#Sweet ghoap

[thatoneautisticshark]

Would you consider writing about hybrid Ghoap? Wolf hybrid Simon "Ghost" Riley who has always considered the 141 his pack but is still fairly solitary and dog hybrid John "Soap" MacTavish who also gets the pack instincts but in a more domesticated dog-ish way who somehow managed to get close to Ghost is on my mind more often then I'd like to admit. Lots of wagging tails. I've never sent an ask before but you seemed sad with how few you had :)

Ghost, safe to say, was pissed. The higher ups decided they needed a new team member into their pack, but they were totally fine.

Not only that, he was a canine hybrid?

They had a wolf in the group already, adding a second canine hybrid, that they had never met to the pack meant almost certain fights, and dominance issues.

At the very least the new Hybrid was only a sergeant. So even if he was a cocky bastard trying to be the dominant dog, Ghost still out ranked him.

Although Gaz was excited, he at least understood Ghost's annoyance. The time they had tried to add in another harpy did not go well.The fights that had started were viscous, the new one didn't want to accept that Gaz would not bow to him, and it ended with the new harpy downright trying to fuck up Gaz’s wings with fire, just so he could have the dominant position.

Price was the only one without an issue. Lynx were rare in the military, and usually Reacted more with an automatic bond, then fighting.

But Price understood Ghost's reluctance, and promised he'd deal with the brat if he caused issues.

And so here he stood, with his pack on the tarmac, waiting for the new mutt to arrive. Gaz had dropped his wing over the wolfs shoulder in a little show of comfort that Ghost appreciated.

The truck finally pulled up, containing the new team member. Out hopped a pup with a stupid mohawk? At the very least he wasn't a wolf, and didn't smell of cocky young dog.

The young one, Soap, walked over, his tail lazily wagging. “Heya! I'm John Mactavish, callsign soap. Hybrid of German Shepherd and a retriever.”

Price stepped forward first, introducing himself. “Captain John Price, lynx hybrid. Good to have you on the team.” He introduced, shaking the dogs hand.

Soap nodded “Good to meet you sir.”

At the very least he seemed to have manners, Ghost mused. He wasn't immediately trying to challenge the captain.

Gaz stepped forward, introducing himself as well. Although Ghost could see the tension, he was worried about how the pup would react to Ghost. “Hey mate. Sergeant Kyle Garrick, call sign Gaz. Harpy hybrid. Nice to meet you.”

Soaps' tail was wagging, making him look like an excited pup as he responded. “Nice to meet you too! I like your wings, they look cool.”

Well he was either good at flattery, or very sweet and excited. He moved Infront of Ghost, who was still glaring.

Instead of any kind of challenge like Ghost was tensed for, Soap showed submission. Bowing his head slightly, ears moving back, and tail dipping. Ghost blinked at him for a second, not expecting him to immediately acknowledge Ghost as the wolf in charge. It took him a second to right his brain, before speaking “Lieutenant Simon riley, Ghost. Wolf hybrid.”

The dog kept his head slightly bowed “Nice to meet you”

By the time a few weeks had gone by, Ghost was amazed there had not been an issue. Soap was talented, that was sure, a good shot, skilled fighter and amazing with bombs.

Him and Gaz had struck it off well, already being close friends, and he got along with Price.

He was quickly becoming a part of the pack, and Ghost, surprisingly, didn't resent it.

Soap was always respectful, and still showing signs of submission with Ghost, however ever did seem to seek him out.

Whenever Ghost spoke to him, his tail would be wagging slightly. And despite himself, Ghost found himself enjoying the company of the new pup.

Almost always sitting by him in the mess, working well in tandem, and thinking of him as part of the pack.

So naturally when management decided 3 months after Soap had joined that, no he didn't fit, they had a better placement.

Soap wasn't happy. He thought he'd been bonding well, but he supposed not. He was a bit hurt; none of the team had just told him, rather than getting him moved.

He wasn't expecting when the general brought it up in a briefing that he would be being removed, Gaz to jump to his feet, wings fluffed up in anger demanding why the fuck they were moving soap.

Prince sprung up, ears against his skull in anger “Why are you moving him? He fits in perfectly well?” His voice was laced with anger and growl.

The general stammered slightly “I well.. you guys already have a canine so it'll cause arguments with Ghost” He tried, before being cut off by a deep growl from Ghost.

Ghost stood up, grabbing Soap and pulling him protectively behind himself. “Don't you fucking dare.” He spat “Johnny is part of our pack. I will rip out your fucking windpipe if you try.”

The general froze.. “Uhm.. change of plans, soap is a permanent member.” He quickly stammered.

Ghost gave a huff, nuzzling Soaps, who looked dumbfounded, head.

That was really the jumping point for the close bond. Pretty soon, if one was seen the other wasn't far. After long missions in the heli, they'd be sitting against one another, tails wagging as they nuzzled eachother.

[ghostlysoaps]

John MacTavish used to spend parts of his summers in England visiting extended family and this is where he ends up meeting a boy a couple years older than him named Simon. Surprisingly enough, they hit it off. His bombastic, extroverted personality somehow manages to compliment Simon’s rather timid, introverted one. Joined at the hip, the two of them quickly call themselves best friends, and, as children tend to do, develop a bit of an innocent crush on each other – going so far as to promise to marry one another if they haven’t found anyone else by the time they’re both twenty-five.

But then autumn arrives and goodbyes are made and their promises to meet up again never come to fruition.

He doesn’t forget him though. Their friendship remains a fond memory, even a decade later, though much of the details are blurred with time. Perhaps it’s because they’d been each other’s first kiss – if the chaste peck of lips-on-lips can be called as such – or it’s the ring of twined straw, brittle as tinder, he has tucked away in his box of mementos that make that particular summer an unforgettable thing.

That and his steadfast insistence no one else is allowed to use a certain nickname for him.

In any case… those faded months are far from his mind when John Price is showing him around their base of operations, introducing him to people as they go along. The one-four-one consists of near enough two dozen operatives though he’s told it’s not uncommon to be mostly paired off with a select few of his fellow soldiers if they play to each other’s strengths. He nods along and pushes for the use of his callsign when folks wish to be friendly. Until, eventually, he finds himself face-to-face with a man who needs no introduction. A living legend as it were; who’s records Soap had worked hard to beat.

“Well then, last but not least. MacTavish, this is Lieutenant Simon Riley. Also known as��”

“–my future husband,” John finishes for him, based on a name, twelve percent of a full thought and the manc accent he’d spied when hearing him dismiss a batch of recruits.

Youngest to ever make the SAS and about to be the quickest one ousted, he thinks miserably when the eyes assessing him narrow at his declaration.

“Johnny?”

Oh.

“So ye do remember me!” Pivoting from mortification to delight, and heedless to any gawking voyeurs, John slings an arm around Simon’s shoulders to draw him into a loose side-hug. “No’ long now ‘fore we need t’ get hitched, aye?”

“Courthouse is a twenty minute ride,” Simon says drily.

Soap laughs, brighter than he can remember doing for a long time, before he immediately starts teasing Ghost about not proposing properly.

(He does, of course, do so years down the line.)

[hatsbuckets]

[i do not need a fwb situation, i tell myself repeatedly. (i'm in college it'd be way too easy lmao)]

Head Canons (some suggestive stuff in this but not much)

Thinking about John Mactavish volunteering at animal shelters whenever he can. It ends up being like a few spattering of days every month, but he'll spend all day there. He loves being around the animals. And he loves getting to be useful and help wherever he can.

You, a longtime volunteer, there nearly every day, love having the enthusiastic, charming... strong... muscular... funny... extra help too. You were the one who showed John around on his first day, a volunteer event day that he happened upon. A few dozen people showed up, and this mohawked, military man was among them.

He was one of the few who came back to the shelter after the event, and on some random day every week, he's there to lend a hand, listening intently to whatever instructions you give him (he's very motivated to listen to you and help the animals out) and even after a couple weeks of absence, he comes back again, apologizing that work took him away so suddenly.

And after a few months... this silly, mohawked, (might I add effortlessly charming, handsome, pretty?) military man's scattering of volunteer days has become a welcome surprise every time. He's always so sweet when he talks to you, throwing a friendly, "good mornin', love. Survive without me?" Carrying on easy conversation throughout the day, and occasionally something that feels like flirting, but you don't read too much into it.

He's a blessing to have. Dogs need a run? He's the first to grab their leashes. Cats' litter boxes need cleaning? He's there with a scoop in hand. The small collection of rodents' pens need a new layer of bedding? He's already headed to storage.

He comes back drenched in sweat from runs, his tank plastered to his chest. Sweaty thighs peeking out from below his shorts as he squats down to pet the happy, panting dogs. And you pass him a towel, and his smile just beams up at you. God he's adorable and hot all at once.

His arms flex against his shirt sleeves when he hefts the heavy bags of food up onto his shoulder and god if only he'd do that that you.

His hands are so gentle with the tiny new litter of cats that just came in, helping you clean them off and place them safely into the crate with their mum. need I say more

You learn more about each other. Where he's from, what he does for work, and of course you'd pinned military, but he doesn't quite go into the work that he does. He talks about the men he works with, and you start to recognize names like Price, Gaz, and Ghost. He even shows you pictures of the first two. Not the latter though.

And then another few weeks he's not there... You're starting to miss the loud Scottish voice that normally fills the space as you hose down the concrete patio in the back the shelter. Your thoughts drift to how last time you did this with him he had sprayed you very intentionally with the hose. And you nearly tackled him to wrap your soaking body around him. His hand discarding the hose and wrapping under your legs as he hoists you happily up into his arms and oh you were so close, laughing, smiling, teasing about getting soaked. You were definitely blushing as much as he was.

a couple of days later, just like he'd never left, he's back, helping you organize the larger storage closet. Sharing jokes and teasing. Until you have to reach across him and his face is so close to yours and he completes the distance, catching you oh so off guard but you melt into that kiss. and he presses and prods until your job to reorganize is interrupted by the sudden to fuck each other into the next dimension.

and then a few days later it's the same... You had simply gone to grab a new leash from the closet... he had come for a bag of dog food... or that's what he'd told you at least...

And then your bodies are close, his hand at the back of your neck, your hand travelling down and down, his mouth on yours, hot, needy, quick, and amazing. You're both happy to do it. And it seems you both don't think much of it.

This becomes a routine, in his oh too few volunteer days each month, you make a habit of occupying small, mostly private spaces of the shelter, the small break room, the storage closet, his car, your car. It's only been two or three months, and it's not like it's a big shelter, not that many employees, but damn if it doesn't excite you all the same.

And then after one of these sessions, as you're slipping you shirt on in the back of your car, he pecks a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth. "I'll be gone a few weeks this time, bonnie. Jus' though' I might warn ya." (his accent gets thicker when it's laced with lust, you've come to notice.)

And he is, gone a while, that is. And during this time one of your old flings comes to town... some business trip... and God is this one always a good time, so charming and kind, buys you chocolates and all, a good person truly, just not one to settle down. That's fine by you. So, you let them take you home, let them in your bed, and have a good time. And then they head back to whatever the hell fancy job they have in whatever town they live in now.

It's longer than you expect before John comes back. And when he does, he greets you with that charming smile and you put him to work almost immediately, and he's happy to get to cleaning the dog kennels with you. You get to talking, he asks how your past few weeks have been. And John is so easy to talk to. And you mention your old friend you visited, how they visited your home, even bought you chocolates, the goof. But John gets quiet at this... you don't mention it, not yet...

And then of course, he walks you out to your car that afternoon and of course you end up in the back of it (I should mention here that you do not own a small car, after being the animal lover you are, you need the space to load crates in the back seat) and something about how John takes you this time is needy, needier, possesive in the way he nips at your skin and presses against you.

And at the end of it, he leaves with the same gentle peck at the corner of your mouth, but this time there's no quip, no tease, just a "drive safe" and a gentle smile...

A few days later this man returns to the shelter and before he even asks what needs to get done, he's offering up a small box of chocolates with a bashful little smile.

You thank him and accept the chocolates. and then it's back to work. That evening though, after a particularly long day after getting three new dogs and a new cat, when John walks you to your car, you ask if he wants to go home with you. You'd thought about it all day... somewhere between cleaning and intaking the new animals, mustering up the courage to ask. He accepts with that same enthusiasm that the dogs have when someone walks in with their leashes.

You wake up tangled in him, his arm slung heavy over your waist, his chest warm against your back, one leg thrown over yours like he’s actively trying to wrestle you into the mattress in his sleep. And this man sleeps light, military training and all, but the second you start shifting to sneak out of bed, his grip tightens. "Where ya goin’, love?" all rough morning voice and sleep-heavy slur, nose nudging against your shoulder like he could just sink right back into you and stay there. (You do not go anywhere.)

And things stay the same, mostly. He still only comes around every few weeks, still volunteers, still fills the shelter with that chaotic, obnoxious, charming energy. Still gets drenched in sweat from running the dogs, still lifts those massive bags of food onto his shoulders like he’s personally showing off for you (and he is), still sneaks off into the storage closet with you when no one’s looking, grinning against your mouth before pressing you up against the nearest shelf.

But then, one evening, right as you're closing up the shelter, he lingers by the front desk. Hands shoved deep in his pockets. That telltale shift of weight from foot to foot like he's got something rattling around in his skull, something he's been turning over for a while now.

"Was thinkin'..." He exhales sharply, rubs a hand over the back of his neck, looking down at his boots like they’ve got the answers. "I've gotta go again, but maybe next time I’m back, we go out somewhere. A proper date, aye?"

And fuck. That shouldn’t make your stomach flip. But it does. You should say yes. You want to say yes. But you don't.

Because life is a cruel and petty little bastard, your old fling had waltzed back into town. Just for you. A familiar, easy thing. The kind of person you don’t have to think about too much. And for some reason, you say yes when they ask you to dinner. Maybe because you don’t want to wait for something uncertain. Maybe because John is John—flirty, gorgeous, disgustingly good at making you weak in the knees, but never around long enough for you to be sure. (And John doesn't show it, not outwardly, but it breaks his heart.)

And then John comes back. Finally. And he’s not alone. There is a mountain standing next to him. Big. Broad. Dressed head to toe in dark clothes and hoodie like he’s ready for spying, the lower half of his face covered by a black medical mask. He looks like he could crush a man with one hand and still have fingers left to spare. And his eyes, dark, cold, sharp as a fucking blade, land on you like he’s personally offended by your existence. Oh. Oh, this must be Ghost.

John, completely unfazed, grins. “Ghost wanted to see what all the fuss was about.” Ghost says nothing. Just stares. (You have never felt more judged in your life. The fuck did you do to make this walking fortress glare at you like that? You know he doesn’t know. There’s no way he knows. Right?)

And things go back to normal, kind of. John keeps showing up, keeps doing his usual thing. But there’s something off this time. A shift in the way he looks at you, something quietly considering behind his eyes. It all comes to a head one evening when you’re closing up together, standing in the back room trying to fix a shelving issue. He’s quiet. You’re quiet.

And then, you break first. Spill it out like you didn’t mean to—how your old fling wasn’t what you thought, how you shouldn’t have agreed in the first place, how you let yourself get caught up in something easy instead of something real. And John? He leans back against the counter, arms crossed, listening, nodding along like he’s already pieced this all together. Until you mutter, "And I don’t even fucking like chocolate."

And that is what makes him pause. And his brows pull together. Just a little. And then, in the softest, most John way possible—"...Oh."

And the next time he walks into the shelter, it’s not with chocolates.

It’s with a small paper bag. He hands it to you with a little smirk, and inside.

Fresh strawberries. From the farmer’s stand down the road. You’d only mentioned them once. Some passing comment made one day while you were both cleaning up in the yard outside. And John had remembered. And with a charming little smile, he takes your hand. "Let me take ya out properly." And you blink up at him, caught off guard by how easy, how simple he makes it sound. "I—yeah."

And yes, you go on that date. And yes, you end up back at your place. And yes, you have a very, very good night.

And yes, eventually, John introduces you to Ghost properly. (and Price and Gaz too, ah John and Kyle.)

And yes, somehow, someway, you end up with not just one, but two terrifyingly strong military men helping out at the shelter—John still enthusiastically doing everything he can, and Ghost looming in the doing every little thing you ask without question, surprisingly good with the most feral old cats, somehow terrifying and begrudgingly helpful all at once. (He makes it a point to lift two bags of dog food for every one John carries. Jesus Christ)

And yes, eventually, Ghost ends up in your bed too.

But that’s another story.

Thanks for reading.

[callofdoobie420]

Short ~lil~ ghoap thought…

Johnny who absolutely adores you in the most outward of ways. Fingers always intertwined with yours, kisses to your forehead, hand occasionally (okay all the time) sneaking down to your ass. Featherlight kisses ghosting over your cheeks and neck, even as you both sit with Simon on a massive picnic blanket in the park.

Simon who still shows his love when out and about, but he does this by following you and Johnny closely wherever you go, clocking any potential threats, and being constantly on alert so that neither you or Johnny have to be. A large hand to the small of your back whenever Johnny had to step away — couldn’t leave their sweet angel without a small touch.

While Johnny might be a soldier too, Simon has spent his whole life constantly on alert. He doesn’t mind giving the Scot a chance to just relax, and be happy with their bonnie lass.

And their sweet girl who always ensures they both feel equal love, even when they each show theirs differently. You’ve learned how to provide for each, in the way they love best.

(PS. I know there’s probably rough grammar, I do apologize! I just rambled this out of my head. Also I’m mid tax season so after April 15th I’ll be much better!!)

[verdantcreek]

art for sundowning by @losersimonriley ☀️

[gomzdrawfr]

gimme a kiss, Simon!

[4me2knowandyou2wonder]

Hey COD writers, I just want you to know that in some army pants, there are holes at the top of the main pockets for breathability. What I’m trying to say here is that if *someone* stuck their hand inside *someone elses* pocket—as long as that someone else doesn’t have their shirt tucked in super deep—this person could touch the other’s stomach and maybe even their treasure trial.

That’s all, thank you for your time.

[majinbangus]

Yeah, this would be them

Soap coming in with his arm wrapped around you and holding the leash to guard dog!Ghost's collar: Where's the captain?

Gaz, eyeing Ghost's leash: Um, whatcha got there?

Soap, squeezing you closer: My bonnie sweetheart <3

[a-5-m-0-d-3-u-5]

Have I ever even touched a COD game in my life? No.

Do I plan to? Who knows.

Am I smitten with 141 and crave male reader stuff, so want to offer it? Very much.

I just hope no one cares if I get them wrong lol

[thatoneautisticshark]

This, which I have been working on for ages and couldn't get right. They don't even fully fuck at the end lol.

But virgin soap gets his first dildo, and is feeling religious guilt. Price and Ghost help.

TW Sexually explicit, anxiety, religious guilt.

Johnny could hear his heartbeat in his ears as he carried the parcel through the halls. He felt like everyone knew exactly what was in the parcel, and everyone was staring.

Everyone knew good little Christian boy Johnny had bought a dildo.

He could feel his face heating up and had never been so grateful to see his door, quickly walking in and slamming the door.

He chucked the parcel on his bed, staring at it. He really bought this, and it was fine. It was natural to need release.

He tore open the parcel, revealing the unassuming black box, and jumped back as if he'd been burned.

Nope nope nope.

Never mind, he couldn't fucking do this.

He took about ten minutes to breath resting his head against the wall. He was being silly. He knew that.

But… he just couldn't.

But he also spent 60 bucks on that. He wasn't going to waste it. He needed to stop being a chicken, if only for the sake of his money.

He grabbed the box, ignoring his hands shaking and opened one of the flaps and into his hands fell… a small bottle of lube.

Strawberry flavoured.

Johnny squeaked, whole face turning bright red as he instinctively threw the bottle, it bouncing on his bed.

Strawberry flavoured? It was fucking flavoured? What the fuck? Oh he was going to hell for sure. As the lube came to a halt, he saw the note attached “A bonus because you are a fruit :)”

Johnny flushed, squeaking louder. Oh god, the lube was mocking him.

The lube knew.

He slid down the wall head between his knees, he needed to calm down. He wasn't going to die, no matter what his heart rate may suggest.

It was okay.It was lube and a dildo.

He nearly died on the regular for crying out loud, this was fine. It was no big deal.He grabbed the box. Pulling out the solid black dildo, feeling the weight in his hands, the silicon.

And nope no. He fucking couldn't. He shoved it and the lube away in a drawer if his night stand, burying his face in the pillow.

“Oh fuck I can't do this.”

It took him two days and about 60 different google searches and articles to finally pull it out again, setting it on his bed.

As he actually looked at it, he blinked in total disbelief. “For beginners? For beginners are they on fucking drugs this is huge … how am I even meant to… huh?”

Johnny sat on the bed, burying his head in his knees as tears streaked his face. He couldn't fucking do this, it was so wrong, he was guaranting himself a spot in hell by doing this.

God he was such a baby, a big strong military man fucking sobbing over a dildo!

He suddenly heard a knock on his door. “Johnny? Are you okay?”

Oh fuck that was Ghost.

“Mactavish? What's wrong?” Price was with him? Oh shit.

Johnny was so so glad he locked the door. He couldn't imagine his captain and Lieutenant walking in on this. Then he heard the door creaks open, and realised with absolute dread he in fact hadn't locked it.

And both of his bosses were walking in, on him sobbing on his head in front of a dildo. He couldn't move though, couldn't bring himself to sit up, to wipe his tears and tell them he was fine.

So instead he let his head drop against the pillows, still sobbing, albeit a little louder.

Price moved slowly into soaps field of vision. “Uhm… What happened son?” Soap heaved slightly still laying motionless on the bed and sobbing as he watched both Ghost and Prices eyes dart to the dildo.

Standing tall and proud on his pillow.

Ghost sat on the bed next to johnny, threading a hand into his mohawk. “Breathe Johnny. You're okay, what's going on?”

Johnny leaned into the hand, but continued to sob.

Price awkwardly patted his back “There there”

“God hates meeee!! He's gonna fucking smite me and I'm going to hell” Johnny burried his face back in the pillow, whole body shaking with sobs.

Ghosts voice came softer than Johnny had ever heard it. “God doesn't hate you, Johnny. What's wrong? Why do you think you are going to hell?”

Johnny gulped, breath hitching “Because I'm gayyy…. And like men … and I'm gonna burn in hell because I bought a dildooooo!”

His breath heaved again as he heard an inhale from one of the other men , but continues

”And it's a waste of money… b-because I can't even fucking … it's… I can'tttt it's confusing!” He heard an odd noise from Simon, but the hand in his hair didn't stop, and neither did Price patting his back.

Johnny was slowly beginning to register what he actually just said, to both his superiors, but didn't have time to back track before Simon was talking.

“Okay.. uh So… You've never done anything like this before… and you bought the dildo, but now you are feeling religious guilt… and you can't work out how to use it?”

Johnny flushed a bright red but nodded, slowly painstakingly lifting his head so he could see the other two men.

They were looking at each other silently communicating, something Johnny had always found exceedingly impressive -and hot. The way they just had to look at one another to decide something had always impressed Johnny.

However he was finding it much less cool when it was about him, he had no clue what they were working out about him, and it was humiliating and incredibly anxiety inducing.

Finally price silently nodded at Simon and the large man turned to Johnny, looking him dead in the eyes. “We could teach you Johnny, if you wanted.” Simon offered voice still that soft gentle tone as if Johnny would break if he was louder.

Then his brain suddenly caught up with what was said. He turned bright red, spluttering. They would help? What!?He wouldn't be against it, he loved both of them, and they were hot as fuck.

He really couldn't work this out alone. But where the hell did that offer come from?

Price seemed to take his silence as discomfort, moving to sit on the bed.

“Or we can just forget any of this happened if yo-”

Johnny scrambled to cut him off. “No no no no. I-...I want …” He gulped ..hoping that got the point across, without him having to explicitly say it.

Simon grinned, or atleast Johnny was fairly sure he did, because of the crinkle of his eyes. Something Johnny loved to pick up on.

Price moved a hand to gently stroke Johnny's thigh, nothing sexual about it, a simple bit of comfort, but it still made Johnny's dick throb.

“Okay… we'll discuss a few boundaries things and then start okay?”

Johnny nodded slowly sitting up, still bright pink, but he sat up anyways, squeaking as Ghost wrapped an arm round him, pulling him flush against that hot muscled chest.

Prices hands gently moved to the Scots hips, and he pressed a kiss to others forehead.

Simon rested his forehead against the back Johnny's head. “D’ye know safe words? Actually I'll assume not. Basically a way to say how you are feeling. So we'll just go traffic light okay”

Johnny frowned “What's the traffic light?” he murmured soft and uncertain.

Price smiled softly “It's a system of simple words to tell us how you are doing. So red is stop, Yellow is slow down, or take a break. Let you get your bearings, and green is all good.”

The captain gently rubbed his hands all up Johnny's torso, tough hands massaging the tension out of his muscles, letting the scot process.

Johnny nodded, committing it to memory, trying to calm his nerves, he knew he was okay, he trusted these two with his life, he could trust them with his virginity and arsehole.

He slowly relaxed against the chest of his lieutenant, leaning into the hands feeling up his body. It was okay, he knew this.

Simons deeper voice rumbled again, and Johnny could feel the chest under him vibrate. “If you say stop, we'll stop okay? Any time, no matter what. We want it to be good for you, alright love?”

And Johnny would be lying if he said that pet name didn't go right to his dick, the care and sweetness, while talking about fucking him, he nodded and felt himself being gently pushed down against the bed.

Price shifted gently placing pillows around Johnny..and then he placed a gentle kiss on his lips, before pulling back to watch the others reaction.

Johnny felt his whole face flush a bright pink, eyes blowing wide and mouth hanging open dumbly.

He had been kissed.

Kissed.

By Price! His hot arse captain. Price huffed slightly. “That okay lovie?”

He questioned softly while grabbing Soaps dildo and the strawberry lube, placing the dildo on the table, and the lube in Simon's hand.

Simon, who Johnny suddenly processed, had his mask off! Simon was completely bare faced, and he couldn't work out if Simon was pretty or hot. He was both so rugged and tough, with pretty curls and his soft eyes.

And Johnny swore if there was a heaven he was in it. Big gentle hands, he couldn't even tell who tugged his shirt over his head, and Simon dove down peppering gentle kisses all over Johnny's chest.

Johnny's head fell back against the pillows, a loud moan escaping his lips at the feeling the gentle kisses slowly turning more open mouthed and wet, Prices hand still on his hips.

It was already so so much, but it was …. Amazing. It felt so good he could barely register what was happening as hands roamed his skin, nails scraping and fingers squeezing.

Simon smirked as he took a nipple into his mouth, causing the Scots hips to buck up, and body tense.

Johnny was brought slightly back to reality by Prices hand finding his hair, grabbing but not yanking. Gently stroking it back. “Mouthy isn't Simon? Has an oral fixation I swear”

The normalcy of it could have made Johnny sob with relief, it was the men.he was comfortable with, and they were acting the same as always. It was so comfortable and safe.

Johnny barely got out an affirming hum, pressing his face against the hand in his hair, much like a cat. Ghost cooed softly placing wet, sloppy kisses down the Scots chest, stopping near the band of his trousers when the man under him tensed.

“Okay, Johnny? Can I keep going?”Johnny slowly nodded, uncertainly, although some of his fear disappeared once price tilted his head up, gently kissing him.

His lips moved clumsily bumping against prices, teeth gnashing slightly, until Price pulled back, still gently cupping Soaps jaw. “Lovie, have … have you ever kissed anyone?”

Johnny felt a bright red blush creeping up his face as he quickly shook his head.

Price's expression just softened even more. “Right. Just relax, let me kiss you, your lips will move naturally okay?”

Johnny nodded as those wonderful warm lips collided with his again, His captains tongue tracing his lips and hand cupping his face as if he were precious.

He had entirely forgotten about Simon until a warm heat engulfed his dick and his hips bucked up. He barely registered the slight gagging noise from below him, a guttural moan escaping his mouth.

He had never felt anything like that before it was so so hot. It felt amazing but weird.He was just getting his bearings slightly back, cracking his eyes open to see Simon, looking up at him through his lashes.

And then the fucking cunt hollowed his cheeks and sucked. Johnny's vision went white, eyes rolling back. He really felt Simon was attempting to suck his soul out through his dick.

He rolled over, a bit overwhelmed with sensations, burying his face in what he thought was a pillow, and quickly worked out was Price's thigh.

A warm hand came to rest in his hair again, and Price gently lifted his head. “colour, darling?"

Colour?

Johnny blinked dumbly at him, confused.

A thumb was gently rubbed along the bone under his eye. “Your colour love. Green, red or yellow” He clarified.

“Uhm..g-green.. it…it feels good” Johnny stuttered out, hiding his blushing face, as

Price cooed for communicating.

Johnny didn't think he'd ever been praised so much for talking. It was so overwhelming but so sweet.

He carefully cracked his eyes open looking down, and the sight made his dick throb. Simons hands were braced on the Scots thighs, and he was bobbing his head with fever.

He seemed to sense the gaze on him, looking up and making eye contact, directly while continuing to suck, before swallow Johnny all the way, nose buried in the dark curly pubes.

Johnny squeaked, cumming harder than he ever had before, cumming before he even realised he was. He buried his face in Price's thigh, moaning as waves of pleasure crashed over him.

He made incoherent noises, begging… for something, he didn't really know what he was begging for.

“Fuck … fuck… please..”

Price soothed him, letting him catch his breath until he finally looked down at Simon. Simon who had a mouth full of Johnny's cum, and was leaning up to kiss price with it.

Oh fuck.

His dick gave a valiant throb, even though there was no way in hell he could continue going. That was hot.

Price eagerly gulping down his cum, from Simons mouth, murmuring about how good it was.

God could get fucked, Johnny decided. He didn't give a shit was magical sky daddy felt, he evidently had never got his dick sucked like this.

[crashnbrn]

[hatsbuckets]

Howdy. sad widower!Price thoughts possessed me this mornin during class. Named the late wife Elise because it sounded pretty

cw: not proofread, Price cries, I cried. Poly141? Idk I love them. Let him cry and be held.

The bedroom was dim.

Low lamplight. Soft sheets tangled beneath Ghost and Soap, skin flushed and breath just beginning to steady. They hadn’t rushed. Not today, not with each other. It was slow, grounding, present.

Ghost lay on his side, one hand trailing up and down Soap's bare back. The smaller hummed into the larger's chest, leg curled around his hip.

Then the door opened.

They both looked up.

Price stood in the doorway, half-shadowed, chest rising slow, eyes unreadable. He didn’t speak. Just looked at them like they were sunlight through fog.

Soap sat up first. “Hey, Cap.”

Ghost shifted too. “You alright?”

Price nodded, but it wasn’t real.

They saw it. Felt it. So Soap held out a hand.

“Come 'ere.”

...

He moved without a word.

Tugged his shirt off as he walked. Climbed into the bed like he was afraid it might disappear beneath him. Like he needed to feel them to believe they were real.

Ghost curled up behind him. Soap pressed to his front. Their warmth soaked into him, arms, legs, breath against his skin.

He didn’t move, stuck, frozen, just breathing.

Until Soap whispered, “You don’t 'ave to be strong right now, aye?”

That’s when he broke.

The first sound was a gasp. Then a quiet sob, swallowed into Soap's hair.

He held him tighter. Ghost's arm wrapped firm around his waist.

Price shook, big, silent tremors that started in his chest and worked their way out. His hand clutched at Soap's side like a lifeline. Ghost kissed the back of his neck, steady and grounding.

“I’m sorry,” Price choked out. “I just—fuck—I didn’t mean to—”

“You’re okay,” Soap whispered. “We’ve got ye.”

“It’s today,” he breathed. “It’s our anniversary. Elise and me.”

Soap froze, just a second. Then melted against him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Oh, John…”

“I didn’t even plan to say anything,” he said. “Didn’t want to make it about me, bring it down on you. But I walked in and saw you two like that and it was so... good. It was warm and safe and I just—she’d love you. She’d love all of this.”

He broke again.

“I miss her.”

Soap kissed his cheek. His voice cracked, too. “We miss her with you.”

Ghost tightened his hold, as if it were possible to press closer

They didn’t try to fix it. They just held him.

Three bodies tangled together, wrapped in grief and love and the unbearable gift of still having each other.

Price's breathing slowed eventually. And when he spoke again, it was quieter.

“She wanted me to find this, something. Even when I told her I wouldn’t. Couldn’t. She said… someday, love. And now it’s here. And I’m so grateful it hurts.”

Soap whispered, “mm, glad she was right.”

And Ghost, gentle, steady, pressed another kiss to Price's neck and said:

“We’re not here instead of her, Price. We’re here because of her.”

...

The room was quiet now.

Price's breathing had evened out.

Soap was still pressed to his chest, his hand stroking his side in long, gentle motions.

Ghost's arm stayed firm around his middle, thumb rubbing slow circles just above his navel.

It was warm, close, sacred.

They didn't move when the door creaked softly.

Gaz stood there in the doorway, hair tousled, wearing an oversized hoodie and sleep-wrinkled boxers. His expression was soft. Eyes heavy-lidded, voice low, “Didn’t mean to interrupt."

Soap gave the smallest smile. “You didn’t.”

He looked at Price. Saw the faint red at his cheeks, the glossy sheen to his lashes, the way he was tucked between them like the world had finally let him rest.

Gaz's gaze flicked back to Soap.

He nodded. Without another word, he turned back into the hallway.

A minute later he returned with a thick, oversized blanket, one of the big ones he kept tucked in his footlocker. Heavy. Soft. Worn.

Without speaking, he draped it over the three of them, gently adjusting the edges around their shoulders, tugging the ends over their legs.

Soap blinked up at him. “You’re a good man,” he whispered.

Gaz smiled. Reached down and brushed a thumb along his temple.

“So are you.”

He climbed onto the bed, settling against Soap's back, arm slipping under his, forehead brushing against the back of his neck.

Four of them, layered together.

All breathing the same breath.

No one said another word because Gaz had brought what mattered most:

Warmth. Love. Wrapped in soft fabric.

[temeyes]

Hello! Ik you probably hear that a lot but I wanted to tell you that I absolutely love your art. It's so smooth and aesthetically pleasing, also I love your version of Johny and Simon. Also good luck on getting your tattoo done!

~🐸 @froggy-anon

aHIII thank u so much sweet sweet froggy anon!!! <33 and my tatt session went pretty nicely yesterday actually and i'm LOVING it! (tho i'm planning to have it retouched cuz i really want it to look more like ghost's skull plate LMAO)

here's a quick dood of johnny and simon w/ my ghostsoap tatt for u froggy anon so you, and everyone else, can see AHSAHSH mwAH

[jazmeanb]

Uploading the WIP. Special thanks to @ave661 for their renders. I owe you my life (✿◦’ᴗ˘◦)♡

[majinbangus]

um.

making guard dog!Ghost wear tail buttplug??

is that something anyone is interested in?

[yourdeerauntsally]

Chapter 2 of Sweet on You (sugar daddy Soap and sugar baby Ghost) is live!!