#cod soap fluff

[shroompette]

It's not like his mates didn't know about you; Soap always bragged about the sweet little bird he had at home. They just had no idea that he was being...literal.

After the latest successful mission, Johnny invited them for a dinner at his place. They arrive around seven, with bottles and flowers as gifts for the missus, but she's nowhere to be found when Johnny beckons them inside. "She'll be here any minute. Bird gets antsy if she doesn't have a flight before dinner." He opens the window wide and peeks out, as if looking for you. Ghost huffs. "She a bloody Batman or something?"

Johnny simply chuckles and crosses his arms on his chest, leaning against the radiator.

Not even five minutes later, a tiny European robin lands on the inside windowsill. They recognize the bird; it was Johnny's favourite to draw. At least that's what they assumed when they watched him flip through his art book during missions. Pages and pages of birds, but this specific one appeared the most often; raven, cardinal, canary, robin, crow, swan, robin, robin, blue tit, swallow, robin, woodpecker, robin, hummingbird, pigeon, robin, robin, robin...

"Aye, there's my little feathery luvie," Johnny coos, finger gently stroking down the orange patch on the bird's chest.

Gaz and Price exchange a slightly concerned look while Ghost gives him a deadpan stare.

"I told you, one of these days, you'll stand too close to an explosion and it's gonna fuck with your head."

Johnny glances at him briefly, opening his palm and letting the robin hop into it. "Dinnae know what yer talking about."

"Son," Price began, a tired look on his face. "You...you don't think of the bird as your partner, do you?"

"What else would she be?" he questions, looking genuinely surprised, as if there's nothing unusual about claiming the little chirping thing in his hand is his girlfriend.

Gaz lets out a snort of disbelief, unsure if he should laugh or be seriously concerned for his friend.

Before anyone can say anything else, the robin flaps its wings and its form contorts into a human shape. Suddenly, there you stand. Dolled up and dressed in a cute little flowery dress, a bright smile on your face. The men sit there completely flabbergasted while Johnny, wearing the most shit-eating grin ever, leans in and kisses the top of your head before introducing you: "Guys, this is my darling bird."

After fumbling out awkward apologies and introducing themselves, the men dine with you two, asking how you met and where you're from. They're surprised to learn Johnny came across you while he took a trip to his motherland.

When he wasn't with his family, he'd spend the days in the forest, sketching whatever caught his eye. At one point, it was you. A cute little thing, perched up on a branch, singing sweet melodies to which he started responding with whistling. That supposedly caught your attention and you started posing while he sketched you. This would happen daily for nearly a week before you flew down and sat on his shoulder, looking at all the drawings of you, seemingly pleased.

One day, he brought you a pebble. It was just a goof, a funny little thing he remembered his superstitious granny saying whenever he'd walk with her in the nature as a little lad and point out all the different birds in the trees. "If ye give a pebble to a female robin, she'll bring you a pretty lass to cherish."

He was eager to see what you'd do with it and nearly fell on his ass when you shifted to a human in front of him in all your naked glory, holding the pebble in your palm, eyes sparkling and soft chirps flowing from your mouth. He had a very difficult time explaining to his Ma and siblings who this bare lady clinging to his arm was when he brought you home.

You still chirp when you talk, but your speech is pretty clear. Soap looks like a lovestruck puppy, heart-eyed, hanging onto your words and you're no better; pressed against his side at all times, batting your lashes and holding his hand under the table, your ring finger adorned by a golden band with the fateful (proposal) pebble in the middle.

[daisies-daydreams]

I feel as tho soap would come to the nail salon with us and think he could handle the same length his s/o (xl nails) and he break his first nail in like 2 hrs of getting them

If It Ain't Broke (Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x F!Reader)

Pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x F!Reader Category: Fluff Warnings: Swearing, Teasing, Innuendo(s) Word Count: 1k+ A/N: Omg yes 🤭Thank you for the fun request and I hope you enjoy!

“Are you sure about this, dolly?” your boyfriend scrunched his nose as the two of you walked towards the local nail salon. You rolled your eyes and giggled. 

“C’mon Johnny - we both know who won that bet last night,” you winked. Your boyfriend bit the inside of his cheek as both of you walked inside. 

“Hi (Y/N)!” one of the technicians chirped and waved from their station. You smiled back, your arm slung around Johnny’s as you dragged him towards the front counter. 

“Oh, so this is the infamous Johnny you’re always talking about,” the receptionist said as her eyes scanned him up and down. Your boyfriend chuckled and raised a brow at you. 

“Infamous, eh?” he smirked and nudged your elbow. The tips of your ears burned a little as you laughed nervously. 

“Don’t worry - (Y/N)’s only said good things about you,” she said with a short pause. “And I can see why,” the receptionist added while nibbling on the end of her pen. Your brows furrowed a little as you felt a twinge of jealousy strike through your chest. 

“Anywho, I heard you lost a bet last night, Mr. Army Man,” she mused with a raised brow. Your expression softened as you giggled. 

“Yep! Good ol’ Johnny just couldn't handle it,” you winked at your chiseled lover. Johnny snorted as he glanced away. 

“What was the bet exactly?” the receptionist whispered, her eyes lit with curiosity. You could practically hear Johnny’s chest tightened as you bit your lip. 

“Well you see, he was wondering how long either of us could-” 

“That’ll do,” Johnny said with a tense smile as he wrapped his hand over your mouth. The receptionist pursed her lips before typing on her keyboard, her vibrant, acrylic nails clacking against the keys before she smiled. 

“Well, you’re in for a treat today, Johnny,” she said with a bubbly voice. Your boyfriend tensed as he lowered his hand from your lips. 

“Guess that's one way to put it,” he sighed. The two of you were soon brought back, Johnny’s boots thudding against the tiled floor as his steps grew stiff. 

“C’mon, Johnny. The sooner you get them on, the sooner you can take them off,” you lilted before you were seated. 

“What size are we doing today, (Y/N)?” the technician across from you, Kim, asked as she tilted her head. You purse your lips before shifting your gaze towards Johnny. A smirk crept onto your face before you hummed. 

“XL Stilettos for me, please,” you beamed. Your smirk remained as Johnny sat down beside you. “Just a small for him,” you leaned over and whispered loudly. “He couldn’t handle anything larger,” you giggled. Johnny straightened up in his chair as he puffed out his chest. 

“Now hold on a second,” he began. You hummed as you held your hands out towards Kim.

“What’s wrong, Johnny?” you cooed. Your lover shot you a wry grin as he stared you down. 

“You don’t think I can handle what you wear, hm?” he murmured while holding his hands out for the technician across from him. You tilted your head side to side. 

“Mmm…nope!” you said. He huffed and poked his tongue out beneath his cheek. 

“Alright, I see how it is,” Johnny said before clearing his throat. “I’ll have what she’s having,” he told his technician. The two workers exchanged glances before giggling. 

“If you say so,” his technician shrugged before getting to work. 

+++

“Well, that wasn’t as painful as I thought it would be!” Johnny said as he spread his fingers out and flicked his hands back and forth. You laughed. 

“It’s not like it’s a nail transplant,” you teased playfully and bumped his arm. Johnny chuckled as the two of you walked inside your shared flat. “I just can’t believe you drove home in those,” you snickered. Your lover raised his brows as he closed the door behind you. 

“Yeah?” he asked as he tried to untie his boots, only to curse as his nails kept slipping against his shoelaces. You sighed as you stooped down and gracefully slipped your fingers across his laces. Johnny blinked as you rose back up to your feet. “Thanks, dolly,” a small blanket of pink tinted his cheeks as he looked away. 

“No problem,” you winked before sashaying to the living room. Your boyfriend followed you before the two of you plopped down on the couch and turned on the match. You laughed as he clicked his nails against each other, his eyes utterly fixated on the glossy sheen on the acrylic nails. 

“Enjoying yourself?” you mused. Johnny blinked before he set his arm over your shoulder. 

“A little,” he confessed with a quiet chuckle. You laughed and snuggled into his side before turning your attention back to the match playing on TV. You sighed and closed your eyes while Johnny mindlessly stroked his fingers through your hair, his wide chest rising and falling steadily. 

“Been thinking about what we should do before I go back,” your lover said. Your heart sank a little at the thought of him leaving again. You understood what his career entailed, but you couldn’t help the worry that gnawed at your heart every time you watched him walk out your door. 

“Well, maybe we could-” your eyes widened when you heard a sudden snapping sound right next to your ear. Johnny’s breath hitched as he slowly pulled his hand away, the whites of his eyes nearly swallowing his irises whole. You instantly burst into laughter as he held up his palm: one of his nails snapped clean. 

“How in the hell?!” he howled with laughter while shaking his head. The room was filled with your combined chuckling, your sides growing sore as your eyes watered incessantly. 

“Oh my God,” you laughed while wiping your eyes. Johnny’s breathing eventually calmed down before he sighed. “Thank you, Johnny. I really needed that laugh today,” you giggled before pressing a kiss to his cheek. Your boyfriend’s eyes lit up as his smile softened. 

“No problem, dolly,” he chuckled before pecking your lips. 

____

Thank you for reading! 🩷

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[joonieskinks]

simon ghost riley is sometimes a little blunt (warning: smut)

You adore him for who he is, but it still unnerves you with just how blunt he can be at times.

It usually happens privately with just you:

“In about 5 minutes, I’m gonna eat you out.” He says as you are in the middle of The Goblet of Fire on the couch. You almost choked on your popcorn.

Or you’re doing laundry in the morning. “We need pineapple juice next time we’re out, want you to enjoy swallowin next time you’re suckin me off.” Jaw dropped.

He does it in front of the team too- and sometimes it’s even worse:

You accidentally dropped your lip balm onto the bar floor while fishing it out of your purse and bend to pick it up.

“Haven’t seen that angle in a while, dove. It’s been too long since we done doggy.”

It’s a never-ending series of eyebrow raises when Simon decides to open up his mouth and you’re around, needless to say. You brunt all of the embarrassment and the deep blushes, Simon couldn’t give a shit. He didn’t even clock it when John, Johnny and Kyle would all give him shocked looks. Man just owns it. Completely unbothered.

“Youre wearin the skirt you wear when you wanna get fucked. That your goal?”

“Simon!” You hiss, you can feel the red hot heat rush to your face.

But he just stares back at you in earnest, waiting for your response. You can hardly believe how composed he is when his Captain is right there glaring at him.

“So?”

“I need another beer.” John excuses himself, he can’t even look you in the eyes right now. Kyle joins him shortly after making a run for it, but you’re left with a quiet Johnny patiently waiting for you to respond. Eager, almost. Joy.

“You can’t just say things like that in public, especially not in front of your friends!” You lecture, pulling down your skirt in the process.

“Why? If you wanted to fuck, you could’ve just said so, love. Give me 2 to down this pint and I’ll meet you in the toilets, yeah?”

“Simon!” You smack his thigh.

“Can I watch?” Johnny asks excitedly.

“No!-“ “Fine.”

Johnny’s face lights up while yours turns slowly to give Simon a death stare.

“Do you want it or not?” You roll your eyes and throw your purse over your shoulder.

“You two are ridiculous.” And they watch you walk away.

Simon only shrugs, pounding back his beer before coming after you. Doesn’t make a difference to him if he fucks you here and now or at home and later.

“… so is that a no?” Johnny asks with puppy eyes.

[lapetitepatisserie]

cod × fem!reader ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩

The familiar sound of keys in the door alerted you to your husband’s return.

“My love?” he called, looking for you, boots making heavy footsteps as he made his way towards you and your child. His eyes soften once they land on you and your baby girl.

“How’s my princess?” he drawls, voice deep with exhaustion from work.

You look down at the child sitting in your lap, occupied with trying to fit a chubby foot into her mouth. A steady finger reaches underneath your chin, lifting it to meet his warm, intense gaze.

“I’m talking about this one.”

[partiallysame]

Ghost gets no bitches and he reminds me of whatever that TikTok audio is that’s like “how’d you get her?” And the other person is like “get her? No she grabbed me by the throat and told me I was hers”.

Word count: 800

Warnings: none (ghost being immediately whipped)

So hear me out you’re at the grocery store and while walking down the aisles you see this behemoth of a man. Big muscle sexy, surgical mask covering his face. You want. What to say? How should you approach? Ah yes you need help getting something from the top shelf. Stepping so you’re in his line of sight

“Could you come here?” You ask him and he just gives you a blank stare. Raising your eyebrows clearly waiting for a response he turns around looking for who you could be talking to and who is clearly not listening to you. When he sees no one else in the aisle he slowly points at himself, questioning you. “Yes you.” You smile trying to hold in a laugh. Quickly adding a “please” in the sweetest little voice and he is scurrying over to you.

“Could you please reach that box for me?” Ghost raises his arm up and points to a box when you nod confirming that’s the one you want he hands it to you. “That one too please” he obeys. You have him hand you two more boxes (not needing any of them). Then you try to push your luck a little. “Wait not this one” you hand him a box back and he returns it to the shelf. Before you know it you’ve had this man put all the boxes back just to hand them to you again. A smirk plastered on your face. Not once did the large man question you, not when you were looking up at him with those pretty eyes.

“Ok done with this aisle. Come on.” You start walking and his feet are following you. He hasn’t said a word to you but is following you around the store like a puppy. Down the next aisle you pointed at something (well within your reach) and he handed it you.

“Are you always this obedient?” You watched his eyes go wide but he found himself nodding. He’d probably say yes to anything you ask when you’re looking at him like that, like you want to eat him whole. His answer brought a smile to your face and he swore his knees were gonna buckle. You held out your hand, “phone.” It was a statement not a question and he quickly (fumbling) pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it to you. When you saw it was locked you looked up at him moving the phone ever so slightly towards him. You had meant for him to take the phone and unlock it but instead he mumbled out “0000” a small but dramatic gasp left your lips “oh so he does speak.” You typed in the 4 digits and the phone opened. You looked up at him when the basic passcode worked. “Simple and obedient. Just how I like ‘em” ghost swallowed hard. No one has ever treated him like this. Spoke to him like this. Not even Price. He should be offended? Insulted? Definitely not turned on. Right? (mark him down and scared AND horny). You handed his phone back to him, your number and name resting on his screen. He reached to take the phone from you, but you didn’t let go. Fingers touching you looked up at him “you better call me. I’ll be real sad if you dont.” He swore he was gonna pass out. Before you let go of his phone, hands still touching, heavy steps made their way into your aisle.

“Aye lieutenant there ye are. Been wandering round lookin fer ya.” Soap called down the aisle.

Ghost refused to acknowledge his friend calling for him, keeping eye contact with you. Your smile got bigger as you let go of the phone.

“Lieutenant huh? That mean you know how to give orders too?” He nodded again. “Then I’m definitely going to need you to call me. I’d like to see that.” Your eyes shamelessly raked down his figure. Fuck he needs to hold on to something.

Once you finally walked away, Soap approached quickly asking who you were and when ghosted shrugged his shoulders “I don’t know.” (But he’s gonna that’s for sure)

“She’s a fine looking lass I’m gonna go talk to her.” Ghost’s hand moved fast, grabbing the back of Soap’s neck guiding (pushing) him in the opposite direction of you. He was thanking god you saw him first and not Soap. If you had talked to Soap like that, ghost knew you’d have him walking on a leash (who’s he kidding if you had asked ghost would’ve barked)

Part 2 Part 2.5 part 3

[sunofnebulah]

simon who smokes strictly camels or pall malls.

you always smell it on him, even after he takes a long shower. mint, leather, earth, and tobacco. you think its so funny when he genuinely gets offended at johnny when he tries to pass him a marlboro, grimacing.

“tha’ shits nasty. ‘d rather eat fuckin’ dirt.”

so you’re surprised when he asks to try your cute little virginia slims that you keep in a dainty decorated container.

you raise your eyebrows and stifle a giggle. “you hit your head or something?” he clicks his tongue and snatches your container pulling one out. he places it in his mouth and leans back into the couch, spreading his legs. he nods to the table at the lighter next to his ashtray.

“light.”

you squint at him dramatically and scratch at your head. “never thought i’d see the day you’d cheat on ms. pall ma-“

“light.” he says sternly, but with a small chuckle under his breath.

you grab the lighter and turn to light it for him. after you do, you sit back and watch as he smokes from the little thing grasped between two of his large fingers.

he exhales slowly and looks at you

“now i know why y’so cranky all the time. shits ass.”

but you know he doesn’t mean it because he guides you onto his lap and smokes the whole thing, occasionally shotgunning you. :)

[angelicangelz]

The difference between hookup!ghost and husband!ghost

NSFW - MDNI

This man has had a fair share of hookups in his life before he decided to settle down. He never intended on it, but when he saw you he knew he had to change his ways. You were just too perfect to pass on or throw out for a new girl.

You brought out a gentle, nurturing side of him that even he didn’t know existed. His rough hands touching you so gently that he surprised himself. He’d make love to you, a selfless man that attended to all your needs. Out, and inside of the bedroom.

He’d take his sweet time with you, legs over his shoulders as sucked and nibbled at your clit. His tongue lapped shamelessly at your wet cunt, occasionally dipping into your dripping hole. His fingers thrust in our out of you, brushing past your g-spot over and over again.

He’d draw out your orgasm, all four of them before he’d line himself up with you and slowly thrust in. He wanted you to feel every inch stretching you out, every vein in his thick cock, until he fully bottomed out.

With your legs around his waist, and his lips right next to your ear, he’d tell you just how good you were. “My perfect girl…doin’ so good f’me”. “Let me hear ya”. “So beautiful, all of ya”.

Then, there was ghost before you. A completely different man. Much more reckless, careless and rude. He wouldn’t waste time on your pleasure. These fucks were for himself, pushing you down on your knees to destroy your throat before he’d destroy your pussy.

Once he got his dick wet, he’d pull you up and throw you onto the bed. He didn’t care much for the intimacy. He’d press your face into the mattress, your ass sticking out in front of him. He’d harshly thrust into you, immediately setting a rough pace as his hand lands on your bare ass.

“Such a fuckin’ slut”. “Can ya take all o’ me?”. “Takin’ me like da good whore ya are”

His incredible stamina never faltered, though. He was able to go multiple rounds both before and after he was all ‘wifed up’. Except now, he’d leave the both of you satisfied and spent.

Although you’d love to experience his feral side someday.

—

I didn’t expect my first work to get the love it did lol 😟 so here’s another one!! ignore mistakes thank you

[skyrigel]

Reader who doesn't speak English as their first language and Simon being so in love !!

Over the dinner course, you leaned forward confidently, like you were sharing a secret.

"I think we should buy a baby wheelchair for them."

Price's missus was going to have a baby shower next week.

"Wot?" Simon blinked.

"A baby wheelchair—" You pulled your fist into a punching stance and moved it back and forth, mimicking a tiny car. "Like a baby car… phew phew."

"Oh, that's a stroller." Simon raised a brow, watching your head bobble in a self-absorbed nod.

"Exactly, baby car… stroller."

And it was so cute when you looked up at him whenever you forgot certain words.

"Simon, how do you say in English? The takka-takka-takka—"

"Helicopter," Simon said fondly, earning himself a sweet peck on the lips.

The task force enjoyed it immensely. When Soap said, “Break a leg !” and you raised up a fight at why Simon should break his leg.

Or when Kyle couldn't stop laughing so much with the way you pronounced, “Bitch” to the bird who was hitting up on Simon.

And Simon loved it all, felt love in your eyes through your words, especially when you used his vocabulary—God, it did something to him.

Saying "bugger" when you put too much ketchup, and "bloody freezin’, innit?!" with that corky little smile because you knew how much it wrecked him.

"Bollocks," you would curse, and he’d already be losing his heart and mind, dragging you to the bedroom.

The way you would slip into your native dialect when you were upset, voice rising as you made frustrated noises—Simon would forget the argument entirely, just watching you with that pretty face he’d go to war for.

And something, something about the way you said "I love you" in your native language first, just as softly, and how you called him "my love" in that same way too.

Bloody hell, he’s so in love.

Masterlist

[deunmiu-dessie-sideblog]

lmao thinking about how the tf141 men know you're serious by the way you say their given names. like they just turn docile immediately, no matter what they're doing or their positions.

“kyle, johnny, zip it.” swiveling in your chair, you turn your gaze towards them and glare, lips set into a thin line. the two men who sit next to each other stop their quiet bickering and nod softly, focusing on laswell once more.

ghost usually avoids doing med checkups when the time of year rolls around and it just ends up making the medical professional's jobs harder than it needs to be (they usually come to you in order to get him to do it.) “simon, i’m not in the mood. now.” he sulks and broods (swears he doesn't.) but nonetheless does the med check up, that you sit in on so he doesn't run.

price isn't exempt from it either, despite being captain. during a mission including farah and her people, the two had been going back and forth on the trek to the meet-up point. annoyed you had stopped price with a hand to his chest and met his eyes. “john, leave it alone. we don't have time for this.” he’d kept eye contact for a bit but had nodded, clapping you on the shoulder. “heard, seargent.”

ppl call you the 141 whisperer 💀 lolll

[bagofshinyrocks]

Government name vs Military callsign

Prompt: What scares them worse? Addressing them by their full government name, or addressing them by their military callsign?

Featuring: Task Force 141 (CoD: MW2) - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (separately) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: none

John Price

Government name.

Calling him Captain or Skipper just ends with him sauntering to where ever you are and ask (in an obnoxiously self-satisfied voice) what you wanted. Like a cat pretending it can’t hear the urgency in your tone when you say to get off the counter.

“If you want me to ‘shake a leg’, call my name, luvie.”

Now if you holler “Jonathan Price”, he’ll drop something. Either the newspaper in his hands, or his heart into his stomach. He sure as hell moves his ass with a purpose, and he’s peering into the room with an apology on his lips.

“Yes, luv? What’s wrong, poppet?”

“Lift the other end of the couch, would you?”

He does, and you shimmy it further back in the room. “Anything else I can do, love o’ my life?” He’s hovering, and gently coaxing you into his arms. Gauging how mad you were at him. You curled into him and kissed his chin. Then stepped away with a pat to his chest.

“No, sweetheart, just wanted you to shake a leg is all.”

When he remembers your previous conversation, he groans and tells you to fuck off.

Simon Riley

Military callsign.

When you two are alone, and he’s already given you permission to call him Simon, don’t call him Ghost. When you say that word, he assumes one of his mates are at the door or on the phone, and goes from Simon to Ghost. Stalks into the room with narrowed eyes, only to find you in the kitchen. By yourself.

“Ghost, you want a sandwich too? Turkey and cheese.”

“Fuck you callin’ me that for?” 

Once he sees you’re alone, he swoops in and wraps around you like a hoodie. A firm kiss to your ear, then your cheek, then spun you around. Back pressed to the counter top. Settles his face right close to yours.

“We playin’ games now?” You didn’t want to upset him, so you pressed a kiss to his nose. His grumpy look faded a bit.

“Sorry, baby.” Arms wrapped carefully around his shoulders. And your fingers scratch his scalp. Another kiss to his nose. “I’m sorry for playing games with you. Simon Riley.”

Hearing his name on your lips finally cracked, and he gave you a smile. A little scar on the upper lip. You gave it a kiss, and then pressed a kiss to his lips. 

A quick surge forward, and you only just had time to shove aside the things behind you before you found yourself on the countertop.

Kyle Garrick

Government name.

He doesn’t mind being called Gaz, and you’ll use Kyle and Gaz interchangeably. Doesn’t even mind if you use “Kyle” or “honey” in front of his squadmates. Though “Kylie” he does have some displeasure with.

“I’ll have you know, Soap is still calling me Kylie, you asshole.”

Call him ‘Garrick’, and he knows that you are pretending to be mad at him. He slinks over and rubs his face against your cheek. He’s too cute for you to stay mad.

If you shout “Kyle Garrick”, he comes running. He could have sworn that he put his clothes in the hamper. And did the dishes. And taken out the recycling. Damn, what was it that he forgot?

“Kyle Ga-”

“Yes, dear!” Shit, he didn’t mean to ‘yes, dear’ you. “Yes, my dear, I’m right here.”

You pause your laundry folding and summon him with a crook of your finger. Once he’s close enough, you tap your lip with the same finger. “I need a kiss.”

He blinked once. Then twice. “God damn you.” He squishes your face in his hands and gave you a quick, firm kiss. “Don’t stress me out like that. Thought you were mad.”

“Give me another kiss, or I will be.”

He rapid fire kissed your mouth, chin, and cheeks, then gave you a smack on the ass before returning to the living room. 

“In my own fucking home,” he muttered.

John MacTavish

Military callsign.

He’s got some thick skin. And he’s had his name shouted angrily many a time. He would all but skip into the room with a big smile on his face. The only people who shouted that name (and wore out the scare-factor on it) were his family members. Shouting “John MacTavish” meant you loved him. You were also mad at him, but you loved him. That was more important. Even with your scowl and the gross pile of garbage he kept forgetting to take out. You loved him.

Now shouting his callsign reminded him of his superior officers.

“SOAP!”

Shit shit shit. He put down his beer and ran from the garage to the backyard. Leg brace over his sweats, low cut muscle shirt that you also wolf-whistle at when he wears. You were only weeding the garden boxes.

“JOHNNY!”

“I’m here, bonnie,” he hollered, rounding the corner. You were sitting in the dirt, a tidy pile of weeds and dead plant bits next to you.

“C’mere, c’mere.”

He leaned down next to you, hand on your shoulder and good knee on the ground. “Wassit?”

You pointed to the leaf in your hand. “A caterpillar, Johnny. An itsy-bitsy caterpillar.”

He sighed heavily and kissed your shoulder. “Bonnie, I thought something was wrong.”

“Hm?” You spared him a glance. “What are you talking about, bubba?”

“You called me Soap.”

“Did I? Didn’t mean to spook you, loverboy.” You gave him an apologetic kiss on the lips. “Just wanted you to see the caterpillar before he wiggled off.”

Posted: 2023 Dec 10

[soleilapproves]

You’re eating fruit and your friends can’t stop watching. (Ghost and Soap)

Notes: suggestive, crack fic.

main masterlist

One would think that the two men were on the battlefield with the way they were intently staring at you.

Simon was focused on the way you’d take a bite out of your apple, lips wrapping around the curvature of the fruit as your teeth sunk into its crisp flesh.

So pretty and plump. Like an apple

Johnny was too busy staring at the droplets of juice that were trailing down your chin. He could almost taste the tartness as he imagined himself licking you clean. He had to bite his lip to keep himself from moaning when he saw you lick your lips to clean up the stickiness left behind.

You then disposed of the apple and grabbed a banana. Simon’s hand immediately latched on to his thigh. He began to shift in his seat as he watched you take a bite of the banana.

However, you didn’t chew the entire thing and kept a morsel of it in your left cheek, too distracted to chew because you were on your phone.

Simon’s fingers dug into his thighs at the sight.

He felt like a dog in heat.

Johnny began to imagine his own-

“What are you two fuckin’ idiots doing here? Get back to your work stations!” Price barked as he walked into the base’s lounge area.

But Simon and Johnny were too entranced by you to respond.

Confused, Price looked in the same direction as them to see what was so interesting.

“Oh.” The captain breathed out with a slight blush.

_

part 2 (no smut :/, but lots of kissing)

[readwritealldayallnight]

“Believe the briefing’s down that way, LT.” Soap says, walking alongside the Lieutenant as they make their way to meet the rest of the task force, when he notices the older man starts turning down the wrong hallway.

“Small detour.” Ghost replies in his deep Manchester accent, continuing on his way, uncaring whether the Sergeant follows him or not.

“Where we goin’?” The Scot turns to quickly follow him, curiosity piqued, knowing Ghost is nearly always religiously early to briefings. He has however noticed him appearing nearer to the start time recently now that he thinks about it, something that wouldn’t mean anything should it have been anyone else, but with Ghost, these minuscule changes never came without reason.

“Jus’ have to scratch an itch.” Ghost utters, barely glancing sideways to see the bewildered expression on Soap’s face.

It’s not long before Soap recognizes that they’re on their way to passing by the med bay, confusion worsening when he notices that the Lieutenant keeps fidgeting with something in his pocket. Something that’s making a - crinkling noise? Just as they reach the doors, he watches him pull something out- almost doing a double take at the sight.

“What the fuck are ye doin’ with a bunch o’ lollies?” The Scot asks, befuddled.

“Jus’ shut up and watch, Johnny.” Ghost quickly murmurs, pushing through the doors and walking in a confidently past the nurses station without a care, as though he does this every day. Maybe he does-

Soap tentatively follows behind him at a slower pace, unsure of what he’s walking towards exactly, but utterly intrigued nonetheless. As he turns around a corner, he sees Ghost has just walked up to you, one of the bonnie medics he’s seen around.

“Morning.” You smile softly at him, warmth apparent in your gaze towards the tall man. “Was wondering if you were coming or not.”

“Pick a colour.” The Lieutenant practically grunts at you, holding up a handful of colourful lollipops towards you in his large gloved hand, ignoring your teasing.

“Think I’ll do red. Matches my nails.” You say, leaning towards him to reach a hand out and pluck said lolly from his grasp. Both men watch as you remove the wrapper, pink tongue peeking out from your mouth to wet your plush lower lip. Soap feels the wires in his brain click as well as his pants suddenly tighten when he sees how you wrap your lips around the sucker, closing your eyes and letting out a small, satisfied hum as you taste the candy and pull it out with a ‘plop’.

“Thank you, Ghost.” You blink up at him sweetly, sticking your tongue out to lick at the lollipop this time before sealing it back in the wetness of your mouth, eyes locked with the man before you the whole time.

The first time you met the Lieutenant was while treating him in this very med bay. Already enamoured with you to begin with, the deal had been sealed when you had pulled out a few lollies from your coats pocket, offering them to him. He had come back to see you the next day, his own stash of candy in hand, saying something about how it was only fair that the doctors got sweets every once in a while as well. ‘Every once in a while’ turned out to be every single morning you worked, truly nothing more than an excuse to see you.

And if you looked up at him so sweetly as you licked at the treat, his blood never not rushing down south in the process, well then that was just an added bonus wasn’t it?

Readjusting his tactical pants and licking his own lips, Johnny had never been so grateful to Ghost before.

[thisnoah]

He said the thing

[gloomwitchwrites]

There was this tiktok trend where kids and their mums would pull a prank on their dads by telling their mums to shut up...141 with a teenage son who tries it?

Anon, I am very aware of this prank. If mom is in on it, I consider it all in good fun, but omg, these guys would be absolutely stressed if they heard their teenage son tell mom to "shut up." Heads would absolutely roll over that!

Price is certainly old enough to have a teenage son on the older side. I would even say the same for Ghost. Gaz is old enough for a younger teenage son. With Soap's age...that's stretching it. BUT SUSPEND DISBELIEF Y'ALL. I'm aging Gaz and Soap up a bit for this one.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Presented in two double drabbles and two triple drabbles.

Task Force 141 x Female Reader (w/ children)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, pranks, domestic, dad!141, brief suggestive themes, marriage

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Ugh. Shut up, Mum.”

There is a brief pause between mum and when the television remote hurtles across the room. Your son doesn’t duck in time, the hard plastic hitting his shoulder before bouncing onto the kitchen island with a loud clack.

Before your son turns, Kyle’s baseball cap with the Union Jack, soars through the air like a frisbee. This one your son manages to avoid, but it’s quickly followed by a slipper. It flies past his head, and you catch it out of the air before it makes contact with the front of the microwave.

You and your eldest son turn in Kyle’s direction as he manifests in the kitchen entryway, the other slipper in hand, poised to launch it at the first sign of any movement.

“Wanna repeat yourself, mate?” Kyle appears calm and poised, but you notice the subtle tension in his jaw.

“It was a joke, Dad! Promise!”

Kyle’s arm holding the slipper starts to rise.

“Kyle,” you say. His gaze flicks to you. “Just a joke. No harm. I was in on it.”

His shoulders immediately sag. Kyle shakes his head. Rolls his eyes. Heading for the fridge, he opens it up, grabbing a can of his favorite beer.

Kyle sets the beer down on the island, pointing the slipper at you and then his son. His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. No words come out, just an exasperated huff.

Kyle snatches up the television remote and sticks it into the pocket of his grey sweatpants. Keeping hold of the shoe in one hand, and his beer in the other, he gives the two of you his back, heading into the living room.

“No one bother me until the game is over,” he says over his shoulder. “And someone bring me my bloody slipper!”

John Price

"Fucking hell, Mum. Shut it."

John is up and out of his seat so fast you hardly see him move. He strides over to his son, yanking him off the stool by the scruff of his shirt.

"John! It's a prank!" you say quickly, reaching for his arm.

The boy is dangling in the air, toes just shy of touching the ground. "A prank?" asks John skeptically.

"Mum is in on it. Promise."

John sighs heavily and slowly lowers his son to the ground. The moment his feet touch ground, he tries to step away, but John holds firm, keeping his eldest child immobile. He leans forward a bit. Lowers his voice.

"Prank or no, you never talk to your mother, your sisters, or any woman in that manner again. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good boy." John releases his son. "The lawn needs trimmed."

"Yes, sir."

Your son scurries away. It isn't until the door to the garage opens and shuts that John moves toward you. His arm drapes over your waist, hand landing firmly on your ass, squeezing hard.

"You're coming with me."

"To do what?"

He presses his lips to your ear. "For a different sort of punishment."

John "Soap" MacTavish

"You’re off your head, lad.”

With Johnny’s cold tone comes a tension to your son’s shoulders. He becomes rigid, sliding down into his chair like he can escape from his father by cowering underneath the table. Johnny comes around the corner, a bit of sweat on his brow. He's been building furniture all day for the nursery.

"Want to repeat that for me?" asks Johnny.

Your son’s voice cracks. "It was just a prank, Dad."

"It was what?" Johnny strides forward.

"It's a prank. I'm in on it. Promise," you say, attempting to soothe Johnny’s anger.

Johnny crosses his arms over your chest. "Is it?" He glances between the two of you and sighs, muttering, “Am pure done in.”

He disappears down the hall, returning with a stack of instructional manuals, dropping them into his son’s lap. "You're building furniture."

"But I—"

“You right scunner. C’mon.” Johnny yanks his son out of the chair, the stack of instructional manuals goes flying. Your son reaches for them all, desperately clasping them against his chest.

“Johnny," you call out, walking around the counter to intervene.

He glances over his shoulder, frown gown, sly smirk on his face. “Deal with you later."

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“Oi, Mum. Shut it.”

Your son is a wonderful actor. You’ll give him that. Even you almost believe him. Not that he would—he’d never—but his delivery reminds you of a completely pissed football fan ready to throw a punch at a member of the rival team.

He should consider theater.

Simon, your husband, is watching a rugby match in the living room. The television is on but at a low volume.

Within seconds of the words leaving your son’s mouth, Simon appears like a phantom guardian in the entryway. In one he holds the remote like a weapon. The other arm cradles his infant daughter. She looks like a small bean. Slightly curved as she snuggles closer against Simon’s chest as she sleeps.

He's not looking at you. He's staring at his son, gaze intense and full of fire.

You’ve seen that look before.

Mission abort.

"He's joking, Simon. It's just a prank,” you soothe, knowing you need to get ahead of this.

Not that Simon would hurt you or his son, but he rarely takes any shit. This prank was a gamble, and you’re completely regretting it.

"Don't mean it, Dad."

Simon just stares for a long minute. His daughter squirms and that is when he glances down, severing the connection. Observing her must change something in him, because his gaze returns to the two of you, and there is a calmness now.

Sighing heavily, Simon shakes his head, completely exasperated. The eye roll is so apparent it’s like a shout.

In the moment he was pissed—livid. But now he’s over it, more annoyed and unamused than actually mad.

Turning on his heel, daughter still cradled in one arm, Simon returns to his recliner, settling back into the soft cushions to finish watching his rugby match.

taglist:

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[bruhhxiao]

KISSES

You finished night chores in the kitchen after dinner and Simon was laying in bed “enjoying” Manchester match alone, since you were too loud 🙄

Once you get in bed too you toke a look at the screen.

“Unlucky one?” You say softly sitting next to him, he was grumpy, so you kissed him.

He signed not kissing you back, so you give him two more but he leans his head on the side ignoring you.

“C’mon the match is over.”

“No, it’s not. 3 minutes left.” He says pushing your head out of the way.

You kissed him again and again and then again, leaving sweet pecks on his lips. The match was over and he was listening to the after match conference.

“So you’re into this old man more than me? Give me one kiss!” He sighed and bought his lazy hand behind your head pulling you down for a short stamp.

“One more…” You say leaning closer and he kisses you back.

“A bit more…” as you said that he pulls you in a passionate kiss, a slow one.

After you broke the kiss and try to sit back like before, he grabs your arm pulling you down next to him kissing you a few times as he slowly positions himself on top of you.

“Simon it’s already 11:00 pm- Mhh~” he cuts you off.

“Now you got me in the mood, so shut up” he said with his nose against yours looking into your loving eyes before kissing you passionately.

[luxcuriousao3]

Simon Riley with a long, Roman nose that's crooked from how many times it's been broken. Simon Riley with a chipped front tooth, cracked in one of his countless fist fights. Simon Riley with deep furrows in his brow from stress but no crow's feet around his eyes because he never smiles. Simon Riley with a three inch scar that cuts right through his crooked nose and thin, downturned lips, giving him a permanent snarl. Simon Riley with greys in his hair because as much as he hates to admit it, he's getting bloody old. Simon Riley with half a Glasgow smile, exposing an unusually sharp canine tooth, sharp like it had been filed down. Simon Riley with a slit across his neck that should have killed him but didn't, because he just can't fucking die, trust him, he's tried. Simon Riley with round cheeks that turned hollow after years of starvation, never to recover, making him look like a skeleton even without the mask. Simon Riley who's fuck-ugly and knows it. Simon Riley who John MacTavish thinks is the most beautiful man he's ever seen anyway.