#bonus cod

[bonus-kod]

Какво трябва да направя за да НЕ изпускам офертите на БОНУС КОД ?

Не е трудно да се сетим, че всеки бонус код си има своя период и е възможно да изпуснем срока за да се възползваме от офертите на операторите. За това не пропускайте да се абонирате за прайвит групите в телеграма на Бонус-код.онлайн

[presepohne]

Johnathan Price fucking you while he makes you recite your wedding vows all over again because you were being a brat and telling him how you hate him.

@cupidsworstcrime 's version

[deunmiu-dessie-sideblog]

hehehehhe, was thinking about construction worker simon who goes to work every day just to show off the lunches you make him for work. and it soon becomes a huge thing and all his coworkers and even managers look forward to seeing what you've cooked cause it never seems to be the same. it's literally the only reason simon wakes up in the morning to go to work; he has everyone jealous and prances around all proud, then tells you all about when he comes home :(

[gomzdrawfr]

🍰 Cafe AU ☕️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (you're here) | Part 4

[shadow0-1]

🌻

[jeleynai]

Nap Time <3

[machveil]

okay, what are our thoughts on Loser!Johnny because I have some loud ones

CW: Fem!Reader, oh no because I was rabid for this when I thought of it, Inexperienced!Virgin!Johnny, oral (fem!receiving)

Loser!Johnny whose charismatic, talkative self somehow can’t land a hookup. he’s not afraid to chat with a stranger, confident when he leans against a bar counter to flirt, but somehow no one ever goes for him. he’s had a couple dates, but they’d never call him back, and if they did they’d have an excuse to not meet up

Loser!Johnny who lies to the 141 about having hookups, about how he’s had dozens of partners - a little too insecure to admit he’s never done anything. he goes as far as to make scratch marks down his back himself so he can brag when they’re all changing. lying through his teeth, a lopsided smile masking his nerves as he talks about how, “Aye, the last lass left with a limp.”

Loser!Johnny who’s desperate for attention, he comes up to you and stays by your side for as long as he can. he’s touchy too, hands clinging to whatever you’ll let him grab. his ears are burning hot when you smile at him, when you laugh at his jokes, god forbid you touch him. his heart hammers against his chest when you rest your hand on his bicep

Loser!Johnny who goes slack jawed when he sees your midriff, cheeks burn a little hot when your neckline is low. he can’t help but stare at you, chest tight when he manages to look away. he feels pathetic, craves any form of affection you’ll give him. he knows he’s screwed when you call him handsome, your innocent little remark making him choke up

Loser!Johnny kisses you messily, all spit and teeth and too much tongue, hands moving to grope whatever he can. you’ve barely touched him and he’s already hard, painfully so as he tries to grind his bulge against your thigh. he’s too eager to feel you, can’t help the pitiful moans leaving him as you press a gentle kiss to his lips

Loser!Johnny who mumbles ‘thank you’s against your neck between sloppy kisses and nips, caught up in the moment - finally being able to be intimate with someone, with you. and, even though he knows you wouldn’t judge him, he keeps pretending. he’s lying to himself that he knows what to do, tells himself that he’s watched enough porn to know where he should touch you

Loser!Johnny who tries to eat you out, drooling against your cunt, spit and slick coating his scruffy chin. Johnny who moans deeply when your hand weaves into his hair, pulling him back. he nearly comes in his pants when you guide him, making him suck on your clit before he dips down to lap at your slit. his legs twitch when you whine, knees digging into the sheets as you tug at his mohawk

Loser!Johnny who flushes from embarrassment when he spills into his boxers, warm cum seeping into the fabric - all because you said his name, whined it with a sharp pull of his hair. he wants to talk to you, say something dirty while you cry out for him, but for once he doesn’t have anything witty to say. instead of praising you, or murmuring something degrading, he runs his mouth against your sobbing cunt

[eiraeths]

soap: hey lt you’ve donated blood, right?

ghost: yes

soap: you could be in someone’s boner right now

ghost:

[siriussimon]

just thinking about johnny being jealous and hating when he’s not the center of attention. a scottish man with a mohawk, how could he not be an attention seeker?

sitting at the bar johnny was nursing a glass of whiskey. the boys had been spread across the bar and he got stuck alone and slightly tipsy already. nobody’s come to talk to him yet and that’s brought his mood down significantly. usually he’s gone home by now with a pretty bird wrapped in his arms.

his eyes start scanning the bar looking for his saving grace. if he was getting anything tonight he new exactly where to go.

tha’ fuck?

his eyes had locked on to the big brute chatting up the prettiest thing he’s seen in awhile. she seemed timid, eyes fluttering, her fingers fumbling with her glass as she looked up at this weird fellow with a mask.

johnny downed the rest of his drink before walking towards the two.

“ah was lookin’ for ya, si.” johnny practically purred, pushing his way between the two of you and leaning himself up against the wall. simon gave him a deep hum, eyes squinting, knowing exactly what he wanted. like a dog asking for a bone.

you watched this whole interaction, downing the rest of your drink to ease the tension in your body. they looked pretty close…were they—

“why don’t ya introduce yourself, love?” simon’s gruff voice broke the silence, his eyes looked heavier as they looked at you, it looked like he moved closer to johnny too. what is happening?

“oh, uh, hi..johnny.” you murmured so sweetly, you told him your name, and he gave you a toothy grin in return.

“aren't ye sweet? hud tae see whit's git mah man's attention nicked fae me... Ah kin see why..” his eyes raking down your body, eyes steady on the cleavage peeking from your little top. didn’t help that you had clasped your hands in front of you out of nervous habit, not noticing the way your arms pushed your tits out even further for the filthy bastards in front of you.

“oh my god.. i’m so sorry. i didn’t know!” you frantically apologized, hand coming to rest on his bicep before turning to leave this terribly awkward situation. of course simon was taken, 6’5 bulk of a man, and his boyfriend was just as handsome.

johnnys finger hooked into your loop of your jeans pulling you back agaisnt him. your ass flush against his hips now, arm sprawling across your waist to pull you in incredibly close. you felt your face heat up when you notice simon get in front of the two of you boxing the both of you against the wall, shielding you from the rest of the crowded bar.

“look perfect wrapped up in his arms, birdie.” simon drawled out, fingers grazing along your cheek, pressing his thumb against the bottom of your lip. you felt your knees buckle but luckily johnny was there to hold you still.

you felt so overwhelmed but so fucking good. fuck it. two hot men fawning over you? when will you ever get this opportunity again. suddenly you were turning in johnnys arms, his forehead pressed against yours, hands splayed across the fat of your ass giving it a tight squeeze. a little squeak leaving your lips.

“now give ‘im a kiss. our boy needs us, yeah?” simon whispered agaisnt your ear.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

"You fight so dirty but you love so sweet, talk so pretty but your heart got teeth."

[lemonwrap]

Imagine: Omegaverse AU where Ghost had his scent gland cut out by Roba.

Ghost barely survived it, and now he doesn’t have a scent of his own. He’s never tried, but it’s a logical assumption that he won’t be able to sustain a mating bond, either. He can usually pass his lack of scent off as just using the scent suppressants military members almost always use on missions, but it’s harder during downtime when there’s not such a need for them.

Ghost is close to Soap, flirting and bantering with him constantly, likes him, but he never outright tells him. He likes Soap’s scent, too, an odd but alluring combination of citrus and a hint of gunpowder—one would think the two scents together would be offputting, but when it’s Soap, it’s not.

Ghost keeps the mask on to hide, and doesn’t lift it even to eat when others are around. It’s kind of a pain sometimes, really, and he’s considered being done with all the bullshit and just taking it off, but then Soap would know. He wants the bond and affection between them to last. It’s fucked up to lie to him, but Soap won’t want him when he finds out Ghost can’t actually bond with him, and Soap is the closest he’s been to someone in years.

Soap, while slightly skeptical of Ghost’s unwillingness to take off the mask, doesn’t entirely connect the dots and just thinks Ghost’s scent suppressants work amazingly.

Until the day Ghost sustains a head injury on a mission, that is. He’s losing blood fast and Soap can’t see a thing with the mask on, and he just barely convinces Ghost to take it off so he can staunch the blood flow better. Soap gets him patched up enough that he won’t bleed out on the way to exfil, but with the danger now past, he notices the deep, unmistakable scar of a botched scent gland removal on Ghost’s neck.

After Ghost is treated in medical, he makes an effort to avoid Soap, simply not wanting to bother with his pity or disgust.

Ghost knows Soap is attracted to him because his sergeant is the opposite of subtle, but if they had ever gotten that far, they’d never be able to truly bond. Soap deserves a real mate.

Soap catches on by halfway through the first day that Ghost is avoiding him, but Ghost is elusive if he wants to be, and Soap can’t get in a word with him outside of meetings or drills. There’s hardly a trace of the chemistry and camaraderie they’d fostered, and Soap doesn’t catch Ghost in the man’s favorite smoking spot on the roof until a week later.

Ghost hears him coming, but doesn’t pull his mask back down. Soap’s seen the scar anyways, so it doesn’t really matter.

“Long time no see, Lt,” Soap says.

Ghost doesn’t reply and takes a drag from his cigarette. He shouldn’t have let himself get so close to Soap, because he knew it’d go to shit once he found out about the scar. People usually date to bond. Ghost can’t.

“Care to share?” Soap asks. Ghost hums and gives the cigarette to Soap, and they silently pass it back and forth until it’s a stub.

“Gonna tell me why you were avoiding me?” Soap asks, blowing out the last puff of smoke. “Kinda rude to vanish on someone like that.”

“I would think you would’ve figured it out,” Ghost replies.

“If it’s about—“

Ghost cuts him off. “It is.”

“So you’ve been flirting with me and didn’t think to mention you don’t have a gland? I’ve wanted you for the past six fuckin’ months. No, since we met,” Soap says, dropping the cigarette butt to stamp it out. “You could’ve told me.”

“I didn’t say anything because I knew you’d act like this,” Ghost says, pointedly ignoring that Soap just admitted that he likes Ghost—or that he did at one point, anyway.

“So is the feeling mutual?” Soap asks.

“Yes,” Ghost says flatly. “But I can’t keep a bond. Move on and find someone else, Johnny.”

“It doesn’t make a difference,” Soap says resolutely. “I don’t want anyone else.”

Ghost doesn’t scoff, but he wants to. Of course it makes a difference.

“Just drop it, Soap,” Ghost says.

Soap does, for about ten seconds. Then he grabs Ghost by the collar and kisses him hard, smashing their lips together and biting at Ghost’s lips. Ghost kisses back just as hard, savoring how their bodies feel pressed together, hands gripping at each other’s clothes and skin.

This won’t last, but Ghost will take what he can get.

[gomzdrawfr]

Ghost and his enrichments needs

[sky-is-the-limit]

Not to be a bisexual stereotype here but if Price and Laswell wanted to pass me back and forth as their little sex toy, I wouldn't mind.

[pippynsworld]

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[dastardly-imbecile]

snippet from a WIP that is not 141 centered (but I couldn't help but include them in some way)

---

You’ve done at least six dozen bindings, by now, probably more, and you still cannot predict what the trees will give you—not one time, have they given you an identical creature. You think you could do a binding a day for a thousand years, and still, there would be more beasts yet that you would never lay eyes on. The monsters you bind are just as varied as the monsters you serve—good, bad, ugly. 

One of the best you can remember is a small fae sprite, who told jokes on the road and traded you a kiss for a pound of gold. Others are agreeable, but nothing remarkable—a bear shiftling who led you through the trees with the steady competence of a seasoned warhorse. Some are uncanny, like the being who took the form of a human man, dark-skinned and handsome, and who watched you at all times with a gaze you could not tell was malevolent or not.

It’s not often that there’s something bad, but you can recall, many months ago, a skeletal wraith with a skull for a face, who you had to rebind thrice, lest he escape. At the end of the journey, when you unbound him, he told you in no uncertain terms that if you ever roped him again, he would pry the jelly from your eyes and make your teeth into a necklace.

---

[capt-zjaybird]