#task force x reader

"I'm hungry," you said in a flat tone. It was just a passing comment. Nothing serious.

​"Hungry? What do you want to eat, dove?" Soap took out his phone, waiting patiently for you to say what you wanted.

​"Oh. Em, I was joking..." you whispered. Maybe you weren't, but you were too shy to admit it.

​"Come on, bird, tell us what you want," Price looked at you with a little smile on his face.

​"Sushi..." You turned your head, trying to avoid their eyes.

​"Sushi it is." Soap started to search his phone for the nearest sushi restaurant.

​"Fuck, my room door is stuck and won't close. I need to fix it. Where's the toolbox?" you said, entering the common room and waiting for an answer.

​"Are you fixing it by yourself?" Gaz asked, raising an eyebrow.

​"Yeah?"

​"Hell no." He stood up from the couch, grabbed the toolbox from one of the cabinets, and walked out of the room.

​Thankfully, your door ended up looking like nothing had ever happened. Thanks, Gaz.

​This was your third lap running around the base.

​"Soldier, stop right there," you heard Ghost shout at you, and you obeyed instantly. "Your laces are untied."

​"Oh, yeah, I will—" You were cut off abruptly in the middle of your sentence, watching in shock as Ghost knelt down in front of you, tying your shoelaces.

​"There you go. Watch out next time," he said, looking at you flatly before standing back up.

​A meeting at 7:00 AM? Boring. But you had no choice. You were just about to put your hand on the doorknob when another hand stopped you. Price opened the door.

​"Ladies first." He stepped aside to let you go first.

—price when you banish him to the couch, he could be one of two ways—mature and forces you to talk it out nicely or toxic, flat out refuses, and fucks you back to your senses. the first way, when the words spill from your mouth, his shoulders slumped with dejection as he steps from the room. no point in arguing when you're worked up. after stewing in your anger for thirty or so minutes, he returns—armed with food—and talks it out with you. the other way, he flat out refuses to sleep on the couch. i could see him manipulating you with the "I paid for that bed, and I'll sleep in it." you're stubborn, muttering something about you sleeping on the couch then, which is how you end up getting your brains fucked out.

—soap I imagine soap just pushed your buttons way too much that day. you know how he is sometimes—over the top, hyper, and an all-around instigator. he was looking for a reaction, and he found it—just not the one he wanted. immediately pouts, acting like a dejected child before he goes on to try and convince you to change your mind. real annoying about it too, doesn't give up until you're at your breaking point.

—kyle the only one that I see actually accept his banishment with stride. he knows he made you upset, respects the boundary you placed with him and doesn't take it to heart. there's also a big possibility that, by the end of the night, you end up talking it out anyways like mature adults. he knows you needed to get it out of your system, and you serving punishment to him did just that.

—simon the second the words leave your mouth, he shuts down. you see the moment he deflates, doesn't try to reconcile, and just accepts it. he doesn't want to upset you further or make you more mad than you already are. simon doesn't respond well to domestic conflict. the second his back hits the cushions? he's tossing and turning. he barely fits the couch to begin with, and you both learn you need each other to sleep—bonded like a pair of cats.

innocence never stood a chance against their doubt...

part one two

imagine the task force 141 falsely accusing you of being a traitor to the team.

knowing your biggest fear, they use it against you.

water.

water, where your feet can't touch the ground.

water you can't see through.

at first it started with waterboarding. then slowly but surely they threatened to drop you into the pool. into the dark, deep pool.

even john, who was like a father to you before, didn't help you. no. not at all. actually, he was the one who stepped into the water fully clothed, dragging your crying and squirming form with him into the bloodcurling liquid.

your tears blended in with it while you we're screaming, practically begging that you were the wrong one. that you'd never do something like that. but they just stood at the edge of the pool, watching their captain almost drowning your terrified self.

how would they react, when they get the information that you really weren't the one...?

But after a mission, Ghost finds you collapsed on the floor in an empty building— Crying. He’d never seen you do that before, but he knew you were a softer more sensitive soul, you were just good at hiding it.

He was moving before he realised it, crouching down in front of you, eyes narrowed as he tried to find your gaze that was lost in a heap of warm tears. His hands got clammy and his throat dry because how could he make it stop? It was like the sight had reached in and seized a part of him long gone, maybe one he’d never found before now.

“Stop crying.” He said foolishly, but his tone had lost its usual edge, and the very rare lilt of pleading had laced into his voice. Why did he suddenly grab your shoulders and press your trembling body into his? He had no clue but he wanted to shield you from whatever had made you look so vulnerable before him.

A part of him didn’t like seeing this, didn’t recognise the garbled sound of soft sobs, the way your body’s strength seemed to evaporate into a fragile, soft one that he wanted to pick up and put back together. Another part of him was sucking in this moment, afraid it would get lost and maybe feeling a bit guilty about it. But this feeling of… was it protection? Protection, yes. He’d never had it like this before. Usually, protecting means killing and hurting. Right now it meant nurturing as your small hands reached around his neck and you curled into him. He reacted immediately, sitting down and scooping you into his lap.

He closed his eyes, his chin resting on your head with a sigh. He had no idea what came next. This had to change your dynamic in some way because he couldn’t ever look at you the same. He saw your softness and maybe he fell in love with it right there, and wanted to be the one you showed it to. Only him.

“Im sorry” You whispered into his chest. His hands flexed around you, fighting the urge to smother you even more against him.

“Dont say that. Just keep holding onto me.” His voice was more hoarse than usual as his fingers unconsciously combed through your hair.

Whatever had happened, he was sure you felt it too, or you would’ve never let him this close. And he wished for everything you would let him again one day.

summary: how the boys react when they see your dried up tears littering the letters you send from oceans away

warnings: lowkey just sad, they’re all obsessed and heartbroken. very fluffy

simon “ghost” riley

he notices immediately, brushes his fingers over the wrinkled paper. feels his heart break and swell all at once. he misses you terribly, and it’s killing him that you miss him enough to cry about it but—he’s never felt this loved before. he can’t help but imagine you back at home, curled into one of his hoodies on your shared bed, shedding tears for him. he’s never deemed himself worth much, let alone your pretty tears. he uses the letter as motivation to make it back home to you.

you aren’t even a soldier- just a medic who happened to be around when 141 needed help. patching up their captain was more than nerve wrecking- his lieutenant and two sergeants looming over you asking about his status. but john could care less about his team at the moment— you looked like an angel. patching him up so sweetly, so mindful of how he was feeling.

and if anything, john price likes to keep his scores even- you help him out he helps you out.

“so good f’me, love. always so good” and you look just as good as he first saw you; lip between your teeth, unwilling to let too many people know how good his cock feels pounding into you. “patchn’ me up so well, takin’ my cock like you were made f’it”