Johnny "superstitious and catholic so he doesn't have a mirror facing his bed" MacTavish is the same person as Johnny "likes seeing how Ghost fucks him in a mirror" MacTavish. this is an issue he's not ready to admit to himself yet.
college Kate Laswell x fReader // fem no body desc // MDNI
cw none? it's pure fluff (maybe a dash of anxiety but it's fine I promise)
summary: Kate convinces you to spend your first Christmas together.
1k words // rating: M (language) // MDNI // Part 2 // Part 3
"Do you want to spend the holidays with me and my family?" Kate asked.
At that point, you'd been barely dating a month or so officially. The two of you met that September when you hurriedly threw your bag down next to hers in the back of the auditorium when the professor gave you the look when you arrived at the first class late. After class on the third week, she asked you out, and you'd barely spent a day alone since then.
It was the end of December, a few days before winter break when she asked this, while the two of you were walking to the campus café after the shared class, holding hands. The whole campus was covered in a thin layer of the first snow of the season, with warm string lights, and a soft dusk setting a romantic mood.
"I'm pretty sure they expect me to be home, you know. My grandparents have been making reservations for my days home since fall…" You chuckled at how ridiculous that sounded out loud, yet was such a common occurrence each holiday season.
And the entire holiday cooking fell into your hands since you were capable of handling yourself in the kitchen. Helping out everywhere from fixing the Christmas lights to helping your little cousins stick together gingerbread houses (then washing them out of the thick cover of icing they cover themselves in each year without fail), and so on… a break did sound nice, but; "I already agreed to help my dad fix something around the house, and my mom-"
Kate stopped on the paved road, with the closeby lights of the café illuminating her profile, enhancing her warm, but sly smile. She took her whole hand in hers and caressed it. A few snowflakes dance around in the air around you.
"I asked if you wanted to spend Christmas with me and my family, baby. Not obligations you had, or stuff you didn't want to say no to." She sounded assertive, yet there was no pressure in her voice. And as always, she was right. She read you like a book, and you liked that, usually, even if it hurt to admit.
"Aren't we a new couple?" You asked in a timid voice that your lurking anxiety forced upon your vocal cords and looked into her eyes, which swirled with a festive sparkle from the moody string lights around you.
"Aren't you just looking for excuses?" She chuckled and leaned in to press a small, featherlight kiss to your cold cheek. "Come on, let's sit down inside."
She led you inside, and after grabbing you and herself some hot chocolate, she sat down with a small sigh.
"Your family…" You clutched the paper cup in your hands, the warmth quickly heating up your digits. Kate did the same, while her eyes examined your worried features, hanging on your words. "…they'd like me there?"
"Yeah." She smiled small, and little wrinkles appeared in the corner of her eyes. She was older than you, even if only by a few years; she looked mature for her age. Maybe that was what caught your eye in the first place. The stability she exuded, the sure answers she gave the professor, the way she carried herself when you walked beside her; it was confident and watchful.
"And what do I say at home?" Your anxiety spoke, gnawing in the back of your throat, searing your words with an unwanted edge.
"That you're staying with me for the holidays. Why?" She took a sip of her steaming hot chocolate and licked her lips as she put the cup down. God, she could say anything with those lips and you'd believe her.
"I just…" You gathered yourself and looked her in the eyes again. "I never spent a Christmas away from home. I don't know…"
"Do you want to?" She offered a hand, extending it to you on the small table, on which you leaned, posture slightly stiff. You took her hand in a moment, fingers intertwining with hers.
"I'd like to…" Your tone was unsure, torn between your own wants and your family's. "but…"
"Look, baby, if you're saying no because of them, I'm sorry, but I can't accept that. Give me a good reason and I won't ask. Because I know that's your reason. This excuse is not you, it's them. And I don't want you to feel obligated--"
"But it's family, Kate!" Your brows knitted with worry, having scared yourself with your own response when the anxiety won over again, causing the small outburst.
"Mine is too, babe. They want to see you, hell, I want to see you." Kate's eyes pleaded to you, and she squeezed your hand a little.
"Spend time with you, have you curl up by the fireplace while you talk about… knitting or some shit with my mom…" She smiled into the sentence, the smile you knew you couldn't resist.
"Kate!" You squeezed her hand back at the cussword, hitting a playful tone as her infectious smile carried on to your face.
"What?" She leaned back in her chair, still smiling, not letting go of your hand.
"Nothing…" You quieted down a little and observed the melting whipped cream disappear into the hot chocolate in your cup. "I'm just not used to being pampered at Christmastime. I'm the one cooking, cleaning, I-"
"I don't want you to have to be that. I want you to rest this Christmas, and I want you by my side. I want to see you relax and unwind, you know, what every Christmas should be about." She explained with a mellow voice, that made you hot and thinking of the possibilities she could provide for you.
For a moment, you didn't find anything that'd have expressed your feelings. Instead, you settled for a shy "alright", already thinking of a proper thank you for Kate later that night for offering you her trust and opening her home to you, despite your anxieties and empty worries.
a/n: happy holidays y'all! this was not self-indulgent
also, where did I see that post that went along the lines of:
it would have been poetic to see (in a future game) Soap and Ghost die together.
what a fucking banger of an idea, yes!! I would have loved seeing them go out together, knowing (or not knowing) this was the end. (what did we get instead pft) it'd have been a nice end to the current narrative, setting a new perspective on Gaz being captain and moving on and we wouldn't have to deal with either Ghost or Soap being left alone. if that'd be the only canon narrative where they can be together, let it be.
I need to do something more with this idea, it's so fucking poetic.
so we all agree that yes the boys would make hell on earth to make sure you're safe.
but Kate Laswell... Kate Laswell will rain hellfire down on every inch of the planet and unleash carnage from deep inside her soul that consumes her every fiber in a combusting flash if it meant a fickle chance to try and save you.
her rage would know no bounds, no matter of money or intimidation, no secretary, no general, hell, no government could look her in the eyes if your wellbeing was at stake.
if you think you know protective, I have to inform you, you don't know Kate Laswell yet. you don't know the hand of the CIA, the phantom behind the desk who moves mountains with a few keystrokes on her computer.
and boy if it gets dirty; her bullets will always find their proper place lodged in the skulls of those who oppose her. her blade will cry with joy as she digs it into the jugular of every person stupid enough to stand between you and her.
because she promised you. she promised by the altar, didn't she? and she'll gladly teach the vow to anyone; even if it takes weeks, and them being strapped to a goddamn chair in a Wyoming basement, she will. until they recite it, humiliated as they're reminded of what they tried to take from her; You.
and once the clouds roll over, and she holds you in her arms again, hands caressing your beaten face, then will she know peace again. blood clings to her hands and burns like acid, but it's all so fickle in comparison to your presence... united with her again.
your presence washes away the carnage and makes everything right and whole again. fingers interlocking as she basks in the moment, your chest heaving with adrenaline-filled thumps of your heart still.
until parted by death. and if it's what it takes; she'd defeated every mortal enemy so far, what more is Death.
please let's all assume that a man who replies "I've seen better" to his sergeant quipping "I'm pretty good at this, eh, Lt?", and follows it up by "who?" "Me." has an insane ego both in life in general and in bed come onnnn
Laswell who just wants to keep you safe; you're hers, even if you don't know it yet
sends you on light missions, and listens to you whine to her about how you got the short end of the stick with that escort duty again, and.... your words fade out, she's only observing your knitted brows arch on your face, and carefully manicured hands flail around as you walk up and down her office agitated; you look so cute she might have to assign you on leave soon tshk
