#And Gaz and Price will be there too

[starlightvld]

Bait & Switch, pt. 5

<< Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 >>

Based on "I wasn't in that tunnel."

Call of Duty, soapghost // CW: angst, Hurt/Comfort, boys kissing, MWIII spoilers

---

Johnny is floating. For the first time in forever, he feels safe.

Held.

Warm.

He stays in limbo as long as he can, eking out every ounce of comfort from the rare good dream. He knows soon enough he'll wake to an ice-cold cell. Perhaps someone will come to torture him. Or perhaps they'll leave him alone long enough that he'll starve.

Until then, he basks. Digs himself deeper into the warmth pressed against him.

"Easy, Johnny. You've got too many wires pokin' outta you to move around so much."

That voice. He knows that voice.

Soap's eyes pop open to a wall of hospital gown fabric and a sliver of pale skin. Familiar warm arms curl around him a bit more tightly, and his heart stutters.

"G-Ghost?"

"I'm here."

Everything comes rushing back — "waking up" from his drug-induced haze with a knife in his hand, Ghost's initial distrust and coldness, and the revelations about his own actions and the years of his life and bodily autonomy stolen by Makarov...

He remembers Ghost's sudden apology, his vow to help Soap figure out what was going on, and his gentle arms surrounding Soap just like he remembered.

It's a dream. It has to be. Some trick by Makarov.

And yet Ghost is so warm. So strong.

He can't bear the thought of going back now.

"Simon." His voice shakes as the panic sets in, thrashing around inside him and threatening to shred him to ribbons from the inside. "Don't let him take me back. Promise ye'll kill me if ye have to. I can't... I can't... I can't—"

The sob that had been stuck in his throat when Simon first curled strong arms around him and held him close rises up to choke him, but his eyes remain stubbornly dry. He coughs and gags, and Ghost's hands stroke down his back as he murmurs soothing words in Soap's ear.

It doesn't matter. The tears won't come. Crying was weakness to Makarov and especially to his goons, punishable by the worst kinds of torture. As he's done hundreds, maybe thousands, of times before, he begins to float away, dissociating from the pain on instinct, but Simon's hard tone slams him back into his body.

"He'll never come near you again," Simon growls in his ear. "Not as long as I'm alive."

"You... believe I'm me?"

"Your DNA matches the records for John MacTavish. That's good enough for me."

He doesn't have time to process the shock of that revelation before then next one hits him fast and hard.

"And it's good enough for us, too."

The additional voice is so wobbly, Soap barely recognizes it. He lifts his head to find wide, watery brown eyes under a familiar blue hat staring at him over Ghost's shoulder.

"Gaz?" Soap whispers in disbelief.

"Hey-ya, bruv. I brought someone else with me, too."

Gaz steps to the side, and a familiar mutton chops and boonie hat come into view. Price's eyes are dry, but there's a deep sadness his ice-blue gaze as he reaches over Ghost to lay a loose hand on Soap's shoulder.

"Soap... I don't really know what to say beyond I'm sorry. It's good to see you again."

The emotions rise up too high. He feels himself detach from the moment, and without the strong emotions to cloud his mind, all he can think to say is, "Why? Why are ye here? I tried... Ghost said I tried to kill you."

"We're here because it's you, Soap," Gaz says in a gentle but confused tone. "Even if you were still trying to kill us, we'd be here doing our best to figure out how to save you. I just wish..."

"We didn't know," Price says as Gaz trails off. "We should've tried to harder to capture Agent Zero. If we'd known it was you, we would have—"

"Not important," Ghost interrupts. "We're all here now, and we're not lettin' the brass get their hands on you."

"Ghost—"

"No Laswell. He's been through enough. Talkin' is one thing, but no interrogations."

It's too much. The words thrown around Soap devolve into mutters and hums as he detaches from the moment. After his time with Makarov, the dissociation comes naturally. He floats away, and...

This moment is everything he ever dreamed about in those dark days under Makarov's thumb. But it's also overwhelming for someone who hasn't felt a kind touch in literal years. He's so glad Price and Gaz proved him wrong, but it's just... 

So. Much.

"—nny? You awake?"

Ghost's voice calls him back, and like always, he can't resist. Doesn't want to. He flutters his lids, the dryness of his eyes letting him know he'd fallen into himself with this eyes open. No wonder the fingers gripping his back feel a bit desperate. He closes his eyes without meeting Ghost's gaze.

"Aye," he whispers. "Here."

"I think we should let Ghost and Soap rest," Price says with a soft, sad smile. "You've both got a lot of healing up to do."

*

Laswell does what she can, but the brass still insist on sending someone to "evaluate" Soap, whatever that means. The evaluator in question, some Major or another, is set to arrive in three days, and Ghost has already made it known to Laswell that he won't be letting Soap out of his sight.

Normally, Soap would be concerned and might even start down the path of spiraling into a panic attack, but he finds he can't be bothered when he wakes up on his second day in the hospital in a pool of his own sweat. Shivers run up and down his spine, and he groans as the body aches slam into him like a tank. Only Ghost's presence and warmth keeps him from panicking at the too-familiar symptoms.

"They're weanin' you off the drugs," Ghost explains in a calm tone, his hands gently rubbing over Soap's damp back. "Tell me if I'm hurtin' you."

"Doesnae hurt," he slurs. "Feels nice."

Ghost's hands are a lifeline, the touch grounding him to the present. There's no way his brain could concoct such an elaborate dream.

Right?

The beeping of the heart monitor picks up its pace. One of Ghost's hands slides up to smooth over his buzzed hair.

"Johnny? Hey. You're alright, love."

"Is it real?" he gasps as his vision begins to darken. "Are ye real? Please..."

Arms tighten around him. Ghost's lips brush over his temple.

"I'm here. I'm real. Breathe with me, Sergeant."

The title rings through Soap's body like a bell as Ghost takes a deep breath, his chest rising under Soap's cheek. Soap takes a strangled breath, too, desperate to follow his Lt's directions. Desperate to make sure Ghost stays.

"That's it. Another."

They breathe together, and eventually, the darkness fades.

"Sorry," he mumbles into Ghost's chest.

"No reason to be sorry. I'd be more surprised — and worried — if you didn't have a screw loose after everythin' you've been through."

Soap huffs a weak laugh. "Thanks, I think."

"You're already doin' better than I was in your place, though it was only months for me, and not..."

Ghost trails off. He's never really talked about his time with the cartel in Mexico. Soap knows the basics — caught, tortured, escaped — but he doesn't know the details.

Doesn't really need to anymore. 

"I get flashes of stuff here and there," Soap says with a shrug, "but I only remember those first few months clearly. Right up until Makarov started pumping me full of these fucking drugs."

As if on cue, another shiver wracks Soap's body. He can feel the sweat building between them as his body attempts to deal with the withdrawal. And yet he's still so fucking cold.

"Sorry I'm such a scabby bastard right now," he mumbles even as he tries to scoot closer to Ghost's warmth.

"Nowt to worry about. I'm no spring flower myself. They're gonna let me shower today, I think, so I'll make 'em let you, too."

Ghost continues rubbing his hands over Soap's damp back, and his lips press into Soap's forehead. The hands and lips remind him of better times, when they'd steal a few hours whenever they could to learn and relearn each other's bodies while desperately chasing release. Soap dares to lift his hand from between them and curl it around Ghost's waist.

"I missed ye so fucking much."

The words slip out unbidden, barely more than a whisper, but there's no way Ghost doesn't hear them. His hands pause for a moment before moving again to press Soap closer.

"I felt dead without you," Ghost whispers back.

A heaving gasp punches through Soap's lungs. "Ghost—"

Ghost gently pushes Soap back enough that he can look into his eyes. "I mean it. The thought of killin' Makarov was the only thing keepin' me movin'... until now."

Soap can't help himself. He knows he's gross and dirty and was trying to fucking kill Ghost a couple of days ago, but he's desperate for the familiar comfort.

He surges up and presses their mouths together.

It's like a flipping a switch — Ghost goes from gentle and calm to ravenous in a split second. His fingers dig into Soap's neck, pulling him closer, while his other arm crushes Soap around the waist. Their mouths meld together, and Soap clings to Ghost just as hard, yearning to climb inside him and never come out again.

God. God, he wants to never leave the safety of Ghost's arms, his presence, his warmth.

The kiss ends as quickly as it began. Ghost pulls back and presses his lips to Soap's cheek and then his brow, panting breaths wafting across Soap's clammy skin.

"I... fuck Johnny. I'm sorry."

"Why're you sorry? I kissed ye first."

"Because you're not feelin' good."

Soap frowns. "Yer the one with the gunshot wound."

Ghost huffs a breathy laugh. "And I'm feelin' it, too. You should sleep more."

"So should you."

Ghost grunts his agreement. They settle down, and Soap listens as Ghost's breathing evens out. It's a comfort, and he lets himself fall into the rhythmic sounds.

The longer this goes on, the less Soap questions whether it's real and the more he begins to worry about the future.

Soap is pretty sure the higher ups will never send him back to England. They'll wait until Ghost's back is turned, and they'll take him somewhere far away where he can be locked up and interrogated the proper way. Or perhaps they'll try to draw out Makarov by sending him somewhere as bait... along with enough C4 strapped to his back to blow up a building.

Or maybe they'll just kill him outright, deeming him too much of a risk for any of that.

He'll fight it, of course. But he's only one man against the might of the British military. And despite the 141's trust in her, Laswell is the type of person to sacrifice her personal feelings for the greater good. He doesn't want to think she'd give him up, but if sending him in means finally ridding the world of Makarov, he has to accept that, for her, it might be worth it.

Except... Soap can't stop thinking about Ghost's admission. That the goal of killing Makarov was the only thing keeping him moving. And he fears what will happen when he disappears without warning.

And he will disappear. Of that he has no doubt.

So he tightens his grip on Ghost's waist, presses a soft kiss to Ghost's scruffy chin, and basks in the warmth and safety of his lover's arms for as long as he can.

<< Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 >>

[luminni]

I have a feeling Johnny would try and set up Simon with one of his friends

like

“M’ tellin ya mate yer going tae like ‘er,” Johnny teased, bounding a couple steps in front of Simon, turning back to him and rocking back and forth on his heels, hands shoved into his pockets to protect them from the cold. As Price often quipped, the 'scott can't stand still for the life of him.'

“Mhm,” Simon just grumbled in response.

“See mate, That’s the attitude that scares all the girls away.” Johnny commented, hands outstretched and exaggerated.

“Whatever.” Simon huffed, shaking his head. Johnny wasn’t wrong, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done anything with a girl that wasn’t a quick lay, and even then it had been months, not to mention going out on a proper date. Well, a date was a stretch, you were Johnny’s close friend for a couple years. He had heard of you, but never met you and now Johnny was insisting that he go on a date with you because he was convinced it was going to work well, Simon wasn’t convinced in the slightest.

“She’s real nice though- so put away the tough guy act big man- girls don’t like that.” Simon couldn’t believe he was getting dating advice from his sergeant, so he just doubled down and kept scowling but Johnny kept pressing. “I'm telling you she's a real sweet girl, kinda lass who would try tae make a crying baby laugh on the tube or go and feed some mangy stray dog, perfect for a prickly bastard like yerself.”

“Okay okay, Jesus. ’s not like ’m going to scare ‘er off on purpose.” Simon relented 

“You better not, gettin' laid might do ya' some good man, calm yer ass down a wee bit” Johnny chuckled

Simon would have yelled at him for that comment but his friend cut him off, “‘Kay we’re ‘ere,” Johnny chirped, “Gaz and his girl should be inside already and she’ll be ‘ere soon,” Johnny said, pushing his Lt. through the pub door.

Johnny had invited Kyle and his girlfriend for a kind of double date situation because he thought having another girl there would help you feel more comfortable, something Simon couldn’t argue with. Why Johnny’s single ass would be attending was a mystery.

and he's been playing both sides

“Ya like serious guys right?” Johnny had asked you out of the blue, a week or so prior while hanging out at your flat.

“Uh yeah sure? I mean I guess so, more than immature assholes like you.” You had joked back across the small kitchen.

“Well,” He had began, unphased by your teasing, “There’s this guy I work with-”

“Don’t even.” you cut him off

“Wha'?!” he whined

“Don’t try and set me up with one of your military bros,” you warned, “I’m not interested.”

“Jus' 'cause yer last dates 'ave been busts doesnae mean you shouldn't keep tryin’,” He pleaded, catching the sponge you threw at him, “He’s a real good guy, kinda intimidating but you’d like him, promise!”

You glared at him before going back and forth, Johnny was really trying to sell this guy, and he wasn’t wrong, your last three dates had been nothing short of disasters. So, after lots of pleading -and a couple tasteful photos from them at the gym- you agreed. So as you walked closer and closer to the pub, your nerves were buzzing. Just gotta get past his tough exterior is all, Johnny’s words of advice rang through your head. Thankfully he had invited another one of his friends there along with his girlfriend, you would have been hyperventilating if it was just going to be you and some guys. As you reached for the door, you could only hope Johnny was right about this guy.

So, who would be surprised when it actually works out, when Simon actually falls in love with you and your sweet smile at first site. When you find his corny and sometimes morbid jokes genuinely funny, having to cough around your drink to prevent spitting it out.

Johnny's just happy Simon might finally chill out, and he won't have to listen to you complain about failed dates every other week.

[buttdumplin]

yeah simon is the one to scare people away when they get too close you, using his size and movement to intimidate, simultaneously shielding you behind him

yeah soap is the one barking loud, creating a spectacle and calling people out, and warning them away

yeah kyle is the one humiliating people, mocking offenders until either their own actions dawn on them or they finally recognize the venom in his eyes

but price is the one that launches into swinging. there is no warning, no hesitation. taking a step, even a single word against you, warrants immediate action in his mind. it's no laughing fucking matter. you are a top fucking prize, his prize, the best the world has to offer. john is rabid in his protection, bearing tooth and boot and claw and fist. there’s no point in talking to him or trying to negotiate, an offense is an offense and he won’t meet it halfway. someone looks at you the wrong way? they won't be able to see out of swollen eyes after headbutts them, crushing their nose. someone whispers something nasty about you? good luck even eating with that jaw wired shut. god forbid someone touches you, the other three boys can barely hold him back. john will break countless bones in every way he knows and beat his knuckles bloody if your smile starts to drop. 

[ghostedbunnie]

mmm my brain is buzzing with an idea of knight! ghost stumbling upon a carriage getting robbed late at night. appearing like a monster that mothers warn their kids about when they misbehave, mask covering his face and after the bloodbath finishes and no one is left standing but him, he let's out a sigh before making his way to the carriage, one of the window is broken but the heavy curtains are drawn.

when he opens the door he doesn't expect to have the curtains thrown in his face and an absolutely feral maid trying to cut him with the shard of the window held so tight in her shaky hand that the other side cuts deep into her palm. something clicks in place for ghost in that moment, this little cornered thing protecting her mistress with ferocity of a tiger but with fear oozing out of her every pore.

with something that resembles a snort he knocks the shard out of her hand and pulls her out by the scruff as if she truly is just a little kitten showing her claws and he is finding it extremely amusing. the mistress is less of a fighter, he finds, it took one look at him all bloody and dark a picture straight out of nightmares and she passed out on the spot.

with the maid fighting him every step of the way he manages to bring them to his master, his king. turns out the mistress is a princess that was travelling to marry the king and for saving her life, he deserves a gift. anything of his choosing. anyone.

the maid could feel a cold sweat drip down her back when for the first time since they travelled together she heard his voice (she believed his vocabulary was made up of grunts and growls) when he pulled her in with his heavy gloved paw on the back of her neck, "I'll take 'er."

edit: full fic here

[guhbwuh2]

based on this

[rejectedbytheempty]

one bed trope w the 141 (except it’s not romantic)

price sleeps with his arms folded over his chest, hat tucked over his eyes. weirdly, it seems like he doesn’t move at all when he sleeps, and maybe you would think he was dead if not for the horrendous snoring he does.

ghost doesn’t sleep well, and he certainly doesn't like sharing beds with anyone. he’d rather sleep on the floor or just disappear for the night, coming back at the ass crack of dawn to stand ominously at your side of the bed with a cup of coffee for you.

gaz has a whole bedtime routine, especially when he has access to running water and a single person bathroom. finally gets to bed after an hour of skincare and hair care, but he smells so good you can almost forgive the fact that he almost pushed you off the bed in the middle of the night.

soap is a crazy sleeper, and that’s a fact. he’s all over the bed, one second he’s hugging you like some kind of oversized teddy bear and the next he’s somehow turned himself around and his feet are in your face. even worse, he snores almost as bad as price. no one wants to sleep with soap.

[gengangare]

Group shot 📸

[sgt-tombstone]

the comedic potential of Simon Riley’s middle name being John is unparalleled

He doesn’t tell anyone at first, but it’s definitely why he calls Soap “Johnny” and Price by his last name or rank only, because it’s weird that two of his teammates have the same name as his middle name

When Gaz finds out, he’s livid. The 141 is 75% John; he can’t fucking get away from them. Price points out that his name is actually Jonathan, thinking he’s being helpful (he’s not) and Johnny thinks it’s the funniest thing in the world

Simon seriously considers a legal name change just to keep the peace; he’s always loved the way John Riley sounds, but the ring in his dresser will make sure he hears that particular combination for the rest of his life

[mausinly]

i wanna see these big scary men get all flustered, give em a taste of their own medicine

Thinking about cod men with the most s/o of all time that is just so so tender with them and is so soft and kisses them so so good just like they deserve.

Thinking about cod men with an s/o that doesn't hesitate to tell them how pretty they are and will hold and caress them in a heartbeat, watching as their big bad military man melts in their arms.

Thinking about cod men that feel tears brim their eyes as their darling cups his head in their hands, their thumbs ever so gently brushing over his cheeks as they pepper kisses all over his face.

Their s/o makes sure to kiss every scar, every blemish and imperfection, everywhere but his lips until he murmurs how much of a tease his darling is. Only for their lips to meet in the most tender, passionate kiss he's ever received in his life, followed by loving whispers in the dark of night only for him to hear.

[gomzdrawfr]

GO GO GO

[temeyes]

sick bois

[luminni]

Kyle when talking about the rest of the 141

[ramvur]

raise crows and they'll gouge your eyes out

[shit-talker]

The 141 have a ridiculous run of inside jokes that is continuosly ruining their lives, such as;

1.) If someone says, "You love it really," to you, you immediately have to agree with them, no matter what the circumstances. Otherwise, you lose the ability to do it back. This has resulted in many weird fake confessions, including one time in which Soap got fed up with people making your mom jokes at him and went on a rant about it. Ghost glanced at him in front of a room full of cadets and just went, "You love it really, though," and Soap almost died as he sadly nodded and replied, "Yeah, I do."

2.) If something even remotely sexual sounding is said about you, you must always say, "You're damn right I do/am/will," back. This backfired once when they were in a defreif and Price said something about Gaz "coming through the back door" and Gaz, without think, winked and replied "You're damn right I did," In front of everyone and got in trouble for mild insubordination. (The others almost died laughing as he realised what he'd done, who he'd done it to, and who he'd done it in front of (aka Price's bosses))

3.) When talking about Roach, they will always act like he's died. He hasn't, but none of them can stop the joke, and it always makes all of them crack up, even Roach. This once caused major panic, as once when Ghost was discussing their latest mission with Laswell, he said, "It was fine because Roach - God rest his soul -" and Laswell had about two minutes where she thinks Roach has dropped dead and she didn't fucking know.

4.) They will always make up bad stories for how they met Ghost, if anyone ever asks. It doesn't matter what the truth is, or who they're speaking to, when asked, all three of them will reply with some made up, overly dramatic or down right boring story on how they met. These stories ranged from Ghost, saving them from a shark attack (Gaz), Ghost selling them assorted drugs as a teenager (Roach), and most devastatingly is when Soap told a distant relative of his that he met Ghost after "finding him with my older brother, behind his wifes back" he does not have an older brother, and so there is no wife.

5.) They always reference the "Malibu incident." None of them have ever been to Malibu. Nothing bad has ever happened there, but now they've created a whole conspiracy in the British Army about a coverup that happened in Malibu. Price knows about this one and finds it endlessly funny, so he goes along with it, never directly mentioning it but refusing to deny it when someone asks. If anyone ever asks about the details of it, they just give a deadpanned look as if the other person should already know and say; "Don't make me say it." There are rumours. Like, a lot of rumours.

6.) Roach claps every time someone says, "I'll be there for you" because once he clapped at the wrong time during the friends intro and had been paying the price ever since. It doesn't happen often, but sometimes you'll just hear him clapping - not even in the tune to the friends theme. Just random clapping. If any of the others hear it, they almost always reply with "That's a fuckin' joke" in a really disappointed tone. It's confused a lot of people.

[meowpupp]

Hi , im here with a thought, i can just imagine puppy reader crying to price about what kyle did and how she was just curious and she didnt really wanna disobey and to please not get rid of her and stuff like that , so kyles punishment is eating the reader out just exactly as price wants , price i feel like is more aggressive and less forgiving towards kyle compared to reader , i feel like price has that "nothing is your fault ♡" attitude for his sweet pup

pt1

owner!price x chubby!puppgirl x pup!kyle

tw//: p in v, oral (fem reciving), hybrid receiving, collars, rough sex, slight mention of overstim, fem reader, collars, probably my most filthy smut yet

prices heart breaks as you cry into his chest, clinging onto him tightly. in all his time with you, hes never seen you so distraught. your body is almost shaking, tail low and ears pulled back as you sob and babble. he just holds you tight, rubbing a big hand firmly up and down your back. “Shhh, s’okay pup. Talk t’me when youre ready, okay?” 

It takes almost ten minutes, tears still spilling down your face as you pull back to look up to him. “please, m sorry captain. i didnt mean t’break the rules,” your words are interrupted by uncontrollable hiccups and stutters, hands gripping his shirt tightly, “please sir, please don get rid of me. i promise ill be good!! wont ever break the rules again, please!!!” you break down into a fit of sobs again, whimpering into his chest as he holds you tight.

He easily lifts you up, your body melting into his as he sits you ontop him. you now straddle his lap, burying your face into his neck. its almost sweet, how youre so desperate for his comfort despite your expectation of rejection. price just holds you tight, hands firm and secure on your body, breath steady and soothing. once you calm, he slowly pulls the story out of you. every little detail. 

he tries to hide the way his face darkens as you speak, his eyes narrowing as you explain what kyle had done. once youre done, he sighs, hands still rubbing circles on your back. he glances over your shoulder, eyes lingering on the garage door. 

“stay here, okay? Be a good girl f’me and strip. kyles gonna say sorry for bein so mean.” with a kiss on your forehead, he lays you down on the couch, leaving you to follow his instructions. 

within ten minutes he returns, not even glancing at you as he enters. his eyes are trained on kyle, watching him closely. a leash is clipped to his sprenger collar. a new addition. 

he forces the other pup to kneel at your feet, hands forceful and grip rough. kyle is huge, broad-shouldered and muscular, looming over you between your spread legs, his eyes trained on your pretty cunt. you can almost see him drool, licking his teeth as he looks over your exposed body as if wanting nothing more than to grip onto plush waist and bury himself 9 inches deep. 

youre snapped back into reality as price tugs harshly on kyles leash, making the collar dig into his neck. “Speak, mutt.” the tone of his voice almost makes you curl into yourself. he sounds vicious, angrier than youve ever seen him. 

kyle eyes meet yours for the first time, “im… sorry.” he mumbles half-assed. you can tell hes itching for your soft body. its almost torture having you spread out for him, yet denied the permission to touch. 

price almost growls as he tugs the leash harder, causing kyles eyes to widen for a moment. “fuck, im sorry, i swear.”

price lets out a huff, pushing kyles head down, making him come face to face with your pretty cunt. “Show her, mutt. Apologise properly.”

its almost instant the way kyle buries his head in you. his hands wrap around your thighs, pulling you flush to his face. his nose bumping your clit as drinks in your slick. its perverted, the wet noises that fill the room, the way he groans as ruts into the couch as he devours you. 

price doesnt allow him an inch of space, denying him reprieve from your drooling cunt. his voice cuts through the mix of moans, directing kyle exactly what to do. telling him how fast, how slow, whether to suck your clit or thrust his tongue. hes almost cruel, tugging kyles collar harshly each time he doesnt listen, leaving angry red marks around his neck. 

but to you? well, how could he ever be mean to his sweet girl? a calloused hand cups your cheek, his low, growly voice talking you through your nth orgasm. he kisses your forehead, letting you hold his free hand tightly as your legs shake and your hips buck, your voice filling the room as you cry out. 

its only once kyles face is completely covered in your slick that he lets the pup pull away. hes panting, cock straining against his pants as he aches for release. kyles eyes meet prices, desperate and needy. “Captain, please, fuck,” his hands twitch as they hold your thighs, resisting the urge to pull your twitching cunt closer, “let me fuck her, ill make her feel so fucking good, have her screaming for you-” 

hes cut off, eyes wide as price harshly grips his jaw. “When are you gonna learn?” price reaches down, palming kyles growing tent, making the pup whine, “shes not yours to fuck.” he lets go, pushing kyle to the ground, denied and throbbing. 

price makes him watch as he gently picks you up, pulling you once again into his lap. your back presses to his chest, legs hooked around his knees, forced to spread. Price is quick to unbutton his pants, sinking you down on his fat dick. you can feel his hot breath tickle your neck as he laughs, finding amusement in the way your back bows as he forces himself deep inside you. 

his hands trail up the curve of your waist, coming up to cup your tits. he squeezes the fat, grinning as it bulges between the gaps of his fingers. you can both hear kyles whines, eyes trained on you as price starts to toy with your nipples for a moment. “moan for me pretty girl, let him hear how good i stretch out your tight fuckin cunt, how your pretty body belongs t’me.” his beard tickles you as his lips brush your neck, “bounce f’me pup, show kyle what hes missing out on.”

the roll of your hips is hypnotising, kyles eyes wide as he drinks in the sight. your tits slightly jiggle each time you come down, your thighs spread wide as price shows off your swollen cunt. “see that kyle? how she takes me?” price reaches out, gripping kyles arm and pulling. he lands with his cheek pressed against the soft pudge of your tummy, able to feel as price fills you with each thrust, “feel that?” price fucks up harder into you, making your body jolt as you squeak, “thats only for good fuckin pups.” 

he pushes kyle away again, leaving him to fall onto the floor, cock throbbing and aching as he watches your pretty cunt get ruined by your rightful owner <3

[alnilaem]

Ghoap saving their cute little neighbour from her big bad boyfriend, but when she looks up at them with her pursed brows and big wet eyes and puckered lips wrapping around “thank you, thank you,” Ghoap get their wires crossed and spring an aching boner and decide they should keep her. just for a little longer. they’re entitled to her, anyway. she’s indebted to them, and the space between them at night has gotten a little cold.