Call of Duty OneShots

❤️[Dad Jokes PT1]{Ghost+Soap}❤️

Match: Ghost x Soap x Male reader

Warnings: Talk of military loss

Authors Note: I had someone request this one. I will admit, this was inspired by a comic strip I have found (that I cannot share here because I will never see the light of day again.)

"MacTavish, Riley, L/N, you three are bunkies. Let's go, grab your shit and make your beds." Looking up at the woman who had just uglily shouted your last names, you grimace. You three were separate ranks, all at least one up from the other. Why in the hell would she put you all under one roof? Was the army that desperate? It seemed like at least one of your bunkmates wasn't exactly keen on that idea either, also giving her a look. This man you only knew from a few random missions. Callsign- Ghost. You found this to be quite odd as he didn't resemble a ghost, but rather a skull. He should be called Bones or something. The other man was easy to know, Johnny MacTavish. Everyone knew this fellow, having made a name for himself as "that one guy who..." and you could fill in the blank with just about anything. Soap was a dumbass callsign too, at least Ghost's somewhat made sense to you. Was Soap just a clean guy? Or did something happen? Maybe that's the name they give soldiers who "drop the soap" on their first day of training. It all doesn't matter; you would be sharing a room. 

It was clear from the very start that Ghost would refuse to take his facial covering off, even going so far as sleeping with his head covered by the blanket as well. The room was arranged semi-neatly. You and Soap shared a bunk, and Ghost had a single bed to himself. Although you were unsure why, you could take a guess as to say Ghost didn't enjoy company. In the current moment, you all were unpacking. Soap was a light packer, keeping various things and clothes with him. Small photographs of his family (including a small beagle he adopted back home named Sunny. Ghost was very different, having needed everything to himself. His tea and coffee sets, memorabilia, several spare masks and clothing, books, activities, and even some candies. Most of the items he had brought where from England. Items he stated that were necessities in his life. "Y/n, what is your callsign," Simon asks, his light honey eyes staring into your soul. 

You had never really thought of that before, only going with what people had assigned you as. "Don't have one. Call me whatever you want, with reason of course." You place your hands into your pockets, leaning slightly against the bottom bunk. Soap had wanted the top bunk and you really could have cared less in the moment. 

"Well, you need one. Makes it easier in stealth missions. Life or death kid, life or death." He seems...serious. Sure, whatever. That will be a later you problem. Watching him walk off, you give a small sigh of relief.

"Don't beat yourself up on this, Ghost is hard on the people he cares about." He places his arm on your right shoulder carefully. "He's a tough love type of guy y'know?" He adjusts his mohawk. 

Gee. Thanks. 

"Hm, don't worry about it. I grew up as the youngest sibling out of four, so I get it. He wants us to know he cares and is just a big softie," you make sure to state the last bit louder out of spite for Ghost, getting a muffled response,

"Mmhm, piss off." At least he admits it. You look around the room and place your own belongings into several storage containers, smiling at one specific item. It was a small paper crane your oldest brother had given you before he was killed in action. You were the last of your brothers to be drafted. 

"You know how to fold paper," Soap asks.

"Only if you count making a snowball. Other than that, I have no idea," you crack a joke, only getting a stifle of a laugh from Soap.

"A little army humor?" Ghost asks.

"Aw shite don't start him up. He'll tell the absolute worst dad jokes ever," Soap complains.

You already have a feeling it was too late.

"Two goldfish are in a tank; one looks at the other and goes-"

"Do you know how to drive this thing?" Soap butts in, smirking. "You told me this one over and over again over comms. Got boring after a while. You stifle a chuckle as well. So, Ghost reuses old dad jokes huh? Soap climbs up the ladder to your bunk, relaxing onto his back. 

"Simon?" You ask, climbing into your own bed as well. You wait a few seconds before repeating yourself, "Simon?"

"Heard you the first time solider." He turns his head slightly to look at you. 

"I got a joke for you to add to your list." Rolling to glance at the other, you smirk at him. 

"A bear walks into a bar, sitting on the stool. The bartender seems amazed at this, asking the bear for his order." You pause for a second, analyzing his reactions. 

"Mhm?"

"You know what, Soap give me a drink of choice," your attention turns to Soap. 

"Oh erm...some grouse on the rocks?" He adds, thinking to himself a drink of choice. 

"So, the bear turns to the bartender and goes, "Hm, a shot of grouse on the rocks annndd.......some soda please?" The bartender turns and goes why-"

"Why the long paws?" Ghost asks, crossing his arms.

"Let em finish, Simon." Soap glares at the other.

You continue, "So the bartender turns and goes, "Why the long paws?" And the bear mauls em." Ghost chuckled warmly at that, surely not expecting that one. Soap seemed more or less concerned for your mental sanity.

"Not bad kid. Here's one for you. Why can't blind guys skydive?" 

Soap holds up a finger, getting shushed by Ghost. "MacTavish." He shuts his mouth.

"Why?" You ask.

"Scares the shit out of their dogs." 

"That was...bad" Laughing at how bad the joke was, you cover your mouth to stop the laugh. "Oh, that was really bad." Soap nods in agreement. Ghost frowns under the mask, kicking his feet up on the bed frame.

"Aright, one more. What do you call a fly without wings?" He seemed really excited about this one. Your dad would always tell you this one. A walk.

"I... don't know? Maybe like a dead fly?" You lie, looking at Soap who also knew the answer. 

"A walk." You fake a laugh for him, the same going for Soap.

Looking at the two of them, you roll over on your bed, covering yourself with a blanket and laying your head on a pillow. "Alrighty, well. I am going to bed, good night dumbfucks. Tell me  more jokes in the mornin."

"Don't temp him," Soap mumbled, also covering himself up.

"Mm, don't tempt me," Ghost adds.

[Unedited]

Word count:  1151