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ceilidho · 3 months

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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 1; ghoap x reader)

Johnny’s been bragging about a pretty bird lately.

Ghost listens because the periods between missions are long and colourless—he fills the time with paperwork, PT, exhausting his muscles in the gym, and dissociating in a booth at the only good pub on base when Johnny drags him along—and it’s better to tune out the thoughts in his head and replace them with something else. Besides, for as much as he gripes about poorly trained dogs barking too much, he enjoys the sound of Johnny’s voice. It quiets the faint ringing that follows him wherever he goes, an agitated humming that leaves him, on his best days, on the brink of rage.

“Tinnitus,” a doctor says when he brings it up during a routine check-up. Can you shut that fucking noise up?

“Best we can do is get you hearing aids.” Apologetic, sincere even. Stained, as always though, by a trembling, noxious unease. It emanates off the doctor in waves.

Hard not to feel uneasy around a man in a mask, Ghost assumes. That’s all part of it though. He doesn’t cultivate comfort, doesn’t attempt to engender soft feelings or put the mind at ease. His body and persona are designed to put the body and mind on the knife’s edge of fear, and then tip it over. He leaves the sweet talking and charming to men like Johnny, who babbles red language in a tongue like larkspur.

Ghost’s first language is oil slick. It stains and it covers and it darkens everything it touches.

And now, Johnny’s talking about a bird.

A couple months after Las Almas, the first picture comes out. Not a folded up keepsake tucked away in the pocket of a bag or a wallet or the inside of his jacket, but right on Johnny’s lockscreen on his phone. He disapproves at first glance. Not of the girl, but at the thought of keeping something so valuable on display for anyone to see. It’s not how he functions. Everything sacred is burned, destroyed, or—if precious enough—buried so deep underground that salt miners might greet it on the way down.

“Pretty, eh?” Johnny goads, nudging Ghost with his shoulder. He’s all wide grin, eyes electric-blue like the flames of Kawah Ijen.

She is pretty. Pretty as pie. Not a speck of grit or blood on her; if there’s any edge to her at all, it’s tempered by her smile in the photo on Johnny’s phone. A sugar sweet cunt, by the looks of it, sure it’d taste like candy if he got his mouth on it. He angles his eyes with Johnny’s lips and wonders how many times he’s eaten her out, if hers was the last cunt he ate. Likely. His boy’s the loyal kind, hard to shake off once he’s got his teeth in. Swapping spit or blood, he doesn’t leave once he’s got a taste.

“Where’d you find her?” he asks instead of agreeing, and takes a swig from the bottle in front of him. The bar’s hardly filled out yet; the two of them come early because Ghost’s an old man—that’s what Johnny would say—and doesn’t like to be around people once the sun’s set. It’s a burnished gold now, sun hovering low in the sky when Ghost turns an eye to it.

“Florist. Met her when I picked up flowers for mam’s birthday.”

Nearly a month then. “And I’m just hearin’ about this now?”

Not in this same pub three times a week since then. Not on the tarmac, suited up and sweating already beneath two layers of gear. Not in the shower beside Ghost’s, fingers reaching over the side for a bar of soap because Johnny can’t be arsed to get his own. Not with his head slumped to let Ghost shave the sides of his head nice and neat, thick fingers splayed over the delicate bone of his skull that Ghost knows would take nothing to break.

It rankles him until he looks back down at the phone in his hands—the one he’d plucked from Johnny’s fingers even while he whined about Ghost always stealing his shit—and feels his heartbeat slow. It levels out like staring into the scope of a rifle, the molecules of his breath melding with the molecules of the air until even the sound of his heartbeat dulls to the insects around him.

Johnny purses his lips. “…Wasn’t sure then. Am now.”

“Cunt’s a cunt. What’s there to be sure about?”

“No.” Johnny shakes his head vehemently. “She’s no’ like that. She’s special—I’m telling ye, Lt—” he stresses when Ghost snorts, the sound thick with scepticism, “—she’s a good egg. Smart one. Sweet as pie.”

Sweet as pie. Mutt half-shares his thoughts these days. They must have brought more home than just shellshock and keloids.

Johnny squawks when Ghost unlocks his phone and thumbs through his photos, trying to wrench it out of Ghost’s hand to no avail. He’s easy to hold back. All he has to do is put down his beer for a second and get a handful of hair and jerk, and there it is. Peace and quiet. A wince bleeding into his peripheral vision while Johnny mumbles something under his breath about him being a mean bastard.

He snorts again. Even from Johnny, he’s heard worse.

There isn’t much left of him these days. A tired husk and a taste for Guinness. He bleeds and shaves and wipes it off, smells the viscera still staining his mask that he hardly ever washes, can’t bear to honestly. Waste of fucking time, as far as he’s concerned. Just going to get dirtied again, soaked in blood again within the week. Shaves his head too just to have less to deal with, less to distract him from the single-minded intensity he brings to the job. He’d dematerialize if he could, become a ghost in name and shape, if only the laws of physics allowed.

Instead he’s saddled with a body that echoes back his age in creaking joints and low back pain. Scar tissue that aches when it gets cold.

In the months he’s known Johnny, he’s never let himself think about the world outside their bubble. His rank demands a certain level of socialising, and while he doesn’t schmooze with the brass like other lieutenants might, Ghost hardly has the privilege of isolating himself all the time, but still he can count the people he considers close on one hand.

Not family, but close. The thought of family is sheathed within him; he knows to leave the knife in lest he bleed. Still, Johnny’s fought his way onto the list and now he has to pay with his pound of flesh.

There’s a switch that’s been off for years, closer to a couple decades, and it flips back on when he finds this man that trusts him without question, that follows his orders and looks up at him with these big, puppy blue eyes. It twists something in his chest. It turns him into a thing that says maybe it’s better to take than just covet.

There are other photos of the girl in Johnny’s phone, some likely not meant for present company (Johnny flushes red when Ghost flips to a picture of his bird in a pretty little number, lace cupping her tits and ass, sitting on Johnny’s bed back home and looking back at him over her shoulder with a little grin). Still, it interests him to see this side of his boy; he’s maybe thought of it before in abstract terms. He knows that Johnny’s no stranger to a wandering eye, not with the way he’s built and his pretty boy face. He’s well acquainted with Johnny’s dick, hard not to be in such close quarters; it’s a nice, pretty thing, just like him, a good handful. Nothing like the ruddy battering ram in between Ghost’s legs. The one Johnny once got a glimpse of in the showers after a two week long stint in Kyrgyzstan and paled, mouth gaping open while he stared until he could finally laugh it off.

Ghost remembers thinking detachedly about how lovely that little gaped open mouth would feel around his cock.

Surprising that it took this long for him to cotton on to his own desires.

“Bring ‘er around then. I’ll see for myself how sweet she is.”

Johnny scowls at the sudden uproar from a nearby table. “No’ a chance in hell. Dinnae trust any of these fuckers to behave around her.”

Ghost hums. He’s not wrong to be wary; under the table, Ghost runs a hand over his bulge and gives it a squeeze, lifting his thigh to readjust. She has a lovely mouth too.

He’s been breathing fire and brimstone recently. Hungering to hear something break. It takes Johnny’s hand on his arm to hold him back, every cigarette puffed down to the filter. The pictures on Johnny’s phone make it seem easy though.

Johnny’s been bragging about a pretty bird lately, preening at every opportunity to show her off. He doesn’t know that it takes approximately eight seconds for Ghost’s brain to file the girl in Johnny’s phone under mine, slotting her right under Johnny in that category and isn’t that just perfect because it also takes approximately eight seconds for Ghost to imagine what she might look like under Johnny.

He hands Johnny back the phone, face down. “You get one week. Then I wanna meet your bird.”

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost/soap/reader #ghoap x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #ghoap x you

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manticore-fangs · 3 months

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had this on my mind…

owner! simon x mutt! johnny x pup!reader.

cw: piss kink, non-con (?), (fake) knotting, mentions of being bred, cages?, petplay. | not proof read!

just.. simon forcing johnny to hold all of his piss in. the reward for doing that is dumping all of it inside of you, the cute little pup simon adopted from a shelter for his mutt. poor johnny being forced to hold his piss in, cock hard and pre-cum leaking out his tip.

little dribbles of pee come out his tip too :( poor boy can’t hold it in anymore, his bladder is so full with piss. he’s begging simon to dump his piss inside of you!!

when simon finally says too the mutt that he can ‘piss inside of you’? johnny is chasing you down with simon on his tail.

you were laying in the cage, on the puppy bed. you feel large thuds coming up the stairs, looking up with your fake ears, the bells on them ringing as you see johnny, panting and whining because piss is dribbling all over the carpet, he needs to reach your cunt fast!!

“wait- wait johnny!” you protest, trying to push him back but the mutt doesn’t stop. he needs to dump his piss inside of your or he’ll make a mess of the carpet, and simon will punish him for doing that, calling him a ‘disgusting mutt for not holding it in, need to train your bladder more!’

forced into doggystyle, your ass in the air with your panties shoved down your thighs, near your knees. johnny barely can keep himself back waiting for simon to say ‘piss in her.’

he plugs your cunny up with his cock, you face shoved in the soft, fluffy bed. you writhe and whine telling simon too ‘stop!’ and ‘t’much! i’m overstimulated simon, please!’ but he doesn’t budge.

piss spurts inside of your pussy, feeling it hit your deepest parts as you groan with your brows furrowed down and eyes clenched shut. the feeling you’ll never get rid of no matter how many times johnny pisses inside of you.

piss starts spurting out, his cock can’t keep it all plugged inside of you! all you here is soft ‘psst’s’ and lil droplets, johnny begins fucking you- doesn’t relent even if he keeps pissing inside you.

“is’ okay bonnie lass, lemme jus’ knock ye’ up. i’ll take care of ye pups and your swollen tummy. i’ll be a good fatha’ fer our kids. promise you tha’, just lemme knot yer pussy and plug it up with me’ babes.” his scottish accent heavy with arousal, he can’t help it! he’s obsessed with your pretty puppy pussy!

he thrusts in roughly, then out. piss spilling out and over his drenched cock onto the drenching bed. your messed up, you want him too stop but the talk about giving you babies fucked you up :( you just want your mutt’s kids! you start begging him too “give me your puppies! i’ll take care of ‘em, please please breed me. i’ll be a good puppy, promise. i want your babies!!”

your obviously not on the pills nor iud, johnny looks over at simon and he nods. “breed her good johnny.” and johnny did.

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inkbybambi · 2 months

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simon "ghost" riley/john "soap" mactavish/f!reader words: 4.2k warnings: mmf, threesome, fingering, anal fingering, finger sucking, riding, creampie, doggy style, pet names (kitten, bonnie, angel, etc), dirty talk, breeding kink notes: this was written as part of the valentine's exchange from @bunnyreaper ♡ this is a gift for @auspicioustidings ♡ this is my first time writing a threesome, but i loved every moment of it ♡ header image is coral charm peony ii by mia tarney

The light of the dying sun slowly drains from the horizon, hues of blues, pinks, and purples following in its wake. There’s a gentle breeze coming through the open windows of the cottage; a little haven tucked away for you and yours. A smile plays at your lips as a small cow-shaped timer trills from its perch on the kitchen counter. You slip on a pair of oven mitts decorated with highland cattle, taking out your shortbread from the oven lest it bake for even a moment too long.

Your boys were due to be home soon and this sweet treat was the last on your to-do list.

They had left you earlier that week with a messy amount of kisses pressed to your cheeks and forehead and lips and anywhere they could reach, really. You had similarly returned the favor, finding your favorite lipstick to press marks onto Simon’s mask and Johnny’s glove before pressing other faded marks elsewhere.

Before letting them cross the threshold back into the world — one that had tried to take them from you more times than you could count — you spritzed your favorite perfume on their wrists, sealing it with a kiss. The scent may fade with the mark, but they’ll know.

Your heart ached the moment they left and its felt more numb in the days since, waiting dormant for them to return, to let you breathe fully knowing they’re there, that they hadn’t been taken from you.

You inhale sharply to disperse your lingering worries. They’ve always, always come home to you. Today will be no different.

You leave the shortbread to cool on a rack as you gather your sugar and butter for the caramel next.

The one perk of solitude means the abundance of time you had to practice. Johnny isn’t necessarily known for his patience — not when it comes to you or Simon — and he would’ve been quite the distraction. You burnt enough caramel without him, thank you very much.

The soft, warm lights of the kitchen accompany you humming Simon’s favorite song, staring patiently at your pan as your sugar melts slowly, pulling you into a sugary-sweet trance.

You lose yourself to your very serious task of making sure your caramel doesn’t burn, the melody of the song lost in your throat as your humming softens, concentration on anything outside your little kitchen waning.

The click of the front door doesn’t phase you, and neither does the muffled thump of boots and bags. The sugar has started to dissolve and you can’t bear to lose your concentration now.

“Bonnie!”

You barely have time to register Johnny’s excited shout, head snapping up only moments before strong arms wrap around your waist, hauling you up to spin you in a hug.

“Johnny!” you laugh through your startled yelp, squirming in equal parts because you want to hug him properly and to get back to your caramel.

“Johnny, the caramel!” you exclaim when his grip on you only tightens, his face pressed between your shoulder blades.

“Ach, we dinnae caramel,” he says almost petulantly, voice lost against the fabric of your shirt. He does put you down — albeit reluctantly — but all you do is turn in his hold to lace your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer than before.

“Missed ye,” he says as a soft kiss is pressed to your temple and you bury further into the crook of his neck. You’ve missed his warmth, and his scent, and the comfort of him and being his.

You feel like you miss him all the time, but it’s the moments when they’re first back when you realize just how much, and the knot of worry slowly unfurls the longer you spend in his arms.

He cradles the nape of your neck gently and you can hear the angry bubbling of your sugar — too far gone now to save — but you wouldn’t be able to pull yourself away from him for even a moment.

“Where’s Si?” you ask against his skin when there’s a very distinct lack of your other half from the kitchen, craving his touch just as badly.

It’s not real until you’ve seen them both, until you’ve touched them both, to know that they aren’t the phantoms that will sometimes accompany your dreams, your memories.

“Think he went to the shower, hen,” comes Johnny’s soothing reply, pulling you back from your hiding spot to cradle your face in his hands.

You used to hate how small you felt with them; how it felt like you were an accessory to them rather than part of them.

Now you feel nothing but protected, cradled carefully in their hold, their own way of keeping you safe.

You pout, glancing over his shoulder, down the hall to where the bedroom lay, seeing the faint hint of light from the bathroom spilling out. Johnny’s calloused thumb rubs over your bottom lip, before he crowds in close enough to give you a soft kiss.

“Without us?” you ask, and he snorts in reply.

“Go on, then,” he says as he herds you towards the bedroom, a gentle pat to your ass to urge you along. “Go join ‘im.”

Your pout deepens, holding out your hand for him.

“Come with me,” you don’t whine, but you wiggle your fingers enticingly. You’ve been without them for so long, you don’t want to go another second without either of them.

You’re selfish in very few ways, but are unapologetically so when it comes to your boys.

Johnny steps into your space, a soft kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth, before nudging your cheek with his nose.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he promises with another lingering kiss, and you nuzzle into him momentarily before nodding and releasing his hold. Like a moth to a flame, you follow the path to the bedroom, seeing Simon’s clothes already tucked into the basket that’s specifically meant for their work clothes. Anything to separate who they are out there to who they are with you.

You shed your own clothes, placing them in the empty hamper before stepping into the bathroom, the tile cold on your feet.

He stands just beyond the glass, new scratches and bruises littering his skin. You’re going to kiss each and every one before you fall asleep tonight. You take a few moments to appreciate him; the broad expanse of his back, the slight layer of fat that surrounds his tummy, thick thighs that you love to bury yourself between, muscles moving like water.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” comes his teasing lilt as he turns to face you, a smirk plastered on his lips as he tilts his head in invitation. You bite your lip to hide your excitement, hurrying over to join him in the shower, taking his hand as he reaches for you, drawing you under the spray of the water.

“I have plenty of photos, actually,” you tease back. He tilts your chin up with a tattooed finger, leaning down to kiss you, before he moves to hold your throat delicately, keeping you in place. You inch up on your toes to press even closer, nipples pressed against his broad chest.

“Not nearly enough, love,” he replies, not giving you a moment to answer before he draws you back into his mouth, licking into you and swallowing your gasps. You hum and lean into him, lacing your arms around his shoulders. One of his large hands splays against the middle of your back, the other trailing down your spine to the curve of your ass, pulling you in close.

“Missed you,” you breathe out between kisses, as you cup his face to kiss him deeper, desperation thickening in your veins the longer you’re in his hold. “Missed you so much,” and your nails dig into his skin, adding a collection of your own marks to the others on his body.

A warm body at your back makes you shiver, pulling away from your kiss to lean your head back on his shoulder. Simon cradles the back of Johnny’s head, kissing him softly.

“You two need to clean up,” you murmur into Johnny’s jaw, lips grazing the stubble that’s been growing for a few days. It burns your lips, but you’re thankful for any reminder of them.

“But you’re so comfortable,” Johnny practically whines as he leans further into you, arms tight around your waist, thankful Simon was there to provide stability or else you absolutely would’ve lost balance.

“Johnny,” Simon admonishes gently, a bite to his ear in reprimand. Johnny squeezes your tummy tighter in reply, but turns to brush his nose gently over Simon’s.

You wriggle from his grip, a hand on each of their forearms for balance, pressing a kiss to the corner of Johnny’s mouth before pressing one to Simon’s.

“The quicker you get clean, the quicker you can join me on the bed,” is your parting words as you grab a fluffy towel from the rack, drying yourself before sauntering to the bedroom, diving into fresh sheets.

You hear the soft murmurs of their conversation curtained by the fall of the water, rolling onto your back and arching up as you stretch, feeling as the tension seeps from your body, relaxing further into the mattress.

“MacTavish!” comes Simon’s warning bark before a very excited, very wet Johnny launches himself into the bed at you, burrowing his face into your neck as you giggle, feeling the bubbles of body wash that he hadn’t bothered to rinse all the way off.

He peppers your throat and jaw with kisses, teeth scraping every now and then before he reaches your mouth for a breathless kiss, and you cradle his head gently, nails grazing along the nape of his neck, feeling how his shaved sides have grown just a little since they went away. You’re sure he’ll let you clean him up proper tomorrow, but you don’t want you or either of your boys to leave the bed for the foreseeable future.

“Simon’s grumpy,” he says against your cheek, and you can’t help but snort.

“Can’t possibly imagine why,” you tease in return, gripping a longer part of his mohawk and giving a harsh tug, hoping Simon brings an extra towel or two with him because the bed is damn near drenched — and not in the fun way.

“Absolute menace, that one,” Simon says as he comes from the bathroom, towel slung low on his hips showing the tantalizing line of his tummy that you love so much.

“Aye,” Johnny agrees with a cheeky smile, removing himself from you and sitting on his heels, settling himself over you to turn back and look at Simon. “But ye love me.”

Simon comes forward with a fresh towel in hand, motioning for Johnny so he can dry him off.

Simon doesn’t say anything in reply — he doesn’t have to, and both you and Johnny know that your declarations of love will never go unrequited — instead stopping at the edge of the bed and reaching for him.

“Be a good pup,” you say as you push him back with your foot, pressing him back into Simon’s hold so he can dry him off, ruffling his mohawk and wiping away the lingering drops that cling to his tanned skin, Johnny’s own marks and scars adorning his body. The intensity of the blue of his eyes feels like a shock of electricity, his gaze unwavering from yours as Simon tilts his head to the side to press a gentle kiss to his jaw, a soft I love you pressed to his skin. Simon’s lips graze over to his ear, murmuring something too low for you to hear.

Johnny turns enough to catch Simon’s mouth in a rough, dirty kiss, teeth nipping his bottom lip before a tap to his ass pushes him into motion, crawling his way over the bed back to you.

You arch up into his body as he slinks closer, a hand on your jaw pulling you into for a filthy kiss of your own. You whine against his mouth as Johnny pulls you up from where you lay on the bed, moving to take your place.

Johnny settles you over his hips, blue eyes sparkling in the lingering light of the bathroom, a fond smile painting his lips. As cute as he looks — and he looks adorable — the thick heat of his cock resting between your legs makes you ache, makes you want him to take what he wants. His nails dig into your calves as he anchors you against him, rocking his hips against yours, cock moving through your slick and catching on your clit.

“God, we missed ye,” Johnny sighs out as he digs his nails into your skin, and you bite your lip against the sting of his possession.

“Never heard the end of it,” Simon says as he comes around the side of the bed, one leg braced on the mattress, the towel parting enough to show his aching cock.

“Did you take good care of our pup?” you ask through a gasp as you turn to the blonde, eyes fluttering as Johnny’s cock catches at your entrance.

“Always, love,” he promises, Simon crowding in close as you pull his towel loose, blindly tossing it from the bed as he kneels on the bed at your side, swallowing your next gasp as he presses his lips to yours.

“Don’t like it when you leave,” you pout against his lips as he moves to kiss down your jaw and throat, trailing his lips over your shoulder. Your head tilts to the side, wanting his teeth in your skin.

“We’re here, darlin’,” Johnny soothes as a hand grazes up your side to grip your breast, thumb flicking over your nipple until it hardens under his touch. You lay above him, arms braced by his head as you catch him in a kiss, happily letting him take control as his tongue licks deep into your mouth. “We’re not going anywhere,” is his whispered promise and you just nod in agreement as you press your mouth back against his, unable to get enough of his touch, of his taste.

“Missed your cock,” you whimper with a sharp roll of your hips, Simon settling behind you, hands on your waist as his chin tucks over your shoulder, watching your slick soak Johnny’s cock.

“Gorgeous thing,” is Simon’s soft purr of praise, one of his hands slipping down the line of your tummy until he can press two fingers against your clit, his other hand grazing up to hold your throat, tilting your head back against his shoulder.

“Dreamed of your cunt, bonnie,” Johnny pants from beneath you, feeling his cock pulse with each of your thrusts. His fingers grip your hips tight, and Simon tuts at him from his perch over your shoulder.

“Don’t cum, pup,” and Johnny only whines in reply, nails biting into your skin. “Wanna see your cum spill from her pretty pussy.”

You’re breathless, need and want coursing through your blood, desperate for something more.

“Please,” you mewl as you try to paw for Johnny’s chest, but Simon’s hold on your throat keeps you in place.

One of Johnny’s hands grip you hard enough to lift you from his lap, his other fisting the root of his cock so he can guide you down onto him slowly, your pussy fluttering as you sink deeper in his lap until he’s completely sheathed.

“Fuck,” he bites out, and you feel the way his legs shake as he holds off his release. He looks gorgeous beneath you, head thrown back against the pillows, the line of his throat exposed and mournfully free of marks from either you or Simon.

“How’s she feel?” Simon asks, dipping his fingers lower to feel for himself where you and Johnny are connected.

“L-like a fuckin’ dream,” comes his panted reply.

“You wanna fuck ‘er?” he asks, like you aren’t even here.

You feel like you aren’t, lost in the pleasure of Johnny’s cock nestled deep inside you, stuffing you full. You don’t think Johnny is capable of words after a week without you and your touch, but soon he starts a slow grind of his hips up into you, the crown of his cock pressing against your cervix.

You cry out in pleasure as he continues the slow roll of his hips, fighting the urge to beg him to fuck you rough. This is for him just as much as it is for you.

Simon’s grip on your throat remains, thick fingers collaring you, keeping you safe. The two fingers he used to rub your clit, to feel where Johnny was plugged into you, grazes your lips. You willingly open your mouth, swallowing down his fingers as best you can with him behind you.

“Did you miss me too, darling?” he asks, though you can feel his smirk pressed against your skin, knowing you can only gurgle your answer around his fingers, spit spilling out from the corner of your mouth.

“I know, kitten,” he says with a kiss to your shoulder, pressing his fingers even deeper, causing you to choke, your throat working around his digits. “I missed you too.”

He withdraws his fingers as you gasp for breath, losing it the next second when Johnny snaps his hips up hard against you. His soaked fingers trail down your spine to your other hole, the tight ring of muscle fluttering as he circles it, just pressing the tips of his fingers against it.

“Johnny couldn’t stop talking about your ass,” Simon says against your skin. Your eyes flash to Johnny’s, glazed and dark, but his eyes are locked to Simon’s. “Told me how warm it is,” he continues, very carefully pressing one of his thick fingers against your rim as you beg yourself to relax. “How every single inch of you,” he says as he slowly begins to pump his finger deeper and deeper with each word, “is meant for us.”

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus, Simon,” comes Johnny’s choked moan, “she’s squeezin’ me so tight.”

Simon hums in reply as he continues his leisurely pace of fucking his finger into you. “Wonder what my cock would feel like in here,” he muses, continuing a line of kisses across your shoulders. He digs his teeth in deep into your shoulder, a shaky moan rising in your throat as he wiggles a second finger into the tight ring of muscle.

“T-too much,” you whine out, asshole fluttering desperately around his fingers. Johnny’s cock was bigger than Simon’s two fingers — but it had been well over a week since either of them had touched you there.

He stills as Johnny leans up to kiss along your collar and chest, tongue licking across your nipples.

“Give me a color, love,” he asks gently, the fingers around your throat loosening so it’s easier for you to breathe. Johnny’s soft pants ghost against your skin as he holds your waist gently, ever so patient with you.

“Bonnie?” comes Johnny’s soft prompting, laced with concern when you didn’t answer.

“Green,” you whisper out after another moment of pause, and Simon’s answering good girl makes you melt further into their touch.

Sweet, precious girl Johnny whispers against your collar, one arm laced around your waist as his other hand reaches for Simon’s hip.

You bite your lip as tears thicken your throat. Your head is muddy with pleasure and love for your two boys, not realizing how much you’ve missed them until now, their soft praise spoken against your skin, kisses and devotion pressed to each exposed inch that they can reach.

Simon carefully begins to thrust his fingers into you, sinking deeper each time until he’s able to curl and thrust without any resistance. Heat licks deep in your belly, broken moans catching in your throat with each expert thrust of his fingers.

You vaguely hear him ask Johnny for the lube, hearing the pop of the cap as he squirts a generous amount into his hand, coating his length before smearing whatever is left over your hole, empty now without his fingers.

He drags the tip of his cock over your hole, teasing the relaxed ring of muscle, watching as it looks like your hole is trying to draw him in, desperate.

“Think you can take me, love?” comes his question pressed against your cheek, and you lace one arm back around to hold the nape of his neck, a soft yes falling from your lips.

One thing you’ve learned from your boys is they always want to hear you. They love how vocal you are — Johnny especially — but hearing how badly you crave them, need them makes something primal in them snap, wanting to give you everything you beg for and more.

“Slowly now,” he says as he pushes the crown past your ring of muscle, and you swallow thickly, nails digging into any part of Johnny you can reach. Johnny does his best to distract you with soft praises as Simon slowly sinks into you, pausing halfway when he feels you trembling under his touch.

“Fuckin’ hell, darlin’,” he groans out, forehead resting on your shoulder.

“Feels good, don’t she, Si?”

Simon inhales sharply, raising his head enough to pull Johnny in for a kiss as your nails scratch at the base of Simon’s neck, leaning back against him as you watch your boys indulge in each other.

“Incredible, just like you said,” he agrees with one more kiss, teeth nipping sharply at Johnny’s bottom lip.

Johnny leans back down against the sheets, pulling you forward. Simon follows carefully, allowing Johnny to adjust your hips so it’s easier for him to sink the rest of the way into your hole.

“Angel of our lives, ah swear,” Johnny says as he begins to carefully thrust up into you, knocking the wind from your lungs when his sharp thrust catches that squishy spot deep inside you that makes you keen and clench around them, Simon’s moan reverberating against your back.

Simon carefully ruts into you, timing himself with Johnny’s thrusts, until you can’t think of anything more than the heat coursing through you, sparking and igniting like a wildfire.

You can’t think of anything other than their names, but after a few minutes, Simon braces one of his feet on the bed so he can thrust in harder, rougher, and your voice cracks with how hard you cry out, lost to the pleasure.

“Wanna stuff you full,” Johnny babbles beneath you, his thick thumb moving down to rub your clit, touch electric and causing you to moan and shudder in his hold. “Watch our cum drip from you until you’re full of our babe.”

Simon’s free hand settles over your tummy, thumb stroking in surprising gentleness compared to the absolute filthy mess they’re making of you.

“You want that, lovie?” Simon asks from behind you, his question punctuated with a sharp thrust, the obscene sound of his balls slapping against your ass accompanying the sounds of Johnny’s cock drenched in your slick.

You’re helpless and reduced to nodding and whimpering, clenching hard around them as you whine out about giving them a baby.

“Christ, love,” Johnny grits out before he’s spilling deep inside you, thick ropes of cum painting your insides. He grips the nape of your neck to bring you in for a kiss, a mixture of panting his moans against your mouth and swallowing your own.

Simon’s fingers are back on your clit, your nub hard and sensitive, sensitive to his touch.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you pant out as you reach your peak, Simon buried deep inside you as his grinds, cock pressed deep inside you.

Johnny’s cock pulses with your orgasm, walls fluttering and spilling your release over him, the force of it causing his cum to spill out from where Johnny’s still plugged deep.

“Atta girl,” Simon snarls as he buries his teeth in your shoulder with his own release, your eyes rolling back as you feel each thick pulse of his cum. He growls as he minutely thrusts into you, his own cum spilling from where his cock is nestled in your ass, making a mess of Johnny beneath you two.

Simon draws his teeth from your shoulder, soothing over the wound with his tongue as it pulses with your heartbeat. Soft kisses are placed along the line of your shoulders and close to your throat as you settle into their touch.

He gently draws you to him, pressing a significantly softer kiss to your lips as your breathing evens out. You press your forehead to his to bask in his warmth, his nose pressed to your cheek as his nuzzles into your skin before carefully pulling out, his cum slipping from your hole. He helps keep you in place for Johnny to pull out as well, before Johnny is gathering you into his arms, cradling you against his chest and running his fingers delicately along the line of your back.

You hate how empty you feel without them, but they’re right there, close enough for you to touch, for you to know they’re here with you, home, finally.

You nuzzle into Johnny’s hold, already the edges of sleep drawing you deep. Simon settles behind you, a thick arm around your waist, anchoring you to him, to them. You murmur something about ruined caramel, but the press of their lips across your cheeks and forehead are all you need, finally allowing you to rest in the comfort of their arms.

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miwsolovely · 20 days

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dad!ghoap au | ghoap x fem!reader

sun burnt eyes and bunnies

tw: ( mentions of ) nightmares

a/n: simon is so whipped here um… ( unedited )

Teddy woke them up before their alarm did.

“Da, Da! Wake up, wake up!”

The body pressed into his front let out a grunt. Meanwhile the tiny body jumping on their bed was stepping on their legs.

The sun barely showed itself above the horizon and their daughter was up before them and full of energy. Johnny would say that she got the early bird genes from him. Simon would counter saying she inherited his golden retriever attitude.

With groggy eves and slow, sleep ridden movements Johnny sat upright against the headboard and pulled their daughter in his arms with a smile. "Whit's keepin' ye up at this time hm, leannan?"

Simon shifted to his side and drank in the sight of his lover and his daughter speaking in hushed whispers, trying to be discreet and quiet while occasionally looking at him and giggling. He loved his daughter with his whole heart. From her dark black hair to her bright blue eyes, he loved her.

He loved Johnny with his entire soul as well as his heart, he'd always find a way to fight his way in anyways. Johnny always liked to brag to everyone he'd meet that Simon was his rock, his fortress, but Simon didn’t feel much like a rock with how he felt like he would tumble and break if anything could happen to his family. He felt less like an imposing fortress and more like a ball of tumble weed with how he felt his walls break and tumble when his daughter came crying to him with a scrapped knee.

His heart was so fragile and seemed to be on the verge of breaking. But when nights were bad and he'd wake up with sweat making his clothes cling to him, suffocating him and making him choke on his own breath, Johnny would be there. Johnny would be his rock, making sure Teddy was still asleep and making sure he was changed into clean clothes. Johnny was his fortress, making sure the monsters of his eternal night were far away from him, making sure they wouldn't be able to taint their house, their family.

He loved them so much. He loved the way Teddy tickled her way out of Johnny's grasp and crawled his way towards him, and he loved her big cerulean blue eyes that only gazed at him with wonder and love.

Her face made home on his warm chest, her small hands grabbing at his large ones, playing with his fingers. "What's wrong Dada?"

Simon smiled and rested his free palm on her head, playing with her soft curls. "Nothin" my darlin' Teddy. Just love you." He placed a kiss on her forehead and laughed as she giggled.

"I love you more!" She exclaims. Suddenly sitting on her knees and spreading her arms as wide as she can. "Love you an' Da this much!"

The weight of the bed shifting more to Simon's side made him aware of Johnny leaning towards Teddy and lifting her up, gaining a squeal of joy from her tiny lips.

"Oh yeah? Let's show yer Dad how much ye love in then, eh?" He smiles. "How's breakfast in bed sound Si?”

Simon smiled a toothy smile and met Johnny halfway to meet his lips in a kiss. "Sounds like heaven.”

Johnny already felt his body shivering when he stepped outside.

Though he has a long sleeved shirt on with long pants, his thighs pressed against the fabric and his biceps were so prominently outlined with this shirt that it felt like he was walking outside bare naked; the clothing doing nothing for warmth he would’ve felt the same unforgiving chill if he was naked.

Johnny scratched his hair, his mohawk in need of a trim, he’d make sure to ask Simon to cut it for him. That or he’d just grow it out.

He let out a yawn, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. Even with the barrier, he watched his breath escape him as a white cloud, vanishing into the air.

Reaching his mailbox, he smiled fondly at the pink hands of Teddy that greeted him.

‘RILEY HOUSE’ was written in a mix of yellow and green paint, three sets of hands in three different colors painted on the once white box.

‘SIMON’ , ‘JOHNNY’ , and ‘TEDDY’

Simon’s badge was written in black, blue for himself, and Teddy’s name was written in pink. Their hands forever painted on the mailbox below their names.

Johnny patted the mailbox with a fond look in his eye. He remembered Simon complaining about how the paint wouldn’t come off his hands. How Teddy ran around the house and stuck her tiny hands to the wall separating the kitchen from the living room and how Johnny smiled at her with love even though he knew the paint would never come off.

He loves his family. His Riley’s.

Johnny opened the mailbox and took the mail out, walking back to the front door with his eyes reading the mail and his hips jutting out with every step.

Bills, scam, scam, letter from his Ma he’d read once inside, bills, scam, clearance sale coming up, and a letter addressed to Simon.

Johnny’s thick brows met when he reached the last paper in the stack. A letter for Simon? He rarely gets any letters.

Pushing his worries aside, Johnny was near his door when he heard the opening and closing of another.

He looked to the house on his left and out came you. His neighbor that he never met. His neighbor that always seemed to wake up earlier than him and Simon.

Johnny stood pin straight on his porch, mail in one hand and the front doorknob in the other.

You were speed walking to your mailbox, your hair was out and the breeze was getting it in your face, your robe was flowing in the wind doing absolutely nothing to protect your soft skin from the chilly air and all the while, revealing the oversized shirt you were wearing.

If Johnny was a bad man, if he looked hard enough, he could see the little pebbles of your nipples and the form of your breast outlined by your shirt. But he wasn’t a bad man.

He was a good man, a respectable man. So he only saw the was your pants squeezed your thighs just as his own did his.

Though that didn’t seem any better, did it.

Distracted by the cup of coffee in your hands and the person you were calling on your phone, at the same time turning your phone over to your face every couple of seconds, likely checking the time and hoping it was earlier than 6:47 in the morning, you didn’t notice that you were almost in the middle of the street. You didn’t notice the car speeding.

You certainly didn’t notice Johnny dropping his mail, running towards you and scooping you up by your waist, placing you on the sidewalk in front of your house. Your hero.

The sun burnt his eyes. It was too early to be here. If he came later though, it would’ve been too late.

He heaved out a deep sigh and ran a calloused hand through his blond hair, wincing at the feeling of his fingers catching tiny knots and tugging at his scalp.

There were a dozen or so cars parked near the front of the school, parents eagerly waiting for their children to walk out of the big doors and into their arms. Parents who couldn’t stop gawking at him.

He’s not here to meet the stares of the married parents trying to lean on his car discreetly, he’s here for one thing and one thing only: his daughter.

But he can’t not stop thinking about the way the sun’s rays pierced his eyes and made him wish he was blind.

So, here he was, wishing he was deaf instead with how loud the end of school bell screamed in his ears, and wishing he had the eyes of a hawk so he could look at and wait for the beautiful elementary teacher to walk towards him with his daughter grasping her hand.

When you did come out, Simon realized why your name always fell from Johnny’s lips.

It’s might be the dress. Might be the sun. It might just be you.

But the way your dress curves with your hips, forms with your thighs, your glowing skin kissed by the sun. You’re vibrant in the fabric, big eyes shining so bright it makes his knees buckle and he feels his breath catching in his throat. He can’t look away.

You’re a dove, perfect and pure, kind and naive, skin so soft he would feel like the softest of feathers were blessing his skin with kisses.

If he got close enough. If you’d grace him with the air you blew his way with a flap of your feathers. If.

You finished guiding the children to their parents, bidding them farewell with a wave accompanied by a delicate smile that made your eyes scrunch and cute footprints that reminded Simon of crows appear on the corners of your eyes.

Simon stood up straighter when you approached him with his daughter skipping and giggling without a care in the world. He felt his lips tug on his cheeks.

Teddy was looking side to side trying to find the tall man that was her father, when she met his eyes, Simon felt his smile match hers. Fun of life and love.

Teddy let go of your hand and almost broke into a full sprint, almost because your palm on her little stomach stopped her from doing so. You bent down a bit to match her height and reminded her about looking both ways before crossing the street.

Teddy smiled up at you and grabbed your hand once more, sticking her head to see the road better and seeing her head both right and left making her pigtails sway with the movement.

You patted her head with your free hand and now that you were a few feet away from him, Simon could hear your sweet voice.

“Good job Teddy! Always remember now, okay?” You smiled at his daughter with such, care, it made his heart squeeze.

“Mhm!” Teddy answered. She looked at Simon and a gasp escaped her lips as she let go of your hand and ran into his arms.

Simon smiled and squatted down to match her height, picking her up by her armpits and twirling her around in the air.

“There’s my girl,” He said, propping her on his hip and kissing the crown of her head.

You were just about to leave, midway into turning around and going back into there school into your classroom. But Simon wanted to actually see you up close. He wanted to drink you in and get drunk on your sweet nectar.

Teddy giggled, he’d never get enough of that, and she pointed at her teacher, at you. “Look, look she’s my teacher Daddy, isn’t she pretty?”

You turned around and paused, looking at Teddy in surprise. As if you haven’t heard a compliment like that before. As if you hadn’t heard a compliment done right, a compliment said by the right mouth.

Simon has the right mouth. He can shower you in compliments right and pure if he tried his hardest. If you gave him and Johnny a chance to.

“You’re right, love,” He says, looking at you with flowers blossoming through his eyes. You with the bright and lovely skin, you with those perfect lips he wished to kiss. “She’s beautiful.”

The way your eyes widened, Simon could tell your cheeks were warm, your ears burning.

“I—” You paused. Seemingly deciding your next words carefully with a hesitance that resembled one of a bunny. Meek and lovely.

Simon could see in your eyes that you were debating on how to answer, how to speak after what he and his daughter just said. You looked so confused and cute Simon couldn’t help the slow smile spreading across his face.

“Thank you, Mr. Riley,” You said softly. A shy thing you were. “That’s very kind of you.”

Simon thought your voice was heaven.

He would’ve kept taking to you, kept you tucked in his chest right next to Johnny in his heart. But he forgot he’s not alone.

He’s in the burning parking lot with parents pretending to look anywhere but him and the lovely teacher, trying not to eavesdrop and likely spread gossip that would stem from the lines of “why not come to my place-” or “i missed you, let’s do this again-”

However, Simon wouldn’t think those words would be such a bad idea to spread. You were a lovely woman who deserved men to cherish and flaunt you. Simon and Johnny could do that job.

Johnny already does with how much he boasts about how amazing his daughter’s teacher is.

Teddy’s stomach started to rumble. Hungry clawing and cramping her poor stomach.

“Hungry, love?” Simon asks her, tilting his head down to look at her tucked into his neck. Teddy blinks up at him with tired laced eyes and nods softly.

“Let’s get you home to eat then, hm?” He assures, giving her a small smile and patting her head back into his neck for rest.

“It was nice meeting you, Mr. Riley.” You say, and the breeze answers you with a cold wind that erupts your arms in goosebumps, making you shiver. Making Simon wish he brought a jacket to drape over your shoulders.

“Nice meetin’ you too, dove.” He nods his head at you and leaves you with a warm smile.

His heart pounds.

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms !

- likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated <3 !!

©miwsolovely

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1wh4re1 · 5 months

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Okay so more Ghoap x F!Reader. Just a blurb. Also, these will definitely be in whatever order inspiration strikes me first.

You're covered in sweat, tendrils of hair sticking to your face and you swear you swear you can still feel your left side despite the epidural. You've been at this for what feels like days despite it being less than 10 hours.

This wasn't how you imagined the birth of your baby. One partner whose remains had drifted over that beautiful cliffside and the other god knows where who chose to walk away from you. Still, you are grateful for the man holding your hand beside you now.

John Price never imagined he'd be in this situation. Your hand gripping his (quite painfully god your grip is strong), and him wiping away your sweat and tears. He knows he isn't the man who should be here and he knows that he shouldn't have sent Simon to chase a lead so close to your due date even though the man doesn't even know you're pregnant at all.

He watches you flush, tears leaking from your eyes through another round of pushing, and thinks he is quite possibly the biggest bastard on earth for keeping this secret for you.

You're exhausted. Worn out. Dead beat tired. The doctor between your legs encourages you. Only a few more pushes she says and you're almost there. You sob, heaving breaths as more tears stream down your face. Squeezing Price's hand you start to push again, praying that this is the end.

The relief of hearing your baby cry for the first time is overshadowed by the blood rushing through your ears and the wooziness you feel. You can't make out what the doctors are saying.

"What...what are they saying," you slur, tongue feeling heavier than lead in your mouth as you roll your head over to look at Price. "Where's my baby, why can't I see my baby?"

Price tries to reassure you but the room is erupting into chaos around him. The monitors attached to you start to wail.

"BP is dropping."

"She's hemorrhaging."

"We need an OR stat. Page them and tell them we are on the way."

"Sir, we need to move her please go to the waiting room."

The last thing you feel is Price's hand leaving yours before you slip under into a cool abyss.

@thefictionalgemini @ghostslittlegf @oniiloma @astro-ghoul99

#I still dont know what to name this series #no beta we die like men #im sorry if this is bad #im a first time writer #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #captain john price is a gift and will support his team always #ghoap x female reader #ghoap x you #constructive feedback is totally welcome #my stuff

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aforestescape · 15 days

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simon ‘ghost’ riley and johnny ‘soap’ mctavish x reader - adorable. now give them both a boyfriend

content includes: i want two boyfriends and i want the boyfriends to be boyfriends. male!reader or gn!reader; ‘boyfriend’ used for reader but no defined pronouns, eludes to sex

i was rambling with some online friends earlier about how great it’d be to have two bfs

more of them here.

beds: double cuddles. being the middle spoon is the best until it’s not…

in the beginning of your relationship napping and sleeping together is a bit awkward. not because you aren’t all comfortable with each other at this point; it’s the fact that none of you have a bed truly big enough to fit the three of you comfortably.

johnny is a clingy sleeper. large body seeking out whoever’s limbs are closest and koala-ing onto them. simon on the other hand prefers to spread out and seems to hate the feeling of covers or blankets over him. he sleeps naked most of the time and will kick all the covers off in his sleep. it’s not uncommon to find yourself waking between slumber and having to try and drag the blankets back over yourself. only to find your arm and/or leg stuck in johnnys hold that strengthens with your movement.

and they’re both just large. beefy and hairy men, taking up all the space on the bed. summer nights being the worst, even with the air con set to a staggering 16 degrees celsius. all that muscled mass and body fat, sticky skin and ticklish hair. growing boners pressed against tight skin, you can hardly get a well rested night.

no matter your size it’s never not a mess of limbs to untangle from come morning. only the fact that it’s them making you put up with the less than great sleeping arrangement.

but those are just the days you decide to sleep together in bed. of course there are nights when one of you decides to stay in your respective flat. or even rarer nights when you all manage to sleep on your own, nobody to share space with.

needless to say, when you all finally move in together you spend a good amount of money on a bed large enough for the three of you.

two times the love

one thing to be said about having two partners, you had double the chances for a person to put up with your jokes and attitude. after a particularly hard day at work, having to deal with your coworkers who were always a bit too nosey. somehow never understanding that you don’t owe them an introspective look into your life. especially your love life that they were keen on working out after they realized you were dating two attractive and well fit men.

coming into your home, grumbling as the door slams a little harder than normal behind you.

you let out a sigh of relief as you spend the rest of your night in the comfort of their bodies. simon letting you nuzzle your head into the heft of his arm. johnny running the palm of his hand over your head in a soothing manner, mumbling sweet words to you in his thick accent.

coming home to cuddle with them, play games, cook dinner together. your own little bubble in the world that made you feel safe. you were safe, they’d protect you even when you don’t need it.

“i’m glad we can all be gay together,” you say jokingly, voice muffled against simon’s arm.

———

another night spent in your kit, leaned against the counter with a cooler in your hands. johnny sitting on top of the island across from you and simon stood next to his spread legs. you watch fondly as you all chat, simons fingers splayed over johns thigh. squeezing in an absentminded gesture, stimming more than anything.

nowadays it was rare for you all to see each other at the same time. even though you’d finally all saved and scrapped change to move in together, a nice little house with a decent amount of land. enough space for a garden that you’d brought up wanting to start. how rewarding it’d feel to cook for each other with the foods you grew.

but a new place meant a shift in routines, having to grow around and between each other’s schedules. especially being in a relationship with multiple people, you’d learned how to work a calendar as best you could.

so you took the time to enjoy this. just you and your boys, drinking and filling your home with a new warmth that’d you’d already grown used to. easily recognized as the same warmth that squeezed in time with your heartbeat. you were pulled from your thoughts as your boyfriend laughed uproariously. simon giving johnny a warning tap on his leg.

“aye- im only teasin’ love.”

you watch simon roll his brown eyes before cutting over to you. “and what do you think of this? says everyone can use two more boyfriends.” simons voice is dry but you can tell he’s amused or maybe it’s the infectious laugh johnny had.

“hmm. two more men, that means john and kyle right? i think we’d need a bigger bed than the one we have now but i’m more than happy to share you idiots with them.”

falling into domestics

onto the topic of beds again. you’d already agreed it’d be an important investment. you spent a few days wondering if you should splurge upwards ten thousand for an alaskan king. a hefty price but it could be worth it.

that is until johnny brings up the fact that you can just make your own for cheaper. says he’d seen it online and it was a simpler and cheaper solution to your problem. with that out of the way you ordered two full sizes and a few different bed sets. you all ended up spending the most time on trying to find a bed frame than anything else.

coming home one day from running errands to find simon in the yard. rented table saw connected by an extension cord running to the house and a decent sized pile up of wood. some pieces already cut down the size and shape. you didn’t question him, not wanting to interrupt his process until later in the evening when you were having dinner.

when he gruffed out that he was making you a bed you were surprised. sharing a glance with johnny and then looking back at simon. biting your bottom lip as you’re struck with just how fucking hot that was. your boyfriend spending days in the hot sun to make a bed just for you to break in together.

simon agreed it was reward enough as you and johnny spent the first night in your new bed worshipping his body. hours of attention to his freckled and scarred skin. kissing, biting, and licking stripes up taut skin that had simons head tossed back into your pillows. whispering words of praise and love in his ears as you made love to him into the early morning hours.

delegating dates: i want my boyfriend to have a boyfriend and i want for them to go on boyfriend dates

you look up from behind your desktop monitor, watching as johnny ruffles his hand through his mohawk. he’d been growing out the hair, letting it shag down to the nape of his neck. you’d spent many hours running your fingers through the thick strands. pulling on his hair to bring him to your level for a kiss was quickly becoming a favorite activity of yours.

you watched in amusement as he spent minutes of time fiddling with his hair. somehow even after dating so long he still gets nervous to go on dates. it’s incredibly sweet, a sentiment you share with simon. as he runs product through his hair to get it managed you let your eyes drift over his body. your gaze darkening slightly at just how delicious your boyfriend looks.

you wish to yourself that you weren’t behind in your work pace so that you could enjoy just how good your partners looked tonight.

watching as simon has enough of johnny’s taking too long, stalking over to wrap his big arms over the smaller man’s waist. you watch quietly as simon leans his head down to mumble something in his ear, taking note of the shiver that runs over johns body.

you can feel your breath steal away just watching them love each other. so soft with one another, obvious affection for your eyes only to truly witness and understand. sometimes you’re really struck by how much you adore them. how utterly lucky you feel to be able to love them and in turn how they love you.

biting your lip, you slip your phone from your desk to take shots of them.

one of simons blonde head obscured into johnnys neck. johnnys pretty pink lips parted on a breath as he tilts his neck for him. another with johnnys pouted lips spreading into a grin. another click and they’re kissing, lips moving slowly with practiced effort.

it was truly like beholding art. some sort of feat and testament of the universes power to bring such gorgeous men together. to let them love one another in ways that simon and you could only ever grow up craving. a love that johnny so readily gave to you, a love he knew instantly upon meeting would be reserved for you two alone.

special edition: shared custody

before you move in together, riley is practically a child of divorce, the poor sweet pup. he’s simons biological child of course, but now you and johnny are his stepdads. so he’ll spend days between your flats. at first he’s not a big fan of all the traveling. but as soon as he realizes the long drives mean new places to explore he quickly perked up.

now he looks forward to weekends at yours or johnnys. a different path to take, somehow something’s always just a little different for him to be bound with energy on walks. and your place is near a pets store. if he wasn’t a better behaved pup, he’d try dragging you to the door everytime you get close to it. but since he is a good boy instead he’ll give you the saddest eyes. nosing your pants leg to get your attention as if you would skip getting him a treat.

okay but we had such a good and silly conversation about what we’d do with two partners and😭 i have so many more thoughts. also i’m a pet play ghoap truther👆🏽so if/when i write more for this expect it

#ghoap x reader #ghoap x male reader #simon riley x male reader #johnny mctavish x male reader #cod x male reader #ghoap x you #aforestescape

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shotmrmiller · 1 month

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being a surrogate for ghoap neighbors but they insist on doing it naturally because it'd be easier + they're both virile men.

they'll pay you, ofc. keep you clothed, fed, whatever you want. can even slip in their bed when your hormones have you practically dripping slick.

they've got 9 mos to make you theirs, and if not, well.

ghoap has always wanted a soccer team sized family.

#ghoap x you #ghoap x reader

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milf-murdock · 3 months

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Unsteady (Simon x Johnny x Reader)

Request: Simon and Johnny taking care of F!Reader

Summary: Simon and Johnny take care of you after you almost pass out at the pub.

TW: heavily implied disordered eating, almost passing out, mental health concerns, medication mentions (nothing specific but could be read as ADHD medication side effects).

A/N: Hi anon! Thank you so much for your request and your kind words! I'm choosing not to publish the ask because I think there are some triggering words that I won't be able to hide under a "read more" line, but I hope that you enjoy this and find some comfort in it.

As someone who has also struggled with EDs in the past, please, please, please do not be afraid to ask for help. There is nothing glamorous about eating disorders. They absolutely need to be taken seriously.

Instead of going the full ED route with this one shot, I took it down a slightly softer path and based it off of my experience with ADHD and how it has led to me accidentally missing meals.

The din of the pub faded into the background as you sat in the corner booth of your favorite pub. You were pressed up against Simon’s bulky frame, one of his strong arms wrapped around your body, keeping you tucked in close. Johnny sat across the booth, taking in his favorite view: you wrapped up in Simon—his two loves, his whole world sat right across the table from him.

Your empty glass clinked against the others as your set it on the table. “Looks like we’re ready for another round,” you said, smiling up at Johnny.

“Mm, that it does,” Johnny smiled back at you, and you felt like you could absolutely drown in those ocean eyes.

“You tryna get us drunk or something, love?” Simon teased, lips pressing against your collarbone.

“Something like that,” you laughed, turning your head meet his lips for a quick kiss. “Here, I’ll go, order them” you reasoned, being on the outside of the seat and closest to the bar. “Be right back.” You pushed yourself from the booth to your feet, and instantly the entire room started spinning. Damn, you thought to yourself. That beer is hitting fast. You went to take one tentative step, and then the room started to tilt, the floor coming up at you fast.

Johnny was out of his seat in an instant, having picked up immediately something was wrong from the moment you stood up. His two large hands reached out to steady you, catching you in his arms. “Easy now,” he grunted, bracing you both. “I’ve got ye.” He gently lowered you back into the booth, letting your weak form lean up against Simon. Simon’s hands instantly held you against him, supporting you. At the edge of the booth, Johnny got down on one knee so he could be eye level with you.

“Look at me, hen,” he coaxed. “What’re you feeling?” Johnny grabbed one of the ice waters from the table and gingerly helped bring it to your lips.

You blinked, trying to get your bearings. The room finally stopped spinning. “M’fine,” you mumble before taking a sip of the water Johnny offered you. The icy cold liquid helped clear your mind. “Just got a bit dizzy.”

Johnny and Simon exchanged knowing glances.

“What’ve ye had to eat today, lass?” Johnny’s voice was gentle, prodding, but his eyes were a dead giveaway to the concern and hurt he was feeling, already knowing the answer.

“Umm, I’m not really sure,” you stepped around the question, your voice hesitant. “I think I had a banana this morning?”

Simon let out a resigned sigh. “I’m assuming that would be half of a banana,” he corrected. “Considering I found the remaining half still in the peel on top of the dresser.”

You eyelids fluttered shut, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Oh.” You let out. “Yeah, I went in there to grab one of your jumpers and I must have forgotten it.”

It happened all the time, you getting distracted mid task. It had gotten even worse since one of the side effects of your medication was a suppressed appetite. You never did have quite a good relationship with food to begin with though.

“And what about lunch?” Johnny continued his prodding.

You bit your bottom lip, a nervous habit of yours. Wincing, you reply with a mumbled “forgot.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as shame flooded through you.

At this, both men let out a sigh, completely in synch when it comes to their concern for you.

“Love, we’ve been over this,” Simon started before being cut off.

“M’sorry.” Despite your best efforts, a couple tears started to slide down your face.

Johnny pulls you into his arms. “S’okay, Bonnie,” he soothed, running a hand up and down your back.

“S’not okay, Johnny,” Simon snapped from the other side of you. “She needs to be eating.”

Johnny shot Simon a glare. “I know that, Si.” He took a deep breath before pressing a kiss to your temple, your head buried against his chest. “He’s right though, bonnie. Ye need to be eating.”

His hand slid up to grip your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

“I know,” you whined, fidgeting under his piercing gaze.

Simon scooted closer across the booth, a strong hand coming to rest against your back.

“We just need to know you’re taken care of, love,” Simon began to rub his hand in a soothing circle. “Specially knowing we can’t always be here to take care of you ourselves.”

“I know,” you sighed, feeling yourself shutting down.

Simon and Johnny exchange another glance, Simon giving a short nod of approval signaling to back off for now.

“Just promise us you’ll try,” Johnny pleaded. “For us. Please?”

You nod, sniffling.

“I promise,” you sighed softly. “I’ll try harder.”

Johnny gave you a crooked smile, a favorite of yours. “Atta girl.”

Simon pressed a kiss to the back of your head. “Now let’s go get some dinner, love. How’s that sound?”

“It sounds…” you trailed off. “Well, I don’t really feel that well.”

Simon nodded his head knowingly. “Well that’s cause you’ve hardly eaten today.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Probably.”

“Something easy then,” Johnny stated matter of factly. “Perfect weather for soup. Think you can manage that, dove?”

You gave a small nod and let Johnny transfer you over to Simon’s strong arms.

“Aye, good lass,” he gave you a quick peck. “Si, get our girl home and I’l go pick it up.”

“Affirmative,” Simon agreed, giving your hip a quick tap to encourage you to try to get on your feet again.

Johnny stood up and offered you a hand to help you up, Simon’s hands never leaving your hips until they were both certain you weren’t in danger of passing out on them.

“I’ll see you both at home,” Johnny quipped, giving both you and Simon a quick kiss on the cheek before going to pay the tab.

Simon helped you shrug into your coat and the two of you made your way out to the brisk Manchester air.

An hour later, empty takeaway containers littered the coffee table in the living room as you laid on the couch with your loves. You were pressed up against Simon, leaning up against him, tucked under his arm. Your legs were sprawled out across Johnny’s lap, his calloused hands giving you the most delightful foot massage.

“Y’know we love you, right?” Johnny’s voice broke the silence that had settled over the three of you.

“I know,” your voice was low.

“We just worry about you, love,” Simon urged, pressing a kiss to the back of your head.

“I promise I’ll try to be better.” You sighed softly. “I love you both so much.”

“We love you too, lass.” Johnny leaned forward to give you a kiss.

“So much,” Simon finished, pressing another kiss to your exposed neck.

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