#with more ghoap fluff

[ghcstao3]

AU with ghost and soap both being radio hosts at the same station, but soap works during the day and ghost the night, so they never properly cross paths.

but soap is often sleepless, so he’ll tune into ghost’s part of the show, the occasional commentary sprinkled between songs, far less than soap ever talks on shift. ghost’s voice is soothing in spite of its roughness, deep and calm it often lulls soap to sleep so he isn’t so miserable and reliant on caffeine when he wakes for work the next day.

and ghost who just doesn’t need so many hours of sleep to function, and is often awake during the day anyway because there’s no other way of getting certain things done, like his groceries and appointments, but always in need of background noise will listen in to soap’s segments. he’s charming, witty, and the scottish lilt has grown familiar enough to be pleasant.

out of the blue, they start leaving notes for each other. commentary based on something they heard the other say, recommending songs or topics for a rainy day. eventually, soap grows bold enough, and decides to leave his phone number—though it’s more than likely ghost could have gotten that information from the station himself. they begin texting in spite of their mostly opposite schedules, and while a friendship forms, they’ve still never once spoken to each other.

until one day, gaz—soap’s daytime shift partner—has to call out, and ghost offers to fill in, work the double shift. soap is pleasantly surprised that morning, and they end up getting on like a house fire both on and off air. it’s incredible. neither have them have laughed or smiled so hard in a while.

and though it is a one-off, they begin appearing at the station during the other’s shift, bringing food or off air company, just enjoying their shared presence. naturally a relationship blooms from there, and obviously it brings them both great joy a few years later to announce they’ll be off air for a week or two for the inevitable wedding and honeymoon.

[peepawpriceshat]

This is an hc I personally enjoy for many reasons.

Simon has curly hair. Fine and thin blonde strands that naturally twist up into loose curls atop his head and around his ears when he hasn't had a decent haircut in a while.

Not that anyone really knew that since he spends most of his days tucked away in his mask or balaclava. He doesn't really bother much with it anyways, other than taking clippers to it when it's getting too much. If there was enough hair to noticeably make his head way too warm under the fabric hiding his face, it had to go.

And even when his balaclava comes off in the privacy of his quarters, the curls have been flattened to his head and utterly fail to hold their shape after a full day of sweat and compression.

He ignores it slightly more in the winter months, the locks just adding another layer to keep the nipping wind and cold bite of the air away from his skin.

-------------------------------------------------------

He comes out from his shower, ready for what seemed to be becoming a tradition of going down a rabbit hole of videos Soap found interesting. Last time it had been something about a large goat effigy of sorts that burned down... or was torn to bits by birds... he didn't remember.

When he flops down on the mattress and settles comfortably, he can't help but raise a brow at the man's incredulous expression.

"Tryin' to catch flies Johnny?"

Which has Soap's mouth snap shut quickly, before his eyes narrow with a familiar cheeky expression.

"Didnae ken ye had curls Lt. Ye look like a wee cherub."

The tease has a scowl tug at Simon's lips, but it lacks any bite it would usually carry. Definitely due to his comfortable warm haze from the shower, and not from the seemingly fascinated blue gaze that had glued itself to the top of his head.

And so what if he said nothing when Soaps fingers endlessly toyed with the damp strands while they lounged on the mattress. It's not like he fell asleep to the clipped sounds of some dog show compilation or the feeling of blunt fingertips smoothing across his scalp.

There definitely wasn't a particular reason he didn't cut it as short next time.

[nothingbutnowhere]

Your favorite blankets are very fluffy and very soft with your favorite cartoon characters on them. Simon, however, thinks he's too good for fluffy blankets and shuns them in favor of no blankets. Which is absolutely absurd!

So one of your favorite pastimes is ambushing him with the blankets. 'Sneaking' up to him with the corners of a blanket in your hands then wrapping your arms around him, or pouncing on him while he lays on the bed or couch. 

Johnny on the other hand is a rational human being who likes soft, fluffy blankets and doesn't hesitate to wrap you both up on chilly days. 

Sometimes, when Simon is grumpy you both sabotage his mood with soft, warm comfort. Closing in on either side of him on the couch while he waits patiently for movie night is one of the great traditions.

You and Johnny make a devious team with many successful captures, completing the mission objective of cuddles. And related activities.

Simon thinks he tolerates it for your amusement, but deep down he knows he wants it too. He wants to love and be loved, despite everything that's been thrown at him, because it turns out he's not completely rotted away inside. There's two people he loves and he's lucky enough that they love him back. They're so patient and kind, even when he pushes them away they give him space when he needs it, but they never truly leave. Because they need him too. His care and protection. Him in their bed. His bites and bruises and kisses and licks. His perfect darlings need him. And that's worth sticking around for.

More Simon and Johnny

I do NOT consent for my works, part of my works, or my ideas to be used for ANY form of AI.

[queermentaldisaster]

*clears throat once more and taps the mic again*

Omega!Ghost who is wild and unclaimed, and Shepherd who wants to put a leash on this disobedient dog.

So Shepherd cuts off Ghost's suppressants, forcing him into heat.

Ghost immediately barricades himself in his room, unable to trust any alpha around him after what Roba did to him during the last heat he had before going on 'permanent' suppressants.

But, Alpha!Soap, being Soap, manages to worm his way into Ghost's space, helping him build his nest, and just being there for him, keeping his instincts under control.

*scurries away like a goblin*

[alejandro-vargass-wife]

Fluff because I’m delulu that my favorite actor isn’t actually leaving and his character didn’t actually die

Ghoap x work song or Ghoap x would you fall in love with me again

Either after Soap’s “death” where he eventually comes back to them after he is kidnapped and winter soldier’d basically, and he fights to comes back to them to, Ghost Simon, “no grave could hold my body down I’ll crawl home to him” where Johnny wants to come back to Simon and they are starting to get back to where their relationship, but is terrified Ghost and him won’t get that relationship back how it was, and terrified he’s done to much to be worthy of Simon’s love not realizing Simon will love him no matter the universe, the problem, the past or time cause he will never not be in love with Johnny.

“Will you fall in love with me again? If you knew all I’ve done, the things I cannot change. Would you love me all the same? I know that you've been waiting, waiting for love”

“I will fall in love with you over and over again. I don't care how, where, or when, No matter how long it's been, you're mine. Don't tell me you're not the same person, you're always my husband and I've been waiting, waiting”

[generalhurricane]

Hold gentle… like hamburbur…

[wishfuldivine]

Anyways, just imagine Gaz and Soap cuddling. They're watching a show they've been hooked on for the longest.

Then, out of nowhere, Ghost comes and falls on top of the two with a small grunt. And immediately, the two sergeants know that it was one of those days. They exchange glances and nod to each other.

Not even five minutes later, the lieutenant is lying on the bed with two very clingy sergeants at his sides. Showering him with love and care, just the way he loves it.

[wdymidekn]

BEBE!!!!

LOOK AT HER!!!!

[lay-z]

inamorata | 1

Summary: Two retired veterans decide to adopt a domestic hybrid on a whim to bring some much needed light back into their dire lives.

Pairing: hybrid!Ghoap x fem!hybrid!Reader Warnings/Info: 18+ | Hybrid AU ft. black panther!Simon, grey wolf hybrid!Johnny, and maine coon cat!Reader. Despite ears, tails/feathers, and their adapted nature/instincts and personalities, hybrids have human features. | strangers to lovers; class differences; fantasy/fictional setting racism; hurt/comfort; humour; eventual heavy smut; dom/sub elements; fluff; cussing; angst (Mind the warnings for each chapter!)

Based on this idea 🖤

There is an atmosphere of departure around the common hazel just outside the fenced backyard.  

The pair of robins has found their ideal nesting spot in between the high branches of the early blossoming tree after days of scouting the pretty territory. As early as January they start to sprout, Nana had explained to you once, and it’s February now. While other trees around are still leafless and recovering from winter, the common hazel is turning colourful; working hard and earnest to change the lifeless scenery with its tiny deep green leaves and pale-yellow catkins hanging from the branches. 

And joining its effort, the common birds of the area are starting to build their nests, looking forward to spring with natural optimism; stacking sticks and stones and moss to build a home in harmonic teamwork. A home for their offspring to hatch and grow; hidden and protected from predators.  

A breeze makes the thinner branches and catkins sway while the reddish birds huddle together, seeking shelter in a notch of the trunk, puffing their plumage for warmth. Out of a hole at the base of the trunk, a hare pokes its head out, large ears perked. 

You wonder what the hare must’ve heard. You wonder if the breeze is cold, if it would nip at your exposed face and make your furry ears bristle. You wonder if the air smells fresh, perhaps flowery, though definitely exhilarating. And you wonder how the robins sound, if their lovely chirps would make your heart flutter with happiness and longing for more. 

Exhaling a soft, discouraged sigh, you continue to gaze out of the meagre overhead window, curled up on the metallic windowsill high up off the ground of your tiny enclosure; chin resting on your forearm while you clutch your long and cottony, golden tail to your chest, petting it self-soothingly while you try to get lost in your daydreams; drowning out the awful ambient noise of the hybrid shelter along with your terribly empty stomach and grief stricken heart. 

It’s gotten even more crowded after Christmas, now that given away hybrids have been returned to shelters, to the illegal breeders they were bought from, or simply dumped into the streets and on highways before they were snared and detained by the regulatory agency for homeless hybrids–the RAHH. Although the only “homeless” hybrids always only happen to be domestic. The lesser species, meant to serve and obey. 

The other female cat hybrid in this enclosure has been taken to the vet last night after her water broke, leaving you with the luxury to be alone in the tiny space, along with the puddle of amniotic fluids that no one has bothered to clean up yet, so you simply had to let it dry by itself as you lack any towels or blankets to spare for a proper cleanup, though the smell isn't half as bad as the general stench of this wretched place, and to your own horror, you’ve noticed that you’re starting to reek, too. Then again, you can only groom yourself limitedly without a clean source of water and a piece of soap.  

Then, a particularly loud wail from one of the younger dog hybrids in a kennel close by disturbs your thoughts, makes you flinch, and your fuzzy ears flatten anxiously as you peek over your shoulder just in time to watch one of the shelter workers unlock the gate to your enclosure. 

Your ears perk up again, tail twitching hopefully in your grasp as your eyes flicker to her–empty hands. No food. It’s been three days. Your stomach clenches and a wave of nausea threatens to overwhelm you at the prospect of going another day without a meal before something else catches your attention, something way more surprising–two large apex hybrids standing behind the worker, both oozing power and dominance. 

The shelter worker, a stern-looking woman with a tight bun and a clipboard, sighs impatiently as she spots you hiding higher up on the windowsill again. She's used to the skittishness and fear in the domestic hybrids under her care, but your avoidant and clever behaviour is getting on her nerves. Turning to the two apex hybrids, she gestures towards you. 

“This one seems fairly docile and well-behaved. A purebred cat hybrid, female, late 20 or early 30s, we’re not sure. She's healthy and not... uncooperative like some of the others, and it seems like she’s still a virgin.” The worker says, her voice devoid of any real concern or compassion. 

Your eyes widen slowly as the wolf hybrid enters your enclosure confidently, uncaring of the still drying puddle on the concrete floor. His bright gaze is fixated on you, neck craned to meet your fearful gaze with what you can only describe as a cheeky grin; his long grey tail swishes behind him slowly while you get lost in the cerulean colour of his eyes. Bright like the sky, promising freedom. His haircut looks funny. 

“Well, well, well... aren’t ye a bonnie wee thing,” he purrs, his Scottish brogue rumbling through his friendly words. His tail starts to wag as you shift your position, turning around fully and releasing your grasp on your tail to bend over the windowsill to get a better view. Your tail uncurls and stands up straight, its fluffy tip crooking like a question mark–showcasing your curiosity. Your nose twitches as you take a tentative sniff and catch the pleasant cologne on his tanned skin, mixed with his natural musk. 

The other apex hybrid, a massive feline missing half an ear and wearing a black surgical mask, watches the exchange with a guarded expression. His dark tawny eyes, visible above the rim of his mask, are calculating as he assesses you. He takes a step closer and enters the enclosure as well, his broad shoulders and muscular build now crowding the small space while the shelter worker steps out into the corridor. 

“She’s feckin’ gorgeous, Simon,” the wolf hybrid says in awe, his eyes crinkling with mirth as he nudges the other one with his elbow while you duck your head at the compliment, a flush rising to your cheeks. “Looks jus’ like the pic on the website.” 

Simon glances up at you appraisingly; eyes gauging your body language while you tilt your head at the way he wears his sleek black tail tucked around his waist like a belt, still wondering what kind of hybrid he is.  

“Aye, she’s... a vision, and calm, too,” Simon agrees, and his voice catches you off guard–low and gravelly, bordering on a deep, soothing purr that leaves your fur bristling pleasantly. They’re both nice to look at. Strong. He glances over his shoulder at the shelter worker, who’s tapping her foot on the ground impatiently, clutching the clipboard to her chest. “This one will do. We’ll take ‘er.”  

Your breath hitches and your heartrate increases swiftly while your doe-eyes flicker between the apex predators, not quite processing what this means, though the wolf hybrid’s tail wags as he reaches a meaty hand out to you encouragingly. “Ye think it’ll work on her, Si? It certainly doesnae with ye,” he chuckles boyishly before flashing you a charming smile. “C’mon, bon–pspspspspspsps–” 

You tut, brows furrowing at the blatant insult before you glance at the other one, Simon, who simply shakes his head slowly, muttering: “Fuckin’ hell, Johnny.” There is no doubt he’s some sort of feline.  

Meanwhile, the shelter worker nods and makes a checkmark on her clipboard. “Very well, gentlemen. I’ll have her things and the necessary paperwork ready at the front desk in a minute.” 

“You’re... serious? You–You want me?” you ask in disbelief. It cannot be that easy. It cannot be that simple. And they cannot be serious about this. Your stomach growls as you push yourself up on the windowsill, waiting for confirmation while your tail flicks nervously. 

Johnny beams and reaches into the pocket of his hoodie, retrieving a bundle of black leather along with what looks like a chocolate bar. “Ye heard what Simon said, didn’t ye? Hard ta believe those pretty ears are deaf,” he snickers, fumbling with the items before holding a collar and candy up for you to see. A friendly offering, a mouth-watering temptation. You swallow hard and move to climb down from your safe haven, drawn in by the prospect of food, of getting out of this hellhole.

Behind him, Simon clasps a hand over Johnny’s shoulder, squeezing it some and making the shorter man’s tail wag again as dark eyes look up at you expectantly. “Come on down now, sweet’eart. Let’s get you home.” 

[softaestluv]

I love your writing so much like chefs kiss😌 I was wondering if you could write a really sweet story about reader meeting Simon and Johnny and joining their relationship. Maybe she gets insecure that she hasn't met them sooner but they give her lots of love. Ive read too much ghoap x reader angst and need some fluff😩(maybe a lil spice too lol)

The art store you worked at was small; a local shop that was occupied by elderly men and women more often than not. That wasn’t necessarily an issue; you enjoyed their company, though you would be lying if you said a particular Scottish man with a mohawk wasn’t your favorite customer.

When you first meet Johnny, he had been roaming the aisles aimlessly for a couple of minutes, so like the good worker you were, you asked if there was anything you could help him with. You practically swooned when he smiled wide at you— ‘aye, bonnie, fancy helpin' a lad oot?’

Soon after his presence became common place. At first, he would ask you for help, pull you from the counter so you could walk him down the aisles to the specific item. It seemed like an everyday thing; you were sure he didn’t actually need half the things he was buying— ‘Didn’t you just buy a sharpener last week, Johnny?’

‘Did I? Must’ve lost it.’ followed by a smile with a glint of mischief.

You didn’t really mind, you were quite enraptured with every animated story he told you in his thick accent while at work— even if you weren’t completely sure what he was saying half the time.

You couldn’t even act like seeing his burly shoulders walk through the doors didn’t make your day. Though, it was hard to admit that you had a small crush on him when you knew he had a boyfriend. It was even harder when Johnny started to drag Simon to your paint and drink classes and you became just as enamored with him— ‘Johnny, ya laugh at me paintin’ again, I swear that'll be your last.’

‘Si, this is meant to be therapeutic, aye!’

They became regulars; two ex-military men, massive boulders in the back of your paint and drink classes sat between the elderly. It was a comical sight to the say the least, but as much as they were amusing, they were gentlemen too. Helped carry the seniors bags and walked them to their cars at the end of the night.

Then, they helped you clean up after too, always stayed late to make sure you got to your car safely too even if you protested— ‘Only lookin' out for ye, lass.’

You felt bad for having a crush on both of them when they were clearly just trying to be friendly, but it became almost impossible when they started bringing you lunch on your breaks, when they started to brush their palms on your arms and back. When they kept inviting you over for dinner, but you kept denying them because you didn’t have the strength to eat with them and pretend you didn’t want more.

But, one particular class you indulged in the wine too— something you shouldn’t have done.

You ended up going out for more drinks with them after, confessed your feelings with tears in yours eyes when you were absolutely wasted. You thought it would be your biggest regret, that it would ruin your friendship, but you couldn’t have been more wrong.

They took you home that night, dried your tears with Scottish shushing and rough fingers. Cleaned your makeup off the best they could, stuffed you full of chicken nuggets, and snuggled you to sleep.

And then you never left.

It wasn’t always easy, especially when your boyfriends had been dating for years before you came into the picture, when they had been through traumatic experiences together that you would never know. They had a bond that you don’t think you would entirely have with either of them.

It was a hurtle you struggled to get over, but it stung your chest painfully when they seemed to communicate with each other with one look. Made you feel quite isolated in your own relationship because you didn’t understand them to extent they did each other.

So, when Johnny was sprawled on your chest, running your fingers through his mohawk, your head in Simon’s lap, the words came out of your mouth before you realized.

“I wish I met you two sooner.”

“What d’ya mean?” Simon asked, finding your eyes from above you.

“Well, I just feel left out sometimes,” You confessed quietly, Johnny’s body stiffening atop you.

“Why’s that?” Simon’s voice rang again.

You diverted your gaze from him; you hadn’t intentionally planned for this to turn into an actual conversation.

“Um, I don’t know. You two-,” You paused, licking your lips anxiously, “You two have a deeper bond with each other than I do, and sometimes I just feel like I don’t belong. That if I met you guys just a little sooner then it would be an easier relationship for the two of you.”

Johnny slid off your chest at that, pulled you to sit up beside him, “Bonnie, what are ye on about? Our relationship wisnae complete until we found ye.”

“You were the missin’ piece, love,” Simon said, banding an arm over your shoulder and pulling you close, “Everythin’ else just fell into place when you became our girl."

“We wouldnae change a thing for a' the world, nae chance,” Johnny confirmed, pressing a sloppy kiss to your forehead.

“Really?” You asked, pinching the smile that threatened to spill from your lips between your teeth.

“Aye, of course. Ye want us to prove it?” Johnny asked, but it was mischievous, a wolffish smirk smearing across his face which meant only one thing— you knew you were in for a night.

Anon I hope this is what you meant lol!!! Thank you for the kind words & request 🤍

[subliminalghoest]

Safe house 3

Ghoap x f!reader (read part one & two)

-the third instalment is hereeee

-Warning: Slow-burn, fluff, we getting real angsty with this part (you've been warned)

———————————————————————————

You didn't believe it—not really. But there it was in the scope. A perfect shot.

“Bloody hell,” Price said behind you, voice low with something between disbelief and pride. “That’s 1,750 metres. New team record.”

He clapped a hand on your shoulder. “What’s the reward, then, Lieutenant?”

All eyes flicked to Ghost. He was still looking through the spotting scope, unmoving. Like he needed to double-check that what just happened... actually happened.

It took a second before he spoke, like the words had to boot up. “…Bragging rights.”

It’s a tradition in the team that they never hand out literal awards for new records and such, only the bragging rights over the rest of the team. Nobody wanted trophies turning into reminders of those who didn't make it home.

You rose, still in quiet disbelief, and each member clasped you on the shoulder, offering their kudos—Soap practically lifting you off the floor in excitement, “Christ, I’m never hearin’ the end of it, am I?” he chortled as you helped him up.

You shoved his shoulder. Grinned. “Only fair.”

“Hell of a shot.” You blinked at Ghost quietly packing up the equipment, “You really are as impressive as your file said.”

Your cheeks heated, Simon had never really spoken to you out of choice—only ever orders or corrections during training. You were still relatively new to the team, still figuring out your place with them, and Ghost... Ghost was a fortress. But hey, the harder they are to break, the sweeter the victory.

You smirked, mock saluting. “Just getting started, Lt.”

A deep chuckle escaped him as the finished with the gear, straightening up and confirming that, yes, you still were unaccustomed to his sheer size.

“You are already solid. Don't waste your time proving yourself,” he hesitated “…and call me Simon.”

You didn't know this at the time, but you would grow to become one of the three people with the privilege of seeing the man under the mask.

Back then, it was all about bragging rights. Now... it felt ridiculous to care for something so insignificant.

This was the kind of record nobody celebrated—other than grim understanding of what it meant.

This was the longest anybody had been comms silent and came back to claim their title.

Soap was still out there.

His mission had been a solo recon assist—a quick in-and-out, they said. You and Ghost weren’t on the roster, just supposed to wait it out, keep things running here. But now it was 4 days later—no update. You weren’t on the mission, but your head replayed every worst-case scenario like you were living them anyway.

Your heart thudded heavy in your chest. You stared harder at the screen. Like maybe you could force your thoughts away if you glared long enough.

“Staring isn't gonna bring him back any faster.” Price startled you from your spot curled up in a chair in the tech room, which you had spent more time in than out of the last 4 days.

Rubbing your sore eyes you straightened yourself, “It’s my shift, Captain.”

Confusion crossed his face before he glanced above your head and saw Ghost entering the room, the same dark purple marking his eyes as yours.

“I’m not having two of my best dragging arse if we get the call.” Price pointedly looked between the both of you, “Off the clock means off. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“But we—” a sharp glare in your direction cuts off your objection. Price was your Captain, his word was the law to you, no loopholes.

You gathered the rubbish on the desk from your snacks and began to leave, noticing Ghost had left without waiting for you or uttering a single word—strange.

Sleep evaded you into the early hours of the morning, the base silent around you. Too quiet. Without Soap here it felt like your world axis had been shifted and there was a gap that wouldn't fill until he returned. He would return, he had to. Claim his record title and brag your ear off about it far into the future.

The ceiling began moving as your eyes unfocused from staring at it too hard, pressing your palm into the sockets to try and alleviate the sting.

Then—

A knock.

You sat up instantly, heart leaping into your throat. For one impossible second, you thought it might be Johnny. Back, smiling like always, grinning through dirt and blood.

“I’d like to see you last 4 days in the wilderness with no comms, fucking majestic I was—wish you could've seen it, eh?”

But the knock came again—slower. Heavier.

Not Soap.

“���Yeah?” you called, already getting up knowing who it would most likely be.

You cracked the door open, and Ghost’s hulking figure filled the space.

He lingered in the doorway, half-lit by the hallway light. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “Didn’t know where else to go.”

You blinked at him. “You okay?”

He stepped inside and shut the door softly behind him. He looked more tired than usual. Heavy. Not in a physical way, but in the way he carried the silence around him.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “Didn’t want to sit in my head all night.”

You nodded and motioned to the bed. “Sit. I’m up anyway.”

He sat down without a word, elbows braced on his knees. You stood in front of him, waiting.

Ghost wasn’t one to spill his thoughts easily. But he looked up at you now, his voice raw in a way you rarely heard.

“I keep thinkin’ the worst,” he admitted. “Every time the comms go dark like this, I wonder if I’ve already seen him for the last time.”

Your breath caught. You hadn’t let yourself say that out loud. Not yet. But Ghost’s voice cracked something open in you. Tore off the bandage you’d put up.

“He’s smart,” you said, gently. “He’s been in tighter spots than this.”

“I know.” He paused. “Still... it’s different when it’s someone you—” He cut himself off. Looked away.

You blinked. Love, thats what he was gonna say—not in the brother in arms, die for eachtoher way. They lovedeachhother.

Still, you kept your voice soft. Steady. “That’s why you’re scared,” you said. “You love him.”

Ghost didn’t respond right away. Just stared at the floor between his boots. Then—barely audible—“Yeah.”

A silence settled over you both, you didn't know how to respond. Already too emotionally raw from the past few days to fully fill in the gaps of what this meant in your head. You didn't need to though, Ghost continued, “We’ve been together. For a while.”

A while.

Oh.

You nodded slowly, but it felt like something inside you had been suddenly carved out.

You thought the safehouse night had been the start of something. Some messy, fragile maybe. But this?

They’d already had their beginning. And maybe an entire middle, too. And you... you’d just been a brief detour.

Your stomach twisted.

You moved closer, just slightly, and let your fingers brush over his shoulder. “He’ll come back,” you murmured. “To you.”

Ghost lifted his head at that. His eyes were unreadable behind the mask, but he reached out—slowly—and caught your wrist. Gently pulled you forward until you were standing between his knees.

Then his arms went around you, and he tugged you into a hug—tight, grounding.

You stiffened for a split second, then let yourself melt into it. Even with your heart aching, you didn’t pull away.

He needed comfort. And despite everything, you wanted to give it to him.

You stayed like that for a long moment. Your cheek pressed to the top of his head, his hands curled around your waist. His breath steady against your stomach. You let your fingers run gently through his hair where his mask didn’t cover it.

The moment stretched on as you held each other, bordering on the kind of intimacy you had been working so hard to forget.

Finally, he shifted, tilting his head up. “Can I stay?”

You hesitated. Then nodded. You couldn’t resist sliding your palm against his cheek, your heart squeezing slightly when he leaned his head into your palm and smiled softly. He looked so beautiful in that moment, it almost hurt to look at him.

He peeled away with a kiss to your palm, pulled away and climbed into bed. Your bed. You joined him, keeping to the edge at first, unsure. Your back to him.

But then his hand found your hip.

He hesitated. You could feel it in the way he held his breath.

Then he gently tugged.

You let him. Took what was given.

His arm came around your waist. His body curved against your back. Cocooning you in a warmth which quieted your mind.

Peaceful.

He pressed his face into your hair, and you could feel the tremble in his chest. Like even now, even after everything, he was still coming undone.

You let yourself be held.

Neither of you spoke for a while. Just the quiet sound of breathing in the dark.

Then Ghost said, voice dry, “You remember the safehouse?”

You let out a soft sound, half-laugh. “Kinda hard to forget, Simon.”

“Hm.” He nudged your temple with his nose, “Didn’t take you for a cuddler back then.”

“I’m not,” you muttered. “That was survival. You two were warm. That’s all.”

“Right,” he said, clearly unconvinced.

You tilted your head back enough to look at him. “You started it, anyway.”

“Hmm, don’t blame me—Soap was the one practically drooling on your neck.” he added, almost fondly.

You laughed, and he chuckled low behind you. It warmed something inside you that had gone cold earlier.

But then he shifted again, and his fingers traced the curve of your neck—your breath hitched. “Don’t regret it, though. Best night sleep I’ve had in years.”

He remained there for a moment, testing your reaction to his hand tracing patterns on your neck. Cataloguing each hitch or stutter to your breath—how your legs softly shifted when he found a sensitive spot behind your ear.

He moved his hand higher, gripping your chin and tilted your head toward him slowly. Gently.

Your body shifted to face his, settling against each other just as easily as you had in that safe house.

Ghost stared at you like he was waiting for you to pull away first—like he was giving you the chance to take it back.

You didn’t.

You leaned in, just enough, and his eyes shuttered closed.

When his lips met yours, it was soft. Fragile. A question, not a demand. You answered with the same quiet need, sinking into him, one hand fisting in the fabric of his shirt.

He kissed you like he didn’t know if he was allowed to want this—but couldn’t stop himself anyway.

It deepened, gradually. Mouths pressing firmer, breaths quickening. His hands tightened at your waist, fingers twitching with restraint.

You could feel the rough fabric of his mask brushing your lips. A barrier stopping you from feeling him fully.

And then, without thinking, you reached up—gripped the edges—and pulled.

He stilled, just for a moment. But he didn’t stop you.

You peeled the mask off and tossed it to the side—didn’t care where it landed. You wanted him.

And he gave in.

The kiss broke for half a breath—just long enough to see his eyes, wide and searching—and then your mouths crashed together again.

No restraint now.

Your hands buried in his hair, his tongue sweeping against yours, slow and warm and desperate. He groaned into your mouth, raw and wrecked, and the sound shattered something in you, sent heat pooling in your core.

You didn’t hold back.

You let yourself get lost in it—chests pressed, bodies tangled, breath stuttering between kisses that bled together. Hands grasping at your hips pulling you further into him, feeling the need for you against your core. Twisting, his body now half on top of you as he pushed you deeper into the mattress. There was no precision. No careful rhythm. Just aching mouths and shaking hands and raw, quiet desperation.

You kissed like you were the only thing keeping each other grounded.

You kissed like it meant everything.

And maybe… maybe for a moment, it did.

But then—reality.

You felt it before you thought it. A crackle of guilt. A flash of doubt.

Reality crashed in.

You pulled back.

Not all at once. Just an inch. Then another.

Ghost chased you for a second, eyes still closed, lips parted—until he felt the absence and opened his eyes.

Hurt flickered across his face, subtle but unmistakable. His hands didn’t let go, but they loosened, unsure. Shifting back so he was no longer laid on top of you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, breathless. Touching your fingers to your swollen, sensitive lips. Feeling to make sure that had just happened, but also maybe a barrier to stop it from continuing, “I shouldn’t have…”

He shook his head, voice rough. “No. Don’t be. I shouldn’t have—”

“Let’s just not, okay?” You rested your hands against his chest, smiling softly to reassure him.

He didn’t press further. Just rested his forehead against yours.

“Okay,” he murmured.

He lay back, pulling you with him until your head rested on his chest. One arm stayed firm around you, hand rubbing slow circles against your spine.

You curled your fingers into the fabric of his shirt.

Neither of you spoke again.

Eventually, your breathing synced.

Tonight, you were just two people lost in the quiet, holding on to what comfort and warmth you could find while your friend was gone.

The morning came slow.

Sunlight leaked in through the blinds, painting thin golden lines across the sheets. The room was quiet—still wrapped in that rare hush that only came after long, heavy nights.

You stirred first.

For a second, you didn’t know where you were. A solid wall infront of you giving you no clues as your brain struggled to wake itself up. Then you felt the weight of his arm around your waist, the warmth of his chest against your back, the steady breath brushing the back of your neck.

Ghost.

Your heart kicked up again—but not with panic, not quite. It was a soft ache. Bittersweet.

You didn’t move.

Didn’t want to.

He was still asleep. You could tell by the way his fingers twitched now and then against your stomach, relaxed in a way he rarely let himself be. His face—half buried against your shoulder—was bare still. His mask lay abandoned somewhere on the floor, like it hadn’t mattered last night. He’d let you see him when the rest of the world couldn’t.

You didn’t know what this was. What it meant. But you knew what it had felt like.

You settled further into his arms, carefully threading your fingers through his resting in your stomach, bringing his hand up to the centre of your chest. Letting yourself enjoy it. Just for a little longer. You weren’t ready for the world outside this bed. Not yet.

But reality never waited long.

Ghost’s phone buzzed.

The sound was sharp—too loud in the stillness.

You felt him jolt slightly behind you, his breath catching. Then the arm around you tightened reflexively before pulling away altogether.

You watched him move in silence.

He rolled over, reached for his phone. Pulling you with him with his other arm, tucking you in firmly against his side. A short kiss pressed into your hairline, sweet, soft, a side of Simon you hadn’t experienced before but seemed so natural to him you wondered if this is what he would be like, waking up with him every morning, the thought felt dangerous.

Screen glow lit up his face. You saw the moment it happened—the second everything changed.

The message on the screen must’ve hit him like a shot to the chest.

“Johnny’s back,” he said, voice flat. Distant.

Your heart surged. Relief swept through you fast, hard—but it was eclipsed almost instantly by the shift in him.

“That’s good,” you managed, voice low. You sat up slowly, the sheet wrapped tight around your chest. “He okay?”

He sat up fast. Swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Started grabbing his things, pulling on his boots, his hoodie, reaching for the mask. “I assume so. Just got a general update. I’ll check on him.”

He didn’t look at you.

You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to shake the quiet, the stillness that had turned suffocating.

“So…” you tried, a bit too casually. “You heading straight over?”

“Yeah.”

Silence.

Nothing more.

“Simon—” you started.

He just kept moving like the night hadn’t happened. Like the warmth you’d shared was some illusion.

You sat up straighter, sheet clutched to your chest. “Ghost.”

That finally got a pause out of him.

Half-dressed, mask still in his hand, he stood at the foot of the bed, back still to you.

“I shouldn’t have come last night,” he said. Quiet. Measured.

You flinched like he’d hit you.

No mention of the way you’d kissed him. No acknowledgment of the way he’d held you like he might fall apart if he let go. No sign of the soft, raw version of Simon that had laid beside you in the dark.

You bit your lip. Swallowed hard.

He looked over his shoulder—just barely. His eyes were unreadable again, that wall going up inch by inch. The wall you thought he’d let you behind for a moment.

Then he turned away. Pulled the mask back on.

The man who’d kissed you like he was drowning was gone. Replaced with the Ghost the world always saw. Cold. Sharp. Untouchable.

He reached for the door and suddenly you couldn’t let him leave like this. You knew once he left you would never build the courage to ask him what this meant. Would never know.

“Wait,” you said, voice cracking. “So that’s it? We just…” You didn’t know how to finish the sentence and the weight of it hung heavy in the air.

He hesitated—hand on the doorknob. The silence stretched.

Then, finally, “I can’t.”

And he left.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Silence.

You sat there for a long time.

The room still smelled like him. The sheets still held the imprint of his body. But he was gone. You were alone.

Your throat burned.

You dragged the blanket off, beginning to recollect yourself—get ready to face the day, whatever state Soap had been found in.

And deep down, you weren’t sure which cut deeper—the fear of finding Johnny…or the certainty you’d already lost Simon.

You let the quiet crush you.

Next part here

[stellewriites]

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

Would rlly apreciate it <3

-🌑

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

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

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

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

“need a hand, dove?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

simon paused. “hm. you’re right.”

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

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

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

his silence spoke volumes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“aye.”

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

johnny pouted.

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

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

“could be a treat,” ghost conceded.

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

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

you caved immediately.

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

“yes, ma’am.” johnny jogged off.

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“too t’red,” he mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[celestialprincesse]

Could you do a poly 141! If you’re comfortable with it! I’d prefer fluffy poly 141. Or if you’re not comfortable! Maybe Ghoap or just ghost x reader fluff! I’m not that big of a smut fan when it comes to cod, these poor military men just need a hug

with lots of love - 🩰

FERAL FOR POLY 141 FE RAL FERAL FERAL can u tell that I like this dynamic just a lil bit ( a totally normal amount )

You're pottering around the kitchen when the boys come home from the gym, said boys not including a very sullen Johnny who threw his knee out last week leading you to promptly issue a very firm bed rest order, swatting your tea towel at him when he'd attempted to slip out this morning with his gym bag.

Kyle is on you immediately to see what you're whipping up, whilst John goes off to shower and Simon goes to bring in more logs for the slowly dwindling fire. You attempt to shoo Kyle away as he and Johnny sidle up to your back, nipping at your neck or toying with your hair - making your cooking far more difficult. You successfully manage to shoo Johnny away with a spoonful of creme brûlée stuffed into his open mouth, whilst Kyle sticks at your side like a limpet, whinging about how he'd missed you at the gym and that the boys are all so testosterone-y, which you promptly shut up with a gentle kiss to his waiting lips. With the first lot of grumbling military men out of your hair, you seek Simon out where he smokes on the porch, a steaming mug of earl grey in one hand and a brownie in the other. He promptly moves his cigarette to his other hand so that he can scoop you up against his side, resting his chin against the crown of your head, breathing in the smell of your shampoo and perfume appreciatively. You yourself give an appreciative hum at the warmth of his presence, your wellies and pyjama shorts not doing very much against the chilly morning outside the cozy confines of home.

"How's Johnny?" He rumbles into your hair, pulling back momentarily to take a drag from his cigarette before sidling back up to you. "A pain in the ass." You huff fondly back, unable to hide the pity in your voice for the normally eternally energetic Scotsman. "Cabin fever's got him practically bouncing off the walls." "And you? Are you doing okay, birdie?" "M' just happy to have all my boys home and safe." The sound of your voice melts into the quiet birdsong and the eternally soothing sound of Simon's slightly raspy breathing from the deviated septum he'd managed to get after breaking his nose a few years back.

The sound of the door swinging open doesn't disrupt you and Simon from your shared moment of peace, John coming out with one of his cigars hanging between his lips, free hand snaking around your waist as he leans against the porch. Quickly you notice the phone balanced between his ear and shoulder, and his expression focussed intently on what the person on the other end is saying. John puffs away at his cigar, fidgeting absently with the waistband of your shorts whilst you and Simon chat away about nothing, careful not to let your voices be heard by whoever John's on the phone to.

Growing sick of the cold, you give Simon and John kisses respectively before retreating inside where Kyle and Johnny have settled on the couch, playstation controllers in hand and a video game shown on the large flatscreen Johnny'd insisted you all bought when you moved in together. You're quick to shimmy up beside Johnny, settling your head on his lap, soothed by the sound of he and Kyle talking about the game, John and Simon soon joining the three of you. Simon squishes between Kyle and Johnny in order to play with your hair and chat to you about your day, whilst John gathers your legs up and plops them into his lap, tracing patterns across the bare skin of your calves as he reads something on his phone.

You eventually find yourself dozing off in spite of the ruckus around you, only waking at midday when you're coaxed off of the couch by Kyle who carries your tired body to the simple dining room where the others are laying the table, diligently having taken the large piece of meat you'd been slow roasting all morning from the oven, placed in the middle of the table.

The boys thank you as you all tuck into the hearty, late lunch you'd prepared, laughter and chatter filling the cozy room, gratitude palpable amongst you.

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Between Loyalty and Love

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (Ghoap x reader)

Warnings: Mild violence, swearing, poly relationship, intimacy (Simon/Johnny, Simon/you, Johnny/you), fluff, slow-burn romance, smut and spice

Author's Note: Hope you enjoy this Ghoap fic (am I using that right? Lord I don’t know ship names-) I uh also made Switch!Ghost x Switch!Johnny a thing in this but it turns into Ghost getting dommed-🤭

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The first hint of something more began to stir during an intense training session. You were focused, your attention on Johnny as he attempted to outmaneuver you. His grin was playful, the ever-confident swagger present in every swing and twist, but you were determined not to let him get the best of you.

“Come on, lass! Can’t keep up?” Johnny teased, stepping forward, just barely dodging your last punch.

You smirked, narrowing your eyes. “I’m just getting started, Soap,” you said with confidence, trying to close the gap between you.

Johnny laughed, that familiar sound echoing in the large room. But the sound stopped when you made a quick move, landing a soft punch against his side. He stumbled back, eyes wide with surprise.

“Wha—”

“You were too busy laughing,” you quipped, pride in your voice.

Simon, who had been observing silently from the side, finally spoke up, his voice smooth and firm. “She got you good, Johnny.”

Johnny shot Simon a teasing look. “You’re just jealous that I’m the one she’s sparring with.”

Simon raised an eyebrow, clearly unamused. “Hardly.” But the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips betrayed him.

Johnny leaned against the wall, stretching out his arms and pretending to catch his breath. “Maybe we should see how you handle her,” he suggested, his voice lowering slightly.

Simon shook his head, but his hands moved to adjust his gloves, stepping into the ring with you.

---

Later that evening, you sat together in the quiet of the rec room, a bottle of whiskey resting on the table between you. Johnny sprawled across the couch, his head resting in Simon’s lap, while you settled on the other side. It was an unexpected comfort, the three of you all close but not necessarily needing to speak.

But Johnny broke the silence. “I’ve been thinkin’ about us,” he said quietly, his tone unusually soft.

You turned to look at him, your chest tightening as he met your eyes. “Us?”

“Aye,” Johnny said with a crooked grin, though it wasn’t quite as playful as usual. “The three of us. Don’t know when it happened, but it’s obvious now. I care about you both more than I should. More than is probably allowed.”

Simon’s hand stroked Johnny’s hair, a rare softness in his touch. “There’s no rulebook, Johnny,” Simon replied quietly, his voice steady but warm. “We’re not breaking anything.”

You met Simon’s gaze, a smile tugging at your lips. “I feel the same. We’ve grown close, all of us. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it.”

Johnny’s eyes softened at that, his grin spreading wider. “Good, ‘cause I don’t think I could do this without either of you.”

Without waiting, Johnny shifted closer, lifting his head from Simon’s lap and wrapping his arm around you. You relaxed into him, your head resting against his shoulder.

Simon watched both of you, his gaze intense yet filled with warmth. “We’re in this together,” he murmured, his hand reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch was gentle, his fingers lingering longer than necessary.

---

The days that followed were filled with small, intimate moments. Johnny and Simon began to subtly claim you in ways that made your heart race. They would touch you when you least expected it—Simon’s fingers grazing yours as you passed him, Johnny pressing a kiss to the top of your head when you were lost in conversation with someone else.

One evening, after a particularly grueling mission, you found yourself in the kitchen, preparing a meal for the three of you. Johnny had made himself comfortable at the counter, leaning in to watch you as you chopped vegetables.

“I hope you’re not trying to avoid me, love,” Johnny teased, his voice low as he leaned in closer, his breath tickling your neck.

You smiled, but your heart thudded in your chest as you felt the heat of his proximity. “Just busy, Johnny,” you said, trying to keep your composure.

Simon stood just behind him, arms crossed, his eyes flicking between you and Johnny. There was something in his gaze—something possessive, but not in a way that made you uncomfortable. It was a feeling of ownership, yes, but one that came with deep respect and care.

“You know,” Simon said slowly, his voice darker than usual, “I don’t mind watching, but I do prefer to join in eventually.”

You met Simon’s gaze, a small smirk playing on your lips. “Maybe later.”

Johnny chuckled, his fingers brushing over the back of your hand. “That’s the spirit, love. You’ll find it’s easier when we’re all together.”

Later that night, after the meal was shared, and the conversation flowed effortlessly between the three of you, Johnny nudged Simon. “You ready for the quiet night you promised me?” Johnny asked, his voice lower, his eyes glimmering with something more intense.

Simon raised an eyebrow. “You don’t need to ask me twice,” he said, his gaze flicking to you. “You okay with this?”

You met his gaze, a little flutter of excitement spreading through you. “I’m more than okay.”

---

Later that night of your evening together was one you would never forget. There was an unspoken agreement between you all—no pressure, no expectations, just mutual care and love.

You and Simon had been lying in bed, the soft glow of the moonlight spilling in through the window. Johnny was sprawled across the other side of the bed, facing the two of you, his breath slow and even.

Simon’s hand brushed against your arm, a gentle gesture that spoke volumes. “You okay?” he whispered, his voice like velvet in the quiet room.

You turned toward him, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “I’m more than okay.”

Johnny shifted in his sleep, rolling closer to you both, his face nuzzling into your side. You chuckled softly, brushing your fingers through his messy hair.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Soap,” you teased, smiling down at him.

Johnny grinned up at you, his eyes still heavy with sleep. “Not if you’re all over me like that, love.”

Simon’s hand found yours, threading his fingers through yours in a simple but intimate gesture. He pressed his lips to your temple, murmuring softly, “You mean everything to me.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of Simon’s body beside you, the steady rise and fall of Johnny’s breath, and in that moment, everything felt right.

“We’re in this together,” you whispered back, your heart full.

---

The following day, Simon and Johnny had a moment alone. Johnny leaned against the counter, a slow smile tugging at his lips as he watched Simon prepare coffee.

“You know,” Johnny began, his voice low and flirtatious, “she’s perfect for us, isn’t she?”

Simon, who was busy making his coffee, nodded silently but looked up at Johnny, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “She is.”

Without another word, Johnny crossed the room, closing the distance between them. He stood close behind Simon, his fingers brushing Simon’s shoulder. “I think it’s time we let her know just how much she means to us, don’t you?” Johnny said softly, leaning in closer.

Simon’s fingers stilled on the coffee mug, his gaze meeting Johnny’s. “I’m not one to shy away from that,” he said quietly.

Johnny grinned, then moved in, capturing Simon’s lips in a heated kiss. Simon responded without hesitation, his hands finding Johnny’s waist, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, their bodies pressing together, each touch a reaffirmation of the bond they were forming, a bond that was equally shared between all three of you.

After a long moment, they pulled away, their foreheads resting together. Johnny’s voice was low and teasing. “Think we should go tell her?”

Simon smirked, his voice smooth. “We’ll let her decide when she’s ready.”

“Until she does… do you think something could happen with us?” Johnny asks, leaning into him before they kiss with Johnny’s hands traveling up and down Simon’s body

Simon's eyes darkened with lust as he gazed at Johnny, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, I think something's definitely going to happen with us. The question is, where do we start?" His voice was a low, seductive growl, thick with desire.

Johnny grinned, his own eyes blazing with desire as he pressed himself harder against Simon. "Well, I was thinkin' we could start right here, right now. Ye ken, get a lil' preview of what's to come." His hand slid down to palm Simons's hardening cock through his pants, squeezing it gently.

Simon let out a low groan, his hips bucking into Johnny's touch. "Fuck, Johnny... if you keep doing that, I don't think I'll be able to hold back." His hands found the hem of Johnny's shirt, slipping underneath to caress the firm, muscular planes of his back.

"Then don't hold back, aye?" Johnny challenged, his Scottish brogue thicker than usual. "Take what ye want, Simon. Take what we both want." He captured Simon's lips in a bruising kiss, all teeth and tongue and desperate hunger.

They stumbled back towards the bed, hands roaming and groping, tugging at clothes. Simon ripped off his shirt, tossing it carelessly to the side. Johnny made quick work of his pants, shoving them down his legs. In moments, they were both left in nothing but their boxers, their hard cocks straining against the fabric.

"Lay back, handsome," Simon commanded, his voice rough with lust. "Let me show you what I've been dreaming of doing to you."

Johnny did as he was told, sprawling out on the bed. Simon crawled over him, settling between his spread thighs. He ran his hands up and down Johnny's muscular legs, squeezing and caressing, before hooking his fingers in the waistband of Johnny's boxers.

"Ye want this, don't ye Johnny?" Simon murmured, slowly tugging down his boxers to reveal his thick, hard cock. It slapped against his belly, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.

"Fuck, yes," Johnny groaned, his hips lifting off the bed. "Want to feel your mouth on me, want to fuck your face until you choke on my cock."

Simon smirked, a wicked glint in his eye. "Such a filthy mouth you have, MacTavish. I fucking love it." He leaned down, dragging his tongue up the underside of Johnny's shaft, swirling it around the head before sucking him deep into his mouth.

"Ungh, fuck!" Johnny cried out, fisting Simon's short blond hair as he began to fuck his mouth, his hips snapping up and down. Simon took him deep, swallowing around him, his nose pressed against the coarse hair at the base of Johnny's cock.

They lost themselves in the act, the wet sounds of the blowjob filling the room. Simon worked Johnny over, sucking and licking and fondling his heavy balls, until Johnny was a babbling mess, begging for release.

With a roar, Johnny came hard, his seed shooting down Simons's throat. Simon swallowed it all, licking his lips as he pulled off with a satisfied smirk.

"Fuck, that was just the beginning, love," Simon promised, crawling up Johnny's body to capture his lips in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. "Wait until we get our girl in here. Wait until the three of us are tangled up in the sheets, lost in pleasure, lost in each other..."

He rocked his hips against Johnny's, letting him feel how hard he still was. "Think you can handle that? Think you can handle the three of us, together?"

Johnny grinned, his eyes gleaming with wicked anticipation. "I can handle anything, as long as it's with the two of you. Now, why don't you get that sexy arse of yours up here so we can finish what we started?"

Simon smirked, climbing up their bodies until he was straddling Johnny's waist. "With pleasure, handsome..."

Johnnys's hands roamed over Simons's muscular back, feeling the flex of his muscles as he positioned himself above him. "Ye ken, I've wanted this for a long time, Ghost," Johnny murmured, his Scottish accent thick with lust. "Dreamt about havin' ye beneath me, begin' for my cock."

Simon shuddered, his own member throbbing with need as Johnny's breath hot against his ear. "Fuck, Johnny... you have no idea how badly I've craved this. Craved you." He bucked his hips up against Johnny's, their hard lengths rubbing together through the thin fabric of their boxers.

Johnny captured Simon’s mouth in a searing kiss, plundering and possessing, his tongue delving deep to taste every inch of Simon’s mouth. His hands slid down to grip Simon’s firm ass, kneading the taut globes as he ground their hips together.

Simon moaned into the kiss, his own hands grasping at Johnny’s biceps, feeling them flex and bunch beneath his fingers. The kiss turned more urgent, more demanding, as the need between them grew.

Breaking away, Johnny trailed his lips down Simon’s throat, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. "I'm going to fuck you now, LT," he growled, his voice raw with desire. "Gonna make you feel so good, you'll be beggin' for more."

"Please," Simon gasped, tilting his head to give Johnny better access. "Want your cock inside me, want you to take me hard and fast. Fuck me until I can't think of anything else."

Johnny grinned wickedly, his eyes darkening with lust. "Oh, I'll fuck you alright. Gonna claim this sexy arse of yours, make it mine." In one swift motion, he shoved Simon's boxers down and off, tossing them away.

Simon's cock sprang free, long, hard and thick, the swollen head an angry red. Johnny licked his lips at the sight, reaching out to wrap his hand around the hot shaft. "Fuckin hell, LT... you're so big."

Johnny shuddered, his hips thrusting into Simon's grip. "Gonna fill you up, aye. Gonna stuff your tight hole full of my cock until you're beggin' for mercy."

Simon released him, spreading his legs wider, baring himself completely to Johnny’s heated gaze. "Then take what you want, Johnny. Take me, claim me, make me yours."

With a feral growl, Johnny positioned himself at Simon's entrance, the broad head of his cock pressing against the tight ring of muscle. He pushed forward, slowly, relentlessly, until the head popped inside. Simon gasped, his back arching off the bed.

"Fuck, so tight," Johnny groaned, pushing deeper, inch by hard inch, until he was buried to the hilt inside Simon's hot, silken passage. "Ye feel incredible, baby. Like your arse was made to take my cock."

Simon could only moan in response, his body clenching and fluttering around the thick intrusion stretching him wide. The burn of the initial intrusion faded into a deep, throbbing ache of need. "More," he gasped out. "Give me more, Johnny. Fuck me harder, deeper."

Johnny needed no further encouragement. He drew back until only the tip remained inside, then slammed forward, setting a hard, fast pace as he pounded into Simons's willing body. The headboard slammed against the wall with each powerful thrust, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

Simon wrapped his legs around Johnny's waist, locking his ankles at the small of Johnny's back, urging him deeper, harder. "Fuck, yes! Just like that, Johnny. Don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop!"

Johnny panted harshly, sweat dripping down his face as he rutted into Simon, his heavy balls slapping against Simon’s ass with each snap of his hips. "Fuck, Simon... can't... fuck... gonna come... fuck!"

Simon clenched down hard, his release slamming into him with the force of a freight train. He screamed out Johnny's name as his cock erupted, painting his chest and belly with streaks of thick, hot seed. The sensation of Simon's body spasming around him pushed Johnny over the edge.

With a roar, he buried himself deep and came hard, his cock jerking and twitching as it emptied inside Simon's clutching heat. They collapsed together, both gasping for air, their bodies slick with sweat and spent passion.

"Fuck, that was... incredible," Simon panted out, his arms wrapping around Johnny to hold him close. "I could get used to this."

Johnny chuckled breathlessly, nuzzling into the sweat-damp crook of Simon’s neck. "Aye, ye could say that again." He lifted his head to look down at Simon, his eyes soft with satisfaction and affection. "Ye know, I've never... felt like this with anyone before. Never wanted someone the way I want you... and her."

Simon smiled up at him, cupping his cheek, his thumb brushing over Johnny's lips. "I do know. I feel the same way, Johnny. And I can't wait to make all three of us feel this good, this complete."

"We will, love. Soon as our girl is ready, we'll give her the same pleasure, the same love and devotion that we give each other."

"Can't fucking wait," Simon murmured, pulling Johnny down for a slow, deep kiss. "But for now... how about we take a shower, get cleaned up? Then maybe we can take another go at it, just the two of us."

Johnny grinned, his eyes lighting up at the idea. "I like the way ye think, handsome. A shower sounds perfect right about now. And then we can go talk to Bonnie ‘bout us all.”

With one last kiss, they disentangled and made their way to the bathroom, ready for a thorough cleaning. The road ahead was uncertain, but in this moment, they had each other. And soon, they would have their love too. The thought made their hearts swell with anticipation and love.

---

The following day, everything felt different. Johnny and Simon were closer than before, and it didn't go unnoticed by you. Their interactions were lighter, more natural—there was an ease to their conversations now, a shared joke or a look that spoke volumes between the two of them. Johnny was often leaning closer, his hand brushing Simon's as they worked together. Simon, usually reserved and stoic, would let out the smallest chuckle when Johnny said something offhand, his eyes softening in a way you hadn’t seen before.

As the day wore on, it became apparent to you that the bond between the two men was deepening. She watched them exchange quick glances, their touches becoming more frequent, but each one felt purposeful, as though they were testing the waters. The chemistry between them, while subtle, was undeniable.

You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of something in your chest as she watched the pair. It was a mixture of curiosity and desire, but also a certain confidence that she hadn’t felt before. Maybe you had been too hesitant, too unsure of yourself, but as you observed Johnny and Simon, it clicked. You weren’t a bystander anymore. You are part of this dynamic—part of the connection they were building. And maybe it was time to let yourself be fully immersed in it.

Your decision was made. You couldn’t deny the attraction you felt to both men. They brought out different sides of you, made you feel seen in ways you never had before. The intimacy they shared—whether it was in the quiet moments when Simon would speak low to you, or in Johnny's playful teasing that somehow made you feel special—was something you didn’t want to ignore anymore.

You made your way over to them, catching Johnny's eye first. He gave you a warm smile, the kind that always made your stomach flutter, and you felt yourself draw closer to him. Simon glanced over, meeting your gaze with that intense, unreadable look of his, but there was something softer in his eyes now, a hint of approval.

"You okay?" Johnny asked, his voice low and warm, a trace of concern behind it.

You nodded, then looked from Johnny to Simon, your heart racing slightly. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking... maybe it’s time we... talk. About us. All of us.”

Johnny’s expression softened even more, and Simon seemed to relax, his posture easing as if waiting for you to continue.

“About how we’re... closer now,” you said, your voice firm, yet with a touch of uncertainty as you searched their faces for their reactions. “How I feel about both of you.”

Johnny’s hand found your wrist, gently pulling you a little closer, and Simon shifted slightly in his chair. There was a brief silence before Johnny spoke, his voice laced with warmth, “And how do you feel about us?”

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle over yourself. “I think... I think I want to be with both of you. If you’re both open to it.”

Simon’s lips twitched upward, and Johnny chuckled, the sound low and almost a little breathless. "We're more than open, sweetheart. Just had to make sure you felt the same," Johnny murmured.

Simon stood then, moving closer, his large frame casting a shadow over her as he placed a hand on your cheek, his touch soft and surprisingly tender. "You’re not the only one who's been thinking about this," he murmured, his voice rough with something you couldn't quite place.

As the tension between the three of them shifted, your pulse had quickened. You knew the moment had arrived, and now, it was time to let everything unfold.

Johnny grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement and desire as he pulled you in closer, his hand sliding from your wrist up your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. "We've been waiting for you to realize what we already know - that the three of us are meant to be together."

Simon's thumb brushed over your lower lip, his intense gaze holding yours captive. "You've got no idea how badly we want this, sweetheart. Want you." His voice was a low, seductive rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

Johnny leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from yours, his breath mingling with yours. "Tell us what you want, baby. Tell us how you want us to make you feel, and we'll do it. Anything you desire, it's yours."

Your heart raced, your body trembling slightly as you gazed into Johnny's warm, inviting eyes. You could feel the heat radiating off Simon's body as he stood close behind you, his hand still cupping your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw.

"I want... I want you both," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion and longing. "I want to feel your hands on me, exploring every inch of my body. I want to feel your lips on mine, kissing me until I'm breathless and aching for more."

Johnny captured your mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to claim and possess. He pulled you flush against him, his strong arms encircling your waist, crushing your soft curves against the hard planes of his body.

Simon pressed himself against your back, his large hands sliding down to grip your hips, pulling your bottom against the prominent bulge in his pants. He nipped at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin before he murmured, "We're going to worship this sexy body of yours, baby. Going to touch you until you're writhing and begging for release."

Johnny broke the kiss, his chest heaving as he gazed down at you with lust-darkened eyes. "We're going to give you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams, sweetheart. Going to fill you up in ways you've never experienced before."

Simon spun you around, taking your mouth in a hungry, demanding kiss, his tongue plundering the warm cavern of your mouth. He gripped your ass, squeezing and kneading the firm globes as he ground his hard cock against your belly.

Johnny grasped the hem of your shirt, slowly peeling it up and off, tossing it carelessly to the side. He drank in the sight of your exposed flesh, his eyes roaming over the swell of your breasts, the hardened peaks of your nipples straining against the fabric of your bra.

"Fuck, you're stunning," Johnny breathed, reaching out to reverently cup the weight of your breast, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak. "Can't wait to taste these perfect tits, to suck on your nipples until you're drowning in ecstasy."

Simon made quick work of your bra, unhooking the clasp and tossing it aside, allowing your breasts to bounce free. He dipped his head, taking one aching nipple into his hot mouth, suckling greedily as his hand rolled and plucked at the other.

Johnny captured your mouth again, swallowing your moans and whimpers as Simon lavished attention on your breasts. His hands slid down your back, finding the zipper of your skirt, slowly tugging it down.

Together, they peeled the skirt and your panties off, leaving you bare and exposed before them. Johnny stepped back, his eyes raking over your nude form, his cock straining against the confines of his pants.

"Spread your legs for us, baby," Johnny encouraged, his voice gravelly with desire. "Let us see that pretty little pussy, so wet and ready for us."

You parted your thighs, revealing the glistening folds of your sex, the heady scent of your arousal perfuming the air. Simon's fingers delved between your legs, stroking through the slick heat, circling your clit.

"Fuck, you're soaked," Simon rasped, pushing two thick fingers deep inside your clutching sheath. "Can't wait to feel this tight cunt wrapped around our cocks, sweetheart."

Johnny grasped his rigid shaft, stroking it slowly as he watched Simon finger-fuck you, his eyes blazing with lust. "We're going to fill you up so good, baby. Stretching this pretty pussy, stuffing it full of our cocks until you're screaming for more."

Simon pumped his fingers faster, the obscene sound of your juices filling the room as he fucked into you harder, his thumb rubbing tight circles around your clit. "That's it, sweetheart. Fucking soak my fingers, get them nice and wet. Gonna use all that slick to slick up our cocks before we stuff them inside this sexy little hole."

You could only moan and writhe beneath their ministrations, your body burning with a feverish heat as they touched and teased you. You knew in that moment, you were exactly where you are meant to be - sandwiched between the two men you loved and desired most, ready to fulfill the fantasies they had all been dreaming of.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight 💜

[killerpancakeburger]

Header n dividers by @saradika-graphics + dividers by @gildui

(Don't be fooled by said header, you will only find 80% Soap and 20% Ghost here)

Written in 2nd person. No use of Y/N.

SOAP 🧼

Fics

Bluebeard's wife, Soap x f!Reader, (Reader deals with a creep on base, Soap and Ghost have more... drastic methods than her to solve the issue) (~1k)

I'm the powder, you’re the fuse, Soap x f!Reader (Soap finds out his gf is a mercenary and he likes it) (~2k)

Soap giving you a massage, Soap x GN!Reader (<1k)

Breaking Point, Soap x GN!Reader (You have a breakdown. Soap helps.) (4.3k) hurt/comfort

Another Headache, Soap x F!Reader (Your painkillers failed you, but Soap won't) (1.8k) hurt/comfort

Sleeping Beauty, Soap x f!Reader (Soap refuses to leave your lap) (1.8k) fluff+smut - BLOOPERS

Silver-tongued, Soap x f!Reader (Soap coaxes you into stopping to work) (1.2k) fluff+smut

Knight in shining khaki, Soap x f!Reader (Soap rescues you. By beating the shit out of someone.) (2.7k) hurt/comfort

One man's penalty is another man's prize, Soap x f!fat!Reader (Soap wears booty shorts and does push-ups) (2k)

PULL ME CLOSER, Soap x f!Reader (Soap has a brush with death. You two - finally - confess and make up/out about it.) (5.6k)

BABY SAID, Soap x f!Reader, (Soap providing you with much needed stress relief) (0.6k) smut

Halloween with Soap (blurb)

Virgin (blurb)

Headcanons

Dating Soap (Combatant!Reader)

Soap x Reader PT2

Werewolf!Soap

Working out with Soap

Imagines

Not being able to spend Valentines with Soap in person

Meet Ugly with Soap

GHOST 💀

Fics

Breaking Point, Ghost x GN!Reader (You have a breakdown. Ghost helps.) (3.6k) hurt/comfort

Scary Dog Privileges, 2, Ghost x GN!Reader (Being the Ghost's favorite comes with duties too) (0.8k, 1.3k)

Well-Placed Trust, Ghost x f!Reader (Reader smothers Ghost with her boobs to conceal his maskless face from others) (1k)

Undignified Unmasking (blurb)

Headcanons

Being Ghost's BFF (while dating Soap)

Dating Ghost

Ghost x Reader PT2

Imagines

Sacrifying yourself to save Soap for Ghost's sake

GHOAP 💀🧼

Jealousy Headcanons (Soap + Ghost)

Scary Dog Privileges 3, Ghoap x gn!Reader, (Being the Ghost's favorite comes with duties too) (1.4k) smut/suggestive

Imagine Ghost giving you the Shovel Talk because you’re officially dating Soap

I'm too lazy to list all my blurbs here, but you can find them under the tag #mine, with the rest of my works.

Other fandoms:

MIGUEL O'HARA MASTERLIST

BALDUR'S GATE 3 MASTERLIST

Divider by @vase-of-lilies

[crunchyroaches27]

”You’re safe, pet.” | TF 141 x omega!reader

OKAYYY BEAR WITH ME! I just released a pt2 of the ghoap post I made but I could not help but write this one. It’s fluff and angst and the same time.

PT2 IS OUT!!! https://www.tumblr.com/crunchyroaches27/779527966157897728/pt2-of-omegareader-x-141?source=share

omega!reader is rescued from a Omega trafficking ring by TF141

BACKGROUND INFO

everyone has lil tails and ears (🥺) + Omegaverse AU + they/them pronouns used; Gender neutral + Alphas have pointed canines for marking

there are more characters, like Alejandro but he doesn’t play too much of a major role. He doesn’t deserve to be here

Price is the pack leader. He is an Alpha— the most dominant out of his other mates. His word is absolute law. He likes to regularly scent his pack, it makes him feel reassured that his pack is safe. Price is essentially their cigarette-smoking dad

Ghost is next in line in this chain of command, he is also an Alpha. He is more impulsive than the others and often has to have many restraints, leading to him often being aloof and angsty. Soap likes Ghost, but Ghost is too fucking slow

Gaz is third in line, also an Alpha like the ones before him. He is cool and collected, yet he also is a bit of a rebel— here and there he will challenge Price’s authority and be snarky

And finally, Soap. Poor Soap is at the bottom, being a Beta. Despite not being an Omega, he still carries out monotonous tasks. As the “peacemaker” of his pack, he ensures that all is well between them. That doesn’t mean he isn’t a jackass sometimes. His body scent is fainter, but his scenting abilities are better than the rest bc he is a Beta

In this cruel world made up of Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, there is bound to be danger lurking in every dark alley, every shady nightclub. Over the course of three days, you had seen and felt things you thought would never end. You were used and passed along like a joint. One particular Alpha paid a good fortune for you, and you found yourself dressed in skimpy clothes and drugged with aphrodisiacs. Your pheromones leaked like a pipe. There’s no hope. Why even bother? you thought angstily as you were transported to a new location.

You’d heard of the tragic trafficking of Omegas, but you didn’t expect to experience it firsthand. Omegas have to know every tactic to defend themselves. Your ears drooped in disgust and a sort of disbelief as your body began to enter some sort of stupor; the drugs meant to make you extremely docile and languid were starting to kick in. The sudden sensation of a sharp turn and the screech of wheels snapped you out from your haze. Instead of hearing the usual excited chatter, you heard gunshots. You were too lethargic to even move, so you passed out in your seat. When you awoke, four men surrounded you; three Alphas and one Beta.

You found yourself on a small cot. Three Alphas and one Beta were sniffing your pheromones to deduce your mental, physical, and emotional state. “Aye, Omega’s ‘woken up,” the Beta with the warhawk mumbled. The bearded Alpha hummed. “Hmm. Let’s start with introductions. What’s your name, Omega?” Another Alpha, clad in a skull mask, trilled, seemingly pleased at your arousal (arousal as in the waking up sense!!). “You’re safe, pet. We don’t bite, at least, not unless you want us to.” He jibed with a British lilt once he sensed your fear. His dark-skinned pack mate snorted, rolling his eyes. You could smell he was an Alpha, too.

All of their ears were perked high in expectation, their eyes watching your every move, sniffing every pheromone released into the already stuffy air. “Y/N,” your response made them nod in acknowledgment. “Mm, ‘Kay. We already knew that. Jus’ wanted to see if we got the right person.” The bearded Alpha sighed before continuing. “Well, I’m Price. This ‘ere is Ghost, Gaz on my right, and Soap’s the one in front of ya.” Soap promptly bent down and twinkled at you, his tail wagging. You didn’t even have to ask for their ranks, you could smell it in the bodily fragrances they released— that applied for them too. You could tell that Price, Ghost and Gaz were all Alphas, while Soap was a Beta.

You wondered how they weren't dying to breed you, your pheromones were uncapped and flowing out into the air freely. They must be taking some kick ass suppressors, you surmised. You were, for the lack of better words, glad they weren’t groping your body ravenously. Yet, despite their composed demeanors, glints of wolfish desires were expressed through their eyes. Their tails were rigid and raised.

“We saved you from that trafficking ring— shouldn’t you be more grateful?” Ghost earned himself an elbow pinch from Price. Ghost lowered his ears and grumbled as Gaz snickered. “Omega’s pumped full of drugs. Damnit, they’re barely alive,” Price grunted, his brows knitted— not in regards to Ghost— but at your deplorable condition. “Don’t expect much yet.”

“Soap, call in exfil, we need to go back to base. We need to get this Omega treated.” At Price’s order, Soap’s ears flicked and he soon got to work. “Don’t worry, Omega,” Price murmured, his thick fingers tracing circles on your sunken-in cheeks. He practically melted at the sigh you soughed. “You’re safe, pet.”

One half of you loved his touch, the Omega side that constantly craved the touch and comfort of an Alpha; the other half wanted to flinch back and snarl at it. You’d been touched, and not in a nice way— you didn’t want to bear that again. Yet because Price’s touch was refreshingly compassionate, the former side won.

At the hospital

When you arrived at the base, you were stirred awake by a splitting headache, an after effect of the narcotics. Your vision was bleary but you could tell that you were in an infirmary— and that you were not alone, either.

Ghost and Soap were seated on the chairs adjacent to your little mattress. Their tails were curled curled together as they waited for your awakening. When you finally announced it by clearing your throat, both of their ears shot up in attention and whipped their heads around to face you.

Soap was the first one to detach from the tail-curling and walk towards you, a gentle concern painted onto his face. “Ye feelin’ any better, Omega?” He chuckled at your reply, a tired no. His hands neared to replace the tape covering your scent glands, but then he stopped, seemingly remembering his manners. “Mind if I change ‘em? Not gonna try anything slick,” Soap asked, his icy blue eyes warming themselves for you.

“No,” you croaked. Slowly, he started to strip the tape off, clean your gland, and patch a new piece of tape on. Obviously, your scent had been carried in the air, exciting both Soap and Ghost. You knew Soap had a better nose than the rest. Soap’s pupils had dilated, making you a bit uneasy, “not gonna try anythin’,” he assured you again, smelling your distrust.

“Where’s Price and Gaz?” You questioned, hoping you remembered the name of the two Alphas right. “They’re in Mexico. With a friend; they should be back soon.” Ghost replied, rising to his feet to join Soap. They both assessed you with such focused attention— especially Ghost— making you feel like a piece of meat again. Your ears pinned themselves against your head.

Ghost’s inhaled deeply through his mouth, his breath trembling. He leaned closer towards you, his head tilting to try and whiff up any of your heady pheromones that still lingered in the air from the tape-replacing. Ghost's ears were angled towards you.

Ghost realized what he was doing and promptly gave you your space, as if to prove his salaciousness was kept under control. Or maybe he did it as an apology. "Sorry, just, you smell nice."

Soap hummed in what could be expressed as skepticism.

"Well, I think we should leave 'em to their own devices." Soap said, giving your hand a quick squeeze. He ordered for a glass of water to be delivered to your room before he left with his packmate.

You were left alone with your thoughts. You realized how much of a windfall this was. Out of hundreds of millions, you were saved. You had quite possibly the aid of God by your side. What an occurrence.

Sorry. Didn't really know how to end it, but pt2 will come out fs 😚