#Kyle x reader

[paige1722]

So Much For A Safe House-END

Summary: You go on a mission with 141 and end up taking shelter in an abandoned building. The place is haunted, and you are all trapped inside; creepy things are happening. (Ghost of War-inspired)

Warnings: scares, violence, weapons, monsters, first-aid stuff, lots of gore

Chapter 1: Shelter Chapter 2: Hunter's Moon Chapter 3: Pinnacle to the Pit

Ah, I can't believe this is the final part. I hope you all like it! Also, since it took me so long to finish this part, there's a small bonus at the end.

Chapter 4: See the Light

Deciding that you should all move back into the living room before anything else happens, you pack up the first aid kit and grab the discarded weapons, tactical vests, and flashlights to move them back into the living room next to the fireplace and sleep bags to be dealt with later. Heading back into the kitchen for what feels like the 100th time that night, you go to help Price carry Gaz. 

Price was holding Gaz up on one side, supporting all of his body weight, waiting for your return. Moving to the other side, you place an arm around his back, allowing him to put his arm over your shoulders, effectively distributing the body weight between all of you and allowing Gaz to walk somewhat easier. Ghost was in a similar position with Soap, who could not put any pressure on his now broken ankle, hopping out of the room using Ghost as a crunch, they make their way into the living room. You, Price, and Gaz are following closely behind.

The fire was still going; however, it had dwindled a bit. Walking slowly to accommodate Gaz, you and Price set him down, helping him settle in, and the sleeping bags were set up in front of the fire. Soap is sitting on his sleeping bag, his injured ankle propped up on a makeshift cushion of a pillow and blanket, pulling out his small diary, which he always carries with him, and begins writing. Having caught a glimpse of his notebook before you figure he is probably adding notes about what has been happening here and some sketches. 

Price and Ghost are busy tending to the fire, talking in hushed voices, you can barely make out bits and pieces of their conversation, something about our chances not looking good with two injured. Not wanting to stress yourself out by eavesdropping on their conversation, you busy yourself with finding a new shirt for Gaz to wear. Rummaging through the bags, you managed to find a black long-sleeve thermal shirt that belonged to either Ghost or Price judging by the size, but you figured they wouldn’t mind letting Gaz borrow it for the time being. Walking over to where Gaz was lying, staring at the ceiling, a far-off look on his face. You sit criss-cross beside him, gently taping his shoulder to gain his attention, “here, I found you a shirt.” 

He turns his head to you, a small smile on his face at the gesture, “Thanks, Spark.” Reaching to grab the shirt, he pauses, “I think you will have to help me get dressed.” 

Giggling, you help him slowly sit up, bunching up the shirt; you pull it over his head and slowly pull his arms one at a time through each sleeve. Once both of his arms are in the shirt, you pull it the rest of the way down to cover his stomach, being mindful of his injuries. He leans back on his elbows, careful not to pull any of his stitches, and closes his eyes before slowly sliding back down in his sleeping bag. 

Static breaks the silence, causing you to jump at the sudden noise breaking the silence that had shrouded the room. The crackling coming from the long-forgotten radio gains the attention of everyone in the room. Price and Ghost are no longer talking, Gaz's head is turned towards the radio, and Soap has stopped writing in his notebook; everyone’s holding their breath, hoping that maybe it is just Laswell and that you are all about to be rescued.  

“.....re……it……fire…d..” 

You can barely make out the word fire from the static, causing you to instinctively glance towards the fire still burning bright. Price grabs the radio, hitting a few of the buttons, his forehead creasing in concentration. “It’s not even turned on…” You hear him mutter under his breath. 

 A voice from the radio cuts Price off. “It doesn’t like fire.” 

Static still echoed from the radio but more quietly once the message had been spoken. 

“Keep the bloody fire going then; I’ll burn this whole place to the ground if it comes to it,” exclaimed Gaz, pointing at the fireplace. 

Even though the fire was still burning and did not seem as if it would be dying any time soon, Ghost still placed more of the broken chair pieces into the heart of the fire. He looks at the few remaining pieces of the chair. You realize there are not enough pieces left of the chair to keep the fire going for the remainder of the night.

 You stand to your feet, announcing, “I’ll go back in the dining room and grab a couple more of the chairs for us to use.” 

Receiving a nod in return, you quickly jog out of the room and back into the dining room. Moving quickly, you grab two of the small wooden chairs that were strewn around the room. Not wanting to be alone for any longer than you have to be once you have a good hold on both chairs, you go back into the living room, where it sounds like an argument was taking place in your absence. 

Soap throws his hands up in the arm, his accent thick. “How do we know that it doesn’t like fire? Is that even true? What if it is just trying to trick us, we already know whatever the fuck it is can mimic voices!” His heavy breathing was all that could be heard as everyone thought about his words.

While listening to Soap’s exclamation, you placed the two chairs with the other pieces of wood, giving you a grunt of appreciation. Ghost then starts to break the chairs into more manageable pieces for the fire, creating a pile of wooden stakes. 

Sitting back down next to Gaz and thinking about what Soap had said, you thought about the voice; it sounded vaguely familiar. Furrowing your eyebrows, trying to think of where you heard it before you realize it was the same voice from the beginning of the night that said, ‘It is here now.’ Now that you have time to comprehend things a little more clearly, maybe the voice wasn’t the cause of the terror, but perhaps it was actually trying to warn you about the wendigo. Still sitting next to Gaz, you turn and look at him. Making eye contact, he gives a concerned look, like he can see that you have thought of something, and he gives you a subtle nod.  

Taking a deep breath, you share your thoughts, “I don’t think the voice we have been hearing on the radio is the wendigo or some sort of trick. I mean, it kind of seems like whatever it is has been warning us. Like it warned us when the creature first arrived.” 

You glance around the room at everyone’s faces before continuing, “The writing in the room was probably meant to scare us from any more exploration, but that obviously didn’t work, and now, since two of us are injured and we are trapped here until the storm is over, now it tells us a way to properly defend ourselves against the wendigo.” 

Once you finish, you shyly begin rubbing your shoulders, scared that others will not agree with your thoughts. Having said that, everyone seems to be in deep thought over the new information presented.

Soap gains your attention by clearing his throat, “Perhaps we should check the notebook you found again, Spark. Maybe if the voice was actually warning us, then something in the notebook could help, too.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the rest of the team send you both a questioning look. Price mouths ‘notebook?’ to Ghost, who just shrugs his shoulders in return.

Nodding your head, reaching into your pocket, and retrieving the once-forgotten small red notebook, Gaz peering up to see what you’re looking at. You run your hands over the raised leather of the strange symbol on the cover. Signing, you wished that you knew what the strange symbol meant since it was the same symbol that was on the key to the cellar door. 

Flipping to the first page, but just like last time, you are unable to understand the scribbling on the pages; it is almost like it was written in a different language. The only things you are able to make out are the same phrases about not letting it in and someone needing help. 

Realizing that the notebook is not going to be of any help if you can’t read it properly, you grow frustrated and scared with the entire situation you have all found yourselves in, and you throw the book across the room in anger. 

“I’m sorry, guys, I can’t read any of this. But the pictures are for certain drawings of the wendigo, so if I knew all the words written in there, then it would be more of a help. All I can make out are the few phrases not in that weird language.” you say, pulling your knees up to your chest, resting your head on your knees, trying to seek some comfort within yourself. Gaz slowly reaches up and puts a comforting hand on your back, giving you a sympathetic pat.

The small notebook hit the wall next to the fireplace and landed next to Ghost, who had still been tending to the fire every so often. Eyeing the notebook suspiciously, he picks it up, flips it open to the middle, and lets out a small grunt. 

“Of course, you can’t read it, Spark. Most of it is in Latin.” 

Your head shoots up, and your gaze lands on Ghost in surprise, “Latin! What the fuck? I thought that was a dead language.” 

Still looking through the notebook, Ghost replies, “Technically, but they still teach it in schools.” 

Price moves over next to Ghost, looking over his shoulder, “Well, does that mean you can read it then?”

He grunts in return, “I am not an expert or anything, but I think I can probably figure out the gist of things.” 

Ghost then spends the next few moments going through the notebook, trying to determine if there is any useful information in it, while the rest of you wait with bated breath for him to share his findings. 

After what feels like hours, Ghost sits up straight, pointing to one of the pages in the book, looking around at everyone, “According to the notebook, the wendigo is mainly active at night, but it will still come out during the day if it knows there's prey around. It cannot be killed by regular means. So, no bullets or anything; it heals too fast. Apparently, the only way to actually kill it is by burning it with fire, like that voice said. It also mentions they have a hard time seeing still prey.” 

Taking in the new information, Price slaps his hands on his thighs, “Well, now we know a way to protect ourselves: fire and no sudden movements. This new information can help us come up with a plan of attack.”

“Wait, there is something else.” Ghost speaks up, trying to decipher the small text that was written under one of the drawings of the creature feasting on something. 

“it says here don't become one of them.” 

What!” Soap yells, moving to stand but is stopped by his ankle, grimacing in pain, wrapping one hand around his hurt leg, slowly moving back to his previous sitting position, “What the fuck, does that mean?” 

 Turning the page, a similar picture can be seen, but instead, it is clearer what it is eating. The drawing is of a corpse being feasted upon by the Wendigo, with small text that could be seen at the bottom of the page. 

Pointing at the picture and turning the book around so everyone can see it, Ghost says. “eating the flesh of another.”

A sinking feeling forms in the bottom of your stomach, realizing how desperate someone would have to be for food, starving on the brink of death, feeling as if you have no other choice but to resort to cannibalism, eating someone that was once a friend or family member. Shaking your thoughts away, not wanting to think about that, you refuse to believe that it will even come close to that because in a few more hours, when it is finally daylight, this storm will be over, and you can finally make contact with Head-Quarters and get the hell out of this place once and for all. 

As if sensing your dark thoughts, Price speaks up, “Still, like this doesn’t change anything, we will stay here and keep the fire going.” He stands up and grabs one of the legs of the broken chairs from the pile and wraps a piece of torn cloth that was lying on the ground around one end of the stick, “if the wendigo somehow comes in, we will light a few of these on fire and kill the bastard. And once it's daylight and the storm is gone, we can call Laswell and get the hell out of here.” 

Gaz leans up the best he can on one elbow, “Yes, Sir. Though honestly, she has probably already worked out where we are, and as soon as the weather clears, we will already have a helicopter ready and waiting.” 

Gaz’s optimism rubs off on you as you smile in return to his wishful thinking, though knowing how meticulous Laswell is, he is more than likely correct in his assumption. The atmosphere in the room shifts to more calm at Price and Gaz’s words. Soap and Gaz both move to lie back down, shutting their eyes and finally feeling as if they can relax after their attack and constant worrying. All of the exhaustion catching up to your two teammates, the adrenaline from their near-death experience causing them to become tired quickly, and soft snores leaving them. Smiling slightly, you move Gaz’s blanket to cover him more, quietly grab your weapon, and sit next to the hastily boarded-up window to keep watch just in case.

 After a while, your body becomes stiff from sitting for so long, stretching your arms and legs out and hearing the satisfying pop. Glancing out of the window, you see the moon that was once high in the sky is now at the horizon, almost disappearing completely behind the trees of the forest, letting out a sigh of relief that this nightmare is almost a horrible distant memory. Then, all of a sudden, the wendigo jumps down from above, landing right in front of you on the other side of the window. Its breath fogs up the window as it stares down at you. Gasping at the sudden encounter, you jump back, aiming your weapon at the Wendigo. Your sudden outburst and movement catch the attention of Ghost and Price, who grab a piece of burning wood and stand on either side of you in front of the window. The tension in the room was thick; sweat was forming on your brow. Everyone was watching and waiting to see who would make the first move: your team or the creature.

“What’s the bloody thing doing?” you hear one of your teammates ask, you could barely make it out of the sound of your heart pounding in your chest, feeling like you were staring death right in the face. You weren’t sure why, but it felt as if it was smiling at you. 

Swallowing nervously, you whisper, “I think it is taunting us like it is trying to wait us out.” 

As soon as the words leave your mouth, the creature lets out a laugh. It was your laugh. The creature was using your own voice to torment you. You all watch as it raises its gnarled, bony finger and taps on the glass, pointing to where your two injured teammates lay blissfully unaware of the impending danger. Its yellow eyes move back, staring directly at you like it can see right into your soul. Its mouth opens once again, using your voice, “Two of us are injured. We are trapped here.” 

Feeling as if you can no longer breathe, you drop to your knees, resting one hand on the ground, keeping you from face-planting, your other hand placed on your chest, feeling the rapid beating of your heart and the quick rising and falling of your chest and you struggle to catch your breath. Tears flowed freely from your eyes, the burning in your throat causing you to let out pained gasps for breath. Feeling someone kneeling at your side, pulling you into them, your face pressed against their chest, feeling the slow and deep breaths they were taking, the rumbling of their chest as they speak slowly to you. 

“Come on, Spark. That’s it, nice and slow, match my breathing.” 

When you are no longer fighting to breathe, and it doesn’t feel like your lungs are about to explode, do you slowly move away from the person holding you. Wiping the tears that were still present on your face away, you look up to see Price’s comforting face beside you, one arm still on your back. 

“All better now, Spark?” his voice soft and comforting. 

Nodding your head in response, “Yes, Sir. I..I am sorry. It just was using my voice….The Wendigo?!!?” realizing that in the chaos of your panic attack, you forgot all about the reason for it. Quickly looking back to the window, you no longer see the wendigo glowering in the window frame, just the snowy forest. 

“It disappeared as soon as you fell on your knees. I think you were right about it wanting to taunt us.” said Ghost

You glance towards Ghost, who is still standing at your side. He was now holding Price’s fire stick from when he handed it off to Ghost to comfort you. Not wanting to burn the whole house down and force you all to take your chances outside, Ghost turns back to place the two burning sticks back into the fire. Patting your back twice, Price motions for you to follow. Grabbing your discarded weapon, you join them, standing in front of the fire. Ghost stands with his arms crossed, waiting for Price to share the next course of action. Price’s hands are holding on to the straps of his tactical vest, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, something you noticed he only does when he is really stressed. 

He glances at your two injured teammates and lets out a heavy sigh. “I am going to be honest with both of you; it is not looking good for us. I know that daylight is a mere two hours away at this point, but we have to keep in mind even when the storm is behind us, it is going to be near impossible to get everybody to the evac point if we have this creature to worry about. We will be sitting ducks out there in the open, and I think it knows that.” 

Rubbing his temples, trying to come up with a way somehow to carry Soap and Gaz through the thick snow, keep a constant lookout, and make it to the evac point in one piece, looking more and more impossible by the passing seconds.

 Ghost, who had remained silent pretty much this whole time, speaks up. “Well, then, we just need to kill the damn thing.” You turned and stared at him like he just grew three heads because if it was that simple, then surely whoever was here before all of you would have done it, especially since they figured out that fire could kill it. 

Unsurprisingly, in all the commotion, Soap had woken up; deciding that now would be a good time to share his thoughts, he spoke up, “I think that sorry bastard lives down there in that cellar. That is probably why it went berserk when we went down there in the first place. Maybe if we go down there and catch it by surprise, we can kill it once and for all.”

You finally register that Soap is talking about someone going back down into that thing's hideout and just hoping for the best while they try and light the stupid thing on fire. Looking around at the group, expecting Price, at the very least, to oppose the idea of sending someone to their death, but instead, you see him actively contemplating the idea. 

Throwing your hands up in the air in defeat, “Ah fuck it! What’s the plan? How would I even kill the fucker, once I am down there?”

“Well, Spark, I am glad to see you so willing to help, but don’t worry, it won’t be just you going down there. Ghost will be going, too.” 

Price grabs his backpack lying on the ground, rummaging around in it until he finds what he is looking for. He pulls out a small can of lighter fluid and tosses it at Ghost, who immediately catches it with ease. 

“Always carry that with me after my lighter ran out one time on a mission; I thought I was going through withdrawals without my cigars. It was not a fun time for me.” Price reaches his pocket and pulls out a lighter, sighing and handing it to Ghost as well. “Alright, when you both go down there, find the thing, cover him in lighter fluid, and light that son of a bitch up.” 

“Simple but an effective plan, Captain. I hope it works,” you mumble.

“Of course it will. Spark got my two best soldiers on the mission.” “HEY,” Soap yells, ignoring his outburst. Price continues, “While you and Ghost are down there, I will be up here watching after these two, making sure nothing happens, just in case.” 

Rolling your shoulders and popping your neck, you and Ghost remove your tactical vests to go down into the pit. Ghost then squats down and uses the materials Price gave to him to create some kind of Molotov-like device. Once complete, he stands back up and places it into a pocket on the side of his pants for safekeeping.

When he sees you staring at the contraption he put together, Ghost just simply grunts in reply, “Guerrilla warfare.”

While you both prepare yourselves for this risky mission, Soap speaks up, “Even though things went to shite down there earlier, I think we managed to learn where it stays, so just go straight out from the ladder when you get down there, keep going for about a click and then you should find it. Good luck, guys.” 

Listening to Soap’s advice, you both continue preparing, riding yourself off all the bulky padding of your uniform that might interfere with entering the small opening of the cellar door. Though you make sure to keep your knife and handgun strapped around your thigh, knowing that even if it won’t kill the wendigo, it could still be used to help subdue the creature. You unclip the tactical flashlights off your gun while Ghost grabs one of the hand-made torches from the broken chair. Once everything is secure, you both nod your heads in farewell towards Soap and Price and make your way back into the kitchen towards the creature's hideout.  

Entering the kitchen, you walk towards where the key sits on the floor after being thrown around the room in a panic when you were trying to save your teammates from the creature's clutches. Picking up the key, the cold metal feels heavy in your grasp. You walk to where Ghost is waiting for you next to the entrance to the cellar door, kneeling down you slide the key into the lock and pause, a million thoughts racing through your mind: what if once you turn the key and open the door, it is waiting for you and grabs you, what if the creature knows of your plan and is waiting for you and Ghost to go down into the cellar and then he attacks your injured teammates upstairs then goes back down to finish the job, what if- 

Ghost's voice breaks through your panicked thoughts, “It is going to be ok. We can do this.” Even though his face is covered by his mask, you see his eyes crinkle, indicating that he is smiling at you and trying to make you feel better about the whole situation. 

“Right.” you move the key, hearing the quiet click of it, unlocking the heavy cellar doors. You and Ghost both grab opposite sides of the door and, with a grunt, opening the door and leaving it to rest against the wall once again. Immediately, shining your flashlight down into the pit for any signs of the creature at the bottom. Not seeing anything, Ghost moves to squeeze through the narrow opening, the torch held carefully in one hand as he slowly made his way down. Once he is a few steps down, you follow suit, positioning yourself on the ladder, and slowly make your way through the opening, feeling claustrophobic as you descend into the cold, metallic darkness. 

The only thing that can be heard is the sound of the ladder groaning in protest at the added weight of people going down. The closer you got to the bottom, the more it felt like all the heat was leaving your body, the freezing air piercing your body, making all the hair on your body stand on end, putting you even more on edge. Ghost feet hitting the pavement of the cellar echo throughout the darkness; he steps over, giving you room to hop off the ladder. Stepping off the ladder, you remove the flashlight from where you held it in your mouth and unhook the handgun from the holster on your thigh. Holding the gun in front of you with one hand while supporting it with your other hand, holding the flashlight underneath, your arms outstretched in front of you, ready for whatever might be awaiting down here for you. 

Ghost was in a similar position; the strange contraption he made earlier could be seen in one of the many pockets on his pants. Silently, he motions for you to follow him, clicking off your flashlight using only the light from the torch as a guide and falling into step behind him. You snap into your mission mindset, not allowing for any other thoughts to distract you. Ghost kept walking straight out from the ladder as per Soap’s instruction. After you had been walking for about five minutes, a horrible smell filled your nostrils, like rotting flesh and blood. He moves the torch a little more forward around to try and find the source of the terrible stench; you see a trail of dried blood stained on the ground. Ghost slowly follows the trial. Gagging, you cover your nose at the sight of a huge pile of rotting animal carcasses, flies, maggots, and other insects swarming over the pile of viscera. 

Regaining your senses, you choked down the bile that rose in your throat and kept moving forward with Ghost, hoping to find the source of all this carnage. Amongst the sound of the swarming insects, you hear the sounds of flesh tearing and eating. Ghost jerked his head towards the source of the sound; the Wendigo was hunched over, ripping into the corpse of what used to be an elk. It was holding the creature in the air, using its razor-sharp teeth to tear into the dead animal's flesh, causing blood and who knows what else to go everywhere onto the floor. 

Slowly putting his handgun back into the holster on his hip but leaving it unbuttoned for easy access, he reaches into his pocket. Ghost retrieves the Molotov-like device carefully so as not to make any noise while the creature is distracted enjoying his breakfast. Keeping your gun aimed at the creature, Ghost rears his arm back and throws the Molotov. Time seems to move in slow motion as you watch it fly through the air; holding your breath, it hits the creature on its head, causing the can to burst, spewing the liquid all over it and setting fire to its body. 

The creature throws the elk corpse and begins screeching in pain, and the flames consume its body. It starts flailing its arms frantically, trying to put out the fire to no avail. Amongst its pain, it catches sight of you moving backward, lunging for you; it grabs ahold of you, knocking the gun and flashlight out of your hands and lifting you into the air. You scream for help. The flames from the creature are spreading, making its way towards you. Your arms are pinned to your sides because of the grasp the creature has on you; you’re unable to move them. Trying to use your legs to kick yourself free but it is no use. It is too strong; feeling the creature begin to use its strength to squeeze you, you let out another antagonizing scream, trying to look for Ghost but being unable to spot him; the only thing you can see is the Wendigo’s burning flesh. 

Fearing for the worst, ready to give up, the torch Ghost was carrying is stabbed into the Wendigo’s face right into its eye socket. The wendigo throws you down, screeching, bringing both hands to try and claw out the burning torch embedded in its face. Expecting to land on the hard, cold ground, you brace yourself for the impact only to land in the midst of the pile of rotting flesh, effectively breaking your fall but also covering you in the entrails of the dead animals. You can feel the blood seep into your clothes, sticking to your skin, trying to climb your way out of the pile of gore. A hand emerges from the darkness, pulling you to your feet. “Let’s go now!” Ghost yells at you over the horrible sounds the Wendigo is making. Wiping the blood from your eyes the best you could, you see Ghost pick up your flashlight and gun; you don’t think you have ever been so happy to see him in your life. 

You both run back towards the ladder, not wanting to spend any longer down here with the burning Wendigo than needed. Once you reach the ladder, Ghost pushes you to go first; climbing up the ladder as fast as you can was made a little difficult due to the blood covering you from head to toe, causing you to slip every once in a while, though Ghost was there to catch you every step of the way. Finally, you reach the opening, letting out a breath of relief. You squeeze back out of the cellar door, moving to help pull Ghost out, grabbing under his armpit and dragging him out. Once you were both out of the hellhole, you grab the door and slam it shut, locking the door for the final time and falling back onto the floor. Ghost was sprawled out beside you, breathing heavily. 

Being back upstairs, you see the sunlight peeking in from outside through the busted windows and cracks in the house; you feel the pain, fear, and anxiety leave your body at the sight you all made it to morning. After catching your breath, Ghost stands up and extends his arm out to help you up, “damn, Spark. You should just probably plan on burning your clothes.” 

Looking down at your outfits, covered in blood and god knows what else, you laugh, “yea, I think that is for the best. Thank you for saving me.” you reply, looking back into Ghost eyes that have a fondness in them. Instead of replying, he just jerks his head towards the living room, where the others are waiting. 

Slowly trudging back into the room, hearing the others converse quietly amongst themselves, realizing that you can hear Laswell's voices, knowing that means they were able to get into contact with her while you and Ghost were down in the cellar. Once you step into the room, all eyes snap towards your form, and all conversations stop. “Bloody hell, what happened to you!?” exclaimed Gaz, his eyes wide looking at your bloody form. 

Shrugging your shoulder, grinning wildly, you reply, “Oh, nothing much. Just killing a fucking Wendigo!” 

Gaz and Soap cheer in response while you hear Price chuckling. Walking back to where you left your tactical vest and other gear, you begin to put them back on and where they go amongst your armor, seeing Ghost do the same out of the corner of your eye. 

Price, who was holding the radio, shakes it in the air, “Well, I am glad you are both back up here safe. While you were both down there, we were able to get through to Laswell, and Nikolai was on his way to pick us up. The rendezvous point is about half a mile from here, so if we leave now, we will be able to make it in time.”Price is now standing in front of you and Ghost, hands on his hips, staring at you both like a proud dad. 

Gaz slowly moves to sit up, his left hand holding onto his stomach where the stitches are, trying to be as careful as possible not to pop any of them. “Thank God! I can’t wait till this is all a horrible nightmare.” 

Nodding in agreement, you help Ghost pack up all the equipment quickly, putting the sleeping mats, blankets, and small pillows back in their appropriate bags. Looking around at how quickly you all managed to get everything packed up and ready to go, you think this might honestly be a new personal best for your team. Picking up and handing everyone their prospective weapons, you move to help Gaz walk, but before you can wrap your arms around him, he stops you, “Um...Spark. No offense, but you really stink. I think it would be best if you just let Price help me.” 

Price, who had already had one arm wrapped around Gaz’s middle, handed you the radio, “Here, you can be in charge of this and keep watch then until we get back to base and can hose you down.” 

Grabbing the radio from Price, you nod your head in agreement, smiling at them both, “Haha, fair enough.” 

Ghost has Soap in the fireman’s carry, much to Soap’s dismay; laughing as you make your way to the front door, leading the way for everyone, you call out over your shoulder, “Isn’t he too heavy to hold like that Ghost?” 

“No” 

You all make your way out of the dilapidated house and out into the forest; looking down into the bright snow on the ground, you pause in your steps, kneeling down and collecting a handful of snow and rubbing it over your face to try and clean some of the blood off. Standing back up, you step over the now blood-red snow. After walking in silence most of the way, you hear the familiar sound of Nikolai’s helicopter blades; stepping into the clearing, you see him waiting, leaning up against the helicopter, smoking a cigarette. 

“Finally, I was beginning to think I would have to leave your asses here.” He states, and he pushes himself off the helicopter, walking towards Price, shaking each other's hands while Nikolia claps him on the back in familiarity. Ghost slides Soap off his shoulder and onto the closest seat in the helicopter; Soap's face is pale, and he looks a little motion sickness from the long trek here. 

Nikolia walks back up to the front of the helicopter and opens the door, moving into the pilot sea,t waiting for everyone to get situated before taking off. Price helps Gaz step up into a seat, carefully buckling him in the seat and placing a pair of headphones over his ears. Seeing everyone else has found a seat, you grab ahold of the bar to pull yourself inside when a noise from behind you makes you pause; turning around, you glance at your surroundings; not seeing anything, you shrug your shoulders and continue climbing on board. Horrific screeching makes your blood run cold, whipping around, you see the badly burned Wendigo running awkwardly towards you, a terrifying look in its yellow eyes. 

Screaming, you fall back onto the floor of the helicopter, everyone yelling different things. Ghost beings shooting at the creature, trying to hit its legs to stop its ascent upon you all, but all it does is cause it to stumble and beings clawing its way forward. Frozen in fear, all you could think about was how close you all were to escaping from the Wendigo, when the front door of the helicopter opened. Nikolai throws a Molotov at the Wendigo, effectively killing it, its burning body collapsing onto the snowy ground, the screeching stopping. 

Sitting back in his seat, Nikolai mutters under his breath, “I fucking hate Wendigos, they are such a pain.” 

Still in shock at what just happened, everyone silently moves back into their seats, buckles in, and places the headphones over their ears as Ghost shuts the door and Nikolai takes off. 

Leaning back in your seat, you look around at all your teammates' faces. You are just glad that everyone is still alive, with just some minor injuries, after everything that you all just went through. Smiling wickedly, you let out a cackle, causing everyone to turn and look at you. “Well, So Much for a Safe House, huh.” 

----------

Bonus: 

Laswell stands at the front of the hospital room, looking angry and awaiting an explanation from someone, anyone. Soap, you, and Gaz all lay in beds in front of her, listening to the constant beeping of the machines you are all hooked up to. Soap ended up having to have surgery on his ankle to fix the damage done to the bones. He had to have several screws and plates placed in his ankle, which now is wrapped in a cast, propped up on a mountain of pillows. Luckily, Gaz did not have to have any surgery, though they did redo his stitches across his chest, and they properly cleaned his wounds before rewrapping them in gauze. Though they did find out that he did have a minor concussion, which makes you a little nervous since he did take quite a few naps between getting the concussion and now, but the doctors say he will be just fine. It turns out you had gotten pretty injured, too, from your scuffle with the creature in the cellar. Both your arms had suspicious-looking bruises, and your ribs ended up being broken and close to puncturing your lungs. The doctors were shocked that you were even still standing in the state you were in. They fixed the damage the best they could with surgery and now have you under strict rules about moving too much, not that you could anyway, with the amount of bandages they have you wrapped in and machines hooked up to you.

Price and Ghost, although they were not hurt, were still in the room as well, coming to visit you all at least once throughout the day. They were sitting in hospital chairs next to your beds, looking anywhere but Laswell, who now stands with her arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“So, you all mean to tell me. You don’t know what happened to cause three of you to end up in the hospital with varying injuries.” 

Price looks at Laswell and leans back in his chair, “You wouldn’t believe us if we told you.” 

[mrsparrasblog]

Imagine

Four weird but kinda handsome guys slide in your DM's

Maybe they had a bet who would be able to pull you.

Ghost is being ghosted

Kyle can't stop telling that you said he is hot - that's a win in his books.

Soap is delulu and thinks he won.

Price actualy won but everyone accused him of cheating.

[beloveds-embrace]

Expiration date au where you, a failed experiment, have been implanted with a chip that will eventually kill you so you escape captivity to spend what time you have left experiencing the life that was denied of you (books were your only solace in imprisonment. The lovely little books with sweet wives and loving husbands and wouldn’t it be just so lovely to be protected for once?) and that includes tracking down Kate Laswell to tell her everything so you can at least see the downfall of your abusers.

Kate Laswell, who listens to you and takes one, good long look at you and decides to help you experience life by placing you in the midst of task force 141 as their wife- as someone soft and sweet and yet strong enough to help them settle back down when they return from mission.

Who don’t know about your expiration date.

[pricesprincess]

from this ask

price's eyebrows immediately go up and he gets a small smirk and wraps his arm around your waist when you call him your husband as you explain to people the things he does for you and how good of a man he is and how lucky you are to have him in your life, what a great husband indeed he is. he opens all your doors. helps take your shoes off. buys you your favorite things. surprises you with gifts.

kyle would stop mid whatever it was he was doing which was thankfully just walking around the store when you called him that as you asked a general question with husband tacked in on the end, his face feels all warm as he teases you about it and starts looking for rings the next day to propose soon because he couldn't think of a better way to spend the rest of his life hearing you call him that.

soap literally is all smiles the moment you call him that when you were talking to someone on the phone, he ends up calling you his wife from now on and he can't stop talking about it either and makes sure to get engraved rings as well. is blushing too when he gushes about you to everyone else in the task force and anyone who will listen, he is very excited because he loves you!

simon already thinks you both are married anyway so when you called him husband as you welcomed him home that only confirmed that it was okay for him to finally pull that velvet box out from his dresser a few days later doing it in a private setting away from prying eyes because he has plans afterward you can't do in public.

[ghostlyangels1204]

Needy 141 has my heart... CW: tooth-rotting fluff (I'm feeling self-indulgent.) Romance, mostly SFW, but Johnny is a menace...

☽ Price His face nestles into the crook of your neck, feather-light kisses peppered on your skin as he gently sways you both. A mock dance in the morning sun. His morning coffee left to go cold, opting to lay all his attention on you instead. Hands gripping- close to clawing- at your hips, deep chuckles reverberating on your skin as he feels you wiggle in his hold. He tugs gently at your clothes, hands roaming all over your exposed skin. "Someone's friendly this mornin'...", you muse. His lips settled on the top of your head; rough, calloused fingers weaving through your hair as he breathes in your scent. "Dunno what you're on about, love...",

☽ Simon The sun rose particularly bright this morning, the light breaking through the blinds of your shared bedroom. Your little haven. As you attempt to move from the almost-blinding light, you're fixed in place. A pathetic second attempt makes your head turn over, only to spot Simon. The man is deep in sleep, an odd calm washed over his face... and two huge thighs wrapped around you- effectively fusing you in place. Like the beast he is, no wriggling or poking does anything to stir him enough into releasing his iron-like grip on you. "Siiiiii...", "Mhm?", "Can you move, I need the bathroom..." His eyes parted ever so slightly, before quickly closing them again. "Go later... 'mm comfy'..."

☽ Kyle He had been listening to your day debrief for the last 20 minutes. From the woman who tried to take the last block of cheese in the shops today, to the fluffy stray cat you saw whilst on your morning walk. Every little detail of your day was laid out for him. The pair of you do this every night, talk. Sometimes about absolutely nothing. Trivial things that make him feel more like a civilian than he normally does. In the middle of your complaining about your broken umbrella, he tugs you into his arms. The limbs coming to circle around your midsection, holding you under his chin. A soft kiss planted on the crown of your head, as he tucks you in closer to his bare chest. The warmth radiating off him, like an extra blanket. "Was my umbrella boring you,?", "Not at all love... tell me more..."

☽ Johnny He's a menace. There's no doubt in your mind. The man couldn't go more than a few minutes without invading your space. You could be sitting on the sofa, peacefully reading or watching something before he comes up to you- occasionally, and quite literally, sitting himself down on your lap. "I'm gonna hop in the shower really quick, we need to leave in 45 minutes, okay!" But, of course, instead of getting ready like you had told him to so the pair of you could leave on time, Johnny had resorted to, quite literally, scratching at the door so he could shower with you. Ignoring his "ach' Bonnie pleaseeeeee!" and, "CMON' WOMAN!", you attempt to shower in peace. Only to hear him prying at the lock, before swinging the door open. The shower curtain flies open, with him now in front of you proclaiming, "HERE'S JOHNNY!" A normal shower could never be had with Johnny, because he forgot to take his clothes off before pushing you against the shower wall...

Masterlist

[the-faceless-bride]

141 Neighbors imagine

The boys have been in a relationship for a long time. They've all taken a small break from the feiled after Johnny almost dying... they have been staying in a small and sweet place, a nice flat for them to share.

And while not out on the feiled, they still worked overtime. And weren't home often; and when they were, they always just got some takeaway and loved each other before going to work the next morning.

You had noticed this; You had lived in the flat adjacent to the four hunks. You lived alone in your cute, comfy flat with your cat "Binks,".

You didn't like that they lived off cheap takeaway and three hours of sleep at most. So you decided to be a kind neighbor and give them a good home cooked meal. You made extra for dinner that night, packaging the warm meal and leaving it at their door with a small and short note.

John slowly walks to the door after hearing the soft 'tap tap tap' outside his door. His hand rested on the gun on his hip in case things went south after opening the door.

But nobody was there, he looked down and saw a small basket and a note. "W'as tha?" Johnny asked, coming up behind his former captian; picking up the small basket and bringing it into his lovers home.

"Trying to be a friendly neighbor, I noticed all the takeaway, and I thought you'd all enjoy a nice meal," a short note and nothing more. John didn't trust it, showing it to Simon and Kyle, and Simon agreed. It was too suspicious, Kyle wanted to think maybe their was a kind soul, but knowing their line of work, he wasn't sure.

"I don' kno 'bout ye, but I t'ink this 's delicious." The three men looking to their other lover and to their shock and horror he was munching away on the mysterious meal. "JOHNNY," Simon yelled in disappointment and fear, "well, how are you feeling?" Kyle asked, unsure if this was 100% safe.

"Feel great," the Scott says before taking another spoon full. Kyle shrugs, and they all settle into a comfortable silence as they eat the dinner from their friendly neighbor.

This becomes a normal occurrence. They hear a rapping on their door, and when they open the door, there is a meal waiting, but nobody there.

They didn't know who their friendly neighbor was, but they were thankful for the warm meals. However, one day Johnny came home after a last-minute grocery run and spots you.

Placing the basket on their door quickly knocking before rushing to your door and shushing your fluffy cat as it meows at your feet. Johnny found you cute, and he knew his lovers would love to know you too.

Sorry for the poorly written and rushed little imagine, I'm very tired and I just wanted to write this down before I forgot about it. Maybe make this a real fic later, it'll be written way better I promise.

[nwjn-z]

𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐏*𝐫𝐧 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬

warning(s): nsfw, swearing, straight up p*rn

author’s note: i was going through my bookmarks and thought of this, they are aged up to be in their 20s don’t be weird

⭑ kyle broflovski

is such a love maker but can also be so rough. absolutely loves using your clothes as leverage to fuck you. has ripped multiple skirts, panties, and dresses before bc he doesn’t realise his own strength when he is pulling on them bc he gets so lost in how good your pussy feels. he’s addicted. (it’s okay bc he bought you new ones to say sorry)

⭑ stan marsh

love love loves lazy but still rough sex. he loves laying back and watching you bounce yourself on his dick while pulling your hair and slapping your ass. music in the back is a must when yall are fucking. loves praising you.

⭑ kenny mccormick

loves hitting it from the back. he’s a certified freak but sometimes he likes to really enjoy simple sex yk? but what he loves most is when you rock yourself back on him and use his cock to get yourself off. he thinks it’s the hottest shit ever seeing you eagerly fuck your self with his dick.

⭑ eric cartman

rough. hard. and fast. would best describe sex with eric. one thing him and kyle have in common is being the roughest guys in bed. he literally fucks you into the mattress. loves pushing down on your waist and drilling himself in you.

[otto-s-alskling]

TF141 X Hardworker!Reader

"Their Sleepyhead"

You're a hard worker, everyone knows that. God, even Price had to carry you a few times to bring you to bed (and not in *that* way, get your mind out the gutter!) But your insistent attitude of working till you collapse is a trait that the 141 is aware that will never go away, not when they've seen you do it for over three years.

Price

You have your office close to his, connected with an adjoining door which was lucky because you bought your own coffee machine. Majority of the time, you're brewing him a fresh cup of coffee, black with a hint of sugar to cut the full bitterness.

He loves listening to you shuffling and singing next door, sometimes singing back to your songs when duets are playing from your phone but he'd be damn and hide in a hole before he'd let you know that he sings along to you and your velvety voice with his gruff one.

But this also includes him actually hearing you when your head finally thuds down on the desk when you refused to stop working from 5AM till wee hours of the night. He'd peek through the adjoining door first before sighing and picking you up, cradling you close before carrying you out the offices, ignoring looks from the other soldiers still awake late at night. Gaz would immediately walk up to help, opening the doors for Price so he can tuck you into bed, removing your boots before turning off the lamp light. He'd sneak a forehead kiss before closing the door and walking back to the offices, ignoring his racing heartbeat.

Soap

Our Scot is a freaking sweetheart (this is the hill I'll die on.) If he knows Cap isn't in office or in a mission or conference somewhere, you bet your ass he'd delegate himself into keeping company, literally. He'd play on his phone in your office couch, nothing too loud but just enough to be there.

Talks will be nonstop and he'd teach you some Scottish slangs too, much to a certain Skull masked teammate. He'd even teach you traditions and if he had the time and the energy, he'd do your hair into some Scottish Braids. (Look em up, they're GORGEOUS.)

He'd pause from time to time, get a snack or something and he'd come back with something for you too! And if you fell asleep, you bet he'd transfer you over to the couch and find your emergency blanket and tuck you in.

He'd brush your hair out of your face and plant a kiss on your cheek before sitting on the floor next to the couch, just playing on his phone till he fall asleep himself or if he gets hungry and get another snack. He'd wait till you wake up, and not even Ghost can drag him out the room. Someone had to guard the team's Bonnie after all.

Gaz

If you think he wouldn't help out with the paperwork, you'd be fucking wrong. Being the youngest meant you two are the closest, age wise anyways. Would pause halfway on working to show you something in TikTok or play some random playlist on YouTube or Spotify just to break the silence in the room.

He'd being his own snacks, which also includes a big bar of Cadbury. Sometimes Lindt if he got to visit in the nearby city. Work goes faster so he always try to help out on hell week so you wouldn't handle the full brunt of the workload.

If you fall asleep, he'd switch the music to a lullaby or a soft classical music, keeping you asleep as long as he can anyways. Like Soap, he'd transfer you to the couch but he'd push an armchair flush against the couch to block you in from falling like a pseudo bed (or fort or crib. Do people still do this?)

Tucks you in gently and continues his half of the paperwork before joining you on the couch and cuddling you to sleep. He's not one to pass up in getting to sleep in your arms after all.

Ghost

This man trusts with his life. (He'd never say it out loud.) He wasn't really warm with the idea of having a support member in the team, especially one who's specialty ranges from medic to sniper to assistant. Like how is that even possible? So when he realized that you're one of the most hardworking person he'd ever met, respect was earned... And affection.

It was around halfway the second year when he showed his face to you, the heat surge in the office making it annoying to have the mask. He didn't make a fuss so you didn't as well, just working along with him and Price in the Captain's office and hope to survive the heatwave enough. Door was locked so he was confident enough to do it even if Price did raise an eyebrow for a moment before shrugging it off.

By the third year, he already made it a habit to remove his mask once he got you to your room, finally dragging you to bed even before you fall asleep on the desk. You'd grumble and complain but when he glares you down, you relent anyways, not like you can fight him back easily when he's the largest amongst your teammates. So against your unnecessary complaints, he'd spoon you till you fall asleep, much thanks for your exhausted body and mind. Once asleep, he'd sneak a nap for an hour or two himself before letting you be, heading back to his own room, but not after sneaking a kiss to the hair and hand. For him, you're his hardworking lovie, not that he'd let it slip out to everyone else.

[meowpupp]

TW//: hardest smut I've written (I think), cnc, gangbang, punishment, body writing, extreme degradation, overstim, anal, oral(m&f receiving), implied poly relationship, bad editing.

thinking abt captain price who brings his puppygirl to work. you've been naughty, a desperate mess for his cock. humping his boots, pawing at his cock, grinding your dripping cunt on whatever you can find. he's tired of it.

price ties you up, handcuffing you to the coffee table in his office. he strips you down, leaving your soft body exposed to whoever walks in. he even turns the ac up, smirking the way your nipples pebble, thighs shaking as you whine.

and to make it worse, he writes on your body. filthy words that make you squirm and leak. 'slut', 'whore', 'breeding bitch', 'cocksleeve', 'fucktoy'. he even goes as far to write a bold 'BREED ME' adding an arrowing pointing directly to your pretty cunt.

he's so mean, ignoring your desperate little cries and pleas for mercy. even as johnny holds you down, shoving his cock deep down your throat, he ignores you. he has no qualms finishing his paperwork while the sargent stains your pretty face with cum.

he lets all his soldiers use you. ghost stuffs your little cunt. it practically feels like hes ripping your little body apart. hands spreading your thighs as wide as they'll go, pawing the fat there as he spits a large, fat, ball of saliva on your clit. he laughs as you twitch, slapping your tits as you cum around his thick cock.

even gaz doesn't spare you mercy. he adds to prices writing, for such a pretty man his mind is filth. 'cum dump', 'dumb slut', 'free use'. he crosses out the 'BREED ME', instead writing 'useless'.

uses the left over slick and cum from ghost, pushing into your tight, inexperienced ass. big hands hold you down as he kisses up your spine. he doesn't care if it 'hurts', or if he's 'too big.' there's an arrow pointing to your ass, clearly saying 'USE ME.' he's never disobeyed an order from price, why would he now?

it's even worse when all three take you at once. ghost and soap fighting for room in your cunt. the two men are impatient, shoving their cocks deep inside your poor, overstimulated, cunt even as you cry.

gaz is no help, wiping your tears away as he forces his load down your throat, holding you still until you swallow everydrop. he squeezes his dick through your throat, milking every drop.

it's only when you're all fucked out, every hole stuffed with cum, that price has mercy. he lays you out on his desk, hands still cuffed, and cleans out your pretty cunt. licking fat stripes to your clit, fingering all the cum shoved into your pretty, used, cunt.

"shhhh, sweetheart. I know. but you wanted this, remember? this is what happens to needy puppies like you. they get held down and fucked like the little toys they are."

[diejager]

I need one of the boys to drunkenly confess to the reader

Cw: getting shitfaced, drinking, alcohol, drunken confession, tell me if I missed any.

“I love you, darling,” he mumbled, his pretty Cupid bow curved into a pout, “You- hic! You know tha-t right?” 

You don’t know how it got to this, his words slurred and voice whiny, his pretty brown eyes dilated so wide that you would have thought he was crying if you didn’t smell the lingering taste of alcohol on his breath. It was supposed to be a short celebratory drink between colleagues before he was dropped home, curling into your arms and smothering you in peppering kisses, but it seemed like he threw away such caution out of the window and went wild with drinks, tequila perhaps. Your pretty boy was shitfaced. 

He slumped into you, leaning his entire weight on you when he crossed the threshold of your home, dragging his feet and mumbling sobbing confessions until the tip of his shoes kicked the curb and his knees gave up. You huffed with a slight strain, supporting him while you waved at Price, wishing him a safe drive after declining his help. All to save Kyle’s dignity after he spent hours whining and singing praises about you to his mates, gushing his deep and unconditional love for the spouse he had waiting at home. 

“I love you,” he moaned, nuzzling your skin, his nose brushing the bruised skin between your neck and shoulder, where he’d covered it with spotted kisses just last night, “Love you s-so much.”

You chuckled airily, shoulder shaking at his small confessions. Dragging him into the flat, his feet unsteadily moving behind him as he tried to walk, failing over and over again despite his persistence in walking beside you and smothering you in love. You found it endearing, his drunken confessions and sloppy kisses on your skin, his wandering hands trying to grasp at you on his shaky feet.

“I know, Kyle,” you smiled against his cheek, kissing the corner of his lips when you rounded the corner of the hall, “We’re married.”

Stumbling into bed, Kyle blinked blearily, staring down at you with an awed gleam. You could see stars dancing in his chocolate hues, wide and starry in such an knee-weakening adoration that made you fall further in love with the man you married months ago. You laughed at him, pushing him to the side and straddling his hips in a soft motion, easily switching your position with a man who was drunk out of his mind to forget you were married. 

“Yeah,” cradling his face between your face, you pressed your lips to his, a soft and tender kiss that made both of you sigh in contentment, “Yeah, we are.”

“My spouse,” he mumbled sleepily, his left hand rising to touch your face, his rough pads gently fluttering over your skin, “My beautiful spouse.”

Your diamond-tipped ring gleamed in moonlight, a brilliant beacon of your devotion to each other, a reminder of your shared vows. Where you go, I will go, and where you stay, I will stay; Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates you and me.(1)

1: quote from Where You Go(I Will Go) by alittlepunkcock 

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

[bubbless-s]

Can we please get Kyle & Kenny general dating headcanons☹️🙏

↳ ❝ [Kyle and Kenny dating headcanons] ¡! ❞

- ʚɞ genre: fluff

- ʚɞ warnings: slightly suggestive

-ʚɞ a/n: aged up characters (highschool)

Masterlist

Kyle

★ He’s so dorky bye. But you know what they say a jew in the streets, a freak in the sheets.

★ Kyle also yaps a lot.

★ You have him saved as “Kyle 🤓👆”

★ Jokes aside he loves you so much.

★ Does the ‘fuckboy’ face to make you laugh. Its an inside joke now.

★ Probably found a shitty tiktok routine for his curles and makes you do it.

★ Gets so red in the sun. You have to remind him that he needs to put on sunscreen often. Its also easy to depict when he didn’t put on sunscreen because something smells burnt.

★ If you can’t cook Kyle would roast the hell out of your „roast“ chicken.

★ Kyle has diabetes so he sadly gets sick more often. Although he greedily enjoys being looked after, also Kyle would absolutely pretend to still be sick even if he is very well. Just a little white lie to keep your attention on him.

★ Back hugs, back kisses you name it. Kyle also has long fingers so..🥰 this is so random Im sorry

★Usually he prefers to be the big spoon but when Kyle is very stressed or not in a good mood he NEEDS to be held by you tightly.

★ Oh and he would also complain that you’re not holding him tight enough.

Kenny

♡ Kenny basically lives at your place.

♡ Very handsy. If you ask him about it he’ll say he just likes feeling you under his fingers 🤨

♡ Kennys got no feeling of shame he can and will kiss you anytime. If you’re uncomfortable he will drag you to a non crowded place and kiss you there. You can’t win either way

♡ You know that sound “do you wanna make out?” “no” “*sobbing* me neither i wanna go to sleep *agressive snoring*” thats him and you in a nutshell

♡ Slaps your ass. Idk I feel like thats such a Kenny thing to do.

♡ Gets you flowers. (From where? From the graveyard from the last time he has been there. Get it?)

♡ Has a weird quirk of rubbing his cheek against yours.

♡ If you bend down he will be respectfully looking.

♡ Tried to order you a plush once, a cute teddy bear but the thing that came was pretty deformed. Thats his pfp now in all his socials.

♡ Kenny is a bully in bed.💔

♡ Cuddling will be done nakey. No questions asked.

♡ Overall Kenny loves you so much he might get heart eyes while looking at you.

[mrsparrasblog]

Change my mind

You can't.

Price definitely has a bratty daughter at home. But it's not like he doesn't love you or that you get punished by him—that's something his ex-wife does. No, you are, and I'm 100% sure, his favorite little girl, and you can't do any wrong. He literally spoils you rotten because he feels so guilty about his military lifestyle.

You want a vacation in Paris? Of course, honey.

The Lady Dior bag? Say no more. Daddy's got it.

You have a boyfriend? Oh, bad mistake to tell him. Expect the most intense background check from Aunt Laswell ever, and Uncle Ghost scaring that bastard for fun. And Price actually shows him his weapon collection and invites him for a weekend at his hut. :)

No wonder the bratty daughter stays single until you turn 22. Price always forbids you from meeting Gaz and Soap since you're close in age, and he knows you're beautiful and every man follows you like a lost duckling. Well, what a surprise when you tell your dad you finally met a good match for you. "Dad, he is in the SAS too and a reliable man."

Just imagine the surprise when you introduce him to your parents and Uncle Ghost (since he is always there when you meet a new boyfriend), and it's Kyle Garrick.

"Gaz, what are you doing here?"

"Captain Price?"

[beloveds-embrace]

The Sandman clip/ tiktok audio of "you came" "you called" just screams ex boyfriend/husband TF141 when you call them late at night because some creep is following you home or you're in trouble

WAIT YES YOU ARE RIGHT

It’s almost an instinct to call him first before anyone else, even after breaking up/divorcing. You tell yourself you can’t be blamed- he is a military man and despite all the hurdles that left your relationship in shambles, he was dependable when it came to safety.

And right now, walking slowly to your home with a fan following you- that man had to be kicked out of your workplace, you can remember him- you need his safety.

Something in your heart twinges when he accepts your call on the first ring. Some things truly never change, do they?

“He- hey,” you whisper immediately, and now that someone is here to hear you, the fearful tears build up in your eyes and you are sure he can hear the shakiness in your voice. You don’t give him a chance to say anything for now, though. “I- I know that we- we are not together anymore but… god, I’m so sorry, someone is following me and I didn’t know who else to call, I’m so sorry-”

“Where are you?”

You tell him where you are right now, steps carefully slow but not too slow so your stalker doesn’t know that you are aware of him.

“Stay on the phone for me, yeah?”

“Okay,” you are still whispering, gulping. “Okay. Thank you. I’m so sorry again-“

“Stop apologizing.” His voice is softer now, compared to before. “I don’t mind. Never will. I’ll be right with you in a minute, alright?”

And true to his words, he does come to you soon, throwing his arm over your shoulder and glaring right at your stalker. You can’t see his face, but you know his glare has always made him look so scary. But once the stalker is gone, and you two are left alone while he leads you home, you can’t help but break the silence.

“…you came.”

He looks at you, the glare softening immediately. So many things unsaid, so much that had gone wrong and right in your relationship…

“You called.” Is all he says in reply, still holding you right against him.

No other words are needed at this moment. Though your heart, traitorous thing it is, wonders if it’s not too late to try again. Your mind vehemently disagrees and states he likely holds no feelings for you anymore.

His arm remains wrapped around you and he even covers you in his jacket.

…perhaps it doesn’t have to end this way.

[pricesprincess]

you hadn't had time to text kyle and let him know you're watching your brother's kids.

they kept you busy running amuck around the house, their giggles and little feet slapping against the floor made your heart ache.

you had wanted kids since you could remember.

it was always a dream of yours to see a little one that was part you and your lover, a physical manifestation of your bond with them.

none of your past boyfriends wanted to be tied down to that type of commitment so you tucked it away putting it up high on the shelf.

watching your nieces and nephews play with toys in the living room distracted you enough not to hear the front door open and the footsteps that stopped at the entryway.

"love?"

four heads snapped up at their uncle kyle's voice and shot up from the carpet to run over to him screaming his name, seems like he's everyone's favorite and you didn't blame them.

hes your favorite too.

"they've been running me ragged baby, sorry i didn't get a chance to text."

kyle waved your apology off with a warm smile that made your stomach clench and toes curl.

you couldn't help but watch him with four little ones hanging off of him pretending to be an airplane complete with the noises as well.

he kept them off your back as you made dinner making sure to run around the backyard as you kept an eye on them through the window.

a flutter rippled through your womb when he scooped up the youngest bringing her inside to tend to her scraped knee.

"i'm a magician, in three seconds your knee will feel better." kyle assured her with a soft voice as he crouched in front of her and blew on the scrape causing her to gasp then smile wide.

she wrapped little arms around his neck hugging him tightly thanking him.

later that evening after your brother picked them up begging for you to watch them again tomorrow you and kyle settled on the couch.

"we should have a babe, you'd make a wonderful mum, the best." without knowing your deepest secret he breathed life into it.

and an hour later he was pumping load after load in you.

comments and relogs with tags are really appreciated <3

[cherie-doll]

Cherie luveeee. Wish you good and healthy, beautiful.

I got someting.

You know those retired dog officers that have been trained for jungkies and bombs?? We adopt them while cod characters are away for deployments, because we're lonely and literal scary dog privileges hehe.

And when they're home, our dog gets alert and quite relentless by the smells until we pay the good officer jerky and 2 ice cubes.

It's messy, but hope you understand what I mean.

Dw i see your vision and tried to execute it

⪩⪨ price, ghost, soap, gaz, roach, alejandro, rudy, phillip graves, makarov, keegan, könig, horangi, nikto

No cuz imagine missing that security, yearning for those big strong muscle arms wrapping around you and engulfing your body in theirs >.<

BuT, you’re alone at home, that emptiness roaming the halls and dark rooms as the orange glow of the afternoon sun seeps through the blinds and the most awful melancholy hits you. You grab your keys and go out for a drive not being able to stand the loneliness anymore.

You’re driving around downtown and spot a shelter, you saw a poster on the glass display for cats. Only to walk in and be told that they’ve all been adopted, you’re ready to walk out until a yelp can be heard from one of the kennels and see a German shepherd watching you with his big brown eyes, head laying on his paws. Your heart squeezes and it’s as if you’re made for one another. Without another thought you ask for it and after a few moments you’re walking out with your new companion.

You spend the next couple of weeks bonding with the dog, taking him out on walks and sleeping peacefully on your bed despite your military bf/husband gone because you know the canine sleeping on the bedroom floor will protect you. You even go out a little more often than you would when they're on deployment because you've got your guard dog scaring away those with wrong intentions but is secretly a sweetheart within.

And it isn't until your partner comes back, late at night, that your dog raises his head, ears attentive and listening to the footsteps of heavy boots probably leaving dirt all over the clean entrance hallway and making their way up the stairs to the bedroom. He can sense a strange new smell, much stronger than your subtle scent. The overpowering new scent awakens his instincts and he's at the door in an instant growling and waking you up.

Much to the confusion and frustration of the dog, you're not as wary as you should be. You freely open the door and welcome the soldier who's been away for too long into your arms.

Price would be too engulfed in your embrace to notice the dog growling lowly at him. It would only be when he leans down to put away his shoes and place the duffle bag slung over his shoulder that he'd come face to face with the dog's snout sniffing him over. He'd ask where you got it from and once the dog realized there is no threat they'd get used to each other quickly.

Simon wouldn't appreciate the hair the dog has left on the side of the bed that's usually his. But he commends you for being smart and getting a dog, and not just any fluffy golden retriever, no you got a dog breed he can trust will use the best of their instincts to take care of you. He'll be at ease knowing he's not leaving you alone anymore.

Johnny would have a close call getting bitten by the doggo. Maybe warn him, yeah? But he's all over the dog, petting it, asking what's his name. And he most likely wouldn't get much sleep despite arriving late home. The dog is all excited about a new person in the house and be all over him.

Kyle tries his darn best to earn that dog's trust and convince them he's not a threat. It's not that the dog smells bad intentions from him, he just doesn't like the proximity between the both of you. Noses in between you both while you're giving Kyle a kiss on the lips. After a few treats, he got the dog to calm down and sit at the far end of the room, keeping an eye just in case lol.

Gary loves dogs and tbh he thinks this was a surprise you had planned for him. The dog can't even do his regular routine of sniffing the person because Gary is hugging him, petting and scratching behind the dog's ears. The dog loves the attention though and quickly warms up to him.

Alejandro would get a good scare at this big dog standing in the doorway watching him. Would curse loud enough his mother could surely hear from her grave and rise to throw a chancla at him. He's tired, has had a long drive and in his usual good mood would dote on the dog but not when he's on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion. Doesn't even say anything much after that and just grabs you, collapses into bed with you in his arms and falls asleep.

Rudy's first thought is that a stray dog got in and would be concerned for your safety but then sees the collar around the dog's neck and know right away he's part of the family now. And no matter how tired he is, Rudy would still sit there and with the dog resting on his lap, would ask you how you got him, where, what's his name, how you've been feeling after adopting him, etc.

Phillip doesn't pay mind to the dog, even if its growling at him and even baring teeth. Plenty of people do that to him at work, he's used to it. Man has two things in his mind since pulling into the driveway; you and rest. He takes a quick shower, doesn't even bother putting actual clothes on and just falling asleep in a towel wrapped around his waist. The dog just standing next to the bed at Phillip's side, smelling his face curiously.

Makarov isn't surprised to be greeted by dogs at the door because he's probably already owned a few big dogs but they're usually kept outside. Kicks his shoes off, which distract the snarling dog who goes after his shoes only seeing a new toy. He goes right over and starts getting ready to sleep until he turns to face your side confused to see the dog in between the both of you with his shoe in his mouth.

Keegan couldn't care less, he has no thoughts at the moment. His eyes barely register the dog who won't stop thrusting his nose into his face when he leans down to pull off his boots and socks. He just grumbles something and pushes the dog away who follows after him. He kisses you goodnight or hello, he doesn't know anymore, gives the dog a pat on the head and drifts off to sleep.

König the type to just stand there staring at the dog who stares right back at him. Surely, with how sleep deprived he is he must think it's an hallucination or maybe he's asleep and already dreaming. Reaches out, letting the dog sniff his hand and when he feels the warm breath from the dog's nostrils tickle his hand he simply nods approvingly. He'll make friends with the dog tomorrow.

Horangi would probably set off all of the dog's danger sensors because of his nature of doing things. Like he gets home, slams the door shut, his heavy footsteps making their way to you, throwing his duffle bag on the floor and tackling you (lovingly ofc duh) would make the dog think you're getting attacked.

Nikto would start asking you all sorts of question, interrogating you almost. Asking where the wolf came from, why did you get it, did you not feel safe to wait until he came back? He's asking more because he's genuinely concerned and wants to know if something specific happened that made you feel like you needed a dog as big as the one currently stuffing his nose into the pockets of his jacket.

[gemmahale]

Ficbook.net and Unauthorized Translations - An Update

Update to the update: some of the fics have been removed! 🎉 This happened before I finished this write-up even!

You may have seen this post last night about some CoD X Reader fics having unauthorized translations posted to the Russian site ficbook.net. @karlachismylife was monumental in helping me understand what's going on, and there's some explanation in that link from her POV as well.

Basically - multiple people have copied and translated fanfics into Russian and hosted them on ficbook.net. They're rough translations, some going as far as to use literal translations for turns of phrase. Most likely, they were run through a translation software (Google Translate or similar) and then roughly edited. (Juju mentioned that there is a subset of jobs in Russia where that is your job description. 😖)

Most of them have come from Tumblr posts, some from AO3. Very few had attribution beyond "tagging" the original author. (Aka - no consent was given for these translations.)

@syoddeye took the time to compile a list found here (google sheet). At the time of writing, 65 fics CoD x Reader fics were found - we know there's more but we only have so many knives in a day. (Sy did not look into slash fics either.)

Authors that have been tagged in the comments: I'm sorry you found out this way. I wanted to tell you in person, but given Tumblr's likelihood of thinking I was spamming you, I felt that this was the best option to alert you, provide you with options, and let you determine how you wish to move forward.

So what can be done?

If you already have an account, please report the fics! I'm told that spamming reports gets it taken down. Also consider messaging the author and ask them to remove them - they do not have the author's consent to publish them.

If you want to make an account and report the linked fics, you can. I have chosen not to, because I don't want to give Ficbook any extra support I otherwise might by doing so (clicks, ad views, account numbers).

If the author does not have closed comments (or you have an account), you can leave a comment on the fic.

Russian: Автор оригинала лично подтвердил, что не давал разрешения на перевод и публикацию. English: Author of the work personally confirmed that they did not give permission to translate and publish.

Finally - check in on your author friends that are on that list. It's devastating to find out your work has been plagiarized, translated and hosted somewhere else without your consent. Reblog their work, share comments, hype them up!

A couple of notes: (Juju correct me if I've fucked any of this up 💚)

The posters are likely not making money off the unauthorized translations. The website and their owners definitely are (ads, "premium features", promotion tools, etc.)

Ficbook.net is the biggest Russian language fanfiction platform - somewhat akin to AO3, but it doesn't have a great reputation within Russian circles because of the stealing and underhanded practices the owners use.

AO3 is banned in Russia, and Tumblr is one of the few places Russians can easily (aka without VPNs and Mirrors) read English version of fanfic.

CoD isn't the only fandom affected - there are dozens that have more posted, and we only scratched the surface in our list.

Finally, if you want to translate works, TALK TO THE AUTHOR. A lot of folks don't like having their work shared without their consent. Even if you feel like you are doing a good thing spreading it to a wider audience, YOU NEED THE AUTHOR'S CONSENT. If they've deleted their presence and their stories from hosting sites (tumblr, AO3, etc) - you don't get to pretend you're doing them a favor by reposting them. Respect their decisions.