#i always end up making gaz vanilla he is not a dog like the rest of them lmao

[ghostedbunnie]

training with tf141

tw: dubcon-ish?, everyone is nasty but gaz

(nsfw under the cut!)

GHOST barks orders and expects you to follow and when you don't follow them fast enough he makes you -- kicking your feet further apart so your stance is more solid, breathing down your neck while his big gloved hands cover yours to adjust how you're holding the gun. he can hear the hitch of your breath, feel the tremble of your body when his body comes into contact with yours and you can't see the wolfish grin under his mask. you can't see all the downright filthy thoughts he has about the curve of your ass when you bend down.

but you'll know soon enough, after your training ends and you excuse yourself to go shower, he follows watching you take off your clothes showcasing his willpower not to jump you right there but that all vanishes as soon as he hears you groan after the water hits your sore muscles, manhandling you into a corner.

"spread y'r legs just like I taught ya. practice makes perfect, luv."

JOHNNY was waiting to get you on the mat for ages now. finally he can have his hands all over you without worrying about boundaries (not like he ever really does). you could swear he groped your ass few times when you were rolling around on the mat trying to get the upper-hand over the Scot who is thoroughly enjoying your struggles, who let's you push him over few times just to grab your thighs and roll his hips up into yours to see your eyes widen. after he's riled up enough he ends up pushing you down onto the mat from behind holding on your hands down, his other arm is wrapped around your throat not really putting any pressure on simply pushing you back into him where his hard-on is straining against your ass.

"ye put up a good fight, bonnie, lemme treat ye a bit, aye?"

PRICE can hold his own really well, wouldn't be alive for so long if he couldn't but his expertise has always been tactics so he drills the basics into you. sitting you down at a table to give you some possible scenarios and see how you deal with them, making you sweat when he stands behind you hands crossed over his barrel chest with his sleeves rolled up over his forearms. your heart almost jumps out of your chest when he leans over you, hand resting on the back of your neck the other on the table next to you to see your marks on the map and suddenly you can't think about anything else but the woodsy smell that washes over you. after he's satisfied with the lesson, he looks into your eyes with the irises blown out from the need building up in you and he let's out a soft almost mocking laugh before he pushes the map and other documents off the table to make space for you.

"good thing the walls are soundproof, innit? let it all out, that's a good girl."

GAZ is pretty much a tech whiz, he knows his way around and he is a really good teacher. he can explain even the most complicated issues with easy, making it actually make sense so you can feel the progress you're making by working with him. but when he scoots the chair closer to yours with the excuse of not seeing the code well and his thigh is touching his own and he throws you a charming smile your concentration vanishes. you can feel his stare on your face instead of your computer screen but when you turn your head you can never catch him looking but you can still feel the stare almost as a touch caressing all the way to your exposed collarbones. it gets worse when you absentmindedly chew on your pen and Gaz ends up resting his hand on your thigh high enough that your heart rate spikes.

"let's take a break? little distraction might be nice, no thinking involved."

[empressaraceli1992]

Writing Prompt

I think in order to make Ghost like a new teammate without him inadvertently killing them in a sparring match - Price would get him used them through Soap. Kinda like you get a dog acclimated to a new baby using scent/sound.

The Banshee and The Ghost

Prologue (kinda)

It started with a scent. Vanilla and Sandlewood, a cloying, sweet scent that hovered in random corners of the base.

Ghost had always been sensitive to smell - Soap's axe body wash gave him a migraine until the Scot realized it and kindly switch to a less revolting Irish Spring body wash - but this, this was new. Ghost liked this scent, not wear, but to have. It comforted him. But where was it coming from?!

He knew none of the 141 wore anything like that. Perhaps it was a new recruit? The majority of them - however briefly Ghost interacted with them - all smelled like generic commissary items. It was like whoever had the scent was avoiding him.

They would leave pockets of their scent outside his door, in the canteen, the gym - it was driving him mad.

Then he smelt it ON Soap.

A transfer of scents. The Sergeant was going to tell him who this scent belonged to or Ghost might very well stick a knife in him.

---------‐-------------------

Ghost cornered Soap in the canteen. The Sergeant had settled next to Gaz chatting away about this new recruit or that. Ghost grabbed his own tray and sat down right next to Soap - startling the Sergeant out of his conversation.

"Hey L.T.," Soap gave him a toothy grin. "You finally going to join us for a meal?"

Soap was exaggerating. Ghost ate dinner with them when it was just the 141. Lunch he preferred to eat alone in his room out of sight of the curious new recruits. But Ghost let it slide with a noncommittal hum. Lifting the bottom of his mask to rest over the bridge of his nose he tucked in while Soap and Gaz continued their earlier conversation.

"So how's training with Ba- ow!" Gaz glared at Soap. Soap had none too subtly kicked Gaz in the shin. Ghost pretend not to notice when Soap glanced at him. Soap relaxed a bit at that, leaning closer to Ghost by mistake. Ghost caught the tell-tale scent he had been chasing.

It was faint, as though Soap had brushed against the true owner of the scent and carried that small piece with him. Ghost resisted the urge to lean in and inhale - to pick apart the scent mixed with Soap's musk and Irish Spring. The scent definitely wasn't the Sergeant's, but it was thick enough for Ghost to gage that Soap had been in the vicinity of the scent for a good length of time.

"Training is as boring as ever Gaz, you know that." Soap quipped, trying to steer the conversation into safer waters. "So, L.T. how are things on your end?"

Ghost gave Soap a look, his fork hovering just outside his mouth. Lowering his fork, slowly, Ghost leaned into Soap's personal space.

"Busy." He growled. "Hunting, mostly." He offered vaguely. Soap's brows shot up.

"Hunting what L.T." Soap tried to laugh. It came out more like a cough. "Not many deer here." Ghost let the comment slide too. He didn't want to give Soap a reason to run. Yet...

Settling back he shrugged and continued his meal. Soap swallowed - giving Gaz a nervous look. Gaz took that as his que to leave, and quietly excused himself from the table.

"Bloody bampot!" Soap hissed as the other Sergeant waved goodbye. Soap gave Ghost a furtive glance. He knew he was in trouble. Good.

"Mind telling me why you smell like that?" Ghost kept his voice low, dangerous.

"Smell like w-what L.T.?" Soap tried to play it off shoveling some food into his mouth.

"Vanilla and Sandlewood aren't you're thing, Johnny." Ghost growled. "This scent has been lingering all over the base, but you're the only one who smells like they've come in contact with it."

"Could just be a scented candle, L.T." Soap offered, poorly. "You know how the recruits are, always messing around. They don't know how sensitive to smell ye are."

"No," Ghost hummed. "THEY don't, but you do Johnny. You know what happens when you lie to me..."

"Aw come on L.T.!" Soap balked. "I have orders from Price. I dianne want to do it, but he dianne want you getting upset."

Price. Ghost should have known. The overbearing fatherly nature of the Captain often got the better of him when it came to his "boys". Price knew Ghost's reputation better than anyone - knew he didn't take kindly to new members ever. It had taken months and a shit storm in Las Elmas for Ghost to like Soap - to care for him as a brother, and encompasse him in the raging shield that was The Ghost.

Price must really like whoever this new member is if he hadn't introduced them right away. Ghost could see the principal of using Soap as a go between to help Ghost acclimate to the new teammate.

The last time Price had just introduced a new member it was Konig from KorTac. Ghost immediately hated that Konig was bigger, possibly stronger. He didn't like the idea of the team dynamics changing - and it had to a near fatal sparring match between the two colossus. Thankfully, Konig - though just as dangerous - had social anxiety and after their initial attempt at killing each other Soap had forced them into a room together. The three of them became fast friends after that - as much of a friendship as Ghost could offer.

Ghost had a soft spot for Johnny, so it made sense - but the scent was driving him insane. He was a grown man for God's sake. He wouldn't kill the new guy because he smelled different! What he did after demanding a sample of the scent he couldn't say, but that was beside the point. He needed to see Price.

Dumping the rest of his tray Ghost made a bee-line for the Capitan's office. He ignored the startled look Soap gave him as he scrambled to keep up.

Price was alone in his office, cigar clamped between his teeth, as he worked on some report or other. Ghost didn't even bother knocking. He simply entered, and shut the door quietly behind him. A moment later there was a tentative knock.

"Come in." Price gruffed around his cigar, ignoring Ghost's piercing glare. Soap stepped in nervously shutting the door behind him. Price looked between them. "Couldn't keep him in the dark for a few more days Soap?" Price sighed flicking ash into the dish on his desk.

"I tried to warn ye sir." Soap said dejected. "Ghost dianne like surprises. He could smell her."

Ghost's mind latched on to that tidbit. Her? Was Price concerned because the new teammate was a woman? Ghost had never known the Captain to treat anyone any differently because of their sex. There were fewer female recruits than male, sure, but Price made a point to treat them equally. Until now.

"Go ask her for a token." Price took a drag from his cigar. Soap nodded ducking back out of the office. Only then did Price turn to his Lieutenant. "You can't meet her, so don't look for her, until your wheels up in three days."

"You know I don't work with people I don't trust." Ghost snapped.

"I know." Price agreed. Stubbing out his cigar. the Captain leaned back steepling his fingers. "She treats Soap like a little brother." He offered. "Soap has taken a shine to her, and he believes you will too, but - " Price held up a hand cutting off Ghost's retort. "You two are too strong. I won't have you kill each other on base like you nearly did to Konig. You'll meet on equal footing on the mission."

Soap reentered the office, a small cloth - a hancerchief? - in his hand. Soap offered the hancerchief to Ghost. The Lieutenant took it, carefully enclosing it in his fist. He would bring it to his face later.

"I want a name."

Price and Soap exchanged a look.

"Her callsign is 'Banshee'." Soap said.

"You will meet her in three days, Ghost." Price's voice was hard. "Do not tear up my base until then."

Ghost nodded. Without waiting to be dismissed he left the office. He ignored everyone until he got to his room and locked the door.

Yanking off his baklava he lifted the hancerchief to his face. The scent was staggering. He could smell the bits of vanilla and Sandlewood he caught earlier, but there was a spiciness to it too. There was even an underlying muskiness to it, her scent beneath it? So she had kept this on her body, she hadn't just given it to Soap with a scent, but HER scent.

It was intoxicating, soothing. Ghost couldn't put it into words. The scent reminded him of things he couldn't quite remember - a safe place to lay his head, a warm touch, a gentle comfort. Whatever Price wanted Ghost doubted he could wait three days to find the owner of THIS.

Growling to himself Ghost put the handkerchief into his pocket and flung himself into his desk chair. He had to work or he would tear the base apart. Brick by brick. Absently, he found himself pulling the handkerchief out and smelling it as he worked. It was going to be a long three days...