#do you think gaz’s old team calls price sometimes ?

[empresskylo]

would you do headcanons if price was readers boyfriend?! 🫶🫶😮‍💨

↳ yuuhhh i gotchuu 🫶

⋆｡°✩ CONTENT WARNINGS | afab!reader, she/her pronouns used, feminine pet names used, smutty content at the end

cod masterlist | main masterlist

♡ such the gentleman. he asked you out on a proper date when he realized you both were feeling something for one another. even tho it’s really hard to do/find the time whilst working, he managed to do something cute for you.

♡ possessiveeeee! even before you were dating, when he knew he liked you, he’d act all possessive over you. all the other men knew to stay away from you or they’d get on price's bad side (they’re so dramatic). so even now, he likes to have his claim over you and makes sure everyone knows you’re his.

♡ that doesn't mean the men didn't tease him a lil bit--and by men, i mean gaz. he would team up with you a lot, or be a lil extra touchy with you in front of price, just to see him get pissed. but price couldn't really do much about it because you two weren't dating and you didn't even know he was into you like that. ♡ gaz looked at you, smirking, and you felt one of your eyebrows raise. he walked closer to you and decided to help you get situated for your upcoming mission. he was giving you a hand in securing your tactical gear, making the process go faster, when price approached. "I think she's got it." gaz looked up at him and gave him a knowing smile. "just trying to speed things up, cap." price's jaw tightened, having no choice but to keep moving unless he wanted to explain just why he was annoyed at gaz doing something so innocent as helping you.

♡ speaking of being possessive, he is also very proud to be with you. he doesn’t find the need to keep your relationship a secret even if he knows people will judge you both for it (you’re so much younger, he’s your superior, etc). he wants everyone to know.

♡ and he’s not afraid of some pda. he’ll give you little kisses randomly that catch you off guard (especially if you’re a soldier under his rank). there have been times when the others teased you about it. obviously, price didn’t care, but you always got flustered. “i’ll be back at the barrics,” price directed to you and soap who both gave him a curt nod. price leaned down towards you and before you could question him, he placed a kiss on your lips. he smirked when he pulled away, your eyes wide, your face warming. price turned to leave and soap burst into a fit of giggles. “ugh, how old are you?” you asked soap irritated, but your cheeks were inflamed and your heart was racing with something similar to embarrassment. ♡ he’s possessive, but not in an over-the-top way. like he’s not gonna freak out if he sees you talking to another guy, or if you’re wearing something skimpy. my guy is secure in himself (maybe even a little too much sometimes) and he knows no one is quite as good as him. he doesn’t worry about you leaving him.

♡ uses all the pet names for you. you were honestly impressed he managed to find so many to call you. love, doll, baby, sweet girl, baby girl, princess, lass, honey, babe, little one, brat, pet, kitten (you may have threw a shoe at him when he called you that), queen, lovely, sweetness, sweetheart, sunshine. the list goes on.

♡ he also began to call you such random shit that makes you laugh. munchkin, cutest lil lady, little foot, shorty, pipsqueak. (basically anything silly that gave off dad energy)

♡ keeps polaroids of you in his wallet <3

♡ had your name engraved in his favorite knife. also has your name engraved on a simple silver bracelet that he always wears.

♡ speaking of jewelry, he got you a locket with a picture of the two of you in it. you gave it to him to wear once when he was gonna be away from you for quite a while. he never took it off.

♡ he likes to get you flowers all the fucking time. roses, peonies, tulips, the whole lot. you’ve run out of places to put them.

♡ has been known to squat when he sees you getting tired and refusing to move until you get on his back so he can carry you.

♡ whenever he wraps his arms around you--usually when he’s spacing out--he pulls you into his chest and rests his chin on your head. his fingers will fiddle with the hem of your shirt and give you goosebumps at the tiny tickles on your skin.

♡ really likes to cuddle. he’s always reaching for you when you sit or lie down together. he wants to pull you into him. he likes to be the big spoon. you always wake up tangled in each others arms.

♡ he always lets you wear his clothes. he actually prefers it when you do. you sleep in his t-shirt. you’ll wear his hoodies. if it’s cold out he’ll take his coat off and wrap you in it. or sometimes he’ll let you wrap your arms around him and then he’ll wrap his coat around the both of you.

♡ he always falls asleep first. he'll have you pulled into his chest as you both watch tv and honestly, like 10 minutes will go by and you'll say something and he wont respond. when you tilt your head up you notice he's already out cold.

♡ and even tho he's asleep, like a superpower he can sense when you move away from him. so if you try to get up, his grip on you tightens and he'll pull you into him, rolling over with you trapped in his arms.

♡ he is always up first too. and he will often times bring you breakfast or coffee in bed. if he has to leave before you, you'll wake to find a hot coffee or tea sitting on your nightstand waiting for you.

♡ he is obsessed with your hair. he's always stroking it, or tucking it behind your ear. he likes to run his fingers through it when you're cuddling or when you're hugging him tightly. he loves when you let him wash it too.

♡ you asked him to brush it for you once while you were getting ready one day and he was just standing there watching you. he did so and was very gentle and took his time. ever since then, he loves when you let him brush your hair. it's such a random but intimate act for him.

NSFW CONTENT BELOW

♡ pleasure dom! he is super dominant in bed but is also really in tune with your body and making sure you're always enjoying yourself. he gets off by getting you off.

♡ he’s really good at making you come. like, you'd think he made it his life's mission to make you feel good. and seeing you in pleasure is what always gets him going. he cant finish unless he watches you finish first.

♡ he’s so good at what he does that he’s been known to get you off over your clothes. it takes him no time at all to make you come if he wants. usually he likes to drag it out tho. and he likes to overstimulate you.

♡ nights will oftentimes consist of you fully naked while he fingers you, having already orgasmed once, and him still fully clothed. something about that power dynamic drives him crazy.

♡ he softly degrades you. “look how fuckin’ desperate you are for me, love” “this what you’ve been thinkin’ bout all day? my fingers thrusting inside you, hm? nothing else going on in that pretty little head of yours.” “oh, com’on princess, you know you have to come at least twice before i’ll give you my cock. so are you gonna be a good girl and come on my tongue one more time? yeah, i know you can handle it.”

♡ likes to hold your hand during sex. he’s eating you out? his hand is laced with one of yours. you’re sucking his dick? he grabs your hand and traces patterns aimlessly, trying not to come too fast. he’s fucking you missionary? either one or both of his hands are locked with yours. he’s fucking you from behind? he’s pulled you up against his chest, covering your hand resting against your stomach with his own.

♡ he likes when you give him blow jobs. and he enjoys praising you during it, watching as you clench your thighs from his panting words.

♡ you’ll have his cock in your mouth and he’s muttering how good you feel. he hunches over, his arms lazily resting over your shoulders, his forehead resting against the top of yours. he’ll groan and grunt, “fuck, baby, that feels so good.” “god, don’t stop, love.” “look what you do to me.” “i’m gonna fuck you so hard after this, baby.”

[mockerycrow]

Hello!!!!!! So i was wonderinfg if you could do a piece for cod mw2? A platonic 141 (other characters can be added if youd like) x (preferably 18-20 yr old) gn or fem reader. It can be a oneshot or headcannons, i dont mind either format!!! If you do a oneshot, any scenario (a mission, off duty, etc) is fine w me!!! You basically have free reign, just keep it strictly platonic, not even a smidge of the hints w the reader and romantic relationships 👍❤️

Ain’t That A Kick In The Head? (Platonic!141 x Fem!Reader)

cod masterlist

A/N: YESS!! I LOVE PLATONIC FICS!! 99% of my writing so far has been romantic, kind of funny considering I’m aromantic and queer. thank you anon <3 i’m also sorry for taking so long. your speciality isn’t specified, but it can’t be demolitions, im sorry!! plot purposes.

[WARNINGS: mentioned misogyny, fluff.]

Considering how young you are, you deal with quite a lot of people who have low expectations for you. To be fair, you don’t have much experience, but you are a quick learner and that’s very much needed on this base. You’re a Specialist, one rank above Private in the U.S. army ranks. When people first meet you, they expect you to be a coward, a twenty year old girl—is what they like to call you—who doesn’t know the difference between a 5.56 mm cartridge and a 7.62 mm cartridge, a clueless little girl. Of course you did not know everything, but it was clear you know enough and have enough skill as you’re apart of the 141.

When you were first picked for the team, Ghost was a bit skeptical. Your age played a big factor because he was concerned about your level of experience, but he overall trusts Price’s judgement. A huge part of it was him worried about how you would take in all of the traumatizing sights they see on every mission. How you would be able to take someone down without a second thought, even if they pleaded for their life. He didn’t voice this worry, nor did he do anything to “shield” you because he knows you know what you signed up for.

You physically train/spar with Ghost and Gaz separately frequently. They are different in size and in style of defense/attack, so they both give you great pointers on how to defend yourself and how to initiate an attack. You have a schedule with them; when you’re on base, you train with Gaz Mondays and Tuesdays and Ghosts on Thursdays, preferably early in the morning with Gaz and in the evening with Ghost. Even when you perfect your own style for attack and defense, you keep training with them; “So you don’t get rusty.”

Price knows what you signed up for, and he knows that he picked you, so like everyone else on the task force, he begins to train you. Being an expert in violence and timing—unconventional warfare too, he occasionally sits in on your training sessions with Gaz and/or Ghost. Sometimes, he talks with Gaz or Ghost beforehand to set up a specific scenario for you to find a way to get out of alive.

Being said, Price takes you out as well as the team to a training field, doing the exact same thing but in a more.. realistic scenario. Being so young, he figures you still have an unacceptable type of response with “fight, flight, or freeze”. His plan is to strip away the freeze response because that’s the one that will get you killed. He also very specifically has himself and your teammates as the enemies in this field because while you’re supposed to trust your team with your life, there’s also often betrayal in the field.

Soap is a demolitions expert, as well as a sniper. He absolutely refuses to let you handle real bombs at first because he knows you didn’t specialize in demolitions like he did. After spending a few months with you, he brings out non-dangerous replicas of bombs and replicated parts to begin to show you how to take a bomb apart/defuse it, when it’s best to let it explode, or how to put one together for emergencies. He absolutely 110% makes sure you know it’s for emergencies when he isn’t there. It’s not that he thinks you’re incapable, but he can’t help but worry. Him learning about how Gaz and Price met, how Price only had seconds to shove the hostage with a bomb vest strapped to him over that railing? Fucking terrifying to him.

Gaz also helps you complete your interrogation training—not being the interrogator, but then interrogatee. Undergoing several mentally challenging tests himself of this variety, he tasks himself with giving you pointers. Your task is to keep your mouth shut about intel and escape the facility and remain hidden, uncaptured during the entire test. He’s so incredibly used to uncomfortable situations, so his pointers during this—seeing that he passed this test himself, the only one who past it in his class—his advice is helpful.

Besides training with Ghost, he coaches you ambushes and stealth. Every time you’re caught in a test, he coaches you on how to evade, on how to remain hidden even when the enemy is right in front of you. He teaches you how to set up traps and ruses, what traps are most commonly used and spotted and what ones aren’t.

Overall, they know you’re inexperienced and young, but you quickly take their advice and training into account, and you get to teach them a thing or two when you arrive on base. You learn quick and Price finally feels as if you’re ready for an intense stealth mission, accompanied by the team. They don’t have any doubt held in their hearts for you, 100% trusting your abilities.

[the-californicationist]

a safe house

(Price/Reader) SFW - But MDNI on my blog please!

“Ghost! How copy? Riley, come in!” Price shouted into his headset. 

You were sending cover fire over the fallen tree that you and your captain were hiding behind. Unfortunately, you’d been separated from the rest of your team. Soap, Ghost, and Gaz were on the other side of the large, icy ravine, and they had done a good job drawing the enemy away from the target zone. Price kept trying to connect, but there was too much snow cover. A nasty blizzard was rolling in, and you needed to find better shelter, quickly. 

“Captain! Enemy has been eliminated. We need to find shelter,” you tried to pull him up off of the ground. 

He looked up at you, frustrated,

“Aye, Corporal, but they’ll be back. We need to find a way to warn the boys.” 

“Look,” you showed him the map on your datapad, “Laswell said there’s an old town…I think she called it Khabnoye? It’s been abandoned for years, about two klicks away. There might be some old technology, radios, whatever. We can reach them on some long-range.”

“Alright, let’s move.”

It was a short distance, but the terrain was brutal due to the snow. You made it there by nightfall, and carefully approached the outskirts of the town, following Price’s lead to scope out possible enemy combatants. There was no one in sight. It truly was a ghost town, and you were justifiably creeped the hell out. 

A small house was mostly intact near the very edge of the town, plenty of empty space around its edges, and only one broken window. You began to sweep the rooms, of which there were only three, noting that its prior occupants had left in quite a hurry sometime in the late 80s. You were fighting a nameless, secret war inside of the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone, so most of the towns you came across were similarly abandoned. 

You stood in the kitchen with Price, catching your breath and unpacking your bag. He was starting up the small, convective space heater checking for high levels of radiation in the room, making sure it was sustainable for the night. 

“Alright, let’s go dark. No lights, no comms until we get a better idea about what happened,” he said in a low voice. 

“Yes, sir. I did get a notification from Soap, but the message is unreadable,” you showed him the datapad before you powered it down. 

He sighed,

“At least we know he’s alive and stable enough to send comms. We’ll work on connecting when this storm blows through.”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Drop the formality, Sparrow. Not spending the whole night listening to your sirs.”

He was upset. The operation was ruined, and he had no idea where his team was or if they were even alive anymore. You said nothing, letting him unpack two MREs and prep the bags for you. You checked the other rooms. There was a tiny, filthy bathroom without running water, and a bedroom with a dingy full mattress without sheets. You set to work arming the windows with night vision motion cameras - much good may it do you with all this snow - and rigged the front door. 

“No use,” Price muttered, digging into his chili and beans MRE, starving.

“Why? You think we’re safe here?”

“No tracks in or out. No trash younger than me, and no pings for ten miles,” he showed you his passive EMP monitor, “Our tracks are covered by now with the storm. They’ll assume we rendezvoused back at the base. It was closer and easier to access.”

“Closer? Why’d you come here then?”

“Base might be compromised,” he shrugged, “Couldn’t reach McTavish, so we can’t assume anything at this point. Might as well get comfortable and wait til morning. This’ll clear once the sun comes out, and we’ll send an AM ping.”

You sighed a breath of pure relief, 

“I know I’ve only been with you guys for a few months, but honestly, I don’t know what’s more impressive, your technology or your level-headedness under insane fire. Feeling very much like the amateur I am, Captain.”

“You handled yourself well out there, little bird. I’m impressed,” his praise rushed through you like adrenaline, and you basked in it. 

“Thanks, Cap,” you smiled, drinking the broth of your soup and packing up your MRE trash into its bag. 

“You smoke cigars, love?”

It was midnight before you even considered going to bed. You and Price had stayed up in the kitchen, smoking and chatting in the dark, only illuminated by the glow of your ashes. The snow fluttered down outside, layering itself on the ground like a pile of white sheets. There’d be at least two feet of it at the door tomorrow morning. 

“...and I got this one in Amsterdam, chasing some smugglers out of the wharf. Motherfucker stabbed me right through the arm. Missed the bones, thank Christ. But, that’s not the bad one.”

You were telling each other stories about your scars, and you were in all states of dress. It was warm with the space heater, and you were comfortable around each other. Aside from admiring the mountainous swell of his shoulders and chest, you tried not to think much of it. He was hot, but he wasn’t interested. You just had a small crush. It would pass. 

Okay, maybe a big crush. But, you had some self-control. 

Some. 

“Oh,” he leaned across the table to get closer and look at your arm, “What was the bad one?”

You blushed, not that he could see it, 

“It’s in a certain spot. Not sure you want to - ”

“Don’t make me beg, little bird,” he smirked, rolling his eyes at your modesty. 

He was right, of course. You weren’t sure why you were shy. 

Liar. You were shy because you had an enormous, filthy crush on your commanding officer. 

You tucked your elbow beneath your shirt and pulled it up over your chest, showing him your sternum,

“This one. It’s a - ”

“Flare burn,” he whispered, his demeanor changing from jovial to serious very quickly. 

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

He was silent for a long time. You watched as Price too a big mouthful of cigar smoke before letting it billow around him, looking like a big, brooding dragon in the quiet room. 

“How’d you get it?” He asked, avoiding your question. 

“Enemy trap. They rigged the door to blow a flare. My vest, all my plate, none of it mattered. The flare burned so hot that it cut right through the gear like butter. If it wasn’t for our medic knowing that he needed to knock it out, I would’ve died. Three weeks in the med bay. It was bad.”

Price reached out slowly, almost as if not to scare you, and touched the circular wound. It wasn’t sexual, but that didn’t stop you from immediately feeling aroused by having his hands on you. You shuddered involuntarily, and he jerked his hand back. The silence in the room was suffocating.

“Sorry, little bird,” he whispered his apology, “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you chuckled, taking a drag of his cigar for yourself, trying to calm down, “Uh, no.”

“What?” He prodded, not realizing what truth he was asking you for.

“It’s nothing, sir,” you stood up from the table, trying to escape, and forgetting you were in a 200 square foot house. 

He stood with you, reaching out to touch your shoulder. You sighed into his contact against your will, feeling the stress of the day melt away as he did. 

“It just…” You tried to throw him a hint, “Feels good, you know. To be touched. Been a long time… sorry, sir.” 

“Told you to swallow those sirs, little bird,” he whispered in a low rumble, putting his other hand on your other shoulder, grabbing you gently. 

There was very little space between your bodies now that you were away from the table, standing in the no-man’s-land between the bed and the kitchenette. It smelled like sweat and tobacco and 1987 in there, and you were breathing hard, nervous and desperate for him to do something to you that he couldn’t take back. 

“Sorry,” you said under your breath, not knowing what else to tell him.

Price lifted your chin up to meet his eyes, grabbing your jaw firmly, but gently. In the blackness of the night, the moon reflected only a little of his icy blue eyes, and the glow from his cigar made his face appear sharp and saurian. You didn’t expect for his touch to be so light. Just hours ago, he’d snapped a man’s neck with these same hands, and now he was passing the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip like you were the petal of an orchid, careful not to bruise you. 

“I’m trying,” his breath was ragged as he confessed, “I promise, I’m trying to let it go, little bird.”

“Let what go?” You put your hands on his hips, trying to steady yourself, feeling dizzy with lust and fear. 

“My desire,” he put his forehead against yours, closing his eyes, struggling, “Turn me away. Please, little bird. End my fucking torment. I’ll never mention it again. I swear it.”

You kissed him, pressing your lips into his chastely but firmly, enjoying the heat and the smoothness of his skin, the smell and the feel of his beard, coated in tobacco smoke and his own sweat. The comforting spice of the chili lingering on his mouth. He breathed in like you’d pressed a hot iron brand into him, blissful pain radiating through his body, pulling you in close to his chest. He deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth against yours, moving your skull with his powerful jaws, leading you, commanding and strong in his desire. 

“Love, don’t… don’t do this. Not unless you mean it. I’m bloody beggin’ you.”

You smiled, resting your nose alongside his, kissing him again slowly and carefully before answering him, 

“I mean it, John. I mean it.”

Reblogs and comments deeply appreciated! <3 <3

AO3 Link

[lxvvie]

ghost hcs pls!!! general, or sfw

You know the three S's of your regular degular morning routine? Yeah, add a fourth S for Simon. For smoking that is.

Isn't really one to splurge on himself. For the most part, his place has the basic necessities, but if it doesn't have anything else, it has good fuckin' bedding, down pillows and all. Simon would much rather have a sleepless night in comfort than not.

He also likes to sleep in total darkness.

Is that one person who keeps a stash of sweets nearby. Is also that one person who looks as if he's pulling them out of thin air. Simon likes to say that they "help keep him alert" but that's bullshit, really. He just has a raging sweet tooth.

The naming conventions in his contacts are based off of personal observations, something memorable they've done, etc. It may be weird but it works for him. For instance, Price is Tea and Grumpets, Soap is Can't Flirt For Shit, and Gaz is Giggles While Pissed.

Calls any and everyone 'sweetheart' or 'kid' like an old fucking man.

His facial hair grows too fast for his liking.

Simon didn't expect to get so fuckin' big as an adult but here we are and he likes it just fine.

When he's in the comfort of his own abode while off duty, Simon usually keeps a cigarette tucked behind his ear.

Soap bought him a weighted blanket so he, too, can join the Soapurrito™ and become... the Ghosturrito™. Simon has yet to use it. May or may not have forgotten he had it at one point, too.

Has a tendency to start and not finish his knitting. As such, he has a shit ton of unfinished projects lying around his place.

If he isn't doing anything job-related, Simon can be found working on his knitting projects sometimes. Calls them his Knit and Smoke sessions. Usually has some music playing as background noise, too.

Said music would have you think he's constantly going through shit when he's... he's not.

Has a neighbor who is a huge football fan but his team is shit apparently. The walls are thin enough to hear him. Simon always gets a chuckle out of hearing him talk shit and complain every time they lose. Reminds him of Johnny.

[fishsticksloser]

Random Ghost HC

Warnings: fluff, he's also a military man who has killed people so...

A/N: I haven't played the game since I was 12 and want to get back into it, but I'm a broke bitch so please bear with me this is purely based off what I've seen. If you don't have anything nice to say, go away. If you have some of your own hc, please share I love reading them :) I'm not "making" him a softy, your likes and dislikes don't make you less manly.

Massive softy. He's like one of those super bulky, scary dudes who will do absolutely anything to see their s/o smile... That's just him

Even without the gear on, he's thicc with more C's than I want to put. He's very sturdy, strong (he's carrying at least 50lbs of equipment, but he's probably actually carrying 150lbs), and wide... Look at his shoulders.

Dog dude. Loves the "dangerous" breeds: German Shepherds, Pitbulls, Cane Corsos, ect. Will literally do anything for them.

Is actually younger than everyone thinks... (141 is about 30-40, except Price and Shepard of course, Gaz is at least 22) War and trauma can affect people in many ways.

Can recount how he got all of his scars and is unashamed of them, just nervous if people see them.

Likes to be alone, either reading or listening to music. Sometimes you can catch him bobbing his head to whatever's playing.

He keeps his room really clean, he claims it's because he's a man, but clean room = clear mind.

True emo, loves "old" emo music, but also enjoys alternative, rock, and Metallica (specifically Metallica)

Goes hiking/on a run when he's upset, it helps him clear his head.

He doesn't like yelling, at or from others. He thinks it's not how arguments or anything should be handled. He's yelled at his team on occasion because the messed up or something, but most of the he'll walk away and cool down.

Pretty big on communication. He's not good with staying how he feels, but he tries his best.

Big on showing he cares (acts of service and quality time). Comes home from a mission to his s/I and will wash dishes, cook, laundry, ect while he's home.

Isn't a fan of PDA, but will have his hands on you when you're alone. Almost always touching you; arms around your waist while cooking, spooning in bed, ect

Smacks your ass every chance he gets. It becomes a game, you have to constantly look over your shoulder to make sure your ass isn't unguarded.

I saw someone say that he's a little weird (they used him eating a lemon as an example but lemons are delicious so...) I think he's a fan of something considered childish whether it's Pokemon, Magic, ect. He loves it, but keeps it hidden.

Calls his s/o "darling," "baby," "love" also if you're married and take his last name, "Mr/Mrs. Riley" he loves the sound of it

Gamer. Another way for him to relax, prefers games like Stardew or Animal Crossing. Calming games. Competitive though... Will beat you at Mario Kart

So gentle. Touching you like your some sort of antique vase, except your ass-smaking game. Gentle with everything that has to do with you (sex kissing, dancing)

Don't tell anyone, but he's a huge romantic. Loves those moments where he can dance in the kitchen with you while you wait for dinner, making you a huge dinner dressing up even though your staying home, he always brings home flowers and your favorite snacks/drinks after a mission.

Doesn't like getting drunk. He doesn't like the feeling he gets or how he acts when he's drunk, but he doesn't mind drinking.

Loud noises are a no go, so no concerts. He already deals with loud noises during missions the last thing he wants is more, it stresses him out.

If you call him your husband (whether you're married or not) he's on the floor, he loves it. He also loves being called "babe," "baby," "honey"

[hunterbunter3000]

I think it's also about the way sweetheart touches them. She's gentle with them, which is something rare for absolutely all of them. Sweetheart doesn't assume because they're in the military that they don't need kindness and support and delicate hands. She knows they already think that they don't deserve anything like that so when she sees them wanting it and craving it, she is so willing to give. Her love cup is so full for her team and the people she cares for.

She handles ghost like he's still just Simon Riley, a sad kid deep down. Sweetheart offers up affection that she can just feel is so foreign to him. Yes he can take care of himself but everybody knows it doesn't extend beyond the basics and she takes time to try to heal his aches and pains that he's gotten so used to living with

She's delicate with price, knowing how hard he's worked to keep the team alive and well. How most of the time, he gets no recognition for his efforts. Sure, she teases him and calls him an old man when he complains about his back but in the same breath is offering a massage to get the ever present knot out

She's attentive with soap, hating how he looks like a sad puppy when people try to brush him off as a loud and brash grown up child. She wants him to hold on to that because she knows if it goes away, he'll seem like a shell of himself. She's seen what too long in the field can do to someone like johnny and how it can change them for the worst so she always encourages his jokes and such.

She helps gaz as much as she can. She sees how he pushes himself and how it sometimes ends up in neglect of himself. How many meals has he missed due to trying to just get one more thing done? How many hours of sleep has he skipped to try to figure something out? With a firm hand, she always guides him into taking care of himself and to give himself a much needed break.

IM RAMBLING IM SORRY

AAA NOOO DONT BE SORRY- DONT EVER BE SORRY FOR RAMBLING THIS IS AMAZING 💖✨️✨️💕

(I'm terribly sorry this took so long- BUT GARRICK'S IS PRETTY LONG SO ITS A WIN WIN-)

But holy cow I agree with this so much

Tw: mentions of depression, insecurities, trust issues

I'm really gonna start with Soap because what you said is her biggest fear. She cares deeply for Mactavish and always pays a little bit more attention to him than the others because of that terror.

It would be a nightmare if she didn't see the life in his eyes anymore. Her heart was already broken when her second uncle came back a zombie from being in the army. Didn't talk to anyone, and if he did he would always snap at them. He loved his family still. He really did. But the happiness, and the compassion was gone. He couldn't let go of the guilt, of the regret he had in his choices. He didn't really talk about it, but when he did Sweetheart could see the black tar oozing out of his mouth. All the internal pain and suffering. She doesn't want to see Soap be like that, since their personalities are quite similar. Fun, chipper, determined and kind. She will protect his internal being with everything she has, just like she did with her uncle. So she will always laugh at his jokes and add on to them, making them both double over. She will always stand up for him when someone calls him loud and brash. Telling him it's okay to express yourself how you want to.

If she fails, if she even sees the shine leave his eyes for a second, she knows she failed her uncle again and will never be the same.

--

Now with Ghost-- GOOAAHHHHDDDD he needs all the hugs and cheek kisses he can get (and really just hugs) he doesn't like to be touched unless he knows you knows you (kinda like König and Roach) it took Sweetheart a WHILEE to get close to Ghost. Yes, he did have a small soft spot for her, but he would NOT let her touch him. It took like five months just to let her touch his shoulder. Because of his insane trust issues and paranoia, he didn't let her get close. He couldn't. He couldn't risk getting hurt from Sweetheart. Kind, charming, thoughtful, Sweetheart. Caring, strong, smart, Sweetheart. He craved for her touch so badly that he knew it was what he needed, but he couldn't handle the pain afterward. But there was no pain when she first hugged him when he came out of that explosion alive. There was no pain when she held his hand through his panic attack. There was just warmth. And love. Through every touch she gave him, it spoke of love and care. She gave him time. She gave him so much patience so he could trust her. So he could love her. And he does.

Price-- that man deserves a hundred medals I swear. As you said, he gets no recognition of his effort from anyone, because that's what he's supposed to do. He's supposed to get everyone out alive, he's supposed to succeed everytime. It's just built in the job with that expectation. But Sweetheart knows in order to keep that kind of task going, he needs support. And my god, does she give it to him. Always patting him on the back and saying good job. Checking for any injuries, and if there are, she would fix them. Listening to anything he's talking about and giving her opinions on it. Giving him some tea and something to eat if he's up late. And just giving him any form of affirmation. He deserves it. He deserves all the support, the back rubs, the massages and the teasing, the tea and the naps, all of it. And Price is so grateful for it. If she wasn't there for him, no one would be.

Kyle. Gaz. Garrick. Goodness, that boy has put so many expectations on himself that NO ONE ELSE has put on him. It's weighing him down. Since he's the youngest and has less experience than everyone else, he thinks that he has to catch up to everyone else or be better than them in order for people to see him. See him being one of the members of Task Force 141. The best of the best, right? Like Sweetheart? How she carries herself through chaos, how she handles dire situations, how well she works with others, how physically, mentally, and emotionally strong she is? Can he be skilled like Sweetheart? Calm and collected like Ghost? Well-armed like Soap? He doesn't know. His insecurities are always getting the best of him, making him forget to brush his teeth. Or eat breakfast. Or even get out of bed. Is he even fit to be on this team? Sweetheart knocks on his door. Is he even worthy? She knocks again. He has so much to catch up on. She opens his door. How will he catch up to them? She sighs, walking towards his curled up figure on his bed. He's in their shadow. Maybe he should leave. Sweetheart comes into his view, shocking him. She has a slight concerning face, but more anger than anything. Angry that he hasn't been taking care of himself. Concerned on why he hasn't been taking care of himself. She grabs his hand and brings it to her lips, closing her eyes. His entire body feels warm. Awake. She breathes in and opens her eyes back up. She urges him to get up. Get up and take a shower. His brain says no, but his body is moving subconsciously. She waits outside the Men's Bath Unit until he's done. She waits for him, quite closely, when he's brushing his teeth; Sweetheart tells him not to forget to brush his molars. She waits for him when he dresses himself in clean clothes, still in the same room as him, just turned. She waits for him to finish eating a big breakfast, which he eats fully. All with silence. All with a neutral face. Yet her actions are firm. Caring. Helpful. She sits him down on his now cleaned bed, the help of Sweetheart, and they just... talk. Talk about what's been going on, talk about why he feels this way, and when. It helps. She's giving her opinions on what he can do to be better, but it's up to him to take them. She sighs, eyes studying him. 'I hope I'm not crossing any boundaries with you. But I couldn't sit aside and let you make yourself disappear. Especially when you're valued as a teammate and a friend.' She says. Gaz feels like crying. And he does. He hugs so tightly. Tight enough that she could feel his appreciation through his touch. He's thankful that she saw him. And she continues to see him.

[doggoboigaugau]

Stray dog (Part 3)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 / Part 5

Pairings: Ghost x Soap x Male Reader

Long story short: my old acc got terminated for no reason so I'm reposting all this💀👍

Summary: Soap invited Male Reader to join Ghost and his favorite documentaries about dinosaur fossils :D (Ghost very loves dinosaurs y'all cannot tell me otherwise).

Word count: 1950

Warnings: Nothing. It's all fluff this time.

You lost track of time and ended up stopping only when your whole body screamed at you to rest. Looking up from the training gears, you realized that there was no one left in the room. It was a habit of you to ignore everyone and everything surrounding you when it is not necessary, or maybe it’s more like a coping mechanism, since this little tricky skill prevented you from taking in redundant information, such as a close group of men joking around with each other.

This very common sight in the military and especially in the training ground always succeeded in rendering you uncomfortable, and a vague but stingy feeling prevails over your chest, sometimes so badly that it even made breathing difficult.

No matter how hard you tried to brush it aside, dismissing it as something trivial and irrelevant, you knew damn well the cause of it: You once wished to belong to a group of friends that were so close that you all would spend time doing everything together, going on mission, training, drinking, and getting drunk together at the bar. Obviously, it had never happened. It never would, judging from how every time it was only you who got left behind, drowning yourself in overpriced alcohol and your own overwhelming emotions.

It was pitch black outside as you left the training centre. You dragged your fatigued body back to the base of your Task Force, but surprisingly, in contrast to your current physical state, your mind felt empty for now. In a good way. No burdening streams of thoughts, not a single fuck given about how others saw you. You felt kind of free.

‘Guess it’s a good point for not being around people.’ On your sweat-strained face drew a genuine smile. Some people would think that it was weird to smile over something like this, not having any close people around you and just spending your entire day loitering around, doing something you considered to be productive but by no means enjoyable. To them, you were not living a life. You were only surviving through it.

Not that you would complain though. Nor were you in the position to be able to complain about it.

Your blurred vision and the dull pain in your chest reminded you that you hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, which was almost 10 hours ago. Slowly making your way to the kitchen, you decided to turn a blind eye to the kitchen sink and approached the fridge, hoping that they’d be kind enough to leave you some leftovers.

What greeted you in the fridge confounded you as you looked at a carefully prepared dish wrapped in aluminum foil with a sticky pink note on top of it.

‘want to call ya 4 dinner earlier but ya seem to enjoy the training a lot. plz eat this when ya done with the training~’ was written on the piece of paper together with a little ugly and distorted heart shape, which made you chuckle. It was not difficult to guess who left this for you. You shook your head in amusement while putting the dish into the microwave oven.

Sitting down at the empty table in the dimly lit dining room, you slowly enjoyed the meal that Soap had saved for you. Then again, amid the quiet atmosphere that was free of any stimulations, your mind began to do the thing that it excelled in, drifting away. Your unusually calm thoughts appeared like a grainy film rolling before your eyes, replaying every delightful moment that you had shared with the Scottish and other team members, like when you, Soap, Gaz, and Roach pulled a whole prank on Price during your team’s vacation while Ghost sat behind and watched with amusement in his eyes. Or when you and Roach hid one of Price’s hats unknowing that it was a piece of memorabilia of his old teammate, and as result, making that poor old dad all stressed out finding it everywhere. Or when Price decided to catch you two and make you face the consequences of your actions that time and you were so scared that you never run that fast out of battle before. Or when you had no choice but to hide behind Ghost as he was watching his favorite boring documentaries, and he looked down at you obviously contemplating whether he should help you or not as you tried to convince him with your big puppy eyes. Or when you disobeyed Price’s orders to turn back and save Soap when he fell into the enemy’s trap and was pushed into the corner.

You laughed to yourself at this point, remembering vividly what a mess that time was. You two almost blindly fired your guns at the swarm of enemies circling you. As you barely escaped, Soap cursed very loudly in Scottish while his hand threw bombs toward your enemies. It was a mission that you would never forget, a piece of memory that you’d take to the grave, not only because of how badly injured you were and the prolonged period of time you had to spend in the hospital, but also because of how Soap looked at you. After that near-death experience, whenever your eyes and his met, his eyes evidently softened, and you enjoyed every little second of it. It made you feel like, eventually, you were special to someone, like you weren’t just anybody, but someone unique that was closely linked to a hardly forgettable remembrance. It raised your hope–something that you had thought to never regain, since at least when you died, there would still be one person who would keep the image of you inside one of their billion fragments of memory.

Of course, after the certain mission, both you and Soap were heavily reprimanded by Kate and Price, you for the obvious reason of disobeying orders, and Soap for his stupid addiction to blowing things up, which worsened you two’s already horrendous injuries because at the time of the explosion you were still too close to the spot.

“What are you smiling about?” You jumped at the sudden voice that broke the room’s silence.

Soap laughed at your reaction, “Why are you so tense?” He sat down, being so near to you that your thighs touched each other. He threw his big muscular arm over your shoulder, grinning broadly, “Temme, what is so fun that you smile like that?”

“It’s nothing.” You blushed at how close you two were, silently praying that the light of the room was too feeble for him to notice.

He pinched your face, causing you to grimace, “I don’t believe ya. It’s so rare to see ya smile so cutely like this. Must have some special reason.”

Definitely you could not tell him that you were thinking of the team, and especially him, so you decided to keep silent and enjoy your meal. Maintaining eye contact was like torture to you, so your eyes were just glued to the plate until you finished. Therefore, you also missed his eyes, along with how he looked at you.

From Soap’s point of view, all that he could see at that moment was how lovely his boy was. The way his big puppy eyes widened when he suddenly talked. The way his body which was athletic but so slender when compared to Soap’s trembled slightly as he jumped. How the faint blush quickly deepened and then spread from his handsome adorable face to his delicate neck. The nice and warm feeling that Soap’s fingers felt when he pinched the boy’s cheek. And also how his long eyelashes shadowed his eyes as he looked down at his plate of food. It was so lovely that Soap volunteered to be trapped in this moment forever.

As you’d done eating and washing the dish, you came back into the dining room and saw Soap still sitting there.

The Scot chuckled at your expression, “What is that face, Y/n? Are you that annoyed because I’m still here?”

You unknowingly pouted, which only made you look even cuter in his eyes, “No.”

“Ghost is watching his stupid boring documentaries again. Wanna join?”

“You came here from the TV room?”

“Yeah. Now do you come or not?”

You scoffed, “Are you inviting me nicely or just gonna coerce me into it anyway?”

Soap didn’t reply, just amusingly shrugged his shoulders.

“Fine, I’ll come.”

“That’s my boy!” The older man approached you, then threw his arm over your shoulder again. Judging from how you barely kept up with his pace in this awkward position, he definitely coerced you into this by all means.

When you two arrived, the light in the TV room was turned off, and the only source of light left was the TV screen. Ghost was sitting on the sofa alone, eyes glued to the screen that was playing some kind of dinosaur fossils, while Price was sleeping in his favorite spot–the single couch. You swiftly looked around to see if Gaz and Roach were here or not, only to find the two idiots hugging each other on the carpet, drooling and snoring loudly.

Ghost turned his head to look at you and Soap as you were literally pushed into the room by the Scot. His out-of-nowhere eagerness strangely made you laugh.

“Daddy chill.” You jokingly said and sat down beside Ghost, completely overlooking how Soap’s flippant expressions froze for brief seconds.

“Finished your dinner?” Ghost suddenly spoke up.

You were taken aback simply because the masked man hardly ever cared what others were doing with their life outside of missions, particularly for some trivial things like taking care of your daily needs.

“Y-yes, Sir!”

Soap burst into laughter, so hard that he fell to your side, hugging his belly.

“LMAO! What was that, Y/n??? You’re scared of Ghost that much???”

“What? What???” You frowned in confusion. You were even more confused when you heard a soft chuckle from the masked man that was sitting on your left.

“Why are you two laughing? There’s nothing funny!”

“It is funny! Do you see how you shudder like a puppy under Ghost’s glare? I wish I had recorded it!”

“Gosh! I hate you Soap!” You growled under your breath as you launched your whole body into him while Soap was still barely able to put himself together from his stupid sense of humor.

You two soon began to fight each other, giggling like two mischievous kids, completely forgetting that there was Ghost right next to you, who probably got accidental punches and kicks continuously by the unaware manchildren. However, the masked man was not mad at you two for disturbing him from enjoying his favorite show at all; instead, he often stole glances at you two with pure delight in his eyes. Seeing you finally being able to relax among the team was a sight that he wanted to witness all his life. It would take more time for you to pull down the walls you had built around yourself and let them come inside, but for now, this was already enough.

After a while, the giggling and fighting noises abated. You were sleeping soundly, face on Soap’s broad chest and arms around his waist. Soap’s eyes softened as he looked at how peaceful you were at the moment, before looking up to meet Ghost’s. The two men stayed in their position, didn’t move an inch, until Soap fell his eyelids become heavier and fell asleep as well, and Ghost turned off the TV, thereby extinguishing the only source of light in the room. He rested his head on your lower back, slowly drifting off.

To be continued...

[xo-cod]

I absolutely adore your hyperfem!reader I cab totally see her making bakes for everyone and picking up coffee (and tea) in the morning and of course she knows all their orders by heart because that’s just who she is

thank you sm love :") <33

and it comes naturally w hyperfem reader <33 seeing each of them work themselves to the bone day in and day out, they come to appreciate the small things you do for then. when it's just between you and him, no other interruptions.

especially in the morning when all of them are sleep deprived and gearing up to prepare for the field, no matter how missions they partake in the threat of their lives at risk never gets old. still this time is different when they wake up

price takes his tea with a warm smile on his lips, his hands reaching out for a side hug. only this hug allows you to be buried into his side while he gently squeezes you. he's captain, his team are calling his name but he always stops to thank you genuinely whenever he can. sometimes by words, other times by actions

ghost is a man of actions, he appreciates you more than words can say. he holds his tea but his touch is lingering, his fingers coming out to stroke your skin softly and standing so close to you it could technically be considered a hug lmao. he's too tired to do much but you always notice his appreciation

gaz smiles softly, his arms coming on your shoulders to pull you in for a cuddle. he would take these moments over gifts any day, he loves it all. and he always makes sure to repay you the favour back no matter what, it melts his heart every single time he sees that you've made his tea the way he likes it. cannot help but give you a few kisses and gentle squeezes

the fact that you know johnny's coffee order makes him so :( he didn't think he would ever find someone to do the little things for him and he greatly appreciates it every single time. his energy is low and he's not much in a chatty mood in the early morning but he always bundles you in a sweet hug, a gentle kiss to your forehead while he sips on his coffee

mornings are always busy and silent but they always cling onto the quiet moments where the love lies right underneath, it always starts their day off right <33

[fandomsonrequests]

More filipino tf 141 reader hcs

Yes-- some more HCs because my little Filo heart wants more. Teensy tiny bit of religious themes and a dick joke ahead

If the others call you by your real name– you go by your middle name/mother’s maiden name: Bonifacio. The reason why is that your surname is Batungbakal– and your friend made a dick joke out of it when you were in elementary and you didn’t want to be stuck with that nickname BSHJKSSNMS

The whole Task Force + Los Vaqueros was initially so confused when you pointed at things with your lips. Like– did you want a kiss? Did your mouth hurt?? Gaz was a little embarrassed and flushed about this because he’s a little bean i love him sm gaz my beloved ;^; Soap made a joke about kissing you and you’re just– “NO– i was pointing at the tarmac over there–”

You help Ghost stitch up and fix his masks. He still doesn’t take it off around you, he just wears the extra ones, but allowing you to help mend his masks is a huge and intimate action in itself. And in turn, he helps you make your own mask– like the ones in Red Team 141. The mask is inspired by your callsign, Aswang, with large pointy teeth and a painted tongue. You scared the shit out of the rest of the team the first time you wore it

If you’re sent out on a mission you, Alejandro, and Rodolfo say a little prayer. Sometimes you or one of the two hold onto a rosary as you do so. If you’re not particularly religious– it's just something you do out of habit, especially since growing up, your lola (grandma) made you pray the rosary with her. A safety blanket and a reminder of home if you will. 

Being invited to a Carne Asada by the Los Vaqueros. Many of the tios and tias as well as other family members talk to you in Spanish, thinking that you’re an old friend who grew up in Las Almas. You’re not super fluent in it but you know enough to respond– albeit slowly. Alejandro or Rudy have to explain that you’re Filipino. You enjoy it nonetheless! The spicy food may take some getting used to but it makes you feel happy. 

Giving TF 141 + Los Vaqueros Filipino nicknames: Soap? It’s either Sabon or Jon-Jon– no exceptions. JM (John MacTavish) if you feel more playful. You still call Gaz by Gaz– but you don’t call him Kyle. You call him Kiel. You’re too scared to call Ghost by a Filipino nickname cos you’re not sure if you’re gonna get dropkicked to the ground or survive the whole ordeal. But if you did– its a special nickname: Simoun (named after the El Fili character cos he’s just as ruthless and mysterious).  Alejandro is Andoy or Anding. There’s no real reason behind it– it’s just how Filipino nicknames work. Rudy is actually similar to the Filipino nickname for Rodolfo. But instead of Rudy its Roddy. Sometimes you call him Dolphy after the Filipino comedian with the same name.  Price remains as Itay or ‘Tay, you care for him that much. But for the Price simps out there, you call him Mahal. It’s a play on words which means “love” but also means “expensive”

[foap-enjoyer]

Drugging | Sick | Poisoned

Sick.

'Soap thinks he's got just a simple cold. Nope. Anyway, cue blizzard safehouse one bed trope because I'm lazy'

Trigger warnings for this prompt: Vomit. Ships for this prompt: Sort of the start of Ghoap? Ghost is very affectionate, more or less.

The one my lovely tumblr people voted on all those days ago! :)

Read it here, on AO3: Ouch. - Chapter 5 - Tsukuyomi_Ravioli - Call of Duty (Video Games) [Archive of Our Own]

~

Missions in Russian mountains were becoming way too common. 

At least, that’s what Soap thought.

There were positives to mountain missions, he supposed. There were positives to everything. A beautiful view; clean, fresh, untouched air. Sometimes, on long missions, he would even see rare wildlife, animals which had never seen a human before. They would peer at him through the brush, eyes bright and curious. Sometimes, some would even come over, eat a bite of whatever he had on offer before scrambling away. He liked those pros.

But the cons? Well those fucking sucked. The cold, firstly. The cold sucked- oh, and don’t forget the lack of signal, which meant no far-lined comms, no phones, no nada. Just him, his team, and a shit ton of snow, usually for days at a time. It could drive even the most social of men insane.

Oh, and to top it off, as a little added bonus for this mission, because that’s just how he rolls- he was sick. Not super sick, mind you. It’d started off as a cold, when he’d woken up pre-mission. At least, he assumed it was. Itchy throat, ugly cough, his usual first symptoms. 

In his childhood, he would have curled up into a tiny, sniffling ball and let his mammy hold him, and soothe the pain away just with her touch. But now, he was a fully grown man. A grown man who worked in a job that, unlike being a student in school, would not tolerate a day off. Especially for something as small as a cold.

So, brushing his teeth, tying his laces, and grabbing his bag, he went out to face the day head on. Like a soldier would.

~

He really wished he was still seven, still at home with his mum.

This… cold was no fucking cold. This was a parasite worming its way into every orifice of his body, a disease spreading through his blood, an alien forcing itself inside his chest, taking control of every nerve and joint and muscle until he was nothing but mush.

Fucking cold his ass. If this was a cold, maybe it was time to retire, because he clearly was getting too old for this shit.

The harshness of the Russian wilderness didn’t help his case one bit. 

They’d landed at their respective drop-off points. Price and Gaz were on the complete opposite side of the mountains to him and Ghost, and the plan was to meet in the middle, where he and Gaz would infiltrate the government-owned set of buildings as Price and Ghost ran overwatch on the outskirts. A simple enough plan, until the blizzard hit.

“You’re telling me that higher-ups can plan entire wars to a T, if they wanted to, but they can’t check the fucking weather?”

That was Gaz, voice static-y through the comms. He sounded pissed, and of course he was, he was allowed to, given their situation. Hell, Soap was too. Price sighed, and Soap could imagine him rolling his eyes at the younger man, “There’s nothing we can do about it, Sergeant, so quit whining. Ghost?”

Ghost was behind him, using his path through the heaps of snow surrounding them to guide himself, and his sniper-kit through the rocky terrain. He could hear the man grunt as he lugged the heavy bag over a large rock in their path. “Yeah, Cap?”

“There should be a little safehouse just a few klicks North of your position. Fancy taking a wander over there? Can’t do shit if this storm keeps up like this.”

Ghost grasped Soap’s shoulder, altering his course slightly up the hill, rather than downwards. Soap’s knees wobbled with exhaustion, but he didn’t have much of a choice. Back up they go. “We’ll take a look. What’re you two doing?”

“Cap’s looking now, says there’s a cave nearby.” Gaz huffed out a laugh, “At least you guys get an actual house.”

Soap chuckled softly, his teeth chattering together like a talkative parrot, “Send me a pic if you find a bear in there, Kyle, would you? You know they’re my favourite animal.”

“Will do, prick.”

The comms silenced soon after. Soap assumed it was because, like them, Gaz and Price were having to hike a while to get to their location. The mountains weren’t the steepest, deadliest of mountains, but in a blizzard as bad as this one, you needed full concentration. 

The wind was at its peak now, whistling through the canyons of the snowy wilderness, spiking him right through his clothing with its cold crystals of air and ice. If it weren’t for his deathly grip onto the passing uncovered roots of mountain-grown trees, he’s certain he would have fallen right off of the cliff-face by now. 

He felt numb, his whole body was ice-cold. He was trembling, at least, which was a good thing. Meant his body was still working. Ghost was still behind him, lagging behind slightly, preoccupied with lugging his bags as well as checking their location. When he’d last trusted himself enough to look back, the man had been busy checking a little grey piece of technology, the blue light reflecting in his snow-white mask. 

He knew that the little ipod-like thing hadn’t initially been supposed to be used to find this supposed safehouse, but rather help Ghost angle himself correctly when it came to overwatch protection. For later in the mission. At least higher-ups had been courteous enough to give them some form of direction in case of an emergency.

“Should be over this last hill!” Ghost startled him with his shout, even if he barely heard it over the wind. A hand clasped his shoulder when he stumbled, startled, and he could see a gloved finger in his peripheral, pointing in said direction. When Ghost spoke next, his voice was in his ear. “Through those trees.”

He nodded.

Another twenty, maybe thirty minutes, and they finally, finally came upon the house. If he was honest, it was more of a glorified shed, maybe. At least from a distance. No windows, one door, a little wooden building sat nestled between a few cut-down stumps of previous trees. Maybe the wood used to make it? Probably. 

The door had been locked, but a sharp boot to the lock had solved that issue. Their fingers were too numb to pick the lock anyway. 

Inside, it wasn’t too bad. There was a little fireplace, a sofa- actually no, it was a pullout sofa-bed, actually. In the other room, the only other room, a tiny kitchen. That was it, really. It wasn’t the worst safehouse he’d seen (he’d give that to the one he’d stumbled into, half stabbed, in Romania a few years back), but it wasn’t the best either. It didn’t even have a bathroom!

Ghost got to work as soon as the door was closed behind them. He shuffled forward, dumping his kit on the floor as he began shedding his clothes piece-by-piece, dumping them onto the back of the sofa-bed. He was in the middle of taking his shoes off before he peered up at Soap, confused. “Johnny?”

He blinked. “Yeah?”

“Clothes.”

He blinked again, before nodding, fingers trembling, fumbling for his coat’s zipper, “Yeah, gotcha.”

“No inappropriate joke today, Sergeant?”

He shook his head tiredly, “Too fuckin’ cold, LT.”

A soft huff of a laugh, and Ghost placed his boots against a nearby wall, tugging his soggy, icy mask off. Frost clung to his eyelashes, and calloused fingers rubbed at them. Once the majority of the white was gone from the hairs, Ghost’s eyes were on him again, eyebrow curled, “Soap?”

Oh. He was staring again. He shook his head, going back to fumbling with his stuff. “Sorry.”

If Ghost was worried, he didn’t say anything about it. “I’m gonna go look at the kitchen for some food.” He said instead, “You get the fire going when you can. You’re right, it’s fucking freezing.”

He watched as the man turned his back and waltzed into the kitchen. Which, technically, was simply an extension of the living room. All that separated them was a tiny archway, after all.

Once he finally got his coat off, and tossed onto the floor, was when his body began to fail him.

“Ghost…?”

“Yeah?” Ghost turned, peering at him from the other room, his eyes dark in the dim lighting of the safehouse. “What’s up?”

“I don’t…” He swallowed harshly. The room was beginning to spin violently, and he reached a hand out desperately to clutch onto the nearest object, that being the sofa. “I don’t feel so good…”

“Johnny?” Ghost’s voice was starting to fade out as he fought to keep himself upright. 

Something was buzzing under his skin, warm and itchy. Sweat pooled against his neck. He had been cold only a moment ago, freezing, even… What was wrong with him? “Simon?”

A hand on his shoulder, “I’m here.”

“I think…” His stomach coiled, and he squeezed his eyes shut with a soft hiccup, “‘m gonna be sick.”

“Alright, alright.” Simon’s hands wrapped around him, guiding him forward, towards the small kitchen. But as soon as his hand released its deathly grip on the sofa, Soap’s knees gave in. 

He would have hit the floor if it weren’t for Simon, who took his weight with a grunt, barely managing to move them forward off of carpet and onto tile before Soap vomited.

“Easy, Johnny,” He could hear Simon attempt to soothe as he retched, fully held up in the older man’s arms. He felt limp, boneless, “Easy.”

His world continued to spin violently as he heaved, the cold tile on his knees sharply contrasting the horrible burning sensation consuming him whole. He whimpered, trying to squirm away from the heat inside him. Simon just held him tighter. “It’ll be over soon.”

“I-” He retched again, dry heaving over a steadily growing pile of vomit. His eyes stung, and he choked on a sob. “Fuck-”

A hand pressed into his forehead. “You’re burning up…” Simon muttered softly, “Fuck, Johnny, why didn’t you tell me?”

He hiccuped, turning to press his head under the crook of Simon’s neck. He was crying, he could feel the familiar wet warmth soaking into the fabric of Simon’s shirt. He wanted to apologise, but breathing was hard enough at the minute. His hands, trembling, clutched onto Simon wherever he could get a good grip, circling around the man’s back, holding tight. 

He swore a kiss pressed into his hair. He swore it. “You’re alright, I got you.” Simon’s voice was firm, and yet it was laced with worry. They were both hardened soldiers, he shouldn’t be sobbing like this over a simple sickness. It had to be something more, right? After a moment,  “Do you still feel sick?”

He shook his head.

“Okay.” Simon took a moment to think, to breathe. Soap. “Okay. I’m going to move you to the sofa, and then clean this up. Think you can move?”

He shook his head again. His knees felt like jelly, if he got up, he’d most definitely fall right back down.

“It’s alright,” Simon murmured, “I’ll carry you.”

With a quick rearrange of arms, followed by a soft grunt, Simon lifted him up. Instinctively, Soap clutched close, squeezing his eyes shut once more as his head spun. As soon as Simon settled him onto the sofa only inches away, he brought a hand up to his mouth, dry heaving into his palm once more. No vomit, this time.

A hand rubbed at his back. “Easy.” A hand in his hair. He leaned against it tiredly as Simon helped him lean backwards onto the old cushions. “Just breathe. It’ll help.”

As soon as he was sitting comfortably, the hands were gone. His eyes cracked open, looking around. Simon had just… disappeared.

“Si’?” He croaked, anxiety coiling. He hadn’t heard him leave, where was he? “Right here.” A damp cloth touched his forehead, and moments later the man was back in view, kneeling down in front of him. A bowl was given to Soap, settled in his lap neatly. “If you’re sick again.”

“Oh.” He rasped. Yeah, of course Simon would think to go grab something. 

A glass of water was offered next. His hands reached out shakily to take it, but Simon didn’t let go, instead holding the glass steady as Soap brought it to his lips, taking small sips. He pulled it away a moment later. “Not too much.” He reminded Soap, “It’ll make you throw up.”

He hummed tiredly. “I know.”

“Now you’re not puking your guts up.” The glass was placed onto a nearby old, dusty coffee table. Simon’s eyes were on him not long after. “Care to explain why you thought it was a good idea to come out on a mission when you were feeling like shit?”

“I didn’t feel bad this morning.” Which was true. Sort of. It’d, mostly, come on suddenly. “Once I felt sick, we were already off.”

“You could’ve still told someone.” Simon’s voice was soft, but firm. “Price, Gaz, me, hell, even the pilots. Anyone, Soap.”

“Sorry.” He whispered tiredly. “Wasn’t thinking.”

“I can’t get a hold of Price.” That woke him a little. “Signal’s shit. Blizzard is practically snowing us in, I think.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Simon sighed, hand reaching up to brush some blonde, stray strands behind his ear. “But we’ve got a while before we’ll need to check back in. So, we’ll just hunker down. Feel like eating?”

He shook his head. Simon’s eyes softened. “You need to, Johnny.”

He shook his head again, eyes drooping slightly. “‘M tired.”

“Alright.” Simon relented, biting his lip. “Alright. I’ll… We can eat later?”

He nodded. That worked. 

“You take the sofa,” Simon went to move, “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

He reached out, grasping his wrist. “We can share.” He murmured, exhausted. “It’s a sofa-bed.”

“Yeah, like a single bed.” The older man huffed, “I can take the floor.”

He didn’t let go of the man’s wrist. Simon didn’t pull away, either. “Just sleep here.” He yawned, “‘S easier.”

There was a pause, before a soft; “You’re not gonna puke on me, are you?”

He chuckled, eyes already closed, “Only if you snore.”

[miwaqrsp]

Some very short cod headcanons cuz why not

Starting of w

Ghost Simon Riley:

Rides a Scrambler Ducati.

Fucker wears glasses.

I’m talkin he can’t see bs when reading

Snores like a fuckin chainsaw

Just gonna say rq idfc if ppl get offended but:

He’s in his early/mid thirties abt 33 sumn like that

John “Soap” Mactavish

Flexes his engine on his mt07 when others are around cause “Its too bloody damn loud”

Brought a whole ass mini owen to base bc there isn’t a fuckin kitchen to be used properly on the base

2am ramen is a must

Kind of like Simon he also wears glasses except for he doesn’t have that much of a shitty eyesight when it comes to reading.

For someone who’s only thirty people think that he’s older. And gets extremely offended if someone says that he looks old

Gaz Kyle Garrick:

Unlike anyone from this list he actually is fairly scared of bikes and isn’t scared to admit it.

Steals Simons tea bags sometimes.

Just like Johnny he’s thirty but the only difference is that everyone is always surprised bc to them Kyle looks like he’s no more then 27/28yo

Is the one who calls Johnny old

He has a Switch and plays Animal Crossing religiously

Roach Gary Sanderson:

Ghost calls him “old man”

Gets offended by it cause he’s only 2 year older then Ghost.

Rides a Triumph Daytona 675 and flexes even more on the others. Meanwhile Gaz is covering his ears and praying he would stop (he does quickly but likes to do it for shits and giggles), Soap is being a lil jealous and Ghost is crossing his hands and signing while Price is just takin a hit out of his cigar.

He’s very friendly toward the newbies and will pull jokes here and there that are actually funny.

Has a tendency to steal Prices bucket hats and not return them until he sees Price being bat shit pissed.

John Price:

When he was a teen Nikolai introduced him to the world of motorcycles. But shortly after he got into a reallyyyyh bad accident so he stopped riding sport bikes so he chose to ride a Harley cruiser…(bad choice if ya ask me)

If anyone dares to prank him, he will bring the whole team into his office and will smoke at least two cigars and make the whole team suffocate

Has a “#best dad” mug. Swear he doesn’t use it but the coffee stains from the inside say otherwise

No matter how much Gaz says he’s Prices favorite. It’s unlikely cause his favorite is our Middle Eastern Queen Farah 💗

As you could’ve realized I am a huge motorcycle fan and I am a biker myself so yeah I also had to incorporate some of my biker knowledge into this. Also I rarely see people write abt Roach 😭😭😭 why’s that. I need me some more Roach hcs or x reader ffcs

[wxnheart]

On today's episode of "My Simpin' Ass Friend Asks... Non-Horny Ass Questions": Alcohol and Uno featuring your faves in 141.

Capt. John Price - Is like that one dad and/or uncle who takes card games seriously with his cigar dangling from his lips. Keeps getting fucked over by Gaz... and Alex sometimes. But mostly Gaz. Thinks this is all a ploy by his protégé to piss him off and bring out his old-man mannerisms. He's... mostly right.

Gaz - Is the mastermind behind all of this because why not? Roped Alex and Soap into it. Price thinks he rigged the game somehow because he (Price) was dealt a shitty hand but he doesn't have proof. Yet. Is a little tipsy and when he gets tipsy he tends to giggle, which Price notices every time it's his turn and then Gaz comes around to fuck him over yet again. GODDAMNIT, GAZ!

Ghost - Is pissed at Johnny the entire time because he, too, is giggling like an idiot with you... because he's showing you his hand. The same hand that's fucking HIM over. Johnny is also a little tipsy, tipsier than Gaz, and when he's tipsy he's very affectionate and his inner golden retriever pretty boy nature has multiplied times a thousand. Simon is also losing horribly. Thanks to you and Soap. Johnny is such a team player though, reassuring Ghost and clasping his shoulder good-naturedly even though the older man wants to throttle him. Why the fuck did he even agree to this again?

Soap - Pregamed with Gaz and Alex and is having the time of his life. You and Johnny are double-teaming Ghost and every time he glares at y'all when it's Johnny's turn, you can't help but laugh. Soap's hand has more Draw Twos than it absolutely should. Also has the cutest drunk giggle. You two group hug with Ghost afterward as a gesture of good faith and camaraderie and all that shit. Well, you two are hugging Simon. He's just sitting there like a statue and rolling his eyes. Gaz captures the moment on camera and is officially on Ghost's shitlist for the time being.

Alex Keller - Drunk as a skunk. The one who's throwing cards down all willy-nilly and shit, thinking he's doing something. He isn't. The one who called Uno Out first and walked away like a fucking boss but was too drunk to realize that he, in fact, was not Uno Out.

Farah - Has the spirit but isn't really too invested in the game. It is this same spirit that helps her win the game, funnily enough. Is entertained by everyone's antics, too, especially Alex's. It gives her a good story to tell later on down the line.

[the-californicationist]

he finds a safe house

You and your captain have lost communication with the rest of the team in a terrible blizzard. When you stumble upon a ghost town, you take refuge in a safe house...and each other.

TW: scars, one bed (ish)

AO3 Link

“Ghost! How copy? Riley, come in!” Price shouted into his headset. 

You were sending cover fire over the fallen tree that you and your captain were hiding behind. Unfortunately, you’d been separated from the rest of your team. Soap, Ghost, and Gaz were on the other side of the large, icy ravine, and they had done a good job drawing the enemy away from the target zone. Price kept trying to connect, but there was too much snow cover. A nasty blizzard was rolling in, and you needed to find better hiding spot, quickly. 

“Captain! Enemy has been eliminated. We need to find shelter,” you tried to pull him up off of the ground. 

He looked up at you, frustrated,

“Aye, Corporal, but they’ll be back. We need to find a way to warn the boys.” 

“Look,” you showed him the map on your datapad, “Laswell said there’s an old town…I think she called it Khabnoye? It’s been abandoned for years, about two klicks away. There might be some old technology, radios, whatever. We can reach them on some long-range.”

“Alright, let’s move.”

It was a short distance, but the terrain was brutal due to the snow. You made it there by nightfall, and carefully approached the outskirts of the town, following Price’s lead to scope out possible enemy combatants. There was no one in sight. It truly was a ghost town, and you were justifiably creeped the hell out. 

A small house was mostly intact near the very edge of the town, plenty of empty space around its edges, and only one broken window. You began to sweep the rooms, of which there were only three, noting that its prior occupants had left in quite a hurry sometime in the late 80s. You were fighting a nameless, secret war inside of the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone, so most of the towns you came across were similarly abandoned. 

You stood in the kitchen with Price, catching your breath and unpacking your bag. He was starting up the small, convective space heater checking for high levels of radiation in the room, making sure it was sustainable for the night. 

“Alright, let’s go dark. No lights, no comms until we get a better idea about what happened,” he said in a low voice. 

“Yes, sir. I did get a notification from Soap, but the message is unreadable,” you showed him the datapad before you powered it down. 

He sighed,

“At least we know he’s alive and stable enough to send comms. We’ll work on connecting when this storm blows through.”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Drop the formality, Sparrow. Not spending the whole night listening to your sirs.”

He was upset. The operation was ruined, and he had no idea where his team was or if they were even alive anymore. You said nothing, letting him unpack two MREs and prep the bags for you. You checked the other rooms. There was a tiny, filthy bathroom without running water, and a bedroom with a dingy full mattress without sheets. You set to work arming the windows with night vision motion cameras - much good may it do you with all this snow - and rigged the front door. 

“No use,” Price muttered, digging into his chili and beans MRE, starving.

“Why? You think we’re safe here?”

“No tracks in or out. No trash younger than me, and no pings for ten miles,” he showed you his passive EMP monitor, “Our tracks are covered by now with the storm. They’ll assume we rendezvoused back at the base. It was closer and easier to access.”

“Closer? Why’d you come here then?”

“Base might be compromised,” he shrugged, “Couldn’t reach McTavish, so we can’t assume anything at this point. Might as well get comfortable and wait til morning. This’ll clear once the sun comes out, and we’ll send an AM ping.”

You sighed a breath of pure relief, 

“I know I’ve only been with you guys for a few months, but honestly, I don’t know what’s more impressive, your technology or your level-headedness under insane fire. Feeling very much like the amateur I am, Captain.”

“You handled yourself well out there, little bird. I’m impressed,” his praise rushed through you like adrenaline, and you basked in it. 

“Thanks, Cap,” you smiled, drinking the broth of your soup and packing up your MRE trash into its bag. 

“You smoke cigars, love?”

It was midnight before you even considered going to bed. You and Price had stayed up in the kitchen, smoking and chatting in the dark, only illuminated by the glow of your ashes. The snow fluttered down outside, layering itself on the ground like a pile of white sheets. There’d be at least two feet of it at the door tomorrow morning. 

“...and I got this one in Amsterdam, chasing some smugglers out of the wharf. Motherfucker stabbed me right through the arm. Missed the bones, thank Christ. But, that’s not the bad one.”

You were telling each other stories about your scars, and you were in all states of dress. It was warm with the space heater, and you were comfortable around each other. Aside from admiring the mountainous swell of his shoulders and chest, you tried not to think much of it. He was hot, but he wasn’t interested. You just had a small crush. It would pass. 

Okay, maybe a big crush. But, you had some self-control. 

Some. 

“Oh,” he leaned across the table to get closer and look at your arm, “What was the bad one?”

You blushed, not that he could see it in the darkness, 

“It’s in a certain spot. Not sure you want to - ”

“Don’t make me beg, little bird,” he smirked, rolling his eyes at your modesty. 

He was right, of course. You weren’t sure why you were shy. 

Liar. You were shy because you had an enormous, filthy crush on your commanding officer. 

You tucked your elbow beneath your shirt and pulled it up over your chest, showing him your sternum,

“This one. It’s a - ”

“Flare burn,” he whispered, his demeanor changing from jovial to serious very quickly. 

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

He was silent for a long time. You watched as Price too a big mouthful of cigar smoke before letting it billow around him, looking like a big, brooding dragon in the quiet room. 

“How’d you get it?” He asked, avoiding your question. 

“Enemy trap. They rigged the door to blow a flare. My vest, all my plate, none of it mattered. The flare burned so hot that it cut right through the gear like butter. If it wasn’t for our medic knowing that he needed to knock it out, I would’ve died. Three weeks in the med bay. It was bad.”

Price reached out slowly, almost as if not to scare you, and touched the circular wound. It wasn’t sexual, but that didn’t stop you from immediately feeling aroused by having his hands on you. You shuddered involuntarily, and he jerked his hand back. The silence in the room was suffocating.

“Sorry, little bird,” he whispered his apology, “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you chuckled, taking a drag of his cigar for yourself, trying to calm down, “Uh, no.”

“What?” He prodded, not realizing what truth he was asking you for.

“It’s nothing, sir,” you stood up from the table, trying to escape, and forgetting you were in a 200 square foot house. 

He stood with you, reaching out to touch your shoulder. You sighed into his contact against your will, feeling the stress of the day melt away as he did. 

“It just…” You tried to throw him a hint, “Feels good, you know. To be touched. Been a long time… sorry, sir.” 

“Told you to swallow those sirs, little bird,” he whispered in a low rumble, putting his other hand on your other shoulder, grabbing you gently. 

There was very little space between your bodies now that you were away from the table, standing in the no-man’s-land between the bed and the kitchenette. It smelled like sweat and tobacco and 1987 in there, and you were breathing hard, nervous and desperate for him to do something to you that he couldn’t take back. 

“Sorry,” you said under your breath, not knowing what else to tell him.

Price lifted your chin up to meet his eyes, grabbing your jaw firmly, but gently. In the blackness of the night, the moon reflected only a little of his icy blue eyes, and the glow from his cigar made his face appear sharp and saurian. You didn’t expect for his touch to be so light. Just hours ago, he’d snapped a man’s neck with these same hands, and now he was passing the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip like you were the petal of an orchid, careful not to bruise you. 

“I’m trying,” his breath was ragged as he confessed, “I promise, I’m trying to let it go, little bird.”

“Let what go?” You put your hands on his hips, trying to steady yourself, feeling dizzy with lust and fear. 

“My desire,” he put his forehead against yours, closing his eyes, struggling, “Turn me away. Please, little bird. End my fucking torment. I’ll never mention it again. I swear it.”

You kissed him, pressing your lips into his chastely but firmly, enjoying the heat and the smoothness of his skin, the smell and the feel of his beard, coated in tobacco smoke and his own sweat. The comforting spice of the chili lingering on his mouth. He breathed in like you’d pressed a hot iron brand into him, blissful pain radiating through his body, pulling you in close to his chest. He deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth against yours, moving your skull with his powerful jaws, leading you, commanding and strong in his desire. 

“Love, don’t…don’t do this. Not unless you mean it. I’m bloody beggin’ you.”

You smiled, resting your nose alongside his, kissing him again slowly and carefully before answering him, 

“I mean it, John. I mean it.”

[pricescigar]

Bad Ass Y/N HC's

Requested by: @emtynessinmyworld

Description: Can you maybe do headcanon about TF-141 and König with really terrifying and badass Y/n?

Y/n is beyond dedicated and emotionless towards gruesome methods of defeating enemies. ALWAYS prefers to work alone and almost never speaks to the point that some people think they are mute.

(NO SPECIFED GENDER, FOR EVERYONE TO ENJOY)

CW: Methods and description of torture, blood and gore

Task Force 141 ;

Captain Jonathan Price 🚬

Of course the Captain had read your file before you joined his Task Force, yet he already heard many things about you.

Price understands that if people prefer to work alone, he does too but even then... A lone wolf always needs it's pack to fight sometimes.

"Not much of a speaker? That's fine." He didn't care if they spoke or not, as long the job always got done. The Captain was happy, but at first he did think you was mute.

And talk about doing the job correctly... Price most of the time is caught of guard a little more or less.

He finds your way of interrogations and killing enemies interesting, call him old fashioned if you want but he only makes a mess when necessary.

And when the Captain made mess, it was a dirty job indeed.

Price could recall how you'd interrogate your enemies; Electrocution, dumping them in ice cold water, tearing their nails off...

He admires your dedication to your service in the army, your head always in the game.

Although your actions and gruesome antics may be questionable to the Captain, he welcomes you to the team with open arms.

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley 💀

Finally, someone who he can relate to. Long before he joined Task Force, he too was a lone wolf. And still is.

If only there was a way you two could speak telepathically, Ghost rarely speaks. You hear the same old orders from him, no small talk.

Sometimes he'd think to himself if you're following orders or not, but seeing you how you deal with your enemies he didn't need to worry so much.

"Good job Sergeant." He doesn't seem to react too much how you deal with your enemies, he'd just watch like he always does.

Hell, one time he casually gave you some advice and more weak points in the human body.

Ghost had never seen someone so dedicated as you, but putting two and two together. You're a good edition to the team.

Of course he's heard of you, how your name echoed many Task Force's and all across different Barracks, you're no stranger to him.

He remembers his coworkers telling him how you broke your arch Nemesis fingers off, tearing out his wisdom teeth and left him tied up all bloodied.

Overall, you two became good friends. You may not talk much to each other, but both of your presence with each other is enough.

Sargeant Johnny "Soap MacTavish 🧼

"Steamin' bloody Jesus..." Was the first thing that came out of his mouth watching you in the Battlefield.

Now, the young Sargeant was cautious of you at first. But after going on more missions with you, he eventually got used to your antics.

Although he may have been known to sweep houses quickly in his early ears of joining. But he'd never met someone like you before.

Seeing you work reminded him another story that you shoved your knife through the enemies had and kicked his face in. It definitely sent chills down his spine.

Soap is a sociable person, he loves knowing new people he'd just met. Seeing you wasn't so talkative, he was respectful of that.

But he appreciated you listening onto his conversations, overall him rambling. And a simple nod in agreement, or shaking your head was enough for him.

Soap saw how dedicated you was, and that too made him determined to be the best of the best.

He even promised that to Ghost while in Las Almas, and as a man of his word. He stuck to it.

Soap would see you as a colleague and a good friend of his, even if you're not talkative. He appreciates your efforts and dedication.

Sargeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick 🧢

"Bloody hell... You did a number on that guy didn't you?" Gaz would say as he watched you beat the enemy to death.

Gaz had seen many things since he joined by Price's side in 2019 after Picadilly circus, but that was only just the beginning for him...

He's been on a few missions with you so far and finds your ways of killing enemies surprising. But he quietly learns a thing or two, while watching you.

That one mission you went on with him, you broke the guys kneecaps and broke his teeth in, since he failed to give the information.

He met you when Price introduced you to all the others, Gaz being Gaz he shook your hand firmly, welcoming you to the team.

So far he appreciates your service and efforts, he was still young and Gaz had many years of experience to go. Some form of learning curve for him.

Gaz likes small talk sometimes ehile on missions, noticing that you didn't reply. He didn't mind so much. But he does crack a joke now and then for you.

Either way, Gaz sees you as his mate. He pretty much sees anyone as his mate in the Barracks.

KortTac Faction;

König

Now, König was a man of few words himself. So to finally work with someone who didn't talk so much eased his nerves.

He suffers badly with Social anxiety, he tried working on his nerves. But he found it too overwhelming.

At first he did believe you was mute at first, but he didn't mind that do much. As long König didn't have to speak.

Hearing your name for the first time, he simply nodded. He heard of you, many things squally.

Taking down so many men in one night, by yourself waiting for exfil to collect you. And how you killed them, in such detail. König was very pleased.

"I like you..." König would mutter under his breath observing you closely as both of you trained together.

It was rare that König would actually like someone, but you? You're special to him. Maybe because both of you have the same methods in harming your enemies.

You're a great addition to KorTac and König speaks highly of you, and deeply appreciates your efforts.

[reality-not-for-me]

Welcome to the Modern Warfare world: Valkyrie

So, hear me out, it’s time for the supreme rule and worship of muscle mommies. I made a character for just that 😏 I would love to see her out and about in things and if you do use her, please tag me/her!! I’ll use #chelsea quinn and #chelsea valkyrie quinn amongst other tags. I wanna see!!! Just, you know, don’t claim to own her. She’s MINE.

*I have literally never made an oc before, let alone write fics or anything, so take it easy on me pls lol*

Okay, here we go:

Call sign: Valkyrie

Real name: Chelsea Quinn

Member of the 141

Female but not necessarily “feminine”. Hot in her own way. Could pull men And women if she wanted to. Price uses this to the team’s advantage for Sure. I really wanna write something where Valkyrie goes in instead of Soap for that one campaign mission to meet El Sin Nombre and not only is every man in there questioning things but Valeria has a gay panic attack lmao

Really short medium brown hair that she looks really good in

Definitely steals Soap’s hair gel

Asked soap to style her hair into a fauxhawk/mohawk once, the boys all secretly loved it on her

She cuts her own hair but has Soap help with the back of her head cause I think he does his own too. She of course helps him too

6’-6’1” in shoes and like, 230lbs of muscle

Sergeant level

27 years old

Built like a tank with visible musculature, slight hourglass figure with thicc thighs, proportionally large titties and an ass for days. Therefore people would consider her to be a Muscle Mommy™️

She also has tats, an elbow cuff on her left arm, a forearm wrap-around sleeve on her right, and a couple of ones only seen when she’s wearing more revealing clothing. Definitely the type to incorporate her scars into a tattoo. I haven’t decided what her tattoos actually look like though

The type of person who can dish out the genuine compliments/flirts but can’t take them, gets all flustered when someone does

Can sing and will when given the chance. Especially if something is stuck in her head. Secretly loved getting dragged to a private karaoke party room by Gaz and Soap. Ghost sat on the couch and laughed at the three of them making fools of themselves while Price smoked his cigar and smiled as he sat with Simon.

Ghost can play the guitar and every now and then she’ll sing softly along with him (he’ll play songs she knows on purpose after discovering this)

Quite a pretty facial structure and smile. Doesn’t see her beauty but learned how to flirtatiously manipulate targets via the boys. THATS an Interesting story

Has light colored freckles on face and shoulders, mole on left cheek

Caucasian

Witty

Sometimes dry humor, sometimes goofy

Loyal

Not one to go against authority or talk back unless it means one of “her boys” gets left behind

Loving of those who are close to her

Kind of a masochist lmaoo but more so in a way that’s like, she’s pushing herself too far physically and mentally cause that’s the perfectionist in her. Unless.. 👀

When sparring she’ll take down all of the boys in combat except Price and Ghost simply because price is absent during training and ghost is just too fucking agile and large. Doesn’t mean she won’t still try. Once she took a punch to the abdomen in order to bum rush Ghost and managed to catch him off guard enough to tackle him. He was impressed and flustered but still called it cheating

Gets along almost too well with Soap, openly flirts with one another but more so in a bffs way. Unless.. 👀

They definitely also flirt with ghost because they think it’s funny when he gets flustered, but one day the man is gonna snap I’m tellin ya (and when he does…… 👀)

Managed to become the third musketeer of Ghost and Soap

Is allowed to call soap Johnny. And Gaz Gazzy when they’re off duty. Or on, even. She knows he secretly admires having a nickname for his nickname. Until someone (ghost) pointed out it sounds like “gassy”

She has definitely picked up the Scottish slang and will say it in the respective accent. The boys think it’s hilarious

She makes the funniest faces sometimes when she’s reacting to a story someone is telling

Ghost loves her deep down just like with Johnny, and will die and kill for both of them

She has seen Ghost’s face because they trust each other so much and he knows she takes trust so so seriously. They bonded over ✨past trauma✨

They originally were just professional towards each other but once ghost saw her scars on accident (while changing) he started warming up to her and would seek out conversation with her, which she happily accepted and returned.

Johnny just started talking to her when she arrived and she also happily accepted and returned lol. She’s just very personable. She’s the type to be reserved until someone else makes the first move (which may or may not be true for… other situations as well 👀😉)

I believe she’s at least an inch taller than soap, and will make sure he remembers it. She can and will pick up people who are smaller than her. Well, let’s be honest, she’ll still pick up people who are bigger than her. The boys all wanted a turn to be picked up by her lmao

Calls ghost by his first name in intimate moments (not that kind you perv. Unless.. 👀)

Is often the one everyone can talk to about personal shit because she listens and has feedback to offer with no judgment

Is the sole woman on the team so she is happy to answer any questions the men might have, sexual or not. Drunken “never have I ever” got a little crazy last time

When she needs to vent or cry, ghost and/or Johnny will hold her and listen. Same goes for the reverse. Or any member of the 141 tbh. She is Mommy™️

That being said, she will 100% cuddle platonically with Anyone who wants/needs it. She understands that everyone needs human intimacy (especially in their line of work holy shit). “Wanna cuddle?” “What? Why?” “Cause it’s nice. Don’t make it weird.”

She has scars along her shoulder blades and one on her abdomen through and through to mid/lower back. Changes the story of how she got them every time someone asks. Only her true friends know the real stories. If she’s in civvies or undercover she tells people it’s from getting skin cancer or something lolol

Won’t open up to just anyone, but will also just spit out something shockingly personal casually amongst the 141

Took Spanish for eight years in school so she will giggle at things Rudy and Alejandro say and they’re shocked when they find out she Knows™️. this being said she will also call soap names in Spanish with them in front of Soap to annoy him.

Will offer herself up to be a diversion or to do something crazy mission-wise. It drives the boys crazy cause they just want to protect her but she’ll give them a reason why she’d be the perfect candidate and they’d have to let her.

When she dresses up for undercover work she is a VISION. the boys have to rein it in and she gets confused and/or flustered when they all of a sudden avert their eyes or stutter around her.

König. Oh that poor man. He is down bad for her and she doesn’t really know it. She just thinks he’s having his usual social anxiety when talking to her so she makes sure she’s nice and patient with him. He first saw her when he was visiting one day. She and the boys were sparring and she pinned Soap right as she looked up at him, eyes all dark, and he combusted then and there. Although she isn’t picking up what he’s putting down, her boys of the 141 are and will protect her/compete for her attention while he’s around. If you accuse ghost or soap of being jealous they will deny it of course.

When she’s exhausted it’s either she gets the loopy kind of silly where you laugh at nothing and then feel like sobbing at the same time OR she remains totally silent as she’s killing enemy after enemy without thinking. It freaks everyone out either way

She loves complimenting Farah on anything and everything she does. Farah is a badass and game recognizes game

Nikolai is sweet on Valkyrie; he sees her as this charming woman that likes his accent lmao, and he will ask about her whenever she’s not there

Listen. Laswell is married. But damn if she doesn’t get a little overwhelmed by Valkyrie’s form now and again. Will remain professional, of course, and Val won’t notice anyways. She’ll just keep being kind and respectful to Laswell, and maybe even ask how the wife is doing

The rookie men on base will either try to hit on her or try to make her feel like shit about herself, no inbetween. Which, is fucking bold of them considering. If the 141 isn’t near her when the latter happens to kill the rookie on sight, she’ll one punch man him into oblivion herself. And then go ask Johnny and ghost if what they said were true about her. (It’s not)

I’m still adding things as l think of them, and of course will edit this as I add them. But yeah. There she is. I love her already and can’t wait to make stuff with her :)

*redid the og character post with new art and info!*