#soap mactavish x gender neutral reader

[tomurderornottomurder]

extinguish; soap/johnny mactavish

pair. johnny "soap" mactavish x gn!reader

summ. a recollection of your yearning for johnny. meeting him, becoming friends, taking a bullet for him.

gen. angst

tw. suicidal ideation/thoughts, cod typical violence/themes, one sided crush, word vomit

wc. 3.5k+

note. furiosophie's fanart with the longing that's killing me quote inspired this. shoutout to ghoap for making me want to rip my skin off /pos 

Add a log to the fire of what you call want. You do it as you look over at him. It burns in your chest and he is not looking at you. He looks at you sometimes but not now. Johnny is looking over at Simon who is in turn looking back at him. You, like an animal in a cage on the other side of the room, can only watch. You're wrapping your hands up, getting ready to use your fists against the bag but you keep looking over. You're torturing yourself. You didn't know it at first; that this would not end up good for you. You just saw and you wanted and you followed him until he was gone and you were up against a brick wall with a broken nose from your blind devotion. It used to be better; more bearable. At least you thought it did.

Anyone who set their eyes on Johnny could have easily fallen in love. A large man with an even bigger smile and bright eyes to match and that accent that warms your bones. You can't even understand his words sometimes but it doesn't matter, you still want to hear them, all of them. Anything he has to say to you, you want to hear it again and again. You, new and fresh, are greeted graciously and heartily by him. You two get along like a building on fire. It doesn't take long for a friendship to form. It takes less as you grow closer. It's easy. It's full of love. You're happy. He's smiling. Johnny touches you a lot. It's his nature. He'll bring you into a hug, fistbump you, rest a hand on your shoulder, rest his chin and arms on your shoulder, kick your feet under the table and you'll kick back, take your hand to pull you up after a spar, brush you off his hands dusting ghosting everywhere, ruffle your hair, drag you off by your vest or your arm, tackle you only having protected you of course, hold you in his arms under heavy gunfire, pat your back after a mission well done, lean over and whisper tell you something stupid to make you laugh, pull you in by your gunbelt a quick means to get your attention, ghost his fingers over a particularly bad cut make sure it's okay you're okay, hold pressure onto a bullet wound try to stop the blood from flowing, hold and pat your face when the blood loss is too much, and he'll brush your hair out of your face when you wake up in a bed the next morning wrapped up and connected to machines in a blaring-white room that hurts your eyes until they settle upon him the dark contrast you need. But you're getting ahead of yourself now.

Johnny cares. He cares about you, his team, his mission. He's sweet and maybe naive sometimes, he's not dumb or innocent by any means. He just doesn't know what he does. What he does to someone like you. An easy persuasion; he's an easy sell. He's easy to look at, get along with. There's not exactly anything special he does for you, he's just this way to everyone. He likes to be loved; he likes to love. It's easy for him. It's not easy for you.

On certain days, you find that your chest hurts real bad like it's getting squeezed and swallowed whole by the vest you're wearing but taking it off doesn't ease the pain. What is this? You're not yet able to pinpoint the source of the pain. All you know is that it aches. You try to be cautious and observant. Through the next day, you notice a distinct lack of it until you see him. Your eyes land on Johnny and that squeezing, suffocating feeling comes back. It clicks. 

You don't know why you've always been prone to love so hard that it hurts but it makes it easy to know at least for yourself. You know this is ridiculous. You've known him maybe two months. You don't love him. You tell yourself this. And you don't love him. 

There are more important things than love when you're getting shot at. What is wrong with you that you have to look at him not to make sure he's okay but just to see him? You're an idiot and he tells you that in frustration when you nearly get grazed by a bullet just above your head. You're lucky he was there but if he wasn't the problem would have never arisen. You don't tell him this. He's your friend. He's your teammate. He's not your boyfriend. He's not your husband. He's not your lover. You are something to him more than nothing but not nearly enough. 

You get back to base with him nearly stuck to your side. You know he's angry and at you. You know that this was stupid. You just had to focus and you couldn't even do that. You get back to somewhere private, your room his room, you can't remember. He's scolding you like you're a child. He's not yelling outright but he's loud. You would adore this attention if it was for anything else. This one on one. His eyes on you, burning through you with something you can't decipher. How close he is to you. How he cares about you and if you'd die. 

A long moment and then, you tell him you were distracted. Not by what, you can't. You were distracted, that's all. It's simple. He seems to grow more infuriated by these words. Distracted? He spits venomously, his head tilting as if to understand you better. You could have died. You know that. Johnny takes you by your shoulders now. He talks and he tells you things, he pleads with you and he tries to understand. It's hard to know what to say when he doesn't have all the information. You just stand there like a ragdoll as he holds onto you and your shoulders and he shakes you a bit, not intentionally or maliciously just out of his own pure desperation to understand you in this moment, to know what the hell is going on. Why did you almost get shot in the head from a distraction? What could have possibly distracted you that much?

You won't give him any more information and maybe he understands. He sighs loudly, his grip on your shoulders faltering before he pulls away altogether. He brings you into a hug, grabbing your head and holding it in a way. You scared me. He says. I scared myself. You don't say. Sometimes you think back and you wish you could have taken that bullet. It would have been easier than all of this. All of what is to come. But still, this memory is fond and you hold on to it for dear life. How he held you like you were his own. How he cared if you died. 

Later that same night, when you're undressing to bandage an old but still-there wound, you see something. You look over to make sure you're not making this up. On your shoulder his fingers. Bruises starting to form on both your shoulders because he had held you so tight. You brush your fingers over them. Your breath hitches. It's like he's still there. He's holding you in his absence. He loves you in a way. His fingers are still on you. You can feel them. You close your eyes and you can see him in front of you. He's looking you in the eye, he's holding your shoulders, he's digging into your flesh in a comforting way. He loves you somehow. 

You don't ever mention it. You keep this one thing for yourself. You wanna savor it like a tongue in your mouth. 

You tried to let this go, let it wash away. The almost bullet tells you it won't. It takes time and maybe it's a month, you can't remember, you decide. You decide you can tell him. You decide to try. You can't remember if it's a month or a week or what it was. You only remember deciding.

Something becomes real when you see it. And you watch your chance at whatever this is diminish right in front of your eyes in real-time when Johnny walks over to Simon, his heavy hand resting on the larger man's shoulder. Not squeezing as he had yours. Resting. This is an important difference. It's not only that, no. But that does make you hesitate. This isn't a good time you think to yourself. Try again later.

Later. His eyes on his face; you could never do that. Simon is looking at Johnny like he's the light of the world and you know this to be true. Johnny looks back at Simon like he is another light of the world, possibly brighter. Your stomach churns. You feel sick. The urge to throw up churns in your belly and burns up your throat. It almost spills past your lips. Nothing spills but a tear maybe more than one past your eyes. What is this? WHY ARE YOU CRYING? 

You do more than squeeze, digging your nails into the flesh of your shoulder so that by some miracle you can feel Johnny's long distant fingers on your skin. It doesn't work. You watch the two for a little longer. Why are you torturing yourself? Is that your voice or Johnny's? 

John's got blood on his face, Simon sees this. Simon's got blood on his mask and you've got blood in your heart. This is the straw that breaks the camel's back.

Why can't he look at you like that?

Why can't he look at you like that?

Why can't he look at you like that?

Your ears are ringing when you leave with the two men. Why can't he look at you like that? You make no attempt to stray away from Simon or draw close to Johnny. Why can't he look at you like that? You sit in the carrier miserably. Why can't he look at you like that? Your eyes are on the floor. You try not to make a big deal out of it. You can't.

Now, you know why. 

Even later. It's late at night. It's dark, pitch black, there are no stars. You're outside on the ground. You're not crying yet just thinking. You know it's a bad idea. You think of the times you've seen them together. One night, Johnny comes out of the Lieutenant's room, everyone else laughing at the sight, not you. You manage a dry smile. That's it. There isn't even jealousy; just loss. The two sparring across from you while you spar with Gaz. Your eyes focused on something else, your ears unable to hear anything but the soft laughs, grunts, groans, and soon victorious noises coming from the Scotsman. Simon's quiet while Johnny makes all the noise. Gaz pins you to the mat and you don't even realize. Their conversations over comms make your ears bleed. Not because you want to be Simon, you want to be you and loved. You don't wish to take them away from each other, you just ache as you watch. You want to be you and seen.

There's something people should know about loving. That jealousy is not the end all be all. That you can let your love be loved. That destruction isn't necessary. You can suffer through it. You can let them not know, never know how much you love them because it's not necessary to tell them. You don't need to hurt them with the weight of knowing. That you have stared at them and seen them in worse ways and that you have chosen to continue and maybe it's not even a choice. It's an endless devotion you can't pull yourself away from. Because you could do whatever they asked and you would do whatever they want and you will be okay with it because they don't need to love you for you to love them. There is nothing saying that this must be mutual.

To know them is enough.

There are more moments. You see things all the time. You just push down the ache and continue on. You try not to watch them but sometimes you imagine yourself with him. In Simon's place maybe just for this fantasy so you can feel better about yourself. So in some place in the universe, he loves you. Even if it's fake, it feels good. It doesn't have to be real, it just has to feel good.

A sudden yet gradual distance is created between you and John. One day, he seems to notice it. He tries to touch you and without thinking, you move away. As if his hand were going to poison you, you avoid it like the plague. The disappointed look on his face does not escape you. John looks at you for a moment and even then, he doesn't look at you like he looks at him. You would laugh if you could manage it. Then he takes a seat next to you. He touches you again but this time you don't move. His hand is on your knee. Everything alright? He asks. It sounds lighthearted almost but it's serious, warm, worried, concerned. He's looking at you softly, his eyes are soft, his expression soft. He's waiting for you. 

You can't remember what happens next. All you know is that he doesn't know the truth. And that's fine. He shouldn't have to.

You make no effort to become closer. You do nothing. Ebbing and flowing how it may, you let it be.

Though you have given up in a sense, your heart still feels. It kills you really. It's like it wants to squeeze out its last drop of blood for him. It's like you'd slit your wrists for him and he wouldn't even have to ask. You'd already know to do it. 

You swear you didn't do this on purpose. You didn't mean it really. It just happened. Your body moved before your mind could process what was about to happen. You took a bullet for him because of course, you did. There was no thought behind it really. It just happened. You did not mean to save his life though you have always wanted to. This, and I stress, this was pure coincidence. An accident. Sure, you wanted to die for love but you didn't even think about this.

As soon as the shot rings out and you can feel the noise reverberating in your ears, you crumple to the ground. In front of him. This is not a nothing-shot. This is everything. This is internal bleeding and artery collapse. This is avoiding death by a miracle. This is not nothing.

You can barely feel his arms as they wrap around you, holding you like you're about to die. You don't even care anymore. You're cold and he's warm but you can't even feel it. It doesn't feel good to be held like this. You don't want to be held like this. You don't care if you die but it doesn't feel good to be dying. Not in his arms. You cannot die in his arms. This isn't what you want. 

John cradles you like a baby. He's holding you. You should be in heaven now but you can't even feel it. There is nothing worse than what you want. He's pulled you up onto himself now. Your head is propped up against his stomach. Your body is laid over his legs. He's holding your head the same way he did so, so long ago. You smile at that. You feel tears. You miss being held like you aren't about to die. You don't cry. You just close your eyes. You can feel his hands all over you. You wanted something like this, you remember, but this isn't it. This isn't what you wanted. This is some perversion of a thing you've never thought about. You did not want to die in his arms. 

He's holding you and holding you and you're starting to drift off somewhere else. He touches your face, tries to bring you back to himself. It works a few times. But like any old worn thing, it runs out of use. So, he holds you and continues to hold you. He thinks you might be dead but only for a fleeting millisecond. He can't think about that right now. You're not dead. You're in his arms, safe. You're with him. You're okay. You're in his arms so you're fine. He has you. He's holding onto you. You will be fine. He just has to get you out of here. He watches your eyes close for the last time and guilt shoots up his spine like a bullet. He'll get you out of here. He knows that.

You don't die. At least that one wish is granted to you. You don't die in his arms. Later you'd be grateful but now as you wake in a bright, white room you're only confused. You squint, trying not to take in all the light as it pierces your eyes. You hear something at your side, someone. Before you can turn to see, Johnny is on you like a hound. He's right up close and personal. Not too far away from your face. He takes up your whole view. You're glad for it. He's easy on the eyes. He's not harsh like this room around you. You feel him take your hand that you can't seem to move. Is it the drugs or the injury?

You could have died. Oh, doesn't that sound familiar? Johnny's not angry this time. He looks sad. What did you do to him? How could you do this to him? What's wrong with you? Guilt flows through your fingers like a shock of electricity. You still can't move your hands. 

I know. You croak. 

Why? He asks.

You don't know. You hadn't even thought about it. You just moved and you were in the right place. Johnny was safe. That's all that mattered really. What's the problem if you take the bullet for him? You weren't dead. You were far from dead. You were looking at him. He was looking at you. Isn't that all you could ask for? 

Then like bricks falling from the heavens, crashing against your ribs, and puncturing your lungs, you let it out. A sharp inhale before the sobs of a young man broken. Shaky breaths, tears, painful cries, a trembling body, shallow inhales, sputtering, lamented sobs all at once in succession. And because Johnny loves you in a way that you don't love him, he holds you. That's all he can do. He listens as you cry and whisper hoarse I'm sorry's. He strokes your hair. He holds you against him. He doesn't know why you're really crying and he's too naive to ever think about questioning it. He takes you at face value. He lets you do whatever you need as you're in his arms, alone in this hospital room, only your cries and his soft reassurances sounding out. You need this. He lets you have it.

Time goes on as it must. You get over yourself but not over Johnny. The pain in your abdomen never lets you forget. You don't think you'd even want to. What was the point then to have felt all that? 

You continue wrapping your hands and glancing Johnny's way as if he'd spare you the same look he dished out constantly to Simon. He loves you, he does. He loves you the way friends love each other, not how you love him. You're almost content with the idea. Not so much the practice. But you're not going to do anything. You're not going to hurt Simon or Johnny because you didn't know how to speak up sooner. It is your fault, after all. There is no one to blame but yourself for your actions or lack thereof. 

You finish wrapping your hands and stand up. Simon and Johnny's eyes land on you for a moment. Simon nods at you and you nod back and Johnny smiles -that same smile you can't get over, the smile that makes all new recruits weak in the knees, the smile that won him Simon (and you), the smile that you wish would only be yours when you got home- before pumping his fist in the air like his own seal of approval. He turns back toward Simon as you approach the punching bag. You grab it, hold it steady like you would if you could hold Johnny's hips. Then you let out your first punch and barrage after barrage after that. It's therapeutic in a way. You imagine it as yourself. You imagine dying before it got worse. You imagine dying in his arms. You imagine that you didn't get used to it.

Stoking the flames can only last so long. The fire might still burn in your chest but one day, one day it should extinguish. You just have to wait for it.

[sant-riley]

[Touchy feely] [tf141 headcanons]

(Romantic impied Task force 141 boys x gender neutral!reader headcanons :))

Summary: Being the sweetheart of the task force means the boys are not shy about the fact that they're all simps and always want some sort of contact with you at all times.

Consists of romantic/suggestive headcanons for each of the guys and little things they do with you <3

Words: about 1.5k (this was supposed to be short, whoops)

Warnings/Info: Can be read separately but it is intended that they all harbor feelings for you at the same time, possibly out of character for everyone, some swearing, the guys manhandle you, as always, let me know if I miss something!

Thinking about how each of the boys is so touchy with you, it doesn't matter where you are or who you're with, they're shameless.

Other units and teams who will sometimes share the base with 141 know better than to ask questions or directly say anything to one of the guys or you for that matter. Not that they could anyway, seeing as you always have at least one of them attached to your hip.

Price:

Anyone who walks into Price's office late at night to turn something in is used to seeing you next to the Captain on the little dingy loveseat he has in there.

John is usually smoking a cigar, taking care to not blow smoke your way while your head is resting on his shoulder. Your eyes closed as you hum at his words. It's terribly domestic for a military base.

John likes to gently play with your hair while he speaks about missions he's been on, always somehow trying to braid despite not knowing how to for jack shit, whether it because it's you or just the mindless motion, he's not willing to say.

John will usually walk you back to your room after dinner or time in his office unless he's swamped with work.

A small hand on the small of your back while he leads you. It's always a respectable touch, though he tucks you into his side, nodding at everyone you may pass.

If you're comfortable with it, he likes to press a kiss to your head, smiling that goofy ass smile, and tells you to get a good night's rest.

He lets you help him trim up his beard, he won't let you do all of it but he likes the closeness of it, him sitting down while you gently shape it up, tilting his head up and he tries his best to not stare directly at your chest.

The fact that he's letting you this close to his neck with a razor is a sign of trust, maybe small for others but for a man that doesn't drop his guard and doesn't truly trust others, it speaks volumes.

The first time he let you, you were barely putting any pressure and he grabbed your hand in his and showed you. "You're not gonna hurt me, put more force into it, yeah?"

Don't get me started on going out on walks in London with Price, he wraps you up in his beanie and some big leather jacket he has that dwarves you, helping you move through crowds by once again holding the small of your back, or taking your smaller hand in his. (He doesn't correct anyone if they mistake you as married)

He likes to kiss the back of your hand and laughs when it makes you blush and sputter out that his beard is scratchy.

Ghost:

Ghost is a subtle one, he won't actively reach for you or your hand but he does have some part of him against you most times.

Whether it be his leg, arm, or thigh, anything works. A normal place yall will be seen together is in the dining hall, you've both learned to ignore the stares from everyone else.

Simon never eats there, just sits with you until you're finished and then you both move on to either his quarters or somewhere else so he can peel his mask up to eat a bit.

However, while you're eating and telling him about anything under the sun, he'll lean over and wipe some crumbs off of your mouth with his thumb softly, which again, you're used to so okay whatever but Recruits always are taken aback in their seats.

Ghost's reflexes kick into overdrive with you. His hand going to cover a corner of a table 9/10 times before you completely wreck your shit, but when he does miss (sometimes on purpose).

He'll bring a hand up to rub at your head for you, chuckling under his breath before cooing down at you "That hurt pretty? Sure look like it did."

Whenever you two specifically are paired onto a mission, doesn't matter if any of the guys complain, he will share a cot/tent with you. He claims he runs the hottest (he doesn't, it's Johnny but he will not lose on this) and can keep your body the warmest.

He pretty much lugs you on top of him and wraps his arms around your waist, he'll press a hand against your head if you keep fidgeting, rasping at you to go to sleep. He takes great pride in the fact that you're usually out like a light very shortly.

I've said it once and I'll say it again, Ghost likes to hook a finger into your body straps and pull it really hard and let it smack you to get your attention if you're not actively paying attention to him, he'll soothe the area but he's smirking behind that fucking mask.

On that note, he definitely does the "You got something right here." And points at your chest and immediately pull up to flick your nose hard as fuck, he KNOWS his own strength but sometimes your eyes water and he immediately feels bad.

Ghost rests his head on your chest a lot, he finds your heartbeat to be soothing and reassuring, also grunts if you don't wrap your arms around him in return, bro literally shoves his head into you and groans

This is a grown man but it's cute so you let it slide bc he'll never ask for it outright, he just assumes you'll cradle his head.

Soap:

Johnny is the most shameless motherfucker here, I'm talking about draping himself over you, grabbing at your cheeks, ruffling your hair, kissing you dangerously close to your lips (it drives the others mad), he's the most unapologetic about it and will gloat to the others.

Manhandler #1, isn't above grabbing you by your hips and picking you up to move you somewhere, he's literally gone and grabbed you from some rookies side to come stand next to him with a smile and you're just so used to it that you just shrug and go along with it. (He gets slightly jealous, why would you stand next to some random ass dude and not him??)

Throws you over his shoulder, or likes you to cling to his front or his back and just carries you, he says it's a comfortable weight. If you ever dare say you're too heavy, he's gonna go to the gym and work out even more to PROVE to you that he simply doesn't care, he will carry you.

Extremely bad habit of sneaking into your room to fall asleep with you, Price has come into your room many times to see Soap sprawled on top of you, he's drooling and snoring and you're knocked the fuck out (he's like a glorified weighted blanket).

I've touched on this before but he only wants you to cut his hair for him, yeah he can go to the barber on base but he much prefers you and loves it when you scratch at his scalp. He also likes to just have his head in between your thighs but that's something else for another time-

Soap specifically slings you over his shoulder a lot, especially off base where he truly doesn't have any fucks to give.

You're not going to bed because you have other work?? Too bad, shoulder time you go. You're not willing to get up and make yourself food? Good thing he's here, either pick what you want from the kitchen or throw some clothes on bc he IS dragging you out of the house.

Johnny likes to draw on you a lot, it ranges from scribbles, to sometimes his name if he's feeling cheeky (he's drawn it on your thigh before and you didn't notice until Gaz shot you a look), to intricate drawings of whatever he can think whether it be a landscape or an animal.

He always holds you steady and it isn't uncommon for your limbs to fall asleep but it's worth it, if only to see him smile.

Gaz:

Gaz is probably the most secretly clingy person out of the four, he CAN function without your touch but does he PREFER to? No.

His first instinct in any situation is to grab you and shield you, he's the fastest of the four so his body moves without thinking and it's saved you more times than any of you would like to count.

The one mission where you both fell out of a moving truck, he tucked your body into his despite it costing him his shoulder popping out of the socket, you couldn't help but freak out while Ghost moved to pop it back into place.

"Why the fuck would you do that? Look at your arm!" "It's nothing." "Garrick what the fuck-"

When you're out anywhere off base, he's holding your hand, good luck trying to pull away bc he is not letting go. Too bad so sad, resign to your fate.

I think Gaz is definitely good at dancing, at least with you and when the right music is on, you cannot tell me this man wouldn't twirl you around and shit-fight me on it. He'll even lift you off your feet, laughing when you scramble to grab at his shoulders.

He goes stark still if you rest your head on his shoulder, not because he's nervous but because he's worried about waking you up when he knows you deserve a rest.

He'll usually wrap his arm around your shoulder to hold you in place so the heli ride doesn't jostle you so much, gentleness rubbing his knuckles along your arm to soothe you.

Gaz is the one who holds you when you have nightmares, on rare occasions when Soap isn't in your room and you just need to be held with no talking, you always without thinking find yourself in Kyle's room, his arms wrapped around your waist as he tucks your head under his chin, no questions asked.

He'll maybe hum a tune to help you relax but other than that, he lets you lead the way.

[stargirlrchive]

johnny’s favorite thing ever is when your fingers are wrapped around the base of his cock but you’re talking to him about the most random shit ever.

like you’re ranting and raving about a new plant you saw at your local market, but his sticky cum is coating your fingers as you jerk your hand up and down his pretty dick.

his eyebrows pinched in concentration as he tries to focus on your babbling but fuck your hand looks so pretty wrapped around him. swirling your palm against the tip before you’re back to jerking him off.

his hips are stuttering, fucking up into your fist and it’s like you don’t even fuckin’ notice that he’s about to cum. your hand gliding up and down his cock like second nature.

“it was just really pretty, would match well in my office but too damn expensive.”

and then your eyes are snapping down to his cock in your hand, as if you’re surprised with the hot sticky liquid now coating your fingers after he came.

“fuckin’ ‘ell, bonnie. you and your rambling.”

[ghostsforghosts]

The 141 boys with a partner who isn't what people expect. Because they love you regardless of how you are, damn what society thinks.

You're not conventionally attractive? Beauty is subjective and Soap is happily kissing each and every part of yourself that you are insecure about. He will tell you all of the ways you make him feral for you.

You're not skinny/not physically fit? Gaz loves the extra fat you have, loves to grip your love handles when you two are having sex. He loves your curves and how your body is unique to you.

You're not a woman (could be a man or nonbinary)? Price doesn't give a shit about what society says about him for dating someone who is not a woman. Love is love and he's still the same soldier he is at the end of the day, regardless of your gender.

You have a disability (physical or mental)? Ghost will gladly accommodate to your needs because he loves you for you, which includes whatever disability you have. He will shut down any thoughts of you being a burden on him, whether you say you are or if someone else says it.

Just... the 141 boys and them defending you from what society thinks.

Requests are open!

[paradisewithinpain]

my take on "the hero would sacrifice you to save the world but the villain would sacrifice the world to save you" & tf141....

DARK THEMES, PLEASE BE WARNED

we all know these men are soldiers through and through. they put their lives on the line for the good of the world and they do it no questions asked.

but when it comes to you?

fuck that

there is nothing, and i mean nothing, that will stop these boys from keeping you alive and happy.

JOHN PRICE knows the power he holds. he knows the respect and fear that ranks both above and below him have for him. he knows that and he's going to abuse it when it comes to you.

you come to base and someone's bothering you? they're answering to a pissed off captain who doesn't give two shits about the morality of his punishment. as long as his love is happy, he's happy.

and who cares if he sends that idiot of a soldier into a situation where he's sure there's a good chance he won't make it out? price claims it to be "good experience". no one but him needs to know that it's more of an execution than anything

SIMON RILEY is the guard dog you never thought you'd need but boy are you glad you have him. walking places is a mindless activity knowing you have a giant of a man watching every single moving thing that enters your presence.

he was a weapon of mass destruction when he wanted to he. and when you came home crying, telling him about the store clerk who yelled at you because you tried to them that they over charged you for an item, he knew that his brute strength was needed.

and who cares if the store clerk was found outside in the alley by the shop, their face bashed in over and over and over again until they were almost unrecognizable? that's one less employ the store had to pay

JOHNNY MACTAVISH is a dedicated lover and an even more dedicated demolitionist. he's constantly showing you his silly little notebooks that are detailed with fun chemical reactions and ways to make green fire using sugar and boric acid. it's always fun to keep you entertained and a smile on your face brings a smile to his

but when you come home from work and that smile is no where to be found, he's immediately inquiring why. when you tell him about your shitty boss and the horrible way you've been treated, he's immediately pulling out his notebook and distracting you with silly chemical reactions and even putting on a small show for you to cheer you up.

and who cares if a week later your boss was found dead in his apartment, some type of untracable lethal poison infused in his coffee? you had always liked the assistant director better anyway.

KYLE GARRICK was a sweetheart through and through. he sweet talked his way into your life and you're glad you let him. his affirmations were always what you needed and when you needed. the way he'd hold you in his arms and whisper all the incredible things he saw in you never failed to warm your heart. he was observant and smart, seeing right through you and everyone else around him.

so when you had to delete a few nasty messages on social media after kyle made a post about you, he was less than pleased. he took you and your happiness very seriously. he posted you because he wanted to. he loved showing you off and he wanted the world to see how happy you made him. a few anonymous profiles weren't going to change that.

so who cares if their names, jobs, profiles, browsing history, and text messages were all exposed? the nasty information was all kyle needed to know that those men would never see the light of day again

[d0youc0py]

Heyyy. This might b triggering so it’s okay if u don’t do it, but how would 141 + Konig react if reader was @ her friends house and got in the middle of an argument between friend + her bf and friends bf ended up hitting reader? (Kinda self indulgent 🫣)

“You always do this Simon!” You growled, shoving some clothes into an overnight bag.

“Do what?” He snapped back. He stood in the doorway, trying to slow his breathing. He was upset- more than upset, but he refused to loose his patience with you. “Just want to keep you safe kid.” He reminded.

“You’re trying to isolate me!” You shouted, making your way towards the bathroom. “Every time I try to do anything you always tell me it’s not safe- or that I shouldn’t trust this person. Newsflash Simon I have been able to survive on this earth without you.”

“I don’t like him.” He held strong. He wouldn’t compromise with you if he felt you were at risk. Your friend had invited you to spend the night at her house for a sleepover, and when you broke the news to Simon his first question was: ‘will that slag of hers be there?’ To be honest you hadn’t even thought about it. Why did it matter if he was there? You knew Simon trusted you but his constant distrust of other people was starting to wear on you.

“That doesn’t really matter Simon.” You sighed. You stood in front of him expectantly, waiting for him to move out of the frame. “Besides what evidence to you have against him?”

“He’s a strange man.” He responded.

“He’s not a stranger Simon. We’ve been on like three double dates with them.” You huffed, taking it upon yourself to push past him when he refused to move. He growled to himself, following you around the flat. Suddenly his hands gripped your hips pulling you back towards him. His neck bent down and you instinctually made room for his head by tilting yours to the side.

“Just stay home with me tonight, yeah?” The anger left your body at his soft words and the small kisses placed against your neck. “Or at least say you can’t spend the night. No reason for you to be away for that long.” You turned in his arms, placing a kiss against his chin.

“Simon I’ll be fine, yeah?” You murmured, causing another huff to escape him.

•••

That turned out to be a fat lie.

“Do you think Simon’s going to propose anytime soon?” She asked causing you to flush. “You two have been together for what, three, four years?”

“Just two.” You corrected politely. “I don’t know honestly, haven’t really thought about it much.”

“Such a lie.” She snickered, wiggling her brows at you. You rolled your eyes waving her off.

“Keep it down in there!” You both jumped at the sudden boom from the living room.

“Sorry Rick!” Your friend shouted, seemingly unbothered by his nasty tone. A pit formed in your stomach.

“He always talk to you like that?” You asked, keeping your voice down. She looked at you with a small smile.

“Just when I’m bothering him. Surely Simon snaps at you.” She explained. How could she not realize how out of touch her statement was.

“Not like that.” You said.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” You winced as Ricks voice rung out from behind you. How the hell were you suppose to get out of this one? “You comin into my house, filling my girls head with shite?” He snarled. You quickly stood up.

“No, course not.” You smiled, making your way towards the door.

“I’m good to her.” He huffed, following your footsteps. You nodded your head in agreement.

“I’m sure you are.” You offered a weak smile, peaking behind you to make sure you didn’t trip over any furniture. His arm darted out gripping yours, tugging you close to him.

“You’re sure?” He pressed. You were a quivering mess at this point. Fear and adrenaline being to much for your body to process.

“Rick!” Your friend yelled. He threw a harsh ‘shut up’ over his shoulder. Your mind raced trying to remember even just one technique Simon had showed you. You wished you had payed more attention, instead of just staring at his arms the whole time.

“You’re sure?” He growled again giving you a shake.

“Stop!” You shouted. It was met with a harsh smack to your face.

“I’ve got neighbors you little”- His words were cut off as Simon’s words finally rang through your head:

“When in doubt, aim for the balls or the throat.”

You decided the first one was the most viable option. It had caught him off guard enough to loosen his grip and it was all you needed, slamming the front door shut behind you. You had made it down the flight of stairs, your hands searching your pockets for your phone only to realize you had left it inside.

“Fuck.” You whimpered, trying to make heads or tails of where you were. You weren’t overly familiar with this area. But you were familiar with the fast approaching figure heading towards you. “Simon.” You gasped, hurdling yourself towards him. You didn’t know why he was here but you sure as shit weren’t complaining.

Even through your own shakes you could feel him tremble against you. You let out a sob as he tried to pull away from you.

“He touch you?” He growled, none of it’s malice towards you. Your cheek burned and you could only imagine the mark it had left.

“I want to go home.” You sputtered, burying your face in the safety of his shoulder. He swallowed down his anger to the best of his ability.

“Alright, sweetheart.” He murmured against your head. He carried you to the truck, buckling you up. He continued to let you cling to him until you had calmed, and the loudest thing between you two was his pounding heartbeat. “Tell me what happened, yeah?” He hummed, trying his hardest to fake some calmness.

“He grabbed my arm.” You whispered. His chest heaved. “And”- you cut yourself off. Taking a small breath you pulled away from him, his heated eyes quickly falling on the bruise already spreading over half your face. His face flushed, but he was able to hold in the burning of his body.

“Sweetheart.” He said slowly. He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Give me the apartment number.”

“1G.” You said, with surprisingly little hesitation. Whatever Simon was about to do, it was deserved.

When Simon came back he was shockingly clean, and shockingly poised. He tossed your overnight bag into the back seat and handed you your phone when he got into the drivers seat.

“Simon”- he cut you off by tangling both your hands with one of his, pulling out of the parking garage. You didn’t need to know. You didn’t need to know that he had broken down a door- and almost every bone in that man’s body. That he had been waiting outside the apartment building for the past three hours, stewing in his own protectiveness. Your friend wasn’t even mad. She didn’t bat an eye when Simon asked to use her bathroom to clean himself up a bit- not wanting that man’s blood anywhere near your precious body.

He brought your hands up pressing a kiss against your knuckles, pulling into the grocery store parking lot for a bag of frozen peas and ice cream.

He wasn’t suppose to be home yet. He had at least another week away- another week for your bruised face to heal. It had just began to look better, the harsh purple color fading to more of a greenish yellow color.

He opened the door, steadying himself for the only attack he actually enjoyed. Your pressing yourself as close to him as you could, tangling your limbs with any part of him, your lips suffocating any thought he had other than he was finally home with you. His stomach dropped when it never came, shutting to door behind him his bag thumping loud against the floor.

“Sweetheart?” His voice boomed, the worst running through his head. He reminded himself he wasn’t suppose to be home for another week and that you weren’t expecting him. Yet your car was in the driveway and there was still no sign of you.

“I’m here.” His shoulders relaxed, your voice melting his brain just right.

“Where are y”- he stopped himself. You were standing in front of him. The realization as to why you weren’t all over him right now crashing down on him harder than a bullet. You- his literal everything- adorned with a sickening brush on your cheek. The same cheek he would brush his beard against to make you laugh. The same cheek his fingers would stroke to self soothe when his brain was just too loud. The same cheek that would flush berry red when he mumbled certain things against you.

“I can explain.” You said quickly, allowing him to maneuver the two of you to the couch. You quickly found your designated spot on his lap, hoping your touch would cause the storm that was about to ensure lighten.

“I want a name.” His voice was calm. Too calm.

“It was an accident. Fell in the garden and hit myself on that big rock you keep telling me to look out for.”

He wasn’t buying it. His face stone cold, as his thumb traced over the healing brush gently.

“I’ll be good.” He assured. He couldn’t fathom why you wanted to protect this person. Must’ve been someone you knew. “Name, please.”

“John.” You whined, clawing at his shirt. He huffed and relaxed you against him, resting his cheek against the top of your head.

“You don’t want to tell me because you think I’ll overreact.” He couldn’t even blame you for that. The man would happily start a war over you. “I won’t touch ‘em, I promise.” He whispered. His hand rubbed up and down your back and you realized just how much you needed the comfort. His hand stopped at your neck, massaging the tense muscles. “Just need to know who hurt my love, hmm?”

“Promise you won’t hurt anyone?” You insisted using his chest to cover up a yawn. He hummed, nodding his head.

“Rick. Remember Kelsey’s boyfriend? I went over to her house and he showed up drunk yelling at her about some fight they had earlier. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut and before I knew it he hit me.” You explained. The normally comfortable body under you had turned ridged, his heartbeat drumming against your ear. “John?”

“That wasn’t so hard was it?” He chuckled slowly against your temple. “Did you”-

“Put a frozen steak on it? Yeah.”

“I’m sorry that happened darling.” He sighed. His large hands gripped your sides pulling you away from him just for a moment. “If something like that ever happens again you call me, understand?” His eyebrow rose to show his seriousness.

“Yes sir.” You swore a small smile on your lips.

He had kept his promise- he didn’t hurt anyone. But he couldn’t allow someone who hurt you live a comfortable life. It would go against his oath to you if he did.

And besides, someone has to make the enemy afraid of the dark.

He should’ve know better than to leave you alone. He thought that for just one moment while he went to the bathroom it would be safe. You had been tucked under his arm the whole evening, so everyone knew who you were there with. It was his fault for assuming his physique was enough to keep any unwanted advancements away. Time slowed as he came out of the bathroom, his trained eyes spotting you right where he had left you, except you were on the floor. Tears streaming down that perfect face of yours, your own hand cupping your cheek. He didn’t even need to see your best friend pulling at her boyfriends arm in shock- or the way his green eyes stared at his own hand like it had just appeared out of thin air to know what had happened.

Johnny was by your side in an instant, pulling your hazy body to its feet. He’d experienced this before on the field. Everything moving in slow motion- hyper focusing on the important things. Right now it was you.

“Mac.” You gasped, your fingers curling into his shirt sleeve. Like a shockwave he was pulled back into real time. The loud chatter of the bar. The smell of cigarettes and stale beer. The fear rolling off of you. It made his blood boil. He turned to look at Rick his mind going into autopilot. His hand shot out grabbing him by the shirt collar on flinging him backwards. The bar went dead silent the only sound was Ricks body slamming into the wall of liquor bottles behind the bar. Johnny took a few steps forward wanting to finish what he had just started. That wasn’t enough of a punishment. He wouldn’t be happy till he was unrecognizable. “Jo.” Your pleading voice snapped him out of it once more.

In that moment he realized how selfish he was. You were scared and needed assurance, not seeing your husband nearly kill someone. He wrapped a sturdy arm around you guiding you out of the disheveled bar. The cold felt good against your heated bodies.

“I don’t know what happened.” You sputtered, letting the Scot support your body weight. “Camilla was making a joke about how angry Rick gets when she folds his laundry wrong and I made a joke about how she still does his laundry and then he”-

You couldn’t even get through the story.

“Let me see.” Johnny hushed, gently removing your hand from your face. He leaned forward pressing a light kiss against the throbbing flesh. “How bad does it hurt?”

“Six out of ten.” You responded, nuzzling your way back into his strong chest. All you wanted was to be home in bed in the safety of his arms. The smell of pine tickled your brain enough for the tears to stop.

“Should go back there and”-

“No.” You huffed.

“That number is too damn high for me to let him off easy.”

“Easy? You threw the man across the room with one hand.” You reminded.

“Should make it so he only has one hand.”

“Johnny.” The use of his full name stopped the unintelligible Scottish rambling that was sure to ensue. “Can we go home please?”

“Hey sweetheart, need me to come pick you up?” Kyle spoke into the phone that was resting between his shoulder and his cheek. When you sniffled into the phone he didn’t even bother to pause his game, his fingers gripping the device in his hand.

“Ky.” You mumbled. You mumbled in that specific tone that cracked his heart in such a wince worthy way. “I need help.” His blood ran cold.

“Stay on the phone with me, yeah.” He demanded, shoving his feet into a pair of shoes. “What happened?” The sound of his car starting settled you a little bit. “You still at your friends house?”

“No, I’m down the street, by the library.” You sniffed. “He hit me, Ky.”

A sound let Kyles throat- a mix of a growl and a whine. His foot pressed even harder against the accelerator, running straight through a red light. His body was shaking, adrenaline heightening his senses. He wished the two of you didn’t live in such a big city with so much fucking traffic.

“Who’s he?” Kyle snarled.

“Jess’s boyfriend.” You emphasized. “They got into a stupid fight about which Pizza to order for lunch and all I did was fucking agree with her.”

He felt sick. He’d seen a lot of gruesome shit in his life, but the thought of someone hurting you took the cake. He could imagine how scared you were- how scared you are. He can see the tears welling up in your eyes and he imagined your heart rate was about the same as his right now. He can imagine you scrambling to find a way out of there- away from the danger.

“After this we’re practicing those damn self dense moves.” He gritted. You mumbled an ‘okay’ before seeing a familiar sleek, black car pull up next to you.

“How’d you get here so fast?” You questioned, hanging up the phone as he got out of the car.

“Let me see.” He insisted, pressing the back of his palm against your heated cheek. You winced, shying away. “Let’s go get you some ice.” He said mostly to himself. He rested a hand on the back of your neck guiding you to the passenger side.

He kept his hand in your lap the whole drive to the grocery store. “What pizza did he want?”

“Pepperoni with mushrooms.” You replied. The rest of the ride was silent, Kyle went into the store without you.

“Hold this against your face.” He pressed a bag of frozen peas to your cheek. He unwrapped your favorite candy bar, placing it in your lap. Even with your swollen face you couldn’t stop a smile. “I need to make a quick stop before we go home.” His eyes flickered over to you, the same flash of anger striking through him as he took your appearance in. You didn’t think anything of it till he turned down your friends street.

“Kyle.” You mumbled. The last thing you wanted to do was be back here.

“I know baby, I know.” He tried his best to soothe, but he was so riled up. He needed to get this out of his system. Besides he couldn’t just let people hurt you and get away with it. “Stay here, I’ll only be a second.” He closed the door behind him, grabbing a frozen pizza that you didn’t even know he got out of the backseat. You watched anxiously as he made his way up the driveway ringing the doorbell.

The door opened to reveal Rick and Kyle wasted absolutely no time shoving the frozen pizza in his face. The strength of it sent Rick flying backwards and Kyle took the upmost pleasure in the loud crack of his nose breaking.

“Traffic is bad mein Herz. I’m going to be a little late.” You huffed at his words.

“Drive safe I’ll see you soon.”

“He running late?” Your friend questioned as you made your way back into the kitchen.

“Yeah, should be here soon though.” She smiled, taking dinner out of the oven. “Help me set up?” She asked over her shoulder, making her way to the dinning room. You began grabbing the silverware out of the drawer.

“No, Konig?” Rick asked, sitting down at the kitchen island. You shook your head.

“He’ll be here soon.” You assured.

“That’s too bad.” His hand landing on your hip followed his slimy words.

“What are you doing?” You spat, backing away. He shushed you.

“Keep you’re voice down. Don’t want her to find us out, yeah?” He said, nodding his head towards the dinning room.

“There is nothing to find out!” You must’ve said it too loud, because Ricks hand flung forward connecting with your cheek. You dropped the spoons in your hand, then clattering loudly on the floor. You didn’t even have time to feel scared, catching sight of the colossal figure in the doorway.

Rick followed your gaze and it was almost laugh worthy at how quickly he lost all confidence.

“Schatz?” Konig held out his car keys to you. “Wait in the car, please.”

Gentle blue eyes watched you, almost chuckling at the way you skipped over to him. Konig reveled in the way you trusted him. Trusted him to take care of you- to protect you. Later he would wrap you up in his arms and hold a bag of ice to your face, but right now he had other things to deal with.

“And turn the music up. It might get loud in here.”

[libingan]

—how the TF141 kiss you.

something short n sweet cuz im still in thr middle of prelims lmao lnao lmao im dying here please help

anyway, plz enjoy this cuz im abt to pass out right after i post this

i hope u guys miss my shit 😭

JOHN PRICE

price’s kisses are slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second with you. he takes his time, his hands always gentle as they cradle your face, the roughness of his palms contrasting with the tenderness of his touch. when his lips meet yours, there’s no rush, no sense of urgency. it’s a kiss that makes you feel safe, cherished, like he’s grounding himself in the connection between you. his lips are warm, moving slowly and firmly against yours, taking his time as though he’s pouring all his love into that moment. when he pulls away, it’s gradual, his thumb still stroking your cheek softly. he looks at you with those steady, reassuring eyes, as if to say everything is going to be alright. he doesn’t need to say anything—the kiss was his way of telling you everything he feels.

KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK

gaz’s kisses are lighthearted and full of affection, like he’s always enjoying the moment with you. he has a way of teasing you just before he kisses you, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leans in with a grin. but once his lips touch yours, all that playfulness melts into something softer, sweeter. he starts with a light brush of his lips, almost testing the waters, before pressing a little deeper. his kisses are never too rough, always gentle and warm, as though he’s silently telling you how much he adores you. his hands will find your waist or your back, pulling you just a little closer, but never overwhelming. he makes sure the kiss is always a mutual exchange of affection, full of warmth and joy. when he pulls away, there’s always a smile lingering on his lips, a playful twinkle in his eyes, and maybe even a soft laugh as if he’s savoring the way you look afterward, all flustered and smiling.

JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

soap’s kisses are passionate and full of life, the kind that leaves you breathless. he doesn’t hesitate when he wants to kiss you—his hands are always quick to find their way to your waist, pulling you close with a kind of urgency, like he’s been waiting all day just for this. his lips crash against yours with a hunger that takes your breath away, but even in that intensity, there’s still a layer of care in the way he holds you, making sure you’re comfortable. he kisses like he’s pouring every bit of emotion he has into that one act, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that leaves you wanting more. he likes to deepen the kiss, tilting his head to get the perfect angle, his hand cupping your face with a firm yet tender grip. when he pulls back, it’s only for a second before he dives back in, like he can’t get enough of you. after a few heated moments, he finally pulls away, breathless but grinning, his blue eyes sparkling with affection, his thumb brushing over your lips as he gazes at you with a look that says you’re everything to him.

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

ghost’s kisses are rare, but when they happen, they’re full of quiet intensity. there’s a kind of vulnerability in the way he kisses you, like he’s letting down his guard just for you. he’s never rushed—his movements are slow, deliberate, as if he’s taking his time to memorize the feel of your lips against his. his hands are gentle, one resting on your hip, the other brushing against the side of your neck. his lips are firm but not forceful, and when he kisses you, there’s a depth of emotion behind it, something he rarely shows in words. he kisses like he’s saying everything he can’t speak out loud, each movement of his lips deliberate, almost reverent. when he pulls back, it’s without fanfare—no lingering touches, no dramatic gestures. he simply pulls away slowly, his eyes lingering on yours, as if making sure you understand everything that kiss meant. he doesn’t speak much, but in the silence after the kiss, you know that he’s let you into a part of himself that no one else sees.

[deathc-re]

men who like to fuck you so stupid, in the most mind numbing positions, for as long as possible, so that when he's done, he can cum into you and just watch it dribble from your hole as you huff puff on the bed. so spent that you can't even squirm at the uncomfortable feeling. the sight alone is enough to make him hard again but he takes pity on you, seeing how you're already half asleep, body twitching every now and then.

kirishima, dabi, bakugo, gojo, toji, ghost, soap, inosuke, tengen, sanemi, gyomei, jean, erwin, armin and etc etc

[obsessivelullabies]

tf141 fighting over you.

imagine you’re a combat medic, highly skilled and capable. you joined the army to help people. you wanted to make a difference, so you spent all your time trying to sharpen your skills.

after a few years of hard work, you were offered to join a new task force. task force 141, created by captain john price.

you knew this was the right career move for you. you knew you’d help people.

the first man you met was the captain himself, john price. he was gruff and serious, yet you could tell he was a good man. he wouldn’t say it, but john held you in high regards already. he admired your loyalty and dedication.

the second man you met was kyle ‘gaz’ garrick. your first mission was with him and price. gaz was immediately drawn to you and your nature, striking up conversation with you, asking about yourself and what you liked. you two became fast friends.

gaz was close to your age, so you felt comfortable around him. he was also very trustworthy, which made you relieved.

gaz fell for you first after a few weeks, he adored your personality and how gorgeous he found you, even if you were wearing your dirtied uniform. he wrote it off as a dumb little crush.

not long after, you met two men. first, johnny ‘soap’ mactavish. he was funny, flashy and confident. he’d immediately come off as flirtatious towards you, probably using some stupid pickup line.

second was simon ‘ghost’ riley. he had little to no interest in you at first. he knew you were a good worker, which he appreciated, but nothing more.

over the span of months, you and the men in your task force grew closer. you accomplished quite a lot. they’d all saved your ass multiple times.

price would start to fall for you seeing you take care of injured soldiers so kindly, even if you didn’t know them at all. he also loved your loyalty. you always tried to save someone, even if it was a dumb decision.

for soap, the flirty jokes were a joke until they weren’t. he thought you were so gorgeous and funny. you never got annoyed with him or wanted him to leave. you enjoyed his presence. the flirtation becomes more personal, more serious.

ghost definitely fell for you last. after a particularly rough mission, as you stitched up his arm and tried to comfort him, ghost felt something he hadn’t felt in years. being around you made him feel alive again.

at some point, the men all picked up on each other’s adoration for you. price would always try to help you and guide you, his way of showing his affection.

gaz would always be so thoughtful of your needs, like buying you a drink if you said you were thirsty. small gestures.

soap would openly flirt with you and touch you innocently, vying for any affection or flirting back.

ghost didn’t have a lot of experience with romancing someone. he honestly just stayed close to you and watched your back.

all the men became more and more forward. they needed you to choose someone, they couldn’t let this issue divide them.

if only you got the hint.

does anyone want like a part two.. with like graves.. or laswell.. or alejandro.. ik they’re not tf141 but they do work with them.

masterlist! | unedited. | comments and reblogs appreciated! | make a request.

[skyrigel]

Clingy!Simon Riley who's having a heart bloom when he see's you with Cherry in the dog adoption centre.

Clingy! Simon Riley who loves to see you play with Cherry in park and obviously gets a baby fever when he saw you with little kids.

Clingy! Simon Riley who get's only a little jealous when he can't sleep in your lap when Cherry is already claiming it.

Clingy! Simon Riley who stiffles a whine when you are not home, walking Cherry out while he so wants to kiss you, feel you and love you.

Clingy! Simon Riley who hates the worry that crosses your eyes when Cherry gets sick, hates how the skin under eyes turns bruising purple with the lack of sleep as you both sit there, cradling your little baby Cherry.

Clingy! Simon Riley who can't fuck you on the kitchen counter when Cherry is wiggling it's tail, wanting more in the clean licked bowl.

Clingy! Simon Riley who's so desperate and jealous that he has to call Soap in the middle of the night, begging him to steal Cherry.

Clingy! Simon Riley who changes his mind as he loves how soft and angelic you look with the furry little attention seeker beast snuggled to you, his family, his home, much dismay to a annoyed Soap who's bristling outside your apartment.

Clingy! Simon Riley who joins you and Cherry in bed, wrapping his arms around your waist as he kisses your forehead and then Cherry's.

Clingy! Simon Riley who chuckles softly when you nuzzle closer to him, whispering a sleepy 'I love you'

Clingy! Simon Riley who takes out Cherry for a walk when you were tired, melting when Cherry runs to lick your face as little beasty spots you on the doorstep, " We both love mama, don't we Cherry ? " He smiles, kissing your nose tip as Cherry wiggled and circled around mama and dada.

Masterlist

For my fiance @herdarkangel

[mimisplayground]

PLEASE GIVE US THAT HEAVY HANDED SOAP FIC I AM BEGGING RN

٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶ sorry for the wait hehe :3 sorry its not much!! ive got all kinda of summer classes that are killing me :( release me from ur clutches college pls

————

You love your boyfriend. He holds your hand in public and kisses apologies onto the back of it when you tell him hes gripping too tight.

He lifts you off the ground like you weigh nothing, because god is he the worst gym rat you’ve ever known. With a slight musk of sweat to him often from his workouts that often lead to him winding down by pounding into you. He’s so nice to you.

He just has a habit of grabbing you a bit too rough when he gets excited. Hands tangling in your hair if they can, hands wrapping around your waist and hips in a bruising grip.

He pounds into you hard, one hand firmly keeping your face shoved onto the pillow under you. He stares at the fingerprint bruises he sees all over your body. His marks, from your calves to your throat, everyone can tell that Johnny got his hands on you. When he’s so gentle with his hands at work, demolishes requires a light touch at times, its no surprise you’re his stress ball.

His free hand raining down on your ass and thighs, listening to your grunts and pleas.

“God, bird… yer killin’ me…” he grunts while you pant. Whining as he fucks you through another orgasm, keening at the feeling of his hand roaming. “Johnny…” was all you could manage to gasp out through your peak.

The scots final thrusts are harsh and quick. Snapping in before both hands find home on your hips after he wraps his arms around you. Kissing your ear and biting at your neck as he cums.

God, he’s just such a brute.

[brainrotandbedrot]

okay. im a perfume nerd and i just can’t get this out of my head and these are all my own little brainworms so 🤪

perfume scents that every man in the 141 loves.

price is a classy man. but i also think he isn’t a huge fan of anything strong — he likes how you smell naturally. anything light, airy, a little floral but not like grandma rose perfume floral. price is the type of guy i see having fresh laundry scented candles in his house and a “fresh and clean” air freshener for his car. this man is tired and approaching middle age and he just wants his shit to smell good. including you. i hc something along the lines of maison margiela replica’s lazy sunday morning edt, glossier’s you edp, dedcool’s fragrance 03 blonde edp. for something more recognizable, gingham and sweet pea from bath & body works.

i feel like he’d also like chanel no. 5 just because of the name. his mum wore it. it’s sentimental for him.

notes: crisp fruits (pear, apple), light floral (jasmine, rose, lily of the valley, lilac), light musk, milk

gaz loves when you smell like a cashmere sweater. warm, sweet, but soft and homey. he wants to come home and just sit there and sniff you because you smell like a warm hug after a long day (it makes sense in my head okay). he’s the type to come along to sephora and ulta and hold the bottle while you spray the testers and he’ll tell you if something smells good (everything smells good, he likes seeing you smile & he’s paying anyway). philosophy’s fresh cream edp, ariana grande’s cloud intense edp, byredo’s slow dance edp, and skylar’s fall cashmere edp are all scents i think he’d love. i also feel like ivory cashmere from bath & body works is a given.

notes: almond, warm vanilla, berries (juniper, cranberry), cinnamon bark, sandalwood, light musk

johnny. johnny is a man of taste, okay? this man loves a unisex fragrance. (they all do. but like. johnny truly just loves a scent that is just a scent. no feminine or masculine packaging.) literally anything that smells good has his paws all over you. i feel like he’s a woody, earthy scents kind of guy. just smell like a forest and he’s head over heels. like le labo’s santal 33 edp, tom ford’s oud minerale edp, zodica perfumery’s eau de dallas edp, dossier’s ambery saffron and woody oakmoss edp. mahogany teakwood & into the stars from b&bw will also get this man’s heart rate wild.

notes: bergamot, oud, amber, musk, sandalwood, cedarwood, spices (cardamom, ginger), fir balsam

simon is a gourmand man. change my mind (you can’t). this man will get a whiff and have to stop himself from nibbling on you like a cat. or he doesn’t. you just smell too good, love. i don’t think he has a specific preference in terms of general scent, but anything that smells yummy has him drooling. sweet, warm, similar to gaz but more in the food direction than the cozy warm direction. i think le monde gourmand’s crème vanille edp, kayali’s yum pistachio gelato intense edp, billie eilish’s eilish 1.0 edp, sol de janiero’s brazilian crush cheirosa '71 fragrance mist. sweet whiskey and viva vanilla from b&bw are also delicious to layer with.

notes: gourmand (warm vanilla, brown sugar, marshmallow, caramel), amber (and ambery musk), florals (jasmine, orange blossom), nutty (almond, hazelnut, pistachio)

sorry simon’s scent notes are so long gourmand fragrances just have so many and they all smell good

[imaginesheaven]

Funny moment with TF 141

*on the way to the mission in the car*

(Y/N): *turns on music*

(Y/N): *sings* Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want

Gaz: *joins you* So tell me what you want, what you really, really want

(Y/N): I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig ah

Soap, Gaz & (Y/N): If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends

Ghost: *sits between singing Gaz and Soap* …

Soap, Gaz & (Y/N): Make it last forever, friendship never ends

Ghost: … I really want to get out …

Price: *drives* Sorry, buddy, (Y/N) won the bet.

Ghost: …

Soap, Gaz & (Y/N): If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give! Taking is too easy, but that's the way it is!

Ghost: … *tries not to cry*

[karlachismylife]

giving you a cartoonishly big fat kiss on the forehead to make you feel better-

thats my WIFE (gender neutral) your brain is bad talking!!! tell it to square the 🦆 up 🤺🤺🤺

*turns into the forehead kiss meme* Thank you baby 🥺🥺🥺 that definitely fixed my brainwaves a bit. But please don't beat my brain up, it doesn't have that many cells, that's an unfair fight...

Here are forehead kisses headcanons with task force 141:

Price is the king of forehead kisses. Yeah, his beard does sometimes tickle or even prickle, but honestly - nothing matters when he puts his heavy palm on your scruff, rubbing and squeezing a bit roughly, then pulls you closer to rest his forehead against yours, and after several moments of the most intimate closeness a person can achieve, lets out a deep sigh and shifts to press his lips to the spot he just was leaning against. You could be bleeding out to death, but that still would bring you immense inner peace and calm. And he does it casually, too - as a good morning kiss, a goodbye, as a thank you for the cup of tea you bring him when he's busy, when he just thinks you look cute... it's paternal, and not just in a dad-coded way. It's a leader promising care for those who follow him.

Gaz leaves the warmest, lingering, molten kisses. It's the softest feeling ever, there's literally a wave of sunlight and warmth washing over you starting from the spot where his full lips are touching your forehead. It's a quintessence of tenderness, filled with the ultimate romance - if there's always something a bit playful in the reverence he kisses your hands with, his forehead kisses are just pure love and adoration. His eyes stay closed for a few moments after he pulls away, too, like he's enjoying this even more than you, and he often follows up with a temple kiss or soft peck on the bridge of your nose. His soft breath always makes your skin heat up and wakes up the butterflies in your stomach.

Ghost is a grumpy forehead kisser. It's often a result of him sulking or brooding about some minute disagreement or you refusing to stay in bed with him forever when he wants cuddles and you want not to be fired for missing work. He can't break the act that's supposed to tug on your heartstrings, but he still wants to kiss you - that's how you get these reluctant, short, gruff pecks that feel almost like a bird pecking at some grain. In some time you learn to catch that little smile he actually has when he kisses you on the forehead, thinking you won't notice, but confronting him about it is useless - he's too good at pretending he's nothing but a big grump. Too bad that he never expects a return forehead kiss. Or that you know he often does it while you're asleep (or he thinks you are) and he is restless.

Soap is the CEO of cartoonishly big fat forehead kisses. He makes a point out of grabbing your cheeks, squishing them and pulling you up close to give you the loudest, silliest, messiest SMOOCH. Usually as a distraction tactic while you're scolding him - and as you're fighting the stupid smile this goofy kiss elicits, he's already kissing you on the lips. Sly bastard. It's almost as if he just can't do it normally, even when it's not a bomb-diffusing tactic (with you being the bomb), but a rather sweet cuddling sesh, he still makes a loud smooching noise and gives a theatric satisfied sigh afterwards. You'll just have to get used to this silliness. Doesn't mean you shouldn't whoop his ass if he accidentally leaves a real fucking hickey right in the middle of your forehead. Idiot.

[tbag-hq]

Two words, poly!141 x surrogate!reader and make it angsty🙏, ik its more then two words but bare with me here.

BUT surrogate!reader hates kids, can’t stand them and is only doing this cause you needs money.

As for the boys they’re freshly retired after a long time of working, they’ve been in some sort of weird situation ship for years(it’s definitely not a healthy one either.) But they wanna make it work and turn it into something more then just casual sex, and what better way then to have a BABY.

Unfortunately for you though they don’t actually want a kid, they just like the idea of one so you know hopefully you won’t stick around to see how shitty they take care of this kid or worse maternal instincts kick in😦

Maybe they try to make you stay just a little while longer under the guides of “Not wanting to pay for artificial milk when we can get it straight from the source” but in reality they just wanna pin all the hard labor onto you while they get the fun stuff.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk

[kismetarchive]

Johnny was a naturally chaotic man and you loved him for the ruckus he could create — but you also loved the private moments with him

cw: john "soap" mactavish x gn!reader

Johnny was notorious for his chaos. He was unapologetically noisy and the embodiment of a rowdy Scotsman’s.

You knew what you were getting into when you fell for his boyish charm: His accented voice that had you hooked, his toned body that embraced you so lovingly, his toothy smile that made your heart throb — he was perfect. Perfectly yours.

You expected that your relationship with johnny would be private; previous exes didn't really show you off so why would Johnny be different?

Oh, how wrong you were. He talked about you constantly. You were his heart and he bared his chest out to everyone.

"Guess wha'? My sweet bonnie got a promotion yesterday!"

"The missus made me cinnamon rolls yesterday!"

"My darlin' knitted me these socks!"

Everyday you would get a message from his mates, complaining how he wouldn't shut up about you. You'd giggle each time seeing their annoyed messages, your heart swelling hearing him proudly speak of your accomplishments and how much he adored you.

"Johnny, your mates texted me today about how you kept chattering on about me. Keep it to a minimum, could you love?" You'd scold Johnny lightly, but fold immediately seeing his bottom lip protrude to form a pout and whine how he just wanted to talk about his darling. How could you say no to that while his arms are wrapped around your figure and peppering kisses all over your face?

Despite his need to be a chatterbox and fill the room with whatever his mind was thinking, you also appreciated the quiet moments with him.

Whenever he came back from a draining mission and all he wanted was to lay his head down on your pillowy thighs and listen to the soft hum of your voice as your fingers threaded through his hair — you could never decline. Having him breathing softly on your lap and eyes fluttered shut, away from war and in the arms of his beloved.

But your favorite is when he asks you to come with him on a walk. His hand intertwined with yours, thumb brushing against your knuckle, the setting sun casting a golden hue on Johnny that had you bewitched — he never looked so perfect.

He'd catch the way your eyes twinkled as you stared at him, a chuckle falling from his lips.

"Somethin' caught your eye darlin'?"

"Yea—" Your voice barely above a murmur, breath hitched when he took a step closer. His gentle smile made your chest tingle in warmth, calloused hands rubbing against the apple of your cheeks as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss — slow and steady so he could savor the feeling of your lips against his.

You both reluctantly pulled away, limbs still pressed against each other and chests heaving as his lips pressed lazily against your flushed face.

"I'm the luckiest man in the world to have you, bonnie."

Oh, how you loved that he adored you so loudly and gently at the same time.

「 Masterlist ❤︎ 」