#modern warefare

[sterifels-blog]

simon "ghost" riley

The first time Simon saw your boyfriend, he knew.

Oh, he knew. Not in that “you’re too good for him” way you half-expected your protective, burly best friend to behave. No, Simon hated him with a ferocity so immediate, so visceral, it made his blood hum a little sharper. He didn’t just hate him. He despised him. Abhorred him. Wanted to roll his sleeves up and grate him into the damn carpet with the sheer force of his forearms alone. And if that wasn’t enough, he wanted to spend the rest of his natural-born life proving to you (and to himself, if we’re being honest) that he was better.

Tighter shirts. The flex of his fists when your boyfriend spoke in that grating voice Simon privately referred to as "discount Casanova." The subtle, almost casual cracks of his knuckles whenever the man dared to open his mouth about you in any way that wasn’t pristine worship. Every time your boyfriend laughed at you instead of with you, Simon would let out a low, bone-chilling chuckle of his own— a rumbling thing, gravelly and sharp, because he wasn’t laughing at all.

And then there was that one night.

It wasn’t like Simon was trying to hover. He wasn’t. He didn’t need to be your babysitter. You were strong, capable, smarter than everyone Simon had ever met— except, apparently, when it came to that bloody waste of oxygen you called a boyfriend. But when he saw the way your smile dimmed just a little too much at something the guy said, the way your fingers tightened around your glass as if to crush it, something ancient and primal roared inside Simon’s chest.

He stayed behind when you went home. Watched the fool stagger out into the night like a walking bad decision. Simon followed him with the quiet, measured gait of a shadow given form—leather jacket snug over his frame, boots heavy, but silent as sin.

Simon wasn’t poetic about what happened next. He didn’t need to be. There was no artistry in the precise, methodical lesson he taught your boyfriend in a dim alleyway under a broken porch light. (Broken now, thanks to your boyfriend's skull, if Simon were feeling particularly cheeky about it.) He made sure the man knew exactly why he was being "affectionately" restructured. And when the lesson ended, Simon left without a single word but with a vivid reminder that would stick for weeks:

stay the hell away.

The next morning, your boyfriend broke up with you via text message. A single line of lukewarm cowardice you barely had time to process before Simon was at your door, arms laden with snacks, beer, and the sweater you always stole anyway.

You curled up next to him on the couch, face half-hidden in the collar of that massive gray hoodie, and let out an exhausted sigh. Your voice was soft when you mumbled- sniffling with a stuffy nose from your previous sobs, “I just don’t get it, Si. I thought he cared..”

Simon didn’t answer right away, gaze fixed on the screen as Finding Nemo played in the background—a film you’d insisted on because you needed something light and harmless. Of course, to Simon, it wasn’t harmless at all. He frowned as Marlin yelled at Dory, the tiny blue fish babbling nonsense with frantic, short-term determination.

“'Course he didn’t care. Idiot didn’t even notice he was playing chicken with a shark,” Simon finally muttered, his deadpan delivery laced with something so dry you almost didn’t catch it.

You looked up, confused. “Huh?”

“Forget your boyfriend,” Simon said, tone flat as a blade. “This is why I don’t swim. Can’t trust anything with gills. Bloody sharks, jellyfish, clownfish...all useless. Why d’you think they call it Finding Nemo? Should’ve named it Simon Was Right: Stay Out of the Water.”

You snorted, unable to help yourself, and Simon glanced down at you, lips quirking upward just enough to show the barest hint of satisfaction.

And there it was. That warmth. That comfort. Simon didn’t need to say it, didn’t need to spell it out for you in big, stupid letters. You could see it in the way his arm stayed firm around your shoulders, in the way he made sure your blanket covered your toes, in the way his ridiculous commentary on Finding Nemo somehow made you feel whole again.

Yeah. You'd find your own way to thank him later.

[iloveghostfromcod]

me bringing it up IRL

[uhohdad]

(18+) John Price x Reader - Spanking ♡

WARNING: NON-CONSENSUAL THEMES

John Price absolutely believes in corporal punishment :(

If you’re acting like a brat, he’ll remedy it by throwing you over his knee, holding you tight while you try and squirm away. Locking you down with a sturdy arm over your waist and a leg slung over the back of your knees as you thrash and throw demands you’re in no position to be making.

“What are you doing?! Stop it!”

“Oh no, sweetheart, you’ve been begging for this.”

He’s not afraid to manhandle you, roughly yanking your pants down to your thighs and bunching your panties up to expose your plush ass to him.

The first open palm strike that lands makes you gasp, intensifying the kicking and writhing in his unforgiving grip. He doesn’t fold, keeping you steady with a rigid hold to give you a matching handprint on the other side.

“It’ll be easier for everyone involved if you just let it happen.”

His hits aren’t too painful, but they are hard enough to leave behind a stinging bite that compounds with each strike. John knows it’s not just about the pain - it’s about the humiliation of being bent over his knee with your pretty panties and ass on display, knowing anyone in the vicinity could very well hear your embarrassing punishment. It’s a clear reminder of who’s in charge and what will happen if you step out of line again - that back talk will not be tolerated, because all you are to him is a little girl who doesn’t know her place.

“Cap-Captain!”

“S’okay. You need this.”

His hardened, experienced palm has no problem navigating your squirms, landing his slaps to the height of your ass without fail, alternating sides to make sure he leaves you with an even burn.

You sputter and squeak hit after hit, the repeated, intimidating crack of flesh-on-flesh echoing throughout his office. The crease of your middle is forced against his thigh and your body lurched forward under the force of each increasingly strict swat. His disciplined and evenly-timed strikes have you braced for the next impact before it even lands. You find yourself fighting the pain instead of him, your hands scratching at his legs and your thighs wriggling to expel the stinging sensation his hands bring.

“There we go, that’s it. No need to fight it. You know you needed it.”

His smacks have steadily turn merciless, the pain of his stern hands much harder to swallow. His pace quickens, giving you less time to recover between the burn of each relentless swat. While you’re choking on your own gasped breaths and the broken high-pitched whines coaxed from your throat, you finally give into him. Submitting to his will and lulled by his rhythmic strikes, your mind gone blank, unable to focus on anything other than the next anticipated bite of his unyielding hands.

Reduced to a drooling, limp, sobbing mess splayed across his thighs, his free hand no longer keeping you from thrashing, but offering soothing rubs on your back as he rounds out his final harsh smacks, each sure to elicit a cry and leave behind a handprint. A tender hand follows his last hit, smoothing over your welted backside while you whimper over his lap.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, you’re all done.”

You can’t find it in your right mind or your trembling limbs to pull yourself up anytime soon, but John forgivingly fixes your panties for you, his careful fingers brushing across your warmed, punished ass before he gently tugs your pants back up. He gives calming, feather-light strokes over your sore backside, waiting patiently for you to find your bearings.

You can’t look at him once you slowly bring yourself to a sit, tears welled in your eyeline and your face just as warm as the evidence of your punishment. When he prompts an embrace, though, you all but throw yourself into his arms, burying your burning face into his chest while he holds you tight in his strong arms. From your hiding spot, his words are just a vibration against your cheek.

“Are you my good girl now?”

When you give a silent nod into his shirt, he hums in approval, tracing his fingers up and down your back until you’ve calmed down. He makes you promise him you’ll behave before he sends you on your way with a gentle pat on your backside and your pride in his reddened palm.

John will pretend he didn’t notice the puddle of arousal that stained your pretty panties after your spanking, so long as you pretend you didn’t notice the strain in his pants that had been flush against your side from the moment he put you over his lap. ♡

♡ UHOHDAD’S DRABBLE MASTERLIST ♡

[ghouldtime]

Who was going to tell me that Captain John Price is ONLY THIRTY EIGHT

(I am talking about reboot Price for reference as he seems to be the most popular one)

I'm not making this up

I am floored, I am stunned

I swear to anything I thought he was late 40's early 50's but NOPE

Everyone writes him like he's one good breeze away from falling down the stairs and being in a nursing home. HE'S THIRTY EIGHT???

I'm still calling him peepaw irregardless cause it's funny but I'm losing my mind

For the record thirty eight isn't that old y'all. I'm so tired of people pretending like it is. That's not even fully middle aged. A lot of the COD men are middle aged to just about. Ghost is likely mid to upper thirties possibly around 40, Captain Price is (apparently) 38, König is likely upper thirties to mid 40's (he's probably in his 40's tbh), Keegan is 35, and the list goes on and on. The youngest would be Gaz (who is a bit older than Soap iirc) and Soap who is 26. A lot of operators will be close to if not middle aged, especially higher ranking ones

Let me have my middle age men. You can pry them from my cold, dead hands. I beg of you stop making them younger just for the sake of it outside of AUs because no one can accept that they're mostly not young dudes. Except with Price who apparently everyone decided has got a fast past to being geriatric where he's ready to fall asleep on the couch in his underwear watching the telly with a cold one in hand when it's 2pm on a Tuesday (same tho but in spirit that sounds nice)

(( AUs are great tho keep doing you're thing there and I love seeing AUs like when Ghost was just a Private. Those are so fun))

TL;DR what the hell Price isn't even that old?? and STOP MAKING THEM ALL IN THEIR TWENTIES OUTSIDE OF AUs PLEASE. They're mostly in their thirties and forties and that's okay and wonderful and I love that about them

[kaitawrites]

Mind full of Task Force 141

AN: I only played the game once, and it wasn't the story mode COD, just regular COD. But I ended up in Task Force 141 rabbit hole on TikTok and Tumblr. Currently Obsessed

Pairing: Task Force 141 x Black Reader

I just imagine you are part of a different task force, you were honestly well-known for your victories when it came to cage fighting. You were vicious with your broad shoulders and thick arms. You were a force to be reckoned with. It would be very strange if the 141 didn't hear anything about you.

They rarely saw you on base as if you were a figure of their imagination. They wouldn't believe you were real if it wasn't for the news of your arrival from others. It seems they are always there when you just leave. Truly frustrating when they wanted to see what everyone was talking about.

Until one day, there was another cage fight, and your name was attached to the flyer. Finally, they would have the chance to understand what all the hype is about. There you were in the cage. Your stance was strong, and your head was held high. You positioned your hands before your face, a smug grin on your face as you carefully watched your opponent.

They didn't even know someone could move that fast. They were beyond shock as they watched you. Johnny watched excitedly, his eyes never leaving your sweaty body. He watched the way you dodged your opponent's attacks. He watched the way you bounced from side to side, awaiting an opening to land your final strike. Kyle's eyes danced with amusement at the sight before him. You had landed a hard right hook to your opponent. Simon's fist and jaw clenched, and many thoughts ran through his mind. It was the same for John. Once they had seen the way you held down your opponent, they knew that they needed to have you.

Hope you enjoyed, I am very open to feedback <3

Donations is Motivation

[eyelambspider]

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐫 || 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : While Price catches himself staring at you again, a particular memory of his 'would-be-wedding day' pops into his head. What a horrible fucking day that was. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.1k 𝐚/𝐧 : don't cheat kids bc i will find you + would y'all consider this price x reader? 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : mentions of cheating/adultery, angst, fluff at the end(?)

𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄. In fact, he despised it once. A long fucking time ago.

The thought elicits a soft chuckle from the Captain, who was propped up on a green crate, watching through a huff of smoke as you fiddled with a gun in your lap.

Oh, that's right, he remembers then, tapping the ash from the end of his smoke. Anna, hated him smoking.

"John! Fucking put that shit out," she scolded, swatting furiously at the Marlboro Red in his hand.

She was a pretty thing. Young and dumb, maybe a bit too immature at the time... then again, he was too.

Twenty-one years stupid and on the cusp of marrying the 'love of his life'.

"Sorry love, nerves-"

"Its our wedding day," she sighed, eating up the rest of the words he had in his mouth. "Can you just quit it for a day?" she pouted, her red lip jutting out cutely.

John smiled, his brown eyes skirting over the shape of her frown. She was beautiful. And gods willing, in a few hours she'd be Mrs. Anna Price.

He flicked the cigarette away, blowing the rest of the smoke away from his brides face, unable to stop the smile that cracked over his handsome face.

"What?" She asked him, suddenly softening under that adoring look in his eyes.

He shook his head, gently cupping her thin hands in his. The tip of his thumb running over the diamond engagement ring on her left hand. Studded, sparkly and new. "You just- You look amazing love," he admitted, unable to tear his soft gaze from her blushing face.

Anna laughed, her head craning back a little. Red lipstick against her sparkling teeth, hazel eyes crinkled softly. He knew he loved her, he trusted it better than any god that would wed them. He loved her.

"Baby," she started, the smile still lingering on her face until it fell altogether from her complexion.

He waited for what she had to say, watching as her eyes flickered down to his chest before she squeezed his hands back. "I forgot the rings at home," she admitted quietly, suddenly unable to look at him.

There was plenty of time until the ceremony.

"I'll go get them," he stated, leaning forward to plant a kiss on her before her hand came up. Cold against his lips and pushed him away.

"It's bad luck to kiss me before the wedding," she said sheepishly, and he sighed, the pang in his chest as insignificant as forgetting the rings.

"It's also bad luck to see you in your wedding dress," he chuckled, a sound like the richest whiskeys, pulling her close by her small waist. The silk fabric of her white dress like the heavens against his skin.

She laughed too, swatting him away with a playful laugh, throwing her head back a bit like she always did.

The rings weren't a problem.

He drove the ten minutes through little traffic, a fine Tuesday where no one would bother them or their ceremony much. They had the only people that mattered there, a handful of friends to bear witness to the occasion. Mostly from Anna's side. Price, he had her, and it was enough.

He pulled out another Marlboro while he drove, rolling the window down and letting the noon sun bore down on him. The smoke fading into the breeze.

The rings were in plain sight, just on the kitchen table, and back he went to the chapel. The rings, gold and silver, stuffed into his chest pocket with the pack of reds.

Everyone was outside for a moment, chatting and glancing at him as he walked by, smiling friendly enough to the man who would marry their beloved friend. Congratulations, chatter and a few pats on the back. "A bachelor still before the vows were spoken," they teased.

"Gotta go find my wife," he assured with a charismatic smile. A fine man. Upstanding, hard-working, and full of life. Working towards his military career not only for him, but the family he hoped to start one day.

And this felt like the first step towards all that.

He headed inside the large wooden doors of the chapel. An old stone one, refurbished inside, but still had those stained glass windows Anna liked.

The son of Christ and Mary looking down in their holy light, filtering a kaleidoscope of soft color onto the wooden pews and altar.

In a few moments, less than an hour he imagined, he'd be standing up there with her, promising forever.

Then, a hushed whisper caught his ear. A sound he could never forget, even all these years later. Louder in his dreams than bombshells and firefights.

His feet carried him towards the sound, a tucked away room for a choir, the door slightly ajar.

In an instant, his suit felt like lead on his body. The rings burning a hole into his chest as the sight played before him in slow motion.

Her dress hiked up above her milky thighs, the hands of another man caressing all that he could feel. Her neck exposed for him in the heat of the moment, his lips on her pulse, careful not to suck a mark onto her perfection. His beautiful wife heaved softly in his hands, pressed passionately against the wall, her red lipstick smeared all over his face...

Price audibly grumbled to himself, the memory striking a decaying nerve in him, and it caught your attention.

The Captain seemed... grumpy.

"Price," you called out, putting your gun down for a moment, not receiving a response.

You watched as his jaw clenched, a vein more apparent by his temple, under his cap. For a moment, it worried you to watch him stare at the ground with those hard eyes of his. Probably lost in his head again.

"Price," you stretched his name out, trying to gain his attention to no avail. It was then that you decided to softly discard your gun and walk over.

Wherever he was. He was in deep.

"Captain."

The combination of you 'suddenly' standing in front of him and addressing him finally does it. His attention snapped towards you in a fierce scowl. On the verge of lashing out before his cigar burns out against his hand. The long forgotten smoke kissing his skin with a searing heat.

"For fucks sake!" he shouts, hand recoiling. The ash from his cigar flittering to the ground like flower petals.

[rottingcorps3s]

"Daddy Issues" - J.P.

John Price x f!reader

Rating: 16+ (no smut, just cute) Word Count: Like 800?? Notice: Hey Alexa, please play “Daddy Issues” by The Neighborhood. I feel as if the title is self explanatory. A/N: It’s been a while since I’ve posted! Had a few ideas I wanted to get out so I decided to write this while I waited for Skyrim to download lol This was written on mobile and not proofread. Might make multiple parts of this, might not. But hope you enjoy!

His grip was tight on your hand. His fingers having completely engulfed your own as he pulled you through the crowd of people. His other hand holding onto the few shopping bags you had accumulated throughout the day.

John was an older man, not much older, but still older. You didn’t mind, obviously, but other people seemed to. It was evident in the stares from strangers that would linger just a second too long.

Is that your dad? You’d heard a hundred times over.

Is she your daughter? They’d ask John, a defeated look crossing his eyes.

When people realized that the two of you were in fact a couple, it tended to sour their mood. Seeing a younger woman with an older man their mind immediately went to Sugar Daddy. Which was far from the truth…kinda.

Did John spoil you? Definitely. Who wouldn’t want to? The multiple Cartier bracelets you owned, the 24k gold necklace that sat delicately against your sternum and the fact that your nails were always done every 4 weeks were proof of his generosity to you.

But your relationship was so much more than that. To him, you had done more for him than he’d ever be able to pay you back for. Your warm touch and inviting smile was all he needed to be satisfied, but you had gone further beyond that.

Since you had entered his life, not a day went by where he wasn’t thankful. Making sure he always had a hot meal waiting when he returned from deployment no matter the time of night. A hot bath already prepared by the time he was done eating. Your warm embrace waiting for him in bed as he washed away the horrors of war.

God forbid he spoils his woman a little.

You felt it happen a few blocks back, your shoe having slowly dragged your sock down the back of your heel and under your foot. It was driving you crazy, but the car was only a few blocks away. John could tell something was wrong as you seemed to lag behind him and stumbled every couple steps.

You had been looking into the window of one of the shops you passed by, seeing if anything interesting caught your eye before you were met with the solid chest of your boyfriend. You looked up at him and met his gaze, his eyebrows raised and a questioning look in his eyes.

“Are your shoes hurtin’ you?” he asked, pulling you off to the side to avoid being trampled by people.

You looked down at the shoes you were wearing, they were a simple pair of white sneakers. A pair John had bought you.

“No,” you said simply, a small smile forming on your lips as you admired him for a moment.

“You keep tripping over yourself?” he said as more of a question.

“My sock rolled under my foot, but I was just gonna fix it in the car.” You said simply.

His eyebrows furrowed as he listened to you, his eyes scanning your form and ultimately landing on your shoes. He paused for a moment, your gaze having wandered back to the window of the shop, waiting for him to start leading the way once more.

He let out a small sign before moving the bags he was holding further up his arm and got down onto one knee in front of you. His knees popping as he did.

You looked down at him with a questioning gaze before he gripped the back of your calf and set your shoe on his knee. You quickly gripped onto his shoulder as you used it to balance yourself. He made quick work of untying the laces and slipped your sneaker off. His hands felt ice cold against your feet as he gently pulled your sock back over your heel.

For as big as John was, he was extremely gentle. His fingers were calloused over and rough, but his touch was the complete opposite. He was nothing but gentle, and caring, and soft with you (unless you requested otherwise).

You felt your face heat up from the interaction, a deep red blush covering your cheeks as he slipped your shoe back on and tied the laces. He set your foot back down on the ground before grabbing ahold of the other one and doing the same thing.

People were staring, you both knew that, but it was such a sweet gesture that you completely blocked out the existence of everyone else around you. John stood back up once your other shoe was on, his eyes lingering on your face for a moment before he turned back around and continued to the car. Your hand still gripped tightly into his own.

You had a huge smile plastered across your face as you pushed yourself into his side. Your other hand holding onto his bicep, your nails gently digging into them.

“Thank you…” you said appreciatively. John smiled in response.

“Anything for you, love.”

(someone please stab me, I love John so much)

[multific]

First Kiss - Modern Warfare Men Preferences

John Price, Simon Riley, Johnny MacTavish, Kyle Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, König, Logan Walker x Fem!Reader

John Price

Your first kiss with Price would be special. He would plan the entire thing and as often, his plan is perfect.

He would plan the perfect romantic date with candles and flowers and he would prove he is a gentleman over and over.

He is the kind who would ask if you are okay with everything that he does. He would ask if he can kiss you if you are comfortable. 

And who would say no?

His very first kiss with you would be simple, private and affectionate. He would test the waters and make sure you are 100% okay with everything that is happening.

And once you give him the go-ahead once more and relax against him, that's when the real fun begins.

His hand would go from your cheeks to your waist, pulling you closer than physically possible. John is a romantic, and in every single one of his movements, you can feel it.

Simon Riley

Both of you were in a fresh relationship, even if you two spent years dancing around one another.

You two were on a mission. A mission which went down as soon as you got off the plane.

You were cornered, scared and alone. Simon tried to calm you through the comms but sometimes no one could reach you in that state of panic.

When you finally met him in the agreed house, you were still on high alert.

Your ears were ringing, your pulse was going insane. 

You didn't even hear Ghost calling out for you.

Until suddenly he kissed you.

He raised his mask just to uncover his lips and soon you found them on yours. 

The shock of the kiss got you out of your panicked state. 

"Finally, that got you back." he said when he pulled back. You could only stare at him.

You two finished the mission in time with minimal damage. You still couldn't believe your first kiss was on the battlefield while guns sounded off in the distance and you were hiding from the enemy. But you didn't know what you expected from Simon Riley.

Johnny MacTavish

Johnny preferred to be random and spontaneous. 

Much like how he asked you out on a date for the first time after he spent days admiring you.

So of course he wouldn't plan the kiss or how he wanted to get to the kiss.

He would just out of nowhere one day kiss you on the lips. And you would be okay with it and so would he. 

A simple kiss to show his love for you was enough. But you would totally reach for his neck the next moment and pull him in for a longer kiss.

Kyle Garrick

Kyle would be leaving for a mission when he visited you, letting you know that he would be back as soon as he can.

You tried not to cry, you didn't want him to feel guilty, so instead when he was about to turn around and leave, you would grab his neck and pull him in for a kiss.

A kiss that was more like a promise from him. A promise that he would return and a promise from you saying that you will wait for him.

No words were needed. Your lips against his did all the talking.

And Kyle would soon be back from his dangerous mission. He would have a dislocated shoulder, but he would be back.

Back for more kisses.

Alejandro Vargas

Alejandro was always a doozy in the mornings. Barely registering what happened before he had his coffee.

Like that morning, it was your first time staying over to his house when he waddled into the kitchen the morning while you were making coffee. 

He would thank you with a short kiss before he left with his mug. You just stood there, confused as he walked away.

After his third sip he realized what he just did and rushed back to the kitchen only to find you still in the same place, frozen as your eyes were scanning him. He grabbed the mug out of your hand and placed it on the counter before pulling you in for a full blown kiss. 

He didn't waste another moment without his lips on yours.

Logan Walker

While Logan was more reserved and collected, you thought your first kiss would be completely random.

But on the inside, Logan was a mess.

You were the most delicate and beautiful thing in his life, and he swore to protect you and be gentle and kind to you.

It was a promise he intended to keep. Even when his brother was making comments about it, Logan didn't budge. 

He was nervous around you which he thought he was hiding well. And he was. You really thought he was not going to kiss you anytime soon, figured a tough guy like him wasn't sweating about it.

But you were very wrong.

He was so nervous he made up his mind like four times now whether he should or shouldn't kiss you.

You two would be out on a date and suddenly he would pull you in. In your mind, it was completely spontaneous. But in reality, it was a carefully crafted plan. 

Of course, he would make sure you are comfortable with everything, but he would find himself lost in the kiss very soon.

König

König is the kind of shy guy who would make up his mind to kiss you and then 0.1 seconds later he would find himself running out of the room because he couldn't do it.

He was scared you would think he hates you and that's why he wouldn't kiss you, but you would know that is not the case.

You knew he was the shy giant. You didn't expect him to be open and ready for a kiss so soon.

After all, you knew what you got into when you started dating him.

You expected yourself to be the leader in certain situations. So you figured this could be one.

But you were wrong.

The first kiss you ever shared with him would catch you completely off guard.

He would be heading out to train as you said goodbye, he would pull you in and give you a quick peck on the lips.

Simple yet effective.

It left you smiling for the rest of the day and him red for the rest of the week.

Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  @mandoloriancookie​ @noname2246​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

[ghostismybbygorl]

Y/n runs into the room

"JOHNNY JOHNNY EXPERAMENT TIME"

You slammed your body into the seat next to him

"So" you motikned your hands

"You know how bleach and amonia makes mustart gas?"

"Im listening" soap said cocking a eyebrow at them

"WELL U FOUND OUT ITS FLAMMABLE" you had a devious look in your eye as you motioned a small boom sound

"So?"

"SO! LETS TRY TO MAKE IT EXPLODE AND CREATE A MUSTARD GAS BOMB"

You pulled soap out if his chair and rush to the bomb feilds

You pulled out bleach and floor cleaner and a grenade. You handed soap a gas mask and put yours on as well you added the chemicals together screwing the bomb back together slowly. You unclipped it and trew it as far as you could.

"BAAAAAMM" a giant explosion of smoke erupted.

You let out a maniacal laugh

"LETS FUCKING GOOOOO"

"Gemme ine if these things" soap reached out he took the pen out and chucked it farther than yours

"BAAAAM"

Soap chuckled

"ANITHER ONE MATE!"

You handed him the last grenade with a giggle

He chucked it hadd

"FUCK YEAH LETS GOO" he held

It exploded causing another giant explosion

"OH FUCK GET DOWN!" Soap covered your body as hot debree from a IED fell over them.

The two of you peered up over the sand bags and looked at each other. Soaps eyes filled with excitement and yours filled with diabolical plans.

Price rushed into the infirmary standing next to ghost who was holding a burn kit.

"The fuck did they do now"

"Explosive mustard gas then lighting random objects on fire and dousing them in chemical, some how they got ahold of a couch and burned it down using frags."

You and soap ended up getting 3rd degree chemical burns on your arms having to he treated immediately.

"Never let them near explosives or cleaning chemicals again"

You fist bumped soap

"Fuckin worth it" he groaned

[mudgazing]

I like to think that Farah's troops call Alex "Farah's white boy" or "Farah's American" (affectionate) in private

[ifyouwalkedinmyskin]

First MakaYuri art of the year <3

Oug- life is life-ing and I'm ill jdndmsksm

I shall work on more art soon-

Now I'll crawl back into my rabbit hole and finish what I started :]

[servethelight]

My theory for the next modern warefare is:

1. Ghost goes bonkers and gets killed

2. Gaz gets killed

3. Price kills Makarov and the game ends with him smoking cigar while the police arrives

This is based on the fact that in the originals Gaz is the first to die out of 141 and Soap the last. Since this time Soap was the first to die I figured maybe they reverse the stop breathing order. Also given Soap and Ghost’s close relationship in this game, it would be the perfect starting point to make Ghost do something stupid.

[iloveghostfromcod]

I’m imagining you doing something dumb and ghost is like “what the fuck was that for?” Kinda scolding you, and because you’re already in a bad mood you just start crying. And then ghost starts profusely apologizing like “no no no wait I didn’t mean it” and then you kiss and everything is fine

[ghouldtime]

Task Force 141 and the pillow pets they'd have

With no explanation

Captain John Price

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish

[floating-space-jellyfish]

A compilation of Blingees for the 141! ^^

[rosemary-morgan]

Music playlists of Price and Co.

I'm on a long trip today and while listening to music I wondered what the guys from 141 would have on their music playlist?

(That's just my idea of their taste in music. Everyone has different ideas 😊)

Stella Explorer - Gold Rush

The Midnight - Deep Blue

Tahnee Cain and Tryanglz - Photoplay

Bad Bunny - DÀKITI

Corey Hart - Sunglasses at night

FM Attack - Magic

FM-84 - Running in the night

Home - Resonance

VØJ - HEAR ME

And so much more... 😊