Captain John Price is the kind of dad who convinces your children to ask you for pizza for dinner, acting all surprised when you tell him to call the local pizza place, eyebrows rising with "What's the occasion?" despite the obvious grin that his plan worked. You aren't fooled.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick is the kind of dad who chases your kids around with a nerf gun, relentlessly pelting them with styrofoam bullets and ganging up on your oldest son with your youngest daughter. Waits behind the front door for your son to get home from school and immediately fires on him.

on your neck—

his favorite place to leave his mark. his lips linger at the curve of your neck, sucking just enough to make you gasp, knowing exactly how sensitive you are there. “just so everyone knows who you belong to, lovie,” he’d whisper, pressing a final kiss to the bruise forming beneath your skin.

on your inner thighs—

he takes his time here, enjoying the way you squirm under him. his lips trail teasingly close to where you need him most, only to stop and suck gently on the tender skin of your inner thigh. “easy, baby,” he murmurs, voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “i’m not done yet.”

on your shoulders—

when you’re pinned beneath him, his mouth works across your shoulders, nipping and sucking as he holds you firmly in place. each mark feels like a brand, a reminder of his presence even when he isn’t touching you. “gotta leave something to remember me by, yeah?”

on your tits—

his mouth covers you completely, lips dragging down your chest, leaving trails of kisses that turn into bruises. he’s relentless, sucking harder until you’re whimpering beneath him. “what’s the matter, sweetheart?” he teases between kisses. “can’t handle it?”

on your stomach—

his kisses move lower, slow and deliberate, savoring every inch of skin he can get his mouth on. when his lips meet your stomach, he grins against your skin, knowing exactly how soft and sensitive you are there. “can’t leave this pretty little tummy untouched, can i?”

he leaves hickeys everywhere.

It was all over TikTok—women testing out pheromone perfumes to see how their boyfriends reacted.

Naturally, you had to try it.

The moment you spritz it onto your pulse points, a sultry, musky scent wafting through the air, you know you’re in trouble.

i can’t remember if I posted yesterday or not, but here’s todays :)

Captain Price – "like you want somethin’, sweetheart"

Price is lounging in his chair, reading the paper like some kind of distinguished gentleman, when you enter the room.

His nose twitches slightly. His brows furrow.

You strut past him, not saying a word, but the scent follows you like a sinful little trail.

His voice is low. "What’s that, love?"

You shrug innocently. "Perfume."

Price sets the paper down, leaning forward slightly. "New?"

"Mmhmm." You tilt your neck slightly, just enough to let the scent linger around him. "You like it?"

He doesn’t respond immediately.

Instead, he watches you like a predator. His gaze sharp, assessing, as if he’s figuring something out.

Then, slow as molasses, he stands.

You don’t realize you’re backing up until your spine meets the wall.

"John—"

"What’s in it?" His voice is dangerously calm.

Your heart hammers. "Just… a mix of things."

He hums. Steps closer. His chest brushes against yours, the heat of his body pressing into you.

"Smells different than your usual." His nose skims along your throat, inhaling deeply. "Smells like you want somethin’, sweetheart."

You shudder. "Maybe."

His fingers trail up your arm, slow and teasing. "That right?"

"Mhm."

Then, just as you start melting—

He pulls away.

You gape at him as he smirks, picking up his paper again like nothing happened.

"John!"

"Careful what you start, love," he murmurs, eyes twinkling over the top of the paper. "Or I’ll finish it."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick – "sit in the freezer.."

Gaz doesn’t notice at first. He’s scrolling on his phone, lounging on the couch, completely unaware of the trap you’ve set.

Then—

He sniffs the air.

Freezes.

Looks at you.

"Babe."

You arch a brow. "Yes?"

"What the fuck is that smell?"

"My perfume."

His pupils blow wide. "What—why do I—" He rubs his face aggressively. "Why do I feel weird?"

You bite back a laugh. "Weird how?"

"Like I need to put you on my fuckin’ lap, that’s how."

"Oh?" You saunter closer, watching the way his hands tighten into fists. "That bad?"

"YES."

"Huh." You lean down, bracing your hands on either side of his head. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Gaz swallows hard. "I dunno, babe, but it’s gonna involve you on my lap, so you better back up before I—"

You giggle and step back. "Relax, it’s just pheromone perfume—"

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Gaz bolts upright. "YOU DRUGGED ME?"

"Oh my God, Kyle—"

"I NEED TO GO SIT IN THE FREEZER, I SWEAR TO GOD—"

He flees to the kitchen, frantically fanning himself, while you wheeze with laughter.

Simon "Ghost" Riley – “notice anything different?”

You know Simon. He doesn’t react to much.

So when you walk into the room, drenched in your secret weapon, you expect some reaction.

You get nothing.

Not even a twitch.

"Hey, love," he murmurs, flipping through a book.

You pout. "You notice anything… different?"

He hums. "New hair?"

"No."

"New dress?"

"No!"

He finally looks up, blinking at you. "What, then?"

You step closer, letting the scent wrap around him. "Smell me."

Simon gives you a slow, measured look. Then, like he knows exactly what you’re up to, he sighs and leans in.

The moment he inhales—

He freezes.

His hands tighten around the book, his jaw going tight.

"Oh." His voice is dangerous.

Your stomach flips. "Oh?"

He slowly closes the book. "You have no idea what you just did, love."

You gulp. "I—"

Then, lightning fast, he grips your waist and hauls you into his lap.

You squeak. "Simon!"

"You wanted a reaction, sweetheart?" His hands slide up your back, firm. "Now you’re gonna deal with it."

"It was just a prank—"

"Not anymore."

You die.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish – "make me feral."

You spray the perfume on your wrists, grinning like a devil as you enter the room. Soap is at the table, scrolling on his phone.

The moment you walk past him—

"What the fuck is that?"

You smirk. "Perfume."

His nostrils flare. "That’s perfume?"

"Mhm."

Soap leans in.

You immediately realize your mistake.

His eyes darken. "What’s in that?"

You gulp. "Just… y’know. Stuff."

"*Stuff.**"

"Uh-huh."

Then, faster than you can blink, he’s out of his chair and chasing you.

"JOHNNY—"

"NO, LASS, YE STARTED THIS SHITE—C'MERE!"

You squeal, sprinting down the hall, but he grabs you, effortlessly scooping you up like you weigh nothing.

"Oh, ye think ye’re funny, huh?" he growls, throwing you over his shoulder.

"IT WAS A JOKE!"

"Aye, well, now I’m gonna show ye what happens when ye make me feral, sweetheart.*"

Your giggles turn into breathless shrieks as he carries you straight to the bedroom.

(You regret nothing.)

Moral of the Story:

You thought you were being slick.

Turns out?

fake-marriage!simon who treats it like a mission

fake-marriage!simon who treats it like a mission because simon doesn’t know how to do anything halfway. if he’s committing to something, even something fake, then he’s going to do it properly. thoroughly. completely.

fake-marriage!simon who sits you down at the beginning like he’s briefing you before an op. boundaries. expectations. contingency plans. “we keep it consistent,” he says evenly, arms crossed over his chest. “no contradictions. no mistakes. people ask questions, we already know the answers.”

fake-marriage!simon who memorizes everything about you with terrifying precision. your coffee order. how you answer personal questions. the stories you tell often enough to become useful details later. he files it all away automatically, treating information about you like something important to safeguard.

fake-marriage!simon who slips into the role so naturally it catches you off guard. his hand steady against your lower back in public. his body shifting instinctively closer in crowded rooms. the calm way he says “my spouse” like he’s been calling you that for years already.

fake-marriage!simon who never overdoes the affection. that would make it look fake. instead, he’s subtle in ways that feel far more convincing. quiet touches. small adjustments. constant awareness of where you are in relation to him.

After a whirlwind of an experience that has you hoping he'll stick around late into tomorrow, you're both out of breath and you're laughing as Johnny shuffles towards the shower in the bathroom, trying to be some mix of sexy and silly.

"Gonnae join me hen?" He waggles his brows, adding an exaggerated sway to his hips.

And of course you're going to join him. Not a chance you're going to miss out on more fun in the shower, but you take a moment to just relax and come back into your body as you hear the shower turn on.

You realize too late you forgot to warn him when you suddenly hear the most high-pitched, inhuman screech.

Silly you forgot to mention your hot water took a bit of time to heat up. An old water heater. And Johnny had just stepped right in, still blissed out from the night's previous activities.

I know it's a consensus around here that Ghost flirts about as well as a brick. But what about the rest of the 141? To me, I think they all have this problem, you know, being away on missions for months and all that…

For example, Price (despite having been married before) flirts terribly. The sweet newly hired secretary knows that very well:

He thinks it’s so much fun. Hes a big guy and tends to get rowdy, so when his partner initiates fighting with him he tends to get carried away. It’s always in good fun, of course, but if you say you can take it, who is he to deny you the pleasure of being thrown around?

And he does throw you. Thinks that surprised squeal you make when you’re airborne is the best, followed by the little grunt when your body hits the bed or the couch. He’s showing off, cause of course he is. Manhandles you and puts on a show of folding you into different holds and presses. But he’s always delighted to lose the upper hand, watching you scrabble for a chance to best him, panting and flushed in the face, your clothes twisted around your body. Probably grunts out some praise because getting one over him isn’t easy. Unfortunately, he plays dirty and isn’t against tickling or other less than polite ways of winning. Loves when he tires you out and has you pressed against his body, squirming with no way out.

Snake Hybrid! Reader x Taskforce 141

Snake Hybrid! Reader, who isn't exactly exothermic (cold blooded,) but has an extremely hard time regulating their body temperature. Tending to hide under mountains of blankets in winter, even having to have special clothes and gear for missions in colder environments. Thriving in hot environments, but when they need to cool off, they just find the nearest cool water source and drench themselves.

After having his water bottle stolen about 8 times, Gaz starts carrying an extra water bottle for them. But even that gets old, and by the time the middle of summer hits, Ghost and the others have bought them a pool. Ghost picking them up, one hand on the back of their neck, immobilizing their head, and the other hand wrapped around their midsection, lugging them to the pool, and dumping them in, immediately cooling them off and becoming their favorite spot. Suddenly, 3 other pools show up at different places on base, with signs that say, **CAUTION: SNAKE PIT**

Snake Hybrid! Reader who, when grumpy, becomes a nope rope. Whether it's rearing up and back like a cobra, wrapping (attempting to) their arms around the Tf 141 boys and squeezing like an anaconda, or making a sound like a rattlesnake's rattle, makes their displeasure and mood known to all. At first, Ghost is the only one willing to deal with grumpy reader, but the others slowly learn how to handle them as well, and they all know when it's time to leave reader alone.