#soapghost smut

[spinning-stars]

"Cheeky☠️"

GHOST X SOAP smut

Warnings⚠️- Teasing, blue balls.

Ghost was sitting in his chair doing work in his office, the entire day Soap has been teasing him. On the Field when Ghost was tying his show, soap was there in his knees, giving Ghost the bedroom eyes with a giddy smile on his face. When Ghost would try to do anything Soap would smile and leave, innocently skipping away. Every time Soap passed Ghost he would kiss the sweet spot on the back of his neck, when Ghost would look he wouldn't see Soap at all. Soap was smart, he would only do things when the room was loud or when Ghost wasn't paying attention so it's not like Ghost could grab him in time to pull him somewhere private. Soap was driving him mad.

Soap crept in behind him trying not to break him out of his thoughts. Ghost snaps out of his trance when he feels soap's warm hand rubbing up and down his arm slowly. He kisses Ghost's neck again then pulls away. "I'm heading to Gaz's for some bear, bye!" Soap says while a smirk creeps on his face. Ghost reacts rather fast, grabbing Soaps arm and lightly tugging him closer. "Alright you cheeky bastard, why have you been doin' this all bloody day." Ghost says while looking up at Soap. "I have no clue what you mean Lt." Soap said while softly carrying his hand to Ghosts chest. Ghost pulls up his mask just enough to show his mouth and pulled soap in for a kiss. Soap bit down on Ghost's bottom lip making him open his mouth just enough for Soap to slide his tongue in and explore every inch of Ghost's mouth. "Fuck Johnny..." Ghost groans quietly as he pulls away. Soap looks down and notices Ghost's boner as he stands up. "Hm, looks like you have a problem there L.t, it's a shame Gaz is waiting for me... toodles!" Soap says while kissing Ghost on the cheek. "Goddamnit Johnny you-" Ghost gets cut off by Soaps giggle and teasing voice. "Awe, what? Don't like it when I stay cheeky, I'll bring you back a beer, love ya!" Soap yells while shutting the door. Leaving a hot and bothered Ghost in the room alone wanting so much more.

❤️Authors note- Hiii requests are open! I wanted to write a short fic of these two goobers idk why. Currently I'm making a 'MASTERLIST' so that it will be easier to find some of the genres and fandoms I post on/do. Have a lovely day<3

UPDATE- MASTERLIST IS DONE AND OPEN

[ka-freaking-boom]

Morning After

Seven Deadly Sins AU

Lust Soap x Wrath Ghost

Warnings: NSFW, Attempted Coercion, Violence.

___

Soap flopped back into the bed, the cheap springs creaking as he settled with a content sigh, the man next to him following his example with a low, satisfied groan. Soap’s full pink lips curled into a smirk as he stretched, the delicious ache of sore muscles causing his dick to twitch where it lay limp and wrung dry against his sweat-slick thigh.

“That was good. Maybe we could do this again sometime?” The smiling nameless man to his right turned on his side in order to face Soap, who was grinning at the stained ceiling with half-lidded eyes. The disgusting undertone of insecurity in the question snapped Soap out of his post-orgasmic haze, causing the Scot to roll his eyes with a mocking snort, his bedmate frowning at the unkind noise.

“Nah, Ahm going ta have ta pass. It was fun, but yer not good enough tae come back ta fer seconds.” Soap sighed as he sat up, rotating to plant his feet flat on the floor before pushing up to stand. He listened with half an ear as the man behind him scrambled to his feet as well, confusion clear on his face as he watched Soap search for his discarded clothing, which seemed to be scattered about the cheap motel room.

“I'm sorry- What?” The man stuttered and Soap let out a heavy breath, his mounting annoyance ruining the perfect afterglow that he had been basking in up to that point. The Scot ignored the man’s desperate inquiry in favor of bending down to grab his briefs when he spotted the corner of the gray cloth peeking out from under the small table near the kitchenette.

He pinched the fabric between his fingers and dragged it out from its hiding spot, pulling them up his legs to rest in their rightful place over his lower half. Soap licked his lips at the sight of the damp spot on the front of his briefs directly over his groin, the clingy material doing its best to reawaken his endless libido. 

“Aye.” Soap casually clicked his tongue when he found his jeans, slipping them up and over his legs as well. He let the waistband ride low enough to shamelessly show off his delicious V-line, the suggestive grooves tracing a straight path down to his slowly refilling cock. “Ahm goin' ta hav' ta pass, mate. Ah wish Ah could say that it was a pleasure.” Soap gave the man a lazy two-finger salute as he threw his jacket on, leaving himself bare-chested in favor of just carrying his stained shirt. 

The whole reason for Soap’s sex-scapade in the first place happened to be because of his ruined shirt. 

Earlier that night, the man he’d bedded had somehow managed to trip and spill his sour-smelling drink all over the fabric while Soap had been returning to the pool table that his siblings had claimed with food for himself and Gaz. Fortunately for the dumbass drunkard, Soap had convinced his siblings to let him handle it and he'd found a way for the clumsy idiot to pay him back for soaking one of his favorite shirts in alcohol in a way that wouldn't end in a bloodbath.

Or, at least he’d hoped. He was actually a bit disappointed with the guy’s performance if he was being honest with himself.

“Wait, hang on a sec!” The man spluttered as he rushed to catch up with Soap before he could make it to the door, blocking his exit with his body as if that alone would be enough to keep Soap from leaving. “You could stay for another round and we can see whether or not you’re not impressed after I'm done with you." The insistent man’s attempt at seduction was subpar at best and Soap would know since he practically invented the concept. 

Soap rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, trying to channel Price's seemingly infinite patience, before shifting his gaze to take in the messily-dressed idiot that he had taken to bed. This was why he hated indulging most humans with a vengeance, they always ended up turning into little whiny bitches that were desperate for validation. He much preferred the big, dangerous types that could give as good as they got and keep up with his stamina.

Soap let his tongue wet his lips, his eyes glazing over as he recalled the last time he and Ghost had fallen into bed together. Neither of them had paid any mind to the loud crack of the door slamming into the opposite wall as they burst into their shared hotel room, both of them far too occupied with trying to devour each other that Soap had impatiently forwent digging around for his keycard in favor of simply kicking it open.

Soap shivered with barely-contained excitement at the memory of Ghost shoving him down onto the mattress so violently that Soap had actually bounced a few times before he was stilled by Ghost draping himself over him, taking both his wrists into one big hand and pinning them above his head. 

The man's gaze was an alluring mix of dark, covetous and hungry as he slowly rolled his mask up just enough to reveal the bottom half off his face before slithering down Soap's body. The tip of his nose brushed lightly over Soap's skin, the Scot’s core muscles rippling at the ticklish sensation, before Ghost's thick hands gripped at his hips, each of his heavy breaths fanning out across the bulge in Soap's pants as he leaned in-

The delicious fantasy shattered when noticeably slim and uncalloused fingers curled over his bare hip, pulling Soap out of his daydream and throwing the smug male in front of him into sharp focus, the sudden close proximity very much unwelcome.

“Change your mind, baby?” The man purred and Soap reached down to wrap his own thicker fingers around the offending wrist, letting his grip rest there for a moment before he suddenly tightened his grasp, the fragile bone unceremoniously shattering with a loud crunch when Soap jerked the limb into an unnatural angle.

“Not a chance, mate.” Soap answered casually as the man’s high-pitched scream of pain echoed off the walls. When the other man's knees buckled and he fell, Soap released his grip in order to let the trembling body drop, watching with thinly veiled disgust as the man curled into the fetal position while cradling his broken wrist. 

Without another word, Soap opened the door with a click, moving out into the hall and leaving his most recent lover cowering on the floor of the skeevy motel room. Soap whistled an upbeat tune as he took the stairs two at a time, eager to get back to his siblings, who he'd ditched back at the bar. He had no doubt that they would be exactly where he had left them since they never bothered relocating if Soap went off to play with a new toy.

They were considerate like that.

[mrsparrasblog]

COD porn links

MDNI

I tried to add some more inclusive vids like male X male plus sized and fetishes

Kyle

He is mad at you for flirting with another guy

Dryhumping childhood best friend Kyle

Kyle fucks you while you're handcuffed

Sucking his dick after deployment

After he tells you I love you for the first time (mxm)

Kyle being a good boy

Kyle and his wife

Price

John teaches his rookies some respect (mxm)

You talked back Infront of the team ( god he looks so much like price - respectable drooling not from the mouth)

Husband Price

He apologised for being so long on Deployment

John price with his new insecure sergeant

Sucking older bf price

Price is hungry for your cunt

Simon

Simon uses your cum as lube (male X male)

You're not allowed to cum (mxm)

Pre military Simon fucking his first girlfriend

Just the tip love

Simon always loved them bigger

Soap

The minute he comes back from deployment (male X male)

Johnny in lingerie

The video Johnny shows when someone asks how you look

(never shows your face but your cunt is okay -idiot)

Johnny has a foot fetish

Johnny loves you

Please let me play with your tits

Johnny is a needy bastard

Extra

The video you got after sending them a nude

But why does it give Johnny and Simon "we're just friends" vibes

Threesome with Simon and Johnny

Johnny getting himself off in the barracks

Sunshine and price from my fanfic

Valeria and Alejandro sharing you

[call-of-daydreams]

Price, entering Johnny's room: "Why are you naked??"

Soap: "I-I don't have any clean clothes"

Price: *opens his closet*

Price: "What are you saying? You have shirts, pants, socks, hi Simon, more shirts, jackets-"

[steriotypicaloutlaw]

So, most of y'all said let the man purr. So I let the man purr.

Here's the fic. Be warned, it is smut.

[lushrue]

dinner party (nsfw)

ghoap x fem!reader

cw: oral (m and f receiving), dubcon (sort of?), voyeurism, dom ghost

it was supposed to be a normal dinner party.

by all accounts, it had been up to this point. it wasn’t unusual for your husband to invite the men he worked with over for dinner, especially johnny. the man lives alone, he’d said, least I can do is give ‘em a nice home-cooked meal every once in a while. you always pulled out the stops, cooking something bordering on gourmet that the mess halls couldn’t even hope to replicate. tonight, it had been grilled salmon with wild rice and roasted asparagus.

conversation over dinner was normal, aided by the wine and whiskey loosening everyone’s lips. you’re far more sociable than simon is, but that doesn't take much, so the alcohol kept the words flowing freely. it wasn’t until after dinner that things started to shift.

the three of you settled in the living room with your respective spirits, wrapping up the night with friendly conversation over light dessert. you moved to your usual spot in the armchair beside the bookshelf, but the sound of simon clicking his tongue at you stopped you in your tracks. he was sat in his own chair nearest the sofa, legs spread like a king on his throne. you couldn’t quite keep your eyes from wandering, admiring the way his jeans clung to his thighs. he met your gaze, the corner of his lips quirked up in a mischievous smirk. he patted his thigh and you felt embarrassment burn your cheeks.

you glanced over to johnny, as if to remind simon that you had company, but he didn’t seem to care. his dark eyes stayed fixed on you, silence falling over the room as johnny’s gaze followed his lieutenant’s. simon cocked his head, a gesture that you recognized as obey or else. you didn’t feel like testing the waters tonight, so you padded over to him, perching yourself on his thigh.

your husband’s arm snaked around your waist as you swirled your wine in your glass, staring at the whirlpool it created to distract you from the way johnny was eyeing you. simon had pulled you onto his lap for a reason, and part of you wondered if it wasn’t entirely selfish motivation that had you positioned here. simon’s hand stroked over the crushed velvet of the dress he’d insisted you wear, sliding down to grip your ass occasionally when you got too fidgety.

conversation gradually turned to their work, so you tuned them out. it wasn’t that you weren’t interested; most of it just flew over your head. it gave you time to focus on the way your husband was feeling you up. his hand never stayed in one place too long, sliding from your shoulder to your spine to the nape of your neck and down. it made shivers run down your spine, goosebumps rising on your arms and legs the longer it continued. despite your squirming, you managed to stay ladylike, a metaphorical aspirin between your knees as the two men talked.

“so, how’s y’r sex life?” simon asked, which snapped you back to attention. johnny seemed just as bewildered as you did at the question, his cheeks flushed scarlet beneath the stubble. you nudged simon’s shoulder, shaking your head at him. “simon, that’s not polite,” you said, but he didn’t pay you any mind. he was too busy watching johnny fluster and scramble to find his words. “l.t., I-” he started, but simon held up a hand to stop him. “nah, don’ play dumb with me, lad. heard ya jus’ the other day in the rec room. talkin’ about how ya haven’t had a good shag in months, somethin�� like tha’.”

you were just as embarrassed as johnny was now. you knew simon wasn’t the most tactful of men, but this was a whole other level. johnny stuttered around his words, trying to find some kind of reply that was appropriate for the situation. nothing would be appropriate for this situation, you thought. simon just chuckled, his hand rubbing the plush cheek of your ass. “look how flustered ‘e is, lovie,” he said to you, finally giving you his full attention. “poor man, doesn’ have a good bird like I do. no one to cook ‘im a nice dinner and keep ‘is cock wet.”

as flustered as you were, the words sent a jolt straight to your core. taking care of your husband was a sense of pride for you. you got a primal satisfaction out of sinking to your knees and sucking him dry after he’d had a hard day. it meant the world to you when his shoulders sagged and released the burden that he’d been carrying, all at your hands. you shifted on his lap, pressing your thighs together to get some relieving friction.

simon looked back at johnny, who seemed just as affected. he had his hands clasped over his lap, his gaze cast down at the throw rug like it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. “ya wanna know wha’ it’s like, sergeant?” simon asked, his voice dropping into a register only you got to hear. “wanna feel my sweet, pretty dove wrapped aroun’ ya?” johnny jolted like he’d been shocked with a prod, wide blue eyes looking up at his commanding officer. there was bewilderment there, you noticed. clearly, he hadn’t been expecting this. but behind the surprise, there was something more carnal. he looked hungry, like a mutt begging for scraps from the table.

your husband placed a firm hand on your back, taking the wine glass from your hands and coaxing you to stand. “g’won, lovie. on your knees for our bashful lad, hmm?” simon’s choice of words struck you. our. this was for both of you, not just simon. the two of you had discussed the idea of a threesome once, but it felt like a pipe dream then. you’d expressed interest, never really expecting simon to share but confessing your fantasy all the same. and now, here it was. Happening.

you did as you were told, kneeling in front of the sofa where johnny was. from this angle, you could see how harshly his chest was rising and falling, his breath quick and uncertain. it brought you a strange sense of satisfaction that you could fluster a special ops soldier so easily. you sat there expectantly, but johnny didn’t move. he just stared at you, almost the same way he’d stared at his dinner plate before digging in. his eyes traced the contours of your body, over your shoulders and down to your full chest, over your breasts and down to the plush of your stomach and thighs where they pressed against your dress.

“starin’ won’ make ‘er cum, johnny,” simon quipped. you drew in a sharp breath, glancing back over your shoulder at your husband. he clicked his tongue again, motioning back towards johnny. “ah-ah, keep your eyes on ‘im, precious. he needs y’r attention more’n I do.” you looked back up at johnny dutifully, your lips parting slightly as you waited for him to do something, anything. the fabric of the rug was biting into your knees, making you a tad uncomfortable. “she’s yer wife, simon, I cannae jus’-” “you can an’ you will,” simon interrupted. “the only way she gets any pleasure tonigh’ is by your hand, an’ I don’t let my wife go to bed unsatisfied.” you let out a whine at that, the stakes so much higher now that you knew the terms. johnny just had to touch you.

“steamin’ jesus,” the Scot cursed under his breath, your whine sending a spark of pleasure between his legs. he’d never heard a woman make that sound before, especially not at the prospect of being pleased by him. “i can touch ‘er?” he asked, but he didn’t look at simon for an answer. his stare was more intense, sizing you up, deciding which piece of you would be most juicy to sink his teeth into. simon hummed in amusement. “unless y’r bloody telekinetic, s’pose ya have to, don’ ya?” simon responded, shifting in his chair. you heard the zipper of his jeans go down and it was almost painful that you couldn’t look at him.

johnny reached forward, taking your chin in his thumb and forefinger. he stroked his thumb along your jaw, shuddering on his exhale. “y’r so soft,” he breathed out, marvelling at the beauty of you on your knees. you lean your head into his touch, following the pulls and pushes of his hand as he inspects you. “such a bonnie bird,” he cooed, spreading his legs and pulling you in closer to him. you shuffle forward, settling yourself more squarely between his knees.

“simon says ya suck cock like a dream. is he righ’?” johnny asked. you nod, leaning forward to mouth at his crotch through his jeans. you could feel how hard he was already from barely having touched you. instead of focusing on the fact that simon was going around blabbing about your blowjob skills, you chose to take in as much of johnny’s musk as you could through his pants. you couldn’t quite smell him, but there was the barest hint of his body wash peeking through.

simon had started stroking himself to the sight of both of you, the wet shlick reaching your ears and emboldening you. knowing that your husband was enjoying this ignited a fire that started in your core and spread through your veins. johnny got the same motivation, locking eyes with simon for only a moment before shoving his jeans and boxers down. you gasp at the suddenness of it, placing your hands on his bare thighs to steady yourself. before you can fully get your bearings, johnny grabs the back of your head and shoves you down.

he’s not as long as simon, but he’s certainly thicker. he fills your mouth almost instantly, your cheeks aching a little with the stretch. you and johnny moan in unison, your eyes fluttering shut as johnny’s hand balls up in your hair. simon chuckles behind you, his hand tightening around himself. “tha’s it, lad. fuck ‘er mouth good, she likes it a bit rough.”

johnny’s hips start thrusting, the ruddy tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. tears bead up in the corners of your eyes, whimpers and moans giving johnny some vibration as he fucks your throat. you applauded yourself for the decision not to wear mascara; cleaning the tears and spit from your face would be difficult enough. saliva dribbled down johnny’s length, wetting your lips as you hollowed your cheeks. the salt of him coated your tongue, precum leaking down your throat. above you, johnny was grunting and groaning like a rutting bull, thrusting into your mouth with abandon. “how’s my girl feel, johnny?” simon asked, his voice sounding strained. hearing just how affected they both were had your pussy dripping with arousal. “fuck, si, she’s…ah, so warm. fuckin’ milkin’ me.”

your tongue traced the protruding vein on the underside of johnny’s cock, delighting in the shudder you earned from him. it didn’t take long after that for him to finish down your throat. you swallowed every drop, taking in everything he offered. he was more bitter than simon, but you enjoyed it all the same. you pulled your mouth off of johnny’s cock with a wet pop, peeking up at him with heavy lidded eyes. the man you saw was not the man who’d sat across from you at dinner. he looked downright feral, grabbing you like a man possessed. he pulled you up from the floor, laying you out on the sofa and tugging your underwear down.

before johnny tossed them away, he held them to his nose, drinking in the smell of you. he groaned, balling the fabric up in his fists. “y’r bird smells like heav’n, l.t.,” he rasped, dropping the panties and fixing his wild gaze back on you. “bet she tastes even better.” without any further warning, he dipped his head between your thighs, thick tongue lapping up the moisture from your cunt. you squealed in surprise, throwing your head back against the cushions. simon bit back a curse behind his hand, watching his best friend devour his wife like his last meal. the mere thought was enough to make him spill all over his hand and stomach, his release silent so as not to distract johnny.

you didn’t think anything could. your thighs clamped around his head to keep him in place, but it was hardly necessary. even the rapture couldn’t pull him away from your pussy and the nectar that dripped from it. as much as you enjoyed the feeling, johnny wasn’t as coordinated as simon was. his tongue was wild, moving for his pleasure rather than yours. 

you twitched and moaned when he would happen to graze your clit, hoping that he’d get the hint, but he never did. there was no technique, no purpose. johnny came up for air, hazy eyes meeting yours. he was pussy-drunk, your juices shining on his lips and chin. he nosed at the inside of your plush thigh, sinking his teeth into the fat there. it stung and your back arched, reaching down to push his head away. the sting wasn’t pleasurable, not compared to his tongue against your cunt.

the moment simon caught the resistance from you, he was on his feet, yanking johnny back by his mohawk. the Scot gasped, back arching as simon held his hair tight in his fist. “easy, mutt,” simon growled in johnny’s ear, pushing his head down to look at you. “tha’s my girl, and y’r gonna treat ‘er with the respect she deserves. not some blushin’ virgin tha’s never had a woman, are ya?” johnny huffed, taking the question as an insult to his manhood. “‘course not,” he said, voice tense and strained. simon shook johnny’s head, then released his hair. “didn’ think so. remember y’r place, treat ‘er right.”

the scolding from simon had leveled johnny, forced him to slow down and think with his brain and not his cock. you twitched and whined as he paid more attention to your aching clit, swollen and puffy with desire. your hips bucked against your will, pressing against johnny’s tongue harder. 

finally, his tongue pushed inside you, caressing your walls. you clenched around him, tension building in your lower stomach. “don’t stop, fuck, don’t stop!” you begged, chest heaving. simon appeared at your side, stroking your hair. his gaze was soft, admiring, a welcome contrast to johnny’s. “cum on his tongue, love. he’s been waitin’ for it, not gonna stop ‘til he gets it.” those words were all it took to push you over the edge, shuddering and whining as johnny licked you through your orgasm.

you felt floaty after, the pleasure of having your husband’s best friend eat you out while your husband watched going straight to your head. there were cooed praises and kisses to your cheeks, but you weren’t entirely sure who they came from. hushed words were exchanged at your feet, then johnny was zipping himself up and kissing you goodbye. simon wrapped you in your favorite fuzzy blanket, the gentle sway of his gait soothing you as he carried you to the bedroom. once he’d laid you on the bed, he started to leave, but your soft hum and hand on his arm stopped him. “si? can we do that again?” you asked, voice soft and wrecked.

simon just chuckled, brushing your hair away from your face. “don’ you worry, lovie. he’s comin’ back for dinner next week.”

[evilgwrl]

I’m obsessed with Roommate!Ghoap sorry…

Masterlist

Roommate!Ghoap who both jerked off when you sent an application to rent out a room with them, your profile picture a mirror selfie of you in a body-con dress, curves accentuated as they zoomed in

Roommate!Ghoap who welcomed you in feverishly as they offered to help you set up your room, greedy eyes lapping in your exposed flesh as you bent over to pick up boxes

Roommate!Ghoap inviting you to watch movies with them, encouraging you to sit between them both as they pressed up against you

Roommate!Ghoap experimenting with 3 way kisses with you

Roommate!Ghoap complaining about how their bills are soooo high (especially the water) and saying it would be easier if you all just showered together instead

Roommate!Ghoap taking turns eating your pussy while you sucked the other off, turning it into a competition on who could make you cum the fastest

Roommate!Ghoap coercing you slowly into double penetration before they both mercilessly pound into you, leaving their seed inside both holes before swapping over with one another

[nrdmssgs]

Masterlist

Yes, tactical kilt is a thing

[vanilla-moon-fairy]

"dinnae act innocent bonnie, we all know where your wee lil' mouth was 10 minutes ago"

you hear johnny's smug voice through that damn walkie talkie along with a muffled chuckle from gaz.

fuck! you forgot to turn off your damn mic before sucking what might be the biggest cock you've ever seen, and also enjoying the hottest blowjob that you've given. no amount of excuses is gonna save you now, everyone knows that you like being face fucked by your superior commanding officer, lieutenant ghost.

but who were you to deny that anyways, you did love sucking his hung cock so much, suckling the tip, peppering the shaft with small kisses, letting the precum drool down your cheek before you actually start taking him fully while he has his hand behind your head guiding his sweetheart through the blowie. Although he's a pinnacle of patience, determination and resilience, it all breaks when he has your soft plump lips wrapped at the base of his cock, the thrusts get sloppy, uneven as he chases his release. And mutters a "swallow it, yea pum'kin jus' like that, All of it" as you drink on his cum, its bitter sweet as per the taste, but its a bit easier now since you're used to it.

it had been noticed by everyone around the base how much the atmosphere charged when ever you and him made even the slightest of contacts, the veterans seemed to ignore it, having had their fair share of flings in their prime, the rookies enjoyed it, but it was soap who enjoyed it the most.

johnny doesn't knows when the lieutenant will share his bird with him. But he's certain that he will one day and its not that far away.

[spookypete-94]

So Imagine...

Just a little blurb. Simon solves something by bringing Johnny around.

Simon Riley having to be a total gentleman when around you while home. Watching his mother being mistreated most of her life causing him to make the conscious decision to be better.

Simon Riley walking on the outside of the sidewalk, hand and arm wrapped around your back to keep you safe. Walking a little faster to beat you to any doors that need opened in your path. Thinking you're going to carry any of those groceries he just paid for inside? Yeah right. While on that thought, you keep your pretty shiny debit card in that condition. Don't even worry about sliding it because Simon's already paid for whatever it is you were going to purchase.

So imagine the conversation when he comes to bed, and you are slyly smiling, pulling the covers up to your chin- all because you are laying on the side he was so possessive of.

Reaching underneath you, he grabs the blanket you are on top of, rolling you to the otherside of the bed.

"Come on, Si! Let me lay on your side! I wanna stick my leg out."

Simple, and articulate, he answers with a, "No."

"Whyyy?" You whined and pouted getting under the covers on your side snuggling into a pillow.

"Closer to the door if someone breaks in."

You blinked at him, realizing he was worried about your safety at all times.... But instead of being thankful about it, you smarted back.

"I lay next to a window. You think someone can't come in from there?" Sly smile returning, voice coy in nature. All you were trying to do was be cheeky, still trying to get your way.

He hadn't thought about that... No worries he will come up with a solution.

"Still no, love. Go to sleep, we have company in the morning."

The next day, you welcomed and greeted Simon's long time best friend. Soap, Johnny Mactavish.

The day was full of laughs, stories, and food.

But you see, it was also full of surprises. The guest room had been made up the day before by you just for Johnny. When you found his bag in your room, you brushed it off and he just picked the wrong room. No worries.

So imagine... Night had settled into your bones. Tired and weary, you all headed up stairs to the sleep quarters. Johnny not too far off the entire time. Finally, it had been clocked onto your radar as strange. Every turn, he was not far off. Noticing the excited gleam and shimmer in his eye.

You see, you had failed to hear about their conversation earlier. Simon expressing to Johnny how you pointed out the open window next to your shared bed. How could the love of his life be so exposed to a threat?? Don't stress it though. Who better to fix that thought then the person who does that out in the field for Ghost? Only difference Johnny was now doing it for you, instead of Simon.

So imagine the look of confusion as you faced Simon when Johnny followed you into your bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

"Simon?" Your quiet voice called out to him looking for an answer.

"Still worried about that window, love?" Simon asked backing you up to the bed.

Two unknown arms feeling foreign to you wrapped around your waist, tucking you closer to him. Turning as best you could, you saw Johnny.

He laid closest to the window, Simon closer to the door, and you sandwiched in the middle. No safer place you could be... After they were done with you of course.

Simon Ghost Riley Masterlist

[lovifie]

Well, I Wasn't On That Tunnel ❤️

Masterlist - Taglist Form

All Chapters

Please don't look too much into the plot holes. Canon can suck my ass, I'm making my own, xoxo 💋

Pairings: Ghoap x Reader.

Warnings: Poly relationship, mentions of death, mentions of guns, rotating POV (mostly Simon's), Spoilers → amnesia, smut, voyeurism

“THE TUNNEL IT'S COLLAPSING! FOLLOW MAKAROV! I'LL TAKE JOHNNY OUT!”

That was the last thing Ghost heard of you.

It's been months since Johnny and you were declared KIA on that mission. 

You weren't even meant to be inside, you were the medic, you were supposed to wait outside. 

But the moment Makarov shot Johnny he panicked.

Ghost panicked.

And Simon panicked.

You came in running, panting for the effort of carrying with you the medical bag half your size. 

You were the one who told them to run. To go after Makarov and kill him. 

You were trying to wake up Johnny, Ghost knew it was a lost cause. He couldn't find the pulse, he was gone.

His Johnny was gone.

The last thing he expected was that he was about to lose you too.

Once outside, he kept looking at the tunnel. Waiting for you to come out, whether it was dragging Johnny's body or alone; it didn't matter. You needed to get out.

But after the tunnel collapsed and you didn't get out, it was Price who finally pushed Ghost away.

He barely remembers getting back to base, doesn't remember what Price kept telling him on the helicopter, doesn't remember skipping meals for days, doesn't remember crying himself to sleep for weeks.

But he remembers your face, he remembers Johnny's face.

Oh, what a coward he was. 

Two people that he loved, that found their way under his skin right into his heart. Two people that Simon wanted to grow old next to, two people that made Simon want to wake up every morning. 

And he was still not brave enough to confess his feelings to neither of them.

He used to stay awake late at night dreaming about how he would do it. After a long time of debating with himself, figuring out what those feelings inside of him were.

Until he figured out it was love, only to them have to face the complex situation of loving two people at the same time.

But even how complicated of a man Simon Riley was, when it comes to his wants it all turns simpler. If on the menu there are two dishes that he likes? He is getting both, obviously. Why choose?

So if all his lonely and twisted life he had never loved anyone, now he suddenly fell in love with two people. He wasn't going to give up one of them and their love just for society's norms.

Murder is also against society’s norms, and he gets paid for it. 

But it was too late now.

Maybe it was for the better.

He could lie to himself, agree that he never confessed because it was not his destiny. 

Not because they would have not loved him back. 

Not because they would have been scared of him.

Not because they wouldn't have been able to see past his mask. 

Not because they would have rather dated each other than him.

It's easier like this.

Simon knows how to mourn a loved one. 

What he doesn't know is, how it's possible he got a message from you this morning when you died four months ago.

You are stepping out of the shower, skin warm from the water and baby hairs sticking to your forehead; when someone knocks on the bathroom door.

You furrow your eyebrows at how hard they knock, the whole door shaking with it.

“Calm down, I'm almost finished.” You grumble, pulling the towel around your body. 

You drag your feet over the towel on the floor to walk closer, and open the door annoyed by the insistent knocking.

“I told you I am almost finish-” Your words are cut off by the barrel of a gun right on your face.

You don't even have time to panic, because you immediately recognise the stupid skeleton gloves holding the gun.

“Simon?” You whisper,scared that if you talk any louder he will disappear. Price and Gaz are behind him, slowly lowering their gun when they see it's you.

There is a glistering layer over Ghost's eyes that if you didn't known any better you'd think are tears.

You push his gun down, the man still immobile as if you were the ghost; and you jump into his arms, circling his neck with your arms.

“It worked! It finally worked!” You exclaim, tears slowly running down your cheeks. “I have been trying to contact any of you for months, it finally fucking worked!”

Ghost struggles to tell whether you are laughing or crying, a mix of the two. But he can't focus on that, he can only focus on your skin under his gloves.

God, how he hated his gloves right now. 

He bites the tip of his finger, pulling the glove off spitting it somewhere. And he snakes his hand under your towel.

He knows is improper, perverted even; but he needs it. He needs to feel your warm skin under his palm, your heart beating loud and fast. 

He surrounds your waist, hands big enough to rest on your ribs, right under your chest. 

Boom, boom… boom, boom… boom, boom…

He sighs, melting onto you, his tears getting absorbed by the mask on his face. He hugs you tighter, daring you to slip from his fingers again.

He bites his lips, copper taste on his tongue, to prevent himself from sobbing.

But the sobs can be heard, and Ghost it's almost disappointed with himself until he notices your body shaking.

It's you who is crying.

And he panics again, pulling back to look at you and you cup your face, apologizing. 

“I'm sorry. I tried my best, I really did.” He can barely understand what you are trying to tell him between sobs. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

He shushes you quickly, he understands; the survivor’s guilt is a special kind of poison. But he understands, he feels it too. 

“It's alright, love. You are alright, everything is going to be alright.” He hugs you again, resting your head on his chest. Mourning Johnny will be easier if you are together, he now hates himself for thinking you were dead; for accepting it.

For mourning you for months and now having you on his arms. 

Warm and breathing. 

He can only imagine what you went through. 

You entered the tunnel because he called for you, and then he left you inside with a corpse. 

How did you get out?

How did anyone see you get out?

How did you find a house?

How did you survive alone with the guilt?

Are the scars on your shoulder for getting out or were they always there?

Were you trapped under the debris?

For how long?

But that doesn't matter, he knew you were strong. That you were clever. That you were better than him. 

He already knew that. 

Gaz and Price remain silent, reading in the situation that there is something underlying that they don't know. Letting the two of you, have your moment. 

It's only when Gaz hears the almost unnoticeable steps get closer that he moves, turning his body and almost dropping his weapon in the process when he sees him.

“Johnny?” That's all he is able to see.

And that's all that is needed to hear.

Price and Ghost whip their head around like they have been smacked, coming face to face with the man.

There are still bandages on the side of his head, he looks thinner, less muscles, sunken eyes and dark bags. But it's Johnny. 

A scarred, angry Johnny. 

Holding the pistol on his hands pointing to Ghost's head.

Looking at him as if Simon was his greatest enemy.

“Johnny…” He tries to talk to him, keeping you behind his back by instincts.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?” Johnny shouts, his hands are shaking.

That explains it, why he look like a madman, why he looks so scared under the rage, why he keeps trying to look under him.

“Johnny, it's alright.” You finally say, moving from behind Ghost, softly pushing his arm back. You walk ahead, still only on the towel; and you walk up to Johnny. You rest your hand on the pistol, pushing it down with ease. 

You raise your other hand to the men, the signal of “wait”.

Johnny looks at you with utter confusion, eyes shaking moving around your face for any kind of explanation. His hand move around you, checking for any damage; the hand that doesn't have the gun clinging to the towel. 

You cup his face between your hands, the man bending down slightly to make it easier for you to reach; you whisper something to him making him relax almost immediately. 

And then you kiss him.

On the cheek, right beside the nose making him close his eyes for a second.

But it feels like a stab on Simon's heart. 

He tries to think rationally, you were just calming him down. He knows Johnny is always desperate for physical contact, that's all. Nothing else. 

He really tries to think logically, but logically the two of you are dead and buried under a tunnel. Not standing at the end of the hall, kissing and comforting each other. 

Something about it, about the possibility there is something more going on between Johnny and you; sends Simon's inner gears spinning. 

He sees the virtual space between the two of you, slowly getting in the shape of his body.

You whisper something to Johnny, he nods, touching your forehead with his for a second, before walking back. Looking at Simon with hate on his cerulean blue eyes. 

You sigh, watching Johnny move and turn to the three still shell-shocked. 

“As far as I can tell…” You whisper, once you are close to them. “He only remembers up to when he was 20, little more, little less.”

“So he doesn't remember anyone?” Price asks after a moment.

You shake your head. “Not that he hasn't asked me about, he asked about some people but I don't know them. He thought I was a nurse when he woke up.” You explain.

“What happened in the tunnel?” Gaz asks, looking behind you to check Johnny is not back. “How did you get out? And him? He was dead.”

You shake your head again. “Not yet. Almost… but not yet. I-”

“Bonnie! You want coffee or tea?!” Johnny's voice makes everyone jump.

“Coffee, please!” You answer without skipping a beat and turn to them. “I'll explain it later, alright? It's not the place nor the time.”

Price nods once. “Get dressed, I'll contact the pilot to let them know we are flying back tonight, right?”

“Roger that.” The three of you reply almost by muscle memory.

“I'll be fast, don't rile him up.” You say, before entering the bedroom closing it behind you.

Ghost feels Price's eyes on him. 

Wondering.

Asking.

What's between you and him?

What's between you and Soap?

What's inside his mind?

“Tea is ready.” It all gets interrupted by the amnesiac man calling them to the kitchen.

They walk together, sitting around the table. Gaz and Price find it almost easy to talk to Soap, about how happy they are to see him again, about how they are flying back later, easy chatter.

But Ghost can't. 

Not when Soap finally smiles at Price making fun of Gaz's cap and Ghost's breath is knocked out of his chest. 

That's his boy.

Breathing and warm.

Just like you.

He knows it's the universe talking, telling him not to fuck it up again.

Still, he feels his heart sink every time Soap looks at him with such a sour look. Offended even. His boy.

That would jump at any opportunity to impress him, to earn his respect, his affection. Now locked like he wanted to stab him on the chest, twisting the knife in the process.

He knows it's because of you, the way the man stared at his hand as you pushed it out of the towel didn't go unnoticed by Simon. 

Not the greatest first impression. 

Does it count as a first impression if he has known the man for years? 

You walk into the kitchen not much later, Johnny's eyes lightening at seeing you; his saviour. 

You walk past Ghost, your arm resting on his shoulder as you bend down to slightly knock your head against Soap's.

And that's it, that all Simon's needs. To be involved. He doesn't need to be in the middle of you two, he is fine with being in the sidelines, but he needs to be a part of it.

He knows you are on his side, you remember him unlike Johnny. You can be the bridge to get him to Johnny; to keep Johnny from running. Make a pack with him; keep the two of you close.

A turmoil of emotions keeps spinning inside Ghost's head, all the versions of himself wanting to be right.

The part of him he thinks is unable to love telling him to let the two of you alone, you are better of without him.

The part of him he thinks is unable to be loved telling him to not even try, save himself the rejection. 

The part of him that is still unsure of what even are his feelings telling him to not get involved, that it would only confuse the two of you.

But then there is also that part of him. The part called Simon Riley; that still holds onto the chance of loving and getting love.

And he looks at you and Soap, the way Soap looks up to you. The way he used to look at him. 

“Let's pack our things up, Johnny.” You say, patting Soap’s back. “The sooner we are back home, the better.”

And you smile at Soap so kindly, so wide, so warm.

He understands how you managed to calm Soap down. Waking up from what he assumed must be something close to a coma after getting shot on the head, not remembering anything, in pain, alone. And then you appeared, so soft and so kind.

He wouldn't blame Johnny if he was already in love with you, with you being literally the only thing he knows since waking up. 

Johnny stands up, walking out of the kitchen but looking back to make sure you are walking behind him. 

The two of you disappear down the hall, voices low as you move away.

“I can't believe they are alive…” Gaz comments, sipping his tea.

“Neither do I…” Price answers, sipping his. “Bloody necromancer…”

And you are, Simon was also dead before meeting you. 

“I'm gonna check on them.” He says, downing the beverage on a gulp that burns down his throat. 

He stands up, Price and Gaz look at him as he does. They are going to talk about him as soon as he gets out, but he doesn't care. 

He has made his choice.

He loves you.

He loves Johnny.

He walks down the hall, seeing the door ajar.

His hand reaches the knob when he hears it.

His blood running cold.

“Johnny…”

It's your sweet voice moaning the name. 

The unmistakable sounds of kisses inside the room.

“I don't like how he looks at you, bonnie.” The man whispers, his breathing unstable.

“He's your best friend, Joh-Ah!” You moan, interrupting yourself as you speak.

“I don't care! I don't know him. You are mine!” The man grunts, the sound of skin slapping slowly becoming more and more clear. 

“Johnny…” You moan again, and Simon is sure that he can hear your cunt squelch around Johnny's length. 

He opens the door the slightest bit, just enough for his eyes to see the way Johnny has you bent over on the bed. 

With you laying on your stomach on the bed, legs hanging from him without strength to push yourself up. Johnny behind you, a foot on the ground and the other on the mattress as leverage to keep sinking into your weeping cunt.

Neither of you bothered to take off the clothes, simply lowered the pants enough for Johnny to get inside of you. Your pants pooling on your ankles, legs limp with the rhythm Johnny has settled.

Simon wishes he could see your face, pleasure painted on your expressions with your face buried on the mattress. Johnny keeps your hands on your back, keeping you pressed against the bed. But the only thing he can see is Johnny's back.

So he sees perfectly fine when the man turns his torso around, still thrusting into you, and looks at Simon.

He looks straight into Simon's eyes, who panic just for a second for getting caught peeking into their room, into them together.

But the Johnny smiles, not the adoration-filled smile he used to gift Simon with. Instead, is the smile filled with pride that he only kept for after winning a match or catching an enemy.

Johnny raises his hand to show him his middle finger.

As he mouths “Fuck you.”

And Simon wants to laugh.

Johnny wants to play?

Then they'll play.

Game's on.

@waiting-so-long

Taglist: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @risingofjupiter @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock @marymustdie @arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat @lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @cod-z @jaguarthecat @savagemickey03 @fraserbraw @rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @viisgrave @theloneshadow24 @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting @dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @mothymunson @archenillo @thesinsoflust @sodavrr @yuki2129 @mikaronn

[sageivy11]

feral street kitty hybrid!reader who’s been slinking up the fire escape and sneaking into ghoap’s apartment for food.. but they know. 18+

introduction: omg hiii 😻 so i was totally gonna abandon the first post but i already have like 5 other things in the works bc the brain worms haven’t stopped soo.. don’t expect anything tho bc im not very consistent. if i make another part there will probably be smut. 1.1k words, basically just a long drabble i decided to proofread a bit to post

contains/warnings: reader is homeless and eats fish, established ghoap, no mention of size or appearance expect for ‘underfed’, reader only has ears and a tail. no smut

edit: part two here

Maybe they’ve known for a while, Ghost once saw you skitter away down the ladder after being woken from a nightmare. He complains about it to Soap, scolding him for forgetting to lock the window, but he’d been doing it on purpose ever since he saw you in the alley behind their apartment, digging through trash and underfed. Hoping.

He convinces his LT to leave it unlocked and says that they can spare a piece of bread now and then. That you look so lost and sad, that’s the least they can do. You haven’t even stolen anything more than a few bites of left out food, he insists.

But you grow more confident, napping on their couch for a few hours during the night to keep warm, washing your face in their sink, licking their leftover plates clean. They pretend not to notice. Ghost, who used to sit on the couch and watch television when he couldn’t sleep, has switched to the chair in his office so as not to spook you.

Until one day you fish through the laundry bin in the bathroom, looking for a pair of socks that no one would notice missing. You’ve never stolen anything more than a bite or two of food from them but it’s getting colder. People lose socks all the time.

Your head snaps towards the door when you hear it creak open, seeing a pale, shirtless man with mussed hair pause in the doorway when he sees you. He grunts. You scramble, only grabbing a single sock in your process of shoving past him and bolting towards the window.

You don’t notice the way his eyes drift down your body to take in the healthy weight gained. He sighs, shaking his head and not bothering to close the door as he makes towards the toilet.

You don’t come back for a week and a half. Soap got worried on the fifth night, realizing you hadn’t stepped through the window in days. Your dirty fingerprints had been cleaned off the window on the second day and they hadn’t come back since.

But eventually, you get hungry. With how cold it is at night, you’ve been forced to spend less and less time searching through trash lest you freeze. You think about it for a few days, and decide there’s no point in not going back if you’re going freeze to death out here anyway.

You slip through the kitchen window on the eleventh day, shivering at the temperature change. You head straight for the fridge where they keep their leftovers, your shaky hand holding it open as your eyes quickly scan for something small to eat.

“There’s fish in the freezer. F’you want some.”

You nearly jolt out of your skin, the fridge door snapping shut as you suddenly whip around to find the location of the voice. You can feel the fur your tail puff up in fear as your back presses the cool doors. It’s the same man you saw that night. This time, he’s wearing a mask. And not a medical one.

The mask is black and embroidered with white skull markings. Or, more like grey skull markings. There’s dark brown stains on the fabric where the white is. Maybe the black, too. You can’t tell. It kind of looks like dried blood. No, it’s definitely just dirt.

Your ears are pricked, chest silently heaving as you stay frozen, staring at him. How did you not see him? Or hear him?

He looks like he just got home despite the fact it’s the middle of the night. It’s early, maybe three, or four in the morning. He’s still got shoes on. He holds a clear glass full of a gold liquid propped on his knee. There’s a duffle bag by his feet.

You just stand there, stuck in time for what feels like a week as you watch him. The only time he moves is to bring the glass up to his lips, pushing his mask up to the bridge of his nose to take a long sip. He would’ve moved by now if he wanted to hurt you. Right?

You swallow thickly, slowly turning to open the freezer. You look over your shoulder every few seconds, but he’s just sitting there, watching. Your eyes land on three saran-wrapped plates in the freezer. Huh. Maybe they had a guest over.

Two plates have various vegetables and sauces, while one looks plain. Just fish and something green that looks like a tiny tree. You grab it, closing the freezer and glancing at him for the millionth time. Still stayed the same. You slowly sink to sit on the kitchen floor, tail curling around the side of your leg protectively.

You watch him as you peel the wrap off, as you eat. He stares back. You pinch a cold piece of meat between your fingers, slowly bringing it up to your lips. And it’s fucking good. You don’t waste much time with your next few bites, try the little tree thing too. It’s not great, but it’s not horrible. You start wrapping the dish up again when you’re interrupted.

“It’s all f’you. Eat it.”

You pause, your eyes flicking back up to him. Your ears twitch. For you? Sounds like a trap. You should have a pretty good radar for danger. I mean, you live on the streets. You can feel your heart beat a little faster, but it tells you to continue. You waste no more time, greedily finishing the rest of the dish almost concerningly fast.

He watches and only adds more whiskey to his cup when it empties. You stand when you’re done, quietly placing the dish in the sink and discarding the wrap in the trash. You flinch when he abruptly stands, stepping closer towards your exit. His hands reach towards the bottom hem of his black hoodie, pulling it over his head.

You stay and watch, for some reason. Then he tosses it towards you, over the kitchen counter separating the two rooms. You startle, twitching back when the fabric falls to your feet. You look between him and the hoodie briefly, before crouching down to grab it.

Your footsteps are light and tentative as you step back towards the window, still watching him. You quickly slip out, practically running down the fire escape stairs until you’re back in the streets. Back in your little box hidden in the trash, with a few blankets to keep warm.

You replace your thin zip-up with his hoodie. You push the fabric of the collar up towards your nose when you slip it on, inhaling deeply. It smells like man. Like sweat and something coppery. Like burning firewood and grill char. Like it would be so easy to just slip into his bed and sleep into the late hours of the morning.

You sleep easier that night, even if it’s on cardboard and tattered blankets. And if you’re already wet when you slip your fingers between your thighs, it’s no one’s business but your own.

notes: i figured out how to do the ‘read more’ thing!! sorry my first post didn’t have that. again, written and edited on my phone. ty for the love btw 🫶 im trying to stay humble bc this is lowkey boosting my ego. tumblr tips appreciated.

tags??: @other-fandoms-reblogs hi 🙈 this is not related to my first post but i thought i would tag u anyway! if i ever post the other part in the works to my first post ill also tag u in that.

[konigsblog]

soap eating simon's girlfriend's ass whilst you ride and bounce on simon's wide, lengthy cock.

veins rubbing against your gummy walls and the wet, warm sensation of johnny's tongue against your sensitive clit, dragging his wet tongue up to your tight, little asshole, where he flicks and suckles at your slick hole. ;(

cryin' into simon's chest from overstimulation whilst he coddles you with a soothing tone. running his fingernails down your ass, gripping a firm grasp of your ass and spreading your ass cheeks apart so johnny can tease your hole with the tip of his tongue.

third wheel-johnny trying to intervene in simon's relationship??? :((

[mrsparrasblog]

POLY 141 when you get your period

Kyle: He tracks your period and reminds you of it days before so you're not surprised. He checks if everything is okay when you go outside—you know what I mean. He is very attentive and spoils you with whatever you want. Just please don't make fun of him again by sending him to the store to search for tampons with a glow-in-the-dark string. Pookie didn’t have it and might have argued with the sales associate.

Simon: He doesn't mind blood, seeing it enough at work. For him, it's just extra lube. He has sex with you everywhere to relieve your cramps. He buys you ice cream since he read on Google that it helps. He called you moody once. Big mistake—he was so happy that Price could distract you with his mouth. :)

John: He is a munch and stays a munch even during your period. He doesn’t mind it at all. He is seriously hurt that Johnny and Kyle call him clueless about the female anatomy. He isn’t; he gets everything. The boys should stop acting like he is an old man. He is only 38 and your big Teddy. You don't need a heating pad with him. Normally, you have an arranged cuddle puddle with all of them, but during your period, your whole body lays on John's, and the boys are jealous.

Johnny: He is the most normal out of all of them. He even scolded Price at the beginning of your relationship for asking if you had your period after you screamed at him and then cried because he ate your chocolate chip ice cream. He has lots of sisters, so he gets it. He knows the best ways to overcome period pain, better than Simon’s Google attempts. He gives stomach and back massages to ease the cramps and makes ginger tea. He is the one who buys the pads and tampons for you since the others failed.

[call-of-daydreams]

Soap: Truth or Dare?

Ghost: Truth

Soap: How many hours of sleep have you gotten in the past week?

Ghost: Dare

Soap: Go to sleep.

Ghost: I no longer enjoy this game

[bmtillerbabe]

~ Body Heat ~

A Reader x Ghoap fic!

------------------------------------------

Written for the amazing @onlyareyyyy ! Sorry it took forever, thank you for being so patient! :):)

Originally one of her posts, I decided to take it and run with it and turn it into a mini fic :D

"sharing a bed with Simon ghost riley and johnny soap mactavish. having a crush on ghost. being unable to sleep because all you can think of is your proximity to ghost and feeling his massive erection against your back. some sort of conversation or confession which results in ghost fucking you on your side which cause the reader to squirt and which wakes up johnny"

Hopefully, I did it justice! Please, enjoy! (and go follow @onlyareyyyy , she got the goods yo ;) )

-----------------------------------------------------

MDNI

18 + ONLY

MDNI

NSFW, and the smut be smuttin' - you've been warned!

-----------------------------------------------------

.

.

.

  A sharp crack of thunder made you jolt back awake, lifting your hands to cover your ears.

  It was raining.

  Again.

  With an aggravated sigh, you gripped the scratchy duvet and threw it over your shoulders, twisting it with a huff and flinging your body over to face the opposite direction.

  Fucking safe-houses. They were never comfortable.

  You tried your damndest to get back to sleep …. Closing your eyes, counting imaginary animals, hell, even trying to meditate. But it was no use.

  Your comfy spot was long gone; the mattress was now cold; the patter of the raindrops against the cracked windowpanes of the old safehouse was anything but calming right now; and the fear of another loud boom of thunder was enough to keep you wide awake.

  Growling to yourself, you tossed and turned again, blinking in the dark.

  Another lightning flash.

  More rain.

  More thunder.

  And somewhere amidst the constant torrential downpour – on top of being uncomfortable as shit – the power decided to go out.

  A flicker-flicker-flicker, and then …. Nothing.

  Great.

  The distant buzz and hum of the lights just outside your room was abruptly cut off, as was the little golden glow from underneath the door.

  You grumbled to yourself and sat upright, wiping your eyes and slumping your shoulders, staring into the darkness.

  Any other time, it would have made you eerily uncomfortable, and you’d have had half a mind to trudge through the blackness and find your two so-called “guardians” who were supposed to be keeping you safe from some so-called “threat”, and see if you could maybe pester them a little into keeping you company. But you never got the chance.

  As if the gods heard your silent plea, the heavy thudding of steel-toed boots was headed your way before your thought had even finished forming.

  Hmm. Maybe they really were taking this “guardian” thing seriously.

  With a flashlight in his hand, Ghost opened your door (without even knocking, the bastard), Soap following close behind.

  “You a’ight, luv?” The Brit asked, shining the sharp white light directly into your face.

  You scrunched your eyes shut, nodding as you held your hand up to ward away the sudden brightness. “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Aye, Ghost, yer gonna blind the poor lass.” Soap scoffed, batting Simon’s hand down.

  “I’m fine.” You answer verbally this time looking at them both, illuminated only by the stray flash of lightning and the flashlight that was now reflecting off the scratched wooden floor. “I was awake, anyway. I couldn’t get back to sleep.”

  Another burst of thunder rolled through the room and made you jump again, covering your ears.

  Jesus Christ, every one was like opening a can of biscuits …

  You watched as Soap walked over to the light switch on the wall, flipping it on and off a few times.

  “Aye.” He confirmed, “Wasn’t just our room, then. Looks like the whole house is without power.”

  Ghost sighed heavily, shaking his head. “In this cold? Great. Tha’s jus’ wonderful.”

  He wasn’t wrong. It was the dead of November, and even if the safe-house wasn’t full of leaky windows and cracked walls, it would have been hard to stay warm all night without any electricity. As it stood now, you were set to freeze.

  As if on cue, your whole body decided to shiver, and you clamped your jaw shut to keep your teeth from chattering.

  You weren’t sure if the men had heard you, but either way you pretended they didn’t when you heard Soap pat Ghost’s shoulder. He nodded for the larger man to follow him out into the hall, turning to you before he did.

  “Stay here, lass. We’ll be right back.”

  And the two left the room.

  You wrapped the blanket around yourself tighter, suddenly aware of the intense chill in the room biting at your nose, any heat that had been blowing through the vents quickly being dispersed through the battered house.

  Well.

  This was just great.

  Now what?

  You’d already been at this safe-house for days, and who knew how much longer you three had to wait for exfil. And now you had to go without power – and heat – on top of it?

  You tried to remain positive, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

  Boots thumping back towards your room caught your attention before you could sink any deeper into your head.

  “A’right, luv.” Ghost clears his throat as he enters the room with Soap in tow once more. You notice their hands are much, much fuller than they had been when they’d left.

  Were those …. Blankets?

  “S’been a change of plans.”

  Your throat went dry.

  He couldn’t possibly mean ….

  “We’re gonna be sharing the bunk wit’ya tonight.”

  Alright. Maybe he could.

  But perhaps it wasn’t really sinking in just yet, the situation not quite made clear, or maybe your brain was just sleep-deprived thanks to the last hectic week; but it wasn’t until Soap just casually sauntered over to your side of the bed and tossed down the armful of quilts and began promptly taking off his overshirt that it finally seemed to hit you in the head like a ton of bricks.

  Sharing the bunk … as in, sharing the bed?

  Your cheeks flush and you sputter out an incoherent strand of mumbles once your brain peels itself away from the shred of toned muscle of Soap’s chest revealed in the lightning flashes.

  “Wh-wh---h-huh?”

  “Good.” Ghost grunted as he, too, began to shed himself of the gear and over-layers of clothing. You heard the clinking of his belt buckle and felt your cheeks flush deeper – suddenly warm all over despite the cold, your mind bombarding you with delicious images of the muscled man undressing just in front of you.

  If only the darkness hadn’t kept you from seeing ...

  “Cuz, er …. ‘Ere’s been a change of plans.” Ghost spoke again in the dark, somewhere to your left now, a sudden weight making you jerk your head to see his shadow crawling into bed with you. You opened your mouth to try and speak again, but another weight on your opposite side made you shift your sights back when you felt Johnny crawling into bed as well.

  Was this seriously gonna happen ….?

  Ghost tossed his boots off somewhere in the room and grunted softly as he removed the rest of his gear. “Since the power wen’ out and we can’t guard ya proper … we’re gonna hafta sleep in ‘ere with you.” He said as trivial as if he were merely telling you about the weather, and not something as monumental as sharing a bed with two, fully grown, fully muscled, toned, beefy military men, sandwiched between them all night.

  If there had been any light in the room, they would have seen your jaw hit the floor.

  Of all the things you’d expected Ghost to suggest for tonight – this situation hadn’t been one of them.

  “W-what?” You finally stammer out again, a little clearer this time, finding your voice.   

  “Aye, we won’ try any funny business with ye, lass, but ye are the precious cargo in this mission. We cannae afford to let anyone get to ye.” Johnny said softly, his voice somehow even darker and sexier than normal in the shadows. “And since the power’s out, and we cannae hear ye over the monitors an’ such, there’s not much of a choice. If anythin’ happened to ye on our watch, Price’d have our heads.”

  “B-but---wait, we---I---” You stutter out, but Ghost abruptly cuts you off with a scoff.

  “Oh, come on, luv. Ain’t no sense in gettin’ all fussy about it. The power’s out and we’re jus’ doin’ our jobs. Ain’t neither of us takin’ no fer an answer. Now, scoot over.”

  Dumbfounded, all you could do was obey orders, and scootch closer to Johnny, accidentally bumping him as you did so. The King-sized bed suddenly felt way too small with these two buff-cakes taking up all the space. Ghost settled into the mattress next to you, his weight making it sink in just slightly, threatening to pull you into his orbit.  

  If the situation hadn’t been so absurd, you might have found it in you to laugh; at the reality that you were currently sitting between two of the biggest, hottest, most handsome men of the 141; and that you were now not only supposed to get sleep, but were supposed to remember how to breathe, too?

  Life was truly unfair.

  “You gonna lay down sometime tonight?” Ghost huffs, but before you can respond, his big, still-gloved hand is on your shoulder, pulling you backwards. You let out a gasp as you fall back onto the bed and hear another snort from the Lieutenant.

  “Fuckin’ hell, you’re a right ice-block, luv. Get your arse back here.” He says, gripping your arm and pulling your back flush against his chest as Johnny straightened out the layers of blankets, throwing them over the three of you in a small pile.

  Suddenly very, very aware of the wall of Ghost behind you, pressing up against the entirety of your body, you stiffen and squirm; trying to get comfortable – maybe even put a shred of distance between your bodies – but the man’s grip is iron-tight.

  “Oi, quit squirmin.’ Get snug and hold the fuck still.” He barks at you, and you immediately calm. Johnny finishes covering you all up and lays back down to face you.

  “Haven’ya ever had ta use body heat before, lass?” The Scotsman asks quietly, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Might not be the most comfortable of situations, but be better than freezin’ ta death, aye?”

  At his words, you feel Ghost’s grip around your waist tighten, and you manage to barely suppress a squeak when his huge palm is suddenly against your side, the intense head radiating off of him in waves.

  Jesus, was this man a walking heater?

  “I’ll take firs’ watch, Johnny.” Ghost grunts leaving no room for argument, and Soap nods, settling in and getting himself comfortable.

  “And you,” Ghost growls in your ear softly, leaning in so that you can feel the warmth of his breath through his balaclava, and pick up the faintest smell of Earl Gray – “Hold still, and get to sleep. Got it?”

  You nod quickly, trying to keep your breathing steady and calm your mind as much as you could. Trying and keep your mind off his huge, hulking form laying comfortably behind you; off his steady breathing and heartbeat that was soothing like a lullaby.

 Fuck.

  It was going to be a long night.

~ * ~

  Maybe hours had passed, maybe minutes. It was impossible to tell with the rain still pouring and the power still out.

  In the shadows, everything looked the same.

  You weren’t even sure if you had even really fallen asleep or not, but you knew at least some time had passed since Johnny had not only rolled over to face away from you but had begun to snore softly.

  Even Ghost, still situated easily behind you with his hand across your midsection seemed to be breathing at a slower rate – deep in his sleep.

  You sighed to yourself quietly, shifting your head on the pillow and blinking in the dark.

  Try as you may to chalk it up to the stress of the situation you were in, or even the unfamiliarity of your surroundings, you knew deep down the warmth settling in your core wasn’t from any of the excuses you tried to convince yourself of.

  You closed your eyes and listened to the rhythmic breathing of Ghost and Soap, humming quietly to yourself.

  Gods, since you’d first seen this man, you’d been smitten with him. I mean, how could you not? Those dark, piercing eyes, framed by the longest, prettiest, most blonde lashes you’d seen in your life; that gruff, British voice; the command and authority he exuded to everyone around him, leaving no room for doubt who’s in charge.

  And that body.

  Ugh.

  Don’t get me wrong, you’d caught yourself more than once eyeing up the Sargeant that currently slept across from you; fresh out of the showers, water still dripping down his scruffy beard; running his hands through his short, tawny-brown mohawk while he laughed at something; catching a stray smile. Fuck, he was just a treat to look at as Ghost was.

  Both of them had biceps that the gods themselves would be jealous of, broad toned chests, firm pecs poking through every shirt they wore as if their bodies were trying to shred the fabric to pieces in order to breathe.

  Both of them were hands down the most attractive men you’d seen in your entire life.

  But it was hard not to pick a favorite when one of them was literally wrapped around you, his scent invading your senses and stealing away your rest.

  His scent.

  Ghost’s scent.

  Cigarettes and Bourbon.

  You swallowed a soft moan as you inhaled deeply, your mind swimming with images of just licking the very smell off his skin, of tasting the salty tang of his body’s natural musk and sweat, wanting to drown yourself in it and never come back up for air.

  Fuck, he smelled amazing.

  And with an internal sigh, you realized your nose wasn’t the only thing enjoying the fragrance of the Lieutenant.

  Shifting your thighs, you realized your entire body was reacting to it …. Your pussy was reacting to it.

  Warm, wet, and nearly dripping already, you could feel your arousal pooling at your centre; your poor cunt aching and empty and eager for something to touch her, please her, fill her, and make her feel good.

  Ghost shifted behind you, grunting softly before breathing steadily once more.

  You held your breath until his movements stilled, suddenly afraid that he’d heard your inner thoughts, or that – fuck – he may have smelled you somehow. But when his breathing evened out once more, you breathed a sigh of relief and let your mind wander back to the dangerous territory you’d been pulled out of.

  And maybe it was wrong. No, not maybe – you knew it was wrong. You knew it was immoral, or bad, or whatever …. But damn, the temptation was there ….

  And what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him … right?

  After all, with the rate you were climbing this ladder, it wouldn’t take you long to get there …

  Heart aflutter with the naughty secrecy of your act and the thrill of being caught, you bit your bottom lip and ever so slightly shifted your arm out from under Ghost’s; snaking it down and around into your waistband. Into your panties.

  You kept your lip between your teeth, biting it softly to keep yourself quiet, moving slow as you could stand it, the heat from your core already reaching your fingertips as you slowly reached down.

  You hoped the torrential rain would help cover any sounds you might make.  

  With a small sigh, you pressed a finger to the slit of your entrance, pleased to find that the arousal was indeed seeping out of you, and you grinned to yourself, braving a finger inside.

  Your hips bucked softly, involuntarily, and you closed your eyes; your breathing quickening under your touch.

  This wouldn’t even take two –

  You gasped in shock when a large, thick wrist clamped down around your own, stilling your movements, and another hand flew to your mouth, nearly covering your entire face with its size.

  Your entire world froze and your heart stopped, eyes going wide.

  “Now … what do you think you’re doin’, luvie?” Ghost growls into your ear, his voice like gravel and sandpaper.

  The tone alone had you clamping your thighs shut and letting out a muffled moan of pleasure before you could stop yourself.

  Caught.

  Shit.

  You tried to muffle something to him as a response, possibly even as an excuse, but Ghost merely chuckled darkly in your ear; sending a wave of gooseflesh down your body.

  “Now, now – quiet down, there, luv. Wouldn’t wanna wake up ol’ Johnny boy, now, would ya?”

  With a shift of his hips, you nearly groaned when you felt the thick warmth of his erection pressed into your backside through his trousers.

  You closed your eyes, your mind and body sending mixed signals, unsure of what to do or how to proceed.

  Ghost didn’t have a shred of hesitation.

  “Now, if I was a bettin’ man,” he said, letting his hand go from your mouth to your neck, holding your chin high as he buried his face in your skin and inhaled.

  “I’d say you was turned on by this …. By me.”

  You gulped, trying not to grind against him, your heart hammering in your chest and his hand sliding down the wrist that was currently still in your panties, dancing dangerously close to your core.

  You felt him smirk against your jaw, giving you a nip.

  “Ain’t that right, luvie?”

  You released a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding through your nose, closing your eyes and squirming under his touch. You shake your head, trying to deny it, but he’s having none of that.

  His hand around your throat tightens and his voice drops to a grating growl.

  “Oh, come on, don’t play me for a fool. I’ve seen the way you look at me, at Johnny, at us. Seen the way you bite your lip when you think none of us are looking …” His hand delves deeper into your panties, and suddenly, without warning, his long, thick fingers are rubbing through your folds and causing you to gasp.

  “Heard those sweet little moans of yours as you pleasure yourself at night thinking no one can hear you ….” He continues, moving is hand in time with his seductive voice and dangerous words, palming your clit and spreading your slick through and around your entrance.

  Johnny snores loudly, and your breath hitches.

  “Heh. Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Ghost clicks his tongue in mock disapproval. “Now, now little birdie ….” he growled, one of his fingers circling your opening. You clenched, eager and desperate for him to just shove it in already …

  Fucking jack-off was taking his good ol’ easy time, and it was driving you up the wall.

  “If you want me to keep going, you’re gonna have to be very …. Very quiet.”

  You nod desperately against him, willing to agree to just about anything at this point.

  “Say it, luvie … I need to hear you say it …”

  “Yes.” You croak out on a broken whisper. “Please, Simon, please, just—”

  You don’t get the chance to finish, letting out a sharp squeak of pleasure when one of his fingers is suddenly shoved so far into you that you see stars.

  The hand on your neck moves quickly back to cover your mouth and he bites at your earlobe threateningly.

  “I said be fucking quiet.”

  You nod, breathing through your nose in quick short bursts; your pussy clenching needily around his greedy digit. You close your eyes in bliss when he slowly begins to pump it in and out of you, making a delicious slick, squelching noise; and you damn near come apart in his arms when he utters a soft, “Good girl.” Into your ear.

  His finger feels like heaven, and you weren’t sure it could have gotten any better until he slid a second one in and you thought you’d pass out from how good the stretch felt.

  He made quiet grunting noises behind you, brushing his stubbled, scarred jaw over yours, around the shell of your ear, the skin at the base of your neck. Your mouth fell open in a silent sob, tears springing to your eyes at just how good this felt. How good his fingers were splitting you open, brushing every little part of you that drove you crazy with lust.

  He added a third finger, the burn damn near addicting as he grunted into your ear and thrusted them in and out at a brutalizing pace.

  “Fuck, dovey … fuckin’ hell, you’re so fuckin’ tight … Bet this lil’ cunny’s never felt so good, ‘as she?”

  You swallowed a noise in the back of your throat, thrusting your hips in time with his hands to meet his fingers.

  Your eyes rolled into the back of your head in pleasure and you felt the familiar coil of heat build in the pit of your stomach, the tell-tale sign of an impending orgasm approaching.

  Fuck, it felt so good, and you fucking chased it.

  Bucking your hips back and onto his fingers, you whimpered softly as you ground your pussy into Simon’s hand; desperately chasing your high.

  His noises and grunts and growls in your ear were driving you higher and higher up the wall, and you were already so fucking close – but then his fingers are withdrawn and you’re left achingly empty, whining softly.

  “Simon …” You beg on a breathy whisper, but you pause when you feel the hand that was just inside you moments before reaching down to yank his trousers down; and feel his massive, thick cock spring free and smack against the curve of your ass.

  Your throat went completely dry.

  You tried to keep quiet, your eyes locked on the back of Johnny’s sleeping head as you felt Ghost fuck into his fist from behind you; the tip of his cock brushing against the small of your back with each thrust.

  “Tell me, luvie,” he growls against your ear, shifting on the bed so he can rub the tip through your weeping folds.

  The breath left your lungs.

  “You ever had a man this size? Eh?”

  You shake your head, trying to remember how to even speak, but he grips your neck again. Tight. Hard.

  “Answer me.”

  “No,” You gulp thickly, letting your mouth hang open on a pant.

  He chuckles darkly, and you feel him notch himself at the slit of your entrance.

  “Good. I always like to be a first.”

  And he shoves his cock into you without any further warning.

  You let out a soft cry, unable to help yourself as your walls clamp down around him; and then he’s thrusting into you, brushing against your g-spot with painful accuracy; his balls slapping against your flesh with each needy jerk of his hips, pushing his hard, thick length deeper and deeper into you.

  His hand continues to grip your neck, panting into your ear while his other hand slides down to palm at your lower stomach; pressing down where he feels himself stretching you from the inside out. He smiles against your skin, hungry and predatory.

  “Fuck, you’re taking my cock so well, doll … fuck, you’re so tight. So wet. So needy …. Look at you, all desperate for me and my cock. My cum. You want me to fill you up, doll? Fill this tight, little cunny up? Breed you so good and deep, you’ll be walking around leaking me for days? Eh?”

  You groaned at his filthy mouth, trying to stay quiet but failing miserably, nodding.

  He laughed under his breath at you.

  “Such a filthy fucking slut you are. Lettin’ me fuck you nice and hard while Johnny’s just layin’ there in front of you, unawares.”

  You felt your insides clench at his every word, your orgasm building like a tidal wave inside you.

  At this rate, you were going to cum faster than you’d ever remembered before.

  “Wonder if he’d like to join in on the fun?” Ghost grunted as he angled his hips to somehow thrust even deeper into you; the slick, wet, squelching sounds echoing up through the blanket and into the empty room.

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, you little whore? Have bo’f of us men, filling your holes at once, breeding you from both ends? I bet you would. I bet you’d be such a good fucking girl and swallow every last drop Johnny’d give ya, and then turn around and take another load right up this tight, fucking pussy---agh, fuck!” You feel his entire body clench and his thrusts grow choppy and quicker.

  You moaned, closing your eyes, reaching up to grip the back of his head and hold it down against you.

  Almost, you were almost fucking –

  “Oh, fuck, fuck babygirl, I’m---I’m so close---I’m---Fuck!” Simon grunted and with a final thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, cumming deep within your warm, gummy walls; sliding his hand down to pinch your clit as he did so.

  That little action was more than enough, and your orgasm ripped through you like a tornado – leaving a mess of a trail in its wake.

  Clenching tightly around Simon’s cock, you pulsed and twitched around his length – and also managed to squirt; something you’d never ever remembered being able to do before.

  “Fuuuuck….” Simon grunted in your ear, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts as he slowed down; his cock pulsing the last bit of seed deep into your compliant pussy.

  Moaning softly and panting into Simon’s hand, you slowly came down from your high; the world coming back into focus around you.

  But it isn’t the room that comes back into focus, nor is it the lightning flashes that dance across the walls.

  It’s Johnny’s bright blue crystal eyes; dark with lust and need, his hand on his cock and the front of his shirt drenched in … your squirt.

  You felt your soul leave your body and a bright blush rise to your cheeks in shame, but Johnny just chuckled.

  “Aye, I see you’re havin’ all the fun without me, eh?” He groans when he gives his cock a long, languid stroke; arching his back to meet his fist, his eyes locked on yours as Simon slowly began to thrust back into you again.

  “Think you’ve got another round left in ya, princess?”