Sending Johnny Voice Messages While You're Lying Down In Bed After A Shitty Day Because He's Deployed

when i was a homeless 20-year-old i was rejected from multiple housing opportunities because i had 5k in medical debt from going to the ER after getting roofied and sexually assaulted (i was unconscious so calling 911 was not my decision) and UHC denied my insurance claim. so yeah, i'm actually deriving an enormous amount of pleasure from watching health insurance CEOs snivel and hide like the heartless cowards they are. may those who profit from our suffering live in fear of those they seek to deny.

falls to my knees crying THAT FUCKING COUCH SNIPPET JM GOING TO EXPLODE

guys. I miss them. I miss harmless fun

I eat up harmless fun crumbs like nobody’s business

— puppy teeth 🦷 anon

I miss them too

toxic ex bf simon who sends you sweet lil vidzz

your heart perks, before soaring into the depths of your stomach when the soft pad of your thumb hits the light gray button. and the video starts, playing for you like a record on command.

it’s him. simon. but he’s not his usual dark, brood stature of a man. no he’s laid back, hand wrapped around the pretty base of his cock, pinky and ring finger laid over the soft of his balls.

“i want you,” he speaks, muted slightly from the distance he sits from the phone, eyes trained on the camera. “i miss you, baby, please?”

and his begging comes to a close, hand smoothing up the skin of his girthy length, and his chest shudders, muscles contracting as he pleases himself just for you.

and you’re watching in something of awe and disgust. taking in the video, studying him, his body. there’s new gashes, bone noticeable beneath his thick skin. he’s dropped pounds, face looking something of a tired wreck.

“i can’t move on, honey, i need you.” he huffs, voice strained as if he can barely even begin to speak the words. it’s like he’s reeling through the phone at you, hitting you in the heart and between your sweet legs with his fuzzy words.

“fuckin’ miss you so bad, come back to me, cmon, baby,” he’s gasping, thick fingers working their way up and down, up and down his cock in a quick, steady pace.

and when you look closely, you can see the crystaly tears that drip down his cheeks, glinting and sparkling beneath the dim light. it has you reaching into your panties, has your knees shifting together in a race of goosebumps.

“call me, baby, lemme talk to you, promise im different, ill be better for you, sweet girl.” and when you hear the grit of words, your finger swipes, before tapping the lil phone button on the top to send him a call.

we all been here?

Ghost wasn’t even looking for you two. He just needed to grab a goddamn med kit. That’s it. A simple in-and-out trip to the supply closet.

But the moment he opened the door, he knew.

Grunting. Breathing. Whispers. The thud of something hitting metal.

He paused in the doorway, completely still, staring into the dim room as his brain registered what he was seeing.

Soap. Shirt halfway off. Neck covered in bite marks. Mouth open in some silent, stunned expression of praise the lord and ruin me more. Hands gripping the edge of a crate like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

And you? Pressed against him. One hand buried in his hair, the other dragging slowly down his back, nails scratching like you were claiming territory.

You didn’t even look away when Ghost appeared. You just kept your body flush with Soap’s, breath brushing against his ear as you looked directly at Ghost and said,

“Occupied.”

Soap finally realized they weren’t alone, eyes wide as he choked out, “*Ghost—fuck—*this isn’t—”

Ghost held up a hand. “Nope.”

Just turned around and closed the door without another word. Stood in the hallway for a moment. Processing.

Then muttered, “They’re gonna burn this place to the ground and call it foreplay.”

He walked away. Found Gaz.

“Don’t go in the supply closet.”

Gaz blinked. “Why not?”

“They’re in there.”

Gaz paused. “Doing what?”

Ghost didn’t stop walking. “Pick a verb.”

Sevika x Male Reader headcanons!

• She leaves you for a woman.

sf: https://www.tumblr.com/tonsillessscum/769541848758910976?source=share

Uhm maybe this is too evil but. I’m thinking about getting a divorce from Price. It’s not angry and it’s not contested— in fact, it’s him who makes the suggestion.

You’ve been trying for a baby for years, with no results. And it’s put a strain on you both. Broken the love you shared. You can’t help but feel guilty— you wanted to have a child, but family was his dream. And you couldn’t give it to him. Blaming yourself just widened the divide wedging between you.

He insists you take the house. You’re the one who tried so hard for so long to make it home. Spent your time there alone when he was deployed. You sell it— not able to bring yourself to face the empty nursery, no matter how many coats of fresh paint it had.

Simon helped you move. As John’s right hand, it was almost like he was still with you. And it’s true— John had asked Simon to make sure you were alright. That you’d had everything you needed. But Simon would’ve done that whether he’d asked or not. He’d always been fond of you. Spent holidays with you both, helped you with Christmas dinners. He knew from the moment he met you why John had fallen in love with you. You just made it so easy.

He keeps visiting. Helping you unpack. Set things up. Do little fixes John used to take care of for you. Taking you out places so you don’t sit in the grief for too long.

It doesn’t take long for something to develop. Maybe something had always been there, like a dormant little seed in cold winter soil, waiting for a spring. It comes to a head right before he ships out for a deployment. The night after you sleep together for the first time is the best night’s rest you’ve had since the separation.

But a few weeks later, you don’t feel so well.

And two little lines look back at you from a tiny screen as you grip the bathroom sink to keep your balance.

'accidental baby daddy soap mactavish' aka the worst man in the world to accidentally knock you up after fucking casually a couple times. there's no such thing as personal space or boundaries or distanced co-parenting with him; he already broke his lease / sold his house. shows up on your doorstep with all his belongings in the world. you wouldn't let the bairn's dad sleep rough, would you? no, the couch won't do, doe, he needs a tempur pedic bed or his sciatica will act up. knocked him flat on his ass last time it flared up, so just let him in the bed. if you're cold, they're cold 'n all that shit.

Some old poly 141 art. i dont think i like this one too much but still. Eepy boys that were trying to watch a movie.

It would be so jarring dating Soap because he will so casually say shit like "spit in my mouth would ye bonnie?" with full sincerity at the pub. "The new nails are well braw... naw had a finger up my arse in a while hen so time tae break them in" when you are at a bloody wedding. "Dinnae take it personal LT, she's on the rag and I havnae given her head in over an hour so that's why she's bitchin'. Open up bonnie, let me make it better" as he is bullying his head between your thighs when you're supposed to be having a nice dinner at his Lieutenants house and you snap at Ghost.

Johnny just does not have an off switch nor do you think he understands the concept of public decency. But fuck he's so damn good to you and is so incredibly obsessed with making you cum that you just learn to live with the embarassment he puts you through.

ohhhh.... All those Pictures in my head from your Piercing HC's.. why do you give me more and more to dream about when I should Work?

But, the thought alone of running my tongue along those ladders, or bite Just above or below that Belly Piercing... Mhmm...

Anything Else? You fixed me with horny thoughts, i would Like to have more please.

Oughhhh

Ghost counting the rungs as you try to take all of him into your mouth. You try to placate the heavy push of his hand on the back of your head by laving your tongue against the remaining bars, doing your best to avoid gagging when he adjusts his hips. You whine when he tells you "that's three sweet'eart, four more." Because you know he won't let you up until you can feel the metal of his ladder scraping your throat.

Jerking your head down, surprising your gag reflex into submission and shushing you when you protest, gurgling and pushing at his thighs. "Four," he tells you, his voice rumbling straight between your legs, "swallow, swall- there you go." Petting your head like he's gentling an animal, not training your throat to stretch around his fat cock.

You go cross-eyed staring at the little jewel on his belly button piercing as he holds you at the base, the glint of it almost hypnotizing as you struggle to swallow around his thick length, making you fuzzy headed from something more than just a lack of oxygen...