#Simon Riley x reader x Johnny Mactavish

[heavenbarnes]

dear god please I’m begging you on my hands and knees for more ghost soap reader action, you do it so right. I’m feral

“you do it so right” is a crazy compliment you’re going to make me AHHH 🫶🏼 (this is afab!reader btw just no pronouns)

simon knows his friend has a crush on you, didn’t have to be a fuckin’ psychic to work that one out.

it was written all over his fucking face from the moment he met you, still there when you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock.

“oh L.T, that’s fuckin’ nice”

you ignored the fact that, whilst you were the one with johnny’s cock in your throat, it was your boyfriend he’d chosen to speak to. you ignored it because you knew if you thought about it too long, you wouldn’t be lasting.

simon was practicing his patience on the other end of the couch, large hands gripping his thighs so he wouldn’t rip you off your knees and place you straight in his lap.

he was practicing generosity.

johnny had been whinging his ear off about how long it’d been since he’d had a good shag and he’d got a little too bold talking about how good L.T must have it at home.

“bet ye’ open the door and yer’ one s’already fuckin’ kneeling”

“that the first thing ye’ do when you get home? empty a couple loads?”

“gaggin’ for it with you, L.T- i bet”

simon had had enough, mainly because johnny was absolutely correct and he needed to go home and deal with it- but also because it was doing his head in.

the man had enough dirty thoughts about you to power the fuckin’ atom bomb and simon thought it might be worth putting it to work. there was gains to be made on multiple fronts.

johnny had one arm along the back of the couch and the other was at your face, fingers softly stroking your cheek as you made the most deplorable sounds.

somehow, you could make choking on cock a bit cute.

it wasn’t lost on simon the way your back was arching as you forced more of his friend into your mouth, your ass shaking a little bit as you stuck it out.

an invitation.

simon was practicing generosity but that didn’t mean he had to practice total altruism. there were gains to be made on all fronts.

so whilst you were knelt with your palms flat on johnny’s thighs, his hands coaxing your head in a rhythm, simon was on his knees behind you with your trousers around your knees.

two thick fingers took one long drag up your slit, prodding at your entrance and making you jolt forward. the sudden motion had you gagging on johnny, his head tipping back with a thick moan ripping out of him.

part of being so quiet meant simon would never say it, but maybe if you asked him at just the right moment he could tell you that, to him? he had the best view in the house.

best view in the fucking world.

johnny looked the picture of ruin as your spit dribbled down the side of his cock, matting his trimmed pubes to his skin. you were rolling your hips back into simon’s hand, reaching back to spread yourself a little for him.

“patience,” strong hand cracking down on your ass cheek. “you’ll get what you deserve”

your mouth was full but johnny could’ve sworn he heard you mumble “yes, si” around him at the order (it very well could’ve been “yes, sir” he was undecided)

when he didn’t think his evening could possibly get better, johnny felt a moan leave your chest and absolutely choke him up. his eyes flew open and he was met with a sight.

your eyes, squeezed shut and spit fucking flying out the corners of your mouth. simon- L.T on his fucking knees with his mouth buried in your cunt.

he thought he might die.

all the blood that wasn’t currently keeping johnny hard went straight to that spot and soon his head was spinning, resorting to closing his own eyes so he’d be able to make it through the night.

simon ate your pussy like a man possessed, two hands spreading your cheeks and tongue forcing its way into your entrance. pulling back only to spit on your clit before he dove back in.

giving it enough time and focusing on the sweet motions of your mouth, johnny figured it safe to reopen his eyes and take a another glimpse.

fucking silly move.

knelt before him was his L.T handling the biggest cock johnny thinks he’s ever seen this side of the internet, and he’s bullying it inside of your tight cunt.

johnny swears he didn’t mean to moan, it just slipped out the minute simon started to speak.

“hold tight, johnny- this one’s about to sing”

[angel-bugz]

Lazy, tired writing today bc I need to write something... life is hectic for me recently...

Overworked!Reader who, on the rare occasion, is asleep by the time the boys return from deployment. More often than not will you be able to hold out for long enough and stay awake to welcome the two back home - to eat together, and to all crawl to bed.

This time, the space is quiet as they enter the front door. Too quiet. Simon is yet to hear your soft footsteps padding down the hallway and Soap can just barely smell the remnants of a home cooked meal. They know instantly, that it's been one of those days. They soften at the mere thought of you in bed, cozy and warm. One shushes the other and they quietly set down their belongings, taking off their shoes with a caution similar to that of a recon mission. Hushed reminders to each other to 'be quiet'. Entering the bedroom, peeling off their most of their clothes in silence. The need to eat and shower forgotten about when they slide under the covers - one on either side of you.

In your sleeping state, your body knowingly melts in between theirs. Simon's arm wraps around your middle and Johnny's over your shoulder. All six legs tangled together. Perfect. Sleep and sound.

[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.

[d-emeter]

Teamwork makes the dream work — plus-size!fem!reader x Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish

CW: oral (male and female receiving), a little exhibitionism?

Johnny and you who team up to give Simon the best birthday of his life — the ones in his childhood did not make for good memories, and you two were set on changing that. A cake with attempted hearts and a 'happy birthday' in shaky writing, decorations everywhere and gifts that were put together with all the love and care in the world.

Simon and you who team up to make Johnny the best home-cooked he's tasted since he left Scotland. You both know he misses it sometimes, even if he keeps it well hidden. But you've facetimed his ma, asked her for all her recipes and before you know it, the table is filled with what can only be described as a buffet of Johnny's favourite foods. You've also invited the rest of the squad over so Johnny can finally show off his culture like he always wants to.

Simon and Johnny who team up to support you while you're studying. Simon's providing snacks, getting you anything and everything you're craving because he insists you need brainfood. He'll feed you, too, so you don't disturb your focus. Johnny lets you teach him things (he says it's one of the best ways to learn) and will then quiz you on them after. You're getting a kiss for every right answer, of course.

—

Johnny and you who team up to get Simon to relax properly, it's his birthday after all. After the mandatory awkward singing and the blowing out of candles, there's something else that needs blowing. Johnny somehow wrestled Simon into sitting back on the couch, after which you and Johnny sink to your knees to make out around his cock. His game is on, slice of cake in one hand and a beer in the other, and his loves kneeling for him — best birthday ever.

Simon and you who team up to fluster Johnny beyond belief. He tries not to react when your foot brushes his leg, though he falters a little in his story about his childhood to Price. He chokes on his scotch pie when Simon's hand finds its way to just below his crotch, and now has to play it off because Gaz is giving him a funny look. When a bit of whipped cream 'falls' from your spoon and onto your cleavage, Johnny's knee jerks against the table. Not two seconds after everyone is ushered out the door, Johnny's on his back on the table, his dick in your mouth while Simon has his in Johnny's.

Simon and Johnny who team up to fuck their smart girl stupid. They coo at you, telling you you've worked so hard, you deserve a treat. Dragged from your spot behind your laptop and onto Simon's lap. Look at that, their smart little slut, going dumb on Simon's cock while Johnny's lapping at her clit. They'll make you recite everything you've learned, though. Gotta make sure it stuck, sweets.

[imaginedreamwrite]

Wish You The Best

Part 4: Hesitating

You had no idea what to expect, what to do or even what to wear. This night was meant to be a first courting date between you, Johnny and Simon. It was the precedent that was going to be set by the hours you’d spend together tonight.

The date itself shouldn’t have brought you such a rush of anxiety as you combed through your closet for something to wear. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t been on dates before, or as if you were a hyper-isolated and innocent omega who had never been with an alpha before.

You were, as Ava had mentioned time and time again, unlucky in love. It was the truth, it was a veritable truth that you had never had much luck with alpha’s. You were too trusting, you believed that there was good in everyone and you’d allowed yourself to be open to being hurt by assholes. It was default state, an optimism that made you want to see the good in people because in your eyes the world was jaded enough as it was.

Unfortunately your optimism and desire to see the best in everyone had left you feeling unlucky in love when you tried dating. You had allowed yourself to be put through relationships that weren’t great, with alpha’s that took much of the relationship without giving.

Now you were on the path to dating alpha’s that were good—inherently or otherwise—and wouldn’t treat you like the others. It was the words written between the lines of Johnny and Simon’s promise, almost unspoken but truthful that they would be different. And that unspoken promise had left you with a feeling of anxiousness that fueled your trepidation for this date. Because even in your youth you had a crush on Johnny, and now the chance to actually date him was before you.

Between Johnny and Simon, you were going to be caught in the middle of two alpha’s, and you had the suspicion that they would dote heavily on you. Another thought, another tract that made you nervous for the date.

Regardless of your nerves, you knew you didn’t have that much time to get ready for the date tonight. Your day officially started between 6:30 and 6:45 every morning when you woke up to get dressed and ready for a day of teaching and it ended at 3:15 every afternoon.

You worked Monday to Thursday with Friday’s off, a steady work load of about 35 hours per week, if you added all the extra classwork you had done outside of your normal working hours.

By the time you had finished waiting for your students to be picked up, cleaned up your classroom and gotten your things, it was closer to 4. You returned to your flat around 4:30 and had immediately set upon getting ready for the date, a long process to you given your indecision on what to wear. You had no idea what Johnny and Simon were planning, you were kept mostly in the dark and when Johnny text you to make sure you weren’t backing out, you asked.

His response to your question was a simple response, that you were going to dinner. It was an easy choice for a first date, for you to get to know both of them as your potential future alpha’s. Even if you had claimed you knew Johnny, how much had you actually known about him since he went and became a soldier? And Simon Riley, the large and imposing alpha that Johnny had fallen in love with, was far more of a stranger to you than Johnny was.

In your state of nervousness for this first date, you had texted Ava trying to get some advice for what exactly you could potentially wear. Your best friend had extensive knowledge on Johnny, as his sister she could give you an unrestricted opinion on what to wear and what she might think would happen tonight. As you waited for the reply from Ava, Johnny had texted you again, the message simple and to the point.

See you in an hour, sunshine

The text itself had registered itself as another inductive stream of anxiety, since you had let the time get away from you. You turned to the clock on the wall, the face mocking you with the restriction it had given you, and the time to get ready was quickly coming to a close. With a sigh you set your phone down on the mattress and chose to keep it simple yet in the style that was popularized in this small English town.

Relax, Y/N. You could wear a potato sack and my brother would nut

When Ava texted you back, replying to your questions and hesitation over making a decision, the reply she gave had your body flooded with warmth. She seemed too honest in her statement, too bold when she told you that Johnny would ‘nut if you wore a potato sack’. Even if her answer was bold, you couldn’t ignore the way it had seemed to ease some of the tension that was making you hesitate.

In the end you chose to wear a soft jumper and the nicest pair of jeans you had, the combination of the two was simple and classic. It was a look that made you comfortable and would keep you warm in the nighttime English air.

Once you managed to settle on wearing jeans and a soft sweater, you had taken to doing your hair and makeup. Like the clothing choice you made, you focused on your comfort —you pulled your hair out of your face, and kept with your usual makeup routine, the only difference was a slightly bolder lip stain.

Despite your initial nervousness, by the time you were supposed to be picked up by them, you felt ready. There was nothing to lose, and you knew that this date with the two alpha’s couldn’t have gone any worse than your previous dates. The experiences you'd had in the past were what made you believe you were unlucky in love, and if this had also crashed and burned than you would simply pick yourself up again like you had in the past.

No pain no gain, no guts no glory.

************************************

You opened the door when you heard a knock, and hadn’t quite expected to see both Johnny and Simon standing on the other side. Your surprised expression was faltering to Johnny, even momentarily, as his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pressed together.

“I didn’t expect to see both of you.” You explained your surprise before Johnny could speak, cutting off his chance to ask anything. “I just…well I didn’t know what to-“

“Fuckin’hell, you look good, bon.” Johnny’s frown forms into a kind of shit eating grin as he looks you up and down shamelessly. “Those jeans-“

“You like flowers?” Simon edges in, swiping a bouquet of roses from his mate offering them to you, as Johnny continued to stare openly.

“Oh!” You were, again caught off guard, and grabbed the flowers with a small smile, slightly awkward in its form. “Thank you, these are really nice. I’ll just put them in water, do you want-”

“To come-” Johnny’s voice raised in an amused pitch, and a smirk was playing on his lips.

“If you say something dirty Johnny, I swear I’ll smack you.” You rolled your eyes and turned your back to them, walking into your apartment while they followed.

You moved to your small kitchen and set the bouquet down. In order to reach the single vase you had in your possession, you stood on your tippy toes and reached for the cupboard above your stove. You grunted when you couldn’t quite grab the loose handle, drawing Simon and Johnny’s attention.

“Ya need help, sunshine?” Johnny strode into your kitchen and stood behind you, his chest to your back, as he reached up past you. He grabbed and opened the cupboard effortlessly, his height over you a significant advantage.

“Thank you.” You waited until the vase was directly in your hands before you really thanked him, and then you began filling it with water.

“And thank you for the flowers too,” you called over your shoulder toward Simon, both of their scents slowly filling your space.

“That was actually-“ Johnny started to speak and was softly cut off by Simon’s gruff voice.

“Welcome.” Simon, the larger and more intimidating of the two, had been looking at the pictures on your walls—more specifically the photo’s of your childhood spent with the MacTavish’s.

You and Ava were best friends, and your crush on Johnny had been reflected in some of the pictures. There seemed to always be a closeness between the two of you, despite the timing never really working out.

Until now.

There was a moment of stilled conversation, a lull that was filled with nonverbal sounds—you filling the vase, Johnny tapping his nails against the counter, and Simon walking around your small living room. He stopped in front of a collage of pictures behind glass and a wooden frame.

Of the pictures in the frame, Simon was paying most attention to one of you and Ava, of the two of sitting side by side on the MacTavish’s front steps. Her arm was around your shoulders and yours around hers, but it wasn’t Ava that made the picture it was Johnny. Johnny who had stood behind you, holding a pair of bunny ears behind your head.

“He always was a pain in-.” You joined Simon, standing beside him as you looked at the same picture.

“-the ass? ‘Aven’t changed a bit.” Simon’s scent is thickening, it’s becoming more intense as if it has a kind of its own and it wants to mesh completely with yours.

It was the standard practice for an alpha like him, powerful and intense just like Johnny. It was enticing to you as an omega but their presence itself could be intimidating. They had the build of alpha’s that were meant to not just be soldier’s but forces to be reckoned with.

“Did Johnny tell you about the time he ran out out of his parents house butt naked?” You don’t know why you say it but you do, and it draws Simon’s eyes back to you and away from the pictures on the wall.

The stoic alpha’s lips twitch, a threat of a half-smile toying on his lips. Though he doesn’t verbally respond you know you have his attention and he’s waiting for you to go on. Johnny on the other hand, stares deeply into your back, and you know he’s also watching you but in a different manner.

“Sunshine don’t finish that story.” His footsteps follow after you, his usual charm making your heart skip a beat but you can’t stop looking at Simon.

“Finish the story, I wanna hear about Johnny’s naked ass.” Simon encouraged you to continue despite his mate’s insistence otherwise, he wanted to know and you knew the story was rather really funny.

“Don’t do it, bonbon.” Johnny warned you, teasingly of course, and inches toward you. “I’ll spank ya.”

You felt Johnny’s fingers flutter against your waist, the lilt in his voice was natural for an alpha like you. He was drawing you closer to his body, your side to his chest, pulling you away from Simon with intent to silence the story.

“He won’t, ‘es just saying that.” Simon cocked his head to the side, watching with eyes that made you feel nervous just from the sight of them. After Simon spoke there was silence, comfortable silence.

It remained until Johnny had glanced at the clock and then made the comment that you had to leave or else you’d be late for your reservation.

You looked away from Simon, your stomach fluttering with butterflies. Johnny grabbed your hand, interlacing your fingers before he lifted your hand to his lips. He looked at you through his lashes while your hand was pressed to his lips. When he lowered your hand he gave it a small tug, leading you behind him as the three of you left the apartment for your date.

No pain; no gain. No guts, no glory.

[hellomissella]

alright i'm powering through an awful cold and (un)fortunately have a lot of time on my hands.

they'll all be written at some point. just sorting priorities. in the meantime, check out my fics.

[soapysoapysoapysoapy]

taking one (& another & another & another) for the team | soap x reader x ghost | inspired by: @softaestluv johnny's pent up blurb

It started as a joke. "I'm gonna die if I don't get my cock wet soon," Johnny whined, sprawled backward over the couch, legs spread, hand draped over his forehead like he was seconds away from his last breath. *"Swear I can feel it in my fucking molars, mate. I'm gonna explode."

At first, you and the others ignored him. Typical Soap — loud, dramatic, a walking sexual frustration PSA. But it didn't stop. If anything, it got worse: every mission debrief, every meal, every late-night sit around the barracks, Johnny lamented his poor, poor cock like it was a national tragedy.

When he started describing how tragic his wanks were — "My hand's too fuckin' rough, not the same, need something wet, something tight—" — you snapped. Loud enough for everyone in the room to hear: "Christ, Soap, I'll fuckin' take one for the team if it'll shut you up."

Johnny sat up like you'd just offered him oxygen.

Which is how you found yourself bent over the nearest flat surface, jeans yanked halfway down your thighs, Johnny pressed tight to your back, rutting into you like a man possessed.

"Fuck—fuckin' hell, love, yer savin' my life," he groaned, hips slamming into you like he was trying to crawl inside. "Warm 'n tight, fuck, could stay here forever."

You barely bit back a moan, hands braced hard enough to hurt. You weren't supposed to enjoy this, just do your duty to the squad’s sanity.

But then Johnny started whining again — not his usual loudmouth bitching, but these needy, half-choked sounds against the back of your neck.

"Need ya," he rasped, like he couldn't help himself. "Need yer cunt, fuck, not gonna be enough, need it again—'m not done—"

Even after he came — hot, messy, filling you to the brim — he didn't stop. Still rocking against you, still murmuring desperate filth into your skin, already hardening inside you again.

You realized then: You hadn't fixed the problem. You'd made it worse.

He barely pulled out before he was pushing right back in, thick and slick with his own cum, grinding into your overstretched walls like he could merge the two of you if he tried hard enough.

"Fuckin' perfect," Johnny slurred against your neck, teeth scraping along your skin. "Mine now, y'know that? Filled you up good—fuckin' claimed you—"

You tried to push him off, half-hearted at best — muscles trembling, brain fogged from how full you felt — but Johnny just wrapped an arm around your middle and held you there, hips rolling slow and filthy, fucking his own mess deeper inside.

"Nuh-uh, love," he muttered, pressing kisses to your shoulder, messy and possessive. "Said I'd lose my mind if I didn’t get to fuck you. Y’think one load's enough to fix this? After all that sufferin’?"

You whimpered, feeling his cock twitch again, fully hard despite just cumming. He chuckled low against your skin, voice dark and wrecked.

"Told ya I'd go mad. Now yer stuck with me, sweetheart."

He fucked you slow the second time — not like the frantic, desperate slamming from before, but a grinding, possessive rhythm, like he had all the time in the world to ruin you properly. Every time you clenched around him, he gasped, praising you in that ruined, filthy brogue.

"That's it, good girl," he breathed. "Take it all, take it like y'made for it. Fuckin' born to milk my cock, huh? Gonna pump you so full you won't remember what it feels like to be empty."

You felt him bulge even thicker inside you, grinding down into your cervix, every thrust stretching you wider, making you feel owned in a way that had nothing to do with orders or duty.

Johnny growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your skin. You barely registered it before he was moving — hands gripping your hips, manhandling you onto your back like you weighed nothing.

"Wanna see," he panted, almost delirious. "Wanna see how fuckin' ruined you are for me."

Your legs were shoved open before you could think to protest, ankles tossed over his shoulders. Johnny leaned back just enough to look — and groaned, obscene and ragged.

"Fuckin' hell, look at that," he hissed, watching his cum leaking out of you, your cunt red and puffy, still clenching greedily around nothing. His cock throbbed in his hand, still wet, still ready.

"So messy, love. Drippin' for me already. Y'know what that means, don’t ya?"

You shook your head weakly, breath stuttering in your chest. Johnny just grinned, all teeth and danger.

"Means I’ve gotta fill you up again. 'Til you can't take any more."

Without warning, he lined himself up and pushed — forcing his cock back inside your sore, sloppy cunt in one thick, slow thrust. You cried out, back arching, and Johnny moaned like you were his whole damn salvation.

He didn’t give you a chance to breathe. Started fucking you immediately — deep, grinding strokes that had your whole body jolting with each brutal snap of his hips.

"That's it, that's it," he gasped, head tipping back, sweat dripping down his temple. "Take it all, pretty thing. Gonna make sure yer stuck full of me. Walkin' round leakin' my cum for days."

Your brain barely worked anymore. Just open-mouthed whimpers, toes curling, walls spasming around him like you wanted it — wanted everything he was giving you and more.

Johnny's pace turned frantic again, slamming into you harder, the sound of skin against skin filthy and wet between you.

"Belong to me now," he growled, words punching out of him with each thrust. "No one else. Fuckin' mine."

You couldn’t even pretend to fight it. Couldn’t think past the way he filled you so perfectly, the overwhelming heat, the way his cock dragged along every sensitive spot inside you until you felt tears spring to your eyes.

He buried himself to the hilt one final time, grinding down against you, hips jerking as he spilled deep again, thick and endless. You could feel it — the heat, the stretch, the way he pulsed inside you like he was branding you from the inside out.

Johnny didn’t pull out. Just collapsed over you, mouth hot and messy against your jaw, still twitching inside your wrecked cunt.

"Fuck," he whispered hoarsely. "Still not enough. Need you again, love. Gonna fill you 'til you’re round with me, swear it."

Johnny stayed buried in you for a long moment, hips grinding lazy, slow circles, as if trying to force every last drop even deeper. You could feel it leaking out around his cock — hot, sticky, obscene — and you whimpered, overstimulated and wrecked.

Johnny noticed immediately. Growled against your throat, feral.

"Leakin'," he muttered, almost offended. "Can't have that. Gotta keep it all in, love. Need you drippin’ full for me."

He finally, finally pulled out — and the flood of cum that gushed out made you sob, weak and broken. But Johnny didn’t give you a second to recover. He dropped between your legs, shoving two thick fingers inside you without warning, curling them deep and obscene, scooping the mess back up.

"No wastin' it," he rasped, fucking his cum right back into your cunt with slow, filthy thrusts. "Take it all, greedy girl. You fuckin' need it."

Your legs kicked weakly at the overstimulation, but Johnny just grinned — wild and unhinged — before spreading you wider, his thumb pressing down hard on your clit while he stuffed you full with his fingers.

"Gonna breed you proper," he whispered hoarsely. "Fill you so deep you’ll be round with me. Belly all heavy, stuffed full of my fuckin' load—"

You sobbed, hips rolling despite yourself, body desperate for more even as your mind shattered into static. You should have known it’d be like this — Johnny didn’t do anything by halves.

He leaned down, mouth dragging messy, possessive kisses along your trembling stomach like he could will it to swell.

"Mine," he murmured. "All fuckin' mine."

And that’s exactly when you heard the door creak open. You barely had the strength to lift your head, vision blurry — but you saw a tall shadow in the doorway.

Ghost.

He stood there, silent, unreadable behind his mask — just watching. Johnny didn't stop. Didn’t even slow down. He curled his fingers inside you again, making you cry out, making more of the mess spill down your thighs.

Ghost's head tilted slightly, almost curious.

"Problem?" Johnny barked over his shoulder, voice wrecked but cocky as hell. Like he wanted Ghost to see — to know.

Ghost said nothing. Just crossed his arms slowly over his broad chest.

Johnny smirked and turned his attention back to you, dragging his fingers out with a wet squelch just to stuff them right back in — slow and possessive.

"That's right," he said lowly, clearly for Ghost’s benefit now. "Had to take care of it myself. Filled her up so good she's fuckin' leaking. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?"

You whimpered in response — too broken, too full, too wrecked to argue.

Ghost watched you for a long, heavy moment — chest rising and falling — before he spoke, voice flat and unreadable: "You better clean up after yourself, Soap."

Then, calmly — without another word — Ghost shut the door behind him with a click.

Johnny barked out a wild, breathless laugh against your stomach. "Come to help, mate?" he panted, fingers still lazily dragging through the wrecked mess of your cunt. "Think she needs it. Poor thing's so fuckin' stuffed already, can't hold it all."

Ghost didn’t answer. Didn't need to.

He stalked closer, heavy boots thudding against the floor, until he was standing right at the edge of the bed — looming over your trembling body. You watched through blurred eyes as he popped the button on his cargo pants, dragging the zipper down slowly, deliberately.

Johnny shifted you slightly, spreading your legs even wider, thumbs digging bruises into your hips to keep you open — presenting you like a ruined offering.

"C'mon, Ghost," Johnny muttered, voice rough and wild. "Don't leave the girl waitin'. Look how pretty she is—drippin' fuckin' ready."

Still silent, Ghost wrapped a hand around the base of his cock — thick, flushed, already leaking — and lined himself up.

He didn’t ease in. Just pressed the fat head against your already-used, dripping hole and pushed.

You screamed, body arching off the bed, overwhelmed instantly by the stretch, the pressure, the unbearable fullness of taking another man inside you without even a second to adjust.

Ghost let out a low, broken sound, not quite a grunt, not quite a moan, and buried himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

"There we fuckin' go," Johnny whispered against your ear, laughing breathlessly. "Take him, love. Take us both."

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

Ghost fucked you without mercy — slow, devastating thrusts that forced Johnny’s mess and his own spit to spill down your thighs in filthy, wet streams. He said nothing — just breathing harshly through the fabric of his mask, hands brutal on your hips, using you like a living, breathing fucktoy.

Johnny kept whispering filth into your ear — encouragements, praises, commands — while Ghost destroyed you from the inside out.

"That's it, good girl," Johnny crooned, petting your hair while Ghost slammed into you. "Take it like you were fuckin' made for it."

You felt your mind fracturing — pure overstimulation, pure broken pleasure — as Ghost fucked you harder, grinding deep, his cock stretching you to the point of tears.

And then Johnny shifted again — ducking low between your legs to lick around where you were stuffed full, his tongue dragging over your overstretched rim every time Ghost pulled out just a fraction.

"Fuckin' hell," Johnny gasped, almost reverent. "Look at that, Ghost. Cunt's swallowin' you like she needs it."

Ghost let out another low, broken sound — and picked up the pace. The bed creaked violently under you, your body jolting with every brutal, punishing thrust.

You could feel it building — some dark, overwhelming climax you couldn’t fight — tightening low in your stomach, burning up your spine.

Ghost suddenly reached down and gripped your throat — not tight, just heavy, possessive — and that was it.

You shattered. Clamping down around him so hard Ghost actually groaned, thrusts going sloppy, brutal. And then you felt it — hot, thick, spilling deep inside you, Ghost’s cock pulsing violently, joining Johnny’s mess inside your ruined cunt.

You lay there twitching, barely conscious, as Ghost finally pulled out — slow, heavy — and watched as his cum immediately leaked out after him.

Johnny's hand was already there — catching it, stuffing it back inside you with lazy, satisfied fingers.

Ghost pulled his gloves back on silently, redressing with mechanical efficiency. Said nothing. Before he left, he pressed one gloved hand to your trembling thigh — firm, approving — and then disappeared out the door without a word.

Johnny leaned down over you, brushing your hair back from your sweaty forehead.

"Told ya, sweetheart," he whispered with a wicked grin. "Was gonna fill you proper."

And from the ache in your gut and the obscene mess between your thighs —you knew he wasn’t lying.

Morning hit like a slow, heavy sledgehammer.

You barely even remembered falling asleep — just flashes: Johnny fucking his cum deeper into you with lazy, loving thrusts while you sobbed into the sheets; Ghost’s heavy hand gripping your thigh one last time before disappearing without a word.

Now your entire body ached. Your thighs were sore, trembling even at the slightest twitch. Your pussy was a wreck — raw, swollen, still leaking a slow, lazy drip of milky white that soaked into the crumpled sheets beneath you.

You tried to shift — to roll onto your side — and whimpered immediately. Everything hurt. You could feel the mess drying on your skin, inside your cunt, coating your thighs.

And Johnny, of course, was already awake.

He lay stretched out beside you, arms tucked behind his head, a smug, satisfied smirk spread wide across his face.

"Mornin’, sunshine," he drawled, voice rough from use, eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. "Sleep well?"

You glared at him weakly, too exhausted to even muster words. Johnny just grinned wider.

"Y’look wrecked," he said cheerfully, reaching out to brush a lock of hair from your sweaty forehead. "Proper job, that."

You tried to move again — a pathetic, sluggish attempt — and Johnny laughed, full-bodied and warm.

"Aw, poor thing. Can’t even fuckin' walk, huh?"

His hand drifted down — over your collarbone, the bruises he’d left, the fingerprints, the possessive marks — until he palmed your lower belly, pressing down just slightly.

You gasped, muscles clenching reflexively around the lingering mess inside you.

Johnny's grin turned wolfish.

"Still full, are ya?" he murmured. "Good girl. Holdin’ it all for us."

He sat up slowly, bare chest gleaming with a faint sheen of sweat, and pulled back the sheets.

You whimpered as cool air brushed your ruined, sore cunt — thighs automatically trying to close, to hide yourself.

Johnny tsked softly, spreading you open with two rough hands like you were something precious to be displayed.

He hummed low in his throat — a sound of satisfaction.

"Ghost’ll be pleased," he muttered, almost to himself.

You blinked sluggishly at him, confused.

Johnny chuckled and gestured toward the nightstand. There — sitting neatly next to a bottle of water — was a simple piece of paper. No name. No explanation. Just three short words, written in Ghost’s heavy, blocky scrawl: “Hold it in.”

Your heart hammered painfully in your chest.

Johnny laughed again — delighted, wrecked — and leaned down to press a filthy, claiming kiss to the inside of your trembling thigh.

"Guess we’re not done after all, love," he whispered against your skin. "Orders are orders."

And from the wicked glint in his eye, you knew you weren’t getting a break anytime soon.

[hidingwhere]

John Prices wife coming to pick him up at the airport after he returns from a mission, but the car is now full of military men.

One look at the three boys, completely exhausted and pulling their phones out to book a taxi had your heart crying. Without thinking, you offered them all a lift to yours and Johns home for them to stay overnight.

So now there’s three men cramped onto your three backseats, John having the luxury of sitting in the front. Simon is on the end (still in his balaclava but luckily not the skull mask because you’d be a little creeped out seeing that every time in the rear view mirror), Johnny in the middle and then Kyle on the other end. Johnny complains for about 10 minutes that he’s squished in and has no room to move but after that he’s completely zonked out on Simons shoulder.

Your music plays quietly through the speakers and they’re happy to listen to anything that isn’t gun shots or explosions.

Once you arrive home, they all climb out the car, grabbing their bags from the boot and dumping them down in the living room.

“Place looks less lifeless than last time I was here,” comments Johnny.

“Finally got a woman’s touch to it,” adds Kyle.

You smile a little at the non-direct compliment. Price also looks around, noticing the little details that have changed or the things that have been added around his house, keeping a hand on your back. He leans down and kisses you gently, mumbling “I missed you” against your lips.

“I missed you too. But it looks like you’ve lost weight.” You glance down at his body. “I’ll fatten you up again,” you tease with a little giggle as he chuckles.

It’s around 9pm by the time you’ve cooked dinner for four people who have appetites of bears. They all look at you as if you’re an angel sent from heaven when they see the food, sitting down at the dining table silently and scoffing down the meal.

By 10pm, you go into the living room thinking they’re all watching TV but instead they’re all asleep. You grab some spare blankets from beside the sofa and cover them up except for John. You shake him awake and make him move upstairs into bed with you. There’s no way you’re letting him sleep on the sofa and not with you after weeks apart.

[forsworned]

Being the only female on TF141 is like Simon constantly scolding you for getting into sheningans with Johnny and Kyle while Price sits on his arm chair with a good book, whiskey in hand and him puffing out smoke like a chimney from his cigar like the daddy he is.

"Delete it."

"Why?"

"Cos I fockin' said so."

You cock an amused brow at him as you look up from the embarrassingly cute photo of the skull-masked behemoth fast sleep and cuddling your Hello Kitty plushie. "Cos y'fockin' said so?" You mock his gravelly Manchester accent and it sends Johnny and Kyle into a fit of giggles. And even Price is chuffed by it. It's contagious really.

It lets your guard down enough for him to yank your phone out of your hand deleting the picture with a swiftness that made your eyes ream and your heart jump. You all groan and jeer at him for being a poor sport but he's quite satisfied with himself. Little does he know, you have a few copies of it in your desktop.

[shinoko-oshi]

Simon teaches you how to cum

One month into your relationship with Simon, he was set to leave on his first mission since you’d gotten together. It wasn’t a long, just a little over two weeks but the moment he mentioned it, your face dropped, and your fingers curled into the hem of your shirt.

He noticed. Of course he did.

That night, he handed you a small black box, thumb brushing over your knuckles when you took it with hesitant fingers. A vibrator.

“Figured you’d need somethin’ to keep busy while I’m gone,” he said, half teasing, though the look in his eyes was anything but light.

You only nodded, biting your lip, avoiding his gaze.

“What’s wrong, birdie?” he asked gently, tilting your chin up with the curve of his knuckle.

You hesitated, cheeks burning. “I’ve just… never made myself cum before.”

He stared at you for a second longer before standing up, pulling you with him, murmuring, “C’mon then. Let’s fix that.”

He positioned you in front of your bedroom mirror, body bare, knees weak, thighs trembling already just from the heat of his gaze. One of his hands held your jaw in place, fingers curled under your chin, forcing you to watch.

“Eyes open, love,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear.

“Want you to see how your body works, how it should be touched.”

His other hand moved between your thighs, fingers pressing slow circles into your clit. You whimpered, eyes fluttering, only for him to tighten his grip on your face.

“Watch,” he chuckled. “See that? That’s how you like it, yeah?”

His fingers sank into you slowly, then faster, curling just right. Over and over, until your knees buckled and your breath hitched sharp in your throat. And when you finally came, gasping against the glass, he kissed your shoulder and hummed, “That’s it, lovie. Just like that.”

You got up, staggering toward the bed, legs shaking, ready to collapse into the mattress.

But Simon caught your wrist and gently tugged you back.

“Where you goin’, birdie?” he asked with a light chuckle. “I still gotta teach you how to cum on a vibrator.”

He guided you back down, spreading your legs, eyes wide as he held the toy up, his smirk lazy heavy with promise.

Maybe you really did need the lesson.

Or maybe Simon just had a thing for mirror sex.

Maybe Simon just loved his birdie too much and the thought of being away from you already ached more than he’d admit.

Either way, you weren’t getting any sleep that night.

Shit post.

[i-love-you-just-the-same]

naps to lovers?

price is an accident, you fall asleep watching a movie with him after he cradles you in his bed. plops down with you to do some paperwork and he's out, too. you wake up cuddled into his chest and pretend not to notice his boner.

next it's johnny. you're both exhausted from sparring and workouts. instead of showering, he pulls you to his bed and tells you to wait for him before you get in. by the time you want up, the sheets are crusted with sweat and soap is on top of you, crushing you to the mattress.

after that, it's both johnny and kyle. smooshed between them after a long hard mission, it's hard not to appreciate two nice pillows. simon has the picture of you three asleep on each other.

kyle finds you in the mess hall after, pulling you to your room with the promise of takeout and uninterrupted rest.

simon is standoffish at first, but eventually offers himself up as a weighted blanket for you after being reprimanded by another force's captain (don't worry, price and gaz are handling it). he lets you hold him close while stroking your hair and face until you drift off. he frequents in odd hours with you (when he knows your alone or stacked up with another one of the boys).

you don't mean for it to, but it becomes much more regular. price pulling you into his lap during late night briefings, soap's head in your lap, and kyle following you back to your room. they get so much more casually affectionate- hands on you at all times, forehead kisses, and sweet words. they begin to take you out together after missions and on off days to movies and shopping (they love dressing you up).

this all builds up to a random friday where they bring you to a house about 30 minutes from base. lately, they'd all been a bit more secretive and making investments "for the wellbeing of the team" like price's new truck that could seat 7. the house has all five of yours stuff in it (ash trays, half finished sketches, sewing kits, kyle's hat on the table). you see some of your missing clothes in one of the big dressers half-opened drawers.

it shouldn't be a surprise to you then when you walk in the bedroom and there's a california king. you really should have expected it, hen, they've been courting you for months!

yeah, johnny's naked on the bed, so what?

[mina-org]

Thinking about retired John with a younger wife, and he just can’t keep up or keep it up with sex, his hips hurt and he find it humiliating how fast he comes or that he just can’t finish. S/o is sweet about it, kissing his cheek and comforting him but he knows his pretty girl has need and he’s not taking care of them it eats at him, so he enlists some help.

he knows his sweetheart would never do anything with, or ask for another man. just go on, happily neglecting herself:(

He doesn’t know if he should ask Simon, he’s big and mean and he’s not sure if your pretty pussy needs that right now. of course it would be a pretty sight to see simon fucking his sweetheart, have them on all fours, trembling nearly ruined. John could already see the tears, he could ever be that mean to his girl:( he'd love to see it though

Johnny is similar, but less mean and a bit too freaky for right now, he’d love to watch the Scot wreck you, love to lap up your cunt and wanted to hold you still while you squirm but still a bit intense when the two of you hadn’t fucked in months and Johnny was always introducing him to the kinkest shit and its just too much to start with.

Kyle though? Perfect. Simon and johnny were takers but Kyle? He’d give you want you want and need, he'd bring you to tears and kiss them away, he was able to give you what you need and be gentle about it and of course more than happy to help!

the two other men are jealous to say the least, simon's known you the longest and John used him to protect you more than a few times, in fact the way simon looks at you is what sparked the idea:(

johns a proud man and loves showing you off, and it started innocent enough, it just escalated but John sure you'll love it

[abusivegymrat]

Think of a reader who can’t fucking sit straight even the manliest men are anxious fucks while they consider manspreading near her, before deciding against it.

Think of a reader who could and would have her feet on the table in front of the fucking president or something.

Think of a reader who puts her feet on Simon’s shoulders while sitting behind him in briefing, while the entire room freezes in fear.

Think of a reader who nudges his temple with her boot when he opens his mouth to object behind the balaclava.

Think of a reader who got uncomfortable in a vehicle during a co-op mission with some other team, and even though she’s reckless, she knows her limits and shows respect. So she’s not sitting weird, not when everyone’s trying to fit.

So think of the reader’s reaction when the men near her finally take this chance to manspread as if it’s a competition.

“Close them the FUCK up, your dick isn’t even that big. It doesn’t need more space than me.”

haha this happened to me in metro today, the woman saying that was so badass omg😭

[imaginedreamwrite]

Ghost, Ghost, Host

Part 1: A Cursed Purchase 

Transaction #60236 has been completed, shipping details will be sent to your email with instructions on pick up to follow 

With the tip of your finger you scrolled halfway to the bottom of the email. Your receipt was included to document what you’d bought from this lost packages website your friend used. While she had used it to buy expensive items for a fraction of the price, you were rather interested in books. 

It didn’t matter what state they were in, how old or how new they’d been. Your interest in books was mostly to fill the gaps on your bookshelf left by your roommate before she moved out. Of course part of you was curious about the stories that might have lied between the pages of this book box. There was no guarantee what you would find, how many books were even salvageable but that was par for the course. 

That was part of the risk, part of the fun to see what you got and how good they were. Of course in the description of the box was a generalized itemized list—a few of which contained diaries or journals. That had made you even more curious, your interest peaked to an indescribable level. 

The time between ordering the lost mail, receiving the confirmation and shipment was a matter of just over a week. Your shipping and delivery notice was sent to your email with the reminder that the postal service would only keep your items for so long before they would be sent back with an undelivered notice. It was standard practice of the mail service to put limits on how long they would hold items and yet you were more anxious about potentially missing this purchase than you were for others. 

It was a series of anxious tracks of mind that blurred your excitement into a state of tension. Regardless of your momentary yet blinding trainwreck thoughts over these packages, when the email had come and you were granted the ability to pick up your boxes, you hadn’t hesitated to go.  

You had free time thanks to finishing your tasks earlier than expected, and that had given you the freedom to go. They gave you little explanation however there was a note added to the delivery instructions we just want to get rid of them. It made you curious, it made you ponder what extras could be in the second box. 

Despite the eagerness that made you want to rip into the box immediately, you had loaded them into your vehicle after leaving the postal service. You slammed the trunk of your vehicle and walked around to the driver's side and jumped in to avoid the inevitable rain that was coming. With the claps of thunder rumbling in the darkening clouds, and the streaks of lightning that seemed to be closer than you'd like, it was a race. 

It would be a race to get home, a race to beat the torrential downpour that was coming, and a test of your patience not to rip into the box right now. Though the weather was momentarily on your side, you still hadn’t wasted much time parking and taking your boxes into your apartment. Regardless of having to take two trips to take the box of lost packages you still managed to get into your apartment before the rain. 

It was only after you’d started opening the first box that you'd heard a crash of thunder and the steak of lightning across the dark sky. Your attention had flitted from the open box of books and the first two that had been set on top, both generic and modern authors. You grabbed the books and set them aside, both by a popular adult author that catered to mysteries, and then you had moved on. Book after book was removed from the box until you had gotten nearly to the bottom, where a set of journals had laid there. 

Your attention was piqued, and you’d almost entirely forgot about the second box in favour of the three journals in your possession. The first of three journals that had been laying against the bottom of the box was leather bound and stained with splotches of mud or oil that wouldn’t come out of the cover. Despite the stains on the cover, as soon as you had opened the cover it was apparent that the inside of the journal was still in good shape. 

JSM were the initials that had been written in ink on the first page under the cover, with a detailed drawing of the Scottish flag in the center. You had surmised that the flag and initials would both more than likely be significant to whoever had owned the journals when they were lost. Curiosity had grown and you'd set the first journal down to grab the other two, both of which were in the same state. 

“JSM and a Scottish flag.” You hummed under your breath and grabbed the journals before you picked yourself up off the floor. You moved from where the boxes were positioned near your old coffee table to the couch. You sat down against the second hand piece of furniture and leaned against the armrest on the left. As you began reading the first page of the first journal you had chosen first, a loud clap of thunder had resounded followed by the flash of lightning as it descended upon the city. 

For a moment you had turned your head to look out the window of your apartment, eyebrows furrowing as a torrential downpour of rain had begun battering the city. It was expected and warranted given the perfect conditions to form a storm like this. And while it was hard for you to keep your eyes off the destructive yet peaceful nature of the thunderstorm, you had wanted to deep dive into the journals. There was a kind of excitement over receiving journals from someone that fed into nosiness. 

“So, you were a soldier...” You mumbled under your breath, coming to the quick conclusion when you’d gotten to the second half of the second page. The first part that you'd read about so far, a description of the kind of city they were in, and the heat that he couldn’t escape. As the words went on, he had talked about his work as a special services soldier which you'd mentally reminded yourself to try and research later. 

It felt like hours that you’d been sitting on the couch reading this journal that you’d recently bought, and within the pages you’d come across names that had just made you more curious than anything. Captain Price and Gaz, two names that had been repeated a lot, had given your curiosity more than you’d imagined. And yet that was nothing compared to the person this soldier had called Ghost. Although whoever the JSM was had drawn sketches of landmarks and maps, small doodles here and there, you hadn’t come across a sketch of Ghost like you'd been hoping for. 

“...sergeant...” As thunder crashed outside, and lightning lit up the room, a voice had echoed in your ear as if someone was sitting next to you. The sound was muffled and not quiet audibly, almost like a whisper on the wind. 

The book had fell from your hands to your lap as your body reacted with a surge of fear and apprehension. You turned your head and looked at the space around you, surely trying to tell yourself that it was your brain playing tricks on you. Had you lost your mind? Have you completely lost it or were you just tired? 

Deciding to ultimately brush it off was the best course of action, and you’d closed the journal and set it to the side with the others. As thunder crashed again, you move quickly toward your bathroom with your phone in hand. After stepping inside and closing the door behind you, another loud boom of thunder seemed to rattle the windows with the force. Your gaze swept across the mirror before darting to the lights hanging above you, your narrowed eyes taking in the state of the flickering lights before the room was cast into darkness. 

You cursed under your breath and fiddled with your phone to turn on the flashlight. As the light was cast upon the mirror in front of you, a startled and sharp scream was ripped from your mouth. 

Standing behind you in the reflection of the mirror was a man wearing a tan tactical vest with a UK flag attached to the front. Beneath the tactical vest was a dark blue shirt that looked as if it was stained with blood near his right shoulder, and a set of thick black gloves on his hands. His hair was cropped into a mohawk style with the sides cut short, however it was his eyes that had still been the most frightening stimulus of this thing’s appearance. 

“What the fuck?!” Your fearful scream had turned to a curse, and the phone in your hand slipped from your grasp clattering to the ground. You immediately dropped to the floor to grab it, your fingers wrapping around the sides as you lifted it and then clutched it to your chest. With a sense of frantic panic, you aimed the flashlight toward the space where the man had been and found the space empty. 

You didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified, and any opportunity to react further about the state of your mental wellbeing was completely undone when he appeared again just as the lights come on. 

“Are ya done screaming?” His voice was stronger now, crystal clear and crisp.

Tag list: @supermegabitchboyexceptimagirl

[writersdrug]

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish is the kind of dad who throws your kids around for fun, tossing them into the air and catching them just to hear their infectious laughter, ignoring the worrisome protests that you call out from the kitchen when they get a little too high.

Captain John Price is the kind of dad who convinces your children to ask you for pizza for dinner, acting all surprised when you tell him to call the local pizza place, eyebrows rising with "What's the occasion?" despite the obvious grin that his plan worked. You aren't fooled.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick is the kind of dad who chases your kids around with a nerf gun, relentlessly pelting them with styrofoam bullets and ganging up on your oldest son with your youngest daughter. Waits behind the front door for your son to get home from school and immediately fires on him.

Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of dad who holds your toddlers like footballs, your daughter tucked sideways under his arm and dangling your son by his ankle. "Found these mice sniffin' 'round the cookie tin." He says with a deadpan expression, but you don't miss the way his mouth twitches when they giggle and shriek.

[skyrigel]

Simon who doesn't move an inch, infact barely takes a full breath lest he wakes you up enough from the rise and fall of his chest after you fall asleep on his shoulder in the back of Captain's car.

The same soft hums of here comes the sun goes on loop because it worked like lullaby for you earlier in the ride.

He doesn't bum a fag, when offered, and outright refuses to go in the pub ( the very purpose of coming all this way after deployment ) and stays there in the car with your warm body curled next to him.

“Takin' her sweet ol' home, LT ?” Johnny smirks at him through rearview mirror. The party had come back knackered, but only the Captain remained unfazed."

Gaz is puffing smoke on glass and making hearts over, while you are still fast asleep on Simon's shoulder.

He doesn't answer outright but mutters a small smug — 'Ya bet' and moves his cheek over your head to breathe in the scent of your hair.

Price isn’t as surprised as Johnny when he sends him out to open the door for Ghost and his birdie, after Simon effortlessly lifts you into his arms without disrupting your rest at all.

Here comes the sun, du, du, du

“Can I puke ?” Gaz asks, completely unaware.

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