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yawnderu · 6 months

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Cat and Mouse — König x Reader

CW: porn with barely any plot, primal play, hunter and prey, rough sex, previous consent, established relationships, anal fingering, König is too in love to fuck you hard, love-making.

A/N: I'm taking a very short break after this one, trying to work on my writer's block and to come up with better ideas. My inbox and dms are always open, I love getting random asks and talking to all of you!♡

The wind blew on your hair as you ran through the woods, barely managing to narrowly miss the trees when you turn back, the giant man chasing after you standing out easily— his imposing figure looking even more intimidating under the moonlight.

His cocky laugh encourages you to run faster, your heart beating in your ears when you hear him start chasing after you again, legs already exhausted from running nonstop for the past ten minutes, never once losing sight of the masked man matter how fast you ran. He was simply faster, with a better stamina that came from being a soldier most of his life. You gasp for air, lungs greedily taking in the oxygen as the world starts to blur out, the muffled sounds of nature around you doing nothing to help as you manage to find the strength to run.

"Get over here!" His loud voice overpowered your surroundings, burly arms wrapping around your waist before manhandling you onto the ground, holding you still no matter how much you tried to kick and scream.

In a pathetic attempt to escape him you throw a punch to his face that connects square on his jaw, the man's grip on you loosening slightly out of shock. You take the chance to try to run away again, barely managing to get on your knees before he's pushing your face down onto the cold, moist soil, the strong smell nulling your senses so bad you don't feel him pulling down your pants until the cold wind hits your bare cunt.

"Caught you, kleine maus." He taunts in a whisper, running one of his gloved fingers up and down your cunt, spreading the wetness all over it before he wets his thumb, pressing onto your puckered hole.

"Wait—" His hand comes down to deliver a hard slap to your ass, the whine of protest you let out doing nothing but make the blood rush faster to his cock. He manages to get his thumb in, fucking it in and out of your ass. You bite your hand in an attempt to muffle your tiny moans, the stimulation of all the nerves being touched by his thick thumb already getting to you, feeling your wet cunt clench around nothing, making the tall man behind you let out an amused, taunting laugh.

"Little mouse likes getting chased around like an animal, ja?" He's clearly trying to get into your head and it's working, not even protesting when you hear his zipper being pulled down, his heavy cock laid out on your ass. König is huge— you've seen it way too many times, felt it way too many times, yet it never fails to surprise you.

"Well, spatzi, you act like an animal—" His words are interrupted by a muffled groan, his cock sinking into you slowly, yet it's so painfully tight he never got used to it. He groaned as he finally bottomed out, a sharp hiss mixing in with your moaning.

"You get treated like one." He finished his sentence, his free hand holding onto the curve of your waist, fingers bruising the skin as he began to thrust into you, movements fast and desperate, your warm insides feeling way too good.

"Fuck— slow down, König." You plead pathetically even when that's the opposite of what you truly want, feeling the tip of his cock slam into the spongy spot of your cunt over and over, whiny moans mixing in with his loud groans and growls.

"No can do, Schatz." You can hear the shit-eating smirk he has under the sniper hood, almost making you smile before he starts to slam his hips into you faster, pulling his cock out all the way before slamming himself back in. You're reduced to a pathetic moaning mess as König drills into your cunt, hitting every single sensitive bundle of nerves along the way to hit your cervix.

He pulls out suddenly, making you feel empty for a second before he manhandles you onto your back, taking a second to admire your pretty, fucked-out face and body. One of his warm hands comes down to cup your cheek, thumb caressing the skin softly before he slowly pushes into you, this time much more gentle. Truth is, König wanted to fuck you. He wanted to fuck you good and hard, yet how can he resist the urge to make love to you when you look up at him with nothing but trust and adoration in your eyes?

"Pretty girl." He muses, holding his weight above you as his hips roll against yours, pushing himself deep inside with every single thrust. He's nothing like before— all the adrenaline from chasing you down fully gone as he simply focuses on making love to you, light blue eyes looking down at you with nothing short of raw devotion. Your legs wrap around his defined waist and he fucks into you harder, one of his gloved hands coming down between your bodies to rub on your hard clit.

"Fuck—" Your back arches, hips moving weakly to meet his thrusts, the double stimulation driving you closer and closer to the edge.

"That's it, my pretty girl." His masked lips are planted on your forehead for a soft kiss, his fingers rubbing faster and faster as he feels his cock twitch, wanting nothing else than to finish inside you.

"Can I come inside, liebling? Want me to fill you up...?" His masked face is buried into the crook of your neck, eyes closed tightly as he tried his best to get your consent before cumming.

"Need— need to cum inside. Fill you up with my babies, please." He was now getting whiny, images of your tummy stretched out carrying his baby with your tits full of milk raid his brain, numbing him out to everything around him other than the way your tight cunt suck him in.

"Yes— cum inside, baby." Your arms wrap around his neck while your thighs hold him on a leg lock, pushing him even deeper into your cunt, not allowing his stuttering hips to pull out much as he ruts into you, his fingers going back to rub your clit, your bodies uniting as one in a display of love and passion, orgasms hitting together like a tidal wave. Your cunt tightens up around him, his balls emptying all the way deep inside you, a low growl coming out of his lips.

He tries his best not to collapse on top of you, managing to pull out slowly and lay down next to you, pulling you closer to him. He takes deep breaths, his big hand gently massaging your scalp before looking down at you, meeting your gaze. You can't see it because of the mask, yet the way his eyes soften and turn into crescents is enough for you to know he's smiling.

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crowdiminico · 2 years

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Ghost and Soap giving these vibes in MWII

#call of duty #cod #cod mwii #cod mw22 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw spoilers #cod mw2 spoilers #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #jhonny soap MacTavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare ii #mw2022

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fly-boy-hal · 2 years

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sorry folks I can't hold myself to post this.

#cod mw22 #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare 2 #is this count as a spoiler?

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andiboyo · 1 year

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HEADCANONS FOR COD MEN

The following includes (John Price, John MacTavish, Simon Riley, Philip Graves, and Alejandro Vargas)

"Price" John Price

-Very professional at first when dating, he’s a very respectable guy but later he’s just mush in your hands

-This man loves you with all his heart, poor man’s an old sap, but he’s your old sap <3

-Prepare for a lot of teasing from teammates

-If you’re in the military, he’s 100% for it, but will treat you the same as his soldiers on the battleground, little cracks include when missions start or end

-He’s very worried for you, he’s scared to see you getting hurt

-If you’re a normal civilian waiting for him at home you bet your ass he’s a domestic goofball

-He loves you, and any chance he gets he’s putting a ring on that finger

-Loves taking you to dinner either way, a gentleman

-You’re pretty much best buds with 141

-Quality time is his best strong suit, he’s an old man so he’s got more time on his hands

“Soap” Johnny McTavish

-Scotsman, 100% teases you 24/7

-Loves the look of his flustered S/O

-Don’t even get him started on if his S/O’s in the military, always one eye open for them

-But otherwise, he believes in your strength, he’s just never had such deep love for a person as he has with you

-After every mission good or bad, kiss on the forehead, he’s affectionate

-If you’re a normal civilian he’s spilling the beans on military life, nothing gruesome though, you're the light of his life and he doesn’t want you hearing too much of his military brutality and sacrifices

-Overall he’s an attentive lover that gives gifts, he’s all for dates but since he’s on the younger side he’s always getting called in

-He loves you though and send you letters every week <3

“Ghost” Simon Riley

-Serious on the battlefield before and after, but in private?

-This man is a cuddle bug

-Love him <33

-He's just so clingy

-If you're in the military he’s alright with that, doesn’t doubt your abilities and has good expectations for having his S/O with him

-If you’re a normal civilian chances are how you met is you are friends with one of the 141 members and they introduced you to him

-One thing led to the next

-And you got together

-It takes time but he’ll take off his mask

-He lets you do the honors, but it takes a bit for him to warm up to that idea

-So expect to sleep with a man still wearing his skull mask

-Overall a sweetheart and a fine gentleman, he likes spending quality time with you whenever he can, little souvenirs too from the battlefield

-Very shy to ask for anything, hugging, kissing, handholding? This man has had a few women in his life maybe, yeah, but you’re his first true love, he’s putty in your hands

(Lord have mercy)

“Graves” Philip Graves

-He prefers a S/O that’s a normal civilian

-If you’re in the military and he takes a liking to you, then he’s gonna be wrapped around your finger

-He’s just so worried of the future that if he knows you face danger every day it’s gonna be a weigh on his shoulders

-He doesn’t mind it, he doesn’t doubt your abilities he’s just very worried

-Now, if you’re a civilian and he falls in love with you, he’s such a protective Boyfriend/Husband

-Loves you to bits

-Will never stop talking to you about missions and just wants you safe

-Hand holding 24/7

-He’s very shy when asking for things like hugs, just not used to it as much

-Gift giving and Quality time

-Best of both worlds with this man

(screaming)

“Alejandro” Alejandro Vargas

-OH

-MI VIDA <3333

-Do not think he will judge whether you're in the military or a civilian

-He loves you no matter what

-Race? Ethnicity? Doesn't matter?

-Having a hispanic S/O? Great! You bond some more!

-American S/O who doesn’t know spanish? He’s using unknown compliments in spanish to his advantage

-Im sorry

-He's just so fine

-Now, he's a man of quality time, compliment giving

-But in his line of work, he’ll tease a lot, though serious, he needs a few laidback moments

-If you’re in the military, he’ll be one step behind you

-If you’re a normal civilian, he's always coming back to you with open arms a̶n̶d̶ ̶o̶p̶e̶n̶ ̶l̶e̶g̶s̶

-He’s only nervous about one thing, kissing, mans always asks you even if you’ve reassured him one-hundred times

-------

A/N

hey all! It's been a bit. Im alive. Been a good minute hasn't it? Not really going to be running a schedule again but if you'd like to request any characters from these fandoms go ahead! It might motivate me to write more! Thank you <3

-COD MW2

-Marvel

-Resident Evil

-Arthur Morgan

-Overwatch

Love you all!

- Andi

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emmster · 23 days

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First 6 pages done of the crossover comic 👀

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rj-opp · 6 months

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MW Spoilers mcd!!!

Make sure that you have no regrets later.

#cod mw3 #mw3 #mw3 spoilers #ghostsoap #soapghost #simon x johnny #johnny x simon #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #cod mw2 #modern warfare 2

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jay-wasstuff · 2 years

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Artist: @steelforgecanis

I think less clothes will help for uh, mobility purposes

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atlantic-sugar · 1 year

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You’re My Favourite Gift

Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

Summary: Presents and confessions

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters

Warnings: teeth-rotting fluff

Word count: 1.5k

Taglist: @benjification

Notes:

(c/g) = Christmas Gift

OOC GHOST!!

NOT PROOFREAD!!

Masterlist

“No way! You didn’t!” You gasped as you held up the new (c/g) you’ve been wanting since it came out in shops.

“Oh my gosh! Thank you so much!” You wrapped your arms around Price’s torso giving him a big hug. He chuckled as he patted your back.

“No problem (Name). You deserve it after all the hard work. So do the rest of you. I know it’s upsetting that we couldn’t get home for Christmas this year, but I’m happy I’m spending it with all of you.” Price smiled.

“We’re all grateful for you too Cap.” Kyle started only for Johnny to interrupt. “So we’ve got ya a lil somethin’!” He hands Price a nicely wrapped gift.

Price takes the present gently. “You didn’t have to get me anything lads. I was already-” “See, I told you he would pull the ‘you didn’t have to get me anything’ card!”

The guys around you laughed. All except Simon. You looked over at the man who was lounging farthest away from the rest.

Deciding to make your way towards him, you started to get up only to hear a small gasp from Price. “Lads. Now this…this is something.”

Price looked down at the expensive packet of cigars and a framed picture of 141 after their first successful mission together. Gaz, Soap, Ghost, Quipt and Price. All together. Soap had so much dirt on his face Price pointed it out to Kyle beside him.

“Soap you look like an idiot.” Kyle laughed aloud. “What do you mean?! I look bloody gorgeous in any picture.” Soap exclaimed. Even though he knew he looked like an absolute mess in the photograph, he knew the meaning behind it was important.

“Yeah you fabulous in this picture too?” You asked, holding up your lock screen with a selfie you snuck with Soap one day getting the rest of the task force in the picture. Only you and Soap posed as the rest only looked up without realising they were in a picture.

“Gah! That looks- heheh I look great!” He awkwardly laughed. “Not going to lie, you look great with that filter.” Gaz pointed out. Everyone laughed again as the fire crackled from the fireplace.

“I have one more gift actually!” You got up from the carpet and walked over to the Christmas tree, picking up a small squared box.

“Simon this is for you- I know you said you didn’t want anything but…” Turning around you were about to give it to a special someone, only for them to be gone.

Letting out a small ‘oh’, you’re smile slightly faltered. “I’m going to go find him. He’ll miss the dinner if he’s gone.” You told the group who nodded at you. Most of them getting up to set up the last bit of the food.

Determined to get your gift to Simon you began your search. Looking into his office, nothing. Courtyard, nothing. Finally reaching his room, you saw a small light from under the door.

Taking in a deep breath you knocked on the door. Nerves banging up inside of you. You were finally going to tell him. Tell him how you feel.

“Who is it.” Simon’s gruff voice could be heard from his room. “Hey, it’s me. Can I come in?” You asked. Silence followed. You waited for some time to see if he’d answer.

Nothing.

You sighed. It’s not like Christmas was over because of this, but it was disappointing. Even after building up all that courage.

“Dinner is ready. So if you want to have it with the rest of us, it’s best you come down soon.” You mumbled and walked away from the door.

Before entering the room where the rest of the group were, you shook off all the feels and marched inside. You put away Simon’s gift under the tree again to keep it safe.

“Will L.t. be joining us?” Soap asked. You shrugged your shoulders. “I’m not sure. I hope he does.” Just as you two finished, the doors reopened and Simon walked in.

Helping Price bring over the rest of the food with Gaz, you all sat down. (Price sat at the top of the table of course.) You sat beside Johnny. While Kyle and Simon sat across from you two.

“Alright then. Let’s eat!” Price announced and Johnny immediately began to eat up everything.

~~~~~

Light Christmas music could be heard from the living room. Everyone had finished their food and have headed off doing their own thing.

Simon walked towards the fireplace and sat down. Looking and the flashing lights from the Christmas tree he looked over.

Noticing a small present underneath the tree, he stared at it. Curiosity eventually got the best of him. Getting up from the sofa he stalked towards the tree.

Kneeling down he looked at the small tag on the present. Doesn’t say who it’s from but there is a name.

To: Simon

He stared the small box. He thought about leaving it there. Maybe it was for someone else. Dumbass, he’s the only Simon around.

Slowly he began to peel back the neatly wrapped paper. Checking his surroundings to see if anyone had seen him.

He looked at the small black box. Slowly opening it, his eyes widened. It was a watch. A black watch with a silver designs engraved in it.

Attached to the leather band was a small ghost charm. He stared at the small gift in his large hand. A note was attached to the top of the inside of the box.

“Dear Simon. I know you didn’t want anything for Christmas but I had to get you something. I hope you like it!

Ps: I fancy you”

Simon stared at the bottom of the note. “I fancy you.” He felt a small smile tug onto his face. ‘Fancy?’ What are you guys in, secondary school?

He rose up to his full height with the box in hand. He felt his face was warmer than it first was under his mask.

He had to find you. Thank you. Tell you.

He left the room and began to yours. When you’re room came to sight he didn’t realise he picked up his pace and without thinking he knocked on your door.

No answer.

He knocked again and got nothing. Figuring that you weren’t in your room he began to look around the base.

After 20 minutes of looking for you, he found you outside in a warm coat and a scarf, looking all cozied up and warm even in the cold winter weather.

Hearing the door open behind you, you turned around. Surprised to see a 6,4 British man walking towards you with a small box in his hand.

Panic arose within you, realising he had seen the message. “Simon, I can explain the note…!” Before you could say anymore his arms were wrapped tightly around your smaller frame.

The two of you stood there in silence. You embraced him back to try and keep him warm, as he was only his a long sleeve shirt, jeans and his shoes.

“You have no idea, what’s going on right now do you?” He mumbled against your shoulder. You shook your head. “No, but I like it” you smiled.

Simon took in a deep breath and sighed, his warm breath slightly grazing over your cheek as he lifted his face from you shoulder.

Only now noticing his mask had been brought up over his mouth and just resting on his nose. “Me too.” He whispered a reply.

“I appreciate what you do, and have done for me.” He mumbled. A small heat starting to rise in his cheeks. Looking up at the man you slowly took his hands.

“We should probably head inside. It’s starting to get really cold. I don’t want you catching a cold.” You smiled up at him. Simon nodded.

Following you closely behind Simon stopped you when the two of you entered back into the warm building.

He took you by your arm and turn you around. “Simon what’s going on..?” You tried to speak, only to feel rough, scarred lips on yours.

Taking some time to understand what’s going on, you’re kind went fuzzy. Simon Riley.

Kissing you?

Without even noticing you kissed him back. His hands rested on your waist while he leaned down to reach you, as yours rested did around his neck.

He slowly pulled back from the kiss. Your lips unconsciously chased after his as he stood back to his usual height. You opened your eyes, to a surprise.

“Why…? Out of the blue…?” You whispered your questions as you took in all the facial features of the man in front of you.

Dirty blonde hair cut short but still long, the cold icy blue eyes, the small scars that were littered around his face. His chiselled jaw, and sharp nose.

Simon took your face in his large hand. You could sense his nervousness from feeling so exposed to another person. He sucked in a deep breath.

“There was a mistletoe. That’s what we’re supposed to do…right?” Your face burned as Simon’s eyes looked down at you fondly.

His face moved towards your shoulder and rested up above your collarbone. Feeling his warm breath beside your jaw, you shivered.

“I fancy you too and not only is this watch the most thoughtful gift…” His face lifted from your shoulder and looked you right in the eyes.

“You’re my favourite one.”

25-12/22

A/n: I hope you enjoyed that! Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you have a lovely day and a happy new year! <3

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #modernwarfare #modern warefare 2 #mw2 spoilers #mw2 #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost riley #christmas #christmas fanfiction

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boringgothgamergirl · 7 months

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THE ONLY GOOD THING ABOUT THE CAMPAIGN ARE PRICE SCENES 🗣️🗣️🗣️

#call of duty #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #cod #call of duty modern warfare 2 #codmw2 #call of duty modern warfare #captain john price #ghost cod #captain price #mw3 spoilers #cod mw3 #call of duty mw3 #modern warfare 3 #mw3

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crabdrabbles · 6 months

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141 + Nikolai Reactions to Soap Coming Back/Being Alive

Words: 2.8k Warnings: Mentions of depression, alcoholism/self destructive behaviour Ships: Ghost/Soap, (implied) Nik/Price A/N: i swear this was only supposed to be around 600 words but my brain wouldn't stop until i wrote all of this. up next: los vaqueros reaction.

- Price / words: 683

Soap’s death had been sudden. Unexpected. He was so young– the youngest, but he was one of the best. Only a Sergeant, but he could have gone as far as becoming something of a Captain in a few years time if he kept his head screwed on. All that promise and potential, taken away by one single bullet– no. Not the bullet– the man wielding the gun. Price doesn’t remember the last time he had slept more than 4 hours in the night since they spread Soap’s ashes. There was too much to do. There were other lives to save– other lives that were yet to be lost. Mourning for the man would have to come later. Later. Later. Later. There was only so many times that Price could push his needs to the back of his mind before it boiled over. So he took to cigars– cigarettes, if he was in desperate need. Alcohol became a common nightcap for him. Not enough to affect his performance as a Captain, but enough to garner worried looks from Ghost, Gaz, Nikolai and Kate. He couldn’t have them worrying about him– not now, not when they themselves were all reaching breaking points of their own. Ghost had withdrawn on himself to the point he was even worse off than when Price had first met him. He grunted and mumbled his words or avoided conversations entirely. He was still a beast on the battlefield and during missions, almost scarily so. His kills became more brutal, more messy. Dirty, Nikolai had called it once as he watched overhead as Ghost snuck up on a man and stabbed him 27 times. He had counted.

And Gaz. Who had blamed himself. Price didn’t need to be a therapist to know that. What broke his heart the most was when he was escorting an exhausted Gaz back to his room when the sergeant muttered something under his breath.

“Wazzat, Garrick?”

“... should’ve been me, sir.” Price didn’t have the words to respond to the statement. It shouldn’t have been Soap. Or Gaz. Or Ghost. It shouldn’t have been any of them. If anything, it should have been Price himself. If Soap hadn’t rushed in head first to save him, then Soap would still be here–

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Price would deny to his dying breath that he choked around his cigar when a familiar face entered his office. He had been run ragged and thin these past few weeks– chasing leads on Makarov and also juggling the emotions that hung in the air since Soap’s untimely demise. Or ‘apparent’ demise, considering said man had just walked into the room as if nothing had happened and Price hadn’t watched his head successfully catch a bullet while trying to save his life.

“... surprise…?” Soap said awkwardly as he shut the door quietly behind him, scratching the side of his head as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing in the first place. Like still being alive. Price could have snorted at the absurdity of it. Instead, he rose to his feet and ignored the screeching of the chair behind him. He stared at Soap as he rounded his desk, striding towards the not-so-dead-Sergeant.

“Fuck my old boots, I’m going crazy.” he breathed. Jogging the last few steps, he envelops the scot in a hug. One arm wraps around Soap’s back, the other cradling the back of his head. The body beneath the palms of his hands is warm, thrumming with a steady and strong heartbeat.

“John.” he whispered and arms wrapped around him in return, squeezing some of his jagged pieces back into place. The time to explain how or why would come later. For now, he was comforted by the fact that Soap was still living and breathing. He was still here. He had unknowingly given Price a second chance– one that the dear Captain would not squander.

“Preferred it when ye called me sunshine, sir.”

“Don’t push your fucking luck, Sergeant.” If Price’s grip on the other man tightened, neither said a word.

- Gaz / words: 565

Gaz has been running laps every single day since Soap died. He had been training, pushing himself as hard and as far as he could go. He wasn’t quick enough. He wasn’t quick enough to help when his team needed him most. He wasn’t quick enough to help Soap when he stared at Death in the face and watched as he pulled the trigger. He should have been faster– he convinced himself that he had to be faster. For Ghost. For Price. He wouldn’t fail them like he had failed Soap. He still thinks about the day they lost the scotsman. Remembers the blood pooling around his head like a sickening halo. He uses it as an incentive. As a reminder for what he lost that day– for what he still has left to lose.

Another lap came to an end in the form of him wheezing and almost stumbling to the finish line. He was bent over, hands on his knees as he tried to even out his breathing. He had pushed himself again today and he felt the telltale signs of nausea curl in the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t beaten last week’s record yet. He makes a move for one more lap, but a voice stops him. Usually it was Price who stopped him before he pushed himself too far and ended up in medical. The Captain would appear seemingly out of nowhere, cigar in one hand and Gaz’s shoulder in the other.

‘That’s enough for today, Sergeant.’ He would say, and silence any words of complaint or refusal from Gaz before they were even spoken, ‘That’s an order, Kyle.’

“Whoa there, not the best idea to push yerself so hard. You’ll make yerself sick ya daft tit.”

Either Price had adopted a Scottish accent in some deranged form of honouring their lost Sergeant, or Gaz had begun hallucinating from overexerting himself. It was likely the latter. He didn’t want to think of Price hiding a mohawk underneath his hat. A hand meets his shoulder and his own slaps over the top of it on instinct. Looking up, he squints as his eyes adjust to the sunlight– begin to focus on familiar features in front of him. Grinning familiar features.

“Oh, you’re a bloody bastard.” He said, still regaining his breath from his laps. He knows that he hasn’t gone crazy– not yet, anyhow. He knows that the hand on his shoulder is real– that the man in front of him isn’t a figment of his imagination. His other hand claps Soap’s shoulder, gripping hard as he struggles to keep himself together. “You’re a bloody bastard, you know that?”

If Soap heard the crack in his voice, he’s kind enough not to mention it.

“I’ve been told. I only came back ‘cause you owed me twenty quid.”

“Last time I checked it was only fifteen.” Gaz raised an eyebrow, tears in his eyes but a smile on his face as they both fell into a similar routine as if Soap had never left.

“Interest fee.” Soap quipped back, clapping Gaz on the back and bringing him into a tight hug.

“Welcome back, Soap.” They fell into silence, the embrace lasting a little longer than usual.

“... I’m not giving you your twenty quid, by the way. If anything, you owe me twenty quid for the emotional damage.”

“Awa’ an bile yer heid!”

- Ghost / words: 1215

Ghost had withdrawn in himself after Soap’s death– or, more specifically, after the funeral and spreading of his ashes. He hated it. Hated watching as the breeze carried Soap away, spreading him across the Scottish countryside. It… it had been too final, for him. An end. The end of Johnny. That’s what it had felt like. The end. And he couldn’t fucking take it.

Price had given Johnny’s dog tags to Ghost a week or so after everything. It was likely an excuse to talk to the Mancunian– to try and coax him out of his room. It had worked, albeit slightly, as it was an effective reminder to Ghost of who he still had left. Cutting Price and Gaz off wasn’t the way to go– and most definitely what Soap wouldn’t have wanted for him.

It had been around 2 months, 11 days, 13 hours, and 42 minutes since Soap had died. The days had somehow blurred together but dragged in such a way that Ghost was still aware of the time passing in the back of his mind in some tortuous slew. It was a rare day that he had not only left his room, but the base entirely. His therapy sessions had gone from monthly to weekly to even bi-weekly sometimes. Price had forced them on him after the funeral. Ghost only went to get the old man off of his back. The sessions were generally an hour long, maybe a little over if he accidentally overshared. Most of the time he only sat and listened to the psychiatrist talk about different ways to deal with thoughts of depression and other ways to deal with bereavement. It was all a load of shite. Don’t get him wrong, his psychiatrist was a wonderful person– very passionate about their job but Ghost had been so overwhelmed by his grief some days that going to his appointments was just a waste of time, resources and money. Today’s session ended like the rest, a curt and professional goodbye and the arrangement of another session at the same time the following week. Ghost wondered just how many more sessions he could attend before Price stopped forcing him to go. The last time he didn’t, Price had wrangled him into Nikolai’s helicopter and had the Russian personally escort him to and from his appointment. How Soap would have howled with laughter if he had ever bore witness to it.

Price and Gaz were talking. That was the first thing that Ghost noticed when he walked past the common room. Whilst that wasn’t uncommon in the slightest, what was suspicious was that there was a third voice amongst them– one that Ghost was yet to forget. Likely it was his mind playing tricks on him again, filling the void that Soap had left in an attempt to save himself from the pain but still managing to gouge more wounds into his heart. Despite the apprehension, he was already opening the door before his brain could even comprehend it.

“Hey, Lt.” Soap said, turning around to face Ghost when he entered and smiling like he wasn’t supposed to be dead and his body spread across some cliff in some backend of scotland. From the way Price and Gaz were looking directly at the sergeant, it was clear that he was no figment of anyone’s imagination.

“Ghost? Ghost!” For the second time in the space of around 12.5 seconds, Ghost’s body was already walking before his brain caught up. He was walking back to his quarters, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him. A few seconds later, desperate knocking filled the room.

“Ghost, lemme explain!” How dare he? How dare Soap come back like this and treat it like none of the 141 had mourned his loss.

“Simon… Si, please.”

The mancunian leant against the closed door, struggling to even out his breathing. Silence fell, only broken by the occasional shaky exhale from Simon’s lips. It stretched on for several minutes, maybe even longer–

“... Did’ja hear about the cheese factory that exploded in France?” What the fuck was Johnny talking abou– “Da-brie was everywhere.”

Simon almost snorted at the absurdity of the situation and the stupidity of the joke. Looks like the time Johnny had spent being dead gave him time to brush up on his jokes.

“As I get older, I remember all the people I lost along the way. Maybe me budding career as a tour guide wasn’t the right choice.” Damn him. Damn Johnny for coming back like nothing happened and standing outside Simon’s door telling him goddamn puns. Simon still remained silent, not wanting to give Johnny the satisfaction of making him laugh.

“Even people who are good for nothing have the capacity to bring a smile to your face, like when you push them down the stairs.” Alright, Ghost would admit that had wormed a soft snort of amusement. Johnny grew silent for a few seconds and it didn’t take too much brain power to imagine the shit eating grin forming on the sergeant’s face, undoubtedly hearing Simon’s mirth.

“I was digging in our garden and found a chest full of gold coins. I wanted to run straight home to tell my wife about it. Then I remembered why I was digging in our garden…” Awful. Absolutely awful– Simon had taught him well.

“Do you know the phrase ‘One man’s trash is another man’s treasure’? Wonderful saying, horrible way to find out that you were adopted. I can do this all day, Lt.”

That’s what he was afraid of.

Simon sighed to himself as he stood up and opened the door that currently separated the two soldiers. There was a loud curse and a thump as Johnny fell backwards and into the now open doorway. He must have been leaning on the door and didn’t expect the sudden opening. Serves him right.

“Hi, Simon.” the scot breathed, staring up at Ghost like he had hung the moon.

“Where did Joe go after getting lost on a minefield?” Simon found himself saying as he stared down at the man who was supposed to be dead. “Everywhere.”

Johnny’s face scrunched up in disdain and he groaned, throwing an arm over his face and still making no move to get up from his place on the floor.

“Terrible.”

“And yours were any better?” Simon knelt by the fallen sergeant, head tilted to the side as he regarded him, drinking in the visible parts of his face. The shorter man moved to sit up, hands hesitating just before they touched Simon as if afraid of his reaction.

“They got you t’open the door, didn’t they?” Damnit. Simon held out his hand, palm facing up. Johnny took it as it was and placed his own over the top, intertwining their fingers.

“Gonna take a lot more than jokes to fix this, Johnny.”

“I know, Lt. Got a lot to make up for but lemme make a start. Permission to kiss you, sir?” The fact he asked where before he would simply act was enough to melt Simon’s heart– just a little bit.

“Permission granted, Sergeant.” Forgiveness would be a low thing– but feeling Johnny’s warm and soft lips on his own was definitely a step in the right direction.

- Nikolai / words: 332

The first thing Nikolai does when he finds out Soap is alive is punch him. Not hard enough to break anything or bruise too severely, but hard enough that Soap will be reminded of it for a few days afterwards.

“That is for making everyone think that you were dead.” It’s still fresh in his mind. Watching as Price fell apart at the seams after they spread Soap’s ‘ashes’, as the guilt ate him up from the inside out. As the ‘what if’s plagued his mind, ruined what little sleep he already didn’t get in the night– and stole his happiness, for a time. Nikolai can remember the week where Price smoked so many cigars that the Captain woke up with a tight chest, wheezing like a man starved of oxygen and clutching onto Nikolai’s shoulder as he gasped and spluttered– only to repeat the process the following day.

‘I can stop when I need to.’ Price had said to Nikolai, brushing off any concern that the russian had voiced about the almost permanent smoke cloud that formed in Price’s office.

Nikolai was not stupid– soldiers were lost all of the time in war. But not all soldiers left lasting impressions like Soap had to his Captain and teammates. He had touched the hearts of many with his shining personality and enthusiasm, Nikolai himself included. He had been fond of the Scotsman, even a partner in crime once during a prank that involved several bags of glitter and the helicopter fan blades.

The scowl on his face morphs into something softer as he watched Soap try and massage the pain away with his hands. He brings Soap into a hug, pressing his forehead against Soap’s newly scarred temple.

“And this is for coming back to us. We all missed you, солнышко (Sunshine).” Despite the gentle words, his grip tightens until it is almost bruising. “Don’t do that again or I will kill you myself.” Soap doesn’t doubt that even for a second.

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