#tw armpits

[pfhwrittesabandoned]

something something nik palming the back of your head to keep your nose nice and close to the dark curls of his armpit while you're sandwiched between him and price in the booth at the local pub as price's heavy hand creeps higher and higher up your thigh something something

[fictitioussaturday]

Drabble Masterlist

The glorious return of Dom!Soap!

Pairing: Dom!Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Sub!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Sub!Reader

TWs: Dom/Sub dynamics, armpits, sweat

Divider by @/cyberangel-graphics

The after-gym ritual was always the same - Johnny and Simon would come home, sweat soaked and exhausted only to find you with your hand down your underwear. They'd pull their shirts off, dropping them to the floor as you finally registered they were home. You'd crawl to them, needy and dripping, tugging them down until you nose was buried in one of their armpits.

It was one of the few times Simon got a little mean with you, his gravely chuckle reverberating deep in his chest as he grabbed the back of your head and pressed you deeper.

"C'mon, Sweetheart, gi' us a little lick."

And you would, every time. Your soft little tongue would trace its way up his side, laving at the trails of salty sweat concentrated underneath his arms. Johnny would wait, biding his time, cock twitching in excitement as he watched you lose yourself in Simon's scent. When it seemed like your nose had finally become accustomed to him, Simon would pass you over to Johnny, pushing your head into the other man's chest.

"Please, Sir? Can I smell you too?"

Johnny would wait, the silence dragging on just longer than was comfortable - he liked watching you squirm, your eyes big and pleading as you looked up at him.

"And have ye been behavin' while we've been out, pet?"

He would tug your fingers up, sliding them into his waiting mouth, sucking on the digits and watching your mind go blank. When he was ready, he released them with a pop.

"Taste's like ye've been having fun, ye naughty wee thing."

His teasing would make your bottom lip wobble, a crestfallen expression that tugged at his heartstrings. You were too spoiled for your own good.

"Ach, go oan then."

He'd settle you on his lap, arranging your legs so they fell on either side of his waist. When you were positioned how he liked, he would click his tongue to summon Simon who took his place behind you. When Johnny finally gave the order, you'd dive face-first into his waiting pit.

As you huffed, moaning as Johnny’s essence soaked into your skin, Simon would begin to touch you. His light, teasing touches set your nerves alight, and it wasn't long until you were moving your hips, rubbing up against Johnny’s bulge. Once you were properly worked up, Simon and Johnny would take turns splitting you open on their cocks.

It was the perfect post-lifting cardio, each man spurring the other on with dirty words as they pounded into you. You hands would scrabble against their necks, their backs, whatever you could tug on to make sure your nose was always right where their scent was most potent. When the three of you were finally spent, sweaty and exhausted, you'd run a cool shower before curling back up, their abandoned gymshirts stuffed deep inside your pillowcase.

[throughtherabbitshole-ao3]

I think Max should also have a thing for armpits

I want him pressing kisses to my pit while I get flustered about it despite slobbering all over his armpit minutes earlier

Yes I agree I agree so hard Max likes to go sniff sniff

[dwalinsimpenetrablebush]

Draw You In

Dwalin/Nori. 1k words about Nori coming home to roost with a bit of scent kink thrown in for good measure. Enjoy!

Nori was tired.

He was tired and he was homesick.

It had been too long since he'd been back inside the mountain, off to check in on long-standing investments in Erid Luin for the past year plus some. They could be trusted on their own for a short while but needed occasional oversight to ensure everything was moving as it should. When the shape of the lonely mountain came into squinty-eyed focus, his weary feet picked up the pace. Home was within sight.

Merging with the incoming evening crowd, he gave his name at the gate — Rimil son of Loni, and was through to the entrance chamber easily enough. It wouldn't do to have his comings and goings recorded.

Shifting away from the crowd, he dropped into one of the lesser used side halls to make his way deeper into the mountain. His shoulders lowered with each step, a visible burden being sloughed as the weight of the mountain pressed her comforting presence firmly against him.

He held his persona to his rooms, showing a forged signed note to the guards watching the hallways, excusing his presence in that wing. Nothing to see here, he was a nobody tinker from Erid Luin, here to see Dwalin about some business. After being waved through he ducked down a maze of hallways, slowly working his way deeper. It was a fight to keep the sigh from his lips when he caught sight of the door to his and Dwalin's rooms.

When he was younger, he never would've thought that he'd have a proper home to come back to. It was always a hope deep in his mind, places he wouldn't acknowledge for the hurt they could cause him. But a hope nonetheless.

A quick turn of a key and he was enveloped in the scent he had missed for too long. A rich, earthen cocktail that sunk its tendrils into his brain. It was the work of minutes to strip out of everything and dive into the bath, scrubbing perfunctorily and working a familiar herbal smelling shampoo through his hair. By the time he was done he was debating going to bed without braiding his hair. Surely it would be fine for one night.

He heard Dori's chastisement in his head about dwarves who went to bed with wet hair and sighed before going and sitting in front of the fire, brush and oil in hand. Pulling a length over his shoulder, he began working the tangles out, slowly drying the copper strands in the radiating warmth as his tension finished unwinding.

He was getting too old for these long trips. He found he missed his bed when he was away for too long, his feet antsy to find their way back home. Heartsick for his One and his family.

Hearing the entrance door open, he gathered his now-dry hair into a single plait, thick and heavy along his back before we went to greet who he hoped was his One. Stepping into the entryway he saw Dwalin working to stow his weapons on hooks along the wall, bending to remove his boots before continuing on into their set of rooms.

He froze when he saw Nori, shock in his eyes that quickly bloomed to joy. "Nori," a warm burr coated the two syllables as they were spoken. A welcome and affirmant all in one.

They slotted together like two pieces of a puzzle, arms winding around the other as they fought to pull as close as possible. Fingers grasped into clothing, clutching tight as arms squeezed around each others bulk. Nori tucked his face into the crook of Dwalin's neck, his beard scratching softly across Nori's face.

He was hit with concentrated scent as he pressed his nose to Dwalin's neckline, the warmth of home blooming even more strongly as he pulled Dwalin into his lungs.

This was what he had been missing.

This was home.

It was a curious thing.

In years past it was the adventure that drew him. Seeing new sights, meeting people, pulling off death-defying heists—it was what he dreamed about. His times home would be few and far between, only coming back to plan for his next trip. During his days spent locked in one place his feet itched to roam.

He used to think nothing could be a stronger pull than Ori and Dori (however tumultuous the latter's relationship at any given moment). That they were the true test to his wanderlust, his ore vein of truth pulling him home. He never thought he would have a One. Not him. A criminal who was more comfortable with dealings under the table than over.

Who would have him for himself?

He looked at his One, taking in the height and breadth of him, appreciating how easy it was to burrow into his chest and be surrounded. Safe from any threats. Dwalin's broad hands and thick arms wrapped around Nori, encouraging him to cuddle close. Nori became aware of Dwalin's scent once more. A thick, heady aroma that seeped from his pores.

He knew what he wanted.

Pulling back, he tugged Dwalin with him, leading him into the bedchamber. Fingers interlaced, spread between them, Dwalin couldn't help the smile at the sight of Nori's hair twisted into a sleeping plait—the herbal scent of him leaving a trail for Dwalin to follow. Nori twisted and pushed Dwalin into the bed, chivying him up until he was resting on the pillows.

"Clothes off," he demanded. Absolute in his expectations.

The smile was back as Dwalin shifted to remove his tunic, breeches following shortly after until they were in a pile beside the bed. Lounging back in only his underthings, he held open arms out to Nori, "Come on then."

Sliding his own pants off, leaving himself in only a sleep shirt, he crawled into Dwalin's waiting arms and nuzzled close. He shifted down until he could tuck himself up under Dwalin's arm, nose pressed right to the crease where dark hair gathered up the scent that was slowly pulling Nori under.

He breathed deep. Settling the scent around him like a shroud, curled up and basking in its heat.

Here was his One. He was home.

[zorosdimples-archived]

Feet scare me (genuinely) but I’m always down for licking armpits

okay and that’s fair!!!! i just think a lot of people don’t give feet the time of day—like they don’t even stop to consider the possibilities. but it’s not for everyone, and i get that <3

armpit licking is truly unparalleled. other than the fact that it feels great, the appeal of armpits is akin to the appeal of feet. they’re traditionally viewed as “dirty.” but there’s nothing more intimate than loving on the spots that are considered unworthy of love!

[pfhwrittesabandoned]

pspspsps gaz holding up his arm in the gym and asking if you can tell he’s wearing a different kind of deodorant pspspsps

[pfhwrittesabandoned]

Here’s a prompt for ya: Soap takes their partner to the gym at the ass crake of dawn so no one is there. His partner is doing arm curls when Soap tells them to hold that position. When they do Soap slips his shorts down really quick and starts thrusting sloppily into their arms, either the bend of their elbow or the tight space in their pit

awooo wooo woooo! anon, you've got me barking and growling at this one!

cw/tw: readers genitals are referred to as “cunt”, armpit fucking, mentions of somnophilia, muscle fetish, gym wear fetish, sex in a public space (kind of), nicknames (“hen” and “bonnie”), bodily fluids (sweat and cum), dubcon/noncon.

pairing: john “soap” mactavish x AFAB!reader

word count: 912

a/n: a little drabble from johnny’s POV this time. tagged as noncon and dubcon because this is definitely borderline but unfortunately johnny is a mutt and doesn’t particularly care. also, anon i’m so sorry for accidentally forgetting about your prompt. i didn’t mean to, i’m just easily distracted and also got weirdly in my head about this not being good enough??? not entirely sure who put me in charge of my own brain but here we are.

johnny would admit, if you were aware enough to ask, to having an ulterior motive (besides helping you get stronger like you asked) by dragging you down to the gym at 5am.

(although he was sorely tempted to roll you over and slide into your warm, wet cunt when you groaned at him sleepily. he spent a few minutes thinking about how he could get you to make more of those pretty noises before deciding that he could wait for another opportunity as he woke you up by peppering light kisses all over your face.)

for johnny it’s all worth it when he catches a glimpse at you in the mirrors opposite the benches the other gym goers usually use for chest presses. you’re stripped down to your sports bra (he’d been quick to persuade you out of the loose t-shirt you were wearing, claiming that the fabric would impede your range of motion), biting your lip in concentration as you flex your bicep to lift the dumbbell in your grip. 

steamin’ jesus. the sight of you already has him hard enough to hammer nails. 

johnny glances around the empty gym, eyeing the clock above the doors. if he’s quick he should be finished before even the earliest of risers interrupt his plans. with a final casual glance around, johnny steps away from the racks where he’s been perving loitering waiting for the perfect moment to interrupt you. 

aaaand there it is, just as you’re about to put the dumbbell down to switch to your other arm. 

johnny sidles up to you, clicking his tongue in faux-disapproval. 

“c’mon hen, you cannae be done already!”

you huff and blink as a bead of sweat makes its way down from your temple over the curve of your cheek (and johnny beats back the urge to lean down and lick it up). you slowly start to lower the dumbbell, probably to ignore him and well, that won’t do. 

johnny clicks his tongue again and pouts just a little, reaching out to lift your arm into the correct position for his plans with a solid grasp (he tries not to think about the way the muscles in your forearm flex automatically to balance the weight in your hand under his palm).

“theeere we go, bonnie. just hold it right there fer me.” johnny praises distractedly, checking the doorway and the clock a final time. he purposefully keeps his grip on your forearm and pulls his tented shorts down to his mid thigh with his spare hand. his leaking cock slaps against his stomach and he grunts as the sensitive head rubs against cotton, smearing pre-cum messily as it does. 

“wh- johnny! jesus christ, not here!” you hiss out, your head whipping around to check if anyone else is in the gym (there isn’t, johnny had done weeks of recon so that he could time this perfectly thank you very much).

“i’ll be quick, hen. don’t worry.” johnny tells you, already guiding his cock into the tight and warm space of your armpit. he groans loudly, the sound echoing around the empty space, as he revels in the sensation of thrusting in between the side of your sports bra and inner arm. 

you go to pull your now trembling arm out of johnny’s grip and he squeezes your wrist in warning, thrusting a little bit harder when you yelp. christ, you make the sweetest noises for him, you really do. 

“don’t spoil it fer me now, bonnie.” god, his voice is already hoarse - like he’s been fucking you for hours instead of less than a minute. hell’s bells if you ever figured out the power you hold over him he’d be a goner for certain. 

johnny loses himself in the slide against your body, his pre-cum and a hint of your sweat easing the way, as he holds your wrist tightly. he can’t have you pull away even for a second. 

“fuckin’ hell, you just feel so fuckin’ good.” he pants out, “been thinkin’ about this for weeks, ever since you asked me tae help ye find a gym.” 

the dumbbell slips from your fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud but johnny doesn’t care, can’t care, as his hips piston back and forth. distantly he hears you whimper over the slick, wet sounds of his cock rutting into your armpit causing him to spit pre-cum messily onto your soft skin and the damp fabric of your sports bra.

“do that again.” he demands, grinding his hips desperately, “c’mon bonnie, i’m so close.” 

“johnny -” 

whatever you’re trying to say gets drowned out by his loud moan as he comes messily. thick, wet ropes cling to your inner arm, the soft skin of your armpit, and drip lazily onto your chest. johnny grinds his softening cock into the mess on your skin, relishing in the last feeble twitch before stepping back and dropping your arm carelessly. 

with trembling fingers johnny pulls his shorts back up over his hips, hissing as the fabric rubs uncomfortably against his sticky and sensitive skin. he flicks his eyes up to the clock above the doors and grins, perfectly timed as always mactavish.

“better clean up hen, it’ll be gettin’ busy now.” 

johnny saunters away from you, whistling lazily, completely uncaring of the disgusted look you shoot at his back. 

(it’s worth it, even when you cancel your gym membership and refuse to wear anything other than long sleeved tops for weeks afterwards.)

[pfhwrittesabandoned]

last night i was fussing over my extensive stretch marks in my boob-to-pit region and then a voice in my head said Soap would think that’s hot. and somehow i think that was your doing

firstly you need to know that i cackled like a mad scientist when i got this ask. secondly, here have some more parker's 'pit stuff. thirdly, and most importantly, i love you 💜

pairing: john "soap" mactavish x AFAB!reader word count: approx. 500 tags/warnings: 'pit stuff (i'm not sorry in the slightest), a hint of body insecurity, AFAB!reader (but still hopefully gender neutral), a brief mention of playful wrestling, the reader's hands are pinned, bonnie used as a pet name, abrupt ending and barely edited as per usual.

"whatcha doin', bonnie?"

johnny's voice drifts from across the bedroom and you hear the rustle of his towel hitting the floor (always three paces away from the dirty laundry basket, despite the way you've lovingly threatened to smother him to death with his abandoned clothes each time you've had to pick up another pair of his socks).

you hum distractedly as you poke and prod at the textured skin carving light patterns from your underarm to the side of your breast. maybe you should try that miracle moisturiser your friend had suggested. ugh.

a pair of large, warm hands reach out to knead at your tits and you huff at your boyfriend as you meet his excited gaze. if there's one thing you know about john mactavish, it's that he's happier than a dog with two dicks whenever you're half dressed in his presence.

"johnny, get off. i need a shower." it's a token protest at best, you know that once he's got his hands on you that you won't be escaping his clutches until he's satisfied.

(it's one of the reasons you had to implement a "no showering together" rule so early on in the relationship, especially as he'd drop to his knees on the cool tile to chase the rivulets of water running down your thighs and make you unavoidably late every single time you did offer to share.)

"oh aye? feelin' a wee bit dirty are ya?" johnny waggles his eyebrows lasciviously. it takes everything in your power not to roll your eyes at him. you know what'll come out of his mouth next -

"i'm up fer givin' you a wash bonnie, ye just have tae ask."

(what follows is just as predictable as his cheesy lines. you end up panting lightly after being wrestled onto the bed, your wrists pinned lightly above your head and johnny face down licking a wet stripe into your armpit.)

his stubble prickles at the sensitive skin of your underarm and where his cheek is rubbing against your tit, causing you to squirm. johnny groans in response and you feel his cock twitch against the curve of your hip, smearing precum against your skin.

"i fuckin' love this." it's muffled against your skin and you shudder again, "i fuckin' love the way yer tits feel too."

you bite down on your lip to stop from gasping as he turns his face slightly to suck a wet mark over your stretch marks. you don't exactly get his thing about your armpits but you do admit that the way he worships your body certainly helps you appreciate it at least.

"y'look fuckin' incredible. wish i could just keep ye here in our bed forever, not hafta share ye with anyone ever again."

johnny cuts himself off with a low moan, his own words winding him faster than the way you're wriggling weakly against him, not unaffected yourself.

"j-johnny, c'mon. let me go shower -" you manage to gasp out. you feel his hands tighten slightly on your wrists and johnny looks up, his beautiful blue eyes more intense than you've seen before.

"oh no, bonnie. i'm keepin' ye right here until 'm done with ye."

(and when johnny is done with you, your legs won't stop shaking as he crowds you under the spray of the shower, washing the combination of cum and spit from off your chest and out from under your arms.)

-- (@kaadaaan come get your man he's being weird about armpits again)