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gloomwitchwrites · 5 months

Note

for your tf141 imagines and prompts

“would you still love me if i was a worm?”

especially if it would be them asking or their partner.

soap is totally the kind of guy to ask his so this.

I've been giggling my ass off at this request (in the best way possible). I had so much fun writing quick little drabbles for each of them. Enjoy!

Find the Imagines & What If masterlist HERE

Content Warnings (MDNI): foul language, brief suggestive themes (on one)

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price:

“John?”

John glances up from the morning paper. The two of you sit outside in the garden. The sky is gray and cloudy.

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

John blinks. Frowns. “Would I still love you if you were a worm?”

“That’s right,” you reply.

John places his steaming mug of tea on the table beside him. Then, he folds up the paper, placing it in his lap.

“We have three kids together.”

“I know. But—”

John shakes his head. “Of course I’d still love you. What kind of bloody fucking question is that?”

John "Soap" MacTavish:

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

You sit up and laugh, disbelief in your tone. “What did you just ask me?”

John shrugs and then grins sheepishly. “If I was a worm, would you still love me?”

“Asking the important questions,” you reply, shaking your head.

“Always.” He rolls onto his stomach and rests his cheek on his fist. “Humor me.”

“I’d keep you in a little jar of dirt. Carry you around everywhere. Give you tiny kisses,” you say.

John nods. “Good answer.” He fishes out his phone. “I’m gonna ask Simon the same thing.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

“Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

You turn on your side, wiggling up to Simon’s side in the bed. He sits up with his back against the headboard. The silk sheets are tangled around his thighs, and he holds a pack of smokes in his hand.

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

Simon just stares.

“Would you—”

“I fucking heard you.” You watch him inhale. “A worm? A fucking worm?”

“Yes,” you say slowly.

“You fell apart on my tongue a bloody minute ago.”

“True.” You pause. “Does that mean—”

“Yes. Bloody fucking hell.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

“You’re having a laugh.”

“Answer the question.”

Kyle smiles behind his mug of English tea. “No.”

“Kyle!”

He shrugs and takes a sip. You place your hands on your hips. “I require an answer.”

Laughing softly, Kyle places his tea down on the counter behind him. He leans back casually, crossing his arms. He’s not wearing a shirt.

“You want an answer?” he asks.

“Yes. I do,” you reply.

Kyle huffs, a mischievous grin forming on his face. “I’d give you to Captain Price as fish bait.”

You point at him, stifling your own rising laughter. “How fucking dare you.”

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @pearljamislife @wrathofcats @keiva1000 @pertinentpostmortem @enfppixie @bbyfimmie @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82

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konigsblog · 3 months

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How much do you think soap would let the reader dominate?

cw: mentions of cuckolding.

soap doesn't mind allowing you to become dominant, but he prefers also having dominance, as well.

johnny will allow you to taunt and tease his orgasm, to drag it out and fuck with his mind, hyperventilating with his musky boxers shoved in his mouth and a blindfold over his wet, tear filled eyes. his body jerks and twitches with each gentle gesture you make with your hands, teasing and rubbing at his sensitive, wet tip, leaking down your fingertips and coating them in globs of his milky arousal.

he huffs and groans painfully, tears absorbed by the thick material of the blindfold, yet his cheeks flushed. feeling your hand glide down his thick, veiny shaft causes him to howl out through pleasure, body quivering and his hips rutting against your hand... :(

johnny is into being submissive and ridiculed, being a cuckold and watching his girlfriend get fucked, sucking off another man while maintaining eye contact with horny, perverted johnny...

#orla speaks #soap mactavish smut #soap mactavish fanfic #soap mactavish imagine #soap cod imagine #cod soap #soap cod smut #soap mwii smut #john soap mctavish #soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap x reader #soap x reader smut #soap mactavish x reader smut #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x you

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dmitriene · 1 month

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there's the thing that johnny wouldn't trade for anything else, and the thing is being next to you — wherever he is and no matter how far away, there is always a glimpse of you and your warmth in the edges of his thoughts, the vivid images that call him from the farthest corners of the planet, beckoning him back.

one step of his heavy army boots against the floor of the helo is enough for him to fidget in place for the rest of the way like a restless puppy, his azure eyes sparking with bright flashes even in the dark, foot nervously taps an indistinct rhythm on the floor, attracting the attention of his comrades.

and when they dare to ask through loud barks what makes him behave so unusually, he is not ashamed to say that he is in a hurry to return home — to his bonnie lass, to you.

you make him have a home, a place to which he hastens to return as to a temple — just as the helo land on the base, johnny scoots like a eager mutt, disappearing into the walls of the building to immediately wash off all the grime from his aching body and pick up a pre-assembled bag from his room.

the only thing he spends his time doing is cleaning himself up, he won't let himself cross the threshold of the house with fresh blood still on his hands and dirt on his body, even if he knows you don't mind, because you'll wash it and kiss it off him — johnny won't dare to stain you, nor your shared sanctuary.

and when johnny does return, he drops his bag near the entrance and quietly unties his boots up on the threshold of the house, moving further inside with a slow, quiet steps, taking in the air with a wide chest and looking around the dimly lit by the morning sun living room.

by the time he reaches the half open bedroom door, his body and mind feels fuzzy, wide palm absorbs the doorknob to push the door open fully, and johnny stills, because here you are.

with your softly illuminated body half covered by the blanket, with your lovely eyes opened groggily to greet him back with warmth, and love, wide open arms — in which johnny drowns.

fully and irrevocably, drowning in feather light and warm kisses, the most gentle touches of your hands that wrap around his body with trepidation — and he responds with the same boundless love, the same kisses and warmth, where together you form a cocoon, a safe harbor that contain just two of you.

and johnny will come to you everytime, to you, his mo chridhe.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.

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multific · 6 months

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Mine, Yours

Alpha!Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Omega!Reader

Alpha/Beta/Omega Universe

Warnings: swearing, oral, +18!!!

You felt his anger.

Your alpha was angry.

And you knew just exactly why. Graves thought it would be a fun prank to start flirting with you. While you were sitting right next to your mate!

Philip must have gone insane, you knew he liked to tease the boys but this was a new level.

But soon, he messed up very very badly.

When he said "I bet you I would be a better Alpha to you." it was over.

Everyone saw it coming when Johnny threw a punch at him. Graves didn't even have time to react as he fell backwards with his chair. Simon, who sat next to him just took another sip of his drink, unbothered.

"Say that again and I will make sure you will regret even being born!" Johnny was mad, you have never seen him so angry.

It both scared and turned you on.

Another punch was thrown at Graves because he said something you didn't hear. Your focus was now on Johnny.

You stood up, making everyone look at you.

"Let's go home." you said but Johnny didn't listen. You knew it was time for the big guns. "Alpha, please take me home." you said with your best submissive voice, and it finally worked.

It almost even made Simon stand up but he had to remind himself, you weren't his.

Johnny quickly scooped you up and ran out of the bar.

Simon also stood up, leaving Graves on the floor as he headed to the bar to ask for another Bourbon.

You heard Johnny mumbling something to himself, you understood a couple words such as, dickhead, asshole and something about a hole in his head.

But you knew better than to say a word.

You just let him carry you back home, rubbing his back to hopefully calm him a little.

Johnny had only one weakness, your Omega, you.

And although you were a strong woman, you also knew that Johnny liked the innocent type. He had a thing for protection, much like other alphas.

So, you often liked to play the part of damsel in distress.

You were convinced Johnny thought you were genuine during those moments, and you didn't want to burst his bubble. Plus, you very much enjoyed seeing him be so though and strong.

So, when you arrived home, and Johnny didn't want to let go of you, you knew that the curtains were up, it was your time to shine.

"You are mine! How dare he?!" his pupils were blown, and his eyes looked foggy, your Johnny was only a shadow of the Alpha in front of you at this moment.

"Alpha," your voice came out a lot softer than you anticipated. You felt a shiver running down his back as you looked at him and he watched you. "You protected me." he silently nodded. "Can I reward you?" he slightly tilted his head, not understanding.

But when you sank down to your knees, the fog lifted from his eyes and it became dark.

"Can I reward my Alpha for keeping me safe?"

Johnny quickly grabbed you and walked into the living room, he sat down on the couch and placed you in front of him, in between his legs.

He ran his thumb down your cheek and moved to your lips.

"Suck me, Omega." he said and you never felt more wet in your entire life.

You didn't need to be told twice, you were quick to undo his pants and get him naked.

He got rid of his shirt, while you remained fully clothed.

You had only one goal in mind and that was to please him.

It was so easy to do as well.

No matter what you did, he loved it.

He enjoyed everything you can possibly do. Even if you say you have done it wrong, he would tell you the opposite.

In his eyes, you can do no wrong.

Much like right now.

He kept on groaning and praising you as you tried your best to fit his length into your mouth.

"You don't have to fit all of it, Love. Yes...Yes just like that." he said as you worked your fingers on the part which you couldn't fit.

He smelled amazing, your alpha was truly a sight to behold. Especially when your eyes locked with his as you kept bobbing your head, your tongue flat against his length.

His eyes were filled with lust, you felt his hips jerk as you moved down once more, keeping your eye contact the entire time.

You knew he was about to come.

You want him to, you were ready for it.

You wanted to tell him that it was okay to come, if your mouth wouldn't have been full with his cock.

The only warning he gave before he exploded was that he grabbed the back of your head, fist full of your hair as he groaned loudly and pulled you forward.

You watched as he threw his head back against the couch and let go of your hair, you swallowed to remainder of his essence and allowed him to come down from his high.

You slowly stood up and he watched you with half-open eyes as you took off your dress and stepped out of your panties.

"Shower?" you asked and he simply nodded, you smiled at him as you tried to move out of his reach but he was faster.

He pulled your back against his front, his head in your neck as he growled.

"You are mine." he said in such a deep voice, you were already soaking wet.

He bit down on your shoulder a little bit as you felt his length harden against your back once more.

You were in for a long night.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

In case you want to help out a dreamer: patreon.com/multific

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

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inkbybambi · 6 months

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werewolf!soap that loves to watch his cum drip out of your ass in thick streams, your pussy fluttering and clenching around nothing when it drips down your folds. he loves your needy whines and whimpers, looking back at him with big, glassy doe-eyes, too fucked out and cockdrunk to ask for what you want. oh i know, pretty girl he coos as he uses his thumb to spread his cum all around your sensitive ring of muscle that he leisurely fucked for the last hour or so. you want more, don'tcha? and all you can do is nod and spread your legs further, arching your back and shamelessly presenting your cunt, wet and waiting. he uses his cock to tease your clit, rubbing up and down your slit. he gathers his spend on his cock, pushing deep into your cunt and groaning at the warmth, bending over your back with his teeth at your neck, telling you how pretty you'll look with his cum dripping out of you everywhere.

#ink by bambi #give werewolf soap pups please #wererwolf!soap #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x you #soap mactavish #soap mactavish imagine #soap mactavish smut #modern warfare imagine #modern warfare smut #soap modern warfare

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hellsfirekeepsyouwarm · 1 year

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"I Know a Place"

Hello my loves. After writing tons and tons of angst, my mind and heart needed a lighter happier story, so i just put this together. I just warmed up to Soap recently, and i thought i give it a go. Happy reading my Soap lovers.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Reader

Warnings: language, not proofread 'm sorry

Summary: Johnny finds you in the kitchen making breakfast, when the only thing he wants is you tangled up with him in bed all day.

Johnny has never seen a more beautiful thing that his eyes are witnessing right now. His eyelids still heavy from the deepest shuteye he ever had, your naked body pressed against his, complaining about your ice cold feet while pushing you closer to his skin. Mind a little foggy, the comfort of the bed screaming his name to get back under the duvet, but it through him out so quick when he met your side completely empty.

You were supposed to sleep in, having sloppy kisses, wandering his hands to places he couldn't touch for weeks, murmuring sweet nothings, hanging on your every word about life you lived without him while he was gone. It was always bittersweet. He admired how you ramble about everything you wanted to share, searching for his attention, checking if he's still as interested as half a minute ago.

Fuck he loved it. How your eyes lit up to his snarky comment on your asshole colleague, to his macho flirting and bad pickup lines. That light every damn time your eyes landed on him is what he's living and fighting for. Probably the one he will die for. That spark is imminent right at the moment you realize he's watching your every move doing the breakfast.

"Oh no, i wanted breakfast in bed." You pout, one eye on the bacon in the pan so you don't burn like the last time Johnny demanded you attention. Johnny chuckles, a bright pink blush creeping it's way to his cheeks. Gosh, you are the only one person on this planet who can do that. He's down bad for you, and he's not shy to admit it to anybody.

"As much as a bacon and eggs breakfast in bed is tempting, i wanted to be woken up with you by my side." He closes the distance between you with slow but big steps, eyes remaining on your face, looking for the familiar fluster he can cause, drinking it into his memory. He lefts no room for space, body pressed against you right away, chin resting on your shoulder, chest to your back, thighs locking your legs. You can feel every muscle in him, just the way you both like. Closer and closer.

"Smells good, darlin'" He murmurs next to your ear, leaving tingling kisses on your earlobe and neck. "When it's gon' be ready, hm? I'm hungry and we spent just about enough time out of bed."

His arms circling on your tummy and hips, pulling up his shirt that you wear, in an effort of satisfying the need of skin on skin contact all the time. He fills every missing piece, every sense that he can, even if it means you'll be eating burnt food. He won't have it, you aren't fixated on him and only him. He'll do anything to lure you away from your task at all cost. Sliding his hands to your breast, the other to your core, only grazing the sensitive part, to tease and earn that little sigh from your lips.

"MacTavish, give me a break cuz you'll eat dried cereal." He laugh into your hair, a sounds so magical your heart almost leaps out of your chest. You love his laugh like no other sounds existing.

"I had other plans for breakfast to be honest hun" He pushes you closer to his body, separating you from the oven, pulling you away delicately.

"No no no, Johnny, let me get this done. Please." He growls, easing his hold on you, but never letting go, slowly inching back to your food like two idiots attached at the hip. "Can you get me the plates love?" He groans not so pleased with leaving you for that 10 seconds he collects the plates. But he does, eyes always circling back to you.

"Coffee?" You nod towards the freshly brewed pot, signaling him to fill the two cups in front of it. He knows what you are doing, giving him random task so his hands are occupied with something else than your body. In the meantime you proceed to fill the plates with delish food, in quite a hurry to get it done before he's pressed against you again. You swear this man is insatiable if it comes to you.

Just about when you see him move towards you, you poke your finger at him. "Uh-uh! Sit down big boy!"

It's so funny how abruptly he stops in his tracks, a half smile playing on his lips. The cheeky bastard. But he does as you say so, eager to have his food, and you next to him. He brings the mugs with him, while do the same with your breakfast neatly placed in front of him, sided by toasts. You sit down next to him, close, but not close enough for him. He grins widely at you, grabbing your chair and dragging you close to his own seat. "Now that's much betta"

You just giggle, seeing him happy and healthy, devouring every bit of the meal, chugging the hot plain black coffee with it. You often wonder how he can be so gentle and firm at the same time. You see the urgency in his moves, something he cannot unlearn, but he does it delicately. He couldn't deny the soldier in him if he would have wanted to.

He hums with a full mouth, one hand with the fork other hand on the back of your neck. Keeping close as always.

"You are unbelievable, just eat." You giggle when leans over to give you the nastiest bacon kiss, trying to smudge the oil from it all over your face. "You love it." Yeah you do.

"Eat slower, otherwise you won't have space for dessert." His head perks up from his last bite, looking like a kid at Christmas morning.

"Dessert? What kind of dessert?" He asks, chewing on bacon, wiping his mouth in a kitchen rug, and his attention is on you right away.

"You have to see and wait." You aren't even finished with half of you dish, and you are sure you won't have the chance to consume it. Johnny turns his whole body towards you, leg hooked on your chair, hands all over you, honestly he couldn't be any closer than this.

"Nah, you don't get to tease me like that." He literally pulls the fork out of your mouth, half of your bite hanging on it, and the other half between your teeth.

"Johnny, kmuuun" He just laughs into your neck, tingling you with his nose running up and down the delicate skin. Pinching his face with your shoulder is just making it worse because now his lips are stuck on that freaking spot he finds so quick. The food dies on your tongue, grateful for not choking on the egg because of the attack Johnny is waging against you. You decide there is no point of forcing this breakfast thing. His wet lips are too apparent and demanding, distracting your every thought.

His gentle pecks and playful licks with a giddy laugh turns into passionate kisses alongside your jaw, hot air fanning you where his nose tracks your skin. He consumes the space around you, leaving no room for anything else, just him. His touch switching between gentle presses from an iron grip, his tiny growls and hums of agreement when you position yourself for him to access more of you. And when he praises you when your sweet moans escapes your mouth next to his ear, oh my god that's the end of you.

"That's my girl, do it for me again." He doesn't have to ask again, the press of his palms on your inner thigh is enough for you to melt in his hands.

"Enough playing around, kiss me already." You breath out, clutching onto his hair, holding into the back his neck for dear life.

"Yes m'am" You see his grin with heavy eyelids, shutting automatically by his soft lips, tongue slipping right next to your not waiting for a second. Always fast forward when it comes o the real thing. He likes to tease and play, but this, when you come to this part he never taunts you. He gives and takes equally, searching for the relief of his needs pulling you with it.

His hands slides up to your face, slowly turning the heat down, slowing down in a steady pace, to calm you or to calm him you don't know, sadly it doesn't get easy. You want more, so lean in for more, to push for more.

"As much as i want to continue this, we are so fuckin tangled on this chair i can't feel my legs." You laugh loudly, the burning in you calming a little.

"What are suggesting Sergeant?" You ask with an eyebrow raised. He stands up, so clumsy you wouldn't recognize the hardly shaped military man in him. It's almost comical to see this hunk of a man trying to pull his legs out of the chair's leg still holding into you.

"I know a place" His eyes smile with his lips, a rare sight you cherish so much. He pulls you up soon after he untangled his limbs, pressing you against his chest. "It's soft, padded with warm blankets and pillows, perfect for our type of activities." His accent pops off at the last word, a slight tremble running through you by his low tone.

"Then show me this place." You whisper into his mouth as you peck his lips right before he pick you up in his hands carrying you into that special place of your bedroom.

#johnny soap mactavish imagine #soap mactavish imagine #soap mactavish x reader #johhny soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish imagine

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makethatelevenrings · 1 year

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Soap returns home a few days before valentines and has badly injured his dominant arm. Reader assures him that taking care of him is more important than valentines plans. Reader finds him one day struggling to put on a nice shirt and Soap admits he made some last minute dinner reservation and bashfully admits he needs help with his shirt and driving. Bonus if reader helps him shave.

changed a few things up, but I hope you enjoy!

gets a little suggestive at the end so minors beware, but nothing outright explicit

“Christ almighty, MacTavish, you fecking bawbag.”

You snickered at the sound of your boyfriend’s insults and leaned against the doorframe to watch him fail miserably at buttoning up his shirt with his right arm in a plaster cast from wrist to bicep.

“Need some help?”

He swore again and nearly jumped out of his skin. Soap turned around and winced at the sight of you standing there. You crossed your arms over your chest and raised your brow in question. He knew he was supposed to be resting on the couch while you ran out to get him more painkillers and some of those candy hearts that tasted like chalk yet he loved them. So when you came back to find the couch vacated and grunts coming from the bedroom, you decided to investigate.

Soap came back from his latest mission in relatively one piece. Simon had dropped him off at your door like a kitten lost in the rain, a cast on one arm and his bag hung off the other. You became a mother hen and fretted over him, assuring him that his only job now was to rest and let you take care of everything.

So pray tell, why was he standing in your bedroom with a button down shirt hanging off his shoulders and boxers covering his ass?

“It’s not what you think,” he blurted out. Your other eyebrow raised and he waved a hand as if dismissing his own words from the air. “Okay, it’s exactly what you think. It’s Valentine’s day and I made these reservations months ago at that one rich place everyone’s been talkin’ about. Not gonna let a stupid feckin’ arm stop me.”

“John MacTavish,” you boomed. He looked completely bashful and hung his head. His mohawk was growing out and you made a mental note to trim that tomorrow. “You’re a right idiot, but you’re a sap.”

You pushed away from the doorframe and crossed the room so you could stand in front of him. Settling your hands on his hips, you pushed yourself up on your toes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“Thank you for thinking of me, Johnny, but I don’t need fancy dinner reservations and you know that.”

He pressed his forehead against yours and sighed. “I’m gone all the time, hen. I get the call and then I’m gone. It’s not fair to you, eh? And then the one time I try to do something, my own damn self gets in the way. It’s not fair, that’s what it is. You deserve better than this.”

Oh, your sweet boy. He always beat himself up for not being the “perfect” man or whatever the fuck that meant. For all you were concerned, he was more than perfect. You cupped his cheek and slid your thumb across his lips. His tongue darted out, flickering against the pad of your thumb and you smiled softly.

“Soap MacTavish, I better not hear you ever say that again,” you murmured. “Because the only thing I need this Valentine’s Day is you, here, with me and safe. That’s all I care about, yeah? So, why don’t you get back into those sweats while I order some dinner from that Thai place down the street. Then we’ll watch some Derry Girls, hmm? And after that…”

You leaned forward, your teeth enclosing around his bottom lip and tugging him into a bruising kiss. Soap groaned at the sweet taste of your mouth against his and his good arm slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You grinned into the kiss, your hand drifting down to cup his ass and you gave him a quick squeeze.

“Well,” you breathed once you pulled away. “If you only have one working arm, then I guess I better help you out with that little problem.”

Your thigh pressed against the bulge at the front of his pants before you slipped away with a wink thrown over your shoulder. The second you stepped out of the bedroom, you heard him scramble to change back into his comfy clothes, muttering under his breath.

If he thought he wasn’t a good boyfriend then…yer aff yer heid, MacTavish.

#soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish imagine #cod imagine #mw2 imagine #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish imagine #cod mw2 #valentine’s day series

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mlmxreader · 5 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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babybatgrimm · 1 year

Text

Seven Minutes in Heaven | Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish X Military!Reader

Summary: A trip to the bar then back to base ends with the team playing teenage sleepover games.

Reader call sign Ryōshi, Japanese for Hunter

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, SMUT, Fem!Reader, grinding/thigh riding, praise kink, p in v sex, creampie, agoraphilia (sex in public places), overstimulation,

A/N: Spicy oneshot~

The night had come and gone. Starting in a dull mood after a mission gone against plan, and ending with eruptions of intoxicated laughter. The evening drawing out into the wee hours of the morning.

Throughout the evening, as the warmth spread through his extremities, Soap found himself stealing glances and smiles from Ryōshi. She hadn't been with the team long, only two years, compared to the rest of them. Despite that, she got on amazingly well with the team, quickly bonding with them all.

She did however, take a particular liking to Soap. Of the team, she'd spent the most time with him outside and during deployment. Often, they'd go to a pub like tonight, or they'd just sit in one of their rooms and talk, or Ryōshi beats Soap at Mario Kart.

The group, having heard a suggestion for playing uno (not that they will remember who by the next day) all decided the base was the best location for their shenanigans. And so, after they all stumble their way back to base, Soap sticking a little too close to Ryōshi.

Soap wasn't sure how he'd gotten into this situation. He was still buzzed, but had sobered up when he and Ryōshi got shoved into a closet. The team, in their drunken wisdom, had decided to play a bunch of games. It started with the Uno, then became Crazy Eights, then Go Fish, next was Never Have I Ever, followed by spin the bottle, eventually landing on seven minutes in heaven.

Soap had spun the bottle, which stopped pointing at Ryōshi. The group let out a chorus of "Ooooohh~" before promptly shoving the pair into the closet. Soap wasn't sure how long they'd been inside, but it was definitely longer than seven minutes by now. He shuffled awkwardly, trying not to touch Ryōshi as she fidgeted in front of him.

"They could've chosen a better closet." She states bluntly, frustrated by the situation they're stuck in. Eventually, Ryōshi manages to reach the door handle, twist it, and- "Locked. Of course they did." She grumbles, sighing and leaning her head back against the wall.

Soap groans at the discovery, feeling his face heat as he examines her figure, taking note of every curve his eyes drag over. Feeling his pants tighten as he sees her shirt has ridden up, exposing her midriff, along with every scar and muscle that decorates it.

"I suppose we have to get comfy with each other till someone comes looking for us or we find a way out." She sighs, looking up at him, feeling her own face heat as she finally notices the small distance between their faces. Soap clears his throat after a moment of the two staring at each other.

"I suppose we do, but... I don't know how we could without you... Being on me." He struggles the last part, his face heating further, his ears burning as he stares down at her.

"Well... I wouldn't be opposed to it..." She replies quietly in the small space, her eyes darting away from his for a moment. Soap's eyes burn into her, flicking to her lips for a moment before he thinks about what he's doing.

In a hasty motion, he crashes his lips into hers, pressing her back against the wall behind her. His hands move to grab her waist, grasping for purchase as her arms wrap around his neck.

Soap is quick to move, peppering her neck with kisses, slotting his thigh between hers. As he presses his thigh up he lifts her off the ground, pushing her up the wall to be almost level with him. The motion pulls a soft moan from her lips, quiet beside his ear, but lights a fire in his chest all the same.

He leans into the wall with his knee, pinning his leg in place and using his grip on her waist to grind her into his thigh. He's gentle at first, slow ruts up and down his thigh, pulling soft pants and mewls from Ryōshi.

Eventually though, he gets impatient. His hunger for her too great for him to force down. His grip tightens, grinding her harder and faster against his thigh until she's moaning and panting softly in the quiet room.

Soap takes small nips and nibbles at her neck, sucking soft hickeys into her skin, scattering them up and down her neck, chest and shoulders. He pulls his head away, leaning back to observe her as he grinds her into his thigh.

"Fu~ck lass, you look devine.~" He growls, his voice gravelly and lustful as he watches her expression contort in pleasure. Until he stops moving her hips, making her whine in frustration. "I can't wait any longer, bonny." One hand moves to his belt, undoing it and letting it fall to the side before undoing his pants.

Ryōshi bites her lip, following suit with her own belt. Soap let's her drop to the floor, grabbing her hips and spinning her to face the wall. He yanks her cargo pants down, giving her lace covered ass a smack before pulling her panties down to meet her pants.

"Waited so long for you to let me have you, lass." He growls into her ear, leaning over her and pressing his chest to her back. The bulge in his underwear perfectly lined up against her heat, pulling mewls and pants from her lips as he grinds into her.

Ryōshi bites her lip at the feeling, attempting to muffle her moans. Soap leans back once more, grinding harder into her and forcing a louder moan from her lips before a whine as he stops and pulls himself off her.

She hears shuffling behind her before she gasps, which quickly turns into a moan as she feels his tongue run between her folds. His arms wrap under her hips, hands resting on her ass and pulling her closer to his face as he laps at her clit.

Ryōshi's eyes shut as her moans grow, putting her palms flat against the wall to brace herself as Soap suckles on her clit. His nose is buried in her folds as he kneels on the floor, seemingly very comfortable where he is.

His grip around her hips tightens as her legs begin to shake, smirking as he increases speed, drawing louder, higher pitched moans from Ryōshi as her eyes squeeze shut. With a few harder suckles on her clit, she hits her climax, her thighs trying to close but Soap keeps them apart with his biceps. He rides out her orgasm, lapping at every drop she gives him and gently suckling on her clit.

Her breath is laboured as she comes down from her high, her legs still shaking as she leans into the wall. She hears shuffling behind her once more before feeling warm breath against her neck. "You taste like my last meal~" He purrs.

Ryōshi gasps slightly as she feels the head of his cock rub against her folds, her sensitive clit making her clench around nothing whenever he rubs against it. "Tell me, sweets, do you want me to fuck you nice, or hard?" He asks with another smack on her ass.

She whimpers and whines at the impact. "Don't be gentle, Johnny~" she begs, still panting softly. Her words and his name ignite a primal fire inside him. He slips the head of his cock inside her, groaning at the tightness.

With one, slow, smooth trust, he buries his cock to the hilt inside her, letting out a groaned moan as she engulfs his member. She lets out a moan, shutting her eyes as she adjusts to his size, small tears sparkling in her waterline before she relaxes around him.

As soon as she relaxes, he begins trusting into her. Following her request, his thrusts clap with each impact of his hips against her ass. Her moans, his grunts, the smacking of skin, and wet squelching filled the tiny room.

The slick from her first orgasm made it all too easy for Soap to move faster. Like a dog in heat, Soap grabs both Ryōshi's hips, using the leverage to force himself harder into her. "F-fuck sorry lass, you're so t-tight, gonna cum, gotta pull out!" He groans, hunching over as he pants.

Ryōshi shakes her head hastily. "N-no! P-please don't! Cum in me, Johnny!" She pleads, leaning her head back and moaning loudly. The primal fire burns brighter at her request, and who is he to deny her when he's finally got the chance to make her feel good?

Soap can only nod, his focus flooding to chasing his high. He leans forward, his forehead pressing against the nape of her neck and pulling louder moans from the pair of them with the new angle.

Moments later, Soap finally meets his climax, a loud groan leaving his chest as he paints her walls white. She moans at the feeling, expecting him to pull out. She was wrong.

Instead, Soap stays hard, his thrusts unwavering as he wraps his arms around her lower chest, under her breasts and using the hold to force her hard into the wall with each thrust.

Ryōshi moans in bliss, her legs shaking with overstimulation. If it weren't for Soap holding her steady, would have already buckled beneath her. Each thrust into her pulls a grunt from Soap, groaning into her shoulders as he picks up his pace.

Between her overstimulation and Soap rutting into her at an ungodly pace, Ryōshi is quick to reach another orgasm. Her walls squeeze his cock, making him moan and groan.

"Fuck, fuck, fu~ck~" Soap moans, pumping a second load into her, but his thrusts are still unwavering. His cum and saliva mix with her slick, forming a sticky concoction that leaks out of her.

It would be a sight to behold if someone were to open the door. Soap, pants pulled down to his knees, both arms around Ryōshi's chest, cock buried deep inside her weeping hole, and rutting into his teammate like there's no tomorrow.

And Ryōshi. Cheek, palms and chest pressed against the wall, blissfully moaning as Soap thrusts in and out of her, her slick dripping down her thighs and sticking to his hips, making various strings of lewd web connecting her ass and his hips that spreads with each impact.

The constant friction of Soap's determined thrusts bring Ryōshi to climax once more, a blissful shout leaving her lips as she tosses her head back. Feeling her walls tighten down around him again, Soap groans in ecstasy, thrusting a few more times before he pours a third load into her.

With that, Soap's thrusts finally waver, his arms sliding down to hold around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. Ryōshi gasps for breath, still coming down from her high, looking back at Soap over her shoulder, her own fucked out gaze meeting his desperate eyes.

He stares back at her in a lustful daze for a moment before suddenly pulling out, making Ryōshi whine at the loss of friction. "I wannae see that pretty face, lass." He says huskily, whipping her around and pressing her back against the wall.

Ryōshi gasps at the contact of the cold stone, locking eyes with Soap before he moves toward her, crashing their lips together once more. With ease Soap wraps his arms under her legs, lifting her up so her thighs are against her torso. Letting her drop so her knees rest over his biceps as he cups her ass, taking a firm grasp.

In a swift motion, Soap thrusts back inside her and returns to a quick pace. Their moans quickly returned in volume, the sloppy, smacking sound of Soap rutting into her growing louder than before with his harsh impacts.

The new angle he's given himself allowing him to push deeper inside her, groaning and panting in desperation, his eyes squeezing shut as he focuses on holding off his own high. He locks eyes with her, watching her eyes as they flutter and roll around her head.

"C'mon bonny, let me see that pretty face~" His voice is gravely and low, his hands gripping hard on the tops of her thighs. "I wannae see the look on your face when you cum for me~"

Her eyes roll as she leans her head back on the wall, her back arching with a loud moan, one hand gripping onto his shoulder, the other tangling and grasping at his hair. Soap moves just a little faster, as fast as he can, his thrusts faltering slightly as he chases her high.

Soap's eyes don't leave her face for a moment, taking in every contorted detail and high pitched moan, committing the experience to memory. Ryōshi's eyes prick with small tears, her overstimulation making her legs shake and her hole quiver around him with every movement against her every sweet spot.

Her climax hits hard, her walls tightening down around him once last time, her grip tightening on his hair and shoulder. Her grip leaves scratch marks in his skin, breaking the skin in some places, while her other hand tugs on his hair for some semblance of grounding.

"F-fu~ck lass!~" Soap groans, releasing one last load inside her, leaning his head down to rest his forehead against hers, his thrusts slowing to a gentle pace, pumping the last of his load into her. Their breath mixes in the air between them, panting and soft moans spilling from them both as they come down from their highs.

After a few moments, Soap pulls out and gently puts her back on the ground, holding her steady as her legs wobble. She giggles and looks up at him. "I wasn't expecting such... Ferocity, from you Soap." She teases as she starts to fix her clothes.

Soap chuckles, his face heating once more, fixing his own clothes as he replies. "I did ask if you wanted Nice or Hard." He points out with a smirk. She giggles again, smirking back at him.

"maybe next time I'll ask for the nice~" she purrs, moving to the door and seeing if she can undo the lock. Soap watches her, studying her movements and watching as she forces the lock past it's tension point and popping it open.

The sound of the door clicking open also clicked together something in his mind. "Wait... Next time?" He asks in puzzled excitement before promptly following her.

He can't help the sense of pride as he watches her walk, her legs wobbling with a slight stumble as he follows her to wherever she's going.

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gloomwitchwrites · 21 days

Text

Break Up with Your Toxic Boyfriend (Bonus)

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Find ALL the Break Up with Your Toxic Boyfriend Fics HERE

This bonus material is brought to you by @darkangel4121 (who wanted to see the toxic boyfriends get what they deserve)

I took some liberties with the prompt since I wanted to keep them short. There are two drabbles (100 words each) and two double drabbles (200 words each). The commonality is that the toxic boyfriend always receives a punch to the face. :)

Content Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, minor violence, brief blood

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // break up with your toxic boyfriend masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Best step back, mate.” Kyle extends his arm, blocking more of your view.

Your now ex-boyfriend glowers, lips turned downward in a frown. “She’s mine.”

“I broke it off,” you snap over Kyle’s shoulder.

“I’ll handle this,” whispers Kyle, shaking his head.

Your ex guffaws. “You cheated. Shacked up with this wanker.”

The muscle in Kyle’s jaw twitches.

Your ex sneers at Kyle before turning his best smile on you. “I’ve been so good to you. And we both made mistakes.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Won’t happen again.”

“You’re a liar,” you hurl, voice quavering. “You’ll do it again.” And then, more softly. “I didn’t cheat. I left you.”

Your ex takes a step closer, and Kyle matches his movements.

“Back off,” hisses Kyle, shoulders tensing.

“Or what? What will you do?” He keeps moving toward Kyle, nostrils flared, face becoming red with anger. “What will you—”

Kyle swings. He’s so fast you don’t even see his arm move. All you see is the spray of blood and the sudden drop of your ex’s body to the ground.

Your hands cover your mouth. There is silence. Stillness. Then your ex groans, waking, pushing off the ground.

“Piss off,” murmurs Kyle.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny is gonna lose his head if this wanker doesn’t leave.

“She told you fuck off.”

Your ex remains still, not glancing at Johnny. He steps to the side intending to walk around him. Johnny growls. Following.

“Just want to talk. Give me a chance. I’m good for it.”

“You have no right to speak to her,” snaps Johnny.

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

The crunch is loud as Johnny’s fist makes contact. Gratification rolls through Johnny as the man collapses to the ground.

The fucker groans, clutching his face. Johnny grabs your hand, stepping over the guy, leading you away.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

The words don’t make it out of your ex’s mouth.

Simon swings. It is brutal. Raw.

You see red seconds after the crunch. Something is broken. Your ex hits the ground. Simon is already on him, hauling him up by the collar.

“Fuck off with your apologies and sweet talk,” growls Simon. “She’s not taking you back.”

Your ex’s gaze is lucid from Simon’s punch. “If you try to speak to her—fuck, even look at her, I’ll break more than your nose.” Simon shakes him. Your ex groans. “Got it?”

He nods and Simon shoves him to the ground.

John Price

John and your ex are in a standoff.

“Leave,” says Price. “I won’t ask again.”

Your ex rolls his eyes and turns to address you. He always returns with sweet words and kind gestures to lure you back. But not this time.

You’re done.

John grabs him by the throat and shoves him up against the wall. “I told you to leave.”

“You with him now?” your ex says to you, accusation in his tone. “While we’re still together?”

“We’re not together. You abandoned me.”

His lip curls and you know the word he wants to say. It’s sitting on his tongue. He’s used it before.

“She’s not yours,” growls Price.

“Fuck you.”

John drops him, and before his feet hit the ground, John swings, sending your ex’s body spinning into the wall. He hits plaster. Collapses.

“Oh my god.”

John grabs him by the back of his shirt and drags him to the front door. He starts to stir. Kicks out. John kicks him right back, sending him sprawling out onto the front stoop. Your ex sways on his feet, one finger pointed in accusation.

“You—”

“—Are done here,” finishes Price, slamming the door in his face.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior

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whirlybirbs · 1 year

Note

"have a drink with me" w/ johnny soapy mactavish <3

( ! beautiful gif from this set by @sgt-gaz )

; — liars den | johnny "soap" mactavish

summary: drinks and pining shared. pairing: johnny mactavish / gender neutral!reader, birdie tags: casual beers, yearning pining, and breaking the rulebook on fraternization, casual johnny family mention a/n: did you know this man is my little meow meow.

Your eyes settle momentarily on the scars across his knuckles as the good Sergeant tosses back his beer.

You drag your gaze away as if scorched — and Johnny catches the flicker of your lashes as you lean forward, brace your elbows against the bartop, and cast your eyes to the tele above the bartender's shoulder playing the Liverpool-Manchester match.

John swallows his swig roughly.

You inhale, then exhale.

...You shouldn't be here.

A bead of condensation runs down your bottle's neck and rolls over your fingertips.

This — this little off-the-clock wind-down? This is a bad idea. Because here, in this shitty Ranger bar, you're sat down beside him. Johnny motherfucking MacTavish.

...Fuck.

He's a good man. Loves his mum. Calls home often. Has three sisters, all older. He's got a heart a' gold and a smile charming enough t' widdle down even the Lieutenant.

Handsome t' boot.

Kind.

Funny.

Everyone loves the bastard.

And you have been trying your damndest to keep your distance. Miles worth. Thirty-thousand leagues worth. He's head-level, and you're choking up in the thinning atmosphere — and that's how it should be.

But, fer fuck's sake — cut him some slack, would ye? He's tryin' here. Pullin' every damn string he can to get you on their comms. Yer th' best watcher they got, after all, with Laswell back state-side. He doesn't trust anyone else t' be his eyes. Only you. El-tee says he's got it bad.

Maybe he does.

Have a drink with me, he asked after the debrief.

You realized a long time ago you couldn't say no to him — tonight is no exception.

So, here you are. Hip to hip at the bar, shoulder to shoulder sipping beer that's just cold enough.

"Y' look miffed."

You snort into your drink and slide your eyes away from the late-game goal replay.

"That's just my face."

"Nah," he crosses his arms with the bottle still in his left hand, "Yer face's pretty. This face ain't."

You straighten slightly and inhale tightly.

John's smirk twists a bit. "Relax, birdie."

You swig your beer and drop your head. "Heard from Alejandro lately?"

"Yer deflectin'."

You roll your look his way and flatten your stare. You're met with a satisfied smile that's tugging, tugging, tugging at his lips. The shadow of stubble there hides dimples.

"I am not."

"Yes," he emphasizes as he uncrosses his arms and leans closer, "Y'are."

"I'm just askin'—"

"Are y' mad at me?"

You blink hard.

John's face is expectant.

You realize your mouth is open.

"...What?"

"You," he prods your shoulder gently with his pointer finger, then takes a sip, "'ave been avoidin' me like th' plague, birdie."

You fall quiet.

You frown.

"...No, I haven't."

Johnny tuts.

You wish you could just tell him. That you feel your entire chest tighten when he steps into debriefs. That he makes your job harder because you're always watching him and only him. That you have had dreams about touching his face, dreams where you kiss him and it's all starlight and peace and quiet—

"Mum always said lyin' is unbecomin'."

And despite it all, you muscle down the yearning and offer up your best smile.

"We're good. Promise."

His eyes settle on the dig of your smile in your cheeks. He drags his gaze away as if scorched.

"Alright."

...Fuck.

#liars den #john mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x you #john mactavish x you #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish imagine #MY LOOOVVVEEEYYY #mw2 imagine #mw2 x reader #mw2 fic #mw2

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sellyoursoulforagoodfic · 1 year

Text

44/50 Touches

sitting on the other’s lap

John “Soap” MacTavish

Word Count: 248

Your breath whooshed from your lungs when Soap swung dramatically around the booth and dropped directly onto your lap with a singsong version of your name.

“Johnny, what the fuck?” you wheezed, too stunned to shove him off of you.

“Got a favor to ask of you,” he announced in that thick accent of his.

“Does that favor involve stealing my lungs?” The strength of your voice was coming back, at least.

“No. I’ve got a bet with the boys; you know how they get.”

“Does that bet have something to do with stealing my lungs?”

“No one wants to steal your lungs!”

You rolled your eyes. You scooted into a more significant leaning position to shift his weight to be more comfortable. “Then what’s this favor that’s so important that you had to cause physical damage.”

“Go on a date with me.”

Your eyebrows rose high enough that they might as well have said howdy to your hairline. “That so?”

“Apparently we’ve been making eyes at each other enough that they’ve finally had enough.”

“So they dared you to ask me out.”

“They bet that I wouldn’t.”

“And of course, you being you, you never turn down a challenge.”

“Course not.”

Your eyes briefly roamed the room, scanning for anyone listening. “And you just, what, neglected to tell them that we’ve been dating for the last three years?”

His grin was positively devilish. “Easy money.”

A reluctant smile started spreading across your face. “You’re buying.”

“You’re on.”

#soap x reader #soap imagine #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish imagine #call of duty imagine #modern warfare 2 imagine #reader insert #50 touches

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inkbybambi · 4 months

Text

simon "ghost" riley/john "soap" mactavish x fem!reader words: 451 warnings: gunshot wound, gunshot wound survival, angst note: this is my first attempt at a multi-part story and i'm excited but also nervous so please be kind. this is a mwiii fix-it fic because fuck sledgehammer games and fuck activision. all my works are 18+ regardless of if there is smut or not so minors dni.

A shot rings out, and Soap feels a searing pain piercing through his head. A thick wetness seeps down the side of his face, drenching his collar. His vision starts to go black around the edges, each blink heavier than the last.

He wonders if Price was able to stop the bomb.

He hopes so.

He hears Simon say his name.

No, he doesn’t say it. He screams it. It’s a tone Soap’s never heard from him before. He sounds terrified, despair laced in his name.

He feels himself being moved, settled into Simon's lap as his face comes into view. His eyes are glittering with tears and Soap hazily thinks of how pretty Simon is, even with the mask and the eyeblack, and how he’s the luckiest bastard in the world to wake up next to him each day.

And you.

He thinks of you alone in the flat, clutching your phone, waiting for someone to let you know they’re coming home.

“We need medivac now!” Price roars into his coms, the tone fierce and unforgiving.

Gentle hands cradle his head, being so, so careful with him. He's not deserving of such tenderness.

The blackness seeps deeper, and he hears Simon begging, pleading for something. For him to stay awake?

He wants to. But he’s so, so tired. His body is cold and sore all over and he wants to rest. Wants Simon to cradle him from the back with you curled up in his arms, face tucked into his throat so he feels each gentle exhale as you sleep so peacefully with them.

He thinks of Simon and you. How he can’t believe he’s loved so deeply by his soulmates. He never gave much thought to that notion but now that you’re both in his life? He can’t believe in anything but.

Life before Simon was dull.

Simon changed that, made Soap happier than he ever thought possible.

Then you came along, completed it all with your bright smile and sweet soul, clicking into place with them as if you had been there all along.

They had just been waiting for you.

As he starts to drift, he hopes Simon goes home to you, cradles you close and lets you know how much he loves both of you.

His last thought is a distant memory — the first time you woke up in their bed. Hair messy and so, so shy. But when Simon saw you there, he smiled brighter than he had in months. And then you turned to Soap and it took his breath away, how it all felt like it was meant to be, like it was fate.

His eyes slip shut and the world goes dark.

#ink by bambi #see you on the other side #prologue #simon ghost riley imagine #soap mactavish imagine #ghoap imagine #ghoap x you #ghoap x reader #modern warfare imagine #ghostsoap #soapghost

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cherubclover · 6 months

Text

Imagine during the Trojan Horse mission, you are undercover as Soap's girlfriend and one of the 'blend in' actions Soap does is kiss the reader 👀

#call of duty #cod mw3 #mw3 #modern warfare iii #modern warfare x reader #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #imagine #soap mactavish #soap mactavish imagine

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makethatelevenrings · 1 year

Note

Civilian!Reader X Johnny MacTavish

Any of these lol

“You look awful.” “I trust you, it’s ok.” Or

“Wanna bet?”

Feel free to ignore this

Really, it just slipped out.

John got home just when the sun was starting to crack across the horizon and bathe everything in its delicate light. You were an early riser solely because Johnny was an early riser and it was easy to get into the habit and harder to break yourself out of it. His missions were sporadic deployments, not the lengthy months stretching into years that most military spouses were subjected to. But whenever he kissed you goodbye before he headed off to base, you knew that there was a good chance that he didn’t come back this time. Your brave, reckless Scotsman.

You woke up to another day of a cold bed and empty apartment aside from your small calico cat, Missy, short for Missile Launcher. That was courtesy of your husband who was keenly proud of that one. Missy cried at you as you prepared her breakfast as if she couldn’t see that you were actively feeding her and was instead wasting away into nothing.

“I know, love. I miss him too,” you cooed as you set her dish down next to a fresh bowl of water. She rubbed her furry cheek against your shin and then darted towards her food. Now it was time for your own breakfast. Eggs and toast as usual, it seemed. You made a mental note to swing by the local market for some more provisions for the week. Gah, provisions. You were turning into Johnny.

As if the thought of him summoned the damned man, you heard one of the many deadbolts and locks click at the front door and you stood up straighter. One by one, the locks disengaged and then the door swung open to reveal…

“You look awful.” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could stuff them back in. Deep under eye bags marred his normally bright blue eyes and his mohawk was in a complete disarray without a hint of gel in it. Soot covered his cheeks and along his neck. His duffle bag was covered in ash and his boots were too.

“Thanks, hen,” he sighed. “Really makin’ a man feel welcome home there.”

You laughed but beckoned him inside. “Take off your boots before you dirty up the house. What the hell happened?”

“Simon bet Gaz that he couldn’t sneak up on Price and scare him. Simon forgot to add that firecrackers weren’t a viable option.”

You threw your head back with a laugh and let him drag you into his arms. He rubbed his dirty face into the crook of your neck, ensuring that you were covered in soot just as he was. You tangled your hand in his hair and shrieked as he lifted you up and into a bridal carry.

“You better be heading straight for the shower, Mr. MacTavish.”

“Aye, love. You’re all messy. Better clean you up.”

You swatted his shoulder and rolled your eyes as he chuckled. “Hey, you said I looked awful. Gotta make sure I look alright for my darling partner.”

“Sap,” you muttered, but you accepted his sweet kiss nevertheless.

#john mactavish x reader #john mactavish imagine #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish imagine #cod imagine #honey's 3k celebration

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mlmxreader · 4 months

Text

Loyalty Is Weakness | John Soap MacTavish x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Could I request "That quick tongue of yours is gonna get us into shit" with Soap please? ❞

: ̗̀➛ loyalty is a terrible thing, a fatal thing.

: ̗̀➛ MCD/Major Character Death, swearing, gore and blood, war crimes (mentioned)

↳ @mockerycrow @seigwaidau

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

You and Soap did everything you could to be close to one another. From the years back in secondary school, you had always been unnaturally close. Practically sitting on each other's laps during science lessons, always touching one way or another even when you weren't supposed to be.

You could never be far from one another. When teachers forced you to sit on opposite sides of the room, you and Soap would throw paper aeroplanes at each other and constantly pass notes; you could never be torn apart.

Soap had your loyalty, and he knew it. You would follow him to the very ends of the earth and into the very fires of Hell, if it meant being near him; you even followed him into war.

You followed him into war like the loyal dog that you were, and although you knew that you had his loyalty all the same, it didn't stop the banter; they called you a dog, Soap's lapdog.

You did anything he said without question, but always questioned everyone else; they didn't hold your loyalty the way that Soap did. You were utterly loyal to each other, and everyone knew it. You did not fight for a country, you did not fight for politics, you did not fight for money, you did not fight for a king - you fought for Soap.

You would only ever fight for Soap.

You would not fight for anything else, as nothing else held as much worth to you. But that didn't stop their promises; they said you would be fighting for glory, that you would be fighting for freedom and justice. You never saw any of that.

Where was the glory in killing civilians?

Where was the glory in bombing houses?

Where was the freedom in forcing prisoners of war to lie naked?

Where was the freedom in stealing babes from their mothers' bosoms?

Where was the justice in slaughtering the elderly?

Where was the justice in using toxic gas?

It was all bullshit... but you couldn't leave Soap. He had your loyalty, and he would keep it no matter the circumstances. Your loyalty only lied with Soap.

The things you did would never leave you.

The screams still curdling in your ears loudly whenever everything went quiet; the sight of blood dripping from your hands still sticky and wet whenever you didn't wear gloves. The smell of human shit and piss constant whenever you weren't smoking; the taste of copper and sand on your tongue whenever you left it more than an hour without smoking.

Price made you do most of it, always laughing as he said to "bring the dog in". Ghost would humiliate them before you got to them, and it took everything in you not to cry. You would always end up sobbing with your back against the wall at the end of every day; but you had to stay with Soap.

You had to protect him, you had to keep him alive - you had to stay with him. Your loyalty lied with him, and such a loyalty was not easily broken. What Price and Ghost did, and what they made you do, was not war, though.

It was not warfare. It was cruelty, in its purest form, and you would never be able to forget it. No matter how much you scrubbed your hands and screamed at their ghosts that you were sorry.

Your loyalty lied with Soap, you would do anything for him.

You did your best as you pinned him underneath you and shot at them; swallowing thickly as you aimed for their feet and hoped that they would jump back. That they would realise that you did not want to kill.

You never realised that there was a gap in the rock by Soap's head, and that it was big enough for a single, lucky shot.

You didn't even realise until you felt it yourself, a sharp sting in your chest as you fell onto your back, gasping for breath harshly; you could feel something wet spreading across your body, and grabbed Soap, yanking him over and wondering why he was limp. But then you saw it.

His wide, open grey eye. His slack jaw. The jagged and open gaping wound in the side of his face; it trailed from his forehead, all the way down to his lip. Still spurting out blood as his brain matter seeped through the crack in his skull, dripping onto your face. The bones in his face shattered and exploded out the back of his head, leaving half of him open and exposed.

You shook your head, swallowing thickly.

"That quick tongue of yours is gonna get us into shit," you had told him hours before. "Why'd you fucking call Ghost a twat faced sausage roll?"

"It was funny!" Soap had snapped with a laugh.

Your stomach sank as you realised. You would never hear his laugh again. You could never feel his lips on yours again, nor could you ever feel his hands holding yours as he danced with you to Sabaton songs.

You would never have a future, but as everything started to grow darker, you realised that maybe it was all a terrible dream.

More shots rang out as you leaned your head back, convinced it wasn't real; even when you felt Soap's body above you shaking and jumping as the bullets entered his back, neck, and what was left of the back of his head to make sure he was dead. His blood mixing with your own on your chest; you had always been loyal to him.

Your reward for such undying loyalty, was to be comforted by dying together.

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