#cod soap hcs

[random-thot-generator]

Soap - coded.

He looks you dead in the eye from across a crowded room and does this... ⬆️⬆️⬆️

[abusivegymrat]

Being the only female in 141, but not in the “they all wanna fuck me uwu” way…

cute lil drabble (im sleep deprived as hell)

wc: 243

These men have no idea how to do the most basic tasks, taking care of themselves be damned.

They looked at you like they saw a ghost the first time you sat down with something on your plate that wasn’t a can of corn, beans, tuna or MRE’s. Holy shit, you’re eating from a plate, love!

And it was like you grew three heads when you wiped the table after Gaz spilled water, why didn’t you let it dry? Or that time you had to broom the dead mice out of the safe house. We could have lain down next to them, sweetheart! Oh when you made dinner for them? You won their hearts…

This wasn’t about gender roles, no, you weren’t doing this because you had to. You weren’t the problem for doing it, they were the problem for being so fucking dumb.

“Are you lot some sort of loyalty as in riches, or fucking rags?”

“Wha’?” Simon blurts.

“Are you this incompetent because you’ve never done anything and people did shit for you your entire life, or are you just… straight completely useless with no excuse?” The genuineness in your voice is a shock factor itself, enough to make the captain’s eyebrows raise.

“Lass, are you okay—“

“Soap, you just told me you’ve never held a broom in your life.”

One time, Gaz was cleaning ketchup from the table with rounded motions, smearing it over the table. Your breath hitched. “GARRICK!”

They’re nervous around you since.

Check out my masterlist!

[partiallysame]

Simon Riley Headcanons

- Will sit in silence for so long it scares the shit out of you when he does say something.

- Had to start making noises when he moved around the house bc the giant is someone so quiet and again scared the shit out of you every time he entered the room.

- Can remember everything, the most insane details but still gets it wrong like: you ask him to grab your black boots and he’s like “ah yes the boots you wore on our 4th date when you ordered this specific food and the waiters name was Steve” uh ya ok sure those boots. But he comes back holding heels not boots. And they’re blue not black and then is genuinely confused as to why You’re confused

- Big hot sexy man but sadly just a man. What do you mean you packed for a two week trip? Simon there are only 3 shirts in that bag. “Threes enough” no pants? “M’wearing them”

- Will hold your purse for you and if you tell him to stop holding it weird (straight out in front of him) he’ll sling it over his shoulder and next thing you know his pockets are empty and your purse is full of his keys, wallet, knives.

- Tries to get you to hit Johnny if he makes any crude comments (or unfunny jokes actually if he speaks to you at all) Legit whispering in your ear like the lil angel and devil shoulder guys “jus one punch lovie”

- Old fashioned manners (I see this one a lot in Simon stuff and big agree) you are never paying. Never touching door. In or out of the car? Sit and wait patiently. Sidewalk rule? Fuck any car for even thinking about driving near the sidewalk YOU are on. Princess treatment for life with this one

- So easy to train. Big man loves following an order. Something you want him to do? Done you never have to ask again. Whether it be buying a specific brand. How to wash specific types of clothes. Shoes off household? He’s got house slippers the next time he comes over

- Nerves of steal. Big bad Ghost. Except when he meets your friends for the first time. Brunch with a bunch of girls just like you? Just put him down pls double tap to the head what the fuck does slay mean. He never learned this language. He texts soap during the brunch to translate for him (I saw a headcannon? Actual canon? Once that said soap had 6 sisters. And ya agreed)

[forsaire]

soap isn't scared to tell his parents he's dating a boy

no

he's scared to tell his parents that the boy is English

[cod-dump]

After a long mission with no rest:

Price: Dead eyes, he looks like he's going to kill someone. He's mumbling. Do not ask him to repeat himself unless you want his frustrations taken out on you verbally. Has had four cups of coffee and a pack of cigs. Don't look him in the eye.

Soap: He can't keep focus, what is he even looking at? Trails off in the middle of talking. No, he probably won't finish that thought, better luck next time. He has been chewing on his hoodie drawstrings, don't let him swallow them, please.

Ghost: Has been staring at the spot on the wall for the last twenty minutes without blinking. Is he dead? Or sleeping with his eyes open? Either option is possible. Don't touch him, he will bite. Have tea as an offering.

Gaz: Looks like he's about to cry. Nothing productive has come from him since the flight landed. Don't ask him to do anything because it won't get done. Yes, he heard you. No, he will not respond.

Nik: Has been laughing to himself. Did he fly here? Yes. Is he flying back? No his keys are being taken from him, he's passing out in hanger in the back of his bird. Will be mistaken for dead later.

Laswell: She's talking fast but she is not making as much sense as she should. Frustrated, she has her head in her hands. Will fall asleep like that. No, she doesn't want a cup a tea, she wants concentrated caffeine injected into her veins, fuck off.

Graves: If looks could kill... His hair is sentient, he has not touched it since they got to exfil. Southern charm? No, southern sarcasm. He requires thirteen hours of an uninterrupted coma and a pot of coffee.

Alejandro: Incredibly argumentative. Personal space? He doesn't know what that is, doesn't care. Don't be fooled, he's going to start crying if he can't get to a bed in a pitch black room soon.

Rudy: Sarcasm to the max, will make someone cry. If he doesn't answer the first time then don't repeat yourself. He will bitch until he gets to curl up in bed. Don't touch him if you value any and all of your fingers.

Farah: Trying to be overly friendly because she doesn't want to unintentionally upset someone while exhausted. Will say something bitchy then immediately apologize. Please get her some coffee.

Alex: On autopilot, isn't all there. He can go for another two days before passing out. Don’t let him do that. Will say something batshit and then move on without acknowledging it. He's talking to the clowns, do worry about it.

[walmart-icarus]

Johnny carves things out of wood.

It’s expected, since the Scot is usually seen as an artist and it’s way easier to carry wood and a Swiss-army knife in a war zone than a sketchbook and pencil.

His most recent figurine, is a small horse. He proudly places it on Ghost’s personal desk in the barracks.

“…It’s a horse.” Simon states the obvious

“Aye, that it is.”

Ghost picks up the little horse, seeming smaller in this large hands.

“Kinda looks like you. Hairstyle an’ all.” He says lowly after a few moments. Soap rolls his eyes.

“Away n’ bile yer heid, sir. I’ll take it back, then-“ He answers, reaching his hand to grab the wooden horse, but Simon’s reflexes are faster.

“I didn’t say you should take it back sergeant.”

Johnny huffs and scuffles his hair self consciously. He turns around to leave before getting interrupted.

“Johnny, why do horses look so fit?

…

It’s because they have a stable diet.”

“I’m leaving.”

"Johnny im just horsing around."

[eleu22]

idk if yall missed my headcanons but i got bored and figured out which dog breed the 141 would be + co authored by my dog neek friend

[gloomwitchwrites]

I got like an idea-

Have you seen those art trends where it’s like- “Us after pound town”?

The one recording is like covered in hickeys, bruises, bitemarks etc but is completely fine and eating their meal? Then they flip the camera and it’s the top who is like wrecked. Heavily panting, shaking, unable to eat their food.

Imagine that- but the 141 x reader 😂

mdni

Reader: happily eating their meal like the 141 didn’t blow their back out less than an hour ago.

Price: all deep breathing and forced focus—pretends (and fails to hide) that his hand isn’t shaking every time it emerges from under the table.

Soap: hisses every time he tries to rest his back against the booth (it’s covered in scratches.)

Gaz: can’t pick up his silverware because his fingers and hands are sore from staying in the same position while bringing you orgasm after orgasm.

Ghost: winces every time he moves because his dick is sore from you milking every drop.

CoD Headcanons / AUs / Quick Writes Masterlist

[slaughter-kin]

YEAH? AND?

[hatsbuckets]

John Price who's tired after missions.

John Price who strips his gear haphazardly and slides on his last clean shirt and sweatpants.

John Price who rubs his face dramatically, huffs, and ignores the after action report he needs to finish up.

John Price who collapses on to the couch in his office, sprawled out on the thing that's almost too small for him.

John Price who doses off right then and there, not caring an ounce for his comfort otherwise.

John Price who barely cracks an eye open when the door to his office drifts open, the warm light from the hall seeping into the dark room, and a particularly exhausted Sergeant enters.

John Price who closes his eyes and just opens his arms, accepting the weight of one Kyle Garrick on top of him, wrapping his arms around the man.

John Price who breaths in time with Gaz as the smaller man shoves his nose into John's shoulder, to which John sighs contentedly.

John Price who doesn't open his eyes when the door cracks open again and the familiar presence of one sleepy Scotsman shoves his way onto the couch next to them, somehow, impossibly, perfectly. The warmth of one John Mactavish burrowing into his side.

John Price who moves his arm so that one is around Gaz and the other is around Soap, sprawled and wrapped into each other on the couch that's definitely too small for them.

John Price who hardly notices when the door opens again, and one silently tired Lieutenant sits on the floor, leaning back against the couch.

John Price who reaches over, gives the man's shoulder one good squeeze, and his hand is caught in the callused fingers of one Simon Riley.

John Price whose eyes scrunch in a smile when his hand is graced with one gentle press of lips before it's released.

John Price who sleeps warm and comfortable in his pile.

John Price who's tired after missions,

but never too tired for his boys.

John Price who eventually snores but all of them are too exhausted to move and are undeniably comforted by the noise anyway.

gaz | soap | ghost

[leathfaic]

Ghost thinks he's cracked the code when he gifts Johnny an ultra complicated lego set for Christmas. Something to keep his hands and mind busy for a while.

He's watching, with terror and awe as Soap burns through a 1000+ pieces in an hour, with half a bottle of whiskey in him - drinking more while he's at it. He smiles the whole way through, though - and Ghost gets a tipsy peck on his cheek. Which might or might not have made the whole endeavour worth it.

"Thought that might keep you busy a while longer." he admits later, when he's deep into his own cups.

"Ach, dinnae sound so disappointed Ghostie, not'ing in there tha' can explode. Can work fast and sloppy."

Ghost just spent an hour staring at Johnny's hands and the concentration painted on his face. He knows there was nothing sloppy about that assembly. But he has to admit that compared to Soap's usual jobs, this is bound to be rather calming.

His eyes meet Price's over in another corner of the room. And the message, conveyed by a single raised eyebrow is clear. Ghost is not to add explosives to any gifts, even if it would make Soap very happy.

So naturally the next time - at Johnny's birthday - he slaps down a timer and a fully assembled lego set.

"Better get it done in time Johnny. And no cheating."

The way Soap's face lights up at the implication that there might be a bomb in his birthday gift should be concerning. But all it does is make Ghost wish there actually were some.

Johnny is a good sport about properly disassembling the marzipan compromise inside though. And just to prove he can immediately rebuilds the legos into the other figure they can form - taking a shot every time he has to look at the manual.

And when he carries his way too drunk partner to bed, Ghost vows to apply for Christmas leave. Which is something he hasn't done since...well for a long, long time.

Johnny, being the man that he is, never questions why they are going to spend Christmas in the countryside. A small cottage barely worth the name, as far away from other people as you can get on the Isles.

He just takes the chance to kiss Ghost every chance he gets, enjoying the fact that their isolation means he's getting an unprecedented amount of mask-free Simon.

"Got a surprise for you out in the shed, sweetheart." Ghost whispers when he catches Soap from behind while the man is about to open a bottle.

"Sounds like what a serial killer would say to lure ye into the open."

Ghost decides not to ponder that. With the reality of their jobs that answer... more than he's willing to argue right now.

"Should wait with that until you've had the surprise." he says instead, gently taking the bottle from Soap. Who for the first time frowns.

Ghost relents and they bring the scotch to the shed.

When Soap sees what he cooked up, he whistles low, no need to confirm that what he's seeing is the real deal.

It has taken all of Ghost's knowledge about explosives to craft the abomination. The two lego sets combined with a new third one, 6 sets of cables - all the same colour, and of course a live charge inside.

Johnny goes all still. Stalks closer like he's trying to get the drop on the inanimate object.

Watches it from all sides before turning to Ghost, "Do Ah need to follow protocol?"

His voice clearly tells him he hopes he does not have to. Ghost once again feels vindicated in his choice to move them out here, just pressing the bottle back into Soap's hand with a smile.

If this is what takes them both out then it's already worth it for the unhinged grin it gets him. Johnny's feral joy is infectious, and when he finally steps away raising his hands like he's expecting a crowd to cheer, Ghost honestly couldn't tell you how much time had passed.

He doesn't get a chance to ponder it either because the next second he's tackled by a full grown Scot with a half empty bottle of scotch in his hand and taken clean of his feet.

And if he hadn't already convinced this had been worth it, then the way Johnny makes sure to say thank you certainly is.

They do not make it back to the cottage for a good long while.

(This whole thing was inspired by my dear beloved @dismightyman who's singlehandedly holding it down in the Ghoap trenches with me)

[partiallysame]

Ghost Gets No Bitches Part 2:

second part to THIS

Word count 1400

Content warning: suggestive, alcohol

When ghost finally texted you the message was something along the lines of: 

Hello. This is the man from (insert specific grocery store name followed by the exact address of said grocery store). 

You: Do I get to know your name or am I just supposed to call you Man From Grocery Store?

Ghost: Simon

Wow ok not a talker but we can work through that. Simon knew he should take you to a proper dinner but you made him so anxious he needed somewhere safe. Comfortable. Ah yes the closest bar to his base that he goes to almost daily. When you agreed to the date the panic really set in. He’s gonna be alone with you again (he ran to Price to ask for help on what to do. “You can’t wear the fucking mask” “but why?”)

The second Ghost got out of his car he noticed Soap had followed him to the bar (how could he not, Ghost had been sweating all day about meeting his lil lass again) “you walk in that bar and I’ll put a bullet in you, Mohawk”

“Aye come on. Jus wanna see a little more of the pretty bird that’s got ya all nervous”

 Soap knew he was bluffing about shooting him until Ghost pulled up his shirt enough to show his gun and the silencer attached to it. Yup ok he really would shoot him. Suddenly Soap is back in his car.

And then there you were, picture of perfection walking towards him. Big smile and small dress oh he was fucked. He opened the door for you and you let out a “good boy” as you walked through, an audible gulp came from him. Making your way to the bar to order, you told the bartender your drink, turning to ask Simon what he wanted only to find him standing 4 feet from you, scared to get too close. “Come here.” A command. One giant step and he was by your side. You moved closer until your shoulder was touching him. Control your breathing Ghost. “What do you want big boy?” You looked up at him and he should be embarrassed that you just called him that in front of his favorite bartender but he is definitely not. He said the beer he wanted and you added “two please. He’s nervous” the bartender was trying not to laugh.

“Tab Open or closed?” The bartender asked to which you quickly said open and began sliding your card over. 

“No.” Simon’s voice was deep and gravely and his sudden outburst caught you off guard. He may let you walk all over him but there was no way he, a gentleman would let you pay. 

You turned to him, eyebrows raised, “did you just tell me no?” Voice laced with genuine surprise and his eyes got wide, fuck was he in trouble? He nodded too afraid of how to properly respond but he continued to hand his card over and return yours to you. 

“You only get to tell me that once and that was it.” You scolded him as the barkeep slid the drinks over to you. You grabbed his two beers, one in each hand to hand to your date. He nodded again in response but did not miss the way your eyes were glued to his giant hands when he easily held the two bottles in one hand. 

Making your way over to a booth to sit, someone bumped into you, slightly spilling your drink down your hand. The man kept walking until a large (big sexy) hand grabbed his shoulder. Terrified apologies stumbled from his lips at the sight of Simon. But your hand quickly found its way onto Simon’s chest. 

“It’s not a big deal. Right Simon?” He looked down at you just in time to see you put your fingers in your mouth sucking the spilled drink from them. Christ’s sake woman. Your hand on his chest could feel his racing heart beat. 

“Not a big deal mate.” He let go of (pushed) the man as he watched you finish the walk to the table you wanted. He followed but when he got to the table he just stood there so awkwardly. 

“Simon, sit down. This is a date you know.” He’s sat. You decided that if he wasn’t going to talk then you wouldn’t either. You just sat there watching this giant muscle man fidget in his seat, emotional support beer being held so tightly in front of him. Your eyes taking in all of his features, pretty brown eyes and chiseled facial features. After however many minutes of silence (Simon squirming) you decided it was time for billiards. This is a bar after all. 

“Let’s go play” your head nodding to the empty pool table. The sudden sound of your voice made him jump. For goodness sakes man chill. He downed his second beer as he stood beginning to relax slightly. The bar was starting to get crowded so you reached for his hand before making your way to the table, pulling him behind you. You’re touching him. Fuck your hands are so soft, small compared to his. How would they look holding his…  A small and disappointed “oh” came from your lips as you neared the table. A group of men had gotten to it first but with a quick clear of his throat and deadly stare from Simon they gently handed you the cue ball. You turned to face him and god you were so close to him. He thought you holding his hand was bad? Now your chest is touching his. 

“Ready to lose?” You questioned batting your lashes at him, watching his pupils dilate. 

“I was gonna ask you the same.” You bit your lip at his response, excited to finally get somewhere with this man. There was a stare down for a few moments before you turned to begin the game. 

Were you bad at pool? No. Were you good? Also no. But Simon? Never missed a shot. No no this won’t do. Quickly realizing that you are losing (you only got one turn) you changed the game. Now you’re just standing at the edge of the table, looking pretty, moving the balls around with your hands, demanding trick shots. 

“Orange here to here then this pocket.” Hands pointing around before being placed palms down on the table, cleavage exposed and Simon can’t breathe. He does it and you praise him with another “good boy.” Two more planned shots and now you’re curling your finger, beckoning him closer. 

“8 ball. Corner pocket.” Simon begins to bend to line up his shot when you move so you are sandwiched between him and the table. Breathe Simon breathe. “Go on handsome.” Fuck ok he can do this. His large body easily envelopes yours, slowly bending at the waist and you are pushed down slightly, his chest pressed against your back. Your ass pressed exactly where you want it. Simon’s arms wrap around you to place his hand under the stick to steady it. You wiggled your ass back against his crotch and you could hear him stifle a groan. You can tell he’s trying to focus on the task at hand, but let's make it more fun. You turn your head until your lips are brushing against his jaw, sliding their way up to his ear and the whine that escapes this man at the contact. His hands glued to where they were placed on the table, too scared to move them where he actually wanted them.

“If you make this, you’ll get a reward.” You pressed your body into him more, feeling what was starting to form in his pants and you could feel the vibrations in his chest from a suppressed growl. “But.” you paused for a moment and he thought he was going to break the pool stick from holding on so hard. “But if you miss, your friend from the parking lot is allowed to come play too next time. So whats it gonna be?” You removed your lips from his ear, signalling him to take the shot. A breathy and accidental “fuck me” came from him as he lined up his shot. There was no way he was going to miss this, but when you added “thats the plan” after his last comment he missed the ball all together, pool cue scratching the green fabric on the table. He stood quickly cursing every god there ever was as you spun in his arms now face to face. Your arms reached up to wrap themselves around his neck. “What was his name again?”

Part 2.5 Part 3

[mindie-arts]

Fuck it *ponifies your military men✨*

This might be my new obsession-

[penguinbuttcheeks]

soft!könig x gn!reader

smut!!! minors dni *

₊˚.༄:፣ 𓏲࿐࿔ ˚˖°☾☽ °˖˚𓏲࿐࿔ ₊˚.༄:፣₊˚.༄:፣ 𓏲࿐࿔ ˚˖°☾☽

“shh, baby, shh,”

“i know, i know. mine. all mine, shatzi”

he coos low in your ear, lips coming back down to pepper soft kisses along your jawline in an attempt to satiate your growing need, hips rocking and grinding against your own.

the sound of your whimpers, the taste of you, it made his skin crawl. in a good way.

a good way.

god, he loves you like this. so vulnerable and expressive, so soft and willing.

fingers dance across your soft skin, goosebumps trailing in their wake, feeling the shivers that wrack through you as you peer up at him, eyes teary and half lidded.

könig has grown used to the plethora of responsibilities he’s forced to upkeep. chores that he could care little about that comes with his high rank, but this?

god. how could this possibly be a responsibility?

this was a gift.

“poor thing. you don’t even know what i’m saying, do you?” he teases, another gentle thrust of his hips causing your head to fall back, a choked sob ripping past your lips.

he’s panting softly, steely eyes taking in your every expression, committing each and every minute detail to memory.

no matter how many times he’s seen you like this, he’s always left starstruck, breathless at the beauty beneath him, so vulnerable and messy. so perfect.

your hands grip at the scarred skin of his back, blunt nails creating more indents along the rough and marred surface - barely registering the sting of your clawing. he’s too fixated on the feeling of you wrapped around him so perfectly, the way you huff his name and cry out against his chest.

“you’re doing so good, mäuschen. so good for me,” he groans out, voice strained from exertion, from how good you make him feel.

his head falls to rest between the juncture of your neck and shoulder, hot, heavy puffs of air hitting the skin of your throat.

it’s hard to tell which of you is truly the one being ruined.

“just a little more, a little more, liebling,” he pants out rapidly, relishing in the way you squirm and cry.

what a terrible lie.

he’s soft. loving and gentle with you as he continues to rhythmically piston his hips in to you, so attentive to your needs.

but könig is a greedy man.

he’ll continue to to rut against you, desperate pleas swallowed by chapped lips against your own, silencing you for just a moment longer, buying time.

anything to savour the bliss of this moment.

₊˚.༄:፣ 𓏲࿐࿔ ˚˖°☾☽ °˖˚𓏲࿐࿔ ₊˚.༄:፣₊˚.༄:፣ 𓏲࿐࿔ ˚˖°☾☽

[cod-dump]

When they're sick:

Price: He's fine stop asking. No he has to get his work done, no time for rest. He said he's fine! That cough is normal, yes puking is normal. He's got shit to do!

Graves: End of the world, he's dying. This is it, this is how he dies. He's laying in bed crying until the second he can breathe out of his nose again.

Nik: Wait, he was sick? Since when? You're lying, he never gets sick.

Ghost: He's working until his bones break. He needs to be watched or he's trying to get out of bed. Will behave as long as he's constantly supervised. Is that medicine orange flavor? He's going to kill you, cherry only.

Soap: He's either absolutely fine or he's dying, there's no in between. Don't touch him he bites or if he doesn't have any head pats he's going to cry.

Gaz: Oh, he's taking a sick day. He doesn't want to risk getting anyone sick. Is he dying? No, his doctor says he'll be fine. He'll be fine, he'll catch up on sleep.

Laswell: Don’t touch her she'll stab you. Don’t look at her she's fine. Her wife made her soup, don't even look at it. Why is she still working? Who else is doing her damn job? Exactly.

Alex: He can handle being shot better than a cold. He hates everything, he's melting, he's dying. Tell Farah he tried (he'll be fine in two days).

Farah: Sick? Does it look like she has time to be sick?

Alejandro: He's doubled his work load. He gets more productive when sick. He has his spicy soup, he's going to live forever.

Rudy: Sick? He's immune to all such things. He hasn't been sick since he was five.

[forsaire]

ghost and soap have been together for years but they still insatiably flirt like they haven't even had their first kiss yet. they can't be stopped. as soon as the two of them are in a room together, they lose sight of everyone else, which unfortunately means forgetting about all the other soldiers that have become unwitting bystanders to such flirting. it's gotten to the point sometimes where as soon and ghost and soap enter a room together, everyone else clears out because they can't handle how disgustingly in love those two are with each other

ghost and soap dont mind though, it gives them more privacy for a heated make out sesh