#and in love with how much soap loves ghost

[beloveds-embrace]

Okay what if (and stop me if I'm wrong here I'm new to A/B/O) the guys see someone flirting with the designation-less reader and they start subtly start marking them with pheromones to tell everyone else to back off?

I love this idea so much ugh 😩 scenting in the omegaverse always makes me so jdjsjen and no worries! Nothing about what you said is wrong and welcome to the blessed cursed space that is a/b/o

Original post

It started with Price and Ghost stepping into the armory.

You hadn’t noticed them at first, too focused on trying to edge away from the overly friendly Alpha soldier who just wouldn’t take the hint, no matter how disinterested you made sure you looked. He was leaning in closer than necessary, voice dropping lower with each word like he was trying to make the conversation feel more personal. Though your nose picked nothing, you just knew he was probably, likely, drowning the area with his stench.

You didn’t know how to stop it without making a scene. It wasn’t like he’d done anything wrong- just too many compliments, too much interest in your plans after hours, too much weight in the way he said your name. It left you off balance, unsure if you were imagining the tension curling low in your stomach. Unpleasant tension, as if youmd accidentally eaten spoiled food.

These days, it seemed as if you either garnered no attention, and when you did, it was unwelcome attention. At least it was different and far more pleasant with the 141.

“So, love, I was wondering-“

Then Price cleared his throat.

It wasn’t loud, but it cut through the room like a gunshot, sharp and commanding. Both you and the soldier froze, heads snapping toward the sound, and there he was- Captain Price, standing in the doorway like he owned the entire building, eyes locked right on the man in front of you.

Ghost was just behind him, silent and still as a shadow, but the weight of him filled the room like a second presence- dark, heavy, watching, shoulders tense like Price. You’ve been with them long enough to tell when they are angry based on body cues, and right now, that’s what they were.

Not for the first time, you wondered just what they’d smell like. Would it be heavy and harsh on your nose? Somehow, you doubted it. Then again, Soap did tell you that angry Alphas smell like burnt rubber most of the time.

You eyed the way your… admirer’s nose wrinkled, jaw tight, eyes shifting around.

You hoped it smelled worse.

The soldier stumbled over a few words before making an excuse to leave. He didn’t even try to finish the conversation- rude- and barely managed to keep his composure as he slipped out the door.

Letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your shoulders relaxed slightly as you turned to thank them- but the words caught in your throat when you saw the way they were now looking at you.

It wasn’t anger, exactly. It was something… sharper. Something that made your pulse quicken and your palms feel clammy, even though you hadn’t done anything wrong.

But then Price strode towards you and nodded, low and firm, clasping a hand on your shoulder, and Ghost lingered just long enough to brush his shoulder against yours before following him out the door.

… weird Alphas.

“Weird Alphas.” You said outloud as well, huffing.

You thought that was the end of it.

It wasn’t.

It was subtle, so subtle that you almost didn’t notice at first.

Soap was the easiest to miss, playful and touchy by nature so much so even one as people-averse as you were comfortable next to him by now. He slung an arm over your shoulders whenever you were nearby, leaning into your space like it was nothing. He’d linger there just long enough that your skin was warm before pulling away, flashing you a knowing grin you didn’t understand.

Gaz was more deliberate. He’d pass you things- gear, water bottles, paperwork, pens- and his fingers always brushed yours and lingered. Small steady touches, leaving traces of his warmth on everything he handed you, leaving traces of his warmth on your skin. When you worked together, he’d lean in close enough that his presence settled over you, wrapping around your skin like a second layer. Your shoulders and thighs would touch, and sometimes you swore you could feel a deep purr coming from him.

Price didn’t touch you often, but when he did, it lingered and was acutely felt. A hand at the small of your back to guide you through a crowded hallway. A warm palm resting against your shoulder during debriefings, right where your faulty scent glands are. Solid, steady touches that felt heavier than they should’ve- clearly intentional even to the likes of you, and yet you didn’t want to really, truly acknowledge them.

And Ghost- Ghost was the worst.

He didn’t say a single word when he draped his jacket over your shoulders after a long, rain-soaked training session, the heavy fabric still warm from his body and shielding you from the wafting chill. You’d tried to give it back later, but he pushed it into your hands with a low, demanding “Keep it.” That left no room for argument. You didn’t think much of it at first- just a practical gesture- but you caught the way the others looked at you after, the raised brows and faint smirks that made you second-guess what it really meant, especially when you found yourself wearing it long after the cold had faded. You’d tried wearing your own jacket, but the look he gave you had you sighing, leaving, and returning to wearing his.

You didn’t understand it at first, didn’t recognize it for what it was. But others did.

It was possessive. Territorial.

The stares started- quick, assessing glances from the other soldiers that led to widened eyes. People moved out of your way in the hallways, gave you more space than before. Conversations shifted when you walked into a room, voices dropping, eyes darting toward the men who always seemed to hover just behind you.

You didn’t know what to make of it.

And then Soap grinned at you over lunch one day where you wearing a shirt of John’s now and Ghost’s jacket, leaning close enough to bump his shoulder against yours, and said, “Looking good, bonnie. Don’t think anyone’s stupid enough to try sniffin’ around you now.”

It took you a second too long to process what he’d said. When you finally did, your eyes darted toward the others- toward Price, who didn’t even look up from his plate, and Gaz, who only smirked and in your shock, slipped the bracelet he was wearing on your wrist. Toward Ghost, who met your gaze with something dark and unreadable before leaning back in his chair like he wasn’t affected at all. No; he was satisfied, like a smug bear.

You swallowed.

It should’ve felt suffocating, overwhelming, but it didn’t.

It felt… safe. Secure in a way you didn’t know how to explain. The guy that had been bothering you had even requested a transfer.

You didn’t say anything, didn’t call them out on it.

But later, when Price pulled you in his face and rubbed his face, his chin and beard all across your neck, you didn’t move away.

The “good girl” you got was all you could think about hours later.

[ghcstao3]

ghost who has a pet tarantula. absolutely loves her to bits. he knows she feels no affection toward him the way any conventional pet might, but he doesn’t care. ghost likes to think they’re alike—introverted, not huge on people or touch. they just exist, together.

his favourite moments are when he’s going through paperwork in his office, and she sits in her portable enclosure that he is most certainly not supposed to have on base, let alone the bigger, stationary one in his room. sometimes he’ll leave the lid off and let her climb out, and sometimes she’s interested in the movement of his pen or in climbing up his arm, and that’s all ghost needs in a pet, he thinks. cohabitation. a general understanding of one another’s being.

(soap is initially not a fan, to say the least. it’s not that he’s afraid of spiders, it’s just… a tarantula is of a considerable size for a bug, and when her tank is looming in the corner while he and ghost are cuddling… it takes some getting used to.

slowly but surely, though, soap learns to accept it. he begins to view the spider through ghost’s perspective, and honestly? he finds it kind of cute how much the lieutenant cares for her. how such a small, simple creature can make ghost happy. maybe soap could get a few pointers from the tarantula.)

[quarterlifekitty]

more medieval fantasy au time! reader whose life sucks and wont be missed by anyone in the present life suddenly finds herself back in time after blacking out and being mistaken for the assassin who was given orders to kill any of the cod boys (or price becos he's my hubby). cod boys/price decides to keep her under their watch closely in case she makes any more attempts to kill them. love myself some slowburn enemy to lover shite <3

Fun fact about me. I enjoy that shite, played out isekai manga/manwha trope where a girl gets reborn into the story of her favorite dating simulator except she’s reborn as the villainess and has to try to use her knowledge of the game to change the story and avoid dying to the heroine or one of her many devoted love interests. But often her sudden change in personality piques the interest of one of those love interests…. Here’s a very dark hentai with a somewhat similar plot to this trope, if you’re interested! Ghost coded, imo. Noncon warning.

Anyways

Prince!Gaz doesn’t believe you when you say you weren’t trying to kill him, but he does believe you when you say it isn’t your fault. Poor thing. Must’ve been forced into it! You don’t have to worry about that anymore, he’ll keep you safe from whatever criminal underbelly manipulated you into doing this. He turns you into a bit of a pet project. A perfect rehabilitation of a criminal. It’ll be a brilliant morale boost. Maybe even more so if he takes you as his wife? Controversial, yet romantic— the bards will eat it up for sure.

Knight!Soap thinks it’s a bit fishy. Why go after him? Why not the captain of the guard? He’s kind of a dickhead, but he doesn’t make any personal enemies. He’s just gonna have to keep you until you fess up and tell him who hired you and what the motive was. And how lucky he is that the assassin they sent was so cute and squeezable, too! He doesn’t mind having to keep you.

Warlord!Ghost considers this an open proposal for marriage. He’s very much attracted to your gall and open animosity towards him. Both excellent qualities in a wife and a mother. Very well— he accepts!

Lord!Price can see that you’re not a natural born killer. This must have been your first time. Your attempt failed— so he won’t have you killed… he takes a look at you and decides that humiliation is a more fitting punishment. So he’ll be keeping you collared and on a leash for the foreseeable future.

Artificer!Nikolai can see what’s happened right away. You have the smell of otherworld clinging to you. You’re not from around here. But he’ll play along as if he doesn’t know that. As for your punishment… he’s been wanting an apprentice. Some cute little thing to help him around his workshop. Looks like you fit the bill on that.

[laswells-ashtray]

Imagine the 141 getting to meet Sergeant Price?? Like, Time Machine type shit or they were around when he was still young. Either way, they got to see how chaotic and truly reckless their captain was in his younger days(as well as how in love he and Nik were)

I went for a slightly different route and I hope you don't mind, I just couldn't get my mind to cooperate with time travel so I went with a weird chemical that de-ages you and boom, young John. [I wanna add because I don't like how I worded something here, I'm not saying Sergeant Price is 18, I'm saying he likes it I just can't articulate this one sentence the way I want to.]

Pushing himself up into a sitting position with a groan, Ghost tries to take in his surroundings. His eyes feel like they've been glued shut and then ripped open, his left shoulder aches and the hilt of one of his knives is digging into his hip. He watches Soap and Gaz do the same as him, glancing around their surroundings with a look of questioning.

They'd been fine until one lone man had sprung round a corner and launched something at them. It'd moved too fast for Ghost to get a glimpse of what it was before it smacked against Price's chest and then there had been a bang before he'd woken up in his arse. Nothing around them was destroyed so it couldn't have been an explosion, what the fuck was it?

He jolts up suddenly, ignoring the throbbing pain in his shoulder as he looks over to where John had been standing. He's still unconscious but he seems relatively unharmed until Ghost's eyes drift up to his face.

He rubs a hand over his eyes, smearing them with eyeblack and catching his hands on a rough edge of his mask that he's yet to file down and fix. It changes nothing. He remains the same as he had before, clean-shaven. He not so gracefully shifts across the floor closer to the captain, gaining the two attention of the two sergeants.

It certainly looks like John, he's sure of that but there appears to be a slight problem. It might be the fact that he looks around 18, that could be it. Ghost knows that he might be hallucinating but it feels too real. He's seen pictures of a young, Sergeant Price before. Bit of a baby face until he'd committed to the beard, went from looking like a teenager to Robert Shaw in Jaws. And this looks exactly like Price pre-beard.

He can feel Gaz's hand on his shoulder as they peer down at the body in front of them and Soap's soft, barely audible "wit the fuck". So, they're all seeing it.

There's a grumble before Price? throws himself into a sitting position and scans the room, eyes stopping on the three of them. Watching the scowl form on his face as he eyes them all with confusion is almost comical.

"Who the fuck are you lot?"

Well, he has the same amount of tact that John typically has.

"Who are you?" Gaz blurts out, looking the younger man up and down.

The man seems to quickly identify them as British and SAS but it does little to quell the obvious suspicion he regards them with. "Sergeant John Price, now are you gonna tell me who you are or keep standing there like a spare prick at a whore's wedding?"

Bloody hell.

Soap's snort is obnoxious in the quiet atmosphere of the room but Ghost can't bring himself to feel annoyed about it, if he wasn't used to half of the bullshit they do then he'd probably be in fits of hysterical laughter by now.

"You sure about that?" Ghost asks him, watching the man through narrowed eyes. It'd be no good to let him know that Ghost was equally confused as he was.

Maybe John rolls his eyes, glaring at Ghost as he takes in the view of the masked man in front of him before letting out a soft, amused huff.

"You're a fuckin big lad, int ye, Skeletor? Yes, I'm sure. I know who I bloody well am."

He can't be John, he can't be. But it's so much like him, the abruptness, the demeanour and the look. He's everything like the pictures Ghost has seen and the stories he's heard from Nikolai and Kate.

"Prove it," John had told him the story once while drunk and had completely forgotten about it after, Simon had never brought it up again. He liked to pretend that they'd both forgotten about it. "scar on your shoulder blade, where did it come from?"

He refuses to feel bad about how the younger man's face falls before he can hide it with a look of anger. "Courtesy of a bottle of Johnnie Walker's finest in my old man's clumsy hands. And how the fuck does a cunt like you know that?"

It's John. It's fucking Price. It's his captain, but it isn't.

He ignores the sharp inhale from one of the sergeants behind him as he leans in closer to John, pretending not to notice how the younger man's hands clench into fists.

"You're our captain, or you're supposed to be until someone lopped something at you and now you're a bloody sergeant." There's no proper way to explain it, is there? The younger man will never believe him.

John stares blankly back at him before eventually asking a question, "Is this Mac trying to take the piss because he's annoyed about the dent in his car? The crabbit git."

Soap answers before he has the chance to,

"I'm afraid we don't ken anyhin aboot Mac or his motor, mate. And we're no rippin the piss."

The disbelief is obvious as John snorts and crosses his arms, looking far to amused at Soap's words.

"He even got another Scot to do it. Good on the bastard, I'll finally stop hearing about the amount of "smarmy Englishmen" on base. Tell me, William Wallace, where did he find you?"

The thought strikes Ghost and he's glad the balaclava hides the smirk on his face, it appears that every variation of John Price is a bit of a wanker.

Added thought is just Sergeant Price meeting current-day Nikolai and walking away because he isn't getting caught with a hard-on by the man he'd been shagging two days ago back when said man was almost twenty years younger.

[sergeant-angels-trashcan]

CoD girlies, this one is for you. (but also Sam Wilson coded. anyway)

So. My mom was flying home and she had a stopover in The Big Fucking Airport in Chicago, I don't remember the name right now. The point is, she gets Chicago Pizza for me. And cheesecake.

And on the flight home, she is sat next to a military boy (boy is her designation, not mine. She's three weeks away from seventy, this is not a helpful description)

And she starts talking to him, because that is who my mother is, she finds out that he's coming home for the holidays and then he's getting stationed and such-and-such base.

At some point, because of who she is as a person, and because she had spent nearly two months Momming and Grandmothering as hard as she could and had not yet turned it down, she asks this young man if he is hungry. Is he hungry? Does he need food? She has pizza. Would he like the pizza? Oh, no, no it's okay! Take the pizza! it's fine!

He then reveals that this is the first food he's had all day (it's like 4pm) and my mom :0 and finds more food to give him. As they deplane she gives him $20 which is the last of her American cash. This is the end of the story

My mom. is so, so close to being the meddling matchmaker the sitcoms of my youth promised me she would be, and she drops the ball EVERY. TIME.

However, the point is now I can't stop thinking about this with the CoD boys. Maybe it's not even a few weeks before Christmas, maybe it's the day of due to bad luck or whatever idk idk doesn't matter

Honestly Ghost is objectively the funniest just because he'd be about two feet taller than her and she would absolutely not be intimidated by him. At some point she would share stories from before she retired and would say something about how she "had to take down a big boy like you once" and that "I told him it was a good thing my daughters weren't in town". I'm sorry he would be so fucking endeared by this. And he'd track her down somehow to say thanks or to pay her back and then obviously he gets invited in for baked goods and falls in love with you (me)

Gaz is so effortlessly charming. He asks if he can Venmo her money, and she has no idea what that is. Paypal? She doesn't have one. Her daughter does that, she's not very tech savvy, you know? She goes off on a tangent about having to use a typewriter to write papers in college. Gaz is undeterred--could he send it to this daughter and she could pass it on? Then again, maybe this is a teenager, and him having the number of a random teenager feels weird. He's out of time, they're deplaning. She's hard to keep track of, a short woman, but he's, well, Gaz. He spots her making for a car at the curb, the driver's door opening, and presumably the daughter getting out. Gaz makes a beeline for them. After a moment of confusion, you get introduced to Gaz, who tries to explain the situation while you're being yelled at by airport security and honked at by other drivers. It's not ideal--but he gets your number. He waits maybe an hour before texting you.

Soap is the hardest. My mom struggles so much with British accents so I think she'd get about half of what he says to start with. He'd call her bonnie (cos he's a charmer like that) and she wouldn't know what it means. I think she shows him a LOT of grandkid pictures and he's fully endeared by how she knows her oldest grandchild likes linkin park and slipknot while having no clue who they are. Soap is the one who tracks her to the pickup area and books it to your car so neither of you have to lift her luggage ("your mam said you have shoulder troubles, cannae let you make it worse, aye?"). Something something your hands brush as you reach for the same piece of luggage

Price would be a little awkward until she weasels his age out of him and then she realizes: ah! baby age! boy! (man's 40 max). I think he'd be better at getting her to talk, she's absolutely whipping out her phone (complaining about how it's old and doesn't have enough memory) and showing him pictures of the grandkids and a rundown of their hobbies and trash talking my sister's in-laws just a little. I can imagine her realizing he doesn't have a ride and volunteering you to drop him off at a hotel. You pull up to the curb and are like. Who the fuck is this man towering over my mother. He winds up in the front seat because his legs are longer and he turns so he can keep talking to your mom which is pretty sweet to be honest. You drop him off and it's not til you finally get home and start hauling luggage out that you realize he's left something in your car, maybe his phone or a watch, something important. And you heave a big sigh, haul all the luggage in, hug you mom, and trudge back to the car to drive back to the hotel. Or maybe your mom tells you to return it tomorrow, it's too late and it's raining. And the next afternoon she sends you to the hotel with fresh baked goods for him. He asks you out to lunch and suddenly it's 5 hours later and your mom thinks you're dead in a ditch somewhere because you haven't answered her texts. It's because you're too busy flirting.

[eleu22]

just some random task force 141 headcanons

tw: drugs, dead baby jokes?

gaz

- has been approached by model scouts on nights out with the 141 and is so gassed by it but pretends not to be

- got holding onto his tactical vest straps from price because he thought it looked cool

- popular as fuck in school

- side eye king (canon)

- used to do ket when he was younger and is now paranoid price will find out somehow and be disappointed in him

- highlights during briefings and soap calls him a neek

- deleted tiktok because he got addicted to those ingrown hair removal videos

- borderline illegible handwriting

- type to laugh when hes really mad (its lowkey scary)

- has once described himself as a “thought daughter”

- paces when hes stressed

- terrys chocolate orange enjoyer

- tried to grow out a beard but it was weird and kind of patchy

soap

- will be looking at a nice view and will always say how a huge explosion would make it look so much cooler

- does that thing where he tells you to straighten your legs and then kicks the back of your knee

- cannot stay still in his sleep and has once woken up with half is body off the bed horizontally

- has a comic book collection and if you touch it he will kick you out

- goes to life drawing classes sometimes in his free time

- all of his exam papers had doodles on them

- the type of guy to draw a penis in ur notebook

- all of his socks have holes in them but refuses to buy new ones, some are literally the concept of a sock at this point

- smells his armpits unabashedly to see if he smells or not

- will ask to tell you a secret and burp in your ear

- when someone drops like a plate or a cup is the type to scream “wheey!!” and clap and he did that at a pub once and got them kicked out

- will make a fart noise and loudly blame it on you (especially in packed elevators)

-booger flicker

ghost

- makes zero noise when sneezing but still acts it out and he looks like hes bugging

- nose bridge pincher

- doesn’t clip off his fingernails he literally just bites them off and spits it into the bin

- type to say “well done.” sarcastically

- casual dead baby joke enjoyer

“how many babies does it take to paint a wall?”

“depends on how hard you throw them.”

(silence)

- really enjoys solitaire mobile is on level 177

- he once made a recruit run laps for microwaving tea

- off duty he has terrible posture

- chapped lips 24/7

- favourite takeout is chinese food and always get the vegetable spring rolls - he will buy takeout in bulk and then live off of leftovers instead of actually buying groceries

- has 3 forks one knife and one spoon

- has literally no sense of rhythm what so ever , cannot dance to save his life

- loves making social situations awkward in purpose but would never admit that so he just comes off as slightly off putting a lot of the time

price

- sneezes and coughs ridiculously loudly

- weirdly territorial about his hat (i find it so funny he has a waterproof version of it)

- has a weird mole on his back he refuses to get checked out - his reasoning is if he dies via mole it was natural selection

- has extensive knowledge on art history and hates conceptual art (has a tate membership card)

- licks his finger before turning a page

- casual moomin enjoyer

- cuts his cuticles - likes his maintenance has a beard grooming kit

- says he doesnt watch tiktoks but he watches tiktok dog video complications in youtube and they have the most npc ass audios

- is on the “cigar society” on facebook and gives reviews for them

- does the head tilt of disappointment (if its thrown at gaz he literally will not get over it for days)

- slaps his knee when laughing really hard

- also nose bridge pincher

- is the type of make those hiking comments to people who walk by

- really enjoyed the lego batman movie

- unabashedly itches himself

- takes fish oil supplements

- always puts his hand up to say thank you when cars stop for him

- flirts with baristas

- had a brief midlife crisis where he wanted to become a mystery novelist (still has the drafts hidden somewhere but you couldn’t waterboard that information out of him)

thank you

[gingeremu]

I’ve seen some people getting mad at Via for being angry and hurt by her dad. I need to remind you that Via doesn’t have the knowledge we do because we are the audience.

So from her perspective

- she knows her parents were in an arranged marriage but that’s okay because at least they love her and are there for her

- her father is pulling away, he’s fighting more and more with her mom. Neither of them care about her as much as they care about arguing with each other. But that’s okay. Her father promised he’d always be there for her.

- her father cheated. Her father cheated with a male imp and is now divorcing her mother. The fighting is worse. They only acknowledge via as a pawn to hurt the others feelings. She becomes a stranger to her own parents and a ghost in her own home.

- her father is happier with the imp. Does that mean he wasn’t happy before? Was she not able to make him happy? Was she not enough? But it’s okay because he’s trying to connect with her. He only knows the child version of her and keeps pulling away to pay attention to the home wrecker but at least he’s trying.

- Her father gets nearly killed and all he does is mope because his affair partner doesn’t seem to care. What about via? What about how scared she is realizing her parents aren’t as immortal as she thought. She’s losing her father emotionally and now she may lose him physically

- he doesn’t leave the room. He cries and mopes while watching rom coms and soap operas and devouring gallons of ice cream. She doesn’t remember the last time they spoke

- he’s on tv. Admitting to crimes that would have his head if he wasn’t a prince. Instead he is stripped of his powers and title and banished from their home for 100 years. He chose this. He chose the imp. Via is alone. He had a choice and he chose someone else.

- it takes him nearly a day to try and call her. She’s an afterthought even now.

[kiya-sparks]

Uhm-

This is my first ever post so here’s a small fanfic about Gaz from modern warfare adopting a child he finds on a mission :|

Uhm here it is ig:

The heat was oppressive, the kind that seeped into your bones and made you question every decision that led you here. Kyle Garrick, better known to his comrades as Gaz, adjusted his grip on his rifle as he moved through the desolate town. The mission had been straightforward—intel suggested that enemy forces had been using the abandoned area as a weapons cache. What they hadn’t expected was the eerie silence, the stillness that felt wrong.

“Clear on my side,” Price’s voice crackled through the comms.

“Same here,” Soap chimed in.

Gaz swept through a crumbling house, his boots crunching on broken glass and debris. The wallpaper was peeling, the furniture overturned. It was a ghost town. But as he moved into the living room, something stopped him in his tracks—a faint sound, almost like a whimper.

“Hold up,” Gaz whispered into his mic.

“What is it?” Price asked.

“Not sure. Checking it out.”

He followed the sound, heart pounding, until he reached a closet. Slowly, he opened the door, his rifle raised. What he found made his stomach twist—a little girl, no older than six, huddled in the corner. Her blonde hair was tangled, her face smudged with dirt, and her wide blue eyes stared up at him in fear.

“Bloody hell,” Gaz muttered, lowering his weapon.

The girl flinched, curling tighter into herself.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said softly, crouching down to her level. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Her eyes darted to the gun, then back to his face.

“Gaz, report,” Price’s voice came through the comms.

“I… I found a kid,” Gaz said, still trying to process it himself.

“A kid?” Soap sounded as surprised as Gaz felt.

“Yeah. She’s scared out of her mind. I don’t think she’s been here long.”

Price’s tone shifted. “Bring her out. We’ll figure it out from there.”

Gaz extended a hand to the girl. “Come on, love. It’s not safe here.”

She hesitated but eventually reached out, her tiny hand slipping into his. It was cold, and it broke something in Gaz to think of her alone in this place.

---

Back at the makeshift base, Y/N , as they learned her name was, sat wrapped in one of Gaz’s jackets, clutching a cup of warm tea. She hadn’t spoken much, just short answers to their gentle questions.

“Parents?” Soap asked quietly as the three of them stood off to the side.

“Gone, I’d wager,” Price said grimly.

Gaz’s jaw tightened. “We can’t just leave her.”

“We’re not going to,” Price said. “But this isn’t exactly a daycare. She needs a stable home.”

The words hung in the air, and Gaz felt something stir in his chest. He looked over at Y/N , who was staring into the cup like it held all the answers. There was something about her—maybe it was the way she’d clung to him during the ride back, or the way she looked at him now, like he was the only safe thing in her world.

“I’ll take her,” Gaz said, surprising even himself.

Price raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that, son? This isn’t a short-term commitment.”

“I know,” Gaz said firmly. “But she deserves better than being tossed into the system. I can give her a home.”

Soap smirked. “Didn’t peg you for the dad type, mate.”

Gaz shrugged. “Guess I am now.”

---

The transition wasn’t easy. Y/N was shy, often retreating into herself. But Gaz was patient. He bought her toys, books, and a tiny pink bike she instantly fell in love with. He learned how to braid her hair, how to pack her lunch for school, and how to comfort her when nightmares woke her in the middle of the night.

The rest of the Task Force became her extended family. Soap was the goofy uncle who taught her Scottish slang, and Price was the gruff but caring grandfather figure who always seemed to have a Werther’s Original in his pocket for her. Even Ghost, with his intimidating demeanor, had a soft spot for Y/N, often bringing her small trinkets from missions.

One evening, months after he’d taken her in, Gaz sat on the couch, watching Y/N color in one of her books.

“Daddy?” she said suddenly, looking up at him.

Gaz’s heart stopped. She’d never called him that before.

“Yeah, love?”

“Are you gonna go away?”

The question hit him like a punch to the gut. He set his mug down and moved to sit next to her.

“I’ll always come back,” he promised, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “No matter what.”

She studied him for a moment, then nodded, seemingly satisfied. She went back to her coloring, and Gaz sat there, overwhelmed by the weight of her trust.

For years, he’d thought his purpose was on the battlefield, protecting the world from threats. But now, as he watched Y/N hum to herself, he realized his most important mission was right here at home.

[grimmroach]

my favorite soap is the soap that is so so soft and gentle toward ghost. like he LOVES that man and he will make sure said man knows it. he looks at ghost like he hung the stars. traces over the scars of Ghost’s body, committing each one to memory. draws him over and over again, sketchbooks lined with ghost’s eyes, hands, mask, lips- he fucking loves that man.

[temeyes]

Slip-Up

[stellewriites]

Hii! Can you do ghoap x reader fluff? Like cuddles with mild flirting (from soap, obviously) and like soap is the little spoon, because in return he gets head scratches in return, reader in the middle, and Simon as the big spoon just pressing his face into the crook of readers neck?

Would rlly apreciate it <3

-🌑

i loved this idea when i read it and then proceeded to take far too long to actually answer it lmao BUT!! here it is,, ghoap x fem!reader fluff - ty for the request 💓

you picked up the cheap jar of pasta sauce and compared it to the branded version stacked next to it. as far as you could tell, the ingredients were the same and the little veg chunks included weren’t any smaller.

you nodded to yourself. it was decided, you weren’t paying two quid extra just for a name, fuck dolmio.

you looked higher to the top shelf and frowned when you saw the pasta had been pushed away from the edge and you’d be unable to reach it on your own.

“need a hand, dove?”

you turned to see a handsome man with a mohawk beelining towards you, his eyes tracing your frame with hot familiarity. without waiting for your response, he bullied his way into your space to reach over you for the pasta. barely stepping back, he handed you the pack and looked you up and down.

“thanks, stranger,” you said, holding back a laugh at his amused smile. you saw the moment he decided to play along.

“pretty skirt,” he said and nodded down to your bare legs peeking out beneath the denim.

“hm, my boyfriend got me it,” you said, a little teasingly.

“oh? and this boyfriend, he’s left ye all alone to do the shoppin’ has he?”

“no, he’ll be back soon. and he’s kinda protective, won’t be happy seeing me talking to other guys,” you said trying not to smile.

“ah’m no’ scared,” he scoffed, his own smile breaking out as he looked around the aisle eagerly for the aforementioned boyfriend.

“i don’t know, he’s pretty big and strong, wears a scary mask,” you said.

“aye? reminds me o’ my boyfriend,” he said and you finally giggled, leaning in to kiss him and giving up playing pretend.

“dove, they got their tiger bread in stock again,” simon said as he rounded the corner of the aisle and interrupting your kiss. “i ha’n’t ‘ad this in ages.” simon barely paused at the unexpected appearance of johnny, his eyes turning up in the corners as he smiled under his mask. “johnny, look, tiger bread.”

“yeah, i seen, si,” johnny said fondly, crowding you back against the trolley. “only getting the one loaf?”

simon paused. “hm. you’re right.”

you snorted as he dropped the bread into the trolley before heading back to the bakery section and leaving the pair of you alone again.

“work was a fookin’ drag, dove, cannae stand all this paperwork they’re keepin’ me busy with,” johnny groaned into your temple. you petted his arm consolingly before turning back to your list and shopping trolley.

“you were injured less than a month back, john, you can’t have been expecting to be back in the field so soon?” you hummed as you continued shopping with johnny leant over your back.

his silence spoke volumes.

you shook your head as you made your way through the store and waved simon over as you passed him by, hoping he hadn’t harassed the bakery staff into making more tiger loaves last minute for him. the absolute fiend.

“wha’s wrong with him?” simon asked as he got back, hands full as he nodded to johnny’s slumped frame. you refrained from asking simon if you really needed three tiger breads and instead nudged your other boyfriend up from your shoulder.

“he’s bored,” you said easily, grinning when johnny pulled back properly to send you a betrayed look.

“fuck’s sake. c’mere,” simon huffed before dipping down to kiss him, chuffing a laugh as johnny sputtered at the woollen texture of the mask in between them. “you’ll be back in no time. just behave or it’ll be longer.”

“ye sound like cap,” johnny grimaced. he wiped a hand down his tired face. “when are we goin’ home, hm? fuckin’ knackered, could do with a nap before dinner.”

“y’drive ‘ere?” ghost asked while you grabbed a box of eggs, checking for any cracked inside.

“aye.”

“then you can leave whenever,” ghost said flatly, though the glint of his eyes in the overhead lights betrayed his amusement at johnny’s plight.

johnny pouted.

“yer cruel, si. tell him, dove, he’s heartless,” johnny bemoaned dramatically.

“you’re cruel and heartless, simon, would you prefer strawberry jam or raspberry for a change?”

“could be a treat,” ghost conceded.

johnny groaned at the both of you, pinching your hip when you laughed.

“you both know i cannae sleep without someone’s arms around me,” he huffed, turning his big puppy eyes on you both.

you caved immediately.

“aw poor baby,” you cooed, biting your lip when you saw simon roll his eyes. “let’s get this done quick then, yeah? go grab the burgers we like from the frozen section and that ice cream we got a couple weeks back.”

“yes, ma’am.” johnny jogged off.

“si, can i trust you not to make your way back to the bakery if i give you a list of items to grab?”

“no,” he admitted without shame. “i saw the lad in the back prepping more for tomorrow, think i could convince ‘im to cook ‘em now for me if given the time.”

“right. hand holding it is as we find the toiletries then. ‘s like herding cats with you two.”

simon hummed, his eyes trained on the section you knew the bakery to be hidden in.

—

once home, johnny packed away the majority of your shopping in record time, snatching the jam from simon’s hands and almost throwing it onto the work top before plying his mask up one handed and dragging him down into a rough kiss with the other. you watched, amused, with raised eyebrows as johnny dragged him back towards the bedroom desperately, waving a hand at you and gasping out a needy, “dove, c’mon, stop fucking around,” in between wet kisses.

you didn’t need to be told twice before attaching your hands onto simon’s thick waist from behind, guiding them from bumping into any furniture or walls as they stumbled blind to the bedroom.

johnny pulled back with a dopey smile and pushed simon none too gently onto the bed. you took advantage of his lowered height and pulled off his mask completely, rubbing a gentle hand over his buzz cut hair and down to his jaw. you leant in for a soft peck before feeling johnny’s hands and arms wrap around your soft stomach.

he clung to you, nuzzling at your cheek over your shoulder until you turned in his arms to share your attention.

you heard the bed creak as simon settled further up the bed as johnny kissed you. you shuffled back, parting from johnny just long enough to get your bearings and climb onto the bed, simon’s hands moving to guide you back as johnny hummed against your lips.

you flopped back into simon’s arms, got comfortable as he wrapped you up and held you tight against him.

johnny sighed in relief at the sight and shuffled down so he could rest his head on your chest.

you gathered him close and laughed when he started whining when your hands stayed on his shoulders.

“so needy johnny, have you ever heard the phrase ‘patience is a virtue’?” you teased as you started to run your nails through his hair, lightly scratching until he sighed and dropped his body weight against you and simon.

“too t’red,” he mumbled.

simon lifted his warm hand from your hip and draped it heavily over the back of johnny’s neck, keeping him close. soon enough, the scot was snoring.

you tried not to laugh, your chest bouncing johnny with your muffled chuckles. “i think that might be a record.”

“tired lamb,” simon said condescendingly, but he rubbed his thumb lovingly over the soft skin behind johnny’s ear.

“don’t be mean.” you grinned back at him.

simon hummed and rested his head into the crook of your neck, tucking you in closer with the arm still wrapped underneath your waist. “not bein’ mean.”

he nipped at your neck, a soft nibble that had you gasping and clenching your thick thighs around the one johnny had slipped inbetween.

“prick,” you huffed without malice when he stopped and let out a long tired breath in your ear. he hummed with closed eyes, clearly not listening.

you chuffed a laugh into johnny’s hair. the low thrum of arousal simon had brought on was easy enough to ignore but you’d have rather he’d finished what he started. instead, you tucked your cold toes between his large calves behind you in penance and tugged johnny even closer, enough to smother him. with your arse perched perfectly in simon’s lap and johnny nestled close to his second favourite place on your body, you were sure they’d give you what you were after once their nap is over. you closed your eyes with a smile; you could wait for them to get their energy up, and you loved your puppy piles just as much as they did.

[furiosophie]

it's something sinister to love without regard for dear tomorrow

[imababblekat]

•CW: food, reader eating a lot, slightly suggestive•

The guys have never seen a sweet thing like you eat before. It’s Friday night, y’all just got back from deployment, and ofc Johnny suggests going to a bar as a way to cool off from everything. And ofc, the guys can’t wait to get some actual real food in their guts. Naturally they’d say the same for you, only they could have never foreseen just how badly you craved for some real food. The waiter just dropped off your third basket of wings, you’re nearly done with your second, and the guys can’t stop staring at the way you just stuck a particularly meaty wing into your mouth, pulling it out bone fucking clean. Your eyes scour the small round table, and the guys think you’re about to get all shy and excuse yourself, except you just point at their own unfinished meals, with a “ya gonna finish that?”

Price is quickly thinking of every holiday where he can make you the perfect meal to make sure you’re good and wonderfully full.

Simon’s already got a whole wedding menu set up for the two of you, despite neither of you dating.

Kyle is somehow so flabbergasted and so enamored all at the same time.

Johnny has never wanted to be a chicken wing so badly in his life.

[tavysboy]

No other love can warm my heart, now that I’ve known the comfort of your arms.

Unedited version under cut 💛

[molotovmetro]

The 141 + König with a s/o who goes non-verbal

Tiny disclaimer: im autistic and have moments of being non verbal during breakdowns etc, so this is based mostly off of my own experience, but if anyone feels like ive said inaccurate or offensive things, please let me know as that would never be my intention. The way I've written this suggests this is a negative feeling (, since thats how i experience it) but I understand that might not be the same for everyone. For some people this might just be a daily or

Requested by @apocalypticseagull

Warnings: mentions of stress and the slightest hint at possible injury, besides that nothing I can think of

M!reader

Ghost

Ghost relates to you. While he wouldn't claim his experience is the same, he gets moments of overstimulation where he wants everyone to leave him alone, and will just stop reacting to people.

When he feels like this, he prefers to sit in his room, either completely in the dark or with only a small lamp on, and have as little noise around him as possible.

If you're in a stress situation, not knowing what else to do to help you, that's what he'll resort to.

He'll take you into either his room or yours, whichever you would prefer, and holds you while letting you get away from all the triggers for a bit. Unless you're dealing with life or death situations, whatever work you have left for the day can wait. Your wellbeing always comes first.

Soap

Soap is a lot more observant than people give him credit for. He's the king of avoiding stressful situations for you whenever he can.

But alas, he can't avoid it every time. Whether you start saying less and less as the minutes go on, or just stop talking suddenly, he notices immediately.

Not that he'd be quick to admit it, but he's got a written list of everything you like, even if it's just something you mentioned in passing. He absutely will use this list to do whatever he can to make you smile and relieve some of your stress.

He'll make sure to find a way to still communicate that both of you are comfortable with. He'll happily lend you his journal to write in, or he'll ask Roach for some lessons in sign language. He'd break his back bending over backwards to make you comfortable if he had to.

Gaz

No matter how often it happens, Gaz still feels a jolt of panic whenever you don't respond over coms when you're on a mission. He almost sags in relief as soon as he hears you hum, or even just hears the crackly static of you pushing your radio's button.

He knows you're a talented soldier and you're more than capable of handling yourself, he still prefers to be near you at all times. What if something happens and you can't tell him? You could be in trouble without him even knowing. He'll, just knowing you're stressed is making him want to reach for you.

He likes his job, likes helping people and ridding the world of danger, but his favourite part of every mission is when you're sitting in the exfil helo after a good mission, and you give him that wide smile he's been waiting hours, if not days to see.

Price

You and Price have been working together for so long, you both know the drill. When he starts to notice you going quiet, he makes sure he only asks yes or no questions. On your side; one click of your radio button for no, two for yes. Throw in some improvised morse code when necessary, and you've got a solid communications system.

Having this system is also a huge bonus during stealth missions, when he can't talk freely without risking being spotted.

He loves hearing your voice, but he doesn't treat you any differently when you can't talk. He'll support you in whatever way you need, without making it feel like he's babying you.

The two of you are a well oiled machine. No matter how stressful the situation, usually you can tell what the other one is thinking just by looking at them. You know you both have each other's back, verbal communication or not.

König

König doesn't mean to make a big deal out of it, and he won't if you don't, but he does worry.

After a situation like that happens once, he commits everything that helps you to his memory, and uses the knowledge to help you the next time it happens.

Even down to the tiniest detail, he'll remember. If you don't like a certain texture or can only stand a certain flavour of drink during moments like this, he's making sure you have everything you need and are as comfortable as possible. Whatever is stressing you will be dealt with by him while you're resting and calming down.

If you want to be alone, he understands and respects that, and gives you the space you need. But if you don't, there's nowhere he'd rather be than by your side.

[buttdumplin]

Been thinking a lot about the 141 boys and their piercings. This is just a quick little thing

cw: poly 141, gn!reader, clit and tits specified but that's it, genital piercings, breeding mention, lots of precum (this one is a little sticky), aftercare mentioned, let me know if I missed anything! word count: 982

Ghost, undeniably, with his Jacob's ladder, 7 rungs. He'll use it to measure and tease each of you about how much of him you're able to take. He loves seeing the pride and hunger that each rung inspires, making it solely about you as the receiver. It's quite an experience every time, one he'll recreate as many times as asked. But if you ask Ghost, his favorite use of it is working each of you up without penetration. He'll still your hips as he grinds against you until you're drenched and every drag of his cock fills the room with squelching. He'll rut against the boys from base to tip until they are coated with their own precum. Gaz will whimper every time Ghost presses against his frenulum and the sound alone has the rest of you moaning.

Pretty boy Gaz himself has 2 that he can hide, a lovely little tongue piercing and a guiche. The boy loves to give and to get, and really, who can blame him. He loves the fact that he can keep both mostly hidden and then flash them at all of you to tempt you into bed. And it's never not worked. The boys are never as breathless as they are every time he presses the bead on his tongue into their slits. It's lead to plenty of sounding sessions, but nothing hits as hard as when Gaz has his lips wrapped around their tips, bead nestled in them, and he lets out a deep, prolonged hum. And in return, you'll all take advantage of that guiche. You'll reach down as you ride him, past those incredibly sensitive balls of his, and press and flick lightly at the hoop. It'll have the most sinful sounds coming from his mouth and have his hips stutter.

Soap has his nipples done, a shiny silver barbell through each, of course. His nipples were already sensitive before the piercings, but now a single flick at them will have him hard in half a second. You've all been known to take on the challenge of making Soap cum by just playing with his nipples. Those nights will end with him drooling and covered in copious amounts of his own cum, because a single time is not enough for any of you. And while it leaves him sensitive for days, he lives for those sessions. Soap will also use them to subtly and secretly work the boys up during the day. He'll drop by to check in on them and come close as if he's got something important to tell them, but he'll use the moment to rub his nipple against theirs. He'll keep at it until they reach for him, sprinting away before they can grab hold. And with you, he'll pin you down and hold your tits to give you the exact same treatment, only without any clothes acting as barriers, ignoring the rest of your body, not stopping until you're begging prettily. Never you mind that he's also panting by the time you do so.

And Price, beautiful, wonderful Price. He has his nipples pierced, too, only he's got heavy silver hoops in them. He's also got a Prince Albert, which he will use on all of you without an ounce of hesitation. Nights with him will have each and every single one of you crying with pleasure. He'll gladly go at Gaz' frenulum with it, having him cumming just from frotting. He'll use it to milk Ghost and Soap's prostates, making them go for round after round after round until they run dry. And he'll use it to abuse your clit until you're begging him to fuck you, whispering in your ear that maybe this time it'll stimulate your cervix enough to help his seed catch. You always agree, nodding blindly, needing the feeling of him ramming into you so fucking deeply.

On days when he's tired and needs a break from his constant role of authority, you and the boys will bring out this little chain you had made for him. It's an almost dainty thing that clips onto his nipple hoops and his Prince Albert. It's just short enough to pull gently at all three, giving steady stimulation but not enough to help him cum. You and the boys will have him kneel in front of you, and you'll caress him and kiss him and put on a show to make his heavy cock jerk and tug on the chain. On these days, Price will never beg, he won't even speak unless asked to. Because he knows you'll all treat him right, he knows he's in safe hands. So he'll kneel in place for as long as asked, using his mouth on each of you, a steady string of precum oozing from his cock and hitting the floor. These chain sessions end with Price at the center of the cuddle pile and the most tender aftercare.

There is another one they all have as well. No one really remembers who brought it up to begin with, but for your one year anniversary with them, they all got a pubic piercing. They all went into the shop together to get it done a couple of months earlier, knowing they'd be gone on deployment and successfully be able to hide them. So on the night of, after you've all come back home from a lovely dinner, they ask you to close your eyes for just a moment. You hear lots of rustling and some giggling from Soap and some hushing from Ghost and sharp, nervous exhales from both Price and Gaz. They give you the all-clear and you open your eyes to see them holding their already heavy erections to the side to show you the pretty jewelry. "For that pretty clit of yours," they say. "Now you'll have to tell us who uses it the best"