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Soap 100% is the kind of guy you can rely on to do the thing where you cross your arms and he lifts you to crack your back. It is so immensely satisfying but you have to be careful not to make a single groan otherwise his bulge is going to poke you in the spine and he WILL start grinding it there

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I'm still on this please forgive me. This is better than school work 🙂

Gear clanks. Cold wind nips at exposed fingers. Gaz is tying his boots with the grim efficiency... because the more missions they do with Shadow Company, the more he gets doubly assaulted by the thickening of drawn Texas Southern and rapid Scottish.

Graves, hopping into the truck bed with Soap: “We gone head in nice an’ easy, cut left soon as we pop that breach, and haul ass straight fer that tower, y’here?”

Soap, nodding, they’re on the same frequency: “Aye, nae bother. We’ll skelp ‘em right in the jaw if they even peek. Like auld mam used tae do.”

Graves: “Hell yeah. Like roastin’ squirrels on a Sunday, quick, hot, and messy.”

Soap: “Ye need tae stop talkin’, I can feel my brain meltin’.”

Gaz, looking between them: “I’m gonna be honest, I caught maybe four words of that.”

Price: “Four more than I did.”

Graves, elbowing Soap: “Don’t be jealous, boys. This here’s elite tactical synergy.”

Soap: “Aye, peak performance. Ye just wouldnae understand.”

Ghost, appearing: “You sound like a bagpipe fuckin’ a chainsaw.”

Soap, grinning like a gremlin: “Oh, ye wound me, Ghost. Jealous I got fans?”

Ghost: “Jealous you’re still breathing.”

Graves, chuckling: “Now now, darlin’, no need for death threats before breakfast.”

Ghost: “‘Darlin’ me again and I’m putting a bullet in your kneecap.”

Soap: “Bit romantic, that.”

Gaz, hands on his head: “I hate this mission already.”

Price: “Focus up, all of you. We move in ten.”

Graves: “Right. Who’s breaching? I’ll go first if Soap 'ere don’t mind backin’ me up.”

Soap: “Only if ye don’t trip on yer big Texan boots. We’ve standards tae uphold.”

Graves: “Woah now, these boots are heritage.”

Soap: “So’s dysentery, but we got rid o’ that.”

Ghost: “I hope you both get shot. Just a little.”

Graves: “Y’all’d’ve kept up if ye had the range, mate.”

Gaz, pleading: “Please. Say we’re takin’ separate trucks.”

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LAD's in circus outfits 🫣🎪 After 3 weeks I actually finished drawing them all 😭

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Ghoulettes!

Tip jar

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Heheeee another doodle page for y’all! Still in desperate need of the practice smh- 🤦‍♀️

Featuring (embarrassingly old) requests by @thatoneautisticshark, @lialucis, and one tumblr anon 👍🫶

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I just know Levi would eat you out so good. 

He would have you propped up on the bed, legs on either side of his head, his tongue soothing the delicious burn of your need.

At first, he would tease you over the thin fabric of your panties until he’d bunch them up, dragging them back and forth all over your cunt. He would be so enamoured by you, he’d probably be able to get off just by pleasuring you.

It would be so sensual, too-his jaw moving with his tongue, drawing languid and big circles over not just your clit, but your entire pussy, slowly, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs. His hands would be gentle, caressing and moving your legs into the positions most comfortable for you. He would leisurely make you go hazy with arousal, and I stand by that.

I picture him spreading your folds gently with his fingers, disconnecting himself from your sex. A thin string of saliva glistens brightly, linking him to your pussy. His face is obscured by the dim atmosphere in the room, and he has a lustful expression on his face as he pulls back to examine you.

You look totally fucked out, lost in the feeling of his hands and tongue running over your sensitive skin. You whimper as a beady string of spit lands on your clit. He thumbs over your entrance, and you clench down hard on him. He groans.

It is a constant cycle of giving you more than you can handle, and not enough at the same time. Levi knows that. And yet, he doesn’t want to give you his all for now. You’re deserving of it, but he believes in the ability to wait. 

And so Levi knows that he’s got you right where he wants you. He gently traces his nose against your inner thighs, pressing a single kiss to the area right below your throbbing clit. He’s teasing you constantly, and you hiss loudly. The only sounds in the room are your panting, and the obscene sounds of him licking you all over. Your legs tremble uncontrollably.

Though he would never admit it, he’s smitten by you, and he would give you the world if you asked him for it- especially in moments like these, when he knows you have such a tight hold on him. At the end of a long, hard day Levi would ruin you just for his own satisfaction. 

So he pinches your clit between his pointer finger and thumb, and rubs them in circles over and over again. The air hangs heavy with the smell of sex and musk.

His lips part as he admires you from below, grey eyes glazed over and focused on your wetness.  Your toes crack and curl. You wheeze loudly. He coos.

“Levi!”- you moan, grabbing fistfuls of his raven hair, gaze boring right through you. Your hips inevitably raise under the devastating pressure, and you think he might let you tip over the edge, when all of a sudden…

Nothing. All his ministrations stop. 

You’re confused for a second before his hand comes down forcefully on your cunt, slapping your clit. 

Your legs jolt, and you gasp. Levi is quick to shush you. 

“Does this feel good?”

You mewl. He hums as his entire palm massages your cunt, rich baritone filling your ears. 

“It does, doesn’t it, sweetheart?”

Yeah, he really would eat you out good. 

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Alpha!141 thoughts

Offering to help Johnny through his upcoming rutt and he's just so desperate the whole time, biting the collar you wore so hard he leaves permanent impressions in it. You're left sore for days because he just can't stop tasting, scenting and humping you the entire time. He's whining and trying to hump you even with a full knot.

Offering to help John during his rutt and he's the biggest baby during it. It's Manflu Central and he'll be even grumpier if you don't coddle him while your perched on his knot.

Offering to help Gaz with his rutt ends up with him begging just let me pup you in the sweetest voice and he tears up from how good it all feels.

Offering to help Ghost with his rutt is a feat in itself and he falls asleep between sessions curled up with his ear pressed against your sternum.

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Thinking about Gaz trying to hit on insecure!reader at the bar, but he's oblivious to the fact that she's self-conscious until he starts talking to her. And for the first time in his life, he gets turned down...and he's never been more attracted to anyone in his life.

Maybe you were all on your own bc your friends abandoned you, or maybe you showed up on your own in an attempt to be flirted with. But once you got there you felt too insecure to look anyone in the eye, so you've kept your gaze locked on your drink since you arrived.

Maybe Gaz sees you - a pretty bird - all on your own and looking sad. It doesn't even cross his mind that you could be insecure, after all, you're gorgous. But you've never seen yourself that way.

So when he finally works up the courage and gets a bit of encouragement from his team, he slinks up next to you and turns on the charm, like he always does with women.

But it doesn't work out like he planned.

There's no blushing smiles and bashful giggles coming from you. Only a blank, surprised stare and tensed muscles. You even look around like you think he's talking to someone else.

I mean, he couldn't possibly be hitting on you, right? It must be some kind of joke, or prank, or...something. Someone that handsome would not be interested in someone like you. And your concerns are only confirmed when he glances over his shoulder and gets a thumbs-up and a wide, toothy grin from some idiot with a mohawk.

He thinks maybe he's just making you nervous, but when you flinch when he calls you 'beautiful', he knows he's done something wrong. He just doesn't know what.

Of course, it's not his fault. He doesn't know how many times you've been asked out as a joke...or a prank...or a dare. Nobody's ever made a genuine effort to be with you. And he's struck a chord in you hard enough to make you have to swallow against the lump forming in your throat.

"You think it's funny to go up to random girls and make fun of them?" Your trembling voice speaks up as you cling to your drink, trying to seem tough even as the tears build in your eyes.

"Make fun-?" He doesn't even get to finish voicing his confusion before your standing up, staring down at his brown, puppy-dog eyes with the firmest glare you can muster despite your tears.

"You might be this...this handsome guy, but that doesn't mean you can be mean!" You stutter out as you gather up your purse clumsily, like you're desperate to get away from him...which you are...even if he is the hottest man who has ever talked to you.

"Love, I wasn't making fun of you-" He desperately tries to salvage the situation as he watches in horror as your tears begin to roll down your cheeks, but you quickly snap back. "Oh, save it! You...you asshole!" You seem to hesitate for a moment before you grip your drink tightly and splash it into his face, but he can tell by the immediate guilt lacing your features that you regret your choice.

Before either of you can say anything else, you gather your purse and practically sprint to the exit. But in your hurry, you don't realize you've left behind your wallet - which Gaz picks up once he's broken himself out of the shock you've left him in.

He returns to his table - slightly dazed and dripping with strawberry daquiri as he stares down at your I.D., completely lost in thought as he studies the small picture of your face smiling sweetly at the camera. It looks nothing like the gorgeous woman he saw sitting at the bar - you looked...different, on your license. Not ugly, per se, but you were certainly more awkward when that picture was taken. You just hadn't come into yourself quite yet, and he can already picture how people must've been treating you when you looked like that. And it finally clicks for him.

You genuinely thought he was just teasing you, like you've probably always been teased. But this time, you had enough confidence in yourself to at least tell him to fuck off, even if you did it with tears in your eyes.

Ghost's voice breaks through the barrier first, with a gruff "fuck was tha' about?"

"Aye, what'd ye say to tha poor lass?" Soap's concern quickly follows, his head craning to look out the window as he watches you scurry down the dark street with tears in your eyes. "Couldnae be good from tha' look on her bonnie face."

Their words barely register in Gaz's mind, especially when he's too focused on the way his heart is pounding against his ribs as he tears his eyes away from your picture. "I think I just met the love of my life."

"What?"

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Thinking about Gaz trying to hit on insecure!reader at the bar, but he's oblivious to the fact that she's self-conscious until he starts talking to her. And for the first time in his life, he gets turned down...and he's never been more attracted to anyone in his life.

Maybe you were all on your own bc your friends abandoned you, or maybe you showed up on your own in an attempt to be flirted with. But once you got there you felt too insecure to look anyone in the eye, so you've kept your gaze locked on your drink since you arrived.

Maybe Gaz sees you - a pretty bird - all on your own and looking sad. It doesn't even cross his mind that you could be insecure, after all, you're gorgous. But you've never seen yourself that way.

So when he finally works up the courage and gets a bit of encouragement from his team, he slinks up next to you and turns on the charm, like he always does with women.

But it doesn't work out like he planned.

There's no blushing smiles and bashful giggles coming from you. Only a blank, surprised stare and tensed muscles. You even look around like you think he's talking to someone else.

I mean, he couldn't possibly be hitting on you, right? It must be some kind of joke, or prank, or...something. Someone that handsome would not be interested in someone like you. And your concerns are only confirmed when he glances over his shoulder and gets a thumbs-up and a wide, toothy grin from some idiot with a mohawk.

He thinks maybe he's just making you nervous, but when you flinch when he calls you 'beautiful', he knows he's done something wrong. He just doesn't know what.

Of course, it's not his fault. He doesn't know how many times you've been asked out as a joke...or a prank...or a dare. Nobody's ever made a genuine effort to be with you. And he's struck a chord in you hard enough to make you have to swallow against the lump forming in your throat.

"You think it's funny to go up to random girls and make fun of them?" Your trembling voice speaks up as you cling to your drink, trying to seem tough even as the tears build in your eyes.

"Make fun-?" He doesn't even get to finish voicing his confusion before your standing up, staring down at his brown, puppy-dog eyes with the firmest glare you can muster despite your tears.

"You might be this...this handsome guy, but that doesn't mean you can be mean!" You stutter out as you gather up your purse clumsily, like you're desperate to get away from him...which you are...even if he is the hottest man who has ever talked to you.

"Love, I wasn't making fun of you-" He desperately tries to salvage the situation as he watches in horror as your tears begin to roll down your cheeks, but you quickly snap back. "Oh, save it! You...you asshole!" You seem to hesitate for a moment before you grip your drink tightly and splash it into his face, but he can tell by the immediate guilt lacing your features that you regret your choice.

Before either of you can say anything else, you gather your purse and practically sprint to the exit. But in your hurry, you don't realize you've left behind your wallet - which Gaz picks up once he's broken himself out of the shock you've left him in.

He returns to his table - slightly dazed and dripping with strawberry daquiri as he stares down at your I.D., completely lost in thought as he studies the small picture of your face smiling sweetly at the camera. It looks nothing like the gorgeous woman he saw sitting at the bar - you looked...different, on your license. Not ugly, per se, but you were certainly more awkward when that picture was taken. You just hadn't come into yourself quite yet, and he can already picture how people must've been treating you when you looked like that. And it finally clicks for him.

You genuinely thought he was just teasing you, like you've probably always been teased. But this time, you had enough confidence in yourself to at least tell him to fuck off, even if you did it with tears in your eyes.

Ghost's voice breaks through the barrier first, with a gruff "fuck was tha' about?"

"Aye, what'd ye say to tha poor lass?" Soap's concern quickly follows, his head craning to look out the window as he watches you scurry down the dark street with tears in your eyes. "Couldnae be good from tha' look on her bonnie face."

Their words barely register in Gaz's mind, especially when he's too focused on the way his heart is pounding against his ribs as he tears his eyes away from your picture. "I think I just met the love of my life."

"What?"

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is that Soap here in this room with us, Ghost?

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crops them EVEN MORE (more ghoap cuddles yay!)

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Simon "Ghost" Riley

Credit: OG Ghost render by Pavseh@deviantart

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a very belated wip wednesday snippet: sugar plum promises, pt. 2

Simon feels like he’s going to piss himself.  He’s been standing in front of his bathroom mirror, eyeing his rugged appearance with great annoyance for the past twenty-five minutes, taking in the sight of his damp and obviously outgrown undercut, the loose and messy dark blonde strands on the crown of his head, along with his stubbled chin—and he wonders why the bloody hell he’s even bothering so much.  He takes a deep, shaky breath while his tawny eyes flicker over his reflection once more before he runs a hand through his hair and gives up, reaching for his skull balaclava. Then, Simon looks down at himself, checking the dark jeans and grey T-shirt he’s randomly plucked from his meagre wardrobe, and it’s when he decides that if you didn’t mind chatting him up while he was wearing cargos and combat boots earlier, you won’t mind this plain arse outfit now. A moment later, Simon paces in front of the small coffee table in his living room, glancing at the clock.  6:46 PM. You texted him dinner will be ready at seven. 

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He bought the shirt himself and presented it to you like a proud peacock while you're having a coffee in the kitchen—Winnie Pooh-style. 🙂

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equality wins! every one gets deployed

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lads x reader smau - texting the gc “i want 5 guys” …

* crack, minor slut-shaming (written in a joking manner, these boys would never actually slut shame you they love you 😭😭), fem!reader

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I had some free time and did this 🙊

Just guys being dudes, nothing to see here🤷🏻‍♀️