You were a huge foodie, and given that you work in the military, you often end up with a complaining stomach that occasionally (and very embarrassingly) disrupts your meetings with the team
Gaz jokes that they need to feed the "blackhole" before it starts absorbing everything else as food
Ghost constantly brings you little snacks, food and drinks to sate your hunger, and you always thank him with a groan at the sight of his peace offerings
"Oh, Ghost you're a life saver." You begin devouring the little treat and add, "I could kiss you."
Unbeknownst to you, Ghost has been bringing you food now not only because you were hungry, but because he would be on the receiving end of your hunger-induced affections
"Fuck, I could kiss you right now."
"God, thank you, you feed me SO well."
"Yes! I love you I love you I love you-"
"My precious sir has brought the GOODS."
"I'm going to kiss you til you drop."
"Thank you, you're actually an angel."
The groans of delight you emmit with your mouth full of food does nothing to aid the liquid numbness that flows into his limbs, and he finds that he has to clench and unclench his fists to gain his ground
There have been several instances where you were a little more explicit with your words, causing him to pause or slow down slightly
"Oh fuck me, Ghost, you're a godsend."
He stalls at your choice of words
" ... You're welcome."
Once, you missed on the promotion that was happening at an Indian restaurant outside the base, and you were distraught that you did not get to buy anything before the promotion ended
Ghost enters your office later that evening with a murtabak and you nearly pounce him
"YOU GOT ME A MURTABAK? I love you so much I could kiss you."
He holds the food away from you as he stills for a moment, and you look at him in confusion
"Alright."
"What?"
He lifts the bottom of his mask and presses a chaste kiss to your lips, presses the food into your hands and leaves the room
As he walked back to his bunk, he reached for his mouth from under the mask where he could feel a small curve forming, savouring the slight colour that you bore upon your face
You now stood in your office in the same spot where he left you, feeling hungry, confused, and slightly warm and tingly from the place where your lips met
Of all the members in your task force, you were the least experienced. Knowing that you have a long way to go, you appear extremely serious even in less tense situations. Hence, jokes tend to fly over your head during some of your bonding moments.
Perhaps you smiled and joked a little less, but you did handle everything with great tenacity. Yes, you were a good soldier. However, you have also made the rest of your team slightly concerned for your psyche.
If even Johnny's jokes fail to reach you, then you needed a serious intervention.
The team decided to switch up their tactics with you. Done after a meeting? We're getting ice-cream. You're free in the evening? Let's watch football. You're going to the gym? You need a spotter, let's all go to the gym.
Regardless of all their efforts, there was still a sense of divide from you. At this point, they think you just needed a bit more time to get used to them because they can clearly see you struggling to bring your walls down.
The surprise came when they were on a returning flight to their home base after a strenuous operation in the Alps. Said task had left you frozen, hungry and tuckered out. The whole team remained silent for the first 30 minutes of the ride, and suddenly, Captain Price felt a pressure leaning into his lateral.
All of the 141 members ogled at your sleeping form as you tucked yourself deeper into the captain's side, clearly drawn into his warmth after staying too long out in the cold. They watched as your stiff, pale fingers latch onto the crevices of his vest.
Johnny and Gaz saved multiple photos of you and the captain, and Ghost secretly took a few himself.
You were a consummate professional through and through.
That is, until you slipped up.
Ghost, Gaz and Johnny would tease you for curling up against your Captain during the flight home, and they would press further when you refused to make eye contact out of embarrassment.
You would look on in horror as Gaz described the way you clung onto his vest. Ghost, who decides to mess with you a little, said that 'you even rubbed your face into his chest'.
With all the open teasing, they felt a mild sense of satisfaction when you bit back indignantly, telling them that it was cold, and that you did not do what Ghost says you did (not that you were aware of).
The captain, who was rather amused, did not seem to mind one bit and listened as the four of you went back and forth on what exactly happened during that flight.
The second time you did it was after having gone to the gym.
You, Johnny and Gaz were done with all your sets and took turns to use the shower. The boys had let you go first, followed by Johnny. And by the time Gaz came out of the shower, he stopped short in his tracks.
There you were, pidgeon-toed and pressed cheek-first into Johnny's bicep, almost ready to slide off the bench you were waiting on.
They couldn't decide if they wanted to wake you, prank you or tease you with blackmail afterwards.
They whipped out their phones without hesitation.
By the time they were done, they took enough pictures to fill a photo album.
After backing up their 'data', Johnny moved to keep his towel in his duffel bag and accidentally let your head hit the wall behind you.
"Ah, shite! M'sorry, bub-"
You propped yourself up groggily with your eyes closed and your nose scrunched. Gaz snorted at your expression while Johnny belted out heaps of laughter before grabbing your arm to sit you up properly.
"Och, look at ye, ah dinnae ken ye'd snuggle up ta a'body when yer pure done in-"
Johnny halted when you fell forward as his grip loosened, snuggling right into his chest and falling back into slumber.
That night, Simon and Price received an inordinate amount of images of Johnny, posing with your dozing self hanging off his torso.
Their responses were 'nice backpack' and 'bring our koala back safe' respectively.
The mission was rough, one that pulled you under and dragged your bloodied knees through dirt and gravel.
It was a ground search and rescue operation which lasted for weeks on end, and one which tested the limits of the human body, bending your sanity to the brink of a clean snap.
The streets were coloured in violence, and the grounds were a tangle of rubble, vehicle parts and severed bodies.
Wherever you stepped, there would lay a limb or a head, of which you could no longer tell if they belonged to an enemy or hostage. It no longer mattered, not when your boots must travel the roads of a thousand stripped souls.
You saved several hostages from the scene, but there was one that you know would haunt you til the end of your days.
It was a little girl. Small, young, with her favourite doll that was caked with remnants of dirt and coagulated blood, the latter of which should never have made its mark upon such a pure soul.
You had to coax her to climb down from the roof, to bring her to safety, and you had failed to realise that you were not the only one to notice the child.
A bullet tore through her chest, and another through her side, bringing her down from the roof, soft and limp into your arms.
Not every hostage can be saved. Not every enemy will be found. Ghost, who buried the young girl you in the aftermath, had watched you ruin every unfriendly sight with a fury unmatched.
He witnessed the angry flames that swallowed up every dead man as you pulled them straight down to hell with you.
Your body had moved blindly when you heard the roaring sound of your captain's orders to return to the plane.
Gaz was adjacent to you, resting quietly while Johnny sat on your other side, watching you carefully; you refused to look at him, knowing that his eyes would look right through you.
The captain said nothing, and Ghost, who propped himself opposite to where you were, was unreadable.
There was no banter, no questions, and only a silent prayer remained.
You cannot remember whose hands have rested on your arms or shoulders in an attempt to calm you; all you recall was the chill and bile that rised from within you. You could not remember the debriefing that felt like seconds but passed like hours.
You could not remember how you got back. Not how you got into your fresh clothes, not how your wounds — once bloody and inflamed — were now patched, and not how you found yourself standing at Ghost's door, waiting.
Why were you there? What were you waiting for? And as soon as the question arose, the answer made itself clear; because of all people, he would know.
As if sensing a presence, the room opened with a click, and Ghost appeared in the doorway, taking a moment to register your presence. He moved to one side. Stepping in silently, the door closed shut behind you, enclosing you in a box of white noise.
He stood before you, saying nothing. He did not need to say anything. In fact, he need not even ask. He simply knew.
"You did what you could."
The reality of his words were a dagger to your beating chest. You lived. You lived, and you were grateful. But you lived at a cost, with the price of blood on your hands.
You took one step. Then another. And Ghost, who did not anticipate what you were about to do, stilled as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight.
Fingers tangled tight into the fabric of his shirt, and you press your face deep into his body, seeking — begging — for a reprieve. The darkness was a comfort. He was a comfort.
For once, you want to feel a life that you can hold in your hands, that will not disappear under your touch, that is living and breathing. To hear the heartbeat of a soul, to get rid of the memory of cold, colourless skin that rest unmoving against your arms.
"Breathe, cub."
You could not move. You did not want to move. You cannot bear to move. Not an inch, not away from him who you knew understood better than anybody. His hands were placed on your back. Warm. Alive.
There were no use for words as both of you held each other in silence, resting in the comfort of a feeling near-forgotten.
That was your last memory of that night before you knocked out cold, and in your sleep you dreamt of a hand that wiped the warm corners of your eyes, rough yet gentle.
Unbeknownst to you, a storm in Ghost had calmed when you chose him of all people to seek comfort in, and silently grateful he was for the team to have a most sensitive heart on board.
You were the most affectionate person of the 141, and you cared and loved unconditionally. Those qualities made you the most lethal one of them all, for despite any rankings or titles, you commandeered them all with a piece of your heart — and the day your heart dies is the day they raise hell in your name.
Ghost likely has only hugged the captain once or twice and Johnny, several times but not of his own volition.
Your heart reminds him of his better days with his brother Tommy and it makes him want to punch you (cuteness aggression), but he will take that knowledge to his grave.
You had half the mind to dig yourself a grave and jump in with all the other skeletons in your closet. Over the last two weeks, you have been christened 'cuddle bug', 'koala', and now 'cub'.
After the first two times you had let yourself be that vulnerable before your team, Johnny would consistently open up his arms and wiggle his brows at you, offering himself up as a body pillow for you to cuddle. You turned him down to his mild disappointment, but the teasing does not stop.
Whenever the Captain was silent with fury, Gaz would come up behind you and go, "how 'bout you give him a hug? I bet he'd be in less of a mood after that."
And when you sparred with Ghost, he'd tell you, "don't go falling asleep on me now, cub."
The jibing died down after a while until all of you went to a pub to watch a game after a mission, and all of you sat on the bar stools.
You were following the game just fine from the telly, and being able to enjoy yourself for the first time in a while, you decided that a having little more to drink would be safe.
Deeper into the game, Ghost, Gaz and Price had sat themselves in a rounded booth seat while you remained with Johnny at the stools by the bartender, ordering more cocktails and beer.
Now, the 141 were glad that you trusted them enough to drink with them, but they had not anticipated for you to reveal that night that you were an affectionate drunk.
They were initially under the impression that you were a sleepy drunk, until you slid off the bar seat and shuffled yourself onto Gaz's side of the couch, proceeding to wrap your arms around his stomach with your legs splaying out under the table. And there you rest, with your forehead resting on the edge of his shoulder
"Ah shite, sorry Cap, I thought the bugger looked o'lrighte."
"I thought our sergeant was sleeping at the bar?"
"Well, yes, ah mean no. Ah was messin' with the bugger when ah said ter give Gaz some love, how's ah supposed ter know it'd work?"
"I'm fine Captain", you mumbled into Gaz's shoulder.
"Think the cub's tellin' the truth," Ghost teased from behind his glass of beer. "I think Gaz could use a tighter hug, eh?" He added, and Gaz shot him an exasperated look.
"Ghost, please- Bug? Oh no, wait, hey-"
Too late. You have clumsily but somehow very quickly rearranged your limbs, and in a tangle of arms and feet, you end up with your legs on either side of his lap and your hands reaching around his wide shoulders as best as you could.
"Ghost." He grumbles, resigned, letting you sleep comfortably into his red, cotton Henley. Johnny pulled out his phone and began collecting evidence. "Johnny." Gaz berated with a pointed look, but that was not about to stop him. In fact, the Captain joined in on the blackmail.
"Price," he sighed, now victim to the onslaught of three blackmailers and one very comfortable cuddle bug.
Inspired by Sanji's first point in Football at Thousand Sunny. :-)
If there was a way for me to send this directly to Harubo I would because this fantastic writer has helped me tap into my imagination for the first time in a LONG time. :'>
Do not repost, please, reblogs and comments are welcome ~~
A/N: My my, so sorry for the late response it has been a hectic semester. Here goes nothing and I hope you enjoy it! :-)
[No beta we die like McTavish.]
TACTICAL CUDDLEBUG HEADCANONS
Despite their many years in the military, which meant few surprises for the team, you were still something they marvelled at when they think about you as an addition
You were a refreshing breeze to the stale air of their grey compound, and you began to rub off on them
Across the list of military personnel which they have met, you were the most "small"
By no means were you miniscule, but to them you just felt different
Most soldiers have a hard shell and an even harder personality, but you had a tough shell with a "squishy heart", according to Johnny
This observation led to various responses, such as a heavy urge to pat you on the arm, back or head
Johnny was quick to lean into it, even going as far as to squish your cheeks, enjoying your presence and damn near treating you like his favourite teddy bear
Once you joined him in his bunk to help with his crossword puzzle and he pulled invited you onto his blankets for better comfort, and Simon, who came to remind him of a briefing, walked back out the door the moment he opened it
Gaz was second to come to terms with enjoying the physical contact, and he loves to nudge you in the side and give you a side hug like a brother would
On his best days he would sit on the couch with you and read together, each of you on one end of the couch with your legs stacked comfortably like pick-up sticks
Price's affections came few but not rare, and somehow his eyes seemed a little brighter after a few pats your head, tucking away the memory of watching you lean into his hand
His hugs are the best when you bid him goodbye when either of you have separate ops to take on, and the warmth you get from his soul-crushing hugs are another high
Simon would engage with you more than Johnny if not for the fact that he was conflicted
He already hangs around you more than Gaz or Price which speaks plenty for itself
He was quiet and mostly helpless against this odd feeling of needing to be in physical contact with you, thus he cannot help but do it albeit he does so stiffly or roughly
He will needlessly grab your vest and aggressively tighten it "for your safety", followed by a heavy tap on your helmet before everyone settles into the flight
Johnny tells you during the ride that Simon cannot handle the fact that he is facing cuteness aggression and that he has caught Simon several times clenching his fist when he sees your mess of a collar to keep from fixing it
He was not quiet enough and received a hefty smack on the back of his heavy duty headgear from the man he mentioned
You think that they are all either as cuddly as they say you are, or that they are simply extremely touch starved people, for whom you have opened the floodgates to affection
The truth is, every single member of the team are cuddlebugs, but it has become a silent agreement that the title goes to and remains upon you alone.
[Slaps beak.] This duck can write some serious fluff.
MY MASTERLIST
A/N: I tend to not include gender or race in my writings for a more immersive experience. Anything that is unhighlighted or is without a link suggests that the fanfiction is still in the works. Stay tuned for more! :-)
CALL OF DUTY
General Headcanons
Soft Intimacy — TF141 / König / Los Vaqueros
| What intimacy looks like with the COD boys.
Tactical Cuddle Bug — TF141 [ 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 ]
| The most serious member of the 141 is secretly a very affectionate person.
Simon 'Ghost' Riley
The Rumoured Casper's Honey Bee [ 1 / 2 ]
| Simon "Ghost" Riley, who has grown accustomed to you, wants your medical attention and his regular checkup.
X-MEN
Wolverine / James 'Logan' Howlett
Cohiba de la Mente
| You disliked Logan for a good number of reasons. He was brash, abrasive and quick to bite the lure — and for the first time as a counsellor of the school, you took the bait.
Heart on the Sleeve, Love for the Beast
| Your generally affectionate nature, which has earned yourself the nickname 'Teddy', lures the attention of a certain hard-headed man.
Kitty Cats Don't Grow Mutton Chops
| A tale in which Howlett dishes what he cannot handle.
Мой Котëнок
| Logan Howlett spoke more languages than you realised, and horror dawns upon you as you realise it meant he understood everything.
Grouchy with a Side of Sweetness
| Logan has the funniest ways of showing that he cares.
SPIDER-VERSE
Miguel O'hara
Professions Unto the Masquerade [PUTM]
| You were recruited for your ability to capture a Chameleon variant that was immune to all spiders' abilities. Except yours. Miguel inducts you into the team, but you know that the induction was but a formality for his other intentions with you.
