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sinfulscorchings · 8 months

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𝕗𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕦𝕡 . *. ⋆ 𝕛𝕠𝕙𝕟 𝕡𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕖

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ⋆ ᴊᴏʜɴ ᴘʀɪᴄᴇ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ⋆ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ꜱᴏ ᴇᴍᴘᴛʏ ᴀʟʟ ᴅᴀʏ. ᴊᴏʜɴ ʜᴇʟᴘꜱ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴅʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀɪʟᴍᴇɴᴛ.

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ⋆ ʙᴇᴡᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴍᴜᴛᴛʏ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴏʀᴀʟ ꜱᴇx (ᴍ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ), ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴏʀᴀʟ ꜰɪxᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴡʜɪᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴠᴇʀʏ ʜᴏʀɴʏ (ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ꜰʀ), ᴛᴏᴘ/ᴅᴏᴍ/ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴊᴏʜɴ ᴘʀɪᴄᴇ, ɪᴅʀᴋ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ʙᴇᴀʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ⋆ 2.7ᴋ

➼ ᴘᴏᴠ ⋆ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ

➼ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ ⋆ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ -ᴀʀɪᴀɴᴀ ɢʀᴀɴᴅᴇ, ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ - ꜱᴏɴᴅᴇʀ, ᴄᴀʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ - ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀʀɪᴀꜱ

⋆ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ꜱᴏʟᴇᴍɴʟʏ ᴀᴘᴏʟᴏɢɪᴢᴇ. ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ.

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 . *. ⋆

Your first day of work after the holiday season is like a douse of cold water over your body.

You’d spent your break on indulgences; staying

Especially since John has been home.

That morning at dawn when you began to stir awake you’d become acutely aware of his body pressed firm behind you, his mouth kissing down your neck and shoulder, practically begging as he mouthed into your skin that he wanted to feel you on his tongue. You gladly let him part your thighs and make you come once before you inevitably have to rise and get ready for work, unbeknownst the ache it would cause you as the day went on.

Since then, all you feel is empty. Incredibly, brutally empty .

The workday ends up melting and mushing into a blend of nonsensical demands from your boss, placid, gossipy chatter from your co-workers, and absentmindedly tapping at a keyboard and thumbing through cabinets until you’re able to return home. No doubt you could return at the end of the day and fall right into John’s arms again. But the day drags and drags and drags , and by the time you’re free, you sluggishly make your way back home without much excitement.

You arrive to a quiet house, the door locked and blinds shut as you turn on the light and slowly take off your shoes.

“John?” You call out, tilting your chin up as you wait for a response. As you get none, you huff and thump your feet as you walk to your bedroom and begin stripping yourself, rather carelessly, throwing your clothes onto the floor and pulling on lazy wear, rubbing your face and looking toward the window.

It’s barely evening, but the sun has already come down in favor of the cold, dark night. You frown and turn on a lamp before returning to the living room.

John’s dark figure with his legs leisurely spread on the couch makes you yelp. He’s positioned casually, holding a cigar that looks freshly lit between two fingers with a hand resting on his thigh, stare already placed on the door as though he was waiting for you to emerge out of it. You gaze quickly to your left toward the kitchen; two plastic bags that weren’t there before are on the counter, probably some snacks from the liquor store just down the street, you see his pretty blue eyes and watch him gently stroke his beard as he lets you process, then finally relax.

“Shit,” you sigh, smiling softly as you rake your eyes over his appearance, taking him in. “You scared me.”

He hums,

“Sorry, love,” he apologizes. You sigh and roll your eyes, paying no more mind as you walk over and wrap your arms around him, sighing gently as you finally feel his body pressed up against yours again.

“It’s okay,” you mutter into his skin, wrapping your arms around his waist. You don’t care for the feeling of his hand barely curling around your back so he could still hold his cigar or the fact he’s still wearing his jacket. Just getting to feel him again after such a long day is all you require.

John’s hand comes to softly brush your hair behind your ear, tracing the curve of your cheek with the back ever slowly, ever gently, before taking your chin between two fingers and pinching it until you look up into his eyes.

“There she is,” he rumbles.

The dark purr of his voice reminds you just how much you need him on a given day. Even more after feeling so void of his touch, his fingers, his tongue, his cock the whole damn day. You whine, melting into his touch and slumping your shoulders.

A grin makes the corners of his eyes scrunch together. He has his other hand resting on his thigh, a dimly lit cigar held tight, and you’re distracted by the sight that the feeling of his thumb on your bottom lip takes you back to his stare.

Your lips part. He presses his thumb past and without hesitation, you suck, slow and unrushed, and flutter your lashes.

John groans and adjusts his stance, nestling your calves on either side of his thighs so you sit curtly on his lap.

“Pretty girl,” he says, tongue darting out to lick his lips, and his thumb leaves your mouth, the slick you leave dribbling down your chin as he trails his hand down. “Talk to me.”

“I felt so empty all day,” you whine exasperated, as if you’d been holding your breath underwater and have finally come up for air. Your breath hitches again when you feel John’s hand slip past the leg hole of your sleep shorts and rubs his wet thumb over your clit. You whine.

“Aw, is that so, baby?” he probes gently, but there’s still that underlying tone of condescension like you’re just this helpless little thing in his arms. Well, you are , sort of; not that you’d say or admit such a thing. You swallow shallowly and nod.

“So empty.” his thumb rubs slow and deep and you buck your hips into it, aching for just a little more. His other hand gently guides yours to grip his shoulders, and you hold to him like an anchor. “‘Just need your cock to stretch me full. In my throat. Pussy. `don’t care.”

“Oh, you poor thing…” he coos, bringing your face closer to his. He leans in so slowly you barely even register that he’s parting his lips to kiss you, gently gliding his mouth over yours. His steady rubbing stops in favor of kissing you firm, and you furrow your eyebrows as you moan sweetly.

“John,” you mutter hot into his mouth.

He pulls away and grins.

“Alright, love,” his insistence to draw this out is no longer a tantalizing tease; it’s just frustrating. “`You want me to fill you up?”

You nod. His free hand, cigar still between two fingers, runs up and down your bare thigh.

“How about you get on your knees for me, then?”

You adamantly hop off of his lap and get into position below, letting your knees hit the floor firmly. John tuts and quickly rises, holding a small throw pillow to you.

“`Want you to be comfy.”

God, this man.

As you place the pillow on your knees you scoot closer to his inner thighs, hands hovering over his belt. He undoes it for you quicker than you would’ve, but he lets you take out his cock, warm and heavy in your hand, and you gently run a hand over it, thumb pressing to the tip.

With a groan, John’s hand grasps the base and leans forward to place it right at your bottom lip. Your hands curtly rest in your lap, gaze set up to his.

“Rub that little clit if you need to, love,” his voice is low, kindling and steady as the rest of his movements; he relaxes slightly as you remain watching and awaiting his next action, at ease with your submission. “Warm yourself up. Make yourself come if you need it.”

You whine and nod oh so softly, but he grunts; John wants a verbal answer.

“Do you understand?” He rumbles, low, threatening, a deep fire that sets off right in your cunt.

You answer obediently.

“Yes, John.”

“Good.” he relaxes fully into the cushions, barely gripping onto the base and letting it weigh heavy in the air, awaiting your touch. “Now go on. Get filled like you’ve been wanting to be.”

With his permission, you lean forward, grasping the base with one hand as you let your tongue flatten over the bottom and lick a long stripe to his tip. Your lips stay perfectly poised around him as you take your sweet time licking his length, languid as if you had no care in the world. John grunts deep in his throat, barely exhales, and leaves you with no large reaction. You lick a long stripe again, moaning softly as you feel his taste coat your tongue and flutter your eyelashes for extra measure. This time, he simply tilts his chin up and brings his hand up again, curling his lips around his cigar.

A pout droops your lip watching him act so casual and unbothered by any of your actions. You’ve seen him groan and roll his head back in full pleasure and satisfaction before; you’ve felt his hands curl around the back of your neck as he bucked his hips and fucked your face, feverishly close to his finish. But to see him act so casually as if he was watching a football game on the TV and not getting his cock worshipped by his loving girlfriend touches a nerve you didn’t even realize was exposed.

You jerk him forcefully, a little too tight and a little too fast, to try and get his attention. The only thing you get is a hum, and he taps the end of his cigar and lets some of the ash fall into his thigh, dangerously close to your hand. You look up at him; he isn’t looking at you.

“John.” Your words aren’t anything harsh or rude, just a calling to get his attention. His tongue darts out again to wet his bottom lip.

“Thought you wanted to get filled, love,” He quips back, tone harsher than normal as he brings the cigar to his lips, taking in a small puff and finishing his sentence as the smoke trails past his lips. “And I’m giving you opportunity to do just that.”

Well, his statement isn’t incorrect.

“I, I did–” You stammer, scooting your hips a little further. Your voice dies on your tongue as you watch him lock his jaw left and right, left and right, something that borders on disappointment storming in his eyes.

“I don’t understand why you’re demanding more, then,” it’s only a light scolding, could barely even be considered something worth being upset over, but it still makes your stomach uneasy and your headache and overthink with swelling disappointment. “`M giving you my cock to suck and to fill you up, what could be the matter?”

This bastard knows what the matter is. Not that your retorting would benefit you at all.

Wordlessly, you purse your lips together and give his tip a long, wet kiss, as an apology. John lightly grunts in approval.

“That’s better.”

It’s not long before the solemn feeling of hollowness crawls back up to you and you eagerly take him fully in your mouth. Your lashes flutter and you choke out a pleased sigh around his length, sinking further and further, fighting the urge to shut your eyes and just feel the sensation of his cock in your mouth, his bottom vein running against your tongue. But you keep them at least half-lidded to get a good look at the man you’re so piously sucking off.

Your hands grasp his base, firmly rolling your wrists over any part your mouth can’t reach without making yourself gag, breathy noises that border on just gargling as you get filled like you’ve been hoping to be the whole day.

Eventually, you pull away, but not very far as you press another kiss to the tip of his dick and lift it up to access his balls better, closing your lips over one with a little whine.

You look up again.

John continues to finish his cigar and absentmindedly watches the infomercial playing on the television, his gradually more apparent heavy breathing the only indicator you have any effect on him.

The sight isn’t as offensive as you’d thought it be. It’s almost arousing, seeing him pay no attention no matter what you do to him. As you cup one ball and suck on the other, you test his abrasion as you lightly, oh so lightly, run your teeth over the sensitive skin. Something throaty peeps past his lips. He clicks his tongue.

“That’s not a fair way to get my attention, love,” he tells you while a tense hand runs up and down his thigh, watching you still slobbering all over his balls. There’s a physical pout that downturns your mouth as you nod against him, switching over to take his other ball in your mouth and entirely dismissing any idea of trying to rouse his attention again.

Your hands come to stroke his cock while you finish soaking him in your spit.

The pool of heat between your legs gets to be too much. You slither your hand past the waistband of your panties and press your hand to your cunt, lazily rubbing your fingers through your folds. You have no goal to finish at this moment. You only need to satiate the aching need temporarily and get back to getting John to shoot his load right into your mouth and down your throat. The other remains steadily stroking him back and forth, pressing the pad of your thumb to his opening repeatedly when you reach his head.

You sigh pleasantly once again, finally feeling you’re filling that throbbing need for him you’ve had all day. Your hand strokes up and down once, twice, pressing to his tip once, twice, before you finally feel his hips buck slightly to your touch; at last, he gives you just a slimmer of a reaction.

“Good job,” He mutters, and you watch him rub his hand up and down his thigh again. Your mouth disconnects from his ballsac, leaving a trail of spit connecting you two as you position your mouth back to his cock. You keep his hand curled around, doing nothing with your mouth as you watch him bite his lip and look down at you.

“Are you close?” The question comes out way more desperate than you intend. John nods robotically, the hand once curled around his thigh coming back to lay at the back of the couch, puffing out his chest when he watches you take him in your mouth again, stuffing your mouth full until your nose brushes against the hair at the base.

“I am,” He confirms, chunky and gruff as he lifts his hips again to press you in further (you can’t really go much deeper at this point without his assistance, and you’re sure he wouldn’t give it to you tonight) before pressing his ass back down on the couch to allow you to do most of the work. “C’mon, girl. How about you finish me off?”

You don’t need to be requested twice. The hand slowly rubbing your folds and teasing your clit reaches out of your pants and cups his balls, running the pads of your fingers and the blunt ends of your trimmed nails over the tender skin while the other holds his base, acting as steady catalysts while you rock your mouth over his cock, slow enough you can take your time to appreciatively suckle at him when he’s inside fully.

That barely gets a grunt out of him. A gentle, ashamed purr as he tilts his chin down to get a better view. The slightest twitch of his thigh and a gentle brush of it against your cheek. All little, minuscule things that give you little indicators that he’s close to finishing.

When he does, there’s no warning; he takes a deep breath and holds it until you take him down to the base again, and you feel a sudden gush of creamy warmth hit the top of your mouth, tantalizingly close to your throat as he pulls his hips to you one last time, grunting softly. You whine gently, feeling your tongue coated with his warm, sweet finish, and you open your mouth to slowly slide your mouth off of his cock. His cum seeps past your lips, dripping slightly over your bottom lip, and you smile and let a drop drip onto your knee, legs still folded neatly.

John hums contently and leans forward, elbows pressed onto his thighs as he takes the side of your jaw in his hand and angles his thumb press to your mouth.

“Full?” He asks, smugly huffing softly as he rubs his spend onto your lips, smearing it on like some sort of chapstick. You smile brusquely and nod, posture blissfully lax while you press and pucker your lips together, feeling his cum spread over them.

“Thank you.”

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blondieeu · 5 months

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cinnamon. simon “ghost” r.

on a rare saturday night when it’s just you and him, laying on the couch watching some ratchet ass show you always watched together in the dark of your living room.

he’d just gotten home from deployment that thursday and you’d been meaning to watch that show that you saved strictly to watch with him— your show.

it’s late. he knows it. but you insist on watching this show together because you haven’t really had the time during the week and you didn’t wanna watch it without him.

so here the two of you lay, you with your head on his lap and him with his arm on the arm rest. spending time.

but when he looks down at you your eyes are fluttering shut and your quicker breaths slowing down to a calm rhythm.

“let’s get into bed.”

he says, voice a little raspy from not talking for a few hours and his accent still thick as he shuffled from his spot, tossing the blanket you to were sharing away while he moves to scoop you up.

“what? why? it’s saturday we still have time to watch our show”

he watches you rub the sleep from your eyes, but you don’t really try to fight him on it. you were too tired to.

“well watch it another time lovely.”

blondieeu xx

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thoughtdaughterdisease · 2 months

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Price and readers!daughter at Disney World headcanons

• i think you would plan the trip and everything, but he would be the most invested. always suggesting things he would think you and your daughter would like.

• once while you were riding the bus to animal kingdom, you caught him looks up "fun things to do at disney for a 5 year old girl." you never questioned him about what you saw; or when he lead you and your daughter to a safari almost immediately.

• though you have a stroller, he would constantly be carrying your daughter, letting her sit on his shoulders so she can see everything from his height.

• one day maybe you're not feeling so good, so you stay back at the hotel and Price takes your daughter to Magic Kingdom.

• When they come back to the hotel your daughter would be in a full hair and costume of her favorite disney princess. He had ended up bringing her to the bippity boppity boutique after some begging (practically none, he might as well have suggested it himself).

• if there are any rides that your daughter wants to go on but you don't, Price is volunteering immediately, anything to make his princess happy.

•if it starts raining while you're at one of the parks, you'll all be bundled in ponchos under a overhang of a restaurant, until your daughter slips her hand out of yours to spin and twirl in the rain.

• Price would chuckle, kiss the side of your head before jogging (carefully, he is still a old man) out to join her, skipping around in a circle with her. anything for his princess.

• waiting for the buses at the end of a long day, your daughter starts crying because she's tired. She's inconsolable, until Price gets his hands on her, he hugs her to his chest while she gets into the shoulder of his shirt, bouncing her and rubbing her back.

• "it's okay sweet girl, shh"

"'m tired, johnny."

"i know, sweet girl, i know."

• once y'all are finally on a bus, your daughter would finally sleep asleep, small fists clutching Price's shirt.

• One of his arms would be holding your daughter to his chest and the other would rest on the back of your chair; playing with your hair. And then it turns into a pillow when you fall asleep to his ministrations.

a/n: this is my first headcanon piece so pls bare with me, i wrote this while on a bus to my hotel from magic kingdom and saw a dad with his baby girl sleeping in his arms and i just had to write it with price

#john price #price #captain price #cod #cod headcanons #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod ghost #cod mw2 x reader #ghost cod #cod x reader #cody rhodes #cod mw3 #soap cod #cod oc #single!mom

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enderfenderdragon · 5 months

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you have no idea/i wont be messing with you anymore.

request open for anyone :D.

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warnings:readers parents divorce, mention of world war 2, fem!reader, she/her pronouns, ghost x reader, reader gets hit on, reader gets into a fight, ghost being protective, drunk dipshits (drunk guys), use of 'y/n'.

let me know if i missed anything :D.

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background on the reader (you).

your grandfather was the chief/general/very high person in world war 2. but after the war, he retired, and spent most of his time with reader (you). you and your grandfather were the best of friends. you spent your childhood with your grandparents because your parents were going through 'something' (divorce).

so while reader was growing up - she was taught the ways of the war and the ways of being a living, killing machine. your grandfather is still around, and you do spend time with him when ghost/Simon is on deployment.

but the thing is, you didn't tell or let Simon know that you were brought up as a killing machine by the general of world war 2.

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you were walking out of a bar with some girlfriends (close friends), from your 'girls night'. but were abruptly stopped by some guys hooting on you.

"hey pretty ladies" guy 1 stumbles up to your group. most likely drunk off his ass.

your friends get in front of you. most likely trying to stop you from being seen so you don't get rilled up and kill the men.

"why don't you guys come with us?" guy 2 walks some what sober to your group.

"whats going on?" you speak up from the back of the group.

"nothing babe....just.....getting hit on by drunk dipshits" the 'mom' of the group friend speaks to you in a comforting way.

"ooooo got a little teeny tiny baby back there?" guy 1 slurs his speak. leaning towards your group.

"the fuck you say?" you quip back. squeezing through the group. stopping in front of guy 1.

"y/n. don't. please." your friends all say in unison. looking horrifed.

the guys crowd around you. looking you up and down. slurring their speak while saying their dirty, disgusting thoughts about what 'they were going to do to you'.

"call Simon." one of your friends say to another. she rushes to get her phone out, quickly taps on Simons contact and calls.

"whaz up?" Simons voice speaks through the phone

"we've got a problem, y/n is being hit on" your friends says to Simon through the phone.

the phone call ends without anything else being said.

------

few minutes later Simons car is seen pulling next to the curb.

"thank god your here. we can't seem to settle her down" the 'mom' says to Simon. already climbing into the truck.

Simons eyes are blown wide as he watches you beat all of the guys up. leaving them laying on the road, all blooded up and briused.

"oh hey babe" you say releasing guy 1 from a head lock. his lifeless body tumbles onto the road. the truck was right behind you.

you climb into the passenger side and peck Simon on his cheek. his eyes still blown wide.

"what? something happen?" you ask, starting to get worried.

"since when did you be able to do that?" he asked in a high picked voice compared to his normal voice. it seeming as though it was normal for you to beat people up on a regular basis to the girls.

"ohhhhhhhh. you mean me beating them up" you mention towards the 'dead' bodies.

"yes?" Simon asks looking worried.

"oh yeah- me grandfather was in world war 2 and he taught me the ways of being a killing machine. don't worry" you say nonchalant.

"r-right. noted. remind me to never get on your bad side" Simon says, turning his body so its facing the road.

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maxismp1 · 5 months

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I need help finding a fic!!

It was long time ago and idk if I reblog but it was sum like this

Reader was a creature, the 141 associated her by crows.

Thwy would go to cteppy places for missions and get the warnings by crows

One was with one of the boys in a chapel and the reader being like "confess your sins"

HELPPP

#cod mw2 #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #konig cod #cod mwfii #ghost cod #cody rhodes #task force 141 #tf 141 #141 x reader #cod 141 #captain john price #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #price x gaz

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deathdovesong · 1 year

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Got my latest pieces from @journen !!! Love them so much!

#cod mw2 #the brain rot is real #i really do go here now #i blame journen #for it all #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley

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the-writer-in-the-winter-forest · 1 year

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Maybe it's because I'm on a military kick/kink right now. But I so badly want to say, in the most casual way possible,

"Take your clothes off,"

to the following,

Clone Force 99

Almost every Clone in The GAR

The Men of 141

No, I won't elaborate...it is not needed in this instance.

Good day to you.

Make some fanfiction out of that one line! I dare ya! (politely, of course)🩵

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nhyhu · 2 years

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posting my ghost doodles

#cat ear ghost is very neat :)#simon ghost riley #cod mw22 #ghost mw2 fanart #i have no idea how to tag this #i watched like 5 hours of cod i don't even like the military #im super anti war/ military and yet???? soap &ghost #was talking to journen about how there are so many cody/wan artists who are also now drawing them #fun fact i havent drawn soap yet bc im scared of drawing his mohawk :(#yk that post that like yeah guns and swords are bad irl but they are cool as fuck yeah thats me rn #like this applies to tact gear too but also tact gear and mechs are basically the definition of form follows function how can i not #nhyhu.art

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journen · 1 year

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The Gilded Reaper Ghost skin is so extra™️. Imagine standing next to him dressed like that… lol.

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xenzou · 6 months

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Bow down to your king <3

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iaminsane-blog · 2 years

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Little Lady, Big Guns

hope you like chapter/part 4 :)

Bzzz, bzzzz.

A pounding headache had reached the forefront of my head, nearly blinding me from the small rays of sunshine peaking through the blinds. My whole body seemed to slightly ache but most of the pain was concentrated on my lower back and…butt? As I went to massage the tense muscles my hand was met with a film of plastic. My instincts screamed and I jumped out of bed immodestly shoving my pajama pants to my ankles and eyeing the plastic area. There in small but bold ink just below my hip read “Gun Girl of 141” with a small poorly drawn clipart of a pistol. A deep laugh emerged from my throat as tears began rolling down my cheeks from laughing so hard. This was definitely one for the books. My room was messier than I remember leaving it and my small clock on the desk read 11:42. Shit, even though it was technically a weekend I still had to get something productive done. I slipped into a blue dress with small white flower designs and fixed your self up before heading out the door.

After sending my final email I finally got the chance to sit back and breath. The day wasn’t stressful however there had been a lack of large army men to lighten your hangover. And so I withdrew from my office and made my way to Price’s office hoping for a new assignment. Price however wasn’t in his usual chair and so you went to the next possible place, the meeting room. It was there that well all of 141 resided.

“Vera thank the lord, I was loosing braincells with these knuckle heads. I’ve got a task for you”

Price’s voice had alerted the guys who stood seemingly also hungover. Soap stood with a stupid toothy grin, he had to have known about my tattoo discovery this morning. I gave Price and nod and squirmed my way between soap and ghost, sitting on the conference table and swinging my legs.

“we need customized gear and weapons for a mountain of a man think you could do that?”

I raised my hand in a small salute, giving a mock serious expression.

“Sir yes sir, but please inform me why this guy cant fit into standard issued clothes?”

Soap nudged Ghost and gave him a sly grin which ghost only ignored, however I could see his eyes scanning me through my peripheral.

“Well here he comes in”

My eyes drifted to the entrance of the room where a very very tall bulky figure ducked to walk underneath the doorway. As he came into the light the first thing that caught my eye was the absolute unit this guy was, completely massive in height and muscle. He had a large once white but now slight grey cloth snippers hood draped across his face. Two eye holes had been cutout however he had eye black smeared around his eyes. His eyes shifted all over the room. I let out a breathy “gawd damn” under my breath but apparently it was loud enough to warrant a gaze from Ghost. His eyes seemed to sharpen and he returned his gaze to the man, his jaw tense with annoyance. The huge man held his hand out and waved to both Soap and Ghost and then his eyes settled on me. He approached further and held out his hand to mine, and I let my small hand slip to his much larger hand and broke the silence.

“My name is Vera, I’ll be your designer.”

“I am König, thank you for helping me.”

I used his hand to pull myself up off the table and craned my head to look up at him, he seemed miles away. My mouth pulled into a wide smile and from miles away König’s eyes had widened.

“You’re all seeing this right? I’m 5’1 on a good day and König you are?” “Around 182 centimeters or um..6 foot 10?”

His heavily thickened accent made my smile widen as I gestured to the two of us to the rest of the group.

“Finally Price a challenge! König you and me will get along just fine.”

His eyes seemed to reflect happiness although I really couldn’t tell under his sniper hood, the masked men are the hardest to read.

“Thank you team, y’all are dismissed.”

I started to turn to walk out the door but Soap stopped me short waving a small cell phone in front of my face. The screen illuminated a picture of me, splayed on a tattoo artist’s chair my pants pulled down slightly to expose skin to the tattoo artist who sat concentrated. My face was twisted in a Cheshire Cat grin and I held up a small peace sign. I snatched the phone from Soap’s hand to get a closer look.

“Soap that is a sick photo here König look.”

I shoved the phone into his hand and for a second he blanked out. Perhaps from being drawn into a conversation so abruptly , however he still brought the phone to his eye line. And when he did his eyes immediately shot to the ceiling as his eyes widened.

“That is a very cool photo”

Was all he said as he handed the phone back his eyes still adverted away. It was comical the way König was, standing rigid above all of us. I gave the phone back to Soap with a grin on my face.

“Please send that to me, thats priceless. But me and König should probably go start on designing, See y’all at lunch.”

As I began to walk away I noticed heavy footsteps behind me, but for every step I took theirs were doubled. And soon König was walking right next to me. Let’s see where this goes.

“and that is 35 inches across, let me just get here real quick”

I had been taking König’s measurements for about an hour and still had a few more to go. His large body meant large measurements which would explain why my largest gun appeared like a rifle in his hands. He had started to warm up to me, his body growing less and less rigid. I stepped down from my step stool and looked at my page of measurements, there was only a couple left thankfully.

“König these last few measurements are gonna be awkward if you acknowledge it, best thing to do is to ignore me.”

His eyes twisted with slight confusion and his shoulders raised slightly.

“Whatever you need to do Vera”

I nodded and got down onto my knees and took my thin measuring tape, first wrapping it around his waist, and moving down to wrap it around the largest part of his thighs.

“Tell me König what’s your favorite animal?”

König’s gaze had remained forward facing but he still leaned his head slightly down.

“Well to look at perhaps a peacock but to pet I love cats”

His voice was soft and low almost as if he was afraid to speak too loud. I moved my measuring tape to measure the length from the front seam of his crotch to the waistband of his backside. I kept talking in hopes to release any tension or awkwardness.

“You know there’s this old Russian cartoon called Маша и медведь, or Masha and the bear.”

I finished my measurements and gestured to myself then him.

“Masha ergo the bear.”

I gave him a wild smile to invite friendliness and thankfully he let out a deep giggle that made his eyes shut.

“Zat is a good one, that is our uh pet names.”

I’m pretty sure he meant nicknames but I didn’t correct him, might as well let him have it.

“Okay and we’re done with measurements finally, lastly do you have any preference in style or color?”

His eyes darted slightly to his covered arms and then they locked to mine.

“I would prefer long sleeves and dark colors.”

I didn’t pry why but instead nodded and scribbled down notes, setting my notebook down on my desk. I brushed my hands off and grabbed my intercom.

“What do you say we get lunch with the other guys?”

König nodded and waited for me to exit the room first before following me down the hall.

“I fear Ghost does not like me all that much.”

I meant to wonder it out loud but instead let it come out. König’s head peered down at me and he his eyes shifted slightly.

“Ghost just needs time to warm up to people, especially new people.”

“What was he like when you first met him?”

“He would never admit it but I think he was intimidated, thought I might replace him as the mysterious masked man. But that was not the case and we are friends now, i hope”

I gave a hum in my throat and pulled down my dress slightly before we walked into the cafeteria, no free show today. Although the lunch line was practically empty the cafeteria was filled to the brim with every liutendent and private on the base. König stood next to me scanning the crowd, his height gave him a large advantage on spotting the table first. Konig placed a large hand on my shoulder and gently guided me to the table that was conveniently in the middle of the cafeteria. As we approached the group they seemed to quiet down at König and I’s presence for whatever reason. It seemed that the short steel table only had one seat left, next to Ghost. And his gaze was focused on König or rather König’s hand on my shoulder. I had started to eye Konig but he had already gestured for me to sit.

“König come on you can take the sea-“

“Please Vera you have been on your feet all day.”

And yes he was right and my feet had started to ache, oh god might as well. I took the seat next to Ghost and König stood near the front of the table, setting down his tray but picking up his plate. The tattoo has started to burn slightly making me squirm in my seat.

“Something bothering you?”

It was Ghost who had asked not anybody else.

“Yeah my tattoo from last night hurts like a mother, I don’t remember getting it how drunk was I?” Soap and Gaz shared a look and a grin at each other from across the table.

“You were trying to fist fight all of us because we tried to get you into the car and at one point you swung missed and fell straight on your face”

I let out a laugh and so did the rest of the group even König let out a chuckle.

“So that’s why my face hurts, go figure.”

i started eating my food but felt a set of eyes on me, I turned up to König but he was preoccupied with his own plate. Instead i shifted to my right to meet face to face with Ghost. His eyes were softer than usual and they scanned my face, i was waiting for him to say something but he didn’t.

“Do I have something on my face?”

His features softened even more but he just chuckled and shook his head letting out a breathy.

“No”

I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion, the enigma that is Ghost continues to get more eccentric. If only he could take off that stupid mask and show his emotions, maybe then I would relate to him. I sighed and pushed some of my food around, my appetite seemingly disappearing. I took my packaged muffin and gave it a once over not my cup of tea, I looked up to König who had just finished his plate.

“Hey медведь, want my muffin?”

He peered down at me and took the muffin from my hand, his hand slightly brushing mine.

“Danke Masha”

“пожалуйста”

I gave him a smile and turned to the rest of the table who had grown eerily silent yet again. The eyes of Soap, Gaz, Graves and even Ghost bore slightly into my own.

“You’re Russian?”

It was Soap who had spoke, his face twisted slightly into a face between confusion and slight anger. My confidence wavered upon seeing his emotion.

“Polish but I speak the language”

It seemed like a large breath of relief and the tension was gone in an instant.

“Thank god”

It was Graves who spoke from his end of the table going back to shoving soup into his mouth.

“And if I was Russian? Would you guys resent me?” While the rest of the room was booming with conversation our table grew silent yet again, the ego of these guys.

“Just because you had a bad expierence with one person doesn’t define the group.”

Its not that I was mad at them ,more disappointed that they judged so quickly. I get it they had to fight off Russians, but that doesn’t mean they can hate a whole nationality for it.

“She’s right”

Ghosts deep voice penetrated the silence, and thank god it did I had to get back to work.

“Thanks Ghost, shit I gotta get back, catch ya later team.”

I stood up taking my tray and exited from the side, brushing past König slightly. But before I could walk away his hand caught my arm, and pulled my attention to him. He cocked his head to the side slightly as if asking me “are you ok?” I gave him a smile and nodded, and he released my arm.

At the table

As they watched her walk away Konig turned back to the group, nobody could see the slight blush across his cheeks under his mask.

“König swear to god you’re gonna be the one to cuff her, lucky bastard.”

Gaz had begun to violent poke his food while talking to the whole group.

“Cuff her?”

Konig’s accent had warranted an eye roll from Ghost who suddenly got up and carried his tray.

“Ghost is jealous, he can’t stand the fact that you’re taller than him. lets hope for your sake Vera likes tall men.”

All the guys except Konig let out a stifled laugh at that and they all went back to their meals and individual conversations.

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