#little soap

[theclowncarcircus]

Caregiver! Price who isn't as strict as you'd expect, except for with routine. Morning routine, night routine, nap times, mealtimes, and clean ups, he's on top of it all. He knows his boys need and do well with routine, so he makes sure to keep one. Also a big fan of sticker charts and treasure box treats.

Caregiver! Price who has learned how to cook at least minimally so his babies aren't eating microwave meals and MREs. He knows a few basic casseroles, and how to cook up veggies so that they get eaten.

Caregiver! Price who is great at soothing his boys no matter what. Nightmares? He's singing a lullaby and letting them cuddle in bed with him. Trauma induced regression? He's there for it with no judgment. Baby being just plain fussy? They get swaddled up and rocked in his rocking chair, being told a story.

Caregiver! Price who knows what it feels like to want love, attention, and care, so he works to provide that for his boys when they regress. He makes sure to have one on one outings with them. Making sure it's within their interests. Art classes at the library for Soap, puppet shows for Simon, and interactive museums for Gaz.

Caregiver! Price that never uses call signs or even real names with his boys. When they are little, it's either a shortened version of their name or a nickname.

Caregiver! Price who can't help but spoil his little ones a little A LOT, with toys they never had or lost during childhood, coloring books, movies, and even stuffed animals (the big ones that are practically body pillows) his boys can't have the full comfort of a nursery, and it's hard to find onesies that fit, so he makes up for it anyway he can.

Caregiver! Price, who was never able to settle down and have kids, realized that having his boys to take care of was just as fulfilling.

[jeleynai]

He's about to rain down a million smooches

Thank you so much to @tacticallyunsoundjohnnyboy for commissioning me to draw my favourite husbands 🫶

[superhoeva]

you nudge soap one night, and he turns to you with sleepy eyes.

“s’wrong, bonnie?”

you tell him it’s nothing. you just wanted to see if he wanted a midnight snack. the man is perking up before you can explain what you meant, smiling brightly and ripping the blanket off the both of you. ignoring your sputters, soap is in between your legs in record time, only having enough patience to pull the cotton to the side before dipping his tongue straight against your clit.

“fu-johnny, i meant food. actual food…” you trail off with a gasp, hurrying to grab at his hair, the suckle of his lips force a shiver through your legs.

“fuck yer food,” he smacks, spitting on your hole, and diving back in. “got the perfect meal right here…”

(gaz's version here!)

[yooo-lets-go]

Ghostsoap in Polish Army PT uniforms

[jeyumi]

Starscream’s job interview is going great! Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll get the position.

Starstay AU: 1 2 3 4

[sillyswriting]

: ̗̀➛ ex-friend with benefits simon 'ghost' riley & friend with benefits johnny 'soap' mactavish - 01

𝖼𝗐 : 𝗌𝖾𝗑𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆𝖾

ㅤㅤ     ㅤ  ㅤㅤㅤ collection - prev ⋆ next

simon hated how thin the walls of the barracks were. he hated the way he could hear your moans through the wall, hated the fact that it wasn't him getting those sounds out of you. but at the same time, he was the only one to blame.

from the moment you arrived on base, simon had his eyes on you—the cute new medic. he had been happily surprised when you told him you were not looking for anything serious; he wasn’t either. being military was complicated enough, no need to add a relationship into the mix. but it didn’t mean you two couldn’t have a bit of fun together, right?

at first, it was perfect. you spent your days patching up messy privates and bold sergeants, getting shouted at by your superior because you were not fast enough or you were being too nice. at the end of the day, you just needed simon to take control. he was not a selfish lover at all, always making sure you were well taken care of before he went for his own pleasure. after that, you'd be on your way to your own dorm, legs shaking a little. and it worked well, you didn't think you needed more.

simon didn't talk much. he listened when you ranted, but he always cut you off by kissing you or manhandling you onto his bed. that’s where you spent most of your time with him: his bed. and when you were done, he'd send you on your way. it didn't bother you; you weren't looking for commitment.

only one thing bothered you: he was hiding you. sure, you were not together, but he made sure his teammates didn't know he was rocking your world almost every night when you were on base. when you asked him why, it turned into a big argument—too big for just a situationship—so you had left his room without trying to talk him out of his misplaced anger. you thought you'd leave him be for a few days, and then you'd be back to normal. working on yourself, you accepted the fact that his team didn’t know about your arrangement. it didn’t matter.

it came as a shock when you made your way to his dorm, a couple days later, and stumbled upon one of the sergeants from another task force making her way out of simon's room on wobbling legs—a sight that reminded you of your own walks of shame. you had barged into his room, not caring that he might be naked, and demanded explanations.

"ya weren't 'round, needed a bit o' fun," was all he had said, shirtless and smoking a cigarette at his window. he didn't even look at you. it was like he knew you would be coming.

you weren't around? you had been working because two idiots decided to have a knife fight, leaving you with a lot of stitches and paperwork.

and it's not as if you were both back home; you were staying at the same fucking barracks.

on your way back to your room, you walked straight into johnny mactavish. and johnny being johnny, he flirted with you. and with you being hurt and humiliated, it worked. it didn't help that johnny was extremely good-looking and very friendly. hell, simon didn't even let you see his face.

now that you were having the same fun with someone who wasn't ashamed of you, you realized that it did pain you that simon wouldn't even dare look your way if he was with the 141. not only did johnny look at you, but he shamelessly flirted with you in front of whoever was around, calling you "his bonnie," even though he knew you were not official. it felt good.

so this was how you ended up in johnny's bed. to be honest, you were feeling petty, so you were being loud, not even trying to quiet your moans a little. every time you had sex with simon, his hands were always somehow muffling your moans. but johnny? oh, johnny thrived on hearing every single noise you made. and you thrived knowing simon was hearing it all on the other side of the wall. at first, you had been shy, expecting johnny to want to hide you the same way simon did, but you couldn't have been more wrong.

he stopped everything, looking up from between your legs with a bit of concern. "doesnae feel guid?" he asked. and after you assured him that it did, in deed, feel really good, he added, "then dinnae get shy on me, bonnie. want tae hear ye," a cocky smirk plastered on his lips. and you swore he had never been that attractive.

well, maybe he had been more attractive when, after you two were done, he cuddled you, begging you to stay the night. another thing you'd never imagined simon doing. it was easy with johnny. it wasn't just sex. he'd take you out to eat junk food, you'd go to the movies next to the base, and then you'd go back and have your fun. you even heard him talk about you with gaz. and you'd talk about him with your colleagues.

when simon was a shadow, johnny was the sun—his presence impossible to conceal.

the problem was that johnny still had no bloody idea that simon had been there first. every time johnny mentioned your name, simon's mood would shift. he'd snap more often, telling johnny to shut up—something that wasn’t new, given johnny's tendency to talk a lot. what was new, however, was the tone. normally, when he was fed up with johnny running his mouth, simon would adopt a light, almost joking tone. but now? it was pure anger and frustration.

"whit got yer panties in a twist, L.T.?" johnny had asked one time, too fed up with simon's behavior. "maybe ye should find yerself a little birdie to ease yer nerves, ye know?" simon's reaction was immediate. he got up so quickly his chair fell back. johnny could see the way his lieutenant's breathing had picked up, his knuckles white as if he were about to hit soap. but he did no such thing. he just left. communication had never been simon's strong suit.

as johnny watched him leave, he knew he had gone too far. but, god, how could you both think he was that dumb? his room was just next to simon's. he had heard you all those times. he had seen you leaving simon's room. he had seen simon take another girl back. he knew.

johnny just decided that if simon was too dumb to treat a sweet little birdie like a goddess, he wouldn't be caught dead doing the same thing. johnny worshiped, that was what he did. and if someone hurt the things he liked, he attacked.

he was dead set on making you forget everything about his lieutenant. what was it they said?

finders keepers, losers weepers.

[deunmiu-dessie-sideblog]

lmao thinking about how the tf141 men know you're serious by the way you say their given names. like they just turn docile immediately, no matter what they're doing or their positions.

“kyle, johnny, zip it.” swiveling in your chair, you turn your gaze towards them and glare, lips set into a thin line. the two men who sit next to each other stop their quiet bickering and nod softly, focusing on laswell once more.

ghost usually avoids doing med checkups when the time of year rolls around and it just ends up making the medical professional's jobs harder than it needs to be (they usually come to you in order to get him to do it.) “simon, i’m not in the mood. now.” he sulks and broods (swears he doesn't.) but nonetheless does the med check up, that you sit in on so he doesn't run.

price isn't exempt from it either, despite being captain. during a mission including farah and her people, the two had been going back and forth on the trek to the meet-up point. annoyed you had stopped price with a hand to his chest and met his eyes. “john, leave it alone. we don't have time for this.” he’d kept eye contact for a bit but had nodded, clapping you on the shoulder. “heard, seargent.”

ppl call you the 141 whisperer 💀 lolll

[temeyes]

missed these sillies :^(

[naiad-r]

dogteeth

Excellent for unnerving looks and throat-ripping. Ghost thinks they're very cute.

[beloveds-embrace]

Vampire poly 141 x reader where they don’t tell you they are vampires and you have no reason to suspect they are. Why would you? They are supernatural creatures, you’ve seen all four of them eat garlic bread, their reflections show in mirrors and refelctive surfaces.

But.

Sometimes they say and do such strange things- John talks about historical events almost as if they happened just a few days ago, and he was there. Simon’s storage room has antiques so old you have no idea how they have even survived, and he grumbles whenever you tell him he should sell them to see how much they’ll make. Kyle could navigate through the dark like it was second nature- like it wasn’t affecting him at all, and you’d always just wonder how. Johnny’s hands were always so cold to the touch, no matter tje weather or what he was wearing or where he was.

Still, all of those simply didn’t stick out that much to you. So you never suspected.

But still…

Lately, you’ve been waking up so very sore in the neck, weak and lethargic. Sore in the spot they all seemed to love kissing and nuzzling so much. You are so grateful for their help and care- they ply you with sweets fruits and oily fishes, leafy greens and nuts to help your body, and they hold you in their arms and let you rest as much as you need.

Though it still persists, and it gets especially worse when your period drops by. They are even more attentive, offering massages and forehead kisses and cuddles.

But now you wake up sore in the neck and thighs… as if they’ve been kept in one position for too long. At least you are miraculously very clean when you check, and you have four men spoiling you rotten.

[theclowncarcircus]

Simon and the swings

(Not really proof read, just a silly drabble of little 141)

Price loves his boys. Strong, resilient, and capable, they were a perfect team. And an even better family. They mostly lived together. It was easier than renting out places that you aren't going to be living in during deployment. Price bought a modest farm house on an ache of land. Privacy, room to move and work out.

Room to play. Sure, if someone looked at Price's backyard, they'd be convinced he ran a small day care of 20 very big toddlers. But in reality, he and the boys had spent time building an elaborate playground for them to use when they regressed.

Swings, monkey bars, a small platform that had two slides, and a fireman pole. Price had to do a lot of research, and spent a lot of time tinkering and self testing, managed a small merry go round that could fit all four boys. Of course, the playground was a big hit, but outdoor time was always a given with the regressed boys.

Today, even Gaz was regressed, eagerly helping Roach climb up the platform stairs to the slide. Price watches happily, ready to settle down on his chair under the umbrella when he notices Ghost on his own in the swings. The little one sat alone, everyone more eager to run around and play, but he wanted to swing, wiggling and kicking his legs weakly to get some momentum.

"Oh bub.." Price coos softly under his breath, setting his lemonade down and starting to walk over. "What's going on here, little one?" He asks lovingly, crouching down on front of him. Simon let out a huff, a whine, and his pout pushes his pacifier against his mask. "Ah.. understood. Want me to give you a push?" He offers, smiling softly.

Simon smiles a little, nodding happily and reaching out to rub Price's beard. "Mm! Mmhmm!" He hums, stimming excitedly as his Papa gets up and starts to pull the swings chain back. Simon had spent so much of his childhood, so much of his life, being misunderstood, being left alone, and being told he was a burden when he couldn't communicate.

But now, it was like Price could take one look into his eyes, listen to one hum, and he knew what Simon needed. Price, let's go of the chain, grinning at the squeal Simon let's out as he swings forward. Price is careful not to let him go too high. Sometimes, Simon would accidentally lose grip on the chain, falling out of the swings. So until Price could finish the swings with a seat belt, he was going to stay close to the ground.

He looks over at the play structure, watching Johnny happily climbing around on the moneky bars. He knew he should be worried that he was crawling on all fours above the monkey bars, but there was no point in getting him to stop. If anything, Johnny could fall off, take a small breather, and after a few hugs and kisses, would go back to doing it. As if sensing Price's eyes on him, he looks over and grins.

"Hi Papa!!" He squeals before going back to concentrate on his crawling. Kyle was watching Roach come down the slide, helping the little one back onto his feet when he reached the bottom of the slide.

Simon let's out another happy squeal as he swings, making a small grunt sound that sound like he needed a break. Price holds onto the chains and helps him slow to a start, rubbing his back softly and kneeling beside him. "What's up, button?" He asks softly, Simon hums quietly with a little shrug. "Wanna go play now? Feel ready?" He offers, seeing a little smile from under his balaclava.

"Si! Wanna play?" Johnny asks, standing beside the swing out of nowhere. Price never fails to be amazed how quietly his boys can move, even when regressed. Simon squeaks happily, nodding a little as he climbs to his feet and toddles after the Scott. Price watches with a smile, staring at the scene in front of him before heading back to his chair.

They'd be napping good tonight.

[jeleynai]

Baby's first attempt at comic panelling |･ω･)

The cat's name is "Dove - like the soap brand"

[hai-nae]

favoured

[yeyinde]

surreal/psychological horror + Soap where you agree to house sit for a coworker when they take off for a vacation. but a man shows up and tells you he's supposed to be staying there too.

their son, he shrugs. came home on leave from the military. crashin' here. thought mam might'a said somethin'.

she didn't, but it's fine. and he's harmless. sort of. maybe. you're not sure, really. because he's a little pushy. has a wild temper that ebbs and flows at intervals you can't really keep up with. tempestuous. mercurial. but he makes dinner. he tells you about what he did—not all of it, but some. like why he was sent home as he gestures to the raw scar on his temple.

need some tlc, he quips with a sharp grin. and lucky him because he found the prettiest little doe waitin' fer him.

harmless. a soldier. you can trust that, right?

but he stares at you with a naked hunger, like he wants to eat you alive. but it's gone when you really look. and sometimes, things go missing. your clothes. panties. odd stuff around the house. he hides the newspaper in the trash before you can see it. says the cable is out on the television—Netflix only. no news. he can't—he can't bare to see it. trauma. you wouldn't put him through that, would you, doe? no. you're a good girl. the best.

(at night, asleep. a nightmare; his rough voice in your ear: his good girl. so good for him. so wet—)

and it's just three weeks.

you'll be fine.

(—even though you taste him in the morning. on your lips. your tongue. the back of your throat. salty, bitter. but—there's a pack of salted licorice on the table. fifteen pieces, it reads. maybe you ate them. fuck, got such a pretty mouth, doe. you count each piece. gonna make me cum. fifteen. it's fine. it's fine. there's an ache between your thighs. a tenderness you lie to yourself about as you ignore the stickiness pooling in the gusset of your panties. fuck, doe, ahm gonna—)

absolutely fine.

until your coworker calls after finally getting cell reception. chatting in your ear about her vacation. normal. totally normal. and her son? you tell her. he's been a real help around the house, too (but she should maybe talk to him about sneaking into your bedroom at night because that's so weird, it's so strange; you don't want to wake up to a man staring at you in the dark, or catch the scent of sage on your pillow anymore, the lingering heat—please tell him to stop doing that because when you do, he just gets a weird look on his face like you're the problem, and it's just all so—)

"what son? we don't—we don't have a son—"

the phone line cutting out doesn't really surprise you. and neither does the creak of the floorboards. the solid weight of a chest against your back. the press of metal. a warm, firm palm folding over your throat, anchoring you in place.

a soft, mournful coo:

"ah really didnae want ye tae find out like th', doe. ah thought we had time together." his hand tightens. breath heavy, ragged against the shell of your ear. "but we gotta go, doe. it's time for us tae leave—"

(maybe you should have pushed back harder against letting him hide the paper, or barring you from watching the news. you might have seen a familiar face.)

[drgnflyteabox]

The tension between the waitress Soap tipped 20$ to sing happy birthday to Ghost as a mean spirited prank (on you) and Ghost who's staring right at your tits, making you uncomfortable, thinking Johnny just got him the best gift a man could ask for (he's gonna kidnap you after your shift) 🧍‍♀️

[mindie-arts]

More cod ponies✨

With pony ghost lore drop🫡✨ + Laswell