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#soap headcanons
honestlyhiswife · 4 months
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Imagine johnny laughing at something SO HARD. He’s got his hand clasped over his mouth, he’s folding in half and even smacking his knees then wiping the tears away from his eyes from all the laughter. He’s genuinely in pain and short of breath just from pure laughter. Naturally, the team are all confused. What the fuck has got Johnny laughing so hard he’s clutching his chest and struggling to breathe? He turns his phone around and lo and behold:
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eilidh-eternal · 4 months
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Nasty Man™️ Johnny MacTavish is a jealous mf and he does not know how to handle it, like at all.
“I licked it, it’s mine,” but with your pretty cunt. In front of the whole team. Doesn’t want to share, just needs everyone to know without a shadow of a doubt that he did, in fact, lick it no one ever even questioned this, he’s just fucking insane.
You are not allowed anywhere near Gaz, even if he’s there with you. He knows Gaz is a smooth talker with a pretty face, sunshine and rainbows personality. When you all went out to the bar and he found you dancing with Gaz while he was getting drinks for everyone? Your ass was glued to the sticky faux leather of the booth for the rest of the night, made so by your own arousal. Humiliate him in public? You get the same treatment. “If ye want somethin’ t’ grind on so bad, it’s gonnae be my hand,” he growls, big hand cupping your cunt and the heel of his palm pressing hard against your clit beneath the table until you come.
It gets really bad around Price. He’s such a gentleman, always holding doors open for you, grabbing that mug from the top shelf in the kitchenette for you, makes a plate for you and then himself when you visit them on base. Johnny makes you sit in his lap and eat directly from his hand, makes you lick his fingers clean and suck on them for good measure. You’re not getting up until the plate Price made you is empty, until you’ve learned that Price may be a Nice Guy, but it’s Johnny who feeds and fucks you, just the way you like.
Ghost brings out a different sort of jealousy in Johnny. He sees the way you stare, knows that you’re curious about the massive Lieutenant with the mask. He wears the balaclava the rest of ghost team wore in Las Almas while he fucks you, bends you over the table in the briefing room and records you screaming his name. Makes you look right at the camera when you come on his cock. “When ye look at him, ye think of me. He cannae fuck ye like I can. Nothin’ special ‘bout his mask or his cock,” he sneers, and then he sends the video to Ghost.
Nasty Man™️ Masterlist
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prettyoatmeal · 5 months
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i know this is a long shot but HEAR ME OUT!
PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS can you do a TF141 reacting to when their girl asks to peg them. IM BEGGING YOU
TF141 and How They'd React to Reader Asking to Peg Them
A/N: I'm on it, anon. DON'T WORRY
Warnings: SMUT!!! Includes pegging ofc. Written with an AFAB reader with fem genitalia in mind.
NSFW UNDER CUT
Masterlist here!
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Price would be incredibly hesitant. I don’t think he’d actually agree to it. He’s very traditional. He’s normally the one fucking and believes it should stay that way. Maybe he’s thought about it before, maybe he hasn’t. TLDR, he doesn’t think he would enjoy it.
The furthest you would ever get to it is just fingering him. Of course it would take a bit to lay him back and have his legs spread, but you seemed so happy when he agreed to try something new with him.
Working him up wasn’t too hard, sucking him off to help comfort him, holding his hand when he got a little nervous. You could really feel his vulnerability radiating, never exactly being in this position before. But right as you push a slicked finger inside him, the all new feeling was too much and he backed out.
Yeah, it just isn’t his thing. But you were proud of him nonetheless for trusting you that much to just try. You make sure to suck him off good to make up for it.
Gaz I feel like would be the only one from them to be immediately for it. He’s probably fingered himself before, once giving himself a prostate orgasm that’s left him breathless and shuddering. He feels secure enough to bend over for his love.
Even if you’re just pushing your fingers inside him, he’s already begging you to fuck him.
“Gotta stretch you first, calm down.” But he’s pushing back against you with a shudder. He’s too eager, it makes you roll your eyes from how damn needy he can be. This man has no chill whatsoever.
Gaz back arches would go crazy, arching like a cat as the tip of your strap slams against that sensitive spot inside him. Has such a pretty and plump ass too so it’s hard to not claw at his flesh while he’s taking you from behind.
“F-Fuck.. right there, please. Right- mmfh!”
His eyes will roll back, his cheeks flushed as he asks you to ram his insides in no-mercy style. Kyle will actively bounce back on you, wondering to himself why he’s never asked you himself to do this earlier. It just feels too fucking good that he trears up and cries out for you to keep going.
“No! Don’t stop. Gonnacum, gonnacum, gonnacum!”
He gets so addicted to the feeling that it definitely becomes part of your routine, sometimes just wanting his pretty thoughts to be fucked out of his head.
I can see him coming home from duty one night and he’s just missed you so much. He’s like a dog in heat, begging you to fuck him again because he just needs you to take care of him so bad. Who are you to deny him when he’s asking so nicely? Good boys like Gaz deserve to get dicked down and have their backs blown out by their pretty little partner.
And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Ghost spits his tea out like a cartoon. I don't see him saying yes at first, very very reluctantly agreeing, but only to you fingering him. He isn’t used to being so vulnerable like that, but… just MAYBE he trusts you enough to not hurt him… pfft.. whatever.
Despite now nervous he feels, you know just how to calm him down. Your hands first run down his chest and stomach as you press small kisses along his lips and jaw. Running lower, you squeeze at his balls a few times before lubing your fingers up and gently pressing them against him.
“Relax, I’ve got you.”
His legs shake a little as you push them into his tight hole, his walls clenching around you. He would definitely not feel comfortable the first few times, or maybe even ever to take something as thick as your strap, but your fingers do him wonders for now.
He would definitely prefer you to move slowly, soft breaths leaving his mouth as he can’t help but dig his fingers into you and bury his flushed face into your neck. As he slowly becomes more and more comfortable with the feeling, you eventually hear him mumble into your neck, asking you to go a little faster.
His moans increase in volume, his legs threatening to close and trap your hand between his thighs every time you curl your fingers. But he’s loving it. He’s breathing heavily in your ear, his body shaking against you as his cock throbs and threatens to spill his cum on his tummy.
“Don’t.. don’t stop. Fuck, g’nna c-cum.. oh god-”
And it’s the best orgasm he’s ever had.
Soap wouldn’t be as eager as Gaz, but also not as against it as Price. Like Ghost, he’s in the middle.
“Seriously, Bonnie? Are you getting bored with me fucking you or what?”
He’ll prefer you take him in missionary first as you prep him. His face will scrunch up so beautifully when you push a finger inside him.
He squirms so much under you, trying to get comfortable. But once you curl your fingers, it only elicits a shaky moan from him as you press against his spongey prostate. And as you get the cue to finger fuck him, his moans become so cute and whiney. He wants to cum so bad just from your fingers, he gets almost sad when you’re forced to pull them out :(
He’s done with words once the strap on comes out. As his back arches against the bed and his legs wrap around your hips, his poor fucked out brain finally knows how it feels to be in your shoes. You know that you can’t feel it, but you wish you could just because of how deliciously he was tightening around the strap.
It’s only a matter of time until you need to slam a hand over his mouth to muffle his slutty moans.
“Mmh- Shit.. fuckfuckfuckfuck-!”
You don’t even need to touch his cock and he’s throbbing, leaking cum like a faucet.
He’s definitely asking for you to peg him again.
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I feel like this is going to flop so bad since I've seen NONE of these going around. But I need to finish all my drafts though so 😭 rip
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midnightarcheress · 11 days
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drabble // beach day with the one and only soap mactavish.
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"johnny, can't you be quiet for a moment?" you ask, putting dots of sunscreen on your boyfriend's back. you've tried to reason with him multiple times about the importance of being protected against solar radiation, but does he care? not in the slightest.
"cannae do it quicker?" he retorts, feet anxiously tapping the sand as you lather the cream on his shoulders.
you roll your eyes, finishing distributing the remaining white spots of the product and moving to his front. "look up for me," your index tilts his chin upwards, narrowed eyes meeting his eager blue ones, "just a second, love," you say, fingers gently spreading the sunblock on his forehead, nose, cheeks and neck.
he squeezes your waist repeatedly, a childish attempt to urge you to end his torture. with a peck on his lips, you put him out of his misery, "all done," and the man leaps out of his seat, wasting no time to dig in the sand.
"gonnae build a castle for mah princess."
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this appeared to me in a tiktok dream
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Shitpost
Soap in a relationship hc:
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eracrow · 1 month
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POV: Ghost and Soap met at the kindergarten
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Ghost was too shy so Soap introduced him to the others. 💙
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konigsblog · 2 months
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pervy-reader that bends over, allowing men to use a glory hole to fuck your slicken, drooling cunt...
pervy-reader that so desperately wants to baby trap one of the 141 members. :(
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iloveoldermen-posts · 3 months
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Innocent Reader X Protective 141 headcannon??
REQUESTS OPEN -> here MASTERLIST -> here
THE 141 TF REACTING TO SOMEBODY HITTING ON INNOCENT!READER
Simon 'Ghost' Riley Would go and stand behind you and place his hand on the small of your back. His scary dog privilege now applies to you as well now. Making the person hitting on you walk away immediately. Making his lips curl into a smile.
'Captain' John Price Comes up behind you and flings his arm over your shoulder, and you hold his hand in that position. "Is there an issue here?" The person hitting on you turns away and walks in the opposite direction quickly. Leaving you laughing with Price looking down at you with love filling his eyes.
Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick Goes straight past the person hitting on you and hugs you tightly, his hands landing on your ass. Turning you around so that he can stare holes into the person who dared hitting on you and show them that you are his.
Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish Goes behind the person hitting on you. "Thanks for keeping the partner busy". Goes past them and gives you a big fat kiss. Making sure the person hitting on you was looking the entire time just so that they got the hint 100% :)
Konig Would come up behind you and wrap his arm around your waist tightly, flashing his gun slightly with a fake smile plastered on his face. When the person hitting on you goes, he rolls his eyes and turns you to face him, whispering things in your ear that make your cheeks heat up.
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Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed. All interactions are deeply apreciated.
We reached 250 likes!!
TURNING INTO ONESHOTS. -> GHOST
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percy-puppy · 3 months
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Headcanon: Thinking of the 141!men having an afab!partner with body hair.
About: CoD Men || Task Force 141
CW: 18+ Blog/Post | MDNI, afab!reader, reader with body hair, pubic hair, talks about bullying in school, judgment, puberty, insecurity, sex (oral/reader receiving, PIV/penetrative sex, switch!dynamic, body worship, s&m), hair pulling, not proofread
A/N: Anyone else struggling with posting on the smartphone app? Like Tumblr? What's going on? Anyway, this is for my bestie who ranged about the lack of representation. @mothymunson 💕
🎀Price: Price is a hairy, hairy man. God, he is so fuzzy, and it's so hot. Obviously, he doesn't care if his partner is hairy, either. It would be hypocritical of him, really. In fact, he would be an encouraging force. It's lots of work to keep shaved and smooth, and should you feel comfortable with just no longer shaving, then why not? He is happy when you are, and just because society expects something doesn't mean you have to obey. Price would support it fully, showering you with praise as you unlearn the old “values” taught from a way too early age and drop the trauma all the comments in your puberty gave you when body hair became more prominent. He teaches you a new, healthy form of confidence and, in the shortest time, “It's just hair, love.”
🎀Soap: Johnny is… Let's be honest; that man is a feral mutt. He might shave sometimes, not often, though honestly, but body hair on his partner? He can't explain it, but that bush gets him going. He is one to drop the “the wilderness must be explored” sentence when you first get together and are insecure about his reaction. He will beg you to let him eat you out, swearing on everything that's holy to him that he doesn't mind your pubic hair at all. And, damn, he isn't lying. He doesn't care, although he does—It makes him feral. The following hours are spent with the scot’s head between your legs. Also, before you bother to worry, a hair on his tongue will just be removed, “It's locks, bonny. Happens sometimes,” he’d laugh, and go back to work, nose buried in your hair as he sucks on your clit.
🎀Gaz: That boy is always shaved. It's his personal preference. When you first mention your difference (cause a man with a negative reaction isn't even worth your time), he is surprised. It's not in a bad way, though. He just knows enough people are giving in to the pressure of shaving. He is curious, ashamedly so. You see, the curiosity effect when somebody tells you they have a piercing down there? That's what it feels like for him now. He’d sheepishly ask to take the next step, unsure what he even expects since it's just hair at the end of the day. But once you take things to the next level, it suddenly clicks. It's your confidence—the raw, unashamed, natural being. You're unashamedly yourself, every imperfection perfection, and your most potent weapon. When he hit puberty, he was insecure for a long time before he had his glow-up. He was never tall or beefy enough, just always picking himself apart by comparing himself to others. Today, he is confident as hell, but the 13-14-year-old boy he once was would be on his knees worshipping a person like you, just fully defying social expectations. He always felt a little bit like worshipping you, but your naked form bouncing on top of him absolutely breaks him. He babbles praises between panting and moaning, hands moving over every inch of your body. “You're so hot. Shit, don't stop, you're just so- fuck. Fuck me. God, please.” He did not know he was a switch, and all he needed was a confident partner.
🎀Ghost: Simon isn't nearly as hairy as the other men. He sometimes trims his pubic hair, but mostly, he just isn't hairy enough to even care about it. He also doesn't care about your hair. It's just hair. But at night, his sadistic side comes through. During sex, he will tug on your bush for fun, sometimes just shortly before slapping your tit, sometimes he’ll just pull and pull like a maniac while fucking into you. The delicious pain sends electric shocks through your sobbing cunt as he pounds you toward orgasm. Should you ever shave or trim it, he will most definitely pout a little as he lost his favorite toy. Thankfully it's just hair, it’ll grow back, and until then, he’ll focus on slapping your clit and pulling your nipples. It's okay. He’ll survive.
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rags-writes · 1 year
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When you accidentally bump into them.
Ghost-
You're looking at reports as you rush down the hall. Which knowing it isn't smart, but you're in a hurry and Capian Price needs them done. Double checking your work on the way to Price's office was the fast way to meet the deadline. Then suddenly you hit a brick wall. Falling to the ground, paper scattering around you as you glance up and your heart drops as Ghost stands above you.
 This man knows what his present does to people. The fear they get when he towers over them. He can see the fear in your eyes and he never hates what he does more than now. Frozen for a moment, as he doesn't want to make any sudden movement. Openings his month, wanting to ask if you're alright but nothing comes out. Being glad for the mask; he slow knees down.
 Of course, him kneeling cause you to panic, apologizing profusely as you gather the papers. Ghost hands you the pile, meeting your eyes and says. "Just pay more attention next time and hurry. Price doesn't like to wait."
 You nod, and basically run away as he stares after you, kicking himself.
Johnny "Soap" MacTavish -
You know he did it on purpose, cross your heart and whatever. You were just walk back from training and no was around, so you zoned out for a moment. Thinking about what to make for dinner, you are so hungry when you hit someone. Their hand grabbing your upper arms, making sure you were going to fall.
Looking up, seeing a smirking Scotsman looking down at you and he calls out. "Well, lass, mind watchin' were you going?"
Rolling your eyes at Soap, "Oh you poor thing, how long did you wait to ambush me?"
He gasp, one hand moves to clutch his chests. "Lass, do you really think so little of me?"
You just raise a brow at him and pull yourself from his grip, walking away. He stare after with a smirk on his lips.
Don't be afraid to make a request, here and come look at my other works.
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lovebeatriceplz · 7 days
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Soap! Who wasn't really sure what to expect from the medic who was joining the team. However, he was more than happy to introduce himself.
Soap! Who found you quite pleasant to be around. You were sweet, gentle and good at your job. This place needed a little eye candy anyways.
Soap! Who couldn't help but feel even the movements of your fingers. Every graze, every trace of his skin. You were simply doing your job, patching him up but it had his stomach doing flips.
Soap! Who falls into a mini (deep) delusion. Surely he was special, right?. There was no way his teammates received the same treatment, that level of intimacy and softness was for him only. Atleast, that's what he told Simon.
Soap! Who finds himself visiting the medbay for the most irrelevant reasons. He twisted his ankle? Medbay, He got a scratch? Medbay, He's feeling peckish? Medbay. It's really all an excuse to blatantly flirt with you.
Soap! Who only becomes more confident when you put up with it. Making bolder moves, grabbing your wrists when you try to apply an ointment, or leaning way closer than necessary.
Soap! Who thinks about you on missions, the safety of an entire nation is a lot of pressure to carry, so he worries about you're safety instead.
Soap! Who secretly beams when the squad refers to you as "Johnny's little nurse". It was even better when you tried to laugh off your embarrassment, begging him to tell them not to call you that, he wonders what else you'll beg for.
Soap! Who ends up with his hands under your vest and his lips... everywhere after a long mission. The door was probably locked, he's not too sure.
Soap! Who will always come back to you, because you're "Johnny's little nurse". His nurse, his girl.
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Soap having an introverted/shy bestfriend headcanons
pairing: Johnny "soap" mactavish x gn!reader
a/n: huge thank you to everyone who took the time to read or reblog my last post I actually nearly cried🫶🏼. also some of these are a bit longer than they should be I don't even know if they still count as headcanons lol.
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It definitely takes you a while to become friends. It literally took you weeks to speak more than a few sentences, so taking months to become close friends was no surprise.
He's so used to talking all the time and you just listening, at some point it was the only way you could have a conversation. When you started talking more around him, he got so quiet and listened so well even if it wasn't something important, he was just happy to listen to you.
Definitely takes notice of all the things you like, he wants to be so close to you, so he tries to learn about all your favorite things. First time he talked about your favorite movie Infront of you and saw how your eyes lighted up he decided he'd do it more. He also always brings you your favorite food/drink.
The first time you hugged him it was on his birthday. He's had a small birthday party, only invited close people (you being included of course), and after everyone left and you finally gave him his present, He hugged you so tight to his chest, arms wrapped around you. He was about to pull way remembering you told him you're not so comfortable with hugs, only to be stopped by you wrapping your arms around his waist. He tried to act cool after you broke the hug but he was screaming inside. His birthday became more special to him.
He was hoping hugs would become a regular thing after, but they didn't. Although, his disappointment is long forgotten when you start giving him little touches. A hand on his shoulder, your knee touching his, sometimes you'd even let him lay his head on your shoulder.
He always invites you to new places and tries to introduce you to his friends. He understands how you feel about social interactions and public places, so he doesn't pressure you. He just wants his bestfriend with him all the time):
So protective of you! the moment someone says something like "do you ever talk?" he's already in their face. No seriously, he won't leave them 'till you get an apology. You try to tell him that it's okay and it's no big deal but he disagrees, annoying his bonnie is in fact a huge deal.
Since you hate public places so much, he starts inviting you to his place to hang out. The more it happened the more used he is to it, and at one point "hanging out" is basically each of you doing their own thing but in the same room together. You're so quiet he forgets you're there, so when you suddenly say something, he lets out a scream. It makes you laugh so hard the first time it happens, so he starts doing it on purpose.
You once decided to go over your drinking limit due to social anxiety reasons. Johnny saw a whole new you that night. He felt a little guilty enjoying you being drunk, you laughed loudly at his jokes and told him so many stories about you he's never heard before, he couldn't help but enjoy it. That night before he dropped you off at your place, you grabbed his face touching it for the first time ever and told him "I wouldn't trade you for the world, johnny". He had to leave you as quickly as possible because he knew he was about to cry, and he did. He was just overwhelmed with all the love he has for you; he couldn't believe you actually felt this way about him.
You two are literally opposites people get shocked seeing you together. You two are surprised as well, neither of you could imagine being bestfriends with someone who is nothing like them, but you're so happy you are. You're besties forever. 🫶🏼
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eilidh-eternal · 4 months
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Nasty Man™️ Johnny MacTavish would cross every line and break every rule of a lap dance.
He'd see you from across the club and is already plotting ways to get you alone in one of the private rooms so he can have his hands all over you and help you “relax” 🥴
he's a lil’ creep :)
(18+ MDNI, dub-con/non-con themes)
You can’t even remember why you’re here.
It’s loud, bass thumping in the hollow of your chest, the warmth of writhing bodies weighs heavy in the air, and flashing lights seem to follow your eyes everywhere you look without reprieve. That’s why you don’t see him, don’t notice him staring at you from across the club, and now your friends are whistling and whooping at the dark stranger climbing the steps into your alcove.
“This is the guy I told you about,” Kari leans over to whisper-shout, cupping a hand in a feeble attempt to speak over the music pouring out of the speakers overhead.
Ah, that’s right. Kari wanted to see if the dancer from the near constant stream of videos she inundates the group chat with is here tonight. Seems tonight is her lucky night, because when he steps into your circle he pivots towards the two of you, long legs rippling the slash of cut muscle and tanned skin on display beneath ripped jeans slung low on his hips, obliques bunching and flexing with the subtle tilt of his hips with each measured step. Swaggering.
And he comes to a halt—right in front of you. It’s a long way up, craning your neck at an awkward angle to look up at the silhouette of him against strobe and colorful spotlights. You don’t know what you were expecting. The black leather harness straining over his chest and distressed jeans feel fairly standard, as does his physique and rugged handsomeness, but the warmth that ripples off his body feels like a riptide instead of the languid roll of lapping waves, dragging you under and filling your lungs with the scent of sea spray and brine, the musk of his sweat mixed with whatever he’s oiled his skin with.
“Ooooo girl!” Kari grips your arm, acrylic nails scratching over your skin, and it pulls you out of your dumbfounded stupor enough for you to register the hand he’s holding out to you. “If you don’t go, I will!”
Go? With him? Where would we-
“Ye look a bit overwhelmed, lass. Think somethin’ more… private, might be your style.”
Oh…
Kari snakes her arm between your back and the tufted faux leather of the bench and bodily pushes you forward to the edge of your seat, towards his outstretched hand, and you’re caught wholly off guard when gentle fingers hook under your chin, tipping your head back at an uncomfortable angle to meet his gaze. 
The brightest blue of a searing flame feels gelid in comparison to the heat that dances and flickers in his eyes, and they feel sharp as knives against your skin, boring into you, slicing through layers of trepidation and apprehension to get to the core of you. 
“Promise ye wilnae regret it.” The pad of his thumb brushes across your lower lip, a slow, exploratory movement that sends a shudder trickling down your spine.
Goading shouts of ‘Go!’ and ‘Get some, girl!’ permeate the hazy bubble you’re floating in with him, echoing and bouncing off of flimsy boundaries.
“I- I don’t know… You should take Kari, she-” You’re silenced by the press of his thumb to your lips again, mouth still parted on half-spoken words, and you can feel the swipe of his flesh across the front of your teeth.
“-She’s not the one who needs help relaxin’. You are,” he finishes for you, and it sounds more like a command than an observation. The fingers under your chin tug upwards, straining the muscles of your neck, and you lift subconsciously from your seat to ease the tension. He takes advantage of this and slots a hand under your arm, pulls you up and firmly against him, and turns your head to the side to whisper low in your ear, “I’ll take good care of ye, lass. Dinnae need to worry.”
There’s a collective gasp from the group around you, excited squeals and peals of laughter that ring out over the music. ‘Go!’ they all chant in a cult-like mantra. Go to the private room with the handsome stranger.
Go to the private room where the lights don’t hurt your eyes and the music isn’t so loud.
His hand still holds your face, cups your jaw to draw your attention back to him, and the hand on your ribs has drifted down to your waist, thumb rubbing circles over the fabric of your dress.
“Ok…” you cede, voice a meek whisper and eyes darting away from his to settle on his lips, feeling too scrutinized, laid bare, under their watchfulness.
It shouldn’t be possible but his smile is somehow brighter than the flashing lights, disorienting enough that you blink a few times until the spots across your vision fade. The hand at your waist slides easily around you, tucking you into his side as he leads you away from the alcove, through throngs of patrons and dancers towards the roped off rooms at the back of the club with velvet lined walls and thick curtains across each doorway.
He guides you down onto the sofa that wraps around the entirety of the room, downy upholstery tickling the back of your legs as he draws the curtain closed, and your eyes mimic the motion with a gentle sigh as you sink into the softness that dampens the sound beyond the room, filters out the harsh light in favor dim ambiance. 
Maybe he’s right. Maybe you just need to sit here for a moment away from…. Well, away from all of it. Take a moment, and just-
“Och, look at ye… just need a bit of quiet, hm?” The low purr of his voice right in front of you causes you to jolt, eyes snapping open to find him knelt down at eye level with you, arms braced against the sofa on either side of your knees. 
You start to apologize but he shakes his head, one big hand sliding over your knee in a soothing gesture. 
“None of that. Here to help ye relax, bonnie.” His hand drifts higher up your leg, strong fingers kneading at the supple flesh hidden beneath ruched fabric, and you think distantly that this feels more intimate than a private dance should. “Close those pretty eyes and just focus on the way it feels. Can ye do that for me?” 
In the dim lighting the warmth in his eyes blazes bright and fervent with an eager insistence, an illuminating display of hunger and want that burns through your nerves like wildfire.
You take a deep, steadying breath and let your eyes fall closed once more, and the answering growl that rumbles in his chest in response to your submission pools unbidden warmth between your legs.
“Good girl, so good for me. Gonnae take such good care of ye.” Something warm and hard presses against your legs, and before you have time to think about how good that feels, both of his hands find the back of your knees and pull. They force your knees apart, yank you forward to the edge of your seat so that he’s knelt between your legs. 
He clicks his tongue at the flutter of your lashes, eyes trying to open and make sense of the jarring repositioning of your lower extremities, and says, “‘S okay, keep ‘em closed. Just need t’ get a bit closer.” It is a dance afterall. But still, the notion that something about it isn’t quite what it should be festers at the far reaches of your mind.
“Give me yer hands.” It’s softer this time, his voice when he makes the request, but the demand and expectation there is clear–he’s leading, and you’re following. With tentative movements you reach out blindly in front of you until you feel the warmth of his hands enveloping and guiding yours, placing them against something rough that scratches between your palms.
His face, you realize, as your thumb brushes over the stubble on his jaw, tracing the strong line of it from his chin up to his ear. The hair is short there too, shorn close to his scalp, but it feels softer, pleasant against your fingertips. He hums, whether in approval or simply in reaction to your clumsy exploration you can’t decipher, and you can feel the way it vibrates in his throat against your hand lingering on his jaw. 
Lost in the new sensation of him you don’t immediately realize where his hands have settled on you, palms rough with callouses gliding over exposed skin and up the expanse of your thighs to capture your hips, long fingers only just grazing your rear. He pulls you closer, closer to the edge, and your arms instinctively wrap around his shoulders, seeking balance and support from the broad expanse of them. 
With his hands splayed across your ribs on either side he presses his face into your neck, dragging his nose up towards your jaw and breathing in long and deep, the shuddering exhale of his breath zapping against your sensitive skin in tantalizing currents.
“Had my eyes on ye all night,” he murmurs, and you can feel the brush of his lips against skin that's begun to warm beneath his touch. 
Odd, you think, for a patron to catch the eye of a dancer. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? A lot of this should be happening inversely, or perhaps not at all. It feels like a violation of the rules, a breach in etiquette, to have so much contact with him–to be touching him.
“Need to know, pretty thing. Need to know… what ye taste like.” He’s panting when he voices that particular desire, voice rough and breathless, and it feels funny that he should be the one short of breath when you haven’t taken one since he put his hands on you, still holding onto the dwindling supply of air and withering sense of propriety. 
This… this should not be happening, you think as he tips you back, big hands pushing you down onto the couch again and this time your eyes do more than flutter, opening wide as your back meets the cushion beneath you.
“Sir, I- this isn’t what-”
“I ken it’s not what ye thought it would be, bonnie. Doesnae change the fact that it’s what ye need,” he cuts you off, gruff and adamant in his assessment of you.
What you need? You don’t need this. The privacy is nice, yes, and he’s certainly a welcome sight, but this isn’t a dance. This isn’t what you agreed to.
He must be able to see your confusion, the warring thoughts in your mind written on your face as plainly as a line drawn on a battlefield. How your mind struggles to reconcile the sudden shift. How that line in sand has been trampled beyond recognition and you don't know which side of it you're standing on anymore. He has to know because he laughs, a warm flutter of breath ticking across your inner thighs.
The gasp that tears from your lungs when his teeth sink into the meat of your thigh, fanning dormant embers of desire you're only now becoming aware of, only seems to amuse him further. Makes his lips, pulled apart in a grin, vibrate against your skin before biting you again. You try to pull away from him but he curls a massive arm around your leg, holding you firmly in place for his tongue to lave over the imprint of his teeth on your skin.
“Just as sweet as she looks,” he remarks, more to himself than you, and his hands push the fabric of your dress up past your hips. You squirm in his grasp but he just wraps the other arm around you and coos sweet sounds between your legs, hooks them over his shoulders and clamps his hands around your hips once more. “Jus’ need some attention, hm? Poor girl, cannae breathe with these, can ye?”
Is he… talking to your pussy?
You get your answer when you feel the hot press of his mouth over the thin scrap of lace.
What the fuck is happening?
Not normal. This is not normal. This should not be happening.
It makes your head spin, the steady stream of realization that trickles in through the haze of… You don’t want to admit what you’re feeling. Don’t want to admit that amidst your panic and confusion, how suddenly the situation escalated, you never said no. 
You aren’t saying no. You should be saying no.
“Such a pretty wee cunt,” he lilts as a hand trails down and pulls your panties to the side, revealing the most intimate part of you to him. 
You can feel your body's betrayal of your emotions, the cooling sensation of his breath against the slick gathering between your thighs. It sends tumultuous sparks of pleasure up your spine and makes your fingers flex against the couch beneath you, seeking purchase and finding none. He coos at this, digs his fingers into your hips and presses his lips to your folds like he’s kissing your mouth, tongue flicking out to taste your slick and teeth nipping at the soft flesh. 
It’s maddening how good it feels, how tormented you are about even remotely liking it. He’s taken you here under false pretense and forced himself upon you. You should be angry with him. But it's hard to separate the confusion from the adrenaline, the fear from the lust that addles your senses.
“Ye’re thinkin’ too much. Relax.” His voice is rough, pitched low and graveled by his own desire, and he digs his thumbs into your hip flexors, smoothing out the muscles wrought with tension. “‘S’posed to feel good, bonnie. Let me take care of ye, work ye over how ye need.” 
You open your mouth to protest, to say someone might hear, might walk in and see you, separated by only a curtain from the rest of the club. The words die on your tongue when he cards his through your silken folds in one broad stroke, warm and wet and so fucking good, illiciting a string of breathy moans in place of your objections. A growl of assent rumbles in his chest again, rocking through you in wicked bolts, nerves firing in tandem with the movements of his tongue lapping at your entrance like a man starved. 
Despite how your mind still kicks and thrashes, desperate to pull your head above water and think clearly, your body can't help its response to him, surrendering to the undertow that pulls  you further into the hazy depths of pleasure with each fervent swipe of his tongue. 
“Tha’s it sweet girl, doin so good.” He has no right, none at all, to make you feel this way. Warm and wanting, squirming closer, trying to find more friction. He doesn’t deserve the sniveling whimpers that crawl up your throat, the hands that blindly seek the shock of messy hair to pull him closer and beg for more.
And he gives it to you, focuses his attention on your aching bundle of nerves in tight, precise circles, coaxing you closer to the swell that’s building at the base of your spine.
“Gonnae come for me?” His teeth wrap around your clit and you keen, cry out wantonly at the sudden sharpness of the sensation, the additional pressure, and a litany of yes’s flows forth from lips parted on a moan.
He’s relentless in his pursuit of your climax. Desperate, even, to feel your body go taut with pleasure, pressing his face so far between your legs you wonder if he can even breathe. Each flick of his tongue, scrape of his teeth, pushing you closer and closer until the tension breaks, a cresting wave of pleasure crashing over you and drowning your senses in liquid fire.
He works you to the point of overstimulation, until the drag of his tongue feels like a blade against your skin and your thighs burn from the scrape of his stubble. Only then, does he give you a reprieve, panting when he pulls back and peppers kisses over the raw skin.
“Such a good girl, did so well for me. Knew ye’d be good for me, bonnie.” He gathers you up, rights your undergarments and pulls your skirt back down your thighs before he helps you sit up, and his hand feels warm against your cheek, thumb swiping away the mascara running in inky trails down your face. “Gonna get ye some water, dinnae move,” he murmurs against your temple, lips pressed against your skin in a comparatively chaste kiss before all that warmth pulls away and you're left on your own. 
You couldn’t go anywhere if you wanted to, knees too weak to even think about moving off the couch, lest you look like a wobbling faun stumbling back to your friends. But when the curtain opens, bright light from a flashlight shining into your eyes, you panic, eyes closing against the offending light and you push up onto your feet. You don’t stay up very long, however, as a wave of dizziness crashes into you full-force, sending you back down onto the couch in a clumsy heap.
“Oh, shit- are you alright? Hey,” The man in front of you crouches down, hands on your shoulders to hold you upright. He has a badge on his shirt. Security. “Do you know where you are?”
You rattle off the name of the club and some of the worry bunching his brows lessens. 
“Have you had anything to drink?”
“He’s getting me water.”
“He? Your boyfriend?
“The dancer, his name-” You never did get his name, from him or Kari. “-he has a… a harness? And jeans. I think he has a mohawk too.” There's a funny look on his face now, like he doesn’t really believe you.
“Honey, we don’t have any dancers here tonight that look like that.”
©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.
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prettyoatmeal · 5 months
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TF141 Taking Care of Sick Reader!
A/N: Guys I'm so sick right now. This cold has hit me like a truck at full speed. I literally slept 13 hrs today?!?!?!?!?!? So lets go guys, sick HC's because I need some comfort.
Masterlist here!
***************
Price just doesn't care because he rarely ever gets sick. Whenever you catch a cold, he's just unfazed because he knows his body well.
This man will PAMPER you. He'll cook you whatever you're craving, and if you're not hungry, you're getting force fed a few cups of broth just so there's something in you.
He'll run you a bath with the soap you love so much, making sure it's nice and steamy in the way you like it. And while your nose his clearing up from the steam, he's massaging your shoulders and the back of your neck and wherever you ask him to. Because he'll be damned if his love has to spend one more second with their body aching.
Taking medicine with him is a chore for both of you. Him because he has to deal with your stubbornness, and you because liquid medicine tastes awful and theres no getting around it. He's just there holding the spoon with the burgundy coloured syrup and you're turning away every time he gets it close to your mouth.
"Sweetheart, I know it tastes awful but it's only here to make you feel better."
Ends up bribing you with taking you out to your favourite restaurant when you're better, but lets face it, he would've taken you anyway.
"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
And once you've finally taken it, disregarded the disgusted look on your face, he's actively kissing you on your cheeks, your forehead, maybe your lips as well despite how much you try to pull away from them. But you give in of course. He's only looking out for you and you love him too much.
Gaz I think would be a bit of a germaphobe at first.
Illness on the battlefield? Sure, he can deal with that, who cares Sickness at home?? Nope, the antiseptic spray is coming out and getting sprayed onto every surface of your flat.
You're not getting out of bed until you're sure you're fine because he'll be damned if he catches it from you. He's making sure every second of the day that you're fed, you're hydrated, you're comfy.
If you ask him very nicely, he'll let you cuddle up to him if you promise to not sneeze on him. But when you're finally in his arms, he sees your flushed face, your bleary eyes, the way you cling onto him so tightly even though you're so weak, fading in and out of sleep and he feels himself falling in love all over again.
"Poor baby. I'll take care of you, don't worry."
It happens every single time, it's hilarious. His mind changes every single time. Even if you sneeze on him, you'll get nothing more than a slight scolding as he holds a tissue up to your nose.
Medicine is different with him. Mixes it with your hot tea knowing just how much you hate taking it. If you question why it tastes so weird, he blames it on the temperature distorting the flavour and your messed up taste buds.
And it works, you never question it again.
After that, he'll turn your favourite show on just as background noise and it isn't long until you're falling asleep on top of him.
Ghost is not letting you lift a finger. If you stand up to go get something to eat or drink before he deems you of proper health, he's sweeping you off your feet and laying you back into bed.
"I can do things by- achoo! -by myself."
"No you can't. Stay put, lovie. I'll get your plate for you."
Doesn't want to make it seem like he's babying you.. but he definitely just is.
Simon is normally really good with letting you have your independence, he never wants to make it feel like you don't have a choice. But in times like these where you need to rest, he is having absolutely none of it and there's nothing you can do other that yourself be dragged back to your room.
This man will also chase you around the flat to make sure you take the medicine because you better get through this, and on his watch, you will be.
"Open up, Princess." while you keep turning your head away. Much like John, he definitely needs to bribe you with the shoes you saw on the way home one day or that new restaurant that opened a week ago. And only then you finally take it, gagging at the chemically taste.
After that, you will constantly be swaddled in warmth no matter what. Whether it be him since he's pretty much a radiator himself, a hot bath, or a million blankets and plushies. He just wants you as comfortable as possible for your weakened state.
For baths, it's almost certain he will join you. He'll let you lean back on him as he massages your shoulders, your arms, your thighs and legs. And you're left so dizzy and hazy because he's soothing your aching body so well.
He probably catches it a week after you, once you're already better and then it's your turn to take care of him :3 and you know just how Simon feels about being pampered and looked after.
Soap would be sick with you but stubborn as ever to let you take care of him.
He's just way too touchy and kissy and feely when you're infected, it's awful. Makes fun of you for having a bad immune system even though his is just as bad, if not worse.
"Shut your gob, Bonnie. I won't catch it. it's just a wee cold."
He catches it and it was more than just a 'wee cold'. You're both so weak, bodies throbbing and aching all over but he's still determined to make you his priority.
Going to the bathroom is a hassle because when you go, he'll go. He can't leave his love alone, not in this state! He'll stand outside the door like a cat does, just waiting.. and waiting.. and oh! You've accidentally opened the door on him because he can barely pay attention to whatever's in front of him.
To make up for it, you help ice his forehead.
He'll cook for you, infecting the kitchen with his boy-germs. But it's great because he can just put a few cups of broth up to a simmer and drink it with you on the couch.
Once it's time to take medicine, you both chicken out because it just tastes so gross. But knowing you have to take it, you made a deal to take it at the same time. You're both disgusted but clink your mugs together and use your tea as chasers.
Cheers!
Will sneeze on you more than once by accident. He's gross but we love him.
He definitely tries (keyword is tries) to stay awake long enough for you to make sure you're peacefully sleeping through your sick, but he definitely gets knocked out the moment he cuddles up against you.
***************
GRAHHHHH I'm so sick I'm going to bed. Cheers guys, goodnight
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blckbrrybasket · 2 months
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ᯓ★ 𝐒𝐨𝐚𝐩 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
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MDNI
SFW
- Soap listens to The Northern Boys religiously.
- Soap is a firm believer in gold star stickers. He can and will be bribed with them.
- Soap has the coldest feet known to mankind and constantly puts them on everyone. No one is safe.
- Soap will do something dumb or cheeky and grin at someone until they notice what he did. (Ghost is usually the victim of this)
- Soap jumps up and smacks the door frame even when he can just reach up to tap it. He stumbles more times than not when he does this. (Ghost comes behind him and just raises his arm to hit the frame)
- Soap is an avid apple juice lover, but NEVER eats whole apples. He’ll strictly eat apple slices or drink apple juice.
- Soap mindlessly does the angry mom lips when he’s focused on something or spacing out. He also sticks the tip of his tongue out the corner of his mouth but accidentally bites it.
- At night Soap stretches and sticks his feet out of the blankets then jerks them back because ‘something might touch grab in the night.’ When he was a kid he refused to get off the bed at night so the ‘bed monster’ wouldn’t get him. He stills shuts the lights off and runs to his room.
- Soap turns around all the stuffed animals you own when you’re going to have sex. He also covers their eyes, or where their ears would be, at anything he deems to be unholy. Most the time its when you’re playfully cursing at him.
- Sprawls out on any surface; floor, bed, couch, you name it and his entire body is covering it. Even you. He’s a big guy, perfect to be your blanket! (Please let him be your blanket he gets so happy when you do)
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SFW (serious)
- Soap was catholic for a long time as a kid. He had a hard time sitting still during services which led to him getting into trouble often. Nowadays he still labels himself as Catholic but he doesn’t actively practice anymore. He isn’t sure if he can after what he’s done in the battlefield. If Soap took the time to sit down he’d realize he isn’t very religious, but he still wears a cross necklace. He feels like he needs to.
- While he likes keeping things lighthearted he understands the importance of being serious. If you have a problem he jumps on trying to fix it immediately, slipping a joke or two to lighten the mood, but he never undermines your feelings.
- When he gets home from being deployed he needs to take the first day to be near you. If you’re on the bed or couch you will not be getting up for hours. When you do he has his arms around your waist and shuffles after you. Soap is a lot quieter, but is usually closer back to normal the next day. He needs to grow back into being himself at home.
- Soap enjoys being the funny friend but when he slowly realizes to some people that’s all he’ll ever be he hates it. He so badly wants to be seen as a multilayered human being, but he feels that he’ll only be seen as the “funny/impulsive one.” Soap isn’t proud of his impulse issues. It reminds him of his dad.
- Soap is a huge family man. Lots of sisters, close to his mum, yet when his dad left he wasn’t too torn up. There were too many mixed feelings to navigate it. Some nights when he was younger he laid awake loathing his dad for leaving. Other nights he wanted the ideal version of his dad that had once been in his head to be real. No one took the absence easy, but if he said it didn’t bother him still, he’d be lying.
- ADHD. He was undiagnosed as a kid and got into trouble frequently, but when it didn’t go away it became a problem. Eventually he was diagnosed with ADHD and it explained some of it. Soap has trouble navigating with it. He can be too upfront sometimes and has scared off a few people by not picking up on social cues. Soap truly doesn’t mean to and it becomes one of those memories he thinks of late at night, filled with regret. On those nights he longs to be ‘normal’ or adjacent to.
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NSFW
- Soap is the easiest to get hard out of 141. He has a high sex drive, but not to the point its overbearing. You want to fuck? He’s always down.
- He’s also the most open to new things. Soap tends to get rough sometimes, but he always knows the line. Anytime he wants to be rough he walks through whats good and not. It’s honestly funny seeing him clasp his hands on his lap all serious like when he asks if he can fuck you rough.
- He craves to hit it raw. This man is the definition of “doggy style, sideways, frontwards, upwards, backwards, upside down, tilted, 69, from the back, 360 degrees no condoms, skin on skin.”
- Give him an inch and he’s running a mile. You mention a toy you want or a kink you want to try out? He’s on it!
- Soap does have a small secret though…and if you request for him to dress up in a pretty lingerie set you’d discover it. The delicate lace straining against his bulging muscles as he squirms to not rip or tear it. Chefs. Kiss. It’s one of the quickest ways to get him to sub. He’s so pretty he doesn’t want to go to waste!
- He’s lowkey nasty - in the way that if your makeup or hair isn’t wrecked he hasn’t done a good enough job. Soap doesn’t care how ‘messy’ you look in his eyes you are as beautiful as ever. When tears of pleasure collect in your eyes he could cum from that alone.
- Have I mentioned yet that he can cum untouched? It’s happened multiple times where you’ve talked a big game only to end up in bed with him shooting ropes of cum across the sheets at you kissing his neck. Don’t worry though, he recovers quickly and has stamina for days. He would never leave you hanging.
- He does aftercare, there’s no way would he wouldn’t, but he also is quick to fall asleep. Once he’s set you up and made sure you’re doing the best you can he’s out. If you turn away for one second you’ll hear snores coming from your side, where he lays on the bed.
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lunarw0rks · 8 months
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asking the task force boys to sit on your back because the pains having been PAINING lately
A/N: extremely relatable, anon. my joints sound like rice crispies at the ripe age of 18 :D i included alejandro and könig in this, too.
『♡』 masterlist ♡ rules ♡ ask box Warning(s): sfw, established relationship, hurt/comfort??, gn!reader
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
『 simon, gaz, and soap would actually do it, or something similar 』
♡ well, simon probably wouldn't be able to sit on your back without breaking your spine. he'd probably make you lay flat, instead, and use his knee to knead the knots and aches. "I can't go harder, love. you'll snap." if you insist; he'll give the smallest bit more of pressure, flinching if your back cracks. but given your sighs and moans of relief, he's done something correctly, right?
♡ soap would probably tease you about it first, but not refuse. you'd just successfully stroked his ego, though, so he'll never let you live it down. instead of sitting, he would have you on your stomach, straddling your waist as he firmly presses between your shoulder blades and the small of your back. an amateur chiropractor with shockingly gentle hands, "how was that?"
♡ gaz had probably asked you to do the same before. sometimes the weight of someone else is the only thing that relieves his aches from hours of carrying heavy gear. with you, though? instead of sitting, he would press your back to his chest, arching your back and massaging it until the inflamed muscles calmed. "christ, yours cracks more than mine, babe."
୨♡୧ ⋆ ୨♡୧
『 price, alejandro, and könig would give you a massage instead 』
♡ even if your back isn't bothering you, chances are price is already massaging your muscles. it's a habit, eventually. your waist, your shoulders, your thighs, and now your back. he tells you to lie down, and it's not a suggestion, either. "relax your shoulders for me, sweetheart." he uses his thumbs the most, pressing down on the most irritated muscles and kneading them until you feel the pressure more than the pain.
♡ alejandro, similar to price, is insanely touchy. he probably noticed your back bothering you before you even asked him, so you found yourself in bed quicker than you could protest. "lie down, let me help." his calloused fingers brush along your bare back, sometimes rubbing circles or just stroking the areas that ached the most. "your muscles are too tight, you need to relax tonight. that's an order, amor."
♡ yet another endearing factor of könig, how gentle he could be despite his size. you knew that, obviously, but his massage skills were on another level. his large hands perfectly cover every bit of achy muscle; kneading and caressing. if you even try to thank him, he'll shut you up. "no talking, schatz. never thank me for making you feel better."
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