#soap headcanons

Gaz enjoys a slow, intimate 69 laying sideways. He can watch you suck his dick, touch more of you, finger as he licks.

Ghost likes it on his knees with your legs over his shoulders, arms supporting your ass and bracing you against the wall. He loves that you can’t wiggle away.

Soap is a face sitter. He wants you to crush him, to squeeze his head between your thighs. The man wants to die eating pussy.

Price is as traditional as they come. He’ll grab your ankle and yank you to the edge of the bed, go down on his knees, and have himself a feast.

The first time that you get intimate with each other beyond making out, he immediately moves between your legs and says "ive wanted to know what ye taste like for so fuckin long, lass."

Anyway, he ends up cumming in his pants without any stimulation other than eating your pussy out.

I also imagine that he'll just randomly crave you throughout the day, come up behind you and whisper in your ear "I wanna stuff my tongue in yer cunt, baby."

How about that one time you go clothes shopping together and pick out a pair of tight leggings. As soon as you come out of the changing room, Johnny's eyes dart down to the very very obvious camel toe, and licks his lips.

Next thing you know, he's ushering you into the changing room, shoving the leggings down and bending you over. You can see him drop to his knees in the mirror and use his hands to spread your cheeks before diving in. You have to bite your hand to keep from moaning too loud.

Oh, also, he LOVES a nice healthy bush. If you even mention wanting to shave or wax it, he'll hide your razors and forbaid you from going to the appointment. He nearly sobs when you get away with it anyway.

"You smell so fucking good with the hair, dove. I don't know why in the hell you would want to get rid of it.. you've got such a pretty pussy."

Anyway, I love my pussy drunk Soap.

Forgot to mention, he totally mentions how good you taste and sound when he eats you out to his best mate Ghost.

That you start cooing over your precious baby for protecting you so fiercely, rather than over Johnny, doesn't help matters. Neither does the fact that the little fucker made him bleed, and he can already tell the bite is going to scar. He'd rather die than explain that one to Ghost...

That night, he ends up sleeping on the couch, because your toothy terror growls every time he gets near you. His ego is so bruised he almost considers giving you an ultimatum--him or the dog. But he knows who you'd choose, and the just the thought of you leaving him makes him break into a cold sweat, so he scraps that idea before it can even fully form.

He supposes he'll just have to stock up on your little shite's favorite treats and try to bribe his way back into its good graces.

(It works, eventually. And when Johnny's finally allowed back into the bedroom under the pup's watchful eye, he's careful to make sure it leaves before he rolls on top of you and starts rutting against you like the mutt he is).

141 love language headcanons

simon’s is acts of service, but he’s not, like, doing the dishes. what he does is remove problems before you even know you have them. your car you were going to mention needed petrol is filled, he changed the oil too. the shelf in the pantry you complained about under your breath is fixed. the employee at the market that made a comment about your tits that one time, you haven't seen him in weeks. you say something offhand on tuesday, by friday it’s been quietly handled. you never catch him at it. he won’t take credit when you notice, either. it’s not service, per se, it’s more like clearing. he wants the path in front of you smooth, and he wants you to never know it wasn’t.

price’s is physical touch. it’s the hand at the small of your back when he walks behind you. his fingers raking through your hair when you’re head is on his thigh. a light grab on the back of your neck when you’re standing at a counter. his hardened grip, palms full of the soft of you when you’re writhing beneath him. he touches you like he’s reminding himself you’re real. he’s been in too many places that felt like nothing was.

kyle’s is words of affirmation, but not the obvious kind. he doesn’t tell you you’re beautiful after you’ve spent an hour getting ready. he tells you before you’ve even showered, when you get back from working-out. he says things like: you handled that really well. that was a good call, my love. i liked the way you explained that. the affirmations continue when you're both sweating beneath the duvet, and when your knees are smothering the carpet between his feet. he pays attention and then he shows you he was with his replies. you didn’t know how starved you were until he started.

More rugby stuff bc yes!!!

He'd been quiet today, so no one pushed him to talk, so they didn't spot he was snoozing for another few minutes.

Gaz was the first to spot it, face splitting into a grin as he nudged Soaps leg with his foot to get his attention. “Pstt Tav. Bet ye can't cuddle up to him without waking him.”

Soap grinned ferally, “Bet, ay can totally snuggle ‘im” he stood up, sitting next to Ghost on the bed, giving an extra look over to ensure he was indeed asleep.

He then just layed down, onto one of ghosts arms that was splayed out. Holding his breath as Ghost stirred.

Luckily for him, the lieutenant did not wake, simply rolled over slightly, pulling soap closer, and cuddling him.

Gaz pulled a face in surprise. “Damn … ye reckon he'd cuddle me two?"

Soap grinned, gesturing for his mate to try, as Gaz settled against Ghosts other side, subsequently also being pulled into a cuddle.

Both sergeants had shit eating grins as the snuggled closer. Both in disbelief that this actually happened.

When price finally glanced over, he has to do a double take. “Lads… what?”

Soap grinned “Come on cap! We are gently dog piling LT, aka cuddles”

Price, after a moments hesitation, gently settled on top of them.

as much as people headcanon ghost having a bike, i strongly believe soap's got one too. he liked the adrenaline and speed a bit too much. and let's be real, it makes him feel like the hottest lad out there and it's amazing for pulling some lasses.

anyways, all of this is important because he is the kind to drop you off at your house after driving a bit like a maniac for the sake of having you tighten your arms around his middle. hands pressed firmly against his hard abs - definitely not copping a feel -. instead of slowing down after seeing that you are somewhat frightened of his reckless driving, no, he puts a hand on your thigh, gloved fingers grabbing onto the plush of it before he speeds even more.

back to what i was saying, he drops you off at your house, helping you dismount the bike and helping you lean against it, understanding that coming back down from that adrenaline rush might be making you slightly dizzy.

that roughness of his turning into love and care seeing tour state, slowly unbuckling the helmet and pulling it off your head. but god fuck him when you look up at him with pretty puppy eyes, desperation over what's happening filling them, and your disheveled hair, almost looking like you got fucked to hell and back.

man's really weak. immediately tossing both your helmets and putting those same gloved hands on your face, pulling you into a deep kiss. taking advantage of your mouth opening in surprise to allow his tongue to explore the inside of your mouth. smiling mid kiss when he feels you follow the kiss.

grabbing the underside of your thighs to lift you up and sit you on his bike. pulling one of your legs around his waist as you two keep making out. trying to get as close to you as he can. pulling away slightly to see that fucked-out expression of your again, feeling himself getting even harder - much more with that small string of saliva that connects you two, because my is that hot -.