I'm Currently Studying For An Exam Tomorrow Guys (padagogy), So The New Part Of Alive Will Have To Wait,

Pain

Word count: 422

He thought he knew what pain was.

God knows he had experienced enough of it. Whether it be physical or psychological pain, it was as if the universe decided that there must be one person who'd be destined to collect all the different types of pain and suffering like other people collect stamps.

But the pain he felt the second he saw the bullet hammer into Soaps head, life slipping out of his eyes in the fraction of a second was nothing he'd ever known before.

In the second it took for Soap, Johnny, to fall to the ground, a vivid image flashed through his mind. Not of the things that were, but of those that could've been. Their eyes locked onto each other, hands entertwined, lips pressed against the other's. A ring on his finger.

The amount of regret that filled his body was unbearable, it felt like flames burning through his skin and into his bones. He regretted so much. Things he never dared to say or do, out of fear of allowing himself to feel again, feel vulnerable for loving someone. It seemed so foolishly insignificant now. He'd do and give anything to hear that stupid scottish accent and see that stupid smug grin again. To get a chance of telling him what he meant to him. That he was the only good thing he had. That he had a reason to return from his missions.

That he loved him.

But now, it was too late. He wanted to rip the skin off his bones in despair.

His body was on autopilot as he made his way towards Soap, the black fabric of his mask wet with tears. "Johnny!", he yelled, voice straining, trying to contain the raging sea of emotions that flooded every fiber of his being.

He held him in his arms, and for the first time in a long while, he screamed out in his mind to God, pleading, begging for a pulse. For a shaky, unsteady breath. For his Johnny.

But nothing came.

The highlands were as beautiful as Johnny always said. The sunset bathed the landscape in a golden light. As they poured Johnnys ashes from the cliff, letting the wind carry it away, his mask was soaked with tears.

The one thing he wanted, craved, the only man he ever loved, was reduced to nothing more than ashes.

It cost him every ounce of self restraint not to throw himself after those ashes.

What was his life worth, if Johnny wasn't in it?

Jan 2024

Barberry

Captain Mactavish writing “How many times can a man save your life until it's no longer your own” in his journal after getting saved again is KILLING ME why is he so depressing I love him so much oh my god give my man a BREAK he’s so underrated

Sleepless

Ghost never sleeps. At least nobody ever saw him do it. On missions, he'd always take the night watch, the most he did was close his eyes and snooze a bit, immediately waking up if anything happened. When he slept on base, his room was always locked, and he obviously had the room farthest from the rest. Peaks of being a lieutenant. But now here you were, in a safehouse in the middle of nowhere, crammed together in the tight space. Ghost was not pleased, to put it mildly. He didn't show it, but you could see it in the way his jaw clenched under his mask and his voice got even more gruff.

"Y' go to sleep. I'll take the watch", he ordered, sitting down heavily on a chair. "With all due respect, sir, you look like shit. You should sleep a wee bit too", you remarked, looking him up and down. Even with the mask he couldn't hide his tired and droopy eyes. "Watch your mouth, sergeant", he gruffed. You smiled and raised your hands "Just being honest, Lt" An annoyed and tired sigh escaped him. "Go to sleep. Don't make me force ya"

You giggled, but relented. Taking off the heavy vest and settling down on the floor. It didn't take long for you to fall asleep, the exhaustion from todays work kicking in.

A loud bang ripped you from your peaceful slumber. You shot up, alarmed, gun at the ready. After a few seconds another bang. Worry set in. Was Ghost in trouble? Had you been discovered?

Quickly you got up, clearing the house. Nothing and no one was there. Until you got to the entrance, where Ghost was set for night guard. You didn't see him immediately, which by his size was hardly possible. He was leaning against a wall, facing the door. As soon as you saw him, you froze. That wasn't Ghost. That wasn't the deadly, tough and cold man you knew. He was scared. Hunched in on himself, arms wrapped around himself, knees pulled up to his chest. He was trembling.

You didn't know what to do, so you just stood there. He shook and trembled like a scared puppy. It hurt to watch him like this. "Ghost?", you asked, carefully. He began muttering under his breath. "No no no no, don't touch me, don't fucking touch me!", his chest began heaving with effort, his fists clenching the fabric of his uniform. You took a step closer to him. "Stop, please stop, it hurts, please!", pleas kept falling from his lips.

Should you wake him up? It didn't seem like a good idea, but he kept banging his head against the wall, which you were sure was too loud for your both sakes.

So you placed a gentle hand on his hand, shaking him slightly. "Ghost? You gotta wake up", his eyes shot open in an instant, they went from fear to rage in a split second. He growled lowly, leaping forward and pinning you on the ground under him, his giant, gloved hand around your throat.

His eyes bore holes into you, but they didn't seem focused. He seemed to be still somewhere else. "Ghost!", you called out, trying to get him to let go of you. No reaction. "Lieutenant!" Still nothing. It became hard to breathe. "Simon, please!" His gaze went sharp, focusing on your eyes.

"Fuck, shit", he cursed, immediately letting go of you. He sat next to you, looking worried. "I-I'm so sorry", he whispered. You could see remorse in his eyes.

"Everything is fine, Ghost, I'm fine", you assured him, despite a blue ring forming around your neck. "No, it's not, I hurt you", his hands reached out to you, without touching you.

"Is that why you never sleep with us (get your mind out of the gutter)?",you asked. He nodded. "I don- I can't. The next time I maybe wake up when it's too late."

You sighed, pulling him to his feet. He looked lost.

"Then I stay awake with you"

Feb 2024

A phantom memory huh

Alive / Part XII

Trigger warnings: Explicit sexual content in the form of a handjob. (I pray that my parents will never find my blog, Annie, ich weiß, dass du das hier lesen wirst. Kein. Einziges. Wort. Sonst werf ich dich ausm Fenster. Das gilt auch für dich, Milena. :)) Notes: This is my first ever attempt at smut, so sorry if it's awkward to read. I also have no idea how to conjugate "Lay", so sorry to all the English majors out there. Word count: 668

They stayed on that hill for hours. Barely talking, just looking at the sky and sea in silence, enjoying the moment together.

The sun started to set, the sky painted in a deep gold, the sunrays making the scene look etheral, like sunlight pouring out of a hundred broken urns.

When they got home, the house was still empty (Molly knew they'd need some time to get it going, so she made sure they'd have their peace)

"I'm gonna take a shower", Ghost announced. Soap plopped down on the bed. "Have fun"

Ten minutes later, Ghost stepped out the bathroom, blond locks wet, his bare torso bathed in the golden sunlight, a towel slung over his hips. "Looking good, lt", Soap smirked. Ghost grumbled and sat down on the bed. "Shut it" He lay down next to Soap, the towel dangerously low on his hips. Soap peered down. He was unsure, but he really wanted to. "Can I?", he asked quietly. Ghost swallowed, then nodded. Very, very slowly and gently Soap pulled away the towel, eyes fixed on Ghosts cock. "Not bad, lt". It was already half hard. He looked at Ghost again, checking for any sign of discomfort. He didn't find any, his eyes half lidded and it seemed like he was holding his breath. With a featherlight touch Soap ran his fingertips over it, cataloging every ridge and vein. Ghost let out a shuddering breath. "That sensitive, huh?", Soap teased. Ghost just nodded. "Please, stop teasing me", he whispered. Soap raised an eyebrow. "Yes sir" Soap leaned over the bed, grabbing a small bottle of lube from the nightstand, squirting a bit on his hand before wrapping it around Ghosts cock. He really was sensitive, letting out a small gasp at the sensation. Soap took this as a sign to take up the pace, tightening his hand and rubbing his thumb over the red tip. "Does it feel good?", he looked at Ghost whose eyes were fixed on Soaps hand around his cock, biting his lower lip to supress the sounds threatening to escape him. "Simon?", he asked again. Ghost nodded, eyes lidded. Soap chuckled. "Usually I'd have you say it loud, but I'm gonna let it slide". He continued at the same pace for a few minutes, letting Ghost get used to the sensation. He seemed to enjoy it quite a lot. A grin spread on his face as Ghosts subconsciously thrust his hips upwards, and he sped up and tightened his hand, drawing a small gasp from him. He gripped he sheets, his knuckles white. "Wanna hold my hand?", Soap asked, to which Ghost only nodded, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. His breathing got more erratic, and Soap could feel his cock twitch in his hand. "You're gonna come, Simon?", Soap cooed. "Y-yes", Ghost gasped. "Go on then", he whispered. Ghost let out a strangled whimper, squeezing Soaps hand tightly, white ropes soaking Soaps hand. His thighs trembled and he was breathing as if he'd run a marathon. Soap pressed a kiss on Ghosts forehead, getting up to get a wash cloth. Gently and carefully he wiped his body down. "Thank you", Ghost whispered. Soap grinned. "Did you like it?" Ghost nodded. "Then I guess it's a job well done, no need to thank me" He smiled. "I'm gonna shower" "Wait!", Ghost said, slowly getting up. "Give me a second, and I'll return the favour", he mumbled, hands shaking slightly as he reached for Soaps pants. "No no no, Simon, stop", Soap grabbed his hands. "There is no favour to return, you don't owe me anything", he looked Ghost in the eyes. "I want you to know that. I love you. You don't owe me. I choose to make you feel good. It's not a debt. We're not in a rush. We can take as much time as you want and need." Ghost nodded and sat back down on the bed. Soap smiled.

"Sleep a bit. I'll be there when you wake up"

Notes: Sorry that it took so long, I had to stop various times to stop cringing. It's also quite awkward writing this stuff in class. Anyway, I'm omw to bathe in holy water.

Don't you just love it when you accidentally write a drabble in your English class? Cause I do!

Reader meets Ghost for the first time:

You stand waiting for your meeting to begin as a man of great height steps up beside you. His tall, naturally looming stature immediately makes you feel as if you should not be here.

He doesn’t move. Stance still and stiff as if the weight of his mass is causing him to tense up just to stand up on his own two feet.

Of what you can see of his face, the hood of his hoodie covering most of his head, you can see a multitude of faint lines covering the small strip of skin not shielded away by his black face mask with a faded skull motif. Even the outline of his nose is bumped out uncomfortably. Perhaps he broke it. And even with the hood covering most of his features, you could see a little spike or two for light blond hair poking out here and there.

His black hoodie was slightly oversized, yet you could see parts of his frame holding the fabric of the hoodie taut around his arms especially. The bottom of the hoodie met snuggly with the hem of his trousers, a well-loved pair of dark navy jeans.

As you realise you’ve been staring for too long the mysterious figure turns slightly, eyes glaring a frozen hole in the centre of your face. The pools of deep bourbon grab your attention as they sit below long blond eyelashes, “If you continue to stare. You won’t like what I’d ‘ave do next.” A deep gravely British voice threatened. He turns to leave back now facing you as he calls over his shoulder, “The meetings in 5.” All you can do is stand there, mouth slightly a gape, staring at his back as he walks towards a building on base; the back of his hoodie reads: “Task Force 141”.

Alive / Part VII

Word count: 399

Soap wasn't lying when he said his mum could cook. Ghost was glad he had something else than the horrible food from chow hall and MREs. Molly had made a hearty stew with carrots, potatoes and pork (Idk about real scottish stews so this is how my German grandma makes them). Now he and Soap were sitting in the bedroom in a comfortable silence. "'M gonna shower.", Soap announced, trying to pull off his shirt, but wincing. "Need help?", Ghost eyed him. Before Soap could answer, he got up and carefully got the shirt off without hurting him. Once it was, he couldn't help but stare a bit. He'd seen Soap shirtless, and naked, countless times, but this was different than neonlit communal showers. "Like what yer seeing?", Soap grinned. Ghost rolled his eyes. "Quiet". He looked at the bandage. "I'll change that when you're done. Don't use all the hot water" While Soap was in the shower, Ghost slowly started putting away his clothes, then stepping outside on the balcony. He had a beautiful view on the area, the sun starting to set and casting golden light on the fields. "I love sunsets", Soap appeared next to him, towel hanging low on his waist. Ghost subtly eyed the dip on his waist and the two prominent veins running along his v line. "Yea, they're beautiful". He cleared his throat. "Now let me take a look at that", he carefully peeled off the water proof bandaid off, exposing the still open wound. "It's healing nicely", he commented, setting Soap down on the bed and taking out gauze and a bandage from his bag. "Hold still", he gently began wrapping it around his shoulder. "Being gentle for me, huh?", Soap teased. "For you always, Johnny", Ghost flicked his ear playfully. After he finished wrapping up the shoulder, he helped Soap into his shirt and went showering himself. When he stepped inside the bedroom, Soap was sprawled on the bed, scrolling through his phone. "Yer beautiful, lt", he grinned. Ghost flipped him off before settling down on the bed. "Shut up". Soap scooted over a bit. "Make me" Ghost shot a warning glare towards him. "Don't tempt me, Johnny. You'll bite off more than you can chew" Soap snickered. "Oh I promise you I have enough space in my mouth". Ghost let out a groan. "Go to sleep, sargeant." "Yes sir"

At my fire department, most of us have nick makes

We got Jost, which is a normal name, but the problem was that during the first few weeks nobody knew his real name, so they just called him Jost

Then we got tree, which is a 6'5 guy, pretty self explanatory

Then we got glow stick, because that dipshit once asked our chief if we could carry glow sticks to house fires so we could see in the smoke. No. We can't.

Next is dinosaur, cuz his first name is Joshua, like the dino Joshi from the video game

And we got onion, because no one could pronounce his Romanian name properly and he loves onions

My lovely nick name is tits, since I was the only girl in the squad