STOPPP THIS IS SO CUTE HAHEGWVSJEUWJSBSB ADORAVLE

STOPPP THIS IS SO CUTE HAHEGWVSJEUWJSBSB ADORAVLE

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。10:07 PM — AL-HAITHAM.

al-haitham asks you to marry him before he even realizes himself what he’s just asked. it’s a random tuesday night. you’re in worn out pajamas, he’s still got slight damp hair from his shower, and the both of you are curled up on the couch.

you’re rubbing his chest and his arm’s wrapped around your waist when you murmur, “we should get a place with more windows.”

he raises a brow, turns to look at you and scan over the side of your face. it’s familiar, the way you look so pretty under the dim light, on the same couch against the same walls in the same living room. but it’ll still feel like the first time even if it’ll be his last.

“is the design of our current home not up to your standards?” he asks, making you giggle.

“it’s nice,” you hum, “but it needs more windows. and a bigger kitchen. and maybe a backyard.”

“this home is conveniently close to our place of work,” he argues, fingers creeping up from under your shirt and rubbing circles into your hip. it’s soft—your skin, it’s warm and familiar under the rough pad of his thumb. it’s a touch that’s routine enough that you don’t squirm in surprise anymore when he finds your bare skin, and then he wonders for a moment if there are other routines waiting for him.

maybe he’ll watch you wait for him through the window as he comes home. maybe you’ll dance in the kitchen as coffee’s being made. maybe there’ll be picnics in the backyard as the sun sets. maybe, when you have a new house but the same home, he’ll find more of you in the walls and the corners of every room.

“haitham,” you huff, “a little extra walk won’t kill you. we should find our dream home.”

“our?” he asks after a moment, like he’s shocked. you only nod against his chest.

“of course, silly,” you chuckle, “i certainly won’t be house shopping with the general mahamatra—”

“we should get married,” he blurts.

“what?”

“my grandmother left a ring,” he instantly explains, “it’s a very nice ring, i promise. you won’t have to worry about having a bare finger—”

“that’s not what i meant—”

“and it can be a small ceremony,” he assures, “it shouldn’t take much planning. but if you’d like something fancier, i don’t mind either, it’s your wedding day just as much as it is mine—”

“that’s sweet, but wait—”

“and if you’re worried about time off for the honeymoon, as the former acting grand sage, there’s still a few strings i can pull for us both. i hear inazuma is nice during spring, so that gives us—”

he’s rambling. he’s figuring it out right here and now and it’s the last thing you expect of him, not having an elaborate plan—and it takes you by surprise. but he’s breathless and his eyes are wide and his chest is warm and his arm is still wrapped tightly around your waist.

and you couldn’t dream of saying no.

“you think you want all this?” you ask gently, “with little old me?”

“there’s no one but you,” he mumbles, holding you closer. and if there’s a slight bounce in his knee as he waits for your answer, you pretend you don’t notice.

“so you want to get married?”

“i want to marry you,” he corrects, “i want you. marriage is just the means of how.”

“okay,” you say with a hitch in your throat. after a moment of silence, you let out a shaky chuckle, eyes watery as you meet his. “okay. let’s get married.”

“okay,” he nods slightly, swallowing thickly.

“and we can have a house with more windows,” you add.

“and a bigger kitchen,” he agrees.

“and a backyard.”

“maybe a bigger study,” he adds thoughtfully.

you grab his face at that, with enough desperation that his cheeks are squished in your hands as you turn him, pressing your lips to his. you taste him, feel him pass through you as a breath of air, hear him ring through your ear as a muffled grunt.

he’s a part of you. he’s every inch of you. he lingers on your skin and knits into your bones. he’s yours now and somehow….somehow he’ll be yours forever.

“i’m going to get married,” you sniffle. “how exciting.”

“i’m going to marry you,” he murmurs, like he’s still processing the fact that you’re here, and his, and you’ve said yes.

“i love you,” you giggle, pressing your forehead to his.

his eyes close and his arm squeezes you gently. “i’ll always love you.”

edit: everyone stop fucking commenting about the authors note it was a joke and the comments are getting old :/ why don’t you actually leave feedback on the fic itself for once and show writers some support as you consume content

you people don’t fucking understand how insanely in love with him i am i want to make a fur coat out of his pubic hair and wear it on a cold winter day idc

When in doubt.

Pairing: TF141 (Price, Gaz, Ghost, Soap) X Male reader/ Inferus. (Can be read as platonic)

Word count: 2.1k (about 500 words each (though Gaz's is a bit longer and Soap's shorter))

Content: 141 being carried by Inferus, Readers Callsign is Inferus, no use of y/n, Talk of injuries, kinda angsty in areas, I'm pretty sure there's British slang used though so I'm sorry, this could be read as gender-neutral but Inferus is male in mind.

A/N : Making my CoD Masterlist, is a nightmare but it's happening.

141 meeting Inferus (Dont have to read for it to make sense.)

∥ M.List ∥

⚝ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 ⚝

In the aftermath of a mission gone awry, Price found himself confined to the med bay, his leg wounded by a gunshot. The medics had sternly ordered him to bed rest until the injury fully healed.

After about an hour of bed rest that felt like an eternity, Price's restlessness won over his better judgment. Fuck it he was gonna walk.

 He hobbled along the corridor, his determination outweighing the pain and the danger of reopening his stitches.

Unbeknownst to him, you were the one who had caught him in the act. At first, you just watched from behind, finding humor in the sight of your captain hobbling so desirably despite the injury. 

It wasn't until his leg gave out, and he found himself leaning against the wall, that you intervened. Approaching with arms crossed. Price's sigh carried a hint of resignation as he looked up at you, “Can ya blame me, Inferus? I need to get to my office.”

You couldn't help but shake your head at his audacity. Before he could protest any further, you scooped him up in a bridal carry. As you moved, you could feel the stickiness of blood on his ankle, confirming your suspicions that he had indeed opened his stitches.

If Price could have died from embarrassment in that moment he would have. 

You bypassed the med bay this time, taking him back to his room to carefully reapply fresh bandages. 

His grumbling was a constant soundtrack, but you remained focused on the task at hand, earning a few more sarcastic comments and begrudging thank you's.

The night passed, and morning brought a new day, as well as another attempted escape by Price. He was about to admit defeat and go back to bed but you quickly picked him up bridal style like you had the night before and carried him to the shared kitchen for breakfast. 

Price would have glared at anyone who sent him a look or laughed, but no one did because it was you carrying him. 

Soap and Gaz think it's hilarious, making jokes about Price being the “Princess” to your “Knight”. Price would probably bark at them, pulling rank and all but it did little to deter them. You’re just happy Price hasn't opened his stitches again. 

Price greatly appreciates your presence, as now he's not fighting tooth and nail and getting himself more hurt just to move about. He appreciates it when you wait about in his office for him to finish his work or bring him food during meals and snacks. 

Price's gratitude was thinly veiled by his gruff exterior, but his consistent "thank you"s and occasional glimpses of genuine warmth betrayed his true feelings. 

He enjoys being taken care of, though he won't admit it. He’s polite though, saying thank you every time you grab something or put him down carefully. 

It eventually develops into a routine, you wake up and see an injured Price in his doorway, you pick him up and the two of you go to breakfast. He doesn't ask you to keep doing it but you know he wants to. 

☠︎︎ 𝐋𝐢𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 “𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭” 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 ☠︎︎

Ghost had, somehow, stepped into a bear trap. He had been running from enemies and so it tore quite a bit of skin and did some damage. Loser boy

Getting back to base (Amit some teasing from Soap) he had been dragged to the med bay and stitched up. He knew it would take some time to heal but felt he needed to be better. He had no idea how he didn't see the bear trap and was frustrated that he even stepped on it. 

He knew he needed to be better and didn't excuse himself from being distracted at that moment.  Despite his injury, he ended up dragging himself to the gym in the dead of night. 

You had heard the soft clang from the gym doors. You walk in and found him working out when he should be resting his injury. He didn't notice you, caught up in the adrenaline and ignoring his pain. 

His motions came to a sudden halt as your footsteps echoed in the room. Trying to play it cool, Ghost brushed off his pain. You watched as he struggled to maintain his facade, trying to dismiss your presence. He hesitated when you offered your help, clearly torn between his pride and the need to take care of himself.

As the adrenaline from his workout subsided, the reality of his injury began to sink in. Ghost's facade crumbled, and he finally nodded, his tough exterior giving way to vulnerability. 

You helped him carefully lower himself onto a nearby bench. As you tended to what had opened in his injury, he winced and clenched his jaw, his fingers gripping the edge of the bench. Yet, through the discomfort, his gaze remained locked on you, silently thanking you for your support.

You end up carrying him back to his quarters via a piggyback, however, as undignified it was to Ghost he was secretly impressed by how effortlessly you lifted him. 

He didn't really complain and was happy for the relief on his ankle, he would just lay his head on your shoulder and go limp against your back.

He ends up asking you to do it again the next day, he had duties to take care of to help Price and was hoping for some alleviation of his pain. So you oblige. 

No one is dumb enough to say anything or even laugh, who would when you could so easily throw Ghost at them? Besides, you two were second highest ranking on base, they could get in some serious trouble, especially making fun of an injured man. 

You end up helping him with his duties, hoping it would get him to go back to his quarters quickly so A) he was less likely to injure his leg and B) you didn't have to keep carrying him around. 

Ghost doesn't like asking you to do things for him, so he veils it as orders only to say thank you afterward. You know he doesn't mean to come off as rude so you dont take it personally. 

The day Ghost can stand and walk on his own with minimal pain, the piggybacks stop. He's appreciative of your help, but he finds it embarrassing having to be carried around and being literally limp on your back (especially the times when you had to put a hand to his ass) 

★ 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐞 “𝐆𝐚𝐳” 𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 ★

Gaz ended up breaking his ankle after jumping from a height he knew he shouldn't have been and landed off. His ankle snapped on the landing and he ended up face-first on the concrete. 

He was quick to radio in the injury, leaving out how he ended up with a broken ankle. Soap had to drag him from where he fell to the extraction point. His ankle had to casted and was put on bedrest or could walk around on crutches. Both felt rather embarrassing for Gaz. 

He thought it was dumb how he had broken his ankle and hadn't stuck the landing. He was glad no one saw it nor knew what happened, all they knew was that Gaz must have been fighting, jumped for safety, and eaten shit, and not that he was avoiding fire and didn't calculate the height of the building in a fight or flight moment. 

He wanted to spend his reverb off base but couldn't due to how far off his actual off-duty was. So he wallowed in his room, only ever leaving for meetings he wasn't excused from or to get food. 

He felt shitty over the injury to the point he wouldn't let Soap or Price write on the cast. He knew he was being an asshole and avoiding them but he was wallowing and just wanted to be in the field again. 

You decided you had enough of his avoiding, the others were worried for him and you hated seeing him so down in the dumps. So you decided to try and lift his spirits. Literally. 

One unsuspecting morning in the communal kitchen crutches leaning on the counter while he lent on it and held his injured foot up. He was waiting for the coffee so he could slink back to his room. 

You approached as quietly as ever, and before he could even register you in his eyeline he was up in the air. 

You had thrown him up and on your shoulder so that he couldn’t reach the ground. 

“What the Fuck, Inferus! What the Hell are you doin’?! Put me down Now!” 

You just stole his pot of coffee and drank it yourself (through a straw of course), you left his crutches and just went about your duties with Gaz on your shoulder. 

He complained a lot at first until he just accepted his fate and went along with it, even though he was annoyed. 

You got some weird looks, of course, but a mere turn of your head in their direction had them freezing up and whimpering off. 

You fed Gaz thought the day, passing back protein bars and full plates of food for him to eat and refusing to sit down to eat so he could slink off. 

The team thought it was hilarious, you were able to hold Gaz’s injured leg so Soap could write on his cast. Price wanted you to be careful with the injured sergeant but let you on your way. Ghost just shook his head when you walked past him, Gaz sending him a pleading look for help. But Ghost only put his hands up, he was not about to mess with you. 

He huffed and puffed but he had to admit it was comfortable up there. He didn't have to strain his legs and arms to get around, and he wasnt just sleeping all day either. It was good to get out without having to worry about being in the way or benign in pain and having to stop every few minutes. 

By the end of the day, he's feeling much better than before when you deliver him back to his room. He'd probably ask you to do it until his injury heals, you oblige. 

🫧 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 “𝐒𝐨𝐚𝐩” 𝐌𝐚𝐜𝐓𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡 🫧

Soap's encounter with a shrapnel grenade left him with a nasty wound, not just on his body but also on his pride. Despite the pain, he tried to play it off, not wanting to show any vulnerability.

You found Soap sitting in a corner, nursing his wound, a mix of frustration and pain evident on his face. With your assistance, Soap made his way back to the base, leaning on you for support. 

He was frustrated and reduced to bed rest, which didn't settle well with him. Sure he could walk but the feelings of holes in his skin remained. It made him twitch and cringe. 

You quickly took note of his discomfort whenever you saw him hobbling out and about. You hated Seeing Sopa down, and in pain, even if he tried to joke through that discomfort. 

You decided to joke about it, no matter your reserved exterior. So one day, Soap was longingly watching the others train from the sidelines, leaning up against the wall. You casually walked up to him, crouched behind him, and put your head between his legs. 

“Uh, Inferus? You alrigh’ Mate?” 

You dont respond, but you stand, forcing Soap over and back to back with you and his knees on your shoulders. You held him there by his ankles as he tried to fight it. He called out and struggled, which caught the attention of the others training.

They thought it hilarious, but you could tell Soap was getting flustered so you took him out.  You helped him upright so he could sit on your shoulders while you were outside. 

He started to enjoy it more once outside, you could tell he was starting to feel in better spirits because he cracked genuine jokes 

Whether he's feeling down in the dumps or in pain from his injury, he will flop back over so he's hanging upside down and it somehow makes him feel better. He thinks it's funny how you're doing your work with him on your shoulders like a parrot. 

He brags about being taller than the others when sitting on your shoulders, Gaz definitely tried to pull him down but Soap pulled the “Nuh un im injured” card and Gaz backed off, fuming. 

Soap insists on you doing it every day, until you realize his injuries have healed and he's just doing it to bother you. Even after his injury has healed he will sometimes as you to give him a shoulder ride or to hang him upside down. You oblige for the fun of it.

CRYING AND SCREAMING 😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Hi idk if you're accepting requests but I literally just read the amnesia fic, and I was wondering if I could request where reader suddenly remembers everything, and sprints around base trying to find them, and just jumps on them crying and apologizing for forgetting them. Just some really fluffy comfort? It's okay if you don't want to write this lol

the 141 when you have amnesia – p2

note: i have received your therapy bills :)

wc: 5.2k

warnings: still a bit angsty I'm sorry I couldn't resist, fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injury and blood, happy endings for all I promise

ao3

[part one]

price

✹ john thought your initial reaction was a good sign. you seemed to be taking things well, considering the extent of your injuries, and it was only a matter of time before your memories returned.

✹ your spirits are high when you're reintroduced to the team, and though you don't remember them either you do say they feel familiar, which he takes as a good sign for your recovery.

✹ when you're finally discharged, he takes you home, to the house that the two of you bought together. he shows you the photos of the two of you that decorate the walls, fondly retelling the stories of each one to you even though you were there, and these are your pictures.

✹ if you notice the way he chokes up when you get to your wedding photos, you don't say anything.

✹ like the true gentleman he is, he insists on sleeping on the sofa and leaving you to take the bed, despite your protests about it being his home too. even though you were receptive, he would never risk making you uncomfortable by sleeping in the same bed when he was, essentially, a stranger.

✹ in all your years of marriage, he's never slept on the sofa before. the two of you rarely go to bed without each other, apart from the times you're separated by your job, and consequently he finds himself not getting much rest.

✹ you're still on leave while you're physically recovering from being in a coma, so john has to go to work without you every morning, something he also hasn't done since you got married. he wishes he could bring you with him anyway, just to have you near him, but he knows that's selfish and you still need time.

✹ the base is dull without you.

✹ again, he keeps up the appearance that he's okay, and maybe it's a little more true this time now that you're actually awake, but he still feels your absence like a weight on his shoulders.

✹ the other three are pleased amongst themselves about your recovery, gaz and soap constantly asking him how you are; and he knows they mean well, but it's still irritating because how could you be okay? you don't even remember your own husband, nothing about this is okay.

✹ he keeps his grievances to himself though. he's still their captain, he can't afford to fall apart when he still has a job to do.

✹ he's woken up one night by soft footsteps in the living room. his neck aches as his eyes snap open, every sense on high alert until he realises it's just you. a quiet grunt escapes him as he sits up, massaging his sore muscles from sleeping on the sofa.

✹ when the sound of muffled crying reaches his ears, he's immediately on his feet, his heart racing as he shuffles over to where you're standing with a hand covering your mouth.

✹ he presses a hand to your back, rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. you don't look at him, your crying only increasing in volume now you're not worried about waking him.

✹ now that he's right next to you, he sees through the darkness that you're holding one of your wedding photos. it's his favourite picture, the one where he's lifting you with an arm around your waist and you're both gazing into each other's eyes with the most lovestruck expression on your faces.

✹ "i– i know i love you, so wh-why can't i just remember you?" you sputter in between sobs, and you might as well have just ripped his heart out of his chest, because he can't stop the way he breaks down at your words.

✹ john wraps both arms tightly around you, caging you to his chest and nestling your head into the crook of his shoulder while pressing his own tear-stained face into the top of your head.

✹ "it's alright, love–" his voice cracks pitifully, and he's never felt quite as hopeless as he does in this moment. "it'll be alright, you'll remember, i promise…"

✹ he's not sure who he's trying to convince, you or himself as you both sink to the floor in each other's embrace. you stay like that for hours, crying for your lost memory into the early morning.

✹ after that, he can't be bothered to pretend he's okay anymore.

✹ he starts drinking again, shamelessly in the middle of the day and grumbling at gaz and ghost when they wrestle the bottle away from him. he knows you'd disapprove, but the toll of lying to himself and everyone around him has caught up. all he wanted was his partner back, the love of his life, you.

✹ the others try to knock some sense into him, but talking to him becomes like going back and forth with a brick wall. gaz even gets kate on the phone to yell at him, but nothing seems to get through. he orders them to leave him alone, stop asking about you, and it really feels like he's lost hope.

✹ it goes on like this for a week straight, nearly a full month since you first woke up.

✹ and then one boring afternoon, there's a commotion outside his office. john hears cheers and shouts from down the corridor, but he can't bring himself to care enough to investigate.

✹ he's not in the mood to celebrate whatever it is they're cheering about anyway.

✹ john's just about to stand and yell at them to shut up, but then you're suddenly standing at his door, slamming it behind you as you rush over to his desk. his face must be the picture of surprise as he swivels in his chair to follow you as you approach, opening his legs for you to stand between them.

✹ his breath catches in his throat as you cup his face, your touch so tender it has his heart hammering against his sternum like the very first time you touched him all those years ago. he plants his hands firmly on your hips, too afraid of getting his hopes up to say a single word as he watches you get closer.

✹ your face hovers just above his, warm breath fanning over his face as you inch ever closer. he sees your eyes glistening before they flutter shut, brushing your lips against his with an anticipation that has his skin tingling.

✹ when you pull away, his eyes stay closed, but he can hear the smile in your voice when you whisper,

✹ "i remember you now."

✹ his heart might’ve actually stopped at your words, surprise shooting through him like a bolt of lightning as his eyes snap open.

✹ in a second, he's lifting you by the waist and dropping you onto his desk, uncaring for the various papers that he brushes out of the way to make room for you.

✹ he can't stop the overjoyed laugh that rumbles in his chest now he's the one standing between your legs, gripping your face and pushing his lips back against your with all the passion he's been bottling up during your recovery.

✹ you smile into the kiss too, wrapping your arms securely around his neck, running your fingers up his neck and through his hair. it feels like a weight has lifted, something heavy in the back of his mind finally dissipating and allowing him to relax into your hold.

✹ the two of you break away after a moment, keeping him close to you as you press your forehead to his. "i'm sorry that i ever forgot you."

✹ "i can think of a way you can make it up to me, love…"

gaz

✹ you're so apologetic about your amnesia, it breaks his heart all over again. what's worse is that he has no idea what to do; he doesn't want to try and force you to remember, that would just stress you out more, but he wants you to remember him so desperately he feels it ache in his bones.

✹ in the end, he decides to just let things play out. he wants you to recover at your own pace, and not just because of him and how he feels about you.

✹ he also doesn't say a word about your relationship, but with how he initially reacted, he's sure you got the idea. you don't mention it either, which admittedly hurts a little, but he's sure the confusion of waking up to having a boyfriend who's name you don't even know is worse than how he feels about it.

✹ kyle vows to take care of you the moment you're discharged. he takes you to your room, shows you where everything is, makes sure you know where he is should you ever need anything, and he even introduces you to the others again.

✹ you still remember your job and how to do it so, once you're physically well enough, you get right back to it. they carry on as normal, the rest of the taskforce – assimilating you back into their nights of drinking and fucking around as if you'd never left.

✹ kyle still doesn't feel right about it.

✹ he doesn't want to treat you like glass, because you're exactly the same as when he first met you. you're still quick-witted, stubborn, and one of the toughest people he knows, you just… don't know him.

✹ it kills him on the inside, but he stays strong for you; the last thing he wants is to become the mess of a man he was when you were out, he doesn't want you to see him like that. he sorely misses spending his nights with you, and talking endlessly about your days to each other. he sends you longing glances every time you look away, wondering if you'd ever feel the same again.

✹ if you can go back to living normally, why can't he?

✹ but as the weeks go by, kyle notices how you start to withdraw, the loneliness that blocks out the light in your eyes that he loves so much. you fade into the background of conversations, sticking to listening rather than engaging.

✹ you watch them from afar, and he still knows you well enough to know what's going through your head. feeling somehow like you belong and also like an outsider at the same time, wishing you could understand the inside jokes you were a part of.

✹ he wishes more than anything that there was something he could do – make you understand that you're wanted, and you're a valuable part of the team even without your memories, but any time he brings it up you simply brush him off with that far away look in your eyes.

✹ three weeks go by before anything changes.

✹ it's the first time in a while they finally have an afternoon off, so of course they decide to spend it playing football on one of the fields within the bounds of the base. soap and ghost on one team, gaz and the captain on the other, with you spectating and keeping score on the sidelines. 

✹ kyle offered to sit out if you wanted to play, but you'd brushed him off with the excuse of wanting to rest and read your book, laying out your jacket on the grass to sit on.

✹ he could tell you weren't all there, but he didn't know how to help you; so he just reassured you that you could call him over if you needed anything, and left you to guard his own jacket and water bottle before running off to join the game.

✹ the whole time he was sprinting around the field, he couldn't stop looking over to you over by the sidelines. he wasn't with it, he hadn't been since you woke up, really, and the others could tell.

✹ price abruptly calls half-time, clapping gaz on the shoulder and giving him a knowing look. "just talk to 'em, before it eats you alive." he chides, pushing him in your direction before he can think to protest.

✹ with a deep sigh and a glace backwards to the others, who shoo him away without a word, he jogs over to where you're sitting. the way the late afternoon sun hits you just right stops kyle dead in his tracks when he catches how it glows in your eyes. he feels a pull in his chest as he approaches you.

✹ you look up from your book as his shadow reaches you, shooting him a tiny smile as he drops himself next to you. he takes a swig from his water bottle as he catches his breath, extremely conscious of the way your teammates are pretending not to watch him while he comes up with the words.

✹ "so, who's winning then?" you ask, turning so you're facing him. he sees how your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes.

✹ "aren't you supposed to be keepin' score?" kyle chuckles, shifting slightly closer to you as you look away with a bashful expression. he allows your hands to brush, wanting nothing more than to lock your fingers together.

✹ "i'm not really paying attention."

✹ there's a beat of silence and that helpless feeling is back as he watches you look back out to the field, where the others are still kicking the ball back and forth.

✹ "how you doin'?" he asks, keeping his voice low as he leans in even closer to you. your mouth opens to respond, that slightly off smile back on your face, but before you can he places his hand fully over yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. "actually."

✹ you sigh, heavy and tired, and bring your gaze back over to his. "it's… hard." you begin, your eyes betraying the internal struggle. "and i'm… i know, before, we were–"

✹ he blinks and you're being sent over backwards by a football flying into your face with a smack that makes kyle's ears ring.

✹ immediately he's crouching over you, helping you sit back up and pressing the sleeve of his jacket to your nose, uncaring for the blood that stains it.

✹ "you alright?" he murmurs, gently holding your face as he inspects your nose. you nod, wincing at the movement, and take the sleeve of his jacket from him.

✹ once he's sure you're okay, his vision turns red with anger. it's pretty obvious who kicked the ball when he whips around to see soap kneeling on the ground with his head in his hands.

✹ "oi!" kyle shouts, sending him a deadly glare as he gets up. "soap, what the fuck!"

✹ the man in question looks up from his hands, an incredibly guilty look on his face. "i'm sorry pal! i dinnae ken what happened!"

✹ "just piss off, you prick!"

✹ kyle looks back to you, crouching down again with a concerned frown; but you're already looking at him, the silhouette of his own form reflected in your wide eyes. your nose is still dripping blood, but you drop his jacket and your hands to your lap anyway, mouth agape as you stare back at him.

✹ "what's wrong? are you–"

✹ you cut him off by tackling him to the ground with your arms around his neck, squeezing a surprised 'oof' from him as you land on top of his chest. one of his hands flies to your waist to steady you, the other carefully cradling your head.

✹ "i remember!" you cry, an elated laugh bubbling up as fresh tears wet your cheeks.

✹ kyle lets out a relieved laugh of his own, craning his neck to plant his lips firmly on yours with an infectious grin. in the background the others groan at the display of affection, but neither of you pay them any mind.

✹ eventually the two of you pull away, a wide smile still plastered on both of your faces as you get up from the grass. he pulls you in with the hand that still hasn't moved from your waist and leans to whisper in your ear,

✹ "fancy kickin' soap's arse?"

✹ "you read my mind."

soap

✹ johnny's enthusiastic with your recovery. anyone could've guessed that from the moment you woke up he'd be doting, eager to help you in any way you could need.

✹ yes, you didn't remember him, but be was just so ecstatic that you were okay – apart from the amnesia – that he couldn't find it in himself to be disappointed about it. you'd get your memories back soon enough, and then everything would go right back to the way it was.

✹ sometimes he gets a little carried away, forgets that while you are technically in a relationship, he's not much more than a stranger to you right now. more than once you end up having to ask him for some space because he's so incredibly touchy, and you're not sure how to handle it.

✹ you also request a temporary room to sleep in while you recover, separate from him. johnny's not sure how he feels about it.

✹ he feels that sinking feeling in his chest whenever you push him back with a hand on his chest, a polite smile tugging at your lips. it's disheartening, but he tries not to let it get to him. you'll remember soon, and then this will all be in the past.

✹ maybe you'll even laugh about it, how you could ever forget your wonderful boyfriend.

✹ he takes it upon himself to read up on amnesia, so he can better understand how to help you in any way you might need. once he learns that exposure to memories that you've lost can help your recovery, he eagerly convinces you to let him show you places that have meaning to you and your relationship with him.

✹ you agree, and he didn't actually need to do much convincing because you seem just as interested in the idea as him. he knocks on your door the following evening, offering you a single rose before whisking you away with a charming smile.

✹ he takes you on your first date all over again, with the same level of enthusiasm as before. he treats you to dinner at a relatively nice restaurant, telling you all about how the two of you got together in the first place, and memories you have together. he even orders you dessert, recalling with a chuckle how he accidentally guessed your favourite on your actual first date.

✹ once you both finish eating, he guides you by the hand to the canal for the second half of the date, a romantic moonlit stroll by the water. he pulls you close with an arm around your shoulders, meeting your eyes with a fond smile and a blush dusting his cheeks.

✹ "hold on…" you mutter, a pensive expression taking over your face as you stop walking. you turn to gaze at the water, seemingly working something out in your mind. "this… this is where gaz fell into the river that one time, right?"

✹ johnny's heart misses a beat, his eyes lighting up with renewed, excited hope as he grins at you. "you remember?"

✹ "a little, yeah," you smile, dropping your gaze and hands from his with a sorry scratch at the back of your neck. "the rest is still blank, though…"

✹ his smile falters, but he's quick to make sure you don't see his disappointment by pulling you into a reassuring hug. "that's still somethin'! you'll be good as new in nae time!"

✹ the next morning, he finds you and gaz in the rec room on one of the couches, talking animatedly with each other. that familiar shine is in your eyes, the sight johnny's been missing for the last few months. it makes his heart feel light, finally seeing you acting like your normal self again after so long.

✹ he approaches you both, watching you fondly as you talk and laugh with gaz, but his good mood is soured when you only briefly acknowledge his arrival when he sits down across from you, before resuming your conversation with gaz. his brow twitches downwards.

✹ gaz is one of your closest friends, and he’s glad you remembered him. he's happy that you got part of your memory back, even if it wasn't a part that included him.

✹ this was a good thing. you'd remember him soon, he was sure of it.

✹ a few more days pass until anything else notable happens. while you were in the gym together, you told him you felt a headache coming on, so he offered to walk you to the infirmary for some painkillers. the casual conversation you made on the way wouldn't have bothered him before, but he just couldn't shake the image of you and gaz being so comfortable, while he's still stuck on the outside.

✹ he doesn't say anything though. making you feel bad about it won't solve anything, and it's not like you're doing it on purpose, he knows you wouldn't do that to him. you were just excited to have a familiar face, that's all.

✹ while you're waiting for the medic on call, your head suddenly snaps to attention and you get that same pensive look on your face as that night by the river.

✹ "you got something?" johnny asks, bringing his hand up to rest on your upper back. he doesn't want to get his hopes up, but he can't help the way his heart flutters with optimism.

✹ you nod, a smile growing on your features. "i remember that time lt. dislocated my shoulder, and price basically forced him apologise to me," you laugh, thankfully facing away from johnny as his lips turn downwards, "god, he was pissed, it was honestly kinda funny."

✹ "what, uhm…" he lightly clears his throat, hoping you don't hear the dejection in his voice, "what about me?"

✹ you meet his eyes again with an apologetic shake of your head. "i'm sorry, soap…"

✹ "yer fine, it's–" he swallows thickly, waving you off with an exaggerated smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "this is good, it's progress."

✹ since then, he's given you more space. it's clear to him that his efforts aren't helping you remember him, it actually feels like it's having the opposite effect. of course, he's glad you remember your friends, but you still don't remember him – your own boyfriend.

✹ it's wrong, and he knows it is, but he's jealous.

✹ he has to watch you carry on like usual, without him. you haven't set foot in the room you used to share together since before you were comatose. he's done his best to disguise how much it hurts, but it still annoys him how no one else seems to notice how wrong it all is. the others don't need you like he does, they don't lay awake at night going over every moment, treasuring the time you called him yours, yearning with every fibre of his being to go back.

✹ it's been a month and a half since you woke up, six weeks of being so close yet so unbearably far from you. he prays to any god that will listen to bring you back to him, allow him to hold you in his arms once more, but nothing ever changes.

✹ the thread he's been hanging on by ever since you went down on that mission gone wrong is one more bad day away from snapping.

✹ he's approached by gaz one morning, while waiting for the others to begin training, who takes it upon himself to ask johnny about how you're recovering. when gaz teases him about how he was the first person you remembered, and johnny thinks he might just strangle him.

✹ "careful, soap, i might steal 'em away," gaz laughs, patting his shoulder with a camaraderie soap scoffs at.

✹ "shut the fuck up." he snarls, his face bunched in a strikingly out of character scowl. his hands twitch at his sides, nails digging painfully into his palms.

✹ gaz blinks, his eyebrows shooting up, clearly taken aback by the hostility from his friend. "alright, i was only jokin', mate."

✹ "aye, well, i'm nae laughin'."

✹ the tension is stifling. he can tell gaz wants to say something more, but he holds his tongue – too worried about upsetting soap any further.

✹ they stand in silence with each other like that for a while, gaz watching him from the corner of his eye while he keeps his gaze firmly on the grass below him.

✹ thankfully, after not too long the uneasy atmosphere is interrupted by a shout from the direction of the building, "johnny!"

✹ his head snaps to attention to see you, grinning uncontrollably and sprinting towards him at full speed.

✹ "wha–" he's caught off guard by how you leap into his arms, hooking your arms around his neck as he stumbles backwards in surprise.

✹ before he has time to question your actions, you're smashing your lips against his in a searing kiss that has johnny's head spinning. he wastes no time in reciprocating, securing one arm around your waist and bringing the other to the back of your head, using it you press you impossibly closer to him as he groans into your mouth.

✹ you reluctantly pull away, just enough to take a shaky breath, but johnny's had stays put on the back of your head. "i'm sorry i forgot, i'm sorry…" you mumble against his lips, dragging your fingers through the unkempt hair of his mohawk.

✹ he drops his head into the juncture of you neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply the scent of you that he's gone so long without. he laughs into you, slightly delirious and just so overjoyed to have you in his arms again that feels his eyes sting with tears.

✹ "i've missed you, bonnie," he chuckles wetly, pressing his lips back to yours in another desperate kiss, "i've missed you so much,"

✹ "i'll never forget you again."

ghost

✹ he avoids you like the plague.

✹ or he tries to, at least. but truth be told, after spending so much time learning to be vulnerable around you and allowing you into his guarded heart, it's difficult to go back to being a stranger to you.

✹ that, and he doesn't actually want to.

✹ but he needs to. being around you, the love of his life, knowing that you don't remember him, it's like a knife stuck between his ribs. any time he's in the same room as you he finds himself fighting the urge to grab your hand, or press his forehead against you.

✹ he knows you don't want him anymore, the last thing you deserve is a giant of a man – who you're clearly afraid of, even if you won't say it – hanging around you like a shadow.

✹ you're still kind to him, because of course you are, checking in on him and trying to talk to him any opportunity you get. it's nice, sometimes he can even pretend everything is normal when he shares a laugh with you, but then he sees the hesitance in your eyes and he's brought back to the cold reality of the situation.

✹ the weeks drag like this, every fleeting look from you another bleeding wound on his heart.

✹ he keeps it together surprisingly well, all things considered, but the breaking point comes when you find him having a smoke one night, on a bench just outside the barracks.

✹ "simon?" your voice cuts through the silence, his eyes snapping to you as you sit down next to him. he takes another long drag from his cigarette as he watches you, uncertainty in your voice as you continue, "can you tell me about… me? and us?"

✹ no matter how much he thinks he should, he can't look away from your pleading gaze.

✹ "we… you're everything to me," simon mutters, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with the heel of his boot, "i've never felt the way i do with you before, you've helped me more than you could ever know…"

✹ his vision blurs with unshed tears. the sadness on your face starts and ache in his heart, the desire to take you into his arms and just hold you making his skin bristle.

✹ "you don't have to feel the same way, but…" he pulls the balaclava from his head, setting it on the bench in the space between you, bearing his face to you like he always does, "even if you never get your memory back, i'll always love you."

✹ the way you look at him makes it so incredibly difficult not to cry. your eyes are glassy and far away, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth with an expression that screams guilt – but it's not your fault, and he'd never blame you.

✹ you open your mouth to say something, but the words never materialise. the night stays silent, and simon expects it, but it still makes his bones ache with a heaviness that he knows he can't shake.

✹ he stands, picking up his balaclava, and walks quietly past you to the barracks door. there's no fleeting look, not this time. he disappears to his room without another word.

✹ he's not sure how much later it is when he hears a knock on his door. minutes, hours, it didn't matter. it all blends together now.

✹ when he doesn't bother to answer, whoever it is lets themselves in, shutting the door gently behind themselves. he sits up with the intention of chewing them out, but when he opens his eyes they land on your form, curled in on yourself and shuffling quickly over to him.

✹ you're here, in his room, with a face that looks like you've been crying for hours, puffy and tear-stained with bloodshot eyes.

✹ he almost thinks he's dreaming, but the warmth as you wrap your arms around him and bring his face to your chest is too real, too familiar. he brings his arms up  around your waist, releasing a shaky sigh into your skin as he squeezes you tighter against him.

✹ a few hot tears meet the top of his head as you whisper to him the words he's been waiting, longing to hear, rocking gently from side to side.

✹ "i remember, si."

✹ it feels like he can finally rest, like the state of being he's been living in for the last few months melts away with your touch and he feels safe again.

✹ with his grip around your waist, he hoists you onto his bed to lay back down with him, holding you tightly against his chest, your heart right beside his own racing one.

✹ you cradle his face again, pressing your lips to his face over and over, touching every inch of him with your love.

✹ "i'm sorry…" you whisper like a mantra, punctuating every kiss with an apology that makes his throat constrict with the raw emotion he feels. "i'm sorry,"

✹ "don't be…" he mirrors how you hold his face, tangling his legs with yours as he captures your mouth and pours every ounce of passion he has into the way he kisses you. "don't be, love."

SEVERELY UNDERRATED HELP

Sea of Cortéz | Price x Daughter! Reader | Ch.2

Pairing: Price + Daughter! Reader, Reader x OC, TF-141 x Platonic! Reader

Warnings: 🔪- blood mentions

Edited: No

A/N: The suspense. That’s all I’ll say. NCIS is mentioned here! Hopefully as the chapters progress the word count increases. It’s 5am and I haven’t slept :/

Masterlist 

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 [Here] | Ch. ?

Character banner ©️ Me

2.

“… So, this Gunny is going to become a Medal of Honor recipient?” Price stood from the bench. 

Laswell nodded her head. “Yes… he will. It’s practically guaranteed that in a few weeks the proposal will be on the President’s desk and signed.” She sighed. “Let’s talk more in private.”

She led them to a small room that usually held debriefings but was now converted into a storage room. The projector and computer monitors were still up and covered in dust. 

“Tell us more about the Gunny, Laswell.” Gaz looked at her and then to his Captain in worry. They both sat in the old chairs, arms resting on the light gray table. 

Laswell sat across from them. “Well, he went through a lot in the last few years. Put his poor wife through lots of heartache with his recovery and all…”

“Wife?” Both Gaz and Price questioned. John shook his head. Was the Gunny cheating? 

“Yes? They’ve been married for several years now. I’ve collaborated on several occasions with her.” Kate leaned forward. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Kate, this man knows my daughter.” John stuffed his hand into his pocket and pulled out the skimpy photo of his little girl, now grown woman. 

Laswell’s eyes widened, but then her expression changed to an awkward grin. “That’s his wife. Y/N Cortéz, that’s your daughter?”

“You know her by name? How do you know my daughter?” But instead of saying Price after her name, she said Cortéz. John was becoming more confused by the second. His knee was bouncing slightly and his hand was messing with his beard. It took him a moment to process all of her words. “Wait-, you said Cortéz? She… she’s never told me that she was seeing anyone let alone married to them. What the hell is going on here, Kate?”

“I-I don’t know what to say, John. She’s never mentioned her side of the family before. Just her in-laws and their kid.”

“Kid?” Price stood up, palms slamming on the table. “Do you mean to tell me that I have a grandchild out there?”

Kate put a hand to her mouth in shock. “My god… you didn’t know.” Her eyes wandered off to the wall, contemplating. “You don’t know what the life of your daughter has been for… years now?”

“No. Which makes no bloody sense since I talk to her every chance I get!” His voice rose in frustration. Kyle felt like he was in some poor written soap opera that his aunties would watch when he was younger and had stayed with them. On second thought, it was every time he saw them. 

“John, Y/N works with me in CIA. She’s a Special Agent in the counterterrorism division.” Price sat back down heavily. “Umm, I have resources in the Naval Criminal Investigative Service that could lend a helping hand on this situation. I’ll give them a call, since the Gunny is a Marine and Y/N is a dependent so she falls under their jurisdiction.”

“Thank you, Kate.” John paused. “I hope they can set everything straight.”

With that Kate left the room. She couldn’t believe that the girl whose office was only a few doors down from hers was the daughter of her best task force Captain. Kate shook her head as theories ran through her mind. Pulling out her phone she dialed a number. She hoped that the late hour in Washington wouldn’t be a bother to the person on the other line. 

“Sorry it’s so late, Jethro.”

~~~~~

Price stayed where he was for a moment just staring off into space. Only startled by Kyle placing his hand on his shoulder. “Maybe we should head back to the med tent and see if there are any updates on the Gunny?”

Price looked at the younger man and then rose to his feet. “Yeah, there’s no use just sitting here.”

They soon found themselves in their previous position on that old bench. Waiting for any news. An hour passed by when a doctor, presumably the surgeon who operated on Cortéz, exited the OR and came up to them. 

“My guess is that you guys were the ones who found Gunny Cortéz?” She looked at them attentively. 

“Yes, we found ‘im.” Both John and Kyle stood up. John continued, “He’s still alive, right? No complications?”

“Yes, he’s been taken care of. Lots of bleeding so he needed a few blood transfusions. No head trauma, but he’ll be in and out of consciousness for a while. He might need another surgery if we find anymore bullet fragments.” She looked between the two of them. “He’ll be moved to a different room in just a few moments. Next of kin will be notified of his condition and efforts will be made to get him back to the states.”

Price thanked the doctor and shook her hand. He had a lot to think about and he was definitely going to send a rather strong message to his daughter about the situation. 

~~

Dad: I know about your husband. 

Seen

Dad: Hey, Y/N, I know you’ve seen this. Answer 

Seen

Dad: Hello? Y/N

Seen

Dad: Hey! What’s going on? Answer me Y/N!

Delivered 

Dad: Y/N? Are you okay? Please

Not Delivered 

Taglist:

@rand0m--fangirl @starre-eyes

WHAT 😭

i lost my hamster… anywayyyyy, two fics should be posted by today or tmrw<3