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local-crying-boy · 3 days

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ℂ 𝕆 𝔻 𝕞 𝕖 𝕟 𝕙 𝕖 𝕒 𝕕 𝕔 𝕒 𝕟 𝕟 𝕠 𝕟 𝕤

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

What they do when their s/o passes out

Characters included: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, John ‘Soap’ MacTavish, Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick, Captain John Price, Rodolfo ‘Rudy’ Parra, Alejandro Vargas

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Lieutenant Quick On His Feet here

He’s quick to react when you start to wobble on your feet, or when you start to falter in the speed of your actions.

He stands by your side and either waits for you to pass out or for you to start to feel better.

^ He more so does this if you pass out frequently, if it’s not a common occurrence then he’ll hold onto your arm lightly as if he was support.

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish

He’s the type to not expect you to pass out (even if it is an often occurrence and he knows that it is)

The minute he realised you’ve passed out, you’re legs have given up and he’s already cursing out trying to catch you before you hit the ground

Now, don’t worry for he is a sergeant and his reflexes are pretty good (most of the time). You’ve never actually injured yourself because he might have been a little too delayed in catching you

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

Not as quick as Ghost in a way that Ghost is able to catch you before you hit the ground.

Gaz obviously isn’t about to let you hit your head, but it is a delayed reaction from him to the point where your knees have already given in and are about to hit the ground

He sits in the floor with you, your head on his lap if you’ve passed out once he gets to you.

He’d brush the hair from your face and quietly whisper that he’s there for you and that you’re okay, even if you can’t hear him and wait for your eyes to open again.

It’s a 50/50 chance you open your eyes to see a half-calm, half-panicked look on his face, or a opening your eyes to see him calm (but there’s something in his eyes that tells you his mf heart dropped).

Captain John Price

If you pass out when the two of you are at home, then he’s picking you up and setting you down on the sofa or bed (depending on where you passed out)

He’s mostly quick, like Ghost, because he rushes over when you give the slightest indication you’re about to pass out

You can thank the military for his wariness, but his wariness for you is a totally different thing

Rodolfo 'Rudy' Parra

Quick just like the others (I know this sounds like a damn broken record with the amount of times I’ve wrote this), however, unlike the others the concern on his face is as clear as day. No point in hiding it, you know he cares enough about you

When you wake up again, he’s asking if you want anything, like if you have low iron he’s asking if he can get you anything to eat that might remedy that. It was because of the heat? Okay, he’s so fucking quick to ask if you need a drink.

Even if you don’t need a drink, or food, he’s grabbing it regardless. He cares so much about your well being, you wonder if he cares more about it than you do

Alejandro Vargas

Has a little mini heart attack. And (if you pass out regularly) even asks you if you’re trying to kill him with the amount of times you pass out

If it’s a less occurring thing, he’s less obligated to try and pick out little signs that you might pass out (because he wouldn’t really need to)

But if you pass out often, he is so quick to realise when you are feeling even slightly dizzy, or the first to realise when you’re stalling in your movements, sometime even before you realise!

This mf is like a mind reader too, it’s like he just knows. You don’t even have to say anything and he’s ushering for you to sit down before you pass out, hands on your sides as if you can’t walk without him

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d0youc0py · 10 months

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Heyyy. This might b triggering so it’s okay if u don’t do it, but how would 141 + Konig react if reader was @ her friends house and got in the middle of an argument between friend + her bf and friends bf ended up hitting reader? (Kinda self indulgent 🫣)

“You always do this Simon!” You growled, shoving some clothes into an overnight bag.

“Do what?” He snapped back. He stood in the doorway, trying to slow his breathing. He was upset- more than upset, but he refused to loose his patience with you. “Just want to keep you safe kid.” He reminded.

“You’re trying to isolate me!” You shouted, making your way towards the bathroom. “Every time I try to do anything you always tell me it’s not safe- or that I shouldn’t trust this person. Newsflash Simon I have been able to survive on this earth without you.”

“I don’t like him.” He held strong. He wouldn’t compromise with you if he felt you were at risk. Your friend had invited you to spend the night at her house for a sleepover, and when you broke the news to Simon his first question was: ‘will that slag of hers be there?’ To be honest you hadn’t even thought about it. Why did it matter if he was there? You knew Simon trusted you but his constant distrust of other people was starting to wear on you.

“That doesn’t really matter Simon.” You sighed. You stood in front of him expectantly, waiting for him to move out of the frame. “Besides what evidence to you have against him?”

“He’s a strange man.” He responded.

“He’s not a stranger Simon. We’ve been on like three double dates with them.” You huffed, taking it upon yourself to push past him when he refused to move. He growled to himself, following you around the flat. Suddenly his hands gripped your hips pulling you back towards him. His neck bent down and you instinctually made room for his head by tilting yours to the side.

“Just stay home with me tonight, yeah?” The anger left your body at his soft words and the small kisses placed against your neck. “Or at least say you can’t spend the night. No reason for you to be away for that long.” You turned in his arms, placing a kiss against his chin.

“Simon I’ll be fine, yeah?” You murmured, causing another huff to escape him.

•••

That turned out to be a fat lie.

“Do you think Simon’s going to propose anytime soon?” She asked causing you to flush. “You two have been together for what, three, four years?”

“Just two.” You corrected politely. “I don’t know honestly, haven’t really thought about it much.”

“Such a lie.” She snickered, wiggling her brows at you. You rolled your eyes waving her off.

“Keep it down in there!” You both jumped at the sudden boom from the living room.

“Sorry Rick!” Your friend shouted, seemingly unbothered by his nasty tone. A pit formed in your stomach.

“He always talk to you like that?” You asked, keeping your voice down. She looked at you with a small smile.

“Just when I’m bothering him. Surely Simon snaps at you.” She explained. How could she not realize how out of touch her statement was.

“Not like that.” You said.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” You winced as Ricks voice rung out from behind you. How the hell were you suppose to get out of this one? “You comin into my house, filling my girls head with shite?” He snarled. You quickly stood up.

“No, course not.” You smiled, making your way towards the door.

“I’m good to her.” He huffed, following your footsteps. You nodded your head in agreement.

“I’m sure you are.” You offered a weak smile, peaking behind you to make sure you didn’t trip over any furniture. His arm darted out gripping yours, tugging you close to him.

“You’re sure?” He pressed. You were a quivering mess at this point. Fear and adrenaline being to much for your body to process.

“Rick!” Your friend yelled. He threw a harsh ‘shut up’ over his shoulder. Your mind raced trying to remember even just one technique Simon had showed you. You wished you had payed more attention, instead of just staring at his arms the whole time.

“You’re sure?” He growled again giving you a shake.

“Stop!” You shouted. It was met with a harsh smack to your face.

“I’ve got neighbors you little”- His words were cut off as Simon’s words finally rang through your head:

“When in doubt, aim for the balls or the throat.”

You decided the first one was the most viable option. It had caught him off guard enough to loosen his grip and it was all you needed, slamming the front door shut behind you. You had made it down the flight of stairs, your hands searching your pockets for your phone only to realize you had left it inside.

“Fuck.” You whimpered, trying to make heads or tails of where you were. You weren’t overly familiar with this area. But you were familiar with the fast approaching figure heading towards you. “Simon.” You gasped, hurdling yourself towards him. You didn’t know why he was here but you sure as shit weren’t complaining.

Even through your own shakes you could feel him tremble against you. You let out a sob as he tried to pull away from you.

“He touch you?” He growled, none of it’s malice towards you. Your cheek burned and you could only imagine the mark it had left.

“I want to go home.” You sputtered, burying your face in the safety of his shoulder. He swallowed down his anger to the best of his ability.

“Alright, sweetheart.” He murmured against your head. He carried you to the truck, buckling you up. He continued to let you cling to him until you had calmed, and the loudest thing between you two was his pounding heartbeat. “Tell me what happened, yeah?” He hummed, trying his hardest to fake some calmness.

“He grabbed my arm.” You whispered. His chest heaved. “And”- you cut yourself off. Taking a small breath you pulled away from him, his heated eyes quickly falling on the bruise already spreading over half your face. His face flushed, but he was able to hold in the burning of his body.

“Sweetheart.” He said slowly. He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Give me the apartment number.”

“1G.” You said, with surprisingly little hesitation. Whatever Simon was about to do, it was deserved.

When Simon came back he was shockingly clean, and shockingly poised. He tossed your overnight bag into the back seat and handed you your phone when he got into the drivers seat.

“Simon”- he cut you off by tangling both your hands with one of his, pulling out of the parking garage. You didn’t need to know. You didn’t need to know that he had broken down a door- and almost every bone in that man’s body. That he had been waiting outside the apartment building for the past three hours, stewing in his own protectiveness. Your friend wasn’t even mad. She didn’t bat an eye when Simon asked to use her bathroom to clean himself up a bit- not wanting that man’s blood anywhere near your precious body.

He brought your hands up pressing a kiss against your knuckles, pulling into the grocery store parking lot for a bag of frozen peas and ice cream.

He wasn’t suppose to be home yet. He had at least another week away- another week for your bruised face to heal. It had just began to look better, the harsh purple color fading to more of a greenish yellow color.

He opened the door, steadying himself for the only attack he actually enjoyed. Your pressing yourself as close to him as you could, tangling your limbs with any part of him, your lips suffocating any thought he had other than he was finally home with you. His stomach dropped when it never came, shutting to door behind him his bag thumping loud against the floor.

“Sweetheart?” His voice boomed, the worst running through his head. He reminded himself he wasn’t suppose to be home for another week and that you weren’t expecting him. Yet your car was in the driveway and there was still no sign of you.

“I’m here.” His shoulders relaxed, your voice melting his brain just right.

“Where are y”- he stopped himself. You were standing in front of him. The realization as to why you weren’t all over him right now crashing down on him harder than a bullet. You- his literal everything- adorned with a sickening brush on your cheek. The same cheek he would brush his beard against to make you laugh. The same cheek his fingers would stroke to self soothe when his brain was just too loud. The same cheek that would flush berry red when he mumbled certain things against you.

“I can explain.” You said quickly, allowing him to maneuver the two of you to the couch. You quickly found your designated spot on his lap, hoping your touch would cause the storm that was about to ensure lighten.

“I want a name.” His voice was calm. Too calm.

“It was an accident. Fell in the garden and hit myself on that big rock you keep telling me to look out for.”

He wasn’t buying it. His face stone cold, as his thumb traced over the healing brush gently.

“I’ll be good.” He assured. He couldn’t fathom why you wanted to protect this person. Must’ve been someone you knew. “Name, please.”

“John.” You whined, clawing at his shirt. He huffed and relaxed you against him, resting his cheek against the top of your head.

“You don’t want to tell me because you think I’ll overreact.” He couldn’t even blame you for that. The man would happily start a war over you. “I won’t touch ‘em, I promise.” He whispered. His hand rubbed up and down your back and you realized just how much you needed the comfort. His hand stopped at your neck, massaging the tense muscles. “Just need to know who hurt my love, hmm?”

“Promise you won’t hurt anyone?” You insisted using his chest to cover up a yawn. He hummed, nodding his head.

“Rick. Remember Kelsey’s boyfriend? I went over to her house and he showed up drunk yelling at her about some fight they had earlier. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut and before I knew it he hit me.” You explained. The normally comfortable body under you had turned ridged, his heartbeat drumming against your ear. “John?”

“That wasn’t so hard was it?” He chuckled slowly against your temple. “Did you”-

“Put a frozen steak on it? Yeah.”

“I’m sorry that happened darling.” He sighed. His large hands gripped your sides pulling you away from him just for a moment. “If something like that ever happens again you call me, understand?” His eyebrow rose to show his seriousness.

“Yes sir.” You swore a small smile on your lips.

He had kept his promise- he didn’t hurt anyone. But he couldn’t allow someone who hurt you live a comfortable life. It would go against his oath to you if he did.

And besides, someone has to make the enemy afraid of the dark.

He should’ve know better than to leave you alone. He thought that for just one moment while he went to the bathroom it would be safe. You had been tucked under his arm the whole evening, so everyone knew who you were there with. It was his fault for assuming his physique was enough to keep any unwanted advancements away. Time slowed as he came out of the bathroom, his trained eyes spotting you right where he had left you, except you were on the floor. Tears streaming down that perfect face of yours, your own hand cupping your cheek. He didn’t even need to see your best friend pulling at her boyfriends arm in shock- or the way his green eyes stared at his own hand like it had just appeared out of thin air to know what had happened.

Johnny was by your side in an instant, pulling your hazy body to its feet. He’d experienced this before on the field. Everything moving in slow motion- hyper focusing on the important things. Right now it was you.

“Mac.” You gasped, your fingers curling into his shirt sleeve. Like a shockwave he was pulled back into real time. The loud chatter of the bar. The smell of cigarettes and stale beer. The fear rolling off of you. It made his blood boil. He turned to look at Rick his mind going into autopilot. His hand shot out grabbing him by the shirt collar on flinging him backwards. The bar went dead silent the only sound was Ricks body slamming into the wall of liquor bottles behind the bar. Johnny took a few steps forward wanting to finish what he had just started. That wasn’t enough of a punishment. He wouldn’t be happy till he was unrecognizable. “Jo.” Your pleading voice snapped him out of it once more.

In that moment he realized how selfish he was. You were scared and needed assurance, not seeing your husband nearly kill someone. He wrapped a sturdy arm around you guiding you out of the disheveled bar. The cold felt good against your heated bodies.

“I don’t know what happened.” You sputtered, letting the Scot support your body weight. “Camilla was making a joke about how angry Rick gets when she folds his laundry wrong and I made a joke about how she still does his laundry and then he”-

You couldn’t even get through the story.

“Let me see.” Johnny hushed, gently removing your hand from your face. He leaned forward pressing a light kiss against the throbbing flesh. “How bad does it hurt?”

“Six out of ten.” You responded, nuzzling your way back into his strong chest. All you wanted was to be home in bed in the safety of his arms. The smell of pine tickled your brain enough for the tears to stop.

“Should go back there and”-

“No.” You huffed.

“That number is too damn high for me to let him off easy.”

“Easy? You threw the man across the room with one hand.” You reminded.

“Should make it so he only has one hand.”

“Johnny.” The use of his full name stopped the unintelligible Scottish rambling that was sure to ensue. “Can we go home please?”

“Hey sweetheart, need me to come pick you up?” Kyle spoke into the phone that was resting between his shoulder and his cheek. When you sniffled into the phone he didn’t even bother to pause his game, his fingers gripping the device in his hand.

“Ky.” You mumbled. You mumbled in that specific tone that cracked his heart in such a wince worthy way. “I need help.” His blood ran cold.

“Stay on the phone with me, yeah.” He demanded, shoving his feet into a pair of shoes. “What happened?” The sound of his car starting settled you a little bit. “You still at your friends house?”

“No, I’m down the street, by the library.” You sniffed. “He hit me, Ky.”

A sound let Kyles throat- a mix of a growl and a whine. His foot pressed even harder against the accelerator, running straight through a red light. His body was shaking, adrenaline heightening his senses. He wished the two of you didn’t live in such a big city with so much fucking traffic.

“Who’s he?” Kyle snarled.

“Jess’s boyfriend.” You emphasized. “They got into a stupid fight about which Pizza to order for lunch and all I did was fucking agree with her.”

He felt sick. He’d seen a lot of gruesome shit in his life, but the thought of someone hurting you took the cake. He could imagine how scared you were- how scared you are. He can see the tears welling up in your eyes and he imagined your heart rate was about the same as his right now. He can imagine you scrambling to find a way out of there- away from the danger.

“After this we’re practicing those damn self dense moves.” He gritted. You mumbled an ‘okay’ before seeing a familiar sleek, black car pull up next to you.

“How’d you get here so fast?” You questioned, hanging up the phone as he got out of the car.

“Let me see.” He insisted, pressing the back of his palm against your heated cheek. You winced, shying away. “Let’s go get you some ice.” He said mostly to himself. He rested a hand on the back of your neck guiding you to the passenger side.

He kept his hand in your lap the whole drive to the grocery store. “What pizza did he want?”

“Pepperoni with mushrooms.” You replied. The rest of the ride was silent, Kyle went into the store without you.

“Hold this against your face.” He pressed a bag of frozen peas to your cheek. He unwrapped your favorite candy bar, placing it in your lap. Even with your swollen face you couldn’t stop a smile. “I need to make a quick stop before we go home.” His eyes flickered over to you, the same flash of anger striking through him as he took your appearance in. You didn’t think anything of it till he turned down your friends street.

“Kyle.” You mumbled. The last thing you wanted to do was be back here.

“I know baby, I know.” He tried his best to soothe, but he was so riled up. He needed to get this out of his system. Besides he couldn’t just let people hurt you and get away with it. “Stay here, I’ll only be a second.” He closed the door behind him, grabbing a frozen pizza that you didn’t even know he got out of the backseat. You watched anxiously as he made his way up the driveway ringing the doorbell.

The door opened to reveal Rick and Kyle wasted absolutely no time shoving the frozen pizza in his face. The strength of it sent Rick flying backwards and Kyle took the upmost pleasure in the loud crack of his nose breaking.

“Traffic is bad mein Herz. I’m going to be a little late.” You huffed at his words.

“Drive safe I’ll see you soon.”

“He running late?” Your friend questioned as you made your way back into the kitchen.

“Yeah, should be here soon though.” She smiled, taking dinner out of the oven. “Help me set up?” She asked over her shoulder, making her way to the dinning room. You began grabbing the silverware out of the drawer.

“No, Konig?” Rick asked, sitting down at the kitchen island. You shook your head.

“He’ll be here soon.” You assured.

“That’s too bad.” His hand landing on your hip followed his slimy words.

“What are you doing?” You spat, backing away. He shushed you.

“Keep you’re voice down. Don’t want her to find us out, yeah?” He said, nodding his head towards the dinning room.

“There is nothing to find out!” You must’ve said it too loud, because Ricks hand flung forward connecting with your cheek. You dropped the spoons in your hand, then clattering loudly on the floor. You didn’t even have time to feel scared, catching sight of the colossal figure in the doorway.

Rick followed your gaze and it was almost laugh worthy at how quickly he lost all confidence.

“Schatz?” Konig held out his car keys to you. “Wait in the car, please.”

Gentle blue eyes watched you, almost chuckling at the way you skipped over to him. Konig reveled in the way you trusted him. Trusted him to take care of you- to protect you. Later he would wrap you up in his arms and hold a bag of ice to your face, but right now he had other things to deal with.

“And turn the music up. It might get loud in here.”

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cmncisspnandmore · 4 months

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Imagine being in a relationship with Dad!Simon and Dad!Johnny.

“Sweetheart?” Soap calls from upstairs, his voice echoing down the stairs.

“Love?” A second voice calls.

You put your finger to your lips. Shushing the small children in front of you. One standing in an emptied tactical vest. Her bright blue eyes looking back at you as she covers her mouth with her hands to quiet her giggles.

The other sitting on the floor, a skull balaclava over his head, but his whole face still visible due to the large size. His bleach blonde hair sticking out, and falling into his deep brown eyes. His own gummy smile matching his older sisters.

“Yes?” You call back, trying to hide the smile that creeps into your voice as your son reaches for you. His chubby toddler hand grabbing at the two sets of dog tags around your neck.

“Have you seen my vest?” Johnny calls.

“Or my balaclava? I swore I left it on the dresser..” Simon’s own voice calls. There’s soft murmuring at the top of the stairs as your husbands talk amongst themselves trying to figure out where their missing gear could be.

“Nope, haven’t seen them. Maybe they’re in the kitchen? I did do laundry the other day, maybe they got put in the basket.” You suggest, as your daughter giggles wildly into her hands. She knows her dads will have to pass through the living room where the three of you are sitting.

Two pairs of boots thud down the stairs as your husbands make their way through the house. Not even bothering to question you. As Soap and Ghost round the bottom of the stairs they pause. Smiles breaking out on their faces as they take in the scene in front of them.

You’re sitting on the floor cross legged, your back to them as your children peek around you. Your daughter losing her battle of containing her giggles. Your son clapping wildly as he sees his dads.

Your son is the first to move, his little arms and legs moving as fast as he can as he crawls across the floor to grab at the laces on Soaps boots. A babbling of ‘dada, dada,’ and baby screeching follows him.

Johnny reaches down and plucks the small child up off the floor, a huge smile on his face as he tickles him. “LT! Did you fall in the fountain of youth again?” Soap laughs, as the toddler laughs and screeches.

“I didn’t realize you liked sparkly pink nail varnish,” Simon grunts as your daughter laughs, pushing past you to stand in front of Simon.

“Daddy! Look I’m Dada!” She smiles, as Simon crouches down to her level.

“I see that Lovie,” he smiles, reaching out and poking her nose.

“And Brother is you!” She points to her brother, and looks up at Soap. “See Dada! It almost fits me!”

Soap sets your son down on the ground, also crouching to her level, “aye lass, soon you can go to work for me yeah? I can stay home with Mummy.”

“Mummy said one day I can be superhero’s just like you and Daddy,” she states proudly, as Soap reaches out to unclip the vest. Your son crawls over and starts tug at the mask on his head.

“Maybe one day, Lovie,” Simon mumbles as he pulls the mask off your son’s head, and presses a kiss to the blonde toddlers head.

“Here,” Soap says and he pulls the vest off your daughter, “Daddy and I have to go to work, okay?”

Your daughter face falls, “but you just got home..” she mumbles.

“I know baby, it’s just for a few days,” Johnny frowns, pulling the small girl into his arms and hugging her tight.

Simon stands, your son in his arms as he walks over to you and offers you a hand. You smile, putting your hand in his as he pulls you gently to your feet. “Looked like you needed some help,” Simon smiles. His hand sliding down to rest on the round bump of your stomach.

“Well if you two didn’t make such huge children maybe I would be able to get up off the floor,” you scold, a playful smile on your lips.

“Sorry Love, but I can’t help it. There’s just something about you carrying our children that makes us wild,” Simon whispers in your ear as he presses a kiss to your cheek.

You wave him off, as you watch Soap talk softly to your daughter who is doing her best to hold back her tears. She hates when they leave, and now that she’s older, the passage of time is a bigger deal to her. She knows that sometimes the few day trips turn into weeks and she hates it. For the most part she was a good sport about it. She would draw endless pictures and take videos for Simon and Johnny. But after Johnny got hurt on a mission, a gunshot wound to the shoulder she’s been more anxious about their leaving.

“Lovie,” Simon calls, as you take your son from him. The toddler settling into your arms, his hands grabbing the dog tags to stick into his mouth. Your daughter turns around. Blue eyes filled with tears, as she walks over slowly, her head slightly down.

Soap gives you a sad look as he walks over, and kisses your cheek. His hand following the same path that Simon’s took as he softly strokes your stomach. Simon leans down, eye level with your daughter as he talks to her.

“I know you’re scared that something bad is gonna happen to Dada, or me. But I promise you, I won’t let anything happen to him okay? Just like he’s gonna make sure nothing happens to me. I promise, I need you to be big, and take care of Mummy for us alright? Help her with your brother okay? Can you do that for us?” He asks softly brushing her hair behind her ear.

“I-I think so,” she mumbles, her voice soft.

“I know you can,” Simon brushes his fingers through her hair. Simon picks her up, and hugs her tight. Your daughter looks at you and Soap over his shoulder.

“Be good okay?” Soap smiles at her, and then looks down at your son. “And you mister, don’t cause too much trouble.”

Your son smiles and smacks his hand against Johnnys chest. “I don’t think he knows how to not cause trouble,” you mumble earning a laugh from your family. It was no secret that your son was a handful, taking after Johnny more than Simon. The image of him sitting in the fridge after he learned how to climb flashes in your mind.

“Okay Lovie,” Simon says, setting your daughter down. “Can you bring your brother to the playroom, so we can talk to mummy?”

“Okay Daddy,” she puts on her best smile and takes the toddler from your arms, holding his hands to help him walk to the playroom. As the door closes both Simon and Johnny move to stand in front of you.

“You gonna be okay?” Simon asks, his dark eyes on you.

“I’ll be fine Simon,” you smile, resting your hands on top of your bump.

“I know we’re leaving awfully close to the due date, I’d hate for to be alone when the new babe arrives,” Soap worries, as he pulls on his tactical vest.

“I’ll be fine, if something happens I’ll call Laswell and she’ll have both of your asses on the next flight home,” you roll you eyes. “Now go,” you wave them away, towards the kitchen.

“You don’t have to do that,” Simon grunts, pulling you into his arms by your hand.

“Do wh-what?” You mumble your voice tight, as tears burn in your eyes.

“Pretend that you’re made of stone,” Soap finishes Simon’s thought, as he also wraps his arms around you.

“We’ll be back Love, before you know it,” Simon kisses your hair.

“And in one piece too,” Soap adds.

“Promise?” You mumble into them.

“We promise.”

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defluw · 30 days

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Headcanons on your and Simon's children

• You and Simon have a son and a daughter who look a lot like Simon.

• Your son is a boxer, and sometimes he is confused with his father because he is just as tall and pumped up. (Even better than Simon)

• Simon visits a psychologist to deal with mental problems and not become the same as his father.

• Your daughter is literally the female version of Simon. At first you were upset that your children were a copy of him, but then you came to terms with it.

• Simon loves the homemade food you cook. But because of the problems with expressing emotions, Simon just says it's delicious and asks for more.

• Simon keeps his children's drawings in his office.

• While your children were sleeping, you told Simon that your daughter has a boyfriend. Simon almost fainted from the horror. In the morning, your daughter was waiting for an interrogation about the guy and a lecture that she was still small

• Simon was always proud of his son when he watched his fights

• Your children secretly wore Simon's mask and took pictures in it

#headcanon #simon riley x reader #dad!ghost #dad!simon riley #ghost cod #cod #simon ghost riley #cod men #children

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forsworned · 10 days

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one thing about me is i love me some elliot knight

#fuck #fuCKKKK #i love his smile so much #he’s so fucking sexy #elliot knight #kyle gaz garrick #call of duty #Kyle gaz #daddy #cod #cod men

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blooodsuckkr · 7 months

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♡ You're Ghost's wallpaper ♡︎

word count: 533

a.n. This is kind of rushed i apologise!!

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Ghost wasn't the best at expressing his affection, he made that clear when your friendship first developed into more. so he likes to find small, silent ways to show his care.

Making you your favourite drink after a long day, Helping you with some of your paperwork,

Taking pictures of you.

Most of the time he makes sure you're oblivious, taking small candid pics when you're doing something he finds cute, sometimes sending them to you. He's essentially your personal photographer, he takes great pictures too somehow.

His personal favourite is one where you're sitting with your knees to your chest, gazing at the sunset with the softest smile. The way the sunlight bounces on your features always makes his heart skip a beat.

so that's the one he chose to light up his screen daily.

Since he's not one to use his phone a lot and he won't exactly tell you, you won't know about it. Maybe you know the photo exists if he sent it to you, but nothing more than that.

----

He wakes up one morning, taking a few minutes to gaze at your still-sleeping form curled up against him. Running his hand up and down your spine. The gentle glow of light peeking through the blinds,

He eventually managed to will himself away from your warmth, stealthily climbing out of bed so you could have a little longer to sleep. He wanders through to the bathroom to shower, ready to start his day.

You awake a little while later, the faint sound of water running explains the empty bed. Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and sitting up, planning to start breakfast. You don't notice Ghost’s phone is on the nightstand until a notification lights up the screen, allowing you to catch a glimpse of a familiar person in the background. you.

The sight brings a smile to your face, The sentiment swirling round your mind as you head to the kitchen.

You're barely halfway through making breakfast when Ghost wanders in, as if he could already smell the food. Wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and tilting his face into the side of your neck.

“Good morning si,” You murmur, a low hum vibrating from his chest in response.

Both of you bask in the comfortable silence as you continue your cooking, Ghost eventually detaching from you to make himself, and you, a cup of tea. Leaning back against the counter a few feet away from you.

You pick up the cup with a gentle sigh, bringing it to your lips and meeting his gaze, “I like your wallpaper.” You smile. He almost chokes on his tea, feeling his cheeks heat up almost as much as the cup in his hand. You can't help but giggle, it's not often you get to see him flustered.

“Spying on my phone now, love?” He teases, a small smirk distorting his lips, “Of course not, you left it in the open.” you reply. He hums, taking a sip of his drink. A silence filling the air once more, you turn back to your cooking before you hear his voice once more.

“I like my wallpaper too”

#call of duty #cod imagine #cod men #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #mw2 x reader #rambles #simon ghost riley #mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty mwii #cod modern warfare #modern warfare x reader #modern warfare 2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you

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angelstate · 3 months

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“Unprioritized Love”

Husband!Price x Wife!Reader

Price is a loyal person, he thinks about everyone else before himself and doesn’t hesitate to do something he normally would be against if it means saving the people he cares for, it truly is a blessing at times, the way his priorities don’t falter…until they do.

because he is a loyal person but does not know or pretends not to know in which situations he should stand by one person instead of the other, it’s conflicting for him to choose someone when another person is also expecting his support.

it hurts a lot when you’re caught in that sort of situation with him, you’re his lover, his companion in life, and the person he returns home to, but you’re also the person he leaves behind for his team, you’re the one who waits around for him while the team gets him almost all the time.

and you know jealousy isn’t healthy, that you shouldn’t resent anyone because it's his job, he has to leave to provide for you, you cannot bite the hand that feeds you, it would be wrong, it wouldn’t be pretty, it wouldn’t be fair for him.

so you bite your tongue and nod like a child when he tells you about his job, about him going away once more, for longer this time. and the tears in your eyes are hard to be held back, because God, it hurts a lot to be left behind, all by yourself. away from your family and your lover, only an empty home to satisfy your basic needs.

He doesn’t mean to be an absent presence, the lack of a lover in your life. He truly doesn’t mean to give so little to you, to not hold you every night. but between his job and you…he knows which one he isn’t choosing even if he doesn’t say it out loud.

“I'll be back when I can, alright?” he speaks, voice gruff as he looks around the room, his hands on his hips, you stay seated on the couch, knees close to your chest and your eyes glued to the TV for a distraction, is better to pretend you don’t care than to show him how much you are beginning to hate the dynamic he created in your life.

“mhm” you hum in agreement, taking a big breath and holding it in before exhaling through your nose, not trusting that if you open your mouth, a sob wouldn’t escape, Price notices the lack of words from your part, you always have something to say, a small joke to make about him better bringing you a souvenir or something from his “trip” but when this time you don’t speak or even dare to look at him makes him anxious.

“Want me to bring you something?” he asks, taking a few steps towards you, looking towards the TV, a baking program playing, and your focus on the show makes him raise an eyebrow, you aren’t one to enjoy cooking so he doesn't understand why you’re watching it.

“no thanks” you respond, and the answer makes him feel like he’s done something wrong that made you upset, the last 4 days he’s been home replaying in his mind, trying to remember what could’ve made you get angry with him, nothing comes to mind sadly, and he feels clueless about everything surrounding you.

“I thought you don’t like cooking” He decides to comment, shifting the conversation to something more banal and easy to speak about. “I started baking almost 8 months ago” you answer him back, voice flat and your eyes strained on the TV, the recipe to make pavlova having your main focus, it makes Price frustrated, how you won’t look at him, won’t give him the time of day when he’s leaving tomorrow.

you don’t expect him to know how your life develops and the things that change when he's away most of the time, it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to pay you attention when he already has a tough and complicated job to do, his salary pays for the kitchen supplies and food after all. it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to know you... god, how stupid is that?

“You didn’t tell me” Price states, his voice carrying a heaviness that reveals he is irritated about not being told something he should’ve known if he paid attention to the new things in the kitchen like the stand mixer next to the electric oven.

“I thought I mentioned it when I gave you to try the brownies I made yesterday” you retort, your eyes landing on him for a second before returning to the TV, your gaze isn’t welcoming or warm and it creates a pit on his stomach to see you so detached and unresponsive to something he knew should make you upset.

It brings a sort of heaviness to his chest as he notices he doesn’t have the right to feel offended about not being told something when you should be upset about him not noticing in the first place something that occurred in his own home. It is hypocritical and he knows it.

Price stays silent for a long time, the sound of the TV filling in the silence that was created between the two of you, he feels out of place, not knowing how to answer you, what to do, what is the problem he feels he should be fixing right now.

“you should start packing” you comment after almost five minutes, and that phrase is said with a monotone tone, not one of sadness or a little bit of frustration that he’s leaving again, it's a tone that just states the obvious, you declare that he should pack his bag once more because otherwise he would leave with nothing for his mission and that wouldn’t be optimal.

“Can you help me pack?” He asks for a favor you often offer without him mentioning wanting your help. tonight you don’t offer assistance, almost like you aren’t faced by his departure, used to his absence, used to his side of the bed being empty.

“I’m watching TV” you speak and his heart breaks a little bit, you don’t sound apologetic as you often do when you’re not able to help him, and he’s leaving but he feels you left instead, that the girl he married is no longer in the house even though he has you in front of him, too focused on looking at the tv to help him.

he nods at your answer and doesn’t try to persuade you into doing something you don’t want to, it wouldn’t be fair to force you to help him just because he wants you to, it isn’t fair for you to give a hand and for him to take your arm. Loving someone isn’t really fair.

Only when he leaves the living room to go pack do your tears make their way out of your eyes, running down your cheeks as you cry silently, vision too blurry to even distinguish the images on the TV, it feels almost pathetic to be crying alone, your lover packing to leave and not be able to bring yourself to help him abandon you once again.

If you were his pet it would be abuse for him to just leave, but you're a woman and therefore being alone and left behind isn’t unexpected, being the one to stay home is almost an obligation when your lover leaves to provide for you even if you wish they stayed.

you’re not sure how it begins to be fair to be put in this situation, when the missions of 4 weeks turned into 4 months. When knowing everything about each other turned into barely remembering anniversaries and birthdays.

You don’t want to say the relationship fell apart because you doubt there’s anything at all to be destroyed anymore, you love him though, the pain in your chest and the tears falling from your eyes are proof of that, but you are not sure John loves you.

It’s uncertain how he views you after not spending time together for almost two years, you doubt there is nothing more than just an acknowledgment of your existence in his life, a statement that he knows you're his partner but not enough love to call you his lover.

“Why are you crying darling?” the sudden voice of Price pulls you out of your thoughts, the place next to you on the couch sinking as he takes a sit beside you, resting his elbows on his knees while his eyes examine your expression, you look utterly distraught about something, your breathing uneven and shaky as you begin to sob loudly, unable to talk as all your emotions came crashing down.

and the sight of you crying, digging your nails into your thighs, and being desperate for a peace that will not come, makes a heavy feeling of guilt and worry sit on his shoulders, wrapping an arm around your waist and another under your knees, bringing you into his lap and putting your face on the crook of his neck while you cried, sobs muffled against his skin, your tears wetting his shirt.

“take a deep breath love” Price says in your ear, your breathing so erratic that it makes him worried you will suffocate at some point because of the lack of oxygen in your body, he feels your chest against him as you do as he told you, taking deep breaths the best you can, trying to calm down for your and his sake.

you’ve never been one to cry with so much despair, to need his comfort in times of need because you managed well on your own, he was never around to solve your sorrow either so why bother? But today, he is the reason you're crying and it seems fair that he is the one to comfort you, that your only chore is to cry and keep your breathing somewhat stable while he does everything else to fix what he broke.

He doesn't know where to begin though, unaware of where he stands or what he should do to bring peace into your mind, what words will fix his mistake, and what words will tear you apart even more, he doesn’t want to cause you harm, not consciously, not right now. it wouldn’t be fair to you, it wouldn’t be fair to your heart, it would be cruel. and he doesn’t want to be cruel to you, not anymore.

“I’m sorry love…I should’ve been good to you” he whispers, kissing the top of your head, rocking you back and forth on his lap, soothing you like he would to a child, his voice low and soft, his hand caressing your thighs in a comforting manner.

“I don’t know why I didn’t notice that you started baking, it was wrong, I didn’t notice you when I should’ve noticed every change you’ve had over the last two years” he continuous, speaking out the guilt he carried in his chest the moment he saw you and heard you break down into tears, your sobs engraved in his mind.

“I’m really sorry for missing out on all of this when I was gone, I shouldn’t have been such a bad husband, you don’t deserve that” he sighs, his eyes stinting a little bit from the tears beginning to form, and your calmer now, sniffling and whimpering, the tears slowly stopping, but it seems that your distraught was transferred to him because he doesn’t feel at ease, he feels the guilt eat him alive while he soothes you.

“I don't want you to leave…” you mumble, adjusting on his lap, your head resting against his chest, you have never wanted him to leave home, to go on missions for months on end with little to no contact with your lover, it feels like you're mourning him every time he goes away and doesn’t give you a small message to let you know he wasn’t killed.

“I know sweet girl” he replies, he doesn’t want to leave either, he never wants to, even though he continues to do so. It's a complicated situation, one he doesn’t dare to think about too much because he’ll end up ripping his heart out, his loyalty not being able to distribute equally for you and his team, always the latter winning even if he doesn’t dare to admit it.

he wants to promise you he’ll return quickly this time and will take a leave just to spend time with you, to dedicate more time to what's left of your relationship, he doesn’t want your marriage to fail, you’re the only woman he wants, the only one he had ever seen himself grow old together, he doesn’t want to let that go because of his own stupid and selfish mistakes.

He has to leave tomorrow, but when he’s back he’ll fix everything.

“I'll be back soon” he mumbles against your hair, face buried in it as breathes in your smell, trying to engrave it in his mind, to not forget this time details about you he has always loved.

Thankfully, his promise becomes reality, and after two weeks of loneliness that have never felt heavier on your chest, he returns, a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a smile on his lips, happy to see you, to see the warmth and loving gaze you always give him back in your eyes after all this time.

He steps through the door, your face pressed against his chest, refusing to let go of him, fearing he would leave even if it wasn’t unreasonable, he had returned early for you, he had seen his mistakes and was fixing what never should’ve been broken

Peace is restored in your home, love is flourishing once again in your marriage, and whatever plans you had made to start over get discarded, you’re already having a fresh start, one that doesn’t involve leaving your lover. this time is a start with a more conscious man who is ready to do everything right by you, to never let his job affect the way he loves you. He's learning that his wife comes first, that his life outside of the military also has the same and more importance than his job.

(little reminder: I'm taking requests if you want me to write something specific xx)

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issdisgrace · 1 year

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Gaz: Ok so how many shots would it take for you hook up with each member of the 141 including me.

Y/n: Hmm. Probably at least 5 for Ghost so I can get over the intense stare he always has. For you, soap, and roach probably 2 just for courage.

Gaz: And the captain?

Y/n: Dead sober, ain’t no alcohol needed to hype me up to rail that man. Like he’s honestly a dilf and if I got the chance I would hit it.

Price: Good to know you think I’m a dilf and you’re not so bad yourself y/n.

Cue Y/n and Gaz screaming and jumping into each other's arms like Shaggy and Scooby

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angelsworks · 3 months

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Goldilocks and the Four Bears

I haven’t written for the cod fandom yet so all the 141 might be terribly out of character. In fact I haven’t written for a while. I appreciate all the people that still read my work and continue to support me. I hope you’re all doing well :)

Poly!141 x reader

Masterlist -> Here (will be made later :))

Warnings: 18+, mature themes, descriptions of torture, injuries and mistreatment, etc

Summary: After escaping from your last mission that had gone terribly wrong, your stumble through the woods leads you to a log cabin.

It was snowing. Fucking snowing.

Any belief in a deity had been long since crushed after the last few months. Well you thought it had been months. Your captors (a small but deadly terrorist group) had failed to provide you with your own calendar and clock. Much like how they had failed to provide you with new clothes to replace your own, that had been ripped and torn and become tattered to the eye.

It was stolen clothes you now wore as you made your escape. Trudging slowly through the already six inch snow, your thoughts trailed to the fresh snow adding to the existing six inches. The size 12 pair of boots were rubbing at your heels with increasing vigour. Leading you to contemplate if bruised skin could blister or not. The guard you’d killed as part of your escape had been good for one thing. Or three things actually. The ill-fitting boots, a loose pair of combat trousers and long sleeved compression shirt.

As you made your way through the terrain you felt a cold chill steadily working it’s way up your trouser leg. Slowly, spreading across the flesh, affecting any skin that wasn’t in direct contact with the trouser material. It made you wish you’d waited for a guard more similar to your stature. While the compression shirt was better than nothing, it was still thin. The flimsy seeming material now doing little to ward off the cold.

Maybe the sudden awareness of the less than ideal weather conditions wasn’t down to your stolen clothes, but the sudden loss of adrenaline. How long had you been running now? Well trudging desperately through the snow, making your way further and further into the thick forrest and fauna.

It was hard to try and map where you’d been, what direction you’d walked in and where you’d come from. It was all white. Every tree looked the same. Every incline became and decline and you’d become disoriented.

Months of abuse, of torture, ofpain. All ignored for a few short hours as you willed your aching body forward. Through trees and snow and stone. Through anything that would put you at a greater distance from them, from Miasma.

They hadn’t transported you. At least you were mostly sure. When you blacked out, you woke in the same dingy cell, on the same dingy floor. Only covered in more bruises or cuts. So you hoped you were where this all started. In Slovenia.

You’d done solo missions before. It was easier that way. One man in, one man out. No one to turn on you or leak information. With Gunner in your ear, nothing ever went wrong. Until it did.

Your objective was to gather intel. To stay under the radar before formulating the next attack. While sneaking around you’d learned just how large their operation was. In turn you’d also learned just how large their base was.

The small outpost hid underground levels. That became clear after your covert operation was blown and you were dragged down to the very heart of the multi-storey building.

Each day (if that’s what you could call them) gave you no indication of the time of day or how much time had passed. They made sure of that. In fact it was the first time in months you’d seen the light of day.

The light that you noticed was now fading apparently, as you looked desperately up into the sky. Grey clouds had rolled in, covering the majority of the sky. The sun was still peaking out from the dense overcast that was rolling further forward. Soon the sky would be covered and the snow fall would quicken.

A few miles back you were struck that no one from Miasma had followed you. You’d expected armed guards to be shooting at you and angry dogs to be tearing at your ankles. Yet you’d had no chase.

Maybe they knew you would get nowhere in the climate. That you’d be weakened by the terrain and from the violence you’d endured. They were right of course. But you didn’t let it stop you.

Even now as you’d gone further, you still felt the burning desire to survive. Granted it dwindled under the ache of your body and the never ending valley of white before you. But you wanted to live. You wanted your revenge.

The final rays of the sun had been clouded and the snow started to pick up. At least your footprints would be covered under the fresh snow. Not that it mattered if all your footprints lead to was a frozen corpse.

Flexing your fingers, you found yourself wishing for gloves. Your toes were long past numb and every injury you’d endured felt like it was waking up. Old cuts that had turned to scars felt fresh, bruises that had yellowed felt like they’d returned to their starting purple colour. Your felt heavy. You felt dense. You felt tired.

Your desire to drive on had dwindled now. The once raging fire was now only a candle. A candle that was down to its wick. The wax around it long since melted and now it was to its edge. Trying to burn the glue that chained it in place. The image made you crave warmth even more.

Was this it?

All the work you’d put in over the years. From a child you had trained for a mission you didn’t fully understand. A mission that belonged to someone else, to Gunner. He’d turned you into a soldier, his perfect soldier.

Is this how his perfect soldier died?

No it wasn’t.

So despite your blue fingers, numb toes and foggy mind, you push on. Just a little further, you tell yourself. Past these trees, past this stream, past more trees.

Your doubts evaporate when you come upon a clearing. You find a decent space boarded by snow dusted trees from all sides. They stand tall, seemingly acting as natural walls to protect those inside. The grass is covered in undisturbed snow. It’s thick and white and makes you smile.

None of it matter though because sitting in the middle of it all if your salvation.

A log cabin.

You consider the sight to be a mirage. Created from and low blood sugar, dehydration and desperation. But you trudge on, almost to a stumble speed, as you reach for the door handle.

It’s unlocked.

Despite any moral compass telling you that breaking and entering or trespassing is wrong, you ignore it. You’re hurt, aching and this is a last resort.

You close the thick wooden door behind you. Taking note of the copious locks it has. When you move inside the cabin you find that no one’s home. As quietly as you can on stiff legs, you sneak around the house. Trying to wake up the instincts you’d been trained on.

Enter a room, check your surroundings, check again. Don’t assume anywhere is empty. Threats could be hiding around any corner.

So for each room of the ground floor you do just that. Open door, check the rooms, move on. From your searching you’ve found a large living room, a kitchen, a dining room, a toilet some sort of office/drawing room. The decor gives you no clue as to who’s house you’ve invaded. There are no pictures of people, no personal possessions. It feels surreal. And wrong.

To start with you go back to the living room. Using the large fireplace, stockpile of logs and matches, you start a fire.

Again, better sense would tell you to avoid such an action. To avoid alerting anyone of your presence here. But you decide to put sense aside in a bid for survival. If you didn’t get warm soon you were sure you’d be frozen soon.

Next you go to the kitchen. You rifle through the cupboard in an attempt to find something edible. To your surprise you find the place to be well stocked. Even going as far as having fresh milk in the fridge. The sight confuses you. Send alarm bells ringing in your ears.

There are products in the fridge that are in date. Fresh products. Yet no one is home. It doesn’t make sense.

As you empty a can of soup into a pan you realise, it doesn’t need to. You’re happy to play stupid and see this as all some sort of blessing, some miracle.

While the soup cooks you fill a glass with clean, cold water. Relishing in the taste of something fresh. When you’ve downed the first glass you refill it again. This time with an intention to make it last longer.

After the first spoonful you find that you like vegetable soup very much. Almost burning your mouth as you devour it in a few minutes. Immediately it feels as though you’ve been recharged. The warmth from the fire has spread throughout the ground floor, your fingers have warmed around the bowl of soup and your body no longer feels related to a glacier.

The sky only darkens as you sit by the fire. Basking in the warmth and taking a moment to rest for the first time in months. You don’t imagine ever leaving your spot on the floor. But the promise of a bed upstairs has you moving your legs in that direction.

Before your ascent to the second floor, you strip your clothes and hang them on a drying rack you found to the side of the fire. Now left in the nude.

Upstairs you find multiple bedrooms. All almost identical, except for one at the end of the hall. You assume this is the Cabin’s master bedroom as it’s slightly larger than the others. Inside there’s a wardrobe full of clothes, a full length mirror, a TV, some sort of game station, and of course the larger than most bed.

In the mirror you catch sight of yourself. The cuts of course stand out first. From the slight turn you can muster in your neck, you can see large welts and thin cuts, bruises and scrapes, all littering the previously plain skin. From the front and behind, your legs look like a Jackson Pollock original piece.

Capturing various purple and blues surrounded by smaller splodges of green and brown. With the occasional black blob or two to really contrast the overall tone of the piece.

As a child you had a strange infatuation with your bruises. Likening them to a sticker or badge of achievement. They were easy to come by during training. A strange part of you liked the way they looked on your skin. They acted as a log book of the hits you’d taken, the falls you’d taken, any sort of impacts you’d had. They made you feel strong, maybe even proud too.

Staring into the mirror at your body again, it all seems worthless. You knew you were strong before. You didn’t need months as a prisoner to prove it.

You take a few steps forward to properly look at your face. Who stares back must be a stranger. You haven’t let your eyebrows be this out of shape since you were thirteen. You didn’t have that scar above under your chin before. Your eyes were always so bright and vivid. Not lifeless or hollow or so lost.

With newfound energy you take yourself to the nearest bathroom. That just so happens to be the en-suite in the bedroom. It doesn’t surprise you. Nothing about this abandoned, well stocked cabin does anymore.

Instead you shower in one of the nicest bathrooms you’ve been to in a long time.

At first the water has you freezing. Not due to the temperature but because of the fire it lights on your back. Every scrape, every cut, every burn now being cleaned. The cleanse sets your body alight. In a way you feel the heat is helping you to heal. Granted, all you have to show for it is a mixture of blood and grime, floating slowly down the drain. But it’s more than that.

It’s the last few months being scrubbed off your skin. Your wounds and ailments being shown that this is the end. They can heal in peace. You can heal in peace.

So you take your time. Using any products you can find; shampoos, conditioners, body wash, face wash. You’ve acquired a new razor, fresh from the packet. It’s amazing what a difference shaving your legs and various other places can do to your mood. You’ve always preferred removing the body hair. Afterwards the feeling of smooth legs under a thick duvet made all the work worth it.

The final step, bar drying yourself, was brushing tour yellowing and plaque ridden teeth. The minty taste in your mouth feels unfamiliar but it welcomed nonetheless. Wiping your tongue across the now almost pearly-whites you’re happy with how smooth they feel.

Now showered, shaved and dried, you make you way into the bedroom. Finding the wardrobe and drawers to be filled wit strictly masculine clothes. You pick out a pair of boxers and one of the large white t-shirts to sleep in. The shirt dwarfs you in size, looking more like a dress. Not one that you would wear outside though. Not with the black boxers showering through the material, or your hardened nipples making an appearance.

With your towel back in the bathroom and the lights off, you crawl into bed. Letting out the loudest sigh your sore throat could muster. Then quickly falling asleep on the linen.

It was snowing. In fact it was a fucking blizzard.

A barrage of white, dagger-like snowflakes pelted against the four men. The lack of light and the dense haze of the storm made it impossible to see where they were going. They were all thankful for the less than modern compass. Hidden away at the bottom of Jonny’s bag. When he acquired it was unknown. But the four were grateful nonetheless that the Scott had the dated equipment in is kit.

After their week long training they were ready to fall asleep on the nearest surface. The blizzard they now faced was an unexpected one. Nothing on Price’s radar Gad alerted them to such a storm.

They’d just finished their survival training in the mountains when the first snowflake formed. During the rest of their descent it had only worsened.

As the snow around them thickened they trudged on. Becoming more aware of the weight of their kit, ache of their muscles and chill in their bones. These men were tired, hungry and cold.

After more miles and more words of encouragement from Price, Gaz was sure they were close to the safe house now.

Laswell had been kind enough to let them use the safe house after a particularly gruelling training exercise. It would be the closest thing to a holiday the 141 would get this year. Before the worst of the storm it had the Scotsman joking that he would build a snowman outside. An idea quickly shot down by Ghost in the interest of remaining vigilant to an enemies surrounding the house.

While snowmen were out of the question, snowballs were not. Something Ghost found out, twice, in the back of the head. Turning to see an innocent looking Gaz and Soap.

“You’ll regret that when we’re back on base and you two are on shit duty” the balaclava wearing Brit grumbles.

Soap sighs dramatically, “Oh come on Lt. Dinnae be like that, it was only a joke”.

The threat prompts Kyle to add, “It was all Soaps idea, think he should get shit duties on his own.”

Soap gasps feigning offence, “You bleeding clipe, don’t come knocking on my door when you want someone to warm your bed tonight.”

The comment causes the younger man’s face to heat up and laughs to come from the others.

“That if we get there in this blizzard” the captain quips. Trying to keep morale, but refusing to ignore the sinking feeling that they’ve missed the safe house completely.

“How far now?” Gaz asks, determined not to start pestering like an insolent child. Yet equally determined to have a proper meal and get out of his cold clothes.

“Two klicks north, then we should be there.” Soap tells him, loud enough for the others to hear in the now whipping winds.

“It was two klicks north last time someone asked Soap, are you sure you’re reading that right lad?” Price finds himself asking. Despite his rank, his military expertise and all his training agains the elements, it doesn’t make him immune to the cold. Immune to looking forward to sitting by a fire with a cup of tea in his hands.

Laswell wasn’t one to be stingy with safe house stock. From previous safe houses he’d been to that she had set up, they’d been a home away from home. Proper bedrooms, running water, stocked shelves. Price found himself ready to welcome anything that had four walls, a roof and could shelter him and his men from the storm.

“Two klicks north Captain, I’m sure”. Jonny confirms.

Sure enough, through the dense curtain of blizzard, light emerges. A gentle glow against the black nights sky. The closer they get, the clearer the house becomes.

A log cabin.

A big one at that. The sight is inviting enough to bring a smile to the men’s faces.

“Laswell’s outdone herself this time, fuckin yaldy” soap practically exclaims. Pushing forward to the front of the pack, in an effort to get in first.

“Hold it Jonny,” Simons voice is quiet through the mask, but harsh enough that the others can hear.

Ghost points to the chimney, “someone’s here”.

Sure enough as the others look up, they too see the plumes of smoke, gently rising from the brick chimney.

“Another team captain?” Gaz finds himself asking, while reaching for the know hidden in his thigh holster.

Price finds himself doing the same, “No, we’re the only ones in the country.”

The tension in the air is thick, rivals the thick snow pelting down on them. The four of them stand motionless, a short distance from the front door. Covered head to toe in winter gear, a layer of the snowstorm attached to anything it can stick to.

“Right, there’s only one door. I’ll lead. We’ll secure the ground floor first. Stay silent, we do this quietly.” Price commands. The men nod, moving to grasp their various knives. Following their captain as he moves to the front of the cabin.

With an almost inaudible creek, Price turns the handle of the door. Pushing the oak forward, grateful that it seems to glide over the wooden floors. Allowing him and his men to breach the property without alerting its inhabitants.

Price enters the living room first, signalling for the others to spread out and search the rest of the floor. He does indeed find a crackling fire, yet no one man’s it. The warmth is welcomed, but for the time being he ignores any desire to sit near it and warm himself.

His attention moves to the drying rack set up beside the fire. Upon further inspection of the items he finds combat trousers, a compression t shirt and a pair of large boots, size 12 he gathers from the label on the tongue. The clothes are still damp to the touch, leading him to infer that the intruder arrived a short time ago.

The badge on the arm of the shirt catches his eye. He rips it off the Velcro and examines it up close. An unknown insignia, contractor perhaps? Some new found terrorist group? Price doesn’t know. It’s not one he’s come across before.

Simon searches the kitchen. The space is a decent size, dark too. He blends into the shadows as he checks the space for any sign of life. He finds a empty soup can on one of the worktops. Turning to the sink he notices a single glass and pan siting there.

Once finished in his search he creeps back to the living room. Finding his captain there, along with a stoic looking soap and serious looking Gaz.

Price raises his hand to Simon, showcasing the fabric insignia to him. With cold eyes Ghost runs over the stitchwork. Mind running through the possible groups it could be associated with.

“Any ideas?” Price asks in a hushed voice.

Ghosts silence is a loud enough answer for the group. No

“Whoever they are haven’t been here long. Their clothes are still damp. Large boots, size 12.” Price goes through the details he’s uncovered.

“Men’s?” Gaz asks.

“Most likely”.

“There’s a pan in the kitchen. They’ve had soup. Only one glass.” Ghost reels off.

“We don’t know who we’re dealing with, could be anyone. Stay vigilant. Be prepared for a fight. I’ll take the lead upstairs. Shout if you find anything.” Price commands.

The team follow him single file up the stairs. Weapons at the ready as the sneak up the steps. Footsteps light on the wooden floor.

Price takes the first door, Gaz the second, Ghost the third and Soap the last door at the end of the hallway.

While three of the 141 find their rooms to be empty, Soap stops in the doorway. After almost silently twisting the door handle and letting it slide open, he stands in silence. What he didn’t expect to find was a girl sleep in the master bed, a pretty girl to be exact.

The Scotsman finds himself lost for words. He expected to have to fight someone of his stature. Maybe larger. He expected to walk away with a bruise or two. He feels lost on what to do. Should he wake her? Should he leave her?

Meanwhile the others have gathered in the hallway. Sharing a concerned glance at their teammate.

“What is it soap?” Ghost asked quietly.

“It’s a lass. A bonnie lass at that.” He tells them. Wonder in his tone as he stares at the sleeping girl. Watching as her chest rises and falls at a steady rate. Completely unaware of the four men that have entered the house.

The men collectively frown, walking further to investigate themselves. Sure enough, after they pass the threshold of the master bedroom, they too stand frozen. A girl. Not a man, or group of men. A girl, sleeping in their bed, in their log cabin.

Completely unaware.

#angelsworks post #dark #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod men #ghost cod #cod x reader #cod mw3 #soap cod #cod gaz #cod price #cod kyle gaz garrick #cod simon riley #cod john mactavish #cod john price #poly!141 x reader #poly!141 #dark!141

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ghostswoman · 6 months

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𝗞𝗢̈𝗡𝗜𝗚 is the type to push you down onto the bed with your upper body laying on the mattress and your hips and ass up in the air. As he pushes his strong hips against your bum as you can feel the outline of his dick pressing against your cunt,your wetness almost dripping through your panties and leggings. Chuckling lowly as he noticed how easily he could push you around and you would bend at his force like he wanted you to.

“Oh poor mausi are you already so wet for me hm?~” groping your ass cheeks with his strong hands as you softly whine at the roughness of his grip as you pressed yourself more back against him. Smirking under his mask as he just let out a deep hum while continuing to roughly massage your ass cheeks while you just are trying to not pounce on him to finally touch you where you needed him. “please..” letting out as soft whiney plea flee out of your mouth.

Letting his strong palm connect to your ass with a harsh spank as he just grabbed your hips harshly back pressing you fully against him. You could feel the hardness and heat against your pussy as you just crumble more under him and his will. “Patience is the key Schatz.” As he softly leaned down as his arm stretched over your head to hold himself up as his strong chest made contact with your arched back. “You know what happens when you get greedy liebling.”

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rottenlennon · 2 months

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cod art dump featuring ghost and soap being trans <3

#cod fanart #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #soap cod #cod men #ghost cod #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghost x soap #digital art

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callsign-songbird · 2 months

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Gym buddy Simon

(Small chubby fem mc)

Gym buddy Simon. Soap set him up for one of those stupid "find me ___ person" sites as a prank, and he never expected Simon to find someone that he LIKED. And yet, there you were. Sending him a sweet little request, trying to work on your self-confidence. Tiny chubby little thing. Simon is immediately smitten. He knows that he's going to be more of a personal trainer than a gym buddy, but he really doesn't mind. Just means he gets to watch you sweat and work for HIM. And oh, he likes that. He loves it when you sweat, when you whine because something is a bit too heavy, or you can't take much more; he loves watching your muscles work and strain under your soft layer of squish. Honestly? Simon loves that squish. He has to focus on his own workout whenever you do jumping-jacks or anything that makes your little bit of chub bounce. If he does happen to see it, he'll become almost entranced, imagining kneeding at the soft flesh and littering it with kisses and bite marks, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your plush hips and grinding you back against him. Before he realizes it, his mask has a small wet spot from where he was drooling. He's never been so excited to go to the gym. You're such an absent-minded thing, forgetting the most important things sometimes. But, it's ok because Simon always brings his gym bag, which is always loaded with snacks, protein shakes, pre-workout, hair ties, water bottles, and even some extra gym clothes. He's also incredibly accommodating and pays attention to small things. You have better cardio when listening to a certain playlist? He talked to the gym staff about using their speakers. Nervous about people watching you? Well, he's got the perfect little secluded corner for you. Feeling stressed? He's a great listener! On your period? (He figured out your tells pretty easy) he's got Midol and some feminine hygiene products in his bag of tricks, too. Eventually, you run into the rest of the squad at the gym, and he gets possessive! Long story short, this is a need.

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d0youc0py · 3 months

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heyy - 🍄

Can you write something with 141 reacting to the reader going to sleep alone in another room? like just the reader wanting to be alone or they fought. the way you prefer

Hurt/comfort ♥️ your writing is my favorite

Hi! 🍄Thank you so much! I absolutely loved this prompt!

He thought you were being dramatic. Too sensitive. And he made sure to let you know.

“It was just a joke, sweetheart. Nothing more. I’m a light sleeper, you know that.” His voice was careful, yet firm.

Even though he had assured you he hadn’t meant anything by it, here you were, staring at the ceiling as pm turned into am. He had his arm snug around you, tucking you under his chin. Normally this position had you out like a light, but now you were just focusing on trying not to breath too hard.

Earlier that day the two of you were relaxing on the couch when you commented on his yawn.

“You’ve been yawning a lot, Si. Should put you to bed early.” You snickered.

“Your fault.” He yawned again. “Movin around every five second.” His tone was teasing. His fingers even brushed up and down your foot that was resting in his lap. Despite this, your heart dropped. Were you really that uncomfortable to share a bed with?

Laying in bed was growing increasingly uncomfortable. Your side ached from you spending too much time on it. Your nose hadn’t stopped itching and it took everything in your power not to scratch it every five seconds. Even your quieted breathing felt like it was shaking the bed. The guest room was sounding more and more inviting. You’d be able to flip over whenever you wanted. Scratch that nose of yours, all without having to worry about stirring the sleeping giant behind you.

You carefully gripped his arm and squirmed your way out from under it. He woke up halfway, holding his arm up for you.

“Sorry, Si.” You whispered, guilt already tugging at you.

“Don’t even think about it.” He assured in a groan. He watched with curious eyes as you disappeared down the hall, instead of going to the bathroom like he assumed you were. You must be getting water.

One minuted turned into three, then three turned into five. He huffed, rubbing a hand over his face, your side of the bed already growing uncomfortably cold. His socked feet sunk into the plush carpet as he made his way down the hall. The kitchen light wasn’t on, but the guest bedroom that was normally shut was wide open. Even in the darkness he could make out the lump of your body- already asleep.

The realization was instant. And it hurt.

“Sweetheart.” He knocked at the open door. He didn’t feel too bad about waking you up. He needed to. You gasped awake, your head springing up from the pillows. It seemed even your absence kept him awake. “What do I have to say for you to get out of that head of yours?” He hummed, plopping down next to you. He leaned over you, pressing a slow kiss against your forehead.

“I just feel bad knowing I’m constantly waking you up.” You murmured, rubbing at your eyes.

“Sweetheart, waking up to you isn’t something to feel bad about. It’s nice, being woken up just because someone wants to be closer to you. Now we are going to knock it off with all this ‘afraid to wake me up shit’ and go back to our bed, you hear me?”

You did hear him.

“John, enough! I’m tired of arguing with you, I’m ready to go to bed.” You growled. He followed closely behind you towards the bedroom, unbuttoning his white dress shirt.

“Yeah, let’s just go to bed and forget all of this happened.” He mumbled from behind you. You began tugging off your clothes, throwing a glare his way.

“Don’t do that.” You chided, throwing you clothes on top of his in the hamper.

“Do what?” He gruffed back.

“Mumble things under your breath.” You explained. He tsked and rolled his eyes at you. The action caused another flare to ignite in your stomach. He reached into his dresser and pulled out a nightshirt, tugging it over his head. He reached back in and grabbed one for you, holding it out to you expectantly. It was your favorite shirt of his to wear.

“I’m not wearing that.” You spat, turning away from him. You marched to your shared bed and grabbed your pillow, beginning to make your way down the hallway.

“Where are you going?” He stopped you. His large frame taking up the whole doorway.

“John”-

“Love.” His voice was calm and you hated it. He should be more upset. Upset that you were upset with him. “Don’t go”-

“Why should I liste”-

“You need to stay in bed with me. That’s where you belong.” He said it as though it was a fact. “I know you’re not too happy with me right now, but you aren’t sleepin away from me tonight, honey. Now let’s go brush our teeth.”

*this is so dramatic*

Johnny had fucked up. He admitted it too. Yet it seemed no matter how many apologies flowed from him- you were determined to put a rift between the two of you. At least that’s how he saw it.

You yawned next to him on the couch, your hand brushing some hair out of your eyes.

“Gettin sleepy?” He hummed. You smiled softly, nodding your head.

“Should probably head to bed.” You yawned, stretching as you stood.

“You remember where it is?” It was a snotty comment. Distasteful. You had been sleeping in the guest bedroom for the past week. He was able to choke down his hatred for it the first few days, but after you referred to it as “your room” all grace had been lost.

“You just can’t help yourself can you?” You growled, not bothering to wait for an answer.

“Just don’t understand why you’re so hell bent on punishing me.” He shouted after you. You stopped, turning on your heels.

“Punishing you?” You snarled. “The only one getting punished in this situation is me John. I know to you I’m being dramatic but I really don’t know how I can trust you after all those shitty things you said to me.”

His chest twisted and his hand scratched at his shirt.

“I don’t know what else to do, sweetheart.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft and it made you feel worse than you already did. “I’ve apologized in more ways than one and I’m still not getting through to you. I’m not saying I’m giving up, I just miss you. I know lashing out at you isn’t the answer.” He sighed rubbing at his face. He was exhausted- that was evident just by looking at him. You were his safe place- his favorite person in the whole world and he hurt you. “I made a mistake saying nasty shite to you, but I hope you remember everything before that. We’ve been together for years and I hoped I’ve showed you just how much I love you in that time.”

By the end of his speech tears were rolling down your cheeks.

“Dammit, Mac.” You huffed. You moved forward quickly, practically flinging yourself at him. He reciprocated immediately, wrapping his arms tight around you with no intention to let you go. He wouldn’t let go till you forgave him.

You woke up to two arms wrapping around you.

“Ky.” You grumbled sleepily.

“You took so much medicine, I didn’t think you’d wake up.” He whispered back. You were sick and the last thing you wanted to do was get Kyle sick. He rubbed his hands over your stomach, the action already lulling you back to sleep.

“I just don’t want to make you sick.” You murmured. He ‘tsked’ at you, pulling you even closer to his warm body. You wished it was easier to stay away from him. He was the perfect temperature for your chilled body and he smelled like vanilla and coffee.

“I’d wear it like a badge of honor.” He smiled against you. You rolled your eyes.

“You just always find a way to make everything romantic don’t you.”

“Well I had to get you to fall for me one way.”

“Are you going to be this cheeky when you get sick?” You hummed.

“I wasn’t planning on it, but challenge accepted.”

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imsilay · 2 months

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You let out a content sigh in your half asleep dazed state, not knowing what you’re doing to him. Your face buried into his chest and arms thrown over him, your hair covering his chest randomly. And it didn’t bothered him a bit. If it was possible he wanted you to suffocate him with your presence. But the thing that left him breathless was how your body fitted with his. You completed him without even knowing it. He almost squeezed the breath out of you when you pressed yourself to him like a puzzle searching for its place. He’s your other half, he’s the ocean that isolating the island, you’re meant for him and he’ll protect you even if it meant to hide you from the world.

i saw this in my dream and wrote it half asleep lmao.

#silay #könig #konig cod #konig x you #konig x reader #könig x reader #konig x y/n #könig fanfiction #cod men #cod x reader #obsessed könig #könig x you #könig x y/n #i know it’s könig #konig mw2 #konig #konig call of duty #könig cod

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sopiao · 9 months

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könig who is absolutely head over heels for you.

talks about you so much that you’re surprised when his comrades knows quite a bit about you when you drop in for a brief visit.

goes on various and long tangents and rambles about you, sometimes he just forgets he’s talking to other people and just continues his ramble in German.

which leaves his comrades and teammates confused but not wanting to disturb his babbling and just leave him to talk to himself at this point. it’s not until later, in the middle of the night, that he realizes it.

most of his mates can’t even believe him whenever he talks and describes his lover, how sweet they are, the funny interactions and moments they have, and just how drop dead gorgeous you are.

König gets slightly offended but understands that sometimes not even he could believe it that he has such and amazingly beautiful and wonderful partner.

“Know what? I call them right now”

and when you pick up, replying on you laptop that’s sitting on your bed next to you while laying down in nothing but a black tank and his grey sweats (that you love to see him wear), their jaws drop.

“Hallo, leibling!”

“Hey, Ko!”

not only are they just stunningly gorgeous, their voice is just so comforting and energizing to hear. they all just stay quite and witness the conversation between the two.

in the middle of the conversation he just forgets that he called them for the sole reason to prove to his friends that you’re real, and he just skips himself to his room and plops himself on his bed like he’s on cloud nine.

i like to think that this 6’10, pure muscle of a man lays on his stomach and kicks his feet in the air when he talks to you or when he hears you talk, maybe even twirl a lock of hair in his finger.

when you drop by the base to go give him a quick visit before you have to leave for engineering college, both plans overlapping, so you won’t be available when he gets out.

he’s happily waiting by the entrance, rocking himself back and forth on his heels with his arms behind his back, as he bounces with excitement.

when your large truck parks and you hop out of the car, not even bothering to turn off the car, as you run up and meet König in the middle in a snake trap of a hug. tightly snaking his arms around you, as he spins you around. Price and Soap laughing at the very visible height and size difference between the two.

when the large Austrian man let you down back on the gravel road.

you barely reached his chest.

the 141 found it cute and quite wholesome that you had to pull him down by his vest and you pushing yourself up on your tippy toes to give him a kiss on the nose.

when König finally formally introduced you to his teammates, you were very much like him, shy and introverted. König was quite comfortable with them so he was happy to be your voice to them.

the rest of the boys were stunned and slightly nervous as well. hands shaking or face blushing when you individually shook each of their hands, but they still gave you a warm and inviting welcome.

even when their in the common room, either talking or planning their next plan of action for an upcoming undercover mission.

but of course König was more occupied with you, of course, there were no other seats (lie) so you had to sit on his lap, his hands either wrapped around your middle or resting on your hips.

when you both thought that no one was looking or paying attention to you two, you would look up at your boyfriend and he’d cover both of you under his sniper hood to give you a quick peck on the lips and a nuzzle his nose against yours.

omfg

when you sit normally back on his lap and he looks back up to his comrades, and sees all of his friends staring that their with a teasing smirk or a ‘really?’ face. They both covered their face in embarrassment, showing how similar they both are.

no doubt that Soap and Price are teasing the two when they both sleepily walk into the kitchen for a cup of coffee, König walking in shirtless instead it’s on your sleepy figure. jokes and jabs are thrown at the sleepy couple as König just waves them off as he leans against the counter, sipping a cup of coffee as he wraps his arms around you while you lean your back against his chest.

they didn’t really mind you being there, they were happy to see their teammate so happy and energetic, much different from how quiet he is.

when you do leave since you can’t stay for long, he stays on call for you all night while you drive, wanting to make the most of it. he knows he’ll be tired in the morning. but for you? worth it.

by the time it’s 3:52 AM he’s on the verge of drifting off into deep sleep, muttering and mumbling responses, 90% of them not even being in english or coherent german.

you called him to try and keep you awake during your drive, but just knowing he’s there on the other side of the line is enough to keep you content. it’s all about quality time.

#call of duty modern warfare #konig cod #konig fluff #konig headcanons #konig x reader #konig fanfiction #könig x you #könig x y/n #könig imagine #könig mw2 #könig headcanons #könig my beloved #cod fanfic #cod men #cod mw2 #kortac #hes such a cutie patootie #konig acting like a puppy in love #task 141

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