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callmegkiddo · 42 minutes

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Love how Simon immediately turned religious

Hey hun, so I've been listening to Jinjer, she's a metal singer. And her death growl is just incredible as well as her ability to switch . So I'm curious to how 141 would react to a s/o that could do that, have a lovely month ^_^

Listen bro- I love metal- I listen to I Prevail, BabyMetal (hate me if u want idc), Bring Me the Horizon, hell a lot of the time I will fucking hit the shuffle on a daily playlist and it always gives me a new one to fuck with.

But let me tell you. Nothing prepared me for that lady. Ho-lee-shit.

I love her. Adding her to the list thx for the recc-

Now onto the mf ASK:

Price I feel wouldn't be like. Phased? Like he'll maybe be like "wtf bro?" but that's about it. If you do it just to get a reaction he'll probably have that peepaw-ass smile he gives to Laswell in that one scene where they're building a task force.

If he WAS giving you a reaction it would probably be a genuine shock. Like Nikoli was listening to some heavy shit in the MWIII Campaign just fixing up his plane. So for a pure case scenario, if Price had a S/O that sang this shit for funsies? I can see Price inviting Nikoli.

"So you said your partner was a performer?"

"Oh yes. Yes yes, quite the performer."

And here you come up singing smoothly, siren-like, and then boom- the growls begin to emanate from your throat, like a straight demon.

"You sure know how to pick 'em, Captain."

"That I do, Nik. That I do."

Ghost is much like Price after a while but at first, he'd be confused. But I would imagine he finds out by pure accident. It's not like you try to hide it per se- it's just never come up.

But it's probably such a funny fucking convo.

I can imagine you working out, if you're a soldier maybe on base or if not then in the comfort of your home/garage, and he goes to find you and just H E A R S the screaming coming from your headphones. Like omg, that cannot be fucking good for you bro.

"Oi."

You're just chillin', hanging off the mf pull-up pole, and he's just watching while you begin to mumble the words.

"Oi! Can't even fuckin hear me-"

but then you start to sing along, head banging as you reach for some weights to put away. He's reaching out his hand to get your attention when you take a deep breath and growl out "You think you got it bad? Well, you're leavin' in a BODY-"

You turn and screech in fear, the growl immediately leaving and replacing with a high pitch.

Ghost is staring at you with a small bit of fear in his eyes. "What the bloody hell was that?"

"You scared me!"

"I scared you? Do I need to call a bloody priest?!"

Gaz, however, would lowkey vibe with it. I'm not gonna pretend to know what this mf listens to, but A big chunk of me doubts it's this. But then again it's always the sweet looking ones.

So for this one say he does listen to metal.

He's probably bickering with you on who's got that fkn dawg in them that growls and screams the best and the songs you hear them from. Then he decides to (in your words because you need to get him flustered or off-topic cause tbh you're so losing this playful little banter) 'mansplain' to you how a proper growl is in these songs.

And you l a u g h in his face. So naturally, he's like "Oh you think you can do better, sweetheart?"

To which, you grin, and do just that. You show him your fucking vocal range and holy shit the way you can go in and out of it is fucking mind-blowing to him.

"Just how long could you do that?!"

"This whole time!!"

"And you've been keeping this from me!?"

Soap is one that just fucking rocks with it. I can imagine you two driving somewhere blasting this shit and he gets surprised that you can match the singer, even the screams and the growls.

It bleeds into the karaoke nights you have with him, just the two of you. But it's like a kid at Christmas.

He's finished badly singing his bit and he hands you the mic while opening up another beer.

"Sing that one ye love oh so much."

"No! That one hurts!"

"Then sing one part and I'll do the rest!"

You agree with little argument, listening to a long guitar intro as he giddily sits up, head banging starting to match with the growing sound of drums.

"Here we go- here we go-!"

You start it by straight screeching into the mic, (at a distance) Soap following along from his respective spot.

The two of you jumping up and down as if you were performing this for real.

Oh yeah. Johnny MacTavish knows how to get down with metal. And his s/o couldn't be a better fucking match.

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callmegkiddo · 49 minutes

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DREAM BLUNT ROTATION ft. HIGHAF!POLY141

Synopsis: Silly 141 getting high with reluctant but experienced reader, happy belated 420 yall

Warning(s): Drug Use, Poly!141, AFAB!Reader, Sexually Suggestive?? Barely Proofread (i'm dyslexic sorry)

"This is an awful idea..."

Kyle's tone is halting as he observes the way, Johnny begins to pick apart the large bud of weed and spreads it out on the rolling papers that Simon purchased not too long ago. Simon wouldn't say where he pawned off the necessary ingredients for a good blunt, and neither he nor Johnny were going to ask.

"Don't be such a wet blanket, Kyle." Simon quips at the uneasy Sergeant.

Johnny snorts as he brushes off the stickiness of the bud and the aroma is rich, sweet, and pungent as it fills the Lieutenant's dorm. If they received any disciplinary action, Simon would take the fall (which was mighty presumptuous of him being that all the resin glands were on Johnny's fingertips, but they digress).

"Ease off on him, L.t.. He's the teacher's pet amongst us, like." Johnny winks at Kyle.

Kyle's face contorts in disgust and betrayal. "Piss off, MacTavish."

This sends the troublesome pair into a fit of giggles, but suddenly the door opens and they're all jostled by the new company. You freeze as you look at the three bozos lounging around in Simon's room. Crushed-up cans and empty bottles of ale were tossed around the room, half a eaten pizza left out on the coffee table where Johnny was busy rolling up a joint.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Your tone is exasperated and beyond wanting to comprehend why in the entire fuck they were deciding to roll up in the Lieutenant's room.

"Why." It wasn't even a question. You really just demanded an answer at this point.

"I didn't—" Kyle is the first to open his mouth, but you close your eyes and hold your hand up to stop him. You shake your head and then sharply exhale as you shut the door behind you.

"Good girl." Simon sarcastically praises as you wordlessly sit next to Kyle.

Johnny giggles at the way your cheeks puff up in embarrassment as you tuck in your legs and lean comfortably to the side.

"Fuck you." You spat at him. "I could have you reported."

"Under what jurisdiction?"

You sit there with a disgruntled expression on your face and you're aware of the smug look that hides behind his stupid balaclava-clad face. Johnny isn't even high yet, but he's giggling like a maniac at everything Simon says. It's the thrill of getting caught red-handed with contraband and bloodshot eyes that makes him lightheaded and giddy. Not that they were bound by any real-world laws or regulations because the 141 operated outside the chain of command, but Price finding out would certainly be a damper in their mood.

But your frown turns into an evil simper. "I'll tell, Price."

And the mood drops for a moment, but Simon loves to challenge you. It's practically etched into his DNA to rile you up in any way he can.

"Go ahead, ducky."

"Don't call me that."

And Simon's hit a nerve, but that all seems to dissipate as soon as Johnny places the rolled-up joint between his lips and sparks up. The first sweet inhale relaxes every rigid nerve in the Scotsman's body as he passes it off to his Lieutenant and leans against the wall. Simon lifts his mask and your jaw ticks at his exposed flesh. His lips are a pretty pink that wraps around the spliff, before toking the absolute fuck out of it and holding it in before exhaling it out through his nose.

The pair exchange a look before nodding and grinning at each other. "Tha's good shit, maaate."

"C'mon, Kyle." Simon coos, beckoning him over. Kyle moves ever so slightly in his direction, but your hand grasps his wrists halting him back.

"Oh, come now, [name]. Don' be uptight. 's all good vibes round 'ere." The masked idiot smirks at you before passing it off. Kyle glances over at your disapproving stare before hesitantly taking a hit. It doesn't even take a second before he's coughing his lungs out and Simon and Johnny are cackling, keeling over on the tiny bunk. You think it may break under their weight at any given moment, but that's just wishful thinking.

"That's not how you do it, Kyle." You chide, seizing the joint from him and you're drawing in the smoke yourself as you demonstrate the proper way of inhaling it. Simon and Johnny go silent as they observe you clearly very shocked by your sudden volunteer.

"Gotta hold it properly." You bring the joint to your lips, comfortably positioning it between your fingers. "Don't inhale too quickly, or you'll cough your lungs out like you did just now. Take your time and hold it before releasing it, slowly." You indicate to him once more and the THC unravels months of built-up tension embedded in your body now that you got a proper hit.

You peer down at the spliff as you exhale the smoke. "Damn, that's good shit. Where did you twats get this?" Chuckling a bit at your usage of their own slang on them.

"Though' we were pourin' poison in the well, but the water is already spiked, it seems." Simon is lying back against the wall, propped up on his elbow with one leg flat and the other is bolstered up. He's relaxed as hell, surveying you like a cat as his tail swishes around with piquing interest. And Johnny is like his orange cat counterpart, licking his paws and rubbing his head as they lounge together on cloud nine.

"Mmm, she's always been like that. Naughty lassie." Johnny teases as he moves closer to you. He's sitting on your right as he eyes the way Kyle successfully follows your directions.

"Aye, tha's a good lad." Johnny praises, rubbing his thigh and Kyle is blinking up at him with hazy, honeyed eyes.

And for some reason you're taking offense to that. "Hey what about me?" You pout at him.

And he's beaming when his baby blues flicker to you. Calloused palm flattening against the expanse of your exposed flesh, riddling your thigh with gooseberries. There is a slight snatch in your breath as he caresses you but you don't move away and it's quickly starting to feel a little heavy as you feel everyone's eyes on you.

But before your body can even react, the door is getting barged into and there stands a very irate Price who literally looks like steam is pouring out of his ears. And just when you think that you're all about to get your asses handed to you, Price plucks the spliff from Kyle's fingers, opens the window and everyone is clamoring to rise from their seats thinking that he's going to toss it out. But you're all dead wrong.

My mans is taking the biggest puff out of all four of you before he jovially steeps the smoke out of his nostrils and he's nodding in approval, "Aye, tha's good shit."

There's a collective sigh of relief that settles upon the 141 before Simon speaks.

"Christ, Boss, least warn us."

"Thought y' were gonna bite o'r heads off." Johnny leans against the window sill, left of his Captain.

Price chuckles as he takes another brief toke before passing it off to Simon who was on his right.

"I should've, you lot were gonna finish it before I even got a toke."

Simon gazes over at you from where he's posted, inhaling the last few hits of the blunt, but you and Kyle are fucking zooted. I'm talkin heads rolled back against the couch cushions and you're gone.

And he is choking on the smoke as he laughs at the both of you before Johnny and Price glance over and join him. Their giggles attract your hazy attention and you lazily toss a pillow at the back of Johnny's head. But then you're cowering away as he approaches you in a jokingly menacing manner, wrapping his arms around you like he's about to perform a tickle attack.

The sound of your stomach growling rips through the silliness and he pouts at you and rubs your belly.

"You hungry, ducky?" Price is towering over you from behind the couch you are situated at, tucking the stray hairs behind your ear and you feel your cheeks warming up at your Captain's sedative voice.

You nod at him with a giddy smile, and before Price even opens his mouth Kyle is pulling up his Uber Eats app to order everyone's go-to Chinese take-out meals.

And as Price is extolling his Sergeant by lightly massaging his shoulders, Simon is taking your chin between his fingers and tilting his head at you.

"Y'got everyone at y'r beck an' call, ducky." But the nickname no longer has its previous bitterness. It's replaced with endearment as he pinches your cheek and that draws out a smile from you.

"Didn' know ye were s'experienced." Johnny's warm breath fans over your neck and you're starting to feel a buzz that's reminiscent of your uni days.

You hum in response as you feel Price's fingers gently scratch at your scalp, and there's a gentle euphoria that warms you to your bones.

"Quit yappin' her ear off." Price scolds the two, but something about the way you're being simultaneously taunted and dotted over is starting to ignite a bit of desire within you.

You shut your eyes and all your senses feel elevated as you're being coddled on all sides. And as much as Simon loves getting under your skin, there is something about the way you're blissfully sitting there not having a care in the world as everyone trills around you.

"Like a kitten." He warbles, caressing your cheek and you lean into his touch.

"A very cute kitten." Johnny nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck as his fingers brush against your knee. A giggle leaves your lips and you're squirming away from his ticklish stubble.

But every way you're moving, you're in the hands of a different man who's relishing in your coquettish behavior. It's overstimulating really. So, the minute you hear wrapping at the front door you're jumping out of your seat to check out who's behind the peephole.

But it feels like a slo-mo scene as you're running away from the giggly, dazed men who follow closely behind you. By the time you're reaching the door, Johnny has already tripped over the end table, Simon is heaving for air and slipping over the barstools in the kitchen in a loud clatter, Price is attempting to help them both up but can't stop laughing his ass off and Kyle, well, mans is passed out on the couch with his mouth wide open.

You can hardly even contain yourself as you open the door, and the delivery man on the other side is flummoxed yet amused at the men in the background and then there was you. Giddy as hell, palms facing up with the most bloodshot eyes.

And before he can even get a word out, Johnny is wrapping his arms around your waist and carrying you back to the couch while Price is sending him off with a wad of cash as he grabs the food.

"Chattin' up the delivery lads, aye?" Johnny teases, as he pulls you into his lap and begins to tickle you. The smell of food is waking Kyle up from his little half-baked nap and he's ruffling your hair as food is being passed out.

"She doesn't need to bother. She's too fit for that." Kyle opens up his kung pao chicken and the smell floods into your nostrils, but he's already on it. "Say 'ahh'." He lifts the chopsticks to feed you the delicious morsels and you happily accept it with a jubliant hum.

"Spoiled little thing." Price chirps as he shoves his lo mein into his mouth. The sauce coats the corners of his mouth and the ends of his stache.

"An' who's fault is that?" Simon gestures at his Captain with his chopsticks. It was true. As their Captain, naturally, they fell in line behind him, so when they saw how he would pamper you excessively they would do it too. And not because of the fact that they were good little soldiers, but because it opened the doorway for them to openly chat you up or (consensually) feel up on you.

Price lets out a hearty laugh. "Ah, bullshit! The minute you lot clocked the opportunity to grab her, you were all over it!"

Johnny licks his lips as you feed him a crab rangoon. "Can ye blame us?"

You quickly cover his mouth with your hand and scrunch your nose up at him. "Don't talk with your mouth full, Johnny!"

He playfully nibbles at your hand and you're then being scooped up by Kyle, who is more than happy to accept your weight in his lap. And Johnny is moaning about how you're being stolen away.

"She's not being swiped if she's scarpering off by herself!" Kyle laughs as he's swatting away any attempts at Johnny trying to confiscate you back.

So, of course, Price wants to dig his heels into Simon when he sees how lackadaisical he is.

"Simon couldn't pull her even if he gave it a good go."

Dark, piercing eyes dangerously flicker to the smug Captain who lays back against the arm chair, sipping on his ale and waits as he takes the bait. One thing that Simon doesn't like is when someone's threatening his hold on his position in any type of situation that especially being you.

"I don't need t'bother." He retorts, taking a sip of his own drink as he man spreads on the sofa.

"Oh, and why's that?" Price is intrigued now. Simon narrows his eyes at him but continues to stuff his face with food, sticky bits of rice garnish the sides of his mouth. This doesn't stop the Captain from pressing the matter and it's now starting to capture your attention as Johnny misses your mouth when he attempts to feed you some stir fry and it stains for your cheek instead.

But Simon is effortlessly patient and cool as a cucumber when he's being dogged on by everyone now, and you're observing the situation closely. He carefully wipes his mouth with a napkin, takes a last swig of his drink before he gets up to clean up after himself. And Price is almost convinced that Simon has given up as used, balled up napkins are being tossed at him by Johnny and Kyle, but in one swift movement you're being tossed over the behemoth's shoulder. A squeak barely manages to escape you as he pats your ass and the others are scrambling to get you as they playfully jest at Simon.

"Ah, no fair!" Johnny tugs at Simon's waistband, and lets go with a loud snap to his pelvis.

"Unhand her!" Kyle laughs as he tries to grab your foot, but he's only left with your ankle sock.

And while those two idiots finally gather themselves to give in to chasing after him, Simon is booking it to his room, and Price is left cackling on the armchair enjoying the rest of his meal.

"Simon!" You giggle, as he's enforcing the door and locking it with one arm as you barely dangle off his shoulder.

He balances you out just for a moment before he tosses you onto his bed and successfully turns the lock. Johnny and Kyle's shouting can be heard on the other side of the door, but Simon doesn't seem to give two fucks as he's approaching you. You're laid out on his bed, cheeks flustered when he towers over you, grasps your wrist, and raises them above your head.

And as his lips are hovering above yours the door is getting busted into as Simon is getting tackled to the floor as the Sergeants hold him down. Your eyes ream at the little giggly clusterfuck, and then in strolls Price who sits on the end of the bed and scoops you into his arms. You feel dizzy in his warmth as you snuggle against him and he kisses the top of your head.

You begin to realize something while you watch Simon turn into a cackling mess as he's being simultaneously tickled mercilessly by Johnny and Kyle. Price has a triumphant smile plastered on his face. It creeps up slowly on you, but he had succeeded in properly baiting all three men, so he could get his way with you.

His azure hues shift to you and he's kissing your cheek. It makes your heart flutter, but you're shaking your head at him when he's gazes down at you with that impish expression.

"Naughty little minx." You wave your finger at him with a bubbly smile. And he's hiding his face in the crook of your neck, tittering away because he knows he's been caught red-handed.

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callmegkiddo · 50 minutes

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Not a Woman - price x reader

summary: you get called to price’s office after a mission gone wrong in russia. after internalising your emotions for so long, you’re unable to hold back and finally reveal your deepest secret.

pairing: platonic!price x transmasc!reader

cw: mentions/hints towards sa, internalised transphobia (from reader), stereotyped sexism (cuz this is the military and the 141 boys would absolutely have some internalised misogyny ingrained in them)

word count: 3,079

A/N: there’s not really any fics out there targeted towards male readers, specifically trans men- and i wanted to write something (somewhat of a vent) about my own experience as a trans masc person.

this was originally posted on ao3, but i also wanted to post it here since i’ve gotten some good feedback and it boosted my confidence a bit :p

this is my first ever fic, so any feedback or tips would be super appreciated !!

After a particularly hard mission, you were called into Price’s office for a little chat.

The TaskForce's recent mission in Russia hadn't panned out as smoothly as he had hoped.

While the team's intel was thorough, word had gotten out that the 141 were planning to infiltrate a terrorist organisation from an unknown source. The plan had been disclosed before the group had even managed to reach their location.

It was complete and utter chaos. The entire team outnumbered with masses of last minute reinforcements.

The five of you barely made it out alive and Price now had the added stress of trying to locate the mole who had leaked highly confidential information from the TaskForce.

The following weeks succeeding the mission, your attitude had started to become short with some of your teammates and often ended in hostility.

The four men were starting to reach their limit, originally approaching you with care, however their patience soon ran thin. It was a draining mission for everyone after all.

Patience soon turned to agitation as each attempt to reach out to you was shut down. All that they had received in return were your harsh, snarky retorts and violent yells. Your behaviour was a stark contrast to the usually friendly and calm nature everyone at the base knew you for.

The taskforce Captain needed to check up on you - for the sake of his men, and for the sake of their own sanity.

Upon hearing the news that Price had called you to his office, you were immediately on high alert.

You weren't oblivious to your behaviour. Each attempt to open up to your comrades about any internal struggle that was so deeply buried was replaced with hurtful insults.

It hurt, but you knew they were hurting more.

You entered Price's office after knocking swiftly on his door with three simple knocks, his tired voice granting you permission to enter from inside.

Price had tried to approach the conversation professionally, tried to keep a level head, however when you snap at him in a sudden fit of anger - the calm, almost fatherly attitude is immediately gone.

“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me!” He growls, standing up from his desk. The palms of his hands pressed firmly in to the wooden table surface as he towered over you.

The anger in his eyes was palpable. Terrifying almost.

The hardened gaze you keep trained on Price falters slightly, a small flash of fear crossing your features before it's quickly buried away, trying to maintain a strong composure in the midst of your Captain's presence.

His expression doesn’t change, keeping his cold stare trained on you. A small part of him respects you for standing your ground but most of him is disappointed. Hurt.

“Do you have something you need to get off your chest, Sergeant? Something bothering you?” His voice is hard now as he glares down at you, his anger bubbling just below the surface as he watches you trying to maintain your facade.

Price is met with nothing but silence as he stares down at the soldier in front of him.

With your head held high and shoulders tightly squared - you simply glare back at him in defiance.

The office is eerily silent, the tense atmosphere could easily be cut with even the dullest of blades left discarded to be sharpened in the training room.

Time seems to still as the two soldiers stare each other down.

If it weren't for the emotional turmoil fogging your rationale you would be horrified by your lack of respect towards Price on any other day.

Despite your futile attempts to maintain your composure, hot, angry tears spring to your eyes, a heavy lump forming at the base of your throat.

It’s not long before they’re spilling over your cheeks. Fat, hot droplets dripping from your chin and leaving rain-like splatters on the tiled floor surrounding your feet.

Price’s expression immediately softens at the sight, the cold mask of his exterior cracking as the pain in his voice rises.

“Damnit…”

In one swift motion, the towering behemoth of a man is rounding his desk to stand in front of you, his concerned gaze never leaving your trembling form.

Despite the angry glare you shoot at him your tears never cease.

“What’s going on?” He asks sternly, his blue eyes filled with a flurry of numerous emotions. “What’s wrong?” He continues to press.

The cold front you try your best to maintain drops immediately, head hanging in defeat and burying deep in to the palms of your hands. You desperately try to wipe away the wetness on your cheeks, turning your body away in complete mortification.

One question was all it took. A simple inquiry on your wellbeing sent your defences crumbling to the ground.

Harrowing sobs and sloppy sniffles echo off the brick walls of the small, cluttered office. You whimper through your cries, teeth biting harshly in to your trembling lip in a desperate attempt to muffle any escaping sounds.

The display of vulnerability is humiliating.

“Hey… It’s okay.” He gently assures you, large palms rubbing against your shoulders in an attempt to calm you. He can sense your embarrassment and tries his best to put you at ease.

Any trace of his anger is immediately wiped from his demeanour, replaced with concern for the soldier stood before him.

“Just breathe for a moment”

He continues to stand beside you, his reassuring strokes along the tense muscles of your back slightly alleviating your distress.

“I want to know what I can do to help you.”

Price’s voice is gentle with a hint of unease.

“You can talk to me” he reminds earnestly. And what he says is true.

His priority as Captain has always been towards the wellbeing of his subordinates.

A deep sense of shame spreads through you at Price’s desperate attempts to try and break past the walls that had been so highly constructed around you.

You knew just how much your actions were hurting him.

You knew just how much your actions were hurting your comrades.

You knew just how much your actions were hurting yourself.

“I know!”

The sob that escapes is gut wrenching.

“I know I can talk to you- I know I should have, but I was scared- so embarrassed, so humiliated by what happened-" You're stumbling pathetically over your words as you try in desperate attempt to form the words that you want to say, but your mind is racing far too fast for you to keep up.

You sink to the floor on your hunches, your body curling in on itself- face still buried deeply in your hands.

"I'm so sorry!"

Price can't help but watch the scene unfold in bewilderment. In all the time you have worked together he had never seen such an intense display of emotions from you.

"I'm sorry I was so angry at everyone- so angry at you, my comrades, my family-" Each word is laced in despair at your confession.

It stabs deeply at Price when he realises just how much inner turmoil you have been struggling with.

The tall Captain crouches down on the ground beside you, lowering his level to meet your own.

A strong arm places itself around your small shoulders. It's clear with just how unsure his touch is that the situation is miles out of his comfort zone.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" He asks, his voice low. "I know you're embarrassed, but it's alright. Just take your time. Breathe."

He makes sure to assure you throughout your emotional distress, letting you curl up and continue to cry as you lean in to his words of support.

You slowly lower you shaking hands, peering up at Price who looks down at you with consideration.

Your eyes are red and puffy, cheeks flushed red and blotchy from your mourning.

"It was the mission in Russia" You begin to explain to Price, his gaze never leaving yours and his body turned to you in full attention.

Price's demeanour shifts as the memories of our recent mission flash through his mind. He was there leading charge and he recalls how brutal it was for all of his subordinates.

He nods his head in acknowledgement, listening thoughtfully to your words.

"Go on" He nods, urging you to continue.

You think back to the operation - recalling specifically the moment you had been separated from the group.

Price had chewed you out on the heli for going radio silent on the rest of the team while they furiously defended themselves against the never ending onslaught of enemies that never seemed to cease in their swarming.

No one knew what had happened when you were forced to go rogue, despite multiple attempts to draw the information out of you.

Eventually they had ruled it off, concluding that you were fine and simply agitated from stress - that it was what had resulted in so much tension between you and your comrades.

"I ran in to some trouble" you shakily exhale.

Price immediately recalls the incident, nodding again.

He is fully focused as he listens, silent as he prepares himself for what he's going to hear. Price can sense that this is a difficult topic based off your tone of voice alone.

An uneasy feeling settles in his stomach, realising that what you're going to say next is not going to be easy.

You didn't want him to know about the details of what went down and he gives you the space to open up on your own accord and choose for yourself what you're willing to reveal.

As quickly as your emotions had died down they start to build up again rapidly. The trembling in your body returning as you brace yourself for what you're finally about to reveal to your Captain.

"I tried to get away from them- I tried so hard" your voice quivers, barely above a whisper as your eyes clench shut. "There were so many of them, they wouldn't let go of me- they completely overpowered me."

He feels his heart drop.

Price's rhythmic strokes on your back freeze to a halt, the reality of your words sinking in.

He doesn't let you continue with the details. He doesn't want to force you in to that position of vulnerability.

The expression on his face immediately turns from sympathy to anger, his eyebrows curling down at the thought of what you had endured.

"I should have been able to fight back, or at least run away" You spit out angrily.

Your words snap Price back to reality, his train of thought abruptly coming to a halt at the realisation of your words.

"I'm a trained fucking soldier. It was pathetic" You sneer.

Your hard gaze is trained on the ground in front of you, tears still streaming down your face, leaving trails of silver streaks across your cheeks.

The expression on Price's face hardens as his large hand grips your shoulder tightly. He shakes his head sternly at you, speaking solemnly.

"You were attacked by a group of men. How the hell were you supposed to defend yourself while so heavily outnumbered?" He barks at you authoritatively.

Too many thoughts were swimming through Price's head for him to realise the harshness of his tone. He was horrified that this had happened under his command. Devastated that this had happened to one of his soldiers.

You lift your gaze to meet Price's once again.

"I've seen you do it. I've seen all of you do it" you hiss out in frustration.

So many times you've bared witness to your male comrades almost effortlessly fend themselves against multiple enemies with ease.

Deep down you knew it was a physical advantage. You were smaller, weaker in comparison to the rest of your team.

It made you feel repulsive.

"I'm a man," Price reminds you harshly, making you flinch. He doesn’t realise the impact of those three, simple words.

The anger in him is clear, but not towards you. He is furious that this had happened to you, and even more so that you were blaming yourself for something purely out of your control.

"Even the strongest of men would have struggled in your situation."

Your body is tense, jaw locking in anger as you coldly stare at Price's chest to avoid his gaze.

"I hate being a woman" you mutter. "I hate it. I wish I was stronger, that I was taller. I wish I could walk down the goddamn street by myself without being absolutely terrified of the men around me- I wish I was a fucking man!"

Your voice is desperate, growing louder as you gasp out each word of remorse for your gender.

His grip on your shoulder loosens, retreating back to his side as he takes in the desperation of your voice. He can see the struggle that lies behind your usually confident mask you wear so proudly every day.

It breaks his heart to see how much this affects you.

Price doesn't say anything, only listens as you release your frustrations without judgement. He doesn't want to interrupt you with words of comfort just yet. He can tell that this has been deeply concealed for far too long. His focus is completely on what you have to say, however harsh it may be.

"I never should have been born in this god forsaken body- I never should have been born a woman!" your hands tug at your hair furiously. "I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!"

Finally, after listening to your frantic outburst, Price steps in with a gentle voice. A combination of pity and sadness.

He hates seeing how much this attack has affected you, and is feeling a deep shame at his inability to protect you in your moment of need.

"Shh... you don't mean that" he coos softly, voice cracking slightly as he tries to control his own emotions.

"But I do!" You glare at the Captain that kneels before you. "Ever since I was a kid- I've despised myself for being a woman- for being born in this body" you fiercely seethe. "Why couldn't I have just been born a fucking man?" You slam your fist down in anger.

"No matter what I do. I can't love myself when I'm like this- when I'm a woman!" The word 'woman' spits venomously from your tongue, as if the very word itself felt like poison upon your lips.

Price feels a sting in his heart as your words hit him with such harshness and rage.

He had never imagined being so desperate for something, anything that would strip your confidence so brutally from your own body, that you'd learn to hate yourself so much that you wished you were something else. Price comes to the realisation that this stems much further than your assault.

He looks at the broken soldier in front of him. A soldier so ashamed and severred by a cruel hand that they were forced to live with.

A heavy silence hangs between them, all the while Price's eyes move analytically over your form.

"It's just something that I have to live with - something that I have to come to terms with."

You're nothing but defeated.

"I'll always be a woman, no matter what." you whisper dejectedly, staring blankly at the floor.

His eyes are locked on you and the pain across your face. He's torn between trying to ease your struggle, but not wanting to say anything until you are finished pouring out the pent up anger and hatred that you so desperately needed to.

When the room is silent, Price speaks up again, the words leaving his mouth almost instinctively.

"What if you didn't have to come to terms with being a woman?" Price inquires softly. "What if you accepted the fact that you're...." Price trails off, letting you take the initiative to finish his sentence. He doesn't want to step out of line with something so personal.

"That Im trans.." You quietly finish

He nods his head solemnly, taking a deep breath with you at the revelation.

The room is engulfed in silence once again. The admission alone is something you had buried away so deeply, something you never thought would ever leave the confines of your thoughts. Something that would never reach listening ears. It's almost surreal as you process your confession.

"You know that's not something you have to hide from us, right?" Price asks gently, shifting on his knees so that he was fully seated on the floor with you.

"Gaz, Ghost, Soap... We'll accept you for who you are and whatever you want to be. You don't need to live a lie" Price is tender with his approach.

He watches as you anxiously chew your lip, pulling your knees to your chest tightly.

Your eyes dart around the room, a small feeling of dread slowly creeping up your spine.

"I'll be the laughing stock of the base" you chuckle bitterly, though Price can tell that his suggestion to embrace your true self hasn't been fully shut down.

Like a terrified child, you curl in on yourself further, pressing in to a small, defensive ball.

"Do you really think we would let anyone treat you like that? If they so much as look at you funny, they will personally have to answer to me."

You smile gently at Price, feeling a sudden surge of affection for the man's protectiveness.

Price's shoulders relax slightly at the sight of your smile.

The two of you were a sight to behold, huddled on the floor of his office. It's almost comedic.

Feeling the stiffness in his body, Price slowly rises to his feet, a hand extended towards you to lift you off the floor with him.

You accept gratefully, standing shakily as your body groans in relief.

"Come on soldier," Price calls out to you, heading towards the door to his office.

"We have some arrangements to be made" He smiles at you warmly.

Your stomach flutters at your Captain's immediate acceptance. Just like that, no further discussion was needed

In this moment- you know that this is your chosen family.

This is the home that you deserve, and you were not going to let yourself feel like a stranger in it any longer.

You bite down your smile, nodding at Price as you follow after him and out of his office.

#GAH #NEEDED THIS SO MUCH #although I never hated myself as a child for being a women I gradually grew to hate myself as I became a teenager for BEING A WOMAN #so yes I need this #thank you

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callmegkiddo · 1 hour

Text

oh no i'm having more soft Ghoap thoughts

okokko this is more of a little ficlet thing but it makes my lil heart happy so enjoy <3

also y'all i do not be editing these. at all. I just be throwin shit down on paper and making my brain produce dopamine.

if you all have any requests though pls feel free to drop into my ask box <3 I will gladly write whatever. I'm sure i'll come up with rules eventually, but rn I'm pretty open-minded and can't think of much I would refuse <3

You're waltzing around your apartment, half asleep but with a tired smile on your face. Johnny comes back today, after all, and of course that means Simon will be coming too! You've been dating Johnny exclusively for a few months now. Sure, sometimes Simon will hold your hand, or pull you in for a hug. And sure, sometimes Simon sits with you in the early mornings on the balcony while you drink a warm drink, and he smokes a cigarette- looking at you with rapt attention and soft eyes, hanging onto every word you say. Okay, and maybe he calls you 'love' and 'darling' but he's British, so it's probably normal. But it's entirely platonic- you're at least 78% sure, and plus only Johnny had asked you out- so you have to stay loyal to him even if you do feel something for the bigger brute.

But! You need to get your ass into gear and make your boys- boy something to eat- knowing damn well they- he will be hungry when they- ah fuck it. You're going to cook them a good ass meal to enjoy- knowing they will enjoy it after a month of MRE's and shitty mess hall food (Johnny's words). So you do. You work away in the kitchen- though the clock reads barely past 2AM, knowing they should arrive around 3AM at this point. You've timed it perfectly, so by the time you set everything out on the kitchen island, still steaming and hot, you hear the familiar playful rapt at your door.

ba ba baba ba

With a grin you glance over the selection of food first- mashed potatoes, green beans, fried pork chops, and freshly made black tea- you make your way over to the door and open it with a grin. "'m glad you're back!" You bout out happily, sending both men a bright grin despite your slightly tired eyes along with theirs. "Missed ye, bonnie," Johnny is quick to just waltz right on in, arms wrapping around you and lifting you up slightly with one hand, his other hand occupied carrying his duffel bag.

A snort of amusement leaves your lips as you hug him back, pressing a kiss to his lips before batting at him to put you down- though he doesn't hesitate once he notices the smell in the house. "Oooh, what's this, bonnie?" Johnny hums out, dropping his bag somewhere in the living room as he makes his way to the kitchen.

A soft laugh leaves your lips at his reaction, but you don't bother to answer him as you turn your attention to Simon, whose closing the door behind him. He's wearing his usual little black medical mask- the one he wears in place of the balaclava when he's off duty.

So imagine your utter shock and dumb fuck surprise when he pulls the thing down, steps forward, places a gentle hand on your cheek and kisses you. "Missed ya, too, love," Simon quips easily, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before simply dropping his bag and just walking right into the kitchen.

Sir, I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?! It's a thought, no words leave your lips as your cheeks heat up.

Oh no, you just cheated on your boyfriend- in the same house with him- with his best friend.

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU DO NOW?!

Apparently, nothing but walk into the kitchen with your boys, watching as the two of them are already seated with stacked plates in front of them. You blink blankly at the scene.

You hesitate before taking a seat, sitting across from Johnny and resting your hands on the table, looking between the two of them as they converse casually.

"Take such good care o' us, bonnie, dunnae ken what I did to deserve ya," Johnny quips, looking at you with bright blue eyes and a genuinely content smile on his face between shoveling bites of food.

"Stopped bein' a bloody prick fer more than two seconds," Simon says, voice low and monotone yet somehow tinged with amusement.

You blink again. Huh "You kissed me?" You say it as a statement, but it comes out as a question as you look at Simon, ignoring their banter even though it makes you want to snort in amusement. You're too dumbfounded and bewildered right now to handle this situation. "Uh huh." Simon responds, flatly, like it's the most obvious thing in the world as he takes a bite of mashed potatoes. Johnny looks between the two of you, a slow smirk pulling at his lips, "LT, you sly dog," Johnny murmurs with clear amusement, elbowing the bigger man in the side playfully. You sputter for a moment, looking back over at Johnny, "A-and you're just- okay with that?!" You ask in utter confusion, bewildered but not exactly disappointed at the scene.

So you didn't cheat on your boyfriend with his best friend? Johnny looks at you and this time he blinks in confusion before turning his head and grabbing Simon's jaw, pulling him close and planting a kiss on Simon's lips, causing Simon to grunt in annoyance- only because he was still eating.

Johnny turns back to you with a shrug, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Even?" You stare at the scene with heated cheeks before throwing your hands up in defeat, "...Even." You relent with a huff. ....can't cheat on your boyfriend with your other boyfriend who is also your boyfriends boyfriend you suppose.

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callmegkiddo · 1 hour

Text

All of these hit hard

BUT GOD DAMNIT GAZ HITS THE HARDEST

WHY

THE FALSE ILLUSION

THE FALSE HOPE

THE ILLUSION SHATTERING

My brain simply will not leave the Angst alone after writing this piece, so here’s a little part…well not quite part 2–consider it more of a part 1.5, if you will. How the rest of the 141 reacts when they believe 141!reader is KIA…

Read part 1 here

Special thanks to @sim0nril3y who lets me spam angst in her DMs lol. You keep me going

Price

You were a part of his task force. He was your captain. He’s feeling so much guilt and pain. Should he have approved this mission?? Should they have sought more intel?? Should he have gone with?? Was there any way he could have seen this coming?? The questions haunt him every night.

But he doesn’t get the luxury of giving in to his grief. He has Simon to worry about now, too. There is nothing Price can do for you anymore. But he can do something for Simon.

Price knew he had no choice but to send Simon on leave. He just knew that Simon was not in the right state of mind anymore.

Price was the first of the group to notice how you had started to slowly bring Ghost back to life, back to Simon. And now he has to watch as Simon falls apart right before his eyes.

Price goes to Simon’s house to check on him periodically. Simon never opens the door. But still Price shows up. Sits on the porch for hours. Waiting for Ghost to let him in. Eventually, he heads back to his car and drives home. But he’ll be back in a week or so.

Johnny

Johnny is left standing alone in his grief on an empty tarmac as the realization sinks in: he didn’t just lose you. He lost Simon, too.

Two graves. One detonation.

The grief feels like it might just swallow him whole. He heads out on leave as soon as he gets clearance, booking a flight back home. Surrounded by his loving family, the warmth and love showered down on him attempt to close the gaping wound in his chest. But it’s little more than putting a bandaid over a bullet wound. His mum frets over the haunted look in his eyes, those moments when he goes still, goes quiet—so unlike her Johnny.

Kyle

Kyle is sitting in the your favorite pub just off base on a Friday night where you do religiously met up to destress from the week. Two pints sit on the bar in front of him because, for just a moment, he lived in a world where you were running late as usual so he might as well go ahead and order two pints of your favorite beer while he waits. It’s not until the bartender sets both glasses down that he realizes with a start that you won’t be joining him. Not this time. Not ever again. He’d never get to hear you laugh again or hear you bitch about the new recruits and swearing that the standards must be getting lower and lower every year.

He downs both drinks as fast as he can and gets the hell out of there.

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callmegkiddo · 1 hour

Text

HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME

If they gave us our own character to call our own in the games (like how Bell was in COD BO CW) then this is how it would've ended up-

Three's a Crowd - ghost x reader

summary: you’re the latest addition to the 141. price and gaz have each other, ghost and soap vice versa. you start to realise that you’ll never be able to gain the attention of your comrades - let alone your lieutenant - the way you so desperately crave.

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

cw: angst, typical cod violence, character death, mw3 spoilers

word count: 2,318

A/N: feeling angsty so have this :D (FURTHER PROOFREADING IS NEEDED !!! but im eepy and impatient its 2am)

also i genuinely can't live without music, so i always end up adding a song that kinda reminds me of my fic. its not something that needs to be listened to - simply any song i find that kinda suits the vibe of the story and also just sharing some good music for others to enjoy !! idk, just something i enjoy doing (im rambling)

Being the latest addition to the TaskForce 141's ensemble had its downfalls.

While you were immensely grateful for the opportunity to have been recruited by John Price himself, there was still the lingering discomfort of trying to fit in with a new group.

It was childish really. Such a minuscule concern whilst in the midst of fighting a war.

It had been several months since you were enlisted, yet your relationship amongst the four members seemed to lag in comparison to the camaraderie they each shared between one another. Years of companionship amidst the terrors of combat had strengthened the bindings of their connections, forcing them to rely on one another when faced with life and death. It was something that you had yet to experience with them.

You know that these things take time - especially given that fact that it was so common to lose comrades in this field of work. Everyone was terrified of getting attached.

Over the coming days, the five of you had been preparing for an upcoming mission. It was crucial that everything panned out perfectly. Price wasn't leaving any room for fault, not when the safety of thousands were at stake. thousands of civilian lives. Men, women and children.

While Price and Gaz - with the assistance of Farah - had set out to Urzikstan to lead an infiltration on a Konni base they believed Makarov was operating at, you were assigned to Verdansk with Soap and Ghost.

The task; stop Konni from destroying the Gora dam.

The three of you were currently grouped at the meeting point, scoping the area before setting off to defuse the bombs scattered across the site. With the little numbers you had, you were going to have to rely on stealth. You hated stealth.

Stealth required trust. Trust in your comrades to complete their designated tasks without fault, trust in your comrades to stay alert.

You had none.

You were determined to change that succeeding this mission.

"Be advised, Konni personnel are grouping near multiple locations below you." Laswell's voice snaps you from your thoughts, her voice ringing through the comms.

Ghost and Soap look up at where you were perched. You were their sniper for this mission. They were relying on you to keep them covered and you were not going to let them down.

You raise your hand in the air, giving them a thumbs up to alert you were ready and in position. The two men send a curt nod in return before setting off to track down and defuse the explosives.

With Laswell over-watching the operation, and you giving the duo support from a higher vantage point, the low numbers were of little concern. The four of you knew that you would be able to carry out the mission smoothly. Besides,

Failure wasn't an option.

You watch as Ghost silently takes out several guards, advancing his way through the facility as he tries to locate the bombs.

"Bagged 'em" Laswell confirms another kill for Ghost.

“Two guards, on your three by the barrels” you alert Ghost, watching as he stealthily approaches the guards. “I’m lined up, I can get them in one”.

They’re on the ground before Ghost can even blink.

You grin as you peer through the scope of your sniper. This was going to be cake.

“Good to see you in one piece, Johnny” Ghost huffs, splayed on the floor of the heli alongside you and Soap.

“Haven’t felt better, LT.”

It was a scramble trying to meet with Nikolai and board the aircraft, lifting off amidst the enemy's gunfire. You ensured there were no men left standing by the time you all were long out of sight.

Price would be pleased.

“Yeah, I’m okay too. Thanks for asking” you huff out in annoyance, watching as Ghost lends Soap a hand, lifting him to his feet with a small grunt.

You get up by yourself, a simple side glance sent your way from Ghost before both the men turn to Nikolai. At least Soap had the decency to return a relieved smile.

“Mission accomplished, Bravo. You three took down an army and saved lives tonight” Laswell congratulates through the comms, her usual monotonous voice doing little to praise the successful operation that the three of you had completed. “Makarov will not take this well.”

“He’s a big boy,” you respond with an amused grin. “He can handle it.”

“Don’t underestimate the rage of the Russian’s” Nikolai chuckles back in response, looking back at you momentarily to ensure all three of you weren’t seriously injured.

“Speakin’ from experience, Nikolai?” You smirk back, walking over towards the front of the heli where both Ghost and Soap stand, your sniper left discarded on the metal floor of the military carrier.

“Firsthand” Nikolai simply snorts back.

The rest of the ride back is silent, Ghost and Soap sat beside each other, a singular empty seat distancing their proximity. You? You sit across from them, alone on the empty bench.

You don’t mean to let your guard down. You were simply exhausted and finally allowing yourself to stare aimlessly into space as the adrenaline in your system slowly drained from your veins.

“Don’t.”

The harsh voice has you crashing back to reality, eyes focusing in place to meet dark hazel ones, narrowed and directed at you. You hadn’t realised you were staring at Ghost while you silently decompressed. It was a rude startle from your meaningless thoughts.

“Sorry, I zoned out. My eyes were just comfortable” you respond awkwardly, adjusting your seating position and clearing your throat. “Didn’t realise I was staring”

Ghost simply glares back at you, his usual cold and emotionless stare making your hands clammy and stomach flutter. You quickly avert your gaze, turning your head away to stare at the metal tread plate flooring, instead focusing on the loud hum of the aircraft you were all seated in.

It suddenly grew too hot, too cramped in the helicopter. It was claustrophobic - suffocating almost.

You’re the first to scramble off the heli, exhaling in relief when you’re no longer boxed into the hunk of metal you had just spent the last hour travelling in. With your sniper draped loosely over your shoulder, you make your way inside the small safe house nestled on the outskirts of Verdansk. You don’t bother to wait for Soap and Ghost.

It’s late at night. Your body is near spent. Your only goal in mind was getting the heavy military gear off your body to finally allow yourself the comfort you crave.

It’s a small shack, only the bare minimum provided. An old, tattered couch and rickety square dining table with four chairs on each side, each varying in design and wood finishes. They evidently didn’t come as a set. There is a small room off to the side, various camping cots packed and stacked against the furthest wall, at our disposal for when we choose to retire for the night.

Ghost, Soap and Nikolai soon enter after you, Nikolai retreating into the small room to set up the cots and get some much needed rest.

You keep to yourself while Soap settles on the small couch, Ghost taking a seat at the dining table to clean and check over his equipment.

You hastily peel the stiff fabric from your body, vest and outerwear folded on the floor in the corner of the living room, your sniper. Resting atop of them. Your aching body can finally breathe now that the extra layers were finally discarded

“Ye did good today” Soap finally speaks up after a beat of tense silence. You turn to him in slight surprise, not expecting him to initiate any sort of conversation with you. “We’d have been fucked without ye” he continues, Scottish accent thick as ever.

You can’t help the small smile that creeps on to your face.

“You guys did the dirty work. I simply scoped the area from above” you assure modestly, not wanting to come across arrogant.

“Aye. Saved our asses several times. We owe you.”

Ghost simply scoffs quietly, standing to move outside where there would be less chatter. He was tired and didn’t want to indulge.

Your smile is wiped from your lips, replaced by a slight frown at Ghost’s exit. It doesn’t go unnoticed by the Scot.

“He’s a crabbit old man. Pay him no mind” Soap assures you, voice low and seemingly unaffected by the Lieutenant’s departure. “The lad’s not one for meaningless blether.”

You nod, evidently disappointed

Soap observes you silently, taking in your defeated expression, a low hum of acknowledgment absentmindedly leaving his tight lips.

"Ye like the Lieutenant" he voices aloud. There was no room for argument in his statement.

Your head darts to Soap in stunned horror, mouth parted in shock. You're unable to respond, Soap speaking up before you're able to form your words.

"Keen een."

You immediately shut your mouth. There was no point in arguing. He knew.

Soap chuckles, a bitter and amused sound that leaves you feeling uneasy.

"Foolhardy choice"

You watch as Soap leaves to the makeshift bedroom, closing the door behind him and leaving you alone with your thoughts and anxieties. You don't get much sleep that night.

Returning to the 141 base was a relief in itself.

Touching down on British soil allowed you to finally relax. You were finally familiar with your surroundings once again.

You sigh happily upon entering your private quarters, throwing your bag carelessly to the ground. A shower was in order. You waste no time in stripping down bare to prepare yourself for the best shower of your life.

When you emerge from the shower, hair still damp and leaving small patches of dampness along the fabric of your fresh shirt you immediately make your way to the rec room. Some caffeine was in order if you were going to set your sleep schedule back to its usual.

You inhale sharply when you see Ghost sat alone, immediately on edge.

He turns his attention to you momentarily before wordlessly resuming back to the reports in his hands.

Message received.

You quietly walk over to the coffee machine, pulling out a mug as you put the kettle on.

You keep your eyes trained on anything but Ghost, not wanting to anger him again. You can't help but lose yourself in your thoughts once again as you wait for the water to finish boiling.

It wasn't anything more than a physical attraction that you had towards the aloof man. You didn't know the slightest thing about him. You did know however, that he was loyal. Just from your observations alone - it was obvious just how passionate he was about the 141. He would lay his life down without a second thought to ensure a mission was successful, to ensure his teammates were safe.

All of his teammates, save for you.

He was a machine during training, a monster on the field. Rippling muscle and deadly speed, accuracy that rivals even Captain Price himself.

So many times you've caught yourself staring, admiring from the peripherals of your vision with your lip caught between your teeth. You felt like a lovesick teen in high school. It was absolutely infuriating.

"It won't make itself"

You jolt in alarm, head whipping towards the voice. Ghost simply stares at you, eyebrow raised. His skull mask was replaced by his usual black balaclava he wore around base, the prominent shape of his brow bones underneath the knit fabric the only giveaway of his expression. His thick thighs are spread lazily in front of him, large feet planted on the floor as he leans back against the dark leather couch, papers still in hand.

You quickly tear your eyes away from him once again.

"I know." You internally grimace at your response. Stupid. So stupid.

Ghost chuckles, still eyeing you as you stare dumbly down at the now finished boiling kettle and empty mug.

"You're an open book" he speaks up, shaking his head slightly in disapproval, lowering his eyes back down to his reports. "You need to keep your head in the game, sergeant. This is a war, not a dating reality."

You glimpse over at him from the corner of your eye, fighting down the heat that tries to spread across your face.

"I'm well aware of that" you respond sternly, hastily making your coffee.

Fucking. Soap.

"Start acting like it, soldier"

You swiftly leave, coffee rushed and head lowered in shame. You didn't bother drinking the sloppy coffee, instead tipping it down the bathroom sink and watching as it swirls down the drain.

Makarov was defeated - the 141 finally accomplishing what they had chased like hell hounds for months - finally at its end.

Ghost stares down at your lifeless eyes.

What should have been Soap’s life was instead replaced with your own.

It was a selfless act of bravery.

No one was fast enough to respond. One minute you were here, yelling out to Soap in alarm, the next you were motionless. An instant death after Makarov lodged his final bullet in your skull.

Ghost knows that he should feel something - anything for the life lost. His teammate stolen from life too soon, but he can't find it in himself to care.

Price places a large hand on Ghost's shoulder, pulling him away from the scene.

The Taskforce retreats. They would send reinforcements to retrieve your body, to be able to send something back to your loved ones waiting anxiously on your return.

It was a shame really. The potential you had was evident, destined to continue fighting for your country alongside Ghost, Price and Gaz.

Ghost turns on his heel, following after his comrades and boarding the heli, your empty seat bringing a deep sense of impending doom, the reality finally setting in for the four men.

Ghost scoffs, shaking his head.

Three was always a crowd

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