#flight of fancy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lay-z · 1 year ago

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Flight of fancy ~ 1 | call of duty:mw

SUMMARY: Sometimes dreams can become reality. PAIRING: Ghost x f!Reader x Soap WARNINGS/INFO: 18+ ONLY | smut; strong language/cussing; threesome; some fluff; praise kink; size kink; unprotected sex; soft!dom/sub; non-canon/pre-canon

The intense throbbing between your legs and lower belly, accompanied by your increasing heart rate, make it harder for your subconsciousness to keep the grip on the intense scene you are experiencing.

The rough touch of gloved fingertips tickling along your arched spine and squeezing your heated flesh, sounds of your swallowed moans and needy whimpers, the feeling of a man, thick and warm, deep inside you as he takes you from behind – all of it real, forbidden, and so very sinful. The Sergeant says you must be quiet but does everything to make you mewl in the same breath. It makes your toes curl, dig into the floor, and tears well in your eyes.

Then, there is another strong hand grabbing your chin, squeezing it lightly while his gloved thumb strokes your lower lip before you open your mouth oh so eagerly. The Lieutenant shouldn't be here, but he is, of course he is. You hear a low chuckle, muffled by his skull mask, as he towers over you, watching with a kind of hungry intensity that causes you to tremble.

The Sergeant joins in the teasing. They say something, mutter praises and profanities to you; filthy things you hear but cannot quite make out. He's next in line, judging by the outline of his large erection straining against his dark combat pants. Your pussy clenches around the cock inside you, and the man behind you sputters curses under his breath.

Images and figures start blurring together into surrealism, no matter how much you try to cling to them, while the delightful pulsing in your groins lingers when your eyes start fluttering, regaining sight as you eventually wake from a deep, heavy slumber.

You squint your eyes against the dim light of the room, sniffling as you notice the tip of your nose is numbed by the cold while your body seems to be burning up. It takes another few seconds of absentness before you realize someone's been shaking you by the shoulders.

"Ah fuck...what? Wha – "

"Steamin' Jesus, lass, what kinda nightmare were ye havin’?”

Soap kneels at your side and helps along as you struggle to sit up straighter in the tattered armchair; now painfully aware of the slickness between your thighs and thus your soaked panties sticking to your pussy. He was inside you, fucking you throughout, just a moment ago; what the hell is he talking about?

You rub your eyes more forceful than necessary, until the delicate skin on your face burns from the contact, and the young Sergeant's eyes study yours for a moment, not missing your flushed cheeks and heavily dilated pupils while you avoid his worried gaze.

"Those pills knocked ye out good, huh?" Soap snickers to himself as he grabs the canteen attached to the side of his belt. "Here, have a drink", he says and unscrews the flask before holding it up to your lips.

You swallow hard and notice how dry your mouth has gotten. It was just a wet dream. A fucking wet dream! Your stomach drops as reality finally hits you like a Humvee going full-speed, and you hope Soap doesn't notice the shaky breath you exhale. You’re on a bloody mission, you caution yourself; sex should be the very last priority on your mind right now!

"Thanks", you mutter swiftly before taking a big gulp of water. The coolness calms your heated body and edgy nerves enough to collect yourself momentarily; you let out a profound sigh as you hand the canteen over again.

"Remind me never to touch that stuff again, yeah? Fuckin’ hell!", you cuss, rubbing some feeling into your frozen nose tip.

Soap chuckles as he gets up, now holding his gloved hand out to you, and you seize him up involuntarily, wondering for just a fleeting moment, if his touch on your bare skin would feel the way it did in your dream, if his cock would fill you up as deliciously as it did then. However, you force the thought away from your mind, ignore the shudder running down your back as you grab his hand, and Soap pulls you up effortlessly while he talks into his comms.

"No need to worry, Lt. She's fine, all clear."

"Affirmative, Johnny."

Ghost' response comes just a second later as if he has been waiting for that info.

"You told the Lt. that I was having a... nightmare?", you ask tentatively, brows furrowed in mock amusement to mask the discombobulation arising behind your meticulous façade of professionalism and toughness; one you have built for yourself after years of serving as a SAS operator and working with TF-141 especially.

Soap sees right through your bullshit though as you see the corner of his mouth twitch upwards.

"Course I did. Thought ye were havin' a seizure or stress-related episode or somethin’ like that", he answers nonchalantly, adding a shrug. "Lt.'s on watch, so I had to tell him, no? Besides, ye looked pretty ah... restless."

Then Soap turns his back to you, saunters over to his corner in the living room of the abandoned single-family home, your makeshift hideout for the night, and flops down on the ragged couch, crossing his arms behind his head. He doesn't bother taking off his tac-vest first, or any other gear nor armour for that matter.

“Yer alright though, right?”

“Aye, I’m fine... I think.”

You sink deeper into the armchair as you briefly think about recounting your dream to him, though as soon as it crosses your mind, you bite your tongue to keep yourself from telling on yourself.

“Mind if I, uh, step outside for a moment? Get some air?”

Soap drapes one arm over his eyes then and gives you a thumbs-up with the other.

“Turn the light off when ye leave, aye? Am pure done in.”

You smile to yourself as you put your gear back on and grab your rifle before turning off the small, dimmed camping lamp in the corner of the room.

The fresh night air clears your hazy mind and seems to grant you a boost of new energy with each deep breath you take.

There is no sign of civilization here, the next road is some klicks away from your position, the next village or town even further and the only sounds surrounding are those of wildlife you can only assutheis there and the wind blowing through the old, wooden window shutters.

Yet you notice the presence of another human being lurking in the deeper shadows, someone who naturally becomes one with them, and even though you know who it is, the thought of Ghost stalking you makes your blood run hot and the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention.

"Evenin', Sergeant. Feeling any better?"

The Lieutenant's low, baritone voice cuts through the silence along with his heavy footsteps coming towards you. Him and you have established an awfully formal and gratuitous way of speaking to each other on missions.

You spot the white of his skull balaclava before anything else.

"I'm fine, yes. Thank you", you lie through your teeth, now glad for the darkness covering up for you. You can still feel the evidence of your arousal with every step you take, though you try to ignore it. It feels like a dying flame too eager to be lit up again; all you need is air, someone gently blowing on it.

"Wanna talk about it?", he asks gruffly as he comes to stand next to you, scouting the darkness ahead. To outsiders, it may not sound like it, but Ghost genuinely cares about his people; he's just always so serious around you.

You consider your options, every possible outcome, and perhaps you're silent for a brief moment too long, or Ghost knows you too well already.

"You're overthinking again, Sergeant"

"I'm just contemplating my answer, sir"

He scoffs quietly and you feel his piercing gaze on you though you don't dare to turn your head to look up and make sure.

"Should I be worried then? We're in the middle of a mission. I need ya to be focused, but if you're having any troubles then –“

"No, sir", you cut him off sharply. The last things you want any one of your comrades or superiors to do is worry or question your abilities and mental state. "I... I wasn't having a nightmare."

He seems taken aback for a moment, or simply pissed at you for disrespecting him. Either way, he silently waits for an explanation, or so you think and you cringe internally, biting the tip of your tongue, as you crumble like house of cards under his sheer presence.

"It was quite the opposite of a nightmare", you blurt out eventually, and you can only imagine the huge question mark now floating above his head.

"Answers, Sergeant. This ain't no children's Q&A", he demands.

"Perhaps not, but if you want to know, questions would make it easier to talk about", you insist, fully aware you're making a big mistake though your mouth seems to move on its own now.

Silence again, and then you think your comms crinkle to life as someone, perhaps Soap, tries to radio in, but nothing follows.

"It was a good dream then?", Ghost asks then, fully ignoring the sound that came through both your comms.

You hesitate, embarrassed at last, but nod anyway.

"Affirmative"

"Family friendly?"

"No, not at all", you answer, shaking your head as you try not to laugh. What an odd way of phrasing that question, you muse.

"So, let me get this straight, you had us worried 'cause you had a wet dream? Like a bloody teenager?"

There's a hint of amusement in his voice, professionally covered by the sternness of his tone. You clear your throat awkwardly, busted after all.

"Basically, yes, but I do appreciate your concern, Lieutenant"

The matter is done for you, you shouldn’t be playing with fire that openly anyway, though you notice the sudden tension in the air around you, and when you try to ask him if you should take up on guard duty next, he cuts you off this time.

"So, who was involved then?"

Now you're the one taken aback by that question, and Ghost notices right away, but he insists.

"MacTavish?"

You swallow hard as memories of your dream flash before your inner eye; Soap eating and fingering your pussy to prepare you for his thick cock, licking your juices off his wet gloves and slathering his shaft with them before sliding in with one firm thrust of his hips. Him bending you over the nearest table and fucking you until your vision gets blurry with ecstasy.

"Affirmative", you reply meekly and clear your throat once more. He doesn't react much, but his voice becomes lower, huskier, as he continues his interrogation.

"And what did Sergeant MacTavish do to you?"

"He took me... from behind, uh, doggy style, and we had to be quiet because we couldn't get caught doing it... obviously"

"Ah, yes, good ol' policies and regulations, innit?", he mocks wryly. "And did you enjoy it? Soap fuckin’ you doggy?"

You cringe and hesitate; you’re not used to the Lt. using such colourful language in that context, though you must admit, it only adds fuel to your unfortunate state of horniness.

"I mean...yes. I guess my subconscious mind did enjoy it. A lot actually, according to the evidence in m–"

Stopping yourself before the words can get past your lips, you ignore the way your heart skips a violent beat and try to regain your composure instead. That’s one too much inappropriate info, you figure.

Albeit, it seems Ghost has taken another step towards you because now he is practically towering. The way he's standing in front of you, mask on his face, assault rifle in his mammoth hands, a permanent aura of authority surrounding him – this man is nothing short of an enigma. Yet again his presence is enough to make you talk.

“Anyone else involved?”

“Yes”

“And what exactly did I do to you?”

It’s the clichéd quiet breath that hitches in your throat when the Lieutenant asks so very smugly, and then you’re gritting your teeth to resist the urge to rub your thighs together. He must be smirking, you judge, there’s no way he isn’t, as pleased as he sounded though his reaction is once again carefully hidden by his balaclava.

“You... you caught us”, you stammer eventually.

“How unfortunate for you, Sergeant”, Ghost replies with the slightest hint of a chuckle.

The sound gives you flashbacks, and suddenly, you have the phantom feeling of his gloved hand gripping your chin, his thumb stroking over your bottom lip, and the sound of his combat pants unzipping echoes in your ears.

“Yes, sir, very unfortunate”, you dare to tease and watch his reaction though there is none; Ghost simply accepts your response. Perhaps he didn’t pick up on your sarcasm...oh, well.

“You should get back inside, catch some sleep maybe. We’re leaving before sunrise. Price contacted me, I got new orders for us”

His voice is dry, strapped from any humour or undertone; he rolls his broad shoulders and adjusts his stance before nodding at you to go ahead.

“Yes, sir”, you affirm as you straighten your own shoulders, gripping your rifle more firmly again before turning on your heels. Back to business it is.

“And Sergeant?”, Ghost calls out to you after you’ve passed him by a few paces.

“Yes, sir?”

“Better keep your hands off those sleeping pills from now on.”

To be continued...