#task force x reader

[amaranthinespirit]

t141 + könig and their reaction to sleeping on the couch after an argument

—price when you banish him to the couch, he could be one of two ways—mature and forces you to talk it out nicely or toxic, flat out refuses, and fucks you back to your senses. the first way, when the words spill from your mouth, his shoulders slumped with dejection as he steps from the room. no point in arguing when you're worked up. after stewing in your anger for thirty or so minutes, he returns—armed with food—and talks it out with you. the other way, he flat out refuses to sleep on the couch. i could see him manipulating you with the "I paid for that bed, and I'll sleep in it." you're stubborn, muttering something about you sleeping on the couch then, which is how you end up getting your brains fucked out.

—soap I imagine soap just pushed your buttons way too much that day. you know how he is sometimes—over the top, hyper, and an all-around instigator. he was looking for a reaction, and he found it—just not the one he wanted. immediately pouts, acting like a dejected child before he goes on to try and convince you to change your mind. real annoying about it too, doesn't give up until you're at your breaking point.

—kyle the only one that I see actually accept his banishment with stride. he knows he made you upset, respects the boundary you placed with him and doesn't take it to heart. there's also a big possibility that, by the end of the night, you end up talking it out anyways like mature adults. he knows you needed to get it out of your system, and you serving punishment to him did just that.

—simon the second the words leave your mouth, he shuts down. you see the moment he deflates, doesn't try to reconcile, and just accepts it. he doesn't want to upset you further or make you more mad than you already are. simon doesn't respond well to domestic conflict. the second his back hits the cushions? he's tossing and turning. he barely fits the couch to begin with, and you both learn you need each other to sleep—bonded like a pair of cats.

—könig he's not fitting on the couch, and that's what makes it more satisfying. maybe he was being too persistent about his horniness, hands wandering too far until you snapped and threw your finger to the couch you know he can't fit. he whines about it for sure, trying to whip you with puppy eyes and convince you to change your mind. he apologizes until you're sick of hearing it, allowing him back in bed just to get him to shut up.

[stillinnav]

i wanna be apart of their program

[stargirlstabber]

innocence in chains

innocence never stood a chance against their doubt...

part one two

imagine the task force 141 falsely accusing you of being a traitor to the team.

knowing your biggest fear, they use it against you.

water.

water, where your feet can't touch the ground.

water you can't see through.

at first it started with waterboarding. then slowly but surely they threatened to drop you into the pool. into the dark, deep pool.

even john, who was like a father to you before, didn't help you. no. not at all. actually, he was the one who stepped into the water fully clothed, dragging your crying and squirming form with him into the bloodcurling liquid.

your tears blended in with it while you we're screaming, practically begging that you were the wrong one. that you'd never do something like that. but they just stood at the edge of the pool, watching their captain almost drowning your terrified self.

how would they react, when they get the information that you really weren't the one...?

[itsoutrageouss]

It’s the first time Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley sees you cry that something in him changes profoundly. You had always had your different skill sets out on the field, it was what made you such a powerful duo for the task force. You were sly, agile, a killer in the dark and he was a brute show of force and strength, able to kill with his bare hands. You argued a lot, though. Your differences that made you work so well also made you clash time and time again. He found you annoying. You found him arrogant.

But after a mission, Ghost finds you collapsed on the floor in an empty building— Crying. He’d never seen you do that before, but he knew you were a softer more sensitive soul, you were just good at hiding it.

He was moving before he realised it, crouching down in front of you, eyes narrowed as he tried to find your gaze that was lost in a heap of warm tears. His hands got clammy and his throat dry because how could he make it stop? It was like the sight had reached in and seized a part of him long gone, maybe one he’d never found before now.

“Stop crying.” He said foolishly, but his tone had lost its usual edge, and the very rare lilt of pleading had laced into his voice. Why did he suddenly grab your shoulders and press your trembling body into his? He had no clue but he wanted to shield you from whatever had made you look so vulnerable before him.

A part of him didn’t like seeing this, didn’t recognise the garbled sound of soft sobs, the way your body’s strength seemed to evaporate into a fragile, soft one that he wanted to pick up and put back together. Another part of him was sucking in this moment, afraid it would get lost and maybe feeling a bit guilty about it. But this feeling of… was it protection? Protection, yes. He’d never had it like this before. Usually, protecting means killing and hurting. Right now it meant nurturing as your small hands reached around his neck and you curled into him. He reacted immediately, sitting down and scooping you into his lap.

He closed his eyes, his chin resting on your head with a sigh. He had no idea what came next. This had to change your dynamic in some way because he couldn’t ever look at you the same. He saw your softness and maybe he fell in love with it right there, and wanted to be the one you showed it to. Only him.

“Im sorry” You whispered into his chest. His hands flexed around you, fighting the urge to smother you even more against him.

“Dont say that. Just keep holding onto me.” His voice was more hoarse than usual as his fingers unconsciously combed through your hair.

Whatever had happened, he was sure you felt it too, or you would’ve never let him this close. And he wished for everything you would let him again one day.

series masterlist

[babyybrii]

❦ task force 141 when they receive teardrop stained letters from their lover ❧

summary: how the boys react when they see your dried up tears littering the letters you send from oceans away

warnings: lowkey just sad, they’re all obsessed and heartbroken. very fluffy

simon “ghost” riley

he notices immediately, brushes his fingers over the wrinkled paper. feels his heart break and swell all at once. he misses you terribly, and it’s killing him that you miss him enough to cry about it but—he’s never felt this loved before. he can’t help but imagine you back at home, curled into one of his hoodies on your shared bed, shedding tears for him. he’s never deemed himself worth much, let alone your pretty tears. he uses the letter as motivation to make it back home to you.

johnny “soap” mactavish

he stares at the smudged ink for a long time before he even reads the words. runs his thumb over one of the water-stained spots like he can feel the exact tear that made it. “oh, sweetheart…” he murmurs, swallowing thickly. he jokes a lot, flirts like it’s a reflex, but this—this makes him ache in the chest. you cried missing him. the idea alone nearly unravels him. he kisses the corner of the letter before folding it back up and hiding it in the inner lining of his vest, close to his heart.

kyle “gaz” garrick

his chest tightens the second he realizes what those faint stains are. you’d been crying. for him. he bites down on the inside of his cheek, blinking hard, reading every word like it’s your last. he hates that you’re hurting, but gods, he loves how open you are with him—how honest, how soft. it means the world. that letter doesn’t leave his side for days. he traces the lines of your writing with a gloved finger when he can’t sleep. sheds a few of his own tears next to yours. he writes back that night, asking you to keep writing, even if you cry. especially if you cry.

captain john price

his hands still when he sees the tear marks. jaw clenched, eyes sharp. the mission’s not over, but he’s already thinking about you. thinking about getting back to you. he reads the letter in private, sitting on the edge of his bunk, elbows on his knees, your words and those little stains etched into his memory. he doesn’t cry—but it’s close. his reply is shorter than usual, more clipped, but there’s a weight to it. “you keep those tears for joy, love. i’m coming home soon.”

[metallictastinglifesupportliquid]

Ghost, unbuttoning shirt: God, it's hot in here Y/N: Yes but why are you unbuttoning my shirt?

[kkusuka]

i want captain john price to fuck me so well that the entire med-bay can feel it. thinking about patching him up then getting my guts rearranged as a thank you.

you aren’t even a soldier- just a medic who happened to be around when 141 needed help. patching up their captain was more than nerve wrecking- his lieutenant and two sergeants looming over you asking about his status. but john could care less about his team at the moment— you looked like an angel. patching him up so sweetly, so mindful of how he was feeling.

and if anything, john price likes to keep his scores even- you help him out he helps you out.

“so good f’me, love. always so good” and you look just as good as he first saw you; lip between your teeth, unwilling to let too many people know how good his cock feels pounding into you. “patchn’ me up so well, takin’ my cock like you were made f’it”

and the captain would be damned if someone tried to take you from his team; you’re too good to them to go anywhere. he knows they know what happens after you patch him up, and he knows you’d do the same for any of them too- they just need a little push on the right direction!

[girl-lostconnection]

Concept of a concept time:

Reader who goes through the whole relationship with Ghoap or the whole 141 believing that they would always come second place, because of course Simon would burn the world down if Soap was taken out of it. Of course, Price would do everything and anything to save Simon. Of course, Simon would turn into monster if it meant keeping his family safe, keeping his TaskForce safe.

Of course, Kyle would go mad with grief if he was to lose Johnny. Of course, Kyle would become a shell of himself if he lost Price.

Of course they would all shatter without each other alive and well. It was obvious. It was a fact.

Reader who sees it and places themselves on the outside of it, because these men were already something before they came along. These men were already tight knit and close to each other.

These men were already family when Reader got dropped into their laps. It’s only natural they don’t really slot fully. There’s just no more space.

Reader who takes every bit and crumb of an affection they are given. Reader who gives away everything. All of them. Every kiss and confession, every hug, every bit of love and care they have. They give it all, because yeah, maybe they will never be a part of these 4. But they can be near and maybe…maybe that’s enough?

Reader, who dies. Not instead of Soap, not instead of anyone. They just don’t come back from the job one day, their foot locker was supposed to be shipped out to the family. But there is no family.

So 141 takes it. Who, if not them, right?

Reader, who dies and haunts the narrative from that point on. Reader who leaves a hole the size of a person and no one can fill it. It’s impossible.

Reader, whose warmth was seeping through them all for so long, the absence of it feels like a whiplash. The absence of it feels in their bones and it’s cold-cold-cold now. Their hearth dies and there is nothing to do about it but keep going.

Soldiers die every day, this one shouldn’t have been special. But they were.

Kyle who takes their personal things before someone else can come and toss them out, sleeping with their T-shirts and hoodies. Part of him dies with Reader. Part of him is getting buried with them. He’s sitting at their funeral until Price leads him away.

Simon who takes their photos and books, hiding them, keeping them safe. He needs to have it, because memory is traitorous and one day he might not be able to put a face to the name and he’s terrified of it to the point of feeling sick.

Soap who takes mementoes — keychains and magnets from all of the deployments, he takes every knick knack they found in the foot locker and Reader’s room, he stores them next to his. There are new keychains on every set of his keys. He’s fumbling with them every time he feels like there’s knot in his throat and he can’t speak.

Price gets the notebooks. Just a few of those were in a footlocker, filled with scribbles and meal plans and random quotes and games Reader played with Kyle during boring briefings. But it feels like them. It smells like them. Reader never wrote a consistent diary, too little time and too much going on, but they notated the places and times and that Soap coughs like a sick Victorian child and that Kyle has the most perfect beauty marks on his thighs and that Price sneezes like dad and that Simon sleeps with lamp on.

It is everything there was of them. Everything there’s left of their love and John isn’t sure he’d be able to part with it. It isn’t fair that it happened like that. It isn’t fair that he feels like destroying his whole office when he reads the “im not sure i fit in. on the bright side I reckon if something was to happen to me, no one would mourn too long. they have each other, I should be happy it is like that. I should be grateful” because it’s not fair-not fair-not fair-not fair.

John doesn’t show these diaries to anyone. John guards them like his most prized possession, reading it over and over because you, silly perfect thing, why haven’t you said anything. Why haven’t they noticed anything.

John doesn’t show it to anyone because he’s not sure if they won’t crumble under the notion. He’s not sure they won’t shatter when the rest find out that Reader died thinking they weren’t part of the family.

John sobs so hard, bile rises to his throat, world swimming in his eyes and it hurts, and he’s so fucking angry and it’s so unfair. Because it’s not true, because of course you were part of them, of course you matter, of course they mourn.

Because you die never finding out how much you were loved. Because there’s nothing he can do.

And it’s not fair.

Continuation