#scottish pick up lines

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 1 ] || [ Chapter 3 ]

Pairing: Soap x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1K~ cw: a bit of dirty talking/innuendos Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 2: Johnny

“Oh, hello…” You remarked to yourself as your eyes locked into a stunning pair of blue eyes on your screen, stopping your mindless right-swipping. “...Johnny.”

“You’re 29… A soldier… Scottish… Are you friends with Kyle?” You mused playfully. “Let me guess, you’re a gym bro, aren’t you?” You asked sarcastically as you tapped your finger on the right side, skipping through his pictures. The first one immediately after was him lifting while wearing a weightlifting belt. “Yup… Mandatory gym pic.”

Chuckling to yourself, you snap a screenshot of his profile to the girls as well, sending it quick.

leah: @/mia Whatever good energy you sent its working. second hot guy in the last 5 minutes! mia: i lit a CANDLE for this!!!!! leah: there weren’t any handsome guys like this when i was on tinder?! 😫 UNFAIR. 🙄 you: blow it out then cause this is the 3rd actually. leah: 3rd??? Where’s number 2??? you: didn’t think to snap a screenshot. hasn’t matched me back yet. mia: has he posted a shirtless pic? you: kyle did and this one idk but probably. need to check. leah: Don’t forget to send it over.🥴

Shaking your head and laughing in amusement, you went back to Tinder, checking on ‘Johnny’. The mandatory gym pic was there… a couple of them in fact! And then the mandatory shirtless selfie. Or rather… The mandatory shirtless SELFIES. Plural.

Three of them… The first one was him just straight up wearing just a towel… And the next was him in a kilt… And the next was him with a button-up very much so unbuttoned. 

“Oh, my, Johnny-John-John… You sure know how to woo a bird…” You joked to yourself.

You dragged your finger down to check his bio and immediately frowned. “Of course…” You trailed off with a disappointed frown as you snuck another spring roll into your mouth.

He might be stupidly attractive, but his personality… Gosh, he doesn’t know how to sell himself. Boring, boring, boring. “I work out and like video games!” You quipped mockingly and scoffed a bit.

“Artist.” You remarked when you reached the last of his profile’s tags, spotting that word in the hobby section. “An artist? You?” You asked your phone screen as if Johnny would come alive in it and answer you. 

You’d admit, him calling himself an artist was intriguing enough, but normally that wouldn’t be enough to make you Swipe Right on him… But you’re not under normal circumstances. You promised your friends you’d Swipe Right on everyone so…

Your phone almost dropped out of your hand as soon as the ‘It’s a Match’ screen showed. “Of course… He’s probably swiping right on everyone as well…” Rolling your eyes, you go to click off the screen but accidentally enter DMs.

Johnny: ye have any scottish in you? you: not that i know of. Johnny: would ye like to? 🫦 Johnny: wait. wdym not that ye know of??? Johnny: i was trying to be filthy and now got me curious bonnie

“Fuckin’ hell…” You said as you set down your phone and covered your face before breaking into a fit of giggles.

The fact you had accidentally ruined his pick-up line and succeeded in stumping him got you very, very amused. Okay, maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as boring as you thought.

you: story for another time. you: i walked right into that one tho. good job. Johnny: no ye cant do that Johnny: gotta tell me all about it now you: i mean werent scottish people everywhere in the uk at one point? you: i might be 1/370232103484320th scottish. Johnny: would ye like some MORE scottish in ye then? 🫦 you: solid attempt again. you: if you keep trying you might just get there. Johnny: i intend to dont worry you: soooo… Johnny: so? you: were you wearing underwear under the kilt? Johnny: no Johnny: why want a peek? 😏 you: i’m good you: so ur an artist? Johnny: i am Johnny: ur fast at typing fuck you: what kind? you: keep up then! Johnny: drawing Johnny: im trying 🥴 you: can i see some? Johnny: hanging with my mates difficult to text fast 😤 Johnny: idk if ull be in the mood to see anything after im done with ye you: why? 🤨 Johnny: might be too tired and need to be cuddled to sleep 😏 you: oh fuck off. Johnny: u just cursed me out Johnny: i think m in love 😫 Johnny: gonna tell my mates i just met my spouse 🥴🥴 you: don’t give them any ideas. you: haven’t even agreed to meet up with you. you: haven’t been invited in the first place. Johnny: meet up with me 🙏 Johnny: meet up with me 🙏 Johnny: meet up with me 🙏 Johnny: meet up with me 🙏 Johnny: meet up with me 🙏

Your eyes widened at his enthusiasm and persistence. Okay, he was definitely not boring… It was actually kind of endearing and funny!

you: jc r u copypasting that? Johnny: yes Johnny: are ye going to or not you: can i get back to you on that? Johnny: ill wait for ye you: sure you do that johnny Johnny: ow the sarcasm burns

Concealing a chuckle, you clicked off the DMs page for the second time tonight… but, this time, you closed the app and focused on eating dinner.

Sure, this whole dating app thing was stupid, but at least you were enjoying yourself. 

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taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthoney , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe

#ikea writes 💚 #it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader

[ghcstao3]

Civilian Soap x Ghost

Ghost is in the Scottish Highlands for something, everyone else only knowing him as a visitor. He bumps into Soap a few times and is invited to stay for a round of drinks whenever he wants a break.

Something goes wrong and there is no safe house, so Ghost has to ask Soap if he can stay.

Ghost promptly gets a family meal to welcome him. He ends up being well clothed, shelted and fed as he slots perfectly into their dynamic. Rather close to Soap as the night goes on.

By the end of the stay Ghost is freely cuddling Soap on the couch like a happy cat and might as well be purring.

Ghost doesn’t exactly remember when or how he met John MacTavish, but in this moment, he’s never been more grateful.

Stranded in Middle-of-Nowhere, Scotland, with his only option for a safe house being barely less than 200km away when a low-stakes operation had somehow gone to shit, Ghost is sitting in a decrepit phone booth, praying for John to pick up his phone.

There’s finally a click on the other end of the line, as painfully early in the morning as it is, followed by a sleepy, “H’llo?”

“Johnny,” Ghost murmurs. His initial checks had told him he hadn’t been followed, but just in case. “It’s Simon.”

John seems to brighten up at this. “Simon! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I—“ Ghost grimaces beneath his mask. “I need a place to stay. But I can’t… tell you why.”

“‘S no biggie,” John says, then yawns. “Can you tell me where you are? I assume you need a ride.”

Ghost rattles off what he thinks is the location after squinting at some yellowing and torn flyers pasted on the sides of the booth, and for a long moment is met with silence.

He begins to worry the line’s gone dead when John exclaims, “Oh! That’s closer to my parents’ than my flat. I was actually goin’ up for a visit soon but I’m sure we can rearrange some things. I can be there in… say two hours?”

“Sure, yeah,” Ghost agrees before be can give it any more forethought. Because, yes it’s a place to stay—but with John’s parents?

He can almost hear John’s smile through the line. “Perfect. See you soon, Si.”

John hangs up, and Ghost puts the phone back on the hook with a sigh. Now, he waits.

And definitely doesn’t worry about meeting John’s parents more than he should. He’s friends with John—why should it matter? It’s not weird.

It’s not.

Ghost slumps against the side of the phone booth and lets his eyelids fall shut.

* * *

It had taken maybe two and half hours for John to arrive, but the drive to his parents’ is only forty or so minutes. John happily chats Ghost’s ear off the entire way, catching him up from the last time they’d talked, skillfully avoiding any mention of the situation Ghost is in.

John does his best to reassure Ghost over and over that he had talked to his parents, they’re fine with him staying however long he needs to until something more official comes along, and it helps a little.

Ghost still feels guilty for intruding.

But true to his word, John’s parents greet him with friendly smiles and welcoming words, ushering Ghost into their home with the familiarity of old friends—or perhaps even family.

The guilt does wear down little by little, as pleasant conversation is made, and, just as John had, no questions are asked about Ghost’s circumstances. Ghost wonders if that’s John’s doing, or if John had fed them some story just to avoid it. Either way, Ghost appreciates it.

He’d rather not think of his next steps for just a little while, as Price is surely piecing some of it together for him.

Ghost is made dinner later in the evening, and all three MacTavishes present insist there’s no issue in Ghost occupying John’s room for the night (he’d already promised to leave the next day, even if that means he winds up in a hotel instead).

He takes the couch anyway. He ignores the look John’s parents share when Ghost says, “It’s Johnny’s room, and I’m only here for one night,” ignores the blush that spans from John’s ears down his neck when they mouth ‘Johnny?’ in his direction.

And now, Ghost stands in the emptied out living room, just taking a moment to breathe. Because while he’s eternally grateful for the hospitality, he’s just a little worn out.

“You’re allowed to sit, you know.”

Attention pulled away from his thoughts, Ghost glances to John, who’s smiling crookedly as he holds an armful of pillows and a thick blanket. He dumps them on the sofa, plops himself down, and pats the seat beside him.

Ghost sits, and as he sinks into the cushions, realizes just how exhausted he is.

“You don’t have to tell me,” John is saying, “I mean, I know you can’t—but is this… was it a work thing that brought you here?”

Ghost hums an affirmative. His body is taking over before his mind can think twice, leaning over enough to rest his head on John’s shoulder. Tired, is all he can think. John laughs.

“There, there,” he teases. “Big scary military man’s a little sleepy, is he?”

Ghost swats at John with a mumbled shut up.

Civilian or not—there’s always been something different about him. With him.

John snorts. “Well, c’mere, then. Don’t be shy.”

Ghost complies easily, tucking further into John’s side like it’s second nature. Like it’s been months since he’s last seen the man.

Friends, is how Ghost has thus far labelled them. How Price would laugh his ass off hearing that.

At some point John begins to card his fingers through Ghost’s hair—he’s never worn the mask around him, never felt the need to—and between that moment and the next, Ghost is fast asleep, curled up with John like something a little more than just friends.

Fleetingly, Ghost thinks, just moments before his brain shuts off—I should visit him more.

#ask #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #writing

[gomzwrites]

Task force 141 found out about your soft spots | Part 2

Summary: Ever since they saw the softer part of you, the task force 141 has been trying to see more of them. a/n: This is a follow-up from the previous part! It can be read separately but part 1 gives more context :)  Also! The dividers were made by @gomzdraws (which is also me lol) apologies if I took too long! I'll have to admit I got a bit carried away with part :>

Tags: incorrect military terms, fluff, can be read as platonic or romantic, horrible attempt at Scottish accent(I gave up near the end xD), mention of dog bites, x gn!reader

PLEASE DO NOT RESHARE MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION

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Captain John Price

The two of you returned to base after just recently completing the mission; the target was secured and handled, and you rested in the general area as you looked through your phone again, updating your to-do list as you had stumbled upon the photo of the cute latter art previously. You stop and lean on the counter as you smile. It's so freaking cute, you think to yourself before a nudge takes your attention.

"Come", was all the captain said before you quickly followed along without questions. You’re always eager to follow any instructions he gives; maybe he needed to discuss the upcoming mission. But it’s obvious it's not going to be that as you sit in his car. Where are we going?

You ask curiously as you fasten the seat belt. The Captain only gives you a smile as he presses the gas pedal. "Just getting something to eat", he replies as you nod and relax into the chair. Well, it's nearing evening, and you are, in fact, quite hungry, so a small bite before dinner doesn’t sound too bad. It wasn’t long before you finally reached your destination. It’s a quiet town that has a few stalls and shops, and you walk alongside the captain until you stop before a small cafe, tucked nicely at the end of the street.

You look through the window as you watch the few people and barista chilling inside. It looks warm and cosy; there were soft fairy lights lining the pale yellowish wall with brown pillars supporting the structure. The captain gently places his hand around your back as he guides you to enter the cafe. You follow along as you take in the fresh smell of coffee and pastries and the sight of the small place. Price let you wander around for a while before taking a seat near the stairs, and a waiter quickly came as he greeted him. 

"Ah John! It's been a while; I see you brought company." The older man then hands you both the menu as he chuckles and bumps the captain’s shoulder. Price nods back as he glances back at you and says, "Pick anything you want, it’s on me", You give him a surprised look before you nod and take a look. You smile as you look through the list on the menu; it has a lot of cute drinks and desserts, so he saw. You thought to yourself as you ordered a latte; it's apparently their best-selling drink with the 3D cat milk foam on top of the drink. The waiter nods as he looks at Price, to whom he orders tea and some apple strudels. The waiter takes down the order on his notepad before promptly returning to the counter and preparing the orders.

How did you find this place? You ask the captain as you take in the surroundings again; it's a hidden gem, that’s for sure, and the prices on the menu were not bad as well.

"I knew this place because Oliver, the man who took our order just now, used to go to the same college", you hum as a reply and nod.

It's a nice place, and I can’t wait to try the drink, you reply back with a smile as your eyes twinkle with excitement. The captain chuckles as he nods. 

"Well, I didn’t take you as someone who likes these kinds of things, but it's a pleasant surprise, don’t worry. So I figured I'd bring you here." 

He raised an eyebrow out of amusement as he watched you blush slightly. You huffed out a puff of air before you replied sheepishly, 

Ah well, I guess cute things are my weakness after all; who would’ve guessed? 

"Just don't let the enemy know, and you’ll be fine", the captain jokes back as your drink arrives, and you immediately close your mouth as you watch the foam wiggle around when it was placed gently on the table. 

Oh my god, you whisper to yourself as you gasp and take in the sight, quickly taking your phone out and taking a picture. You glance back at Price with sparkling eyes as you tilt your head, giving him a "are you seeing this?" look as he chuckles and nods. He can feel the joy radiating from your face as you go ahead and stare at the drink, and the way you carefully turn the cup around to see the whole thing? Precious.  

He watches you take a sip. You close your eyes and give a nod as you savour the taste. Not only was the drink cute, but the flavour was perfect as well. You can smell the coffee's aroma and see how smooth the drink is. You didn’t realise when you had a bit of foam below your nose as you smiled back at the captain. Price couldn't help but laugh slightly as he took a tissue and wiped off the foam from your face. "Guessing you like it then?", you nod as you place down the cup and cover your mouth slightly to hide the pink blush that’s creeping up to your cheek. 

Yeah, it's not too bitter, and it tastes pretty rich. I like it. You reply as you watch him hum and take his strudel and tea. 

"Good, we can come here again next time". He says this as he gives you a warm grin and a wink.

John Soap MacTavish 

It was another week of training with the two military dogs, specifically Max and Judy, two German Shepherds who have been quite fond of you as they follow the training. Over the course of the regimen, you are supposed to reinforce essential handling techniques and carry out a few conditioning exercises like generalised commands. You may not be a military dog handler, but the training has definitely improved your skills to be one. Soap has joined you on a few training sessions and watches on the side as you smoothly handle the dogs, carrying out the essential steps and watching as the dogs follow you obediently. He finds it inspiring to see you train with the professional dog handler, Sergeant Sam, who has been offering a lot of help and tips. 

Today, Sergeant Sam guides you through controlled aggression training for Max, something the dog has had some trouble with for the past few days. Max has shown a good level of precision when commanded to attack a target, but its restraint technique still needs more practice, as Max tends to move before you give your words. You coo and guide Max as you carry out the demonstration, pointing at the volunteer as Max growls. You hold onto the leash firmly when Max tries to run towards the target, and you speak with a steady, calm voice as you patiently coo at the dog. 

Alright Max, steady. Not yet. Stay. 

Your voice hushed Max as it reduced his growl and made him stand on the ground, no longer pulling on the leash, and wait for your next command.

Okay, good boy Max, you don't forget to praise it immediately. This is one of the many bits of advice given by Sergeant Sam, it is said to give the dog motivation and let it know it’s doing the right thing if you praise its action immediately. 

You finally gave the signal after a while, and Max immediately went to jump and bite on the protective coat the volunteer was wearing, growling and displaying its aggression as you guided the dog. Sergeant Sam and you continue to practise a few more times with Max to properly train him to improve his restraining skills. 

After a few hours, you were finally given a break as you sat on the floor, sweating as you gently rubbed Max’s head. 

There you are, good boy Max~ So proud of you!

 You whisper to Max as you feel something poke your back. You glance back and smile as you watch Judy (the other military dog) wagging its tail and giving your cheek a lick. 

Ah! Judy, did you miss me? Hey now, who’s a good boy~?

You immediately shower Judy with attention and pat its head as you glance up to watch Soap approaching you. You wave to him as he stands at a distance. You watch his nervousness show as he rubs his neck and taps his foot repeatedly on the ground. You then stand up and order Max and Judy to sit and remain still on the floor as you walk to Soap. 

Sergeant Soap, good to see you. You greeted him with a smile as he relaxed slightly and smiled back at you. 

"Aye, I saw da training todae; it seems yer gettin better at this!", he said as he nervously glanced back at Max and Judy before staring back at you again. You nodded appreciatively as you chuckled and spoke. 

Yeah, Max and Judy have been behaving well, and the training with them is running smoothly. They remind me of my own dog back home, you say fondly as you watch him glance back at you with a surprised grin. 

"Wut? You owned a German Shepherd? That’s perfect, then, actually", You watch as he shuffles around his pocket as he holds out a bag of snacks; it’s Milk-Bone dog biscuits! You smile widely as he hands you the snack. 

"Well, I wanted to give it to ya as a wae to say thanks since yer took the job for me; you seem close to dogs anyhow; I hope I bought the right thing". Soap says as he laughs and pats your shoulder, "What’s the name?", He asks before you take out your phone and proudly show him photos of your own German Shepherd. It's big, and it has a golden sable pattern that shines ever so slightly under the sun. 

Named it Meatball because he always managed to steal some from the kitchen. He is my little ball of sunshine, you explain with a soft giggle as you show him more pictures, swiping the gallery before stopping on one where you were carrying Meatball with a struggling look, face scrunched up with a frown with a grin, you chuckle as you look back at Soap, 

He’s almost 5 years old now and still jumps and expects me to carry him around like a baby, even when he's 60 pounds! 

Soap laughs along as he stares at the photo. You looked so happy and content, and he likes how cheerful and giddy you are when you start talking about your dog. He’s still scared of dogs, but he felt like with you, he might be able to overcome that fear a little as he listens to your stories. 

I'm sorry for babbling so much, by the way. You stop halfway when you realise you’ve been talking for the past 10 minutes about your own dog, but Soap quickly shakes his head as he rests his hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring look as he speaks,

"No, no, go on. I love hearing yer talk about Meatball. He’s really cute!", Soap says as he gives you a nudge. "might even visit the fella with how sweet he sounds". Your eyes beamed when he suggested that,

Really? I mean, I don't want to force you to meet him if you’re still uncomfortable and all

Soap nods again as he gives a chuckle. 

"Well, I think I'm still a bit nervous, but it's something I want to try again, ya know?", You nod in understanding before you think for a moment and give a reply as you glance back at the military dogs. 

How about you start by warming up to Judy? Max is a bit bigger and more intimidating, but Judy is smaller, and he’s more obedient. Do you want to try it? Soap sucks in a breath as he contemplates for a few minutes before finally sighing as he nods slowly. You smile as you rest your hand on his thigh to soothe his nerves. 

It's okay; you’re with me. It will be alright. You say gently as you call for Judy to come around. Soap watches as Judy slowly makes its way towards you and Soap, his legs shuffling a bit as his muscles tense up when Judy comes and sits in front of you.

Be good. Soap is going to touch you, okay? You coo at Judy as the dog gives a nod and rests its head on your knee. You glance back at Soap as you hold his hand and speak.

You’re going to be okay; Judy won't bite, I promise. Soap nods with a gulp as he lets you take his hand and guide it to Judy’s head. You watch as he retracts his hand a bit when Judy tilts its head to stare at Soap. 

"y-y/n…" Soap says nervously before you pause and rub his hand in small circles, 

It's alright; take it slow and don't worry. You speak patiently as you watch Soap nod and take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. You don’t move and continue holding his hand in the air, and wait to let him take the initiative to move, and not long after that, he starts running his finger along the head of Judy’s fur cautiously. Judy remains still as it closes its eyes and wags its tail slightly. You give a small chuckle as you whisper back to Soap,

You’re alright; look, Judy likes you. You say as Soap relaxes more as he watches in awe, smiling slightly when he watches the dog press its furry chin onto your knees and melt into his touches. It’s certainly a much different response to what he imagined, and the memories of dogs biting into his legs and arms still haunt him sometimes. He can feel those sharp teeth sinking into his skin and drawing blood in those nightmares, but now? This dog he's touching is peacefully laying on your knee, not moving an inch as he strokes his fur softly with his palm, it's unnerving to him still, like he still expects the dog to bite him if he lets down his guard. But slowly, he gets more comfortable when he sees no signs of that happening, he also knows that if you're here with him, he'll be alright.

Soap glanced back at you as he held his gaze. "Thank you...", he said with a tone full of appreciation as you smiled back at him and nodded. 

No worries, I'm happy you’re able to come this far, you say back with a soft tone as the both of you just continue like this, chatting idly back and forth as Soap slowly strokes Judy’s fur. By the end of the conversation, Judy was resting its head on Soap’s tight, and Soap was no longer trembling as he rests his hand on its head.

Kyle Gaz Garrick

Ever since Gaz dropped off the bear in your room, you’ve been trying to reach out to him. But many times that has not happened because of the busy schedules, and it also doesn’t help that you’re not often teamed up with him. 

However, when you do see him, you make sure to give him a nod and an appreciative stare as he returns the same. You’ll admit you were not as close to Gaz when compared to Ghost, but ever since the IKEA trip, both of you have been trying to change that, even if it’s just a bit. Sometimes he brews you a cup of tea in the morning; other times you’ll secretly take on his paperwork when you notice those tired eye bags in the morning. 

But you wanted to return the favour with more than just these small gestures. You’ve thought about a lot of options; the first thing was perhaps to buy him a game of sorts. You heard from Soap before that Gaz is a gamer himself and owns a Switch. The problem is that you’re not aware of what kind of games he’s into, and asking those questions will raise suspicions. You have a rough idea that he might like action role-playing and multiplayer games like Elden Ring and World of Warcraft; sometimes you know Soap and Gaz will play Mario Kart because of how loud their laughter can be in their room. But you don’t like guessing and would rather get him something you’re absolutely sure he will like. The other thing you wanted to get him was perhaps a hat or a scarf, seeing as he likes wearing those. But you learned that he is very attached to his scarf, so buying him a new one didn’t seem right to you. As for the hat, you actually found a blue beanie that might look good on him, but you decided to save it for his birthday. After many sleepless nights of trying to figure out what on earth to give him, the opportunity finally presented itself one day. You just finished a mission with the team, and as the crew made their way back to base, you noticed how Gaz’s gloves were damaged; the thumb side was burned off, most likely due to the explosion previously. Gaz took notice of your gaze and gave you a smile.

"It's alright; the rest of it is still fine I can live with it." 

You give a nod as he turns around and speaks to Soap again, back to their usual banter as Gaz elbows Soap for not warning him when the bomb goes off. You secretly thank Soap for his recklessness because now you know exactly what to get him.

You tip-toed around the base during the late hours, being quiet and stepping cautiously on the floorboard to avoid generating any noise. You rest your hand along the wall as you walk before finally reaching the door. You glance around once and finally bend down to put down the little green box with a cute yellow ribbon. You smile softly to yourself as you stand up, only to yelp slightly when Gaz taps on your shoulder from the back. 

"Hey, erm, what are you sneaking around for?-", he stops as you quickly glance back as you nervously stand before the gift, shuffling it behind your feet as you shake your head. Gaz watches your demeanour before he smiles as he looks down, noticing a small gift box. "I didn’t know it was my birthday today", he jokes with that charming smile of his, chuckling softly as he tilts his hand and leans closer.

"You don’t have to be so shy around me. Come on", He bends down to pick up the box as he opens the door. You were about to leave before he stops as he looks at you, motioning to enter his room. You gulp as you nod and follow along, deciding to sit on his bed beside him. You have never entered any member’s room at this point, and you’re surprised at how cosy his room is. A few blankets here and there; he even has a few plushies himself! You get distracted by his place without realising he has already pulled off the ribbon and taken out the gift. You turn around and face him when he lets out a gasp.

"YOU DID NOT-"

Gaz said excitedly as he held a pair of Moto gloves, navy in colour with a dash of blue camouflage, lined with hard leather that protects the knuckles. You watch as his eyes shine and he smiles so big that you can see his prominent canine teeth protruding, silently satisfied with yourself when he thanks you for the gift.

I've been wanting to return the favour since you got me the bear.

You say softly as he nods and tests out the glove. It’s a perfect fit as he feels the texture and size.

"This is amazing! I love it. Thank you so much", He thanks you again as he gives your head a pat. Both of you decided to stay for a while and chat idly after that.

Simon Ghost Riley

You were awake the entire night, blinking and shuffling around your bed as you sighed deeply. 

Another sleepless night 

You thought to yourself as you pressed a pillow to your own face. You usually have trouble sleeping sometimes—more than you would like to admit. Whether it's because of the stress that lingers after missions or because of nightmares, They plague your nights without mercy. 

You groan and sit up as you stare at the clock. 

It's about 5 a.m. already, and I still can’t sleep. 

You grumble to yourself as you stand and stretch, pissed that you can’t even enjoy a day off without getting a good night's sleep. You decided to run some laps around the field to tyre yourself out and nap afterwards. 

And you did just that, running around the field for the past half an hour already, yet somehow you can feel that you’re more awake than usual. You know you’re physically tired, but your mental state refuses to calm down and screams at you. You sat on the ground hopelessly before lying on it, staring up at the sky as you let out a long, defeated sigh as you let out a few more grumble.

"Good morning, y/n" comes a voice as you glance to your left, recognising it as you divert your gaze from his shoe to his mask.

Good morning, Lieutenant Ghost, You reply back as you sit up and frown, slightly embarrassed that he saw you like this. 

"Grabbing coffee for them, coming along?" He asks as he shakes the car key in his left hand, his other resting in the pocket of his black hoodie. You nod as you stand up by yourself and brush away the dust as both of you head to the jeep.

You’ve done this routine before with Ghost, sometimes doing it yourself. The group likes to take turns buying coffee and breakfast every weekend near the base; even the barista and workers have already recognised you guys at this point. 

"Ah, it's you, 3 black coffees and 2 Earl Greys as per usual, yes?" Ghost nods to the shorter barista as she promptly prepares the drinks. You stood beside Ghost as you glanced around when you waited for the order before catching your sight on the fridge that displayed pastries and other small bites. 

swiss roll!! 

You take notice of the delicacy as you step closer to the glass. They rarely have cakes, at least whenever you come to visit anyway; mostly they display croissants or sandwiches, and you have to admit that the swiss roll they sell looks pretty good and tempting. 

Matcha, strawberry, vanilla, and chocolate

You take a close look at all the options as you stare excitedly. Ghost watches as he stands closer and bumps your shoulder. 

"Chocolate is good."

He whispers into your ears as you blush slightly at the sudden closeness and glance back at him. You nod as you stare back at that specific swiss roll. It even has what you assume is chocolate whipped cream with a small cherry on top. You whisper back softly as you grab his sleeve timidly. 

Can I try the cake with you?

You know you can finish this cake yourself, but you wanted to share it with him since he suggested it in the first place. 

Ghost blinks before nodding as he pats your hand, ordering the chocolate swiss roll as you smile and happily take a seat in the corner of the cafe. You watch as he brings the plate and sets it on the table. He hands you a fork as he watches you poke through the cake and take a bite.

!!! 

Your eyes beam as your face lights up when you have a taste; the soft, spongy chocolate cake is perfect, and paired with the chocolate whipped cream? It tasted like heaven. Ghost chuckles as he watches you take another bite. 

"Told ya"

You nod as you glance back at him with a giddy smile. You were right. You say as you take a much bigger part of the cake and hand the fork to him, and he nods as he pulls his balaclava to eat the cake, making sure he watches you from the corner of his eyes as he eats it. He likes seeing you take in the sight of him shamelessly, even if it's just his jaw and lips. He liked how you always stare and trail along the faint scar he has around the chin; it's as if you’re mapping him out and memorising his features. He gives a hum of approval as he finishes the bite and hands you back the fork, urging you to take more as you shake your head. 

"It's okay, kid, I’ve tried this cake before already. Eat."

He says this as you frown slightly and nod along, then enjoy the cake again as your brows slowly relax. He smiles as he continues to watch you eat; he knows that you’re always eager and tend to be more compassionate than the other members, even if you don't show it. Gestures like how you always save a seat for him in the planes beside Soap, or how you silently wipe and clean Soap’s guns after missions, or how you always helped Gaz with reports, and you always brew a cup of coffee for Captain when he needs it, your actions doesn't go unnoticed by him. 

Do you have a sweet tooth? 

The question caught him off guard as he watch your eye. He took a few moments to ground himself before nodding. He watched the glint of amusement in your eyes as you smiled and leaned in to ask another question. 

Then what’s your favourite dessert? 

He smiles at your question as he leans in and rests his arm on the table as he stares back at you. 

"Chocolate, if that wasn’t obvious enough already."

You chuckle as you shake your head and slightly poke his muscular arm. 

Yeah, I have an idea, obviously, but you know, like, what kind? Like chocolate bars? Cocoa drinks? Chocolate brownies? You know what I mean, you list out the example as you bite on the fork. 

He chuckles as he goes on and answers back, then you shoot another question and the process repeats. They may be small and mundane questions, but moments like this make him feel human again, to remind him that he is not just a war machine in this world, that he too has cravings and such, plus it also feels like you get to know him better, and perhaps this friendship can flourish more.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= a/n: am I biased towards Gaz? yes, yes I am(and yeah the gloves are from CSGO lol), like and reposts are appreciated! Have a good day/night! <3

#cod #cod x reader #cod imagines #cod mwii #cod mw2 #mw2 imagine #mw2 x reader #mw2 fanfic #cod fanfic #call of duty x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #gomzwrites

[cod-dump]

"And Ghost, unfortunately for him and fortunate for Graves, was a sucker for a well made hoodie."

Now I'm picturing Ghost with a wardrobe full of comfort hoodies. Everyone thinks he just wears the same one day in day out but he actually has 12 near-identical black ones.

Cold-weather hoodie: fleecy lining, fits comfortably under a jacket without bunching up

Warm-weather hoodie: thinner fabric, front zipper can be left open for extra ventilation

Workout hoodie: ripped the sleeves off

Errands hoodie: slightly longer sleeves that he can pull down over his hands to keep the bags from cutting into his fingers

Going out hoodie: deep hood to shadow his face

Game day hoodie: Manchester United logo on the front

"Formal: hoodie: truest black, no rips holes or stains

Weapons maintenance hoodie: so many gun oil stains

Stole-from-Soap hoodie: tight, sleeves slightly too short

Lounging hoodie: loose fit, nice deep pockets for the hands

Bad day hoodie: softest and most comfortable hoodie, sleeve cuffs and hood strings are frayed from picking at them

Stolen-by-Soap hoodie: give it back you Scottish bastard

~@slashhinginghasher

Those are just the black hoodies, he also has some in a multitude of colors, all gifted to him. It’s obvious which ones that have a nice, tolerable texture from how often he wears them. Not to mention the hoodies he’s stolen from everyone on 141. He's stolen from Price (brown, army green), Gaz (a bit too small, blue and some light greens). Ghost would steal one from Laswell too but it wouldn't be possible... Which is why he has taken toboggans from her.

#call of duty #modern warfare #simon ghost riley #ask #thanks for the ask <3 #drabble

[cowyolks]

BLUNT SALVATION

PROLOGUE. A BITE OF OPPORTUNITY

Pairing: Monster!König x Female!Reader

Warnings: Blood and Gore, PTSD, unhealthy mental habits.

Words: 769 (a quick little prologue before the action starts)

Blunt Salvation Masterlist

Every light was on. It wasn’t a motive of fear anymore, but more as a desire to stay in control. The bulbs were an irritating fluorescent, not the pathetic yellow tint that casts eerie shadows across scattered objects.

It was enough to stop the shaking across your joints.

The television was always on a dull volume, enough to hear the constant debate of the local news, but quiet enough to hear the rumbling engines outdoors. You couldn’t stand the silence.

As a psychologist, it was easy to pinpoint your own thoughts and why you had them. It was harder to make yourself quit the agonizing patterns and trauma that forced your hand.

Bitten fingers tapped upon the glass coffee-table, omitting a clicking noise against the small corners of the apartment. You’d already lined the door frames with silver and iron, the window panes crystallized in salt. It had become second nature to do so, an obsessive behavior that couldn’t be quit.

You never knew where the monster went to. Who he told, how he planned to hunt down each and every employee of your company.

Vladimir Makarov had been your patient. Your first big break, your prized monster whose brain you could pick and prod. You remembered being so excited when your lead psychologist gave you your first solo assignment of a first-class monster— The nastiest of the genetic pool.

You had been excited, until he escaped.

It’d had been your fault. You were told of Makarov’s manipulative tendencies, how he played to fear and terror. It didn’t stop you from trying to save your boss, despite the pool of blood already on the floor.

You realized you were too close, too late.

You could still feel the sting of the bite even now, in your dingy apartment. A hand reaching up to the fleshy dent of teeth marks embedded into your fragile neck. The skin was pulled taut, recently scarred over, but a constant burn flamed through your arteries at the reminder.

It was a miracle they made it to you in time.

You vaguely remember crystalline eyes blinking worriedly down at you, a growling Scottish accent telling you to keep your eyes open as he waited for his captain. A skeletal gloved palm, held your warm blood in place.

You remember it to be agonizing. Textbooks didn’t justify just how badly wolfbites hurt, especially in such a vulnerable place such as your neck. You hardly felt the pinch of a needle as Captain John Price injected you with the antidote.

Recovery was rough, brace placed upon the hollow of your throat for weeks. The stench of your own blood kept you awake and the heavy antibiotics they fed through you to keep your body human instead of beast burned and ached.

It was excruciating.

But this— this paranoia was almost worse. It was hard being alone, to feel the chill in the air and jump at every creak of old drywall. Your hands itched to stay busy, to keep that horrid night out of your mind. Perhaps you could etch on another boring crossword, or practice your Morse code on the table.

Eyes bobbled over to the sandwich you had hastily made, more so for the task and less for the urge to eat.

Another creak against the window pane.

A storm was coming, violent thunderstorms due to the approaching spring weather. You jumped upwards, wanting to check the salt and iron again before you settled against the cushions and attempted to sleep for the night.

A loud buzz startled you before you could stand. Instantly your eyes blurred, fingers curling into your palms and leaving dents enough to draw blood.

It wasn’t healthy, but you didn’t have any reassurance or backbone to begin said healing. You were everything you tried to treat.

The loud buzzing didn’t stop, even after your heart rate returned to normal, and you could see clearly again. Deep inhales grounded you as you stared at the vibrating phone on the table.

A familiar face glowed upon the screen, an accept or decline just under the name.

Your heart screamed not to answer it, knowing it had something to do with work. It would put you back in the crosshairs, back to the constant battle of human vs. monster. Your mind argued the opposite. Knowing you needed to face your fears, to realize that you were still alive and for good reason.

You reached for the phone, pushing the green button and holding it up shakily to your ear.

“Laswell.” You greeted, teeth clenched tightly.

“Doctor…”

A long pause.

“We need your help.”

Not sure how many I can tag, some didn’t give me the option to. So first come first serve! What did you guys think??? König will be introduced in the first chapter!

@cordeliawhohung @nanamis-bunny @tiredmetalenthusiast @teehee-47 @elijahssuit @profoundlynerdywolf @iytatsworld @roastyyytoastyyy @liyanahelena @blight-anon @callophantical @mykneeshurt @promiseofeywa @awhorefordilfs @f3nnick @dude-ew-gross @beepboop-2222 @org12 @obi-wansorrow @lycheedr3ams @frogs11 @aghast-victorian-noble @mintatski-blog @illsksm @lazyalocasia @midnightsan101 @apollodeath @volpesas @juliannatryon @bugsarts @elichisstuff @aurochka @zombeeghost @grizzersmamma @fandom-blackhole @nerd-jay @tea-leaving @oxkikixo @memer0om @0-ramen-0 @junkratssheila-09 @juvenillia @cutegor3 @jaredhopworthsknickers @bunnybabe03 @saphiresai @shimas-things12 @runemdollas @ajadell @kiwibao

#cod #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #könig #call of duty #konig #konig x reader #könig x reader #könig cod

[thetravelingtyper]

On the same page...(Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader Bookshop! AU) pt 1

After a disastrous breakup, you, an American author, escape to a little London bookstore with your best friend. However, when one patron takes a certain interest in you, you wonder if your story has been finished after all...

Part 2

“You used to get it in your fishnets

Now you only get it in your nightdress

Discarded all the naughty nights for niceness

Landed in a very common crisis

Everything's in order in a black hole

Nothing seems as pretty as the past though

That Bloody Mary's lacking in Tabasco

Remember when you used to be a rascal?”

Smooth lyrics picked with a bass line and beats in on the radio, your ears perked up and catching the beginning of fluorescent adolescent you sighed. The song wasn't helping your down mood and you pick up your phone, ignoring the 10+ missed calls from your ex, and changed the song. After shuffling for a moment another piercing ring lit up your phone.

God leave me alone!

You sigh to yourself and toss your phone back on the counter of the bookstore as the door rings, announcing a customer. Your eyes flick to the door as a tall man enters. Lightly buzzed hair looks soft in the light and you catch yourself staring a little and he grins at you. You welcome him in and he nods then heads towards the history section. You watch how he carries himself. Strong and steady with a soldier's confidence. You think a little about it, the strength those arms carry before your phone rings again...

Your hand flies to your phone and you finally silence the poor thing, the buzzing remaining like a dying animal, a fit allusion to your past relationship. You remember the glittering smirks of the ladies and your fiance's grin, eyes shadowed with greed as you stood in a winning dress. The bastard ruined your image and your future with one moment, pulling the girl to him for a steaming kiss. Flashes of lights as the crowding press pushed past you and left you in the dark.

Glittering lights turned to stars as you left the gala alone, pushing the cheating bastard and your ‘friends’, truthfully venomous colleagues, to the back of your mind. You had gotten back home to your flat, packed everything you could, and kicked it to stay with a friend. You could imagine the headlines. “Downbeat author loses job and life!” You groan wipe a hand down your face and force yourself into the present.

You stand and shift your weight from foot to foot. It was a practice Sam had taught you when you both first moved out. His extended family was in the publishing business and owned a bookstore in London proper with an attached apartment on top. It was easy for him to steal his best friend away and across the pond for a new life chasing words through the drizzly streets of London.

Put yourself in the current moment, and learn to reset yourself if needed!

His warm voice rings in your ears and you smile, stretching and taking stock of the current moment. It was currently 5:36 on a Thursday, it was the middle of February so it was cold outside, currently not raining but cloudy. If you look you can see covered strangers pass back and forth outside the windows of the bookshop.

It had been a few months since you settled in but they were full of meeting Sam’s family and getting your writing career back on your feet. After the shame of the breakup, you had taken an extended break from writing. However restful for you, your manager was insistent on getting a book finished by the middle of the year, or year's end at worst. So you dutifully spent your time manning the bookshop and writing when you could bear to. But every time you opened that blank white screen you grimaced, seeing...

A large thunk on the counter makes you jump. Your eyes and mind darting back to the present.

“Aye sorry lass.” A thick Scottish voice apologizes and you catch first his smile, he's teasing.

You shake yourself out of it and reach over the counter to grab at his book, A History of Military Maneuvers.

“You certainly chose some dense reading material,” You quip at him as an easy smile lights up your face as well. You take the book and bag it, mentioning the price as he passes you a card.

“It's not too bad when you live it.” He explains simply. That would explain the physique.

“Did you serve?”

“I did once, not anymore. Took one too many and it put me on the sidelines. I found quieter work around the city.” He says it calmly but you catch his hand and rub his shoulder. It seems a sore spot for him. You think of your career back in the States and frown.

“I don’t blame you,” a hurt passes over your eyes. Your writer's brain latches onto his character. He seemed to enjoy part of his career, but you can see the injury in your mind's eye now, one moment normal then the next some career-ending injury.

“What do you do? I've seen you in the store before.” He brushes a hand through his hair a little ashamed.

You raise a brow,

“Been watching have you? I am an author back in the States for your information, Mr…?”

He grins at you and offers his hand across the counter,

“John, John MacTavish but my friends just call me Soap.”

You return his handshake. His hands are rough and completely engulf yours, a fact that makes your heart skip a beat at the realization.

His phone then rings and he pulls away from you to check it. 

“I got to get this love, but it was nice finally putting a name to the face. I'll be seeing ye around.”

With that Soap takes the bag and makes his exit into the cold evening. With his departure, you feel your spirits lift. Maybe, you think flexing your hand, there is a story to be written after all.

#simon riley fluff #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 2022 fanfic #ghost x reader #fanfiction #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #soap mactavish #soap and reader #slight soap mactavish x reader #On The Same Page

[demieyesore]

I have a Mattheo imagine request, or 2. If either call out to you please use them

1. Reader is ex girlfriend of Mattheo and they’re in the same DADA class, well she faces her boggart and it’s mattheo

2. Dating Mattheo while being secretly super nerdy and in a different house

Okay so I literally love both of these so much, I’m gonna write the first one sometime soon but here’s the second one in the mean time :D

A little Nerdy - Mattheo Riddle

Summary - Mattheo catches Ravenclaw GN!Reader being super Nerdy over TV shows and science

A/n - Literally so excited to write this because I’m a very Nerdy person so I literally get to gush over my Nerdy interests

Warnings/Mentions - The Nerdy stuff that is mentioned in this fic is the following, Doctor Who, knowing 100 digits of Pi literally just because of a song, talking about Teen Wolf, literally ENJOYING doing science homework, GN!Reader, this is more of a Drabble than an actual fic

POV - 3rd

Requested - Yes

Word Count - 771

The first time Mattheo noticed how Nerdy you were was when he overheard you talking to Luna Lovegood. He was quite confused at first since it was clear you were talking about some muggle show but it was very obvious you were gushing over it.

Mattheo had been out for a walk in the forbidden forest, looking for a place to smoke when he had seen you and Luna. Luna was feeding some of the animals in the forest when he had heard you start speaking.

“And then one of my favorite muggle shows is called Teen Wolf, it’s about this teenager named Scott Mcall who gets bitten by a werewolf and he’s actually like really cute. But people seem to like him less than his best friend, and his name is Stiles. Stiles is like my dream man, he’s so stupid and smart at the same time. He’s also like totally in love with this girl named Lydia Martin, she’s like kind of a bitch but she’s also super smart and I actually really love her. She’s probably one of my first girl crushes. Oh and don’t even get me started on Derek Hale or Theo or Liam. OR the dread doctors, they were actually quite scary from time to time.” His eyes lit up in amusement once he heard how quickly you were talking, you were so lost in your rambling that you didn’t notice him standing against a tree, attempting to not laugh at you.

He absolutely thought it was adorable how much you cared about the plot and characters of this television show.

The next time he became aware of your Nerdy tendencies was when he stopped by your dorm. Your roommate had been out and when he walked in, all he saw was you laying on the floor in front of a television screen. There was a Scottish man on the screen talking to another man. Before he made his presence known, you had recited the lines the characters were speaking.

“Compensating? For what? Regenerations a lottery.” Mattheo walked over towards your bed, picking up a pillow and throwing it at you. It hit you in the back of the head and you swiftly turned. Immediately pausing the show and standing when you realized it was Mattheo.

“What are you doing here? It’s my Doctor Who time.” You said with a slight frown on your face, like you were genuinely sad about him interfering with the show.

“Is this what you do in your free time?” He snorted, before sitting down on your bed. Mattheo gestured for you to press play again and you happily did so when you realized he wasn’t going to say anything mean to you.

Mattheo honestly found it funny and cute when you were Nerdy. You were already a Ravenclaw but he didn’t expect you to be so open about your interests.

The third time Mattheo had seen you being Nerdy, it was for potions class. But you had kept talking about how much you liked science when you were younger. Something called Chemistry.

“Okay Mattheo, go grab the next ingredients, I’m gonna sit here and stir the cauldron because otherwise it could explode. Which would be kind of fun but I like when things don’t blow up.” Mattheo does as you say, going to grab the next list of ingredients for a potion. This was a more complicated one that required a lot of eyes on the cauldron at all times.

The last and final time, the MOST Nerdy possible thing he could have witnessed was you having a competition with Harry. You had a bet placed on you where whoever knows the most digits of Pi, gets all the money that was bet on them. Harry had got to 3.14 on his paper and you were already 6 digits ahead of him. You were humming a tune to yourself as you scribbled down the answers on the paper. The timer for a minute went off and in total you had written 100 digits of Pi.

And as Nerdy and weird as you are (because literally who needs to know 100 digits of Pi?) He absolutely ADORED it. He loved how oddly smart you were with certain things. And he loved how you would ramble on and on about something random, even if it wasn’t important to the task at hand.

In fact, Mattheo loved how Nerdy you are, so much, that when he bought you a custom bracelet with his name on it. The inside of the bracelet had a sentence on it.

“wibbly wobbly, timey wimey stuff”

#slytherin boys #harry potter #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo x you #nerdy stuff

[goodday-goodmorn]

Back on this account: Prefacing this that this work was wrote in like a day and like most of my things- i was too lazy to edit lol. The concept form todays work was injected into my brain by good old @auspicioustidings, check em out- they got some cool concepts and fics. (Particularly Firewatch- chefs kiss to that series), lots of soft, dark, kidnap-y, COD content 👍

Without further ado i present my impulsive thoughts on a page:

——————

“Committed to the Bit.”

words: 4.7k

Summary: You’re at an utterly boring halloween party, about to leave when some scottish man dressed as a solider comes slinking into the bathroom and really goes ham with his whole ‘This place is dangerous, you aren’t supposed to be here- we gotta get you to safety’ act. Weird pick-up line approach but hey it fucking works. He’s just charming enough for you to play along with his bit. Because it is just a bit… right?

This party was kinda dull. Which really was a shame considering how high your expectations were. From what your friend said- it was supposed to be an immersive experience. The hosts were apparently old collage buddies with your friend who were halloween fanatics.

You friend has absolutely hyped them up, talking all about how when they threw parties they got into them and would always play up whatever dynamic they were going for with their costumes. Even to a level of mild public humiliation.

She once recounted the story of how one year, when dressed as a pair of vampires, they full on acted as though they were melting when someone brought a side of garlic breadsticks with the pizza. Fully committed to the bit it seems.

Because of the hosts being so dedicated to their act, of course it wasn’t uncommon for guests to act in a similar manner. Even those who didn’t have a running gag for the night were overall relaxed and had a good time being apart of the fun. It was a non-judgmental zone, filled with pretty decor and open people.

So of course, after hearing all about the welcoming and fucking amazing vibes of these parties- you had agreed to meet up with your friend at one.

Normally, you weren’t really one for parties, especially halloween ones because it was typically full of judgey, horny, strangers who would consider you weird- and you’d have to small talk and the songs almost always sucked because of course they couldn’t play actual halloween songs even if it killed them.

But after many reassurances from your friend, including videos and photos she had graciously provided you- you went to one.

To say you were disappointed was an understatement.

The costumes were amazing- high quality and expensive, hell the place was fucking stunning, all decked out in halloween gear and dark lighting. Even the building itself seemed perfect for this sort of thing- winding corridors, random locked rooms, ominous men in suits. Oh and don’t get you started on the snack table, shit was heavenly even if you were the only one touching it. The aesthetics of the party were great, But…

The vibes were way off. There was no rambunctious fun laughter and people grooving on the dance floor. Everyone seemed oddly reserved. Committed to their bits for sure, but well… there wasn’t much ah, variety to everyone’s act.

They all shared a similar vibe of like- domineering power. Which was definitely pretty fucking hot when it came to some people, (looking at you fancy vanpire lady), but it got boring after a while.

Safe to say your attempts at socializing were pretty shot. And what’s even worse, your friend? Yeah she didn’t even show up.

Tragic truly. You would call her to see if she made it here yet, but your phone was dead- and talking to any of the other party goers was a song and dance you didn’t wanna attempt again.

So here you are, in the bathroom, sitting by one of the sinks and charging your phone.

How lame.

You sigh, standing up to check yourself out in the mirror. At least your costume is fun, it’s a reference that only really you and you friend would get, but still, it made you happy to wear. It was a royal outfit, you looked like nobility, nice and fancy. Perhaps a barron, or maybe a princess, or a king- really it was up for anyone's interpretation. You fix up the head accessory, then fuss with your hair just to have something to do.

Maybe you should just leave, you were getting pretty bored of everything.

And it’s at that moment, as you’re sinking down to the bathroom floor to grab your charger that the most interesting thing of tonight bursts through the door.

You look at him, blinking once then twice. He does the same.

Eye candy.

That’s the first thought that comes to mind. Without an ounce of shame you let your eyes rack over his form, fitted in some sort of military outfit, tactical gear and even a prop gun. He makes it look damn good.

And then you stop admiring the hunk of prime meat in front of you because starring is rude. (Even if he is fucking amazingly charmingly rugged and god damn what you wouldn’t give to run your fingers through that mohawk of his and just tug-)

“That’s a good fucking costume.”

He pauses, looking at you with something confused and a bit bemused. And like an idiot you just can’t keep your mouth shut and blurt out more shit.

“Did ya have to bust through the door though? I mean like- don’t get me wrong it was cool as shit- really adds to the character here, big, hot, ah… military? guy.”

You wince, you’re making a fool of yourself. Luckily the man doesn't seem to mind.

(Johnny takes one look at you, your bag in a sink, your phone charging in the bathroom outlet, your clearly partly homemade costume that shows way more care than any of the other people in this joint and easily figures out-)

“L.T, Found a civvie.”

He mumbles into a- oh shit he’s got an earpiece and everything. Now that is cool. You tell him as such.

“Okay that is so fucking cool. Dude does that thing actually work? Man. How long did it even take for you to get this whole costume?”

He studies you with an odd look for a moment. You wonder if there’s actually anyone talking to him in that earpiece. Must be with the way he pauses. Slowly, he speaks; gentle.

“Not a costume lass. We ought to get you outta here, it's gonna be a shitshow soon.”

You blink. And then, you smile.

“Rightttt, not a costume. I getcha.”

“Not joking bonnie. This place is dangerous, filled with snakes. How did a wee thing like you even get in here?”

You smile, a bit pleased to banter with the first person who isn't doing the same old same old, ‘i know more than you, ooo im so big and powerful and scary’ act.

“Took a carriage ride and promised my roommate I'd be back by midnight.”

He eyes your royal esc outfit, not cinderella by any means but it still makes him smile slightly. (And boy if that isn't a sight, him looking you up and down and looking at you like that?)

“Cute. Then allow me to be yer escort princess.” He jerks his head in the direction of the bathroom door.

The statement is said with just enough sarcasm to make you bite down a grin. Hes very committed to this whole military operation act. And honestly? You were ready to leave anyway. Not to mention this guy was the only one who’d gotten your interest all night.

You grab your things and stuff them in your bag, slinging it over your shoulder tightly.

“Follow me, and ye gotta be quiet. Cant let anyone see us.”

You are more than willing to go along with his silly bit. And so you give him a clumsy salute, with a good natured smile.

“You got it captain.”

“Sergeant.”

He corrects you with an amused little puff of air. Clearly- hes just as pleased to have someone indulge him as you are to have someone interesting to talk to.

“You got it sergeant.” You repeat back with a graceful little half bow and amused smirk.

He turns back to the door, hands on his gun and before you go out you grab onto his arm.

“Wait!”

He turns to you with a raised eyebrow, eyes sharp, focused: wow hes a really good actor and hes got really pretty fucking eyes-

“Lassie?”

Oh yeah you can't get lost in his eyes just yet.

“Can I have a gun? For safety and all that- totally.”

“Hen… i don't think-”

“please sergeant? I promise I won't break it or anything! I just wanna get more into character ya know? pretty please Sir…?

…

(Johnny is not a good man. And fuck when he hears you call him by his rank, sir, asking so sweetly- your hands clasped in front of you- looking at him with a sheepish grin and pleading eyes. He wants to give you a damn bazooka if it means you keep talking sweet to him. Ghost is in his ear, telling him he better not bloody dare.)

(So of course…)

“You keep that safety on boonie. Hold it like this. If you gotta use it, don't be shooting or you’ll blow yer eye out. You toss the bloody thing in the direction of whatever it is you’re tryna hit- or you hand it to me. Is that clear?”

You nod vehemently, assuring him with little, yep’s and sure’s, and got it-’s. He raises a brow, mostly cause hes not sure if you’re actually taking this seriously. You take it for something else entirely though and then quickly say-

“Yes sir. Understood.”

(...Johnny is both damn disappointed hes on a mission, and greatful as fuck, because the only thing he wants to do is push you up against that wall, sneak his hands down your silly little costume and tease you until you’re a squirming mess. Asking you if you understand how hard hes gonna fuck you and hear your breath hitch as you answer back with a wanton “Yes sir”—)

“Sergeant…?”

You stare at the fellow and his intense gaze, wondering if you took it too far. Hes committed to his bit sure, but you didn't mean to overstep and make him feel like he had to give you a gun. Clearly they were expensive props, detailed and metallic and heavy.

Instead of speaking to you, he speaks to his earpiece, “just a precaution L.T, what if her majesty gets cornered? Little lass don't have a lick of combat training.”

You -far to ready to add to this stupid little bit- chime in,

“Yeah, they only teach you fencing and the waltz where i'm from.”

Johnny grins, “Com'on L.T”

(As much as Ghost hates to admit it- Johnny is right. And so be begrudgingly relents. It seems everyone is amused by how utterly oblivious you are because Gaz spares a laugh and a cheeky comment after Ghost's gruff voice.)

“Soooo… what's the verdict Sergeant? Did your uh… LT? That's lieutenant right-? Does he approve?”

In response, Soap carefully positions a gun in your hand, telling you with an edge to keep your fingers away from the trigger. (Safety is on of course, Johnnys not an idiot all the time.) You nod, holding onto the gun and feeling so cool.

Like that the two of you are off, sneaking around the winding corridors and hiding.

Honestly? This is the most fun you’ve had since you got here. Its all you can do to not bounce on your heels when you follow Soap around.

He's just so into this, that you can't help but be sucked in. Speaking in low tones to his ear peice, making sure you stick close, talking about positions and other military jargon that goes over your head. Oh and he does it all with this charming smile, like the situation is serious yes- but like he's still making sure you’re having fun. Trying to keep you comfortable. The energy is tense but in a good way. Electric even.

You find yourself holding your breath whenever you hide behind a corner, or when he tugs you to him and holds you still- god it's just so thrilling. Maybe because you’ve had a boring night, and cause he's charming and fun in all the right ways- but you’re having a blast.

Even when things seem to get even more tense.

You and Soap are currently nestled away in a little nook, a back corridor, a dead end. Soap curses, speaking into his earpiece. You can hear footsteps, someones coming. And if they see you and Soap- you'll surely be compromised.

(Which means your little game will likely come to an end. Most of the party people here are judgmental, ergo they probably won't appreciate your little roleplay. Its in this moment that you decide- fuck it, you dont want this to end.)

“Sergeant!” You whisper harshly, tugging off your fancy coat and draping it around him, “I’ve got a plan- trust me.”

He looks at you, mildly conflicted, he's about to say something but the footsteps are getting closer and you really need a cover story for why you’re lurking in a dark corner away from the party. You can only think of one reason two people would sneak away at a party.

Sue you for getting too into this silly game of pretend, but adrenaline spikes and next thing you know; you’re kissing him.

Rough and messy, needy. You let out your best wanton muffled moan. His eyes are wide, and for a moment you spiral, realizing what you’ve just done. Sure you were playing pretend and he was committed to the bit but you just kissed him for fucks sake- sexually harsssed him!

Oh god hes gonna hate you and you just ruined all that fun banter and any shot at ever speaking to the only decent person you’ve met all night—

He’s kissing back.

With sudden haste he pulls you close, kissing you back with a ferocity that short circuits your brain for a moment. His knee slots in between your legs, entangling you two, and then there's a soft thud as his back hits the wall.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Your heart races, a slurry of adrenaline, of elation because he was playing along with your silly cover story, of something hot and molten because he was running his hands along your outfit desperately.

Amidst the heat of it all, the grinding of his knee between your legs- you don't even notice the fact that the footsteps stopped. Johnny does though. He breaks the kiss with a purposeful loud noise, when he sees your dazed and confused expression however- he quickly aims for your neck before you can say a word and accidently give away the clever cover story you thought of.

You gasp, the noise does wonders. He can hear whoevers about to round the corner shifting about, obviously realizing what's going on and debating if they should check to be sure or spare their eyes of the sight.

So of course, Johnny helps them decide by laying it on thick.

“Fuck atta girl hen, wanna hear you fall apart f’ me.”

He presses you against his knee, nibbling at your skin to make your breath stutter. Thankfully, you catch his words and seem to get at least to some level what he's doing.

So of course, because god damn it- you’re in the thick of this silly military operation act now- you’ve gotta commit. You moan out the worst thing you can think of to make someone go away. Which is of course—

“Daddy!”

(Johnny can hear Gaz fucking roaring with laughter over coms. It takes everything in himself not to laugh then and there. Luckily, having a pretty little thing pressed against his knee and trembling provides a good distraction. Still, he can't repress the grin.)

“Yeah? Need something kitten?” He captures your lips again, a quick kiss this time, just to leave you breathless for your next remark.

“Y-Your c-” Oh my fucking god you dont know if you’re struggling to speak because you’re trying your damndest not to laugh, or because you are painfully terribly aroused at due to his kisses and husky voice. Thank god he intervenes.

“Whats that kitty? Yer gonna have to speak up. Lemme hear that sweet voice of yours.”

He guides you across his knee, you tangle your hand in his hair, tugging that stupid mohawk close to kiss him again.

When you quickly pull away, you rush out the words, failing to hide the look of pure hysterical amusement on your face- luckily the rush of words is mistaken for neediness and not because you are seconds away from bursting into laughter.

“Your cock-”

He captured your laughter in another kiss, groaning to hide the sound of your stifled snickers.

Finally, after what seems like ages and yet too little time- he hears Ghost in his ear giving him the all clear. Not without clear amusement.

Johny backs off, panting heavily and listening. He hears nothing but empty air. Quietly he whispers,

“They’re gone.”

You pant as well, trying your best to keep your hysterical little giggles quiet. Johnny is right there with you, like fucking schoolgirls- the two of you giggle for a moment.

Ah but you should probably apologize.

“H-Hey im sorry by the way- for kissing you out of the blue like that, i didn't know if you’d be comfortable with it but uh- i kinda got invested in the whole-”

You wave a hand about as he backs off you, pulling his knee away from your heat between your legs.

“-‘Don't get caught’, thing. Sorry if i um- took it too far and make you uncomfortable…”

(Johnny looks down at you, pretty little oblivious thing, looking all sheepish and nervous as if there wasn’t the high potential you just saved both his and your asses with your quick thinking.)

“All good lassie. Good quick thinking.”

(As much as he’d love to tease you more about it- or even tell you just how much he enjoyed kissing you until you were breathless- he’s still on a mission, and you need to keep moving.)

(So for now, he settles for a hair ruffle and a wink. You smile all the same.)

The pair of you continue, and you are starting to wonder where you’re going. This ain’t the way you came in- though, you suppose coming in via the main entrance would defeat the point of the game. Which was of course: to sneak you out undetected. Walking through the hall of party-goers probably wouldn’t be the best call.

Still, it's odd when you find yourself stopping at a room. It appears to be locked, a passcode and everything. This doesn’t seem to be an issue though.

(“Intel says they left the hard drive here. Code is 269344041.” Johnny listens to Ghosts voice, inputting the code easily. He ignores the confused look you end him in favor of mumbling-)

“a’m in.”

You blink as he talks to his earpiece. Carefully and quietly as you enter the room, you ask,

“Um… sergeant? What are we doing in here?”

“Looking for a package hen.”

(“Should be in a small red box.” Ghost relays.)

“-Little red box. Help me look?”

You nod like the helpful little thing you are and begin to search the room. It’s a storage unit of sorts. Bunch of random shit, you even spot a cool ass box of skeleton bones. That you show to your newfound companion.

He grimaces and gently sets the box down away from your hands.

“Let’s not touch anything else alright lassie?”

It’s framed as a question but really it’s an order. You just shrug, and then remember your line was supposed to be, ‘yes sir.’

“Yes sir.”

The search doesn’t take long after that, a few minutes max before you spot a little red box high up on a shelf. All the things around it are collecting dust, but the dull red colored cardboard seems to be free of it. Placed there recently it seems.

Maybe this whole immersive thing was planned out, and maybe it was pure luck you got roped into it. Everything was awfully elaborate after all. With him knowing the code and stuff.

“Sergeant i think i found it.”

He’s on you in and instant,

“Where?”

You point up the shelf. “That it?”

He carefully grabs it, opens it up and shuts it before you can get a good look. Looked kinda like a flash drive? A flash drive inside a plastic baggie.

“That’s what we’re looking for alright. Good work lassie. Ye might as well be a recruit at this point.”

He’s joking it seems, so you smile back in turn.

“Lived a bit too cushiony of a life for military work i’m afraid.” You gesture once more to your royal outfit. “But i’ll consider the offer sergeant.”

He takes you by the arm, tucking the box into his vest and leading you to the door.

“Glad to hear it princess.”

After that, it’s more sneaking about, more little bits of banter whenever you can, and listening to him speak into his earpiece. It’s dreadfully fun, the most fun you’ve had all night and honestly? At any party ever.

Finally- Finally, you seem to make your goal as you feel open air on your skin. That took forever to get out, with how massive the place was, but by god it was fun sneaking around like a super spy with…

Oh. You come to the sudden realization that you don’t actually know his name. That and- you never gave him your name either.

Well, this is where you leave so…

“Hey i just realized i never got your name.”

He turns to you for a brief moment, his hands on your arm now, tugging you along away from the building so that the bouncers at the front won’t see you. The two of you stop a little ways away.

“Soap. Or Johnny if you’d prefer.”

He says it so simply, with such an easy smile.

“And you princess?”

You say your own back, and it sounds so nice on his tongue. So right.

“Um- if you wouldn’t mind-“ You’re fishing in your bag now for your barely charged phone, wanting to get his number because he seems like a stand up dude and-

Soap touches his earpiece, “Package and civilians secure L.T. Good to go.” He says it quiet enough you don’t hear it, too busy looking for your phone.

(“Roger. Gaz move in.”)

“-could i maybe get your number? After i find my phone, of course. it’s just uh, well i had a lot of fun. Truth be told the night was pretty shit before you found me so if it’s okay with y-“

Your eyes widen when you see behind Soap, several Military troops storming the place, all of them holding what look to be- very real guns.

“What the fu-?”

You start, dropping your phone in a shock and completely shattering the poor device against the pavement.

Johnny can’t seem to bite down his grin.

Slowly, and yet all too fast, everything clicks as soon as you hear gunshots.

At a snails pace your head turns towards Johnny. Soap. The sergeant. The real sergeant.

“I did tell ya it wasn’t a costume hen.”

You were such a fucking idiot.

——————

Awkwardly you sit in your chair, taken in for interrogation. Less that and more for protocol considering everyone agreed you didn’t know jack shit.

Apparently, you went to the wrong party and somehow ended up at a terrorist gathering, which would explain the weird vibes of all the guests. And the super big and confusing building. And the many locked doors. And the—

The more you thought about it, the more stupid you felt so at some point in the hours of being on this stupid military base, you stopped.

To your utter horror and humiliation: Soap was a real sergeant. On a real mission. And he gave you a real ass fucking gun. And you had kissed him and oh god he had his knee between your fucking legs- you called him daddy.

Physically unable to handle the shame and embarrassment, you make a noise similar to that of a dying cat and bury your face in your hands.

The person ‘interrogating’ you, (a nice man that everyone called Gaz), just laughed. At the very least your misery was amusing.

“I am- so, so so fucking sorry, oh my god i’m such an idiot.”

“Don’t worry about it love. It helped to keep you calm. Better than dealing with panicking eh?”

You nodded because he made sense. It didn’t mean you were happy about it- but it did make sense. Soap tried to tell you after all. Honestly it was probably for the best you thought it was all a joke. Who knows what you would have done if you knew it was for real, probably panicked and gotten both yourself and him killed.

Gaz pats your head, an amused but sympathetic smile on his face.

(God fucking damn it, were all sergeants just naturally this fucking charming??? …You don’t have a thing for military guys do you?)

When the captain of this whole thing walks in, John Price; with a smile like that of a damn koala bear and air of authority- you decide that, yeah. Maybe you do have a thing for military types.

Go figure.

“You're free to go love.”

You sigh with relief, mostly because you don’t physically think you can handle anymore embarrassment. Your face is starting to hurt from all the cringing you’ve been doing. How are you ever gonna live this down?

“Afraid your phones broken though. Do you know the way home?”

No. Obviously not. You were taken here via military truck with the other soldiers. Frankly you could be in a different country right now and you wouldn’t know because you passed out at some point from the sheer embarrassment of it all.

(Price of course, knows this. He just wants to see you squirm a little longer. Is it wrong? Yeah. But he’ll be damned if you aren’t the most fun thing to mess with.)

“Um no- sir.” You tack on the title quickly, unsure exactly what to call him.

“Alright. I’ll have one of my men escort you home.”

As long as it’s anyone but Johnny you should be able to survive a car ri-

“Soap.”

Fuck.

“Take my car and escort the little lady back home.”

…You just had to think it, didn't you?

(Price knows he’s cruel for messing with you. Mean and terrible really. But the face you make when he calls Soap into the room? Where you look like you go through every stage of grief before landing on depression in .5 seconds?)

(Priceless.)

——————

The car ride is just as excruciating as you thought it would be. Even worse- Soaps a good guy. Charming and fun, sweet even. He jokes and teases you but tries his damnest to make the car ride as comfortable as possible.

Hell he even offers to stop someplace and buy you something for the road. And offer you not let would refuse; but you were at the base for hours, and it’s like 2 AM and you are exhausted and hungry and embarrassed.

So the two of you get some takeout, and eat in Prices car. You would be worried about eating in the car, but Soap makes you comfortable, assuring you the captain would probably be more upset if he let you go home on an empty stomach.

The rest of the drive is cozy after that. He pulls laughter out of you, and embarrassed groans but it’s all in good fun.

By the time you get home, you’re most definitely a little unsteady on your feet just due to how tired you are. He helps you out of the car, and even walks you to your door.

Before he leaves, you awkwardly debate giving him your number. Just so you could buy him drinks or something later down the line to make up for your utter stupidity today- but then you remember your totaled phone.

Damn.

And then, a god seemingly hears your prays because he’s slipping you a sheet of paper.

Drowsily you blink down at it to find a king number string. A phone number.

When you snap your eyes back up to him, he’s grinning.

“You wanted it right lass? Give me a call sometime.”

And then, he’s winking and walking away. Just like that.

…huh. Maybe you should go to parties more often.

#john soap mactavish #soap x reader #cod fanfic #tf 141 x reader #(kinda?) #Kissing #fanfic #go look at auspicioustiddings they’re cool #Read Firewatch #I don’t normally write romance tbh #Those were definitely probably not prop bones #Also reader 100 percent shows up with baked goods down the line #Bro is never gonna live this down #I wouldn’t either #The embarrassment could kill a man.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Remus Lupin x fem!reader [2.1K] A lazy, summer Sunday after the full moon. Fluff, softness and shared tangerines.

Sundays were slow at Hogwarts, especially during summer. The Scottish heat made everyone sluggish, lazy and languid, mornings spent in cool showers and afternoons in the shade outside. 

It’s where Remus found you after breakfast, half cast in shadows under an old oak tree on the edge of the lake. Your bag was spilled out across the grass, books with dog eared pages and empty potion bottles, a broken quill and a half eaten chocolate frog that was doing its best to escape with just two legs. 

He sat down without a greeting, close enough that his shoulder bumped yours, his denim covered thigh up against your bare one. Your dress wasn’t doing much in terms of keeping you cool, but the breeze picked at it every now and then, sunflower yellow cotton against the green grass. 

Remus handed you half the tangerine he’d peeled and you accepted it with a hum, glancing out of the side of your eyes to inspect him. It had been a full moon last night and he had a new line across his neck to show for it. The scratch was already healed over, silver in the sunlight, no doubt from Lily’s wand, possibly even Remus’ own, if he’d managed enough sleep. 

You asked him as such, your gaze on the lavender coloured smudges below his lash line. “Sleep well?” 

It was barely ten o’clock in the morning, but the summer sun rose around four and you hoped the boy had managed a few hours of sleep, as restless as they may have been. You’d witnessed him before, just once, slumped between James and Sirius as they led him back through the portrait, half hidden as the cloak started slipping to the floor. There had been some blood, a lot of naked skin, dirt covered bare feet and half lidded eyes, barely focusing on you. Remus was asleep before James had managed to lead him to bed.  

The boy hummed, creased shirt sleeves unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows, smelling like citrus and the leftover smoke from the cigarette he probably stole from Sirius’ bedside. 

“Yeah,” he told you, his voice quiet enough that you could hear the owls above, making their way to the Great Hall. You knew he was saying it only for your benefit, a soft agreement that was supposed to make you feel less worried. “Managed a couple of hours, even with James’ snoring.”

You huffed out a laugh, leaning closer, every bit of your side touching his, like if you stayed near enough, you could convince yourself he was indeed safe, that he’d made it through another full moon without the need for a hospital wing visit afterwards. 

“They’re still asleep?” You asked, not needing to specify who you were talking about. There were only two other people who should’ve been lounging around you, talking shit and causing some sort of trouble. “They’re okay?”

Remus nodded, placing the last segment of fruit on your thigh, balancing it in the stripe of sun that came through the tree canopy. “Yeah. They’re safe. Tired, though. Don’t you worry that pretty, little head of yours.”

That was understandable. You’d only seen your friends from afar, from your dormitory window, watching in quiet fear as three shapes made their way to the forbidden forest, two familiar, the third you’d only seen in textbooks, in horror movie posters. James had engaged in too many discussions with you to count, whispered and heated, hidden from Remus until Sirius broke it up and the two boys had to watch you blink back tears as they both told you ‘no’ again, like they always did. 

It was always forgotten about when they visited the girls dorm when they shouldn’t have, shuffling through Gryffindor tower under James’ cloak, knocking on your door with a few chocolate frogs and Sirius’ last bottle of Pumpkin Juice. They said ‘sorry’ and you nodded, knowing. It was too dangerous to help, you were all too aware of that. So the boys aided at night, ran across the hillsides and through the forests, keeping Remus away from anything human and out of sight. And when morning came, they lingered in their dormitory, let Remus come to you, let you look after him in a way that only you could. 

Something in the lake splashed, far away enough that you didn’t catch a glimpse of it, maybe a tentacle from the giant squid, maybe something no one knew about. But Remus took the opportunity to push your book bag away with a foot, long legs stretched out on the grass so he could manoeuvre himself into his favourite position. His head on your lap, sandy brown hair still mussed from bed and the sun slanting over his face in peach-gold coloured stripes, the last piece of forgotten tangerine stolen back between his fingers. 

He held it up to you from where he lay, brown eyes turning honey coloured in the light. You tried to hide your smile with a twist of your lips, an eye roll that wasn’t as casual as you had hoped. Remus grinned, waiting patiently until you leaned forward just a touch, stealing the fruit from between his fingertips with your lips, hoping your teeth didn’t graze him. 

That wouldn’t have been proper. Not at all. 

But neither was the way the boy stole your hand, his curling around your wrist to guide it to his head, humming something sinful when you let your fingers delve into his hair to scratch at his scalp. Remus’ eyes fluttered, lashes casting shadows across his high cheekbones, the sun erasing the reddened shadows under his eyes. He looked less tired then, laid out all pretty in your lap like that, eyes closed, breathing even, a small smile on his lips. 

Peaceful. Like he hadn’t had his body wrecked and cracked the night before, like each of his bones hadn’t splintered and pieced themselves back together before the sun had come up. 

You let him lay like that for as long as he wanted, skin warming under the sun, hand soothing over his hair, across his forehead and along the slope of his cheek until his lips parted in sleepy surprise and Remus turned his head into your tummy, nose nudging there as he slept. 

He woke when James and Sirius found you both later, when the sky was still blue and cloudless, whistling and shouting something awful as they greeted you both with stolen sandwiches and pocketfuls of sherbet lemons. You frowned at the two boys, both as messy and sleep rumpled as the other, James wearing Remus’ stolen t-shirt, Sirius still in all black despite the heat, a split lip holding onto an unlit cigarette as he approached. Then Remus moved, something that saddened you both, but he stayed close, sharing pumpkin juice as you both listened and laughed at how Sirius managed to land himself detention and lost points only mere minutes after leaving the common room. 

And when the boys inevitably stripped off to go for a swim, you made them both sit in front of you first, wand out to heal their own scrapes and scratches, small injuries that made Remus’ lips turn down. James hooted and hollered as he ran down the small hill, ignoring how you yelled about his glasses, ‘cause Sirius was chasing him and soon they were both barrelling onto the cold water. 

Remus stayed, still close, a small and tired smile on his face as he watched you huff at your friends, fond affection creeping over him as you reached for your book. You leant back against the old oak tree, the book in the grass beside you because you saved your lap for him. It took him a second or two before he lay back down, cheek pressed to your bare thigh, eyes looking up at you. 

“Read to me?” He asked softly. “Please?”

And who were you to deny him? You kept a hand on the pages, another in his hair, only glancing away to make sure your friends weren’t drowning. You read until your voice dropped to a murmur, until all the sherbet lemons were gone, the sour sugar a leftover fizz on your tongue. Remus had his eyes closed, awake enough to hum when you whispered his name, tangerine scented fingers drawing shapes over your ankles. You wondered if he could feel your goosebumps, you wondered if he knew what it meant. 

You wondered if he’d let you do this tomorrow and the next day, and maybe the next after that. When there was no full moon to worry about and you could let your best friend lay in your lap just ‘cause he could. ‘Cause he wanted to, maybe. 

When the sky turned lilac, a candy floss pink at the horizon with the setting sun, James and Sirius were dressed again and Remus had slept on you for an hour or two. You could all smell dinner coming from the kitchens, the dull bustling noises from the hall as students gathered. Remus stood as the other boys argued, something nonsensical, a debate Remus was ignoring. He helped you to your feet even though he ached, smiling bashfully with pink cheeks as he stared at you for a beat too long. 

There was a crease along his jaw from the hem of your dress, a sign he’d napped all too well. It was a nicer sight to see than the new scars and before you could stop yourself, you ran a finger over the silver line on his throat, the one that went from the nape of his neck and round and down, disappearing into his collar. Remus stilled as you did, hardly breathing as he let you touch him, lips parted in surprise but his gaze fond all the same. 

“Does it still hurt?”

The boy shook his head, standing too close, toes touching. “Nah, m’fine. It’s fine.” His voice was a pretty rasp, hoarse from sleep, quiet as if not to startle you. “Lily fixed me up this morning.”

You’d been right. But it didn’t stop the awful stab of jealousy, a sharp pain between your ribs and bloomed and grew like weeds. You told yourself you were being silly, that you had no reason to feel such a thing. Especially since James had taken to spending his free periods in the library, trailing after the red headed girl, gazing at her like you looked at Remus. 

You cleared your throat and nodded, smiling a little tight as you dropped your hand. Maybe Remus was a little more awake than you’d once thought, ‘cause he bent at the knees a little, just enough to catch your nervous gaze with his and smile at you. He was still sleep soft, all blushing cheeks and tired eyes. 

“Days like these?” He prompted, voice low enough that the other boys didn’t overhear as they made their way to the castle. “With you?”

You could hear your heartbeat, could feel it in your ears, could feel the rattle of your bones. You wondered if Remus could too. 

“They help me a lot, y’know. When it’s finally done and I get back?” He nodded towards the castle, chin lifting to the tower where your beds sat. “When the guys get me home and I can lie down, I always think about you before I fall asleep. What you’ll read to me the next day, what pretty dress you’ll be wearing.”

Your breath hitched and your shoulder bumped into Remus’ arm as you walked, a wide eye stare set on James’ broad back as you trailed behind them. You could feel Remus watching you, could feel the way he smiled. And when you were brave enough to look back, face feeling too warm, you wrinkled your nose and asked:

“Yeah? Really?”

Remus nodded, chin ducking to his chest like he suddenly wasn’t as brave with your eyes on him. “All your dresses are pretty,” he added. “But s’not the point. All of you help me. James, Pads, Lily.”

His hand brushed yours, pinky finger touching your own for a beat too long to be accidental and the boy kept his gaze on the grass as he walked. He cleared his throat, brows stitching together as he tried to find the right words. 

“They all help me. But you help me the most.” A pause, long and filled with something you couldn’t put your finger on. Tangerines, old books, new scars, cheeks pressed to legs and honey brown eyes in the sun. “When it’s all over? When it’s done?  You make me feel like me again.”

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin blurb #mauraders #marauders x you #marauders x y/n #maruaders x reader #harry potter fanfiction #the mauraders

[camelotsstuff]

au in which andrew is a linguistics major, and neil who is a math major and is completely whipped for andrew, tries to impress him and fails miserably:

andrew walks around neil’s dorm room, surveying the shelves of books lined up perfectly by edition.

“you have two copies of peter pan.” andrew says, sliding one off the shelf.

neil clears his throat. “yeah one of them is english and the other is french.”

“french”

neil nods. “yeah i learned it from my mother. i’m quite a fan of french literature.”

“i wasn’t aware peter pan was considered french literature.”

“oh, sure. with a name like peter?”

“peter is a greek name.”

neil grins. “so is andrew.”

“why french literature then?” andrew continues, unimpressed.

“i don’t know. it’s less pretentious,” he shrugs.

andrew picks up a book from the top of a stack on the nightstand, “and…anna karenina isn’t pretentious?”

“well that depends who’s reading it and why. if i told you i read it to help me fall asleep you wouldn’t call me pretentious would you.”

“do you?”

“do i what.”

“read anna karenina to help you fall asleep.”

“oh god no, that’s what les mis is for.”

andrew furrows his eyes. “you just said that you liked french literature.”

neil starts fidgeting with his fingers. “yeah, i was talking more like the little prince and uh… peter pan.”

andrew hums.

“neil, do you know where your name comes from?”

neil shakes his head.

“it’s scottish. you know what else is scottish?”

“whiskey?”

“peter pan.”

beil laughs nervously, “go figure.”

“this isn’t your room is it.”

neil sighs, “it’d kevins.”

“and im guessing you’re not a lit major.”

neil shakes his head. “but, the part of me speaking french wasn’t a lie. I do.”

“terrific.”

#aftg #neil josten #all for the game #andrew minyard #andreil #aaron minyard #allison reynolds #matt boyd #renee walker #kevin day

[pricesbeltbuckle]

i needed to share this because who else but you

i cant stop thinking of cowgirl reader and soap together such an odd couple but oh does it feel right (kinda self insert im sorry😓)

Ride Cowgirl, Ride - John 'Soap' Mactavish

You know what anon you’re onto something…I love this dynamic. Pairing: John 'Soap' Mactavish x Fem!Cowgirl Reader

Warnings: None, Fluff

When Soap told the 141 boys he had a girlfriend they all expected a city girl or even another scottish girl.

So when you walked in in your little denim shorts with a tank top and a flannel to cover it topping it off with some cowgirl boots and pigtails with bows at the end it’s the least to say that everyone was shocked.

When they all asked where you were from and you responded in a thick country accent “Oh I'm from Texas!” They all knew they were in for a treat when they heard that accent.

When soap would talk to you and they could all hear you respond it was so fascinating to hear the difference.

“I swear John could talk the hide off a cow.” 

“What does that even mean?” Is exactly Gaz’s first question

“Means I talk alot mate.” Because you had taught soap your slang around 5 months ago he's been used to it.

They all automatically ask the same question “Do you have a pet horse and can we learn how to ride it?”

“Yes I do! Her name is Peanut and yeah I can bring her round here sometime for you fellas.”

One time further down the line when Ghost pissed you off you just yelled at him “Pull in your horns!!” and he looked at you like “🤨”

“Means back off Simon!!” You’d both hear Soap yell from down the hall as he was holding up your favorite snack you ran towards him

“Aw John! I’m as happy as a flea in a dog house!” You’d take the snack from him and skip down the hall somewhere else to see someone else around the base

“She was just hungry, sorry Simon.”

Now I think Price would understand some of your slang just cause he’s a bit of a cowboy so sometimes you’d have conversations with him.

I genuinely think soap is so fascinated with the fact you can ride a horse that sometimes he’ll just watch you and I mean he’ll sit there for hours and watch you for no reason.

He has probably pissed you off once and you got all mad at him southern style and he backed off after that and bought you some flowers and some new bows for your hair.

He flexes you off while off on deployment. if he’s on an undercover mission and a lady hits on him all he’ll say is “Are you a cowgirl who has a horse named Peanut? No? Then keep moving, Lass.” 

Has probably picked up on your slang while on missions

“Quit yer yammerin'.” “Johnny what?” “It means shut up.” Was a genuine conversation he had over the coms with Ghost.

I def wanna do more with this maybe make an AU IDK AHHHH

#cod x reader #cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #mw2 #cod fluff #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #soap x reader #soapghost #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap mw2 #john soap mctavish #soapgaz #x reader #cowgirl #cowboy

[sparkarrestor]

So we all know that Awdry originally had James as a GSWR Class 403 since it fit the description of an inside-cylinder mogul, but later changed James to be an English design. This post stems off the thought of "What If Awdry kept James Scottish?"

This whole thing was also brought on by @mean-scarlet-deceiver's Tales of the G&SW excerpts.

Beware, my writing of a Scottish accent is terrible, try not to cringe.

What If Scottish James

Written By: SparkArrester

1929

James was in a foul mood. Henry, like usual, failed. Now he was stuck with his coal train. That he had to arrange himself. Apparently the new shunter was busy with something that wasn’t shunting.

“Stupid Trucks, stupid coal, stupid everythingggg”, He moaned as he marshalled his train, “All that time being cleaned was a waste!”

The trucks, sensing an opportunity for mischief, made it their mission to give James the worst morning possible. They jammed their brakes, ran hot axles boxes, and some even derailed in the yard. The breaking point was when an old tippler’s front hatch flew open. Coal poured out onto the rails, and onto James, coating his front end. The trucks all burst out laughing, but they were soon cut off.

“Yee wretched little INGRATES!”, Burst out James in a perfect scottish dialect, “Ye all oor jus’ little devious muckle nuisances that are no fit ta scrape ta scale oof me boiler, ye little wee gobshites!”

This continued for some time, until James heard a familiar whistle, and immediately blanched. Percy rolled in looking gobsmacked.

“Err, uhh, hey James?”

“Wha arr ye -ahem- what are, uh, you doing here Percy?”

“Coming to take over the shunting.”

“Ah, right.”

“...”

“... Percy.”

“Yes?”

“Please don’t tell anyone…”

“James, I’m pretty sure everyone on this side of the island heard you.”

“... Dang it.”

1951

James sat there, covered in tar. His crew had already gone to the station to phone for help, and one of the old Suddery Tanks brought a crane to assist. He was hoping for an engine like Edward or Henry to take him to the works. In the meantime, quietly grumbling to himself was good enough. In fact, he was so absorbed with himself that he forgot his surroundings.

“Stupid wee muckle nuisances…”, he muttered, “Stupid Toby. If ‘e wasnae a huge prat my red coat wouldnae be in ruins. Honestly, those wee branchline engines are nothing but great big pieces ‘o-”

A ring of a bell broke him out of his thoughts. He jumped back as he realized Toby and Percy were right beside him. He prayed they hadn’t heard him. They did.

“Ark ay Percy!”, Chortled Toby in a terrible Scottish accent, “Whatever isnae that dirty object!”

“That isn’t even how you use isnae…”, muttered James, but of course they took no notice.

They continued speaking in terrible accents all the way to the sheds. James didn’t know if he should be angry at their teasing, or their complete butchering of his old dialect (one he had tried his hardest to shake), so he settled for both. 

1959

The Fat Controller had brought a new goods engine to help out. James was glad at first, now someone else could work the pick-up goods while he got more passengers. He had heard that there was something up with the new engine when it had arrived, but he didn’t put much stock into it. Later in the day, he was backing down on what would hopefully be his last pick-up goods in a while when he heard a whistle. A deep-toned whistle that he had not heard in years. James grimaced as a Caledonian steam engine pulled up on the adjacent line, giving him the stink eye.

“Well Well Well…” The Caledonian spat, “A Sou’-West engine. And one of Pee-Wee Drummond’s oven-boxes! Ah hoped we saw the last ‘o ye back ‘ome!”

“The feeling is most certainly mutual!” He replied with vitriol that wasn’t really there. He hoped to leave everything pre-sodor behind. But of course it had found him. At least he still had a slight bad opinion towards the Caledonian, it did him good in this confrontation.

“Ark aye!”, Exclaimed the Caledonian, “Why do ye soond like tha?”

James was taken aback, “Like what?”

“There it is again! Aye Douggie!”

The question of who “Douggie” was got itself answered quickly, when an identical Caledonian  engine pulled up besides the first.

“Aye Donnie. What’s up!”

“Wait wait, just let that Sou’-West engine speak!”

James defiantly shut his mouth, but then his crew chose that exact time to ask him something. He replied as quietly as possible. But not quiet enough.

“O Aye!” Exclaimed “Douggie”, “He soonds like a wee sassenach!”

James went red in the face, “Well! I-I-I-”

“Tha accent is ass!” Chortled “Donnie”, and soon “Dougie” joined in.

They continued until James left, his face matching his paintwork. He put a good few months practicing his accent, and it was hard. He now figured out what exactly was up with the new engine: there were two of them, and they both sucked.

#ttte #ttte james #ttte percy #ttte donald #ttte douglas #ttte toby #what if scottish James #General RWS Stuff

[ghcstao3]

civilian au where ghost and soap “meet” when soap, sad and drunk one night, tries to call his ex but ends up misdialling and calling ghost instead

normally ghost doesn’t pick up calls he doesn’t expect, but something compels him this time—though, when a blabbering scottish accent begins pouring through his phone’s speaker, he’s inclined to immediately hang up. but as ghost listens, he hesitates. he lets the stranger rant angrily and longingly to the wrong person, because honestly? probably better ghost than the actual intended person.

ghost waits until the other man pauses to take a breath, waits on static and a distant crackling to tentatively tell the stranger, “i don’t know who you are, or who you’re talking about, but doesn’t sound like they deserve you.”

soap freezes on his end of the line, something so sobering about that deep manc accent, so unfamiliar but so welcoming, but he doesn’t hang up. doesn’t apologize or spew some excuse.

they just start talking.

about anything and everything, whatever to get soap’s mind off his ex.

and by the end of their call, early in the morning, soap never gets a name even when the other man knows soap’s. he does, however, go through his outbound calls and save the number in his phone, just in case.

and on ghost’s end, he does the same.

#john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #alternate universe

[luvrlou]

What Happens in Mykonos Stays in Mykonos

Pairing: Wroetoshaw x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking

Summary: After a drunken night of clubbing Harry and Y/N exchange some intoxicated words.

A/N: Heart eyes for Harry

Word Count: 1.8k

"Harry and Cal are sleeping, and Y/N is watching a movie, I think?" Callum told his camera, this made me look up.

"I'm seeing how close we are to landing," I replied, Callum zooming his camera into me. "We're landing in about an hour and a half."

The man nodded, "we should probably wake up the boys, they'll want drinks before we get off." I agreed, going to wake up the boy on my left, Cal.

"Fuck off Callum!" He groaned, coming to his senses, "oh, hey Y/N!" He smiled seeing it was me waking up.

"Hello Cal," I replied.

"Here, what's this!" He chirped, looking at the drink on my table, "a cheeky malibu and pineapple juice, interesting." He observed, reaching to take a drink.

"Woah there! That's mine!" I replied, grabbing the cup before he could. I swiftly downed the drink, before muttering a snarky, get your own to the lanky boy.

I looked over to the end of the row to see Harry groggily talking to Callum. The plane was separated into rows of four, an aisle splitting them in half. I sat in the window seat, Cal in the seat next to me, Harry and Callum sat in the other side.

Before we knew it the flight attendant was back to cruising up and down the aisle with the drinks trolley. When she reached our row we all gave her a list of drinks, a Guinness for Callum, Malibu and pineapple juice for me, white wine for Cal and a vodka coke for Harry.

Since we were at the back of the plane the woman seemed to have all the time in the world, she handed the boys their drinks. While she handed me mine she spoke, "so what one of these lucky boys is your boyfriend?"

The question caused me to laugh, "none of them, I'm just an old friend!'

"Really?" She seemed extremely shocked by my answer, "I mean you're gorgeous how could they not be all over you!" Her comment made Callum laugh while Harry reddened.

"Awk thank you!" I smiled back at the attendant. She smiled back before walking back up the aisle.

"Did you see Harry's face!" Cal cackled, looking at the embarrassed boy at the end of the row.

"Shut up Cal!" He shouted back, sipping his vodka-infused drink. His clear irritation made me, Cal and Callum laugh between ourselves.

We spent the remaining hour or so on our phones, sparing a few words between the four of us every few minutes.

"This is your captain speaking, we will be touching the ground in about fifteen minutes, the weather is lovely so the landing should be smooth." The strong Scottish accent, which belonged to the captain, boomed over the speakers that lined the sides of the aircraft.

Much to my surprise, getting through the airport was extremely fast, I'm assuming everyone was in need of a cocktail. Luckily our villas were about twenty minutes in a taxi.

"Okay, who wants what villa?" Cal said, as we all arrived in front of the two villas.

"I call dibs on this one!" I shouted, running up to the door of the one on the left, "I saw on Booking.com that this one had a hot tub in it!"

"Oh yeah! I want that!" Callum exclaimed, joining me at the door.

"Okay, Harry and I will take this one," Cal concluded, walking towards the one on the right, Harry following.

Callum and I chose our rooms, despite them being almost exact parallels to each other. Mine had a king-sized bed with white and dark blue bed sheets, and a bathroom attached. It also had a large mirrored wardrobe and a small balcony with a deck chair.

"Y/N! Callum! We're going out soon!" Harry's voice echoed up through the white bricked stairwell.

I could hear Callum run downstairs, "I'll be like twenty minutes!" I shouted down.

I went over to my case looking for something nice to wear, I was thinking of a summer dress of some sort since I've been sweating buckets since I got here. I rummaged through my case, picking out a white lacy dress. I put it on and coated my eyelashes with some mascara and slipped my feet into a pair of wedge sandles.

"Coming!" I yelled as I approached the top of the stairs.

I jogged down the stairs, when I reached the boys they had just finished their cans of beer. "You look lovely Y/N," Harry commented as they all stood up.

"Aw thanks, Harry!" I gushed at the boy in front of me. "Right let us go! I need to get pished!" My statement received cheers from the boys.

We all ventured out of the villa complex and found a club which was about five minutes away. "What does everyone want to drink?" Callum asked.

"A piña colada please," I asked, the boys all asked for one too, sending Callum on his way. "I needed this getaway." I stated.

"Same, London is getting too stressful these days," Cal replied, causing Harry to hum in reply.

We all grinned thirstily when Callum came back with four piña coladas, we all grabbed one.

"To Mykonos, and Harry for suggesting this holiday!" Cal cheered lifting his cocktail. We all clinked glasses and took a sip out of them.

About four cocktails later we got up to leave, I could tell that Harry and Cal were on the tipsy side, surprisingly Callum and I were more on the sober side.

At the next club Cal immediately got up to get tequila shots from the bar, Callum's face was full of regret. "Getting flashbacks to the last time we did shots?" I laughed.

"Fuck off Y/N!" He groaned.

"Shots!" Cal bellowed, returning to the table with a tray of sixteen shots on it.

We all took four each and sat them in front of us. "Last to finish them buys the next round!" I challenged, picking up one of the shots.

I downed mine quickly, taking the next one as soon as the liquid slipped down my throat. "Harry! Drinks are on you!" Callum laughed, pushing him towards the bar.

"We'll all have margaritas, make sure they have limes on them!" Cal ordered.

When Harry returned we all started to drink our margaritas, "Y/N, what are the odds, out of ten, that you'll do body shots off of Harry!" Cal asked.

Harry's complexion instantly grew rosy, "okay." I agreed, waiting for Callum to count us in.

"3.. 2.. 1.." He counted.

"7!" We both shouted.

"Yes!" Cal and Callum shouted in unison, high-fiving each other. "We'll go get salt and a lime!"

"Are you okay with this Harry?" I asked the blonde boy next to me.

"Yeah," he hummed, "it's all a bit of fun, yeah."

When the boys returned they had massive smiles on their faces, Callum with a tub of salt, and Cal with a lime and a tequila shot. "Come here Harry," Callum said to the red-faced boy.

Callum dipped his finger in his margarita and put some salt on it, rubbing the salt and sticking it to Harry's neck. Cal handed him the lime and sat the shot on the table.

"Have fun Y/N!" Cal drunkenly giggled. I made eye contact with the boy and went to lick the salt off his neck. I downed the shot, receiving whistles and cheers from the two boys. Lastly, I took the lime from Harry's mouth.

"Look at Harry!" Callum yelled, making me burst out laughing and remove the lime from my mouth.

"Sorry, Harry," I smiled softly, kissing his cheek chastely.

We got one last round of shots, this time they were Sambuca shots. "Come on, I need some chips," I announced. The boys all hummed i agreement.

Luckily, there was a street food shop down the street from the club we were sitting in.

"Excuse me," Harry asked the man who as behind the counter, "do you guys do just chips?"

"Yes." The man answered.

"Can we have four portions, please," He asked, the man nodded in return.

"Where's Freezy?" I asked, looking for my lanky companion.

As if on cue the blonde boy entered the restaurant, a bottle of white wine in his hand, making me grin wildly.

"God bless you Cal Freezy!" I beam, running over to him, stumbling drunkenly. He handed me the bottle letting me take a swig before snatching it back.

Cal and I sat up at the high window tables, swapping the wine between us, waiting for Callum and Harry to arrive with the chips.

When they came over they chucked the styrofoam boxes of chips down on the table and flung themselves onto the chairs. I smiled when I felt Harry drop his head onto my shoulder.

"You can have the last of the wine," Cal mumbled, handing me the bottle. I quickly downed it before digging into my chips.

"Are we going to head back to the villas after this?" Callum inquired, finishing his chips.

"Nah, I want to stay out!" I argued back.

"I'm going back after," Cal stated, clearly having had too much to drink.

"I'll stay out Y/N!" Harry answered, which made me cheer with happiness and embrace him tightly.

After eating we went our separate ways, Callum and Cal went back to the villa complex. Harry and I went further into the area we were staying, looking for yet another club.

After about 10 minutes of walking, we came across another brightly lit nightclub, we both entered, going straight up to the bar. I ordered a pink gin and Harry ordered a vodka and lemonade.

After drinking both of our drinks we got onto the dance floor. Wrapping my arms around his neck we swayed together to the music, one of his arms draped over my waist.

"You look beautiful tonight Y/N," he mumbled, his face extremely close to mine.

I could feel his hot breath fan over my face. "You're just saying that because you're drunk." I whispered.

"No Y/N, I've always thought this, I think I'm falling in love with you," his drunken voice raved.

I was speechless, the only thing I could think to do was kiss his soft lips. Our mouths tasted of straight alcohol as they fought against each other. When we leaned back he sent me a goofy smile.

"I think I'm falling in love with you too."

"Let's take this back to the villa, yeah?" He asked, leading me off the dance floor.

"Fuck yeah!" I giggled following him out of the venue.

"What.. the.. fuck." Cal's shocked voice echoed through the now lit-up room, I looked up and around the room. It was Harry's room, the flashbacks from the night before started to fill my once hazy memory.

"Oh shit!" I shrieked, waking up Harry, who had an equally shocked expression.

"Fucking hell! Callum will love this!" Cal burst out laughing, cackling as he left the room.

#wroetoshaw x reader #w2s x reader #sidemen x reader #harry lewis x reader #harry lewis imagine #sidemen imagine #lou writes fanfic #Spotify

[homicidal-slvt]

"Heaven Knocked"

-

MDNI

-

John 'Soap' Mactavish x F!Reader

Civilian|Y/N

-

Inspired by @sofasoap

-

Warnings: Cheesy Fluff, Mention of asshat dudes

-

You have had so many bad experiences with pick up lines being thrown your way- eyes that wander in a way they shouldn't. Cockiness, self-righteous, and generally horrendous attitudes of men that cross your path.

Just recently yet another failed date where you were forced to sit and listen to a guy mansplain your own job to you.

God, these shitheads need to be glitter bombed.

Standing outside now beneath the harsh rays of sunlight, eyes cast out towards the rolling sea. The breeze at least made the heat not so unbearable.

The sound of a new pair of feet approaching dragged you out of your head.

"Beautiful day, yeah?"

His thick Scottish accent definitely peaked your interest, taking in his features carefully you felt your heart freeze for a second... Those eyes.

The rolling blue of them mimicked the sea perfectly, so much hidden beneath the surface- something you could certainly get lost in if you weren't careful.

So, for your own sake you quickly looked away.

"Yeah... It is a beautiful day..."

You weren't sure if the conversation was going to go anywhere or how to take it anywhere- this man is a stranger but you prayed he'd talk more.

You tried to convince yourself it's just because he has a nice accent.

Or maybe his little mohawk was endearing in a way.

Or those blue eyes-

No... Stop that.

"Ever go swimming out there?"

"What- no. Are you crazy?"

You looked at him as though he'd lost his mind- earning a laugh.

Who in their right mind would swim in the ocean?

Sure- people do it. But you wouldn't be caught dead stepping foot in that giant death soup.

"Bet it'd be cool on a day like today."

"I'd rather cool off with ice cream."

With a small flicker in his eyes he turned towards you, you created the perfect opening for him... He was wondering how to lead into this.

"How about we go get some ice cream, then?"

"Y'know what- sure."

••

Of course one date lead to several and you didn't regret chatting with that friendly stranger for a single moment.

Sure- he uses cheesy pick up lines nearly constantly... But it's sweet.

There is nothing shallow in the way he looks at you and there is never any 'just trying to get in your pants' type attitude.

Instead he just wants to see you smile and laugh, heart warming to say the least.

He waltzed into the kitchen and you knew just based off his grin.

"Johnny-"

"Bonnie ye won't believe what just happened."

"I'm sure I won't."

He wasn't even mildly discouraged by your remark, resting his hands on the counter keeping his eyes locked on you. Deep rolling blue.

"Heaven knocked and they want their angel back."

You knew it was coming but still chuckled nonetheless.

"Are you seriously going to use a pick-up line on me everytime you come over?"

"Yep."

"Won't you run out?"

"Not anytime soon."

You sighed and pretended to be annoyed... But you hoped he'd never run out.

It's not like other guys cheesy pick up lines... No... Never.

At this point you swore Johnny is the angel that heaven is missing.

"Think you're hiding some wings or somethin' from me..."

"Aha! I'm rubbing off on ye."

"Oh, cut it out."

-

{My brain is so silly recently.}

-

{@gothgirl6-6-6 @soupbinsoup }

-

{More Content}

#john mactavish x reader #john mactavish x f!reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x f!reader #john mactavish x you #johnny mactavish x you #john mactavish fluff #johnny mactavish #john 'soap' mactavish #john 'soap' mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x you #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish fluff #soap x reader #soap fluff #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x you #call of duty x you #cod fluff #call of duty fluff #soap x you #vee's cod works #john mactavish #john soap mactavish

[brewed-pangolin]

Pangolin I have a brain worm to share with you after seeing that Soap picking up the person sitting alone in a bar - who’s more likely to approach? Captain MacTavish or Sergeant MacTavish?

Ooohhh, I love this.

As someone who actually appreciates sitting in the quiet corner of a bar, escaping reality with a few hard earned pints. I can tell you quite confidently that both of these men would approach you in their own distinctive manner.

Yet this round goes to Johnny and his natural ease to deploy some charismatic vernacular that would have you begging for more within a matter of minutes. And your mind is nothing more than a virgin vessel lost within the turbulent sea of his bright blue eyes.

He'd eye you across the bar like a cat on the prowl for its next meal. Laser focused, stubbornly confident, and effortlessly begin to move through the crowd until he very blatantly sat himself in the barstool at your side.

You'd acknowledge his presence with a heavy sigh. Rolling your eyes while your lips cradled the rim of the tall beer glass and put up an air of annoyance to the very thought of being spoken to.

"Wha's the matter, lass? Ya allergic ta confidence, er d'ya need somethin a bit more persuasive ta git ya outta tha' hardass shell?"

You were half expecting some corny pick-up line to come rolling over his lips. So the outrageous self assurance oozing out and around him had you conflicted on whether or not to slap him in the face or all together humor him for his outspoken boldness.

You immediately decided to go with the latter.

Feigning an irrated glance, you took him in and were instantly drawn into the deep swirling pools of his eyes. The luminous light of the bar reflecting off their galvanic blue fibers.

Breaking the concrete walls of your solitude with ease. Crushing them into a fine dust and quickly making you want nothing more than to hear that unbridled Scottish assertiveness once more while you attempted to find some semblance of coherent words in the sudden blankness of your mind.

"Persuasion." You replied eventually on a hushed whisper, barely audible amongst the boisterous sounds of the bar.

Yet it's connotation ringing clear on the movements of your lips as a broad smile creased along the length of his mouth.

"Persuasion, eh?" He nodded, only now making you notice his defined and crested scalp.

"Aye. Ah canne think'a nothin' better."

He moved in closer. Invading your space with ease and you made no inclination to pull away as he brought his mouth within inches of the sensitive flesh of your ear.

"How 'bout I persuade ya out this stool, lass? Take a seat on somethin a bit more sturdy an' let ya enjoy a nice long scenic ride to Glasgow."

@deadbranch I'm sorry. I had to use this line. It's just too perfect not to use in this kind of scenario 💛

Drabbles Masterlist

#soap squad™️ #scenic ride to glasgow #id cave immediately #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap drabble #soap x you #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x you #johnny mactavish x reader #cod drabble #call of duty #cod