re so good fall from your lips.

You know better than to try to hide your sounds. If he could he’d devour them just as much as he already does you - inject them straight in his veins to live there forever. Two fingers push into you, the stretch causing you to gasp. Johnny chuckles as you buck into the touch. The fingers curl directly up into that spot inside you as he nips at your clit.

Your climax hits you like a train - stars blooming behind your eyes and your back arching sharply. You’re always so sensitive after he’s been gone. So ready to have him again.

“Thassit, tha’s my good girl.” Johnny kisses up your thigh, working you through your orgasm with his fingers. “Ready fer me, baby? Missed this pretty cunt so bad - thought about her every day.”

You nod excitedly - mind too fuzzy and content to come up with the words to respond. Lazily, Johnny reaches over to the nightstand to grab a condom. He knows your home, like you, inside and out. Every nook and cranny might as well be his.

It could be his.

It should be his.

Johnny cups your cheek, kissing you slow and deep. His tongue parting your lips gently before exploring every inch of your mouth. Those rough hands trail down your body with reverence. One going from your cheek, to your sternum, over your belly to sink into the softness of your waist. The other holds tight on your hip as he lines up.

You gasp and moan against each other as he pushes in. The stretch is delicious. Your nails sink into his strong back.

“Practically made fer me, bonnie.” He groans as he moves. It’s slow, languid.

He’s so beautiful. Always has been. No matter how he changes - new hair, new scars, new tattoos - he’s still beautiful. The prettiest man you’ve ever met. You run your fingers through the downey layer of dark hair over his chest - tracing the outlines of his muscles, up over his thick shoulders to cup his cheek.

Your bodies move together easily - a well practiced dance that you’ve perfected over the years.

“Christ.” Johnny gasps into your ear - strong forearms bracket your head, burying you under him. “I lov-“

You turn your head, catching his lips in a kiss. It’s terrible of you, you’re sure, but there’s nothing those words can communicate that a well timed gasp or a perfectly placed caress can’t say better. His nose knocks against yours, your hands travel all over him, seeking out any purchase they can find.

It turns desperate. A clawing need as you rediscover each other for the millionth time. Wet, open mouth kisses against each others skin and bodies moving perfectly in tandem. The light high from smoking leaves your skin warm and buzzing with electricity. It borders on overstimulating - just barely this side of too much.

“Johnny…” You whine, tilting your head back.

“Aye?” He pants, laving at your clavicle. “Gonnae cum f’me? Cream all over my fuckin’ cock?”

All you can manage is a keen, teeth sinking into his shoulder to hide you face form him. A hand tangles in your hair, pulling you down to stare up at him.

“Eyes on me, hen. Want - ah - want ye lookin’ at me when I make ye cum.”

It’s too intense. It always is looking into those baby blues. As if they can see right through to the most buried parts of yourself. Johnny shifts your hips up ever so slightly, the new angle bullying his head against your g-spot with each thrust. Your nails claw across his shoulder blades.

It doesn’t take long before you’re careening over the edge with him, bodies tensing against each other. Clenching down around him like a vice while you gasp for air.

“There she is. Tha’s my girl.” Johnny murmurs against your lips, still rocking into you in short, sloppy motions. Just to drag it out a little longer until you whine at the overstimulation.

You let yourself lay back to catch your breath, floating back to earth while Johnny disappears to toss the condom in the trash. He’s back nearly as fast as he left, pulling you against his chest and burying you both under the soft sheets of your bed.

“Shower?” Johnny whispers into your hair, eventually. You nod against his chest, slowly peeling yourselves apart. Your fingers remain tangled all the way to the bathroom.

He whirls you after you turn on the shower, kissing you slow and deep as you wait for the water to warm up. A warm hand splash across your lower back - keeping you close. You’re left breathless when he finally pulls back, pupils blown so wide in the low evening light that you can hardly see the blue of his eyes.

You sigh to yourself as you step into the shower, grateful that you splurged on the apartment with the especially large bathroom. It definitely wasn’t with Johnny in mind. You’d never make your decisions based around such a nebulous relationship.

Not the size of your bathroom - enough to fit both your wide frame and his broad shoulders.

Not the location of your apartment - only a few blocks from his.

Not keeping his favorite snacks stocked at all times just in case he comes home early.

Not referring to your apartment as his home.

“Lean down a bit.” You smile, pouring a glob of shampoo into your hand for him. Johnny’s always been picky about his hair care. You always make sure it’s on hand in your bathroom.

He does the same for you, of course, when he can, but somehow you both always end up at your place instead. Not that you’d ever complain. You like your place. It’s safe. Warm. A cocoon away from all the parts of the world that have scarred you so deeply.

Johnny groans happily as you scratch his scalp, the quality shampoo cleaning far more deeply than any of that standard issue stuff he gets on deployment ever could. You watch the suds slowly drip down over the lines of his back, breath catching as your eyes settle on a nasty, raised patch of skin you hadn’t seen before.

It looks like a chunk got ripped out of his back, right under his ribs.

“Johnny.” You gasp.

“Hm?” He looks over his shoulder at you, brows raising as he realizes what you’re looking at. “Oh tha’? It’s nothin’. Just go’ a bit knocked around, remember?”

You bite your lip, tamping down the rising fear in your gut. “D-does it hurt?”

“I’m fine, lovie.” Johnny turns, giving you that sparkling, million dollar grin. He knows it scares you, shakes you to the core.

You’ve already lost everyone else in your life, having the ever present threat of losing Johnny as well is too much to handle sometimes. It keeps you up at night, when he’s away, imagining all the worst that could happen to him.

How easy it would be for a simple bullet or knife to shatter your world.

That’s why the two of you keep up this little arrangement. This song and dance at arms length. To spare you. Both of you. Either when he doesn’t come back or you break and run.

You won’t run, though. As much as it hurts, the good is too good to give up. You’ll stay through it all, with just enough distance to keep your sanity.

“Ye with me?” Johnny asks gently, slowly pulling you out of your thoughts and back into the moment.

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry. Long week.” You lie, leaning up on your tip toes to plant a small kiss in the corner of his mouth.

He hums, turning to meet your lips. You let yourself fall into him, fingers running through the hair on his chest, up to the back of his neck. He just feels right under your hands. Perfectly molded to press up against you - hard muscle to balance out the softness of your body. Angles and curves. Push and pull. Sun and moon.

Holy hell, you’ve become a sap.

“Sit.” You point to the chair you drug into the bathroom and Johnny happily plops down - big, fluffy towels tied around your chest and waist respectively. A content smile settles across his face as you slowly work your way across his scalp with the electric razor. You let your fingers to scrape along after you just the way he likes.

When you were young, you watched your mother cut your fathers hair. It seemed so subservient to you. Shameful, almost. You said you’d die before doing that for any man.

You carefully raise each section of his mo-hawk, cutting it down to the exact length Johnny likes to style it. A little on the short side, actually, so that it has time to grow before looking messy. Shearing the sides and taking extra care around his ears. He doesn’t need any more nicks or scars.

Johnny suddenly looks pensive as he watches you in the mirror - carefully taking in each of your movements.

“You’re worrying.” You murmur.

“I-“ He sighs. “It’s nothin’.”

“Johnny.” You level your gaze on his in the mirror, he looks off to the side.

“I’m just- I cannae-“ He sighs. “I miss ye.”

You snort. “I’m right here.”

Johnny shrugs. For once, he stops talking. You hate when he does. It’s the only true hallmark that something is wrong.

“Johnny-“

“Do ye want tae hear a new Ghost joke?” He interrupts. It’s an out. You’ll let him have it.

“Lay it on me.”

“Whit’s the difference between the bird flu and the swine flue?”

“What?”

“One requires tweetment an’ the other requires oinkment.”

A huffy laugh escapes you despite yourself. “That’s terrible.”

“Aye. Imagine listenin’ tae that in a life or death situation. Could be the last thing I hear!”

You giggle, finishing up with shaping the edges of his hairline. “How is it?”

Johnny stands, leaning close to the mirror and running a hand over his hair. Your eyes lock onto that newly forming scar again. It makes your throat feel tight.

He stretches his arms way over his head with a groan. “Think it’s time f’some proper lazin’ about.”

The rest of the night goes by as they usually do when he gets home. Indian take out, a romcom in the background, another round of fucking. Or two. It’s near eleven when you finally settle into the sheets, Johnny long asleep beside you. Comfortably snoring with that angelic peacefulness you only ever see in his sleep.

Will he look that peaceful if he dies?

The thought makes you want to throw up.

It takes all your mental fortitude to push that train of thought away. Opting to lay beside him, eyes flicking across his features as you attempt to memorize them all. The curve of his strong brow, the arch of his nose, the slight part in his lips as he sleeps. Your thumb traces the scar on his chin while you cup his cheek. As if sensing your current state - and, if you’re honest with yourself, you’re sure he can - a strong arm wraps around you to lock you against his chest. You let your legs tangle, breathing him in and following the pattern of the rise and fall of his chest. Real and tangible under your hands.

You’re just so glad that, at least right now, he’s home.

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s0fter-sin · 1 month

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thinking about the way ghost doesn't hesitate to start killing shadows when graves betrays them but soap only takes one hostage

you can almost hear the voice in his head telling him it doesn't have to be this way; they can still talk it out

"i'm calling shepherd"

his first instinct when confronted with betrayal is to play it by the books; to go up the chain and sort it out democratically. that goes against everything we've seen him do; he’s quick to drop his enemies and bucks authority at every chance except for the one time he's confronted with the barrels of his allies' guns

he wants a peaceful resolution; for the first time we've ever seen, he doesn't want violence to be the answer

there has to be another fix, a solution that doesn't end with him killing the same men he's been working with; his friends

nothing's happened yet

it doesn't have to go this way

but ghost has been betrayed before. he knows the way this ends; either with him six feet under or his enemy

he doesn't hesitate

it's only when they knock alejandro out that soap shoots; when they spill the first blood and cross a line they can never come back from

only when ghost orders him to run and he has to cover his retreat

and somewhere along the line, between civilians’ screams and taunting voices, between his shaking breath and ghost steady in his ear, that naivety is stripped away; his trust turned to teeth that he uses to sink into throats of men he'd have given his life for

"be careful who you trust, sergeant; people you know can hurt you the most"

he's learned the price of trust

just like ghost did

but unlike ghost, he has someone to guide him through the aftermath

"good advice, It"

#i might crown myself the ceo of soap meta at this point i love digging into this boy #but it seriously fucks me up how much he tries to de escalate the situation #invoking shepherd like hes trying to remind graves of who funds him and the power he holds #the consequences he’ll face if he goes through with this. just stop and think it through first #only to be stricken silent when graves drops ‘general shepherd sends his regards’#he doesnt say a single word after that #ghosts the one who picks up the lead for him ‘he knows about this?’#he can still function through his shock and the gut wrenching betrayal bc he’s been through this before #and he knows freezing will get him killed #but soap doesnt #he freezes #getting shot is something he wouldve been through before but being shot by an ally?#at that moment he isnt sergeant mactavish #hes johnny and hes in shock #and thats why ghost yelling for johnny doesnt reach him #he only breaks through when he calls him soap. when hes forced back into a soldiers mindset #thats all thats keeping him going. he isnt johnny a man whos been betrayed by a friend #hes a soldier following direct orders to keep himself alive #i can only imagine the after #when he lets his rage run out and is faced with the vulnerable and painful betrayal #but ghosts there to help him through that too. there for johnny the way he wished someone had been there for him #coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap cod #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #soapghost

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circusinthewalls · 1 day

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✧ A Proper Fuckin' Masterlist ✧

> Spider-Man: Into/Across the Spiderverse:

Those Simpler Sonnets - Miguel O'Hara x AFAB Reader, Gender Neutral Terms, NSFW, One-Shot.

Fashion Me a Blessing - Miguel O'Hara x AFAB Reader, Gender Neutral Terms, NSFW, Very Short One-Shot.

Fashion Me a Blessing (AMAB Ver.) - Miguel O'Hara x AMAB Reader, Gender Neutral Terms, NSFW, Very Short One-Shot.

> Call of Duty:

(He's Big) Ghost Rambling - Ghost x GN Reader, Gender Neutral Terms, NSFW, One-Shot.

(Not One for Drinking) Poly 141 Rambling - Poly 141 x GN Reader, Gender Neutral Terms, Semi-NSFW, One-Shot.

(Teeth) Ghost Rambling - Ghost x GN Reader, Gender Neutral Terms, NSFW, Two Part One-Shot.

(To Not Confess) Ghoap Rambling - Ghost x Soap, Angst, Very Short One-Shot.

(Sleep) Ghost Rambling - Ghost x GN Reader, Gender Neutral Terms, Fluff, One-Shot.

(Sick) Price Rambling - Price x GN Reader, Gender Neutral Terms, Fluff, One-Shot.

(Don't Talk with Your Mouth Full) Soap Rambling - Soap x GN Reader, Gender Neutral Terms, NSFW, Two Part One-Shot, Ongoing.

(Side Effects) Ghost Rambling - Ghost x GN Reader, Gender Neutral Terms, NSFW, One-Shot.

(Starved) Valeria Rambling - Valeria x AFAB Reader, Gender Neutral Terms, NSFW, One-Shot.

Art and writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies. Dividers are my own and I politely ask that you do not use them elsewhere. Thank you. <3

> Last Updated: 5/30/2024 | 1:26 A.M.

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zombiecreampie · 4 months

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Ghost x Reader:

note: pls be kind. I might write a part 2 where there is smut but ima be honest, I’ve never written smut before. I’m willing to try because idk ghost is so sexy and hot and I love him so much LOL.

#imagine Being out with task force 141 as a way to celebrate your last day of deployment before you have a couple months off. All of you decided to go to the bar as a way to cool off and let off some steam. You were dressed in casual attire compared to what other girls were wearing. You didn’t realize how fancy the bar you guys had chosen was going to be. As you stand at the bar, waiting for the drinks your team ordered. A guy came up to you and bumped his elbow into you. You smiled politely, taking a step to the left so you wouldn’t bump into him again. He slyly took a step closer, winking at you as he invaded your space. You turned your head, avoiding eye contact and drumming your fingers against the counter top.

“Hey” you heard in your ear. A shiver ran down your spine and you turned your head slightly to turn back to the man next to you. You nodded your head in a greeting and turned your head away, hoping this man will take the hint. Your body swayed slightly, the shots you had taken earlier finally catching up to you.

“You alone?” He continued. You gritted your teeth in annoyance, and shook your head, deciding to put your attention on the menu on the overhead of the bar. You wanted to enjoy your little moment of bliss, not wanting it to be ruined by some jerk who wanted to get into your pants.

He turned his body to directly face you and you dropped your head and sighed under your breath, knowing where this conversation was going. You lifted your head and looked at him expectantly.

“Cmon, don’t be like that princess. I’m just hitting on a pretty girl at a bar” he explained, looking at you up and down. You tried to remain confident but the vibes this man was letting off was making you uncomfortable. You began looking around for an outing and you decided to swivel your head back toward the table where your teammates were at and did a double take when you saw ghost staring intently at you. You widened your eyes at him and looked back at the stranger in front of you .

“Look, I am not interested so please leave me alone” you said, taking a step back. You saw the man’s hand twitch as if he wanted to physically stop you from moving away from him.

“Cmon, I just wanna have some fun” he pouted and this time you physically cringed. You shook your head and put your hands up to balance yourself and to put more distance between the two of you. The stranger took this as a sign to grab your wrists and pull you into him. You grunted when you hit his chest and he took the opportunity to wrap his arm around your waist. The first thing you noticed was his stench. He smelled of sweat,cigarettes, and alcohol and it made you want to physically gag. You began to panic and squirmed around trying to get out of his grip. Although you were basically a trained assassin, the situation escalating so quickly threw you off and not to mention, you were buzzed from pregaming with Soap beforehand.

“Fucking let go of me” you groaned again, when his smell began to abuse your nostrils.

You suddenly felt cold. The man’s body laid sprawled out in front of you and you gaped at him. Your eyes widened, the entire situation to much to process at once. Soap grabbed your shoulders, putting you behind him while Ghost shook his hand, his knuckles bloodied. Ghost turned to look at you as if he were asking you if you were okay. You nodded timidly, grabbing onto Soap’s shoulder, squeezing lightly to indicate that you wanted to leave. As Soap was going to escort you out, Ghost grabbed your wrist and proceeded to pull you towards the exit. You turned your head back towards the table full of your teammates and Price was smirking while Gaz stared wide-eyed at Ghost and you. Ghost pushed open the back door and dragged you towards his all black BMW. He opened the door, making sure you got into the passenger seat before he walked around and got into the car. He huffed as he started the car, immediately pressing the gas, taking off and leaving behind a cloud of smoke.

“Thank you” you said after a minute of silence.

“What the hell was that sergeant?” Ghost said, his voice calm and stoic. He completely ignored your gratitude and gripped the steering wheel tight.

“I-um” you began.

“You were just gonna let another man touch you like that?” You stared at his knuckles from the corner of your eye, staring as they were turning white while being red from punching the man who almost assaulted you.

Suddenly Ghost came to a halt, you realized he stopped in the middle of nowhere and you looked at him confused. He turned the car off and got out slamming his door shut in the process. You followed suit, confused as to why he was so angry and especially why he stopped in the middle of nowhere, where it was pitch black and nothing could be seen for miles.

“Ghost, I’m sorry but it wasn’t my fault. He began harassing me and-“ you began but again you were interrrupted.

“HAVE I NOT TRAINED YOU WELL ENOUGH TO DEFEND YOURSELF SERGEANT?” Ghost yelled, his eyes glaring at you. You nodded your head, walking around the hood of the car towards him. You didn’t know why but you wanted to prove your point to Ghost. You wanted him to understand the situation.

“Ghost-“ you pleaded.

“It’s lieutenant, sarge” Ghost interrupted again. You huffed at his interruption and narrowed your eyes. Now you were getting annoyed.

“Okay, Lieutenant. I wasn’t asking for him to harass me. He began talking to me at the bar and I acted uninterested and then he wouldn’t stop throwing himself at me. I was getting annoyed and I was trying to-“ Ghost scoffed, and you looked up into his eyes. You never realized how much taller he was than you.

“What is your problem?” You raised your voice a little. Seriously, he was acting like you were asking for that to happen.

“Obviously my problem is the fact that man put hands on you” he said, his jaw clenching underneath the balaclava. “Why was he touching you at all?” He expressed, gritting his teeth. He looked at you, his eyes holding so much fury, you were almost scared. Almost. He took a step closer to you, your chests inches away from touching yours. You felt your breath stutter as your face was inches away from his. His scent invaded your nose, and he smelled like cologne, wood, and sex. His eyes fluttered down towards your lips for such a quick second that if you weren’t paying attention, you would have missed it.

“Y/n, I don’t like when anyone touches you. It bothers me” he admitted, looking into your eyes, almost as if he was trying to look into your soul. You were taken aback by his confession. For Ghost, that was admitting a lot for a man with little words. Ghost admitting he cared for you had your heart pounding insanely hard inside your rib cage. You were sure if Ghost got any closer, he would be able to hear it.

“Lieutenant” you whispered breathlessly.

You had to admit, since you joined task force 141, you always had a thing for him. He was such a well statured man, always carrying his team and himself so confidently. Seeing him barking orders, working out, or anything he does makes you wet between your legs. Right now was not any different. You felt a tingle in between your legs and you can feel your pussy clench around nothing. As if Ghost could smell your arousal, his eyes flickered down to your lips and this time he made sure you saw that he was staring at them. His hand reached out to grab your waist and pushed you gently against driver’s side door. You felt yourself pinned against the hard space, looking at Ghost. Waiting for him to do something, anything.

His hand reached for his balaclava, raising it so it stopped right beneath his nose and you were entranced by seeing his lips. You’ve seen them many times before but seeing them so close was doing something to you. All your wild thoughts coming forward. How would his lips feel on yours? How would they feel on your neck, right on your sweet spot? How would they feel kissing your inner thighs? You couldn’t take it anymore. You grabbed him by the collar of his uniform and pulled him into you crashing your lips on him. His hands immediately grabbed your waist, gesturing you to jump up, and you obeyed. He easily lifted you up and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, hooking at the ankles. He pushed his hips into yours, pinning you to the car again, this time his clothed bulge rubbing against your clit. Your mouth opening to let out a breathy moan and he took it as a chance to shove his tongue inside. Your tongues swirled around each other and you could really taste him. You could taste the whiskey he was drinking earlier and you usually hated the taste of whiskey but right now you couldn’t get enough of it. As you sucked on his tongue, he grinded harder into your cunt and you moaned quietly into his mouth and he pulled away to look at your face.

“Fuck, I think that’s my new favorite sound love” he said, breathlessly. You felt his bulge grow larger as he continued rubbing himself against you and you swore you were gonna cum just from dry humping each other. You moaned again when his lips started peppering kisses up and down your neck. You grabbed the back of his head, tilting your head back to give him better access. You felt his lips smirk against your skin and then he began sucking. You moaned loudly, and you felt your face get hot from how much you sounded like a pornstar. You were glad you were in the middle of nowhere because if you were around someone and they had heard you, you would have died of embarrassment. He pulled away again, looking at your neck proudly.

“There, love. Now no one will touch what’s mine” his voice deep with lust.

“Should we finish this in the car love?” He asked, his eyes searching yours for an answer. You nodded ferociously and he bellowed out a laugh. He let you go and your feet planted themselves on the ground. He reached for the door handle and shoved you inside and went in right after you.

#simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghostsoap #ghost mw2 #smut #fluff #john soap mactavish #john price #captain price #kyle gaz garrick #one shot #imagine #shorts

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ghosts-bandwagon · 1 year

Text

One Shots:

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

Say When (song fic) Ghost loves hard Love at first sight isn't real (yes, it is) Burnout Too fucking close reader loves to read [slight nsfw/suggestive] König's unrequited love for Ghost's s/o Ghost's That We Knew Meeting the family

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

Soap loves you Stay [NSFW, smut]

John Price:

Your John loves you Anything with John Price Daddy energy [slight nsfw/suggestive] Loss and Burnout

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

coming soon!

König:

sa comfort (part 3) unrequited love for Ghost's s/o language barriers can cause misunderstandings (and good things too)

Alejandro Vargas:

reader loves to read [slight nsfw/suggestive] reader has iron deficiency anemia and has an episode on a mission

Rodolfo Parra:

reader has iron deficiency anemia and has an episode on a mission

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #könig x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo parra x reader #rodolfo rudy parra x reader #cod x reader #mw2 x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod one shot

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criminalamnesia · 1 year

Text

Intertwined

warnings: blood, angst, heavy themes briefly mentioned (murder, alcoholism, PTSD), undefined age gap between price and reader (just a few years), not completely proofread, she/her pronouns used

summary: missions with price never seem to go as planned.

author’s note: I have no clue what this is. I just wanted to write for Price, and ended up with this long one-shot. I also tried sort of a new writing style, so let me know what you think! also this is sorta an oc x price bc I’ve given somewhat of a backstory and the callsign “viper” but you could also read it as a reader insert! :)

Sometimes she didn’t know how she got here.

Blood soaked her shirt. Her shoulder throbbed. Her fingers were sticky with blood– hers and her attacker’s.

He had gotten her good– the knife was still sticking out of her left shoulder. She knew better than to remove the blade. They were in the middle of nowhere; jungle spanned for miles around. She’d be lucky if she didn’t bleed out before her team found her.

“Viper,” Price over the radio. “Status?”

“Took a hit,” she said through gritted teeth, yanking her own knife out of her attacker’s neck. Blood spurted from the wound, pooling around the dead body. His eyes were still open, staring at her. She ignored them.

“Jus’ the shoulder. I’m good,” she told her captain. She could hear Price grunt in response. If she were anyone else, she might have thought that he didn’t care. But she wasn’t, and she knew he was concerned– worried, even.

There wasn’t anything he could do. He was too far away and in the middle of his own fight. She didn’t need his help, anyways. As she always told him:

“I’m a big girl, Cap. I can handle myself.”

That always earned an unamused hum from him.

“Keep moving then,” the crackle of his voice on the radio broke her from her thoughts.

“Roger that, Cap.”

She really didn’t know how she got here.

She hadn’t been interested in the military. Hell, it wasn’t even on her radar. She had been a girl from a shitty, small town with a decent family. She wanted to go to university, get a job, start a family.

Now she was alone in the middle of a jungle, a knife in her shoulder, and the mission the only thing she truly cared about. Well, one of the only things.

Price had found her when she was twenty-two. He wasn’t even a captain yet.

“You alright?”

His voice had startled her. She hadn’t known anyone else was in the room. Her head nodded instinctively, her eyes still on the dead bodies of her family strewn before her.

“Sir, we’ve got a survivor.” He was speaking into his radio. She heard a voice respond, but whatever was being said didn’t register in her mind.

She would come to find out later that her family wasn’t as decent as they had seemed. Her father had been in deep with a drug-lord. He’d betrayed him, ratted him out to the cops– and next thing she knew, she was sitting in a pool of her family’s blood.

Price had helped her up from the floor. Her pants were soaked through with blood. A bullet had grazed her cheek, leaving a nasty cut in its wake. Somehow she had survived, barely hurt. She didn’t think she deserved it.

She thought she should’ve died with her family.

“What’s your name, dove?” He asked her, his hand wrapped gently around her bicep. He led her out of the room. They passed more soldiers.

She told him. He said it was a pretty name. He didn’t leave her until she was situated in a hotel, two hours away. She hadn’t insisted he stay– yet he had. Perhaps he knew that she needed someone to just sit there.

Before he left, he put his number in her phone. He shouldn’t have– he knew better. But there was something about her, he just couldn’t help it. He told her to call if she needed anything. She never did.

He ran into her a year later by pure luck. She had fallen down a hole. Dropped out of school. No job, no friends. An alcoholic with a death wish. Price had saved her. He gave her a purpose. He made her smile again.

“You good, Cap?” She was moving again, eyes scanning her surroundings, her gun in her hands.

“Peachy,” was his response. She snorted.

He didn’t say anything else, and neither did she. It was supposed to be simple reconnaissance mission. In, gather intel, out. Simple.

Funny how the simple missions always seemed to go south the fastest.

“Cap,” it was Gaz now, finally piping up. He’d been quiet for some time. “Target spotted. Next moves?”

Price didn’t respond. A gunshot sounded in the distance.

“Shit,” she hissed, picking up her pace. “Captain, how copy?”

Nothing. Her blood was pounding in her ears.

“Viper, position?” She could hear the worry in Gaz’s tone.

“Heading towards the gunshot. Stay on target, Sergeant.”

“Roger,” Gaz spoke.

She raised her gun as she stepped through the foliage, hoping that when she found Price, he was still breathing.

“You broken?” Price was talking to her, a hand outstretched as he stood over her. She huffed, reaching up a shaky hand to take his.

“Not the first time I’ve been shot at.” She spoke, her voice steady, but he knew better. She was shaking like a leaf– and Price knew. He knew that she was back in that moment, seeing the blood pool around her. Seeing those lifeless eyes, lifeless bodies. It had been two years, but those images were still as fresh in her mind as if it had happened yesterday.

“Right,” he said, his tone disbelieving. “If you’re gonna stay with me, kid, you’re gonna have to keep up.”

She had kept up. She had worked ten times harder than those around her just to keep up. She was at a disadvantage– she didn’t have training or discipline. She didn’t want to follow just anyone into a firefight. She wanted to follow him.

“Price,” she was trying him again. She could hear the leaves rustling nearby. “You broken?”

A cough. Not just over the radio– to her left, too. She picked up her pace, jogging as she moved towards the sound.

“I’m solid,” he finally spoke into the radio as she found him. He looked up as she pushed past low-hanging branches. “Gaz, status?”

Gaz was talking, but she didn’t hear anything he said. She moved to the captain, eyes scanning him for his wound. He got hit in the thigh. She withheld a sigh of relief.

“Fancy new jewelry,” Price teased, the hand not pressing at his wound reached up to tap the hilt of the blade. She hissed and jerked away from him.

“This the thanks I get for coming to help your old ass?” She replied, holstering her gun and reaching for his pack. He’d gotten it partway off before giving up. She tugged it the rest of the way off his body, then began to dig for bandages.

“Thanks, dove,” he said, his voice a familiar, conceding grumble.

She pulled out the supplies and swatted his hand away from his thigh. Blood oozed from the wound. Price gave the slightest wince as she began to wrap the bandage, pulling tight in hopes of stanching the bleeding.

“Why didn’t you take it out?” He questioned, breaking the silence.

“Risk of bleeding out. Didn’t have bandages,” she shrugged. He gave a disapproving hum.

“I’ve been telling you that you need to better prepare–”

“Save the lecture for when we’re home, yeah?” She interrupted, tying off the bandage. He grunted in response.

“Cap, Viper, I’ve got the intel. What’s your position?” Gaz was talking again.

“We’re moving back towards the truck,” she said, earning an eyebrow raise from Price. “Meet you there.”

“Copy.”

Without a word between them, she ducked forward and slung one of his arms over her good shoulder, tucking herself into his side. She slowly helped him up, his only protests coming in the form of barely-there grunts.

“You broken?” She asked again once he was on his feet.

“I’m fine,” he replied, trying to hobble forward ahead of her. She scoffed and hurried to help him, wincing a little as his hand brushed the knife still in her shoulder.

“Should’ve pulled that damn knife out,” he grumbled.

“I’ll pull the knife out and stick it in your other leg, old man,” she huffed in response.

“That’s no way to talk to your captain.”

“Lecture when we’re home,” she reminded him.

“I don’t need a lecture, John.” She had seethed. Three years into her service. She was twenty-five, now. “You of all people should understand.”

“What I understand,” he began. “Is that you’re risking what you’ve built here.”

“Over seeing that guy for drinks? Are you kidding?”

“You’re being childish.” He said. His arms were crossed over his chest. He looked angry. She didn’t understand why.

“I’m trying to live again! You dug me out of that hole, John. I’m grateful for that. But I’m fine now– I don’t need a babysitter. I want to rebuild my life– make connections.”

“You’ve made connections. Me, Gaz–”

“Maybe I want something more!” She interrupted. “Maybe I want something more than a mission. More than a man who pities me and brought me here to clear his guilty conscience.”

Price bristled. “You know that’s not true.”

“I don’t know anything with you. We’re comrades, we’re friends, we’re something m–”

“Alright,” his voice was tense. “Go then.”

The truck was up ahead. Gaz wasn’t there yet. She inhaled deeply as she helped Price towards the passenger’s side.

“I can drive,” he told her. She rolled her eyes.

“Gaz is driving.” She slipped out of his grasp and left him leaning against the hood of the truck before moving to open the passenger door. “Can you make it a few steps, or do I need to help you?”

He said something under his breath, but she didn’t catch it. She watched as he limped forward, one hand on the car to support his movement. Once he made it to the door, she grabbed one of his arms to help.

“You should be keeping watch,” he scolded, but there was no real bite behind his words.

“I’d rather not have to deal with you falling and breaking a hip.”

He gave another huff– but she could see a hint of amusement on his face. He was only a handful of years older than her, but she always teased him about it. He acted annoyed, but most of the time she could tell he was trying not to laugh at her jabs. At least, she liked to think he was.

She helped him get into the truck, and he didn’t complain. They were both quiet as they moved. It was a well-practiced routine at this point. One gets hurt, one helps. Get them into the truck. Get them into the helicopter. Keep them breathing, whatever it takes.

“Viper, you die on me and I’m gonna kill you,” Price seethed, his hands pressing down hard on her abdomen. She had already lost too much blood. Her eyes were barely open.

She gave a weak chuckle at his words. “We… both know… you’re dyin’ first, old… man.”

Once he was settled in the passenger seat, she shut the door and scanned the area. It was quiet, which meant one of two things.

They were in the clear, or they were fucked.

“Gaz,” Price was back on the radio. “Position?”

One beat. Two. Three.

“Almost there– shit! They’re on my tail!” Gaz was panting over the radio.

They were fucked.

Her eyes widened as she ran to the other side of the truck, throwing open the driver’s door and jumping in. Price glanced her way, but said nothing.

She winced as she moved, the knife still in shoulder an obstacle as she frantically fumbled for the keys they’d hidden in the truck, just in case shit hit the fan.

“Price, Viper, we gotta go!” Gaz was yelling as he pushed his way into the clearing, sprinting to the truck and all but diving into the truck bed.

“I know, I know!” She shouted back, fear crawling up her spine. No matter how often she was in these positions– having to act fast or be killed– she could never shake the absolute panic that consumed her.

“Viper, focus,” it was Price, his voice bringing her back. His voice always brought her back.

Gunshots could be heard nearby. Some hit the truck and Gaz was yelling. She finally found the keys, shoved under a pile of junk in the center console. She jammed them into the ignition and the truck sputtered to life.

“Fuck, go! Go!” Gaz was returning fire, shooting into the foliage as men pushed into the clearing. Price grabbed his own gun and leaned out the passenger side window to cover them.

“I’m going!” She yelled back indignantly, stepping on the gas. The truck lurched forward, nearly throwing Gaz out.

“Viper, watch it!” He called over the gunfire.

She didn’t reply, too busy on trying to get them out of that damn jungle. Bullets dinged off the metal of the truck, but none of them hit home. She inhaled deeply as the gunfire eventually stopped, and they were in the clear.

“Bloody hell, Viper, you trying to kill me?” Gaz peeked his head through the rear window, staring at her. She rolled her eyes, hands clutching the wheel so hard her knuckles turned white.

“That’s enough, Gaz,” Price. Gaz didn’t protest, but she knew he was grumbling under his breath.

“Viper, what the hell are you doing?” Gaz was yelling at her as she stared through her scope, her eyes locked on her target. Her finger itched the trigger, but she just couldn’t bring herself to pull it.

The man had looked startlingly like her father. Her father, who had gotten almost his entire family murdered. Her father, who had lied and cheated and sealed his own fate. She didn’t know why– but she couldn’t pull the trigger.

All she saw when she looked at that man was the image of her father, smiling at her at the dinner table. Her father, teaching her how to ride a bike without training wheels. Playing games with him in the backyard. Watching movies with him. Her father.

Price shouldn’t know– couldn’t. But he did, apparently. “Gaz,” his voice was stern. “Enough. She’s got it.”

She took the shot.

“If I was tryin’ to kill you,” she threw the words at him over her shoulder. “You’d be dead.”

Gaz snorted, but didn’t take the bait. She didn’t know if she had wanted him to. Silence fell around them, then.

“Safe house is up ahead,” Price broke the silence that had consumed them for the past twenty minutes. “No bickering when we get inside, you two. Like a bunch of damn kids,” he said under his breath.

The safe house was a dilapidated little cottage on the edge of a forest. It was hidden enough to the naked eye that no one unwanted should stumble upon them, but that didn’t mean they shouldn’t be cautious. She slowed the truck to a stop behind a thick bush nearby, just in case.

The three clambered out of the truck, grabbing previously discarded gear and trudging through overgrown grass to the house. Gaz went in first to sweep the house. Once he gave the all clear, she and Price beelined for the small kitchen. Gaz was somewhere else– probably the shower.

This was their routine. Find safety and patch each other up. He usually helped her first, but she forced him into a rickety wooden chair before he could so much as gesture at the knife still in her shoulder.

Her hands were shaking as she untied the bandage around his thigh. His chin was tilted down, eyes watching her as she worked. Neither said a word. Another part of their routine.

Safety. Silence. Stitches.

She cleaned the wound. He barely flinched. She threaded the needle. He breathed in. She looked up at him, a silent signal. He breathed out as she pushed the needle into his skin and sewed the wound shut.

“Thanks, dove.” He spoke when it was done.

She gave a small nod as she finished tying off the clean bandage. She stood and started towards the kitchen sink, but one of his hands grabbed hers.

She looked down at him, still situated in the chair. His thumb brushed the back of her red-stained hand.

“Captain…” she breathed out, her eyes meeting his.

There was a softness in his gaze that she would never truly understand. She didn’t know what he saw in her.

She didn’t know why he had done what he did for her. Stayed with her after that night, all those years ago. Put his number in her phone. Pulled her out of that hole she put herself in. Helped her through her recovery. Trained her, believed in her, stuck his neck out for her.

He released her hand.

She really didn’t know how she got here.

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http-paprika · 5 months

Text

A Captain MacTavish Ramble because this man could run me over and I’d thank him. This has not been beta-read at all, not sorry.

⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆

“Aye, I could be good to you— if you’ll just let me.” The sound of John MacTavish’s voice is like a divine calling, coaxing you to bend to his will. You almost cry out at the feeling of his calloused hands finding their home on your hips, the scruff of his beard rough against your skin

“I keep my promises dinnae I?” Those baby blue eyes looked up at you like you were the moon and the stars. A hungry desire coursing through his blood at the sounds you made. Each cry a prayer, a desperate plea for him. A need for the captain.

He would be good for you, so good you’d never want another.

#captain john mactavish #john soap mactavish #og soap #09 soap mactavish #09 call of duty #call of duty #call of duty one shot #john soap mctavish x you #soap x reader #og john soap mactavish #lord save me

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the-abyss-of-fandoms · 2 years

Text

Y/N finally done beating around the bush makes Ghost sit in front of them as they stand

Y/N: What do you want from me? Sex? Done. Kids? Let me get Soap out of the building then I’m yours. Marriage? I can get Price down here in an hour. What I’m saying is you’re fucking hot and I want a few minutes of your time is all I ask.

Ghost: I-

Soap who’s been pushing Y/N to confess for months: JUST SAY YES FOR THE LOVE OF-!

#platonic soap #we love a supportive friend #supportive #johnny soap mactavish #soap call of duty #john soap mactavish #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost imagine #ghost call of duty #ghost x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley cod #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #one shot #imagine

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princessdimondheart · 8 months

Text

Hot Tamales | Ghost x Canis! OC + TF-141 + Los Vaqueros

Pairing: Ghost x f! OC

Warnings: language, the bois simp for food

Edited: No

A/N: A little post for Hispanic Heritage Month, a day after it ‘ended,’ but it’s always Hispanic Heritage Month for me lol. My mom and I made tamales a few weeks back and that kinda inspired this. I know it’s not what you’re expecting that I update but I wanted to get this posted even though it’s late. This could be considered part of the It’s The Dog series but as a separate one shot. Canis is Mexican but it can be read as any Latina Reader.

Masterlist

Character banner ©️ Me

🫔.

For the last day or so, Johnny not Ghost could find Canis and both were beginning to get a bit worried. So, Johnny asked around the base they were on if anyone had seen her. No luck until one of Alejandro’s Corporals said that she had been in the mess’ kitchen. Quickly sending a text to Ghost, Johnny made his way to the mess hall.

An incredible aroma came from the large room the closer down the hall he went. Ghost was already standing at the doors waiting for him.

“Ah, that smells so good L.t.” He grinned at the taller man.

“Very good.” Ghost replied, shockingly in approval.

Johnny was just about to push the doors open when a loud bang sounded from down the hall. It was Alejandro and Rudy.

“Te dije, Rudy! The smell is coming from here!” The Colonel shouted. “Mmm… tengo hambre.”

“You were right, Ale. But who’s making them?” The two men jogged to where Soap and Ghost were standing.

“You know what’s goin’ on, Alejandro?” Johnny questioned. “It smells really good! What is it?”

“No idea, amigo! Those are tamales!” He shook Johnny’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me you’ve never tried tamales before?”

Johnny shook his head and when Alejandro looked at Ghost, he also denied ever having them. Both Mexicans shook their heads.

“Oh, you’re missing out!” Rudy looked at them with pity.

“It’s only one of the finest dishes Mexican cuisine has to offer.” Ale added. “You’re in for a treat!”

They finally head in and see that a decent sized crowd had formed around the kitchen doorway. Many of them were practically drooling at the delicious smell. They made their way through the crowd and inside they saw Canis.

Rudy called out to her first, “Canis! You’re the one making tamales?”

She turned around at his voice. “Rudy, sí. I’ve been prepping since yesterday and now the tamales are steaming. I think they’ll be ready in about ten minutes. Think you boys can wait?”

Canis was wearing an apron that had the Los Vaqueros logo on the front. Earlier that day, she decided she would make one with the 141’s logo on it. It was stained with mole, pork, and masa. There was a very large pot behind her on the stove filled to the brim with tamales. The food station was relatively clean after the mess she had made the previous day and that morning. She’d taken the time to put everything away and clean up. Although, there were still some corn husks left on the table.

“Of course we can wait, lass!” Johnny called out from behind Ghost. Whose body took up much of the doorway.

Then the group had the others waiting around go to sit at the tables while they waited for the tamales to finish cooking. When the ten minutes were up, the mess staff helped Canis distribute the tamales to the voraciously hungry soldiers and staff. They thought that the tamales would be gone by then but out came Canis with a large warming platter filled with tamales.

“I saved a bunch for you guys, and there’s more in the freezer to be steamed later on.” Canis smiled at them, placing the platter of tamales onto the table. She gestured to the food. “Go ahead.”

Alejandro and Rudy were quick to place a hot tamale on their plates. They were not as careful to spread apart the corn husks and dug into the steaming meal.

“Ah-Ah!” The two sucked in air to their mouths to cool off their burning tongues.

Canis shook her head at the two traviesos. “Con cuidado! You’ll burn your tongues.”

“It tastes better when they’re hot and fresh.” Alejandro panted, still cooling his mouth. Canis rolled her eyes at him.

On the other hand, the Brit and the Scot were going at their food at a much slower pace. They seemed to be enjoying themselves.

“This is good, Canis.” Ghost looked at her.

“Thank you, Ghost.” She smiled and her cheeks burned. Alejandro cleared his throat.

“If a woman makes you tamales, she’s probably in love with you.” Alejandro smirked at her. The other men whipped their heads to look at her with wide eyes. Ghost squinted at her, an unfamiliar emotion in his dark eyes. Canis’ brow rose in question. “Who on the team have you fallen for, amiga?”

“No one, Alejandro. I just wanted to make some tamales for everyone.” She side-eyed him. “It’s my Abuelita’s recipe. I was feeling a bit homesick so I made these to help cheer me up.”

Ghost hummed while Rudy and Johnny nodded their heads.

“They’re the best thing I’ve ever eaten, and I’ve eaten lots of things, lass.” Johnny complimented.

Canis chuckled. “I’m glad you guys are enjoying it.” She fiddled with her fingers. “I was worried that I’d mess it up or something. I even messaged my Abuelita about a few things.”

“Nothing to worry about Canis! They’re the most delicious tamales I’ve ever had.” Alejandro went to go back to eating but jolted upright. “Don’t tell my mama I said that!”

Canis and Rudy burst out laughing. Johnny grinned at them and Ghost ignored them. He basically inhaled the whole tamale in three bites, and was glancing at the plate of tamales.

Canis noticed.

“Who wants seconds?”

~~~~~

Bonus:

“They remind me of my grandmother’s tamales.” Rudy teared up. “I miss her.”

“Ayy, don’t cry Rudy.” She pat his back. “Here, have another tamale.”

Canis placed another wrapped tamale on his plate before turning back to the stove to finish cleaning up. She didn’t see the glint in his eyes nor the smirk on his lips, but Alejandro did.

“Rudy, you cabrón! That’s your fourth one!”

Masterlist

🔖 Taglist:

@missroro @wobblywolf @animarix @islanderr @sae1kie @abbiesxox @frazie99 @undercover-smutlover

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juvenillia · 8 months

Text

~ second death ~ Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x fem!reader [hurt fic]

summary: Johnny has to prepare himself for a special day, that he never believed would come.

a/n: what can I say? I read this quote and had to get those broken feelings out of my system sorry not sorry we like to suffer

cw/tw: angst, hurt (no comfort), mentions of loss, death, petnames, there is some fluff in between

worcount: 1.8k

》Read on AO3《》Master Post《

"There was before you and there was during you. For some reason, I never thought there would be an after you." - Colleen Hoover

The look in the mirror, nothing more than a tired reflection of him, staring in the distant. Johnny always knew that his job was hard. That it was full of vicious events repeating one another. But he always came back, especially after he found a reason to which to return to.

"Can I help you?", you asked him with your sweetest smile. He only stood there, literally staring at you. When he was on leave, he always dropped by the traditional bakery in his hometown. Mr. Kringle would already know what he ordered. It was always the same, a pair of the fudge brownies with white chocolate inside and a regular coffee. He didn't expect to be greeted by a new face. "Uhrm. Can ye recommend something?" He suddenly sounded so insecure. So, unlike his physical appearance. Your eyes trailed over the different things separating the two of you behind the glass. "I do fancy these. They're sweet but not to over the top and go perfectly with a black coffee." You explained softly pointing at the baked goods. He didn't even look at them, his eyes are pinned at your soft features. Trying to burn every feature in his brain and he only nodded. "Would you like anything else?", you said soothing while packing his order with such a careful and lovely manner. "Yer number." He was so straightforward, his voice much more confident and you couldn't help the blush growing on your cheeks. Of course, you gave him your number.

He changed; the last mission was harder. Harder than he ever thought, because for the first time he had the feeling, the fear, of not returning. And somehow, he didn’t. A part of him stayed there. A part of him died in Las Almas. That was the first time John MacTavish died. His glance flashes to the bed of your shared bedroom. Well folded sheets, silky in a wonderful olive green. They still hold your scent. It is the only thing that keeps him sane. It is the only thing that lulls him to sleep. He wasn’t able to change those sheets since he returned.

"I like the green ones. They complement the lights when the sun rises.", you chimed while holding the fabric in your delicate fingers. "Whatever yer want, mo ghraidh." [my love] he placed a soft kiss onto the crone of your head. "Johnny.", you exhaled jokingly annoyed. "What?" - "It's gonna be your home too, you can't let me decide everything.", you said while placing the sheets in the shopping cart and hooking your arm around his. He only smiled at you. "Whatever makes you smile, makes me happy."

His eyes return to the image in the mirror. He adjusts the bow tie around his neck. Smoothing out some wrinkles in the suit he wears. He hates suits. Especially this one.

"Bloody ‘ell, MacTavish. It isn't that hard to pick a damn suit.", Simon exhaled annoyed while Johnny puts on what feels like the millions suit. "It has to be perfect. Alright?!", he yelled from the changing room where he just fought with those tight pants. Maybe he gained some muscles again and should buy a larger one. You definitely wouldn't mind. "She isn't marrying the suit; she is marrying ya. And that is already a miracle itself mate.", Simon explained while scrolling through his phone. Johnny paused his movements and grins like a mad man. Bended over he looked in the tiny mirror in front of him, but not at himself. More like in the distant. " 'm gonna marry her.", his voice is filed with pure sincerity.

His fingers run over the side of the bed where you always slept. The mattress still having an imprint of your figure where you were lying all the time. The spot he now sits down and would just love to be swallowed by the soft mattress.

"Love...", you exhaled only above a whisper. He only pushed him closer into you, his head resting on your chest and counting your heartbeat while trying to steady his own. You absently let your hand play with the strand of his hair. "It’s alright. I’m here with you.", you chimed in your sing song voice. He only nuzzled his head further into you while squeezing your sides. "I love ya, bonnie." You only kissed the top of his head. “I love you too.”, he closed his eyes again and drifted away once more.

His eyes trail over to the window. Showing a little garden. It was neatly organized. Flowers blooming everywhere. The ones right in front if the window, they were your favorites.

"MacTavish, you're an unbelievable idiot.", you cried out while cleaning the mud from your face. He wrapped his arms around your waist, hands full of dirt. "And all yours, my dear.", he chimed while picking you up and swirling your around. Holding you close in his embrace. "Forever, yours.", he repeated softly before letting your lips meet his. You cupped his cheeks, but mostly to get revenge. Greasing the mud all over his face, just like he did a few minutes before. "Ya gonna regret that." He snickers, while you pulled out if his embrace and started running away from him. The laugh never ending while he chased you and pulled you down into the still wet grass and planted kisses all over your face. It was his favorite melody.

He pushes himself up from the bed and goes downstairs. Simon is already here, as well as Kyle. He looks at them, wearing those suits he knew too well. They look back at him. Their faces wear a weak smile, and Johnny only nods before his eyes drift over to the kitchen to the right.

"Bonnie, we have guests.", Johnny yelled out while entering your house. You walked downstairs to greet his teammates. "Nice to see you again. Tea?", you chimed while heading over to the kitchen and pulling the kettle down from the shelf. "I still think ya don't deserve her, Soap.", Kyle said while following you. "When yer hold hostage blink twice.", he said looking at you, and Johnny just pushed him gently in the side. "Ya can always call, when he does something stupid.", Simon assured you. Pulling out their usual mugs from the shelf above you. "So, you mean like all the time?", you asked jokingly. You all laughed. During these times the world seemed alright.

It's silent. The two men only look at him, nodding silently. Johnny swallows hardly before heading outside to Simon's car. The taller man taking the driver’s seat. Johnny sinks int the passenger seat and closes his eyes.

"You won't drive. Please you're way too battered, love.", you pulled him away from the driver’s seat and he lets you. Simon gently took the keys out of Johnny's hand. "Aye. But you dae wanna make out with me still. Eh?", his walk was sloppy as you helped him in the backseat, still wearing the smile you fell in love with in the first place. Kyle took the passenger’s seat in the front. "Always." You placed a quick peek on his cheek while securing the seatbelt before moving into the car next to him. Reaching out for his hand.

The men climb out of the car and head right into the church. With every step forward it grows heavier. Johnny wants to run away. He wants to turn away. Simon and Kyle are right behind him. Simon’s hand lingered on his shoulder. His face is serious, but never cold.

"Finally satisfied?", Kyle asked in a mocking tone. "I hope so.", Simon exhaled quite annoyed. They wore the suits Johnny picked out and they stood in front of a mirror. Johnny nodded. "She's gonna love it.", he beams in happiness and even Simon couldn't suppress the smile growing at his lips.

They enter the church you loved so much. Everything seemed so pretty. Too pretty. The place is decorated in your favorite flowers. Your friends and family are all gathered together. A man walks up to the front and starts a speech.

"I just can't put all my feelings for her in a minute speech. How is this supposed to work?!", he panicked and Simon scoffs. "Just imaging what you really want her to hear. A few things you always wanted to say to her but never found the right time to.", he stated calm. Kyle and Johnny looked at him in disbelief. "That could actually work." - " That’s why I am yer best man..."

So, he stands up straight and starts his speech. Hands gripping tight on a little paper in his hands. Every word is heavy on his tongue, but he manages to push through and holds the tears back. "I never realized how lost I was in this world until I looked into your eyes. In those pretty eyes I found my home. And when I heard your voice for the first time, I heard my future. I committed myself completely and only to you, and I would do it again and again. Forever yours.", his voice goes quiet. Nobody of the guests would really understand his words, but you would. That is the only thing that matters. His heart is shattered into pieces as he places a ring down into the earth. A ring you was meant to wear. A ring he got long time ago because he was sure about it. Sure, about you.

"Yer lost mate.", Simon exhaled shocked while looking at the little box Johnny held out to him. "Why?" - "Ya know her for a month, went to yer first date like two ago and yer already got 'her a ring??" Johnny chuckled, his eyes lingering on the box. "I know she's the right one Lt. I just know." Simon only shook his head, but a soft smile was on his lips.

This was the moment all the people around him witnessed the second death of Johnny MacTavish. There was before you. A time Johnny can't remember at all. Because you changed it all for him. The time during your shared life was everything he ever wanted. Everything he never thought he could have. And somehow, he never thought there would be time after you but here you were. He always supposed he would leave way before you, but that wasn't the case. Here is he standing surrounded by people that love you, but nobody could understand what you meant to him. Nobody of them would understand the love he's holding for you. Nobody would understand that with your leaving you also took him with you.

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iblameashley · 7 days

Text

Crosshairs, Bullets and Affections

Military | Male | Gay

5,300 words Content: Alternate universe, longing, angst, cursing, injury / wounds, mention / depiction of blood, captivity / imprisonment, military level violence, mention of torture, gun violence, death, some German, poorly edited Gay Stuff, Love, Fluff

Inspiration for this fic

König | Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick | Kaz?

!!!SFW!!!

In the heat of battle, König saves the life of enemy soldier Gaz, leading to his capture and disavowal from KorTac. Struggling with his feelings, König faces suspicion and hostility from the 141. Assigned to integrate him, Gaz is put at the forefront of König's awkward attempts at romance, while Ghost and Soap watch from the sidelines. König asks himself the age old question, 'do you believe love can bloom even on a battlefield?'

Consequences

König sat in a surprisingly well-lit cell. The concrete walls and steel bars a clear reminder of the new reality he found himself in. The space felt cramped, but then again, Konig remembered that he's not an average sized man; his legs hanging over the small bed that he rested on.

Upon being brought to the one-four-one base, he was promptly stripped of all his tactical gear and tossed in this cell. Captain Price had been generous enough to allow Konig to keep his hood – a source of amusement for the rotation of guards – and was left to his long-sleeved shirt and pants. Though they had also taken his boots and replaced his with slippers, nothing that could be used as a weapon was left, but at least he was relatively warm and comfortable.

His eyes flickered to the calendar on the wall outside the cell. June sixteenth. Six month and - he had to think about it - four days since his confinement started.

Originally, Konig had been in earshot of some of the more creative suggestions from the members of the one-four-one relating to any information he had. Ghost, ever the pragmatic man, had advocated for a ruthless approach. He had argued that the Colonel was too seasoned to be susceptible to typical tactics, and suggested a tried and true method, according to him; jumper cables and a car battery.

Soap on the other hand, saw no value in interrogating Konig regardless. He saw the giant of a man as too big a threat to keep around and had instead suggested the use of some C4. Most of the team had assumed he was joking. They were really hoping he was joking, but his mate Gaz had been injured and emotions were running high.

Price however, understood the gravity of the situation and the delicate balance of power at play. He saw the value in Konig as an asset, and a chance to gain insight into the inner workings of a known military threat. Besides, Konig had saved Gaz's life on the battlefield, and that alone had piqued Prices interest in the man. Saving an enemy combatant and allowing yourself to be captured in the process? What the fuck had the man been thinking?

The cell door opened and snapped Konig out of his thoughts. His eyes wandered up to see Price standing there. He dragged a metal chair into the cell and the guard closed the door behind him, though stayed close; his hand on his holster, ready to make a move if Konig tired anything.

König's jaw clenched under his sniper hood as he met Prices gaze, his walls coming back up.

“I can't imagine this has been easy for you.” Price began, clearing his throat. He leaned back in the chair and crossed one leg over the other. He tried to appear relaxed by resting his hands on his knee.

“I've seen worse.” Konig fired back with feigned disregard, his accent thick and his voice raspy. “...Just another obstacle.”

Price nodded, he understood the position Konig was facing. “I understand your reluctance to speak to me -to anyone- since you were brought in, but I really need to understand what brought you here.”

Konig narrowed his eyes. Though Price couldn't see it, his lips were pressed into a thin line.

“I had my reasons.” He replied flatly. “Reasons that don't concern you.”

“I would argue that they concern me greatly, Colonel.” Price tapped at his knee, staring Konig down with curiosity. “You aided one of my men on the battlefield. Why?”

In a fleeting moment, König's eyes betrayed him, and a glimpse of vulnerability flicked between the two men.

Price raised a brow, noting the reaction and realizing there was much more to this than Konig was letting on.

“...You had the chance to run. You didn't.... and now, here you are.”

König's body tensed and he gripped at the think mattress below him. “Sometimes the cost of doing what's right is higher than we anticipate.” He replied.

“I wasn't aware KorTac knew what doing 'what's right' was.” Price said, the irony not entirely lost on him.

König sat there quietly, what was the point of replying to that particular comment?

Price let out a sigh, waving a hand apologetically.

“We don't have to be enemies, Colonel.”

“König.” König corrected.

“König.” Price smiled, “Help us, and I promise you, there will be a place for you in this task force.”

“We'll see.”

With that, the conversation had lapsed into silence. Knowing that König was unwilling to speak to him any further, Price stood up and grabbed the chair. The door to the cell opened and he left the holding area.

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Actions

Amidst the gunfire and explosions, König has spotted someone who shouldn't have been there. Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick. He'd recognize that man anywhere, though he would have noticed sooner, had the man been hanging upside down from a helicopter.

Somehow, the one-four-one had gotten involved in this particular conflict and now there were fights to be hand on two fronts.

It had happened quickly, as so many things do on the battlefield. Gaz had been stuck by enemy fire, a bullet tearing through his shoulder and sending him tumbling backwards. He landed hard on the ground and yelped out in pain.

König's instincts had kicked in before his brain could stop him, and he sprinted across the battlefield until he hovered over Gaz's prone form. He crouched down as gunfire whizzed past them, and he quickly assessed the extent of the injury.

Gaz was going to bleed out if nothing was done, so Konig grabbed the man like a sack of potatoes and hauled him to cover. He worked frantically to stem the bleeding, ripping the shirt to get a better view of the wound.

“That's my favourite shirt, mate...” Gaz had mumbled. He was too unfocused to realize who was tending to him.

“I will buy you a new one, gutaussehend.” König replied as he began to tend to the wound.

It wasn't pretty by any means, but it would do. The bleeding had been stopped, some fragments of the bullet removed and it was disinfected. König had used most of his gauze to bandage the area.

König had barely had a moment to sigh in relief when he felt a gun at the back of his head. “Move away from my mate, nice and slow you slag.” The gravelly British voice commanded him.

“Ja.” König nodded.

He moved with an impressive grace away from Gaz before slowly standing up; his hands raised in surrender.

Ghost kept his weapon trained on König as he peered down to Gaz. A mixture of shock and confusion washed over him as he saw that bandages wrapped around Gaz's arm.

“The fuck is this, mate?” Ghost grunted as he returned his full attention to König.

“I... I don't know.” It was honest. König's own mind was racing with questions about what he had just done. His heart was racing, and if it weren't for the sniper hood over his face, Ghost would have clearly seen the grimace adorning his face.

“Don't play fucking games with me. I should put a bullet in your fucking head...” Ghost snarled. His finger moved towards the trigger, but he thought better of it. Price and Soap were on the way, so there was no need to shoot the man dead. Yet. “Drop all your weapons nice and slow. And kick them away.” He commanded.

König complied and removed his pistols and combat knives, setting them gently down on the ground and kicking them out of reach one by one.

“Step back.” Ghost commanded him once more, flicking the barrel of his gun and Konig.

“Ja.” König nodded.

He took a step back. And then another until he was several feet away from Ghost, Gaz and his weapons. Ghost would have plenty of time to shoot him if he made any stupid moves.

“He will be okay if he gets proper treatment.” König explained calmly to Ghost. He was trying to diffuse the situation as best he could.

“Didn't ask your opinion, slag. Keep quiet.” Ghost hissed, though his attention was split between König and Gaz who was passed out and breathing a bit heavy.

It felt like hours had passed before Price and Soap finally made their way to Ghosts location.

“Steamin' Jesus!” Soap exclaimed as he came to an abrupt halt. He took in the scene with shock and awe.

“Guten tag.” König said a bit more cheerfully than a man with a gun aimed at him should have.

“The fuck happened here?” Price questioned Ghost as he pulled up behind Soap.

“Our German friend here wanted to play medic with out Sergeant.” Ghost nodded in Gaz's direction.

Price moved to Gaz to inspect his situation and Soap pulled his firearm and aimed it at König.

“I got yer back, LT.” Soap reassured Ghost. “I think yer the best man tae cuff the bastard.”

With that, Ghost roughly bound König's hands, his gaze lingering on the captive soldier with a mix of distrust and disdain. As they made their way to the exfil location.

The same question was on everyone's mind; “Why had an enemy soldier helped one of their own?” Not that that question would be answered anytime soon. Even as König was loaded onto the helo, he simply stared into the abyss of uncertainty.

“Scheiße” König cursed himself silently. He knew he had fucked up, but there was something that pulled at his heart, knowing that Gaz would be okay. Though he probably couldn't say the same for himself.

Feelings

It was early in the morning when the lights flickered on and illuminated the cell, stirring König from his uncomfortable slumber. He muttered something in German, his voice tinged with annoyance until he saw Gaz standing outside his cell.

He swallowed hard and sat up on the cot. “Guten tag, Sergeant.” He croaked out.

König yawned as he leaned back against the cold concrete wall.

“Gaz. Just Gaz is fine.” Gaz advised as the door to the cell opened.

He entered slowly, and like Price had, dragged a metal chair in with him. His presence seems to fill the room with warmth. König's heart fluttered, and he began to fidget as he tried to hold Gaz's gaze.

“How are you holding up?” Gaz asked as he made himself comfortable.

“It is a holding cell, so it holds me well.” König joked. Attempted to joke. He wanted to hang himself as the stupidity of it washed over him.

Gaz chuckled and shook his head. “Okay, then...”

König's throat was dry as he struggled to find his voice a second time. His fingers seemed to dance on his knees as he gathered his thoughts.

“I am... fine.” He finally replied with a faint shrug. “Trying to make the best of this situation.”

Gaze smiled at him and nodded. “I can imagine you've been a bit bored being cooped up in here all these months.” His voice, his accent was smooth as it wormed its way into König's ear. “But you're still alive and in one piece.”

König's eyes fell to Gaz's shoulder. His arm was no longer in a sling like he has seen a few months back, and he must be healed by now.

“As are you.” He replied nervously.

“Mmm.” Gaz nodded again. “Because of you, I kept my arm and my life.”

There was an unspoken hint of gratitude to Gaz's words, but he was a bit too prideful to outright say the words 'thank you', at least right now.

“Still going through physical therapy. Still can't aim straight with it, but I'm getting there.” His jaw clenched shut and his brow furrowed as he wondered why he had admitted that to König.

“You will recover. You are still young and strong.” König smiled under his hood, he eyes softening as he spoke.

König couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him. He didn't understand this attachment he felt towards Gaz, but he knew it was dangerous for a few reasons. Aside from the fact that he had never felt this way about another man, if he allowed himself to explore these feelings, he'd solidify his desertion.

But as he looked into Gaz's pretty brown eyes -only slightly more enticing than his pretty lips- he could help but let a flicker of hope course through him.

“There... was one other reason I stopped by...” Gaz mentioned in a casual tone, though his eyes were downcast as he said it.

“Hmm?” König tilted his head like a puppy. “Tell me, mein freund.”

Gaz hesitated for a moment, but quickly decided it was best to just be honest. “You've been disavowed.” He spoke the words slow and calmly. “Since the one-four-one never made any demands to exchange you for anyone or anything, and because you were seen willingly helping me, and surrendering to Ghost, KorTac has officially cut their losses with you. We received the news last night.” Gaz explained.

König's heart sank like a stone into the cold depths of the ocean. 'Disavowed'. The word echoed in his mind. All because he had done what he had thought was right.

He shook his head. No, this was all his fault for sure. He had helped the enemy, of course he was disavowed. He was a traitor, and he would have done the same to anyone else on his team.

He grappled with the thought of never seeing Austria again. His friends or family. Everything about his life now lay shattered at his feet, an a storm of emotions began to rage within him.

“I understand.” Was all he managed to mutter out.

And that was that. The conversation was over and Gaz knew it. So with a nod of his head he got up and left König to his thoughts.

Decisions

There was no choice but to start integrating König into the one-four-one. Well, Ghost had vehemently opposed the idea, stating that König could never be trusted. Price had understood the concern, but also wasn't planning on sending König on missions anytime soon, let alone giving him access to restricted areas or information. Soap had also voiced his concern; first in Scottish Gaelic and then in English.

“I don't fuckin' trust him, Price.” Ghost voiced his disapproval once again.

Price rubbed at the bridge of his nose, clearly exasperated by this circular conversation.

“I understand your concerns, Ghost, but we need to make use of him--”

“It just doesn't sit right with us.” Soap interjected.

That was the last straw for Price. It had been two weeks of this conversation happening again and again, and now his own subordinate was cutting him off mid sentence.

Price was a patient man, and more than happy to entertain the thoughts and concerns of them men under him, but enough was enough.

He stood up from his chair and placed his hands on his desk. He took a deep breath and glared at both men.

“Listen to me very carefully.” His voice was low and seething with rage. “If either of you twats bring this subject up again, or if you ever interrupt me again, I will kick your asses out of the one-four-one. Now, the next thing I better hear from either of your mouths is 'yes sir' before you leave my office and fuck off. Do you understand me?” He hissed.

There was no room for black and white in Prices words, the look in his eyes conveyed his seriousness about the situation, and Ghost of all people knew how fucked he'd be without his job on the task force or Price to have his back.

Ghost and Soap nodded. “Yes sir.”

They promptly left Prices office.

Gaz had been sitting off to the side reviewing some documents as this exchange occurred. To be fair, Ghost and Soap had burst into the room uninvited, and Gaz had been working with Price at that time. He had felt no need to stand or engage as Prices limit had been reached.

And now, he sat there flipping through pages with a smirk on his face.

“Feel better, sir?” He chuckled as Price straightened himself out and took his seat again.

“Fuck off, Kyle.” Price gave him the side eye, but even his beard and tone couldn't hide the amusement.

“I have a job for you.” Price said after a long moment of silence. He reached into a box and retrieved a cigar. He took his time lighting it and enjoyed several long puffs before he continued. “This is a delicate situation, but I believe König has potential beyond information.”

Gaz's brow furrowed slightly, concern crossing his face as he processed Prices words.

“The man has been here what, seven months now? Almost eight? He hasn't once tried to make an escape, and he's been even more docile since you gave him the 'bad news' as it were.” Price puffed on. “I say we give him a real chance, and if he fucks up, we put a bullet in his head.”

Price shrugged and tapped some ashes into a nearby tray.

“I want you to take point on this, Gaz. He seems to like you, so might be easier for you to help integrate him into the force. Obviously I want you to keep a close eye on him, and you won't be alone, but you'll be in charge.”

Gaz's jaw clenched. He took his time thinking about it, but figured he would agree without protest. This was an opportunity to learn why König had helped him all those months ago. And he couldn't deny the joy he would take in superseding even Ghosts authority on this 'project'.

“What I say goes?” Gaz asked. “Outside of your final decision, that is?” He clarified.

“Your say goes.”

“Consider it done, sir.” Gaz agreed. “When do I begin.”

“Now. Why not take out lumbering German to the mess for some lunch.” Price laughed before taking a drag from the cigar.

“...yes sir.”

Targets

König stood at the firing range stall waiting for Gaz. His nerves were frayed to say the least as he looked around the room to see Ghost and Soap off in the distance; glaring and judging him. Ghost had a hand on his pistol, still ready to put him down at a moments notice.

“Alright, big guy...” Gaz's words snapped Konig out of his daze and he looked down at the man. Into those big, brown eyes. “Let's see what ya' got, yeah?” He beamed.

König nodded and swallowed hard. He wanted to do right by the one-four-one, he wanted to earn the trust of this whole team, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't want to impress the handsome young man handing over a rifle to him.

König took the rifle and stepped into the stall -which was way too small for him- and, in an attempt to break the tension decided to tell Gaz a joke.

“Hey, Gaz...” König began, already grinning under his hood, “why did the soldier bring a ladder to training?” He asked as he inspected the weapon.

Gaz gave König a quizzical look and tilted his head slightly as he thought about it.

“No idea, why?” He finally asked.

“To reach new heights!”

There was a deafening silence in the range as Gaz, Ghost and Soap processed the joke. The moment only broke by Ghost snorting in reply and looking away.

“Fuckin hell... that was bad...” He murmured as his shoulders shook.

“That's... certainly a new one.” Gaz replied to König, trying to distract the man from Ghosts reaction. He cleared his throat and extended a hand to guide König to the targets down the range, “Alright, lets focus on the targets now.”

König felt his cheeks redden with embarrassment, but he couldn't help it, his heart fluttered when Gaz was around. Without another word, he turned to the targets and readied his rifle.

Pop, pop, pop.

He fired several rounds from the first rifle and his targets. Several head shots and a few straight through the heart.

Next up was a pistol. He was equally skilled with that.

Gaz recognized his skill, and had read in his file that König had always wanted to be a sniper, so he decided 'what the hell' and wanted to give the man a chance. As he guided König to the sniper range -with their shadows in tow- the giant spoke up once more.

“Why did the soldier cross the road?” He asked, smirking like an idiot under his hood.

“I dunno, mate,” Gaz shrugged, already shaking his head. “Why?”

“To get to your side.”

“Christ...” Ghost sighed.

Gaz legitimately laughed at the joke and gave König a pat on the back. “If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to sweet-talk me.”

“This is painful.” Soap whispered to Ghost as they finally made it to the sniping range.

“Mmm. But entertaining in its own way.” Ghost replied as the two men watched Gaz and König set up.

“Just take your time, mate.” Gaz reassured him as he stepped away and left Konig to his practice.

Sniping is a game of patience, and König had been denied his sniping career for two reasons. The first was his size; he made a better battering ram than a sniper, and the second was his need to fidget when bored. But he was determined to prove to Gaz he had what it took.

He took aim and steadied his breathing. His hands were steady and after judging the distance, he fired.

“Fuck...” he hissed under his breath. He had hit the target, but not where he had wanted.

He aimed again. He focused. He fired.

“Der mist!” He grumbled a bit louder this time.

He took one last shot and at least his something vital on the target.

With a resigned sigh, he put the safety back on and moved himself into a sitting position on the floor as the target came swooping in for Gaz's examination; and Ghosts whispered ridicule.

Gaz took time to examine the target, and was overall impressed with König's shots. Only one would have likely been fatal, had it been a person, but the other two could certainly be crippling to an enemy combatant.

“Not bad, not bad.” He nodded as he looked down to König. “Guess we'll just need to set up some more practice time for you.”

König's mood perked up at the idea of spending more time with Gaz and quickly stood up, towering over Gaz in the small box of the sniping range. “Ja, I would like that!” He exclaimed.

He looked over to Ghost and Soap and and then back at Gaz, lowering his voice. “Hey Gaz, what would be your perfect date?” He asked.

Without missing a beat, Gaz grinned and replied, “April twenty-fifth, its not too hot, not too cold, all you need is a light jacket.”

He was so fucking proud of this reply, and loved watching the gears turn in König's head.

The dumbfounded look in König's eyes tipped Soap over the edge and he buried his face in Ghosts arm, snickering at the custerfuck that was this interaction.

“O-oh... okay.” Konig replied still confused.

He handed over the sniper rifle and turned to leave the booth, in a bit of a hurry at that, and slammed his head into the top of the door frame as he attempted to re-enter the base.

“Gottverdammt!” He yelled, felling the rage build inside him. He had fucked up his sniper practice, Gaz wasn't into him, Ghost and Soap were making a mockery of everything and now his head was hurting like a motherfucker.

“You alright there, big guy?” Gaz asked in a soft, sincere voice. He placed a hand on König's arm and turned him around. He could easily tell what König was feeling.

“Yeah...” König grunted, rubbing his head. He took a moment to breath and calm himself down before continuing. “Gotta watch out for door frames, they sneak up on you...” he tried to downplay the embarrassment. “Well... maybe not you...” He added in a deadpanned tone.

Gaz let out a deep laugh, not realizing that König hadn't been joking, just stating a fact.

“Aye, Gaz here is a shorty.” I Soap joked as he and Ghost moved past the two and entered the base.

“Hey, Soap... get fucked.” Gaz laughed.

“I wouldn't talk, mate... you're shorter than Gaz.” Ghost reminded Soap before giving one last glare at König. The meaning was clear; fuck with or hurt Gaz and Ghost would ensure König disappeared without a trace.

“Fuck, never thought I'd see a man flounder so hard. Big mans got it bad.” Soap remarked as he and Ghost made their way down the corridor.

“Better than anything on the telly, though.” Ghost reported. “Four pints says he completely blows it.” He added, staring down at Soap.

“Deal.” Soap grinned.

Secured

It was late in the afternoon, and the sun was starting its drop towards the horizon. Long shadows were cast over the ground as the ruins of of the enemy stronghold smouldered in just below. The task force was wrapping up a mission and were currently attempting to regroup back at exfil.

König had been brought along, but he had not been authorized to partake in the mission proper. Price had relegated him to extraction duty alongside two other soldiers.

There was an unsettling silence that washed over the land just after Soap had radioed in that the mission was complete and they were heading back. Maybe it was soldiers intuition, but König had a bad feeling.

Sure enough, and only moments later, the sound of gunfire echoed in the distance as Ghost, Soap and Gaz dashed from the foliage and into the open field.

Bullets whizzed by them as they ran, and they fired back sporadically as enemy soldiers burst through the cover of the trees.

“Give me a weapon.” König commanded one of his chaperones.

“Negative.” The man replied as he reached for his assault rifle. “You don't have authorization. Stand down and let us handle this.”

König wasn't asking.

Faster than the soldier could react, König slammed his hand into the mans throat, dropping him to the ground, gasping and panicking as he fought for air.

“I'm sorry mein freund.” He said as he walked away and unlatched the container that stored a sniper rifle.

He worked quickly to assemble the weapon, making sure to give it one last look before using his towering height to climb onto the roof of the truck. The other soldier finally noticed him, and the look König flashed him was warning enough. Do not try me.

The soldier nodded and returned his attention to his comrades charging in their direction.

König laid down on the roof and set up the rifle.

He licked his lips as he peered through the scope and acquired his first target. He flicked the safety off and calmed himself -as difficult as that was, seeing Gaz in danger again- before placing a finger over the trigger.

“That's it, maus... run into my trap.” He smirked as his finger pulled the trigger.

The rifle discharged with a sharp crack, the thunderous roar echoing across the landscape. It struck the target like a bolt of lightening dropping the man instantly.

“Pop.” König commented, proud of himself.

Several more booms erupted from the barrel as König took down enemy after enemy until his team was in the clear and there were no more soldiers pursuing them.

He flicked the safety back on and hopped down from the truck as Gaz, Soap and Ghost came to a halt.

“You weren't authorized to use that.” Ghost grunted, trying to suppress the need to catch his breath.

“Lay off the man, he saved our arses.” Soap huffed, punching Ghost in the side of the arm.

He walked past König and gave him a pat on the shoulder, “Thanks for the assist, chum.” He smiled.

König's eyes lit up with excitement as he turned his attention to Gaz. He extended his arms and walked with a confident swagger towards him.

“Mine freund!” He exclaimed as Gaz looked up at him, his chest still heaving and sweat dripping down his brow, “Did you see that! I got them all!” His voice boomed with pride.

Gaz just grinned and shook his head. “I can't say I saw it, but I knew you were helping us when the gunfire behind us stopped.” He joked as he took one last, deep breath. “You did good, König.”

The adrenaline was still coursing through his veins when out of nowhere he leaned down and wrapped his large arms around Gaz and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Thank you, liebling!” He was beaming under his hood.

He picked Gaz up off the ground and held him at face level.

“It's all thanks to you. It's all thanks to your trust in me.” König continued as he squeezed Gaz a bit tighter.

“Okay, okay!” Gaz laughed, patting König on the shoulder. “Put me down!”

“Nein!” König replied in a surprisingly playful tone.

Truth be told, he never wanted to let Gaz go. Fuck, he'd never have touched Gaz if it hadn't happened by impulse. That and Gaz smelled so goddamn good.

“Guys!” Gaz called out to Ghost and Soap, “Guys!” He called again with a huge grin on his face, “This dudes great, can we keep him?” He laughed loudly.

König was looking at Gaz with heart eyes, and it didn't go unnoticed by the man wrapped in his arms. How could it? He was wrapped in the mans arms!

“Make you a deal, big guy...” Gaz said in a quiet voice, slipping his hand under König's hood to ghost his fingers over the back of his neck. “Put me down, and you can take me out for a few drinks. Just the two of us. How's that sound?”

König's heart nearly gave out at the thought.

“A date?” König asked, needing desperately to know this wasn't just drinks between friends.

“A date.” Gaz confirmed with a confident nod.

“Ja.” König said as he lowered Gaz back down to the ground. “A date sounds wonderful, liebling.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Ghost yelled with a rage Gaz and Soap had last heard when a rookie tried to touch his mask. “Konig you walking Sequoia tree, what the fuck?!”

König's eyes widened. The soldier he attacked.

“Fuck.” He grunted, knowing he was about to face Ghosts wrath, and likely Prices when they got back to base.

Gaz bit his lower lip and shook his head. He gave König a slap on the ass and walked away, “Well have that date after you get out of solitary.” He winked at the large man and give him a finger gun.

König lowered his head and began his march to a probable death. “Es tut mir leid, Ghost!” He called out as he disappeared to the other side of the truck.

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