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sunni-stuff · 3 months ago

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Part 4

Soap’s eyebrows lifted with a curious glint in his eye as he looked from you to Adira, a playful grin edging onto his face. He leaned in, never one to miss a chance at a bit of friendly prodding.

“So… you’re married?” he asked, his tone as light as his smirk.

You laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Haha! No, I’m not.” You gave Adira’s tiny hand a gentle squeeze, glancing down at her with a smile that softened every edge on your face.

Soap tilted his head, pretending to be shocked. “A bonnie lass like yerself? Unmarried?” he teased, hand on his chest as though it were a crime.

“Guess I’m a rare breed,” you replied with a grin, chuckling as you shifted Adira’s hand in yours.

Soap’s face lit up at your response, as if he’d just been given the most interesting bit of news he’d heard all week. He shot Ghost a quick look, but Ghost was still watching Adira, his gaze softened with something unreadable.

Meanwhile, Gaz wasn't fascinated by Soap's ability to make anyone at ease, the man was a cassanova. Roach watched Adira with curiosity, as though piecing together a puzzle he hadn’t realized existed until now. Price stood off to the side, arms crossed, silently observing the whole scene.

“If you aren’t married, how’d you get this little one?” Soap pushed, grinning as he wiggled a playful finger in Adira’s direction.

Adira’s gaze snapped up from Ghost to the man with the funny hair, her little brow furrowing as she studied Soap with a mix of curiosity and caution. She leaned into your leg, clearly wary, but her attention stayed on the finger waving in front of her.

You chuckled, brushing a hand over Adira’s head to reassure her. “Long story,” you replied, smiling. “Let’s just say she was an unexpected blessing.”

Soap laughed softly, glancing at Ghost with a gleam in his eye. “Ah, aye, life’s full of surprises, eh?”

Ghost, who had been studying Adira in silence, clenched his jaw, shifting uncomfortably as Soap’s words hit a little too close to home.

“I used to be really wild back in the day,” you admitted with a sheepish grin, a hint of nostalgia coloring your tone as you thought back to those not-so-distant years.

Soap wasn’t quite done yet, though. “Does the father know?” he threw a quick glance at Ghost, who had just risen from his crouched position. A new tension ran through Ghost’s frame, his stance rigid, as if the question had struck something he’d rather not confront.

You hesitated, a shadow crossing your expression before you shook your head. “No, he doesn’t… He, uh, probably has no idea.”

Ghost’s jaw tightened, his gaze flickering from you to Adira, who was absorbed in her drink, unaware of the intensity surrounding her. His shoulders stiffened, and for a split second, he looked as though he wanted to speak—but whatever words he had caught in his throat, locked behind his silence.

"I see, well. I'm sorry if I took up your time, ma’am, you've been a nice chat," Soap said, his voice softening with a touch of politeness, his grin still present but more reserved now.

You nodded, giving Adira’s hand a gentle tug as you continued on your way, the soft crunch of snow beneath your boots the only sound accompanying your steps. The blue sky stretched above, peaceful, serene. As you walked, Adira turned her head, glancing back at Ghost one final time. She refused to let go of her cup, her small fingers gripping it tightly, but she lifted her other hand in a small, hesitant wave. "Bye-bye," she whispered, her voice soft but sweet.

Ghost’s gaze lingered, but he didn’t move. His expression was unreadable, a mixture of things churning behind those eyes.

Price let out a heavy sigh, crossing his arms and facing Ghost. “So... what’s the plan?” he asked, his tone both blunt and expectant, clearly waiting for some kind of direction. The rest of the team stood in silence, watching the exchange unfold.

Ghost didn’t answer immediately. His gaze remained on you and Adira, watching you both disappear further down the street, the distance growing with each step. The soft crunch of snow under your boots was the only sound in the quiet winter air. He didn’t even notice Price's voice until the man spoke again, closer now, with a slight edge to his tone.

"Ghost, talk to me. What’s the plan here?”

Finally, Ghost shifted, his shoulders tense, his jaw clenched as he turned to face Price. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—something caught between anger, confusion, and a deep, gnawing regret.

"I don't know," he muttered, the words barely escaping his lips. "I wasn't expecting this. Hell, I didn't even know she existed." His voice was low, strained, but there was a quiet honesty to it, as if he was trying to process something that didn’t make sense.

Soap stepped closer, his expression serious for once. "What now, Ghost? We can help. But you need to tell us what's going on."

Ghost finally looked away, his attention drawn to the ground, his fingers twitching like he was trying to find something to hold onto. "I don't even know where to start," he admitted. "All I know is... I saw her. And it hit me like a fucking truck."

Roach, always one to stay in the background, spoke up. “Maybe it’s time to talk to her, yeah? Figure out where to go from here?”

Price’s eyes narrowed, his stern gaze shifting to Ghost, assessing him. “And what exactly do you want from us? You’re in this, whether you like it or not.”

Ghost let out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know,” he repeated, voice hoarse. “But I can’t just let her slip away.”

A silence stretched between them, heavy and thick, as the weight of the situation settled in. Then, slowly, Ghost nodded. “I’ll figure it out. Just… not now. Not here.” His eyes flicked toward the street where you had disappeared, and something in his gaze softened, just for a moment, before the mask fell back into place.

Price gave a single nod. "Alright. But we stick together on this. You’re not doing it alone, Ghost."

The team stood together for a moment longer, the wind howling through the alley, before they slowly began to move, their steps trailing off into the winter evening. The silence that hung between them was thick with uncertainty. No one knew what came next, but they knew one thing for sure: whatever happened, they were in this together.

A month passed, the team giving Ghost the space he needed to process the whirlwind that had hit him. They all knew this was something he had to handle on his own terms, but that didn't mean the questions didn't linger. What did it mean for the future? What did he want? The answers were still unclear, even to Ghost himself.

But Soap, ever the persistent one, wasn’t content to let things sit in limbo. He knew Ghost, knew how his mind worked, and that sometimes the best way to breakthrough was to take small steps. And if that meant subtly nudging you into the picture, then so be it. He’d always been good at this—at slipping in the background, making things happen without anyone noticing.

So, Soap started to "accidentally" run nto you. At the park, when you were out with Adira, he'd make sure to be in the same place at the same time, offering a casual greeting. It always started simple, harmless, with a nod or a small comment about the weather. Then, of course, there was that coffee shop where you'd gone to get hot chocolate for Adira.

The first time he "bumped" into you there, it was nothing more than a quick exchange. A question about the drink, a comment on the cold weather, just the usual small talk. But Johnny's natural charm and ease made you relax, and made the conversation flow without much effort. Over time, those small moments grew. You'd smile when you'd see him, and he'd greet you with the same friendly energy, always leaving you feeling at ease. No pressure, just casual.

And slowly, ever so slowly, Johnny began to warm you up to the idea of him. It wasn't much at first—a smile here, a shared laugh there—but he knew what he was doing. He wasn't pushing, just letting the connection build at its own pace. The more you saw him, the more comfortable you felt. The more you talked, the more you found yourself enjoying the interactions, even if they were brief.

One evening, Johnny sat beside you on the park bench, casually leaning back as Adira bounced around in the snow, her laughter filling the crisp air. The sound was contagious, and for a moment, you let yourself relax, watching her with a soft smile.

"So, me and a couple friends are meeting up at Leslie's this weekend," Johnny said, his tone light but with a hint of something more. "Would you be interested?"

You snorted, expecting the usual joke or teasing, but when you glanced over at him, his expression was far more serious than you anticipated. For a moment, you considered dismissing it. After all, Leslie's? A pub? That was a far cry from the cozy routine you’d built for yourself with Adira.

“Seriously?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. "I don't think I fit the scene."

Johnny shrugged nonchalantly, the corner of his mouth lifting in that playful grin of his. “Please. It'll just be like old times.”

Your mind immediately wandered, trying to understand what he meant by that. What was it about old times that Johnny thought might appeal to you? You didn’t exactly have a wild past to cling to. Sure, you’d had your moments, but those felt long behind you now.

Still, something about the invitation lingered. A night out... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. You hadn’t done anything for you in a while. And maybe, just maybe, it would be nice to let someone else take care of the night for once. No worrying about Adira, no responsibilities for a few hours. Just some fun, whatever that meant now.

You hesitated, looking down at Adira as she made another snow angel, oblivious to the conversation happening nearby. She’d be fine, right? And you could leave if things felt uncomfortable.

“Alright,” you finally said, meeting Johnny’s gaze with a reluctant but genuine smile. "I'll join you. But only if it’s not as crazy as you’re making it sound."

Johnny’s grin widened, and you could tell he was already mentally planning the evening, no doubt with some plan to ease you in without overwhelming you. He stood up, dusting off the snow on his pants as he glanced back at you.

“Deal. I’ll make sure it’s a night to remember.”

You just hoped he wasn’t overselling it.

The weekend seemed to arrive so fast, and here you were, standing outside your apartment, nervously adjusting your blue blouse and jeans. It wasn’t exactly the type of outfit you thought would fit a night out, but it was the best you could do. Most of your wardrobe these days consisted of comfortable clothes, ones that could be easily changed or wiped clean in case Adira had another of her toddler mishaps. Sexy or flirty clothes were a distant memory, tucked away in a drawer somewhere, gathering dust.

Adira stood in the doorway, clutching her little stuffed bear to her chest, eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears. The sight hit you harder than you expected. You knelt down in front of her, your heart sinking at the sight of her teary eyes. “I’ll be back in a couple hours, I promise,” you said, your voice gentle but firm, reaching out to her with a reassuring smile.

Adira sniffled, her tiny hand coming up to rub her eyes, but she didn’t break her stare. You held out your pinky, the gesture as familiar as breathing. Slowly, she reached out, her small finger wrapping around yours with the same trust she always had. The connection was brief, but it felt like a promise, one that you hoped would calm her.

"I won't be out long," you said softly to the friend you’d left with her. "And you, be good for Auntie too." The last part was directed at Adira, though the words felt bittersweet on your tongue.

Adira nodded, but her face still held that sadness, that uncertainty of what the night would bring without you.

Standing up, you ruffled her hair and offered a small, hopeful smile. “I’ll be back before you know it. Just a little fun for Mama, okay?”

Her small nod didn’t do much to ease the tightness in your chest, but you turned and gave her one last look before stepping outside. The cool evening air wrapped around you, a contrast to the warmth of the apartment behind you, but you pushed the feeling away. Tonight was for you, however strange that sounded.

Locking the door behind you, you felt a flutter of nerves in your stomach. This wasn’t just any night out. It was a night with Johnny, with his friends, with the possibility of reconnecting to parts of yourself you’d set aside for so long.

Arriving outside the establishment, the familiar hum of chatter and music filled the night air, but what caught your attention first was Johnny standing outside, leaning against the brick wall, checking his watch. The moment his eyes met yours, they lit up, his expression shifting from casual to something almost... eager.

“Well, well, look at you,” he said with that trademark wink of his, his gaze raking over you with a genuine appreciation that made you feel suddenly self-conscious. “You clean up well.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at your lips. It was hard to resist the easy charm of Johnny.

“Let’s just hope I survive this night,” you muttered, though the words were more for yourself than him. You weren’t sure what to expect tonight, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that things might not go as smoothly as Johnny seemed to think.

Johnny chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. “I’m sure you will. Now, let’s get going before I change my mind.”

With that, you fell into step beside him, the weight of your hand at your side suddenly feeling strange in the cool night air. He led you toward the door, and as you entered the dimly lit space of the bar, your eyes scanned the room.

It was bustling, a mix of regulars and newcomers, all seeking solace or company for the night. It smelled of beer, whiskey, and the faintest hint of fried food, a familiar and welcoming kind of atmosphere. But as soon as you stepped inside, your nerves shot back up again. You tried not to let the nerves show, but they were there, itching under your skin.

What you didn’t notice, as you made your way to the bar, was the group inside. Ghost, Price, Gaz, Roach—quietly observing, waiting for their chance to either speak to you or simply let you slip through their fingers once more. Ghost’s eyes tracked you the moment you stepped inside, and there was a hesitation in his gaze, something raw and almost pained that flickered in and out.

For a moment, Ghost didn’t move, didn’t speak. He simply watched you, aware that the moment he’d been dreading—he had finally stumbled into. Your gaze met his across the room, the flicker of recognition passing between you both. But that was it. You didn’t remember. You didn’t know him. You didn’t know what he was to you.

Approaching the bar, you saw that Johnny was already leaning in, chatting with the bartender, exchanging friendly banter. You barely heard the words, only caught up in the feeling that something was different. Something you couldn’t quite place. You glanced back at the table where those men sat. They weren’t talking, but their eyes were all trained on you, as if waiting for something to happen.

Your heart raced without explanation. Ghost’s eyes—those eyes—stayed locked on you. He didn’t know how to approach, how to change what had already seemingly been set in stone. What was he supposed to say? What was the plan now that you were here, so close? God, why the fuck did johnny do this.

Johnny leaned toward you again, a soft smile curling his lips. “You good, love?” he asked, his voice pulling you back to the present.

“Yeah,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. You forced a smile, trying to ignore the uneasy tension brewing in your chest. “Just... getting used to being out.”

Johnny winked again, oblivious to the chaos of emotions swirling within you. “It’s all good. Let’s have some fun tonight, yeah?”

Ghost’s fist clenched involuntarily under the table. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this distance, this silent acknowledgment of his role, or how long he could ignore what it meant to see you here now.

“You’ll fit right in,” Johnny said, though there was a hint of something deeper behind his words. “Just a bunch of mates enjoying a drink, nothing crazy.” Johnny leads you over to the table, you expected to be met with… well you didn't quite know what.

Price leaned back in his seat, cigar in hand, a soft smile on his weathered face as he regarded you with a raised brow. “Didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

"Neither did I," you muttered under your breath, forcing a smile and doing your best to ignore the gnawing feeling that lingered when you looked at him. You hadn’t quite expected this part of the evening.

“I’m just here for a drink, nothing more,” you said, looking over at Johnny was getting comfortable in his chair.

“Well, pull up a seat, love,” Price said, motioning to the empty spot next to him. “We’re all friends here.”

You hesitated but made your way over, perching yourself on the seat next to him. The sound of the glass being slid toward you, the clink of ice against glass, broke through the chatter around you. Your nerves buzzed as you focused on the drink in front of you, trying to ignore the sudden realization of just how different this was from the quiet, routine life you had at home with Adira.

“Enjoy yourself,” Price said with an air of casual amusement, leaning back in his chair. “This is all new for you, isn’t it?”

You raised an eyebrow, not wanting to admit just how out of place you felt in the moment. Instead, you took a sip of your drink, the burn of whiskey warming you from the inside out.

You laugh lightly, a bit awkwardly, trying to shake off the nerves that gnawed at you. "Yeah, this all a bit... newish. I haven't been out like this in years honestly," you admit, taking a deep breath and glancing around the bar. The warmth of the space was a welcome contrast to the chill outside, but the sight of the men made you feel more like a fish out of water than ever.

Johnny claps you on the back with an easy grin, clearly trying to make you feel more comfortable. “These are my mates. Price, Kyle, Gary, and Simon," he introduces with a flourish, motioning to each man in turn.

You give them all a polite smile, not quite sure what to make of them just yet. There was something about the way they carried themselves, all standing a little apart from the crowd, that made it clear they were more than just regulars at the pub. But you didn’t have time to focus too much on that right now. You were trying to just survive the night.

Price, who looked a bit older than the rest, nods at you, his gaze thoughtful, almost cautious. “Nice to meet you,” he says in a tone that is polite but distant, as though he’s waiting for something, some sign.

Kyle, as Johnny had called him—gives you a friendly nod, a playful glint in his eyes, but there's a strange sharpness to his look that you can’t quite place. “Pleasure," he says, offering you a tight smile.

Gary simply gives you a quick but sincere nod. His eyes linger on you just long enough for you to catch a flicker of interest before he looks away.

And then there’s Simon. His presence, as always, is quieter, more intense. He’s sitting in the middle, arms crossed, his gaze fixed directly on you. You can feel the weight of it, though. It’s impossible not to. There was something you couldn't place with him though you couldn’t see too well under the dim light.

You try to shake off the unease creeping up your spine. “Nice to meet you all," you reply, your voice warmer than you feel.

Johnny, oblivious to the awkwardness in the air, slaps the bar and gives a nod. “Alright, drinks all around, yeah? Let’s get this party started!” he declares, pulling the group into the rhythm of the night.

As the revelry began your stomach churns slightly, a sense of unease still lingering despite the distraction. You knew something was off, something you couldn’t quite put into words. It wasn’t just the men—it was the way Simon’s gaze lingered on you, the way he looked at you as if he were waiting for something. It unsettled you, but you couldn’t figure out why.

Johnny, seemingly oblivious to your tension, slides a drink toward you. “First round’s on me," he grins, the clink of glass against the table snapping you back to the present. "Here’s to a good night.”.

You took a deep breath, swallowing down the nerves that still clung to you. This was supposed to be a night out, after all. A chance to shake off the past, to let loose just a little. You couldn’t let the weight of everything pull you under before you even tried. What would be the point if you didn’t at least try and enjoy yourself?

Shaking the tension from your shoulders, you took a sip of your drink, the burn of alcohol easing the knot in your stomach just slightly. The guys were chatting among themselves, Johnny’s laughter cutting through the low hum of the bar as he joked with Kyle. Price was listening intently, nodding along while Gary seemed content to let the others talk, his eyes occasionally flicking to you, though his gaze didn’t linger long.

And then there was Simon.

His presence loomed even when he wasn’t speaking, his broad frame leaning against the bar just slightly, face half hidden by the shadows. You caught his eyes for a split second, the intensity of his stare making your pulse hitch. You quickly looked away, focusing on your drink, your nerves creeping back up despite the effort to push them aside.

You could feel his gaze on you, though, like a weight pressing against your back. You tried not to let it show, tried not to acknowledge how his proximity seemed to pull at something inside you, but it was impossible to ignore. There was a pull, something in the air, but you couldn’t quite grasp it.

Sighing inwardly, you turned your attention back to the others. Just enjoy yourself, you remind yourself again. Don’t think about him. Don’t think about any of it.

Johnny clinked his glass against yours, a grin on his face. “Here’s to not letting the night pass us by,” he said with a wink, and you couldn’t help but smile back, lifting your glass.

“Cheers,” you said, the warmth of the alcohol giving you just the nudge you needed to ease into the evening. For now, you’d ignore the tight feeling in your chest. You’d enjoy yourself.

But the eyes that lingered on you would remain, whether you were ready for them or not.

You pushed your chair back with more force than necessary, the scrape of it against the floor loud in the otherwise quiet bar. The conversation still echoed in your ears, but your focus had been on the man, Simon, for the past half hour. His silence had become suffocating, every glance he cast in your direction feeling like it held some hidden meaning. You couldn't quite place it, but something was off about him. His eyes, cold and intense, had followed you too much, made you second guess every word you’d said.

"Im... gonna go powder my nose," you muttered, more to fill the silence than anything else. You didn’t wait for a response, the words barely out of your mouth before you were already making your way across the room, past the low hum of idle chatter and the clink of glasses.

While you were in the bathroom, the entire team turned their attention towards Ghost, each of them sizing him up, starting with Soap.

"What is wrong with you?" Soap asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and amusement.

"What?" Simon blinked, genuinely confused.

"Mate, you've been gawking at her all night," Gaz added, raising an eyebrow, his voice teasing but laced with concern.

"Shit. Are you serious?" Simon muttered, running a hand through his hair, but his gaze didn't stray far from where you had just disappeared.

Roach, leaning back casually with his drink in hand, nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, it's like you’ve been stuck in a staring contest with her since she walked in."

Price, who had been watching quietly, shook his head with a resigned sigh. He snuffed out his cigar in the nearby ashtray, eyes narrowing as he met Simon's gaze. "If you scared her off, I doubt you’ll get another chance, lad."

Simon’s jaw clenched. He hadn’t realized how obvious it had been, but now that the team was calling him out on it, he felt the heat rise in his chest. He hadn’t meant to make you uncomfortable, but the pull to look at you, to remember what had sparked your connection all those years ago had been almost magnetic.

“Alright, alright,” Soap teased, leaning in, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Just don't burn a hole in her head.”

“Shut up,” Simon muttered, his mind racing, trying to figure out how to fix this without making things worse.

Price shared a look with the rest of the team, a silent understanding passing between them. While Soap might have been the one to set this whole thing in motion, it didn't mean the others didn't have contingencies in place.

Soap got up first, stretching a bit. “Gonna make sure no one's tried to get in my car,” he said with a casual tone.

“I’ll come with you,” Gaz chimed in, already pushing himself up from his seat and following Soap toward the door.

A minute later, Roach also stood, excusing himself without a word, and then Price followed suit, his movements deliberate. “I’m gonna make sure they’re not up to anything,” he said with a knowing glance.

With everyone out of the immediate area, the bar suddenly felt quieter, and the tension in the air seemed to thicken. It took Ghost only a second for it all to click—he had been set up. Without thinking, he bolted from his seat, rushing outside just in time to catch the taillights of Soap's car disappearing down the street.

He cursed under his breath, but before he could make another move, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out, he glanced at the screen. There, in simple words from Price:

“Good luck.”

Ghost stood still for a moment, phone in hand, as the weight of the situation hit him. His heart thudded in his chest. This was it. There was no turning back now.

By the time you returned to the table, you felt a bit more at ease. The night out wasn’t all that bad… it was just that Johnny had some weird taste in friends. Well, mostly the tall one. You couldn’t help but notice how everyone seemed to have left, a pit forming in your stomach at the thought of being ditched.

You let out a quiet sigh, about to gather your things and head out when your phone lit up in your purse. Pulling it out, you saw a text from Johnny.

"Emergency, looks like one of the beers wasn't that good, poor Kyle threw up."

You paused, reading the message again, a small smile tugging at your lips. Aww… nevermind. At least they hadn’t forgotten about you after all.

"Hope he's okay." You replied quickly, grabbing the straps of your bag when suddenly a hand landed on top of yours.

You looked up, meeting the intense gaze of Simon. Seriously? You couldn’t help but think. They took everyone but this guy?

You forced a smile, trying to pull your hand away, but Simon’s grip was firm, not unkind. “Look, I had a decent time, but I have to go—”

“Just a minute,” he interrupted, his voice low, steady, almost pleading. There was something about the way he said it that made you pause, something different than the usual small talk.

"Fine." The word slipped out before you could process it, and you cursed yourself inwardly. Really? You just agreed to stay with the guy who hadn’t stopped staring since you met him. You sat back down, and he mirrored you, settling across the table.

Silence stretched between you, his intense gaze unwavering. He didn’t so much as blink, and you couldn’t help but feel more unsettled by the second.

What the hell is his deal?

“Look, if you're just going to be a creep, I don't think I want to mee—"

“Do you remember Armed Forces Day?” His voice cut through your words, quiet but resolute.

Okay, this took all day, I wanted to give you all something long to read incase I disappear for finals (which I might)

Reblogs appreciated!!!

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cutiecusp · 5 days ago

Text

Three's a crowd.

My first Ghoap drabble! Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x reader.

tw. talks of fantasy, sharing, threesome. HEA. MDNI!

"You want me to do what?" You exclaim, your voice high enough to startle the person in front of you. Standing in the queue for your morning coffee on the phone to your husband, Simon.

"Its just a fantasy i had, love. It's not important." You hear him reply, his deep voice smooth down the line.

"No- No i mean I'm open to it, but dropping it on me while I'm in the queue, Simon?" You ask, eyes flicking up to the board, as if you didn't already know what you wanted.

"I've just been thinking about it, and i know we talked about expanding things in the bedroom, didn't we?"

Your gaze landed on the cake pops as you nod, forgetting he cant see you.

"You there, love?" He chuckles, his voice light, as if he hadn't just dropped a bombshell on you in public.

"I'm here, just processing." You reply, your face pink at the thought of the suggestion.

Drink and cake pop in hand, you find a quiet corner of the café.

"Is it a one time thing, or do you want more?" You ask softly, your thoughts running wild.

"Up to you, whatever is comfortable for you." Simon replies.

"And you want him to watch, or-?" Your face aflame, you hope no one is close enough to hear your conversation, your gaze flittering around the room.

Seemingly safe, you take a sip from your drink, cherishing the insane amount of sugar and cream in it.

"I want a night with you both, i see the way you look at him too, dove."

You almost choke on your drink, although you were happily married to Simon, and had been for years, there was something charming about the cheeky Scot who ate all your cookies and pressed a friendly kiss into your hair in thanks.

"Si- i don't-" You stutter, your voice cracking.

"Don't need to hide it, i understand." He says softly, his voice almost wistful.

"What if he says no, I'd be so embarrassed." You admit, gripping your phone a little tighter to your ear.

"Who do you think suggested it, love?" He replies.

You feel your pulse race in your throat as you clear it, your mouth unable to form words.

Johnny wanted this too?

"Uh, yeah, okay babe. If its what you want?" Your throat dry, you take another sip from your cup.

"Can't think of a better way to spend the night with my two favourite people." Simon chuckles down the phone.

A cough from behind you interrupts your phone call, turning round, you look into a familiar set of eyes.

"Why are you blushing so hard, Bon?" a deep, Scottish brogue asks.

"Ah, he's there." You hear your husband say through the phone.

"Meet you both at home." He says before hanging up.

Your eyes connect with Johnny's, and you were shocked to see the dark lust behind his eyes.

Holding out a hand, he looks down at you, taking in your flushed face, and the way your thighs are squeezed tightly together, a flicker of a satisfied grin on his face as his eyes travel from your face to your shoes and back again.

"Ready to go home?" he smiles again, the innocence of the question perfect for public, with the promise of more underneath.

You are unable to speak, so give a shaky nod before placing your hand in his, unable to ignore the electricity between you.

He urges you forward, collecting your cup and bag, before settling his hand on your lower back, the heat of his hand branding you forever.

He leans past you to get the door, his body brushing past you as you blush harder.

"Can't wait to see where else you blush, Bonnie." He whispers into the shell of your ear.

"I have a feeling you are going to be a very good girl for us."

.....................................................................

@kaeyasfuturewife @xoxunhinged @muneca-lemon-steppa @gardenof-venus @misshugs @soraya-daydreams @frudoo @renpodz @yesornowaitidontknow @thevoiceinyourheadx @shadowdark00 @rynbeerose @lunamoonbby @incredible-walker @identity2212 @pukbadger @urbimom @corvid007 @wordsfromshona @shadows-empress @m00xy @canyonmooncreations @oniraki @evie-119 @havoc973 @kylies-lover-blog @ishipdabands @cmbghost @heckinspooks @midwesternwitchery @eggy-yoke @redzluvvesage @masterclassofescapism @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @skeletonsucker

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bi-writes · 9 months ago

Note

If you have time I am kindly asking for Simon and the teams POV on the arranged marriage fic!! Like why they put that ad out! I also think they’re silly for doing the whole ceremony in their gear 👉👈

the arrangement prequel

it wasn't much of a choice. ghost knew this was coming, knew this might happen--disciplinary action from the increasingly...unorthodox ways he was coming back from an op.

one too many times, a capture or kill became looking for the pieces of their target scattered across the field. an accident on the way back to interrogation--he doesn't know how his blade ended up embedded in their mark's throat. he misfired his gun--it's too bad it went straight through that prisoner's forehead.

disobeying without saying no. taking matters into his own hands without exactly defying the rules. ghost had been walking along the boundary line for a long while, and he knew eventually someone would realize the risks he was taking.

it was kate's idea. ghost needed something to chew on, something to satiate the hunger in his bones. a companionship, is what she tells price, but even he knew that was a stretch. anything given to ghost would surely be shredded apart on impact. anything that belongs to him ends up tucked underneath layers of shadows, not to be seen again.

but ghost is the best at what he does. all kate needs is for him to fucking listen once in a while.

when they ride back in the humvee, ghost is fiddling with the chamber of his pistol when price speaks up.

"got somethin' new," he says, looking into the rearview mirror. the sergeants shuffle a little closer to hear him. "new program between CIA and SAS. pilot program, not...exactly routine. but they'd like one of you lot to be the first to participate."

"what is it?"

price clears his throat, "the legality is a grey area. but both parties need to be willing."

"spit it out, cap'n."

"an arrangement of sorts," he says finally. "it's...not a secret 's hard to keep a bird with the things we do...always away, hard to reach. but you're the best at what you do, and i think if you take it seriously, it could be good for one of ya."

soap snorts. "cap'n, ye wanna play matchmaker with us? see if we're worthy of little bonnie spies?"

price snorts, rolling his eyes, "i need you to set an example, is what i need. i need one of you to step forward."

ghost looks up when he says that. his eyes flicker, and he looks at his captain, who keeps his eyes on the road as he drives. he hears what price doesn't say. this is your punishment, he imagines. and you will take it and not say a word, like the lieutenant that you are.

in the dark of his room later that evening, he opens the file with your name typed across the front. CONFIDENTIAL it reads, and he flips the manila folder to spread your profile out onto the desk.

you're smiling in the first photo. it's a headshot, from high school maybe, from college, a pretty photo of you beaming at a camera with a nice background. he eyes your height, weight, measurements, the skills they've identified and the answers to your questions about why you want to participate in the program.

Q: What kind of partner are you looking for? A: Resistant. Unmovable. Loyal.

Q: Why do you want to participate in this program? A: I'm tired of being disappointed.

Q: What are some of the qualities you possess you would like your partner to know about you? A: I'm not afraid of what I don't know.

short answers, straight to the point. affirmative and honest, with no room for interpretation. ghost doesn't need interpretation; he knows what it is you're saying.

when he looks back at your picture, he brings it closer, narrowing his eyes as he studies you. the smile you wear, while beautiful, isn't real. it's a persona, a ruse, a costume that you wear to put the outside world at ease. you understand that a smile makes you agreeable, but he knows, somehow he knows, that there must be a tick that you feel that no one is able to quiet, an anger and a lilt to the soft voice you must speak in that carries the weight of your defiance and your disappointment with everything the world is that you thought it wouldn't be.

ghost isn't told that the program is a lie. you aren't an operative for the CIA, you aren't some kind of spy in need of company. when he reads the rest of your file, he is amused because he knows the rest is made-up bullshit that doesn't apply to you. you are as civilian as they come, but with how well you lie, he wonders if you should be recruited just for that.

with just a little training, he thinks perhaps you might be everything your country needs and more. a little blood wouldn't scare you.

it's weeks later when ghost eyes the date on his calendar. he has marked it with an X, black marker haphazardly traced there to indicate the day. he told price he doesn't want bells and whistles--no music, no men, no party. an unmarked room and his bride is all that is necessary.

he steps outside to smoke a cigarette. he sucks on it gently, blowing it out to the side, and he eyes the car that pulls onto base carefully. when price steps out of the drivers' seat, ghost stubs out the cigarette and turns the corner. he catches a glimpse of a lace veil before he disappears.

and when he steps into the room hours later, your back to him, he can't help the way his pupils dilate and the way his body goes rigid with rage. there you are, standing there, in white silk and lace, your back to him but the picture of elegance and the presence of something honestly deserving.

it is only when he lifts the veil off of your face and sees those eyes that he understands what you are, what you wear.

a façade, a beautiful mask of your own, to cover up the ugly you hold on the inside.

he smiles under the mask when you kiss him over the fabric. because fuck, yes...he doesn't care where you have come from. he doesn't care that they lied about who you are, that they didn't tell him the truth, that in all honesty, they have given you to die and you don't know it--he doesn't care because it worked, at least for him. the finest flesh he has ever set his eyes on. he cannot wait to brand you for what you are worth.

if they meant to punish him for the crimes he has committed, he is sorry. because you are his reward, and there is no hell to pay.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #dark!simon #simon thoughts

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charliemwrites · 1 year ago

Text

Part 5 of Obsessive!johnny

(CW: extremely dubious consent; I’d go so far as to say straight non-con. No violence. Please be safe, beans! 💕)

It’s your own fault - or no. That’s a dangerous way of thinking it not your fault. But you got complacent. Got desensitized to that looming sense of danger, the threat hiding in the shadow of his eyes. That little voice in the back of your head became background noise, not the guide it used to be.

All it took was a slip of your carefully crafted mask understanding Johnny’s “love” for you. Just one careless comment, a tone too honest.

You don’t even remember what you said now. Just that the feverish light in his eyes changed instantly. Like a shift in sunlight through colored glass. What frightened you was how his expression changed, shut down hard. His jaw tensing, brows going deceptively smooth.

“Is all this not enough for you?” he asks, taking big, measured steps towards you.

You start backing up, heart tripping over itself. “That’s not-“

“How many ways do you need me to prove it, hm?” he asks. “I’ve apologized a hundred times, bonnie, haven’t I? Is that not enough for you? I’m still not worth it to you?”

You put your hands up, all your carefully crafted and scripted responses fleeing in the face of this new, unfamiliar Johnny. He’s - he’s angry at you. Not because of you, or for you, but at you.

“I’ve been patient, haven’t I?” he continues, low voice wavering with something frightening. “Do you know how hard it is, seeing you cry for a life that wasn’t good enough for you? Do you have any idea how hard I’ve been trying?”

You swallow thickly, try to rally your scrambled thoughts. He just working himself up more and more and that voice that fell so quiet is screaming now. So loud it’s hard to make your mouth work.

“I-I know. I’m sorry,” you manage. “Im just… I lost my temper and said something I didn’t mean…”

His eyes narrow. “Oh, no, hen. I think you meant it.”

He up close to you now, barely a centimeter of space between your bodies. The heat of him is suffocating. You’ve never been so aware of how much bigger than you he is. It thrilled you when he’d loom over you at the bar, cocky confidence and easy smiles.

You meet his eyes.

And for a moment, he softens. You have the briefest golden flicker of hope.

And then he sighs. Deep and resigned. Your stomach flips.

“It’s my fault,” he mutters finally, shaking his head. “Haven’t been treating you right, have I?”

You don’t dare answer.

“Treating you like you’re one thing when you’re really everything.”

You open your mouth, try to speak, to reason with him. He just shushes you with a hand on your cheek, thumb pressing your lips closed.

“Always spoiling you like the princess you are, when sometimes you need to be treated like a slut.”

He jerk’s you around and shoves you onto the bed, plants a big hand between your shoulder blades and presses.

“Soap!”

“Hush up, baby, it’s alright. You don’t have to pretend to be all prim and proper,” he soothes, knocking your feet apart. “I don’t think any less of you for needing cock. Only natural.”

Your underwear rips like wet paper, accompanied by your high-pitched squeal of alarm. He makes a low, rough noise. Pure, animal lust. The fabric of his pants chafes against the backs of your thighs.

“Oh, there she is,” he purrs, “just like I thought.”

You cry out as rough fingers drag through your slit, gathering the slick you can’t believe is leaking from you.

“I’ve been so bad to you, bonnie, not treating you the way you need. No wonder you got all fussy and snappy.” The hazy thought that he might not he talking to you at all anymore burns through you. When you shift, trying to close your legs self-consciously, a sharp slap to your clit collapses your knees.

“We’re gonna set you right, babygirl,” he growls. “Won’t be able to worry your pretty little head anymore.”

He plunges two fingers into you without preamble. The stretch is vicious, but it doesn’t hurt. Not really. You’re too wet. Still, you scream - because Johnny’s spent so many hours playing with you, learning you, that he knows exactly where to press and curl and rub his fingers.

“Wait, wait,” you gasp, tears already collecting in your eyes because he’s being mean about it, twisting to grind his thumb against your clit. It’s too much, you’re not ready no matter what your body says. “Soap, don’t- ngh!”

“Gonna show you why you’re better off here. Right here. Gonna give this pretty cunt what it needs.”

The third finger is a stretch. You try to get away, try to crawl onto the bed to run, but he stomps a boot onto the chain around your ankle and flattens you to the mattress.

“Keep pretending if you want, baby,” he murmurs, “I know what you really need now.”

He’s withdrawing his fingers while you’re still pleading and babbling. You’re horrified to realize you don’t know if you want them back. It doesn’t matter though. Because Johnny’s cock is splitting you open before you can decide, thicker and longer than you’ve ever taken. He curses and groans as he pushes into you, inch by hot inch. Until you feel the fat leaking head tap at your cervix and he grinds, balls kissing your clit.

“T-too much!” you sob. “‘S too much!! Johnny, Johnny, please!”

Heat floods you as he shudders, hips jerking hard and rough. By your head, his fist is white-knuckled in the sheets.

“Did… did you just…?”

“Say my name again,” he snarls.

You blink wetly. “W-wha…?”

“Say. It. Again.” Each word punctuated by a brutal thrust. Something drips down your thigh.

“J-Johnny,” you keen, trying to beg for mercy.

“Jus’ like that.” He’s still hard. Still so fucking hard it’s like you’ve been edging him for hours. Like he didn’t just flood your poor pussy with cum.

“Been dreaming of you saying my name. Haven’t all this time,” he pants, rocking into you hard and fast. Any semblance of restraint is long gone. “Now I know why. Finally fuckin’ earned it. Gonna keep earnin’ it from now on.”

He fucks you so hard the bed leaves dents in the wall. Forces a hand beneath your pelvis to pinch your clit between two fingers and hurtles you shrieking into an orgasm. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t pause for a single beat. Just hitches your knee up onto the mattress and somehow fucks into your harder, faster, deeper. His fingers rub cruel circles into your oversensitive clit and you burn.

“No, no, wait, Johnny- ah! No, I’m gonna - it feels like-”

Wet heat gushes from you, spilling down your thighs, all over the bed and floor. You - you -

“Fuck, you squirted everywhere, good fuckin’ girl, princess.” He slows just a bit, presumably to appreciate the mess you’ve made. You’re too far gone on shock and awful pleasure to do more than sniffle and hiccup pathetically.

And then a death sentence.

“Do it again.”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #obsessive johnny

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halfmoonshines · 10 months ago

Text

soft spot

damon salvatore x reader

summary; you're injured in a fight with a rogue vampire who breezed into town, and Damon is being weird about it

hurt/comfort

----

You tried to stay hidden in the shadows outside of the streetlight, but your rapid heartbeat probably would've given you away either way.

"Who the hell is this guy?" You heard Damon mutter from the spot he was tossed just a few feet away from you, dusting the dirt from the trash cans he'd squished like cardboard. His ice blue eyes spared you a quick glance but didn't say a word, trying not to draw any attention your way.

Damon intervened as Caroline was struggling to grapple with the stranger. In the span of a moment, she was on the ground groaning with a broken arm and he had launched the assailant to give them a chance to regroup - right toward you.

You couldn't help the little gasp that you emitted, no matter how much time you spent around these creatures this was a vampire. One in particular who would have no hang ups about snapping your neck.

Per their supernatural hearing, it didn't take long for the mans vicious senses to find you, and took half as long for him to have a bruising hand around your neck.

The sound of Damon yelling your name was distant in the background, you were focused on the threat literally snarling in your face.

"Don't you smell good?"

That was as far as the stranger managed to get before Damon had the broken handle of a broom protruding from his back. His grip slipped off your throat as his body slid sideways and you toppled to the ground, heading bouncing off the pavement hard enough for you to see stars.

Damon's voice was faint to you again, but you could hear him begging for your attention. Caroline was in the background too, in panicked discussion with someone over the phone. You couldn't get your eyes to focus though, hair becoming wet and warm.

The eldest Salvatore's touch on you was feather light, his mouth still moving with words he wanted you to latch onto but you had already lost the dance with consciousness.

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The first thing you were aware of when you woke up in a bed was that it was decidedly not yours. The next thing you noticed was that you weren't in any pain, just a bit stiff when you went to sit up from the bed. Someone had definitely given you blood, which was against every rule her and her friends had discussed, but from the smell of the sheets behind you - Damon wouldn't have cared either way.

You made your way out of the room and down the stairs, vaguely knowing the layout of the boarding house from your handful of times actually coming inside. Over the last few months you had become dangerously intertwined in Elena's grapple with the supernatural, despite Bonnie's vehement advice to go as far as possible. You were emancipated, you could switch schools and move to Pennsylvania.

No, you couldn't. Once your conscious had been opened to everything around you, once you were aware of the dangers of the dark - you could never ignore that. Better the evil you know.

Speaking of.

You came upon Damon in his favorite spot, a tumbler of bourbon in his hand while he leaned up against the fireplace. The suit jacket he had been wearing earlier that night was discarded on the couch behind him, a small amount of blood on the collar of his shirt still.

"You always look so broody." Poking fun at him might not be in your best interest, but you figured you'd give it a go. Over the last few months, your and Damon's relationship had morphed into something you couldn't quite understand, but moments like these had seemed to become more comfortable between you.

"I believe you're confusing me with my much broodier younger brother." Damon's words were laced with sarcasm, but his tone didn't have a hint of amusement.

You felt suddenly awkward, in his space and home. Just because you had gotten kind of comfortable lately didn't mean he wanted to be around you.

"Well, thanks for the whole life saving thing." You began to babble nervously, a faint pink glow to your cheeks. "I'll get out of your hair. Sorry for taking your bed, I don't even know what time it is-" You had begun turning toward the door, making to just leave and find a way home. How you could this age and still flustered in front of attractive men, especially murderous ones was beyond you.

Damon appearing in front of you almost made your heart stop, hair stirring at his incredibly fast movements. He was barely a foot away, his piercing gaze holding your confused one. From this close you could smell just how much he had probably drank.

"Are you... okay, Damon?" Your voice wavered a bit under the heat of his stare and you saw the muscle in his jaw working overtime while he looked like he was debating whether or not he wanted to actually say anything to you.

"You don't have to thank me for saving you when you were in danger because of me." His eyes had drifted from your eyes to your neck, voice whisper quiet.

Vulnerability was the last thing you expected from the man standing over you. "What do you mean? It wasn't your fault. Just wrong place, wrong time and I so happen to be the weakest link." You hoped your voice conveyed even a bit of humor.

His eyes snapped back up to yours, head tilting slightly while he assessed you. Damon's hand rose to grab a lock of your hair, twirling it around his finger in thought. Your breath caught in your throat, feeling like you were on the precipice of something.

"My weakest link, maybe. Have I told you how much I like your hair?" His voice was still quiet, an innocent lilt.

Your mind was reeling, half drunk on his closeness and hazed by confusion. Where was this coming from? Had he drank a small liquor store and now he was confusing her for her much more appealing best friend?

"Damon, I'm not sure how much you've had to drink, but I'm happy to brew you a pot of coffee. Does that even work for vampires?"

You had started to pull away, making to turn toward the kitchen but Damon was infinitely faster than you. His drink was discarded, one hand going to your upper arm and the other to your waist, tugging you back into his vicinity.

"On the contrary, I don't think I've ever been so sure minded, sparrow. I'm sorry for not protecting you tonight." His voice was tight now, the warmth of his hands tingling down your body.

"It's not your fault, or job, Damon." Your voice had quieted to match his, all humor leaving. You didn't know where this guilt had come from, but it was misplaced. Since you'd met Damon he'd made some bad decisions, but you had also seen his sacrifice so much for the sake of the team. Even if others didn't acknowledge it, he didn't need to add anymore to his plate.

"I'd like it to be. My job." His reply was lightning quick, eyes pinning yours in place.

Were you dreaming?

Damon's signature smirk was visible for a split second, telling you that your confusion was written all over your face. "I think that I'm asking you, in the most coming of age movie way, if you'd like to go steady?"

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send any fic requests here!! all comments/criticisms/requests welcome

#damon salvatore #tvd #vampire diaries #tvd fic #self insert #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore fic #my work #my works

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spurbleu · 4 days ago

Text

unraveling careful threads

nurse!reader x johnny mactavish (sfw oneshot)

s. johnny finds you where he needs you. wc. 2k for @kentwos, <3

you don’t know what it is about your door, but it seems to beckon chaos.

it has no business being there. on the days you return with sore heels and needle indents on your pointer and thumb, it should not follow you. the military is its ball and chain- two trenches deep behind security fences. it should remain there- you’ve told the damn thing to sit and lie and yet it stalks you to a place of respite.

stray cats pitch on fat paws by your front steps. doorbell ditches- neighborhood boys who strangle their youth. rain.

tonight, its dressed in a bleeding temple and wine cheeks. bruises beneath the porch light and leans against the wood of your door frame. lubberly smile.

“come here often?”

although your concern is sluggish, it waxes the underside of your ribs when he lumbers past you into your living room. you lock the door before following him.

“johnny? what on earth h-“

“jus’ a scuffle. some bam off his rocker- one tae maneh bevvy’s,” he limps across your carpet with a right lean- sobering up slowly as he rummages through your cabinets, “where d’ye keep yer aid?”

whatever brought him to your door had beaten off the drunken stupor. you can’t classify what replaces it, but the shadow of it follows him. wimpish, reeking of pub grease, caramelized liquor, a drying anger.

the lights of your flat soften it.

in fact, it softens him.

unfamiliarity sheets the corners of your vision. him, unmitigated substance- raw sinews that thread thick strands beneath tanned skin are left exposed to the mundane. violence in a butter dish. grisly silt on a vacuumed carpet. a sergeant in cotton.

you’ve seen him only in the context of harsh lines. charcoal draws his boots on concrete, nothing picks the gravel from his teeth, and horizon grays let him taunt grim reapers and their assault rifles. where the world is his adversary and he takes it by the throat. even in the confines of your office, the walls feel as though they’d been sanded on whetstone when he receives a third set of stitches.

delicate looked unnatural on him. johnny was rock. impenetrable, inevitable. a dulled stone, rounded and heavy, bludgeons docile until it’s drying in saline and the vim that grows haphazardly on his knuckles. he did not belong where things were soft, and certainly didn’t fit in your kitchen.

he sends you a look over his shoulder. “ah ken ‘m good lookin, but i could realleh use a bandage.”

you swallow. “what?”

realization funnels through your exhaustion. you’re on leave. so is he. neither of them, given the circumstances and distance, should converge. regardless, he stands beaten to a variant of death, offering you a wilting smile and a flirt.

your eyes narrow. “johnny, why are you here.”

“cannae wounded soldier nae get help from his favorite nurse?”

a cautious step forward. “on base. but this is my house. how-“

“christ bonnie, jus quit it with the interview ‘n give me yer aid,” he rubs his temple and leans against the fridge, “that fuckin bastard.”

the disquiet comes back in a wave.

you’re vaguely acquainted with the state. the lull of anticipation as you sit in the after brood of consequence, sore operative on a stretcher. a mothering silence, rocks you both into placidity. its where you become removed from the outcome of the stitches, the draw of their brow, the blood that gets on your shirt. fades to somewhere beyond the both of you, mental death among other reliefs. lets you work.

but its never there when you look at johnny. never has been.

you’re left so agonizingly present around him. you blamed his sound for years- the resonate baritone in foreign gaelic that forges its way into spaces that cannot fit it (medic rooms, your ears…wayward sentimental thoughts) and how after he’s stopped speaking, it lingers on the back of your neck for hours.

but the longer you’ve known him, you realize it isn’t how loud he is, or the territory of his torso- not even his eyes. it’s the untitled charm that soothes a callous under your skin. you don’t know how to name it, so you let it guide your body to the corner base cabinet, searching for your aid.

because he needs it. and you have never been above giving johnny want he needs.

“go sit down.” there’s a disjointed noise from behind you as you pull the box to the counter.

“’m perfectly capable of-“

“johnny- go sit.”

you feel him staring at your back, but when the kitchen goes quiet, you know he’s done as told. you put the kettle on the back stove and set the heat to low, before walking around the banister back to the living room, where he waits with a pouting lip and a wide sit.

what a charmer.

you set the aid on the coffee table and assess the damage. shallow gash on the right side of his temple, bruising cheekbone that swells his left eye, split lip and a smudge of blood under his nostrils.

you pause where you stand, realizing in order to be productive you’ll have to be up close. you don’t have another chair that won’t risk an unsteady hand. johnny follows your thinking rather quickly for being roughed up and half sober. “my lap donae look comfeh enough for ye, bonnie?”

this little-

out of spite, you plop ungracefully on his right thigh. you hoped- expected- a fragment of surprise. instead, he gives you a loose grin, before gently resting his hands on your hips. the breeze of his fingertips makes you flinch.

“wha-“

“jus’ tryna keep ye steady,” he close one eye, the other full of mirth, “ready for my check up, doc.”

you scoff before pulling out your cotton swabs.

the routine begins. cleaning infections, pinching the skin to prepare it for stitches, breathing slowing. all while trying to ignore the sensation of your hands ghosting over his face, and how when you pull them back, they’re burning, sweating between each gap. all this fuss over how his thumbs mindlessly fiddle with the hem of your sleep shirt.

your fingers are the spiders that web him back together. the lifelines of your palm could never reach him, but you find that he’s already been there. burrows in the vulnerable fissures of your body, your mind, until you’re unravelling while he’s sewn together.

and yet, you’re anchored. calmed. his discord serves as relief from a world that is inherently boring. you’d feel compelled to thank him if you think he’d understand.

“yer makin tha’ face again.”

you pause the needle before it hits his skin. “what face?”

“yer lip puffs out and yer brows do tis’ ting where d’ey meet n ta’ middle of yer-“ he smiles to himself and loses your eyes, “ye make it when ye need tae focus.”

you squint. “does it bother you?”

he laughs. a deep sound, resonates with the child in you that remembers waves against mercury bluffs, or watching thunder from your bedroom window. awe. having heard them before, and yet they sound foreign every time.

“nae,” he shakes his head softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a classic grin. if you had been standing, your knees would weaken at the gnaw of their blue when he looks at you again, “nae quite ta’ opposite. might be the most beautiful thing i’ve eva’ seen.”

the ceiling fan whirrs above you in a rhythm that matches your heartbeat, the carpet feels decade rough on your socks, and the clock in the corner is quieter than it’s ever been. and it’s all because a man who takes up leagues of space just by smiling called you beautiful.

you’d never say that aloud though. you’d be feeding the thing that makes him that way.

“you’re hopeless.” is all that you muster.

he smiles, but its without gravity. it’s almost sad. “aye, maybe for ye.”

you lose yourself in the moments you find him like this. pliant, willing, gentle. (is that how cain killed abel? virgin hands wield a rock on innocence? softness weaponizing itself? you’re unsure, but when he meets your eyes for a third time, you’re convinced he’s waiting to kill you with the tender that holds you still on his thigh.)

“this is going to hurt.”

he recoils when you push the needle through the edge of his temple, but relaxes with a labored exhale. suddenly its quiet like it hadn’t been before. a breed of silence where you realize how close you are, how you swallow his breath, and feel the blimp of his pulse on your hip bone.

it doesn’t take long for you to finish closing the tear. when he feels you pull away, he tips his head up to look at you.

“looks like i came tae the righ’ d-“

“why are you out at this hour?”

your interruption is involuntary if anything else, but now that you look at him- half blue and half bloody- the concern you usually remove from patients rears an ugly head and hits the roof of your mouth.

he falters. “wha’d’ye mean?”

you drag your knuckles across his cheek bone and the flesh swelters. plums where other men became sideways and angry- and it’s the cotton in you that can’t help but swipe a thumb over it. he cringes, but you persist until the pad of your thumb cools where it burns. when you find his eyes, you lose something in your lungs.

“I…I know you’re on leave, and your life is your own but…” you pretend to idle your hands over his jaw- looking for any contusions, or perhaps a lifeline that could stabilize you as you rest on his lap, “getting into fights at pubs isn’t exactly the point of a vacation.”

he sighs before looking at your palm, “I…” his voice below a whisper, his stubble barely itching your fingers tells you he’s trying not to startle you, “I get… antsy. gets me inta’ trouble,” he offers you a clumsy smile, “donae think I’m capable of sittin’ still for very long.”

you steal a look at his lips. they’re not bleeding anymore. you blink. “you’re doing it now.”

he gives you a look like you’re torturing him and your mouth dries. “I’ve got ye on my lap. ay’d be a very, very foolish man, to move now.”

johnny has a way of saying things so simply that you think it’s better if you say nothing at all.

instead you take antiseptic and wipe his stitches clean. the only remnants that remain of night- the swell of his eye, the healing cut on his temple- are now replaced with remnants of you. needle and thread, careful breath, your skin on his.

you didn’t know nursing could ever feel so intimate.

“i’m…you’re all..” you swallow the blue in his eyes like their air, “done.”

he nods, but doesn’t move. in fact, neither of you do.

the lamp light tames the sting of his iris. they can’t startle a paralysis under downy soft yellow. instead, hot blue steel melts you. diminishes your flesh and bone to the second skin he has a tendency to stare at it until it’s been torn apart and pieced together. the countless times you’ve done it for him under a needle and thread do not compare to what he does with his eyes.

it’s an oddity you’ve grown much to fond of for something that is so inherently finite.

“i…meant what i said,” this will not last, “about you being beautiful.”

it will pass, god let it pass. “Johnny…”

the teapot whistles from the kitchen brings you back to your senses. you cough the penciled fear into your fist and try for a smile. both of you know its not honest.

“sit tight.”

the tea is still warm in your belly as you watch him shuck his coat on his shoulders from your position on the wall. you both remain comfortably mute, in this odd routine that doesn’t feel new at all. despite every experience tonight proving something different, as he stands at your door you’re prompted with an overwhelming rush of deja’vu.

“you sure you’re alright to drive home?” you stifle a yawn. “I know you’ve slept on more uncomfortable surfaces than my couch.”

he laughs, albeit its muddled by his own exhaustion. “very temptin’ bonnie. but i cannae stay- gotta get back to my own.” something other than his own bed is tugging him out the door, but you let a sleeping dog lay (or, an injured sergeant lie).

he opens your door and turns to face you before walking out. you can’t tell if the shiver is from the cold rush of air that hits your bare elbows, or the preserving look he throws your way. “thank ye, bonnie. yer a life saver.”

you smile. “i would say come again, but i feel like that’s redundant.”

he nods. his eyes flit to the space behind you and then back to your face. he pulls his hand from his pocket and tucks a stray behind your ear, and you swear it’s the first time you’ve seen the sergeant properly blush.

“sweet dreams, mm bonnie?”

“yeah. get home safe,” your smile broads, “not keen on staying awake too much longer to fish you out of trouble again.”

he nods, stepping out the threshold of your door. you feel like you’ve lost things tonight but gained something infinitely more important. “goodnight, Johnny.”

“g’night.”

you don’t realize that its yearning until his footfall recedes back into a world that is boundless and without your hands to keep him threaded together.

at least then, he’ll return to you.

#johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x you #soap x reader #cod #call of duty #soap cod #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #soap x you

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vixen7243 · 8 months ago

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Undivided Attention: Team bonding

TF141 X AFAB!Reader

Masterlist | Soap | Snake in the Garden | Team bonding | Like a Dream

MDNI!!!

Tag list 🖤: @jenniferpendragon @amyg1509

Hearing John's rough panicked voice sent a shiver down your spine as you squeezed your knees closer to your chest holding your breath. "Y/N? Dear, please, open the door. What's going on?"

"What do you care?" You croaked out sniffling, the silence deafening making you laugh, "Never cared before."

"Gorgeous, let u-"

"No, no, no. How many times do I have to say ..." Pushing yourself up, "no, " Turning and unlocking the door, "and to just go away?" Swinging the door open you glared at all of them.

They had all stiffened at the sight of you, your eyes were blood shot, cheeks flushed, dark bags under your eyes, you looked miserable and angry. "Luv."

"Go to Angie, tell her all your problems." The look of compete shock made you laugh pushing John's chest making him step back a little, "Didn't think I knew? She can't help but to walk around base talking about how all of you are pent up dogs eye fucking her and begging her to stay with you all." You hated even more that they were just standing there quietly, fear and worry in their eyes.

"Bonnie-"

"Don't, just..." Taking a deep breath as a few tears slid down your cheeks you groaned, "I may look stupid, we never said anything on being exclusive so you guys can do anything and one that you want. I know it's none of my business." The hurt in their eyes as you continued to speak make you choke up, heart clench but they hurt you first. You didn't want to hold back, "But seriously? John? As much as I've comforted you, held you and we've fucked I really thought you would be nice enough to tell me that you guys had some other medic on the missions." The visible flinch as if you had just slapped him across the face made you scowl, you waited a beat, still they said nothing. "Why didn't you tell me you replaced me?"

"I didn't-"

"Yes you did."

He scowled right back at you, you know he believes he didn't technically replace you, but to you, he really did. "I wasn't trying to dear, I jus..." You started crying, he froze, as he tried to step forward to wrap his arms around you but you stepped back shutting the door locking it again. Sobbing you fell to your knees, "Darling, I'm sorry ple-"

"She's touched all of you, I've seen it, none of you push her away, none of you do or say anything. She's clung to Johnny like a fucking desperate slag and you let her! Kyle is so fucking friendly with her you stand right in her shadow. You let her touch your beard, you let her..." Hiccupping you clenched your chest, "And Simon, you were actually gentle with her." You felt so sick, so tired, "I can't look at any of you, I may be overreacting but I thought that after everything you guys would actually care about me." Your sobs broke your speech up but they understood you loud and clear and they broke with you, as you laid before the door crying they all sat down in the hall breaking down with you.

It wasn't till late in the evening that you pushed yourself up and went to your bathroom sighing, taking a quick shower before slipping on a tank top and shorts, combing your hair you looked at your door. Taking small quiet steps you tried listening to the hall, hoping that they had gone to their rooms you opened your door and before you could close the door again Simon held the door open, "Luv, please let us talk to you."

Fighting to try and close it before groaning you pushed back, "What?"

You hated how they invaded your space and all you still wanted was to just lay down with them and have amnesia and live in ignorant bliss. God your heart practically stopped when Johnny got in your view, his eyes just as blood shot from crying, you've barely ever seen him cry before and the few times you have it kills you. "We've told her so many times to not touch us, that she is just there for papers that there's a medic." Kyle said, your eyes still on Johnny.

"We're not saying what you saw didn't happen, but please believe us when we say we reject her, every time." John said, you looked at all of them slowly, they looked just as miserable.

"Guys have only just glanced in my general direction and you guys loose your minds, have done things for even brushing past me. Yet there's a girl throwing herself at all of you and you don't do a thing to her but say some words that mean nothing to her." You say wrapping your hands around your waist.

"She'll get hers luv."

"Why, because now I'm upset and know?" You scoffed pouting.

As Kyle and Johnny slowly walked to you Simon's eyes caught sight of your papers on your desk and while you looked to the other two he read the papers. "Bonnie, ye are everything to us, we've set boundaries and granted we weren't as hard as when things happen to ye but that's only because even if she were to of done anything more compared to the guys getting close to ye..." He was before you and as much as you knew what he was saying that they could handle themselves against her and that she would certainly be at a bit of a risk if the men on base decided to go against her consent. It angered you and annoyed you but feeling the heat radiating from his body made your body tingle and hands itch to reach out and touch him.

"Gorgeous, we'd never let her get anywhere near us more than she was even able to. You're the only person we have ever let near, embraced or loved."

Snapping your head to look at Kyle your eyes widened, "What is this?" You looked at Simon and froze. "You're trying to transfer?"

Fuck, you felt lightheaded as they all looked at you, "I-"

"Darling." You looked at John, he walked up to you, cupping your cheeks he made you look into his eyes, your heart pounded in your ears as everything zoned in on him.

"I'm sorry." Not what you wanted to say but it was the first thing that came out, you felt like you all were mirroring each other in emotions and it was weighing so heavily on your heart how broken they were with you. "It was all too much for me, I couldn't st-stay. I didn't want to see you all with her li-like that." Grabbing his wrists you nuzzled your head into his hands sniffling. "I don't want to lose you guys but..." Looking up you sighed. "I'm tired."

Simon and Kyle flanked you, while Johnny pressed his chest to your back, hands grabbing onto you as John leaned down and kissed you. Breaking, you pushed into him and kissed him back, you felt everyone's lips on your neck and shoulders whispers of them declaring their love and how you own them in every way you ever could. Gasping against John's lips as Johnny ground into you whimpering of apologies and pleas to not leave him. Turning your head you kissed Kyle, hand reaching for John's shoulder holding him close. You'd never been with all of them at once, this was new and exciting as you were on the receiving end of their praise and love, their rough hands gently massaging and groping.

Turning to Simon you moved his baclava up enough to kiss him, his tongue invading your mouth making you moan as Kyle nipped at your neck. Trembling slightly you gasped as you fully turned for Johnny who wrapped his arms around you holding you tightly as he kissed you moaning with you. Feeling as everyone was easing your clothes off, you leaned back slightly for Simon to pull your tank top off and Kyle removed your shorts and underwear. John wrapped his arms around you from behind, as you rest your head on his shoulder you gasped arching when he bit your neck moaning as Johnny kneeled before you, lifting a leg onto his shoulder he kissed your thighs before littering hickies and bite marks along your thighs and close to your dripping cunny, moaning.

"Johnny, please." Whining you pushed your hips closer to him looking down gasping when he latched his lips onto your clit making you moan and grab onto Kyle's shoulder.

"Look so beautiful baby, no one can even come close." Kyle moaned cupping your breast moaning against your neck. Huffing you started grinding against Johnny's face reaching down with your other hand to grab his mohawk keening when he teased your hole with his fingers, his tongue flicking your clit. Already your leg was shaking under you as you turned to Simon to kiss him, your moans muffled against him as you pushed your back into John. Shaking you threw your head back against John's shoulder whimpering before a strained scream ripped from your already sore throat, hips moving quickly with Johnny's pumping fingers. Your leg slowly giving out as you panted trying to push Johnny's head from your thighs.

"Shit, Johnny, please. I came, stop fuck." Groaning you squealed surprised when Kyle grabbed your leg and Simon grabbed the other, working together they hoisted you up, John tightening his hold around your waist as Johnny groaned against your clit the vibration going straight to your spine. "Oh god." Pushing both hands into his hair you tried leaning to Kyle whimpering when you couldn't reach.

As Kyle leaned forward you both collided hungrily kissing, panting into his mouth as Simon leaned forward sucking on your nipple. Feeling the second orgasm flooding through you, you tensed in their hold whining against Kyle's lips pulling harshly onto Johnny's hair making him whimper and moan as he slurped your juices as it trickled down his hand and wrist. As Johnny leaned back he slowly pumped his fingers into you, easing you through your release smiling when Kyle pulled back and you instantly looked down at him, new tears staining your cheeks from ecstasy. Your body shivering as he eased his fingers from you gently rubbing your clit as he put both hands on your inner thighs spreading you planting a soft peck to your throbbing clit and leave open mouthed kisses along your thighs before he stood up slowly kissing you. Kyle and Simon Carefully lowered your legs while John went to your bed resting his back against the wall as he sat in the middle of it, Simon and Kyle joined him on either side while you and Johnny got lost in your own world.

Looking at the others you gasped pulling back tasting yourself now on your tongue from Johnny, crawling up between John's legs you straddle one of his legs while pulling Kyle back to yourself kissing him. Moaning as Simon grabbed your waist and moved you back and forth on John's thigh earning a groan from the both of you. Having already came twice from Johnny your cunt was dripping wet and you were sure John's pant leg was already soaked. Feeling a thick pair of fingers slide between you and John's leg you sighed as Kyle slipped his tongue into your mouth exploring every crevasse moaning when you also slipping your tongue around his practically tangling the two of you. Feeling the bed dip behind you, you sat up and looked down biting your lip as John's fingers slowly worked your overstimulated clit. Griping John's shoulders you whined, "Mark me." Gasping as Kyle also slipped his fingers down, your slick making their fingers easily pass each other and play with your clit. "Please, mark me, fuck me. I want to mark all of you. Want everyone to know- shit urgh." Your hips stuttered in Simon's grasp as both John and Kyle's fingers teased your tight hole. "Want everyone to know you're all mine. Please."

"How could we say no to that darling." John moaned as you locked your lips with his, the others finding any space on you, sucking, biting, kissing, squeezing hard sure to leave hand prints. Being swept under the waves you leaned back and went to Kyle removing yourself from John panting as you frantically started pawing at his shirt and pants removing what you could with his help. Latching yourself to his neck making him groan as you bit and sucked at him like a leach as you drew a little blood with a bite that was a little too hard but you were happy to see it already start to bruise a little. Pushing him to lay down you went down his body leaving a scattered trail hovering over his pelvic when you felt Simon grasp your hips pulling them up a little. His tongue dragged down your slit, moaning at the taste before suckling on your clit his grip on your ass spreading you for himself.

Pushing fully back against him you continued to work on leaving marks now on Kyle's thighs, his shaking just as much as yours, his cock twitching. Grabbing his shaft you slowly dragged your hand up and down watching as his stomach tightened, moaning looking down at you. Feeling a swift slap to your back side when you tried to pull to sit up happy with the littered marks on Kyle's body you gasped looking over your shoulder at Simon, "Not done ye' luvie."

"But Si." You whined pushing onto his fingers that were pumping into you. "I want Johnny." Groaning as his fingers slid out of you before he man handled you up and sat you in front of Johnny. Dazed you clawed at him, his grin and shiver of excitement pushing you to leave darker marks on his neck his groan vibrating his throat against your lips.

"Come on bonnie, don't leave an inch untouched. Mark me to yer hearts content. I'm all yers. Always have been, always will be." It didn't take you long to scratch and bite your way around his body, loving how he sounded when you would suck dark hickies into him. The whine he made when you withdrew from him made you smile as you leaned over him kissing him, his hands squeezing your already bruising hips.

"It's John's turn baby." You whispered into his ear nipping his ear lobe giggling when he groaned letting you go.

Crawling and turning to John, you smiled as he had started removing his shirt for you, helping him remove his pants you couldn't help moaning with him as the guys took turns playing with your clit, building you to another orgasm. Settling between John's thighs you suckled on his cock, his fingers scraping your scalp before fisting your hair holding you tightly. Feeling someone's fingers pumping into you as the other two abuse your clit you lifted your head up, mouth letting go of John's cock with a pop, "God, please don't stop. I'm so close." You whined grinding your hips with them, walls clenching around fingers tightly before a breathy moan left your throat. Weakly sitting up you looked at Simon, he had removed his baclava, undressing him, you slowly trailed around his body, focusing on his arms mostly knowing that the rest of his body is always covered but on some rare occasions he does pull his sleeves up at times. You still wanted people to know he was just as well marked as the rest.

Straddling Simon after being content with your work you ground on him moaning when the head of his dick kept catching your clit. Getting up to slightly hover over him as he lined himself up with you you gasped as your cunt stretched around him as you lowered down. Moving slowly with his guided movements you looked at Kyle, leaned down by him and started suckling at his cock moaning as Simon started pounding up into you grunting as your walls fluttered around him. Feeling Simon's thumb rubbing your clit you felt close and moaned around Kyle's cock as he pushed the back of your head down groaning as he came down your throat and Simon pushed up into you as he held your waist down against himself cumming deep inside you as you also came.

Panting as you were laid down onto your bed, Simon gently moving himself. You noticed that as Johnny got between your legs, lifting your legs up to his shoulders, Simon had put his baclava back on, you wondered momentarily if he was also over whelmed but your mind blanked when Johnny eased his throbbing cock into your sensitive cunt.

You didn't see the slim figure in the hall or small flash of a light but Simon and John did, both irate, having clearly seen who had caught all of them and decided to take a picture of your most vulnerable moment. For the time being they continued to focus on you, deciding to give the person in the hall a show that will be their last.

John gently ran his knuckles on your cheek as you held your head off the edge of the bed guiding his dick to your open mouth moaning as Johnny's thrusts started rocking you into John, slowly forcing you to take more of him, relaxing your throat you thoroughly blanked out as the two fucked into you. Rightly using your holes as you came again, Johnny whimpering as you milked him but he refused to stop. Drunk off of you, he pushed your thighs down to your chest, his cock ramming into you as John rested a hand on your throat moaning as he could feel his dick fucking your throat.

Digging your nails into John's hips you moaned around him when you and Johnny came, the guys all pouring out their love and claim for you. John groaned as he pushed flesh against your mouth cumming, tightening his grip on your throat feeling his cock twitch, cumming deep in you along with Johnny. As both men slowly pulled out of you, you gasped whining at the lose and stimulation as you were moved careful to lay properly in your bed, Kyle laying with you as Johnny listened to whatever Simon was whispering to him. John got in behind you, cuddling you as everyone massaged your limbs.

Yawning, you wrapped your arms around Kyle resting your head on his chest, humming as John told you how much you mean to all of them. Falling asleep you whispered back to all of them, "Love you guys." When they were sure you were sleeping, Johnny and Simon quickly got dressed and left to retrieve the disgusting little intruder while John and Kyle stayed with you. You were none the wiser of what was happening but in complete bliss.

----

Like a Dream

I've been working on trying to get this done for the past few days and good lord!!🥴 I was so scattered brained trying to remember where each guy was and just absolutely getting lost in the damn fantasy. But here, declarations of love, group therapy, and some pizaz.✨ Really hope ya'll enjoyed. I'm thinking the next post will be a wrap up of this maybe two more posts but we'll see. I do have already another story brewing in my head that's bugging to get out but I want to finish this one. Let me know what ya'll think.

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98752-blog · 5 months ago

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super scary pt2

TW: Anal, coercion?, public fondling, public orgasm, tail pulling, thigh riding,

The bar was a cacophony of sound, low lights and a sea of colors and chaos.

It wasn't hard to spot your boys, tucked in the back of the bar, right by the washrooms, a wide view of the whole room.

What surprised you was the costumes they were sporting and even in your semi-delirious state you were baffled.

Your captain was sporting a phantom of the opera mask, dark cloak falling over his shoulders, overtop of the crisp suit he wore.

Gaz was nearly looking like himself, red jacket over an England football jersey, plaid trousers but his neck and hands were adorned with golden accessories.

The one that shocked you the most was your lieutenant, donning a denim vest over a black shirt, spikes atop his shoulders, a red feathery mohawk protruded from his mask, and he had even tied a red bandana around his bicep, the fabric flexing when he reached for his glass.

"Took you two long enough, thought you'd keep us waitin' all night." Ghost rumbled, taking a swig of his bourbon. You couldn't stop staring at him, only jerking in surprise when Soap pulled you onto the bench, your core and ass pulsing from the sudden movement.

A fresh wave of slick trickled down your thighs and you ducked your head in embarrassment, praying to the Gods that your squadmates wouldn't notice.

"Sorry, Lt. Our lil medic had a bit of an issue with 'er costume - couldnae quite figure i' out but I helped. Ain't tha' righ' birdie?" Soap nudged you conspiratorially, you scowled at him, heat rising beneath your cheeks, you could feel your heartbeat in your cunt - and having four pairs of eyes on you certainly wasn't making things more bearable.

"I didn't want to come." You admitted, frown marring your face.

"You lost a bet." Ghost surmised, assessing your reaction instantly. You nodded in defeat, shifting in your seat when the plug pressed against the sensitive spot inside you. You could barely think, could barely breathe - the conversation was carrying on without you, which suited you perfectly, but you needed release, just a little scratch.

"Soap-", the pressure from sitting to standing had you gritting your teeth, hand reaching out to snatch his arm.

"Come with me to get more drinks." No room for argument in your tone, he shrugged when all eyes turned to him, scooting out of the booth and following behind dutifully.

"Doin' alrigh' bonnie? Lookin' awfully heated there." When you both finally reached the bar.

"And who's fault is that?" You seethed, eyes narrowing at his faux innocent expression. He smiled coyly, eyes half lidding when he spied the way your chest rose and fell rapidly.

"Och, dinnae flap, wee one - jus'a coupla hours and ye can work i' off teh yer hearts content." He leaned in, breath warming your ear further.

"Could go fer a quickie if yer real desperate." You squeezed your eyes shut when someone bumped into you from behind, jostling your tail up your ass even more. You hissed quietly, a whine slipping out, Soap pressed himself to your front, head dipped low to speak more filth in your ear - he was all you could see, all you could hear - the loud music drowned out in the sweet lull of his brogue.

"Could jus' take ye in the back, would only need a minute b'fore yer gushin' over ma fingers." You bit your lip, his lips grazed your forehead and you looked at him through your eyelashes, the red hood covering his head, hiding his mohawk, casted a shadow over his gaze - pinning you in place. You sucked in a breath, churning blue waters; a thunderstorm waiting to happen, if you looked away you would be sucked back in, you would drown.

"W-we can't risk it. They'll know..." You whimpered, thighs gently pressing together to abate the hunger licking you in your gut. He smirked, lips pressing to your brow.

"Big ba' wolf, not so ba'. More like a wee pup." He crooned, near mocking. You couldn't bring yourself to retort, at some point you had slipped so close to Soap his thick thigh had come in-between your legs, pressing up against your cunt, just barely grazing the anal plug.

Lost in your haze you barely registered someone coming up right behind you, and tugging on your tail - heat lapped at your insides, you gasped, a moan leaving your throat, the motion sent you jerking into Soap, placing even more pressure on your already sensitive clit. Two sets of hands steadied you as you keened, an orgasm tearing through you, making you stumble.

"Fuckin' 'ell," you heard behind you.

Oh no, oh no, no, no, no

"Ghost," You whined, his warm hands shifting from your waist to your hips. You tipped your head, gaze looking upwards - his dark brown eyes were nearly black, brows lowered behind his mask. Fuck you must have looked like a sight, hair messy, face glistening and mouth agape, desperately trying to breathe through your post orgasmic daze, while your hips were softly rocking back and forth.

"Thought you lot were pickin' a scrap. Looks like I was wrong." Heat curled once more in your cunt, he hadn't taken his hands off you, in fact, he hadn't even looked away - his darkened eyes pinning you in place.

"Innit she jus' tha cutest, Lt.?" Soap said, mouth stretched in a grin, Ghost hummed behind you, eyes dancing over your features before rising to meet Soaps stare.

"Prettiest girl I ever seen." Ghost agreed, you trembled in their hold - the praise dripping down your legs in near rivulets, soaking through Soap's pants..

"Should sho'er how pretty she is." A set of hands drifted down your body, hands gently prying your cheeks apart, something thick pressed itself into you from behind, the rough material doing nothing to hide the size and hardness.

"Does this pup follow orders?"

"Guess we'll find out, Eh, L.t?"

For my muses: @shotmrmiller , @charliemwrites, @ghouljams

you make my worms feel seen

#its 4am #cod #im screaming #send me lots of help #let me touch grass #or a hot man #PLEASE #based on Ghosts new skin in warzone #punk141 #sorry for mistakes #havent wrote in long time #smuts hard

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