#john cod

[druap]

happy valentines day :]

[aestheticanimegirl15]

You want to know someone who would be an absolute menace in the kitchen? No its not Johnny who always is sneaking palmfulls of flour to throw at you or leaving flour marks on your tits or ass. No, it's not Simon who is always hovering around you and manages to stand directly in the way of every counter or ingredient you need. Kyle is actually pretty helpful, handing you what you need or taste testing it in-between wandering touches.

It's Price. Not because of anything that he does but because of what he doesn't do. He just stands there watching every move you make with crossed arms as he smokes a cigar by the only open window in the kitchen. Needless to say, it's irritating. You always tell him that if he is gonna be in the kitchen, the lest he could do is help. But he never dose, he just stands there or sits down at the dining room table like some sort of king and just watches.

Not only does it irritate you, but it's the way that he looks at you that is the real menace of the whole situation. Staring at you like you are a better meal than the one you're preparing. He keeps raking his eyes over you in a way that makes you squirm because you know exactly what he's looking at. It makes you feel like some sort of meek housewife whose only purpose in life is to serve her husband. Which at times doesn't seem like such a bad idea, until it's like this.

The way he just watches you makes a heat bloom in your core, as another one blooms in your cheeks. It makes you squirm as you stir the sizzling vegetables in the cast iron, thighs pressing together underneath the (his) shirt you were wearing. He knows what he's doing too, wearing such a cocky smirk on his lips that makes you not able to decide if you want to smack him or kiss him. But he never acts on the way he's making you feel. Oh no, he waits until after the two of you are done eating.

He knows you won't fight it when he pulls you into his lap once you finish cleaning the table off. The bastard knows how worked up he made you from all his staring. He'll mumble something about desert, and if you actually made one, he'll shake his head

"Not the desert. I'm wanting, sweetheart." He'll reply, and then next thing you know he's got, you splayed out on the kitchen table with his head absolutely buried in your thighs. If it weren't for the fact you just fed him a full meal, you would have thought he was starving with the way he was devouring you, moaning and groaning like he was the one on the receiving end. Mumbling praises about both you and your cooking skills, no matter how good or bad they are. And he won't stop until your conculsing under him while stars dance across your vision. Then you hear the fumbling of a belt buckle and a scrape of a chair across the floor

"Now that I'm full, let's have some fun yea?"

So yea. Out of every one of them, he's the biggest menance, always making sure you're waking up the next day with a sore body and a limp.

[scoobywrites690]

Do you think you could add onto the peeping tom's scenario pretty please??? Like the rest of the 141 tf joining in 🥺

cw: oral (c) receiving, multiple men, penetration First part

The next time John fucks you in his office, you aren’t surprised when a pair of rough calloused hands that don’t below to John grab onto your tits. Hard and rough as they run over the delicate skin of your chest, leaving goosebumps as they travel.

The perky mounds of your nipples stand hard and pebbled as you puff out your chest, in hopes to receive the attention they so desperately want and need from the rugged Scotsman towering over you.

The flick of his fingers against your nipple has your body jolting in surprise, his fingers rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers pinching and tugging before letting go, to replace the roughness of his fingers with the warmth of his mouth, caressing the hardened peaks of your nipples with his tongue. Lapping around them in slow circles making sure to slobber all over them as he goes. 

The suck and flick of his tongue has you squirming underneath him, all whilst John continues to drill into your sopping cunt stretching your tight little hole out around his thick throbbing cock. With hands firmly placed on your hips he pulls you down onto his cock, balls slapping against your ass as he tugs you down over and over and over again to meet his brutal thrusts. His weeping tip kissing the entrance of your cervix with each pump of his hips.

Out of the corner of your eye you catch someone moving to stand next to you, before they’re reaching out to tug your face to the side. Dragging your eyes away from the scene in front of you to be met with the throbbing tip of another teammate, the salty taste of pre cum coats your lips as his hand grasps the back of your head, forcing his cock past the barrier of your lips straight into your awaiting mouth.

The stretch of your mouth around his size has your jaw aching as he forces himself down your throat, his tip kissing the back of your throat, making your choke around him. His piercing gaze holds your from behind his ski mask as you sputter and gag around him as he pulls your head up and down his length, from base to tip fucking your face with his cock as drool spills from the sides of your mouth dribbling down onto your chin. 

It's not until he pulls out that you’re able to take a full breath of air, rushing to fill your lungs as you struggle to catch your breath, but it’s short lived when your head is jerked to the other side and the dripping tip of the Scotsman is now bullying its way into your mouth. He’s not as long as the previous guy but he’s just as thick so even with your jaw slacked it’s still a stretch to fit him in there. Your tongue runs along the underneath of his heavy cock, thick and hard against your tongue as you run over every vein.

He pushes you down all the way to the hilt, shoving his cock down your throat and holding you there until you gag around him before pulling you off and turning you towards the waiting cock on the other side in one swift motion. Taking it in turns to stuff your mouth.

With John penetrating your tight cunt and your mouth being shared between two fat cocks you’re surprised you haven’t passed out. Your nerves are on the edge of overstimulation as you hurdle towards your approaching orgasm. But it’s the sudden warm wet mouth latching onto your clit that has your cunt clamping around John’s cock. You’re just able to see the short clipped hair of Gaz before your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. 

His tongue circles your clit, flicking the bundle of nerves before sucking it into his mouth. If your body wasn’t close to exploding earlier then it most definitely is now. Your legs shake and your body jerks as you cum around John’s cock, gushing around him as you continue to shake and twitch.

John soon follows, spurting thick ropes of cum deep inside of you making sure to keep himself plugged inside so nothing seeps out. Hot sticky cum soon coats your face as one finishes the other finishing inside your mouth, cumming deep down your throat making you swallow the lot. Gaz finishes last as he tugs desperately at his cock, the sight of you fucked senseless and covered in cum has him shooting all over your tits, covering them in sticky ropes of his cum.

Enjoy my lovelies <3

[op1umeyes]

corn maze + john price

synopsis - you go to a corn maze and get fucked by john

warnings - unprotected sex, pet names, ooc!john price

notes - trying to get back into the swing of things. who knows if this will last.

i need someone to match my freak. i need JOHN PRICE to match my freak guys.

like, i could definitely go for a quickie with him in a corn maze.

just think. its early in the season of fall- ordinarily too early for the pinterest couples and groups of friends to be swarming the corn maze and pumpkin patch. you sweet talked john into going and getting the first pick of the patch early on in the season because you knew you both may get called back to work.

you were both wearing jeans and boots- the wind had a slight nip to it now- and miraculously convinced your boyfriend to wear the deep red Henley that clung to his muscles so well. in return, he had picked out a blaringly bright orange sweater so you could ‘fit in with the pumpkins’ or some other bullshit that brought a smile to his face. 

john had let you lead him around the peacefully unpopulated grounds- purchasing apple cider and other odds and ends you saw fit. he knew that you just wanted one day to feel like a normal, regular, sane couple that didn’t have their hands soaked in blood every other day- literally or figuratively. and in all honesty, he didn’t mind letting you happily pull him along because the smile on your face was worth diamonds.

eventually, after you picked over all the shops and food stands, you stopped in front of the corn maze. “final stop, john. then you can take me home,” you mused, snuggling into his inhumanly warm side. 

your boyfriend hummed beside you. “finally,” he grumbled jokingly. The quiet chuckle he earned from his comment made his heart swell a little fuller. “alright, love. lead the way.”

Five minutes later, you had no clue where to go. Ironic, right? You cursed yourself- how could you not know how to escape some dumb corn maze?

Just as your feet started to ache, you lead the both of you into a corn with a couple hay bales in the corner. John followed you and chortled as you sat down on the bale. You could barely feel the pointy straw poking your ass. 

“Stupid maze,” you grumbled.

John’s eyes twinkled. “Let me eat you out, love.”

The casualness of his tone made your mouth open and close once. Twice. “John. My love. My heart. We’re in a corn maze right now.”

One step and he crouched doen to your eye level. The devilish smile that crinkled his eyes was softening your resolve and he knew it. “C’mon, love,” he cooed, brushing a lock of your frizzy hair from your eyes. “Just let me make you feel good, yeah?” 

Stupid man and stupid sexy voice, you thought spitefully, as John’s hands clasped around your waist. He slid his hands over the soft fabric covering your waist. As he leaned closer and pressed his lips to yours in an entoxicatingly slow kiss, he slid his large hands down to the meat of your thighs.

He drank in your moans, letting your hands latch onto the back of his neck. John parted your thighs with his hand. After breaking the kiss, he sank to his knees and tugged you forward before busying himself with undoing your belt buckle.

Waves of goosebumps picked at your skin. By the cold and by John’s skillful hands, tugging your pants and underwear sown far enough to feast his eyes (and eventually mouth) on your already soaked cunt.

Are you still with me here? Because I know John would eat you so good that your inner thighs would be bright red from the prickliness of his facial hair. But honestly, you didn’t care too much. Not after John forcing not one but two orgasms out of you.

Then he finally decided to lift you up and sit him on his cock. It was a miracle you were still concious enough to give him sass, saying “at least take me on a date first, John.” He had responded with a sharp thrust into your gushing pussy.

“You come on my tongue twice, and you’re the one giving me ?” John chides you, a roughness in his voice that made your pussy tighten. “Might want to watch your mouth, love.”

You stayed silent, letting him get used to the feel of you. Your body shivered and you wrapped your arms around John’s neck, voice breaking as you pleaded for him to ruin you: right here in a fucking corn maze.

“Please, John,” you moaned. He grabbed a handful of your ass and squeezed. your positioning was awkward but you knew John would take care of you. “I need it.”

Luckily for you, John didn’t feel like wasting any more time. He positioned his hands to be gripping your waist and started moving. Agonizingly slow, he lifted you up and down, John complied. Your breathless mewls were music to John’s ears as he slowly sped up his pace, fucking up into your core.

It didn’t take long for you to feel that white-hot ball of heat tensing up in your gut. This time, though, you were worried you’d cum too fast- too overstimulated from your previous orgasms.

“Fuuuck,” John groaned into your ear. “Squeezin’ me just right, love.”

John’s words sent a chill down your spine. You bit down on your hand until it bled. John’s speed only increased.

“I feel you clenchin’ around my cock, love,” John told you. The rasp in his voice only sent you closer to your high. “Takin’ me just right. Your pussy’s perfect, love. Like you’re made for me,” he rambled, fucking you so roughly you knew you’d have bruises.

You grip at his shirt helplessly as John repeatedly hits that spot inside of you that feels like heaven. “Christ, John,” you whimper out.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you? Like it when I tell you what a good girl y’are?”

Tears stream down your face and the coil in your gut is so hot, so alive, so ready. “I’m gonna- John- I’m… gonna-“

“Cum for me, darlin’,” John tells you, voice choked. “Cum on my cock.”

And Jesus Christ you do. You barely have time to slap a hand over your mouth before you cum. Salty tears drip down your face while you feel your thighs go lax as the coil snaps.

John’s warm cum spills into you as he pulls you down one final time and muffles his own groaning by shoving his face into your stupidly orange sweater.

It takes a full minute and a half for you to stop twitching in John’s arms. And even so, you can feel your breathing shudder ever so slightly.

“John?”

You feel rather than hear John’s rumble of a reply. Your hand cards through his hair and you attempt to calm your breathing.

“Are you ready?”

Another grumble.

So yeah. Also. I love him. I am a hot sexy loser. Goodnight everyone love you all im losing my sanity!

[grombs-blog]

Them <33 probably another that's going to stay a WIP :P

[loviejohnnydovie]

John Price x fem!Reader

Mdni

I know this has been said before but I need John to fuck me so good that I cry

He likes to fuck like this because it gives him a sense of control he has missed since he stopped working in the field and moved to a cushier job behind a desk and closer to retirement. He’s still fit, god is he fit, because working out is the only way to keep his mind occupied, at least until he’s at home with you.

He likes feeling in control over your body. Feeling the way that you trust him in your most vulnerable state. It makes his head rush and focus in the way it did on high stake missions. Only now it’s not life and death, it’s making his girl feel good. He knows you need it by the stress that rests on your shoulders and nestles its way into the space between your brows. It’s a ton of foreplay consisting of John doting and caring for you, in the way you deserve. He’s just so damn competent that it makes your head swirl.

Soon, he has you bent over, arms pulled behind your back, wrists held between one of his as he pounds himself into you over and over and over until you’re practically melting into the mattress. Once he has you nice and pliant, he slows his thrusts to reach around and pull your back against his chest, he can’t leave his girl in such a strenuous position for too long after all. His burly forearm spans your torso, right between your breasts, and his hand plants itself around your throat. Not quite squeezing, but still there, cradling your body against his. Your combined sweat clings to the hair on his chest as he gets back to work, fucking into you so hard and deep that all you can do it hold on to the arm wrapped around you and take it.

He talks you through it. About how good you're doing, how good you feel, how you can take everything he’s got and more, how he's so proud of you, how you can trust him and let go until finally the dam breaks free and you're shaking in his arms. The first time this happened, you felt embarrassed, but now you know he does this on purpose. He wants you crying on his cock so he can build you up and put you back together. Because he needs this just as much as you do.

You cry and he coos at you, all the while still fucking you through orgasm after orgasm. He comforts you, telling you to let it all out as you come for the nth time. Finally, he turns you around in his arms, your back finally meeting the plush mattress below. He holds you to his chest, letting you cry into his neck as he fucks one last orgasm out of you as you calm down. He kisses you despite the snot that is surely on your nose. He cups your face in his hands like you are the most precious thing on earth, because to him you are, and he gently wipes the tears from your cheeks as you both come down from your highs. He rasps out how well you did, how well you took him and what a good job you did opening up your body like that. Trusting him to take care of you and trusting yourself to let him. He holds you through it all, helps you drink some water to start replacing all the fluids you lost. It takes a while for both of you to come down from your emotional highs, but when you do it is pure comfort. He cleans both of you up without leaving your side, he prepares extensively when he plans on taking you apart like this, and he makes sure you feel cherished and loved. John always takes good care of his girl, especially if he has to fuck her so hard she cries.

[l-otti]

So hear me out on this! Boss! John Price manipulates you into a "win-win" situation

"You want the offer don't you, lamb? 'N I want that lil' cunt of yours, so why don't you bend over n I'll take care of you, alright? It's a win-win."

He gives you 3 days to consider, and when you do agree, you wear your prettiest sundress. He grins as he reaches for his belt

[ghostmoon1]

Cigarette proposal… how to win Price’s heart

Speed paint and image used below!

Found the image in Pinterest! Credit goes to owners

[inktailsaystuff]

Domestic Farm Fluff GhostSoap

TW: Use of Ghost and Soap’s real names, tooth rotting fluff, and my coping

-----------------------------

“L.T you awake?” His husband’s words filled his ears, the heavy Scottish accent lingering in the air.

“M’ not your lieutenant anymore Johnny.” Ghost mumbled sitting up in the bed, the weighted blanket felt nice as Ghost wrapped himself tighter in it. 

“Ah, yer righ’ but yer still mine.” Soap grinned, pressing a kiss to Ghost’s jaw. “Now come on we gots to work on our farm M'eudail.”

“Five more minutes luv.” Ghost’s heavy English accent thickened as he tried to keep his eyes open. However his husband had other ideas. “Oi-” Ghost grumbled as Soap flopped on top of him, the shorter man pressing kisses all over his face to wake him up. “Johnny stop.” Ghost growled as he tried to sleep.

“No can do Mo chridhe.” Soap chuckled. “Come on! We gots to go feed the hen’s and milk dem cows.”

“...Can you do that?” Ghost asked opening one eye to look at Soap.

“Simon, yer so lazy.” Soap grumbled trying to push his husband off the bed. “Come on yer lazy Gowk. Is yer turn to deal with roosters.” Soap grinned as he successfully managed to push Ghost off the bed, his husband landing on the wooden floor with a soft thud.

“Oh come on Johnny. Didn’ have to push me off the bed. Coulda just woke me up normally.” Ghost grumbled as he got up, his joints popping as he stretched. “You eaten already?” 

“Firs' already tried, yer didnt wan to wake up. Second yer trustin me to cook?” Soap grinned teasingly as he passed Ghost, one of his embroidered cloth face masks that just covered the bottom half of his face.

“...Never.” Ghost hummed as he looped the straps of his mask around his ears. “C’mon Johnny, I’ll go make breakfast.” Ghost decended the wooden stairacse down to the lower level of their farmhouse, the dark wooden walls comforting and warm, he loved this home, and not just because his husband also lived in it.

“Whatcha gonna make Simon?” Soap smiled as he followed after his husband watching as the larger man started to grab different ingredients. 

“Pancakes Johnny.” Ghost hummed as he poured the pancake mix onto a pan. “Sleep well?”

“Like a wee baby.” Soap chuckled as he rested his head in his hands, watching his husband cook. “Yer got a nice arse Simon.” Soap teased.

“Shut up Johnny.” Ghost looked over at Soap, “Or I’ll leave you without pancakes.” 

“Wait! M’ sorry Simon.” Soap made puppy eyes at him, pleadingly clinging to him. “Jus’ dont take away m’ pancakes.” 

“You know I can’t say no to you luv.” Ghost chuckled, lifting his mask to kiss Soap’s forehead.

“Ah know. An am gonna exploi’ it till death.” Soap grinned wrapping his arms around Ghost’s waist and clinging to the taller man as he watched Ghost flip pancakes. “Yer know a love yer right M'eudail?” Soap whispered as he pressed kisses to Ghost’s neck.

“I know Johnny. I know.” Ghost chuckled, wrapping an arm around Soap. 

“Good. I think yer should remember that Simon.” Soap smiled softly as he rested his head on Ghost's shoulder. The two happily staying in their kitchen as Ghost finished up the pancakes. 

Translations~ M'eudail- dear/darling Mo chridhe- my heart Gowk- Fool

[personwhowrites]

Task Force 141 with some of my Headcanons <3

Simon “Ghost” Riley

-He knows how to do any magic trick. He only learned them to feed his inner child, if he gets really drunk that’s when all hell breaks loose with his magic tricks. He doesn’t show them at workplace, well.. maybe sometimes he does only when you or Johnny are around to praise him. (He has that ego going)

-Finds it hard to believe that Johnny (soap) can’t cook. He things it’s strange that Johnny is a a 30-40y that can’t cook for shit.

-Hates hates coffee, it’s not because his British. He doesn’t like the taste of it, or the way it’s been made. Thinks is stupid that some beans can make a very powerful drink.

-Loves, and I mean loves when his teammates praise him. Especially you or Johnny, he doesn’t know why but it just fires him more. Even sometimes showing off, but of course he doesn’t admit it.

-When sparring with Rookies he tends to go overboard. For rep, he needs to keep that “scary” image of himself to the new people. Can’t blame him, he has a name to live up to.

-Big softie when his sick, he isn’t right state to know anything. He only whines to you or Price when his sick.

-Secretly puts stuff in high places where others can’t reach, so they depend on him. Doesn’t even know why he does it, but still enjoys every second of it.

-Let’s be honest, this man will never ever hurt someone when his mad. He can control his anger in any situation, unless the person is hurting some he cares about.

-Might get some slight disagreement here but Ghost will never ever open up about his trauma with anyone in the team. It’s his demon to deal with and that man will suffer in silence if it means his team can be happy and less worried about him. Even if you or someone else on the team try to get him to talk, it wont work.

-Big fan of Transformers, especially Optimus Prime. He feels a strong connection to the character, but keeps his obsession a secret.

-I sense that Ghost a man that has a very high tolerance to spice. I mean like high enough that concerns you at times when you see him eat the “one chip challenge” for a snack. He has packets in his vest.

-Ghost secretly has a pink gun. He only got it for laughs, but then immediately got attached to it. He was planning to show the team but stopped himself because it was his “gem.” (Has hello Kitty stickers tho)

John “Soap” Mactavish

-He can cook, better than the others. Yet he prefers to burn his food and get pity from you and the others. (You bring him lunch now.) he definitely brags about it to the others, and definitely knows that Ghost is catching up to his lie.

-Hates and I mean hates comedy movies. He finds them too dull and very predictable in his mind. Anytime you or the others members suggest a comedy movie.. a piece of him dies..

-Loves to be round Simon, wants to be the shoulder that Simon can depend on. He does feel some Jealousy when he only goes to Price or you when his sick. Makes Soap think that Ghost has favorites..

-Really really hates explosives, but acts like he doesn’t. The sound sometimes hurt his ears and at times soap fears that he would go deaf. Has mentioned this to Price, so when the others see explosives, Price will make a big deal and keep Soap away. (Such a caring father captain.)

-Soap definitely has favorites in the team, Ghost coming in first, then Price, Gaz and you. It’s not because he doesn’t like you, just that he been longer with the others. You do at times makes him question if he sees you a friend or more..

-loves to mess with everyone in the team. At times he does go overboard, making the team upset with him. Yet his golden retriever energy gets him out of any situation and he knows it.

-I see Soap having a short temper when it comes to someone messing with him. Soap doesn’t do anything at first, but then will go to see Ghost.. and let’s say those Rookies never were the same again.

-Depends on Ghost while in the British base. He knows that he really shouldn’t but Ghost became someone important even if Ghost pushes him away. I think it’s like this slight obsession he has..

-Super fan of old shows, like Friends, Sex in the city and The office, at times Soap would would try to recreate the office. Price would be annoyed when the others members agreed to it, he thought it was dumb at first but soon enjoyed it. That phase lasted three days before he moved onto something else.

-Soap is definitely sensitive to some sounds. Like a chair being dragged against the floor, it makes his teeth hurt. Price and the rest of the team know and will do anything to avoid that sound. They respect Soap and want him to feel safe with them.

John “Captain” Price

-He knows his the father of the group, and has accepted that. Except with you, he sees you more than a kid to take care of, sometimes jokes around that you’re the second parent.

-Price is the man to adopt any new rookie he sees. His seen like a major father figure in the base, no one disrespects him. Rest in peace to anyone who does..

-Loves to surprise his team with small gifts. He knows it’s not much but it’s glad he was able to bring a smile to everyone

-Price left his wife, I mean like divorce and cut all contact with the woman. He saw that his ex-wife never understood that the British forces were his calling. The wife wanted a family and for them to settle down, but price wanted more.

-Price tends to doze off if he’s sad. Soap and Ghost know this and make sure to be there for him. It’s difficult at times since Price acts a lot like Ghost with his feelings. His a book, a book you have to carefully open and set down.

-Talking about books, I want to say that Price hates them. I don’t see him as a reading a book in a day off. Being active is something he needs, it doesn’t matter what it is, his always hiking, exploring or testing new things. Makes Gaz join him, sometimes even showing up at his apartment with hiking gear.

-Definitely has a soft spot for Gaz out of the others. Gaz is close to your age, but slightly older and he knows it will be rough for him. Seeing the way sometimes, racism plays out in the base. Price makes sure that everyone must respect all races.

-Price will put his job on the line for the team. When Shepard was a “good” person and threatened to fire someone in his team.. Price would fight blood and sweat to keep that person. Even saying “Discharge me not them.”

-Price knows his growing old, his retirement is closing in. So he makes sure that his whole team can always depend on him even if it’s a day off. He will make sure you and the others know he loves y’all.

-Price will be someone to plan a whole day of activities if you or the team and him ever had a day off together. I mean a whole bunch, even ones taking you guys out to eat or go to an amusement park.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

-Let’s be honest, I see Kyle as a very quiet person. I don’t see him being a yelling type, unless it depended on someone life. When Price took him under his wind he was great full. Wanting to learn everything he could from him.

-As well with the others he has favorites. Price, You, Soap and Ghost. Him and Ghost barely talk, but respect each other more than anything. He didn’t mean to have favorites, but he saw the difference in how everyone talked to him.

-Super close with you, since it’s better to understand each other humor. Makes Price confused when you and him joke about something he don’t understand.

-Big fan of sweets, he can handle anything sweet. At any time he could have a candy in his mouth or a lollipop ready. He does hand candy out to the tema before the missions, finds it as a “good luck” charm to them. They don’t know that, but happily accept the candy.

-An amazing driver,better than anyone in the team. Main reason why he drives the team to places, Kyle doesn’t mind it if they ask to go far away places. It makes his mind calm, knowing that you all trust him with your lives in a car.

-Like Soap I feel like he can be sensitive to some sound. So he understands when Soap feels horrible with sound. They relate so much that it brought them closer.

-Kyle seems to be the type of guy that will listen to anyone. I mean anyone with their problems and help them sort them out. His mother taught him to be that way and he loves her for that.

-Like anyone on the team.. he would put his life on the line. Example: when he went back for Price when a ton of people were firing at him, he didn’t think he just went for it! This man deserves more attention.

-Kyle knows about some racism going on in the base and his thankful for Price protecting him. Even more thankful when he sees the rest stand up for him in a matter of seconds when they see the problem.

All

-Believe or not I think they would see the reader as a platonic love interest at first, but if things go closer than they think.. it might become interesting.

-They have cookouts I mean a ton, Ghost would be the one seasoning everything with the help of Soap. Gaz would be on the grill, cleaning it and making sure everything is good. Price would be there just watching them come together, if you were to join them. Price would let you do anything you want.

-They have game nights and it’s chaotic, I mean fully chaotic to the point you can’t understand anything. Soap would start speaking Scottish if he lost and Ghost would be the one calming him down.

-Movie night is a pain for Soap. He knows what everyone would pick.. romance comedy. Ghost wouldn’t budge to laugh at a single thing, But Gaz and Price would be laughing.

[druap]

Smoking, Johnny?

[soapysoapysoapysoapy]

taking one (& another & another & another) for the team | soap x reader x ghost | inspired by: @softaestluv johnny's pent up blurb

It started as a joke. "I'm gonna die if I don't get my cock wet soon," Johnny whined, sprawled backward over the couch, legs spread, hand draped over his forehead like he was seconds away from his last breath. *"Swear I can feel it in my fucking molars, mate. I'm gonna explode."

At first, you and the others ignored him. Typical Soap — loud, dramatic, a walking sexual frustration PSA. But it didn't stop. If anything, it got worse: every mission debrief, every meal, every late-night sit around the barracks, Johnny lamented his poor, poor cock like it was a national tragedy.

When he started describing how tragic his wanks were — "My hand's too fuckin' rough, not the same, need something wet, something tight—" — you snapped. Loud enough for everyone in the room to hear: "Christ, Soap, I'll fuckin' take one for the team if it'll shut you up."

Johnny sat up like you'd just offered him oxygen.

Which is how you found yourself bent over the nearest flat surface, jeans yanked halfway down your thighs, Johnny pressed tight to your back, rutting into you like a man possessed.

"Fuck—fuckin' hell, love, yer savin' my life," he groaned, hips slamming into you like he was trying to crawl inside. "Warm 'n tight, fuck, could stay here forever."

You barely bit back a moan, hands braced hard enough to hurt. You weren't supposed to enjoy this, just do your duty to the squad’s sanity.

But then Johnny started whining again — not his usual loudmouth bitching, but these needy, half-choked sounds against the back of your neck.

"Need ya," he rasped, like he couldn't help himself. "Need yer cunt, fuck, not gonna be enough, need it again—'m not done—"

Even after he came — hot, messy, filling you to the brim — he didn't stop. Still rocking against you, still murmuring desperate filth into your skin, already hardening inside you again.

You realized then: You hadn't fixed the problem. You'd made it worse.

He barely pulled out before he was pushing right back in, thick and slick with his own cum, grinding into your overstretched walls like he could merge the two of you if he tried hard enough.

"Fuckin' perfect," Johnny slurred against your neck, teeth scraping along your skin. "Mine now, y'know that? Filled you up good—fuckin' claimed you—"

You tried to push him off, half-hearted at best — muscles trembling, brain fogged from how full you felt — but Johnny just wrapped an arm around your middle and held you there, hips rolling slow and filthy, fucking his own mess deeper inside.

"Nuh-uh, love," he muttered, pressing kisses to your shoulder, messy and possessive. "Said I'd lose my mind if I didn’t get to fuck you. Y’think one load's enough to fix this? After all that sufferin’?"

You whimpered, feeling his cock twitch again, fully hard despite just cumming. He chuckled low against your skin, voice dark and wrecked.

"Told ya I'd go mad. Now yer stuck with me, sweetheart."

He fucked you slow the second time — not like the frantic, desperate slamming from before, but a grinding, possessive rhythm, like he had all the time in the world to ruin you properly. Every time you clenched around him, he gasped, praising you in that ruined, filthy brogue.

"That's it, good girl," he breathed. "Take it all, take it like y'made for it. Fuckin' born to milk my cock, huh? Gonna pump you so full you won't remember what it feels like to be empty."

You felt him bulge even thicker inside you, grinding down into your cervix, every thrust stretching you wider, making you feel owned in a way that had nothing to do with orders or duty.

Johnny growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your skin. You barely registered it before he was moving — hands gripping your hips, manhandling you onto your back like you weighed nothing.

"Wanna see," he panted, almost delirious. "Wanna see how fuckin' ruined you are for me."

Your legs were shoved open before you could think to protest, ankles tossed over his shoulders. Johnny leaned back just enough to look — and groaned, obscene and ragged.

"Fuckin' hell, look at that," he hissed, watching his cum leaking out of you, your cunt red and puffy, still clenching greedily around nothing. His cock throbbed in his hand, still wet, still ready.

"So messy, love. Drippin' for me already. Y'know what that means, don’t ya?"

You shook your head weakly, breath stuttering in your chest. Johnny just grinned, all teeth and danger.

"Means I’ve gotta fill you up again. 'Til you can't take any more."

Without warning, he lined himself up and pushed — forcing his cock back inside your sore, sloppy cunt in one thick, slow thrust. You cried out, back arching, and Johnny moaned like you were his whole damn salvation.

He didn’t give you a chance to breathe. Started fucking you immediately — deep, grinding strokes that had your whole body jolting with each brutal snap of his hips.

"That's it, that's it," he gasped, head tipping back, sweat dripping down his temple. "Take it all, pretty thing. Gonna make sure yer stuck full of me. Walkin' round leakin' my cum for days."

Your brain barely worked anymore. Just open-mouthed whimpers, toes curling, walls spasming around him like you wanted it — wanted everything he was giving you and more.

Johnny's pace turned frantic again, slamming into you harder, the sound of skin against skin filthy and wet between you.

"Belong to me now," he growled, words punching out of him with each thrust. "No one else. Fuckin' mine."

You couldn’t even pretend to fight it. Couldn’t think past the way he filled you so perfectly, the overwhelming heat, the way his cock dragged along every sensitive spot inside you until you felt tears spring to your eyes.

He buried himself to the hilt one final time, grinding down against you, hips jerking as he spilled deep again, thick and endless. You could feel it — the heat, the stretch, the way he pulsed inside you like he was branding you from the inside out.

Johnny didn’t pull out. Just collapsed over you, mouth hot and messy against your jaw, still twitching inside your wrecked cunt.

"Fuck," he whispered hoarsely. "Still not enough. Need you again, love. Gonna fill you 'til you’re round with me, swear it."

Johnny stayed buried in you for a long moment, hips grinding lazy, slow circles, as if trying to force every last drop even deeper. You could feel it leaking out around his cock — hot, sticky, obscene — and you whimpered, overstimulated and wrecked.

Johnny noticed immediately. Growled against your throat, feral.

"Leakin'," he muttered, almost offended. "Can't have that. Gotta keep it all in, love. Need you drippin’ full for me."

He finally, finally pulled out — and the flood of cum that gushed out made you sob, weak and broken. But Johnny didn’t give you a second to recover. He dropped between your legs, shoving two thick fingers inside you without warning, curling them deep and obscene, scooping the mess back up.

"No wastin' it," he rasped, fucking his cum right back into your cunt with slow, filthy thrusts. "Take it all, greedy girl. You fuckin' need it."

Your legs kicked weakly at the overstimulation, but Johnny just grinned — wild and unhinged — before spreading you wider, his thumb pressing down hard on your clit while he stuffed you full with his fingers.

"Gonna breed you proper," he whispered hoarsely. "Fill you so deep you’ll be round with me. Belly all heavy, stuffed full of my fuckin' load—"

You sobbed, hips rolling despite yourself, body desperate for more even as your mind shattered into static. You should have known it’d be like this — Johnny didn’t do anything by halves.

He leaned down, mouth dragging messy, possessive kisses along your trembling stomach like he could will it to swell.

"Mine," he murmured. "All fuckin' mine."

And that’s exactly when you heard the door creak open. You barely had the strength to lift your head, vision blurry — but you saw a tall shadow in the doorway.

Ghost.

He stood there, silent, unreadable behind his mask — just watching. Johnny didn't stop. Didn’t even slow down. He curled his fingers inside you again, making you cry out, making more of the mess spill down your thighs.

Ghost's head tilted slightly, almost curious.

"Problem?" Johnny barked over his shoulder, voice wrecked but cocky as hell. Like he wanted Ghost to see — to know.

Ghost said nothing. Just crossed his arms slowly over his broad chest.

Johnny smirked and turned his attention back to you, dragging his fingers out with a wet squelch just to stuff them right back in — slow and possessive.

"That's right," he said lowly, clearly for Ghost’s benefit now. "Had to take care of it myself. Filled her up so good she's fuckin' leaking. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?"

You whimpered in response — too broken, too full, too wrecked to argue.

Ghost watched you for a long, heavy moment — chest rising and falling — before he spoke, voice flat and unreadable: "You better clean up after yourself, Soap."

Then, calmly — without another word — Ghost shut the door behind him with a click.

Johnny barked out a wild, breathless laugh against your stomach. "Come to help, mate?" he panted, fingers still lazily dragging through the wrecked mess of your cunt. "Think she needs it. Poor thing's so fuckin' stuffed already, can't hold it all."

Ghost didn’t answer. Didn't need to.

He stalked closer, heavy boots thudding against the floor, until he was standing right at the edge of the bed — looming over your trembling body. You watched through blurred eyes as he popped the button on his cargo pants, dragging the zipper down slowly, deliberately.

Johnny shifted you slightly, spreading your legs even wider, thumbs digging bruises into your hips to keep you open — presenting you like a ruined offering.

"C'mon, Ghost," Johnny muttered, voice rough and wild. "Don't leave the girl waitin'. Look how pretty she is—drippin' fuckin' ready."

Still silent, Ghost wrapped a hand around the base of his cock — thick, flushed, already leaking — and lined himself up.

He didn’t ease in. Just pressed the fat head against your already-used, dripping hole and pushed.

You screamed, body arching off the bed, overwhelmed instantly by the stretch, the pressure, the unbearable fullness of taking another man inside you without even a second to adjust.

Ghost let out a low, broken sound, not quite a grunt, not quite a moan, and buried himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

"There we fuckin' go," Johnny whispered against your ear, laughing breathlessly. "Take him, love. Take us both."

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

Ghost fucked you without mercy — slow, devastating thrusts that forced Johnny’s mess and his own spit to spill down your thighs in filthy, wet streams. He said nothing — just breathing harshly through the fabric of his mask, hands brutal on your hips, using you like a living, breathing fucktoy.

Johnny kept whispering filth into your ear — encouragements, praises, commands — while Ghost destroyed you from the inside out.

"That's it, good girl," Johnny crooned, petting your hair while Ghost slammed into you. "Take it like you were fuckin' made for it."

You felt your mind fracturing — pure overstimulation, pure broken pleasure — as Ghost fucked you harder, grinding deep, his cock stretching you to the point of tears.

And then Johnny shifted again — ducking low between your legs to lick around where you were stuffed full, his tongue dragging over your overstretched rim every time Ghost pulled out just a fraction.

"Fuckin' hell," Johnny gasped, almost reverent. "Look at that, Ghost. Cunt's swallowin' you like she needs it."

Ghost let out another low, broken sound — and picked up the pace. The bed creaked violently under you, your body jolting with every brutal, punishing thrust.

You could feel it building — some dark, overwhelming climax you couldn’t fight — tightening low in your stomach, burning up your spine.

Ghost suddenly reached down and gripped your throat — not tight, just heavy, possessive — and that was it.

You shattered. Clamping down around him so hard Ghost actually groaned, thrusts going sloppy, brutal. And then you felt it — hot, thick, spilling deep inside you, Ghost’s cock pulsing violently, joining Johnny’s mess inside your ruined cunt.

You lay there twitching, barely conscious, as Ghost finally pulled out — slow, heavy — and watched as his cum immediately leaked out after him.

Johnny's hand was already there — catching it, stuffing it back inside you with lazy, satisfied fingers.

Ghost pulled his gloves back on silently, redressing with mechanical efficiency. Said nothing. Before he left, he pressed one gloved hand to your trembling thigh — firm, approving — and then disappeared out the door without a word.

Johnny leaned down over you, brushing your hair back from your sweaty forehead.

"Told ya, sweetheart," he whispered with a wicked grin. "Was gonna fill you proper."

And from the ache in your gut and the obscene mess between your thighs —you knew he wasn’t lying.

Morning hit like a slow, heavy sledgehammer.

You barely even remembered falling asleep — just flashes: Johnny fucking his cum deeper into you with lazy, loving thrusts while you sobbed into the sheets; Ghost’s heavy hand gripping your thigh one last time before disappearing without a word.

Now your entire body ached. Your thighs were sore, trembling even at the slightest twitch. Your pussy was a wreck — raw, swollen, still leaking a slow, lazy drip of milky white that soaked into the crumpled sheets beneath you.

You tried to shift — to roll onto your side — and whimpered immediately. Everything hurt. You could feel the mess drying on your skin, inside your cunt, coating your thighs.

And Johnny, of course, was already awake.

He lay stretched out beside you, arms tucked behind his head, a smug, satisfied smirk spread wide across his face.

"Mornin’, sunshine," he drawled, voice rough from use, eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. "Sleep well?"

You glared at him weakly, too exhausted to even muster words. Johnny just grinned wider.

"Y’look wrecked," he said cheerfully, reaching out to brush a lock of hair from your sweaty forehead. "Proper job, that."

You tried to move again — a pathetic, sluggish attempt — and Johnny laughed, full-bodied and warm.

"Aw, poor thing. Can’t even fuckin' walk, huh?"

His hand drifted down — over your collarbone, the bruises he’d left, the fingerprints, the possessive marks — until he palmed your lower belly, pressing down just slightly.

You gasped, muscles clenching reflexively around the lingering mess inside you.

Johnny's grin turned wolfish.

"Still full, are ya?" he murmured. "Good girl. Holdin’ it all for us."

He sat up slowly, bare chest gleaming with a faint sheen of sweat, and pulled back the sheets.

You whimpered as cool air brushed your ruined, sore cunt — thighs automatically trying to close, to hide yourself.

Johnny tsked softly, spreading you open with two rough hands like you were something precious to be displayed.

He hummed low in his throat — a sound of satisfaction.

"Ghost’ll be pleased," he muttered, almost to himself.

You blinked sluggishly at him, confused.

Johnny chuckled and gestured toward the nightstand. There — sitting neatly next to a bottle of water — was a simple piece of paper. No name. No explanation. Just three short words, written in Ghost’s heavy, blocky scrawl: “Hold it in.”

Your heart hammered painfully in your chest.

Johnny laughed again — delighted, wrecked — and leaned down to press a filthy, claiming kiss to the inside of your trembling thigh.

"Guess we’re not done after all, love," he whispered against your skin. "Orders are orders."

And from the wicked glint in his eye, you knew you weren’t getting a break anytime soon.

[cobaltbeam]

Normal conversations to have on the plane

I'm also doing more cod art on Patreon!

[robinisnotavailable]

TikTokers are such pussies when it comes to ships. “B-but they’re not canon 🥺🥺🥺😭😭😖😖” honey back in my day we shipped characters from entirely different medias uphill both ways in the snow

[grombs-blog]

Some doodles I did for @nightunite

They've already seen them but I wanted to share>:D

[shinoko-oshi]

Simon fixes your sleep schedule

Simon hadn’t realized just how fucked your sleep schedule was until he moved in with you. His birdie.

Waking up in the middle of the night or at the ass crack of dawn only to find you curled up on the couch, blanket wrapped around you, phone in hand, eyes barely open. Sometimes, you’d be watching a show, other times scrolling mindlessly, and on rare occasions, half-asleep but refusing to actually get up and go to bed.

And then, without fail, you’d spend the next day complaining about how tired you were. You’d drag yourself around the apartment, yawning every five minutes, rubbing at your eyes like a petulant child. And when he told you—plain and simple—that you needed to go to bed earlier, you had the nerve to roll your eyes at him.

“Okay, dad,” you’d say before walking away, completely ignoring his advice.

No amount of reasoning could convince you. If anything, the more he brought it up, the more stubborn you became.

So, Simon took matters into his own hands.

First, he switched out your usual tea for chamomile, hoping it would knock you out easier. Every night, he handed you your favorite mug, tea bag steeping inside, always a different flavor, something new to throw you off. Just in case you started getting suspicious.

You never noticed. Never questioned it. Just sipped at it, curled up in your blanket, completely oblivious.

Then came the melatonin sleep spray. He practically doused the corner of the couch where you always nested, soaking the blankets and pillows in the scent, ensuring that once you settled in, sleep would come whether you liked it or not.

And slowly, it started working.

You began dozing off earlier. The nights where he found you awake at ungodly hours became less frequent. You stopped yawning every other sentence. Stopped rubbing at your eyes like you were seconds away from passing out on your feet.

The dark circles under your eyes faded. Your complaints about exhaustion became fewer and farther between.

He never said anything about it. Never told you. Just watched in silent satisfaction as his plan worked.

But his favorite part? When you passed out on the couch instead of the bed.

Because that meant he got to pick you up, carry you to bed, and watch you sleep peacefully for a moment before pressing a kiss to your forehead and climbing in beside you.

It was selfish, really.

Because, sure, fixing your sleep schedule was technically for your health. But he couldn’t deny that he loved the way you curled into him when he slipped under the covers. The way you nuzzled into his chest, warm and pliant, letting out a soft sigh in your sleep as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer.

And, well better sleep also meant more cuddles.

And Simon loved that most of all.

Ik your sleep schedule is fucked. Go to bed.