Top Posts Tagged with #johnny cod

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When you blow johnny and just keep gagging and choking he'll most likely laugh at you. But because you don't just let things slide–that man needs to be put in his place anyway–you pull out one of your dildos, and tell him to suck it. He laughs incredulously at first, though not totally opposedto the idea. But once he saw the expression on your face he knows you're serious. And he was never one to turn down a challenge.

Safe to say he's gagging like a bitch. Can barely take half the thing without tears stinging at his eyes. And if you're mean you tell him, "well, that's pathetic, baby." In a mocking tone. (lt makes his cock twitch dw) and if you're even meaner you decide to 'help out'. Forcing the toy down his throat with your hand. Do it over and over. Like he does when fucking your throat without consideration. He's a mess by the end, sweaty, eyes red with tears flowing from them, drooled all over the toy, down on himself like some mutt. But some time during it he came without even being touched.

He doesn't make fun of you again.

•18+ Adults Only

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Snow day.

୨୧⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅୨୧⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅୨୧ ⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅ ୨୧

The first time it snows on base, you almost miss it.

It’s mid-November, the kind of cold that bites at your nose and creeps under the sleeves of your jacket. Everyone had warned you about winters here; how they’re brutal, gray, and endless..but no one mentioned the snow. Or maybe they did, in passing, the way people talk about things they’ve always known, assuming everyone else has too.

You grew up somewhere winter was just… colder rain. Frost on the grass if you were lucky. Ice on puddles you could crack with your shoe. Snow was something you saw in movies, on Christmas cards, or in pictures online.

Not something that just… fell out of the sky.

You’re halfway across the base yard when something cold taps your cheek.

You flinch, hand coming up instinctively, like someone tossed a pebble at you. But when your fingers brush your skin, they come away damp.

“…What?”

Another one lands on your sleeve.

Then another.

You look down.

Tiny white specks dot the dark fabric of your jacket. Soft. Delicate. Already melting into dark pinpricks.

Your brain takes a moment to catch up.

Your eyes slowly lift to the sky.

And then you see it.

Snow.

Not heavy, not the thick storms people complain about—just soft, drifting flakes, floating down lazily like feathers.

Your mouth falls open.

“Oh my god.”

You spin in a slow circle, watching them fall. Onto the pavement. Onto the parked vehicles. Onto the metal railings and rooftops.

“OH MY GOD!”

You drop the paperwork you were carrying without even noticing, hands stretching out in front of you like you’re trying to catch the sky itself.

Your gloves are off before you even realize what you’re doing.

Snowflakes land in your palm.

They’re so small. So light.

And they vanish almost instantly.

You gasp like someone just showed you a magic trick.

Across the yard, Soap is the first to notice you.

He’s halfway through lighting a cigarette when he pauses, lighter hovering in the air.

“…What’s she doin’?”

Gaz follows his line of sight.

You’re standing in the middle of the yard with your arms out like a kid in a cartoon, head tilted back toward the sky, spinning slowly while snow lands in your hair.

Soap squints.

“Is she… dancin’?”

Ghost, leaning against the wall nearby, glances up.

He watches for a few seconds.

You laugh—an unfiltered, breathless sound that carries across the cold air.

Then you shout.

“IT’S SNOWING!”

Soap blinks.

“…Aye.”

You whip around toward them like they’ve just confirmed the existence of aliens.

“IT’S SNOWING!” You repeat, just as enthusiastically.

Gaz snorts.

“Yes. That does tend to happen.”

But you’re already running toward them.

Actually running.

You skid slightly when your boots hit the damp pavement near them, breath puffing in white clouds.

“LOOK!”

You shove your hands out toward them like you’re presenting evidence.

Snowflakes land in your palms.

“They’re so tiny!”

Soap stares at you for a long moment.

“…Have you never seen snow before?”

You look at him like the answer should be obvious.

“No!”

Silence.

Soap glances at Gaz.

Gaz glances at Ghost.

Ghost is staring at you.

“…You’re serious..?” Gaz says slowly.

“Dead serious!”

Another snowflake lands on your nose.

You don’t even notice.

“I’ve seen it in movies! But it’s not the same, it’s like—” you gesture wildly upward, “—it’s actually falling!”

Soap lets out a sudden laugh.

Not mean. Just completely unprepared.

“You’re tellin’ me you’ve gone yer whole life without snow?”

“Yes!”

Gaz shakes his head in disbelief.

“Where the hell did you grow up?”

“Where it’s warm, Duh!” you say defensively, like that should explain everything.

Price steps out of the building behind them just in time to hear the commotion.

“What’s all the—”

He stops.

Looks at you.

Then at the sky.

Then back at you, practically vibrating with excitement while trying to catch snowflakes in your bare hands.

“…What’s she doin’?”

Soap wipes a tear from the corner of his eye.

“Never seen snow before, Cap.”

Price raises an eyebrow.

“You’re joking.”

You rush toward him immediately like he’s the next person who needs to witness the miracle.

“Captain, look!”

He glances down at the snow in your palm.

“…Yes.”

Your eyes are shining.

“They’re like little stars!”

Price exhales slowly through his nose, clearly trying not to smile.

Behind him, Ghost tilts his head slightly, still watching you.

You suddenly crouch down, staring at the ground where the snow is starting to dust the pavement.

Then you scoop some up.

Or try to…It’s mostly slush.

“Wait—hold on—”

You gather a small handful anyway, packing it together like wet sand.

“What are you making?” Gaz asks.

You stand up proudly.

“A snowball!”

It looks like a damp lump of sadness.

Soap grins.

“That’s the worst snowball I’ve ever seen.”

You beam anyway.

Then, without warning—

You throw it.

It explodes against Soap’s chest.

Everyone freezes.

Soap stares down at the wet smear on his shirt.

Slowly…

He looks up.

“Oh, you’ve made a mistake.”

You gasp.

Then you bolt.

Laughter bursts out of you as your boots slip on the wet pavement while Soap charges after you like an unleashed dog.

Gaz is already scooping snow off a railing.

“Captain, permission to engage?”

Price sighs like a tired father watching chaos unfold.

“…Go on then.”

Ghost watches the whole thing quietly as you duck behind a truck, shrieking when Soap nearly catches you.

Snowflakes collect in your hair.

On your shoulders.

In your eyelashes.

You look happier than he’s ever seen you.

You peek around the truck and lock eyes with him.

Your grin is immediate.

“Ghost!”

He already knows.

“…No.”

You scoop snow off the hood of the truck anyway.

“Ghost—!”

“Don’t.”

“You have to!”

“You’re not throwin’ that at me.”

Your grin widens.

Soap yells from behind you.

“DO IT!”

And you do.

The snowball barely survives the throw, breaking apart against his shoulder.

Everyone waits.

Ghost looks down at the melting snow on his jacket.

Then at you.

You suddenly look very small.

“…Sorry?”

There’s a pause.

Then Ghost bends down.

Scoops up a handful of snow.

And starts packing it slowly.

Your eyes go wide.

“Oh no.”

Soap howls with laughter.

Gaz claps you on the back as he runs past.

“Run.”

You run.

Your laughter echoes across the base yard as the first snow of the year falls gently from the sky.

Now, the Task Force finally understands why someone would get excited about snow.

୨୧⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅୨୧⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅୨୧ ⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅ ୨୧

some recent sketches from twitter

Imagine you’re arguing with Johnny and that man just decides he’s hungry

You don’t even remember what started it, or even what it was all about. It’s a miracle that you’re even conscious at all with the voracious appetite of the man in between your legs.

You were in the middle of yelling at him about whatever when he fell to his knees in front of you and grabbed at your thighs, his mouth already hovering over your apex.

All you can do is stare at him in shock, then frown, “Johnny, what the hell are you doing??”

He gets a shit-eating grin on his face and shrugs, “M’hungry, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to your clothed center and continues mumbling, “An look at that, it’s already cooked to perfection.”

You don’t have any time to protest.

He immediately tugs your pants down and starts his self-proclaimed feast.

All you can do is hold onto his hair and hope he can remember what it was you were talking about.

YES WHAT IF 🤣

•18+ Adults Only

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This might be a bit self indulgent butttttttt but the task force men coming back from deployment only to see that their girl who normally wear wigs,natural hair, box braids or WTV her heart contents when and got one of those grown n sexy pixie cuts!!! Like I’m talking that 90s fine pixie AKA that Halle Berry and Nia Long pixie iykyk!! So he comes home and she just there reading in the couch looking so well… fuckable. And since she wanna look so grown and sexy he might as well give her a baby but she’s playing and lowkey leaves him high a dry cuz this hair was not cheap… not in this economy 🤨🤨 (she paid for the haircut with his card.😀)

𝒯ℴℴ 𝒮ℯ𝓍𝓎

wc- 1.767k (estimated a few hundred each)

Summary- 141’s reactions to their wife's pixiecut.

A/n: Girl—that 90s pixie cut😩 Thank you for this, I hope you enjoy. I had so much fun doing this it's crazy, let me know your favorite!

CW-17+, suggestive content, heavy admiring, fluff, kissing, groping, maybe some biased with Gaz & Ghost, attempted sex(all), some humor, a good bit of dialogue, etc, etc. (Each will have individual warnings.)

John Price

CW- kissing, groping, mentions of erection, he's desperate for that cooter cat.

The whole ride home, you were the only thing on his mind. He needed nothing more than to be by his wife's side; months away on the grueling fields had taken their toll on him. Your presence was his only stress relief.

He entered the house quietly, the door creaking as he pushed it open. An immediate sense of peace and warmth washed over him; he stepped into the cool house, his only goal being to find you.

The comforting scent of lavender and chamomile filled the air, quiet aside from the stomping of his boots on the tile floors. He moved into the living room, searching for his beautiful wife.

There you were, knees pulled to your chest, a book resting in your hands, eyes carefully trailing each paragraph with such focus that you hardly noticed him. His eyes continued to scan you—you weren’t the same way he left you.

|| Gymrat!Soap x Fat!Reader ||

Fat!reader that hates gyms (not exercising), hates the judging face staring back at her from the floor to ceiling mirror. Fat!reader that pushes out of her comfort zone to fulfill the needs of her body, and her New Year's resolutions (even if the first trimester of the year is already over). Fat!reader who finds the perfect female instructor, a personal trainer that knows what it feels like to be inside a big body and understands her goals. Fat!reader that after a few weeks forces herself to get used to the 10am crowd, and to not feel as self-conscious about wearing tight sportswear out in public. Fat!reader who's so skilled in avoiding people's eyes on her, accustomed to expecting the worst, that doesn't notice the lustful gaze of a gymrat. Fat!reader who's had the help of a handsome Scottish man spotting her when her coach was called to the front desk. Felt his groin subtly brush against her ass, but dismissed it as an accident because she takes up more space than most people are used to. Fat!reader that's completely oblivious to the fact the buff highlander with the ridiculous Mohawk, and icy blue eyes has synced his routine to match hers strategically. Like when she does her cardio (jogging on the treadmill or climbing the stairmaster), he is always by the weights, dead-lifting her exact body weight while looking at her jiggling and bouncing, making him salivate. Or when she's stretching at the end of a session, doing all kinds of poses that make her groan and moan because of the ache in her muscles. He's close by the benches, hip thrusting several heavy disks, sweating and cursing under his breath. Fat!reader who is unaware of the warnings the staff have issued to him, for public indecency. Making him switch from using his usual gray sweatpants to black loose workout shorts. Fat!reader that didn't think a guy as jacked as Johnny could be so friendly, and sweet to a girl like her. After speaking a few times, they became spotting buddies, and they do cardio together. Just not the one that he wants… yet. She has no clue that he's now obsessed with the sound of her labored breathing, along with the rhythmic thud of her feet hitting the mat of the treadmill, and the choked groans she sometimes lets out while lifting. He can't stay away. Fat!reader who hits the 8-week mark of consistent attendance, and is frustrated to see the scale stay practically the same, her measurements are not different either. Even with the help of the dieting shakes Johnny recommended. The silver lining is her new-found stamina, she feels stronger and with more confidence all while looking the same, she's content with the routine. But that doesn't last. Her trainer is no longer available to work with her, and the gym assigns her someone else while they find a substitute. And he is not friendly at all.

The poll said yes, so here we are ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Brain.exe stoped working

He doesn't make fun of you again.

•18+ Adults Only

Watch Anya Live on Cam

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.

✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions

Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming

Snow day.

୨୧⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅୨୧⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅୨୧ ⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅ ୨୧

The first time it snows on base, you almost miss it.

Not something that just… fell out of the sky.

You’re halfway across the base yard when something cold taps your cheek.

You flinch, hand coming up instinctively, like someone tossed a pebble at you. But when your fingers brush your skin, they come away damp.

“…What?”

Another one lands on your sleeve.

Then another.

You look down.

Tiny white specks dot the dark fabric of your jacket. Soft. Delicate. Already melting into dark pinpricks.

Your brain takes a moment to catch up.

Your eyes slowly lift to the sky.

And then you see it.

Snow.

Not heavy, not the thick storms people complain about—just soft, drifting flakes, floating down lazily like feathers.

Your mouth falls open.

“Oh my god.”

You spin in a slow circle, watching them fall. Onto the pavement. Onto the parked vehicles. Onto the metal railings and rooftops.

“OH MY GOD!”

You drop the paperwork you were carrying without even noticing, hands stretching out in front of you like you’re trying to catch the sky itself.

Your gloves are off before you even realize what you’re doing.

Snowflakes land in your palm.

They’re so small. So light.

And they vanish almost instantly.

You gasp like someone just showed you a magic trick.

Across the yard, Soap is the first to notice you.

He’s halfway through lighting a cigarette when he pauses, lighter hovering in the air.

“…What’s she doin’?”

Gaz follows his line of sight.

You’re standing in the middle of the yard with your arms out like a kid in a cartoon, head tilted back toward the sky, spinning slowly while snow lands in your hair.

Soap squints.

“Is she… dancin’?”

Ghost, leaning against the wall nearby, glances up.

He watches for a few seconds.

You laugh—an unfiltered, breathless sound that carries across the cold air.

Then you shout.

“IT’S SNOWING!”

Soap blinks.

“…Aye.”

You whip around toward them like they’ve just confirmed the existence of aliens.

“IT’S SNOWING!” You repeat, just as enthusiastically.

Gaz snorts.

“Yes. That does tend to happen.”

But you’re already running toward them.

Actually running.

You skid slightly when your boots hit the damp pavement near them, breath puffing in white clouds.

“LOOK!”

You shove your hands out toward them like you’re presenting evidence.

Snowflakes land in your palms.

“They’re so tiny!”

Soap stares at you for a long moment.

“…Have you never seen snow before?”

You look at him like the answer should be obvious.

“No!”

Silence.

Soap glances at Gaz.

Gaz glances at Ghost.

Ghost is staring at you.

“…You’re serious..?” Gaz says slowly.

“Dead serious!”

Another snowflake lands on your nose.

You don’t even notice.

“I’ve seen it in movies! But it’s not the same, it’s like—” you gesture wildly upward, “—it’s actually falling!”

Soap lets out a sudden laugh.

Not mean. Just completely unprepared.

“You’re tellin’ me you’ve gone yer whole life without snow?”

“Yes!”

Gaz shakes his head in disbelief.

“Where the hell did you grow up?”

“Where it’s warm, Duh!” you say defensively, like that should explain everything.

Price steps out of the building behind them just in time to hear the commotion.

“What’s all the—”

He stops.

Looks at you.

Then at the sky.

Then back at you, practically vibrating with excitement while trying to catch snowflakes in your bare hands.

“…What’s she doin’?”

Soap wipes a tear from the corner of his eye.

“Never seen snow before, Cap.”

Price raises an eyebrow.

“You’re joking.”

You rush toward him immediately like he’s the next person who needs to witness the miracle.

“Captain, look!”

He glances down at the snow in your palm.

“…Yes.”

Your eyes are shining.

“They’re like little stars!”

Price exhales slowly through his nose, clearly trying not to smile.

Behind him, Ghost tilts his head slightly, still watching you.

You suddenly crouch down, staring at the ground where the snow is starting to dust the pavement.

Then you scoop some up.

Or try to…It’s mostly slush.

“Wait—hold on—”

You gather a small handful anyway, packing it together like wet sand.

“What are you making?” Gaz asks.

You stand up proudly.

“A snowball!”

It looks like a damp lump of sadness.

Soap grins.

“That’s the worst snowball I’ve ever seen.”

You beam anyway.

Then, without warning—

You throw it.

It explodes against Soap’s chest.

Everyone freezes.

Soap stares down at the wet smear on his shirt.

Slowly…

He looks up.

“Oh, you’ve made a mistake.”

You gasp.

Then you bolt.

Laughter bursts out of you as your boots slip on the wet pavement while Soap charges after you like an unleashed dog.

Gaz is already scooping snow off a railing.

“Captain, permission to engage?”

Price sighs like a tired father watching chaos unfold.

“…Go on then.”

Ghost watches the whole thing quietly as you duck behind a truck, shrieking when Soap nearly catches you.

Snowflakes collect in your hair.

On your shoulders.

In your eyelashes.

You look happier than he’s ever seen you.

You peek around the truck and lock eyes with him.

Your grin is immediate.

“Ghost!”

He already knows.

“…No.”

You scoop snow off the hood of the truck anyway.

“Ghost—!”

“Don’t.”

“You have to!”

“You’re not throwin’ that at me.”

Your grin widens.

Soap yells from behind you.

“DO IT!”

And you do.

The snowball barely survives the throw, breaking apart against his shoulder.

Everyone waits.

Ghost looks down at the melting snow on his jacket.

Then at you.

You suddenly look very small.

“…Sorry?”

There’s a pause.

Then Ghost bends down.

Scoops up a handful of snow.

And starts packing it slowly.

Your eyes go wide.

“Oh no.”

Soap howls with laughter.

Gaz claps you on the back as he runs past.

“Run.”

You run.

Your laughter echoes across the base yard as the first snow of the year falls gently from the sky.

Now, the Task Force finally understands why someone would get excited about snow.

୨୧⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅୨୧⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅୨୧ ⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅ ୨୧

some recent sketches from twitter

Imagine you’re arguing with Johnny and that man just decides he’s hungry

You don’t even remember what started it, or even what it was all about. It’s a miracle that you’re even conscious at all with the voracious appetite of the man in between your legs.

You were in the middle of yelling at him about whatever when he fell to his knees in front of you and grabbed at your thighs, his mouth already hovering over your apex.

All you can do is stare at him in shock, then frown, “Johnny, what the hell are you doing??”

You don’t have any time to protest.

He immediately tugs your pants down and starts his self-proclaimed feast.

All you can do is hold onto his hair and hope he can remember what it was you were talking about.

YES WHAT IF 🤣

•18+ Adults Only

Watch Anya Live on Cam

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.

✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions

Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming

𝒯ℴℴ 𝒮ℯ𝓍𝓎

wc- 1.767k (estimated a few hundred each)

Summary- 141’s reactions to their wife's pixiecut.

A/n: Girl—that 90s pixie cut😩 Thank you for this, I hope you enjoy. I had so much fun doing this it's crazy, let me know your favorite!

John Price

CW- kissing, groping, mentions of erection, he's desperate for that cooter cat.

He entered the house quietly, the door creaking as he pushed it open. An immediate sense of peace and warmth washed over him; he stepped into the cool house, his only goal being to find you.

The comforting scent of lavender and chamomile filled the air, quiet aside from the stomping of his boots on the tile floors. He moved into the living room, searching for his beautiful wife.

|| Gymrat!Soap x Fat!Reader ||

The poll said yes, so here we are ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Brain.exe stoped working

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