#Gaz is kinda fun to write

[porkcutletbowl44]

Angst, grief, loss of loved one, comfort

First time full on writing Gaz sorry if this sucks? (If he's wildly out of character please please please tell me)

Bound in a Phantoms Wish

❄️💕❄️

Christmas time used to be beautiful.

A warm fireplace, decorations, fresh homemade cinnamon rolls and delicious Christmas cookies (family recipe, of course), and the yearly tradition of putting up the tree at Nan's.

Kyle used to look forward to the holidays.

The delicious food, the gifts, the warmth and love from his family. Now all it does is remind him of what he no longer has. All it leaves in him is a stinging hole in his chest, a reminder every year that Nan is gone.

With a heavy exhale, Kyle watched his breath rise and dissipate in the air.

He leaned down, scooping up a handful of snow, squeezing lightly, watching the tiny frozen crystals stick together in a rough ball. He took a deep breath, watching steam escape his nose again. Breathe in, breathe out.

He was freezing. His thin, thermal black sweater could only keep him warm for so long.

"Remind me again why I agreed to this?"

Of course, he would return, year after year, visiting the grave.

It was a new tradition, after all.

Kyle's gloveless hands, now stiff and cold, chucked the ball of snow off to the side and stuffed his hand in the front jacket pocket as he treaded along.

Nancy Olivia Spencer

1930-2018

Loving wife, mother and grandmother.

Rest in eternal peace.

He recites in his mind.

The thought of his grandmother always made him feel somber. She was the closest thing to a mother figure after losing his mum at a young age. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, before opening them again. He looked over, glancing down as his gaze landed on the bouquet of tulips he brought, fresh and new.

"She would've loved these," his voice was barely above a whisper, feeling a lump burn up his esophagus.

Kyle heard footsteps, treading over the snow.

His head snapped upwards, gaze locking onto a black figure. His hand reflexively reached down under his sweater, fingers wrapping around the butt of a pistol he had concealed, hidden in an internal waist belt. His muscles tensed, eyes narrowing as he got a better look at the mysterious person crouching and shuffling through the snow.

...Right at Nan's grave.

He sucks in the cold air, overfilling his lungs with an icy bite. He watches the figure's movements with a steady dose of anger rising up, as they walked over to the headstone— arms seeming to sweep over the granite?— back facing Kyle.

He cautiously steps out into the yard, his boots immediately sinking into the snow, leaving behind a trail of imprints.

His hand remain where it is, hidden in his pocket and clutching the butt of his pistol. He watches the figure as silently as possible, feeling the numbness of his toes and fingers float off as unimportant.

He's greatly on edge. Being a member of an elite military unit will do that to you, always being paranoid and careful of your surroundings, even when he was on holiday. His heart was thudding in his chest, adrenaline rising quickly as he gripped his pistol tighter.

Whoever this was, they had the same idea to pay a visit and he had no fucking clue this person was or how they knew his Nan.

"Oi," he barks harshly, "Can I help you?"

You turn on the tips of your boots in a spooked manner, falling into the deep snow side first.

"O-Oh, hello! I'm so sorry I thought—" you bleat at the contact of cold snow, half your body getting covered in icy flakes.

Kyle's jaw slacks, a woman?

He stood in silence for a moment, before slowly making his way over, kicking small clouds of snow as he walked. He didn't expect whoever it was to be so... Cute.

Seeing your arms pop out from the snow, he lets a chuckle loose just a little to ease the tension.

"Bloody hell," he knelt down to his knees in the snow, lifting you out of the icy blanket on the earth, "Are you alright, miss?"

He helps lift you out, brushing the snow and ice off the best he could, his hands briskly sweeping over your shoulders. His gaze is still studying you, taking in your face and your features, you shiver almost violently from the cold, taking a moment to look at your features, unable to deny that you're quite beautiful. Even if you're dressed quite... Peculiarly.

He lets go of you, making sure you were balanced as he stood, tulips dangling in his grasp. Your cheeks and nose were red from the cold with your teeth chattering softly in your mouth.

"What are you doing out here?" He questioned, watching you with a wary gaze.

You huff out a dry laugh, presumably from the cold or because you are still spooked, pointing with a shaking finger to the tombstone.

"I'm so sorry, I had called a lady— uhm, a Mrs. Evelyn for permission to clean this headstone,"

Definitely skittish.

The corner of his lip twitched, his eyebrows crinkling in confusion. Your stuttering, shivering form gave him the impression that you were definitely cold, definitely scared. He had to admit, this was strange, why would you want to clean a stranger's headstone in -12°C weather?

'Auntie Eve' was the last person he expected.

"You called my aunt to clean my Nan's grave."

It came out sounding more like a statement, than a question. Kyle stares for a moment, his mind replaying your words once. Then twice.

Auntie Evelyn?

Of everything he expected, that was not it. He glanced to the grave, then back at you, taking a moment to process a simple response instead of looking around like a poorly programmed NPC. 

The thought of it alone warmed his heart, but the fact that you had called his Aunt for permission... Auntie Evelyn was a sweet, sweet lady, but also a tad too strict. He silently wonders what she had said to you?

"You called my Aunt," he repeated back to you, blinking several times, as if this were some dream—

A lady, dressed in all black and leather chains, dangling necklaces and bangles, cleaning graves on the week of Christmas?

"Ah," he finally manages to get out, clearing his throat in the process as he glances away, gaze at the headstone instead of you.

"You're here to... Clean?"

A sudden flush of embarrassment washes over his features, and the adrenaline in his system slowly starts to dissipate. Of course you were here to clean, he's just not believing it. It was just that the gesture was such a shock to him. He hadn't expected anyone to want to clean his Nan's grave, especially at this time of year.

He clears his throat, trying to regain his composure as he looks back to you. He takes a closer look now, noticing more of your attire— leather boots, multiple piercings, black pointed nails, rings, and there's a few notebooks next to you with various pendants hanging from the top of the spine.

Interesting attire.

"Yes! That is correct, I didn't know anyone was going to be here to visit... Nobody usually does come here often— I'm so sorry,"

He couldn't deny that he was rather impressed that you had the guts to call his Auntie for permission, especially considering how strict she usually is with her family and property.

Kyle's surprise slowly turned into a small smile as he watched you. Your sheepish demeanor was rather endearing, he couldn't deny that either. Though he could tell that you were genuinely sorry from your tone.

"No, no— you don't have to apologize," he shook his head, a small chuckle slipping through his lips, "You just startled me a bit, is all."

He glanced back at the grave, then back to you like you might take off, taking note of the supplies you brought with you.

"Where did you even find a shovel in this weather?"

As if you didn't even know you had a shovel, you look down and then grin.

"It's actually mine! I use it for gardening, but for the snow in the winter..." You look back, the white snow matches your makeup, it makes it really pop; blinding. "...To, uhm, clean the headstones and stuff."

You use a shovel— your shovel— for gardening, or to clean snow and headstones? That was certainly... Unique.

"You... garden?" He repeated, surprise lacing his voice, "In this weather?"

His eyes scanned your body once again, taking in your attire and jewelry, realizing he's now making a lot of snap assumptions about you.

"That's not to say you don't look the type to go out and... I don't know, till dirt?" He added quickly, hoping he hasn't offended you.

Kyle is amused, but carefully so.

"I have a greenhouse!" You informed kindly, lips parting wide with a toothy grin.

You seemed passionate about it. It was almost adorable how excited you looked telling him this with such compassion with a stranger. It made him wonder just how many more surprises you could possibly have in store. Was there anything else about you that would surprise him?

"Yeah?" He smiles genuinely now.

He holds out one of his hands, "I'm Kyle, sorry for givin' you a scare,"

You take it, your painted nails grazing his skin while giving him your name.

"It's fine, I'm sorry for just being here... God, you must think I'm some kind of weirdo,"

He feels heat rising up in his face, his cheeks flushing ever so slightly, and his heart rate picks up tempo again.

Weirdo? No, on the contrary.

His mind starts to go a bit haywire. Not a weirdo, you're bloody gorgeous.

Kyle's skin tingled at your touch, the coolness of your hand and fingers sending a shiver up his spine, and definitely not in a bad way. He shook his head as you spoke.

"No, not at all," he chuckled again, "You are the first person who's cared so much about this grave."

He paused, taking a moment to look out at the surroundings, snowflakes flurrying down every so often. A silence fell between the two of you, the only sound being the slight crunch of the snow beneath your boots as it shifted and melted. As the air between you two grew quiet, Kyle glanced back at you, studying you once again.

His gaze went from your eyes, down to your lips, taking in your smile once again. His eyes flicked to your earrings, then down to your necklaces, and then down to your hands still entwined with his. He realized that he was practically staring at you, but he couldn't help it.

You looked so... Different.

You were different. From anyone he's ever met.

"If you don't me asking," Kyle starts cautiously, "What brought you to start... Uh, cleaning graves?"

He held your hand gently as he spoke, his gaze flickering back up to meet yours, his dark brown eyes studying your face in an attempt to understand you. He was never one for beating around the bush, preferring to get straight to the point. You seem to snap back to reality, your eyes going wide in panic.

"Oh God! I'm sorry—" you glance at the forgotten tulips on his hand, your own retracting quickly. "I'll let you pay your respects to..."

"She's my Nan," he chuckles, smile dimming as the headstone unblurs, bleeding into his peripheral vision.

He followed your gaze, flitting to the tulips clutched in his hand.

"It's... It's fine, y'know," he reassured, his voice soft and gentle.

He raised the tulips, gesturing to the grave.

"I was just about to put these down," he smiled faintly.

"Those are beautiful..." You remark, recognizing his grief with a soft tone. "I'm very sorry for your loss—"

Just listening to you speak was enough to soothe him. You were so gentle about it, there was a certain... Warmth to your voice. The snowy landscape around him fell to the background, focusing solely on your voice—

".... Dining....... Sunlight!....."

Loud, cracking white noise cuts in the air in choppy, whooshing waves. His head jerks in the direction of the noise, confusion written across his features.

"What the bloody hell is that?" He breathes. 

"Sorry!" Your nails clack on plastic in a hurried attempt to silence the speaker, the sound cutting off with a loud staticy blare, "Damn walkman..." You chuckle.

He raised an eyebrow at the mention of a 'walkman.' Those things were old. But he supposed that was the least of his concerns.

"That some old vintage thing?" He asked, a smirk pulling at his lips, "Didn't realize they still made those."

"It was a gift... I have a thing for old-timey stuff," you smile prettily, tucking the device behind your back.

He exhaled loudly through his nostrils, thinking that was also odd. It was far too loud to be a walkman, and it didn't sound like singing.

"Your walkman?" He tilted his head towards the device, "What were you listening to that sounded like... That?"

"It's old, it... Messes up with the frequencies and stuff," you managed.

Kyle nodded in understanding, his confusion slowly fading away as you explained.

"Ah, I get it. Probably needs some new batteries, yeah?"

You fidget with the device, trying to get it working properly again. It was an interesting thing, how outdated it was. Old or not, he was intrigued by the fact that you carried a walkman of all things.

"Old music player, huh?" He asked, tilting his head slightly.

You shoot him a cheeky grin, "Fitting, isn't it?"

Goth.

Yeah, the black leather and chains, the jewelry, the earrings, the walkman.

Everything about you screamed Goth.

It was indeed fitting, even if the device seemed ancient compared to today's smartphones and Bluetooth headphones.

"Well, I have to say," he begins, trying to sound nonchalant, "You certainly match that look you got going on. Goth, right?"

"Guilty," you outstretch your arms, the lovely bat sleeve dress you wear fanning out.

His gaze lingered on the patterns and shades, then drifts back to your face, taking in your makeup again before meeting your eyes. A smile tugged at his lips once more as he observed you. He quickly clears his throat, taking a step back to create some distance between the two of you, trying to ignore the subtle heat in his cheeks.

"It uh," he fumbles, "It suits you." he comments, noting how the dark colors contrasted nicely with your eyes and hair.

He never had this issue before, especially not with a stranger. Sure, he's had his fair share of partners and relationships in the past, but this was different.

You were different.

Something about you—your look, your attitude—was intriguing to him.

A moment of silence passes between the two, the only sound being the faint hiss coming from the old walkman. He didn't understand what you were doing to him. His heart beat a little faster when you smiled, and he found himself becoming acutely aware of your every move— the way you held yourself, how your dress swayed with your every movement, the sound of your voice, and the way your lips moved when you spoke.

It was absurd really, how someone he had just met could affect him this much. He gives you a wry smile, gingerly laying the flowers on the headstone.

Despite his attempt at regaining his composure, Kyle's hand trembles ever so slightly as he carefully places the tulips on the headstone. He stood silently for a moment, paying his respects to his Nan, taking in a deep breath to clear his head.

His mind, however, could not be clearer and he found his thoughts were solely focused on you.

"I uh," he began after a beat, cutting through the silence between the two of you, "I'm grateful. Thank you for tidying up her headstone."

Kyle's eyes flicker over you, taking in the way you seem to preen a little from his gratitude. He couldn't help but find the sight endearing—you were almost like a kitten preening after getting a pat on the head. Yet, you felt good for doing a good deed to a stranger you've never met.

He let out a small laugh, "You like doing this kinda stuff, don't you?" He asks, his voice laced with amusement.

"Of course... There's just something peaceful about graveyards."

Peaceful was the right word for graveyards and the overall atmosphere of the place.

It was quiet, still. You couldn't hear the sounds of blaring car horns and honking cars like you could in the city. The only sounds to be heard were the occasional birdsong and the gentle shhhh of a light breeze passing by.

Yet... Who would be comfortable being surrounded by death and grief?

"Yeah, I get it," he mutters quickly, shoving his hands into his pockets, "It's quiet, y'know."

He glanced back at the headstone, his Nan's name etched into the granite.

"I always thought it was... Strange," he began, his voice quiet. "How there's just rows and rows of stones, all lined in uniform."

His gaze flickers to the many grave sites surrounding his Nan's, a small lump forming in his throat.

"Every single one of 'em is a person. Someone who lived, and someone who had loved ones. It's hard not to think of—"

He cuts himself short, his throat tightening.

"Are you okay?" You murmur delicately.

His mind drifts to his job; to Soap, Price, Ghost, all his teammates.

It was a dangerous line of work they did—the fact that every time he walked away from base, he'd could be walking to his possible demise. Of all the things that could get him killed, he never thought of dying in a graveyard before. He nods faintly, addressing you lightly.

"How come you aren't creeped out by it? The... dead folk around us?"

Your nonchalance piqued his interest. Here you were, at a graveyard, surrounded by death, and you somehow seemed completely unfazed by it. The fact that he was creeped out baffled him. He'd been in far more dangerous situations before, life-threatening ones even, but yet, a cemetery got to him.

He'd never met someone who felt comfortable in a graveyard. Sure, you got the odd group of teens here and there, trying to make some sort of video or take pictures; but most people avoided visiting them unless necessary.

Yet, here you seemed to be—standing right in the middle of a graveyard as if it were an everyday thing. As if it were normal.

"Well... Nobody is here to say anything. I don't get weird looks or questioned for who I am." You supply, and you're not in any way being rude or snarky.

You're just... So passionate about what you do. So into it.

Enigmatic.

Nobody was judging you here, nobody was there to criticize you—just you, and the dead.

He could only guess what you meant by who you are.

But the fact that nobody had anything to say here, no one would question you nor give you weird looks... That was something he could understand. After all, he too, had felt similar.

"I suppose you're right," he said slowly, a frown now forming on his lips.

He glanced around the graveyard, noting the fact that the two of you were the only ones there. It was still quiet, peaceful even as the soft breeze passed through, gently pushing away the clouds of his thoughts. But there was something about you that made him want to ask. To delve deeper into your mind.

"But—that can't be the only reason, right?" He asked quickly. 

He glanced around the graveyard, his eyes roaming over the headstones and markers surrounding them.

"You said it yourself—" he began, turning his gaze back to you. He took a small step closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, "—that it's peaceful. You prefer dead people's company over the living?"

You keep your smile, shaking your head with a patient look.

"I meant that this is relaxing... To be alone on the living side while spending time with them. How many of their families actually visit them?"

He knew all too well of friends and family who never bothered visiting those who had passed.

They just... Left them there.

Left them to rot.

He glanced back at his Nan's headstone, the sharp, hot stab of grief returning. He missed her. His gaze flickered to you, still watching him with that kind, warming sight.

"Not many," he mutters bitterly, "If any."

Many of the graves here seem to be abandoned, with weeds poking through the cracks of their stones, signs of age and deterioration noticeable on most of them. You peer around him, the pink and yellow tulips standing out against the snow.

"...No gift?" You tease lightly.

"Gift..." he repeated, the word sounded foreign on his tongue as his mind scrambled for meaning.

After a moment, his expression softened into a warm smile as he realized what you meant. In his not so excitement of eagerness to visit his Nan's grave this year, he had completely forgotten a gift. He usually didn't, just the flowers and some loving words.

"Ah, no—no gift." he admitted sheepishly, "Bit of a rookie mistake, wasn't it?"

You reach into your purse— it's an Ouija board design— pulling out a tiny plushie made out of soft yarn.

It's a bee. Nan loved the bees. She had a fascination with insects, always pointing out different types and saying their names as if they were her babies. His Nan would have loved the gift.

"A little gift, for Christmas... If you want,"

His Nan adored those creatures. She loved to watch them buzz about in the garden when summer rolled around every year. Her entire kitchen was bee themed, throw blankets on the couches were yellow— Sunflowers. Bees. Wind. Honey. The China cabinet has multiple bee tea cups with matching plates and spoons.

But... How did you know?

"I—" he began, his words cut off as the sight of the toy bee registered in his mind.

For a moment, he wished to see her smile one more time.

"Are you sure...?"

Your face drops in minor, frantic panic.

"I mean, I have others if that's not good... Let's see; sheep, bats, octopus, a spider—"

Despite the anxiety on your face, Kyle found himself unable to hold in the chuckle raddles around his throat.

"It's perfect," he reassured, holding out his hand to stop you from pulling out the entire pocket full of plush toys. "She'd—she'd love it, really." He reassured, quiet and thoughtful.

Kyle reached out his hand, gingerly taking the plushie from your grasp. He held it carefully, studying the little creature in the palm of his hand. It was small— adorable, even— with its cute smile, heart-shaped blushing cheeks and the soft, hand-crocheted yarn it was made of.

He smiles as he imagines his Nan's reaction to the toy.

She would've loved it.

He turns, clutching it close to his chest for just a moment, imagining receiving just one more of her hugs smelling of butterscotch and freshly baked bread— and putting the bee on the headstone. The plushie finds its place beside the tulips, its cheerful smile seeming to almost match the cheerful colors of the tulips.

He found comfort in knowing that he now left something that he knew his Nan would love, and for once, he didn't feel the gnawing guilt of leaving her lonely and abandoned.

"Thank you..." he began, strained and almost choked "You—uh, didn't have to. I know we barely know each other and—"

He stopped himself; realizing he was about to ramble on awkwardly. Usually, he wasn't so inept when it came to talking to people, let alone attractive women. Yet, here he stood, feeling like a teen who had just discovered girls for the first time.

He was thankful—so, so thankful for the gift and your kindness. But the fact that he now associated your sweet, caring attitude with his grandmother's didn't help the growing feelings stirring within him.

"It's nothing," you wave off, "I have tons of them. I like to make things,"

The idea of you sitting there just knitting, crocheting away was cute. He could almost imagine your determined expression, your hand creating something out of nothing, creating life from nothing but some fabric and thread.

He glances at the bee, "You made that?"

He took a good look at the plushie, noting the soft, hand crocheted yarn, the careful and precise stitches that made the little bee look so perfect.

"Damn," he continued, his tone a mix of admiration and disbelief, "It looks... Professional."

The craft was far more advanced than his own skill sets, he could only make a measly blanket or a beanie. On a good day.

Just how much time and effort had you put into making it?

How long have you been practicing crocheting?

And for some reason, how did your hands look working away at the yarn? Was it as beautiful as the rest of you?

He didn't want to question too much and sound like an ignorant pillock.

He couldn't even imagine the amount of time and patience it would take to master something like that, let alone have the talent of producing those little creations.

"Thanks! The stitch pattern is easy once you understand and memorize it,"

Your knowledge on the craft was impressive to say the least.

He couldn't muster the amount of patience it would've taken to do this kind of thing, and to put so much effort into a simple, hand-made gift. And not only that, but to do it without asking for much in return.

"It must take days to make somethin' like that, right?" He asked with curious wonder, "The yarn looks pretty small and tricky,"

"Half an hour," you corrected, your arms now hugging yourself as a gust of wind blew at your dress.

Only half an hour?

For something like that?

Impressive was an understatement.

"It's for my side business. I hope to make it a priority one day—" You rub your hands together with a soft sniffle.

You were shivering from the cold, and yet, you continued talking like nothing was happening. Didn't you know you could get ill?

You had also chosen to wear the thin dress with... Stockings.

Were you trying to freeze to death?

With how cold it was outside, and with you only in a long sleeve dress and very light clothing, you were far more cold than him. Kyle tried to reason with himself. He wasn't your parent for Christ's sake, it wasn't his business if you froze yourself.

Yet he found that the need to protect you was starting to overpower his better judgment. He wasn't sure what you were trying to do— freeze? Impress him?

But he was certain that you'd get ill if you remained outside much longer like this. He doesn't even think of his next move.

"Here—"

There's plenty of warmth in his jacket. Thankfully he's got a spare in his car. Kyle shrugged off his jacket before you could even consider protesting. He moved closer, gently draping the extra layer of heavy fabric around your shoulders. His hands lingered on the material, adjusting it so it covered you properly.

As the heavy weight settled on your frame, he took a small step back to admire you.

You... You looked damn good.

He's smug; getting you some warmth before you could even deny it for his sake.

"What were you thinking comin' out to clean a gravesite in snow without proper attire?"

"Doesn't match my style. Pain is temporary, beauty is forever," you giggled.

Kyle raised an eyebrow at your words, his lips twitching slightly in amusement.

"A fashion diva, ay?" He teased, taking a small step closer to you.

"Style over warmth? You sure you're not about to freeze somethin' off, love?"

"I'd say it's worth it," you quip back.

He takes in the way the jacket swallows your frame, how the material falls over your curves, the way his own body heat still lingered within the fabric, and you still shivering slightly from the cold. He let his gaze linger on how his jacket looked in its new form, and how it seemed to make you look so— small.

You did like looking good, didn't you?

From the dress that showed off your figure and tattoos, to the stockings that looked far too good on your legs, to his oversized jacket draped over your arms. You looked stunning, yet it was a damn shame you'd get ill because you couldn’t keep warm in the elements.

He hums, the corner of his lips twitching up slightly.

"Would you fancy a break from the cold? There's..." He clears his throat, smoothing off snow from his short hair.

There's been enough grief for today. He wouldn't want his Nan to witness him being a bumbling fool over a beautiful woman any longer.

"...—There's a café a few blocks down. Some tea? Hot chocolate?"

The café had a reputation for its decent service, a comfortable atmosphere, and most importantly; delicious hot beverages and baked goods. He wasn't ready to part with you yet, he wanted to spend more time with you. A hot cup of tea or hot chocolate was the perfect excuse.

If you accepted, that is.

He watched intently as you seemed to consider his offer, your mind swirling on whether to stay within the cold to keep working or join him in the warmth. He would have preferred the latter, especially with how you were still shivering as the wind picked up, your body starting to shake more obviously.

"Unless you're up for losin' a limb to frostbite, love?" He teased, hoping to sway you to agree.

A shared chuckle between you, and then you nod.

"Yeah, I would love to." Your eyes wander behind him, "But don't you want some extra time?"

He had already spent a reasonable amount of time. He had said his goodbyes, left his gift, and taken in the sight of her grave one last time. He never did stay long. It was too painful.

"No..." he said finally, shaking his head slightly, "I-I think I've spent enough time for today."

Stay here longer and be alone with his thoughts, wallow in more grief and guilt? Or leave and spend time with you?

The decision is obvious.

"Some company would be nice," he murmurs, turning his gaze back on you with a gentle smile.

With the decision agreed upon, Kyle took the lead, guiding you away from the grave site as the sun continued to climb up the sky. His eyes didn't wander often, keeping his gaze straight ahead, but occasionally, he would glance over at you to see if you were keeping up.

His jacket looked even better on you than he had imagined. It was baggy on you, the hem of the material falling down to your mid-thigh, which was definitely a sight for sore eyes.

"So... A knitting business?"

"Mhm, it's a little hobby I decided to pursue as a side career. It's very relaxing to knit or crochet in my greenhouse."

Kyle nodded, listening intently as you explained further. He could picture you working away on something, sitting in your little greenhouse, surrounded by rows and rows of yarn with a cup of tea or coffee in your hand, completely immersed in the project, the sunlight pouring in and warming your skin along with the warm climate of the greenhouse itself.

It sounded... Cozy.

He could imagine you completely in your realm; in your own space.

"Sounds like you're living in paradise," he remarked warmly, "Specially when it's freezin' outside. What do you grow in it? Vegetables, or..."

"Anything I get get a hold of... How about your profession?"

"Me?" He asked, his voice going surprisingly hoarse all of a sudden.

He coughs to clear his throat, running a hand through his hair as he tries to find the right words. How exactly was he supposed to explain his job to you? How could he even describe it? His job was a lot more rough and intense than yours. He was a killer. A trained killer who took people's lives.

Not something a normal girl would want to hear.

You just remain silent as he fumbles to himself, treading through snow carefully.

Luckily, the 'walkman' decides it's the perfect opportunity.

".... War! Danger!..... Home?....."

For a moment or two, Kyle floundered, lost in a mixture of surprise and frustration. He'd already forgotten about the strange relic, and was not prepared to have it go off in the middle of his moment of panic.

It almost sounds disoriented— broken. Like a radio signal that's been scrambled and garbled.

There's a warning in the tone, a sense of urgency that had his heart nearly stopping. The thing was loud, in such poor condition... The sound of the voice; the warning in the tone, the sense of urgency— were you in trouble?

It was strange... Like it answered his question for him.

"Sorry about that," you chuckled.

His eyes dart over your form. You seemed undisturbed by the garbled noise, like this was a normal occurrence for you.

"No, it's... It's alright," he mutters with caution, "Mind telling me what it is though? Where did you get it?"

"It was a gift from... An old shop, super old, I'm shocked it still works when it does,"

A gift... Super old shop... Something that managed to just, well, work?

That sounds impossible.

But here you were, holding the device in your hands, which clearly managed to produce a strange, disorientated voice.

Weird.

Kyle still seems a little off, like he's seen a ghost, but the smile on your face was reassuring enough to calm him slightly. Perhaps the device was normal. He was just overreacting.

He keeps pace next to you, clearing his throat once again. He finds himself smiling back at you, a soft hum of acknowledgment leaving his throat as he continues to follow along beside you.

Yet... He just can't fully forget that the voice was distinctly female. What a strange radio station...

He's doing it almost instinctively, moving himself closer to the road while you're by the inner sidewalk, closest to the shop windows. He gets you away from the snow and any potential slush, and keep you safe from any car accidents, or reckless drivers. He doesn't think anything of the gesture as he walks alongside you, but you have the sweetest smile and the softest eyes he's ever seen on a woman.

[stellewriites]

need to get my christmas gaz one shot started or it’ll be like late january that i end up getting around to posting it ://

but butch simon fic,,.,..,,, she calls to meeeeee

[cherie-doll]

:3c hiii, if it's not a bother, could you write more headcanon's for the cod men as parents? I think I might have died from cuteness overload while reading that one.

ahh ofc!! i've been wanting to write more so this is perfect, thank you <333

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Them As Parents #3

ʚĭɞ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

He adjusted to being a father a lot easier than he thought he would, somehow his kids are a lot easier to keep in line than the tf141

He's constantly announcing every little thing or accomplishment the kid has done, and he forces everyone to listen and they kinda have to because what else are they going to do? Say no? Wouldn't even think or dare to do that

He's just so happy to carry his chunky babies around, and loves it especially when you're feeding them, he smiles endearingly and you're like "what're you smiling for?" "I love seeing my babies growing"

Omg and imagine your babies having that same heartwarming smile he has, awwwww-

Ghost

He knew taking care of kids would be... something

But he sees how hard you work, how late you stay up trying to get the whiny baby to sleep, but he just won't stop fussing and moving and you don't want to wake Simon because he's supposed to be resting from just having come back

But he hears your tired sighs and pleading to the baby to please sleep, so he comes up behind you and gently takes the baby while telling you to go rest, that you need it

And hearing his low, smoky voice gives you such relief you almost cry because you've been sleep deprived

Soap

He taught the boys to show respect and love to you all the time, it's almost overwhelming!

Once a neighbor encountered this scene where Johnny had just gotten back from picking up the kids from school and he ran out the car yelling "Whoever gets to mom first gets to kiss and hug her!"

All three of them practically bolted inside the house and tackled you

And even if they play roughly, getting muddy and dirty they make sure to rinse off with the hose and wait before entering to dry off, they wouldn't want to ruin the effort you do to keep the house spotless, and guests who come over are always surprised at how you manage to keep the place so clean when there's two- well technically three boys with Johnny who hasn't lost his playfulness

Gaz

Can't help but imagine how Kyle would be like with his teen daughter

He loves her to death and would do anything for her, he's interested in whatever she's into and loves going along with her to go out and stuff

Especially if she's a little more on the loner side and doesn't have many friends :(, he'll throw in all his free time to make sure she gets out and has fun

And he's especially protective when someone is interested in dating her, he doesn't take kindly to them especially if he senses some underlying intentions

Closes up, clams up and his kindness and hospitality is gone, only the stone cold faced sergeant

Roach

He's never been a father before, what's he even supposed to do? The most he's taken care of is a hamster and the bug collection that's on display

Probably doesn't really hit him until you really start to show, like he's excited but constantly jumpy at any sign of pain you show, you wince? Should he get the car started? Feel a kick? The baby must be coming, right?

You've had to calm him down, tell him you appreciate his enthusiasm but that he needs to be the one to calm down, probably getting more sentimental than you are right now

Omg and the moment he saw you give birth and hold the baby he was shaking and crying, he couldn't believe he witnessed that, he's staring down at his baby girl and he's thanking you by pressing kisses to your forehead

She's definitely a daddy's girl, always sticking close to him and developing an interest for his same hobbies

Alejandro

I can see this man turning into mother the minute the child is born, like you've already given birth to his kids you've done enough now let him take over

He can cook pretty well actually and loves sneaking up out of bed to prepare the kids breakfast and surprise you by the time you wake up with breakfast in bed

Also, he has to stop his habit of swearing around the kids, most of the time it's in Spanish but your kids will still pick up on it and try using it sentences when it's certainly not appropriate

He's also telling the kids stories of when he was their age that are blown out of proportion, very common for him to exaggerate and add details just to make them gasp and believe it, thinks it's funny because they're so gullible and you're just standing there listening to his nonsense shaking your head

Rudy

He practically melted when you told him you wanted to try for a baby

He's over the moon daydreaming about it, having a mini you and him

The type to be wanting to set up for the nursery as soon as he finds out you're expecting, also he just loves doing things around the house like the malewife he is that you almost suggested he carry to term instead

He'd love a daughter and would be the one singing lullabies, cradling her little body gently in his arms as he practically twirls around the room

Just watching that angelic little face that smiles when she wakes up and sees his loving face, he's the happiest man there could ever be

Practically living life through rose-colored glasses taking care of his princesita

Phillip Graves

He was made to father children

Those great genes of him make beautiful, cute babies that get fawned over everywhere you go

Showing off his offspring like if they were his greatest life achievement

He's so proud to have you too, he's bragging how you managed to give him kids and how well you do caring for them and him <3

He loves loves buying them toys of which you constantly scold him for, they've got so many!

Also, refuses to pay for a nanny or babysitter, even for dates you to go off on he'd rather a close family friend if it's ABSOLUTELY necessary, but he's trained and educated his kids so well you two could go to a fancy dinner and they would keep still

Makarov

He's probably always thinking about having more and more kids

Like he can't ever get tired of them, once his first child was nearing teen years and his second and third were already well past their toddler stage he just wouldn't stop bringing the conversation up

Until it's past midnight and kid one will come in saying they don't feel well and ask for medicine, then kid two comes crying because they've just had a nightmare and kid three threw up and kid four made a mess and won't go to sleep-

He's constantly buying them toys when you tell him they had more fun playing with a box and bubble wrap than the expensive playset he bought them, still he doesn't mind letting his money fly when it comes to you or his kids, for that he has no limit

Just shrugs and hands the kid money when they ask for it (wouldn't that be useful?)

Keegan

He wanted one kid only and that's because according to him "kids are too much work", but he pisses you off probably more than the kid

He also gives terrible life advice, telling the kid how to get away with stuff when he thinks you're not listening but suddenly you come around the corner giving him a glare and reminding him if he keeps this up he'll be the one dealing with it because it's his fault

You're surprised your kid doesn't come back seriously injured when they're out with Keegan, not that he's reckless but he tends to show the kid to do things that they aren't exactly ready for... like those huge, sharp pliers you saw barely being held by small, tender hands, you were clutching your chest the entire time scared while Keegan told you he'd be fine, only doing some yard work

König

König as a father is such a common thought in my head, like he becomes 10x more daddy material

Just seeing him come home tired but still clean up and throw on some sweatpants to play with his toddlers who have a ton of energy

And also carry the baby who's less than a year old while sitting on the living room couch watching the others play has you going feral

Just seeing him like that makes you want to birth more babies for him, you're literally begging him to put more babies in you while he softly goes "no"

It's not that he doesn't want more but he sees how hard you work taking care of them and he doesn't want to stress you out :(

Horangi

Poor Horangi finds himself in the absolute weirdest predicaments, one of the girls lost her favorite stuffed toy, last she remembers she had been playing with it outside in the rain

Now he has to spend over an hour outside looking for it in the dark with a flashlight in hand as he searches for the damn thing because otherwise she won't go to sleep, you're inside holding her while she sobs about her plushie

After who knows how long he finds the old thing, it's covered in mud, the fur matted and not to say... foul smelling, definitely needs a good wash, so there he is inside scrubbing it and using a hair dryer because the drying machine would take too long

Until finally, he can hand it over and watch her turn in bed happily snuggling with the stuffed animal

God is it hard to be a parents but it's rewarding and so worth every moment

Nikto

This man gets drunk off the thought of having children with you despite he's always put off whenever you brought the possibility up

Still, he likes to think about it, the chubby hands reaching out for him, a soft voice calling for him, oh and how you'd look... all caring and nurturing towards the little thing

Yeah screw it he wants one or two or-

He just wants it to be his turn, his one chance at a haven

Oh and he's turned into the softest most gentlest creature that there could ever be, he'll silently observe as you feed her, just admiring this beautiful scenery like a painting

One night, Nikto insists on putting the baby to sleep, you let him while you go get ready for bed and when you come back to check on him he's singing in soft tones while placing the already sleeping baby in the crib, you lean on the doorframe careful not to make noise and just enjoy the moment

[quarterlifekitty]

Hi! could you possibly write something about a fuckboy!soap and shy!reader that he uses for sex, and she keeps letting him? im craving angsty angst ANGST that just keeps hurting…you don’t have to if you don’t want to and thank you if you do! Have a great day!

Okay, one thing you all should know about me? Is that I’m a weenie lol so I can’t help but make things a little hopeful most of the time. Also— gonna make this like a college type AU

Soap clocks you from a mile away when he sees you at a party. There’s a cup of beer in your hand that you’ve been nursing, just sipping to have something to do while you cling to the side of the friend who forced you to come.

He’s seen you in his classes before. You’re good. Not the type to be seen in a place like this. And that kinda whets his appetite. He wants to fuck you, break you, make you fall apart for his own amusement.

He nudges Gaz— they have the routine down to a science— splitting up the birdies that are a little too huddled together so they can have their way with them. Gaz runs interference this time, Johnny mouthing an “I owe ye” his way— chatting up and pulling your friend away to talk a bit more. You’re alone now, and Johnny swoops in, weaving through people on a warpath.

He corners you expertly, and you’re a pathetically easy read. Easy to tease, to coax, to push. He just has to throw in a few lines about how pretty you look, peppered between him saying he’s always wanted to talk with you, always admired you in class— he gives just enough detail to lull you into thinking this is courting. That he’s going to fuck you because he likes you.

Works like a charm. Always does. You clumsily follow him to his room—“Ye didnae ken? This is my fraternity’s house, bonnie,”— as he pulls you along by the hand.

He enjoys pulling you apart. Like the birds taking Prometheus’s liver. He’s not a complete animal, he makes you cum, but he doesn’t give you kisses the way you’d probably hoped he would. He’ll tell his mates later— it was kinda cute how fucking bad you were at giving head, too.

He lets you stay the night even though your clinging is a bit annoying. Pushing you out would burn this bridge, and he’s not ready to do that just yet. Not when he could keep having fun.

Come morning your clothes are tossed your way (sans panties, those are going in his trophy collection), and he has the decency to drop you off at your place with the promise of further contact.

Come your next class, he’s back to acting like he doesn’t know you. You’re shy, but you’re not stupid. It’s easy to see that you were played, and you curse yourself for falling into it.

So why do you show up when he texts you, asking you to come over?

Promethean indeed.

And it keeps happening.

It’s not like he treats you badly— that’s what you tell yourself. You’re just the idiot for expecting more than orgasms. It’s nice to feel wanted. It’s not nice to put your clothes on and get out right after, but you’re willing to ignore that. You shouldn’t be. But you are.

You’re not the kind of girl who gets asked out. So why refuse the one source of attention you have? He makes you cum, right? That’s more than a lot of guys do, so it would be unfair to expect more. High maintenance. Right?

If Johnny can see the hurt behind your eyes when you turn to check behind you when you leave, as if he’ll suddenly change his mind and call you back into bed to hold you, he doesn’t do anything about it. He’s content to tug on his jeans and brush past you with a cigarette in his mouth.

You steel yourself as usual, double checking the straightness of your clothes as if it’ll make you feel like less of a cheap whore when his housemates glance your way as you leave.

The door across from Johnny’s is almost always open, despite how closed off its occupant seems. You’ve never met Simon. Well, you really haven’t met anyone in Soap’s life. That’s not what he keeps you for, is it? Fucktoys don’t get introduced to the friend group. Doesn’t stop Simon from staring holes in your back every time you leave. Must think you’re easy. Must wonder if Johnny’ll mind if he has a go. Or maybe he just thinks you’re pathetic. You certainly do.

But it’s happened one too many times. Apparently, even a worm will turn. His stare itches and crawls up your skin when you already feel like such a piece of meat— chewed up and spit out. And you must be losing flavor. Before long you won’t even have this. You turn to look at him instead of walking on as usual.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” You spit in a tone that surprises you. You’ve never said anything like that to someone, not in earnest, anyway.

“Lemme take y’out somewhere.”

What?

What?

[reds-skull]

CW FLASHING IN THE VIDEO (3rd from the bottom)

This is it. 3 months in the works, the comic (and video) are finally done.

A little over a year ago, I uploaded the first work in Revenant AU, Ghost's origin comic. I never thought I'd write a whole series for this, but I'm so glad I did. I got a whole new hobby out of it, haha.

I already began working on part 2, but this for me marks the start of it. I'm really excited to get back into this world!

Under the cut there are some comments on the comic I thought some people might be interested in (don't wanna make this post longer than it already is lol). I will upload the frames from the video separately, with comments on it there.

Bottom line is, thank you for letting me just go wild with this :)

Okay, I'm mostly gonna talk about the part where Fate shows Makarov the 141+Farah. Makarov doesn't see the Fate of people as literal images, he often has to interpret odd symbolism in the flashes he gets from the Weave of Fate.

I decided to go for a style I saw in a collection of calling cards in MW3, mainly from this one:

You can really see it in the faces and pitch-black cel shading.

I'll be going in order of appearance, starting with Farah.

Obviously, each of the "flashes" shows the Reaping of each person, Farah being crushed under rubble. Behind her is a helo of green gas, which symbolizes the Russian experimental gas. The motifs around her are more interesting imo - they're taken from the Urzik flag (and yeah apparently it's "Urzik" and not "Urzikstani"... according to the wiki at least). Wings, plants (feels to me like a pomegranate and some sort of crop, but I couldn't find what it is specifically), and a moon, upside down.

I'm skipping ahead a bit, but I've had the idea to make a drawing of Gaz in the Hanged Man pose since I started the AU basically. I tried sketching it once, and it went bad so I gave up lol. But I decided to come back to that here, and add some sort of tarot connection to all of them. I know practically nothing about tarot, googled the meanings of each, they fit well enough, I called it a day lol.

So Farah is the Moon, upside down.

Price is next, showing him taking control of the brain of someone. I didn't use the flag of the UK for the 141 (it'd be kinda boring...), instead I took the Taskforce 141 logo, and broke it down to different elements.

I took the laurels for Price, both framing his illustration and sitting above his head like a crown. I decided he will be the Emperor.

Next up is Gaz, the Hanged Man of course. Gaz gets both the wings and the stars (I changed mine to 4-pointed because... I like them better). Pretty clear why, both symbols relate to the sky. The illustrations kinda follow a rough day cycle, if that makes sense. Farah being night, with the moon. Price with his golden and purple color palette, twilight. Gaz being sunrise, and Ghost and Soap, day. This is why Gaz has a sun behind him.

Ghost was fun because he's the only inhuman one out of the group. I'll let you think what that implies, that even in Fate's Weave, Ghost is an outlier... Ghost gets the skull, and the card "Death". That one was easy, but what I did add is blood flowing down the skulls, like tear tracks...

Soap, the problem child, gave me the most issues as always. For once, it wasn't his fucking face, it was the flames behind him, and overall contrast and readability issues. Soap's illustration is probably packed with the most "hidden" details, though they're obvious if you've read the fic and Konchar's side story. The headless man behind Soap is Konchar himself, holding 4 chains with dog tags on them. The 4 soldiers from Soap's squad, who he killed before Soap was Reaped. Soap's pose is from the moment he came to his senses, after getting shot in the head and destroying a large part of Verdansk. He has 4 swords, pointing at him and downwards, so his card is 4 of Swords, upside down.

Between Soap and Ghost is a circle and a triangle. I'll explain that in the post concerning the video, since that's where I got that from.

If you read all of this, thank you so much! There will be another post for you to read in a moment lol

[priceinjection]

Body Shots

I woke up in a cold sweat to write this and it went from a short little paragraph to a four part series, please enjoy

●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●

Pt.1 | Pt.2 |

CW: Drinking (duh), drunk sex, (oral male!receiving), exhibition (kinda? In a loose term), mentions of Simon sharing you with the team

The first time you suggested body shots you were in your boyfriend Simon’s apartment drinking with his team. 

Johnny and Gaz sat at the kitchen counter, chatting about something unimportant. You and Simon sat on the couch, but he was turned away from you talking to Price. You were feeling incredibly bored so you spoke, “I think body shots could be fun right now., don’t you boys?” When the words left your lips all conversation ceased and you could see all of their eyes light up, thinking they’re about to not only see you topless but they get to lick you. What nobody excepted; however, was for you to gently push Simon onto his back on the couch. When you asked, Gaz scrambled to find and hand you the supplies without a second thought. The room was silent except for the quiet radio as everyone watched you pull Simon’s shirt up, sprinkle a trail of salt onto his chest, and place a lime wedge between his lips. A strained “fuck” left Johnny’s lips when you moved to straddle Simon. You could have sworn you saw Johnny and Gaz adjust themselves in sync when you leaned down to slowly lick the salt off of Simon’s chest. You threw back the shot of tequila with ease before taking the lime from Simon’s mouth with your own. With a self satisfied smirk on your face and the attention of all four men in the room you sat back up properly. “Anyone else want a turn?” Unfortunately nobody else would get a turn that night, Simon demanding they all get lost. You stood to let him physically push everyone out of the door, laughing at the chorus of ‘boos’ and complaints that you two received. 

When the door finally shut Simon whipped around and grabbed you by the hair, using his grip to push you to your knees with one hand and undo his fly with the other. “Think you’re cheeky huh? Think it’s funny to let ‘em think they get to put their mouths on you, just to be a fuckin’ tease and make ‘em all watch you take the shot instead?” His words surprised you for a moment, he wasn’t mad that you implied his team could put their mouths on you…oh no, he was pissed because you made them think they could and then denied them. The realization sent chills down your spine, but before you could get any words in either to tease him or poke at the idea of him sharing you Simon was forcing your mouth open. “C’mon luv, open up for me. You were so eager to use your mouth earlier. Let’s see you do it again yeah?”

Simon laid his leaking tip on your tongue when you stuck it out for him. You looked up at him with those pretty doe eyes you knew made him crazy as you slowly took more of him into your mouth. The taste of his pre-cum mixing with the aftertaste of the shot you had just taken caused you to let out an involuntary moan. As if acting on some primal instinct Simon pushed your head as far down as you could go, 3/4 of the way his pushing was met with resistance “come on sweet’eart…swallow. Swa-yeah, attagirl.”” You manage to get those last few inches down your throat, your nose brushing against those pretty blonde curls at his base. Your hands reached up to brace yourself on his thighs as he started to move your head, using your mouth like his own personal toy. The gagging and slurping sounds that emitted from you were downright filthy, and your looked matched the sounds. Saliva covering your chin and dripping down onto your chest. After what felt like forever but was probably just a few minutes or so your boyfriend pulled you off of him with a satisfying ‘pop’. Your chest heaved as you attempted to catch your breath. Simon let go of your hair and moved to sit back on the couch, you didn’t dare move a muscle.  Once he was comfortable he looked you over and patted his lap. The simple non-verbal command and you stripping your bottoms and moving to straddle his lap.

You were already soaked and both of you knew it. “You this fuckin’ wet just from sucking me off dove?” His words were accompanied by the feeling of his finger sliding across your slit, gathering up some of the wetness that leaked from you. The gentle touch alone had you bucking your hips, an action that was quickly halted by Simons free hand gripping your thigh. “Wait” His voice dark and rough and had that ’don’t fuck with me’ tone that made your stomach do backflips. You watched with wide eyes as Simon brought his finger to his lips and sucked your slick off of his finger. “Fuckin’ divine you know that luv?”  Your response came in the form of a desperate whimper and another attempt to grind your aching cunt against his cock. It was right there, so close and still wet from your saliva.

Simon let out a chuckle before lifting your hips a little so he could properly position himself, lining up with your hole in a practiced manner that came from far too much couch sex. He helped you slowly lower yourself down onto him, letting you accommodate to the stretch. “Thats it. Thats a good girl, just like that,” When you were properly sat you both let out a shuddery breath. No matter how many times he fucked you his size was still a shock to your body that you had to adjust to, but once you were ready your hips became an unstoppable force. Not that Simon would want to stop the way you bounced up and down, moved back and forth, greedy walls gripping him and trying to suck him back in every time you pulled up even a little. It was absolute heaven for both of you and it was bringing you closer to your orgasm faster than you cared to admit. 

Your moans raised in pitch the closer you got to your orgasm “Simon..Si..Simons please im-“ He covered your mouth with his hand quickly. “Not yet, please…just a little longer, wanna fuck your cunt for just al little longer. You can wait cant you doll?” You whined in protest but nodded nevertheless, you couldn’t say no to him. Especially when his eyebrows scrunched together and his eyes squeezed shut as his hips rammed up into yours, the feeling making you borderline delirious. Simon didn’t tell you that you were allowed to cum yet , at least not verbally. Instead he reached a hand down between your bodies to rub at your poor sensitive and neglected clit, it was too much. The please making your head spin and hips falter. “S’okay dove, let go for me.” Thats all you needed to absolutely fall apart on top of your boyfriend, his own Orgasm following soon after.

One satisfying and much needed shower later Simon was tucking you into bed and pulling you close to him. As you drifted off to sleep you could hear him mutter about how well you did and how good you could be for his boys.

[roosterr]

white flag ✹ epilogue

note: im kinda sad to say, but this will be the final part of this series! im so so grateful for all the love and support for it, this was honestly so fun to write! i hope everyone enjoys and have a wonderful day/night!!!!<3<3<3

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

wc: 1.7k

no use of y/n

reader's callsign is 'stingray'

summary: your night in date with simon :)

warnings: domesticity, so much fluff, soap and gaz are wingmen again, tiny bit of light angst

ao3

【prev】

of all the things in this world that could be considered intimidating, flowers were the last thing simon would put on that list; but the brightly coloured flora seemed to have a paralysing effect on him as he stands in the tiny flower shop.

with a quiet, defeated groan to himself, he dials johnny's number and presses his phone to his ear.

"what flowers am i supposed to buy?" he blurts no sooner than soap picks up, not even bothering to greet him in his haste.

"hello to you too?" johnny mumbles, his confusion evident. a moment passes before he registers what simon asked, "oh! wait," he laughs, his voice getting further away as he lowers his phone to call out, "gaz, get out here! lt.'s buyin' sting flowers!"

simon considers hanging up then and there, but he's severely out of his depth and unfortunately, soap and gaz are his only hope.

"oh i see, he needs an expert opinion, does he?" kyle's teasing gets louder as he approaches soap, and he can hear the smile in both the sergeants' voices.

really, simon should've known they wouldn't let him off easy.

"christ alive…" he keeps his voice as low as possible, pinching the bridge of his nose in the corner of the small shop. "just help me, you pillock." the cashier has been staring at him since he walked in, and honestly, he doesn't blame them; a giant man in a mask isn't exactly the regular clientele for a florist.

"uh, probably their favourite?" soap suggests, the sound of gaz's muffled chuckling just about audible in the background.

"they don't have 'em." simon replies, his eyes darting over the vibrant display one last time in the hopes that the answer would somehow appear.

"nah, you want roses, mate." gaz interjects, and he hears soap make an agreeing noise.

simon hums. "aren't they too… cliché?" he asks, stepping over to the large display of rose bouquets. it's the classic choice, he's aware of that much, but whether or not you'd prefer something more unique was weighing on his mind. this was something he never expected to have to worry about.

"no! they're romantic," gaz insists, his amusement still very evident in his voice, "trust me mate, sting'll love them."

simon contemplates his point for a moment, staring at the deep red petals and trying to imagine the look on your face if he gave them to you. you'd been happy with a handful of squashed flowers he'd stolen from the flowerbeds on base, so he doubted you'd turn your nose up at them. it doesn't take him long to make a decision.

"alright, cheers." he mutters, grabbing a lively looking bouquet of a dozen from the display and making his way over to the cashier – who was quickly trying to pretend they hadn't been staring.

"you'll need to give us a debrief–" soap begins, but he's cut off by simon hanging up and shoving his phone back in his pocket. he gets the feeling he won't be hearing the end of this for quite some time.

✹✹✹

it's only when he's standing outside the door to your room that the nerves finally start to set in. he can't help but feel like an idiot, fidgeting on the spot about to knock on your door like a lovestruck teenager, almost crushing the stems of the roses with his iron grip.

he knocks twice, before he has the chance to change his mind and back out. not even a second later, you're pulling the door open and regarding him with that warm look that has his palms sweating.

you're wearing casual clothes, and so is he, as per the agreement you made to keep this 'date' simple. it doesn't matter what you're wearing though; he's seen you covered head to toe in blood, sweat, mud, and whatever else, and you still manage to be utterly breathtaking in every way.

with a nervous cough, simon holds out the rose bouquet to you, hoping you don't notice the way his hands are shaking.

"wha…" you blink in surprise at the flowers, taking them from him and admiring them with a tiny smile. "you bought these, right? didn't just rip 'em out of someone's garden?" you raise a teasing eyebrow at him, your smile turning more playful.

"yes, i bought them." he grumbles lightheartedly, a smile of his own forming under his balaclava. the way you effortlessly diffuse the tension has his anxieties melting away.

"thank you." you breathe, softly caressing the vermillion petals. "they're lovely, i love them."

simon let's out a quiet sigh of relief at your affirmation. "good; cost me a tenner, they did."

the laugh you let out is like music to his ears. "well, i'm sorry to bankrupt you." you grin, turning back into your room and carefully putting the bouquet in the vase on the mantle. after making sure the arrangement looks nice, you come to stand in front of him again.

simon's not sure how to continue, the nerves from earlier resurfacing as the conversation fades. the way you're watching him expectantly, he feels the urge to take you by the hand – and as if you read his his mind, you hold it out for him. he places his hand in yours, squeezing gently and leading you the short distance to the kitchen.

he'd set the table earlier, having found an only slightly discoloured tablecloth buried in the back of the cupboards. it's a little sad, but it was the best he could come up with.

"wow," you tease, the same playful smile as before on your lips as you meet his eyes, "so fancy."

he snorts, ushering you over to your chair and pulling out for you. "only the best for your majesty." he preens at your happiness when you laugh again, glad for the mask covering what he's sure is an obvious blush.

he occupies himself by grabbing the two plates he'd finished preparing a minute ago, just before he'd met you at your door.

"i made spag bol." simon mutters as he sets them down on the table. he keeps an eye on your expression as he takes his seat opposite you, anticipation of whatever response you may have.

"fine by me," you say, an easy smile lifting your features. "it's almost the perfect candlelit dinner, all we're missing is the candle."

simon blinks. "you don't like candles." he replies, a hint of confusion in his gaze when he meets your eye.

"no," you smile fondly, looking down at your plate. "i don't."

a comfortable silence falls over the room as you both start to eat. the warmth and normality of it all makes simon’s heart swell with affection. he's happy, content, being here with you, even doing something as monotonous as eating dinner. you make it worth enjoying.

"how is it?" he asks once you've both finished, once again waiting apprehensively for your reaction.

"it's great," you give him a lopsided smile, resting your chin on your hand as you look at him. "thanks for cooking."

simon quirks an eyebrow at you. "you don't have to lie." he mutters, feeling the tips of his ears burn under your intense gaze.

"okay, well, don't quit your day job." you chuckle, standing up and making your way over to the sink with your plate in your hands.

he huffs a small laugh, and joins you at the sink with his own plate. "you're crushin' my dreams here."

"sorry, chef." you grin and gesture to the washing up in the sink. "you wash, i'll dry?"

"if your majesty insists."

you turn on the radio for some quiet background noise, and the two of you start cleaning up in tandem. it's nice, how you can work together so seamlessly with no need for words. he's struck again by the thought that if he were alone this would be a chore, but with you beside him, he finds such a tedious job surprisingly pleasant.

simon hands the last dish to you, and as you take it your fingers brush against his hand. the way he flinches away from your touch is unconscious, and when he looks over to you he expects you to pity him, or be offended by his action – but your face holds neither of those things.

you're just drying the dish he handed you, the same content expression on your face that had been there all night, as if you didn't even notice.

"sorry." he mumbles, his gaze falling from your face to your hands as you work.

simon loves you. he shouldn't be afraid of your touch. he wants to touch you, and for you to touch him. he doesn't know why he reacted like that.

"don't be." you utter, soft and compassionate, and his heart feels like it's about to burst out of his chest. for the third time that night, he's hit full force with how wonderful you are.

there's no judgement, no probing questions, nothing. you understood him, even though you had no idea why he acts this way.

you turn away, your back to him as you store the dishes in the cabinets. you hadn't been looking at him before, but now he was sure you couldn't see him, he feels his throat constrict with the overwhelming urge to burst into tears.

simon takes your free hand and you pause, still facing away as you wait for his next move.

he takes a small step closer, minimising the space between you, and rests his forehead against the back of your head. with his eyes screwed shut, he takes a deep breath and inhales the familiar scent of you. his grip on your hand tightens slightly.

you lean back into him, a quiet sigh escaping you as you squeeze his hand in return. neither of you say a word, but you don't have to. he feels how you love him in the way you never expect more from him than he can give.

it's the most peace he's felt in years.

taglist p1: @sofasoap , @siilvan , @mockerycrow , @i-love-ghost , @projectdreamwalker , @achelois-is-here , @adamsloverboy , @thatchickwiththecamera , @chickensandwich69 , @batmanunicorns523 , @tiny-kasper , @dezibou , @pampeop , @cumbermovels , @goth-boi-atlas , @berryjuicyy , @guiltgoreglory , @postmodernrevolutionist , @untoldshortsofthefandoms , @delilah-grimes , @sunflowerqueen1416 , @luvssemma , @sunshiinegaz , @imonmykneessir , @kenz-ee , @eistro-phobia , @rzmarona , @alanalanalanalanalanna , @cathnoneofyourbusiness ,

@madsothree , @geisterfvhrer , @lazyninjaphilosopher , @aliilium , @koi-feish , @chaoticgoblindev , @clear-your-mind-and-dream , @thrivig-n-jiving , @lesterous , @glitterypirateduck , @slu77ym4nw415ts , @livelaugh-light , @trulylavendedarling , @stateofcatatonia , @rivalriotrenegade , @yoichiislovie , @nirvanaaaonly , @ameliaamareeee , @batmanunicorns523 , @sapientiia , @thesecretwriter , @susanmukami , @ryze1113 , @stars-andfreckles , @spya1 , @tunaa-luvchrm , @tzutology

[rookiesbookies]

Please I need more strength kink like you wrote for König but for the text of the COD men. Does Soap show off and lift heavier when he sees you saunter into the gym? Does Ghost try not to pay attention as you stare? I am down bad for these boys

So this is the most recent ask Ive gotten but dont fret my other requesters, yalls are taking more time bc they’re longer form pieces (I dont want to spoil but honeymoon/consummation night with Ghost (doing some research for this one), some Konig wifey bits (there’s two or three), and Ghost’s wife wearing his mask) Im so excited you all are interacting with me I just wanna say. I love you all *MUAH* big kiss.

Also I took Keegan off this one bc I don’t think I have a lot of Keegan fans reading? (ik I love him tho) so if anyone wants it just put a comment and I’ll write one and edit it so its in here.

Edit right here: I put Keegan down at the bottom. Dw Keegan girlies he’s here now.

Another edit: I put Krueger bc a reblog asked for it

Without much more here’s:

Strength Kink with the 141

Masterlist is pinned as always, also let me know if yall want any as full blown fics.

Price

Price is an “old dog” as he calls himself. He knows he’s getting softer, the wrinkles are setting in, he doesn't quite have the body he used to as a LT. Kinda got a dad bod after adopting 3 boys.

First time he sees you drool over him? He is down fucking bad. Will do anything to see his sweet lady all red in the face over him again.

Fucking saunters over to you, hits you with “you can feel if ya like, love. Go on.” just holds his arms away from his chest while he’s in his tank top.

If you take him up on this offer (and I assume yall are dating at this point) and even just grab at a peck, he is tense. His abs are tight, his butt is clenched, he is doing it all to seem like he still has his young and sharp LT body.

He knows you dont care and love his dad bod and all his soft pillowy goodness but sometimes he feels like the pillsbury dough boy.

Absolutely would pick you up and carry you bridal style at any chance.

Tells you he’s “just practicing” however he is very clearly showing off.

If you come find him at the gym to drool all over him, that max he was only supposed to do one of per set, he is not repping.

“John, are you sure- I’ve never seen you lift this much you look red-”

“I'm alright, love, just doing my reps trying to set a new pr.” Little do you know that by repping this, this is his new pr.

Gaz and Soap are sitting there mouth open because Price has never done that and not fallen over and now he just KEEPS. GOING.

And Price’s wife just keeps drooling over him as Simon spots the poor guy.

(This is what i mean btw)

Soap

The worst about it of them all.

I'm telling you right now, if you have an oral fixation on his muscles, he will mate for life like a swan. Because if you mark up his muscles he will do EVERY SINGLE WORK OUT shirtless until Ghost is like “Johnny. You look like a slut and smell like a whore with all that cologne. We’re in the bloody gym.”

He will walk around shirtless in the tightest sweatpants to show off his thighs and abs to you.

Will bench press you.

Put your weight on the hip thrust and will call you over or send videos of him doing it.

If you’re sitting somewhere he will just pick you up and move you for the hell of it under the excuse he wanted to sit there just to see you get red.

If you compliment his body once, I'M TELLING YOU ONE TIME, he will buy the TIGHTEST shirts imaginable around the house to show off his shoulders, back, pecs, biceps, and abs.

If you even mention having a bad day, your face is going between his pecs. He also absolutely can do the thing where he can flex them one at a time and he does it 24/7 for fun.

Catch him planking at the gym?

Feeling bold?Let’s shimmy under the poor bastard to look up at him.

“Do push ups.”

“Bonnie, the fuck you mean-”

“Come down, get a kiss, and go back up?”

“And if I fall? Which I won’t but I gotta ask.”

“Can’t feel any worse than when you dive onto the bed to wake me up in the mornings.”

He’s floored. Goes down, gets his kiss, comes up.

Price has watched Soap do more pushups than he ever has outside of a punishment when he was in basic training. Johnny has half the mind to let himself drop, smoother you in sweaty hugs and kisses. But he doesn’t. Not until he’s shown off. It’s embarrassing how much sweat is dripping from him though. He’ll just say you both need a shower.

Ghost

Totally doesn't flex when he hugs you.

Oh you think he does?

If you ask him, you’re wrong. Simon is the most casual of them all.

He’ll just randomly pick you up.

Like throw you over his shoulder, hold you like a koala, bridal style, you name it. Unlike Price, who is more careful about it, Simon has been doing exercises to work on his balance so he can safely carry you down a flight on stairs.

If he catches you staring, its over for him. He’s blushing under his lil mask, acting like he doesnt see you.

If you walk up and open your mouth to talk to him, he’s not listening to a word of that blabbery. He’s focused on the way you watch his legs while he’s in the leg press. How if he flexes a bit more you have the pause so you don’t choke on your words.

If you’re the bold on and you get down to the level of his head because he can’t easily escape this machine right now to say something. I'm thinking like a “Simon, I’m going to need a thigh riding session at 1800 hours. Put that on your damn schedule.” And just walk out. Don’t elaborate.

He’s struggling to get out of the machine, considering chasing after you, possibly having a stroke over it. He’s so flustered he’s down right gasping for air. If he didn’t have shit to do today he’d scoop you up and show you want all these muscles could do just to get you to feel like how flustered he is.

Konig

(see the fic about his wife seeing him lift, its on my masterlist (its pinned))

Gaz

By the time you’ve started dating, you know Gaz is jacked. Just look at him ffs. Anyone could see it.

So you do the only reasonable thing and insist on being his gym partner.

And in turn he will insist on spotting your squats.

If you get so nervous you fail a set his plan springs into action. Bro has it lifted in one hand. He doesn't care if it's a lot. He WILL be lifting it in one hand just so you can see how strong he is.

“Kiss for your savor?” He asks.

“Sure.” You reply, pecking his lips.

But no no no.

“Love, I meant you’re actual savor.” He’d say, flexing that one arm and pointing to it.

Just roll your eyes and do it. It’s easier.

He is GLOWING for the rest of the day. He will now take any and all opportunities to lift heavy things for you.

That big box? Lifted. Come kiss his muscles. Cuz if you don’t he's picking you up and putting you in air jail for being ungrateful.

I feel like because Gaz is so lean its kinda a sleeper build situation? Could be completely using that term wrong but IDC.

Lowkey loves nothing more than you feeling up his abs under his shirt when yall are going to bed. Like your hands feel so nice on them when he’s flexing extra hard so they’re rock solid for you.

First time yall cuddled he almost passed out because he was trying to keep his muscles flexed for so long.

Edit: here’s Keegan

Keegan

Keegan was always walking around the house in the sluttiest tank tops and the lowest waist line sweatpants you’ve ever seen.

He had been showing off since he first met you, so I’ll tell you how it happened.

What did he wear on your first date? Tight ass t shirt and a leather jacket with black jeans.

He essentially was giving a strip show when he slowly took off that jacket, made sure you were watching when he did it with a smug look.

“What wrong, doll? Distracted?” He was definitely flexing hard. Pecs and biceps on full display and don't get me started on how he was clenching to get his abs to show through.

He made sure to get real close to.

Oh dear is that a dirty puddle, let him just… yk… casually pick you up to carry you over the smallest puddle ever.

And when he’s at the gym? You are getting tons of selfies. Those videos of him curling weights that are slightly too heavy all because he knows you like the sound of the groans he makes as he struggles to lift it. Oh he is hip thrusting your weight and a half, so you know you’ll never be too heavy. There’s a video he sent that was 10+ minutes of just him thrusting your weight. You honestly thought it was looped.

Oh and he carries your weight when he runs on the treadmill so he knows he and run and keep you safe if need be.

Here’s Krueger (i got carried away, enjoy)

Krueger:

Sebstian knows he’s already strong.

Picking you up and benching you is his favorite hobby. The way you can't help but giggle and he has to scold you to stop wiggling.

He’s always throw around his weight with you. He knows he’s a big. He loves to lay on you to stop you from moving.

Loves to have you lay on his torso with the weight at his hips as he works on his hip thrusts. Got kicked out of a gym because it was dangerous so he got weights to do it at home. Will do it shirtless so you can trace his tattoos.

Definitely has never told you he committed murder because he doesn’t want you to stop looking at him like he’s your savior as you rub his sore muscles.

God he loves having you rub his muscles, he just tries not to drool as you rub his calves and biceps with all the force your hands can muster to gently rub the knots away. One time he felt so good he almost cried as you rubbed one out of the back of his neck, he got so bricked he couldnt help it he felt like he was gasping for air the pleasure was so intense.

He’d never tell you that tho, no he’d rather die and speak up and tell you how good it feels when your massage his muscles while planting small kisses after every knot you work out. Definitely going to keep asking you to work his aches away… wonder if he can convince you he has a knot in his dick, no no wouldn’t do that to you not yet.

[shadow4-1]

bro this MIGHT come off as the cringiest thing ever known to mankind but im probably the biggest game geek god has ever laid hands on so;

part time game developer!reader (or something like that anyways) was bored one day and decided to start to yk develop a game - in this au the cod games ovbi dont exist - but she makes a little demo of cod.. and when one day on base soap or some1 catches reader writing ideas and such (obviously not the actual missions they go on - that’s confidential) something in a note book he tells the others (more like gaz) and they get curious and bug reader until she tells them that she made a game demo including the 141…

and idk maybe she gives them the file so they can play it and they kinda like rate the things they say in the cutscenes or smth idk have fun with it

but yeah thats the idea thats been swarming through my mind for the past couple of days since i’ve found your account (WHICH I BTW LOVE i love how you portray all of the characters and shit)

byebye

Oh my gosh not cringe! This is such a cute idea!!! (Also thank you for the really cute gif! I love puppies :3)

I'm such a huge fan of weird meta stuff in my fanfictions. Like, the characters know but they don't know they're in a videogame? Haha, ngl I've had some thought about this too! Lemme add to your imagine real quick:

You spent all of your early adolescence learning how to code and make lil' games on your shitty old laptop. Now, with the more advanced tech the 141 had provided you, you take to making even more cool things during your (limited) free time.

The first game you felt confident enough to show off was a rough prototype of a fighting game. It only had two characters loosely based off of both Ghost and Soap. You showed it to Gaz as more of an offhanded joke, but he was excited. He too knew some things about game development and decided to help you out on the project.

It still wasn't a polished game, per se, but it was playable. Soap caught wind of your game and begged to try it out. With Gaz's help, you set up the firmware using an emulator and the jailbroken game console in the rec room. You felt so shy showing off something you did for fun.

And it was a huge hit!

Even with only two characters recruits and officer's alike spent hours playtesting and figuring out how to make combos. The room erupted into cheers when Soap figured out the first finishing move!

"Oi, Bonnie! I think you migh've made something really special here!"

[faegutz]

Hmmmm cuz I have a headache rn, what about the 141( + Konig and Los vaqueros) helping a gn reader with a migrane?

migraines and how they help ☆ pairing: 141 + los vaqueros + konig × gn! reader

authors note: i barely have migraines but when i do it hurts so much. Im gonna be honest and say im not too proud of these and i had no idea what to write sometimes- But hope you feel better soon anon and i hope you enjoy! :)

tags: migraine, hurt comfort?, domestic, probably ooc, medicine mentions, soft cod men

"CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE"

- dad mode activated !

- has a whole cabinet specifically full of medicine, some thermometers, etc.

- gives you some aspirin and water

- the type to make you go to bed and nap and will refuse to let you get out of bed or do anything yourself

- just tell him what you need and he'll get it!! no need to get up

- will lay down with you and caress your face, occassionaly giving you soft kisses on the forehead

- will always take care of you when you dont feel good and make sure you feel better before he stops

"Let me take care of you,"

"SIMON GHOST RILEY"

- kinda confused on how hes supposed to help you but hes trying okay

- will go to the store and get you something that will help you with the pain

- hes never really taken care of someone before so hes a little awkward

- he wants you to lay down and get some rest but he also doesnt want to baby you

- so he just kinda stands there while you do your thing, watching and waiting in case you need his help with anything

- if you ask him to lay down with you, he will and he'll make sure to hold you close

- "It's okay, love,"

"JOHN SOAP MACTAVISH"

- i feel like he gets sick maybe once a year so he has no clue how to even help with a migraine

- will stand in the medicine aisle at the store, staring at every single thing thats on the shelf and having no clue what to grab

- doesnt want to call you and bother you because youre in pain, so he ends up asking someone else in the aisle what the hell youre supposed to get for a migraine

- gets home about 5 minutes later than he should because he took so long just standing in the store with a confused look on his face

- will make you soup or something warm because that usually helped him when he was sick or in pain

- he almost started a fire because he forgot he was even making you food since he was more distracted by worrying over you and making sure you were comfortable !! how fun

- "Uh, the soup is burnt.."

"KYLE GAZ GARRICK"

- he definitely gets sick often, and hes almost an expert on how to help you

- makes sure you drink water regularly and occasionally take an aspirin

- most of the migraines hes ever gotten was because he was stressed

- so he practically gives you a therapy session and asks you what gave you the headache and if you were stressed

- lets you just talk it out if you were stressed

- keeps a close eye on you and makes sure you drink enough water and that you eat

- "Tell me whats been bothering you,"

"ALEJANDRO VARGAS"

- immediately notices that youre in pain when he sees you wince or squint your eyes

- is ready with pain medication and some water

- he offers to give you a back massage and hes very skilled with his hands so it feels amazing

- he makes sure to close all the blinds or curtains so its darker inside so the pain is less for you

- whispers in your ear about how much he loves you just so you feel relaxed and comfortable

- gives you kisses on the top of your head and soothingly rubs your back in circles

- "Te amo mucho,"

"RODOLFO RUDY PARRA"

- out of all the characters on this list, I have a feeling he would definitely be the best caretaker for you

- makes sure you get sleep and drink water, will literally hold you down if he has to

- he holds you against his chest while you sleep, staying by your side the whole time

- will cook meals for you and basically do everything for you

- suggests turning on some soothing noises or guided meditation sounds on the TV that will help you relax

- he also will brush your hair/do your hair for you if you find it relaxing

- "Solo relájate, cariño."

"KONIG"

- ohh hes so sorry that youre in pain and he tries his best to comfort you in any way he can

- hes not sure what to do himself but if you ask anything of him he will get right on it

- frequently asks if youre comfortable or if you need him to do anything

- it almost gets annoying, but he just wants to make sure youre taken care of and that you feel better soon

- he has no clue how to cook most things so he does the next best thing and goes to the store and buys all your favorite snacks for you

- "Do you need anything else, meine liebe?"

[charliemwrites]

Hii I wanna say how much I just LOVE your writing your so amazing that I could marry you rn

(Don't do this if you don't wanna for any reason)

Could you do one where ghost, soap, and gaz come back and everyone being there kinda gets to reader and price and Johnny just keep pushing boundaries with her and she's so agitated and tired she starts crying? And maybe ghost gets protective and soda gets in there face to make them stop and leave her alone?

Everyone is visiting. And you’re happy - you are! Even if Price still makes you a bit nervous sometimes, twitching away. Or you make a sport of hunting Johnny.

They’re coming off a big mission, a successful one, thankfully. No one seems especially injured either, so it’s sure to be a fun night.

And it is,,., for the first minute. But there’s a lot of people in your space all at once, laughing and joking and greeting you, coming in for scritches and pets. You’re trying to be nice, even letting price and Johnny get away with more than you usually allow.

And then at some point you realize you haven’t even gotten to hug Simon yet, that you haven’t gotten to have a moment with him. Haven’t even seen him in the last ten minutes. He’s… somewhere. You don’t know where. You like knowing where everyone is in the house; it’s yours.

You don’t quite know when the pleasant stimulation of voices and touches gets to be too much. But suddenly it is. Johnny reaches to pick you up and you yelp, loud and high pitched and distressed, kicking and scratching.

“Down, down, down, no more,” you chant, squirming.

He’s trying to let you down gently, but you’re too frantic to cooperate. You end up nearly eating shit, eyes blurring with tears and starting to well and truly melt down.

You hear price’s voice booming over the frantic questions of “what’s wrong, are you okay, what happened”. It’s too loud - but he’s calling for Simon at least. And Gaz gently hooks a finger in the pocket of your hoodie, guiding you away to the sun porch.

He sits you down with a glass of water and kneels down where you can see him, not crowding or speaking while you whimper “sorry” and “want simon.” Just there with you, soothing.

And then there’s a flicker of movement and you crawl into Simon’s arms, sniffling and still crying. He shushes you, lets you tuck into his neck, soothing.

“I know, feral, it was a lot of excitement, huh? Get a bit much?”

You nod pathetically. He coos and tilts his chin to let you nuzzle in.

“How about you stay on my lap the rest of the night and if it gets too much again, we take a little break, yeah? But the boys really wanna see you.”

You nod. You want to see the boys too, even if they’ve been a lot.

“Ready to go back?”

He gently ushers you back inside, barks a sharp “oi, settle” when Gaz and Johnny immediately start towards you.

“One at a time,” he growls. “No more tears tonight.”

And you, quiet and calm, climb onto his lap on the couch, where you happily spend the rest of the night.

[flweurlilac]

[Part One]

Cod characters react to you rejecting their confession </3

Part One ✦ Part Two

Character contains : ghost, konig, price, horangi, gaz & nikto

tw : nothing just fluff & maybe a tiny bity angst ♡ reader is poc but i see her as (black) chubby reader bcs my blogs is for chubby gals but i didnt put any descriptions abt readers body (or skintone) so you could have fun with it :) reader is afab btw ^^

♡ ghost

- big boy is mad

- no seriously he is mad.

- when the time you shook your head his sight whos first is kinda bright is now gloomy than ever.

- he would like give you a code about a question of why would you reject him.

- after he knows the reason, he is just kind of like [ *grunts* ... Fine. ]

- he still have a crush on u though, but he didnt have the courage to ask you again unless u change your mind and willing to confess your feelings for him <3

♡ konig

- blud is sad & angrei 😡

- have this '😡' expression after you reject him. But quickly turned into '😞😔' expression.

- quietly ask you "why.. Why darling?"

- after he knows the reason why he kinda try to make himself move on from you.

- but failed </3

- he still love you but he actually still mad at you for rejecting him.

- but he atleast try an effort to still respect you, but this dude is still over the heels for you <33

♡ price

- this is how his emotions looks like

- ☺->🙂->😐->😕->😞

- would quickly put his ciggarates once he saw you shook your head.

- ask you a question "am i not enough love?"

- he saw you shook your head again and heared you give yourself a reason of why would you reject him.

- after that he just went to like "oh.. Oh well fine then." But... He is still not over from you.

- i mean.. He sometimes try to take a glance at you when you were not looking.

- and trust me — this papa try reaaaally hard to not gawk over you cus umm.. He doesnt want to be embarassed.

- i mean.. This man has a lot of reputation in the military and the 141 group so.. better be patient.

- unless you're willing to change your mind and accept him, he would be over the moon :)

♡ horangi

- literally gave you a '😐' to '😒' stare right after u shook ur head and said the word "no"

- try not to look to angry at you bcs you just break his little tiger heart 💔

- he also try not to BARK when he sees you talking to his other comrades (including konig, bcs he is a jealous tiger)

- he would demand ask his comrades to ask you about why would you reject such a value man like him.

- would give you a side eye 24/7 after he knows the reason.

- but pls dont be mad at him for that, he still have a crush on you he just dont want to be seem as desperate.

- infact, giving u a side eye 24/7 is to get your attention back to him ... 😏

♡ gaz

- oh my god.. His heart is just like a snow that is being crushed by someones hands.

- would looked like a kicked puppy after you said "no" To him.

- would ask you quietly "why....?"

- after he knows the reason his whole mood is just become gloomy no matter how reasonable the reason is.

- bcs he is a shy bean so having him confessing his feelings for someone that he loves/likes require a lot of confidence for him to do it so he is really feeling that butt-hurt feelings.

- he actually still love you but he would never ever admit this again. He is too too shy beanie to do it. (Pls do it for him<3)

♡ nikto

- literally angy and sad

- he is infact big (almost like konig) but once he heard the word "no" From you he almost felt his strong and muscly heart being melted.

- he look at you with shocked expression and ask "why.. was i not enough?"

- after he know the reason he is still gloomy and sad of course. But he is not going to give up bcs he is a really determined man so he is really willing to say it back to you.

- unless this time.. He has more bigger & well prepare.

♡❀♡ Note : Guyssss this is my first time writing for nikto hcs/imagines, he is another of the masked men in cod and he was really really underrated, many ppl still didnt recognize his appereance (maybe some are but just dont really that care about him.) so i had to add him on this list. I'll make a part two maybe later with alejandro, rudy, valeria, alex, makarov and keegan :) tell me wht characters should i add in the next part! Enjoy!

[pekoehoneyncream]

Ghoaptober # 31

Prompt: Knife

Words: 1500~

TW: Allusions to Torture (sfw)

This version of Ghoaptober was created by @spadesandshovels

This is the last one folks! All good things must come to an end, I suppose. This has been really fun to do! It's been great to stretch my writing skills, I feel like I improved over the course of the month, at least I hope I did, I definitely had to do less grammar and spelling corrections as we progressed, so there's that.

I wanted to thank everyone who's left such kind comments for me, you're feedback really does mean the world to me, Thank You!

If you want me to write more please do drop me an ask, I'd love to hear from you!

And with all of that said, onto the fic

Enjoy!

A shriek echoed out from the microscopic kitchenette crammed into the back of the disused officer’s rec room that the one-four-one had co-opted, Ghost and Price launched off the sagging sofa towards the noise. They charged into the kitchenette, Ghost wielding a knife and Price his hand-gun, ready to end any threat to their Sergeants.

There was no threat, just Soap trying to hide his awkward blush in his mug of coffee while Gaz stared at him with something close to abject horror. 

“Tav, mate, what the fuck is wrong with your tongue.” Gaz demanded, willfully ignoring that he’d just screamed like an arachnophobe confronting Shelob and the fact that his superiors hadn't hesitated in running to his hypothetical rescue. 

Price huffed and reholstered his gun, Ghost putting away his knife much more slowly. “Just what exactly is going on?” He demanded with an edge to his voice that suggested he was already regretting that he’d asked, “Why are you screaming over Soap’s tongue?”

“Well, Cap,” Soap started with a lewd tilt of his eyebrows and a goading grin,

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Gaz cut over him with a biting tone, “but, I didn’t expect to be confronted by the fact that Soap is an actual fuckin’ demon on a casual Thursday afternoon, Price.”

“Garrick, we talked about this,” Price scolded,

“Yeah,” Ghost agreed, “Johnny can’t be a demon, his rosary'd burn him.”

“Wha!” Soap sputtered in sheer disbelief, “Youse thought Ah’m a demon?!”

“No one’s that lucky, Tav.” Gaz said with flat seriousness, “There’s gotta be some kinda something going on.” 

“Would a deal with a demon make you demonic?” Ghost mused in an exaggeratedly ponderous tone, casting his gaze up to the ceiling tiles so that the flabbergasted expression Soap’s face was stretching into couldn't make him laugh.

Gaz perked up, snapping and pointing at Ghost in a eureka-esque motion, “Yes! That’s totally it!” He exclaimed, practically bouncing on his toes with his triumph. 

“Riley-”

“I cannae make a deal wit’ a demon!” Soap cut over Price, slamming his mug down to free up his hands for incensed gesturing, “Mah Grannie would disown me!” 

“Then how do you explain-” Gaz flailed a hand in the direction of Soap’s mouth, lacking the words to describe just what in fuck was going on in there, “-that!”

A look of cartoonish offence slid onto Soap’s face. Ghost watched him brace his hands on his hips and draw himself up to his full height, hamming it up. Trying to make it into an easily deflected joke. Concern kicked at the back of Ghost’s sternum, if Johnny was deflecting it meant the real answer was nothing good. 

Ghost had learned early on that Johnny was one of the most open, shameless, oversharing freaks that walked this earth. He had watched Johnny laugh his way through retelling stories and anecdotes that would have sent consummate exhibitionists blushing through the floor on multiple occasions. Ghost had also been quick to cotton on to the fact that it was for the best to follow up on the topics that Johnny tried to deflect, as they were generally things that would have a therapist crying and Johnny really was better off getting them off his chest. Ghost usually let it go and tried to circle back around to those deflections when they were alone and Johnny was feeling safe, but with Gaz latched onto this like a starved dog with a butcher bone, that wasn’t an option. 

Sure, Ghost could probably distract Gaz and help Johnny wiggle out of this, but debriding old wounds is always a good team bonding experience. 

Gaz and Soap had stagnated into their usual pattern of bandying insults back and forth. Having a grand time of pretending to be sputtering in high dudgeon whenever the other would quip back with something particularly clever. Ghost cut his eyes to Price, and jerked his chin at Johnny upon catching the Captain’s eye. 

Yes, Ghost wanted Johnny to talk about it, but he didn’t want his boyfriend upset with him either. 

“Right,” Price cut in after giving Ghost a roundly rancorous look, “Soap, why is Garrick accusing you of having a demonic tongue. Without!” He hastily amended when Soap turned overblown fuck-me eyes on him, “any chirpsing if you would.”

“Aye, right. Uh-” Soap hesitated, staring down at his feet and rubbing at his nape as he tried to gather the right words to explain this, “Reckon he mean’ this.” He gave up and just stuck his tongue out. 

Soap could admit that he got a bit of a kick out of watching their uncomprehending looks warp into horrified incredulity when his tongue split down the middle. He wiggled the two sides up and down in opposite directions of each other and briefly twined them into a coil to drive the image home, then retracted it back behind the safety of his teeth with as much casual finesse as he could muster. 

There was a beat of silence, then a cavalcade of questions. Soap’s personal favourite was Ghost’s ‘how did I not notice?’ said in the tone of a man on the edge of a revelatory breakdown. A close second was Price’s muttered ‘that can’t be within regs.”, but topping the charts for sheer volume was Gaz.

“What!” He shrieked, “What the fuck! When’d you get that!?” his voice dripped with a queer mix of awe, horror, and morbid fascination. 

Soap hummed uncertainly, casting his mind back, swallowing against the phantom taste of blood creeping up his throat to pool at the back of his mouth, “Mus’ a been aroun' twenty-sixteen? Some’hing like tha’,”

“Twenty-sixteen.” Price muttered, mentally rifling through Soap’s file, there was something about that year that had the klaxons spinning up in Price’s subconscious, “Not October twenty-sixteen?” 

“Aye,” Soap nodded, keeping his eyes on the ground, “Tha’d be the one.”

“Corporal MacTavish was detained by enemy forces eighth October twenty-sixteen and was successfully recovered twelfth October twenty-sixteen. In enemy custody, Corporal MacTavish was subjected to physical maltreatment, most notably manifesting in substantial damage within the oral cavity. Injury permanent but non-disfiguring. Corporal MacTavish states that no intelligence was provided to the adversary while in custody.” Price quotes -impressively word for word- from the truncated after action report that had been the script for far too many of his nightmares, “That October twenty-sixteen?” 

“Got ‘er in one, Cap.” Soap confirms, idly grinding his tongue between his teeth, “Yanno, they did offer tae fix it. The medics.” He spoke on just to break the heavy silence that had conquered the room, “But they’d have had tae open it up again, cause it’d been cauterized, so Ah said no' tae bother.”

They'd told him that as it was a 'non-invasive procedure' only local numbing would be provided and Soap would not be letting anyone else come at his tongue with a knife unless he was unconscious, dead, or dying. 

“Tav," Gaz pressed out slowly, hesitantly, “That’s fucked, mate.”

“Aye,” Soap nodded, staring down at the kitchenette’s cheap linoleum. Blinking to force the floor back into dingy tiles when his brain tried to twist it into stained concrete. He huffed a small flat laugh, more to force the scent of iron and dank stone from his nose than anything else, “Aye, twasn’t mah idea ae fun neither.”

“Johnny,” Ghost drew his name out into a devastated whine and lunged forward to coil around Soap in a protective embrace. Heart splitting at the shakiness he could feel in Johnny’s shallow breaths as he clutched his boyfriend to his chest. 

“Ah’m alrigh’,” Johnny assured, but the tear-fighting sniff he tried to conceal in Ghost’s pecs said something different. 

“You’re alright,” Price agreed, lay a grounding hand on Soap’s shoulder. 

“Yeah,” Gaz poked at Soap’s sensitive sides to force a wet giggle out of him, “Course you’re alright, Tav. You’ve got us and if those fucks aren’t already dead I’m sure Ghost is drafting up like ten different plans for how to track ‘em down and kill ‘em slow.”

Ghost was glad that Gaz’s joking was making Johnny feel better, and gave an intrigued pensive hum into the fluff of his warhawk to play along. 

It was actually fifteen different plans. 

“Okay. Okay.” Soap barked, shaking them off once he was absolutely positive that he wasn’t about to start bawling like a bairn as soon as they let go, “Mah goddamn coffee’s gonnae be fuckin’ cold now ye muckers.” 

“Do you want me to make you a new cup, so you don't have to microwave it?” Ghost offered, love surging within him for the wide blue eyes that swung his way. 

“Would ye, mo chridhe?” Johnny begged prettily. 

Ghost hooked a thumb under his balaclava, lifting it over his mouth just long enough to press an adoring kiss unto Johnny’s lips, then turning away to make him the promised fresh cuppa, fluidly stealing his mug to dump and refill it.

Both men were content to ignore the way Gaz faked a retch over their sappy mush, as he practically stepped on Price’s heels following after the Captain on his tactical retreat back to the sofa.

Thank You For Reading!

Some nice hurt/comfort to round off the month. It didn't make it into the fic but the reason that his captors split Soap's tongue is because he wouldn't stop talking back, just a fun fact for y'all.

Did anyone want me to make a masterlist for all of these? with ratings and short descriptions or something? there's already links to the full series on my masterlist, but that just has the prompts, so I was wondering if a masterlist would be helpful. Let me know!

PekoeHoneynCream's Masterlist

[blingblong55]

Their sizes - COD men NSFW

Estimate the length of cod men ahem 

Please I wonder 😆 

Guess you ever thought of it

A/N: this is all for fun, so don't get offended. Also, lets be real to those who have had sex, 12.7cm (5 in.) is genuinely a good size. Girth and thickness are really what matters most of the time.  Remember this is my personal opinion...

Price:  girthy, definitely heavy and the size is a good 14.224cm, (5.6 in.)

Gaz:  when I say it's thick..it's thick, 16.51cm, (6.5 in.)

Ghost: it's a little heavy and so are his balls 15.748 cm (6.2 in.) 

Soap: honestly, I think he's a good 13.13cm (5.17 in.)

König: based on photograph that is canon I'd say he is a good 17.78cm (7 in.) he has a fat cock, both when soft and hard and it's very heavy, especially when he slaps you with it

Keegan P. Russ: 14.73cm (5.8in.) his isn't so thick but it's the way he fucks you that makes the experience better

Alejandro Vargas: 15.74 cm (6.2 in.) and it's veiny and girthy, he brags about how it makes you crazy, especially when you ride it

Rodolpho Parra: 14.98 cm (5.9in.) he has a pretty dick, let's be real this man is very pretty, and his dick is no different, but his balls are heavy 

Philip Graves: 12.95 cm (5.1in) small if compared to some on this list but he makes up for it when it comes to fucking, he uses his size and thickness when it matters

Sebastian Krueger: 15.74 cm (6.2in) like most, his is veiny and fat but i'd say his balls are a tad heavier

Nikto: 14.478 cm (5.7 in) fat enough to have you gagging pretty hard on it and he loves it when you struggle

Horangi: 12.95cm (5.1) unlike Graves, his is fat and very heavy but it's also the way he fucks and I canon him as a nasty sex kind of guy so trust me... it's a good size

Logan Walker: 16.25 (6.4in.) his balls are heavy and he loves the noise it makes when he fucks you raw

David Walker: 15.74 (6.2 in.) I can't explain it but he has a pretty dick like seriously pretty but also very thick and hard to fit in your mouth

Vladimir Makarov: 13.21 cm (5.2in.) His is girthy and veiny

Alex Keller: 14.73cm (5.8in.) fat cock. that's it

Mace: 17.78cm (7 in.)...here me out, he is very cocky about his size and sometimes loves to fuck you raw to hear your cries and whimpers

A/N: I love writing or reading about monster-sized dicks but I believe that 17.78 (7 in.) is the limit in real life because it kinda hurts if its above that number in my opinion

@darkeyebag22 hope this helps–?

[starryylies]

Hi !!! Idk if you've done this already but can you do my angel boy Gaz and Ghost with a girl who love scary movies ??? I feel like they'd totally have the mentality of "I gotta comfort her when she's scared" but Gaz specifically flinches and I think Si would like "brace" if that makes sense like wincing his eyes. I dunno if you've done something like that but your emo story reminded me of me and it made me so happy I'm a metalhead and I was gonna ask for more but it was already in there and that just mad emy day ilysm already okay bye -🫀

Simon n Gaz watching a horror movie with s/o

HELLOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Again so sorry (I’m sorry for saying sorry sm) but like Omg I love this cuz I love horror smmmm!!! Insidious,suspiria,Bwp, conjuring you name it I love them omgggg.

So thank you so much for the awesome ask and I hope you enjoy it 🩷🩷🩷

Also I used the movies sinister and lights out for the references :))

SIMON-

♰ he thought watching the movie sinister will be fun cuz he thought he could protect you from the jumpscares

♰ he needs to be protected from the damn movie tho (okay this movie is fucked up tho and it’s totally normal to be scared)

♰in the beginning he thought it will be some poorly made movie with shit ass jumpscares but boy was he wrong

♰ when the scene of the family hanging themselves comes on he was taken aback and he lets out an audible wince shutting his eyes

♰ he genuinely finds the movie scary and gory, cannot help but find himself wince and shut his eyes whenever he thinks there will be a jumpscare

♰ as the movie progressed and the other tapes were revealed he just couldn’t take it anymore, his limit broke off when the mowing scene came

♰ but you seemed to be enjoying the movie, anticipating what the next scene will reveal

♰ he shut the tv before he could see further, it was too much for him

♰ “fuckin hell love this movie is a fuckin nightmare” he groans

♰ “noo It’s a well made film :( plus I enjoy a good scare ya know”

♰ god how could you be so chill with it, he can’t tell if he should admire you or keep his distance

♰dw he admires you :)

♰ keeps on ranting about how he’d never do such a stupid fucking thing

♰ says Ellison was a stupid fuckin idiot for getting his family there and curses him for the rest of the day

♰ asks you your opinion on the movie and who you think is recording the tapes

♰ ends up going on the net to see how the movie ends cuz he can’t let it go

♰when he finds out the ending he has an ‘aha’ moment.

♰ tries watching the movie again but ends up stopping in the beginning itself cuz he can’t handle it.

♰ probably doesn’t want kids after this movie

GAZ-

♰ Awh this poor guy just wanted to watch a scary movie with you to hold you when you’re scared but it kinda ends up being the opposite

♰ you both decide on watching lights out (I wanted to pick hereditary or mother but too much cuz I’m writing this at 3am)

♰ see lights out is a Pretty chill film but Diana is creepy as hell and sadly gaz became a victim to Diana’s jumpscares

♰ when she killed the dad gaz visibly flinched like on the edge of the sofa hoping the dad would survive

♰ but boom the bitch killed him :/

♰ felt really bad for the brother (Martin)

♰sympathised with him a lot by saying he’s a good kid and that he’s really strong.

♰ surprised on how you’re not getting scared or anything

♰ thinks that you have watched this film before

♰ gaz got shit scared during the scene where Rebecca and her boyfriend came and Diana creeped around them

♰ the end made him tear up just a lil :(

♰ you ended up comforting him holding him close cuz he felt bad about their mom

♰ thinks it’s adorable how you give lil facts about the movie from time to time though.

♰ cursed Diana for the rest of the day,

♰ if you take any medications, don’t worry you’ll never miss them now cuz gaz will make sure you eat yours on time

♰ keeps the bathroom and living room lights on that night

♰ will search for movies like lights out

♰ will never watch them though

♰ is proud that he got closer to you tho

♰ will definitely hold you the entirety of the movie

♰ will never have a horror movie date again tho

♰ but will watch a horror movie with you if you ask him cuz how can he say no to you :))

[a-daydreamers-stories]

Hey! This is an AU I thought would be fun and thanks to my friend @sherriesherbet I decided to write it! I'm not an expert in COD or UFC, so things will be wrong, sorry. This will be multiple parts, not sure how many yet. Hope you enjoy it!

The reader is a plus-size reader, this will be an 18 + story, minors do not interact

Never done this fandom before so if you'd like to be tagged for future parts let me know

Chapter warnings: Violence? Nothing really specifically mentioned yet

Chapter 1

Reader’s POV

“Please come with me! I won these two amazing tickets and my bud that was supposed to go is sick.” My brother whined out as he looked at me with big puppy dog eyes. I sighed and instantly regretted letting him into my apartment, it was my night off and I had been looking forward to lounging in my pjs as I ate takeout and watched sitcoms. 

“Don’t you have any other friends to take?” 

“No! Everyone else is busy or out of town since its last notice.”

“And you assumed I wasn’t busy?” I raised an eyebrow at him, he turned to look around my living room and then to the pjs I was already wearing. 

“You are?” 

“Yes I am,” I huffed at him and folded my arms over my chest as I snuggled deeper into the couch. “Now fuck off, I’m not going.” 

“Please! I have no one else, I’ll get you dinner too! Anything that you want just please come with me…” He begged even going so far as to get on his knees and hold his hands together. 

“Fine... Fine! I’ll go, what the hell do I even wear to this?” 

“Just go put on jeans and a shirt.”  He jumped up and fist-pumped the air like the dork he was. 

“Whatever you owe me,” I grumbled as I got off the couch, pushing him onto it as I made my way to the bedroom. I quickly showered and changed into jeans and a nice black tank top before putting on my sneakers. Walking out of my bedroom my brother popped up from the couch as I did with a big smile on his face. I couldn’t help but smile back, though I did shake my head at him. 

“Ready?” He asked excitedly. 

“Yeah, I’m ready.” After grabbing my phone and purse, I nodded and gestured for him to head out of my apartment. We left my apartment before I locked it up and headed to him to his car. “So how did you win these tickets?” 

“Radio contest spent a whole day listening to get these and I swear I called like 20 times but then I won! They’re amazing tickets too, fucking front-row seats!”  

“Okay okay calm down before you start hyperventilating.” 

“I’m just so excited!”  

“I can tell, remember to breathe though I don’t want to die because you passed out at the wheel.” 

“Shut up,” He playfully pushed my shoulder as he continued to drive towards the stadium. I couldn’t help but laugh, it was so funny to watch him get so excited like a teenager going to their first concert. We eventually made it into the stadium, parking had been a nightmare situation to try and figure out. He pulled out the tickets and we were guided to our seats, my brother moved into his seat and shot me an excited grin as I sat beside him. 

“Are you going to fangirl when these guys come out?” 

“No!” He narrowed his eyes at me in a playful glare. 

“Uh-huh,” I smirked at him and he rolled his eyes before something behind me caught his eye and he gasped. 

“Oh god…” 

“What?” I asked in confusion before looking in the direction he was looking in, an older man with mutton chops was slowly coming down one of the walkways. Tight black t-shirt molded over his wide shoulders and straining on his biceps and jeans that molded to a very delicious ass. The back of his shirt had the number 141 on it. “Who’s that?” 

“That’s John Price, he’s the head coach for the 141 Academy, his top boys are fighting tonight, and behind him coming out for the first fight is Gaz!” 

“Gaz? What kinda name is Gaz?” I asked as I spotted the handsome bronze man, probably somewhere near my age or my brother’s, coming down the hallway behind him in gold UFC shorts. 

“Well his real name is Kyle Garrick but he goes by Gaz in the ring.” Gaz flashed a smile and waved at the crowd causing a lot of girlish giggling and whistling as he moved to the ring. John patted him on the back and whispered in his ear, Gaz nodded back to him twice before flashing him a bright smile and clapping John’s shoulder. He practically bounced into the ring, full of energy and oozing charm. It was hard to believe someone as pretty as him, fights for a living but then his fight starts and you can see the hardness settling into his features, making him a little sharper and his entire focus is on the fight. 

He and the other man in the ring are similarly built but Gaz is faster and more calculated with his strikes, it doesn’t end in a knockout but Gaz does win the fight in the end. The referee lifts his arm at the end which causes a quick grimace to fall on Gaz’s face before he flashed the crowd a blinding smile, that’s only slightly bloody, which causes the crowd to lose their minds as they erupt into ear-piercing screams. I couldn’t help but clap for the man before he got out of the ring and John patted him on the back with a proud smile, saying something to the fighter. Looking him over before nodding to a different hallway than the one he came out of. 

“He’s sending him to the medic to get looked over, the other guy managed to hit him pretty hard in the ribs.”  My brother explained as Gaz walked away, cheers following him as he went. John moved his sight back to the other hallway and a few minutes later another man appeared from there, this man had a mohawk and was a bit broader than Gaz had been with blue UFC shorts on. 

“Who’s this one?”  I asked my brother. 

“Oh! This is Soap! He’s from Scotland.” 

“Soap? Why the fuck is he called Soap?” 

“Because he’s a slippery motherfucker.” My brother smirked and I snorted at that rolling my eyes. 

“Alright, gotta admit that’s pretty original for a UFC fighter name.”  

Soap stopped in front of John and started talking, it was still too loud to hear him clearly over the crowd but there were bits and pieces of an accent that reached us, John rested his hands on Soap’s shoulders and made the younger man look at him before he started talking to Soap. Soap nodded to him, a smirk on his face, there was a cocky yet capable attitude to him. John squeezed Soap’s shoulders before nodding to him and stepping aside, Soap got into the ring. The man he was facing was slightly taller than Soap and not quite as wide. 

The fight started and it was clear why they called him Soap, even with his wide frame, Soap dodged hits smoothly. He taunted his opponent with a smirk and a cocky joke but while his opponent grew hot-headed, Soap remained cool and calm. Gaz came back in the middle of the fight and stood next to John to watch Soap’s fight. He cheered Soap on from the sidelines till the fight ended and Soap was pronounced the winner, the crowd went nuts for the Scot. 

His lip and was split and he had a black eye forming but overall he was in good shape as he made his way out of the ring. Gaz patted him on the back in congratulations and John rubbed his head affectionately as Soap beamed at the two of them. John pointed towards the Med hallway and Soap shook his head before saying something to John with a lopsided grin on his face. 

There was a hush that settled over the crowd suddenly and I looked at my brother confused, he nodded excitedly towards the hallway the men of the 141 Academy had been coming out of. My breath caught in my throat as I turned to look at the man coming down the walkway, he was an absolute tank of a man in red UFC shorts. Taller than the other two fighters and his biceps were bigger than my head, with crocodile scars covering them and the upper part of his chest. 

“That’s Mace…” My brother whispered in my ear, his voice in awe. 

“His UFC name is Mace or his actual name?” 

“Honestly? No one knows, he only goes by Mace.” My brother shrugged. We watched as Mace made it to the other men by the ring. John nodded toward him and Mace threw him a feral smirk and a nod in return, before getting into the ring. The crowd erupted into loud cheers and screams as he made it into the ring. This fight was the most interesting so far, Mace was a vicious opponent and his opponent couldn’t do more than block the harsh blows that Mace landed. By the end his opponent was a bloody mess that had only managed to land a few good blows, even though they didn’t seem to phase Mace much, it didn’t surprise anyone when the referee lifted his arm as the winner. He got out of the ring and wrapped an arm around Soap’s shoulder, smirking as he talked to him, Gaz, and John. 

“Next is the main event of the night, it’s the last fight!” My brother told me and then pushed my shoulder excitedly as the hallway door opened again. My gaze traveled to the man coming out and my eyes widened as my stomach fluttered, this man was huge too. Just as big if not a little taller than Mace, though his arms were slightly smaller, he was no less intimidating though maybe more so with the look on his face. He had blonde hair, that was short on the sides and slightly longer on the top. He had scars on his face, small ones scattered along his face, a large one going diagonal from his chin to the bottom of his eye, and another larger one going down through his eyebrow on the other side. He had on black UFC shorts but right above where the short ended on his right leg was the design of a skull. 

“That’s Ghost…” 

“Ghost?” 

“Yeah, no one knows what his name is either. They just call him Ghost.”  

“Let me guess because he’s a killer in the ring?” I smirked though I couldn’t take my eyes off the man as he made his way down to the ring. 

“That but he’s also a spooky fucker.” My brother chuckled. Ghost stopped in front of the other fighters and John, who spoke to him for a moment. Ghost just gave John a curt nod before he made his way into the ring. There were no smirks, no waves, he barely acknowledged the crowd gathered to watch him fight, only that his eyes scanned over the stadium while he waited for the fight to start. 

A shuddering breath escaped me as his eyes met mine pausing in his scan, the only thing that came to mind as this god of a man looked at me was to smile at him. His head tilted slightly and I could have sworn I saw a tick of one side of his mouth, almost like he would return it before he looked away towards his opponent. An intense focus settled over his face as he rolled his broad shoulders, waiting for his opponent to strike first.