#task force 141 x y/n

[saksukei]

subtle things simon ‘ghost’ riley does for you

masterlist | simon has a crush on you | captain john price version

everybody on the base is aware of one thing. first – to not mess with the skull masked lieutenant. second – to not mess with the skull masked lieutenant’s favorite. it's clear that simon has taken a liking to you, but he disguises it well enough for it to sweep under your radar.

just knowing eye stares. god. he's such a sucker for just staring at you, be it when you guys are training, when there's a meeting going on, in the barracks, when somebody says something stupid. he looks to you as a form of reassurance, giving you a slight nod most of the time. this is his way to communicate. he's thankful for his mask because he knows damn well he's blushing underneath when his eyes meet yours and you give him a big grin.

speaking of eye contact, if any time ghost says something sarcastic under his breath and you hear it despite being across the room, he will absolutely wink at you. it's disguised so so well omg. especially if you mention something that's a known joke between the two of you, god he’ll just lean back, give you a wink and continue listening to the briefing. (he also subtly checks you out by the way)

has a habit of just messing your hair. he knows it irritates you, but that's just his way of showing affection. the first time he reached out his gloved hand to mess your hair, price just grinned. he knew simon was smitten.

he lets you ramble on and on about things you like, dislike, philosophical debates, anything really, with him occasionally adding quips. soap is so shocked at simon’s change of attitude because when he talks for a minute, the lieutenant just asks him to shut up.

he secretly makes things easy for you. like you gotta carry big boxes to the warehouse? they’ll be done before you know it. a report is holding you up? it's already stapled and on your desk. “what else?” he asks. he's terribly intuitive as well, so he knows when something is bothering you.

has a habit of just standing behind you. that's his way of looking out for you. and if he senses any danger, you best believe he's gonna be on his A game. be it a sniper or be it some new private that made a suggestive remark, he’ll put them straight.

he's your biggest supporter except he's constipated in actually supporting. you did pretty well on a mission? most you’re getting out of him is “you did good, yeah?” but that's it.

he's also so so smug with his remarks. i’m talking constant shit eating grins, smirks, fucking irritating cocky behavior but he’s so hot with it. “you think you can take on me?” even with his mask on, u can just tell!! “oh yeah? c'mere and prove me wrong”

fucking simp enjoys training with you soooo much like especially the ‘first one to get pinned loses’ he puts you down so easily. but then he coaches you as well “c’mon you can fight better than this” as he points out other techniques to use. “atta girl” (i’m gonna kms). always the person to challenge you and push you to your limits because he's not taking a risk when it comes to your life.

[longing-for-the-past-times]

their reaction to you wearing a flavoured lipstick

task force 141 x reader headcanons

synopsis: headcanons of how would they react when the reader wears a flavoured lipstick/lip gloss/lip balm

notes: can you tell who is my favourite?

comments and reblogs are always appreciated🙈

warnings: mentions of smoking, occasional swearing, tooth-rotting fluff

find it on a03 masterlist

Captain 'John' Price - chocolate and red velvet

He may be slightly old-fashioned and love it when you wear red lipstick as he considers it a classy, but bold choice of colour

He is aware that you own more than one red lipstick, yet he secretly cannot differentiate one shade from another. Not that he'll ever let you know

That is until one day you visit him at work. He won't let it show, but he becomes jealous the second you walk in the base, your lips painted in a rich, velvety crimson. He cannot take his eyes off you, hypnotized by the captivating movement of your lips as you speak to him, telling him about your day and what you thought you should have for dinner.

John does not miss the hungry looks that are thrown across your way. He is quick to snake his hand around your waist and usher you to his office, where he could be the only one relishing in the allure the red lipstick cast over you-

"John, you're not really listening, are you?" your playful tone snaps him out of his reverie, a sheepish look plastered on his face.

"Love, did I ever tell you how much red lipstick suits you?"

"Only twice per day and more than ten times per night…" you roll your eyes at his antics, cupping his cheeks in your hands and planting a kiss at the corner of his lips, letting out a small giggle as his stubble tickled your lips.

"Well, I am headed home to get started on that dinner you didn't pay attention to!" you keep teasing him, amused by his dazzled expression. Little did you know, you had him wrapped around your finger.

"A…Alright, drive safe! I'll be there as soon as I finish this paperwork!"

Only he spends the next hour daydreaming about your red lips and the tender way they made contact with his skin, the phantom touch still lingering on the corner of his lips. Unconsciously, he traces his tongue over the place, freezing when he feels a mild flavour of chocolate.

He checks it once again, partially ashamed of the childish gesture. If any of his teammates caught him at that moment, they wouldn't let him live it down. But the subtle taste is there, sweet yet distant, almost as if it was teasing him.

The paperwork's long forgotten before he realizes it must be your lipstick. You might have told him that you found a new flavoured collection, but he had been too busy staring at your giddy figure to pay attention.

So he becomes a man with a plan and does not delay heading home anymore. The drive there seems endless, but it's all worth it the moment he opens the door and sees you standing by the kitchen counter, wearing the apron he gave you for Christmas

One second he's by the door, the next he's smashing his lips against yours, a small sigh of pleasure leaving him as he relishes in the now-intense aroma of chocolate.

"Warn an old man next time, will ya?"

From that day on, he starts calling you "chocolate". The pet name raises a few eyebrows here and there, but none of you are bothered by it. Not when you could tease him about his newly-found sweet tooth and he could lose himself in your delicate kisses.

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley - strawberries and cigarettes

There are times when he becomes a heavy smoker, sitting on the balcony of your shared apartment and burning through a pack in one day while his mind is mulling over the previous or the next mission

In times like those, he has nothing against your presence, secretly enjoying when you lay his head atop his shoulder and hug him from behind, but he always refuses to kiss you afterwards, arguing that the acrid taste of cigarettes would gross you out

It definitely doesn't- it is an integral part of him that you'd come to accept and love- and now you couldn't live without it

Until one evening, you opt to sit across him, leaning your hands on the balcony railing, while your eyes wander over the city lights. Over the course of your relationship with Simon, you had grown used to his long bouts of silence, becoming accustomed to all of his telltale signs: his left eyebrow would twitch when he doesn't like something, his right foot would continuously tap against the ground when he is distressed.

Three cigarettes in, and his foot is reenacting Radetzky's March. He is utterly unaware of the amused glances you steal at him

"Something the matter, love?" you ask him in a sweet tone, trying to pull off your most innocent face.

"'s nothing", he begins hesitantly, his voice rough from not using it. "…just a little cold, I guess"

You have to turn your head away from him and back to the city, a satisfied smirk spreading on your face. Simon might have been the deadliest operator the Special Forces have had in a long time, but deep down he was also a touch-starved man who found solace and peace in your arms

When the foot tapping does not stop, you struggle to school your face into a neutral expression and turn towards him, your eyes melting at the sight of his dishevelled blonde hair and furrowed brow. He sheepishly looks up in your direction, a silent plea dancing in his chocolate eyes.

You stand and approach him slowly, stopping only when your faces are inches apart. His half-burnt cigarette is forgotten in the ashtray, the remnants of smoke in his breath fanning over your face.

His eyes hold a hundred unanswered questions: did he do something to upset you, did you grow sick of him, can he do anything to get you back; but they are all silenced when you lean in further, placing a gentle and intimate kiss on his lips

The unexpected gesture sends shivers of pleasure down his spine and he has to take a moment before cupping your cheeks in his hands and kissing you back, the way you deserve to be kissed

You chuckle in his mouth before pecking both his eyes and forehead and returning to your original position, your head resting in the crook of his neck as your arms engulf him in a warm hug

He opens his mouth to scold you for kissing him when he is smoking. In his mind, it is almost like he is tainting your presence with the stale smell of smoked cigarettes. But as the words form on his lips, he hesitates, his mind struggling to acknowledge the foreign taste on his tongue

He turns to look at you with a confused look on his face. It was October so there could be no strawberries at the market and the freezer was empty as you had eaten all ice cream when you were on your period-

So why did he taste strawberries on your kiss?

"I may have found a lip gloss from high school", you eventually break the silence, blowing a huff of strawberry-scented air in his direction. "One I bought and swore to keep untouched until I found someone worth using it for!"

His thunderous laugh has you opening your mouth in shock. You could count on your fingers the number of times he'd laugh openly and without reserves

"Bloody hell, darling. You'll get me killed before smoking does! That thing must have been expired for years now!"

You shake your head in disbelief, faintly blushing at his words. You know he is teasing you, but that does not stop you from taking revenge as you start to plant messy pecks and kisses on his neck and cheeks. You eventually stop when your lips are once again inches apart from his, your breaths slowly mingling into a shared one

"Then I guess we are going down together"

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish - cherries and chapped lips

It all begins one cold morning when he leans in to kiss you goodbye before leaving for work

"Hold on! Johnny, you've got to do something about your chapped lips! You know what, let me get you a lip balm!"

He is quick to place a hand on your shoulder to stop you. His eyebrows are raised in disbelief and he has to do a double-take before words tumble out of his mouth

"Ain't no way I'm using such a thing, bonnie! Lip balms and such are made for wee lasses like you, not for demolition experts like me!"

You roll your eyes at his badly constructed argument and give him an unimpressed look when an idea pops into your mind.

"You stay right here, I'll be back in a jiffy!"

"What even is a jiffy?"

But you don't bother to answer as you head towards the bedroom, looking for the cherry-flavoured lip balm you bought specifically for the cold season. With precise movements, you apply a thick layer on your lips, smacking your lips to check if the cherry flavour is strong enough to linger. It fortunately is.

So you hurry into the hallway where Soap's waiting for you, hands on his hips as he angles his head in your direction. If he notices that your lips have just got shinier, he doesn't mention it

Instead, he leans in to properly kiss you goodbye this time, eyes comically widening when you deepen the kiss and make it last longer than usually

A small chuckle leaves his lips as you cup his cheeks in your hand and place a small kiss on the top of his nose

"How about we continue this when I come home?", he smiles at the ticklish sensation of your lips against his skin, the constant stinging of his own being forgotten for the moment

"Is that a promise, Sergeant?"

He has a hard time leaving home that day, the drive to the base being plagued by thoughts of you and how much you care for him. His lips have been chapped ever since spending the last two weeks on a mission that required him to be on constant watches in freezing temperatures. He eventually got used to it, the cracks and fissures becoming familiar from the countless times he dragged his tongue over lips, in a hopeless attempt to soothe the pain radiating from them

He does not realise that he is currently doing the same thing, his brain temporarily freezing as it detects a new, yet familiar aroma

Why do his lips taste like cherries?

He remains in the car, long after he's parked, his mind deep in thought as he runs his tongue over his lips once more, partially scared that he'll make the mysterious taste go away if he's too insistent. He does not see Ghost approaching his car from the back and actually flinches when he hears someone pounding on the window.

"D'you lock yourself in here, Johnny? The briefing's about to start in five and you haven't even geared up yet!"

"Bloody hell, you should really do something about your lips- they look like cracked desert earth or something…"

"Did not take you for a poet, L.T."

"Never said I was."

He is in the middle of the briefing when he figures out the source of the mystery taste. It all starts to make sense - the quick detour you had to take, the passionate kiss. He has to give it to you - you could do anything you put your mind to.

Because, besides the compelling taste, the chapstick you must have used started to have a soothing effect on his lips, the stinging becoming more bearable with every passing moment

He spends the rest of the day struggling to make the cherry flavour last longer, but it eventually fades out after he's forced to drink water. A small pout etches itself into his face and he starts to regret not listening to you.

The moment he comes home, he's in the bedroom, unscrewing the cap of every lip balm and smelling it before trying to place it back exactly as it was

You silently linger in the doorway, an amused smile creeping across your face as your fingers shift with the cherry-flavoured lip balm. Soap is so distracted by his covert operations task that he does not hear you trying to contain your chuckles.

"I believe you are looking for this?"

He is quick to snatch the small tube from your hands before bringing it closer to his nose and drawing a deep breath in. You shake your head in exasperation, a loud laugh escaping your lips as he clumsily tries to rub the chapstick across his lips.

"Love, you're doing it wrong! You might break it if you apply that much pressure!"

"Here, let me help you!"

Ends up insisting you order a batch just for him.

In just days, his lips go from cracked and fissured to soft and plump, perfect for the customary morning kiss

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick - vanilla and stained teeth

Combat training is fun and games until you are paired up with someone like Ghost, Soap, or Gaz and get your ass handed to you

Lucky you, today Gaz is the person who slams your back on the hard mattress and pins your hands above your head, interlocking your feet with his

Your mind replays the steamy events of last night and you can't help but give him a suggestive smirk which is quickly followed by a toothy grin upon seeing the blush that spreads on his face

He shakes his head in disbelief, not letting go of your arms or feet. Instead, he leans forward, cocks his head and openly stares at you

"Darling, you've got lipstick on your teeth!"

You comically widen your eyes and try to bring your hands to your mouth, struggling to escape his firm grip, but to no avail.

"'m n't s'ppos'd to we'r lipstick 't w'rk", you try to mumble with your mouth closed while your tongue is running over your teeth, looking for any traces of lipstick.

"Ok, has it gone now?", you open your mouth and practically bar your teeth at him, frowning at his unreadable expression. "Gaz- you're scaring m-"

Before you finish your sentence, he smashes his lips against yours and it takes all you have not to whimper when you feel his tongue repeatedly swiping over your teeth

Once he breaks up the kiss, he makes a show of checking you up, his thumb slowly tracing the outline of your lips

"Yeah, I think I got it all…"

You roll your eyes at the shit-eating grin he's sporting as he runs his tongue over his lips and freezes, his jaw going slack

"Why am I tasting vanilla? Are you tasting vanilla?"

You try to give him an answer, but before being able to say a word, his lips are back on yours and he is kissing you hard and long, his hold remaining as firm as before

"Alright, lovebirds - go get a room before I cite you for public indecency!"

Upon hearing Captain Price, your combat instincts kick back in and you manage to push Gaz off of you, switching position, so that you are atop him, pinning him to the ground

"Sorry, Captain! We'll go back to training!", you call out to him, offering him an apologetic smile which he accepts with a subtle nod.

"Next time you wear that lipstick, let a man know!"

"It screams you need someone to kiss it better"

[lambiewrites]

Y/N, unable to talk because the helly is so loud so you’re passing notes back and force to the boys. Soap plays along and will doodle and play tic-tac-toe with you, Gaz will practice his penmanship & Ghost is tempted to throw the notes away but instead he says a few words and gossips here and there before pocketing the notes himself to hang up in his barracks later. Price would give you a small smile and let you doodle a picture of him and later he’d pocket it to keep.

[hopelesslonelyghost]

Affection

poly!task force 141 x gn!reader

warnings// suggestive-ish, tooth-rotting fluff, a sliver of angst at the end, NOT BETA READ; apologies for any typos

word count: 364

i loooove tf 141 poly fics i just had to hop on. it’s pretty short but i would love to write more about them <3 this one’s short bc i wrote it on a whim bc my worms were worminggg

I think about how each of the members of the 141 are so different when it comes to showing their affection for you:

There’s John who loves to rest his palm against your cheek and softens when he sees you melt against the warmth of his hand. You love placing a quick kiss to his palm, hearing the way he purrs under your ministrations sending a shiver down your spine.

Then there’s Soap who loves to just yank you gently against him and wrap his arms tightly around you, giving you a good squeeze with those beefy arms of his while placing a soft kiss to your forehead. You squeeze him back, trying to reciprocate the same energy he gives you, tilting your head up enough to place your lips against his neck, living for the way goosebumps erupt on his skin when you do.

Then, of course, there’s Gaz who loves picking you up from the waist, twirling you around, making you giggle. You wrap your legs tightly around his waist, gripping on his shoulders as you stare into each other’s eyes. Pulling him in by placing a hand on the back of his neck, tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss. He always ends up pinning you against the wall, holding you there as the two of you reconnect after a long mission away from each other.

And last, but most definitely not least, is Simon who isn’t very comfortable with open expressions of affection, but shows it in the way of fleeting touches. Standing next to you during debriefs, pinkies softly brushing against each other, his way of saying ‘I’m here.’ Or sitting next to you at the mess hall, legs spread and his knee gently knocking against yours under the table. You think back on the time you got the ghost alone in the hall, looking both ways before standing on your tippy-toes, gripping his shoulders and tugging him down, placing a kiss onto his skull mask and whispering, “Please be safe.” just before he left on a solo op.

The four of them knowing without needing to say it, that you truly love them and cherish every moment you have with them. Soaking in each other, because you’re all painfully aware that tomorrow is never promised.

[konigsblog]

WHAT THEY LIKE TO BE CALLED IN BED....

characters include: john price, simon riley, gaz garrick, soap mactavish, könig.

warnings: smut. straight up, unholy and filthy smut.

MDNI 18+

JOHN PRICE likes to be called ‘sir’ or ‘daddy’, or simply his own name. he's obsessed with having control, power, or authority over you. all he wants is to see you obey, moaning his name breathlessly while he drags his warm tongue up and down your swollen folds, suckling on your swollen clit while you wriggle and squirm, your breathing laborious, whining ‘sir’ through broken, pleasured sobs.

SIMON RILEY likes to be called ‘sir’ as well, although he prefers hearing his name more. your tongue intertwined with his as he pulls away from your lips, rubbing his bulbous, hot cock back and forth between your wet slit. he'll encourage you to scream his name, to chant it between whines and mewls. he gazes down at the creamy, sticky slickness between your soft thighs, huffing and puffing at the sweet scent of your neediness the louder you whine his name.

GAZ GARRICK likes to be called his own name, but he doesn't mind being called ‘good boy’, or praised sweetly by his significant other. when you're in the midst of straddling his muscular, sturdy hips, bouncing up and down sloppily, all he wants to hear is your sweet, soothing words as the head of his swollen, lengthy, and stiff cock begins spurting pearly, white beads of his release against your womb. the sound of your comforting and encouraging words leave kyle groaning quietly, pleading for more softly.

SOAP MACTAVISH is similar to simon, but also gaz. he enjoys being called ‘sir’ whenever he's dominating you, but will melt at the sound of your sweet praise. when he has full control, all he wants to hear is ‘sir’ as he's ploughing into the slickness of your warm cunt. but whenever he's submitting to you, he yearns for your soothing tone against his ear as you stroke his lengthy, hard cock, throbbing at your touch. he can barely contain his pleas for more as you attempt to calm him down, shooting thick and milky strings of his hot load all over himself, light-headed with his lengthy sticky and pulsating at your touch.

KÖNIG is almost always dominating you. he craves control and power over you, and will accept anything. he enjoys ‘sir’, ‘master’, or even his own name. since he adores having control and authority, he will get off to the sound of your obedience, “yes, sir.” as you follow along with his orders, his meaty and girthy cock throbbing as you obediently wrap your lips around him, almost too eager to please him. he wants you to scream his name across the base, so that everyone knows exactly who you belong to. call him possessive and overprotective, but he's addicted to the sound of you moaning his name.

[fictionalmenxyn]

How would the Task force 141 + los vaqueros react to their s/o wearing their clothes?

Thank and you and i hope you have a wonderful day! 😊

Hi of course I will write this for you and others! :) thanks, hope you have a good day/night too!

Ghost

Definitely take either his t-shirt or hoodie/fleece (especially the grey one)

It’s a bonus if it still smells like him

They way he’ll find out is by walking into the break room and spot you in a rather large hoodie. So he’d walk over and see ‘Lt. Riley’ and he’ll raise an eyebrow of when you stole it.

Definitely likes you wearing it but messes with you. Like he’ll tell you how it’s his and how your lucky your his as well, as your wearing his clothes.

Likes that it shows your his as he can be protective of you

Make his heart beat a little fast as he is drawn towards you even more.

Sometimes he’ll leave his stuff in your room with a sticky note ‘wear me :)’

Definitely hugs you from behind and questions you of how you got it.

If your into oversized hoodies and they are able to fit him and he like the look of it. He will steal it for a bit as he always says it’s a fair game as you steal his.

Soap

His t-shirt or socks

Feel like if it’s socks it’s either cause your cold or cause you need thicker socks for certain shoes

You love that when he offers his t-shirt he makes sure it smells of him as he knows it comforts you

Loves seeing you in his clothes, goes giddy on the inside if he catches you wearing his t-shirt

He likes when you make him a cup of tea/coffee and sees you in his shirt. It makes his morning

If you wear his shirt and Ghost walks past he’d definitely call you Johnny. As a joke.

Gaz

A sweatshirt or joggers/sweatpants probably. I know this may be odd but maybe boxers

Like if you just got out the shower or sleeping in them as if they are shorts but you don’t wear them as actual underwear

He smirks and has lust in his eyes when he sees you in his sweat shirt and his heart beats faster if your wearing both items

You love that he actually loves his sense of style and likes to look fashion able

You usually wear his joggers/sweatpants if your going to bed probably with a tank top or sports bra

Gives you a kiss and a comment like ‘wonder who’s clothes they are? Cause I know they aren’t yours’

Like Ghost if you wear baggy clothes and they look nice he’ll definitely wear it. And it has to smell like you it’s also a comfort thing to him

Price

Hat, joggers/sweat pants or button down shirt

If he has multiple hats and he has ones he doesn’t wear as much as others you’ll pick them so he can’t really complain

If it’s sunny out, you’d wear one and see if he notices and if he does he’ll lift your chin up and ask ‘how did you get that?’

When wearing his joggers you’d wear them on cold or winter days as they are fluffy on the inside and act like a blanket

With his button down shirt it will be after a busy night out and your heads ringing and that’s the first thing you see

Or it’s your going to work and can’t find anything that fits with the out fit or yours are all in the wash

He find it cute when you scrunch your face when he asks about you wearing his clothes and you blush a tad

Alejandro

Shirt, tank tops, if he has one a cowboy hat (I believe he has at least one)

If he sees you with any form of his clothing on he fells like he has fallen in love with you again

If it is his short he’ll smirk and say ‘since when did you steal that, Querida (my dear)’ and you’ll just blush

If it’s his tank top it’s usually a hot day out. He’ll probably be wearing one too and if you both are wearing one. You’ll both stare at each other with lust and who knows what happens after ;)

If it’s a cowboy hat, my my. He’ll say ‘my my Señorita you look asombrosa (breathtaking) in that hat, I think I need to get one for you’

Sometimes you’d wear it in the summer to get more cover from the sun

He’s once again fallen in love with you. He thinks you couldn’t get any hotter we’ll all you have to do is wear something of his

Rudy

Fleece or hoodie

He’ll blush a little seeing you in his clothes especially for the first time

He’ll complement you and say you could/should wear it more often

He’ll hug you and give you a kiss and mention how good you look in his clothes and he asks if you want to wear any other hoodies he has

If he’s away and your at home you’d where his hoodie till the smell fades they wash it and put his cologne back on there

He loves how if you wear it around the boys it makes him feel a lot more calmer knowing that the boys know your wearing his clothes

Loves that you find comfort in his things like they comfort him

[lunarw0rks]

Hi! I hope your day has been well :]. If you don't mind, could you do some headcannons on Task 141 + konig or just 141 reacting to their s/o having boobs that just never fit in a button up?

Like the button up will just pop open after a long time of trying to close it. So their s/o just wears it halfway open and is completely oblivious to the "seductive/hot" look it gives her.

Thank you ^^

You're Killing Me // 141 Drabbles

Warning(s): suggestive language/content, brief mention of harassment, established relationship, fem!reader, no use of y/n Word Count: 1.4k ꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX ˎˊ˗

SYNOPSIS; you had spent nearly twenty minutes unbuttoning and re-buttoning the top. You twirled around, bent down, spread your arms—sometimes just breathed and they popped right out. It was a hopeless battle, and you had lost all your patience fighting the size of your chest. In return, you kept the shirt buttoned down about halfway. There was more cleavage showing than you were used to, but it was only you and him there, so why not leave the neckline free? They needed to breathe, anyhow.

Price

John was somewhere in the house, but nowhere in sight. Most days the clearing of his throat or an earth-shattering sneeze are the only things that let you know he’s even home.

Today was no different. He was probably somewhere in his office if you had a guess. You walked down the stairs and went to the kitchen, deciding to cook some brunch for the two of you. You brewed some coffee for him, easy enough because he liked it black. Then, began cooking some eggs and toast to go with the caffeine.

When finished, you carefully picked up the plate you arranged, then the mug. Before you could turn, you heard the familiar clearing of a throat.

❝What are you doing, sweetheart?❞ He asked, but his words began to quiet when he saw your shirt only buttoned halfway. His eyes bulged slightly, very slightly, but he was eerily good at maintaining a poker face. John sipped on the mug you handed him, but his eyes didn’t flutter shut like they normally did as he drank.

❝I made brunch for you,❞ you reply, an ever-innocent smile on your face. It was clear you really didn’t have any idea how seductive you looked. It wasn’t just some cleavage, the collar was open so much he didn’t need to use much of his imagination.

❝I see that.❞ John rasped, that cheeky smile appearing on his face. The one that usually followed a snarky remark—but he couldn’t spoil this now. Not with a day of work ahead of him, though he had an almost remarkable amount of self-restraint.

To sneak another look, he approached from the side, kissing your head. One where he allowed himself to ogle down your shirt. ❝You look gorgeous today.❞ He mumbled against your hair, then retreated from the kitchen.

Sure, it had a double meaning for later. But right now? He would have something to look forward to as he got through his stacks of paperwork.

Simon

❝I’m headed out.❞ You said from the entrance hall, scooping up your bag and keys. You were going out with a friend, perhaps to get dinner or do some shopping. After that heated dressing session this morning, how you’ve left your shirt, you’re definitely buying a larger one.

Simon’s back was visible as he sat on the sofa, barely turning his head when you announced your departure. You swore you could hear him mutter an “mhm” but other than that, he only nodded his head.

Then, you remembered. You walked towards the living room, close enough for your outfit to be in sight. You thought nothing of the way you looked. In fact, you just thought it was a slightly revealing outfit, nothing else. ❝Don’t forget, your uniform is in the laundry room.❞

Though it was impossible to see on your end, Simon’s eyes were scanning the way you’d dressed yourself. He shifted in his seat a bit, nodding at your reminder—though it had flown right past him upon seeing your protruding chest.

You walked away, no other words exchanged. To you, it was just an average conversation with him; dry and reserved, despite how strong your relationship had gotten. You just learned to accept it, because a man like Simon wouldn’t stick around if he didn’t want to.

—

Lunch with friends had just finished, as well as about an hour of shopping. Unbeknownst to you, Simon had tailed you the whole time, sneakily and with laser focus. Yes, he had your location on his phone. Yes, he trusted you not to get yourself into trouble. But his paranoia got the better of him, especially seeing you dressed so revealingly.

He lacked trust with strangers, not you—his fear of you finding someone better took years to get over.

You walked out to the parking lot of the mall, a few shopping bags in hand. Then, you spotted him leaning against your car, balaclava rolled up and a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. ❝You stalking me now, babe?❞ You approached him, never sure what to expect from him.

When he saw you, his position blocking your car door didn’t change, his eyes did. He stared down at your chest again, then met your eyes. ❝Did you enjoy yourself? How about the mocha latte?❞

His words made your eyes widen slightly. The bastard was even behind you in line at Starbucks, and you hadn’t noticed? His stealth was both impressive and bone-chilling. Your silence made his brows furrow under his mask, urging him to step a bit closer. ❝Relax. I’m not bein’ a prick. Was just worried about you being out.❞

Simon would never say why, or the awful scenarios he’d convinced himself of. He would’ve done it with or without you wearing the revealing outfit. All your clueless self needed to know was that you were protected.

Soap

God, what was taking you so long?

❝Film starts at 4:30, lass. It’s 4:15.❞ He said through the door, tapping his foot against the floor. Soap looked down at his watch, waiting outside the bathroom for you to finish getting dressed. You were taking longer than usual, though he hadn’t imagined it was because your boobs kept popping out of your shirt.

Upon hearing your gasps and groans of frustration, then the sound of clothing fabric shuffling, he furrowed a brow in concern. ❝Everything alright?❞

You swung open the door, slightly out of breath from your struggle with the button-up. ❝Yeah, let’s get going.❞ Let’s just say the beam on your face, it was the second thing he noticed. Your cleavage was on full display, only half the buttons fastened. Soap’s eyes glossed over a bit, expecting some sort of tease from your lips, but you were oblivious.

He had to take a few steps back, his expression dropping into a sneer. ❝You have the slightest clue what you’re doin’, bonnie? Those are gonna catch some stares…❞ As possessive as his words sounded, they weren’t preventing you from going out like that. What creeper in their right mind would try anything with him at your side? Next to none.

❝I couldn’t get the shirt buttoned,❞ your lips tightened into a pout, expecting him to ask you to change, or something to that effect—though he wasn’t the type.

However, he just smirked, lips pursing cockily. ❝Might even try to touch you. That’s before they lose their hands, though.❞ Soap winked, draping an arm around your shoulders as he led you to the front door.

As he snaked his arm around your shoulder, he snuck in a grope, one that was followed by a flushed expression on both your faces. He chuckled at the coy look on your face as if you weren’t dating the biggest flirt. ❝What? These are mine, lass. I’m allowed to touch.❞

Gaz

The heat was sweltering and unforgiving—especially in the prime of the afternoon.

You opened up all the curtains, allowing yourself to sunbathe as you moved about the house, but without leaving the comfort of the AC. The natural light gave your shared living room a warm, homey feel. The front door shut—he had gotten back from his daily run. 

❝Felt like a bloody melting ice pop out there,❞ Kyle grunted as he went straight to the kitchen, pressing a chilled bottled water to his sweating head. When his eyes opened, he saw the shirt you had on for the first time that day.

Kyle not-so-subtly checked you out as you fanned yourself with a magazine. The shirt, already tight enough, was even tighter as the heat made you pant. And the dribble of sweat running down your exposed cleavage? What a sight to him. ❝Is there something on my face?❞ You questioned with a senseless giggle.

He had traveled across the kitchen at the speed of light, a hungry kiss on your lips. He pulled away for air, ❝you’ll be the death of me before the Sun is, love.❞ One hand pushed a sweaty strand of hair away, while the other tugged at the opening of the shirt playfully.

You knitted your brows while biting down on your now saliva-soaked lips, ❝aren’t you tired from your run?❞ Besides, he typically wasn’t that forward. You wondered if the heat really got to him, having no clue how aroused your chest made him.

❝Not anymore.❞

[hunterbunter3000]

Can't stop thinking about an all woman Task Force coming to SAS and helping Task Force 141 + Kortac for a mission

Can't stop thinking about the male team waiting for the women to get here, expectations all different for each of them

Can't stop thinking about a huge, futuristic transport plane coming down to land, and Soap wondering why they don't have one that cool (And Ghost telling him to shut up)

Can't stop thinking about two women jumping out of the jet and play fighting, chasing each other and one pinning the other one down in a chokehold

Can't stop thinking about the absolute shock the men have on their faces when they see how fast they are, and how tall and big and pretty these two women are

Can't stop thinking about the giggling women standing up but get pushed forward by another girl, even taller and bigger than the other two, frowning at them and snapping at them to 'keep the line moving'

Can't stop thinking about more of the female team coming out of the plane, some with headphones on, some talking to each other, and some straight up ignoring the male team as they carry heavy cargo like it weights nothing

Can't stop thinking about how there's a K9 handler on the team and brought out these big ass wolf-dogs with spiked collars and one of them scares the shit out of Soap because it barked at him and she apologizes to him with a nervous smile (he's already in love)

Can't stop thinking about how the males can't stop goggling at these absolute beautiful women that pass them by who look like they're from the fucking island of Themyscira

Can't stop thinking about how Capitan Price and Ghost almost pass the hell out when they see the last two women get out of the plane, the tallest person they've ever seen in the front and a bit shorter one in the back

Can't stop thinking about how all the women have to bend down to go through the doors

Can't stop thinking about all the women finally introducing themselves with their call signs and the tallest one in the team (who almost broke their doors because she cant get through them) is the Capitan and her second in command is behind her

Can't stop thinking about the second in command giving Ghost a small nod with a soft smile, sending him in a spiral

Can't stop thinking about some of the girls crowding the men, cooing down at them about how cute they are and how muscular they are, pinching their flustered cheeks and curiously groping their overwhelmed bodies

Definitely can't stop thinking about how the men know they're absolutely fucked for these few months.

Can't. Stop. Thinkinnggggg.

[bubuslutty]

part 2: 141 problems

a/n: enjoy and don't forget to click the pictures for better quality when necessary! :)

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @obiwankenobis-lap @goapgrim @smalldemonlover @silviafantin15 @reveluving @bobastayhigh @originalsimp @h-leigh @gxldyjess @msdrpreist @chaoticevilbakugo @lacunaanonymoused @whore4dilfs @canadianmilkbag @ahoeformando @ray-rook

[waffles-art-writing]

Water Logged - Task Force 141!Platonic x F!Reader - JOKER

Summary: PART 2 of One Hell Of A First Mission. You end up crammed in the back seat between your team mates. You become aware that both you and your Scottish Teammate find the funny side to most things, you find out having to swim with a balaclava is like breathing through a wet sponge.

Proofread: NOPE

Pairing: Task Force 141!Platonic x F!Reader

WordCount: 4.2k ish

Age Rating: 16+

Codename: JOKER

KEY: Y/N - Your Name, L/N - Last Name.

Warning/Info: COD Violence, Swearing, description of injuries, Weapons, fighting, fluff and angst if you squint. A lot of time skips sorry. Sorry if its not identical to the game… ENJOY! Oh and Graves… he’s just a warning within himself.

Please go read the previous parts here MASTERLIST

If you want more please comment! Reblogs are appreciated!

Also sorry if it’s not any good, I’m going through a huge writers block…

Taglist: @studywithrosie01 (idk if you still wanna be tagged so I’ll tag you till you tell me otherwise if that’s okay?) IF YOU WANNA BE TAGGED PLEASE COMMENT!

——————————

You sit crammed in the back seat of the vehicle. Ignoring how uncomfortable you are squished up against Soap and Ghost. Your arms crossed, legs crossed, practically twisted like a pretzel. Graves is in the front seat while Alejandro is driving, happy as Larry they are compared to you and your squished team mates, that could be compared to a can of sardines. You bite your tongue when the vehicle hits a pothole, Soap groans lightly and Ghost just tightens his grip on the seat. “Fuck this” you spit out, pushing yourself to stand, slipping over the back of the seat into the free space in the back.

“What the fuck” Soap states, looking over you, who looks a lot more comfortable than before. “I hate being crammed between two men who smell like shit” you chuckle, leaning onto your arms that are folded over your knees. “I don’t stink..” Soap growls, huffing as he turns back around to face the front. Ghost glances at you, you just shrug as you smile under the joker smile on your balaclava.

An hour passes of you sitting in the back, almost falling asleep in the darkness of the night and the few street lights that you pass by. You snap awake when you feel a hand shaking your shoulder, your mind groggy from the light slumber your brain was dancing with just moments ago. You groan lightly as you sit up, stretching out. You go to lean against the door that would open for you to be able to access the back from the outside, however your back doesn’t touch anything, you tumble out of the back. Going head over heels out of the vehicle, your gun clanging to the ground as you squeeze your eyes tight, bracing for the impact of the ground. Nothing comes, your body doesn’t hit the ground, warmth is raiding off two spots on your upper back.

You crack open your eyes to come face to face with Alejandro, his smile wide with a light chuckle. “You alright there Joker?” He asks, you just nod as he helps you up. “Yeah… thanks Alejandro.” You chuckle lightly, rubbing the imaginary kink out of your neck as you stand there looking down at your boots. “Any time.” He states as he pats your shoulder, you smile lightly, your mask shifting.

A deep voice sounds out from your left, you look over to see Ghost holding your rifle. “Oh… thanks Lieutenant'' You state, taking the gun from the taller man with a cold gaze. He just hums as he turns away, walking towards the large building you’re all supposed to be on top of. You strap the rifle to your back as you approach the building, following the rest of the team in, to your annoyance Graves is behind you.

He attempts some small talk but you shoot it down quickly with a “Shut up yank.” This caused the rest of the team to look over their shoulders down at you, Soap almost tripping up the stairs, Ghost almost getting whiplash with how quickly he looked at you. Along with nearly causing Alejandro to have a coughing fit when He coughs into his hand to hide his smile, you just keep your eyes forward passing the others on the way to the roof.

You perch yourself on one of the air condition units, looking at the fancy mansion in the distance, Ghost is a few paces in front of you, just off to the right. Alejandro, Graves and Soap all stand at the edge using binoculars to look at the mansion. Your mind focused on the heavy foot patrol around the compound, wondering how on earth you guys are gonna get in without a problem.

“Las casa de Sin Nombre?” Soap asks, which makes you look at him with a raised brow. ‘When did he learn that?’ You question, even Ghost glances at the Scotsman then to you. Alejandro sighs lightly before speaking “No. One of his Lugartenientes” you stand from your spot, walking up to stand next to Ghost. “The Cartel’s Lieutenant” you mumble to yourself, even though Soap states it louder. Alejandro states ‘Nice, brother. You’re learning’ in Spanish. Ghost looks over at you to see if you're gonna translate quietly again, you glance up at him briefly. “He praised him,” you shrug, looking back at the others.

“My sources tell me all the VIPs in Las Almas will be there tonight.” Alejandro continues “Some are invited, others are, umm….” Graves speaks up this time, his accent strong “Volun-told…?” “Yes,” Alejandro confirms.

“What’s the meet about?” Graves asks, looking over at Alejandro, who in turns says ‘Us’ in Spanish which you just whisper a quiet ‘us’ while motioning to everyone for Ghost. “Las Almas is burning, and they want to know who lit the fire.” Alejandro states, Ghost looks over at the Mexican “Sin Nombre will be there, yeah?” His accent is not helping his pronunciation of the Spanish words. “No guarantees but this is our best shot” Alejandro states while he turns to Ghost, walking a few paces closer.

Graves and Soap have done the same, Philip Graves taking the talking again with “Then we take it.” Which causes your skin to crawl,“I got enough Shadows here to take over the whole damn country.” “I’d prefer if you didn’t.” Alejandro protests, you take a step forward to defend Alejandro when Graves speaks up again.

Your actions fall short when Soap and Ghost give you a slight shake of their heads, you just let out a quiet huff as you back down. “Just saying … one house shouldn’t be a problem” Graves states, “We need Sin Nombre alive.” Ghost growls, Graves just lets out a small half chuckle of a huff, looking from Ghost over to the compound.

“Well…” he pauses. “Then we need to meet him.” He turns to look back at the group before looking at Soap who questions how. Your stomach sinks at the next statement that comes from the Shadow Company leader “Give ‘em what they want… Intel.” You glance at Soap then to Ghost “They wanna know who’s here. Let’s tell ‘em.” Both you and Alejandro ask “In person-?” You shift in your spot, uneasy with where this is going.

“Correcto… Get one of us inside, find the boss… roll him up” he states, looking around the group then to Alejandro properly.

There’s a brief pause before both you and Soap step forward with a “I’ll do it.” You both look at eachother, both not willing to back down. “Joker no, you gotta stay out here. You’re too…” Graves starts, his excuse fading quickly when you look at him. “Because I’m weaker? A girl? So fucking what Philip, you don’t get to say what I do.” You growl, he steps up to you, nose to nose at this point. “You ain’t going in there, we need you out here with Ghost.” He sneers. “You don’t give me orders mate, Ghost or Soap can but you can’t. SO, get off your high horse and realise I am as skilled as the rest of this team.” Graves backs down when he looks you in the eye, knowing how stubborn you are from previous encounters with you. “Lass, you stay out here with Ghost. Be my eyes for me on the outside.” Soap states, trying to level with you on you not going. You stare at the blue eyed Scotsman, brows furrowed under your mask. “You’re with me Joker, I need you with me while Graves goes and gets the Shadows” Ghost states, an order. You look to Alejandro to gauge his opinion, he just looks at you and Soap. “You go in there, and they’ll kill you.” He shakes his head lightly at you. “We need your eyes out here.” You just huff and back down, stepping out of the circle as the rest of them continue their conversation.

You follow Ghost to the spot he will be situated to be eyes for Soap and Alejandro, you’re there to watch his back as well as signal spot anything that Ghost doesn’t spot. You think its stupid in reality, this man is a bloody Lieutenant, he didn’t get to this point because of luck. He got his title because of skill, he knows how to keep himself concealed when sniping, he knows he’s vulnerable when he’s laying on his stomach and looking through the scope. You’re mere six feet away from him, knowing he likes his space just by the aura that radiates off him.

You haven’t talked much with your Lieutenant, you translated some words for him when he cocks his head to the side, or just doesn’t reply to a question. You have been his shadow for most of this mission, except for when you got separated and had to be by yourself for brief moments of time. You and Soap grew close quickly though, but you never talk much unless you’re spoken to, so right now you're a little anxious for Soap who is now being escorted into the large building.

You don’t talk over the comms, Ghost taking that role pretty well in all honesty. But once Soap is allowed to walk around the building, by means of Alejandro helping after getting inside and getting a disguise. You pipe up to tell him there’s a large trellis for him to be able to climb to help get to the balcony . “What now?” Soap asks, his voice crackling to life in your ear. “Y’know those plant thingys for them to grow up a wall…” you can see him shrug lightly through your scope. “For fucks sakes… a plant ladder Soap… that black thing with leaves” you hear a long “Oh” before you see him climb it with slightly difficulty before jumping the rest of the way to latch onto Balcony rails.

“Thanks Lass.” He states, you just hum in response. Moments pass as you quietly watch the building with baited breath. Your heart sinks when shots ring out, chaos ensues quickly onto Soap and Alejandro. You don’t have eyes on them, they are still inside the building. They just broke into the room with Sin Nombre in it, which turns out to be the woman that Soap got the displeasure of meeting down stairs in the makeshift interrogation room.

You go to push yourself from the ground, to run and help your team but a hand quickly catches your wrist when you go to get off the ground. “Don’t do anything stupid, kid.” That’s all that Ghost says before letting you go and nodding to you, that’s all you need before you’re bolting towards the compound. You’re just over a few hundred metres away from the fire fight, you can easily get there in a quick minute.

You sprint through the small forest that sits at the bottom internet he hill, jumping over and dodging low hanging branches. You see that the guards are scrambling to get to Alejandro and Soap, you take advantage of the distracted guards. Sliding up behind them one by one, taking them down like it was nothing, slicing their necks, kicking their legs out from under them. A quick bullet to each of their heads before moving to the next part.

“They’re on the roof, Joker, get yer ass there now!” You hear Ghost growl in your ear, your heart skips a beat when you realise how high the roof is from your position in the ground. You shake off the icy feel of dread, quickly scaling the same trellis that Soap used. You know it will take too long to find stairs to the roof, the next best thing is using the window sills to grab the gutter of the lower roof.

You shimmy across the small outcrop of stone, grabbing the edge of the roof as soon as it came into reach. The tiles creak under your weight, threatening to slip out from under you as you push yourself up to stand. A bullet flies overhead as you peek out to see where your team is. “Fuckin hell” you curse, throwing yourself over the small wall and into the flat surface of the roof you find yourself pinned to your hiding spot.

You hear a yell from a woman, you realise it’s the woman from earlier. The one you need, the one you need to detain as quickly as possible. “Put your hands where I can see them!” You yell, your rifle aimed at the woman’s back, right where her heart would be. Both Soap and Alejandro come sprinting around the corner, coming to a screeching halt when they see you aiming at the woman. Your breathing is heavy as you keep your eyes on the target, not batting an eye when you realise Shadow Company have arrived and are just hovering off the roof in a chopper.

You’re not even registering that anyone is talking to you, or to anyone for that matter. You’re solely focused on not letting this woman who you don’t even know the name of, out of your sight before she’s cuffed and taken to the base. Moments pass before Alejandro is cuffing her and dragging her away, you lower your gun as you let out a S breath you didn’t even realise you were holding. “Lass?” You whip around to see Soap, a small smirk on his lips as he looks at you.

You probably look like shit, you haven’t slept in days, haven’t been able to actually make yourself look presentable. “Hey…” you state quietly, barely audible over the sounds of the chopper, Soap approaches you when you adjust the balaclava slightly. “Thanks… to be honest we thought she was gonna be gone” he states, his hand clasping your shoulder with affection and gratitude.

You nod as you place a hand over his, he sees that you were worried, his grip tightens. “C’mere” his voice soft as he pulls you into his side, resting his chin on the crown of your head. “Let’s go kick some cartel arse, aye?” You just nod with a small chuckle as you pull away from the side hug, your eyes crinkle under your mask as you look up at the Scotsman.

——— Time Skip ——-

You’re beyond exhausted, you successfully got the missiles disarmed from the oil rigs and the large container ship. You despised being on the ship, the slippery deck and rocking of the ship on the stormy sea wasn’t helping you. The motion made you feel sick. The rain pelting down didn't help with the thunderous sound of the waves and cracking of lighting overhead, especially when the smaller containers started sliding across the ship.

You were almost crushed by one before you were dragged out of the way by Soap. Now you're in the back of one of the vehicles of the convoy, Alejandro in the front passenger seat, one of his men driving. You’re crammed in the back with Soap and Ghost again, your head lulling back with your eyes locked on the ceiling, your wet clothes now damp still sticking to your skin. Soap is man spreading, Ghost doing the same as you're crammed between the two. The sound of the rain hitting the windows and roof almost sends you to sleep, but you sit up when you feel the vehicle slow to a stop outside of the compound. Alejandro’s compound.

You lean forward, intrigued by the sudden stop. Alejandro gets out and approaches Graves, they both seem tense. The rain continues to pound against the metal of the vehicles. You can barely hear Alejandro and Graves talking, Ghost and Soap step out of the vehicle now standing in the rain. You go to follow the Ghost but he stops you, his body in the way. “Hold your tongue okay?” You just nod as he moves away, you stand next to him, slightly behind and furthest away from the others.

You can barely make out the conversation, your heart starting to pound in your ears as the rain slides down the back of your shirt, you left your jacket in the back seat. Your mask is drenched and sticking to your face uncomfortably. “Are you threatening us?” Ghost growls out, stepping forward. You look over to Graves, your eyes narrowing. You scan from the American over to Alejandro then to Soap, you want to say something, but you follow Ghost’s order.

You can’t hear a word that is being said, you're too preoccupied with watching all the Shadows slowly moving into defensive positions around you. There’s one behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck are standing on end. Suddenly Alejandro lunges at Graves, chaos erupts. You snatch the knife from your thigh holster, taking a large step backwards and lunging low, whipping around and slicing through the heavy military issued pants, digging deep into the Shadows knee.

Slicing through the tendons causing him to stumble, missing his shot. His body slumps to the ground when you hear a sickening wet thunk, one of Ghost’s knives embedded deep in the shadow. You see Johnny on the other side of the car, the brake lights bright in your eyes as you go to help him.

A hand grabs the back of your vest, dragging you backwards. “Get out of here now!” Ghost yells over the rain, shoving you towards the dark forest. “But-!” “JUST GO! GET OUT OF HERE KID! BOTH OF YOU! GET OUT OF HERE JOHNNY!” Ghost growls, his eyes filled with a swirling storm of anger, concern and desperation.

You nod as you grab hold of Soap’s vest, dragging him towards the concrete barrier. He manages to get to his feet, sending himself over the low wall. Soap slides down the slope, firing back at whoever is shooting at him. You didn't quite make it over the barrier in the same spot as Soap, you had to dash a few metres away from him. You flung yourself over the low wall, sending you into a tumbling mess down the slope, narrowly missing the trees and rocks.

Coughing as you push yourself to your feet, your legs feeling like jelly as you stumble through the thick bushes.

“Fuckin’ hell” you curse, you look up to see the light pollution form the nearby town. Branches and twigs snap back in your face as you push your way through the bushes, eventually stumbling into someone's backyard. Your arms are scraped and sliced to shit by the trees, your leg feels like someone kicked you with steel caps. You limp your way to the back door of the house, no lights are on. “Please no one be home” you mumble as you try the door, no luck. You crouch down, hissing when your leg protests against the movement. Ripping a small blade from your ankle holster, you smirk, thankful you didn't lose it in the tumble down the hill.

The house was practically empty, very few helpful items were scattered around. You managed to find bandages, which came in handy to do a half ass job of wrapping your knee. “Joker… this is Ghost. How copy?” Your earpiece crackles to life, you tried your comms before, just after entering the house to no avail.

“Alive… surprisingly” you mumble. “Good to hear from ya lass” Soap’s voice comes through, you smile gently. Happy to know your team is alive and well… maybe the well bit can be disregarded for you. “Good. Are you hurt? Ain’t bleedin’ out like Johnny are ya?” Ghost asks, you shake your head as an answer, even though he can’t see you. “I wouldn’t say bleeding out… but I don’t have as much blood in me as I had at the start of this god forsaken mission.” You state, falling quiet when you make your way down a dark alleyway between two houses.

You hear a small chuckle from Soap and a quiet sigh from Ghost. “I ain’t gonna drop dead if that’s what yer worried about L.T” you quickly add. Pushing your way through a door into a small corner store. “Good, cause I don’t wanna come back and hunt for yer body” Soap jokes, his accent thick over the comms. “We aren’t gonna do any hunting for anyone’s bodies, so keep your eyes peeled and ears open.” “Yes sir” both you and Soap reply.

What feels like an hour is more like ten minutes, you drop down from a balcony, your leg giving way immediately when you land. On your hands and knees you suck in a sharp breath as you lean back onto your heels, you have all agreed to meet at the church in the middle of the town. You’ve made a lot of distance from the very outskirts of town to nearly the middle quickly, light footwork on the tin and tiled rooftops made it easy.

Yet when you decided you needed to go by ground, you had to drop from a significant height.

You whip your head to the side when you hear a low voice talking, shuffling backwards on your ass. Crawling down a few stairs and sticking close to the wall you end up half submerged in a flowing river, a river that’s going through a tunnel. You are pretty sure it used to be a walking tunnel or driving one by the sight of nearly submerged cars.

You can hear Soap talking through the comms, replying to one of Ghost’s shitty jokes. Yet it sounds like Soap’s voice is echoing, like you can hear him talking before it comes through the comms. The next thing you hear is boots hitting the ground and a quiet groan, you peek over the edge of the wall, your hand gripping a pistol you snatched from a Shadow you killed. The dead man's rifle strapped to your back.

You stand quickly with the pistol raised, your eyes locking onto sky blue ones. “Soap?!” You question, lowering the gun as you hobble up the few stairs, drenched from the waist down. “Lass?” The Scotsman asks, his eyes widen as he realises it's you. “I’m assuming you found each other?” Ghost asks through the comms. “Yeah, found her swimming with the fishes” Soap jokes, placing a hand on your shoulder and bringing you into a small side hug.

“What…?” Ghost questions.

“I was hiding in the water cause I didn’t know it was Soap… it was gross” you chuckle, stepping away from Soap with a limp. “What’s wrong with you?” You shrug to the man's question, looking down at your knee.

“I think It got dislocated… but somehow popped it back into place?” You cringe when you lean into it more. “All I know is that it hurts like hell, and I just want to get out of here…” you growl out, moving to walk back down the stairs. “I second that.” Soap states as he follows you.

You’re soaked through, you feel like you swallowed more water than humanly possible. You ended up underwater, sneakily taking out some shadows yet one was able to get the upper hand on you. You ended up back to the ground under the water, desperately holding onto what little air you had left in your lungs before Soap shot the man point blank in the head. Your throat hurts, lungs burning like someone lit a fire in them. The urge to rip the fabric off your head to be able to breathe is strong, yet you flex your fists when Soap looks over his shoulder at you, you’re both holed up in the back of a small store now, trying to figure out where all the Shadows are located.

Ghost is saying something over the comms, you’re honestly not listening to his growling tone. “Joker? You good Lass?” You look at Soap like he’s crazy, in this situation he might as well be. “I feel like I'm breathing through a wet sponge, so I’m just peachy” the sass in your voice causes the Scotsman to chuckle. Suddenly Ghost’s rushed voice breaks through the silence and multiple gun shots ring through the air and the comms. You don’t hear everything as it feels like there’s water lodge in your ears, next thing you know is your sprinting through the open, firing at anything that moves and screams out nonsense.

Ghost is quick to climb the gate, landing with a thump next to you. Soap and Ghost talk as you watch as multiple shadows flood into the area, you hear something about needing a getaway vehicle. “I saw a pickup just across the way when we were running, looked like it still had life” you comment, which sets the plan into stone. Get to the pick up, get the fuck outta here without being shot dead.

You duck and weave through vehicles and tables, shooting and throwing whatever projectiles you had at the Shadows who were not being as effective as General Shepherd expected them to be.

You reach the pick up first, ripping the door open and cramming yourself into the middle, Soap close behind and Ghost throwing himself into the driver’s seat. You can’t do much other than duck down, allowing Soap to shoot and Ghost to drive. You slam into the dash when Ghost slams on the gas in reverse and hits one of the Shadows “I HOPE YOU CAN DRIVE MANUAL!” You yell over the chaos. “FUCK OFF” Ghost sneers as he jams the stick shift into first.

You chuckle quietly as you stay low, preparing for a shitty ride to wherever you are heading.

[saksukei]

simon ‘ghost’ riley has a crush on you

masterlist | subtle things he does for you | simon my love

simon’s feelings hit him like a truck, as if he's a deer caught in the headlights. he only comes to realize it in the heat of the battle, chests heaving up and down as the two of you hide behind a wall for cover. you tell him to reload first and it's something so insignificant, so minute and yet it pieces things together for him. so he does what his first best. swallow the lump in his neck, ignore the swelling of his heart and focus on what’s next.

except

he sucks at it and boy is it evident.

it is so subtle though, subtle enough for it to slip under everyone’s radars including yours. except, captain price is no fool. he's known simon long enough to see the little change in his demeanor when you enter the room. how simon immediately sits up right, in his best posture, giving you a firm nod of acknowledgment.

how simon always looks your way, always. even when you’re not looking, he’ll still check what you're doing, where you are. it’s not intended to be creepy, it's just a form of reassurance that you’re alive, that you’re okay, that he has another chance to confess. (also the type to lean against the door frame and observe you)

what’s shocking is that even during his infamous cigarette breaks, he chooses to hang out with you. he adores the fact that it’s comfortable silence between the two of you. and more importantly, it contains the two best things he needs, silence and you. “what a view” he thinks to himself.

moreso, the lieutenant’s eye for detail is insane. simon is incredibly nuanced, he can notice when your mood is off, when you’re hurt, irritated or whatsoever. he tries to deal with the issue silently, like handing you a bottle of water, leaving a seat for you beside him, ensuring that he does most of the paper work and so on.

simon reacts at the speed of lightning if he notices you’re hurt or in range of fire. he remembers the one time he ran, grabbing you by the waist to make sure you don’t get shot. your small frame clinging against his, your body weight almost nothing to him and he felt lightheaded. he desperately wanted to keep you in his arms but he settles for asking, “you holdin’ up fine?” as he lets you out of his grip.

he enjoys bantering with you so much. such snide and snarky remarks all the time. from “what? can’t handle a little teasing from your superiors?” to “you know it's bad manners cussing behind your lieutenant’s back,” to “thought you were tough?” to “all that back talk, why don't you come and prove it?” he absolutely loves the reactions you give him.

moreso, when he begins getting more and more comfortable, he invites you eat lunch with him as opposed to with the rest of the soldiers. adores the fact that you both can converse without having eyes on the two of you. “plans for lunch?”

oh and of course, the most difficult moment of his life, when you reached forward on your tippy toes to fix his balaclava, simon thought he’d have a heart attack. took all of his strength to not lean forward and press a kiss to your forehead. “looking alright now?” he jokes, you can almost hear his smirk.

he hates the vulnerability, he does. but what he doesn't hate is the fact that it's you. it's you he’s being vulnerable with. and he repeats it to himself every night that you’re the best choice anyway.

[longing-for-the-past-times]

Their reaction to seeing you reading

Task Force 141 x Reader headcanons

notes: I don't know if this was done before, but once I got the idea, I couldn't get it out of my head before writing it down. This is my first time writing headcanons, I hope I did the characters justice :). Let me know what you think about it!

find it on a03 masterlist

Captain 'John' Price

He is headed towards the lounging area after staying overtime because of due paperwork. It is already dark outside and, when he sees the lights on, he thinks someone just forgot them that way.

You may understand his surprised reaction when he sees you sitting cross-legged on the couch, a book in your hands.

“Nearly gave me a heart attack, kid!”

You give him a sheepish smile and hide your face behind the book, staying true to the principle: out of mind, out of sight. You didn’t mean to stay long - you just wanted to finish the chapter. But it ended in a cliffhanger so you had to at least begin the next chapter and the vicious cycle went on.

It doesn’t take him long to realise that you are, in fact, holding a book. And he can’t hide his grin when he figures you must have lost track of time because of it.

“Didn’t take you for a reader, kid!”, he raises an eyebrow as he joins you on the couch, his eyes drifting to the cover. “And certainly did not know you read classics!”

“Always full of surprises, Captain!”, you smile at him as you look around, searching for something. A triumphant smile graces your lips when you find the piece of crumpled paper, and you proceed to put it on the page you remained at, before closing the book.

Definitely asks you about the book you’re reading and what else you’ve read, proceeding to compare your literary preferences

He may not read as much as he did when he was younger, but he can and will boast with the filled bookshelves he has at home

Encourages your reading habits when you are at the base and brings you reading snacks when you decide to spend your evenings in the base’s lounging room, curled up with whatever book you’re reading at the moment

Might sometimes join you with a book of his own. Nobody dares to say anything about the two operators who occasionally spend their lunch break with their noses stuck in a book.

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley

Never been much of a reader as he simply did not have the time, or the available resources

So at first, he does not understand why you are sobbing by yourself in the kitchen, frantically highlighting something with a neon marker

Who did that to you? Did he need to hunt down someone?

It was when he got closer that he realised you were actually reading something and the content must have made you upset

No problem, he’ll track the writer down and-

"Oh, Ghost, didn’t see you there!", you looked up at him, a shy smile on your face.

He is at a loss for words and ends up nodding towards the open book: “Is it any good?”

“Well, I think it would be an insult to say Shakespeare is ‘just good’, don’t you think?”

All he’s thinking of are those literature classes he should have paid more attention to.

He quickly steers the conversation in another direction, asking you about training and whatnot. Something blooms in his chest when he sees you setting the book away in an instant, a warm smile gracing your features as you turn your attention towards him.

He spends the following evening researching Shakespeare’s works as much as he can. He’d caught a glimpse of the book you’d been reading, Hamlet, and he ends up ordering an annotated copy.

It takes him an entire week to get through it, but the look on your face when he asks you about the book is priceless.

You spend the entire afternoon talking about it (you talk, he mostly listens), and he was surprised he didn’t notice your reading habits earlier. When you talked about books, you could light up the room with your enthusiasm and passion.

Is the kind of man who would build you a bookshelf from scratch

“Your books wouldn’t fit in a standard bookshelf anyway. And I can paint the wood to match the tone of your walls.”

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish

The type of man that says he’ll wait for the movie to come out

And if there is a book adaptation, he'll definitely make you watch it with him to prove his point

You spend the next hours pointing out why the book was better than the movie, while he tries to convince you otherwise

Constantly teases you about your reading habits, but secretly, he loves to watch you read. The array of emotional states you seem to go through when reading fascinates him.

"Maybe we should start calling you Belle from now on, bonnie. You know, the Belle from Beauty and the Beast - the one who's always with her nose stuck in a book?"

One day a recruit decides to prank you and hides your current read in the men's showers.

Soap takes note of your distracted state, but doesn't push it. He knows you'll come to him when it feels right.

Until he stumbles upon what was left of your book when preparing to take a shower. He recognizes it only by the vibrant colour of the cover as the pages are wrinkled and illegible, due to the water exposure.

It does not take him long to find the culprit. He was too busy boasting about his "achievement" to his team-mates, in the locker room.

Soap makes sure he regrets his actions by assigning him to latrine duty for the following month.

He also makes it his personal mission to buy you another copy of the book. The only problem is that he does not remember the title. Or the author. Or the plot.

"It has this orange cover, with two people on it! And there's white text on it too!"

Safe to say, the librarian is unimpressed by his comprehensive description.

So he has to spend an entire night scrolling through an online library page to find it.

But it's all worth it in the end. He'll never forget the shocked expression on your face when he handed you the hastily wrapped book. Or the wide smile that spreads across your face, followed by a tight and warm hug.

He might buy you more books in the future, just to have you grin at him like that.

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Like Ghost, he didn't particularly care for reading. It was not that he didn't like it, he just had other priorities

He wasn't even aware of your reading habits until you were both stuck in a safe house, waiting to be evacuated.

You were leaning against the wall, next to him, when you pulled a book out of your pocket.

He had to do a double take- why did you have a leatherbound book in your pocket? Were you carrying it throughout the entire mission? What if you got shot - was the leather thick enough to stop the bullet if it got past your tac vest?

"Gaz, you're staring."

"Just took me by surprise, love."

You playfully rolled your eyes at the endearment, your hand leafing through the pages.

He knew you could feel him watching you, but he couldn't help himself. He felt like he just unlocked a new part of your personality.

"Is it any good?"

"Do you want to read it?"

"I wouldn't mind you reading to me..."

Once again, you rolled your eyes in fake annoyance but complied with his request and went back to the beginning of the chapter.

The story was quite gripping, something about a rich bachelor who must be in search of a wife. Kyle tried to focus on the story, but he was more intent on enjoying your calm and soothing voice.

He unintentionally fell asleep and you did not realise until you felt the weight of his body leaning against your shoulder.

As retaliation, you forced him to join you on a trip to the library. He did not bother to hide the fact that he did not see it as a punishment, not when he knew it would make you happy.

He let you drag across the entire fiction section and patiently listened to you describing all the books you've read. He also took a lot of mental notes on the books you intended to read in the future- if only the covers did not look so similar!

Eventually discovers he's more of an audiobook person.

So he would listen to the novel you were currently reading, excited to meet with you at the end of the day and discuss it with you.

[notthefirstfallenangel]

Forbidden to die

Pairing: John Price x Fem!Reader

Warnings: ADULT CONTENT. 18+, language, violence, dark topic, kind mention of rape, blood, angst.

Summary: Captain Price endures the horrors of a Russian prison as a prisoner of war, and finds some solace in his cell neighbour, who helps him stay strong with their late-night chats.

Words: 4.1k

A/N: Please, do not read if you're sensitive to the topics mentioned! AND DO NOT READ IF YOU'RE A MINOR!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

Price’s skin was slick with sweat, his joints felt stiff, and he was in pain. Everything was made worse by the hot and humid air that clung to him.

The cell was a cold and wet place. Its dampness had seeped through the ground, creating a pool of water at the bottom of each cell. The moisture settled into the skin, making it feel like a second layer.

The only light came from a few bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling right outside.

The air was wet, like the smell of an abandoned body. The smell of urine was heavy on the air in the cell.

Price could smell death; oh, how he could smell death. He could smell it like a perfume, like a memory.

After a moment, he realised that he smelled the same way.

Price sat in the corner, leaning his back against the wall. The thin pillow was almost flat from long hours of use, and he felt every lump and ridge against the back of his head. The wounds on his back screamed with each movement. His legs stuck out in front of him, toes touching the cold floor, which had been his bed for a month. Every one of his muscles ached, and they felt heavy. He was exhausted and weak. His skin had gone cold and felt like frozen rags.

He could hear his stomach growling like a hungry beast.

“We get dirty, and the world stays clean. That’s the mission,” he whispered to himself. His features were sharp, and his face was thin, like a skull, consumed by hunger. His mouth was dry with a constant thirst for water.

“Are you already losing your mind?” 

The voice was soft, muffled by the steel and concrete walls, and seemed to be coming from a few feet away, in the direction of the cell next to him.

Of course, you heard him. You’d gotten used to bickering in whispers when the guard wasn’t paying attention because too tired or else caught up in their own job.

“I already lost that.” He cursed low and hoarse, his voice low and husky. Sweat trickled down his face, and he wiped it away with his hand.

“Don’t say that.”

“What’s left to keep sane? The food? The water? The rats?”

Price scoffed, his tone sarcastic.

“Me...?” Like a velvet whisper, your voice drifted through the air, barely audible from behind the thick walls. 

“Right. You,” He spoke softly, his voice low.

“. . I think you’re going a little nuts, okay? You don’t want to lose it and leave me here alone, right?”

Price smirked, “You’re the sanest one in here?”

He heard the sound of your sweet, soft giggle. “Yes, that’s why you can’t lose your mind.”

He stayed quiet for some time. There was no sound in the prison save for the wind and the lament of some other prisoners that echoes in the cold Russian night.

“Why the hell are you even in here?”

“I got caught, like everybody in here. like you.”

“That ain’t what I meant.” His accent was thick in his throat. “What were you doing?”

“Undercover...trying to get some info about the Inner Circle.”

The voice of the wind echoes in the prison like a banshee’s lament. It howled as it passed through the open gate and drifted through the prison towers. The wind kissed his skin with icy fingers, nipping and biting at exposed skin, pulling at exposed flesh with frozen fingers.

“What’s your cover story?” he asked.

You hesitated at first: “Mistress of one of Makarov’s lieutenants...Alexi.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I’m not.”

“You were screwing Makarov’s right-hand man?” His voice came out harsher than he intended it to.

“That was part of the job.”

“Right. You were… screwing him for intel.”

He stared at the wall before him, almost picturing you in the cell with him. He imagined your face, your hair, the way you would look at him, sometimes shy and scared. Other times you sounded calm and unapologetic in that attitude that he liked and wanted to see more.

“Someone had to do it,” you said, bringing him back from his thoughts.

Price chuckled, tone thick with scorn. “You volunteered, did you?”

you laughed. “Shut up!”

“Oh, I’ll shut up, alright,” the amusement was evident in his voice.” Don’t want to hear about you riding Makarov’s lapdog.”

“I’m surprised they haven’t killed me... yet.” Your tone was flat, but there was a barely perceptible undercurrent to the message that he couldn’t quite read.“Well, what’s your story?” you added.

“Ain’t as interesting as yours,” he said with a tone like gravel, spitting out each word like a gunshot. His arms crossed over his chest, and he was in the process of becoming a skeleton.

His voice dropped to a whisper. “Took a bullet for my bloke, got myself captured.”

The guard on duty bangs on his cell door and yells, his accent thick, “Shut up in there, or I’ll open the door and break your face.”

 He tried to remain calm, but the tension inside him simmered. He answered in Russian, his tone sharp but still filled with a Scouse accent.

He stared up at the ceiling, the pain in his back a dull throb. The sound of his breath filled his ears, the acrid smell of mold slowly filling the cell.

You didn’t talk for the rest of the night.

Slowly, he drifted off.

The days passed the same: he got up, worked, and if things went well, he got through the day without being beaten up. John looked forward to the night, when he was in his cell and you were in the one next to him. If the night guard was temperate enough, they exchanged words. If not, one of them would knock on the wall, signalling to each other that they were still together and fighting to survive. It became a routine or ritual between them, showing how they still cared about each other despite being separated by the walls. It was a way for them to maintain hope during their captivity.

Price lies alone in his cell. He was dirty, his shirt slightly ripped, and his pants were dusty and rough. His skin was damped and warm from the cold.

His eyes watched the light of the door crack as guards passed by, each moment seeming like an eternity. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he imagined the relief that would come the day they got out of there. He heard a faint knock from the other side of the wall.

The cell walls reverberated with a pattern of short knocks. It was subtle yet unmistakable. He knew it was you, just as you recognised his rhythm. You found a way to connect and communicate even in their respective cells. Your fingers tapped against the walls in the familiar pattern sending a whisper of sound into the dimly lit silence. Although you couldn’t see each other, you knew the other one was waiting and would be able to talk as soon as the guard left.

Price’s eyes flickered to the wall with each knock, his fingertips twitching on the cold floor and his body aching from the day of work. His shoulders sank deep as he strained to hear her voice. He reached out, running a hand roughly across the wall, and knocked back quickly, each tap puncturing the darkness with a sense of hope and calm.

“How’s your back?” you whispered.

Price paused a moment, his eyes flickering with a pang of emotion at your voice. He looked at the wall with a sense of longing and hope. “It still stings some, but- I’m okay. “He paused, his eyes watching the dim light of the door crack.” How’re you, love?”

His voice was quiet, and he couldn’t help but imagine the same bruises and wounds covering your body. 

“I’m okay,” you answered. “Do you think Christmas has passed yet?” you asked after a moment.

“Mm, dunno. Feels like forever.” He shook his head and scoffed. “What a shitty Christmas, eh?”

Your giggle was soft, but it caught his ear.” I always celebrate it with my sister...”

“Aye? What do you two usually do?”

“Get drunk..” you laughed” My favourite moment is when we watch fireworks.”

“Mm, sounds like a good night to me.” His words were soft and a bit hoarse, as if the memory had a bitter tang to it.

“What about you?”

Price paused for a moment as if trying to remember the last Christmas he spent. He hesitated and took a moment before he responded.

The tone of his voice was rough like he had a scratchy throat and was drunk on a humid night. It sent a chill down your spine as the words tiptoed down your skin.

“I’ve probably spent the night drinking and playing cards...I can imagine it’s a lot better with family, though.”

He glanced at the wall quickly before his eyes returned to look outside. The moonlight shined through its small cracked window, giving the room an ethereal glow.

The night air was chill, the temperature a breath above freezing. His hands were cold but not frozen.

Even from that living hell, the sky looked dark and intimate as he got a view inside his cell.

“We’ll spend together the next one then.”

“Aye?” His voice was raspy, full of hoarseness as a smile crossed his lips. “Would be real nice.” He paused, his fingers drumming against the floor.

His eyes traced the wall, darting to your location and feeling the space between you shrink as he imagined how close you were. 

“My sister does the best chocolate chip cookies.”

“sounds lovely.” His fingers twitched lightly. He wanted to touch you, be near you, feel your warmth, softness, and touch. “You know what we should do?”

“What?”

“When we get out here- we got a deal, alright?” He leaned towards the wall, almost as if he was going to jump at it to cross your side. The guards passed by, and Price’s eyes tracked them with a cold scowl. He started speaking again when they were far enough.

“We go to your house- and you show me your family Christmas traditions, alright? Then we get drunk together.” His words were filled with hope and longing. He wants this… “You hear me? Promise?” He whispered.

“Yes, I promise..”.

He almost heard you smile as you pronounced those words.

“We can go see Christmas markets and get drunk enough to puke in a dumpster or somethin’. We’ll sing offkey carols. Have a little dance and put up a little tree.” His words trail off as if he was lost in something far beyond the wall that separates them.

You laughed. “And we should watch the Grinch.”

“Yes, yes. The Grinch.” Price laughed and nodded to himself, eyes tracking the wall. “We’ll take turns telling shitty jokes, eat too many sweets, and give each other stupid gifts. I’ll even watch Elf with you.”

His voice was hoarse with laughter, almost as if he was watching it happen. 

“I already know what to get you,” you said.

“Oh? Do tell.” Price leaned forward, his voice filled with amusement, tenderness, and longing.

“One of those ugly Christmas sweaters,” you said,” maybe the one with Rudolf on it.”

“Mm, good.” He laughed as he tried to picture you in a ridiculous sweater and a Santa hat. “But only if you wear one too. I don’t want you showing me up.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of you standing in front of him in a cheesy sweater, a twinkle in your eyes.

“Of course... we’ll match.”

“And we’ll look good doing it.” He chuckled, and the word ‘good’ hung in the air between the wall. His eyes rested on a spot where he thought you were, “It’s a deal, then.” He reached out, his fingertips brushing the wall and his eyes darting to your voice. He had to fight the urge to try and smash the wall to grab you, his body aching with the need to be near you.

“Yes...once we get out of here...” you whispered.

Price’s voice was thick and husky. “We will.” He said with confidence. “I’ll get us out, love. I’ll get us home.”

“I know...”

Price pressed his forehead against the wall, eyes darting back and forth like he was searching for you. He caressed the wall, his hand rubbing against it with the gentle touch of someone in love. He whispered.

“Love, you keep me sane.” 

“We keep each other sane.”

“Damn straight.” He murmured. 

“I don’t know what will happen to us...If we'll ever get out...but it’s forbidden to die, okay?”

Price smiled and nodded to himself. “Agreed, love.” He breathed deeply and shook his head, a sigh escaping his lips. “Agreed.”

The next day, when he was escorted back into his cell after a long day of work yet again. As soon as the guard left, he smiled, knocking twice on the wall. It took a moment before he heard you knock back twice. His heart filled with joy, and his smile broadened.

Later that night, you spoke in the dark, in the silence of the prison. The cold air blew through the open window, bringing a chill rattling your bones.

“...I think I saw you today...” you said quietly. You felt so distant, yet your voice was so close.

 “Mm, did you?”

“I think so...do you have blonde hair?”

“Blonde hair? I’m afraid I don’t, love.” He chuckled softly, “What, you got a thing for blondes?”

You laughed. “No, I thought it was you...wrong person, I guess.”

“Mm…” His heart skipped a beat as he heard your laughter, and your voice was like sweet honey in his ears. He leaned back against the wall, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “What made you think it was me?” His voice was kind and soft, his words filled with affection and curiosity.

“I don’t know...he had a face that could match your voice”.

“A face that could match my voice?” He chuckled. “Do you think I have a handsome face?”

“I don’t know, I've never seen you.”

“But ya can imagine me, right?” His voice was gentle, his words filled with affection.

“I can, yes...”

“Mm? And how do ya picture me in that head of yours?” 

“You tell me if I’m wrong, okay?” you thought for a moment. “I pictured you tall, with brown hair and brown eyes. No, green. Green eyes?”

“Mm… “He paused a moment, and a small smile spread across his lips. “You got it almost spot-on, love.” His voice broke the silence between you, the walls feeling as thin as air.

“What did I miss?”

“Tall, brown hair, yes…but I have brown eyes.” He paused. “And a pretty handsome face, if I say so myself.” He laughed gently, his voice thick with pride. 

“Don’t you have a special characteristic? Something that would help me identify you, like glasses or something?”

He chuckled, and there was a warmth to his voice as he answered. “That would be my iconic moustache, love.”

“You have moustaches??”

He snorted and burst out laughing. “Just wait till you see me, love. You’ll know the stache, and ya can’t miss it.” His eyes flickered, staring at the wall and imagining your reaction to his moustache - and to his face.

You laughed.

“You’re going to love the stache.” A soft smile crossed his lips, and he let the comment hang before he said something that caused him to smirk as if he was imagining seeing your reaction. “Most men aren’t as handsome as me, love.” He said, his words filled with confidence.

“You’re too confident.” you yawned a little.

“Tired, love?” His voice was tender and low, the word ‘love’ almost inaudible, but it hung thick in the air between you.

“mhm,” you said softly.

He sighed. “I think it’s time for both of us to get some sleep, love.” He leaned against the wall, exhausted and tired. “Good night, love.” He murmured with a soft smile.

“‘Night, John.”

He nodded to himself and stretched, his voice thick with exhaustion. A yawn escaped him as he settled in to get some sleep, the walls feeling far thinner than they actually were.

-

The smell of faeces and blood clogged his nostrils. It was a smell that reminded him of the times he wasn’t allowed to look back when he was running when he first joined the army. It was the smell of fear, the scent of uncertainty. It was the smell of death.

It was like a cross of pungent illness; his stomach churned, but the pain distracted him enough.

The injuries on his back were burning, like fire licking the skin. His left arm was throbbing and practically numb, like his entire left arm was made of jelly.

His stomach growled at him, the sound loud in the dark. His hunger echoed in his head, the painful howl of his voracious appetite.

But in a way, he preferred starving to eat that disgusting soup that tasted like burnt.

That day, the guard on duty was the one who didn’t let them talk. Price sighed and slowly knocked on the wall to let you know that he was still there, still alive.

Silence answered.

Price’s fist clenched as the silence continued. He banged on the wall with all his strength, a grim resolution to the knocking. He knew you were still there - you had to!

Silence.

His voice was ravaged a raspy rattle as if a cancer was eating his throat and lungs.

The hollow thumping of Price’s fists against the wall. The sound was deafening in the room, the echoes bouncing against the walls.

The prison was filled with the slogging of boots trudging along the stone floor, all of these footsteps echoing, bouncing back and forth from cell to cell, like eyes flashing in the darkness.

“Quit that!” a guard shouted from down the hallway.

Price’s face dropped, and he grumbled, but the hammering continued. The guard’s voice came closer, and Price’s eyes narrowed - but he didn’t stop.

Every excuse was good to beat the prisoners up anyways. The guards opened the door and knocked him down with a punch on the jaw.

Price’s head snapped back, and his jaw went numb, causing his words to be muffled and unclear - but he still managed to spit words back at the guard. 

"F-fu-fuck o-off…" He staggered back, a bloody nose dripping onto his lips. His back pressed against the wall.

A hard fist slammed into his gut, and he doubled over in agony. The pain was intense like a white-hot poker stabbed through his stomach and twisted. Price gasped for breath, trying to inhale as he clutched his abdomen.

He heard the guard’s voice shout at him, something about ‘not hearing him again’, but the words didn’t register.

Love - where are you?

That was all he could think of.

He closed his eyes because the world was too painful to bear. His head fell forward, and he cried hot tears. It would be so easy to give up, but something held him together. He couldn’t stop himself from shaking like a dog fresh out of water. Nothing made any sense, but still, he clung to shreds of sanity: he knew his name, he knew his father’s face, the feel of his mother’s embrace, his team, you and that holding on was better than letting go no matter how much pain he felt. The room spun around him as though the floor were turning beneath him like a spinning top. His stomach emptied itself on the floor; two days’ worth of food and water burned its way out and splattered all over the guard’s shoes and pants.

The guard groaned in disgust- he mumbled curses against Price and left him, too disgusted to hit him again.

Price sinked to his knees; his arms were weak and tremble beneath the weight of his body, and the tray clenched in his grip. Sweat beaded down the sides of his face and rolled into his eyes, but he barely blinked, staring ahead blankly like a man in shock or a zombie staring vacantly at its prey. A low rumbling built in his chest before exploding into an agonising growl that silenced the room. Price’s trembling intensified as he rocked back and forth on his knees, unable to control himself.

The pain in his stomach was intense, leaving him dizzy and nauseated. Swallowing the pain and nausea, he felt a sharp pain in his throat and licked his lips. It tastes like blood and vomit.

His disappointment, his shame, his birthright. Again, the contents of his stomach seeped out as he emptied it onto the floor, a tide of bile.

It was late at night when he heard your cell door open and your body being thrown into the room. Then it slammed shut. Your soft, constant groans drifted from the ground to his ears. A shuffle sounds as you pulled yourself away from the door and toward the corner of the room. You could feel your cell shake slightly each time the guard walked by on his rounds, his heavy boots announcing his footsteps that echoed down the long corridor. Your head throbbed, every inch of your skin tight with pain. A massive bruise had swelled up on your cheek where the guard's fist had connected with it. On the ground next to you was a bowl of thin soup, half-eaten by roaches that have scurried across its surface and into the corners.

Your body was tired, broken, and bruised. You felt pain everywhere; your eyebrow fractured open, your ribs cracked, and you were nauseous and light-headed.

Price stirred and listened, his eyes flickering, studying the wall intensely, and he tried to discern what you were doing.

His lips parted to say something, but his words caught in his throat.

He could hear your sobs. You were so quiet, afraid someone could hear how they had broke you down.

Price listened in silence, then closed his eyes and sighed. He pushed himself up to sit on the floor, legs still stretched out in front of him. His lips parted to ask you a question, but he didn’t want to disrupt your grief.

Your sobs slowly transitioned into gasps of breath, your voice catching in your throat. 

Price grimaced at the thought of your abuse. His eyes darted from the wall to the door to see if any guards were nearby. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper. “What… did they do to you..?”

But he already knew, didn’t he?

"The bastards…motherfuckers…" The anger in Price’s voice was clear. You could almost feel the wall shake as he hit it. Price’s rage and fury came through the walls.

“Stop,” you said, exhausted” They’re going to hear you.”

“Let ’em!” The answer was flat, cold.

“they’re going to beat you up again...We have to be clever, not stupid.”

Price’s fist slammed into the wall, the sound echoing, ringing off the bars. The walls shook from the impact of his knuckles, his fist bursting with warmth.

Price muttered a curse under his breath. He spitted, his voice quiet and gruff in the darkness. It reverberated through their shared cell like thunder, ringing in Price’s ears and ringing in his heart.

There was a small sound, a wet, soggy snuffle. You were crying. He wanted to pull you into his arms, hold you and tell you everything would be alright. But he couldn't.

Instead, he softly whispers, “Don’t forget yourself, love.”

You didn’t answer.

“.. Don’t do this. Don’t let them break you, alright?” Price’s eyes narrowed, and his face hardened. His voice was cold, stern. He struggled to raise himself, his knees weak and his whole body aching. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare!” he hissed.

He could almost picture you curled into yourself, small and scared in the dark. He hated that monsters more than ever for hurting you.

You were what you were, a survivor like him. And he’d do anything to protect you.

“You stay strong. You won’t give in.”

“... we’ll get out of here, right? Together”

“Damn right.”

[konigsblog]

i have come to humbly ask for more kidnapper!141

torture with kidnapper!141...

tw: non-con, rape, kidnapping, punishments, dark content, recording, pregnancy mention, afab!reader.

dead dove: do not eat. 18+ MDNI 🔞

all four of the threatening and intimidating, strong males have different ways at punishing you and making sure you understand the rules.

of course, as a captain and a leader, the one who usually punishes you for acting out of order, is price — i mean, it's in his nature as a captain to boss around his victims recruits, to make sure you know exactly what'll happen to you if you misbehave.

johnny feels horrible the next morning as sickness runs through his body at the sight of you, as if he's some kind of monster. gaz as well, feels depraved, having done something so inhumane and cruel towards his perfect dove, seeing you spread out on the table, getting used and recorded.

they're disgusting and their behaviour is beyond torturous, with their paces never slowing down, only quickening, and their already tight grip getting firmer and tighter with each thrust. you're not even sure whos inside of you right now, reduced to an unconscious, fucked-out plaything.

eventually you're left without a choice but to obey at their demands, looking into the camera shoved into your face whilst simon buries his face between your thighs, cleaning your bloodied, swollen and bruised cunt up. his tongue is buried inside your tight hole, lapping at your sweet cunt with his boner aching, tip drooling onto the concrete, basement floor.

seeing you squirm away breaks their hearts — you just don't understand that they want the best for their pretty angel. they see your blood, the crimson against your thighs, and the wetness mixed with their hot load.

it'd be a real shame for you if you happened to get pregnant, right? :(

[fictionalmenxyn]

What it’s like dating the Task 141 and Los Vaqueros

Ghost

He is definitely protective of you, if your both shopping he definitely would either hold your hand or be pretty much glued to you.

Definitely eye balls people if they look at you in a flirty way, he will show them that your his whenever your in public

If you enjoy reading he’ll probably look at the books you read and what genres then look for more books like that

If you are a couple and your not apart of the Task Force, he’ll definitely buy you books as a gift before he leaves

And if you’re not awake before he leaves and he doesn’t wake you up he’ll leave a note like ‘to keep you company while I’m gone -Si x’

If your into fitness and athletics let’s say you’re in for fun. He will ask about what type of fitness or sports your into then he’ll ask the boys about how to play or somethings to say about the sport

If you enjoy a sport like football he’ll grab a ball and you’ll end up playing either one vs one or if the boys see you’ll play a proper match

Or if your on the gym side rather than sports. He’ll ask what type of day is your workout like for example if it’s Wednesday it would be leg day. And if it was he’ll do the workouts with you.

After a long day he’ll go to your room and lay with you on your bed. Talking about anything that may come to mind or he’ll ask how your day went and what plans are for tomorrow.

If your aching from training or working out, he’ll offer you a massage. He doesn’t show it but he loves to do small things like this he knows you love the small things in life and he enjoys seeing your pretty face smile at his act of kindness.

Then when it comes to night time he’ll depending if he has had a rough or stressful day he’ll let you hold him. Resting his head on your chest as he wraps his arms around your waist. On other days he’ll hold you close to him and god for it you need the toilet in the middle of the night cause there is little chance you can escape his arms.

The only time he’ll sleep is when he is with you. You are his safe place and you know it. You give him all of your love and respect because you know he deserves it.

Like mentioned before he loves to show his love with acts of kindness and when your in private he shows his love with touch. Weigh it’s just simply holding hand or holing your small body against his huge body.

PDA: 10/10 he knows your his and he’s yours but some people don’t know that so he shows it. Although he isn’t a fan of kissing you in public he’ll show other people your his in other ways. It can go from waist grabbing, hand holding, hug from behind or an arm around your shoulder. But for the person looking at you suggestively or flirting with you. Except him to give his famous death glare or a ‘she’s taken’ maybe a minor/small threat depending how much they are flirting with you.

Soap

He loves to give you hugs wherever and whenever. No matter who’s there and who isn’t

If your making a snack or pouring a drink he’ll come up behind you and give you a hug and a kiss on the cheek

When your both working out together if you do, he’ll mess around if it isn’t training

He’ll gently push you over if your doing a plank or push ups. But you get him back whenever you can. You’ll use your leg and somehow flip him over when stretching.

When it comes to movies, he’s the man to be cuddling. If you want to watch a romantic/girly he’ll at first complain but once it’s on and it’s either white chicks or the notebook he will watch it to the very end. Even after the movie he’ll quote a few things and the other lads will look at him confused while your laughing.

If your not apart of the military when he comes back he will either plan a date for you both or if your more introverted he’ll make or attempt a nice meal and you’ll both watch your favourite movies.

If your into sports, for a laugh he’ll buy you a Scottish jersey. And if your both watching the match and Scotland score expect to have a headache because of how loud he shouts.

When it comes to night time he likes to spoon and the thing is you both don’t mind being big/little spoon. As long as he is touching you and knows your by him he’ll feel safe.

And in the middle of the night if you feel thirsty or need the toilet he’ll wake up and ask if your ok and then he’ll say ‘hurry up I’m already gettin’ cold’ you smile and be as quick as you can because you also don’t want to waste any more time not in each others arms.

Feel like his love language is either touch or quality time. Whenever your with him he wants to be active and have fun so when your both tired later you both can cuddle together.

PDA: 5/10 feel like he knows your his and he’s yours but every so often your get the kiss on your cheek you he’ll hold your waist

Gaz

I fell like he is definitely a wind up. Like he’ll tickle your sides when your cooking or something. Or he’ll make some flirty comment to you in the middle of public but he’ll whisper it.

He treats you like a princess, he’ll buy you your favourite chocolate and if you aren’t in the military he’ll definitely buy you trinkets from each place.

Like Ghost, after a long day of training or maybe after a mission. If your aching he’ll offer to massage you. And he’s really good at it as well.

Feel like he’s the type to help you cook when your together. And he loves it especially if it’s baking, usually it would end with you two covered in flour but the food you make comes out perfect.

If your a quiet person he’ll like to lean against you while you read. Or if you paint he’ll plop himself next to you and admire your art and after will compliment it followed with a flirty comment.

Loves going on small dates like going to the seaside and buying fish and chips. If you both feel competitive you’ll go mini golfing or bowling. At the end of the date he’ll ask for your opinion and if it was good he’ll keep note of what you enjoyed and where you enjoyed it.

If your in the military with him just know he will come and hang out with you in your room. He’ll knock then let himself in then walk over to your bed and lay there. He’ll ask what your up to and make a conversation.

If you two are working out. You both would go on runs together or hike. Then when you get back you’ll both hang out in the break room. You could be simply reading maybe watching tv. But he’ll be by your side now matter what.

But if you want some alone time he’s completely fine with it as he knows if your the type to enjoy alone time he’ll give you space till your ready to hang out again.

Feel like his love language is physical touch and quality time like Soap. But when it comes to physical touch it could simply just be yours/his head on one another’s shoulder.

PDA: probably 6/10 feel like he’ll hold your hand and kiss you on the top of your head but he knows the public wouldn’t like to watch you two make out.

Price

Feel like he’s a male wife (idk if it’s the correct term) but when your ill, injured or bedridden he’ll clean the whole house, wash the dishes, vacuum around the place. He’ll definitely make you a nice breakfast to have in bed too.

Feel like he’s a good cook, he has a small little cabinet with his seasonings and will cook a feast when you don’t feel like it.

If your at base, every morning he’ll make a coffee or tea and bring it to you with a small biscuit on the side (bourbon,custard cream or whatever you like)

If he reads the news paper and your next to him you’ll rest your head on his shoulder. He’ll place a hand on your thigh and gently squeeze it ever so often from habit.

If your up before him you’ll do the exact same as you both treat each other with respect and kindness.

If your on the quiet side (introvert), he’ll buy you something you enjoy doing and maybe he’ll join in that activity or attempt it. If it’s reading he will gift you a thick book or a book set and when it’s night time and your reading he will sit with you and hold a small torch for you while you read. Sometimes he reads along with you.

If your on the active side, he’ll offer to go to the shooting range if your at base. Or he will time you in running if you enjoy it. If you go to the gym he’ll join you and if you lift weights and he sees it’s easy for you he tells you to put more on and he’ll spot for you

When it’s night, he will hold you close to him and he will kiss you and say ‘night, love’ and you’ll say the same back and cuddle together all night long.

Feel like his love language is gift giving or quality time. He loves seeing your face light up when you see something he bought you and especially if you had been wanting said item for ages. He also love spending as much time with you as possible but you both respect privacy when needed.

PDA: 3/10 feel like he won’t need to worry as he knows you’re more than capable of telling people to leave you alone but if they won’t leave he’ll come over and make you walk away.

Alejandro

He’s definitely a romantic person but he’ll be as romantic as possible but to your comfort. He’ll hold you next to time in briefings or his hand on your thigh.

Every morning when you make yourself and him breakfast he’ll hug from behind and kiss you on the temple and say ‘good morning hermosa (beautiful)’ and you’ll give him a kiss. If you need or ask he’ll help you cook breakfast or any meal.

You live when he cook with you. Cause he looks so good doing it, in fact whatever he does makes you go giddy. He’s just that type of man.

He makes you feel happy and he knows that so he proud that he is capable of doing that.

Loves teaching you Spanish if you can’t speak the language. Every so often you remember a word and you say it like ‘how’s your day going, Estimado? (My dear)’ And he’ll smile and then tell you about his day. Sometimes you say words he hasn’t taught you and he’ll ask how you knew it and you’ll laugh and say google translate and he’ll laugh with you.

If your athletic he’ll ask what things your into and then you’ll either teach him or he’ll teach himself from the rest of the team or YouTube. Then one day he’ll ask to play and you’ll both be playing that sport for hours.

After a long day he’ll run you a nice warm bath and place your pyjamas on the sink counter and ask if you want to watch a movie after.

Feel like he’s the type to take you to a restaurant for your date but he knows if your not into experience places he’ll take you out to a nice small and quiet restaurant and he’ll pay for you.

In the night he will wrap his arms around your waist while you place an arm on his chest and your head in the side of his neck. Sometimes your play with his hair and he’ll smile at you and give you a kiss.

PDA: 9/10 he knows your his and he’s yours but sometimes these people either don’t care or don’t know so he’ll show them. And if they don’t care he’ll give them a few words and a curse word in Spanish.

Rudy

You love him so much! He’s such a sweetheart. Every morning he’ll give you a kiss and compliment you.

He’ll ask how you are and how your feeling. Then you will ask the same for him and you want to give him all your love because that is what he does with you.

If your a introvert he will ask what you enjoy doing. If for example your into pottery or clay he’ll buy some or take you to a local pottery shop.

If your extroverted once again he’ll ask what your into. If you enjoy sports he’ll ask if you watch any and what team you support and he’ll learn about the team and sport.

He’ll take you out on dates, they would be fun and enjoyable ones as well. He’ll take you to the beach and have a picnic then go swimming in the ocean or something like he’ll take you to a museum, art gallery or aquarium depending what you like most. And he’ll ask mid way through if your ok and if your enjoying the date.

After a day out he’ll ask if you want to go get some ice cream if you didn’t have dessert or didn’t go out to eat.

When it’s night time. He brush his fingers through your hair and ask how your day went. If you couldn’t tell he loves knowing about how you are and how your day went. He likes to know if your well and happy if your not he’ll ask about it and comfort you.

When it comes to sleeping you both hold each other close and you kiss his forehead and whisper a good night.

His love language might be either words of affirmation or acts of service. Thought the day you will tell him you love him so much and that he makes you happy. And he’ll do the same back. With acts of service, feel like if your feeling bad or overwhelmed he will clean up a pile of dirty clothes that you forgot about or he’ll make you your favourite snack and will watch whatever movies you want.

PDA: 4/10 he doesn’t show it but you can tell when he’s jealous or worried about you cause of the person looking at you or trying to flirt with you. But you are capable of telling the person your taken and not interested. If they keep going he will tell them that you already said no and he’ll give you a kiss on the temple and you’ll both walk away.

Hope you like this, idk if this is what you think of each character but this is what I feel like they will be like in a relationship I will make more of these if you enjoy them! :)

If you want more feel free to ask what type or I’ll probably come up with something but still feel free to ask! :D

[lunarw0rks]

Angst Drabble where task 141 thinks reader was KIA but they just being held captive and was probably tortured until reader escaped?

☾𓂃❛🍰❜┊ we buried you

warning(s): platonic!141, canon-typical violence, torture mention, blood/injury, medical procedures, hurt/comfort, gn!reader ♡ masterlist // requests // ask box

you already looked dead and felt it even more. bloodied, beaten, and deprived of proper food and water for weeks. but you had your chance to escape; one chance, a slim one.

your captors' facility had been raided — before they could restrict you to a chair again. the man who was in charge had been dropped through one of the windows, and the commotion in the prison's corridors was too chaotic for anyone to hear the faint gunshot.

the ringing, and feeling of water trapped in your ears — it was a blessing given all the overstimulating chaos. no one was looking for you, not while they were defending their compound.

you lifted your head from your blank stare in your lap once you heard the heavy thump of his body. you crawled to the warden's corpse, fingering the speak button on his radio, but your vision was too doubled to focus. on top of it, you weren't sure you could speak. you gave up on that the second day into imprisonment. no words resulted in punishment, but so did the use of them. it was a double-edged sword of anguish.

it was now or never; any longer and you would catch an infection or bleed out from your injuries.

to find his gun, you would have to roll the weight of a grown man onto his stomach. maybe last week, before you sustained a broken rib you would've. but now? you could do nothing except stagger through the empty corridors with his keycard, deadened eyes doing little to observe a threat.

the luminance of the afternoon sun nearly knocked you down, an achy forearm raised to block the sheer brightness of the star. your best course of action was to keep moving towards the sounds of friendlies; now was not the time to be the hero you were trained to be.

it was a desert area, only adding to the dryness in your throat and eyes. the distant voices of soldiers, British ones grew louder as you advanced down the valley, eventually seeing a tank in view. what sounded like an officer or general, his shouts were interrupted by the downright grisly sight you were. a military undershirt matching his and your undergarments — crimson stains in the fabric, your skin, the cuts and gashes, bruises big and tiny, sunken and hopeless features.

❝don't move an inch!❞ he bellows despite you already stopped in your tracks, bare feet blistering against the torrid sand. it was only fair in a land full of terrorism — assuming anyone could be an enemy. his men raised their rifles as the officer approached steadily, the force of his squad as backup.

the keycard smears with your bloody fingertips fell to the sand before you turned your arm to him, flashing your only chance at getting back to your men; an insignia for the 141 across that traveled down your forearm.

his gaze softened as he gripped the tender flesh of your arm, inspecting the ink tattered by injury. he gives it a harsh rub with a wetted finger — but the tattoo is very real.

your legs buckled beneath you once you knew you were safe as if your broken body could only stay upright for minutes under the sizzling sun. you crumpled against the sand, eyes droopy and about to clench shut.

the last of the commotion you heard was the officer speaking frantically into his comms — and most notable, a familiar name. captain price.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

❝bleeding christ...❞ price muttered as you wheeled past him limp on a gurney. you were supposed to be KIA, buried and dead for months now. your comms had been lost, and everyone else in that transport didn't make it. but you were here, and barely breathing.

how you managed to stand, let alone remain lucid enough to identify yourself to British forces, he couldn't comprehend it. however, your captain wasn't surprised — you were tough as nails.

the medics worked tirelessly; wrapping you in cooling blankets, inserting a central line, IVs pumping fluid, and a feeding tube to slow feed you until your gut could handle nutrients again.

for hours; they induced your slumber, some much-needed shuteye as the lines and medications did their work on you. though you hadn't been moving much, your attempts at speaking and panicked looks around the medbay were inhibiting your ability to rest. but right now, your shallow breaths were like a living miracle.

you survived and made your escape out of sheer willpower — no one would forget this.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

soap was the first to sit with you, reading from a sports magazine. his logic? if you're up and bickering with him again, that means you're alright. your eyes would flutter open for seconds at a time, a small frown pointed at your chatty visitor, then they would shut again for hours. anything was better than nothing.

gaz and ghost only visited through the window into the medbay, a few minutes of observing your bruised body before they forced themselves to move along. or the captain did. the world couldn't stop for you, as much as he wanted them all to be there for you when you were lucid.

it was captain price that was. he gave the other three a light assignment, something that would keep the trio occupied for a few hours.

after what seemed like two days of medicated slumber, your eyes finally opened fully. you stared down at the stitches all over you, the soft cast around your wrist. most of all, the achy feeling is still ever-persistent despite the sedatives.

❝captain?❞ you croaked in a weak and emotional tone. you weren't in that prison, you were in the 'comfort' of a medbay. perhaps it was the drugs or the hell you had been through, but you were near tears.

his hand outstretched, a palm resting on one of the few uninjured bits of flesh on your arms. ❝you did it, kid. you... made it.❞ price's tone was soothing and low, like that of a parent consoling their maimed child.

what you had been through, he didn't need to know. he didn't ever want to picture it. what mattered most was that you were here and that you had proved yourself in the most heartbreaking sense.

he finds his pocket, pulling out his cell. ❝i have make a call to laswell. i can ask the others to visit if you'd like?❞ price asks softly, eyes remaining on you as he dials the number.

whether you wanted to see the rest of them right now or not, that was your decision. you earned it.