#Bravo 0-6

[yumethefrostypanda]

Captain John Price

This mans shoulders AAaa! They sculpted him so well 🥹

[shadowbratt]

Mutual Friend

[patrollingboston]

Hiya! Could you write a fic where we have to share a bed with Price?

Much love ❤️

An awkward conversation // Price x reader fluff

guilty pleasure one bed trope, this is not meant to be realistic!

After completing gruelling week on a mission, You, Gaz, Soap and Price were headed back to the pickup location to take you all back to base. The conversations being shared were short and snappy due to everyone’s exhaustion. Gaz was fast asleep snoring like bear and it was driving you insane. Soap had earphones in as Captain Price drove along the long stretch of road ahead whilst you were directing him from the passenger seat.

A loud crackle buzzed through everyone’s radio; Gaz snapped awake as everyone focussed on the voice on the other end of the radio.

“Bravo 0-6?”

“Price, you there?”

“What is it Laswell?”

Price held down the button on his radio whilst his eyes remained focused on the road ahead. He drove with one hand on the steering wheel occasionally looking over at you. Everyone’s curiosity was peaked as the mission was over, why would Laswell need to contact them now?

“Nikolai has a problem with exfil, his helicopter has needed some uh, um emergency maintenance. We can’t fly you back to base until tomorrow morning, can you all find a motel nearby just to rest up for a night?”

“Oh, fucking hell- “

Gaz groaned, Soap joining him. You flopped your head back against the headrest in protest. Everyone just wanted to go home, sleep in their own beds, eat normal warm food and be alone.

“Is there no other option? I think we all just want to be back ASAP Laswell.”

“Fraid’ not, earliest we can get to you is 8am tomorrow.”

“Alright, we will sort something out.”

Price said taking his hand off the steering wheel for a second to rub his temples, you glanced over noticing how tired his eyes looked. Everyone’s did.

With that statement the radio cut off. Everyone’s eyes were on Price as he was magically going be able to solve the issue.

“Well, what’s the plan?”

Soap chimed in, peeking his head round from the back of the car.

“There’s a cheap motel not too far, look we aren’t going to be there long. It’s already late, it’s just to clean up and get some rest. I know it’s not ideal.”

“I’m sure we can survive one more night, at least it will be warm?”

You spoke, trying to lift the mood of your fellow soldiers only to be met by awkward silence.

Price tapped on his phone to get directions to the motel. He was right about needing to clean up. Everyone was in their gear, dirt and mud were splashed over everyone’s clothes and face.

“I miss real food.”

Gaz said, Soap nodded in agreement as he began bumbling on about a restaurant near his house.

10 minutes later the car pulled up into the carpark for the motel. There wasn’t much to say about it, it didn’t look too bad from the outside but in your current state of tiredness you would sleep in a bed made of cardboard.

“Gaz, Soap go get us rooms, we will unload the car.”

Price ordered, Gaz and Soap split off entering the reception as you and him began lugging in everyone’s duffel bags. It was quite sparse, a few potted plants and a strikingly red carpet that frankly was hurting your weary eyes.

“Cap? They only have 2 rooms.”

You placed the bag down you were carrying and peered over to soap who was stood speaking to the receptionist.

Price sighed so loudly you could hear it from across the room.

“Well, we can go two and two, or we can take a chance on the other motel, think it was about 20 minutes away.”

You stepped over the pile of bags to join the conversation.

“I don’t mind sharing, please I just want to shower and lie down.”

You said rubbing your eyes, smearing the warpaint from earlier.

“Who goes with who?”

You suddenly felt everyone’s gaze on you.

“You pick F/N you’re the only woman here.”

“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?”

You teased as you watched Gaz’s face drop.

“No that’s not what I meant, c’mon.”

You weighed the pros and cons of each person in your head, quickly ruling out soap for how often he liked to flirt with people, that could never end well. Gaz was an option? But you recently discovered he snores and you needed sleep. That only left Price, your captain. You didn’t mind him, in fact over time you had grown quite fond of him despite his grumpy attitude and hat collection.

“I’ll go with Price.”

Price’s eyes widened ever so subtly; it seemed like he was taken back you chose him. His face quickly returned back to normal but you still managed to see the change in it.

A few moments later you stood outside in the hallway shoulder to shoulder with price as he wrestled with the dodgy room key.

“Sonofa- got it.”

He said before cracking a little smile and barging the door open.

You stepped inside looking at the (one again bright red) carpet laden with cigarette burns, you shrugged the bags onto the floor before going into the rest of the room and standing beside price who looked to be in deep in thought. You followed his gaze to find it.

One bed.

One bed that looks like it was made of concrete, with white ruffled sheets and 2 sad pillows.

Your stomach sunk, you had read about this in books and seen it in films and now it was happening to you.

You gulped loudly, praying Price didn’t sense your hesitation.

“I’ll sleep on the floor- “

He said sharply, it caught you off guard. What do you do now? Do you object? Do you share the bed? Do you let him stay on the floor?

“No, I know you’re just as tired as me, I don’t care, please.”

You said gesturing to the bed. He turned around and gave you a kind smile before he sat on the end and started removing his boots.

“I’m going to hop in the shower.”

He nodded as you stepped into the backroom locking the door behind you. That shower might have been the most heavenly experience of your life. Washing away weeks build-up of dirt on yourself. The warm water flowed down your back; you could have stayed in there forever. You stepped out wrapping the white towel around yourself as you reached for your bag. You searched through it trying to find something you could comfortably sleep in. Most stuff in there needed a wash as it was covered in dirt or sweat. You cursed under your breathe as you unlocked the bathroom door and peeked your head out.

“Hey Price?”

He was sat on the bed with his arms folded across his chest, intently watching the little crappy tv.

“Mhm?”

He said his gaze finding you, you could have sworn his eyes faltered and fell up and down you. Pushing back down the blush creeping up your cheeks you responded.

“Do you have anything I could sleep in? My stuff is all uh in need of a wash.”

“Oh, um let me look.”

He hopped off the bed and bent over to rummage around in his backpack before throwing you a khaki green shirt.

“That work?”

“Cheers.”

You closed the bathroom door again before changing into the shirt. It hung below your knees like a nightgown. It was so comfy compared to the mountains of gear you had been wearing for the previous week. It smelt like him too, it was comforting.

You walked into the room; Price had changed now. He was wearing a tight-fitting grey shirt and some baggy shorts. You had never seen him this casual, it was weird but you also liked it however you couldn’t deny how good he looked in his gear too but you would never let anyone know you thought this.

You peered over at the clock.

1:23

Price was just beginning to pull back the duvet on the left side of the bed. Would it be awkward if you did the same? God, it felt like watching an awkwardly married couple get into bed. You both climbed into the bed, the space between you was almost amusing, it was clear you were both trying to avoid one another.

“Night F/N.”

He grumbled, shuffling around to get comfy.

“Night!”

You chirped back, your voice slightly breaking in doing so.

The both of you were so tired you fell straight asleep.

 You woke up to some movement beside you in the early hours of the morning. Your eyes fluttered trying to gather your surroundings only to find yourself wrapped in someone’s arms. Realizing whose arms, it was you were torn on what to do. You decided to stay still, letting yourself take in the warmth. You lay there comfortably, his breathe tickling the top of your head as you fell asleep trying not to think about the awkward conversation this would lead to next morning.

[b1rds3ye]

Radio Silence

The mission required you to separate from the rest of Task Force 141 but when the operation is compromised, all he can do is listen to the panic through the comms until everything goes silent.

Pairings: Captain John Price x GN!Reader, Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader Reader Aliases: Breeze (Callsign), Bravo 1-5 (Squad-Member Code) Genre: Angst (open-ended), Drama Warning: Descriptions of violence/crashes, blasphemy/religious references, (probably) inaccurate military terms Word Count: 3k (~1.5k each)

Captain John Price

The captain was not a superstitious man, but when you’re on the battlefield, you take all the good fortune you can get. With age he’s picked up a range of small habits and lucky paraphernalia to get him through the mission; an aged penny in his left breast pocket, a four leaf clover stored in another, he finds himself reciting the lord’s prayer even though he’s not particularly religious (and if there is a god he’d like to personally go up and sock them across the face).

When you noticed his little rituals, you added on a good luck charm of your own - his favourite by far. A quick peck on the cheek followed by a teasing little “good luck, captain” in his ear. Price swears there’s something divine in your affection, it does wonders for his morale and efficiency. He thought nothing of it the first few times, but when he realised that this little gift of yours was here to stay, he started to reciprocate in kind when the others weren’t looking. His soul has become tainted over the years - if anything a kiss from him should be a bad omen - but your beaming smile in response convinces him that maybe he’s given you some luck your way.

And perhaps that’s why, after your ritual good luck kiss, he feels a little more than bothered when Laswell calls you away before he can reciprocate. You notice the slight furrow of his eyebrows and laugh, telling him not to worry and that you’ll see him on the other side. The hold you had on his arm disappears as you pull away, bidding him and the rest of the Task Force good luck as you join your own squadron. Price then returns to commandeering his own men, but the thought lingers in the back of his mind. Perhaps you need that extra little bit of luck today.

Price hates how good his intuition can be.

“Bravo 0-6, do you copy?”

With his squadron grounded and on the perimeter of the site, he stiffens at the tone of your voice. That’s not how you usually sound like over comms, that hint of uncertainty didn’t suit you.

“Loud and clear, in position of Site A.”

“Copy, we’re at the compound but… we’ve got company.”

“Al-Qatala?”

“No, looks like Al-Qatala is buddy-buddy with some mercs and- shit.”

“Breeze, what are you seeing?”

“How’d they get us surrounded…?” You mutter more to yourself than to Price but his blood runs cold regardless.

“Bravo 1-5 you are to fall back and wait for backup-”

He’s cut off by various layers of static but he’s learnt to decipher them. The deeper base of the rustle of fabric as you manoeuvre, the sharp trill of gunshots all overlaying the white noise of distant shouting.

“Price, our exits are blocked, they knew we’d be here, how’d they- Corporal! Fuck, stay with me! We’re dropping like flies here. Bravo-1, we’ve got no choice, we have to push through, full offensive!”

He hears the screams of nearby soldiers. While he’s grateful none of them are yours, he knows that the ride back to base will be a rough one regardless. He feels the eyes of his subordinates burn holes into him and the walkie talkie. Gaz, who was beside him, was the only one moving, animatedly talking to Laswell and filling her in on the situation.

“Bravo 1-5-”

There’s an audible sigh on your end that shuts him up.

Through the time it has taken for Price to become captain, he’s learned a lot the hard way. One of the most important things he’s learned is that earning Lady Luck’s favour is more crucial than any skill for the battlefield. Some of the best he’s ever seen has fallen because they pissed her off somehow, but he still never expected her to shun you.

“Just my luck…” your voice starts off quiet as you curse to yourself. A gulp breaks up your panting as you stabilise your breathing. Your next words are far too calm.

“I’m sorry, Price.”

“Sergeant.” Price’s voice was low, cautious. A warning. He knows how you fight, he knows you don’t do anything extreme unless the situation he calls for it, and once again he’s praying to the unknown that it hasn’t come to that.

“I said next time we hit the pub with the 141 that the first round will be on me but I don’t think I can make that.”

“Don’t talk to me like that, Breeze.”

“The merc company goes by Order of Ashes.”

Your words are becoming harder to hear as the explosions seem to be getting closer and closer. Gaz is becoming louder, literally screaming into his comms as he near begs for an evac for your squadron. The rest of his team is becoming restless. Price’s grip tightens impossibly tight on the walkie talkie, any tighter and he could probably crush the metal.

“Rain hell on them for me, yeah?”

Price starts calling for your name, only to be interrupted by a deafening static that has him reeling from his own technology. Inexperienced privates that surrounded him flinched at the sound while Gaz fell silent. Soon Price’s walkie talkie falls silent too.

He brings his hand up to activate communications again, a tentative check in.

“Bravo 1-5, do you copy?”

He waits for a moment.

“Fuck. Breeze? Do you copy?”

The next time he calls out to you is the first time he’s hesitant, to the untrained ear he sounded as strong as ever but to him he recognises how his own voice wavers. A gentle call of your actual name, the last resort.

Silence.

Price gives you a few more seconds to answer, each moment more damning than the last. Gaz sends a concerned look his way but words fail him. He’s a good sergeant but his inexperience is showing. He hasn’t fully mastered the poker face, not like Price has. 

Eventually he lets out a heavy exhale through his nose, counting each racing heartbeat it takes until it has marginally slowed.

Gaz instinctively straightened up, he didn’t need to see Price’s face to know his captain was transforming before his very eyes. Price adjusts his hat, looking at the rest of his team under the brim.

“Alright, we’ve got double the work and half the manpower. No time to lose, I want this site cleared within the hour, and then we're finding our other half."

With affirmatives all round, the soldiers get to work and so does Price. To the untrained eye, he’s calm, eerily so. As captain, Price can’t afford to lose his cool, it’ll bleed over and smother his team, blanket them in a tense atmosphere of panic and uncertainty. So he stays resolute, acting as the team’s anchor as he guides them towards the objective with precision.

The only emotion that breaks his facade is anger. Pure, unbridled rage that casts a frightening glaze over his eyes. His allies can see it as Price stomps towards the entrance of the site. Al-Qatala most certainly feel it as their lackeys are pummeled to the ground, bones cracking against stone and tiles. They’re not gifted the mercy of a quick bullet, but the pain of slowly bleeding out with broken bones, bruised bodies and limbs jutting out in all the ways they should not. Every bruising punch, every bullet delivered does little to quell the raging storm within him. It brings him closer to the mission objective but it doesn’t bring him closer to you, and that’s the only thing that matters right now. There’s no hostages, no chance of salvation for his enemies. Any form of good will in Price was taken away when you were taken away from him. He hopes whatever god that sees the carnage he’s inflicted knows that it is only a taste of what to come if he ever meets that poor sod.

When his side of the operation is done and the squadron is now leaving the site, Price returns to his comms. He needs to address the other half of the mission, you. Suddenly his tongue feels thick in his mouth as his throat tightens. His collar is suffocating.

“Bravo 0-6 to Watcher-1 do you copy?”

Laswell’s voice rings out.

“Affirmative. We’ve already dispatched birds to Bravo-1’s location, we’ll do what we can and sort out that compound.”

“Do me one more thing. Find me everything you can on the ‘Order of Ashes’. I want names, locations, families, the whole fucking mile.”

“Can do. … Is this for Breeze?”

“Breeze wanted me to rain hell on them…”

Price’s voice is low as he puts a cigar in his mouth. He lights it up, even when the cigar smokes he keeps the lighter on. His eyes narrow at the flickering flame, fixated on it for a moment longer. He’s never been a particularly superstitious man, but he’s asking for Lady Luck to be on his side once again. For the slim chance that you’re somewhere out there, breathing. He��s never been worthy of her favour, but you damn well are so surely she’ll put that into account. She’ll consider that you still have a lot to do, you still have a good luck kiss that Price needs to return. He puts his lighter away.

“... and I intend to deliver.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Ghost preferred his quieter missions. Others feel safer when in a team but more people mean more variables, and more variables mean more fuck ups, and heavens know he’s had enough of those. For Ghost, the less, the better. And yet, when it came to 141, and in particular to you, he’d pick company over going solo in a heartbeat.

Reconnaissance missions were a personal favourite, they were quiet, less violent if done right and often required only a few people. Of course his first person of choice is you, even if you’d always call these missions an “impromptu date” and then chastise him for not planning something more extravagant just to rile him up.

Even now, when you two were starting on opposite sides of the target site a good few kilometres apart, you were connected through communications. He’d listen as you ramble about anything and everything on your mind when the mission gets quiet. It was endearing, it was soothing. Ghost never thought he’d find someone like you with the power to give him a respite even when on duty - or if he ever deserved such a thing. And yet here he was, sitting against a wall, waiting for further instructions from Laswell as you started the purely hypothetical debate on who in the 141 would best survive the zombie apocalypse.

“Honestly, with a mask like yours you could probably blend in with the horde. 10 out of 10 you’d last your entire life like that.”

“Surrounded by brain dead morons? Already have that.”

He heard your laugh that you tried to mask as an exaggerated scoff.

“How long do you think I’d last?”

“One hour at most.”

“Oh come on Ghost, have a bit more faith in me.”

“All Bravo to Watcher-1, we’re awaiting further action, copy.”

As Laswell replies, Simon can already imagine your offended expression as he changes the topic.

“Bravo-1 this is Watcher-1, you are all clear to close in on the perimeter. Do not engage, just tell us what you see.”

“Watcher-1 this is Bravo 1-5, I’m already seeing hostiles.”

Ghost stills, his hand reaching back up to the comms. You’ve always managed to keep it cool but he heard how your sentence ended with a slight waver. It was too early for speculation, but the alarm bells were already going off in his head. The enemy should be clustered within the site, nowhere near where you currently are.

“I’m counting a dozen men, a couple of trucks and- that’s looking like some impressive cargo.”

There’s some extra static as Ghost finds his pace increasing. He won’t be able to reach you soon, but it doesn’t stop his legs from moving towards the site.

“They’re moving quickly, they’ve got an agenda.”

“Stay frosty, Breeze.”

“Got it, Simon.”

Your voice is more of a whisper now, almost blending in with the static. Was the enemy that close to you already?  Usually, he loved when you used his actual name. Everyone calls him ‘Ghost’ even off-duty, but you were proper enough to at least always call him by his callsign in battle. You were getting spooked and he was too far away to even try and comfort you.

It was a strain to unclench his balled fists. He wasn’t going to have a mission go wrong, at least not one that involved you. He’d be damned if something took you out before him, because he refused to return to a life where you weren’t yapping his ear off.

“Breeze, head back to exfil.”

“Fuck, they’re heading this way.”

If you found a good place to hide, Ghost could reach you before any enemy did. He had to.

“I’m heading towards your position. E.T.A 20 minutes.”

“Ghost, my spot is now crawling with hostiles. I know you’re a one man army but I think you’re pushing it this time.”

Your laugh was different this time. It wasn’t as hearty as the one he heard before, it was a weak wheeze. Half-hearted, the sound of a bitter and quiet defeat. He could hear your rugged breathing against the end of the mic. If he was actually with you, he’d stand beside you in moments like this, letting you put your body weight on him discreetly as he anchored you to the world. His gloved hand instinctively curls as he imagines himself holding onto your arm.

“Breeze, stay with me. Focus on the objective.”

“You owe me a proper date after this, Ghost.”

“Then make sure you get back in one piece-”

The comms are disrupted with a voice that Ghost can’t recognise, with you returning an indistinguishable shout and a curse. He can’t help calling your name into the comms, only to hear the static of indescribable commotion, bodies shuffling and the harrowing crack of broken bones and limbs. It escalates into a deafening crescendo spanning only a few seconds before the grand finale of a thump of a fallen body. The transmission ends with a damning click. He stops in his tracks before he returns to the comms.

“Breeze? How copy?”

The line has gone dead. Ghost slams his fist into the nearest wall, but it does little to quell the pain from within.

“Bravo this is Watcher-1, what’s your status?”

Ghost pauses at Laswell’s request, he wants you to be the one who replies on his behalf, you usually do. Never did a moment feel so heavy, outweighing his military gear and weapons, almost bringing the hulking man to his knees. His hand reluctantly comes up to activate his walkie talkie. He takes his sweet time, giving you the chance to interrupt. When he finally speaks, his voice is slow as he draws out every syllable, every pause a desperate invitation for you to speak up.

“Bravo 1-5 is M.I.A.”

Laswell is silent on the other side. Ghost lets his head tilt back until it rests on the wall beside him, the guilt made his skull too heavy. With that sentence alone he felt like your executioner, as if he just brought the possibility of you being gone into reality. The only thing he can hear now is the slight rustle of grass against the wind, a backdrop to the rhythmic bass of his pounding heartbeat. This was a typical ambience for solo missions, and Ghost was used to being alone.

But lonely? He had forgotten how it felt ever since you barged into his life. And now that the feeling has returned, he forgot just how utter shit it feels.

“We’re sending immediate backup to their position. We’ll meet you there.”

But by the time he and the squadron make it to your position, there are only the remnants of a battle left in your wake. A few unrecognised bodies are slumped against the walls, furniture is overturned, and dried blood paints the floor as a macabre dye. Most - if not all - of this must have been your handiwork, and if it was any other circumstance Ghost would feel proud, but you’re not beside him for him to praise you. That being said, there is no sign of you, and that leaves him optimistic, but the other soldiers seemed to think differently.

“You know, they say Al-Qatala never takes prisoners,” one jittery private said to another.

“What’re you trying to say? I've seen the Sergeant. Breeze is tough.”

“I’m just saying, even if we can’t find their body they’re probably d-”

“That’s enough,” Ghost snaps his head to them, eyes alight with a rage usually reserved only for his worst enemies. His voice is near unrecognisable, more akin to a growl than any human sound. He will not tolerate anyone speaking ill of you or doubting your capabilities as a soldier. He tells himself he does it for your honour, nothing more, nothing less. He disregards the selfish need for you to return to him as it wittles him down to the bone and contorts his face to a scowl concealed under his mask.

The soldiers hurriedly salute before exiting the room, leaving the lieutenant alone, shoulders and chest heaving before he moves to continue the search.

The team returns empty handed, but that means nothing to Ghost. Even as he’s issued new missions he does not falter. He fights with the same brutality, killing his enemy before they can kill him because he needs to return home. Return home so he can organise a covert mission of his own - retrieving you. No matter the rank or squadron that separates you, no matter if you’re shipped out to the other side of this godforsaken earth, you two are a team. Combat has hardened Ghost into a brutally honest man, many would call him a pessimist, but a stubborn voice in the back of his mind refuses to believe that you’re gone. You’ve always been a tough nut to crack, if you weren’t you wouldn’t be dating him. He’s seen you stare death in the eyes only for you to stand back up beside him. And so he faces forward and doesn’t look back. Because until he has to rip off the freezing metal of a dog tag from your neck, he swears on his stone cold heart that you’re still out there. Maybe a little tattered, perhaps even broken, but living.

Call of Duty Masterlist

[blingblong55]

Mistake -141

Based on a request:

I've got a request for you! I got lost in my thoughts and thought of a prompt so sorry if it's a bit jumbled lol So it's like a wrong place wrong time kind of thing where the reader is mistaken for an enemy, and taken to the base. Maybe interrogated a bit before the 141 are told they have the actaul enemy on they way to them and they're like 'then who tf is this....oh shit....'

GN!Reader, angst, civilian!reader, mentions of torture.

141, one of the best military groups the British military has. As always, they have a target to chase after, this time it's in a small town. Their informant let them know it would be a person dressed in a completely different attire than they were used to. You happened to be walking back from your boring job when you passed their location.

"Bravo 0-6, we have eyes on the target," Gaz said over the radio. "Roger that," Price responded, Within seconds you felt as if someone was chasing you. And having that you watched a crime documentary the night before, you quickly thought of a way out. You walked normally but stayed in well-lit areas. The men thought you were just trying to play along with your facade. "Don't let 'em get away," Soap said from his location, his snipe pointed at you. You grabbed your pocket knife and held it in your hand. You walked faster towards a more public road. "Quick, Ghost!" Price ordered. You heard footsteps getting closer and closer.

You ran away, not daring to look back once. You took many detours until you were close to a nearby church, Church service had started but before you could even reach it, Ghost tackled you. "Don't hurt me!" you told him, your hands held high. He took your knife away and pointed his gun at your head, "Why the hell were you running?" You tried to stay calm but two other men approached you, Gaz and Price with their own guns pointed at you. "Soap, you got visual?" Price asked over the radio. "Yes, Sir" was the response, a red dot on your chest. You panicked.

"No please, you are mistaken." your desperate voice pleaded. "That's what they all say." Price growls and Gaz and Ghost drag you back to their temporary base. The entire way there, you cried and begged to be let go. "You have the wrong person, please I'm innocent!" you cried. Soap aggressively cupped your face, "Yer shut the fuck up, ye hear me?"

At base, they threw you to a mattress in an empty room. Wrists tied to the other, ankles tied as well. Your teary face looking at them. Your body is littered with lacerations. Limbs are weak but they wouldn't stop hitting you. You cry, "Please...I beg of you...please stop this" You receive another punch to the abdomen. "Don't you understand we will keep this up, you fucking killer." Gaz held a knife to you. Over the radio, the Delta team came on. "Bravo six, this is Delta 0-5, how copy?"

"This is Bravo six," Price said, his eyes piercing yours. "We found 'em, and are on our way back to base." Ghost gave Price a questioning look. Both men stepped outside of the room, leaving the two sergeants with you. "What do you mean you have the person with you, Delta Five?"

"All features you told us to look for, this person has it and they have admitted to being the subject."

"Fuckin' 'ell." Ghost murmured and rushed inside. "Sergeants, step away." He commanded. "Ghost they are talking now."

"Step away from the civilian, Soap," he advises and approaches you with caution. He kneels in front of you and unties you, "Are you alright?" He asks you with a soft tone. You were too weak to move, all you could do was stare. Whimpers of pain filled the room once Price walked back in and took a look at the injuries they had caused. "C'mon, we have to rush them to the medics." Your vision blurred. In all his years of being a soldier, Price had a day he regretted the most. And that was today, hurting an innocent, treating them as if they were the scum of the Earth. What fucked him up the most? The fact you died on the bed of the medical tent. Your body is weak, blood on the floor and how you died innocent and young, a poor civilian taken hostage, begging to be let out and no one heard.

That day, Task Force 141 lost another piece of their sanity, another stitch with emotions and another shattered glass to the oath they took to protect civilians. Ghost added you to his book of names, the list of all those he lost to war, by his hands, or by the cruelty his job brought. Another soul that Gaz ripped away because of orders, ones he always followed without question. Soap, the one who had the most blood on his hands, now regretted not listening to his instincts.

[kivino]

KIVI, YOU SWEET ANGEL YOU.

can you write a price x gn!paramedic!reader where price is on leave, and maybe he gets into a car accident that isn’t too bad so he refuses to go to the hospital, but the cute paramedic keeps insisting on at least checking him out in the ambulance……….. 😋

DOUBLE VISION || JOHN 'BRAVO 0-6' PRICE X PARAMEDIC!GN!READER

Word counter – ~1.9k

Tags/Warnings – mentions of car crash, intoxication, medical examinations, fluff, first meeting, and lack of medical professionalism, lmao.

A/n – PLSS I HOPE YOU LIKE IT POOKIE, IT TOOK ME A HOT MINUTE TO GET TO THE REQUEST I’M SORRY MWAH. also credits for the name go to @mockerycrow as well, they’re a genious and have the biggest brain out of the two of us.

ao3 link for this fic

It’s always a slow process for John - getting used to the slow, civilian ways when he finally gets his leaves approved. When he spends so much time on the field, more often than not he starts to forget about “the other side” of life. Lack of noise, mundane mornings, and silent nights come and with them, the all-encompassing feeling of loneliness starts to set in his gut. John gets reminded about the lack of anyone’s presence in his life. No one is waiting for him back home, and no one will probably be any time soon, with how work takes over most of his free time. And then the captain remembers he’s not getting any younger.

Of course, he had plenty of experience and relationships before, but none of them lasted until now when his hair was already graying and wrinkles were starting to riddle his face here and there. John wasn’t insecure about his age, no, because that would be foolish, really, rather it was the fact that he had no one to share with all the years that were ahead of him.

What John also had a hard time getting used to was driving the busy streets of London with its crazy drivers after months of not getting behind the wheel, which brings him to this moment. Well, it really was on him for trying to get somewhere after happy hour in all the pubs in the area ended, he should’ve probably anticipated some drunk idiot would want to drive back home today. John wasn’t in the right headspace at the moment to fill out all the paperwork and figure out who was in the wrong. His thoughts were far away from here. Probably all the impact from the airbag and the hit.

He’s had it worse before, of course, so some bruises and scratches here and there wasn’t something he couldn’t handle. John felt some pulsing pain in his knee, making it harder to stand upright, and a bit of an ache in his neck from the whiplash, but again, it wasn’t as bad as getting thrown into the wall by an explosion or falling out of a damn helicopter.

So now he has to spend the whole evening working out things with the police and that drunk idiot who bumped into him, freezing his ass off in the rain. Just perfect. John feels a surge of annoyance and exhaustion wash over him, he pinches his brow, letting out an impatient sigh. Cops have arrived on the scene already and started examining the two collided vehicles, after putting around some traffic cones so some other lucky fellas don’t decide to join in on the fun. From his spot on the sidewalk, John can also see the paramedics, who had to get involved because as soon as cops started questioning that drunk guy, he decided to scrunch into himself and show the world all the contents of his stomach. As if it needed to get even more complicated than it already was.

“Excuse me, sir? You’re the other…driver involved in the accident?” John suddenly hears a voice, a bit on the quiet side, which brings him out of his thoughts that involve strangling somebody in a variety of different ways. And oh, his nights instantly become tens, if not thousands of times better when he sees the owner of said voice.

Judging by the identifying markings you were a paramedic, and a very cute one at that, with your dull green uniform and a big jacket on, brows tied together in a concerned expression. Oh, and your eyes, they looked absolutely lovely in the low streetlights. Price is taken aback for the moment, forgetting every word in his vocabulary. He feels his heart starting to beat faster, blood flowing through his veins so fast he’s sure if it wasn’t for the evening darkness he’d most likely resemble a tomato. But then John realizes he must say something because just staring at you would just make him seem like some old creep. And he absolutely didn’t want that.

“Yes, that would be me.” He speaks up after clearing his throat. You nod to that, attentive gaze still on him. John then adds on after a short pause, which took him to let out a deep sigh. “You need me for anything?” Anything. Something. Please.

“Just checking up.” John feels his heart melt at that small smile that grazes your lips, making it obvious you’re satisfied with his answer. “You seem to be holding up better than the other driver.” You joke in an attempt to either lighten up the mood, which John appreciates, or to calm yourself a bit. It didn’t escape him how you seemed a little shaky. It was Friday night, so today’s shift might have been rough on you. Always the Friday nights.

“Well, anyone would hold up better than that bloke.” He jokes with a bit of abandon, a low chuckle escaping his lips, as he starts to overthink himself. John suddenly feels like a dumb teenager, which is never a good sign, especially when there is someone he’s interested in right in front of him. Price feels like his laugh is too rough, stance is too relaxed and everything is just a bit too much when your eyes are on him. Oh, he’s so going to embarrass himself.

“True, but let’s not tell him that.” You give a quiet laugh and John’s worries die down a little. Not completely, but enough to let his eyes get glued to your face. “How are you feeling? Is there any abnormal pain, anything unusual or out of the ordinary?” Oh, so you’re the type to get straight to business, huh? Interesting. Price liked that. “If there’s anything wrong we’ll get you right to the hospital.” Price declined when he got asked about the hospital before by another paramedic because there was no way he was going to spend even more time out of his house because of some minor scratches. But if it meant you’ll be there, he’s calling dibs on the seat beside you in the ambulance truck, dear lord.

“My knee’s complaining a bit, love.” John can see your eyes going as big as two shiny coins when you hear that pet name, which, to be fair, slipped out completely unintentionally. However, by the way you instantly light up in another shy smile, he can tell you don’t really mind it, so his nervousness caused by this… “happy accident”, comes down again. “Some bruises, but I’m not about to hold you up because of those.”

“Oh, well, that’s alright, come with me and I can check you out…” You stutter over your words while talking a bit too quickly and once you understand what you said, an annoyed groan comes out of you. Way to embarrass yourself. “I mean, check your knee out in the ambulance, alright?” You again shoot him a smile. Which probably is in vain, since he’s a patient at the moment, and you’re at work, and that’s very much frowned upon, but what can you do? You don’t meet a man like that everywhere. He looks a bit rough around the edges, but that’s part of the charm.

“I’m sure your hands are already full with that hero of the day over there, I’m good.” What. The fuck. Are you doing. John. The only chance he gets to talk to you and he’s blowing it, for fuck’s sake. He didn’t know why he said that. Maybe not to seem desperate in a very self-sabotaging way, but that’s just. Oh, John, you’re too old for playing some damn games with someone you like.

“You know what? I insist.” Your voice is lower and rougher. And when you top it off with another one of your sweet smiles and a gentle touch on his shoulder? John is a gone man. Turning into complete mush, putty, if you will. God, for this perfect smile he was ready to smash and repair every single house appliance and pipe in your house.

“Alright then. Anything for you, love, lead the way.” And you did, with your hand resting softly on his back, helping him forward. John wished you would’ve been bolder with your touch, so he could feel more than just a light graze, but still. It felt good.

And then he finds himself in the back of the ambulance truck, this cramped, tiny space making him hold his breath from being so goddamn nervous in your presence. You told him to take a seat while rummaging through some cabinets and various medical bags for something. Seemingly not finding anything that you needed you spoke up to him again.

“Okay, now let me see your knee, sir.” You mumbled while kneeling in front of him, your eyes concentrated on the man. He didn’t mind you calling him sir at all. John was so used to being called that, but right now it just spread that very pleasant warm feeling inside of him.

“Well, I’m not taking my pants off. Not without a dinner first.” Price chuckled, as he tried rolling up one of his pants legs. And, well, his statement wasn’t that far from the truth. The whole deal with examination was a bit awkward to begin with, so he didn’t want to make it even worse.

“I’ll think about it, big guy.” You chuckle, as you finally start looking at his knee, small, feather-light touches sending sparks over Price’s skin. So, you enjoyed teasing him like that, huh? In combination with that nice, sweet smile? Oh, John is sold. He definitely should you invite somewhere while he still has time on his leave. But before he can open his mouth to make a brave offer you speak up again. “Looks like you have a minor sprain in here, your knee’s all swollen. I’ll apply some elastic bandages, that you’re going to have to wear for some time and redo yourself. But overall you seem to be doing good” Price couldn’t help but feel like that last remark wasn’t about his health.

“Yeah. Yeah. That’s all fine with me, love. Do what you have to.” You only nod in response, spending some time rummaging in the cupboards once again and emerging victorious with a roll of elastic bandages in your hands. You return to your previous position in front of John, and adjust his knee with a firm hand, mumbling a quiet “Hold still, please”. Oh, he’d freeze for centuries if you had asked him to. But he does, and as you wrap the bandage around his knee, which just kept pulsing with hot pain, he couldn’t help but admire you. The trained movements, the concentrated gaze, the warm touch…Maybe he really should act on his thoughts. Maybe it’s his chance. Maybe something can work out and this accidental meeting will become…something more.

Price wanted it to become something more.

His imagination ran rampant, picturing you wearing something nice and fancy, in case you do agree on a date. John totally should not be thinking this when you were right there, finally putting some finishing touches on his knee bandaging, so he forced them out of his mind and cleared his throat. Here goes nothing. But before Price can even utter a single sound you’re already being called over by your colleague. Guess he’ll just have to wait until you’re free of your duties, huh?

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[rainslices]

bravo 0-6 goin dark

[dtrghost]

closeness and proximity part.3

pairing: ghost x f!reader

synopsis: callsign is sunshine, because you're anything but. team 141 thought ghost was bad? at least they could crack a smile out of the guy from time to time, you? you were stone faced, all day, every day. until one day you're not, not with a certain someone anyway.

warnings: inaccurate military language and sequences, angst, allusions to mental illness (reader has sociopathic tendencies) you get the gist. Finally some fluff and emotional stuff between them so yaaayyy.

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT:

word count: 2.6k

The drive back was quiet. Price drove back with Gaz and had Soap drive Ghost and Y/N. He sat in the backseat next to her, growing genuinely concerned for her mental wellbeing. The more she thought about it, about the sudden flood of emotions from a small moment in a dirty, humid bar, the more she remembered. The quicker she'd sent herself back into that room to relive those moments again, the ones she never told a soul about.

Simon had to pull her out once more in the duration of the car ride, talking with Soap and forcing her into the conversation to take her mind off of it by asking her weird, off topic questions that she answered. They got back to base and she attempted to split away from the group to her room, only to be yanked back with a serious look from her comrade.

They sat her down at the dinner table, and she suddenly felt small. She felt like she was being interrogated with the eyes of 4 staring at her intently, waiting for her to say something. Yet she didn't, she stayed quiet for 3 minutes, glancing around the room and sighing irritatedly.

"Well. Are you going to tell us or not." Ghost pressed, leaning forward in his chair next to her. She scoffed, chuckling out of anger, the sound running shivers up their spines.

"What the hell is this. You're not my fucking therapists, so quit trying to act like it." She spat, her eyes full of fire and rage.

"You listen here muppet. It's one thing for you to be angry and violent out on missions, but it's a whole other when you lash out at us." Her eyes narrowed at him, watching the flames of determination and vexation dancing, growing. She was lost in them for a moment, the others completely confused about the sudden moment they were sharing. Simon couldn't describe the urge to help her, to get her to open up to them.

Maybe he was just too curious, but what about the slip up in the bar?

love?

She had none, that he felt sure of. Sympathy maybe, a simple attempt to ground her, that's all it was.

He saw something as he read past her rage, it was small and fleeting, a light. A flicker of a candle, but this one wasn't out of anger, it was soft, gentle.

The phone rang, interrupting them as Price pulled out his phone.

"This is Price how copy?" He listened before his eyes landed on her, and just like that, the candlelight disappeared, blown out and left like it was a figment of his imagination. Now there was a void, a shell of human ready to serve and follow her orders. All of her anger dissipated as she rose from her seat. "Rog." He hung up and sighed, looking at her with a sorrowful look, one that she didn't register nor care for.

"You and Ghost have orders to be shipped out to a distribution hub in Amsterdam, you'll fly in a heli and drive the rest of the way. Your chopper will be here in 20 minutes."

"Affirm." She stormed out after that, pissed off by what had just occurred. She angrily threw her civilian mask off to the side and yanked on her work one, strapping on her vest and clipping her gear.

"This is Sunshine, Bravo 0-7 confirm channel." She spoke into her radio, adjusting her gear to her liking, making it tight and in hands reach.

"Bravo 0-7 confirmed." His voice echoed in her room, earning a sigh of irritation as she turned to look at him. He was geared up, making him look thicker than he already was with the extra padding. Instead of taking him she shoved past him, earning a 'tch' as he grabbed her arm, yanking her back to look at him.

"What the fuck is your problem?" She was angry at him. Not at the team, not at headquarters, at him. Why after all these years he suddenly cared. After all the missions they went on together, all the looks she didn't understand or the fleeting moments where she felt something more than anger or a void nothingness. He could see her confusion, making him sigh and put a hand on his hip as a hand lifted to try and sooth her down.

"I'm just trying to help-"

"I don't need your fucking help. So back off." He watched her stomp away.

"Bloody Americans." He muttered, falling into step with her. She remained silent the whole ride there, from when they landed, she was to carride. He watched her, watched as flickers of emotion passed through her gaze. 6 years of pent up feelings did something to people, he knew that better than anyone, and because of that he knew she was going to crack soon, and it was going to be his fault.

He would continue to push until one day she snapped, whether she'd cry or scream or throw a punch at him, he would be there, he had to be. He recalled the nights he'd spent with her in the last few years, where they barely talked but rather absorbed each other's presence as they cleaned their weapons or read through mission briefs. When they did talk it was meaningless, it served no benefit, no new information learned about each other, but it was comforting. He felt comfort in her coldness at the time, maybe because there was someone just as fucked up as he was.

She thought about it often too, the time they spent together on missions, how it ran smoother with him around. She didn't understand the sensations she'd get around him, the heat that burned in her chest, her face. How if she thought about him at night while he slept on the hard floor next to her, she'd press her legs together because of the heat that festered there too. She knew what desire was, she was aware of the need for pleasure, but she never indulged. What was the point if it were not with him? And in her mind she would never be with him, she wasn't good enough for that, she wasn't there, enough for something so intimate.

She knew that maybe she could live a more normal life if she had let him help her, but everything was so on and off. During the ride there she'd think, maybe she would let him help, that wouldn't be so bad. Then she'd snap out of it and be angry with herself for even allowing that thought to cross her mind. She watched a safe house appear from beyond the trees.

"We're stopping here for the night. Intel says the shipment doesn't come until tomorrow." Their driver informed them. They filed out of their cars and distributed themselves to their assigned rooms, and lo and behold, she was forced to share with Ghost. Simon watched her sigh deeply and nod, following her to their shared room.

"Go shower first." He commanded, and she obeyed without a word. She was too exhausted to fight with him. She'd spent the whole way there trying to figure out her shit before it began to affect her performance, and it killed her. She was far off the mark, easily irritated, snappy. She hoped it would wash off in the shower, and she took deep breaths while staring at herself in the mirror, hoping to turn it all off like she did before.

But she couldn't, she'd look and see anger, or a foreign feeling she didn't have a name for. Sadness? No, she had nothing to be sad about. So she huffed, exiting the bathroom to see Simon waiting patiently on his cot. She didn't spare him a glance and laid down on hers, staring up at the ceiling as he analyzed her for a moment, getting no reaction to his intense stare.

He left for his shower, and she listened to his clothes drop, letting her mind wander to what he looked like underneath them.

It was a better distraction than negativity, it made her feel something more enticing, until she was left sexually frustrated. She listened to him shower. The way the water would hit the floor in ripples, imagining how his skin shined and dripped, the coolness of the substance and how they hit his scars. Yeah, this was a better thought. She stayed there, in that moment, even after he walked out.

He snapped his fingers in front of her face, earning a glare from her.

"What're you thinkin' about now then?" He questioned, grunting as his big frame hit his bed. She didn't respond, and he didn't expect her to, likely because she was still mad at him.

"You in the shower." His head turned to her slowly, flabbergasted by what he was hearing. He listened to the melody of her voice as her shoulders shook. For the first time since they met, she laughed, truly. She found his reaction hilarious, how wide his eyes got in horror and... hope? She found that funny too, so funny she doubled over the side, cackling like a mad woman.

"Jesus fuckin' christ." Simon sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose for a moment before laughing himself. He couldn't help it, she just had one of those laughs that forced you to laugh too, the wheeze, the gasps for air as she hit her stomach and fell onto the floor.

"Sunshine, you're gonna die of a heart attack at this rate." He spoke to her, watching her wipe the tears forming in her eyes as she took a deep breath, sitting on her floor.

"I hate you, ya know." She confessed suddenly, surprising him as he looked at her curiously.

"You piss me off, you fucked me up. Don't understand anything anymore. Spent the whole day trying to put myself back together and it's just-" She mimicked an explosion, her hands dropping heavily onto her lap. He sat up, sitting down on the floor in front of her with his knee facing up to rest in his arm on.

"Well if you tell me about it, maybe I can put some things into perspective for you." He offered. He watched her mental battle, the conflict blazing through her skull. He could practically see them floating around her head like a thunderstorm.

"Oh fuckin' hell, just say it. You're thinking too much." She huffed, letting her head fall back as she stared at the ceiling for a moment.

"I can't. I can't explain it. After I got out, I didn't understand much of anything, they tried to wipe me, break me in a way others couldn't by making me forget myself and replace it with what they wanted. But I was rescued before that could happen. I was thrown back in before I could fully recover, because I had a skill set others didn't."

"Things came back in fragments, pieces of my past came back to me, and I realized that maybe it was better that I didn't remember. That if I stayed a shell I wouldn't have anymore emotion burdens than I already did. But it was too late, and it all came back to me one night in shambles. From birth to that moment, everything. I couldn't handle it, so I turned it off, I reverted back to this technique I learned while I was kidnapped, and from then I could never turn it back on." He knew what she was referring to.

Autopilot, where your mind went blank and your body operated on it's own. You couldn't feel anything, you just did what you had to.

"Then I met you. And at first that was fine. You were just another soldier that I had to work with, and then we talked that one night, and talked some more the next. And feelings began to surface on their own. I don't know what it is, excitement maybe? All I knew was that I wanted to talk to you, I looked forward to it, I got these weird feelings in my gut whenever I did."

Was she confessing to a crush... on him? She didn't care. What she did or did not confess to wasn't a concern. He asked and he was receiving.

"And then you started caring, out of nowhere. Years went by and suddenly a few days ago, after I skinned someone alive and you found out some rough shit happened to me, you changed. It made me angry, because I hate feeling, especially things I can't understand."

He noticed that too, that he cared more.

"New information can change your approach, and you have to adapt and improvise." He explained vaguely. He saw something reaching out in her, even through this dump of emotion and information, he noticed the cry for help deep inside her. The part she buried underneath years of mistreatment and being used.

"Stop talking to me like a soldier." She snapped, earning a soft gaze from him that she hadn't received before. It made her chest feel weird, and he could tell by how she grabbed at the shirt covering it.

"You're pissing me off."

"No, I'm breaking you." They made eye contact. All the breath left her lungs in that moment, from his gentle tone and low volume to the look in his eyes that made her eyes water, it was too much. She couldn't take it. Her stomach lurched, and before another word could be uttered between them she scurried to the bathroom, emptying the contents in her abdomen into the toilet.

He was by her side in an instant, shushing her quietly and rubbing her back. His heart sank at the feeling of her shiver and the sound of her retching.

"I gotcha Y/N. Always have right?" She could feel her mind cracking, tears welling in her eyes from the pressure of the vomit and being an emotional wreck.

"I can't." She muttered weakly, sitting against the shower door, grimacing as the air entering her lungs burned with the raw feeling in her throat.

"You can. In all my years being by your side, there's nothing you can't do love, you and I both know that more than anyone." Her eyes met his, seeing his seriousness and true belief in his words. His hand came up and brushed away her tears before her mask absorbed it, the rough pad of his thumbs leaving sparks in the areas he touched. She didn't say anything at first, taking his hand into hers and giving it a squeeze of reassurance, more for herself than for him.

"After our mission. Please." He couldn't say no to a plead like that, so with a curt nod he agreed and held out his other hand to her. He watched her hand envelope his, finding the size difference amusing as his basically swallowed them in his grasp.

"Let's get some sleep yeah. You've done enough for today." She let him bring her to bed, his arm secured around her shoulders, feeling her hand on his waist. He sat next to her until she fell asleep before laying on his own cot. He looked at her for most of the night, making sure she didn't wake up, pondering about what she could be dreaming about as her eyelids flickered ever so often.

He followed her steady breaths to lull him to sleep, praying that tomorrow would go by without too much of a struggle so he could have another moment as intimate as the previous with her, even if it was small.

And that's part 3!! Finally some fluff and opening up, but I wouldn't get too comfortable with it just yet. I have some plans, not sure how I'll execute it but we're getting somewhere. Thank you so much for reading!!

[lovethetasteofnothing]

You have a thing for accents, they find out/ you have an accent - TF 141, Los Vaqueros + Farah + Valeria + Alex

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙

includes: captain price, simon "ghost" riley, kyle "gaz" garrick, johnny "soap" mactavish, kate laswell, farah karim, alex keller, alejandro vargas, rodolfo "rudy" parra, valeria garza (everyone getting fed today; yes the boys get their smutty content too)

gn!reader, except for laswell x fem!reader (she's a lesbian, argue w the wall), fem terms of endearment

warnings: nsfw content, dirty talk (like a lot), degradation kink, praise kink (yes, you get both) reader has a tendecy to repeat words they like the sound of (pretty much copies the way they say it bc it sounds nice), multiple themes idk what i'm talking about atp

word count: 2.5k+, aprox. 250 words/ character

enjoy <3

Captain John Price

he doesn't notice it at first, he just thinks you're smiling because his dad jokes are good

you say he sounds like a regular British dad at a football match (yes, football, I'm European too)

it makes his day because if he hadn't joined the military he would have probably been one by now

you call him Bravo 0-6 sometimes, you say it in his accent because why wouldn't you

repeating his favorite phrases from missions that he brags about because you think it's cute

insert cute Price smiley face here when he hears you(bc i love it so much)

you asked him for wa-ah once, he still isn't over it

you call him a lad/old man if his accent becomes really prominent

but you can't help the way his words make your heart race and the way he says them...

your underwear is sopping wet, your honor!

you freeze up and blush when he pulls off the filthiest sentence in a British accent

when he starts talking dirty during sex you can't help but moan louder/twitch/squeeze around him

that's when he figures it out

it kind of just connects in his brain and he uses it to his advantage

"look at the way you're taking me so good, princess"

will not let you live, constantly teases you about it

he'd call you 'princess' and 'duckling'

you quack at him if you're reallly feeling silly

recorded you doing it once, his favorite video of you by far

Simon "Ghost" Riley

you call him posh just to annoy him

gives you the hardest side eye of your entire life and you take it back

you tell him the Queen died and he doesn't have to keep the act up when he really pushes it (he calls you a tosser)

insert one of his dad jokes in here

you only laugh because you love him and your humor is broken

probably uses 'bloody' on the regular; calls you 'luv' and 'pet" 100%

like that man could just pull out a "What in the bloody hell did you just do, pet?" and you'd turn back time to make him happy

calls you his princess. emphasis on 'his" because it's never missing

definitely also the type of person to just copy whatever you said if he likes the way it sounds

when you're arguing, you just copy the phrases he said as arguments

good that the mask hides his smile or he'd always lose

loves the fact that you use terms of endearment in your native language for him (for my multilingual babes)

struggles to learn your native language but still tries

listens in on your conversations just so he can learn it better

upset when he can't learn bc his job doesn't give him enough time

turns into a big softie if you scold him in it

you record phone calls and save voice notes so you can listen to them while he's gone on missions

just the sound of his voice is so hot comforting

dirty talker supreme! i feel like he'd praise you more but there's a hint of degradation

just like a sparkle and he'd ask you five times beforehand if it's okay with you

you can't help it when your brain goes blank, the sound of his voice filling up every single corner of your mind (his dick does the same)

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

you also call him posh

actually pulls out a posh accent to egg you on

you're both laughing so hard by the end of it

pulls out the most British of British sentences and leaves you shocked because the only word you understood was 'and'

clap because that's impressive

loves your accent if you have one

makes you say a word three times because he's fucking head over heels for the way your voice sounds

dirty talk champ!

but only when he feels like it

makes you beg for him to do it because he thinks you look cute on your knees so pouty

"my love, look at you getting all wet just from the sound of my voice. isn't that cute?"

his laugh!!

makes you laugh too even if nothing is funny

sends you long voice notes with how his day went or cuddles you on the couch while doing it

and you just sit and nod while listening, not saying a word

not because you're bored but because you love listening to the way he emphasizes certain words

type of boyfriend to send you a podcast of a debrief of his activities

he does it while coming back from missions even though his voice is so tired

and it just makes your heart skip a beat because it tingles your brain in the right spot

groggy morning voice, his accent all over the place, stumbling over his words because he got home late last night and barely slept

mumbles incoherent compliments? confessions? before you kiss him and make him get more rest

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

literally pulls out the most Scottish sentence out of his ass

and you fold for some reason???

he's confused because he's used to Ghost telling him to speak English but you just nod along

you also ask him to translate because you don't understand

you pick up some of the phrases he likes to say and use them around your friends before you realize they won't understand

you try to decipher his accent sometimes

you either nod along even though you don't understand and hope you don't need the context

or you ask him to use less Scottish terminology/tone down his accent

you'd repeat certain phrases he says, out loud when doing random things

it melts his heart

he'd say the funniest joke ever and laugh at it for 10 minutes before realizing you didn't understand him

he explains it, you laugh because you don't want to hurt his feelings (it was a dad joke)

giggled a little the first time he talked dirty, you were flustered already and couldn't hold it back

you make him send you voice notes/ call you when you're masturbating now

his fucking pleasure tbh, has to hide from his team so they don't hear him spewing the filthiest shit known to man

someone caught him once, he said he was talking to his mom

Gaz is now confused as to why he would use 'cunt' in a conversation with his mom

starts saying his Scottish lover's speech and you mumble parts of it because you already know it by heart

you actually start saying it with him at some point

Kate Laswell

really concerned? but also not surprised that you have an accent/voice kink

like wdym call you 'her angel' again because you need to hear the way she says it

pulls out American mom slang on you

you call her mommy as a joke, it wasn't a joke

she catches on because it's not the first time you did it but doesn't say anything about it

understands people with heavy accents like almost perfectly

"i have to"

would pick up little words in your native language

you would also pick up her mom monologue

so when soap does something dumb and you start scolding him like Laswell would you're a little shocked

she'd be somewhere nearby and hear you, little proud smile on her lips

you have to explain whatever slang you're using to her

finally understands what gaz and soap say afterwards

i dont think she'd be big on dirty talk

so when it slips out once, you stare at her in confusion before processing her words

you beg her to do it more often

literally sitting on her lap while she does her paperwork (surprising that she even let you do that)

and you whisper sweet nothings in her ear, trying to convince her to take a break and relax

"come on, hun, you know I can't do that. people depend on me" in that cute concerned tone of hers <3 <3

pulls out the filthiest flirting tactics known to man when a little drunk

"how about you sit there and look pretty for me?" and you do

she pulls you in her car and fingers you until you're screaming while whispering about how cute you sound

it changes your brain chemistry

Farah Karim

disappointed but not surprised

she feeds into your kink thing just because she can

catches you staring in awe when she speaks in Arabic, finds it adorable

lowkey find the way she talks mesmerizing

like you can listen to her voice and watch the way she gesticulates for hours on end

has that leader/public speaker charisma to her that gets you hooked

barks orders at you because she forgets she's not on mission

apologizes immediately because you're her baby and she feels bad about it

also scolds you in Arabic before translating

bilingual queen chastises you in two languages because you did something dumb

but you die inside whenever she praises you

"my good girl, you did well" like yes ma'am, yes you did and you'll do it again if it means you can hear those words coming out of her mouth again

tries to do dirty talk but fails miserably (her face is too serious istg)

makes you un-horny not because it's that bad but because you're laughing so hard for like 10 minutes, you have to comfort her afterwards bc she's sulking not amused

you just weren't used to it

asks Alex for tips on how to improve (she's really sacrificing her dignity for you)

decided to use her new skills when you were close to climaxing because you'd probably be too dazed to care at that point

you weren't, you still remember her words to this day

you play back every single filthy thing she ever said when you masturbate

Alex Keller

our American boy™

you make him do the college bro accent

you both end up laughing on the floor because you joined in and made it funnier

pure chaos ensues

if you have an accent he'd look at you with the most lovestruck eyes

literally grinning ear to ear if you speak in your native language, this man is the biggest simp known to exist

wants to hear jokes in your native language even though they make no sense when translated

he can mimick some British slang/ can say some words in a British accent

you tell him to stick to his American English because he's hurting your ears

you mimick him lovingly when he uses really American phrases/ his accent becomes really white boy™ from the USA

he flirts in frat boy sometimes but it's Alex so you find it cute

another dirty talk champ!

like his voice is so smooth and soothing while he says it. his face is just unbothered, maybe a little smirk under his mustache

"such a sweet angel, already soaking for my dick, hm?"

insert ocean cosplay here

I feel like he'd mimick Siri and be on point

also reads you books while you try to sleep, his voice really does wonders whenever you have insomia

you make him record himself reading so you can listen to it on repeat while he's on duty

Valeria Garza

she figures it out in the first week of dating you

you still don't understand how she did it, you weren't that obvious

she said Chicago once (literally went feral over cartel mommy)

it plays on loop in your mind at random times and you have to ask her to say it again so it stops, she refuses sometimes just to see you suffer

you also copy her facial expressions and her gestures when you repeat something she says

lowkey impressed by how spot on you are, thinks of ways to use it for her own benefit

teaches you Spanish!!! she'd do it herself and give you hw while she's gone on business trips

she'd bend you over her lap and spank you for every question you got wrong

speaks whole dialogues with you in Spanish just to encourage you to learn, would not translate if you didn't understand (her lap looking hella empty rn)

so happy when you can finally understand most of her sentences but doesn't show it, just praises you

"Qué bonito... que bien ahí. Well done" (iykyk, I watch that scene religiously)

Spanglish all the way when she's fucking you

She'd just slide her strap in and degrade you

"Such a greedy slut for me. Aren't you, muñequita?" she wouldn't move until you confirmed it with words

"Eres una chica tan patética" (google translate pulls through until i actually learn Spanish)

she started arguing in Spanish with you at some point, you got wet

she had to stop when she noticed you were looking at her like that

Alejandro Vargas

literally frat boy flirting archetype

but he's so nice and you can't help giggling when he calls you those cute nicknames in Spanish

you start calling him Vaquero because really look at him, tell me he wouldn't be a ranch hand if he weren't in the military

spews out the most toe curling, smutty sentences in Spanish because he knows you don't understand

literally only does it so he can see your cute confused face

would also teach you Spanish

had a period of time when he would refuse to use English with you because you needed to learn

he stopped when you cried in frustration (literally lasted 3 hours)

big simp if you have an accent

just smiles while you talk and when you ask him why he just shrugs

learns random cute phrases in your first language and says them while you least expect it

you had to stop for a second and take it in before blushing

you sometimes share one singular multilingual braincell

when neither of you can remember the word in English or in any other language

the toaster is now officially the bread torch

figures out you have a thing for accents when you keep talking about how nice he sounds while speaking Spanish

it's being used against you

"Eres un cachorro tan guarro~

makes fun of you because you listen to his voice notes on repeat sometimes

he caught you doing it once and now he brings it up biweekly

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

my fav vaquero (sorry Alejandro) bc he's just so sweet

literally praises everything you do, bonus points if it's in Spanish

makes your heart beat so fast

if you get mad he'd wrap his arms around you while trying to calm you down

"Calma, bebé. Take it easy"

and it works? like the moment you hear his voice and his gentle words you're calm again

there's something tranquil about the way he says stuff

mostly uses Spanish right after waking up

gruffy voice + him whispering sweet nothings in your ear

and you understand most of it because he took his sweet time to teach you

corrects you in the sweetest way possible

so happy when you learned how to roll your Rs

begs you to say it again because it makes his heart flutter

soft dom who loves to praise you even if you're being a brat

"Ah mi princesita, you're being so cute right now. " while he's pinning you down and pressing kisses to your whole body

literally kills you with kindness

like you're really going to be a brat after he calls you all those sweet names???

literally giggling and moaning at the same time because you're flustered

like this man is really telling you he loves you while he's balls deep in you

struggles to learn your native language

powers through tho

stumbles on his words and you help him out (that cute boy smile on his face when he gets it right)

rarely yells but when he does...

he got mad at someone over the phone and you overheard him

changes your brain structure

and then he picks you up to complain about it, his annoyed voice literally fueling scenarios to your brain

[yumethefrostypanda]

John Price

[shadowbratt]

Bravo 0-6

[foxhopfics]

How the Squads, teams and ranks actually work in Call of Duty: Modern Warfare

The dissonance in tumblr users versus the actual branches of the military and how they've been written in fics.

Now, I'm very aware that's because no one here is an actual member of the SAS, and TF141 isn't real. So it's... not exactly like we've had the first hand knowledge about it.

However, I have noticed a lack of research having gone into understanding how the military actually works. The worst culprits are the people who've never actually played CoD, but to a degree, I've seen this in like 99% of CoD writing.

So, here's your OFFICIAL easy to understand guide to how the layout of the SAS and the British Military/Her Majesty's Armed Forces will Affect Your CoD:MW Fanfiction.

SAS:

All non-officer soldiers are returned to the rank of Trooper(Private) when joining the SAS, they then have to work themselves up again.

The 22nd Regiment SAS normally has a strength of between 400 and 600 men and is commanded by a Director-Special Forces of Major-General rank. While you may get ~125 candidates for tryouts, you're only going to end up with 10 new recruits who pass. Tryouts are held twice a year, once in summer and once in winter. A soldier must be a junior NCO to attempt, and only gets 2 total tries.

The regiment has four operational squadrons each consisting of 65 men commanded by a Major. Each squadron is divided into four 16 men troops commanded by a Captain and each troop is split into four patrols with each patrol consisting of four men, referred to as Alpha Company, Squad or Team, Beta Squad, Charlie Squad, and Delta Squad. Our boys from the 141 are part of the Beta company, which is why their callsigns are Bravo 6-0 (Price), B7-0 (Ghost), B7-1 (Soap), and B6-2 (Gaz, or B5-0 in '09) respectively. They are part of the normal British army, not the air force, despite their name being special air service. Where they normally are referred to in fanfiction as "tf141" which includes price, ghost, soap, and gaz. This is incorrect. What you're writing here is SAS Bravo Company, not Task Force 141

NCO, CO, DS, Sergeant, and Warrant Officers:

NCO- Non-comissioned Officer, or Enlisted: Ranked up from Private/Seaman/Airman. The "everyman", or basic infantry. Typically learns a skill and sticks with it (i.e radio techs, mechanical techs, vehicle mechanics, foot soldiers, etc). While any officer is a higher rank than a private, an NCO is never in a higher standing than a CO. After several years, they are eligible to become a senior non-commissioned officer (SNCO). This (NCOs) is who you're likely going to have working in the armoury.

CO- Commissioned Officer: "leaders" or "managers" from the beginning. Oftentimes completed a military degree (Royal Military Academy Sandhurst), or if not, was part of UOTC in college/university. Some others finish a degree and then attend officer training. They start as Lieutenants or Ensigns (navy) and often quickly rank up to Captain.

DS- Drill Sergeant: DSs teach Greenies/new recruits the Initial Entry Training (IET). They have their own Sergeant rank system that is separate from Sergeants. They must complete Drill Officer training to become a DS. Staff Sergeant, or a "regular" Sergeant, ranks up as an or NCO, and is in charge of infantry personnel, and doesn't really have contact with recruits (different from privates, you must complete IET to move from Recruit to Private).

WO- Warrant Officer: Higher than Enlisted, but lower than CO. Oftentimes keep their specialty skill, but without as much of the supervisor role. They come in as the "specialists" for things that the NCO's can't do (i.e complicated vehicle maintenance, machine overwatch, etc)

Ranks in the British Military:

NCO ranks:

- Private

- Lance Corporal

- Corporal

- Sergeant (Soap and Gaz)

- Staff or Colour Sergeant

- Warrant Officer class 1

- Warrant Officer class 2

CO ranks:

- Officer Cadet (officer school rank)

- Second Lieutenant

- Lieutenant (Ghost)

- Captain (Price)

- Major

- Lieutenant Colonel

- Colonel

- Brigadier

- Major-General (eligible to run the SAS)

- Lieutenant General

- General

- Field Marshall

So what does this mean for Task Force 141 and JTF Ghost Team?:

Task Force 141 was created by Captain John Price after Roman Barkov's death in MW1, but before MW2 as an international collaborative task force intended to tie up loose ends via Roman Barkov's associates.

It was approved by Laswell in the CIA and General Shepherd of the US Armed Forces.

Oftentimes TF141 is solely referred to with the British team which is where the confusion between Bravo Company happens.

TF141, while also consisting of Price, Ghost, Gaz, and Soap, is still an international task force consisting of Laswell, Shephered, and Alex (American), Nikolai (Russian), Farah (Urizk), and Alejandro and Rodolfo (Mexican) and ultimately existed for only one purpose.

JTF Ghost Team: Formed by Ghost and Alejandro after they were betrayed by Graves and Shadow Company, believing not many could be trusted at that time.

It was made to flush out the corruption of Graves and Shepherd.

Member consist of: Price, Ghost, Alejandro, Gaz, Soap, Rodolfo, "Ghost 2-4 Pilot" who I suspect is Nikolai, Laswell, and a few freed Los Vaqueros.

[thankyouforthememoriesworld]

So I (🔎) decided to dig more into 2016 because I had plenty of evidence for overlap but also didn't lol. Note this was Azzi's first year with Fairfax Stars and Paige played for North Tartan. Long story short, there was overlap but they were in different divisions. Paige played on NT 8th team the summer before her 9th. Azzi was apparently playing on a 10th grade team the summer before her 8th grade. But they were indeed in the same locations.

---------------------------------

North Tartan Summer Jam - June 2016 (No Overlap I can tell)

A fun little quoted tweet from North Tartan account in 2016 featuring Fairfax Stars and Azzi Fudd lol "They are legit"

https://x.com/NorthTartan/status/744032001620082690

Fairfax Stars 15U displays 3 future BCS players. Malu Tshitenge 6-4 C 2019 Elizabeth Martino 5-10 G 2020 & 2021 Azzi Fudd 5-10 G 2021.

The same guy tweeted on the same day:

https://x.com/brethoops/status/744011067588653057

North Tartan Starks 2020 team features Trifecta Paige Bueckers 5-10 G Mallory Brake 6-0 F & MacKenzie Kramer 5-7 PG. 3 future talents.

Now looking at the schedule for Summer Jam 2016, Azzi's Fairfax 15U did play North Tartan 10th EYBL but Paige actually wasn't on this team yet and played on the 8th NT team. Hence why they never played.

Tournament Schedule:

https://tourneymachine.com/Public/Results/Division.aspx?IDTournament=h201510192243367598877fa9d1c264f&IDDivision=h20160609131643192b6faa6c1558d4b

Azzi played several levels up while Paige did not participate in this tournament it seems (it only included North Tartan 9th and up). Now if you are wondering why Paige didn't play levels up I refer you to this tweet years later from her coach: https://x.com/22TTStarksMom/status/1151503192166948864

AAU Super Showcase - July 2016 in Atlanta (Overlap)

Then, Azzi had this tweet from July 2 2016: https://x.com/azzi_35/status/749378901768536065

AAU Sup Showcase Sched Wed 7/6 3:00pm vs. North Tartan - ct. 7

They were both at the super showcase but again, same deal - different divisions. https://image.aausports.org/dnn/girlsbasketball/2016/supershowcase/9-11SSTEAMS.pdf

They ended up advancing but losing to North Tartan (not Paige's team).

https://x.com/FairfaxStars/status/751563695000543232

Paige's team won the super showcase for 9th grade

https://x.com/22TTStarksMom/status/753615080315613184

Battle of the Boro 2016 in Nashville (Overlap)

Paige was part of the Freshman Division and won:

https://x.com/NorthTartan/status/753287011583332352

And seemingly, it seems North Tartan on all levels won championships:

https://x.com/NorthTartan/status/753331171023609856

Her team was undefeated in July thus far

https://x.com/NorthTartan/status/753287923965976576

https://x.com/NorthTartan/status/753285630654906368

Azzi was part of the Sophomore Division as part of the all tournament team:

https://x.com/FairfaxStars/status/754125955795419136

https://nyghoopsreport.com/news/battle-in-the-boro-all-tournament-team

-------------------------

On a different note - you can pull some scouting comments for Azzi's game since she was in middle school: https://nyghoopsreport.com/search?query=Azzi%20Fudd

Also the North Tartan twitter congratulating Azzi's team in 2017 and 2018 which I found endearing.

https://x.com/NorthTartan/status/876517915373309953

https://x.com/NorthTartan/status/1008389932413603841

I particularly enjoy "standing room only" for their match up in 2018: https://x.com/preferredscout/status/1008061107330789376

Last random thing I found - here's an incredibly old interview of Paige, my guess is from 2017 just from the headband

https://x.com/MrCmonNow/status/1167555153169268736

I don't know what to say other than bravo. Phenomenons from a young age ✨.

Bonus: Baby P with her baby voice 👶🏻

[jinxxangel13]

Phantom of the Night

Chapter 6:

Tw: blood, gore, minor character death, guns

~Masterlist~ ~Prev~ ~Next~

“Echo 0-1, moving interior.” Phantom called out, flipping her NOD’s up and sweeping her gaze around the first room.

She heard him before she saw him, registering the repetitive phrase just before she reacted.

“Mut!” Die.

Phantom pulled the trigger without hesitation.

“Grenade!”

She threw herself into the room on her left to avoid a direct blast and any shrapnel aimed her way. Once the explosion settled, she stepped back out into the original room, meeting Soap’s eyes with a nod.

“Fuckin’ hell. Good one.” Soap shook his head as he looked at what remained of the body.

“Check the bodies. Need positive ID on Hassan.”

As a team, Soap and Phantom moved together to clear the first floor, unintentionally making it a competition to see how many AQ soldiers they could down.

“Kill confirmed. Negative on target.” Phantom turned back towards where Soap was, seeing him dropping another soldier.

She rolled her eyes at his suggestive eyebrow wiggle, following him to the stairs where Ghost and another Bravo soldier waited for them.

“Pushing to second deck.”

Phantom could hear some sort of broadcast of Hassan playing in the first room on the right at the top of the stairs. Ghost reached the door first and opened it, only for an AQ soldier to walk out just as he would have gone in. Ghost pinned the soldier against the wall next to the door and shot him once in the stomach and once in the head. 

Hot.

Soap and Ghost entered the room ahead of Phantom and encountered another AQ soldier.

“Got two x-rays. Neither Hassan.” Ghost spoke to Soap and Phantom, who stood at the door right behind them.

“Dump ‘em.”

Phantom raised her gun and fired at a final soldier slumped in the corner, most likely for a surprise attack.

“Good eye.” 

“Thanks.” Phantom muttered, turning back around to lead them down the other hallway.

She avoided directly in front of her, swiftly stepping to her right through a crumpled wall and shooting an AQ hidden behind a pillar.

“Dropped another.”

Phantom stepped over the body and leaned out of the archway, just narrowly avoiding a bullet in the side coming from the room at the end.

“Tha’ fuck?”

She ducked across the hall as fast as possible, peaking around the doorway to figure out where the other enemy was coming from. Looking down, she noticed there was a grate at the bottom of a wall, a muzzle barely glinting in the light flooding from outside.

Phantom raised her gun, took a slow breath as she aimed carefully around the corner to avoid making noise, then fired twice.

Soap rushed down the hallway when the way was clear to her.

“Sneaky little gits are everywhere.” he spat, double checking the room.

Phantom swiveled around to the final hallway, trying to hear if someone was there before risking her neck again. She hadn’t heard anything so she peeked around the corner, taking a second before stepping in quickly. A shot rang out without her thinking about it, not even realizing she had been the one to pull the trigger on the last AQ soldier who was hiding behind the busted door in the back.

“Room clear.”

Ghost followed behind her into the room.

“Shit-He was here. This was a bloody op-center... Poke around. Likely Hassan's. Good intel from Laswell."

Soap tailed Ghost into the room, both looking around as she went through the broken door to do the same. When Phantom came back into the room, she watched Soap shuffle some papers on top of the desk written in a mix of what looked to be Arabic and a few others she couldn’t tell from the distance.

“Look- Hassan's uniform. So, he was here.” Soap turned the desk chair to show a black jacket with the familiar patches they were looking for.

“Lost him when we secured the crash site.”

Phantom turned back to Ghost as he spoke.

“Are you sayin' we shouldn't have helped?” Soap looked surprised, exchanging a glance with a partially angered Phantom before turning back to Ghost.

“Choices have consequences.”

“Glad to know I was a choice.” Phantom growled out as she shouldered her way past Ghost, ignoring the odd look he gave her and continued back downstairs.

Their radios went off simultaneously.

“All Bravo- we got movement out here.”

“On the way... All Bravo, circle up outside.” Ghost was behind Phantom, following her back outside and heading left behind the building to a warehouse.

“If Hassan's gone, then what the hell are they still protecting?” Soap called from behind her.

“Bloody good question. Let's find out.”

Phantom didn’t bother flipping her NOD’s back down, having an inkling she wouldn’t need them once they breached the rolling doors.

The three of them met with the rest of Bravo Team outside the house and headed down toward the warehouse together

“What do we got?”

A Bravo soldier answered Ghost back on his right, barely audible from where Phantom stood on their left.

“A warehouse. Roll up door's open. Heard somethin' inside…”

“Copy. Let's clear it.” 

The group of them crawled under the door and entered the darkened warehouse. Suddenly, the warehouse lights turn on and AQ soldiers burst out of hiding all along the back. Bullets started flying and the sounds of screams and glass breaking rang out in the room.

“Contact!”

Phantom took cover behind some crates with Soap, losing eyesight of Ghost and the rest of their team as she focused on the AQ soldiers. She switched guns as fast as she could, double checking that she had enough bullets before going prone and aiming between the slits on the side of the shelves.

[cod-dump]

Modern Warfare Bloopers and BTS PART 3

___

Soap: How the hell did Iran get their hands on this?! *runs up to crate to climb up it but his foot slips and he body slams against the crate before falling to the floor*

Bravo 7-6: You good?

Soap: *wheezes*

Ghost: Slick like-

Soap: SHUT.

___

Laswell: Do you have Hassan?

Ghost: Negative. We found a weapons cache. Hassan’s got missiles… they’re American.

Shepherd: 0-7— This is Gold Eagle Actual, repeat your last…

Ghost: Um… *in an actually very convincing American accent* Well, the big ol’ missiles we got here seem to belong to your kin-

Soap, looking down at Ghost from the crate: Hold the fuck up-

___

*Price and Gaz in the river*

Price: Gaz. You set?

Gaz: Good here, cap.

Price: Let’s get after it.

*they dive after the boat as it passes but Gaz misses the catch and Price is pulled away*

Price: GAZ

Gaz: I’m sorry-

Price: Now we have to stay in this fucking frozen water even longer-

Director: Let’s take five

Price: THANK FUCK I WANT HOT CHOCOLATE

(Off set)

Price: *is wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket sipping hot chocolate*

___

Gaz, sitting on the buoy: All by my SEEEELLLLLFFFFF-

Price, staring at him from the dock: *whispers to one of the crewmen setting up the scene* Do you think I’ll be able to swim over and drag him in the water without him noticing?

___

Gaz, singing: Swimming with a knife~ Oh I’m swimming with a knife~ Gonna shank some people-

___

[kivino]

MASTERLIST

Requests are open!! Make sure to read the rules for requests in my pinned post before requesting!!

Number of requests currently: 3

Message me if you want to be in the taglist!

Everything is (sort of) arranged in chronological order of posting. Once I have more works Character Masterlists will be available.

Personal favorites are in bold!

Created - 26.08.2023

Last updated - 13.09.2024

HEADCANONS

Fantasy AU with Valeria! - Fluff, SFW

Platonic!TF141 x Eastern European!Reader - Fluff, SFW

Roommate!John ‘Soap’ Mactavish x Reader - Fluff, SFW

FICS

Night time bonding || Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Gn!Reader - Fluff, SFW

Summary - You have a hard time falling asleep. Ghost has the same problem.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader smut drabble - NSFW

Summary - The title is pretty self-explanatory.

Hush || Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Gn!Reader - Slight angst, fluff, SFW (requested)

Summary - Different situations where reader and Ghost hug because he’s too afraid to say “i love you” at the moment, but both of you know what his hugs mean.

Take us back || Zombie AU || Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x Gn!Reader - Angst, gore, mcd

Summary – The new world was rotten, and you rotted away with it. 

Every time, I fall for you || Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x Gn!Reader - Fluff, suggestive

Summary - Kyle fell for you hard, but he doesn’t know if it’s mutual.

Double vision || John ‘Bravo 0-6’ Price x Paramedic!Gn!Reader (requested) - Fluff, SFW

Summary - John gets into a car crash on his leave and meets you - a cute paramedic who instantly attracts his attention.

I don't care what's in your hair || Roommate!John 'Soap' Mactavish x Gn!Reader - SFW, Fluff, Teasing, Friendly banter

Summary – Your roommate Johnny comes back after his deployment and his hair looks like it needs a little trimming.

Big guy || Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Gn!Reader - SFW, fluff

Summary – Ghost takes a liking to the nickname you give him, but struggles to understand just how much he likes it.

Closer || Slasher!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x M!Reader - Dark themes, kidnapping, dead dove do not eat (requested)

Summary - You hear various dark rumors from your colleagues and you don’t believe them, until there is one particular ghost looking you right in the eye.

Lost and found || Zombie AU || Parental figure!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Kid!Reader - Platonic, Found family, Hurt/Comfort, Parenting

Summary - You both were lost in this new world, but at least you had each other to lean on. Or tales of how Simon Riley deals wit being a parental figure during the zombie apocalypse.

SERIES

Out of the shadows || Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Shadow!Gn!Reader - Slight angst, action, SFW

Summary – After the betrayal of Task Force 141 and the slaughter of civilians in Las Almas you decide to leave Shadow Company on the spot, which works out sideways, leaving you with simmering hate towards the man whom you used to look up to and new interesting figures in your life. 

First step. - Where you cut ties with Shadows.

Second step. - WIP

Third step. - WIP

RANDOM THOUGHTS

Price, who’s down bad for his spouse

What if there was a cure to the zombie virus? (“Take us back” fic related)

Slasher!Ghost

WIPS

Something for your mind || Platonic!Task Force 141 x F!Reader (requested)

Whatever it takes || Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Gn!Reader - Angst, SFW