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allay-j11no · 9 days

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𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼

Headcannon's about Soap, Ghost, Price, Rory, and Gaz in my AU!!

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PRICE ------------------------------- - Father figure of the group obviously - Actually considered adopting Rory and Gaz (Mainly Rory) - If needed, he does have some adoption documents on hand - He had Laswell pull files outta nowhere and just chose mainly misfits - Laswell recommended most of 141's members - Enjoys Gaz and Rory's familial bickering to an extent (ex: playful arguing/bickering like siblings) - Reminds him that they aren't just war machines, they're human too. ------------------------------- SOAP ------------------------------- - Youngest of 141 - (In this AU, Ghost never died in the original MW games, only the main team (RIP roach) so the older members are Price, Gaz, Rory, and Ghost,) Roach was like a child to Rory and Ghost so once Soap filled his spot, naturally he would fill that role too. - Pranks Price - When the queen died he DID play "SCOTTLAND FOREVERRRRRRR!" and wear a kilt - He had a rigorous training drill after that - Makes horrendous dad jokes with Ghost - Accidentally called Rory "Mum" once ------------------------------- GAZ ------------------------------- - Rory's eldest and only cousin - Was Rory's Man of Honor once she and Ghost finally got married - Picks on her constantly to remind her that he loves her - The kinda guy to feel bad about something and stand there like🧍 - He's a teachers pet to price but once the Captain aint lookin, hes a complete bitch, specially to newbies. - Steals Rory's blankets for fun - "She ain't gon find this in a while" *witch cackling* ------------------------------- GHOST ------------------------------- - Was sad when him and Rory were split for a few years - He def asked Price who the surprise someone was when Rory was first joining - Lots of paperwork after he married - He really wants kids with Rory, but they never get the chance to do it or do they have the time to raise 'em - Gets updates about his father (WHO IS STILL ALIVE AND BREATHING IN PRISON PLS GOD KILL THIS OLD MAN) - Made sure Rory has a mask matching his ------------------------------- RORY ------------------------------- - Terrorizes Gaz when he's being a twat - Lots of paperwork after shes married too - When working with Graves, she has almost bashed his skull in numerous times - Cant wait for her and Ghost's retirement, both of em are gonna have plenty of kids to make a new 141 unit just of em (lies she only wants two) - Get's the rare once a year updates on her own father - Call's Price, "Dad" sometimes - Rarely makes breakfast for all of them -------------------------------

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tavtarnish · 1 year

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Fuck you, Price calls Soap 'junior'

like John Jr.

#THATS HIS OTHER SON!#Father price #cod price #captain price #captain john price #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #john 'soap' mactavish #cod soap #cod #cod:mw2 #cod: mwii #soap probably thinks its about his age at first #and is like 'im not even that young old man' but jokingly

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mactavishenjoyer · 18 days

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(wedding planning)

Soap:"your dad? Duh."

Ghost:"He's dead."

Soap:"Oh my fucking god he Is literally right there. I don't care if Price and you got in a fight he's still your dad and I want him in our wedding."

Price:"I- I'm not his dad?"

Soap:

Gaz:"Bullshit."

Roach:"Biggest damn lie I've heard all month."

Soap:"Womp Womp, you're not getting out of the wedding."

#idk something about price acting like a father to ghost so everyone actually thinks he's his dad #call of duty #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #incorrect cod quotes #incorrect quotes #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #soap mactavish #ghoap #kyle gaz garrick #john price #john price cod

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moongreenlight · 6 months

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Have you ever seen that corny ass skit where it’s the girl talking to her husband asking him to fix things and he says “I’m not a plumber” “I’m not a carpenter” bla bla bla and then one day he comes home and the girl’s like “oh yeah I had the neighbor come over to fix the things you wouldn’t” and the neighbor says she can either bake him a cake or sleep with him as payment so the husband asks “so what kind of cake did you bake him?” And the girl says “I’m not a baker?”

Very much Neighbor!Price x stay-at-home-mom!reader coded :)

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

Neighbor!Price who’s found a quiet little cul-de-sac to settle in when he’s got some time off. It’s a little neighborhood, mostly older people who’re thrilled to have a man like him around to help bring out bins and offer to mow their lawns or rake their leaves or shovel their drives when he’s around.

But somehow he’s found the only other younger family in the area living directly next to him. Parents are a few years his junior, and they’ve got two young kids. He assumes the boy, the older one, is early elementary age- sees you herding him into the car in the morning with a pack lunch and a backpack that’s nearly the same size as he is to and from the house in the morning and afternoon. And the girl, the younger, must be in pre-k, because she’s only out for half the day and doesn’t get the same pack lunch her brother gets.

He’s gotten to know you pretty well. When he’s around, the two of you will chat while you’re tending your garden and he’s working in his garage carrying out some odd project or another. He thinks you’re sweet. Likes the way you wear overalls with a little top when you’re planting flowers in the beds out front. How when you bend over or stand at the right angle he can imagine you’re not wearing a top at all.

He hates your husband. He’s crass and rude and never waves hello to any of the neighbors- odd for such a friendly little community. Leaves for work early and comes home late and leaves you to fend for yourself all day. Doesn’t know how to interact with you or your kids. And Price is almost certain he doesn’t fuck you the way you deserve to be fucked because his bedroom window looks over your living room and he’s caught you on the couch with your hand down your pants more times than could have been coincidence.

He’s known to be the neighborhood handyman. Got a little workshop set up in his garage and a general knowledge about nearly everything, so it’s not uncommon that he gets a knock on the door a few times a week. Usually it’s some of the older neighbors popping over to see if he can fix their TVs or help their grandkids connect to the Wi-Fi, but it’s a pleasant surprise when you turn up on his porch mid-morning.

You’re scrunching the ends of your soaking wet hair in a towel. Apologizing as soon as you hear him turn the deadbolt. Feverishly going on about how you must have blown a circuit in the bathroom trying to dry your hair and you’d usually be able to manage but your husband shoved a bookshelf in front of the breaker and you can’t get through to it.

He’s sweet about it. Always is, but especially for you. Follows you over to your place and promises you no less than ten times that it’s really no trouble. He’s happy to help. It’s a quick fix, but he drags it out as long as he can. Insists on following you up and down the stairs from the basement to the top floor twice to make sure everything’s working properly.

He notices that the bathroom door sticks and that the fire alarm in the hallway is chirping from a low battery. You apologize for the toys in the living room and the clean laundry pile on the couch and the state of your house. Say that your husband is racking up a hefty to-do list with a small laugh that’s just a bit too forced.

He’s thrilled to tell you that he’s got some free time later in the week and says he’ll come over if only to help out your husband. Makes some backhanded remark about how your husband is clearly a busy lad. You refuse- of course- sweet thing that you are, but he turns up the next day after you’ve taken your kids to school anyway.

He tails you up the drive so there’s no way you can shut him out. Shushes you when you try to apologize for one reason or another and takes off to fix not only the sticky bathroom door and the fire alarm batteries, but also the dripping kitchen faucet and the garbage disposal that’s been broken for months.

You try to stay clear of whatever room he’s working in, chirping short responses to whatever nonsense question he asked in an attempt to lure you over. It was only when he was about to head out and he saw you leaning on the dryer to keep it shut that he saw his golden opportunity.

You were clearly trying to hide it, but even with a small load of clothes in, it sounded like you’d thrown a pair of boots into a tin garbage pail and shook it hard as you could. You tried to shoo him off, but he wasn’t having any of it.

There’s enough skirting around the subject to give you chance to turn down his advances, but when he realizes you’re not outright telling him to go fuck himself, he’s essentially taking it as a challenge to see if he can’t push you to that point.

Hoists you up on the still clanging machine and pushes between your legs on the weak pretense of needing you there to keep the door shut while he works. The machine shook the straps of your top down off your shoulders and made him acutely aware of the fact that you hadn’t had the time to put on a bra yet. It made his pants near painfully tight on the crotch.

He’d try and make idle chat. Your kids and plans for the day, but it’s entirely too hard for him to focus on anything other than the way your thighs are pressing together as the dry cycle started to bang the machine around more. He makes a light comment about how he’s not sure how you get anything done around the house with the dryer in this state. Your laugh is breathy.

And when he leans over you to reach to the back of the machine, he can feel the way your soft panting breaths fan his neck. Confirms his suspicions.

“Alright?”

You’re chewing the inside of your lip while you nod. Clearly starved for stimulation if all it takes is a dry cycle to get you off. Poor thing.

It’s stuffy in the laundry room. Adds to the appeal. Makes your shorts ride up and stick to your legs. Your thighs are dewy and glide together when you shift under his gaze.

“You sure, doll?”

The two of you are almost nose-to-nose. You’re leaned back, caged in by his big arms that look even bigger in his almost obscenely tight shirt. He’s smiling. Letting his eyes wander to your collarbones. The way your throat bobbed when you swallowed.

Before you could choke out your answer, the dryer stopped. Chimed the alert and slowly stilled. You took a shaky breath and nodded once more, looking like you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed or relieved. He backed off, stretched out his hand to help you down.

You lead him to the kitchen. Ask if you can get him anything. Tea or food. He declines. You say something about stopping to get cash when you’re out picking up your daughter in a couple hours. He declines again.

“John, really, I appreciate your help. You have to let me get you back.”

You’re filling the kettle with water anyway, leaned just slightly over the sink. He knows it’s impolite to stare, but he’s never had very good manners when it came to things like that.

“Bake me a cake or somethin’, then. Sleep with me. Won’t take your money, though.”

You whirl around and end up sloshing some water down your front. Doesn’t seem to phase you. Your eyebrows are damn near at your hairline.

“I don’t know if that’s appropriate, considering…”

He snorts a soft laugh. It’s kind- not at all suggestive. Like he’s playing off a clever joke.

“What? Baking me a cake?”

You purse your lips and set the kettle on the stove.

“Never been a very good baker.”

He about hurdles the kitchen island like he’s running track.

“That right?”

You make a thoughtful sound before clicking on the burner. He can see you biting back a smile. You finally turn to face him. Leaned back on your hands with your head cocked slightly to the side.

“I just don’t know that it would be appropriate given our- my- situation.”

It’s his turn to hum and nod. Take a few steps forward, slow and slinky like a predator stalking toward its prey.

“Sure.”

You chew your bottom lip. Try to find some resolve in fussing with your wedding ring. It’s horrible. Small. He can’t help but think about how he’d be able to get you a much better one. He takes a few more steps forward.

“It’s complicated, John.”

Your voice is mousy now.

“I know.”

A few more steps forward and he’s back nose-to-nose with you. Pinning you against the counter.

“I just-“

“Then tell me to go home.”

The button of his jeans grazes your groin and sends sparks up your spine. You recoil slightly, but he’s got his massive hands on your wrists to keep you in place.

“My husb-“

“Don’t. S’not what I said. Tell me to go home. Tell me to go home, and I’ll leave. S’easy as that.”

The coarse hair of his beard brushes along your jaw. Visible goosebumps rise all the way up your neck and down your arms.

“John, he-“

A throaty growl from him.

“He’s not getting a lick of you.”

And then somehow he’s got you on your back on the couch. Shoved off the pile of laundry and pushed you down. His eyes are near pitch black and hungry. Ravenous. He tears off your shorts. Doesn’t wait for you to hoist your hips, just yanks so hard that you’re a little worried you’ll get thrown off the couch with them.

He is wretched. Planting wet kisses from the inside of your knee all the way up to your sex frustratingly slow. Big hands splayed over your hips to keep you from bucking up into his mouth. He’s got this maddeningly smug smile on his face like he’s waiting for the perfect moment to say I told you so. Like he knew this was going to happen from the start, you were just too stupid to see.

Your underwear is embarrassingly wet from your little go on the dryer. Your pussy puffy and sensitive underneath. You whine when he kisses over the damp spot. Laves his tongue over your folds without pulling them to the side. He makes some comment about the state of you that borders on snarky, but you choose to ignore it.

When he finally does rid you of your panties, there’s a moment of clarity where you realize what you’re doing. You push up on your elbows and try to roll out from under him, but he gives your clit a mean slap that forces you back onto the couch and ends your protest. Sends you to that liminal, clouded headspace where all you can focus on is how desperately you need to come.

It’s clear he’s savoring the moment. Running the point of his tongue through your folds. Teasing at your hole. Artfully swirling around your clit, but never close enough to give you the friction you’re so desperately craving. Planting hot, wet kisses on your inner thighs. Leaves a few love bites in his wake like he’s boasting; so certain your husband wouldn’t get close enough to notice that he had no problem decorating you as he pleased.

You’re a mess. Being taken apart stitch by stitch. Panting and whining and begging for more. Your orgasm is coiling tight under your belly without him having to do much. Any other time you’d have felt a little pathetic, but you were too preoccupied to care now.

He finally brings his hands up and you think he’s about to stuff you full, but he only lets his fingers drag slowly along your sensitive sex. Collects some of your arousal and pulls it up toward your naval. Watches the goosebumps form under his touch.

He rucks your shirt up with his free hand and immediately wraps his lips around your pebbled nipples. Tongues at them. Lets his teeth graze teasingly over them. And whatever one he’s not got currently in his mouth, he’s working his fingers over. Pinching and flicking until you’re teary eyed and squirming under him.

And then finally, fucking finally, he ducks back down and fixes his mouth on your clit. Sucks gently on the swollen bud for just a moment and then companies his mouth with two fingers bullying their way inside you.

The stretch is almost uncomfortable in its suddenness, but you quickly get used to it. The pleasure is blinding. Forces you to throw your head back against the cushion and screw your eyes tightly shut. A string of high, needy moans float through your gaped lips.

He’s sweet, Jesus, is he. Hums and groans with his mouth still on your bundle of nerves. Pulls away just enough to tell you how pretty your pussy is taking him before going back to work on your sensitive clit. You want to scream. You think you may actually come entirely undone on this couch if he doesn’t stop.

And then your orgasm coils so tightly within you that it explodes outward. Tears through you and leaves every square inch of your skin sizzling. He doesn’t let up. Pins you down by the stomach with his forearm and continues down his warpath. The sounds his fingers make when they sink into you are so pornographic that it makes your face hot.

You eventually find it in you to warble out something that sounded like please, too much. And he pulled off, still with that smug grin pulling his lips now surrounded by glistening slick caught in the hair of his beard.

He gives you one last kiss. Lewd and wet and so searing hot you’re worried it will actually blister the sensitive flesh of your cunt. He’ll sit back on his haunches and fuss with the button and zipper of his jeans before saying something horrible and cheeky like

“C’mon, doll. Thought you were set on payin’ me back.”

#he sees a family with a present but shitty father and says ‘it’s free real estate’ I hate him #moongreenlight #moongreenlightwrites #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #141 headcanons #captain price smut #captain john price smut #captain john price x reader #captain john price #captain price #price cod #john price #cod price #141 x reader #x reader

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ilovemesomevincentprice · 1 year

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From Vincent Price's radio show, "The Saint" circa 1950. This man is a true legend. I adore him.

Ladies and gentlemen, poison doesn’t always come in bottles. And it isn’t always marked with the skull and crossbones of danger. Poison can take the form of words and phrases and acts: the venom of racial and religious hatred. Here in the United States, perhaps more than ever before, we must learn to recognize the poison of prejudice and to discover the antidote to its dangerous effects. Evidences of racial and religious hatred in our country place a potent weapon in the hands of our enemies, providing them with the ammunition of criticism. Moreover, group hatred menaces the entire fabric of democratic life. As for the antidote: you can fight prejudice, first by recognizing it for what it is, and second by actively accepting or rejecting people on their individual worth, and by speaking up against prejudice and for understanding. Remember, freedom and prejudice can’t exist side by side. If you choose freedom, fight prejudice.

#vincent price #radio show #the saint #1950s #a true icon #bicon #i love this man #not only is he a wonderful actor...#or a gorgeous man #or a devoted father #hes an absolute beautiful human being #horror #old horror movies #vintage #movie #actor

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hillerska-official · 11 months

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I'm fully obsessed with how willing some people are to take things at face value. I did some reading to find out the best star trek TOS novels and on so many of them (interestingly enough it's usually for the ones written by women, but I digress), people leave bad reviews specifically with the same complaint, time and again. "Spock is too emotional in this. Spock is purely logical you can't write him with emotions like this." And every time i read that complaint i am fully fucking flummoxed, because of COURSE Spock is emotional, what the hell are these people talking about. Spock is shown over and over again in the show to be a deeply emotional person. This is something he vehemently denies, granted, but it is obviously intended to be clear to the viewer that he is LYING when he denies having emotions. Jim and Bones have very specific Looks reserved for when he tells this lie.

There is a very specific reason Spock tells that particular lie, of course. A pretty emotion-based one at that. Spock has a very complicated relationship with his parents and with his human versus his Vulcan culture. Growing up on Vulcan of course Spock wanted to be less human, and be more like his peers. But the fact is that even Vulcans are not naturally emotionless/logical, and they actually have very specific historical reasons for so deeply valuing logic over emotion. So it is absolutely baffling to me to see people just take what Spock tells us about himself entirely as truth. Spock is a bitch and a liar (affectionate) and he is so deeply human in so many ways. That's why people enjoy his character in the first place, imo.

#i mentioned this to my dad #and i love my dad i mean no shade to him but the man is not an analytical person by any definition #he watches tv and its in one ear and out the other. the man is the antithesis of fandom #but anyways even that guy was like 'yeah obviously spock is emotional'#like if your take is so superficially face value that my father recognizes it as dumb?#what show did u even watch #ANYWAYS #i will be over here reading the price of the phoenix and thinking about when spock allows himself to put his guard down #not yr #star trek #star trek tos #spock #prince queuehelm

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thatssroughbuddy · 6 months

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but your honor he’s my favorite fucked up and tortured guy who maybe looks a little worse for wear but has a heart of gold despite it all

#curious to know who’s blorbos end up in the tags #gaang #avatar #avatar the last airbender #atla #zuko #price zuko #midnight mass #monsignor pruitt #father paul hill

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tanked-up · 5 months

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Soap: We’ve all got issues

Gaz: Sum got daddy issues

Soap sitting on top of Price hugging his waist: What makes you say that

(Gaz sighs and stares at Ghost who’s besides Soap watching everything unfold)

Ghost muttering while holding his composture: That should be me

#that should be him #ghostsoap #call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #cod modern warfare #ghost mw2 #simon riley #john price #gaz mw2 #cod meme #incorrect cod quotes #incorrect quotations #captain price #father john price #pricesoap #priceghost

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powderrr · 1 month

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He forgot again that he was wearing a mask and not a balaclava, lol.

Он снова забыл, что на нём маска, а не балаклава, лол.

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allay-j11no · 12 days

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𝚄𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚖 𝙽𝚎 𝙸𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚖 𝙽𝚞𝚖𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚖 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚖

𝓘𝓯 𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓘 𝓱𝓪𝓭 𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓼𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓱𝓲𝓶. . .

this is a lil drabble about my OC's backstory, hope you enjoy! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ summer in Manchester was always beautiful. warm. calm. You always had your friends to share it with, no matter how stupid they may be, you always had your older brother to look after you is mum, dad, and your eldest brother said they were busy, that you were being a baby. . . "Rory...you got into a scrap with the neighbor boys again?" "Si n'done nothin' to em' yet they always pick on em'..." "Simon's a big boy, he can handle himself...bet Adam and Ezra were surprised to be beat by a wee lil lass like you huh?" Timothy never got mad. he saw your worth. he saw what you could do. he encouraged this, encouraged you to stand up for yourself. It was no surprise to him when Simon suddenly jumped at the chance to join the military, and you joined in after. Simon and you served together for a bit before he was accepted to the special air service. You joined the marines. "You joined the Military?" Maxim stated, the elder brother who despised your existence. "Marines dipshit." "Jarheads, dumbasses!" he snapped at you. "at least I don't get a full ride from our uncle!" 3 summers ago, you figured out your uncle was playing your father, and that your father has an identical twin. Michael. You met your father the day you graduated basic, one summer after the big reveal, Samuel. Maxim was your asshole uncles golden boy, you and Tim were frowned upon for even being related to him. Both results of drunken hook ups with the same woman. Samuel loved you and Tim dearly, During one of your returns to home, he took you to his club in America. "How's...everything been Rory?" "I got promoted to 2nd Lieutenant last week" You shared everything with him, glad to have your father back three years after this, you were called in by someone Laswell mentioned you to. John Price, you weren't surprised, Laswell looked out for you like you were her own spawn, she was aware of your lack of a mother figure, she filled that role in. "Rory Elizabeth Wright, More known as Wraith, your skillset is for stealth missions, master of infiltration missions, biological mother was Russian, Mila Wright, formally Mila Zhdan. From her you learned to speak Russian, her mother-tong. Biological father was a wealthy Brit, something he and his sibling inherited from their father." you were being asked to join 141. A joint multi-national special operations task force and counter-terrorism military unit, you do the dirty work others don't, your aren't complaining, over the years of being in it, 141 became a dysfunctional family, what made it better to you is, you found Simon. He was better known as Ghost now, but he never complained when you called him Simon, but that was when it was just the two of you.

2216 words, this is a small drabble, if any of you wants me to go into detail about each of the events, I gladly will! what I was doing with the bold Italics was something similar to how Jake Sully narrated Avatar, but made it seem like it was YOU who was telling the story, with any other drabble/story it'll be in Rory's POV

#cod mw2 #cod original character #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #john soap mactavish #john price #price #kate laswell #laswell mw2 #laswell cod #call of duty laswell #Callsign: Wraith #Father price #ghost x oc #drabble #oc backstory #oc brainrot

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mindie-arts · 7 months

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💰🧢‼️

#they’re so father son #this one is for the price and gaz enjoyers #call of duty #captain price #gaz #cod captain john price #captain john price #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #cod mw2 #artists on tumblr #cod fanart

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ghostlywhiskey · 6 months

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Girl dad!Price is giving me so many thoughts today!! How did he react when he found out #4 was a girl? Would he have kept going for a girl if she were a boy? She’s definitely a daddy’s girl and has him wrapped around her little fingers 🥹

god i love discussing dad!price. so very much. he is my favorite and i love him and he's everything to me!!

wanting to be completely sure there was no mistaking the gender during the ultrasound, you waited until your monthly check up at the fifth month mark. your head tilted to the side to watch the screen, the transducer gliding around your gel coated stomach. the skin around your nails gnawed at while you anxiously wait for the doctor to say something. after three boys you had an idea of what the ultrasound would look like, and considering you felt different this time around, part of you couldn't help but let your mind wander at the possibility it could a girl.

"i've seen you with three boys and i know you well enough to guess, but," your doctor looks at you, a smile on her face. "are we letting it be a surprise or is your husband expecting you to report back."

"report back." you simply reply, waiting for her to confirm what you think you already know.

and when you're on facetime later that night with john after bringing him to say goodnight to each of the boys in their beds, you finally have the chance to lay down on your bed. without thinking, your body gravitating to his side of the bed as you cuddle under the sheets on your side.

"how's my favorite girl?" the question making you smile not for usual reasons, but because you knew you'd share the title in a few short months.

"mhm," you hum, a small yawn escaping your lips as you quickly tap through your phone to locate the ultrasound photo. sending it, you wait for the word 'delivered' to appear under your message before responding. "she's doing well. doctor said she's smaller than her brothers were at this point, but isn't worried."

"smaller than.." his words trailing as you watch his facial expression change, indicating he opened your messages. "i'll be fuckin' damned." the smile on price's face tugging up all the way, lines forming by his eyes. "my girl is havin' a girl." he chuckles softly, you notice tears forming as he holds the phone close to his face, getting a better look at the ultrasound as he zooms in.

and when she's a few months old, it's price who she clings to and cries for when she can't be soothed. the newborn hysterical in your tired arms as you beg for her to calm down, soft kisses against the side of her head. price's feet trot down the hallway when you are taking longer than normal, giving you a kiss on the cheek as he takes her from your hold. "get some rest," he murmurs, the newborn latching to him like a magnet. "i got her."

that's when you learned quickly she was going to be a daddy's girl. the two of them the next morning on the couch, the little girl laying face down with her check pressed against his chest and pacifier on the verge of falling out. one of price's hands on her back while the other rests on her diaper covered bum to keep her secured in place. his own snores filling the living room, making you wonder how the poor child is even able to sleep, but nonetheless, just glad she managed to sleep through the night after he took her.

#john price #john price fluff #john price x reader #nic responses #nic talks price #please i love him #can he be the father of my children </3 #dad!price #gw sfw price

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cod-dump · 8 months

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Teen!Gaz: *watching teen!Ghost nervously talk to teen!Soap while fidgeting and blushing*

Teen!Gaz: Fucking weirdo failing to flirt with my best mate… god he’s pathetic

(Later that same day)

Teen!Soap: Kyle… I think I like your brother

Teen!Gaz: Hurt him and I’ll stab you with my pick comb

Teen!Soap:

Teen!Gaz: I’ll let your imagination tell you wear I’ll stab you

#he is his father’s son after all #call of duty #cod mwii #modern warfare ii #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #incorrect quotes #ghostsoap #soapghost #teen!ghost au #troubled teen!ghost and exhausted adoptive dad!price #scheduled

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miguel-owhora · 4 months

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thinking about price taking you in as a stray and letting you join 141. at first, god, you're aggressive and defensive, baring your teeth at them and snapping if they get too close. unlike the other squads, they don't judge you, they don't get angry with bow much you react. they're patient and willing to work with you, because they were once like you.

you react with violence and aggression, with a type of reaction that only former fighting dogs have, because that's what you were taught. ghost doesn't speak much with you and instead fills the silence with his presence. he'll stand in front of doorways and block you from leaving, forcing you to get used to his presence, holding eye contact even as you glare at him and snap his way, because no, [name], this isn't how we do things here. i was once like you. you'll come around to see that we only bite at our enemies, not our family. he's forcing your instincts to calm down, forcing your mind to rewire itself and to recognize that he's not a threat. only does he leave when you don't react when he moves a little too fast.

soap follows you and chatters away with you, and every growl and snap and flash of your eyes is just met with him blabbering away. it's his way of bonding with you, of also forcing you to get used to him. it throws you off when he just laughs when you snarl his direction and speaks his scottish tongue, his accent thick and heavy and leaving you confused. he's friendly and bubbly, if a bastard, and goes quiet when you don't glare his way whenever he speaks a little too fast and a little too loud.

gaz is a mixture of both. sometimes he won't say anything, he'll force his way into your proximity and hold eye contact when you try to scare him away. or he'll let his voice be soothing and calm, and make conversation with you, even if you don't respond. sometimes he'll be repairing something or cleaning his weapons, and he'll make light conversation. he notices you're calmer when his voice is quiet and even, and how you focus on his hands. not fearfully, but more grounded. he makes note of this.

price is the only one who gets physical with you. he first notes how you react to certain things, how you flinch and snarl and lash out. then, he forced you to deal with them. he'll struggle with you and wrangle, unflinching even when you bite his forearms and kick at him. he's a captain for a reason. you might've been his most challenging one yet but nothing he can't break.

and break you does he. not maliciously, no, but rather, he breaks you out of your old mindset. a once fearful soldier burdened and haunted by his past, willingly seeks out his teammates.

you cling onto ghost and invade his personal space, forcing your way onto him and sleeping on his chest like an oversized cat whilst he scratches at your scalp. or blabbering with soap and having conversations and jokes that don't make sense to anyone, teasing ghost together until he throws you two a dirty look. or spending some quality time with gaz and sparring with him or even just having lunch together, mingling together on the couch like slime, content to be in each other's presence m, whether if you're talking or just quiet.

and price, oh price. you seek him out the most. he's your favorite. you're his favorite, especially when you pull his pants down and nurse his thick cock into your mouth. the captain isn't harsh with it, he's gentle and patient, gently scratching your scalp as a low groan slips out of his mouth, your mouth warm and wet. trained by the best, you're a pro at taking his cock, at licking at the vein trailing up his cock and making it jolt. oh how he smells so delicious.

#tldr #i just want price to call me his boy #he's the biggest father out there #wait actually #price miguel n peter b are the biggest fathers #i lobe them

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