#Soap COD

[ramerooni]

Soap n Ghost Expressions

Ghost is full FOAP mode because skin-tight balaclava is hard, but I'm overall happy with how expressive he is, even with a mask.

[esealia-art]

I'll see you on the other side of the war.

[batsybat91]

"No, no, no, you have to believe me!!" Soap argues with Gaz. "He has a little fiancée who lives in a cottage with him! She planted flowers in his walkway! And she scolded him for crushing them when he was piss drunk!"

"Ghost doesn't even like flowers," Gaz sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this is the hundredth time he's heard this. Maybe it is, knowing Soap. "Not unless they're dead, I reckon."

"I swear it on me mum and me sisters!" Soap exclaims, raising his right hand as if swearing on the Bible. "She had a little bookcase under her telly, and embroidered throw pillows on the couches! With blankets softer than anythin' I have ever seen!"

"Enough!" Price grumbles, sitting up from his chair like a father who has heard enough bloody arguing. "Soap, stop making up stories. Gaz, stop instigating shit."

"No, no! Cap, you gotta believe me!" Soap begs. "She answered the door in a pink slip gown! She had paintings of flowers on her walls! With butterflies!"

"Oh, aye, and d'ya suppose she had curlers in her hair?" Price snorts. "I've been to Ghost's house, Soap. It has movie posters, pinup girls, and ashtrays. Nothing like what you're saying."

"How long ago was that?!" Soap exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

"I'd say about two years ago," hums Price, scratching his beard thoughtfully.

Just then, Ghost walks into Price's office, where the boys had been idly chatting. Price offers him a cigarette, which Ghost refuses. "My lady asked me to stop smokin'," he grunts. "Started chewin' gum instead."

"Oh, right." Gaz tosses a crumpled sticky note at Ghost. "You and Soap are trying to play a prank on us, innit?"

"It's real!" Soap shouts, exasperated.

"What's real?" Ghost crosses his arms.

"The woman at your house! In the pink nightie with the pretty eyes and the flowers!" Soap points at him with an accusing finger. "Your fiancée."

Ghost just shrugs and makes a noncommittal noise. Price and Gaz are still looking at Soap like he needs to be locked up in an asylum.

"Johnny, I'm going to ask this gently," Gaz begins. "Are you bloody mental?! Makin' up a story like this?"

"It's not!" Soap whines. "She's real! She told me I could check on him the next morning after he got shite-faced at the bar!"

"She give you a kiss on the cheek too?" Gaz mock-pouts at Soap.

"She better not have," Ghost growls.

All three heads turn to look at him in unison, the argument falling silent. "What?" Price and Gaz ask while Soap leaps out of his chair.

"I fucking-! I fucking told you so!" he stammers. "Tell 'em, Ghost!"

Ghost shakes his head. "Keepin' her safe, Johnny. Not that you'd understand that."

Part I

Tags: @xylov, @just-lilita

[rawme-price]

Constantly torn between Johnny smelling very nice bc he takes care of himself and his appearance (literally look at his hair.) Or johnny smelling very much like a guy™️ bc hes constantly working out or doing stuff and has no concept of cleanliness lol.

[gloomwitchwrites]

I dont remember seeing something like this, but how do you think the boys would react to their crush walking in on them jacking off?

Could be headcanons or a short fic/scenario idk have fun with this or just ignore it.

:P

Anon, I'm sure you probably thought this would be something cute, sweet, and fluffy...and I went and made it smutty. Won't lie, anon, my brain saw the way forward, and it was naughty. So...have fun! I know I did!

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

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: masturbation, mutual masturbation, cum swallowing, oral sex, hand jobs, piv sex, creampie, swearing, dirty talk

Word Count: 1.3k

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

John Price

Price is alone, which is why he feels safe in easing the tension.

A lone lamp on the corner of his desk illuminates just enough of the small office to see by. Price is slouched in his chair, legs spread and relaxed, the front of his pants open. He fists his cock, eyelids heavy as he replays the events of the day.

You’re a sweet thing, but off-limits to him. Every smile and playful wink send blood rushing to his dick. He can’t help himself. Price is enamored with you.

And because he’s lost in your image, too focused on imagining your pussy as his hand, Price doesn’t notice when you enter his office.

It’s the inhale that gives you away. A sharp surprise that has Price’s hand stilling.

Price coughs. Clears his throat. “Sorry. I didn’t—”

“Don’t,” you murmur, hand slightly raised.

Price freezes, his brain stuttering out as you gracefully glide across the floor, coming around the side of his desk. Your gaze lingers on his face before it drops to his groin. You lick your lips, and Price nearly groans at that hungry glint.

Slowly, you sink to your knees. “Keep going,” you say in that breathy tone.

This time, Price’s muscles melt, becoming putty, answering of their own accord. Holding your gaze, he strokes himself, a tightness forming at the base of his spine. When you lean forward, and present your open mouth, Price loses all control.

A few more strokes and ropes of cum hit your extended tongue. Your eyes shine with lust. The tip of your tongue curls to lick up the few remaining drops. Price decides right then. Before you leave, he’s taking you on the desk.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Keys in the deadbolt. Shopping bags in hand. You’re home a bit early, but that’s fine. Johnny, your roommate, shouldn’t be here. But as you enter the living room, everything freezes—grinds to a halt. Johnny is completely fucking naked, and he’s—

Johnny groans your name, head tilted back to rest on the lip of the sofa, his hand around his cock stroking rapidly. You nearly trip over your own feet as you stumble to a stop. The crinkle of the grocery bags fills the room, and Johnny bolts upright, standing quickly, alert and on edge, gaze darting everyone before landing on you.

“Fuck,” he says, just as you exclaim, “Oh my God.”

Every taut muscle is on display. Sure, you’ve eyed him a few times, but you’ve always kept your distance. Been respectful. But you’re salivating over this specimen before you, gaze falling to his erect penis that juts up toward the ceiling.

“Like what you see, lass?” he coos, and your pussy immediately clenches.

Your face grows hot. “I—”

“Put those bags down. Come here,” he says in that same, sultry timbre. Johnny fists the base of his cock.

You promptly drop the bags and take a step forward, unsure of why you’re complying except that your pussy is eager that you are.

“That’s it,” he praises as you draw close. “Stop right there.” You halt, gazing down at him as he spreads himself wide for your viewing pleasure. “Take it off.” Your workout clothes you went to the store in are gone in an instant. “Sit. Spread those legs for me.”

You sink down next to him on the sofa, leaning against the armrest as you open for him.

“Fucking hell, lass. I’ve been wanting to see you like this for ages.” You preen under that praise, wanting nothing more than to please him. “Play with your clit,” he instructs.

As you swirl a finger around that sensitive bud, Johnny starts to masturbate, his gaze locked onto your pussy. “Beautiful. Fucking perfect,” he murmurs.

The two of you move together, and when you dip one finger into your pussy, Johnny’s eyelids flutter, and the moan he releases his downright feral.

With his other hand, Johnny cups his balls, squeezing them slightly as he fucks up into his hand. Another thrust, and then ropes of cum spurt onto his chiseled stomach.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon pretends that it’s a mistake, that he didn’t plan for this to happen. But he’s a selfish bastard, and you’re the woman he’s been lusting after for months. He knew you’d walk in. Knew you’d join in if he remained confident and steadfast in his actions.

Now, here you are. Watching. Staring. Engrossed in the way Simon pleases himself.

“You want me, love? Because I want you,” he croons.

The sweetest thing about it is how you saunter over to him, nodding in eagerness, discarded your clothes like they burn your skin. No. Not a crush any longer. A lover. That’s what you are now, and Simon intends to keep you.

Simon continues to stroke himself, forcing you to stay on your knees—forcing you to watch as he brings himself closer to release. You lick your lips, admiring every stroke and touch, and that is enough to bring him closer.

“In my lap,” he growls, his voice throaty and gruff.

You staddle him, and then Simon is easing you down onto his cock. It won’t be long. Just a couple quick thrusts. And that is all it takes. Simon grips your hips, holding you down on him as he coats your pussy with his cum.

“That was for me,” he murmurs, lips brushing over yours. “Now it’s your turn.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle is naked from the waist down, his joggers bunched around his ankles, his hand fisting his cock. You’re enthralled by the sudden surprise of finding him this way. You knocked on his door, heard a grunt, and thought that meant you should come in.

Clearly, it wasn’t. Clearly, Kyle’s grunt was one of pleasure and not an invitation.

Even standing there as you are, you believe that you haven’t been noticed, that Kyle does not detect your presence. But the smallest gasp escapes you as a pearly bead of cum blooms in the slit, and a sharp desire to lick it up emerges forth without coaxing.

Kyle’s eyes snap open, his entire body tensing as the two of you lock gazes.

“Fuck,” he mutters, sitting up, glancing around like he’s not sure what to do next. “Sorry.”

“No,” you reply. “No. It’s fine, Kyle. I intruded.” Instead of reaching for his pants, he grabs the pillow, covering himself. “Don’t stop on my account.” The words fall from your lips easily.

Kyle glances up in surprise. “You…”

“I shouldn’t have said that,” you murmur, taking a step back.

“Wait,” and his voice is a sharp command. His gaze is serious. Pointed. “Come here.”

Liquid heat swells, urging you forward, urging you on until you’re standing directly in front of him. Kyle removes the pillow and you reach out, fisting his cock.

“Can I?” you ask, and Kyle nods with a groan.

You gently fist him, pumping slowly, watching in fascination as more precum emerges from the tip. Your head dips, tongue sliding over the slit. Kyle shudders, and your pussy grows wet. As your lips suction onto the head, you forget the earlier embarrassment. Taking more each time you come down, the room fills with the wet glide of your mouth around his cock and Kyle’s moans.

You’ve dreamed about this. Dreamed about him. And clearly, he has too, because Kyle is whispering your name, raining praises onto you that makes your cunt clench with anticipation. Another good suction and Kyle explodes down your throat, coating the inside of your mouth with cum.

You lick him clean, then wipe up the remains around the corner of your mouth with your thumb.

[daymactavish]

You are that dream that finally came true🍼🩵

Art By: Ivory Xantho 🤍

[guhbwuh2]

[devourrrmee]

warning — p links! dni if uncomfortable.

cod men (price, ghost, soap) x fem! reader

incl ⤷ size kink, spanking, squirting, hair pulling, choking, overstimulation, handcuffs/restraints, rough sex, face-sitting, oral, unprotected sex, threesome

⋆⑅˚₊ JOHN PRICE

— he just wants to hold you close

— you love when he’s got you pinned down

— taking advantage of the alone time when the team goes out drinking :3

— he has to test out the new panties he’s got you…make sure they’re durable.

— how could it ever be a quickie when he’s fucking you so good?

༻⋆SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

— simon’s obsession with overstimulation :3

— consequences of teasing him the wholeeeee night

— he needs to show you how much he missed you

— “handcuffs?”

— post gym-cardio

⋆˚꩜｡ JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

— he’d live between your thighs if he could

— soap gets too excited when he’s finally home from a mission

— soap is a simple man.

— always making a mess

— “dont run f’me, lassie.”

BONUS

roomates!ghost and soap help you get over your ex

[snakehairedwoman]

Every once in a while I remember he’s dead and every once in a while I grieve him

[baohanhanesel]

We'll see who eats who.

[lolplatzhalter]

Thought about Soap having a crush on Prices secretary. Way older than him but he doesn't give a shit.

He starts trying to win her over, and oh boy, he totally fails. He’s only used to flirting with younger or women his own age. First he accidentally makes her uncomfortable (he's ashamed about this) and then she's just confused like what is this 20 something boy talking about? Is he okay?

Gaz watches the whole spectacle from afar and cringes hard. He ends up coaching Johnny on how to deal with older women and charm them (he’s a natural—dated several women way older than him too).

It works. Somehow.

[soapysoapysoapysoapy]

Won’t Go Home Without You | Soap x Reader

The pub door slammed behind him, the bitter taste of whiskey still stinging his throat. The streets of London stretched dark and wet under yellow streetlights, but Johnny MacTavish barely noticed.

She left. She really left.

His boots hit the slick pavement hard as he paced the block, scanning every passing face, every car. He knew you’d walked out not ten minutes ago, your voice breaking as you told him you were finished, done trying, done waiting for him to figure out what he wanted.

But he knew. God, he knew the second the door shut behind you.

And now he couldn’t breathe.

Pulling his jacket tighter against the cold rain, Soap shoved his phone in his pocket without dialing. You wouldn’t pick up. Not tonight. Not after the way he’d snapped—after the careless words that cut deeper than a knife.

"You deserve someone who doesn’t live like this," he’d said. "Someone who’s not broken."

But you didn’t want someone perfect. You wanted him. Even broken. And he’d been too blind, too afraid to let you in.

Not tonight. Not like this.

He turned the corner toward the river, chest tight, every breath burning like guilt. There you were, standing under the flickering glow of a streetlamp, staring out at the water, hair clinging wet to your face, arms wrapped around yourself like armor.

“Lass.”

Your shoulders stiffened, but you didn’t turn.

“Don’t,” you warned, voice low and raw. “Don’t follow me. Just let it go, Johnny. Please.”

He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat choking him. “I can’t. I won’t.”

Silence. Except for the rain pattering on concrete.

“I said things I didn’t mean.” His voice was rough. Honest. “I thought pushing you away’d keep you safe. But all I did was lose you.”

You finally turned, eyes shining—not with rain. “I begged you to let me stay. You shoved me out.”

“I was wrong.” He stepped closer, slow and careful like you were glass. “I thought this job meant I’d never be good for anyone. But I’m worse without you. I can’t go back to that flat, that life... not if you’re not there. I won’t go home without you.”

The fight in your chest wavered. His hand reached for yours—hesitant, shaking like he never did on the field.

“Johnny—”

He gripped your hand tight, pressing your palm to his chest. “I’d crawl, I’d beg... hell, I’d bleed if you’d stay. I’ll do it right. I swear.”

The rain ran down both your faces like quiet tears. Your heart stuttered, cracking under the weight of him—all his regrets, laid bare and trembling.

“Take me home, then,” you whispered.

His breath hitched, a broken sound of relief as he pulled you close, rain and guilt and hope mixing between you.

“Never lettin’ you walk away again,” he murmured into your hair.

And he meant it.

[purphallowart]

Cod Character Eyes

[attheblackdog]

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish who is so possessive he locks his girl in chastity while he’s on deployment. That’s Johnny’s cunt and nobody gets to touch it not even his pretty little bird, not without his say so.

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish who comes home and his sweet girl is immediately on him, desperate and whining..

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish who can’t help teasing his girl, rubbing the back of his fingers against the metal covering her pink pussy in an imitation of what he’d do if she wasn’t covered by the belt

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish who’d chuckle and coo, ‘you poor thing. It’s been so long this time, hen’ as he’d kiss your covered clit. He’d lick and bite your thighs until he removed chastity.

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish who would hold his hand steady resting over your wet cunt and watch as you ground against him with your legs kicking, desperate for release after being denied for so long begging him as he laughed and refused to do more. You want to get off so bad, you do the work.

‘So wet already and i’m not even doing anything”

[deandoesthingstome]

Imagine Johnny is a dream walker.

He can insert himself into your mind while you sleep and share thoughts at varying levels of intensity depending on his intentions, but only if he has an intimate physical connection with you.

Imagine he's home on leave, fresh off a particularly harrowing tf141 mission, but too new into his situationship with Ghost to make it a thing. Not quite sure how to get Simon to let anyone else know; still uncertain how to make him believe it's meant to be.

Imagine he finds you at your lowest, but sees something in your jagged edges, something so broken and familiar. And he's drawn to it. Drawn to you. Props you up, embraces your pain, finds a way to soothe it. Through whispers in the night. Secrets woven into the fabric of your subconscious.

As his relationship with Ghost solidifies, his time on leave includes fewer and fewer meetings with you, but the time is always worth it. Imagine feeling refreshed and healed every morning despite the way he ravishes your body in the nights before.

Imagine knowing the moment he's gone. Feeling the filament of his bright light pop deep in your soul. It's sudden and disorienting, but nowhere near as unnerving as the moment you finally fall asleep after sobbing all your heartache away and find yourself dreaming of a man you've never met in your life.

You can't even see his shape, can't identify the form. But your subconscious knows him, knows everything about him. The mask. The scars. The pain. You can feel a shaky tether, not enough tension in the rope to draw him to you for real. But you wake knowing Johnny left him for you (and you for him) and you spend every evening muscling your way into the depths of the billions of miles of neurons in your mind to find the clues he left. A face. A name. Anything.

Imagine when you find it. The shock of awaking inside his dream giving way quickly to relief as you realize how you got there. Johhny blazed a trail for you, all those quiet secrets and whispered promises. You know he had to have done the same for Simon.

Imagine sensing his alarms going off; the way Ghost thrashes in his sleep, trying to rid his dreams of your intrusion. Imagine how he slowly calms as you call out to him silently from thousands of miles away. Recount stories only one other person should know to prove your worth to him.

The wet dreams are an added bonus. And they hold no candle to the reunion when Simon finally figures it all out for himself and finds you, the real you, knocking on your door and taking up where Johnny left off.

[ghostsoap-cod-fic-prompts]

Prompt #19

As a kid, Soap would doodle. His parents noticed how good he was and he was enthusiastic when they got him lessons. Eventually something happened, and while he still draws in his journal he doesn’t do much else after joining the military.

Once he joins the 141, Soap needs more of an outlet so he starts painting. Someone ends up seeing a few of his pieces and gives him a connection to someone who owns an art gallery. They end up getting on like a house on fire, and they love Soap��s work and put it up in the gallery and they end up agreeing to send people to Soap, where Soap starts to get commissions and offers for his work, but stays anonymous by only going through the friend who owns the art gallery. He ends up becoming a semi famous anonymous artist on the side of his career in the military/141.

None of the others of the 141 know about Soap’s art. Not until Ghost is visiting Glasgow one day during his leave, and he ends up going to this random art gallery he comes across and sees piece that reminds him of a place they recently went to for a mission, and notices that it’s signed by Johnny Riley that he is sure is Soap’s handwriting.

Ghost buys one of the ones by Johnny Riley and puts it in his apartment he barely uses. Eventually one day Soap visits. Soap nearly chokes on his own spit when he sees it. And Ghost confronts him about it and they confess their feelings for each other or something.

One day, when Soap feels confident in it, he invites the 141 to visit the art gallery and he shows them his work. GhostSoap are already together by that point, and the 141 absolutely tease him about the pseudonym choice.