Doeminiaa

𐡸· Call me Mini ⟡ adult ⟡ she/her ⟡ 🇮🇪 ·𐡷

- Sideblog - Anti Ai -

𖣓 Call of duty Masterlist

Tbi!Johnny’s grown out that awkward strip of hair on top of his head. He’s no longer that person. Hates it when you touch his shaggy locks. Reminds him of your fingers gently massaging his scalp, a little too close to that star shaped scar he doesn’t want to see ever again.

How he couldn’t do the simplest of things other than lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. How the only temperamental thing in his life is him now and not an explosive device. You seem to press every button and wait for him to explode, any reactions better than nothing. He doesn’t mean to snap, but he can’t seem to swallow his own pride and give up everything he was before.

The doctors said Johnny was a lucky man. His Mam praying each day beside his bed in the hospital, he woke to find her rosary beads in his hand. A gift from god or a sentence? Johnny wasn’t so sure. He can’t bring himself to wear the cross around his neck anymore, settling on the St.Christopher pendant instead. A necklace you bought him, one of protection and good fortune.

It’s why you’ve called Simon over to have a chat.

“You nearly died, Johnny.”

Ghost’s a big action film lover, what else is he gonna do with his time off work? (which is forced by Price telling him needs a rest). The old ones are the best. He remembers watching them late at night, long after his dad’s knocked out asleep on the sofa. Watershed gone, curse words blarring through the speakers…not that he didn’t hear those during the day in his childhood home.

His favourite lines find their way into everything he does, especially over comms.

“Say hello to my little friend.” And it’s Ghost unleashing Johnny on some unsuspecting victim. Soap can be heard muttering gibberish down the line, “killing my flow L.T.”

“Yippee ki yay, motherfucker.” Ghost says it every time they have to clean out a high rise building. (He argues that die hard is a Christmas film).

Drones flying around the perimeter of [redacted] site. “Fucking skynet taking over.” And a lecture on how he’s not letting Ai do anything for him. “What next? It’s gonna wank for me?”

Kyle, Johnny and you are not all that clued up to what he’s quoting half the time. “One of those old films, eh lieutenant.” And. “Must be before my time.” Which just gets you all an ear full of educating on the classics. A rant about young-en’s stuck to phone screens and video games.

Price either finishes the movie quote or says where it’s from. “Predator, ‘87.” John shaking his head and glancing between you/Kyle/johnny (you, Kyle and Johnny watch it as soon as you’re back at base).

You try to convince Ghost to watch some newer films, but he complains about the lighting in recent ones and how he doesn’t like it. “Don’t make ‘em like they used to.” Do not mention remakes of the classics or a second part twenty years later. “I could piss out a better story.”

[18+] MDNI

Sergeant!Reader that just so happens to go the the gym at the same time as Kyle.

Kyle’s fast on his feet, graceful and keeps you on your toes. That and the fact he uses flirting tactics against you to catch you off guard. He’s smooth with it too, whispering in your ear as he’s got his arm wrapped around your neck. “Too tight?” His bicep flexing. Innuendo after innuendo. You don’t call him out on it, knowing he’ll turn it around on you and your dirty mind.

His stamina’s off the charts. Simon’s large form and weight goes against him, you try to fight him last after everyone else has, to give yourself a better chance. Johnny taunts you, but he doesn’t fully give you his all. Kyle though, he uses everything he’s got. You’re sure he enjoys teasing you. Manhandling you into various compromising positions, all in the name of “bet you can’t get out of that one.” And, “huh, who knew you were that flexible?”

And he’s fucking competitive too. Always trying to pin you to the mat more times than your previous practices. “Reckon I could get you under me.” He knows what he’s doing. Circling you as he lifts the hem of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his face.

John helping you fix up some stuff around your flat, but he doesn’t ask if you need him to do it, he’s going do it anyway. That leaky tap in the bathroom’s been driving him mad, the repetitive drip bordering on torture as he lays awake each night beside you.

He finds your metal toolbox in the oddest of places, picks it up and swings it to the side, surprised at the light weight. He shakes it, the rattle of whatever’s inside doesn’t sound like bolts or nails. Your screwdrivers are still under the sink in the kitchen, so he knows they can’t be in here.

It’s the same toolbox you spotted at his and you inspected all the compartments, even measured the width and depth. John opened yours chuckling at the tailors chalk and fabric scissors in a leather pouch, three tiny scissors which you’d told him were thread snappers. Spools of thread neatly crammed and colour coded on one side, bobbins and measuring tape on the other. The pin cushion has him retracting his hand, small nick of his finger prodding a sharp edge. Of course you had other ideas for this box.

In your defence there is a tiny screwdriver in there for your sewing machine. “See a tool,” you say waving it front of his face.

He’ll buy you some of the basics. Reminds himself not to let you in his garage or show you his metal drawer. You’ll no doubt want him to lug one of those up the stairs to your flat. Fill it with the overspilling contents in the sewing box under your desk.

John ends up bargaining with you, let him fix that sodding leaky tap and he’ll let you get his measurements for a better fitting suit.

He picked you out specifically. Estranged from your family, hard over worker that all your friends don’t keep up with you anymore. The perfect person he could save when it all went wrong and you were targeted by some other war criminals.

John warned you it might get ugly. He’s counting on it.

The more time you spend with John you realise he’s exactly the person everyone thinks he is. A war criminal haunted by the loss of one of his own.

“Sometimes you gotta get dirty in order to be clean.” John says as he wipes the bloody blade on his denim clad thigh. Bodies scattered across your living room floor, but you should know by now that someone like him must do bad in order to do good. He calls people to sweep your flat and dispose of the casualties like it’s routine.

Many hours spent in your office are now in a safe house, his house. There’s two figures you see around the acres and acres of land he owns, you’re convinced they’re ghosts. Never seen them up close and when you tell John about them he holds you close. Your ear pressed to his chest so you can hear the steady beat of his heart.

“I’ll keep you safe, don’t you worry about a thing,” he whispers, palm running up and down your spine to chase the trembles away.

⟡ Call of duty

Johnny Mactavish x Hacker!Reader (gender neutral)

Simon Riley x Hacker!Reader (gender neutral)

Simon Riley x sibling!reader (gender neutral)

John Price x Younger sibling!reader (gender neutral)

Delta!Ghost x Human!Reader (gender neutral)

Sergeant!Reader memory loss x Ghost (gender neutral)

Lawyer!Reader x war criminal!Price (gender neutral)

John Price & your toolbox

Kyle Garrick x Sergeant!Reader - sparring (gender neutral)

Action film lover Ghost

Tbi!Johnny

⟡ TF141 ensemble x reader

The guys x therapy dog & you (gender neutral)

141!Motorcycle gang

A piece of you that they carry

Retired!141/early leave!141

⟡ Masked!Reader x TF141

Masked!Reader (gender neutral)

> Part 2 > Part 3

⟡ Other

Nikolai x Mactavish!reader

Retired!141/early leave141 and what they’d go viral for:

John’s got a YouTube channel of his vintage car projects. Mostly of his hands working under the bonnet and him talking through what he’s doing. He does lean on the car and talk about the changes he’s made to them when he’s finished them.

Comments are like (why he make putting gloves on so slutty?). (Omg are those hand prints on the bonnet??) - yeah your hands were there when he took a quick break to fuck you over the car.

The guys want to be him and the girls want to be with him. There’s also footage of him asking you to set up the camera as it keeps falling down and he’s just got this smile on his face as he watches you do it.

Simon took leave early, who would have thought? He’s now a cosy gamer (needs the lifestyle change after the shit he’s seen), streaming his builds of the sims 4 on twitch. A lot of viewers watch purely for the sound of his voice.

He ends up building something he shouldn’t, a blueprint of some [redacted] site that’s burnt into his memory and you two have to move house. “Honestly love, I could do the desert and they’d think it were a [redacted] [redacted].” And he complains about having to start another channel and get enough followers to monetise.

Has definitely made the guys as sims too.

Kyle’s famous for his outfit of the day posts across multiple social media platforms. He never shows his face, records below his chin if he’s taking a video for a fit check and poses with a cap on/no face reveal.

Gets a load of free stuff to promote and earn money from. He gets more engagement on his solo posts, but does enjoy matching outfits with you too.

Gives the guys some of the stuff he doesn’t like as gifts. The guys also tease him in the group chat daily asking him for a photo of his outfit.

Johnny’s let go from the military due to his injury and goes viral for his art videos. He’s that guy in a cut up baggy muscle tee, crouched over a canvas painting. Shaggy hair as he’s growing it out to cover the scar on the side of his head. Does the odd video topless, paint stroke stained jeans. Ruffles his hair a lot whenever he stands back from the canvas and views his work. His eyebrow pierced and few more tattoos dotted around to cover some scars.

The muscle memory’s still there, you know how to clean out a room and assemble your weapons. It’s second nature, your body’s moving before you even need to think about it. It’s just everything else doesn’t come naturally.

Sure you’ve read your files, memorised the names of your parents, (the most common names that have a million of possible matches, they might as well be John and Jane Doe). You can’t remember anything before that one mission. Price convinces you to try some new treatment, sessions to help you scratch the surface of your fragmented memories. They’re not much to go on, blood on your hands which could be any mission. Muffled voices and a dark room, thuds shaking through your form as you’re torn from your sleep.

TF141 and a piece of you they carry with them.

It’s just something small that reminds them of you whilst they’re away

Price has your lighter. Metal, casing a little scratched from your partying days and the letter of your first name barely visible, but he sees it. Sees you. It clips shut with a satisfying click. Whenever he takes it out of his pocket he’s reminded of the first time he met you. Lost his lighter, asked you. Later found out you’ve never smoked but always carried a lighter so you can break the ice with whoever you meet.

“Won’t need this,” John says, shoving the lighter in his pocket as he bids you goodbye. “Got me.”

Simon only has one picture of you. None that reveal your identity, just you wearing his mask. It’s slightly baggy on your face, fabric bunching around your jaw. Your eyes barely visible, but he sees them. Damn he dreams of them each night, your soft gaze following him as he settles down in his bunk.

And the first time he puts on that mask, all he can smell is you. It grounds him, keeps this one particular mask to wear in his free time in hopes your scent will stay with him.

Kyle’s known for his array of caps when he’s not in his military gear. No one knows that they’re actually yours. He’ll send you pictures of him wearing the latest cap he’s taken from your collection. Likes that your work colleagues are looking over your shoulder and complimenting your hot boyfriend.

Cue cheeky gym snaps with him wearing your hat and the bastard’s cropped his sweaty chest out of the picture. Such a tease, but he promises to show you more later. Hat covering his dick picture late at night.

Johnny has a tattoo of your kiss on the inside of his thigh, just for him to see. Your letters to him are all covered with your lips, he had to get it permanently on him. That one favourite colour lipstick he likes you wearing, jokes that you don’t have a hairy upper lip like the one his thigh. Sleeps in his boxers so he can catch of glimpse of you between the sheets.

Masked!Reader lost their scent years ago. Ghost pulls you aside and mentions the lack of company beside you. No Soap or Gaz bumping shoulders with you. “Might wanna wash that mask sergeant.” He doesn’t make a big deal about it, lets you have the extra minutes to go back to your bunk and put a clean one on.

You run back, sweat burning your eyes as you try not waste your lieutenant’s time. You should be sparring now, not relying on him to point out the obvious because you can’t figure it out. Balaclava, mask or whatever is always soaked and cleaned after strenuous activities, worn three days at most if you’re stuck researching (you’ve counted the days between Ghost telling you to switch them out). There’s a designated one for your off days, a matching coloured cap to pair with it.

Sub!Nikolai leaves his gold necklace clasped on the very last link. Just enough room for your fingers to curl under the chain and tug it back.

He shivers as your touch glides up his nape, chain pulling the dark tufts of hair on his chest. One last quick breath in before gold digs into his throat and tears build in his eyes, but he can’t look away from your face staring down at him. You lower your lips to his neck, the medallion pendant slipping into your mouth as you loosen your hold on his chain. Teeth snapping solid gold.

Delta!Ghost following Human!Reader around everywhere. His shadow looming over you as soon as you exit your room. You’ve lost count of the amount of times you turned round and bumped into his chest.

You’ve asked your Captain about the delta’s behaviour, but all Alpha!Price said was he’s hardwired to act like that. Delta’s have a strong sense of protecting the weak, humans break so easily to their kind. You’re not even on the same level of an omega. Still need to learn about wolf rankings without heightened scent. You can’t sniff out a position, the military patch on their lapels only offers you a role. How were you to know that lieutenant was a beta? They pretty much all wore the same scowl as they glared down at you.

Hey, thank you! This is so sweet, I really appreciate your kind words 😌