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Catch up on the previous part here: Part 1 / Part 2 /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 / Part 19 / Part 20 / Part 21
COD Modern Warfare Masterlist /Taskforce 141 Masterlist /Join My Taglist
Y/f/n - your friends name
Warnings: Pettines, hurt, mentions of breakups, feelings of anger, jealousy and regret
Did Simon believe that going to the coffee shop that you worked in was a good idea?
No.
He thought the exact opposite; that it was an awful idea, which is why he’d tried to persuade Johnny from going there at all.
But Johnny was headstrong and determined that he wanted to see you; and Simon knew Johnny was going to go there with or without him, which was the only reason Simon agreed to go.
At least, that’s what he told Johnny.
He knew how hurt and angry the Scotsman was about the news of you getting married; and even if he wasn’t as vocal as Johnny, Simon was feeling a similar hurt, too.
He missed you.
He couldn’t bear it; thinking about you being with somebody else…when you should’ve been with them.
He knew why John decided what he did; believing that ending their relationship with you was for the best.
To protect you.
Simon believed it, too.
That’s why he agreed to it, why he persuaded Johnny to get on board with the idea; but that didn’t make this situation easier.
Seeing you in pain was like a bullet to the heart.
He knew you’d move on, told himself that he’d be able to handle it, but he couldn’t.
That's why he agreed with Johnny that they needed to stop this wedding from happening.
Jonny bolted out of the car and practically ran to the coffee shop, eager to see you, but when he opened the door, Simon noticed him freeze in the doorway.
He quickly came to his partner’s side, following his gaze directly to you.
Your apron was wrapped around your waist, your black shirt sleeves rolled up, as you cleaned the table in front of you with a focused attention.
You still looked the same as you did two and a half years ago, except now you weren’t fighting back tears that were clearly building in your beautiful y/e/c eyes, like you had been the last time they’d seen you.
They both watched as one of your colleagues came up behind you, distracting you from the cleaning trance you’d been in.
“Hey, I’m just gonna take a quick smoke break before you leave; can you just serve those two guys for me?”
They heard your colleague say to you.
Simon thought about walking away for a fleeting moment, but before he could decide anything; Johnny decided for him and began walking over to the counter.
The counter that you were now behind.
Simon followed Johnny over the counter; mentally preparing for the shit show that was about to play out, knowing that you probably didn’t want to see either of them.
~~~~~~
‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ you thought to yourself, watching as two more of your exes, Simon Riley and Johnny McTavish, made their way over to the counter.
“Fancy seeing you here, Bon,” Johnny smiled, his eyes locked on you; Simon was staring at you too, though his face remained neutral, avoidant of any emotion.
You wished you could say that their visit surprised you; but unlike John’s visit earlier this afternoon, you were relatively prepared for this.
You’d messaged your friend Y/f/n, as soon as John had left, ranting about the audacity he had to show up the way he did and continuously call you sweetheart like you were still together and simply had a fight.
Of course Y/f/n replied promptly with a message of, “What the fuck!! That’s so weird! I saw the Scottish guy earlier, too.”
Followed up with another message saying, “I told him how happy you are now and that you’re getting married!”
Your friends’ messages explained John’s sudden appearance at your workplace; and part of you expected the others to be visiting imminently…but you had to admit, seeing them after such a long time made you feel weird, like you were stuck in a Déjà vu loop.
“Well, I do work here,” you quipped back; the same forced smile you’d given John earlier was on your lips; but there was a bluntness to your voice now.
Johnny blinked a few times, clearly shocked by the tone of your voice; his shock seemed to disappear quickly though, replaced with an all too familiar smile on his lips.
The same smile that you’d fallen in love with all those years ago.
“What can I get for you today?” You continued, reminding yourself mentally to remain calm and professional.
You only had a few more minutes left of your shift and then you had the next few days off; meaning that all you had to do was serve them and then you’d be able to spend time with your Fiance.
“Tea for him, you know how he likes it,” Johnny began nodding over to Simon briefly before turning his eyes back to you, “And for me, surprise me, I trust ye, Bon”
You told Johnny the total; biting back a smile at the pure shock on his face as he pulled out of his wallet, paying for the drinks and then you got to work on making them.
It was true, just like you knew how to make John’s coffee, you also knew how to make Simon’s tea.
He liked a simple tea.
None of the flavoured ones like raspberry or mint, just normal English Breakfast tea, black with two sugar cubes.
Is that what you gave him?
No.
Of course not.
You instead gave him the extremely popular berry infused tea, and you did so with a smile on your face and a little wicked glint in your eyes.
Simon unbeknownst to you; noticed the look in your eyes; and sipped the drink without hesitation, saying nothing in response to the incorrectly made drink.
You did, however, notice the small smirk tugging at the side of his mouth, suggesting that he was impressed with what you had just done.
You tried to ignore the heat that was rising to your cheeks at such a small action; turning your attention to making Johnny’s drink.
He did say to surprise him.
So you did exactly that; with a drink, you he hated.
A matcha latte.
You remember when you were dating, and you brought one back from work and he nearly spat it out when he tried it.
“There you go,” you said, the smile on your lips no longer fake, instead smug as hell, “Enjoy,”
Johnny opened his mouth to say something, but thankfully, your colleague arrived back from her smoke break before he could.
“Is mister lover man picking you up today?” She asked with a light giggle in her voice.
“He is,” you beamed, before walking away from the counter and Simon and Johnny and towards the door labelled ‘STAFF ONLY’, quickly disappearing on the other side of it.
You grabbed your hoodie and bag from your locker, blurting goodbye to your colleague as you walked out of the coffee shop.
You knew Simon and Johnny were watching you; you could feel their eyes locked onto you as you made your way past them, purposefully ignoring them.
You didn’t care if they watched.
Especially not when you noticed your finances car parked outside.
You knew that, at least for the next few days; that you wouldn’t be seeing any of your exes again.
No, for the next few days all you were going to be focusing on was spending some much needed quality time with your Fiancé and wedding preparations.
That was your priority.
Thinking about the man you were going to be spending the rest of your life with.
Instead of thinking about the people that broke your heart. But you couldn’t help the brief thought that flashed through your mind; the one had haunted you for months after the breakup.
What did you do wrong for John to break up with you on behalf of himself and the others…
You quickly pushed the thought from your mind, as you got into your finances car; you’d barely even left the car park before you felt the familiar and reassuring presence of his hand resting on your thigh.
“How was your day, honey?” He asked warmly, his south Texan accent filling your ears, making you feel at ease instantly as you placed your hand over his, interlocking your fingers.
Warnings: none, be prepared for teeth rotting, sweet fluff. We believe in Santa on this page. This is primarily center around our dear Capt. Price because seeing him as a father figure would cure my woes. This is not proof read and I just woke up so have fun ❄️🎶🎄
Word Count: 1.29K
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The stocking were hung by the chimney with care in hopes that St.Nicholas soon would be there.
Little hands eagerly worked at a red pen and delicate paper, smoothing out wrinkles. Fingers grazed papyrus with ease and little barefeet barely brushed against the cold floor. Brows knitted in concentration as the wee babe bite their tongue in thought.
“How do you spell Santa?”
The sweet voice echoed through the barrack walls quite the contrast of its usual interior.
“S-A-N-T-A. Here little one, I’ll write it down for you.” The gruff voice bent down with a crack of his spine before letters curled one by one to spell the jolly fat man’s name.
“And how do you spell Christmas?”
A gruff sigh came from the man’s beard lips as he spelt out the words CHRISTMAS in extra large font for the babe.
Captain Price was a man well into his years, beaten and broken down from multiple years of war and hardship but, somehow or another you wiggled your way into his heart. He most certainly thought of you as his own and cared for you like such.
Calloused hands tending to your every need such as tying your shoes, reaching top shelves, teaching you sight words and so on and so forth.
“Kid, what are they teaching you in school? Do I have to spell everything for you?” He teased, running large calloused digits though H/C hair, ruffling it a bit but quickly slicking down its strands back in place.
“Could you write my letter? Please? I’ll tell you everything you need to write!?” Eager pleads filled the air and brought about the rest of the men to seek out your woes.
“Just this once! And I won’t ask for anything else!”
A half snort left the masked lips of our dearest stoic, balaclava covered “friend”. Deep voice for a large man indeed. A bit scary but, you were never scared of the one in which they call “Ghost”. Oh no, quite the opposite. You played with him, hugged him, snuggled up to him, had breakfast with him, much like everyone else who you had wrapped around your little tiny fingers.
“I find that rather hard to believe,love” He stated rather promptly, leaning back against a rickety chair, stretching his limbs out a bit.
“It’s true! I promise! And I can’t lie because Santa is watching AND, unlike some people-“ You shot glares at Ghost and Soap, Soap whom shot you a half innocent look back as if he had no idea what you were even rambling about. Ghost, if at all possible rolled his eyes beneath the mask at your little rambling. At least Gaz was safe from your rambles and tales of the “naughty and nice list.” You were certain your name and Gaz’s name was on the nice list, and maybe Price’s, but Ghost and Soap’s? Absolutely not!
“I’m gonna be on Santa’s nice list so I can get lots and lots of presents. So I can’t lie. Just, someone please write my Santa letter for me!? That’s all I ask! Please!? Pretty please?! Pretty please with sugar on top?!”
Little hands clasped together eagerly begging and pleading for your letter to be written, feet bounced from one heel to the next, little E/C eyes looked up to the men round, full of light and wonder but pupils wide and begging almost like a puppy who wanted a treat.
“Tch, fine. Only this once. Got it? Now, come here, little one. I’ll see to it that your letter is written and fit for Santa.” Captain Price patted his knee and you eagerly abided, settled atop his knee as if he were Santa himself. Come to think of it, if he had a longer, white beard and was a little fatter and more jollier, he could be Santa. You giggled in thought, earning a brow raise from Price before he carefully held you steady.
The hand that was holding you, held that same bright red ink pen gently against the notebook paper that you had originally used to write your own, little letter.
“Ready Captain? I gotta big list of things to write and say. Think you can keep up?” You teased the old Captain though you did this quite often and found joy in joking about his age. Though, the Captain wasn’t that old. He was in his late 30’s, early 40’s but, to you he was ancient.
“Take your best shot, kiddo.”
He chuckled before the tip of the red pen pressed against the crinkled paper, whereas you rambled on about your list, Price was lightly writing out as followed:
Dear Santa,
I have been really good this year. I have done all of my chores without complaining and been on my best behavior. For Christmas this year I want (insert toy list here) and for my “pretend” family to get everything they want Christmas. Oh! And I want them to be able to go home and spend Christmas with the people they love. Because that’s what Christmas is all about. Family and love.
P.S. Can you please get my Uncle Ghost a boyfriend/girlfriend. Thanks. He’s really lonely.
“Is that good?” You asked the Captain with a small tilt of your head, holding up the crinkled paper reading over each and every sentence you made Price write.
“Men, Do me the honor of looking over their letter. Tell me, is it Santa Clause worthy?” Price held the crinkled paper up for Ghost, Soap and Gaz to look over.
Gaz was the first to read it, chocolate hues scanning the paper over and over again with a small chuckle at the last sentence. A hand went over to tuck strands of H/C behind your ears and compliment your work, though Price wrote you you worded it.
Soap was next and as azure blue eyes looked over the paper he chuckled whole heartedly.
“Ya really are doin’ poor L.T. a favor here aren’t ya lass/lad?” Soap chuckled wholeheartedly before Ghost snatched the paper from the Scotsman.
“Johnny what’re you laughing at-“
He breathed in a heavy sigh at the last little sentence you had, had Price write.
“Bloody hell…”
He grumbled, large digits pinching the bridge of nose through mask and balaclava.
“It’s funny.”
You giggled, peering over Price’s tired shoulders to see Ghost’s reaction.
“Aye lass/lad, it’s also Santa worthy.” Soap got in another chuckle before snatching the crinkle red written letter back from Ghost and letting Price read over it one more time, before sealing it up into an envelope, licking it shut and sticking a little stamp on it.
“Say, Y/N? Do you know what Santa’s address is?” The Captain arched a brow at you as you seemed to be falling somewhat sleep in his gentle hold.
“Uh uh. But I bet it’s on your maps. Somewhere. You got lots of them. You can find it, I believe in you.”
You chuckled in a half sleepy manner, leaning back against Price’s broad chest, H/C and H/L falling over your tired features.
Price turned your body, so you were tucked tightly into his arms gently moving strands of hair out of your face. He thought for a moment at your little request and a subtle hum came from him.
In a hushed tone he whispered a simple,
“Don’t worry little lamb, St.Nicholas will get your letter, my men and I will make sure of it. “
He pressed a soft kiss against the crown of your head before letting you slumber and dream in his arms. He fetched the other men to quickly find Santa’s address for your silly, one of a kind letter.
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A/N: I suck at accents and writing but, my brain has been turned off recently because ya girl graduated last Saturday and I threw everything I've ever known out the window haha. I love writing fluff and I will die on that hill. This idea also came to me from a couple of AI chat roleplays and simply, well Christmas spirit. I know the gang is probably ooc and I sincerely apologize for that. I will get better, trust me! Reqs are open forever and always! Reblogs are def appreciated!
task force 141 reacting to [reader] clinging to them — python333
— — — —
synopsis just as the title says bb!! just some headcanons of the boys reacting to the reader clinging to them and basically following them around like a lost puppy!
relationships platonic!tf141 & reader.
characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.
warnings written in 2nd person pov [you/your/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign], non-scottish reader [or could be read as scottish with less of an accent], probably ooc :{
note this is so. self indulgent. BUT i need to get my thoughts out rn about these boys because its too much to contain my silly little brain won't let this go and i need to just hdjhsdfjdhj. if anyone wants to request something for me to write pls do it because this is the only thing thats gotten me out of my writers block.
JOHN "BRAVO SIX" PRICE
➥ i honestly don’t even think he’d notice at first.
➥ about a week after you’d gotten to know everyone on the team and started to get used to their quirks, you decide your target to cling onto is gonna be price… because why not?
➥ when i say cling i mean following him around like a lost puppy, just about watching his every move, basically being his shadow.
➥ it’s not until about three days of you doing this when he realizes you’re shadowing him.
➥ when he confronts you about it, it’s less of a confrontation and more like him saying “... do you need something?” and then brushing it off when you shake your head ‘no’.
➥ he’s not really irritated or angry about it, more confused but generally okay with it.
➥ so when he realizes you’re gonna be doing this often, he can’t tell whether he should feel honored or bothered.
➥ spoilers: he ends up feeling honored. it’s his fatherly instincts, y’all already know.
➥ he’s awkward about it at first, now that he actually knows you’re following him, he’s constantly checking over his shoulder and — yep, you’re still there.
➥ so he doesn’t confront you about it again, and just lets you follow him around, and once y’all get closer he teases you for following him around like a duckling would with its mother.
—
You’d been following Price around for a few days now. He hadn’t noticed so far, thank God, but he was definitely close to finding out. You could see the way he’d occasionally glance over his shoulder and see you following him, then keep eye contact with you for a moment before going on with his day — which really confused you at first, but who cares as long as he’s not stopping you? — and letting you follow him.
You had been following him out of habit. You didn’t mean to follow him in particular, it just… happened. Something about his demeanor, you’d convinced yourself, He just feels safe. It’s inexplicable and we will not be diving into my underlying issues to figure out why he feels safe.
So when he’d confronted you about it—or, asked you about it is probably more accurate—with a questioning tone and the words, “Did you need something?”, you shook your head ‘no’, and that was that. The older man had looked at you for another second, eyes looking over your expression as if trying to read you like a book, then went on with his day. You had let out a sigh of relief, and continued your little routine of following him around and being his little shadow.
—
JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH
➥ he’s such a silly guy, man.
➥ he’d notice but pretend he didn’t, just for the sake of seeing how long you’ll follow him.
➥ if anyone points out your presence he’ll ignore it and change the subject.
➥ of course, once he realizes you aren’t letting up your clinginess, he confronts you about it in the most professional way possible!
➥ “Do ye trail everyone ‘round like that, or am I jist special?”
➥ it takes you a moment to figure out what he just said because holy fuck that accent is THICK.
➥ but you figure it out after a quick moment of thinking and struggle to respond, before offering a quiet, “... Uh. I guess you’re just special?”
➥ he is very happy about this.
➥ he nods approvingly and goes on with his day, letting you trail behind him.
➥ he really doesn’t mind, and actually enjoys having you trail behind him.
—
Following around Soap was more of a challenge than you’d intended. It was fun, for the most part, and you liked that he didn’t acknowledge you at all. The main reason you had kept following him was because he didn’t bother you at all, and didn’t even glance back at you as you followed him, no, he simply let you follow him around and shadow him all day.
Of course, you still had training and practice, but the moment you had gotten out of the showers and were done for the day, you’d gone back to following Soap, once you’d found him. Your daily routine was basically: wake up, eat breakfast, follow Soap, go to the training room and follow your CO’s orders, shower and eat lunch or dinner, find Soap, follow Soap, sleep, repeat.
Then one day, on a particularly idle day, Soap had turned to you and popped the question — “Do ye trail everyone ‘round like this, or am I jist special?”
Maybe you were just being dramatic, but holy fuck , his accent made it almost sound like he was speaking a whole different language. You process his words for a moment, before responding with a quiet, “Uh… I guess you’re just special?”
He seemed pretty satisfied with that answer and never really bothered you with it again.
—
SIMON “GHOST” RILEY
➥ he realizes immediately and ohhh boyyyyyy.
➥ “Do you need something?” “Did you need something?” “Why are you following me?” “Stop following me.” “Do you need something?”
➥ he is. Very bothered.
➥ constantly looking over his shoulder just to find your annoying ass following him.
➥ will always ask you why you’re following him, and when you shrug or give a bullshit excuse, he gives an exasperated sigh and goes on with his day.
➥ sometimes he’d even try to lose you in the crowd, and when you miraculously continue to follow him through it, he’d somehow become even more miserable. it’s impressive, your dedication to following him around like this.
➥ he’ll warm up to it eventually, maybe a month or two after you’ve started following him.
➥ by month one he’ll stop constantly asking you why you’re following him, and by month two he’ll stop constantly glancing over his shoulder.
➥ and eventually, he’ll stop trying to lose you in the crowds, and instead look for the easiest way to get through them with you trailing behind him.
—
Ghost should’ve known from the moment you persisted with your following of him through thick and thin that you’d never give this up. Honestly, it’s impressive how dedicated you are to trailing behind him like a little shadow, never even speaking to him, just following him.
However, Ghost could persist as well.
You’d follow him around as much as possible, starting at the break of dawn and briefly pausing your following to do whatever training your CO instructed and then resuming your following till curfew. Day after day, Ghost would interrupt your following by questioning it, then when given an answer, he’d give an exasperated sigh and storm off, not waiting for you to catch up.
At first, he thought you wanted to win over some sort of attention or affection from him. So, he made sure not to give you any. He didn’t spare a single moment for you, besides glancing at you over his shoulder and questioning your presence, and yet you continued to follow him. So he experimented with it a bit — he didn’t spare a single glance at you one day, didn’t speak to you one bit, didn’t do anything. Just went around as if you weren’t there. And yet, you continued to follow him, not put off by his behavior at all.
So, he just stopped thinking too much about you, in the nicest way possible. He wouldn’t glance back at you and question your presence, but he also wouldn’t try and lose you around the base. He wouldn’t storm off and leave you running to catch up. Sometimes, he even forgets you’re there at all. He warms up to it, albeit after a few months, but he still warms up to it nonetheless.
—
KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK
➥ i think he’d notice fairly quickly but wouldn’t point it out right away.
➥ like, he’d glance over his shoulder and see you following him, but gaslights himself into thinking you’re just trying to get to the same place he is, so he doesn’t confront you about it or anything.
➥ so when he realizes that you’re following him and not just trying to get to the same place he is, he’s kind of weirded out, but still doesn’t confront you.
➥ he’ll ask soap for some help on what to do and the damn idiot just goes ‘[c/n] probably has a crush on you’ so now gaz thinks you have a crush on him.
➥ i mean, he’s flattered, but also he has no idea who you are, so…
➥ he’s now even more awkward.
➥ so then he goes to price for help,
➥ and price is just a tinge more reasonable.
➥ price tells gaz that you’re probably just shadowing him because you see him as some sort of mentor, or maybe there was someone in your past that was similar to gaz and you followed them around as well.
➥ his reasoning doesn’t help all that much, because what the fuck is gaz supposed to do with that, but whatever.
➥ he really doesn’t know what to do about you, to be honest.
➥ after way too long, he asks you why you’re following him.
➥ and when you shrug or give an excuse as to why you’ve been trailing behind him ever since you’ve gotten here, he shrugs back and goes on with his day.
➥ doesn’t mind all that much, so yippee!!
➥ eventually, when you two get closer, he tells you that you can walk by his side instead of behind him.
—
Making Gaz your target was probably the best idea you’ve ever had.
He’s pretty quiet, doesn’t actively try to get you to go away, and best of all, he really just walks around and does any tasks he needs to. It’s oddly nice, just watching him do his work. He doesn’t talk to himself under his breath like Soap or Price does, and doesn’t do his work in complete silence like Ghost does. He’ll often hum to himself or whistle, a noise that’s quickly become weirdly comforting to you.
It’s kind of disappointing realizing you have to go off to training, honestly. Following Gaz around has quickly become the pinnacle of your day. Which sounds really sad now that you think of it, but who cares.
About a month of you following him later, he finally asks you why you’re following him. In the nicest way possible, of course.
“Is there a reason you’ve been following me around all month?”
When you shrug or give an excuse for your actions, he thinks about your words (or your wordless shrug) for a moment and mutters a quiet, “Alright, then,” and goes on with his day.
Thank you all so much for the love you're giving this story! It honestly means so much to me! 💛
I hope you all enjoy this part 💛
Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated! Thank you for all the continued support 💛
Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over (thank you to everyone who's requested a story so far, I'm working my way through them!)
I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!
Catch up on the previous part here: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / 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 / Part 19 / Part 20 / Part 21
Warnings: Feelings of hurt, betrayal, jealousy, regret, sadness and anger - nearly a physical fight between Kyle and Johnny, arguments
COD Modern Warfare Masterlist /Taskforce 141 Masterlist /Join My Taglist
Kyle stood with his arms folded across his chest, completely and utterly baffled at his partner's actions.
John had been gone most of the afternoon but came in a few minutes after Simon and Johnny had left to go food shopping.
In the captain's hands was a familiar takeaway coffee cup that Kyle recognised far too easily.
And then Johnny and Simon returned with identical takeaway coffee cups.
Now they were all sitting in front of Kyle in the living room and he felt like a teacher scolding children.
Both John and Johnny wore a solemn look on their faces; like kicked puppies.
Simon, despite his nonchalant demeanour, was also evidently sad, it was clear in his eyes, at least it was to the people present in the room.
As much as part of Kyle wanted to be sympathetic to them; he was mainly just angry and hurt.
Angry because this is exactly what he thought would happen if he went to go and see you himself. You were clearly happy. That was good. He’d meant what he said to John that morning, you deserved it, especially after the pain they put you through.
But he knew it would twist him up to see you happy about someone else.
Which is why he made quick work of distracting himself so that he didn’t think about you.
He thought the others were doing the same; but he was clearly wrong.
Which is also why he was so hurt; because now everyone except him, had seen you.
Even if they’d come back deflated, they’d at least been able to look at you one last time….
“What were you guys thinking?” Kyle questioned; the sharpness in his voice not unnoticed by the three men sitting in front of him.
“I was thinking that I wanted to see her,”Johnny replied back; his calm tone only furthering the other Sargents' irritation.
“And how exactly did that go?”
Kyle's question was rhetorical.
He knew based on the looks on his partners faces that the interaction with you had gone poorly even without any of them answering
“Well she wasn’t exactly happy with us,” Johnny answered with a frown.
“Nor me, she made my coffee wrong,” John mumbled, taking a brief sip of the drink, trying to force himself to drink the coffee, simply ecause it was made by you.
“Gave him a raspberry tea, and me something that tastes like grass,” Johnny continued, nodding over to Simon before turning his attention back to Kyle.
“Well what did you expect?” Kyle scoffed, running a hand over his face in frustration.
“We can’t let her get married,” John stated firmly; catching everyone in the room off guard.
“Ye’ve changed your tune from this mornin’,” Johnny said, unable to stop the small smile from forming on his lips, knowing that the Captain was now on his and Simon’s side.
“I just thought about it….thought about her,” Johns words trailed off as he looked at Kyle; his eyes were soft; hoping that somehow just that look alone would calm him down.
It didn’t.
“And what?”Kyle challenged,“You thought that seeing us again was going to make her cancel her wedding?”
Kyle didn’t snap at any of them often; and certainly not at John; not only was he their Captain on missions, but they also had a close bond and, most of the time the two of them had a similar thought process on things.
Apart from now.
The room fell silent at Kyle’s outburst; each man trying to work out what to say to him, to help him understand where they were coming from.
“How do you think she felt?” It was Kyle’s own voice that broke the silence; his tone was softer now but there was an undeniable fury in his eyes.
“She was clear about how she felt,” Johnny retorted back; earning a small slap on the shoulder from Simon; who was hating that they were all arguing.
It reminded him of when John had told them that he was going to have to end things with you, it caused so many arguments after you’d left.
It nearly destroyed them.
And he could see that same pain in Kyle’s eyes, this time it was at their betrayal…Simon wanted nothing more than to fix the situation within the group, but he didn’t know how to.
“You ambushed her at work!” Kyle seethed.
“Kyle, breathe,” John said; standing up to try and touch Kyle’s shoulder to help calm him down; hating how worked up he was getting.
“With respect, John, don’t tell me what to do right now,” Kyle strained, shuffling back a little, away from John's touch.
“It’s been two and a half years and you guys just popped up out of the blue to see here, like nothing happened.”
The group remained silent, allowing Kyle to continue venting his questions to them;
“Did any of you apologise to her?”
“Did any of you ask how she’d been?”
“Did any of you congratulate her on her engagement and upcoming wedding?”
“Why would we congratulate her?” Johnny countered back; rising to his feet, anger becoming evident in the Scotsman’s tone at the ludicrous words that he’d just heard.
“Because we let her go; we made our choices and now we have to live with the consequences of them,” Kyle argued back, taking a step closer to Johnny; his words reminding them all that they all agreed to the separation that broke them up, not you.
“If we see her, and that’s a big if because she’s probably going to try and avoid us as much as possible,” he continued; realising his own rage, as he stepped back away from Johnny.
He didn’t want to fight with any of them and certainly not physically.
He needed to go and calm down; to process what had happened.
“But if for some reason we do see her;” his voice was much softer now as he walked towards the door joining the living room they were all currently in, to the hallway, “we need to act like we’re not still in love with her,”
“I can’t do that,” Simon stated; finally speaking, his tone wasn’t harsh; but it was firm, as though he was stating a fact, “none of us can, not even you, Kyle.”
Kyle was nearly out of the room when he replied back with, “That’s why I didn’t go to see her.”
His reply wasn’t filled with rage; just a sadness that they all could relate too.
Before any of them could say anything else or try to comfort him, he walked out of the room completely, closing the door behind him so that he could go and calm down, before he murdered his partners for their stupidity.
Leaving John, Simon and Johnny in the room, Kyle’s words still echoing in their ears.
task force 141 reacting to [reader] having excessively watery eyes — python333
— — — —
synopsis just as the title says once again! tf141 and their reactions to [reader] having excessively watery eyes. if you want to get a bit more medical, the term for it would just be 'high tear drainage capacity'! it's basically just something some people have where they naturally just produce more tears and as a result their eyes water excessively at (as far as i know) random times!
relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & reader.
characters cap. john price, soap, ghost, gaz.
warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign], might be ooc. :{
note i was watching super 8 when i got this idea, because my eyes got watery all of a sudden while watching it and i was like 'omg i should post this on tumblr' because i'm a writing whore so here i am again. my fingers hurt from typing all the things in html to make the text small and shit but we still up!!
JOHN “BRAVO SIX” PRICE
➥ he thinks you’re crying at first.
➥ it’s not his fault! he had no idea your eyes just water up randomly.
➥ when he sees your eyes well up with tears, depending on how close y’all are, his fatherly instincts—which he, obviously, developed after meeting gaz—kick in immediately.
➥ “Are you okay, [c/n]?” “Why are you crying?” “Did something happen? What happened?” “... What do you mean?” “This is normal?”
➥ he’s kind of embarrassed for worrying so much after you reassure him that you were okay and that your eyes just excessively water, to be honest.
➥ he’s glad that you’re okay though, obviously.
➥ he never really gets used to seeing you tear up randomly? even though you told him it was normal?
➥ like he knows that 99% of the time you tear up it’s just because you do that, but he still likes to be sure that you’re okay, so he always makes sure to ask if you’re okay.
➥ he’s such!! a father!! i’m crying!! and it's not just my excessive eye watering!!
—
You both had just been hanging out in the recreation center, Price on the couch and you sitting on a chair right by that couch. You were scrolling through your phone, while Price was reading the newspaper—usual old man activities. While scrolling through your social media feed, you didn’t even notice the way tears started to well up in your eyes until your vision got blurry and you felt a small, wet trail of a single tear roll down your cheek.
You’d sighed and pulled a pocket-sized tissue pack out out your pocket, pulling out a tissue and dabbing at your eyes, ridding them of the tears. Of course, the tears didn’t just stop there, they kept coming, so you kept wiping and dabbing at your eyes, hoping that they would go away soon. This was a fairly regular occurrence— for you.
Price caught sight of this and immediately looked worried. He stared at you for a moment as you wiped your eyes, wondering if he should speak up, and eventually had tentatively asked, “Are you okay, [c/n]?”
You looked over at him and pulled the tissue away from your face for a moment, “Yeah, why?” Your voice didn’t sound strained or hoarse like Price had expected, seeing as you were practically crying.
“You’re crying,” Price had pointed out, pointing to your eyes as if you couldn’t notice it, “Did something happen?”
You sat there, a bit dumbfounded, and Price took your silence as hesitation to tell him what was going on. “You can tell me what’s going on, [c/n]. I won’t judge you,” He’d reassured you softly, setting down his book and putting all of his attention on you.
Oh God. “Nothing happened,” You’d quickly assured him, “This is normal, don’t worry about it.”
“... What do you mean, ‘this is normal’?” Price asked, now confused as well as concerned, “You cry often, mate?”
“I mean, kind of?” You had replied, before sighing and clarifying, “My eyes just water up a lot. It’s not really crying.”
“Oh,” Price said dumbly, before nodding and giving you one last concerned look, “Right, then. Uh… sorry about that.”
“It’s okay,” You smiled at him, going back to dabbing at your eyes with a tissue, while he reluctantly went back to his book.
—
JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH
➥ can’t mind his own business for the life of him.
➥ similar to price, he thinks you’re crying at first.
➥ but he doesn’t hesitate at all, the moment he sees you tearing up he’s like ‘woah what the fuck are you okay??’
➥ you have to firmly tell him that yes, you’re okay, you just have very watery eyes.
➥ he still offers to get you tissues and some water, worried by the amount of tears you’re producing, thinking you’re gonna get really dehydrated.
➥ makes sure you’re completely okay and that you’re not just making this all up to hide the fact that you’re actually crying.
➥ after that whole interaction, he doesn’t get as worried when your eyes randomly water up, and instead teases you about it.
➥ learns to know when you’re actually crying, just so that he can offer comfort when it’s appropriate, and tease you when it’s appropriate.
—
The two of you were hanging out in Ghost’s room, since his was cleaner than the both of your’s combined, and he was away on a mission. Soap laid down on Ghost’s bed while you were sitting on the edge of the same bed, the sheets and blankets wrinkled from you both moving around on the bed. Soap was scrolling through his phone while you sat opposite of him and read a book Price had recommended to you—in his usual old man pseudo-father fashion, he’d told you to spend less time on your phone and ‘read a damn book’—so you were doing just that.
It was when you’d just reached chapter six when your vision got blurry and you sighed, knowing what was happening already. It was just annoying, honestly, having to pull out your tissues every ten minutes because your stupid tear ducts couldn’t function properly. When you went to pull out the mini tissue pack you always carried with you—or so you thought—you were surprised to find that the familiar plastic rectangle of tissues were nowhere to be found in your pockets. You checked your back pockets, front pockets, and yet they weren’t in either.
You let out a small, frustrated sigh through your nose and got up from the bed, the movement making Soap look up and over at you.
“Hey, where are ye—blimey, are ye cryin’?” Soap questioned, his questioning tone quickly becoming concerned, “Are ye alright? It wasnae the book that made ye cry, aye?”
You looked back at Soap, sighing, wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt, “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t even worry about it, it’s normal, I just need to go get some tissues.”
“What dae ye mean this is normal?” Soap asked, sitting up. I just want to grab tissues, man, You think, miserably before short explanation that yes, you’re okay, no, you’re not crying, your eyes are just watery—basically the same answer you give every who eventually asks about your little ‘quirk’.
“Ye sure ye’re alright?” Soap asked, just making sure you’re actually okay, “Ye’re definitely no’ crying?”
“Definitely not crying,” You confirmed, “Just watery eyes.”
“Alright, then,” Soap breathed out, relieved that you were okay, before getting up and asking, “Dae ye need some tissues, water, anythin’?”
“Just tissues,” You answered, walking towards the door, “I can get them—”
“Nah, nah, ye stay richt there!” Soap quickly said, somehow getting to the door before you despite him having been right in front of the bed moments earlier, “I’ll get it!”
You watched him run out the door at a speed comparable to the usain bolt and stayed there for a moment, just staring at the now opened door, before huffing out a small laugh and heading back to the bed and sitting down.
—
SIMON “GHOST” RILEY
➥ he doesn’t notice until you’re wiping at your eyes and huffing in frustration when tears keep coming.
➥ the first time it happened, he didn’t ask if you were alright verbally, but did shoulder nudge you and gave you a look that asks ‘are you okay?’
➥ when you nodded and continued wiping at your eyes, ghost gave you one last look before trusting that you were okay and continuing on with his day.
➥ he pretended he didn’t care but thought about it for a bit afterwards, especially if you guys are really close.
➥ he asked price if you tearing up is just a normal thing or if you were actually crying, and let himself relax when he was told that yes, your eyes just water up randomly.
➥ he’s naturally a very observant person and will be able to tell when you’re actually crying fairly quickly.
➥ he’ll still look you over to make sure you’re okay, of course, just to double check, but once he’s confirmed that your eyes are just getting watery again he’ll let himself relax.
➥ depending on how close you both are, he’ll carry around a pack of tissues for you.
—
You and Ghost were in a helicopter, another mission successful. It wasn’t the worst one you’d had—but it was far from easy to accomplish. You were reasonably tired after this mission, all the leftover adrenaline wearing off, making you slump a bit in your seat.
You were just about to close your eyes to rest them, when suddenly you realized how blurry your vision had gotten. You were confused for a moment before realizing—oh, right, that happens.
You sighed, knowing you didn’t bring your usual pack of tissues with you, thinking it would just take up useless space in the pockets of your tactical gear. You wiped your eyes with the gloves you’d been wearing, albeit they weren’t the best option but the sleeves of your shirt were far too short for you to use, the hem of your shirt was dirty, and while your gloves were dirty as well, the back of them weren’t nearly as filthy as the hem of your shirt.
As you wiped away with the back of your glove, Ghost noticed your watery eyes and nudged your shoulder with his own. You paused and pulled your hand away from your eye, giving him a questioning look. He didn’t say anything, but instead gave you a questioning look back, a look you assumed to be one that asked, ‘are you okay?’, judging by the way his eyes darted to your own very watery ones. You nodded, mouthing the words ‘I’m okay’, and he nodded back, going back to staring ahead of him.
Hours after you had gotten off the helicopter, you were walking by Price’s office, and couldn’t help but hear Ghost’s voice. Being the nosy person you are, you cautiously pressed your ear to the door.
“—don’t worry, it’s normal,” You heard Price reassuring Ghost, “I doubt they’d cry after a mission like that, anyway.”
“And they’ve told you it’s normal?” Ghost asked, just to confirm, “You know this for a fact?”
You didn’t stay long enough to hear the rest of the conversation, instead walking away and suppressing a smile at Ghost’s mildly worried tone.
—
KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK
➥ he notices pretty quickly.
➥ no matter how many times he’s caught you tearing up, he’ll still ask you if you’re okay.
➥ he makes sure to bring a clean handkerchief with him, just incase you forget your tissues.
➥ he’ll even bring it with him on missions, knowing you don’t want to bring your small pack of tissues with you.
➥ the first time he catches your eyes watering up, he gets pretty worried.
➥ he makes sure not to make a big deal out of it though, trying to be as considerate as possible, and instead quietly asks you if you’re okay.
➥ when you reassure him that you are and tell him your eyes are just naturally watery, he’s pretty relieved, and lets it go.
➥ he trusts that you told him the truth, and doesn’t question you again after that.
➥ around the fifth time it’d happened, he’d grown pretty used to it, so when you started tearing up walking back to the rendezvous point with him after a mission, he had a handkerchief ready for you.
—
You panted while you walked, trying to get your breathing under control. You’d done a lot of running today—while you were pretty fit, and could run perfectly fine, you didn’t particularly like running as fast as you can away from enemy soldiers while your teammates shot them down, leaving you praying that the bullets that tailed your feet didn’t hit you.
Eventually, you got your breath under control, but immediately afterwards, your eyes had started to water.
You sighed and were about to wipe at your eyes with your hands, before your hand was stopped mid air. You looked over at Gaz, who had caught your hand by the wrist and offered you a handkerchief with his free hand.
The handkerchief was fairly clean, and you grabbed it, muttering a small ‘thank you’ as you did. Gaz smiled at you and gave you a simple pat on the shoulder.
Once the two of you reached the rendezvous point, you handed him back the handkerchief, hoping that your grateful smile was enough to express your full gratitude.
I got called an OSHA Violation at work and since I’ve branded myself the Johnny MacTavish of my work place, I thought of this little thing.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
• Working in a typical 9-5 with Johnny is either super fun or absolutely fucking miserable. He’s wired 90% of the time and absolutely feral.
• Talks your head off about nonsense until the manager/s (AKA: Price & Laswell) tell him “if you have time to lean, you have time to clean.” 🧼
•They beg him to work the registers because he’s a “people person”, but when he’s back in the stockroom…well, he’s nothing short of a nightmare.
•zero concept of personal space and knows no dangers.
•Held a box cutter up to his face obliviously because he had to wipe his nose.
•Crawled underneath a conveyer belt WHILE boxes were being pushed down it because he didn’t like the side he was standing on.
• Throw boxes like their shot-put balls (or whatever their called). Doesn’t matter if the boxes are stocked up higher and taller than he is, he’s still gonna throw them.
•SHOWS OFF
•Takes his shirt off when doing truck, doesn’t matter if it’s 0°F back in the stockroom, does it anyway.
•Everyone except Johnny wears headphones because he loves to talk and sing to the horrible retail music. Dances too. Has no shame.
•Steals people’s food and snacks even if their names are on it. (I have a Drabble of this!)
• Always has a Redbull or coffee even though he doesn’t need it? People have to force him to drink water.
•Spends his breaks gossiping with Kyle ❤️ (Sometimes Simon, if he’ll listen)
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
A/N: I hope y’all liked that! And feel free to add more or ask about how the others would be in a typical 9-5! I think these are fun to write and yes, I have branded everyone as their own CoD character & trust me when I say this, I am definitely Soap at work. I have many more fun stories and ideas too ❤️ love you guys!
