#team 141

[aizawaz]

Task Force 141 headcanons ; ass or tits

Trying to post somewhat consistently, so have this!!

Warnings: afab!reader , butt stuff (oral , fingering , plugs) , impact play , praise & degradation , brief mommy kink (I’m not sorry) , dirty talk , all the good stuff!

! NSFW under the cut !

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley - Tits

Simon is a man that definitely enjoys larger breasts, but ultimately he’s a ‘boobs are boobs’ guy. He’s addicted to the way your plush flesh spills over the cups of your bra (he bought it for you) that fits just a little too small for your taste (he did that on purpose).

Low-cut shirts are Simon’s favourite, he takes them almost as a challenge to see how long he can stare before his dick is hard and he’s all over you. He can never last more than a few minutes, eventually shoving his large and cold hands beneath your shirt to paw at your “perfect fuckin’ tits, dovey. Can’t help but touch ‘em.”

Titty slapper. 100%. Does it as a form of punishment if you were being particularly bratty that day, starting with firm taps to get you riled up before fully administering the punishment. He’s not entirely gentle with it either, slapping until your tits are red and you’re looking all sorry ‘n teary-eyed at him. Even then, Simon doesn’t budge. If anything, he gets crueler, now pinching and pulling on your sore nipples. “C’mon, y’can take it like a big girl, can’t ya?”

Cpt. John Price - Ass

Has a thing for buttplugs, especially if they can vibrate. The first time John turned it on while deep in your pussy, he felt his entire spine tingle and was emptying his balls into you in seconds. Was hooked ever since but never uses it often. Likes to press down on the base with his thumb when it’s buried in your ass, gruffly chuckling when your hips jerk away.

John is a simple man, he sees you with a skirt on and he’s sauntering over to slip his rugged hands beneath the flimsy fabric and grab a handful. Not wearing any panties underneath? Even better, makes everything easier for him. He fondles your ass like it’s nothing but putty, looking over your shoulder to observe how malleable you are and groaning in your ear the whole time. “Hope you weren’t goin’ anywhere looking like this, love. Can’t have anyone lookin’ at what’s mine.”

Similar to Simon, John uses spanking as a punishment. However, he’s not easing you into it like Simon. As soon as his patience is tested, he’s bending you over his knee to teach you a lesson. Don’t expect to leave his lap until his handprint is welted in your skin, angry and red and just the way John likes it. “Maybe next time you’ll be obedient and listen to your Captain, yeah?”

Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish - Ass

Johnny’s an ass eater, I gotta say it. He adores the soft squeal you make when his tongue strays from your drenched pussy to instead prod and lick at your asshole. He’s absolutely filthy with it too, slurping and huffing like a starved animal because the taste of you drives Johnny absolutely mad.

He will slip in a finger or thumb while he’s hitting it in doggy, it always makes you clench so much tighter around his cock and Johnny swears he goes dumb for a second when he feels it. “Christ, bonnie. Y’like me playin’ with your li’l ass, huh? Greedy li’l thing.”

Wear yoga pants/shorts around this man and you’re not leaving without him getting a good feel. Comes up behind you and presses his already hard dick into you, grinding against and delivering a sharp slap to your ass. His hands are merciless, groping and squeezing your pliant skin all while murmuring under his breath about how you’re “just askin’ to be fucked, walkin’ around like tha’.”

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick - Tits

Kyle would live between your boobs if he could, no matter the size. As long as he has something to latch his lips to, he has zero complaints. He could spend hours just kissing and sucking your tits if you’d let him, thinks it’s so intimate feeling how your nipple pebbles against his tongue and your heart hammers against his lips.

Push-up bras are Kyle’s bread and butter, they get him so hard and if you pair it with a low-cut shirt he’s cumming in his pants the moment his eyes find your cleavage. He cannot stop staring either, watching every delicious jiggle of your perky boobs as you do mundane tasks around the apartment. “Fuck, babe, you’re drivin’ crazy. I swear you’re doin’ it on purpose.”

Kyle is his most vulnerable when he has your tits in his mouth, and he’s not ashamed to admit that. Having Kyle in your lap, stroking his weeping cock and whispering soft praises into his ear as he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, gets him closer to heaven than anything else. “You have the prettiest tits, momma. Love you so much.”

© aizawaz on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[ghosties--writing]

Thigh Riding

TW: Smut pure smut

Based on the poll this is a smut story on Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

heres a link to follow me on other platforms

“Come on, I know you want it.” He growled into your ear, his hands snaking up your thighs. You shivered at his touch, leaning the back of your head against his shoulder as you pressed against his body as you pressed against his body as you sat between his legs, his hands keeping your thighs wide open.

“Simon” You whispered, reaching up to softly grab his hair. He lets out a small grunt as he pressed his face against your neck and cheek, showering you in kisses and licks.

“Be good and listen, why don’t you?” He suggested, licking over your ear. You slowly moved around and let Simon sit more on the edge of the bed before resting yourself on his thigh.

“Yea, good job.” He smirked, pressing kisses down your collarbone. He sat back and took you in with his eyes.

“Come on. Ride you slut.” He growled. You whimpered as you started rocking back and forth, stimulating your clit against the fabric. His hands came up and rested on your waist, his hazel eyes staring down at you with excitement. You through your arms around his neck, letting small moans escape your lips.

“Faster.” He smirked as he saw the large wet spot soaking into the fabric. You whimpered as you rocked faster into the fabric. You whimpered as you rocked faster, throwing your head back as you felt your abdomen tighten.

“Simon- I’m- “You whimpered out, making him smirk even more. You leaned against him as you felt yourself finish on his pants.

“Good job.” He purred, motioning you to kneel on the floor. You sunk down between his legs, staring submissively into his eyes.

“Now lick it up.” He smirked, running a hand through your hair.

Feed back is welcomed.

I do not condone my work being published on any platform or to be translated in any way.

Reblogs welcome.

[dtrghost]

please.....one shot of flirty ghost with fem!reader...

flirty ghost... 😫

thank you for the request!!

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x bartender fem!reader

synopsis: Price invites the team out to a night at a renowned club in London after a job well done. Team 141 watches in surprise as Simon flirts with the hot bartender ;). I made simon rich, because I find rich guys hot, so yeah. a bit sub!ghost because he'd do anything for a girl like you.

warnings: allusions to smut (dirty ghost), flirty (probably ooc) ghost, alcohol, pining, hints at sex and arousal, etc.

part 2

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT:

(gif's not mine)

The strong reek of alcohol brought a sigh of relief to the team, watching a variety of people mingle and chat as they maneuvered through the crowd. Team 141 had a rough month filled with death, pain, and shitty drinks which consisted of mostly tap water or anything else they could find that wouldn't kill them. So as a treat for their success, their Captain suggested a night out in London, more specifically in a bar that he had visited with Laswell and some colleagues in the past.

"Alright gentlemen. This isn't your average pub so, behave will ya. I'm not draggin' your arses outta here tonight." He spoke, adjusting his button up shirt with a look shot at Johnny who gave him a mock offended look. Simon rolled his eyes, looking around and ignoring the weird glances at him for the mask he wore. He didn't see the point. He'd much rather drink whiskey on his couch with a shit black and white film rather than waste his money on unnecessarily expensive drinks that'll taste just the same.

But he was there, and he was dying for the liquid gold of a nice drink after the hell he endured for the last month. He strayed from the group, making his way to the bar and taking a seat. His eyes scanned over the brands on display behind the counter.

"Fuckin' hell." He muttered to himself, catching the attention of the bartender who just chuckled. A shiver ran up his spine from the sound as a woman appeared in front of him.

"Take it this is your first time, haven't seen you around before." You started, his eyes widening slightly at you. Your voice was smooth, he thought. Your American accent differed from the various European ones that flooded the room around him.

You took his appearance in with a slight raise of your eyebrow. He wore a black button up that hugged his muscular and beefy frame, the fabric straining as his arms tensed. You noticed the dog tags that hung out as he leaned on the counter, his face entirely covered by the skull mask he wore.

"Yeah, first time." You hummed, gesturing back to the bottles behind you. You glanced behind him, watching as other men that you recognized as regulars seemed to divert their usual tactics away from you tonight, focusing on other women around who'd leave them high and dry all the same. It didn't surprise you, the sheer size of the man in front of you was enough to intimidate anyone. Nobody sat next to him, his presence practically demanding his own space as others squeezed in between people two seats away on both sides to avoid being next to him.

"What can I get for you..." You trailed off, gesturing for a name to put to his masked face. He was usually cautious about who he gave his name to, years of paranoia to thank for that. But this was just one night, and he'd like never see you again.

Damn it to hell.

"Simon. Simon Riley. I'll take the Macallan, the bottle and a glass with no ice." Your eyebrows jumped in surprise, looking at him a bit unsure about how much military made in general. You only had one bottle of Macallan whiskey that night, and it was not cheap.

"Uhh.. that's Macallan No.6. £6,000."

"I know my whiskey love. If you will. You can close my tab too, s'all I want." He slid you his card, and you huffed, grabbing the full bottle and ringing him up. You half expected his card to decline, and when it didn't you were still impressed, sliding the bottle to him with his requested cup.

"Thanks sweetheart. What brings an American girl like yourself to downtown London?" He pondered, relishing the sound of your resonant laugh and the flow of your movements as you took cups and passed refills to other customers.

"I attend the University of London for biomedical engineering." You listened to his low whistle as he took a sip of his drink, sighing in relief at the burning sensation sliding down his throat. You caught sight of his plump, soft lips before he pulled his mask down again, only adding to your attraction to him.

"Pretty and smart. Lucky lad whoever he is." This wasn't your first rodeo, and it wasn't the first time someone attempted to smooth talk you while you worked, but for a voice like his you were more than happy to entertain. You liked his deep baritones, the rasp that accompanied certain words, and how delicious his accent was.

"As if. Nobody's hit the standard for that yet." He hummed approvingly. He liked women who wouldn't settle for anything less than what they wanted, and it made you that much more attractive to him, and made him want you to himself even more, though he was sure he wasn't the only one that wanted that too.

"I never got your name love." You swallowed down the sudden lump in your throat as you forced your heart to stop skipping beats from the pet name. It's not like it was the first time someone called you that, you'd heard it at least 20 times since you opened, but from his lips, his voice gracing your ears, you wish he'd call you that every day. You put on your game face, willing yourself to not be so easy.

"Well, you haven't done anything to earn it so, no dice." He almost groaned, loving the sultry, unimpressed eyes that gazed into his with an aura of confidence that would crush any mediocre man that dared to try his luck with you.

"Name your price, I like a good challenge anyway." He listened to your 'hm', your hands meeting as you twisted your rings around your fingers in thought. He took a second to truly capture your image. The simple yet elegant black blazer that, even though buttoned, revealed a deep V down your chest with a nice view of your cleavage in the center. You'd been there since your freshman year, the owner liked you, the customers liked you, so you got away with a lot, including small breaks in dress code.

You looked expensive, you smelled expensive, and fuck was it the hottest thing he'd ever seen. He loved the light reflecting off the jewelry that decorated your skin, from the multiple piercings on your ears to the thick, steel bands that wrapped around your fingers. You were beautiful, brilliant, and he knew he'd be willing to do anything for another night with you.

"Since you've been nice to me tonight, I'll make it a bit easier. Come back tomorrow with a planned date, dinner preferably. Keep it simple and classy. This is a test, I have expectations that I'm not going to inform you of but they all fall under typical date etiquette. Fail to meet any of them and well, no name for you." For any other woman he'd think they were being outrageous, a full date without knowing their name? Like hell he'd do something like that. But for you? To hear your voice, to be graced with your presence, to know your name, fuck he'd take you on as many dates as you want.

"Deal pretty girl, you'll have the best night of your life." He shifted in his seat at the way your chin jutted upwards for a moment, snickering with a pleased look before you went back to your job. He watched you the entire time, switching from whiskey to water after unconsciously refilling his glass with the bottle in his hand which he ended up moving to the unoccupied seat next to him. He wanted to sober up enough so he wouldn't forget tonight, so he wouldn't forget you.

"Looks like your buddies are cheering you on over there." You noted with a small smile, gesturing to the group of guys wiggling their eyebrows at him with quiet cheers and fists in the air.

"Fuckin' hell."

"Hey it's cute. I'm assuming you're not the flirty type with them huh." You teased. He watched as you popped a quick ice cube in your mouth, sighing in relief as the bar slowly emptied, leaving just the two of them and his team a few seats down. He had to stop himself from thinking about how it'd feel with your tongue and ice against his hot, throbbing cock. How pretty you'd look on your knees, water and spit running down the sides of your mouth as you struggled to take all of his length. He rolled his eyes and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose for a moment before glancing back at them.

"Definitely not. Those fuckers never know when to lay off." You laughed quietly, your hand instinctively covering your mouth as you looked down. He couldn't help himself, reaching over and lifting your head up by your chin, the pad of his thumb pressing down on your smooth skin. You looked surprised by his gesture, the look of self-assurance in his advances clear in his amber eyes as they lazily peered into yours.

"Don't hide that beautiful smile of yours lovie. Wanna see it as much as I can before I leave." You couldn't help the wide grin that spread across your lips, watching his eyes crease which signaled that he was a smily as you were.

"Yeah? And when do I get to see yours huh? I'm oh so curious to know what the dark and edgy skull face looks like under the mask."

"I guess you'll just have to find out after our dinner won't you sweetheart."

"Oi! Ghost ain't layin' it on too much there is he lass?" Soap interrupted, nearly shouting from his place at the bar and directing the attention of the last few people who stuck around to him.

"That's enough from you sergeant." Ghost spat, downing the rest of his water with a glare sent his way. Johnny shrunk slightly from the heat of the look, drinking the rest of his beer as Price chuckled at the both of them.

"Sergeant huh. What're you then? Seems like you give orders often. My kinda guy." You flirted, taking his glass away and putting them with the rest.

"Lieutenant. If you like orders I'm more than willing to give some to you." The wink he sent you made you brain dead enough to stumble, him quickly to stead you with his hands reaching to catch your arms as you steadied yourself against the bar counter. You huffed and stood up straight, adjusting your outfit.

"Game on playboy." You grumbled, eyes flickering to his smug ones as the team made their way over.

"Making a girl fall Ghost? Not very nice of you." Price countered, giving his subordinate a disapproving shake of his head as Simon rolled his eyes.

"I know right. Careful Casper, might get it with one of your friends instead of you don't play nice." You glanced at Johnny and Kyle who were then turning red at your look, proving that they were just as attracted to you as he was.

"If you're looking for an.... unsatisfied night then by all means, have your way with em. Especially that one." He jabbed his finger at Johnny who was too out of it to comprehend what he'd just said about him, Kyle following the same road as they leaned on each other for support. You hummed, grabbing his face with your hand under his chin and pulling his closer to you, much to everyone's surprise as his eyes blew open.

"And you're confident you can.. 'satisfy" me Simon?" You pressed, your grip on his face tightening. He didn't respond, he couldn't, the look in your eyes pulled him in. The challenge and condescending tone, the lust. The daring nature of you was captivating, it took his breath away. It made his brain go numb in the moment, much like you expected it to.

"I guess we'll see then huh, pretty boy." With that you pushed his head to the side, and he felt his bulge pressing against his pants as he took a deep breath in, recovering from the blow to his ego and the wave of arousal traveling down to his painfully hard dick.

"Bar's closed. I'll see you tomorrow Simon. Make sure you can actually get it up, I'd hate to be disappointed." He scoffed, gaining his sense of dominance and confidence back before standing up with his bottle and revealing the height that added on to his monstrous size. Your breath hitched as he leaned over the counter, the smell of whiskey and expensive cologne invading your senses as his breath fanned over your skin from his mask.

"I wouldn't worry about me love. Might wanna call off from work after what I do to you." You couldn't help but press your legs together a bit at the clench of your pussy at his words, feeling yourself grow wet from his voice as you clasped your hands behind your back. You both glanced down at your action, the tension almost too much for you to handle, letting out a breath you were holding as he leaned back and away from you.

"I'm counting on it. I need a few days off anyway." You responded as nonchalant as you could, though you could see the smirk behind his mask at the small shake in your voice.

"I'll be back tomorrow pretty girl. Be a good girl for me and get ready."

...

Son of a bitch.

And that's it!! I wanna be a hot bartender and flirt with a hot military guy with a deep voice and British accent... anyway. Thank you for the request!! It was a joy to write it!!

@kaicubus

[skylarsblue]

✦Meeting & Flirting W/ The C.o.D Men✦

(Five scenes were gn!reader meets, flirts, and eventually gets with the C.o.D guys. You can thank Gaz & a Doja Cat song for this)

✧Gaz, Price, Soap, & Ghost. The others will come later✧ ✦Flirting, light sexual tension here and there, basically just fluff, some mild descriptions of wounds/war, no specified appearance but I do hint that you're shorter than the guys here and there in a subtle manner. Sporadic use of Y/N that I apologize for. Random callsigns I made up on the spot.✦

✧Kyle "Gaz" Garrick✧

Laswell walked beside Price whilst leading the team out onto some tarmac. "I know you all are very competent, but this is a rather big mission, and so I wanted to give you backup I think you can depend on." She said calmly, coming to a stop, turning to the four men. Ghost crossed his arms and bit back a scoff. Kyle smiled for a split second because of it, though shrouded in mystery, it was no secret that Ghost hated working with others. A black jeep rolled up from a slight distance. Gaz wasn't too interested, he'd been tired all day and meeting new people sounded like a bit of a pain. He adjusted the hat on his head and kept his gaze on the ground, even when some footsteps approached. He glanced up at least, not paying any particular attention to the five individuals in front of him. Though he did give his full attention to Laswell when she began speaking. "Team 141, this is Team Sonar. They'll be working with you this upcoming mission, which we still need to go over." The woman explained. Their captain shook hands with price, an older man with dark hair and a broad white streak in the front. Two younger men stood to the side, Soap greeted them. One was blond and the other, a light brunette, they looked like twins. The fourth one was fairly androgynous, tall, eyes cast at the ground. Gaz was just about to look back at Laswell when his eyes fell on the last member. Dressed in black military gear, holding a rifle aimed at the ground, vest decorated in patches and a filtration-gas mask over the lower half of their face. They looked up and locked with his gaze, a spark let off in the air as soon as they did. Gaz rolled back his shoulders, pinching the inside of his cheek between his teeth. He watched their eyes scan him up, down, then slowly back up. By the way their eyes scrunched slightly, he could assume they were smiling, giving him one more quick once over. It was hard not to smile as well, especially when their eyes stuck to him whilst turning to face their captains. "Careful sergeant." Ghost's deep voice made Gaz jump. "Ahem, right." He mumbled, shifting his hat down a bit. Though he did risk stealing one more glance, feeling an ego boost when he caught them doing the same.

"You ever take that hat off?" They asked, leaning on the common room's table as he sat down, arms crossed. "I do, I just don't feel like it." Gaz shrugged, adjusting the ratty baseball cap on his head. "The flag is literally fallin' off, mate." They teased with a smile, reaching to nudge the brim, making it push down. Gaz snorted and took it off for a split second to fix it. He gasped when it was snatched from his hand, smiling when he saw their face covered in a cheeky grin, holding the hat away. "Alright, c'mon. Give it back." He insisted, holding out his hand. They hummed, tapping their chin whilst looking at the ceiling. "Nnnoo, no I don't think so." They replied with their tongue stuck out. Gaz tucked his tongue into his cheek and glared at them playfully. He laughed when they jerked back as he lunged for it, smiling more when they hid it behind their back. "Oh, playing dirty now?" Gaz asked, moving to snatch it once more, only to be dodged. "I think you look better without it, actually. I'm doing you a favor." They insisted, backing up more and more. He naturally followed. They reached up to put it on, chin tilted at an endearing angle. "Should just lemme have it." Gaz shook his head, although he did enjoy the sight of them wearing it. "Over my dead body, give it!" He laughed. They blocked his arm when he went to grab it one last time, reaching into the back pocket of their camo pants. Good thing about military pants? Big pockets. Gaz blinked in surprise when he felt a pressure on his skull, raising a hand to feel a different hat. He quickly took it off and looked at it. A baseball cap with a British flag and an embroidered "K.G.G" on the brim, in a dark green color. He gazed at it with some awe, feeling a quick wave of sentimental joy enter his system. "I think green is more your color." They said, prompting him to look at. He blinked when they booped him on the nose and then turned to walk away. "Hey, what about my original hat?!" Gaz called. They turned, walking backwards. "It's mine now! No take-backsies!!" They giggled, rotating on their heel. The man ran his tongue over his teeth as he chuckled in disbelief. He glanced once more at the hat before putting it on, shaking his head fondly.

(nsfw implication in this one; cause Y/N a bold bitch) Gaz hummed to the tune of his music as he sat on one of the chairs in the common room, waiting for time to pass until their next briefing. Listening to Y/N make themselves tea, occasionally passing conversation between them both. The topic now? Why he never used his actual name. "I guess I just don't really get it. It's not like it's a bad name." They said, pouring hot water into a mug. Gaz shrugged whilst scrolling through a playlist. "I used to like it, now I don't. A lot of people don't like their name." He answered, glancing over at them. They placed a teabag into the water and turned to look at him, hip leaned on the counter. "Yeah, I guess. But usually there's a reason if you specifically dislike it, ya know?" They retorted. Gaz nodded and adjusted in his seat. "I guess...I dunno, anytime I hear that name, it usually means somethings going wrong? Either someone's needing something from me or I'm like, in trouble? So, I prefer the nickname." He explained, looking back down at his phone whilst they threw away the tea bag. "Then it's not the name, it's what you associate hearing the name with! You just need to put a different context to it." They said, though their voice was a bit muffled by his earbuds now. He snorted. "Oh yeah? Well, lemme know if you got any ideas." He said sarcastically, not hearing them walk closer. "Let's try this then." Gaz jumped a bit when the earbud was pulled from his ear, replaced with the feeling of warm breath. Hot blood rose to Gaz's cheeks and neck as the cupped their hand around his ear. "Oh Kyle...~" His breath stopped at the sound of a very convincing moan, heart stuttering as they laughed quietly, gently putting the earbud back in his ear. They made it a point to lightly drag their fingers across his shoulders when walking around him. Gaz watched them walk away with wide eyes until they were out of sight. He then sunk in his seat, hand covering the lower half of his burning face. He forced in a deep breath. "Fuckin' hell..." He mumbled while replaying the sound in his brain. They at least had a point. Hearing his name like that was pretty enjoyable.

"Gaz, Spark, how copy?" Gaz's radio crackled, Ghost's voice cutting in and out. "Copy sir, we're in a safe house. Hell of a storm outside, we'll need to wait it out." He said. Y/N was checking the pipes and looking around for firewood as Ghost gave choppy orders. The man huffed and took off his vest when he saw the fire being lit, grabbing a rickety wooden chair to pull up next to it. "Fuckin' snow." He grumbled as he heard the wind bare down on the house. "Not a winter guy?" They asked, making him look over his shoulder as they walked in with two cups. "Found coffee. I know you're more of a tea type, but warm is warm." They responded softly. He thanked them and took the cup, though he cringed at the bitter taste, swallowing so he could answer their question. "Nah, always liked Summer more." They nodded before setting their mug on the floor. "So, we're alone for god knows how many hours." They said, looking at a tactical watch on their wrist. Gaz rose an eyebrow while taking another sip of his coffee. "Yeah? What of it?" He asked. "You gonna finally make a move or should I keep pretending there's no tension here?" Their blunt words made him choke and began coughing. They laughed and lightly smacked his back, snickering when he cleared his throat. "I uh, wow, okay. Bit blunt to put it that way, innit?" He said with a breathless laugh, putting the cup down. "Bit rude to eye fuck me all the time and do nothin' about it, innit?" They mocked with a grin, making him blush, though thankfully the melanin in his skin left it unnoticeable. "Okay, I do not...alright, maybe a little, but listen." He laughed bashfully. He watched them roll their eyes with a heavy sigh, looking down at him with a smile. "What? Do I have to do everything?" He rose his hands up and sank in the seat slightly as they placed their hands on his knees, leaning in slowly. "Didn't take you for such a scaredy cat, sergeant.~" Gaz cleared his throat and couldn't stop himself from laughing nervously again. "I'm not a scaredy cat. I'm just...patient." "Patient?" "Yes, indeed." They hummed and clicked their tongue. "Well, I'm not." Gaz felt his lungs constrict and the air expel from his body once their weight rested on his lap, hands on the back of the chair, which creaked under their combined weight. He watched them take his hat off and rest it on their head. "So, sergeant major Gaz. You gonna make a move, or should I?" They asked quietly. He let out a slow exhaled before shaking his head. "You...are gonna get me in so much trouble." He said fondly, though he did invite them leaning in dangerously close. "Guess that's a risk you gotta take." They whispered back. He hummed in thought, stalling for the sake of mischievousness now. "Eh, only live once." He shrugged, grinning as they laughed, unable to stop smiling when the held his face to kiss him. Trouble or not, it was inevitable.

✧John Price✧

John sighed and messed with his dog tags as he waited of Laswell to come back into the room. She’d said she had something important to tell him. She finally poked her head into his office with a calm smile, giving him a nod. “A few weeks ago, you asked for a sniper. I found one I think is suitable.” She said, opening the door a bit further to reveal them. Stood in a compression shirt and camp pants, arms behind their back. John straightened his back as he took their figure in, acknowledging slightly nervous body language. They seemed young, but not by much compared to the rest of the team. “Alright. Lemme talk to’em.” John mumbled, motioning with his hand for the soldier to step inside. Laswell patted their shoulder as they entered, crossing the office to sit in the chair across from Price. Laswell left with the door closed. “You’re nervous, soldier.” He said. They swallowed and nodded, patting their leg. “A little sir, yes. Trying not to be.” They answered honestly with a little chuckle. “You afraid your skills aren’t up to snuff?” He questioned, voice gruff, trying to poke for insecurities. Not that he was cruel, but he needed soldiers made of steel on the field. “Oh, no. I’m 100% confident in my skills. It’s uh, just hard to not feel anxious when you’re sat in front of a captain with such an impressive resume. I’m uh, well, I’m worried about my impression is all.” They admitted bashfully, clenching their hands in their lap. John rose an eyebrow and let out an amused huff at their praise. “You’re certain you’ll keep up?” He asked. “Yes sir.” They answered immediately. John nodded, he motioned for them to stand as he did the same. They listened without hesitation. He rounded his desk and stood in front of them, watching them force back nerves in order to meet his gaze. He held out his hand. “I‘ll look forward to seeing you work, soldier.” He said. His smile grew when they shook his hand, a spark growing in their eyes. “You won’t be disappointed, sir.”

John huffed and rubbed his temple, soreness radiating through his skull as a result of persistent annoyance. He'd been put in charge of some new recruits, a batch of youngsters, all of which seemed to enjoy testing his patience. They all liked to slack off, lose focus, occasionally take a little jab at him. John was a patient man and did his best to keep his cool, usually only losing it in dire circumstances. But, he was a human, and humans had their limits, and the captain was at the end of his rope as he watched the recruits joke around. All right after he specifically told them to run laps, a standard training exercise. His frustration must've been obvious on his face, hence why Mist approached him. "You alright, captain? You look ready to blow a gasket." They asked, voice soft, showing sympathy. The brunet huffed and rested his hand on his hip, feeling a bit soothed by the gentle pat on his bicep. "These damn kids won't take me seriously, and I've bout had it." He explained, motioning to the group. The soldier's eyes widened and looked at him like he'd grown a second head. Unable to fathom it. They weren't much older than the newbies, and they'd already shown a genuine and powerful admiration for John. For various reasons. John watched them frown and shake their head. "Try again." They motioned, giving an encouraging nod. John was a bit confused but he cleared his throat and shouted to get their attention. "I said to run laps, not stand chit-chatting! Move it!" He demanded, voice rough and commanding, but not as intense was it was in the heat of battle. Y/N's blood boiled at the blatantly disrespectful laugh one recruit let out. "Whatever, old man!" A young man replied. John felt his jaw tighten and he took in a breath to yell again, on his last nerve, before a voice beside him beat him to it. "WATCH YOUR FUCKIN' MOUTH!" Mist exclaimed, voice echoing in the air like flying daggers. They'd been rather soft, quiet, and gentle the whole time they were with 141. Excluding battle. To see them so angry, so intense, it was enough to make John even jolt in surprise. "When your commanding officer gives you an order, you execute it on the first fucking demand! He said run, you sprint damnit! If you think you can dick around at the sake of the training that will save your life and the lives of your comrades, FUCK OFF BACK HOME!" They hissed, baring teeth like a raging dog. "Now, move it! Forty fucking laps at least and if I hear more disrespect at my captain, I'll have your fuckin' heads!" The recruits had already began on the track, wincing when the threat landed in their ears. John watched Mist compose themself with a look of shock interlaced with endearment. They gave him a bashful glance and cleared their throat. "Uhm...there ya go." They smiled. John let out a quiet chuckle and patted their back. "Remind me to stay on your good side." He said playfully.

(Brief description of bullet wound & war) The sounds of gunfire were sharp on the ear drums. Air permeated with the scent of rubble dust & metallic blood. Mist jumped over an enemy corpse as they dodged around a building, clicking the button on their radio in order to answer their captain. "This is Mist! Ran off about six yards east, where are you, cap?" They asked, chest heaving. "Three yards to your right! Haul ass before these cunts reload!" It was probably a terrible time to think it, but they couldn't help but worry about his throat, all those cigars surely made his voice rougher than it was naturally. That thought was pushed back by the need of survival, although their worry was barely focused on themselves, more on the safety of their captain. They found him settled behind some large stacked crates, littered with bullet holes. Taking no time to slide up beside him, huffing and puffing, face smeared with paint & dirt. "Are you steady, Cap?" They asked breathlessly. John nodded, adjusting his bucket cap. "For now. We gotta move out toward the evac, Soap's got this place set to blow and I wanna be out before it happens." He explained whilst loading a rifle. "Understood, I'll cover you." They replied. Whilst sprinting away from the enemy, ducking when the gunfire got heavy, their barriers were thinning. John huffed and pushed through, scanning for the next thing they could duck behind. As he did, he was left open. The young soldier's eyes locked in on a sniper overhead, gun angled directly at the man beside them. The world moved slow and frightfully quick all at once as they shoved John off to the side whilst shouting for him to take cover. The bullet spun through the air and made itself home in Mist's leg. John was quick to act, able to aim his rifle up at the roof, landing a rather lucky headshot in retaliation. "Damnit, soldier, what the hell were you thinkin'?!" He exclaimed, using his arm to help them stand. They didn't respond, teeth gritted in pain as the two of them continued to move. Making it to the evac wasn't easy, but it happened. The team left like a bat out of hell, holding up with shotty attempts at first-aid until they could get to a medic. John put Y/N on priority for one since the bullet was lodged in their thigh, risking a problem with an artery or bone. Thankfully though, it was just a muscle issue. They'd need recovery time and rest, but overall, they'd be fine. Likely to only sport a scar by the end of it. They sat on a medical bed as John heard the verdict, eventually waving off the doctor so he could speak with them alone. "What the hell were you thinking?" John whispered harshly. Though Mist was the more sensitive type, they didn't flinch, not a single waver as they met his gaze. "Thinking about saving your life." They answered. "And you got shot cause of it." John replied, making them snort. "I can handle a shot to the leg. Far less damage than losing you. In terms of pros & cons? I think I weighed'em pretty well." John felt his chest constrict as they gave him a satisfied smile, as if they weren't still covered in the signs of war. He opened his mouth and no words came out, he gave up and sighed, dragging a hand down his face. He stared at them for a moment. Eventually, his hand fell limp at his side, chuckling quietly. "You'll be the death of me, soldier." He said. They laughed and shrugged. "Nah, I think I'll keep you alive for awhile longer. That's my plan anyway." Their retort played like music in the strings of his neurons, sending waves of serotonin & oxytocin in his system. "I'll hold you to that." He sighed.

(NPC death mentions) The sound of paper rustlings and the scratch of a pen was monotonous and soul sucking. John had always been a diligent worker, but, he'd never enjoyed paper work. It was something he found particularly boring even as he got older, and there was always an air of somberness when he was filling out reports on men who'd died. Lost their lives under his command. In the late hours of the night where silence was suffocating and the loneliness began to grow more obvious in his bones, continuously marking his signature down on dotted lines until his wrists were sore. His throat was dry and his eyes stung. There was a bottle of whiskey on a side table calling his name, but he didn't have the energy to move, and he knew it wouldn't satisfy any actual thirst. The sigh he let out was full of exhaustion. Then, he flinched, silence broken by a knock at the door. The brunet's brows furrowed in confusion & suspicion, given lights out was at least two hours ago. "Who is it?" He called after clearing his throat. "It's me." The voice was unmistakable, and though he hated to admit it, his shoulders relaxed slightly. "Enter." He instructed, finding it worrisome how it felt easier to breathe when their figure poked through the door, entering slowly. A cup of steaming tea rested in their hands. "You should be asleep, soldier." John said, leaning back in his seat. They gave a soft laugh and a nod, walking up to his desk. "Couldn't. Kept thinkin' bout you, knowing you were overworking yourself. Finally gave in and made you a cup of tea. With all due respect, sir, you should also be in bed." They answered, setting the cup on the desk. Like a godsend, able to sense his unspoken needs from across the base. He was a providing type, protective too, he'd been called a "dad" type as well, always caring for others. Although being cared for was foreign, he couldn't help but have his heart melt in a way he hadn't really felt in a very long time. The man sighed, grabbing the cup, blowing on it before he took a sip. He could feel his soul grow warm as he realized it was a perfect replica of how he'd make it, ideal to his preferences. It was impossible not to smile. "You're a real saint, you know that?" He asked. The room felt brighter as they laughed again. "I'm not sure about that, but thank you." They replied. "I mean it. You stick out your neck to make things easier for me, even when I don't ask. I notice it, even if I'd prefer you keep a bullet out of your leg." He scolded lightly, making them nervously shift their gaze to the side, recalling the shot they'd taken for him. "Eh, I don't really regret it." They said, moving around his desk in order to sit on the same side as him, remaining on the corner of the wooden table, careful to avoid sitting on any of the papers. John shook his head. "I'd probably take another eighty bullets for you." They answered honestly, ignoring the stutter in their heartbeat as he stood, chair scraping on the rug below. "Now why would you do that?" He questioned cynically. The response he got struck every chord in his heart. "Because I care about you too much to see you get hurt." They whispered. "You're such a good person, and you do so much for everyone else, even when you're at the end of your rope. There really aren't people like that in the world, and I don't think I could really handle losing something so rare." John inhaled and stepped in front of them. He was intently in their personal space, but they didn't feel the need to lean away, even if their nerves were alight with a specific type of anxiety as he tilted their chin with his hand. He didn't say anything for a long while, only gazing, adoringly and intensely full of passion. Finally, he smiled with an amused breath. "I think I hit the nail on the head..." He heard their breath catch when he leaned close enough for his facial hair to lightly prick at their skin. "You're nothin' short of a saint, sweetheart."

✧Johnny "Soap" MacTavish✧

The bar was crowded and rowdy, dimly lit and teeming with energy. 141 settled in a booth. The bar was popular with veterans and active soldiers, so there wasn't a corner of the building that didn't have some camo print in it. Johnny chuckled at a joke Gaz made at the expense of a recently defeated enemy before taking a swing of beer. He scanned the bar lazily. At the same time as others, cerulean eyes settled on a small scene in the crowd. Kyle leaned around Soap to get a better visual. "Yeesh, can't a man take a hint?" The man mumbled as they watched a tipsy soldier flirt with, what seemed like, a civilian. Dressed up for a night of fun but clearly not having a good time with a slurring and pushy man not being able to take a no. "Think we should step in?" Soap questioned, to which Ghost rose his hand, a signal to stay seated. "Look at their friends, they look like they're waiting for somethin'. Maybe they've got it covered already." He mumbled past the fabric of his balaclava. Johnny cringed, scrunching his nose at the scene, biting his tongue, literally. "They're a civilian against a trained soldier. Drunk or not, they probably need some help." Kyle commented. It was immediately after he finished his sentence that the "civilian" set their drink down, face showing annoyance. They turned to the drunkard and in quick, trained movements, took him out. Or in less intense terms, knocked him out cold with a swift elbow to the chest and a well formed punch to the jaw. The bar went quiet after a collective "oooohhh" in response to it all. The "civilian huffed and rested their hands on their hips, shaking their head. Soap's jaw was lax as he watched them walk over to the bar, pay, and leave. Left in utter awe intermingled with disappointment that he hadn't had a chance to talk to them. Up until a week later when a higher up declared he'd be gifting a lieutenant with an impressive track record to aid the task force in a mission. A huge help, since apparently they had specialized information. The four men waited for the mystery person right outside of base. When they walked up, they had a mask on, but a collective string of shock hit the men when they came closer. Gaz let out a little laugh and nudged Soap with his elbow. "Looks like you get to talk to them after all." He teased, watching Johnny fight to keep his jaw closed. They stopped in front of him with their arms crossed and face stern. "You lot must be 141. Lieutenant Fern." They said. Price stepped up calmly to introduce the team. Johnny cut him off, practically leaping forward with his hand extended to greet them. "Sergeant Soap, pleasure to meet'cha Lieutenant." He said with a boyish grin. They tilted their head with a raised eyebrow. "You always this excitable, sergeant?" They asked. Johnny's eyes glimmered with childlike fascination and liveliness. "Only with beauties like ya'self." He said boldly. They scoffed with some amusement, shaking his hand as they glanced at an embarrassed Price. "Bold, this one." They praised.

Soap grunted and slammed his hand on the floor twice, letting out a strained word. He took a deep breath when the pressure let off his neck, hearing a few tongue clicks. "That's the third take down, Soap. You gotta stop leaving yourself open." Fern sighed, giving him a hand up. He rubbed his neck and coughed, frustrated at himself for letting his performance slip. It was showing on his face and in his shoulders, weighing down by the sense of failure. "Oi, suds, quit that." They ordered, making him look up with confusion. They made a vague motion to his person, referring to his posture, before resting their hands on their hips. "The self-doubt and anger at yourself. It ain't gonna help ya. You're not bad at what you do, you're learning still. That's normal." They explained. Though their tone sounded blunt and rough, as usual, Johnny had been around them enough now to hear the hint of softness that lingered in their words. Something he had yet to hear before. He huffed and dropped his hand at his side. "I shouldn't be havin' these fuck ups, L.T. I been doin' this for too many years for fuck ups." Johnny let out a yelp and a whine as he received a flick to the bridge of his nose. "'nough of that, sergeant. What'd I just say?" Fern demanded with their gaze sharpened. They poked his chest to keep his attention. "You listen here, and you listen good because I won't be repeating myself. You're smart, and you're good at what you do. Fuck ups happen no matter how long you've been doin' something. You ain't perfect and I ain't expecting you to be. I expect you to be observant and open minded." They stated. Johnny's face softened and so did their tone. Fern sighed and shook his head. "Don't beat yourself up over shit that's fixable or that you can't control. Doing that won't help you, it'll just make you feel like shit. Enough of that will turn you into a stick in the mud." Their hand smacked on his shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze. Soap felt his heart squeeze when they gave him a rare and small smile. "And I like you as the puppy dog you are, alright, soldier?" Johnny blinked before he snorted and nodded, taking their words to heart. "Good man. Now, c'mon. Let's go again. I'll go slower and correct your form and we'll get those slip ups worked out. On your mark." They ordered, gentler this time. Soap got into position with a grin and determination lit aflame once more. "On it, Lieutenant. Hit me." He challenged, burning with joy when they gave a fond chuckle.

Music and commotion filled the air with noise, adding a backdrop to a conversation that flooded in and out. Soap threw back some whiskey and cringed as it hit his taste buds. He coughed and set the cup down, shaking his head whilst the person across from him chuckled. "Not a whiskey type, suds?" They teased. He shook his head and slid the cup over, letting them take it and refill it. "I'll stick to my beer, thanks." Johnny replied with a huff. He pushed down the warmth in his face he got from watching them drink out of the same glass, mouth placed over where he'd just pressed his lips. Unintentional, most likely. He felt ridiculous being flustered over such a school-yard level of intimacy, and indirect kiss from sharing a glass was juvenile. He looked over their face, eyes settling on the signs of exhaustion in their expression. The Scotsman frowned and tapped the table a few times before he gave into his thoughts. "You ain't been sleeping, 'ave ya?" He asked. They looked up from following the patters of paint in the wall beside the two of them. Their silence was answer enough but the fact they shook their head sealed the deal. "Mind if I pry?" Soap asked, leaning in a bit more on his elbows. Fern shrugged and sank in their seat a bit, sighing. They rubbed their eye before regaining eye contact. "Different reasons. Old demons, mostly." They muttered. Johnny's brows dipped in sympathy. "You got a way of dealin' wit' that? Therapist?" He asked, sadness bubbling in his chest as they gave a humorless laugh and headshake. "Nah, I ain't gonna put my shit in someone else's hands. It's my problems, I should be able to deal with'em-" "Now that's a loada shit, L.T." Soap's voice cutting them off caught them by surprise. Johnny was a bold man, a loud man too, but he knew respect and knew when he needed to bite his tongue. He'd never really given an outburst at them. "Ain't you the one always tellin' me an' the team to speak up when we're in trouble?" He asked. They opened their mouth and shut it, unable to formulate a response. Their eyes softened when he reached over and rested his hand on top of their own. "Don't hesitate to ask for help. When you're out your depth, holdin' you pride too tight will get'cha killed. That's what you said." Fern blinked before a sad smile crossed their face. "Yeah...I did say that." They nodded, heart clenching as Johnny gave their hand a squeeze. "Then take your own advice, Y/N. Don't'cha owe yourself that?" He asked in a hushed tone. They bit the inside of their cheek and took his words to heart, nodding slowly with a slow exhale. "You're right. I'll keep that in mind...thank you, Johnny." They replied. He gave that sunshine filled grin in reply. "Ain't gotta thank me for that, L.T. But, you can buy me a drink if you wanna show your gratitude." He joked, feeling proud when it got them to laugh. "How's a tequila sound?" They asked. "After my 'eart, you are! I'll take three." Johnny responded with a grin.

(Implied wound) Soap grunted and leaned against a wall whilst holding his side. Pain shot through his nervous system with every movement. He huffed and thumped his head against the brick. His skin was growing clammy and moving his head too fast lead to his vision blurring, the dizziness was something that always got him the worst. He'd never been good with the sensation. It always felt him nauseous. The brunet groaned past gritted teeth as he tried to force himself to focus, will his brain to work despite the myriad of overloaded senses. His radio crackled with sound and a voice that was choppy thanks to the slightly cracked speaker. He let out a huff and rose his arm to click the button whilst trying to focus on the words, spoken by a familiar voice. "Soap? Soap, do you copy? C'mon mate, don't leave me hanging here." Fern asked with a hint of worry. The man grunted and that alone let the lieutenant take a sigh of relief. "You broken, serge?" They asked. Johnny swallowed in order to clear his throat. "Cracked, L.T. Took a hit to the side. Not sure of the damage but I ain't doin' so hot." He wheezed. Speaking brought on a coughing fit. He barely heard the order to stay put as his ears rung from the pain coughing caused. His vision was going spotty by the time he heard footsteps rapidly approaching. In his half focused state, he weakly tried to reach for his gun, only for a gloved hand to stop his arm. "It's me, Johnny." Fern's voice brought him a sense of relief. He leaned his head back to look at them, giving a weak smile. "'ey there, beautiful." He said, coughing again, which was followed by what could only be described as a whimper. Fern frowned as they checked his wound, using one hand to keep him steady. "Shit, Johnny. We need to get you to the evac right now. Can you stand?" They asked. He shook his head, slumping on their shoulder. He sighed, soothed by their body heat. "Just go on...I had a pretty good r-FUCKIN' CHRIST!" He screeched as they applied pressure to his wound. His face was grabbed sternly, forcing him to look them in the eye. Shock flooded his system as he saw saltwater building along their lower lid. "You listen here, you bloody fuckin' moron. You ain't allowed to die on me. Not until I fuckin' say so." They hissed. Soap blinked and opened his mouth to speak, letting out a noise of surprise when their lips collided with his. He let out a shaky breath whilst leaned into them, hand clutching a strap on their vest. Left tingling and energized by the action as they pulled away. "You pull all that fightin' spirit back in your fuckin' body and fight for me. Then, we get you out of here, we get you fixed up, and you owe me a fuckin' date. You got me, loverboy?" They demanded. The Scotsman heaved some breaths before he nodded. "I got'cha." He replied. Fern gave a single nod and stood up, pulling up the weakened soldier, getting under his arm to keep him steady. "Atta boy. Keep your head up, Johnny. I need you to keep your word." They said as they began helping him move. He gave a weak chuckled and a wheeze. "Roger that, L.T. Roger that."

✧Simon "Ghost" Riley✧

(Brief description of an NPC gettin' knifed in the face) The stairs creaked under Ghost's weight as he moved up behind Price. The man made a hand motion to move up more, which Ghost followed. "Stay steady, boys. Remember, not everyone in this place is a hostile." Price whispered gruffly, getting some affirmative responses. Ghost motioned for Soap to help him scan one side of the second floor, moving slowly through the rooms. Three hostiles were down in the span of two minutes. "Floor clear?" Gaz asked. "Affirmative." Soap replied, looking around. Just as Ghost was about to move out of the room, his eyes fell on a door he hadn't seen at first, with noise from behind it. "Negative. Unchecked room to the south." He motioned. The men rose their guns as Ghost moved toward it, carefully turning the door knob. He listened closely before swinging the door open quickly, locking in on a target almost instantly. They rose their hands with a yelp, an unidentified box in their hand. Ghost's finger twitched on the trigger before they spoke. "Friendly, don't shoot! Unarmed!" They declared, which made Price motion for the team to hold fire. "Name!" Ghost demanded. "Y/N L/N, call sign Blister. I'm a medic with S.A.S, and currently a hostage!" They said, voice sounding out of breath from the rush of adrenaline. Price clicked into the radio for Laswell for an identification as Ghost's eyes looked back at the box they held. Now he could see it was white with a red cross on it, as well as some faded stickers. He lowered his gun as Price confirmed they were telling the truth. Ghost motioned to the box and opened his mouth to demand they hand it over before they tensed, eyes locked on something right past him. "COVER!" They exclaimed. Shots ran past him, Gaz & Soap ducked. An enemy had snuck up behind them. About to reload before a white box flew and clocked them in the face, quickly followed by a throwing knife. As the body dropped limp, the men of 141 looked over with widened eyes as the medic let out a huff. "You said you were unarmed." Ghost replied gruffly, pushing past his feelings of shock. "One knife compared to four AK-12's is pretty much unarmed, big guy." Blister retorted. Ghost scoffed a small amused huff with a nod. "Fair point and good aim." He praised, watching them smile slightly. Price snapped his fingers to get their attention. "Need a gun?" He asked, to which Blister nodded. Ghost took his pistol out and handed it over, though he jerked it from their grasp at the last second with a warning look. "I better not regret givin' you this." He threatened, slowly holding it out again. They took it from his palm slowly, fingertips brushing against his gloves. "Relax, big guy. Only grief I plan to give is to the enemy." They said, checking the ammo clip before putting the gun in their pocket. Price motioned for them to move, stay low. Ghost was sure to trail the medic closely from behind. Unaware that it'd be soon that a higher up would decide that 141 needed a medic, and who better than one with perfect aim?

"Bit late to be up, ain't it?" The voice from behind him made him tense and nearly choke on the smoke in his mouth. Ghost looked over his shoulder as he exhaled the vaporized tabaco, pulling his mask back down once it was expelled completely. He watched Blister meander up to him, highlighted by the color of the moon. "Could ask you the same thing, medic." He replied. They snorted as they came to stand beside him. "Fair point, Lieutenant, fair point." They nodded, tilting their head to look up at the sky. The air was cold and the roof was quiet, below their feet were sleeping soldiers, unaware of the bright moon and twinkling stars. Blister tilted their head as their shoulders fell lax, something Ghost noticed. They never seemed tense and he couldn't fathom it when he couldn't ever relax, even when he was alone his muscles were tight, ready for fight-or-flight at all times. "You're staring, sir." They whispered, looking at him in their peripheral. Ghost scoffed and looked at the sky. "Was not." He denied, hearing them snicker. Silence passed between them before the medic noted Ghost's posture, just like he'd done to them. "You ever gonna let your shoulders relax? Your muscles' are gonna snap under that hypertension, sir." The blond clicked his tongue and shook his head. "These are as relaxed as they're gonna get, medic." He answered. "Because you're burning off constant anxiety?" Their response hit him a bit hard and he snapped his head to look at them. They stood with all their weight shifted to one leg, head tilted. "You don't hide it real well, ya know. All that unease. I know it ain't my place to pry, but I want you to know I can see it." Y/N said softly. Ghost let out an exhale from his nose. "And so what if you do? You're on thin ice, Blister." He warned, getting a headshake in reply. "I'm saying I see it so you know you're not invisible to me." He scoffed, crossing his arms after tossing the put out cigarette off the edge of the roof. The moonlight bounced off his irises, providing superficial light to replace the one that'd been missing since he was young. "Hard to miss me. I'm a "big guy in a Halloween mask", aren't I?" He said, using air quotes. They clicked their tongue. Ghost tensed and looked at them once more as their hand rested on his arm. "What I meant is; I see when you're struggling. And I'm here for you when it gets a bit too heavy. Whether you like it or not. I'm stick to ya, like a superglued plaster, sir." They patted his bicep and gave a kind smile. "Come see me sometime, you don't have to be injured to talk to me. My door's always open." Their words hung in the air as they walked away, and Simon couldn't help but pivot to watch them leave. When they disappeared off the roof, he cursed under his breath, feeling his chest clench and a pressure in the back of his throat. He looked up at the stars with weakness in the circles of his pupils. "...fuckin' help me ma, I'm screwed." He whispered into the night air, watching a star blink back at him.

(Ghostie gets a panic attack but it's still fluffy) Ghost let out a shaky sigh as pins and needles made themselves at home in his extremities. His veins buzzed with anxious energy and his hands had begun to shake slightly. His breathing wasn't erratic yet, but he knew it wasn't long before it would be. He bounced his leg and weighed his options before he stood up, chair squeaking along the floor at the speed of which he did. His footsteps were quick and heavier than usual as he rushed down the halls and toward med-bay. It never made sense to him, why he'd be perfectly fine and then suddenly be hit with sense of panic. Like there was a guillotine hanging over his neck that he couldn't see, but he knew the blade would drop at any second. The med-bay was empty of anyone, except for one person, organizing a new shipment of bandages. Blister heard the door click shut and the ragged breathing. They looked over their shoulder, surprised at first to see Ghost. They went to greet him before noticing all the signs of something they'd seen a million times. Twitchy, anxious, unable to breathe clearly, trembling hands. Without him saying a word, they pulled out a chair and motioned to it. "Sit." They demanded. Simon wasn't one for listening to other's orders if he didn't have to, but he did it, bouncing his leg. Y/N walked over to the water cooler and then a mini fridge, pulling out an ice pack. They walked over with it in hand, along with a tiny cup of water. Y/N placed it on his chest and motioned for him to hold it there. "Simon, look at me." They instructed in a soft voice. "I need you to try and take a deep breath. I know that's not easy, but try your best." He felt them lift his balaclava just far enough to rest over his nose, making it easier to breathe. "Can't you just shoot me up wit' somethin'?" He gasped. "I'd rather not if I can help it. Do you know what's happening right now?" They asked as he took the cup, tossing back the cold water. He shook his head. "This is a panic attack, Si. I'm gonna walk you through it, you just gotta do your best to breathe and focus on me." He didn't have much choice. They took his free hand and sat in front of him, looking him in the eye. "Follow with me. Give me five things you see." Simon swallowed and scanned. "Uh...peeling paint, cracked window, fire hydrant, ugly tile, broken light." He answered. They nodded and squeezed his hand soothingly. "Four things you feel." He took a deep breath. "Your hand, the seam of my jeans, ice pack, my itchy ass stubble." That got a little amused huff out of the medic. "Very good, you're doing great. Now, three things you can hear." Their praise was more comforting than he liked to admit. "My heartbeat, the clock on the wall...your voice." He whispered. They gave him a gentle smile and another squeeze to his hand. "Two things you smell." Simon took a deep breath through his nose and noted what came with it. "Sanitizer and somethin' fruity." He mumbled. "That'd be me. Now, last one. Take a deep breath and then tell me something you taste." They asked. Simon did as he was told, it felt easier now, less like his lungs were collapsing. "Mmph, tea. Bad tea, let the bag sit for too long." He complained. Blister chuckled and stood up, taking the ice pack from him and putting it on the table. They rested their hands on his shoulders, lightly pressing into them as they told him to take some more deep breaths. Once his breathing was steady again, he sighed and blinked slowly. "You alright?" They asked. Simon nodded, though he felt tired now. "You're...a real good medic." He muttered, feeling warm as they snorted cutely. "Thanks, big guy. I do my best."

(Reference to Ghost's poor self image & a singular mention of a wound) Ghost sat in an unmarked van with his back against one of the doors, watching Blister rummage around in hopes of finding medical supplies. His eyes drifted down to his leg, a broken pipe ran through his thigh. It hurt like hell and based on the annoyed growl the medic let out whilst throwing away another useless box, there wasn't anything they could do to help at the moment. Their radios overlapped with the sound of Price's words, informing them about the evac on the way, and how they'd ensure to send the help needed to get Ghost out of there safely. Said man shook his head as Y/N replied to their captain. "Just go. I'll slow ya down, it ain't worth it." He grumbled, wincing as he attempted to move his leg again. "Shut your fucking mouth, lieutenant." Blister hissed back. The man blinked in surprise at their response. They rarely snapped, not unless they were in the midst of battle. "Damnit, medic, don't be stubborn right now. Just fucking go, leave me here. That's an order-" "God damnit, Simon, shut your fucking mouth!" Ghost flinched at their shouting, now even more caught off guard. He watched them stand, walking a few steps to sit between his thighs. They gripped his vest roughly, eyes sharp like daggers and their nose scrunched in anger, teeth clenched tightly. They pointed a finger in his face while breathing heavily. "Now you listen and you listen good, I am not fucking leaving you hear. I am not leaving you anywhere, you understand? We are gonna get you in that fucking evac." They insisted. Ghost rolled his eyes at their declaration. "I am a liability, Blister!" They jostled him roughly. "You are fucking important to me, Simon! Your survival fucking matters to me, and until you stop breathing I am going to ensure I do everything in my power to keep you alive. And not just because it's my fucking job, but because I give a shit!" They shouted. Simon's chest felt tight again. His hands trembled so he curled them into tight fists to hide it. He felt like a kid again, weak and vulnerable. Something he despised. "Why?" He whispered past clenched teeth. He watched their gaze soften and their grip on him loosened, leaving their hand resting on his chest. "Because I care about you, but I know you don't care about yourself. But whether you like it or not, I give a shit whether you live or die. And one day, even if it takes my entire god damn life, I will get you to the day you can look in the mirror and love what you see. In and out. In order to do that, I need you alive. I need you alive to see the great man I see every day, o you're gonna get in that fucking evac, we're gonna get you patched up, and you're gonna live." Their voice shook and he watched their bottom lip shake slightly. Simon shuddered under the weight of their words. "Do you copy?" They asked. He stared at them, unable to find any hints of deception. They meant every word. Simon bit his lower lip and inhaled slowly. "...yeah, I copy."

[blingblong55]

Things said- 141

This is a little compilation of what I think each COD character has said to reader and vice versa ever since meeting her(or he perhaps them..whatever you find best). And yes she's ok, they all love her.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

One random day at the bases mess hall/chow hall

soap to ghost: Maybe she's born with it, maybe it clinical depression

R/n: im right here you know

Soap: I'm aware

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

R/n: There was a time when I was sexually attracted to price.

Soap: why did it end?

R/n: he said he saw me like a little sister

Gaz: oh..

R/n: it was either get turned off or appear on p0rnhub with a step sister title

Ghost: *spits tea onto soap*

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Soap is running away from König. He stole the jacket that r/n had given König, it smelled just like her, and he slept with it.

R/n to ghost: It wouldn't surprise me if we never saw soap again

Ghost: 40€ that we have to hear price lecture us on this

R/n: 50€ if he doesn't care as long as Gaz doesn't get injured

*they shake hands*

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

König, is overstimulated because he had to give rookies a presentation. r/n has checked in on him multiple times, she knows he is about to burst. So R/n took him to a different room, to comfort him, in the only way she know how.

R/n: you know what happens to people who keep all these emotions inside?

König, shakes his head

R/n: they get old and they get sad and they get weird

König: *picks her up and hugs her* I felt so uncomfortable...they all starred at me

R/n: I know...now let me down so I can make you you're favorite snack

He shakes his head once more. They ended up staying like this for about 20 minutes.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When r/n finally got comfortable with the team she started to open up, she even got König to speak up. She was all over base, running around, telling jokes, and just basically being herself. Until grumpy Ghost ruined her sparkle one time.

Ghost:*his hands on her shoulders, his eyes on hers* look, I'm not trying to be mean to you, but I just don't want you to be yourself.

R/n: why don't you? *her voice lowered, she was visibly upset*

Ghost had become her favorite at base because she felt the most comfortable with him. She always felt the need to be with him, like when puppies attach to one person.

Safe to say ever since he found this out he has been redeeming himself.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n: let me know if you'd like a pt.2

[keeganbrainmush]

You should totally do a tall male/gender neutral Reader x Tf 141

this theme is pretty i might keep this one for more than a day Bulletpoints ; Gender Neutral reader ; No nsfw mentioned, Minors DNI I didn't know how tall specifically you wanted it anon, so I made it 6'3 and up.

navigation.

Cpt. John Price

He was kinda surprised the first time he saw you.

Your file had mentioned you were tall, but he didn't expect that.

he honestly didn't pay attention to your file when Laswell presented it to him as a recruit for the 141. Only saw the file on your kill count and skill set and you were in.

When he recruited you, he expected someone around Gazs height. (5'11)

But Sweet mother of pearl.

Warned you about the low door frame in the base.

After you guys started dating, he likes hugging you and feeling his head on your chest and listening to your heartbeat.

Simon " Ghost " Riley

Half stunned

He was the tallest in the 141, and that was a little knock to the ego when you appeared.

Simon didn't take it personal or anything, just missed the feeling of looking down at everyone.

When he eventually fell for you, he'd try not to be annoyed if you'd rest your arm on his shoulder.

You were lucky you were his love, or else he would've been yapping extra orders at you.

John " Soap " MacTavish

little gremlin thing aint he

He's tall. But not VERY tall, per se..

would try to convince you to give him piggy back rides

Is still convinced he can bench press you.

If/When you guys started dating, He'd cling to your side like a tick.

He likes being significantly shorter than you, gives him ideas.

Kyle " Gaz " Garrick

Hes 5'11.

Slightly intimidated when you first showed up.

" oh my god we're in the same task force. "

His hands always drift towards your big hands and gets flustered at his own thoughts.

When you notice and obliviously ask him whats wrong he just brushes it off.

One time he got hard when he saw you man handling a rookie during training.

[jazmeanb]

Ghost, ‘Come here, Kitten. Sit between my knees’ 

You don’t need to be scared. Do as you’re told      ~(=^‥^)_  

[trashland-llamas]

The Missile is Eepy

Sleeping positions; Team 141 x GN! Reader

Price; while not very cuddly himself, he loves when y/n uses him as a teddy bear. wrapping their legs around his hips, arms wrapped around his torso with their head nuzzled into his neck. Price is a rather light sleeper so he usually picks up on y/n having a nightmare, jostling them awake as he sits up. 'shh, shh, it's okay. no one, not even the boogeyman can get you while I'm here.' whispering sweet nothings until they fall back asleep.

Simon; is the type to glue himself to y/n's back, following them as they shift around the bed. always needing a part of him to be touching them. he almost pushes them fully off the bed when he does this. 'Si, move over you big oaf.' not even awake, he halfway complies, giving up some of the blanket he had stolen. quickest way to console him is to flip around to where he's the little spoon, looping their fingers with his. placing a few kisses along his bare shoulder, tracing the few scars he has with their free hand.

Johnny; he tends to go to bed hours later than y/n, trying not to be too loud laughing at the sight. y/n's sprawled in the middle of the bed in a starfish position, limbs all stretched out. he doesn't even try to move them, simply crawling in between their legs, placing his head on their stomach. Laying a few raspberries along their skin from where their shirt had rode up. 'Johnny?'

'Yea, I'm here.' Accent thick with exhaustion. His eye fluttering shut as their hand reaches down to ruffle his hair.

Gaz; falls asleep on the couch more than he does in their shared bed. y/n ends up falling asleep while waiting for him at the opposite end. their legs draped over his lap while he plays at his games. when he does remember to go to bed, he'll end up carrying them. In bed, he uses y/n like a weighted blanket, very much in a 'please squash me' type of vibes. reassuring them that they're not too heavy.

[confused-wanderer]

Soap always goes too hard.

If theres not enough food, he cuts his portion size down to two bites, smiling while he claims to be stuffed and fine for the next five days. He’s the one who takes three lashings instead of one, a smile on his lips throughout.

But would he let it happen to anyone else?

No.

If there’s anyone on base who’s injured, he fusses over them and takes care of their wounds first, brushing off the fact that his wounds are still bleeding a shade too red. He’s the one who hollers at superiors if they pull too much shit on anyone else, yet for himself he allows them to take it a little farther.

Always a protector, never for himself. One day, Ghost and Price lounging in a dark office on base just cuz they can, simply enjoying each others company while they sort through the paperwork they’re supposed to get done. When suddenly there’s heavy footsteps, and voices start coming into focus.

“Soap-”

“Gaz you must be off yet heid! What’re ye babbling on about?”

And that gets their attention. Price’s eyebrows are raised, Ghost looks towards the door. The voices were heightened, angered and frustrated. This wasn’t like the two at all.

“Soap”, Gaz’s tone is exasperated and out of breath, as if he was trying to catch upto the other man, “mate if you think I’m being crazy-theory then just tell me the truth!”

“There’s nothing tae tell”, and that tone sets alarm bells off. Price and Ghost share a quick glance, both edging closer to the door. Johnnys voice was always warm. It was always open, inviting. This was cold. Harsh, like cutting down any further arguments and demanding silence.

“Really John? Mate.. why didn’t you get your wounds checked out? Again. They were sore, scarred and so many darker shades than purple then they should’ve been, and you can’t tell me they didn’t hurt! Why didn’t you say something?”

“Ah was fine Gaz it wasnae that bad-“

“YOU WERE BLEEDING. STILL. You ran around, you got everyone out the last mission and spent three days without any medical attention or food! What sane person does that?? How careless can you be-”

“Ah amn’t careless. I could take it-“

“No. No Johnny shut the fuck up. You were trying to see how much you could take. You always do this, you take pain too far, you take everything too far! If no one is allowed to be in pain then why are you?”

“KYLE. It’snae like that.”

There’s silence, Price and Ghost both waiting for the conversation to continue. The Captain’s breathing was shallow, cigar long forgotten- a sure sign he was worried. Ghost was no better either, hands clenching the papers so right they’d almost ripped while his blood boiled.

Silence settles, heavy footsteps retreating before they hear a sharp intake.

“.. do you like it?”

“Of course not Gaz! What do yah take me for?”

The image of Soap and Gaz staring each other down flashes in Ghost’s eyes, Soap looking at Gaz like he thought the other was insane, hands gesturing everywhere, Gaz looking concerned and frustrated at the Scot with his arms crossed and a frown.

There’s a silent conversation the two hold, Ghost is sure. A argument that Gaz wins apparently, the way Soap lets out a frustrated sigh. Price looks at Ghost, as if to ask if he knew what was going on. He simply shakes his head at the older man, holding his breath to hear if there was any noise outside.

There’s another set of footsteps following Soap’s, before they halt right in front of the office. There’s a soft exhale, and a shaky breath as Kyle steadies himself.

“.. oh my god...”

Ghost can almost imagine the scene: Gaz staring at Soap, eyes wide open in shock- or rather horror as he looks at the other man. He hears motion a little further down- Johnny presumably turning around at the sound.

“.. Soap… “, Gaz’s voice is so low now Ghost has to strain to hear it. He was pleading, with a note of something gut-wrenching he couldn’t identify.

“please.. please for the love of god don’t tell me you think you deserve it?”

They’d always said silence was worth a thousand words. And yet this time, it only said one. One word that was so loud, Johnny might as well have said it himself.

The look on Price’s face matched how Ghost felt in that moment of realisation, and his heart broke just a little bit more than he thought it could.

[vaguelyapeanutbutterandjelly]

Tism, but military propaganda

Task force 141 x Autistic!Gn!Reader Warnings: None really A/N: I feel like theres a good chunk of the cod fandom is people who saw the mw2 remake and heard "A new hand touches the beacon". But with a special interest y'know, anyways shout out the the autistic propaganda enjoyers, I love y'all. John Price

Once you tell Price, he had to do a lot of research. He knew autism existed and you would have sensory needs because of it, but that was about it.

He goes through his entire house to make sure you'd be comfortable in it (When he learned how certain fabrics make you feel he found any he had in his house and chucked them in the bin.)

Horrible at remembering information and lore about your special interest(s), that doesn't mean he doesn't try though.

Every time you start talking about it Price stops what he's doing if he can and listens to you and asks questions even if it's a very niche topic.

Sometimes when he has a stack of paperwork to do he'll ask you to talk to him about it because he knows it makes you happy and he loves your voice.

When he can, Price will stock up on all of your safe foods so even while he's deployed you'll have a little stash to eat. When his missions last months on end don't be surprised if you find "random" packages of your safe foods and snacks at your doorstep.

If or when you both move in together, you have free rein to make the house perfect for your needs.

Posters, figures or stuffies you want to put around the house because they make you happy? Weird little thing you picked up on a whim that looks a little questionable? Copious amounts of little trinkets?

Put them anywhere you'd like.

Tell him offhandedly one day about how much you despise the overhead lights in rooms Price is already asking your opinions on different small lamps.

Doesn't completely understand what stimming is but he's supportive. He buys you any fidget toys, chew-able things or anything of the like if you want them.

He'll be a little concerned if you vocal stim a lot but tell him it's a normal thing and he'll just say "Oh, alright"

The second you start getting overstimulated or just done with being in public, Price already has his keys out. If your not happy he's not happy, if he can you'll find yourself out of that situation and going home in record timing. Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Lets be honest, Ghost is too.

When you tell him he gives you a thumbs up and asks what some of your sensory needs are.

His special interest is anything knives, so if yours is anything related to knives you're in luck. One of the only times he'll be extremely talkative is if you ask him about them.

For the most part though, Ghost prefers to listen to you talk about what you like. He likes listening to your voice, it calms him down.

If you see some merch of something you really love, or a stuffed animal of your favorite animal he'll not-so-discreetly use his military money to good use.

Not only is Ghost extremely good at listening to you talk about your special interest(s), but he has a weirdly good memory when it comes to it as well.

He could forget what he had for breakfast but he could repeat that fun fact you told him a week ago word for word.

Not great at cooking, actually pretty bad at it, but if he can find a recipe on a dish that you love he'll make sure that it's cooked perfectly to how you like it. Just for you.

Ghost understands how hard it can be to de-mask, both literally and mentally, and he still struggles sometimes on what is him and what is his mask. So if you start trying to learn to de-mask more he'll be extremely supportive.

If you ever go non-verbal around him, Ghost would not care at all (In a good way)

Most likely already knows BSL if you want to sign with him, otherwise he doesn't mind trying to find a way to communicate.

Chances are if you start getting over stimulated or uncomfortable somewhere, he doesn't want to be there either so he'll be happy to just up and leave. If you're too nervous to excuse yourself, he'll bluntly tell whoever is there that you're both leaving and do just that.

Ghost doesn't stim a lot but he loves when you do. He sees it as you feeling safe and comfortable enough around him that you're open with your expression.

When he goes on deployment, he always leaves some little trinket he knows you'll love on the kitchen counter for you to find

Usually it's a new fidget, something related to your special interest, or something skull related

He always feels so happy when he sees or hears you stimming around him in any way, it just reminds him how he loves you. Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

The king of making sure all your needs are met

Also, amazing communication skills, he always makes sure to check in with you to see how you're doing throughout the day

If you let him, he'll host little 'slumber parties' where he'll gather a bunch of snacks, blankets and let you pick a show/movie for you both to watch.

Bonus points if it's something you've seen a million times before, he loves when you know little tid-bits about your favorite movies

Loves listening to you talk about any special interest you may have

He's a curious lad so expect him to ask a lot of questions about everything

Off topic, Gaz makes really good french toast.

Gaz is really good at memorizing the brands you like, he absolutely refuses to buy you a different brand without consulting you first.

"Angel, they're out of the normal one, should I get something else or forget it?"

Researches your special interest(s), especially if it's really niche or taboo, so he can keep up with you

If he sees anything with your special interest on it he'll buy it without a thought if you don't stop him

He finds any of your stimming adorable

If you own any chelwery/things to chew on he'd get interested and buy one for himself

Absentmindedly gnaws on it when he's doing something mundane, not a big fan of how much it makes him salivate though

If you get overstimulated when you're both out and about Gaz would find a quiet and secluded area for you both to take a break at.

If you tell him you just want to head home he won't judge you, he'd do anything to make sure you're happy and comfortable John 'Soap' Mactavish

*Cough* diagnosed ADHD *cough*

Will spend 30 minutes looking at two different brands of one of your safe food trying to remember which is the 'good' one

He ended up having to call you after he started convincing himself you didn't even like the food

Heard you joking about liking sharks once and now he buys everything shark themed he saw

100% will talk to people if you don't want to/feel uncomfortable talking

Will also punch someone if they make fun of your autistic traits within 50 miles of him

He'll trade facts about your special interests for facts about different explosives

Soap would try to teach you how to make a bomb

Soap would deny ever trying to teach you how to make a bomb

Soap would high five you if you ever "somehow" learned how to make a bomb and then blew something up with it

If you don't like overhead lights because they're icky he'll replace all of the normal lights in the house with disco bulbs

Can't fold like a wet tissue to bright lights if you're too busy boogieing

Usually hates doing dishes by hand because of, ironically, the soap

But if it comes down to it and you cringe at the mere thought of touching wet food, he'd happily wash dishes in your honor

He knows that he can be pretty loud so when he's around you he'll make a conscious effort to be a little quieter

Painfully oblivious most of the time so if you start to get overstimulated and need to leave someplace, you’ll probably have to point blank tell him

Once you do though you're both out of there

Soap does everything short of picking you up and sprinting to the exit

--------------- Hope this was good, please don't steal this and reposts are appreciated. Thanks for readin'

[band--psycho]

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader - The Funeral

This is my first story for Simon Riley!

I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

Warnings - MW3 spoilers (Don't read unless you want the game spoiled for you), violence, mentions of death, funerals, swearing

“What’s he doin’ here?” Price snarled, his eyes narrowing in Graves’ direction, as the smoke from his cigar left his lips. 

“He shouldn’t be ‘ere,” Ghost stated coldly; his eyes also fixed on Graves. 

“No he shouldn’t,” Y/n agreed, her thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of her boyfriend's gloved hand in an attempt to sooth him.

They were right; he shouldn’t be here. He had no right, not after everything that happened between Soap and Graves. 

But here he was.  

“But he is,” she continued; squeezing Ghosts hand, pulling his gaze away from Graves to her, his eyes softening almost instantly as he took in a deep breath. 

She knew that Ghost and the rest of the 141 team wanted nothing more than to beat the crap out of Graves.

She wanted that too. She’d give anything to wipe that smug smirk off of his face. 

But she knew she couldn’t, not here. 

None of them could do anything.

Even though Soap was probably cursing them from the afterlife for not doing so. 

“Just ignore him,” Gaz said; noticing the rage building in his friend's eyes.  

“He best keep his distance,” Price replied simply; before heading into the crematorium, followed by Gaz, Y/n and Ghost. 

~~~~

The service was hard, beautiful but hard. When it ended Gaz went with Price to get the car, while Y/n stood outside and waited for Ghost who was still inside saying his final goodbye to Soap.

She knew how close they were.

Even though Ghost would never admit it; Soap was his friend.  His best friend.

As she stood outside, memories of Soap flashed through her mind; reopening the wound of grief all over again, that was until an unwanted voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Y/n, I just wanted to give my condolences to you and the rest of the 141 team,” Graves said, his voice filled with as little sincerity as possible. 

He could act like he cared all he wanted; but everyone at that funeral knew it was a damn lie. Just like when he denied carrying out Shepherd’s orders. 

It was all bullshit. 

But Y/n knew she just had to remain calm and civil. 

Ghost would be outside soon; Price and Gaz would pull up in the car and then they could go and give a toast to their fallen friend. 

“I’ll be sure to pass the message on,” Y/n answered as bluntly as she could, with a small fake smile. 

Like hell she would; but she was hoping that that would be enough to get him to leave her alone. 

To her dismay, it didn’t. 

Graves just hovered around her like a vulture. 

“Why the long face sweetheart?” 

“Why would I be smiling?” Y/n snapped back, the rage clear in her voice. 

“I’m sure Soap wouldn’t want you to be sad,” 

That sentence was enough to tip Y/n over the edge she’d been teetering on since she saw him.

Graves was talking about Soap like he knew him; but he didn’t. 

He didn’t know anything. 

And that's why she punched him. 

Again and again, until Graves was on the floor.

The only reason she stopped was because a pair of familiar gloves hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her off of Graves.

“You don’t know shit about what Soap would want!” Y/n venomously spat, as Ghost placed Y/n behind him. 

“Car. Now.” Ghost ordered lowly in Y/n's ear, pointing at the car that had just pulled up outside. He wasn’t mad at her. 

If anything he was worried. He’d known Y/n for so long and he’d never seen her snap like that; she was always so calm and composed, which just made him want to punch the shit out of Graves; but he didn’t. 

He just took a deep breath and said, “shame about your fall,” before walking to the car. 

“All good?” Gaz asked, turning in his seat slightly, his eyes flicking between Y/n and Ghost with a questioning look.

“Yeah,” Ghost said, his attention solely on Y/n, who hadn’t said a single word since she’d gotten in the car. 

Gently, he reached over to her, taking her hands in his, assessing the small bloody cuts that were on her knuckles.

“Love-”

“I’m fine,” Y/n whispered, interrupting Ghosts words and refusing to meet his gaze, knowing that if she did, all the emotions she’d been keeping in, were going to spill out. 

“Nothings broken,” Ghost assured her, placing her hands back in her lap before he began stroking the back of her neck. 

It was a soothing technique he knew helped Y/n when she was stressed or upset. 

Almost instantly he noticed how her body relaxed and leaned into his touch. 

He could see in her eyes that she was trying to be strong, just like she had been for the last few weeks and he wasn’t about to question her about what happened. 

That could wait. 

He just wanted her to be okay. 

He knew little things like rubbing the back of her neck would help her, so that’s what he was going to continue to do, until she was ready to talk about it. 

“What happened?” Price questioned, his eyes fixed on the road ahead of him. 

“I punched Graves,” Y/n admitted; patiently awaiting the lecture she expected from her Captain. 

What she did wasn’t just out of character it ask was just something that she shouldn’t have done; she knew that, and as much as she hated to admit it, she didn't regret it at all.

Price's eyes glanced up at the rear view mirror, his eyes meeting Y/ns, with a small smirk on his face, “Good.”

(Let me know if you want to be tagged in any future stories involving Ghost -or any other 141 members)

[thee-horny-thicky]

Jammin'

Some weeks ago I did a headcanon of what I thought all the members of Taskforce 141 would listen to, and found myself choosing R&B as the genre of choice for them. So, I decided to turn my ending paragraph into a short one-shot :)

Note: I've never played Call of Duty and know nothing about the military. I'm merely a simp with some knowledge about the characters.

When you were first recruited by the 141, you didn’t know what to expect. The elite task force, though legendary, was shrouded in mystery. All you knew is that they always got the job done and left a trail of destruction and bloodshed in their wake. You were positive that some of their methods violated the Geneva Conventions. But, seeing as those they hurt often targeted innocent civilians, you didn’t feel much pity for those on the receiving end of the task force’s wrath.

You did, however, feel anxious when you were sent on your first mission, one the entirety of the 141 had to deal with. You knew the threat had to be massive for all five of you to go. Seeing as it dealt with bombs and crime families, you were right. Weeks of hard work later, you all were finally able to say the threat was eliminated.

Weeks of working without rest left you exhausted, but you were ecstatic that the job was finally done, and thankful that none of the team had been seriously injured. Everything had gone well, putting you in a jovial mood despite your tiredness.

The boys must’ve felt the same way, because the ride back to base was cheerier than expected. So cheery, that Soap had even begun to play music. You were out of enemy territory and in the sky, so the extra noise wasn’t that big of a deal, allowing you to focus on the choice of music. You couldn’t help but laugh as Soldier by Destiny’s Child echoed throughout the space.

Fitting.

“Nice choice,” you mused, tapping your fingers to the beat.

Destiny’s Child was a staple in your household growing up, and your love for the band remained even decades after their separation.

Soap shot you a grin, and started to belt out the lyrics, pulling another giggle from you. His Scottish accent was still prominent, and hearing the way he pronounced southern slang was more amusing than it should’ve been. You were soon sent into a fit when Gaz began to join in, though he was more subdued than the Scot.

They had too much energy considering the grueling mission you all were subjected to, but seeing them so carefree was a nice sight. To be able to kick back and listen to music with the men you were beginning to regard as your brothers brought you joy.

Soon enough, you were dancing in your seat, your tiredness fading as the beat reverberated through the plane. The team was the only passengers, so you didn’t have to worry about disturbing other guests.

While you expected Gaz and Soap to be bright and breezy—they almost always were—it was a surprise to see Captain Price bobbing his head to the beat, with as much rhythm as a middle-aged British man could muster. Even more shocking was that the notoriously stoic Ghost was tapping his foot against the floor.

You paused, the sight taking you aback enough for a disbelieving laugh to escape. You were feeling particularly giggly, your relief and tiredness making everything funnier than it really was.

Ghost froze when he noticed you staring, and you’d bet he was lifting a brow under his mask. “What?”

You just smiled and looked away. He continued to stare but didn’t press the issue further. And when No Scrubs by TLC started to play, it was forgotten completely.

The fact that those big, burly men were jamming out to R&B classics after a taxing mission amused you to no end. It was utterly absurd and seemed like something out of a sitcom. But despite the absurdity, it only made them even more endearing to you and solidified that the 141 was where you belonged.

[ghosties--writing]

Something I learned in my Spanish class is that most Mexicans just go "ch ch" to get others attention.

I now have the idea in my head of Alejandro talking to his men, who have adhd and to keep them focused he randomly says "ch ch" in the middle of a sentence. All while 141 is standing behind him trying not to die of laughter because they don't know why he's saying "ch ch" and it sounds like he's glitching.

[theangelscryinblood]

Falconry AU by hurrraaid

I hope they don’t mind me doing this but I’m grouping all the links for their brilliant GhostSoap FalconryAU so i don’t have to keep scrolling a mile for the whole thing. 

This took ages to do so I can only imagine how long the actual work took. Make sure to give this brilliant artist some love over on their blog. 

ONE (eejit in the river)

TWO 

TRHEE (jealous of an eagle)

FOUR (messy soap)

FIVE (seeing ghost)

SIX (ferret time)

SEVEN (kinky deer)

EIGHT (ROACH!)

NINE (mute roach, annoyed ghost)

TEN (tunnel vision)

ELEVEN (wrestling?)

TWELVE (dad jokes)

THIRTEEN (doodle)

FOURTEEN (just jealous)

FIFTEEN (drunk soap)

SIXTEEN (take two)

SEVENTEEN (cute roach)

EIGHTEEN (morning after)

NINETEEN (whisky tango foxtrot)

TWENTY (meltdown)

TWENTY ONE (hehe🤣 )

TWENTY TWO (thirst trap)

TWENTY THREE (price drops bombs)

TWENTY FOUR (melting soap)

TWENTY FIVE (simp ghost)

TWENTY SIX (perils of sunlight) 

TWENTY SEVEN (first aid)

TWENTY EIGHT (BSL)

TWENTY NINE (knock gaz)

THIRTY (uniform) 

THIRTY ONE (poor soap)

THIRTY TWO (hell spawn roach 😈😁)

THIRTY THREE (teacher price)

THIRTY FOUR (poor gaz haha)

THIRTY FIVE (hola Las Almas) 

THIRTY SIX (ex-wife the eagle)

THIRTY SEVEN (good old boy)

THIRTY EIGHT (glasgow kiss)

THIRTY NINE (piranha)

FOURTY (a bet)

FOURTY ONE (angry rudy 😊)

FOURTY TWO (ghost lure)

FOURTY THREE (sweet giant, tiny bug)

FOURTY FOUR (a fine plan)

FOURTY FIVE (oh ale, poor rudy)

FOURTY SIX (meirda)

FOURTY SEVEN (looming ghost)

FOURTY EIGHT (rudy is the braincells and sick of it)

FOURTY NINE (i take that last comment back)

FIFTY (he used simon, not good)

FIFTY ONE (finally we’re getting there)

FIFTY TWO (FINALLY!💏)

FIFTY THREE (-fans self-)

FIFTY FOUR (lucky boys)

FIFTY FIVE (ale won)

FIFTY SIX (the demon strikes again 😈)

FIFTY SEVEN (soap and eejit)

[blingblong55]

Phone calls- 141

everyone on base has had a terrible week, except r/n, they had an amazing week. They call in a special meeting, the team shows up and waits for r/n to arrive. Once settled they let the team in on a secret.

Soap: c'mon hurry it up

R/n: when I was I uni, I used to call the number of a missing children poster, and when they'd answer I would whisper "I miss you mummy"

Price: that is cruel

Ghost: prepaid phone?

R/n: yep

Gaz: wait...so you're telling me, that every time I watched telly and the news said that someone was doin' this it was you??!?!

R/n: yes.

[keeganbrainmush]

Sub! John Soap MacTavish Drabble ; Guided masturbation

♡I've just now realized my extreme lack of Soap fics.

♡Drabble ; Gender Neutral reader ; Extreme Smut mentioned, Minors DNI.

John sobbed out as he felt his own fingers grazing over the under the tip of his cock, you only watching with amusement. "Please, want to cum so bad." He whined, waiting for your instructions with glossy eyes and tears running down his cheeks. You smiled up at him innocently. " Stroke yourself faster, baby. " That sentence was the only thing that John needed. He started sliding his slick hand up and down, his moans becoming more breathy and high pitched the closer he got.

" Gonna- Gonna cum- " He told you, his abdomen starting to tense up. " Stop. " John cried out as he forced his hands off of himself and looked up at you with a needy expression. " No- Nonono. Need to cum. " He whined as you leaned forward to start sitting closer to him, starting to kiss at his neck while putting a hand on his hips.

" You're doing so good, baby. You're almost there. " You reassured him, biting on the sensitive part of his neck as he only whimpered out with his hips starting to fuck up into nothing. " Say what, You can do whatever I tell you to do with yourself for the next 15 minutes and I'll let you cum, yeah? That okay? " You asked, rubbing comforting circles onto his hips.

John nodded hazily, his bottom lip swollen from your previous biting and teasing. " Jerk yourself off slowly. " You ordered, John immediately complying with your words. But it wasn't slow enough for you. You placed your hand over his and slowed his pace down. " Slower, baby. You have to last 15 minutes. " You teased, John only cried out as he tried his best not to fuck up into his hand. You moved your thumb down to tease the underside of his cock as he whimpered at your touch.

" Please, (Name). I need to cum so bad, can't last for 15 minutes if you've been teasing me for half an hour. " He begged, his voice whiny and cracking, looking up at you with glossy eyes. And how could you say no to his beautiful begs? You leaned down from his face to his neck as if you were declining his offer, your ear against his throat as you started moving his hand faster under yours.

" Oh my god- Thank you so much. Shite, Too much.. " He whined, feeling your hand tighten around him. " Go ahead, you can cum now. " You told him, giving him more of an order. You nodded happily as he started rubbing the tip of his cock and finally felt his orgasm crash over him, his back arching and thighs shaking as you moved your hand off his and rested it on his thigh.