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erensonly · 2 months

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thinking about sweet data analyst!reader being quiet as a mouse always scaring the boys. scares them so much they think abt getting her a bell. lets get into some backstory bc this may be a mini series 😈

contains: extreme fluff, ooc writing, love is used as a pet name, no pronouns used, references to DV pls read at your own discretion.

you were the new data analyst for the 141. before, you only worked with Kate, gathering and analyzing data for her but she thought you would be so much more helpful to the task force since their old analyst had retired. you were hesitant at first, not really wanting to be around a group of men. why should you leave your comfort zone?

this did not work with laswell. she had taken you in after you stumbled to the gates of the base, attempting to stop crying to give them an explanation and sporting bruises on your face and hands. luckily she had been there to meet with john when she had heard the guards complaining about a crying woman refusing to leave. she had helped you in more than one way. even allowing you to stay with her until you could find a job and move by yourself.

when she had found out you knew your way around computers, her face lit up like a christmas tree, telling you she had the perfect job for you. you were hesitant to take the job, knowing the work she did involved the military, you didn't know if you wanted to take the job. you had tried to convince her that it was fine, but once laswell has her mind made up, that's it.

thats how you ended up here, wanting oreos. you didn't mean to scare them at first. they were a little scary and you wanted nothing to do with them at first.

you just wanted the oreos but ghost was in the way, facing the opposite way with his head in his phone. you stood there awkwardly at first,not wanting to ask the big man to move but you really wanted those cookies. you stand there for a bit debating if you'll wait for him to leave the room or grow some balls and just ask him to move. you decided on doing neither.

you made your way towards him as quickly as you could; the plan was to just reach up and grab the chocolate cookies so you could go back to your desk before ghost could say anything. trying to get closer to the cabinet, you find yourself pushed up against the counter, a large hand wrapped around your wrist. when he realized it was you, he let you go with a big sigh. "scared the shit out of me. when did you get in here?"

"uh.. not too long ago." that was all you could muster, the man was too intimidating. you awkwardly shuffled towards the cabinet with the cookies and reached up to get them. mission accomplished, you thought to yourself. slithering back to your desk, you leave ghost stunned and only able to mutter a quick "bloody hell" before going back to his phone.

----

the next time you interact with the 141 outside of working it's with gaz. from the small conversations you had, he seemed very nice with a kind smile and calming aura. this time you were trying to make your way to price's office to give him a manila folder with the information he requested. you had walked to the door but heard talking, maybe he was busy. you decided that you would wait to give him the folder so you wouldn't have to speak to whoever was in the office.

it felt like time was going so slow and by the time the person had walked out, you were leaning against the corner of the wall, head against the wall in a way that you had have to almost round the corner to be able to see you. you looked up, and the man look like he just had a heart attack. clutching his chest like he was clutching his pearls and purse and breathing heavily. "Jesus, love,gotta say something. have you been waiting out here long? you could've just came in, y'know?" all the questions were becoming overwhelming when you just gripped his lips to silence him.

it took his look of surprise and a bit of thought to realize what you did. you had just grabbed the lips of a soldier. not just any soldier but a heavily decorated soldier who was apart of The john price's task force. he could kill you faster than you can say you're sorry. "oh my god, i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to, you just kept talking and i didnt know what to do. please don't kill me." you had finished your mini rant only to see him doubled over in laughter. he was in tears.

"did you just silence me?" he asked between laughs. you didn't understand what the hell was funny, this man is going to kill you. while he was still laughing and trying to get soap on the phone, you tiptoed into price's office to give him the folder, telling him that if he found you dead on base it was gaz before scurrying out of his office. john was left looking confused because he had just heard kyle laughing a few seconds ago.

----

next was soap. sweet, sweet soap. he genuinely did his best to welcome you into their group, but you didn't really seem interested. he eventually just took any interaction you two had and replayed it in his head over and over again. you were just so sweet, how could he not? you still got lost on base sometimes since everything was one monotone grey and everything looked the same. and it was just your luck that the only people around were new recruits and other people you never spoke to. turning, you see soap heading toward the mess hall.

when you sped up to catch him, he's surprised. he even did that cartoon cat jump they do before running off. he started saying something in a language you don't understand when you cut him off. "not sure what you're saying but i agree. anyway, where's the gym? i need to ask ghost a question." he was shocked to see you turn around and wait for him to lead the way. he couldn't help the smile that came across his face. such a hasty girl; you always said everything you needed to say as fast as you could before turning away, giving him a look at allat movement back there.

he laughed again before helping you find ghost. and you still don't get why these men find you so funny. there is nothing funny about them being so scary.

----

lastly, we got my husband john. he was made aware of your situation and why you acted the way you did before you started working under him. he couldn't help but think you were a sweet, hard working little thing. never with much to say, and so skittish. he may have told you that he doesn't know how to access the files on his computer just so he can see you come to his office with a folder. is it a crime to want to see such a sweet face?

john had told you he would like to see you after debriefing and that he would just let you know. but you had already finished your work of the day an you spent your free time playing whatever games you could access on your computer. you eventually started to feel restless so you decided to sit in price's office until he got there. there was a couch in a corner of the room, worn but comfortable. you could imagine the boys laying on the couch talking mindlessly to john.

you had sunken into the corner of the couch, curling up in a way that you would have to step completely into the office to see you sitting there. it had been a good 10 minutes of sitting in silence before you heard footsteps approaching the door. you couldn't hear exactly what was being said, but it sounded like john was on the phone. he, not long after, walked into the room, holding his phone between his shoulder and ear with a stack of folders in his hands.

"-exactly. yeah i'll be on it right away. bye." and as he's turning around, you're sitting up straighter and he yells. and i mean one of those old people, "help i've fallen" type of yelps; and he drops his files on the floor. you just give him a blank stare.

"good God. when did you get in here?" you just shrug, brushing over the question. "what was it that you needed from me sir?" that's when he knew, you were going to be the death of the 141. literally.

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cookiepie111 · 4 months

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Hi, I hope this doesn’t sound too rude or pushy, but can you do one of those winter mood board thingys like ghost’s and konig’s but for Gaz and / or Horangi x black! reader? I like to see that kind of stuff, you make it look really cute ! (´∀`)

*+:��.｡Snow date with gaz x black reader｡.｡:+* 　　

He's about to ruin an hour of makeup with a single snowball

#gaz x black reader #Kyle garrick x black reader #cod x black reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #moodboard

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lxvvie · 3 months

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Simps 'R Us, Between the Sheets edition: Your faves and the wholesome and funny things you two get up to in bed, part I.

Capt. John Price - When he's half asleep and about to snore loud enough to wake the dead (Price vehemently denies this), you like to have random conversations with him because you know questions you ask will do one of two things: elicit a nonsensical answer from the Cap'n or... wake him up from his sleep altogether.

Gaz - Is curling up into himself because you're the big spoon, you're running your hands over his body because he's highkey lowkey ticklish, and your face is buried in his neck because... he's highkey lowkey ticklish. "Darling, please—" Gaz manages to gasp out between... wait, are you giggling, Garrick?

Soap - Your darling golden retriever chaotic good boyfriend loves... to sleep naked. You're not complaining, though, especially because he loves it when you lay on him. You've made a home for yourself between his thighs; his stomach is your pillow, and he usually has a hand rubbing your head. Helps him to relax, y'know, bonnie? And whenever you don't lay on him, it's an affront to Johnny's... everything. His heart is broken. His soul is crushed. You're too far away from him (even though you're still right under him). How could you do this to him? He can't live like this. No other stud muffin can offer you what he can, beautiful. But no really, bonnie, he needs you on top of him like... yesterday.

Ghost - You really like his body. Like... really like his body. You blow raspberries on his stomach, you smack his ass, you talk about his eyelashes—scratch that, you love his body. To you, every scar tells a story, and you've asked him plenty of times to talk about them. And then you did the unthinkable that had Simon wanting to disappear into the fucking blankets—"Si-bear, I didn't know you had a mole on your inner thigh!" Bloody fucking hell, he'll never hear the end of this. And then you kissed it and Ghost's face had never felt so bloody hot before. Christ, you'll be the death of him, sweetheart.

Roach - Nothing but the most sickeningly saccharine stuff to ever stuff happens with Roach. A poke-fest, a kiss-fest, a tickle-fest, you name it, it happens. Roach loves to sleep with his face buried in your chest and arms wound tight around you. Always. You rubbing his head soothes him to sleep as well.

Alex - You're also the big spoon here, too. You're busy talking about conspiracy theories you believe the government is/was involved in and Alex is entertaining you ("That so, Boss?"). In actuality, his eyes are comically wide because the truth is oftentimes stranger than fiction and you may or may not be walking a little heavy there, Boss.

Alejandro - Is the big spoon to your little spoon in bed no matter what you're doing. Loves to intertwine your legs together, too. Alejo murmurs how much he loves you in your ear and kisses the top of your head before telling you good night.

Rudy - Sometimes when he's asleep, you'll whisper "Rodolfo" in his ear which causes Rudy to shoot up, eyes comically wide because the only time someone calls him by his full government name is when he gets into shit but it wasn't him this time, it was that idiot Alvarez— "Didn't get to tell you good night and I love you, Rudy, so... good night and I love you, Rudy." Oh. Oh. Ha. Real funny.

Farah - A cuddle bunny through and through. She loves laying up under you, her head resting on your shoulder or under your chin, or her face in the crook of your neck. She wants to hear you as you sleep. She wants to feel the gentle rise and fall of your chest or the resonances as you speak. Farah simply can't get enough of you.

Keegan - It's really you teasing him because Keegan isn't one to really get flustered or deviate from his infamously neutral expression. Much. Until you came along. You two are relaxing in bed and you're the one randomly calling out, "Hey, Kee-Kee," to which Keegan makes the most surprised and disgusted face in response and you're wheezing.

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merowkittie · 2 months

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Poly!141 x bratty reader :( (could also be read individually <3)

You’re so bratty that it really turns them on and simultaneously annoys them at the same time..

Gaz has developed the most patience with you, he tries to get you out of your punishments sometimes and other times lets you get away with certain things.. but when he does that both of you get punished :( but it’s ok, he’s holding your hand and whispering praises to you through it <3 “S’ok, Sweet girl.. next time be a good girl, ok?”

Price? “Oh no no no, sweetheart why are you crying?” “You’re the one who did it.” “Maybe after this you won’t do that again, yea?” He’s so mean about it.. but he makes the best love to you after. He’ll kiss over the hand prints he left on your ass don’t worry sweets..

Soap is much like Gaz but a soft mix of Price. He will definitely let you get away with being bratty, it turns him on so so much to see their girl act out. But when you’re taking it far and pushing your limits with him? He’s quick to deny you from everything you want.. he’s fucking you and you want to cum? “Only good girls get to cum, baby.. ye know this.”

Ghost.. oh he’s the worst of them all when you’re bratty.. he’ll quickly pick you up and bend you over his knees.. still acting out? All of your toys are taken away, the other men know not to interact with you at this point.. so now you have to claw at Ghost for attention and he’s not giving you anything.. not even a bat of his eyelashes. If you try to get off by yourself? Oh sweetheart, you’re not getting touched for a couple of weeks.. :( “What a needy, baby.. y’know what you did. Stop pawing on me like a pup.”

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iifishizzleii · 17 days

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inspired by: this post.

you can’t tell me that soap wouldn’t date a gal who’s tall. he will ogle those legs for hours, adore the way you smile down at him like the sun shining through the clouds.

ghost loves a woman who cooks as much as she (but only as half as he) eats. you keep each other strong and healthy, and he gets to love on the softest parts of you.

there’s just something so beautiful about black women to price, especially the ones with accents and languages different than his that they can teach him.

and if a woman can physically keep up with him, gaz adores her. muscular arms, thick legs, you’re a greek statue carved from marble in his eyes and you’re glorious.

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vellichor-of-the-solivagant · 21 days

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"Presenting, Simon "Black Swan" Riley

I seriously have a love-hate relationship with CODM for this

THIS IS FUCKING FUNNY LMAO

This one is Soap

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hyperfixiation-station · 2 months

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Hi!!

I am totally obsessed with your fics!!! Your writing 🤌💕

I just wanted to request a fic where the reader is new to the task force but she's experienced and tough. Vibez similar to Ghost to elaborate she's more scary than Ghost cuz of her past maybe she was experimented on or trained brutally....

Reader is working hard to prove herself even if everyone knows she's the most lethal person. So one time she gets injured badly while protecting someone from the 141( probably Ghost 👉👈) and she wakes up has an emotional moment Ghost comes know about her Trauma . More like hurt/comfort....

Happy Writing 💝

Guilt-Tripped

CW: Mentions/references of kidnapping, torture, canon typical violenece Part 2, Part 3 Hiii Anon!! First off, thank you! Secondly, I am so, so, so sorry for how long this took😭 I did make this a two parter, the first part is kinda like backstoryish and the second part will be the actual story. I was gonna wait until I finished both to post but you have been waiting for way to long so I'll give you the first part now instead of waiting, again I am so sorry! I hope you like it :)) Summary: F!Reader was a part of a special program(LMK if you can guess what it is) and once she was released she joined the military.

WC: 1467 As always, I didn't proof read so lmk if there are any mistakes :3

Life had not been kind to you. Ripped from your family at a very young age, you had never known the type of love and safety a nurturing home could provide. Instead, you grew up in the confines of a Russian base, with cruel instructors and a dwindling group of girls as your only companions.

From the moment you could walk, you had been told you were a weapon. A lethal force to be honed and trained, nothing more than a tool for others to use to further their games. Brainwashed, tortured, and trained into submission, a perfect puppet. Both your brain and body were sculpted into absolute perfection, a rigorous process most people did not survive. By day, they trained to be a lethal force, an unstoppable, unnoticeable, killing machine. At night, you were handcuffed to your bed, listening to the screams of students who did not make the cut.(to this day you sleep handcuffed)

You watched, at first in horror, then with a sense of detachment, as your friendsrivals bit the dust, unable to keep up with what the program demanded of them. It got better as you got older, less girls died from their tasks. But in some ways it got worse. It was a competition now, a fight to see who would remain victorious, to see who would come out on top. It was not a place for friendship and comradery, and you learned that quickly.

You stopped trying to make friends with the other students when you were forced to shoot your best friend in the head after giving her some of your dinner when she was being punished. You were 8. And you stopped trying to even just be friendly with the other girls at 10 years old, when the instructor broke every bone in your hands after your bunkmate framed you for something you didn't do. To this day your hands are not the same, always hurting and forever scarred.

Your world was kill or be killed, and you'd be dammed if you didn't come out on top.

And come out on top you did. You graduated top of your class, a position you had fought and killed for, won through bloodshed and pain. If you had a conscience, it would have been screaming at you for the things you had done to get to the top(You laid awake every night consumed by guilt and grief)

The program was disbanded(re: destroyed) when you hit 18, just two weeks after your 'graduation'. You were given two options: Join the American military, or face a life sentence in prison.

You had a lifetime of sins to atone for, and knew there was only one way to even begin to ease your guilt. Two days later your background was sealed up and you were shipped off to boot camp.

And you excelled. This was nothing to you. What was a six mile run when you used to run until you passed out, then wake up and keep going? What was surviving on four hours of sleep when sleep deprivation had been the norm your whole life? What was any of this compared to what you had been forced to do everyday since you were five?

You scared your instructors. And the other recruits. And everyone else you came into contact with. And you were fine with that. You didn't like when people got close to you anyhow.

Love got you nowhere in the world. It was a lesson you learned hard and fast. You did not care for others, they did not care for you. And you liked it that way. Until you met the 141.

A woman named General Laswell came to you one day with a job offer. Well, not a job offer exactly, but more of a…transfer of positions. A small, (mostly)four-man team that she oversaw.

You had gotten disciplined for beating the ever-loving shit out of a recruit the week before, and Laswell had watched it all unfold. She went back to her office, read your full file, and decided you would make a good fit for John's team.

You took a look at your bunk, at the trunk that held zero worldly possessions, realized there is nothing for you here, and said yes.

Price had not wanted a new recruit, and told Laswell as much. She simply said he had a penchant for picking up strays and left your file on his desk. It took him a week to actually get curious enough to read it. A paper copy, the only one in existence that had your full, undisclosed background. He pretended he didn’t see her smug grin when he hit accept on your transfer application.

You had been trained since youth to fight and to kill, yes, but your true purpose was espionage. You were trained to study those around you, to lie, to mold yourself to the expectations of those around you. You excelled at fitting into your surroundings, at assimilating perfectly with your peers. It was all you were good for, in your opinion. So you asked Laswell for files on your new teammates. And she gave them to you. They were full of gaping holes and redacted information, but there was enough there for you to profile them.

Soap would be the most receptive to you. He most likely would also be the one to not give up in trying to get you to be open with them. Gaz would be receptive as well, but you know that your sealed background would put him on edge, Ghost, well…Ghost was a lot like you from what you could piece together. Yet another person who learned that the world was cruel and unforgiving, who had learned the lesson that love does nothing but hurt. And because he was like you, you knew he would trust you the least.

You felt a small pang in your chest when looking at this masked photo that you hadn’t felt in years. Not quite sadness, but…pity? No. It was different, it was sympathy. It weirded you out.

It was hard at first, joining the 141. You had court-mandated therapy you had had to attend, and you had slowly come to realize that some trust was good, necessary even, for life. You knew you wouldn’t be able to open yourself up to them, that you would never be able to feel the sense of brotherhood you had seen amongst other soldiers, but you wanted to try.

It was harder than you thought it would be. Hard joining men who already had comradery, who had a bond that had been forged with blood, sweat, and tears. men who weren't sure how to fit another person, much less a female, into their group.

As you suspected, Soap was the most receptive. He was fun, you thought. His Scottish accent and affinity for filling the silence made him a very pleasant conversationalist. You didn’t have to do any of the talking.

Gaz was wary of you, but did a good job of not showing it. As you suspected, he stopped inviting you out after you said ‘no thanks’ for the third time.

Ghost didn’t like you. You could see it in the slight tensing of his muscles when you walked in the room, the way his eyes pinched when you spoke.

It was a rough, rocky start, full of distrust and misunderstandings. Everything about you set his senses on high alert. They way you could sneak up on him completely silent, the way you could hold your own when you sparred with him, even the way you moved had his hair standing on end. It wasn’t until a mission that would have ended with Soap's death if you hadn’t risked your life to shove him out of the way that Ghost began to trust you.

And then he began to notice something else about you. And the more he noticed, the more concerned he grew. He noticed the way you threw yourself into battle, what little regard you held for your own life. He noticed how you never instigated conversation, never gave away the slightest bit of information that could be used against you. Noticed that you always wore gloves. In fact, he's never once seen your hands.

His constant observations of you had an unintended side effect. The longer he watched you, the more he realized you were a lot like him, the more he was drawn to you. And vice-versa.

You found yourself willfully seeking Ghost out, willingly sharing information with him. Nothing about your past, no, you would never tell anyone the things you had done. But little things, how you liked the food served this week, how your mission went, that your new pants were really itchy. And he told you things too. Told you really bad jokes, told you Soaps stupid Scottish saying of the week. And slowly you branched out, agreeing to go to the bar the next time Soap asked you, telling Gaz that you liked his new sunglasses.

It was nice, having people who looked at you like you meant something to them. Having people who didn’t know what you’d done, people who didn’t look at you with disgust and distrust. It was nice to have…friends.

So of course everything had to go downhill from there.

End scene :3 let me know what you think!!6 and be on the look out for pt.2, I hope you're ready for a buttload of angst >:) Also requests are open <3

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hunterbunter3000 · 1 year

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Gaz, sighing: I want someone.

141 Sweetheart: Romantically?

Gaz: Hope that was obvious.

141 Sweetheart, chuckling and getting up to walk away: Just go see some of the rookies. You're quite the lady killer over there!

Gaz: Hm. Good to know. But I don't want them.

Gaz, eyes following her figure: I want you.

Lil Bonus!

141 Sweetheart: Whatcha say, Gaz?

Embarrassed Gaz: NOTHING I SAID NOTHING

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wxnheart · 9 months

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On today's episode of My Simpin' Ass Friend Asks Horny Ass Questions, we're gonna talk about the post-coital tendencies and rituals of your faves. Smanging it, babes.

Capt. John Price - The old man's got it. Will always have it. Baby, he put it down and we love it for you; you always bask in the afterglow laying on top of Price, your head buried in the crook of his neck or on his chest, breathing in his scent. If it's the former, trust that he'll have a huge 'thank-you' hickey to show the world the next day.

Gaz - An awesome round of sex is usually followed by a nice, hot shower when you're with Gaz. You two are bathing each other and exchanging kisses. You'll retire to bed sated and squeaky clean. Not for long, though.

Ghost - Simon has to have his post-coital cigarette. Just coming down from that high, staring at the ceiling. Or some shit like that. Really, you two are just vibing in quiet contentment after he dicks you down something fierce. You also found out that if he has a particularly powerful orgasm, he'll chuckle uncontrollably. It's pretty deep and rich. It's just as endearing as it is surprising to you.

Soap - Your resident golden retriever gets the munchies after sex so he always has takeout on speed dial. Sex and some good food afterward? Hell yeah.

Alejandro - Loves to cover you in kisses after sex. Major cuddler energy. Loves skin-to-skin contact and cuddling because it keeps him in the present and not too worried about what comes after when he has to get out of bed and back to work. You know how to remedy that, however. Giddyup, Cowboy.

Rudy - Simply put, you make him the little spoon. Yep. Always.

König - Like Ghost, he, too, tends to laugh but it's ALWAYS after he has sex. And it's more like a giggle than anything. It's a mixture of endorphins and the idea that he actually has sex. Yes, König, you actually fuck. The first time you heard it, he was so mortified that if he could become one with the covers, he would. You thought it so adorable and now you two have giggle fits interspersed with kisses as you're curled together in bed.

Horangi - Lmao. By post-coital routine, you mean more sex, right?

Graves - He's an interesting fellow. Likes the feel of the air on his body as he basks in the after-sex glow which is why he's in no hurry to cover up. Usually hits you with a one-liner like "Tired so soon, darlin'?" with a smirk and wink. He'll give you time to get some water and cool down. Just say the word and it's on to round two, baby.

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miwsolovely · 2 months

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—SHAMEFUL

pairing: task force 141 x fem!black!reader

series masterlist taglist next

summary: Your mom asks for a favor.

contains: mentions and talks of running away, reader being kept in the dark for a second, talks of revenge, talks of past trauma, price is a meany, ghost is ghost, reader has a tiny mental breakdown, dissociation

wc: 4.1k

a/n: love this first chapter

a/n 2: listened to ghost in the machine by sza while writing this (i would recommend listening to it while reading !)

Outside, the clouds were dark and gray. Casting a veil over the sun. Hiding light from this part of town. Mimicking your feelings, dark and sad and scared to hell.

Your back ached, carrying heavy boxes filled with memories from your last apartment, and the apartment before that, and the house before that.

The you from three years ago would’ve stripped each and every one of your house and apartments bare. Leaving nothing and bringing everything.

Now as you stand in your third apartment in two years, feeling defeated and tried, you wonder how most of your life can fit into 5 cardboard boxes.

All the memories filled with love, sadness, hate, years filled almost to the brim in 5 cardboard boxes.

You looked away from the depressing sight of your life in those boxes, sat down on the stool that was in front of your kitchen island, and lied your head down on the cold surface of it.

The cold was welcomed. It gave you something to think about, something else to worry about.

Your head was throbbing, pounding as you moaned in pain, your face full of sadness and distress. You felt like after moving so much in such little time, nothing was going your way, and the world seemed cold and uncaring.

Anchovy was curled up next to you, the feline's purr providing you a comforting and soothing presence that only she could provide. You felt her rough but soft paw, gently brushing up against your cheek, her tail swinging softly in an adorable display of cuteness.

Your attention was now drawn to the white Birman, and the feline gave a gentle meow, as if asking you if you’re alright.

You shuddered out a breath and ran your calloused hands over your face, resting your elbows on the island and your face on your hands.

“Fuck . . .” You whispered, running your hand through your hair and pushing it back out of your face at the same time. “This shit can’t get any sadder huh?”

Anchovy meowed again and rubbed her head on yours, her purring loud in your ears.

You laughed and ran your fingers through her fur. “Thanks Cho.” You bumped heads with her lightly and looked in her eyes. She in return, licked your nose.

You smiled and kissed her head, scratching behind her ears.

Disrupting the moment you were having with Anchovy, your phone rang. The sound piercing your ears and the vibrations uncomfortable on your ass. Anchovy leaped from the island counter to your lap as you reached in your back pocket to get your phone.

The contact calling you was no other than your older sister. You swiped to accept the call and held the phone against your ear, petting Anchovy with your unoccupied hand.

“What’s up scales?”

“One,” she snapped, “i am not a fish. Two, I called to warn you. So shut up, and listen.”

You paused combing your fingers through Anchovy’s fur. Vera never called to warn you, and she never sounded so serious.

“What is it?” You questioned. If it was anybody else calling you to warn you about something, you would’ve been fine. But this was Vera. Cold hearted stick-your-head-on-a-pike-if-you-look-at-me-weird Vera. She rarely even calls anybody.

You heard her sigh on the other end of the line. “Mom’s gonna call you. Shes gonna ask you for something, a favor, but you gotta promise me—”

“Mom?” You questioned. “Mom is gonna ask me for a favor? We talkin’ about the same woman right?”

She sighed again, exasperated. “Yes, [name] We’re talking about the same woman. Now listen,” she started, “shes gonna call you, ask for a favor, and you have got to fucking promise me that you hear her out because this will be beneficial to the both of you if you just fucking listen. You understand me?”

You were silent for a few moments. “[name]? [name] I swear to fucking—”

“Yeah, yeah I’m here Vee.” You sighed, rubbing your hands down your face. “You got me stressed now, is something wrong with Mom? Is Ma okay?” You questioned.

“Yes [name], Mom an’ Ma are just fine. Look I’m,” she paused for a few seconds. You couldn’t see her, but you knew she was doing that thing she always does when she’s guilty of something: playing with her ear. “I’m sorry. For worrying you. I just—”

“—want what’s best for me I know Vee. I love you too.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever. And you know I don’t like it when you say it like that.” She grumbled. Ever since you two were little, she would always get mad whenever you would say “I love you too” instead of “I love you” saying it sounded like you agreed with the fact that she loved you.

You let out a small laugh. Smile playing at your lips. “Fine. I love you Vera.”

“You promise you’ll hear her out? Promise me.” She stressed.

“I promise, Vera. Cross my heart an’ hope to die.”

You could hear her smile through the line. “Good. I love you [name].”She affirmed and then the line ended.

You sat still for a moment, worrying, stressing, overwhelmed. was Mom okay? Was Vera okay? The emotions you were feeling right now were equivalent to the feeling of unknowingly being led into a field of landmines by someone you trusted and that person just walking away. Leaving you to your imagination. Would you step on a landmine, Would you walk away with all your limbs intact?

Yes, you loved Vera with your entire heart and more, but a little less suspense would do your mind some good.

Because of this, this field of suspense that Vera trapped you in, you didn’t notice how Anchovy slipped away, likely taking a nap in your room. Not noticing the little things, not noticing how your heart pounded, how your breathing started coming short, how little crescents started to form on the palm of your hands from the onslaught of your nails, how you lip started to bleed from how much you bit it, how—

Your phone was ringing again.

It snapped you out of whatever daze you were in before. Pulling you up from the dark of the unknown. Your mind. Waking you up, making you realize that yes, you were still here, and no, this is not a dream.

You took a deep breath and answered the call, not looking at the caller ID.

“Hello? [name]?”

It was Mom. Why was she calling? Is she alright? Is Ma alright?

“Mom? Whats wrong, are you—” You took a calming breath. “—are you okay?”

She was silent on the other line for a moment. “Did Vera not tell you I’d call?”

You paused. Holding the phone on your ear hearing faint static coming from the other line. Sitting confused for a few seconds.

In more ways than one, the sound of static was like your mind. The mental clutter occupying all the space for any other thoughts or emotions; and like static, they were blurred, unable to piece together correctly. Your thoughts were clouded and confused after the little episode that you had after hanging up with Vera. Right now, all you could hear were a million radio stations all playing at once, constantly intruding on each other and creating an awful, chaotic noise. Your head felt like it was about to explode if you didn’t—

“[name].” Came her calming voice. “[name] can you hear me? Try to breathe sweetheart, you’re alright.”

You did as you were told and took a deep breath, prolonging the exhale. “Yeah—yeah she told me about you callin’ I just,” You took another calming breath. “just had a moment Mom, m’ fine.”

“Another one?” She asked, and you nodded in response even though she couldn’t see it. Either way, she knew. she always did.

“What’d you wanna talk about?” You question, changing the topic. Mostly because you couldn’t bear to talk about yourself. Your problems, your fears.

She cleared her throat. Likely preparing herself for the conversation. “Listen, before you cut me off—”

“—Too late, Mama. Stop beatin’ around the bush. Please. You know how I am about that.” You begged. Brows furrowing as you looked around the kitchen. You stood up and walked to the living room instead. Standing in front of a bouquet of flowers left on the coffee table Vera got you when you moved here. The petals and stems still wet, you need a vase. Anything to distract yourself.

You walked back to the kitchen and reached the too cupboard for a clear white vase. You picked it up with care and starting a search for the flower food you know it came with, you put it somewhere.

She sighed on the other end of the line for the umpteenth time. “You need to face it [name]. Face the fact that he’s still alive and looking for you. Face the fact that you can’t run forever and that you need to look the Devil in his fucking eyes and say “No.””

You sighed and paused your search. Raising your hand to your face and rubbed at your eyes, already feeling a migraine. “Mom—” You find the flower food and bring it and the vase back to the living room. Throwing the food hazardously on the coffee table.

“No, [name]. I love you. You know I love you. Vera loves you and you know your Ma loves you more than God ever could.” She said. She was pleading. For what, you didn’t know.

You stopped in front of the coffee table. The line was silent on both ends for a few seconds. Feeling like minuets, hours.

“Mom,” You worried. “what is this about . . ?”

“I’m sorry, [name]. I just want what’s best for you and—”

“Mom.”

You were gripping the vase so tightly you were surprised it didn’t break under your hands.

You heard her choke out what sounded like a shaky breath and sigh at the same time.

“I put in a permanent spot request for you in a Task Force.” She took a deep breath. To calm herself, you don’t know. You were lost. “You transfer there tomorrow. I was gonna ask for your permission to send the request before-hand but after your little episode, how you do things to distract yourself from what’s going on around you, you need structure baby, routine, and the one thing that’s gonna give you that, is by doing this.”

That tight grip you had on the vase got tighter, and tighter, until there was nothing to hold onto anymore. Only broken shards of glass, your blood, and the sound of the vase breaking that closely resembled screams.

Something you wanted to do right now: scream, cry, throw a fucking fit.

“[name], listen—” She didn’t get to finish her sentence. You started a new one, interrupting her.

“You didn’t—” You let out a choked laugh pushing your hair out your eyes blood following, painting wherever your fingers touched red. “You didn’t think, to ask me? Do you know how much trauma and war I’ve been in and seen in the military? How much shit I was going through because of him? And you want me to go back? Forcing me?”

“Yes, [name], I know, believe me, I know. But you’re running away. You need to face this and end it.” She sounded so bleak. “I don’t care, I don’t care if you hate me for this, but I can’t keep seeing you like this, baby. I can’t keep seeing you without that light in your eyes, that smile that would never go away, that laugh,” She sobbed. She sobbed. Your Mom, crying her eyes out can be heard from your end of the line. The sound broke your heart. Broke it into tiny pieces, tinier pieces than the pieces of glass on the floor. She sobbed.

“Please, [name], please. I need you to live your life.”

You let out a shaky breath, trying not to let your tears run.

“Please.”

You held your head with your bloodied hand, smearing blood everywhere, unbeknownst to yourself, to try and calm the raging migraine you felt. You let out a sob hushed by your closed mouth and blinked tears away.

“Please...”

You sucked in air through your nose, and let it out after five seconds. Repeating the motion twice more.

“Wherever it is,” You gasped out, wiping your nose with your sleeve. “M’ not paying for a ticket there.”

You could hear her smile. And when she laughed a laugh that could make flowers bloom and the sun shine brighter, you let the tears fall. And after the call ended, it was shameful, the cry you let out.

***

"Why are we here Cap? Thought we were done for the day?" Gaz said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Price turns to him from his sitting position across from everybody and facing the door. "Laswell gave me word of—"

"Please—Ma'am you can't go in there! You're not cleared yet and—"

"Do I look like I give a damn? Where the fuck is Station Chief Kate Laswell?"

"She's-"

"I'll take it from here Sophie. Go on back to the Med Wing."

Sophie, they think, sighs and they hear her retreating footsteps. The men inside waited with bated breaths as they wondered who could be outside.

"Word o' wha' Price?" An accented voice asked. Mohawk overgrown a bit and kissing the tip of his eyebrows. Price let out a stressed sigh and leaned on his hands with his elbows on the table in front of him. "You'll see." He responded.

Hushed whispers are all they heard. Unable to make out anything from through the thick door.

Another sigh, and the door handle clicked as it was turned.

Entering first was Laswell. A file tucked underneath her arm as she nodded at Price and sat down next to him across from everybody else. And the new face entering the room now.

What they noticed first. Was not the fact that she noticed Ghost lurking in the corner of the briefing room immediately, her eyes shifting and meeting brown before promptly facing the front, was the fact that she had to duck and shift to the side to fit through the door.

Unmistakable pounds of muscle and healthy fat was standing at attention in front of the Task Force 141.

Something they didn't know what to do with.

Kate cleared her throat. Gaining the attention of everybody in the room and meeting the hard eyes of the woman still standing in front of the door. Waiting. "Everybody." She started, as she handed out the file, much likely the mystery woman's file, to Price. "Meet Colonel [name] [I.name]. Been on the force since eighteen and specializes in stealth, pararescue, close-combat fighting, and," she paused, looking at [name] directly. "she's a damn good sniper too."

Price looked at [name] then back at Kate after a few seconds. "The fact that her record is impressive is why you brought us all here for?" He sighed out. "Laswell, why is she here?"

Kate matched Price's stare with her own. "Because Captain, you need her if you ever want a chance at catching and killing Graves and Shepard." She said.

The room was silent. A chance at catching Graves and Shepard? In the months they’ve been gathering intel, chasing loose ends, and hitting rock bottom, they haven't even scratched the surface of finding the two. Now Laswell is saying this goliath of a woman can help them?

"How is she gonnae help us?" Soap said, turning in his chair and lifting his chin to look at the woman behind him.

But the woman never looked down to meet his eyes. She looked straight ahead and met the eyes of Kate Laswell.

Kate stared at [name] for a hard minute. And only after did she start to speak.

“You can hate it, you can love it, but either way,” Kate said, keeping her eyes on [name], “either way she’s on your team.” In that exact moment it felt as though Kate was talking to [name]. Generalizing the sentence but directing it towards the woman. Kate, looking at [name] still, knew her hands were being clenched behind her back. Nails digging painfully into the skin of her palms. The same skin that was being reopened.

A heavy sigh interrupted the moment. Captain Price rubbing his forehead while looking to the side at Kate. “And we got no say in this matter?” He said after a moment, directing his eyes to meet with yours.

“No, John.” Kate said, walking around the table to the door behind you discreetly touching your back and squeezing. We’ll talk later. “Not even you can change this decision.” Then, she left.

He sighed again. “No offense to you, Colonel,” He said after a moment. He stood and walked the length of the table, like Kate did moments before, to stand in between the space you had between yourself and the table. “But if you want to stay, and yes, I do have a say in that matter, then earn your keep. You hear?” You could hear as hint of venom in his voice, masked by the deep rumble of his voice.

“None taken, Captain.” You matched his stare. “But do you really think the higher ups will take me out the team just because of petty hostility towards a new teammate?”

While you were tall, Price was much taller. Standing straight at what looks like 6’8 from your position and piercing you with a hard sea colored stare. In a situation like this, you were supposed to crane your neck to meet his eyes. Supposed to. However, you kept your face and head straight. Only lifting your eyes to match his stare.

“Only if that temporary presence in this team can’t control their mouth.”

A presence behind you, not close enough to feel their body pressed against you, but enough to imagine it. You knew it was Ghost because of how he snuck up on you. Waiting until you were engrossed in this little staring contest with his Captain to pounce.

Like a shadow.

Only then, did you realize the situation you were in. In the middle of two big men, in a room filled with two more equally big men. What have you gotten yourself into?

“I don’t know Lieutenant,” You turn around partially at the waist to face the man behind you. Eyeing the glaring chocolate eyes behind the pale white of the skull mask. “Life always has its ups and downs doesn’t it?”

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