#the bear team I love you guys.
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jenniesban · 1 year ago
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i'm rewatching s1 with my mom and episode 7 is personally a nightmare. my anxiety 📈. i feel like, i was in the middle that chaos. like a ptsd vibes.
I only felt that way on the first episode of Black Mirror (that i had to stop in the middle of the episode and text a friend to watch and tell me if something that i would be traumatized for the rest of my life would show on my tv. this level of insanity) and on the episode of the Grays Anatomy shooting (literally traumatizing). and the bear comes and enters on my list "worst sensations in life while watching television".
but rewatching it i managed to laugh (nervous). wtf sydney did she do on that fucking tablet (my poor girl)😭😭 and marcus in a dreamland 😭😭😭 tina's son shows up on the worst day ever😭😭😭😭 at the beginning of the episode, ebra reading the review that highlights the dish that is not on the menu LIKE😭😭😭😭😭😭 I CAN'T
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dayleebear · 23 days ago
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Speeding Bullet Kithes :]
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This was way harder than I thought
Drawing smooches is hard
Enjoy :)
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lizzy-bennet · 1 year ago
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thinking about the inherent romanticism of i chose you, and how everyone at the beef was already pre-chosen for carmy, but sydney? carmy picked syd.
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laplacesdevil · 3 months ago
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Revenge on @lightishpurple for Ryder Doe! Shout out Phone Guys forever
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violentlydefending · 10 days ago
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genuinely always so shocked to see mirei hate. like literally god forbid women do anything.
#y5 haters in general... does playable haruka mean nothing to you...#DOES SHINADA TATSUO MEAN NOTHING TO YOU...#for legal reasons this is a joke people are allowed to feel however they want about whatever it's just viddy games#and i fully acknowledge y5 and its litany of flaws#of which there are certainly enough for any given individual to justifiably dislike/hate its entirety but I AM A Y5 LOVER THRU AND THRU#saejima's arc is just an arguably less interesting rehash of the one he had in 4?#(jail; jailbreak; betrayed by his lil buddy guy#but now we're sans the interesting character stuff of his feelings regarding the hit. & also i miss his hair.#& that's not even to say i think saejima is boring in y5 i think there's some interesting subtext to take away from his character#unique to this entry but it's pretty hard to deny how much is literally just y4 again but now he's bald)#BUT WHO GAFS he got buffed to hell gameplay-wise and punches bears now#and also baba's a great character and he doesn't have to do a whole chase minigame if a cop sees him anymore#bloated/unfocused feeling in general to the game?#WELL THAT'S JUST MORE CONTENT BABY!!! only a real issue if you're a completionist imo#+ are u telling me you don't wanna drive a taxi? u don't wanna play a video game in which the goal is to drive as normally as possible?#and i loveeeee multiple protagonists yay <3 y0 y4 and y5 are my favs so far lol (up to y6)#kiryu's inclusion in y5 also feels way more justified than in y4. he was so tacked on there i'm trying to remember what he even really did#other than tiger dropping as a boss fight before instantly forgetting how to tiger drop the second he became playable#and losing track of yasuko and getting tag-teamed by akiyama and tanimura (cough) and beating up daigo#but in exchange akiyama becomes the protag that feels kinda tacked on in y5. way less so than kiryu in y4 tho for sure#anyway. weird/strangely justified plot beats? WELL THAT'S JUST EVERY YAKUZA GAME#an arguably strange/poor writing choice for majima especially given how he ended up being written in y0?#well honestly other than the age thing i think it makes him more interesting... he's kinda fucked up!#but i do get why people are /really/ not a fan of it. ik i just said i think it makes him more interesting but if it gets retconned#or even just never mentioned again i wouldn't be surprised tbh and i wouldn't say that i'd mind either#but additionally he's not even a major character in y5 so it feels like it's not really a significant complaint imo#anyway anyone can do this ('this' being acknowledging the flaws of a thing and then letting how much they otherwise enjoy#said thing determine how much they let said flaws influence their overall opinion) ...such is the beauty of subjectivity... i love you.#contra.txt#yakuza
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tequiilasunriise · 2 years ago
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Shoutout to all the blogs that, during the 2 year RWBY hiatus, gained followers from posting about other fandoms and are now charging up all the stored rwbyrot theyre about to nuke down like an eldritch blast once volume 9 drops
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ITS ME, IM ‘BLOGS’!!!
No seriously, I gained quite a few followers during my Wenclair Era, and don’t get me wrong I still adore Wenclair to absolute pieces, but RWBY has been a special hyperfixation of mine fer YEARS. It’s been an interest that hibernates on and off during hiatuses but nothing has ever latched onto my psyche so deeply as RWBY has with all of its faults and good parts alike. Once Feb 18 drops, I swear to you I will be the most obnoxious person e v e r like I will be rwbyrotting so hard I will SCREAM and CRY and HOLLER about Bumbleby and Whiterose and my babygirl Ruby finally finally finally getting some fresh hot juicy character development but I’ve missed all of the girls in general and!!! Just about everything about V9 so like. Prepare yourself fer my true form.
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loveinsomesacredplace · 10 months ago
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There is no version of the story that has Belly ending up with Con that exists as a happy ending to me.
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samarecharm · 2 years ago
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we are brothers in arms because i have a pegoryu slowburn friends to lovers joker palace au thats been stewing in my brain for the past 6 months and i haven't done anything with it. akira is a fucked up lil jester who never stops smiling and ryuji stumbles into his palace completely by accident. ryujis leg gets caught in a bear trap at some point. they kiss in the end. this has nothing to do with your actual post i just like infodumping about this
This is literally fucking us
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kakusu-shipping · 1 year ago
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Happy Pride Month Emile!!! 🖤🩶🤍💜 🩷💛🩵 🖤🩶🤍💚🤍🩶🖤 and 🏳️‍🌈 for Mario/Luigi + anyone else in the royal polycule you wanna do!!! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜
HAPPY PRIDE TO YOU TOO ANON!!!!
Oooooh the instant desire to just to the entire polycule but I just did my Mario ship chart that showed all of them.... I'll keep it to like the Core Five.
Ask from here
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Mario - He/Him, Trans Man, Panromantic Asexual
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Luigi - He/Him, Gender Non Conforming, Bisexual
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Peach - She/Her, Trans Woman, Panromantic Asexual
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Daisy - She/They, Butch Lesbian
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Bowser - He/Him, Intersex, Bisexual
#Thankyou for asking#Royal Polycule#I have more you can ask for more if you want there's just#The Royal Polycule is VERY big there's a lotta guys#And I don't wanna be annoying with a long post fkgjgjkfd#Luigi wears dresses in a masc way and trousers in a fem way#Mario also wears both but in a Mario way#My man will wear anything and he wears it all the same#Meaning he runs and jumps like a maniac and naps in the grass in it#I love them#I don't know WHERE Intersex Bowser came from it just hit me one day while looking at him and it stuck#Daisy is a lesbian BUT Luigi can get it#Thankyou very much for asking for my hyperfixation the Big ass Mario Polycule#They're a lot less complex than the Bear Polycule that's for sure#I see a LOT of Trans Mario and Luigi and I'm so on board for that#Trans Mario or Trans Luigi or Both I love those SO much#I don't have it in my personal headcanon arsenal because I love them more being Gender Whatever#Without it being a big deal to either of them?#Gender Eh you know like neither of them care#They are their parent's sons and Mario played on the Boys teams during sports#And that's about as far as either of them have thought about gender#Neither of them are Binary but neither of them use any labels for the experience they have#Because it's just whatever to them. They're Mario and Luigi#Bonus Mario is Sex Neutral while Peach is Sex Favorable#I dunno why I wanted to include that I just learned the Sex Favorable term and wanted to share that's what Peach is#Okay cool. Thankyou for reading!!!#Pride Month
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sacredglitch · 1 year ago
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A A A A
The final scene is what I've bEEN WAITING FOR
I know daMN well they reminisced about her and all the cases they had her on...what she be like on the ones without her...
It's all I ever wanted after Carter's death. Smooches ep 14.
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astonmartinii · 8 months ago
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a case of the cuddle bug | logan sargent social media au
pairing: logan sargent x fem!piastri!reader
someone check his temperature, he's got a serious case of the cuddle bug
author's note: thought we could all use some logan content to get us through the weekend
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargent and 201,445 others
tagged: logansargent
yourusername: he's not racing :( more time to cuddle :)
view all comments
user1: if i find out that that t-shirt was made by them i may need to be shot in the head
yourusername: sorry to be the bearer of bad news 😕
user2: y/n where do we find a logan?
yourusername: date your brother's best friend - the romance books did NOT lie
logansargent: hard to be too sad when you're around
yourusername: awwwww logie bear 🐻 i love youuuuu
logansargent: i love you too come back to the motorhome the hospitality coffee is not worth it
yourusername: not even if i swipe you a cupcake?
logansargent: okay..... maybe ....
alexalbon: i'm sorry buddy, i promise i'll do us proud
yourusername: yOU BETTER 👹
alexalbon: i'm soRRY are you like a gremlin? did someone spill some water?
yourusername: i'm gonna ignore most of that cause gizmo is cute
logansargent: she loves you really alex
alexalbon: do you still love me logie?
logansargent: yes?
alexalbon: I' SORRY I HAVE.A GUILTY CONSCIENCE I DON'T LIKE PEOPLE BEING MAD AT ME
user3: lol mood ^
oscarpiastri: you could support your BELOVED BROTHER NOW (AT HIS (OUR) HOME RACE)
yourusername: ugh i guess
oscarpiastri: you literally said you'd support me any time logan wasn't racing :(
yourusername: unless he can come with me, we'll be supporting you from the williams garage
oscarpiastri: better than nothing i guess
logansargent
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liked by oscarpiastri, alexalbon and 459,046 others
tagged: yourusername
logansargent: no way around it, this weekend has been the hardest of my career. however, i'm thankful for alex for picking up a couple points for the team and for having y/n with me to support me this weekend, enjoy the cute picture of her (but not too much)
also i guess congrats to oscar on a podium at his home race 🤷🏻‍♂️
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user4: hardest weekend ever... here's a pic of my. hot gf :)))))
user5: he's real for that, just reminding us that he's still winning off track
alexalbon: thank you isn't enough logie, love you man, can't wait to see you back in the car next week x
yourusername: you're so lucky you got points otherwise your ass would've been grass xoxo
alexalbon: Y/N I SAID I WAS SORRY PLEASE STOP BEING MEAN YOU'RE MEANT TO BE THE NICE PIASTRI
oscarpiastri: you stole my soon-to-be brother-in-law's car and called me a shit padel player 🖕🏻
alexalbon: why is everyone ganging up on me :(
logansargent: you gotta take it for at least this weekend bro
alexalbon: i guess...
user6: they're so cute, but who is taking these photos of them?
yourusername: oscar makes himself useful sometimes
oscarpiastri: ugh i get NO CREDIT IN THIS FAMILY
logansargent: i at least appreciate it oscar 🫶🏻
oscarpiastri: that's all well and good and i love you, you're my bff but sometimes i don't want to see you be lovely dovey with that hellspawn
fredvesti: let it be known i will no longer be sneaking out with you guys for ice cream on a race weekend, the risk was not worth the third wheeling
logansargent: i paid?
fredvesti: thank the lord you did otherwise i'd raise an official complaint
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oscarpiastri
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liked by landonorris, alexalbon and 793,209 others
tagged: logansargent & yourusername
oscarpiastri: got a podium at my home race and i'm still not my sister's favourite
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user8: have we considered that y/n and logan have attachment issues?
oscarpiastri: she sat at the window like a woman waiting for her husband at war when he DARED to go home for christmas when we were 16
yourusername: as if you haven't cried over lily 🙄
oscarpiastri: i ACTUALLY don't get to see her very often, i can't separate you and logan
yourusername: LEAVE ME BE
user9: oscar says this as if y/n wasn't crying her eyes out at the podium
user10: and logan wiping her tears to prevent smudging her eyeliner - sigh
logansargent: don't hate the player hate the game
oscarpiastri: what happened to blood being thicker than water
yourusername: you know what else is thicker than water ... 😩😩😩
oscarpiastri: okay you can sTOP RIGHT THERE
landonorris: they're really one being huh?
oscarpiastri: believe me the dinner at mine? they were being TAME
yourusername: okay for the audience we are not that bad, we're just affectionate we aren't like making out in front of everyone
landonorris: .... shame
oscarpiastri: yOU HAVE SHAME THAT'S MY SISTER
logansargent: THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND
yourusername: AND THAT'S MY BOYFRIEND
landonorris: damn tough crowd
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargent and 212,934 others
tagged: logansargent
yourusername: a wee break before my boy is back to knock your socks off
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user11: they're so cute your honour
alexalbon: dating a racing driver and not wearing a seat belt? interesting.
yourusername: dating a professional golfer and still shit at golf? interesting.
lilymunhe: she did get you there alex, soz.
yourusername: also we weren't even driving, that hair acting is all a fan
logansargent: practically a professional photographer now (the model definitely helps, she looks perfect doing anything)
yourusername: hehehheheheheheheheheheheeh
user12: y/n really just gagging alex at every corner
user13: she saw logan wasn't holding a grudge and decided to double down on hers
user14: and we respect that
logansargent: you knock my socks off everyday babe
yourusername: as long as it's only me 😘
logansargent: i've been in love with you since i was 13 👍🏻
yourusername: SNAP🫰
oscarpiastri: once again left out of the photodump
yourusername: you are not 'my boy' that would in fact be inappropraite
oscarpiastri: you couldn't just change the caption?
yourusername: you're not cute enough to be a lannister (cersei and jaime call me)
logansargent: ????
yourusername: *call us 😉
logansargent
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liked by lilymunhe, alexalbon and 592,309 others
tagged: yourusername
logansargent: glad to be back in the car this weekend, though if alex could stop terrorising y/n that would be great
view all comments
user15: were oscar and y/n's parents in the williams garage?
user16: so oscar wasn't lying about him basically being family already 🥹
alexalbon: i was not TERRORISNG I WAS ENGAGING IN SIBLING LIKE BANTER
oscarpiastri: hold on buster, that's MY sister 🤨
alexalbon: i can't win with any of you three 😭
yourusername: LET'S FUCKING GO EAGLE BOY GOD BLESS AMERICA 🦅🇺🇸
logansargent: i'll let you have this one for once
yourusername: as an aussie that was very hard to say, please appreciate it
logansargent: thank you my little kangaroo?
yourusername: kinda offensive they're scary
logansargent: koala?
yourusername: YOU SAYING I HAVE CHLAMYDIA?
logansargent: well i've ran out of australian animals now :(
user17: thanks for the violent reminder of chlamydia being rife in koalas :(
oscarpiastri: gonna have to beat you this weekend to win back my parents' favour it seems
yourusername: let's be real, they prefer logan over both of us :(
oscarpiastri: true 😔
logansargent: i can't help the southern charm
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williamsf1
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liked by yourusername, alexalbon and 1,034,672 others
tagged: logansargent
williamsf1: LOGAN POINTS, I REPEAT LOGAN POINTS 😤
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user20: TRUST HIM, I REPEAT TRUST HIM
yourusername: THAT'S MY BOY LET'S FUCKING GO
oscarpiastri: you never get this excited for me?
yourusername: FUCK OFF THIS IS NOT YOUR TURN, IT'S LOGAN'S DAY
maxverstappen1: pretty sure i won the race
yourusername: FUCK OFF ALL OF YOU
user21: y/n crying her eyes out she's so real
user22: based on the faces in the garage i think she may have let everything out lol
user23: as she should
user24: can't expect two people to be attached 24/7 and not be ride or die for each other
logansargent: thanks for the support, glad to pick up some points for the team
yourusername: I'M SO PROUD OF YOU
logansargent: i know you've shouted it in my face since i got back from media
yourusername: you need to know it :(
logansargent: i love you so much
yourusername: i love you even more
user25: the whole piastri family going wild in LOGAN'S garage was not on my 2024 bingo sheet
user26: but it was cute as fuck
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargent and 287,045 others
tagged: logansargent
yourusername: we're down bad with a case of the cuddle bug
view all comments
user27: the CUDDLE BUG?
user28: i need to be taken out of my misery
logansargent: i've got a high fever, a love fever
oscarpiastri: THAT WAS CORNY AS FUCK
yourusername: i thought it was cute :(
logansargent: and that's what matters
yourusername: exactlyyyyy
oscarpiastri: so fuck me, right?
yourusername: yes!
logansargent: yes!
user29: this whole interaction makes it so obvious oscar was the only boy growing up LOL
alexalbon: i'll concede, you guys are cute
yourusername: we been known
logansargent: no one does it like us
alexalbon: erm alex and lily erasure?
yourusername: lily cute, you not so much
alexalbon: stop being SO PROTECTIVE WHY ARE YOU A GOLDEN RETRIEVER WITH EVERYONE ELSE AND A RABID JACK RUSSELL WITH ME IT WAS JAMES' DECISION GO FOR JAMES' ANKLES
williamsf1: ???
yourusername: i thought it was friendly sibling banter (also james is logie's boss of course i'm not gonna go for his ankles dummy)
logansargent: she's my little guard dog 🫶🏻
yourusername: anything for you, come back to cuddle :(
logansargent: on my way cuddle bug!
fin.
note: i understand why williams made the decision they did, but i've had such a soft spot for logan since he admitted he's lonely in the paddock :( i hope he has a good next race to really prove himself to everyone xx hope you enjoyed! xx
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januaryembrs · 8 months ago
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BLACK CAT GIRLFRIEND | Spencer Reid x reader
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request: Hey Congratulations on the 2K! Do you think you could write something with Spencer Reid and a Reader who has lots of tattoos and/or piercings? Like she's the whole "bad girl" stereotype but Spencer and her complement each other so well and have a very sweet and mature relationship. I would love something like that.
description: the team meet Spencer's new girlfriend and she doesn't look quite like they'd imagined
word count: 1.1k
main masterlist
authors note: I officially hit 2k followers this morning!! see my post here for requesting but lets start this milestone off with a bang!! thankyou so much :))))))
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Morgan had to admit, you weren’t exactly what he���d envisioned when Pretty Boy had been talking his ear off for months about the girl in his apartment building that had slipped him your number. He wasn’t judgemental, not by a longshot, but Spencer had always seemed like the type to date the preppy, library geek, or even the cutesy geneticist if Maeve had been anything to go off of. 
It’s not like you weren’t hot, he could see that you were a mile away, but you looked like you’d sooner break someone’s wrist for so much as talking to you than fall for their resident genius. 
You smiled tightly, shaking Derek’s hand with a crushing grip, as Spencer introduced you to his team, the obnoxiously loud bass almost drowning out his words as the six of you stood in the bar. 
“Nice to meet you, Spencer talks about you all the time,” You said politely, and no sooner had you let go of the man’s warm hand, two arms were thrown over your shoulders and you were tugged into a hug. 
“I’m Penelope- oh you’re so pretty, Morgan isn’t she so pretty? You should marry Spencer then you can be boyfriend girlfriend for, like, life-” The perky voice was all a jumble as the blonde pulled away, cupping your face, rubbing down your arms kindly, sweetly, like you were swallowing a warm spoon of honey. 
“Penelope, newbie rules, remember,” Emily chimed in, seeing your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion of personal space. She could see this ending with the pretty pink bows Garcia had plaited her hair in torn to shreds on the sticky floor, right next to her long barbie locks if your intimidating figure was anything to go off, “Not everyone likes hugs,”
“No, no,” You replied, smiling gently at the woman who was softer than cotton candy, “Hugs are nice,” 
“We’re going to be very best friends, I can feel it, which is funny because my tarot actually said I’d meet a strong Taurus woman- or are you a Scorpio-” Penny’s smile was dazzling, but she was soon ushered to let go of the bear like grip she had on your shoulders by a chuckling Morgan.
“Let the other kids play with her, babygirl,” He said, and you were pulled in another direction towards Emily who gave a polite handshake. 
“Nice ink,” She said with raised brows as she saw the intricate sketches that covered the back of your hands, trailing up your arm and under the band tee you wore. She knew who they were, though they only dragged up memories of her own days of thick eyeliner and rebelling against her mother. “They must have hurt like a bitch, I got one on my hip and could barely sit for one hour,” 
You snickered, nodding, seeing her eyes trailing over the ones on your ankles and knees where your ripped jeans flashed them all. 
“Bones hurt the most, though the one on my ass is up there for the worst ones,” You replied, and Penny’s brows shot into her hairline, though she giggled like a schoolgirl being told a secret.
“I think we’re gonna need to see the proof on that one,” Morgan teased flirtily, the way he always did, the way he did even with JJ who had a whole child and partner, because it was his natural state of being. 
Spencer smiled as his team warmed to you, though he was quick to pull you to him with a gentle arm around the waist. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Derek, that man was practically his brother, he’d taken bullets for the guy, but he liked having you close, even if to just remind himself that you were all his, including said tattoo on your buttcheek that he’d seen plenty of times. 
The team didn’t need to know that, but you could tell your words had reminded him of it as he pressed a shy kiss behind your ear.
He was careful to avoid the studs and links that glittered from your ear lobe, wrapping over the cartilage on your helix, though he loved to stare at them on nights where you tied your hair up and he could count every one of them. To him you were a work of art, complex and detailed with every glance he stole. You were an illustration in one of his many books, everything he imagined for himself times a million. 
“I’m going to go get a drink, do you want one?” You said, looking up at him with puppy eyes, like a lovestruck teenager, fat adoration in your gaze. It oozed out of every inch of you, and JJ thought for a moment that you looked nothing like the scary doberman woman that Spence had originally brought over to meet them. You looked in love, the saccharine, soft and dazed kind of in love. 
“Let me get it for you,” Spencer rooted around his pocket for his wallet, turning to see Morgan’s beer bottle running low, “You having another one?”
“I’m good, my man, you just sort yourself and your lady out,” Derek flashed him a thousand watt smile and clapped him on the shoulder as you entwined your fingers with his, pulling him through the cluster of people and towards the bar, “What a stud,” 
Penelope giggled again, leaning towards her adonis best friend with honeyglow cheeks, watching their genius get led like a dog on a leash. 
“Oh lover boy had got it bad,” She drawled, watching Reid, their Reid, develop an uncharacteristically protective stance as a few men at the bar shot looks up and down your body. She couldn’t blame them either, you were a sight for sore eyes. “Okay, so do I have to be the first one to point out how hot she is or have I maybe had one too many margaritas?” 
“She seems nice,” JJ chose her words carefully, still not entirely sure she would have ever put the two of you together but she saw the way Spence’s eyes got round and longing when he looked over you. He’d clearly said something to make you laugh, and an inked hand raised up to brush his chocolate curls out of his face lovingly, “She seems good for him,”
A murmur of agreement ran through the four of them, Emily taking one more sip of her martini as her eyes roved over your figure returning with something fruity and colourful, “Anyone else dying to know what’s on her ass?” 
-
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ifonlyyuweremine · 1 month ago
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Captain’s Girl. [Part I]
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John Price x Reader (Call of Duty)
Synopsis: After Laswell pitches you a favor to join 141, you're left with no choice but to accept. The only problem arises when you and the Captain start to butt heads, but if the two of you hate each other as much as you say, then why is the rest of the team calling you his girl?
Tags: Enemies to lovers, tension, military romance, forbidden love, smut, fighting, secret feelings, slow burn.
Word count? You know the drill, it’s long.
.・゜゜・  ・゜゜・..・゜゜・  ・゜゜・.
‘Captain John Price.’ You skimmed the document again, his name catching your eye for the third or fourth time. The black ink seemed to bleed together against the crisp paper of your enrollment documents into Special Forces Task Force 141. It was a promotion, and an honor at that, special forces to begin with were selective.
But 141 was almost unheard of, a combination of British special forces and American special forces. They were one of the best, and you were about to become a part of it. You read the documents again.
‘All personnel will be working under John Price and answering to Kate Laswell, respectively-’ Your eyes trailed further along the mess of columned words, making sense of the legality aspects of transferring to a new team. You hadn't expected to be transferred over, not until Kate had contacted you with an offer. You could tell she was put under pressure by the way her voice strained against the receiver…
“Look, I need you here. Ever since Shepard went rogue, we've been a bit tight over here. John has stepped in as commanding officer; technically, we already have a sharpshooter on 141. But we could use a hand, just until we sort out our bearings. Then, if you'd like, I can transfer you back to your current team…”
You'd raised an eyebrow, “Laswell, you're acting like I'm the only one who can fill these shoes. Why don't you hire a private contractor from KorTac? I'm sure they have more experience anyway.” You heard her blow out air from her nose, amused. “[Name], I don't think I have to tell you how much these guys hate private contractors. We need someone who can work as a collective team, you know… integrate themselves for the time being.”
You pursed your lips together, weighing out the pros and cons. However, Laswell was one of the best people you had ever met, a long-time friend since the baby days of your recruitment. She was a woman of her word, and she had your back. And if she said this team needed someone, she was being serious. You sighed, leaning back, “Okay, send me the details, Laswell. I'll think about it.”
…You read the contract one last time; it was simple enough. You would be transferred to 141 at the end of the month; it was a year-long contract. Which, in a way, made you a private contractor, too. The rest of 141 was under the impression that you were there to stay, everyone except the Captain and, of course, Laswell, not that she was on 141. If they decided they didn't need you before the contract ended, you could pick to stay for the remainder of the year or transfer back to your original task force.
A sigh left your mouth; you picked up your pen and flipped to the last page. Etching your signature into the blank line. You had till the end of the month; as of that moment, you were officially a member of 141.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Well, you had to give Laswell credit where credit was due. It had been a few weeks since your arrival and you fit in quite smoothly into 141; you believe she called it “integrating.” To nobody's surprise, the team was almost entirely men, aside from Ferrah, who was stationed elsewhere. It hadn't been long since your arrival until you were bound to run into someone; Jhonny was the first…
It was later in the day and you were wandering about; transferring to a new location was something you never got used to, so you tried to get a head start on mapping out the place. Everything was similar to your last base, but you still felt a bit alien. A small room tucked off to the side caught your eye, and you followed in that direction. It was a small break room, a kitchen, and a fridge tucked away in the side; there were a few cupboards and a single run-down couch.
You mosied over to the kitchen, opening cupboards and looking inside drawers. You found the usual silverware, mugs, napkins, junk, and tea bags. You stopped; tea actually sounded pretty good. Sitting on the counter was one of those electric tea kettles; you reached for it.
Waiting until the water was boiling, you grabbed the first mug you saw in the cupboard. As you dipped one of the tea bags into the scalding liquid, the door handle jostled across the room. You heard him before you saw him; his voice was deep, a bit raspy, with a thick Scottish accent. Walking through the door came a man dressed in sweatpants and a military-issued shirt. His head was shaved aside from a cropped mohawk of brown hair. His face was pulled into a subtle frown with his eyebrows furrowed. A phone pressed against his head by his shoulder.
You locked eyes with him, the pale spheres of his eyes boring into yours. You could tell he was studying you, maybe trying to deduce if he had seen you before or if you were a stranger. Suddenly, you heard muffled talking coming from the receiver of his phone. You looked down at your tea, not wanting to be considered rude for staring.
The man's voice came again, but it was almost unreadable. It was like a different language, probably Scottish, and then it stopped. When you looked back up, he was standing a few feet away from you, reaching into one of the cupboards.
“Sisters.”
You blinked; it took you a moment to understand he was talking to you. “I-What?” You asked, caught off guard by his comment. He looked back at you, holding up his phone. “S’who I was talking to.” Your eyebrows furrowed, and you nodded slowly; it was an odd way of making conversation. “Oh, okay…You uh- don't look too happy about it, family troubles?” You asked, his lips cracked into a soft smile, and he shook his head. “Nah, she's just a bit dafty. She's auld, so she feels the need to boss me around from time to time.”
You nodded along, trying to use context clues to understand some of his choice words. You watched him fill his mug with some water you had just boiled. “Ah, I see. I'm not sure I can relate; I'm the oldest sibling, so maybe I do all the bossing around.” He nodded, one of his thick eyebrows rasing, “How many siblings?”
You smiled, “Just two, a brother and sister.” The man hummed, looking down at his tea. “Gotcha…” A silence enveloped the room, and after another agonizing moment, he spoke up again. “You a new hire around here? Can't say I would forget a face like yours, lass.” You nodded, glad that the silence had been put to rest, a smile growing on your face at his comment. “Yeah, new transfer to 141.” Suddenly, his eyes grew more comprehensive, “You're the newbie?” He said, astonished.
You chuckled softly, “I wouldn't say newbie; I'm just a transfer from another unit.” His face cracked into a grin, “No kidding, apologies, didn't mean to come off as rude.” He held his hand out to you, “Johnny McTavish, team calls me Soap.”
Your eyebrows raised, “You're a part of 141?” His smile didn't fade as he nodded, “Aye, sharpshooter and sniper.” You felt a grin creeping up on your face; this Soap guy was friendly. Way friendlier than you thought the people on 141 would be. “I’m [Name]. I'm also a sharpshooter, but I also work with mechanics and firearms. Soap is…uh pretty interesting call sign, any meaning behind it?” You saw something in his eye; maybe it was pride, or perhaps something more sinister, “Well, when you clean out a room as fast as I do, people notice. You ain't got a callsign, Bonnie?”
You shook your head, “No, I guess my name has always just done the job.” Soap pat you on the shoulder, “Don’t worry, we’ll get you one.” You and Soap just talked for the next few minutes; it was nice. The conversation ebbed and flowed without problem; he nodded to the door after your tea was nearly empty. “Aye, Bonnie, why don’t I take you to meet the rest of the team? Give you a head start on the meet and greet.”
You smiled, “Yeah, why not?”
…The more time you spent with the team, the easier it got; it helped that they made good conversation. Jhonny was…well, Johnny, good sense of humor but never knew when to quit. Ghost was quieter; he didn't trust you immediately, but you'd managed to pull a few chuckles from him and the occasional polite conversation.
Kyle Garrick, or ‘Gaz,’ was an all-around good guy, funny, polite, and incredibly talented. You could never get over the time that you had gotten drunk off your ass, and Ghost told you a story of when Gaz fell out from a helicopter and was shooting at people while he was swinging from the airborne vehicle.
And then there was Price. Captain John Price, you'd met Price a day after Soap introduced you to the rest of the boys. To say the atmosphere was tense between you would be an understatement. From the minute he laid his eyes on you, they went stiff. His whole demeanor around you reminded you of a rock; it was like he didn't even want you on the team. His voice went curt, and whenever you spoke, his eyes bore holes into your head like he wanted to shoot lasers into your brain by just staring.
You'd talk about it to the rest of the team, but they shrugged it off. “Maybe he ain't used to you yet; it takes a while for the lad to trust anyone. He usually puts on the tough guy act for new recruits.” Ghost had said; Jhonny snorted at that. “Tough guy act? Dinnae, nothing bout that; when I first joined, the man made me want to pull out my hair. Think that's more than a tough guy act L.T.”
Usually, this wouldn't have bothered you as much as it did. But for some odd reason, he got under your skin like nobody else could. And believe, you were no stranger to difficult co-workers and bosses. Even worse, your first interaction with him was incredibly awkward, and you couldn't have left a good impression even if you had tried. It was almost etched into your mind like a stone tablet…
It was your last day to set up, get used to the team and your surroundings before you started working. The three days you had to relax were mostly spent either in the base gym, or eating in the cafeteria. What could you say, you were a creature of habit.
Until this point, you had met almost the entire team besides the captain. Technically, you weren’t required to meet him until you started working, but you'd already met everyone else. So, you figured it wouldn't hurt to get acquainted. You pried the information about Price’s whereabouts from Gaz: “I haven't seen him up and about today; usually, he's around. It probably means he's hauled up in his piss-poor office. The guy hates it there but usually locks himself up there when he's in a bad mood or has paperwork.”
Despite his warning, you went ahead and searched for Price’s office. That was mistake number one. After a minute or two of searching, you came across a door with the engraving “Price” carved into the wood in neat lettering. You reached for the door and tried to turn the handle, but nothing. It was locked; you frowned and tried again. But to nobody's surprise, the door remained shut.
So, you resorted to the next best thing. You knocked a few times but were met with radio silence. Maybe he wasn't in there, you chewed on your lip, thinking. There was a small window in the door, but it was covered by blinds. You squinted, pressing your hands to the wood and moving your face inches from the glass; you tried to peer inside despite the closed blinds. That was mistake number two.
“Can I help you?”
You jumped. The voice came from behind you. It was deep with a smooth British accent; you whirled around to face the person. Your eyes met what was possibly, in your opinion, sex on two legs. The man was tall and built like a tank, judging from how his biceps and chest filled out his cotton shirt. His face was stern, with short-cropped brown hair and a muttonchop beard. His eyes a deep shade of blue, you swallowed.
Damn.
You didn't believe you had a type, but this guy probably would've checked off all the boxes if you did. You stood there like a gaping fish for a moment; when he raised his eyebrow, you snapped out of your trance-like state. “I’m-uh looking for Captain Price. I thought I'd check his office, but I don't think he's there.” You cringed; your voice was rushed, a pitch higher, too.
The man crossed his arms; god, he could probably pop your head like a balloon with those things alone. “Well, you found him.” He said plainly. You stared at him briefly; of course, he was the captain. Why else would he be here? You wanted to punch yourself in the gut. “Oh,” you breathed, “great then. I wanted to introduce myself; I'm the new transfer.” You tried to muster up a confident smile, which most likely had the opposite effect, given he was looking at you like you'd grown a second head.
“[Name], I know. I read your file.” He deadpanned. His voice caught you a little off guard; he wasn't irritated per se, but he didn't seem happy about this introduction. You cleared your throat, “Great then, I'm sure Laswell told you I was coming?” You were grasping at strings here, trying to prolong the conversation.
“Yes. I'm well aware you are here. Laswell has a way of inserting help into my team.” You paused; well, that wasn't meant to be a compliment. Your smile faltered, and you looked around the room like this was some prank. “She said you guys needed someone…?”
Price nodded, his demeanor unsettlingly calm, “That’s her opinion. Now, I respect Laswell; she knows what she's doing. That doesn't mean I always agree with her; 141 was just fine, this is just a precaution on her part.”
You felt your eye twitch a little; you transferred from your other unit, the unit you were extremely close to, mind you… for this? You joined out of the kindness of your heart, only for this jackass to say you were ‘just a precaution.’ “Well, I hope you won't hold a grudge.” You said a bit curtly. Price pursed his lips together in a tight line.
“Wouldn't dream of it; a year is an awful long time to hold a grudge.” He said, the malice and ego coming off his tongue so strong you could almost taste it. What was this guy's problem with you? You did the nice thing and took time out of your day to introduce yourself to him. And he was treating you like you'd personally wronged him. “Good, then I won't either.” You breathed, frustrated. Price looked down at you, his eyes devoid of any emotion. “Well, that's good to hear; now, are you going to let me into my own office or keep standing there like a human blockade?”
This guy.
Your palms squeezed into fists, shooting him a nasty glare. You forgot you were standing right in front of the door, the embarrassment making the tips of your ears heat up. You pushed yourself to walk away, “It was nice meeting you, Captain.” You spit, venom in your tone, walking away like a wounded animal.
Suddenly, you somehow forgot about how hot he was; at that moment, you wanted to smash his gorgeous face into a wall. You liked your new Captain a lot more when he didn't speak. But the reality set in: John Price hated you for some unknown reason, and you were starting to hate him back.
…You had calmed down since that first encounter. Maybe it was a one-off thing; after all, you did go when Gaz warned you that he may already be in a bad mood. Maybe you had jumped the gun? and Price didn't hate you.
News flash: He hated you, and it was not a one-off encounter.
You were now a month into your new job, and if it weren't for Price, you would've actually been enjoying your time with 141. Everyone else was great; they were warming up to the idea of having you as a teammate. The training was hard on you, but you expected that, you were improving day to day. But no matter how well you did, you always had Price’s voice in your ear telling you that you could've done better. The man was running circles around you.
Slowly, you started to lose patience with him; when he laid out the bait, you bit. It was getting easier to react instead of keeping calm and passive-aggressively telling him you were grateful for the friendly criticism.
Even the team started to watch every interaction you had with the Captain keenly. They would tease you ruthlessly, saying his name while your back was turned just to laugh at the way your whole body seemed to go as stiff as a board.
“I swear the two of ya seem to bicker like an auld married couple. It's like watching my parents fight.” Soap had said to you once after an agitated conversation you'd had with Price moments before.
Was it your fault for causing some of the arguments between you two? Possibly. But he instigated just as much as you did; it was like a competition of who could get under the other's skin the most. And you couldn't even avoid him; Gaz wasn't kidding when he said he was out and about when Price wasn't in his office. He was like your shadow.
You were in the cafeteria? Oh, so was Price. You were in the gym? That's funny; Price was just about to do his workout. Training? He was practically glued to you and nitpicking everything you did. You were trying to go for a fucking walk around base past lights out? Price couldn't sleep, and as your captain, it was his obligation to make sure you didn't do anything stupid.
Intrusively, you wondered if he had implanted a tracker into you while you were sleeping. That had to be it; there was no way you just happened to experience so many ‘coincidences’ back to back. 
Eleven more months, you had eleven more months stuck with him. Maybe in that time, you could come up with a detailed plan on how you would murder, hide, and successfully get away with killing your Captain.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
It was one of those off days where you didn’t have much to do. Like the calm before the storm, 141 had an incoming operation; plans were laid out, and everyone knew what to do. All that was left was playing the waiting game before you loaded into the helicopter and landed in a checkpoint base in Urzikstan.
With nothing to do, you figured it wouldn't hurt to hide away in the break room with some tea and scroll on your phone. You rarely had time to yourself, so you might as well make the best of it. You peeked into the break room and smiled when you found it was empty. You made a beeline to the small kitchen counter; you'd managed to snag some different types of tea for yourself over the few weeks you had been at base. It was the floral and sweet kind that nobody touched, despite Ghost's comment that: “It's not real tea.” You found it incredibly enjoyable.
As you turned on the electric kettle, the doorknob jostled. You looked up, and your eyes met Price. Well, shit. He made eye contact with you. Obviously, the feeling between you two was mutual based on how his lips dropped into a frown when he saw you. You stared at each other for a beat before you turned your head away.
You weren't doing this today; you were too tired to bicker with your captain over something useless. You stared at the counter, waiting for him to leave or speak. But he did neither. Instead, he walked over to the counter and grabbed a mug. The silence between you was so loud that the room might've been quieter if you were arguing.
He was close, not enough that you were touching, but enough that his presence almost tickled your skin.
You just continued to watch the counter and your mug. Glancing at the kettle, you almost grimaced; it was barely bubbling. When did boiling water take so long? The tension was so thick you could practically cut it with a knife. But, Price was the first to crack.
“Interesting mug,” he commented, his voice as it always was when he spoke to you. Dry. You debated not responding, but the silence was killing you just as much. “It's my favorite.” You said back, matching his tone. However, your eyes were soft as you looked at the mug before you. It was ceramic, with hand-painted fish drawn onto it. Cod, salmon, tuna, and swordfish, too, their colors vibrant compared to the barren beige of the rest of the cup.
He made a low hum sound, almost like he didn't believe you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and you finally turned to look at him. You stopped briefly; his eyes had heavier bags than the last time you'd seen him. He didn't look as stern or unshakeable as usual; rather, he looked more weary, human. You forgot you were going to say something to him, “What?” You said, suspicious.
His eyes broke away from yours, looking down at his hands as they tore away the top of an instant coffee packet. Price emptied its contents into his plain white mug and cleared his throat. “Nothing, s’just that's my mug.” He said; his voice wasn't mad or accusatory. Instead, it was just like he was stating a fact.
You frowned, your eyebrows sinking further down your face. What was he talking about? You'd been using this mug for weeks; in fact, this was the first mug you'd used here, back when you first met Jhonny and the rest of the team. “That's not true; all the mugs in the cupboard are communal.” You pointed out, looking at him like you'd caught him in a bad lie.
He looked back at you, an almost smugness to his gaze. “Look at the bottom of the cup.” He said plainly. Your frown deepened, but you grabbed the mug and turned it over in your hands out of curiosity.
JP. It was painted in small lettering in the middle of the circular bottom. Your face dropped. Oh. JP, standing for John Price. It was his mug. Your face reddened as you realized you had been drinking out of his cup for the past month. Why hadn’t he said anything about it to you before now? He obviously knew, considering he'd seen you drink from it before.
You opened your mouth, trying to come up with a good defense. “But- Jhonny told me all the mugs in the break room were for everyone. Including this one.” You said, pointing at the mug in your hands.
Price raised one eyebrow, “And you believed him?” He said. The gears in your head started to turn; the guy had a point. Why had you trusted him of all people? You pinched the bridge of your nose between your fingers, “fucking christ Soap.” You muttered, primarily to yourself.
The steaming whistle of the kettle broke your train of thought, and your head snapped in its direction. You looked from the boiling kettle to the mug in your hand, a sigh exiting your chest. You held out the mug to him, “Here. It's yours, I'll get another one.”
Price looked surprised for a beat before his face went neutral again. He shook his head, pushing the mug back towards you. “No need; I've already got this one.” He grunted, nodding to the plain white mug sitting on his side of the counter. Before you could protest, he grabbed the kettle, pouring the hot water into his mug. Your nose scrunched as the aroma of instant coffee hit you.
He raised an eyebrow at your visceral reaction, “Not a fan of coffee now, are we?”
You cleared your throat, looking away from the blackening devil concoction. “I like coffee-” You clarified, “-just not that instant crap; it tastes like sewer water.” The curve of his lip twitched into a half-amused smile. Bringing the mug to his lips and taking a hearty sip, “noted.” Price hummed. You reached out to grab the kettle, but he handed it over to you before you could.
You raised your eyebrow; this was the closest thing you'd ever had to a friendly conversation with your Captain. You skeptically took it, breathing a ‘thanks’ to him. A comfortable silence fell on the both of you; Price could drink his coffee while you waited for your tea to brew.
Your eyes seemed to pull towards his direction as you waited, observing the curve of his lips, his nose that was just a bit crooked, and the coarse hair of his beard that thinned into stubble the further down his neck it went. You watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed his drink and how his large hand seemed to make the mug seem small. He somehow pulled off looking like he hadn't slept in weeks, which ticked you off somewhat.
He shot you a sideways glance, “You're staring.” Price said flatly; you looked like a deer caught in headlights. “I was…zoning out. And for the record, I was looking at the-uh wall behind you.” You cringed at yourself; the long pauses and uhs weren't adding to your credibility.
Price gave you a funny look, turning to look at the refrigerator behind him, which was most definitely not a wall. He turned back to you, “The wall you said?”
Well, shit, thanks, captain obvious. You frowned, giving up, “It doesn't matter-” you huffed, “Point is, I was zoned out.”
That answer seemed to satisfy him or at least force him to drop the subject; Price shrugged and took another sip from his mug. “Let's hope you don't make a habit out of it. Wouldn't want to add that to the other list of…qualities you have.” Here we go again. You raised an eyebrow, the edge in his tone all too familiar. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, “Which are?”
Price cleared his throat, gesturing his mug to you and your tea. “Theavory, for one.” Well, he got you there. You blew out air from your nose, the closest thing to a laugh you'd let him pull from you.
“Funny.” You said sarcastically.
A small smile tugged at his lips, “Yeah, well, just trying to lighten the mood between us.”
There was a pause.
The way he said ‘between us’ didn't sit right with you; what he said had undertones of bitterness, almost similar to the layers of an onion. Now, was it possible that you were reading too much into this? Yes. Was it also a tone-deaf thing to say, considering he was the primary reason you two didn't like each other in the first place? Also yes.
Don't bite the bait; don't bite the bait, “The mood you created?” You bit the bait.
He glanced at you, one of his eyebrows arching. For a second, it was silent, like he was mulling over whether it was worth it to engage. Price sighed, setting his drink down. “Look… [Name], if this is about that time when we first met, I was in a bad mood. I wasn't trying to be harsh; I'd just had a shit day. Nothing personal on you.” He craned his neck to the side, sliding a hand over his nape.
You crossed your arms. “You could've apologized,” you pointed out. Price paused, staring at you quizzically, “Why would I need to apologize?”
You almost gaped at him; his ego seemed to know no bounds. If it wasn't so irritating, it might have been comical, “You called my job a ‘precaution,’ and me, a ‘human blockade-’” You deadpanned, “-I don't like when someone downplays my whole career.” Price just stared at you blankly, his face morphing into more confusion.
“But you are a precaution.” He said, “That's the whole reason why Laswell put you here.” It was like he was explaining something to a child.
You huffed, “Captain. With all due respect, I'm a part of this team whether we like it or not. I don't want to be treated like an outsider- everyone else here seems to treat me like I belong here so why don't you? What's not to trust?” You questioned, your eyebrows pinched together and your lips pressed into a not-so-subtle frown.
“You don't belong here, though,” Price said frostily. “You're here for a year [Name], no more, no less. You belong to a different task force, so excuse me if I treat you as such.”
You stood there, stunned for a moment. A familiar feeling of resentment bubbling up inside you like the electric tea kettle. Your hands squeezed the ceramic of your mug, “Just because I'm not here to stay doesn't mean I'm any less committed to my job. I work my ass off every day to show you that I belong here. I just don’t understand why you’re too stubborn to even see that.” You huffed.
Price pursed his lips into a tight line, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer. “I don't have time to micro-manage everything you do. That's not stubborn; it's having other responsibilities besides making you feel included.”
Well, if he hadn't made you feel like a toddler before, he definitely was now. “Well, that's funny because you seem to do a perfectly good job at micromanaging everything I do despite your ‘lack of free time.’ And- I’m not asking you to make me feel included; I’m not an infant. I’m asking you to treat me with the same respect you treat everyone else with.” You hissed.
It didn’t surprise you how quickly the polite interaction with him turned into another bitter argument. When it came to Price, emotions ran high. Higher than you would like to admit.
“Maybe if you stopped acting like a child, I would respect you more.” He bit back, and you groaned, throwing your hands up in the air.
“I’m not though- I’m clearly telling you the problem between us. But since you have this…this grudge against me you won’t even listen to me.” You huffed.
Price shot you a look that said, ' I'm winning this argument, and there is nothing you can say to stop that.’ 
Internally, you wondered if getting dishonorably discharged was worth throwing hot tea into your captain's stupid face. Instead, you decided to look away, setting your mug on the counter with a sharp ‘clank.’ “Fine then, don't listen to me. That works, too.” You breathed through your teeth.
Price downed the rest of his coffee, throwing his head back and then setting his mug upside down in the small sink. He turned his whole body to you, crossing his arms. His blue eyes narrowed, and his eyebrows pinched together in scrutiny. “You want me to listen? Go ahead. Say what you want; I'm all ears.”
Your voice died in your throat. As much as you wanted to give him a piece of your mind, you didn't put up much of a fight against him, especially not with his ‘I'm the Captain, and you are one word away from cleaning toilets’ voice.
You pressed your lips together in a tight line, and the silence between you hung dangerously quiet for another moment. “Nothing, Captain.” You said through your teeth.
Price nodded, his eyes drilling holes into you, “That's what I thought. Now, it better stay that way for the duration of the next week or so help me; I will take away every privilege you have.” With that, he promptly turned on his heel and stormed out. Leaving you, a seething statue.
You looked down at his mug, still held tightly in your hand. You glared at the painted fish, “Fuck you.” You whispered to the watercolor salmon. Your frown deepened, substantially disappointed that whispering ‘fuck you’ to your Captain's mug didn't carry the same satisfaction you'd feel if you said it straight to his face.
Arguing with him was like arguing with a brick wall. Scratch that. Arguing with Price was worse than arguing a brick wall, a brick wall wouldn't intimidate you and then storm off.
You didn't feel like finishing your tea anymore. You grit your teeth together, dumping the liquid into the sink and watching as it slides down the drain. You had a few days before the mission, and you were going to make sure that you didn't fuck anything up. Lest you suffer the wrath of Price and your own self-doubt.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
“Shit!”
Your head snapped toward the voice, even with the night vision gear you had everything was difficult to identify. It was safe to say you weren't a fan.
It had been 72 hours since you landed in Urzikstan, and 4 hours since you left the checkpoint base. If you had to guess, it was most likely around 0300 standard military time. Which meant you and the rest of 141 only had another two hours before you had to evacuate and hop on the trucks back to the checkpoint.
Your orders were simple enough, break into the compound and locate the underground terror group that was allegedly creating a bio-warfare laboratory. While it wasn't concreated information British and American SAS couldn't risk not sending a team to see if the tip was accurate. Being the genuine pigs of the situation didn't sit right with you but you weren't employed for your opinion on what the government chose to do and not do.
Still, being sent on a wild goose chase or worse into a trap made you more on edge. Everyone had paired up in case this was a setup and because the universe could never let you win you were grouped with Price. Which brought you back to the present moment.
“Price whats going on? talk to me.” You said in response to his curse. Trying to keep your voice as low as you could while still being audible. You weren't an expert but typically someone hissing ‘shit!’ wasn't a good sign.
In the split second before he could respond you heard the click. Along with the sound of Price’s footsteps trying to get out of the way, then came the sharp boom of a gun being fired. Only after the sound had left the barrel of the gun did you see it. The building wasn't finished, half of the construction was halted, leaving rooms unfinished, walk-offs, and random piles of rubble. Hidden behind a cement pillar a floor above, looking down at you was a person. More importantly a person behind a giant ass gun.
Shit!
You immediately threw yourself out of the way, ducking yourself behind a large amount of rubble. Your eyes scanned for Price in the darkness, frantically making sense of the objects around you. Another fire. Followed by another one. You didn't have time to look for Price. You turned your body, shielded by the debris, and pointed your gun up. It didn't take long before you locked onto the figure, you drew your breath in and pulled the trigger. The firing stopped.
You peered up over the rubble just in time to see the limp body flop over the drop-off and slam into the concrete. You were met with a deafening silence, “Price you copy?”
After a moment you heard someone move, “Yeah-” Your shoulders dropped, a breath you didn't realize you were holding escaped. You never thought hearing that deep British voice would ever make you this relieved. “Yeah, I copy.” He breathed. You stood, carefully making your way over to the corpse of your attacker. Looking down at the body, their face hidden by a cloth and glazed-over eyes looking up at the ceiling.
You grimaced, it was like looking at a dead fish. You looked up, nobody else was above. The only thing remaining was the unaccompanied sniper.
“This guy was alone.” You said, eyebrows furrowing. “And his aim was shit.” You deadpanned. Your head turned, expecting to meet Price. But were only greeted by an empty space, “Price?” You asked looking around.
“Over here.” He gruffed, you turned around. Price was standing next to a wall, his palm flat against its surface. It was like he was leaning against it, your eyes narrowed. His left leg was slightly raised off the ground, something wasn't right.
You jogged over to him, “What's the matter?” you asked, because of the night vision goggles coupled with the amount of gear he was wearing you couldn't see his face well. However, you didn't miss the way his jaw flexed. Before he could respond you pinpointed the issue. The leg that was raised had a small bullet-sized hole in his boot.
“Shit.” You breathed.
This really wasn't what you needed. You and Price had to be out of the compound in the next hour and a half, being shot in the foot was a major problem. At least it wasn't an organ, you thought. “Can you still walk?” You asked.
Price put his foot on the ground, putting his weight on it. You cringed as he let out a quiet hiss, “Yeah just fuckin’ hurts like hell.” He took a step, he was limping but he could walk. Which was a small win for both of you. Just as you opened your mouth someone spoke in your ear piece.
“[Name], Price, you copy? We heard shots.” The voice was grave, deep, with a thick British accent. Ghost.
Price answered, “We’re fine. Bastard with a sniper nicked my foot. Did any of you find the lab yet?” He said through clenched teeth, despite your dislike of your captain you felt a little guilty. If you'd seen the shooter before Price would probably be fine.
“We just found it, nobody’s here. S’a fuckin’ ghost town… no pun intended.” Ghost’s staticky voice rang in your ear, if you were in a better situation you might have laughed. Your eyebrows furrowed and you frowned.
“That makes no sense.” You chimed in, “If this guy was here there should be more people. It doesn't make sense for only one person to be set up here.” You looked at Price. His head was already turned to look at you. It was a beat before anyone spoke again.
“Price.” A raspy Scottish accent this time. Soap. “The labs empty, no inventory at all. Everything is sterile.” You felt your throat run dry, the silence on the radio spoke louder than anything you or anyone else could say. Either they evacuated before the team had gotten there or the whole building was a ruse.
You looked back at the corpse lying a few feet away from you and Price. “They knew we were coming.” You breathed. The weight of your words seemed to carry for miles, but the implications might have been worse. You looked at Price, the same thoughts you had probably already running through his head. “We need to fucking leave, right now.”
Price gave a small nod, “Everyone get out. Gaz, call for emergency evac now. Leave the same way we came do not under any circumstances go further into this building.” Price demanded. Which was followed by a series of ‘copies.’ You started for the way you entered, just as you reached the empty doorframe you heard a grunt behind you. You looked back, fuck. You forgot Price was hurt, fuck, fuck, fuck. He could walk but there was no way he could run with his foot.
You doubled back, and as you ran to him Price raised his hands. Almost in protest, “I can keep up, I'm not immobile.” He exhaled, and you shot him an unimpressed look. The situation was bad enough, you weren't going to deal with this. You couldn't waste time and walking on a bad foot would only worsen it for Price in the long run.
You grabbed his arm and slung it over your shoulder, one arm grabbed the back of his vest, holding his side up so his injured foot didn't hit the floor. It wasn't the most comfortable but it worked.
Price opened his mouth but you spoke before he could get a word in. “You can't keep up and you know it. Whatever problems we have don't matter right now, we've got to get out of here. God knows what the people who were here before us did to this place. But we don't have time to think about that-” Your eyes met his, the red hue of the night vision goggles making his navy eyes seem black. “-I’d much rather keep you alive but I would gladly die with you than have it be my fault that you die. So shut the fuck up and move.”
That seemed to do the trick because Price did in fact, shut the fuck up. You quickly exited with Price. It wasn't as fast as you would've liked to leave but it was the best you could do with a six-foot tank of a man leaning against you.
A few minutes later you and Price successfully made it out. The rest of the team was already waiting a ways away from the building, you let out a relieved sigh. Just being out of the compound seemed to lift a weight off your chest and calm your racing heart. Price seemed to feel the same way judging by his taunt muscles relaxing slightly.
You made your way over to the team, Ghost was the first to notice you. He did a slight double-take as he saw Price, “Thought you said the bloke nicked you?” He commented, you gently released Price letting him lean against the outside wall of an abandoned house.
Price grunted, “Yeah well he nicked me good.” He said back, Ghost nodded. Soap and Gaz peered at the bloody hole in his boot, “That’s gonna be a pain to heal I’ll tell you that.” Soap commented, and Gaz nodded along. “No kidding.”
Price’s frown deepened, and he let out a breath. “Gaz how long till evac trucks pick us up?” Gaz looked out at the open area then looked back, “I’d say twenty minutes give or take.” That answer seemed to give Price a little peace.
A few minutes had gone by, and Soap, Ghost, and Gaz were all talking with you while Price leaned against the wall silently. You glanced at your Captain, gingerly making your way over you leaned against the wall a few inches away from him. You didn't know what to say if you should say anything for that matter. Making conversation with Price wasn't your strong suit, but you felt bad.
“So…you okay?” You asked dumbly, Price gave you a look that made you want to go right back to the others. He was silent for a beat before speaking. “I got shot in the foot [Name], you tell me.” He deadpanned.
You swallowed, nodding. Asshole. No matter, you decided to take it in stride, “Right.” You breathed, “I just… wanted to check.” On second thought maybe you really should leave, it was like you were communicating with an alien. And after your last argument with Price, you walked on eggshells whenever you were around him.
The stretch of silence between the two of you lasted longer than you would've liked. But after a moment Price cleared his throat and nodded, “Thank you.” He said.
You did a bit of a double-take, thank you? Price never thanked you. It was like he was allergic to congratulating or acknowledging you in any form that wasn't to reprimand you. You must've looked as confused as you felt by the way he glanced at you and then went on. “For helping me out of there, you were prepared for the worst back there and you still had my back. I appreciate that-”
“-you uh, you did good.” He clarified.
Your mouth was probably hanging open at this point, ‘you did good.’ The words hung in the air around you, filling your ears with cotton. Price your captain, Price your mortal enemy had praised you. He gave you a sideways glance, “Don't look so shocked [Name], you're still on thin ice.”
Ah, there it was, your shoulders slumped. It was better than nothing though, “Right, uhm thank you.” You said a bit awkwardly, Price gave you a small nod in return. It wasn't much, but it was acknowledgment.
After some time passed by you and the rest of 141 loaded into the trucks, starting the long drive to the checkpoint base. You tried to lean your head back and get just a little bit of rest, but after thirty minutes of failing to do so, you gave up. There was just too much in your head, too many unanswered questions. You thought about the man you'd killed, why was he there? What was the use of evacuating a building if you just left a single sniper with terrible aim lying in wait for someone to come looking around?
Did that mean they didn't know 141 specifically was coming? The question that worried you the most was the fact that if they did plan for you to raid the lab, who on the inside was feeding these people your team's operations? You shuddered. It was bad enough that commanding officer Shepard went rogue a few months prior. The SAS really didn't need another mole. Especially considering the amount of enemies the American and British military had made.
Your shoulders slumped, it didn’t really matter, what mattered was that everyone made it out. You didn’t want to think about what would’ve happened if the previous occupants had left explosives inside the building. It was better to just be thankful that nothing happened.
Your first operation with 141 had been a bust, but considering the circumstances you thought it went as well as it could’ve. Not counting Price’s foot.
Subconsciously your eyes drifted over to Price, his boot had been taken off and his foot was wrapped in white garb. Just until someone could look at it properly, everyone had taken their night visions and helmets off to get some shut-eye. Your gaze drifted up until they met his face, navy eyes met yours. You froze, you hadn't realized Price was awake. The two of you didn't break eye contact for a minute, almost like a challenge of who would be the first to look away.
“You make a habit of staring at people or is it just me?” He deadpanned. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, he could never let you catch a break, could he?
“I wasn't staring, and you were looking at me too.” You defended, it didn't matter if you were staring, he wouldn't get the satisfaction of hearing you confess that. One of his thick eyebrows raised, “I glanced at you. There's a difference, you just happened to look up at the same time.” He said back, calm as ever.
You half rolled your eyes, he could word it however he wanted to, but in the end, it was pretty much the same thing. “Okay, keep telling yourself that.” You hummed, matching his nonchalance. Your gaze dropped back down to his bandaged foot, “How’s the foot?” You asked, hoping he wouldn't catch you changing the subject.
Price grunted, his head lulling back onto the seat. You shot a glance at his adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down before averting your eyes. “Feels like I got shot in the foot, so…not great. It's better than an organ so I won't complain that much.” He breathed.
You nodded, “You ever been shot before?” you asked, what could you say? You were curious. He nodded, clearing his throat he cast his head down to look at his chest. One of his hands pulled up his bullet vest and shirt revealing the beginnings of his abdomen, right above his hip bone there was a small scar. “Two years ago, caught me while I was down. Took forever to heal, fuckin’ hurt like hell too.”
You zeroed in on the exposed skin, it was all muscle, no surprises there. The man was built like a 4x6 brick, his skin was shiny with sweat, and from what you could see his bullet scar wasn't the only one that littered his skin. Just below the dipped fabric of his shirt was the start of a happy trail. You swallowed.
What the fuck was wrong with you? A few days ago you were plotting how you could murder him and now you're ogling a sliver of his stomach like a horny teen girl.
You absolutely did not find a single part of your boss attractive. Forget your first interaction with him when you were practically gaping over him like a fish. That didn't count. This was Price you were talking about. Sure, he was conventionally attractive with just the right amount of ruggish charm to make him mysterious. And yeah, he was built like a tank, so what? And you couldn't forget about his stupid fucking British accent, who the hell was into British accents anyways? (You were. Embarrassingly so.)
Price looked up at you, the silence making you raise an eyebrow. “See something you like aye?” He said, amusement dripping from his voice. Your eyes immediately snapped back to his face, embarrassment churning away at your insides.
“You wish,” You said back. So maybe you found some parts of your Captain hot, that didn't matter. In the end, it was still Price. And the flames of hatred don't die out just because one's enemy is a little (a lot) attractive.
Price breathed out what sounded like a laugh, he dropped the shirt. “Keep telling yourself that [Name].” Your fists squeezed together as he threw your words back at you.
You glared at him, “You're so full of it you know that?” You breathed, which only seemed to pique his interest further. You were glad the rest of the team was either sleeping or so used to your fighting that at this point they tuned you out. Jumping off a cliff seemed nice in comparison to the ruthless teasing that Soap and Ghost would enact if they found out you'd been caught ogling Price.
“Didn't realize this would strike a nerve, any particular reason why?” He said, you grimaced. You could almost taste the smugness from his tongue like syrup, “It didn't.” You said through your teeth, “Then again, egotistical men are a pain to be around. Especially ones that think everyone around them wants them.” You grumbled.
Your words seemed to have the opposite effect, Price straightened. A small tug at his lip made you want to slap that smirk right off. “I never said you wanted me, but liars always do have a way of telling on themselves don't they?” He grinned.
Something flashed in his eyes, you didn't have time to see what it was. But right now, all your willpower was devoted to not picking up your gun and giving him a matching hole in his right foot. “I think I'd rather shoot myself than be anything but professional with you.” You said frostily.
Price hummed, the smirk never leaving his face and he leaned back. “Glad the feeling is mutual.” He spoke calmly.
Your eye twitched, he was pulling that card now. Reverse physiology or whatever it was, the ‘I don't have to want you but you have to want me.’ Well too bad you didn't care, you couldn't care less. If Price didn't want you that was great-better even.
“Yeah,” You huffed, “Super glad.” You turned your head away so you didn't have to look in his direction. Maybe you should've left him in that building, it was a tempting thought. The rest of the drive back to the checkpoint was spent in silence.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
The base felt dreary, everyone was still in a funk from the previous night. Everything felt just a bit more surreal, nobody was talking about what happened either. Not that there really was anything to discuss.
The checkpoint base wasn't as nice as your previous base. It wasn't even a full building, there were a few small ones but those were mostly used to store weapons. Everything else was industrial-sized tents, making privacy a luxury. It didn't even have a proper barracks, just a large tent with several stretcher-like beds placed in rows. To be completely honest the entire thing was a pile of shit. But it was a roof over your head so there was that.
You sat at a bench in the ‘commons,’ a poor excuse for food sitting in front of you. Gaz sat next to you while Ghost and Jhonny sat across from you. They all had similar grimaces plastered on their faces as they ate their protein paste.
“If I have to eat this shite for another day I'm going to go into that food storage room and light the thing up. They got us eating like dogs.” Ghost said after draining the last of his rations. You half-heartedly agreed, humming a sound of approval that was accompanied by Gaz’s small chuckle.
Soap grinned, “Don't get yer panties in a twist just yet L.T, heard they're serving dessert paste too. Courtesy of Price’s injury.”
You shivered, it sounded just as bad if not worse. Then a thought popped up, you looked around the common space. “Hey, you guys seen Price? Isn't he eating?” You hadn't seen him for almost the entire day, which was a blessing for you but it did strike you as odd when normally you couldn't get rid of him.
Gaz shrugged, “He was in the medical tent last time I saw him. The guy was getting his foot looked at, he’ll probably show up soon.”
Ghost turned his head to face you, while it was a little hard to tell with his balaclava, one of his eyebrows raised. “Awful concerned about Price aren't you? Thought you hated the man.” Your lips curled into an exasperated frown.
“I'm not. And I do hate him. I was just curious.” You brushed him off, trying to avoid his stony gaze. Soap and Gaz exchanged looks that made your eyebrows furrow.
Gaz looked at you, “What about the other day when you helped him out of the building?” Soap was next to chime in, “Or that you use his mug all the time and he lets you?”
You shot Gaz a glare, “First, he's still my Captain I'm not going to leave him in a building where I think he's going to die.” Then you directed a similar glare at Soap, “Second, I didn't know it was his mug because you tricked me into thinking the mugs were communal.” You said through your teeth.
Ghost smirked, “Sounds like you care.”
Your hands gripped the table with unnecessary force. “I do not.” You defended, the looks exchanged between them made you want to crawl into a hole. Suddenly you weren't as inclined to finish your meal. You stood, grabbing your tray of half-eaten food and trash. “I'm not hungry anymore.” You said dryly.
Soap laughed, faking a disappointed frown. “Come on lass we were just getting started with ya. Where's the fun in leaving before the real jokes start?” You rolled your eyes, stepping out of the bench and walking towards the trash.
“Jokes are supposed to be funny,” you replied as you dumped the remanence of your ‘lunch’ in the trash. Just as you were exiting the tent Soap's voice called out to you.
“Oh, if you see the old fart, tell him his dessert paste is waiting for him!” That earned an amused tug at the corner of your lips, shaking your head in exasperation as you pushed past the floppy tent entrance.
You didn't even make it a foot outside before your momentum was halted by a larger mass. Your face met something hard, but also somehow soft at the same time. You stumbled back, gaining back your balance from the force of running into something. Or more specifically, someone. You looked up in dismay to see what kind of idiot ran into you.
It was Price, because of fucking course it was.
But it was Price with the addition of a single crutch and a newly wrapped foot. Your eyes slowly crept up to his face, the mortifying reality that you slammed right into his chest setting in. What’s worse was that the previous conversation with the guys was still very fresh in your mind.
‘Sounds like you do care,’ Ghost’s words echoed in your mind, haunting you like a…well a ghost. Ironic.
“Do you mind?” Price's words snapped you out of your trance. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. It was silent for a moment before your vocal cords decided to actually comply and let you speak.
“You ran into me.” You said lamely, the tips of your ears felt hot. Like lava was slowly being poured onto your head. Price’s eyebrows furrowed, his navy eyes studying you. Even on one crutch, he seemed to tower over you in a way that made you antsy.
“Why are you red?” He asked, the question caught you off guard. Making you falter for a second time, “I-What?”
Price’s eyes narrowed a bit, a finger pointed directly at you. “Your face. It's red,” It wasn't a jab, more like he was observing a simple fact. Suddenly you became hyper-aware of the heat spreading across your face. You touched your cheek, and the pads of your fingers burned at the touch.
Oh my god.
Your face was hot, it was flushed. You were blushing. Blushing. In front of Price.
You swallowed, feeling a bob in your throat. It was like you were in one of those dreams where you showed up to school naked. “I'm allergic-” You blurted out.
A beat of silence ensued, and Price raised a single brow. “Allergic?” He said, to which you responded with a hard nod. Think, think- what was a believable lie? “Yes… to the dessert paste.”
Price didn't look skeptical now, he just looked downright confused. “What the hell is dessert paste?” He questioned, while a good question, you didn't want to stand around to explain it to him while your face looked like the cover of a period ad. You shook your head, steering around him like a robot.
“Ask soap.” You said as you made your escape, “I'm going to the med tent so I don't go into anaphylactic shock.”
That was a lie, you were going to the bathroom to rethink your career and splash cold water on your face. Leaving Price a standing statue, a perplexed look on his face.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
A pack of 8 beers was slammed down onto the small table in front of where you were sitting. The bottles lightly clanked together, you looked up. “What’s this?” You asked, Soap stood in front of you with a confident grin.
“This is how we’re going to make it through our last 10 hours in this shit hole.” He proclaimed, his hands on his hips.
It was late, everyone but Price was in the sleeping tent. True to Soap’s words, in 10 hours you and the rest of 141 were finally going to load up into the heli and return to the original base. Thank goodness too, you didn't think you could stomach another meal here. Ghost looked over from his cott, “The hell did you get that from?”
Soap waved him off, smoothing over his poor example of a mohawk. “A magician never reveals his secrets.” He fished into his pant pocket and pulled out a pocket knife, grabbing one of the bottles he flicked the cap off with a soft pop’ “Since it is our last night, why not celebrate?” He went on.
You eyed the pack suspiciously, if it came from here it was probably shit beer. But it was still something, you shrugged. You reached for one, “I'll take what I can get.” You sighed.
Grabbing a bottle you snatched Soap’s knife to knock off the cap. Throwing your head back as you took a generous swig, it burned down your throat. The pungent flavor making your nose scrunch and your mouth curl. Soap did the same, smacking his lips as he swallowed. “Well…It could be worse.” He muttered.
Ghost and Gaz followed suit, walking over to your space and grabbing two bottles. After some time had passed the four of you had settled into a sort of circle, you were two beers in and things were already getting fuzzy. You didn't normally drink, mostly because you were a lightweight. But when you did drink, you got drunk. You were tipping your head back with laughter at every story, the warmth in your stomach making the tent somehow feel cozy.
Soap reached for his third bottle but Gaz swatted his hand away, “Leave some for Price Jhonny.” He scolded, Soap simply rolled his eyes and groaned. “The old man won't care, he only drinks at those shitty pubs. He's a stickler bout not drinkin’ on base, something about ‘not mixing business with pleasure’” He mocked, doing in your opinion, a decent Price impression. You chucked.
“I don't think Price takes ‘pleasure’ in anything, he's such a stick up the ass he wouldn't know fun if it hit him in the face.” You breathed, and while not the most articulate thing to say, your tongue and thoughts were loose enough that you didn't care.
Ghost’s mouth curled into a knowing smirk, “For someone who hates Price, you sure do love to talk about him any chance someone brings him up.” He said smugly, earning snickers from both Soap and Gaz.
“Oh fuck off will you?” You grumbled to Ghost, this whole teasing you about Price thing was getting old fast. “I say one thing and you guys act like I have some schoolgirl crush on him.”
Soap grinned, “You said it lass, not us.” He coughed abruptly when you smacked him in the stomach, making him lean forward to catch his breath. You glanced at Ghost who’s hands were now raised in surrender.
“Come off it [Name], we’re just teasing, you're not doing yourself any favors by acting with him the way you do.” He commented, which only confused you. All you did was argue with him, where was there room for speculation? The look on your face must've told them everything they needed to know.
“What do I do that gives off that impression even remotely?” You said defensively, they all exchanged looks.
Soap spoke up, “It's not just you bonnie, Price acts differently around you too. It just gives off a certain impression. Some people just take it the wrong way.” There was an underlying uncomfortableness to his words that you didn't miss. And who were ‘some people??’
Ghost smacked him upside the head, earning a startled grunt. “Fuckin’ twat, Soap doesn't know what he's saying.” Ghost said facing you. “He's already tipsy, don't take what he's saying to heart.” Soap was holding his head, shooting a glare at the lieutenant.
You shook your head, not ready to let it go. “No, who's some people? And what did you mean when you said ‘taking it the wrong way?’” Your eyes narrowed in on all three of them, waiting for someone to speak first. Gaz looked away, immediately giving him away as the weakest link. “Gaz what's he talking about?” You asked firmly.
He tensed up, glancing at Ghost and then back to you. “It's really nothing, it's just a silly rumor.” Ghost shot him a firm look, “Kyle-” He warned.
A rumor? What the hell was there to talk about? The last time you'd heard of a rumor going around about yourself was in high school, it wasn't a pleasant experience, to say the least. Your lips pursed into a tight line, something about how secretive they were being set you off. “What rumor?” You said, after a minute of silence, you slowly got more frustrated. “If it's about me I deserve to know.”
Ghost didn't speak, neither did Gaz, but Soap did. He blew out a sigh, glancing back at Ghost who was maintaining strict eye contact with you. “There is a bit of a widespread rumor back at base that you've been shaggin’ the boss. People started calling you Captain’s Girl.”
The pit of your stomach dropped.
You felt dizzy, looking between the three of them. Waiting for one of them to break, to smile and say ‘got you!’ but it never came. “You're joking right?” You said, laughing nervously, the longer the silence the more nauseous you became.
Ghost shook his head, his eyes hard but his demeanor a bit solemn. “We didn't want you to know for obvious reasons. Thought it would make things worse between the two of ya’ and it was just too far.” You swallowed, this was a joke. This was a joke and they were just teasing. When nobody spoke after the reality set in.
Of course, this would happen to you, you worked your ass off just to be respected in a field dominated by men. You were asked to be a part of 141. But all people saw was a slut who worked her way up the ladder by playing Miss ‘Hard to Get.’
“We tried to stop it as best we could trust us, it's just a little hard to keep quiet when word spreads fast,” Gaz interjected, his eyebrows scrunched in…guilt? Second-hand embarrassment? Sadness? You couldn't tell.
You sat there in silence, processing everything. “But- but I'm not. I'm not sleeping with him.” You sputtered.
Soap placed a hand on your shoulder, “We know you ain't. You don't need to listen to those people anyways, it's just barrack talk, people needing a story to make their lives more interesting.” A well of emotions started to flood your senses, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the gravity of the situation hitting you.
Captain’s girl.
What. The. Fuck.
This was Price’s fault. It had to have been, Soap said he was acting weird. Maybe this was all his elaborate plan to destroy your career and kick you off 141 for fraternization. It had to have been him, right? You weren't thinking as clearly as you would have liked considering you were borderline drunk, but that didn't matter. You shot up from where you were sitting, making Soap jump.
Stumbling you started to make a beeline for the entrance, Gaz also got up and followed you, much to your chagrin. “[Name]? Where are you going??” He called after you.
“To find Price!” (And kill him.) You shouted back angrily, storming outside before Gaz had the chance to stop you. Obviously, you didn't think this through enough because it was pitch dark outside. And Price was nowhere in sight, fuck.
Whatever, you could search this place for hours if you had to. He was bound to pop up somewhere, like how the tide is drawn to the moon you and Price always had a way of being pulled into each other. You stormed through the dark, almost tripping on your own feet once or twice in the process.
You'd been there long enough that you could tell what area was what. Even in the pitch-black cloak of the dark, you could feel your heartbeat in your head. It was like your body was pulsing with the rhythm of your anger. Just as you were about to start shouting his name a light caught your eye. You swiveled your neck so fast it burned the muscles in your nape. Low and behold it was Price walking out of the medical tent with his single crutch.
He stopped when he noticed you, his face a mix of confusion. “What are you doing? I thought I told you guys not to go outside after lights out?”
You felt every emotion rush back to you at the sound of his voice, the sight of his face, the fucking absurdity of the whole situation. Your hands clenched into fists, “What the fuck is wrong with you?! I thought you sucked before but I underestimated how much of a jackass you could be!”
Price stood there like a deer caught in headlights, so baffled he couldn't even speak. “Excuse me?”
You marched straight up to him, “You heard me. Apparently making my life a living hell wasn't enough for you was it? You sadistic fuck. Do you get off on torturing me? Is that it?” You spat. The heat in your face rising with each word.
He didn't say anything, his navy eyes looking at you like you belonged in an insane asylum. After a minute of silence, he breathed, “[Name]. Realistically I should be laying into you right now and giving you every single punishment there is for the rest of your stay here for cursing me out after lights out with no provocation on my end. But, I'm going to give you one chance to explain why you're acting like a screaming banshee before I send your ass straight to the bins.”
His words only ticked you off further, well two could play dumb. “You know exactly why I'm angry! No provocation is such bullshit. You- You just think I'm so stupid don't you?!” You were stumbling, your mouth felt heavy. It was like your mind was moving faster than your body could keep up with.
“Are you drunk?” He asked incredulously. You shook your head, “No! I mean yes I had a few drinks but I'm not drunk. Stop deflecting-” You rambled on.
His eyes turned to narrow slits, “I don't even know what I'm deflecting- you can't just start making a scene and expect me to know why you're angry. I'm not a mind reader.” He groaned.
“The name! The rumor- whatever you call it. You spread a rumor about me to the entire base that I'm sleeping with you! People are calling me your girl! The guys told me, everyone thinks I'm some slut because of you!” Everything in your body was burning, it felt good to finally yell at him but the words hit you hard.
You were labeled as the slut. No matter what you did there was always going to be a man overshadowing you just because of a preemptive notion that you were weaker. Something you'd spent your life fighting was now your reality.
Price’s eyes went wide, he almost resembled a wooden board. For a moment his eyes softened, like he was taking pity on you. “That's what this is about.” He breathed, “Look, I’m just as upset about that rumor and the name as you are. I don't know who started it but I can give you my word it wasn't me. You can ask any one of the guys and they will tell you the same thing.”
You started to speak but he raised a hand to stop you, “-I know it's not fair. But the damage has already been done, the thing about rumors is that they pass. And nobody thinks you're a slut. You're just as capable as anyone else on this team.” He said calmly.
It was silent for a moment. You didn't really know what to do or what to believe. All you had to go on was his word, which wouldn't normally hold much weight but something about him seemed so genuine. “I- how do I know you're not lying to my face? You hate me. And I’m just supposed to believe a random person made this rumor up when you've been trying to kick me off the team from the start.”
Price halted for a moment, his face reflecting a series of conflicting emotions. “I don't hate you, and I am not trying to kick you off.”
“Well, it sure as hell doesn't seem that way, even Soap said you act differently around me. I don't understand why you fucking hate me so much when almost all I ever do is try and suck up to you!” You shouted, your voice slightly slurring with how fast the words escaped your lips.
A vein bulged in Price’s temple, his jaw working with his growing temperament. “I don't know how often we have to go through this same conversation before you get it through your thick head. I don't hate you, I'm hard on you. There's a difference.”
“Well, that's not what it looks like to me. Especially not to the mystery person who just conjured a rumor that we’re sleeping together out of thin air.” You seethed, until now you'd been standing a few feet away from him. But somehow, amid the argument, you found yourself now uncomfortably close.
Price scowled down at you, “What do you want me to say to you?! That I'm sorry I also got caught up in some dumb rumor. That I'm sorry you got your feelings hurt because I was a little harsh.”
Your mind was telling you to communicate your feelings like a normal person. The alcohol and your heart told you your fist connecting with his face was the better option. And right now, your heart (plus the alcohol) was winning.
“I want you to fucking show me you don't hate me! You can say all you want that I'm just being dramatic but there's obviously a reason why I think you hate me.” You fired back.
The two of you stood there for a moment, his eyes drilling into yours. A scowl on Price’s lips and his eyebrows pinched together, there was something about the heat of the moment that made you more on edge. You were hyperaware of everything around you, most importantly you were hyperaware of your proximity to him. The night air was cold but you were on fire.
“You want me to show you? Fine.” He grit out, and before you had time to react he was on you.
His hand was on your neck, thick and warm. Pulling you close so that his lips captured yours in what you could only describe as ‘a hungry kiss.’ The coarse hair of his beard tickled your skin and before you even knew what you were doing, you started kissing him back.
Fuck. He tasted like smoke and whiskey, a woody smell clung to him like sap. Greedily your hands pulled at him, your fingers bunching the cotton of his shirt like he'd disappear. You'd kissed men before but never in your life had anyone kissed you like this. The kiss was hot, desperate, almost angry. His tongue slid along yours, you felt the drag of his teeth nip at your bottom lip and his throaty groan when you only pulled him closer.
You couldn't remember why he was kissing you, or why you started kissing him back. You didn't know why you were so angry, nor did you pay mind to the chance that anyone could walk outside and see the two of you.
You heard his crutch absentmindedly fall to the ground, clattering against the hard dirt. Price's other hand snaked to the back of your head, curling his thick digits into the locks of your hair. His nose brushed against yours, he felt so warm. Asshole or not this man knew how to kiss.
“[Name]!”
Gaz’s voice broke you out of the trance you seemed to have been under. Immediately you and Price tore apart, your heart jackhammered in your ribcage. You looked at Price, he looked at you.
His blue eyes were blown wide, his lips parted and shiny with the reminisce of your spit. A reddish tinge colored his ears and cheeks. He looked horrified.
You didn't fair much better. You probably looked like a gaping fish. You'd just kissed Price. Price had kissed you. You two had been kissing. Holy shit.
Footsteps snapped your attention away from him, Gaz ran to meet you. His breath heavy like he’d been running around for a good amount of time. “[Name] Price didn’t start the rumor- you left before I could tell you. I-” He stopped, his eyes darting between both you and Price. You probably looked as guilty as you felt. “I…uhm I guess you two worked it out?”
There was an awkward silence before anyone spoke, Price cleared his throat, quickly wiping his lips. “She’s aware… You two go back to the tent, it’s late. We leave early tomorrow so get a good sleep.”
You were still in shock, could you even move your limbs? Another silence hovered over the three of you like a looming dust cloud. Gaz awkwardly shuffled to you, patting your shoulder as if to say ‘party's over, let’s go.’ He nodded at Price, “Right, see you in the morning Cap.”
Before you knew it, your legs were moving as Gaz led you back to the tent. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, “You alright?” He said hesitantly. You didn't know what to say to him, you didn't even know what you were feeling. And you doubted saying, ‘Honestly I don't know because two seconds ago Price's tongue was down my throat and I can't tell if I'm turned on or horrified,’ was appropriate.
So, you settled for a simple: “I’m fine.” Gaz gave you a skeptical look, but he chose not to comment on it. Once you got back to the tent Soap and Ghost had already started to get into their respective cots. Soap gave you a funny look over his shoulder, “What happened to you? You look shell-shocked.” He laughed.
You didn't even have the energy to respond, giving him a disgruntled grimace in return. You fell into your cot, burying your face into the thick sleeping bag. Your cheeks burned, and the taste of Price still lingered on your lips.
Apart of you wished that you were blackout drunk, then maybe it would be easier knowing whatever happened would disappear by the morning. But his groans, his hands in your hair, his lips, they were carved into your brain. And they weren't leaving.
You had to grapple with the reality that Price had kissed you. And you had kissed him back.
.・゜゜・  ・゜゜・..・゜゜・  ・゜゜・.
Hey, wait! Don't go!
Well… hello there. It's me again! To those of you who aren't familiar, you can call me Baebae. And to those who are welcome back! I've written fanfiction a bit before (check out my other stuff on my home page) but nothing like this. So that makes this special, and I'm happy you can join me while I embark on this new journey.
There is no spice in this chapter but it is coming in the next part. There are only two parts to this so you won’t have to wait that long. Trust me I am trying my best to crank out the next one so I’ll try my best to be quick!!
I would be so, so, so, soooo grateful if you would like, follow, or repost. Don't feel any pressure but I love hearing any feedback you can provide as I am relatively new to this and it spurs me on to know people enjoy what I put out. If you so choose you can message me or comment if you'd like me to @ you in the next part so you're notified. <3
Anyway, hope you enjoyed this and I'll see you in the next part. Toodles! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
.・゜゜・  ・゜゜・..・゜゜・  ・゜゜・.
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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months ago
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Hey I liked your writing on reader having to get in between Wolverine and Deadpool all the time 😆 it made me think what it would be like if they were crushing on you and there is a rivalry between them. If you could write what they’d do to win your favor or what shenanigans that would come with it 😂 subtle or not
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These two weren’t fond of sharing.
So when the other finds that they have similar feelings towards you, the outcome is never good.
They’re childish in a way where if either Logan or Wade was coincidentally standing too close to you, the other was bound to notice and make a scene out of it, all the while you wished you were anywhere else in that moment.
The pair couldn’t get along even if they bothered to try as sooner or later they’d end up stabbing each other just because the other one was breathing too loudly or just merely existing.
And yet their feelings towards you ends up causing Logan and Wade to butt heads more often, especially if you were constantly teaming up together, with you often being their meditator in all their conflicts.
Wade was more vocal and borderline flirty when it came to interacting with you, he would crack jokes, boop you on the nose or even playfully smack you on the ass just to hear your yelp in surprise and become all flustered.
‘Plush ass you’ve got there, babe! wouldn’t mind laying my head on it sometime and use it as a beautiful fluffy pillow.’ - Wade, skipping away.
Wade could be quite clingy at times so there would be moments where you can barely escape the guy as he hanging on your side like a koala bear.
You: Wade can you let go.
Wade: and let go of my emotional support person? *gasp* Do you want me to die?
You: well considering how fast you regenerate, you technically can’t die-
Wade: do you hate me? Do you think I’m clingy?
You: no- well yes but-
Wade: you hate me!
Wade can be dramatic and the only way to shut him up is to just let him be in close proximity of you and allow him to talk your ear off about how good a dog parents you’d be to Dogpool.
Dogpool is your weakness, you could never say no to Dogpool and Wade knows this like the back of his hand and will use this as leverage over wolverine.
After all It’s not like he has a version of himself that was an actual wolverine or maybe even a honey badger in yellow spandex. So Wade counts this as a win on his end.
Logan on the other hand would be more subtle with his approach, even though to Wade, Logan’s subtly was as an dopey cow standing in a field of grass with how the scruffier man tended to keep by your side protectively; so much so that he might as well start growling at every person who ever laid eyes on you in general.
He’s a guard dog of a man in every sense of the word but how that came to be was from a whole lot of trauma and loosing people he’s ever cared about, so needless to say he won’t act like he’s interested in you at first, his heart had been wounded about as much as his body has and even had the mental scars to prove it.
He’s lived a long life of pain, fighting, suffering and heartache. He’s not going to falter so easily until you did something that made him feel safe enough to fall for you.
Once he has however it was impossible to go about the mission without him always wanting to stand guard by your side when he sees someone he doesn’t fully trust, always using his body as a shield for your own as Logan knew he could handle much more punishment then you could. So he’d rather avoid you being grievously hurt by any means possible.
He’d probably scold you if you ever were hurt as he was afraid that he might loose you, yet his hands were gentle but firm as they worked to patch your wound so it’d heal properly.
Wolverine: you’re an idiot you know.
You: wow I really feel the love over here.
Wolverine: *huffs* you expect me to kiss your ass when what you did was reckless and could’ve killed you? *his hands linger on your own even long after he’s done patching you up as though committing your warmth to memory*
Logan is a secret softy who wouldn’t push you away if you were to ever fall asleep on him, he’d grumble but that’s about it.
He’d even toss you his jacket if you were to ever complain about being too cold or leave it somewhere for you to take yourself, again he’d act like he didn’t want you to but he actually did with how he almost smiled upon seeing you looking comfortable in his jacket.
Logan is evidently more subtle about his crush on you then Wade is, or so he’d likes to think but Wade can messily tell he’s smitten when he sees how Logan’s eyes were quick to follow you in a crowded room with protectiveness and adoration.
Wade: aww has our dear friend taken the stick out of your ass and you fell in love?
Logan: *growls* fuck off Wade.
Wade: *holds his hands to his lips and gasps* oh my gosh! You have! Me too!
Logan: *looks at him* you what?!
Wade: yeah cats out of the bag, I like them too wolvie. you’re not the only one to find them cute, how close minded of you seriously.
They can’t share to save their lives, I’ve mentioned this before but they genuinely can’t even if they tried because one is them was bound to get jealous and try to take you away from the other.
Wade: do you really want to be near me grumpy all the time? Yawn fest much.
You: stop riling him up, you’re making Logan mad. Why are you like this?
Wade: maybe because you deserve to be in the company of someone who isn’t still unhealthily hung up on his previous red headed lover.
Logan: you shut your fucking mouth.
Wade: see! He’s not denying it!
You: I’m going to go now. *leaves*
Logan: you should make full time fuck head your job.
Wade: and you should make full time teenage brooder in a full grown man’s body who still isn’t over his first breakup yours.
The shenanigans that would occur between these two would be headache inducing to say the least.
The constant fights that would break out between them that you’d have to break up.
The bickering over who gets to act like a couple with you on missions. They might even play rock, paper, scissors multiple times behind your back.
Wade probably tried to trip Logan up in front of you once but it backfired when Logan made Wade trip up instead as he puts a hand on your lower back and guided you away from the poor Merc with a mouthful of dirt.
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ruthytwoshakes · 4 months ago
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team furries twoooo. And scalies. And whatever birds are.
please share and donate to this family of four, the youngest being only 2 1/2 years old. They need funds to safely cross to Egypt. If you donate something, send me a message with proof and I’ll draw you something nice as a thank you :)
Species and concept art under cut!
Sniper: so for some reason I was under the impression that Crocs were native to new zealand. They are not. Uh. Well. yup. 👍 it fits his personality. snappy n dangerous but real easy to get around if you just zig-zag. Why the long fa
Spy: Grey Fox. I was gonna go with a wolf because of his fursona but fox fits better wahhhh. Also means that scout is half fox! I’ll show that in more detail one day. Probably.
Medic: just like his Doves! The tail coat is actual his real tail. Featherrrrrs. Why are his nasty claws out? I don’t know he’s kinda weird like that.
Demo: TIGER!!!!! He’s always kinda reminded me of Hobbes from Calvin and Hobbes :) why did I draw him so cute. Somebody stop me before I draw them all adorable ough.
Engineer: the bulllllerrrrrrrrr. Sorry. He’s a bull, with a nose ring. Epic. Hooves for hands, gunslinger would look like a hoof too, gotta design that later.
Heavy: big badass brown bear. Love him. Instead of bullet he has honey sticks. It costs four hundred thousand dollars to harvest honey… for 12 seconds.
Pyro: fucking dragon. hell yeah. In pyroland they see themselves as a unicorn. Baller.
Scout: Bunny scout truther over here. You can thank @/teamfurtress for that. Please check them out, commissions are open! In my version he’s a hare but that is significantly less fun to say lol. Jackrabbit kinda guy.
Soldier: regular ole dog. ouppy to da max. He’s the most dog of the alol time and I’m tired of pretending he’s not. THE STRAPS ON HIS HELEMT ARE HIS EARS. HIS BIG TEETH AND OPEN MOUTHED SMILE. THE WAY HE MOVES. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!???!??????! That’s a grown man with dick n balls what am I doing
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Some designs for the side characters that I couldn’t be arsed to finish. Saxton is kangaroo because of corse he is. Admin is a bat because she never leaves her room, Pauling is mouse because is cute, Zhanna is bear like big brother, Merasmus is praying mantis, and Gray Mann + Olivia Mann are vultures! She’s so fluffy oh my god
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Concept time. I fell in love with wrinkly floppy dog sniper. Adorable. Unfortunately I already had a dog so he had to go </3 kangaroo sniper was also axed. rip girl. Lots of diff designs for admin! Curtesy of @stangeranfanficion (thank u for the ideass) eagle soldier because it’s funny. Also zebra Pauling! I really like this one. If I make a horse au she’s going to be a zebra.
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reveluving · 11 months ago
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Ok, so Soap and shy wife. We all know he's the definition of sunshine/happy puppy and has the energy of an entire class of kindengarden. Imagine when they first meet the couple and he's all loud and jolly, and wife quietly shakes their hand and says "Nice to meet you" and he INSTANTLY quiets, because he's proud of his Darling to meet his friends/family, also because they're all wondering how she puts up with him🤣❤
LOSING MY MIND AT "they're all wondering how she puts up with him" BECAUSE THAT IS BASICALLY THEIR DYNAMIC 🤧💗💗
Includes: tooth-rotting fluff!
COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌
Come & check out my COD m.list!
You just know this man does not shut up about you every time he meets up with his team for work. 
And then, one day, he surprises them with a “she’d love y’all to come over one day.”
“Didn’t you say she’s a lil’ shy?” Kyle voiced out everyone’s thoughts, so to be offered not by the man himself but the meek lady in question was a little surprising, to say the least.
“She is, yeah, but she’s open t’meeting a few pals o’mine.” Johnny meant it to sound casual, but with his mates knowing him for a long time, it wasn’t hard to catch the hint of care in his voice.
And, well, it would be rude to decline a lady’s generous offer, now, would it?
Johnny’s hyped, no doubt, his friends—no, brothers, and his other half finally meeting in person. They didn’t even have to ask, just by the way he was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel or the way he hummed to the radio, likely a playlist the two of you shared.
And with the boys holding some sort of gift for you, just as a thank you for the invite, you greet them by the door as soon as your husband announces his and his friends’ arrival. 
With Simon physically being the closest to you, you wiped your hands on your apron before holding your hand out. Simon nearly struggled with his strength, not expecting your lack of hesitation to greet him, out of all of them.
You introduced yourself, “It’s nice to finally meet you guys.”
Ah, such a sweet voice. So sweet that had Johnny not gone on and on about your shyness, they would’ve thought you were scared of them. But, you weren’t and the proud smile on Johnny’s face says it all. 
Why wouldn’t he? With your warm smile and even willingness to shake Kyle and John’s hands as well. Albeit, you had a habit of looking down every once in a while, especially if they tried to show their respect, i.e. complimenting your cooking, the decor or you in general, it was hard not to find you endearing.
But God knows how you, of all people, manage to put up with his nonsense. 
In the words of Johnny; “Opposites attract, after all.”
And seeing it now, to say Johnny was whipped…. Was putting it lightly.
It’s funny to see Johnny trying his best when it comes to lowering his gruff voice for you, even if you loved it just the way it is.
Though he has a lot of things to tell you, so much love to give you, you have his full attention the moment your lips part.
Each time you open your mouth, he closes his. As if fearing that one word from him would mean talking over you entirely, and he couldn’t bear the thought of that. The hearts in his eyes were tough to miss. He’s expressive, too, hanging on your every word like you were giving him a task when it was just you talking about how you learnt to make the lasagna you served for dinner.
‘SHUT UP, MY BABY HAS SOMETHING TO SAY’ type of beat, but it’s the man who’s saying it that has the loudest voice (and the gentlest heart).
But they’d be lying if they said they didn’t enjoy listening to the stories of how you met and how emo Johnny gets when the dates or outings don’t go his way, even though it all went well in the end.
Why wouldn’t they enjoy seeing his soul leave his body when you mentioned his baby pictures that his mother not only showed you but gave some to you as well?
“Johnny, c’mon, now, she’s a part of the family! She’ll need some photos o’you for when you move in together soon.” Says his mother, gifting you probably a stack of them, as if unfazed by the sight of you and Johnny covering your faces, the temperature of your body heat rising that even you feared you might pass out right then and there. He couldn’t even find the energy to stop his sisters from teasing him.
But besides allowing you to embarrass him a little, even if it wasn’t your intention, your home is another.
A small unit, located on the second floor. The candlelight colour, the cute indoor plants in each room, and the seats. 
Oh, the seats.
John nearly passed out just moments after he sat on it. 
Just by the way you maximized the apartment space, it’s no wonder Johnny always looked forward to returning home. Not necessarily the apartment, but to you. 
Dare they say, the visit felt like a ‘cultural reset’ (is that what the kids are saying these days?). Largely because one; they were able to finally confirm that Mrs MacTavish is a real person and two; one cannot simply ignore the dynamic you and Johnny have. It may be eye-roll-worthy to some, but Johnny learns it isn’t something worth fighting about. So long he has you, those people can yap and nag about it all they want. 
Bonus: John’s definitely the type of person to tell Laswell about it like it was some kind of a mission—like it was almost unbelievable to see you, well, you!
“M’tellin’ ya, Laswell. As soon as his wife had something t’say, he shuts up faster than when I tell him to.” He chuckled before taking a sip of his drink.
“Sounds like a keeper to me.”
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