Price inviting the team over to his house to meet his lovely wife and his sweetheart daughter.
His daughter only living there at the moment after a nasty break up and not being able to find a new apartment immediately.
Prices wife welcoming the guys at the door and letting them into the warm house.
The boys take off their shoes after misses Price tells them to. Then they look at the stairs seeing a sweet and beautiful woman descending them.
Soap’s mouth falls open, Gaz’s eyes widen while he is actively trying to keep his mouth closed and Ghost drops his jacket when he tried to just put it on the hook.
“Hey, I’m …” you beam at the men that collectively think:
We’re fucked and not the good kind.
_______________________________________________
Price is over 50 in this and his daughter is like 23.
Simon who just becomes a total flirt with ditzy!reader.
Not that he was never one, but it’s almost his second language when it comes to you. There are times when it takes a second for you to understand a joke or get confused by the conversation, a certain cute doe eyed look on your face will appear. Smiling and nodding and connecting context clues. And theres Simon, your translator, gently pulling you close so your tits are is smooshed again this chest and your almost sat in his lap, listening to the words that come from his lips.
“He means he’s gonna drink a shite ton dovie.”
“She’s sayin it’s hard f’her at work. Understandable, considerin’- well, everything.”
“Means he’s tryin t’get someone as pretty as you da’lin. Fuckin won’t, ‘d be a good try, innit? No ones got these sexy fuckin socks going up your pretty legs, yeah?.”
Simons so damn smooth with it, titling your head up more by your chin, making you giggle as he explains a joke to you, worse just getting down right filthy in plain sight, enough that you’ll smack his chest to get him to quit. But he’ll feel the heat blooming across on your skin, the little hitch in your breath as your heart pumping faster. Your husband’s large rubbing your thighs, slowly going to your stomach, you can feel the end of his lips twitching upward under his skull mask balaclava against your ear.
“Gonna put my cock riiiight ‘ere darlin, gonna look so stunnin’ sobbing while you sit on it f’me, Pretty thighs wrapped around m’waist, could ‘ace at ya right now-“
“God shut up!” You whine out, a silly grin on your face.
“You two are acting like we’re not here right now.” Gaz smirks.
“Aye! ‘M feelin left out! Thought we were ‘possed t’be gettin introduced L.T.” Soap pouts.
Another whisper reaches your ear, one that has another giggle erupting from you, you’re turn to play translator,
“Simon says he doesn’t care,” you bite your lip and laugh hard enough you throw your head back, “And he doesn’t appreciate you takin away his precious time with his wife.”
Your eyes widen a little at their playfully annoyed faces, you clarify, “But I am having fun hanging out guys! We could stay longer!”
Simon only squeezes you in his big arms tighter, head resting on your shoulder, he grumbles, “They’ve had enough time love! Let ‘em rot.”
Did you- did you just have Ghost pout over you?
a/n: I have a RAGING headache. Someone asked for pt 2, I provided.
overprotective!simon who is always super hyper-vigilant of you guys surroundings when you are out together. his eyes are always scanning the room tracking your every movement. especially in big crowds he will lead the way and walk in front of you while holding your hand.
overprotective!simon who gently maneuvers you around when in public. he’ll slightly shift you by your waist or gives you light thigh taps to make sure your being alert.
overprotective!simon who abides by the side walk rule at all times. even at home he makes you sleep furthest away from the door. in any situation whatever side is least dangerous is the side you’ll be on.
overprotective!simon who always picks you up after a night out. he hates the idea of you being intoxicated wandering the streets by yourself trying to get home to him.
overprotective!simon who wants to drive you everywhere. even though you both have working vehicles, he refuses to let you drive your car when he’s around.
Price complained about his lunch to you, his missus. Does not end well for him…
Price had been muttering since morning. Not about the mission, not about the weather, but about his lunch.
“Bloody same thing every day,” he grumbled under his breath while checking his kit. “Sandwiches, sandwiches, sandwiches. They knows I hate cucumber…”
Soap caught it, of course. “What’s the matter, Captain? Yer lady runnin’ outta ideas?”
“Mind your business, Johnny,” Price growled, tugging his cap lower. But his bad mood carried all the way through the day.
When the squad finally sat down for a breather, Price pulled out his lunchbox. He was ready to see another neatly wrapped sandwich, probably the same thing he’d been eating all week.
Instead, when he peeled back the bread, he froze. No cheese. No ham. No cucumber. Nothing but two plain slices of bread and a note shoved between them.
In bold marker, it reads:
“Fuck you. Make your own lunch next time.
<3 –Y/N”
The lads went feral.
Soap nearly fell off his rock laughing. “OH GOD- they actually wrote it out proper! With a heart at the end! That’s marriage-grade fury, Cap!”
Gaz doubled over. “Y/N sick of your whining, mate. You’ve been demoted from sandwiches to bread.”
Even Ghost’s voice carried amusement. “Generous of em, giving you bread at all.”
Price sat there, shoulders stiff, cheeks red, muttering into his mustache. “Bloody hell…”
Soap leaned over with his own sandwich, grinning ear to ear. “Fancy a trade, Cap? Mine’s got cheese and a partner who doesn’t hate me.”
Gaz added between snickers, “Better hope they doesn’t swap your dinner for just a plate with a sticky note that says ‘starve.’”
Price sighed and tucked the note back between the bread, defeated. “Should’ve kept my mouth shut…”
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Part 1. | Part 2. | Part 3. | Part 4. | | Part 5. | Next Part | His seat | His lunch | His coffee | His sandwich | Your Gym Confession | What kind of Protection? | "Luck or skill? Either way, lucky wife." | "Last Blow-" | "Embarrassing Mom" |
Simon with an American reader who loves all things British. You love his accent so much, you always ask him to say things, and not the typical ‘bottle of water’ but more like a random sentence you made with lots of words that end in ing or start with h, letters you know he doesn't pronounce as clearly. You love it when he uses more British words, like arse instead of ass, or yer/yous/ya instead of you, or piss instead of fuck, there's just something about it that you find fascinating.
Simon probably wouldn't put up with it if you weren't dating, but he finds it cute and he feels a sense of pride when you moan louder when his accent thickens while he’s fucking you senseless. Your fascination with his accent never comes of as rude or condescending, it just seems like you're curious and you have liking for it, sometimes you point how words don't sound right with British spelling or how Simon doesn't always speak with proper grammar but its less of a correction and more of a simple observation. You're well aware of your American accent and slang, all the guys point out when you spell a word in American English rather than British English, “oh mate ya gotta watch out, cancelled with two L” or “doll, its’ Organise and Programme, there's too many typos to read this thing” but they were always just teasing you.
Simon isn't the only one you're obsessed with though, although Simon's Manchester accent is your absolute favorite you love Soaps Scottish accent and Price’s and Gaz’s British accent. You love pointing out the subtle differences in Simon's Manchester accent vs the traditional British one and you love Soaps Scottish saying. Soap loves saying a full sentence just of combined Scottish sayings in the heaviest accent he can manage because he knows it'll get your attention and you'll immediately be asking about it “Lang may yer lum reek! Whit’s fur ye’ll no go past ye. Safe oot, safe hame. Haste Ye Back!” On missions Simon isn't allowed to speak in a deep voice and Soap isn't allowed to say Scottish slang because both distract you too much, just for different reasons.
You're also for some reason absolutely in love with British history, and for some reason Simon has all the answers. The moment there’s a lull in a mission your asking over comms, “Si, what happened in 1840” and without further question Simon just replies with “colonized New Zealand, attacks on China, unification of Canada, Queen Victoria's wedding” no one on the team even bats an eye now. If there's ever something Simon doesn't know he's pulling you against him on the couch as soon as possible so you two can learn together. Sometimes Simon goes out of his way to find new obscure facts just so he can tell you and see your face light up.
Soap has a joking rivalry with the other members of the 141, anytime one of them tells him not to do something he mumbles “you British, always taking my independence” he thought when you joined the team he would have another ally, and at first he did. You and Soap would be scheming and Price would notice and immediately scold you two, and you two would reply in unison “the British, always giving orders” and when Price walks away you yell out “what are you going to do next, tax my tea, again!” before bursting into laughter with Soap. But more recently you stay by Simon's side, Soap dramatic as ever acts heartbroken by your ‘betrayal’ Gaz would try to go over and comfort him, but Soap would push him away “your British too, I’m all alone in this world”
You two are an odd pair that somehow fit perfectly together.
I had a delicious idea abt the characters coming home early from work ,they open the door and their wife doesn't greet them like she usually does instead the approach the bathrooms hear whispers "my!you've made such as mess!" " We need to hide you before ___ comes home!" They assume it's cheating (or smthn sus) so they open the door only to find their wife bathing a little baby animal and shes like "uhhhh....surprise?"
Hiii! I'm doing so well! Thank you for asking! This prompt is so cute. Really needed some fluffy, silly goodness. I did go a bit unhinged and made 3 of the 4 prompts with baby animals you probably don't expect. Thank you for sending this in!!! Enjoy!!!
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)
Content & Warnings: brief language, humor, jealousy, fluff, established relationship
Word Count: 900
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
John Price
John frowns.
It’s not like you to go to bed early. Even though you love sleeping, you stay up to greet him when he comes home. You not being there is weird. Unusual. A break from routine.
He searches the whole house, stopping in front of the closed bathroom door. John presses his ear to the wood. He hears water, soft splashing, and then your voice speaking softly to someone.
“Look at this mess. We need to hide you. Before John comes home.”
Hiding? Who the bloody hell are you attempting to hide from him? A dark rage wells in his chest. Whoever it is, they’re dead.
John burst through the bathroom door. It slams against the doorstop, bouncing back at him. He throws up his hand, stopping the door from knocking him on his ass.
“Where are they?” he growls, when the only person John finds is you.
“Who?”
“The person you were talking to.”
There’s a splash from the tub, and John charges forward. There is no human in the tub. No one submerged in the water. There are…puppies. An entire litter.
“Surprise?” you giggle, shrugging your shoulders.
John exhales slowly. “You want to keep them, don’t you?”
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
The house is silent.
You’re always at the door to greet him, to give him a hug and kiss, to ask him about his day. Kyle drops his keys and bag by the door, removing his shoes. As he enters further into the house, he calls out to you.
You don’t answer.
A subtle worry settles in. Kyle searches the house, starting with the bottom floor. When you don’t appear, he heads for the stairs, taking them two at a time. Up he goes, stopping at the top of the stairs.
The bedroom door is open, the lights off except for the yellow glow of the bathroom. He hears splashing. A grunt. And what sounds like a yowl.
Kyle creeps forward, pushing the bedroom door wider. The splashing is louder now, followed by your voice.
“We need to hide you before Kyle comes home.”
Hide. Hide?
Worry becomes a sharp bite of blooming jealousy. Kyle bursts through the door, expecting to find you with another.
“You’re home,” you state.
You’re on your knees in front of the tub, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, arms submerged in soap water. Something furry moves in the water.
“What is that?” asks Kyle.
Your mouth makes a small o and then you’re lifting it into the air. “I found this kitten on the side of the road. Couldn’t leave it there.”
Kyle observes the kitten you hold out to him. Its facial structure is off, paws bigger than they should be, and there is a difference in the coat that doesn’t remind Kyle of any domestic cat breed.
This isn’t someone’s lost kitten. It’s a baby cougar.
“Can we keep it?” you ask, as Kyle removes his phone from his pocket.
“I’ll make a call,” he replies while dialing the nearest animal sanctuary.
John "Soap" MacTavish
Johnny stands awkwardly in the entryway. “Darling?”
There is no answer, and Johnny isn’t sure what to do. When he comes home, you’re always there. Instead, the house is dark, and the television is on with no sound.
Discarding his keys and shoes by the front door, Johnny ventures in, opening doors and even looking under the coffee table.
He glances down the hall, heading for the bedroom when he hears what he believes to be running water. Johnny pokes his head around the door, and your voice greets him.
“My. Look at you. Making a mess.”
At first, your voice brings a smile to his face. It’s a brief flicker as his brain processes your words and tone.
“Need to hide you, yeah? Before your dad comes home.”
Dad? Johnny isn’t a father. You’re not parents.
Elbowing the bathroom door, Johnny enters the bathroom and stops. You’re fully dressed, in the shower, and at your feet, knocking over bottles, is a—
“That a racoon?”
You turn abruptly, and wave. “Found it alone. Digging in the trash.” Johnny takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “It’s just a baby.”
Johnny glances up at the ceiling, hands on his hips. “Why me?”
Simon "Ghost" Riley
You do not throw yourself into Simon’s arms when he walks through the door. There is only silence, and yet you must be home because every single light in the house is on. Simon walks through the house, turning off overheads and switching off lamps.
It is the thunk overhead that draws his attention upward. That has him gliding up the stairs. The guest bathroom door is shut, and another thunk, this one louder than the last, comes from behind it, followed by your voice.
“You’re making a mess. We’ll need to hide you before Simon comes home.”
Hide? Who the hell are you trying to hide?
As Simon shoves the bathroom door open, he almost stumbles as he comes to an abrupt halt. The only human in the room is you, but you’re not alone.
“Is that a cow?” blurts Simon, staring at a four-legged white and black animal.
Before you can answer, the thing moos, stomping its legs.
Your mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. “Uh…yeah?”
“Did you buy a baby cow?”
The calf struggles in your arms, the water around it sloshing, some of it spilling over the lip of the tub and landing on the floor.
What do you think abt könig and bush 🤔🤔 personally I think he’d love it on his partner but I’d love to hear your thoughts!!
I myself am partial to my fem characters having bushes and that probably reflects in my writing 🤣
I think König himself doesn't have a preference--he is incredibly turned on both by bare pussy and a healthy bush, in different but equal ways. He loves the way your arousal makes the curls between your thighs glisten. He loves the way your stubble feels on his lips when he eats you out. He loves the perfect view of your cunt he has when it's bare. No matter what, it's amazing. He is genuinely the type of guy who prefers whatever his partner is most comfortable and confident with. He's just obsessed with you no matter what tbh.
I know you didn't ask about the others, buuuut I feel compelled to answer anyway 🤣
I think Ghost prefers a bush but doesn't mind a bare pussy. It's your cunt, which makes it better than any other--simple as.
Soap, on the other hand, is utterly devastated if you shave. If he doesn't see that patch of hair between your thighs, he stops in the middle of taking your pants off to stare in horror. He grieves your bush like it was a beloved pet that he watched be flattened by a truck. He's also so turned off his erection immediately flags, and he simply can't get it back up. He's childish about it, too--pouts and and moans and groans about missing his Bonnie's wee jungle, and he won't fuck you until it grows back. It's hypocritical of him because he keeps his downstairs neatly trimmed like his face--albeit the rest of him is pretty hairy.
Not as hairy as Price, though. The man's a bear in more way than one. And his mate needs her winter pelt to stay warm, don't she? So no, he doesn't like it if you shave (with the exception being in a kink way, where he does it for you), but he's not immature about it like Johnny--he's disappointed, and stern. Your disobedience demands punishment--and the one upside of your newly bare cunt is that it will make his spanking it all the more effective.
As much as it pains me to say, Kyle is not a bush lover 😔 It's not like it's a dealbreaker for him, and he'll never outright ask you to shave, but he definitely prefers bald pussy--and if you do happen to shave, he will express just how much he likes it. He's no hypocrite, either--he keeps himself free of any hair down there as well, because he thinks it's more hygienic and that it looks and feels nicer. That being said, he's never going to complain about you having a bush, or try to make you feel insecure about it.
