Prompt: Sucking Soap under the Desk while he talks with someone
part two
You and Johnny had been dancing around each other from the moment you were pulled onto Task Force 141. It started as casual flirting, playful jabs, lingering glances, but it didn’t take long before Johnny was downright pining. Clingy, persistent, like some loyal mongrel that decided you were his and no one else's.
You made him work for it, teased him, made him squirm a little, and if you were being honest, you loved how fucking easy he was to rile up.
And maybe, deep down, you liked the idea of taming the Task Force’s wildest dog.
Now, months later, Johnny was yours, and it showed. Bite marks littered your thighs, your hips, the crook of your neck. He could be feral, needy, like he was trying to crawl inside your skin just to be closer to you. But when you wanted him soft and pliant, moaning for you? He melted like putty in your hands.
Case in point: right now, with you on your knees under his desk, his cock stuffed halfway down your throat.
It had started innocently enough. A few hours of boring paperwork together, holed up in an unused office, laughing and complaining under your breath. Johnny had been twitchy all day, tapping his foot, shifting in his chair, glancing at you with that heated, reckless look he got when he was trying so hard to behave.
You teased him under the desk, sliding your foot up his calf, running your fingers across his thigh. It didn’t take much for Johnny to crack, he never could tell you no, not when you got that look in your eye. Soon enough, you were kneeling between his legs, pants shoved down just enough for you to pull him free, thick and flushed in your hand.
His hand tangled in your hair, gently at first, a soft, grounding touch as you licked the head, tasted the salty precum beading there. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking slow and deep, taking him halfway before pulling off to kiss down his shaft, mouthing at the sensitive skin. Johnny was already panting, hips jerking up into your mouth, so desperate, so fucking needy.
And then: the door swung open.
"Johnny," came Price’s voice, casual, as if he hadn’t just walked into an impending trainwreck.
You froze, blinking up at Johnny, and the look on his face nearly made you giggle. Panic, arousal, guilt, all flashing across his flushed features in the span of a second.
Price, thankfully, hadn't looked down yet. He was too busy flipping through a file in his hands, muttering about mission reports. Johnny gave you a look, wide-eyed, pleading, and you just smirked and slowly, slowly took him back into your mouth.
Johnny bit down hard on his lip, stifling the low, broken sound that tried to escape.
"You get those forms submitted yet?" Price asked, stepping closer to the desk. He still hadn’t noticed you, your body tucked carefully under the wide oak desk, hidden by a hanging panel.
Johnny swallowed audibly, clearing his throat.
"Uh— workin' on it, Cap," he said, voice a little too high.
You hummed around his cock, sending a vibration through him that made his thighs twitch under your palms. You pressed harder against him, your nails digging lightly into his skin, urging him not to fucking move.
Price dropped the file on the desk with a loud thud.
"You’re fallin' behind, MacTavish," he said, a teasing lilt to his voice.
"You've been distracted lately. Everything alright?"
You pulled back just enough to swirl your tongue around the head, hollowed your cheeks, then swallowed him down to the base again. Johnny’s hips bucked, and you squeezed his thigh hard in warning.
"Aye," Johnny rasped, gripping the edge of the desk so tight his knuckles went white. "Just, uh, a lot on my plate."
Price gave a noncommittal grunt.
"You need help, you ask for it," he said. "Don’t need you drowning in paperwork before a big op."
Johnny nodded stiffly. He wasn’t hearing a word of it, not when your mouth was heaven around him, your tongue teasing along the vein on the underside of his cock, your hand working what your mouth couldn’t reach.
You peeked up at him through your lashes, loving the way his chest heaved, the way his pupils were blown wide with lust and panic.
Price checked his watch, muttering something about checking in with Laswell, and turned to leave.
You took that moment to suck him down hard, and Johnny’s breath hitched audibly, a broken little whimper he barely managed to muffle into a cough.
"You good, MacTavish?" Price said, pausing at the door.
Johnny nodded furiously, voice strained.
"Peachy, sir."
Price eyed him suspiciously but finally left, the door clicking shut behind him.
The second you were alone, Johnny slumped in his chair, releasing a ragged, wrecked moan.
"Fuckin' hell, love," he gasped, threading both hands into your hair now, no longer gentle, desperately guiding your head as he thrust up shallowly into your mouth.
You let him. Let him fuck your mouth with short, stuttering little movements, every muscle in his thighs quivering under your touch.
"You're— fuck, you're evil," he choked out, voice cracking. "Nearly made me— fuckin'— come while Price was right there."
You pulled off just enough to pant against the head of his cock, stroking him with your hand.
"Maybe that's what you needed," you whispered, voice thick with arousal. "Somebody to catch you being the desperate little thing you are."
Johnny whimpered, full-on now, shameless. No front, no bravado, just Johnny, wrecked and needy, yours.
You took him back in, messy and hungry now, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth as you worked him with your lips and tongue, relentless.
It didn’t take long. He was already so close, so wound tight from holding back.
"Fuck— fuck— comin', love, I'm—"
You moaned around him, encouraging, and Johnny spilled down your throat with a desperate, broken cry. Hot and thick, salty on your tongue, and you swallowed every drop, not stopping until he was twitching and gasping above you. When you finally pulled off, Johnny slumped back in his chair, flushed to his ears, eyes glassy and dazed.
You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, smirking.
Johnny reached for you blindly, dragging you up into his lap, burying his face against your neck with a wrecked little groan.
"You're fuckin' evil," he murmured again, voice muffled.
You just laughed, threading your fingers through his hair.
I don’t know if you’ve seen this type of video on, like, Instagram or something
but the trend of your significant other faking you out with a kiss to grab/eat your food, only for you to open their mouth, steal it back, and eat it? I feel like Johnny would like that way too much. like, you’re comfortable enough to just eat something that he put in his mouth? grabbed it out no less like he’s a dog that got into something he wasn’t supposed to have?
I’m just saying (also, the mental image is funny to me)
oh mach- don't put your brain worms into my brain!!!!
he definitely saw that and knew he just had to try it!! he just had to see your reaction, to see you look shocked and pout while he chows down half your cereal bar but nonononono. no. he pulls that shit on you and grins mischievously, looking back at your shocked expression and wiggling his eyebrows at you - but before he can even start chewing you're already going at him, one hand on his strong jaw, prying it open, while the other hand is forcing itself into his mouth. he's in absolutely shock, trying to fight back whilee not biting your fingers off. he's so caught off guard when your fingers push past his teeth and grab the food, stuffing it in your mouth as you keep laughing, without a second thought.
but god, he's having second thoughts about it. something about marrying you on the spot, something about you just prying his jaw open like he's seen you do with your dogs, and you just.. eating it. straight from his mouth. he's not sure he ever wanted to kiss anyone this much.
I can guarantee you two things: he's hard as a rock and he'll watch the video back later to get off.
I kinda wrote the first version of this for @morphoportis and it inspired this one, so I might as well post this in public. Should I use a title? I am still figuring things out.
Summary: afab!Reader is for the TF 141 what Pepper is for the Avengers but there is more and Bucky learns a new thing about himself.
My good Boys
Bucky struggles a bit, trying to find his (although temporary) place in the 141 team dynamic. Since they are waiting for intel, there is not much to do, other than training, relaxing for a day. He is not really used to free time, wary of the carefree attitude Soap and Gaz are showing, but they remind him of Clint and Tony. Ghost seems to get it, joining him at the table, cleaning their knives in silence.
They are family in a similar yet different way the avengers are. Secretly he thinks Steve could learn from Price about leadership but he immediately feels a bit guilty about that thought.
And then there is you. You shouldn't be here. You are too soft for this place, too precious to be around these dangerous men. If you were his (you are not, you are theirs, never forget that, it is not his place to judge), he would make sure you are safe, even from himself. Especially from himself.
But you don't seem to realise that you are surrounded by weapons in human form. You had explained it to Bucky in words that almost make sense.
"You know how Tony Stark could do all these stunts because he has Pepper Pots, yes? Nobody really wants to admit it, but without her, he would be buried in paperwork, meetings, everything. No PA I have heard of can do what she does, she is a genius and instead of following a career of her own, she dedicated her life and brain to the man she loves and the family around him, the avengers. I am their Pepper. Well, I try to be. I mean... I do what I can to make their work easier. I know, that I am no use in battle, but I have contacts, I am good at seeing patterns and I know what they need and I can make sure they get it. I am their lifeline, if needed. And just to make it perfectly clear, as long as you work with them, all of that's includes you." You had giggled and added: "For the time being, you are mine, Sgt. Barnes"
Something settled inside of him. You are mine.
The part of him, that was once The Winter Soldier recognised the meaning behind these words. It was simple. As long as he was here, he belonged to you. To this little pack.
A commotion from the sofa put a stop to his thoughts.
"Johnny MacTavish, you did not just jump my leg like a fucking mutt!" Your voice sounds more annoyed than angry, still everyone in the room is suddenly looking towards Soap, who has the decency of putting on an apologetic smile. "A joke, please forgive me. You know I am.stupid around you sometimes.."
"Sometimes?" Ghost mutters and Bucky is wondering if something like this is a usual occurrence. He never noticed anything so far.
"Oh yes, I know. And I was thinking about rewarding you with a treat tonight, because I know you really behaved like a good boy so far." The expressions on Soaps face changed rapidly from hopeful to realisation.
"So far? Don't joke like that, bonnie, I beg you."
Bucky froze. There was something in your voice, a new quality, like the promise of a command. And watching Soap slowly sinking down on his knees, shoulders straight, hands behind his back, made The Winter Soldier curious and calm at the same time. He didn't even notice that Gaz had left for a moment and now came back with a small box, placing it into your waiting hands.
"There is my good boy. I am so happy, you remember the rules now. I know it has been hard for you, having someone here, in your safe space, that you don't know yet. But we talked about it and you agreed, that we all behave until we know him better, yes?" Your voice is so soft yet stern, understanding, yet disappointed. Soap stays silent, except for a small whine. The Winter Soldier couldn't move, no, he didn't want to move. He had never before heard such a soft command between the words. Making him wish to obey, not forcing. Making him wish you were talking to him, not to the Sargent. He follows the movement of your hands, opening the box and taking out a metal chain, with a small golden ring in the front and a lock in the back. You smile as you turn your head and look Bucky directly in the eyes. "Sorry, this must be a bit confusing. I will answer any questions you might have later. But if you feel uncomfortable, please leave the room." You wait a moment and when Bucky shakes his head you nod and turn back to Soap, putting the chain around his neck, the golden ring right above the clavicle. Another sound escapes Soaps lips, a bit shaky, even if nothing in his posture signals unease. If anything he seems to relax as soon as the chain is on, even more when you lift his chin and cradle his cheek.
"Feel better? You are being so good for me, Jonny. Kneeling so beautifully, showing me, what you need. Even when there is someone watching you, who might not understand. That was very brave and I am proud of you. Now, your actions will still have consequences, but for now I give you a choice. You can stay here with me, just like that, until the movie is over and I will punish you myself. Or you can get it all over with right now and accept your punishment from John."
Another shaky breath and then: "John. Ah need John, please."
Bucky doesn't know how to feel. Why is everyone so calm about this. You are talking about punishing a team member and nobody is stepping in. Instead you seem to be happy about it, genuinely relieved almost. Not the fake softness a sadist would show. Not the cruel games Hydra would play. But how can a punishment be a good thing?
Ghost is watching the Soldier, like he is waiting for something. Your voice is so full of... Love? When you thank Johnny and tell him go find Price in his office. Jonny hesitates for a moment, looking at you with a little uncertainty and you just sigh, but there is a smile on your lips.
"It's okay, Johnny, I am not mad at you. You are still my good boy." Soft, but firm. The Winter Soldier shudders with... what is it? Longing? He doesn't understand the meaning behind everything, but when Soap is gone, he notices how your posture softens and Gaz tucks you onto his lap, holding you in a way, Bucky wished he was allowed to. You must be so soft to hold, to cuddle. It is even more confusing since he just witnessed you commanding a man to accept punishment, who could easily break you in half.
Ghost is still watching him, obviously thinking. "When she sais, she knows what we need, she means it. Not just for the work we do. She knows what we really need, deep inside, where most people don't dare to go. Johnny needs to know that someone cares enough to put him in his place, when he acts out. We all have our things, some similar, some very different. But she gives us what we need. Keeps the team dynamics stable. Keeps us human. Reminds us, that we have something to fight for, to come home to. Grounds us."
There is movement from the sofa as you get up, pulling Gaz with you. "'m tired, bed is calling." You mumble as you come over and place a quick kiss on Simon's shoulder. Then you look at Bucky, brows furrowed for a moment as if deciding what to do with him. It feels almost exciting. Then you smile again. "Thank you for staying calm and not interfering. I know you must have questions, I will gladly answer tomorrow. And remember what I said, as long as you are with us, you are mine to care for. As far as you let me."
It's an invitation. And something inside of him is warm and fuzzy already. He did good. He did not disturb the.. that. You are happy with him. For a moment he wonders how it would be to kneel like that before you, to make you proud. You just smile and turn around one last time before you leave the room.
"James, be a good boy for me and write down all your questions on a piece of paper and bring them to me tomorrow morning. You know where my room is, I will get up around eight."
Another invitation and instructions. Bucky is almost disappointed about the lack of command in your voice, but he feels the Soldier relaxing. Good boy. He can be that. He can be your good boy. Yours.
not sure if you're still down for writing for them but can i ask for more sub!soap? that pussy drunk one has me slightly feral, just a lil foam out the mouth, ya know?
I am always down for writing for any of the cod bois. just because my brain decided to be mean and not allow me any motivation to write for like three years doesn't mean it didn't let all the thots marinate in there like delicious jar of pickles ready to be opened at a moments notice.
ANYWAYS
here's more sub!John 'Soap' MacTavish (with a heaping dose of praise kink and pussy worship on the side)
When your phone lights up, it’s late, far later than any of your friends usually text you. That’s the only reason you even check it, so unused to the sound of a text at this time of night.
But as soon as you see the name on the screen, you’re leaping to your feet. It’s from Soap, a little smiley face and soap emoji next to his name that you’d originally put down as a joke, but that quickly changed when you saw him blush bright red the first time he saw the contact you’d made for him.
The text is short, simple. He just landed, but in the mess of going on leave, forgot his keys back on base, and if it wasn’t too much trouble, could he stay at yours?
Almost as soon as you finish reading, another text pops up, and your heart sinks. It’s another message, Soap backpedaling as he apologizes for how late it is, that he didn’t realize with the time difference, and that he’s just getting a hotel, he’s sorry to have bothered you, and he hopes you have a good night.
You’re immediately calling him, already putting on your shoes and grabbing your keys.
“Bonnie, I’m so so-”
“John MacTavish, don’t you dare apologize.” You cut him off, striding out the front door of your flat and locking the door behind you, “Are you at your flat now?”
There’s a long silence on the other end, and you actually check the phone to make sure you didn’t disconnect on accident.
“You don’t have to-”
Once more, you cut him off. “I want to. Are you at your flat?”
A sigh.
“Yeah, ‘m at my flat.”
You nod decisively, even though he can’t see you. “Okay. I’m on my way. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
He’s quiet, too quiet, and you feel a knot start to form in your stomach. “M’kay, bonnie.” He sighs softly, the tone of his voice almost… defeated. “Thank you.”
“Don’t gotta thank me for this, Johnny,” you murmur as you start up your car, pulling out of the parking garage and starting the familiar drive to his flat. “I’m on my way.”
~~~
When he gets into your car, Soap is subdued. He’s still in the rough canvas pants and scratchy shirts that are typical of base attire, and there’s scruff on his jaw, showing that it’d been some time since he’d shaved. But the most striking thing is how tired he looks. Soap has always been so energetic, even after the most grueling of missions. He’s usually a seemingly endless well of positivity, but now it appears that the well has run dry.
He greets you with a quiet voice. “Thanks, bonnie.” You can’t help the way you keep sneaking glances at him on the drive back to your flat, but he’s staring out the window at the passing streetlights, lost in thought. His hands are still on his thighs, and that makes you more concerned than anything else. Soap’s hands are never still.
The drive back seems like it takes twice as long, but eventually, you’re back inside, locking your front door as Johnny stands in your small entryway, looking somewhat lost, duffle dangling from his fingertips.
You carefully step around him, grabbing the straps of his duffle and tugging it from his weak grasp. Again, it speaks volumes about his mental state that he doesn’t protest. You press your fingers gently against his chest, urging him to look at you.
“Go shower, yeah? I’ll leave some fresh clothes out. You’ll feel better once you’re clean.”
A weak smile crosses his lips, and before you can pull your hand away, he’s leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“Wha’ would I do without ye, love?”
You smile softly back up at him. “Luckily, you’ll never have to find out. Now, go shower, Sergeant.”
“Yes ma’am,” he says softly, turning and making his way towards your bathroom. You watch him walk away before heading towards your bedroom, setting his duffle inside the closet to be unpacked later. You grab his favorite t-shirt and sweatpants from your drawers, and set them on the toilet inside the bathroom once you hear the shower running.
It doesn’t take him long, it never does. When he emerges from the bathroom, cheeks flushed pink from the heat, clean shaven, and dressed in his comfy clothes, he looks the most like himself since you picked him up at his flat.
As soon as he sees you, he’s striding across the carpet, gathering you in his arms and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You respond eagerly, albeit slowly, not wanting him to feel like he has to rush this. You’ve missed him in the months he’s been away, and you’re not afraid to admit it.
You slide your hands through his soft, damp hair, the scent of your shampoo filling the air and sending a thrill down your spine at the thought of Soap smelling like you. You tug gently at his hair, and a low groan escapes his throat, his arms tightening around your waist.
“Love, please,” he whispers against your lips, hands slowly growing more frantic as he pushes up your shirt to feel your bare skin beneath his palms, like he needs more proof that you’re here and in his arms. “I can’t-”
“Shh,” you whisper back, going up on tip toes and pressing your body more fully against his, using your grip on his hair to tilt his head just so, kissing him deeper. “Take me to bed, John.”
A soft whine is pressed against your lips before he’s gripping your thighs and picking you up, holding your body tight against his as he quickly moves towards your bedroom. He moves with purpose, a soldier’s stride, quickly and efficiently navigating your flat without taking his lips off of yours.
It makes something warm curl in your belly, that he knows your home so well, that he’s so comfortable here.
He gently lays you out on the bed, eagerly crawling on top of you, resting in the cradle of your thighs as he trails kisses down your neck. You keep running your fingers through his hair, tugging gently and making him let out all manner of delicious noises.
“That’s it, baby,” you coo at him, slowly rolling your hips against his as you feel him harden through the sweatpants. “Go on, take what you need.”
He whimpers again, his own hips rutting desperately against yours as he tries to relieve the tension that must’ve been building for weeks. It’s abundantly clear that he’s reacting on instinct alone, and you use your grip on his hair to drag him up to you, kissing him deeply. He’s sloppy, messy, dazed, and you feel a swell of affection at how quickly you’re able to get him to start relaxing.
“Good boy, Johnny,” you sigh into his mouth, hooking a leg over the back of his thigh, encouraging his frantic grinding. “Come for me, yeah? I know you need it, so bad. Do as I say, baby. Let go.”
The high pitched whine that escapes his throat sounds like it hurts, but he obeys orders and comes in his pants, twitching violently as he clutches at the sheets on either side of your body, trying to keep his head above the tidal wave of sensation wracking his body. You don’t even care that you’re barely close, all you care about is getting Soap off as soon as you can. He needs this, you can tell, and you wanna give him everything.
Immediately, you’re whispering praise, stroking fingers through his hair and down his back as you try to calm his shaky breathing as he comes down from the abrupt high. He buries his face in your neck, and you can feel as tears drip from his eyes onto your skin, tension bleeding out of his muscles as he lets the cradle of your body support him as he can finally fully relax.
For a long moment, the two of you lay there, Soap crying silently against your skin as you run your fingers over every inch of him you can reach, as though your touch can wipe away all the pain and suffering he’s been dealt over the months he’s been away from you.
Eventually, his tears dry up, a few shaky inhales and exhales before he pushes himself up and away from your body, propping himself up with his hands. His eyes are bloodshot, but his face is less tense, the lines of stress that had been present on his brow cleared away.
“Bonnie, I-”
You press a gentle finger to his lips. “Don’t you dare. There is absolutely nothing to apologize for. You did exactly as I said.”
Even with the reassuring words, he still looks troubled. “You didn’t come,” he murmurs against your finger, silent apology clear in his tone.
You sigh, only slightly exasperated. “John, you know I don’t care.”
But he’s not to be dissuaded, not this time.
“But I do,” he says, pressing reverent kisses down your chest as he slowly makes his way down your body. “Wan’ ye ta come, love.”
“Johnny-”
But he won’t be dissuaded, and you honestly just don’t have the heart to turn him away, not as he finally seems to be coming back to himself.
It’s simple, lifting your hips so he can slide your shorts down your legs, a routine the two of you have done hundreds of times before. He still gets that same dazed look he gets every time, eyes flicking up to yours for permission.
You cradle his face with your hand, thumb brushing over a faded bruise on his cheekbone.
“Go on, baby,” you murmur, a small, sad smile playing at your lips. “Whatever you need, love.”
A broken groan escapes him, and he wastes no more time. You’re spread out so beautifully, just for him, and fuck, he needs this so bad he can’t even breathe.
His tongue slides through your folds, a deep rumble escaping him as he finally gets to taste you again. It’s been far too long since the last time, he fucking missed this.
You let your head tip back, whimpering quietly at the pleasure that surges through you as Soap seals his lips around your clit and sucks. He knows exactly how to drive you straight towards the edge of insanity, and it’s knowledge he shamelessly abuses.
He feasts on your cunt like he’s on the cusp of starvation. He hooks his strong arms under your thighs and then up over your hips, hands flat on your belly as he buries his face between your thighs. You couldn’t squirm away if you tried, as though you’d want to.
His mouth is warm and wet as he fucks you with his tongue, the sound of his feasting absolutely lewd in the quietness of your bedroom, but the only thing it does is turn you on even more. He’s entirely focused on you, and the intensity of his attention is almost stifling.
“Fuck, baby, I missed you,” you whine, fingers curling into his hair, tugging gently as you grind your hips against his face. “Missed your mouth too- oh!, yes, Johnny, just like that, please!”
As soon as you start talking, he doubles down, focusing his attention on your clit, sucking rhythmically on that senstive bundle of nerves until you’re damn near suffocating him with how tight you’re pressing his face into your needy cunt.
It’s clear he’s in heaven, though. Every time you try to loosen your grip, or pull him back, he whines, this pathetic little noise that vibrates through the very core of you, making you gasp and squirm.
“J-Johnny, fuck baby, you’re gonna make me come. Fuckin’ missed you, baby, missed how good you are to me, fu-uck!”
His pleased little hum makes a different kind of warmth spread through you, as you realize he’s finally coming out of that dark headspace he’s been in since god only knows how long. He takes your words to heart, stops teasing you and instead focuses on trying to get you to tip over that edge. He releases one of your hips, only to gently press a thick finger inside you, clearly delighting in the way you gasp and clench around the intrusion.
It doesn’t take long for him to be able to add a second finger, your slick absolutely drenching his hand, making the slide of his fingers far easier than it has any right to be considering how long it’s been. He’s quick to find that spot inside you, crooking his fingers in that come hither motion and stroking in time with your sobs.
“S-So close, baby, please!”
He lets out a moan, the vibration adding just the right amount of stimulation to make you come with a sharp cry, your legs tensing and your fingers twisting in his hair. Your back arches off the bed, but Johnny’s arm across your waist keeps you anchored to the mattress as you ride out your release against his face.
There’s a soft buzzing in your ears, and it slowly disappates as you come down from your high, and you can hear yourself babbling frantic words of praise and adoration at John.
“Good boy, fuck, good boy Johnny, thank you baby, oh shit you make me feel so good.”
He lets out a muffled sob, and begins to tentatively suck and lick at you again, careful not to cause you pain, but physically incapable of stopping yet.
Even as sparks fly up your spine, even as your body aches in protest, desperate for a break after such an explosive release, you stroke your fingers through his hair, and spread your legs even wider around his broad shoulders.
“That’s it, baby boy,” you whimper, eyes slipping closed. “Just take what you need. ‘m gonna give you everything.”
contains: discussion of bdsm, dom/sub relationship, sub!soap, dom!gn!reader
word count: ~700
brat or obedient?
⋆｡♡ ˚ yeah he’s the brattiest little bitch. at least at the start of a scene.
⋆｡♡ ˚ johnny’s always all excited, and trying to provoke you.
⋆｡♡ ˚ this is what he likes about being dommed - testing your limits, then being put in his place.
⋆｡♡ ˚ at first, whenever you two start something, he criticises almost everything you do in a mocking manner, or in a questioning tone.
⋆｡♡ ˚ you grab a paddle to punish him with? “hey! why don’t you just spank me with your hands?”
⋆｡♡ ˚ you get out a pair of handcuffs for him? “i look way better in rope, you know, master.”
⋆｡♡ ˚ when he acts like a brat, he loves it when you kinda… don’t take him seriously. just mockingly scoff and go “silly johnny. that’s not a good idea at all.”
⋆｡♡ ˚ loves, loves, loves the condescending tone. he kinda has a thing for getting talked down to. he loves to know that you’re in charge now - and, in play, everything is your choice.
⋆｡♡ ˚ once you punish him and mock him, he finally drops the brat act.
kinks and limits:
⋆｡♡ ˚ he loves being degraded. for example, johnny drools a fuckton when he is being overstimulated (which is another thing he likes) - and he is a very happy man when you mock him about that. “aww, look, my dumb little puppy can’t control himself, drooling all over himself, huh?” or “i wonder, does your cock or your mouth leak more?”
⋆｡♡ ˚ puppy play. yeah, he’s ready to wear a collar and a leash, but he’s also not opposed to being muzzled. put him in a cage when he’s bad. (whether that be a human-sized cage or one for his cock)
⋆｡♡ ˚ overstimulation is another thing, ideally mixed with bondage - use your hands or a toy on his leaky, sensitive cock and he’s writhing around, unsure if he wants to get away from your touch or if he wants more.
⋆｡♡ ˚ once you've corrected his behaviour, he appreciates some praise. even better when it sounds like you're talking to a dog, all “who's my good boy? my very, very best boy? yes… yes, it's my good Johnny!! good boy!!”
⋆｡♡ ˚ i mentioned it earlier too, but he likes the idea of wearing a cock cage. like i said, he's a huge fucking brat, and it keeps him in line. at least for a while.
⋆｡♡ ˚ okay so this last one of his preferences isn't really a kink but the guy loves to orally please you. makes it messy too - loves, loves, loves having your… fluids all over his face. goes insane when you praise him whilst he does it.
⋆｡♡ ˚ he does have a few limits, however:
-> doesn't care much for more extreme pain. no cbt for him, please.
-> okay i can't really explain why but i feel like he dislikes temperature play. johnny always runs hot (the guy is your personal space heater, always warm to cuddle with) and whether you just use wax or just ice, or use other means to quickly switch between hot and cold sensations - it overwhelms him and makes him uncomfortable.
-> hates being ignored as a punishment. i headcanon him as always being overexcited and a bit loud as a kid, and sometimes he'd get ignored when people got tired of him. it still makes him feel genuinely insecure, so he wouldn't be okay with you doing it as a punishment.
aftercare:
⋆｡♡ ˚ i think it always takes a bit for him to get out of subspace. he enjoys spending time with you, when he's in subspace, in a non-sexual context.
⋆｡♡ ˚ probably enjoys, after getting cleaned up a bit, just lying down on your chest as he still wears his collar and you run your fingers through his hair.
⋆｡♡ ˚ big cuddler.
⋆｡♡ ˚ he's usually not that exhausted after a scene, so he can do at least some of the physical aftercare himself. still, he likes it better when you're there with him and help him.
⋆｡♡ ˚ usually gives a little feedback on the scene immediately after, something like “tha’ was good”, but the real feedback comes a few hours later or the next day, depending on when you guys did the scene.
⋆｡♡ ˚ big on communication. wants to make sure you are always comfortable. he can be a very bratty sub, but he worries about being overwhelming or annoying.
thank you for reading! check out my masterlist for more fics ❤️ - and here’s the same bdsm headcanon thing for ghost (this one is for fem!readers only, sry)
I think Soap would be absolutely lose his mind to suck on some high quality titty. He’s just so touch starved he wants you to hold him. He ends up laying his head in your lap and how could he not want to taste the supple boob that he’s practically breathing on. He’ll beg too, all soft and sweet “ baby please, come on my love, my sweet girl lemme taste you ,promise thats all i want” he’d whine . Your heart far too soft to say no to your boy begging so sweet, just a taste wouldn’t hurt. You’d just let him push your shirt up and lave your hard nipple with his tongue.
Johnny would be such a good boy for you all soft whines and “ thank you baby’s” mumbled against your breast. Of course he would pop a stiffy , how could he not with such a caring partner. So caring that you’d run your hand down his belly, grip his aching cock, and stroke him till he’s bucking into your hand and whispering “ I’m gonna… oh fuck I’m gonna…” before he spills all over your palm .
With shuddering breaths he hold you waist tight, mumbling about taking care of you as soon as his dick stops throbbing
Johnny with a s/o that shy in the streets but a freak in the streets. She loves giving pleasure, doing anything he wanted. (Love your work)
Cw: smut, bdsm, rope, cuckholding, orgasm denial, sensory deprivation, collaring, puppy play, nipple play, rimming, pegging, anal fingering, riding, anal sex, dom!reader, sub!Soap, tell me if I missed any.
“She’s a shy thing,” were the first words Price used to describe you when Soap brought you to the base for a visit.
You were glued to him on your short visit, yours softer hands locked between his calloused ones, clinging to him like a lost puppy after finding the perfect caretaker. You spoke with a hushed tone, eyes finding interest on the ground or the dirtied boots they wore so often that it felt like second skin, and smiled shyly. It was a small but adorable grin that made Soap’s heart throb with adoration.
You were a shy creature with people you didn’t know, preferring to keep to yourself - he knew that - but he’d gushed so often about his team and how’d you like them as much as he spewed about his lovely life with you in his arms, welcoming him in the best ways possible when he was off. You nodded at everything Gaz said, flashing him a little smile that made Soap so happy that you got along with them despite your insistence of sticking to his side. You listened intensely to everyone talk, small greetings and formalities before they got to the nitty-gritty of knowing each other. Even Ghost, Soap’s stubborn friend, had broke down and shared a bit about himself.
But Price was wrong, he was farthest from the truth about you being a shy thing in a whole. You were - in simplest words - a freak. When he expected you to be as soft and tender as you were in the kitchen, dining room or cuddling in his arms, you were a beast in bed, a wild and dangerous thing that left him panting and wanting without a lick of release if you felt particularly cruel. Truly, you were a bit timid, a loving person and the best he could ask to have as a lover, but you were also the strongest person he’s ever known.
You could have him on his knees and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it, lapping at your feet with his ass arched up like a birch in heat —he might as well be with how much he listened to you, letting you tie him up and string him however you wanted. You had him at every beck and call, a quick whistle from you and he’d come bouncing around the corner and into bed, stripped and prone for any manhandling from you. You would tie him to the headboard in the softest rope you could find, promising that you’d take care of him and that he was so pretty when he was restrained, his cock hard and angry between his legs, twitching and throbbing with precious pre rolling down his engorge head from the black cock ring.
Sometimes you’d wrap a soft lace over his eyes, blinding him from seeing your after you strip teased him, leaving him writhing and panting around his ring gag. You denied him his release, testing him with every teasing touch over his sensitive nipples - he always was more reactive when blindfolded, depending on his touch to feel and understand the world around him - pinching and pulling at the piercings he impulsively got. You’d ride him to tears, wetting the blindfold in a darker shade, using his body as a vessel for your pleasure, fondling with his heavy balls or pulling his perky nipples until he milked him dry of cum, leaving his cock spurting thin ropes of water cum.
Other times you had him on a leash, a red collar wrapped around his neck that gave you leverage whenever you pegged him, splitting him in two on the thick strap on you wore to plough into him. All that led up to it was an extensive hour of foreplay that left him needily barking at you. You had him collared, on his knees and elbows, back arched and rutting back against your lube-soaked fingers. He moaned when you rimmed him, circling the wrinkled ring of his ass and feeling it twitch around the tail you plugged him with to ready him for a night of debauchery and pleasure. Foreplay: stretching him with your fingers and tapping his prostrate to loosen him up, and care were important part of your book, you vowed to care about your “cute pup”.
“Aye, ” Soap nodded, throwing an arm around you and pulling you closer by the hip, “Aren’t ye, hen?”
What'd Soap do when his partner tells him to abstain from sex for a month? Like, not as punishment or anything, but for fun (to see how long he can hold it lol)
He would be so horny oml
He'd take the challenge but would be wanting to change his response cause of how much he loves you (you can't really blame him your just to fuckable and cute ;) )
he would be jacking off to your naughty pictures just for some relief but never make himself cum because he knows that you do it better so he just edges himself until he gets permission to cum like a good boy that he is
He would be all lovey dovey so you can end the challenge early so he can just fuck you and feel your body next to his skin to skin he can't help that he's just a horny man with his beautiful partner (I mean he already is lovey dovey but y'know him)
He'll be whining and groaning for you to just end the challenge "Gràdh please let me fuck you" he be switching to Scottish to English and he would lay on your lap because he can't let you go cause he wants to be next to his partner :(
