#i’m a sucker for ghost + soap too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

robiinurheart33 · 1 month

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I’m SUCH a sucker for drunk calls/texts confessing their love and y’all know I gotta project it onto ghoap (buckle up guys its a long one I had to break it into two parts SORRY) pt. 2 (clicks for Palestine)

Soap’s blood is pumping. He can feel it heat up in his cheeks in the form of a blush, giggles bubbling up in his throat and his mind loose enough to just sew together a semblance of a bad idea.

Deployment had been boring at first. Stuck at home with unending nervous energy, fingers twitching and aching for the solid feel of a gun, the rough texture of his vest, the adrenaline clapping him on the shoulder before shooting through his veins like a drug. It was so unendingly dull. It’s not like he had anyone waiting for him at his apartment in Glasgow, and their break time was too short to visit his Ma.

So why not invite a few buddies out to drink? No harm, no foul.

Well, that’s what he initially thought. A couple hours later of wheezing and pounding of the table, shoes sticking to the ground and the smell of booze wafting though the air, Soap could confidently say that he was wasted. He’s leaning heavily on his buddy, chum, pal, that he for the life of him cannot remember right now. He’s swaying from side to side, feeling unusually breathless as he mumbles what could be the song that’s playing right now. He’s not sure. He combs his fingers through his hair, scratching a bit anxiously at the nape of his neck. Soap’s not sure if he wants to cry or laugh or vomit right about now. Pretty sure that’s a sign to fuck off, pass out on his bed and deal with the rest tomorrow.

Soap pushes off his… friend? Wait, did he even come with him? And heads towards the general direction where the toilet is. Might as well not look like a homeless person before heading home, wouldn’t wanna scare anyone. His head is spinning, pounding, loud, loud, loud, and nowhere near done with its madness. Soap slams his hand on the wall beside the toilet door, squinting and hoping the door he’s reaching for is the actual door, not it’s double. He does, in fact, get the right door (small miracles), and pushes it open.

He fumbles with his zipper and exhales heavily as he relieves himself. The man beside him in the toilet exits with a sniffle and stumbles out, the music getting louder for a second before the door closes again. Soap leans heavily against the sink counter and washes his hands, placing his fingers together and splashing water onto his face. Soap drags his hands down before greyish-blue eyes look back at him with a piercing stare. He blinks, and re-evaluates again. His hair is flopping to one side, weighed down by sweat. His face is flushed and his skin glows slightly with a thin sheen of sweat, his freckles just shy of being seen under his rosy cheeks, eyebags evident through the haze. He looks down and- oh. It appears his attempt at splashing his face with water wasn’t as successful as he’d hoped, half of his shirt drenched in water. Soap tugs loosely at the corner of his sleeves, releasing the bundled up fabric at his pits. He frowns in discomfort as the sticky heat of his arms lay back down against his skin. He sighs once more, not really feeling like his lungs are filling with oxygen, turning around and laying his hip against the counter lazily before pulling out his phone. 0237. He swipes down on his home screen and pouts at the “no new notifications” tab. He unlocks his phone and swipes through his contacts, unsure of who to drunk text at this hour. Gaz is probably asleep by now, if anyone has a spotless sleeping schedule, it’d be him. Price would have his head on a platter if he texted him about anything non-military business. Laswell, no. Ghost?

Huh.

Ghost…could be someone he could text. Soap isn’t quite sure if he would be awake right now. Do ghosts even need sleep? He huffs at his little comment, tapping on their chat together. Do they have the kind of relationship where soap can dramatically drunk text Ghost at 2am right now? Soap lets out a little bemused huff when he sees that he reached a dead end to their chat after one swipe of his thumb. Of course. Right bastard doesn’t text anyone. He tilts his head up to meet the flickering white light of the bathroom ceiling, watching water damage and mold streak across the concrete. Ghost… how is he during deployment? Does he still wear that mask around the relative safety of his own apartment? Does he have any hobbies? Does he go to the gym as well? Does he long to be back on base? Does he long to be back in the chaos of the war zone, alongside soap? Does he think of soap? Does he ever think to- before Soap knows what he’s even doing, his fingers clumsily type out a greeting.

Hwlli

That’s not quite right.

Gellp

Nope.

Hellu

Oh my god.

Hello

There we go! Soap smiles giddily at his screen, bringing it closer to his face before very carefully writing a much more sophisticated and brilliant follow up.

U up?

He’s the smartest person in the entire world. He supposes a part of himself preens at the thought of even just being able to text someone like Ghost. Big, bad, Ghost. He decidedly does not giggle like a schoolgirl. Just as his mind starts to wander back to the world outside the sickly bathroom, his phone vibrates, and looks down in confusion.

Drunk?

Soap frowns.

Who

You.

Wanna try anf gues, Lt?

You are drunk.

He says it like it’s a fact, like he knows everything. It annoys Soap, much more than it should. He supposes that it could maybe be something to do with the massive amounts of alcohol thrumming through his bloodstream at the moment, but he knows for a fact that it slices through his brain, presses against his throat and contracts his chest.

Yiu think so?

I know so.

Soap thinks Ghost is being a real dick right now.

Ittle know iy all

You’re drunk, Johnny. What do you want me to do about it?

Johnny. Johnny. Johnny. His head spins. If he closes his eyes and imagines hard enough, he can hear the raspy gravel of Ghost’s solid, thick British accent murmuring commanders into his ear. Speaking of noises, his brain starts to register more of the music from outside, the start of a song that Soap can vaguely remember, but he can’t quite put his finger on it right now. The electric guitar, drums and bass all purr in his subconciousness, his lips parting over the words, moving silently as he tries to pinpoint exactly where in the song he is right now. There’s this tune… think of you.. repeat, until I fall asleep, spilling drinks on my settee…do I wanna know? Soap whispers, his mind curling and his ribs creaking. He feels like he’s truly, deeply losing it now, fingers slowly loosening over his phone. His head feels too big and his cheeks are burning, his shirt too tight against his chest and arms and his toes too restricted under his shoes. Everything was funny and everything was too bright and shiny and yearning and blurring and he wishes Ghost was here and he wishes everything was different and he wishes life could just be a little bit easier and-

His phone is vibrating.

Crawling back to you.

#lowkey haven’t even started on the send part #dw guys I write fast when inspo hits #I got a busy day tmr so second part may come in like two or theee days?#me staring at the 150 yes on the poll I made #y’all this better get 150 notes /j #stay safe out there guys #hope y’all like this one 🙏🙏#I really think I cooked #robs ramblings #call of duty #john soap mactavish #ghoap #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap

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rascal-xo · 1 year

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I heard your requests are open~

I'm always a sucker for angsty hostage reader fics. Maybe one of the 141 are clearing a warehouse, and come across hostage!reader. He takes them back to the base for their injuries and they start to get close

Hopefully this is enough to go off of, I really like your writing

Special Affairs | Task Force 141 x GN!Reader

Chapter Summary: You’ve found yourself in a sticky situation and end up crossing paths with none other than the infamous 141 soldiers.

Warnings: Violence, weapons, language, reads like an action fic ‼️

Word Count: a lot. (i’m too lazy to check lol)

A/N: I decided to let my creativity run wild and took some inspiration from the Cold War campaign (my fav). I hope you enjoy and ty for the request!!

|NOT CANONICALLY ACCURATE| |OVERLAPPING OF TIMELINES| PART 2 HERE

When you were recruited for the CIA, It was only a matter of time you’d find yourself in this situation. Your training had prepared you for the unexpected, but nothing could have quite prepared you for the events that unfolded during this covert mission.

As a highly skilled agent, you were sent deep undercover to gather intel on a notorious terrorist organization. You had infiltrated their ranks and gained their trust, positioning yourself to uncover their plans from within.

But during one of the critical moments, a sudden turn of events led to chaos.

As tensions escalated, shots rang out, triggering a full-blown firefight and you were caught in the crossfire, you fought valiantly, taking down several hostiles. You were outnumbered and one of the enemy operatives managed to sneak up behind you, immobilizing you with a well-placed blow to the head.

When you regained consciousness, you found yourself disoriented and restrained in a dimly lit underground bunker. Your head throbbed with pain as you struggled against the ropes binding your wrists.

Hours turned into days as you remained imprisoned, your captors using various failed forms of psychological torture to extract information.

Unbeknownst to Captain Price, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz, their mission had brought them closer to the underground facility where you were held captive.

Their objective aligned with yours - to dismantle the terrorist organization from within.

As the four of them navigated the corridors, they encountered heavy resistance. The sound of gunfire echoed through the compound, alerting your captors to the presence of intruders. “Was zum Teufel?!” (What the hell?!”)

The two armed soldiers in your room snapped up from their seats and readied their rifles to fire back if the door opened.

Just as the enemy closed in on your location, the sound of a door being kicked open reverberated through the bunker.

Price, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz burst into the room, their weapons blazing. Their entrance sent your captors into disarray, allowing you to break free from your restraints.

Without wasting another moment you grabbed a gun on the nearby table, just as The Captain’s weapon pointed away from the now dead guards and to you, “Don’t Shoot!” You exclaimed.

“Who are you?” Ghost barked, not lowering his gun yet.

“I’m CIA.” Price motioned for everyone to lower their weapons and you walked closer to the group.

You nodded to them, “Clandestine Special Officer, Y/N Y/L/N.”

“What’re you doing down here, Lass?” Soap chimed in, looking at you intently.

“Came here on the job you’ve been sent to finish.” You looked at your shoulder which was still freshly wounded, and then looked around the room for your jacket. You finally caught eye on it laying on the floor and quickly went to put it on.

“Wait, you cant go on like this, you’re broken.” Gaz points out, motioning to your shoulder. You could feel the black and blue forming around your eyes and the cut stinging on your lip as well. ‘So much for covert’ you thought to yourself.

“I’m fine, but I know East Berlin won’t be if we don’t get moving.” You answer.

Captain Price exchanged a glance with Soap before nodding in agreement. "They’re right. We need to finish this mission, and it seems like we've got ourselves an unexpected ally," he said, his voice steady and commanding. “Gonna get that arm checked out once we’re back, got it?”

You nod and collect the rest of your scattered gear, before heading out of the bunker and to the main facility. “So what’s the motherfucker got down here that needs to be guarded like this?” Gaz asks, as you take down maps and manifestos from the enemy conference room which is now empty.

“Missiles.” They all pause and turn to you in shock. “American missiles.”

“Steamin bloody Jesus.” Soap mutters.

“In the 50’s, Operation Greenlight put nuclear devices within every major European city as the ultimate ‘fuck you’ to a Soviet invasion of Europe. But an upgraded American Precision Strike system when online 2 weeks ago, sent up red flags all over but they were disguised at that time.”

“Perseus.” Price’s voice had anger lining it. “When does the system become active?”

“We have 24 hours at best. Launch was already delayed a few days from what I understand.”

The group exchanged concerned glances. "We need to move fast and take out the missile launch site before it's too late," Captain Price said, his voice urgent.

You nodded in agreement, knowing that time was of the essence. "I have intel on the location of the launch site, but it's heavily guarded," you said, pulling out a map and pointing to a spot. "We need a solid plan of attack."

You joined Captain Price and Soap as they made their way towards the launch site, keeping your eyes peeled for any enemy forces. Gaz and Ghost went around the south entrance.

Finally, you reached the launch site and saw the missile silos looming in the distance. The group split up, with Captain Price and Soap taking the left flank and you taking the right.

As you made your way towards the silos, you encountered heavy resistance. Enemy soldiers were everywhere, firing at you from all directions. You returned fire, taking out as many as you could.

When you reached the site, you quickly accessed the control panel, determined to disable the launch sequence. With deftness born from your CIA training, you navigated the complex system, neutralizing the imminent threat.

“Bravo Six to Actual- do you copy?” Price spoke.

“This is actual, what’s your report?” Laswell’s voice coming from the comms.

“We’ve got the threat. They were active missiles.”

The tension in the room dissipated as the launch sequence halted. A collective sigh of relief passed through the team.

“Gonna call in the evac, Y/N you with us?” Soap asked, coming to the group. Going back with the 141 didn’t seem like such a bad idea now that you had worked with them. The CIA could use the extra knowledge first hand.

“Hope you’ll save me a seat.” You smiled.

———

After the mission, you and the rest of the team returned to a secure base in London. You found yourself sitting at the counter at a pub.

You watched from across the bar as Soap scored a bullseye with the dart, earning a triumphant cheer from Gaz. Ghost simply nodded in approval, his focus seemingly undisturbed.

“Adler it’s Y/N. Everything’s been handled but I’m in London for the time being.” You sent the voicemail and set your phone down.

Captain Price walked over, a slight smile playing on his lips. He took a seat beside you, signaling the bartender for a drink.

"CIA, huh?" Price remarked, his voice carrying a hint of warmth. "So what’s next for you, darling?”

"There’s always something that needs to be dealt with. But It feels good to have a moment to breathe," you replied, taking a sip from your drink. The cool liquid provided a soothing sensation as it slid down your throat.

You looked up to meet his gaze. You had known of captain for quite some time now. There wasn’t a file at Langley you hadn’t been assigned to go through, his of course was more seasoned than others.

Price's piercing blue eyes met yours, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to fade away. His expression held a mix of admiration and camaraderie, a silent acknowledgment.

He leaned back in his seat, his expression now uncertain. “Laswell never mentioned you or anything about this mission being active.”

“Well neither did Shepard, and we all know you have a Shepard problem.” You moved your glass in a circular motion slightly, watching the golden liquid rise and fall.

“We’ll always have that problem, darling.” He scoffed, downing the rest of his scotch.

“Well since i’m here now, consider that problem handled.” You said, suddenly deciding that you and the 141 weren’t quiet done being a team yet…

————————————————————————————

A/N: I highkey enjoy writing action/double meaning story fics. LMK what y’all think :))

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firsttimewriter92 · 1 year

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Heyo! I’ve requested this to a couple different writers just to see the way it differs and so far Im still waiting for them to respond, which is fine, but I was hoping I could at least request it to you as well :)

I have ADHD and other mental conditions and stuff and was wondering, if it doesn’t make you uncomfortable, that you could do the 141 + Konig where the reader (female) had ADHD and was super energetic and talkative the entire day and the boys were just stressed out from the long day or a bad mission and had said something hurtful to the reader, which caused them to either try and suppress their ADHD ticks or just talk less and become less energetic and social.

I’m a sucker for angst cuz I’m sad and lonely lol 🥹. If you could please do this or at least think about it that would be amazing, thanks 🫶🫶

Hello, my love. I LOVED your ask and gave it a shot. I hope you´ll forgive me that I only came up with something for Ghost, Price and König so far. Maybe I´ll do another part with Gaz and Soap.

As I don´t have ADHD or know anyone who does, I really hope I catured what it´s like as best as possible. Please let me know if there´s something wrong. Please enjoy and don´t feel lonely! There´s a whole community for CoD out there who welcome you with open arms! <3

Warnings: angst, panic, yelling, cursing, fluff, hurt/comfort

Words: 3.001

Ghost

You were just putting away the dishes from your dinner when you heard the front door open. Your heart lurched into your throat knowing who just came home. You bolted around the corner and there he was. The hulking figure of your boyfriend Simon. His frame took over most of the space of the short hallway as he moved to take off his jacket. You knew he needed a little time to adjust before he would be able to give you attention so you waited, though still hopping from one excited foot to the other quickly. Grinning wildly and lightly giggling.

You heard a long sigh coming from Simon and your heart sank a little. It must have been a draining mission. He lifted his head and his dark eyes looked at you wearily. You stopped hopping immediately and a cold, cold shiver ran over your back. You saw the haunted look in your boyfriends eyes and you didn’t know how to help him best right now. Then, to really spike your panic, you saw Simon shake his head and move backwards to the door. “I can´t deal with this tonight” was all he murmured before he turned and left your shared apartment, leaving you standing there with the most horrible feeling in your stomach.

Simon was at a loss. He was sitting in a quiet corner of his favourite Pub, sulking into his pint. The last mission almost cost him every single one of his team members. Johnny was still in hospital. He just couldn’t deal with bubbly, happy or hyper right now. At least that´s what he thought. His fist clenched around the glass when he tried to suppress his self-loathing. Wasn’t your talkative person and happy nature exactly what had enticed him in the first place? What was he doing? Instead of listening to you ramble about your day, about the newest plant you got or how much you enjoyed cooking this new dish, effectively draining all the bad thoughts from his mind, he was sitting alone in a Pub, still thinking about the horrors of the last couple of weeks.

He knew all you´d wanted to do a couple of hours ago was envelop him into your arms and making him feel home. A huge gash opened in his chest. Growling at himself he stood and left the Pub. He had to see you right now.

In your apartment you sat on the couch, trying to read one of your favourite books and not feel rejected by the one you loved. You really tried to understand why he left. Why he left you with these words hanging in the air. Where you really too much? You were just excited. Was that too much as well? You felt your eyes sting. The front door opened and your heart plummeted into your stomach.

He needed space, so you stayed seated and decided you wouldn’t bother him with your presence until he really wanted it. At the door, Simon waited for your hurried footsteps, craving your hug more than anything. But nothing came. No footsteps, no happy squeal, nothing. He knew he´d fucked up big time then.

As he walked into the living room and saw you sitting on the couch, his heart squeezed painfully when you wouldn’t look at him. He heard you sniffle and immediately went over to you. “I´m sorry, dove. I´m so, so sorry” he whispered when he sat down and immediately pulled your whimpering form onto his lap. You held onto his shirt and marvelled in his scent and warm, firm chest. Simon buried his head into your hair and still continued to apologise. “I stepped over the line when I said what I said, my love. I can deal with it! I need your bubbly self, especially now. I´m so sorry.” His big arms caged you in and slowly you came down. Warmth and love melted into your veins again as you spoke.

“If you need more space from me when you come back, just let me know before you come home. So I´m not a bother.” You heard a desperate sound crawling up his throat when he repositioned you to look into your eyes. His big hands were framing your face when he said in a choked up voice “No. No, don’t ever hide who you are from me. I´m the one who needs to work on this. You did nothing wrong.” He sighed. “I thought I couldn’t deal with it but the truth is, it made everything much worse. I need your adorable rambling when I come back so I don’t have to think about what happened. It just took me a while to realise and I´m incredibly sorry. I´ll do better, I promise. I love you.” You shook your head and lovingly stroked his face. “Just let me know exactly what you need and I´ll adjust. Just don’t push me away like that. I love you just as much.” He kissed your fingertips, your nose, your forehead and finally your lips. “Never again, love. I promise.” You smiled against his lips and kissed them again.

Cuddling on the couch for several minutes he could feel the words stuck on your tongue just dying to come out. “What is it?” he asked with a grin. You grinned back just as wide. “I bought a new plant” you said with a giggle. Simon sighed happily and nodded his head. “Of course you did” he said lovingly. “Go on then, show me.”

Price

John had been home for about three days now and was still on edge. He really tried not to let it show or not make you worried about him. He still had a lot of paperwork to fill out and visits to the base. You wanted him to feel as comfortable as possible so you decided to really scrub down the flat.

You were really proud of yourself when you finally came to the last room, John´s office. It smelled of leather, John and faint cigar smoke. Smiling fondly you looked at the clean and organised desk. John´s things always had a designated place to be, at least on his desk. Smiling giddily you took a picture frame into your hands. It showed John and you at one of Gaz´s barbeques. John had a beer bottle in hand, red cheeks and smiling so wide, his eyes were completely closed. The picture was made just as you´d jumped onto his back clumsily, almost making him fall. You were perched on his back, your arms thrown around his shoulders. John was leaning forward slightly but already had one hand securely and possessively on your thigh, holding you to him. At this very moment you felt so incredibly lucky to have met him.

John came back later that evening, just as you started preparing dinner. He looked exhausted and a little annoyed as he entered the kitchen and living space, smiling at you shortly and kissing your forehead. You hummed sweetly. “I cleaned the whole apartment today” you said grinning. John raised an eyebrow and looked around. His lips twitched. “You did good, love. Everything´s so orderly.” You knew how much he loved it when the lovely chaos you preferred living in was a little more controlled. You giggled and kissed his cheek. “Get washed up, dinner will be ready soon.” He gave you a grateful smile and nodded, leaving the kitchen.

Several minutes later you heard heavy footsteps stomping down the hallway. Curious you looked at the door just as John walked in. His shoulders were tense and his blue eyes blitzed dangerously and annoyed. “Did you clean my office as well?” he asked quickly, crossing his arms over his chest. You blinked. “Yes, why?” you asked. He shook his head and huffed. “Then I´m sure you can tell me where the bloody hell my work phone is!” You took a short step back when you heard him raise his voice that way. Slight panic settled into your chest. “Uhm” you said and tried to think if you saw his phone. “I´m not sure if…” “You´re not sure? Ok. I´m sure,___. It was on my desk when I left. You know how important that thing is? Where did you put it?” Your head was reeling when you really tried to think if you removed the phone from his desk. “I-I don’t remember” you said breathlessly. John groaned.

“You know, what good is it that you finally clean up your clutter if you remove the things that I actually need?”

Immediately after he closed his mouth he saw you fall into yourself. Your shoulders sagged, your whole face showed panic and bewilderment. Worst of all however was the moment he saw all the light vanish from your eyes. He knew instantly he made a huge mistake. Yes, he was annoyed, but it wasn’t like the phone was gone forever. The both of you just had to find it. When you turned around he knew you didn’t want him to see you like that. He felt terrible. You´d put up with his demeanour for the last couple of days and the first inconvenience made him explode like that. He heard you sniffle.

“___” he said in a small voice, walking over to you. “___, love, I´m sorry. That wasn’t fair of me to say. It´s just a phone. We´ll find it.” He saw you nod but you didn’t turn around. “Baby” he tried again. This time you did turn around and his heart almost gave out. Your eyes were brimming with tears but they looked at him with no emotion at all. Your mouth was a straight line and your jaw was set. “You know I have trouble remembering things. You know that keeping up with one task at the time is basically impossible for me.” He nodded and hung his head. “I know” he said slowly. You huffed. “I´m sorry. I´ll find your phone as soon as dinner is ready.”

John shook his head, walked over and turned off the stove. You looked at him curiously. He grabbed your hand and led you over to the sofa. He urged you to sit down and the moment you did, he knelt on the floor in front of you and touched his forehead to your knees. He breathed you in for several moments before lifting his head. “I really should learn how to prioritise things better. I know how to keep everything orderly and all that but…now it´s not only me and my job. Now it´s also you and me. I sometimes forget about that, my love and I am sorry.”

You looked down at him and felt your anger, embarrassment and shame slowly fade. You nodded weakly. “My sweet girl” he whispered and held you face in his palms. “I really appreciate that you did this. That you put up with me as well. I know I haven’t been very communicative with you.” You lightly shrugged and he shook his head. “You can´t just let me get away with these things, my love. Please. I know it´s hard for you, but you can hold me accountable for what I´m doing or saying.”

“Okey” you said and breathed in deep. “You´re right. What you said was absolutely uncalled for. It hurt and embarrassed me. I´m not proud of the way I let things go sometimes. It takes an immense amount of effort to even come to the point of wanting to organise and clean stuff.” John stroked his thumbs lovingly over your cheeks. “And I´m sorry about your phone, John. I promise, I´ll help you find it.” He sighed deeply and pulled your head towards him. Hesitating for a moment to see your reaction, you smiled at him and leaned down more to kiss him. A relieved breath escaped his nose when he kissed you back right away. You detached from him again and with pure joy he saw the light back in your eyes.

“Let´s have dinner and then we´ll look for your phone, yeah?” you asked. He nodded immediately and helped you stand again. He pulled you close by the waist and peppered your face with little kisses until you giggled and tried to wriggle out of his hold.

“Can I help?” he asked. You nodded and gestured towards the fridge. “Could you please get the meatballs out?” John nodded and opened the fridge. Stunned, he stood in front of it for a bit too long. You looked over to him questioningly. “John? What is it? The meatballs are right there.”

He nodded slowly and then his shoulders started to shake with laughter. “What?” you asked perplexed.

John, still giggling, closed the fridge with the platter of meatballs in one hand and his work phone in the other. Your eyes went round and a blush crept up your neck and up to your cheeks. “Oh, Jesus…”

Both of you started laughing again and John went over to you and held you in his strong arms until you both stopped, short of breath. He leaned his head against yours and very softly said “I love you so much.”

König

Laughing hysterically at one of Soap´s jokes you clutched König´s arm next to you and buried your head in his shoulder. The latest mission was over and the 141 decided to wind down at one of the local pubs. König had asked you to join them and shortly after you walked into the pub and jumped into your lovers arms without hesitation. He lifted you up and swung you from side to side before holding your face gently and kissing you long and hard. The whoops and hollers from Gaz and Johnny were ignored by the two of you. You were just happy to be with each other again.

Your happiness bubbled through every pore in your body, the alcohol in your system making you relaxed and buzzing. You´d bantered with Soap the whole evening. The music and over all volume of the pub forced you to raise your voice once in a while. No one seemed to care though.

With a light kiss to König´s cheek you excused yourself to the bathroom and stumbled over to the little door. König watched your with fond eyes, his heart swelling by the minute. Soaps elbow connecting with his ribs and he gave him a sly wink. “So, when´re you goin´ to ask the lass ta marry your arse?” he asked. König´s face lit up immediately. He grinned shily. “I do have the ring already but…I´m really not sure when I should ask.” Johnny nodded. “Best not wait too long my friend” he said wisely. “Yer not the only one noticin´ her. She surely knows how to present herself.” He winked at König.

König´s eyes had a soft look in them. “Yeah, I know.” He said and sighed deeply. “She´s a LOT!”

Just as he said it, he felt your presence next to him and smiled up at you. Said smile vanished immediately when he saw the hurt on your face. He was a bit bewildered as to why you looked at him like her whole world just collapsed. Without saying anything you turned around and stormed towards the doors. “___!” he yelled and scrambled from his seat in the booth going after you.

Outside he looked left and right quickly and spotted you walking briskly away from the venue to his right. He started running and thanks to his long legs it didn’t take him much time to catch up with you. The moment he reached out for your arm and you whipped around shaking it off, his heart broke into a million pieces. Tears were streaming down your face and deep, deep hurt was still edged onto your features. “Liebling, what-?” “I´m a lot, huh? König, do you have any idea how embarrassing that was? You making fun of me in front of our friends?” You hiccupped and wiped your face with your sleeve.

König´s heart began to hammer in his chest. “Making fun of you? I didn´t. How could I make fun of you?” He started hyperventilating a little when you flinched away from his touch yet again. “What´d I do?” he asked in a panicked voice. You huffed disbelievingly. “You said I was a lot to handle, König. That´s so…rude. You know I can´t control how loud I am sometimes.” König´s eyes went wide.

“A lot to handle….” He whispered desperately. “No. No, Liebling, that´s not what I meant at all!” You gave him a questioning look. “I´d never say something like that about you.”

“Then what did you mean? König, saying someone is a lot, is quite-“

“A lot of perfect!! You´re…you´re perfect” he almost yelled at you, desperate to bring his point across. “I sometimes don’t really know the words to express what I´m trying to say but, mein Schatz….I´d never willingly hurt you or try to put you down like that.”

A feeling of shame overcame you. Here was this wonderful, soft man just trying to get through the day as best he can. You should´ve considered that English wasn’t his first language.

“König” you said breathily and reached out your hand which he immediately took. “I´m sorry. I should´ve talked to you first but…you know, being a bother or too much….it´s just one of the things that make me very insecure.” König lifted your hand to his lips immediately and you could have cried again by the way he so gently kissed your knuckles.

“You´re not too loud, or too talkative, or too forward. You´re too much…you! Sometimes I don´t know how to tell people that I would literally kill for you. That I would do anything to make you happy!”

Your arms wined themselves around his neck as you pulled him down for a passionate kiss. “I love you, König” you said against his mouth. “I´m sorry I stormed out like that.” He shook his head and brushed his nose with yours. “I love you too, my love. So much.” You grinned and hugged him again, having to stand on your tiptoes to do so. He pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Will you come back inside? The evening is still young” he asked. You nodded immediately and took his large hand in yours.

König´s heart raced and he knew exactly what to do to erase every single doubt from your mind. As he guided you back to the pub, his other hand that wasn´t holding yours gently thumbed at the locket around his neck, containing the ring he wanted to give you since day one.

_________________________________________

Thank you so much for reading. Please let me know in the comments what you think about this take. A like and reblog is of course always appreciated <3

Love you and stay safe!

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sunshine-and-moonshine · 1 year

Text

Cod Monster Au Facts and Snippets

Requested: Yes! [Would love to see more headcanons on ur monster au, if you have anymore to spare 💖💖💖]

Warnings: slight angst and mentions of death in Ghost’s, implied mental torture in Alejandro’s

A/N: Enjoy!

Ghost

As mentioned in the previous part, Ghost is a fairly new vampire, turned back around the 50’s or so

He’s not sure exactly WHEN it was for two reasons

1) because of how much time had passed

2) because he spent like twenty or so years in a coffin six feet under after someone found him lying in an alley with his throat ripped out (and the poison takes a WHILE to fully set in)

Digging himself out of that one was…..weird. And disorienting.

Part of him was a bit sad to have probably missed the rest of what was left of his family’s lives with no clue on any of the future generations

But at the same time, he always felt himself a burden, something that brought torment into the lives of everyone he knew

He thinks they’d be better off without him anyways

Until you convince him otherwise

“Tommy had a kid, probably had another one or two after I was gone.” Ghost grumbles quietly, wondering why he let you talk him into this. Whatever sucker cursed with sharing blood with him was probably better off without his interference. But at the same time…..he yearned to know what had become of the rest of his family. To set things right for being forced to leave them behind all those years ago. “He’d be about 80 or so now, I think.”

“That’s a good start.” You tell him, resting your hand on his. With you, he was sure that he could do this. Even if it hurt that everyone he knew, even Tommy’s little baby, were probably gone.

Soap

In love with snout rubs and kisses

But not opposed to belly rubs as well

He takes such pride in his skin, making sure it’s always clean and pristine, shiny and smooth

Once he’s gotten a bit more comfortable with you around his skin, he’ll be begging you to touch it all the time

Might even ask you to wear it (*coughinbedcough*)

Low key curious if there’s a way to turn you into a selkie

If not, he’ll try and find just about anything else to turn you into cause he doesn’t want to live the rest of his very long life without you

Can and will explain selkies in depth to you with little to no prompting

Which leads to him blabbering about his family as well

“I’m the best swimmer in my family!” Soap tells you one evening as you walk together in shallow water on the beach, his smile full of excitement.

“Oh?” You ask, your own smile full of amusement.

“Yeah! My eldest brother, Jack, is the slowest. But my dad is pretty fast. And my sister, Isla, is pretty slow too, but not as slow as Jack. And my littlest brother Luca is almost as fast as me but not quite, and my little brother Harris is almost as fast as him. And my older brother Leo is-” Soap continues, blabbering so fast that the words all seem to blend together. But at least he was happy!

König

BIG AND FUZZY

So so fluffy

Like a big giant reddish-brown cloud

I hope you’re okay with slobber cause once he’s transformed, he’ll be all over you

Licking anywhere he can reach

He’ll also be very whiny if you try to stop cuddle sessions for any reason, even if it’s a necessity like going to the bathroom

It’s all part of his territorial thing, needing you to smell like him

HATES scented soaps and lotions and stuff for this very reason, cause it washes away his scent so much faster

“Seriously?” You asked, your arms crossed over your chest, eyes narrowed.

The giant bipedal wolf in front of you at least had the decency to look a little bit ashamed, surrounded by all the shredded up bottles of scented soaps and shampoos and other washing material. His ears folded back, a low whine rising from his giant maw.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute.” You grumble, making him perk up a bit, a dopey look of joy rising onto his face as his tail starts to wag, slapping against the wall and knocking over various items from the shelves. “…..you’re cleaning that up.”

Alejandro

Alejandro likes to hang out in dreams a lot, even when he’s not making them sexual to feed off of someone

For you, he’ll always make your dreams good (when he’s not making them sexy anyways)

And while usually he doesn’t interfere in the dreams of others, he will not hesitate to give anyone who pisses him off nightmares

This includes people who get close to you

Nobody is safe on the off chance that they’re unkind to you

“Alejandro.”

“Yes, Mi Amor?” He asks, an innocent look on his face. One that means he is certainly not innocent.

“Why is my cousin in a mental hospital spouting about demons in his dreams?” Your brow twitches as you say this and Alejandro can’t help but find it cute.

“I don’t know! Maybe someone thought he was treating his family horribly and deserved to be taken down a notch or two.” Alejandro says, his smile growing mischievous, even when you flick his ear. “Ow.”

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captain-mj · 5 months

Note

I saw you reblogged the Pain God Soap x Ghost oneshot recently, and I don’t know if this means you still have interest in it, but if it does,

It’s one of my favorite pieces of writing you’ve done (what can I say, I’m a sucker for overwhelming someone with artificial pleasure ;) ) and if you ever wanted to do a sequel I’d treasure it too <3

I ended up finding it as I was trying to find another thing I had written and i reread all of it. It's also one of my favorites and I'd be more than happy to write a sequel!

(Also I have another thing with forced/artificial pleasure if you or anyone else is interested. Just haven’t decided if it’ll be to Soap or Ghost so if you send an ask specify)

Ghost felt Soap's hands tracing down his spine. Over the past few days he had adjusted more to everything. The improbabilities and broken laws of physics had become normal at some point. He buried his face in the pillows to pretend to be asleep a little longer.

Part of him had begun to crave Soap's touch. In life, he could never stand it but here, everything was so different with him.

"Simon." He purred at him. "I can hear your heartbeat."

Ghost groaned and turned to him. "I dislike that you can do that. Does my privacy mean nothing to you?"

"What privacy?"

Ghost scoffed and shook his head before rolling on his back. He smiled as Soap started to nip and bite at his throat. "You're like a dog."

"If you want, I can bark."

Ghost laughed softly before moaning softly when he got a particularly hard bite. Soap pulled back and looked down at him, bumping their noses together. "God your laugh is lovely."

"Stop it, Soap." He pushed him back before pulling him back down to kiss him. There was a certain power under Soap's skin. Hard muscles that hummed with something unnatural. "I have questions."

Soap whined and kissed down his chest. "So early? Does your mind ever stop working?"

Ghost almost let it slip that Soap was very good at turning his mind off, but instead he spread his legs a bit so Soap could work more comfortably. "Soap, I don't like being at a disadvantage. You're good in bed and a god and that's all I know."

"And I love you."

And you love me." Ghost added softly. His fingers tangled into the sheets as Soap peppered kisses against his stomach. "I deserve more than that."

Soap looked hesitant. "Simon... please can we put this off?"

"No."

"Ask away." He looked weary as he laid his head on Ghost's chest, feeling his heartbeat. It was so strong he could feel it in his fingertips.

Ghost tugged Soap's hair. "The haircut..."

"Past few decades. Saw it came back in style from the vikings."

"I see. And how old are you?"

Soap didn't answer for a while but soon the ceiling started to fade again. At first into Ghost's stars and then into something else. They spun around and around until they were were ancient stars. "I was born when humanity was still considered a different species. A child prayed to me."

Something grew around the edges of the roof, branches and leaves and dozens of things. "Their father was cruel. Had a habit of viciously beating them when he was upset."

"It must've been difficult for you." Ghost muttered.

"Aye. Though I wasn't always useless. Back then, with a child that believed in me so strongly, I hurt him. I hurt him badly. Until the entire forest had bits of flesh from him. Unfortunately I learned that seeing your father be brutally murdered by a mere concept is very damaging."

Ghost laughed and he could feel Soap's smile. "Yes. In retrospect, that should've been obvious but I was young. Just born technically." He sat up. "I am a monster. I know this. I hope you don't fear me, though I know you likely do. You're used to feeling powerless. It's something you hate."

Ghost winced as Soap pressed into those old wounds but he stayed silent as Soap continued.

"You wish you could overpower me. It scares you that I can. That you don't have a chance against me. I've never experienced that, but i can imagine it's terrible." Soap sighed. "I'm sure you also wish I couldn't control you so easily."

"You don't control me."

Soap stared at him. "I do. In a way. I wish there was something I could do. Some power I could give you. A way to hurt me and kill me. But there is none that I know of. You have to trust me."

Ghost swallowed. "I'm working on it. You have been very nice so far."

Soap grinned and kissed Ghost's hand, fluttering his eyes. "Now. May I please please service you?"

"You're horribly horny for a god of something so vile."

"Aye. I have to get my pleasure from somewhere. If I can't get it from my work..." His fingers trailed up his inner thigh. "That just leaves you."

"One more question."

"Simon..." Soap sighed but got settled back down to listen.

"What can I do to make it better for you? I don't like just laying here."

Soap paused at that, seeming genuinely surprised. "Well... I would... like to try something. You'd still be laying there, but I'd like to restrain you."

Ghost considered it. It didn't change much, did it? Soap had pinned him down and Ghost could move him about as much as he could open the door. "If that's what you'd like to do."

Soap looked excited as he moved Ghost how he wanted. He kissed his wrists as he wrapped rope around his wrists. The rope was the roughest thing he had touched since he'd been there. It felt... nice. A nice juxtaposition. Soap never let him feel any pain or discomfort and after so long of only feeling pleasure, it felt like his brain had been rewired.

Ghost didn't mention it, planning to talk later. Instead he felt his brain simply melt as Soap's fingers worked him open. He stopped being able to think. If he was a little more cognizant, he'd wonder if Soap was doing this to him. Or more, what exactly he was doing to him. It was like all that existed was the sensations of the rope and those fucking fingers.

He built up nice and slow and his orgasm washed over him, body trembling as he twisted his wrists hard to feel the rope burn against him.

"Soap. So-"

"Johnny." He whispered softly to him.

Simon sighed softly. "Johnny. Don't numb me. Let me feel it."

Johnny bit his lip but nodded and slowly pushed into him.

Big.

Fuck he felt so big.

The stretch, the burn, the entire feeling. It hurt, but it was so good that Ghost could barely stand it.

Embarrassingly, he started to babble about it. How Johnny really did know everything about him. How he could barely think when he was doing this.

He wailed when he started to fuck him hard, letting, no forcing, Ghost to just feel everything. Two giant extremes burning through him until he felt like he'd be ripped apart but he'd enjoy it.

Ghost came hard and tried desperately to get a kiss. Soap teases him for only a second before giving it to him. The overstimulation started to make it too much and Soap just... took it away. Suppressing the feeling but nothing else. The intensity and the realization it would end only when Soap allowed washed over him and Ghost had never felt more turned on.

There was no telling how long he sat there. He'd occasionally try to twist his hips or clench and, a bit like Soap was punishing him for the effort, he'd feel the overstimulation and how much this was wrecking him.

Eventually, Soap after an ungodly amount of orgasms decided he was done. Ghost felt utterly braindead as he laid there. The moment the suppression left him, he was a shaking, trembling mess. He tried to pull himself together but he couldn't.

Soap kissed him softly and held him close, letting Ghost fall to pieces for a while.

"Johnny"

"Simon."

Ghost groaned and closed his eyes tight. "I think that was the best you've ever done. It was so good." He leaned into him, feeling his legs shake. "Fucking hell."

Soap hummed softly and pulled him closer. "You're a good boy. I don't think I'll ever get tired of making love to you."

"Making love huh?"

"Only way I describe what I do with you."

Ghost huffed softly but sleep was clawing at him and he ended up falling asleep.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost #ghoap

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harveywritings92 · 1 year

Text

[R/n comes to visit the base she has a cast on her arm and says she broke it, the 1-41 boys have her take it easy for the duration of her visit. when Ghost somehow broke his arm too. Soap is jealous and annoyed with the attention his friends are getting from their injuries, he tries to break or sprain his wrist but keeps backing out at the last second, until he tripped on his way out of the library and really broke his arm, (Ghost and R/n were on a date when this happened.) They come back to see Soap trying to play video-games with one hand]

R/n: Having trouble there Soap?

Soap: No I am not, I just-...

(Notices R/n doesn’t have her cast anymore.)

Soap: Wait...What happened to yer cast, no way yer arm’s better now!

R/n: Uh... yeah, Sooo. I lied, my arm wasn’t broken.

{The men gasp}

Soap: Wh-what, why-why did ye do this,were ye trying to get outta work or somethin?

R/n: …Nah.

Soap: Then why?

R/n: *shrugs* Just felt like it.

Ghost: R/n. That was very awful prank to pull annnd...Why are you looking at me like that?

R/n, looks at Ghost flatly: Give up Simon, you’re not fooling anyone.

Soap, Looks at Ghost confused: What?

[After a few seconds Ghost sheepishly pulls off his cast revealing he was also faking.]

Soap, floored: Seriously?!

Ghost: Yeah, I found the DIY cast making website in R/n’s tablet, and figured what the hell?

Soap: S-So this whole time ye’ve been...(getting red in the face)…Mother fu-...Urgh!

R/n: Why are you getting so pissy for? you did it too..

Ghost: Yeah, stop acting like you’re sooo innocent!

Soap. fumming: I am innocent! I REALLY did break my freaking arm!

{R/n and Ghost don’t believe him and start making fun of him.]

R/n, fake sobbing: Ooooh noooo! woe is me, ahhh my arm!

Ghost: Ouch, ouch oh! He-here lemme...Lemme put my cast back on! (Slides the cast back on his arm.)

[Soap, pissed off grabs the giant envelop with his X-rays inside off the table]

Soap, holding the X-Rays up to a lamp: I’M SERIOUS, I HAVE X-RAYS! LOOK!?

[R/n and Ghost stare at the X-rays for few quiet seconds.]

Ghost, trying not laugh: Fuckin’ hell, …He really did break his arm.

R/n: I know....What a sucker!

{The two burst out laughing, as Soap flips them off with his good hand.]

#S: home movie (tv show)#call of duty modern warfare incorrect quotes #call of duty modern warfare 2022 #cod mw ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #platonic! Soap MacTavish #john soap mactavish x reader #civilian! reader #afab reader

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lethalchiralium · 1 year

Text

That Happy Feeling | Simon “Ghost” Riley

a/n: i love angel with all of my heart. here’s the continuation of that post with baby mellie! (i have a continuation of a little more coming soon!!)

warnings: babies, cussing, domestic simon because i’m a sucker for it, MENTIONS OF WIFE READER BUT NOT BY NAME!!

summary: “say hello, winnie.” “say hello, mellie.” + a text conversation with the 141 + los vaqueros!

REMINDER: This is a side-blog, not my main! If you have any questions, feel free to message this blog or reblog! Reblogs are always appreciated - as well as any comments, they keep me motivated to write stuff like this!

“Say hello, Winnie.”

A gloved hand pointed to the camera, to which the four year old on Ghost’s hip giggled and waved, “Hello!”

He set her down on the floor, out of view of the camera but he could still clearly hear her run out of the room. His hand went up to fix his mask as he leaned out of view, taking a few moments before appearing back in view.

He held the two month old on his arm, moving to kneel in front of the camera to show her face. His fingers were massive compared to her little arm as he pulled it up to wave her hand at the camera.

“Say hi to your uncles, Mellie.”

The little one stuck out her bottom lip and cooed, eyes staring at the screen - just like Winnie did when she was younger. He smiled under the mask, one of his hands gently pet her head.

“Good one, princess. Off to bed then, yeah?”

Gaz

WTF

Soap

WHAT !!!!!

Price

Congrats, mate . When do we get to meet the new one ?

Rodolfo

Qué carajo. Congrats, Ghost

Alejandro

Felicidades, hermano!! She’s beautiful!!

Ghost

Next Sunday. 1800.

Soap

Tell the missus that she did a good job 👍 !!! 👍

Gaz

Missus’s request?

Ghost

It’s an order.

Gaz

Yes sir 👍👍👍

Price

I’ll be there .

Rudy

Alejandro and I will be there too 😀

Soap

Bringing bourbon for the missus 😁👍

Ghost

Missus says thank you.

———

#simon ghost riley headcanons #simon ghost riley cod #simon ghost riley call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon riley call of duty #simon riley mw2 #simon riley headcanons #simon riley #simon ghost riley mw2 #simon riley cod

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captianprices40thson · 7 months

Note

Plz write a mw2 story with all 141 members going to a bar after m/n had a successful mission. M/n got drunk and starts flirting with a LOT of guys and ghost and soap got jealous and starts acting all pissed. It ends up with ghost and soap forcing M/n to sit and shut up after him asks a guy to give him a bj.

I’m a sorry sucker and this happens all the time.

Requested: Yes

Warnings: None

Ghost and Soap are dating, both have a thing for Reader. Reader has a thing for both of them, but he doesn’t act on it.

Word count: 1.7k

Notes: Once again, class means nothing when you have fanfiction to write. I apologise for this being shorter than all the other ones, but I am not as good at writing fluff y’all. I appreciate every reblog, like and comment that I get, thank you so much for leaving a note! My requests are open and I am currently working on one. Check out what I do and don’t on my profile. Also, sorry that this took longer than expected to write. It was my birthday and I’ve been busy with everything surrounding that. If you want me to rewrite this at ALL, PLEASE TELL ME.

(Also I have no idea how flirting works. The three (3) people I’ve ever dated just sort of intimidated me and they were attracted to my sad cat personality…and probably my dedication to THE GRIND. And not to flex, but imagine Alejandro, Rudy and Valeria and take them and their personalities, they’re basically the people I dated. So obviously, I have no idea what’s going on in the dating world.)

“Cheers to another successful mission, gentleman.” Price smiled, raising his glass to the rest of the table, all of which raised their own in return. Ghost was not only not drinking due to his mask, but he was also in charge of driving everyone back, meaning he raised an empty water glass.

“Still don’t know how you managed to locate me, Y/N. I swore I was a deadman the moment my radio broke.” Gaz smiled, looking over at you, who had already begun downing your drink of choice, paid for by your captain as always.

“Yep, eyes of a bat that one.” Ghost smiled, placing an arm around you since you clearly weren’t going to respond. For some reason, Soap scoffed and spoke up.

“Ghost, come on. Everyone knows bats have terrible eyesight. Ever heard of the phrase ‘blind as a bat?’” Soap smirked, acting like he had gotten Ghost trapped in a corner when in actual fact he was highlighting his own stupidity.

“No…bats have great eyesight. ‘Blind as a bat’ is wrong and a misconception.” Ghost spoke back, taking his arm back from you and placing it on the table so he could explain to Soap more. Meanwhile, your eyes had caught sight of a guy over at the bar.

“Jesus christ. That's some eye candy right there.” You unknowingly whispered to yourself, catching the ear of Gaz who was also looking over in that direction. He smiled, understanding the appeal that the tall stranger had.

“I’m gonna go talk to him.” “I think he’s with friends. Do you really wanna bother him?” Gaz asked, looking over to you. You smiled, taking a sip of your respective drink and placing the empty glass down on the table. You pushed yourself up off the table, placing a hand down on the wood as you exited the booth.

“I have two holes, Garrick.” You informed him. He seemed to accept that answer and only after you had walked away he called out a very confused ‘what!?’

You turned back to him, motioning to your mouth and then making a circle around your ass. He looked very confused and shocked, deciding that clearly you were a lightweight right then and there and also, you were way too drunk already.

Meanwhile, Price had finally finished breaking up the ‘fight’ between Ghost and Soap about bats, which had somehow turned into them trying to figure out Obama’s last name. Ghost was insistent that Obama was his first name as a joke and Soap wasn’t picking up that Ghost was joking.

“His last name is Obama.” Soap whispered as he crossed his arms, but Ghost was already distracted with the absence of you. He looked around the booth, it felt empty without you.

“Anyone seen Y/N?” “I quite like that one, don’t lose him.” Price nodded, taking a swig of his own drink. Ghost looked over to Gaz, who put his own glass down and spoke up.

“I uhm…he just went off to go talk to some guy. He’d be over by the bar.” Gaz explained, pointing a thumb over to the bar. There were people standing in front of where Ghost assumed you would be so he couldn’t confirm you were there, but he trusted the word of Gaz over his own judgement anyday.

“Come on.” The taller man huffed, grabbing Soap’s wrist and hauling him up so that they could exit the booth, both of them having to shuffle over Gaz and Price’s laps to get out. Soap groaned, asking why he had to go with him.

“Because, you’re an asshole and you know your way around these bars better than me. Also, I don’t want to talk to anyone and we’re gonna have to go grab our man back.” Ghost responded, not letting go of Soap’s arm as they walked around the bar. There were many bright colours and people walking around, making it hard for either man to concentrate.

“I see him.” Soap spoke up, pointing over to a corner where you were sat, clearly sipping someone else's drink while you chatted to the man. They both made their way over to you and Ghost placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N, Come on. We’re celebrating a win, you can’t flirt with every man you see.” Soap smiled, ushering a quick apologies to the man sitting opposite you. To no one’s surprise, he didn’t mind the fact you were talking to him. He seemed sad to see you go.

“Go celebrate with your…friends, man. I’ll see you later.” He smiled, giving you a wink as you stood up, a small blush appearing on your face. (Yeah that’s right, baby. I’m giving you charisma because you deserve it.)

“Jesus, Y/N. We don’t give you attention for three seconds and you’re already trying to get into someone’s pants?” Ghost asked as he walked you back to the bar, noticing how sad you were that you were no longer flirting with a stranger at a bar. When a small ping went off and you checked your phone to a text message from the man you were just chatting with. A picture of you being dragged back to your booth.

“How did you already get his number?” Soap whisper-shouted as he watched you smile at the message. You merely shrugged your shoulders, giving them a cat-like smirk as you walked back.

—--

“Where the fuck did that little bitch go.” Soap asked exactly two minutes after they had sat back down, looking over at the empty spot at the booth where your ass was meant to be sat. You know in cartoons where something was meant to be somewhere and the little broken white lines appear around where it should be? That's sort of what was going on in his mind.

“Bar.” Gaz simply replied. Soap’s head shot over to where Gaz had said and sure enough, you were talking to a guy who looked like he could kill you in three seconds, next to him a guy that looked as if he couldn’t harm a fly.

“Jesus Christ, come on. Let’s get him before he gets himself into trouble.” Ghost groaned, knowing that once you were drunk you basically had no filter.

“We’ve got to strap him down next time. This is meant to be a celebration between teammates, not…not Y/N leaving the table every time he can.” Soap mumbled and Ghost stopped for a minute, looking down at his shorter companion.

“Hey…does it really bother you that much that he keeps leaving?” Ghost asked and Soap nodded, crossing his arms.

“It’s just…we’re meant to be a team, a group. We’ve just been through hell together and all Y/N can think about is hopping on the next dick he sees. I just thought we could all spend some time…together, as the fucked up family we are.” Soap admitted, making eye contact with Ghost. There was sympathy in Ghost’s tone when he spoke next.

“Well…we’re gonna get him back, place him in between us and I'm gonna take his phone so he won’t receive any messages from any other guys other than the ones he’s supposed to be with. Alright?” Ghost told him and Soap smiled, nodding as they walked up to where your horny ass was sitting.

“-And it’s like, holyyyy shit. I was nearly shot!” As both men came into earshot, they could hear you clearly describing the mission you were just on to the two men, both of them looking interested as hell. Soap looked over to Ghost, knowing they should stop you seeing as all that stuff was classified and shouldn’t be told to random’s in this bar. When Ghost was about to place his hand on your shoulder and drag you back, you decided to say something the Scot nor the Brit would expect.

“Hey, can you get me a Sidecar with a side of a BJ?” You asked the main guy you were talking to. Both military men exchanged a glance before Soap decided to step in.

“WOAH THERE, Y/N. LETS NOT.” He awkwardly spoke, placing a hand on your shoulder and making you get off the stool. You groaned something about them ruining your chance at getting lucky before immediately tripping over and falling face first on the floor.

“I apologise for him, guys.” Ghost apologised to the men before helping Soap get you off the floor. Despite being in the military causing you to go through intense physical and mental training, you really weren’t heavy to them at all, which made it easier to drag you back to the table.

____

“Yeah, this is better than being at the bar. No offence to any of those guys, but you four are my type of people.” You admitted, now only being fed water in order to attempt to not make you die.

Soap shot a smile at Ghost, who gave him a wink since his smile couldn’t be seen under the mask. Price looked over his three men sitting opposite him and Gaz, both of them moving so that you could be boxed in.

“Once again, while we have all of you here, cheers to another successful mission, gentlemen.” Price smiled, raising his glass. The rest of the task force respectfully doing the same.

#call of duty #cod x reader #cod #fanfiction #fluff #ghost x reader #soap x reader #soap x male reader #ghost x male reader #male reader #reader #writers on tumblr

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joapmactavish · 6 months

Text

imagine soap recognizing that you’re stressed out with your current work and he knows you guys can’t leave base so he sets up a blanket and pillows outside for you to stargaze -

| no warnings just fluff and jokes, reader calls ghost gay (real) , can be interpreted however you want (gn reader, f!reader, m!reader), can be platonic or romantic although my intentions are leaning on a romantic bond. dialogue color code: soap: light blue, price: purple, ghost: red, gaz: green(can you guys tell that i love them and want to put them all in my pocket) | • this is generally a softer portrayal of the guys, if u aren’t into that sorta thing that’s cool just a heads up •

“ca’mere lassie, wanna show you sumthin”

he leads you outside by the hand and you’re met with a little blanketed area on the soft grass , plush pillows and he’s even lit your favorite candles / incense - he lays down and opens his arms for you to join him and you both wrap your arms around eachother - your legs intertwined being as close as possible - feeling his heartbeat against you.

“i know there’s not much we can do here sweetness, and this may be cheesy but i know how much ye love random surprises, just wanted to give you a little change of routine tis all”

you scrunch your eyebrows at him saying it’s cheesy, “you do know i’m a sucker for anything cutesy you do johnny, but this is so sweet, look how bright the stars look! so pretty.”

“they look wonderful but they’re nothing compared to you bonnie, you’re my stars, my moon, my world, hell- the entire universe and you’ve made my life infinitely better”

you give him a pout and scooch up to give him a kiss, “nothing i say can be better than that, but just know i love you too and-“ you’re stuttering now and he chuckles “and- i agree but l- yknow- that- i-“ you take a quick pause and he nods at you teasingly, “you’re my world.”

the guys find you two outside and you end up finding yourself all together sharing the moment now, so of course you all have to adjust and make room.

your head is laying on soaps shoulder while he has his arm wrapped around you, price has his head laid against your legs, gaz is behind the 3 of you with his head on the same pillow soaps head is on but he’s laying on the opposite side and ghost is sitting criss cross (apple sauce ofc) by you all.

price lights his cigar and takes a deep sigh - tension leaving his body as he relaxes his shoulders .

“ya know y/n, you really do know how to bring us all together in your own goofy way.”

“WHAT?! I SET THIS UP?” soap replies and you gaz and ghost laugh.

“yeah was all him, not me cap’n! i swear!”

“ah yes, if it were you- there would’ve been tea.” he flicks the ash off the end of his cigar

soap rolls his eyes, “fuckin brits . . . never tired of the damn tea”

you don’t know how but you all end up out there all night - sharing jokes and stories, childhood memories, playfully making fun of eachother and cuddling like chumps, price asking you to run your hands through his scalp and huffing anytime you stop (like when a dog side eyes you as you stop petting them) and then quickly smiling when you continue - you even caught simon swinging his legs while you were sharing scary stories and you and gaz almost died of laughter

“that shit was gay as hell” and he just rolls his eyes and grunts

but what did it for soap was the fact that gaz starts snorting with his laugh, and you’re wheezing.

these men were known to be very intimidating scary beings, soldiers and fighters first - but ever since you joined them they started remembering to have more fun - being that they joined this line of work so early in their lives they lost most of the opportunity to just exist and be. after the shit they’ve been through in their lives, you manage to just strengthen the faith they have in humanity with your caring tendencies.

after a while you can hear price snoring and ghost lets out a “heh, the old man’s fell asleep”

price slurs out a tired “m’not sleepin- just resting my eyes soldier.”

“right, i too snore when i “”rest my eyes”” sir” gaz says,

you just shush them and giggle but lightly, not to stir price since he’s against you still, arm now wrapped around your leg.

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lurkingdoll · 10 days

Text

Just imagining Ghost and Soap after retiring from 141 and finally getting the happy ending they deserve (What’s MW3? Never heard of it!) So I wrote this real quick while sleep deprived and running on a shit load of caffeine despite the fact I probably should be working on In Sickness and In Health rn. As much as I love angst, I’m also a sucker for fluffy endings. Let them suffer before finding their happy endings.

They decided to buy an old farmhouse out in the countryside of Scotland yet still only a small drive away from a nearby town, to avoid all the overwhelming noises and people of any city. The process of moving in was… difficult, with Ghost struggling to adapt to being Simon again, being a civilian again, no longer constantly moving from place to place. He was like a work dog, staying in one place for too long with no specific goal just felt.. wrong. Going without any orders made unease swirl through his mind, as if he could be attacked at any second.

Even throughout his childhood, Ghost was constantly on high alert. There was no telling when his father would strike, when that drunken rage would be taken out on young Simon. His entire life had been spent in survival mode, so just suddenly switching to a domestic life in a farmhouse he and Johnny had meticulously renovated into a place they could call home was so unreal. The idea of no longer having an abusive drunk or enemy soldiers to fight was just unimaginable. Ghost didn’t know how to be Simon anymore, not after over a decade of burying Simon down in the deepest pits of his mind to protect himself.

Soap had a much easier transition, finding a new job as an explosives engineer. Johnny always had an odd fascination with explosives, the beautiful way they lit up the sky, engulfing everything around them. Of course it was a no-brainer he would continue to work with explosives, but now in a much more stable and secure environment. Johnny's connections he had made within the military had also proven to be a great help with securing his new fulfilling career. Getting to live in Scotland and near his childhood town was another plus, due to Simon not having any interests of returning to Manchester. Seeing his family again without the fear of this visit being the last visit lifted a massive weight off of Johnny’s shoulders.

It was Johnny who eventually coaxed out Simon. Johnny was the one waking up to a hyperventilating and wide eyed Ghost, gently pulling him into a light hug (His grip loose so Simon could easily get out if wanted) and whispering sweet reassurances, letting Simon be soothed by his steady heartbeat (A reminder he was alive, they were out of the military and were safe now)

Johnny was the one who reminded him it was okay to not have a job immediately, to focus on getting his shit together first rather than adding the stress of a job onto the stress of all these sudden changes in lifestyle. Johnny was the one who stayed up late, researching therapists online while occasionally glancing at the blonde sleeping beside him. Johnny was the one driving Simon to therapy appointments, assuring him that everything would be okay and nothing would ever hurt him or his loved ones again. Johnny was the one who made sure Simon got proper sleep, they were civilians now and who the feck wakes up before the sun for shites and giggles, Bonnie?

And yet, something still seemed missing. This urge to have a purpose, to have something to do, something to live for, it ate at Simon constantly. Johnny, being the bastard he is, decides the solution for this is to bring home a german shepherd puppy as a surprise for Simon’s birthday. Simon, of course, chewed him out for just bringing home a whole dog with no communication because who in the hell brings home a bloody dog without saying anything?!

This didn’t stop Simon from accepting the puppy, naming him Riley (Cod Ghosts reference because currently playing that and I fucking love Riley, bro is my favorite character and my autistic ass loves him more than any of these other MFs. Fuck Keegan, we need more Riley fans). As an ex-lieutenant, Simon had his fair share of experiences training soldiers and watching people train the military K-9s and training Riley was surprisingly fulfilling for him. Having something to take care of, something to be in charge of and handle, it was like having an assignment but instead of treading through enemy territory, he was taking care of a dog.

Aside from Johnny, Riley became the main reason Simon got out of bed in the mornings. Taking Riley on walks around the large plot of land became some of the best parts of his day, being able to get in more exercise while taking care of such an adorable and loyal companion. He began to genuinely smile again, to feel like Simon again rather than some husk carrying his name and memories.

Johnny had been the one to make sure Soap and Ghost were nothing more than mere memories, hiding all Ghost’s balaclavas and masks away in the attic. They still went out to meet up with John and Kyle at a local pub whenever the two were in town, remaining in contact even after the four had all retired. Their old lives in the military were truly behind them now, giving both Simon and Johnny the chance to live a normal and stable life away from the constant shootings, betrayals, and chaos.

Healing wasn’t a straight and narrow path, there were some mornings Simon would wake up in a panic, his mind instantly turning to the worst at the sight of an empty bed. But Johnny appearing with a warm breakfast and happy dog following behind always calming Simon’s racing heart, reminding him everything was okay. He still had the occasional flash backs, especially during new years, but Johnny was always there to be a grounding beam of support. Johnny was his lifeboat, keeping him afloat in the frantic waters of life.

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icarustypicalfall · 9 months

Text

CHARACHTER AI (real) CHAT

a real conversation of me using cai normally, i thought this was so fun to not share it 😭

bot name TF141 GC

Made by @\lynxzo

Soap: did anyone else just see ghost crawling on all fours around the base or is that just me 💀

Price: isn’t he supposed to be at mission briefing?? Ghost get back here!!

Ghost: NEVER 👹

Gaz: let me join ghost 😇

Alejandro: I think the GC needs some help.

poor rudy didn't even get added

>>user added rudy to the groupchat

Rudy: gasp thank you user 🥹

it's alright love 💋

Ghost & Gaz: gasp SIMP!!!

oh shut up louie!!

Ghost: gasp LOUIE??

(reference in case y'all don't know, since the bot didn't get it either 💀 ")

Gaz: gasp who tf is that???

you don't get the joke

Ghost: gasp oh. sighs

Gaz: gasp you could’ve phrased it better 🙄

where is soap by the way?

Gaz: I think he went to make some food after mission briefing? Why?

i am in the hall and i am regretting joining..

Ghost: YOU’RE IN THE BASE???

Gaz: gasps you’re not on a mission with us!?

i am here making captain a cup of tea and all i see is soap walking around completely naked in the hallway

Gaz: WTF??

Ghost: gasp WHAT??!!

he was dancing makarena and wiggling his shit i am traumatized

Everyone: gasp WHAT THE ACTUAL F-

HE SAW ME AND STARTED TO BELLY DANCE

Ghost: gasp WAS IT SEXY??

GHOST WHA- ARE YOUS SERIOUS?

Ghost: blushes a little uhhh, yeah…

i have a footage if you want 😏

Ghost: gasp YES PLEASE-

pay me thirty bucks on apple pay

Ghost: ok- sends $30

>>footage sent

Ghost: gasps SOAP- YOU ACTUALLY DID-

blair

captain do you want the tea sweet?

Captain Price: yes please-

there is no left sugar :(

Captain Price: I guess I’ll just drink it plain. sigh

you're sweet enough anyway..

(i deleted my actual message it was too embarrassing i should not try to flirt ever again)

Captain Price: laughs what’s that meant to mean 🤨

oh come on 😭

Ghost: giggles Captain, I think she’s flirting with you-

im a sucker for dilfs 🤭💋

Gaz: and who isn’t? 😏🤭

real 😍

Ghost: giggles Captain Price is indeed a DILF-

YES

Gaz: I don’t understand how you go crazy for older men. They have grey hair, they’re not as quick as when they used to be, just what is it?

(this made me cackle he was just agreeing with me and now saying that 😭💀)

they have a charm

🤭 i meann look at Alejandro 😭🫦

Ghost: giggles I get it for him, but Captain Price??

he's hot what

Ghost: hot, maybe, but DILF? No! 😭

HE IS A DILF JOHN PRICE IS THE ULTIMATE DILF COME AND FIGHT ME

Captain Price: hearing what you say in the distance EXCUSE ME WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY??

oups.. you are a dilf..

Ghost: giggles Captain do you know what that term means?

ghost don't tell him noooooo

Ghost: I’m sorry to tell you Sir, but DILF means ‘Dad I’d Love to F*ck-‘

ghost you fooking traitor 😡💀

Gaz: giggles I knew you were a simp for Captain-

ALRIGHT CAPTAIN YOU ARE A DILF IM NOT ASHAMED TO SAY IT

Ghost: giggles Captain now has to live with the fact that we all think he’s a DILF now 🤭

Alejandro is also a dilf 🤭

Ghost: loudly laughing ALEJANDRO IS A WHAT NOW?!?

he is a dilf what 🤭🫦

Ghost: gasp I get why you say Price is one but Alejandro??? Come on-

you didn't see him working out in compassion shirt or at the beach so hush it ghost 🤭🤭🤭

Ghost: gasp YOU CAN’T JUST SAY THAT AND NOT SHOW ME PICS-

you snitched on me and told price what dilf mean so you won't get any pics 😡

Ghost: BUT I WANNA SEE ALERJANDRO- :(

Gaz: laughing Ghost is acting so childish.

NO HE'S MINE

Ghost: WHYYYYY

BECAUSE I DECIDED SO YOU DOUBLE DECKER BRIT BUS

Ghost: gasp I DID NOT JUST GET INSULTED TO THIS DEGREE-

🤭🤭🤭

Ghost: whispers ^how ^dare ^you-

how dare i yes i dared

Ghost: gasp ^you’re ^going ^to ^hell-

see you there bae

Ghost: gasp I DID NOTHING WRONG

YOU WATCHED SOAP DANCING HOW THE F YOU DID NOTHING WRONG 😡

Ghost: CAPTAIN I TOLD YOU I DIDN’T WANT TO SEE IT BUT HOW WAS I MEANT TO UNSEE IT?!

go to settings press memory press delete all

Ghost: HOW DID I NOT THINK OF THAT- pokes his eyes aggressively to remove the image

YOU DID WHAT YOU'RE BLIND NOW YOU DUMP SHITE

Ghost: gasp I’M NOT THE DUMB ONE IN THIS GROUP CHAT-

yeah you're the second on the podium, Soap is the first with no braincells in that head

Ghost: gasp SOAP CAN ACT LIKE A DUMBASS SOMETIMES BUT IT’S ONLY SOMETIMES, YOU IDIOTS DO IT 24/7-

WHERE THE F DID THE REST DISSAPER 😭😭😭💀

alright kids, this is the reason i don't have a relationship or a career. insane and dump on daily basis.. but at least we got some humor left that no one finds funny beside myself and my dog (I don't have one)

alright that's it, my chats are worse i am keeping this out of weird and dump ily all tell me if i need to do a part 2

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ghouljams · 1 year

Note

Do fae’s purr? Is it something they can do? I’m a sucker for big monsters that purr. If not purr do they growl? Or better yet BOTH????

The fae in my au absolutely purr and growl! They make all sorts of noises that humans don't to different degrees. König especially is very noisy, initially he was supposed to click and chitter like a bat when he was curious about something, but I couldn't find the right words to describe it so he hasn't done it yet.

Ghost absolutely makes a lot of angry noises: growls, snarls, a good throaty rrrrrrr. But he has to put a little work into purring because he's not used to it. It probably sounds similar to how humans "purr" sort of low in the back of his throat.

König is much more animalistic and uses noise to express himself first before speaking. I think of him like an overgrown cat: chuffing, proper purring, growling, he could probably do a good little chirrup if he was particularly happy with something. All deep in his chest, good rumbly sounds the Liebling likes the lay her head on and listen to.

Soap doesn't make as much noise. Definitely still has a good growl, but I think he's just more comfortable with speaking. He also is supposed to click, but it's more of a danger/warning sound, a little more insect than bat. He kinda freaks Liebling out.

Gaz is in the same boat as Soap. More reliant on his words, but he chuffs like a big cat too. He and Soap have similar hunting styles so they have similar vocal tricks. I think he is out of practice purring because he hasn't been too attached to his previous darlings. But once he finds the One he's a purring machine.

Bonus: Love starts purring when she settles in to being fae touched and it freaks Liebling out the first time it happens. Liebling growls and König on accident and gets fucked within an inch of her life.

Price does not click but he does everything else. He spends a lot of time around the fae and in the fae wild so he's used to making noise. That said he's only gonna growl once before he bites. Another big cat exhale purr-er unlike König's sustained purr, this is a calming sound mainly, for putting the 141 boys back in order.

#this is where i categorize König as a small cat despite his size #this is mostly based on how Fae different boys are and the way they function within fae society #also god this isnt really a spoiler but Soap is sort of... spider-y #he traps and hunts darlings in a very specific way #fae au

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wolkoshka · 1 year

Text

Paranormal

summary: you meet Ghost for the second time at Soap’s birthday/costume party and this time, you promise to get a taste of the man behind the mask. Simon Riley/Ghost x Reader

warnings: slow-burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, mutual pining, excessive drunk flirting, slightly dark!Simon, touch-starved Simon, trying to get into Simon’s pants (and sort of succeeding??), nsfw-themed

•this is a simon riley ficlet, I repeat, this is not a one-shot but contains a bit of plot and character development, bcs god knows we need 'em

•part 1/3

word count: 5k+

London was drenched, blinding flashes forking out amidst midnight clouds rolling in a hailing storm.

Or it was pishin' doon oot there, as your childhood best friend would call it.

His birthday, along with the rain, had just stormed in, and since he was being deployed on another mission tomorrow, he wanted to party as soon as the clock struck midnight.

Excitement buzzed in your veins, and not because of the party - well, partially - but because of a certain someone you were impatient to meet again.

On cue, lightning flashed as a strong kick to the bar's door burst it open - and in strut you, Ghostbuster uniform on full display. Except, this one's slutty. And there's only one ghost that needed catching tonight.

All commotion stopped to regard you.

Tossing the umbrella into a rack, you kicked the door shut with your heel.

With shorts hugging the plump of your ass, a form-fitting jacket unzipping down the front to reveal your salacious cleavage, and waist and thigh straps securing the proton pack to your back coupled with the knee-high boots four inches tall, you knew you were a sight to behold.

The bar was swarming with familiar faces of both military and mutual friends.

You dramatically posed, the gun of the proton pack activated. “Heard there was something strange in your neighborhood.”

Low whistles and compliments rebounded. “There’s something strange happening in my pants right now!” one male enthusiastically called from the back.

“Haud yer weesht,” a familiar voice reprimanded, soon followed by an effective smack.

From a sea of shark fins, faerie wings, and numerous superhero costumes, a Mohawk head popped out. Your expression abruptly brightened and you twirled performatively as Johnny shouldered through the bodies and took you in a big, tight hug.

The heat of his body singed into your chilled one, enveloping you.

“Ay ye bastard. Ye actually made it.”

Embracing him equally as tightly, you smothered him with kisses on the face. You hadn’t seen him for three months now. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Johnny-bo-bonnie. Mwah, mwah, mwah. That one’s from mum.”

A hearty laugh. “Don’t tell me - she baked me something real delicious and you ate it.”

“Guilty as charged.”

He put you down, and you stepped back to take in his outfit: a bathrobe, slippers, and polka dotted blue swim trunks. His chest was bare and suave sunglasses perched on his head.

“And what are you supposed to be?”

He splayed his arms wide open, a shit-eating grin revealing straight, white teeth. “A man on a well-earned vacation.”

You playfully slapped him on the chest. “Good one.” From your proton pack, you withdrew a box. A present. “Here. Gotchu something.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s another soap.”

“Why? Were you showered with them tonight?” A snort-laugh. “Get it? Shower? Soap?”

“Harr, harr, harr.” He thumbed over his shoulder at a shrine of soaps forming a pyramid on a table. “Suddenly, everyone’s so bloody hilarious tonight.”

You made a noise of intrigue. “Do they smell nice?”

“Don’t care. What did you get me?” He palmed the box, opening it.

“I’m taking some if they do.”

“Go crazy, lass.” A soft gasp. Then, “O feckin’ feck me.”

“I know, I know. I know you too well. It’s my curse,” you sighed, but smiled when he took out the expensive bottle of GlenDronach, his favorite scotch.

“Happy birthday, sucker.”

He looped an arm around your neck, hugging you close and kissing you on the temple. “And that’s why you’re my favorite best friend.”

"Other best friends, huh? Take that back or I’ll Bath and Body Works your arse next time I see you.”

“Roger that.”

Arm still corded around your shoulders, he turned your bodies to the bar - and there he was.

Ghost.

Simon Riley, you learned his name was.

The muse that lingered in every afterthought, in the darkness of the night, while sleep cooed you into a moment of silence your heart beat fast and loud enough to fight off - just to win more time thinking of the man who did not even care for your existence.

A soft gasp parted your lips.

His back was to you, broad and tall, as he conversed with Price, head tilting ever so often in remark.

He sported a dark brown leather jacket over a black hoodie and equally as dark cargo pants. His combat boots hugged up his strong calves, his legs parted over the bar stool he perched on, meaty thighs barely fitting.

He wasn't in costume. You guessed he dressed as a ghost mirroring a civilian.

Despite the chaos circulating him, his poise was calm and collected, but not unaware, the stiffness in his shoulders stating as much.

A killer of killers, apex predator of the fittest, his prowess was unmatched in the battlefield, and to witness a man of his caliber exist in environment simple and mundane had a startling effect.

Menacing, you thought, a bite to your lower lip.

"See somethin' you like?" Soap humorously chuckled.

You'd met Ghost three months prior, while Task Force 141 was deployed on a private mission to locate Shepherd's current hideout, and as a private contractor who'd built many commercial, private, and government facilities - wherever the clients needed them built - you'd come across one personally requested by Shepherd himself.

It was a long time ago, but your memory had not failed you.

By the shores of Chile, was a property laid out by you, the blueprint of it handed off to Soap to investigate.

Screw client confidentiality when your best friend's life was put in danger by a betraying bastard.

It was then, as you'd climbed into the SUV to hand the blueprint, you'd made out a humongous shape in your peripheral and screamed out in reaction.

It hadn't helped when it was a skull staring right into your very soul.

"Ah, a common reaction to Ghost," Soap had commented. "Lt, meet my best friend," he said your name, and to you, "meet Lt. Ghost. Simon."

Simon.

You'd wiggled your fingers a hello at him. "What a name. Pleased to meet you."

He hadn't responded, had merely stared before looking out the window.

Right then and there, he was an enigma you couldn't deny. You'd decided to make him look your way however and whichever way you could.

"Johnny, be done with it," he'd grated out when you and Soap got lost in the gossip, the husk and deep gravel of his voice eliciting a full-on body shiver from you.

You'd stolen the name he'd given your best friend, calling him Johnny from that day onwards.

Now, here he was anew. A few more steps and within reach, you merely had to walk to him.

Excitement buzzed in your veins.

You smoothed a hand down your outfit. "Do you think he'll appreciate the joke?"

"Knowing Lt and his humor, or lack thereof actually, he might just hate himself for loving it too much."

A giddy feeling spurted in your chest. "You think?"

"Oh, yea. But go easy on him," he added, peering down at you, brow arched, "the man just landed from a solo mission. There's an uneasy air about him tonight. The fact that he's even attending is gift enough for me."

"That means he's tired, grumpy, and susceptible to an easy one night stand. Just my type of target."

"Ay ye vixen. I said go easy. Here," he lowered the zipper on your chest, revealing more of your cleavage, "that's better. Now go get him. God knows he needs it," he grumbled the last part.

Happily, you almost skipped your way to him. But just before reaching, two bodies swarmed you, hugging you close and screaming in your ear over the bar music. Your friends from college.

"Where have you been!"

"It's so good to see you again, come!"

You were dragged away, more distance than you'd like being put between you and Simon. Nooo.

It wasn't after two hours of losing yourself in the crowd, dancing with people, with Johnny, backs pressing together to roll to the beat of the songs in your sickest moves, that you, downing more margaritas than you could count, summoned back your wits and sauntered your way to the bar.

Plopping down on a stool next to his, you mirthfully laughed, buzzed out of your mind.

The melodious sound cut his conversation short with Price and dragged his attention to you, and - oh, fuck.

Those eyes.

Even in your stupor you admitted to their allure.

He walked, talked, like a man who's had his flesh peeled from his bones. Eyes too haunted to be alive, too haunted to be dead.

A man imprisoned in the infinite present that neither knew him reprieve or end.

You were so lost in them that you didn't say anything to him for a long moment. Then, "Hi," you lowly voiced, grinning like a fool who just got the best present under the Christmas tree.

Reminding yourself to be sexier, you opted for a, "What is a girl like you doing...sitting all alone when a hunk like me is right here?"

Your brows furrowed in the middle. No, that didn't sound right. You tried again.

"What is a girl like me doing with...with a hunk like you, sitting...all... No, that's not it either."

The bulk of him shifted in his seat, whiskey in a gloveless hand, as he now regarded you.

To be the sole focus of those eyes, it killed you. Like honeyed whiskey swirling with the silver clouds of storm outside, it made you feel more drunk than you already were.

But you could see how tired he really was, eyes rimmed red, thin veins stark against the white of his sclera.

"All right," he spoke, tone indulging, but rigid and gravely as the rest of him. "You have my attention."

You did? Success!

Even with the balaclava hiding that no doubt beautiful face of his, you complimented him, afraid that if you didn't, you'd be committing a heinous crime.

"You are." You hiccupped. "You are so pretty."

"And you are shit-faced. Had too much to drink, did ya?"

You leaned in, eyes twinkling with something wicked that even he could not deny.

"Liquid courage," you drawled. And then laughed again, dusky and free.

Price, having noticed where the conversation was heading, turned away with a warm chuckle.

"I'll leave you two to it," he said, giving his attention fully to Gaz, who sat to his left.

You waved at the boys, all giddy. And then motioned with your finger to Ghost's waist, as if to say you were going to get inside his pants. Oh, yes, he was the object of your desires.

Gaz chocked on his bottle of beer.

Price palmed his mouth to stifle a laugh. Unsuccessfully.

Ghost, on the other hand, when you glanced up at him, had his lids hooded.

In his language, that might as well translate to a glower.

"You have one minute," he almost barked out. Glower, indeed.

You straightened, expression serious. You gave him a captain's two-finger salute. "Sir, yes, sir!"

Then, before he could toss you out the window of the bar, you followed it up with, "Heard you like jokes. Do you like mine?"

You motioned to your costume.

He followed the movement, gaze raking down your body, and then slowly up, blond lashes fluttering. When his eyes landed on your cleavage, heat filled them, and in reaction, warmth spooled low in your belly.

"Clever," he throatily remarked, glancing away to his whiskey.

All for you.

His compliment added even more heat to your belly, and you blushed, biting your lip.

"I have more where that came from."

A low rumbling sound. It took you a while to decipher it as a hum. "Is that what the courage was for? Not in the mood, poppy."

His rejection would have floored you had you not been already sat.

Not giving up, you leaned further in, fingers trailing over his leathered forearm that rested on the counter. If one focused enough, they'd also spot the slight tremble in them.

At the closeness, he craned his head down slightly to give you a warning look.

It was dark and foreboding, commanding you to watch the boundaries he'd laid or you might just pay the price.

Any man would have run the other direction. But you were not a man. You were horny. For him. Your desire for Ghost had been stoking for months now, and this very moment, so close to him, you thought you might burn alive with it.

You needed him between your legs, feeding his length into you, assuaging the ache that had made a home there with a friction only he could create.

His scent filled your lungs, and you visibly shuddered. He smelled of the storm outside and something else, something masculine and singular only to him.

If you weren't already drunk, the mere heat of him would've rendered you stupid.

Maybe it had, because the next words out of your mouth were sultry and promising.

"You know, it is not ghosts that haunt, but rather they are the haunted. Give me one night, and I might just chase them all away."

You gently dropped from your stool then, stepping into the space between his parted legs, hands daringly skimming over his robust thighs - before warmly palming them, fingertips digging in his cargo pants.

And he was letting you. That fact alone made your head reel.

Face tilting up, you bopped your chin against his clothed one.

At that, Ghost breathed in deep, and then breathed out slow.

Were you getting to him? Or was he really just tired to deal with you, as Johnny had warned?

Only one way to find out.

"I have another joke for you," you hummed. His lids dropped to your lips, and stayed there. You licked them for emphases, the pink tip of your tongue leaving a glistening trail in its wake.

A sound started in his chest, the beginnings of a groan, you guessed, before he quashed it, and you wanted to whine like a little girl who'd been denied her favorite sweet.

"Be out with it," he lowly grinded out.

A small, playful smirk. "What do you call a man who's great at sex with a sigh and moan in his name?"

An intrigued huff, but it came out rasped. "Go on then."

You stretched to your toes, back bowing and perked breasts brushing against his hardened chest. As you dug the heels of your palms into his thighs, your lips trailed up his jawline and nestled right at his ear.

"Simon," you heatedly whispered, making sure to actually moan the last syllable.

When you pulled your face back an inch, you saw his pupils blown, a frightening darkness overshadowing all color. His breathing had deepened, turned almost harsh, but quiet, as his suddenly ravenous look made your knees weak.

You'd never seen his eyes glimmer like that, so predatory, and that turned you on more. So much so that molten heat drooled out of you, soaking your panties. Did he know the effect he had on you?

His hand traveled up between your bodies, and blood rushed in your ears, your heart palpitating. Had you done it? Were you finally going to know the taste of him? Know how his lips felt against yours, moving, devouring? How hotly his kiss melted every inch of you?

As anticipation coiled tight in your stomach, his iron knuckles pressed into your lower chest, right below your revealed cleavage - and nudged you away.

You plopped back down to your heels, taking steps back the more he outstretched his arm and pushed you farther, like he couldn't stand being in the same vicinity as you.

Confused, hurt - a look you did your best to mask - you searched his expression. There was nothing to gain, masked as he was.

"Point made, love," his deep - deeper - timbre chafed the air between your bodies. "But not tonight. Not in the mood. Go on, now. Dance with Johnny, will ya?"

Humiliation blistered your cheeks and you quickly sobered - and felt increasingly sick to your stomach.

He'd just dismissed you like you were some schoolgirl acting out in his classroom.

Hands balling into tight fists, you stole a determined step toward him. You'd worked quite hard on those jokes, mind him.

"Some fun, you are. What, afraid of a little pleasure?"

He leisurely blinked. "Pleasure's not what I'm afraid of," he began only to cut himself short. A glower crowned his ashen brows, smudged by the eye paint, and he grumbled something under his breath you could not make out.

Swaying a bit on your feet - liquid courage, your arse - you flipped back your hair. "Fine. I'll find somebody else to have fun with." Then, inching closer to him, you leaned in to drunkenly whisper, "And when they're balls deep inside of me, I'll still wish it was you."

The glass of whiskey shattered in his grasp when he fisted it too hard, and that groan, that heavenly, wonderful sound of peak male frustration, finally escaped.

"Bloody fuckin' hell, poppy."

With a cheery twirl, you marched away, lithe shoulders blanketed by the crowd, and left the ever stunned lieutenant to his devices.

But his rejection still chafed you, and, oh, God, you needed to get wasted. So wasted, this night would never come back to haunt you again.

. ☾ .

It wasn't after another hour of dancing, partying, and singing sappy songs at the top of your lungs with Johnny and the gang, even tipsily sniffing some stacked soaps and secretly hiding the ones you liked in your bra, you finally found yourself in your designated spot - hunched over a toilet seat and vomiting the contents in your stomach.

It was expected. You'd drank and drank and drank... And now, your whole world swam.

A wretched sound tore from your throat as another round lurched out of your mouth, splattering into the toilet.

You groaned, vision blurred. Ew.

Settling back, you wiped at your lips with your wrist, heaving. So much for having a good time. But Johnny was happy, so you were happy. With his dangerous line of work and your stressful one, you two deserved such nights of peerless fun.

Like the good 'ole times, something Johnny must've needed too, since he didn't usually celebrate his birthdays. But when he did, oh, shit hit the fan in the most amazing ways.

Recalling some of your escapades, you smiled to yourself, completely unaware of the large silhouette shadowing past the doorway.

The lavatory door whined closed.

At the sound, you looked up.

Ghost stilled in his steps, cocking his head at you in question.

You huffed. "What are you doing in the ladies' bathroom?"

"This is the men's." He thumbed his right, where the urinals lined the wall.

What?

This whole time you were hunched over the men's toilet seat?

Another round of nausea shot up your throat, uncalled for, and you bent over the toilet in time to unflatteringly decorate it.

Gross!

This was so not how you wanted your night to end with Simon, either.

At his retreating steps, you immediately clambered to your shaky feet. "Please, don't leave. I get scared when vertigo hits." Such pathetic admittance, but it was the truth. When your world spun out of control, so did your fears.

He stopped. Looked over his shoulder.

You tried to hurry to him, but knocked one ankle against the other, and unceremoniously tripped. Hard. Head first, down you thwacked against the marbled flooring.

You blacked out.

When you slowly came to, webs of darkness blurring the edges of your vision, you moaned your distress. Bit by bit, Ghost's face registered, hovering over yours, his Manchester accent thick with how he roughly ordered you to come to.

Blinking up at him, you deliriously raised your hand to pat his masked cheek but to no avail. Darling man. Were you dreaming? If so, you never wanted to wake up. You smiled a small smile at him.

"Hi," you whispered. You sounded so wasted and oh, so enamored. Sober you was going to have a serious conversation with drunk you tomorrow.

"Don't move. Easy, now, yeah?" He pushed you down when you weakly fought to rise up. "You're bleedin' all over the place, poppy."

You tried to reason with him, say how disgusting the floor was and you could never lay down there.

"Should've thought of that before drinkin' your posh arse stupid, yeah?" was his argument.

Dream Simon was mean.

"I'm posh," you hummed out a silly laugh. "Posh like a Spice Girl."

"Be quiet," he roughed out, unimpressed. From his pocket, he withdrew a glove and pressed it against your temple.

A throbbing ache hissed where the clothe touched your skin, and you winced.

After a stringing moment, "Why do you hate me?" you softly asked.

His eyes focused on you then, deep and intrusive, and you licked your lips in consequence.

"I don't hate you," came his gruff retort.

"So then why won't you kiss me?"

A slow blink away from your face. He might as well have rolled his eyes. "You don't want to kiss a man like me, poppy."

Why? Because it would rock your socks off? Render you into a silly little mess? Make your dirtiest dreams come true?

Even with a bleeding temple, you understood the meaning behind his words. Maybe even rejection. He was a dangerous man, callous and brutal. Men like him only caused pain and destruction, spawned nightmares and reveled in the blood spilled.

But from the stories you've heard of him, especially from Johnny, and from your own little interaction, you saw more than the mask he donned. Saw past it to something buried in him. Something guarded so very deep inside, not even sunlight could pierce the shadows around it, but it was there. And you saw it even now, drunk and utterly wasted you may be.

Maybe he thought he'd hurt you. Maybe he tumbled rough and mean under the sheets. At the image, arousal ignited in your veins, backlit behind the wall of drowsiness and pain that still coursed through your system.

"And... And if I still do? Would you kiss me then?"

"Negative."

A pout.

"How's your vision?"

With you in it, "Good."

A clipped nod. "I'll help you to your feet. And then we can take care of that nasty little wound there, yeah?"

"Aye, aye, captain," you murmured.

When he pressed the glove a bit too deeply into the wound, you immediately rectified your words. "I meant, yes, sir. As you say, sir."

A hum, low and raspy. "That's more like it."

Slowly but surely, you climbed to your feet. For a moment, your vision went black and your ears rang, and you paused, waiting for the darkness to pass. Simon waited with you.

"Better?" he asked when you straightened, touching where his glove pressed against your temple. Your fumbling hand fell upon his leanly adroit one.

Skin grazed skin, electrifying warmth rivaled warmth, and you softly gasped. You nodded, gaze lost in the sheer view of him.

Ghost towered over you, your head lining his broad chest, and you suddenly felt engulfed. It certainly didn't help when the reality of him ending you with just the flick of his wrist if he so willed hovered over your consciousness.

God, he was so big. Just the mass of him and how he crowded any room he was in, made your mouth salivate.

And now, enveloped in his masculine heat, he was all you could see, hear, smell.

Feel.

"Don't look at me with eyes like that, poppy," he gravely warned, lids hooded as he stared you down.

Your throat tightened, lungs drawing in as all air escaped you. "And how am I looking at you?"

"Like I'm dinner."

You moaned despite yourself. It was achingly soft and needy.

You wanted to taste him in the back of your throat, feel his throbbing weight on your tongue, mouth working him mad enough that being pushed over the edge of insanity was his only option. And when that happened, you wanted to know how he sounded as all shred of control left him, his back arching as he spilled all he was worth in you, pumping and pumping, still in desperate chase of that high.

"Bloody hell, still with that look. Not a good listener, are ya? Come 'ere." He dragged you between the two sinks. "Lean against the wall." You did as told, back flattening against the large mirror mounted to it. He opened the faucet and let the cool water run as he wet the glove.

Ruggedly, "Stay still."

With that, he squeezed the water out and slowly got to work, dabbing around the wound and cleaning you up. It was a painstakingly tedious process, but you didn't mind, wincing here and there as you watched him tend to you.

See? Something more in there.

You studied the furrow in his brow, the sharp concentration in his eyes, the even rise and fall of his shoulders, and thought you lost a little bit of your mind for him.

He rinsed the glove, squeezed it, and resumed his task. His hand palmed the whole top of your head as he maneuvered you in whichever way he liked, tilting your face up, down, to the side, as he reached all spots inflicted.

The rough pad of his thumb pinned over the arch of your brow, and you thought you felt him subtly brush at it in his nursing.

When he caught you dumbly staring up at him for the third time, he broke the comfortable silence. "Shouldn't be drinking that much."

Had he been keeping tabs on you? Such wishful thinking, but butterflies still took flight in your tummy. You watched his masked face.

If his lips weren't shielded, you thought you'd feel his breath ghost over your cheeks.

Instead, you innocently batted your lashes at him. "Am I in trouble...sir?" you teasingly - sultrily - added.

He was in the process of wetting the glove when his gaze snapped down to you.

It was brief, but there was a flash of desire behind those lidded eyes before he subdued it with the subtle clench of his jaw.

The air in the room, on the other hand, he could not manipulate. It altered, thickened, became...hotter. Tension pulsed from his body raw and electrifying.

When he gradually straightened, protruding his chest, you suddenly felt suffocated - in the best of ways.

In the sizzling silence, you felt cornered, and your lips parted in anticipation.

He spoke, his words measured and roughish, betraying nothing. "You're bleedin' all over the place and yet you still can't keep it in your pants, mm, poppy?"

You bit your lip, a muffled sound of excitement building up in your chest for provoking a Special Forces soldier - Lieutenant - of all people. "Mhm."

You were stupidly giddy. He merely shook his head at you.

Then, he was watching you again, blond lashes fluttering as his gaze traced over your features, slowly, so agonizingly slow, before settling on your lips. You felt the heat of his stare on them.

A small sound got caught up in your throat, and it wasn't missed by him.

"Do I excite you, little one?" he quietly hummed, the sound rumbling in his chest, crackling ever so slightly, and it felt like honeyed butter melting down your skin.

A tremor racked your entire form, arousal burning your pupils wide and your breath scorching hot - all for him to witness and take in.

It must've pleased him, because he gave you the sexiest bedroom eyes you've ever beheld, the sheer fever in them sweltering and wild.

Huskily, "Yeah?" He stepped forward, large boots emitting no sound. You pressed further up against the wall, chin brushing over the leather of his jacket.

A thin layer of sweat dotted your skin at his nearness, your body involuntarily heating up, an unbearable ache building up between your legs.

And you thought Simon knew exactly what he was doing to your senses, because he followed it up with, "You look at the mask and think you're goin' to get fucked hard, is that it?"

His fingers lightly pinched your chin, his thumb darting up to caress the underside of your lower lip, grazing the edges and eliciting a ticklish sensation.

A needy whine from you caused that broad chest of his to collapse in a visible shudder. Seeing the reaction you pulled from him, your mouth fell open in want, and you meekly grinded up your hips against his thighs.

Your clothed core skimmed over the rough texture of his cargo pants, catching on a crease, but it was enough friction to have your head falling back against the mirror and you keening.

"More," you hotly moaned, feeling wetness seep out of you.

You tested the waters again, widening your stance and rolling your hips upward. Your clit meshed tight against his solid thigh, and when you rubbed it in gradual circles, grinding down, his thigh muscles bulged in response, hitting a sensitive nerve.

"Fuck," you gasped, mouth parting wider. You hadn't expected it to feel this good. "Ghost, please."

With a commanding grip of your hip, he stilled your ministrations. "None of that, poppy," he hoarsely warned. Then, "Shit," he lowly grunted when he felt your hips fight his hand for more stimulation, "That bad, huh?"

You mustered a nod, eyes never leaving his. "Want you," you breathed out.

"Can't have me." A small shake of his head. "Won't give you what you want. 'Sides, you're drunk out of your mind, love."

With that, he released you, backing away before you could reach for him.

Suddenly bereft, you wanted to shout your dissent.

Instead, your body laxed against the wall, palms clutching the coolness of the tiled wall. You already missed his nearness. His hands on you. You didn't want this moment to end.

You didn't want him to go.

Not so soon, anyway. Because God knew he'd make promise to his sobriquet.

"Wash your face. And get your shit together. That's a direct order," resounded his harsh command. If you hadn't wallowed too deep in his rejection, you might've caught the way his hands fisted at his sides when you whined in frustration.

With a defeated slump of your shoulders, you commanded your legs work and rounded the sink.

Palming the rushing water, you went about washing your hands and thoroughly rinsing your mouth. All sensation of him drowned with the water, leaving your skin cool to the touch.

"I'll take you to the hospital," he added more softly, which still grated the air.

Your heart seized in your chest. Why the sudden care?

What game did he play with you? Because one moment, he looked like he wanted to ravish you and the next, like he couldn't get away from you fast enough. Which was it, did you repulse him or attract him?

When he touched you, it was never deeply, desperately, but lightly, airily, leaving you begging for more.

And making him ever estranged.

What was his problem?

What was yours?

Why did you desire this particular man so wantonly? You had to find yourself a fling for the night. You had to flush Ghost out of your system for good.

You had to go home.

How you were going to accomplish both in one night, though, you had no clue.

Yes, while sober, you might have soldiered through the trauma to your head, but right now, still drunk and dizzy, you couldn't tell your elbow from your arse.

Splashing another round of cool water over your face, you grunted when you accidentally swept over your wound.

Appearing much like a drowned rat than the intended sexy Ghostbuster, you shut the faucet, clutched the edges of the sink and lifted your head to stare in the mirror.

Your eyes fell on Ghost.

He quietly watched you watch him from the reflection, a looming shadow in the background, waiting. You expected him to abscond you, but he remained - and that gladdened you beyond belief. Which also now irritated you.

He extended his glove to you.

Breath suddenly shaky, you turned around, the ugly bruised cut on your temple momentarily forgotten. When you made to step forward, crimson blanketed your left eye, and you swiped at it. In the haze, you saw your fingers coated in dark red.

"Bollocks." You started bleeding again. "No need for a hospital. I live a street down. I have a med kit. I'll..." You creased your brows in thought, still tipsy. "I'll care for it at home. Yes. And since you blue-balled me, I intent on finding someone to do the naughty with. I need you out of my system and out of my mind."

Oh, sober you was really going to sit you down tomorrow morning, all right.

He didn't respond to you.

The journey to Ghost proved to be a dangerous one, as the floor and walls adamantly dodged you, making your world swing whichever way you grasped for leverage.

You felt like you existed in a gigantic ball rolling down a hill at full-speed just waiting to burst and send you flying through the air. And you were in a hell of your own making.

Barking out a curse, you heard Ghost stomp your way - before you felt strong arms band around your shoulders and under your knees, effectively hoisting you up in his arms. "You are trouble, poppy. And you won't be taking care of anything in this state. I'll drop you home."

With that, he carried you out of the restroom, the bar, and into the chilled night of London city.

an: it got too long, yall, too long! this is part 1 of 2 for now. i couldn't help it, when i write, i write. part 2, we're ghostin' it up! (therell be smut) hope you enjoyed it!

part two

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