#this is so ghoap coded | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-californicationist · 1 year ago

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they help you practice

Team 141/Reader - Gangbang TW: explicit consent given, polyamory, vaginal sex, anal sex, face-fucking, double penetration, spitting, come as lube, bulging, Ghoap sex, bukkake, degradation, orgasm control. Let me know if I missed one, I'm sorry. Proceed with caution, please.

You let yourself into his office, shutting the door behind you, and stood before him at a sharp parade rest, waiting to be informed about your fate.

“Sergeant, thank you for coming. There is no need for formalities. This is just a chat.”

You moved to a more relaxed rest and nodded.

Price continued,

“This is going to be quite the ask. Would you be willing to perform duties which are…outside of your current scope?”

“Yes, sir,” you responded just as you should have, as you were trained to, but Price was hoping you would understand exactly what you would be getting yourself into.

“I need you to go undercover to a Konni restaurant cover in Minsk…as bait. Am I making myself clear?”

A pause. But, to your credit, you didn’t flinch. You did raise an eyebrow and ask a clarifying query,

“What kind of bait, sir?”

“Our next target, Dimitri Sokolov, will be at the Black Pearl bar in Minsk tomorrow, and we won’t get a better chance to lure him away from his bodyguards. He almost never makes public appearances, so he must be making an exception. Sokolov has,” he paused for a moment, trying to find the words, making general, suggestive motions over his own chest, “particular tastes in his women. You just so happen to have the right profile for the job. Again, this is not an order, Sergeant. I need to know if you’re willing to accept.”

“Yes, sir,” you tried to appear fully in control. You knew your breasts were large, but you had never been asked to use them as a weapon. There was a first time for everything, you supposed. You would do anything to help the team.

The captain loved your composure. He knew you would be perfect for the job.

“Good. Let's brief the team.”

Price walked with you down to the meeting room at the end of the hall and found Soap, Ghost, and Gaz sitting in the desk chairs every way except the way they were designed, lounging over the furniture like big cats, melting into the various surfaces they encountered. They fixed themselves when the captain walked in.

“Gentlemen,” Price opened, “this is our bait. Her code name is Rabbit. Rabbit, this is Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.”

You nodded politely and resumed a semi-formal rest position.

The men had noticed you around the base but hadn’t been formally introduced. You were a desk rider, but still, you were hard to miss. The baggy military clothing had almost managed to conceal a bounty of soft curves, but your lush body persisted beneath it, and the outlines of your feminine form made heinous suggestions in the fabric. Unfortunately for them, you didn’t hang around the gym or the common area enough for them to have generated a fully accurate image of your enticing body, but they were certain it was delicious. They watched you like peckish wolves. Waiting hungrily, shifting in their seats in anticipation. For what, you weren’t sure.

“Rabbit is going undercover for us to take down Sokolov, Vladimir Makarov’s new shipping controller. He has a particular penchant for,” Price paused just long enough for anyone to understand his true meaning, “certain types of women. Rabbit fits the mold, so all she needs is the gear and the training.”

Price cut open three large cardboard boxes to reveal slinky dresses and a number of questionable garments.

“I’ll need to try them on,” you offered, “Do you want me to get changed, Captain?”

“Sounds good. Come back in when you’re all set,” he smiled, enjoying the view as you left the room.

Ghost crossed his arms, clearly with quite a mouthful to share and but refusing to. Gaz stared down at the knife he was playing with, bashful. But Soap would not be cowed, and as soon as you left, he said,

“Feeding her to the sharks like bait, Captain? I dinnae ken any of us was so expendable.”

“Soap,” Price warned, “the sergeant is more than capable of handling -”

“I wasnae askin’ about the lassie’s capabilities. Send her in to slit his throat with a knife in her hand, for all I care. But to send her in unguarded, unarmed? No. It’s not right,” Soap crossed his arms.

“He’s got a point, Captain. Why take the risk of losing an operative?” Ghost spoke coldly.

Price furrowed his brow at their short-sightedness,

“And do what, exactly? Have the Russians scurry back underground at the first hint of an assassination attempt? We’ve failed that mission three times, boys. I’ll not have this go south again.”

“I’m sure she is capable, Captain. But, is Rabbit committed to this plan?” Gaz asked.

“Sure,” Price tried to sound reassuring, “we spoke in my office. She agreed to come down here. Besides, she’ll have you three as backup. You won’t let anything happen to her.”

Gaz did not seem convinced. All three soldiers wore a scowl on their faces, and even though Ghost’s was obscured by his mask, his body language communicated his displeasure. Price carefully ashed his cigar to renew the glowing tip, taking a long drag while they waited for you to return.

You were back without too much of a delay, but when you walked in, your colleagues were visibly stunned. They didn’t recognize you at first. A short black dress had replaced your camouflage fatigues, showing off miles and miles of smooth, shining skin. Your thick thighs stretched the silky fabric, and your ass threatened to escape from the edge of the dress with every step you took. Your new heels clacked sharply against the cold concrete, making your legs flex and tense, showing off your well-formed musculature. You did not miss squat day very often, apparently.

But, the assets you were trying to use for this particular mission were the real stars of the show. Your heavy breasts battled against the low dip of the dress, providing a deep display of cleavage, hinting at pink perky nipples hidden just below the line of the black silk. Your tits jiggled as you struck the floor with each careful step, making the room full of men breathe a little heavier at the sight.

Soap’s big mouth betrayed them all,

“Christ in Heaven. There you are, bonnie.”

Ghost backhanded him hard on the shoulder. Price glowered.

You had put on a little more makeup than might be socially acceptable in an office setting, making the suggestive outfit complete. Finally, as you stood at the head of the meeting table, you took out your task force regulation braid and pulled your fingers through your hair, breaking up your long waves as they spilled down your neck and back.

You smiled,

“Well, do I look the part?”

Price coughed, inhaling too much smoke on accident. Gaz hadn’t moved since you walked in the room. He just stood there, dumbfounded, arms held at an odd angle as if frozen in time. Ghost cleared his throat to save them,

“Yes, Rabbit. You clean up very nicely, don’t you?”

“Well,” you sighed, “this is sort of the raunchiest outfit I found in the box. I was going to go with something a bit more casual, but I thought I’d better be noticeable if we’re going to nail this asshole.”

Gaz finally came out of his locked state, aghast,

“Noticeable? Sweetheart, this is more than noticeable. Goddamn.”

“You think it’s too much? I don’t really know what would get his attention,” you shrugged, looking shy as you confessed, “I don’t get asked out very often.”

“You could go out with me, lassie,” Soap edged his way closer to her, slinking around the table, “We’d have a hell of a time, so we would.”

“Don’t listen to Johnny,” Ghost stood in front of him a bit, snaking an arm around your cinched waist, “He thinks takin’ his birds to the dog races is a good date idea.”

“Well, isn’t it?” Soap protested.

Gaz grabbed your hand tenderly, examining your fingers like they were a precious work of art,

“Maybe you could come with me to Berlin next weekend, babes. There’s a killer music festival going on, and we could have a really good time. How does that sound?”

“Boys,” Price interrupted, “I’m sure she has plenty of work to finish here; can’t just be galavanting off with you muppets. In fact, why don’t you stop by my office after this mission, bunny rabbit, and we can work on your projected shipment dates together? You know, I used to be a logistics man, myself.”

Ghost rolled his eyes at the Captain,

“Please, logistics? You drove a truck back and forth on base delivering food to the canteen twenty years ago. I’ve read your file.”

The men all started talking over each other, forgetting your presence in favor of coming out on top of the dog pile. You smiled to yourself, eager to push more of their buttons.

Slipping one skinny strap down your shoulder, you spoke through the din,

“You know, this dress can be strapless. Do you think Sokolov wants it up…” you locked eyes with Captain Price, seeing his throat swallow hard as he watched you in the silence you had created, “...or down?”

The other soldiers were stunned, unable to look away as you slipped both straps off of your shoulders and tucked them into your dress. One strap was still partially visible, and Ghost slowly moved one gloved finger up your arm, tracing your skin lightly, and finished tucking it in for you. He lingered, caressing the side of your breast as he removed it.

“You gonna be able to seduce this Russian bastard, Sergeant? Or, do you need some practice?” Price asked with a low, threatening tone.

The whole room held its breath waiting for your answer. The four men towered over your short frame, casting shadows over you like black spells, hoping you would relinquish your control over them. All of their eyes watched as you slowly, achingly lifted a hand and traced it up Gaz’s canvas pant leg, stopping when you discovered the heavy head of his cock, hardening down toward his knee. With the back of your hand, you pet it like a skittish animal, reveling in its smoothness and warmth. Your eyes found his as they fluttered, blood rushing through his body in a panic,

“I think I could use some practice, Captain.”

You felt Gaz’s rod leap at your answer. He bent down to kiss your mouth, slanting his lips fiercely against you.

Soap came up behind you, gripping your ass through the silk of your dress roughly,

“We’ll help you, lass. We’ll help you practice, won’t we, boys? Jesus, you smell so good,” he buried his face in your neck and sucked against your skin.

Ghost found your other hand and held it tightly, using it to steady you from Soap and Gaz’s assault. Price moved Gaz out of the way, earning himself a glare, and peeled the dress off of you in one fell swoop, revealing the expanse of uncovered skin underneath.

“Holy shite,” the captain breathed, whispering his lament, “Sergeant, where are your knickers?”

“I guess I forgot them, Captain,” you blushed, batting your eyes up at him, doing actual damage to his psyche.

He didn’t have much time to savor the moment though because Ghost was shoving him out of the way to pick you up by the thighs to lay you on the table. The giant knelt between your legs, pulling you by the knees until your ass was hanging off of the low wooden planks. He lifted his mask just enough for you to see him lick his lips over sharp, white teeth before feasting on your wet folds, letting the cloth of the balaclava hide most of his efforts.

Ghost created a soothing, yet electrically wet warmth in your core which made you keen loudly, only to be muffled by Price’s smoky kiss. You could taste the burned tobacco on his tongue and your skin was scraped by his thick mustache.

Gaz’s voice got your attention. He had freed his cock from his pants and started to stroke it, standing by your side and playing with your breasts with his free hand as Price savaged your mouth. He tugged on your nipple and told you,

“You know, Rabbit, you’re going to have to really put yourself out there tomorrow. Show him these gorgeous tits of yours. Make him think you’re hungry for his cock,” Gaz rubbed his head, hard and hungry for you, “Can you do that? Let us see how good you can be, princess. We need you to ace this mission”

You felt Ghost dip his hard cock between your pussy lips, distracting you from Price’s tongue in your mouth. You broke the kiss and looked up at Ghost, dazed, into his masked face,

“I promise, sir. I’ll be good,” you looked around at all four of the men, reaching out to grab Soap’s cock that he was stroking for you, “Will you show me how?”

You didn’t give Soap time to answer. The Scot gasped as you devoured him, sucking him down into your throat, making yourself gag as he fucked your throat in and out in long thrusts. He tangled his fingers in your hair. Ghost matched his rhythm below you, pounding his cock into your wet hole. You thought you could feel something on his dick. Was he pierced? You could see your slick gleam on his lips and chin where his mask was still askew.

“Yeah,” Ghost smiled haughtily, “you like those piercings, don’tcha baby?”

You didn’t have a chance to respond. Price pulled your head away from Soap’s dick, kissing your mouth lewdly again before giving you an order,

“Open your mouth wide for me, love.”

You obeyed. Then, he spit onto your tongue, warm and bubbling, before shoving your face down onto his own fat rod. It made your lips burn with its cruel girth, even though it felt relatively soft, and you thought fleetingly that there was no way your poor little cunt was going to be able to take him, Ghost was big enough to be filling, but the captain was carrying around a true weapon.

He pulled your head off of him roughly, watching as the strings of drool connected your tongue to his cockhead, growling in short, lustful breaths.

“Alright, boys. Make sure she’s good and ready for me. You know the drill,” Price barked, and then he was gone.

The drill? You looked for him, confused, and only found Gaz, who was now slapping his long dick on your cheek, knocking for entrance. He let you take his head into your mouth, having a much easier time than you did with your captain. You bobbed your head up and down dutifully, not realizing just how long his cock was until he tried to force it into your throat. He held you down for a moment, moaning shamelessly, before releasing you to let you breathe.

“You alright, babes?” He laughed.

You nodded, moaning. Ghost took himself out of your wetness and pulled you off of the table. Soap hopped up to lay where you were, and you moved to ride him, making sure to get right to the edge with him to let Ghost back in. You’d never taken two men at once, much less four, but there was a first time for anything, and you were a quick learner.

Spearing yourself onto Soap felt like someone had created a warm, custom, living dildo just for you. He was a perfect fit, and you both cried out in pleasure from the sensation. Ghost slapped your ass, hard, and you screamed, clenching around Soap’s cock. Soap moaned darkly.

“Keep suckin’ that big cock, baby. Need to teach you how to multitask,” Ghost threatened as he bent to eat your asshole, wiggling his tongue into the tight rim to gain entrance.

He started to fuck you with it, his long wet muscle moving in and out as Soap thrust himself up into you, hitting your g-spot every single time like magic. You took Gaz back into your mouth and tried your best to take him deeper into your throat. Every time you did, you would gag, and your muscles would involuntarily clench, and the whole room would moan. You started to come, feeling yourself flood around Soap, whose mouth had latched onto one of your nipples, suckling like he was trying to feed from you.

You could see Price out of the corner of your eye. He had lit another cigar and was smoking it, stroking himself, still not at his full capacity. You were scared of him. He looked like some sort of demon, breathing fire, and his cock was as big around as your forearm. He wasn’t as long as Gaz, nor as delightfully curved as Soap, but he made your legs shake without even touching you. When he did touch you, rising from his chair when he wanted to fondle you, pinching a nipple, pulling your hair, forcing your head down on Gaz, it lit you up like you were kerosene and he was the match.

Suddenly, Ghost’s tongue was gone, only to be replaced by his heavy head. He was going to fuck your ass, and there was nothing you could say to stop him. You’d only done anal once or twice before, and you knew it might hurt. He went so slowly that you could feel each and every piercing as he popped them into you, one by one. Then, as he pulled back out, you felt them pop as each one went through you again, raking himself in and out gently, as careful with you as he could be. When you were more pliant, he began to throw his weight into each thrust, and Soap started to groan below you from the sensation.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Johnny boy,” Price threatened, his voice full of stern warning.

You weren’t sure what he was warning him about until Soap pulled his cock out of you and came all over your stomach, Ghost’s thrusts making the fluid smear between you two, rubbing your bodies together. Ghost pulled out next, and you felt his hot, thick ropes spray onto your ass cheeks, melting down your thighs.

Gaz abandoned your mouth and took over for Soap, feeding himself inch by inch until he found your end, leaving some of his cock out in the cold. He fucked you faster than the others, not caring to move out of the way as Soap rolled off of the table, whining like a whore the whole time.

Captain Price came around to your face, holding your chin in his hand, looking down at you without pity,

“Garrick’s got a long cock, don’t he, love? You’re being so good for my men, such a good girl. Sweet little slag, hm? You’re going to do so well on this mission. Those areholes won’t know what hit ‘em.”

He grabbed your hair fiercely, hurting your scalp, forcing you to turn and look back at Gaz. Price took a long puff from his cigar, blowing it past your face,

“Baby, he could fuck you for a hundred years. He’s not gonna come until you scream his name.”

You heard Gaz moan louder at Price’s suggestion, so you did. You screamed for him over and over, not caring who might have heard you, begging for him to come in you.

“He’s not allowed to come inside of you yet, love,” Price kissed your open panting mouth, “But, don’t worry. It’s about to be my turn, and you’ll be feeling my fuckin’ come drip out of your cunt all night long.”

Price’s voice made your blood run cold with fear. He wasn’t making threats. Those were clearly promises. Predictions of the future. His cock was tucked back into the band of his pants, but it lay in wait there like a serpent, eager to strike.

Your heart pounded in your chest as Gaz pulled his long shaft all the way out of you, his come shooting onto your lips and ass, feeling him use his hand to rub it into your skin, making you sticky. Your captain gave him a warning look, and you realized they had done this sort of thing before. Perhaps many times before. As you watched Soap and Ghost comfort each other, breathing close together, touching themselves, you wondered if they ever fucked each other as well. Picturing the four of them rutting into each other made you hungry, deep in your belly, starving to witness such an act.

Finally, it was your captain’s turn. The look in his eyes made you tremble. You knew he wouldn’t be cruel, not on purpose anyway. He wasn’t a heartless man, but he wasn’t one to hold himself back from what he wanted either. You knew that he would fuck you the way he wanted to, as hard as he wanted to, no matter how much complaining you might do about how his cock would stretch you out - even to the point of pain.

“On your back, love. Legs up. Spread that pussy open for me,” he commanded.

You did as he told you, opening yourself up shamelessly, letting your folds spread wide.

He walked around the table to gaze upon your form, staring at your pink flesh like it was a hot meal, and he was starving. He moaned, rubbing his hand across your sticky mons,

“Mm, that’s my pretty little Rabbit. Now…” he paused for effect, sinking three fingers into your hole roughly but ever so slowly, twisting his arm as he did, corkscrewing his knuckles into you, “...I want you to understand that there’s a reason I’m last in line, love.”

You cried out from the pressure of his huge hand. It felt like you were going to tear. Then, after a few hard thrusts, he released you. The emptiness you felt was heartbreaking. You looked for him, pleading with your eyes for him to return to you. He pulled his cock free from his waistband, unable to connect his finger to his thumb as he wrapped around it. You whined involuntarily, something animal in you recognizing its fate.

“Shh, baby, I know,” he drug out his voice, “I know…”

He positioned the heavy shaft on top of your body, measuring himself from base to tip, reaching your navel. As he slapped it against you, it made a loud thudding noise, slamming into your muscles like a fist. Price was so heavy. You’d never even imagined a man could feel like he was pure, warm, thick marble. Your pussy seemed to understand the panic you were feeling, flooding itself, preparing for the upcoming invasion.

“I’m so fuckin’ eager for you, love,” he slapped you again, quick taps right to your swollen clit.

Then, he put his head inside of you, squeezing himself in. He left it inside of you and started to pump himself with his hand. Between the vibration from his fist and the fact that it felt like you were sitting on the end of a steel bat, you couldn’t hold back your keening, loud and high-pitched.

Price began the steady, slow march forward, swelling harder and harder by the moment, making your walls feel like they might break. It seemed as if all the blood in your body was rushing down your belly and up your legs, hurrying to your core.

Your eye were wild, full of your fear, tears forming at the corners of your eyes,

“I can’t, please! I can’t. It’s too big, fuck…”

Price didn’t stop. He just kept feeding himself in and pulling himself back out, wetting his cock’s skin with your soaking hole.

“You can, and you will, love,” the captain growled, “Now, shut that pretty mouth and take it.”

Your cheeks were wet and your eyes burned, he was so deep within you that it felt like he was thrusting into your throat. You couldn’t breathe.

Suddenly, Soap grabbed your hand, kissing your palm, using his tongue to lick your skin,

“It’s alright, bonnie. I’m here. Breathe with me, lass.”

He bent down to kiss you, but he didn’t quite connect, letting his lips graze yours featherlight. Soap breathed in and breathed out in steady, measured beats. You felt yourself begin to relax. It had such an immediate effect that you heard Price groan, able to slip himself a bit deeper than he had done.

It was like a chain reaction, the more relaxed you became, breathing with Soap, feeling him suck and lick your nipples softly, the more Price was able to squeeze himself in.

Finally, you felt his hair at the base of his cock, thick and curled, and as he sighed, he settled inside of you, impossibly pressing against your whole body, making a clear outline of himself in your lower belly. He rubbed it, almost fondly, and you felt every inch of him throb against your walls, his head bullying your womb.

You cried out again from the strain. Ghost and Gaz joined Soap. Gaz began to suckle from your breast on your left side, fondling himself as he did so, getting hard again. Ghost was at your head on the end of the table, and he bent to kiss you, upside down, his tongue running all the way down your throat, long and slippery against your own.

He pulled away, petting your cheek as Price began to grind himself into you,

“You alright, Rabbit? You enjoying your captain’s cock, hm?”

“Mm hm,” you whispered, whimpering through your tears.

Ghost smiled, and his straight, white teeth looked menacing as he did, sharp, wolf-like,

“I know you are, babe. You’re doing so well. Look at him. You can see him inside of your cunt.”

He lifted your head by your hair, showing you the grotesque shadow of Price’s heavy rod as it shoved itself into you. You reached your hands down to it, feeling it through your skin. It was so unique. His size wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced, and your body was sending confused signals of passion, your orgasms coming in shattered, broken waves. Feeling incomplete. Too powerful, and yet drawn out like the last note of a symphony.

As you touched him from the outside, Price moaned aloud for the first time. It shocked you. You looked up at him, managing to meet his eyes.

“Fuck,” you moaned, “You feel so good inside of me, Captain.”

“Mm, yeah?” He replied, using his hands to press yours down onto his cock, making you gasp, “You like it, baby? I’m gonna make sure you never want anybody else.”

Price reached down and grabbed you by the throat, scaring away Soap and Gaz. He lifted you up, making his dick fit inside of you that much tighter with the change of angle. Then, he began the true performance. He thrust himself in with fast, punishing strokes, slamming himself into you. You were sure you would bruise, and you felt dizzy, almost like you’d pass out.

Soap was at your side again, holding your hair away from your face,

“Look at you, lassie. Such a good girl for your captain. Takin’ that cock so damn well. Can’t wait to be back inside you, girl.”

He kissed your cheek, palm massaging his dick which was back to full mast, eager again.

“Alright, Johnny,” Price grinned, “Since you asked so nicely.”

Without any strain whatsoever, Price lifted you up by your hips and held you in the air as he fucked you, bringing you around the table so that Soap could position himself at your asshole. Ghost’s earlier efforts had made it ready for him, and you could very acutely feel how much he was throbbing to be inside of you, pulsing as he fit against Price.

“Ungh, fuck, lass,” Soap groaned as he began to thrust into you, pistoning with the captain, “He’s got you so tight for me.”

“Yeah? It feels so good. Mmm…” you whimpered, feeling more full than you’d ever been.

Johnny was holding your breasts as Price lifted you up, brutalizing your pussy. Every thrust felt like an electric pulse, making you cock-drunk and mindlessly pliant.

They worked in tandem for what felt like eons, pistoning in and out with each other. Eventually, after he had felt you come, Soap addressed his captain directly,

“Sir, I’m…please, sir, can I?”

“Can you what, soldier?” Price grunted through gritted teeth, testing his sergeant.

“Can I come, sir? Please, Cap…”

“Yeah, Johnny. C’mon, mate. Let her feel it.”

“F-fuck! Fuck…” Soap groaned, pushing himself flush against your asshole, pumping his come into you.

He caught his breath while he was still in you, kissing the nape of your neck, and then he pulled away slowly. He helped Gaz replace him, holding your ass wide apart so his comrade could position himself inside. And just when you thought your poor pussy would have room to breathe, Gaz’s incredibly long shaft was piercing your hole again.

You felt him sigh, his breath against your neck. He took over holding you up, and Price praised him,

“That’s it, Garrick. She’s all yours. Take it.”

Gaz reacted to his words in a way that made you rethink their entire dynamic. Then, you remembered how he had come when you said his name. He seemed to get harder and harder the more Price praised him, and you wanted to give him that same validation.

“Gaz,” you whispered, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder, “It’s so big, baby. It’s like I can feel you in my throat. Oh, Gaz. Gaz!”

“Mm,” Price put his mouth to your neck, groaning, “That’s it, love. Tell him how much you like that long cock.”

“So much, Gaz. It’s so good,” you added.

Then, Price took his left hand and wrapped it around the back of Gaz’s neck in a moment of surprising intimacy. As Price kissed the front of your throat, Gaz kissed your shoulder and nape. You felt like a peeled fruit being shared between them, a ripped rind, your juicy flesh being split in two; two halves of a ripe orange.

Gaz lasted longer than Soap had when he fucked your ass, but Price’s attention seemed to spur him on. His movements were slippery, and you could feel the remnants of Soap’s come frothing around your entrance, easing his efforts.

“Captain,” Gaz whined, desperate for more of that approval.

“C’mon, Kyle. She’s ready for you. Good lad.”

The use of his first name made Gaz thrust up into you with a feverish pace. He cried out as he came, hard, into you. Feeling him fall back out of you made you imagine the tendrils of a giant kraken, seeming to travel forever just to remove himself from your body, slithering out of you with a terrible squelching noise.

Gaz let Price hold you again, and you turned, expecting Ghost. Price laughed at you, chuckling softly,

“Missing your masked man already?”

You looked at Price, feeling raw and used, waiting for an explanation,

“He’s a little…preoccupied.”

Price laid you back on the table, letting you turn your head to see Ghost, buried in Soap’s asshole up to the hilt, furiously jacking him off, slamming into him a little too roughly for your liking. It was violent, but Soap seemed to be enjoying himself beyond measure.

Your pussy, though, disagreed with your assessment, clenching around Price’s cock while you watched Simon abuse his friend’s hole.

“Mm,” the captain moaned, feeling your muscles react, “You like that, love? You wanna be fucked rough like that?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer. Price wrapped your legs beneath his chest in a full mating press and wrecked you, pounding into your body like a giant fist. You felt your bones shudder beneath his behemoth form. Just when you thought you might puke from how overstimulated you were, you felt him pause. Then, your pussy felt like it was leaking, and it was. Price’s come just kept milking its way out of you, his cock pulsing inside, making your walls throb.

When he finished, he kissed you on the mouth, almost lovingly, reverently. He started to slide out of you, being extremely careful, and you’d never felt so empty in your entire life. It was as if you’d never be full again. You found yourself whining, whimpering for Price to return.

“That’s right, pretty girl,” Price smiled, “Never gonna want anybody else, are ya?”

You smiled, shocked and in considerable discomfort. Gaz scooped you up off of the table, cradling you, sitting down with you in his lap in a large chair. He reached down for some water and handed it to you, helping you recover.

Price was standing with his hands on his hips, panting from his exertion. Ghost and Soap were connected like two hounds, locked together, the Scot cock warming his tall lover, groaning on every exhale.

“Well, what do you think, lads? Do we have a winner?” Price asked.

“Yeah, we fucking do, Cap,” Gaz pet your head, moving your sweaty hair out of your eyes.

“Fuck yeah, mate,” Ghost growled, pawing at Johnny again, rabid for him.

“Hear that, bonnie?” Soap managed to ask, still moaning in little breaths as he was being speared by Ghost, “Got yourself a new permanent assignment.”

Price walked over to you, grabbing you by the face and kissing you once more,

“You belong to us now, love. Perfect little slut.”

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#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod #task force 141 #tf 141 #task force 141 x reader #141 x reader #feral friday #afab reader #Female reader #x female reader

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hatsbuckets · 1 month ago

Text

Hozier spiral. Please ignore me. (wait no don't) Listening to Hozier and thinking about the 141 boys. I might write something more formal later.

Fuuukkkkkk

Foreigner's God? ffuuukkkkk just ghost but also like sdjgahsdlfjaslkd

Would That I? so ghoap coded.

Take Me to Church? Can't forget this classic. Yeah. You get this one (all of them. it's all of them. Obvi Ghoap. YEs it's GazPrice. IT's GOT SO MUCH FOR SOAPGAZ. But also GhostPrice lowkey???)

Sunlight? oops you're thinking about Gaz and Soap being so lovely and bright. (especially from Price's pov?)

Talk? Ghoap Ghoap Ghoap. "I'd be the dreadful need in the devotee that made him turn around" ??? Asgdhsadjf "I'd be the immediate forgiveness in Eurydice" ???? fuukkkkkk "All the things I would do / So I try to talk refined for fear that you find out / How I'm imaginin' you" asldjflakjdsflkj

All Things End??? ALL THINGS END???? All of them. All of themmmmm... I- they know they can die. Expect that they'll die on mission because you have to. and- aasdf

Sing? Look I know but see: GazPrice (or poly141 with Gaz) "Remember when you'd sing before we moved to it? / and we'd scuff up our shoes / Honey, the groove of it / Was whatever you choose / I want to be your lover" asdfjsdjjgh and and "you put your emptiness to melody / Your awful heart to song / you don't have to sing it right" Idk but it's therreeee.

Jackie and Wilson? I mean I see it for Ghoap. Soap just "Blows outta nowhere, roman candle of the wild / laughing away through my feeble disguise" ???? "She's gonna save me, call me "baby" / run her hands through my hair / She'll know me crazy, soothe me daily / better yet, she wouldn't care." ahhhhhh

Movement? I mean look I see it. I know it's not his most popular song but "and when you move, I'm moved / You are a call to motion" Like Ghost following Soap like idk trust ???? "When you move / I could never define all that you are to me" Just aaahh trust.

Dinner and Diatribes?? The HEEEAAATTT of Ghoap. but also GhostPrice. I don't make the rules.

SHRIKE litterally Ghoap from the staaaarrrtttt "I couldn't utter my love when it counted / Ah, but now I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now / I couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted / Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now" "All of that goodness is goin' with you now" crying screaming throwing up

FROM EDEN. FROM EDEN. FROM EDEN. all of them. them. them. them. them. Babe there's something tragic about them. All of them. asdjfhsjdhjsgkjdf. "Idealism sits in prison"? Ghost. "Chivalry fell on his sword" ? sorry but Price. "Innocence died screaming" ? Soap. Gaz. Both. Literally and metaphorically. "Babe / There's something wretched about this / Something so precious about this / where to begin ... Babe there's something broken about this / But I might be hoping about this / Oh, what a sin" Aaasdhfjskdfh also also "To the strand, a picnic planned for you and me / A ROPE IN HAND, FOR YOUR OTHER MAN / TO HANG FROM A TREE" MY GOOOOODDDDD screaming

Cherry Wine??? I can't forget her. I'm sorry, like I know this song is a lot, and I think it is them, all of them with any of them. Especially if you make it like the crazy, gruff (low-key toxic) them, like. I'm- I'm not even going to break this one down. PLEASE JUST GO LISTEN TO IT. Here look: "The way she shows me I'm hers and she's mine / Open hand or closed fist would be fine / The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine" "her fight and fury is fiery, oh, but she loves" "... I'm all but washed / In the tide of her breathing / and it's worth it / it's divine" okay bye.

Someone New? It's my favorite Hozier song. It's so all of them. I'm not gonna lie, in their own way. Just "You knew who I was with every step that I ran to you" like asdhfsoduhgsd. the song just feels like Soap, because he's going around, but he wants that solid man. And ack- dying.

Projecting my favorite little guys on Hozier. I have so many more thoughts.

This man I stg never misses.

Crying in a coffee shop? Couldn't be me.

Anyway byyyyeeeeeee

#cod #call of duty #this is just chaotic thoughts #if you wanted to know what my writing process looks like this is how it typically starts just wack-ass notes.#I don't know how I get to the final product either.#tf 141 #captain john price #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghoap #kyle gaz garrick #ghostprice #gazprice #brooke blogs #I don't know guys i don't know #My writing

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meowmeowriley · 4 months ago

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Next time someone tells me I don't seem autistic I'm going to instruct them to ask me about my special interests and then interrupt them before they can finish the sentence to recite, from memory, evert line of dialog from Modern Warfare 2, both the original and the remake, which are vastly different games and stories from one another. Oh why are they different? You didn't ask? I don't care. "SO they're different because-" and then I'd go on at length about how the games are so different because the industry and the audience has changed so much and how the new games were a queer-baity middle finger to long term fans like myself, and how much I hate that it worked in bringing in so many new fans to quite literally pick the pockets of. From there I'd launch into how indie games will save us, and different games engines and how coding knowledge isn't as necessary for making games as people think. By the end of it I will have thrice over achieved my own goals: prove my autism- something that should never need to be proven-, get my thoughts about the games industry's downward spiral off my chest, and most likely I will have successfully driven away whatever poor soul made the mistake of trying to make me feel better by telling me they thought I looked like a normal person.

-sincerely, someone who's tired of people thinking it's a compliment to tell me I don't look disabled, and also someone who thinks way to freaking much about how great mw2 and 3 coulda been if they'd have actually made Ghoap canon.

#i havent gotten violent yet but i might #call of duty #modern warfare #ghoap #autism #gaming

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ghostsandguns · 5 months ago

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So, we all agree this is ghoap coded right?

#ghoap #soapghost #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #soap #johnny mactavish #mw2 #modern warfare 2 #cod #call of duty #ghostsoap

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stellewriites · 11 months ago

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MDNI !!

8.7k AO3 The Outsider to an Inside Joke

johnny x reader, simon x reader, established ghoap

cw: gn!reader (note: reader has a vagina), non con into dubcon, somno, noncon voyeurism, p in v sex, fingering, uhhh dirty talk?

Johnny and Simon hadn’t been in the 141 together for long before they decided to share an apartment in Edinburgh to save on money and stave off the loneliness that time on leave from the task force brought on.

Because as much as Johnny loved visiting his family during his time off, it only reminded him of how different he’d become from the lad they’d sent off a decade or so prior. Sometimes he thought that maybe he’d always been like this, but he just didn’t have it in him to hide it anymore.

So spending that little extra time together made sense. They trusted each other, knew each other’s habits and indicators that a mood swing was well on its way better than anyone else, worked around each other without pause in the small space. And it turned out they liked hanging out with each other even when guns and knives weren’t involved.

Inevitably they started sleeping together; close quarters and cold, quiet nights pushed them into each other’s arms sooner than Simon would be ready to admit. And it took an even shorter time for them to figure out they had the same inclinations when it came to sex and the idea of a third partner.

The thing is, it was tricky to find someone willing to sleep with them both, never mind willing to stick around afterwards.

Not when Simon was so intimidating at first glance, and Johnny’s charm never quite made up for how intense he could be. Pushy and impatient, always too quick to snap in Ghost’s defence; and Simon had gotten into the bad habit of letting him bite when it’s in his name. Call him a romantic but he liked the flash of fire in his Sergeant’s eyes and the vitriol that rolled of his tongue in the dark corners of grimy pubs.

So people tended to give them a wide berth, considered them to be a little bit much, especially when they were together.

Which, as of late, was almost always. Simon had only just convinced Johnny he didn’t need him to stand by his side as he pissed, cheers f’that. Got nothing but an eye roll in return, cheeky Scottish bastard.

The point was, their nights out at their local didn’t often end how they’d like, and instead they’d end up taking out their frustrations on each other back home in bed. Angry bruises and aches just adding to their foul moods in the morning.

They needed a chew toy to share, and it just so happened you were the perfect fit for their teeth.

—

Johnny got the idea one morning on a run with Gaz, catching up after getting their orders through – two more days before they’d be needed back. Kyle was telling him about an Air BNB he’d booked with his bird for the next time they were visiting her parents. Decent place, cheaper than a hotel, and our own space away from her family but close enough to drop in.

It was like a lightbulb went off above Johnny’s head and a sudden burst of energy had him picking up his pace on the way back to his apartment. Kyle waved him off as they got closer, wanting to run a little extra since the morning was so nice and Johnny happily left him at the steps. His excitement was palpable as he thought of the opportunity that had landed in his lap and he was eager to tell Simon.

“We should rent the second bedroom out,” Johnny said once he spotted Simon at the table. He dipped past into the kitchen to grab a water and let Simon sit with the idea over his tea and plain toast.

“No.” Johnny didn’t fret, he’d been expecting that.

“Could solve our problems, is all.” He shrugged without further explanation, knowing it’d pique Simon’s interest and irritate him at the same time; never one to miss the chance to wind up his partner.

Simon sighed as Johnny grinned, taking the other seat at the table. “How’s that?”

“Think about it, Lt. We advertise as a cheap, but nice Air BNB online, reject all the applicants we don’t wan’, accept the ones we like.”

“I’m not seein’ how this ‘elps us, Johnny. Jus’ sounds like another pain in my arse under my feet. Bad enough havin’ you,” Simon huffed, mouth ticking up at Johnny’s offended scoff, the riled-up lick of his teeth.

“We keep ‘em,” Johnny said slowly. “If they fit. We let them settle in, get comfortable an’ then don’t let them leave.”

Simon paused.

“Would take some plannin’ if it was gonna work,” he acquiesced, as close to openly agreeing as Johnny was going to get for the time being.

“I’s just the bare bones plan o’ it. We’ve got time to tweak it.” He finished his water and stood, stepped closer to Simon so he could rake a hand over his freshly shorn blonde hair. “Could start when we get back in a coupl’a months?”

Simon nodded, leaning into his hand.

—

You couldn’t believe your luck when your friend forwarded the link to you.

You’d been eager to visit Edinburgh for years after seeing photos of your grandmother and her life when she was young, growing up in a small village near the city. After she’d died, you’d wanted to visit the same spots, see how it had changed and breath the fresh air; so sick of the day-to-day repetition at home and eager for something new but familiar. Something to bring you close to her again.

There was something missing in your life and you couldn’t put your finger on it, but you were hoping Scotland might hold the key.

After your breakup a few months back, you decided to finally take the trip your ex had always tried to put you off and with the link to the surprisingly cheap rentable apartment in the centre of Edinburgh sent by your friend, you thought it might finally be able to come to fruition.

It was a private booking site, which you’d hesitated over for a moment, but the reviews were all positive, semi-recent, and the photos looked nice enough. The apartment was maybe a little on the small side, but it looked clean, and the hosts were meant to be friendly and available to help at short notice – all things your friends had said were important when they’d stayed in rented spots before.

You hummed when you saw the dates the apartment was available for were limited in chunks, sporadic at points, and pulled up your own work schedule to compare. You had a week off coming up in a month and you checked it against the site and saw it coincided with their availability.

With a grin you booked it, too elated to question when the application form asked you to attach a photo of your driver’s licence. Excitement fluttered in your stomach like butterflies as you sent it off and started looking for the areas you wanted to visit while you were there as well as arranging travel.

Your confirmation email came back a few hours later – unusual, you thought, but if they had to wait for the homeowners to confirm then it made sense it wouldn’t be as instant as the hotels you usually booked – and you kicked your legs in excitement on your couch. You took a screenshot of the email and sent it to your friend with a bunch of emojis, adding it to your calendar officially now that it was all done.

---

The journey there had been surprisingly exhausting and you hadn’t realised just how out of shape you were until you reached the top of the hill your phone map told you the apartment was located.

Admittedly, you’d almost regretted your booking when you’d received a second email from them that included a set of ‘rules’. The first few hadn’t phased you; ‘clean up after yourself’, ‘no guests’, ‘no pets’, ‘smoke outside’. None of them even made you blink, it was the usual stuff. However, the mention that the host, Johnny, lived there permanently had your lips pursing. It would’ve been nice to mention that on the listing, you’d thought sarcastically.

You weren’t sure how you felt about staying with a stranger, but the notes went on to reassure you that the bedrooms were on opposite sides of the apartment and that a spare key would be provided so you could come and go as you pleased. You wouldn’t need to be reliant on him, but you would need to let him know when you’d be expected that first day so he could be there to let you in.

With a sigh you didn’t even consider cancelling the booking; it was by far the cheapest option and maybe you should’ve assumed something like this from the reviews you’d read. Hell, the poor guy probably needed the cash to keep the place if he was renting by himself, cancelling last minute would be a real asshole move on your part.

So you’d brushed your worries away and continued to count down the days, until there you were.

Stood outside the building, you panted a little after the long walk but enjoyed the new scenery and chilled air around you.

You pulled up the last email and used the code Johnny had given you to get through the front door and up the stairs. Double-checking the apartment number, you knocked lightly and waited, anticipation rising when you heard movement from inside.

The door swung open and you you gave yourself a moment to stare. For whatever reason, you hadn’t been expecting Johnny to be young or so handsome. His broad shoulders filled the door and his deep brogue had your knees weakening.

“Can I help ye?”

“Johnny? Hi, I booked online to stay here for a week,” you introduced yourself and showed him the confirmation email. “It was a month or so back now.”

“Aye, yeah I remember. Come on in,” he said easily, his eyes barely flickering from studying your face to your phone. His smile was warm and friendly and suddenly you realised why he might’ve gotten such positive reviews. “Packed light?” He asked looking at the single small suitcase you’d brought.

“Yeah, I saw a few reviews mention—”

A sharp knock on the door he’d just closed interrupted you and Johnny’s brow pulled down in a frown.

“Not expecting anyone, are ye?” He joked before swinging it back open. His shoulders dropped back immediately, relaxed, and you could see a smile pulling at his cheeks. “Simon! Christ, yer a sight fer sore eyes,” he said and pulled the hulking man into a hug at the doorway. “Get in here ‘fore ye let a draught in.”

“Got the room sorted f’r me?” Simon asked, letting his eyes track over you for a moment too long to be polite as he stepped further into the living room.

“Ah fuck,” Johnny’s face suddenly dropped, and he turned to you with a grimace.

“What’s wrong?” You asked hesitantly.

“Is it this week you’re stayin’, Si?” Johnny confirmed, tutting when the blonde pulled out his phone to remind him of their texts. You felt your stomach drop, picking up on the conversation you were currently being left out of. “Ah shite, I’d not removed the dates online. Ah’ve gone an’ double booked.”

“Oh.” You felt your anxiety tick up. It was just your luck that you were going to be stuck without a place to stay or have to shill out three times the price you were originally planning, and likely a lot more than you‘d budgeted for. “Uhm, that’s ok. I can find somewhere else, I’m sure there’ll be a few last-minute cancellations around here or something.”

“No, no, no, don’t be daft, bonnie,” Johnny shooed the idea away. “We can figure this out.”

You stayed quiet, unsure as to where he was going with his suggestion.

“Could share a room,” Simon suggested candidly. He didn’t wait for your answer before heading over to the room on the right and making himself at home, dropping his bag on the bed visible through the doorway.

You tensed.

“I’m not comfortable sharing with a stranger,” you said softly to Johnny, eyes wide.

He gave you a pitying look. “It’s the Festivals this month, bon. You’ll be hard-pressed to find a hotel not fully booked already.” He winced when he looked at Simon over his shoulder walking back towards you. “How about you share with me?”

“What?” Your frowned at how he framed it as though that was a better option. As though the two of you weren’t also still strangers.

“Well, the beds aren’t that big, I don’t think we’d both fit unless we were all over each other,” Johnny joked, hooking a thumb in Simon’s direction. The taller man came to stand by his side, and you took the opportunity to soak in just how large these two men were.

“I’m strapped for cash, ‘s the whole reason I stay with Johnny when I visit,” Simon said, dismissing any option of him leaving. He nudged the Scot. “Not my fault y’can’t organise for shit.”

You pursed your lips, uncomfortable with how they were slowly but methodically dismantling every idea you had, until their idea seemed like the only viable one.

“Donnae wan’tae guilt ye, but givin’ ye a refund would be a right fash at the moment. You wouldnae want to be difficult, would ye?” Johnny pressed, face pinched as though cringing at the thought. “It’s only a coupl’a nights, I’m sure we can make it work.”

You felt small, like a bug under a microscope with how they stood over you, blocking you from the door. They stared at you as they waited with baited breath for your response.

“Promise not to steal the covers,” Johnny teased.

“I’ll take the couch,” you said quickly, firmly, eyes flickering to the lumpy thing just to your left.

The pair huffed a laugh at your expense.

“Your funeral,” Simon shrugged, cracking his neck as he remembered nights he’d fallen asleep there.

They left you to it, picking up on your significantly dampened mood.

In an attempt to clear your head you left your things locked in your suitcase by the side of the couch and elected to go out and get your bearings in the new city. It was getting late, and you were tired, but you were hoping a quick walk around the block might clear your head and get you excited for your trip again, hiccup or no.

As he passed you the spare key, Johnny promised to have a few blankets and pillows set up for you by time you got back and apologised once more with a bite of his lip.

Once you were outside again you pulled up your messages to your friend.

< found the place, where did you say you found the link again?

> On facebook. An add came up for it and I thought it sounded perf!

You swore out loud, faced pulled tight in a wince. You wished you’d asked at the time, maybe then you’d have thought twice about trusting the dodgy self-owned booking site.

> Is it nice?

You let your fingers hover over the screen as you contemplated your answer.

< yeah! close to the city centre too, lucky find

< the guy double booked though :/ so we’re figuring that out

> Oh no! Well u know u can always come home sooner than you planned, I’m missing you already

< think i’ll stick it out a bit longer, at least try to see a few sights. maybe if the apartment doesn’t work out

> Fingers crossed!

You elected to think she was crossing her fingers that your trip would go well, and not that you’d be coming home sooner than anticipated in order to stave off her boredom.

You loved the girl, but she’d always struggled being in her own company.

With a sigh you turned around and headed back to the apartment. Both men were in their rooms by time you got in so you did your best to stay quiet as you changed into your pyjamas and brushed your teeth in the bathroom.

You groaned at the springs that poked into your back as you shuffled around on the couch for a comfortable position to sleep in. It truly was as awful as Simon had suggested it would be and you scowled at the memory of the big bed he’d stolen from you as you fell into a fitful sleep.

---

In the morning your back felt like it had developed knots on knots and aches in places you’d never been aware of before, so you got up to ease off any more developing and stretched. You’d taken up yoga after one too many bones had started creaking and complaining more often than not in your late twenties, and you found you enjoyed the meditative state you could relax into.

In the middle of bending down to touch your toes, you noticed Simon stood leering from the kitchen, eyes zeroed in on your ass even as you snapped up straight.

“I didn’t realise you were up,” you said a little stiltedly.

He smiled, staying silent and before you had chance to speak you felt your breath hitch. Your shoulders, previously loose from your stretches, tensed painfully once more at the feeling of a strong hand unexpectedly at your lower back.

“Mornin’, ye got any plans for the day?” Johnny asked casually, letting his hand drag across to your hip from behind you. The touch disappeared as he dropped to the couch with a satisfied sigh.

You forced yourself to turn around so both men were in your line of sight, fully taken aback by their gall.

Despite making no noise as he came closer, Johnny seemed to sense Simon behind the couch and reached blindly behind himself for the tea the taller man held out. It all felt very habitual, like they were used to living around each other, and you felt a little like you were intruding.

The feeling didn’t help your skittishness as you stood in front of them both. You nodded mutely to Johnny’s question belatedly.

“Might head out early, make the most of the day,” you said, avoiding their eyes. You grabbed your suitcase and took it to the bathroom to get dressed without an audience. You grit your teeth at the amused, low voices you could hear through the door and resigned yourself to finding somewhere else to stay. The price didn’t matter, not if it meant you’d have some space to yourself, and maybe if you were out early enough you’d find a few local options.

A knock on the door had you yanking your shirt down quickly, worried they’d barge in.

“Sticking about fer brekkie? Si makes a mean full English,” Johnny said on the other side of the door, voice friendly and inviting.

“No thanks,” you called back. “Think I’ll see what’s around the area, grab something on my way. I want to be out sooner than later.”

You heard a dissatisfied hum from the other side and waited.

“Nae worries, bonnie. Have fun,” Johnny said eventually, decidedly less perky.

Once you were sorted, you locked your suitcase and placed it in the corner of the living room. With a wave and a tight smile at the door, you were on your way.

The fresh air did wonders for lifting your mood once more, nothing like the thick polluted city you were used to. You checked your weather app and sighed with relief that it wasn’t meant to rain all day and set off to find the first places that were on your list, keeping an eye open for any vacancy signs on the way.

---

The day went by quicker than you’d expected, thoroughly distracted by the festival around the city, so much so that after the first few hotels and BnB’s were all full you forgot to keep looking as you passed them by.

You stopped at different cafes and food stalls around the city, eating as you endlessly wandered without a destination in mind, just happy to find the roots your grandmother left behind.

You were exhausted by the time you got back to Johnny’s, feet aching and eyes drooping as you made your way up the stairs, and the idea of facing the pair of them and their intense personalities only left you with a headache.

“Good day?” Johnny asked when you locked the door behind you, eyebrow raised as he focused his attention on you from the couch. He rested one arm on the back as he turned to look at you, the other muting the football game he’d been watching. “Ye look knackered.”

You couldn’t help but smile when he reminded you of what you’d managed to see throughout the day, the street performances and music.

“It was amazing,” you gushed. “It must be great to live here. Experience it every day.”

“Aye, it’s a good city. Full a’ life,” Johnny agreed as you came to sit on the couch with him.

“So pretty too, the architecture is...” You shrugged, trying to find a word for it and failing.

“Johnny laughed as you trailed off. “That what you did all day? Look up at the buildings?”

“Not just that,” you huffed, laughing with him and turning to face him more openly.

Johnny cleared his throat.

“I was thinkin’, since you haven’t exactly had the experience ye were expecting, I could refund ye part of your money back,” Johnny said.

“Really?”

“Least ah could do,” he confirmed.

You sighed. “Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks, Johnny.”

You smiled, before registering the lack of weight you’d been feeling on the back of your neck over the last day. Frowning as you looked around the small apartment, you turned back to Johnny. “Is Simon out?”

“Gone tae get the messages,” Johnny answered as he looked back to the game on screen.

“The what?”

Johnny laughed at himself. “Gone tae get some shoppin’ in.”

You accepted his answer easily.

“Did you not go out?” You ask, noticing the plate and mug on the coffee table, decidedly not holding the remnants of a full English. Lunch then, you assumed.

“Nah, Simon’s not big on crowds and the festival gets a little repetitive each year fer me,” he said.

“You’ve seen it a few times then? Did you grow up here?”

“Near enough, a lot of my family live in Broxburn. Lived here a while now though,” he explained. “Works for me, being near the airport and having the space f’Simon or anyone else.”

“The airport?”

“I travel for work,” Johnny said.

The door opened before you could ask more, and Simon came in with a bag.

“Come ‘elp me cook,” he said as he headed towards the kitchen, sparing only a glance to the couch.

You stayed put, assuming he meant Johnny until the Scot nudged you with a smile.

“He means you.”

You gaped for a moment but stood. You didn’t want to be rude if Simon had bought you all dinner and all he was asking for in return was a hand in making it.

Your culinary skills were close to non-existent, however, and you grimaced as you clumsily chopped the veggies Simon had dropped on your side of the counter.

Watching you from the corner of his eyes, he huffed when your hand holding the knife slipped one too many times, almost catching your fingers and leaving the carrots wonky. You braced yourself for his stern voice telling you off when he abandoned the lamb on a low heat and hovered too close by your side instead.

“Chop slower and curl ya fingers in. Like this,” he said as he rested his own hand above yours, a hairs breadth away from touching as he demonstrated what he meant. You copied his and he nodded. “Less likely t’chop one off tha’ way.”

You snorted and thanked him, noticing the small smile that pulled at his scars and rounded his cheek on one side.

You went back to concentrating as Simon did the brunt of the work and let your thoughts drift to the way the pair of men had acted that morning.

With how nice and respectful they were being now, you could almost convince yourself that you’d imagined their intrusive behaviour that morning. Johnny keeping his hands to himself on the couch and now Simon being patient; maybe they’d seen how you’d receded at their touches and barking tones and realised you weren’t familiar enough to shrug it off like they did with each other.

Simon let you go once you’d finished with the veg, finally adding it to his lamb and setting the potatoes to boil before being mashed.

“I’ll sort the finishing touches out,” he said with a nod towards the couch, and you took that as your dismissal.

Sat back next to Johnny, you relaxed and sighed at the smell of dinner cooking.

“Si’s shepherd's pie is legendary, bon, you’ll love it,” Johnny promised as he leant over into your space a little, as though sharing a secret. “Get seconds while ye can, you’ll be fightin’ fer it between us.”

You grinned and settled against the arm of the couch as Simon came to join you both. Your eyes went wide when he shoved Johnny along to the centre of the couch however and sat on the other end, the three of you tightly packed in, thigh to thigh. You eyed up the free armchair to Simon’s right but didn’t comment or move. You had just started to get along again, you didn’t want to stir anything up.

“Got some drinks while I was out too,” Simon said as he watched Johnny flick aimlessly between films before finding one that held his attention.

“Aye? Get ‘em out then, Si. What’re ye waitin’ for?” Johnny goaded cheekily, laughing breathily when Simon tugged at the back of his mohawk roughly. Your eyes widened and eyebrows raised, but you looked away quickly before they could catch you.

Simon sighed, long suffering but fond, and stood once more. Johnny didn’t move from where your legs were pressed together but you suppose it’d be for nothing as soon as Simon sat back down anyway.

“You wan’ one?” Simon called out and you hesitated before nodding.

“Sure.” You didn’t know what exactly you were agreeing to drink, but you figured it couldn’t be too bad. You’d gone through your teens and early twenties drinking the cheapest swill there was on offer, so anything would be an upgrade to that.

Simon set three glasses down on the table alongside a bottle of whiskey and you internally braced yourself as Johnny cheered. At least the shepherd's pie would soak up the booze, you thought.

---

The three of you stayed up late after finishing your dinner and polishing off a good amount of the bottle, idle TV playing in the background as you desperately tried to stay awake and follow the conversation.

Simon and Johnny seemed to be wide awake, barely flagging as the night went on despite eating and drinking more than you; they were chatting away (Johnny) and joking (Simon) and none the wiser to the way your head drooped every couple of minutes only to snap back up again with long blinks.

You’d go to bed, but, well, you were all sat on your temporary sleeping arrangement, so you couldn’t. And you didn’t want to ask them to move, it was Johnny’s house at the end of the day even if you were paying to stay there. You always had been a touch too polite for your own good.

Not expecting to find anything, and not genuinely looking at this point, you pulled up the site for hotels in the area on your phone. Despite your lack of expectations you still pursed your lips at the lack of options available.

“Y’tired?”

Your head snapped up to look at the pair, feeling your cheeks heat as though you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t.

You saw Johnny’s eyes glance coldly at your phone and you locked the screen reflexively.

“Yeah, just a bit,” you answered Simon. “Had a busy day.”

“Why don’t you sleep in my room tonight?” Johnny offered. “We’re gon’tae be up a while longer, I can take the sofa this time.”

Hesitantly you looked towards the bedroom on the left.

“Are you sure?”

“You’re pure done in,” Johnny chuckled as he watched you stifle a yawn. “Go tae bed, I’ll be fine.”

“Thanks Johnny,” you said through a second yawn as the pair chuckled. You said goodnight and headed for the room. You’d already changed into your thin pyjamas earlier in the night in order to get more comfortable after the filling meal, and knew it meant you’d be able to just slip under your blankets once the other two had finally gone to bed.

Now, instead you slipped under the soft covers of Johnny’s bed and fell asleep quickly, happy to finally be on a real mattress.

---

Johnny and Simon had watched you like a hawk all night; eyes zeroed in on your lips every time you took a sip of the whiskey Simon poured you, and cocks tenting at the sound at the sound of your appreciative groans when you ate their food.

Johnny had excused himself to the bathroom at one point, pent up and frustrated when he’d noticed you hesitate to text your friend.

> How’s the trip? Found a rebound yet? Lol

it’s great! though the sleeping arrangement is still… weird, you’d replied after spending a few minutes typing and deleting your response. It hadn’t escaped his notice that you ignored her message about a rebound.

He’d watched from the corner of his eye as you messaged back and forth, staying vague with the details about Johnny and his unexpected friend, Simon, and gushing about the plans you had for the next few days.

He’d practically thrown himself up before disappearing behind the bathroom door and frustratedly rubbed one out, biting down on his shirt to keep quiet as he thought of your thick thighs in your pyjama shorts and your alcohol flushed cheeks.

You’d barely been able to stay awake much longer once he got back and he was giddy for the chance to get you in his bed. He turned the Simon once the door closed.

“We need tae make a move soon, they’ve started to calm down,” he said. “We leave it longer and they might actually find somewhere new to stay.”

“Not yet. Not tonight,” Simon ordered. “Need it to look like they wanted to stay here if they’ve got mates they’re talkin’ about us to.”

Johnny hummed, impatient, but nodded.

“Good boy.”

Johnny eyed up the door, waited to hear your soft snores before pulling Simon over to him and into a desperate kiss. He was sloppy and uncoordinated and Simon huffed a chuckle into his mouth as Johnny bit at his lip.

“You’ve a’ready cum once t’night, Johnny, ya wantin’ t’go again before her heads even hit the pillow?” He teased meanly, gripping at Johnny’s waist tightly, pushing up beneath his shirt.

Johnny hissed and nodded into the kiss as he felt Simon rake blunt nails across his ribs and up to his hairy chest. “Don’ be a fucking tease, Si,” he warned as he pushed the man back so he could climb into his lap. “‘M on a hair trigger with ‘em wanderin’ round in those tiny bloody shorts.”

He muffled Simon’s baritone laugh with his tongue and guided one of his mitt-like hands down to his cock.

“Maybe if ye get me off I’ll put on a show for ye when I go tae bed,” Johnny nodded over his shoulder to where you slept soundly.

“I said not tonight, Johnny,” Simon warned.

“An’ I promised,” Johnny agreed, letting his mouth drop open when Simon finally squeezed at his hard on through his jeans. “Nothin’ they’ll notice. Jus’ a bit o’ fun to tide us over. Tha’s all.”

Simon sighed and nodded, pulled his hand back to get at Johnny’s zip and button before yanking his jeans down.

“Stay quiet then, yeah?” Simon smiled fondly, eyes heavy lidded as he stared up at Johnny panting. “Greedy fuckin’ mutt.”

---

Johnny was full of excitement, though empty of any ability to get it up again, as he slipped in behind you not an hour after you went to sleep.

With teasingly soft touches, he traces his hand along your back and down under the covers, curling over your waist and up to your neck. His breath shuddered unevenly as he tried to keep his movements steady and light, his breath quiet as he hovered close at your back.

He bit at his lip as he guided his hand down your chest, over your soft stomach until he could dip under those fucking measly little shorts. His fingers shook with anticipation and his tongue slipped out to wet his lips when he felt the short, soft bristles of your pubic hair on your mons. A second away from exploring further, he pulled his hand back when you shifted in his hold and huffed a sleepy breath.

Tensely he waited for you to wake, but when you stayed quiet, he reached down to squeeze your lush arse and heaved in a breath of your scent, open mouthed as he grinned.

Soon. Simon said they could have you soon. And so with that in mind, Johnny rolled back over and fell asleep.

---

You woke slowly, warm and comfortable for the first time since arriving in Scotland, surrounded by a pleasant smoky scent as you nuzzled further into the pillow and covers.

With a sigh you gladly resigned yourself to sleeping in instead of getting a head start on your sight seeing like you’d originally planned. Tackling the steep hills over the last couple of days had taken it out of you more than you’d realised.

A deep groan had your eyes flying open however and you shot up into a seated position, sleep and comfort forgotten in an instant.

At the sight of Johnny laid next to you, bare chested and sleepily grinning, you felt a sudden betrayed anger burn in your chest. Both at him and yourself for being stupid enough to trust him to keep his word in the first place.

“What the fuck?” You seethed, confused and freaked out. How had you not noticed when he’d joined you last night? You’d not woken even once. Had you really been that tired?

“Sorry, bon, must’a had one too many bevvy’s with Si, got a li’l drunk and came to bed out’a habit instead of staying on the sofa like ah’d promised,” he said and your eyebrows raised as you realised that would be the extent of his apology. “Swear I didnae touch ye though. Nothin’ untoward.”

You continued to frown at him, silent as your half-asleep brain tried to process everything he’d said while the chill of the morning air seeped into you where the blankets had been thrown off in your panic. You shivered faintly.

Johnny looked down at your bare arms and let the back of his fingers run up and down soothingly, trying to warm you back up.

“Right,” you said tightly, voice high but thankfully calm. You needed to handle this without incident.

“You ok?” Johnny checked, raising up to his elbows and watching you closely. Eerily unblinking as he waited. Intense.

“Yeah. Sure,” you assured him, hiding the wobble in your voice. “It was an accident, right? Nothing happened, it’s fine.”

You made a note in the back of your mind to pack your things and leave that evening; you’d find somewhere new no matter the price or distance. This had all gotten far too weird and you didn’t want to see where it’d go on a third night staying here.

Johnny nodded but didn’t look convinced.

You didn’t stick around for long after that, deciding to shower and get out of the apartment as soon as you could; barely sparing them a glance when you left. Your shoulders were held tensely all morning as you desperately searched for a new room with no luck, even the ones way out of your budget had been snapped up just like they said they would’ve been.

You couldn’t believe it, and soon felt like your trip was never meant to be.

Holding back frustrated tears, you held your finger over your best friend’s number and chewed on your cheek in indecision.

Calling her to complain would feel like giving up, like your ex had been right all along and you shouldn’t have come out here. You were already feeling bad for yourself and you weren’t sure she wouldn’t just suggest coming home as soon as possible and having a bestie’s night instead of encouraging you to keep enjoying your time there.

Her last few messages had been about how bored she was without you so you couldn’t say she wouldn’t be biased against getting you back sooner for her own benefit.

You sighed and instead sent a photo of Greyfair’s Bobby, having passed the statue the day prior, and messaged her about the girl she’d been dating hoping for a distraction to cheer you up.

You refused to give up. It’s not what your grandmother would’ve done and so it’s not what you’re doing.

You try to distract yourself throughout the day, but images of Johnny relaxed and bare in bed creep forwards at every chance. You felt heat build between your legs as you remembered his easy grin, low voice gravelly and teasing until he registered your discomfort.

Your neck wasn’t aching as much this morning after sleeping in there either. Fuck, you couldn’t believe you were even thinking it after the freak out you’d had that morning, but maybe you and Johnny could share the bed and just sleep on opposite sides. You were both adults, it’d be fine.

You nodded to convince yourself.

It was an easy solution to an awkward situation, and you’d be getting half of your money back like Johnny promised. A mean voice in your head perked up asking if he’d be keeping that promise like he had about sleeping on the couch, but you dismissed it. Your options were exhausted unless you were planning on going home, and it wasn’t like you couldn’t leave Johnny’s at any point if either him or Simon did cross a line. You didn’t have many options, but you did have them.

---

When you got back to the apartment, you found yourself alone, the apartment empty of both men. Enjoying the time and space to yourself, you chilled out on the couch for a couple of hours, grateful to be able to relax without company. Halfway through the murder mystery you’d been half-heartedly watching, you heard the familiar voices of your temporary roommates on the other side of the door.

Simon’s voice was sharp through the door, demanding, but Johnny seemed to ignore the warning his tone offered and continued countering heatedly. Whatever they’re talking about, it was irritating the pair of them, but at the sight of you on the couch they stopped dead.

Johnny’s eyes brightened as they dragged over what was visible of you from behind the couch. You felt a tug at the base of your stomach, a warmth that you tried to ignore as you smiled at them both.

“Yer still here?”

"Still?” You asked, confused. You’d left pretty early that morning and it wasn’t like they’d had difficulty getting you out previously either. Maybe they’d seen you come back earlier and thought you were only dipping in.

“You’ve been out late last few days is wot he means,” Simon corrected, side eyeing Johnny. “Jus’ surprised to see you back already. Glad you’re making ya’self at ‘ome though.”

You felt a little self-conscious at that even though he didn’t seem teasing. You leant forward to neaten up the blanket you’d spread over your legs and made room for the pair of them.

Johnny wasted no time snuggling in next to you, throwing an arm over the back of the couch. “If yer not hoachin’ tomorrow, we could show ye a few places that aren’t on any tourist maps,” he offered.

“English, ‘Tavish,” Simon reminded from the kitchen.

“If yer nae busy,” Johnny corrected with a roll of his eyes. “I know you mentioned yer gran in the booking emails, wanting to be near a few places she’d mentioned; we could take ye?”

You grinned, touched by the offer and happy you’d not managed to find a new place to stay in your panic that morning. “That’d be really nice, thanks.”

“I’ll drive us, Johnny’s a nightmare behind the wheel,” Simon spoke up from the sink, his shoulders shaking in silent laughter when Johnny squawked in defence.

“Haud yer wheesht,” he scoffed. “Don’t think ye’ll be wanting to compare the amount o’ points we got on our licenses anytime soon will ye? Big fuckin’ dafty.”

You hid your amusement behind your hand as Simon turned to glare at Johnny, elbow deep in soapy water and therefore too busy to threaten him with a smack to the back of the head. Something Johnny recognised too going by the cheeky grin he was sending Simon.

“We can have a look at what’s closest and make a plan, aye?” He asked you and you nodded, excited to feel your grandmother’s history finally in reach.

---

You’d gone to bed around the same time as Johnny, but it wasn’t as awkward as you’d thought it’d be. He smiled as you came into his room and jokingly patted the empty side, asking you to get the light as you passed the switch.

You stuck to your side of the bed and found yourself easing into the mattress quickly, a soft goodnight from Johnny enough to your eyes closing as you eased into sleep.

Johnny’s hands couldn’t stay idle for long as he waited for you to fall into a deep sleep. Simon’s voice repeated the plan in his head and he lasted until midnight before he was rolling over to face you. He shuffled closer until he was pressed tight to your back and let his hands slip around your sleeping body, one arm slid beneath your head while the other moved over your hip to dip into the front of your pyjama pants.

His delicate touch tickled along your skin and he kissed chastely at your neck, soaking up the sleepy sighs and weak noises that drifted from your lips.

“Tha’s it, bonnie,” Johnny whispered as he slid his fingers past your bud and between your folds, finding the warm wetness he’d been non-stop thinking about ever since you’d booked the room.

He dragged his fingers back up to your clit and circled it fleetingly before pulling your thigh back to reveal your sex to him at a better angle. He threw his leg over yours, trapping you still and let his left hand curl back towards your mouth.

Your lips had parted while he’d played with you and you swallowed two of his thick fingers with ease.

The weight on your tongue seemed to be what finally woke you as you blinked blearily and squirmed in his hold, accidentally rubbing back against him.

His deep groan had you wide awake in a second and you gagged as you jerked in his hold and inadvertently deep throated them trying to move away.

You swallowed clumsily around his fingers and your hands flew up to pull at his wrist, but he was steadfast even as you bit down on his digits in panic.

He hissed and pulled his right hand back to slap at your mons meanly, shushing you when you yelped and released your harsh bite.

“Hey hey hey, calm down,” Johnny cooed, bringing his hand to your hip to stroke and squeeze reassuringly, slowly petting back down to the delicate skin of your inner thighs before giving your pussy some much needed attention. “Yer a’right, just relax.”

You continued to struggle, gasping and gagging, as his fingers deftly dipped back between your parted folds and sank inside without resistance. You felt yourself flutter around him and you moaned, wet and drooling and reluctant, as he petted at your spongy walls.

Your hands flitted between his, unsure of which arm to focus on removing from your body, until you were just clinging on for support, a sturdy hold keeping you in place as he wracked your body with sudden and consuming pleasure.

“Dripping already, so sensitive, barely been touchin’ ye yet,” he moaned appreciatively, his hips grinding into your ass. “So good fer me. So responsive.”

He pulled his hand back quickly, ignoring your gargled whine, and pulled his boxers down his hips, enough to release his cock. “Don’ worry, ye won’t be empty fer long,” he said, but before slipping them back inside he sucked them clean, his groan nothing but dirty and graphic in your ear. His thigh clenched over yours and he trailed his fingers back between your puffy lips before pushing three inside.

Your mouth gaped at the intrusion and your eyebrows pinched in pleasure.

He kissed behind your ear and chuckled. “There you go,” he cooed lowly. “Jesus, got me so hard.”

The drag of his cock, thick and heavy, pushed between the cheeks of your ass had you jerking in his hold, pushing onto his fingers further. Your free hand flew back to his hip, pushing him away and digging in when his hips left even a space between you on his thrusts. Confused as to what you wanted, disoriented from the sudden attention after just waking up and the pleasure taking over your senses even as the panic warred with it.

Johnny laughed as you cried out around his fingers pressed over your tongue. In a desperate attempt to get out of his hold, to just breathe for five minutes, you cried out for Simon, his name coming out garbled and wet and desperate. Though too muffled to be heard properly in the room on the other side of the apartment.

Johnny’s cock twitched against your back and you heaved a panting breath in.

“D’ye think he heard?” Johnny teased. “Why don’t you try again, louder this time?”

He curled the fingers of his other hand deftly, rubbing just right inside to leave you gasping and your pussy fluttering as you felt your orgasm build.

“I’ll let ye in on a little secret, bon. He’s been watchin’ and listenin’ the entire time,” he cooed. With a nod up to his bookshelf, he used his spit-sodden palm resting under your chin to guide your head up to the small camera hidden among the books and trinkets.

It felt like your heart stopped for a beat when you noticed the light glint of the small lens. How long had that been there? Since you’d arrived? Were there more around the apartment, in the bathroom?

“Donnae think he’s gonna come an’ help, d’you?” Johnny’s brogue had thickened as his arousal grew.

You sob around his fingers, tears finally falling as helplessness overwhelmed you. But he had rested his fingers so deep in your throat the sounds came out garbled, enough so that Johnny mistook it for another moan.

“Fuuuck, enjoying yerself now? Y’like that? Tight messy thing, ye are,” he panted into your hair. “Gonna enjoy fuckin’ ye, but ah’m gonna enjoy watching Si split ya in two even more.”

“Nngh, nn, hnng,” You tried to shake your head, pleading for him to—

To what? As your orgasm started to creep up on you, you didn’t want him to stop, but you didn’t want it to go any further either.

Did you?

His fingers turned rough as they brought you to your peak, dragging deliciously against that spongy spot inside you. You couldn’t help but grind your clit into the heel of his palm.

Your mouth dropped open on a deep moan and you felt drool drip down your cheek and his wrist.

Johnny sucked on your neck and groaned as he felt your pussy pulse around his fingers.

You blinked groggily as he pulled them out, the intense orgasm perfect to put you back to sleep. But Johnny had other things in mind.

He crowded you, bullying you until you were laid on your front with your head tilted towards the camera, hands curled and trapped beneath your chest.

Taking advantage of your lethargy and shock, he pulled your pyjama shorts fully off before plastering himself against your back once more, shifting the shirt up too so you were skin to skin.

He shifted your right leg up to bend at the knee so he had better access to your sopping cunt and tapped his tip against your sticky pussy. Your face twisted in sleepy arousal and shame before he pushed in with a drawn out moan. His hands on your hips kept you close and your wiggling to a minimum as he bottomed out without waiting for you to adjust.

He laid his chest flat to you back as he stopped himself from cumming on the spot, his sweat clinging to your skin and rumbled sleep shirt.

“Steamin’ Jesus, Si, so tight,” he panted and you felt yourself flush at the reminder that you were bing watched. Your cunt drooled sleepy arousal and you whined, eyes searching up for the camera once more.

But the feel of Johnny’s fat cock filling you, twitching deep as your pussy fluttered and clenched around it, desperately trying to accommodate to the sudden intrusion rendered you silent even with your mouth free.

You gasped as his hips pulled back before fucking back in harshly. His pace was brutal; desperate and feral as though he thought you’d be taken away before he got to finish.

You clung to the sheets as you writhed beneath him, pleasure keeping your legs spread and the rough thrusts keeping you docile. He hid a grin in the meat of your shoulder, biting teasingly and laving his tongue over the red marks he’d left.

You knew your right shoulder would be littered with throbbing marks come morning from his angry nipping.

He left a smacking wet kiss to your skin in apology before pushing himself up to his elbows. It changed the angle enough that one particularly mean thrust had you squealing. You turned to hide your face in the pillow but he tugged you back, scruffing you by the neck until you faced the camera once more.

“Let him hear ya keenin’,” Johnny ordered gruffly, thrusts growing sharp and losing their rhythm. “It’s his favourite part when we get loud.”

He trusted you enough to let you go and pushed the hand beneath your hip and reached for your clit once more, clever fingers rubbing tight frantic circles as he swore into your hair.

Your second orgasm snuck up on you, a sudden burst that had you squeezing around Johnny with a sharp cry, drowned out by his own deep, guttural groan.

He shuddered as his thrusts came to a slow stop, cumming inside you and panting hot and wet against your shoulder blade. “I’ll last longer next time, promise. Ah promise,” he muttered dreamily.

Another promise, you thought hysterically.

As you laid recovering beneath Johnny’s not insignificant weight, you heard the sound of a door opening and slamming closed across the apartment, footsteps drawing closer.

Johnny chuckled into your ear breathlessly, drowsy after his own orgasm. “Gonna make a great roommate, bonnie.” Your breath hitched but he continued even as he pulled out with a satisfied hum. “I’ll get tae give that sweet cunt a good looksie this time. Had to get you pinned quick earlier, didnae get chance to take in my fill.”

“Johnny,” you said shakily, unsure of how you wanted to continue your sentence.

“Simon’ll want ye cleaned up f’r his turn, which means I get tae eat ye out ‘til he’s satisfied.”

It was your turn to shudder. The imagined overstimulation already curling your toes.

The door opened and you hid your face in the pillow, legs still spread around Johnny, his cum leaking onto the sheets.

“How do ye want us, Lt?” Johnnys asked eagerly.

ghost and soap that move in together in between missions to save on money and eventually - inevitably - fall into bed together. but somethings missing

they’re both a little too sharp around the edges, need something sweet to ease their cravings and soften their bites, but no one fits right

until you, that is. so don’t be surprised when they make sure you’re sticking around by any means necessary

#it’s been so long BUT!! here it is finally #lemme know if you find any glaring issues or ao3 coding. i’ve gone blind to this fic now i can’t stand to read it again any time soon #johnny soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #soap x ghost #ghoap #ghoap x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x soap x reader #johnny mactavish smut #soap smut #ghoap smut #cod smut #im testing posting a full fic on here but im still hesitant #im sir used to ao3 and with all the ai stealing shit going on im….. yeah not eager #stelles fics #stelle writes n that

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pentrologram · 4 months ago

Text

What Normal People Do - 9

Feelings bubble over.

sjdkfjkslfk before we get into the good stuff, i js wanna say thank you to everyone who's left a comment so far <3 it truly keeps me going when i have dry spells of writing during school!! i love reading them and the only thing stopping me from printing them out and pinning them on a wall on my room is social norms lmaoo

ao3!

poly!ghoap/gn!reader

Not Shy of a Spark

You’re skittish now.

It’s the first thing Johnny realises when he returns to your flat. He had gone under the guise of returning a jumper you had left that Halloween night.

“Hi, bonnie,” he says, his voice nearly as soft as the cotton in his hands. He’s anxiously trying not to scare you, not keen to invoke the firey anger you had reigned on them the other day. You warily glance at the fabric in Johnny’s hands before hesitantly taking it.

“Um, thanks, Johnny,” you say shyly. “Uh, I’ve got to go now. Bye.” You shut the door on him, making him droop and drag his feet on his way back to his flat.

“Any luck?” Simon asks from where he is on the couch, Riley draped across his legs like a sort of blanket while he watches footie.

“No. Barely got anythin’ outta them,” Johnny says glumly, planting himself by Simon, and petting the top of Riley’s head.

"'S alright. Still got those reservations, don't we?"

"Well, yeah, but I dinnae want them to be mad at us," Johnny says, a pronounced frown on his lips.

"I don' think they're mad at us, love. Jus' confused, is all."

"What they said abo' the statue..."

"They wouldn't've done it on purpose, I'm sure. You saw 'em before, right, and they were half hammered," Simon says, scratching Riley's belly.

"I ken. They sounded bleedin' guilty t' other day, too," he remarks quietly.

"Probably beating themselves up abo' it right now. Ought to give 'em the reservations soon, mm?"

"Yeh." Johnny slumps further into the couch at the memory of you just minutes earlier, all meek and nervous.

"Johnny, love, 's gonna be fine. Things'll work out," he reassures, leaning over to kiss the top of Johnny's head. "You'll see." Johnny's dejected. For the first time in his life, someone that he likes an awful lot, seems... scared of him. And it scares him. He's not sure how Simon's so calm about it, so confident. Typically their roles are reversed- it's usually Johnny diving in headfirst to everything, ensuring the safety of Simon's prized personal space, his bubble.

The next day, Simon reaches out to you. Like all his prior texts, he's blunt.

Today 6:33 PM

- The Springfields, Manchester

- 8 PM tomorrow.

- ??

- wtf???

- See you then.

"What the fuck?" You repeat aloud to yourself as you lay on your bed, wallowing in self-pity after work. You'd been ignoring your neighbours for the better half of a week now and then... Simon springs a reservation to Ivy Springfields. The nicest place you've been to since you started work was a P.F. Changs once. But Ivy Springfields is a serious place- like, with a sort of unofficial, unannounced, unspoken-dress-code-serious, which makes you panic internally. You panic and dig through your closet, attempting to put something together that's loosely 'smart casual'- it's like looking for a needle in your piles of scrubs, jeans and soft, worn-out band tees. Eventually, you come across something that's acceptable, and as you go to steam it, you begin to reason why your neighbours would invite you out to dinner after a series of strictly casual and within the building dinners.

Perhaps they were going to put a hit on you- but that didn't really make sense. If they wanted to dispose of you they probably would've taken you to a McDonald's. Maybe they were going to put you down gently, then, explain that they've actually been secretly married for half their lives and just never told you- which seems a lot more likely, actually. You hadn't gotten your hopes up, thankfully, and hadn't deluded yourself into thinking that there might've been a chance that they liked you back. You didn't hate yourself, after all.

You sleep a little easier that night, knowing you had figured out their motives for taking you out to dinner- for wasting a perfectly fine Friday night on you.

Thankfully, Ivy Springfields isn't as fancy as you dreaded it being. It's intimate, sure, but it still felt casual. Seeing couples in jeans made you feel a little overdressed and suddenly a lot stupid- maybe dressing fancy would send the wrong message to Simon and Johnny? Maybe they'd think you were expecting better of them? You're panicking internally while a server takes you to the table Simon and Johnny reserved, wishing you could shapeshift to suddenly be more comfortable or better yet, more confident. Right now you felt like a bag of open nerves.

And-

Simon and Johnny don't look more casual than you. It eases you slightly. At least you were in the same boat together, you think to yourself, trying to maintain some degree of optimism. Johnny brightens and smiles as he sees you round the corner, and you wave awkwardly. It's a booth on the rooftop, and you're canopied by an arch of vines with a candle-lit lantern hanging over the rounded table. There's a quiet hum of other people talking at the tables around, but it's not obnoxious, just comforting.

"Hi," you say shyly as you sit down, a menu in front of you. You're prepared, mentally bracing yourself for the blow you know is coming within the next 30-45 minutes.

"Hey, love," Simon murmurs from your left.

"Hi, bon," Johnny says from your right.

They keep the conversation light, on purpose, you think, until the food comes. Johnny catches you off guard mid-bite.

"Bon, about the other day. The statue... We're not mad abo' it," he says gently. "Ye were a lil' tipsy an' all. Worse could'a happen." You look up at him, blinking.

"...Oh. Um, thank you. I really am sorry. I tried to throw it at the guy, but... Well."

"'S alright." Johnny soothes. He squeezes your shoulder before biting into his pasta.

"I feel really bad about it," you admit softly.

"Don't. Stuff happened and it wasn't the worst thing that happened then, wasn't it?" Simon says as he cuts a bite-sized piece of his ribeye.

"No, I guess not," Simon grunts in approval, and you let dinner go on almost silently. You feel like you're awkwardly existing with their peaceful dinner date, there only to spectate.

It's not a bad dinner. Just not-

-optimal. Maybe if the lighting was brighter and there wasn't a couple next to your table canoodling you'd feel better about it. Maybe if you weren't overly self-conscious about how you acted around the boys, desperate to make sure they didn't think you a freak, desperate to stay in their good graces, you'd be able to enjoy being at such a posh place. It's just fine. And that unnerves you. You were expecting fire and brimstone from them, all hell reigning on your back, expecting admonishment and social banishment from your apartment building. Not tagging along like a lost puppy to their date, but that was just how the cards fell, it seems.

At the end of the very awkward dinner, some couple dozen half-laughs and small, nearly-there smiles later, they offer to drive you home. You had Uber'ed there with the intention to Uber back, but if they were offering you a free ride home, well, who were you to say no?

You take the backseat which makes Simon look slightly miffed. He doesn't talk about it so neither do you, though. You're silent the whole way back to the flat complex, letting their soft conversations wash over you and lull you to sleep as Johnny drives. The food was good, your stomach was full, you were warm and the car's gentle rocking was soothing. Somewhere during the drive you fell asleep, and it wasn't until the car pulled into the apartment's parking lot did you wake up. Your cheek was smushed against the window, crust in your eyes and a bitter taste in your throat. You take a moment, picking through your memory before you remember where-

...and you panic a little bit because you had just passed out in the backseat of two grown men who probably had a little vendetta against you. And you're still panicking when you hear Simon get up from the passenger's side and go around to your end, and you're not thinking clearly when you pretend to still be asleep as he opens the door you were leaning on ever so hesitantly before scooping you up. You have enough sense to not go rigid in his arms, but it's a narrow thing.

Johnny fishes in your bag for your keys while Simon keeps you safely cradled within his grasp. They open the door to your apartment and Simon sets you down in your bed, leaving you there before taking off your shoes and coat. Then you hear a pen against parchment, and then Johnny's quiet "g'night, bon," and the warm feeling of his lips against your forehead.

You bolt up the second you hear them leave, mortified, your hand tracing over where Johnny had kissed you in a daze. It was-

It was confusing. You thought they hated you. You thought they thought you were a creep. Instead, Johnny's kiss- even if he hadn't meant for you to have known that it happened- seemed like a reciprocation. Right? It's hard to platonically kiss someone's forehead, after all.

It gives you the jitters because now you're even more confused than you were before. There was comfort in knowing that Johnny and Simon for sure hated you and were internally condemning you. The possibility that maybe they didn't hate you- on the contrary, rather liked you- was terrifying and you considered yourself terrified. You nursed yourself a cup of tea before relenting to bed.

The next morning, you read Johnny's note:

Hi bon,

you keep on faling asleep when you hang out with us! no hard feelings, tho, it's ok. we put your keys back in your bag. hope you slept okay!!!!!

Simon and Johnny xxxxxxxx

You silently stash it next to the other note Johnny had left for you.

Now, Simon and Johnny were plotting again, because their first try at goading you into realizing that they liked you back wasn't successful.

"A museum?" Johnny suggests as he scratches Riley behind the ears.

"No, we'll be whispering the entire time," Simon grumbles. "It needs to be more intimate. A cafe?" Johnny shakes his head.

"Canne hug from across a table. Maybe a wine tastin', then? New winery opened on Mosley last week, Ah think." You leave your apartment when the words leave his lips, right as Simon nods in approval.

"Right on."

This time, it's Johnny who reaches out to you first.

Today 11:43 AM

- Hi bonn!!!

- Simon and I were thinkinbg of going to a wine tasting on saterday.

- Salut Wines

- Youre invited :)

You stare at the text in suspicion while on your lunch break. The workweek had just started and you were just out with them. But still, the offer sounded nice and well-meaning enough.

Today 12:01 PM

- okay, will be there!

- what time?

- 1pm ok?

- okay! it's a date.

(On the other side of the screen, Johnny giggles, showing Simon his phone, shoving the piece of metal in front of the book Simon had been peacefully reading.

"'S a date," he echos happily. "Oooh, it's gon' be good, Si, I j's know it.)

You're savouring this week. Sure, it's a full week of work right at the start of November, but it's comforting. The calm before the holidays storm, you suppose. You deal with tots with runny noses, showing new moms how to use baby powder, taking temperatures and running diagnostics. Clean the arm, inject the arm and soothe the baby- you've got your work down to a formula, at this point, and the security of it soothes you. But time flies when you're having fun, and before you know it, it's Saturday and you're getting ready to go next door so the boys could drive you.

"Hey," you say as Simon knocks on your door, moving back to let you step out and lock it behind you.

"Hey. Johnny's in the car already." You walk in a comforting silence with him, not feeling pressured to talk like how you usually are when at work. When you reach the parking garage, Johnny looks up from his phone and grins at you from the backseat.

"Hi, bonnie," he chirps.

"Oh- hi, Johnny, I can sit in the back," you say nearly immediately, but he shakes his head, a mischievous look on his face.

"Nae, it's okay, Ah can sit back here tonight."

"Are you sure?" You ask nervously. "I would hate to impose, it's okay, I don't mind."

"It's just a bloody seat, love," Simon grunts as he gets into the car, having to bend forward to fit. Too anxious to do much else, you take the front seat, awkwardly avoiding Simon's eye as he gets onto the road.

"Put the radio on," Johnny whines from the backseat, not satisfied until Simon complies. You're unsure if it's on purpose but Johnny immediately begins to sing along poorly to the first pop song that comes on, and you watch Simon sigh.

"Does he do this often?" You ask curiously.

"Every damn time we're in the car, love. You were asleep for the last one."

"Oh." You both wince in tandem as his voice cracks. "Is it okay if-"

"Just say it."

"Is he bad... on purpose?" You ask, dropping your voice to a whisper, grateful for the space between shotgun and the backseat. You're rewarded with Simon laughing, a full-on belly laugh that sets butterflies ablaze in your stomach.

"Ha, no, I don't reckon he is."

The wine tasting is lovely and you thoroughly enjoy your company for real this time; no longer feeling like a third wheel the way you had at the beginning of the week. Maybe it's the alcohol emboldening you, but you find the courage to apologise for your whole outburst on Halloween, making Johnny's expression soften.

"Nae, it's okay, bonnie, we ken you go' a hard job, with all the wee ones. 'S only fair that ye get to scream ev'ry now an' again." He says like he had figured it out a long time before your apology. Simon just shrugs.

"'S really alright. And, y'know, you brought up some good points." He says calmly, casually, staring at you. You go rigid, immediately terrified.

"Um... really?" You ask weakly.

"Yeah," Johnny says, reaching across the table for your hand. You're immediately grateful that you had chosen a table closest to the back of the winery, the most secluded area, because you would hate for a stranger to watch you get put down gently. "C'mon." He nudges you up to your feet, taking your hand and leading you outside to the vineyard, Simon following silently behind you, eventually showing up again to your left.

"When ye said ye loved us," Johnny starts gently. "Did ye mean that?"

"U-um, well, I don't think I was in the right state of mind when I said that," you stutter out, immediately defensive. "I- uh, had a hard day of work. I think- Um, no, I didn't mean it, I was just angry and looking into stuff too much."

"Oh." Johnny seems to deflate, "well-" but he's cut off by Simon.

"That's shite and you know it," Simon says, staring daggers into you, making you stop in your tracks and subsequentially Johnny, too.

"Huh?"

"Tell me honestly right now that you don't love us."

"Well... Ah. Um, I don't?"

"Bonnie," Johnny pleads from behind you. "Say ye want this. Please." You swallow thickly, an uncomfortable mixture of nerves and nausea rising up your throat. "It's OK if ye don't, o' course, but don't lie. Please." Johnny's eyes are akin to a puppy's, big and pathetic and you feel a bit mean for lying earlier.

"Well..." You mumble, not realizing that Simon had stepped closer to you as your back was turned on him. "Well. I want this," you say, and no sooner than the words are out your mouth does Johnny pounce on you, your lips firmly against his own. Simon's arms wrap around your waist and rest on Johnny's hip, creating a comfortable sandwich.

Johnny's all smiles when he pulls away from you, and you can't help but smile a little back, tentatively, heart running a mile a minute. Simon presses a kiss to the top of your head, making you peer your head up at him.

"Thank you," he rumbles, content.

A feeling rises in your chest, one so powerful and all-encompassing that you can't feel your nausea anymore. It's still as scary as it had been in the Uber how many nights ago, but now it feels weaker. Conquerable.

And maybe you wouldn't hate yourself if you let it slip, just a tiny whisper, lost in the mass of their forms bracketing your own, but still there nonetheless:

"I love you."

<- back next ->

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luminousbeings-crudematter · 1 year ago

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IF MW3 was canon to me, and if I wasn’t completely and absolutely burnt out, then I’d write an Orpheus x Eurydice coded Ghoap one-shot where Simon refuses to accept Soap’s death. Just flat out refuses to accept that it happened. Never even goes to the funeral.

He doesn’t accept it, because he can’t believe it.

It was supposed to be him, right? How could Johnny have gone before him, in what universe was that okay?

Ghost is so desperate, clawing, grasping, fighting tooth and nail for something, anything. But first, he needs to get away. (Price looks at him with those knowing eyes. Price knows something’s not right, but what could he say?) So Ghost asks to go on extended bereavement leave and Price lets him.

And Ghost goes straight to Scotland.

Finds a crossroads.

Makes a deal.

When he wakes up in the middle of the night, Johnny’s there in bed beside him, breathing deep, looking so peaceful in his sleep. Ghost thinks it’s a fucking weird dream, only to wake up to the smell of frying eggs and coffee.

Soap seems to remember nothing about that last mission. Been havin the weirdest dreams lately, Si. Cannae believe how real some of them felt.

Something fundamental cracks in Simon’s chest at that moment. It’s real. The deal came through. Johnny’s really here.

Simon's happy to report that the rest of their life together is mundane. Even boring, to an outsider. They quit and move. (Simon takes care of all of it. Johnny never even mentions seeing Gaz or Price, but Simon never prods. It's all surreal, so what's another weird thing?) Their life together is happy.

But...

The real story begins when Simon realises that his time's up. The real story begins when Simon gets dragged to hell, goes with a smile on his face. How could he not? They'd crammed a lifetime of happiness in ten years.

The real story begins when Soap makes it his personal mission to bring Simon back, this way or that.

#soap x ghost #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish x simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish

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dollsghost · 3 months ago

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this MUST have been said already but i'm finally watching nosferatu and it's so ghoap x reader coded ... ghost as the rotting thing plaguing soap x reader's relationship ...

#ghoap x reader #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #ghost x reader #cod x reader

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izgnanik-a · 11 months ago

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Kicking off Pride month with some Ghoap?? 🫣

cw: mutual pining, light smut, heavy grinding, a bit of aftercare, ftm!Simon

// MDNII // Don’t like? Don’t read. //

The bar had been something of a hole in the wall for the lgbt+ youth for some time until it actually became something. Once a week, the event turned into something fruity, something to cater to the “gay youth”, but it was all just some sad excuse to get in more income.

Despite knowing that, they still showed up because it was a single day they could connect with their people.

So, having been a frequent to the club on the usual days, Simon decided to pay the door fee to get in on said youth days. The music had been playing unusually loud, spotlights and a disco ball on the dj booth swirling, the smell of vodka was pungent as he passed a group of drag kings laughing it up against the pinball machine.

A single slot machine sat against a wall of ceiling-to-floor mirrors, and the local winner of the mega-bux was scribbled on a piece of paper above it.

If you’d had sneezed, anyone would’ve passed by the building if it weren’t for the music and piercing lights through the blackout windows.

Simon didn’t know where to stand at the usual dead bar top, having to wait by the ATM by the bathrooms to get a drink. He wasn’t a heavy drinker, but being overwhelmed by something that wasn’t his usual Friday night — he was considering leaving.

He should’ve brought a friend, he thought to himself. But what good would that do him?

The whole point of him coming out was to make nice with someone he could take home. The last time he’d been able to have a clear enough mind to woo someone was months previous, his toys and hands had been enough but he missed physical contact, even from a stranger.

He couldn’t take home a stranger if there was a friend there he’d recognized.

So, he found himself sitting by the wall of mirrors where drag royalty were fixing their lashes, looking at their teeth to make sure there were no smudges of lipstick, and the crowd progressively grew past fire code violations.

The crowds gave wails when their favorite iconic songs had come on, moving to the dance floor to form crowd around themselves.

Simon didn’t think he was that kind of person. He enjoyed being spotlights in small groups; lunch dates with friends, movie nights, and even going to the fair. He sunk further in his seat as the liquor in his drink got thinner, ice cubes melting it down.

He returned his glass to the bar to grab another. Eyes flitting to the drink menu above the bar, he missed the body hovering to his right, a hair’s distance from his shoulder.

The stumble of the crowd brought them together, and Simon’s ribs meshed with the high bar top.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” Said the stranger, patting Simon’s back softly before stepping off.

Simon looked up at the brute, and good god — he was beautiful. Blue eyes, pierced brow, lean, tanned, and tall. Everything Simon could want to be, and to be with.

He must’ve caught Simon’s blatant stare, because he was looking back. Giving a polite smile, and swayed in his step. “I hope you didn’t think I shoved into you on purpose.” Said the Scotsman. “I’d think up a better pick-up line than trying to spill a drink on you.”

Hitting on me? Simon blinked. All he could think of was TV static. The guy probably thought he was stupid for just staring at him, not saying a thing.

The bartender approached, and if Simon had been staring at the board instead of this man’s face, he’d know what he wanted.

“I’ll have the Regina, and whatever else this one wants,” he gestured towards Simon, “I owe it for bumping into you.”

Simon collected enough brain cells to look up at the menu, and utter the words of some gay icon gospel drink they’d had, the Leslie, or something. It was put before him with a pineapple and tropical umbrella.

The man smiled as he paid for the tab, and collected his drink with a sip. “Mm. Have a good night bud.” Patting Simon once more on the back, he turned for the crowd and walked towards the patio doors.

Simon grabbed his drink, having no interest in actually drinking it, and slinking in the direction of the patio doors. He hadn’t talked to a single person all night, and this beautiful man had shown him an ounce of attention. He heeled like a dog, watching through the blackout windows as the man came to the side of a group of smokers, giving them a smile and sipping his drink.

Of course he’d come with people, Simon thought. Someone like that would.

Left to cradle his drink alone again, Simon slumped to the cushioned seats across from the dance floor, sitting with his elbows on the table under the low light.

Simon wondered if he should’ve just gone home. At the bottom of his second cup, he twiddled the tropical umbrella in his fingers as the music picked up again.

When wandering eyes had glazed over his, he looked down in avoidance. He didn’t want just anyone coming up to him. Though there were few, none compared to the beauty who’d bumped into him and bought him a drink. He was left high and dry, and still wanted to know his name at least.

Simon contemplated it, and he was going home. It was final. He collected his empty glass, umbrella between his lips, and left his glass on the bar top. When he turned for the door, he watched the patio doors come open and the crowd shuffle in. That blue eyed devil following.

Simon watched in awe as the crinkles by his eyes only made him more attractive, he couldn’t have been much older than Simon; late 20’s? Simon thought. With his hand on the door handle to head out, his eyes caught those blue ones, and Simon felt all giddy again.

The man paused as he passed, arm’s reach from Simon. “Leaving so soon?” He asked.

Say something cool. Simon thought to himself. He leaned his elbow up against the push doors, “Not my cup of tea.” He shrugged.

The man nodded. “It was good to see you.” He held up his hand to fist bump.

Who was this man to treat Simon like an old pal? Simon bumped his fist and gained a smile out of it.

“Get home safe.” The man said to him, pointing, and turning for the bar with his friends.

Simon, gobsmacked, was taken by the door opening and excused himself as he walked past the people in the doorway.

He came with a task at hand and left with nothing. Completely outwitted by a pretty man with blue eyes.

The following week, when Simon didn’t have luck with the usual cis crowd, he headed back to the gay youth event at the bar. His eyes searching the dance floor and patio for that same blue eyes man who’d been sent for him, and didn’t find him. He sat at the bar this time, looking at each customer who approached, and none of them were him.

Simon had rum and coke in hand when a gentle pat against his back jostled him. He looked up to the recipient, that blue eyed man had walked up on him while he was lost in thought.

“Hey. Didn’t think I’d see you again.” He said, giving Simon’s nape a squeeze before releasing him. “How are you?”

Chills ran down Simon’s spine where his warm palm had grazed him.

“Get anything good?” He pulled himself into the stool beside Simon, leaned up against the sticky bar top with no hesitation.

Simon needed to play it cool, despite the red in his ears growing hotter. “Rum and coke.”

The man grimaced. “That’s it?” He withheld a chuckle.

Simon puffed his chest up. “Is that a problem?“

He put his sizable hands up, thick fingers and manicured nails drawing themselves into Simon’s memory. “No problem. I’m just a whiskey man myself.”

The heaviest drink Simon could get without any consequences was a 13% alcoholic wine that was near half a take-away meal’s cost. But even one drink was testing it. The coke and watered down rum was nothing.

“Well, whiskey-man, surely you can enjoy it quietly.” Simon quipped.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Pushed back the man.

Simon watched him lean up in his chair to speak to the bartender, reading their lips to confirm, and sat back in his seat. He had a cool aura about him as he spread himself out while Simon kept tightly in his seat.

The man held his hand out, palm up, towards Simon finally. “John MacTavish. My friends call me Johnny.”

Simon didn’t think he looked like a Johnny, didn’t think he even looked like a John. But he wanted to paint a pretty picture of this man, so Johnny would have to do. “And where are your friends, John?”

Johnny smiled, hand still extended out. “I could introduce them to you, if you’d like. Do you smoke?”

Simon had a few puffs of a smoke once or twice when he was in uni, and some endless day when he couldn’t sleep during bootcamp, but he wasn’t a social smoker. So he had no idea why he said “yeah.”

He was following Johnny out to the patio like a pup on a leash, holding the door for passing people, and coming to stand at the patio table by a collection of people.

Johnny introduced them singularly, and in pairs. He’s hers, they’re his, and they’re together — all those things. When it came time to introduce Simon, however, Johnny was at a loss.

“What’s your friend’s name again?” Asked one of Johnny’s mates, holding a cigarette between his fingers.

Johnny turned to Simon, and raised his brow. “He’s very secretive, actually.” He teased.

Simon looked to his friends who ooh’ed and ahh’ed.

“We love a good mystery.” Said one of Johnny’s non-binary friends, leaned up against their partner.

Johnny straddled the bench as he sat, gazing up at Simon from the promising height. “Sit, join us.”

Simon felt his nerves fire again when Johnny smiled. He sat in the bench, like a normal person, while Johnny remained facing him, practically bracketing Simon between his massive thighs.

Johnny was all types of fit, just enough for Simon to bite onto his skin and pull at it with his teeth, like a dog with a toy.

While Johnny’s friends were immersed in conversation, Johnny wasn’t one to butt in and speak. He just sat, admiring his friends, sipping his drink, and occasionally glancing towards Simon.

Simon’s knee began to hop just thinking about this man beside him. How he’d greet him kindly every time, give him flirty little gazed and smirks. Comments that were deliberately provocative, pushing back when Simon would be bratty. He was all kinds of hot.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Johnny’s whisper in his ear made him turn his head, realizing he’d leaned in until his chest was up against Simon’s shoulder. His head turned behind Simon’s so he’d have to turn cheek to cheek to hear him proper.

Meeting Johnny gaze was a mistake, because the Brit was nodding blindly, following to stand.

“Going for a walk.” Johnny gestured for a smoke, and one of his buddies gave him their cigarette box and lighter.

Johnny and Simon abandoned their drinks in favor of walking through the lot. Simon didn’t know what he was doing, what was originally supposed to be him finding someone to bring home and fuck turned out to be yearning for this man. This stranger.

Johnny took a cigarette from the box before holding one out to Simon. Compelled, Simon watched Johnny light his first, watching the coveted glow of flames light his face under the night sky. He took the offered lighter from Johnny, finger tips grazing his, and lit his own smoke.

They leaned up against unknown cars, taking puffs between silenced stares.

Johnny took a puff before speaking. “You alright?”

Simon furrowed his brow around the filter, fingers touching his lips.

“You anxious?” Johnny asked, and when the bewilderment grew, he spiked again. “Leg bouncing, and lip chewing. I’ve seen enough people to know when your heads too full on thoughts.”

Simon sighed smoke through his nose. “It’s nothing.”

Johnny hummed. His eyes panned to the starlit sky, and back towards Simon. “You know, I didn’t think you’d be back. I thought maybe it’s the drinks, but they’re shit. No one really likes them unless they’re plastered.”

“Are you saying I have other motives of being here?” Simon’s nerves kicked in again. He felt himself shaking with adrenaline. He wanted this man on him.

“You said it’s not your cup of tea. So what are you doing here?”

Simon regretted even trying to be cool. Surely this man didn’t think he was a cis guy just trying to get a few free drinks, he wasn’t that pretty.

Johnny eyed him, almost at the end of his cigarette.

Simon wished it would go in forever, that they could stray from the club and stay in this spot alone. Even in silence, despite Simon burning inside. He couldn’t spend another week waiting to see this man again.

“You know,” he pinched his cigarette between his fingers. “You’re one to talk. I mean, really. You greet me like we’re old pals, and buy me drinks. I’d say you have anterior motives, MacTavish.” Simon pointed at him briefly, a coy smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he stepped closer. “Even thought to share a smoke with me, all alone in this lot, where no one but the drivers can see.” He tut his tongue at the taller man. “Do you think you’re so well kept?”

Johnny only stared at him with lowered lids, taking a puff before putting it out under his boot. “I was actually quite transparent with you from the start. You were too focused on the drink menu to even notice me crossing the bar for you.”

Simon sputtered, all functions lost, traction making him lose his focus on the race. He stared at Johnny’s smug face.

“I didn’t think you even wanted anything to do with me, considering you didn’t interact with anyone that first night.” Johnny put his hands on his buckle, leaning back against the car. “Just sat down with your drink most of the night.”

When Simon had thought he was being perceptive, he was just plain blind. He blinked at Johnny, near eye level with him leaned down now, and his cigarette had burned down to near filter.

Johnny cleared his throat, pinching the cigarette from between his fingers, bringing it to his own lips. He took a drag as he stared into Simon’s eyes, and huffed it aside. “If that’s not your cup of tea, then I apologize for even saying so.”

Simon kickstarted from his shock to take the cigarette from Johnny’s lips, bringing it to his own to finish, and stomped it under his heel. With his exhale, he blew it over Johnny’s face softly.

Johnny shut his eyes and relished in the whisper of breath over his face. He reopened his eyes and Simon leaned his palms against the car, bracketing Johnny in. “Yeah?” Johnny gave a teasing smirk. “You wanna be a big man now?”

Simon’s face hovered over Johnny’s, forehead grazing Johnny’s Mohawk as he stared into his eyes. He felt Johnny’s hands circle his hips, massive hands stroking up his waist to his ribs. He was rippling with chills, sighing a breath over Johnny’s lips.

“Come on, big man,” Johnny teased. “Show me what you’ve got.”

When Simon’s mouth met Johnny’s, he tasted like smoke and bourbon with a hint of vanilla. He was rough with his hands as he lapped at Simon’s tongue with care, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth before dragging Simon into his body.

Simon felt the heat overtake him as Johnny groped his ass, mouthing along his chin to his jaw and throat. Simon didn’t realize he was relinquishing his position of power until he was gasping against Johnny’s tongue on his throat. Sucking soft bruises along his pulse and ear, Simon collected himself by pulling Johnny’s hair back.

He gained a hiss of pain from Johnny, lips reflecting with spit under the starlit sky. Simon wanted on him again. “Are you going to just keep kissing me or are you going to actually fuck me?” Simon huffed.

Johnny only smiled. “I thought the kissing was pretty hot. I didn’t know we were going to fuck. I would’ve brought protection.”

Simon nearly died to those words.

“I could eat you out.” Johnny offered. “But I’m not doing it in a car.”

The front door to Simon’s apartment was sticky and had to be shouldered open sometimes, but Johnny didn’t seem to care as he was tonguing Simon down against the door. They’d finally gotten in and nearly slammed the door off its hinges.

Johnny kissed Simon’s neck again, grinding against him as he brought his leg up to his hip. “God. Where do you want-“

“The couch.” Simon uttered between tears of Johnny’s teeth against his lips.

They dragged each other to the worn couch, and Johnny was tugging Simon over him. With his hands tight in his clothes, Simon didn’t realize he was grinding into the man’s stomach until he was practically giggling against his mouth.

Simon looked down at him in confusion, and Johnny waved his hand at him. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” He insisted as he rubbed his hands up and down Simon’s thighs. “This is nice.”

Nice? Nice?? Simon was spiraling. This man was shoving his tongue down Simon’s throat, holding his thigh the entire drive over to his house, and this was nice??

Johnny smiled up at Simon, hot hands resting on his thighs. “Did I ruin it?”

Simon pressed his palms into the couch at his sides. “Yeah.”

Johnny blew a breath from his lips. “Smooth.” He told himself. “I was just thinking how we shared a cigarette and then had our first kiss.”

“Is that what you were thinking?”

Johnny hummed.

“Getting hung up on the first kiss?”

He smirked as he hummed again.

“That’s a new low.”

“Lowest bar you’ve ever seen?”

“Hard yes.”

Johnny hummed as he walked his hands up Simon’s thighs to his hips. “I liked that grind we had going before.”

“Yeah?” Simon leaned over Johnny’s face, holding the couch above his head.

“Yeah.” Johnny sighed against his mouth as he kissed him, softly this time as Johnny maneuvered his hips how he liked.

The grind of Simon’s hips against Johnny wasn’t scratching the itch that he needed. Needing just an edge to get that right spot. Simon shifted his hips towards Johnny’s hip, catching against his hip bone, and practically breaking the moment his jeans pressed against him in the most delightful ways.

Simon hummed and whined into Johnny’s mouth, rubbing until he felt faint, like he could cum in his pants right there. But that wasn’t the point of bringing Johnny back — no. Johnny said he wanted to eat him out since he didn’t bring a condom to fuck him.

But there was an obstacle to be hurdled.

Johnny’s wandering hands clasped themselves to Simon’s ass, grinding him a little firmer against his side, and all thoughts left Simon.

Simon trembled in his grip, gasping in his ear as Johnny pressed their cheeks together. He groaned and moaned, desperately writhing under Johnny’s direction. Shushing him sweetly when his hips stuttered against him.

“That’s it. Good boy. Cum for me, won’t you?” Johnny gazed down at Simon drooling against his shoulder, combing a hand over his cheek. “Nice and slow for me. Of course you needed something to grind up against. To make you feel better. Poor thing.” He cooed softly. “Cum for me. Be sweet for me and cum, using me as a toy to get off.”

His words amplified Simon’s bubbling orgasm, and he wanted his hands in his pants already. But his orgasm was climbing, and he needed an out. He shoved his face deeper into Johnny’s neck as a ghastly grunt escaped him, chills running down his body as he came in his briefs, followed by heavy panting.

Johnny’s soft assuring strokes through his hair made him float off in consciousness. “Good boy. You did so well. Good boy.” He soothed kisses along Simon’s shoulder that had him making soft pleased noises with every breath.

Simon could fall asleep like this. In another person’s arms, cradled by warmth and softness. He should be embarrassed for cumming so easily in his pants to just grinding against someone’s hip. God. He could feel the shame rising slowly in him.

Did Johnny want to leave? Was he only comforting Simon because he was crushing him to the couch? Did he think Simon owed him because of it? Was this awkward now?

Johnny’s hand cupped the back of his neck, gently scratching his nape, and his tension eased. “I’ll leave if you want me to, but for now, we can just lay here like this. Don’t even have to say a word.”

The reassurance was nice, and Simon didn’t know if he wanted the man to leave him. He was comfortable and warm, but Simon feared looking him in the eyes again and having to relieve such a horrible sexual situation.

Simon’s whole plan was to use someone to get off, to have a fraction of time with someone again. So why did this feel off?

Simon opened his eyes abruptly, not realizing he’d fallen asleep from the languished touched to the back of his neck to the warmth Johnny’s body gave off. His panic ebbed when he realized he was alone in his apartment, and the lights had been shut off.

Sitting up in the dark, he sighed as he searched for his phone to find that it was well past midnight. He didn’t remember when he’d left the club, but it must’ve been early night considering the moon hadn’t even crossed the middle of the sky yet.

A sticky note bumped his fingers as he glanced at his phone, and he stared in confusion. Reaching for the light switch behind the couch, he blinked at the pack of sticky notes on the coffee table with a pen from his knitted basket.

xxx xxxx -Johnny, thank you for tonight, call me ;)

Simon was livid.

This man had a heavy make-out session with him, let him grind against his body like some horny teenager, and soothed him to sleep by scratching and kissing his body. Only to shuffle away in the night, leaving a note like a lovesick Cinderella who had to return to his life.

Simon sat up, feeling the moisture from his briefs clinging to him. Sticky note left to haunt him, he wiped himself clean and fell back into bed.

Next chapter

Fic masterlist

#cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod mwiii #cod mw3 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley cod #john soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #cod smut #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #simon x johnny #t4t cod #izgnanik-a

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