#Captain McTavish

[shyravenns]

Wanted to try drawing Captain McTavish for the first time! Gotta learn how to stay focused on those training hikes, yeah?

[henwinchesters]

╰ CAPTAIN MCTAVISH is not some pillow princess. Sure he likes to be taken care of every now and then but he prefers having you tied to the bed while he bounces on your cock like a whore in heat. Letting you lie almost useless while he takes what he needs from you. Being a Captain is stressful, so you’ll allow him this once, and it’s not like you, a sergeant, have much of a say in the matter anyway right?

He gets off to your pathetic whines, the calling of his title. He will make you beg for it, tell him exactly what you want and he may give it to you. Mctavish’s thighs work overtime, hole keeping a nice snug fit around your cock—your pelvis damn near bruising with every drop of his hips and he won’t stop until he’s full of your cum, full of you.

Even if you were to pass out from the many orgasms he’s managed to pull, you’ll wake up with your cock in his mouth—those piecing blue eyes staring you down as he manages to grin with you nestled deep down his throat. The captain will pull off and jerk your spit soaked cock, letting his tonge drag along the sensitive veins.

“c’mon mate. we’re not done yet, you can keep goin’ for me can’t you?”

© HENWINCHESTERS ™

[sirrabbithat]

09!Ghost: "sorry I'm late Price. I was doing things."

09!Price sighs "let me guess things was McTavish?"

09!Roach comes out from behind Ghost. And Captain McTavish fallows

09!Ghost: "I said things. plural."

[missiridescent]

FUCKIN HELLLL LOOK HOW MASSIVE HIS ARMS ARE

[unmotivatedartistry]

🧼 click for better quality i guess 🧼

"i'm a good artist I swear captain soap mactavish for scale😿😿😿"

anyway something possessed me a little bit while I was playing with whiteboard. should I do something in this coloring style again??

[mykneeshurt]

Field of Tulips - one

Synopsis - You’re Special Sargent Dunn, having been off on medical leave for quite some time Captain Price has someone he’d like you to meet. He wants you back in the field.

Master page - please read all content warnings on this page before proceeding.

- - - -

There it was again, that familiar sound that pulled you from your sleep. Night after night. The strangled cries of your teammates as the plane fell to the ground. The sheer terror on their faces as they knew this was it, the sweet embrace of death. Martinez clutched his family photo. Adam’s said a silent prayer. Smith let a tear fall from his umber eyes.

The pilot shot dead, the engines blown to shit, the orange glow of flames lit up the night sky.

But you? You accepted your fate. In fact your welcomed it. What did you have to live for? No family. No significant other. No friends. You sat with a disturbingly calm expression on your face. You pulled Adam’s into your chest as he sobbed.

You woke up at the same point in the dream.

Every fucking time.

Shooting upright in bed sweat adorned your skin, the bed sheets sodden with a mixture of tears and sweat. As you tried to catch your breath, a snore from next to you broke you from the dangerous hold the images in your head held you in.

Fuck.

That’s right. James. Your fuck buddy. Or was he a form of self-harm? Impulsive promiscuous sex to make you feel better Though you’re pretty sure he thought it was more. Shoving him awake he met your gaze. Confused. ‘Out’ you demanded. No warmth in your tone in the slightest. He rubbed his eyes ‘what?’

‘You fucking heard me. Out. Get your shit and go.’

‘It’s nearly 4 am?!’

‘Sounds like a you problem. Get the fuck out.’

Rolling over he muttered under his breath. Feeling rage burst within you, you clambered over the bed and pushed him. ‘What the fuck did you say?!’ You face was screwed tight with pure anger, resentment even. Grabbing your wrists he pinned you to the bed, ‘I said you’re a crazy fucking bitch. No wonder no one wants you’ he spat. He gripped you tightly as he lowered himself to your face, his voice low and harsh. ‘Maybe it would have been better if you died in that crash. No one would miss you.’

Standing up he released you, his dull foot steps marched from the bedroom to the living room. Just as soon as he’d shut your apartment door a glass smashed against it. Meant for his head. Oops. ‘Fucking prick!’ You yelled, expelling all oxygen from your tired lungs.

You could feel the tightness in your chest slowly take hold of you. Your heart rate increased by the millisecond as a thick haze descended over your body. Running to the freezer you grabbed an ice block and placed it in your hands, a feeble attempt at grounding.

But the thoughts wouldn’t stop.

He’s right … you should have died … you shouldn’t be here … everyone else had families … yet you survived … pathetic … look at you … disgusting … no wonder no one loves you … you’re a shitty person …

Over and over and over. You tried to breathe. Tried to distract yourself to little avail. The ice block stung your clammy skin, burnt your veins as desperately tried to think of a field of tulips. Your safe image. An image of a happier time when you were a child, before everything went to shit.

After what seemed like an eternity you chest opened up, releasing itself from the clutches of anxiety. Slowly you dropped the ice block into the sink, it fell with a thud onto the beaten up metal. Bent over the sink you looked up into the clear sky through your window. The moon was full, it shone through your blinds casting a shadow in the kitchen. The night always seemed more calm than the day, but it always gave room for over thinking.

Over analysing.

Analysing everyone of their faces as the plane fell. It had been a year. A year on medical leave, a year of going to psychology appointments. A year of lying through your teeth so you could get back to work. A year of living, unrelenting hell.

The blue hue from an advertisement board cast a calm but dim light against the wall of your apartment. The latest skin care you had to have. To stop you aging. The usual capitalist bullshit. It cast thick shadows into the room, fighting against the moon. The shadows danced in your living room, shimmering a long the neglected dusty surfaces.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been stood at the sink, that happened a lot. Slots of time that you couldn’t recall, ending up in places you couldn’t remember getting to. Your phone buzzed to life in the bedroom, taking in a deep breath you walked over to see it was Price. Fuck did he want at 5am.

Reluctantly picking up the phone you pressed it to your ear. ‘Hello?’

‘Hey kid, sorry it’s so early’ his voice was calm and warm, serene even. ‘No, no it’s fine. I was up anyway.’

‘Dreams again?’ He pressed, concern laced in his voice. ‘No I was up anyway.’ Liar.

‘Hmm ok, well come to base for 10am, I want you to meet someone. We want you back kid.’ A small smile tugged at your lips, finally. ‘I’ll be there sir.’

‘Good, lookin’ forward to seeing you.’

With that he hung up the phone, you knew he could read you like a book. He was the closest thing you had a to a father. You’d served under Captain Price many times, forming a close bond with him. No one had had your back like he did after the accident, he’s the only reason you weren’t honourably discharged. Taking a deep breath you meandered your way to the shower, anticipation bubbled in your stomach.

- - - -

Walking down the clinical corridors your boots squeaked with every step. Whispers and murmurs from fellow soldiers and personnel who recognised you. You kept your head down, eyes to the floor, wanting the earth to swallow you whole. While you wanted to come back, you couldn’t be bothered with the shit that came with it.

As you approached Captain Price’s door you heard loud but muffled voices. One Price, the other you didn’t recognise. A string Scottish accent met your ears, his voice was deep and gruff. The voice of someone who demanded respect, but, they’d have to earn that from you. You weren’t about to roll over saying ‘yes sir’ to anyone.

‘… you’re mad Price. She ain’t ready, not even close. I’m not having her on my team.’

You heard Price sigh, ‘Soap you’re havin her. She needs to come back. She’s a damn good sergeant. She’d be an asset to your team and you know it.’

Soap? Not someone you’d heard of before. Either way he was gonna get an earful from you, who does he think he is? He doesn’t even know you. Prick.

‘She may be good at her job sir, but she’s damaged goods.’

That was enough to make you see red, but, you’d always promised Price you’d always try and keep calm. Your mouth had gotten you into trouble on multiple occasions. Pushing the door open you entered his office. The familiar smell of cigars and cedar wood filled the air, it smelt like home. Prices eyes widened, knowing you’d heard everything, he looked tense. Clearly wondering if you were about to chew Soaps ear off.

Looking over to Soap sweetly you offered him a warm smile and held out your hand. ‘Special Sargent Dunn, sniper and demolitions. Or, I guess my preferred name, damaged goods.’ Soap took your hand firmly and shook it. He was tall, easily 6’2, bulky stature, the most captivating azure eyes you’d ever seen and a very distinctive Mohawk. He chewed his cheek as he watched you take a seat.

As he opened his mouth you raised a hand, silencing him. ‘No need to apologise sir. I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding. Easily done, wouldn’t you agree?’ Price struggled to hide a smirk as you eyed up the Captain. He was pretty sure he saw him take a small step back. Soap flashed a look to Price who merely shrugged, leaving him to fight his way out of the grave he’d dug himself.

‘Aye. Just a misunderstanding.’ He eyed you cautiously, unsure of what to make of you. Clearly headstrong and someone who wouldn’t take any shit. Something Soap felt he could work with, you’d be able to handle your own well. He just needed to make sure you didn’t lose your head. Nodding, you have him another sickly sweet smile, borderline psychopathic. ‘Good. Glad to hear it. Now, what am I helping you with sir?’

Soap looked down at the floor and took in a deep breath, his huge shoulders rising and falling. ‘Gotten wind of one of the most dangerous terrorists known to date. Putting together a team to track him down. You bein one of ‘em. Price speaks very highly of yah.’

You glanced over at Price who was sat behind his desk, watching you both intently, ready to break you up at any second.

‘Oh he does, does he?’ You say smiling at Price, you shifted in the chair, crossing your leg. ‘And what do you think of my record sir?’ Soap wasn’t overly used to being pinned like this, but he knew you had him in a vice courtesy of the comment he made. ‘Top in your class for sniping, impeccable skill and kill count. Not to mention your efficiency with demolitions. You’d fit in nicely.’

‘Hmm. Well, as long as you think so.’ You stoop up and brushed off your trousers. ‘Captain, you can count me in. It’s been a pleasure.’

As you turned to leave Soap coughed, grabbing your attention. ‘Training starts Monday. Just a refresh, you’ve been off for a while. Block B. 8am. Got it?’

You nodded ‘McTavish.’

‘Dunn.’

- - - -

If you want to be added to a tag list let me know

[dumb-djarin]

so what if I sucked his dick. his knuckles were split and bloody from defending my safety and my honour what else was I supposed to do

[swordsandholly]

Been thinking about the 141 boys coming to visit your southern family…

Price ends up out back with your papaw and uncles staring at a riding mower that they haven’t been able to get back up and working. Beer in hand, hip cocked, mimicking their ‘uh-uh’s and ‘yep’s. He tries to help with grilling but your dad won’t let him anywhere near it because “damn brits can’t cook out to save their lives. I’ve seen what y’all eat.”

Ghost gets a little overwhelmed by the women fussing over him. He’s on his third plate of food and your mimi is still loading him up with more mac n cheese because “He’s just such a big boy - he really needs to fill up! Are you sure you’re feeding him enough?” Luckily Simon is a literal human vacuum - a total garbage disposal. He drinks about a pitcher of sweet tea by himself because you can’t tell me that man doesn’t have a deadly sweet tooth. You have to drive home after the food coma they put him in.

Gaz is the decided favorite son-in-law (never mind that you aren’t married yet.) He’s just so polite, happily helping wherever needed. Quick witted and more than prepared to participate in the small town gossip. Giving genuine, dramatic gasps at the news that the preachers son of your family’s rival church took a trip (went to prison). It just makes sense that boy always had a screw loose, after all. He picks up on the cooking easily enough, asking your mom for all her recipes to make both you and her a lovely custom cook book of family recipes.

Soap goes absolutely hog wild on the four wheelers with your cousins. Regaling the younger ones with stories of his ‘adventures’ (pranks on the other 141 members.) He picks up some of your slang for the fun of it. After all, sigogglin’ just works with a Scottish accent so well. Unfortunately he can’t handle the jalapeño corn bread - it’s just too spicy for the poor boy.

[buttdumplin]

yeah simon is the one to scare people away when they get too close you, using his size and movement to intimidate, simultaneously shielding you behind him

yeah soap is the one barking loud, creating a spectacle and calling people out, and warning them away

yeah kyle is the one humiliating people, mocking offenders until either their own actions dawn on them or they finally recognize the venom in his eyes

but price is the one that launches into swinging. there is no warning, no hesitation. taking a step, even a single word against you, warrants immediate action in his mind. it's no laughing fucking matter. you are a top fucking prize, his prize, the best the world has to offer. john is rabid in his protection, bearing tooth and boot and claw and fist. there’s no point in talking to him or trying to negotiate, an offense is an offense and he won’t meet it halfway. someone looks at you the wrong way? they won't be able to see out of swollen eyes after headbutts them, crushing their nose. someone whispers something nasty about you? good luck even eating with that jaw wired shut. god forbid someone touches you, the other three boys can barely hold him back. john will break countless bones in every way he knows and beat his knuckles bloody if your smile starts to drop. 

[grabattheseballsss]

COD P★ LINKS

Yawll……dis is horny… so like fair warning

John price

Price tying you up after he catches you disobeying him by touching yourself :(

Overstimulation with John <3

Price eating you out after a loooooong mission

More price eating pussy (the guy LITERALLY looks like him or am I tripping)

Since you like using them so much, this shouldn’t be a punishment for you, correct ?

John getting you to ride his thigh

Theres a reason why they’re his favourite

Kyle Garrick

Gaz after ruthlessly fucking you for three hours ;3

What you get for flaunting yourself in front of his mates :(

Lazy night in with gaz

Shhh don’t want anyone to hear you

Late night humping with your clingy boyfriend

Roommate! Gaz getting tired of your horny whining

Simon Riley

Just a quick reminder of where you belong

Quick polishing’

A goodbye gift

A welcome home gift

Roommate! Ghost pounding you till you wake up :(

Owner! Ghost with his lil pup

Little film for later

Gettin’ crafty

John McTavish

Riding him until he’s dumb <3

Mornin sex with Johnny boy

Self restrain

Virgin! Johnny

Just his doll

Convincing your friend, Johnny to join your live 🫣

König

Hes just too big you needed a photo for confirmation

Need your colonel to reach you a lesson?

Just a quickie before he leaves for work

Quickie part 2

Good girls beg

[ave661]

141👔

[guppybibi]

Price who rethinks about his life choices when his kid asks him what year he was born just for them to say "Wow, you're old daddy! Were dinosaurs scary?"

Simon who was teaching his little girl some carpentry because it wasn't just a boy's job, right? Of course it isn't! But he does internally cringe when his kid grabs a nearby hammer due to curiosity and drops it on his foot.

Kyle who silently gulps nervously & you see sweat forming at his forehead when his kid goes up to him and asks help with their homework (Not that he's stupid or anything, he's a grown man after all, just genuinely doesn't want to get anything wrong.)

John who had to witness first hand how honest and mean children were when his own child came up to him, all smiles at first just to say– "You're hair looks a little weird, daddy." Then runs off to continue doing whatever.

(uhh im a different person at night, if this is bad, blame them not me)

[majinbangus]

Being short and taking tiny steps. It's something he never really realized because you always forced yourself to keep up with his longer strides thanks to his superior height, but now as you're going home after a lunch date, he's walking behind you, and nearly bumping into you every few steps.

"You walk so slow," he states after forcing himself to slow down for the tenth time.

"Cuz I'm short. And I don't want to walk fast if I don't have to." You look over your shoulder to look up at him. "You know, you can walk ahead of me? Home isn't going anywhere, I'll meet you there."

Absolutely not. He's not gonna let you walk home alone.

Instead, he says, "I don't want to."

You let out a confused laugh, "What do you mean 'you don't want to'? You were complaining about how slow I am."

"Wasn't complaining." He pauses. "Just observing."

"But you're still rushing to get home," you point out when he almost bumps into you again.

"The game is starting in fifteen."

You roll your eyes. Him and his soccer.

"Then either walk ahead or don't. Or carry me if you're not gonna walk at my pace. I'm don't plan on speeding up, I'm tired of practically jogging just to keep up with you."

Now there's an idea.

"Alright."

"Alright?" You look at him suspiciously. "Alright what?"

"Alright I'll carry you."

Your eyes widen. "Wait-"

He doesn't let you finish, arms coming behind your back and knees, picking you up without any complaints. You squeak out his name, arms coming around his neck. "I-"

"-won't struggle to keep up with me." He shoots you a cocky look, setting a much faster pace. "We'll be home in five."

[quillcraftconquer]

Task force 141 and their favorite positions

John Price - Spooning. This man will wake you up in the morning by pressing up against you from behind, planting soft kisses on your shoulders and neck until you stir. His hands will slowly drift downwards, massaging your ass and thighs as you’re waking up. Takes Good Morning seriously, sliding his cock between your thighs until you’re rising up to settle his length inside of you.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick - Cowgirl, but sitting up so he’s closer to your body. Likes to be able to glide his hands over your skin as you ride him. Will rest his hands on your ass and gaze up at you with so much adoration as you tilt your head back and moan.

John “Soap” MacTavish - Doggystyle. Likes to press you down into the mattress and rub his hand down the length of your spine and gently grab the back of your neck when he wants to go harder. Appreciates the nice view and the recoil when he’s slamming into you.

Simon “Ghost” Riley - Missionary, this man worships your body. Loves to be able to see all of you. Will gently caress your face and just stare into your eyes, or brings his head down to your neck to mask the sound of his grunts. Even though you told him you love when he makes noise.

[xynnoix]

//mw3 spoilers

He’s fine, what do you mean? He’s just in recovery

(And I’m still in denial)

[mykneeshurt]

Fields of Tulips - two

09 Soap x F!reader

All warnings are on the title page of this series

Chapter one

Synopsis - after a shaky first meeting with Captain McTavish, it’s time to meet your team.

A/N - Ghost and Gaz are based off 2022 MW, I prefer their characters/character models to 2009 MW2

Monday morning came round fast, your alarm buzzed at 6am and boy did it feel good to be back on base. To hear the dull drumming of boots on the linoleum floor, the laughs and banter from fellow soldiers filled the hallways.

Stretching your cramped legs you pushed your reoccurring dream to the back of your mind. There was no way it was about to impact on your first day. A new start. A new team. A new mission. It was exactly what you needed. Sheets were drenched, again, rolling your eyes you trudged towards the shower. Hoping the hot water would provide some solace from your lingering thoughts.

Make it hot … burn yourself … you’ll never be clean … they died because of you … you’re gonna fail today … worthless … pathetic

You did make the water hotter, the light sting of the liquid was enough to silence the thoughts that ravaged you. Every waking hour. Every fucking second.

Stepping out the shower you glare at your reflection in the mirror. You looked tired, a little gaunt even. A scar ran down the left side of your body …

Adam’s’ body led huddled into your chest, the fuselage of the plane dug into your torso, into your abdomen. Blood dripped from the open wound into a small puddle beneath you. It smelt strongly of iron.

You shook your head, and tried to focus on your next task. As you brushed your teeth the repetitive motion lulled you into a trance, up and down, left and right …

Your eyes were heavy, a sharp stinging pain raged within your body as you tried to move. The metal creaked and moaned above you, you tried to scream but no sound came.

Tears stung your eyes as you spat the toothpaste into the sink. ‘Fuck’ you whispered to yourself. Today cannot be a bad day. But it will be. Focusing on your breathing you counted to four, imagining a box. In for four, out for four. Trying desperately to cling onto your sanity, to cling onto normality.

- - - -

After you’d managed to get dressed you walked to the canteen, it was still pretty early so it should have been quiet. Except it wasn’t. The canteen was a bustling hive of activity, soldiers sipping coffee, scoffing eggs into their mouths ready for the day a head.

Keeping your head down you tried to keep to yourself, not to being any attention to yourself.

It lasted all of 2 minutes.

You felt something hit your back, something soft and moist. Whipping around you saw a soggy old banana skin at your feet, part of its rotten membrane coated your hoodie. Sighing you heard a chorus of sniggers and giggles coming from one of the tables.

You marched over, furious at the audacity of the person who threw it at you. As you approached you saw a group men eyeing you up and down. A lamb to the slaughter.

‘No one wants you here, Adams died cause of you.’ His voice full of venom penetrated your feeble armour. ‘Fuck you!’ You shouted, fists shaking from pure fury. The man slammed his fists on the table, the thud echoed in the canteen instantly silencing the busy conversations.

Within an instant he had you by the collar and shoved you up against the concrete wall. ‘Fuck you say to me? Fuckin murderer. Should have been you who died on that plane.’ His face contorted with sheer malice, spitting his words at you. You kept your voice low ‘I said fuck you.’

He slammed your back into the wall again causing your head to bounce off it. ‘I’ll fuckin end you, stupid bitch.’ Feeling your anger overflow you spat in his face, a smug grin spreading over your lips. The man wound his arm back ready to lay into you, fist clenched, veins protruding.

As he swung you managed to duck just in time, as you ducked you tackled him to the floor. The canteen erupted in a throng of cheers and chants, encouraging a fight to happen between the two of you. You managed to get a lucky punch in, your knuckles connected with the soft cartilage in his nose.

A grinding and popping noise rang out as blood started to stream from his nose. Just as you were about to swing again a forearm wrapped around your waist lifting you effortlessly. They placed you over their shoulder and stormed out of the canteen. Staring at the solider on the floor you flipped him off smiling at your lucky win.

As you entered the corridor you began pounding on the back of your captor. ‘Put me down! Who the fuck do you think you are?!’ You were taken into a small office, the door slammed behind you as you were thrust onto the floor.

Straightening up you were finally able to see who had taken you. Oh fuck. Of course. ‘Captain’ you said meekly, instantly withdrawing into your shell. You were fucked and you knew it.

‘You wanna tell me what the fuck that was?’ He asked standing over you, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. His face was stoic, not giving anything away but his voice was stern, he was pissed. You’ve done it now, see? Can’t do anything right. It really should have been you on that plane.

Brushing yourself off you chewed your cheek ‘he started it! He threw a mouldy banana at me!’

‘So you thought the correct thing to do was to tackle him to the floor and break his nose?’

‘Bastard deserved it. Told me I should have died in the plane.’

Soap pinched his brow and sighed heavily. ‘Alright, maybe he did deserve it, but it doesn’t give you the right to assault him. You aren’t judge jury and executioner.’

‘Oh? And what would you have done if you were me?’ You scoffed, crossing your arms. Mirroring his stance.

‘We ain’t talking about me lass.’

‘No that’s right. I’m the one who has to put up with this. I’m the one who was in that plane crash. I’m the one who sees their fucking faces every day, every time I close my eyes. Me. So excuse me if the way I stick up for myself is a little unconventional.’ Your chest was heaving. Who the fuck did he this he was?

Feeling tears start to sting behind your eyes you quickly darted around Soap. He tried to reach out for you but you pushed his hand away. ‘Don’t. I’ll see you in the gym.’ He dropped his hand and nodded, letting you leave.

Tulips. Think of the tulips.

———

After eventually calming yourself down you traipsed towards the gym, eyes still damp from your tears. Massaging your face you tried to calm yourself. The sound of punches and bare feet on mats sounded from behind the closed door.

This was it. Time to meet your new team mates.

Slipping into the gym you kept your hood up and slid onto one of the benches. Ok the mats were two men, one was a rather handsome young man. Young freshly shaven, a cheeky smile and a fantastic pair of legs. The other was a mountain of a man, broad and solid, he wore a mask with a crudely painted skull on it.

Soap and Price were talking amongst themselves as the two men beat the shit out of one another. You sat with your arms crossed, impressed at how nimble and fast they both were. Their movements were hypnotising, fluid. Each counter attack carefully calculated and executed, it was as if they were dancing with one another.

You were so lost in the performance before you that you didn’t notice Soap sit next to you. ‘You alright kid?’ He asked leaning on bis thighs. Sighing you took your hood down, biting on your thumb. ‘Yeah I guess. I’m not sorry for what I said, but I’m sorry for yelling at you.’

‘I get it. No need to apologise, but you should see someone. Just talk, see how you feel.’

‘I … I don’t know if I can.’

He remained still, mulling over your words. You felt as if he knew what you were going through, his tone was gentle. He wasn’t probing, he wasn’t being nosey, it seemed like he cared. A feeling you weren’t used to anymore. Maybe once upon a time, but not now.

‘I know. It’s tough. You can’t let it consume you though. You’ll lose yourself in it … trust me’ he half heartedly smiled at you. ‘Just think about it?’

You tried to smile back, but it came out as a grimace. ‘Yeah I guess I’ll try.’

‘Atta girl. Now, wanna come meet yah team? They been wanting to meet you.’

He led you over to the two men who were taking a break, the man with the mask regarded you closely. Eyeing you up and down as he drank the water from his scuffed bottle. ‘This is Ghost. Sniper, don’t mind the mask he’s an ugly fucker underneath.’ Ghost? Fitting. He’s got soap a glare but the corner of his eyes creased, clearly hiding a smile.

‘And this is Gaz. Chopsy, so don’t let him give you a hard time. But he’s one hell of solider.’ Gaz laughed, showing brilliant white teeth and a killer smile. ‘Nice to meet you love. Think you’re ready to settle in with us?’

You smiled up at him, he instantly put you at ease, his face was so kind. ‘Yeah, I think so.’

‘Boys this is Sargent Dunn. Sniper and demolitions expert.’

‘Demolitions eh? Gonna give cap the run for his money then?’ Gaz smiled, clearly trying to get a rise out of Soap.

‘You didn’t say you were in demolitions too sir’ you asked peering up at him.

‘Aye. Could probably teach you a thing or two.’ Fucker was getting smart.

‘Mmmm we’ll see. You don’t have the woman’s touch though. That I can guarantee.’

Gaz and Ghost both chuckled at your retort. ‘Oh and what would the woman’s touch be?’ He asked, head cocked, eyebrow raised. Holding his gaze you smiled ‘I always know where to find the on button.’ Soap smiled down at you, his normally stoic serious demeanour slipped for just a second. Gaz and Ghost let out a roar of laughter, you finally felt welcome. You felt no judgement after what happened.

It didn’t feel like home quite yet but maybe one day it could be.

———

A/N - fuckin hell this took ages to write lmfao I think the writers block is lifting. I PRAY

Taglist - @deadbranch @brewed-pangolin @luminousbeings-crudematter @abbsaura @moniheartz @tiredmetalenthusiast @cathnoneofyourbusiness @alittlefansthings @lumineyee @all-good-things-have-an-ending @mintttchi @whore4dilfs @unforgettabie