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celestialwhoree · 2 months

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WHEN I SAY NEED I MEAN NEED!!

The 141 + Konig with their s/o wearing a pheromone perfume just to tease them or simply just for fun to see their reaction while they are turning FERAL to get another wiff of that addictive smell.

(u could just skip this but if you have free time and willing to is an absolute)

Thank yew besty, i can sleep in peace now. 😌

Anon baby?! You cute toot little genius megamind?! Also I can't believe this is my first time writing for König? Anywho💕

Price buys all of his s/o's perfumes, knows the scents they like and their favourite notes and therefore buys them a perfume for every occasion or at any airport duty free he manages to browse. Because of this, he has a tendency to bury his nose in their neck, or kiss the insides of their wrists, the smell of them alone allowing him to think back to the day they got married or the night he proposed. When he stuffs his nose between the crook of their neck and their hair, and doesn't recognise the scent they're wearing, he's immediately confused, leaving his face smooshed against them whilst he tries to work out what it is they're wearing that smells so delicious. They're just trying to reply to some emails whilst he's literally got his face buried in the back of their neck, sniffing loudly as he tries to get their attention. "You got new perfume?" He grumbles lustfully, voice halfway between a low grunt and a breathless rumble. "Mhm. You like it?" "Smells fuckin' delicious - smells like sex." "Sex?" You giggle incredulously. "Sex. Speaking of which, come to bed."

Gaz loves when the smell of his s/o lingers around their home and reminds him of them. He loves when his head hits the pillow of the bed and their sweet shampoo lingers in their shared space, or when he puts on one of the hoodies they've borrowed and it still smells of them. When he comes home from an errand to them sat watching their favourite show on the TV, he practically lays on top of them like some kind of human weighted blanket, stuffing his face up their shirt with a deep sigh. "Smell good." He grumbles into the warm skin of their sternum. "Yeah?" Your hum, scratching your nails soothingly into his scalp, to which he only gives a contented hum of approval. He spends the afternoon just sort of nosing at their skin, and ends up falling asleep in their shirt.

Johnny is just generally feral. This man uses all of their fancy creams and lotions, just generally doesn't share the boundaries that some couples would have. He'd spot the perfume on their bathroom counter straight away, probably brush it off too. He doesn't really pay it much mind how good they smell until they're both pottering around the kitchen together making dinner. He'll just sort of inch closer until he's grabbing their wrist where they've spritzed a tiny bit of the perfume that morning and proceeded to forget about it. He's so weird about showing his affection too, probably nipping at them and licking them throughout the day, confused as to why they're more alluring and attractive than normal. His mind races with thoughts of maybe they're ovulating or he's got some kind of weird hormonal guy thing going on. Whatever it is, he's all over them all evening, and practically pawing their clothes off when they get to bed.

Simon gets grumpy when he can't control himself around them. He's a man who prides himself on his ability to remain stoic and impassive, not to mention the fact that he hates feeling like some out of control, lovesick teenage boy. He gets all huffy and puffy, and his s/o is like genuinely concerned for him, so much so that he walks in on them in the bathroom scrubbing at their neck and wrists with a loofah. "The fuck are you doing?" He grunts with an inquisitive, amused raise of his eyebrow. "I - um - spilled something?" "Like that 'pheromone' stuff I got the purchase notification on my bank app for?" "Whaaaaaat? No! Maybe." He just sort of chuffs at their oversight, and the fact that he'd literally seen them browsing these faddy pheromone perfumes on the sofa right beside him.

König literally is just an animal. This man has very limited social decorum as is, at home? Yeah, no, gone. His boundaries are non existent, and he has a tendency to paw at his s/o, slip his hands down their pants or up their shirts daily. Wearing pheromone perfume doesn't help their cause. He spends the day following them around the house like a needy puppy, whining when they swat him away so that they can work or cook or go to the bathroom. He acts all grumbly and wounded and pathetic, and they promptly hide the pheromone perfume, deeming it more of a hindrance than a help, although it is kind of entertaining to see their nearly seven foot, sniper boyfriend so needy over something that they thought was a total scam. It doesn't stop him from practically dragging them to bed by the scruff of their neck, huffing about how he's been wanting them all day.

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thewulf · 3 months

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Lassie || John "Soap" MacTavish

Summary: Request -Okay hear me out!! If you hate it you can change it to whatever bc you are amazing and crush every single request! Soap x reader where reader is maybe newer or helping with TF 141 on assignment... Read Rest Here

A/N: Ahhh had a grand old time writing this angsty to fluffy piece. Who doesn't love a good Scottish softie??? Ahh love Soap so much! As always please keep sending in requests :)

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x Female Reader, TF 141 x Platonic Female Reader

Word Count: 3.5k +

TW: slight angst, talks of stabbing, lots of blood, talks of blood, despondent reader

Johnny turned looking back at you with a hint of a smirk on his face, “You alright there lassie?”

You huffed in annoyance as you tried to keep up with him under the fifty or so pounds of equipment you had on, “I’m fine Soap. Let’s just get out of here.” You pushed back your helmet that was just a little too big and kept sliding around on your head ever so slightly. You’d just completed the first part of the mission, disarm their equipment. Now the second part, get the hell out of there.

He gave you a quick nod fighting back the sight of you, “Roll out. Follow me.” He nodded his head to the left as he cleared the hallway. You kept on his toes as you quickly followed behind him.

He slowed down when he approached a door that was hardly propped open. Kicking the stand away from it he decided you were going through first. He grabbed you and pushed you through the doorway. Startled by his actions you weren’t able to stop from stumbling through. The door clicked with a shut as Johnny must’ve been preoccupied with something behind the two of you. Not thinking too much of it your heart only started to race when you realized the heavy steel door was locked. You gulped trying to pull it open but was met by only resistance.

You tried opening the steel door a few more times, but the lock wouldn’t budge, “Johnny?” You asked hoping your voice wasn’t echoing down the long hallway giving way to your position. Your hands were shaking as you grabbed for your gun just in case. You would be fine no matter what. You were trained for this. Price wouldn’t let you out of his sight if he didn’t think you could do this with or without Soap.

You couldn’t hear his voice through the door, but you could hear the tapping. It took you a moment, but you could make out that he was telling you to, “Go.” In Morse Code. You really wished you had your comms right about now. You were pretty sure you remembered to get out of the building, but you were also a bit frazzled with this being your first real mission out on the field. You could do it. Johnny wouldn’t tell you to go if he knew you couldn’t.

It was going fine until it wasn’t. You had only a little further to go but then you heard the voices. You ducked in the hallway as you listened in to the conversation. It was no use as you couldn’t understand what language they were speaking. You grabbed for the knife in its sheath on your side knowing a gun would be too loud and would really draw in unwanted attention. You had to get out of her without being noticed. You could do it. You were trained for this.

With a heavy sigh you pressed forward only dodging into hallways as you needed. Except you dodged too late one time and had been spotted. Without so much as a second thought you pressed forward driving your knife deep into the soldiers neck taking him by complete surprise. With your free hand you pressed your hand over his mouth so he wouldn’t make as much noise. You watched in horror as the light faded from his eyes. Your eyes welled with tears as you muttered a “I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry.” Over and over again willing the unshed tears to retreat away one more. Gently, you pulled him into the hallway knowing you didn’t have much time and had to keep moving.

This was too much. You were trained, yes. But you didn’t know if you could do this. You didn’t think your mind could handle watching the light literally fade away from somebodies entirety like you just had. You looked down and shuddered seeing his red bed coating the front of your uniform.

You moved forward with your mind screaming at you to do the opposite. You took down two more even though you tried your hardest to hide. But it was kill or be killed and Soap would actually kill you if you died. So, you did what you had to do and killed them. You officially had a body count. You were officially apart of Task Force 141.

You jumped behind a column and sunk to the floor covering your ears with your knife pressed against your head dangerously close to cutting your cheeks when you heard gun shots ring out in front of you. You hadn’t a clue if it was friendly or not so you did what you could and hid.

It was Soap on a rampage looking for you. His comms were out as expected in the concrete jungle, so he was flying blind looking for you. He gulped when he finally found you crouched behind a hallway pillar. He noticed your shaking hand grasping at the crimson-soaked knife he knew you had to use. His eyes traced over your form looking for any obvious signs of injury, but it was hard to distinguish their blood from yours. You were covered. He fought back the urge to cringe at the sight of your fragile form. This was not supposed to happen. He was supposed to get you in and out in one piece. Sure, that was still going to happen, but you’d surely be messed up from this. Johnny saw the bodies. He knew you had to have killed at least three people in your attempt to get out unscathed.

“Love, we need to go.” He held out his hand hoping you would take it. When your wide eyes met his he knew he really messed up. You had trained for it sure, but you’d never actually taken a life before. Did you kill someone’s mother? Their father? Were their parents going to be looking for them? Would they simply vanish into thin air and be considered missing? All of these thoughts and many more made your brain a useless pile of mush. You were overwhelmed in the worst way.

“Lovie, can you hear me?” His voice was muddled but you could hear him. Johnny squatted so he was eye level with you. He pried the knife out of your hand slowly once he was sure you weren’t going to attack him. Not that you would mean it, but he didn’t know where your head was at.

Setting the knife on the other side of his feet he grabbed at the side of your head, “Y/N, are you with me? We gotta get outta ‘ere.” His eyes frantically searched yours for any sign that you recognized what he was saying.

Your eyes locked with his, “Yeah, sorry. I don’t… I don’t know what happened.”

He smiled with relief grabbing at your blood-stained hand, “There you are, bonny. It’s okay. Gave me a right scare there. Let’s go, we can talk about it later, yeah?” He held your hand this time the entire way out. He had killed far more many people as bodies were littered on the floor. Maybe it was simply inevitable. These people were going to die today whether it was at your hand or Soaps. It made the sinking feeling in your gut subside for just a moment as you thought about how you had killed people today.

You felt him squeeze your hand. Looking up you saw the concern once again washing over his face, “Sorry, what’d you say?” You asked while following behind him. He was moving slow for your sake. He knew you weren’t in the best headspace and didn’t want to push you too hard. You could handle it, sure. But he didn’t want you to hate him either.

“I said you did a good job back there lassie.” He gave you a sympathetic look knowing how in your own head you were at the moment.

You sucked in a breath, “I had too…”

He stopped you before you could say it out loud, “I know. It comes with the job. You didn’t have a choice lassie.” He gave your hand another soft squeeze before going through yet another door in the maze that was this building. No wonder comms didn’t work in this place. It was a cinderblock maze.

You let out a frustrated sigh, “I just didn’t think…” You trailed off once more not knowing how to string together sentences anymore.

“Didn’t think what bonny?” He pressed you on knowing you needed to get your thoughts out. He remembered his first time too. Nobody forgot. It never really got easier in the field you just got a little number to it each time. Kill or be killed. A mantra that kept you sane when your body count grew a little too high for even your own comfort.

“That I would have to take a life. I’m a killer Johnny.” You looked down in shame as if he too hadn’t killed people. Many, many people.

He stopped abruptly pushing you up against the wall as gently as he could, “I need you to listen to me lassie, do you hear me?” He whispered in your ear before taking a peek around making sure the two of you weren’t being ambushed.

When you nodded he continued, “You had no choice bonny. No choice. Price is right when he says it’s kill or be killed. You had to do it to stay alive. And I’m sure as hell glad you chose to fight. I… we love having you here with us. Now, let’s get home so we can get cleaned up.”

You gulped feeling a small weight being lifted off your shoulders at his rushed words, “Thank you Johnny.”

He grabbed for your hand again not willing to take the risk of getting split up from your again, “Anytime lassie.” He turned back to you once you’d made it a bit further, “100 more meters, you up for it bonny?” Nodding quickly, you tried to ignore his growing smirk as you were sure he noticed your cheeks giving you away. The way he was both calling you lassie and the new nickname of bonny had you swooning at the worst time.

Giving him a thumbs up you couldn’t get your brain to work. All you wanted was out of the damn building and back to the chopper. A warm shower really felt like it’d clear up half your worries right about now.

“Come on then.” He grinned pulling you along. He ran a little faster seeing you were keeping up now. When he pushed opened the door you felt your heart rate pick up in anticipation. Just a little further and you were there. Soap checked the surroundings making sure the two of you weren’t sitting ducks before taking off towards the chopper with you in tow.

As if it was second nature he picked you up and as gracefully as ever threw you into the chopper knowing that Ghost or Gaz would stop you from falling out the other side. He was right, Ghosts hands grabbed you steady when you came flying through the open door with Soap climbing in not too far behind you. Swiftly he shut the door letting the pilot know he needed to take off.

You noticed Ghosts soft brown eyes go wide under his balaclava seeing your blood-soaked uniform, “What happened Sergeant?” He looked over you and to Johnny who was standing there with his mouth open in surprise. It wasn’t often a mission got away from him. Let alone one with you. Gaz sat there motionless observing the chaotic scene unfolding before him. He knew it was best to sit back and let whatever was to happen, happen.

Soap pulled you over to the seat next to Ghost and sat you down seeing you were still a tad disoriented from the entire ordeal. Normally he’d be cracking a joke or making fun of you, but he saw that look in your eye. He remembered his first time being truly afraid. You must’ve been terrified. You had to kill, or you’d be killed. You’d heard it thousands of times already by Captain Price in your short stint with the 141 but it never really registered that you had to do it. It meant something so much more now.

Ghost watched as Soap buckled you in. He let him take care of your shaken figure before he would demand an answer. Ghosts eyes softened the softest amount seeing your wide, panicked eyes. You didn’t look hurt. Just afraid.

“A damn door LT.” Soap’s thick accent came out as he focused on you and really only you. It wasn’t out of character for the Scot. He always took care of his teammates. But neither Kyle nor Simon were blind to the way he lit up when you walked into his field of vision. How he always made excuses to be closer to you. How he just seemed happier when you were around.

Simon’s eyes left your body and moved over to Soap’s who sat down next to you, “Care to elaborate?” The Lieutenant didn’t use many words as was usual around the group.

He sighed looking at you solemnly, “We got separated by a locked door. She moved forward at my command and had to eliminate a few targets on her own. I got around through another exit but wasn’t quite quick enough. She’s been in and out of it since.” He spoke calmly as he buckled in. He grabbed a headset and gently placed it over your ears before working on his own.

You gave him a quick smile, “Thanks Soap.” It came out as more of a whisper. You felt utterly exhausted. Who knew a mission as simple as that could take it all literally right out of you? You tried to listen in to the conversation between LT and Soap as best you could, but it sounded muddled as your thoughts raced in front of you. You’d never felt so helpless in your life as your eyes landed on Gaz in front of you who only looked at you with that same concern you saw from not only Soap but Ghost as well. This was certainly not what you had planned when you graduated engineering school only five years prior. Life had a funny way of throwing you a few twists and turns.

“You ‘lright there lassie?” You heard the thick Scottish accent come from your side. They must’ve wrapped up their conversation as you were in your own head once more.

Nodding quickly your eyes broke away from Kyle and up to Johnny, “Yeah, yeah. I’m okay.” It was a lie. You weren’t really fine, but you would be. After a few days of self-wallowing and a some more training you’d be as good as new.

“You’re shaking.” He whispered right in your ear trying not to draw too much attention to your trembling hands

You looked down seeing what he saw. Sure, as hell your hands were shaking rapidly, and you hadn’t even noticed, nor could you stop it. The adrenaline mixed with exhaustion had your body all out of sorts. You turned your head to his just missing his cheek with your own before whispering back, “I can’t stop it.” Soap was the only one of the Task Force you were so open with. Ghost scared the hell out of you. Price felt like your father. You’d never had a proper conversation with Gaz. And Johnny was well… Johnny. He brought out the best in everybody including you.

He took your hands in his giving them a gentle squeeze of reassurance, “It’s alright bonny. We’ll be back on base soon. Get you to the medical tent for a check over. A nice hot shower after that. How does that sound?”

You shook your head trying your best to protest his statement, “Can’t I just take a shower?” You whined to Ghosts amusement beside you. He tried not to watch the tender moment between his two responsibilities but it’s also not like he could avoid it. You were quite literally pressed right up against him, there wasn’t a ton of room in the chopper.

“No can-do lassie. Watched you take a nasty hit to the head. Afraid some of that blood is yours.” He motioned to your head. How’d the massive helmet miss? You touched the tender wound on your forehead that was in fact bleeding.

Ghost grunted in agreement beside you, “Captain’s orders.”

Johnny gave your hands another reassuring squeeze, “It’s alright. I’ll come with ya. You’ll be just fine lassie.” Truth was you didn’t love doctors. And you really didn’t love military doctors. They were so much rougher and more abrasive than the ones back home.

“Fine.” You sighed giving up to all the stares directed right at you. Thankfully Johnny was right. The ride back to base was pretty short. Either that or you’d fallen asleep on his shoulder.

He helped you out of the chopper once you landed. Ghost gave him orders to take you directly to medical and to not leave your side. It’s like he knew you’d go right back to your bunk if you didn’t have supervision. He was right of course.

“You didn’t have to wait up on me.” You said as you spotted Johnny sitting in the waiting room for you. He rose and walked over to you in an instant.

“’Course I did bonny. Had to make sure you were alright.” He looked up to the doctor standing behind you with a kind smile on his face.

“She’ll be fine. Just needs to rest for a few days. Small concussion. I’ve already sent the file over to Price so he should not be expecting you at training tomorrow.” The doctor gently reminded you knowing that the soldiers needed a not so gentle nudge of a reminder sometimes.

Johnny nodded, “No need to worry doc. I’ll make sure she stays in bed.” Soap beamed giving the doctor that all to familiar Johnny grin which wasn’t always a reassurance.

“Right.” The doctor mumbled before departing behind the doors once more leaving you and Johnny alone in the lobby.

“They clean you up then?” Johnny asked as he stepped closer to you slowly. Almost afraid you’d shy away if he walked too fast.

You hummed, “Yeah, sorry. I didn’t know you’d be waiting. The nurse offered a shower, and I couldn’t resist.” You shuddered thinking of how the shower was nothing but red for minutes before the water could wash away all he blood.

“No, no. It’s alright bonny. I’m just glad you’re feeling better.” He took a step closer grabbing for your hand once more, “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” He asked looking down at the time, 3 AM. For the first time that day he let you lead the way back to your room. He knew you needed some semblance of control after losing so much of it today.

Once you neared your room you slowed, almost hesitating when you reached for the door, “Everything alright lassie?” Johnny asked knowing something was off with you. He always knew.

You turned to him slowly, “I don’t want to be alone Johnny.” It sounded pathetic coming out of your mouth as you spoke to him.

His heart officially shattered then and there seeing you so unlike your usual self, “I’ll stay with you.”

“You don’t have to do that Soap.” You looked down embarrassed by your remark.

“Well, I’ll be. If you just wanted to snuggle why didn’t you say so?” He snickered before pulling you flush against his chest. Immediately you felt your cheeks start to heat under his comment.

“Soap.” You grumbled into his chest not having the energy

“’m just messing you bonny.” He kissed the top crown of your neck as his arm found a comfortable spot on your hip, “Get some sleep lassie. I’ll see ya in the mornin’.” His accent was thick as he too was exhausted. You snuggled in closer smelling his woody cologne that clung to his chest. Sleep came quickly as you were enveloped in his arms. And that might’ve been the best sleep you’ve had in a long time. For you only woke up when Soap’s training alarm went off at ten the next morning. He’d decided to skip the morning session knowing it was worth the wrath of Price for a few extra hours of sleep with you.

You yawned seeing him make his way towards your door, “Try not to get into too much trouble today.” You grinned seeing him surprised you were awake. He had thought he’d done an expert job of keeping quiet. He had been. You just missed his arms wrapped around you.

“I’ll try my best.” He laughed with a big smile seeing your much more coherent expression watching him curiously, “I’ll come get you for lunch, how does that sound?” He asked.

“I’d like that.”

He grinned once more, “I’ll see you soon then. Get some more sleep. You’ll need it.” You nodded at him knowing it wasn’t going to happen without his help. No, you were far too cozy before to even try and sleep right now. But you weren’t frightened anymore no. You were going to lay there and think about cozying up to Johnny’s body once more for it was a pleasure you never knew you needed. Leave it to Johnny.

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daisies-daydreams · 3 months

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I feel as tho soap would come to the nail salon with us and think he could handle the same length his s/o (xl nails) and he break his first nail in like 2 hrs of getting them

If It Ain't Broke (Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x F!Reader)

Pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x F!Reader Category: Fluff Warnings: Swearing, Teasing, Innuendo(s) Word Count: 1k+ A/N: Omg yes 🤭Thank you for the fun request and I hope you enjoy!

“Are you sure about this, dolly?” your boyfriend scrunched his nose as the two of you walked towards the local nail salon. You rolled your eyes and giggled.

“C’mon Johnny - we both know who won that bet last night,” you winked. Your boyfriend bit the inside of his cheek as both of you walked inside.

“Hi (Y/N)!” one of the technicians chirped and waved from their station. You smiled back, your arm slung around Johnny’s as you dragged him towards the front counter.

“Oh, so this is the infamous Johnny you’re always talking about,” the receptionist said as her eyes scanned him up and down. Your boyfriend chuckled and raised a brow at you.

“Infamous, eh?” he smirked and nudged your elbow. The tips of your ears burned a little as you laughed nervously.

“Don’t worry - (Y/N)’s only said good things about you,” she said with a short pause. “And I can see why,” the receptionist added while nibbling on the end of her pen. Your brows furrowed a little as you felt a twinge of jealousy strike through your chest.

“Anywho, I heard you lost a bet last night, Mr. Army Man,” she mused with a raised brow. Your expression softened as you giggled.

“Yep! Good ol’ Johnny just couldn't handle it,” you winked at your chiseled lover. Johnny snorted as he glanced away.

“What was the bet exactly?” the receptionist whispered, her eyes lit with curiosity. You could practically hear Johnny’s chest tightened as you bit your lip.

“Well you see, he was wondering how long either of us could-”

“That’ll do,” Johnny said with a tense smile as he wrapped his hand over your mouth. The receptionist pursed her lips before typing on her keyboard, her vibrant, acrylic nails clacking against the keys before she smiled.

“Well, you’re in for a treat today, Johnny,” she said with a bubbly voice. Your boyfriend tensed as he lowered his hand from your lips.

“Guess that's one way to put it,” he sighed. The two of you were soon brought back, Johnny’s boots thudding against the tiled floor as his steps grew stiff.

“C’mon, Johnny. The sooner you get them on, the sooner you can take them off,” you lilted before you were seated.

“What size are we doing today, (Y/N)?” the technician across from you, Kim, asked as she tilted her head. You purse your lips before shifting your gaze towards Johnny. A smirk crept onto your face before you hummed.

“XL Stilettos for me, please,” you beamed. Your smirk remained as Johnny sat down beside you. “Just a small for him,” you leaned over and whispered loudly. “He couldn’t handle anything larger,” you giggled. Johnny straightened up in his chair as he puffed out his chest.

“Now hold on a second,” he began. You hummed as you held your hands out towards Kim.

“What’s wrong, Johnny?” you cooed. Your lover shot you a wry grin as he stared you down.

“You don’t think I can handle what you wear, hm?” he murmured while holding his hands out for the technician across from him. You tilted your head side to side.

“Mmm…nope!” you said. He huffed and poked his tongue out beneath his cheek.

“Alright, I see how it is,” Johnny said before clearing his throat. “I’ll have what she’s having,” he told his technician. The two workers exchanged glances before giggling.

“If you say so,” his technician shrugged before getting to work.

+++

“Well, that wasn’t as painful as I thought it would be!” Johnny said as he spread his fingers out and flicked his hands back and forth. You laughed.

“It’s not like it’s a nail transplant,” you teased playfully and bumped his arm. Johnny chuckled as the two of you walked inside your shared flat. “I just can’t believe you drove home in those,” you snickered. Your lover raised his brows as he closed the door behind you.

“Yeah?” he asked as he tried to untie his boots, only to curse as his nails kept slipping against his shoelaces. You sighed as you stooped down and gracefully slipped your fingers across his laces. Johnny blinked as you rose back up to your feet. “Thanks, dolly,” a small blanket of pink tinted his cheeks as he looked away.

“No problem,” you winked before sashaying to the living room. Your boyfriend followed you before the two of you plopped down on the couch and turned on the match. You laughed as he clicked his nails against each other, his eyes utterly fixated on the glossy sheen on the acrylic nails.

“Enjoying yourself?” you mused. Johnny blinked before he set his arm over your shoulder.

“A little,” he confessed with a quiet chuckle. You laughed and snuggled into his side before turning your attention back to the match playing on TV. You sighed and closed your eyes while Johnny mindlessly stroked his fingers through your hair, his wide chest rising and falling steadily.

“Been thinking about what we should do before I go back,” your lover said. Your heart sank a little at the thought of him leaving again. You understood what his career entailed, but you couldn’t help the worry that gnawed at your heart every time you watched him walk out your door.

“Well, maybe we could-” your eyes widened when you heard a sudden snapping sound right next to your ear. Johnny’s breath hitched as he slowly pulled his hand away, the whites of his eyes nearly swallowing his irises whole. You instantly burst into laughter as he held up his palm: one of his nails snapped clean.

“How in the hell?!” he howled with laughter while shaking his head. The room was filled with your combined chuckling, your sides growing sore as your eyes watered incessantly.

“Oh my God,” you laughed while wiping your eyes. Johnny’s breathing eventually calmed down before he sighed. “Thank you, Johnny. I really needed that laugh today,” you giggled before pressing a kiss to his cheek. Your boyfriend’s eyes lit up as his smile softened.

“No problem, dolly,” he chuckled before pecking your lips.

____

Thank you for reading! 🩷

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mlmxreader · 5 months

Text

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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passi0np1t · 8 months

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writing… smthing… for 🧼

#stays tuned?#im back with a vengeance bitches #cod #codmw2 #codmw3 #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x y/n #soap mactavish x you #soap mactavish smut #soap mactavish fluff #soap mactavish angst

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chaosandmarigolds · 22 days

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“No, no no, baby-baby let mama talk-“ much to your dismay your toddler already took off with the tablet down the hall with your husband on face time. With a disgruntled huff you walk down the hall and move to open the door only to falter for a moment as you hear your husbands voice.

“Takin’ care of your mum, bubs?”

“Des sir.”

“Why you runnin’ from her then?”

“Caasaaus I wanna talk to you and when mummy starts to talk to you she doesn’t share.”

A gruff laugh, “Alright alright, well what do you wanna talk about then, lad?”

You stand outside the door for a solid ten minutes before you knocked on the door and moved your son to your lap to smile down at your husband.

“Hey, honey.”

“Hey, hot stuff.”

You see him roll his eyes and you bite back a smile.

“Lad told me you’re not sharin enough.”

You playfully gasp, which triggered your sons giddy laughter, “No! Really??”

“Really!”

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witchthewriter · 1 month

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Gaz: I sleep with a knife under my pillow.

Soap: Weak. I sleep with a gun.

Y/N: You’re both pathetic

Soap: What do YOU sleep with?

Y/N: Simon.

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metallictastinglifesupportliquid · 1 month

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Y/N, on the floor: Go on...without me! Soap, crying and kneeling down beside them: No! We can get through this together, just like we always do! Y/N: There's no time! You must defend our honour. Don't let my death be for nothing! Soap, sobbing: I can't do this without you! Y/N: Goodbye, old friend...*goes limp* Konig, whispering to Ghost: They do realise this is just a dodgeball game, right? Ghost, aiming at Soap: Konig, this is war. Show no mercy

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mitoad · 1 month

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everyone always talks about ‘medic reader’ this and ‘teammate reader’ that but what abt weapons engineer/mechanic reader ?

just a silly little fella who helps out the 141 with their weapons when they go out of whack, who works very closely with the team to coordinate certain weapons for specific missions .

they’d probably have a really close bond with soap , both having fun with testing demolitions together . who’s able to add in ideas and carry conversations with you when you ramble on about weapons . johnny pulls you close to him when they get startled from the loud noise of an explosion , laughing a little at how they excuse their sudden vulnerability with ‘not expecting it to be that loud’.

price who seeks them out when he’s having issues with his cm901, having to endure your age-long lectures about not accidentally slamming the barrel to hard. he subconsciously makes sure the brush his hand over yours when he finally retrieves his now-fixed weapon.

yeah nyways weapon mech! reader has my heart

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longing-for-the-past-times · 8 months

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their reaction to you wearing a flavoured lipstick

task force 141 x reader headcanons

synopsis: headcanons of how would they react when the reader wears a flavoured lipstick/lip gloss/lip balm

notes: can you tell who is my favourite?

comments and reblogs are always appreciated🙈

warnings: mentions of smoking, occasional swearing, tooth-rotting fluff

find it on a03 masterlist

Captain 'John' Price - chocolate and red velvet

He may be slightly old-fashioned and love it when you wear red lipstick as he considers it a classy, but bold choice of colour

He is aware that you own more than one red lipstick, yet he secretly cannot differentiate one shade from another. Not that he'll ever let you know

That is until one day you visit him at work. He won't let it show, but he becomes jealous the second you walk in the base, your lips painted in a rich, velvety crimson. He cannot take his eyes off you, hypnotized by the captivating movement of your lips as you speak to him, telling him about your day and what you thought you should have for dinner.

John does not miss the hungry looks that are thrown across your way. He is quick to snake his hand around your waist and usher you to his office, where he could be the only one relishing in the allure the red lipstick cast over you-

"John, you're not really listening, are you?" your playful tone snaps him out of his reverie, a sheepish look plastered on his face.

"Love, did I ever tell you how much red lipstick suits you?"

"Only twice per day and more than ten times per night…" you roll your eyes at his antics, cupping his cheeks in your hands and planting a kiss at the corner of his lips, letting out a small giggle as his stubble tickled your lips.

"Well, I am headed home to get started on that dinner you didn't pay attention to!" you keep teasing him, amused by his dazzled expression. Little did you know, you had him wrapped around your finger.

"A…Alright, drive safe! I'll be there as soon as I finish this paperwork!"

Only he spends the next hour daydreaming about your red lips and the tender way they made contact with his skin, the phantom touch still lingering on the corner of his lips. Unconsciously, he traces his tongue over the place, freezing when he feels a mild flavour of chocolate.

He checks it once again, partially ashamed of the childish gesture. If any of his teammates caught him at that moment, they wouldn't let him live it down. But the subtle taste is there, sweet yet distant, almost as if it was teasing him.

The paperwork's long forgotten before he realizes it must be your lipstick. You might have told him that you found a new flavoured collection, but he had been too busy staring at your giddy figure to pay attention.

So he becomes a man with a plan and does not delay heading home anymore. The drive there seems endless, but it's all worth it the moment he opens the door and sees you standing by the kitchen counter, wearing the apron he gave you for Christmas

One second he's by the door, the next he's smashing his lips against yours, a small sigh of pleasure leaving him as he relishes in the now-intense aroma of chocolate.

"Warn an old man next time, will ya?"

From that day on, he starts calling you "chocolate". The pet name raises a few eyebrows here and there, but none of you are bothered by it. Not when you could tease him about his newly-found sweet tooth and he could lose himself in your delicate kisses.

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley - strawberries and cigarettes

There are times when he becomes a heavy smoker, sitting on the balcony of your shared apartment and burning through a pack in one day while his mind is mulling over the previous or the next mission

In times like those, he has nothing against your presence, secretly enjoying when you lay his head atop his shoulder and hug him from behind, but he always refuses to kiss you afterwards, arguing that the acrid taste of cigarettes would gross you out

It definitely doesn't- it is an integral part of him that you'd come to accept and love- and now you couldn't live without it

Until one evening, you opt to sit across him, leaning your hands on the balcony railing, while your eyes wander over the city lights. Over the course of your relationship with Simon, you had grown used to his long bouts of silence, becoming accustomed to all of his telltale signs: his left eyebrow would twitch when he doesn't like something, his right foot would continuously tap against the ground when he is distressed.

Three cigarettes in, and his foot is reenacting Radetzky's March. He is utterly unaware of the amused glances you steal at him

"Something the matter, love?" you ask him in a sweet tone, trying to pull off your most innocent face.

"'s nothing", he begins hesitantly, his voice rough from not using it. "…just a little cold, I guess"

You have to turn your head away from him and back to the city, a satisfied smirk spreading on your face. Simon might have been the deadliest operator the Special Forces have had in a long time, but deep down he was also a touch-starved man who found solace and peace in your arms

When the foot tapping does not stop, you struggle to school your face into a neutral expression and turn towards him, your eyes melting at the sight of his dishevelled blonde hair and furrowed brow. He sheepishly looks up in your direction, a silent plea dancing in his chocolate eyes.

You stand and approach him slowly, stopping only when your faces are inches apart. His half-burnt cigarette is forgotten in the ashtray, the remnants of smoke in his breath fanning over your face.

His eyes hold a hundred unanswered questions: did he do something to upset you, did you grow sick of him, can he do anything to get you back; but they are all silenced when you lean in further, placing a gentle and intimate kiss on his lips

The unexpected gesture sends shivers of pleasure down his spine and he has to take a moment before cupping your cheeks in his hands and kissing you back, the way you deserve to be kissed

You chuckle in his mouth before pecking both his eyes and forehead and returning to your original position, your head resting in the crook of his neck as your arms engulf him in a warm hug

He opens his mouth to scold you for kissing him when he is smoking. In his mind, it is almost like he is tainting your presence with the stale smell of smoked cigarettes. But as the words form on his lips, he hesitates, his mind struggling to acknowledge the foreign taste on his tongue

He turns to look at you with a confused look on his face. It was October so there could be no strawberries at the market and the freezer was empty as you had eaten all ice cream when you were on your period-

So why did he taste strawberries on your kiss?

"I may have found a lip gloss from high school", you eventually break the silence, blowing a huff of strawberry-scented air in his direction. "One I bought and swore to keep untouched until I found someone worth using it for!"

His thunderous laugh has you opening your mouth in shock. You could count on your fingers the number of times he'd laugh openly and without reserves

"Bloody hell, darling. You'll get me killed before smoking does! That thing must have been expired for years now!"

You shake your head in disbelief, faintly blushing at his words. You know he is teasing you, but that does not stop you from taking revenge as you start to plant messy pecks and kisses on his neck and cheeks. You eventually stop when your lips are once again inches apart from his, your breaths slowly mingling into a shared one

"Then I guess we are going down together"

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish - cherries and chapped lips

It all begins one cold morning when he leans in to kiss you goodbye before leaving for work

"Hold on! Johnny, you've got to do something about your chapped lips! You know what, let me get you a lip balm!"

He is quick to place a hand on your shoulder to stop you. His eyebrows are raised in disbelief and he has to do a double-take before words tumble out of his mouth

"Ain't no way I'm using such a thing, bonnie! Lip balms and such are made for wee lasses like you, not for demolition experts like me!"

You roll your eyes at his badly constructed argument and give him an unimpressed look when an idea pops into your mind.

"You stay right here, I'll be back in a jiffy!"

"What even is a jiffy?"

But you don't bother to answer as you head towards the bedroom, looking for the cherry-flavoured lip balm you bought specifically for the cold season. With precise movements, you apply a thick layer on your lips, smacking your lips to check if the cherry flavour is strong enough to linger. It fortunately is.

So you hurry into the hallway where Soap's waiting for you, hands on his hips as he angles his head in your direction. If he notices that your lips have just got shinier, he doesn't mention it

Instead, he leans in to properly kiss you goodbye this time, eyes comically widening when you deepen the kiss and make it last longer than usually

A small chuckle leaves his lips as you cup his cheeks in your hand and place a small kiss on the top of his nose

"How about we continue this when I come home?", he smiles at the ticklish sensation of your lips against his skin, the constant stinging of his own being forgotten for the moment

"Is that a promise, Sergeant?"

He has a hard time leaving home that day, the drive to the base being plagued by thoughts of you and how much you care for him. His lips have been chapped ever since spending the last two weeks on a mission that required him to be on constant watches in freezing temperatures. He eventually got used to it, the cracks and fissures becoming familiar from the countless times he dragged his tongue over lips, in a hopeless attempt to soothe the pain radiating from them

He does not realise that he is currently doing the same thing, his brain temporarily freezing as it detects a new, yet familiar aroma

Why do his lips taste like cherries?

He remains in the car, long after he's parked, his mind deep in thought as he runs his tongue over his lips once more, partially scared that he'll make the mysterious taste go away if he's too insistent. He does not see Ghost approaching his car from the back and actually flinches when he hears someone pounding on the window.

"D'you lock yourself in here, Johnny? The briefing's about to start in five and you haven't even geared up yet!"

"Bloody hell, you should really do something about your lips- they look like cracked desert earth or something…"

"Did not take you for a poet, L.T."

"Never said I was."

He is in the middle of the briefing when he figures out the source of the mystery taste. It all starts to make sense - the quick detour you had to take, the passionate kiss. He has to give it to you - you could do anything you put your mind to.

Because, besides the compelling taste, the chapstick you must have used started to have a soothing effect on his lips, the stinging becoming more bearable with every passing moment

He spends the rest of the day struggling to make the cherry flavour last longer, but it eventually fades out after he's forced to drink water. A small pout etches itself into his face and he starts to regret not listening to you.

The moment he comes home, he's in the bedroom, unscrewing the cap of every lip balm and smelling it before trying to place it back exactly as it was

You silently linger in the doorway, an amused smile creeping across your face as your fingers shift with the cherry-flavoured lip balm. Soap is so distracted by his covert operations task that he does not hear you trying to contain your chuckles.

"I believe you are looking for this?"

He is quick to snatch the small tube from your hands before bringing it closer to his nose and drawing a deep breath in. You shake your head in exasperation, a loud laugh escaping your lips as he clumsily tries to rub the chapstick across his lips.

"Love, you're doing it wrong! You might break it if you apply that much pressure!"

"Here, let me help you!"

Ends up insisting you order a batch just for him.

In just days, his lips go from cracked and fissured to soft and plump, perfect for the customary morning kiss

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick - vanilla and stained teeth

Combat training is fun and games until you are paired up with someone like Ghost, Soap, or Gaz and get your ass handed to you

Lucky you, today Gaz is the person who slams your back on the hard mattress and pins your hands above your head, interlocking your feet with his

Your mind replays the steamy events of last night and you can't help but give him a suggestive smirk which is quickly followed by a toothy grin upon seeing the blush that spreads on his face

He shakes his head in disbelief, not letting go of your arms or feet. Instead, he leans forward, cocks his head and openly stares at you

"Darling, you've got lipstick on your teeth!"

You comically widen your eyes and try to bring your hands to your mouth, struggling to escape his firm grip, but to no avail.

"'m n't s'ppos'd to we'r lipstick 't w'rk", you try to mumble with your mouth closed while your tongue is running over your teeth, looking for any traces of lipstick.

"Ok, has it gone now?", you open your mouth and practically bar your teeth at him, frowning at his unreadable expression. "Gaz- you're scaring m-"

Before you finish your sentence, he smashes his lips against yours and it takes all you have not to whimper when you feel his tongue repeatedly swiping over your teeth

Once he breaks up the kiss, he makes a show of checking you up, his thumb slowly tracing the outline of your lips

"Yeah, I think I got it all…"

You roll your eyes at the shit-eating grin he's sporting as he runs his tongue over his lips and freezes, his jaw going slack

"Why am I tasting vanilla? Are you tasting vanilla?"

You try to give him an answer, but before being able to say a word, his lips are back on yours and he is kissing you hard and long, his hold remaining as firm as before

"Alright, lovebirds - go get a room before I cite you for public indecency!"

Upon hearing Captain Price, your combat instincts kick back in and you manage to push Gaz off of you, switching position, so that you are atop him, pinning him to the ground

"Sorry, Captain! We'll go back to training!", you call out to him, offering him an apologetic smile which he accepts with a subtle nod.

"Next time you wear that lipstick, let a man know!"

"It screams you need someone to kiss it better"

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yawnderu · 3 months

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cw: creampie, threesome, deepthroat, hybrid!cat!reader

“Hell's fuckin' bells.” Johnny grunts out, his rough hold on your hips tightening up as his hips slam against your ass, your tail wrapped around his meaty, hairy thigh.

He loves your flexible body— how easily he can force you to arch your back, keeping your soft ass up as he pounds into you, his cock getting harder with each thrust, pushing your mouth down on Simon's thick, needy length.

Your hands come up to Simon's stomach, nails slowly digging into the scarred skin as you knead the thin layer of fat, unable to tell them how good you're feeling as Simon pushes your head down on his cock, deep moans leaving his lips.

“Needy fuckin' thing.” His head is thrown back as he feels your sharp nails digging into his stomach, the purrs leaving your throat send vibrations to his already sensitive cock, making it harder and harder to hold it in.

He can feel his muscles tensing up, thrusting into your slutty mouth a few times before he's emptying his balls down your throat with a low grunt, spurts of hot cum going right into your needy mouth. Johnny's hand is quick to wrap on your hair and pull you closer to him,

“Show the LT how much of a dirty slag ye are.” He groans out, voice husky with raw desire. Johnny's free hand goes to hold your jaw, forcing you to look at Simon while he rams into you at an unlawful pace, using your cunt as a fleshlight.

Simon stares back into your eyes, his brown eyes holding a mix of possessiveness and arousal. He can see the desperation in your eyes— the need for more, and it only fuels his own desire. He signals Johnny to let go of his rough hold, easily pulling you back into his burly arms, his warm hand scratching the back of your ear tenderly, a complete contract to the way Johnny is fucking into you from behind.

“Filthy little animal.” He whispers, his breath hot against your ear. Johnny's thrusts become more forceful, his hips slamming against your plush ass with unrestrained force, leaving both of you gasping for air.

It doesn't take long for you to cum, Simon's demeaning words and Johnny's rough fucking mixing together, making your brain hazier than ever. He continues to thrust into you relentlessly, riding out the waves of your climax before he reaches his. With a powerful, deep thrust, he shoots ropes of hot cum inside you, his hips grinding against yours as he marks you as his own.

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celestialwhoree · 2 months

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Can you please do an anemic reader on who her lack of red blood cells are getting worse enough that she has to be hospitalized?! And we have to see soaps reaction?!

OHH He shits his pants

It's a routine blood draw, nothing you're not used to. Just a cell count to make sure everything's working properly and that your supplements don't need to have their dosage increased.

"So this here is the red blood cells.." The nurse drones as you sit in one of the consultancy rooms of the local hospital, chin resting in the crook of your palm. "They're low enough that we'll need to keep you in for a couple of days for an iron transfusion and monitoring before and after."

"I'm sorry?" You choke, snapped from your reverie as you look at the nurse and your results paper she currently points at.

"It's really nothing to worry about. We'll keep a good eye on you, you'll probably be in for three days, tops." "No but I have work." The woman across from you looks frustrated at your resistance as she raises an eyebrow your way. "I'd really strongly advise you not to go back to work like this. It'll only exacerbate your condition." "Right. Fine. Can I just make a call quick? Get my boyfriend to swing by with some essentials." "This isn't prison. You can call who you like when you like."

You tap your foot anxiously on the linoleum floor of the hallway as the phone rings persistently, waiting for Johnny to pick up.

"Bonnie! How'd it go?" John's Scottish brogue still manages to send flutters to your tummy, even after three years of dating and just having received bad news.

"They're keeping me in for a few days." The anxiety in your voice is obvious, and John can practically picture you worrying at your bottom lip.

"Why? Wha' happened?" "Just a really low red blood cell count. They're going to monitor and do a transfusion on Wednesday. I was wondering if you could bring me some stuff? Toothbrush and pyjamas and whatnot?" "Course I'll bring ye a bag. Text me what ye need and I'll be there in a half hour." "Thank you Johnny." "You dinnae need to thank me. I love ye, bringin' a bag is nothing." "Well, thank you anyways."

Johnny must've sped with how quickly he gets to the hospital, conveniently sporting his tags on the outside of his khaki hoodie and a pair of military issue boots. If his charm isn't enough to wriggle the visiting hours around, his job most certainly is.

You give a little soft 'Hi' and he's already dropping a black duffel to his feet, scooping you up, trying to ease the tension from your back by rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades.

"Bought all yer things. Clean clothes, washbag, laptop, chargers." "You're an angel." "Am no, 'm just very worried for my woman."

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konigsblog · 3 months

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what would everyone prefer to be called in bed?

who would prefer things like "daddy" or "sir" vs their actual name?

könig likes to be called ‘sir’, ‘colonel’, or any name that gives him authority over you. when you're on your knees, all he wants to hear from that pretty mouth is soft chants, slobber and drool dripping from your lips, while the tip of his twitching, girthy cock throbs and oozes out his white, thick load. :(

“that’s right... you filthy thing, ja?” ... “my dear. who’s sir, baby?”

soap likes to be called by his name usually, but he doesn't mind when you occasionally let ‘daddy’ slip from your puffy lips. he'll let it slide, slapping your tight ass for each moan, while you sob into the bedsheets, mewling out at the stretch... his big cock pushed deep inside your tight hole!

“tha’s right, girlie... ‘m yer’ daddy, huh? aye... look at the mess yer’ makin’, pretty lassie.”

gaz likes to be called ‘handsome’, or any nickname that makes him feel hot and sexy, though he doesn't mind being called by his real name -- he loves the sound of it, when your voice is dripping and laced with euphoria. when he's sucking, lapping at your asshole, his tongue coating your hole in thick saliva and spit, drooling down your thighs and leaving indents on your hips from his grip. the soft mutters, or squeals driving him insane, making him feel sexy and hot as he eats your ass.

“aren’t‘cha pretty, doll? callin’ me handsome, god-- you make me feel hot things, dove.”

ghost likes to be called ‘sir’, that's it, and he expects nothing less from you. he expects to be called ‘sir’ whilst he's dragging his dick out of you, your soft pleads for more followed by a weak, quiet mutter of ‘sir.” he'll make sure you're screaming it, while he fucks you on his office desk.

“yeah--yeah, that’s fuckin’ right. ‘m you’r sir, ain’t that right, lovie?”

price, unsurprisingly (because i think a lot of people use this as a headcannon), likes to be called ‘daddy’, or any name that gives him a sense of authority over you and your pretty, gorgeous body. when he's sucking at your needy, wet clit, all he wants to hear is ‘daddy’ moaned loudly, echoing.

“oh-fuck! good girl... there we go, princess. listen to daddy, c’mon...”

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waves-against-a-cliff · 2 months

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The thing you did that made the 141 men think 'Im gonna marry them'

Content Warnings - Fluff. Sexual themes but no smut.

Gaz - It's cliche really. But he loves it when his partner can eat. Maybe not all the time, not all types of food. Maybe it's literally one specific thing you can eat pounds of. Whatever it is, he had taken you to a buffet and watched with hearts in his eyes as you devoured it. Not in a feederist kind of way but in a... Breeding sort of way. Doesn't matter if you lack the actual parts, can't get pregnant due to birth control or other outside forces. He thinks to himself, "I'm gonna marry them." Doesn't even realize hes thought it until he hears it in his head.

Price - He saw you rush across a busy street (he nearly had a heart attack) and stop traffic because you saw a pair of turtles trying to cross the street. Carefully you picked them up and placed them to where they were heading to. You even waved and said goodbye to them. Your kindness made him smile and chuckle. He realized then he wanted to marry you.

Soap - You were playing with his nieces and nephews at a family party. Chasing them around and playing their games. Laughing and sneaking some more dessert. He loves seeing you with kids, his eyes are on you all night and he thinks, "I'm gonna marry them."

Ghost - He took you axe throwing. He didn't expect you to be this good at it. The way it seemed so natural to you and how the axe embedded itself into the wall. You smiled up at him, a feral gleam in your eyes. He hands you another axe just to watch the way your arm muscles tense and to see the same look on your face when it hits its target. Spare strands of your hair stick to your slightly sweaty face and you comment about how much you like this. As he watches you wrench the axe from its spot, he can only think of how badly he wants to marry you.

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mlmxreader · 3 months

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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

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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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