#task force141

Part 1 | Part 2

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Soap spent half the night convincing Ghost that Y/n wouldn't maul anyone and the other half convincing Price that having a wild apex hybrid in the safe house was 'great for morale.' So when he finally collapsed on his bunk, Y/n curled up against his ribs like a warm, silent predator ball, Soap just threw an arm over them and instantly knocked out.

For a while, everything stayed still. But around 02:17, Y/n's eyes opened. Their ears twitched at every sound. Their eyes glowed faintly in the dark. And their instincts whispered: Find warmth. Find the safest place. Soap was warm, sure. But Soap snored like a dying lawnmower.

Y/n silently climbed out of Soap's bed, padded across the hall on light, predator silent feet, opened another door… and slipped into Ghost's bed like they owned it. Ghost woke up because something touched him. He opened his eyes cautiously.

There was Y/n, asleep half on top of him, tail over his hip, one hand clutching the hem of his t-shirt like Ghost was their comfort blanket. Ghost stared. Hard. "…What the fuck." He muttered.

Y/n purred. The hybrid nuzzled into his collarbone.

Ghost slowly, carefully, lifted his hands like he was being held at gunpoint by a toddler. "I didn't invite this." He whispered to the darkness. He lay there, wide awake for three hours, contemplating every life choice that led to this moment.

Morning 0700AM

Soap stumbled into the kitchen, half-asleep, scratching his head. "Anyone seen Y/n? They weren't in my-" He stopped.

Ghost was sitting unusually still, staring into his coffee like it had wronged him.

Soap: "…what happened to you?"

Ghost glared at Soap. "Your creature slept in my bed."

Y/n padded out of the hallway, stretching sleepily, then walked straight past Soap.

Soap crossed his arms feeling betrayed. "I thought we had a bond!"

Price pinched the bridge of his nose. "Johnny, control your hybrid."

Soap held up his hands helplessly. "I- Cap, I swear I put 'em in my room."

Price raised a brow. "And yet Ghost woke up being used as a pillow."

Ghost growled. "I am not a pillow."

Y/n gently butted their forehead into his hip affectionately.

Ghost: "Stop that."

Soap pulls Y/n off of Ghost and really caught a whiff of their scent and physically recoiled. "Alright. Wee beastie, you're gettin' a bath."

The hybrid froze. Their ears went flat. Their tail puffed up like an angry cat. Gaz saw this and backed up immediately. "Soap. Don't do it. Don't just let them live dirty. Dirt is fine. Dirt is natural."

"No, it's not." Price said sternly, though he didn't get any closer.

Ghost just muttered. "Put it outside and let the rain do it."

Soap ignored all of them. He scooped them up and Y/n instantly went limp not relaxed, dramatically boneless, hanging from his arms like a possum pretending to be dead. Soap sighed. "Don't give me that look."

Y/n, still limp, twisted their head just enough to glare at Price.

Price nodded. "…Good luck." He made no move to help.

"I'll observe." Ghost said. "For safety."

Soap turned on the water. Y/n stiffened instantly. Their muscles bunched. Ears flattened. Tail puffed. Soap soothed. "Easy… easy now. It’s just water." He dipped a hand in to show them. "See? Not dangerous." Y/n sniffed. Soap reached toward them with warm water cupped in his hand. Y/n SHRIEKED.

Soap flinched. "OH COME ON!"

Y/n climbed up his torso like a tree, claws digging into his shirt but not piercing skin. They perched on his shoulder hissing at the tub.

Twenty minutes later: Soap was soaked, covered in scratch marks, and traumatized. Y/n was clean. Fluffy. Wrapped them in a towel burrito and carried them out proudly. Y/n peeked out, hair sticking in all directions, smelling like soap instead of 'abandoned laboratory dirt.'

Soap carried them out like a proud dad. "Clean as a whistle. Who's a good hybrid? You are~"

Price looked up from his desk. "How'd it go?"

Soap beamed. "Brilliant. Perfect. Piece of cake."

Ghost: "We all know that's a lie."

Outside the door the team heard muffled yelling: "GET BACK HERE!" "WHY IS IT CLIMBING THE WALL?!" "Quit! Fightin! Me!"

Ghost poked Y/n and slightly scratched their chin. "Feral little thing."

Y/n growled softly and hid their face in the towel, mortified but secretly pleased.

Price's Retirement Party

Price x Nikolai, Ghost x Soap

Word Count: ~1.3k

Rating: G for General Audiences.

A/N: My submission for the 141 Pride Writing Event. I got lucky enough to get the "Wedding" trope. Price and Nikolai have always been married in my mind, so I thought I'd write up what their wedding might be like. Happy Pride, everyone! 💜

AO3 | Masterlist

Part 1

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The safe house door creaked open as Soap shouldered his way inside, still holding the silent apex hybrid against his chest like a rescued puppy instead of a potential bioengineered nightmare. "Lads. I'm back."

Every head turned.

Gaz looked up first, froze mid sip of water, and coughed so hard he almost choked.

Price's chair made a 'thunk' when he stood up quickly.

Ghost was the fastest to react his hand already resting on the handle of his knife. "What." he said flatly, "Is that."

Y/n's ears twitched. Their tail swished once, slow.

Soap beamed. "Found 'em."

"Found??" Gaz stood up, backing behind the table like it was a shield. "Soap, that's not a cat. That's not a fox. That's not anything with a leash at PetSmart. What is it?"

Soap shrugs.

Price inhaled slowly, setting his maps aside with forced calm. "Sergeant."

Soap: "Aye?"

"Why." Price asked, in full Captain Mode, "Did you bring an unidentified hybrid, an apex hybrid, into my safe house?"

Soap pointed at Y/n. "They didn't bite."

"That is not-" Price pressed a palm to his forehead. "Soap, for the love of- Soap. We do not adopt everything that doesn't kill us."

Soap frowned. "Why not? Seems like a good system."

The hybrid finally lifted their head, staring directly at Price with an unblinking predator focus.

Price stared back. "…Right then." he muttered. "This is above my pay grade."

Gaz was hugging the wall at this point. "It's looking at me. Why is it looking at me? Make it stop."

"It's not an it." Soap said and took a pause. "Their name is.... Y/N!"

Ghost: "Soap don't name it."

Price’s eye twitched.

Gaz whispered. "I'm not sleeping tonight."

Ghost leaned back in his chair. "I swear to God, MacTavish. If it bites anyone-"

"It won't," Soap said confidently.

The hybrid glanced at Ghost. Ghost stared back. The hybrid slowly, deliberately, showed a single pointed canine.

Soap nodded proudly. "See? They like you."

Ghost: silently swearing behind his mask.

Price exhaled. "Johnny… feed it. Clean it. Keep it out of my paperwork. And if HQ asks-"

Soap grinned. "We didn't see nothin?"

"No." Price growled, "YOU didn't pick anything up."

Gaz muttered. "This is how horror movies start."

The hybrid stretched, settling onto Soap's lap like a smug forest dwelling gremlin who just successfully adopted him.

Soap scratched behind their ear. "Welcome to TF141, wee beastie."

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Part 1 | Part 3 |

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Soap was making his way back through the forest after clearing out an abandoned laboratory an old research files stuffed in his pack. Boots crunching over dead leaves, radio crackling softly in his ear. He was already thinking about dinner back at base and maybe bragging to Gaz about how he did everything quietly for once.

Then the woods went silent. Not peaceful quiet. Not wind stopped blowing quiet. No... predator quiet.

Then a blur launched out of the treeline. "OH bloody hell!"

The weight slammed into his chest and knocked him backward into the dirt. He instantly grabbed for his knife heart in his throat, just to realize the thing pinning him down wasn't clawing him, or biting him, or ripping out his throat.

It was just… staring at him. Wide eyes. Ears pinned sharp. Breath hot. Muscles coiled. Small. Young. But every instinct in Soap's body recognized apex predator. Whatever this hybrid was, it wasn't weak.

"…the fuck are you?" Soap whispered, eyes wide.

The hybrid didn't answer. Only blinked at him, head tilting like they were studying him… deciding whether he was edible.

Soap swallowed hard.

They just sat there in the dirt, watching him. Not scared. Not angry. Just… curious. Their tail flicked once. Ears perked forward. Not a sound.

"Alright then-" He shoved them off instinctively, rolling to his feet in a single motion, arms up, ready to fight. But the hybrid didn't attack. Didn't sink or bite into Soap More silence. Their nose twitched. A soft huff came from the hybrid.

Soap lowered his knife. He bent down, scooped the hybrid up like it was the most normal thing in the world, and slung them over his shoulder. They didn't fight, didn't protest, just relaxed against him with a soft, low growl that sounded more like a purr. "Yep. Mine now."

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Price took his coffee every morning: a mug of black coffee, two sugars, and five minutes of silence before the day began- As long as he didn't have morning wood and your moans filling the air in the room.

He would have coffee.

That is until you swapped his coffee tin for decaf. You warned him about cutting back on caffeine, but he wouldn't listen. So, when he took that first sip, his brow furrowed and his whole face contorted liked he had just tasted engine oil.

"What the bloody hell is this?" He muttered, wiping his bottom lip.

"The doctor said less caffeine." You replied, stirring your own proper coffee right beside him.

"They said cut down-" He grumbled. "Not quit."

"So, you can listen."

He stared at your cup. "You goanna drink that?"

"Yes. Am I goanna share? No."

He sighed, picked up his mug again and muttered under his breath. "Married to a terrorist."

_________

You and Price had spent the whole evening teasing each other, soft touches, lingering looks, the kind of flirting that made the air feel warm and heavy. By the time you both reached the bottom of the stairs, you tugged him closer by his shirt. "C'mon, John." you murmured. "Let's go upstairs."

He smirked, hand already on your hip as he leaned in. "Lead the way, love."

You took a step, then paused and glanced over your shoulder with a playful smile. "Did you bring protection?" You expected him to grin, maybe make a cheeky remark.

Instead, Price froze. Full stop. One foot on the first stair, one foot on the floor, staring up into the darkness like it held the secrets of the universe. Brows furrowed. Shoulders tense. "…Why?" he asked slowly. "What's up there?"

You stare at him. "John. I meant-"

He cuts you off, dead serious. "Is someone upstairs?"

You: "No.."

"A trap?" He lowers his voice, looking around. "Did you hear something?"

You: "JOHN."

He finally looks at you, confused and mildly offended. "…What?"

You sighed, pressing a hand to your forehead. "John. I meant protection… like condoms."

“…Oh. No, love. I haven’t gotten you pregnant yet." He continues, proud as hell. "I think my pull out game’s good enough."

You stare at him, horrified. He says it with the sincerity of a man who thinks he’s just given a PowerPoint presentation on safety protocols.

You: "John."

Price: "What?"

You: "That's not how-"

He waves his hand dismissively. "Been doin' fine so far."

You just stare at him because no you have NOT gotten preganent, yet. You've nearly had pregnancy scares three times. One time he prayed. One time you prayed. One time Ghost smacked him in the back of the head and told him to buy condoms like an adult.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. "John. We are going upstairs to have sex. Please tell me you didn't forget..."

He pulls you against him, kisses your cheek, and murmurs. "If anything happens… I’ll marry you again."

You: "…That's not comforting."

He shrugs, smirking much too hard. "Didn't say it was supposed to be." But before you can walk upstairs, he pauses again, squinting into the darkness. "…You sure there's nothing up there?"

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | _____________________________________________

The team has to go on a mission again and they don't want to bring Y/n along. And Y/n didn't take the news well, but orders were orders.

Y/n said, "No." with a growl.

Ghost: "It's not a debate."

Y/n's ears flattened into airplane mod. "I can handle it."

Price: "We know you can, but that's not the point."

Gaz tries to lighten it, adding on. "You'll hate the weather anyways. The sand, the heat, and terrible snacks."

Y/n looked at them with betrayal again, especially at Price.

The next morning Y/n stood at the hanger, arms crossed, watching the helicopter leave.

They left some guy to babysit, some base mechanic. All he was told was to "Keep an eye on them. They're harmless." What he was not told that they growled, lunge, stared like a predator.

"Uh... hi." Cooper greeted walking up to Y/n.

Y/n: "...."

"Cool..." He gave them space as he worked on vehicles in the hanger while Y/n sat nearby like a gargoyle.

By day two, Y/n followed him around silently while he worked on a truck. Not helping, just watching- which felt very judgmental and Cooper felt very uneasy like being observed by a cryptid. "You don't talk much, huh?"

Y/n: "....."

Cooper: "...Right."

He pulled his phone out to check something when Y/n pulled closer to see. Cooper glanced at Y/n and back at his phone. "...You want to see something stupid?" He opened a video and Y/n watches with interest. "Brian rot. Absolute garbage. I don't even know why I watch it." Cooper laughs.

Y/n seemed very interested and Cooper notices. "Wanna?" He holds out his phone.

And that's how it started...

By day three, Y/n was waiting when he arrived. Already sitting on a crate, watching him like he owed them money. Y/n held out their hand expectantly, just: 🫴

Cooper: "You're gonna rot your brain."

Hand extended, grabby motion. 🫴

"Absolutely not." He said immediately.

Y/n: 🫴

"...At least say good morning." He sighed and handed his phone over.

Y/n ignored him and went onto the app. Not even pretending to care about him now and Cooper stands there, feeling deeply used.

By day six, Cooper made a mistake by showing them livestreams. He didn't really mean to. He'd already surrendered to the short form videos. The scrolling, the endless loops of fifteen seconds nonsense. Y/n had adapted disturbingly fast. What Y/n did not understand was moderation.

By day ten, Y/n had developed random streamer slang, sudden laughter at nothing, the inability to focus longer than 15 seconds, and a concerning attachment to the phone. And every day they waited for Cooper like a debt collector.

🫴Every morning.

The next day, the team was back. Price stepped out first, scanning automatically. Ghost followed, Soap stretched his shoulders with a grunt, Gaz rolled his neck and muttered something about wanting a shower.

They expected a welcome back, someone running towards them with open arms. Instead they found Y/n in the hanger sitting crossed legged on an a crate under the work lights. Phone inches from their face, thumb flicking, scroll, scroll, scroll, scroll. A quiet, high, repetitive hum vibrated in their throat. Not distressed, just stimming. Their ears flicked occasionally, but their eyes never lifted.

Price waited for them to look up, but they didn't. "Y/n." Price called.

"Hold on." Y/n muttered to absolutely no one. "NPC just spawned."

Silence.

Ghost tilted his head slightly. "What's an NPC."

Gaz pinched the bridge of his nose. "Non-player character. Background idiot. Sir-"

Price took two more steps forward. "Y/n."

Scroll.

From the side of the hangar, Cooper froze like a man watching his own execution. He very quietly tried to step behind a truck.

Price's gaze cut to him instantly. "Mechanic."

Cooper straightened. "Sir."

"What." Price asked carefully. "Did you do?"

Cooper swallowed. "In my defense, sir, it started with short videos."

Soap made a strangled noise.

Price turned back to Y/n. "Phone."

No response.

"Y/n." Price said firmer.

Scroll. Another small hum. Rocking slightly now. Completely absorbed.

Price stepped forward and simply plucked the phone out of their hands.

The reaction was immediate. The humming stopped. Y/n's head snapped up like a predator scenting blood. "Give it back."

Price held it just out of reach. "No."

A low growl started in their chest with possessiveness.

Y/n rose slowly to their feet. "Give it back."

"You didn't greet us." Price said, voice level but edged with something colder. "Didn't look up. Didn't move."

Y/n's ears flattened slightly. "You interrupted."

Gaz looked like he might cry. "Oh it's bad."

Price's jaw tightened. "We were gone ten days."

Y/n's nostrils flared. "Chat was peaking."

Soap turned his face into his sleeve to hide a laugh.

Price didn't. "Is that what this is?" Price asked quietly. "Chat?"

Y/n shifted their weight. Irritated. Restless. Eyes flicking toward the phone like it was oxygen. "Give it back."

Price: "No."

The growl deepened.

Ghost stepped forward half a pace.

Y/n's gaze flicked to him, recalculating threat levels.

Price's voice cut through before it escalated. "That thing." He said, lifting the phone slightly. "Has replaced us."

Y/n stiffened. "It hasn't."

Price: "You didn't even see us come in."

Silence.

Price's expression wasn't angry in the loud sense. It was worse. Disappointed and very hurt. "We worked for that trust before we left." He said. "I thought we got somewhere after the incident. You let me push you. We bonded."

Y/n's ears twitched. Just slightly.

Price: "And now I come back and you can’t spare five seconds to look up."

Soap looked down at his boots and Gaz stopped smirking.

Y/n's jaw clenched. "It's not like that."

Price: "Then what is it like?"

Silence stretched.

Y/n's hands flexed once. That restless, twitchy energy building without the scrolling to bleed it off. "Give it back." They said again, but it sounded weaker now.

Price shook his head. "You'll get it back. Eventually."

Y/n: "When."

Price: "When you remember how to exist without it."

Y/n's ears flattened fully this time. "That's not fair."

Price: "What's not fair is walking into my own base and feeling less important than a rectangle."

Silence.

Price: "No phone for the rest of the week."

Gaz whispered. "Oh, that's devastating."

Y/n stared at Price like he'd struck them. "A week?"

Price: "You've had ten days."

Y/n: "That's not the same!"

Price: "You growled at me."

Y/n faltered feeling very guilty.

Price stepped closer. "I will not compete with a device for your attention."

The hangar felt very quiet.

Y/n stood there, ears flat, chest tight. Their hands twitched without the phone in them fingers rubbing together, then flexing, then rubbing again. Y/n swallowed. "It's not-" They stopped. Started again. "It's not like you weren't important."

Price's voice stayed calm. Too calm. "That's how it felt."

The stimming came back softer this time. A small hum in their throat. Rocking slightly on their heels. The absence of the phone made it louder, more noticeable. It wasn't aggression now. It was withdrawal.

Gaz leaned toward Soap and whispered. "It's like watching someone quit caffeine."

Price exhaled slowly through his nose.

He looked back at Y/n. "Did you miss us?"

The question cut through everything.

Y/n froze and stopped humming. "…Yes." It came out small. Honest.

Price's shoulders shifted just slightly. "Then why didn't you look up?"

Y/n stayed very quiet.

When Price didn't receive an answer, he took Y/n to his office for punishment.

The door shut with a solid click.

Price: "Sit."

Y/n didn't argue. They dropped into the chair stiffly, hands twitching against their thighs.

Price opened a drawer. Pulled out a pencil. Then a blank legal pad. He placed both in front of them. "Write."

Y/n stared at him. "What?"

"You don't get the phone." Price folded his arms. "So you get this."

They looked down at the pencil like it was an insult. "I don't-"

He sat down across from them. "Stream it. Narrate it. Draw it. I don't care. But you don't get the phone back."

Y/n: "I don't know how to write."

Price: "Then how were you reading things on the phone?"

Y/n: "I wasn't. I was watching."

Price leaned back slowly. "You can't read."

Y/n shrugged like it didn't matter.

Something in Price's expression shifted. Less angry now and more… processing.

________________________________________________ Part 20 |

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