your room is, tragically, right next to johnny’s. well, it’s more tragic for him, because after price has had a long night of paperwork, he decides to take it out on you. which in turn, leads to you screaming as your bed squeaks and groans under the weight of his thrusts. the walls are disgustingly thin, meaning that johnny can hear every
‘oh, john-! fuck, slow down— john, waitwaitwait it’s too much-‘ and ‘jesus christ, you’re so big- holy fuck john! ah- shit-‘
from you, leading to him fisting his cock as he bites his pillow. whether it be the religious guilt or something else, hearing you moan his catholic name is not doing wonders for his sleep.
so after john is done rearranging your insides and you’re lying on his chest— completely fucked out, johnny decides it’s his turn. unable to satisfy himself, you and john stare up at him as he appears in the doorway— hair tussled, clothes wrinkled, body tight with tension, john decides to give johnny a go at you.
leading to john’s cock stuffed down your throat, tears streaming down your face and eyes rolling back into your head as johnny plows into you, relentlessly railing and overstimulating you.
shame you can’t speak or moan their names. but at the same time, not really. john is a common name on base.
one bed trope w the 141 (except it’s not romantic)
price sleeps with his arms folded over his chest, hat tucked over his eyes. weirdly, it seems like he doesn’t move at all when he sleeps, and maybe you would think he was dead if not for the horrendous snoring he does.
ghost doesn’t sleep well, and he certainly doesn't like sharing beds with anyone. he’d rather sleep on the floor or just disappear for the night, coming back at the ass crack of dawn to stand ominously at your side of the bed with a cup of coffee for you.
gaz has a whole bedtime routine, especially when he has access to running water and a single person bathroom. finally gets to bed after an hour of skincare and hair care, but he smells so good you can almost forgive the fact that he almost pushed you off the bed in the middle of the night.
soap is a crazy sleeper, and that’s a fact. he’s all over the bed, one second he’s hugging you like some kind of oversized teddy bear and the next he’s somehow turned himself around and his feet are in your face. even worse, he snores almost as bad as price. no one wants to sleep with soap.
I had a sudden thought and since you're open to it, what do you think Soap would do if he saw reader or someone wearing a kilt and looking at Soap and just. "I got a new skirt." And he KNOWS it's not 'just' a skirt, not with the pattern or the material and and, hallo I'm excited don't mind me 😘
Soap is going to see this as a marriage proposal. You cannot change my mind.
written with gn!reader
Johnny’s lips are sealed. But it’s bloody fucking hard.
Do you know what you’ve done? Do you have any idea what this means? Maybe you do, and that’s why you’ve done it. Perhaps you’re ignorant, and this is a simple mistake, completely unknown to you.
But does Johnny care?
No. None of it matters. None of it is important. You’re wearing a kilt, all excited glee as you show it off. The colors have consumed him, hit him over the head like a sledgehammer. The colors. The fucking colors. They’re MacTavish colors. Not a stitch out of place. And as far as Johnny can tell, identical to the one he wears.
It’s a bad habit to assume.
But why else would you have done it?
You’re screaming at him. Waving the white flag. Inviting him to pursue.
“It’s nice,” he says.
“Like a true Scot,” he says.
But swirling in his mind is far more distracting. Of the two of you. Together. Married and happy and whole and—
Fuck.
Johnny smiles. Showers you with compliments. But beneath it all, he plans.
Pairing: Ghost x Reader, Price x Reader, Soap x Reader, Gaz x Reader
Summary: Your child gets in trouble
a/n: This one is a little different from my usual ones, but I just felt like writing for all four of them. I'm not sure how accurate you'll all find them as I've deliberately exaggerated them, but I do believe that Gaz is a sassy man after seeing how he didn't want to shake Graves' hand. I've also named the children of the TF141, I hope that's okay with you all.
Scenario:
The moment you both heard that your child got in trouble, the first thing you two did was rush into the principal's office in fear that something happened.
And now you were both sitting in the principal's office with your child, while another child was there with his parents.
Ghost:
Your eyes widened as you heard the principal say that Daisy and another girl in her class had gotten into a physical fight.
"There was also something your daughter said that is completely unacceptable," Mr. Smith said, looking disappointed at Daisy, even though the girl apparently started the fight and your daughter was just defending herself.
"It wasn't even that bad..." Daisy muttered underneath her breath as she crossed her arms.
Simon was very quiet, but his stoic expression spoke for itself.
"Daisy, I want you to quote what you said," Mr. Smith continued, not wanting to hear another word from her unless she quoted exactly what she said to the girl.
Your daughter looked at you, a pleading look on her face but you just shook your head at her in disappointment, wanting to hear what she said.
She sighed and quoted what she had said before, "You have a face that only a mother could love."
Without missing a single beat, Simon started wheezing in his seat the moment he heard his daughter's insult to the girl.
You glared at him, "Simon!"
Trying to calm down, he put his palm on his mouth as he continued, completely ignoring the angry looks of the principal and the other family.
"Mr. Riley, I want you to calm down. This is highly inappropriate," Mr. Smith said as Simon calmed down.
A few seconds of silence passed between you all before your beloved husband opened his mouth.
"Did you win?"
"Simon!?"
Price:
It felt like hours as the girl's parents and the girl herself ranted and raved about the fact that your daughter Sophie punched her.
At first you had both been shocked, completely angry at your daughter until the parents opened their mouths to speak.
You almost fell asleep listening to the mother go on and on about how her daughter's nose was bleeding because of Sophie.
Price, on the other hand, sat still in his seat, listening to the whole thing, not having said a word since he walked into the principal's office.
"Your daughter should be suspended!" The father said, glaring at Sophie.
Mr. Smith didn't even get a single chance to say anything, as they continued.
Slowly, Price seemed to lose his patience and turned his head towards you and your daughter.
He whispered, "Punch her harder next time."
"What?" The principal asks.
"Nothing."
Price says as Sophie giggles at her dad.
You tried to stifle your grin by putting a hand over your mouth, just hoping that the parents would shut up soon.
Soap:
Your son sat between the two of you, his nose bleeding and his face bruised as he frowned at the boy and his parents.
You were extremely worried as you put a hand on your son, Callum's arm, and quietly asked him if he was hurt anywhere else.
Callum just shook his head, not wanting to speak while Soap was already getting bored listening to all of the talking the principal was doing.
"It doesn't matter if he started insulting him because Callum was the one who got violent," Mr. Smith said as you tried to defend your son.
The boy obviously looked much worse than Callum. His hair was disheveled and his face was bruised. His nose was also bleeding, as was his lower lip.
It looked like your son had done some damage.
"What exactly did he do?" Soap asked, wanting to know exactly how Callum had hit the boy.
As Mr. Smith explained what your son had done, Soap's eyes lit up and a smile appeared on his face.
"I'm so proud of you, you used the punch I taught you," Soap said, extremely pleased that Callum had listened and actually used the things he had taught him.
Callum grinned at his dad's antics as you put your face in your hands, sighing and muttering "Why did I marry this idiot..."
Gaz:
You were shocked to hear what your son, Ethan, had done to the boy.
Mr. Smith was obviously upset and angry that Ethan had acted so childishly, and immediately got into a physical fight the moment the boy wouldn't stop insulting him.
You felt the headache already pounding in your head as you rubbed your temple, completely out of it.
Ethan didn't really say anything, he just listened to everything that was said.
The boy's parents glared at the three of you, never once looking away.
The boy that insulted your son, looked angry, obviously still being pissed at the fact that Ethan punched him, even though he himself started with the insults.
Gaz was not even shocked, sitting there with his hand holding up his head up as he looked extremely uninterested in the principal's endless speech.
Rolling his eyes, Gaz moved closer to you and Ethan as he whispered.
"Did you break any of his bones?"
"No."
"Good, because I'm not paying anything in this economy."
The way Soap would use military talk to get a reaction from you. He knows you're into it. So you're standing in the kitchen, maybe cooking something and you can hear his raspy voice from behind the corner "Got visuals on the target" and you're already grinning, wisely putting down anything that could make a mess. You hear slight shuffling and a whispered "Nice and stealthy boys", the next thing you know is him tackling you and immediately catching you in his arms, carefully lowering you to the floor. He crawls over you rasping: "Hostage secured", and presses his lips to yours but you both have to laugh. And it ends up being a messy kiss because you both can't stop giggling and grinning into the kiss. And when he breaks away because you're both smiling so wide it's just impossible to properly kiss, you put your hand on his chest and tell him: "You're a goof MacTavish". His smile softens and he replies: "Aye, your goof, that is."
All I have in my mind is helping Johnny or any of the boys (or all of them..) piss by holding his dick. Take that idea and fucking run with it please because my brain can’t come up with anything better to think bout.
Johnny Mactavish x gn!reader, off-screen injury, handjob, piss play, sub!johnny vibes
You stumble sleepily after Johnny down the dim hallway. He'd tried to be quiet, not wake you up, but you couldn't sleep through his shifting and groaning.
"It's fine, go back to bed," he hisses at you when you bump the door open behind him. You just yawn and flap your hand.
"S'fine, baby, whaddyou need," you slur, and wrap your arms around him from behind, nose buried up against his spine. "Pee?"
You can feel the flush crawling down the back of his neck. Poor baby, one bad bomb disposal and his hands were wrapped fingertip to forearm in bandages, stiff and uncooperative.
You kiss idly against his shoulders, sleepily finding all the freckles, as you untie his sleeping pants. Easy enough, you can help him aim it- but when you slip your hand down his pants, you find not a soft cock but one thats firm and chubbed up, hot under your fingers.
Johnny's breath hitches, and you soothe him with more kisses, cupping his dick in your hand, slowly stroking it. Poor baby, can't get off without help. "S'alright baby. Lemme help you," and you tug his pants down his thighs, cupping his balls in one hand as the other slowly strokes.
He's all warm and shivery, hips pumping forward into your fingers, clearly ready to blow rather than draw it out. Fair enough, and you tighten your grip. "Spit," you tell him, and he drools saliva down onto his cock for you.
He's breathing hard, leaning forward to brace his forearms against the wall, when you start stroking him faster. His cock is thick and hard in your hand, foreskin slipping easily over the plump head, and Johnny whines and bucks his hips as he comes. You suck a hickey into his shoulder blade, angling his cock down so the ropes of come splash into the toilet.
He sighs in relief, panting a little, and you feel him tug back a bit, trying to pull his cock free- done now, right?
You keep a tight hold on his cock, still aiming it down, and get a soft, shaky moan when Johnny realizes what you're wanting.
He pisses in little spurts to start with, still half hard, before he lets go fully, emptying his bladder. He's whining with it more than he had for his orgasm, cock all soft and tender now in your hand, sweat popping up along his spine. You stroke him a little, making the piss splash, a few droplets clinging to your fingers when you toy with the head of his cock- he moans, pushing back against you, and you get a little spurt of precome out with the last of his piss as well.
You shake him off, tucking him back into his pants, and gently spin Johnny around, kissing his heaving chest, and then his soft lips. "Love you," you whisper, and he licks into your mouth, hands held away from your body. You indulge him for a few minutes, before urging him back to bed- he needs rest if he's going to heal.
Johnny's tucked in, eyes already slipping closed as you fold the blanket over his chest, prop his hands up on a pillow. Poor baby, you think, and curl back up next to him. The wet heat between your own thighs will wait until morning- you plan on having Johnny get his breakfast kneeling.
I’ve been toying with the lovely idea that the 141 boys have their own Penelope Garcia (from Criminal Minds) who is just their little ray of light, just so cute 🥰
!!gn!reader!! — can be read as platonic or romantic
Whilst sitting at your desk of your many monitors, your radio began to pick up chatter which meant the team was trying to make contact. You immediately pick up your headphones and angle your microphone, hearing the last of Price’s sentence. “—ending you a file now.”
You hum into the microphone and scoot your chair towards one of your many keyboards. “Only caught the last part, Cap’. A file you said?” You ask, typing up a password before a chat log opens up. “Yes, we need you to look into the source code, lookin’ for anythin’ that makes sense, love.”
You quickly receive a file and run it through a scanner app you developed yourself as well as a decryption app in case it was protected with extra measures. “Mm, I love hide and go seek. Running it through now, sir.” You respond with an obvious grin in your voice. You hear Soap laugh through the radio. “Let us hear it when it’s done, aye?”
Your lips twitch from his voice, your eyes glued to a screen as you twiddle with a pen. “Anything for you, Suds.” Which earns you a belly laugh from the man and a groan from Price. Your screen pops up a couple of images as it popped through the encryption. “Mm, alright searching now….” A few more seconds before another window pops up. “Santa Fe,” You call out. “Only one that scans like an actual word.”
“Thanks, sweetheart.” You hear Ghost rumble, and you can’t resist the shit eating grin. “Do I get a reward?” You can’t resist making the joke, popping a candy into your mouth from a bowl on your desk. “When we get back, I’ll buy ya dinner.” Gaz offers, making you clutch your chest and playfully groan. “My dream man! Safe travels, yeah?”
contains: smut, gn!dom!reader x sub!johnny x sub!ghost, orgasm delay/denial, punishment, bondage (rope), nipple clamps, toys under clothing, semi-public
this work is part of a small “kinktober” thing - i sadly don’t have the time to write a lot, so instead of posting something for each day in october, i decided to try to post something on each sunday in october. here’s the first part!!
word count: ~1100
The next time you tease both your boys, it’s induced by Johnny.
On a cold Wednesday morning - Simon and Johnny are still on leave, you’ve got the day off work too - Simon wakes up to a strangled moan, mixed with a weird sensation against his thigh.
It doesn’t take longer than a second for him to recognise what’s happening - Johnny is humping against his thigh, cock catching against Simon’s boxers as it weeps, staining the fabric.
Johnny sighs and whines with every thrust, his body shaking. It’s been three days since you’ve denied them an orgasm, and Johnny, ever the needy brat, refuses to accept that.
So, waking up to you gone, presumably having left to buy some breakfast for the three of you, Johnny decides to grab the moment by its balls, having relieved himself of his clothes and now humping against Simon.
Could he have also just quickly stroked his cock, hidden away in the bathroom, to only be found guilty by the next session since he’s so bad at pretending to be desperate to cum when he really isn’t?
Sure, but Johnny is determined to drag Simon down with him. The blond bastard had it coming, he decides - boyfriend or not, Simon’s determination to be obedient is getting on his nerves.
Besides, the idea of corrupting the man into disobedience, breaking Simon’s perfect record, is very appealing.
And, - Johnny can only guess that it’s because the man is still half asleep - Simon takes the fucking bait, chomps down on it before he can realise that he’s become a fish on a hook.
“Johnny, wha’-“ he stutters out, “master told us not ta-“
And Simon reaches down, his calloused hand closing around Johnny’s weeping cock, clutching his base. Of course, he’s attempting to shove Johnny off, to make him behave by roughly tugging on his sensitive cock - Simon doesn’t want to be involved with Johnny’s disobedience.
Unfortunately for Simon, he choose the worst fucking moment to hold onto Johnny.
Unfortunately for Simon, it looks like he’s touching Johnny, giving him a handjob.
Unfortunately for Simon, you walk in at this very moment.
You almost drop the tray of breakfast you were holding, setting it down on the nightstand as you calmly walk towards your boys.
Your expression has immediately turned sour - from happy and kind to cold and mean. Johnny whimpers, but he can’t help his smirk - his eyes are betraying his excitement as he notices your disapproving glance at Simon’s hand wrapped around his cock. Simon has frozen in place, big brown eyes wide and glistening as he swallows, speechless for a second.
You sit down on the bed and look at your watch.
“You have a minute to explain yourselves.”
“I-I didn’t t-touch Johnny. ‘was only shoving him off, he was trying to hump me and I-,” Simon stutters, “I wasn’t bad, master, I wasn’t, I swear, please-“
Johnny interrupts his boyfriend’s babbling and - with a surprising gentleness - takes Simon’s hand off of his cock. Simon whines as he only realises just now that he was still holding onto his dick, which he knows looks bad. Very bad.
“Simon was touchin’ on me, master, he got my dick out n’ everything, ” Johnny lies, voice confident, “he’s a fuckin‘ brat.“
“‘m not, ‘m not, he’s lying, he’s lying-“ the panicked tone in Simon’s voice is heartbreaking, he looks like he’s about to cry. “Please master, don’t believ’ ‘im, he’s lying, I only wanted to shov’ ‘im off of me, I promise, master, p-please…”
You clap your hands, indicating that the minute is over.
“Alright. I’ve heard enough.”
Simon whines and slumps his shoulders, hiding beneath the blankets.
“I’ll punish you later,” you say, “my boys need some breakfast now.”
+🎃+
Johnny squeezes his boyfriend's hand as they huddle closer - he’s desperate to hide his whimpers and whines. Once again, you’ve used his sensitivity against him. There’s a vibrating ring nosing his dick, and it’s hell.
The vibrations keep him even more horny than he’s usually is, and the ring keeps him from cumming. Johnny’s walking slowly. If he moved too quickly, he’d rub the fabric of his boxers right against his leaky tip, and he’s already noisy enough.
The park you’re taking a stroll through is calm and empty, the cold october night illuminated by the street lamps, the (barely visible, light pollution and all that) stars and almost full moon. Under normal circumstances, Johnny would appreciate the scenery, but with a constant stimulus vibrating away at his cock - not a chance.
Then again, as he glances over at Simon, he wonders if he got the lesser of the punishment.
Simon is wearing the black surgical mask that he usually wears when going outside, and his hood is up, but the tears in his brown eyes tell of his distress.
The hoodie that he’s wearing, as well as the jacket, is some of the baggiest clothing that he owns, and Johnny well knows why.
Beneath all of his clothes, - of course, without intercepting his arms and legs - Simon is bound in tight rope. A beautiful pink, thin rope is artfully woven across his skin, teasing his sensitive nipples and his aching cock.
His hands are in his hoodie pocket, and they’re also tied together, albeit with a different rope.
Simon has always been susceptible to rope, the tight, woven restraints always signalling comfort, and to his dismay, arousal.
Johnny can imagine what it’s like - each step, no matter how slowly he’s walking - is tightly interlaced with the sensation of rope tugging on him, a constant reminder of the rope that’s both a thing to hold him together, and a thing that keeps him restrained.
Johnny knows that the rope alone is enough to turn Simon’s brain to mush. Too bad for him, because there’s not only rope on Si - you’ve used rough metal clamps on his nipples, a delicate weight hanging on both. Everytime he moves, the ropes running across his pecs tease the sensitive flesh, and Johnny knows that he’d long have started crying if he was the one in Simon’s shoes.
Luckily, he isn’t, because he knows that he would scream as you place a hand on Simon’s neck and tug at the ropes, rubbing against the clamps.
“Please, please, ahhh- master-“
Simon shudders and sobs, his body trembling as a few tears escape.
“Aww, baby, what's the matter?”
Simon hiccups and nuzzles against your shoulder as soon as you let go. Squeezing yourself between both boys, you place your hands on their necks.
