#kyle Garrick x reader

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hey 😊👋 I love your Task Force 141 Imagines and finally had the courage to request one myself:

How would they react to the trend where their partner makes dinner but gives them the bigger portion and gives themselves only a small one with the excuse that "That's all we had left" ?

(I hope you understand what I mean)

I'm about 99.9% sure you're talking about the viral TikTok trend. That's what I interpreted the ask as (which is how I wrote it). Most of the time, those videos are pretty wholesome. Sometimes they aren't. But with regards to 141, they're gonna be wholesome about it. No body shaming. Not dismissive. Just walking green flags who are also done with your shit (because pranking them is just hilarious). Anyway! Enjoy!!!

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

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, pranks & practical jokes, humor, fluff, married couple, mild suggestive themes

Word Count: 1k

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

John Price

"Love, what is that?"

"That's all we had left."

"That's all we had left?" repeats John.

You shrug nonchalantly. There's plenty of food, enough for each of you and leftovers for tomorrow, but John doesn't need to know that...yet.

"It's fine,” you shrug. “I'm not that hungry so I gave you a bigger portion."

John's concern only worsens. "You did what?"

"I wasn’t hungry so I—"

“I heard what you said,” interrupts John. He points at your plate. “But there’s nothing on it.”

“I’ll be fine.”

"No," he says firmly, waving his hand. "No."

Without asking, he swaps your plates.

"John. Stop."

"I'm not that hungry," he says, repeating your own words back at you. "Ate more than enough at work. I don't need all this. You do."

You reach for the plate but he lifts it off the table, holding it out of reach. Part of you wants to scold him to carry on the rouse, but instead you're giggling.

"Not sure what's funny,” grumbles John.

"There's more,” you laugh, covering your mouth.

"There's—” John glances between you and the kitchen. John rolls his eyes but he's trying to hold back a smile. “You naughty fucking thing."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You place a plate piled high with food in front of Kyle.

“Thanks, babe.” He glances up at you, grinning. His gaze shifts to your plate, smile fading into confusion. You purposely gave yourself less just to see his reaction.

“I forgot forks.” You walk back into the kitchen. “You want a fork, right?”

“Yeah,” replies Kyle slowly, now pointing at your plate. “But…what is that?”

You return to the table. “That’s all we had left.”

Lies. There’s plenty left.

“But why is mine full and yours—” He gestures at your plate.

You feign confusion. “You work really hard. You need it.”

“This,” says Kyle pointing at his own plate. “Is a lot.” He then points at your plate. “That’s not.”

“It’s fine.”

“You’re taking some of mine.”

“Kyle—”

“Don’t argue with me.”

You pick up your fork, intending to eat, but Kyle is quick, snatching your plate right off the table and swapping it with his. He keeps your plate in his hand, shoving you away when you try to reach for it.

“Sit,” he commands.

“Kyle.”

He ignores you, clearing the plate in a couple of bites.

“Kyle,” you scold, but you’re giggling, dropping the guise.

“Why are you laughing?” he asks, glancing around.

Unable to keep control of your composure, you point in the direction of the kitchen. Frowning, Kyle follows your index finger. He takes a few steps into the kitchen and comes to a dead stop.

He slowly spins on his heel, his expression so exasperated that you burst out laughing. With a loud sigh, Kyle returns to the table, swapping the empty plate for the full one.

Dropping into his seat, Kyle shakes his head. “Get yourself a real portion and then come join me.” Then, with a smirk, “You little terror.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny reclines on the sofa, completely absorbed in the rugby match on the television.

With you, is dinner. Two plates, one for each of you. You’ve loaded Johnny’s plate, but have hardly filled yours. It’s just a prank. A test to see if he notices anything.

He has a knack for not paying attention to the smaller details. Sometimes Johnny is so distracted whenever there is a game on that he's oblivious to everything else around him. One time—just to see—you walked around completely naked. It took nearly a full fifteen minutes for him to realize it.

You casually take a seat next to him, offering Johnny his plate.

"Thank you," he says, taking it without removing his gaze from the television.

You keep your plate in your lap, casually moving the few bites of food around while taking incredibly small bites.

Johnny chews. Watches. Still oblivious to your tiny portion.

You purposefully bang your fork against the side of the plate.

He does a double take. "What’s that?"

"What’s what?"

"That.”

You shrug. "It’s all we had left."

With a growl that’s more groan, Johnny starts pushing his food off his plate and onto yours.

"Johnny. No. That's your food." He tuts, not saying anything. "I'm fine." you insist, trying to push his plate away.

“No, love,” says Johnny. He settles back onto the sofa and gives your cheek a quick peck.

You wait a beat. "There's plenty of food."

Johnny turns. Blinks. "Oh, aye?" He grabs your plate and dumps the food back on his.

"Johnny!"

"You’re having a right laugh.” He gestures toward the kitchen. “Go on.”

As you stand, he gives your ass a light smack. When you turn to swat his hand, you’re greeted with his cheeky grin.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

The plate you set before Simon is nearly overflowing.

"Thank you, love," he murmurs, placing his hand at your back.

You lean in, giving him a quick kiss. He accepts it with a soft smile, lightly squeezing your thigh before you step away to grab your own plate.

Compared to Simon’s portion, your plate is practically empty. It’s really only a few bites, but it’s just for kicks. There is plenty still left in the kitchen. You just want to fuck with Simon.

When you set your plate down and fall into your seat, Simon’s attention immediately focuses in on the lack of sustenance.

He leans forward a bit, staring you down, silent.

“What?” you ask, pretending that this is all perfectly normal.

He keeps staring.

“What is it?” you prompt.

“No.”

No. Just—no.

You blink. "No? No what?”

Simon sucks his fork clean and tosses it onto the table, still shaking his head. You’re losing. It’s hardly started and you’ve lost.

“It’s all that’s left!”

He shakes his finger at you, walking away and into the kitchen. “I know you,” he says over his shoulder. “You’re taking the piss.”

Goddamn it.

Simon sees right through you. Always does.

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[vaquerolvr]

oh, my good looking boy

synopsis: texts with gaz as your bf // requested by anon <3

extra headcanons at the bottom since this one’s short

cw: suggestive jokes, mentions of injury, one ‘kys’ joke

⊹ you can get him to say almost anything by just saying it and he’ll usually echo it back to you

⊹ he keeps up with slang and current memes just to annoy the others (mainly ghost)

⊹ he’s really good at dancing but only does it in private

⊹ usually prefers to slow dance with you but you convince him to twerk on you once. needless to say, it does not happen again

⊹ i feel it in my soul, if he was in our universe he would be a COD player. but i think he mainly plays csgo and valorant

⊹ literally cannot sleep without you. if you lock him out of the room he’ll be clawing at the door like a clingy cat

⊹ sends you pics of him shirtless a lot, just to show off

⊹ gets weirdly insecure about the relationship sometimes. will shake you awake at midnight just to ask if you still love him

⊹ he loves sharing his music with you, literally makes you like fifty playlists

⊹ frank ocean is his favorite artist but i think tv girl is a guilty pleasure for him. you tell him he has ‘male manipulator’ music taste one time and he gets really defensive

⊹ doesn’t remember anything about himself. if someone asks him about his preferences he’ll turn to you and be like “babe, what’s my favorite color?” or “do i like ketchup?”

⊹ thinks he looks gross with a beard but can be convinced to grow it out. always shaves it off when someone (soap) inevitably teases him

⊹ has blackmail material on all the 141 guys

an: title is from good looking - suki waterhouse. if anyone wants to see a version of this with other characters feel free to send a request!

dividers from @/saradika-graphics :)

[akio-ayashi]

Yes, please keep me safe 🥺

imagine running from a horde of zombies after you were caught off guard and sprinting through a forest, hopeless and desperate because you can't seem to shake off this horde that seems to be growing in numbers, until finally you come across a shelter carefully concealed in the pinewood, almost blending into the surrounding landscape.

the man living there must have seen you running in the distance because when you pass by, the door opens and shuts like a spider's trap, and he drags you inside and holds you to his chest so you don't so much as twitch until you hear the horde pass by. and it's large. hundreds of undead groaning and rushing by, almost clambering over one another, still thinking that they're in pursuit of you. your heart is smashing against your ribcage because you realize now that there's no way you could've outrun them or gotten away - the man at your back is the only thing standing between you and certain death.

he introduces himself as Gaz and tells you that you can spend however long you'd like with him. he's been living in the woods since the outbreak and he's been stockpiling food and water since long before. one of his old army buddies bought the bunker almost a decade back - a real prepper-type, though he passed well before the apocalypse and left the property to Gaz in the absence of any family.

you're so appreciative of his help and you aren't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so obviously you take him up on his offer and spend the week.

only when days go by and you mention that you're thinking of heading out now that the horde has long passed, he talks you out of it. seems concerned about what'll happen to you if you're on your own out there. you let him convince you to stay a little longer, but sure enough, after another few days you start to get jittery, anxious to get back out on the road because the last thing you want to do is overstay your welcome.

then you see the locks on the door. it's padlocked shut, the key nowhere to be found. you don't remember there being locks on the inside. that's the only thing you can think when Gaz comes up from behind you, planting both of his hands on your shoulders, almost as if to offer you reassurance.

"don't worry, love," he murmurs, bending low so his voice is right in your ear. "i'm gonna keep you safe. you won't ever have one of them chase you again."

[ghouljams]

Protege!Gaz taking CEO!Price's assistant to dinner after a long week, plying you with the magic words: "this company would fall apart without you." Commiserating with you about Price, letting you talk his ear off about his mentor. You're so used to the way Price eyes your chest that you miss the way Gaz's eyes linger on your ass every time you get up to grab a drink, or the fact that he isn't really joining in on your trashing Price, or the fact that his compliments are just shy of polite...

You don't miss the way he smiles when he snaps a picture of you to send to Price, or the way he coos that you looked "so pretty leaned over the bar" he just couldn't help it. And don't worry about all those nasty things you said about Price, it'll be just between the two of you(and the recording on his phone, "accidentally" sent to Price in the morning so he can choke his cock to the way you spit his name).

[bambisspeckles]

Stowaway ✿ Poly Pirate!141 x Reader

*pics for aesthetics only!

Summary: You accidentally sneak onto pirate crew 141's ship CW: Inaccurate depiction of pirates, poly!141, fem!reader, ghost and price are kinda assholes (for right now), soap is well soap, gaz is an angel sent from heaven, reader is held captive (ish), stockholm syndrome core but like in the way beauty and the beast is, no romance yet (sorry, but don't worry it won't really be a slowburn), self-edited! WC: 1.8K

It was a mistake, honestly you should have just stayed put. You have no idea why you thought it'd be a good idea to sneak onto any ship, at all, ever.

You suppose this cruel fate is karma for your actions.

It started in the early hours of the morning, when many passenger ships were docked. You had decided to pack a small bag with your most important belongings and sneak into one of the ships cargo holds. In theory it was a good idea, you figured most of the crew we be pretty occupied tending to passengers needs, therefore your chances of getting caught and thrown into the ocean were slim. It's a shame you the ship you decided to board wasn't a passenger ship.

You should have known, it didn't look remotely like a passenger ship. There weren't any nice amenities, only one small dining room, not nearly enough beds for the amount of people that come to and from your island, and there were too many suspicious looking locked chests. There was a voice inside your head screaming for you to get off the ship but the adrenaline being pumped through your body was too high, and the yearning to escape the hell your home brought to you overruled almost all your sense of logic and reasoning. When you found the cargo hold, you didn't even think twice before making your way inside, quickly scanning your surroundings to find the best place to hide. You decide to hide behind some unmarked crates, figuring they'd be bothered the least. You squeeze your body behind the boxes, maneuvering so all of you can be hidden well.

It feels like you're there for days, realistically you know that's not true, but you're so close to leaving this island and never looking back. No matter how tempted you are to bolt, you keep yourself firmly planted behind the crates. Finally, you hear voices, it doesn't seem like there's very many people and that makes your anxiety sky rocket, but it's much too late to sneak off and try to find another ship to become a stowaway in. Pushing your knees further into your chest, you take a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm your nerves. For hours you hear voices and footsteps above you, but no one seems to have any suspicions. In fact it's been so calm the rocking of the ship has your eyes fluttering shut, you've been fighting sleep but nothing has transpired for so long maybe a few minutes of shut eye won't hurt. As your mind battles between alertness and staying asleep you hear something.

Footsteps. Coming down the steps, right into the cargo hold.

Your heart drops into your stomach and your breath hitches. You squeeze your body into itself in an attempt to make it smaller, one of your hands coming to clasp your mouth shut. The footsteps get louder and louder until you see a large figure standing in the archway. You go rigid as you get a better look at him. He's no average sailor, he's a fucking pirate.

"Great." You think wryly. "If he finds me then I really am dead."

He's moving around some boxes, you're not quite sure why, and for a moment you think he has no clue you're there.

Unfortunately for you, that's where you're wrong.

In the blink of an eye he grabs you from behind your crate wall, holding you by the scruff of your neck like a naughty kitten. The look in his eye is dark, and the rest of his face is covered by a mask, a skull print adorning the fabric. He says nothing, only staring at you for a moment before throwing you over his shoulder and walking back up the steps, presumably to bring you to the rest of the crew.

Oh. you're totally fucked now.

The mans footsteps attract the attention of his crew as he walks across the deck, when he stops walking, he practically throws you onto the ground, forcing you to kneel before three other men.

"Wha' a bonnie thing she is… S' what tha' noise was? Was startin' worry I was finally losin' it." A man, Scottish you think, says as he stares at you. His thumb dragging down the side of your face as a devilish smirk graces his lips.

You flinch under his touch and the Scotsman quickly removes his hand but his touch is soon replaced by another, a man much more imposing than he. Rough hands gripping your face, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Was wonderin' why it sounded like there was a rat down in the cargo," A dark glint flashes through his eyes, but it's gone as quickly as it appeared. "Now tell me, stowaway, wha' the hell are ya doin' on my ship."

Tears well in your eyes as you struggle against his grip, and you can feel his impatience growing as he waits for you to respond. After another moment, the final man turns to speak to you.

"Captain asked ya a question love, best answer him before he gets angry." His voice is surprisingly gentle, and when you meet his gaze, soft brown eyes stare back at you, eyes filled with pity.

The look in his eye breaks you, and fat tears begin rolling down the apples of your cheeks.

"I'm… I'm sorry!" You choke out your words between sobs, your body taut under the piercing gaze of the Captain.

A beat of silence passes before the Captain of the ship releases you from his grip, your body crumbling into itself.

"I didn't know! I didn't- I don't… I just wanted to leave! I promise I didn't take anything a-and you can drop me off at your next stop, just please don't hurt me…" Your words come out watery, your voice hoarse and snot coming out of your nose, ugly sobbing as these men surround you.

The man with the soft brown eyes crouches down next you, his gentle hand wiping tears off your cheeks.

"You poor thing, you're all outta' sorts. M' sure you didn't mean any harm…" He looks towards his Captain but his head is still angled in your direction. "Go easy on her sir, poor thing is trembling."

The Captain scoffs, his arms folding over his chest as he studies you, his gaze scrutinizing, piercing through you.

"She shoulda' thought of that before sneaking onto my ship." He gives you another once over before ordering you to stand on your feet. You figure it's best to do what he says so you rise from the ground, knees almost buckling under you.

The group of men stare at you for a while, seemingly unsure of what to do with you. After a few moments, a deep voice from behind finally speaks, you turn to look at him, his skull mask making your spine tingle with terror.

"We should just throw er' off the ship, no bloody reason to keep the thing around." You wince at the way he refers to you, objectifying, dehumanizing.

"Now, now, Ghost, nae reason tae make such a hasty decision. The kitten's completely harmless! I say we keep er', it'll be so nice to have a bonnie thing on board." The man, Ghost, scoffs.

"We don' need liabilities layin' around Johnny. Sides' got no use for er'. M' sure Price is inclined to agree with me." Ghost turns his head towards Price, presumably waiting for some type of agreeance on what he said.

Before the Captain can even get a word out, he's interjected.

"M' inclined to agree with Soap- for different reasons," He pauses shooting Soap a look, but he merely shrugs back. "But I agree all the same. I mean look at er' poor thing is terrified, I doubt she came to pillage our goods Captain."

Price sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he mulls over his, limited, options. Everyone, including you, waits for him with bated breath. Selfishly, you hope he'll keep you around a bit longer, at least then you'll get a chance to make an escape plan.

Finally, the Captain speaks.

"She can stay, for now. We can keep er' in the cellar until I figure out wha' the hell to do with her." His words carry a tone of finality, a fact that has Ghost scoffing.

"You're jus' pickin' sides cause' Gaz wants to keep er' around." He motions towards the man next to you, bitter venom coming out alongside his words.

Gaz rolls his eyes, blowing out with an irritated sigh.

"Price isn't picking sides, he's doing what's right. Just cause' you don't agree with it doesn't mean that-" Price puts his hand on Gaz's shoulder, interrupting his sentence. A silent way of telling him "settle down."

Gaz relaxes under the Captains touch.

"Gaz, Soap, take er' down to the cellar, we'll keep er' there for now. Ghost, come with me to my quarters." Ghost mumbles something in response, but his words are muffled by his mask, something you're sure he's grateful for at this moment.

You, Soap, and Gaz watch him for a moment as he follows Price like a kicked puppy. When they're finally out of view, Soap and Gaz turn their attention back to you.

"C'mon kitten, yer gonna ave' tae be a bit uncomfortable tonight, the Captain didnae plan for any stowaways.." He chuckles at you playfully, something you'd find much more comforting under different circumstances.

You suddenly feel a hand on your back, the skin a bit rough even through the fabric of your clothes. You whip your head to look behind to see Gaz, his soft brown eyes still filled with that same look of pity. He and Soap begin gently guiding you towards the ships cellar.

"It's alright love, The Captain can be a bit cruel but he won't hurt you. Even pirates have their limits… Besides, I assure you we're not nearly as bad as some of the other pirates out there. We'll get you sorted out in the morning."

You have no reason to trust these men, all you've known is that pirates cause pain and destruction everywhere they go, but the only thing you can do right now is trust them. So, you nod timidly, letting them guide without resistance.

Hopefully you can escape at the next docking place.

[tempfrangit]

saw @pricetagged 's post (to be entirely transparent) and immediately overcome with the idea of hunter!141 x reader who like to do a little hunt to find a partner, and if you happen to be the partner of the person their ex left them for? all the better.

they get close to you, naturally. you bumped into each other in public and kind of just click - they're like an old friend you just met! when they're not busy with work, they're chatting about the book you just read, or the show you just watched, or maybe your work drama, because you don't like to gossip but it's like some people never learn! they even get along with your favorite friends and family.

when you start to realize you have feelings for them, your partner just happens to seem more distant. it's only right to tell you, your partner is kind of a serial cheater, right? you're friends. and when your fears are so neatly confirmed (he claims he has no idea who those messages are from, but you're not blind.)

they're there for you. it'll all be okay. maybe a nice cuppa and your comfort movie? you're the sweetest prize they've ever gotten.

[the-sweet-hibiscus]

I want more stalker!Gaz.

Let that man be so charming when you meet at a bookstore.

Let him make you swoon when you happen to bump into him again at the coffee shop! Accidental drink mix up? That's alright doll, he'll give you his latte in exchange for your number.

Let him pretend he didn't notice you at the bar that weekend conveniently about one day after your nerves make you ghost him.

Let him be the one to help when your Uber gets a flat on the way home – you just got into walking distance? What luck, he'll walk you home.

Oh, you're scared bc you keep hearing noises at night? Well he's always available for a call.

And if you call someone else? Unfortunately they won't answer the next time. Or the time after that. He's patient. He'll let you go through your entire rolladex until he's the only one you think to call.

Don't worry how he got to your house so fast.

Don't worry when he seems to be able to lead you directly to your room with ease.

Don't worry when he insists on sleeping in the room with you. You can trust him. How else would he have kept you safe all this time?

[sigh-tofm]

when they come home drunk…

… price

- thinks it’s important that he loudly tells you he’s married while you steady him upstairs to bed. points to his ring incessantly, slurs on and on about his perfect wonderful wife with the big ass and soft tummy. you roll your eyes and can’t help but smile when he doesn’t let you hold on to his arm to support him. something about protecting his virtue for his wife, as if you’re not standing right beside him. proceeds to lock you out of your own bedroom when you finally get upstairs, telling you his wife will be home soon so he can’t have a strange woman in their bedroom (but still remarks on your wonderful ass). you decide it’s too early in the morning to persuade your drunk husband to let you in, so you go down to sleep on the couch. you wake up with price sleeping soundly on the floor beside you, having gone to find his wife when she never showed up in his bed the night before.

… kyle

- gets sappy and apologises for being away. loses all concept of time when he’s drunk, says he’s sorry, he didn’t mean to be away so long, he was thinking of you the whole time, the guys pulled him along and he couldn’t say no. while he’s on his knees at your feet, pressing his face to your thighs and mumbling into your marbled skin, almost making you lose your balance with his fervent apologies, you gently remind him that you were the one who made him go out with the boys because he needed to unwind after a stressful weekend of combat drills, and that he had left with them less than two hours ago. he refuses to hear and only hugs your thighs closer, so much so that you have to support yourself on the wall. turns out all he needed to relax was you.

… johnny

- is horny. almost starts drooling when he eyes you at the top of the stairs, after struggling to close the entrance door for a good minute, causing you to investigate what made all the noise. gets a wild look in his eyes when he sees you in just his t-shirt and makes you scream and giggle as he chases you back up the stairs and to the bedroom. being absolutely shitfaced, he has the coordination of a tranquillised moose and stumbles head over heels across the floor, catches his foot on the doorway and narrowly misses the edge of the dresser with his head as he falls. still, his little soldier is courageously tenting his pants when you worriedly lean over him and he gets a good look right into the collar of your shirt.

… simon

- is emotional and clingy. can’t get enough of you, won’t leave you alone. you can’t make out half his words when he’s had this much to drink (and the mancunian in him breaks out too, making it ever harder to make out the words), but you play along, smile and nod and let him sit on the closed toilet seat and talk and talk while you do your night routine in front of the mirror. so lucky to have you, luv. how could’a lug like me get a pretty one like you, luv. his melancholy statements of love become comfortable background noise for you as you remove your makeup and apply moisturiser. lets you wash the sweat and grime of the day off his face with a washcloth, closes his eyes while you massage your floral-scented moisturiser into his skin, never once stopping his little speech. ambles after you out of the bathroom, holding on to the hem of your shirt, when you’re all finished and ready for bed. his devoted mutters only let up when be falls asleep next to you.

[i-love-you-just-the-same]

bear hybrid! price who stalks around your house at night, protecting you from whatever else might be lurking in the woods. you don't know that he is of course, but you should be more thankful when he shuts and locks your windows when you're asleep. occasionally you see him lumber on the edge of the forest, minding his own. he doesn't want to scare you, but he wants you to admire him, too.

wolf hybrid! simon that follows you everywhere (from a distance and he rarely lets you touch him). you were frightened at first of the big bad wolf, but when he takes you away from snakes and other dangers in the woods you learn to leave out some scraps for him. (he sleeps on your front step. won't enter the house yet.)

fox hybrid! johnny who regularly sneaks into your house to play in your blankets. the wildlife here is so friendly you're shocked, shouldn't they be frightened of you? however he sleeps under your bed and he's fine unless you try to kick him out. red fur is on everything, he seems unusually close to the wolf that looms around. loves scratches to the ears!

falcon hybrid! kyle who hovers in air around your house. he finds little trinkets for you and leaves them on your porch. he mostly hangs around price, but he will chirp greetings and steal bird feed from your feeders.

they protect you in different ways, trying to worm their way to your affections before they bed down in your abode for winter.

[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.”

[evermoreal]

thinking abt some kind of outlaw!au where the 141 walk away from a raid with a lot more than they bargained for.

a few weeks back they’d received word of a nobleman and his wife who’d be leaving for their honeymoon, valuables aboard the carriage. after a bit of lurking and bribing, they’d narrowed down just which road was desolate and wild enough to get away with the raid.

concealed by the bordering forests, they’d waited. an embarrassingly opulent carriage came dawdling down the road (polished wood, velvet curtains, ostentatious engravings) & they pounced.

the drivers & guards, they’d expected. the gunshots, the shouting. what took them by surprise, though, was the wife, who did not fight as gaz wrestled her into his arms. who watched a little too closely when ghost dragged his blade across her husband’s chest, demanding the location of their funds.

“where’s’a money?” price questioned, moving towards the woman when her husband’s pride weighed heavier than his cowardice. his broad palm gripped her jaw as gaz held her arms behind her back. “hm, lovey? y’speak english? y’better tell me, or your sweetheart ‘ere ‘ll be gutted before tha night’s over.”

she watched her husband writhe for a long moment, before meeting price’s gaze. her voice was flat, steady. “kill him.”

soap barked a laugh. ghost cocked his head.

price, though, was intrigued.

“kill ‘im?” he echoed. then, he lifted her hand, yanking the diamond ring off her finger and pinching it between his fingers. “wha’ bout this? just a rock, is it? ‘till death do us part’ mean nothin’ to ya?”

“words don’t mean much when you’re forced to say them, sir.”

“forced?” price questions, narrowed eyes flicking across your features. he looks to your husband, then, who’s soiled his pants. “tha fuck is this muppet forcin’?”

price is quiet for a while, watching your husband as he wriggles in ghost’s grip. when he meets your gaze, there’s a small, barely-there curve to his chapped lips. “you really want ‘im dead?” there’s an amusement to his tone, a disbelief.

you steel your gaze. “yes.”

the curve of his lips bends into a grin, and you’ve barely exhaled before he’s lifting his pistol, aiming it at your husband’s head, and shooting.

limp, he falls to the ground.

you don’t flinch. in fact your voice is steady when you state, “the money’s in the chest, beneath the seats.”

once again, price approaches you. grips your jaw, tilts your face this way and that. he taps your cheek twice, and says, “you heard the woman. soap, get the money. gaz, tie ‘er up, she’s with me.”

[bambisspeckles]

updated on the poly!141 pirate fic, shes done yaya! I'll probably write more of it (especially if you guys like it <3) but for right now it's not gonna be a formal multichapter fic. I'll write a few here and there while posting drabbles in between :3 fic will be up sometime tmr bc I still have to edit it but yay!! love you all kisses and also goodnight xx

[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

[whateveriwant]

Ghost is the type of dad that, when his kids are driving him up the fucking wall, pinches the bridge of his nose as he thinks to himself “I should’ve pulled out.”

Gaz is the type of dad that, when his kids are giving him attitude, drops them off at Nana’s house because he knows she’ll teach them a thing or two about respect.

Soap is the type of dad that, when his kids are being ungrateful little shits, takes all of the batteries/cables/chargers out of their devices and buries them somewhere in the yard.

Price is the type of dad that, when his kids are getting on his very last nerve, threatens to drop them off outside the nearest animal shelter like a box of unwanted puppies.

[lumibuns-blog]

Most desperate things the 141 boys have done for sex because I can't stop thinking about it <3

John's begged for it. I mean on his hands and knees begging for a taste. I know this man is an avid pussy pronoun user too. He has been on his knees in front of you as you sit pretty on his couch, trailing kisses up your soft belly to your tits and then back down to your thighs.

"C'mon sweet girl lemme' 'ave a taste of 'er yeah? Know she fuckin' needs me hm? Just look at tha'" as he runs a thumb of the wetness that's seeped through you thin panties, just waiting for you to say the words and let him tear them off.

He knows if anybody else in the 141 or if any of his fellow soldiers could see him now, the Captain Price practically drooling over you and sweet talking your cunt like it could hear him they would have a fit. But he couldn't care less because you looked so fucking good right now so "just let 'er 'ave what she wants alright sweet thing?"

I just know Kyle has spent 70% of his last month's pay check on hotel room because the 5 star pent house suite was the only hotel room in your area left available during the holidays. He played it cool with an arm around your waist assuring you it was fine, acting like this was the room he wanted to get, not the one he was forced to have. But if he was being forced to do anything thank god it was spoiling you.

"Don't worry 'bout it love. Just make 'urself comfortable" He'll say in a sultry sweet tone, planting kisses up the side of your neck before excusing himself to the lavish bathroom to check his bank account. He had to make sure he still had enough to buy you a nice breakfast in the morning.

And you're already layed out so pretty for him on the bed so he's not complaining about anything. Especially not the mirror situated on the ceiling right above the bed. Oh and don't you dare suggest splitting the cost, "just split your legs for me hun, 's all ya need to do"

Johnny is eager, like so so eager. When a passionate make out session on your couch got even more heated than either of you had previously expected and he now had his fingers playing with the waistband of your skirt, letting his cold finger tips splay themselves just below. When he got to the hem of your panties and began to hook a finger into the lace you had to stop him,

"Johnny"

"Yea?" He was breathless, chasing your lips when you pulled away to talk. You almost felt bad for separating but if he was going to touch you, there was one request you needed to make. You had felt his nails drag across your thighs moments earlier, it felt wonderful but they were...a little long.

"Do ya nae want this hen?" He'd ask, looking at you like you were a piece of art. Pleading with his eyes, shining like they'd spill tears if you said yes.

"No, no I want this, I want you so so much. It's just..." you trailed off

"Tell me what's wrong bonnie and I'll fix it, yeah?" his hands kept you grounded to his lap either a soft grip on you ass.

"It's just- you're nails, they're a little long" your request was nothing more than whisper.

'Oh' Johnny knew he probably should have just asked for clippers, but you felt so damn good on his lap. He could feel your warm cunt through the zipper of his jeans and with your tits brushing against his chest he couldn't bring himself to move.

You watched in shock as he just began to just tear his nails off with his teeth. Without a second thought his pointer and middle finger nails were bit off to the skin. He paused and looked at his right hand before ripping off the index finger as well.

"Johnny what's gotten into you-?"

But he's already got his hands back down your skirt. Soft finger tips slipping between your folds. "Feel better now eh?" And when you just nuzzled your nose into his neck and let out a little whimper he chuckled "I'll take tha' as a yes"

Simon swallows his pride for the first time in his life for a chance at hitting it raw. You tell him it's okay to not use protection, that you're on birth control. But you needed to make sure that he didn't have any stds seeing as they're even more of a pain when you're on birth control. Not that you don't trust him you just want to make sure and it's not a problem for him seeing as he has to get tested every other week being in the military.

He doesn't, however, have his records on him at the moment and with a girl already lying in his bed telling him he can cum inside. Plus a raging hard on, he doesn't exactly feel like running back to base to get the paper work. So...next best thing.

"Price-"

"Rare for ya to call on leave Simon, whatchya need?" Price responds, his voice cracking through the face time call, a cigar dangling from his lips.

"Sir I need..." he looks back at you, your eyes expectant and shining. You wanted him and he wasn't going to fuck this up. "Can you send me a picture of my last med check results?" He rushes out the last part, elbow on his knee and hand dragging over his face.

Price quirks one eyebrow but doesn't look like he's going to ask any questions. Unlucky for Simon though, Johnny was also in the room. His voice distantly coming through the phone,

"The feck ya need those for l.t.?" He questioned

Simon just groaned, soap's addition to this call just made it even more frustrating. But he snapped out of his frustration at the sound of price opening his file cabinet. "What part?" Price asked, dismissing Johnny with a wave of his hand.

"The-" Simon began, this was fucking embarrassing but when he looked back to you, now perched on your hands and knees, the plush of you hips resting on your ankles, he'd do anything at this point. "STD results." He responded plainly.

"Aye! No fuckin' way mate!" The sound of a chair scraping the floor could be heard as Johnny began to clammer over to his captain who pulled the sheet from his files.

"Ya didn't tell me he was in the room" Simon growled

"Ya didn't ask" Price droned

Johnny's head popped into frame "show me what she looks like ey l.t?"

"Not happening" Simon deadpanned

"Aw c'monnnn" The sergeant whined "just proud of you for finally getting some action!"

"Enough." Simon could see you biting your lip to stifle a laugh out of the corner of his eyes, a curious look in your eyes at his reddened face.

"Sent a picture to ya Simon" Price huffed, letting Johnny give him one last "good luck!" Before hanging up the phone.

You were a mess of giggles as he just shook his head and shoved the phone results in your face for you to look at. "See. Clean."

"Okay okay" you giggled, finally letting his form eclipse you back onto the pillows

"Went through a hell of a lot of trouble for ya, sweet girl" he whispered, nipping at the shell of your ear.

"I'll make it worth it" you said, kissing the corner of his lip and tangling your fingers in the back of his hair

"Christ woman" he groaned, feeling his cock twitch at your promise, "gunna' be the death a' me"

[buttdumplin]

yeah simon is the one to scare people away when they get too close you, using his size and movement to intimidate, simultaneously shielding you behind him

yeah soap is the one barking loud, creating a spectacle and calling people out, and warning them away

yeah kyle is the one humiliating people, mocking offenders until either their own actions dawn on them or they finally recognize the venom in his eyes

but price is the one that launches into swinging. there is no warning, no hesitation. taking a step, even a single word against you, warrants immediate action in his mind. it's no laughing fucking matter. you are a top fucking prize, his prize, the best the world has to offer. john is rabid in his protection, bearing tooth and boot and claw and fist. there’s no point in talking to him or trying to negotiate, an offense is an offense and he won’t meet it halfway. someone looks at you the wrong way? they won't be able to see out of swollen eyes after headbutts them, crushing their nose. someone whispers something nasty about you? good luck even eating with that jaw wired shut. god forbid someone touches you, the other three boys can barely hold him back. john will break countless bones in every way he knows and beat his knuckles bloody if your smile starts to drop.