#A Helping Paw Cod

[dollygirl808]

Ch 1 of A Helping Paw

Obsessive! Werewolf/Weredog 141(+extra) x Chubby! OC Freya

Freya was just trying to have a nice, relaxing getaway vacation with her boyfriend to her old childhood home, to get away from the loud, crowded city, when a big, kind of obsessive dog quite literally forced his way onto her lap and into her life. All of a sudden, there's a second dog. Then another, and another, until suddenly she found herself with a whole pack of dogs! Little does she know, they're all werewolves, not real dogs, and they're all a little (lot) in love with her.

Masterlist

Freya breathed in the crisp, fresh air of the back country as she settled in the handmade wooden bench swing, thick legs tucked under her and curled up in what was probably a real furred blanket, thermos cup sat in her lap and a book held in her hands. She was finally going to get around to reading the book she brought with her, a collection of spicy monster stories to pass the time.

It only took her a week and a half to open the thing, already over halfway done with her getaway vacation, that she was supposed to spend the majority of time being with her boyfriend, Jake.

Of course, he had to complain about it being too cold even though it was technically summer and wasn't even snowing, and then he got sick and acted like the world was ending. Even though it was more likely just sinuses acting up due to the pressure changes, and he was only sick for three days.

They had a couple of cute date nights, one even in town at the most adorable little seafood restaurant by the lake, another out shopping for cute memories and little knickknacks, and another inside watching an old movie she loved as a kid on the nice big wall-mounted TV in the living room, eating popcorn and deer jerky and local-made beer.

It had been really fun, in between all of their bickering little spouts where he nitpicked and insulted her childhood home, where she grew up with her parents and grandfather, pointing out all the small little differences and imperfect coloring in the wooden beams, all fit together by hand by her grandfather and great-grandfather.

But she wasn't here to fight, she was here to relax and get away from the stresses of the big city, clear her mind and get ride of her writers block.

So she sank into her book, gets a good thirty pages in before the sound of rustling leaves had her looking up, and spotting a massive, chocolate brown dog standing just outside of the treeline, striking baby blue eyes standing out against the fur.

She can't tell if it's some sort of wolf dog hybrid or maybe just an all brown German shepherd, albeit a massive one. Perhaps a wolf German shepherd hybrid? She blinked at the dog curiously, setting down her book, and it broke eye contact first, glancing down as it sniffed at the grass.

It just sort of lingered in the area, nosing around the grass and occasionally glancing up at her, fluffy brown ears perked foward. Doesn't approach, doesn't bark, doesn't show any aggressive signs.

From afar she can sort of see a black collar around its neck, so she assumed it was just a neighbor or hikers pet who wondered off. Someone might come by to collect him, or call him back, or he'll just wonder off again on his own. She's pretty sure one of her closest neighbors has a dog for two, used to hear the bark or howl on occasion when she was kid.

Then again that was a long time ago- he might not even live there anymore, not that she's really had any time to say hi to anyone. Not worried about the dog, she goes back to reading.

---

Freya sipped at her hot chocolate, then nibbled on her local treat she bought when she went into town yesterday as she finally gets to the fun part of the story, when suddenly she heard the old steps creek and looked up only to be met with bright blue, curious eyes. She let out a shocked shout as she spotted the dog much closer than before, two paws on the bottom steps of her porch.

He had managed to sneak up on her completely silently, not that she was particularly paying attention to it with her nose in her book, but it still startled her.

She took a calming breath to help ease her nerves as he climbed the steps with a bit of hesitancy, head ducked and ears relaxed, like he recognized that he'd scared her- even if only briefly. She tried not to panic as it stood between her and her front door, blocking her only reasonable escape. It wasn't here to hurt her, probably, but that didn't mean she loved feeling trapped.

"Hi pretty boy," Freya cooed softly, staying where she was, "Are you friendly? Can you sit?" She asked, and the massive pup took a few more steps forward before sitting down in front of her, tail thumping softly against the wooden panels.

"Oh, that's a good boy," She praised, and carefully held out her hand knuckles first incase he decided to give her a warning nip. He sniffed curiously at her fingers before giving her whole hand a lick, long tongue lapping between her fingers.

She took that as a sign of friendship and gently pat between his ears, and immediately he stood up and bullied his big head onto her lap, nearly knocking over her thermos and little bowl of snacks.

It made her laugh, and she ruffled the fur on his neck while checking his collar for a name, and maybe the number of his owner if they were responsible. After some amount of struggling, considering he kept nosing at her arms with his long muzzle and practically demanded to be pet more, she found out his name is Soap and managed to dial the number on the back of his tags.

It immediately goes to voice-mail, and she's not too surprised or dissapointed, good consistent service is hard to get out here, so she left a message, "Hi! My name is Freya and I think I've found your dog, Soap?" He perked up at his name.

"He just wondered up to me on my porch, beautiful big brown boy, he hasn't given me any trouble or anything. I'm not sure if you live close, I used to live out here in the country side and I moved away a few years ago, but I'm just here on vacation. Anyways, give me a call back whenever you can and I could drive him back to your house or we could meet up somwhere in town, depending on where you live. Promise he's safe with me for the time being and I'll take care of him as best as a can until then, but I hope to hear back from you soon." She hung up then, putting her phone away as she pet him.

"Guess you're stuck with me for a while, huh boy?" She asked, rubbing her thumb over his ear, "Let's get you some water, yeah?"

Soap backed up to give her room as she stood up, gathering her little blanket and cup and snacks and book in her hands before leading him inside, dumping everything on the couch before digging through the bottom cabinets and looking for her grandfather's dogs old bowl, buried behind pots and pans. It's just a cheap flimsy metal bowl with a little raised bone on the front, and she fills it up in the sink before placing it down on the kitchen tile.

Only after she stood up did he lap at the water, and Freya left him to it as she went to her bedroom to get changed, he was going to need some food after all, and a few leftover peices of turkey wouldn't cut it. He was absolutely massive, after all.

It took her a moment, but eventually she settled on the outfit she wore when she went into town on the first day, a long white skirt with roses and a high slit along with a long sleeve red top that had a sweetheart neckline. There are only a couple of months where it's actually warm enough to show some skin, and that's why she was here at this time of the year instead of any other.

It would be hard to fully enjoy a getaway vacation with her boyfriend if they were both bundled up under layers and layers of proper winter gear, after all.

She dug around in a closet for an old leash, it's leather and peeling but it'll have to do. She hoped Soap wouldn't give her any trouble being leashed up.

"Soap, come on boy. Wanna go for a car ride?" She asked in a high pitched voice, half bent over and half leaning on the back of the couch to do the strap on her red and tan platform wedge sandals, with little bows over the edge of the open-toed shoe. Her toenails were painted white match her perfectly manicured nails, this was supposed to be a lovers getaway vacation after all.

Soap abandoned the bowl as soon as she called his name, nearly running into her legs in his excitement. He lapped at her tan calf peaking out through the slit in her skirt and let out a happy ruff.

He tried to nose and sniff at her crotch through the skirt no less than three times while she attempted to do up her other ankle strap, but eventually stopped and sat patiently when she just pushed his wet nose away with a playful scolding every time.

Freya opened the back door to the red truck, and he hopped in before she could even say anything. She gave him a quick pat between the ears and some praise before climbing into the driver's seat, tossing her brown bag and leash onto the passing seat and connecting her phone to bluetooth to play music.

Just after she's buckled up and about to turn on the car, Soap jumps over the center console and sits himself in the passenger seat instead, kicking her things into the floor space as he settled on his side, body laid over the console and big paws and head in her lap.

She attempted, and failed, twice to lift him up and get him off of her, at least put him on the center console instead of on her lap, but he doesn't budge even one inch, even thinks it's a bit of a game as his tail thumped happily against the car door. It doesn't take her long to give up, he clearly just wants to be close. Maybe this was what he was used to?

When she started driving, she took it very slow at first, wanting to make sure he wouldn't move around too much or misbehave. No one else is really around anyways, so she can afford to go like 20 miles an hour while she tests the waters. To his credit, the pup behaves perfectly and eventually she speeds up to the speed limit, and it only takes them an hour to get into town.

---

After parking she turned the car off, took off her seatbelt and leaned over the fluffy menace to get her bag and the old leash, resulting in a few slopy doggy kisses to her face and neck that she has to wipe off when she sits up.

"Soap, gross!" Freya complained, half-smiling half scrunching up her face as she lifted the bottom of her skirt to get rid of the warm slober he left behind.

She hooked the leash on him no problem, then hesitantly opened her door and got out. "Come on boy, be good and don't pull me please," She called, patting her thigh to encourage him to come out. She tightened the leash in her hand when he stood up, but he only hopped out nice and easy, and stood next to her as she closed the door.

"Good boy, good boy," She cooed, patting between his ears. He soaked up the praise, nearly knocking her over with his weight alone as he leaned into her legs and touch, brown fluffy tail kicking up dust as it wagged.

She stepped back, snorting at the way he stumbled and almost fell without her support. "Let's go Soap, c'mon," She told him, holding the leash loose ad she walked forward confidently.

Immediately, he fell into step next to her, almost a perfect heel. Didn't stray far enough for any tension to be on the leash, only let his nose fall to the ground when a scent was particularly interesting, and barely paid a glance at people walking by, complimenting and cooing at him fron afar.

Freya thought that whoever owned Soap must be pretty good at training and raising dogs, because he's essentially a perfect gentleman. They walk into the local pet shot without any problems, and she said hi to the worker before trying to find him some food that he liked. That was the only problem they had the entire time.

She bought another bowl, because she only had one at the moment and he would need water and food at the same time. She also bought a few toys and chews, because she didn't need anything in her old family home to end up broken or chewed on, the entire house was made of wood after all. She even bought a new leash, a simple black nylon leash that wasn't pealing and practically as old as she was.

And if she felt a little ridiculous for buying all of these different things, despite the possibility that he'd be gone within the next couple of hours? Well, Soap couldn't possibly judge her for those things. Maybe she was being a little much, buying him toys and treats like he'd be sticking around for a while, but she needed something to do while her boyfriend was out and about without her, on a hike at a nearby national park with a tour guide for most of the day.

He'd be back either super duper late, around 3am or 5am, or he'd take a rest at a hotel and drive back in the morning and get home at around 10am. Either way she'd be alone for the day, simply because hiking with Jack wasn't very fun.

Not that she didn't enjoy it, she'd spent plenty of her childhood exploring the surrounding woods both with her father and alone. Hiking with him just felt like a massive production that was about doing it to brag that you did rather than because you enjoyed it, which really sucked all the fun out of it.

She had already promised Soap she'd buy him all those things, let him pick and choose which ones he wanted, so she couldn't possibly go back on her word now, even if she felt a little silly.

When the worker offered her a couple pieces of different kibble for him to sample after she explained her situation, he turned his nose up at all of them, some he didn't even bother to sniff before knocking them out of her hand or just completely ignored them. It was like he didn't even consider it edible!

To be fair it was dry dog kibble, but also on the other side wasn't he a dog?! Just what the heck was his owner even feeding him, anyways? Raw meat?

The idea clicked in her mind, and she sighed. "You're a spoiled boy aren't you?" Then she turned to the worker and asked about raw food, to which she sadly explained that they didn't have anything like that here, which wasn't surprising. Thankfully, she directed her to the buchers just on the outskirts of town who might be able to help. So, naturally, she loaded up her temporary pup and headed out there.

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

TF141 Meeting Soap’s Little Sister (a.k.a. You)

CoD ML

The task force didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this. They already have to deal with Soap’s husky antics, which can already be too much to handle. Multiply that by two and no one, especially Simon, wants to deal with that.

But they certainly wouldn’t mind the company of the woman in the doorway.

Why on earth didn’t Soap warn them?

For John, it’s the sweater paws. For a second they make him selfishly want to dress you in one of his sweaters.

For Simon, it’s the way you shyly hide behind your brother, a habit you still have at your big age. Normally he loathes shows of fragility, but yours is endearing to him. For the first time in a very long while, it kindles something in him.

For Kyle, it’s your eyes. He simply can’t look away even though he’s aware it makes you uncomfortable.

“Lads, meet my sister, Y/N.” The adoration Soap has for you is plain to see in the gentle smile that plays out on his lips, proud to be your brother and amused you’ve barely changed from your younger days. Why else would you look at him, lowkey terrified of the strangers he’s brought into your home. “It’s awright, hen. They’re good men, even the big bawbag with the skull mask. Go oan an’ introduce yerself.”

Clutching your brother’s sleeve, relieved he’s home and glad for his protection, you introduce yourself. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

And in that moment, without so much as trying, you have your brother’s unit wrapped around your finger.

So much so that Simon removes his balaclava before he even crosses the threshold. Unbeknownst to you, it’s extremely rare to see the man without his mask and always leads to the unit members exchanging surprised glances.

“What’s this, LT?” your brother asks, badly faking disbelief.

“Proper etiquette. Plus, I can’t eat with the thing on.”

“Oh, so you do eat. I thought ghosts didn’t have ta.”

“Johnny…”

“Just messing with ye, Ghost.”

“Ghost?” you ask.

“It’s my callsign, miss. I- I mean, Y/N.” He keeps his distance, but tries to make himself as small as possible to seem less intimidating. “We ain’t on duty now, so’s just Simon.”

“I see.”

Throughout the night, your brother’s comrades try to win your favour. Kyle offers to help set the table, teaming up with John who beats him to it by lifting the stack of plates in your hands. “Can’t have the lady of the house do everything, can we?”

“But-“

“Please, Y/N, allow me.” His features soften, though there’s a strange glint in his eyes you can’t name. Nevertheless, it sharpens further into sterness as John turns around and starts speaking like you’d imagine he does out in the field. “Gaz, get over here. We have to help our hostess out.”

“You… you really don’t…”

“It’s the least we can do,” Kyle reassures you, shown up at your side at the first word of the captain. “We’ll try to do it neatly.”

“Oi, Gaz, stop being cheeky and get moving.”

“Yes, sir.” Kyle sighs. “He makes it sound like we’re on a battlefield. Fortunately, this is less severe, innit?”

“It might be if there aren’t glasses between now and ten seconds,” John mutters, circling around you two to put the last plates down and move on to cutlery.

“Ever the perfectionist. Where do you keep them?” Kyle asks.

You point at a cupboard. “Right there.”

“Okay. Y/N, we’ll do a proper job. Promise.” And with that, he’s off to help set the table.

While cooking, you observe Simon dawdling around the kitchen. Or, rather, as you discover when you lift your head to check what’s going on, he’s forced to thanks to Johnny.

“Och, just offer yer help. Ah dinnae ken, chop some veggies. Also, she’s into video games- Y/N!” Johnny slaps Simon on the shoulder, feigning ignorance. “Can this wee bawbag help ye with anything?”

“Stop calling me that,” Simon grumbles through gritted teeth.

“Do you cook?”

“He-“ Soap opens his mouth to answer for his friend yet finds himself cut short.

“Haud yer wheest, John. I was nae asking you, I was asking Simon.” Holding out your spatula as a threat to your brother, you turn to the gentle giant.

Simon looks at you through his lashes, but quickly averts his gaze when your eyes meet. “I dabble. Try to put proper grub on the table sometimes.”

“Help me do the same?”

“Uh… sure.”

“Lovely!”

“Have fun, LT.” Johnny offers you both a cheeky grin, then turns on his heel to return to the others.

And so Simon finds himself cooking alongside you. Truth be told, you partially did it to save him from his brothers in arms. Regardless of how well he knows them and the amount of time he’s spent with them, their extroverted personalities still wear him out. His silence is telling, different from the intimidating version he dropped the moment you opened the door. You’ve seen how his eyes glaze over, occupied with dreams you can only guess at. Occasionally he’ll nod and make a noise to make the others think he’s listening.

Nevertheless, it’s still surprising Simon tries to start a conversation.

A conversation that goes in all sorts of, mostly nerdy, directions. So soon you find yourself listening to elaborate explanations of the lore of various FromSoftware games, a topic Simon passionately enlightens you on.

He stops mid-sentence when you chuckle. “What?”

“You have a nice voice.”

“Oh… uh… thanks.”

“Jesus, Y/N, you’re some kind of miracle worker.” Gaz walks into the kitchen to grab another beer from the fridge. “How’d you get Ghost to talk?”

Simon glowers at his companion, but stands down when you gesture for him to remain calm. “Sometimes you simply need the right person, a genuine heart that listens. Now, boys, let’s eat.”

“Food?” Johnny calls from the couch.

“My days, what are ye? A husky?” you call, only partially truly annoyed.

Dinner is an amiable affair. The men (yes, even Soap) censor themselves, finding it inappropriate to start effin and blindin in your company. All the same, they include you in the conversation however possible and fall silent when they notice you want to chime in. Unbeknownst to you all, Johnny is especially vigilant none of the other men makes an advance towards you. Sure, you’re a grown woman. Nonetheless, to him, you’ll always be the wee bairn he held as a four-year-old boy, the barely grown girl who couldn’t stop crying when he was deployed for the first time.

You’re his little sister, the only girl he’d gift the moon if he could.

That being said, though, should you end up with any member of the unit, he dearly hopes it’s Simon. So it’s actually quite reassuring for him to see you two get along as well as you do.

“Two peas in a pod,” Soap mumbles, the words muffled by beer and the clinking of cutlery.

The lads gesture for you to remain seated while they clear the table and do the dishes.

“‘S alright, Y/N. Leave it to us,” John says when you try to get up from your chair.

“You really don’t-“

“No, no. Please.” The bear-like hand on your shoulder is gentle though strong, persuasive in its conviction for you to remain seated. “A small favour, really, to repay your kindness.”

The table cleared, John and Simon excuse themselves for a quick smoke. In the meanwhile, Johnny and Kyle wash the dishes.

For dessert, you sit the men down with coffee and tea to enjoy with a scone.

Kyle falls a little more for you when you show you’re full of contrasts. Shy on the surface yet so fierce when defying your brother. “I was doing fine, crocheting my time away without puppy antics.”

“I’m nae like a dog.” Your brother stops mid-bite to protest.

“Johnny, yer a bloody husky.”

“Well, at least I’m one that did nae get shot.”

“Oh, haud yer wheesht, like you ever will. Just enjoy yer scone and tea. Wait!” You hasten to the fridge to retrieve a jar of orange marmelade. “Here, have this.”

“Homemade?”

“‘Course. It’s not like I’ve forgotten how you dislike store bought.”

“Thanks, sis.”

“Thank you for coming back in one piece, bro.” You turn to the men, who all sit up, alert. “And thank you for bringing my brother home.”

John has to restrain himself and not give into the urge to plop you in his lap. To make sure he won’t, he tucks his hands between his legs when you brush past him to retake your seat across the table.

Simon is good at hiding his emotions, but definitely wouldn’t mind it if you leaned on him and talked some more about video gaming. He loves the way your whole expression brightens when you do and would like nothing better than for you to be his player number two.

Stories and small talk, with the occasional silence to appreciate being alive and well, fills the kitchen as the arms of the clock creep closer to midnight.

At some point you stifle a yawn. Unfortunately, not before your brother catches you doing so. Johnny looks at the clock then back at you. “Alright, lads, it’s been great. However, despite her stubborn arse refusing to admit it, Y/N’s getting tired. Now being the great big brother I am,” the harsh slap on the upper arm does little to make him pipe down, “I think it’s time I show all of you the door.”

John, Kyle, and Simon get up without so much as a word of protest. After all, it’s bad etiquette to wear your hostess out nor does it help your chances with her.

You expected only a handshake as a farewell. Nevertheless, it’s hard to refuse the open invitation for a hug John gives you. His embrace is warm and gentle, testing out the waters to see what you will and won’t allow. His chest rises and falls with a satisfied sigh when you let him rest his head on top of yours. To be honest, it’s nice and comforting, the way he rubs some heat into your arms. “Goodnight, love. Thank you for the splendid evening.”

Kyle’s hug is more casual, like you’re a dear friend he’ll see again in the short run.

“Can I get a hug from you too?” you ask the man standing by the door, who has his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. For a moment Simon seems about to step forward. Yet, for whatever reason, he remains where he stands.

“I don’t think-“

“Please?”

How can he say no now? His mind short-circuits when you wrap your arms around his waist. His hands hover in the air for a moment before he places them lightly on your shoulders. “Thanks for tonight, Y/N.”

“Had fun?”

“I did.”

“Glad to hear it. Also,” you lean back to look at him, “keep the mask off. You’re not a lieutenant here, not Ghost.”

An amused hum escapes Simon, though later in the car he’d have to keep denying Kyle’s allegations he saw him smile. “Copy.”

“Go oan, I won’t keep you any longer.”

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Simon.”

You watch the men clamber into John’s car. They’re all staying the night at his place before heading off home.

“You like him, don’t ye?”

“Who?”

“Ghost.”

“I don’t know him.” Johnny gives you a quizzical look. “Simon, though, perhaps. He’s a good man.”

“He is.”

The only man who has his blessing to court you.

Who he hopes will truly be family one day.

His future brother-in-law.

[xo-cod]

https://www.tumblr.com/xo-cod/738798264594415616/141-k%C3%B6nig-sex-bloopers

sorry yeah that's it i meant irl it's not perfect and stuff happens sometimes :) whatever ignore this im silly

you're not silly, i loved this :') <3 this might be cringe and it's ooc/rushed/headcannons but LMAOO i tried my best :") nsfw/sfw ahead!

the not so sexy moments of sex with the 141

price trying to be all sexy and suave loosening his top and removing his bucket hat in an act of seduction which results in him stubbing his toe and yelping in pain for a good few minutes

gaz panicking at the thought of his cum going into your eye after a blowjob and proceeding to scare himself for days on the off-chance you develope some sort of eye infection

soap after getting slightly confused with what he was doing grabbed a diagram of a vagina and made you hold it so he could have better success rate of making you cum

simon screeching loudly after snapping on his latex condom a little harder than recommended. bear with him, he has to take a few minutes, his body took a screenshot from how intense it was

price ending up falling asleep during a hand job but in his defence he was on five days with three hours of sleep and a whole bunch of coffee that was keeping him going

gaz very confidently and with that half smirk of his, mid way giving you the best head asking you if you're about to have an organism

soap realizing very quickly that food play is not like the movies and that it stings/burns, proceeds to awkwardly hop and waddle into the bathroom

simon trying be all cute and romantic which results in him spooning you close to his body, only to proceed to hack and choke when he inhaled your hair by accident

price having the lack of coordination after he tried to undress himself trying to come over to the bed and ending up face planting into the floor with a huge thud and a string of curse words following by (this mans just stays falling LMAO)

gaz genuinely ashamed about tearing your expensive lingerie in his excitement that he gives himself a time out and learns the true meaning patience

simon, bless his heart, already breaking the bedframe in his excitement when he grabbed you and pinned you against it.

gaz frantically trying to get it back it up, cussing his cock out and trying to awkwardly laugh but it comes out as a cry for help

simon slamming his forehead into the doorframe when he tried to be all hot and sexy, proceeding to cut himself and cuss everything out within a 10 mile radius (never you though :3)

soap's confidence absolutely obliterating when he was so turned on he ended up cumming while trying to get inside you

gaz making you take a survey after sex and telling you to rate the experience and what he could improve on next time

simon absolutely enraged at the mark on your neck thinking someone had hurt you, completely forgetting he was the one to leave it on you and it was a hickey

soap falling asleep while trying to go down on you after he finished a long mission. his head was buried between the warmth and comfort of your thighs and his eyes fell like shutters, nuzzling deep unconsciously into your heat

simon just zoning out when staring at your tits, lost in a trance and you're wondering if he's going to actually touch them. he does so but after a good 15 minutes

price squeezing your tiddies to paw at them and get them all perky but ends up feeling your ribs in the darkness and gets excited.

soap just poking at your nipple mid thrust in pure curiosity. not even to flick or pinch them, just a small poke before he goes back to doing what he was doing

gaz having a sneezing fit when he tried to lick your neck and chest only to be allergic to the perfume you were wearing

[hibiscuswrites]

Do you write for COD MW2?? If you do, could I have Ghost, Alejandro, Rudy, and Price reaction to coming home to their women after a tough mission with a lot of close calls?? Thanks!

I do! 🥰 I haven’t yet but I’d like to try my hand at them so I’ve added them to my list. I’ve written a few things for practice but I haven’t posted them. Admittedly, I don’t feel like I write Soap very well 🥴 but I’ll keep trying. Hope you like it 💕

Edit: just realized I’m illiterate and put soap instead of price so I added him in at the end 🙈 sorry about that

You can see his shoulders drop in relief as soon as he lays eyes on you

Happy to be home

Happy to be safe

Happy to be back with you

There were a few times he was worried he wouldn’t make it back to you and not that he finally has, he can’t let you go

His embrace is gentle yet secure as he clings to you

“Missed you so much, mi vida.”

He clings to you for days once he’s back

Definitely makes you breakfast in bed with fresh fruits and whipped cream smiley faces on your pancakes

He’ll sit with you on the couch and watch whatever your heart desires

He makes love to you gently

All soft kisses and hand holding

Enjoys for you to ride him and lets you take whatever you need from him

He’s more than happy to lay there and look up at you looking like a goddess as you bounce and grind

Nearly knocks you over with the force of his embrace when he finally gets his hands on you

One too many close calls where he wondered if gazing at the picture of you in his best would be the last time he ever saw you

He’s handsy

Paws gripping at your ass and thighs as he spins around with you

“There she is, my pretty girl.”

Probably trips with you

He doesn’t mean to be rough with you, he just can’t help it that he’s clumsy in his excitement

He goes down on you every chance he gets on nearly every surface in the house

On the sofa

In the shower

With you bent over the kitchen counter

He’s a munch through and through

And stays by your side like a puppy, simply happy to be back with his favorite girl

His embrace feels like it could pop your eyes clean out of your head

It’s tight and desperate almost

One bulky arm wrapped around your waist, the other cradling the back of your head, holding your face into his chest

Before he had you, it didn’t matter all that much if he didn’t make it home

But now that you’re his, he knows he needs to make it back in one piece

He needs to be there to protect you

To look after you

To make sure you eat and drink enough water

He holds you tightly as if you might slip away if he’s not careful

Eyes fluttering closed as you lean forward and press a soft kiss to the bridge if his nose

He allows himself to enjoy your affection and tenderness, whether he believes he deserves it or not

Loves soaking in a hot bath with you, feeling your back against his chest as he just enjoys the safe silence

Just don’t tell any one

He also will go down on you until you cry, hands pushing away at his head and shoulders

Whining that you can’t take any more

But he’s not interested in hearing that

“Sure you can, love. You wouldn’t deny me this perfect pretty pussy now, would ya?”

He devours you as soon as he has you in his arms

His mouth and hands touching everywhere he can get to

He’s barely got the door locked behind him before he’s stripping you

Leaving soft bites and hickies trailed along your body

He knows things could’ve easily gone south and he would’ve never seen you again

And that’s a thought he simply cannot bear

He’s got you in a mating press on the living room floor before you know it

Eyes fixated on your face as you whimper and pant, full to the brim with him

He commits every expression and noise to memory

“Missed me like crazy, huh chulita? My poor baby was so lonely without me.”

He ignores the rug burn in his knees, the very least of his worries

But he’s tender and caring with you afterwards, cleaning you up and cooking you your favorite meal

Planning date nights

Taking you out dancing

Enjoying as much of you as he possibly can before he has to leave again

He encases you tightly

Breathing in your scent

Committing it to memory

He’s missed you like crazy

Gazed at that crumpled picture of you in his pocket just in case it’s the last time

And now that he’s home he just can’t take his eyes or hands off of you

He wants to shower, get the grime off before he taints you

And he brings you with him

Making sure he’s clean before he has you pressed against the shower wall

Showing you how much he’s missed his girl

“Can’t get enough of you, I swear. You’ve ruined me.”

Romance for days once he’s back home

Flowers fresh from the florist

Little love notes scattered around the house

Anything to see you smile

General taglist

 @titty-teetee   @vibranium-soul @ateliefloresdaprimavera @glimmerglittergirl @hatterripper31 @lilac-tea-time @krysiewithak

[thedovesaredying]

Monsters in the Dark | Nikto x Reader | Part 2

Second chapter of the Cowboy!Nikto AU. Written from the POV of Nikto this time. A reminder once again that there's a prologue and "part 1" is only the first full chapter. The original cowboy AU is owned and created by @ghouljams.

A/N: I'm a day late on my estimation for when it would be done, but life decided to get me sick, busy with uni work, and put one of my legs completely out of action. I also realized about 3 husbandry manuals deep into my research that the chapter would be a bit too long if I included that much information. Instead, the info will be sprinkled in among the next few chapters.

Warnings: Sputnik being a silly girl.

Masterlist: CoD Masterlist

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The weather is downright miserable. While one might assume the worst weather would be torrential rain or unforgiving hail, Nikto is firmly of the belief that there’s nothing worse than a hot, sunny day. It’s hard enough to be constantly covered from head to toe, but to then add on the Texan sun beating down at its full strength? He’s certain he’ll be nothing more than a puddle of sweat by the end of the day.  

At least Sputnik seems to be enjoying the disgusting temperatures. She’s running around the front of the property, completely unfazed by the heat. She welcomes it, in fact, using it as the perfect excuse to paddle into the large dam for a cool swim at the day’s warmest.  

Her paws are caked with mud and grass, so much to her sadness she’s been barred from entering the house, forced to wait until she’s dried off and all the muck has fallen off of her paws. If she’s still dirty by the end of the day then a quick hosing down will be in order, but she’ll likely consider that a fun game too.  

For now, she’s content to lay stretched out on the porch, her side rapidly rising and falling as she pants.  

The weather isn’t the only thing that’s miserable, however. Nikto’s mood has been foul ever since his forced trip into town for new supplies. A certain hyena had decided that she was bored while her owner was away and had decided to chew a rather large hole in the wall of the shed.  

The hole was easily large enough for her to climb through and so, after having already spent most of the day hard at work, Nikto was forced to leave for the only hardware store in town. Some new planks of wood and a hammer not riddled with rust later, and he’s reminded of the invoice he received the vet clinic a few days prior and has also yet to pay for.  

He’s not quite sure what possessed him to go to the clinic in person, but he was disappointed regardless with what greeted him. The receptionist was painfully cheery and seemed determined to dig into his business with her endless questions. He’d left feeling completely drained from only a single conversation with the woman. You hadn’t been there. He can’t fathom why that annoys him so much.  

The hole in the shed was simple enough to fix, even under the intensity of the sweltering heat, but the issue of Sputnik remains.  

Clearly, he can’t leave her unattended for several hours at a time just for work. She’s never had to entertain herself in such an environment and clearly, it’s stressing her out being without her only packmate. She requires both social interaction and physical activity, but above all of that, needs mental stimulation.  

Like a toddler left without a guardian, Sputnik has decided that she can tear apart the house and garden while unattended. Plants have been torn out of the ground, wooden structures gnawed to bits, and most concerningly, large holes dug along the fence line.  

The situation is far from ideal, but Nikto does not abandon his own. He isn’t like those bastards at the CIA who are willing to leave those loyal to them knowing full well they will perish without help. He made that decision a long time ago, and Sputnik’s very name is a tribute to that.  

It was only three years ago, but it felt like eons. It started with a small enemy group hidden deep within the South African wilderness who were utilising spotted hyenas as guard animals. Nikto and his team had cut through the animals both outside and inside the building, even the ones hidden away in the basement below. 

In the end, only a single cub remained; a tiny girl still nestled up against the steadily cooling body of her mother. She couldn’t have been more than a week or two of age, bright eyed as all hyena newborns are, and covered in scraggly fur.  

The other men on the team planned on putting the animal out of her misery, but the sight gave Nikto pause. She was small and defenceless, and abandoned by her cowardly handlers to be killed by their enemy. It was a story he couldn’t help but find familiar. Picking up the infant, she snuggles into his vest, completely trusting of him despite not having known him for more than a few seconds.  

She whines and licks at him as he tucks her into his shirt, safe and warm pressed up against scarred skin. No one says a word, when he leaves the compound with the cub and boards the waiting helicopter for the trip back to base.  

His first thought was to name her Laika, but that name seemed a little too common for his taste, and so he chose Sputnik, the name of Laika’s space capsule and eventual tomb. A tribute to yet another stray who was left behind by those who should have protected her.  

Sputnik would not suffer the same fate; she would never be disregarded like a broken toy thrown into the trash. She’s good, she’s loyal, she trusts Nikto unconditionally. Destroying a bit of property would never be a reason to break that trust.  

Instead, he presses dial on your number and holds his phone to his ear. He’s been thinking it over for several minutes, finger hovering over the button with your contact listed, before forcing himself to press it. For a long while it rings and he’s about to give up when you finally answer with a bright greeting to whoever is on the other side.  

He grunts out your name, listening as you happily chirp his own back at him in return. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” you ask. He can hear the soft rumbling of a car’s engine in the background and can only assume you’re driving somewhere.  

“I require... assistance,” he says after a long pause, letting the conversation drift into silence. While it isn’t necessarily help he’s asking for, it still rankles deeply that he isn’t solving the issue alone. He despises being indebted to anyone for anything, but for some reason he doesn’t get the feeling you’re out to acquire favours from anyone. You’re a professional merely doing what you’re trained for and nothing more. He can admire that.  

“What can I help you with? Is Sputnik alright?” You sound so genuinely concerned about her, so much so that it sounds like you almost drop your phone.  

He glances down at the hyena laying happily at his feet, panting up at him with a broad grin. “She is fine,” he confirms, catching the relieved sigh you let out, “it is behavioural issues she is dealing with.”  

You make a soft sound, clearly intrigued, “well, I’m on the road at the moment heading toward my next appointment, but I should have time to drop in to your place in a few hours. Will you be around then?”  

“да,” he hums, “we will be here.”  

“Perfect! I’ll be there in a few,” you confirm, and after offering an acknowledging grunt, he ends the call.  

He goes to pocket the phone but pauses, glancing at your number. Mulling it over for a good long while, he selects the number and adds it to his contacts. There’s only two other people there, one of them his current workplace and the other one of his old acquaintances from before even his time in KorTac.  

A rather dramatic huff from Sputnik draws his attention from staring at his phone, and he watches her with hidden amusement as she rolls over onto her stomach. She looks up at him with big, sad eyes and a pathetic whine. When he merely rolls his eyes at her she playfully snaps her teeth in his direction.  

“Я не знал, что ты такая королева драмы,” he growls back, curling the undamaged part of his lip at her.  

The hyena, fortunately, can tell he’s still joking despite his deadpan tone and leaps to her feet with a delighted cackle. She shakes out her coat, biting at the air. The moment he so much as twitches a finger in her direction she turns and leaps off the top of the deck, forgoing the stairs so she can sprint across the yard.  

Nikto stands from his chair but doesn’t give chase, watching as the crazy animal spins around in circles before darting off toward the dam again. She dives into the water with a splash, sending muddy water in all directions. He cringes slightly at the sight of the hyena now dripping with muck. At least he was already planning on hosing her down. The rest of the afternoon passes slowly, with Nikto taking some time to rest while Sputnik causes minimal trouble.  

When your car finally does pull up, the poor girl has exhausted herself again, laying in a pile of leaves while she happily naps away. The moment her flicking ears pick up the sound of your truck on the gravel she jumps up again, eyes wide as she takes in the familiar sight. She’s already giggling to herself with excitement, looking between Nikto and your vehicle.  

“место!” Nikto calls, ignoring the sad whimper that earns. He approaches when you pull up, patiently waiting as you drop out of the front seat and close the door behind you.  

When you spot him, you offer a wave and grin, “hey, Nikto!” You take a moment to glance over at Sputnik and he can see her near enough vibrating with how excited she is to come over and greet you out of the corner of her eye. “How’ve you been doing?” you stop just before him, looking him right in the eye, completely unfazed by the monster you’re facing down.  

“We are fine,” he says, perhaps a little too firmly given the way you blink at him, “we require some assistance with behavioural issues.” He quickly amends his statement in the hopes of not immediately scaring you off.  

Fortunately, you’re quick to bounce back, a smile returning to your face, “of course, what sorts of problems are you experiencing?”  

“Спутник!” The hyena’s head shoots up upon hearing her name, “ко мне!” She sprints across the grass, very nearly crashing into his legs with her enthusiasm to heed her owner’s command. “She is getting bored when left alone,” he explains, watching as you reach your hand out for the hyena, “eating walls, digging holes, breaking everything she can reach.”  

Sputnik snuffles at your hand, before whining and immediately shifting to lean up against you, demanding pets. You scratch behind her neck and Sputnik’s tongue lolls out of her mouth in delight. “I’m sure we can work something out to help prevent her from damaging anything else or accidentally eating something she shouldn’t be.”  

“She struggles when left alone, especially during work hours,” he adds on, turning and starting to stalk toward the side of the house where the majority of the damage can be seen.  

“Okay, well she sounds like she just needs some enrichment to keep her occupied while you’re away,” you nod to yourself as you follow Nikto around to the side of the house. Several of the small plants that had been happily growing in little spots around the yard have been either pulled from the soil or completely shredded if they couldn’t be moved.  

You look at the scattered remains of the poor shed’s wall, but don’t look entirely surprised by the backyard warzone you’ve stepped into. You frown down at Sputnik, scratching her between the ears, “what a silly girl,” you coo, rubbing at her ears as the hyena grins up at you with half-lidded eyes, “you shouldn’t be eating all this stuff, it’ll make your tummy sore!” 

Somehow, your baby-talk voice just serves to make Sputnik even giddier, and she eagerly licks at the tips of your fingers. Nikto almost rolls his eyes at the little heart eyes the animal is subjecting you to. It’s impressive, really, how she can remember someone is a friend from only a single interaction.  

When you snap back from your babying of the animal, you quickly refocus. “Hyenas have very powerful jaws, and they love to chew things, so if she doesn’t have enough to keep her entertained then she’ll find something to destroy.”  

“She was given an old tyre a few weeks ago, but it only lasted a few days.” To say he was deeply unimpressed with how quickly she’d torn it to pieces would be an understatement. He knew that Sputnik had quite the bite on her, but to chomp through nine millimetres of rubber like it’s cardboard? Impressive, if a little annoying.  

“How big is your freezer?” you abruptly ask him, and Nikto suddenly worries where this line of questioning is going. Does he need to check the trunk of your car? Regardless, he offers you a nod.  

“Perfect!” You clap your hands together, making Sputnik jump excitedly at the sudden sound, “it’s supposed to be quite hot tomorrow, so I can think of at least one idea for her.” You start listing out what the two of you are going to do rapid-fire with the same confidence and efficiency of any commanding officer.  

You’re in your element, your passion for your work clear as day and you have him following your every instruction. You’re like a fount of knowledge when it comes to anything and everything husbandry related, suggesting changes to Sputnik’s diet, new toys to keep her entertained, and ways to prevent her from destroying anything she really shouldn’t be messing with.  

When you finally end up leaving, it’s long past sundown. Sputnik has grown bored of watching the two of you working in the shed and has retired to her massive dog bed for a nap, so the two of you have been working in comfortable silence. He’s glad you don’t feel the need to fill the air with irritating chatter, only offering corrections here and there.  

He escorts you to back to your truck, closing your door behind you once you’re settled comfortably into the driver’s seat. You roll down the window and offer him a grin, but he can see just how tired you are given how your eyes are slightly drooped. “How much do we owe?” he asks, quickly tearing his gaze from your sweet smile.  

Little wrinkles appear across your forehead as your lips turn downward, an innocent, confused look on your face, “owe you?” 

He resists the urge to roll his eyes and instead just huffs in mild amusement, “payment, for your work.” 

Your eyes light up in understanding and you laugh, “oh, no, don’t worry about that,” you wave him off, “I’m just happy to help out.” You just smile up at him, as if you can’t see anything wrong with what you just said.  

Nikto is forced to remind himself that you’re a civilian, not another untrustworthy operator. Not everyone does things purely for the pay they’ll be rewarded with, even if the very thought of not giving you something in return makes him uncomfortable. He holds his hand out to you, “phone.”  

You blink at him for a second, but quickly do as you’re told, just like the good girl you are. He goes into your contacts and adds his number and details, hitting save the moment he’s done. He doesn’t bother adding a picture, passing your phone back to you, “call us when you require assistance.” He waits until you offer him a nod before he steps back from the side of the car.  

You have an odd, flustered look on your face for some reason, but you’re quick to snap out of whatever daze you're in and give him a quick wave as you put your truck into reverse. He watches silently as you disappear back down the driveway and into the steadily darkening evening, waiting until you’re out of sight.  

Sputnik is absolutely delighted the following morning when Nikto presents her with her blood and peanut butter ice block.

-

Translations

“да,” - “Yes” 

“Я не знал, что ты такая королева драмы,” - “I didn't know you were such a drama queen,”  

“место!” - “Stay!” 

“Спутник!” - “Sputnik!” 

“ко мне!” - “Come!”  

[cmncisspnandmore]

One Night Stand; Part 3

Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

Warnings: OOC Simon (kinda?), fluff, alcohol, pregancy, talks of abortion, vomiting,

Summary: Its been 3 months since your night in the sheets with Simon and your life just got a whole lot more complicated.

A/N: I know, I know. okay. I get it. Not everyone like the pregnancy trope, so if you dont im sorry. If i lose some readers for this then im sad to see you go but i hope to see you in future writings i do for the COD men. This is not going to be like other pregnancy tropes that get all mushy and fluffy and light after. This story will be filled with dark themes coming in later chapters that i hope will keep people interseted. We all know Simon Riley's life cant be easy, so if you're still here after this part. Buckle up. Its a wild ride.

Word Count: 5,015

New to the Series? Catch up here: Part 1, Part 2

The bar looked exactly the same as it did three months ago. The music wasn't as loud, but that was probably because it was still early. Many people were still at work at 5pm on a Thursday.

Not you, you had found a job working online, writing articles for business pages. It wasn't the most exciting thing in the world but it paid well, and it occupied most of your time. An added bonus of not leaving for work was you never had to worry about coming home from the office to find someone on your couch. You shake your head trying to clear the thoughts. You weren't even 100% sure why you were here, the chances that Soap even knew Simon were slim. But he had said he knew almost everyone that came to the bar. 

So there was a chance.

One you couldn't pass up, you had to at least try.

Wrapping your coat around you tighter, you walk into the bar. The dim lights reflect off the shiny tables. A few people sit at them, watching a replay of a game on tv. You glance around behind the bar, looking for the familiar mohawk. 

It pops up from behind the bar towards the end, Soap holds a bin of limes in his arms. He sets the bin down on the shiny black countertop, pulling a small cutting board out from the top of the bin and a knife. He slices a lime in half as you slide into the seat in front of him. His blue eyes meet yours and a smile breaks out on his face. 

“Lass! Good to see ya, you disappeared on me the last time ye were here!” He smiles, turning the lime and cutting it again. 

“Sorry about that, I needed to clear my head, I hope I didn't upset you,” you smile back, placing your hands on the bar.

“Nay, what can I get for ye? Vodka Soda?” he asks, setting the knife down as he turns towards the shelves of alcohol behind him.

“Uh, actually, can I just have water instead?” You bite your bottom lip and Soap nods, grabbing a glass and filling it. He slides the glass of water in front of you, and you stare down into it. 

“Everything okay?” he asks, looking at you with one raised eyebrow. 

“Oh yeah, I'm fine. Early day tomorrow ya know? Don't want to be hung over is all.”

“Aye i get that, so what brings you here?” Soap leans his forearms against the bar, “Miss me?” He smiles.

You can't help but roll your eyes, “Oh totally,” you laugh.

“I knew it, not many women can resist the MacTavish charm,” Soap grins, he stands back up and picks up the knife. He cuts each lime into wedges before putting them in the bin, you reach over grabbing one from the cutting board and squeeze it into your water. 

“Aye! Paw off,” Soap smiles, shaking the knife at you. A smile of your own breaks out on your lips as you watch him. 

“You have plenty to spare, plus someone around here has to keep you busy.”

“I assure you Lass, the folk around here keep me plenty busy,” Soap points over your shoulder where Price and Gaz are walking in. They’re deep in a conversation as they make their way over to where you are sitting in front of Soap. 

Kyle is the first to notice you, and he pauses looking at you over. “Y/n, it's good to see you again, not going to lie. I was kinda sad you left without a goodbye last time,” Gaz takes the seat on the left.

“Sorry about that, I promise to say bye this time. I don’t want to bruise your ego,” You say over the rim of your glass. 

“Good, I don't think I can hear him wallow about it anymore,” Price says as he sits in the stool on your right. “So what do you think of London? Everything you could’ve imagined?”

“It’s alright… It rains a lot more than I'm used to, but it's not too bad. Definitely different from the small town I'm from,” you look over at him. He gives you a small smile, and turns towards Soap. 

“Soap, we ship out tomorrow morning, be ready at 0600 hours,” Price grunts as Soap puts the last lime into the bin. 

“Yes sir,” Soap turns towards the bottles of liquor on the shelf and grabs a bottle of bourbon. He sets it down on the counter with a soft thud, he then grabs two glasses for them, pouring each man two fingers. He slides the glasses across the bar to them, the acidic smell of the bourbon makes your stomach turn. Saliva pools in your mouth as you desperately try to swallow. 

“Oh uh, Soap, I wanted to ask if you knew someone actually,” You take a sip of water, your eyes following him as he moves behind the bar. Soaps bright blue eyes look over at you, his brows furrowed together. 

“I might,” he smiles. A loud noise from behind you startles you, and a drunken man tumbles into the back of your stool. His drink spilling down your back as he leans against the back of the barstool, the smell of the alcohol hits your nose. 

“Oops,” the drunken man mumbles, his breath wafting over your face.

Your stomach rolls, as Price and Gaz help the man up. Gaz and Price half drag him away from you as he continues to mumble about his drink. Gaz says something and pats him on the chest as they pull him to the door. You stand from the chair, the fabric of your coat and shirt now sticking to you. Nausea rolls through you as you try to breathe through your mouth. 

“You alright lass? You look a little green,” Soap is now standing in front of you, a clean bar towel in his hands. He gently pats the towel against your soaked shirt and coat trying to soak up some of the liquid that's seeping into your skin. 

You can't answer, if you open your mouth you’re sure you’ll throw up so you push past Soap and hurry towards the bathroom. Soap follows behind you, pausing at the door to the women's room. You shove open one of the stall doors and drop to your knees. The cold tiles bite through the fabric of your jeans, as the contents of your stomach is emptied into the porcelain bowl. It takes you several minutes to stop dry heaving, your stomach clenching painfully with each contraction of your abs. When the feeling settles you stand, before rinsing your mouth out with some water from the tap. You grab a paper towel, wiping your hands and mouth.

“You alright in there?” Soap calls through the door, his voice laced with concern. 

“Yeah..” you call back, tossing the paper towel into the bin and pulling open the door, “Sorry about that.” You shove your hands into your pockets as you come face to face with Soap. His eyebrows knit together in worry as he looks over you, one hand hovers in the air as if hes going back and forth on if he should touch you or not.

“You su-” he pauses looking over your shoulder, his eyes widened slightly.

“MacTavish, the bar can't run itself…” A familiar voice rumbles, the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. Memories of your night 3 months ago rushes back, that same voice that murmured praise to you as he pounded into you. 

You whip around, at the end of the hall stands Simon, his black hoodie pulled up over his head, his mouth and nose covered by a skull print face mask. His brown eyes widen slightly as he sees you. “Y/n…” he whispers. 

“You two know each other?” Soap muses from behind me, his hands coming to rest on my shoulder as he walks by. An uncomfortable silence settles over the hallway and Soap slips by, muttering “I’ll leave you two alone…” 

Simon takes a few steps towards you, and it seems like he takes up the whole hallway. You look up as he towers over you, his face is unreadable, he lifts a hand, brushing his fingertips across your cheek. It sends electricity skittering across your skin, your breath catches in your throat.

Over the past 3 months you have tried to forget about the man whose brown eyes haunted your dreams. Whose touch caused your mind to go blank. Like someone wiping a harddrive. But there was no forgetting, not anymore. He was here in front of you, sure, you had come to ask Soap if he knew him. But you hadn't expected to run into him tonight. You still had no idea what you were going to say to him. How do you justify just leaving his house at 3am?

“You could've said goodbye, you know… You didn't have to sneak out and call an Uber at 3am..” Simon whispers, and guilt slams into you. He knew you left. He wasn't asleep like you thought…

“I-I..” you stumble over your words, unsure what to say. There wasn't anything you could say really. You knew you should’ve just waited, dealt with the awkward small talk. Maybe even exchange numbers you would never plan on using. But nope.

Instead you fled. Just like you fled after your sister's funeral.

At least you were consistent. 

“I’m not upset, I understand.” Simon adds after a moment, his hands shoved deep in his pockets of his hoodie. 

“Simon.. I.. I’m sorry.. I’ve been going through a lot. And i didnt .. I couldn't face you after that. Not, not that you did anything wrong. Because you didn't! I mean you were great. I just,” You run a hand through your hair. “God, this is not how I wanted this to go.” 

“Breathe. Love, breathe.” Simons hands cup your face and you freeze. “It’s okay, like I said I'm not upset with you,” he lets his hands drop, and you nod. 

“I didn't know you knew Soap,” He muses, leaning against the wall. You shuffle your feet, taking a deep breath.

“Yeah… I met him the same night I met you… You know him too, yeah?” 

“Soap, Gaz, Price and I all serve together,” Simon rubs the back of his neck with his hand, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Oh! I don't know how I didn't pick up that you were military,” You bite your lip looking down at his black boots. 

“We didn't exactly get to know each other very much that night..” Simon says, and a small blush creeps up your cheeks at the mention of your night together. “So what brings you here tonight?” Simon asks.

The familiar feeling of nausea swirls in your stomach again, you clench your fists, nails biting into your palm. Something you have come to do a lot over the past few months. “I came here to ask about you, actually. I needed to talk to you..” You whisper, and Simon's brows furrow.

“Well you found me.. What did you need to talk about?” He asks, as you chew your bottom lip. Anxiety creeps into your chest, wrapping itself around your lungs like an icy hand. The air rushes from your lungs, your eyes burning with tears.

 How the hell could you turn this man's life upside down?

“Hey, hey,” Simon whispers, his large hands clasp your shoulders steadying you. The world feels a million miles away, like you were floating out in space untethered. Everything sounds muffled, and the lights are suddenly too bright in the hallway. You raise your shaky hands, running them through your hair. A large hand guides you down the hall a little until the bitter cold air of winter in London hits you. You gasp, your lungs filling with the cold air, goosebumps break out along your heated skin. 

The world slowly comes back into focus, soft murmuring in your ear as large arms wrap around your middle holding you against a solid chest. “Breathe, you’re alright, you’re okay… Just breathe, Love.” Simon murmurs into your ear. Tears fall from your eyes, trails of hot tears stream down your cold cheeks. 

“I’m sorry I left that night…” you gasp in between sobs, “and i am so sorry im going to say this…” You whisper the last part. At first you aren't sure Simon heard you but after a moment he turns you around. His arms are still around you as he looks down at you, your teeth starting to chatter from emotion and the wind.

“Whatever you have to say can't be that bad, love. Did you find out you had some like STI or something? Do I need to get tested?” He asks, his brown eyes searching your tear stained face. His hands moving up and down your body in an attempt to warm you up and comfort you at the same time.

You shake your head, if only an STI was the least of your problems. “N-no, i didn't give you anything like that…” you choke out.

Simon watches you as you stand face to face with him in the same alley you met him in 3 months ago. Although this time you’re different, instead of the woman who was caught in her own head. Who was running from demons he couldn't see, trying her best to show the world it couldn't break her. Instead standing in front of him was a woman who was scared, who looked so lost in the world, like she was barely hanging on. He studies you, even as you stand in front of him crying, your entire body shaking. You were still beautiful, and he would be lying if he said he didn't think about you. 

You had haunted him every moment since he heard you leave the apartment. When he heard the door click shut it took everything in him not to follow you out. But he didn’t, he laid there staring up at the ceiling until almost 5, before he got up and started making himself some tea. It was then he noticed the note you left your swirling handwriting on the scarp paper wishing him well. He was saddened to see you hadn’t left a way to contact you, but part of him understood. He had offered you a chance to get out of your head for a while. He hadn’t asked you on a date. He DIDN'T date. 

The onslaught of disappointment was tough for him to swallow. Simon was never upset when a woman he brought to bed left with no goodbye, and a hasty note. Simon preferred it that way, it was better if the one night stands didn’t stick around but for some reason Simon couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how your curves felt beneath his palms. The silky smooth expanse of your skin. The way your moans stirred something deep in him, or the way your eyes told him more than you ever would. 

Now as he looked down at you, standing in the darkened alley way. He knew whatever you wanted to say was about to bring his world crashing down. But instead of the overwhelming feeling to flee, that he normally had when confronting emotional issues like this. Simon wanted to hold you close and tell you that it was okay, that whatever it was you could face it and make it out the other side. During his years of doing interrogations and studying people he had learnt the signs of when someone was teetering on the edge. It was clear in your face and body language that you were one gentle gust of wind from toppling over. Crumbling into pieces he wasn’t sure anyone could put back together.

“What is it then Sweetheart? I’ll help you figure it out, whatever it is.” He whispers, pulling you closer to him, his body heat seeping into you, as the wind blows. You sniffle, your shaking hands coming up to swipe at the tears under your eyes. You take one last breath, eyes closed as you brace yourself.

“I’m pregnant.” 

It’s like the world stopped spinning.

Time was suddenly suspended, as you pried your eyes open to look at Simon. His brown eyes were guarded. His brows pulled together, as his hands stopped their motions for a fraction of a second. Your lungs burned from holding your breath, your throat tight. Every muscle in your body was tense, as you waited for him to say something. Do something. You needed some sort of reaction from him. Yelling, screaming, swearing, anything was better than the earth shattering silence that took place after you muttered the two words you hadn’t yet said out loud since you found out.

It wasn’t like you planned on getting pregnant by your one night stand. Hell. It was the LAST thing you wanted. You were always careful to get your birth control shot every 3 months. But with the chaos of the last few months, somewhere along the line you must’ve missed your last appointment. It wasn’t until you went into your appointment earlier today to get a shot that they had informed you they couldn’t administer it. That you were already pregnant.

“Okay.”

The word shocks you, and for a moment you aren’t sure you hear him right. You raise an eyebrow, as you look at Simon.

“Okay?” You ask.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll figure it out.” Simon states, his hands resuming their soothing motion up and down your sides.

“You’re not.. not going to freak out?” You whisper.

“There’s nothing to freak out about, this isn’t just going to go away. So we need to talk about our options, and we will. Just got standing in the back alley of a pub.”

“Okay…” you whisper, as Simon’s hands guide you towards the emergency exit door that he brought you through. The inside of the bar is louder than before, more people have shown up. Soap, Gaz and Price are all talking at the end of the bar. Your glass of water is filled and sitting on a napkin. They all look over when you two walk over.

“Ghost, Soap was just telling me that you and y/n know each other. Small world isn’t it?” Gaz smiles, his brown eyes looking between us. 

“We do,” Simon turns to Price, “I’m going to be bringing her home, I’ll see you at 0600 tomorrow, Captain.” 

There’s a look that passes between Price and Simon, but he just nods, then turns towards you. “I hope to see you again, dear, maybe next time we can all have a nice meal.” 

“Maybe,” you smile, after waving goodbye to Soap and Gaz, Simon leads you out to the street where the cars are parked. 

“Did you drive here?” He asks, looking down at you.

“No I took the bus,” you shove your hands into the pockets of your coat. It was still wet from where the guy spilt his drink, and you shivered.

“I’ll drive you home,” Simon takes your hand, pulling you towards his truck. He pulls open the passenger door and waits for you to get settled in the seat before shutting it. You run your hands together as Simon climbs into the driver's seat. He starts the truck, turning the heat on high.

“Where do you live?” He asks, as he turns on the headlights. 

“On Ashton street, the apartment complex there” from the corner of your eye you see Simon visibly stiffened, but he doesn’t say anything as he pulls away from the curb. The ride is mainly quiet, neither one of you having much to say. As you get closer to your apartment your anxiety starts to grow again. What if he tells you to get rid of it? 

Is that what you wanted? What if he decided he would rather give it up for adoption? Would he help you find a family? Maybe he would tell you he didn’t want anything to do with a baby? Could you deal with a baby? Bile burns in the back of your throat, and you try to swallow it back down. You weren’t about to throw up all over his nice truck. The grimy bathroom of a bar was one thing, but Simon’s leather interior of his car was not an option. Simon turns down a side street, there weren’t many streetlights on this stretch of the drive. You try to focus on the passing shadows but the rolling and twisting in you hug doesn’t let up.

“Can you pull over please?” You whisper, and Simon glances at you. Your hands bunched in the fabric of your coat, your eyes closed as you take deep breaths. Simon eases the car over, barely putting the car in park before you flung the door open and hop out. You move a few feet into the woods, your hands scraping against the tough bark of a tree, as you get sick. Bile burns your throat and nose, tears stream down your cheeks. 

Warm hands gather the hair from your face and hold it back. Holding your hair back with one hand the other rubs up and down your back. It takes several minutes of dry heaving for you to be able to stand up. A handkerchief is suddenly floating in front of you. You take it and wipe your mouth with it, shoving it into your pocket after.

“You okay?” Simon asks, as you take a deep breath.

“Yeah, I’m okay, sorry..” you mumble, as you turn back to the car and climb back in. Simon doesn’t say anything as he climbs in and continues to drive to your apartment. As he parks his car, he glances around, his eyes resting on the boarded up windows of the glass door.

“Everything okay?” You ask, noticing as he stares at the glass like he’s trying to get it to tell him what happened to it.

“Yeah. Sorry, let’s go inside,” he mumbles, climbing out and coming to your side. He pulls open your door and offers you a hand. You walk towards the building Simon’s entire body is tense as some residents barrel out of the door. They’re shouting and swearing as they stumble out, a lit cigarette dangling from their fingers. Simon pushes you behind him, as they pass, he watches as they head over to a parked car and continue arguing in front of it.

“They’ll stop arguing after a while. They do this often..” you mutter to Simon as you take his hand pulling him towards the door. He grunts and follows you up the three flights of stairs to your apartment. You hesitate, your hand on the knob as you take a deep breath. Entering was always the hardest part now, every time your hand touches the handle the images of your family break through the mental box you shoved them into. You let out the breath you were holding and pushed open the door. Flicking on the light switch next to the door. 

Your eyes falling on the empty couch against the far wall in the living room. Some of the tension leaves your shoulders as you stare at the threadbare fabric. You step further into the apartment allowing Simon to slip in behind you. He turns the locks on the door, and reaches down unlacing his boots. 

“I don't have much to offer.. Is water okay?” You ask as you shrug off your alcohol stained coat. The fabric is a sticky mess, the fabric ruined from the drink spilt on it at the bar. Tossing it onto the counter, you head over to the cabinet and take down two glasses. 

“Water is okay,”  Simon walks into your living room and takes a seat. He watches you fill the two glasses with water and you come and sit on the other side of the couch, handing him the glass. 

“When did you find out?” Simons asks, taking his face mask off and shoving it into his pocket and taking a sip of water. 

“This afternoon… I went in to get my birth control shot and they make you do a pregnancy test…” You pull your legs up to your chest, holding the glass of water in one hand. The other hand wraps around your shins keeping them pulled up to your chest.

“Did they tell you how far along you are?” He asks, “So we know what our options are, I mean.” 

“They said based on the blood work, 12 weeks. But I have to go in to get an ultrasound next week..” 

“Okay, so we don't have a lot of time to make a choice… have you thought about what you want to do?” Simon sets his glass down on the table next to the couch.

“I .. I don't know.. I was waiting to hear what you had to say before I made up my mind.” You mumble, your eyes trained on a spot of carpet that is fraying.

“If I'm being honest, I never wanted kids. They were never in my cards… I'm not saying I don't like them, kids are great, I just never pictured myself having any,,” he admits.

Your heart sinks.

Here we go, he's going to tell you to get rid of it, and tell you to delete his number, forget he exists and move on with your life. 

“But, with you, it feels right.. There's just something about you that I can't get out of my head and at the risk of sounding like a total barbarian. The thought of having you in my life until I die because of this baby fills me with excitement. I wanted to go after you when you snuck out of my apartment but I didn't want you to be uncomfortable. The night I spent with you was one of the best nights I've ever had. So if you would like to, I would love the chance to raise this baby with you. Even if it's as friends and nothing more. Because I know that you were put into my life for a reason, and I'm going to take any chance I can get to keep you around,” Simon finishes, his hand coming to rest on your ankle. 

You sit there for a few moments, mind reeling with everything he just said to you. He wanted to raise a baby with you? Just so he could get to know you? Did you really have that much of a profound effect on him? Would he still feel the same when he found out what had happened to you? Could you do this? I mean really do this?

Babies are huge commitments. They were for life; there was no backing out. But the way Simon was looking at you, like he would take on the world for you with barely knowing you. It made you feel like you could do it. As long as you didn't have to do it alone, well, at least not completely. You chew on your bottom lip for a few more minutes, the thoughts rolling around in your head as Simon's eyes trail around your apartment. 

“Okay…” you finally whisper and Simon's head whips towards you.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. I-i don't think i can get rid of it anyway… The thought makes me feel sick,” you confess and the tension in Simon's shoulders all but disappears. 

“Alright, we can figure this out. No pressure for us to be together, we can just start by becoming friends, and seeing where things go okay?” He smiles, and its a real genuine smile. Your heart stutters in your chest, and you can't help your own smile that spreads across your lips. 

“If we’re being honest here,” you sigh, wringing your hands together in your lap,”I couldn't stop thinking about you either… I mean, even before all… yeah.. You know.”

Simon's hand comes over to rest on the side of your face, and he leans forward pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I'm glad to hear that I wasn't the only one with lingering thoughts,” he chuckles.

Simon drops his hand and looks around your place once more, a furrow deep in his brow. He opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it, before he notices the time on the clock hanging on your wall. It was almost 10 and he needed to check over his gear before he shipped out in the morning. 

“I hate to do this… but I have to go,” his lips pulled down into a thin straight line.

“Oh right.. You told Price you would see him in the morning…”

“Yeah… Look, i can't tell you much, but i don't know how long i’ll be gone…” he looks around, and grabs the notebook you write your ideas for articles down in and scribbles on a spare piece. “This is my number, i won't promise i’ll respond while i'm away, but if anything happens, call this number 3 times in a row and you’ll get through to someone who can get a message to me okay? But that is only for emergencies, otherwise just text me and i’ll do my best to get back to you, alright?” He tears the paper out, coming to stand in front of you. He presses the paper into your hand. It crumples slightly as you close your hand around it.

“Okay,” you murmur, looking up at him from your spot on the couch. His fingers crush along your cheek as he brushes a strand of your hair back from your face. 

“Be safe, keep the door locked… i’ll be back soon and we’ll go do something fun and get to know each other.” Simon smiles, as he takes a few steps backwards towards the door. 

“I’ll hold you to it,” you smile, “Be safe out there.”

The only response is the soft click of the door.

Next: Part 4

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

Bonded Pair. - OCxGhost Backstory.

|| [Part Two ->] ||

pairing: COD OC!Victoria "Whiskey" Callahan x Simon "Ghost" Riley bonus: Moot!OC (Meabh "Pirate" O'Malley) x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish words: 2K~ cw: injury (nothing major or too explicit)

May 2020

“How long until the American comes?” Soap asks to Ghost’s right as the lieutenant is halfway through assembling their camp/nest for the foreseeable future.

“Laswell said he’d come before sundown.” Ghost muttered. 

“What do you think he’s going to be like?” Soap asked.

“I think you should start heading to your spot and setting up camp, instead of yapping. It’s gonna get dark soon. You don’t want to spend the night lying on a pile of sticks, do you?”

“Jeez, L.T., calm down.” The Scot quipped with a chuckle. “I have plenty of time!”

“You really don’t. Sun’s setting soon.” A voice called out from behind them, causing them both to turn sharply, already pawing at their guns. The southern american accent was the only reason they didn’t draw them or shoot at the source.

Whiskey stepped out from behind the treeline, setting her hands on her hips after slinging her rifle onto her shoulder. She was on the tall side for a woman, standing at 5ft8, and had broad shoulders and strong arms.  Her dark brown hair was tied back into the usual military-standard low bun, though a few loose strands of damp hair were glued to her forehead, and the lower half of her face was concealed by an Army green neck gaiter that was pulled up to her nose. 

Ghost wasn’t particularly keen on working with her. But at least she looked more capable than some of what he’d seen come from the US.

She wore the standard combat uniform he had grown used to seeing on the Americans: camouflage cargos trousers, jacket, and Kevlar with the American flag. To keep her warm from the unforgivingly rainy and cold weather, she wore a brown fleece jacket under her camo, which was zipped up all the way, covering her neck and the bottom of her gaiter. She had on tan fingerless gloves, tan combat boots, and a camo backpack over her shoulders, from which hung her helmet. 

“You’re the Navy SEAL?” Ghost asked in greeting as he approached her.

“That’d be me.” Whiskey replied evenly as she reached forward to shake hands with Ghost. 

“I’m Ghost, this is Soap.” He explained as they shook hands, eyes locked into a strong, unyielding eye contact. 

“Whiskey.” She replied as she let go of his hand and turned to shake Soap’s. Only for her eyebrows to knit together and then set dangerously low, darkening her hazel-brown eyes. “You.” She said as she pulled her hand back before he could shake it.

“Me?” Soap asked, his own eyebrows rising up to his hairline.

“You’re screwing my best friend!” Whiskey said bluntly as she pointed at him.

“Am no! I have a girlfriend!” Soap said while shaking his head, entirely convinced of 

“Yeah, my best friend!” Whiskey replied with a nod.

“No? My girlfriend’s name is Meabh and her best friend is Victoria.”

“Right. Victoria, who’s American and part of the SEALs?” 

“Oh shit!” Soap said in surprise as he looked at her. “You’re her?”

“Yeah I am. And you’re the piece of crap that-” Whiskey stopped herself, biting her tongue and pointing a finger at him.

“Woah, you’re nothing like Meabh said you would be.” Soap said with a dropped jaw. “What’s with the aggression? I dinnae do nothing to ye-”

“You did enough.” Whiskey hissed at him through gritted teeth, her hand shaking as she wagged her finger in his face. She seemed so pissed off at Soap, Ghost couldn’t help but wonder what the sergeant did.

Ghost was watching the whole scene go down, the entire situation sending some alarm bells ringing in his head, not because of the animosity… But because Whiskey was loud and feisty. And he already had Soap to deal with, and now there was another one?

He didn’t even want to imagine what comms would look like between them, how they’d talk his ear off.

Whiskey turned away with a huff, shaking her head. “I’m gonna go set up shop. I suggest you do the same.” She told the lads.

“Wait!” Soap said as he stepped forward toward her. “What’d I do? Why do you hate me so much?”

Whiskey looked back over her shoulder, eyes locking onto Soap’s. Then, she looked up at Ghost and, for a moment, Simon swore he was seeing right into her soul and her right into his. Whatever reason she was pissed at Soap, it was bad, and he could tell.

“Just get to work and don’t piss me off. Gonna have to deal with you for three weeks…” Whiskey grumbled about Soap as she turned and walked off, heading downrange to her own overwatch coordinates.

Soap exchanged a glance with Ghost as she walked off, before softly murmuring. “What was that about?”

Ghost shook his head. “Fuck if I know. Just do as she said and get to your campsite.”

“Yeah…” Soap trailed off and waved a goodbye at Ghost before he headed out to his camp, following after Whiskey’s trail.

-

Night 1: 2000 hours

“I was thinking we take turns sleeping. 24 hours in a day, we could trade and do 4 hour straight of sleep.” Ghost suggested over the radio as he snacked on a protein bar.

“Copy that, L.T.” Soap replied, his voice chewed up, a clear sign that he was also eating.

“Sounds good to me.” Whiskey replied from her camp, her voice clipped and curt, even through the radio. “You can take first shift, Ghost.”

“I’d rather take last.” Ghost replied.

“Alright. Soap. Take first shift.” She demanded.

“Nae? I wanna stay up and speak to you about something.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Victoria, c’mon, I don’t even know what I did.”

“It’s ‘Whiskey’, Soap. I still outrank you and we’re still at work. Haven’t given you permission to call me by my name.” Her voice was so blunt and strong, Ghost found himself almost impressed.

“I’m sorry.” Soap ended up saying with a sigh. 

“Save your sorries. Go to sleep.” She demanded. 

“Aye, ma’am.”

It took a good half an hour or so, but soon, Johnny’s PTT was turned off, so, Ghost spoke up.

“Switch to 3, Whiskey.”

“Copy that.”

After switching frequencies, he finally spoke. “What’d he do?”

“Something he shouldn’t.”

“Cheated on your friend?”

“No. He’s stupidly devoted to her. At least from what she says.”

“Sounds about right. He talks about her a lot. Tires me.”

“Bet it does.”

“Then what?”

“Can’t talk about it.”

“Hm…” Ghost murmured. “Okay.”

-

Ghost was supposed to be sleeping. He really was. But with a new team member alongside them, he knew he wouldn’t be able to. 

Besides, he wouldn’t risk missing the shitshow of the other two bickering.

“So, how long have you and Meabh known each other?” 

“Longer than she’s known you.”

-

“How’d you meet?”

“On a ship.”

“Her ship?”

“No.”

-

“So how is it, being a Navy SEAL?”

“Fine.”

-

“So, how old are you?”

“Old enough.”

-

“Where are you from?”

“America.”

“Yeah, but which state? You’re obviously from the south.”

“None of your business.”

-

“You and Meabh ever work together?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“Classified.”

-

At one point, Ghost couldn’t help but start to smirk at the way the conversation was going. All throughout Days 1, 2 and 3 of their watch mission, she answered Johnny’s incessant questions with nothing but nonchalant dryness.

He could almost guess what answer she’d give and what tone she’d use whenever Johnny asked another question. 

While she had been sleeping, the Scot had confessed he had wracked his brain thinking of reasons why she didn’t like him and had come up short… And that he wanted to make friends with her, for his bird’s sake.

But he wasn't succeeding. She was cold and stubborn and curt with her answers, not giving him more than a few words at a time.

Even as the questions got more probe-y and personal… She gave him nothing. In a way, Ghost saw himself in her answers.

“What do you and Meabh usually do when you’re together?”

“Hang out.”

“Yeah, but what do you do? Go out for drinks? Go on holiday?”

“We hang out.”

-

“So what does Meabh tell you about me?”

“The usual.”

“Elaborate?”

“No.”

-

“How come Meabh has never shown me a picture of you?”

“I don't do pictures.”

-

“Why the mask?”

“To hide my face.”

-

It’s as the sun sets on Day 4 that she finally gets tired of playing nice:

“You know, Meabh described you as really cheerful and funny… But I don't see it.”

“Meabh sees the best in people. Don’t take it personal. She lies about you a lot too.”

“I’m not that bad, you know? I don’t know what your problem is with me but… I’m just trying to befriend ye.” Ghost can pick up on Soap’s annoyance in his tone of voice.

“I wish you wouldn’t.” Whiskey replied.

There’s a long, long moment of silence before Johnny tries again.

“How often do you and Meabh talk?”

“Often enough.”

“I miss her a lot when I’m on missions… Can’t talk to her steadily…” Soap admits, this time a lot more sincere. “Do you miss her too?

“No.” She replies. 

“No? Do you not like her the same as she does you?’

“I do.” Whiskey tells him. “But I’ve got ways of communicating with her.” She announces. 

“How’s that? Sending a letter and waiting weeks for a reply? I’m not satisfied with just that. Need to hear her voice… and she doesn’t have signal out there in the ocean…”

There’s a sound from the radio, which Ghost can swear is a snort from Whiskey laughing. Then, she speaks again.

“Can you see my camp from where you are?”

“Yeah?”

“Alright well, take a look at this.” 

Out of curiosity, Ghost decides to turn his binoculars toward Whiskey’s nest too, and adjust the focus until she comes into view.

“It’s a real shame that you can’t talk with your girlfriend.” Whiskey said while waving a black radiotelephone in the air for them to see. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

Ghost smirks at the sound of her sarcasm, shaking his head, already anticipating the dramatics that Soap would engage in.

“Wait, you’ve got a phone to talk to Meabh WITH?!” Soap’s voice is so loud and high-pitched one would think he just suffered the greatest betrayal.

“Oh yeah, I’ve been speaking pretty consistently with her the past 4 days.”

“No?!”

“Oh yes.”

“That’s it! I’m going down there, I want to talk to Meabh!”

“No you’re not, don’t you desert your post!”

“I’m not deserting! I’m going to you!”

Ghost has to turn off his PTT so he can laugh without them noticing. Soap had been talking about Meabh for forever, talking the ear off anyone who’d listen, raving about the girl and how much he loves her. At this point Simon feels he himself is dating her with how much he knows about her… 

And now, here was her best friend, showing him just how much higher she ‘ranks’ in the girl’s consideration.

Turning his binoculars toward Soap’s nest, he watched the younger sergeant slip out and, under the shadows of the rapidly approaching night, rush out behind the treeline, dashing toward Whiskey’s nest about 2 kilometers out.

“He’s really going over.” Ghost murmured into the PTT.

“I know he is. Meabh is laughing over it.”

“YOU’RE TALKING WITH HER RIGHT NOW?!” Soap shrieked into his own PTT. “Tell her to hold on!!! I want to hear her voice!!!!”

Ridiculous, Ghost thought as he heard Soap’s desperation. How ridiculous it was to be so obsessed with a woman. Girlfriend or not.

By the time he reached Whiskey’s station, after a few minutes, Ghost got to watch a flurry of limbs happening.

And, after a moment, Whiskey came back onto the PTT. “Ghost contact Laswell, Soap needs to be sent on medical.”

“What happened?”

“He tried to get the radiophone off me, so I broke a couple of his fingers… And his wrist. And kicked him in the balls.”

Ghost pressed his lips together to stifle a smile. He shouldn’t be as amused as he is… But God, is the situation hilarious.

“Rog.”

[mykneeshurt]

hi!! happy new year!! 💗

I love ur writing, and I was thinking to drop this request;

so may request some hc’s of cod task force 141 (+ alejandro, könig, graves and rudy) :))

feel free to skip this if youre busy, just wondering, happy new year :)

Sorry this one took me some time, I got too in my head about it. It was so hard to not be bitchy to Graves lmfao, Soap is my favourite enjoy! SFW. Let me know if you want NSFW ones

Price 🥃

He supports Liverpool FC, no I won’t hear any different

His favourite non-alcoholic drink is ‘builders tea’

Glenfiddich 18 is his Whisky of choice

Favourite colour is khaki green

Is the father figure of the group, strong, reliable, approachable (everything my dad wasn’t lmfao, I still love him)

He wears a plain t-shirt pyjamas to bed, sleeps on his side, one arm under his head, absolutely snores

His favourite breed of dog is a Collie, or any working dog he can walk for miles for in the country side

He absolutely loves Bargain Hunt on TV

His favourite smell is fresh gingerbread

He’d make an excellent grandfather tbh

Soap 🧼

Despite being Scottish he supports Blackburn FC, an underdog (I refuse to comment on the Celtic vs Rangers, far too much history there. And I’m Welsh, it ent for me to say haah)

He absolutely loves winding the boys up about being English

His text tone is SCOTLAND FOREVVAAAA *aggressive bagpipes*

Soap 100% sleeps in the buff

His favourite dog would be a Labrador, nice active family friendly dog

He’s a chatterbox but a good listener when he needs to be, will often give some surprisingly good advice

He’s an iPhone wanker

Absolutely a mummy’s boy, would do anything for her - he’d love to pay off her mortgage for her

His favourite smell is the cheesy paws of his dog for real

He’s not a morning person, he loves a lie in when he can

Ghost 💀

Ghost supports Manchester City, he just gives me those vibes ok?

His favourite weather is rain/storms

When he’s home from a mission he’s a bath guy, he showers all the time on base, so when he’s home it’s hot ass bath with an audio book and his bourbon

He has two cats that his neighbour looks after when he’s away, two British blue shorthairs. Called Foxtrot and Whiskey

He also loves rabbits

He loves helping beginners at the gym

His favourite tv show is The Simpsons, something easy and colourful to watch to distract him from what he’s seen

He smells like Dior Suvage (anything musky and heavy)

He’s ambidextrous

He loves a cooked dinner, beef, roast potatoes, all the veg, stuffing and all the Yorkshire puddings

He’s got his tongue pierced, I’ve seen the fan art. You can’t tell me other wise.

Gaz 🇬🇧

He gives me Arsenal vibes, so he supports them

But also supports Chicago Bears in American Football

He’s gentle, reserved so he’d have a rat as a pet, highly intelligent

Fish and chips with curry sauce is his favourite meal, a proper British geeza

He smells fresh, think a bright spring day, fresh linen and cut grass

He loves the sunshine

He’s a keen gardener, grows his own herbs and vegetables

His house is spotless, minimalist, but has a huge book collection

He loves caramel lattes despite the banter from the boys, he has a sweet tooth

Loves meeting the boys down the pub on a Sunday for a carvery

Alejandro 🌹

He’s an excellent cook, his favourite hobby when not on a mission is trying out new recipes for Los Vaqueros

This man sleeps in silk sheets, tell me he doesn’t?

He’s fiercely loyal his country, he loves Mexico and is passionate about it through and through

He’s got a great sense of humour, enjoys making people laugh

He runs marathons for charity in his spare time

His favourite subject in school was history

If you’re sad this man gives the best hugs, he’ll make you a strong ass coffee and give one hell of a pep talk

His favourite smell is fresh cocoa beans, always stealing the nibs to eat

Him and Rudy have film nights with their families when they’re home

He’s 100% a girl dad, teaches her how to shoot with nerf guns in the garden

Rudy ❤️

He has a German Vizsla called Pollito, because her legs look like chicken drumsticks

He 100% has an android phone

He’s an armature photographer in his spare time, he loves nature

He and Alejandro have personalised ringtones for each other

His favourite food is Seafood paella

He owns a small farm, sells the produce to the local area, he loves animals

He once won a poetry competition

His favourite colour is orange

Sorry but he wears lynx Africa (I like it sue me)

He likes to game in his spare time, anything from farm simulator to RPGs

König 👑

He loves drawing, anything creative, he’ll draw/paint the Austrian countryside to de-stress

He grew up on a small farm in the Austrian mountains, he has a very close family

He doesn’t like large crowds, worried people stare at him because of his height, feels claustrophobic sometimes

He bites his nails when his hands aren’t busy or covered by gloves

He’s a cat guy 100%

He’s left handed, 100% a lefty but holds his gun right handed (its a struggle, I’m left handed)

He’d like a family one day, he’s got a lot of love to give

He smells like leather, sandalwood and vanilla

He loves eating raw cookie dough, vanilla and chocolate chip

He holds the record for the hardest punch in his home town

Graves 🇺🇸

His favourite holiday is July 4th, he does a huge fireworks display whenever he’s home

His favourite food is Gumbo

He smells like Paco Rabane Invictus

He’s got 3 Dobermans, whom he loves with all his heart. Ben, Jacob and Molly

He has a white picket fence - obviously

He doesn’t have a good relationship with his father, daddy forced him into the army to gain approval

He sleeps in red plaid pyjamas and has matching slippers

He’s fluent in French, he learnt it to pick up girls

He loves hiking in his spare time, with his 3 dogs

He runs support groups for veterans on a Thursday a local library

[grizzersmamma]

Son of Zmei | Fae AU | Nikto x F!Reader | Part 2.

Overview: Nikto confronts Mr. Petrov & Reader gets a visitor who drops some new information.

A/N: Second part babyyyyy! I’m on a roll now. Shorter than the last part, but the next one should be a bit longer. Continuation of my little Nikto fic based on the Fae AU by @ghouljams​

Warnings: Murder, Arson.

Series Masterlist: Here

CoD Masterlist: Here

Prev Part | Next Part

The man kneeling at Nikto’s feet is quivering like a leaf in the breeze, head pressed to the floor in a deeply exaggerated bow. It does little to quell the simmering rage that burns just under his skin, leaving him to huff out a plume of smoke in his agitation. Clearly, this pathetic excuse for a human doesn’t understand what kind of situation he’s in.  

“Mighty Zmei, forgive me for failing you,” the irritating cretin pleads, “allow me to try again, I can do better!”

He can’t help the growl that rumbles out of him, one of his lips curling to show off his pointed canine. “You offered a life, willingly given, in exchange for your own,” he hisses, starting to circle the human, “you think I cannot take a human if I desire one?” Petrov jumps at his sharp tone, mouth opening and closing silently.  

“O-Of course not, I-”

“You think I am a fool? You would try to deceive me? To break your word by offering the life of another who has not agreed?” His words get louder with each passing syllable, sharp teeth now on full display in a horrifying snarl.  

“Never, All Powerful Zmei! I could never hope to trick someone so wise!” the coward grovels, stinking of fear.  

The black shepherd dog snaps it’s jaws at the man’s face and the raven, perched on one of the chairs, caws angrily. The animals are growing restless at the clear disrespectful behaviour of the human, goading Nikto into action. “We have given you a chance to repay us, the deal is off.”  

It seems Petrov has some spine, for the man straightens, “merciful Zmei, to throw away the years of work I have dedicated to you, it would-it would be foolish!”

The heads of all three dark figures, man, bird and dog, all snap to glare at the human. “We are no fool!” their voices join together, speaking as one entity. Their bodies have begun to shift, twisted and drawing together, the lines between the three different creatures growing blurred. “We require your services no longer.”  

Minutes later, Nikto, the dog and the raven stand together in the street. They watch as the house belonging to Petrov burns steadily, flames casting dancing shadows across the nearby houses. The smoke does not bother them, nor the heat.  

Eventually, they turn to leave.  

The raven flies off ahead, while the man and dog walk. “Return to the female. She is oblivious, too fragile to be near so many Fae,” he spits the word in disgust.  

“Would such a weak creature be a suitable mate?” the dog replies, an exact copy of Nikto’s voice.  

He simply snorts, “we are strong enough for the two of us,” he says simply. The two part ways, Nikto to return to their home and the dog to return to his duty protecting their newest prize.  

When the sun rises, you wake with a large, furry body pressed up against you. It startles you, until you recall the events of yesterday. You had been exhausted after returning home, emotionally and physically drained from needing to walk so far back to your home after enduring such a terrifying encounter. The dog had refused to leave when you’d tried to shoo it away and, reluctantly, you decided to allow the canine into your home.  

It would be wrong for you to abandon the poor dog after it had followed you all the way back to your house. The man who owned him was a creep, but you couldn’t find it in you to leave an innocent dog out in the street where anything could happen to it.  

The dog in question wriggles about slightly to get comfortable, kicking you with big paws while whining loudly. Clearly, he was unhappy with you disturbing his rest, because he rolls over, putting his back to you with a rather dramatic sigh. It’s admittedly rather adorable, even if you don’t recall inviting the animal into your bed. The blanket you’d put on the floor for him is untouched, clearly not good enough for the massive ball of black fur.  

“You need to go home, buddy,” you mumble, stroking the animal’s silky fur. You know it’s not safe to have an unknown dog in your home at all, let alone sharing your bed, but you get the feeling you aren’t in any real danger.  

This thought is confirmed when the dog turns its head to try and nose at your fingers, offering them a small lick.  

When you finally gather the strength needed to get out of bed, the dog is more than happy to follow after you, hopping down from the mattress and onto the floor with a loud thump. It treks through the house, patiently watching while you complete your morning routine.  

You don’t have any dog food in the house, so you offer him some leftovers from your dinner a few nights ago after ensuring there isn’t anything poisonous to dogs in it. He doesn’t seem to mind the food, snapping it up at rapid speed.  

Not needing to be at work (and not planning on going back), you’re sitting comfortably on the living room couch, a warm drink in hand, while your canine companion takes up the rest of the couch. You had attempted to tell him not to climb on the cushions, not wanting dog hair shedding all over everything, but your words fell on deaf ears. So now, you sit on the furthermost cushion with the dog resting its huge head on your thigh.  

After a little bit of Googling on your phone, you believe you’ve figured out what breed the dog is. He’s huge and fluffy, clearly built for a cold climate and likely a livestock guardian dog of some kind. It took a while, but you managed to narrow it down to a Caucasian shepherd thanks to the abundance of pictures on Google Images.  

He’s sweet, but you’re not sure you’d be able to afford to feed such a huge dog, especially now you’re abandoning your job. It would be best for you to drop the dog off at the local vet. He’s probably microchipped, and if not, you’re sure they’ll be able to track the owner down. Such a huge dog is probably fairly memorable to someone who will know how to find his owner.  

You’re startled from your peaceful morning by a knocking at your door.  

The dog leaps to his feet, scampering to the front door with a snarl on his face. He starts barking, pacing back and forth. You’re a little anxious to try and get between the dog and the door, but he thankfully seems to back off once you draw close.  

When you pull the door open, you’re met by a police officer. “Good morning, miss,” the man seems anxious, glancing warily at the massive dog growling at him from behind you.  

“Hi,” you greet slowly, unsure, “is there something I can help you with?”

After confirming your identity, the man sighs softly, offering you a sympathetic smile, “I’m very sorry, but I’m here to inform you that your employer, Mister Petrov unfortunately passed away last night.” You blink at that, swallowing nervously, but the man must not notice, for he continues, “there was a fire at his apartment block.”  

“Oh... that’s horrible...” you’re not sure how to respond to that, stunned.  

Were you responsible for what happened? Was the strange, masked man, Nikto, responsible? A nervous sweat breaks out across your forehead.  

“A lawyer will be around shortly to discuss the assets afforded to you.”

“The assets?” you asks.  

“Ah, yes, it appears Mister Petrov left you some of his assets in his will, miss,” the officer smiles, oblivious to your internal battle. He offers you a brief farewell that you numbly return before leaving you once more to your own devices.  

The dog offers you a bark, nudging at your side when you continue to stare after the officer’s retreating form, snapping you out of your stupor. With a deep sigh, you step back into your home and close the door. You gently lean your head against the door, taking a moment to collect yourself.  

When you turn around, the dog is staring at you intensely.  

“What?” you ask him with a snort, as though he could actually respond to you.  

“You are a strange human,” the dog says.  

You faint on the spot.  

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Thank you so much for getting me into Ghosts! I spent the entire weekend playing the campaign and I just finished it last night!! (Tears were shed multiple times) The campaign was so fun and as my first COD game, it was pretty easy too and I feel like I can take on the newer MW games now because I was really overwhelmed with the FPS aspect of it at first (I usually play third person perspective games). I made notes of my thoughts throughout the game and I decided to share them below since you got me into this whole thing (I apologize in advance.) But seriously, thank you so much!!!

Anyways, here are my random thoughts while playing Ghosts (they were in order and then they kinda just went as I remembered stuff as I kept playing):

-young Hesh is so pretty. Like holy shit. But also they’re babies in the first scene (Logan is 16 in the first scene and 25 at the start of the campaign)

-space mission made me cry.

-Hesh is such a good brother.

-Riley is amazing!!! So cute!! Him in the tank is everything to me! Also, yay that I get to play him.

-Hesh and Elias narrating (ahhh)

-I would like to formally apologize for all the times I accidentally kill the characters. I swear it is not my intention, I just suck at video games. I play for the story, not the ranks. But still, I’m sorry.

-Ajax is so funny (why’d they have to kill him so fast?)

-Keegan is so fucking hot and for what reason?! Like what’s the reason?? I love him!

-Logan petting Riley when they got into the car is the cutest fucking thing ever! And Riley wining and pawing at the door is so fucking cute!

-Merrick needs to chill a bit. Like I get it, but chill, my dude. (Still love him though)

-I know Rorke is bad and all but I kinda feel bad for the man. Like I get why Elias let him go and I agree with him but I still feel bad.

-KEEGAN!!!!

-HESH!!!!

-I love how protective Hesh is over his brother and dad.

-was I supposed to let the city flood or was that an accident?

-Also, how do you stab underwater? (Apparently it’s the same as shoot)

-I’m missing Riley so much right now. Please bring him back!!!

-the fireworks and Keegan are so pretty!!

-I was sobbing when Elias died! Like why? And his last words to Logan made me sob harder! That whole thing.

-back in Elias’ flashback mission, I accidentally got Rorke killed. I kinda wish it worked because then this all could have been avoided.

-I was so panicked when Keegan was gone. I thought we wouldn’t see him again.

-Hesh is so freaking protective and I love him so much! He cares so much about Riley and Logan and their dad!

-poor Riley. I was panicking so much when he got hurt. And his whining made me so worried and sad. I literally would not put him down (even though I was supposed to to help the others) (I did put him down a few times to shoot a couple of people but I was mainly just holding him and panicking)

-Logan getting the mask!!!!!

-why does Riley have to go with Merrick? Can’t he stay with us please?

-I admit, I spent way too much time on missions just staring at Keegan while he did things.

-the whole underwater mission was so fun (and stressful) but Keegan checking on Logan after the explosion was so cute!

-I got eaten by a shark. Wtf

-Keegan’s voice.

-so no more Keegan??? Awww :(

-I fucking shot him in the chest! How the fuck is he alive?!

-poor baby Logan! Please save him.

-poor Hesh. Baby deserves better.

-the final scene was so pretty and precious. Before Rorke.

-Rorke saying “there ain’t gonna be no more ghosts” made me think of Ghostbusters and now I can’t get it out of my head.

-who the fuck decided not to have another game for Ghosts. Like wtf. I need to know what happens to Logan. Like are they gonna save him in time or is he gonna turn on them.

-umm, I’m scared. What was the final scene after the credits all about??! Send help immediately!!! Somebody save him please!!!

AHHHH, Anna, this is literally beautiful and I love it. I'm so glad you enjoyed it!!! You're totally welcome! FPS's also overwhelm me sometimes too tbh, definitely with newer games because the graphics/controls are so well done all the whipping around makes me nauseous lmao. The older CoD games I find a lot more forgiving in that aspect.

Anyways, it should be recorded how many hours I spent just staring into Keegan & Hesh's eyes during the campaign-who decided to make all of them so pretty? They need a raise immediately. Absolutely losing my mind over the narrations from Hesh as well, like my precious man, you can whisper in my ear like that any day.

No, but literally I hate that they never made a sequel for the absolute jaw-dropping cliffhanger that was dropped like a brick on our heads. Like? My baby Logan? My soft boy? (Hesh screaming his name makes me sob every time, I'm not even joking - and them reaching for each other AAIUEBRGAIWABG I CAN'T TAKE IT).

The end credit scene!!! Absolutely vile-I'm screaming, crying, vomiting, even thinking about it. Like even imagining Logan becoming like Rorke after going through the same type of torture as he did makes me wail.

In my head Hesh and Logan are taking Riley for morning jogs because they deserve happiness dammit!!! They're my boys!!!

[dollygirl808]

A Helping Paw Masterlist

Navigation Masterlist

Obsessive! Werewolf/Weredog 141(+extra) x Chubby! OC Freya

Freya was just trying to have a nice, relaxing getaway vacation with her boyfriend to her old childhood home, to get away from the loud, crowded city, when a big, kind of obsessive dog quite literally forced his way onto her lap and into her life. All of a sudden, there's a second dog. Then another, and another, until suddenly she found herself with a whole pack of dogs! Little does she know, they're all werewolves, not real dogs, and they're all a little (lot) in love with her.

Of course, inspired by the lovely @charliemwrites and their Woof Woof Johhny series when I first started writing this. I have also shamelessly been influenced by other stories (even my own) with more obsessive/yandere vibes. I am a greedy, greedy little reverse harem poly 141 lover so I couldn't help myself.

(Soap, Gaz, Ghost, John, Nikolai, König, maybe Alejandro and Rudy. Maybe more)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5 - wip

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

Imagine meeting retired!Price on a group trip to Japan.

Inspired by my own upcoming trip.

CoD ML

At first you don’t know you’re part of the same group. For all you know and care, you’re simply two strangers seated next to each other on the plane to Osaka.

Few words are shared between you during the flight. However, it’s anything but awkward because the tall stranger with enchanting blue eyes shows himself quite the gentleman minutes after your shallow acquaintance.

John stands up from his seat as soon as you point out yours is by the window and blocks the pathway with his imposing frame. “Sorry,” you mumble while trying to settle in as fast as you can, self-conscious about the others waiting to get to their seat.

“Take your time, miss. I’ll wait.” There’s a silent warning in his words to the others behind him, daring them to defy him or show annoyance.

“Want me to pop that in the cubbie?” he asks when he sees you struggle with where to put your jacket.

“No. Thank you, I mean, but-“

He extends a hand, which oddly reminds you of a bear’s paw. “Don’t be silly.”

His fingers briefly brush yours when you hand him your jacket. Perhaps to calm you, to assure you he really doesn’t mind. Perhaps it’s just an accidental touch.

John’s travel outfit of choice is a pair of baggy cargo pants, army green jacket, and grey teddy fabric hoodie.

John reads most of the flight away, oblivious to how his glasses make you feel. Like, seriously, how do they make him even more distractingly handsome than he already is?!

As the hours pass by, slipping into the night, you decide to try and catch some shut eye. The stranger next to you has already accomplished your ultimate goal, slouched a little in his seat and vast asleep. He’s pulled his hood up, face half-hidden by the fabric, and crossed his arms. Such a lucky bastard.

He doesn’t mind you lean on him after falling asleep yourself after the necessary struggles. In fact, unbeknownst to you, John manoeuvred your head to rest on his shoulder. He even considered draping his jacket over you, strangely affected by the way he briefly saw you shiver.

When one of the flight attendants kindly wakes John up for breakfast, it takes every ounce of self-control to not let instinct take over and kiss you on the temple to wake you up. However, where he manages to restrain himself, he looses control otherwise.

One hand on your arm, he tries to wake you. “Sweetheart, wake up. Breakfast’s ready.”

You only curl up more into him, clutching his arm like your favourite stuffed animal. So he uses a little force and gently shakes you. “C’mon, darling. Ya need to eat.”

It shouldn’t affect him this much. You shouldn’t have this effect on him. Yet, there’s a prideful warmth in his chest when your drowsy eyes fall on him, delighted he’s the first thing you see as you regain consciousness. But the tender sentiment mingles with the inklings of lust he hasn’t been able to shake off, manifest in the painful hardness in his pants. Fortunately, the blanket in his lap hides it well.

It’s only at Kansai Airport you each discover the other’s identity.

“Wait, you’re part of the group?” Gobsmacked, you gawk at him. The last thing you had expected was to be ‘stuck’ with the stranger for the coming two weeks. Such a cruel fate.

“So it seems,” the man mumbles before he takes your hand, raises it to his lips, and kisses your knuckles. “John Price, miss. At your service.”

Naturally assumes the role of your guardian. Of course he allows you your freedom to go and do your own thing. After all, he’s only a travel companion, a vague acquaintance, to you. Someone you only see when the whole group is together. And despite his natural confidence, John isn’t so sure you’d want him with you.

But the uncertainty proves unnecessary soon.

You go from holding his arm to holding his hand fairly quickly, standing closer to him every day. What also helps the growing craving for his presence is how he always sits next to you on the Shinkansen. During the journey, you share the food you bought before boarding (which you later buy together for a planned lunch on the train). Or you go over the photos you made or hidden gems you found in absence of the other.

Or you sit in silence, leaning on each other while reading.

You two more often than not go off by yourselves. The first few days you share stories over group dinner, but soon go adventuring together.

When you do, of course there are compromises when it comes to what to do and see. Fortunately, John is willing to pop into every Pokémon Center you come across. He knows nothing about the franchise, but your enthusiasm and the nostalgia you harbour for it melts his heart. And despite forgetting the creature’s names as soon as you mention them, he makes a mental note you seem to have a special affinity for something called an ‘Eevee’, an ‘Arcanine’, and two wolves. One carries a sword around, firmly wedged between its maws (Zacian). The other is decked out in shields (Zamazenta).

John finds it adorable how you snuggle with an Eevee plushie at one of the big Pokémon centers. However, he’s seen how much you’ve bought already. “That still gonna fit in your suitcase, sweetheart?”

“Surely with a bit of rearranging it will.”

He sighs, not believing what he’s about to do. Damn those feelings he can’t seem to suppress despite his best efforts. “I’ll pay. And if it doesn’t fit, there’ll be plenty space in my suitcase.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes,” he answers matter of fact, already counting the yen in his wallet. “How much is it?”

In return for his many kindnesses, you accompany him on the hunt for as many Eki stamps as possible. Whereas you expected a bit of a wild goose chase, John has actually meticulously planned out a route so you don’t haphazardly go to and fro across the country.

He insists on paying for any food and drink on the way. After all, he’s the one low-key dragging you along so he might as well make it beneficial to you.

Little does he know you don’t mind.

That his company is plenty reason to go with him.

John is a foodie and loves exploring the Japanese food scene with you. Bakeries, cafés, sushi restaurants, food stalls. You name it, he’s in.

Loves buying a bunch of food you can try in the privacy of either of your hotel rooms. He’ll brew a cup of tea to have with it and if the food doesn’t make too much of a mess, you snuggle up on the bed to enjoy it while watching a show or movie on Netflix (either on his laptop or your tablet).

Loves the occasional midnight ramen moment with you.

Though he mostly loves the mornings after your visits, which has ended yet again by sleeping in each other’s beds or futons (depending on where you’re staying). Every time the both of you tell yourselves you’ll leave, go back to your own room to hit the hay.

But what better way to wake up than in sturdy warm arms?

Have someone snuggled up to you instead of opening your eyes to an empty space?

Seems those Liverpool nights have finally come to an end.

Although John’s a bit hesitant, you manage to convince him to start an Instagram together to document the trip. It doesn’t take long for people to start commenting on the photos of you two together or react to John’s captions on the photos he posts of you. And those are a lot in comparison to those you post of him.

You make such a cute couple!

Are you two together?

Relationship goals!

Ugh, would love me a man like that.

Handsome!😍

But there are also the negative comments, which mostly concerns the age gap between you two. He deletes them as soon as he can, but you know he’s read them and that simple repeated act has made them eat away at him. It’s hard, dealing with online hate, and John honestly wonders how you do it. You’re flattered he gets angry, furious even, on your behalf when there’s any negativity aimed at you. However, you know it’s pointless, spending energy on the opinion of others. So whenever he’s on the verge of going ballistic, you put your hand on his arm and pluck his phone out of his bear paw. “Let’s put that away for now, hm?”

Words can’t describe how grateful John is whenever you do that. But they can explain his growing affection for you.

Perhaps, at long last, he’s falling in love.

One night, at about two in the morning, he shows up at the door of your hotel room. Your drowsiness fades into concern when you notice his sickly complexion, it’s paleness highlighted by the shimmer of sweat coating his skin. “Thank God you’re still alive.”

“John, you alright?” The dullness in his otherwise sparkling blue eyes is haunting, more worrisome as the dusk makes them look emptier.

“You can rely on me, okay?” His voice cracks. “That’s an order.”

“Okay.”

“So don’t go bloody wandering off by yourself. We’re a team. One unit.”

“Okay,” you repeat. “Come inside.”

He doesn’t budge as you lightly tug his arm. “It’s safe.”

“Right.”

He lets you lead him to the bed, where you plop him down. Judging by how light he feels, easy to guide, you can tell he’s not here entirely. “Stay here tonight.”

“I have to save him.”

“Who?”

“Soap. I- I have… have… had… couldn’t. I couldn’t fucking save him.”

“John, I’m sure you did what you could.” In spite of not knowing what he’s on about, you wrap him in your arms to console him. His fingers dig painfully into your skin, clinging to you for dear life. “I’m a failure. We should’ve made it out alive. The whole unit. Not just-“

“Shh, you did what you could.”

“I- I should’ve- What if I can’t do the same for you?”

“It’s alright. I’m here, alive. As are you.”

“Yeah… alive.” His breathing starts to even out. “With me. Together.”

You manoeuvre yourself beneath the sheets, careful to not escape his touch and thus take away his comfort. After a bit of a hassle, you end up with John snuggled up to you and your fingers in his hair. Finally you feel him relax and settle. Into the bed, your embrace.

Your presence.

His anchor.

Come morning, the tables have turned and now it’s you snuggled up to him and his warm sturdy arms wrapped around your body.

Neither of you thinks it strange. After all, you’ve grown accustomed to each other’s company. So it’s nothing but natural to feel his fingers caress your cheek. Perhaps to wake you, perhaps a gesture of tender admiration. Whatever the case, it’s a nice way to wake up.

“Hey,” John murmurs.

“Hey,” you repeat, equally as drowsy. “Sleep well?”

He rests his forehead against yours. “Thanks to you.”

“You snore, though.”

“Do I?”

“Like a grizzly bear.”

“Well, you ain’t wrong. Then again, I’m your beartleman.”

You groan. “No puns this early, please.”

“Sorry.” Tracing your features, he gathers the courage to start the conversation he loathes having. He is a capable man, a leader, level-headed and determined.

Most of the time.

Because he also knows he’s damaged goods. The fact he’s here in bed with you tells him he wasn’t lucid dreaming or, rather, hallucinating. He showed up at your door.

Holding out his broken pieces to you, wilfully ignorant of the fact you don’t know how to put them together.

“Y/N, about last night…”

“John, don’t apologise. It’s alright.”

“I was a bit much, wasn’t I?” He remarks, trying to play it off.

“Do you get those types of attacks often?”

“Not a lot. Thought I was over them, but apparently not.”

“Were you in the army?”

“I was. SAS. Captain Price.” A dark chuckle leaves his lips, full of the stories he won’t tell. Not yet. “Once upon a time.”

“Got dismissed?”

“Of my own volition. Officially I’m retired, earlier than I thought or would’ve liked.“

“But?”

“But there are only so many ghosts a man can allow himself to be haunted by. So much he can bear before he goes insane.”

But fortunately you are here now, to dispel the worst of his ghosts.

And he’ll dispel the yokai hiding around you.

[jellicle-chants]

A Slippery Situation

Inspired by @storyweaverofgondor's creative challenge!

"I am not boring! And I'll prove it!"

Tantomile marched away from Mistoffelees, her tail held high in indignation. The nerve of that cat! And she'd only come to him for advice on how to make the kittens less nervous around her, not some backhanded compliment about how 'mature' she was. But she'd show him. That much was certain.

As she walked back towards the main clearing of the junkyard, Tantomile looked around for anything or anyone who might aid her in making a practical joke. Jellylorum and Bastentia were sitting on top of the discarded oven, chatting idly as the former worked on a needlepoint pattern. Definitely not what she was looking for if she wanted to appeal to the kittens, although she knew the two queens could be much more mischievous than the younger cats might think.

All of a sudden, Tumblebrutus came bursting onto the scene, calling out for Pouncival and hopping around excitedly. Perfect. "Hey, Tumblebrutus! Do you have a second?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," the young tom replied, scratching behind his ears with one of his back paws. "What's up?"

"I want to pull a prank. Right now. Will you help me?"

He glanced around and behind himself, and she could feel he wasn't convinced of her plan, so she continued. "I thought the kittens might like me a little more if I did something funny, and I always laugh when Jerrie and Teazer do their practical jokes, so I thought it was a good idea. But maybe it isn't, I don't know." She was rambling now, badly. She must really be nervous.

"Oh! No, that makes sense. So... what do you want to do?"

"I don't know, that's the problem." She paused, then looked back at him. "What were you calling your brother for?"

He broke out into a wide grin. "I found this bottle of cod liver oil somebody dropped off at the junkyard. It's still pretty much full! It smells really weird, but it's really slippery, so I thought it could be fun to mess around with."

She smiled slyly, a plan forming in her mind. "Let's go get that bottle. I think I have an idea."

• • •

Tantomile tried not to wince as she dipped both front paws into the jar, the greasy substance inside immediately coating her fur. It was now or never, she knew, and they needed to work fast if they wanted to finish before somebody caught them. She wiped her paws on the tire like a paintbrush, and it went on smoothly. To someone who didn't know to look, it was basically invisible -- just the way she wanted it.

Tumblebrutus stuck his tongue out as he followed her lead, the strong odor of the oil hanging in the air around them. "Don't lick it," she warned him, dipping her own paws in again. "And try not to leave any dry spaces."

"Alright, alright," he said, trying to smear as much of the oil onto the tire as possible. "What made you want to do this, anyway?"

"Misto said I was 'mature for my age.'"

"Ouch. Fair enough."

They worked for a few more minutes, their conversation mostly consisting of Tantomile bargaining with Tumblebrutus to not grumble quite so loudly. Finally, when the whole tire glimmered with a slight sheen and the air stank so much of fish that she was sure it would persist for at least a week, she called it done. The two of them tucked the jar away and snuck up to a high spot where they could watch the chaos unfold.

"Right on cue!" Tumblebrutus whispered, pointing out the Rum Tum Tugger as he sauntered along below them. He turned to her, still wearing the same grin as before. "This was a great idea."

"Don't jinx it!"

The two watched as Tugger noticed the smell, wandering to the back of the clearing. Tantomile could feel her prank-mate's excitement as he stepped up towards the tire, reflected only by her own. "Hey, who's got fish-- whoa!" He slipped as he tried to walk across and landed back flat on the tire, groaning.

Tantomile let out a snort of laughter, and Tumblebrutus looked over at her again. They had barely locked eyes before they both started bursting out laughing, only stopping as she sensed a new presence approaching the tire.

Tumble let out a gasp as Munkustrap appeared from behind a corner and stood only a few feet away from disaster, looking confusedly down at Tugger. Both pranksters watched with bated breath as he took a step onto a particularly slick spot. Tugger only had enough time to shout "wait, no!" before the silver tom lost his footing and face-planted directly onto his brother.

Tantomile wasn't sure how she and Tumblebrutus didn't get found out immediately, with the howling laughter certainly emanating from their hiding spot. But when she had wiped the tears from her eyes and looked back down at the clearing, the two cats seemed to have no clue that the tire had been greased.

They had rolled into the dirt at some point, coating both of them in a dusty brown mat, a fact that seemed to upset Munkustrap nearly as much as his brother. She could feel them silently agree not to let anyone else know about what had just happened, and she grinned.

"They're not going to say anything."

"Nice. More pranking for us." He bumped her with his shoulder, and she beamed at him. This would definitely change Mistoffelees' mind. Maybe she'd even get to watch him slip himself. Wouldn't that be a moment to remember.

"What are you two doing up here?" A gruff voice sprang up from behind them, and they turned to see Asparagus, arms crossed. "I thought the tire smelled odd, so I tried following it, and here you are, absolutely reeking of fish oil."

Tantomile ducked her head. "We covered the tire in oil so everyone would slip on it. But we didn't want to hurt anyone!"

"We were just having fun..." Tumblebrutus went to lick his paw, then pulled it away, flinching at the taste. "Sorry, uncle Gus."

"A prank, eh? Well, did you think of a way to get people on the tire?"

"N-not really," Tantomile said, glancing over at Tumble confusedly.

"Well then, you've still got a lot to learn. Now, duck your heads down a moment."

They obliged, still not sure what was going on. "Skimbleshanks!" Gus called out, waving. "Jenny said she wanted to meet with you at the tire!" He waited a moment, then looked down at them and smiled. When they just stared back up at him in amazement, he sighed. "What are you doing? Turn back around and watch. This one will be priceless."

[lonetile]

Reimi. My CoD OC. Tw: SH scars

NAME: Hikari Reimi

CURRENT AGE: 22 Years

GENDER/PRONOUNS: Female (she/her)

APPEARANCE:

She is a thin, petite girl (150cm, 44kg) with cat ears, tail, feet, and eyes. Her skin is pale, and her cat features are brown with white markings. Her brown eyes have pupils like a cat's. Due to her paws, she is unable to wear shoes. She has 7 self-harm scars on her wrist as a permanent reminder of what she lost. There are other scars on her body from past operations.

INFORMATION:

Reimi doesn't have much physical strength, but her speed and agility made up for that. Her top speed clocked at 50 kmh. Her legs are the most muscular part of her. Her enhanced hearing and sense of smell made it easier to sense danger from a good distance, and her silent steps and skill at jumping through the trees made her the perfect assassin when needed.

Reimi suffered from extreme social anxiety. She struggles to communicate with others. She struggles making to form connections. It doesn't mean she doesn’t want to. She communicates usually through writing things down on a pocket notebook she carries.

There are only a few people she feels comfortable conversing with, but she will occasionally say small sentences when she needs to.

Whenever she was on the field, scouting, she'd give orders and information over the radio with a strong authoritative voice. When she's back on base, that side of her would vanish, and she returns to being quiet.

BACKSTORY:

Hikari Reimi grew up in a wealthy Japanese family in the Miyagi Prefecture, where they lived a minimalist lifestyle. She was born normal until the age of 7 when her senses started to change and her tail, ears started to appear, and her feet began to change into paws.

Due to her change, she became shy and agoraphobic, with social anxiety. In order to prevent her from becoming a shut-in, her parents took her to Akihabara in Tokyo, where they could pass off her differences as cosplay.

Her father liked buying anything she took even the smallest interest in. Reimi was always afraid that they'd run out of money and tried to convince her father not to. Going to Tokyo did help her open up a bit more, and she was always excited for the trips.

A few years later, when she was 13, her mother was killed in a hit and run, and Reimi's father became more protective of her, afraid of losing her too.

At the age of 17, her father died of brain cancer. Not knowing what to do, Reimi ended up moving to the US in hopes of getting away from the home that no longer felt like home. She tried to find something where her abilities would become of use. The military offered her a job, and soon, she became a proud intel officer and specialist for a special ops team.

Reimi's social anxiety was gone, and she was back to how she was used to be before the age of 7; outgoing and happy.

She was with the team for 2 years when she discovered that her captain was a double agent for the enemy. She watched as he proceeded to kill the people he once called his brothers. Reimi was saved when one of her squadmates pushed her down a cliff, leaving her injured and traumatized before she was forced to kill the person she had looked up to for 2 years.

Despite the trauma she went through, and her survivor's guilt, the government kept her in the military afraid that, if she were to get in the wrong hands, she'd be a danger due to her abilities.

She was quickly transferred to a new unit. However, she was different again. Her social anxiety was back, and she became selectively mute, suffering from survivor's guilt.

Despite her mental struggles, she was still an amazing officer. She often went on recon missions alone for days at a time, gathering intel on the enemy before returning and organizing what she found and handing it the higher-ups to present in debriefings. She is known for making many different plans, all with their own contingencies and back ups.

[mygreatchihuahuas]

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The best way to ensure your Chihuahua gets the correct nutrition is to make sure they are getting the right supplements daily. Multi-vitamin soft chews are a great way to give your dog the nutrients it needs on a daily basis. These chews can help improve your dog's skin and coat. Not only are they great for your dog, but they are also great for pregnant or lactating females and stud dogs. Learn more about best food for senior chihuahua, go here.

It is important to supply your dog with B vitamins, as they are vital for brain function and energy levels. Vitamin B complex is also important for the immune system and promotes healthy cell metabolism. Foods rich in vitamin B are whole grains, egg yolks, beef, and liver. Vitamin E is important for cell function and fat metabolism, and dogs lacking in this vitamin may be prone to muscle, eye, and reproductive problems.

Blueberries are a great addition to your dog's diet. They are rich in vitamins A, B, C, and fiber, which are important for the proper functioning of the digestive system and bowel movements. However, it is important to remember that your Chihuahua should not be given blueberries as a main meal, but instead as a reward. You should only give your dog purees or puree if they are hungry.

Zesty Paws Multivitamin Treats are a great choice for daily vitamin supplementation. These chewable soft chews are made with 20 different vitamins to support joint health and overall health. Zesty Paws are made with cod liver fish oil and contain vitamin E, glucosamine, chondroitin, and Vitamins A and C. These treats are made in the USA and contain no artificial flavors or preservatives.

When choosing a multivitamin supplement for your dog, it is important to check the label of the food you are feeding your pup. Check for the amount of vitamins and minerals in the food, and choose a combination that will meet your pet's nutritional needs. Vitamins and minerals are essential for a healthy body, and a diet with too many of them may lead to several health problems. When choosing a multivitamin supplement, consider your dog's age and breed. Take a look at this link https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chihuahua_(dog) for more information.

[sungsungie]

NCT Dream’s reaction to you coming home drunk — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

nct dream x gn reader !!

fluff // mentions of alcohol

Mark

one of your friends drove you home from a party, because you were obviously very intoxicated.

“thanks for the ride” you said as you sloppily closed the car door and walked to the front door of your apartment.

you got the key out of your pocket and unlocked the door.

as soon as you step foot in the house you start going bazerk, yelling things like “MARK LEEEE” and “HELP I NEED TO FEED THE FISH”.

mark looks out of the cracked door to you guys’ bedroom and laughs.

“the fish?? wait” his laughter starts to have undertones of slight confusion.

he walks out of the door and stands in front of you “y/n we don’t have fish!” he says, still finding this hilarious.

“ahh you are the fish mark!!” you say drowsily, starting to cry ??

this is why he told you not to drink anymore!!!

“wait wait don’t cry” mark quietly says now holding in his laughter.

he hugs you and afterwards takes you into you guys’ room to rest, as he could tell you needed it <3

Renjun

you open the door of your apartment, aggressively slamming the door behind you.

“woah woah woah calm down” renjun says after looking up from the couch, laughing.

he slowly walks towards you with suspicion on his face. “are you drunk?”

“whaaat nooo why would I be drunk you know I don’t drinkk~~~” you utter.

still giggling, he pats your head finding you very cute, even drunk.

such a simp

“okay cmon babe let’s go, you need sleep.”

“NOOO i’m not tired” you refuse, pulling away.

renjun gives you a warning look and gently grabs your hand back, kissing you on the cheek.

“yes you are. now c’mon.”

you manage to get out an “uaghh okay”

before getting pulled into your bedroom and tucked into bed, neatly and swiftly.

“sleep well. if you need anything i’ll be in the living room. okay? I love you baby.”

and with that, he kisses your forehead and gently closes the door.

Jeno

you come home, extremely loud and wild.

jeno honestly doesn’t have much of a reaction because, well yk jaemin loud asf so hes used to it😕

“HAYYYY JENOOO AYOOO”

he just looks at you and laughs, going alone with it. “AYOOO Y/N”

you both laugh and he pulls you into his lap on the couch.

“what are you watching?? telletubbies?”

he cackles and shakes his head “this is a drama not telletubies. are you drunk? you are acting crazy”

“honestly, yes I am.” you both die of laughter again and he wraps his arms around you.

“you could have invited me” he says, looking at you.

“IT WAS MY FRIENDS BIRTHDAY PARTY!!!” you yell, in a funny voice.

he giggles and puts his hands up “okay okayy sorry.”

you guys spend the rest of the night cuddling and talking on the couch.

Haechan

you come home to see him on his phone, calling someone.

“GET OFF OF THE PHONE IM HERE!!”

he jumps, looking at you in confusion “ARE YOU INSANE?”

you laugh and admit blatantly. “sorry, I’m drunk”

he looks at you with disappointment. “aghh i apologize, my s/o is crazy.” and hangs up the phone.

“HEY IM NOT CRAZY!!!” you say playfully slapping him in the arm.

“OW?? CMON YOU’RE GOING TO BED” he says, dragging you to your room.

he tucks you in and after looking down at you for a while, starts smiling.

“what” you say, drowsily.

he giggles and starts moving his hands through your hair. “you’re just so cute”

you smile and start to fall asleep.

“silly y/n” he says, watching you for a bit then laying down beside of you.

Jaemin

you walk in, not closing the door behind you.

“hm?” jaemin turns around from the kitchen, as he is making dinner.

“y/n? baby? you good? he asks as he walks away from the kitchen and closes the front door.

he goes into you guys’ shared room and is surprised to see you passed out on the bed.

“ahhh. she’s drank again.”

he gently squeezes your shoulder, making you wake up, angry and still drunk.

“ughh what do you want old man” you mutter out, laying your head back down.

jaemin gasps, putting his hand on his chest. “old man?” he starts laughing.

“okay well the old man wants to know if you still want dinner or not.”

you pry your face off of the comforter and look at him, annoyed. “no”

he laughs and pats your head “okay, have a nice sleep love.”

you lay your head back down and go to sleep instantly again.

“cutie”

Chenle

Chenle is playing with daegal in the living room when you suddenly burst through the door.

“daegal is she bonkers or what” he whispers to the dog.

“what did you just say?? is who bonkers??? I AM NOT BONKERS!!!” you say, angrily but also laughing.

“I didn’t say anyone was bonkers” he looks at you trying not to laugh.

“sure you didn’t commander lala!!”

chenle suddenly bursts out in laughter, saying “WHO IS COMMANDER LALA?”

you run to him and skittishly pretend like you’re going to beat him up, making him fall back.

“AHH NO NO WAIT WAIT I SWEAR I DIDNT MEAN IT WAIT”

you laugh and fall into his lap, looking up at him.

“did you know that-“

chenle looks down at you to see you have fallen asleep and cackles.

“I didnt know that woww” he says, caressing your face, smiling.

“daegal, give me a paw if y/n shouldnt drink anymore.”

Jisung

you come in the door and close it sneakily.

“y/n what are you doing” jisung looks at you and laughs, standing up and putting his phone in his pocket.

“AWW THERES MY JISUNGIE” you excitedly say and run up to him, squishing his cheeks.

“what?” he says laughing shyly.

you ruffle his hair. “you’re so cute awww”

“you’re crazy” he says smiling, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing the top of your head.

you follow him to you guys’ room and sit on the desk chair, putting on jisung’s headset.

he turns to you and laughs “you gonna play cod?”

“yes” you say confidently and he sits on the bed behind you to watch.

within the first 2 minutes you are killed, which makes your eyes start watering.

“aww that’s too ba- wait are you okay?” he says as he tries not to laugh and hugs you again.

“cmon how about we put you to sleep, okay?” he pulls your hand to the bed and lays beside of you.

“goodnight sung” you say and lay on his chest.

he grins. “goodnight y/n”.