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bi-writes · 1 year ago

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you don't think ghost likes you very much. (part 2 of this, but can be read standalone) (18+, semi-dark content ahead, ghoap x fem!reader)

he doesn't like you. no matter what you do, what you wear, what you say, you know he doesn't approve of you, not really.

not like johnny.

johnny adores the ground you walk on. his lips are always on you. in your ear, along your neck, against your collarbone. his tongue is warm, and it slides along your jaw, around your fingers, sucking on your skin.

"what a nice gift, LT," he always says. "got the nicest pussy 'v e'er had." and then he puts those eyes on, those big, soft, blue ones, and he asks, "can i keep 'er, LT? can i have 'er?"

and johnny is so good. johnny does what he's asked of. johnny says yes, he never says no. johnny smiles and nods and does what he is told, and so johnny gets to have you.

johnny gets to keep you.

but you are a pet, and you are nothing more, and ghost never lets you believe otherwise. he doesn't even give you his name; it's ghost, and ghost only, and he never touches you. not the way the johnny does.

he competes with you, but it isn't a competition. johnny doesn't listen to you, not if ghost contradicts you. he will win, and he will win every time, and even though you are aware of this, he reminds you, all the time.

"johnny, please--" you sob, and he laughs, rubbing his stubble against your thigh gently. it's wet, because he's slobbered all over your cunt, and your hole pulses because it wants more. "johnnny...j-johnny, please--"

"oh, relax, my little lamb..." he sucks your clit into his mouth gently, suckling on the puckered bud. you whine at that, reaching down, pulling on the long strands of hair down the middle of his head, and he groans. "makin' a right mess..."

you're crying. tears falling down your face, pleasure like fire at the base of your spine and crawling up your back, and you reach up and squeeze the swell of your breasts, pulling on your nipples gently. johnny always gets you here--right at the top of a glorious fucking hill, and when you come down it, he carries you, keeping you high for as long as he can before he tries again and again and again--

"fuck are y' doing?" a rough voice growls. johnny's ripped off of you, his back arching as a gloved hand yanks on his head. johnny grunts, hissing, and you whine when you see ghost gripping him by his neck, holding the back of his head to his chest. "spoiled. you spoil her, johnny."

"she's so pretty, LT...i--"

"you spoil her." ghost tilts his head to the side, and you see his eyes narrow, a harsh glare at you from under the mask that makes you shake a little. "spoil her fuckin' rotten."

he doesn't let you come. he's a selfish motherfucker.

you don't know why he doesn't like you. for all intents and purposes, he chose you. and he had all but asked you to leave. tortured you, yes, but he hasn't asked you to leave. he still wants you here, doesn't he? if he hated you, if he was jealous, if he really disapproved of you, a man such as he would just kick you out, wouldn't he?

johnny and ghost are gone today. you're alone, and you've decided to occupy your time by cleaning. you put away the clean dishes, fold the laundry that was stuck in the dryer, pick up around the kitchen. ghost keeps the place very clean--but they were pressed for time in the morning, so johnny left you with the softest kisses, and ghost with just a grunt.

you're arranging fresh flowers in the living room when you hear the front door shut. you bounce into the hallway, a big smile on your face ready to greet johnny, but you freeze when you see only one big shadow shrugging off his rain jacket.

ghost is by himself, and he rolls out his neck as he toes off his boots. he hangs up his jacket, still not looking at you.

"wot?" he snaps. "cat got your tongue, little rabbit?"

you swallow, shaking your head.

"sorry...i thought...thought it was johnny."

"yeah? and wot? just 'cause it's not johnny, gonna not greet me like y'should, yeah?" he bites. you stand still for another minute before coming towards him. you lean up on your toes and kiss his cheek, but when you pull away, he reaches down and grips your ass tight, forcing your pelvis against his and rumbling low. he snarls a little, and you tilt your head back as he presses the front of his mask against your lips, kissing you through it. "tha'sit. good girl."

a soft sound comes out of you, a moan, a whimper, you aren't sure, but he smacks your ass gently, nodding his head.

"go on," he mutters. "on the couch."

he eyes you as you walk away.

"'n why the fuck are y'wearin' all those clothes?"

your insides warm at that, and you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder.

"oh. sorry." you slide your sweats off and toss them aside. it's then that ghost realizes you're wearing his shirt. he runs a hand over his taut stomach, adjusting himself shamelessly in his jeans as he watches you bend over to get onto the couch. you wear no panties, and he hums under the mask, tilting his head to the side.

"johnny got held up on base," he murmurs, coming into the living room. you take a seat on the couch, looking up at him, squeezing your thighs together.

"so...we're all alone?" you ask. this is your chance. this is the opportunity you have been waiting for. with no johnny to distract him, all he has is you, and he can't ignore you. not this time.

"all alone, sweetheart."

you swallow hard. "why don't you like me?"

the question is blunt and clear. ghost clicks his tongue under the mask, focusing on you, and he shakes his head.

"tha' isn't wot it is."

"then what is it?"

he just stares, and you shake your head. you need answers. you need to know what you're doing wrong--you want to be good.

"not you, luvie. it's my boy, my poor johnny..." you watch as he grips himself through his jeans again, visibly hard as he squeezes his cock over his zipper. "fuckin' annoying when he isn't the center of attention. my attention. you understand, right?"

you watch him, licking your bottom lip.

"b-but...but--"

"turns into a bloody muppet. pouts like a baby." ghost comes closer, leaning over you, gripping your chin gently. "wot, huh? thought i didn't want y'around?" you whimper when he squeezes your face between his big hand, squishing your cheeks. "'n how could i not, yeah? look at ya..."

he growls under the mask.

"y'wet, sweetheart?" he asks, and you lean back, spreading your knees, and he grunts when he sees between your thighs. the skin is wet, soft and slick, and he hums lowly when he sees how you clench around nothing. "wanna taste, luv. give it t'me."

you reach down gently, sliding two fingers through your folds. you whine a little, scooping a nice handful of slick, and then you pick up your fingers for him. he pushes his mask up, and you shiver when you see the wicked grin on his scarred face. then he takes your fingers into his mouth.

he leans over you. his mouth his hot, and you shake a little when his tongue slips over your fingers, warm muscle swallowing as he tastes you.

"fuckin' hell," he murmurs when he lets your fingers go. "know why johnny spends all his time down there, yeah?"

you giggle, arching your back a little, pulling his shirt up.

"ghost...why dont...why dont you come here?" you reach for the waistband of his pants, tugging gently, and he falls over you on the couch. you meet his eyes as you start to unbutton his jeans. "i want you to spend time here, too, y'know."

"tha' right, sweetheart?"

you smile, "y-yeah." you unzip his pants, your jaw falling open when you pull him out. he's so big, nice and girthy and pretty, and the tip is so pink, dribbling precum and just aching for your tongue to taste him. you rub your thumb over the tip, and he hisses. "and...a-and i love johnny..." you look back up into his eyes. "b-but...i..."

he reaches around and fists your hair, growling against your lips.

"need a right beast to fuck this pretty pussy, yeah? need someone to--" you cry out as he yanks your head back, exposing your neck to him. "--fuckin' ruin ya."

you squeal, arching your back, and he chuckles, but it's mean. you wrap your arms around his neck, and he leans down, resting his forehead against yours.

"yah, luv, y'r mine, just as much as johnny--" you gasp when he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, "y'belong to me. gonna write my name across your fuckin' cunt, sweetheart, fuck that idea right into your pretty head--"

you cry when he fucks you. when he sits up on his knees, gripping you from under your thighs, fucking into you with a reckless rhythm that leaves your thighs shaking and warm tears coming down your face.

"look at you..." ghost hisses, and you cry more, keening as he stares down at where you're connected and the squelch of you dribbles down his thighs. "bloody hell..."

your back bows, your thighs clamping around ghost's hips as he fucks you into the mattress. you can barely think, the only sensation you can really absorb is the way his thighs smack against your ass and the feel of his big, gloved hands spreading you open.

"just needed me right here, yeah?" ghost grunts, slowing his pace as he nestles his pelvis right against yours. you whine; he's so deep, it hurts, but it hurts so good, you don't tell him to stop, you can't. he's so much bigger than johnny, in every way, and you feel suffocated, but if this is how you die, so be it. getting fucked brainless is not the worst way to go, not like this. you gasp when he smooths a big hand over your stomach, pressing the pad of his thumb to where you know the tip of his cock sits. "right there, luv, tha' place is for me, yeah? 's mine, my spot--"

ghost leans down, growling against your neck, a firm grind of his hips punching your cervix again. you claw at ghost's back, and it's painfully obvious how desperate you are--you nearly rip ghost's shirt in pieces.

"this place is for me," he murmurs, spreading his fingers. he grips your waist in both hands and gives you a hard thrust, leaning his head back as he feels you clench hard. you like it when he talks, he can tell--the sound of his voice has you that much wetter, and he clicks his tongue as he leans back, rubbing a gloved thumb over your pretty little clit. "wanna live here...want ya to be my little pet..." he smirks under the mask when you cry, so sensitive. "whenever i want, want you bent over, spread nice 'n wide f'me." he hums low, "whenever i want, yeah?"

he talks like you aren't there. like he isn't cock-deep inside of you, molding the soft places of your pussy to the shape of him. ghost, despite being a little breathless, has no tremble in his voice despite how hot he feels, and he knows, suddenly, why johnny fawns over you. there is nothing that compares to this--there is nothing quite like fucking this pretty princess, watching her tits bounce, her thighs shake, feeling how soft and lovely she is when he gets her right where she belongs--stupid and cumming.

"a princess ya are, yeah?" ghost chuckles. "a right spoiled one, innit?"

and maybe you are a little spoiled. you had no idea you would be getting two for one--johnny and his looming shadow.

you grip ghost's shirt from the front tight, balling it up in tight fists and pulling him close.

"please!" you squeal. "please, please, please--" you moan and sob against the front of his mask. "w-wanted you for so long--w-wanted--"

"ya did?" ghost tilts his head to the side, picking up the pace. he cradles your head between his arms, pressing his face to yours. "even though i was a bastard?"

you mewl, nodding, reaching down and gripping his lower back as he grinds mercilessly. the curls at the base of his cock are rubbing against your clit now, and you angle your hips to catch the feeling every time, and you know you're getting close. you're there.

"almost said your name--" you gasp. "w-when...when he..."

"poor thing--" he chuckles. "thought johnny was what you wanted?" he knows you like the way he's fucking you, and he slows down, wanting to see your face and every expression you make. "what you needed?"

you nod. "i need him," you whisper. "but it isn't enough."

"no, you're such a greedy bunny--" he grips your face tight, sitting up, and you cry when he fucks you. he's an animal, he's lost control, and you are helpless under him. all you can do is spread your knees wider and moan. "johnny can't tame you, but i can, yeah?"

you meet his eyes, big and soft and wet, and he hisses. the look in your eyes, he cums instantly, falling over you and barely having enough time to put his hand out and catch himself. you gasp at the feeling, reaching down, and with a few soft circles of your fingers, ghost lets out a strangled sound as he feels you tighten and cum. the front of his thighs are soaked, and he nudges your chin up with his nose as he breathes in the scent of you from your neck.

"don't say of word of this to 'im, yeah? got ourselves a jealous little bastard," he murmurs against your ear. you nod, and when he kisses you, you can't help the way you relax. cupping his scarred face, licking into his mouth--ghost is your keeper, and he's johnny's keeper, and you know suddenly why johnny does whatever he says, whenever he wants.

ghost is in charge. he just is, and even though you're just a little, innocent civilian, ghost has given you orders, and you will follow them. there is a soft, aching place inside of you that wants to please him so badly--wants to impress him, show him how good you can be. and you imagine, wonder, if johnny has that same feeling in him, that same little press on the inside of his ribs that screams, be a good boy, a good girl, do just as he says, he'll give such a nice reward.

and when johnny comes home, there you are, all soft smiles and tender touches and little giggles that make his belly hurt so nice. and when he tells you he's hungry, you spread your legs, using two fingers to show him your pretty, wet cunt. and he dives in, like he always does, because one of his favorite places is feeling the rub of your thighs against his stubble and your fingers tugging his hair.

his tongue spreads your folds, and he hums with delight when you fall onto your back, pliant and soft and warm. and then he tastes you, and he swallows, and his eyes flicker when there is something else there, something that he knows.

johnny's eyes dart up, looking over you, and he can see ghost lingering in the doorway, watching, and then johnny understands what it is he tastes--and why he likes it so fucking much, and why it tastes like something he knows.

he meets ghost's eyes, and they look at each other, and johnny knows what it is that he's done, what it is he's eating out of you. but ghost knows johnny is a good boy, and he won't pull away, he won't make a scene. no. johnny pulls back a little, wiping his face.

he smiles. and then he leans in for more.

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moon-my-beloved · 6 months ago

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neighbors (tf141 x fem! reader)

part I: first impressions

tw: mentions of crappy parents, angst, and reader being absolutely terrible at socializing. that’s all babes - xoxo

you really weren’t sure why you were so.. anxious.

ever since encountering your (undeniably ethereal) neighbors arrive, you became a little more self-conscious when getting out of the house. that same day, you had carefully and quietly made your way towards auntie lotties house once you were in the clear that the men would not be coming outside any time soon.

“oh dear! what’s got you in such a hurry, luv?” auntie lottie had said in shock, letting you into the comfort of her home and ushering you to sit down while she got you a glass of water.

“i think I’ve just made a fool of myself,” you said in dejection, telling her of the shit show you just did upon meeting your neighbors. a hearty chuckle making itself known once the older woman came back with the glass of water she had promised.

“don’t be silly, they probably didn’t even see you! besides, you will eventually talk to them sooner or later.”

you didn’t even want to think about the possibility of bumping into them any time soon. what would you even say? ‘hey I’m your neighbor from across the street. sorry you caught me peeping at you all like some fucking creep.”

in hopes of just keeping your mind off of the men that have been haunting your thoughts, you asked auntie lottie if she had any new ideas for her next recipe in which you were grateful for when the woman spent most of your stay ranting about a new sponge cake recipe she had seen.

you spent most of your evening with auntie lottie and the sun had already set down by the time you bid your goodbyes to her. the crisp, fresh air blowing on your skin making you sigh in containment as you make your way back home. the sky was clear today, lifting your head up just enough to see how the stars twinkle against the night sky and how the moon cascaded a small glow over the land with how bright it looked. you don’t realize you’ve already arrived to your destination before another rush of cold air snaps you out of your haze.

living by yourself feels great, there’s no questioning that. but you can’t help at times feel that daunting feeling of loneliness claw its way to your mind and make your heart ache in wanting to at least come back home to someone. that desire to be wanted.

your family was a lost cause. practically forgetting all about you once you turned eighteen and went to college. no text messages or phone calls were ever heard from them throughout all those years. small christmas cards being sent here and there that read, “we hope you’re doing well. - mom and dad. friends? they were all living their own lives. building themselves an actual family with their soon-to-be husbands or wife’s. some of them already having kids of their own. you were too scared, too aware of yourself to taint them with any unwanted things. you were never good with people.

god you sound pathetic.

shaking your head a bit, you make your way up the small steps and take out your keys, daring to take a small glance at the house across from you. your eyes catch a small light coming from one of the windows, the silhouette of people walking by visible even though the curtain.

you wonder what they did for work. lottie hadn’t mentioned anything of what they do. from the looks of it, it’s definitely something that keeps them away from home for long periods of time.

your brainstorming is cut off short, eyes widening a bit when someone from the other side of the window suddenly stops in front of it. without a second to waste, you hurriedly make your way inside. your heart pounding out of your chest as you lean your back against the door.

fucking hell.

you had been avoiding them like the plague. successfully staying away from any unwanted attention even when you sometimes caught glimpses of chocolate eyes and mohawk taking their morning run while getting ready for work. ignoring the way your face burned up in shame.

or even at times when you would see skull face reading a book with mutton chops. tea on their sides as they enjoyed the sound of birds chirping and wind chimes bumping against each other with every gust of wind.

they all looked so.. content. and for some reason you just knew they were a family. one with each other with the way they maneuvered themselves with one another. so natural.

nevertheless, you were doing a great job… until you weren’t.

you had been getting off your shift when you decided it was a good idea to do a small grocery run. with the holidays coming and the weather becoming increasingly colder by the days, you needed to stock up before there was nothing left.

so here you were. a coat over your shoulders, still in your work clothes and heels digging into your feet uncomfortably. pushing a cart and checking off items from your list as you went.

stores were busy during this time of year. christmas songs were played through the speakers along with decorations filling every corner of the store. kids bustling around their parents in excitement with every toy they pointed out to.

by the time you were done checking off the last item from your list, you were exhausted.

“maybe a small treat would be nice..” you mutter to yourself, making your way to the snack aisle and barely making it past the corner before a scottish accent calls out your name.

you pause abruptly, turning your head to the sound as your eyes widened in utter shock when realization dawns at you.

two of your neighbors were standing there, just a few feet from you. mohawk giving you a wolfish grin while waving a teasing hand at you. the other man sending an apologetic smile your way for his friends behavior. god he was so much prettier up close.

“that’s ye right?” only being able to nod as his large body makes its way towards your direction. ocean eyes pinning you down in place with the way they roam around you, analyzing you. he wore a leather jacket, white shirt underneath that did nothing but enhance the way his chest stretched over the material. he wore a nice pair of jeans, topping of his outfit with a pair of black boots. he definitely had that bad-boy style look to him.

“way to make a lady feel comfortable mactavish. I’m sorry about him, luv. auntie lottie had mentioned us having a new neighbor and wanted to put a face to the name. I’m kyle, by the way, and this dog here is johnny.” the pretty man said, earning a small scoff from johnny, grumbling something about kyle not being any better than him. he wore a nice umber coat accompanied by a black turtleneck underneath. black slacks adoring his legs and a nice pair of chelsea boots. you would not even question if he was a model.

shit, you had been staring for too long, barely finding your voice before uttering something that sounded at least somewhat normal.

“I’m sorry for not introducing myself sooner, I don’t really get out much.” a nervous chuckle making its way past your lips as you try so hard to not make it so obvious of how you’ve been the one avoiding them this whole time.

“‘na need tae apologize bonnie. jus’ glad we caught ye jus’ in time. a’m sure tha’ other lads would love tae meet ye.” a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that can only be described as up-to-no-good with the way he’s staring at you.

“what he means is if you would like to come over some time, meet the rest of the team.” a charming smile plastered against his perfect lips that you don’t have it in your heart to say no. (not like you were going to in the first place)

you exchange numbers with johnny and kyle not missing the way their lingering gazes stay on you even after they leave.

sweet treat long forgotten.

a/n: we finally meet half of the boys RAAAA. i hope you guys like this chapter and if there’s anything that should be fixed like my god awful interpretation of scottish accent, please let me know! 😭 enjoy mis amores! <3

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thistle-wrote · 2 months ago

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Okay, could you guys imagine if the thing that finally got Ghost and soap together wasn’t some life or death situation where they’re forced to confront their feelings but rather Price's nosey, meddling wife?

F!reader X John Price and Ghost X soap

Authors note: This has been rattling around in my noggin for months.

“Hey, John?” you murmured as the two of you cleaned the mess left behind by the boys.

“Yeah, love?” John asks glancing up at you from the pile of dishes he’s working on

“You ever notice anything about Johnny and Simon?” you ask him in an almost cautious tone, these men meant more to him than he would ever care to admit.

“Yeah, drink their weight in liquor every damn time we have them over” your husband grumbled, you wonder sometimes if he’s willfully oblivious or just a man.

“No baby, like..” you thought for a moment. How exactly do you explain queer longing to your very straight husband?

“Okay like when Simon makes a joke he immediately looks at Johnny to see if he laughed. When Johnny has a question he only asks Simon. When Kyle says something stupid they look at each other like they have their language, like me and you do.” You do your best but John is all for minding his own business, he’s a pretty unproblematic guy overall, too old to care maybe.

“Lovie, mind your business, please. They’re grown men, if they have the hots for each other they can figure it out on their own.” John rolled his eyes at you and continued working. You didn’t love that, dismissing your want to gossip but it’s very John, makes you want to strangle him. You don’t bring it up again at least not for a few months, not until Kyle’s wedding, that was a very interesting trip as far as your snooping was concerned.

The moment Kyle and his beautiful wife said their ‘I do’s’ you glanced toward your husband in his fancy tan suit, remembering how that moment felt when it was the two of you standing at that altar. You can’t help the way your eyes drift from your husband to the blonde man behind him. Simon, much like you were looking at John, was looking at Johnny.

You knew from that point on you couldn’t let it go, they’re soldiers, they don’t talk about feelings, you know this, you sleep in a bed with one every night. The idea that they might miss out on potentially the greatest thing in either one of their lives because they’re either too stubborn or too stupid to realize what’s happening meant you didn’t have a choice, you had to meddle at least a little.

It started small, sitting in Johnnys seat when the group goes to a bar so he’d have to squish into the booth next to Simon, asking Johnny and Simon to watch the house while you and John were away for the weekend. Sure Kyle usually does it but he’s so busy with his new wife can’t you guys make the time? Asking Johnny, what is wrong with Simon when there is absolutely nothing wrong with him just so Johnny will have to pay more attention to figure it out.

You weren’t being malicious you were just trying to push them together, John was mostly unaware, although he occasionally gave you a look, specifically the time you asked Johnny if he thought ‘Simon’s haircut looked good’ (it did)

It eventually got a little more pushy. Not pushy in the sense that you were being mean or even trying to push them into something they didn’t want, because they want it. It’s just you knew soldiers, you knew these boys. They are dumbasses.

“Hey Simon?” you asked one Sunday afternoon. Simon had come over to watch some game with John, not unusual, although it is unusual for him to not have Johnny with him. This was your moment, John had gone to the bathroom so you wouldn’t have to hear “Stop being nosy, love!” You can just continue with your plan.

“Mm?” The quiet man asked you turning his head from the Telly to look at you. He’s not uninterested so much as he’s just quiet, you have known him for long enough to know that.

“How long have you and Johnny been dating?” You asked, you knew they weren’t dating. All part of the plan, all part of the plan.

“What?” He looked confused, you know him, maybe not as well as your husband but you know him. He can’t hide his facial expressions for anything, it’s probably best he wears a mask on the field.

“What?” You give the same facial expression as if trying to understand where his obvious confusion is coming from.

“We’re not dating, why did you think we were dating?” Simons interrogates you, it’s so rare that he says so many words you almost feel a little guilty.

“Oh, I’m sorry I just assumed.” Your tone is light, an honest mistake Simon, so sorry for the inconvenience.

“Why? Why did you assume that?” For the first time all the time you’ve known him he seems flustered.

“Oh, I just… you guys live together, always touching, talking quietly to yourselves, it’s just exactly like me and John. I just assumed dating, shouldn’t have.”

Your statement is made with kindness and a smile but one day you’ll tell him how you conned him into being in love.

“We’re not” Simon stated leaving no room for your argument. There was a long stretch of silence before he spoke again.

“Do you think he thinks we’re dating?” Well you didn’t expect that question, Johnny lacked common sense sometimes but he’s not stupid, no you did not believe he thinks they’re together.

“Yeah probably, I would.” LIES, one day you’ll have to confess to this but not today.

He left not too long after that conversation, and you kind of felt like you may have messed something up. But you shouldn’t doubt yourself, you know this, you’re like a wizard in the art of getting in other people’s business. Your self-doubt is as squashed the minute Johnnys' silly little contact photo popped onto your phone. A phone call, you answer.

“Hello?” You barely have time to start speaking before Johnny starts in. Poor guy.

“Si just texted me and said he talked to you bout somethin’ and it made him ‘realize some things’ that hell’s that about?” Rambling is funny on him, he’s always so calm and collected, now this is where you kinda hesitated, do you tell the truth or do you stir the pot? You settle on stirring the pot. For the greater good of course.

You ended up telling Johnny everything you and Simon spoke about, leaving nothing out, you simply just finished off your little story with a

“Who knows maybe it made him think hard enough he’s going to tell you how he feels.”

Johnny stays silent for a long moment on the other end of the line, mulling it over probably.

“So Si has the hots for me aye?”

You wish he could’ve seen your eye roll but you’re sure he heard your sigh.

“Just a hunch” you add maybe you could get him to make a move, he’s probably easier to work on than Simon anyway.

“Aye, good hunch, lass.” You are acutely aware that your husband still in fact doesn’t know you’re trying to convince his soldiers to break “no fraternizing” rules. But he will only be annoyed until he sees his mates so happy.

Your phone call with Johnny doesn’t last much longer. You feel like a Disney villain for a couple of minutes but then John put on his reading glasses so you kinda got a little distracted and ‘forgot’ to mention to him that you were psychologically manipulating his best friends for their good. You let fate do its thing now, you pushed enough.

Weeks maybe even months go by, and you haven’t seen the group in a bit, you and John are off in the kitchen making drinks while Kyle and his new wife make googly eyes at each other in your living room.

When Johnny and Simon finally decide to grace the group with their presence, you see it immediately, holding hands, nothing is different except for that. You and John rejoin the group at some point, talking and laughing like always, they don’t mention it, you don’t ask and neither does anyone else. But everyone knew something had changed, thank the gods.

You’re poor dumb husband looks at his two best friends after a while, once the food was mostly gone and the drinks had been flowing. He looks at them and then back to you before ducking down and whispering in your ear.

“Love? I know That’s your handiwork.” yeah NO SHIT, John. But they look so happy.

Horrifyingly years later once the whole story had been recounted they told that story at their wedding, which was, yes embarrassing but the thought that you helped bring these two beautiful souls together eased that pretty quickly.

CoD Masterlist

#price x reader #cod x reader #ghoap x reader #ghoap fic #simon ghost riley #captain john price x reader #john price #john price x you #john price x reader #price/reader #price x you #soap x fem reader #john soap mactavish #ghost soap #soap ghost

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dmitriene · 11 months ago

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mafia ghost, except while you thought you're his only and most precious pup, there's always has been johnny, being more than just a right hand to simon, having a place of his own at his feet as well, with mouth stuffed full and sky blue eyes shining with devotion.

you aren't suspected this kind of relationship between them, not until you opened simon's cabinet, greeted by the sight of him fucking in johnny's throat, thrusts rough and battering, making johnny's cheeks flush with leaking tears.

you could've feel jealous, bothered by the fact that all this time you weren't his special girl, if the mere sight of them weren't making you sopping wet beneath your panties, supple thighs rubbing together to relieve the ache, but simon can handle that, make you get along with johnny.

with him slurping on your slicky cunt, tongue flattening against your puffy folds, dancing against them with long stripes, making you scrabble on the brown strands of johnny's mohawk in despair, nudging his face further against your pussy, pretty hole pulsing for attention as you sit arching on simon's lap.

his puppies need to work together, not bicker for enough attention from simon, because he has much to give to the two of you, and it seems that you do like johnny after all, pleading for him to go faster where he fucks into your squelching pussy, thrusts desperate and sloppy.

sprawled on the cold surface of the desk, mouth open wide to accommodate simon's meaty cock, throbbing onto your tongue as he fucks your throat, cupping your jaw with a warm hand, as johnny bullies his lengthy cock against your sweet spots, moaning and pawing at your doughy tits like a true mutt.

he'd devour simon's cum out of your mouth afterwards, suckling on your tongue and flooding your clenching cunt full of his own seed, creaming you prettily for simon to take afterwards, warm and even more wet for another cock in your loose pussy.

main masterlist. quidelines.

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sageivyreads · 4 months ago

Text

cornered dogs

Ghoap/street kitty hybrid!fem!reader

introduction: hello! ok i lied i have no idea when the smut is happening because i can’t figure out how to integrate it into the story yet so this might just become a slow burn if i decide to continue it. also i have no idea how to write scottish accents please spare me!! part one and masterlist

contains/warnings: 4.4k words, brief description of a dog attack, reader is drugged, morally gray ghoap, mention of wounds, slightest of angst and mildest of comforts(ghost is a little mean), kinda unreliable narrator reader, r is forced into a bath but it’s for her own good, r is nicknamed ‘Kitty’ since they don’t know her name, 18+, no smut.

reader description: reader is an adult woman. no mention of race or size. her hair is briefly mentioned as ‘messy’ and fur ‘matted’. no mention of hair color or length. she also has scars. able bodied and doesn’t talk, but she will eventually.

It’s misty and wet when the boys (only Soap, Ghost never went to bed) wake in the morning. Furniture is strewn across porches, newspaper soggy on driveways, windshield wipers are propped up in piles of snow atop the car. The storm last night was not even near the calmest. It seemed to have a goal to ruin everyone’s day.

Ghost and Soap have their separate thoughts of worry about you. Soap, when he saw the harsh wind out the bathroom window when he was brushing his teeth. Ghost, when he stepped out of his apartment building for his morning jog and saw the mess the storm had left. It rains and snows frequently where they live, you should be fine, they try to reason with themselves.

And you were doing fine. You’d found sheets of metal in the trash to place over your temporary home for protection from the rain. Which was a few old cardboard boxes smushed together with ripped blankets and tattered rags. You had a full belly for the first time in months the night before, so you’d be okay without food for a bit.

But it’s not like you had someone telling you the weather, and you were underprepared. The wind is so harsh it causes the metal sheets to entirely crush your little home. You just narrowly throw yourself out when it comes crashing down, your knees scraping against the pavement.

You’re heartbroken. Devastated, as you stare at everything you once had been destroyed. But you can’t even feel it, can you? Not when the frost is biting at your nose, warning you of the need for shelter immediately.

You stand from the gravelly road on shaky legs, hugging your arms tight to your chest. The black hoodie is your thickest layer, and you put it on top while hoping it’d absorb some of the rain. Hail is beating at your face as you start to wander, looking for anything you might be able to use for shelter.

Boxes, piles of garbage, trash bags, anything. You come across a dumpster and you think you could slip in the gap between it and the concrete wall. You’ll still be cold, but it’ll protect you from the wind and rain. It fucking stinks. Hopefully you’ll be able to stand the smell.

You proceed, crouching to shift some trash bags stacked against the wall to hopefully slip between. The sound of a low rumble, different from the thunder, makes you stand once more. You turn, and your heart turns cold at the sight you’re met with.

There’s a snarling dog in front of you, hackles raised and legs bent low to the ground as it takes slow steps toward you. Saliva drips from its mouth and mixes with the rain and oil on the street.

The footsteps of the mutt mix with the tip taps of the rain, but your screams don’t.

Your escape is not swift nor scarless. It’s messy, but even after being attacked, you understand the animal. When cornered, everyone is an enemy. You think yourself more alike a pathetic dog than whatever part of you is hybrid.

There’s a nasty chunk taken out of your upper arm, but it’s not too deep. You’ll live.

This whole situation has left you unbelievably startled. You’re soaking wet and shaking, but not from the cold. Your tears are warm against the skin of your cheeks. You can feel scrapes and smears of warm blood on various spots of your body, but you can’t see any injuries other than the bite on your bicep you were currently pressing on with your opposite hand.

Your teeth dig into the split on your lower lip, nose bridge scrunched up from the pain. You’re tired. So tired. Now that the life-saving adrenaline has worn off, and you’re cold, alone, and wet, you only think of one place to go. The only familiar place you have left, really.

It’s a struggle up the stairs of the fire escape with how severely your legs are shaking. You’re worried it’s too late to be wandering so close to people. The storm had started around three in the morning, and after losing your home, searching for a new one, and being attacked, you’d now guess it was around five.

The men in the apartment woke up early, you knew that. But you couldn’t think too hard right now, not when you were so scared.

Your hands shake and slip on the slick surface of the window ledge. On the fourth try, you finally pry it open. You climb inside as quietly as possible, closing it behind you and sinking straight to the floor.

You leave smears of bloody fingertips on the edges of the window and drywall. Your back is against the wall, head slumped on your knees where you hug them to your chest. You wish your mind allowed you to sleep.

It’s only maybe an hour later when you see a light turn on in the other room. But you don’t- can’t fucking move. You’re paralyzed. Even as footsteps approach, even as the kitchen light turns on.

One of the men, the one you hadn’t had encounters with yet, sleepily steps into the kitchen. He’s tanner than the other one, shorter too. He’s got a funky, overgrown hairstyle. Maybe a mohawk in desperate need of a haircut?

He reminds you of the sun. If it were a rowdy, messy guy who had a guilty pleasure in reality TV.

He makes it to the cabinets, the coffee machine, and the fridge before he notices you. Or, the fingerprints. There’s a mug currently being filled by an automatic machine by the time he catches red on his window. His feet stutter to a stop, a frown starting as his lips before his eyes lower to you.

His expression softens, eyebrows raising in surprise at the sight of you. Bloody, clutching your injured bicep, shaking, and soaking wet. Your eyes are wet and surrounded by puffy, pink skin. Your hair clings to your face, the way your clothes do with your body.

“Hi there, sweet thing.” he coos, stepping a few feet away to pull his coffee out of the beeping machine. “Looks like someone’s had a rough night, huh?” He places the mug on the counter before he slowly sinks to sit against the cabinet across from you.

You stare. He’s got weird hair and an even weirder accent. He’s weird. It takes so much energy to even blink, you can’t believe you’re still conscious. You’re terrified, your heart pounding in your chest and ears, but all you can do is stare.

He slowly nods, “Yeah, figured. You must be cold. Mind if I grab ya a blanket? ‘ah can turn the heat up, too.”

All he gets is a blink in response. He stands, slow and measured even as his knees click. “Sit tight,” he urges. You don’t move. He walks out of your sight for a few moments, coming back with a blue wool blanket.

He approaches until he’s a few feet away, spreading out the blanket like wings and tossing it over you as best he can with the distance. It lands on your knees, not nearly high enough for your liking. Your icy fingers twitch. You slowly grip the end of the fabric to pull up to your collarbones.

His lips twitch into a frown at the sight. He wants to swaddle you, surround you in soft blankets and shiny things like a crow would with its mate. Wants to run you a warm bath, and give you another meal. Hot, this time.

But he can be patient. He doesn’t want to scare you off.

“Do ye want somethin’ to eat? Are you here because you’re hungry?” he asks, crouching to sit on the floor against the opposite counter once more. He sighs as he gets nothing in response besides a twitch of your eyebrow and the movement of your throat swallowing.

“Maybe I could get ya something for that arm? If y’let me see, I can help.” he tries to assure you the best he can, but he doesn’t exactly want to be attacked for trying to help. This is his first interaction with you, and it’s already not going great. He gives you a sad smile, and you notice a muscle twitch near his forehead. The crinkle in his skin leads to a star-shaped scar on his temple. You wonder where it’s from.

Soap’s head turns as he hears a clinking noise from the apartment hallway before the door opens. It’s the man you’ve seen before, dressed in joggers and a dark black hoodie, which you think might’ve been grey before it got soaked from the rain.

He locks the door behind him, slips off his shoes, and steps further into the home. He doesn’t notice you immediately either, but much quicker than Soap did. His steps slow once he reaches the kitchen counter, eyes flickering over Soap on the floor, to the bloody window, to you.

His eyes scan you, flicking up to the fingerprints on the window, and the bloody hand clutching your upper arm. Your wet skin and clothes. The way you tremble, the blanket Soap must’ve placed over you.

Soap stands to join him where he’s staring at you. “I found her like this when I came out for coffee this morning. She hasnae moved or talked.” Soap informs, giving you a concerned glance before refocusing on the other man.

All you do is observe as they talk about you. It feels like the cold has settled into your bones at this point, and you have a permanent brain freeze. You haven’t moved in so long, that you think you might actually turn into a statue if you don’t die from infection.

It’s quiet for a moment.

“She can’t stay like tha’. Gonna get hypothermia if she stays wet for any longer.” He digs into the pocket of his hoodie to drop his keys in some weird, wicker woven bowl before he starts towards you. You stiffen, fingers turning into fists against the blankets.

“Woah, woah, what’re ye doin’?” Soap quickly steps up with him, a hand on his arm and expression concerned.

Ghost’s face is blank as Soap stops him, but you notice a twitch on his lip. “I’m going to help her. What, you think she’s got fleas or somethin’?”

Soap scoffs, “How? ‘Cause she’s just gonna let ya touch her? She’s never even let any o’ us willingly see her, much less talk or touch.”

Ghost gives him a long look you can’t decipher, and huffs before he shrugs his hand off his arm and walks up to you. “What d’you think she came ‘ere for? She wants help and that’s wha’ she’s gonna get.”

He reaches down to grab you by your uninjured bicep and elbow, pulling you up to stand. He’s not the most gentle, but he’s not too rough. You stumble, legs shaky and stiff. You feel like rigor mortis is already settling into your muscles, even if you’re still alive.

“Simon,” Soap hisses, and you learn one of the men’s names. You try to step back toward the window, feet fumbling, but Simon nabs you back with a hand on your nape.

He doesn’t respond to Soap, one hand on your shoulder and another on the back of your neck as he guides you to walk in front of him.

The steps are forced and heavy like you’re some newborn calf who was learning how to walk. He guides you to the bathroom where he opens the door and walks you inside. You think your brain might’ve turned offline briefly, and came back on once you realized you were in danger (you aren’t). You don’t know what’s going on, and don’t remember how exactly you got here. What are you missing?

“You’ll be alright, love. We’ll take good care of you.” Soap tries to soothe, keeping up with the hulking man holding you. You glance at him, expression a little pinched. You’re still by the door and can see the living room through the hallway. You could still run. You’re faster than they are. Why are you trying to leave, again?

“Over ‘ere, Kitty.” the man you now know as Simon, says. He leans over the tub to start the faucet. Your eyes flick back to him but you barely blink. He sighs heavily and stands back to his full height. He takes a step and you take two backward, but he just grabs you by the arm and yanks you towards the bath.

His hand goes to the back of your neck again, forcibly shifting your gaze to look up at him. “Did ya freeze up there in tha’ little head of yours, too?” he huffs, lightly flicking your forehead with his free hand. You scrunch your nose, trying to pull away from him.

“No. You need a bath. You’re filthy and freezing.” he grumbled, pulling you to stand at the edge of the tub.

“Do y’need me to undress you?” he asks, keeping his face level with yours. You don’t know what’s wrong with you. Why you aren’t running when they are practically in your face and telling you they’re going to strip your clothes off.

“Si, fuckin’ ease up a bit, alright? She’s clearly startled. Let’s leave her to get undressed.” Soap butts in, stepping further into the bathroom and crossing his arms across his chest.

“Is tha’ what you want? Do y’need me to leave? I’ll leave if I know you’re going to get in.”

You sniffle, the only noise you’d made during this entire time. Your lower lip wobbles. You refuse to make eye contact. The blood on your arm has mostly dried at this point but your hand is still clutching it. Your other hand is fisting the blanket around your shoulders, feet like stone on the ground. If they both left, you think you probably would’ve looked for the nearest window so you don’t have a response to that.

“Alright,” he huffs, straightening next to you. He grabs your cold hands, pressing them to his shoulders and shaping them into a grip. The blanket falls and you shiver. “I’m going to undress you. You can squeeze if I touch somethin’ you don’t like, or I hurt ya. Understand? Squeeze if you understand me.”

Your gaze flicks up to him momentarily, but you can’t read anything behind his eyes. Your fingers flex to the best of your ability, and you think you’re squeezing, but your hand is too numb for you to be sure.

The blood on your hands transfers to the black fabric of his hoodie, but doesn’t show.

“Good,” he nods, kicking the blanket out of the way from where it gathered at your feet. His fingers slip under the hem of your layers, bringing your- his, ripped hoodie above your head, as well as your thinner layers, gaze only briefly wandering over your body. He seems to focus more on the scars than your chest.

He only shifts your grip briefly to let the articles of clothing fall to the floor before putting them back. He continues with your shirt, pants, and undergarments until you’re bare. Your eyes have fixed themselves on a wet patch on his shoulders, afraid that if you move he might go further than you’d like.

“In the bath now,” he confirms, and Soap reenters the conversation to help when Simon gestures for it. They move you like a doll. Simon moves your grip to the side of the tub, Soap moving one leg at a time into the bath. He guides you to sit, and you shiver violently at the temperature change.

Your teeth start clattering. Or maybe they had always been. Your hands hug your arms, crossed across your chest to give you some kind of modesty. It’s not much.

“Johnny. The door.”

Johnny, you learn, stands from his crouched position to close the bathroom door. Something he’d forgotten to in his rush to help. There’s something wet dripping down your face, and it takes you a moment to differentiate whether it’s tears or water dripping from your hair. You think it’s both.

You can vaguely hear some sort of conversation, but your mind seems to blur it out. When Johnny reenters your sight, he’s only in his boxers. You’d probably be taken aback by the amount of skin discoloration- scars, that were on his body if you didn’t have more important things to focus on. Like why he’s nearly naked and getting into the bath with you.

Whatever train of thought you had started conjuring immediately splutters to a stop. He steps into the bath behind you, and you cringe slightly at the thought of your previous wet clothes sticking to your skin.

One of your hands grips the side of the tub, looking to prepare for an easy escape. Johnny’s arm comes around you to grab your wrist and slip it from the edge, gathering both of them to press against your diaphragm in one of his larger ones.

You start to squirm, feet slipping against the tub in your search for momentum as he pulls you back against him. “Easy, lovely. You’re alright.” he coaxes into your ear, wrapping his free forearm around your collarbones and holding you in a loose chokehold as he leans against the back of the tub and takes you with him.

You don’t necessarily fight it, but by the way, your fingers curl into your palms and your breath hitches and stutters, you know they know you’re uncomfortable. Your throat chokes around a whimper as Simon steps around the tub back into your sight.

“Shhhh,” Johnny hushes, settling his chin in the crook of your shoulder. Simon had abandoned his hoodie, now in a black, athletic, tight-fitting shirt. The long sleeves were pushed up to his biceps, a wet clicking noise drawing your attention to his hands.

He was rubbing a plain bar of soap between his palms, slicking his hands before his attention turned towards you. He sets the bar on the side of the tub, reaching for your left foot first. He lifts it out of the water and holds it steady as his hands rub the filth off of you.

You’re already warming up by the time he finishes one leg and starts on the other, only wincing every once in a while when he brushes a scrape. The problem is, you think the cold was numbing your pain. Your temperature is rising and with it your pain.

Your bicep burns now, and tingles in some weird way. The only time you’re adjusted is for Simon to have a better angle to wash you. Johnny keeps you still, mumbling sweet things to you every once in a while. You think you’ve blocked him out at this point.

You’d winced and squirmed a little when he rinsed your wound with water. You didn’t have much of a choice. Your shoulders relax slightly as he finishes and steps away. He hasn’t touched your hair, tail, or ears yet, which only made you worried more for what’s to come. After a moment he returns with a black plastic bottle you can’t catch a good enough look to read.

You watch, wary as he uncaps the lid and holds your upper with his free hand. His hand tilts, spilling the clear liquid over your wound where it bubbles and turns white. You scream, throwing your head back and feeling Johnny flinch as your skull knocks against his chin.

“Fuckin’- easy, easy. We’re not trying to hurt you, calm down.” Johnny tries to soothe you while your squirming increases tenfold.

Johnny never releases you, only tightens his grip and throws a hairy, muscled leg over your hips when your kicking becomes a problem. You squeeze your eyes shut, fresh tears slipping down your newly clean cheeks as your lips part on a sob. It stings, it fucking stings. Why did they do that? What’s wrong with them?

You think you get lost in the white, tight pressure of your eyelids for a moment because when you come back, there’s white gauze and bandages wrapped around your upper arm. You’ve stopped moving. Your lips are parted to let out panicked pants and the whites of your eyes feel irritated.

“Kitty,” Simon speaks so suddenly that your eyes flick up to meet his. A few strands of hair fall in front of your face and you flinch when he smoothes them back. “Relax. We’re not tryin’ to hurt you. You need to cooperate. You hear me? Don’t bite.”

He uses a rough thumb to wipe the tears from your cheeks before he uses that same hand to pry your jaw open, watching as your eyelashes flutter rapidly. He holds your mouth open and uses his free hand to drip a few drops of water into your mouth from a glass cup you have no idea where or when he got.

You stiffen, confused, watery eyes locked on his. He then puts the cup on the bathroom counter and places two small pills on your tongue. You have ample time to bite him. You don’t, reason unknown to you.

He then closes your mouth and watches you closely as he tells you, “Swallow.” You do and can see the way he stares to see if your throat bobs. “Open,” he urges, and this time you do it on your own. When he finds nothing, he praises you with a quiet “good girl.”

“Pain meds. They’ll help ya feel better,” he adds before you even think to ask. You think your brain has been put on a backtrack or something since you stepped into their house. Maybe it was the cold, maybe it was the pain. But now all you can think about is how they could help you every day. Maybe not. They’re too overbearing. Right.

Simon leans over to reach for a bottle labeled ‘shampoo’, but stops when Johnny speaks up. “Si, maybe let’s leave that for another day. Today has already been a lot.” He pauses, and stares, which he seems to do a lot. He grunts in response, leaning over to unplug the tub.

‘Another day’ completely goes over your head.

Your hair is.. well, it’s a mess. You’ve tried to keep it somewhat short so it doesn’t have so much upkeep, but it’s not like there’s a free barber at every corner. the matted fur on your tail and ears you… don’t even want to talk about it.

“I’m gonna let go now, alright?” Johnny says next to your ear, tone soft enough it doesn’t make you jump this time. You nod hesitantly, the first type of communication you’ve ever given to them. He slowly releases you and Simon reaches his hands out for you to grab. You do, slowly, letting him help you stand and step out of the tub.

Johnny lugs himself out of the tub, grabs a towel, and excuses himself from the room. Simon wraps you up in a fluffy, gray towel, rubbing and patting at your face and shoulders until you’re mostly dry. And you kind of just.. stand there. Johnny comes back a few moments later, clothed and dry now, holding a few articles of clothing in his hands.

“Got some clothes for ya,”

Your gaze turns towards him, and you shiver and cross your arms across your breasts once Simon lets the towel drop. He holds a few things up to your body to see what fits best. He dresses you in boxers, one layers of pants, a short-sleeved shirt, a long-sleeved shirt, and a long-sleeved shirt.

You almost wish they had something warmer. Or a raincoat, maybe? But beggars can’t be choosers, can they? At least the socks they tug onto your feet are warm and fuzzy.

You let them move you around like a puppet on strings. One man slipping your arms into the sleeves, one man pulling boxers up your hips. Once they finish, Simon heads over to your clothes.

You watch as Simon picks them from the floor, Johnny adjusting your new outfit to fit you more comfortably, and shoves them right in the bathroom trash.

Johnny watches the way your expression drops as you look at him and shoots Simon a look. “Sorry, lovely. These clothes are yours now.” He tries to placate, his eyes soft as he looks at you. You frown.

“Right,” Simon grunts, “Hoodie got all ripped up. The rest are beyond saving. You’ll wear this now.”

Johnny places a hand on your shoulder, guiding you out to the connected living room and kitchen. You’re disappointed, but you don’t think you can be mad when they’ve done all this for you. You have nothing from before. Maybe that’s okay.

“Ye ready to leave?” he asks, riffling through a cabinet in the kitchen. It takes a moment before you nod. “Think the storm is dying down. You can stay until it’s over, f’you want.”

You shake your head, subtly, instinctively, stepping towards the window. “That’s alrigh’, won’t make ya.” he smiles, showing you his palms up before he takes a step back.

They don’t say anything. They seem to go back to whatever they were doing before you. Soap grabs his cold coffee off the counter and pops it in the microwave, a few beeps sounding out as it turns on. Simon has carried his hoodie back out from the bathroom and placed it on the coat rack by the door.

It almost seems too natural. Practiced.

Your feet feel cold and heavy when you take another step towards the window. You swear they were warm just a moment ago.

While you blink away some blurriness from your vision, you’re hyper-aware of the excess saliva gathering in your mouth. Fuck, please don’t throw up, you urge.

When your gaze refocuses on the window, the rain looks like a watercolor painting. The muscles behind your eyes ache. Your foot is taking another step before you permit it.

Your newly socked feet cause you to slip slightly, one hand snapping out and you just barely have enough time to grip the cedge of the kitchen counter. Your head pounds.

“Och, easy, Kitty.” Johnny gentles, coming up behind you and placing his now cold hands on your shoulders. You don’t know when you got so hot. Feverish.

“Let’s go sit ya down with Simon, yeah?” he asks, but it’s not really a question as he already starts to guide you towards the couch where Simon is sat. You don’t remember seeing him walk that way.

Johnny sits you on the couch next to him, who lifts an arm to coax your head into his lap. He pets his hand over your head, his fingertips feeling the heat of your skin as he brushes against your cheeks.

He pushes your hair back from your face and you let your eyes fall shut solely because of the intense nausea taking over you. Your lips part to let out slow, harsh breaths.

“I don’t feel so good,” you moan, voice slurring, fingers curling into a fist against the fabric of Simon’s pants. The room feels like it’s spinning.

“I know, love.”

notes: sorry for the abrupt ending! also i don’t mind tagging people so go ahead and ask if u want!

tag: @pagesfalling

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frudoo · 1 month ago

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Getting absolutely ruined by Simon, his hand gripping your neck and pulling you back as he pounds into your poor little cunt from behind. His hips are all force but his lips are silk on your skin, filthy grunts accompanied by the occasional muttered praise he gives you.

But the second Johnny walks in through the bedroom door, Simon is out of you and on his knees on the floor, tongue lolled in waiting.

“Mm, ye wanna suck me cock tha’ bad, love?” Johnny hums, hooking his finger beneath Simon’s chin and forcing him to look into his eyes.

“Yeah,” Simon nods pathetically, whining when his hands are denied exploration of the younger man’s body.

Johnny’s gaze cuts over to your shivering body still arched on the bed, two of your own measly fingers stuffed inside of your pussy to try and replicate the delicious stretch that was so rudely taken from you.

“Then ye best ge’ back t’our sweet lass o’er there,” the Scot runs his fingers through Simon’s short blond hair, tugging slightly.

“Cannae leave ‘er ‘angin’, can we, babeh boy? Ye were bein’ sae guid t’er, dinnae stop now.”

#did someone say switch simon #i need to write more ghoap at some point #ghoap x reader #simon riley x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #fem!reader

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karlachismylife · 8 months ago

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Oh shit not me wondering if my new fem!ghoap thing will be visible since it's a reblog technically...

Comrades it's here have some shower fem!ghoap brainrot I'm just still completely unaware of the ways of tumblr sorry.

#ghoap #fem!ghoap #ghost x soap #ghost cod #soap cod #fem!soap #fem!ghost #call of duty #cod #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley

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swordsandholly · 1 year ago

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Fancy

Ch 2: Just Be Nice to the Gentlemen, Fancy

Previous | Next | Ao3

NSFW | MDNI

Vampire! Poly 141 x Fem! Plus Size! Reader

Word Count: 7k

Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.

Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.

A/N: Y’all are getting updates to two fics in a row bc my Wellbutrin has well and truly kicked in. Say thank you to big pharma or whatever

A week passes. You tucked that wad of cash into your special hiding spot behind the vent above your bed. It still feels like it’s burning a hole through you. You made lists of things everything you could possibly spend it on, how much each item costs individually, how much it might help if you save it. In the end, you decided - rather impulsively - to get all new water filters for your entire apartment. The shower head and both sinks. It eats away most of the cash but you’ve never felt so clean - never realized the amount of sludge sticking to your skin until it wasn’t anymore.

The four men haven’t come back, at least to your knowledge. Most likely they’re done with you after that single meeting. They’ve gone back to Cherry and you’re back to working as a server - having meager tips shoved down the bust of your dress and too rough hands grabbing your inner thighs.

After the gentile treatment you received, though, you feel a bit disgusted. Reminded that they choose to be this way. That vampires aren’t just like that, they aren’t made like that, they choose to treat you - to treat humans - terribly. It makes your gut churn with anger in a way it hasn’t since you were an over-achieving teen sneaking out to attend protests in the lower city square.

It is what it is. Life goes on.

The train lurches on your way to work, as usual. News and advertisements scroll along the screens lining the top of the cabin.

TWO DEAD: LOWER THIRD STREET - BOTH EXSANGUINATED

DISAPPEARANCES CONTINUE TO GROW IN NUMBER IN THE FRENCH QUARTER

ONCE AGAIN THE CITY COUNCIL OVERRULES SUIT FOR HUMAN REPRESENTATIVE CHAIR

UNIDENTIFIED SUBSTANCE FOUND IN JANE DOE

With grit teeth you tear your eyes away. People around you whisper, conspire about what might be going on. As if you all don’t already know what’s happening. As if there isn’t a cancer in this city centuries old.

Nothing is new under the constant night.

Life goes on.

You sigh, quietly checking yourself in the mirror before locking up your things in the employee break room and punching in your time card. Before you can even step foot toward the main floor, a girl with pitch black hair begins charging toward you.

“You!” Cherry stomps up to you, voice cracking with anger. Her platform boots raise her up above your level.

You nearly jump out of your skin, instinctively backing away and against the wall. “W-what -“

“You stole my clients!” She shrieks.

“I- what?”

“Cherry.” The owner warns, appearing behind her. A shadow looming over the two of you. A man ready to grab the scruffs of two warring kittens. A few other girls who just arrived for their shifts stare with wide, nervous eyes.

The last time there was a fight here a girl got her eye stabbed out.

“You took them! They’re my best paying clients and you took them! What did you do, huh? You suck their cocks for free?” Her face is barely an inch from yours and a sharp acrylic nail pokes your chest so harshly you’re surprised it doesn’t break skin.

It’s your turn to fume - face hot and hands balling into fists. “How dare you! I swear to god I-“

“Ladies!” The owner booms, grabbing both your shoulders, effectively putting an end to this little spat before it can escalate further. “Quiet. Our guests will hear you. Cherry, go smoke a cig and cool the fuck off. Fancy, follow me.”

You feel a bit like a child on their way to the principles office as you follow the owner toward the bar, wringing your hands and glancing around wildly. Despite your irritation, fear creeps through every part of you. The other girls are staring - whispering to each other behind perfectly manicured hands.

“I - sir - I really didn’t-“ You stop when that same gold tray is shoved into your hands.

“I don’t care what you did or didn’t do.” He sighs loudly. “They’re requesting you.”

“But I don’t-“

“I. Don’t. Care.” He points at you in much the same fashion as Cherry before him. “Your job is what our guests want you to do. So go do your job”

Your jaw clicks as you shut it. Cherry is glaring absolute fucking daggers at you from the back room, her sparking red dress nearly matching the shade of her face. You can’t blame her. You’re taking her clients, her paycheck, her survival. It makes you feel a bit monstrous, if you’re honest with yourself. There isn’t any time to focus on that too much as you’re ushered to the private booths. There’s no reason for you to give this up, either. If they want you they want you, and it’s their fault for kicking her to the curb.

It’s your survival too, at the end of the day.

It feels eerie to walk down this corridor again. To stand before that heavy curtain again. Your hands don’t shake this time, though. Even with the added tension from your previous interaction they remain steady.

They’re seated the same as before. Simon’s mask is different - a regular balaclava as opposed to the skull. You realize that his eyebrows and lashes are blonde - so strangely soft for such a harsh looking man. They’re all dressed far more casually, it seems. All the way down to Johnny’s sneakers that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe based on the brand. John has traded his suit coat for a simple one with sherpa lining. Kyle braided his hair since last time.

“Evenin’, Fancy.” John smiles warmly. The way it makes your heart flutter is utterly shameful.

“Hello.” You smile, tilting your head and setting down the tray. Same as before. Rinse and repeat. They ordered liquor this time - bourbon, you think. Maybe scotch. Same difference. “You’ve gotten me into trouble.”

“Have we, now?” John drapes an arm over the back of the booth.

“Cherry isn’t exactly happy.” You fake pout as you hand out the glasses. “Thinks I did something salacious to steal you away.”

“How do you know you didn’t?” John gives you a once over. Blue eyes dragging down every curve and angle of your body.

“I suppose I don’t.” You sigh. “Nothing in my right mind, though.”

“Sorry about that, love. It’s for your own good.”

“Right.” The only thing more powerful than plausible deniability is actual deniability. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Can get yer pretty little arse over here.” Johnny grabs you by the waist, setting you down in his lap. You gasp at the sudden motion, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders for balance.

“I think ‘little’ is a bit of a misnomer, there, hun.” You snicker.

“Aye, as it should be.” His hand wanders to pinch your hip.

“You’re a dog, Mr. MacTavish.”

“Och, ye wound me, lass.”

You glance over at Simon briefly, eyes meeting his. He tilts his head forward. Those dark eyes hold no less intensity than before. They take you in like they want to eat you whole. He probably does.

John must signal him - a nod or a curl of finger - because you’re being passed into the center of the booth again and set right up at John’s side. Vampire covens are simple things. Strong hierarchies that are rarely challenged unless a leader falls or fails spectacularly.

Top dog gets the chew toy.

“I like the change of attire.” You smile, tugging at the soft sherpa of his coat.

“Suits not your style?”

“They’re nice… I see so many of them, though.” You lean into his side, letting your head fall back on his shoulder. “Besides, this fits you better, I think. Matches the beard.”

You let your hand venture up to trace along his jaw, reveling in the gentle scratch of his beard. It’s pleasant. Well cared for. You briefly wonder what his budget for beard products is. He leans into the touch. You’ve always wondered how you to feel to them. Is it a gentle warmth or a scorching flame? Either way, they never seem to mind.

“You boys planning on talking business tonight?” You tilt your head.

“Ah, not tonight.” He chuckles, taking your hand and pressing a light kiss to the back of it. “Tonight is purely about rest and relaxation. Need it after the week we’ve had.”

Somehow the other three manage to melt into the background. You might not know much - if anything - about him, but John Price is the type of man to fill a room all on his own. You felt that the first time you saw him.

“I can certainly help with that.” You grin, letting your hand trail up his thigh. You move slowly, waiting to see how he reacts, and go to hook a leg across his lap to straddle him.

To your surprise, he just grabs your waist and sets you back into your seat. “Don’t need to do all that, luv. Just talk with us.”

Part of you wants to laugh. There’s no way guys like this are the lonely, chatty type. But then, as you take in his face, you can see the exhaustion in his eyes. Vampires don’t get bags under their eyes or stress lines, but it still shows. Still swirls in their irises so distinctly.

“Wanted to pick your brain about somethin’, actually.” John sighs, taking a slow sip from his drink.

You scoff. “Me?”

“You’re a smart girl.”

“Am I?” You can’t help but laugh. “What, you need help picking out some lingerie for your mistress?”

John rolls his eyes at you. Kyle chuckles behind him. They’re far more quiet than last time. At least, the little bit you remember form last time.

“Our company has had some recent… expansions.” John mulls his words over carefully, which sets of alarm bells in the back of your mind. “We want to take the opportunity to do something for the lower city.”

“Why?” You spit far too honestly - involuntarily dropping the facade of an escort. What are they doing to pull this out of you? Is it compulsion?

Just as John opens his mouth to answer you, a phone rings. Loud and piercing through the tension in the air. Simon sighs loudly and answers, speaking so low you aren’t sure if he’s speaking at all. All eyes are trained on him. Except yours. You look around at the strain in their faces. The dread.

Simon grunts something before hanging up. “We’ve got a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” John demands.

“The kind we can’t leave til’ tomorrow.”

There’s a collective groan throughout the room. Johnny looks like he wants to smash the closest thing he could find.

“Fuckin’ hell…Sorry, darling. Looks like we’ll have to resume this another time.” John sighs loudly and takes your hand to help pull you from the booth. He pauses with you off to the side - glancing over his shoulder and nodding to the others as they pass through the curtain before turning back to you. “Can I trouble you for a kiss at least? To tide me over?”

“Always.” Once again, the response is far too automatic for your liking. Then again, there are worse things than happily kissing a good looking man. Even if he is what he is.

John chuckles. It’s low and rich and causes you to lean forward despite yourself. Sometimes you forget just how alluring they’re built to be. Made to draw you in. An angler fish. John leans forward to meet you, still holding your hand in his. His lips are cool, a little rough but also gentle. There’s a hint of almost desperation in the way he pushes closer before who you can only assume is Simon clears his throat.

“Pay for a full night plus tip - as an apology for leaving so suddenly. Take the rest of the night, dove.” John smiles down at you and presses another tied roll of cash into your palm. “Don’t want my favorite girl having to scrape by for tips after we leave. Bad look, that.”

“T-thanks…” You murmur, keeping your eyes locked on him. Almost afraid to look down at the amount in your hand. There’s a heft to it that you both appreciate and are terrified of.

John pats your hand and leans forward to place a rather chaste kiss on your cheek before disappearing out the curtain just like that first time.

You’re not sure how much more unbridled tenderness you can handle.

~~~

It’s not even a full week before they’re back. This time, it’s just Kyle and Johnny who greet you on the other side of the curtain. That fact should relax you - not having to focus your attention on so many men should make it easier. Instead, it feels foreboding after the way they left last time. It makes your shoulders tense.

Why are you worried about John? A little voice in the back of your head questions. Why are you worried about a fucking vamp?

“Hello.” You murmur, setting the usual tray on the table seemingly in slow motion. “Just the two of you today?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Kyle grins. “We’re more than enough company.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You hum, passing out their drinks and sliding into the curved booth to get between them.

“Nothing to cure a shit week like blowin’ off a little steam with a pretty woman.” Kyle tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his other hand coming to rest on your thigh. Dogs without their leashes.

You hum. “Work got you down? You had that ‘problem’ last time.”

“Och, aye. Been a right bitch lately.” Johnny groans, tilting his head back and slinging an arm around your shoulders on the back of the booth. “At least we got that one bit sorted.”

“It was your own damn fault.” Kyle scoffs at him.

“Oi. Maybe if you payed attention to who-“

Kyle grabs Johnny’s lips, pinching them shut. “Price said not in front of the girl.”

You glance between them. The last thing you need is to be sat in the middle of a vampire brawl. Goodbye mortal plane if so.

That seems to be enough to get Johnny to drop it, opting to throw back his drink in one fell swoop and scoot in closer to you, strong arm looping around your waist.

Kyle’s hands trace down over your shoulders. “You’re a fuckin’ luxury, baby girl.”

“Can I have a kiss, hen?” Johnny leans close, fingers tracing your jaw.

Your lip quirks up. “Can you afford a kiss? Seeing as I’m such a luxury, apparently.”

It’s Kyle who moves next - pulling you fully into his lap and pushing you further into Johnny. “We can afford much more than that, love.”

The tip of a fang grazes your neck. It’s slow, gentile, not nearly enough to break the skin. Not quite a threat.

A promise.

It’s barely a hair of movement. A slight tilt, a minute lean and your lips press against Johnny’s. His lips are cold but softer than you expected. Your hands find his shoulders, his tongue darts across your lower lip and you part for him. A well memorized dance. Kyle’s hands drag up your hips to rest on your waist, holding you in place between them.

“D’you have any idea how good you smell?” Kyle murmurs in your ear.

“Or taste.” Johnny sighs into your lips. You pull back, snickering and wiping your lipstick off his lips. He has the prettiest, dopiest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Come home with us?” Kyle asks, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “We’ll take such good care of you.”

“You just got here.” You murmur.

“An’ now we’re askin’ if ye’d like tae come home with us.” Johnny grins.

You tilt your head back, debating on how to ask about pay. It’s a question that needs to be asked, but a sensitive one at the same time. You don’t want to offend, but you don’t want to end up walking away from their home empty handed. Just as you go to open your mouth and subtly talk rates, you’re cut off.

“How’s 5k sound, lovie?” Kyle murmurs. Are they fucking mind readers?

You pray they don’t notice the way you choke briefly, body tensing for a fraction of a second. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit! That’s more than twice what you make in month.

“I’ll take that bewildered stare as a yes.” He laughs, moving a hand from your waist to knead at your hip.

They call a car. You don’t have to explain where you’re going to anyone - being pressed between them is enough. It used to be a little shameful for you to walk out on a man’s arm for the whole club to see. When you were young and not quite so resigned to the state of the world - when you hadn’t quite realized that the only god you should care for is green and made of paper. These days you couldn’t care less. They all know, and they’re all taking part in the same debauchery (or jealous that they can’t afford to.) It’s all goods and services, at the end of the day.

Johnny wastes no time pulling you into his lap as soon as you climb into the car - a massive, black SUV that still smells brand new. At least the seats are soft on your knees as you hover over his lap.

“No, no, full weight on me, bonnie.” He grabs your hips and pushes you to sit on his thighs. “Tha’s it.”

His hand disappears under your skirt, two fingers tracing up your sex through the thin cloth of your underwear. Messily grinding while placing sloppy, open mouth kisses along your neck and shoulder. You gasp and whine as he presses against your clit. Just enough to tease, always moving away before you can properly grind down on him. Fucking tease. Kyle watches with an appreciative grin lazily spread across his face.

Your eyes widen to saucers as you pull up to the building. One of the biggest residential skyscrapers in the city. A glowing paragon. One of only five you can see at all times from any part of the city. You’re pretty sure, if you could get to the top, that you would be able to point out your apartment. If you could see it through the smog, that is.

Kyle pins you to the wall of the elevator, lips intertwined with yours and a hand twisted in your hair. Yours knot into the material of his coat. He tastes like liquor and something you can’t quite place. Something sweeter than candy and far more satisfying.

You glance over his shoulder at Johnny just as the man readjusts his pants. He grins, keeping his hand there to palm himself as soon as he catches your eye.

Cheeky bastard.

The elevator stops so gently you might have missed it if not for the dinging and the doors parting. Kyle pulls you out into a small foyer while Johnny fumbles for a keycard.

You think you might have a heart attack when they slip you through one of the two massive front doors. It has to take up the entire floor - or at least most of it. There’s a whole pool on the right side of the balcony. An area that looks like a greenhouse mirrors it to the left. Floor to ceiling windows allow you to see the faux stars so clearly up here.

“Do you all live here?” You ask quietly, staring around the massive penthouse.

The decor is simple. Dark, heavy woods and expensive, rich toned fabrics. It doesn’t have that sterile air that so many vampire homes have. It looks lived in. Used. Even with the obviously untouched kitchen. To this day you don’t understand why vampire homes have them at all. A formality, you suppose.

Johnny nods. “Och, aye, but John and Si are… workin’.”

You decide it’s probably smartest not to pry into whatever “work” means. “So, the mice will play while the cats are away?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Kyle nods, a little smirk playing across his face.

You glance away, debating on asking a possibly invasive question. You can’t ever be too careful with the hierarchy of covens. “And John doesn’t mind you… having me first?”

They blink at you for a moment before bursting out laughing. Your face heats. It makes you feel childish, as if you asked a stupid question. It’s not a stupid question. It’s perfectly valid! At least thats what you’ve heard from other working girls…

“Oh, no, doll. He doesn’t care.” Kyle grins and hooks an arm around your shoulders.

“Might be a bit miffed he wasnae here tae join in on the fun but he’s not jealous like tha’.” Johnny mimics him with an arm around your waist as they pull you to the side.

The two exchange a look briefly with grins plastered across their faces before turning you to the right and leading you down a short hallway. A large, wooden door opens into a bedroom that could swallow your apartment whole. The decor is a bit chaotic - clothes lay across the floor leading to the bathroom and two walls are covered from the floor to halfway up with drawings and paintings.

You know what you’re here for but you can’t help wandering over to them and staring. They’re so intricate. Every detail rendered perfectly. Some are from the city, others are from far away places you aren’t sure exist anymore. A few portraits of the boys here and there and some other people you don’t know. A sketch of a man with scars littering his strong face catches your eye.

“Whose are these?” You ask in a hushed whisper, as if speaking too loudly will disrupt them.

“Ah, mine.” Johnny saunters up behind you, hands resting on your broad hips.

“They’re beautiful…” You’ve only seen art like this in the museums you visited in school.

“Could do one of ye. Ye’d make a bonnie portrait.” He murmurs, pressing his cheek to yours.

Your gut reaction is to say yes. Is that how you want to be remembered, though? Just another face only immortalized on some creature’s wall. A nameless face from eras gone by. Would he write your name down? Would they remember you in a hundred years? In fifty years? In ten, even?

You settle on a gentle “Maybe.”

Johnny takes the hint, turning you toward the bed where Kyle is already leaned. “Gonnae tear a hole in my damn pants if we donnae get a move on.”

The bed is huge, to say the least. Circular and outfitted with layers upon layers of soft pillows and probably the highest thread count sheets you’ve ever seen. It’s unmade, the comforter falling halfway off one side of it. Not that you need it for what’s to come.

Johnny kneels behind you as soon as you step between Kyle’s legs where he’s sat on the bed. Deft hands unbuckle the straps of your heels. Little nips and kisses trail up your thighs. Kyle reaches around you and presses his lips to yours - so softly - before carefully pulling down the zipper of your dress.

It’s so easy to let them take charge. To be a doll for them to do as they please. There are worse things in life than being delicately undressed by two handsome (and well paying) men. Their hands are far more gentle than you expected while they strip you, muttering little appreciative hums and compliments so low that you almost miss them. You stand bare before them, letting them take you in. Hands and eyes roaming. Johnny presses a sweet kiss to your cunt before standing, sending a little jolt up your spine.

He grins like he won some game you didn’t even know you were playing.

You turn to carefully peel off Johnny’s shirt. Your lip catches in your teeth as you run your hands over hard muscle and through a layer of thick, downy hair that leads to the waistband of his pants. So distracted by the sight before you that you don’t notice Kyle pressing against your back, locking you between them as they kiss above you. A shiver runs through you as you watch their jaws flex and hands grapple for one another.

Fucking Christ.

Sometimes you forget how good it is to fuck people you’re actually attracted to. Even if they are paying customers the same as the rest.

An unceremonious squeak escapes you when you’re suddenly flung onto the bed. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to bounce until Johnny appears on top of you, fingers pinching at the soft fat on your sides and laving at your neck with a cool tongue. He keeps his teeth out of the way as he moves down your body to take your nipple between his lips. Much appreciated.

“Need a taste, bonnie. Ye smell so good. So sweet.” Johnny whines, kneeling between your legs. You watch him lower himself slowly as Kyle slots in behind you, shirt long forgone and hands tracing up your sides to knead at your breasts.

As much as you want to pout at not getting to see Kyle undress, you can’t focus on much other than Johnny’s mouth diving into you. Your instinct is to close your legs at the sudden onslaught, but Johnny’s hands keep them solidly in place - spread wide and hooked around his arms.

“Fuck.” You gasp, head tilting back onto Kyle’s shoulder. Your hand wanders down, carding through Johnny’s mo-hawk. He places a harsh suck to your clit and your fingers tighten around the hair at the base of his neck involuntarily pushing him further into you.

You expect him to be upset, for a brief moment, that you’ve been too rough with him. Took too much charge. Instead he just keens desperately against you, picking up the pace - devouring you like a man starved.

“C-Christ, Johnny!” You gasp, fingers digging further into his scalp and the sheets.

“He likes it when you’re mean t’him.” Kyle murmurs in your ear. “Got him fuckin’ pussy drunk already.”

You roll your hips down onto his tongue as he flattens it against you, grinding his face into your pussy. He shifts, never breaking contact, and slips two thick fingers inside you. You whine, eyes screwed shut as you ride it out. Kyle grabs your chin, tilting you back into a kiss. All it takes is Johnny curling his fingers to send you toppling over the edge, back arching sharply.

Johnny rears back onto his haunches just as you peel your eyes back open, chin slick and shiny. His hands desperately pull at his belt and fly. “Cannae take it anymore.”

Kyle chuckles, smiling down at you. “You’d think after two centuries he’d learn a little patience.”

You smile back, quip dying in your throat as Johnny grinds his uncut cock between your folds - coating it in your slick. Fuck, he’s thick - punching every bit of air in your lungs as he pushes in.

“So fuckin’ warm.” He moans, brow furrowed and lips parted.

Lord help you, he’s beautiful. Even beyond that statuesque perfection all vampires have, he must have been gorgeous in life. Kyle is too, you realize as you tilt your head back to kiss him. You wonder what they would look like with ruddy cheeks - with faces warm as yours is. If Johnny would blush all the way down to his chest. If they tanned. Burnt. Freckled. Ran warm or cold. All the little differences that come with a beating heart.

All thoughts disappear at once as Johnny rolls his hips into you. You gasp, “Please.”

That’s all he needs, apparently, setting a brutal pace off the bat. Pushing you back into Kyle with every thrust with enough force that your teeth nearly knock together. Kyle’s fingers continue to pluck at your nipples. You can feel his still clothed cock pressing against your back, hips twitching at the brief friction.

“Fuck. Alright.” Kyle grunts, moving from behind you - leaving you flopping back on the bed with your hands fisting the sheets. You can hear his belt coming undone but can’t bring yourself to focus on it with Johnny relentlessly pumping into you. That is until Kyle taps the head of his cock against your lips, kneeling beside you.

He’s pretty. Not as thick as Johnny but perfectly proportioned. He doesn’t even have to ask or press forward, you want it between your lips. Seek it out. It’s cool on your tongue, calming under the relentlessness that is Johnny.

“Been tae long since we had somethin’ so nice an’ soft in our bed.” Johnny whines. As if that fact genuinely pains him.

Kyle hums in agreement, taking his time fucking into your mouth. “That it has.”

He reaches over to grab Johnny by the back of the neck, pulling him until their lips crash together. Johnny’s hands tighten where they hold you and Kyle’s pace picks up.

“Fuck, she likes tha’.” Johnny pulls back just enough to speak. “Clenchin’ down on me.”

All you can manage is a whine in response - body on fire. Every nerve feels like it’s pulsing, the whole of you utterly consumed by them. Johnny lifts your hips off the bed, arching your back so that he can fuck up into you. The new angle leaves you desperately moaning. Practically singing around Kyle’s cock as your climax hits you like a train. Rocking through you and tensing every muscle.

“Thassit, love, doin’ so good f’us.” Kyle cards his fingers through your hair. It’s strangely gentle, considering the way his cock now bullies the back of your throat while Johnny’s ruts against your g-spot. “How’s she feel, Johnny?”

The man in question just babbles incoherently, fingers digging into your wide hips enough that they’ll surely bruise. At least he’s aware enough not to crush you entirely. Kyle chuckles at him, the sound cutting off in a moan as you angle to take him deeper and wrap your hand around the length you can’t take.

“G-gonnae cum.” Johnny stutters, rhythm faltering and becoming more shallow as he approaches the edge. He pulls out with a choked groan, fucking his fist as he spills onto your thigh.

Kyle mercifully pulls away, letting you gasp for air. Your voice will be raw tomorrow, but fuck if it isn’t worth it when you’re getting fucked like that.

Johnny sighs, collapsing on his back. “Gi’ me a minute…”

“Gettin’ old, Johnny?” Kyle quips.

“Feck off.” He grunts, turning to look at you as you catch your breath. You can’t quite interpret the look in his eyes - whatever it may be - before Kyle is lifting you up at the waist.

“C’mere, love.” Kyle pulls you, sitting back on his haunches and turning your back to him. Your legs tremble uselessly, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he moves you into place. He doesn’t waste time sitting you on his cock. Kyle isn’t as rough as Johnny, taking his time with lifting off and dropping you onto his cock. A slow motion of your hips while his hands squeeze the soft layer over your waist.

“Fuck, Kyle…” You sigh, head lolling against his shoulder.

“Y’like that, baby?” He murmurs, kissing up your shoulder and neck. One hand moves from your waist to travel up the valley of your breasts. It doesn’t quite wrap around your throat, just rests at the base of it - index finger hooking into your necklace.

It’s a leisurely roll of your hips against each other. A break from the brutal pace before. He’s not desperate like Johnny - instead taking his time whispering sweet nothings and dirty words into your ear. Movements slow and easy.

You think, for a moment, that this is the closest you’ve ever been to “making love.”

Then again, maybe you’re just cock drunk.

You don’t notice Johnny getting up until he’s in front of you, hands on your thighs and lips crashing against yours. Already hard and leaking again after only a handful of minutes. Even for a vampire, that’s pretty damn impressive.

“Bonnie, please.” He moans into your mouth. Cool hands take yours and wrap them around his cock, setting a rhythm to match Kyle’s thrusts into you. “Yer fuckin’ perfect.”

It’s overwhelming. Kyle’s hands roam over your body as you bounce on his cock, draping himself over your back and nipping at your ear. Johnny’s tongue continues to explore every part of your mouth as he thrusts desperately into your hands. His fingers slip down to your clit, moving in leisurely circles that have you bucking forward into him.

“Gonna cum f’me, pretty girl?” Kyle groans into your ear. “Chokin’ my fuckin’, cock.”

You whine against Johnny’s lips, eyes screwed shut. He’s close again, pace quickening. His fingers roughly grind against your over sensitive clit. Someone is chanting, begging, and it takes longer than it should to realize it’s you. “Please, please, just - fuck - I can’t - fucking Christ-“

“Thassit, thassit, fuckin’ hell look at y’two.” Kyle pants, bottoming out with every thrust.

You cum with a choked cry, falling forward against Johnny as he coats your hands and moans. Kyle isn’t far behind, painting your back with a pretty, low groan and a jumble of praises for you and Johnny alike.

Your body feels like jelly, limbs trembling and weight leaned entirely against Johnny. He coos at you and soothes down your hair. A strong arm wraps around your shoulders to steady you. Kyle comes back with a warm rag - when he left, you’re not sure - gently wiping you down with a an unfamiliar level of care.

“I can do it.” You reach for the cloth.

“No, no, love.” He says gently, taking your hands and carefully cleaning them off with precision. He stops to rub the back of your hand with his thumb, something unreadable and warm behind his eyes.

“Drink this.” Johnny holds out a glass to you. When did he even get that?

“Tap water?” You frown slightly, looking him up and down.

“What’s wrong with tap?” He snorts. Oh. Right. Upper city.

“Thanks.” You murmur, chugging it greedily. The physical exhaustion begins to creep up your bones, your legs already practically useless. Keeping up with vampires is a young man’s game and you’re just starting to see the signs of aging out. “I better g-“

“Better lay down.” Kyle cuts you off, taking the glass and pushing your shoulders to lay flat on the bed.

You chew your lip. You don’t usually stay at client’s homes overnight. Then again… the sheets seem to envelope you in a cool cocoon. Calming on your too-hot skin and tired muscles. Muscles that do not want to walk all the way to the train depot. Besides, Johnny and Kyle have been so nice. If they want you to spend then night then what’s the harm, right? You’ll just sneak out in the morning.

So, you let them crawl into the bed bracketing you on either side. Johnny’s arm slings over your waist, cool breath puffing against the back of your neck. Kyle lays in front of you, placing small kisses across your face before pulling the comforter over the three of you.

There are worse fates than sleeping with two handsome men on high thread count sheets for a night…

You wake shivering violently. Between the cold air and Johnny and Kyle’s cool skin you feel like an icicle. Your throat burns and you croak out a groan as you try to sit up. Kyle was rougher than you’d realized in the moment. Johnny has your back pinned against his chest with a strong arm thrown around your waist, not even breathing. It’s so easy to forget that they don’t have to. Kyle truly looks like a statue like this. Entirely still, solid as marble and just as perfect.

You sigh, quietly and carefully wiggling your way off the bed. You don’t pay attention to whose clothes you grab - some tshirt that’s more fitted than you’d like but covers enough to get the job done. You hiss at the slight creak of the door. Neither Johnny nor Kyle stir. If they woke up, they don’t react to you padding out to the main house.

That first door across the hall is slightly ajar, a low stream of cool toned light pooling in the floor just below it. Against your better judgement, you stop, looking around before peeking inside. Not that you can make out much other than a large bed with a dark canopy pulled closed around it. The rest of the room looks barren - the only source of light coming from what you assume to be an attached bathroom.

“Lookin’ f’somethin’?” A baritone voice grunts behind you. You squeak quietly, whirling on your heel and coming face to face with Simon. Well, face to chest considering his sheer height.

“Sorry!” You croak, voice still hoarse. “I didn’t mean- I-“

“S’fine.” The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement. You hope it’s amusement, at least. “Need somethin’?”

“J-just getting some water.. sorry to bother you-“ You begin backing away, giving him a wide birth as you step toward the kitchen. Even without inhuman strength you fully believe this man could snap you in two.

“Come on, then.” He nods toward the kitchen, stepping in front of you. You nearly protest, but opt to just follow. He already caught you snooping at best - at worst he thinks you were planning to steal. If letting him accompany you keeps you alive and out of trouble with them then you’ll gladly trail behind this behemoth of a man.

You pause by the kitchen island as Simon goes to grab… a mug? You watch him fill an electric kettle and flick it on, digging through the cabinet to produce a small packet. A tea bag labeled Honey Vanilla Chamomile.

“Y-you don’t have to-“

“How’d our boys treat you?” Simon asks as he opens the little packet with deft fingers - oddly precise for the size of them.

“Good.” You blurt, hands wringing as you shift your weight side to side.

“Johnny behave himself?”

“The picture of civility.” You snort. If leaving bruises on your hips from fucking you six ways to Sunday counts as civil.

Simon chuckles but doesn’t say anything else. Just puts together a little mug of tea for you, stirring and steeping perfectly before pushing the thing across the counter. You take it slowly, eyeing him. Waiting for some sort of tell that you shouldn’t drink this. Then another shiver runs down your spine and you grab the warm cup happily.

“Should get a heating system put in…” Simon grumbles under his breath, looking around the apartment. You wonder just how much more he can see than you in the near pitch black environment.

“Why?” You snort. “You don’t need it.”

“You do.”

You blink at him rather stupidly - brain too tired and muddled to make sense of whatever that might mean. Probably just means humans in general. They probably have plenty of women and men over on a regular basis. Even if it is just for the night. Oddly considerate, either way.

“What’s the deal with the mask?” You blurt again, the slight lapse of silence putting you on edge.

Simon just shakes his head. “To ‘ide my face.”

“Booooring!” You boo, throwing out a dramatic thumbs down. To your surprise, you’re not met with annoyance. Just a deep chuckle and another shake of his head. “Thanks for the tea.”

Simon nods and snags the now empty mug from you. You chugged it far faster than you realized. It worked, too. Your voice isn’t as hoarse and your throat doesn’t sting when you swallow.

“I should probably…” You murmur, looking back toward the room where Johnny and Kyle are assumably still sleeping away.

Simon grunts in agreement, following you back to his own door. You don’t know what possesses you to stop beside him. To turn and meet his gaze with far less confidence than you’re used to wielding. You owe him for the tea, though.

“Do you want…uh…” You murmur, glancing into the room behind him.

Simon looks from you to the bed behind him - only to turn back with those smile lines forming in the corners of his eyes once again. “Not tonight, pretty girl. You’ve ‘ad enough.”

You jump involuntarily when his large hand cups your cheek - thumb caressing ever to gently over your cheekbone. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the fact that non-sexual touches are so rare in your life, but either way you find yourself tilting into it. Just a little.

“Sleep well, sweet’eart.” With that he steps into his room, shutting the door with near deathly silence behind him.

Oh.

Okay.

You stare at his closed door for a few seconds too long, a slight furrow in your brow before turning back to Johnny’s room. The two of them haven’t moved much since you left, though Johnny has somehow ended up spread eagle across most of the bed. With some gentle maneuvering you manage to curl up in the crook of his outstretched arm with your head on his chest and back pressed against Kyle’s.

These men are going to be the death of you.

A/N: I wanted to put more into this chapter but I had to draw the line somewhere so it’s going to just have to get pushed to the next one.

Part of me was worried they’re fucking too early but then I remembered I can do what I want🫡

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ryuzakemo128 · 6 months ago

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MDNI

Imagine guard dog ghost, but he refuses to touch you. He refuses to show you affection because he takes his job so seriously. There isn't a day when he isn't taking it seriously.

Soap can't coax him into fucking you too because, “Can't screw the asset, Johnny. Bad idea.”

You're the asset he refers to. ALL THE TIME. No matter what happens.

“The asset is secure. Update in twenty.”

And soap? He never catches Ghost with you in intimate ways.

He's too damn good at protecting you from everyone and himself included.

Simon kisses you on the forehead at most. But he doesn't do anything more.

“What am I supposed to do to get him to fuck me?” you whine to Soap. Who is just as baffled as you are at this point.

What the fuck are they going to do now?

Simon's reasoning is that you're soap's girl, and he wasn't going to touch you like Soap does.

#Ghoap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #cod x female reader #cod x fem reader #cod x you #cod x y/n #cod smut #cod x reader smut #cod x female reader smut #cod x fem reader smut #cod x f!reader smut #Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x reader #Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x female reader #Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader #Simon 'Ghost' Riley x female reader #muggy's ideas #Muggy's Ideas

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moon-my-beloved · 1 month ago

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office hours 💼 (poly!141 x fem!reader)

Working at a corporate job wasn’t as bad people deemed it to be. The pay was good enough to keep all your bills up to date and you really couldn’t complain other than how boring it was to sit down for eight hours checking over millions of emails everyday. Your tedious cycle is soon interrupted when your general manager urges you that you’re needed at the boss’s office, immediately.

You never liked Monday’s .

Not only were they a struggle to wake up to, but they were a constant reminder that a long week was ahead of you.

It was a bit weird to think about it now. To see yourself working in the business industry, let alone in a setting where you’ve heard and seen people overwork themselves to death. Perhaps it was the bad representation corporate jobs had but you like to think that you were one of the few lucky ones to land in a good working environment thanks to your good friend, Stella.

She was a good friend from the inside and out, and although you are very grateful for her practically saving you from getting evicted from your apartment a year ago, you valued your sleep. Wanting nothing to do but sink into the comfort of your freshly washed sheets.

However, your short-lived bliss was soon interrupted by your second alarm. A loud groan slipping past your lips as you slam your hand against the screen of your phone in hopes of it shutting off. It was 7 AM, meaning that you had about an hour and a half to get ready.

“Fuck me.” You groggily say, rubbing the sleep off your eyes as you hastily pull the blankets off of you, dragging yourself to the bathroom.

Brushing your teeth and washing your face took longer than you expected with the speed you were going at. Your outfit was next which didn’t take much time to pick with the few simple (boring) choices you had in your closet. You looked down at your watch only to curse at yourself at the time.

Hurriedly, you make your hair look presentable, sliding your feet into your heels as you grab your necessities on your way downstairs. Laptop, charger, headphones along with some important paperwork all getting stuffed into your bag with little care.

With your keys in hand, you were ready to start another week typing away.

You typically expect a folder already in your desk every time you walk through the doors of the 1-4-1 Corporation building. A bunch of paperwork needed to be checked over and reported for any mistakes along with looking over data was typically your day-to-day tasks. However, what you did not expect is to see a small paper bag filled not only filled with your favorite pastry, but also a steaming cup of hot chocolate next to it.

A smile stretches over your lips as you catch a glimpse of Stella’s own sly grin across from the panel separating you two. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” You tease, earning an eye roll from her as she shakes her head. “All the time.”

“Seriously, how are you not married yet? Anyone would be lucky to have a gem like you.” Mumbling the last bit to yourself as you get settled in, not wasting any time to take a bite of the sweet strawberry cruffin in front of you.

Stella just brushes her blonde hair to the side, going back to typing with a smirk. “Precious jewels like me need to be wary of the hungry hands of people.”

“A thank you would have sufficed, woman.” Immediately taking back your compliment back with a groan at her words in which Stella responds by simply throwing her head back in laughter at your embarrassed state.

“You’re no fun in the mornings, babes. So grumpy.” Your friend simply says, swiping some whip cream off your tasty muffin and bringing it up to her lips as you send a glare her way before taking a sip of your hot chocolate.

You get into the flow of things after finishing your breakfast. Going through last week’s reports and checking off papers so they can be sent off as well as checking off dates for any pending events or projects that need to be done before the end of the month. You send a couple emails to the other employees, reminding them of an upcoming meeting with your GM, David.

Speak of the devil, you see him approaching your desk. A rush in his step that has alarms bells raising in your head as his eyes scan the room before they’re landing on you. Uh oh. That can’t be good.

“Hey, can you come with me for a second?” He says rather swiftly, a stiff smile forming on his lips as he taps his finger against your desk.

“Uh.. yeah! Sure.” You respond back, flattening your hands across your skirt as you stand up. You send a quick anxious glance at your friend in which Stella replicates with a worried look of her own as she shrugs her shoulders, a direct way to show her own perplexity to the situation.

Following behind the steps of David, you take the opportunity to go over the things you could have possibly done wrong. Had you missed a report? Done a mistake on the data? Misspelled something? Or miss a date? No. That can’t be. Even with all the things racing through your mind— you can’t figure out why your general manager would want to meet you privately.

You don’t even notice when you two are in the elevator, going up the levels of the building until a small ‘bing’ and the click of the doors sliding open break you out of your frantic haze. Gulping down your nerves, you follow David out of the elevator, heels clicking against polished concrete floors as the man in fronts of you guides you through a hallway you don’t recognize.

Breaking the silence, you stop. David turning back to face you with an illegible expression as he stops in front of a door. “What’s going on? Am I getting fired?” You say, trying your best to hide the shaking in your voice as you stare at him.

“What-? No, no!” David shakes his head, letting out a sigh of his own as he tries to find the words to explain the oddity of him suddenly pulling you out of your seat. “I got a call from Laswell that you were needed at the boss’s office immediately. She didn’t give me an explanation.”

Laswell. Chief operating officer of the company which you only got to see her once when you barely started working for this company. That definitely did not put your nerves to ease, shifting your gaze to door in front of you as your eyes catch a nameplate. Johnathan Price, Chief executive officer.

What the hell.

“Look kid, I’m sure it’s nothing bad.” David says, grabbing your shoulders in an attempt to ground you despite his tone revealing his own doubt. You can only nod as you shift your eyes back to him, offering him a tight smile.

He doesn’t linger for long, telling you something along the lines to not say anything he wouldn’t say as if that helps the bile building in your throat with how nervous you are. You’re left alone after that, eyes boring into into the door before you’re taking a deep breath in, lifting your hand up to knock.

“Come in.” A gruff voice says from the other side of the door.

Lifting a shaky hand, you grip the handle and twist it open as you step into his office. Making sure to gently close the door behind you as you stand a few feet away from the man who can possibly ruin your life by firing you.

Your breath gets caught in your throat as you meet his gaze. Cold and steady eyes meet yours, your back straightening without thinking.

His presence screams authority. Perfect ironed suit complementing his domineering look as he leans against his chair. His gaze never wavers, not even when he tilts head to point at the chair in front of him, silently telling you to sit down without uttering a word.

Your brain short circuits for a split second before your feet are swiftly making their way towards the chair. Hands pressed against the material of your skirt as you rest them in front of you, crossing your legs in hopes of coming off as calm and collected despite the sweat building up between your shoulder blades.

He’s analyzing you. Like a predator watching its prey with a sharp gaze, ready to pounce at any moment. You can’t help but squirm. He finally breaks the silence by letting out a soft sigh of his own, arms stretching to rest on top of his desk.

“I can tell you’re nervous and that’s partially my fault for bringing you here in such short notice.” He explains, offering you a sympathetic smile that has you instantly deflating and letting out a small chuckle of your own as you shake your head.

“It’s really no problem, sir,” you say, intertwining your fingers together to keep them from shaking as you offer a small smile, “just caught me off guard that’s all.”

He hums, eyes flickering down to your hands before they’re finding yours again. “Just John, sweetheart. You’ll be working with us soon enough so there’s no need for formalities.” He simply states, grabbing a folder from underneath his desk as he slides it towards you.

Us? What was that supposed to mean?

You break eye contact to look at the manilla folder in front of you. Mouth opening and closing like a fish with how hard it is to form words as you try to process his. “I-I’m sorry, sir— I mean John,” you stutter out, grabbing the folder in your hands and opening it to flick through the pages. “I don’t think I quite understand what you mean..” you drag the last part, your eyes catching onto something that has you stopping mid sentence.

“Request to transfer for the following recipient.”

It takes you a moment to read through all the pages, John’s own watchful gaze still on you as he lets you take in the details of his unexpected proposition. Taking a deep breath, you close the folder and set it back down once you’re finished. The man in front of you seems to be unaffected by the situation, a neutral expression on his face as he stares at you.

“We’ve went through all your records and heard all great things about you.” He assures you, your ears warming up at his praise while mumbling a small thank you. “It was really a last minute decision and I apologize for that. Our previous assistant has recently moved to another department and we took it as an opportunity to find a new set of extra hands.”

You nod to show your understanding, your eyes finding it hard to stay put on his face as he talks with that voice of his. Eyes lingering down to his beard, tie, the expand of his chest and the cuff of his sleeves. You flinch once he taps his finger against the hard table, eyes flicking back to him.

“Sorry.!” You squeak out, an amused eyebrow raised on his face as he stares at you. “Thought I lost you there for a moment. I know it must be a lot to take in right now but please, think about it.”

Everything after that is a blur, John leads you out of his office with his palm hovering over the span of your back as he wishes to hear back from you soon, leaving you with a sticky note between your fingers with his contact information in it, holding it tightly even when you get back to your station.

“What happened? Are you in trouble? Oh, please don’t tell me you got laid of—” Stella rushes, a worried look on her face once you return, her hands squeezing at your shoulders as you stop her rambling.

“Stella— no, I didn’t get laid off,” you say as relief washes over your friend, “I um, got a promotion?”

Stella’s eyes widen at that, a big smile stretching over her lips as she brings you into a tight hug. A small oof passing through your lips at the tight embrace, Stella congratulating you before she’s pulling away from you with furrowed eyebrows. “Don’t tell me you didn’t accept it.”

A pin could drop and you would hear it with how quiet it goes between the two of you as you stare at her with a guilty look. “Did you fall on your way here or something? What the hell, babes!” Your friend declares with bewilderment, flicking your forehead in which you respond with a small yelp as you rub the tender skin.

“Hey! He told me to think about it,” you defend yourself, letting out a soft sigh of your own as you sit back on your chair, the palm of your hand resting against your cheek, “I think he could tell I was close to disintegrating with how nervous I looked.”

Stella lets out a small snort at that, her own arms crossing against her chest as she stares at you, a look in her eyes that just screams spill. “He offered me to be his secretary,” you explain, avoiding eye contact as you start to type the last of your email you were working on before you were unexpectedly interrupted, “said that his recent one left to another department, permanently from the looks of it.”

Stella lets out a hum of her own, her chair squeaking as she moves closer to your desk. “So, what now? Going to leave little old me to fend for myself while you have all the fun?” She says, wiggling her eyebrows at you that might as well imply that you’re about to slide into your superiors pants.

You scoff at that, giving her a deadpan look of your own as you knock your heel against her leg, a small giggle of hers hitting your ears as she returns to her space. “Fine, fine! I’ll stop, but you should give him an answer before it’s too late.” She suggests, standing up as she mentions something about needing more copies before she’s running off.

The day painfully passes at a slow pace, eyes becoming dry and stinging from exhaustion the more you stare at the monitor in front of you. Stella had left long before you and her being so considerate, wanted to wait for you. You rushed her out before she could protest, telling her to get rest and that you needed to finish off some last reports.

Which was a lie, you had finished all your tasks long before your shift was over. There were a few people still lingering around but for the most part, it was practically empty which gave you the time to ponder and fiddle with the sticky note in your hand.

You don’t know why it’s taking you so long to give John a proper response. Nerves heightening every time you think of the man and the way he looked at you. It’s almost embarrassing to think about your superior in such ways, shaking your head to clear any bad thoughts once Stella words repeat themselves in your ear. It was a great offer, beyond great in fact which is why there’s an annoying itch in your brain that finds the whole situation strange.

You sit around for another good minute, checking the clock only to see that you’re thirty minutes past your official departure time.

Taking a deep breath, you scoot your chair, typing out the information from the small piece of paper into your computer as you click on a small icon.

You really hope you won’t regret this decision later on.

a/n: hi guys!! this is a bit rough around the edges since I have no idea how corporate jobs work but please lmk if I need to fix anything! I hope ya’ll enjoy it !

#cod fic #call of duty #poly 141 x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #john price #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #fem reader #ghoap x reader #ghoap #pricegaz #task force x reader #fluff #office au

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reaping-the-benefits · 8 months ago

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Hybrid Soap x Hybrid Reader x Owner Ghost (MDNI)

Where you and Soap are Ghost's puppies, and he takes such good care of you both. You're new to the household, and you're so sweet, some kind of lap dog hybrid.

Soap, on the other hand, is a guardian dog. He's protective when he needs to be, but most of the time, he's just a big goofball who likes to follow you around. Also likes to shove his face into your crotch when Ghost isn't home, eating you out like a man starved.

He's rough with you, desperate to have you. You can't blame the poor man. Ghost never shares you once he gets home, having you cuddled up in his lap, bouncing on his cock, with no room for poor Soap to join.

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #dog hybrid!Soap #dog hybrid!reader #fem!reader #ghoap #ghoap x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #ghost x soap #ghost x soap x reader

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thehandsresisthim · 9 months ago

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“a test of endurance - part one”

contains: smut, gn!dom!reader x sub!johnny x sub!ghost, orgasm delay/denial, anal (plug in johnny), hand job, simon remembers fucking johnny

this work is part of a small “kinktober” thing - i sadly don’t have the time to write a lot, so instead of posting something for each day in october, i decided to try to post something on each sunday in october and something on halloween!! here’s the second part

word count: ~1200

The first time you really tease both men is on a rainy Sunday evening. Both are sprawled across your sofa, wearing loose clothing, a picture of pure comfort - Simon is resting in Johnny's lap, skull mask still on.

You enter the room, smiling. “Are my boys ready to be taught a lesson?” you ask, voice saccharine.

Johnny just hums, whilst Simon - ever the obedient one - immediately sits up straight, eager at the thought of being touched, to get the special attention that only you can dish out.

“I’m ready, love,” as always, Simon is the first to speak, his brown eyes glistening with adoration, like a dog that’s eager to get pet.

“‘m ready,” Johnny says next. His answer is shorter, less respectful - as usual.

+🎃+

Just twenty minutes later, you had one nude trembling man in your lap, and another wearing just his boxers, sitting before you on the carpet.

Simon, ever the obedient one, is holding onto your shoulders as you coo at him and stroke his cockhead. The featherlight touches are coaxing his sensitive dick to release a steady stream of precum, which you eagerly spread all over his cock. Still, it’s not nearly enough for the poor thing.

At a particularly mean touch - you’ve carefully pressed your pinkie finger against his slit, wiggling around a little, knowing exactly that the sensation reminds him of being sounded - Simon catches himself lifting his hips up in an attempt to meet your touch.

Immediately, he tries his best to counteract the movement, fingers boring into your shoulders as he forces his hips back down. “I’m s-so sorry, master…” he whines, nuzzling against your shoulder.

You kiss his neck. “It’s alright, baby. Can you grab the remote for me?”

Simon hiccups and nods, leaning over and handing the remote to you. You smirk as you take it, and then let go of his dick. He whines, but swallows down any complaints.

Noting his discomfort, you place one hand on his lower back and nip at his neck. “You can touch yourself. But, no cumming.” As soon as the words are out, Simon babbles out a string of ‘thank yous!’ and whines, lazily humping into his fist.

With your other hand, you menacingly hold up the remote, and the man kneeling on the carpet swallows as he sees it. His gorgeous blue eyes are wide open, disbelief and a hint of fear mixing with the anticipation.

With a tilt of your head and a mean smirk, you turn the vibrating plug nestled against his prostate off. Johnny wastes no time when it comes to protesting as his cock bobs, awkwardly spilling his creamy precum over his cock.

“Hah– you– sadistic fockin’ whore–” Johnny starts hurling curses at you, eyes narrowing as he sweats some more, skin glistening in the dim light of the living room.

He struggles to sit straight, catching his breath as a heartwarming, pitiful sob escapes his open mouth, a bit of drool joining the puddle of pre on the floor.

“Aww, were you close, love?” you mock, laughing as you toss the remote on the armchair, thus openly revealing that you've got no intention to activate the plug again. Johnny doesn't know if that's a bad thing or not.

You reach forward again, causing Simon to make a startled noise as the fabric of your shirt accidentally moves against his throbbing cock, marking it with his precum.

Paying Simon's whines no attention, you grab the bottle of lube, holding it in your dominant hand. The man in your lap bites his lip, holding out hope that maybe you'll coat your fingers in the lube and work him open, cruelly teasing his prostate until he struggles to speak.

But you don't. Instead, you click your tongue, thus immediately making Johnny pay attention to you.

“Come ‘ere, boy.” you instruct, and just for a second, Johnny considers getting up, and not crawling towards you on all fours like he's been trained to do. But he swallows his brattiness - God knows he's shown enough of that already - and obediently comes close to your outstretched hand.

“Grab the lube. You're going to take your plug out, pet,” you gently pat Johnny’s head, “and you better not cum during.”

Johnny whines at your command and peels his boxers off, the stained fabric clinging to his skin where he dirtied it with his pre.

He takes the bottle with a shaking hand and immediately goes to work.

Simon starts to tremble in your lap, cock twitching in interest at every strangled gasp that Johnny lets out, every wet squelch as he works the plug out of himself.

Simon doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but the prolonged teasing has made him a little delusional - perhaps you’re ordering Johnny to take the plug out so that there’ll be room for his cock? Maybe, just maybe, you’re going to allow Simon to fuck him?

He tries to banish the memory of the last time you made Simon fuck Johnny - how you had one steady hand between his shoulderblades, instructing Simon on just what he’s allowed to do.

“That’s it, baby, you can go faster, go on, Simon, work him open…” your voice echoes in his head.

‘Fuck fuck fuck,’ he thinks, as he notices himself getting closer to the edge. Still, he can’t help his mind from replaying your words, “You better not cum if you know what’s good for you. I swear, Simon, if you finish, I’ll make sure you can’t properly sit for the next three weeks-“

With a panicked whelp, Simon pinches the base of his cock, staving off his orgasm at the last second. It hurts, to edge himself like that, but disappointing you would be worse.

You, ever observant, have paid close attention to Simon’s struggle, and immediately hug him and kiss his neck. “That’s my boy. Good job!”

He keens at the praise, happy to have made you proud. Still, he’s close to the edge, and has to pinch himself again at Johnny’s slutty moan as the man finally works the plug out.

You clap your hands. “You boys did so good!”

Wait. Johnny blinks up at you. Usually, you only say this sort of thing when you’re done with the scene. But the scene can’t be done yet, can it? Simon and him haven’t cum yet, and-

The sadistic gleam in your eyes confirms both boys’ fear.

Simon whimpers and sighs, head hanging low, his shoulders slumped as he wordlessly accepts your silent instruction.

Johnny wants to fight, to argue, but he knows it’s useless. Besides, he knows that he and Simon asked for this, get off on being denied, and if it truly gets unbearable, there’s always the safeword.

Johnny sets the lube down on the table and blinks again. “Master, may we shower? Cold shower, maybe?”

You nod. “Yes, you may.”

Thank you for reading!! here’s part two ! ❤️

masterlist is here

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sageivyreads · 4 months ago

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feral street kitty hybrid!reader who’s been slinking up the fire escape and sneaking into ghoap’s apartment for food.. but they know. 18+

introduction: omg hiii 😻 so i was totally gonna abandon the first post but i already have like 5 other things in the works bc the brain worms haven’t stopped soo.. don’t expect anything tho bc im not very consistent. if i make another part there will probably be smut. 1.1k words, basically just a long drabble i decided to proofread a bit to post

contains/warnings: reader is homeless and eats fish, established ghoap, no mention of size or appearance expect for ‘underfed’, reader only has ears and a tail. no smut

edit: masterlist here

Maybe they’ve known for a while, Ghost once saw you skitter away down the ladder after being woken from a nightmare. He complains about it to Soap, scolding him for forgetting to lock the window, but he’d been doing it on purpose ever since he saw you in the alley behind their apartment, digging through trash and underfed. Hoping.

He convinces his LT to leave it unlocked and says that they can spare a piece of bread now and then. That you look so lost and sad, that’s the least they can do. You haven’t even stolen anything more than a few bites of left out food, he insists.

But you grow more confident, napping on their couch for a few hours during the night to keep warm, washing your face in their sink, licking their leftover plates clean. They pretend not to notice. Ghost, who used to sit on the couch and watch television when he couldn’t sleep, has switched to the chair in his office so as not to spook you.

Until one day you fish through the laundry bin in the bathroom, looking for a pair of socks that no one would notice missing. You’ve never stolen anything more than a bite or two of food from them but it’s getting colder. People lose socks all the time.

Your head snaps towards the door when you hear it creak open, seeing a pale, shirtless man with mussed hair pause in the doorway when he sees you. He grunts. You scramble, only grabbing a single sock in your process of shoving past him and bolting towards the window.

You don’t notice the way his eyes drift down your body to take in the healthy weight gained. He sighs, shaking his head and not bothering to close the door as he makes towards the toilet.

You don’t come back for a week and a half. Soap got worried on the fifth night, realizing you hadn’t stepped through the window in days. Your dirty fingerprints had been cleaned off the window on the second day and they hadn’t come back since.

But eventually, you get hungry. With how cold it is at night, you’ve been forced to spend less and less time searching through trash lest you freeze. You think about it for a few days, and decide there’s no point in not going back if you’re going freeze to death out here anyway.

You slip through the kitchen window on the eleventh day, shivering at the temperature change. You head straight for the fridge where they keep their leftovers, your shaky hand holding it open as your eyes quickly scan for something small to eat.

“There’s fish in the freezer. F’you want some.”

You nearly jolt out of your skin, the fridge door snapping shut as you suddenly whip around to find the location of the voice. You can feel the fur your tail puff up in fear as your back presses the cool doors. It’s the same man you saw that night. This time, he’s wearing a mask. And not a medical one.

The mask is black and embroidered with white skull markings. Or, more like grey skull markings. There’s dark brown stains on the fabric where the white is. Maybe the black, too. You can’t tell. It kind of looks like dried blood. No, it’s definitely just dirt.

Your ears are pricked, chest silently heaving as you stay frozen, staring at him. How did you not see him? Or hear him?

He looks like he just got home despite the fact it’s the middle of the night. It’s early, maybe three, or four in the morning. He’s still got shoes on where he sits on the couch. He holds a clear glass full of a gold liquid propped on his knee. There’s a duffle bag by his feet.

You just stand there, stuck in time for what feels like a week as you watch him. The only time he moves is to bring the glass up to his lips, pushing his mask up to the bridge of his nose to take a long sip. He would’ve moved by now if he wanted to hurt you. Right?

You swallow thickly, slowly turning to open the freezer. You look over your shoulder every few seconds, but he’s just sitting there, watching. Your eyes land on three saran-wrapped plates in the freezer. Huh. Maybe they had a guest over.

Two plates have various vegetables and sauces, while one looks plain. Just fish and something green that looks like a tiny tree. You grab it, closing the freezer and glancing at him for the millionth time. Still stayed the same. You slowly sink to sit on the kitchen floor, tail curling around the side of your leg protectively.

You watch him as you peel the wrap off, as you eat. He stares back. You pinch a cold piece of meat between your fingers, slowly bringing it up to your lips. And it’s fucking good. You don’t waste much time with your next few bites, try the little tree thing too. It’s not great, but it’s not horrible. You start wrapping the dish up again when you’re interrupted.

“It’s all f’you. Eat it.”

You pause, your eyes flicking back up to him. Your ears twitch. For you? Sounds like a trap. You should have a pretty good radar for danger. I mean, you live on the streets. You can feel your heart beat a little faster, but it tells you to continue. You waste no more time, greedily finishing the rest of the dish almost concerningly fast.

He watches and only adds more whiskey to his cup when it empties. You stand when you’re done, quietly placing the dish in the sink and discarding the wrap in the trash. You flinch when he abruptly stands, stepping closer towards your exit. His hands reach towards the bottom hem of his black hoodie, pulling it over his head.

You stay and watch, for some reason. Then he tosses it towards you, over the kitchen counter separating the two rooms. You startle, twitching back when the fabric falls to your feet. You look between him and the hoodie briefly, before crouching down to grab it.

Your footsteps are light and tentative as you step back towards the window, still watching him. You quickly slip out, practically running down the fire escape stairs until you’re back in the streets. Back in your little box hidden in the trash, with a few blankets to keep warm.

You replace your thin zip-up with his hoodie. You push the fabric of the collar up towards your nose when you slip it on, inhaling deeply. It smells like man. Like sweat and something coppery. Like burning firewood and grill char. Like it would be so easy to just slip into his bed and sleep into the late hours of the morning.

You sleep easier that night, even if it’s on cardboard and tattered blankets. And if you’re already wet when you slip your fingers between your thighs, it’s no one’s business but your own.

notes: i figured out how to do the ‘read more’ thing!! sorry my first post didn’t have that. again, written and edited on my phone. ty for the love btw 🫶 im trying to stay humble bc this is lowkey boosting my ego. tumblr tips appreciated.

tags??: @other-fandoms-reblogs hi 🙈 this is not related to my first post but i thought i would tag u anyway! if i ever post the other part in the works to my first post ill also tag u in that.

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stellewriites · 10 months ago

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Hii! Can you do ghoap x reader fluff? Like cuddles with mild flirting (from soap, obviously) and like soap is the little spoon, because in return he gets head scratches in return, reader in the middle, and Simon as the big spoon just pressing his face into the crook of readers neck?

Would rlly apreciate it <3

-🌑

i loved this idea when i read it and then proceeded to take far too long to actually answer it lmao BUT!! here it is,, ghoap x fem!reader fluff - ty for the request 💓

you picked up the cheap jar of pasta sauce and compared it to the branded version stacked next to it. as far as you could tell, the ingredients were the same and the little veg chunks included weren’t any smaller.

you nodded to yourself. it was decided, you weren’t paying two quid extra just for a name, fuck dolmio.

you looked higher to the top shelf and frowned when you saw the pasta had been pushed away from the edge and you’d be unable to reach it on your own.

“need a hand, dove?”

you turned to see a handsome man with a mohawk beelining towards you, his eyes tracing your frame with hot familiarity. without waiting for your response, he bullied his way into your space to reach over you for the pasta. barely stepping back, he handed you the pack and looked you up and down.

“thanks, stranger,” you said, holding back a laugh at his amused smile. you saw the moment he decided to play along.

“pretty skirt,” he said and nodded down to your bare legs peeking out beneath the denim.

“hm, my boyfriend got me it,” you said, a little teasingly.

“oh? and this boyfriend, he’s left ye all alone to do the shoppin’ has he?”

“no, he’ll be back soon. and he’s kinda protective, won’t be happy seeing me talking to other guys,” you said trying not to smile.

“ah’m no’ scared,” he scoffed, his own smile breaking out as he looked around the aisle eagerly for the aforementioned boyfriend.

“i don’t know, he’s pretty big and strong, wears a scary mask,” you said.

“aye? reminds me o’ my boyfriend,” he said and you finally giggled, leaning in to kiss him and giving up playing pretend.

“dove, they got their tiger bread in stock again,” simon said as he rounded the corner of the aisle and interrupting your kiss. “i ha’n’t ‘ad this in ages.” simon barely paused at the unexpected appearance of johnny, his eyes turning up in the corners as he smiled under his mask. “johnny, look, tiger bread.”

“yeah, i seen, si,” johnny said fondly, crowding you back against the trolley. “only getting the one loaf?”

simon paused. “hm. you’re right.”

you snorted as he dropped the bread into the trolley before heading back to the bakery section and leaving the pair of you alone again.

“work was a fookin’ drag, dove, cannae stand all this paperwork they’re keepin’ me busy with,” johnny groaned into your temple. you petted his arm consolingly before turning back to your list and shopping trolley.

“you were injured less than a month back, john, you can’t have been expecting to be back in the field so soon?” you hummed as you continued shopping with johnny leant over your back.

his silence spoke volumes.

you shook your head as you made your way through the store and waved simon over as you passed him by, hoping he hadn’t harassed the bakery staff into making more tiger loaves last minute for him. the absolute fiend.

“wha’s wrong with him?” simon asked as he got back, hands full as he nodded to johnny’s slumped frame. you refrained from asking simon if you really needed three tiger breads and instead nudged your other boyfriend up from your shoulder.

“he’s bored,” you said easily, grinning when johnny pulled back properly to send you a betrayed look.

“fuck’s sake. c’mere,” simon huffed before dipping down to kiss him, chuffing a laugh as johnny sputtered at the woollen texture of the mask in between them. “you’ll be back in no time. just behave or it’ll be longer.”

“ye sound like cap,” johnny grimaced. he wiped a hand down his tired face. “when are we goin’ home, hm? fuckin’ knackered, could do with a nap before dinner.”

“y’drive ‘ere?” ghost asked while you grabbed a box of eggs, checking for any cracked inside.

“aye.”

“then you can leave whenever,” ghost said flatly, though the glint of his eyes in the overhead lights betrayed his amusement at johnny’s plight.

johnny pouted.

“yer cruel, si. tell him, dove, he’s heartless,” johnny bemoaned dramatically.

“you’re cruel and heartless, simon, would you prefer strawberry jam or raspberry for a change?”

“could be a treat,” ghost conceded.

johnny groaned at the both of you, pinching your hip when you laughed.

“you both know i cannae sleep without someone’s arms around me,” he huffed, turning his big puppy eyes on you both.

you caved immediately.

“aw poor baby,” you cooed, biting your lip when you saw simon roll his eyes. “let’s get this done quick then, yeah? go grab the burgers we like from the frozen section and that ice cream we got a couple weeks back.”

“yes, ma’am.” johnny jogged off.

“si, can i trust you not to make your way back to the bakery if i give you a list of items to grab?”

“no,” he admitted without shame. “i saw the lad in the back prepping more for tomorrow, think i could convince ‘im to cook ‘em now for me if given the time.”

“right. hand holding it is as we find the toiletries then. ‘s like herding cats with you two.”

simon hummed, his eyes trained on the section you knew the bakery to be hidden in.

—

once home, johnny packed away the majority of your shopping in record time, snatching the jam from simon’s hands and almost throwing it onto the work top before plying his mask up one handed and dragging him down into a rough kiss with the other. you watched, amused, with raised eyebrows as johnny dragged him back towards the bedroom desperately, waving a hand at you and gasping out a needy, “dove, c’mon, stop fucking around,” in between wet kisses.

you didn’t need to be told twice before attaching your hands onto simon’s thick waist from behind, guiding them from bumping into any furniture or walls as they stumbled blind to the bedroom.

johnny pulled back with a dopey smile and pushed simon none too gently onto the bed. you took advantage of his lowered height and pulled off his mask completely, rubbing a gentle hand over his buzz cut hair and down to his jaw. you leant in for a soft peck before feeling johnny’s hands and arms wrap around your soft stomach.

he clung to you, nuzzling at your cheek over your shoulder until you turned in his arms to share your attention.

you heard the bed creak as simon settled further up the bed as johnny kissed you. you shuffled back, parting from johnny just long enough to get your bearings and climb onto the bed, simon’s hands moving to guide you back as johnny hummed against your lips.

you flopped back into simon’s arms, got comfortable as he wrapped you up and held you tight against him.

johnny sighed in relief at the sight and shuffled down so he could rest his head on your chest.

you gathered him close and laughed when he started whining when your hands stayed on his shoulders.

“so needy johnny, have you ever heard the phrase ‘patience is a virtue’?” you teased as you started to run your nails through his hair, lightly scratching until he sighed and dropped his body weight against you and simon.

“too t’red,” he mumbled.

simon lifted his warm hand from your hip and draped it heavily over the back of johnny’s neck, keeping him close. soon enough, the scot was snoring.

you tried not to laugh, your chest bouncing johnny with your muffled chuckles. “i think that might be a record.”

“tired lamb,” simon said condescendingly, but he rubbed his thumb lovingly over the soft skin behind johnny’s ear.

“don’t be mean.” you grinned back at him.

simon hummed and rested his head into the crook of your neck, tucking you in closer with the arm still wrapped underneath your waist. “not bein’ mean.”

he nipped at your neck, a soft nibble that had you gasping and clenching your thick thighs around the one johnny had slipped inbetween.

“prick,” you huffed without malice when he stopped and let out a long tired breath in your ear. he hummed with closed eyes, clearly not listening.

you chuffed a laugh into johnny’s hair. the low thrum of arousal simon had brought on was easy enough to ignore but you’d have rather he’d finished what he started. instead, you tucked your cold toes between his large calves behind you in penance and tugged johnny even closer, enough to smother him. with your arse perched perfectly in simon’s lap and johnny nestled close to his second favourite place on your body, you were sure they’d give you what you were after once their nap is over. you closed your eyes with a smile; you could wait for them to get their energy up, and you loved your puppy piles just as much as they did.

#idk if you wanted fem or gn reader but i went fem in the end bc it was easier to write :p #sorry if you wanted gn!! feel free to put in another request for it and ill get started lmao #i hope you like it!!#i know this is a little bit of a toe dip into smut and not just 100% soft pg fluff but i couldn’t help it #stellewrites asks #sorry but i had tiger bread for the first time in 2 years the other day and it changed my life #forgot how much i love that stuff #AND cheesy jalepeno bread OOO i need to get that again too #so basically put that into ghost here lmao ahdkajdjajsj #ghoap x reader #ghoap #ghost x reader #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader x johnny mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #i’ve got a petty hatred for branded stuff vs aldi’s own like the price difference is crazy but they’re exactly the same!!!#so that also jumped out at the start of this lmao #stelle writes n that

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