#lightly implied ghoap

[m-1-8]

DADDY’S LITTLE FAILURE

“Welcome home, Simon” “Seems we have a new addition to the family” ”Saved ye a seat, Lt.”

[syoddeye]

Idk if you take requests, but I am ✨obsessed✨ with davey jones Ghost and was wondering if you have more thoughts about him? Esp if you have Ghoap or Ghoap/Reader thoughts 🙏👀

well, i didn’t have any thoughts until now! i mean. yeah. imagine the ten year curse cycle inflicted on both of them. lightly edited.

cw: blood/violence, non-consensual touch, implied but not depicted eventual noncon

they don't think much about the drawbacks of immortality or their land-based limitations. they don't consider the madness that gnaws at the edges of their minds or the insatiable hunger that regular slaughter can't satisfy. how the blood sours in their mouths after years of excess.

not soap, with his appetite for violent spectacle, or ghost, who savors it like a gourmand. no. they careen through decades, gleefully unmoored from consequence.

then they see you.

the ship is anchored in the bay of your coastal town, rocking gently in the waves despite the atmosphere. lanterns swing in the breeze, casting light across the deck as the sun sets. the crew drinks and gambles away the hours until the decade burns out when their leaders can, at last, join them on land, chomping at the bit for their share of blood and gold.

a few shots ring out as they pick off the fools attempting to escape by boat. on shore, a harried militia fumbles to barricade the town, a pitiful display that amuses soap to no end.

he paces, barking laughter, the row of spines down the center of his skull rippling with the sound. ghost leans against the mast, idly loading his pistol. he doesn't join in on the festivities, though soap knows he's just as eager for the bloodletting to begin. it's what sustains them best, after all—carnage.

"you'd think they'd learn," soap clicks his tongue, watching through a spyglass as another group tries to skirt past their ship in a dinghy, wailing as they slump one by one. his cloudy eye rolls loose in its socket as he pans toward shore, looking for the tortured faces of their loved ones and—

he freezes.

"steamin' jesus."

"what?" ghost doesn't bother looking up.

soap lowers the glass just enough to flash him a grin, a different sort of hunger glinting in his eyes. "you've got to see this." he tosses the scope.

ghost catches it with a bored grunt. he expects the same old scene: villagers sobbing, soldiers struggling, someone drowning themselves in the shallows. instead, he finds you.

stockings and shoes stripped off, skirts gathered high to keep them dry, showing your bare legs braced in the surf. you stand alone, a fair distance from the panicked men crowding at the docks. one hand flat over your eyes, shading them, as you strain to get a better look at your town's doom. pretty mouth curved into a worried frown.

"what do ye think she's doin'?"

"don't know." ghost adjusts the focus, trailing the glass down to your bare, breakable ankles, the way the water curls around them, before dragging his gaze back up. "doesn't matter."

maybe you're overly confident in your soldiers. maybe there's nowhere to go inland, no path that doesn't end with their blades at your back or another tide. or maybe it's much simpler than that—maybe you have a morbid curiosity, something only they can sate.

you look soft. smooth. utterly defenseless, a lamb right before its throat is slit. fearless or stupid. ghost hasn't decided yet.

behind him, soap mutters a low curse, leaning over his shoulder like a child begging for another turn. "she's perfect." he murmurs, his tongue flicking over his sharpened, brine and rust-colored teeth. 

ghost lowers the spyglass, gripping it tight.

"think she'll run if we call out?" soap asks, already moving toward the longboats. "might be fun to chase her down."

"no."

soap stops mid-stride, turning with a hollow-eyed grin. "what d'ye mean, no?"

ghost doesn't answer immediately. his gaze drifts back to the shore, to you, alone in the surf, transfixed by the evil before you. oblivious to what you've done. to what they are. the sort of personal attention you've invited. 

he knows in the marrow of his bones. the way hunger knows the taste of meat.

"no," he repeats, jaw clenching, reaching down to adjust himself. "you're gettin' ahead of yourself. we've got 'ours, still."

soap huffs, bleeding anticipation and impatience. "what if she runs for it? we cannae—"

ghost cuts him off, taking a single step to hook his good hand around the back of soap's neck. he drags the other man in close, pushing the cold metal of the spyglass's eyepiece into the soft spot under soap's chin.

"if she runs, then we catch 'er. bring 'er aboard. simple as that."

soap stares for a moment, the muscles in his jaw working like he wants to argue. wisely, he does not. "fine." he concedes, though he looks to the longboats again. "we wait."

"good lad. now," ghost squeezes soap's neck, fingers pressing flesh and carapace, and then he pushes, guiding the man to his knees. then he lifts the spyglass again, fitting it snugly against his socket. you're out of the water now, seated, hurriedly rolling your stockings up. he wets his cracked lips at the brief flash of the underside of a thigh. you really think no one's watching. "we've plenty of time to warm up."

they leave the pillaging and razing to their men, the chaos in the town spreading behind them like fire on dry grass. smoke rises in thick, black columns, and the screams of the dying and the terrorized carry across the streets. they don't care for riches or ruin, not tonight. they're hunting for you.

every house and hovel is torn apart by their hands, windows shattered, doors broken off their hinges. soap, wild-eyed and feral, tears through the streets like a storm, leaving splinters and wreckage in his wake. ghost grows just as frenzied as him as the hours march toward dawn. 

but, as it turns out, you truly did believe in the uniformed men of your town. your first mistake. your second was that you did not run far enough.

they find you.

tucked into a cramped hiding space of what must be your home, they pry you out like a pearl from an oyster. it's soap who finds you, his grin splitting wide as he hauls you up, your face tear-streaked, a laugh rattling out when you lift your chin.

"better up close," soap says, pressing his nose to your temple and inhaling deeply. he spins you to face ghost, his damp cheek pressing to yours. sea salt mingling with the scent of sweat. desperation. "smells good enough to eat."

ghost draws a line from the curve of your cheek down to the hollow of your neck, fitting his thumb to the divot of your throat. how odd it is to feel a heartbeat he does not want to immediately stop.

"then let's have a taste 'ere," he murmurs, voice rough as your pulse kicks up. "then a feast on board."

[tempfrangit]

Disclaimer — this is a 🎶Disclaimer🎶 — you are responsible for what you read and how you choose to interact with media. I try to tag everything accordingly and have everything laid out as best I can because it is never my intention do to anyone harm. Remember to both block tags and use filters so the tags I put on things to stop you from seeing are actually caught. If something specific needs to be tagged, let me know and I will do so.

🟢- General Audiences 🟡- Mature 🔴- Smut/18+ ⚫- Dark Fic/Dead Dove, Do Not Eat

CoD -

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Reader: - parallelisms between fwb!gaz & fwb!soap 🔴

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x Reader: - parallelisms between fwb!gaz & fwb!soap 🟡

- doe-eyed, 1.4k, You're going to let some alpha fuck you because you're broke and just happened to get the call. Thank you for your service. 🔴 (abo fic, dubcon, breeding kink)

- johnny becoming obsessed with reader 🔴⚫(gn!reader, obsessive/possessive behavior, stalking)

- wonder when you'll miss me, multi-chapter cheater!Soap fic 🟡(cheating, unplanned pregnancy, hurt)

- dating soap, who wants you to cuck him for his birthday 🔴 (gn!reader, cuckold soap, size kink, ghoap)

+ forgiveness starts with you, ~300 words, sacrilegious sex with soap 🔴(f!reader, tribbing in a church)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader: + giving thanks, 503 words, An American your whole life until work brought you to England, Thanksgiving was your favorite holiday. Your boyfriend cements that for you. 🟡 (very light smut, suddenly poly) + dating soap, who wants you to cuck him for his birthday 🔴 (gn!reader, cuckold soap, size kink, ghoap)

+ good girl — ghost x reader, 1.3k, hybrid au inspired by @/dante-mightdie’s post 🔴 (f!reader, breeding kink) Captain John Price x Reader: + what's a bad miracle?, 5.7k, your dream is finally in the process of coming true when you receive the worst call of your life. or just the worst call of your life so far. 🔴⚫ (ex-wife!reader, possessive behavior, voyeurism (accidental and implied non-accidental), drugged sex, non-consensual somnophilia, breeding kink, forced orgasm, implied forced impregnation, forced cheating, rape, dead dove: do not eat) + hold my neck between your teeth - price x reader x nik, 2.7k, When you agreed to marry John, you knew there was someone else. You could deal with that, as long as he agreed to one simple request.🔴 (alcohol, breeding kink, cuck kink, cheating, welcome to the throuple)

Poly 141 x Reader: -

PriceNik x Reader: + hold my neck between your teeth - price x reader x nik, 2.7k, When you agreed to marry John, you knew there was someone else. You could deal with that, as long as he agreed to one simple request.🔴 (alcohol, breeding kink, cuck kink, cheating, welcome to the throuple)

Fallout -

- luck be a lady tonight, [Barb Howard x Mr. House], 3.8k, A small piece of her feels something like pride at this potential show of interest. Another part is completely flummoxed. Barb laughs lightly before shaking her head at herself. She was no starlet. 🔴 (vaginal fingering, piv sex)