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#poly!soapghost
cod-dump · 6 months
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Ghost & Soap: *cuddling in bed*
Gaz: *walks into the room*
Soap: What the fuck, Kyle?
Gaz: Price isn’t here so I’m by myself
Ghost: … do you want to join us then-?
Gaz, climbing into bed: Yes
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lovifie · 20 hours
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Ghost needs to know where Soap and you always run to whenever the heli lands.
After every mission, every single one; the moment they touch ground, Soap and you disappear. Only coming back for the next breakfast, lunch or dinner.
He always gets pulls back by Price, talking about finishing paperwork and he never gets to see where you hide.
Until today.
He finally was able to catch the two of you enter one of the rooms on base before Price called him. Curiosity forces him to finish in time record, almost running to the room to see what is going on between you two.
What he didn't expect, was to find the two of you laying on a sofa, with Soap laying on top of you. With his pants down to his knees and yours hanging from your ankle.
Asleep, but Soap balls deep in your warm cunt. Too horny after the mission to wait to fuck eachother, but too exhausted to manage to do it without falling asleep mid-fuck.
He closes the door behind him, locking it. He likes your little arrangement, and he wants into the fun the two of you has.
Two pathetics pups, needing a third to fuck you right.
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loveindefinitely · 3 months
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ghost and soap who don't know what to do with a sweet, innocent barista like you. [nsfw]
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it starts when you first start working at the café a town over. just a shy, quiet-spoken girl, making coffee for the mysterious soldiers who come from the local military base.
when soap walks in one morning, expecting to find the kind old lady who runs the shop, imagine his surprise when he sees you bent over the counter, wiping it over with a damp rag. he damn near trips over his own feet when you look up at the sound of the bell, soft smile directed towards him. just for him.
when you ask for his order, it takes all of his focus to get the words out -- his own iced latte, and ghost's long black. all he can even think of is how your glossy lips would taste, or how your soft tits would feel against his bare chest. how your body would feel between him and simon, if the two of them were to ravage you in such a way.
that same night, when soap sneaks into ghost's room, he tells the man all about you between needy gasps. with johnny in simon's tight grip, the older man forces him to tell him everything, about what pervy things he had imagined. what he wanted.
when johnny finally spills over, it's with your name on his lips -- he's been playing it over and over in his mind since he first laid his eyes on your nametag.
it's two days later that an estranged man with a skull balaclava strides into your cafe, hands in his pockets. funnily enough, he makes the same order that the highly attractive scot had just a few days before.
when you hand him the two drinks with a bright smile, his gloved fingers brush yours, his voice low as he thanks you.
if your hand falls between your thighs later that night, thinking about your two new customers, then that's between you and your bedroom walls.
sometimes, weeks go by where you don't see either man. when that happens, you find yourself yearning to talk to them again -- to have their softened expressions filled with gratitude and... something else focused on you as you hand them their coffees.
even when they go, they always come back.
it's one thursday morning when, for the first time, both of them come in at the same time.
johnny's gesturing something wildly to his partner, while simon's hands remain in his pockets, patient expression solely directed at the shorter man.
and when both of them stop, to look at you?
if you were a weaker woman, you'd have fainted. you just ask them for their orders. you've already readied their cups.
after making their drinks, you move to hand them to the two, but a roughened hand around your wrist stops you in your tracks.
battering your lashes, you look up to find simon gazing down at you, something heated in his deep, brown eyes. when he leans down and offers you a day with them?
who are you to decline?
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sprout-fics · 9 months
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Tag, You're It: Part One
(Poly 141 x F! Reader) 18+
Masterlist
Rating: Explicit, 18+ WordCount: 6.3k Tags: F! Reader, Minors DNI, SoapGhost, Restraints, Chase/Takedown, Hunter/Prey, PiV sex, Oral sex (M receiving), Vaginal fingering, Dirty talk, Consent checks, Spitroasting, MMF, Unprotected sex (Use protection) Warnings: Mild Consensual Non Consent A/N: This chapter is the revised version of the originally posted chapter. To see the original please go here
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It’s Johnny who finds you first, naturally. 
The team spends most of the day making you wait. You had found a hiding spot before sunrise, brought along a small pack of supplies and some things to keep you occupied while you waited for someone to find you, for the chase to truly begin. Yet by mid-morning you were bored, and by noon you were practically groaning in frustration, considering using your phone to drop hints so they would just get on with it.
So you decide to take things into your own hands.
You begin darting between safe zones, checking your corners, making sure to watch your six, eyes keen and trained for threats. This little game of yours had specific zones on base mapped out to avoid at different times during the day, forcing you to adapt to your environment constantly to avoid curious stares from other soldiers and recruits. 
It’s fun, the thrill and anticipation has you feeling a bit like a little kid all over again, giggling into your hands as someone bypasses your hiding spot. Yet the thrill is only doubled by the knowledge of the consequences of you being found.
You realize too late that this new method of yours is exactly what the team has been waiting for.
You get sloppy. You’re looking over your shoulder when you round a corner at the edge of the armory in the light of mid-afternoon, halting mid step when you spot a familiar figure peeking around the opposite side of the building. 
Shit.
You double back quickly, but it’s too late, because the Scot barks a delighted little laugh, calls after you as he gives chase. His footsteps are slow, purposeful, and for a moment you’re reminded of the villains in horror movies that seem to walk so damn slow and seem to inevitably catch up with their victims. It should terrify you, but instead it makes something in your stomach twist with exhilaration.
You manage to draw him to one of the empty supply warehouses at the edge of the base, skidding inside and diving into a smaller hiding spot hidden into the shadows. Yet Soap has clearly seen you at least enter the building, because in the distance you can hear his footsteps echo against the concrete floor, glass breaking under his boots.
“Ohh songbird…”
You feel your heart hammer against the cage of your ribs, hands planted across your face to prevent even a single sound from escaping at the tenor of Johnny’s voice floating through the unused warehouse, sing-song, teasing, hungry.
There’s a light flickering in the aisles of upended crates and empty boxes, and the intermittent brightness manages to catch against the whites of your eyes. The flickering dimness of this space seems to only add to the rapid thump of your heartbeat, muscles coiled in preparation to run, to flee should you be discovered.
“I know you’re in here.” Soap taunts, and you can hear the clear excitement in his voice despite the fact that he’s trying to play into the persona of an enemy- tracking you down, taking you what he wants, only to set you free once more.
He’s close, you realize as his boots thud down the end of the hallway. Too close. You can hear his footsteps from where you press yourself inside the shadows of a doorway, his heavy boots a purposeful, slow echo throughout the empty space. It’s almost like he wants you to know exactly where he is, advertises his presence with every noise. What his strategy is, you aren’t sure, but you’re certain that if he gets any close he’ll find you for sure, claim his prize through the price of your flesh, your pleasure.
“Come out come out, wherever ye are…” He chuckles, and you rise slowly from where you crouch, tip-toe to the door and see the profile of him vanish just beyond the edge of the hallway. It gives you the chance you need, and you quickly but quietly move down the other direction, keeping eyes on where he’s disappeared to. 
Yet then your foot crunches against something fragile and you freeze, hear his pleased little noise of realization a split second before you bolt, shoes hitting the floor harshly as you sprint away from the sound of his pursuit. 
“There you are!” Johnny calls gleefully from behind you, and Christ- how did he close the distance so fast?! You can see the blur of him in the periphery of your gaze, the blue of his favorite shirt a mere blob of color as you race away from him, heart in your throat.
You did promise to not make it easy, after all. 
You skid around the next corner, nearly stumble, and launch yourself forward past a darkened doorway yawning into a pitch black room-
Before you realize your mistake a moment too late.
Skeletal hands reach out, snatch you mid-step and drag you backwards into the broad plane of a chest. You yell from behind the gloved palm covering your mouth, adrenaline spiking in your blood and trying to thrash away from Ghost as he hauls you further into the darkness. 
“Caught you.” He murmurs in your ear as your hands are dragged behind you, back flush with the rigid surface of his front. It sends a jolt of something through you, dark and thrilling as he overwhelms you with his adamantium strength, smears charcoal across the inside of your skull with his mere presence. You thrash in his grip, trying to actually put effort in even though you’ve not once dislodged him in all the time you’ve spent in his hold. Exhilaration squirms breathlessly in your chest, bright and electric with every gasping breath.
It only grows when the zip-ties fasten around your wrists, and you again try to wiggle free with no success. 
“You’re a fast little bugger.” Johnny pants as he catches up, leans on the doorway, his gloved fist planted on the frame. Yet his eyes dance with delight as he witnesses you caught in Ghost’s grasp, dragging his lip between his teeth at the conflict of outrage and desire in your gaze. 
“Hells bells.” The Scotsman breathes, and he steps forward, his hand falling to the noticeable bulge in his pants, which he idly strokes through his pants. You hadn’t even noticed, and realize belatedly that the thrill of the chase must affect him just as much.
Yet then his eyes catch that of Ghost’s behind you and he grins, untamed and starved. 
“Teamwork makes the dream work, eh LT?”
Of course. He chased you here on purpose, pursued you right into a trap. Right into Ghost. Working in tandem as they always do, sharing twice the reward with you, and with each other.
You fuckers.
“Get in here Johnny.” Ghost offers instead to Soap’s quip, and you clamp your thighs together as his hand abruptly descends into your pants, your wetness soaking through his gloved fingertips. You make a little sound of protest, trying to buck his hand away, only for a thick thigh to wedge between your legs and force them open.
“Looks like our pet likes to be chased.” Ghost observes idly, and if you didn’t know him better you’d swear he sounds detached, playing the villain all too well. It only ratchets the excitement inside you higher, and you answer it with a muffled yell that only summons a chuckle from the sergeant before you, now pressing against your front and sandwiching you between the two men. 
“Tough luck, us finding you first.” He tuts, and his hand raises your shirt and presses flat against the softness of your stomach appreciatively, suggestively. “Won’t be much left for Price and Gaz once we’re done with ye, hen.”
You stare defiantly up at him, and it only seems to please Soap, who’s eyes dance bright in the dimness and his fingers rise to tug a nipple under your shirt. It makes you falter for a moment, the sudden sharp sensation making your expression shift into something wanting, a stifled little mewl escaping you at the pleasure that rises inside you between his fingers and Ghost’s digits stroking against your folds. 
“Fuck, we’re going to ruin you.” He promises, and Ghost hums a dark, pleased assent in response. “Fill you up and send you scampering so the others can hunt ye down and have their fun too, aye?”
It’s the reminder that they’ll have their way with you before setting you loose again that has you shift on your toes, accidentally grazing your folds across the pads of Simon’s fingers. A bright trace of pleasure jolts through you as a result, and your eyes flutter for a moment as you try to resist the urge to repeat the motion. It’s hard to not break character while you’re this excited, trying your best to maintain the persona you’ve agreed upon, a little mouse caught in the jaws of a fox, held tight and let go, only to be chased down once more. 
It’s exhilarating, and despite the feigned fear in your eyes you can see your own excitement mirrored in the eyes of the sergeant with his face tilted down to regard you. Even so, you see his eyebrows raise an inch expectantly, waiting for a signal for the two of them to continue this act of theirs, the dangerous hunters who have captured you and will treat you as they see fit. You nod enthusiastically against Ghost’s palm, and the smirk that pulls at Johnny’s lips sets your stomach aflutter.
“Don’t worry hen, we’ll take care of you.” He promises, and gently pulls Ghost’s gloved hand away, tilts your head so his lips descend to meet your own. Teasing, he seizes your bottom lip  between his teeth, sucking it before releasing it with a wet little pop. You make a little sound of protest against his lips, but Soap’s only response is to cradle the back of your head and press you further into him. 
Kissing Johnny is always a touch overwhelming. It feels like you're drowning in him with the utter decadence he pours into you, lips moving against your own, tilting you into him, warm breaths fogging across your face as swallows down your gasps. It’s dizzying in the best ways, always leaves you a little drunk on the haze of him. The temptation of him makes your knees tremble underneath you, but even if you wanted to buckle you can’t, not with him pressing you up against Ghost’s front and moaning against your lips when you offer a little whimper of overwhelmed sensation. You try to suck it back in, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of your noises they obtain through the victory of your capture.
You close your mouth against Johnny as a result, sealing your lips against him a little indignantly at the sounds he’s able to elicit from you just by kissing you. Yet Ghost seems to catch on almost instantaneously, and the chuckle that rumbles up his chest vibrates against your back and sends you shivering between them. You clamp down on the shuddering gasp that threatens your throat, only for Ghost’s to press firmly down on your clit so abruptly it makes you choke.
“Nu uh, none of that.” He admonishes, and his other hand slides up to your face, squeezing your cheeks together and twisting you so you gaze up into his shadowed stare that reeks of devastation. “No need to be quiet, pet. Nobody but us can hear you here, so be as loud as you want.”
“Aye.” Soap agrees, and a broad hand reaches down to your back, dragging himself flat against your front so you’re squished between the muscular forms of the two men. “Can’t wait to hear all those pretty noises, sweetheart.”
You squirm a little between them, feeling too warm, too much suddenly with Soap trapping Ghost’s hand in your panties, pressing you up against the soldier so you can feel a poking hardness against your back. Arousal pools between your legs, and you whimper suddenly, baring your neck to them both when Soap rolls his hips forward experimentally. 
“Soap.” Ghost says then, and you feel him nod, watching as Soap follows his gaze to a crate that’s about waist high in the corner of the room. Soap grins.
It takes him a minute for him to wrangle the crate at an appropriate angle away from the wall, making a point to cheekily pat it beckoningly at you. You don’t have time to roll your eyes though, because Ghost forces you forward, making you trip over your feet before your hips collide against it. 
“Down.” He tells you easily, and there’s a hand pressing at the small of your spine, gently ushering you to bend until your cheek is pressed against the surface. Yet that isn’t enough, because his hands hoist your hips just a little higher so you have to balance on your toes.
They circle you, like sharks in the water, eyeing the prize of your flesh. Touching hands against your waist, your shoulders, tracing the swell of your ass. Wetness pools at your core, warmth spreading across every inch of exposed skin as they gaze down at you like the thing you are- their prey.
You try to raise yourself up off the crate, toes skidding as you seek purchase. It’s for show, the idea that you could escape from them. You know even if you stand, escape past the door it’s only a moment of freedom before one of them catches you once more, forcing you to the ground in defeat. 
Before you can entertain the idea further, Ghost’s broad palm settles low between your shoulder blades, gently pushing you flat against the surface of the crate once more.
“You’re not going anywhere, love.” He warns, voice low with the whisper of a threat that makes you shudder with vivification under his touch. It’s the same tone he uses when you bite at him in bed to get a move on, to stop wasting time. Dark, amused, saying with his tone alone that he’s going to take his time in dismantling you piece by piece until you’re nothing more than a gasping, whining puddle of desire. 
Now it echoes down at you and promises that same ruin, reminds you of your utter helplessness under their spell. “We’re just getting started.”
Behind you, Soap suddenly yanks your pants and underwear down to your knees, and the sudden air against your bare skin is enough for you to gasp, squirm away from the hands that smoothe over your hips. Yet Johnny’s touch is tender, almost reverent, a reminder of his affection for you, that even as you are their prisoner you’re their partner first and foremost, that they’ll keep you safe, wring the pleasure dry from you and then kiss the tears of overstimulation from your eyes after with a murmur of adoration.
It’s encouraging, and even as your heart pounds up your throat in anticipation your voice trembles as you play the part, snapping at them something to the effect of how they’ll never get away with this, to let you go.
You gasp as Soap’s hand cracks down on your ass smartly, making you flinch in surprise. He soothes his hand over the sting, the calloused palm of his hand grazing against the soft flesh there.
“Watch your words, darling.” He croons, sickly sweet. “Otherwise I’m sure LT will find a way to keep your mouth occupied.”
As if that somehow deters you. Instead you lift your gaze up to Ghost once more, summoning wordless defiance in your gaze. Ghost only chuckles, and you watch his other hand rub himself through his pants. The sight alone of his length pushing against his pants is enough for your expression to change, shift into something hungry.
There’s a pause between them, and as you look up you see a look exchanged between them before Soap’s voice speaks, softer and attentive.
“Color?” He asks gently, thumbs pressing into the dip of your flesh just above your ass. 
You breathe in for a moment, consider the stammer of your heartbeat, the race of searing excitement that pulses through your veins in delightful anticipation. 
“Green.” You declare. “About as green as a cadet fresh out of boot camp, Johnny.”
Soap huffs a little pleased laugh, talking over your sprawled form to Ghost. “She has a smart mouth, doesn’t she, LT?”
Ghost makes a little noise of assent, and his hand is unexpectedly sweet, reassuring for a moment as it strokes the edge of your face. You nuzzle into it briefly, flicking your eyes to him as a gentle reassurance. There’s a softness in his gaze as he tilts his head down at you for a moment before the mask of a hunter once more settles across his dark eyes, looking to the Scot behind you.
“We should do something about that, shouldn’t we, Johnny?” He asks darkly, palming himself before that same hand reaches to unfasten his belt. You can feel saliva collect in your mouth as he adjusts, frees himself from his pants. The flushed, thick girth of him has you flick your eyes up to him, pleading silently. Yet the look Ghost offers you is only amused.
“Over.” He states, and you feel Soap seize your hips and lift, twist so you suddenly are on your back, arms pressed under you.
“Oh, much better.” Soap observes as he catches sight of your half-lidded eyes. “Shite, we’re going to have so much fun with ye, pretty girl.”
You squirm a little at that, at being so openly on display for them. With your pants down to your knees, your shirt rucked up past your belly button, you shiver at the little thrill of exposure they give you. 
You watch as Ghost unfastens himself, and allows his cock to spring free with a little exhale of relief. The girth of him trills low in your stomach with the reminder of just how many times you’ve been split on his cock, his hand pressing you into his shoulder, the pillows, the sheets, your teammates…
“Open.” He declares, voice low but firm, a hand cupping under your head and lifting you so the tip of him grazes against your lips before pulling back. Tease.
You jolt when Soap leans over you, watching intently as Ghost strokes himself just above your face, and pushes a single finger inside you. He groans at the warm heat of you, the little flutter of invitation that greets him. It’s enough to startle a wanting little moan from you, legs shifting around his hips wedges between your thighs.
“Steamin’ Jesus.” He hisses, dragging his finger out, only to push it back in. It’s embarrassing how wet you are for them, worked up from the chase, from their words, from their touch alone. 
“The sight of you, hen” Soap breathes, his hand digging into your thigh to keep you from bucking. “Never seen anything prettier in mah life, I swear.”
You shift shyly, a little modest at the utter reverence in the Scot’s voice, skin warming as he gazes down at you. His lip is caught between his teeth, eyes glinting with utter fixation, watching the way you squirm under the intensity of his gaze. That look never fails to set your skin aflame, feeling his eyes trace your exposed flesh almost like he wants to eat you alive.
Before you can wiggle too far off the crate, however, Ghost presses a hand down on your shoulder to keep you in place with a murmur of “Stay. Put.”
“Can’t get away from us.” Johnny taunts playfully, and he steps back to pull your pants down past your ankles, tossing them to a corner of the room and fully baring your entrance to his burning gaze. “Fuck, look at this, LT.” and you whine a little as he swipes his fingers through your folds, holding them aloft so Ghost can inspect the webbed slick between them, glistening in the dim light. 
Ghost hums in appreciation, and your eyes draw back to him as he presses a thumb against the slit of his cock, where a small dribble of precum coats the flushed tip. You can feel your mouth water at the sight, lips parting a half inch in beating anticipation of the weight of him against your tongue. Ghost manages to catch the half-lidded stare you offer him, because you swear you see the fabric of his mask twitch in a smile. 
“Eager.” He observes. a hand cupping under your head and lifting you so the tip of him grazes against your lips. You don’t wait for him to tell you to open, jaw dropping so he can push just the head of him against you before retreating. You make a little noise of frustration at that, try to crane your head up to catch him, but Ghost keeps you in place, a hand wrapped around his cock and stroking himself just out of reach. 
“Use your words, pet.” He encourages. “All you have to do is ask.” 
You feel a flash of indignation at that, brow wrinkling in frustration at the idea that he wants to make you beg. Yet the desire of tasting him thrums low below your belly, and with a little twist of Johnny’s finger inside you the inhibition falls away with a shuddering little moan.
“Please.”
You hear Soap whoosh out a breath from the other side of you, air stolen from his lungs at the need in your voice. There’s a second finger stroking inside you now, and when Soap crooks his fingers you arch up with a little cry of ‘F-fuck, Johhny!’
“That’s it.” Ghost encourages. “Not such a smart mouth now, is there?”
It’s a little mocking, a little teasing, and yet laced with affection. It melts you at the seams, makes you swallow wetly, looking up at Ghost upside down.
“Please.” You beg openly now. “Please Sir, I-I want it. Just- ohh, hmnng-” You teeth your lip as Johnny once more curls his fingers, trying to close your legs for the barest indication of friction, only for the sergeant to plant a firm hand against the soft flesh of your thigh to keep them open.
“Oh, go on LT.” He encourages even as you writhe and whimper on his fingers, trying to force yourself down whilst also trying to rise up towards Ghost’s cock shamelessly. “I think she deserves it.”
Ghost nods with a little pleased huff, purring down at you as he once more presses the tip against your lips. “Good girl.” 
Finally, finally he allows the head of him to push inside your mouth in earnest this time, gently cupping your head as he guides you down his shaft. You want to thank him, but your breath stutters to nothing as Soap scissors his fingers inside you, stretching your entrance until your back bows off the crate, drawing taut with need. 
Your eyes flutter shut as Ghost gently rocks himself forward until at last the tip of him bumps against the back of your throat before pulling back and setting a gently, rocking rhythm past your lips. The precum of him floods across your tongue and you moan, eyes fluttering shut and opening your mouth wider so he can slide deeper.
“If that isnnae the hottest shite I’ve ever seen.” Johnny curses, and he shifts so he grinds the bulge of himself against you through his boxers. “Shame Price and Gaz aren’t here to see.”
“Day’s young.” Ghost remarks, and fuck- the reminder that they plan to just set you loose after this until your caught again has an electric pulse flutter below your stomach, making you clench down on Johnny’s fingers.
“Oh, ye like that?” Johnny breathes, amused. “Ye like being our capture or kill little thing, darlin?”
Yes. Yes- You think feverishly past the size of Ghost’s cock rocking into your mouth in slow, languid thrusts. You want to touch him, want him to reach down to Johnny, to circle your clit. Yet your hands remain fastened behind your back, and the thought of that alone has your legs fall open a little wider. You’re entirely at their mercy, submitting to their touch and whims as they use you as they see fit. You moan around Ghost, the sound vibrating through him and he grunts, holding back a little huff of pleasure before rocking into you a little deeper.
“Get on with it, sergeant.” He hisses at Johnny, and you can hear the strain in his voice now, as deeply aroused as you are. You take a little pleasure in that, that you are the one to summon this in him, 
“Mah pleasure, LT.” Soap returns a little breathlessly, and he pulls himself from his boxers so the weight of him smacks against your thigh. You can hear the schlick of him as he gives himself a few strokes, making a point to let his length drag against your stomach teasingly. The sound of encouragement you make is muffled by the weight of Ghost’s cock on your tongue. The salty, briny taste of him floods across your tongue, precum coating your tongue as he presses further, further, until your nose presses up against his pelvis and the thickness of his cock makes your throat spasm around him. He waits there until Johnny rolls his hips inch by inch, at last pressing his hips flush with yours.
The whine you try to make only squeezes the muscles of your throat down on Simon’s cock and you hear him force air through his nose with a long, low moan dragging you deeper into the hazy temptation of pleasure. It fogs against your senses, the world narrowing down further and further until the only sensations left are your breathless moans as he retreats and the pressing, unrelenting fullness Johnny presses into you.
You hear the sergeant groan, his thumbs pressed into your stomach as he braces himself, relishing the grip of you down onto his cock. There’s a low, purring pressure as he gives an experimental thrust into you, giving you a moment to adjust before setting a pace in earnest. Ghost pulls out from you long enough to hear the cracked moan that makes you throw your head back against his palm cushioning it from the crate. 
“Good girl.” He croons, holding himself and stroking to the same tempo Johnny sets inside you. “Taking him so well, pet.”
You shudder at the praise, nerves glowing brightly, warm with building arousal just as Johnny snaps his hips to yours in a precise, unerring thrust. The girth of him presses a delicious, wanting fullness into you. 
“G-God, Johnny-” You pant, chest rising, face warm, sweat beading at your back. “Fuck, Johnny please, please, I want-”
“I know, darlin, I know.” He coos, fingers digging into your hips for purchase as his hips begin to smack against yours. The drag of him has gasps shivering from your chest, a series of punched out little moans as his reward as he begins to fuck you in earnest. “Look so pretty split on mah cock, shite-”
He groans, and when your eyes flutter to him you see him throw his head back, brow scrunched shut and beading with sweat. 
“Fuck-” He curses, lost in the sensation of your walls gripping down on him, the stretch of you around his cock as you try to drag him deeper, deeper. “Gonna fill you up so good, give Gaz and the captain something to look forward to, aye?”
You choke on a little broken noise at that, at the idea of Gaz and Price getting their hands on you only to find Johnny’s load still dripping between your thighs. It whimpers up your throat, arousal sparking taut through your form and drawing your muscles a little rigid and wanting in response. 
Yet then Ghost has the audacity to hush you, lifting your head and sliding himself back into your mouth once more to muffle any other noises you can offer. He too offers a long, drawn out groan as he resumes his thrusts a little faster than before, relishing your gasping moans around the width of him sliding into you wetly. His other hand braces against your chin, keeping you in place as he pushes just shy of your throat. You curl your tongue against the tip of him and relish the surprised little grunt he offers you in response, hips stuttering for a moment before he collects himself and pushes a touch deeper in response.
“Good girl.” He practically snarls, and his other hand raises to trace the slight rise of his girth in your throat. “Fuck.”
A hand descends to your chest, twisting a nipple through your thin shirt and you jump a little under his touch, clenching down on Johnny’s length buried inside you.
“Shite-” The sergeant moans, a little high in his throat. “Fuckin stranglin’ mah cock, hen, Christ-”
You huff as Ghost gently pulls back from your throat, and make it a point to flex your muscles and clench down on the stretch of Johnny inside you, if only to hear the keen that escapes from him in response. 
It gives him the indication he wants, because soon you feel him thrust a little deeper, the curve of his cock grazing over something pulsing warm and full inside you. The sound you offer just as Simon pulls himself almost entirely out of you is nothing less than obscene, bucking up into him in an effort to repeat the sensation of your limbs going completely weak against the unyielding wash of searing, white-hot desire that coils sharply in your core. 
A thumb smears the tears of pleasure beading in the corner of your eyes as Ghost pauses to take in the sight of you with dark, hungry eyes. You’re splayed on your back, bottom half entirely exposed as Johnny buries himself deeply inside you. The thin tank top you’re wearing bunches around your collarbone, revealing the rise and fall of your chest as you pant, gasping in desperate pleasure. 
“Bleedin’ Christ.” Ghost growls, a hand twisting an exposed nipple again if only to see you jump with a little gasp of “A-ah-!”
“Aye, don’t forget about me.” Johnny teases, as he too speeds his thrusts into you, hands dragging you by your hips to greet the slap of his thighs against yours. It makes a muffled little whimper escape you, partly silenced by Ghost’s cock as it slides wetly over your tongue. You can only force your mouth wider, eyes rolling back as Johnny thrusts into you, each press of his cock filling you with delicious, addictive pleasure. It weakens across your hips, forces you pliant and open between them as they fill you at both ends, rendering you limp to their pleasure, and to yours. 
You can hear every dragging breath from them both as they begin to use you in full, and you float endlessly in pleasure, unable to tether yourself down as something molten coils tighter in your core with every thrust. Whatever words they say next are lost to you, deafened by the series of choked moans that spill around Ghost’s cock, suffocating your chest in a searing, hot push of air that clouds your senses in warm velvet. 
It’s so much, and you try to catch yourself but you can’t, helpless between them as pleasure winds tighter below your belly. The wet gush of you squelches lewdly around Johnny’s length as he thrusts with firm, precise thrusts inside you, and when he lifts a leg to give himself more access he manages to graze over that perfect, glowing nerve that briefly has you seize against them both, endorphins drowning out all other sensation as electricity races up your spine.
“Fuck, fuck-” Johnny swears in response to the broken, whimpering groan you give him, and you feel yourself suddenly twisted so you lay on your side, one ankle slung over his shoulder as his hips stutter against yours in an uneven rythm. Ghost adjusts to the new angle, and with every thrust you can feel him bump against the back of your throat, his voice dropping in a series of low, choked groans as he chases his climax. 
You wish he’d pull back long enough for you to babble senselessly for them, your words an unending mantra of Yes, more, please, good, so good-
You’re lost in them, in the pull of Johnny’s hot, pulsing cock in the wet clutch of your cunt, the ridged veins on the underside of Simon’s cock tracing over your tongue. The marrow of you feels weak against pleasure, surrendering to them twisting you to their whims, reverent and yet merciless, knowing the map of your desire and plucking the threads of you until the stuffing of you spills free into their touch. Fuzzy, muffled by the thrum of blood in your ears and the drum of your heart in your throat.
You’re going to come, you realize. You can feel the inevitability of it winding through your veins, nerves alight with sparkling, glowing desire that burns brighter, hotter between the three of you. It draws closer, closer, and as it does you feel as if you gaze up at a towering wave that threatens to crash over your head. It shadows your senses and you try to climb upwards as it crest so you don’t drown-
Yet then Soap presses a thumb down on your clit and you sob at the sudden intensity of the pleasure right as your orgasm breaks over you, drawing you down into an endless tumult of sensation. Distantly, you can feel your walls spasm around Soap’s cock, your entire body going rigid as you suck in a breath against the urgent swell of pressure that releases from your core and floods through every fiber of your taut muscles. 
You hear Soap whimper.
The sound must do something to Ghost, because suddenly he’s grabbing his sergeant’s shirt and dragging him closer, rucking the mask up to his nose so he can press a sloppy kiss against Soap’s parted, panting lips. 
You feel Soap’s hips stutter as the aftershocks of your orgasm begin to pulse through you, and he presses himself flush with your hips before a silky wet warmth spills deep inside you. The groan that pours from his lips is only swallowed by the lieutenant in front of him as Ghost shifts to pull himself past your lips. 
Simon releases Johnny, and as you heave and gasp for air, shuddering as your orgasm begins to recede, he fists his cock over your face, the shine of your spit glistening against the flushed width of him. He plants a fist next to your head with a cracked moan, bracing as his hips buck forward into his grasp, eyes scrunched shut in pleasure before his cock twitches, cum squirting across your face and fluttered gaze. 
Johnny leans over you, thrusting a few shallow, slow jerks into you as the fluttering pulse of you milks him dry. His chest heaves, arms shuddering with the force of his orgasm as he slowly gathers breath. He braces on his forearms, bent over you, and you can feel the warmth of him press against your stomach as he gasps, hips jerking reflexively. 
“Fuck.” He grits, letting his head drop to the plane of your abdomen for a moment as the three of you gather yourselves. “Fuckin’ beautiful, darlin. Did so well for us.”
“Y’good, sweetheart?” He gasps after a few moments, and it takes a few extra to offer him a nod, head drooping with the sudden dearth of energy your orgasm has left you. You can feel your heart still hammering in your ears, body slumped against the crate under you. 
When Soap pulls himself from you, there’s a little whimper of overstimulation at the drag of him against your walls. Yet he only shushes you gently, kneading little circles into your hip to ground you once more. 
“Shh, you did so good, baby.” He tells you earnestly, voice still a little breathless as he gathers himself. Likewise, Ghost forces breaths through his nose above you, trying to even his breathing and bracing a hand on your shoulder to keep you from flopping onto your back at an uncomfortable angle. When he shifts, it’s to reach for something on his belt. There’s a click as he flicks open his knife, cutting the zip ties from your wrists and freeing you once more. 
“Solid, sergeant?” He inquires gently, and you nod to him. 
“Right as rain, sir.” You offer, and he huffs a little noise of contentment at your response. His hands land on you gently, hauling you upright as Johnny fumbles for your pants tossed forgotten in the corner of the room. You tilt your head back into Ghost’s front appreciatively as Johnny gets them over your ankles the same way they came up. 
“Can you stand?” Ghost asks, and even though you hesitate for a moment you nod. As you rise off the crate both he and Johnny tuck themselves back into order, exchanging a few words over you to check in with each other as well. 
You wobble a little on your legs for a moment, and you can feel the smugness radiate from both of them without even looking. You shoot them a dirty look, but the look Soap gives you in return is full of mischief. 
“Better get a move on.” Ghost intones, and his voice too is tinted with a chuckle. “Gaz and Price are waiting.”
“Aye, LT is right.” Soap drawls. “Day’s still young. Plenty left to play before it’s over.”
You nod, take a single step forward. Yet then you yelp as Johnny’s hand smacks against your ass, making you jump about a foot in the air in surprise. You stumble a few feet before you dart off, heart thrilling at the remainder of the game left just as the sun dips below the horizon.
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prismuffin · 9 days
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so for my bday ficcc i have two ideas
idea number one: male reader is based on my demon oc. basically personality wise they very sassy and flirty. kinda a bitch ass ho. idc who u pair it with imma be real. it could be ghost, soap or or price. or like batman. he summons them n junk
idea number 2:
polycule ghost, soap x male reader. male reader is a smart dumbass. like they’re an airhead all of the time minus work. they’re a colonel but honestly dumb as shit outside of work. obvious as hell.
if u want more ideas i can tell u love u mwahhhhh
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A/n: Hey Webbie!! Happy birthday!! (Or late birthday depending on when I get this out) decided to go with option 2 kay? also i didnt know how to end this- fight me-
Idiot Boyfriend
Poly!GhostSoap x airhead!male!reader
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( summary: Ghost reflects on how he fell in love with two dumbasses )
Warnings?: swearing, mentions of alcohol, talks of guns and violence, reader being a dumbass
!-!more under the cut!-!
Ghost sighed as he watched you chase Gaz around base. He'd apparently tickled you which you saw as a threat, immediately taking off to get your revenge. Hearing a laugh beside him Ghost turned, seeing an amused Soap who was also watching your silly antics. "Go get 'em sweetheart!" He cheered you on and Ghost groaned. "Don't encourage 'em Johnny," "Why not? This is a funny sight," He smirked, sitting next to Ghost, his head instinctually falling onto the taller mans shoulder. Ghost rolled his eyes as he watched you trip, Gaz stopping to laugh at you. "Oh damn, think he's alright Lt?" Soap asked only to get silence as a response. "Lt?" Ghost had heard him, though he was too busy wondering why he was even with such an airhead anyway. He'd already been dating one headache why did he feel the need to worsen his pain with another.
When he'd first met you he was already with Soap, their relationship being monogamous at the time. Though that was more of a suggestion than set in stone. Maybe it was the fact that the first time he'd met you- you were choking some guy out with the power of your thighs alone that'd intrigued him. Either way you'd easily clicked with Soap after meeting him, and after exchanging war stories and silly jokes with the two men all day they both knew at the end of it that they liked you. Initially, it wasn't going to go anywhere but Soap was the one who suggested adding you to their little relationship. Ghost was hesitant at first, not because he didn't like you but because he wasn't sure if you liked him. You'd obviously liked Soap, romantically or not you both clicked immediately, but for some reason for Ghost it was so hard to read you on your feelings for him. Sure you were polite out of respect but could it ever go deeper than that? He knows sometimes his dark humor can fall flat and his stoic tone doesn't help either. Soap had reassured him that he had a charm that couldn't be beat, but of course he'd say that. You and him clicked so easily, you both told terrible jokes and fucked around when you shouldn't. You both had a mutual love for explosives and beer and karaoke and had this natural bond he could only wish for with you. After talking about it they sort of dropped it for a few weeks but it was clear that Soap had liked you and he could understand why. Especially after what he considers the true turning point for him. It was a pretty normal night on base, everyone asleep in their barracks, everyone except Ghost. He often had nights like these where sleep was the last thing on his mind, memories plaguing his brain as he fought desperately to think of anything else. He would wake up Johnny, tell him about the bad thoughts, but he really needed the sleep after the last mission they'd been on. So he thought to deal with it alone, going into the kitchen to hopefully find a stashed bottle whisky to drown his sorrows for the night. Only upon entering he found you, leaning against the counter, pouring yourself a freshly brewed pot of coffee. You both locked eyes, a mutual understanding flooding you both as you held out the warm pot, asking silently if he'd join you. He, of course, was hesitant but had nothing better to do. So he grabbed a mug from the cabinet and watched as you poured his coffee, black.
You'd both sat in silence for some time before you asked quietly why he was up. He told the truth, nightmares, but didn't go into much detail understandably. You hummed, replying with the same answer when he'd asked you a similar question. Your jokey manner was all but lost in this moment, at least for a second. You'd asked him to talk about his nightmares with you, saying that it'd be better than him just holding everything in all the time. He didn't expect it, but you were so easy to talk to. Just the smallest amount of convincing and he did what you asked. That night you both shared the stories of your nightmares with each other. You comforted him, gave him advice and told him things he definitely needed to hear. Him ranting only got the ball rolling as he found himself sitting on the common room couch with you simply talking about anything and everything, your company in the now silent base was warming. You'd even laughed at his horrid jokes, throwing back a few that he's now added to his growing roster of dark humor. He hadn't felt like this since...well...Johnny. As the sun rose and light cracked through the curtains he couldn't help but feel a little glad that he'd gotten to spend time with you. That night alone showed him he did have a natural connection with you. You understood him in ways he didn't even think you could. He found you also shared his insomnia episodes, his love for dogs and specific guns, his respect of stealth and going at it alone on missions. When he saw Soap later that day he nonchalantly added that he's now considering asking you to join their relationship, and he couldn't help but replicate the smile on Soaps face.
One which he held now.
"Lt?" Soap glanced up at Ghost, noticing the slight crinkle in his eye and the small indent underneath his cloth balaclava. To anyone else he'd look completely normal right now, but Soap knew that those miniscule signs meant that he was smiling. Smiling at you as you groaned on the floor. Closing his eyes, Ghosts shoulders bounced in a silent laugh before he moved to stand, Soap following him with his eyes before realizing where he was going, and moving to go to you too.
Rolling on your back, you huffed, the cold floor on your rear as you stared up at the blinding white flood lights that shone down on you. Only they were blocked by a shadow, then two, the smiling faces of your boyfriends stood over you. "Need a hand sweetheart?" Soaps Scottish accent filled your ears and you couldn't help the small smile that found it's way to your face. Reaching out with both hands you grabbed onto one of each of theirs, laughing as they hoisted you up with ease. You felt Ghost pat your back before his arm wrapped itself around you. Looking at him you noticed the small smile beneath his mask and reciprocated his action, now committing to a full side hug. You just held each other there before Soap joined in, now you held both of your boyfriends in your arms. You rocked back and forth between them, your chase with Gaz momentarily forgotten as you accepted this newer task of being held. Only momentarily though as Gaz came back into view you suddenly remembered what you were doing before this, your glare being set on his form. "Garrick!" You yelled and he ran again, you moved to chase him but the hands of ghost didn't seem to want to let you go. "No you don't, come on, we're leaving." "Awww but Simon come on-" you groaned, "I'm starving." He stated bluntly, practically dragging you away from the scene as Soap laughed at your pouting face, following the two of you to the kitchen. Ghost simply listened as you began ranting about some random show that you and Soap had been watching, allowing you to completely forget about the Gaz thing as you got distracted by your own thoughts again. He watched as you and Soap recounted a particular episode that seemingly got on your nerves as it ended on a cliff hanger, silently smiling once again as he relished in the company of his two idiot boyfriends.
----!----
( HAPPY BIRTHDAY WEB I HOPE YOU LIKE YOU BIRTHDAY FIC SEXY !!! )
Thanks for reading! Have a great day/night!!
My requests are CLOSED !!
See my DIRECTORY for upcoming fics!
Masterlist
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dutiful-wildcraft · 2 months
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Pack 141 - Fae!Soap Headcanons
Tags: monster au, Fae!Soap, poly 141, sfw, fluff, general lore, Soap's mom? for a minute at least, fae lore I roughly researched.
-Soap's mother was a stubborn and superstitious woman. When her baby boy was born with a caul over his face, her heart seized with dread. She had been told stories, how it was lucky to have a child able to see beyond the veil. How the caul signified a great power, coveted by the people of the forest. Her only babe, marked as Fae. 
-They would come for her child, steal him in the night and replace him with another. And it would be a cold day in hell before Jill Mactavish let anything touch her son.
-She slept with the bundle clutched tightly in her arms, refusing to sleep until she left the hospital. Left him wrapped snugly to her front as she hammered iron railroad spikes into the corners of her property; hung horseshoes above her doors, sprinkled fine lines of salt around every doorway and window of her home. 
-She thought it had worked. At least for a while. But the Fae are persistent if nothing else. Jill began to notice strange flowers pop up around the foundation of her home, odd tapping rhythms heard in the night. Would she know? Would she know if the lamb in her arms was replaced with another?
-She was so exhausted, worn thin from paranoia. Yet Jill Mactavish was no quitter. Under the light of a pale full moon she marched to the edge of her property. Her blue eyed bundle cooing and gumming happily at his fingers as he wriggled against her chest. With a final look to the boy she faced the forest with a stern resolve, “You won't take him! But I'll share him! Leave us be or help me raise him right!” 
-The winds rustled, branches creaking ominously. Leaves gathered and spun into a tornado of color in the chill autumn air. Jill would freeze in place as the leaves fell away, revealing an ethereally beautiful creature before her. All high cheekbones and sharp eyes surrounded by inky black sclera. 
-Ordinarily the Fae would swap out changelings, snag the babe once it was the right size and replace it with one of their own. Considering the wee one was already Touched….perhaps a swap would be unnecessary.  Human mother's were coveted. The milk of human kindness and all that, and the babe was truly beautiful, destined to be strong. The fae had looked Jill up and down with a calculating look. Yes. A deal could be struck. They would raise the baby together.
-And thus Soap spent his time in equal parts amongst the Fae and humans, learning to socialize with both, though he didn't completely fitting in with either. Soap was hell on wheels. Rambunctious and equally curious, constantly nosing or getting into things he ought not have. Not that he was ostracized by either group he was just..*odd.* Unable to find his footing or close friends.
-You could say that Soap has many siblings, though this term is used liberally.  By human technicalities Soap is an only child (his mum's baby boy). His mother, through the nature of her bargain,  was brought into the fold with young John. Helping to raise and nurse her own gaggle of fae children of differing bloods. Other children Soap would call family.
-Fae don't have strict family dynamics, it's certainly a community effort to rear little ones. Fae children can be produced in a myriad of ways, with no one way being seen above another, p in v? that works. Born from a flower? Sure why not. Throw some herbs and intent together until a wailing babe sounds from the cauldron? That works too.
-Soap naturally inquired about this, as any kid would. “Ma? Did I come from a flower?” “You came from my belly wee one” Soap had squinted at her, eyeing her belly incredulously, "but how?”
-It took several conversations to get the toddler to understand that the other children in his human primary school were not in fact his brothers and sisters. 
-As humans are fascinated with the Fae, the Fae are equally as fascinated by humans. As John grew into a young man he would see the differences. The Fae courts had long fallen into a peaceful rhythm. The humans? Hardly. With a powerful knack for chaos, among other abilities. Soap threw himself into the army. Keen to help as many as he could, and perhaps even find his own way. 
-Soap is a marked child. He is more resilient on average than most Fae, and shows no obvious limitations in what disciplines he can learn. However, as marked he does have particular dispositions toward the following.
-Tongues, the ability to speak any language at will. Sometimes without thinking about it. For Soap this isn't automatic, but after a few days of listening or studying he's fluent. (Albeit with the accent). This gives Soap a peculiar edge when working with varying communities, elements, and other critters/creatures.
-Glamour, a sophisticated illusion, these may allow for invisibility or changes to appearance for a brief time (upwards to an hour but possibly longer depending on the severity of the change). Living amongst the Fae made permanent changes to his body. The sclera of his eyes had shifted inky black. His teeth and nails razor sharp. There is an ethereal beauty to all Fae as well. Naturally Soap uses this ability to cover some of the obvious issues.
-Soap knows he's distracting. He's a proud thing, and rarely bothers shifting that. He's damn good at what he does and looks damn good doing it. Hshows off his muscles/skills/looks without shame. 
-Shapeshifting, self explanatory, but only works proportionally give or take a few inches. He may take on the appearance of another person or creature, briefly. But once again, only appearance. Mimicking voices is another skill.
-Sight or Clairvoyance, this ability's range depends on the court or bloodline. In Soap's case, his visions will occasionally come to him in dreams, these being more sophisticated visions or events far in the future. These visions are generally more detailed.  He is typically privy to smaller prophecies,  glimpses of events happening minutes before him. These are typically vague, but have consistently been enough to save his and his teammates asses numerous times in the field.  The Infamous Mactavish Intuition ;)
-Soap is one hell of an alchemist, and can make due with most natural items at his disposal. Poisons, potions, explosives, you name it, Soap can make it. He excelled remarkably in the maths and sciences in school, and it’s why he was also quickly assigned to demolitions so long ago. 
-Soap has a very noticeable smell. One that isn't exclusively detected by other supernatural beings. Any human standing beside him would notice it. Lemon and shortbread, with a warm curl of rose.  Clean, green and vaguely sweet. People wonder if his callsign was from this fact rather than his prowess on the field.
-Nudity has no taboo with the Fae. Raised as such, the man has literally no shame. Soap Mactavish has been naked since he was a child in the woods, and will continue to proudly do so. Does not understand why everyone else is so uptight about it. Will bust in on someone in the shower without a second thought. “Stop screamin’ it’s just me”
-Fae are very partial to music, and Soap is no exception. He is so easily captivated by the sound, swaying slightly, almost as if hypnotized. Soap isn’t as in tune with artists and genres as Gaz is, but he keeps a hoard of songs on his phone. Gaz is his main contributor, keeps him well fed with playlists he makes. Playing new records for Soap as they bop around the kitchen together, playfully dancing or headbanging together.  Soap was once pretty proficient with piano and guitar at his mam’s encouragement. His singing however, nearly got him killed in basic. 
-Many animals are the watchdogs of the Fae. Soap has been seen having conversations with himself, unknowing to onlookers that a little frog or squirrel was sitting beside him. Someone swears they saw a mouse crawl out of his tac vest once. He whistles with the birds, scoops up bugs and plops them back into the weeds.  He unfortunately doesn’t know the language of the shower spider. He doesn't bother to learn, he thinks he prefers the silence in this instance. 
-Soap can be attracted with a myriad of things just like any other fae. Music as mentioned above is one. He is also partial to pretty chimes and bells, running water, shiny and/or colorful displays, as well as anything sweet, candies or sweet creams/milks/liquors.
- Too much contact with iron on his bare skin will poison him.  Fortunately most weaponry constructed now is made of more synthetic material. It can be noticed that Soap is very particular about his gloves, and is rarely seen without them on. Iron on properties or above doors won’t exactly stop him, but it is incredibly uncomfortable and will lead to sickness if he is trapped within such a ward for too long. 
-Fae, like crows, are enamored with jewels and other shiny objects, less of a weakness really and more of a distraction. Soap, prior to his enlistment had several piercings, such as his ears, and brow…among other things. He was very fond of the adornments, and easily captivated by the shiny displays on others. (This also extends to his intense love of blowing shit up and watching the sparks fly, big ole hearts in his eyes as the colors dance)  In the event the team goes out for something special Soap will throw on a few pieces for fun~ 
-Soap can not lie, at least not directly, however Soap is a very sharp lad, and has learned to cleverly navigate around this by either not telling the whole truth, letting others assume, or simply not correcting misconceptions. He is a Fae afterall, being clever is his specialty.
-Customs of love and marriage vary among the Fae. Many Fae interpret strong love as variations of servitude, especially towards human mates.  Soap has gotten himself tangled between both of these versions of love. For Soap love is servitude. Not something to be expected of his lovers, but from him. Soap gives himself to his lovers willingly, He wants to be good, give them anything they want and let them take what they need. Love is worship, and Soap is a very devoted man.
-Soap and Gaz had bro’d up as soon as they spotted each other. Having seen through each other's glamours, they became fast friends. Two oddballs fighting side by side. Which would turn into playful banter, and kips on the helo leaning against one another. Then to wandering hands and desperate kisses, having found comfort and fondness in each other after years of hiding themselves among humans. Soap and Gaz are the most cuddly. Johnny likes to lay sprawled in his Sphinx’s nest, his arms curled around his middle, face buried against Gaz's stomach. Both of them absolutely hate to sleep alone. 
- Soap had a knack for getting into trouble. Disregarding orders to do what needed to be done. Had nearly been kicked out had his skills not saved his skin (and countless others). It was Price who sniffed him out, offered to take the man on loan for a bit. Soap's former CO was happy to be rid of him and hopeful that the notoriously stern Captain would knock some sense into him. Price, however had no such plans, he cut Soap loose, full authority, and watched the man bloom. Price did not anger at Soap’s decisions, didn’t flinch at his savagery in the field. In fact, Price had looked upon him with fondness (and a fair amount of exasperation). He kept Soap warm with lovely praises and a regular morning coffee, plus a heavy splash of sweet cream, for good measure.
-Simon had been more difficult, adamant on giving the Fae a hard time. Having seemingly been put off by Soap ever since he bounded off the truck and fist-bumped his arm on the tarmac. But Soap was determined, chatting and teasing, unphased by the lieutenants' icey behavior. They fell together in no time. Soap nestled to his chest, lips brushing over Simon's slow beating heart. Soap would never admit it. Never admit that he knew it would be like this all along. That Soap had seen him in his dreams.
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meralasan · 11 months
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Gaz is finally getting the attention he deserves 😌🫶
and this time I didn't even have to crop it for tumblr! that's a success, right? ... right...?
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cixteenyne · 1 month
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Johnny Brain-rot + 141. Sorta proofread not really!🤩
Hagsgejwjsn omg I’m so normal about CodMW..
Just thinking of soap who’s a dumbass perv. That’s it. He’s a dumbass but he’s a perv, he just can’t be discreet for the life of him!! Give him a break..
Lifting up your skirt dead in the middle of base as his coworkers stroll by. He’d call Simon over and tease you with him. Very loudly.
Poor guy can’t control his volume and basically shouts and hoots about how much he wants to stuff his fingers inside of you as Price just looks on in amusement, cigar in hand.
It isn’t like he isn’t self aware- no! He knows he’s being terribly nasty and inappropriate, especially at his job, how shameful, he knows. But does he care? Mm, no not really.
Can you blame him when he can’t help but flip that flimsy little dress over your hips and put his hands on you?? Can you??
It was almost like giving a bone to a dog, or when you give a wild animal a scrap of meat and then they decide to keep coming back, expecting more next time, All but- Johnny boy doesn’t expect, he just takes!
There was this one time you’d been introduced to the 141, and going back to the “being groped in front of coworkers” thing, the moment he let the crew set eyes on you,
his hands were on you right after! Almost like a shopkeeper showing off all the functions of his latest toy, pushing all the buttons and twisting every knob for others to see and gawk at in wonder. He wanted his guys to approve of and appreciate his doll too!!
Gaz just slid his eyes over to everyone else- and they seemed pretty normal about it, so he indulged too, not wanting to miss anything, how could he look away when his cock didn’t seem to want to? And well- Cap said he’s gotta use his head about things somehow!! Never specified which one.. not his fault!
Price always had this probing look on him, his eyes flit slowly from soap, to his hands, to you, to your body, to the way you’re reacting and all over again, you can’t really tell if he’s about to scold Johnny (half-assedly) for being dirty- or goad him to get better reactions out of you.
He’d decided to mix the two together in one sitting.
“‘re you a Damn mutt, Johnny? Fuckin’ hell. ‘S Quiet girl, ‘eah? Louden ‘er up a bit.”
And in that rough and gruff voice too?! What a double kill…
Great going Price!! Way to punish your subordinates and hold them accountable..
Ghost isn’t any better. Johnny boy just adores his Lt. and looks up to the man. Price egging him on is one thing- but Simon?! GHOST?!!
Oh that man’s gone with his morals, he’s diving IN.
The second. The MILLISECOND Simon shows any sign of wanting a show from soap and his pretty girl, his slacks tighten and he’s showing everything.
That pretty throat of yours,
your cute sounds and reactions to his nasty little touches. Uh, who’s the pervert here again..?
Basically a sales pitch that includes a 2 for 1 deal, you and Johnny both- if Simon decides he wants to play into it.
Well, Gaz is interested and Price wants a show too, and would want for Simon to relax! And well.. captains orders..!
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8-rae-rae-8 · 6 days
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CW: Petre, sensory overload (briefly described), poly 141 undertones
Sometimes all he needed was to listen. Hard days followed Ghost no matter what had happened. It could have been a perfect mission, Johnny, Gaz and Price at his side and never missing a beat, but something could just feel wrong. Whether it was the blow of the wind, or the way his gloves rubbed into his palms, it managed to get under his skin with ease.
The tic of his hands every time he settled his weapon only served to irritate him more. Frustrated grunts coming from him over the most minor things. Ghost couldn't even be bothered to reply to some of Johnny's typically playful comments. Everything sounded like sandpaper to his ears.
It was only inevitable that he'd be called to talk to Price once they got back to base. A simple two week mission that felt like months to Ghost. Only growing more irritated day by day.
Upon seeing Gaz, Soap, and Price there, it felt he may have been more snappy than he had assumed. If he had a tail, it would have tucked between his legs.
"Simon." Price spoke sternly. The privilege of being The Ghost would only exist if it was purely a work problem. No, this was personal. His irritation was personal, and his misdirected anger was a mistake.
The other two simply sat on the chairs in front of Price's desk, eyes watching as Ghost stepped forward between them.
"I didn't mean to." Ghost was quick to say-No, Simon was quick to say. His gear was off, simple fabric balaclava in place of the plastic skull one.
"You need to rest though, aye?" Kyle asked, leaned back in the chair. His hand reached to rest on Simon's upper back.
Wordlessly, Simon nodded. Another hand slowly lowered him to his knees, and another pulled off the mask. A warm hand brushed through his hair. Simon didn't fight, he relaxed. He was in someone else's hands, someone he trusted. His mind felt fuzzy as he just listened and moved as he was made to.
His head was quick to lay against someone's thigh, Johnny's most likely. The hand brushed through the short but knotted hair, cleaning him up just a bit. Simon blinked slowly, letting himself breathe.
A candle was lit on Price's desk, a scent carefully chosen by Simon a while ago. A scent like fresh laundry, and not laundry using the SAS' provided things. Like laundry at home, warm and cozy.
It wasn't hard to ease Simon into regressing. He practically melted against Johnny's legs, an arm wrapped around one of his calves and his face buried in his thigh.
"That's a good boy..." Johnny cooed to him, while it seemed like Price and Kyle began talking about something else. Simon didn't catch on, all he understood was what Johnny was telling him.
"Ye just needed to relax, aye?"
Without all of the things that had made him feel icky in the field, relaxing really did make a world of difference. Simon slowly nodded.
His arms tightened a little around Johnny's leg when he shifted into a more comfortable position, pulling in deep breaths.
"Let's go rest in my room." Soap said, speaking to him almost like he was a little puppy. If he had a tail, it would wag.
Simon just nodded again, a small whine slipping from his lips. Just listen, let them take away all of the big things. No more choices, just a puppy. A little dog that knew how to listen and relax. They'd never use that against him.
Steady touch was used to help lift Simon to his feet, Johnny standing up with him and gently guiding him back to his room. Simon stumbled a few times, his head too fuzzy to do much more than looking around and huffing in complaint about having to move to get to ahere he wanted to be. Unfair to him, really.
The second they were there though, Simon hopped up on Soap's bed and nuzzled against the blankets. It smelled just like him, comforting and warm. He happily sunk into the firm mattress.
Johnny softly chuckled and simply pet his head after closing the door.
"yeah.. ye needed some puppy time." Soap smiled down at him when Simon huffed in return.
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cod-z · 3 days
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| Ch. 4 | That's not Simon...
Your media consumption isn't my responsibility | TW: Angst, Memory Loss, OOC Ghost, Negative Thoughts, Self-Hate, Self-Anger, Hurting, Small Comfort
Pairing(s): Poly!141 x Reader
| Masterlist | Ch. 3 | Ch. 5 | WC: 2.3k
Walking down the halls towards Price’s office, your eyes caught movement in a shadowed corner, your eyes caught the flick of brown and black. Your eyes avoid the corner, trying not to pry into anyone’s business till you hear sweet words being said by a Scottish accent you knew too well of, followed by a hushed–but just the same sweetness–gruff, British voice by a certain skull-masked. A breathless sigh left your lips as you heard words that weren’t supposed to be heard by your ears.
You step back, trying to make it quiet as possible, thanking whatever high being is out there, that the floorboards didn’t creek beneath you. You turn back to where you came from, deciding to go and take the longer route from that shady corner, though plans were foiled the moment you collided against a wall of flesh of the other Sergeant in your regiment.
Words failed to leave your throat as your eyes trail up his figure till you met eye-to-eye, his mouth moving as he greets you with your name, you would’ve greeted back till you saw another form shift behind him, the person that you were called in for.
“Funny meeting you here, Sergeant.” Price gives you a small smile, followed by a chuckle, moving next to Gaz, clearly unaware of what’s happening behind you. What’s happening behind you.
“Ah, Captain, I thought you’d be in your office?” you cringe at your own voice, the mini panic could probably be heard. Clearing your throat, you glanced behind you before turning back to the two in front of you, trying to drive them away from where the shadowed corner was. 
“He was merely having tea with me, is there a problem?”
You quickly shook your head, silently gulping whatever was stuck in your throat. You inhale sharply before directing them back down the hall, an excuse escapes your lips, though you don’t remember what it was as you nervously giggle with the Captain and Sergeant. Though as you glance back, you see the Lieutenant and other Sergeant staring back at you, no longer hiding in the corner.
What distracted you was the cheeky smirk coming from the Scottish man, even though it was hard to tell, the face of death seemed like he was smiling behind his mask.
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You stare at Ghost in front of you, his eyes bouncing back between you and Johnny, his words were nothing but gibberish as he shouts at the both of you, what shocked you was the accent that followed the sweet cursed words. The accent that flowed through him was strong and distinct? Spanish, you would’ve guessed, though some of his British accent would fight back into the mix, making your brows furrowed in confusion.
“Simon, do you not remember us?” Johnny lower his voice, soften it a bit, show that both of you are not hostile.
Ghost’s body stops struggling, his eyes landing on Johnny, his brow raising up in confusion before glancing at you. His voice was different, not just the accent switch, but it was softer, showed more vulnerability or emotions.
“Who is this ‘Simon’? I am,” he pauses before jerking Johnny off his back, landing him on the sand before breaking away from his restraints before quickly climbing up a tree, standing on the poor branch that struggled to carry his weight. Ghost? Props his hands on his waist as he stands in a heroic pose. “Simone!”
Johnny walks towards your side, dusting off the sand that caught onto his clothes. Your eyes deadpan at the ‘creative’ name that Ghost? Simon? Simone? Whatever his name was, the feeling of dread hits you as you realise that Ghost could probably have a concussion or memory loss. Though the way he acts, it could be memory loss… or something worse?
“Get down from there!” you yell at him. The Brit, swinging down ‘gracefully’, well, he tried to slide down the branch to only trip and faceplant into the sand before gathering himself up and do the hero stance again, pretending like nothing had happened and that he totally nailed the landing. Your eyes twitch. Already you know this is going to be another burden that you’re going to carry but in all honesty, you were more concerned for Johnny’s mental health, your eyes chasing after his reaction, your head turning.
“Simon…”
“It’s Simone!”
“Simone… Simon, whatever, do you not remember me?” you could hear the slight crack coming from Johnny’s throat, your eyes focusing on his facial features.
His brows were wrinkled together, his eyes no longer dilated when he first saw that Ghost was alive, his smile no longer plastered on his face, his arms wrapped around him though the hug wasn’t exactly comforting, his hands were scratching at his muscles and his body was tense in general. He was heartbroken that Ghost couldn’t remember him but he was glad at the same time that he was alive, a reminder and hope that the others could be alive… maybe in the same state as Ghost, but it was better than nothing.
The silence that surrounds both Ghost and Johnny felt surreal. The two always had something to say to one another, banter and flirtatious remarks that were subtle but enough to blind the people around them, you felt bad for Johnny. 
They never have established their relationship to you but you know that behind closed doors or in small moments, they were something more than friends, not after the time that you had caught both of them. Words that meant more than friends could give to one another, the words you give to someone who you would give this world for, whispers that you’d share after intimate activities.
“No, I don’t.”
A shaky breath left Johnny’s lungs, a soft, quiet whimper left his throat as he stared at Ghost in front of him as if he was a stranger and at this moment, he was.
Your hand found its way to Johnny’s back, making him flinch as he snapped out of his trance, looking away from Ghost before looking down at you. It wasn’t the best moment but you needed to distract his mind from the pain, reminding that you both had a goal, your tasks. Johnny wanted to be mad at you for mentioning work but he knew he needed the distraction, not wanting to interact with ‘Simone’, he brushes past against Ghost, his shoulder roughly pushing past his. Johnny knew it was wrong to be angry at him but he was in pain emotionally. 
After marching off further from the group, Johnny goes round the boulder to blow off some steam, he lets out a heavy huff. His hands ruffled his mohawk in frustration, tugging at it as he cursed in his native tongue, kicking shells and stones that laid on the beach or stray branches that were scattered across the edge of the jungle. 
It hurts to breathe, hurts to think, hurts to feel. 
Johnny’s mind wasn’t clear, negative thoughts derailing him off into a dark place that he rarely goes. 
The self doubt, hatred and anger of letting something happen to his partner, Ghost, no, Simon was no longer Simon and the thought alone forces a hick from Johnny’s throat, whimpering and mourning over his once-was lover. A couple of weeks on this island, the constant worry for his lovers and he’s lost one to the island, islands? It doesn’t matter. Johnny wholeheartedly believes that he should’ve gone with Simon, should’ve landed with him, should’ve been with him throughout this entire thing and maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t have happened to Simon. Though the thoughts of leaving you alone irked him just as much, his mind was in a battle of possibilities.
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‘Simone’ sat across from you, his sienna eyes bore into yours as if trying to lure out who you were underneath all those layers, knowing eyes that you never saw in your Lieutenant before making you feel uneasy. A curious animal that was wary of the dangers that you held, his brows furrowing, concentrating your facial features, any twinge of emotion has him still and on-edge, though you try to give none. The silence between the two of you was nothing but uncomfortable, well for you mainly since his body towered over yours.
You had brought him to where you and Johnny had camped, weaving more baskets as you, now how half of your members back - 2.5 members back since Ghost wasn’t himself. The callous, detached Lieutenant now looking at you as if you were a stranger all over again, though you weren’t close enough with Ghost to see Simon, poor Johnny, you think to yourself. The Sergeant that you’ve come to know these weeks being stranded, now grown distant, not with you but the person he loved whole-heartedly. He had been avoiding ‘Simone’ for half of the day, busying himself with going to the jungle and collecting more supplies to travel to the next island, it pained you watching the two. 
It felt like that one anime movie you watched, near to the end as the lovers get parted from each other’s worlds so close and yet so far from each other’s reach before one disappears, the end, where the two lovers finally reunited but as fate would have it - they don’t remember each other, asking each others name.
The pity you felt towards Johnny and Ghost was immense.
You’ve never experienced what they’re going through but seeing the way they looked at one another before back at the base, you’ve seen those longing and loving gazes that they hide, secret lovers behind closed doors - it made you feel giddy sometimes wondering how it would be to one of their shoes, loving someone, to fight for someone, to be someone’s anything. Envy, you envied it, perhaps it’s the reason why you hallucinated thinking that they stared at you that way. A sigh leaves your lips forgetting Simone was next to you.
His hand grazes your right cheek making you jolt, turning your head to face him in shock and confusion, explaining his actions. Though as you turn your head, you see that his index finger was wet, confusion plastered on your face before touching your own cheek - you were crying. Why?
“Hey bonnie, I got more-” Johnny stopped in his tracks as he saw the tears that escaped your eyes, Simone being the only candidate that was near you, only assuming what had happened. 
He marched over before shoo-ing off Simone, yelling profanities and other words that were in his dialect, the tears that weld up in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by you - he was hurting. Your hand touches his, to bring him back to Earth, an imminent frown on your lips and your brows crinkle, his eyes landing on you. His navy-blue eyes softening when looking at yours, his breathing slowly becoming erratic as he slowly descends next to you on his heels, his arms gradually wrapping around you, finally letting the water-works break free.
“That’s not Simon,” his voice cracks saying his partner’s name. “I should’ve been there.”
Your hand circles his back, comforting him as he wept in between your shoulder and neck. A slight sting ached pierced through your chest, remembering what happened on day one, Johnny had saved you. Without him helping you out of your panicked state, you would’ve gone up in flames along with the helicopter, the blazing inferno that led to the separation of the team and yet when Johnny’s words infiltrate your mind, you wonder if it was best to be left there. Your grip on Johnny’s back unconsciously tightens at the thought. If you had been more wary, if you hadn’t frozen on the spot, perhaps they would’ve been together - surviving, getting the team quicker - you stay silent, sobs being held back down. You shouldn’t feel this way you think to yourself, Johnny is the one suffering, not you.
“I should’ve been there, Bonnie,” it stings more than the last, your strokes becoming more stiff. “But I couldn’t leave ye behind, I care about you too.”
Your movement stopped, the Scottsman not noticing as he continued to weep into your shoulder, his grip slowly tightening around you once he spoke. You hoped that Johnny didn’t hear your heart picking up its pace. Sure, Johnny had invited you out for drinks with the team. Sure, he would help you with paperwork during tough nights. Sure, he would cover your back not just with his gun but blankets too, but that’s what teammates do - it’s normal. The team was like that, always hovering over you, it was nothing more, though… Johnny’s words-
You resume your hand movement, circling it round Johnny’s back as you turn your head where Simone had run off to. You see him with Dexter, both of them fiddling with the fruits, picking at the ones that insects have dug themselves into. 
The dryness in your throat stung, it felt weird for you to be comforting Johnny like this, you weren’t supposed to be close like this, it felt like you were taking Johnny away from Simon, separating them with his memory loss. But you had to be there for Johnny, be there for him till Ghost or Simon returned to his side and then you could put distance again. You weren’t supposed to be here, not in Johnny’s arms, not in between them, not with the 141. A lament that you accepted during your years with them that you weren’t going to be accepted as it was, the hovering showing you that they think less of you, beckoning as if you were a fragile flower that got blown by the wind, years of acceptance that you’ll never be recognised of your own potential or perhaps you were always turning your back or head a little too early to see them look at you with such apprehension and reverence.
You sit there holding Johnny in your arms as you agonise with the Scott in your arms, two persecuted eyes staring at a distant glance at the negligent Lieutenant, an opposite of who he was once, playing with the newly found monkey friend.
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A/N: *whistles innocently* Technically- I'm allowed, I got sick-
Taglist(s): @chickennn-soupp, @scarletdfox, @rafaelacallinybbay, @the-faceless-bride, @kariiiel, @kaoyamamegami, @justyourfriendlyneighbourhood1
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cod-dump · 5 months
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Soap: One time I was making out with Ghost and at one point it felt like he was trying to eat my face
Gaz: He likes to bite
Soap: I- *stares*
Gaz: … what?
Soap, firmly: Have you kissed him before?
Gaz: Who hasn’t kissed Ghost?
Soap: *gasps*
Gaz: Don’t act surprised! He made out with Alejandro last time we were in Las Almas
Soap: IS THAT WHAT THEY WERE DOING?!
Price, passing by: You’re not very observant, are you sergeant?
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lovifie · 1 month
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Lift Me Off My Feet Pt.6
Masterlist
Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6
W: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, a bit of angst before the nasties ❤️
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The good thing about the three of you doing the walk of shame together is that at least you are not the one who got it worse. Price is walking like he just came of the confessional, not a sin committed in his life; you look like you should, like you just got fucked nicely but nothing a couple of minutes laying down can't help you disguise and Gaz… poor Gaz look a bit destroyed, but he carries himself with a certain attitude that makes you think: “Good for him.” and it helps him look confident if it wasn't for a weak limp as he walks. And if you are able to tell, you are sure the rest of them can as well.
“Pay up, Johnny.” Ghost says extending his hand to Soap as they sit on the sofa. 
“Fuckin’ he'll, Gaz.” Soap answers, taking his wallet from his back pocket and dropping a £20 on Ghost's hands. 
“You made a bet?” You ask curious sitting on the floor getting your legs under the table, Ghost and Soap are sitting on the sofa, Price sits down on the armchair and Gaz sits on the armrest of the sofa.
“Yeah, about who would break the truce first.” Soap explains and turns to look at Gaz. “I thought you were stronger than this, mate.”
“What truce?” You ask, sending Ghost a quick glance to ask him to play along. He doesn't say anything. 
A beat of silence goes around the room, everyone expecting the other to talk. It is Price that breaks it clearing his throat. “Right, I'll explain it. We talked about you, about how we have been treating you and about how it shouldn't have happened.” 
Your stomach turns at the confession, and a voice screams in your head: “I told you, idiot! Giving yourself like a whore on sale! Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!” You hide your hands between your thighs to hide the shaking and swallow the spit pooling in your mouth. 
“Not like that.” A warm hand on the top of your head brings you back. “Try again, Captain. So many ways to phrase it, and you choose the worst.” Ghost says 
Price rubs a hand against his face, exasperated with himself. “What I meant was… that we don't regret what we have done, we regret the way we have done it. Yeah?”
And it reaches your ears, but it doesn't get to your brain. Since the whole ordeal began, the cruel voice in your head that doesn't let you enjoy things has been scratching the walls of your head to try and make you focus on her and let her plant the seed of self-doubt in you. But you pushed her back, and the kisses and caressing of the men in front of you helped greatly. It was like seeing a shadow from the corner of your eyes, but when you turn your head it disappears; but now, hearing from Price that it shouldn't have happened, even if he was just a poor choice of words, it has made you turn your head to your shadow but this time it hasn't disappeared. Instead, it's looking at you and laughing at your face for being stupid. 
“You alright, birdie?” Ghost brushes your hair behind your ear, keeping his hand cupping your jaw and turning your face to look at him. Concern floods his eyes, eyebrows furrowed, but doesn't push it when you nod at him. 
“What we wanted to do, was do the things that we should have done before we got freaky.” Soaps continue. “Go on dates, expend time together… get to know ye. Those things.”
It only fuels your confusion. “What?” You ask looking at Price. “Dates?”
“You… you don't want to?” He asks mirroring your confusion.
“Do I have a say?” You ask, genially confused. And to you, you mean it as in “Do I have the power to choose between offers? Do I have the power to ask for you? Do I deserve more than crumbs of attention and respect?” But to them, it sounds like: “Do I have that power?”, you know, as if you haven’t gotten under their skin and you couldn't move them like puppets at your will and want. 
“I don't understand.” You mumble rubbing your face, eyes burning with tears.
“What it is?” Gaz asks sitting straight, focusing on you. 
“Why?!” You ask a bit louder that wanted. “Why me? Why do you care about me? Because I can understand that I threw myself at you and to never look a gift horse in the mouth, but what I can’t understand is why you would go out of our fucking lane to worry about the fucking shitty horse!”
The tears are flowing freely down your face by now, and you realise that they are all looking at you with expressions you can't read. You have cried in front of them before, but it was out of fear for your life, you are fine with that. But letting them see you cry because you are an idiot that caught feelings? Nah, that's too much. “I'm sorry, I… I need a moment.” You stand up, managing to get out without any of them catching your hand and lock yourself in the bathroom, in the little space between the sink and the bathtub. 
You cry your feelings out, wanting to just dry yourself out before going out, but Ghost beats you to it and knocks on the door. “Can I come in, birdie?”
“The lock doesn't work.” You mumble between sobs.
“I know, that's why I'm asking.” He says, he cracks the door open slowly and sticks his head in looking at you. “Can I come in?”
You nod, and he enters closing the door behind him. He lifts you up from your hands making you whine like a child, sits down where you were and sits you on his lap. “You got a thing for tiny spaces.” 
The TONK sound of Ghost hitting his head on the sink following the curse words makes you chuckle at the ridicule of the situation. Ghost finally settles down, and he cups your face making you lay your head on his chest. 
“What has you so upset, birdie? What is making you so sad?” He asks, the rumble of his voice travelling through your body.
You shrug your shoulders. “I just don't get it… why me?”
“I don't know, birdie… you just are.” He says caressing your face. “I can't explain it, it's just… you. We have been trained and forced to be methodical, use logic, don't get carried away by emotions, years and years of training. And now you are here, and we don't know how to act.”
You bury your face in his chest, taking in the new information, but without interrupting him. “When we entered your flat, Price saw the chair on the balcony and he almost jumped head first just to check if you were on the ground. Gaz has gone against Price's direct orders, and trust me, Gaz would rather cut his own arm than go against Price… Birdie, I'm not going to call it love and act like I know how that works. But don't bury the corpse without killing it first.”
You look up to him, and find him already looking down at you. He gives you a kiss on your forehead through the mask and asks: “Give us a chance, birdie. Please. We are all adults, we'll talk about it. Set bases and rules so everyone is happy and comfortable. But you need to let us try. Only once, birdie. That's all we need.”
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Simon's words enter your head, finding the idiot voice that lives inside and slapping her across the face. After a while, you no longer have the need to cry, and even though you are elated by Ghost's comfort, it is not fair to the three men seating in the living room.
You stand up first, Ghost's hand on your back. You grab his hand to help him stand and put the other hand on the edge of the sink so he doesn't hit it again, earning yourself a chuckle from him. 
Soap is the first to see you, sitting with Gaz on the sofa. Price is still in the armchair, smoking a cigar. You walk up to him, picking the cigar from his hand and letting it down on the ashtray. You sit on the armrest of the chair, putting your deets on his lap and your hands between your thighs. 
He looks up to you almost holding your breath, like the next thing that you will say could seal or break the deal. “You don't regret meeting me, right, John?”
His face twitches, as if you had just slapped him across the face, and he quickly shakes his head bringing his arm up around you to move you to his lap keeping you close. “No, dear, no. I could never regret meeting you, I'm sorry I said it like that, I promise I'm not usually such a muppet.” 
“I wanna give it a try.” You say and look up to him. “But I'm scared.”
“You don't need to be, what's scaring you?” He ask looking at your face.
“You don't know me… what if once you get to know me, you don't like what you learn? If you get bored? Or disgusted…” You mumble, talking more and more softly as you bury your face on his neck.
“Now you are just talking nonsense, love.” Price says, cupping your face and peeling your face away from his neck. “And you are thinking too highly of us, what if you are the one who doesn't like us?”
“That's not-” You begin to say, ready to argue that it is not possible to not like them, that they look like they have come out of a firefighter calendar, that they have been nothing but kind and caring with you, that if you found something about them you didn't like it would most likely to bother you enough to break away. But you look at his face, and he has this know-it-all expression that quiets you up. 
“Exactly, love.” He says and lets you hide your face again. You sigh, tired of your feelings and start to stand up. “I'm gonna have a shower.”
“Wait!” Soap says standing up quickly and sprinting to the kitchen, coming back out with different kinds of shampoo and body skin care products. “How about a bath? A bubble bath?” He asks, happy to cheer you up and to have an excuse to mess around with the different liquid. 
You nod quickly smiling widely and watch him run to the bath. Price calls your attention with a tap on your lower back and explains: “Gaz and I need to go back to base, Ghost and Soap will stay with you tonight, that's fine with you?”
You nod again, saying goodbye to both of them, feeling too awkward to hug them because of the newly exposed feeling even if just an hour ago they were balls deep inside you. You run to the bathroom when Soap calls your name.
“Quickly, bonnie. Get in before it goes cold.” He says, satisfied with the sweet smell and bubbly water. “Do you need anything else?”
“Actually, can you lend me some more clothes? I'm pretty sure I have run out of clean clothes and underwear.” You admit, looking a bit ashamed.
“Sure, I'll bring ye some of mine. I'm sure ye'll fill in my knickers just fine with that fine arse of yers.” He mumbles in your ears, earning himself a slap on his biceps as he exits the bathroom to pick up the clothes. He drops them by a little later and lets you to enjoy your bath.
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The bath truly helps you relax, of the tightness in your muscles and of the exhausting feelings in your head. It also leaves you room to think about them, to rationalize them. Simon is right, you cannot say no just because you are scared it may not work out in the end, not without trying first.
After some time, the water starts to get cold, so you drain the tub and grab the towel to dry yourself. You look at the clothes that Soap lend you, and realise he only left his briefs and a t-shirt; cheeky bastard. 
As you open the door, the smell of food floats around the whole house and it makes your stomach rumble. Ghost and Soap must be making dinner. So you walk down the hall, entering the kitchen without thinking.
And part of you blames you for it, but another part is really glad you didn't.
Johnny is on his knees, in front of Ghost, getting his mouth fucked by the late one. The wet sounds of Johnny gagging around Ghost’s dick as it hits the back of his throat almost hide the sound of your steps, but not good enough fot Ghost.
“Hi, Birdie.” He groans, caressing Johnny head in such a tender way it clashes with the filthy image. “Are you hungry? Johnny here couldn't wait for dinner.”
“I can see…” You mumble back looking at Soap, unable to peel you away. You are glad you just got out of the tub, being able to attribute your blush to the heat of the bathroom. Still, no bath can explain the way you clench your thighs together, and Ghost chuckles when he notices.
“C’mere, birdie.” He instructs, extending his hand to you. You grab it, feeling him pull you close; his hand moves to your waist, cupping your face with the other. “I really want to kiss you right now, pretty bird”
And you know what he is asking for, to break the truce; because if you initiate it, he is technically not breaking it. And it is cruel, especially to Price that you know is going to be the last one to break it, but right now, with Ghost mask up to his nose and Johnny chocking on his dick, your mind is busy. 
You get on your tip toes, urging Ghost to bend down and he gives you a quick peck on your lips. Just to seal the deal, before he pulls your head from the back of your head making you open your mouth to groan and he gets his tongue inside your mouth, turning the groan into a moan. 
It is such a filthy kiss, its only fitting for a filthy situation that you just yourself into. 
Johnny doesn't last before calling for your attention, but he doesn't call you, instead, he pulls your leg between his and starts humping his leaking dick against you. It makes you look down breaking the kiss and making Ghost look down as well, he chuckles seeing the Scotsman so desperate and grabs a handful on his mohawk making him let go of his dick with a POP sound. “Don't fuck her leg, you fucking mutt” Johnny whines when he grips his hair harder and Ghost looks up to you. You can see the gears spinning inside his head when he looks from you to Soap, both grabbed by the hair, and you are not really surprised when he says. “Get on your knees for me, birdie.”
When you drop to your knees, Ghost pushes you and Soap’s head closer to each other and Soap bites your mouth kissing you as he devours your lips. His knee on the ground is against your cunt, and when he flexes closer to you it makes you moan inside his mouth.
Soon, Soap’s tongue is not the only thing in your mouth and you feel something blunt nudge at the side of your lips. You pull apart an inch, opening your eyes, just in time to see Ghost’s dick slide between Soaps and your mouth. Both tongues getting tangled around his already wet length, Ghost moans without letting go of both of your head. Soap hands find their way to your waist, and start to help you grind yourself against his tigh. 
“She is going to ruin your underwear, Johnny.” Ghost manages to say between grunts and moans. “Better to help her take them off.”
Big hands grab you from under your arms hoisting you up, Ghost holds you against his chest with your back pressed to him and Soap helps you take off your underwear. Just when you are naked from the waist down, you feel Ghost slip his dick between your folds, rubbing your clit on his way forward. His red tips stick out from between your legs, and you can almost feel Soap mouth water and the sight of both your crotch together. “C’mon, Johnny, I didn't tell you to stop sucking.”
Johnny’s tongue is warm against your skin, and for a second when you look down, all you see is Ghost fucking Soap’s mouth through you. Until Ghost begins to thrust, and his tip keeps nudging at your clit and if it is not his tip it’s Soap's tongue running side to side on it. 
Ghost is still hugging you from behind, his face now hidden in your neck moaning little words that don't make sense, you grab his arms trying to keep yourself steady, you can barely reach the floor having to be on your tiptoes on top of Ghost's feet. 
The mix of it all, feeling almost like a fleshlight by Ghost, Soap moaning and gagging so close to your clit and Ghost’s dick rubbing again and again against your clit, has you cumming embarrassedly quickly. And if it wasn't for the way Ghost moans against your neck when you clench your thighs together, pulling Soap’s hair again to keep him from sucking him, basically edging himself not to cum yet, you would be embarrassed. Instead, you are almost ready to cum again in mere seconds.
“It looks like Johnny is a bit needy right now, doll. Do you wanna sit on his dick, hm? Suck my dick while you do? Johnny has been talking nonstop about that little mouth of yours, birdie. Been driving me crazy.” He says as he kisses your neck, leaving it wet with his spit as he barely manages to speak properly. 
Soaps, still on his knees, sits on his feet, cock free and ready for you to sit on it. You hoist his lap, getting your knees on the floor sided to his forcing you to spread your legs. You rest your hands on his knees as you lower yourself, and moan in tandem with Soap once he is completely seated. 
Ghost grabs your hands, almost picking you up, and moves them to his thighs to allow you to support yourself. Soaps begin to move, slowly, letting you get adjusted to the stretch, as he begins to fuck you almost doggy style. It pushes you forward, and you moan against Ghost’s dick making him shudder.
You start to kiss his tip, soon getting your lips around it earning a moan of your name from Ghost. He caresses your head, brushing your hair away from your face. Soap grabs your waist, helping himself fuck you faster, skin slapping against your ass making you moan as you suck Ghost’s dick.
It is almost as thick as Soap's, but it's the way it hits your throats that makes the difference. Tears prick at your eyes, slowly falling down your cheeks, and when Ghost sees them he coos at you as he smears them on your cheek with his thumb.
You can see his half-open mouth thanks to his mask being risen, and you clench your cunt when you see him bite his lips to keep his moans from spilling out. Soap hugs you from behind, bitting your shoulder and begins to piston in and out of you. His hand goes south, rubbing at your clit and you grab Ghost’s thigh sticking your nails in making him hiss almost like a moan. 
“I'm gonna cum all over your pretty face, hm? Painted like a canvas, love.” He groans grabbing your hair. “While Johnny paints you inside, all ours, inside and out, love. Our little birds, all ours.”  He keeps mumbling, taking his dick out to jack it off in front of your face. 
You stick your tongue out while looking at him, and moan when Johnny change his speed, becoming sloppy and switching the speed with slower but deeper thrusts. He moans against your shoulder, biting again hard and that's enough to send you over the edge. Johnny and Ghost following you as if they were waiting for you. 
Ghost spents end up mostly in your mouth, but you feel the hot spurts settle on your face making you close your eyes. Soap sits down, stretching his legs, and he pulls you with him, softening your dick still inside of you. 
“I wish I could send Price a picture right now” Ghost says chuckling looking down at the both of you who chuckle too with difficulty to breath.
“I think… I think we should go shower again, bonnie.” Soaps says behind you, and you can only agree. 
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Once cleaned, the three of you sit around the sofa ready to have dinner, quite delicious and gracefully, not burnt. 
“So, bonnie, ye wanna go on date?” Soap asks with his mouth full.
“I was gonna ask first, was swallowing my food.” Ghost says, almost scolding him.
“Actually… I thought about it, and I think I want to go on a date with…
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Hii, how are you?!
The next chapter is your choice, bam, bam, baaaammm!!
Let me know if there is any kind of date or anything like that that you would like to happen, hehe.
Also, just an explanation in case anyone was confused. As I said, English is not my first language, which means I don't really know many idioms in English, and that plus the fact that when I can remember how they are I just make up my own, sometimes they lack some sense 🤣.
When in this chapter Ghost says: "But don't bury the corpse without killing it first." I was thinking about the phrase "to sell the bear's skin before catching it", but that one is actually the opposite, it is when you are a bit too optimistic about how things are going to play out. So I don't know how I ended up writing the corpse one, and then I remember the fact that Ghost was buried alive and it just... in my mind it made sense.
Sorry if it doesn't 💗
As always, thank you so much for reading and for commenting, love youu ❤️🌸
Taglist: @pagesfalling @thevoidwriting @darkangel4121 @tf141glory @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @ghostlythots @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra @xinyiline @shadowtfpcod @infpt-zylith@renabear88@lolliepopsicle @reap3erslov3 @tooloudarts @dontworryboutitokie @cassiecasluciluce @sodavrr @missmidnight-writes @anirok2 @lilliumrorum @ladyxtiger @multy-fandom-lover @thriving-n-jiving @lotionlamp @spicyspicyliving @xxeiraxx @vampirekilmerfic @keiraslayz
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gaycragula · 1 year
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hii! saw your post so im here to request some fluff :3 how about some sleepy morning cuddles w poly soapghost x m!reader?? thank you!
Warmth of the Sun and a Ghost
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Pairing: Poly!SoapGhost x Male Reader Word Count: 550 Masterlist
The sun pouring through the curtains forced you out of your sleep. You groaned, trying to force your face further into the back of the neck of the man in front of you, arms squeezing around his waist tighter than they were before. You heard a mirrored groan from in front of you and an annoyed sigh followed.
“Would you two let me up?” Ghost grumbles. He’d been stuck in between yourself and Soap last night. You got to sleep behind him, wrapped against his body while Soap nestled under Ghost’s chin. It was a strange position for him to be in, since he was generally the first one up out of the three of you while yourself and Soap liked to stay in bed for just a moment longer. 
“C’mon, Si. Give us a few more minutes,” Soap’s voice was muffled as he buried his face back into the front of Ghost’s neck. “Yer warm.”
Ghost huffed but didn’t try to move to get out from in between the two of you. You pressed your lips against the back of Ghost’s neck, pressing a short kiss to it. “Do you want up?” You ask, ignoring the whine of protest Soap gave.
You heard Ghost let out another breath before me mumbled out a no. He felt you smile against the back of his neck and Soap smirk against the front of it. A grumble vibrated in his throat as you and Soap wrapped back around him. 
Soap was right, Ghost was warm. He felt like a furnace even through the fabric of his shirt. It was something you'd grown to adore and on cold nights, you found yourself almost engulfing the man in bed.
Your hand slipped under the tshirt Ghost was wearing to rest on his skin. You heard him sigh quietly as you rubbed into the skin just above his hip. “Johnny’s right,” you murmur, slipping your hand over his side to rest on his stomach. “You’re warm.”
Soap’s hand joined yours on Ghost’s tummy and you heard his giggle catch in his throat. Ghost’s tummy twitched under your fingers and he let out a sigh when you trailed it further up his shirt to rest on his chest. Soap wrapped his arm around Ghost’s waist to rest his hand on the lieutenant’s back  with a quiet hum of content. 
You’d be hard pressed to get Ghost to admit he enjoyed being squished between both of his two boyfriends. He loved having you pressed against his back, your legs tangled with his and your arm wrapped around his waist. Loved feeling Soap curled up against his front, hands fisted into Ghost’s shirt with his head tucked comfortably under the man’s chin. 
Ghost let out a quiet breath as you peppered soft kisses along the back of his neck before he rolled over enough to press a few short kisses to your lips with a low hum. When Ghost pulled back, Soap sat up to kiss you, cupping your face to bring you closer to him.
These lazy mornings were rare, even rarer for Ghost to stay with the both of you. The three of you let the early morning sun warm your bodies for a long while, simply enjoying the presence of the other two in bed. 
742 notes · View notes
sprout-fics · 9 months
Text
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Tag, You're It: Part One (Unrevised)
(Poly 141 x F! Reader) 18+
Masterlist
Rating: Explicit, 18+ WordCount: 5.2k Tags: F! Reader, Minors DNI, SoapGhost, Restraints, Chase/Takedown, Hunter/Prey, PiV sex, Oral sex (M receiving), Vaginal fingering, Dirty talk, Consent checks, Spitroasting, MMF, Aftercare Warnings: N/A A/N: This chapter has been revised to reflect changes in line with the rest of the story. Please see the masterlist for the updated version
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It’s Johnny who finds you first, naturally. 
The team spends most of the day making you wait. You had found a hiding spot before sunrise, brought along a small pack of supplies and some things to keep you occupied while you waited for someone to find you, for the chase to truly begin. Yet by mid-morning you were bored, and by noon you were practically groaning in frustration, considering using your phone to drop hints so they would just get on with it.
So you decide to take things into your own hands.
You begin darting between safe zones, checking your corners, making sure to watch your six, eyes keen and trained for threats. This little game of yours had specific zones on base mapped out to avoid at different times during the day, forcing you to adapt to your environment constantly to avoid curious stares from other soldiers and recruits. 
It’s fun, the thrill and anticipation has you feeling a bit like a little kid all over again, giggling into your hands as someone bypasses your hiding spot. Yet the thrill is only doubled by the knowledge of the consequences of you being found.
You realize too late that this new method of yours is exactly what the team has been waiting for.
You get sloppy. You’re looking over your shoulder when you round a corner at the edge of the armory in the light of mid-afternoon, halting mid step when you spot a familiar figure peeking around the opposite side of the building. 
Shit.
You double back quickly, but it’s too late, because the Scot barks a delighted little laugh, calls after you as he gives chase. His footsteps are slow, purposeful, and for a moment you’re reminded of the villains in horror movies that seem to walk so damn slow and seem to inevitably catch up with their victims. It should terrify you, but instead it makes something in your stomach twist with exhilaration.
You manage to draw him to one of the empty supply warehouses at the edge of the base, skidding inside and diving into a smaller hiding spot hidden into the shadows. Yet Soap has clearly seen you at least enter the building, because in the distance you can hear his footsteps echo against the concrete floor, glass breaking under his boots.
“Ohh songbird…”
You feel your heart hammer against the cage of your ribs, hands planted across your face to prevent even a single sound from escaping at the tenor of Johnny’s voice floating through the unused warehouse, sing-song, teasing, hungry.
There’s a light flickering in the aisles of upended crates and empty boxes, and the intermittent brightness manages to catch against the whites of your eyes. The flickering dimness of this space seems to only add to the rapid thump of your heartbeat, muscles coiled in preparation to run, to flee should you be discovered.
“I know you’re in here.” Soap taunts, and you can hear the clear excitement in his voice despite the fact that he’s trying to play into the persona of an enemy- tracking you down, taking you what he wants, only to set you free once more.
He’s close, you realize as his boots thud down the end of the hallway. Too close. You can hear his footsteps from where you press yourself inside the shadows of a doorway, his heavy boots a purposeful, slow echo throughout the empty space. It’s almost like he wants you to know exactly where he is, advertises his presence with every noise. What his strategy is, you aren’t sure, but you’re certain that if he gets any close he’ll find you for sure, claim his prize through the price of your flesh, your pleasure.
“Come out come out, wherever ye are…” He chuckles, and you rise slowly from where you crouch, tip-toe to the door and see the profile of him vanish just beyond the edge of the hallway. It gives you the chance you need, and you quickly but quietly move down the other direction, keeping eyes on where he’s disappeared to. 
Yet then your foot crunches against something fragile and you freeze, hear his pleased little noise of realization a split second before you bolt, shoes hitting the floor harshly as you sprint away from the sound of his pursuit. 
“There you are!” Johnny calls gleefully from behind you, and Christ- how did he close the distance so fast?! You can see the blur of him in the periphery of your gaze, the blue of his favorite shirt a mere blob of color as you race away from him, heart in your throat.
You did promise to not make it easy, after all. 
You skid around the next corner, nearly stumble, and launch yourself forward past a darkened doorway yawning into a pitch black room-
Before you realize your mistake a moment too late.
Skeletal hands reach out, snatch you mid-step and drag you backwards into the broad plane of a chest. You yell from behind the gloved palm covering your mouth, adrenaline spiking in your blood and trying to thrash away from Ghost as he hauls you further into the darkness. 
“Caught you.” He murmurs in your ear as your hands are dragged behind you, back flush with the rigid surface of his front. It sends a jolt of something through you, dark and thrilling as he overwhelms you with his adamantium strength, smears charcoal across the inside of your skull with his mere presence. You thrash in his grip, trying to actually put effort in even though you’ve not once dislodged him in all the time you’ve spent in his hold. Exhilaration squirms breathlessly in your chest, bright and electric with every gasping breath.
It only grows when the zip-ties fasten around your wrists, and you again try to wiggle free with no success. 
“You’re a fast little bugger.” Johnny pants as he catches up, leans on the doorway, his gloved fist planted on the frame. Yet his eyes dance with delight as he witnesses you caught in Ghost’s grasp, dragging his lip between his teeth at the conflict of outrage and desire in your gaze. 
“Hells bells.” The Scotsman breathes, and he steps forward, his hand falling to the noticeable bulge in his pants, which he idly strokes through his pants. You hadn’t even noticed, and realize belatedly that the thrill of the chase must affect him just as much.
Yet then his eyes catch that of Ghost’s behind you and he grins, untamed and starved. 
“Teamwork makes the dream work, eh LT?”
Of course. He chased you here on purpose, pursued you right into a trap. Right into Ghost. Working in tandem as they always do, sharing twice the reward with you, and with each other.
You fuckers.
“Get in here Johnny.” Ghost offers instead to Soap’s quip, and you clamp your thighs together as his hand abruptly descends into your pants, your wetness soaking through his gloved fingertips. You make a little sound of protest, trying to buck his hand away, only for a thick thigh to wedge between your legs and force them open.
“Looks like our pet likes to be chased.” Ghost observes idly, and if you didn’t know him better you’d swear he sounds detached, playing the villain all too well. It only ratchets the excitement inside you higher, and you answer it with a muffled yell that only summons a chuckle from the sergeant before you, now pressing against your front and sandwiching you between the two men. 
“Tough luck, us finding you first.” He tuts, and his hand raises your shirt and presses flat against the softness of your stomach appreciatively, suggestively. “Won’t be much left for Price and Gaz once we’re done with ye, hen.”
You stare defiantly up at him, and it only seems to please Soap, who’s eyes dance bright in the dimness and his fingers rise to tug a nipple under your shirt. It makes you falter for a moment, the sudden sharp sensation making your expression shift into something wanting, a little mewl escaping you at the pleasure that rises inside you between his fingers and Ghost’s digits stroking against your folds. 
“Fuck, we’re going to ruin you.” He promises, and Ghost hums a dark, pleased assent in response. “Fill you up and send you scampering so the others can hunt ye down and have their fun too, aye?”
Ghost presses down firmly on your clit and you mewl, nod frantically in an effort to get them to really touch you, giving into temptation and erasing this farce of pursuit that’s led you here. Ghost notices and huffs a laugh, low and dark in your ear. 
“So needy, pet.” He murmurs, and you shift so you can grind yourself down onto his hand, eyes fluttering as it stokes the pleasure burning inside you. “Didn’t take you long to drop the act, did it?”
Of course it didn’t. That’s the bloody point, and you want to tell him as much, but instead Ghost’s fingers rub a gentle little circle over your clit that makes your knees abruptly weaken. You don’t buckle however, not with the men on either side of you keeping you upright.
“Don’t worry hen, we’ll take care of you.” Soap promises before you can even try to answer, and gently pulls Ghost’s gloved hand away, tilts your head so his lips descend to meet your own. Teasing, he seizes your bottom lip  between his teeth, sucking it before releasing it with a wet little pop. “Just need to ask us for it. Mm?”
You consider escape once more, could draw this out and try to get away even with your hands zip-tied, but between Johnny’s decadent touch and Ghost’s unyielding grasp, you find yourself with few other places you want to be. 
You surrender, gasp out your reply in a wanting sigh that spills across his tongue. 
“Please.”
Soap breathes out in a whoosh, the air tickling your face. His thumb presses down on your bottom lip, and you open your mouth willingly, tongue circling the pad.
He curses.
“Good girl.” Ghost supplies instead with a growl, and the full breadth of his gloved palm presses bare against you, cupping your mound and giving you the smallest indication of friction. You stifle a moan, throw your head back against his chest.
“Nu uh, none of that.” He admonishes, and his other hand slides up to your face, squeezing your cheeks together and twisting you so you gaze up into his shadowed stare that reeks of devastation. “No need to be quiet, pet. Nobody but us can hear you here, so be as loud as you want.”
“Aye.” Soap agrees, and a broad hand reaches down to your back, dragging himself flat against your front so you’re squished between the muscular forms of the two men. “Can’t wait to hear all those pretty noises, sweetheart.”
You squirm a little between them, feeling too warm, too much suddenly with Soap trapping Ghost’s hand in your panties, pressing you up against the soldier so you can feel a poking hardness against your back. Arousal pools between your legs, and you whimper suddenly, baring your neck to them both when Soap rolls his hips forward experimentally. 
“Soap.” Ghost says then, and you feel him nod, watching as Soap follows his gaze to a crate that’s about waist high in the corner of the room. Soap grins.
It takes him a minute for him to wrangle the crate at an appropriate angle away from the wall, making a point to cheekily pat it beckoningly at you. You don’t have time to roll your eyes though, because Ghost forces you forward, making you trip over your feet before your hips collide against it. 
“Down.” He tells you easily, and there’s a hand pressing at the small of your spine, gently ushering you to bend until your cheek is pressed against the surface. Yet that isn’t enough, because his hands hoist your hips just a little higher so you have to balance on your toes, kicking a little for purchase. 
They circle you, like sharks in the water, eyeing the prize of your flesh. Touching hands against your waist, your shoulders, tracing the swell of your ass. Working you up, making you wait, summoning your restraint to snap. Snap it does, because you grit your teeth and bite at them when the touches vanish.
“For fuck’s sake, just get on with it.” You groan.
Ghost chuckles, and a hand braces on your nape, raising you just an inch upwards so you’re forced to see the towering stature of him above you.
“Eager.” He observes. “Demanding words for someone who tried to run away.”
“I can’t run now, you bloody- ah!” You gasp as Soap’s hand cracks down on your ass smartly, making you flinch in surprise. 
“Watch your words, darling.” He croons, sickly sweet. “Otherwise I’m sure LT will find a way to keep your mouth occupied.”
As if that somehow deters you. Instead you lift your gaze up to Ghost once more, summoning wordless defiance in your gaze. Ghost only chuckles, and you watch his other hand rub himself through his pants. The sight alone of his length pushing against his pants is enough for your expression to change, shift into something hungry, eager just as he’s said.
Yet behind you, Soap suddenly yanks your pants and underwear down to your knees, and the sudden air against your bare skin is enough for you to gasp, squirm away from the hands that smoothe over your hips.
There’s a pause between them, and as you look up you see a look exchanged between them before Soap’s voice speaks, softer and attentive.
“Color?” He asks gently, thumbs pressing into the dip of your flesh just above your ass.
You groan with frustration, forcing yourself back so you can feel the bulge of him wedged between your ass cheeks. 
“Green.” You declare. “About as green as a cadet fresh out of boot camp, for fucks sake Johnny.”
Soap ignores you blatantly, talking over your sprawled form to Ghost. “She does have a smart mouth, doesn’t she, LT?”
Ghost makes a little noise of assent, and his hand is unexpectedly sweet, reassuring for a moment as it strokes the edge of your face. 
“We should do something about that, shouldn’t we, Johnny?” He asks darkly, palming himself before that same hand reaches to unfasten his belt. You can feel saliva collect in your mouth as he adjusts, frees himself from his pants. The flushed, thick girth of him has you flick your eyes up to him, pleading silently. Yet the look Ghost offers you is only amused.
“Over.” He states, and you feel Soap seize your hips and lift, twist so you suddenly are on your back, arms pressed under you.
“Oh, much better.” Soap observes as he catches sight of your half-lidded eyes. “Shite, we’re going to have so much fun with ye, pretty girl.”
You squirm a little at that, at being so openly on display for them. With your pants down to your knees, your shirt rucked up past your belly button, you shiver at the little thrill of exposure they give you. Yet then Soap’s hands descend past the soft flesh of your hips, two fingers gathering wetness from your folds and you whine at him, hiss at him once more to hurry the fuck up.
“Quiet.” Ghost declares, voice low but firm, a hand cupping under your head and lifting you so the tip of him grazes against your lips. You don’t wait for him to tell you to open, jaw dropping so he can push just the head of him against you before retreating. Teasing.
You jolt when Soap leans over you, watching intently as Ghost strokes himself just above your face, and pushes a single finger inside you. He groans at the warm heat of you, the little flutter of invitation that greets him.
“Steamin’ Jesus.” He hisses, dragging his finger out, only to push it back in. You arch off the crate, trying to grind yourself down onto him with a little whine. It’s embarrassing how wet you are for them, worked up from the chase, from their words, from their touch alone. “The sight of you, hen” Soap breathes, his hand digging into your thigh to keep you from bucking. “Never seen anything prettier in mah life, I swear.”
You don’t answer, because before you can Ghost once more pops the head of his cock into your mouth before dragging it away once more and you want to curse.
There’s a second finger stroking inside you now, and when Soap crooks his fingers you arch up with a little cry of ‘F-fuck, Johhny!’
“That’s it.” Ghost encourages. “Not such a smart mouth now, is there?”
It’s a little mocking, a little teasing, and yet laced with affection. It melts you at the seams, makes you swallow wetly, looking up at Ghost upside down.
“Please.” You beg, biting back another demand in favor of a plea. “Please Sir, I-I want it. Just- ohh, hmnng-” You teeth your lip as Johnny once more curls his fingers, trying to close your legs for the barest indication of friction, only for the sergeant to plant a firm hand against the soft flesh of your thigh to keep them open.
“Oh, go on LT.” He encourages even as you writhe and whimper on his fingers, trying to force yourself down whilst also trying to rise up towards Ghost’s cock shamelessly. “I think she’s deserves it.”
Ghost hums, and finally, finally allows the head of him to push inside your mouth in earnest this time, gently cupping your head as he guides you down his shaft. You want to thank him, but your breath stutters to nothing as Soap scissors his fingers inside you, stretching your entrance until your back bows off the crate, drawing taut with need. 
Your eyes flutter shut as Ghost gently rocks himself forward until at last the tip of him bumps against the back of your throat before pulling back and setting a gently, rocking rhythm past your lips. 
“If that isnnae the hottest shite I’ve ever seen.” Johnny curses, and he shifts so he grinds the bulge of himself against you through his boxers. “Shame Price and Gaz aren’t here to see.”
“Day’s young.” Ghost remarks, and fuck- the reminder that they plan to just set you loose after this until your caught again has an electric pulse flutter below your stomach, making you clench down on Johnny’s fingers.
“Oh, ye like that?” Johnny breathes, amused. “Ye like being our capture or kill little thing, darlin?”
Yes. Yes- You think feverishly past the size of Ghost’s cock rocking into your mouth in slow, languid thrusts. You want to touch him, want him to reach down to Johnny, to circle your clit. Yet your hands remain fastened behind your back, and the thought of that alone has your legs fall open a little wider. You’re entirely at their mercy, submitting to their touch and whims as they use you as they see fit. You moan around Ghost, the sound vibrating through him and he grunts, holding back a little huff of pleasure. 
“Get on with it, sergeant.” He hisses at Johnny, and you can hear the strain in his voice now, as deeply aroused as you are. You take a little pleasure in that, that you are the one to summon this in him, and belatedly realize the amount of restraint he’s exercising in the act of trying to be careful with you. 
“Mah pleasure, LT.” Soap returns a little breathlessly, and he pulls himself from his boxers so the weight of him smacks against your thigh. You can hear the schlick of him as he gives himself a few strokes, making a point to let his length drag against your stomach teasingly. 
A hand reaches under you, grips your ass as he lifts you to him. Yet as the dull pressure of his cock at your entrance clouds your senses in searing desire, his voice is soft as he reminds you: “Three taps if ye need to stop, hen, y’think you can do that?”
Ghost reluctantly pulls out of your mouth, and you make a point to hollow your cheeks so he slides free with a wet little pop. 
“Yes, yes.” You tell him. “Three taps, please- fuck Johnny, please-”
You’re cut off when Soap guides the first few inches of himself into you, a long, choked groan dropping from the bottom of your chest as the girth of him presses a delicious, wanting fullness into you. “G-God, Johnny-” You pant, chest rising, face warm, sweat beading at your back. “Fuck, Johnny please, please, I want-”
Yet then Ghost has the audacity to hush you, lifting your head and sliding himself back into your mouth once more to muffle any other words you have to say. The salty, briny taste of him floods across your tongue, precum coating your tongue as he presses further, further, until your nose presses up against his pelvis and the thickness of his cock makes your throat spasm around him. 
“Good girl.” He practically snarls, and his other hand raises to trace the slight rise of his girth in your throat. “Fuck.”
Johnny gives you a few more moments to adjust, drawing out and gently pressing himself into you again, a little deeper than before. You force yourself to breathe as Ghost pulls himself from the wet, hot tightness of your throat. A hand descends to your chest, twisting a nipple through your thin shirt and you jump a little under his touch, clenching down on Johnny’s length buried inside you.
“Shite-” He moans, a little high in his throat. “Fuckin stranglin’ mah cock, hen, Christ-”
You huff as Ghost gently pulls back from your throat, and make it a point to flex your muscles and clench down on the stretch of Johnny inside you, if only to hear the keen that escapes from him in response. 
It gives him the indication he wants, because soon he sets a slow, rolling rhythm just as Simon pulls himself almost entirely out of you, a thumb smearing the tears of pleasure beading in the corner of your eyes.
“Doing well for us, pet.” He breathes down at you affectionately. “Think you can handle a little more?”
You nod around him, maybe a little desperately, because your lieutenant chuckles and grazes his knuckles across your cheek before rocking into your mouth a little more insistently, groaning at the way you force yourself to relax around him. “That’s it.” He manages, voice tight. “Good, good girl.”
“Aye, don’t forget about me.” Johnny teases, as he too speeds his thrusts into you, hands dragging you by your hips to greet him. It makes a muffled little whimper escape you, partly silenced by Ghost’s cock as it slides wetly over your tongue. You can only force your mouth wider, eyes rolling back as Johnny thrusts into you, each press of his cock filling you with delicious, addictive pleasure. It weakens across your hips, forces you pliant and open between them as they fill you at both ends, rendering you limp to their pleasure, and to yours. 
You can hear every dragging breath from them both as they begin to use you in full, and you float endlessly in pleasure, unable to tether yourself down as something molten coils tighter in your core with every thrust. Whatever words they say next are lost to you, deafened by the series of choked moans that spill around Ghost’s cock, suffocating your chest in a searing, hot push of air that clouds your senses in warm velvet. 
It’s so much, and you try to catch yourself but you can’t, helpless between them as pleasure winds tighter below your belly. The wet gush of you squelches lewdly around Johnny’s length as he thrusts with firm, precise thrusts inside you, and when he lifts a leg to give himself more access he manages to graze over a perfect, glowing nerve that briefly has you seize against them both, endorphins drowning out all other sensation as electricity races up your spine. 
“Fuck, fuck-” Johnny swears, and you feel yourself twisted so you lay on your side, one ankle slung over his shoulder as his hips slap against yours. Ghost adjusts to the new angle, and with every thrust you can feel him bump against the back of your throat, his voice dropping in a series of low, choked groans as he chases his climax. 
You wish he’d pull back long enough for you to babble senselessly for them, your words an unending mantra of Yes, more, please, good, so good-
You’re going to come, you can feel the inevitability of it winding through your veins, nerves alight with sparkling, glowing desire that burns brighter, hotter between the three of you. It draws closer, closer, and as it does you feel as if you gaze up at a towering wave that threatens to crash over your head. It shadows your senses and you try to climb upwards as it crest so you don’t drown-
Yet then Soap presses a thumb down on your clit and you sob at the sudden intensity of the pleasure right as your orgasm breaks over you, drawing you down into an endless tumult of sensation. Distantly, you can feel your walls spasm around Soap’s cock, your entire body going rigid as you suck in a breath against the urgent swell of pressure that releases from your core and floods through every fiber of your taut muscles. 
You hear Soap whimper.
The sound must do something to Ghost, because suddenly he’s grabbing his sergeant’s shirt and dragging him closer, rucking the mask up to his nose so he can press a sloppy kiss against Soap’s parted, panting lips. 
You feel Soap’s hips stutter as the aftershocks of your orgasm begin to pulse through you, and he presses himself flush with your hips before a silky wet warmth spills deep inside you. The groan that pours from his lips is only swallowed by the lieutenant in front of him as Ghost shifts to pull himself past your lips. 
Simon releases Johnny, and as you heave and gasp for air, shuddering as your orgasm begins to recede, he fists his cock over your face, the shine of your spit glistening against the flushed width of him. He plants a fist next to your head, bracing as his hips buck forward into his grasp, eyes scrunched shut in pleasure before his cock twitches, cum squirting across your face and fluttered gaze. 
Johnny leans over you, thrusting a few shallow, slow jerks into you as the clench of you milks him dry. His chest heaves, arms shuddering with the force of his orgasm as he slowly gathers breath. 
“Y’good, sweetheart?” He gasps after a few moments, and it takes a few extra to offer him a nod, head drooping with the sudden dearth of energy your orgasm has left you. You can feel your heart still hammering in your ears, body slumped against the crate under you. 
When Soap pulls himself from you, there’s a little whimper of overstimulation at the drag of him against your walls. Yet he only shushes you gently, kneading little circles into your hip to ground you once more. 
“Shh, you did so good, baby.” He tells you earnestly, voice still a little breathless as he gathers himself. Likewise, Ghost forces breaths through his nose above you, trying to even his breathing and bracing a hand on your shoulder to keep you from flopping onto your back at an uncomfortable angle. When he shifts, it’s to reach for something on his belt. There’s a click as he flicks open his knife, cutting the zip ties from your wrists and freeing you once more. 
“That’s it.” He tells you softly as your hands flop against you, and you gently rest on your back, chest heaving, blinking unseeingly up at the ceiling. “Take your time, pet. We’ve got you.”
Johnny’s touch vanishes from you for a moment, and when he returns he passes something over your head to Ghost. A wet, cool touch wipes at your face as he cleans off the cum from your cheeks and lips, gently scrubbing until you’re free of grime. 
“How do you feel?” Johnny asks gently as your breathing at last evens out, and you raise a heavy arm with a cheeky little thumbs up, to which he chuckles. 
“Fucking golden.” You manage at last, voice a little hoarse from your cries.
He seems pleased at that, and with a little murmur to his partner, you’re gently raised until you’re sitting up, knees falling over the edge of the crate. You slump against Ghost’s chest beside you, murmuring a little thanks when he presses a water bottle into your hands. You sip on it idly as both he and Johnny tuck themselves back into order, exchanging a few words over you to check in with each other as well. 
You hum a pleased little noise and press yourself into the warmth of Ghost’s front, eyes fluttering shut in contentment. The gesture seems to bleed into him, because a hand braces on your shoulder to keep you there, thumb drawing circles across your skin. 
“Solid, sergeant?” He inquires gently, and you nod to him. 
“Right as rain, sir.” You offer, and he huffs a little noise of contentment at your response.
Soap comes to take his place at Ghost’s side, and he presses a kiss to the underside of Simon’s exposed jaw as a reminder of his attention to the other man as well. Then he bends to you, cupping your face in his hands and offering you the same treatment, adding a little kiss to each eye for good measure.
“Still with us?” He asks, and you want to roll your eyes, but choose instead to look directly into his blue-eyed stare. 
“ ‘M good, Johnny. Promise.” You tell him honestly, raising a hand to the side of his face as well, the other tangling with Ghost’s fingers on your shoulder. “I’d tell you if I wasn’t.”
Soap does smile at that, and the utter adoration in his gaze forces such a fierce affection for him up your chest that you swear you’d take down the stars from the sky for him if you could. 
“Think you’re up for another round?” He inquires, concern dissolving into a touch of excitement, mischief. 
You huff. “At least give Price and Gaz a chance first.” You tell him, and Soap grins. 
“Aye, though I’m hard pressed to keep you all to ourselves, eh LT?”
Ghost chuckles, twisting his hand so it catches yours. “The sergeant makes a good point, love.”
You do roll your eyes this time. 
“You’re going to get me court martialed for disobeying orders.” You snark, but there’s no real venom to it, instead a pleased little smile spreading across your lips. “I should probably get a move on though.”
“Nah.” Soap drawls, and he straightens just so he can drag your forward far enough for your forehead to press against his stomach. “Ghost is right, day’s still young. Let us keep ye just a little longer, darlin.”
Well, you can’t really protest against that. So you let your eyes flutter shut, a heavy sigh of contentment drawing them both closer around you, hauling you into the comfort of their embrace. 
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something something, rich son soap getting kidnapped by a group who want money, ghost is part of that group and got tricked by an old acquaintance into helping, didn’t realize who the target was and ends up being subjected to a soap who’s not scared at all and keeps flirting w him despite the danger he’s in
cut to price and gaz, soap’s bodyguards, busting in and saving their boss by killing everyone else in the room. before price gets a chance to fire a shot at ghost, soap yells at him to stop
“not him, he’s coming home with me”
“you sure about that, sir? what about-“
“they didn’t tell him shit, so he’s innocent anyway”
before ghost has a chance to make a quick getaway, gaz knocks him out and ghost wakes up hours later in a room w the tables turned. he’s tied to a chair with soap sitting directly across from him, legs crossed and looking at ghost w a friendly smile despite their positions
“welcome back, simon. i have a proposition for you”
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