badluckduck
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Summary
“Good boy.” Johnny praises, his Scottish accent heavy.
He can see the moment when it registers, Simon’s eyes going wide and his ears turning red. Simon’s eyes dart to the floor quickly, not meeting Johnny’s gaze.
Simon keeps it in well, but Johnny has been doing this for years.
“The warmth yae feel in yaer chest, this is what I want yae tae feel,” Johnny explains. “It’s what we’re after today. I want yae tae feel good. And I would like if yae let yaerself feel like this. No shame, no pushing it doown.”
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If this is the first work of mine you read, please go ahead without worry, If you come from the Love is You series, this is what i imagine Simon and Noah's first session to be like (feel free to switch Johnny's name with Noah's in your head, or don't i'm not the boss of you)
Enjoy xx
Series
- Part 1 of When we met, I saw you and I saw love
Bookmarked by badluckduck
25 May 2026
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Summary
There's nothing about Ghost to love.
More machine than man, he's a weapon for his country to use as they see fit. Stripped of his humanity, Ghost has come to accept his way of life, going through the motions because he has to.
That is, until Soap slowly breaks down Ghost's walls, and makes him realize that maybe there is still hope for him. That his augments don't define the man who suffers within. That he's worthy of love, just like everyone else.
Bookmarked by badluckduck
23 May 2026
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Summary
Snow whipped around them both in a frenzy. It was all Soap could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other, dragging them both forward as frost nipped at his bones. Wind slammed them from all sides, roaring through the bare trees and covering Soap's footsteps as quickly as he made them. Claw-like branches grabbed at him and Ghost, but he didn't dare stop, no matter how hard they tried to force him back.
Stopping meant death.
And Soap wasn't about to let the man he loved freeze and be left forgotten in no-man's-land.
— ❄️ —
Trapped in a collapsing blind and battered by days of snow and silence, Soap is fraying at the seams—cold, half-mad, and absolutely convinced his lieutenant is some cocked-up apparition of a man. But when the mission turns, everything spirals, leaving Soap to drag an injured, hypothermic Ghost through blizzard and blood to the last safehouse still standing.
(Or: A storm. A sniper’s nest. A confession years in the making. And the quiet moment where Soap finally gets to hold the man he never stopped falling for.)
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“Captain, what are you saying?” Price demanded.
Another deep breath. “I regret to inform you that at approximately 04:32, Lieutenant Ghost was declared KIA due to an infrastructure collapse. The building they were infiltrating was lined with explosives – Lieutenant Ghost reentered the building to attempt to rescue a downed man when the explosives were set off, triggering a building collapse. I’m truly sorry, Captain. My men owe him their lives and none of us will ever forget that, I promise you.”
Soap felt his knees buckle underneath him, Gaz’s arms shooting out to grab him and ease his descent to the floor. Soap looked at Gaz and saw the distraught expression even through his increasingly blurry vision. “He’s gone?” Soap asked, searching Gaz’s eyes for any refute.
“Tav-”
“He’s gone?” Soap asked again, his voice cracking and shattering like his heart. He couldn’t breathe, his chest aching and burning as he tried to keep himself from breaking apart at the seams.
Bookmarked by badluckduck
16 May 2026
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Every part of him knew it was wrong to want John MacTavish the way he did – something rough and desperate, something possessive and aching.
Every concern Ghost could think to bring up was shot down. He’d protested about how much older he was, and Soap had mouthed at the scars that had a few extra years on him without hesitation. He’d argued about the power differential between them and Soap had promptly brought him to his knees to show how little the sergeant cared about Ghost being in a position of authority. He’d pointed out the cross hanging around Soap’s neck and how the local church he went to didn’t care for what they were doing, and Soap had pressed it against Ghost’s open tongue while slamming into him.
Every time, he told himself one more night. He’d let himself have Johnny for one more night, and then he’d cut things off between them – he’d be the responsible one, ensuring the arrangement ended before anything got too serious and one of them got hurt. He’d make it end before Johnny could get bored of him or before his flaws could be too much for the sergeant to cope with.
But fuckin’ hell, John MacTavish was an addiction that Simon Riley couldn’t get enough of.
Bookmarked by badluckduck
15 May 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
Simon?” Johnny prompted above him, a warm hand carefully carding through the mess of hair on Simon’s head.
“Don’t leave,” he said quickly. “Even when I’m difficult, just don’t leave.”
“Ye’re no’ difficult,” Johnny said through an exhale.
“I am,” Simon countered, resolute in his disagreement. He was; it was hard for people to break past his walls and even harder to stay there, but he wanted Johnny to stay more than anything else.
“Aye, well, it’s a good thing I didnae like easy things, then,” Johnny replied. “Always a fan of a challenge, me.”
Simon huffed, a bit amused despite how tender the moment was. “Big fuckin’ challenge you’re pursuing. Sure you don’t want somethin' simple like that sergeant out there?”
Johnny’s hand slid down from his hair to his jaw, a thumb running over Simon’s scar from his mouth to ear, before it dropped to the front of his throat. Simon’s head pushed back at the angle as Johnny leaned down, hovering over his face as his fingers pushed on either side of Simon’s neck.
“Hate simple,” Johnny said, voice as dark as his gaze. “I’m smart enough fer a big fuckin’ challenge, sir, aren’t I?”
Oh, that tone and the promise in that intoxicating accent was exactly what Simon had been missing for the few weeks without Johnny. Every instinct in his body geared up to fight back, to play along with the game they were so used to.
But he just didn’t want to, not when it came along with the risk of Johnny thinking he was ingenuine, or that he didn’t want the sergeant just as much as it seemed to be reciprocated. He wanted to give in and ignore the deeply ingrained abandonment issues in his mind. He wanted to let Johnny take care of him and do the same for the man; he wanted to have more than just fights for dominance that ended in satiated bodies and lonely awakenings. He wanted everything, and he needed Johnny to know that.
Simon’s arms came down from where they were tightly wound around Johnny. The hand on his throat faltered, grip weakening, and Simon used the extra bit of wiggle room to rest his forehead against Johnny’s hip.
“You are, Johnny,” he said, agreeing with the past question without combating it. He closed his eyes tightly, hiding his face from the sergeant and willing his heart not to beat out of his chest as he said, for the first time in his entire life, “I love you.”