the 141 aren’t stupid -- they wouldn’t carry a photo of you in their vest or helmet. no name written anywhere, nothing on their body that could potentially trace to a woman back home.
but they all carry something.
simon has a hair tie on his wrist. black, cheap, the kind you buy in packs of fifty and lose all over the damn flat. it sits under the cuff of his glove, biting into his skin, reminding him exactly why he needs to make it home. it always smells like your shampoo for a bit before it starts to smell like his own sweat, he finds himself a new one on the bathroom floor before each deployment.
price wears a watch. it’s not the watch that’s about you, really. it’s that he started setting the second time zone to match yours. he checks it more than he should, especially at night when he can’t sleep and it’s three a.m where he is and eight a.m where you are. he’ll think: ‘she’ll be making coffee, i wonder what she wore to bed’ and that’s the closest he lets himself get to mixing you with work.
kyle wears a bracelet. it’s thin braided yarn, the kind of thing you learned to make as a kid at camp. you made it on a slow sunday afternoon while he was half-asleep on your thigh. he said ‘oh, that’s sick, darling. ta!’, put it on and hasn’t taken it off since. it’s absolutely filthy these days. and when it starts to fray, he simply keeps re-knotting it, sometimes johnny has to help get it tight.
johnny carries a folded square of paper that’s gone so soft it feels like fabric, he keeps it safe in a zipped pocket on his kit. it’s a grocery list in your looping handwriting that you’d left him on the kitchen counter one morning. eggs, soy milk, the good butter, berries, your stupid crisps, wine (red). it’s got a small heart in the corner -- that’s the most worn bit because he brushes his thumb over it every night.
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John Price wasn’t a man prone to sentiment. But lately, he’d caught his son watching him with that quiet, studious expression that five year olds wore when they were trying to understand something big.
It started small. A look, a tilt of the head when John helped you ease onto the couch, one hand steady at your back, the other adjusting the pillows just right. Then came the little imitations—a small hand pressed to your knee when you sighed, a too-big glass of water pushed into your hands before you even asked for it.
Yeah. The boy was watching.
John saw it in the way his son trailed after him, his steps careful and deliberate, like he was trying to map out the rhythm of care he has always provided for you.
He didn’t just follow orders; he anticipated. When John pulled out a chair for you, the boy did the same at breakfast the next morning, brows drawn in concentration as he dragged the heavy thing across the floor. When John pressed a hand to your lower back in passing, the kid reached up later, tiny palm resting there for half a second before scampering off, satisfied with a smile that he made his mother feel comfortable.
And when you winced one evening, shifting uncomfortably, it was your son who slipped off the couch without a word, returning a minute later with one of your small heating pads from the bathroom. He set it down beside you, nudging it toward your hand before looking up expectantly.
John, sitting across from you, just huffed a quiet laugh.
Smart boy.
He didn’t tell him to do any of this. Didn’t have to.
The kid was simply learning straight from him. Picking up on the way his father moved around his mother, how he noticed things before you had to say them, how care wasn’t in grand gestures but in the easy, natural rhythm of love.
John caught his son’s eye, tilting his head just slightly. The boy straightened a little, waiting.
Good lad, he thought, with a small nod of approval.
It’s been a long mission for Price, Soap and Ghost. Was supposed to be a simple two weeks recon turned into two months in hiding, never staying in one place too long. The plane ride back to base felt like a godsend. They wonder what you and Kyle have been up to while they were away.
Once they get through all the messy paperwork and debriefing, their feet drag on the ground to the showers. It’s silent as they each take a stall, washing away the grime, the aches, the entire mission if they could. Lights out isn’t for another few hours and they haven’t spotted you or Kyle yet so they head towards the common room.
They round the corner only for Johnny to scream and nearly jump out of his skin when he sees you. You with a silk bonnet on your head, face covered in a drying green clay face mask, fluffy bathrobe, a bag of crisps in one hand and a tea in the other. “Nice to see you too.” You roll your eyes at his theatrics, Simon shoving Johnny off his torso.
“Wha’ on earth are ya doin’?” John asks.
“It’s self care night! I usually stay in my room but I’ve been coming out since you’ve been away.” You shrug and walk past them, leading to the common room.
“So ye have just been doin’ tha’ by ye’self?” Johnny asks.
“No, Kyle joins me now too.”
“Bonnie, we love ye’ bu’ even we kew Kyle woul’n’t be caught wit’ green icin’ on his face.”
“For your information, it’s a revitalising mask and he rather enjoys it.” Simon pushes the door open for you and you all enter.
Kyle is sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch with a book in his hands, his own fluffy robe on and the cray mask spread over his nose and forehead. Johnny lets out a laugh when he sees him.
“Kyle, ye’ve been taken ta the dark side!”
The only acknowledgment the others receive is a nod at their return as you sit on the couch behind him. He leans his head back and you place a small peck on his hairline before massaging his scalp. “If this is the dark side then I’m all for it.”
Maybe the kisses and massage makes John, Simon and Johnny slightly jealous.
Okay but being Price's wife and the Task Force treating you like part of the family team.
Price being on a video call with the Task Force, and you laying your head in his lap. They don't know that you're there until Gaz casually asks how the missus is...To which you poke your head up from Price lap and answer for yourself. This is met with Soap and Gaz excitedly greeting you, while Ghost just waves and greets you in a tone that's gentler than his usual one.
Or calling Price while he's with the guys, and he tries to excuse himself but the guys have him put you on speaker so they can all say hello too, their voices honestly drowning his out.
Whenever you go to the base, the guys are like your personal bodyguards...Or like three unruly dogs that follow you like lost puppies. Whenever Price sees the Sergeants flanking you while Ghost leads so he can open doors for you, he can't help but smile.
The boys grin and giggle like kids whenever you kiss Price, just acting surprisingly childish for grown men who are usually more serious.
They're also the biggest helps in the kitchen, because yes they're invited over for dinner after successful missions. Kyle helps with the actual cooking process, Johnny's the official tester (has kicked yours and Price's dog out of the kitchen so he could take its place), and Simon is always helping with the dishes.
And when you announce that you're expecting? Do NOT expect any of those men to be normal about it. They're the official babysitters and bodyguards, they want that baby to know their names before its even BORN.
You married Price, but they're kind of a package deal.
CW: afab reader but no specification, pre established relationship, Illusion to sex, slightly controlling behaviour (gaz)
Simon RIley:
When you tell him he just stares at you for a few seconds before going “....right.” then immediately handing you the tea he was literally just drinking and disappearing into the kitchen. He does a little boomerang getting you comfort items and bringing them to the couch, he doesn’t need to and you don’t have to ask but he just gets it for you happily. You play with the little skull decal on the mug as he looks down at you, just silently watching over you and waiting.
“Simon, I'm fine…it’s not contagious.” you laugh as he just nods in response and keeps his eyes locked on you. “Simon, seriously, relax.” he eventually eases onto the couch next to you just staring.
“Sorry uh…don’t like you bein’....uncomfortable…”
“Well the staring isn’t helping.”
“Just…i want to help.” he nearly grunted slowly moving closer to you on the couch “i don’t know how”
“Just sit with me, Simon.” He spends the next hour slowly scooching closer and closer before he wraps himself around your hand, has his big hand on your stomach and just whispers.
“Am I helping…?” His breath caresses the shell of your ear and as you, not a small content little hum escapes him, a sound that makes your eyes widen because you didn’t think a man like him could even make it. “Good.” he nuzzles deep into your neck.
Johnny Mactavish:
The words “I’m on my period” exit your mouth and he does not even bat an eye, he is not bothered whatsoever. He has sisters, 3, a period means fuck all to him except if you have a particularly bad one to make a pillow fort refuge on the couch incase he does something wrong. But when you cry over stubbing your toe on the counter his hands wrap around the back of your head as he shoves it into his chest, holding you tight and shushing you.
“Ye'r braw, a hurt toe isnae gonnae murdurr ye love,” he kisses along your hairline and slowly guides you to bed letting you cry your heart out.
“But it hurts johnny-” you sniffled as he puts your heating pad on your stomach and turns on the tv, putting on your favorite show.
“A'm sure it does darlin'” he turned off the big lights and put on the lamp on your nightstand before slowly easing into bed with you and manhandling you into his arms with a contented smile. You whine in protest as he constantly feeds you water but he immediately quiets you down with headrubs, massaging and scratching your scalp. “Dinnae fight it sweets...trying tae mak' yer feelin' better alright?” When you nod he smiles and lets you fall asleep snuggled up against his body warmth.
Kyle Garrick:
“I know”
“What the fuck do you mean you know?” you huff after coming out of your bathroom, having told Kyle you were on your period, he doesn’t even look up from his phone.
His eyes flicker up“I have your period tracker on my phone” he shows his phone and it was accurate.
“That's weird- you're weird, Garrick!” you huff as you go to walk away and storm off to your den of solitude in your room but he’s hot on your tail.
“Darling, I just want to look after you…let me?” He holds you by the waist and slowly turns you before leaning down and placing a slow and gentle kiss on your lips. “I’ll delete it if you want…” he nudges at your nose with his own. “I have it mostly for…nefarious purposes” you slap his arm at that but you can’t help but crack a small smile. His whiskey brown eyes gazing down into your own with a kind of love that couldn’t quite be put into words.
“No it’s fine…” you smile, you couldn’t stay mad at him. No, literally you don’t think it’s physically possible for you to stay mad at him when he looks at you like that, with those puppy dog eyes.
“Is that why you bought me a new hot water bottle?”
He pecks your lips “mhm..” he chases your lips as you keep speaking.
“And the bathbombs….” he kept trying to kiss you, holding you gently on either side of the neck, his eyes hooded yet focussed on your lips. “Mhm~” he plants another one on you, his breathing getting a little faster.
“Is that why you bought me a family pack of chocolates?” he smiled and slowly moved the hair away from your face.
“I thought we could share them”
“Oh you’re funny garrick” you grin as you break away and grab the chocolates from the counter before planting yourself in a blanket cocoon.
John price:
He also really isn't all that bothered when you break the news, nor does he mind when you wake him up in the middle of the night to tell him you leaked on the white bed sheets. This bear of a man lifts your bridal style to the bathroom and sits you on the edge of the bath. He retrieves a clean pair of underwear and sleep shorts for you, still seemingly mostly asleep as he mechanically pulls the sheets off the bed and puts them in the wash immediately, switching it on. He knocks on the bathroom toilet.
“Alright love?” he hummed his voice about two octaves lower than normal, you can't see but his forehead is pressed against the door, almost falling asleep right then and there, shirtless pressed against the door of the ensuite.
“Mhm…”you waddle out and press into him, he’s still warm as hell, he always runs warm but he was like a personal heater just for you. “Feel like shit…” you grumble as his coarse chest hair rubs up against your cheek. He sleepily just kisses the intersection of your eye brows blindly trailing kisses down your face hoping to maybe get one somewhere close to your lips.
“Lets go back to bed, silly.” he lifts you by the back of the thighs back into bed and just smushes you into the bed and when you tell him about it the next morning he doesn't even remember a single thing. He was barely awake anyhow.
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request. headcanons for simon price x reader who fucking DEMOLISHED their knees biking for several hours straight help me -🐉
so i know you probably meant Simon Riley x Reader but I'm just gonna do my own thing with this and give you both Simon and John hcs. A twofer if you will hehe x
(thank you for this im foaming for cod reqs)
Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN!Reader hcs
Simon would think your complaining was the most annoying yet cutest thing ever. He'd for sure mock you (affectionately) about it, too.
"Poor baby, eh? Your poor legs are tired, oh, what a shame."
^ he says while massaging your muscles to help ease the pain for you. Despite his mockery, he's not going to just sit there and watch you in pain.
If you've got bruises on your knees he will kiss them better and go get you frozen peas out of the freezer to put on them.
"Don't need these swelling up on us, love."
Followed by him propping you up and making you both a cup of tea.
Don't get him wrong, though, he's still going to be making fun of you for the next several days and forcing you to stretch your muscles even when you don't want to.
In the morning he would run you a warm bath and tell you to get in. While you're in there, he'd make the two of you breakfast (it's terrible- Simon cannot make food, bless him)
Simon sets you both at the dinner table, takes one bite, spits it out and dumps both of your food in the bin. He tells you to stay put and goes into town to pick you both up food.
He'd offer to take you with but he seriously doubts that your knees would like the rumble of his bike.
John Price x GN!Reader
John is much softer about it all. He'd come in and see you wincing and immediately ask what's going on.
After you tell him you went a little overboard on the biking, he'd chuckle and set you down on the benchtop, encouraging you to stop making dinner.
"Sit there a minute, gorgeous. Have you put ice on them yet? No, why not y'goose, eh? Alright, love. There you go. All better, yeah?"
He'd crowd in between your legs and hold the ice packs in place for you. He'd give you a couple cheeky neck kisses, chuckle gruffly into your neck when you gasp and then tell you to sit tight while he finishes making your dinner.
He'd hand you your dinner and you'd both eat it at the bench. You sitting on the bench happily chewing away (if a bit tired) and John leaning up against the cabinets.
Once you're both done, he'd put the dishes away and pick you up, delighting in your squabbling about how you can, in fact, walk, thank you very much, Captain Price.
He'd put you gently down on the lounge first before lifting your legs gingerly and sitting down with them in his lap. He'd put one of your favourite shows on and sit there quietly massaging your feet and legs.
"Sorry, darlin'- got to keep the blood flowing. I know it's uncomfortable now, but trust me, you'll thank me later."
He definitely falls asleep that way, hand still around your calf and head thrown back. Ungodly loud snores escaping him.
In the morning you're still sore, but it's not as bad as it was the night before and Price spends all day pampering you and taking care of you anyway.
This just popped into my head, s/o reader who hates perfume, so they sometimes steal the boys' cologne
:3
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F!Reader, fluff, established!relationship
---
You never liked the smell of any perfume, tried to love at least one but none of them felt like they would be your signature smell, that and the smell was always so strong. All your friends had one, they would try and persuade you into buying one but never did you feel like one belonged to you. Your boyfriend knew this, he knew that he wouldn't have some of your perfume all over his clothes and he was fine with it. Your lipstick stain on his neck or the red hue on his lips was enough for him to parade around. He fell in love with the girl who left those beautiful lipstick stains.
As he was away once more for his job, you roamed his flat, wore his clothes when you were cold or when you missed him in the dark of night, his clothes were there. All for you to take, he promised. That was his goal, for his pretty lady to wear anything he wore, you'd after all have a piece of him in the way you dress. That is the dream life for him. A simple compliment to himself and you, he is yours as much as you are his. Equals in love, except the silly arguement in who loves who more. Although he crowned himself as the ultime lover of you and no, you can't win him. "I love you more, more, more, more," each 'more' kept getting mumbled with each kiss he gave your pouty lips.
Price:
He came home late, his boots kicked off and as he noticed that you were in fact staying in his flat, he smiled. A new hoodie, all black, no pockets, hm, that's new. No perfume but cologne as its smell. Then it struck him, it was his cologne. But the hoodie wasn't his and before he could form a theory, you came out of the bathroom, wrapped around a towel. His cologne's aroma spread around. Ah, so that's new. His pretty girl found not a perfume but a cologne, his cologne. He walked to you, soft skin kissed by his lips. "My love," he whispers and kisses your neck. "I could've picked you up, you know." Your hands take off the dusty hat.
"No need. Smell good, my pretty girl," he kisses your lips before picking you up and carrying you to bed. As you chuckled, he made a mental note, to leave small bottles of his cologne around your and his flat for when he was gone. When asked, you answered, "I never knew the smell of cologne would bring me home." He held back the blush and happy tears. All this time, in search of your signature perfume, his cologne brought a sense of familiarity, a sense of belonging. He belongs to you as you to him.
Gaz:
You were there at base, comfortable clothes on as you waited for him. Looking in the sea of soldiers and then, there they all were. His buddies and him, he was telling some joke when he made eye contact. Had to look twice and when your eyes and his met, he patted his mate's back and ran to you. You open your arms and as he held you like the most important being on this planet, he smelt it. The cologne he wore every day. The little sniffs you would take and how he pretended to not notice. His angel was wearing it. Something so small that he knew you hated to do but did it because of him. The scent he first wore to meet you, the one he held your hand when you cried, the one in which he asked your father for permission to marry his little girl.
A smell, a scent, so simple but so special. One thing you hated but now it adorned your body, wrapped you like a hug when he was away. Something you did on accident one day but couldn't stop do it. "Oh my R/N," he smells his cologne on you again. The kisses around your lips increased and his mates shook their heads with a smile. An arm around your shoulder, a proud smile that his girl walked around smelling like him and in return, he wore that lipstick stain.
Soap:
It wasn't soon that he noticed the smell, took some minutes but then as you passed him in the kitchen, the smell of food disappeared with the smell of his cologne. That couldn't be, he just took a shower and forgot to apply it-you. His bonnie, his pretty little bonnie. His arms immediately pulled you to his chest. Nose dragged around you like a hound. "My sweet girl," the biggest smile on him. You had completely forgotten about it, it was a routine. Wake up, change, spray some of his cologne and out the door. Three months away from him, that's how fast you adapted his scent on you. It was the only way to keep him there as he fought some other war.
"Aren't ya the cutest," he boops your nose and you chuckle. It was cute, the girl who swore no perfume was good and the scent was so disgusting, was now drowned in his cologne. That rich smell kept him home whilst away. The jumper, and the shirt, were all covered in his cologne. It feels right, you told yourself. I know it's right, he told himself. Pretty princess, his pretty princess. And now, on each trip to the store, he passes by the place where he bought his cologne, and buys one extra one, small-sized for the pretty purse you love to use.
Ghost:
As you eagerly waited by the door like a kid and his arms wrapped around the open good thing the world gave him in return, he knew the smell. "My love-" a sentence that would question the smell, only to be interrupted by your kiss. A much-awaited kiss. It's love, he remembers the first time he blushed when you kissed his scars. It's love, the way you now wear his cologne after the silly argument on why all perfumes were shit. There are two things that make up Simon Riley, his past and his future, which he knows he'll spend with you. There are two things that make up Ghost, the will to fight like the monster he is out there and the man who knows he fights like a monster so his love and he can only worry about their grandkids at old age.
"You...why..my love why are you-" Once more you interrupt, "I don't like the sweet smell of perfumes for many reasons but I love the smell of the one man I have found love and happiness with." Words that to this day he holds onto. So what if Soap makes a comment on why his mask has a lipstick stain? His best girl made it, its what keeps Simon and Ghost together on the field. No perfume on his packed clothes but the girl who walks into the coffee shop smells like the tall man who asks for Earl-grey tea and that makes him smile.
This is just self indulgent cause I got my first tattoo illegally for my 14th birthday (kinda early)
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Simon isn't too surprised. he knows how you are, and knows you like tattoos. but that doesn't mean he isn't upset. he doesn't want you to have stuff like this so early, he was hesitant to let you gauge your ears even. He isn't too upset with you, having tattoos himself he understands. But he does make sure you treat it right after, buys you tattoo gel, asks if it was sanitary how you got it. he does advise not get any more, or at least only maybe two more in the teen years. small ones. Simon doesn't expect you to be perfect, but he doesn't want you to be a degenerate.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Gaz is surprised at first when he sees your tattoo. He doesn't immediately scold you, asking if it is in fact a tattoo. You're honest, and tell him it is. he doesn't seem too pleased, but he isn't really mad either. He as well asks if it was sanitary, and asks if you've been treating it right. He tells you that next time you want one you can ask him to take you to a parlor.
Johnny "Soap" Mactavish
He probably hears about second hand. When he does he peeks his head in your room, asking if he can see it. He asks you if it hurt too bad, calls you a wiss if you say it hurt. Gives you a small punch on the arm, feigning anger that he wasn't there, and asks if you want to get matching ones with him. He isn't upset, and he trusts you enough to figure you keep it clean
John Price
He's disappointed. Not to a point it makes you too guilty but it still makes you feel a little pressure in your chest. He runs his thumb over the area, asks if you've kept it clean. you nod, hoping he doesn't get mad. He doesn't seem too upset. he asks if you are happy with it, before you can even reply he offers to pay for a cover up or a removal if you don't. He seems more... concerned. He's always been paternal after all. He later takes you to get some real tattoo gel, not just the unscented lotion or Neutrogena you've been using. He does ask you to not get another. at least not without asking.
