jerrykiki

[lumibuns-blog]

Ghost x Soap's roomie Morning routine

Ghosts and Gaz stay the week and Soap's apartment. Ghost falls head over heels for you and can't seem to think of anything else.

This time its just Simon having not felt the touch of a women in years and that being so so obvious lmaooo.

Simon woke up from a surprisingly restful sleep, his back may have been shifted into a less than ideal position and his legs were sticking out over the arm rest, but he woke up mostly rested. Stretching and cracking his back with a low groan, he shuffled to the kitchen. 8:32, his internal clock had graciously given him an extra two minutes of sleep before waking him on instinct. He dragged a hand over his tired face and slumped over to the bathroom. He hissed as his eyes adjusted to the bright bathroom light and he looked at himself in the mirror.

It had gotten hot in the middle of the night, and so his sweat pants had been discarded somewhere by the couch, leaving him in only his low hanging boxer shorts. He looked like a pure mess, short hair tussled in every direction, prominent bags hung under his eyes but still did nothing to distract from the scars that littered his face. He pinched his brow and tried to remember where he had left his face mask the night before. For the first time in a long time, he found himself hyperaware of his own appearance. It wasn't just his "ugly mug" anymore, he found himself wondering if there was some way he could get those stubborn bags to disappear. But he couldn't quite understand why he wanted to look "better", his head too foggy with sleep to place these emotions somewhere. Until there was a muffled shuffling outside the open bathroom door, he turned to find the source of the noise and felt his mind snap back into the right place almost immediately.

There you stood, in perhaps the tiniest pair of shorts he had ever seen and tight white tank-top that was nothing short of see-thru. He tensed up and dragged his eyes up your figure, having to bite his lip and physically force his eyes from your chest and what was poking through your shirt. He settled on looking at your face, eyelids heavy with sleep and squinting from the light, your messy hair cascaded down your shoulders as you yawned. It was only then he remembered what he was wearing and he began to self-consciously pull up on his boxer shorts. Unfazed and unbothered, you slotted next to him in front of what he was slowly beginning to realize was much too small of a sink.

"Mornin'" you grumbled, voice still laced with sleep

"ahm-" he felt his voice get stuck in his throat and quickly coughed to clear it "Uh- mornin'" he finally drawled out, doing his best to remain collected.

It was difficult for him to retain any semblance collectedness as he turned towards the mirror and saw just how close you were. Your shoulder practically bumping into his lower bicep. He began to realize just how much of a hight difference you shared and he could feel his face heating up. So he fumbled for his toothbrush and began to maneuver it with shaky hands.

"Sleep okay?" You droned, turning lazily to look up towards him

"jus' fine" He breathed, not daring to look down at you, knowing it would be too much for him to handle.

"That's good" You chirped back, a smile evident in your voice.

He dared to look down in your direction and found you attempting to squeeze a bit of product out of a tube. You scrunched you face up in a sleepy effort to get more out of what was clearly an almost empty bottle. After a couple moments of trying you slumped over and, without looking at him, moved the tube towards his hands.

"wot?" he looked at you directly now, genuinely confused

"You do it" you slurred "my hands are still too sleepy" and, as if to prove your point, you held out one hand to him and tried your hardest to clench it into a fist but to no avail.

"wh- but- um...okay" he relented almost immediately

If you had been more conscious you might have chuckled at the sight of Simon 'Ghost' Riley crouched down slightly, his face twisted in concentration as he produced a small amount of product from the tube. Carefully dabbing it onto your palm, cautious to not touch your hand with his. You had heard of him from the animated stories your roommate recounted to you with while on leave. You had expected this mostly silent, mysterious, and deadly soldier to approach you like a roaring storm. Sweeping into your life for a weak and leaving a confusing, mangled mess in its wake. But instead he entered more like a calm spring rain, he approached you like he was afraid if he moved too quickly he would startle you off. He looked at you not like some hardened fighter would survey their surroundings. But like a small child sitting on a playground bench, just waiting for someone else to finally tell them they could join in the fun that they had silently observed for so long. Simon Riley may have been a bit of a mystery to you now, but you were determined to change that.

"looks like I'm almost out..." you sighed, having taken the product back from his shaking hands and washing you face with it. You stood there for a moment, shifting your weight back and forth from one foot to another, "Go shopping with me?" you offered with a bright smile, suddenly much more awake than you had been before.

"s'cuse me?" He answered, befuddled beyond comprehension

But you had already bounded off down the hallway not waiting for an answer. You swung open the door the Johnny's room just as Kyle was reaching for the handle

"easy there sweet'art" he chuckled, pushing past you with a hand on your head "'morning to you too mate" he nudged Simon and chuckled at his perturbed expression. Gaz knew that if he was anyone else, his mate probably would have broken the hand he set you, so he just strode into the kitchen. Once again unfazed, you continued into Johnny's room.

"what 'er you up to?" Simon questioned, one hand propping himself up on the door frame.

"Waking the little prick up so we can go out" you stated matter-a-factly.

"wouldn't bet on it" Gaz called from the kitchen

"hm?" you tilted your head to one side

"-e's right" Simon sighed "Not even the Cap' can get 'im up when he's got a day off"

you just smiled and rolled you eyes "It's not that hard" you chuckled "see?"

they both watched with interest as you picked up a pillow from the bed and took a step back. They then watched as you lifted the pillow in the air,

"Johnny!" you yelled

there was no response besides a small shuffle.

"John Mactavish!?" you winded up further

"mmm...ooOWW!? THE 'ELL YOU THINK YOU'RE DOIN' EH?" Johnny's voice crescendoed as you began to hit him with the pillow. They were quick, hard, and precisely aimed strikes, "AYE STOP THAT YA' WEE SONOFA-" he grabbed the pillow on one of your downward strokes and easily wrenched it from your hand. You turned tail and ran, brushing past Simon's frame in the door and rounding to the couch. Simon barely had a chance to react to your movement before Johnny was shoving past him, pillow in hand.

"get 'yer arse back here!" Johnny growled, all but leaping over the kitchen island to reach you, now having come to standstill as you both stood on opposite sides of the coffee table.

"see?" you grinned, gesturing with one hand to your smirking roommate and with the other to your guests, "Easy to get him up if ya do it right." you narrowed your eyes in a teasing gesture.

"Oh haha! Real feckin funny 'a you" Johnny quipped "gettin' me up on ma' day off, takin' the piss from the lot'a you" you groaned, before holding up his pillow and smirking, "put somethin' on wouldya'? fookin chebs 'r out" He scolded, before throwing the pillow in your direction.

"what you mean my-?" you looked down before your face turned bright red, "you-" you stammered "you disgusting little perv!"

You scowled and picked up the closest thing to you, a lip glass container that had sat on the coffee table, and threw it at him with deadly aim. It hit his temple and you clutched the pillow closer to your chest.

"AYE! that shit 'urts ya know?" He picked up the lip products and pointed it at you accusatorially.

"Good" you smiled as you trudged back to your room, presumably to change, "We leave to go shopping in 20" you call

"We're doing shopping?" Johnny suddenly perked up, eyes wide like a dog before he tried to hide his excitement. "an' who's 'we', I didnae agreed tae go anywhere wit' you" you teased

"Wasn't talking about you" you peaked your head around the corner "Simon and I are going." you stated "Kyle, you're invited. Johnny? I'll let ya tag along if you're nice." you grinned, closing the door to your room.

Kyle and Johnny now both turned back to Simon who standing completely still on the other side of the room, having managed to wrestle his sweatpants on during the chaos. He stood there with his mouth slightly agape, on one hand he was buzzing with excitement over the fact you had specifically wanted to go out shopping with him specifically. On the other hand, seeing you run around in only that tank top was forcing him to bite his cheek to stave off a stiffy that would have been all too obvious. He could picture chasing you around the flat, just the two of you home, lifting you up by your waist and letting you hook your ankles around his waist. He needed to be close enough to feel your warmth, he needed to know what you would feel like around him, around his-

"'s that true L.t?" Johnny broke him from his thoughts, doing his best to sound actually hurt.

"'s nothin' don' worry 'bout it" Simon grumbled

"don' sound like nothing" Kyle teased.

"drop it" Simon warned, taking a seat at the island

"Not until you drop whateva's goin' on doon there man" Johnny gestured widely to his friends lower half, now concealed by the table. "Gettin' a right stauner from that? From 'er? ma' fookin flatmate man? 's a little embarrassing no?" he finished with a half hearted chuckle

"Not another word" Simon dragged both his hands through his short hair as he propped himself up on his elbows, the threatening tone in his voice shut Johnny up quick. Him and Kyle snickering to themselves as they left to go get dressed.

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose, never before had someone been able to throw him off like you were. It was like you took ever part of his hardened exterior away and left him as vulnerable as the day he born and even stranger, he didn't mind it. He didn't mind that your gaze set his body on fire, he didn't mind that every time he though about your hight difference he felt compelled to squeeze you so hard you might break. He was just so enamored with you, that even as he calmed down enough to get fully dressed, his mind kept drifting back to you in this primal, protective way. Where he wished you had let those two sleep in so he could have had you all to himself, even if the thought of having to make conversation with you did sound terrifying.

You gave him no more time to think however, as you bounded out of the hallway in a cute short sundress, you hair pulled up and off your neck. You opened the door and turned back to him and his two friends who had followed you out to the main room.

"ready to go?" you chimed

Simon moved towards to door subconsciously, he would have followed you anywhere.

Omg I finally got a longer part out thank godddd lmao. Finished with midterms so I should be back to regular posting! I'll have their shopping trip posted within a couple days and I'll do a little ghost x reader thing for halloween. mwah!

Tags: @sleep101 @urbimom@noisydelusionlove@plk-18 @pinkyfqiry @wwe1rdc0re @vmaxis@jenlvr01@lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @ifsunmibts @callmeluno@nina-from-317@strawberrygateau@leryg0@weemansoap@dreamtofus@imjustheretofightforlove @electricmentalitypersona @castellomargot @foxintheferns @weallhaveadestiny @identity2212 @trashitytrashtrash @glitteryarcadefart @thepowers-kat-be @xi1dius

[aennasan]

You always caught yourself staring at Johnny's behind. He always teases you about it. Always encourages you to touch it with that thick scottish accent of his. As a reply, you just roll your eyes and tell him to get over himself. He just chuckles and tells you that the offer still stands whenever.

Little did he know that it wasn't his ass you were looking at, partly yes, but you just noticed that Johnny has dimples on his back at the bottom of his spine. And you always catch a glimpse of it whenever he wears low rise jeans.

You're not a perv but you wonder how good it would look while you peg him. You wonder how hot it would feel to put your hands on it while you rail his back.

But of course, you keep it to yourself.

Knowing Johnny, he will take your perverted thoughts as a compliment. You had enough of his cockiness.

But.....maybe someday.

[moongreenlight]

Like 800 words of a Ghoap x Reader fic I've been sitting on for way too long. School is hard. Life is busy. I love you and miss you.

Premise: Ghost is a porn director, Soap is an actor, you're Ghost's girlfriend.

mdni. nsfw below the cut.

Ghost abusing his authority over Soap and getting him to come in early/late to shoots so he can get a few ‘warm-up’ shots in (bending Soap over the chaise in his dressing room) or randomly calling for ‘emergency shoots’ (he wants to take a shitty iPhone video of Soap on his hands and knees gagging on his cock).

It started out as a means to end Johnny’s bitching. He refused to take performance boosters, citing some bullshit argument about how “if athletes cannae use them, neither can I.” A non-argument, Ghost thought. But still, he found himself bullying the man into a tech room and letting him grind on the toe of his boot until he spilled his mess on the floor. It didn’t solve the problem. Like giving a begging dog table scraps. 

Johnny apparently needed his cock milked before any shoot where he was expected to come on camera. Howled like a bitch in heat until Ghost appeased him, and even after that it was touch and go. 

But then there was his dove. Dutifully waiting for him every night. Sweeter, more soft than Soap. Less whining, similar resistance, but took easier to his guiding hand. Never had any issue with his work. Never a flare of jealousy when he spent most of his day staring at writhing naked bodies. 

Simon figured out somewhere in his balancing act that he was able to work out some of his aggression on Johnny. Brat takes it better. He doesn’t get a feeling like stones are being slowly added to the pressure on his ribs when he sees Soap’s big blue eyes get teary. He’s gentler with his dove. Takes his time because he can. 

He’s fantastic at keeping his work and private lives completely separate. Fucking exemplary. You’d think they were entirely different planets the way he seemed to turn completely off to them. 

Ghost finds himself net neutral on the situation. It’s like picking between his left and right hand to fist over his cock. More an issue of convenience. Not like he’s got a standout sex drive, it mostly just happens as appeasement. Get Johnny to quit sodding griping, keep the dove happy in her cage. 

But of course, worlds collide. They always do when they revolve so close to one another. There’s bound to be a rotation in the axis that sends them smashing into one another.

And of course it happens on a day where Johnny is entirely out of control. Whining in scenes, ruining takes, wasting film and time; time he’s paid- fucking handsomely- to be pleasant for. 

Ghost hears her before he sees her. Standing next to one of the cameras with a cigarette clamped between his teeth, glowering down the barrel at Soap who was making a sour face and rubbing oil onto the back of some actress with a thin towel covering her modesty. His ears are tuned to the frequency of her voice, picking it out with ease amongst the dull chatter that had flared since the cameras stopped rolling even from all the way down the hall. 

She was chatting with the receptionist who no doubt chose to walk her where she needed to be to bask in the warmth that was her company. His bird had that effect on people. Always sweet and sunshine. Saved the sharp wit and snark for home or to be whispered in his ear. Trained perfectly by his expert hand. 

He didn’t bother looking away from Johnny when she walked in the door. Now engaged in some sort of silent staring contest. Ghost glaring down the crook of his nose at the smaller man. He couldn’t quite pick out if the look in Johnny’s eyes was disdain or desire. They were synonymous at this point. Shame he couldn’t sort out that attitude of his properly now. Save everyone the fucking tantrum.

He calls for a cut. Gruffs out a tight 5 and reset. Tosses his cigarette to the ground and crushes it under the heel of his boot. He doesn’t have the time to turn around before he hears two planets collide. 

“- you lookin’ for a role, bonnie? Ye know, I’ve got connections ‘round here. Make ye a star in fifteen minutes.”

Her laugh is honest and amused. It cuts straight through the sound of the studio and rings like church bells. 

“Oh, I dunno. I’m a terrible read.”

He looks over his shoulder and sees Johnny tying the belt of his robe in a lazy knot over his hip. More decorative than anything seeing as the plush thing is cast open all the way down his torso. Exposing, with painfully obvious intention, the gloss of oil on skin and the whorls of dark hair that decorate his chest. 

“Dinnae believe that for a minute. ‘Sides, pretty girl like you hardly needs to talk. Bet we could work out a scene where you only have to open your mouth for-”

He’s cut off when the receptionist knocks her shoulder into his and throws him a warning look on her way out. It doesn’t strike the chord it should, but it fulfills the end goal all the same.

[silaslich]

Change in the currents and tide

John “Soap” Mactavish x f!reader

Summary - John takes you home for the holidays and it only solidifies your nagging feeling that you no longer love Johnny just as a friend.

Wc - 4k

Cw - 18+, smut, fluff, friends to lovers, basically a part 1 to this <<

AN - Christmas and it’s not even December yet? Yes. The answer is yes.

The train rocked steadily, rain pattering against the window as you kept your eyes fixed on the rapid passing by of the auburn countryside outside. It was late December, almost Christmas, the usual dusting of winter snow nowhere to be seen, replaced instead with slushy mud and torrential rain.

You’d slept for most of the journey, only stirring awake when Johnny shook you gently, pushing a hot chocolate and iced bun across the little table in front of you, letting you know you still had about an hour and a half left till you reached Edinburgh.

This was the second year you were going home with Soap, much to his families pleasure, and much to your own gratitude.

The holidays didn’t really feel like the holidays when you were home alone, sitting in your own little bubble of silence, trying to fill the void with Christmas movies and way too many biscuits.

Last year had been an amazing one, Johnny had so many family members; sisters, brothers, aunties, uncles, nieces, nephews, cousins, grandparents. He had it all. His mother and father’s home had barely been able to fit them all in, with the fire lit and the dogs jumping up at visitors, cheesy Christmas music was blasting from the telly and the mulled wine was already flowing.

It had you reeling, watching this big military man squat low with a gleaming smile, cooing at the kids and telling them how big they’d gotten since he’d last seen them. Then they’d run to you, wrapping their little fingers around yours and pulling you away, wanting to show you the rest of the house or show you the drawings they’d made at school.

It made you miss your family, made you miss the faded - distant memories of Christmas when you were little.

His grandparents were sinewy little things, worn with age and hunched at the spine, his grandfather wore glasses that sat at the end of his nose and his grandma had a burgundy embroidered shawl that was hung over her shoulders. You didn’t ask how old they were, thought Johnny wouldn’t tell you the truth anyway, finding it funny that his own grandparents were still standing, “old bats have got plenty of life left in em’ yet lass” he would no doubt say. You knew they’d ask you the same questions they asked last year, “when are you and our John plannin’ on tying the knot, pet?” And “you need to keep the family goin’, lots of little ones running around aye?” They made you chuckle, watching Soap’s face glow a shade of cherry red, scolding his grandparents for thinking such things.

The two of you were just friends, had been for years and would be for many more. It wasn’t that the thought hadn’t crossed your mind, you found yourself staring at him most days, noting the gentleness in his eyes and the sharp slopes of his face, he was a handsome man and a gentleman at that - it’s so lonely when you’re deployed, maybe that’s why your eyes linger and your thoughts wander.

That’s what you tell yourself, it’s just the lifestyle you lead, the loneliness and the desperation to have something to come back to when the time for leave arises.

Sadly, you’d thought too many times about the logistics, about what he’d say or what he’d think, the crushing weight of rejection and awkwardness after the fact keeps your mouth glued shut.

Soap had seen you through thick and thin, having your back when no one else does. You couldn’t jeopardise that for the sake of finding him attractive, he grated on your nerves enough as it was, as funny as the imagery was - you couldn’t stomach the thought of having a Johnny jr. running around at your feet.

-

Your hot chocolate sent a warm tingle to your tummy, making you feel all cosy and mushy as you watched the rain continue to pour outside. Soap was quieter then usual, clearly tired and ready to be home bound. He looked forward to Christmas and seeing everyone, he was even more excited to have you there, dreading you’d decline his offer and hold yourself up at home - all alone.

Much like someone else did; that great big hulking bastard of a man did the same thing year in, year out. Each holiday Ghost would tuck himself away in his safe house in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere, going completely off the radar until it was time to come back to work and get back on the grind again. Each time Soap would try his best to convince his friend to come over, or even offered if he wanted Johnny to keep him company at his place, each time he was shot down with the same thing; “I don’t want to take you away from your family” or “I’ll probably just sleep through the whole thing anyway”. You all knew it was bullshit, but he was a grown man, if he wanted to, he’d come.

The train was passing through Berwick-upon-Tweed, the coast looked rough and unsteady, the waves licking at the cliff edges and crashing in an upward turret of hazy brown and midnight blue. “What are you looking forward to the most about going home?” You asked Soap as you turned toward him, curling your knees towards yourself in your seat and cradling yourself into his side, paper cup of hot chocolate still clutched between your fingers. He shuffled his weight to get comfortable, forcing you to slide closer into him as he propped his arm over your shoulders. He pursed his lip in thought, gaze falling to the view outside, “probably my mam’s cooking” he said, meeting your eye as he looked down, “and maybe seeing the wee ones, if they’re behaving” he added, smiling at the thought of his nieces and nephews. Soap was the youngest of his siblings, the last one of three brothers and two sisters, forever the baby of the family is his mothers eyes.

You nodded, as if in agreement, as if you knew how it felt to miss home cooking and family, none of it was real for you, hadn’t been for years now, but you could try.

He took a swig of his own drink, it smelt like coffee, strong and bitter. “How about you?” He asked gently, squeezing your shoulder with his hand that was draped there. You hadn’t really expected him to ask you, but it didn’t take you long to answer, “I like your mam’s cooking too” you smiled, closing your eyes at just the thought of her cauliflower cheese bake and roast potatoes. “And, I’m excited to see Michael” you smiled wider, looking pointedly at Johnny and loving the way his face scrunched up in grimacing disgust.

Michael was Johnny’s older brother by two years, and probably his least favourite sibling, made even more so after last years debacle. Michael hadn’t left you alone for the entire week you were staying with Johnny, hounding you with weird questions and gluing himself to your side at any given opportunity. He wasn’t an unattractive man looks wise, but his personality let him down, you just loved seeing the way Johnny came to your defence, even after announcing to every single family member that you two were just friends. After the two of you had been deployed again it was the best and quickest way to get on his nerves, the mere mention of Michael’s name had Soap’s hackles up.

“I’ll punch his teeth down his throat if he starts with that shit again” Johnny grumbled, a frown stitching his brow as you laughed at his expense.

The next hour and a bit passed by quickly, leaving the two of you to dart to the nearest taxi rank with luggage in toe once you reached Edinburgh Waverley, trying to avoid the heavy battering of rain as it beat down against the pavement. You sighed as the taxi door slid close, feet wet through your shoes from attempting to dodge the puddles and back wet through from where the rain had slipped down the back of your shirt collar. Soap ruffled his hand through his hair, droplets of water raining down onto the floor of the car, some of them hitting you as you smacked him in the arm, ‘I’m already wet through you prick’ you’d scolded, but he simply laughed, jabbing an icy cold finger into your ribcage.

By the time you and Soap were rounding the steps up to his family home, the door was already flung open, pale amber light illuminated the two of you as it bled into the street from the doorway of the house. You looked up through the wet on your lashes, smiling wildly as you saw the trio of trouble makers, all of them belonging to Johnny’s oldest sister, Edith. She had two girls and a boy; Emma who was 7, Carla who was 5 and Charlie who was 4. They were squealing, little flailing arms waving like proud flags in the wind, Emma was trying her best to slip her shoes on to greet the two of you on the steps. “Woah there wee lady” Soap cooed, taking two steps at a time now to catch the little tyke before she journeyed to meet you in the rain, “you’ll catch yer death out here, get inside” he told her sternly, raising a brow at the young girl as she grinned at him sheepishly. Before long you were joining them, ushering them all inside and dumping your bags in the doorway before you slipped your shoes off.

It was almost as loud as it was Christmas Day itself; it was just yourself, Soap and his sister’s family here so far. His mother was in the kitchen, stirring some kind of stew in a pot as she gave you a kind smile, insisting for you to make yourself at home. Johnny’s father was sat in his armchair in the living room, nursing a tumbler of scotch, the amber liquid sloshing lazily at the sides as the older man jerked it in your direction, welcoming you to his home with a lopsided smile, kind eyes pinching at the sides as his grin widened. Soap’s sister was on you before you even saw her, caging you in as she hugged you tightly, “blimey lass, you’re looking well, something glowing about ye” she was a beautiful women with gleaming teeth and freckled cheeks. Johnny’s family had some damn good genes, you thought.

The night was filled with great food, great laughs and great scotch. After spending half of the night entertaining the kids with Soap by playing hide and seek and then helping them with their spelling as they played hangman, the other half of the night you’d spent with the grown ups. Sitting by the telly as old re-runs of Christmas movies played like white noise in the background while you and Johnny filled his family in on what life was like on the front line.

They didn’t pry into the grim stuff, more trying to make idle conversations to take interest in Johnny’s work life, he was good at getting off the subject, preferring to talk about what was going on round here these days. His sister told you guys all about Emma’s school life, how far ahead she was with her reading age and how clever she was, always doing her homework on time and most of the time all by herself. You cast your eye over to Soap, seeing him grin like a Cheshire Cat as his sister spoke about her kids made you all fuzzy inside, Johnny really loved those kids.

With a belly full of beef stew and good Scottish whiskey you fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow, but your head began to drift away, pulling you into pleasant dreams filled with your best friend. The same friend sleeping not even an arms length away from you in your shared double bed (he’d insisted to save room for when the rest of the family arrived), if you reached out you’d feel his skin under your palms, the hot flesh and skin and bone of him.

Something had shifted today, watching him play with his nieces and nephews, observing Johnny in his domestic state had dislodged something warm and fuzzy in your chest, something you had tried to swallow down for years now.

You valued your friendship with him, more than anything, but the undeniable and growing attraction was there, and it was only growing the more time you found yourself spending with him. It was suffocating you, everything good about him, even all the bad, you wanted it all.

Something foreign overtook you. Fuelled by the heat of his body so close and the warmth of the whiskey thrumming away in your bloodstream, you rolled onto your back, guiding your hand over your stomach before slipping it under your waistband. You sank your teeth into your bottom lip, stifling any noise that attempted to bubble its way from your chest. Your fingers skimmed between your folds, meeting the slick wetness already gathering there, you threw your head back against the pillow and fought the urge to let the sounds spill.

Your mind swam, imagining it was Johnny’s hand, his fingers teasing you open, ready to curl into you and press into that velvety plush spot deep inside of you. It took everything not to whine, cry his name as you increased the pressure on your clit and moved your wrist in rapid motions.

“Don’t stay quiet on my account, lass”

His voice washes over you like a vat of ice cold water, sloshing and drowning you in dread as your body stills, all movement ceasing as you stare up at the ceiling. The duvet rustles and the mattress dips, your breathing hurries, eyes frantic as you search the darkness for any answer to explain yourself away. Johnny presses two fingers under your jaw, angling your face toward him as he speaks again, “ya haven’t gone shy on me now, have ya love?” His voice dips, lowers to a husked whisper as he nears closer, his breath so close it twines with yours.

You want to evaporate. Embarrassment tries to swallow you whole, but the arousal overflows, only egged on by the tone and implication of his words.

“Johnny I-I” you whine, mouth gaping and closing as you try to find the words, “I’m sorry it’s just-“ you try again but the words are lost, they die on your tongue when he shifts even closer, and the movement only further reminds you that your fingers are still dipped beneath your waistband.

Johnny hauls himself up, shoulders cracking as he pulls himself closer, his chest pressing into yours as he cages you to the bed under himself, elbows pressing into the mattress either side of you as his fingers flatten over your hair. It’s dark, the only light provided is the dim haze from the street lamp outside the window, and even that is barely enough to allow you to see him clearly. But you can feel his gaze, the way his eyes burn, yet you can’t quite gather the emotion they hold.

“Do you know why I woke you up on the train?” His voice is low, it brushes across your nose and you can smell the whiskey on his breath, you wish he’d let you taste it. You frown, brows knit as you replay the day in your mind, showing up empty. He must notice, one hand holding the side of your head while the other hand smoothes over your hair again, his fingers mindlessly twirling a stray piece he finds.

You don’t answer. Your heart is hammering so hard and fast that you can’t register it, your blood is rushing past your ears and it feels as if your going to have a heart attack, the ache in your ribcage makes you wince.

Johnny’s fingers trace further down, leaving your hair, the pad of his index finger skates down your cheek, mapping the freckles and moles he knows lay there. He continues across your skin and you feel as if you’re on fire, his fingers make it to your lips, tracing the shape of them and pressing over your cupids bow.

“You were moaning my name in yer sleep, bonnie” he’s closer, words fanning your lips along with his breath, he sounds so wrong like this. Soap is brash and loud and annoying, now, Johnny is tame and quiet - gentle with this topic like it’s a precious glass trinket in his hands, so easily broken.

You gasp, cheeks flooding a deep cherry red, you’re mortified and again words escape you. He’d still let you come here, bought you into his childhood home despite what he had heard, none of it adds up until you feel his lips pressing under your jaw. He nudges you until you tilt your chin, allowing his mouth to mould to your throat as he peppers kisses to the flesh there. Your hand is still between your legs, abandoned but now receiving pressure as Johnny pushes his weight down onto you - entirely on purpose.

“Ah- Johnny” your free hand snatches up, lays into his throat, holding him against you as he smirks into your skin. “Had to wake you up before I got us thrown off the train for public indecency, lass” his voice is muffled against you, his tongue tasting your flesh as you pant beneath him. “Had to keep my jacket in my lap for the rest of the journey” his teeth press into you now, sucking a welt deep into your skin and there’s no escaping the moan that creeps from your throat. You try to catch it but Johnny is quicker, pressing a palm over your mouth before you manage to clamp your mouth shut. “Quiet now, bonnie, don’t wake the house up” he smirks again, tongue soothing over the indents of his teeth.

He shuffles up, brings himself closer to your face again, then he stops- pauses in his tracks. You’re desperate to see him, to turn on the lights and stare into those beautiful blue eyes of his. Johnny balances his weight on one elbow, his fingers tracing your cheek before he leans in, pressing his lips to yours in the most tender kiss you think you’ve ever been captured in.

It’s so sweet. Too sweet. It makes your teeth ache and you can’t help but smile into his mouth, only to find he mirrors you. Bites it off in a huffed laugh that proves to be contagious, you’re panting into each others mouth, the smell of whiskey and mint fanning the space. Your hand is still at his neck and you move it up, thumb brushing over his ear as you rake your fingers over the shaved portion of his head and through the longer tresses of his mohawk that is beginning to grow out. “What’s so funny?” You ask, breathy, drunk on Johnny. He smirks into your cheek, takes the flesh between his teeth in a tease that makes you whine, “I’ve thought about this for so fuckin’ long” he admits, openly, pleased with himself when he kisses your cheek softly.

You want to tell him that you’ve felt it too, you want to spill it all, from your tongue right onto his. Yet, it dies away in a smile, disbelief washing through you, the tug of the whiskey and the slow thrumming of sleep in your blood making your eyes droop. You lean up, pressing your lips to his again, feeling as he deepens the kiss, pressing his tongue against your lips until you allow him in, pressing your hips up into his making him hiss. “Fuck, bonnie” he scolds, grip on the sheets tightening, “I don’t fancy getting an earful from me ma’ about this” he laughs, “I’ll fuck you silly when they’re all out tomorrow” he solidifies the promise with a kiss, teeth and tongue as he groans into your mouth, “then you can be as loud as ya fuckin’ like” his mouth skates from your mouth to your throat again, wet trail of his lips making your skin prickle.

“For now” he starts, smoothing his hand over your mouth again, making your eyes squeeze shut, “you’re going to let me help you cum” he rasps. It’s as if your world explodes, tiny fragments scattered as you try and catch them, but it’s useless. It’s torturously slow when Johnny shifts his weight, freeing up his hand and balancing his weight on his knees and thighs to keep himself up, then he traces his fingers down between your breasts and over your tummy, reaching your navel and continuing down until he reaches your waistband.

He doesn’t move your hand, simply guides his over yours, the difference in size laughable when his palm engulfs your hand entirely. You’re too focused on his motions, startled when he presses his lips into your throat again, smirking when your whines and mewls die beneath his palm. His mouth gapes when the length of his fingers over yours forces them to be met with the wetness between your legs, coating his fingertips. “Jesus, lass” he groans, hushed into your neck like a secret. He wraps his fingers between yours, slotted between one another, locked together as he begins to move both of your hands in tandem.

Out of instinct, you part your legs further, Johnny growls, “minx” then a flash of teeth nip at your ear as he continues to rock both of your hands against your clit. Your palm rubs friction against the bundle of nerves, the pressure of Johnny’s hand only adding to the sensation, you’re overwhelmed - embarrassingly aware that you won’t last long. You whine, pressing your head back against the pillows, “you’re doin’ so well, bonnie” he whispers, “ya look so pretty like this” he kisses your temple, hips rutting into the mattress as he adds more pressure to your fingers. You’re panting against his palm, steadily ascending to your release, so close you can taste it. His name is muffled into his own skin, a warning as he dips his fingers between your folds, never letting up the motions of his wrist as he guides your hand to rub faster against you slit.

Your orgasm surprises both of you, more so him when your teeth sink his palm, almost making him hump your thigh from how turned on it serves him to get. Your moan is suppressed back down your throat, swallowed down when Johnny kisses from your neck to your jaw, removing his hand to seal his mouth over yours when he’s sure the last wave of orgasm has passed, not keen on having you moan so loud the roof shakes. He kisses you daft, makes you preen into his mouth with as many hushed sentiments you manage to gift before he’s swallowing them down.

Johnny allows you a second to catch your breath, leaning back to catch a glimpse of your come down, the way you pant and your chest heaves, pretty doe eyes wet and blown wide. He moves to take your hand in his, pulls it from your waistband and up to his mouth, it looks to be a cute gesture - until he’s sucking your fingers into his mouth and your juices along with them. “Johnny!” You squeak, face flushed with a wide smile when he brings himself close again, connecting his mouth to yours so you can taste yourself.

You settle for kissing him until the sun peaks over the buildings of the street, buttery winter sunshine seeping through the cracks in the blinds as the two of you fumble with grabbing hands and wet trails of lips and tongue. Johnny listens out for the movement of the house awakening, footsteps shuffling around the floorboards, the rushed scrubbing of teeth and jangle of keys, there’s a resounding handful of different voices shouting out their goodbyes and he returns the politeness with a groggy “see ya in a bit”. But as soon as the door slams, his eyes darken, hovering above you like a shadowed phantom, the promise of ruin present in his smirk.

“Merry Christmas, lass”

[konigsblog]

P!LINK COD MWII MASTERLIST (🌽)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. STRICTLY 18+. ALL MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED.

BEWARE: DARKER THEMES BELOW.

PHOTO CREDIT: GLUTT_R ON 🐦/X

KÖNIG

somnophilia with pervert!könig

taking kidnapper!könig for the first time

size difference with petite!reader and könig

“just the tip, könig.” with loser!könig

loser!könig who loses control (breeding kink)

being groped by kidnapper!könig (hole inspection)

forced breeding with pervert!könig

hope inspection with older boyfriend!könig

virginity loss with könig (virgin!reader)

letting virgin!könig use your body (virginity loss)

raped and recorded by könig

entertainment for kidnapper!könig (non-con)

raped in public by rapist!könig

incel!könig making porn for his online girlfriend

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY

punishments with brat!reader and simon riley (brat taming)

relaxing simon riley with your pussy

‘obedience’ with simon riley

stepbrother!simon riley and his best friends

humping your stepfather's bulge

car sex with stepbro!simon riley

rough dom!simon riley and his fuck doll

being manhandled by your stepbrother

raped by kidnapper!simon

being filled by simon riley (breeding kink)

hole inspection with simon riley

cock worship with older boyfriend!simon

rough dom!simon x brat!reader (brat taming)

punishments with stepfather!simon

having your attitude fixed by your lieutenant

semi-clothed sex with pervert!simon

raped for intel by lieutenant!simon

JOHN ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH

pervert!soap x milf!reader (morning sex)

“just the tip, i promise.” with stepbro!soap

your needy stepbro attempting to distract you

rough dom!stepbro!soap punishing you

playful!stepbro!soap and his virgin stepsister virginity loss

stepbro!soap eating you out

cuddling fucking with stepbro!soap

drunken sex with loser!soap

“fuck, don’t stop, bonnie...” handjobs with soap

being fingered by stepbro!soap

mutual masturbation with soap

stepson!soap with stepmom!reader

KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK

shower sex with pervert!gaz

the type of videos gym bro!gaz sends you

riding gaz in your new lingerie

the result of getting high with stepbro!gaz

having your insides rearranged by gaz

riding gaz for the first time

“don’t pull out!” with pervert!gaz

sucking off gaz for the first time (inexperienced!reader)

letting virgin!gaz play with your cunt while you're high

treating soft!gaz to a handjob after his deployment

virgin!reader fucking themselves back on gaz

CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE

being eaten out by john price (1)

being eaten out by john price (2)

morning sex with older boyfriend!price

spit play with older boyfriend!price

morning sex with sugar daddy!price

being eaten out by sugar daddy!price

manhandled by price

making out with price

stepdad!price and his slutty, daft stepdaughter

[skauni]

Can’t stop thinking about Soap calling himself ‘Uncle Johnny’ around your kids but they consider him a dad because that’s how he acts:

When your friend John MacTavish found out that your boyfriend dumped you after you got pregnant, he was right by your side for all of it. Saying “Dunnae worry, Bonny. Uncle Johnny’s gonna help with the wee bairns.”

And he did. He was there the whole pregnancy, even went as far as moving in so you could rest and he could keep an eye on you.

When you went into labor, he was there. He was there for everything. From the birth of your twins, Aster and Cody, to the sleepless nights after, he was there. You even heard him in the middle of the night telling them “Dunnae worry wee ones, Uncle Johnny’s here. Nothin’ t’fear.” And you loved how dedicated he was to helping you.

When the boys got old enough to talk, you were unfortunate enough to witness the fact that they spoke their first words in Scottish accents. Just like John. It wasn’t bad, it just meant you had a hard time understanding them is all.

When you couldn’t watch them, he would. Saying “Let Uncle Johnny watch the wee lads.”

But, as soon as the boys called him ‘Dad’ for the first time, he looked at you eagerly and said “I suppose Uncle Johnny is becoming the Papa of these wee lads, aye Bonny?” He said to you. You blushed at the comment and looked away in flustered embarrassment.

[quillcraftconquer]

Task Force 141 when you jump out from your hiding spot to scare them -

John Price, who doesn’t even flinch, but crosses his arms over his chest and stares at you inquisitively.

“What’re you doing?” He asks, the fun deflating from you immediately.

“Nothing.” You mumble.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, whose body takes a screenshot, whatever he was holding flying briefly up in the air before catching it again. He joins in your laughter, after catching his breath.

John “Soap” MacTavish, who lets out the most high pitched, blood curdling scream and clutches his chest. The reaction scared you, making you scream as well. When you both stop screaming, you just stare at each other.

“Stupid.” He mumbles, pushing your head to the side as he walks by you.

Simon “Ghost” Riley, whose hand whips out at the speed of light, gathering your shirt in his fist and yanking you up on your toes. You barely have time to let out a choked “Wait!”, covering your face when his fist instinctively rears back. He stops when he notices it’s you and sets you back on the ground.

“Don’t do that shit again.” He grumbles. You do.

[mawvax]

a soapghost comic i never finished (i wanted angry bloodied soap)

update: i am continuing it 1/1/2024 16/1/2024: i'm remembering why this took so bloody long (pun intended)

update: here's the whole thing - its basically 2009!Soap haunting Soap!

[chamomiletealeaf]

Thought of this at work today lmao

[mrsparrasblog]

COD porn links

MDNI

I tried to add some more inclusive vids like male X male plus sized and fetishes

Kyle

He is mad at you for flirting with another guy

Dryhumping childhood best friend Kyle

Kyle fucks you while you're handcuffed

Sucking his dick after deployment

After he tells you I love you for the first time (mxm)

Kyle being a good boy

Kyle and his wife

Price

John teaches his rookies some respect (mxm)

You talked back Infront of the team ( god he looks so much like price - respectable drooling not from the mouth)

Husband Price

He apologised for being so long on Deployment

John price with his new insecure sergeant

Sucking older bf price

Price is hungry for your cunt

Simon

Simon uses your cum as lube (male X male)

You're not allowed to cum (mxm)

Pre military Simon fucking his first girlfriend

Just the tip love

Simon always loved them bigger

Soap

The minute he comes back from deployment (male X male)

Johnny in lingerie

The video Johnny shows when someone asks how you look

(never shows your face but your cunt is okay -idiot)

Johnny has a foot fetish

Johnny loves you

Please let me play with your tits

Johnny is a needy bastard

Extra

The video you got after sending them a nude

But why does it give Johnny and Simon "we're just friends" vibes

Threesome with Simon and Johnny

Johnny getting himself off in the barracks

Sunshine and price from my fanfic

Valeria and Alejandro sharing you

[gloomwitchwrites]

You introduce your husband as your "boyfriend" to annoy them.

Anon! This prompt has me screaming! I really enjoyed writing for this one because it's such a fun idea. Sure, our 141 boys might be a little mad that they aren't being called by their proper title, but you know they'll just love punishing you for it.

I went a little different with this one. Instead of introductions, I made it so that reader is constantly referring to them as "boyfriend" in public settings. Depending on the situation, introductions wouldn't make sense if it was with friends, family, or coworkers because they would likely already know that they're "husband" and not "boyfriend." So i changed it up a bit in that way!

Some of these fall into spicy territory without being descriptive.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, suggestive themes, non-descriptive mentions of sex, fade to black, brief dirty talk

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon shakes his head and you roll your eyes.

“We can ask someone for help,” you suggest, scanning the massive wall of televisions.

Simon grunts and crosses his arms. “No.”

Sometimes Simon’s stubbornness is cute—even sexy—but right now you’re just annoyed with him. It makes you want to stir up trouble, to cause a little chaos just for the fun of it. Pouting, you turn, eyes narrowing to find an associate of the electronics store. When you spot one near the HDMI cables, you take off, not caring if Simon follows.

“Excuse me.”

The man’s head perks up. “How can I help you?”

You gesture behind you, your hand smacking into Simon’s chest. “My boyfriend—”

“Boyfriend?” growls Simon, but you ignore him.

“—can’t decide on a television.”

Simon is not your boyfriend. He’s your husband. But he’s being stubborn, not making a decision, and you want out of this store.

Shifting, you place one hand on Simon’s large bicep, grinning like you haven’t done anything at all. Simon’s hand immediately grabs your ass, squeezing hard. A warning. One that you ignore.

“I can help with that,” replies the associate. You glance at the man’s nametag. Jim.

“Thank you so much, Jim.” You lean against Simon, giving Jim your best smile. “Getting this guy to commit to anything is so hard sometimes, ya know?”

Jim makes a noncommittal noise as he walks toward the wall of televisions. You start to follow but Simon’s hold on your ass tightens, keeping you pressed against him. Simon leans down, his lips brushing against your ear.

“What are you doing?” he whispers.

You elbow Simon in the side but it’s not hard. He lets go, keeping close to you as the two of you follow Jim over to the televisions. Standing back, you watch with glee as Simon is forced to talk to Jim. You stay out of it, but notice Simon’s gaze switching to you every so often.

You already know what he’s thinking. He’ll likely want to punish you, and sometimes those punishments are so sweet.

Once Simon selects something and the two of you are at the car, there is no safety net. Simon shuts the trunk and then you’re pressed against the car, your body trapped between it and Simon’s massive form.

“Boyfriend?” he accuses.

You shrug. “What do you mean?”

The growl in Simon’s throat comes out a groan. “Get in the car.” He lightly slaps your ass as you open the passenger door.

As you start to slide in, Simon’s hand returns, this time slipping under your skirt to find your thin, lace underwear. He tugs sharply, ripping the fabric.

“Simon!”

He stuffs the underwear into his pocket. “You don’t need these.” You feel your face growing hot.

Simon shuts your car door and walks around the driver’s side, hopping in. He reaches out, placing one large hand on your bare thigh. It roams upward, squeezing, sending a shiver of lust up your body to make your head spin. “When we get home, I’m fucking that boyfriend nonsense right out of you.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“I’m so sorry, but this isn’t what my boyfriend ordered.”

Kyle frowns and glances up from his phone’s screen. That’s your voice he hears, but the term of address isn’t right.

Boyfriend. Not husband, as it fucking should be.

Kyle glances in your direction but you’re not looking at him. You’re smiling sweetly at the barista behind the counter.

“It should be hot. Not iced. I might have messed up. I’m so sorry. I can pay for another.” You raise your hands in a placating gesture but the barista doesn’t appear fazed at all.

“No biggie. Keep that one. Won’t take me more than a minute or two.”

“Thank you so much.” You glance at Kyle, and your smirk tells him all he needs to know.

You’re being a tease. You’re doing this on purpose. The drink order is wrong, and you’re using this as an excuse to poke at him.

Kyle locks his phone and casually slides it into his pocket. Do you think you’re going to annoy him by doing this? Maybe. The little smirk on your face tells him that’s entirely what you have in mind.

But the joke is on you. Doesn’t matter if you refer to him as “boyfriend,” because all it’ll earn you is a punishment.

As the barista slides the new drink across the counter to you, you thank them profusely. “Thank you so much. My boyfriend will really appreciate it.”

The barista only nods and turns back to the espresso machine.

As you approach with the coffee, Kyle gentle removes the drink from your grasp.

“Boyfriend?” he asks, amused.

You shake your head like you have no idea what he’s on about. “What?”

Kyle laughs and snags the other drink from your hand. With shock on your face, he strides up to the counter. “Can you set these aside for us? Be right back.”

They only nod and continue working. Kyle snags your wrist and drags you to the little hallway that curves out around. There are a few private corners in there, and the hallway itself opens up into the nearby bookstore.

Kyle checks the handle on the unisex bathroom. Finding it unlocked, he draws you inside.

“Kyle,” you hiss, but he’s not having any of it.

Kyle engages the lock and presses you up against the door.

“You owe me an apology,” he says.

“For what?” Kyle tuts, his hand sliding to the back of your neck. “Get on your knees,” he murmurs, undoing his belt buckle with the other hand. “Apologize with that gorgeous mouth of yours.”

John Price

John leans back in his chair, agitation irritating his spine.

House hunting isn’t something he’s particularly excited about. He is happy that it’s with you, his wife, but the tediousness of it all is exhausting to him. John would rather have you select a few places to tour and then be done with it all. Money isn’t the issue. He just wants you to find a place you like and the two of you can go from there.

He’d live in a tent if that’s what you want.

“My boyfriend isn’t all that picky.”

Boyfriend? John is tugged from his inner musings by your voice and that term of address. Boyfriend. Why the fuck would you call him that? John isn’t your boyfriend. He’s your goddamn husband.

You reach out, planting a hand on his thigh. You squeeze softly as you always do when you’re trying to reassure him, but John frowns down at it, and then looks up at you. You’re not looking at him. You’re staring at the realtor, completely ignoring him.

John licks his lips, considering whether to correct you or not, or leaving it up to a simple mistake, but you do it again.

This time, John didn’t mishear you.

Your hand squeezes his thigh again and Price rests his hand over yours. His fingers enclose your palm and he holds firm. You glance at him and John shoots you his best warning look. You don’t even react. Don’t event blink.

No. He’s going to correct you. He is absolutely fucking correcting you.

The realtor pivots the computer monitor. “I think any boyfriend would agree that these are excellent selections.”

That’s fucking it.

Price shoots up from his seat, keeping a tight grip on your hand. “I need to speak with my—” John pauses, swallowing down his annoyance. “Girlfriend. Privately.”

The realtor shrugs, smiling, but John is already turning around, dragging you out the door. Outside, the stuffy, summer air does nothing to soothe his annoyance.

“Boyfriend? Fucking boyfriend?” John crosses his arms over his chest, looming over you.

You shrug. “What’s the problem?”

“Behave yourself,” he says, lowering his voice.

“Or what?” you ask in mock innocence.

So, this is what you want. John understands the moment the words leave your mouth. You’re fucking teasing him. Fine. He’ll make you learn.

“We are gonna go back in, thank the kind woman for her time, and then we’re leaving.”

“No. I want to stay.”

John leans in but he notices the way you glance away from him and back, clearly flustered. “Good girls don’t play games.”

“Funny,” you reply, head tilting slightly. “That as my boyfriend you have any authority over me.”

John pivots, blocking the view of the front door from you. “I will bend you over that bench so fast, wife.”

“You won’t,” you stammer.

John arches an eyebrow and you visibly swallow. “Want to test me?”

You pout, and then playfully shove him in the chest. “You’re terrible.”

As you turn for the door, John grabs your waist pulling you close. “You started it.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“My boyfriend and I are redesigning our bathroom.”

Johnny’s attention splits. The associate showing him floor tiles is a distant thing. He might be talking about the newest ones on the market, but Johnny is no longer interested.

Did he just hear you right? Did you just call him boyfriend?

“That’s wonderful,” comes a reply, and Johnny notes an older woman talking to you near the laminate flooring that mimics wood. “Where is he?”

“Over there,” you wave at him, a smug smile on your face.

Boyfriend? Johnny is your fucking husband.

“Sir?” prompts the hardware store associate. “What do you think of these?”

Johnny grunts. “Fine. We’ll come back.” He waves the man off and starts for you even as you continuously refer to him as your boyfriend.

You’re doing it on purpose. You’re doing it to annoy him.

And it’s fucking working.

Johnny saddles up beside you, snaking his arm around your waist, pulling you taut against him.

“This is the boyfriend,” you begin, smiling.

“Husband,” corrects Johnny, flashing the same devious grin. He holds up his left hand, showing off the simple gold band. “Happily married to this one.”

The older woman’s eyes round.

“She likes to joke,” continues Johnny. “Come on, love. Better get home.”

Johnny easily guides you away. He leans down, whispering. “You little terror.”

“Bite me,” you reply.

“Oh. I will. Everywhere. When we get home.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @miaraei

@coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @enarien

@miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @sapphichotmess @enfppuff

@berarenado @saoirse06 @haven-1307 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu

@thewulf @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos

@sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d

@heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez

@gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie

@tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior @dakotakazansky

@talooolaaloolla @hantheconqueror @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @umno-yeah

[tobascoart]

“Don’t gi’me that look”

It started with this tweet XD:

https://x.com/soapuppies/status/1795182967498723802?s=46&t=ulZ-Zqeg5QL1-mmPvsK4bg

[waves-against-a-cliff]

Soap putting you in a headlock when fucking you into the mattress, his chest against your back as his hips snap against the fat of your ass. You're clawing against his forearm which only makes him chuckle and comment about how feisty you are while he hits so deep inside you that you damn near scream.

Biting down hard enough to leave indents on his bicep and not letting go until he uses his other hand to wrench your head away by your hair with a snarl. Snapping your jaw at him while he stares down with feral blue eyes, "Ye wannae play rough?"

[v1x3n]

[yawnderu]

Can't stop thinking about Simon crying while making love.

It's all too tender, too soft and loving, the sheer adoration in your teary eyes forcing him to swallow down the knot building up within his throat as his thrusts grow deeper, his calloused hands displaying an uncharacteristic amount of gentleness as they roam all over your body.

His warm face finds shelter on the crook of your neck, hot, deep exhales hitting your sensitive skin as tears slip out of his closed eyes for the first time in over a decade, his pale nose growing rosy against you as he sniffs, not wanting to dirty you with his runny nose— not wanting you to see him as pathetic, not wanting to explain that it's the first time his body belongs to him, the first time he's willingly sleeping with someone.

Your soft hands are a sheer contrast to the roughness he's used to, caressing the bumps from his scars with nothing but pure reverence, coming up to the back of his head, pressing his face closer to your neck, thankful for the choked sob that leaves your lips at the trust he's displaying, as it muffles his own.

[antomatkoen]

soap definitely didn’t wear the skull earrings for a certain someone…👀

soap shows up at a bar all dazzled up after losing a bet :3