How to perpetrate and sabotage your own kidnapping: A guide for dummies.
- The creation of the board (and its subsequent discovery)
Summary: Step One: host a brainstorming session with your teammates on how best to kidnap your future abductee. Step Two: have said abductee show up half an hour into the session and begin correcting your entire plan. Step Three: realise at the beginning of their impromptu presentation the target has absolutely no idea that they’re the target. Step Four: fail anyway.
Pairing: Dark!Poly!Task Force 141 x fem!Reader
Word count: 1.8k
Content tags: Dark content - Discussions around kidnapping, tense situations. If this is not your cup of tea, please go and find something different might better suited your palate. This is an 18+ fic meaning minors do not interact with this work. No one has permission from me to repost, copy or translate my work. No one has my permission to put my work into any AI source.
Notes: This is my first foray into the COD fandom and will be the first part in a dark comedy series. Please let me know what you think. Not proofread very well, sorry for any mistakes! Thanks for the motivation @live-love-be-unique !
Link to Task Force 141 masterlist / Link to COD masterlist
Captain John Price likes to think he knows his men well enough to trust them when his back is turned. Now that itself doesn’t necessarily mean knowing each and every one of their dirty secrets - he definitely wouldn’t come out smelling like fresh daisies if any number of his were revealed - but it does mean that he has the awareness to recognise that they all share one particular secret.
He sees it in the way Lieutenant Riley’s body language shifts when you give him his medical forms to look over, your consideration at offering him the option to disclose only certain personal information making the reserved soldier relax just enough to offer you a low thanks, accompanied with a stare that stretches on for a few moments longer than considered socially polite.
It’s also so amazingly obvious with Sergeant MacTavish. John’s surprised everyone else misses the way Soap’s smile takes a little longer to fade after departing for yet another mission, your swift congratulations on completing yet another physiotherapy appointment - “ Keep it up the good work big guy” - leaving the Scotsman floating on cloud nine damn near until the plane lands.
And how could he forget Sergeant Garrick? The man’s quick to change his tune and focus up, but the captain has observed Kyle absentmindedly rubbing his shoulder, thumb gingerly stroking the spot where your palm was only moments before, your figure long gone as you retreat down the corridor to where you came from.
No, Jonathan Price doesn’t miss a thing about his men. And it only takes two weeks and a long chat in the corner booth of the bar one quiet night - sans you or Laswell - before somehow his place becomes the meeting point for an unusual, though not unwelcome, topic - you.
More specifically, how to keep you.
The wooden shit box of a sports bar was where the first two facts were confirmed amongst them: 1. Every single one of the 141 men wanted you for themselves, but they weren’t above sharing. 2. You weren’t worth killing each other over, not when there was a much easier solution staring them in the face.
John’s house became the go-to place to discuss fact number three - They needed a plan.
It was Gaz who initially suggested the whiteboard after numerous interjections from Ghost and John; from everything to how to keep this from Laswell, to deciding which of your usual hangouts would provide them with the best opportunity to commence your “relocation”, to how to delicately but firmly explain said "relocation" to you once it was complete. Kyle loves his brothers in arms and never regrets a moment where his life is on the line if it means saving any one of them, but his patience began to wear thin when Soap got bored and started using goddamn paper planes instead of words to get his point across. At that Price finally relented and bought the damn thing.
Now, John was expecting you to pop by his place on Wednesday night to drop some papers off. A perfect opportunity, were it not for the fact that the gentlemen were still disagreeing on where to relocate you. However, it’ll allow you to grow more comfortable with him while he has some alone time with you, your presence like a balm on a wound - soothing and necessary (at least to him).
He had been looking forward to seeing you… tomorrow. So when you turn up not just on the doorstep but in the middle of the bloody hallway in his own bloody home halfway through the 141 “guys night”, his secondary action of shitting bricks quickly overrides his primary instinct to eliminate the threat.
He’s on his way back from the bathroom when he sees you standing, familiar folders firm in your grasp - fucking hell, is that his spare key too? - and a sour expression on your pretty face.
Your eyes narrow further when you spot him, striding over with fury rolling off you in small waves. “Captain Price, I know you did not leave these dossiers on my desk just before the end of my work day with a note stating they all need to be completed by the end of the work day.”
John’s senses are briefly overwhelmed by you being so close to him, the sight of you angry having a different effect on him than what you had originally intended. He’s never seen it before, and his hand twitches when you’re less than a foot away - fluctuating adrenaline or the desire to reach out and hold you, he’s not sure which is more prevalent.
He always forgets to not be so obvious around you, but it isn’t as though you usually notice. (He’s not sure if the thought should make him feel sad or grateful.)
The sounds of his men arguing in the background, merely the next room over, are enough to bring reality crashing down hard.
His voice is deliberately loud and stalwart when replies. “You can’t be here.”
“Tough shit. Your lads night can wait.” You lean past him to the origin of what your gut was telling you was the sounds of the remaining 141 members quarreling. It’s easy to slip past Captain Price once your mind is set, the push of files against his chest preventing him from reacting for a few seconds - all the time you need to move down the hallway to where everyone else is bound to be.
John is quick to rush behind you, the arguing noises having swiftly changed to near cartoon-like crashes just moments before you enter the room.
Ghost has migrated to the corner of the sitting area, standing as stiff as a fucking nutcracker, a mountain of crumpled notes and paper planes spilling out from between his arms. (His mask is still on thank god because it’ll hide exactly how caught out he feels, and if there’s one thing Simon Riley cannot stand it’s feeling like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar). His eyes instinctually watch your every move, waiting for your reaction.
Both of your gazes drift to the other side of the room, with neither of you failing to notice how the couch cushions are strewn widely across the space, (with one being stuck on top of a bookshelf for some odd reason) to find not one, but two soldiers gecko’d to the standing whiteboard.
Their demolitions expert is currently splayed out on the left side of the board and desperately grabbing the top of its metal frame, his stomach pressed into the cold porcelain and a left leg hitched up in a poor attempt to conceal the incriminating writing.
Price’s protégé is in a similar state. Dear Gaz has his back against the right side, with his arms outstretched to - much like Johnny - cover as much of their group planning as possible, a coloured marker clasped in each fist.
Two deers in headlights.
The sight of his task force is enough to bring back flashbacks of his original conversation with Kate about bringing these men together because Jesus H. Christ, what the fuck was he thinking?
There are a few moments when nobody moves or dares to breathe…
… except for you, of course.
You waste no time walking over to the two youngest members of the 141 as you attempt to shove them off the board. “Move,” you demand, palms pushing firmly against their sides. “I want to know what’s so important to everyone.” When they refuse, you do your best to stare at them, pleading with a pleasantly soft, “Please.”
Yeah, they both do what you say with ease when they hear that, giving you enough space to take in the somewhat smudged scribbles.
You miss the signal John gives Simon, the Ghost moving closer to your position as John quietly locks the door, and when your attention is drawn back to the board after the other two move you also miss all of the knowing looks shared behind your back. This was very far from ideal, but how can they recover from this?
They hope you understand that whatever comes next, they didn’t plan for it to start this way.
Kyle and John call your name but you ignore them, still processing the information written in front of you.
Johnny flexes his hands, preparing for the worst as you step back and say, “This is… bullshit.”
Every single member stops. That was not the reaction they were expecting.
Turning to face the group, you scoff. “I’m not even kidding. Firstly, you’re using guys' night to work, which is horrible for your mental and emotional health. And you should all know better.”
Four sets of brows furrow in united confusion. You don’t let that deter you from continuing, your arms gesturing haphazardly at the whiteboard. “Secondly, this is hands-down one of the worst brainstorms I have ever seen. This is not cohesive in the fucking slightest. Garrick, mark me.”
Kyle chokes on his spit, his brain short-circuiting before he sees your fingers wiggling at one of the markers he’s holding. The sergeant promptly gives it to you.
Your free hand takes turns pointing at everyone else in the room, a verbal command of, “sit down” directed at each man also. Dumbly and cautiously they all do. Ghost places himself at the end of the couch nearest the entrance, John strategically chooses a spot between yourself and the kitchen, and Soap and Gaz sit closest to you, where the two of them can hear you muttering under your breath as you draw what appears to be a massive cloud shape in the middle of the board.
Once completed, you fill your shape in with the word ‘TARGET’ and slam your free hand against the board. No one flinches, but if one were to look closely there would be some eyes widening in response. Johnny swears he sees one of your eyelids twitch.
“So,” you call out, “what do we know about the target?”
There are not only wide eyes looking at you, there are full glances exchanged between your audience.
“Seeing as you had the nerve to not invite me in your little meeting while keeping me on overtime” - Kyle and John squirm at that, and your finger makes a little circle - “we are going to be working on this project together. With all due respect, I’m not asking.”
Surely not…
And it’s when Captain John Price reviews the writing left over from the others that he realises Kyle and Johnny did one thing right during their clusterfuck of a coverup.
They managed to erase your name.
… you have absolutely no idea you are the target.
A piece of writing far in the coroner catches your attention, and your shoulders slump. “The target likes knitting and ‘The Karate Kid’. In another life we would have been the best of friends.” A dramatic sigh leaves you, “Oh well, at least I’ll be able to give you some insight into the mindset of this individual. Any questions?”
Four hands shoot up.
Rubbing your hands together with glee, a maniac smile grows on your face. “Excellent.”
How to perpetrate and sabotage your own kidnapping: A guide for dummies.
Step One: host a brainstorming session with your teammates on how best to kidnap your future abductee. Step Two: have said abductee show up half an hour into the session and begin correcting your entire plan. Step Three: realise at the beginning of their impromptu presentation the target has absolutely no idea that they’re the target. Step Four: fail anyway.
Pairing: Dark!Poly!141 x Fem!Reader
General content tags: Dark content - Discussions around kidnapping, tense situations. If this is not your cup of tea, please go and find something different might better suited your palate. This is an 18+ fic list, meaning minors do not interact with this work. No one has permission from me to repost, copy or translate any of my works. No one has my permission to put my works into any AI source.
Link to original masterlist here
The creation of the board (and its subsequent discovery)
Loving How to perpetrate and sabotage your own kidnapping: A guide for dummies so far! Will the reader turn the guys against each other when they figure out what’s going on?
Oh, you betcha. It would be an intrusive ‘what if’ thought that gets that ball rolling.
You’re sitting on the couch when you feel it: the lightbulb sensation of an epiphany invading your current daydream.
110% you “break into” John Price’s place again to review the whiteboard because a certain captain forgot to ask for the spare key back. It takes about nearly ten minutes of total silence and restraint before you come to the dreaded conclusion that you are the one they’re after. You stand there as your blood runs cold, your brain struggling to process what this could mean for your future and you relationship with the 141 itself. And the fact remains that you’ve been helping them learn about yourself inside and out, which means they have the advantage in this situation.
You’re quick to come to the conclusion that whole this is inevitable - with their training and unusually intimate knowledge of you, you’ve got no shot at emerging victorious and escaping their clutches. But just as you reach that conclusion the lightbulb comes back.
That doesn’t mean you can’t have fun with it. After all, you’ll eventually find out anyway, so why not fuck around?
You start to spend some one on one time with each member of the 141, telling them how they make your job much easier whenever they complete their reports on time, and how they make you feel so at ease when things get rough. Those whispers and shared touches grow until you openly admit to each guy privately that there is one certain 141 gentleman that has managed to catch your eye - but it’s not them. It’s only because they are your closest friend that you’re gushing to them about something so wonderful, but you trust them not to tell a soul because that’s what friends do right? ‘Thanks for being such a pal about this.’ You take care to mention the things that this “gentleman” does that makes you widely smile, without actually naming the man.
Each member is thoroughly put out because weren’t they doing enough to secure your affections? How have the others managed to slip their way into your heart but they haven’t?
They’re crushed for a little while until each of the men comes up with a game plan.
Gaz spends more time with you going over the reports and talking about the ops more than he should, hoping his openness and insight puts him back on your radar. This interferes with John’s plan.
John organises a small lunch nearly every day he’s on base - just you and him - so that you’ll feel comfortable telling him about this 141 member that he can’t seem to put a finger on. He doesn’t feel as sorry as he should when he has to kick Kyle out of your office, John’s need to adapt and overcome bigger than Kyle’s ego. But this interferes with Soap’s plan.
The pride wounded MacTavish offers to take you off base to go shopping for mundane things, civilian things to show that he does plan on settling down at some point, and that he can offer security in a relationship. He gets a little frustrated every time he sees his captain in your office chatting you up. But on the days where he can take you out for a short day trip, this interferes with Ghost’s plan.
Simon has a similar plan to Johnny, but Simon mentions going to the shooting range to get you away from the office and lend an ear to your frustrations, hoping you’ll drop some more hints about where he went wrong (or the others went right). It annoys him when Johnny takes you out for the afternoon when the Sergeant should be bloody working on something else - anything else, really. But when Simon does take you away, it put a damper in Gaz’s steps when he doesn’t see you in your office.
And soon it becomes a toxic and repetitive competition between the four of them. Their communication breaks down slightly, pride and ego ensuring they’re more focussed on bringing themselves into your romantic spotlight rather than talking to each other about the situation. You know this won’t last forever and they will eventually find out about your deception, but at least you can enact some contingency plans while they’re distracted.
love How to perpetrate and sabotage your own kidnapping: A guide for dummies.
What if reader was or is married. If reader was married, do you think the boys would try and copy what their previous partner did, and try to be better if reader is divorced.
Reader is married, their trying to sabotage the marriage in every pay possible, they deserve you not that idiot you married. and they won’t stop until you’re single again and ready to be theirs
Thanks! I’m terrible with compliments but I’m happy to bring you this silly black comedy of a series.
Now if reader was married, they boys would dig in to find out what happened. That board comes up a lot earlier. If your ex-partner was still alive, their information goes on the other side of the board. The guys are less concerned about them so long as they stay out of the picture. They’ll dig in about how your ex messed up the marriage because there’s no way it was you, you’re too lovely.
The problems lies with getting said information from you. It’s not exactly like they can ask you about that, but they’ll note the way your nose scrunches in a sour response to something mundane.
(One time Ghost overheard you muttering to yourself while you were going over a pile of recruitment paperwork, “He looks like he bites into bananas with the skin on. Never making that fucking mistake again.” He promptly wheels himself back to the cafeteria on base where he sees Johnny halfway through an unpeeled banana, grateful that he now finally has a decent enough excuse to tell Johnny to absolutely never do that again because fucking hell that shite should be considered a war crime.)
If you are still married, then that’s more of a problem. Your spouse remains on the other side of the board, which fills up quickly with personal information, from their first job through to their diet. Even if your partner appears infallible they will find something.
The problem is, if your partner seems like a paragon of niceness, you’re all too aware of it. And forget about bringing up something which could suggest how unhappy the 141 men are, because you - in a baffling fit of blindness - truly believe that it must be because they’re single and lonely. This you begin your crusade of blind doubles dates, so not only do each of the men have to watch you cozy up to the “supposed” love of your life, they have to let somebody down at the end of the night too.
(One time Johnny shows up with you only to find that his date is Simon. The car ride to base is very awkward for the two of them.
“Price and Garrick-”
“-are to never fucking hear about this.”
“… So we aren’t, y’know-”
“No.”
“Is it the way I eat bananas? I am capable of using less teeth, Lt.”
“Sergeant, do us a favour and shut the fuck up.”)
At the end of the day, Task Force 141 are exceptional at infiltration and will utilise their skills to ensure that no matter how small any fissure may be in your relationship, they will with time crack it open further, to the point of instability. The love you and your spouse share may withstand the test of time, but not the test of pressure that’s about to come your way.
Ghoap Masterlist (Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x fem!reader x Simon “Ghost” Riley)
- Hands to tell your tale. 𑁍 When you finally accompany your best friend to their latest tattoo appointment at 141 Studios, you never would have imagined leaving with regret… at the fact that you should have come sooner. Two of its artists agree with you, and it’s a good thing they’re more inclined to do something about it. 𑁍 (Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x fem!reader x Simon “Ghost” Riley - Ghoap x fem!Reader)
- Just us, and your friend Steve Simon. 𑁍 It initially started as a joke but no matter where the two of you go, Johnny’s friend always seems to find a way to tag along on your dates. Seriously, what’s his deal? 𑁍 (Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x fem!reader, Simon “Ghost” Riley x Johnny “Soap MacTavish, eventual Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x fem!reader x Simon “Ghost” Riley)
omg glass blower Rudy!! Tell us more please there is not enough love for this man
Gladly. We simp for Rudy on this blog, end of story. Speaking of which, here’s a little bit of his backstory.
Glass blower!Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra
Warnings: none, just fluff and slight angst
A/N: My blog (and its contents) are 18+ only. Minors DNI. Link to the Task Force 141/Los Vaqueros Artist AU masterlist here!
Rudy learned everything about glassblowing from his abuelito. The patriarch of the Parra family is a very disciplined and knowledgeable man who - when his grandson showed an interest one day by sneaking into his workshop after hours - took the time to pass on that knowledge to a young and curious Rodolfo.
Rodolfo apprenticed under his grandfather for years, building his skills and perfecting his techniques. And thought there were many occasions where Rudy wanted to give up after watching one of his creations crack, his abuelito pushed him to continue, reminding him that nothing great was ever achieved without repeated perseverance.
He noticed early on that his grandfather sometimes worked well after the workshop was closed, but it was never on a customer order. And when Rudy finally had the courage to ask him what he was working on, his grandfather would tell him sharply, “It’s for your abuela.”
And every single time, the creation was a flower.
Just one flower.
Rudy means to find his muse, the one theme or topic that most artists capture and focus on for their careers, but all he can focus on is flowers and how his grandmother’s eyes would light up every time her talented husband gifted her a glass flower - a fragile but vibrant thing of beauty that she would always cradle and cherish no matter how big or small.
The flowers are scattered around the house like fond memories; tulips, roses, marigolds and more decorated the house, casting wonderful colours whenever the sunlight hit them.
Rudy never doubts his grandfather’s devotion to his grandmother, for he had seen up close (and attempted on several occasions) the process for making such a pretty but delicate thing.
Yet Rudy quickly noticed the lack of sunflowers. He asked his grandmother about it at dinner a few years back, who grasped his shoulder gently and with a small, soft smile said simply, “The first time your abuelo saw me I was dancing through a field of sunflowers. That flower is just for us. Now eat up.”
And when he hears the senior Parra refer to his wife as ‘mi girasol’, Rodolfo begins to understand what it means to love someone to the point of creation.
At some point his grandfather asks him to take over management of the workshop and its few employees, and without hesitation he says yes.
His abuelito still pops in from time to time to make more flowers. Rudy would never dare to put a stop to that.
But every day that he puts on his leather apron, he thinks about the love his grandparents share and wonders when he will find his own girasol.
- Only one way though. 𑁍 Task Force 141 encounters an issue when they spot a member of KorTac - specifically an Austrian built like a brick shithouse - standing between them and their next target. You kindly offer to take one for the team so your fellow soldiers can finish the mission. In fact, you insist on doing so. 𑁍 (König x fem!141!Reader)
Las Almas Cartel / Los Vaqueros
- We are buried but once. 𑁍 You invite your former lovers to your first ever art exhibition - a publicly curated culmination of your belief that all good things inevitably fall to ruin. 𑁍 (former Alejandro Vargas x artist!fem!reader x Valeria Garza, former Alejandro Vargas x artist!fem!reader, former Valeria Garza x artist!fem!reader)
- Forgive me for all the things I did (and did not do). 𑁍 The last thing you ever expected the local blacksmith to do was come to your aid, especially given the reserved demeanour he had during your rare interactions. You certainly didn’t expect him to declare himself your husband, all for the sake of getting the ever persistent local knight off your back. Now you have no choice but to get to know the man behind the mask, and he can’t hide the rest of himself from you any longer. 𑁍 (Blacksmith!Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader)
- Come back, come back (the howl is just a song). 𑁍 The man with the soft smile who lives less than three miles away has always offered his services to you, and you in turn have always repaid his kindness with your own. A basket of fresh bread and cheeses, hand stitched fabrics; whatever you offered in return had always been enough. Except for the day when he says it no longer is, and that his favours require more personal sacrifices. 𑁍 (Dark!Warlock!Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x fem!Reader)
- To know all my secrets bar one. 𑁍 A tale as old as time; you grow up together, your Jonathan leaves to serve in the king’s army, he never comes back, you mourn what once was and what could have been. Many years later another tale makes the rounds in town; whispers of a strange man living deep in the woods - an unhinged hunter who’ll mark anyone for death, friend or foe. There’s a sliver of truth behind each story, but that doesn’t make the situation any less complicated when you meet the ranger that’s got everyone talking. 𑁍 (Ranger!John Price x fem!Reader)
- Both shelter and warning at once. 𑁍 For such a chaotic creature of the forest, all mischievous hedonism and no restraint (or class), Johnny finds that his fancies as of late have turned very… traditional. Those desires are cemented upon seeing you venture a little further into the dense undergrowth than expected. Perhaps if you stopped hitting him with a stick during every single one of your encounters his charm might actually do something to remedy your mutual desires. 𑁍 (Satyr!Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x fem!reader)
