#butch johnny mactavish

[fairyboygenius]

snippet saturday (time is relative)

for the summer camp au- just started vomiting words out. this’ll be part of a series of how the 141 spends the 4th with their favorite camp workers

tags for friendship (bonks you on the head) @stellewriites @wraithdance @w00lgathering @ohlawdthebirds @cowboyshadows

a little sprinkling of ghost x oc, 2nd person pov present tense (can be read as x reader)

“Bonnie!”

You don’t look up from the worn romance novel in your lap. Birdie- who Soap is likely actually calling- sighs, setting down her Joan Didion. She blinks at Soap, and Soap shoots her a roguish smile, ragged at the edges.

“Everywhere I go, I see your face,” Birdie groans, but you smile at the fondness in her voice. No one is truly annoyed by Soap unless they’re exhausted or she’s encouraging their kids to put sticks in their mouths “for science”. “Can’t even get away from you on my time off.”

“Ach, come off it.” Soap plops down between you two, flashing you a similar roguish grin- not the same panty-melting one Birdie had received. “Pop.”

“Suds.” You see her face scrunch. The two of you had quickly devolved into calling each other nicknames of your nicknames- another, sacred level of friendship. The flame of attraction had gone out once you realized Soap’s heart was set on Birdie- and yet, you still found yourself leaning forward slightly. Soap glowed in such a way that you couldn’t help but feel your pulse thrum and your cheeks heat when she turned her sunshine gaze on you. She was magnetic. The love was simple, platonic. “What’d ya need?”

“Gaz said youse always take the 4th off.” Soap takes a long pull from the giant bottle of root beer on the floor of staff house. She pulls away, gagging slightly. “Tha fock is tha’ shite?”

“English, MacTavish,” you grunt fondly, and Soap reaches out to squeeze your hand.

“You stole that from Ghost,” Soap grumbles affectionately. Your cheeks warm just slightly at the name. “Anyway, I’ve come to invite myself along.”

“You were always invited anyway,” Birdie says, a slight flirty edge to her voice. “We know you well enough by now to know that you love blowing shit up on back roads.”

“Olive Garden, Red Robin or Cane’s?” You wipe a trail of blue Gatorade from your lips. Both of them sigh, the familiar list of chain restaurants echoing in the space. Since arriving in the states, it had been the goal of the American staff to corrupt their international cohort. Soap had discovered a fondness for St.Louis style barbecue- which hurt poor Birdie’s Texan heart- and Ghost never let on that he liked anything. Except the Papa John’s pizza with extra garlic dipping sauce he had shared with Gaz at the pool, making both their breaths smell rancid. The content groan that had escaped his lips when you went over to grab a slice still haunted your (sometimes salacious) dreams.

“What about that Mexican place? The one that Snoopy took us to, the one that doesn’t card?” Sunshine pipes up from her chair in the corner, laptop resting on her thighs. She grumbles in frustration- presumably, the WiFi went out again. Her summer classes were… going, as far as she could with the absolute shit internet on camp.

You, Birdie, and Soap exchange glances. “There’s nothing more American than stealing another culture’s food,” you concede.

“I was just planning on buying a couple shooters and pouring them into sodas, but your idea is way better,” Birdie says, taking a long drink from her water bottle. A high pitched squealing noise- a bit like a dolphin’s call- echoes through the room, and everyone bursts into laughter. She laughs, too, and hangs her head. “I need to fix that.”

“Just get another one, Mills,” you say, pulling out her nickname from real life. “You’ve had that bottle since, what, CIT summer?”

“It’s perfectly functional”, Birdie protests, wincing slightly when you and Sunshine give her a look. “Also, it’s got all my stickers.”

“It’s dented in five places,” Sunshine deadpans.

“Wakes me up in the middle o’ the night,” Soap grumbles. “Thought I had gotten out o’ that by staying with the older kids.”

[stellewriites]

every sort of day

ghoap x gn!reader fluff

when you woke that morning, the bed was empty and the flat quiet. you felt the sheets but they were cold and you huffed feeling a little frustrated that you’d woken up late even if you knew you’d needed the sleep.

pouting regardless, you got up and headed into the kitchen, shuffling along the wood floors in your thick, warm socks. your eyes went to the fridge first like every morning and you grinned when you saw the letter magnets rearranged into a message, i luv u. looking slightly lower you barked out a surprised laugh at the continued message using numbers for any missing original magnets, 4nd ur ar5e.

you shook your head and finally opened your coffee maker, feeling your chest warm when you saw a pod already inside and your mug set just to the side of it. your favourite brand of almond milk had been replenished in the fridge without you realising and you savoured the hot drink once it was made with a satisfied hum.

you’d missed johnny and simon before they’d left to work on base that morning, but they’d made sure to leave their mark behind for you to find.

you settled on the sofa in your boyfriends’ t-shirt and boxers, wrapped in a fluffy blanket. you sent a text to the pair of them, a simple love heart to let them know you’d woken up, and then turned on the tv. you’d been sick the past few days though you could tell you were on the up now, your head not feeling so fuzzy and your throat not scratching as bad. your boyfriends must have agreed given they’d set up the stuff for a coffee; simon was a staunch believer of tea only when ill and he made you stick to it too when he was around.

halfway through your trash tv show you napped for an hour or two, only waking when your stomach grumbled and complained at being empty for too long. wrapped up tight in your blanket, you yawned and headed to the kitchen to grab the soup johnny had made. you spotted it on the top shelf in the fridge and heated it up in the microwave under the brief instructions taped to the side of the tupperware. you were thankful it didn’t need too long, eager to get back to the sofa and the latest season of love island. while you waited for it to heat up you made yourself a tea and sent a photo to simon, smiling when he sent back a simple, good lass 🖤.

you sighed at the smell when the microwave dinged. spicy veg, your favourite and easy to keep down with the gippy tummy you’d had the last few days.

once you sat back down with both items, you hunched over like a shrimp to keep from spilling it, your blanket hung over your shoulders like a shroud.

you messaged simon worriedly when you’d heard nothing from johnny by mid afternoon. you knew they were meant to be in training, finishing off any vague handwavey paperwork they did and catching up with their captain after the last week off on break with you. but still. you worried.

johnny was chatty, even when he was in a meeting or on a helo, he always managed to send you a little something to keep your nerves settled.

your phone pinged and you opened the video simon sent quick sharp.

it showed johnny running laps on his own on a big field, a group of younger recruits cheering him on from the side, slightly out of frame and sat on the grass next to the track. your boyfriend’s face was beet red and his wheezing breaths could be heard even several feet away.

“talked a big game about my training program for the new recruits, said i was losing my touch,” simon’s voice came out of your speakers. he was clearly amused even if you couldn’t see him. he raised his voice for johnny. “‘ow you feeling now, sergeant?"

“cannae feel ma legs, lt.” johnny slowed down on his lap until he was just walking, coming to a stop opposite simon, though still a ways away on the track. “pain in ma lungs is—“ he hacked a rough cough before leaning over his knees.

“still think i’ve gone soft?” simon asked as the video zoomed in comically and unflattering on johnny panting and suffering.

“ah think yer a petty bastard,” johnny grumbled, keeping his voice loud enough to be heard by his lt. cheeky. “ah think ah might’ve pulled somethin’ permanently.” he stood back up and tried to stretch his back with a wince.

“cheer up,” simon said unsympathetically. “and say ‘ello to sunny, they were worried f’ya,” simon said softer.

johnny perked up at the mention of your nickname and you grinned at his wobbly smile on the screen, his chest still rising and falling with his quick, deep breaths. “missin’ ya, sunshine.”

the video flicked around and you were being shown simon’s work mask and his deep dark eyes hidden in the shadows of it. “be ‘ome soon,” he promised.

the video cut off as you heard simon yell at johnny to keep running and you relaxed back with a laugh; johnny would be thoroughly knackered by time he got in so you were guaranteed a puppy pile the second he stepped through the door. you turned back to the tv and settled in for another possible nap, eager for the day to go by so you could see your partners once more.

——

you blearily rubbed at your eyes as you heard the door open and peeked over the side of the sofa to see your boys shuffling in. slowly and clumsily, you made your way over with the blanket still tangled around you.

you let one arm escape the warm cocoon to help simon with his coat, tugging at the sleeve as he shrugged it off. you weren’t much help but he liked that you tried even when you weren’t feeling 100%.

johnny leant in to kiss your forehead and you sniffled with a smile as you looked up at him. simon’s hand was warm where it gently squeezed the back of your neck before trailing down to the small of your back over the blanket.

“kept warm?” he asked before heading to the kitchen and leaving you to be wrapped up in johnny’s arms. once he had a good hold around you he led you behind simon faithfully. your small steps tied in the burrito blanket hindered his longer strides so he swayed side to side on each foot to slow down and stop you from tripping in his eagerness.

“yeah, i’ve been wrapped up all day, hardly moved,” you said.

“lucky for some,” johnny groaned into your neck. “si ran me bloody ragged.”

you laughed and reached and hand up to pet sympathetically at his hair. your laugh soon turned to a racking cough and you ducked your head into your elbow and away from johnny.

he rocked you gently on the spot as he leant against the kitchen top opposite where simon was lining up three cups of tea.

once the kettle popped, johnny led you forward and squished you between his front and simon’s back as the larger man poured the boiling water into the cups.

you let your free arm curl around simon’s stomach, pawing gently like a cat at his bulk beneath the thick hoody until his own hand raised to hold it. he ran his thumb over your knuckles before lifting your hand to kiss the back of it, lingering.

“and did ya eat today?” he asked.

you nodded and hummed the assentive.

“our lovely bonnie, knows how t’ take care ah’themselves when we can’t,” johnny hummed, pleased and proud, into your hair.

“missed you both today,” you admitted.

you felt johnny grin against your skin and simon squeezed your hand tighter.

“ye’d a’been asleep all day, sunny,” he joked.

you pouted. it was true but that wasn’t the reaction you wanted.

johnny tugged you back a few steps and simon let your hand slip from his; the scot guided you out of the kitchen and towards your bedroom, and when you checked over both of your shoulders for simon he chuckled fondly.

simon had all three mugs in his hands and was close behind as johnny gently shoved you back onto the bed, your knees sinking into the plush duvet and mattress as you climbed to the centre.

you got yourself snuggled against the pillows with johnny to your right and then helped simon with the mugs on your left before he too collapsed against your side, shoulder to hip.

“put some honey in yours,” simon murmured softly as you blew on the hot tea. you smiled gratefully and leant in to kiss his cheek. “think we should order in, can’t be arsed t’cook.”

“aye, that’s fine w’me,” johnny agreed as he turned on the tv opposite your bed. he flickered through your watchlist before landing on young frankenstein and pressing play.

you pulled the blanket up high and held on to johnny’s hand, keeping your tea up high to inhale the steam while simon petted at your thigh under the covers. you didn’t know when you’d nodded off, but simon must have taken your mug before it could spill and johnny must have laid you lower on the bed to get you comfy. you woke to the sound of football playing on the tv and you groaned and curled further into simon’s side. he’d always managed to stay still better than johnny could, even if he was just as invested in the game. you felt johnny’s hand rub up and down your side, before gripping the fat of your hip in excitement and patting it softly but rapidly when a goal was scored.

“easy, johnny,” simon reminded him and johnny leant over to kiss your brow with a wet smooch.

“sorry, sunny,” he whispered. “go back to sleep. i’ll be quiet.”

you snorted softly, knowing he’d do his best but would be unable to keep the promise. you managed to fall asleep again regardless with a small smile, cuddled close between the two of them; simon’s arm around you both and his aftershave gently breaking through your stuffed nose.

being ill would be so much worse if you didn’t have these two lugs keeping you comfortable and cared for.

[numberonecodwomenfan]

butch soap with big naturals 😝😝 lowkey medium naturals i fear i couldnt find a good reference 😔

anyway butch soap save me…..

ghost is swiping on her btw 😜

[ohlawdthebirds]

Sunday Morning

Butch!Soap MacTavish x gn!Reader

Synopsis: Two freaks (affectionate) go to church.

Cw: religious themes (this fic involves the nuances of two character's experiences with religion, namely Christianity/Catholicism). These views don't necessarily reflect my own, and they may not reflect yours either!)

Special thanks to @stellewriites for encouraging me every step of the way! This fic wouldn't exist without you💖🫂✨️Also, y'all should check out her fic that inspired this.

I highly recommend listening to Ethel Cain’s Preacher’s Daughter while reading this. I had Family Tree on repeat while writing, so if it feels like your bones are breaking and you taste blood in your mouth, that’s why.

Johanna “Soap” MacTavish was not a praying woman. Not normally, at least. Her years of seeing the horror the world had to offer, and her participation in them, stripped away what little faith she had remaining. And it wasn’t as though she’d never had faith.

She remembered being a wee bairn, legs kicking against the wooden pews as she listened to the hymns the choir sung. She remembered the smell of incense, the sting of the kneelers digging into her knees when it was time to pray, the way her hand flew through the motions when she made the sign of the cross.

It all meant something, once. A time where she felt that God was listening to her, that God even cared. If you asked her now if she thought that God cared, she’d respond that she had no idea.

She might even tell you she wasn’t sure if God was even real.

Add in being a huge lesbian and Soap found more than enough reasons to stay away from church.

And yet, when you come up to her on a random Saturday and ask if she’ll come to church with you, she finds herself agreeing.

“Ye take all yer dates tae church?” she quips. The joke is a feeble attempt at fighting back the rising panic in her chest. What she’s scared of, she’s not yet sure.

Soap notes the exhausted smile that crosses your face.

“Only the ones I really like,” you toss back. “But seriously, only come if you’re comfortable. I just…just felt like checking out that church a few blocks down the road.”

“Any reason ye asked me? Th’ others weren’t around?” It’s not that she minds, but Soap can’t seem to recall ever telling you she was religious. Or, at least, that she grew up that way. Maybe you pieced it together after glimpsing the cross necklace she kept tucked under her shirt.

“I don’t know, exactly. Had a feeling you’d understand my reasons for going. Thought maybe you’d get something out of it too.”

Before Soap can ask more about your cryptic answer, you make a beeline for the door.

“I’ll meet you outside your barrack at 0700 sharp. And I’ll bring breakfast!”

-

0700 comes sooner than she’d like. Soap wakes and dresses, pulling on a plain shirt and black cargos. Her feet are slipped into freshly cleaned boots, ones she stayed up an extra hour scrubbing the dirt from. Felt like bad manners to show up at one of God’s many houses and track filth in. Her hair has grown out past regulation length, but Price isn’t up her arse about it. A bit of water and a pea-sized amount of pomade nicked from Gaz helps tame her mullethawk.

For a moment, Soap wonders what she’s doing this for. She could have very well declined your offer. In some twisted way, she feels like a dog returning to its vomit; the church of her youth left her disillusioned and previous attempts to return felt like forcing open a locked door. She wasn’t sure why she even went back. Maybe it was for approval. Her parent’s or God’s, who’s to say? Her mother routinely asked if she kept up with her prayers and Soap never had the heart to tell her “Only sometimes.”

For all her doubt, Soap couldn’t help the occasional prayer for protection before embarking upon missions, and a word of thanks when the team made it back in one piece.

A knock sounds from the door. Soap grabs her jacket from where it hangs over her chair. Before she can fully cross the room, something tugs at the back of her mind. She remembers her gran’s rosary beads; the ones passed down after her death years ago. She digs them from where they rest in an ornate box stashed towards the back of her desk. They’re slipped from the box’s silk lining and gently lowered into a cargo pocket. Soap moves back towards the door, pulling it open to reveal you.

You’re dressed similarly, with nondescript trousers and a shirt with the logo of a band she’s never heard of. There’s a plastic container in your hands. You give her that same exhausted smile from yesterday and Soap wants nothing more than to cradle you in her arms. But, before she can, you pluck the top off the container and offer it out to her. The scent of cinnamon and sugar hits her nostrils.

“Ghost saved me a few of these. They’re from that bakery he’s been frequenting. Think he’s sweet on the bird that works there.”

Soap pulls out a cinnamon bun and immediately tucks into it. She wonders, briefly, if she should say grace, but this thought comes after she’s halfway through the pastry. Maybe next time.

You lead the way off base and down the road to a church Soap has passed many times before. It’s small, with stained glass windows and a tiny cross perched atop the steeple. The doors are open, and people trickle in. Soap notes how you hesitate before clenching your jaw and striding forward. She follows you up the steps and into the sanctuary where the two of you sequester yourselves in a pew farthest from the pulpit.

The smell of the church is a gut-punch of nostalgia, all old wood and onionskin paper. The cushioned seats of the pew are worn, threadbare, and do nothing to stop the varnished wood from pressing into your legs. Soap is surprised by how calm she feels. There’s none of the usual guilt and fear crawling under her skin and nestling into her bones. Peering over to you, the exhaustion in your eyes is still present, but you’re not as tense.

Soon enough, service begins, and the reverend takes to the pulpit. The congregation is led through hymns that take Soap back to her childhood. She finds herself swaying along with the rise and fall of voices. You do the same, albeit with less familiarity.

When they end, the reverend begins his sermon. It’s some variation of things Soap has heard before, an interpretation of Jesus’s teachings and how they relate to the modern era. She nods along at some points, frowning at others.

Jesus wouldnae say tha’, she thinks at one point. You, on the other hand, have a notebook out and scribble furiously across the page. When Soap leans over to get a closer look, you tilt the page towards her.

‘This guy’s a HACK’, she reads. It takes everything within her to hold back a laugh. You grin, continuing to write as quickly as the reverend speaks.

Communion is towards the end of the serivice. Soap had completely blanked on it being the first Sunday of the month. Her mother would be pleased to hear her wayward daughter had received the Eucharist the next time she called.

Congregants stand and shuffle into a line leading up to the pulpit. You end up in front of Soap, hands fiddling with each other while you wait in line. When you finally reach the front, you bow your head quickly before cupping your hands, left under right, to receive the rice cracker.

“The body of Christ,” the reverend says.

“Amen,” you demure, slipping the cracker between your teeth, chewing only twice before it basically dissolves. The reverend extends the chalice in his hands, full of red wine, and you accept it into yours, taking a modest sip. You move to the side immediately after and walk back to the pew.

There’s a slight nervousness stirring in Soap’s guts as she approaches. Her body moves through the movements on pure muscle memory, the “Amen” leaving her mouth without much thought. The cracker is dry on her tongue, the wine sweet in her mouth. She walks back to the pew feeling strangely renewed.

Service concludes soon after, with a parting prayer and a hymn for the road. The exit from the building feels less like an escape and more of an emergence into the late morning sunlight. Like Jesus on th’ third day from tha’ tomb, Soap muses wryly. When she turns to you the exhaustion seems to have been lifted fully. Your eyes are brighter, and a genuine smile graces your face.

“Hey, can I show you something? It’ll be quick,” you ask. Soap agrees, following close on your heels as you lead the way to the church’s garden towards the back of the building. It’s not lost on her that she’s been following you around for most of the day. Maybe, in some freaky way, you’re a shepherd that was sent to retrieve her back to the flock. If anything, Soap believes you have a slightly better sense of direction than her.

The church garden is small, with a wooden gazebo and stone benches dotted around the property. Flowers grow in manicured beds along the cobblestone path winding through the garden. Further in is a huge planter box crowded with fresh vegetables. A wooden sign leaned against the box advertises the vegetables as free for whomever wanted them.

You settle onto a stone bench. Soap wanders a bit more, ambling over to the planter box and plucking a tomato off the vine. She bites into it, eliciting a shriek of mock horror from you.

“Johnny! You’re just gonna eat it raw? You didn’t even wash it off!”

Soap smirks around the juice and seeds. “Not the only thing I eat raw, bon,” she jokes.

You grimace only for it to turn to laughter. Soap joins in, head tossed back and doing her best not to choke. Your laughter dies down soon enough, leaving the two of you to bask in the tranquility of the garden. Though it pains you to do so, you’re the first to break the silence.

“I come here sometimes, to pray.”

Soap finishes off the remnants of her tomato.

“D’you believe in it? Erm, in Him? In God?”

“Not sure. I think I’m trying to,” you hum. “I think… I want to. I want to believe in something bigger than myself, like it all means something, y’know? Like, this all has a purpose.”

“I get tha’,” Soap murmurs. “Been tryin’ tae figure this out for mysel’ fir a while. Grew up in th’ church, but things weren’t workin’ out.”

Soap turns to you, a question burning on her tongue.

“What’d ye mean yesterday, when ye said ah wid ken yer reason fir goin’ ‘ere?”

“I’ll be so honest,” you said sheepishly, “I kinda made that up. I just wanted someone to come with me and you were the first person that came to mind.”

Something warm blooms in Soap’s chest. She takes the opportunity to reach over and entwine her fingers with yours. You respond in kind, squeezing her fingers gently.

“Thank you for coming with me,” you say. “I don’t know if I’ll keep coming here going forward, but I wanted to try at least once.”

“And if ye ever dae come again…I dinnae think I’d mind comin’ with.” Soap says.

And, in a moment of bravery you didn’t think you possessed, you lean over to press your lips against hers. The kiss is soft and warm, much like the sun on your skin. Soap tilts her head to deepen the kiss when someone clears their throat loudly. The two of you jump apart and come face to face with the reverend.

“Pardon me,” he says bashfully, “But the gardens are due to close in a few minutes. I apologize for, uh…interrupting you two.”

You grin. “Not a problem! We’ll be on our way.”

Soap’s hand stays in yours the whole walk home, kisses snuck in every step of the way. You separate briefly when you get to the barracks, promising to meet back at hers once you’ve changed into something more comfortable.

Soap kicks off her boots and swaps out her clothes for a much rattier shirt and gym shorts. You return the same way, swaddled in a huge shirt and baggy joggers. You both slip under Soap’s covers for the most sacred Sunday ritual of all: naptime. Before Soap can fully snuggle in, she remembers the rosary still in her cargo pocket. She’s out the bed before you can protest, hand reaching in and cradling the rosary after fishing it out.

The box sits open, patiently awaiting its treasure. Soap makes the sign of the cross with it, pressing her lips to the metal crucifix before arranging it back within the silk lining. You welcome her back into bed with open arms, pulling her against yourself. Sleep beckons the pair of you in, letting the rest of the day drift by.

Johanna “Soap” MacTavish is an occasionally praying woman. For what could possibly be the first time in her life, she lets herself bask in the moment. There’s no panic in her chest, no fear in her heart. If heaven is real, she hopes it’s a lot like this.

If God is real, she hopes He’s a lot like you.  

[thegnomelord]

This awakened something in my lil gay soul; NSFW MDNI: dp, Johnny/Simon/Kyle, humiliation kink, bathroom sex, dom/sub undertones, 90's standard homophobia, dub-con/CnC cause simon doesn't outright agree but he's into it.

Now I'm thinking of cop Simon going to the gay bar 'undercover' to 'get evidence'. Spoiler alert: he's shit at subterfuge and stands out like a sore thumb, everyone can tell he's a cop but don't do shit because they can all smell the gay in denial on him.

He ends up being lured to the fucking booth bathroom by Kyle who's in drag. Kyle's pretty brown eyes and sweet smile eases down Simon's defences — it's not gay if Kyle looks like a woman, right? A little kiss wouldn't hurt, Simon, you're still as straight as an arrow. Besides, it's not like you're actually kissing Kyle, right now he's Queen Claudia and what upstanding Manchester boy wouldn't want to have a few minutes of her attention?

Kyle's lips taste sweet like the fruity drinks he's had, but it's the sensation of calloused fingers caressing his stubbled jaw that makes Simon feel drunk. And it's Kyle's name that slips past his lips when Simon pulls back from the kiss to suck in a shallow breath, pupils wide and a blush across his face as bright as Kyle's lipstick.

Simon doesn't notice Johnny come up behind him. Well, he does notice him when Johnny locks Simon's hands behind him with the handcuffs Simon had left him the last time he was 'interrogating' Johnny.

"Look whaet we've hav here Claudia?" Johnny chuckles, chest as firm against Simon's back as his arousal that's poking Simon's rear. "A lil piggy came to play?" A rough hand over his mouth keeps Simon from snarling back at Johnny. Kyle's manicured fingers groping his emberassingly hard cock shuts down his brain enough for them to drag him into the dingy bathroom stall.

The stall's had many visitors, numbers, scratchy messages and dried cum stains dotting the walls. They ignore the hole sawn into the side of the stall — they'll make sure Simon properly apologises to the other bar goers for continuosly raiding the bar after they have their turn — instead they have him sitting in Johnny's lap, pants already down his ankles. They get a nice surprise as Simon's not wearing any underwear.

"Knew yae was a bigger fairy than us English." Johnny snorts, wide palm leaving a red stinging handprint on Simon's pasty ass. His kilt is already flipped up, rock hard cock leaking a few drops of pre against Simon's hole. "Lil pig just couldn't wait ta 'ave his stuffing?" His other hand is still holding Simon's jaw closed, but his black painted fingers dig into Simon's skin and forcefully nod his head. "'course yae couldn't, got so green eyed when yae'd see me take it up the arse."

"Caught yourself a fat one 'Tav." Kyle giggles behind Simon, spit lubed fingers circling around his dry hole. Automatically he clenches, but the tensing of his muscles isn't enough to keep Kyle from slowly pushing in. A half broken sound escapes past Johnny's palm as Kyle wiggles his fingers to force him to relax, thumb rubbing his rim in a soothing way. "Look how wet he already is."

His words draw Simon's extremely hard cock as it twitches between his and Johnny's bellies, not even the prickly shame in his stomach able to wilt his raging erection.

Johnny's rough hand spanks him again, calloused fingers sliding across his freckled skin to fist his cock. "Aye, wet and needy like a sow." The hand on his mouth moves down to grip his thick thigh, groping it before pressing down so Kyle's fingers are forced deeper into him. "Gonna be a good piggy and squeal fer us?"

Kyle pushes a second finger in and spreads them, the stretch punching a pained sound out of him. The preparation is quick and rough, they're showing him as much kindness as he shows Johnny. Shame continues to nibble on his system, but it's overshadowed by hungry twisted pleasure and need and before he knows it he's whimpering out a weak "Joh-Johnny-"

"Not good enough." Simon's punished by Johnny squeezing his fist. Pain races up his system, making him leak like a broken tap. "C'mon English, ah know yae can do better than that."

"Don't be mean." Kyle kisses Simon's shoulder, wiggling a third finger into him despite his body's best attempt to stop him. "Remember what Price said? We've got to be nice to the pigs." Without warning Kyle thrusts all three fingers in and out of Simon in a quick pace, knuckles dragging on his walls and occasionally bumping his prostate.

Simon shouts before he can help it, eyes screwing shut to keep the tears at bay. "There you go." Kyle coos, trying to see if he can wiggle in a fourth finger but to no avail. "You just needed a little encouragement." He pulls his fingers out, pulling a broken sob from Simon too, and throws MacTavish a grin. "He's ready for some fun,"

"Finally," Johnny growls, letting go of Simon's cock to shove two precum covered fingers into his mouth.

Simon bites down, desperate to get a bit of control back. It just makes something wild spark in Johnny's eyes. "Ooh, our wee piggy has some manner problems." Despite the pain he pushes deeper until Simon's choking, drool running down his chin.

He almost heaves when Johnny shows him a bit of mercy by pulling out. The shitty bathroom lights make the spit coating Johnny's fingers shine, and before it can dry he wets his cock with Simon's spit. Both hands grip his trembling thighs and lift him up enough to position Johnny's leaking head against his fluttering entrance. "Squeal for us piggy." Johnny orders, pulling him down.

Johnny's cock spears through him like a hot knife, forever carving a space in his untouched body just for Johnny. Pain races up his spine, turning to pleasure in his fucked up head. Simon throws his head back to heave a wet sob, insides clenching as his body struggles to figure out if it wants to push MacTavish out or draw him in deeper. It settles on the latter when a vein on his cock presses down on Simon's prostate, a weak vestige of a mewl leaping off his lips when Johnny fully settles inside him.

Johnny pauses to pant, looking at Simon's trembling body, feeling Simon leak against his stomach. He thought Simon looked hot in his policeman clothes, but he looks way better like this. "Got a pair o' lungs on yae piggy," Letting go of one thigh Johnny's hand settles on Simon's stomach; he can feel himself beneath the muscle, throbbing inside Simon's wet hot walls. "Can yae do that again?" With a wicket smirk Johnny snaps his hips up, fucking into Simon with the same rough pace as Simon does to him.

Kyle takes the time to appreciate the rough and broken sounds that leave Simon, before digging through his bag. "Try to hold him still Tav," Kyle says, pressing his front against Simon's back, grabbing his jaw to pull his face to the side.

"What fo-" Johnny pauses just long enough to see the lipstick and mascara in Kyle's hands. "-oh!" He laughs, slowing down until he's languidly grinding into Simon. "Yae want ta make 'im pretty for the rest of the lads?"

"Wouldn't be fair for him would it? Now hold still sweetie." Humiliation and arousal thrums though Simon's veins, made worse by the fact he tries his best to stay still as the mascara curler comes near his fluttering eyelids. He doesn't know why he feels proud when Kyle kisses him for getting his top lashes done, but the soft "Good sow," Kyle says has a light floaty feeling settling in his chest.

Kyle's done this so often he could apply the mascara blindfolded. Granted, he's never done it on someone who was being slowly bounced on Johnny's cock, but there's a first for everything and he's done pretty quickly. Then comes the lipstick, bright cherry red just like Simon's flushed face. "There you go," Kyle chuckles and pecks the corner of Simon's lip, smudging the lipstick he'd just applied.

"That's a pretty picture." Johnny whistles as he looks over Simon's makeup. A sharp buck of his hips ruins it as it forces a few tears to roll down Simon's cheeks and pull the mascara down with it. "Should send yae back to the precinct looking like that, you'd be a right hit." Not needing Simon to be still anymore Johnny grips his thighs and gets back to fucking into him like a bull. Despite how nice the sounds he tears from Simon are, he kisses him. Their kiss is sloppy and desperate, bright red lipstick smudging across Johnny's face as Simon's bounced on his cock.

"Or the bordello." Kyle suggests, stashing the makeup items back in his purse. "Did you know Simon? Your friends visit it often. Do you think they'd notice it was your piggy cunt they were fucking if we dressed you up all pretty?"

Simon clenches his teeth and shuts his eyes. Johnny flicks the crown of his cock and it forces him to focus. "N-no, no, no- they-" He tries to say, shaking his head as best he can with mascara running down his cheeks. "They wouldn't- wouldn't know."

"Yae sure?" Johnny laughs and cracks his palm down on Simon's ass, his palm starting to form a reddening imprint in Simon's skin. "Ah could put money they'd know, yae're too loose ta not have taken cock from one of yer buddies." Simon's hole clenches tightly; he wants to blame it on the stinging pain in his ass, but the pleasure of the stretch forces him to confront the idea he's had before — of being bent over the desk by his captain when he fucks up again and being forced to take it.

Kyle smirks as they both moan, stepping back just enough to start undoing the tuck. His outfit for that night didn't need him to be perfectly smooth, so it's an easy process, though it's made harder by his own erection and the sounds Simon makes. They're loose and desperate, bouncing off the shitty tiled walls, he's sure the people outside can hear how well they're treating the local pig.

Kyle gives his cock a few dry strokes to get him fully hard, before spitting on his hand.

Simon startles when Kyle presses against his back again, only now he can feel his cock poking his ass, the leaking head occasionally flicking against his stretched hole when Johnny draws back to thrust into him. "Wh-what-"

"You wouldn't want to leave me out of the fun would you?" Kyle teases, wet fingers slinking down to poke at his taut rim. "This is going to be a tight fit." He muses, putting just a bit of pressure while Johnny continues to thrust into him, trying to find an angle where his finger could slip in alongside Johnny's cock.

"Wait- wait- wait- wait-Hm!-" Simon yowls when his finger slips in, whole body shaking like a leaf. It's tight, he feels like like he will tear just from taking a breath too quickly. He whines, unable to string a sentence, insides clenching the best they can as Kyle wiggles his finger alongside Johnny's cock.

"Don't worry," Johnny smirks, fisting Simon's cock. "We'll teach yae how a proper sow ought to relax." He strokes him slowly, planting his feet firmly on the ground to grind into him, turning his attention on minutely shifting his hips until he can zero in on Simon's prostate. He knows when he finds it by the way a trickle of cum spurts from his tip, Simon's back arching as he moans like a whore. "This sloppy piggy hole will be taking more than just us after all. We need ta make sure yae can take them."

Simon bites his lip at the humiliating thought of taking more, of having his insides forced apart and molded to more than just Johnny's cock. Of being turned into a fucking fag whore he arrests on the street. His cock twitches.

"Careful Tav, he looks like he'll blow." Kyle laughs, both of them slowing so he can push a second finger alongside Johnny's cock.

They take their time stretching him out now; it's a maddening process reserved for the worst sinner in the deepest pit of Hell, stuck between them both and unable to do anything but take it, to just feel himself slowly stretch open more than he ever imagined he could, his muscles struggling to fight back yet burning with the need to be forced to submit. He tiptoes on the edge between absolute bliss and torture, so close to cumming but Johnny's clenched fist prevents him, his balls aching from how full the feel.

Finally he's deemed ready, by his own traitorous body no less. "Pl-please!" He cries like a child, head limply resting against Johnny's shoulder. "-pleas- fuck fuck fuck -I need-" He cuts himself off before the shame can devour him, but it's too late as the two sharks slowly pushing him to insanity smell blood.

"Look at that Kyle." Johnny laughs cruelly, biting a very obvious hickey high on Simon's neck. "One cock up his ass and the piggy's turned into a fuckin' slag." A few hickeys descend down his neck, Soap's teeth grinding down on his skin just as he grinds up to smush his cockhead against Simon's prostate. "Yae reckon the other pigs are so easy ta convert tae the Devil? Or did we just get our hands on a secret whore?"

Kyle ignores Simon's pathetic incoherent babbling, spitting on his palm to further lube his cock. "No clue Tav." He grins and presses his cockhead against the taught rim of Simon's ass. "But we can always find out."

Johnny stops to let Kyle slide in, holding Simon still as he clenches and writhes on his cock. The hardest part is getting Kyle's head in. Soap swallows down Simon's pained moans as Kyle continues to apply consistent pressure until Simon's taut muscles finally give in and his head pops inside. All of them hiss as Kyle slowly pushes in, taking numerous long breaks to kiss Simon's nape and let him get used to it before continuing, a hard battle fought against Simon's body for each agonizing inch.

Finally his balls rest against Simon's ass, all of them panting like race dogs.

Simon sobs against Johnny's shoulder with his whole chest. This feeling - the stretch to his limits, the fullness in his body, the pain, the pleasure - it's better than the highest high he's gotten with MacTavish bouncing on his cock. The raw feeling of them inside him gnaws on Simon, it chews him up and spits him out a pathetic desperate man who buries his head in Johnny's shoulder and tries his best to clench down on them.

He tries his best to feel more of that gluttonous pleasure, hips twitching weakly despite the pain sizzling his spine. "Look at you sweetheart, barely got in you and you already want more." Kyle coos, running a soothing hand down Simon's back.

Johnny moves first, thrusting up into Simon and drawing a wet moan from him. "Then what are ye waitin' for?" He grins, loosely stroking Simon as they both start to move. "Not going to get a better invitation than this."

Simon's incoherent by this point, drooling against Johnny's shoulder as the two men take their time ruining him for anyone else. Simon's swept up in the motions of one pulling out as the other thrusts into him, lungs stuttering in an attempt to draw precious breath needed to whine and moan. Johnny's hand rests flat on his stomach where both of their cocks have made a noticeable bump, the sight of it driving all of them madder with lust.

Simon comes first to no one's surprise, screaming with a hoarse throat and weakly spurting his arousal across Johnny's sheer shirt when both of their cocks slam into his prostate.

"Look at that, squealed like a little pig." Johnny laughs, his own voice ragged, skin wet with sweat. They cum soon after, slamming into him and filling him up with their cum. Simon can't help but groan, slumping forward to rest against Johnny, completely fucked out. His insides cramp painfully as every inch available space is filled by their collective cum, but there's so much of it that it trickles from out of him despite his hole's best attempt to squeeze down on them.

They take a moment to rest, sharing the same air. Johnny tilts his head to kiss Kyle, his mouth dry. "Not bad for a sow." He grins as they part, nibbling on Simon's ear. He's surprised how Simon hasn't passed out by now, his chest still trembling with half formed sobs, the pain and pleasure burning in his head so there's no ability for any thoughts to form.

They hear a man clear his throat in the stall next to theirs. "Hope you boys had your fun." It's Price, gruff voice made huskier by his obvious lust. There's a shuffling of clothing before his fat cock pushes through the hole made in the stall wall. His cockhead is an angry red color, veins bulging across his shaft and a little drop of pre beads at his tip — he's been edging for a while. "Care if I join?"

Simon lets out a drunk sound, turning his head enough to catch sight of the cock poking out through the glory hole. Both men feel him weakly clench around their softening cocks.

Johnny grins, "Not at all sir."

pins i think 80's/90's punk fag johnny mactavish would wear (from here, here)

[fairyboygenius]

butch johnny either has a shaggy wolf cut or her hair is buzzed no in between

[fairyboygenius]

wip wednesday (on a wednesday? wow!)

for the summer camp au- butch!soap comforting you after a creepy counselor gets up in your space during staff week

@cowboyshadows @stellewriites @w00lgathering pspspsps

it doesn’t take long for soap to notice how biscuit’s in your face. his hand hovers over your arm, his eyes trained on your chest, and his breath hot against your neck.

your eyes are darting around, and you eventually excuse yourself to go sit down with your friends.

“tha feck was that?” soap blurts as you sit down, looking visibly shaken. everyone else exchanges a look, and she clears her throat. “you okay, bon?”

“is that ginger’s brother?” cherry asks, sympathetically rubbing your back. you nod.

“i can go to boss and dot for you, if you want,” snoopy muses, taking a long drink from her water bottle. “you know it’s a zero tolerance policy.”

“thanks.” you drink from your own water bottle. “i can do it myself, but if you wanna come for moral support, it would be much appreciated.”

soap knows that feeling all too well, and when biscuit heads for the table, she reaches for your hand. your fingers intertwine, and she squeezes twice, a quick signal for i’m here.

“birdie,” biscuit calls, walking over to the table. he looks at your friends, a sleazy smile. “hello, ladies.”

a chorus of unenthusiastic hellos seem to roll right off his back. he grins, turning to soap. “you must be the scot.”

“away an bile yer heid,” soap mutters. her accent’s gotten thicker, and you stifle a laugh.

biscuit tilts his head, the gesture deceptively innocent and puppyish. “what?”

“it’s a scottish expression,” soap replies dryly. “means nice to meet you.” you bury your head in her shoulder to keep from laughing, and you feel her heartbeat quicken against your cheek.

biscuit’s smile doesn’t falter. “can i steal birdie for a second?”

“nah,” soap says. she squeezes your hand again, and her eyes go soft. “i’m gonna keep ‘er fer a bit.”

biscuit lingers for a few seconds, then accepts defeat, hanging his head as he shuffles to an empty table. you almost feel bad for him, until you remember the way he stared at your chest. fuck him.

soap’s still holding your hand, and her other one cups your cheek, turning you to face her. her gaze is charged, a slight flush dusting the apples of her cheeks. her blue eyes spark as you make eye contact.

yeah. fuck him.

“let’s put ant eggs in his bed,” she whispers in your ear, and you can’t help but feel a shiver down your spine as you laugh.

“mentos in his diet coke.”

“sugar in his gas tank.”

“jolly ranchers on his windshield.”

“shaving cream in his shoes.”

“shit. we can’t get into commissary.”

soap looks at you, her expression both incredulous and teasing. “i’ll pay ghost tae do it.”

“can i keep you?” you ask, laughing, and soap bites her lip to keep from blurting yes.

[stellewriites]

wip wednesday

tagged by the talented & lovely @ohlawdthebirds last wip wednesday but alas i had nothing written, this week you can all have a snippet from ‘an occasion of sin’ my butch soap fic

context: johnny has a healing tongue piercing and can’t kiss or eat out reader for another week - she’s as impatient about it as you’d expect

cw: religion, sacrilegious metaphors (more in the main piece but just in case), hint of smut

she scratched at your scalp softly while holding you close. “don’t remember this in bible study.”

“i’ll happily catch you up to speed if you’re behind, i’m very studious,” you teased. you blew cold air against her wet nipple and giggled when she groaned. “but it has been a while…”

johnny pulled you up and kissed you firmly, managing to keep her tongue to herself only just.

“i can remind ye how it’s done,” she offered already moving to get you underneath her.

“mmm, you’ve still got a week to go with that,” you gestured at her tongue. “but it doesn’t mean i can’t put my mouth to work.”

“yer too good t’me,” she crooned. you settled back between her thick thighs and rested your hands in the creases of her groin. reaching down with your thumbs, you gently spread her pussy and took a deep breath. she’d been on a low dose of testosterone for a year now and it had a few side effects that you hadn’t realised would turn you on so much. a deeper tone to her voice, her scent becoming thicker, and her taste…

cutting off here so i don’t give you any spoilers for the main event 🤭 should be out soon-ish but im back at work now which will slow me down considerably ://

npt to share what ur working on: @pricegouge @soapcloth @3amfanfiction @pricetagged @syoddeye @jackrabbitem

[unclelarry151]

Current masterlist of taken characters! WE NEED CANON ROLEPLAYERS!!

Cpt. John Price | OPEN

Lt. Simon "Ghost" Riley | OPEN

Sgt. Kyke "Gaz" Garrick | OPEN

Sgt. Johnny "Soap" Mactavish | OPEN

Gen. Shepherd | OPEN

Kate Laswell | OPEN

Col. Alejandro Vargas | OPEN

Sgt. maj. Rodolfo Para | OPEN

Nikolai | OPEN

Farah Karim | OPEN

Alex Keller | OPEN

Valeria Garza | OPEN

Cmdr. Philip Graves | RESERVED

Jesus "Chuy" Ordaz | OPEN

Sobieslaw "Gromsko" Kościuszko | OPEN

Gustavo "Gus" Rodriguez | OPEN

Kleopatros "Kleo" Gavras | OPEN

Zé "Luna" Míngzhū | OPEN

Nila "Nova" Brown | OPEN

Enzo Reyes | OPEN

Zhiqiang "Zimo" Huang | OPEN

Daniel "Ronin" Shinoda | OPEN

Io | OPEN

Butch | OPEN

Arthur | OPEN

Tor "Aksel" Eriksen | OPEN

Calisto Allard | OPEN

Declan O'Conor | OPEN

"Fender" Takacs | OPEN

Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin | OPEN

Darnell "Hutch" Hutchinson | OPEN

"König" | OPEN

Rozlin "Roze" Helms | OPEN

Salvatrice "Stiletto" Muselli | OPEN

Sami "Zero" Zakaria | OPEN

Hiro "Oni" Watanabe | OPEN

Zosar "Zeus" Kalu | OPEN

Klaus Fisker | OPEN

Atom | OPEN

Ana Vega | OPEN

Izzy | OPEN

Osmond "Oz" Ryan | OPEN

Mila | OPEN

Velikan | OPEN

Mace | OPEN

𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘮

⠀⠀⠀   "   ante aciem.   "       

|  monster!au mw2 roleplay

ANTE ACIEM takes place pre-betrayal in an alternate universe in which monsters co-exist amongst their human counterparts. While the majority of the world’s population (and the military) is human, speciation has occurred to create a unique and diverse range of hybridization. 

We are a 16+ LITERATE roleplay server. All members are expected to write in a literate to advanced literate style. One-liners and unnecessarily short responses will not be tolerated, effort is expected to be placed into your replies. 

Come claim and create unique characters, monster and human alike.

 |  INFORMATION

16+

literate to advanced literate/novella

MANY canon characters are open!!

SFW

more if i think of adding things to this

This server is new and a WIP, I would love help setting it up! We are in need of active members! <3

「 https://discord.gg/juQ3QnuQuf 」

[pricetagged]

Navigation

Hello, welcome. You can call me Báir, Báirseach, pricetagged, tagged, whatever (she/any) (: Summaries, content info. and links to Ao3 can be found by clicking the titles below the cut.

All COD (this is a sideblog. Main username, likes, follows are different).

18+ only MDNI.

I post dark content (labelled and tagged) as well as other.

Please do not repost or feed to AI.

Will write for reader/all the 141 boys, and possibly some nikolai and nikto and others.

Will not write: underage, necro, scat, beastiality, infidelity, animal or child abuse. May add more as I think of it. Anything else is fair game, though (see dark warning above).

Hopefully, it goes without saying, but no racism, classicm, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, etc., etc.

Asks are open - feel free to send a message.

Anons: 🐙👻

Tags: báirseachwrites ; báirseachrambles ; báirseachasks; báirseachtags

Simon 'Ghost' Riley/ Reader

(don't you know) that death is a very stable job Knight!Simon AU, 18+. part i 4.8k l part ii 8.9k

sacrum 2.7k simon grieving reader's death in a deeply unhealthy way. GN. Angst.

butcher paper 2.2k drabbly thing with young, butcher's apprentice!simon falling for and defending plus-size!reader.

fool's gold (pyrite) 3.8k Pirate AU Hangman!Ghost 18+ dc

Simon 'Ghost' Riley/John 'Soap' MacTavish/ Reader

fields, doxies, demesne 12.6k Puca/Fae!Ghoap AU - 18+, dark

orcish 1.2k fantasy!ghoap scammers - kidnapping

Simon 'Ghost' Riley/ John Price/ Reader

lorica 2.2k kidnapping ficlet - dark

Captain John Price/ Reader

the hand that feeds drabble series, tbc - dark, 18+. Obsessive, possessive John/married reader. Stalking. Sabotage.

John 'Soap' MacTavish/ Reader

melrose 9.9k vampire!Johnny AU - 18+, dark

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick/ Reader

raft of the leucothea 1.5k shipwrecked ficlet.

Drabbles and Thoughts (<300 words)

Simon gives a massage

Butch lesbian Soap

Simon 'The Menu' AU

Price 'Misery' AU

Price 'Car Trouble Kink'

Simon lives in your house

Stalker in your house (pairing up to you)

141 hire a maid for Price

[stellewriites]

master list,, 18+ mdni

my writing tag is stelle writes n that - you can find all of my writing under that tag and on my masterlist.

john price

toxic ex!john ao3 link

wc: >800. tags: dark fic, stalking, f!reader.

john doesn't take no for an answer.

autistic!reader x john thoughts ao3 link

wc: 7.8k. tags: fluff, gn!reader.

little snippets about what john would be like with an autistic partner.

already spoken for ao3 link

wc: 24.5k. tags: fluff, multi chapter, fake dating, romcom vibes/tropes, smut, trans john price, f!reader.

when john gets an unexpected invite to his ex-wife’s wedding, he scrambles to find a suitable date to take with him to ward off old ghosts from his past.

john’s wife ao3 link

wc: 1.8k. tags: twist ending, f!reader.

john’s wife isn’t common knowledge around base.

retainers aren’t so bad ao3 link

wc: 1.5k. tags: meet cute, flirty, gn!reader.

you forget to take you retainer out when you got to the pub

needy

wc: tbd. tags: smut, gn!reader.

after some time away, price needs to feel you skin to skin. will you let him?

simon ‘ghost’ riley

online seller ao3 link

wc: 1.3k. tags: allusion to stalking, f!reader.

you buy a second-hand sweatshirt online and the seller seems so sweet.

morning breath

wc: >130. tags: fluff, f!ghost, f!reader.

you’ve been dating butch!ghost for a while now

by the edge of the sun ao3 link

wc: 8.4k. tags: fluff, mutual pining, f!ghost, f!reader.

it’s easier said than done trying not to catch feelings for your new roommate, butch!simon

next stop, strapford station ao3 link

wc: 3.1k. tags: smut, voyeurism, f!ghost, f!reader.

your commute to work takes an exciting turn with butch!simon.

mango-meme.jpeg

wc: tbd. tags: allusion to smut, gn!reader.

he’s a messy eater.

need to catch my breath

wc: tbd. tags: light stalking, panty stealing, smut, public frotting/fingering.

you catch the attention of a lifeguard when you take your nieces swimming on afternoon and an accident in the car park brings the two of you face to face.

johnny ‘soap’ mactavish

cbf!johnny

wc: >120. tags: allusion to smut, f!reader.

its cold, you should help a guy out.

trans!soap

wc: >50. tags: allusion to smut, allusion to ghoap, f!reader.

soap asks for a favour from his lt.

2xl shirt (plus original post) ao3 link

wc: 3.2k. tags: smut, public sex, meet cute?, f!reader.

you put your foot in it during work one day when a customer sends in a complaint regarding your gym’s workwear sizes.

you keep johnny happy however when he comes in to make the return.

western horror ao3 link fanvid by serastonins

wc: 1.3k. tags: western au, horror, f!reader.

a marriage of convenience becomes the complete opposite one fateful night.

an occasion of sin ao3 link

wc: 5.8k. tags: religious themes, smut, f!johnny, f!reader.

your girlfriend, butch!johnny, gets an invite back home for easter mass and you convince her to take you along for the ride.

come on over, i’ll adore you ao3 link

wc: >400. tags: captain mactavish & sergeant mactavish, jealousy, f!reader.

the two soaps meet and clash.

sweet kisses in my embrace

wc: tbd. tags: smut, noncon/dubcon, frotting, minor cum play, messy, intense johnny, drunk reader, f!reader.

your date with johnny isn’t as romantic as you’d planned.

kyle ‘gaz’ garrick

firefighter!gaz ao3 link

wc: 1.8k. tags: meet cute, flirty, nerdy kyle, gn!reader.

after being tasked with looking after your neighbour's cat, you're left with no choice but to ring for help when the sneaky furball gets himself stuck up a tree - you can't complain at who comes to save the day however.

trade baby blues for wide-eyed browns ao3 link

wc: 1.5k. tags: meet cute, flirty, f!reader.

After seeing your ex with his new partner in your local pub, you go outside for a smoke to distract yourself.

You bump into Kyle who manages to wipe the memory of your ex away completely.

‘nice guy’ kyle ao3 link

wc: >190. tags: hinted noncon, f!reader.

‘nice guy’ kyle part 2

wc: >160. tags: hinted noncon, somnophilia, f!reader.

the lengths he'd go to to get in your favour.

and harmonise ao3 link

wc: 2k. tags: aro!gaz, ace!reader, qpr, fluff, friends to lovers?, gn!reader.

you and gaz discuss how you’ll make it work.

lucky ao3 link

wc: 6.1k. tags: fluff, ace!gaz, meet cute, f!gaz, f!reader.

you meet a gorgeous stud with a few tricks up her sleeve at a bar.

my silver tongue, your golden eyes

wc: tbd. tags: space pirate au, f!gaz, f!reader.

you accidentally steal from space pirate gaz and she has an offer you can’t refuse. sailpunk lesbians.

poly141

choices made in anger ao3 link

wc: 6.8k. tags: mean 141, noncon touching, kidnapping, emotional manipulation, f!reader.

Not one to often back down, you feel your shitty day get even worse when you spot a group of guys hovering around your car in the pub car park and storm over without a second thought.

It's far from your best idea and it certainly doesn't go how you'd planned.

poly141 summer thoughts ao3 link

wc: >630. tags: allusion to smut, soft & sweet, simon focused.

the boys have a bbq and simon feels well-loved.

ghoap

the outsider to an inside joke ao3 link

wc: 8.8k. tags: established ghoap, mean ghoap, somnophilia, smut, dubcon & noncon, voyeurism, gn!reader.

You finally get your shit together and take that trip to Scotland that you’d always wanted. Finding a cheap shared apartment in the heart of Edinburgh was lucky, the host - Johnny - being such a sweetheart was just the cherry on top.

Johnny double booking the spare room, was a bit of a snag in your plans however, especially when the guy - Simon - was reluctant to go anywhere any time soon. Looks like you’d be sharing a room for the week.

ghost tattoo thoughts ao3 link

wc: >800. tags: simon focused, no reader, mention of simon’s past and brother.

thoughts on what other tattoos simon might have and why.

tiger bread ao3 link

wc: 1.5k. tags: fluff, established relationship, f!reader.

cuddling with your boyfriends never gets old.

keeping warm in winter

wc: <300. tags: pre-relationship, no reader, johnny focused, fluff.

a little thought about what the boys wear in winter at home.

every sort of day ao3 link

wc: 1.7k. tags: fluff, established relationship, sick fic, f!reader.

being ill isn’t easy, but it’s made easier with loving partners.

soapgaz

dog meat ao3 link

wc: 28.3k. tags: horror, smut, noncon, somnophilia, abusive relationship (reader&husband), murder, f!reader.

by chance you and your emotionally unavailable husband meet a friendly couple that invite you stay at their farmhouse in scotland. however the time spent there with johnny & kyle has you questioning if there’s a dark side to them you didn’t see before.

speak no evil au

minimum wage ao3 link

wc: <100. tags: public sex, masturbation, gn!reader.

you don’t get paid enough for this.

priceghost

so tenderly ao3 link

wc: >300. tags: noncon, established priceghost, smut, gn!reader.

looking for a one night stand ends in a big surprise.

miscellaneous

a helping hand ao3 link

wc: >600. tags: meet cute, flirty, university/college au, gn!reader.

(for cali’s nameless challenge) in class you get stumped by a word puzzle, but the handsome man behind you helps you out.

firefighter!laswell ao3 link

wc: 1.4k. tags: meet cute, flirty, useless cook reader, f!reader.

after setting off the fire alarm in your apartment too many times, you gain the attention of a hot firefighter.

fem!141 gym thirst traps

wc: <700. tags: horny thoughts about buff women with pics, suggested soapgaz, gn!reader.

a little look into what the girls would send you while they’re hard at work

[note: i write with mid/plus size readers in mind, some fics have this explicitly stated/described whereas others keep reader's appearance body neutral. there are no other descriptors of reader made evident in the fics.]

amazing cod dividers by @/gildui