His Favourite

omfg i forgot that i never showed tumblr my greatest achievement. my pride and joy, my pi-ass de résistance

Proving a point to my boyfriend.

PLEASE REBLOG if you (male or female) believe it is perfectly okay and natural for a guy of any age to cry

reblog this if you're okay with booping spams please !!

Reblog to let your followers know that they’re safe from jumpscares/screamers/etc from you on April 1st but they are NOT safe from getting boop’d like an idiot amen

THAT'S ME!!!!!

cw: fluff, cowgirl afab reader x ghost, grumpy x sunshine, clumsy reader

HEADCANON: the team meets Ghost’s little bird

PAIRING: Simon Riley x reader

It all started when Soap, half-joking -- not really -- asked over a pint of that terrible guinness that one of the recruits mentioned that he voiced out a lingering thought out loud,

"So, Ghost. Ye ever gonna introduce us to yer missus? Or is she just some hallucination ye made up tae wind us up aye?"

Ghost, who had never confirmed nor denied anything about his personal life, simply shrugged. "Pub. Friday. Seven."

Soap thought he was joking.

At exactly Friday, seven-fucking-pm though. Soap. Soap realized he was wrong.

They met at a grimy pub near base. Price was wary. Gaz looked openly curious. Soap just looked excited, because how normal could Ghost’s wife possibly be? Some goth lady with a death glare? A sniper with a scar over her eye? A shadow in human form?

None of the above.

What actually walked in was—

A tiny woman in a beat-up leather jacket, dusty denim jeans, a battered cowboy hat tilted low over her messy braid. Coupled with a pair of cracked leather boots that clomped across the floor like she owned the place.

Holy shit

She looked like she could ride a bull, shoot a rifle, and kiss you breathless — not necessarily in that order.

She waved frantically the moment she spotted them though — knocking over a chair and nearly tripping over her own boots as she did.

"HEY, SI" she yelled across the entire bar.

Ghost — stoic, terrifying, 6'4" Ghost — immediately straightened in his seat like a teenager seeing his crush. He actually moved. Stood up. Went to meet her halfway like she was the only thing that existed.

Soap’s jaw was physically on the table.

This tiny woman. Small. Wiry. Sun-kissed and with the greatest pair of tits Soap has ever seen immediately launched herself into Ghost’s arms like a missile. He caught her easily -- of course -- one hand on her lower back, the other ruffling her tousled brown hair with ridiculous tenderness.

Leaning down to let her smack a kiss right onto the cloth of his mask like she couldn’t give a single shit about what people thought.

She yanked the brim of his hat down over his eyes — wait! when had he gotten a hat?? — and laughed that big, reckless, wild West laugh that turned every head in the pub.

The team stared in horror and awe.

"This can’t be real," Gaz muttered. "I’m dreaming. I died in Syria."

"She's so small," Soap whispered back, scandalized. "And she’s—she’s—hot??"

They made it back to the table, Ghost’s hand resting casually on her hip like a leash.

When they made it back to the table, she shoved Ghost into a chair, plopped herself onto his lap without ceremony, and grinned at the rest of them.

"Howdy, boys," she said, tipping her hat.

Soap almost cried.

She was absolute chaos. Stole the darts right out of the wall and challenged Soap to a game ("loser buys shots, city boy" "'m from Scotland, lass" "Cattle country ain't like sheep country, sugar" "we have cows. They moo too").

Gaz: "You're so fucking stupid mate"

Soap: "Shut it aye?"

Flirted shamelessly with Ghost across the table — calling him "sugar," "cowboy," and "my big strong man" with zero shame in her Southern-twanged voice. Told Price he looked like a "sheriff with a broken heart."

Somehow wrangled Ghost into a pool match where she used him as her pool cue guide — pressed up against him, his huge hands guiding hers, while she winked at the others over her shoulder.

Ghost never smiled. Never joked. Never talked much. But with her? He was... different.

Softer. More human. Maybe even a little helpless, the poor bastard.

Price, to his credit, kept a straight face. Barely.

Soap, meanwhile -- after losing to her on those stupid darts and took on the challenge of guzzling down the said shots -- was vibrating with suppressed laughter.

She was chaos. Pure, distilled chaos — loud, funny, mean, fun, but also wildly affectionate. She stole a chip off Gaz and a stranger's plate without asking. Shooed off two creeps with a death glare who wouldn’t stop pestering the girls at the counter. Challenged the bouncer -- a hulking and massive bloke -- to arm wrestle and actually fucking won! Spent half an hour helping to take pictures of an old couple on a vacation to send to their grandkids. And started a chant for Price to shotgun a beer (he declined, though grimly but... endeared).

And through all of it, Ghost just... watched her. Silent. Steady. The same way he’d scan a perimeter — except more devoted. Soap swearing that he could even see him smile behind the mask.

At one point, she tugged on his sleeve and whispered something in his ear that made him let out a genuine, low chuckle. An actual laugh. Gaz's drink came out of his nose at that and Soap almost passed out from the shock.

By the end of the night, they were all completely obsessed with her.

(And slightly terrified. She challenged another guy twice her size to a pull-up contest and won.)

As they stumbled out of the pub, she looped an arm around Ghost’s waist and shouted, "THIS IS MY HUSBAND! HE’S BIGGER THAN YOUR HUSBAND!" at absolutely no one.

Ghost didn’t even blink. Just tugged her closer and murmured, "Alright, birdie. Inside voice yeah?."

"YOU LOVE ME BABY," she hollered back.

"Yeah," he said simply, not caring who heard. "I do."

And if anyone at the pub dared to stare — well, nobody wanted to make eye contact with a man wearing a skull mask who looked like he could bench-press a car and the woman who looked like she could drive said car through you and still smile while doing it.

Soap later: "Lass is unhinged aye?." Gaz: "You’re just mad she drank you under the table, mate." Price: "I like her. She’s good for him." Soap: "Naw, like... she’s pure mental. He’s just as daft. It’s a match made in hell, I’m tellin' ye.

Ghost, hearing them gossip: (Just shrugs.) "I like her loud. Makes it easier to find her."

masterlist

PSA:

I’d like to fuck that man.😙😙🥺

Reblog if you think asexuality is a legitimate sexuality.

I'm trying to prove something.

ONLY YOURS (Sub!Price x GN!Reader)

price masterlist — price picture credit

summary; he’s just too damn loud. — 1.7k words

[WARNINGS; sub!price, dom/sub dynamics, power imbalance, secret relationships, handjob, light degradation, biting, out of place fluff.]

John watches as Soap laughs and slaps Gaz on his back over some story, his other hand holding a cup of some sort of alcohol; some brand that John doesn’t personally drink. He’s just thankful that it isn’t tequila as he doesn’t want a face full of his spit and the tequila. In John’s hand is a nice cup of whiskey, something that burns but goes down fairly easy. His eyes look into his cup, watching the dark liquid swirl around, vaguely hearing Ghost, who is next to him, speak up about Soap’s story, something about correcting a detail. John doesn’t care too much to pay attention at the moment, not when the alcohol is beginning to kick in just the right way. It’s rare that he gets these moments with his men; being able to drink together as John is nearly always busying himself with something. 

“—That reminds me, Captain,” Soap hums, a grin stretched across his face. John picks his eyes up from his glass of whiskey, locking eyes with the tipsy Scotsman. “You’ve seemed much more relaxed, aye?”

John’s lip twitches as he hums before taking a sip of his whiskey, relishing the burn. He nods, his other hand coming up to rub the pleasantly sensitive skin underneath his jacket. “My stress has been much better these days, yes.” John replies with a chuckle. Oh, only if they knew.

Only if they knew why.

God, John feels like such a teenager sneaking around like this; he can’t get enough of the rush you give him, the secrecy you two have to maintain—when you sit on his desk and you force him to stand between your legs with his heavy cock in your hand. John shudders as you grab the front of his shirt and pull him closer—you said no touching, so John scrambles to plant his palms down on the desk on the outside of your thighs to keep himself up. You laugh as he struggles to be obedient, as he lets you position him however you want. Your wrist absentmindedly keeps bumping against the edge of the desk due to how close John’s body is, but you don’t mind. You don’t mind at all, not when John is letting out shuddery grunts and groans as he struggles to stay quiet.

“God,” He groans lowly, his voice gritty and deep in his chest. He’s so close, your breath brushes over his face and all he wants to do is lean forward to kiss you. You ghost your lips over his as your hand begins to drag up and down his leaking cock, pulling a loud gasp out of him. Delicious pleasure shoots up his spine and melts deep in his chest and gut as your hand continues to squeeze precum from him. John’s fingers dig into the wood of his desk as his head reels from how good your hand feels. Your lips twitch into a smile as you watch John’s eyelids flutter and how he nearly leans into you for a kiss but always at the last second, he catches himself; because he wants to be good. John swears as your hand around his cock speeds up, spreading his precum along the length, making your hand a slicker surface to slide against. 

You tsk as one particular moan bounces off the wall, and you don’t miss the way his hips jolt forward. “Oh, Captain..” You murmur, your eyes never leaving his pleasure drunk face. John’s eyelids open and he looks back at you, causing his dick to twitch in your palm, his hazy eyes settling on yours—like he’s waiting for you to talk. “And here I thought that the talk we had was important; how we need to be careful and quiet.” You taunt, leaning your cheek against his, your lips brushing against his ear. John’s skin burns from touching yours and he wants more, more, more, more—”But here you are, moaning like a fuckin’ whore.” 

John shudders, doing his damn best staying still, letting you play with his cock and heavy balls all you want. “Bloody hell, sweetheart—” John breathes out and you can tell he isn’t complaining about the degradation. In fact, you swear your knuckles are stickier. You hold his cock with one hand and your other hand comes down to the head, your finger swirling right under the mushroom tip causing John to shout out and his hips thrust into your hand, his brain melting and pouring out of his ears—your hand comes up and slaps against his mouth, causing his eyelids to pop open. You’re talking, but John has no idea what you’re saying, not when you’re mercilessly teasing his tip, fuck, he wants to cum so bad.

Your hand that is covering his mouth pats his cheek, leaving a slight sting behind; just enough to ground him back into reality. You were high off of the power your Captain gave to you. Your superior, the man who others respected due to his presence, his work, his efforts; is handing everything over to you. “I’m talking to you, Captain.” You add a mocking tone at the end. “M’listenin’.” John says with a heavy tone, his breath hitching in his throat. You click your tongue, causing him to tense. He suppresses the noises of complaints that threaten to leave his mouth. “Now, there’s one thing I don’t like. Why don’t you tell me what that is, Captain?”

John swallows the spit that has accumulated in his mouth. “Liars.” He whispers, his face burning with embarrassment. God, you being in control is thrilling, sneaking around is thrilling but he can’t ignore the embarrassment that bubbles in his gut every time. “I didn’t hear you, John. You want to be quiet now, but when it matters, you’re whimpering so loudly that I bet someone heard; you know Soap has a blabbermouth,” You grin as you witness John feel conflicted, but you don’t ignore the way his cock throbs in your hand. 

John lets out an unsteady breath, and nods—he doesn’t know what he’s agreeing to anymore, which tugs another laugh from your chest. John didn’t think he was the type to do this; he was sure only reckless privates and other lower ranks would risk something like this. Handjobs, quickies, everything of the sort on base. If you told him three years ago what he was doing right at this moment, his mouth would’ve frowned and shook his head in disbelief, and he wouldn’t blame his past self for doing so. Risking his whole career for a little stress belief—except, you’re more than stress relief to him and he’s more than a toy for you to play with. John loves when you distract him from the paperwork he has to do by wrapping a hand around his throat, leaning in—so uncharacteristic of him, he thinks—but he loves it more when you press a loving kiss against his temple.

John likes it when your hand touches the small of his back to check in with him, and he likes doing it in return. He likes speaking with only glances, and no words; sending you glances only the two of you understand. You can read him like no other. John likes it when you don’t question his authority as a Captain, you respect his rank and his experience, despite your control in the bedroom—or should you say office? John liked it when he realized you began to get up earlier, at the time he got up just to spend more time with him—an hour or two just for the two of you, sipping your morning drinks in silence together. He’s embarrassed at how easily you got him under your thumb because his libido is suddenly like it was when he was much younger; he isn’t too old, but he’s certainly aged a bit.

He’s brought back to reality by your hand squeezing the back of his neck then traveling to the back of his head, grasping threads of his short hair and gently tugging. “You with me, John?” You ask, your voice firmer than before. John makes a noise as he settles back into reality, his eyelids blinking rapidly as the unbearably hot feeling of arousal swirls in his gut. “M’with you, love.” John croaks, your eyes locking with his. Your eyebrow cocks ever so slightly—he knows what you want. “Green. Just a bit out of it.” John adds, noticing the way your eyebrow relaxes back into place. You hum and let go of his hair, letting his head lean forward a bit more than its previous strenuous position. 

“Out of it?” You question, your hand tilting his head to the side by his chin. John’s eyes stay on you, searching for any hint of how you feel, but your eyes have drifted down to his neck area. Your hand trails down from his chin to the buttons on his shirt, which you slowly begin to undo with one hand, your other still loosely wrapped around his cock. “Mm, you mean you were distracted, John.” You mock pout, you blink, and your eyes meet his again. John swallows, your eyes swirling with something he craves. 

“Dont’cha worry, pet. I’ll get you back on track.” John’s eyes widen at the name—pet—but he doesn’t have time to think about it too much when you pull one of the flaps of his shirt to the side and you sink your teeth into his shoulder harshly. “Fuck—” John curses, his hips jolting as the pain swirls against his nerves, your teeth hungrily biting down on his muscle and flesh. You pull away and John winces for a second, his breath stuttering when he sees something red on your teeth. Blood. You grin and lick your teeth, somehow stealing all of John’s air from his lungs. 

His knees buckle—and crack—violently when your hand suddenly begins to stroke his painfully hard cock, causing him to gasp. “Shit, love—” John moans out of appreciation, and you roll your eyes and grab his face, covering his mouth. “Noisy brat.” You reprimand as you stroke his cock. “My noisy brat.” John can’t believe himself when he nods, agreeing with you because he is yours. All of him is yours—like you are his.

✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes, AGAIN AGAIN✦

Ghost: Release me, woman. Fem!Y/N: …. *hugs him tighter* :3 Ghost, scared of intimacy: UNHAND ME!- -- (Comedic Death Mention) Someone: I shot you six times hOW ARE YOU ALIVE?! Y/N: Fool! The only one that’s gonna knock me off is ME! Price: *PANICKING*

-- Gaz: What did you do? Soap: ….suckdickonaccident Gaz: What? Soap: Sucked dick on accident! Gaz: HOW THE FUCK DO YOU SU-

-- Gaz: Here. We’ll put your phone on the aux- Y/N: NO DON’T- Speakers on full volume: FUCKFUCKFUCKMEUPANDCUTCUTCU- Price: JESUS BLOODY CHRIST *shuts off radio* Soap: *scratching the inside of his ear* Steamin’ Jesus- Y/N: I tried to warn you! Gaz: Who listens to Slipknot at 0900?! Ghost: *raises hand* Gaz: That’s- okay that’s fair. Soap: I’ve gone deaf. Y/N: You’re a bomb tech, it was gonna happen eventually. Soap: *middle finger* Price: *disappointed sigh* It’s too early for this-

-- (This one’s kinda sad but I couldn't stop thinkin' bout it-) Alejandro: You used to be nice…or did you never used to be? Valeria: … Alejandro: Oh god…maybe you never used to be…

-- Not a quote but if any of you have heard that audio that’s the names of the Princes of Hell overlayed on Funky Town, please imagine Soap & Y/N dancing to the Funky Town portion while Ghost sits there menacingly. Thank you.

-- (Depression joke) Y/N: Ahaaaa I’m soooo unwell. Price: Go to the psyche- Y/N: Ya know what it never was? That serious. It was never that serious- Price: Get your ass back here- Y/N: NEVER!-

-- König: I’ll keep all my emotions right here, and then one day, I’ll die. Horangi: No-

-- (Valeria has no color here, I ran out) Valeria: *eye roll* I am not trying to seduce you. Y/N, bi panicking: …. Valeria, but now smug: Would you like me to seduce you? Y/N: *strained wheeze & squeaky* Already achieved ma’am- Gaz: *listening to a mic implanted on Y/N* God damnit dON’T LET YOUR MOMMY ISSUES RUIN THIS MISSION!

-- (These next two have mental health jokes in’em) Y/N, hyper cleaning the base: AHAHA, yes! I’m finally feeling bett- ah, wait. I’m manic, and I’m hyper cleaning everything, ✨as a diversion✨. Price: P s y c h e . Y/N: Jokes on you, old man. I already have meds for this! …might need to up them though they feel like they’ve stopped working. Price: When did you start to feel they weren’t working? Y/N: Like three months ago. Price: PSYCHE Y/N: ASKING THEM QUESTIONS ABOUT MEDS ARE SCAAAARRYYY Price: YOU KILL MEN ALMOST EVERYDAY Y/N: Fair point. (Take ya meds)

-- Price: I don’t understand you- Y/N: Good! Means you’re probably mentally well. Price: I- Gaz: We really need to like- specify when you’re joking and when you’re serious, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.

-- Gaz: …Hm. Price: You’ve been staring at me for the past six minutes, what is it?Gaz: I think you have a grey hair. Price: Y/N, speeding in: WHICH IS TOTALLY FINE, IT’S BARELY EVEN THERE AND EVEN IF YOU WERE GOING GREY IT’D LOOK FANTASTIC ON YOU. Price: …would it? Y/N: Absolutely! …*thumps Gaz in the back of the head* Gaz: Ow-Uh yeah! Yeah! Actually I don’t even think it’s there, just the lighting. Price: Hm…alright. Y/N: Mhm! *death glare* Gaz: *mouthing* I’msosorry-

-- (Will someone please notice that I write Ghost as "Simon" when he's with Soap and they're being soft? It's intentional-) Soap: I’m not really sure what I’d do if I lost you… Simon: I know what I’d do. Soap: What? Simon: I’d find you.

-- Soap: I got my ankles microwaved. Ghost: X-rayed. Soap: They took my blood away for science! Ghost: Cholesterol tests. Soap: Si had his sinuses…removed? Ghost: Looked at. Soap: Some guy looked at my penis, touched it. That was weird. Ghost, cleaning blood off a knife: That guy wasn’t even a doctor.

-- Medic!Y/N: You think killing is hard? Try healing something. That is hard, that requires patience. Alejandro, watching them bandage his hand: Hm… Medic!Y/N: You can break something in two seconds. *vaguely motions to Ghost, then Price, then at a necklace Alejandro wears that came from Valeria* But it can take forever to fix it. Alejandro: …aye…well said.

-- Gaz: *being annoying and singing a song for the 10,000th time* Price: KYLE! Gaz: I’m watchin’ my tone, dunana. I ain’t talkin’ back, no, why? Cause I’ma get thrown, dunana-

-- Graves: You know, Ghost, real talk bro, you never say nothin’ when you’re around us. Why is that? Ghost: Cause I don’t fucking like you guys.

-- Enemy: I’m gonna send you to God. Y/N: God? I’m insulted you think I’d end up in Heaven. I work hard for my sins, thank you very much. Ghost: We are hostages right now, can you please not-

-- Valeria: And guess who gets to be my little helper.~ Y/N: It’s me, I’m the helper… Valeria: That’s right, you sure are.~ Alejandro: Alright that’s enough! Valeria: What? You don’t believe in positive affirmation?

-- Rudy: Me gustan los perros. Alejandro: Me gustas… Rudy: ….hm. Me gusta un hombre en el ejército. Alejandro: Aye? Rudy: Mhm. Alejandro: *chuckles* Me gusta mi mejor amigo. Rudy: Me gustas.

(This was poorly translated but listen, I tried for the gays)

-- Price: You actually were telling the truth. Valeria: I do that quite a lot, you people are always surprised.

-- Laswell: Don’t pull any of those stunts like you did last time. Fem!Y/N: I made an offering. Laswell: You dropped a dead mouse into that poor man’s lap. Fem!Y/N: Yes! Like a cat. Laswell: You are not a cat! Fem:Y/N: No…tragically, I am a woman.

-- Ghost: Some people are simply…better than others. Graves: You really think you’re that much better than me? Ghost: Oh I think we both know the answer to that.

--

(Needing to fake a date for a mission) Y/N, on the phone: Laswell, I don’t need help with dating. I’ve been on loads of dates! Y/N: *turns and whispers to Gaz* I’ve literally been on one.

-- Enemy: Think you can answer questions without the usual level of sarcasm? Y/N: If you can ask them without the usual level of stupid. Enemy: Where’s your captain and why hasn’t anyone been able to contact him? Y/N: I dunno, I’ve been here, haven’t seen him in days. Enemy: Is he drinking again? Y/N: What do you mean again? He never had to stop. Enemy: But he did have to slow down, is he drinking like he used to? Y/N: Alright, how bout this? Next time I see him, I’ll give’im the field sobriety test, okay? We’ll do the alphabet, start with F & end with U.

-- Graves: And that’s why I personally, don’t agree with your opinion. Soap: Okay, counter point- Graves: Valid argument? Soap: No. Pipebomb!

-- Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Y/N: Y/N: I’ma instigate. Gaz, lightly pulling them back: nnnnoooooooooo-

-- Y/N: Eeraaawr >:3 Gaz: What sound is that? Y/N: A dyianosaur Gaz: A what? Y/N: Dianoswaur. Gaz: Make the sound again. Y/N: Uurraawer Gaz: Oh you talkin’ bout them things from ✨Jerressi PerAHck✨ Y/N: AHAH! Ghost: I’m gonna lose it. Soap: Hush yer mouth, it’s cute. Lighten up ya big log.

-- Ghost: I think I’ve finally had enough. Y/N, getting his antidepressants: I think you’re full of shit.

-- Medic!Y/N: C’mon, stick with me, Ghost. Ghost: Might be time to follow my call si-OH FUCKING HELL WHY Medic!Y/N: You listen here you Fuckin’ bastard, I’m gonna love the absolute shit out of you until you never make a joke like that again. And then, if you still do it, I’ll have the team smother, smother, you in affection. And if you STILL don’t get it, THEN I’m gonna whoop your ass. Shut your perfect fucking mouth, you got that, soldier?! Ghost: ….since when did you get scary? Medic!Y/N: Adrenalin keeps people alive and sometimes we run out of epipens, had to substitute somehow.

-- Price: Now, sergent, what would you rather be? A lion or a panda? Soap: Captain, I’m me. Why would I want to be anything else? Price: I’m not sure you realize how psychologically healthy that is.

-- Ghost, pissed off: Sometimes I can’t stand you. Y/N, while walking away: Then kneel! And while you’re down there, occupy your mouth, you’d do better down there, QUIET, anyway!! Ghost: I-…… Soap: Oooooo…. Gaz: I- I-…they have no fear. None. Absolutely no survival instinct, no self preservation. None!

-- (Younger Y/N as in like…mid-late twenties. Also, this one is long. I might honestly make a lil oneshot with this one and I welcome anyone else to do the same) Y/N: John… Price: I know, I know. You love me. You’ve said it a thousand times and it should just stick, I just…can’t help but think about how you’re so… Y/N: *snort* Out of your league? Price: To put it bluntly. Y/N: Well, regardless of where I rank? I still love you. I’m going to love you for a long time, you’re stuck with me, ya sweethearted bastard. Price, fondly: Ah Dear, whatever will I do. Y/N: Yeaaaah. Besides! Even if I wasn’t completely and utterly, disgustingly, in love with you? …you are way too good of a sugar daddy to ditch. Price: Hah! Oh really? Why’s that? Y/N: Are you kidding?! Paid off house, paid off car, successful military captain, great manners, great dick, extremely attractive, good with kids, good cook, sexy voice. I could go on for awhile. Price: Oh now you’re just feedin’ my ego. Y/N: Yes, yes I am. Price: I’ll get cocky. Y/N: You’re sexy when you’re arrogant too, that doesn’t deter me. Price: *sigh* Far out of my league. Y/N: You’re a rank climber, I think you’ll keep up.

-- (NSFW but it's in a ha-ha funny way, based on a conversation I've had. Kink mentions) Soap: Look, I just...I need advice on how to spice it up in the bedroom. Y/N: Do you know how little that narrows it down? Gaz: I feel there are few options. Y/N: No there are a lot of options, it depends on your level of spice. I dunno your boundaries wit'cha man! Soap: I just need something! Y/N: THERE ARE A LOT OF THINGS! Get some handcuffs, grab a vibrator, TRY ANAL, I don't fucking know! Gaz: *chokes on drink* Soap: Okay, listen- Y/N: No, you listen. Rule of thumb with kinks? It's a mountain and there are three kinds of people on it. People who don't wanna climb, people who want to climb but choose not to, and people who stay climbing. You reach a level of kinkiness and you stay there. You can't go back down the mountain. Me, personally? I have chosen to stop climbing because I know I'll get worse. I'm choosing to stay on my part of the mountain. Where you wanna climb is up to you. Soap: Where do I climb then? Y/N: The beginner's trail is fuzzy handcuffs, orgasm control, and mirror sex. Soap: This is the weirdest advice I've ever gotten. Y/N: It's my specialty.

-- (Follow it up with an asexual joke) Graves: Are you fighting the urge to make out with me right now? Y/N: Not really, I'm really into this pizza though. Soap, in the back: Aw they burnt my fuckin' cookies! Assholes. Y/N: Karma. Soap: It is not my fault I ate the last slice of cake, I didn't know it was yours- Y/N: IT WAS LABELED! Soap: I DIDN'T SEE IT!! Graves: *slowly backs away*

-- Y/N, holding up a coffee pot: Anyone want more coffee? Price: No, we've all had ours. Y/N: *takes off the lid* Cool. Gaz: What are y-NO! Y/N: *chugging from the pot* Ghost: ...This is the peak of mental illness. Price: PUT THE DAMN POT DOWN! Soap: This is the scariest thing I've ever seen them do- Y/N: *fighting to finish the coffee as Price tries to get it away from them*

I’m absolutely feral at the thought of being filled by John Price. Just imagine him plowing into you whispering about how he is going to fill you and getting you pregnant so you’re a mama and he’s a daddy. He holds you in a press and angles you up further so his cum won’t leak out of you.

He’d call you a good girl as you cum around his cock. You will be called such a good mama/mommy. He thinks about you getting round and your tits getting heavy with milk for your little ones. 💖🥺

(Slightly inspired by @chamomiletealeaf I absolutely adore you.🥺🥺💖💖