#soap gif

[iris-stimblog]

Refreshing Rose

Stimboard

[brav0-6]

THE PRICE PAT™️ | CALL OF DUTY: MODERN WARFARE II & III

[scimitar-and-longsword]

Me lovingly booping you all, 141 style <3

[yumethefrostypanda]

Bravo 7-1 🧼

[v1x3n]

[deadunderorbit]

nod nod nod

[evilgwrl]

What abt 141xpregnant!reader (or not pregnant, ur choice, I dont mind!!) And someone gets into their house and reader is all alone so she calls the boys while they're out (somewhere idk)

can be angst or fluff <3

Thank you for this idea, I hope I did it justice for you anon <3

CW: Threats of violence (not against reader), break ins, fluff

You stared at yourself in the glossy reflection, soaked rag scented with the unmistakable smell of cleaning spray dabbing at the final fingerprint, a satisfied grin on your face. You hobbled to the kitchen, ankles slightly swollen as a hand rubbed against the plushness of your belly, a gentle kick answering you back.

You felt content. You were six months pregnant and surrounded by four incredibly devoted men (who were currently running all the errands you could no longer do). Gentle feet padded against the wooden floorboards, your back humming with a subtle ache as you groaned, your body flopping down against your comfiest pillow.

Wispy lashes fell over curled lids, the zip of a fan hushing you to sleep. You awoke to rustling, your window cracked open for fresh air.

“Stupid foxes,” you muttered, rolling towards the window to shoo the pesky creatures away from your vegetables. Your heart halted, however, face a pasty shade of terror as you watched a figure, much larger than a fox, break the glass to your back door, the stone floor of your patio humming against the shards of crystal.

Pesky fingers reached for your phone, a monotone strain coming from your throat as you phoned for Price, eyes now a glassy bowl of unshed tears.

“Hey love, you ok?” The normally comforting tone only spurred your anxiety as you choked out a sob, an instant call of your name blasting through the speakers of the phone.

“There’s someone inside the house,” you choked out, your voice a mere whisper as you huddled in the corner, fingers twisting the lock on your bedroom door.

“Call Gaz in the meantime; we’ll be home in 10 minutes.”

You were a whimpering mess, swollen body trembling in your ensuite as Gaz attempted to calm you down, telling you the police were on the way. There was a commotion downstairs, kitchenware clattering as you presumed, he was rummaging around. Timber creaked under a lead foot, stairs straining under the man's weight as he stomped upstairs.

“Kyle, he’s upstairs,” you trembled, your throat constricted with a coil of anxiety as your limbs tremored, a protective hand strung across the swell of your belly. The Sergeant’s voice brought you no comfort as you heard the door to the nursery swing open, the squeak of a baby toy rattling against the wood. Your gut was burning, tender hands clutching against the marble counter in a motion to hold yourself up, your knees locking up as you clattered to the floor.

Price’s hands were stained permanent ivory, his knuckles protruding from broken skin as he pulled down your street, head beams flickering at the cars before calloused tyres screeched down a turning lane, the bulky SUV swerving into the driveway. Simon had rummaged through the glovebox on the first ring of your call, massive frame bouldering out of the unparked car as his keys twitched in the door, the steady frame of Soap in toe.

Rough fingers wrapped around carbon steel, silent footsteps thrumming against wallpaper as you shifted in the bathroom, gentle sobs wracking through your body.

You were unaware of what was going on outside your bedroom, the faint sounds of a man’s voice, unrecognisable through the thickness of the walls only spurring anxiety shrill of terror through you.

You knew they would never let anything happen to you, but what if something happened to them in the process? Sure, they were trained for combat but that doesn’t make you invincible.

You clutched your stomach, humming to yourself in an attempt to calm down.

Simon was livid, they all were. The house you had built for them all years ago was now tainted. A place you should be safe in was no longer available.

Soap’s voice was sharp as he entered the nursery, enjoying the twisted satisfaction of watching the intruder still as the safety of the gun unlocked.

“You make a f’cking movement and I’ll put a bullet in ye head, ye hear me?”

There was a slow nod from the man as Ghost entered, slamming him against the wall with a crash, his hands tied behind his back as he lunged him down the stairs. There was a faint echo of sirens in the distance as you sheltered yourself, still unsure of what was happening.

There was a rattle against the door, a soft voice calling out to you.

“It’s just me, love. Open the door.”

The doorknob felt crumbly under your touch, fingers barely able to twist it. Price’s body was warm as he engulfed your shaking figure, wet cheeks staining his shirt in a soppy mess. Thick hands grabbed at the plush of your thighs, lifting you with ease into burly arms, the tickle of his moustache against your ears as he lolled a soft apology to you.

“Shouldn’t ‘ave left you alone dove, feel like I failed you.”

The captain’s heart was bleak, an ephemeral feeling of guilt worn on his shoulder before you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, soggy lips placing a feathery kiss upon the worn skin.

“It’s not your fault, John. Could’ve happened to anyone on our street.”

The night was slow, Gaz consoling the police as Soap and Price comforted you, tending to your every need as Ghost stood outside, dark eyes glaring into the back of the police van at the man. You assured them you were okay, delicate hands rubbing your belly as you cooed, your heart finally returning to its normal bpm.

Once the blaring of red and blue lights simmered to a halt, and Ghost had run out to get a replacement door (otherwise, he wouldn’t have slept from keeping guard all night), you could fully relax. Your body was flush against the comfort of your L-shaped couch and Simon’s calloused back, fingers running through the roots of your hair.

Your eyes succumbed to temporary slumber at the touch, scalp tingling from the simplicity of gentle tugs. You were carried to bed, arms balled at the soft cotton of Soap’s shirt you had stolen. You nestled quickly into the comfort of your bed, lashes flat against your cheeks.

They all watched you, hands folded as they watched the rise of your chest, a flutter of breath leaving your lips every time it fell.

“Beautiful, ain’t she?” Price mumbled, cerulean eyes lapping in the mere sight of you, a proud glow comforting him knowing you were theirs.

“Damn right,” Ghost grunted.

There was a creak against the floorboards as your eyes opened, your voice delicate with sleep, “Will you guys stay tonight? All of you? Please.”

“Shoot us in the head if we ever say no to anything you say,” Soap uttered, a gentle slap whacking around his head from Simon as Kyle leaned into the bed, heavy hands immediately wrapping around your swell belly.

The night ended with whispers of affirmation and one happy girl.

[kruegerspillow]

Task Force 141 + what they'd do when you're unwell

creators note: ive been feeling unwell these past few days so im just trying to feed myself with his LMAO anyways i hope u all enjoy this

warnings: mentions of vomiting and drinking, swearing, reader nearly overdosing and having troubles with sleep :( not proofread!

Simon was probably already suspicious when he entered the house. You didn't greet him like you usually do.

He also did not spot you sitting down on the living room couch, so he thought that you were probably sleeping (though his brain was screaming at him to find you)

He just throws his bags aside and basically sprinted

The moment he entered your room to see you sleeping, he immediately relaxed

But after seeing the ungodly amount of bottle of pills on the nightstand? No.

He immediately went to look at them just to realize that you've been struggling with stress and lack of sleep

He softly shakes your shoulders to wake you up (he hopes you don't notice the way his fingers trembled)

"Love, please wake up. 'm home."

And if you don't wake up, he'll start being a bit rougher, squeezing your shoulder and frantically shaking them. His heart dropped.

"Wake up. Stop jokin' around, it's not bloody funny."

As soon as you wake up, his breath hitches and he pulls you into a tight embrace; the air in your lungs being squeezed out by the overwhelming pressure

Does not lecture you at this point, he's the one needing reassurance

"Christ, don't ever do that again, you 'ear me?"

He will take good care of you and would lecture you after he'd relaxed and cleaned you up

He'll shower with you, buy your favorite takeout, listen to the stories he'd missed during deployment, anything.

This moment will stick onto him like a curse. He won't ever forget about this and be more alert and observant around you, out of fear that you might overdose once again.

As he entered the house, he was greeted by the sound of you gagging

He froze up, the exhaustion leaving his body

He immediately sprinted to the bathroom and threw his bags aside

"Fuck, what's 'appening? Are you alright? You bloody hurt?"

You were on your knees, looking up at him with teary eyes, and just as you were about to reply, you vomited into the toilet

He would sink onto his knees with you, hands tangled in your hair as you continued to vomit into the toilet

He winced while watching you, brows furrowing as thoughts scattered in his mind

When you finished, he immediately scrambled back up and took a cup of warm water

He'll be asking you a lot of questions, and you won't be avoiding it. Well, you can't anyway

When he realized it's just a hangover from last night, he glares at you

"You shouldn't be drinkin' too much in the first place, love. You've got me worried to death."

Despite the lecturing, he is still worried

Expect him to carry you around like a sack of potatoes, you're not allowed to walk for now

He will be cuddling with you all day and night, don't worry, he'll keep you warm

He'll be cooking and providing you with all kinds of stuff too. Painkillers, food, snacks, anything.

"What do ya want to eat, sweet'eart? I'll cook for ya, don't worry."

He's just a worried gentleman. Don't drink too much next time, will you?

After entering the living room, his expression dropped when hearing you groan in your room.

He'll call you once or twice from the living room, patiently waiting for a reply.

"... Bonnie? Ye alrigh' up there?"

Literally does not waste any time when you answered with a grunt

Runs up the stairs like he'd been chased by zombies.

Knocks on your door softly before opening the door, peeking his head inside. His gaze was met with your back.

He enters your room with a worried expression, closing the door behind him before walking towards you, kneeling in front of you

He notices the unusual warmth radiating from your body as you frowned, a pout in your expression

His hand went up to press the back of his hand to your forehead, before pulling away with a small ach.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, yer burnin', ye ken?"

"It's too cold here, Johnny..."

He is immediately more alert now, looking at you with a confused expression. How'd you get sick out of nowhere? You were just fine the other day.

"Wait 'ere, I'll get ye some water."

He walks out of your room in hurry before returning with a cup of warm water, paracetamol and a lukewarm washcloth.

He placed those items aside before his hands went to your sides, shifting you up.

"Up ye go. C'mon bonnie, yer gonna be jus' fine."

Sounds like he's trying to reassure himself more than you

Helps you drink the warm water slowly before handing you the paracetamol. He places them on the nightstand before laying you back down on the bed.

After placing the washcloth on your forehead, he crawls over to your side before embracing you in his arms, ignoring your protests of him getting sick because of you.

He ends up taking care of you until you're feeling better. He'll never leave your side and will get you anything you want.

Very worried after finding out you have a flu. He doesn't care if it's a small one, but he hides it surprisingly well

As soon as he returned home, he placed the bags on the couch neatly before walking to your room.

He already bought groceries and some of your favorite snacks.

Knocks on your door before entering your room with bags of your long-awaited snacks and gifts.

"Good mornin' love, how're you feelin' today, eh?"

He placed the items on your nightstand before grabbing the pills and a cup of water.

Helps you drink your medicine before placing them aside, his expression softening at your weakened state.

He crawls over to you, keeping his composure calm before laying on top of you; making sure that he doesn't crush you entirely.

He won't let you push him away, though he knows the risks of being around you when you're sick like this. He doesn't care, he'd been through worse, anyway. He's a soldier, sweetheart.

Tickles your neck with his beard when he's placing a few kisses on them

Whispers sweet words into your ear, softly holding you until you fall asleep.

"I'm 'ere, love. Don't worry, yeah? I'll take good care of you, you'll be safe with me."

His heart ached at soft sight of you. He won't ever let go of you and let you do things by yourself until you recover from this damned sickness.

Does everything else for you. Chores, cooking, groceries, etc. He loves you very much, :)

kruegerspillow © 2024 — reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[femalefemur]

Soap MacTavish || MW2 Live-Action Teaser Trailer

[sylusfruitss]

Btw I'm not done with Soap gifs quite yet!

Btw as if the helicopter scene from the zombies trailer was enough!

If you use or repost this gif, please credit me! Thank you!

[writingfromasgard]

Masterlist - Ko-fi

An: I'm currently on vacation. Any asks won't receive answers immediately.

Cw: pregnancy, female reader, wife sharing

Johnny is puzzled as to why he can't seem to stop looking at Price's pregnant wife. Despite her belly being a small bump, Price keeps rubbing it as if it were bigger.

Doll swats away his hand and tells him to stop, saying it makes others uncomfortable. Price then looks at Johnny, his eyes crinkling, and reassures Doll that they are not feeling uncomfortable.

Johnny spends most of the gathering trying not to stare at Doll's belly. He can't help but imagine her getting rounder, showing more, or feeling little kicks against his palm.

He excuses himself to the bathroom because his dick seems to have a mind of its own. The cold water he splashes on his face doesn't help, and coming face-to-face with Doll as he opens the door doesn't make things any better.

Her hand grabs his and puts it on the small bump. Johnny hates how his body responds. Doll mumbles something about how Price thought he might want to feel it since he's never been around a pregnant woman before.

Johnny's drowning in his own thoughts, thinking about all the times he's heard that pregnant pussy feels hotter, wetter, more sensitive.

When everyone leaves, Price signals to Johnny to hang back and stay a little longer. He's had more to drink than the others, so he should stay the night, his thoughtful Captain Price explains.

Although Johnny barely touched any alcohol, he takes the hint to stay.

Johnny finds Doll, all unwrapped, in the guest bedroom. His hands find that swelling belly and Doll works his pants open.

He can't remember the last time he's been this hard for so long, hands firmly on Doll's belly as he gets drunk on the sensation. The moans, gasps - he's cumming on her stomach before he realizes it.

Price is chuckling at the doorway, mumbling something about Doll needing to take it easier on Johnny.

[theautismzone]

𝘎3 𝘉𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘚𝘦𝘵𝘴

x x x x x x x x x

[brav0-6]

cold biter // snow suit ❄️🧊

[lay-z]

Thinking about steamy shower sex with a pent up and touch starved soap after his deployment, you would have sent him countless teasing pictures and videos throughout his mission and now he is aching to get bay back by hoisting you up and pressing against the glass door of the shower cabin with your legs wrapped around his muscular and chiseled waist/hips. Could you please write something about that ? I'm definitely aching to read it with your writing style

Thank you for your ask, nonny! 🥰 Since you didn’t specify a gender, I’m going to go with female!Reader since that’s what I always do. Btw, I’d totally write for a x male!Reader if someone would request something. *hint hint* 👀 And if you can’t tell, I am a huge slut for desperate and needy men 😩 Sorry if this isn’t exactly what you’d asked for! 🩷 xoxo

MDNI, 18+ | tw: slight cnc kink; shower sex; needy/desperate!Soap; unprotected sex/creampie; premature ejaculation; not proof-read

Johnny catches you off guard while you’re taking a shower; singing and performing for an imaginary crowd like you always do when you’re in a particularly good mood.

Your eyes are squeezed shut to keep the shampoo from stinging them; the hot shower stream is pelting down on your flushed skin, steaming up the cabin and turning the glass foggy while your head it tipped back as you wash the suds from your hair, still humming a tune like a true Disney princess.

You stand no chance like this. Johnny could hear you as soon as he’d unlocked the front door to your shared flat, dropping his heavy duffel back in the entrance hallway and kicking off his boots with a soft huff. His bad knee is aching, his whole body sore like he got run over by a Humvee, but he can deal with the physical pain.

It’s the way his chest feels tight and hollow simultaneously, his rugged features set in an emotionless frown, which has him more worried as he passes by the small vintage mirror mounted above the shoe rack in the hallway. He’s practically gone non-verbal since stepping foot onto the airfield back on base. His dark stubble has grown out as much as his Mohawk, the bags under his eyes darker; his usually bright eyes now dull with fatigue, giving him a grim expression.

With his last shreds of energy, he starts peeling off his combat clothes on his way towards the bathroom, groaning under his breath as he pulls the tight compression shirt over his head, muscles screaming and aching with the effort as he lifts his arms up. His pants follow, along with his boxer briefs, and Johnny wrinkles his nose at his own body odour; the stench of sweat and blood and death lingering in every crease, caked into his pores. Steamin’ Jesus, he smells ripe…

But you’ll make it better, you always do. He can already feel your phantom touch on his bruised skin; soft palms running over his body, slicked up by nicely scented soap and warm water, and you’ll learn it all anew after weeks apart from each other. Johnny lets out a shuddering groan while his cock starts swelling and twitching, blood rushing in his veins by the sheer imagination of you touching him.

He doesn’t announce himself, can’t even crack a smile at the sight of you, when he sneaks into the bathroom. He’s not even trying to be quiet, but the way his mind is still in the field, makes him watch his steps and open the door in a way that’s silent.

When he slips into the shower cabin behind you, still so blissfully unaware of his presence, his chest expands with a deep breath, inhaling the moist and sweet air. His cock is rock hard, ruddy tip weeping against his lower stomach, coating his bushy pubes with his thick precum; thick and milky, because he hasn’t come in days and his balls are hurting as bad as the rest of his body.

Your eyes shoot open despite the suds still running down your face when you’re grabbed from behind; lungs burning with a sudden, instinctual shriek ripped from your throat, though it’s immediately muffled by a large, grubby hand clasping over your mouth while another strong arm wraps around your midriff, pinning your arms to your sides before pulling your back flush against a solid and equally naked body.

You know it’s him, your Johnny. There is no one else, beside his teammates perhaps, who could break into your flat. The feeling of his body moulding itself behind you, his hand over your mouth, lips latching onto and biting down on the curve of your shoulder while his beard irritates your warm skin – it’s all too familiar to be anyone else. Still, your heart is hammering violently against your ribcage while the lack of oxygen in your lungs is slowly making you dizzy. You slump back against Johnny and he catches you with a pleased rumble in his buff, hairy chest.

“Missed ye.” That’s all he murmurs against your ear at first, gruff and raspy like he hasn’t spoken all day, while your blood keeps rushing with adrenaline; shower stream still steadily raining down on you.

You whimper against his palm, in the far back of your throat, nostrils’ flaring with sharp intakes of breath as your body tries to calm down from the initial shock.

His arm loosens around your waist and he rubs his hand in large circles over your soft, wet stomach instead, wanting to get rid of the dirt and grime before he’d even consider touching your delicate pussy, no matter how desperate he’s feeling for you.

“Need ye, hen,” he mutters, tongue flicking your ear lobe while his hand over your mouth cups you right below your jaw next, “Need ta feel yer warm cunny squeezin’ ma cock. Fuck–! Can I?”

When you’re able to slip your arms free of his grasp, you reach for his hand on your belly, lifting it up to inspect it for any new cuts and bruises as you wash it for him while he’s already grinding his cock against your ass cheeks, his breathing becoming ragged against the nape of your neck. You can already tell in what state of mind he’s in, your poor, sweet Johnny.

And you’re not even ashamed of how slick your pussy has gotten since Johnny grabbed you, when there was a split second when your brain and body had braced themselves for–

Something dark and twisted you shouldn’t be thinking about right now.

“Missed you, too, baby,” you manage to reply when his now clean hand slips between your thighs to cup your pussy. “Take what you need. I’m all yours.”

Johnny whines, breath catching in his chest when he can already feel his balls tighten, painfully so, while his meaty fingers drag through your smooth folds, feeling your warmth and slick arousal, before he rubs your swelling clit roughly. Your flesh is soft and warm, supple under the pressure of his fingertips, unlike the cold steel and metal he’s been handling for the past weeks on his deployment.

He snarls and huffs against your shoulder when your quaking thighs squeeze his prodding hand after he slipped two fingers into your sopping hole at once, and he fingers you slowly and deeply until he feels your velvety walls loosen up around his digits, clamping down whenever he curls his fingers to nudge your sweet spot while he gropes your sudsy tits and tugs on your pretty nipples with his other hand, keeping you pressed against his body.

But his patience and need for you start to overwhelm him as his cock keeps straining and leaking against your ass, begging to be sheathed inside of your welcoming cunt with a mind of its own.

“Turn ‘round f’me,” he growls, already turning you around to him by your shoulders to finally catch a glimpse of your beautiful face and heated gaze. His cock twitches; another desperate whine is torn from his throat. “C’mere.”

He positions his feet carefully on the ceramic tiles, braces himself to support both your bodies as he lifts you up by the back of your thighs, fingers digging into skin and fat as he hoists you up and pushes you against the slippery shower wall. When your back arches away from the sudden chill of the tiles and your lips part with a breathy gasp, Johnny doesn’t hesitate to crush his lips onto yours, licking into your mouth obscenely just to feel and taste as much as he can at once.

He keeps your thighs spread wide apart and pliant for him, his own hips slotting between your legs, muscles bunching and flexing with exertion as he keeps you pinned against the wall while your arms wrap around his muscular shoulders. He’s grimacing at the burning ache in his body as he holds you, but he needs you. Fuck, he needs you so badly; panting and groaning into your mouth, brows furrowed in concentration as he grinds his flushed cock against your folds desperately.

And his eyes squeeze shut with a shuddering breath when you reach down between your bodies to grasp his thick cock and push it into your quivering hole for him.

His head drops forward with a rough moan, so loud and desperate that it resonates inside the bathroom, and his forehead rests against your collarbone as he sinks deeper into your warm, welcoming channel without any resistance. He can tell that you’re aroused for him, that you need him as much as he needs you, and it nearly makes him dizzy.

His muscles start trembling when he starts thrusting slowly and shallowly, barely able to move at all while his ass cheeks tighten and flex as your cunt flutters around his shaft, sucking him in deeper until he bottoms out. The way you moan so sweetly for him and the warm water raining down on the both of you continuously, only adds to the pleasurable sensations, forcing Johnny to relax and cave in while the tight coil in his belly teeters on snapping already.

Johnny grits his teeth and can barely speak, his words coming out a garbled mess. “Fuck–F-Fuck… ‘m gonna cum, hen. ‘m so sorry.”

He apologizes, feels terrible for disappointing you like this again, but you simply wrap your arms tighter around his neck, holding him together and breaking him apart as you whisper sweet nothing’s into his ear. His balls tighten and the pressure almost brings him to his knees, but he manages to catch himself at the last moment before he cries out and buries his face into your neck to muffle his pathetic sounds while his cock pumps his thick load into your eager pussy, coating and claiming your gummy walls with his cum.

“I’m sorry, ‘m sorry.” Johnny keeps chanting and whining against your wet skin, mouthing along the curve of your neck while he keeps rolling his hips into you desperately, fucking himself through overstimulation and exhaustion just to try and make you feel good, too, while you hush and coo praises into his ear, carding your fingers through his hair soothingly.

[temeyes]

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