sunshine-and-moonshine

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Happy mermay to disc fish Price specifically

i was thinking of mermay and cod. Thinking of what types of mermen the 141 would be when my brain threw “Disc Fish Price” at me and I had to wheeze because I just imagined a Disc Fish in that fucking hat and smoking a cigar.

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*scrolling through for you page, seeing the top of a fuck ass Mohawk*: Johnny or Eddie?

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RIP Anthony Dimmond, you would have loved watching Hannibal and Will fuck nasty

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”oh captain, my captain” I whisper as I lovingly stroke a picture of ‘09 Soap

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tried posting this earlier but tumblr ate it. Anyways, I think CoD men have a preference for people with jobs that breed dark humor. Other military, firefighters, cops, forensics, morticians, etc

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You know that “feel my legs” thing after you’ve shaved them? That but with Soap except he’s just softly petting your skin while looking like this:

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IDK, Polyam Price to ME is him being surrounded by a few plump wives that he would crawl on glass for, loving the way they chirp to each other and kiss each other and eat out each other’s cunts while he’s been relegated to a corner to stroke his cock, utterly cucked.

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Delta!Reader being so distressed and upset that it just comes off their scent in these thick unbearable waves, damn near drowning Alpha!141 who try their best to comfort you and coax you into a better mood. Some (coughGhostcough) don’t even realize they’re doing it. Gaz purrs for you, nuzzling his head against your shoulder and softly lapping at the sensitive scent glands on your neck til you’re a melted puddle in his hands. Soap is overeager, too pushy with his worry, breaking into your room to lay on your bed and rub his body all over your sheets so they’ll smell like him, sure that it will help calm you. Price pets your head, stroking your cheeks and praising you for how well you keep it together. His good brave Delta. Simon does a little bit of all three, short grumbling purrs welling up in his chest when you’re close, insisting that you wear his largest t-shirt that smells exactly like him, and letting a few words of praise slip from his mouth as he suckles and nips at the scent glands on your wrists as you squirm and writhe under him.

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Dare I say, Cherry Popper Price? He goes for the lonely older type. The type that had either no one or very few when they were younger. The type that’s shy, reserved, that melts under the slightest hint of praise. The type that feels ashamed of still being a virgin at their age, who clamp their legs closed when he tries to get his first real look at their sex. Yeah….yeah…..

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“Feel good, Pup?” You huff out, grabbing Johnny by his mohawk and roughly shaking him, making him choke on the thick cock you had shoved down his throat, the balled ends of your Jacob's ladder slamming around in his esophagus, like a dozen little battering rams to a flimsy door. “Come on, dumb little puppy. Tell me how good my piercings feel in your stupid whore hole. Come on!” You say, pulling his head back just to slam it down even harsher, til your balls tickled his chin and he went cross eyed from a mix of pleasure and oxygen deprivation. “Fucking pathetic little slut. Maybe I should just drop you off at the end of the street with a sign pinned to that pretty ass of yours. ‘Free holes for use.’ That sound good to you, Puppy?” You ask with a mean spirited chuckle, your cock giving a heavy twitch as Johnny’s eyes filled with tears and he tried to shake his head, only to hurt himself in the process.

“No, please, I’ll be goo-” Johnny tries to say when you pull him off for a scant few milliseconds, only for you push his head lower, forcing his mouth against the sweaty heft of your balls, yanking at his hair until he opens his jaw and starts to suck at sack. Softly, slowly, like he was kissing them, like he was trying to be romantic when your piercings were getting tangled in his hair and his eyes were going dumb in that way they always did when he was getting cock drunk.

Suffice to say, it seemed like he liked your piercings.

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Personally, I think Simon’s type is someone who could have two broken legs, internal bleeding, and a gunshot wound right to the face but will still try to climb him like a tree.

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Alejandro always spoils you with birthday gifts but your first one, without fail, is him naked and spread out on the bed, a cockring in your favorite color around his hard-on and that mischievous grin on his face.

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Unfortunately my mind is full of Farah and Alex and their little baby girl with mama’s hair and papa’s eyes. Little Farida Keller-Karim who toddles after Alex like a duckling but practically worships her mother, the same way other girls look at Super-Woman. With sparkles in her eyes and admiration, mind full of fantasies of being just like her.

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Farah so desperately wants to be angry that her baby’s first word is “Papa” (she pushed that 10 pound monstrosity out of her cooch for almost a full 12 hours and this is the thanks she gets?!) but she just can’t even bring herself to be mildly annoyed because Alex is full on sobbing, on his knees, snotty and everything while he hugs that little girl close to his chest. So she guesses it’s fine that her first word was papa.

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Got my hair in pigtails right now and I’m just thinking of one Soap MacTavish using them as handlebars while he fucks my brains out

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Ugh, Price stepping on the back of Soap’s head to keep his face buried against your genitals, calling him a filthy little mutt who needs dick/pussy at all hours 😵‍💫

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Johnny takes one look at cryptid!reader, all big teethed and furry and unnaturally wide eyed and goes “yeah…..imma stick my dick in that”