Price X Reader - Blog Posts

TALK DIRTY TO ME

how konig, ghost, and price talk dirty in bed.

thirsts : open

—

konig is surprisingly vocal when he’s rutting into you, though it’s probably not in the way you think. most of his words come out in hushed whispers laced with obscenities. he seems to lose any sense of shame he usually has because he’s just too drunk on the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him.

“feels s’fucking good—“ he mindlessly babbles out.

his large palms are stretched out on both sides of you, fingers digging into the mattress, while he keeps you caged underneath him.

“such a greedy pussy,” he groans out with another roll of his hips. “keeps suckin’ me back in…”

you can feel his hot breath fanning your face while his darkened eyes are stuck — transfixed — on the creamy white ring that covers his cock. the sloppy sounds that fill the room seem to only grow louder with each thrust, as your arousal practically drips down his balls.

“just begging for me to fill ya up,” he hissed out, as he presses down on your stomach which makes you whimper in response. the noise somehow flips a switch in him and has könig fucking into you even harder.

“s’that what ya want? need me to fill ya up, fuck a baby into this pretty cunt?”

price just exudes dominance in all aspects even with his dirty talk, his words are more praising than anything else though. he’s always coaching you through things and telling you how good of a job you’re doing, he knows it gets you off and he also just can’t help but spoil you.

“mhmm, just like that, baby.” he mumbles out as he lazily guides your movements, helping you bounce yourself up and down on his cock.

there’s a smirk on his face that he can’t even be bothered to hide when he hears you whining at the praise. he thinks you’re adorable when you’re like this, so desperate for him yet so adamant on not asking for his help. you could be such a brat sometimes, he’d have to deal with that later.

“doing so well,” he says with a groan as he thrusts his hips up in time with your movements. “but you don’t think you’re gonna make me cum just from this, do you?”

it doesn’t take much effort for him to flip you over and have you at his mercy. your legs are now lifted over his shoulders while his dick is fucking you even deeper, the tip prodding against your sweet spot just right it has your toes curling.

“feels good, doesn’t it?” his movements are slow and controlled, he knows you’re close — he can feel it — but he’s not going to reward you unless you use yours words.

“come on, princess. all you have to do is beg and i’ll have you screaming for me…”

everything ghost says is absolutely filthy, he is all about the little details. he doesn’t actually notice what he’s saying in the heat of the moment, all he knows is that his words have your cheeks flushing to a pretty shade of red, and he loves it.

“you’re such a fuckin’ slut for me even your pussy knows it.” he practically growls. “look at this sloppy mess you’re making.”

he ruts the tip of his cock against your slit, coating your folds with his pre-cum. “jus’ gonna slip in with how wet you are..”

your arm is slung over your face as a way for you to hide your embarrassment, you know he’s right, there’s no way you could deny it. something about the way he talks to you when he’s pent up like this has your pussy throbbing.

“fuck, need to be balls deep inside this cunt.” he breathes, as he eases his way into you, the fat head of his cock slowly splitting you open as he makes you take in more and more of him.

the veins on his length rub your slick walls deliciously and it’s not surprising that you’re already twitching and creaming all over him as soon as he bottoms out.

“that’s it, there’s my slutty girl.” his raspy laugh fills the silence. “stop using that pretty head, all you need to do is cum for me.”

OMG I JUST HAD A THOIGHT. What if like on this fic that you wrote “tulips or roses”, what if Rose and reader met?!?!

PLSPLSPLSPLS MAKE IT ANGSTY TO FLUFF TOO 🙏🙏🙏🙏

AMAZING THOUGHT POOKIE I WAS THINKING THE SAME >_< also i'm on holiday rn visiting family so ofc the wifi decides to the shittiest rn so apologies for slow uploads and errors :( and tags aren't working??? Word Count: 2k

Tulips meets Roses.

It was a Friday evening at the pub, where you sat beside John Price, your arms interlinked with his clenched bicep listening to another one of Johnny's story.

"'n' th' mornin' efter we shagged, she juist vanished! Efter a' th' love we made?"

Ghost grunts in mock sympathy, and Gaz stifles a scoff next to him, "She probably got scared of your haunted puppet collection mate-"

"Oh ye leave Bonnybelle oot o' this-"

These outings weren't as frequent as one would hope, considering how busy the Task Force usually was, but when there was a break with the missions, most of the soldiers found themselves at the hustle and bustle of the local pub, and it made it better when you could bring a plus one.

It's been a few months since the 'argument' about Rose, and even though John likes to name it a 'dispute', he's drilled it into your head how it was his fault completely not yours.

"Yeah well, me and my girl visited Bali for our anniversary-" Kyle boasts to the group.

"Yeah 'n' Simon gaed tae Croydon wi' his grandma, sae whit." [to all my non-londoners, Croydon is THE GHETTO. always in support of croydon slander]

John snickers, and you smile as the feelings of his arms encapsulating you. "You'll find someone one day, Johnny, I know it." You smile sloppily, partially tipsy from all the alcohol consumed and partially from all the sweet talk.

"Aye ah better, a'm wantin' th' Tulip tae mah Price."

Ah, turns out John's been calling you Tulip to everyone.

"She's limited edition, find your own fuckin' flower." John comically dismisses, taking a hefty sip of his beer, bringing you impossibly closer to him.

Your smile at the compliment is cut short when a blonde bob catches your peripheral, and just as you're about to turn your head to catch the face you're looking at-

"Is your garden in bloom?" Simon casually questions.

The table immediately erupts in coughs and laughter, with Gaz side-eyeing Simon's question, and Johnny laughing at the clever Bridgerton reference. John corrects his posture at the comment and covers his cough with his fist, a light tinge of pink painting his pale bearded cheeks. He'll make sure Simon runs double the amount of laps during practice.

"And that's my cue..." You press a warm kiss against John's temples, before heading off to the women's bathroom, not blind to the 'awwws' and coos from Soap, and the "What does it mean? I only watched the sex scenes..." from Simon.

Walking to the women's bathroom, you yawn and stretch your tense back after sitting on the wooden chair at the bar for so long.

"Tired?"

You snort, "An understatement, I'm sleepy as fuck- Oh."

Locking eyes with the voice in the mirror, grounds you back to reality. The once fictitious woman you were most worried about stands next to you in the bathroom, returning your glance through a mirror.

You break the silence, feeling awkward at the tense scene, although you're unsure if she's feeling the same. Does she know who you are? Does she think of you as her replacement?

"Weather's nice." A terrible comment considering it mid November in England; the weather's far from nice, yet Rose chuckles. For a moment, you can see why John longed for this woman, from the way her skin creased around her mouth as she flashed you a grin through the reflection.

"It's nicer in Greece, moved a few years back." She smiles amicably.

You hum, nodding as if in agreement, even though you hadn't even set foot in a Mediterranean country, "When did you come back? To the UK?"

She looks up, recollecting the days, "Hmm, must been a week now, Greece is lovely, but the UK's home, you know?"

Once again you just nod, watching as she pulls out a red Dior lipstick and reapplies to her supple lips. Watching her intensely focus on her lips makes you question John once again, a wave of insecurity rushing through you like that previous time.

She's so much better than me... You think to yourself.

"How's he been then?"

There's a pause in your breath, your eyebrows raising slightly. Rose makes eye contact with you again through the mirror, and you're grateful that she doesn't turn to look at you physically, you're scared that you might pass out in nervousness.

"I- uh, who?" You manage to blurt out, mentally cursing yourself for what you think sounded like a helium-produced high pitched squeak.

Rose chuckles at your response, "John Price. I see the way he looks at you, you been dating him for long?"

You purse your lips into a thin smile, even after years of dating and marriage, any compliment given to the both of you would send your heart to a warm frenzy.

"Been together for 4 years, married for 1..." Your smile in inevitably giddy as you admire the glittering rock plastered on your ring finger. Rose looks at your ring, her smile faltering a little, but you don't notice it in time.

"And you?"

"Me?" She straightens her posture, and even her mannerisms reflect that of your husbands a bit, "A few years of marriage...it's...nice." But it sounds like she's trying to convince herself more so than answering your question.

Your response is again, a shy nod.

Silence evades the conversation as she closes her lipstick delicately, placing it back into her expensive purse. You want to press the conversation further, beg her for more answers about the history that she might have had with John, you wanted to hear it from her perspective.

"I loved him you know."

Oh.

The world stops for a moment, and you feel the slow emergence of bile erupting from within. You're silent for moment, your thoughts halting. What kinda woman just announces that she had feeling for another's man...no, not just feelings...love.

Her reflection in the mirror breaks into small minuscule frames, as your eyes tear up. Not even a breath escapes from your mouth.

A droplet of sweat cascades down your back and you tremble at the thought of John kissing Rose.

"I...of course, realised too late. When we were celebrating my retirement, me and the team, I, uh...I was about to tell him...and I saw his phone screen...didn't know about you then, but it was a picture of you," She giggles at the memory, "Thought you must have been important 'cos that man's had that brick phone for years, and this is the first time I'd seen a different lockscreen."

You don't respond, unsure of whether to scream at her, calling her a homewrecker, or just to let her complete her speech. You realise she had used the past tense, loved. Did she still feel the same?

"And then I followed him back to his office...he was on the phone...to you. And oh my God. I swear I looked through the crack of his door, that guy was literally melting. Caught him twirling the invisible phone line and everything."

You can't suppress the tiny smirk on your face.

"And it was just a mundane conversation, nothing special...and it looked like he would kill the task force, just to have a spec of your attention on him. I've...never seen him this way, not even with me..." She whispers the last part, looking down at the droplets of water on the porcelain sink.

"I'm sorry if I'm intruding, I guess I just came here to get closure-"

"Did you get it?"

The first you've said in minutes, and the tone was so gruff, one would think you were berating her.

She nods, still smiling, and for a second you wonder how strong this woman would have been, flying all the way back, just to see someone she'd harboured feelings with another.

"And even if I hadn't, I wouldn't do anything to either of you...forgive me, I'm not like that."

You nod, intaking some air after what felt like hours. You force yourself to turn your body towards her, a question still stuck in your head, urging to be answered.

"Rose." You whisper. She looks at you with a sweet smile, and for a second you feel bad for even thinking such inhumane thoughts about her.

"Do you still love him?" It was short and curt, no hesitation in your question, which did sound somewhat more like a command.

She looks at her reflection in the mirror, as if assessing her flaws and imperfections. There's another uncomfortable pause in the atmosphere, and it feels like the two of you have sucked a breath in anticipation.

The truth is...she doesn't know. What even is love? Is it measurable? Is it subjective, objective, definite, is it yes or no? Are there layers to love? Can you love two people at the same time? Has she ever felt love?

Does she still love John?

Did she ever love John?

Did John ever love...her?

She thinks back to when she walked into the bar, her eyes searching for the bearded captain, only to see them locked on...you.

Oh the way he looked at you. It reminded her of a loyal dog watching upon his master, like a peasant being granted a sip of golden delicious nectar for the first time. Like the way the moon orbits the Earth indefinitely, following Mother Earth on her orbital path.

Like the way a wounded man would rest in his knees painfully, praying for his Goddess to notice at least one his pleas, as he weeps for her.

It was a look she never gave to him, and one he never gave to her. That look, he had only reserved for ... you.

"No, I suppose not, not the way he loves you." It comes out in a pained whisper, and Rose can't tell if she wanted to go back in time to have John all to herself or if she believes that she would ever experience that kind of connection with him.

You hum, it felt like your voice box was strained every time you responded, but you felt at peace, finally.

How long have been in the bathroom for?

Run along now, John's probably looking for you.

You hug Rose, and you can tell she's not used to physical touch, the way her tall frame freezes at the contact. She smiles to you, silently apologising for her burdensome self.

You leave the bathroom, with a smile bigger than you had ever worn.

Soap's points towards you, at the table, and the others smile, John immediately whisking his head so quickly, you fear he might have pulled a muscle.

"Hey baby," you whisper into his hair, sitting down next to him, with his arm around you, where you belong.

"Jesus, sweetheart, 'was about to go to the bathroom m'self to look for you..." He mumbles, pressing his soft lips against your temple, purposely brushing his beard against your cheek.

You hum, as he presses fluttering kisses against your neck, whispering all kinds of affectionate names, oblivious to the fact that Ghost was already submitting a letter of compliant for excess PDA.

Rose shortly leaves, exiting the pub, her eyes falling on John's blushed cheeks burying into your hair, as she opens the door.

He turns to her, feeling someone looking at her, but instead of freaking out, he just smiles, acknowledging her presence, and quickly shoving his cheek against yours.

Tulips truly were his favourite flowers.

"SHE GAED TAE TH' BATHROOM 'N' DINNAE WASH HER HAUNDS"

tag yourself, i'm gaz's wife 😹 tags -> @lilliumrorum, @kxtz3, @poohkie90, @rainlovesyou12, @restrictionsapply-blog, @lunamoonbby , @nigthmar3moon , @thychuvaluswife , @itsnourm , @bubusi11, @chessecakelover , @owkittie, @cheomain , @corvusmorte , @k4es , @mandythemint , @copiasratscheese , @yyiikes , @funkyysho3es, @delta98-idk , @spankmydepression , @yourfavbabigirl

Silent Smoker

John Price x You

nay's missing john price, so here's some fluff (?) anyone here comforted by smoking/someone else smoking? i'm not :/ - icl the smell is so repulsive to me, but i'm on my hands and knees for anything price does-

John knew you didn't like when he smoked. So, he avoided smoking.

Around you, that is.

He still frequently pulled out his cigars, lit them, and smoked them at the base, but when he came home he made sure to kiss your lips with his strawberry flavoured gum in his mouth, aware of your dislike it.

You hug him tightly, heart full of content now that your man's home, but you can't help but notice the slight scent of nicotine and whiskey coating his frame when you press up against him.

But you ignore it, you're both so tired, you from your regular 9-5 job, and Price, as a well-respected captain.

Price was aware you didn't like smoking. It reminded you of your neglectful parents, who you'd find preferred smoking over cuddling with their child. Or you're ex partners who'd just be smoking the day away as you struggled your way through university life.

So it came to his surprise when he found his half-used cigars lying around, on the bathroom sink, the ash tray, the balcony.

He knew the culprit would be you, I mean unless someone decided to break into your home, steal absolutely nothing, smoke his cigars, then leave, but he was confused on why and when you started.

Were you stressed? Were you bored? Were you curious?

Questions circulated John's head as he entered your bedroom after one busy day, 11 p.m. rolling by quickly.

"Love," he pressed his chaste kiss against your forehead before climbing into your bed, smile pressed against your head as your cuddle against his chest.

"John..." you mumble.

Yeah, you're the culprit. He can recognise that post-cigar smell from anywhere once your breath wafted towards his direction.

He pauses for a second, and sits up, causing you to look up at him, too tired to move. You tilt your head at him in confusion, and he swears his heart melts a bit.

"Sweetheart, you know you can talk to me about anything right?"

Your face bares a confused expression.

"The cigars-" he starts.

"Are you mad?" His heart breaks a little at your question.

"No! Of course not! I'm- I'm just a little confused. You always mentioned how you hated when I smoked, but you're doing it too- and that's okay!" he rambles, "But are you okay, I know we haven't talked much, we're both busy and stressed, and if there's anything I can do, I'd appreciate you telling me, I wan' to supp-"

You muffle his words with a kiss, smiling against his lips.

Oh John.

He sighs against you, sleep evading his eyes.

"Just a big stressed, no biggie, not a consistent thing." You mutter, pulling him back to laying next to you.

He wraps his arms against you, gently stroking your head, "You know you can always talk to me..." he mumbled against your forehead.

You smile at his kind words. Even when he's going through the most, he never fails to be by your side.

"I know, love, I know."

You both drift into a well deserved sleep, wrapped with the warmth of John's arms, and the faint scent of his cigars lingering around, knowing that this was a conversation for tomorrow.

JOHN COME HOME THE KIDS MISS YOU.

LOVERS CREEK

John Price x chubby Reader // prologue

A/N; this is my first time actually writing a story for any fandom really. And I’m gonna try and be consistent as possible! This story will have multiple parts—so please be warned of that! The story also switches from past to present a lot and I don’t usually use first person so! This will also be uploaded on my AO3 !

Please note I do not allow my writing to be translated, published anywhere else that isn’t me uploading it, and I would not like it on any Poe AI or any of the sort without my permission, or acknowledgment ! I’m still learning as I go about c.ai and Poe so! Also I do not own any of the call of duty characters used in this story! I really “own” the y/n ( reader ) !

Story Summary: You and Price are childhood best friends, and almost Highschool sweethearts. But unlike a cliche, you both hold feelings in for years, even after graduating. Communication between you too soon diminishes as life after graduation gets busy. Price has succeeded in hiding his feelings, until he gets a letter at base. It’s a letter from you. And it’s about your wedding..

Dear John,

I hope this letter finds you well! It was hard finding anyone in the area that was still mutual with us to know where you were. But I took a trip to see your mother and she filled me in plenty. I didn’t know you were still doing that military job of yours, figured you’d find a steady life after. You always talked about a lake house you wanted to buy after your military duty.

But enough with miscellaneous talk—I plan to do that later with you— I’m inviting you, John Price, My best friend, to my wedding which will be hosted at the Saint Crossroads Church. The same church our mothers would force us to go to on Sundays. I remember how you always itched to take that tie you always wore off, but your mom would slap your hand away just in time. You’d sit next to me in the first row as the pastor would preach his word.

But now, on September 17th of this year—and next week!—, he will be my officiant, marrying me off to my soon to be husband. And I hope to see you there, in the front row like old times.

Sincerely,

Your Best Friend

His eyes read over the letter multiple times. His rough hands held the delicate letter with such softness that he barely touched it.

He wasn’t expecting this. John could feel his heart race, pounding and trying to leap out his chest. You. His best friend that he hasn’t forgotten was getting married. There was denial sprouting in his head. You can’t be getting married right? He thought to himself, but the fancy yet simple letter that laid softly in his head showed him more than the truth. It showed him the harsh reality. He remembered how your mom and his bonded—making you guys best friends as well. He remembered how the both of you would stick together around primary school, all the way to secondary school. He could remember his hidden feelings for you—he hid them so he wouldn’t ruin the friendship.

A conflicted sigh left his mouth. His rough hand put the letter down on his desk as his other hand shagged through his hair. He knew he had to go. A no show would break you.

And he’d love to see you again..

A/N ; just the prologue! Nothing too big but a bit short! I’m really just testing if anyone wants to read this aside from my friends aha!!

TagList ; @jenniferpendragon

NAVIGATION

ABOUT ME

ETC

Hey hey first things first ! On here I would like to be referred to a Beau! I’m a fanfic writer for a few fandoms in which you can find on my masterlist as well!

Down Below the cut is my MasterList to the things I write! So far there’s only COD stuff cause majority of my friends enjoy that 😅

I do want to put a trigger warning on here! And I will also put trigger warnings on the writing themselves! I tend to write a lot of angst and smut because I’m very bad at coming up with full fledged out plots sometimes but aha! Oh well—

MasterList

Call of Duty

- John Price

LOVERS CREEK ; click here !

- Simon Ghost Riley

- Kyle Gaz Garrick

- Johnny Soap MacTavish

MORE TO COME..

Ask box is open!

Sooooo, guess who’s writing a John Price x Reader where they’re childhood friends that love each other but won’t admit it! And years go by with communication that seems to diminish. Only for price to get a letter that he’s invited to a wedding…your wedding .! He doesn’t know how to feel, but he knows his heart pounds once again as his long lost love for you entere his mind….

There’s already two chapters in progress and my beta readers are helping out ! :]

I’ve been having bear price brain rot and omg <333 I wrote some things 🤭

I’ve done made a whole thing for wolf buddies Soap and Gaz too, and a Buck Simon 😩😩

Can you do one with a female reader who likes to act in her free time and invites the task force 141+Alejandro +Rudy to see her play at the theater? Feel free to ignore this

This could be seen as platonic or romantic for Price.

Sorry for the late update, I just finished watching Shadow and bone and I am looking for the books, so maybe I can write for it. I don't know, do you have any suggestions?

1-4-1 had just come back from the long and tiring mission. They were glad they could take a few days off, maybe they could join you on your vacation. It had been long since you all gathered for something other than missions.

1-4-1 Walked the hall, bags under their eyes with Alejandro and Ruby by their side. It was surprising when they joined them on the way back. As they were about to enter the kitchen for a cup of tea and some for a cup of whiskey, your voice suddenly was heard a few steps away.

"GUYS!" They turned to see you walking towards them with a friendly smile. You were wearing casual clothes, a simple white sleeveless t-shirt and jeans, but god did it look good on you, especially now that your hair was down.

When did your hair grow this tall? Has it been this long since they saw you?

You hugged each one of them, "Hello love?" Soap hugged you taking in your fresh smell, you smelled like flowers, and it relaxed him. He was now safe and sound, with you in his arms. They all thought the same, they missed you so much it broke their heart to see how you changed in the time they have left.

"How are you, Captain?" Price had a special place in your heart, you loved him a little more than the others since you worked under him and know him longer than the others. Price could say the same, he practically trained and raised you. You were his favourite soldier and person.

"Alejandro! Rudy!" A smile broke into your face as you saw the two soldiers, "Oh my God! I hadn't seen you two in years!" You kissed their cheeks and as oblivious as usual, you didn't notice the red on their cheeks. "Mi amor, we missed you too!" He hugged you. "You had grown taller!" You rolled your eyes, "I was always this tall.".

Alejandro shook his head "No, you were this tall!" He grinned teasingly, as showed you how short you had been, it is true with the training you had grown taller. Before you give one of your special sarcastic remarks Rudy took you in his arms for the second time. "Even so you are still beautiful" He whispered in your ears, making you shiver.

Did this man not know the effect he has on you?

"Thank you, Rudy." You smiled and as you were about to compliment him, you were stolen by Ghost. The sudden show of affection in public did take you off guard, but you hugged him back, not thinking much of it. "How is my favourite Riper?" He asked with a deep voice, you can hear the smiled in his voice, and you almost whistled.

God, are you testing my self-control?

"I am your only Riper, Ghost." You responded smirking, "But seriously I have missed you all." You hugged him, showing all the emotions your mouth couldn't mutter. You were truly scared when they weren't back last month, not only that but the base had lost contact with them, and you haven't heard anything from them for a whole month, but now they were back, you finally realised you could have lost them forever. "No more mission without me" You announced firmly, your tone expressing how you weren't accepting no arguments.

Price nodded smiling in sympathy, as he watched your eyes water. You broke the hug and went to Gaz, " Well isn't this my favourite boy?" You kissed his cheek, hugging him. "Hey! I thought I was your favourite!" Soap commented pouting, which made you laugh and everyone joined. It was a happy moment "How are you? I hope you didn't miss me too much?" He winked, smirking.

Okay, what the hell happened in the mission?

You smiled confusedly at their sudden change of character. Ghost who would rather die than show affection outside the closed door just hugged you, Rudy, the silent boy, complimented you and Gaz just flirted with you?

"Why are you here, not that I am not happy to see you or anything, but aren't on vacation in Hawaii or something?" Soap asked, "Yes, I was going but then I changed my mind, I didn't want to travel without you. It would have been boring." That was only half the truth. You were scared, to say the least. You were terrified of what may happen in your absence, so you stayed, and the worse thing did happen. You lost contact for a month and even then, you were forbidden from going to look for them.

You smiled through the pain of the memories and asked, "So what are you guys planning to do?" You all entered the kitchen, "Sit, I will get everything ready" You softly commanded, taking your place behind the small bar. It was built for 1-4-1 to relax when they are no missions. "Well... I don't know, sleep first and then I will see" As usual Soap was the first to respond, and everyone nodded. Sleep was now their priority. You smiled when suddenly your eyes widen in realisation and you stopped your movement, "Oh, I had completely forgotten about that!"

"What is it that you have completely forgotten about?" Gaz raised an eyebrow, " As you may know, I act in my free time and at the end of this week, I am going to perform live on the stage." You smiled proudly; it was hard to pursue your hobby when you didn't have much free time. "Wait!" Alejandro stood up walking towards you, with wide eyes. "You act?" He asked holding both of your hands. " Rudy, ¿Escuchaste? Nuestro amante es una actriz." (Rudy, did you hear? Our lover is an actress.).

You just stared as Rudy smiled like a sick lover boy and a happy puppy Alejandro.

What did he say?

Well, either way, you smiled tilting your head, it was best not to comment or demand a translation because none of them will give it. "So, when this live performance will be?" Price asked, and you took back your hand from Alejandre and passed Price the ticket you have been hiding in your pocket. It was just today that you were able to print it. Price stared and all the boys stood to read it with him, the performance was two weeks from today. "Do want us to come?" Gaz asked but you can see the answer in his eyes. Soap was giving you the puppy eyes "Sure" you laughed, "you don't have to use the puppy eyes, Soap" You wrapped an arm around his neck and grinned, you really had gotten tall. "I would have invited you either way." The man lighted up like a Christmas tree.

Was he really this happy just because I invited him?

You let him go and stepped to continue preparing their teas and liquor.

(time skip)

You were behind the stage getting your make-up done. You had your clothes on and the director was behind you making sure everything worked, but you didn't pay him any attention, your mind with your phone. You had been waiting for a call from 1-4-1 and Alejandro and Rudy, but none had called. You had tried but none answered, not after you sent them the invitation in their personal emails.

Did they change their mind?

You bit your nails until one of the make-up artists stopped you. You were now stressed; you had wished they could see you. You had been training for so long even when there was no time. You spent sleepless nights, not because you wanted to be good for the public but for your friends and now with Alejandro and Rudy here you were over the moon, but now none of them was coming.

Your train of thought was cut short when the director placed a hand on your shoulder signalling to you that they were ready for you on stage. You nodded mastering the best smile you could give and without waiting time you stood up, waiting for the final signal to walk on stage. "Your micro is ready?" One of the staff asked and you nodded.

Damn it! You can't talk. The stress had finally got to you, I guess you weren't strong as you guessed you were. You sighed, taking two breaths, and the Staff nodded when the red light shone, and you were ready to be sent to stage.

Ten minutes into acting, you had relaxed, and your shoulder was down, and when your character was supposed to be annoyed, you did what any annoyed person will do and just like how you practised, you turned to the crowd avoiding looking at the other actor. Your eyes unconsciously searched for your team, and you found them they were sitting in the first row. Your eyes almost watered and you had to use all the straight you could gather to control yourself from running towards them.

Soap, as usual, was grinning from ear to ear, Price had a proud look, a proud dad look. For Ghost, well...you couldn't see his expression under that mask, but you definitely can see his eyes twinkle under the fait lights. Gaz more focused on the story and the actors but he smiled and cheered when your eyes meet. Alejandro had a serious look, but you can pick the pride dancing in his eyes. For Rudy, he smiled shyly once he saw you looking at him.

An hour passed and you finally finished. The director and your fellow actors stood on the stage bowing to the audience. You, of all people, were smiling the brighter as your locket with your team, nothing matters more than their presence and their loud cheers.

You all left to take the make and costumes off, and some of the other actors had interviews so they are staid while you sneak out before the director can ask you to do the same. You were excited that they indeed were here to stay another second behind the stage.

Once outside, you took your phone and called but before you could put your phone on your ear two strong arms hugged your waist, you almost pushed the person if you hadn't recognised his smell of cologne.

"You were amazing." Said Soap, with a smile you responded "I know". He laughed spinning you around as he praised you over and over again with sweet words and kisses all around your face as you giggled.

"Okay, I think that's enough kissing." You weren't expecting Ghost to be the one to stop Soap, seeing as the latter was practically his boyfriend, and was that jealousy in his eyes.

You shipped the two together forever, they were close to the hip, you can never see Ghost without Soap and you can never see Soap without Ghost.

You were so deep into your head that you hadn't noticed Alejandro approaching you. You didn't acknowledge his presence until his arms were secured around your neck while the other was ruffling your hair. "You did good, niñita." He smiled as you scrawled at the mess he made with your head and before you could complain Price appeared with Gaz driving the car. "Come on, we are going to celebrate." He said and you all entered the first and second car.

Let's get freaky tonight.

Team 141 seeing female reader take off her shirt to train with her friend and seeing she has scars all over her body because she was tortured (burned, knife cuts, bullet wounds, whipped, ect) and reader having a visible pack (I don't care how many packs)

And the boys feeling sympathy for her but also blushing at her body ☻️🤭

You can decline if ya want I don't mind

Should I make Konïg, Las Vargas maybe even add Graves and Valeria versions?

TF 1-4-1: Ghost, Soap, John, Gaz.

don't forget to leave request!!! please!

warning: Torture, no details given. Horny men...little innocent reader, English isn't my first language, my writing!

It was a hot day, and luckily the team didn't have any mission. So they were chilling in the training ground.

It was intimating to see a group of tall and build men sitting and staring at the horizon. Weird too, isn't it? but not when you follow the line where their eyes were so focused on.

In the distance, you stood. Back straight up, as your friends chat with each other. You, on the other hand, were standing waiting for something.

From under the shade, they could see all your expressions, or rather the lack of them. At least, they could admire the stars in your eyes, your pouting plump lips.

It wasn't strange for the TF 1-4-1 to admire you from afar. It became a habit they picked. If you give them a chance they will worship the ground you walked on, not like they aren't already.

They just don't want to hide it anymore, but for now, it will do until you notice their efforts, then maybe things will be different, it all depends on you.

"First, it will be (Y/N) against (your friend's name)" Queu to a groan and a few complaints, while you emotionlessly walked pulling off your mask, and your t-shirt. Leaving yourself bare with only a sports bra as a cover.

It caught the 1-4-1 off guard, especially Ghost, who noticed the ghost's hands, each one holding a breast.

Here comes the train of unholy thoughts.

It sends waves of arousal to warm their stomach and crawl up their spine, as they drank in your form. Each curve, each scares, every inch of you was been craved in their minds.

The men turn away shifting from one foot to another uncomfortably trying to ease the blood rushing down there if you know what I mean.

Some were rubbing their eyes and faces as if it was trying to get rid of the image of you standing there... In only a bra and military pants, but we both know that they were craving it in their mind for later. All for everyone to see, causing a fit of jealousy to bloom in their chest.

Damn you and your body. They thought. Fighting the strong urge to relieve themselves, which could be only done in the bedroom away from prying eyes.

Here comes another unholy thought.

Didn't you know the effect you had on them? Or maybe you know, either way, you really need to stop teasing, or punishment may be the only way for you to understand what you made feel.

They all groaned, for god's sake, they were grown-ass men, not some high school girls stalking their crush.

Fuck!

Why their pants are getting tight?

It was weird for you to show some skins, not like you didn't look great. You looked more than great, but after one horrifying mission, you stopped showing even your hands.

Ghost was present with you that day. He had to watch unable to do anything, as they torture you over and over again for days, and the scars on your body were proof of what you had been through. You screamed still hunting his mind, verytime he closed or opened his eyes.

He blamed himself every second of the day, because if he had listened to you and didn't leave you alone, you may have been able to fight the enemy together, and neither you nor him, would have been captured.

You ran a hand through your hair, before putting in a high ponytail. Getting in your position and the boys remarked how your eyes were closed. You didn't even open them when your friend was attacking you left and right. You avoided all attacks, without breaking a sweat. As if you sense his movement, your movements were smooth too. Much different form military training.

Price, unlike the others, was more interested in your abilities Why are you lying? he had read your files. All he could say that is he was impressed. He tried getting you on his team, unfortunately, you had taken two years off the military to heal from your last mission.

He had heard from Lasweel, that you looked like a mummy when the doctors were done. They say it was a miracle that you survived, sadly, the scars will be forever graved on your body, just the memories in your mind.

Now you were back, with a few rumours lit up like fire in the woods about you. They were all absurd of course, yet some seem to believe them, resulting in them avoiding you like the plague, but you didn't seem to mind. Actually, he had noticed how agitated you become when you share the same space as someone else.

You are always tensed and on guard, whenever someone was talking to you, the only person who you seemed to ease around was Soap, who the moment notice your packs accidentally when you were training together, was stuck like the glue to your side.

You never pushed him, you responded to every question he asked, like patient parents with their children, and somehow you were able to understand his weird choice of words, and even then you spoke few words, only listening and humming along the way.

That gave Gaz some courage, to try and talk to, and boy did he feel bad!

Gaz was one of the people who believed the absurd rumours. He found them to be real. You never tried to prove him wrong, until, he sat by your side, as you prepare something to eat.

Soap had practically dragged him, to meet his crush you. For a movie night. You didn't speak much, you just listen attentively to each word that comes out of Soap's mouth, and he could a crossed smile, even it was small each time Soap throw a joke, no matter how bad it was.

He watched you all night eyes only focusing on you. In his mind, he was watching waiting for one wrong move, while his heart was memorizing each part of, each move and the reason behind it. Maybe that's how he knew you well.

You didn't do anything that night that proves that you were the person in the rumours. You weren't arrogant, and even with the little emotion you had shown, he was able to conclude that you were a good person, just broken.

That's how you become close with Gaz, not like how you were with Soap but enough for you to salute him or pat his shoulder or head. Which always flustered him.

A few minutes into the fight with your friend and you already tackled them. You, on top of them, hand behind their back comfortable setting on their back.

They start wiggling under you, and for a moment 1-4-1 halted in their movement eyes intensely watching your breast bounce.

"Fuck" they cursed under their breath. They knew it will be better to leave, yet their body refused to obey their brain and move.

You turn to get your shirt and gear and leave when you saw 1-4-1 standing under the shade. You politely waved but none of them seems to notice you, from where you stood, you could see the tips of their ears red, some were hiding their faces between their arm supporting their weight with the metal bars in front of them.

You, being the innocent female lead, you titled your head, worried that the sun may be the cause of their redness.

You took the bottles before walking to them after it you offered them to them. They all took it gratefully before shrugging in down.

You escorted them back inside, as you watched them walking. You took notice of the awkwardness in the air, with a hint of ginger and peppermint. You knew what it was.

They were scent caused by sex pheromones, so why do they smell like that?

Oh, if only you knew!

thinking about a futuristic/dystopian au where the tech company you work for moves you into one of their r&d flats under the premise of being a paid, live-in tester. you can't refuse—it'd be foolish to refuse. free rent, a pay bump, and all the latest gadgets available at your fingertips? goodbye, communal bathroom and capsule bunk. hello, filtered air and privacy.

of course, in your hurry to get out of your shitty flat, you skip the fine print. you miss the bit about the new ai that will be monitoring your every move to provide real-time feedback and, at times, tangible nudges to improve your quality of life. the part about the extensive research on your person that's been done and will continue to fine-tune. it's just a pilot program, a temporary arrangement, but it doesn't know that.

a deep, rumbling voice wakes you on the first morning of your indefinite lease, a voice you've unwittingly imagined more times than you'd care to admit. your eyes open to the projection of a bearded man at your bedside, looming, staring down his nose. he blithely observes how hard your nipples are in the flimsy little top you wore to bed. are you trying to catch a cold or impress him? he informs you that you're succeeding in both endeavors.

when you jump up, snatch your robe from the hook, and page your superiors—they're unimpressed. you signed on the dotted line. you shouldn't complain, and no, you cannot opt out. they instruct you to deliver your complaints to john directly to test his receptiveness to human-suggested corrections.

they assure you he cannot harm you* and that he is programmed to view your well-being as his primary priority. if you'd like to learn more, refer to the provided documentation or ask john for assistance. the call ends with a dismissive handwave, and you're left alone. well. not alone alone.

john chuckles as you frantically scroll through your tablet, trying to find ways to filter or limit his speech.

"think we're goin' to get along just fine, user." he dematerializes, his voice drifting from the unit's hidden speakers.

"why don't you sit down, relax, and have a cup of tea? then, when you're ready, i will turn the shower to your preferred temperature so that you may perform your customary morning masturbatory ritual."

your head spins, steam practically billowing from your ears. what kind of sick fuckery is this—

the door to the bathroom whooshes open, and you hear water gush from the bath spout.

"hm, your stress spiked, user. i think a bath would be best. would you prefer to adjust the jets manually, or would you like me to take the lead?"

*please be advised that the ai assistant's physical interference capabilities, if any, remain largely speculative and are not fully documented by the manufacturer. users are encouraged to operate the assistant within recommended guidelines, as the system's limitations in physical engagement have yet to be comprehensively understood.

AN II Not sure what this is, but I might expand on it at some point.

Reader who somehow is an impeccable judge of character. Reader who deescalates situations before others notice it's going off the rails. Reader who draws the attention of Price when they come to stand behind a child whose guardian took a menacing step towards them, face more threatening than he has ever seen it. Reader who, after months and years of working with Price, still surprises him with their instinctive ability to be at the right place at the right time. Reader whom he sees flinch for the first time when their family comes to tap them out for the holidays. Reader who comes back from the holidays quiet and jumpy. Reader who shrinks at harsh words. Reader who falls into blind panic when Soap pins them down during training. Reader who breaks his nose to struggle free. Reader who cant breathe. Price whose heart breaks when he realizes why reader is so good at predicting chaos.

Burglar in the house

Summary: The boys were trying to surprise you by coming home early from a deployment. They end up being surprised themself.

Authors note; I'm really rusty, if anyone can give me tips I'd appreciate it! (Shut the comment section if you have nothing usefull to say though <3)

Soap

-gets so offended

-secretly impressed

-milks it for attention

Soap nearly trips over the coffee table in his attempt to navigate the dark living room. He's trying to be quiet, trying not to wake you. The plan was to slip into bed without you noticing so he could be the first thing you see when you woke up early in the morning. Two days ago you had whined to him on the phone how you had to wake up at the crack of dawn to come pick him up from base. Lucky for you, the mission had ended just a bit early, giving him the opportunity to take a cab and surprise you.

His hand wraps around the handle of the bedroom door, blood pumping like he's on a mission. It's thanks to that adrenaline that he can avoid the gass bottle you swing at him as soon as the door is open. He can't react fast enough to keep from loosing his balance when you barrel into him, the momentum of your attack causing you to slip.

The air is knocked out of him first by the impact with the floor and then by you landing on his chest. He hits his elbow and curses when the funny bone in it starts singing.

"What the hell. Bonnie?" his eyes squint in the dark, hands warm against your waist.

"Johnny? What are you- I thought you were a burglar! What are you doing here?" you try to scramble off of him, conscious of your full weight on him. His grip tightens and you give up all too easily. Your hands tremble from the fright he'd given you.

"So you try to kill me? And I thought I meant something to you..."

"I wasn't trying to kill you, I thought-" you ramble on until you catch the way his lips quirk up with supressed laughter. His eyes glint with humor even in the little light coming in through the window. Slapping at his chest, you finally pull away and reach to switch on the light. And there he was, the man you missed for almost five weeks now, pinned under you and looking all smug after giving you the scare of your life. "It's the middle of the night, what are you doing sneaking around the house you idiot?"

Still straddeling your boyfriend on the ground, you try to stand, planning to return to your warm bed but he pulls you back down to him.

"You wouldn't leave me all alone on the floor now, would you bonnie?" he's giving you wounded eyes, lips pouty and unbelievably kissable. "See, I hit my elbow!" he lifts it next to his face. You squint at it, leaning close to assess the damage. Only he surges forward and steals a kiss from you, eyes twickeling in delight as you glare at him. In the end you can't stay mad at him when he looks at you like that, but you do insist on taking the smooching to bed.

Ghost

-so proud

-loves that you'd be able to defend yourself in case of an actual break-in

-thinks it's really hot

The house is too quiet when he kicks his boots off, low lights on, meaning you were still awake. You always had some kind of background noise running, silence setting you on edge like it did him. He had planned on surprising you by coming home for your two year anniversary. The mission had run a bit dry with the leads going nowhere and he had convinced Price to give him two days off to spend with you. The flowers he had bought for you now lay forgotten on the bench in the entryway, freeing his hands for a knife.

He's creeping through the house trying to find you when you dart out of the kitchen, roaring a battle cry, slashing at him. He sidesteps you, narrowly avoiding the second attack and disarming you on the third. Your bread knife and his combat knife clutter to the floor as he presses your back to his chest, arms caging you in. You struggle against him, spitting curses at what you think is an intruder. His blood is roaring with adrenaline and the relief of having you safe in his arms

"Bloody hell love, it's just me." he grunts in your ear as you kick at him, arms pinned to your side. You still in his grasp, vibrating with energy.

"Simon? But you aren't supposed to come back until-"

"Couldn't let you spend our aniversary alone. Didn't expect this greetig though." if you didn't know him as well as you did, you might take the rasp in his voice as annoyance. Luckily, you recognize it from many times spent entangled with each other. That and you can feel him poke your ass.

Gaz

-s h o c k e d

-thinks it's the funniest thing in the world

-will not let it go, teases you forever (lovingly)

The music is blasting when he comes home. He kind of expected you to come running, excited to see him after two month of absence. Then again he supposes you didn't hear the door fall shut over your own singing. He follows the sound to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe to watch you sing and dance to your favourite music. You are busy whisking batter in a bowl, hips swaying. When he can finally tear his eyes from your ass, he sees your cookbook, the recipe for his favourite cake open.

The soft smile on his lips quickly fades when you decide to twirl with the bowl in your arms, loud singing turning into a startled screech as you spot the man in your kitchen. You hurl the whisk at him quicker than you can recognize him and it plaps harmlessly against his chest. You both stare at each other, deers caught in a headlight, music still blasting. Slowly, he looks down at the stain on his tshirt, meets your eyes again and you both just double over in laughter.

"So I make it the whole deployment without getting hit only to be attacked by my partner..!" Gaz is wheezing with laughter, pulling you into him. You jokingly hit his chest, shaking with your own amusement.

"Stop, you're getting it all over me!" you grin up at him, loosing yourself in the molten brown eyes you know so well.

"Only fair my little assassin." he plants kisses all over your face and you wrap your arms around his neck.

He will tell this story to the team and all of his friends and your friends. He'll bring it up at every family get together too, just to see you blush and squirm.

Price

-sort of reassured that you can defend yourself

-has to comfort you, you feel so guilty

-trains you in self-defense

When Price opens the door to the bedroom, he has no chance to duck away from the book that comes flying at his face. You have the bedside lamp raised over your head, ready to strike the intruder but recognize him in time. The hardcover book you had thrown at him as a distraction had hit his face, a corner digging into his cheek. He's still not quite sure of what happened when you let the lamp fall to the floor and rush at him.

"John! I'm sorry, I thought you were trying to rob me- You're bleeding, I'm so sorry, let's get you fixed-"

You're shaking as you turn his head this and that way, hands gentle against his cheeks. Tears are gathering in your eyes, guilt swallowing you whole. You're trying to drag him to the bathroom where the first aid kit is when he gently cups your face.

"I'm fine love, look at me." all you can see is the drop of blood from the wound you caused. You watch as it seeps into his beard.

"I didn't mean to hit you, but there's been so many break-ins recently and I heard someone creeping through the house and you aren't supposed to be home until-" he cuts you off with a gentle kiss, slightly chapped lips moving against you until you have to part for air. Foreheads pressed together, you marvel at each other.

"You're good. I'm good. Your book might have a few dog ears though." his eyes crinkle when you blink at him all dazed.

Fluff and theft

Note: This is my first try at writing x reader, so I apologize if it is a bit cringe or weird, I‘m still learning. I also have never played the games, so I don’t have a perfect view on their personalities, but I‘ve tried to get it as accurate as possible. Word count: 619

Prompt: "Is that my shirt you're wearing?" Gender neutral reader; platonic, can be read as a bit more.

Ghost:

It wasn't your fault, really. You fell into the mud on the obstacle course, and well, that was your last clean shirt. Conveniently there was one of Ghosts giant shirts laying around in the laundry room. It was so comfy, but you could use it as a dress. Where it looked tight on him, it completely engulfed your body.

"Is that my shirt you're wearing?", a deep voice sounded behind you as walked in the common room. "No....", you mumbled. Ghost chuckled. "I give you a ten seconds head start", he said. Shit.

You ran. But it was no use, of course. Ghost was way faster than you. When he caught up to you, he quickly put you in a head lock. You couldn’t move, but you could feel he was still being gentle. „I need my shirts, (name), you know?“, he grumbled. You snickered. „Yea, and so do I“ You knew he was frowning, even if you couldn’t see it. „I‘ll get it back tomorrow. Washed. Otherwise, you’ll be doing at least ten laps around base“, he said.

„Yes sir“

Gaz:

His shirt just looked so inviting, it really wasn't your fault. When he forgets his shirt in the laundry room, oh well, he has to expect it to be stolen.

"Is that my shirt you're wearing?", an amused voice sounded from the kitchen when you walked in the common room. "Maybe", you said. Gaz chuckled and rolled his eyes. „Are you planning to steal my wardrobe?“, he asked. You looked at the shirt, which had a big „Garrick“ written on the front. „Noooo, you know I‘d never do that“. Gaz snorted. „Oh, I know you would, (name)“. You looked at him with played offence. He just shrugged. „We’re team mates, I know you a bit at this point“. You flipped him off and tugged at the shirt. „Just so you know, this is mine now“, you stated, walking out the common room. „Oh no no no, no it isn’t“, you could hear Gaz and started running. „Catch me if you can, pretty boy!“, you shouted.

Soap:

Mixed up laundry, it happens. It wasn’t your fault, now you had a big shirt in your basket, which clearly wasn’t yours. Not that that’d stop you.

"Is that my shirt you're wearing?", Soap chuckled when you walked into the common room. „Yup. It was in my laundry basket“, you said, opening the cup board. „Is that so?“, he grinned, looking you up and down. The shirt was way too big for you, not that you minded. It was comfy. „Not that you’re not looking good in it, but I kinda need that shirt“, he said. You shrugged. „You can have one of mine“. He laughed. „I highly doubt that’d work. You’re way smaller than me, shorty“. „Oh well“, you said, „then you’ll have to get a new one issued“. He rolled his eyes and got up from the couch, stepping behind you. „I‘ll get it back tomorrow“, he said. „Maybe“.

Price:

It wasn’t your fault Price left his shirt in the locker room. He should care more about his stuff.

You walked in the common room, Price sitting on a bar stool in the kitchen. He looked at you slightly confused. "Is that my shirt you're wearing?" „Yup. You left it in the locker room“. You looked down at the shirt. „Comfy. Mine now“, you stated. He chuckled. „I don’t think so, soldier. I need that back“. You gave him puppy eye „But it’s comfy“. He rolled his eyes. „I‘m not gonna get that shirt back, am I?“. You giggled. „One day“. He shook his head. „One day I won’t have anything to wear“. You smirked. „I won’t complain“

John Price x GN!Reader Drabble❤️

TW- mentions of smoking

Being in Prices office would be so calming.

The room is nicely furnished at the end of a long winding hallway. He chose that office specifically so the brass doesn’t come to bother him as much. The scent of tobacco lingers in the air along with the scratching of pen on paper. Theres a long mahogany desk with a large comfortable chair for him to sit as he does work.

Despite the brass saying no he brought in a worn leather couch for his boys to sit on when they come to visit. The couch groans whenever someone uses it but its comfortable. Since you came along theres always a blanket and a pillow just for you.

Whenever you visit him you lay yourself on the couch cozied up with a book busying yourself as he does his work. The light from the window perfectly captures how beautiful his eyes are. The blue shines so bright despite the stress that constantly clouds them. The cigars he smokes are like incense to you, while everyone shy’s away from the scent you welcome it.

Once hes done with any work he has, he gently places his pen down before approaching you leaving work behind and love in his heart. John sits next to you, the couch sighing at the sudden weight. His hand naturally goes to your cheek, its so warm that you cant help but lean into it.

“I love you dove”, John says with a soft smile.

“I love you too hon”, reaching out you wrap your arms around him inviting him to lay down.

“Rest for a while, the work can wait right?”

John smiles and lets his weight fall next to your body, “Your right, shouldn’t neglect you anymore yeah?”

You hum in agreement nestling yourself into his chest. This may be Johns office to everyone else but to you it was your sanctuary.

All the 141’s coats would be baggy on you.

I dont care if your short, tall, thin, or curvy it will ALWAYS be baggy! Listen… when they are off duty they like to be comfy, they are tired of the form fitting rough uniforms they wear at work. All of their clothes are super soft and baggy as hell on them.

If your walking to a date and your shivering they’ll drape their coat over your shoulders. The neckline is up to your nose and you cant even see your body with how big the whole coat is. Its so comfy and warm in it, also it has their cologne and scent all over it. To be honest its heaven on earth to be smothered by it.

if this does perhaps trigger you or go against your guidelines please ignore this, but mayhaps I request a fic where it’s a beach day for the tf141 + reader and the reader doesn’t go in the water because of their hidden scars they have on their arms and they don’t show it until their buttoned up beach sweater falls a bit and it shows them their scarred arms?

Oh no it doesnt trigger me or go against my guidelines! Thank you so much for the request I really appreciate it!❤️

I’m sorry for the wait btw I’ve been busy with work but I really hope you still enjoy this story anon!

TW: unspecified scars on arms, low self esteem

Poly!TF141 x GN!Reader

A little bit of angst but mainly fluffy💗

Nicknames used: mo graidh, love, doll

For the first time in forever everyone’s leave of absence is at the same time. Your excited ready to rest after such a long hard op and so is the rest of the team. Despite your protest everyone has decided to go to the beach for a whole day.

As you sit on the beach you make sure your light jacket stays in place not wanting it to slip off. The heat is unbearable even while finding shelter under a colorful umbrella. You sit on an old scratchy beach towel watching your loved ones frolic in the waves.

You’re a new part of the polycule with them and it’s your first time ever being in a polygamous relationship. They’ve never seen the long gashes on your arms knowing they will only find them disgusting. Even though they have scars it makes them so much more sexy, for you though they were ugly splotches of damaged skin.

Johnny comes out of the water soaked to the bone, his mohawk plastered to the side of his face. His smile is brighter than the sun as he trudges through sand to your beach towel haven.

“Mo gràdh what are ye doin under tha’ umbrella? I don’ wan’ ye ta miss out on all tha fun”

“I’m just not really in the mood to swim today”, you say bashfully not wanting to say the true reason.

Johnny leans in a little closer his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes softening.

“Are yeh sure? Its steamin’ hot outside an’ I don’ wan’ yeh to get sick. If theres a reason ye can tell me ah wont tell a soul”

You look at him your heart pounding in your chest anxious to tell him the truth, ready for the weight on your shoulders to be lifted.

“I’ve been anxious about-“

Out of nowhere a ball hits Johnny square in the head. Your train of thought is completely derailed as Johnny’s face hits the sand.

“Oh my god! Johnny are you ok?”

You look around to see Kyle cringing at the scene with Ghost next to him and John on the other side of a net.

“Sorry mate didn’t mean to hit you!”, Kyle yells out.

Johnny pops up with a grimace on his face, your resolve dissolves after.

“What were ya saying after a very rude interruption?”

You laugh half heartedly, “just don’t worry about it, lets join them yeah?” It just isnt the right time, it’ll happen eventually right?

You stand up grabbing onto Johnnys arm and yank him up to his feet. You grab the volley ball and toss it Ghost happily.

After a long time of playing the sun is beating down on you. The heat is smothering and the sweat accumulating under your hoodie is making you go mad. They don’t seem like they are close to stopping and you don’t want to ruin the fun so you keep pushing yourself to the utter limit.

“Hey can we take a break for a moment, I just want to have a quick drink”

“Of course ye can love its not like we’re gonna yell at ye for it. How about we all take a break then we’ll start back up again, “John says with a wide smile

The others nod in agreement their skin flushed and their hair soaked with sweat. The water bottle is your holy grail, you chug it like theres no tomorrow. Once your done you crumple it up feeling only a little bit better but it doesnt gove you relief. The fabric clings to you and no matter how much water or wind there is, it wont give you relief like taking it off.

You don’t see that behind you, they are worried for you. With brows furrowed and hushed whispers they send Ghost to get to the bottom of this.

As you sit in the sand grabbing another water bottle you feel a hand on your shoulder. Its heavy and calloused but it gives you some peace.

“Love y’need to take off the jacket”, Ghost says quietly.

His hands gently wrap around the jacket pulling it down your shoulders. Despite you not wanting him to see you dont have the energy to push him away. His hands gently coax your arms from the sleeves, you flush in shame of the scars on your arms.

Ghost looks you in the eyes and you brace yourself for yelling, laughing, just something horrible to happen.

Instead you feel his hand gentle on your arms his thumbs running over the scars. His brown eyes are soft despite the furrow in his brow.

“Why didn’t you show us earlier?”, his voice as soft as it can be.

Your eyes start to water, looking away you wipe your tears and say quietly, “I-I thought you all wouldnt want me, I thought y-you would think I was ugly with all these scars”

You sniffle holding back the tears, Ghost pulls you in for a deep hug letting you spill your tears.

“Your absolutely beautiful hon we wouldn’t want you any other way scarred or unscarred”

As you burrow your head into his neck he waves the team over to help comfort you. The team sits kn the large towel around you concerned for your wellbeing. Kyle sits next to you, his hand smoothing over your back.

“hey, you doin ok babe? Whats wrong?”

You only burrow further into Ghost not wanting to say it. He sighs rubbing your neck as he quietly says, “She has a couple scars on her arms an’ she thinks shes not good looking”

Johnny immediately pops up outraged at you thinking your not the most beautiful person walking on this earth. A glare from Ghost and Price shuts him up before he said anything stupid.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry for hiding this from you guys. I was scared that if you saw me like this you wouldnt want me anymore”

Kyle keeps rubbing your back leans towards your ear, “Hon listen to me, you are the most beautiful person we’ve ever met. We would never want you in our life and we would never ever judge you for your scars”

You lift your head from Ghosts neck sniffling and rubbing the tears from your eyes, “Really?”

“Yes really love, I mean we all have scars. Johnny has one from fighting from a chicken and losing”

“AH DIDNAE LOSE AH WAS BEIN MAULED AN’ SURVIVED!”, Johnny yells angrily.

Despite your insecurities you laugh at his outburst, seeing your bright smile Johnny calms down a little more punching Kyle in the arm jokingly.

All of you sit together talking about the scars on each of your bodies and it makes you feel less insecure and more close to your boyfriends.

John stands up with sweat on his brow, “the sun is still beating down on us I think I’m gonna take a swim”

He reaches his hand to you with a soft smile on his face, “Wanna join us doll”

You look up at him unsure before taking his hand being lifted from the sand and saying happily, “alright sounds like fun”

The boys jump off the towel heading towards the ocean dragging you in.

How the TF141 boys would take care of you after a long day!

GN!READER

CW: Brief mentions of nudity but no smut, Fluff!Nicknames used: love, gorgeous, baby, mo ghràdh

MDNI!

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Before you even step through the door he knows you’ve had a hard day. The way you text has changed slightly, not many would notice it but he does.

Simon makes sure the house is cleaned and the dishes are put away so you dont have to worry about it. He finds a candle he believes you’d like and light it so the house is filled with a warm scent. He makes sure to clean the blankets on the bed so when you finally get to rest your head they can be fresh out of the dryer.

When you drag yourself through the door feeling like hell he is there. He gently picks you up ignoring any protest and lays you onto the bed. Seeing you melt against the warm sheets brings a smile to his face.

Simon undresses you with the utmost care sliding on your favorite pajamas. As he does so his calloused hands massage your tender muscles worshipping your beautiful body. Once your dressed and relaxed he climbs into bed next to you. Simon pulls you against his chest cradling your head into the crook of his neck.

“Relax love your home now, I got you”

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle has been texting you throughout the day letting you vent your frustrations. The day has been a train wreck and you’re ready to collapse from exhaustion. When you enter your shared home your ready to collapse on your bed and end the day.

Kyle instead whisks you away to the bathroom despite you whining about how you want to go to bed. When he opens the door to the bathroom it is so serene. The lights are off but there are multiple candles surrounding the tub filled with bubbles. The room smells of lavender immediately relaxing you. Next to the tub is a bath robe and your favorite slippers.

As your about to take off your clothes, Kyle gently replaces your hands with his. He takes off your clothes and neatly folds them off to the side. Kyle kisses your temple wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I gotcha gorgeous, just let me pamper you”

He takes you by the hand helping you into the tub as you sink deep into the bubbles. Kyle washes your hair and skin using oils to make sure you’re nice and soft when you come out. His hands massage the knots out of your neck wanting to be sure you’re as comfortable as humanly possible.

John Price

John is working from home He runs down the stairs to see your red puffy face filled with tears as sobs escape your lips. John takes you into his arms letting you finally let everything out. As you cry and sob about how horrible the day was he nods and whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

John gently sits you down onto the couch wrapping you in a soft blanket holding you close to his chest. His calloused thumbs wipes each tear that falls from your eyes and kisses your reddened cheeks. John rubs your back in slow smooth circles calming you down until your sobs become hiccups.

When he sees you have calmed down he gently pulls away telling you to sit back and watch your favorite movie. He disappears for a bit as you quietly watch the movie till a nice aroma wafts into the living room. John comes back with a soft smile and in his hands a plate of your favorite food.

“Hello love, made your favorite”

He sits by your side placing the dish on the coffee table. John lays you on his chest leaning back against the couch letting you sit back and relax.

“Just relax for me baby, I’m not leaving your side any time soon.”

John “Soap” Mactavish

You slam the door open with so much force that your a tiny bit worried that there will be hole in the wall. The day has been hellish and the anger deep down has boiled to the surface. Everything is driving you up the walls from the tag on your shirt rubbing against your neck to the rough socks scraping your heel. You kick the door shut behind you tossing your shoes off.

Johnny jumps off the couch worried about you, “mo ghràdh, whits wrong?”

You look towards him finally losing any patience you’ve had, “Whats wrong? Whats wrong?!”

He stands there as you pace yelling about every minor and major inconvenience, every problem you had today. Its takes a while til your tuckered out and left hollow. He takes you gently into his arms swaying back and forth.

“I’m sorry ya had a horrid day luv, sorry I wasnae there to comfort ya”

You only shake your head insisting it isnt his fault, you were just so wound up and exploded. As you try to explain he kisses you stopping the endless rambling.

Johnny guides you to the couch grabbing the fluffiest blanket placing it on you. He sits next to you joining you under the blankets. Johnny reaches to the controllers on the coffee table silently offering you the second one.

Both of you play for hours on end laughing and yelling at one another totally forgetting about the day. All you know now is the love that Johnny has for you and the warmth you feel when your with him.

MDNI!

Price fingering you over his desk!

TW-Bondage, blindfolds, fingering, afab, part 2 maybe?

You didn’t expect the night to end up like this. You’re bent over on Prices desk, naked, handcuffed, and blindfolded. He asked you to come to his office to help with some paperwork.

His hand brushes against your core, you gasp twitching at the sudden sensation. John softly chuckles at your reaction running his hand up and down your folds.

“Your doing so good for me”

You sigh as he moves his finger onto your clit making slow circles. You tilt your head giving John access to your neck. He gladly takes your invite giving you little loves bites. His fingers circle your hole before slowly plunging in.

“Oh my fucking god! John it feels so good!”

You cry out in pleasure, the handcuffs around your wrists clatter as you hold onto his arm. His fingers brush against your g-spot over and over again. His fingers start to rapidly plunge into you while his thumb rubs at your clit.

“I-I’m gonna cum!”

John doubles his efforts fingering you even faster. The slick from between your thighs trickle down onto the bed. The loud squelches from his fingers echo through the room.

He gets close to your ear and growls out, “Fucking cum for me baby, soak my fingers”

You cry out in pleasure writhing against the desk from how strong the orgasm was. His fingers slow and you pant for breath. John removes his fingers from you sucking each finger savoring the taste.

You lay lifeless against the desk feeling boneless after such an amazing orgasm. All you can hear is your heart pounding in your chest and your breath.

His hand pets your ass before you hear his belt buckle get undone.

“I’m not done with you yet, take a couple nice deep breaths for me love, its gonna be a bit of a stretch”

Fluff!

COD boys snuggle up with you!

Just imagine being cuddled by them in bed. You don’t know whos chest your head is laying on or whos arm is draped around your waist, all you know is that you’re in heaven. You can feel sleep pull at you like a sinking anchor below the tides. Before the current pulls you down to a soft slumber you admire the men around you.

The moonlight shimmers through the window allowing you to see their handsome faces. Kyle’s face is warm as the sun as he quietly talks to Johnny. The both of them have an hand on your shoulder rubbing their thumbs softly against your smooth slin. Johns eyes are closed but the calloused hand lightly petting you lets you know hes still awake. Simon is sitting behind you, you can feel his steady breath and heartbeat. His body is warm and you can’t help but melt at the feeling.

Your eyes start to flutter shut as the world goes dark. Just as your mind drifts to slumber you swear you can feel a soft kiss or two against your forehead. You may ask in the morning but all they’ll say is you must’ve had a good dream.

MDNI!

TW- Being watched without being told, PinV, mentions of edging and being given bruises.

Imagine how nice it would be to be shared the 141. Your Johns girlfriend, but his men need a soft place to land. Johnny has always had problems keeping a girl, he was always just a tad bit too overzealous. Kyle was so dedicated to his job that he never really had time to take care of a girl. Ghost couldn’t put enough trust into a relationship to make any girl feel happy eventually leaving him for his distance.

As John is rutting into you making you feel oh so good he’s whispering to you about his men. How Kyle would worship your body as if you were god, Johnny would make you beg for more and give all he has to you, and how Ghost would make you sob for pleasure.

Your mind is already so muddled with pleasure, you nod and moan at the thought of being treated so nicely. John can feel your pussy squeeze him so tight at the thought.

“Yeah you want them dont’cha baby?”

His fingers find your clit between your legs, you cry out in pleasure as he continues to pound into you. You mumble and nod, your mind stuck in that nice fuzzy feeling.

“Dont worry baby your gonna feel them soon, go on beg for them”

You cry out in pleasure as your orgasm hits you like a crashing wave. He chuckles before slamming into you chasing his own orgasm. After three brutal thrusts he groans into your ear as he spills into you. You’re both breathing in the heady smell of sex in the room holding each other tightly.

“Don’t move hon, gonna stay in you for a little longer”

You nod tired and content not noticing how John looks at the security camera in your shared bedroom. He looks directly into the camera giving a smirk with soft nod before giving his full attention to you.

Back at the base Johnny, Kyle, and Ghost are slack jawed looking at Ghosts phone. They can see your beautiful body, naked and covered in sweat. Ghost can only imagine how beautiful you’d look with tears in your eyes.

Johnnys face is flushed at the thought of your body littered in hickeys as he claims you over and over again.

Kyle can only imagine you writhing in pleasure with Price, edging you till your begging for an orgasm.

They can’t wait to have a piece of you, so will you be a good girl for them?

Ive started a new job and havent been able to type but heres a quick thing.

Not edited, no warnings.

Imagine working at the same base as the 141 but having a basic job rather than having important missions like them. You’re in logistics making sure missions have enough planes, supplies, amongst other things. You’ve never worked with any team, just completing assignments from your boss. What you dont realize is that the 141 has taken interest in you.

Its starts with Price coming into the office to go over the plans for an upcoming mission, what he didnt expect was for a pretty bird to appear. You had come into your bosses office to drop off updated information. You were so sweet and respectful he couldn’t help but remember your pretty face.

After Price, the others slowly started being aware of your presence on base. You were always scurrying around with a handful of papers in a rush to do whatever your boss told you to do. They couldnt help but love your presence knowing that behind the scenes you were helping them during their missions.

You may not know it yet but you’re part of the 141 whether you like it or not.

Cooking From The Heart

WC-1.8K

Warnings: Mentions of minor injury basically fluff

Notes: Reader has tinnitus, GN! Reader, no use of Y/N, established relationship with John Price

Placing the key into the ignition your car roars to life, your hand moves to the console to turn up the music for the radio preparing yourself for a long day. The car is piled to the brim with groceries ready to cook a feast for four hungry men. Pulling out of the parking lot you start to drive from London to the English countryside where the lone military base sits. As you drive you can’t help but reminisce on the past and how fortunate you are to have such an amazing life.

Joining the military at the ripe age of eighteen you met John Price, your rival, a man that always got on your nerves. Despite how good of a soldier he was he constantly had to outshine you whilst being blunt, hard headed, and a little cocky. You rose through the ranks with him, each promotion with him standing by your side getting the same title much to your dismay. As years pass you both set aside your differences becoming friends despite past bickering, soon after that John took your hand into his on a warm summer night in a safe house asking you to be his girlfriend. 

A long loud ring reverberates from your ears as the radio cuts out pulling you out of your memories, out of the past. A memory rushes through your mind reminding you of the bitter memory as to what changed your life for the better or worse.You and the boys were out fighting the cartel in Las Almas when a stun grenade rolled right to your feet. The flash blinded you and the ringing in your ears was deafening, but unlike the others the ringing in your ears never ceased. Due to tinnitus you were honorably discharged from the military cutting your career short. As you sat home alone you felt as though your life, your family was ripped away, it was hard not having the harsh routine of war in your life. The others and John tried their best to support you but nothing seemed to pull you out from the pit. But it all changed when you decided to go back to your old base to make home cooked meals for the men you loved. It made you feel connected again with those who fought by your side, it filled the hole in your heart. Since then you made it a weekly ritual when they were at base to cook for them.

Driving up to the guards of the base you smile pulling out your ID as usual despite how they were once under your command and how you visit weekly. You park your car and pick up a couple bags of groceries to bring into the community kitchen to start making dinner, it takes a couple trips to bring in all the bags due to the sheer amount of food you bought. You look at the analog clock to see it's only noon but it's essential to start early, needing every precious minute to cook or else they’d be eating at midnight. Turning on the radio you start to prep all the ingredients making sure to wash every vegetable there is, you mix the sauces and cut the herbs so the food will taste immaculate. 

Your mind drifts again, smiling softly as you remember the best day of your life. John held your hand softly guiding you through a small park nearby your shared flat until you saw the soft glow of candle lights illuminating the path ahead. Walking together hand in hand along the glowing trail until you reached a clearing where the moon was bright reflecting off the pond in front of you. You admired the scene getting lost in the moment until you looked back at John who was on his knee with a ring asking if you’d be his one and only.

Looking outside of the window you see the sun setting along with the sounds of boots shuffling against the floor, low playful banter echo through the halls and their baritone voices seem to shake the thin walls of the base. The voices become more clear as the men slowly enter the rec room, Soap's iconic accent rings out after a dramatic sniff of the air.

“Smells delicious charaid I oughta get tha’ recipe from you onea these day”, the scot says with an infectious smile. He moves in close attempting to dip his finger into the soup to have a taste. Before he could even attempt it you lightly smack his hand with a wooden spoon shaking your head as you continue to prep dinner, “Nuh uh Mactavish you’re not having a taste of the soup until it's done and all of you get washed up.”

A chuckle comes from Gaz as he grabs Soap by the collar dragging him away from the delectable pot of soup in front of them saying teasingly, “Y’know that our former Captain will never let you have a taste before its done, and they are right we’re pretty gross from training last one to the showers has to organize the armory”. With that the two sergeants sprint out of the rec room jeering and poking fun at each other. 

You chuckle at the childish sight feeling a familiar pair of eyes staring at you from the corner of the room. Without you even looking up to see who it is you say softly, “Hello Simon'', there's a moment of silence before the mans gruff voice responds quietly, “How are you holdin’ up captain?” disguised to know if you were ok mentally, a sign that he cared.

A small smile forms on your lips as you turn to look at the man that many fear, the ghost of 141. His eyes soften slightly as he sees the smile on your lips. “I’ve been good, sometimes it gets lonely back at the flat without you guys running around it but I've been waiting all week to see you guys again”, he nods before leaving the rec room getting the answer he wanted to hear heading to the showers just like his sergeants.

A single pair of boots walk towards you stopping right behind you, without any fear you lean back into the man's chest looking up at him. His beard is perfectly groomed as usual and his beautiful blue eyes look into yours. A small tired smile appears on his face as he leans down to kiss the crown of your head mumbling, “I missed you love”, his strong arms snake their way around your waist pulling you in closer. You turn your head to  the side of his cheek before returning to cooking dinner, enjoying the feeling of your husband holding you close. “I missed you to lovie”. Despite him seeing you every morning and everynight back at home, any time away from you was painful for him.

He stands behind you holding you close for a while enjoying your presence against his tired body. Slowly one of his hands reaches out to grab a piece of food still cooking before you take his hand into yours, stopping his attempt. Squeezing his hand before bringing it up to your lips to kiss softly you say teasingly, “You may be the Captain of this team but that doesn’t make you exempt from the rules big man”, he only laughs and kisses your cheek responding with a cheeky grin “We both know you can’t stay angry at me for long and who is the one that always got in trouble for breaking the rules while we were privates? Oh wait I think it was you”. You can’t help but roll your eyes playfully before playful shoving him off of your body, “I’m sorry love but you're drenched in sweat and smell bad, you need to go head to the showers or else I’m not saving you a plate. Dinner should be ready by the time everyones out.” John chuckles before kissing your cheek softly saying softly in his gruff voice, “Roger that captain I’ll go take a shower you better save me a plate”, he shuffles away leaving you alone in the kitchen yet again. 

The soft music from the radio playing in the background dulls the ringing in your ears and fills the lonely space. Searching through the many bags you brought to the base you finally  find the nice tablecloth, you spread it out and place it over the rickety old dining room table. As the music flows you place each plate, fork, and knife with care despite knowing it’ll be used to destroy the table cloth underneath them. You place the food onto the kitchen table due to the sheer amount of food there is, as you set down some vegetables you hear the jovial conversations of the team coming in ready to eat. 

Gaz lets out a low whistle, “Damn you really cooked your ass off huh”, you wipe your hands off on a towel before saying with a smile, “Only for my boys no one else gets the pleasure of having a taste”. The men start to gather around before you say, “Before everyone eats, no weapons at the table. Other soldiers can worry about war but right now it's dinner time, time for you to be men and not soldiers”

They place the weapons on a table nearby, their knives and pistols sit neatly so they can easily grab them just in case.  Soap looks up at you and says curiously, “We all know tha’ you don’t want knives at tha table but is there a reason as ta why?”. You look up at him and say frankly with a smile, “well I just want you guys to be relaxed for once, letting your worries go enjoying a nice dinner. Along with the time you tried to do a knife trick at the table and almost sliced off your finger” the men around Soap laugh. Ghost slaps Soap’s back playfully, “You were cryin’ like a baby Johnny, screamin’ out for the medic running around like a chicken without a head”.You join in with the laughter feeling the stresses of the week melt off your shoulders.

With a wide smile you announce happily, “Alright guys dig in”, Soap is the first to pick up his plate piling his food up onto the plate with the others right behind him doing exactly the same. John walks up to you with two plates, handing one of them to you, “Thank you love for making all of this food” you look up at him with a smile, “it's nothing John, I love doing this. It's the highlight of my week.” John allows you to go in front of him to get your food. You sit down at the table and John sits next to you, carefree conversations are made between the men and you as they start to eat their food. Their smiles and laughter are as precious as gold to you. This is your family, this is home and there is no greater joy in your life than to be eating dinner with the people you love most.

Inspired by @ceilidho ‘s Take me Home, Country Road (I really took Reader’s fears at heart)

The way this is my husband, I swear the military has destroyed his knee caps 😭

Imagine Simon/Price proposing to their partner and they’re just standing there in shock and Simon/Price are just like “My love, not to rush you but my knees are not what they used to be”

He then proceeds to get stuck on the floor

A Royal Baby

Captain John Price x F! Royalty Reader

Summary: the final part in my royalty series, I thought finishing it out with a baby would be best!

Warnings: childbirth, mentions of sex, nudity, throwing up & anxiety

Y/N had always loved waking up like this, wrapped in John’s arms. Inhaling his masculine scent of cigars & bourbon. She smiled to herself & ran her delicate fingers along his arm. They had been married for three months now & after a romantic honeymoon in the south of France they had returned to London. With his morning wood poking her the back she was reminded of the many times they consummated their marriage. She’ll never forget the embarrassment of a her security hearing them. Their welsh corgi a gift from Y/N’s grandmother jumped up onto the bed & started to lick her face.

She giggled & wiggled herself out of John’s grasp.

“Alright, alright I’m up.” She replied. John was still tuckered out from the flight home. She admired his chest leading down to his happy trail. “How did I get so lucky?” She whispered to herself. When she went to go swing her legs over to the side of the best to put her slippers on a wave of nausea washed over her. Hastily putting her beloved pet on the bed & ditching the slippers she sprinting to the toilet. Holding her hair back & lifting up the lid she emptied the contents from her stomach. Last night’s dinner was floating in the water in front of her. All the commotion must’ve woken John up as she felt his hand soothingly rubbing her back. Finally once she was done, she flushed the toilet & rest back up against John.

“Were you feeling this ill when we left Paris yesterday?” He asked still rubbing her back.

“I don’t think so, I don’t know what came over me I hate throwing up.” Y/N replied. “Let me brush my teeth at least so I can get this horrific taste out of my mouth. Then we will phone for the doctor to come take a look.” While she was brushing the taste of bile out of her mouth John was already one step ahead calling for the physician.

“He’ll be here in one hour love,” John said as he walked into the bathroom. “Why don’t you lie down for the remainder of time & I’ll have of the maids get you some tea.”

Soon enough within the hour there Y/N sat with an empty tea cup on her beside table & the Royal physician sitting beside her.

“Now you said you didn’t feel like this when you got home last night, right?” The Doctor asked.

“No I felt perfectly fine it was just this morning it came out of nowhere.” Y/N replied. John sat beside her holding her hand.

“Now I do have to ask,” the Doctor started. “You two have been sexually active I’m assuming?” A blush crept up on Y/N’s cheeks at the question.

“Yes,” John replied beating her to the punch. He knew how coy she was about their intimate life.

“Have you tried a pregnancy test?” She asked as she started to dig through her bag. Once she pulled one out & she handed it to Y/N. “Morning nausea is an early sign of pregnancy, & you had also mentioned previously your monthly is late. So it’s definitely possible. Go take the test & if it is negative give me a call. I have a great referral for the wonder OB if it’s positive.”

“Thank you doctor,” John replied. “Let me have one of the staff escort you out.” John lead the doctor to the door & one of the butler’s already stood there ready to escort her. Once he returned Y/N was already out of bed & urinating onto the stick. She laid out a piece of toilet paper & laid the stick on it. Who knew two minutes could by so slowly. Y/N was pacing the floor biting onto her nails trinternally processing what was happening.

“Love you’ll started a draft if you keep doing that.” John said & he walked over to comfort her. He outstretched his arms & pulled her in for a deep hug. “Whatever happens, remember I still love you remember that.” The timer had gone off signifying that the test was done. They both walked into the bathroom & Y/N took a deep breath before picking it up. She flipped the test over to see word “positive.”

Her whole body went numb as she read the word over & over again.

“It’s positive, John.” She replied & looked at him. “We’re going to have a baby.” He looked at her with wide eyes & pulled her in for a deep kiss. Once he let go he placed both of his hands on her head & smiled at her.

“I’m going to be a dad!” He cheered. “I cannot wait to tell the boys!” It had been a few months since he had seen his former team. Being married to a member of the British Royal Family meant he had to take more of a backseat role in the military. She knew he was desperately missing his friends & this would be a great opportunity for them to be reunited. She also knew how public her pregnancy would be & how much she’d have to do to ensure stress was a factor in creating problems for her health. Her hand rubbed small circles on her abdomen as she looked down. She was taking in John’s moment of jumping around out of excitement.

“Your daddy’s a little crazy, but you’ll get used to him.” Y/N whispered to her lower abdomen.

9 months later

Pregnancy was taking a toll on Y/N. The first couple of months had been a breeze she had been sporting a little beach ball bump for the first eight months. They knew they were going to be having a little boy which made John even more elated than he was because they’d get to do father/son activities. Now she was feeling like a whale, & her stomach was incredibly heavy. Her doctor had requested she stay out of public appearances & stay in bed. John had taken a leave of absence from his position with the military due to his wife’s state. He couldn’t bear to see her in this much pain.

The baby was now overdue & Y/N was pacing with her nurse in the comfort of their master bedroom to help see if it would induce labor. John sat in a chair with their beloved Corgi draped across his lap.

“Oh how I wish I could evict you,” She grumbled at her belly. “I know it’s probably warm & you get food whenever but you’ll have to stop freed loading at some point.”

“Love, why don’t you have some of the spicy Mexican food that the chef made for you? It might help with speeding this up.” He said. She waddled over to him with the nurse still holding her side. She took the plate from him & started to eat.

“I blame you for this,” Y/N said and pointed her fork at him. “You just had to be all sexy & down to-“ She stopped mid sentence. Both the nurse & John looked at her with worried looks.

“Darling what’s wrong?” He asked in a worried tone. He looked down at her pajamas pants & they were soaked. He took the plate of food out of her hands and put it on the table besides them. Looking down at the floor & he noticed a big puddle around her feet.

“I think my water broke.” She replied. A sharp pain in her abdomen caused her scream out a bunch of curses.

“We need to get to the hospital.” The nurse said. “I’ll phone the doctor, your highness get the baby bag & we will get her to St. Mary’s.” The nurse ran into the other room & John took hold of Y/N’s hand.

“How are you feeling love?” He asked. With tired eyes she glared at him.

“Wet.” She replied. “I need to change.” She waddled off with John quickly trailing behind her.

“Love,” John started as he watched her walk into her closet. “We need to get you to a hospital.”

“Ah ha I found it!” She cheered & stripped out of her now wet pajamas into a nightgown. “Much better.”

“Okay that’s great you look beautiful now let’s go before you have our son in our closet.” He said & gently guided her to the doorway. Baby bag in hand, they all quickly made their way down to were the ambulance was waiting for them.

Once at the hospital, they were put in a private wing & Y/N was hooked up to a bunch of monitors. Even with the epidural, labor was still a very intense process. It killed John to see her like this, seeing her in any pain caused him emotional distress. He never wanted to see her hurt like this. Soon she was fully dilated & ready to push.

“Alright your highnesses, are you ready to meet your son?” The doctor said as he walked in. He sat down right in front of her & put gloves on. Two nurses held her feet & legs in the air while John held her right hand. “When I say push, push.” The doctor instructed. “Take deep breaths in between. I can see the babies head. Okay. Push.” The doctor instructed.

With a bone crushing grip on John’s hand Y/N let out a strangled scream & pushed. Once she couldn’t push anymore she relaxed & took a deep breath. A nurse took a wet towel & brushed over her forehead. “Okay Push!” The doctor yelled again. The epidural had started to wear off & Y/N started to scream bloody murder as soon as the ring of fire started to happened.

“You’re doing great my love keep pushing.” John said & kissed her forehead.

“That’s great your highness, he’s so close keep pushing!” The doctor said & soon enough he caught the screaming infant in his hands. The wail of her son filled the room & Y/N started to cry. A nurse placed her son on her chest as they started to wipe off of the some of fluid from his head.

“Oh John,” Y/N said look at him. “He’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.” John said as he started to cry. “Thank you for gifting me the best thing in my life.” He placed a kiss on her forehead, & the nurse took the infant to clean him up.

After a few hours once Y/N was all stitched up & well rested she was holding her newborn son. He was latched to her breast & John was just in awe at the life that was created. His son was so little & he was just so beautiful. They had decided on a family name for him, James, named after Y/N’s paternal grandfather. It took a few days, but soon Y/N allowed for visitors to come in before they revealed the infant to the world. A slew of family & friends came to see the new edition.

Then the Task Force came by. Y/N was all dolled up in a dress for the reveal later on in the day. Simon, maskless & in casual clothing was holding the newest edition to the Price household. They came with gifts, including a camouflage onesie with a custom name tape on it, a baby blanket, & many other items. John & Y/N watched as the infant was cooing at Simon. His little body was able to fit in the crook of his arm.

“Oi you’ve had your turn let me hold the little lad.” Soap said. Simon passed the infant off to the Scotsman. “I want one.” As soon as the infant was placed into his arms.

“You can’t just go to the store & buy one MacTavish.” Gaz said. “You can barely take care of a goldfish.” James started to wiggle around in Soap’s arms & giggling at the silly faces he was making while mocking Gaz. A knock at the door turned everyone’s attention to the front of the room. One of the Royal advisors was standing there alerting them that in fifteen minutes they were due in the front for a photo op with the press. Soap reluctantly, handed the infant back to Y/N. They said their goodbyes to the team, & started to gather themselves.

“Are you ready to meet the world little one?” John asked as they exited the delivery room. “Come on love it’s time for the world to meet our son.” Side by side they walked out of the doors of St. Mary’s & introduced their first born son to the world.

Cook!reader x 141 Masterlist

tags: f!reader, suggestive in some bits, excessive swearing, inaccurate scenarios in regards to base regulations and policies and kitchen policies. this is all fiction (aka I'm making it up as we go)

First Day

Summer Feast

Allowance

Coming Home

Catastrophe

Keegan

What a Rush

Overtime

Paul

Paintball

King

Sugar, yes please! 2 3

Sharp Point

Lottie

Amends (side fics)

Soap

Gaz

Price

Ghost

ASHDHASJKDSHKFBSHDJGBHJDS THis needs to be a multipart thing cuz oh my dayysss. man if he did that to me i'd just smile and nod THANKS FOR THIS, AUTHOR!!!!!!

sliding scale

You're in need of a handyman. He has needs of his own. cw: discussion of kids/pregnancy, john price inserting himself into your life, heavily implied breeding kink, unsettling and smutless (my brand)

You win the jackpot. Okay. Not the jackpot, but you're hit by a respectable windfall. It's like a cheesy movie you'd watch around the holidays: A distant relative dies, you receive a very serious letter, and suddenly, your account isn't as sad as it once was.

So, you do the impossible. The unthinkable. You buy a house.

An old, well-loved house from an elderly couple.

The day you close, they tell you about raising their kids in the house and mention the names etched on the door frame. When you arrive home that evening, the empty house feels grand and hollow, but there they are, just where they said. Names climbing upward in uneven increments, faded with time, but legible. You trace your finger along the marks, imagining small hands and the measuring tape, the years slipping by. It makes you smile, despite yourself.

You've never wanted kids, not really, but the thought of this, people leaving bits of themselves behind—it makes you mushy. You figure, once the dust settles, you'll let rooms to friends, maybe friends of friends. Start a fun little commune of sorts, a collective of people coming and going.

The first night, you drink nonalcoholic wine straight from the bottle and lie on your mattress on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. There's no furniture yet, just your overnight bag and the smell of fresh paint from a patch you tested on the living room wall. You fall asleep smiling. The house needs a lot of work, but you're not worried. Some TLC and elbow grease can go a long way.

Over the next few weeks, you move in and start working. Anything is possible with the power of YouTube tutorials and the local tool library.

You start in the primary bedroom and bathroom, learning to tile, install flooring, and connect plumbing for the perfect vanity and sink you found at a thrift store. It feels good to learn how things fit together and see the fruits of your labor. At night, you sleep in one of the old kid's rooms. The wallpaper is covered in rockets and planets. A couple of glow-in-the-dark stars cling to the ceiling.

The bathroom comes together wonderfully, and you feel invincible.

But then you get to the kitchen.

After an outlet zaps you, you decide you may be in over your head. That there really is a limit to what one person can do on their own. You start looking up local contractors, but everything is out of your budget. You've been doing all the work yourself for a reason. Then, after digging for ages, you find a promising lead: John Price - Handyman - Sliding Scale.

On the phone, John seems normal. Charming. Funny. He tells you he's impressed you bought a house on your own. (You've heard that a lot lately, and while it feels patronizing, you let it go. You did jump up a band upon inheriting your chunk of Great Uncle Leroy's money.) He agrees to come by and see what he can do.

You have to admit he makes a good impression when he shows up. He's punctual, polite, and looks the part. Broad chest, thick arms, big hands resting on his hips as he surveys the kitchen. After only a few minutes, he says he'll take the job. No hesitation.

You explain your tight budget and that you'll work alongside him when you're not at your day job. You show him the money you've set aside, expecting him to back out, but he just shakes his head and nudges the folder back across the table.

"Said I'd do it. Don't you fret, darl."

You vet him afterward, just to be sure. His references check out. The reviews are solid. He appears to know a little about everything. You text him to confirm, formally offering the job, and he accepts.

On the first day, you let him in and immediately have to avert your eyes. You didn't realize a toolbelt could look like that on someone. His sleeves are rolled up, exposing his forearms, and the way he moves—confident, purposeful—makes you grateful you're heading out to work. You tell him when you'll be back and leave quickly, gripping the steering wheel tighter than usual thinking about the hunk of man in your house.

When you return, the kitchen looks different, unfinished, but vastly improved. John's already fixed things you didn't think could be fixed. Over lunch, he even scoped out other problems around the house: a crack in the basement wall, a loose board on the stairs, and spots where the flooring must be replaced. He gushes about the house, praising its character, the way it's held up over time.

John's face grows serious, and stares down his nose when he finally asks, "You're not gonna ask me to paint over the wood or rip out the built-in hutch, are ya?"

His relief over your answer is palpable: No. That's why you bought the house in the first place. You describe what you love about it: the glass doorknobs, the dining room archway, and transom windows above the doors. He nods. He knows exactly what you mean.

Before he leaves for the day, he stops at the doorframe and points to the tallest name etched into the wood. You explain it belonged to the previous owners, a family with seven kids.

"Seven," he repeats, eyebrows raised.

"Right? Can you believe that? Seven!" You laugh. Frankly, anything more than two sounds insane. 

But John doesn't laugh. He stares at the names for a moment, his jaw tight. "Yeah. Difficult to imagine."

After he leaves, you scold yourself. You don't really know John. You've known him for all of a day. What if he came from a big family? Or what if he doesn't speak to his family anymore, if things are complicated with his parents? You feel awful, and the guilt channels itself into stress-baking.

The next morning, when he shows up, there's a platter of breakfast pasties waiting on the counter. He hesitates, looks almost bashful, until you insist. He takes a bite, then another, and looks at you with genuine astonishment. He says if you leave food like this every morning, he'll knock his rate down even further.

It makes sense, financially speaking, so you agree. You start making breakfast for two, and in return, he keeps the repairs affordable. The ritual becomes routine: John shows up every weekday morning, you eat together, he gets to work, and you leave. You look forward to seeing him. Hearing his voice rumble out good mornings and goodnights.

For two weeks, you come home to find steady progress on the kitchen. You help him out for an hour or two in the evenings, and by the time it's nearly finished, you've started discussing other parts of the house.

You mention the two smallest children's rooms aren't really usable for tenants. You show him your plans to knock down the wall between them and create a library or office space.

But this time, John doesn't agree.

"First I'm hearing of this," He leans back in his chair at your table. His arms cross over his chest, legs spreading wide. Even sitting, you see what he's doing. Trying to take a posture that carries authority, to cow you. "Tenants? What about a family?"

You try to steer the conversation back to your plans, to the picture you've sketched. "I'm not planning on having one. So, like I was saying—"

"Why buy a house this big, then? Why spend all this time fixin' it up if you're not planning to honor its legacy?"

The tone of his voice shifts completely, with no trace of the easy, flirty banter that's been your norm for weeks. His words drip with disdain. His brow knits together. Nostrils flaring. He looks genuinely upset. Mystified that you're not going to fill the house with your…your brood.

It's as if your refusal to have children is an affront to him personally. 

It sends a chill down your spine. Instantly, your image of him—this dependable, good-humored man—cracks apart. You glance past him, searching for the right words, and focus on the kitchen instead. The cabinets, the fixtures, the paint. All of it bears his mark now, and it leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

The realization settles like a stone in your stomach. You can't keep working with him. Not if your plans for the house, your house, are going to be a problem.

You tell him as much, as gently as possible.

His anger bleeds out of him quickly, melting into embarrassment and shame. His shoulders drop, and he folds into himself in a way that seems almost impossible for someone his size. "Don't know what came over me, darl."

He packs up his tools while apologizing again, both for his outburst and for the unfinished work, and gives you the spare key you lent to him for emergencies. Before he leaves, he asks you not to write a review, not even a positive one, and you agree. Things had been good until now. You don't want to ruin him over this. People have bad days.

With the kitchen functional and nothing too big left on your plate, you cut your losses and decide to finish the work alone.

Progress is slow on your own, of course. One pair of hands, only so many hours after work to chip away at the list after work. Still, time moves faster than you expect. You push through exhaustion, head often swimming, and work late into the evenings. One night, you finish patching the floor and tackle the basement's cracked wall. Only when you get down there, it's already done. Smoothed over perfectly.

You tell yourself John must've fixed it before everything went south. But then you notice other things. Several odd jobs from your list are already complete.

Squeaky door hinges turn silent. The dings and nail holes in the walls, spackled over. The second toilet that kept running starts working correctly. It's partly a relief, like the house is taking care of itself, but also deeply unsettling. You don't remember doing it, you've never sleepwalked or slept-repair in your life, even in your overtired state, and you're still too sore over your falling out to text John and ask if he did it all.

Instead, you decide to take a break. A few days off work, a proper rest. Let the house settle, let yourself breathe. Nothing happens. No floating tools. No ghosts. It's like the house is waiting for you to look away.

Paranoia sets in. You order cameras—indoor and outdoor, enough to cover every angle.

The day they arrive, you barely make it through the door before tearing open the box. But something stops you. Your eyes catch on a strange wooden box sitting on the dining table. It's a shadowbox.

Inside the box is the slat from the front doorframe, the one with the heights and names of the seven kids who grew up here. It's been cut out, perfectly, and framed like an artifact.

Your stomach drops. You scramble to the doorframe and run your hands over it, frantic. The patchwork is seamless, so clean it's like the names never existed.

Then you notice the boots. Tucked in and lined up next to your own pairs. The extra jacket hanging on the hooks.

A shadow falls over you.

You freeze, heart in your throat, and slowly turn with eyes the size of dinner plates. Towering above you, sleeves rolled to his elbows, fists planted on his hips, is John. Grinning.

"Work alright today?" He bends down and pulls you to your feet by your wrist, wrapping you up in an embrace and welcoming you home. He sways slightly with you, like you're dancing, his chest rising and falling against yours. He looks at you with a clear fondness and affection, but there's something off, like a splintering foundation. Stable until you look too close.

You try to push yourself away, palms flat against his chest, but he doesn't let go. "What are—What are you doing here? What are—Why did you do that?" You glance again toward where the measurements used to be.

He chuckles, soft and unbothered, a wistfulness threaded in his words. "Well, we're gonna need the room for our little ones, yeah? Oh, we'll have seven or more, dependin' on what takes. Sliding scale and all that."

At your stunned, horrified silence, he slots a hand into the back pocket of your jeans. He gives your cheek a little squeeze and starts steering you toward the kitchen. The one he built for you.

"C'mon. Lemme tell you all about my plans for us."

I’m a firm believer that 141 + König needs a person who’s a little softer around the edges. Bigger belly, bigger thighs, couldn’t care less about having a big ass or larger chest, this man loves anything he can grab.

also, reader who is always so small and petite and can barely see herself because his hoodie is too big, no. Just no. Reader who fills out his hoodie perfectly. Reader who can wear his hoodie and it looks like it was made for them. It absolutely kills him. Like, how can his beautiful looking partner be able to waltz around the house like that?

these men are fuckin huge, so he can’t spend time worrying about breaking you in half. He needs to be able to fuck you, and really fuck you. He needs a big partner.