Yes I’m sorry I guess I never got around to putting that out 😅

I’m pretty lenient besides a few things.

I don’t write smut or outright romantic stuff. I’m ok with writing things that have a romantic undertone but other than that I usually like to keep it up to the readers imagination, therefore it should be able to be interpreted romantically or platonically. Another big thing is I only write gender neutral prompts so it can be interpreted by anyone.

And I honestly only write for the main four just because I don’t want to go out of my comfort zone ngl 😔

Again, I’m sorry I never specified this before I’ve never really gotten asks and such 💗

The reputation of the 141 was nothing short of impressive. They were known for their seriousness and ruthless tactics in the field. That’s why it came as a surprise to see the bond they had first hand. Especially between the team and their captain.

When the rest of the team came back battered and bruised, Price was there. He was always there to help them with whatever they needed while recovering from an injury.

He would bring simple but hearty meals in small containers just for them, which you assumed he cooked himself.

When they would finally get to sleep in their own beds instead of being in medical, he would check on them throughout the night. You woke up multiple nights to go to the bathroom just to find him roaming the halls to check on the others.

Sometimes he would do a quick check-in, other times he wouldn’t come out for a while. One night while being especially nosey, you happened to see through the crack of Soap’s door.

That’s how you caught a glimpse of Soap lying with his head on Price’s lap, the older man carding his hands through his mohawk.

Or how he would scratch Gaz’s back while reading the newspaper, the sergeant curled up beside him on the couch sleeping.

And on the days when it was rainy and cold Price would rub icy hot on the areas that would pain Ghost, all with quiet reassuring murmurs.

It was all heartwarming to watch, like a soft light in the dark.

Their friends immediately question them on the sheer amount of produce, meats, and others that they had piled into the shopping cart. Besides it was only them living there. One person shouldn’t need to buy THAT much and then go shopping two weeks later.

Expect what reader’s friends don’t know is that they’re feeding four strays grown men almost every night. They walk in looking all rough and tough but soften up instantly.

cw: nothing but angst, mentions of trauma and self-harm

Ghost: 1-3 years old

He was one of the first outed regressors on the team. Price had figured him out after a long, grueling mission alone. It took a few days for everything to finally simmer down.

Speaking of which, Ghost's regression is very trauma-filled. Most of the time he is not the happy-go-lucky kiddo people would hope for. He hits and kicks his way through it, often scratching up his own body as well.

He'll hide in any tight space he can squeeze into. Under the bed is his favorite spot to hide. It pains Price to know all he can do is just leave him alone, but it's better to let him calm down first.

Ghost cries a lot during regression. It's not a bawling cry, just whimpering and whining. Price often has to have a full box of tissues on hand to wipe his face and nose.

Even though Price loves Ghost to the moon and back, it's difficult taking care of him. When he's not being violent, he's crying until he hyperventilates and gets sick. When he needs to be bathed, he's crying and babbling about wanting to get out and hide. If he has to go to the bathroom, he's holding it until Price insists on taking him there. Ghost cannot properly pinpoint what he needs while he's regressed so it's all about routines and guessing.

Gaz: 2-8 years old

He started showing signs of regression after the incident with the helicopter in Urzikstan. Originally, Price thought he was just being difficult and having a rough week. But it didn’t take long for it to fully surface.

Gaz didn’t know he was regressing, nor did he know much about it. Ghost often did it, but he wasn’t around to see what went on behind closed doors.

One thing that stood out to Price was the frustration. When he would start to regress, he’d become increasingly more agitated as the day went on. He starts out regressing as an older kid, but by the end he’s much younger. The frustration and agitation makes him bawl, and it usually leads to Price sitting in an armchair holding him.

Gaz is the type to put himself in the corner. Price has found him countless times sitting in the corner whimpering to himself. He gets frustrated when things change or don’t go as he planned them, but it usually just leads to guilt over getting upset. Price has tried to instill into him that he isn’t bad for getting upset, but it never works.

Often cries and talks to Price about things that have happened in the past. Regressing before bed is the worst for Gaz solely because of this. He relives the most trauma at night through reoccurring nightmares. Price tries to hold him as tightly as he can but it’s never enough to keep them away. He found that sometimes it’s just easier to take Gaz to bed with him and watch over him that way.

Soap: 4-6 years old

He experienced regression before he even joined the military but didn't realize. To him, his mind would just get fuzzy sometimes and it would make normal functions slightly harder. He thought it was from bumping his head too many times.

With the others showing signs of it as well, it made his regression a bit more pronounced than before. From what Price gathered, despite regressing from childhood events, Soap seemed pretty calm.

However, Soap has been found to elope whenever he regresses. It doesn't matter where he is or what he's doing. This really started to become a problem when he would walk off in public or escape from base while everyone was asleep. He doesn't mean to get lost; he just wants to explore and get away from the trauma plaguing his brain.

Of course, these little adventures usually end up with him sobbing into Price's chest. Whether it's from the fear of getting in trouble, being lost, or both, no one knows.

Price was considered fatherly already, but experiencing one of his teammates being tiny increased it. He's the type to tie your shoes or help slip them off at the end of the day. He's the one to make sure you're tucked in properly at bedtime, which he enforces very strictly. The others often try to get him to let you stay up longer but he knows when his little one needs to sleep. So locked in he tries to baby you even when you're not in that headspace. Safe to say Price is the main caregiver.

Gaz likes to take advantage of you feeling tiny because it makes you extra sleepy and cuddly. When you're not, cuddling isn't even in the equation. But when you are, he loves just spending the entire day laying on the couch with you tucked into his side covered in a soft blanket. Nobody has seen you? Probably being tiny and laying on Gaz while watching your favorite TV shows and movies. He's the best at getting you to take naps (and usually falls asleep with you).

Soap riles you up 24/7. As soon as he gets word that you're feeling tiny from one of the others he's immediately gathering stuff to play with you. He already loves doing stuff with you on a normal day; but having a little buddy to play with and coo at? Even better. It doesn't matter if you're hyper or calm, loud or quiet, he's finding a game to play. You can even have the itty bittiest baby headspace and he still finds ways to have fun. Soap gets allegations of also being tiny because of how much he loves playing with toys with you, but he doesn't care.

Ghost was very hesitant whenever he first found out about your headspace. Even after the others became comfortable and fit into the role perfectly, he still felt out of the mix. Everyone knew how iffy he was around children, but maybe it would be different because it was you. If he ever found you feeling tiny, he would just hand you off to one of the others. They knew what to do and how to care for you. But over time he grew a little fond of holding you in his lap while he worked. You would simply curl up on his lap and lay against his chest while he typed on his computer or scribbled out reports with a pen. Admittedly, he grew to love the company.

It all started with a bad day. Everything had gone wrong from the moment you woke up until your head hit the pillow that night. On top of it all, you had a pounding headache that was keeping you awake.

You made it to the common room and to the little kitchenette hoping to find some form of pain medication. Of course, you just so happened to be out when you needed it the most.

The pain was getting to you and all the emotions surged forward in your body causing a few tears to fall. Stray tears turned into soft sobs as you sank down onto the couch, head in your hands.

You were so preoccupied with the pounding in your head you didn't even notice the footsteps getting closer to you.

"Kid, what's wrong? It's late, you should be in bed by now," Gaz sighed, voice lightly scolding as he kneeled down in front of you. He was in his regular workout clothes; he must've just come back from the gym.

No matter how hard you tried to speak, to tell him what was bothering you, nothing came out. The tears only multiplied with your frustration. This was humiliating, your teammate who you tried to constantly impress just to seem cool was now watching you cry.

Not to mention, crying over not having pain medication for a headache.

"Don't get so worked up, you'll only make yourself sick," Gaz mumbled, keeping his voice down you assumed to not wake up anyone else. His throat bobbed in hesitation as he looked towards the hall before looking back at you.

You were a mess, face all splotchy and eyes puffy from crying. It was adorable, really, but he wouldn't tell you that. It would probably only make you cry harder.

"C'mon, you're gonna lay with Price for the night. Up you go," He smiled softly as he grabbed your trembling hands and helped you off the couch.

"Wha-"

Before you could even protest he was leading you to Price's room, warm hand pressed gently into the small of your back. You could only whimper under your breath and sniffle as he knocked once on Price's door before opening it.

You were greeted by the sight of Price sitting against the wall on his bed reading a book, readers perched on the bridge of his nose. The room was bathed in soft, yellow lighting from the lamp by his bed.

He looked up from his book at the sound of the door opening, eyes instantly softening at the sight of you. Without asking, he picked up on the distress and swung his legs over the side of the bed, standing up to walk to the door.

"Thank you, Gaz. You should be gettin' ready t' settle down, yeh?" Price spoke quietly, gruff voice searing through the silence. His hand raised to smooth itself over Gaz's neck, the younger man noticeably relaxing at the touch.

"Yes, captain," Gaz answers back, quieter than before. His lips quirked up into a teasing smile at the endearment. Price huffed in amusement at his cheekiness, seemingly used to it.

You watched as they exchanged their goodnights before Gaz disappeared out the door, closing it behind him. You were alone with Price now, who in turn locked his attention onto you.

"Let's get int' bed, bubs. You need some good night's sleep."

It was hard to argue when his voice was so soothing. It eased the restlessness in you, your eyes already becoming heavy at the thought of finally resting.

You didn't hesitate to follow Price into bed, letting yourself be tucked in by him. He clicked off the lamp with a quiet grunt before settling down next to you with a sigh.

Imagine being put on desk duty after nearly selling an undercover mission and getting injured (Price and Laswell weren't happy). It had been about a month since it happened, but Price insisted you stay at the desk for a while later despite being almost fully healed.

Then, like a curse had been put on you all, a mission had gone sideways leaving Ghost severely injured. You caught a glimpse of him on the stretcher after being brought back to base. It was hard to identify what all happened, but you almost gagged seeing his right arm bent at an impossible angle.

Since he was put in a medically induced coma and probably wouldn't talk to you even if he could, you asked the sergeants. Unfortunately, they didn't know much more than you did, but Soap mentioned something about a head injury.

After two more weeks of desk duty and nearly falling asleep every hour, Price called you into his office. This was it, maybe he finally considered letting you back into the field.

He had to, right? Ghost was pretty much out of commission until further notice. It sounded selfish to think about your teammate's accident as an opening to get back into the field, but you were desperate.

Besides, Ghost didn't seem to like you anyways.

What you didn't expect was to be ordered to watch over Ghost while he recovers. Couldn't he watch over himself? He was well into his 30's you were sure of it.

That's how you ended up sitting in a chair next to your Lieutenant's bed in his room. Medical let him go back to his own room, but he had to be watched over. Since you were on desk duty, you were the perfect candidate apparently.

It was awkward, so you played on your phone while Ghost just stared at the wall. It creeped you out, you were never this close to him for so long.

You got dinner for him and yourself (reluctantly), but he didn't eat it. You held back the need to scold him. He should be grateful you even got him anything. After an hour of him not eating it, you just sighed and took the trays back to the mess hall.

After a few hours of awkward silence, it was finally midnight. You were hoping to go to your own room, finally have your own time. Except Ghost still wasn't asleep.

Great, just what you needed. As much as you didn't care much for him, it worried you to see him so out of it. He was concussed for sure, but the coma definitely left him more disoriented than the actual injury.

It was late, and you were tired. Which is why you sighed before climbing in bed next to him. He didn't react much, leaving you a little uneasy seeing your hard ass Lieutenant be so docile. Nonetheless, you eased him down to lay back on the pillow and turned him to lay on his side.

Hesitantly, you laid on your side as well with your back to him. When you woke up the next morning his back was pressed to yours while he was still fast asleep.

That's how it all started, with just one injury. You regretted it now since the large behemoth of a man couldn't properly sleep without having his back against yours.

The others made fun of you both, but Ghost didn't care, as per usual. Now when you try to stay up to play games with Soap and Gaz, a large shadow engulfs you from behind. Seeing his shadow behind you is enough of a threat for you to carry your ass to his bed.

It was a simple question, something you asked in the dark of the safe house, voice almost inaudible.

Ghost had been sitting by the lit fireplace, staring into the flames as they died. It was mostly dark now. He didn't fear much, but your question was like ice water being dumped over his body.

You were new, fairly young. He'd trained with you, sure, but this was the first mission he had with you alone. That's why he held back the ugly response waiting on his tongue. You didn't need to know how he really felt. You didn't deserve to be burdened with his problems. Didn't even deserve to be yelled at.

Ghost's eyes glared down the dying flames like they owed him money while small tears gathered on his bottom lashes. Finally, after clearing his throat and blinking away the tears, he turned around and looked at you.

You were laying on your back tucked into your sleeping bag staring at the ceiling.

"Why? Don't tell me y' miss your mum, kid," Ghost grumbles, leaning back against the wall by the fireplace.

"...A little, not much though."

He could hear the the defensiveness in your tone, it made a small smile appear on his scarred lips. Under the mask, of course. The more he thought about his mom, or who once was, the mask seemed to feel more restricting. With a grounding sigh he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his head back against the cold plaster.

"But t' answer your question, yeah, I miss her sometimes."

A shiver ran through Ghost's body as the admission left him. She was waiting for him on the other side, he had dreams about her often.

More like nightmares.

Standing in the supermarket during the summer talking to someone he hasn't seen since basic training

Sitting out on the porch, beer bottle propped up on his thigh, watching the tall grass bend in the wind

Watching him bait your hook on a cool summer morning, the sun barely peeking over the horizon

Sitting in his office late at night, the only sound being the clicking from his keyboard

Listening to the crunching of the gravel under his tires, driving through the back part of town where very few houses reside

Sitting on the couch in the common area drinking tea during a restless night

Stopping at a gas station right before dark, talking while leaning against the vehicle as it fills up

Standing in front of a fan in his garage in the middle of the summer while he works on his truck, garage door open and 80s music blasting

Sharing a cigarette in the winter while waiting for evac after a mission

Passing a shower beer back and forth between shower stalls and taking swigs of it

Mixing up clothes and either giving them back or just wearing them until the other notices

Laying on the mats in exhaustion after a good sparring session, music blasting through the speakers

Sitting in the base’s small kitchenette at 2 a.m. eating cereal in the dark without speaking

Lightly punching each other’s shoulder after being sent to medical for an injury

Taking a quiet jog in the morning before everyone wakes up, every so often talking about random things

Scrolling through the online menu of a fast-food place because sometimes it's ok to eat something not-so healthy

Driving through the closest town late at night to get a drink from the convenience store, windows rolled down

He survived but his head injury affected his brain in such a way that he became aggressive and animalistic, almost like he was in a state of constant psychosis.

Ghost was nothing but a monster.

The first day you joined the team, they said he would warm up to you. That he liked to isolate himself and he would eventually see you as family just like he did the others.

What a joke.

Ghost hated you for reasons you weren’t even sure of. You’d never done anything wrong. Any and all mistakes you made were little and could easily be fixed, just a slight mishap. But he looked at you like a threat.

He looked down on you like you were the scum on the bottom of his boots. Worst part was… he rubbed off on you.

You were once starry-eyed, always ready for everything. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity to work with Task Force 141.

Now, you were nothing but a shell. Everything seemed so dull and pointless. You deemed that Ghost was like a disease. He would continue to spread to others, almost like a brain-eating bacteria. Slowly eating away at every piece of innocence left, and leaving nothing behind but disdain.

As you always said, misery loves company.

Part of you went slower on missions, dealt with weapons a little more recklessly, stood around until the last minute when a bomb was about to explode. Like a moth to a flame.

Maybe it was Ghost that made you succumb to this grueling fate, or perhaps there was a dam in you waiting to crack and he was the final blow.

But one thing was for sure.

You were leaving everything behind, and you were taking Ghost out with you.

The thought of John Price coming to you, his feisty sergeant, after he swore he wouldn't.

You got on his nerves to no end, always finding ways to push his buttons in ways he never knew were possible. You were young, fiery, and no doubt reckless no matter how good you were in the field.

He hated how you pushed against his authority, even if your judgement was right sometimes.

One thing that always got on his nerves, though, was your constant comments on how tense he was. It was usually accompanied with that stupid smirk and an offer of "helping".

He doubted your help would ever be worth anything out of the field.

But after an exceptionally demanding mission, his body was aching in places he never knew were possible. In the quiet of his office, his joints popped and muscles strained as he stood up, groans leaving his lips.

Every mission felt like he was taking five years off his life, and he had the injuries to prove it.

That's what brought him in front of your door, or should he say Satan's door.

Price swore going to you willingly was like sacrificing himself.

Of course, you opened the door smug as ever, that damn smirk still on your face. You motioned him to your bed, closing the door behind both of you.

At first his resolve was strong, despite his upper body being bare and your weirdly skilled hands searching his back for knots.

But it didn't take long before his stone-cold facade collapsed, moans and whimpers leaving his lips and being muffled by the pillows beneath him. You couldn't help but chuckle under your breath as your darkened eyes raked over his form that was practically arching under your palms.

Meanwhile Price could only bring his rough hands up to his face smooshed into the pillows, covering his mouth to stop the pathetic noises from leaving him.

He only grumbled as you laughed at him, mentioning something about how sadistic you were. He was cut off, however, as another loud groan left his lips, thick arms holding the pillow by his head as you pressed down on a rough spot.

No one would ever guess Price would be the one to have a roommate, but there were many benefits. One being that Price has a labrador that needs constant attention. He can't take his furry friend with him so having a roommate to keep her company is nice. Of course, it's nice to have a roommate to keep the house lively even when he isn't home.

Another positive to the arrangement is that now he had someone to hold at night, no strings attached. At least that's what he told himself every night.

It caught you off guard, however, when you came home to three random men on your couch.

Well- they weren't that random, Price had mentioned them to you before, but still. You were still dressed from work, bag on your arm and keys in hand.

At first you scurried past them, face flushed from the attention as you gave a small wave to Price.

You could only avoid them for so long, Price was a big part of your routine when he was home. After all, he'd been gone for a while, and you missed him.

But it was hard to ignore him when he called out to you, saying he ordered food earlier and yours was in the fridge. The thought of him thinking of you and ordering for you while his friends were over almost brought tears to your eyes. Usually, you weren't emotionally swayed that easily, but it had been a long day at work. The thought of cooking was a dread sitting in the back of your mind.

Once you were done eating and finished your night routine, you were ready to go to bed. The only problem being that Price's friends were STILL in the living room, which meant Price was there as well. You two always slept together when he was home.

So, there you sat on the bed in your pajamas, skin refreshed and smelling of your favorite lotion. Eventually you got tired of waiting, so you walked out to get a drink from the kitchen.

Price, as conditioned as always, looked over at you from the couch. He knew that smell, it was the lotion you put on right before bed, meaning you were ready to sleep.

He was a captain, if his men had anything to say about you, he would shut it down quick.

That's how you ended up curled up on his lap with a blanket covering your legs, phone in hand as you did your nightly scroll on social media.

THANK YOUUUUU!!!!

Also that’s quite literally me 🤭

cw: probably ooc (sorry)

I don’t want to sound sadistic but I’m imagining taking care of Soap when he’s absolutely miserable and sickly 🤔

Like imagine Soap is just trying to get through the day while putting up the tough guy act to show he’s not sick. He’s in the military after all, being sick is one of the least painful things that’s happened to him.

But his head was continuously pounding and as soon as it would stop a wave of pain came crashing back in harder than the last. He was warm all over but the chills never stopped and the feverish feeling made him practically slump over during mealtimes. He couldn’t keep anything down which didn’t help his energy levels at all, not to mention the constant nausea.

By the end of the day, he barely had any will to stand anymore, hence why you found him collapsed on his bed. You were both pretty well acquainted and often got drinks from time to time.

The only difference was you’d never seen him in such a vulnerable position. It was hard to watch the man that was always energetic and lively turn into a miserable, pathetic mess.

So you helped him out a little by getting a pair of comfy clothes out of his dresser and picking his gear up off the floor. With a bit of hesitation, you even helped him get dressed.

Your eyes never wandered as you eased him out of his sweat soaked clothes. Whether it was from humiliation or pain you didn’t know, but you were stopped in your tracks at the small sniffle he let out.

That sniffle soon turned into small whimpers as he put his shaking, scarred hands in front of his face to hide himself. Eventually those whimpers were accompanied by small sobs as he turned his head away while you helped put his sweatpants on.

The guilt got to you, however, so instead of putting his shirt on him you decided to wrap his shaking form into a blanket on his bed.

After a few uncomfortable seconds you began to softly coo at him, anything to get the man to stop crying. That only seemed to make him cry more, sobs and whimpers slightly muffled from his hands covering his face.

You held him against you, gently rocking back and forth while holding back the urge to look down at his crumpled form. Of course, you hated to see him crying and miserable, but gosh was he cute.