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imagine-shenanigans · 1 month

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inspired partially by this post: thinking about a futuristic au where 'smart devices' and 'smart homes' are fucking everywhere in the cities, only hicks and doomsday preppers and conspiracy theorists have manual locks, physical mail, and appliances that aren't controlled via wifi voice commands.

ghoap x reader, cw: noncon/rape, entrapment, objectification, obvious lack of editing

trying to find an apartment in the neon slums of the bigger cities is a pretty daunting task, considering how hard it is to find housing, so most people live with room mates. you'd really thought you'd gotten lucky, finding a big 3 bedroom apartment with a sudden vacancy and two room mates who are out of town most of the time. it feels decadently spacious to you, considering the beat up old shoebox of an apartment you used to live in. it's in a good part of town, your portion of rent is more than reasonable (holy shit you might even be able to start saving?? for once??) and not only that- they have a cat. a real one, not one of those robot cats that go limp and fall over if the wifi cuts out. (her name is pixel, she's a russian blue, and her love and loyalty can be bought with chin scritches)

you take a small tour of the place with john (one of your potential room mates, who tells you to call him 'soap' for some reason) and he shows you where everything is. it's incredible, everything is modern and shiny and new and you can't see any pieces of technology that look like they need the occasional 'percussional reboot' to get working. john seems absolutely thrilled that you're interested, and tells you that you're free to start moving in as soon as you like. simon, the other room mate, won't be home for a while, but john insists that you'll like him and he'll like you, too.

it seems a little suspicious, at first. all this space, with brand new appliances and tech, in this part of the city, for less money than you were paying in the gutters? it just feels a little too good to be true. john just laughs jovially at that, explaining that the rent is lower considering all that you'll have to do around the house for them while they're gone, like looking after pixel and keeping the place clean. he tells you to think of it as payment for house sitting and pet sitting. it makes sense, you suppose. you feel almost bashful about ever being suspicious of charming, smiling john, who's beyond thrilled at how quickly pixel seems to have taken a liking to you. she's a sweet cat, so the feeling is entirely mutual.

you don't think about it all that hard after that, this seems like a golden ticket out of the desolate poverty you'd found yourself trapped in, it's a no-brainer. cheaper rent in a bigger apartment with all new tech and room mates who are mostly gone? and a cat? hell fucking yeah. you can feel yourself relaxing when you stop and really think about how much money you're going to save, not just on rent but also transport fees to work, since you're moving closer. god, just that little extra wiggle room in your bills is really a load off of your mind. you move in your stuff quickly in only a few trips, and john seems more than happy to help you get your bed and larger items into the apartment, smiling at you all the while.

you spend the first three days settling in as john hovers over you, watching you unpack, smiling all the while and standing just a little too close at all times, but otherwise being a pretty great room mate so far. the replicator he's had installed in the kitchen is perfectly tuned, you've never had better chicken curries in all your life. the two of you pile onto the couch, watching old movies from the early 2000's, laughing at the fashion and cringing at some of the lines that aged very poorly as you get to know each other. it almost feels like you're on vacation or at a slumber party, the way you start to actively enjoy where you're living instead of just tolerating your situation.

on the fourth day, simon comes home and everything changes. you and john are sitting on the couch, watching old star trek movies and laughing about the past's vision of the future, when a huge man in a skull mask disengages the lock on the front door and waltzes in like he belongs there. at first, you think it's a robber or something just based on the way he's dressed, and look to john with wide, terrified eyes. he's just smiling even more broadly now, throwing his arm over your shoulders and beaming at the intruder.

"welcome home, ye mad bastard. good trip?" john asks the skull faced man who's just staring a hole into your soul with dark eyes as he drops a full duffelbag from his shoulder to the floor.

"s'olright." the man rumbles in a deep, gravelly voice, and cocks his head as he continues to inspect you. "you get us a new toy while i was out, johnny?"

toy? alarms go off loudly in your head as you look to john again, waiting for him to come to your defense, to chew this guy a new one for calling you that, but-

"isn't she just bonnie? havenae had a soft girl in a while, and this one's sweet as pie. pixel loves her already." all you can do is stare at him in horror, frozen in place as his grip around your shoulder tightens, slipping from being a friendly gesture to a possessive one.

"john, this isn't funny-" you start before he claps his hand over your mouth, his ever-present smile long-gone as he hisses in your face.

"quiet, bonnie. men o' the house are talkin'." he spits, pressing you tight against him as he muffles your indignant squawks. you can see the other man (must be simon, right? surely this is the missing room mate?) fiddle with his phone as you hear the chime of the home's operating system. he's given it a command of some sort, but you aren't sure what, yet.

"you been good, johnny?" he asks casually, not even looking up from his phone. john lights up at being addressed, but doesn't ease up the pressure against your mouth or shoulder, like he's trying to compress you into submission. you couldn't fight either of these men off, both of them are muscular as fuck and none of it seems to be just for show.

"o'course! been followin' yer rules, havenae touched her til just now, just t' keep her sweet and quiet for ye." john look to you with a pleading look. "tell him. tell him i havenae touched ye."

all you can do is stare at him with watering, angry eyes. god dammit, he really fucking fooled you. of course it was too good to be true, of course you're going to have to ru-

"well?" asks probably-simon, cocking his head as he addresses you directly for the first time since he's been in the apartment. it strikes you as weird that he hasn't removed the mask yet. the air pollution outside makes masks necessary, but not in here where the air scrubbing unit is brand new and functioning.

you jerkily nod your head, afraid of what prolonged silence or a lie would get you. the masked man pockets his phone and pets at john's hair. "good boy, followin' my directions. go on, pup. play with the new toy a little." he instructs, and john's on top of you in an instant, sitting on your lap, pinning you down as he pulls at your clothes.

"i don't- whatever this is, i don't think i want this. i can just go. i don't have that much, i can be out of here in just an hour or so. but i don't- i don't want this." the worlds spill out of your mouth, almost but not quite begging for them to release you from whatever fate they've got planned.

"oh no, you're stayin' right here with us. you've got two options- you can either say yes and be a good toy, or you can say no and be our pretty victim. you get to decide how much this hurts, love." the masked man snarls down at you as he fishes his fat cock out of his pants, stroking it a few times as he saunters up next to you and john, who's fighting for his life against your bra clasp.

"simon, i need-" he holds out his hand, and the masked man stops stroking his cock long enough to pull out a knife, a five inch switchblade that opens with a swift click before he hands it over to the man that's pinning you to the couch with his body weight.

"no, no, please- i'll be good! i will! please don't hurt me!" you beg, eyes watering and voice shaking. you hold your breath as john points the knife at your sternum, and whimper in terrified surprise as he proceeds to cut your bra off.

"o' course ye will, ye'll be so good fer me n' simon." he says as he hands the knife back, wrenching your tattered bra over your arms and throwing the pieces over his shoulder without care. you vaguely hear the whirr of the little robot that fetches dirty laundry behind him. john looks back over his shoulder.

"simon, please, can i? i've been so good, didnae even touch her til ye got home. please?" he begs, and you can feel him getting hard through his jeans against your soft, bare stomach.

"olright, but put on a show f'me, johnny. use your toy and show me how much you missed me." simon says, settling down on the couch next to you with his cock still in his hand.

you barely have time to think before john's grabbing your face in his hands and shoving his tongue down your throat, licking sloppily into your mouth. you want to bite his tongue, to fight him, to make him bleed, but considering that simon has a knife on him, all you can do is just lie there and let john assault your mouth with his. you lie there, eyes closed, like a dead fish for a few moments before a large hand fists itself in your hair, making your scalp sting with acute pain.

"kiss. him. back." simon demands, and fear compels you to comply immediately. john hums happily as you begin to slide your tongue against his, nibbling at his lip and gasping into his mouth as his hands slide down to play with your tits. you try to forget what's happening, to keep your eyes closed and pretend you're anywhere else, with anyone else, but simon doesn't seem content to let you retreat into your mind and hide in a fantasy.

for a few moments, the hand in your hair releases you as you feel the couch cushions shift beside you before it comes back, this time, from another angle. your eyes open as you feel your head being pulled back a bit, and that's when you see. ghost is standing on the sofa next to you, his cock bobbing between you and john, who's also got a fist in his scruffy mohawk.

unlike you, john looks stoked to be in this position, blissed-out smile on his face as simon wordlessly pushes the two of your mouths to the sides of his cockhead, encouraging the two of you to make out over it. it's sour, tasting like sweat and god knows what else, and you're more than happy to let john greedily lick it clean before you run your tongue over it. the apartment seems deathly quiet except for the sounds of wet sucking and licking, paired with the john's needy groans and simon's grunting. it takes both you and john by surprise when your head gets wrenched back and simon starts fucking john's face. he gags a few times until he gets the rhythm, and all you can do is watch in wide eyed, teary horror as you're forced to watch your tormentors fuck as you're pinned in place.

"good boy, johnny. didn't think a mutt like you could fetch a new toy without chewin' on it a bit first. keep bein' good and you can have my sloppy seconds." simon says before abruptly yanking john's head back so hard that he falls off of your lap and onto the floor, then turning his attention to you.

"get her pants off and eat her cunt, pup." simon orders as he tightens his grip in your hair and guides his cock to your mouth. your scared, panicked brain tells you to comply before this man kills you with his bare hands, and you open your mouth in surrender to his whim, squeezing your eyes shut. a fat, spit-slick cock pushes past your lips and into your throat, the only warning being a slight twitch in the hand holding your hair. it hurts, and you can tell already that you're going to have a sore throat at the very least. probably-simon is rough as he fucks your face, and you just try your best to time your breathing with his thrusts as you feel tears slip out from between your eyelids, rolling down your cheek.

you intentionally don't lift your hips for john as you feel him struggle to slide your sweatpants over your big hips and ass. fuck that guy, fuck both of these guys. as soon as they turn their backs, you're grabbing a breathing mask and running out to the street and down to the nearest police station. there's a sharp and sudden pinch on the fat of your hip that makes you yelp around a mouthful of cock and lift your hips begrudgingly as john yanks your pants off unceremoniously. john grabs at your knees and shoves them apart, throwing each thigh over his shoulders and leaning forward to bend you in half as he feverishly starts lapping at your cunt, homing in on your clit with a speed and accuracy you wouldn't have expected from a fuckboy like him.

john is, unfortunately, very good at eating pussy. he makes out with your clit like it's his long lost lover, and unfortunately, it does it for you. you can feel yourself getting wetter, getting worked up, and you hate yourself for it. it's too much, dealing with simon's rough throat-fucking and john's passionate pussy eating, and the tears just keep flowing as you find yourself balling your hands into fists to avoid giving john the satisfaction of reaching for his head. fuck, you hate how good that feels, and you hate that he's the one making you feel that way.

you don't know how long it's been when simon pulls out of your mouth, strings of saliva attaching his throbbing cock to your lips, and all you can do is gasp for breath as you're finally able to solely focus on the sensation of john treating your clit like an unsupervised prom date. it doesn't last long, as simon plants his boot on john's side and shoves him out from between your legs, a look of amusement on his glistening wet face as simon takes his place with your thick thighs on either side of his hips, squeezing at the fat on your waist as he lines himself up and pushes in without pretense.

even with john's 'prep', you still feel like you're going to split apart over simon's cock. it's massive, stretching you to your limit, and you almost feel like he's pushed all the air out of your lungs when he bottoms out. john wastes no time scrambling to your side, oral fixation now entirely focused on your tits as he sucks and licks at your nipple, hand snaking down between you and simon, rubbing vigorously at your clit as simon starts to thrust in and out with a grunt.

simon barely pays attention to you as he fucks you, starting off slow and working his way to a rough, hip snapping speed as he digs his fingers into your soft hips so firmly that you know there will be bruises tomorrow. you can't think, you can't breathe, all you can do is take it, and pray simon cums quick just so you can get this over. john's working so hard to make you cum on his cock, and goddammit, he's close. muscles are tensing, and every nerve in your body is thrumming, waiting for the big finale. you know if and when he succeeds you're going to loathe yourself with every fiber of your being.

"fuckin' hell, johnny. can sure pick 'em, can't you? forgot how nice a tight cunt on a soft little toy can be. forgot how much i like the jiggle." he snaps his hips, making your entire body bounce and undulate from the force of it. he chuckles from under the mask and tightens his grip on you. "bet you bruise easy, love. be fun to find out."

all you can do is whimper in response, and then yell when john's teeth on your nipple send you flying over the edge. your eyes roll back as you clench around simon's cock, fists clenching even tighter as you feel the air escape your lungs and your spine melt into the couch. simon's pace only quickens with a sharp 'fuck, good fuckin' toy.' before he bottoms out, holds your hips flush to his, and leans his head back with a dirty groan before you can vaguely feel the pulse of his cock flooding your pussy.

all you can do is lie there and try to catch your breath as john eagerly waits for simon to pull out and give him permission to have a go at you. you hope simon's a bastard to him, makes up an imaginary infraction to prevent him from having 'sloppy seconds'. you want them to fight, to argue and be distracted long enough for you to limp down the stairs and away from them. you don't care if you're naked and dripping cum, you'll beg a neighbor for a mask and a robe and hope these two monsters didn't notice you slipping out the door. your dreams are crushed when simon gets up, slaps his slick-wet cock on john's nose, and wanders into another room with a 'have at 'er, mutt'.

"told ye, told ye simon would like ye. ye did so good, didnae need hit even once. got me a smart softie, aye? brains as big as that lovely arse of yers. ye just keep doin' as yer told and we'll pamper ye like miss pix." he pants out breathlessly as he pulls at your arms, urging your down onto the carpet on your hands and knees as he crawls behind you and shoves your face to the carpet.

judging from how it feels as he shoves himself inside of you, john's nowhere near as big as simon, but instead of being relieved, it just adds to the used up feeling that you're experiencing. a hollow pit in your chest that makes you feel like an object, a doll, a thing to be consumed and tossed aside. you close your eyes and concentrate on the feeling of the carpet against your face and knees, the low thudding sound that echoes through the flooring as simon wanders around the apartment as you're being violated on the living room floor.

the footsteps grow louder, and not long after they pause, john lets out a groan behind you that's absolutely filthy. a new sound has started, almost like the wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy, but a different pitch, a different tempo. it doesn't occur to you what it might be until simon's voice breaks the relative silence.

"atta boy, you like that, don't you pup? fuckin' up against a big fat arse while i fuck yours on my fingers. feels good, eh? fillin' her up while you get filled up. you love that shit, don't you, you dirty mutt?" he purrs lowly, his words clearly meant for john and not you, the toy on the floor.

"yeah, yeah, yeah," john pants, and you can feel his fingers on your hips tighten as he ramps up the pace, slamming into your cervix painfully on every thrust. this angle is fucking killing you, you're pretty sure if ghost ever tries to take you from behind with your ass in the air that you might actually die.

john cums inside of you with a drawn out groan, and you can feel his cum comingling with simon's, and it makes you feel sick, disgusting, and even more used up. large hands shove at you, pushing you off of john's cock instead of him pulling out, and you collapse on the floor, eyes still closed, waiting for the sounds of kissing to stop before you dare to open them again.

as you lie there on the carpet, trying to find your composure as you wipe the drying tears on your cheeks, it registers that there used to be someone who lived here before you, and you had never bothered to ask why they'd left before agreeing to move in.

"john, w-what happened to your old room mate?" you ask quietly through hiccups as you slowly sit up off the floor, watching as john tucks his cock back into his pants and gets to his feet.

"soap, bonnie, call me soap- and, ah, well, see, toys get broken sometimes, ye ken?" john says with a pat on your cheek and a wink. simon kicks at your leg with his boot, and you yelp a little and pull away from him.

"clean yourself up, for fucks sakes. if your cunt drips on the carpet i'll make you lick it up." he barks at you as he saunters into johnny's room with his duffel bag, johnny trotting along after him like an obedient dog.

you tug your clothes back on (minus your bra) in a haste and speedwalk to the front door, trying to stay as silent as possible. your fingertips barely graze the doorknob when a red light flashes and an automated voice cheerily tells you that the child locks have been engaged, which means no one with your face, fingerprints, or voice can operate technology or telecoms without admin approval, open doors or windows, or access cabinets that are designated as having dangerous items inside, such as; chemicals, knives, fire-starters, batteries-

long, loud, mocking laughter rings out from the johnny's bedroom as the cheery voice lists everything else you're banned from doing, and you crumple to the floor on your knees, sobbing and begging god for a sudden power outage as pixel curls up against you, meowing softly in sympathy.

#ghost cod #soap cod #cod #im just gonna start eating your fucking writing early #dark fic #just #run off with it on a fours

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imagine-shenanigans · 2 months

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i hate being a writer some times vfjfnxksbzjns

okay im going with reconcile and im gonna rewrite rhe context around it so that fits ✊😔

if i think of the word i was thinking of you all will be the first to know

somebody help me i'm going fucking insane i'm trying to think of the word for this its like.

"Trying to [word] the two mental images of him, but unable to do so."

Like when you have to very stark and different versions of a person you're trying to not compare or conceptualize but like combine in your head, but you can't?

its not consolidate. I'M GOING INSANE. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.

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imagine-shenanigans · 2 months

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somebody help me i'm going fucking insane i'm trying to think of the word for this its like.

"Trying to [word] the two mental images of him, but unable to do so."

Like when you have to very stark and different versions of a person you're trying to not compare or conceptualize but like combine in your head, but you can't?

its not consolidate. I'M GOING INSANE. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.

#mod strawberry #not an imagine #FUCKING HELP

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imagine-shenanigans · 2 months

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also this goes unsaid but whenever i work on certain fics i add parts to them like "oh this specific mutual/frequent flier is going to tear into this in a hedonistic frenzy" and i stand by that. and ill do it again.

#not an imagine #mod strawberry #remembered a part i put in the not upcomig but one or two chapters after of tptbp #so like two or three chapters from now #and im like #oh yeah. the freaks on tumblr are going to love this.

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imagine-shenanigans · 2 months

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my favorite thing about writers interpretations of johnny and simon being freaks who bully their way into your life is that I love the variety in it.

Like yes there are some community agreed staples that tend to track regardless, but I love how in character two wildly conflicting points of view are.

Like yes, Simon is absolutely the type of person to wage a psychotic fucking war against his point of interest to the point that, despite his uncanny behavior at times, reader can solidly write him off as just kind of a loser until he masterminds his way into being a permanent fixture in their life and they dont realize ever or until the trap is so solidly snared around them that its inescapable. And yes he's ALSO the type to so stubbornly butt his way into that same life just because he decides he can! Theres no convincing of anyone, not even himself, he just walks up, throws you over his shoulder and caveman style calls it his. I like it, its mine, no i dont care.

Whereas Johnny you see the same thing in a different shape- a Soap so willing to keep his prize that he'll bumble his way into your routine like its an accident, all charm and smiles despite the times he gets a little forceful or creepy, but is so patient and willing to get what he wants that he'll play any angle he can to get it. Your best friend? sure! your cool coworker? absolutely! The neighbor who you can rely on day or night in an emergency? on it! And then you also see a Johnny who refuses to wait, refuses to heel, refuses to wait. He'll kiss you sloppy in front of the whole supermarket just so nobody tries anything but his image is so naturally good you cant do SHIT about it. An unrelenting force that will get what he wants and is, while not willing to wait, willing to "clear the way" for you. Almost like he's fine running ahead because youll get there eventually on rhe railroads he's putting down.

i just think its neat watching people play jn the sandbox with them

#cod #mod strawberry #not an imagine #soap cod #ghost cod

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imagine-shenanigans · 2 months

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snatching your best friend soap's phone while he's in the bathroom for pranking purposes (you wanna take a selfie and post it to his socials with the caption 'soap needs a new phone password lmao'), only to find he's got an entire photo album of pictures of you sleeping. at first you think it's harmless fun between friends, a long-running joke he simply hadn't let you in on yet. you don't even mean to tap the album to open it, but when you do it makes your heart stop. there's a few pictures that look innocent enough; slumped against the armrest of his couch on a movie night, head resting on your folded arms at your kitchen table after a house party, curled up and obviously snoring in the backseat of his car. but there are others, ones with a hard, bare cock just in the bottom of the frame. even more, there's a few with what's obviously cum on your face. that's the last straw for you. as you get up and put on your coat, trying to get out of his flat before he finishes up in the bathroom, all you can think about is the handful of times you've woken up to soap rubbing a tissue across your lips with a coy wink and a 'ye were droolin', bonnie. no worries, i won't tell anyone.'

#soap cod #cod #god hes such a freak #heart emoji

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imagine-shenanigans · 2 months

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bitch did you think id let you leave this blessing in the tags

i havent written anything in a hot minute but creepy neighbor johnny? anyone? shakes him like a bag of chips at you all

He lives in the same shitty building you're stuck in, with no in unit washer/dryer, and the only machines are available in the basement. They're ancient but they work, and they're just so much cheaper than a laundromat and you can barely drag yourself down into the basement when youre off of your night shift to wash your work uniform, let alone drag your carcass down to a laundromat outside of the safety of your locked building.

And usually despite being tired it works great! You can chuck down an instant meal while you sit in the laundry room after work, scrolling through your phone. You get all of the four washers/dryers free for yourself (though you never use all four, youre not crazy).

And whenever Johnny's home he's always jetlagged to fuck, and if he's alone he'll just do his laundry whenever he feels like it - which usually tends to be in the middle of the night, because if Mrs Johnson from down the hall grabs his bicep one more time he'll scream.

His obsession with you immediately snaps into place when he sees you sitting on top of the dryer, half asleep as you play on your phone. (Because like hell are you leaving your clothes unattended.) He tries to make small talk, making jokes or asking questions just to keep hearing your tired, slightly incoherent voice.

"Cold water," you yawn, rubbing at your face.

"What's tha' hen?"

"Blood," you clarify tiredly, leaning forward a bit to point at one of his shirts. "You wanna use cold water for blood. Not hot. The proteins in blood clump or something? I think? Anyway it'll set the stain."

Johnny blinks, and flicks the knob to cold instead of hot, a chuckle rumbling in his throat. He finishes loading the washer, and then moves to bracket his arms on either side of you, leaning in just a liiiitle too close and thanking you.

Plucks at your sleep shorts and runs the flimsy fabric between his thumb and forefinger.

Makes an off color joke about what a good little housewife/spouse/husband you'd be thats just a LITTLE too enthusiastic. Doesn't move back nearly far enough when the buzzer of the dryer finishing "saves" you. It makes it so you brush up against him when you clamber down and bend to get your clothes.

Watches you leave and memorizes what floor you set the elevator to. Ecstatic when he realizes you're on the same floor - nearly goes rabid when he hears your voice coming from the adjacent wall the next morning when your shower kicks on.

From them on he seems to ALWAYS be doing laundry when you are, like he's got a sixth fucking sense for it. He never does it where you can see, either but you SWEAR he's taking your underwear from the laundry basket on purpose. You just can't prove it because no matter how hard you stare or keep watch, or wait... he always, without fail, produces a pair of your skimpiest/most revealing/tightest pair of underwear from SOMEWHERE and chuckles that he found something of yours.

Then he asks for a finders fee, and, without fail, every single time, his request escalates from the last one.

He starts with asking for a hug, then a few weeks later he's escalated to a kiss on the cheek, but he always turns his head at the last second. By the third week he's giving you a sloppy, open mouthed kiss that leaves you breathless before he'll even think about giving your underwear back.

(And, god forbid you refuse, because he'll just fucking pocket them.)

He steals your mail, comes over for a cup of sugar, anything he can think of to be in your space he will. And, of course, should you choose to ignore him, and pretend youre still sleeping? He takes advantage of the fact that you're the only neighbor on his side of the hall, and absolutely makes a menace of himself. Presses to the adjacent wall so hard even he worries he might break through it, and moans so loud you're convinced he might go mute.

And at first youre like. okay! no worries! ill just put on noise cancelling headphones! (and if you do anything without those headphones on, thats between you and god.) But then he starts moaning YOUR name and panting like youre in the fucking room with him, until you inevitably get complaints and nobody believes you when you say youre not fucking the hot military veteran because everyone heard it. (or thought they did)

and, if you ever find something of HIS and return it?

He's going to ignore your request for him to stop as your finders fee. He has some more creative ideas for it after all

#soap cod #cod #fucking lightheaded bro #jesus christ #i need him in a way that delves directly into obscenity #way beyond concernkng #ceil come here and look at this

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imagine-shenanigans · 2 months

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i havent written anything in a hot minute but creepy neighbor johnny? anyone? shakes him like a bag of chips at you all

"Cold water," you yawn, rubbing at your face.

"What's tha' hen?"

Plucks at your sleep shorts and runs the flimsy fabric between his thumb and forefinger.

Then he asks for a finders fee, and, without fail, every single time, his request escalates from the last one.

(And, god forbid you refuse, because he'll just fucking pocket them.)

and, if you ever find something of HIS and return it?

He's going to ignore your request for him to stop as your finders fee. He has some more creative ideas for it after all

#cod #soap cod #mod strawberry #strawberry writing

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imagine-shenanigans · 3 months

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"because the prick thinks he's funny" is honestly the funniest thing to come out of my complete stream of consciousness ramblings while writing ideas for tptbp

#mod strawberry #tptbp #i'll give you one goddamn guess as to who it is

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imagine-shenanigans · 3 months

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i havent found a spot where it would fit in TPTBP (yet?) but I am a firm believer in Ghost tying Soap down and putting a fleshlight in his cunt and fucking him in such a way that Ghost can get off all he wants and Soap doesnt get to feel anything as a punishment

#cod #soap cod #ghost cod #strawberry writing #tptbp

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imagine-shenanigans · 3 months

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toxic ghoap x reader where they still fuck while deployed but you're expected to go months without getting laid lmao.....i need these mean freaks

#soap cod #ghost cod #cod #so true bestie so true

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imagine-shenanigans · 3 months

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i glance at my tumblr mutual reblogging from me again.. blushes and looks away..... my trasured mutual, you mysterious and charming being.....what are we? i hope... maybe someday, we could be something more... something like..discord friends

#reblogs #not an imagine #BDJDNSJSNSJSBS ME

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imagine-shenanigans · 3 months

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inspired by I have an outer ear infection and im losing my mind - we're all kidding ourselves if we think Simon Riley would do anything but hold you down to make you take meds.

You're sick? Lay the fuck down.

He won't let you out of bed for anything, even if the house is on fire he's wrapping you up in a blanket and laying you on his chest. He's incredibly tactile when he wants to be and its on his terms, and when you're sick he just bundles you against him most of the time so he can keep an eye on you. Doesn't care how gross it gets, he'll wear a thick hoodie just so you can drool on it.

Any whining about meds will immediately be met with a firm glare, and you just know he's willing to hold your nose shut to make you take them no matter how nasty it tastes.

God forbid you need a shot, or eye or ear drops. He won't even let you entertain the idea of taking them on your own. Holds you down if you get squirmy, and just lets you bite his arm or shoulder if the drops/shot/etc has you itchy/uncomfortable while he holds your arms and hands down. He'll literally just grab a towel, rip it in half, and tape it to your hands to keep them shut if you try to itch at all or mess with anything you shouldnt be like picking at scabs or scratching a rash.

Liberal use of Nyquil or melatonin if he can get away with it, too. Can't put up a fuss if you're out cold. He just keeps you right on his chest while he watches telly and naps a bit himself off and on. Showers are now a two person event, too.

#ghost cod #cod #mod strawberry #strawberry writing #hed be so fucking overbearing #but its a little endearing

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imagine-shenanigans · 3 months

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dont any of you bitches get me started on my autism rambljng about selkies on god i will not shut up if i begin

#theyre my fav mythological creature #i lose my mind every time.over them #and i have an ear infection i think #maybe ill ramnle at yall abt it tomorrow if someone wants #while im at the doc

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imagine-shenanigans · 3 months

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sighs dramatically.

Okay but the ghost distribution system as we call it is hysterical but can we tlak about how None Of The 141 are built to date.

Like, sure, Gaz is great at flirting, and he's charming, but DATES? He's the type who asks you on a date because he thinks youre pretty/handsome/adorable/etc but by the time the two of you actually go on a date he's ready figured out like. the whole rest of your lives together. He's already imagined up 20 different scenarios of different dates, stalked your front-facing social media and found your secret or hidden accounts that theoretically don't link back to you. Sure, he's scrounged through your discord servers and your private messages and texts and a thousand other things while he was bored on leave. He knows enough to know that he's happy with what comes next. All dates are simply... ritual at this point? Something obligational, other than the fact he gets to spend time with you.

You're not going anywhere, he's just the least heavy handed of them, the one who'll let you think its your choice to keep him around until he's got his ring officially on your finger. Life won't go according to plan but he's prepared for that too. In his head, you're already married anyway, he's just working his way up to that part. He'll manufacture any scenario to keep you with him, because he wants you to be. And he'll make sure you want to be too.

Soap on the other hand is WAY less tactful about it. He's charming, and he'll take you on dates, sure, but the moment he spots you it's incredibly easy to get obsessed. He immediately drops an arm around you, purring in your ear and talking to you. Doesn't ask you on a date so much as demands it, puts his number in your phone and presses a kiss to your temple, his fingertips squeezing your chin before you leave. God forbid you let him into your home - he'll never leave if you do. Johnny's SUCH a physical guy that while, yes, personality matters, it seals the deal for him the moment he's got his tongue down your throat and his fingers in your pants. Something about the way you settle in against him makes him feel like he's home, and you will never get rid of him.

He's willing to take you on dates if you need more proof, but he won't even pretend like he doesnt already have a copy of your key. Like he's not telling the guys about the bonnie little thing he's going home to - he slips into your apartment/house/etc and into your bed without changing, barely finding time to slip his boots off. Presses one hand to your mouth and just... holds you. He'll fuck you within an inch of your life later when you're less panicked, sure, but he just wants to press his nose to your neck and breathe you in. If his hips rut against your ass, ignore it for now. (Haha... unless? No? okay in a minute then)

Price is just as manipulative as Gaz can be, just as charming as Soap and Gaz too. But he just... doesn't care, just like Simon. There's a reason so many people have Price with like... mail order bride or a "one day you look up and hes your husband" scenario and thats because he's good at what he does. And by that I mean being a husband and pumping you full of kids whether or not its physically possible. (Btw check out Ceil's mail order bride western au its good shit, or Bo's Kingpin Price drabbles, makes me lose it every time.)

He sees you walking about and the MOMENT you do anything remotely domestic - pick up a neice/nephew/babysitting kid/etc and put em on your hip? Rock hard. play peekaboo with a baby across from you at a cafe? pick up after yourself just to be polite to the waitress? he's already stalking you on multiple platforms theres no goddamn way youre getting away from him. He'll figure out where you go in your free time and insert himself there as naturally as possible. He's not particularly hiding what he's doing either - he likes to test you, to see if you notice things missing or moved. If you do, he'll be a little more cautious, use it as reason to drive you into hsi arms. If you don't he jsut views it as all the more reason to take you away - poor thing, you just can't help yourself can you? You're lucky nobody else has got their claws around you, hm?

#price cod #gaz cod #soap cod #cod #strawberry writing

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