#poly captains

[lizzie-and-chip-swap-au]

I feel like Jay and Gillion and Chip are in a polycule but not necessarily romantic, familial, platonic, or even queerplatonic.

It’s just a fluid unbreakable bond that goes beyond all labels and everyone interprets differently. They have the shrimp colors of a relationship.

[forsworned]

Being the only female on TF141 is like Simon constantly scolding you for getting into sheningans with Johnny and Kyle while Price sits on his arm chair with a good book, whiskey in hand and him puffing out smoke like a chimney from his cigar like the daddy he is.

"Delete it."

"Why?"

"Cos I fockin' said so."

You cock an amused brow at him as you look up from the embarrassingly cute photo of the skull-masked behemoth fast sleep and cuddling your Hello Kitty plushie. "Cos y'fockin' said so?" You mock his gravelly Manchester accent and it sends Johnny and Kyle into a fit of giggles. And even Price is chuffed by it. It's contagious really.

It lets your guard down enough for him to yank your phone out of your hand deleting the picture with a swiftness that made your eyes ream and your heart jump. You all groan and jeer at him for being a poor sport but he's quite satisfied with himself. Little does he know, you have a few copies of it in your desktop.

[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.

[halacska-fins]

Still proud of this one

[luvvictoria]

I've been thinking abt a poly!tf141 with a fem!reader who like is from the country side AND I'M CRACKING, OH LAWD!!!

Task Force 141 had seen you kill a man from 700 meters away. They had seen you tear through enemy lines with the precision of a seasoned warrior, your movements deadly and efficient. But what they hadn't seen—what they couldn���t wrap their heads around—was the life you returned to after every mission.

Because while Ghost, Soap, Price, and Gaz spent their leave in safe houses, military bases, or the occasional urban apartment, you?

You went home.

To the countryside.

To your massive, luxurious farmhouse nestled in the hills of a quiet village, where the air smelled of fresh hay, wildflowers, and the occasional whiff of cow.

And when TF141 finally visited, they were not prepared.

The First Time They Saw the Farm : "What the fuck—" Ghost had been the first to say it when you pulled up to your estate in an old pickup truck, the gravel crunching beneath the tires as you parked in front of a sprawling wooden house with a red-tiled roof.

There were animals everywhere.

A massive black and white cow lazily chewed its cud near the wooden fence. Chickens and roosters strutted about like they owned the place. A gray donkey stared at them with judgmental eyes. Two ducks waddled past as if they were on a mission. Dogs barked excitedly at the sight of you, tails wagging. A cat lounged on the porch, stretching in the warm sun.

And then—a fucking horse trotted up to you, nuzzling into your palm like a puppy.

"Price," Gaz whispered. "She has a fucking farm."

"A fancy one at that," Soap muttered, still stunned.

"You lot gonna stand there all day?" You grinned, tossing your duffel bag over your shoulder. "Come on in. Dinner’s almost ready."

They were bewildered. They had spent years with you, fighting side by side, seeing you covered in blood, sweat, and gunpowder—and now you were leading them up the front porch of your cozy countryside mansion like a perfect little housewife.

And the worst part? They liked it.

You, The Deadly Soldier and The Perfect Housewife

Soap had expected you to relax on your leave. Maybe sleep in, drink some tea, read a book.

But no.

You were up at the crack of dawn, slipping out of bed before any of them could pull you back in, dressed in overalls and a white tank top, heading out to feed the animals like it was just another mission.

"Morning, sweetheart," Price murmured, leaning against the doorway as he watched you toss hay to the horses.

"Morning, Captain," you teased, kissing his scruffy cheek before moving on to collect eggs from the hens.

Ghost watched in silence, arms crossed, as you scolded a particularly feisty rooster. "You peck me one more time, and I swear to God, I’m making soup outta you."

Gaz almost choked on his coffee when you turned around and gave them the sweetest, most innocent smile.

"You boys want breakfast?"

Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting at a massive wooden table in your warm, sunlit kitchen, eating fresh farm eggs, homemade bread, and smoked bacon.

And Soap was ready to propose.

Domesticity With a Side of Chaos

Price: Loves sitting on the porch with a cigar, watching you work. He helps with repairs, fixes fences, and absolutely adores the peacefulness of your home.

Ghost: The animals are terrified of him at first (except the donkey—the donkey hates him). But the barn cats adopt him, curling up in his lap whenever he sits down.

Soap: Thinks farm life is the best thing ever. He learns how to milk a cow, names every single chicken, and gets way too attached to a piglet.

Gaz: "Babe, I love you, but this rooster is evil." (He got chased one too many times.)

And at night?

After a long day of farm work, you slip into something soft and lacy, curl up in their arms, and remind them that you’re not just a soldier, not just a farmer—you’re theirs.

They Never Want to Leave

By the end of their stay, not a single one of them wants to go back.

"You sure we have to leave?" Soap pouts, feeding the ducks.

"Darlin’," Price murmurs against your neck one night, arms wrapped around you in bed, "Ever thought about retirin’ here? With us?"

Ghost doesn’t say it out loud, but when he watches you laugh, your hands covered in flour as you bake bread, he knows he never wants to be anywhere else.

And Gaz?

He just sighs, watching the sunset over the hills. "I never thought I’d say this, but…I think I’m in love with farm life."

They were all in love. With you. With this. With the life they could have, if only they stayed.

Maybe one day.

For now, they’d enjoy every stolen moment in their countsyde paradise. But what if we make thing spicy ? A little bit, at least.

Ghost Was The First To Break

Ghost had held strong. Longer than the others.

While Soap got weak-kneed watching you bend over to pick up hay, and while Gaz couldn’t stop staring at your thighs in those tiny denim shorts, Ghost had kept his cool.

Until that damn sundress.

White. Light. Flowy. Just enough fabric to tempt, but never satisfy—clinging to your curves, slipping off your shoulders as you carried a bucket of water to the horses.

He had been cleaning his rifle on the porch, but his grip tightened the moment he saw the fabric sway with your every step.

And then?

You had the audacity to look over your shoulder and wink at him.

He dropped the rifle.

Soap Lost It In The Barn

Soap had always been shameless about his attraction to you.

But you?

You were even worse.

It was an accident—(was it?)—when you walked into the barn one night, looking for something. The others were inside, drinking whiskey in the house, but Soap had been alone, brushing down one of your horses.

And then he saw you.

Wet.

Covered in rain.

Your thin white blouse clung to you, completely see-through, nipples pebbled against the fabric.

"Lass," he had rasped, watching as you closed the barn door behind you, stepping forward, voice all honeyed and sweet.

"Johnny," you had purred, voice dripping with something that wasn’t innocence, "I’m cold."

He snapped.

The horse had seen things that night.

Price Was The Most Dangerous

Price was a man of control.

A man of restraint.

A man who knew how to bide his time.

But you?

You tested him.

You liked to push. You liked to see how far you could go before he gave in.

And God help you—you found his limit.

It was late. The others were asleep. You were making tea in the kitchen, standing on your tiptoes to reach a mug from the top shelf.

Price had walked in just as your nightgown slipped up your thighs.

It wasn’t fair.

The soft, white cotton. The little lace trim. The way your bare legs looked so smooth, so inviting—and the sleepy way you turned, so unaware of what you were doing to him.

You looked up at him, mug in hand, and smiled. "You want some tea, Cap?"

And then—his hands were on your hips.

Voice rough.

"You know damn well what I want, sweetheart."

Gaz Had It The Worst

Gaz?

Gaz was a goner the first time he saw you in nothing but boots and his shirt.

You had come in from the field soaked in sweat, hair messy, thighs speckled with dirt. You had tossed your muddy clothes into the laundry room, grabbed his green tactical shirt, and walked around the house like it wasn’t driving him insane.

"Babe," he groaned, rubbing a hand down his face, watching you stretch, the hem of his shirt riding up to dangerous levels.

You blinked. All innocent. "What’s wrong?"

Gaz was a patient man. A respectful man. A man who was about to lose his goddamn mind.

"Come here."

You smirked, walking over slowly, pressing your hands to his chest.

"You’re so easy to rile up," you giggled.

His hand wrapped around your throat.

"And you’re about to learn what happens when you push too far."

[notquitecanon]

Search History // Poly!141 x Reader

A continuation of this thought

Summary: Reader (based loosely on Penelope Garcia from Criminal Minds) has to be face-to-face with the boys for the first time since they started including her in their late-night fantasies. They've decided it's time to take it off-screen and move in IRL.

I'm taggin the peeps who replied to the last part bc I'm desperate for attention lol (in all actuality y'all really encouraged me to actually write thank you!!)

CW: allusions to porn, allusions to female genitalia, they're all horny in the workplace, this is basically workplace harassment but we're excusing it because they're hot and fictional and I say so, no outright smut

Still nsfw though so MDNI pls and thanks

“The 141 just touched down. ETA twenty minutes.” 

Your eyes flicked up from the muted video on your monitor, cheeks flushed red but masked by the light radiating off your screen in your dark office. Thank God, your monitor faced away from the door. A young private was standing in the doorway with a tablet, looking at you for an acknowledgment, probably running about starting preparations for their arrival back on home base. 

“Thank you, private.” You murmured, teeth toying at your thumbnail, chipping the polish. The young soldier gave a short nod at the quiet dismissal and disappeared once again. Your eyes, with embarrassingly blown pupils, flicked back to the video. 

After your discovery two weeks ago, the sites and links you had to review furthered down the rabbit hole. And this video you were currently watching had been one that all the men had been visiting, and revisiting, and revisiting… 

By god, they’d done it. 

Similar build, skin tone only a shade or two different - you could probably share foundation and it wouldn’t look too bad. Hair and eye color so close it was uncanny. And when the woman looked over her shoulder at the mountain of a man hitting it from the back, the angle made the resemblance almost scarily uncanny.  The Had you had a porn career and simply forgotten?- kind of uncanny. 

Sure there were differences- she was a little taller, maybe a bit leaner, with boobs that had definitely had some work done. Tattoos where your skin was bare and vice versa, different piercings. Her voice was pitched different, and her accent was completely different from yours but within three minutes of the video she’d stopped speaking words, so accent didn’t matter much.  But as far as porn actresses went- she might as well be your twin. 

It seemed the 141 had perused her entire.. filmography. Different videos, different scenarios, different partners. They all had videos they seemed to like better than others. Soap seemed to particularly like the POV video where the man had a thick Scottish accent. Gaz had bookmarked a soft-core bondage and forced orgasm scene. Price, a shorter video of an unseen man pushing the actress under a desk for oral, and Ghost… the only link he’d visited was your instagram. It was hard not to let it stroke your ego a little bit. 

God, if you told anyone about this… They’d tell you to file a workplace harassment suit, and maybe a police report.  To start job hunting, and therapist hunting. Distance yourself. You should have been embarrassed or uncomfortable- you knew you should be. That you should feel objectified or disrespected, disgusted. 

But hell, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t send yourself the links and watched them in your free time at home. It was hot- turned you on in an almost concerning way that would set feminism back twenty years if you told anyone. 

The video kept playing on your monitor, one of the videos that Soap had visited more than once (little did you know it was one that Ghost had picked out). A gloved hand smoothly glided down the actress's spine before curving around her throat and pulling her upright on the man’s lap, filthy praises in a British accent playing through your single AirPod. 

“Holy shit…”  You muttered, thighs clenching because if you squinted it really did look like you, even some of her mannerisms. And the rough accent was like a mix of Ghost's and Price’s. 

Abruptly, you shut down the entire monitor completely, ripping out the AirPod and tossing it on the desk. Pressing slightly shaking hands to your too hot face. You needed to get it together, because Price was your boss and the others were your superiors. They’d been gone for a month and a half, and it’d been your voice in their ears guiding them through missions, and you knew you had a flirty disposition, especially from the private safety of your dark little office half way across the world. 

It made sense that their wires got a little crossed, but your wires- like those off all your monitors and hardware- needed to stay neatly organized and separate. Focus. Focus. 

Your nails were bitten to the quick, the bitter taste of old nail polish on the back of your tongue. The skin around your nails was raw from your teeth toying with it as your so intensely focussed on the videos. You needed to get out of this too small, too hot room.  Which is how you found yourself, twenty minutes later, in the communal break room fighting with the vending machine. It was withholding the ice cold water you were desperate for, despite your curses and attempts to jostle the machine. Right as you delivered a frustrated kick to the machine-

“Just the bird we were looking for!” 

It was Kyle’s voice first, that tipped you off to the herd of men entering the space. You almost jumped out of your skin- brain flitting through several scandalous snippets of the videos he’d replayed. His smile was dazzling as always as he came into view, tapping the yellow warning stickers that instructed people not to jostle the machine, with the little illustration of the stick man getting crushed, “What’d the machine ever do to you? It might start fighting back.” 

A gloved hand reached between the two of you, skeleton fingers curled into a fist that delivered a blunt strike, and, like magic, the water bottle fell in to the receptacle. You peeked over your shoulder at Ghost, standing just slightly too close and looking down at you intensely, but not meanly. An easy to miss bit of mirth that was usually reserved for Soap. Thank god you’d bitten your nails to stubs or they would’ve drawn blood from how they were digging into your palms to distract you from the gloved hands and the brutish display of strength. 

Kyle put the drink sweetly in your hands after cracking it for you, like he would do when bringing Ghost or Price something, eyes twinkling like he knew something you didn’t.  Another hand, warm and large clapped gently on your shoulder, pulling you back a step, almost directly into Captain Price’s chest. 

The men shared a look over your head before focussing back on you. 

“Your intel was good.” It was a simple statement, but delivered in a warm, proud tone that felt so much like praise that your stomach flipped a bit, with that warm smile that made him look soft despite the fact he was still in full tac-gear, “They didn’t even see us coming.” 

“They never see you coming, that’s kind of your whole thing.” You tried a joke, your voice a touch strained. His hand was lingering, right on the curve where your shoulder became your neck, fingers flexing into the flesh just so. Just like it did on the boys when he thought others wouldn’t noticed. focus, focus, focus. 

Fortunately, or unfortunately, it was Soap that interrupted the kneading of Price’s fingers. 

“Don’t be so modest, bonnie!” He was laughing as large arms caught you around the waist, lifting and spinning you slightly. His voice so similar to that one Scottish co-star that had done such filthy things to your lookalike, it made your head spin.  Despite your startled yelp and squirming, his grip didn’t waver, “Couldn’t of done it without our lass in the chair.” 

“ ’nough, Johnny,” Ghost called firmly, leaning against the vending machine that they’d all but cornered you against, “Put ‘er down.” 

Soap’s laugh was still good natured as he set you on your feet again, a little roughly for the heels you had on to match your skirt, you wobbled only for Ghost himself to steady you, giving you another intense look, that you had trouble meeting, “ 'e’s right though. Intel was good.” 

They were all staring at you, varying degrees of smirks, eyes a spectrum of mischief and something that was dizzyingly close to hunger.  Unable to keep still, you were squirming, shifting your weigh from foot to foot, fiddling with the wrapper on the bottle. You found your eyes flitting around settling anywhere but their own gaze, cheeks feeling hot, mind full of vile images that you knew they’d seen and enjoyed- ceiling, the exit sign, Johnny’s tac-vest, the floor, the water bottle in your hands. You gulped, eyebrows raising as you puffed a breath, trying desperately to reign yourself in.

“Glad to be of service.” You smiled tightly, nodding meeting each set of eyes briefly and hoping your foundation masked your blush (it didn’t). Jesus Christ, you couldn’t do this.  You couldn’t tell if you felt turned on or awkward or both, but you needed to go. Preferably before you did something that would cost you your job. Your voice was rushed as you squeezed between Gaz and Price, double timing it to the exit, “Enjoy your leave, boys, you deserve it.” 

As you all but fled the building, you typed out a mass base-wide memo email, language formal as you professionally reminded every soldier, specifically four of them, that any website visited by government devices was subject to internal review. 

You swore you could hear them laughing as the memo went out. But maybe that was just your overactive imagination. 

____

You’d gone home for the evening, and then clocked back in the following morning. Surprised to find all of the 141 was still there, debriefing must have ran long. 

“Morning, love.” It was Kyle that greeted you, pressing a cup of coffee into your hands. He looked tired but happy to see you. Soap was with him, eyes bright and grin wide as he whistled lowly, fingers tugging at the hem of your skirt as you passed his seat. 

“Looking good, bonnie,” He smiled devilishly, rubbing the fabric between his fingers before letting go, “Tired of all the green, black, and beige tac gear. Missed seeing something a little… softer.”  

You somewhat doubted that. He seemed to appreciate military khaki when it hugged Gaz’s ass, and he sure didn’t seem to mind an all black tactical ensemble when it was on Ghost. But the compliment still brought heat up your neck, which you coupled with a sip of the hot coffee Gaz had brought you- fixed perfectly the way you liked it. It elicited a pleased sigh as you swallowed, humming in content. 

“Price wants to see you before we all leave. Brought you some new stuff to work on.” Kyle smiled, watching how your expression softened at the taste of the beverage, clearly proud of himself for drawing out that reaction.   

“A present? For me?” You smiled sarcastically back at the prospect of more work added to you caseload, “It’s like Christmas.” 

“You been good this year?” Kyle grinned back, accompanied by Soap chiming, voice low and chiding, “Nah, she’s definitely been naughty.” 

Both Sergeant’s shared a look as you almost choked on another sip of coffee. 

“I’m leaving now.” You shook your head, turning on your heel away from where they were hanging around the rec room, clearly waiting for Price to dismiss them, “Y’all should shower. Or take a nap.” 

“You want us naked?” Kyle questioned, raising his eyebrows at you, leaning back against the wall, standing so very close to Soap, who was sprawled out in his chair, long legs splayed and spread before him as he waggled his eyebrows. “And in bed?” 

Now that was some imagery. Taking the lord’s name in vain you didn’t dignify that with a response other than a huffed, “Leaving now.” 

____

The good thing about Price and Ghost was they were business first. So if you really focussed you could almost ignore Ghost's thigh pressed against yours as you sat beside him in the dark room, reviewing body cam footage. They pointed out different things to you, things to include as you started your next dark web deep dive. 

You could almost ignore how Price’s fingers grazed and lingered on your palm as he gave you a thumb drive to decrypt and analyze, how he stood close enough to you that you had to look at him through your lashes. 

“Has a self destruct program that Gaz didn’t want t' aggravate. Figured it needed your... soft touch.” Price smiled down at you as you curled your fingers around the thumb drive. You had to try pretty hard to ignore the slight emphasis on soft. Ghost seemed to chuckle lowly at your expression at the captain. 

“What’s on there'll point us in the next direction of our next target.” Ghost nodded to you, his leg shifting so it pressed harder against yours. In the guise of stretching out, he’d draped an arm over the back of your chair, the cotton of his gloves half tickling the sensitive skin on the back of your bicep, where the flesh was soft. 

“So don’t screw it up, got it.” You swallowed thickly, shifting so you couldn’t feel his thumb against your skin- it was making it hard to think about hacking and terrorism and military operations.  He took it as an invitation to spread out more, his fingers grazing the exact spot only seconds later. 

“Precisely,” John laughed lowly, his hand moved to your shoulder, back into that sweet curve that was partly your shoulder and partly your neck, and gave it a lingering squeeze, that kind of made you want to melt, “You won’t screw it up, love.” 

The captain gave his Lieutenant a nod, and Ghost quickly stood, his boot giving the toe of your pretty heels a slight nudge as a goodbye before silently stalking out. Price took a seat across from you, leaning back and his arms cross comfortably over his chest.

“I’m having the boys over at mine tonight. A couple of drinks, I’m gonna grill, put the footie on, celebrate another successful mission to start our leave.” Price listed out their plans casually, noting how you squirmed a bit, uncrossing and recrossing your legs as you tugged at the hem of your skirt before continuing, “We want you to come. Couldn’t have done it without you, so you should celebrate it too.” 

“Oh, uh-“ You started before you could think of a good excuse, “I’ll be really busy… with.. with the flash drive. And stuff.” 

“What stuff?” Price rose a single brow, his stare pinning you still as he reached across the table and took the flash drive back, “This can wait.” 

“Files. Coding. Security checks.” You mumbled the first couple aspects of your job that came to mind, the intensity of his gaze making you want to adjust your collar or shrink in your seat. You figured you’d have a couple more sites to clear off their devices, if they’d been sitting around base all night. Your cheeks heated just at the thought. “I’m a little behind. Been… distracted lately."

“Everything all right, love?” He ‘asked’ with at signature warm smile and amused eyes, he seemed to already know the answer to his question, “You’ve been… skittish, since we got back.” 

Your teeth worried the seam of your lips as you considered the question. Skittish, was one way to put it- fidgety, fleeing rooms, avoiding eye contact, barely speaking as opposed to your usual chatter and banter. Your eyes flitted away from his gaze again, swallowing dryly again- geez when did you get so shy, “ ‘m fine. Absolutely fine. Never been better. How’re you?” 

Cringing at your own rambling, you sighed shoulders drooping as he fixed you with another look, and muttered your name in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. It was a look that expected obedience, as his legs shifted into a natural man spread. Your brain flitted back to the video of your look alike being shoved under a desk… 

Him saying your name again, slightly louder but just as bemused drew you back to him, realizing you were staring at his legs, debating if you could fit between his knees and you almost sputtered as you cleared your throat, “I’m fine, really.” 

“Either lie more convincingly or tell me what’s bothering you, sweet.”  Price chuckled, leaving forward against the table, drumming a knuckle against the table. Sweet, that was new. You’d have to add it to the laundry list of nicknames and pet names the boys had for you. You’d always told yourself that it was nothing personal, that British/Scottish people just did that. But this on wasn’t as easy to write off as ‘love’ or ‘bonnie’, average pet names in the UK colloquial, no sweet seemed personal. 

“I’m not bothered.” You glanced away again, nose wrinkling, even though you were bothered- hot and bothered. John Price had a way of drawing details out of people with just a look and a couple of well prodded words.  With a deep breath, you tried to keep your characteristic rambling to a minimum, a losing battle as he starting stroking at his beard with those long fingers- two parts of him that you’d been thinking about way too much lately-, “Listen, I’m not judging, you’re grown men, watch what you want to, but just a reminder that it’s my job and obligation to review every link and site that government devices visit. Which includes at least skimming videos.  In case you didn’t know or maybe forgot that I can and do see these things, so maybe you could pass that along to the boys-“ 

“You can tell 'em yourself. ’s your job, sweet.” Price said firmly. The girlish part of your brain corrected ‘firmly’ to dominantly. Before his demeanor relaxed again, giving you an amused, appraising look again, “At my place. Tonight. 8 o’clock. Not a request.” Shrinking in your chair a bit, hoping the chair hid the way your thighs involuntarily clenched, you couldn’t help but nod and squeak, “Yes, sir.” 

___

Part Two

Was supposed to have actually smut in this but I got carried away on the build-up, laugh out loud. Maybe a part three or you can just imagine how the little dinner party goes (hint, she's the meal)

Tags: @fruitymoonbeams-blog @viviennevianna @savas-q1 @cringeycookies @lainey-laines @buttercup337 @acosmisted @carqueensworld @tmartin0918 @dreamland08 @sheepdogchick @hidden-wildflowers @lilynotdilly @astrxsee @joopyjup @originalsoulcollector @henhouse-horrors @ohdrey89 @red5tars @cod-z @balletbiscuit @spacecrawllerr @scrumptioussportstoadgarden-blog @blues-of-neptune @monster-effer @yunho-leeknow @ungodlydilf @pluviofleur @jandthecrow @fangtoothgod @coquetterie-dancer @sapphires-and-silver-things @ghost-is-my-bbg @loveergirll @silly-starfish @popkle @honestlymassivetrash @not-mentally-sane @devoetee @beloveds-embrace @jellyamour @simon141price @divinecat

[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

[partiallysame]

More Price's lil wife

You met the boys once and now you need more obviously

Had you known something in the house breaking meant big strong sexy handsome muscle burly men would come over you would have lived life a little differently. Knowing your husband only sent his team to you because he was out of town meant you had to wait again until he was separated from the rest of 141. A quick phone call to your husband that the fridge wasn’t working (hammer to whatever the pipes and wires on the back were). And an hour later you felt like you were watching Bay Watch or staring at a sexy fireman’s calendar when here comes Riley, MacTavish, and Garrick hoping out of a large truck and strutting down your sidewalk. Tight shirts. Wind blowing. Tools in their hands being tossed and caught one handed why is that sexy? 

“Heard a sweet thing needed some help.” You’re drooling

Aw man, one look at the fridge and they say you need a new one. Too damaged. All staring at you knowingly and the hammer on the counter you definitely forgot to hide. But since their already here, how about some lunch. Soap admits that other than the last meal you made them he had only been eating mess hall foods. “Think of you and your delicious food everytime im eating there.” Now that simply won’t do. When Price gets back you will be asking (demanding) for them to come over for dinner at least once a month (once a week). 

They didn't even make it back to the car when you ran back out. ‘Oh i forgot there's a hole in the garage. (Same hammer from before now covered in drywall.) The power went out. No idea what happened. Lil ol you def didn’t flick every switch until something happened. Easy fix. Wait wait the wifi isn’t working now (unplugged). However many hours later they leave and you get a text from your husband.

“You can just ask for them to come over. Stop breaking things my love.” oops

[homeofthelonelywriter]

The boys still couldn’t believe it. They had just taken down Makarov, Johnny barely surviving it, and now they were somewhere in America, in a beach house with a strip of private beach. All curtesy of Kate, apparently it belonged to her family but was hardly used, so the boys using it was a welcome change.

They had been uncertain if they wanted to accept the (paid for) vacation, but after they all finally got released from the hospital, Price decided it was time for a break and some relaxation. So, they packed their bags and flew to the States. Kate had given them a brief introduction on what was where over the phone and the excitement grew, especially when she mentioned that there was scuba diving equipment.

So, the moment they arrived, after quickly dumping their stuff in the entry way and changing, they grabbed the equipment and set out into the waters. Even Simon couldn’t suppress a small smile or hide his excitement. At first, they stayed fairly close to the surface, but after Johnny saw a colorful fish he wanted to follow, they continued on into deeper waters. And that was when they heard it.

At first, it sounded like a wounded animal, but nothing like anything they had heard before. Either way, a sudden protectiveness coursed through them as they followed the sound to the source. And then they saw it. Or rather her. You.

Your tail had gotten stuck in an abandoned fishing net and you couldn’t get out. Originally, you had tried to reach your people with your cries, but no one came. Well, except for these four men suddenly in front of you. The few encounters you had with humans so far, had never ended well, so no one could blame you when you shrunk back in fear, reaching for the dagger that usually rested in its sheath on your hip, but you had lost it when you tried to free yourself earlier.

The men and you starred at each other for a few moments, before one of them approached. Immediately you tried to swim away, momentarily forgetting about the net, but you were immediately pulled back as the rope cut into your scales. A pained wail escaped you, as blood slowly seeped into the water. The man quickly raised his hands, before slowly gesturing to the net and then to his thigh, where you could see a small knife. You could see his eyebrows raise, as if asking for permission, and you slowly nodded, hoping that they would just let you go afterwards.

He mirrored your nod, before slowly approaching you and taking out his knife. With precision that was unknown to you, he cut through the rope until you were free. Out of reflex, you darted away, your tail swishing hard enough to send the man back a bit, making him loose his grip on the knife and you watched as it disappeared into the darkness. You glanced back at the four, before diving into the darkness, after the knife. Along with it, you found your dagger, which you put back in its place, before swimming back up, just to see the four still there, as if they hadn’t moved. Slowly, you swam up to the man who freed you and held out the knife with both hands, a small smile gracing your lips.

He took it from you, nodding in thanks. After one more glance over all of them, you turned around and swam back to your home, taking a few detours in case they were following you. But when you came to rest later that day, you mind stayed with the men. No matter what you did, you couldn’t stop thinking about them. And little did you know that they had the exact same problem.

Pt. 2 Pt. 3

A/N: Inspired by a post by @beloveds-embrace. Should I continue this?

[moody-alcoholic]

CW: stalking behaviour, over protective 141, fluff.

“See her coming out now.” Ghost says over the radio.  

“Afirm.” Soap’s voice comes back almost instantly. Ghost watches as you stumble over the pavement, pulling your jacket over your shoulders. It’s almost 3am, and most clubs are closing. The friend you came out with left an hour ago. Now you’re alone, drunk, swaying through the streets of London on a busy Saturday night. 

“Watch your distance Soap, no need to spook her.” Price says.

“Copy.” Soap says as he weaves his way through the crowd of clubbers spilling out of the various nightclubs and bars. He keeps his head low, making sure to keep a safe distance from you. They’re not going to lose sight of you though. That’s what Ghost is for. 

He slips between the crowds on the other side of the street, slipping into the shadows every opportunity he gets. 

“She’ll take the next right. Don’t lose her.” Price says as you pick up your pace slightly. He’ll be driving to the next location, ready to pick you up at a moment's notice. You pull your phone out, typing while you struggle to keep your balance. Ghost lost track of how many drinks you had. 

It was a celebration after all, your friend getting a big promotion, she took you to one of the fanciest bars in the city. Even though she left early you still seemed to be having fun, helping yourself to another drink before finally deciding to call it a night. 

The streets off the main road are darker, quieter. Less room for error.

Suddenly you make a sharp turn, almost throwing your body down a dark alleyway. Ghost’s lost visual, he speeds up his strides, he has no idea if the alley is a dead end or not. 

“Soap, don’t lose her.” Ghost orders panic building in his chest. There’s no reply, now Ghost can’t even see Soap. “Soap, confirm visual on the target.” 

Ghost jogs to the next street over, nothing but shuttered buildings and the odd person heading home. 

“Stand-by.” The seconds feel like they’re ticking on for hours. “Eyes on target, she’s-” 

The line goes silent. 

“She’s just throwing up, seems like she’s had a few too many.” Soap says. Ghost can almost hear the collective sigh as he slips back into the darkness waiting for you to emerge from the alley. When you do you seem even more unsteady on your feet. 

“Keep it tight, she’s got another main strip to cross.” Price says. He’ll be moving on already. The amount of times you’ve walked this route. The amount of times they’ve practiced this route, it’s almost like a rehearsed play they could do in their sleep. 

You move on weaving through the growing crowds of the next cluster of clubs. They seem busier than the last. You work through them quickly, Soap keeping his distance, pushing through people without a care. He has one motive, one mission; never lose sight of you. 

As you make it to the quieter end of the street a group of lads cat-call you. You brush it off waving at them as you skip over to the next turn. Almost home. 

“ETA 10 minutes.” Ghost says hugging the shadows on the opposite side of the street. 

“Copy,” Price says, he will be in his final position. For the next few minutes the walk goes smoothly, you’re almost home, almost safe. 

“Got a guy on her six, just overtook me.” Soap says. Ghost’s eyes flick over in an instant. 

“I see.” Ghost says, watching as the man’s pace slows. “Hang back Soap. I got eyes.” 

Ghost doesn’t even hear a reply, his eyes digging into the man now following a few steps behind you. You seem to notice too, quickly taking a peak over your shoulder, pulling your jacket around you tighter. You’re almost there, almost home. 

“Want me to grab him?” Soap asks. As he says it you pick up your speed, your body straightens up. 

“Negative.” 

You turn into the front garden of the house, shutting the gate behind you. The hairs rise on the back of your neck as you fumble with the key pressing it into the lock and opening the door. The feeling of being followed suddenly fades as you make it inside, locking the door behind you. 

“Hey, welcome home.” Kyle says, sticking his head out the kitchen. You smile walking over to him and wrapping your hands around his neck.

“It’s late, you didn’t have to wait up.” you say pressing your lips on his. He kisses you back, his hands gripping your waist. 

“Needed to make sure you got home safe.” You hear John say. You break from the kiss looking over at him sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of tea in front of him. You walk over wrapping your arms around him from behind squeezing him. 

The smell of tea fills your nose and makes you thirsty. 

“Cuppa? Or bed?” Kyle asks, walking over, placing his hand on the small of your back. You hum looking round the kitchen.

“Where’s Johnny and Simon?” You ask. 

“Sleeping, they’re not used to staying up as late as you are.” John chuckles. You smile looking up at Kyle.

“Bed.” You say. He smiles back at you kissing the top of your head. 

“C’mon, I’ll give you a hand.” Kyle says pulling on your waist turning you to the stairs. John hears you giggling as you stumble up the steps to the first floor. A few seconds later the back door slowly opens, Johnny and Simon slipping in. John raises an eyebrow, quickly checking behind him to make sure you’re definitely gone. 

“You better hurry up, I’m pretty sure she’s looking to climb into your bed tonight.” John says as Simon and Johnny look at eachother. Johnny's smiles, taking his coat off and leaving his radio on the kitchen island. 

“Get some rest cap, you look exhausted.” Johnny says, patting him on the shoulder as he passes him. John sighs looking up at Simon. 

“Another successful night.” John says as Simon puts his radio down. 

“Always.” Simon smiles.

_______ What if something went wrong?

👏zero👏self👏control👏

[deunmiu-dessie]

𐙚₊˚⊹♡ 23 c.o.d men rambles with nsfw visuals (p-links) ♡

featuring!— kyle ‘gaz’ garrick, johnny ‘soap’ mactavish, simon ‘ghost’ riley, john ‘captain’ price, phillip graves, könig, vladimir makarov! ♡

₁ 𐙚 imagine fucking john doggy style, and he’s jus’ so horny for you so you guys don't even make it to the bed :( he tosses you onto the couch and lifts your ass into the air, his thick, meaty cock bruising your insides. then he grips your hair and bends you back to slant his lips over yours in a messy kiss 😖

₂ 𐙚 having a sloppy make-out session with gaz when he gets back from a mission. sucking on his tongue and whimpering into his mouth while his big hands run up and down your thighs and ass. gaz always gets you so needy and wet before he dicks you down, having tears streaming down your face and thighs trembling :((

₃ 𐙚 soap fucking his cum back into your swollen pussy while whining and whimpering, promising to get you pregnant; thick and hard at the thought of you round with his kids. he pumps your pussy to the brim with his cum that night, til it drips down your thighs.

₄ 𐙚 gaz loves to record the two of you having sex, and loves to send it to the 141 group chat. loves to show off his pretty girl whose pussy takes his big cock so well :( loves to show them how well you moan and beg, loves to show them your fucked out face, loves the way the team goes feral as you moan their names with bleary eyes and drool spilling down your chin. loves to show them that regardless, you're his.

₅ 𐙚 simon using your pussy as a cumdump... literally, when you act like a brat. he'll have you lay naked across the bed, hand fisting his cock as gazes at your tits, your needy cunt drooling and clenching. he'll watch as you cry and beg for him to fuck you, your wrists bound together and tied to the headboard. then he'll press his thick tip into your pussy and spill himself inside. brats don't get to cum, as he likes to say— sorry :(

₆ 𐙚 kyle 'will overstimulate you while pussydrunk' garrick. baby gaz just loves the taste of your pussy, especially after going so long without it :( you're so warm and sweet, needy and sobbing-- and he's missed the feel of your thick thighs wrapped around his head, missed the feeling of your hands running through his hair. so, just let him enjoy his meal.

₇ 𐙚 needy soap who swears he'll just rock against your panties, his thick cock nudging your fattened clit which presses eagerly against the pre-cum soaked fabric. soap who moves your panties to the side and shushes you with a kiss to your lips, swearing he'll just thrust against you; thumb brushing against your bundle of nerves. soap who loses himself in the moment, gripping your thighs and looking at you with pleading eyes, swearing he'll only use the tip, thick, bulbous head already stretching your pussy. 🥺

₈ 𐙚 after you had the baby, john can't stop thinking about seeing you swollen and round again, with your breasts heavy, and thighs thick. john who breeds your pussy at any moment he can. whether it be with you bent over the counter and cooking dinner, with you sleep; your pussy warm and welcoming, or even in the shower, your milk-heavy tits pressed against the shower door. ( bonus )

₉ 𐙚 makarov who finally gives in to your pleading demands, his hands rough as he forces you onto the bed, yanking down your skirt and pulling your panties to the side. his gaze is cold and calculating, even a bit annoyed. makarov who snatches the loli from your mouth, running it up your slick pussy before pushing it in. "Это то, что вы хотели, да?"

₁₀ 𐙚 he makes sure to fuck you well before he leaves on a mission, his thick cock bullying your slick cunt full of his cum. gaz makes sure you know who your pussy belongs to, makes sure he has your thighs trembling in his arms as he fucks you against the shower wall.

₁₁ 𐙚 simon loves to watch you ride him, loves to have your tits in his face, taking one of your sensitive nipples into his mouth. loves to hear you whine that your cumming for the fifth time, loves to watch as his abdomen becomes sticky with your creamy cum. loves watching your lips tremble and your eyes water as he thrusts sharply into you, knocking on your cervix and bruising it.

₁₂ 𐙚 having sex with gaz always overstimulates you in every sense of the word and not just with your body. gaz loves to watch you fall apart on his cock, loves to grab your chin and keep your eyes locked with his, loves to watch your gaze get bleary and your mouth struggle to form words all while his hand moves in quick figure eights on your clit, cock spearing through you deliciously. gaz will press kisses to your swollen lips, groaning into your mouth. "on me, luv. le' me see those gorgeous eyes."

₁₃ 𐙚 price loves to suck on your tits, while his cock slowly pumps in and out of you. loves to bury his face into the valley, placing kisses and sucking hickies. john price sucks on your nipples like a man starved, thick hands squeezing and kneading :(

₁₄ 𐙚 imagine getting punished by boyfriend graves because you fucked up during a mission, the objective getting away. he tells everyone to leave the room, glaring eyes stuck on yours. graves who orders you to strip, pushing you down against a busted couch, yanking down your combat pants, and tearing your panties. graves who angrily unzips himself, as you blubber and plead, pussy leaking and ready. he watches as your pussy struggles to take his cock, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you apologize repeatedly. "don't want to fucking hear it, sergeant."

₁₅ 𐙚 gaz fucking you into the bed after he gets home from a mission gone awry. soft lover gaz who just can't be his usual giving self. gaz who takes what he needs from you, regardless of the tears that stream down our face.

₁₆ 𐙚 könig, all needy can't help but fuck your thighs, whimpering and whining :(

₁₇ 𐙚 having a threesome with soap and gaz; who can't help but record as soap practically makes love to you with his eyes. gaz who could care less as you forget all about his cock, breathing heavily as he watches as your pussy struggles to swallow soap's cock. gaz who sends the video to the 141 group chat.

₁₈ 𐙚 imagine makarov sharing your pussy with yuri as a reward to the man. makarov who guides your mouth over his cock, all while sipping on his alcohol; yuri fucking into your pussy needily, grunting and groaning as you squeeze around him.

₁₉ 𐙚 100 percent believe this is how gaz and soap eat you out, prove me wrong. i'll wait. ( bonus: since soap made you cum first, you granted his wish. )

₂₀ 𐙚 john overstimulating you while whispering how much of a good girl you are, slapping at your thighs when you cringe away from him, his thick fingers finding your clit again. john who fucks into ravenously, cooing as you shudder and buck against him.

₂₁ 𐙚 graves finally puts your smart mouth to work, shoving his thick length down your throat. graves angrily saying your pussy isn't good enough for his cock. his words, not mine.

₂₂ 𐙚 angry sex with toxic gaz, who swears no one will ever fuck you as good as he will. who tells you that you belong to him, that you were made for each other, that you won't leave him. who fucks you dumb until you promise to stay.

₂₃ 𐙚 soap swears he won't cum inside you...

spent hours scrolling through twitter porn, help me.😔

[lizzie-and-chip-swap-au]

I got another AU. Three gods AU.

Instead of the sun and moon, there’s gods of the undersea, the land, and the oversea. The eldest and wisest is the god of land, middle and currently most powerful is the god of the undersea, and the youngest/most mischievous is the god of the oversea.

Instead of fighting, though, the 3 Gods understand they need balance and love their siblings so would never want to destroy the worshippers that give them life.

Down on the material plane:

Fleet Admiral Jay, Chip the Pirate King, and Gillion (Champion of the Unsersea, etc) were basically groomed from birth to be mortal enemies. With a little interference from the Gods, however, they’ve grown up together through dreams and are best friends.

They’re the chosen ones born to keep peace across the 3 Followed (gods.) So hijinks ensue of pretending to fail to catch each other while they desperately try to turn their sides towards not war.

Bonus points: three way star crossed lovers if you’re into poly captains.

TL;DR: AU where the albatrio are leaders in their respective fields but are secretly bffs.

[7s3ven]

FILE LOADING… tf 141 x hacker! reader

pt one

You needed a way to lighten your prison sentence and Task Force needed a hacker who actually knew what they were doing.

It was a win-win situation if it wasn’t for the fact that you always work alone. Teamwork? That was an unheard concept to you.

You, with a criminal record so long it could be used as a blanket. You who came from a mafia family so it’s no wonder such a sweet looking doll ended up in prison for stealing valuable files.

Task Force 141, an elite squad who had no idea how to spend their hefty pay checks. The idea of a special woman in their lives was merely a figment of their imagination until Laswell threw your files down in front of him.

You were young, barely twenty-seven. The tattoo ink decorating your body with feminine designs was a harsh contrast to your background. And when you sneered at the camera, it gave a perfect view of your tongue piercing and gems adorning your teeth.

In short, you were the perfect little thing they could spoil.

“Reaper? Why do they call her that?”

“Because it’s the last name you learn before a bullet pierces your fucking skull. Once she steals your information, there’s no getting it back. And when she shares it with your enemies, you’re a deadman walking.”

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

naps to lovers?

price is an accident, you fall asleep watching a movie with him after he cradles you in his bed. plops down with you to do some paperwork and he's out, too. you wake up cuddled into his chest and pretend not to notice his boner.

next it's johnny. you're both exhausted from sparring and workouts. instead of showering, he pulls you to his bed and tells you to wait for him before you get in. by the time you want up, the sheets are crusted with sweat and soap is on top of you, crushing you to the mattress.

after that, it's both johnny and kyle. smooshed between them after a long hard mission, it's hard not to appreciate two nice pillows. simon has the picture of you three asleep on each other.

kyle finds you in the mess hall after, pulling you to your room with the promise of takeout and uninterrupted rest.

simon is standoffish at first, but eventually offers himself up as a weighted blanket for you after being reprimanded by another force's captain (don't worry, price and gaz are handling it). he lets you hold him close while stroking your hair and face until you drift off. he frequents in odd hours with you (when he knows your alone or stacked up with another one of the boys).

you don't mean for it to, but it becomes much more regular. price pulling you into his lap during late night briefings, soap's head in your lap, and kyle following you back to your room. they get so much more casually affectionate- hands on you at all times, forehead kisses, and sweet words. they begin to take you out together after missions and on off days to movies and shopping (they love dressing you up).

this all builds up to a random friday where they bring you to a house about 30 minutes from base. lately, they'd all been a bit more secretive and making investments "for the wellbeing of the team" like price's new truck that could seat 7. the house has all five of yours stuff in it (ash trays, half finished sketches, sewing kits, kyle's hat on the table). you see some of your missing clothes in one of the big dressers half-opened drawers.

it shouldn't be a surprise to you then when you walk in the bedroom and there's a california king. you really should have expected it, hen, they've been courting you for months!

yeah, johnny's naked on the bed, so what?

[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. 

[superhoeva]

ghost jerking off a leaking, squirming, teary-eyed soap from behind. he's been nearly there more times than he can count but simon won't budge. not after finding out johnny's the culprit behind your missing underwear. you'd been in a frantic search because you know you put them in the hamper for the wash.

imagine your surprise when you and gaz–such a sweet thing for helping you look–find them badly hidden under johnny's pillows. one stuttering soap and a talk with price later, here you are. smushed between kyle and the captain as they take turns fucking you drunk with hard cocks and sweet praises. johnny forced to appreciate your pretty sounds from afar while simon sits behind him, a snug grip around the younger man painfully-hard dick.

the poor guy is too horny and hazy-minded to ask if he gets to pump simon until he's purple... after all, he's the one that told the sergeant to swipe your garments.

don't judge. they just like the smell of you.

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚