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bitterrfruit · 3 months ago

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he wakes you up

waking up hungover after letting a cocky scottish stranger spend the night. indie sleaze!Soap x reader, no cw. 1.4k words, mdni an: never posted a part 2 to my old fic trainspotting, but i wrote a good chunk of it. sleazy brow ring johnny is still close to my heart so i thought i'd share a bit of it <3

You wake up slowly, sweatily, mouth dry and fuzzy like you had swallowed a lump of cotton – so delirious, for a moment, that you expect to hear your mother calling for you to hurry up or you’ll miss the bus.

No, instead, you hear the sparkling white noise of running water. Can’t be rain, because the sun beams brightly through your open window – directly onto your face, blinding you, sending you spinning as you tug your thin pillow and hold it over your head to shield yourself.

Groaning, your brain throbs swollen and heavy, your skull an iron vice. You force yourself to sit upright, hoping your feet on the ground will calm the swelling nausea, turbulent in the pit of your stomach. It doesn’t.

Bathroom. Bathroom.

You leap out of bed, sprinting to the door of the Jack-and-Jill bathroom that separates your and Katie’s bedrooms. Throwing it open, you tumble to the toilet, hair unfortunately coating the toilet seat as your abdomen lurches noisily – tossing a pitiful spoonful of pink, cherry-flavoured vomit into the clear water with a foul splash. Ew.

The shower is running, you realise, in the subsequent post-puke calm. You would have expected Katie to say something to your intrusion, but after a year of living together you have very few boundaries left. You wonder what time she might’ve come home during the night – suppose the bloke she went home with must have been a disappointment if she didn’t even stay till morning. No surprises there.

You hear the thud of the shower lever and the water shuts off. After a few deep breaths, you build up the strength to apologise for barging in, sitting on your knees on the tiled floor.

“Sorry – hic – couldn’t hold it in,” you burp, rubbing your forehead, tearing off a piece of loo paper to wipe your nose. “How was–”

“Mornin’, hen,” comes the low voice of a man, tired and gravelly. “How ye feelin’?”

Not fucking Katie.

You cock your head back in shock, swiping your matted hair from your face, as your eyes shoot to the polyester shower curtain being tugged open with a screech.

Hairy legs jut out from the cubicle, big feet land on the shaggy bathmat. Your eyes follow them upward, thick thighs, rippling muscle under a layer of flesh and furry skin. Until your stare hitches on the cock hanging brazenly from a fine carpet of brown curls – thick from base to tip, uncircumcised but its meaty pink head exposed, a hefty vein running down the length of it. Looks heavy even soft.

You choke on any words you might be able to utter – jumping from shock, to fear, to awe, back to confusion. Who…

“Eyes up here, bunny.” He teases you, that gruff voice barely familiar.

A response suddenly comes to you, remembering it vaguely, and your lips form the words as if it were a realisation.

“They’re just as pretty,” you croak, staring into the void of space before you finally glance at the man’s face.

The shaven head, the brow ring, the glint of that golden tooth sparkling from the cocky smile that puckers dimples into his cheeks – now, yes, you somewhat remember him.

“Ah, good. Y’do remember.”

Suddenly humiliated, realising how much of a fucking mess you must be – you look down at yourself, seeing your vastly oversized Strokes band tee that you do not remember putting on. Nor do you remember getting out of the miniscule body suit you had worn to the party, nor peeling off the fishnets that had been flossing you from front to back for the duration of the blurry evening.

There’s probably makeup smudged into racoon-like circles around your eyes, there must be smears of your pink lip-gloss in the corners of your mouth. If you weren't so ill, you'd run and hide from him.

“Did I-” you stammer aloud, attempting to connect the dots. “Were you at the party?”

He tuts, huffing disappointedly, as he reaches for the yellow floral towel hanging on the rail. Katie’s towel.

“Och, dear,” he grunts facetiously, as he rubs it vigorously over his head, patting under his chin, chest, arms. Doesn’t seem to bother asking as he uses it to dry his balls, mammoth dick flopping around shamelessly as he does so. Your cheeks burn pink.

“You weren’t?”

“If I’m honest, hen,” he remarks, as he ties the towel nonchalantly around his hips, tucks it in just above his mound. Still brandishes that happy trail, and the sharp angled creases below his abs that carve from his hips to his cock. “Ye got me feelin’ a bit guilty.”

“Why?” You swallow, doing your best to stop ogling him like a little animal. “Did we…”

He snorts. “You wish.”

You frown, suddenly failing to suppress the admonishing smirk that curls in your lips. “We didn’t do anything?”

He shrugs, rubbing the top of his buzzed head with his palm. “We had a wee bit o’fun,” he admits, a twinge of shame in his rumbling throat, “but no, nothing too regrettable.”

You find yourself weirdly disappointed. “Why not?”

And your slightly dissatisfied query seems to lift some weight from his shoulders, he returns with a grin. “You were a bit steamed, hen,” he says. “would’ve been dodgy of me to stick it in ye while y’were like that, eh?”

“Mm,” you nod, concealing your chagrin, the memory of running into him on the road suddenly flies back to you, colliding with you like a slap.

A complete stranger. Naked (mostly) in your bathroom.

“Didn’t expect you’d be such a gentleman,” you gripe, a tad facetious.

He smiles. “Disappointed, are ye?” He jibes, tilting his head. “Y’were definitely disappointed last night. Poor wee thing. Got all whiney.”

You flush hot as that memory slithers back to you, too. Cheeks aren’t the only thing that burn at the thought. You suddenly harken back to the weight of his palm on your cunt, the mocking pressure of the heel of his palm grinding against your clit. Your stomach drops at the memory.

“Did not,” you murmur.

“Uh-huh,” he chuckles at you, sauntering in your direction, he holds out a hand for you. You smile bashfully as you take it, and he lifts you to your feet so deftly you’re almost lifted into the air. “Feelin’ alright?”

You’re a little dizzy after standing so quick, you blink heavily as you swallow. “Mm. Been better,” you huff, “I probably look like shit.”

He frowns at that, tutting in disapproval as his raffish eyes linger on your lips – you lick them, worried there might be a speck of residual puke in the corner of your mouth.

“Ye’re havin’ me on,” he chides, disapproval in his tone.

“Am I?” You groan, wiping under your eyes with your fingertips in the hopes of swiping away some running makeup.

He shakes his head. “Far too pretty to be talkin’ like that, bunny.”

With a grimace, then a snicker, you glance downward at the chipped pink glitter on your toenails. “That’s nice, but–”

“Psh,” he immediately cuts you off. “Don’t y’believe me?”

Reeling in awkward embarrassment, you cross your arms, digging nails into your biceps as you look everywhere but him. Through a strained chuckle, you answer, “Not really.”

His attention is almost intimidating; an unwavering, low-lidded glare as a smirk tugs in his lips. Tucks a hooked finger under your chin, coaxing your head to lift just slightly enough to look along your nose at him.

From his throat, he rumbles,

“Need me to show ye how pretty y’are, hen?”

Your skin turns molten, glowing and pliant, eyes glossy and eager as you stare up at him through clumped lashes. He simply wears that snide little grin, proud of himself, only growing prouder as he notices how flustered he’s made you. Fuck!

Lips part to let words free but they turn sticky on your tongue, and he brushes your chin with his thumb.

“Look at’cha,” he sneers, letting go of your face; using the tip of his thick finger to sweep a rogue hair from your forehead with a gentleness that you’re earnestly surprised he’s capable of. His tenderness is fleeting, though, because he chuckles; “Too easy.”

Jaw agape, you only laugh as you cover your eyes with your palms. “God, you’re such a dickhead.”

He hums, a giggle, swaggering around you before swinging a quick smack on your ass, making you yip – casual and in passing, such a brash show of lude badinage that you can only gawk at him as he wanders into your room.

“S’why you invited me in, in’t it?”

Crossing your arms, you follow him sheepishly, squinting as you step into morning sunlight. “I don’t think I can remember why I invited you in, to be honest.”

“Mm, well,” he grumbles, “I’ll have t’remind ye, won’t I?”

#love u cocky boy #john soap mctavish x reader #cod smut #call of duty fanfic #soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish smut #soap x reader

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bollywoodirect · 6 months ago

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26 Years of Dulhe Raja (10/07/1998)

Dulhe Raja is a comedy film directed by Harmesh Malhotra starring Govinda, Raveena Tandon, Kader Khan, Johnny Lever, Prem Chopra, and Asrani. Songs by Anand Milind and Sameer.

Johnny Lever received the Filmfare Best Comedian Award in 1999 for the movie.

#bollywoodirect #bollywood #dulhe raja (1998)#harmesh malhotra #govinda #raveena tandon #kader khan #johnny lever #prem chopra #asrani #anand milind #sameer

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 1 year ago

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Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 39

Part 1 Part 38

Will’s heartbeat picks up when someone knocks on the front door. Even though Demogorgon’s don’t knock, and bad men with guns probably don’t either. He stays curled up on the couch while Jonathan goes to open the door.

The voice that drifts in from the front door makes his shoulder relax.

“Johnny boy!” Eddie calls, pushing into the house like he owns the place, Steve trailing in his wake. Eddie looks around, eyes wide. “Woah, this place cleans up nice.”

Mom and Jonathan had picked up all the furniture, cleaned all the debris from the linoleum, and packed away all the Christmas lights into boxes they’d stuffed into the garage. Neither of them had let Will help, so he’d sat on the couch, doodling pictures of Steve and Eddie as they worked around him.

“Thanks?” Jonathan says, awkwardly shuffling on his feet.

Steve smiles at him, “hey, man,” he says, bumping their shoulders together companionably before slinking past him to sink down onto the couch.

Will reaches out to snatch Steve’s hand, notices the fine tremors running through it. There’s sweat beading on his forehead, standing out starkly without his hair to mask it.

“Are you okay?” Will asks.

Steve smiles over at him, “I’m fine.”

“Actually,” Eddie says, clapping his hands together enthusiastically before wincing and shaking out his fingers, “We just came from physical therapy, and someone,” he pauses to make squinty eyes toward Steve, “could use some food to make up for the calories.”

“Eddie,” Steve sighs.

“No,” Eddie says, crossing his arms, “the doctor said you needed to eat to like, fix your body and shit.”

“I’ll, uh, go grab some sandwiches,” Jonathan says, scurrying into the kitchen and away from the conflict.

“I’m hungry,” Will murmurs, even though they’d had breakfast late and he’s really not.

Steve slumps into him, head lolling onto his shoulder as he groans pitifully. “God, there’s two of you now.”

Will giggles, cheeks warm at the contact.

“How tragic,” Eddie says, slumping down on Will’s other side, reaching over him to run his hand playfully over Steve’s head, avoiding the stitches. “Two people care about your wellbeing? Whatever will you do?”

Steve slumps further into Will, shaved head scratchy where it’s rubbing against Will’s chin. Eddie pushes him down, gently onto Will’s crossed legs. Steve grumbles but lets himself be shoved.

“There,” Eddie says. “Now we can feed you like the wilting princess you are.”

Steve scowls, eyes drifting between both of them as he mutters, “Whatever, dude,” before he seems to droop, eyes closing.

They sit quietly, waiting for Jonathan to come back. Will settles into himself, enjoying the way his skin isn’t crawling, the way it only seems to when he’s with Steve and Eddie.

It’s like, now that he’s met them, the shadows only fully recede when they’re in sight. That crawling thing inside him stops trying to get out.

Jonathan looks surprised when he gets back, plates full of sandwiches stacked on top of one another. He puts them on the coffee table, eyeing Steve. “Should we, uh, wake him?”

“’m not asleep,” Steve mumbles, levering himself up with a wince. He, notably, doesn’t open his eyes until Eddie grabs one of the sandwiches and curls his fingers around it.

He eats slowly, sedately, and seems to doze off again, a quarter of the way through. Will pulls the sandwich from his fingers and puts it back on the plate.

Eddie puts the remains of his own sandwich on top of it, pushing Steve gently down onto the couch, gently placing the throw from the back of the couch over where he’s curled into a ball.

“Is he okay?” Jonathan asks quietly.

Eddie’s brows furrowed as he looks down at Steve, but he smooths it out by the time he looks back up. “He’s fine,” he says, ironically echoing Steve’s own words, like covering up each other’s raw edges comes by rote. “Physical therapy just seems like a lot.”

Steve’s legs are now in Will’s lap. He clutches Steve’s ankles, cuddling them into his stomach.

“Guess we’re staying here for a bit,” Eddie says nonchalantly, but he’s biting his lip and darting his eyes between Jonathan & Will like he’s waiting to be kicked out.

Will clutches Steve’s ankles tighter, looking over at Jonathan as well. Jonathan shrugs, “Sure,” he replies. “Mom’ll be overjoyed. She’s pretty much adopted you both into the family.”

Eddie looks down, at Steve’s sleeping face, biting his lip. “Oh.”

Will thinks of Uncle Wayne, and the way Eddie’s Mom or Dad weren’t ever mentioned, not even once. He thinks about the conversation he’d overheard his Mom having with Hopper, that Steve couldn’t go home alone, and the way Steve hadn’t seemed to want to call his parents at all. Even in trouble. Even in Hell.

Well, they’ve got three more family members now, whether they like it or not.

And Jonathan’s right – Mom is happy when she gets home to find two teenaged boys passed out on her couch. She makes her special occasions lasagna, and the smell seems to rouse both boys from their prolonged nap.

It’s a quiet dinner. Mom asks gentle, probing questions about Steve’s health, and when everyone’s thinking of going back to school. Steve waffles around the conversation, blushing and turning awkward every time Mom turns the power of her care onto him.

Eddie seems to bloom with it, though, talking about getting back into D & D, and his band, and his plans to corral Steve into staying home at least for the rest of the week.

By the time they leave for the night, Will’s belly and heart are both full. Still, the shadows creep back in.

Will goes to sleep, alone in his bed, shivering from the cold, clawing thing inside him.

Part 40

#steddie upsidedown au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #will byers #my fic

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thewriterg · 10 months ago

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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧’ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 chp.4

pairing(s); simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader, johnny ‘soap’ mactavish x fem!reader, kyle ‘gaz’ garrick x fem!reader, john ‘bravo six’ price, werewolf!soap, harp crow hybrid!gaz, dragon hybrid!price, wraith!hybrid (?) ghost, phoenix!hybrid (?) reader

summary; holding out, threats, and a thumping tail

word count; 2.4k+ | chasin’ chaos masterlist

warning(s); monster au, dark twisted themes, normal cod violence, firearms, knives, combat, pinning (?), poly themes, death, r call sign is flatline, blood consumption, eventual smut, kissin, and language

A/n: thank you all so much for 1.9k it means everything under the sun to me!

Your view is slightly perched from the position you’re in on Price's back, legs wrapped around his torso. You have an arm wrapped around his neck, applying no real pressure on his airway. The palms of your captain and fellow lieutenant are pressed against each other trying to over power the opposite. Ghost dressed in a sleeveless hoodie that allowed you to see his hulking scarred arms, gray cargos you'd only seen him in a handful of times, and a black balaclava with his trademark painted on the front.

“You two holdin’ out on me?” The brunette smirks teasingly his full beard adorning his face, shoulders slightly shaking in response to the pressure being applied against them. The dragon and the wraith are practically nose to nose with one another and both you and Simon have your own responses to the question

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Captain.”

“Don’t want you pulling anything, old man.”

John huffs out a laugh and averts his eyes over his shoulder at you for a second and it’s all the time Ghost needed to throw a kick to his lower abdomen. The brunette throws you off his back with the flap of his stray wing while you take the opportunity to swiftly slither yourself between his legs back on your feet in a snap next to the blonde's side.

Your eyes slightly widen when your captain goes to open his mouth and before his languishing flames can reach your body, shadows make a mock wall In front of you blocking your figure from the heat. The wraith can feel you take a hold of his shadows, a sense of familiarity falling over his underwhelming sense of adrenaline. You’re soon taking your wrist and yanking it down as if pulling on a lever. Neither Price or Ghost were aware of what you’d done until the brunette was falling towards the padded rink floor. You’d had one of the blonde’s Infamous shadows wrapped around Price's ankle covered by his steel toe boots, the smoky black littered with electrifying orange and yellow sparks. The dragon’s bottom breaks his fall and he goes down with a grunt before settling his eyes on the two of you.

"Well now, aren't you two a sight? " Prices gruff voice falls over the empty gym, a flirty underline to it that was somewhat difficult to catch from the older man unless you’ve heard it multiple times before. You and Simon stand next to each other's usual balaclavas that rested on your faces absent. The wraith has shadows crawling up his bare arms resembling veins all too accurate. His eyes aren’t quite pitch black but a dark gray blending in well with his eye black, while smoke floats from the slits of his eyes past his temples. Your frame on the other hand has altered just as much however not at such an intensity. Your eyes are light reddish orange, there's cracks running up your arms and the back of your hands like a shattered porcelain doll, a glowing yellow orange burning through them each individually. Your face matches your arms, those cracks spreading from your temples to your cheekbones and from your forehead to above your brow engraved like lightning streaks.

“Yeah, real head turners.” Ghost huffed sarcastically, helping Price up off his position from the mat. The dragon grunted at the quick change in position and patted the wraith on the back with gleaming eyes and a quirk of his lips

“That’s for damn sure” The two begin to exit the rink seeing you happen to be steps ahead. You're dressed similarly to them both with: camo cargo pants, steel toe boots, and a forest green tank top. The sight was close to heavenly and by the others' faces the men could tell the other was not so joyful you had covered yours.

💌💌💌💌

“Missed seeing you in action, Captain.” The lieutenant hummed lowly in the back of his throat even though it sounded more like a grunt passing John a cold thermos of water. It was the closest the hybrid would get to a ‘I missed you, I missed being around you, and stop having so much damn paperwork even though it’s your job.’ And the Captain took it all without complaint while the solider took a seat next to him.

“Trust me, I hate being chained to the desk as much as you do” He responded sipping on the water with a sigh of contentment, watching as you stretched in front of them. Your legs are stretched as far as you can get them beside you hips, you have you stomach pressed to the ground with your arms stretched flat in front of you, while your tank top is slowly rising up your lower back showing the peak of a deep yet healed scar going up your spinal cord, and Price finally looks away at the sight of it.

“How's the shoulder old man?” You question when you're finally off the ground, watching Ghosts mask arch in your peripheral indicating that there was a quirk at his lips. You thought it was even more humorous how John responded without a bat of an eye.

“Tight but that’s nothing new” He grunts, leaning slightly towards the side his stray wing was on with a hand thrown over his hip.

“You two have been interlocking shadows and cosmic energy more often” The captain notes taking more water from the chilled thermos while you and your fellow peer lock eyes for a split second before they strayed away. You’re already taking a sip of your water bottle leaving the skull masked man to answer the question himself.

“Mm, in a good patch.” The blonde answered simply and you couldn’t expect any more from him, it could’ve made you chuckle if you weren’t also roped into the equation.

“Got anything to do with our newest recruit?” The brunette smirks, steam coming from his lips previous fire dying out with a ‘fssssss’.

“What!?”

“I’m not stupid and you’ve always been a dog person Simon” The dragon waved him away with a pale clawed hand, the steam from his mouth spreading in the process. The wraith had thrown a hand over his head staring down at his lap.

“Fuck me, Price, don’t put it like that.”

“I ignore the mutt's existence as a whole actually and I like birds more.” You fight back a roll of your eyes, arms crossed over your chest while your captain slightly grins.

“You love a chase Deity, we all had to go through it at one point.” He grins at you, blue eyes twinkling as you avert your gaze to the now interesting wall while the man dug into his duffel bag.

“Here’s hoping you both keep those opinions, yeah?” The captain held out a file for either of you to take which you’d grabbed first, going to sit in between the two men to give Ghost a view over your shoulder.

“New transfers?”

“Temporary ones. International corps are sending us two of their attack dogs and a python. They’ve been tracking a bogey for months who’s recently made themselves known on our turf. They’re asking to work together.”

“They’re asking to work together? Got us doing their jobs for them with this request for preliminary recon” The wraith merely huffs out, while the dragon began to take a stand from his seat, his brown eyes low peeking through his mask. If unamused was a person he wouldn’t be too far off.

“Just to prepare for their arrival. Shouldn’t be an issue, make sure it isn’t.” The brunette softly grins out, an order. Hes holding the wraiths chin tilting it up slightly in his clawed pale hand while his thick pear green take swayed idly behind the back of knees before his heavy boots began to take him away. The masked lieutenant acts quickly, stretching a hand to reach over to the captains.

“Soap he’s… he’s not gonna change this” The statement falls off his lips like a prayer. His hooded eyes rest lowly with eye black covering the surface around them. Price slight grins before resounding a moment of silence having passed by.

“You don’t need to promise me anything, Simon. I'm your captain, I’ll be here either way.” He grabs ahold of your forearm gently tugging you to his side while stepping in front of the blonde, the writhing having to crane his neck up to see you both in response to you standing before him.

“And I wouldn’t mind if he did. My boys taking of each other when we can’t, a dream come true” Price nods to his side where you stand, eyes flickering between bloodshot red and their normal color.

“Dirty.”

“You wouldn’t have it any other way.” You roll your eyes playfully, —only to their eyes did it seem that way— your thumb rubs against the stubble on his cheek having hiked up his balaclava to his slightly crooked nose. Your eyes don’t stray away from his brown ones, his pupils are slightly blown. Your own orbs are still shifting shades while you stare down the hulking wraith with uncertainty, it would be the first time since…

The blonde shifted his head slightly giving you better access to his jugular, eyes raking over the horned brunette in front of him. It happens all too quickly fangs are scraping against his pulse point and lips are being smashed against his. John swallows the deep hum from Simon when your teeth pierce through the skin of his neck, one of your hands on the nape of his neck and a clawed pale hand that didn’t belong to you sat against his jawline. Your knee that was against the bench now creates friction through the thick fabric of Ghost’s cargo pants right above his growing cock. The lieutenant lets out a broken moan combined with a grunt at the sudden motion that you can hear past his and Prices sealed lips before you’re pulling away.

“Got hybrids today, maybe you could stop by if your dog doesn’t turn you into a treat.” You hum rubbing a finger over the corner of your lips where stray blood had slipped before taking it in between your teeth and walking out of the training room ignoring the faint sounds of your superiors chuckle.

“You think she’ll get over it?” The blonde questioned standing from his seat with a crack of his back, eyes nots quite slipping from your retreating figure. —the sway of your hips to be exact— The brunette huffs out a chuckle slinging his bag over his shoulder before responding.

“When you think about it she’s approved a lot with him, especially since the med wing. Not a threat to her home anymore, just a threat to her people.” The one winged hybrid hummed out, the itch for a smoke growing more prominent the more time had passed.

“By people you mean us… but come on Price, Deity knows she has us” The dragons grin had yet to leave his face, arms thrown across his broad chest.

“We know we had her when she toyed with that one tall lad, König was it? She's just smelling him out Simon. Phoenixs are territorial, pretty sure the ‘threat’ will be gone soon enough. Hell he follows ‘er around like a lost pup anyhow… Tell you what, bet you a twenty he’ll be marked in the next month” With a pat on the shoulder Price left the room without another word, trailing along to the comfort of his office leaving Ghost to himself.

💌💌💌💌

You enjoyed the evenings right outside of base. It wasn’t too warm where your skin was being cooked to a crisp under the sun and not too cold to need anything other than a thin jacket at most. It was also the time where you could get a pocket of peace, where you didn’t have to listen to ‘lieutenant, lieutenant, lieutenant’. A scheduled area away from the comfort of your office where little to no one knew about? Perfect for you… until it wasn’t.

Your visitor couldn’t seem to the memo of temporary peace. All of a sudden instead of the sound of chirping crickets and flickers of fireflies, all you could focus on was the faint sound of the beat blaring through your sergeants headphones. Your cigarette softly crackles as you inhale the smoke from it, the smoke falling over the jacket that wasn’t actually yours. All you wanted was to finish your paperwork in peace and here comes this little mu-

You wanted to groan at the repeated tap on your thigh.

“�� Soap” You call out with a huff in your voice, turning your head slightly to look over your shoulder to see the back side of the Scott who seemed blissfully unaware of his… surroundings

“Soap.” You call again his thick, bushy, tail swinging back and forth hitting your thigh with a ‘thump’. You stare at him for a while before standing, snatching the fur rod in your grasp with an underlying firmness.

“Mactavish.” The motion makes the hybrid jerk in his seat leaning forward slightly, dropping his files and pen in the process. You notice the tight looking collar around his neck that you couldn’t imagine having around your own but decide against speaking about it.

“Uh - L.T?” The wolf looks almost bashful when he turns to meet you gaze, your eyes low yet sharp and it reminds him of the day you met —if you could call it that—. The brunette was sure you could see the warmth spreading across his face, it would take a blind man not to.

“Your tail is whacking me.” Soap liked to think of himself as a pretty observant person and now he couldn’t tell if you wanted him in your bed or in a grave.

“It’s uh, g-got a mind of his own” Johnny stuttered out trying to not to fumble over his words. He runs a hand over the nape of his neck, persistent on keeping his eyes on yours and not the grasp you had on his tail.

“Well real it in or I will.” You finally let go of his tush, barely looking at him through the peripheral of your vision before taking your seat. The Mohawked stud takes a hold of his trim with his pants a little tighter then what they were a few moments ago, the thought of finishing his papers completely gone.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Now that everyone’s got their screen time I can’t WAIT to write for my baby gaz🤭

I hate my writing this Chp but what can you do?🙂

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pekoehoneyncream · 3 months ago

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Ghoaptober # 7

Prompt: Sofa

Words: 700~

TW: None (sfw)

This version of Ghoaptober was created by @spadesandshovels

This one is inspired by the sex couch in the drama department of my highschool. As soon as I saw today's prompt I knew what it had to be about

Enjoy!

“Cap!” Gaz’s yelp had Ghost whipping his head around. He lunged forward and grabbed Price by the arm, levering him back up before his ass could hit cushion, and Gaz breathed a sigh of relief when they were all safely standing again.

“What! What’s wrong with the settee?” Price demanded, taking a cautious step back from the piece of furniture in question, “What did you muppets do to it?”

“We-,” Gaz started, then shot a look at Ghost and started again, “I didn’t do anything to it. You just don’t wanna sit there, Cap. Trust me,”

Captain Price didn’t look at all appeased by the non answer, his hands raising up to rest on his hips as he faced down his subordinates.

“I trust you to tell me why I’m not allowed to sit on the settee, Garrick,” He spoke authoritatively, pulling a wince from Gaz.

“Y’see Captain, it’s just that this sofa is the only piece of furniture available to the whole base that has actual comfortable cushioning,” Gaz minced out hesitantly, eyeing Price as his Captain impatiently nodded along, there was a beat of silence as Ghost and Gaz waited to see if this was enough to clue him in. It wasn’t.

“It’s also long enough to lay down on,” Gaz continued in a leading tone, widening his eyes meaningfully,

“Would you just tell me what the fuck is wrong with the settee, that I can’t-” Price’s irritable command was cut of by Soap prancing up to their impromptu huddle.

No doubt summoned by the potential to cause chaos, like the shameless gremlin he is.

“Why’re we standin’ aroond the shaggin' sofa?” he asked. Pushing himself up under Ghost’s arm to huddle into his side, he cast eager looks between his teammates, wanting to be on the same page as them.

“Johnny, please” Ghost implored, dropping his head back to stare up at the ceiling.

“The shagging sofa.” Price repeated, staring down the Scot,

“Oh, aye. Everyone tha’s fuckin’ someone has fucked on tha’ sofa, Cap.” Soap confirmed with a grin, ignoring how Gaz’s shoulders were shaking as he turned away and the way Ghost heaved a sigh that petered out into a small despairingly mortified whine. Their Captain was safe.

Price’s face was perfectly flat, devoid of any movement or reaction, “Everyone that's fucking someone.”

“Aye,” Soap affirmed, his smile only growing.

“On this settee.” Price swung a hand back to gesture encompassingly at the sofa.

“Yessir,” Soap nodded eagerly, keeping his eyes on Price.

“Everyone.” Price reiterated, his eyes flicking briefly to Ghost who was still staring up at the ceiling, ardently wishing that he had put on his eye-black that morning, regardless of the fact that he never wore it when he was scheduled to be on base all day.

“Yessir.” Soap repeated, his grin taking on a lecherous cast, “Everyone.”

“Understood, Sergeant,” Price abruptly chose to move on, decidedly uninterested with further pursuing that line of thought. At no point in his life did he want to be contemplating his Lieutenant in any kind of relation to a ‘shagging sofa’,

“Garrick, Ghost,” Price’s voice had taken on such a serious tone that the men reflexively straightened up,

“Sir.”

“Good work, I’ll be in my office if you need me,” Price about faced and started walking away, “Don’t need me.”

Gaz looked between his Captain’s retreating back, his Lieutenant hiding his eyes in one hand while keeping his other possessively clamped on Soap’s hip, and his fellow Sergeant who was grinning like he’d just won the grand prize at a carnival game. Then helplessly broke down laughing, bracing a hand against the arm of the sex couch to stay upright.

“Well, tha’ answers if the Cap is gettin’ any,” If Soap’s blunt appraisal nearly killed Gaz, Ghost’s simple reaction of ‘Johnny, no.’ immediately sent him six-feet under.

He hit the floor wheezing for breath between rib-cramping bouts of laughter. When Gaz’s hysteria escalated to the point he started snorting with every inhale he brought Soap down with him.

Ghost sighed as he stared down at his manically laughing Sergeants. He mentally weighed the pros and cons, then reluctantly crouched to roll Gaz onto his side into a pseudo recovery position, so that the man didn’t actually asphyxiate himself. Willfully ignoring Johnny's sputtering cackles.

He could choke.

Thank You For Reading!

Short one today, but I hope y'all enjoyed it nevertheless!

While I do ship Price and Ghost on occasion, for this story Price sees Ghost as something of a son to him, hence why he doesn't wanna think about him fucking.

Ghost was being a big blushy baby about Soap talking to Price about them fucking(in public at that).

Soap knows Price is safe and wouldn't write them up or be mean about it, which is why he's okay implicating them. If Ghost was actually uncomfortable, or if someone unsafe was asking, Soap wouldn't have said anything ofc.

Has Gaz fucked on the sex couch? Hell yeah he has, it's practically a rite at this point, but he a subtle chaos gremlin and wanted to tease Ghost.

PekoeHoneynCream's Masterlist

#ghoaptober #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #pekoehoneyncream #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #john soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap cod #john mactavish #john bravo six price #john price #kyle gaz garrick #cod #call of duty

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