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bambimeadows · 1 year

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MW men leaving you to go away on a mission

A/n: my first time writing for modern warfare in general, I hope you like it 😔 Nervous

Consists of Gaz, Graves, Price, soap, ghost, alejandro and Rudy

Mostly pure fluff, but angst for Ghost and Graves, because in my mind they’d be problematic boyfriends/husbands

Warning: swearing, suggestive themes but no explicit smut, gender neutral reader (if there are errors that indicate other wise I apologise but I tried my best to make reader as ambiguous as possible) I haven’t proof read as best I could, if I fixate on making it perfect I will never post the silly little thing.

Requests are welcome 🍷 I’m open to writing pretty much anything (within reason👻)

🇬🇧 Kyle “Gaz” Garrick 🇬🇧 (my favourite)

It’s 4am, but Kyle is already freshly showered and suited up to go on his next mission.

This is an all too familiar Deja vu moment for you, the sliver of light coming from the bathroom into your bedroom, the pungent citrusy aroma of his shower gel and aftershave. You pretend to be asleep, all the while your heart sinks further and further down your chest until it’s feels like it lies in the pit of your stomach.

You like to watch him discretely, peeking out from behind the duvet to observe him as he bustles around quickly, he’s expertly quiet, almost elegant in his movements, tucking things into his bag while he sips his coffee. You adored the way he looked when he thought no one was watching, when he was safe, a peaceful, docile look on his beautiful face, the expressions he pulled as he processed his thoughts with himself.

He hums a tune very quietly, something vapid and silly from the radio. He bends down to scratch behind the ears of your cat who had come to brush round his legs. “Look after them for me, mate.”

How you love the bones of him

You’ve always ask him to wake you up so you can see him off before he leaves, he never does. Somehow he can be up at a specific time without an alarm, you’re not quite sure how he does, and the success rate is too high for it to be a fluke. His logic for not waking you up is that it doesn’t matter either way, you’re better off with your rest and he’ll be back in no time, no tearful goodbyes we’re needed. Of course, the night before he leaves, the feeling in your gut and the rampant racing of your thoughts wouldn’t allow you the privilege of sleeping in anyway.

You keep your eyes shut lightly, steady and slow your breathing to mimic sleep.

As you keep your eyes closed you feel his presence near you, hear the rustle of his clothes and gear as he bends down and rubs his thumb across your cheek in impossibly feathery motions. You can picture his expression like it always is in these moments, his chocolatey eyes turning soft and hazy, his mouth resting in a tiny little pout of endearment, like his heart had just melted to goo his chest.

“You still asleep babe?” He mutters.

He waits for a few counts, and then once satisfied you’re still allegedly in your slumber he places a kiss to your forehead. “Back soon, promise. I love you,” comes the impossibly gentle whisper. He strokes your face a few more times, both hands brushing over your cheeks and forehead. It becomes hard to keep up the facade but you hold steady until he walks away.

It makes you crumble, the notion that he thought you were asleep yet still performed such a gesture, he wasn’t trying to comfort you, he was just trying to enjoy you for himself before he left.

It’s as your hear him open the front door that you call to him, as best you can, that you love him too.

He appears back in the doorway of your bedroom in an instant, with a ghost of an earnest grin gracing his face. You hold each others gaze for a moment before he’s making his way back over to you, grabbing your face and kissing you on the lips, he envelopes you in his arms in a firm, lingering embrace.

“Do you really have to go?” You mumble sleepily into his shoulder.

He hummed something incoherent, rubbing his hands up your sleeping shirt, to feel the skin of your back.

“Can’t you call in sick?”

He chuckles, its always such a sweet, rich sound, it’s the vocal equivalent to honey and cinnamon, it makes you hold him tighter. “I don’t think it works like that, babe.”

“What if you had like… a broken leg?”

“That’s a good point actually,” he says, releasing you and standing up again, feigning sincerity in pondering the idea. “Okay. Come on, come push me down the stairs.”

You giggle at him, spurned on by his playful grin. “Then you’d just be laid in hospital for weeks.”

“Yeah,” he leaned down to kiss you again briefly. “But we’d be together wouldn’t we?”

You nod, and before you know it, you feel a tear start to trickle down your face. Before you can wipe it away his hand is on your face, and he’s still smiling, just more fervently, he pours all his heart into his special, profound and reassuring little smiles, just for you.

“It’s okay, I promise it is. It will fly by. I won’t be gone too long this time. And it’s not too dangerous either.”

You nod, you share another kiss with him and he presses his forehead to yours for a moment, shutting his eyes before sighing and leaving you with a few /I love you/s

Just as you prepare to be alone, he appears again, the bright grin back on his face, pointing a finger at you. “And don’t watch the new season of Bridgeton while I’m gone, okay? Strictly off limits. I mean it. If I have to wait, so do you. We’re gonna watch it together.”

You throw your head back and laugh at him, pure joy from your stomach, and you shake your head quickly.

“I’m gonna watch it right now.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, you wouldn’t do that to me. I’ll just delete the account, no problem.”

He makes his way back down the hall.

“Show a bit of solidarity, yeah?” He calls as he’s making his way down the stairs. “Love you babe!”

And then he’s gone, and although you do shed a few tears, you can’t help but smile as you do.

🇺🇸 Phillip Graves 🇺🇸

You find that on the mornings Graves is due away on a mission, he can be almost cold - and he is not a cold partner or even person in general most of the time. You personally couldn’t discern why he became brusque and distant, keeping you at arms length, but you knew he was a busy man, too much on his mind perhaps.

You tried your best to be accommodating to him, staying out of his way, putting on a brave face, acting as if he was just popping to the office for a few hours, even making him a plate of his standard bacon and eggs, with his creamy sugary coffee.

“‘Preciate it,” he sighed, he placed a piece of bacon in his mouth as he flipped through some paperwork. “Shouldn’t be gone too long this time, alright?”

You didn’t answer, just continue scrubbing the pan of it’s grease.

“You hear me, darlin’?”

“I hear you,” you respond, turning around and you can feel your face is like stone, you’re still scrubbing. “Happy to hear it.”

He picks up his coffee mug and takes a sip, his eyes landing on you as you’re drying off a spatula. “Don’t look like that. Wipe that pout off your face.”

You clang the cooking utensil back where it belongs. “…Whatever Phill, I’m going back to bed.”

He gave you his signature /look/, it was something only akin to how a father gave a warning signal to his child, pointed, widened eyes, a terse little mouth. “That’s how you’re gonna see me off? What if I don’t come back?”

You feel your face crumple and swallow the harsh, stinging lump in your throat. “You always come back. You tell me you’re not in any real danger.”

“Right,” he retorts and clanks his mug down firmly. “I’ll hurry up and go then. Seems as if you’re looking forward to it.”

You watch him, cross-armed, as he begins to pick up his bags, “See you soon,” he calls over his shoulder and then the door slams shut.

You curse under your breath as you cross the living room to open the front door and walk out onto your driveway, arms still crossed to keep your robe wrapped around your body, the morning chill rippling the fabric against your skin.

He sees you and squints his eyes in puzzlement, but you merely open the passenger door and slip in the car next to him.

“Y/n,” he starts, raising an eyebrow, but you’re already lurched over with your arms draped around his neck, your face finding the toasty, musk scented crook of his neck. It only takes him a few moments to return the gesture and then some, scooping you across into his lap.

“Aw, come on baby, please don’t get like this on me,” he mumbles, a tinge of anguish to his tone as he rubs your back. “It’s like you said, I always come back.”

You pull away, climbing back in the passenger seat. “Everytime you have to leave, you act like you don’t even like me.”

He scoffed and shook his head quickly, turning away from you. “Come on, y/n, what are we? Teenagers? I’m just busy getting ready.”

You continue to glare holes into the side of his skull before he sighs, visibly deflating, his shoulder sinking down further, his back finally coming loose. “Alright, alright. Truth is…”

You wait patiently for him to wrap his tongue around whatever it is he needs to say, eventually he turns to you, placing a hand on your thigh. “… I just feel guilty leaving you. And getting all sentimental with ya in these times, well it just makes me feel worse. So I try my best not to. Selfish I know.”

He levels you with a pained look, eyebrows furrowed. “Sorry darlin.”

“Why do you feel guilty?”

“You being alone so much, having to wait around for me. Maybe if you had a man with a normal job-“

“I don’t want to hear any of that,” you cut in. “I choose you. And I know being with you comes with sacrifice, but I accept it all. You’re worth it.”

He lets out a joyless breathy chuckle, turning his gaze to his lap. “Am I though? Are you sure?”

You nod enthusiastically. “You’re the most amazing and beautiful man I’ve ever met, and will ever meet.”

“And I feel the same about you, but you give me the world,” he tells you. “And I… don’t do the same for you.”

“You do everything for me. Literally everything. Give me so much.”

He places his hands on the steering, as if he’s bracing himself.

“But I have to leave you all the time. And I don’t know, to me that makes everything I do for you seem like… nothing. I know you get lonely. Sometimes I worry that you’ll…”

He swallows and shakes his head to himself, “…never mind.”

You take a moment to process the revelation, your cheeks burn at the notion he could suspect you of cheating, but what was more striking was that everything you hadn’t been previously sure of made sense right then and there, like puzzle piece clicking into place to complete the whole grand picture. “You’re talking bullshit. But I wish you had told me how you felt sooner. And I would never, for the record, and never have.“

He took your hand in his, staring into your eyes with almost a desperation, it was spell-bounding to see him fold for you, to see his sapphire blue puppy eyes grow round, sad, misty, longing. “I’m a good boyfriend to you the rest of the time though, right?”

He’s genuinely asking, his breath is almost hitched in his throat. In this moment you see it, and you can’t see how you didn’t see it before, the apprehension, the nerves, the uncertainty. It made you want to take him by the hand, lead him back inside and get him back into bed where you could hold each other and you could whisper praise and words of adoration into his ear. You had a suspicion he was still only being partially transparent.

You didn’t want to believe he was scared, if he was scared, it made way for so much indecision and suspense.

You knew you’d have to start thinking of him as a mere mortal, and not the pristine, perfect machine he tried to portray himself as, it had been very indulgent and almost lazy, complacent even, to adopt that view of him, even if he had pushed it onto you. “You’re good to me all of the time,” you conclude.

You give him a final kiss, lay a hand on his arm before you leave the car.

“I’ll see you soon baby,” he murmurs.

You nod quickly, but as you turn your back you’re choking back your tears.

💀Simon “Ghost” Riley 💀 (oh my god his is so long)

“You awake love?” A huge hand shakes your shoulder firmly.

You mumble something incoherent and emit a small groan, rolling over to your side to see your boyfriend sat on the edge of the bed, his vast figure illuminated by the amber hue of the lamplight.

With that damned mask on no less. With the damned mask on…

“I am now, what’s up?”

He’s bent down to lace up his boots. “Gotta go. Gonna be away for a while.”

“Go where?”

“You know I can’t say.”

You sat up now, too quickly and it made your head swim. You feel the tinge of outrage on your skin, you tried to swallow the gravel in your throat, willing your face to stop heating up by the second. “Ooo,” you bite sarcastically, and sizzling acidic venom is dripping from your tongue, because he’s done it again. “You definitely told me you were going away, didn’t you? Thanks for letting me know in advance.”

“Sorry, it’s a last minute thing.”

“Bollocks is it,” you grumble.

He rises back up and twists his torso to look at you, raising a hand to place on your arm but you shrug it off aggressively.

The skull gazes at you for a moment, his hand recoiling back to his side. “Knew I should have left you asleep,” he concluded. “Knew you were gonna be a dickhead about it. This is why I don’t tell you fuck all.”

You struggle not to see red, you feel the special sort of anger only he can inspire start to creep and curl up your veins, as if you were frosting over. The fury for him was like a chained up beast, becoming more difficult to keep subdued the more he pushed, the more he tested you to see how much you’d let him get away with.

“That’s what you did last time,” you say, levelling him with a hard glare of ice and stone. “And it messed me up.”

You see his shoulders move up and down in what you assume was a tiny scoff. “Don’t say that. You’re exaggerating.”

“Don’t tell me how I felt, or how I feel,” you voice is sharp with defiance, but it seems to bounce off of him, it goes right over his head.

His phone, the burner phone, buzzed. He glanced at it and it was some sort indication to move. He stood up, his gigantic form looming over the bed, over you.

It would be a terrifying sight if you didn’t know what existed beneath that gear, behind that haunting mask.

Just yesterday the two of you had had the best day in a long time. You walked your dog through the woodlands for hours, you watched movies all afternoon and then in the evening he took you to your favourite restaurant, something you knew he despised. He hated public settings, it was as if they made him itch. Walking through the local shopping centre was difficult enough with him, his bad moods never failed to rub off on you and you would both come home mentally and emotionally depleted.

He much preferred dinner at home, he liked to cook, he liked to cook with you, shoulder to shoulder, the radio on or the tv humming away in the background, or he liked to order a Chinese and have you in his lap afterwards as you zoned out in front of the tv or watched him play a video game. It didn’t matter really, he always preferred the two of you alone, but he had pushed the boat out for you yesterday. He had been so unbelievably sweet.In fact he had been profoundly sweet all week…

You feel your emotional chest wound deepen gradually at the realisation. No, he had known, for weeks at best, a couple months at worst. You weren’t stupid. Perhaps he’d be better off with someone stupid, with zero perception, metaphorically blind. You could have been, and you were at first with him. The beautiful warmth that shone through the cracks of the glacial man, just for you, almost euphoric, almost drug like, stifling your senses, your common sense.

To have him soften for you, the way he took care of you, subtly adored you, guided you, soothed you, protected you, saved you from even the most minor discomfort.

You always said you wanted the sweetest man, but self indulgently it was the man who had no patience or time for anyone else in the world except for you that made you feel so… special, you dare say substantial. He had something angelic that was reserved only for you. He despised everyone, had distain for everything, but you… he just revelled in you. It blew your mind to this day.

That flame is always snuffed out by instances like this.

“Why can’t you just tell me when you have to go somewhere, Simon?” You try weakly.

He sighs loudly this time, his sighs and expression of agitation were usually used to silence you, to dismiss you, but this time it seemed genuine, like he’s run out of ideas for you. “Um,” he announces, raising a hand to scratch at the back of his head. “I don’t know, to be honest. Sorry.”

You feel your stomach turn in revolt, it was the worst possible answer. “You’re actually a joke, I hope you know that.”

“Maybe I am,” his voice is still so husky but loud, crystalline, inappropriately so in the silence of the early hours, it plays at your ears, makes them tingle. “Maybe this time apart will do us good.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, you can think about whether this is really the life you want.”

You furrow your brow, shaking your head in despair, you dig your finger nails into the bed, still warmed by his body, the great heat he emitted.

“What?” You lean forward, glaring accusingly, you feel your heart start to race, your lips tremor, your face burn. “You don’t care either way?”

His phone, the one you recognise to be his burner phone, buzzes, he looks at it and you can tell it’s a signal he needs to start moving.

“All I do is hurt you,” he murmurs, bending down to zip up his bag, he swings it over his shoulder.

“So don’t,” you throw your hands up in the air. “All you had to do was mention it. If you didn’t want me to make a big deal out of it I wouldn’t. If you needed space to prepare I would have given it to you.”

The phone buzzes again. “I have to go.”

But you’re climbing off the bed, racing to stand in his way. A bad decision, and you feel a twinge of guilt as soon as you do it.

“Y/n, please.”

“Do you want to be with me?”

“…I do.”

“So why do you do these things?” You can feel the tears dribble down your face now, you hand dashes up to wipe them away.

He’s silent for a moment, the skull stares down at you, contemplating, blinking slowly.

“Do you like seeing me hurt?”

“No.”

“Is this all some big game to you, do you get off on this?”

“No.”

“Are you trying to push me away?”

“I- No. I don’t really want you to go anywhere. I think you’re kind of stupid for staying with me sometimes, but I am grateful.”

You ignore the sting of the latter sentence, opting to focus on his initial statement.

“So why can’t you be honest with me?” You question, crossing your arms over yourself, trying to sooth the anxiety and distress that was settling into your bones. “If you want me to stay?”

He heaves another sigh and mutters a /fucking ‘ell/ under his breath. You don’t let his frustration deter you, or the fact he needs to be out the door. He perches on the arm of the sofa and pulls his mask off, gripping it in his hands, he stares down at it.

You watch his Adonis-esque face, his eyes have dimmed like he’s died inside. A small snag of guilt sets in, you’re aggravating him before a mission, it’s the opposite of what he needs, maybe this is why he doesn’t tell you.

“Do you know what, just go, Simon-“

“I didn’t,” he begins, he hesitates and then sighs, he shakes his head to himself before continuing. “I don’t want you to spend months counting down the days until I leave. I don’t want you to feel…/sad/.”

You pause, taking in the statement, and then place a hand on his arm, the barrier of his gear and heavy clothes making it seem like you were hardly even touching him.

“It’s okay to be a little bit sad sometimes.”

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “But I just want you to be your normal self.”

“Why?” You retort, automatically, eager to understand, the rare moment of openness driving you feral at the notion to syphon more information.

He places the mask back on and stands up again. “I really have to leave.”

You follow him to the front door, he pretends that you’re not. As he opens it you place a hand around his bicep and he stops, not bothering to turn around. He stands under the roof of the porch, the rain pummels down on to your driveway, you feel the spray and bitter breeze as it splashes down.

“Is it because… you think they might be our last days together?

“Yes,” he snipes back quickly, his irritation running deep through his voice.

You pull him back and he lets you, he even turns around and places his hands on your shoulder, establishing a firm grip, he stares down at you, slipping his eyes onto your as best as he could with the mask on. “Look, I don’t think you could ever really understand what it’s like, what I go out there to do.”

“So just tell me,” you sigh exasperated, “I’m ready to know the truth.”

“I can’t,” he hisses almost desperately, because he’s told you this many times. “I’m not allowed. And I don’t think I’d want to anyway.”

You press your lips together, swallowing hard. “Is it really that dangerous?”

“It is,” he punctuates the confirmation with a slight shake of your shoulders. “It really is. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to be worried. But I can’t stand here and tell you I know for sure that I’ll be back. I wish I could do that for you.”

“You don’t have to apologise for that, Simon.”

The phone buzzes again, it makes you stomach knot into a tight ball. “We can talk about it more, I promise.”

“And if you don’t come back?”

He pauses, he gazes down at you for a few beats before he lifts a hands to his face and peels up his mask, he leans down to press a hard, fire filled, kiss to your mouth. “Just remember that I love you. And only you. You’re all I have. But you…you have so much without me.”

“Not true,” you whisper to him helplessly, the tears can’t be contained any longer, you actually hear one drip to the floor.

He tuts and mumbles again. He steps forward and wraps his arms around you, your head hits his chest. “I know I’m not suppose to go about things this way, I’m so shit at this, y/n. Im still figuring it out, I was never suppose to have you.”

You hum a noise of question into his mountain of a body, asking him to elaborate. “I mean… I was never suppose to get into a relationship. But you just… I grew complacent by letting you into my life.”

He pulled away from you, holding you at arms length. You stay silent, willing him to continue, your eyes almost silently pleading. “But I got so tired of being alone all the time. And then you… I knew I was fucked the day I met you.”

You shut your eyes, your mind briefly fleeting to how you had asked him out, twice, and how hesitant he had been, how cautious he was, before falling into you and attaching himself to you, entwining himself and everything he consisted of with you.

“Now that’s the most you’re getting out of me,” he spoke, pointing his finger at you, his voice back to cold terseness. “I’m making myself cringe ‘ere.”

Despite yourself you manage a tiny smile at him, wiping away another stray tear. “Please come back.”

“I’ll try my best, love,” he speaks, turning around to leave once again. “Just keep yourself busy.”

And then he’s gone, you’re still in shock.

🦌Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra🦌

“Todays the day,” you say, as you sip your coffee. “Came around so quick.”

Rodolfo runs a tender, lingering hand over your shoulder as he takes a seat next to you.

Like many other mornings, the two of you had come out into the small cliff side garden behind your home, to watch the sunrise. You had a vast view of the whole town from up here. Life didn’t seem mundane or real in transient moments like this.

“Yet all the time you’re gone, it always goes by so slow.”

“Enjoy it,” he quips, reclining back in his seat. “When I retire, I’m gonna be under your feet, clinging to you twenty four seven. You’ll be grateful for this time.”

You chuckle with him but shake your head sincerely regardless. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You glance over at him, the gentle morning breeze ruffles his hair. He’s already dressed, ready to go in his jeans and t shirt, not strapped up with his gear yet, while you sit in your robe, the one that he claimed made his head swim.

You smile when he gazes back at you, and you can’t help the butterflies that flap their wings against your ribcage. He was just so beautiful, and more importantly he was well and truly yours. In every sense and aspect. His loyalty and dedication was profound and special, like the rarest gemstone.

“I can’t wait for you to retire actually,” you tell him as he takes your hand in his. “I can’t wait for you to be out of danger. It’s what I look forward to the most.”

His eyes soften for you, softer than they already are at his default. He has gentlest eyes you’ve ever seen, doe like, they’re the clearest indicator of what a humble, empathetic man he is. “I know, my love. I have no intention of doing this for longer than I have to.”

“Promise?”

“Of course,” he confirms nonchalantly, looking back out to the sunrise, the golden light reflecting off his face. “I know you can only truly be at peace once I leave it all behind. That’s what’s important to me.”

You turn to the look at the sunrise also with a small joyous laugh. “You’re the soppiest man I’ve ever met.”

He shrugged, rubbing circles into the back of your hand. “It’s like I’ve told you, deep down, I’m a lover, not a fighter. What can I say?”

“But are you a better lover, or are you a better fighter?” you turn to him, a teasing grin on your face.

“Oh,” He scoffed and a small smirk lit up his face, the boyishness he had left in him rising to the surface. “Don’t act like you don’t already know the answer to that. I’m happy to remind you before I leave, so it stays fresh in your memory, I still have a few hours.”

You laugh at him, but when you turn to him again he’s giving you a pointed look, something fiery glints in his eyes, his lips are pressed together earnestly. So you get up without a word, suppressing the haughty smile as you hear him follow you towards your bedroom.

He leaves with a kiss, a flurry of sweet nothings in your ear, and instead of feeling dismayed you feel hopeful. Optimistic. Less goodbyes were on the horizon from the sweetest man you had ever known.

🦚Alejandro Vargas🦚

On the mornings of he’s due out on long mission, Alejandro wakes you up with kisses, littering them on your face, your neck, for extra motivation he’ll plant some on your thighs and special one on your hip bone. He’d huskily murmur and ramble about how much he loves you and how he can’t wait for this bullshit to be over with so he can get back to you.

“Just want to lay in bed with you all day,” he’d groan into your neck. “Why do you have to be so warm and soft and delicious all the time?”

You laugh at him, cherishing the way his arms wrapped that extra bit tighter around you. “This is the life you picked,” you teased. “My hero, always making huge sacrifices.”

“Being away from you is the biggest sacrifice mankind has ever seen,” he propped himself up on his elbow, and bless his heart he did have a genuine, endearing pout on his face, like a child who didn’t want to get up for school. “You gonna be good for me while I’m gone? Best behaviour?”

You make a fake gaging sound, rolling your eyes heavily at him. “Hurry up and leave, my god.”

His response his to envelope you in a bear hug again, nipping at your ears and neck, squeezing your sides while you whine in protest.

It’s when he levels you with a heart felt sincere look you grow serious too, gazing back into his eyes wordlessly. He plants a kiss to your lips and you snuggle back into him.

“I love you so much,” he yawns. “So so much.”

“Love you more.”

“Impossible.”

You lay in silence for a while, his hold on you growing tighter, you fight the urge to drift back to sleep. “You know,” he sighs, kissing your temple. “Maybe they don’t need me for this one.”

“Really?” You ask, almost hopefully.

“No…” he groans dramatically into your hair, clamping a hand down onto the back of your head. “I /have/ to go. God damn it. Who would be me… Jesus Christ.”

Your suppress your grin and he curses to himself, forcing himself up. You almost cry at the sudden loss of contact. An impish smile comes to his face as he rips the sheets back, throwing them off the bed.

You recoil into yourself, your body clad in just your underwear meaning it’s instantly exposed to the fresh air. “You’re such an asshole.”

He laughs, running a hand through his hair. “When I come home,” he gestures towards your body, raising his eyebrows in approval. “You better be waiting for me just like that, I’ll accept nothing less.”

“You’ll come home to an empty house if you carry on,” you grumble as you cross the bed to grab the sheets, but you smile at him, rolling your eyes. “Go on, go shower, get ready, you’ll be late.”

He holds out his hand to you. “So what are you waiting for? Come on, you’re holding me up.”

You tut but can’t stop yourself from taking his hand. He leads you into the bathroom, and like always, you give him the send off that’s made him come to enjoy getting up to go on missions.

🥃Captain John Price 🥃

Expert preparation and years of experience meant the captain was calm on the mornings he was due on missions. You both got up very early, you cooked eggs while he flicked through a newspaper.

“This one’s gonna be a walk in the park, love,” he spoke to your turned back, voice more rich and decadent due to few hours he had been awake. “I’ll be back by Friday afternoon, easy.”

“If you say so,” you mused, a small smile coming to your face, yet your mind lingered on last time, he had come back with a vicious knife wound to the shoulder, a ghastly long laceration that you had to change the dressing for. You can remember the way the colour was stolen from his cheeks, how glassy his eyes had become and it was like a glimpse of something unspeakable… You swallowed the thoughts down, shooed the memories away like they were mischievous ghosts in the rooms of your mind. Your man had been doing this for years and years, he was the best in the game, you had nothing to worry about.

You soon placed the plate down in front of him, his scrambled eggs and toast, always his favourite. You watch him eat as you enjoyed your cup of coffee, he points his fork at the eggs and nods with satisfaction as he chews. “To this day, the best scrambled eggs I’ve ever tasted.”

You laugh silently, a small breath coming through your nose, but your know it doesn’t meet your eyes. You catch his gaze and he mirrors your emotion even as he chews. He’s caught you starting to slip into the sadness. “You’ll always be careful won’t you? Think of me before you jump in front of a bullet or something?”

He tosses the last piece of toast into his mouth and pauses before answering, wiping the crumbs from his hearty moustache. He then leans forward, reaching across the kitchen table to grab your hand, rubbing his calloused thumb over your knuckle and you look up at him.

“When shit hits the fan and I have to fight my way back home, tooth and nail, your gorgeous little face pops into my head, and that’s what drives me forward.”

You drop your gaze to your lap as you feel your heart ripple and flutter accordingly, a tender lump begin to swell in your throat. “Fight for yourself too. Don’t just do it for me.”

“No chance,” he dismissed. “It’s all for you, love. I’d be much more reckless if I didn’t have you here waiting for me.”

You breathe a smile and squeeze his hands, he raises your own hand to his lips, smiling into the skin gingerly as he kisses it.

As always, you stand at the front door as he gathers his bags and gear. He lays several languid kisses to your lips, relatively chaste but still passionate and lingering enough to make you wish you were both still entwined together in your beautifully warm bed. You ache when you remember how he had made love to you last night, like you were the most precious treasure to grace the earth, like he was scared to break you yet couldn’t get enough of you, like he couldn’t ever drink you in quite as much as he needed to.

He holds your face and stares for a moment, and you know he is drinking you in, surveying every feature. You can fully comprehend why that is.

“I love you, darling.”

“I love you too,” you respond softly, wrapping your hands around his wrists and turning your head to kiss his palm that’s right next to your mouth. “Please be careful.”

“Always.”

You watch him walk down the drive and get into the transport. You sigh, holding your chest, praying to whoever to bring him home once again.

🧼 Johnny “Soap” Mactavish 🧼

Your man, he was back from his run, hopping in the shower, all by 5am

You knew he was due away in a couple hours, so you thought you might as well get up with him. After all, if he could do all this before 5, the least you could do was get up and make him some breakfast.

You made him a full English, his favourite. The running and predictable joke between you two being of course, he was Scottish.

He was sat on the bed in his boxers when you brought it in on a tray.

“You shouldn’t have babe,” he grinned, all white teeth and sparkling blue eyes. Sometimes it was hard to believe he was a military man and not some swanky real estate agent or something.

You still flush and burn at him in this state, half naked, laying back propped against the pillow, staring up at you like you held the key to everything beautiful in the world.

“You’ve got a busy few weeks ahead of you,” you respond, setting the tray down. “Best you get off to a good start.”

He looked down at the food and then back up at you, a frown marring his features.

“Where’s yours though, hen?”

“I’ll make something later,” you wink. “Too focused on taking care of you right now.”

You sit down at the end of the bed as he tucks in. “I’ll have to put a ring on your finger if you carry on like this.”

You scoff, leaning back against the bed frame at the foot of the bed. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,”he chirps back enthusiastically. “Married person behaviour this is. Going above and beyond the line of duty.”

He sucks some stray tomato ketchup off his thumb, watching you with mirth as you watch him back, mildly unamused. You found it quite cheeky for him to tease you with the idea of a proposal.

Still, you couldn’t take him seriously, it was extremely difficult to.

“Well,” you begin, nabbing a hash brown from the plate, he tries to swat your hand away but you’re too nimble. “You’re my big strong hard working man. And you deserve it all.”

“You’re damn right there,” he nods. “Wouldn’t argue with that at all.”

You sit in silence for a while, companionable and comfortable, the birds begin to chirp prettily as dawn breaks and soon Johnny turns off the small lamp on your bedside as daylight floods the room. He places the tray to the side, making a point of rubbing his stomach, much to your endearment, he has bloated a little, sporting a small pot belly now. “Amazing as always.”

You smile, shrugging at him. The melancholy begins to set in just as the alarm clocks red sabres set to 6am. He sensed it, a misty glaze coming over his face to mirror yours. “Gonna miss me huh?”

You nod quickly, ducking your head down.

He coos at you and then opens his arm, smiling consolingly. “C’mere gorgeous.”

You crawl to him, tucking yourself into his arm, laying your head on his chest and he begins to stroke your hair tenderly, his touch rendered unbelievably soft, lingering, it’s blissful. “Same as always. Gone for a little while, and then back again. Before you even miss me too much. What you gonna do while I’m gone?”

“Just working,” you murmur, you’ve shut your eyes now.

“And what else? Something fun?”

“Mm.”

“I know,” he taps your shoulder. “You keep telling me how you want to learn how to paint. You could go to art classes.”

You raise your head to look at him, to see if he was serious, you plant your hands in his chest. “Maybe…”

“Yeah you should,” he shakes your shoulder, as if he’s trying to get you excited. “I’ll pay, use my card. But you have to paint me something amazing. That’s my only condition.”

“Amazing? I’d be a beginner.”

“No excuses,” he smirked, tapping you on the nose. “I expect a Picasso… or a… um…”

You let out a laugh as his faces twists in confusion, something akin to a perplexed puppy. “Christ, you know that’s the only one I know. That’s bad, that is. Really should have stayed in school longer.”

You hum, resting your head back on his chest, feeling his flesh beneath your hands. “Love you.”

“Love you too sweetheart,” and he held you against him for as long as he could, before he had to set off on his travels.

You told him before he left; “I’ll paint you the best picture the worlds ever seen, as long as you come back.”

“Deal.”

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blingblong55 · 10 months

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Just a bet- Philip Graves

This is the part 2 to this

Based on a request: Can I make a request, please of a heartbreaker Graves x Naive/Innocent Fem!reader? (Am in need some feelings hurt to feel something) Prompts; - reader is a general’s daughter, whilst grave is an ambitious soldier who aimed to be a captain (or somewhere along the lines) - There were bets of who can f-ck the general’s daughter happening behind the scene among the soldiers, and Grave decided to join in - Unfortunately reader, fell in love with grave. Found out it just a bet, felt betrayed and heartbroken. I hope this is okay with you, also it's okay if you don’t want to do it 🫶🏻🫶🏻 tqsm!

F!Reader, angst, implied sexual relations

A/N: like any man would say "short but good", enjoy:)

There you stood in an empty hallway before reaching the mess hall, heartbroken and all hope lost.

It was absurd how much his words and actions had hurt you, you were never asked to be his girlfriend but it hurt very much to know all he wanted this entire time was to use you for some bet. In many ways, he humiliated you for money. You were the girl any guy would want to sleep with, that you knew about; But for the first time in so long, you did believe he wanted you for you, that for a long time someone was interested in who you were as a human.

To be honest, when he took you on those dates, held your hand at that park and put his coat over your shoulder that night, you felt like someone cared enough to do those little things. It was like you were 13 all over again, blushing and looking away when he did something cute for you. At times you did want to see past those dates, how it would be during summer, him and you at your parent's house for some party. He didn't leave any clues of what master plan he had during those dates, that he was smart about.

The voices of the men were muffled as you backed away, not daring to walk into mess hall. He of course thought you'd be okay, not once checking in to text you like how he would when he was trying to desperately win that money. Your eyes were teary as you walked back to your dad's office and you so desperately tried to blink them away. Unfortunately, your dad had been a man like Graves, although he would never admit to it.

In his young years, he too tried to get with the general's daughter, but when he met your mum minutes before he tried anything with said daughter, he backed away and let life takes its course.

The look in your eyes was something he had seen before when you found out your first boyfriend used you for your looks back when you were 17. So as any good father, he stood from his desk and walked to you, "alright, kiddo, c'mere." his arms open wide. Your face on his chest, like the time you rode a bike and fell, how much you cried and how much he comforted you.

"It's not fair," you began, his hand rubbing your back.

"I just wish this time someone liked me, Dad…just me" your voice soft yet filled with hurt. And for minutes he let you cry in his arms. Maybe he can't discharge Graves for hurting his little girl, but rest assured he would make the man pay for it.

After weeks of you finally going back to being quiet and reserved, Graves saw you again, walking with some female soldier. You and her making jokes and sharing something on your phones. He did feel bad after a while. He missed how you would talk about any new space discoveries and how your face would light up when you would get excited about it. To be clear, the money was a bonus, he did like talking to you.

The promotion wasn't so important when he started to think of you at night, were you asleep? Are you thinking of him like he is of you? Will you talk in the morning over text? Did you like him?

But after all, what is a man if not selfish and rude? Graves did regret not being the guy you'd take home for the holidays, whoever the next man could be, he would make sure that man knows how lucky he is to listen to you talk. After you and he lost contact and the sweet glances you'd give the other stopped, he started to look into any new space discoveries daily, just in case you and him talked again and he'd wanted to impress you.

For a moment, a soldier like him felt normal by your side, he did like how your hands always found a way to his and he did picture you going back home with him, meeting his folks and spending the fourth of July with him and how he'd kiss you as the fireworks went off.

Life is full of mysteries, you follow or chase them and if you are a fool like him, you'll end up sitting alone in an office by the age of 39. The girl he later realised was the love of his life with another, probably about to start a family while he commands Shadow Company. To be honest, at times he looks back at pictures of you and searches for you only to understand you have disappeared from the face of the Earth. What could've been a life full of fruition is now a life of misery and regrets as he sits alone, lights dimmed as he scrolls through old messages.

If only he would stop looking for your late father. If only he would stop asking questions to those who were close to you, maybe he wouldn't be standing in the grave of an unmarked soldier. A small petal on the tomb, like the nickname he had given you during those golden times.

When he later found out he lost a life with you to the enemy, he made sure to search the ends of the world to kill the man personally. Because how dare he take away the only delicate petal in his life that hadn't died so easily from his touch.

All he will do in this life is regret winning a bet on men who have since died in wars created by men. It was just a bet, he'd tell himself every time he would go for a picnic at your grave or at the park where he wanted to lean in and kiss you on your second date. Just a bet.

A/N: angsty enough? dunno, but I do hope you like it :)

Tags: @kiamewrites @casimodull

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iblameashley · 3 months

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A - to - Z's of Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Made a similar list for Konig a while back, figured it was time for Simon / Ghost. This list is hella gay, FYI.

!!!!NSFW!!!!

A - Aftercare

Simon / Ghost cares a great deal about aftercare regardless if its a one-night stand or a longer term relationship. It will always start with asking how you're doing and what you liked and what you didn't. He'll make sure you're actually okay before he'll ask if you need anything else; water, food or a shower. Though he still struggles with requests for cuddles. Its very intimate for him, but if he likes you, he'll give you a bone crushing cuddle.

B - Body part (their favourite)

Stomach. Simon / Ghost likes guys with a bit of belly fat, something soft and preferably hairy. It's so different from his toned body, and though he'd never admit it to you, it makes him feel happy and calm just laying on it.

C - Cum (anything)

Generally speaking his cum is rather neutral in taste, a hint of salt. But its thick and hot, and he shoots long ropes of it when he cums. Refuses to jerk off while on long missions because he wants to 'save it all' for you.

You don't have to worry about overstimulating him either, he'll do it happily himself until he empties his balls inside you. You'll feel his cock head throbbing inside you as he whimpers and trembles on top of you.

D - Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Really wants to eat your ass out after he's cum in it, but is afraid you'll be disgusted by it and refuse.

E - Experience (how experienced are they?)

On a scale of Virgin Pure – Barracks Bunny? He's a solid 'Took the bloke from the pub home'. He's not adverse to having sex; in fact, he loves it... its the intimacy that people tend to want that freaks him out. Simon / Ghost doesn't know how to reciprocate (or so he tells himself). But he's more than happy to get his rocks off if he fancies a man.

F - Favourite position

Generally speaking, as long as he's on top, he's happy. He loves looking down at your handsome face or even the back of your head as he takes you. That being said, Simon / Ghost is also a big fan of you on your knees. The way you look up at him with his cock in your mouth? Fuck... drives him wild.

G - Goofy (Serious of Humorous)

During sex, this man is on a mission. You are both going to have a good time, even if it kills him. BUT, after sex? After you're thoroughly pleased and unable to walk? This man will treat you to the worst jokes in his shitty-joke roster and there is nothing you can do to escape it.

H - Hair (Body / Groomed / Color)

Dirty-bond / Sandy hair in tufts between his pectorals that runs down his abdomen and into this pants. Keeps his pubes trimmed (but never shaved!) Its incredibly soft, too because Simon / Ghost takes care of his hair.

His ass has a nice dusting that trails down into surprisingly hairy legs. Oddly though, has almost no arm-hair at all.

I - Intimacy

He would tell you he'd rather be waterboarded or have his fingers and toes broken with a hammer than be intimate, but he's a Goddamn liar. He doesn't recognize his own intimate moments, thinking that the things he does for you 'just makes sense', but are actually very sweet deep down. But he does struggle with accepting intimacy. He'll tense at hug, pull away for kisses – you've learned to not be insulted – and tries not to let his heart skip a beat when he looks you in the eyes as he's buried deep inside you.

But at the end of the day, even if he fails – real or imagined – at intimacy, he'll never hurt you. He is very aware of your emotional well-being and he'd be damned to ever raise a hand to you.

J - Jack off

Used to mostly just be a form of release between missions and hook-ups. A means to an end, so to speak. But once he met you? Fuck... the way you looked at him, the way you looked at him when you walked in on him jerking off.

He loves to stroke his cock for you. He'll take it nice and slow, building himself up to an orgasm and then denying himself until you give him permission to release – usually on your face – and he's never been more satisfied with masturbation. Its so much better than his two-minute, violently jerking off somewhere on base experiences.

K - Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Loves size difference most of all. He'll be your big-strong man if you'll be his charming short king. There is something about the power dynamic that just gets him going. But again, he'd never use his size or strength to hurt you; he wants to feel like all his power is doing something other than killing... and what better way than to pleasure a charming man sexually?

As previously mentioned, chubby guys too. Loves a squishy body to touch and massage. Loves the soft flesh against the marred skin of his body (how do you not pull away from him?!).

Simon / Ghost longs to let go of his need for control and be dominated by a man; but trust is hard earned and he only reserves bottoming for that special-someone.

Has tried a variety of toys and only has a few select he actually likes. pocket masturbators are great compared to his calloused hands, and he's enjoyed a few butt plugs and dildo's, but he's not be able to venture too far with his exploration; there's still a little bit of shame and embarrassment he feels when he uses them (you'll make him get over it...).

L - Location (favorite places to do the do)

Simon / Ghost is a private man in general, so it would always have to be somewhere he felt safe. This would likely be his flat, your flat, his quarters on base or maybe even his office – locked, of course – if he was feeling a bit more adventurous.

As long as you're in the safety and comfort of a flat, though, any and all surfaces are acceptable. Tables, sofa's, counters, the bed or the shower are all perfect places to drive himself into your prostate and make you writhe for him.

M - Motivation (turn on’s)

Simon / Ghost loves it when you reach under his shirt and just gently play with the small of his back. Instant way to get this man in the mood, followed closely by teasing him by slipping fingers under the waist of his pants.

Can't go wrong with a classic, either; give his thighs some attention. Caress and tease slowly up towards his groin and you'll have this man growling like an animal.

Just seeing you being you. Walk around the flat in your lounging clothes, or his hoodie, or even shirtless. Simon / Ghost just enjoys seeing you in your most relaxed state around him since most people aren't.

N - No (wouldn’t do; turn offs)

Wouldn't hurt you. That should go without saying, but its still a deeply rooted fear that he projects onto you. He's a killer after all, so you must be waiting for the day he looses it on you. He won't. Not ever. Not you... not the one man who looks at him like that.

As for things he won't do in bed or let you do? Handcuffs are a no-go. Ever. Same with blindfolding.

Simon / Ghost also don't enjoy hickies, burns, scars or love marks, but that's due to his feelings regarding his scars and burns. Absolutely no choking either, but that also goes along with not hurting you, though he's not a fan of being choked either.

No scat, blood, diaper play, baby talk, age-gaps or age role-play.

O - Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Simon / Ghost already has a difficult time trying to sub for his lovers, so like hell he's going to deny himself -and you- the pleasure of sucking a man off. He can get lost in the moment as he swallows your cock whole, swirling his tongue around and playing with your foreskin. He will moan and groan over your length and swallow every last drop of your cum.

As for his skill? He's better at killing people for sure, but he'll make sure you get off.

P - Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Generally speaking, Simon / Ghost would prefer a slower, steadier pace. He wanted to enjoy every last moment of pleasure you're both experiencing. He doesn't take leave often and he doesn't have much time between missions as it is, so he leeches every second of pleasure from every encounter.

He sometimes gets a little too into the pleasure though and will go a bit feral. A need to just pound into you deep and hard until you're both a puddle of sweat and semen stuck to each other.

Q - Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Depends on how you define a quickie. Simon / Ghost isn't one to just blow a load into you in five minutes and run, but if he's on a time constraint... sure. He usually saves quickies for jerking off.

R - Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Simon / Ghost already takes enough risk in his military life, so doesn't take nearly as many in his personal life. As long as your risky suggestions don't include high risk of infections or illness, or harm (obviously), he's open to considering them.

S - Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

You'll likely get the best hour of your life out of Simon / Ghost. He'll set a pace and stick to it... If he decides to overstimulate himself in the process, you can get another thirty to forty-five minutes out of him.

T - Toys (Own toys? Use them? on a partner or themselves?)

A few dildo and butt plugs, nothing too fancy or large and owns a few different pocket masturbators.

U - Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not a teaser, not overly vocal in general. Will grunt and groan, whine a bit when overstimulated, but doesn't really talk outside of a check in. You're safe until he's spent and the bad jokes start.

V - Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Simon / Ghost will grunt rather loudly once he gets into it.

W - Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Would never hurt you or do anything to make you uncomfortable, but loves it when a man beats him off and abuses his foreskin. Beat the man off hard and fast and be ready to take his load when you push him over the edge.

X - X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

6' 4” Tall

Mildly hairy

Bulky

Curved cock

6.5” Hard and foreskin pulls all the way back over his head

Keeps everything tidy down there

Y - Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Before a mission? Low

During a mission? Low

After a mission? High. So very high... he'll find a nice lad to sate him the day he returns home.

Z - Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Simon /Ghost rarely sleeps more than three hours a night on the best of days, to say nothing of the nightmares he has regularly. So even after a long night of fucking and sucking, he's still not likely to fall asleep very quickly; if at all.

Assuming he likes you long enough to stay the night, he'll only fall asleep after you have, and he'll be awake long before you as well. He'll probably be gone too, if you aren't dating... but don't worry, he'll leave a note.

#gay #lgbtq #cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw 2 #cod ghost #ghost cod #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #mw2 #mw 2 #mw ii #headcanon #a to z

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vivisectedvitality · 7 months

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ok so my personal thought is that ghost and soap don't get married til their like mid fifties after they retire and even then it's just legal documents they don't have a wedding. and they don't really tell anyone because it doesn't really change much. and then one day 141 meet up for drinks or smth and someone else recognizes soap and goes 'oh hey mr mactavish' and he goes 'hey! n it's mactavish-riley now actually' and holds a whole long bench conversation while everyone else is fucking flabbergasted. and when he finally turns back around theyre like 'repeat that pls' and soaps smug ass is sat there grinning n he goes 'i say again. 's mactavish-riley now'. and everyone loses their mind

#ghostsoap #mw ii #this is from my notes app from eons ago (april) but i mean. i was right.#specifically put 'i say again' cause thats a thing only ghost says n i thought it was cheezy lmao #forever on the fence about the hyphenated names btw. like some days i like em others its too clunky #incoming transmission // 📡#ghoap #ghost is just sat by grinning like a fool in this situation

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sweetsweetsaturn · 6 months

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Just curious lol.

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teyamsatan · 6 months

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➸ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ᴡʜᴏ ᴄᴜᴍꜱ ɪɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀɴᴛꜱ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ɢʀɪɴᴅ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴏᴄᴋ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴇᴇɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ

pairings: simon "ghost" riley x female!reader

warnings: pwp under the cut (18+ mdni), pet names (doll, love)

ghost masterlist (x) | click here if you want to be tagged (x)

Can you blame the poor guy? Trapped in missions for weeks, sometimes months at a time, unable to feel you, to have you, to fuck you. He's so focused and intent on finishing his duty as thouroughly as possible, he's unable to think of much else, except for seldom, lonely nights where he's missing you just so much more than he can even conceptualise, his throbbing cock aching from the need to spill his load inside your tight, spasming walls, as he pushes past the point of pleasure into almost pain, an endless desire to overstimulate you and see how much you could take before you were cock-drunk and limp around him.

But now, after so long, here you are, safe in his arms, and he’s promised himself he’s going to take it slow, promised he wasn’t gonna pin you to the ground the second he saw you again and show you exactly how much he missed you… so instead, he suggested a movie, an innocent, romantic… slow movie. And he tried to focus, tried to pay attention to the dialogue that was too sappy and cheesy for him to ever truly take seriously, but how could he, when your ass was so perfectly nestled against his crotch, and with every small, inconsequential movement he felt his dick get harder and his thoughts more incoherent, the need to own you almost feral.

"Having fun there, eh, love?"

"I don't know what you mean..." it was coy, and almost believable, the surprised tone of your voice, if only not accompanied by the smirk he knew and loved so much, and the mischievous slow grinding of your ass on his now rock hard cock, that was begging for a hand or a pussy to wrap around it, that was almost rabid with want.

"I missed you, Si." you feel so good, even like this... so sinfully good, in fact, he can't help groaning at the sensation and buck his hips impossibly closer to yours, playing carefully in his mind's eye all the things he was planning on doing to you later, how you're going to regret making a man like him, a strong, unyielding man weak in the knees, seeing white in front of his eyelids as the pleasure becomes too much and he comes, thick ropes of cum spilling into his underwear and staining the underside of his jeans.

"Oops!" you laugh and the chuckle gets stuck in your throat as he pushes two large fingers past your panties and into your soaking pussy.

"You have no idea what you did, doll. Now let me show you what happens when you misbehave."

taglist: @codsunshine

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hunterbunter3000 · 1 year

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OH LORD MAMA TAKE THE WHEEL THISNIS MY LAST ONE.

imagine the boys just got back from a mission and when they enter the base, they found sweetheart cooking their country food for them. The taste is giving ✨SEASONED✨, its giving ✨you want me to marry you✨, its giving ✨that type of food that added 10 years to your life span✨, ITS GIVING ✨YOU DID A VERY GOOD JOB AND IM PROUD OF YOU✨

NOOOO NEVER STOP THESE I SWEAR YOU'RE JUST FINE 😍😍🫂🫂 these give me life you have no idea miss roro💕

(@missroro ROROOO GURL IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER😭😭 PLS FORGIVE ME I WAS SHADOWBANNED AND THEN OTHER ASKS KEPT POURING IN🧎‍♀️this is quite long, so hopefully you will take that as a sacrifice for my tardiness 🙏I hope you're doing well! I miss you LOTS 💓)

BUT UGHHH GOD

And the FACT that I already have a scenario that's kinda like this blows my mind 🤯🤯

When Sweetheart wasn't needed for this certain mission, she said "aight bet. I know yall are gonna be so damn tired and hungry so watch this WORK."

(Idk if you wanted Sweetheart to cook her home food, or cook their country meals, so imma do both 💀)

Her home-cooked food:

When Task Force 141 came back to the base they smelt that SEASONING IMMEDIATELY LIKE--

Gaz: Something just happened.

I know he's the FIRST to book it to the living room, and then he sees the PLETHORA

GRITS, SWEET YAMS, MAC AND CHEESE, CHICKEN, HAM, GREENS AND OX TAILS, CORNBREAD-- ALL THE GOOD SHIT YOU CAN THINK OOOFFF

Gaz squeals (LITERALLY SQUEALS) cause he's been wanting to taste her cooking.

(He's always asked about African-American cooking since he grew up with British cooking. Sweetheart told him the goodness and he's been hooked on it ever since)

Everyone else comes in and sees the table and they're just in shock

Like what the hell- how long did it take you to make all this?? I love you???

It felt so domestic, like coming home to a home cooked meal after getting off work and seeing your wife smile at you saying "welcome home, dear!"

Sweetheart is just beaming at them, saying "I know yall have been through hell, so have a lil' piece of heaven!" (She's so CHEESY) the mother in her comes thru, telling them to take showers and get situated first then come eat.

WHEN I TELL YOU THAT THEY B O O K E D IT TO THE MENS SHOWERS TO GET CLEAN-- GHOST PUSHED ALEX AND SOAP INTO A WALL SO HE CAN GET THERE FIRST (König and Price were already in there LOL they're witches I swear)

They were done so quickly Sweetheart had to check if some of them were actually clean

Sweetheart: Suds?

Soap, flushed: uhm, yeah?

Sweetheart, eyes squinting: Did you wash yo' ass?

Soap:

Soap: Yes...?

Sweetheart: GO GET CLEANED

Soap: BUT FOOD--

Sweetheart: G O

(Alex and Gaz low key laughing at him and Price is disgusted that Soap sometimes doesn't wash his ass)

They all finally sit down and they just enjoy the warm feeling in their chests while looking at the food. Sweetheart turns on some r&b music (is this a black 80s BET movie? MAYBE) and she walks to the edge of the table, eyes are filled with love and pride for her team. "Aight, I'm gonna keep this short and simple cause I know all yall are hungry and tired," she starts. The team sit on every word she says, as they always do. She smiles. "I'm glad you all made it back safely. Successful mission or not, I will always be proud of all of you. I love yall."

She's too good for them, man. Wtf

They all just fell in love with her more AHA

So she sits down and the chatter and clatter begins. They all moaned so much when they ate the food 💀💀

(They all went into a food coma and had the BEST SLEEP EVER)

(If she made everyone's food from their culture) (I put my whole ass into this wow)

When SAS and Los Vaqueros trudged through the hallway, they heard a clang and a yelping "Ow! Son of a-"

Price and Ghost look at each other before picking up the pace towards the kitchen. "Sweetheart? Are you -" Price freezes when he sees the kitchen filled with different types of food. " - Okay..."

"Oh fuck-- Hey! Yall are back already! That's wonderful." Sweetheart nervously laughs as she wipes her hands on her messy apron. The others start to come in, not expecting the different dishes on the counters. She squeals, "Nah uh! Don't come in here! Go and get cleaned now, all of you!" They stare at her for a bit until sprinting to the Men's Showers. Shouts and loud bangs from falling tact gear are heard, making Sweetheart chuckle and shake her head. Once the men came back to the kitchen, she was gone and so was the food. "In here!" She yelled. Soap made it first to the dining room and let out a big gasp. On the long, make-shift table sat a multitude of different foods and drinks each man recognized from their home country.

"Oh, mo leannan, this looks barry!" Soap exclaims.

"In English, Mactavish." Ghost mumbles, making Soap kiss his teeth. "This looks wonderful, St.! I'm- how did you--" Sweetheart shushes him, Soap still smiling ear to ear. "Don't ask questions! Just come sit down and get your plate."

They all grab a plate and utensils with rushed steps and big smiles.

- 𓆩♡𓆪 -

Price, Ghost, and Gaz sat at the end, where they all recognize the things to make Bangers and Mash. Shepherd's Pie and Fish and Chips could be found on all their plates with a side of Barm cakes. Their dishes melt in their mouths, dragon breathing at every bite since it was still hot. Ghost had a feeling in his chest that he felt extremely warm and overwhelming. He didn't think she would make something like this for him. "How're yall enjoying it?" She asks behind Price. "Umberweivable!" Gaz spouted out, a disbelief and amazed look on his face. Sweetheart laughs at him, "Hopefully, that meant unbelievable!" Gaz nods quickly with big food-filled cheeks. "Absolutely amazing, Princess." Price says after taking a swig of homemade Ginger Beer. "Haven't had Shepherd's Pie and Ginger Beer in so long. Good run down memory lane." Price smiles with soft and grateful eyes. Sweetheart snorts out a laugh and taps her cheek. Price raises an eyebrow until the embarrassment creeps in. He grabs his napkin and wipes the food that was stuck to his cheek. "I'm glad you like it, Cap! It was so hard finding an easy recipe for that damn beer." Sweetheart grumbles, looking at the kitchen with furrowed eyes and hand on Price's shoulder. He leans into her touch and sighs. "All in all, thank you." He murmurs, lifting her hand and placing a kiss on it. Sweetheart giggles, ignoring the heat coming from her hand. "You're very welcome!" She moves to Ghost, who has been quietly shoveling food in his mouth. "Hey Ghost! Are you--" Sweetheart stopped when he looked up at her. Eyes big with tears running down his flushed, stuffed cheeks. His eyes tick away from her changed face. "What...?" Simon whispers. She gives him a soft smile as one of her hands wipes off his tears. He didn't even notice the tears falling... "You enjoying the food?" She asks softly. Oh, that tone. That tone she uses only for Simon. He shivers, nodding his head slowly and then laying on her hip. She coos, wrapping her hand around his head while giving him head scratches to calm him down. You're alright, Simon. She's saying through her touch. Enjoy yourself.

Soap was practically vibrating in his chair when he saw a pitcher of Scottish Ale next to a big pot of Cullen Skink and an array of Scotch Pies with small Bacon Butties on the side. He did a double take when he saw a dish filled with Stovies and fried cut potatoes. Just how he ate it when he was younger. He lets out a disbelieved laugh as he reaches for it. "St.!" He calls out to her. She comes over with a worried look. "Wassup Suds? Everything okay?" He looks up at her with glassy eyes and a smile, nudging the Stovies. Sweetheart snickers, "I told you I would make it! I remember you tellin' me that your...màthair? Or-- mudder- damn I forgot how to say it-- but ya mom use to make this for you! So I looked up a recipe and may have added some of my extra spice to it." She explains as she whispers and laughs that last part. He can't believe that she remembers that. He told her that when he met her; telling her all the different Scottish cuisines. "I hope it tastes good..." She mumbles to herself. She cares. Soap grabs his spoon and collects some of the dish. She cares so much. Memories going through his mind when he chews it. She cares too much. "It's delicious." Soap whimpers out. Sweetheart smiles as she bends down to hug him. "I'm glad you like it."

Alejandro exclaims loudly when he takes a bite of his abundantly covered Elote. Rudy chuckles at him, taking another big ladel of Pancita and putting it in his bowl. "Hey guys, are you- WOW," Sweetheart yells. "You guys really ate almost everything! The Tamales and Flautas are gone..." Alejandro hums as he swallows. "So is the Ceviche and the Pipián." They both laugh at Sweetheart's surprised face. "Yall were hungry!!"And we still are, mama!" Alejandro snickers, taking more bites of his corn. "Mi flor, how did you make some of these dishes? And by yourself?" Rudy asks. He's so proud of her. He feels like he's back at home. "Oh, I had some help! Kinda-- some of the rookies helped me make the dishes! But then I kicked them out cause they were getting on my nerves." Sweetheart said, making the men laugh. "I knew you were a good cook. You would make a good wife someday, Sweetheart!" Alejandro shouted out as he smiled. Her shy laugh made him feel warm, but he wants his statement to come true.

König wanted to cry. He hasn't seen such a big pan of Tiroler Gröstl in a while. A basket of Kaiser Rolls is next to some Kasnocken and a pot full of Potato Gulasch. He scratches the brown hood he has on. Sweetheart made it for him so he could wear it when he's on base, since his other one was stinking up the joint. He watches Krueger take a big bite of his food and gulp down his drink that tastes like Almdudler. He's also wearing a hood that Sweetheart made for him; light blue fabric and handmade yellow stars scattered around it. It's scrunched up to his nose, his scarred lips still munching on his roll. He seems to be enjoying himself. König hasn't eaten with Krueger ever since they were kids. The impact on Krueger's actions in the past really changed everything for König and the family. But at least they're bonding in silence. "Hey, you two! Enjoying the food?" Sweetheart asks. Sweetheart. "Yes, meine kleine Göttin. It's very tasty." Krueger compliments her. She giggles, but it's cut short when Krueger grabs her arm and kisses her cheek. "Thank you for this wonderful feast, my love." He whispers in her ear with a smirk. Her mind goes blank for a moment, the heat of the kiss still searing on her brown skin. König grips his fork hard, turning his knuckles white. She sputters and then loudly laughs. "Yeah! No- no problem! I uh, König? How you uh, you enjoying the food?" He looks down at his plate, still quite full of food, yet not feeling like eating any of it anymore. König smiles with his eyes. "I am, Schatz. Thank you."

Horangi was enjoying himself to the fullest. Slurping down some Jajangmyeon with korean fried chicken and Kimchi fried rice with an egg. It reminds him so much of his mother's cooking, and when he didn't receive any Valentine's Day gifts so he would eat the noodles on Black Day. He blows on the noodles, the steam fogging up his black sunglasses. He wishes his past choices didn't bring him to this point. To be reminded of what he had, and now it's gone. He drank some of his soda, causing a big burp outta him. "You seem to be enjoying it, Horangi!" But without all his choices, he wouldn't have met her. He chuckles, covering his heavily scarred smile with his hand. Her warm hand snakes around his, gently pulling it down. She wants to see his smile. Her eyes sparkle at seeing his half-uncovered face. He's so pretty... "You like the noodles? M'sorry if I got the sauce wrong, I think I forgot some ingredients--" Horangi shakes his hand up. "No, no! It's perfect. The black bean sauce is amazing. I almost finished the whole pot." He's extremely impressed by her, but the cold feeling in his spine is wanting him to put the mask back on. Sweetheart squeals and claps, "Oh wonderful! I'm so glad you like it! By the way.." She leans down to hug his frozen form. "I hope to see your smile again. It's very pretty." She says. He is not grateful for his past choices, but he is grateful for her.

Alex and Roach enjoy their food in comfortable, happy silence. Alex hasn't had a decent cheeseburger since his leave. He dips a crinkle cut fry in ketchup, while Roach enjoys a big Maine Crab Roll. He's never tasted one before, but he always has, ever since Sweetheart gave him a postcard with the Roll on it, it's been his dream to taste one. "Yo, Alex! How's the burger?" Sweetheart asks, walking up to the both of them. Alex hums with a smile on his face. "You can't go wrong with a cheeseburger unless it's from a dirty bar." Sweetheart laughs, "Amen to that! And you're you doing, Gare Bear? Ya like the roll?" She asks sweetly. Roach can feel his face heat up from the nickname. He puts it down, finally taking breaths from horking it down non-stop, and putting two thumbs up. Her bright smile made both of them feel warm inside.

Graves sighs. His bones and joints hurt so damn bad. That mission with everyone was successful but it always costed some type of labor pain. He went to his dorm, already clean and changed into casual clothes. He could've sworn he heard laughing on the other side of the base... It didn't matter to him. All he wanted to do was to sleep off this pain. He notices a big plate covered in tin foil and a small note plus a coke-a-cola on his door mat. His eyes scan down the hall way with confused brows. Is he being pranked by one of his shadows? He better not be, he doesn't have the patience for it- Oh it's from Sweetheart. Wait- "What?" Graves mumbles, eyeing the messy note. The note reads:

Hey Graves. Congrats on the successful mission

Made you some dinner cause I'm pro proo pri PROU FUCK proud of you. That is the only time I'm gonna say that to you and it's not even in person. Doesn't matter, enjoy the food

Sweetheart ♡ (p.s. you still an asshole and NO I did NOT put laxatives in your food this time)

He huffs out a chuckle with a wobbly smile. So she does care for him. In a-- weird, hateful way. He walks in his dorm with food and drink in hand and opens the tin foil, the smell of barbecue baby back ribs, steamed carrots, buttered rolls and mashed potatoes fill his nostrils. His mouth waters immediately as he sits in his desk chair. He digs in with the utensils that Sweetheart gave him, his mind immediately going to his repeated fantasy about having a family with Sweetheart. Her, serving him a big plate of food with their baby boy on her hip. She kisses Graves's forehead and situates their son in the high chair before she starts to eat as well. A happy smile works on his face, not feeling the tears streaming down his cheeks. A happy family. "It's delicious..."

- 𓆩♡𓆪 -

After Dinner Bonus!

"Hey, no one go ANYWHERE! Yall are helping me clean all this shit up!" Sweetheart points out with a frown. Soap laughs, "Of course, hen! Why wouldn't we?"

"You did a lot for us, Princess. We'll take care of everything now. Go and take a load off." Price says close to her. Very close to her. "Nah, I can help!" Sweetheart pushed. "Your shoulder has been bothering you, hasn't it?" Ghost said, making Sweetheart flinch. "Why you gotta call me out like that, man?" Sweetheart whined. He was right, though. She's been rotating her left shoulder from time to time, playing it off every time one of the boys asked about it.

Alejandro laughs, placing his hand on her hip. His thumb doing small circles on her thin clothing. Rudy and Krueger strolled towards Sweetheart. Rudy wore a soft smile, yet his eyes told a different story. A more mischievous story. Alejandro's voice dropped an octave, making a hot jolt spike through Sweetheart's spine. "Come now, mama. I know just what to do to help you relax."

°.Reblogs are highly appreciated.! Thank you for your support everyone!!

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