#soapghost x reader
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vegetable patch (pt.2)
hybrid!simon 'ghost' riley & hybrid!john 'soap' mactavish
cw: hybrid!au, guard dog!simon, guard dog!john, bunny!reader, pregnancy/breeding, oral sex (femme & masc receiving), threesome, outdoor sex, cum eating (brief), exhibitionism
bunny says: there might be a part 3 (if you play your cards right)
read pt. 1
being the bunny on the farm was… different. farmer price only had guard dogs, but he never had a bunny. especially a pregnant bunny. he did the awkward task of making you take a pregnancy test after simon bred you amongst the lettuce. which involved simon squishing on your middle until you peed on the test. it was embarrassing, but it got the results the farmer needed.
you were pregnant with puppies. or bunnies. or puppy-bunnies. farmer price wasn't too sure. he never EXPECTED to look into how hybrids breed when he bought two MALE dogs. it was just one of them got into a wild bunny. but price was a bleeding heart and couldn't send you back into the woods. you'd be too vulnerable. so as your belly got a bit of baby fat, he made sure you were taken care of.
but you were still a wild animal.
“hey, hey! bunny relax!” farmer price had you in his arms as you kicked at john. you had a scowl on your face at the other guard dog, soap as he was called. price held you in his arms so you'd stop kicking his other dog in the face. he practically held you with your arms above your head and slightly above the ground, “relax, baby girl. relax. soap's not gonna hurt ya.”
you frowned, “i want simon.” you struggled against the farmer.
price sighed, “then stop kickin', put your legs down, sweetheart. you're too pregnant to be doin' this.” he hushed you and then slowly put you down once you were relaxed enough to not cause problems. you sat on the ground, your ears close to your head. or as price called them ‘airplane ears’.
john came closer and you furrowed your brow, he reached out for you and petted your face. you winced, you had to protect your children. you didn't need another mutt invading your pussy. he let out a small noise as he got closer to you. you whined and price sighed.
“alright.” the farmer said, “i'll see what simon is doing.” he left you alone with the other guard out the back door.
you and john looked at one another. his blue eyes seemed to gaze through you to your very soul. his ears were flat against his head as he sat down across from you. he licked his lips, “why won't you let me fuck you?”
you frowned, “i'm not a whore.”
he chuckled, “well you whoring yourself out let you into my home. i know simon adores you, but i have my eye on you bunny.” he got a little closer, “i want to know what makes you so special.” you held your gaze with him. he smirked, “simon liked something about you and i want to know what he liked about you. bunnies give it away for free so, why are you hiding?”
you whimpered and before john could do anything, simon was hauled back into the house. the large guard dog saw how close you were with john and instantly was to your side. he threw an arm over you as he gazed at his pack brother, “what are ya lookin' at?”
the farmer looked at the three of you. two guard dogs, and a pregnant bunny. quite a mix. he sighed and walked away, he had a farm to tend to. he couldn't deal with the affairs of his hybrids, he'd go even more grey if he thought about it too hard.
“she carryin' my pups, johnny. why are ya sniffin' around?” simon asked.
john smiled, “you never wanted a mate, but here you are with this little bunny.” he tilted his head to the side, “i want to know what makes her so… enticing."
simon got closer to his pack brother and looked in his eyes, “i got a bunny pregnant, i ain't abandoning her.”
john got close into simon's personal space, “then let me have a taste. as your pack brother, through thick and thin.” he licked his lips, “we won't be sharin' pups anyway.” he looked to you, “will the bunny give me a taste?”
you frowned, "shut up, john." you stuck your tongue out at the other man and simon pulled you close. he tucked your head into his chest, you held onto the t-shirt he wore. you noticeably relaxed.
"i don't think you'd know how to even fuck a bunny." simon said as he looked down at you then to his pack brother.
john narrowed his eyes, "i know a fair bit, you don't know what i was up to before i ended up here."
simon lifted your chin, "maybe we have to do a little bondin' or else price is goin' have our heads."
you looked up at your mate, "and if he gets too aggressive."
"then his throat will go between my incisors."
your ears twitched a little at the sound of john's laugh as he got closer. he reached out for you. soon you were in both men's arms. your belly kept you from being too close to simon but your plump ass was right up against john's cock.
"what do you say, bunny?"
you looked to both men and sighed, "you're lucky my hormones are out of wack, soap." you made a noise as you were pulled into john's arms.
he rested his chin on your shoulder and smiled at simon, "maybe if i'm lucky, the next pups will be mine." but his ears when back and he stepped off when simon got closer.
"in your dreams, johnny."
price had a thing about the hybrids of the house having sex in common areas. he had already caught you and simon giving each other pleasure over the kitchen island. he has seen more than enough of your pregnant belly. he didn't need to see anymore.
the farmer had promised himself that after you had simon's pups then he'd get you one some kind of birth control. he didn't need more hybrids in the house. it was bad enough you were pregnant with another one.
he had left for the day to go into town to go to the store and do other affairs. which left you and the two guard dogs alone. this was when your plan went into action.
on the warm porch you were rested up against simon, the man's strong arms held you close and john was between your legs. ears flat to his head as he lapped at your cunt like the dog he was.
you whimpered, it was hard to see him over the slope of your belly, but you could feel his ears and head up against your taunt skin. your pups shifted in your belly and you held onto your lover.
"you're not too bad, johnny."
"i told ya i knew what i was doin'. you just didn't trust me, didn't ya?" john chuckled as he held your thighs open, his blunt nails dug into the muscle of your thighs. the skin was soft and he found it so alluring.
he had no idea someone like you was living in those woods. part of him wished that he was patrolling the farm that day. then maybe you'd be having his pups. but hey, there was always next time.
you squirmed a little and simon held you firmly. he said in your ear, "careful now." then looked back to his pack brother and added, "you can go a little faster, bunnies fuck quick to avoid predators."
you frowned and kicked your legs out a little as you felt his licks become quickly. you let go of your lover and grabbed his hair. you made an 'eep' noise and closed your legs around his head.
the softness of your skin around his head almost made him cum in his shorts. soon his hands were on your large belly. he said something but was muffled. his hands roamed the skin and you felt pleasure flutter in your stomach.
simon held you down on the porch and pulled his cock out of his sweat shorts. he tilted your head back so he could have easy access to your throat. soon you were giving pleasure to simon while john was pleasuring you.
three hybrids on the porch on a summer's day fucking the way their nature intended. your moaned loudly but was muffled by simon's cock in your mouth. you held onto your belly over top of john's hands.
your eyes went wide when you heard a yapping from the fence. the three of you looked over, simon's cock still in your mouth. you all saw a coyote hybrid with light brown hair and piercing blue eyes.
both guard dogs got closer to you, folding you into yourself, which was made hard by the bump. simon kept eye contact with the man and hunched over you while he held onto your jaw.
if your hunches were right, you knew that coyote. the knowledge made a flash of embarrassment flow through you, but you couldn't wiggle out of their grasp. you made a sharp noise as you felt john's tongue graze across your clit.
he chuckled and simon pushed his cock further into your mouth. you were a whorish display for phillip graves. you looked away but simon turned your head to face the coyote. the guard dogs were showing that they had staked claim on your little bunny pussy.
and you hated you kind of liked it.
graves made a face before he turned around and headed back into the woods. he wasn't going after the chickens today.
john pulled away from your thighs and looked up at you and simon. he beamed, "i don't think that fuckin' dog is comin' back." he sat up on his knees and leaned back on his heels. he wiped the wetness from his face, "good thing too."
simon was continuing to rock his cock and out of you, his grip had loosened on your jaw. he looked to his pack brother and said, "yeah, hate to scare the bunny."
john chuckled and patted your swollen middle, "still mad at me, bonnie?"
you looked at him and tried to shake your head in a no, but it hard to with your lover's cock in your throat. your eyes did go wide however when john pulled his cock out of his threadbare shorts and rubbed it up against your soaked cunt.
soon you were being fucked by both men from two different angles. simon was in your throat while john was in your cervix. you were caught between them.
"how ya feelin' mama." simon asked as he looked down at you. those dark eyes gazed into yours.
you reached for his arms and held onto them as you gazed up at him as you took his cock out of your mouth, "never been better." then gave him a smile. your nipples were hard in the afternoon air as you were rocked back and forth between both men.
simon slipped his cock back into your mouth and continued to seek pleasure from your mouth. the sex wasn't what you expected from two guard dogs, you expected it to like you first time with simon.
but both were gentle as they could be. it made your heart swell a little. it was endearing that they were treating you so nicely, even if their large cocks seemed like they were meeting in your intestines.
you felt the pleasure come over you, your heightened hormones made orgasm come quickly. made john wasn't a bad fuck after all. simon could be possessive, but mostly towards those outside the house. he seemed to be fine with john fucking you.
you moaned around your lover's cock as you felt drunk off the intense feeling. it wasn't long before you kicked out your legs and you tightened around both men's cocks. you tensed up before you relaxed with a loud moan.
simon held your face while john held your hips. both men started to move a little faster, they were going to climax as well. they both looked at one another with pleasure in their eyes. simon gave a curt nod and john gave a more enthusiastic one in return.
you looked like a dream, a pregnant little bunny allowing herself to be fucked on the porch of her new home. the men wondered if any other hybrids would come by before they finished.
but their wish wasn't fulfilled because both men soon pulled with and stroked their cocks over your naked, pregnant body. within moments of one another, both men came all over your body.
you whimpered at the feeling of their hot seed across your face and belly. john even chuckled and picked up some of it off your chest and fed it to you.
"dirty bunny." he snickered.
"be nice, johnny. or you're not gettin' her again."
john exhaled contently, "i get why you got to keep her." he looked at your wet pussy and then back at simon, "i guess bunnies fuck better."
"yeah get 'em pregnant and they'll stay out of the garden."
john started to stroke his cock to get it hard once more. he spoke like you weren't even in front of him. he said to simon, "you take her pussy and i'll take her throat?"
simon took a quick look at you before he looked back to john, "sounds like a plan." he then looked back at you, "hands and knees, doll. i want to see that cottontail shake." <3
xoxo, bunny
#bunny writes#call of duty#reader insert#call of duty modern warfare#simon ghost riley#ghost call of duty#ghost mw2#ghost cod#call of duty smut#soap call of duty#john soap mactavish#soap mactavish#soap mw2#soap x reader#john soap mctavish smut#john soap mctavish x reader#john soap x reader#john soap mctavish x you#soapghost x reader#ghostsoap x reader#cod hybrid au#bunny!reader
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This is one of my nastier thoughts-
Hide and seek gangbang. Reader (bottom) hides somewhere on base and the first one to find her gets to fuck her while everyone else watches (or joins in 👀)
This was so much fun, I may have to do a matching one for Price and Gaz!
“Ohh songbird…”
You feel your heart hammer against the cage of your ribs, hands planted across your face to prevent even a single sound from escaping at the tenor of Johnny’s voice floating through the unused warehouse, sing-song, teasing, hungry.
It’s been the better part of an hour since you were chased in here, sneaking through the dusty aisles of upended crates and empty shelves. The flickering dimness of this space seems to only add to the rapid thump of your heartbeat, muscles coiled in preparation to run, to flee should you be discovered.
“I know you’re in here.”
He’s close. Too close. You can hear his footsteps from where you press yourself inside the shadows of a doorway, his heavy boots a purposeful, slow echo throughout the empty space. It’s almost like he wants you to know exactly where he is, advertises his presence with every noise. What his strategy is, you aren’t sure, but you’re certain that if he gets any close he’ll find you for sure, claim his prize only to set you free once more.
“Come out come out, wherever ye are…” He chuckles, and you rise slowly from where you crouch, tip-toe to the door and see the profile of him vanish just beyond the edge of the hallway. It gives you the chance you need, and you quickly but quietly move down the other direction, keeping eyes on where he’s disappeared to.
Yet then your foot crunches against something fragile and you freeze, hear his pleased little noise of realization a split second before you bolt, shoes hitting the floor harshly as you sprint away from the sound of his pursuit.
“There you are!” Johnny calls gleefully from behind you, and christ- how did he close the distance so fast?!
You skid around the next corner, nearly stumble, and launch yourself forward past a darkened doorway yawning into a pitch black room-
Skeletal hands reach out, snatch you mid-step and drag you backwards. You yell from behind the palm covering your mouth, adrenaline spiking in your blood and trying to thrash away from Ghost as he hauls you further into the darkness.
“Caught you.” He murmurs in your ear as your hands are dragged behind him, back flush with the rigid surface of his tac vest. It sends a jolt of something through you, dark and thrilling as he overwhelms you with his adamantium strength, smears charcoal across the inside of your skull with his mere presence.
It only grows when the zip-ties fasten around your wrists, and you again try to squirm free with no success.
“You’re a fast little bugger.” Johnny pants as he leans on the doorway, his gloved fist planted on the frame. Yet his eyes dance with delight as he witnesses you caught in Ghost’s grasp, dragging his lip between his teeth at the conflict of outrage and desire in your gaze.
“Hells bells.” The Scotsman breathes, and he steps forward, his hand falling to the bulge in his pants, which he idly strokes through his pants. Yet then his eyes catch that of Ghost’s behind you and he grins, untamed and starved. “Teamwork makes the dream work, eh LT?”
You fuckers.
“Get in here Johnny.” Ghost offers instead, and you clamp your thighs together as his hand abruptly descends into your pants, your wetness soaking through his gloved fingertips.
“Looks like our pet likes to be chased.” He observes, and if you didn’t know him better you’d swear he sounds detached, playing the villain. It only ratchets the excitement inside you higher, and you answer it with a muffled yell that only summons a chuckle from the sergeant before you, now pressing against your front and sandwiching you between the two men.
“Tough luck, us finding you first.” He tuts, and his hand raises your shirt and presses flat against the softness of your stomach appreciatively, suggestively. “Won’t be much left for Price and Gaz once we’re done with you, hen.”
You stare defiantly up at him, and it only seems to please Johnny, who’s eyes dance bright in the dimness and his fingers rise to tug a nipple. It makes you falter for a moment, the sudden sharp sensation making your expression shift into something wanting, a little mewl escaping you at the pleasure that rises inside you between his fingers and Ghost’s digits stroking against your folds.
“Fuck, we’re going to ruin you.” He promises, and Ghost hums a dark, pleased assent in response. “Fill you up and send you scampering so the others can hunt you down and have their fun too, aye?”
Ghost presses down on your clit and you mewl, nod frantically in an effort to get them to really touch you, giving into temptation and erasing this farce of pursuit that’s led you here. Ghost notices and huffs a laugh, low and dark in your ear.
“So needy, pet.” He murmurs, and you shift so you can grind yourself down onto his hand, eyes fluttering as it stokes the pleasure burning inside you.
“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you.” Johnny promises, and gently pulls Simon’s gloved hand away, tilts your head so his lips descend to meet your own. “Just need to ask us for it.”
You consider escape once more, but between Johnny’s decadent touch and Ghost’s unyielding grasp, you find yourself with few other places you want to be.
You surrender, gasp out your reply in a wanting sigh that spills across his tongue.
“Please.”
#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#soapghost x reader#john soap mctavish x you#thursday night thots
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owner!simon who trains mutt!soap to fuck mutt!reader. he just wants to see the hybrid, human-dog babies, and tend to your pregnancy cravings. :(
#reader and soap are dog-hybrids#more pup!soap and pup!reader... i say? 🤭#tw: pet play#orla speaks#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#john soap mactavish#soap mactavish#john soap mctavish x reader#ghostsoap#soapghost#soapghost x reader#ghostsoap x reader
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Simon and Johnny help you unwind.
ghost/soap/reader
warnings: substance use, smut, threesome, double penetration, a lot of ghoap action uwu
wc: 1.3k
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The military has a fickle reputation for the stuff they get up to in private.
Superficially, you're all saints who wear your medals as vestments. Lionhearted patriots fighting in the name of safety. The sacrificial lambs for freedom. But if they saw you now now, the people dedicated to thanking you for your virtuous service, surely, they'd hit the roof.
A glimmer of white powder coats the space below Johnny's nose, some of it caught in the fleece of his five o'clock shadow. Simon is poised behind you, bending you forward and distorting your spine, hoisting himself forward to lick the granules off Johnny’s ruddy face. He swills him in for a kiss and abruptly pulls away, stealing Johnny’s breath and giving it to you.
Johnny’s ratty. Always is when he’s worked up. Grabby and needy with how he ruts his hips up, baring his neck.
“Please,” he hiccups, “Cannae be patient–”
Simon shuts him up with a hand choked around the hinges of his jaw, digging divots into his dewy flesh.
The gossamer of scars lining Simon’s face distend as he growls. “Pups don’t talk. Be quiet.”
Simon partakes in sanctimony as he pursues what he had barked at Johnny for. He’s a more refined, tenacious, in how he consumes and is consumed, fluidly reaching down to spread your sticky cunt open, hugging you in his thick arms.
Your head falls back on his shoulder. Your hips swivel with the swish of his fingers on your clit. You deeply inhale, breath hitching on Simon’s name.
Though his name dies on your tongue as he swats your pussy. Simon swallows your body as you flinch, and eases the burn of your clit with his palm as he cups your cunt, gently massaging your folds.
“What’s the point of havin’ two mutts when none of ‘em wanna listen?” He vacantly asks, hooking his fingers inside of you, spreading you open. “Johnny, get the snow.”
If you weren’t so fucked out, you would have cooed at how eagerly Johnny follows Simon’s orders. He gets caught on his own excitement and trips over himself on the way back, as a dog would trip over its tail, as he clutches a baggy of crystallised pellets.
“Go ahead,” Simon prompts, “do it off her tits.”
Simon pivots his forearm around your throat and anchors you to his chest. You can’t see it, but you can feel it, as Johnny shakes a fine strip of dust between your breasts. You’re slick with sweat, roiling with heat, softly dissolving the powder.
Johnny leans in and inhales what he can. He’s febrile when he comes up for air, flushed, tugging his cock that pathetically bobs in place.
Simon loosens his hold on you and leans forward, licking the rest of it up. It's the first thaw—wetness against what used to be ice, as a burn sizzles your skin. You buck your hips up, and Simon slips his fingers from you. Raises them to his mouth and sucks them clean. Grips Johnny by the scruff of his neck and wrestles him in, swapping your taste with him.
Simon pulls back and, fleetingly, Johnny pathetically chases after him. A wash of saliva coats their lips, and a thin film of dew clouds Johnny’s eyes. It’s tempered with the powder that impairs him, prompts him to begin humping a pillow.
“Y’reckon she needs a good fuck?” Simon asks.
Johnny vigorously nods.
Simon pats his cheek. “Bark when you’re told.”
“Aye.” Johnny's humping is stopped with Simon's peremptory hand.
“Which hole do ya want?”
The flinty tone laced in Simon’s question makes you flush. Makes embarrassment pool and congeal in your belly. It's so crass, so inclement as he pets his cock.
Johnny hangs his head like a kicked dog, embarrassed, and Simon tactfully catches on. He deeply chuckles and grabs him by the jaw, kissing his furrowed lips.
“You want it, you prep it.”
Johnny excitedly nods. He grabs you by the hips and spins you around, slipping his cock between the fat of your ass. He digs dimples into your shoulders, using them for leverage as he fiercely ruts you. You’re being used, watching as Simon fishes out lube from the bedside table, uncaps it, and squirts it onto the facet of Johnny’s palm.
The squelch emanating behind you is evident. Johnny pulls you into his lap with one hand, and works the lube around his dick with the other. He softly mewls and moans, pinching his cockhead and kissing your asshole with it.
Simon grunts, slotting himself before you. He tucks his legs below you, lodging his ankles behind Johnny. You’re slippery and sweet and honey-like between them, breathless and buttery as their wandering hands fondle you. Simon’s fat cock sits throbbing on your pussy as he shakes his thumb around the baggy, coating his finger in the powder. He rocks into you slower, meaner, than Johnny. Tugging down your bottom lip and rubbing powder into your gums. Slipping his thumb away, letting your lip pop back into place.
“We’ve trained you for this, yeah?” Simon hums. He takes you by the chin and hoists your neck up, presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth.
You rock forward and want to swallow him whole. It’s a violent juxtaposition—Simon winsomely kissing you; Johnny stuffing his big cock in your ass, negligent to how your body tries shying away, insistent on sheathing himself all the way in.
You’re quivering when Simon starts sliding himself into you. You’re all a mess of limbs—bleeding into one, coagulating into a deity while Simon fucks your dewy cunt, augmenting himself to you and Johnny.
“Get your bone, Pet,” Simon grunts into your neck. “Work for it.”
A wave of relief crests over you. You’re cut from your leash, unfettered and free to chase your orgasm. A manifold of molten builds in your belly, burning you, as you snap your hips back and forth. Swallowing Simon, swallowing Johnny. Sucking them deeper while your rings of muscle try pushing them out. They’re so big, it aches.
Simon said you could fuck yourself on them, but it’s hard when you’re so full of cock. You’re a pack of dogs in heat, working together. Johnny, fucking brutishly into your ass. Simon jacking his hips balls-deep into you, thumbing your clit. You, ebbing between them. Weightless like water. Selfishly seizing all they have to give you. Wet and sticky, spread open on two dicks.
“‘M close, Simon,” Johnny chokes. He peals Simon’s name for permission. Permission to come, and more importantly, to come in something that’s his. To lapse into sacrilege and taint his pretty, pleasing, pup.
Johnny gets more desperate as he draws close, dissolving into sloppy thrusts and wandering teeth. A pin-headed mess of moans and hiccups. “I needa come.”
“Inside ‘er,” Simon snarls, and you clench down tighter, stifling his thrusts.
Johnny manages two more strokes before emptying his balls inside you. He’s buried to the hilt, releasing his warm and sticky come in you, crying, quivering, kissing your neck.
His undoing triggers a chain reaction. He fills you up and you overflow, succumbing to your orgasm. It shoots through you like no bullet can, enfeebling you.
Simon follows closely. He takes you by the hind of your skull and shoves your face into his hairy, bare, virile chest. His heartbeat thumps against your ear as he shoots his turbid ropes into you, drawing closer and fucking you through your orgasms.
They both pull you impossibly close—trying to sink themselves in your skin—and sit there for a while, marinating their softening cocks inside of you.
Simon is the first to move. Johnny’s too fucked out and heavy-lidded. The former stands up and wipes you both clean, disposes the little bag in a fissure somewhere in his private barrack. The bed sinks under his weight as he climbs back on, and swiftly, like two parasites dead and cold without their host, you and Johnny nuzzle into Simon.
Your sweaty bodies glue you together, rebirthing you. It helps, being fixed with them. Because you, you’re broken in all the right places.
#soap x reader#ghost x reader#soapghost x reader#ghoap x reader#simon riley smut#ghost smut#simon riley x reader#ghost/soap/reader#ghost/reader#soap/reader#soap mactavish smut#simon riley#soap mactavish#cod mw2#simon writing#johnny writing#ghoap writing#writing
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ghost and soap who don't know what to do with a sweet, innocent barista like you. [nsfw]
it starts when you first start working at the café a town over. just a shy, quiet-spoken girl, making coffee for the mysterious soldiers who come from the local military base.
when soap walks in one morning, expecting to find the kind old lady who runs the shop, imagine his surprise when he sees you bent over the counter, wiping it over with a damp rag. he damn near trips over his own feet when you look up at the sound of the bell, soft smile directed towards him. just for him.
when you ask for his order, it takes all of his focus to get the words out -- his own iced latte, and ghost's long black. all he can even think of is how your glossy lips would taste, or how your soft tits would feel against his bare chest. how your body would feel between him and simon, if the two of them were to ravage you in such a way.
that same night, when soap sneaks into ghost's room, he tells the man all about you between needy gasps. with johnny in simon's tight grip, the older man forces him to tell him everything, about what pervy things he had imagined. what he wanted.
when johnny finally spills over, it's with your name on his lips -- he's been playing it over and over in his mind since he first laid his eyes on your nametag.
it's two days later that an estranged man with a skull balaclava strides into your cafe, hands in his pockets. funnily enough, he makes the same order that the highly attractive scot had just a few days before.
when you hand him the two drinks with a bright smile, his gloved fingers brush yours, his voice low as he thanks you.
if your hand falls between your thighs later that night, thinking about your two new customers, then that's between you and your bedroom walls.
sometimes, weeks go by where you don't see either man. when that happens, you find yourself yearning to talk to them again -- to have their softened expressions filled with gratitude and... something else focused on you as you hand them their coffees.
even when they go, they always come back.
it's one thursday morning when, for the first time, both of them come in at the same time.
johnny's gesturing something wildly to his partner, while simon's hands remain in his pockets, patient expression solely directed at the shorter man.
and when both of them stop, to look at you?
if you were a weaker woman, you'd have fainted. you just ask them for their orders. you've already readied their cups.
after making their drinks, you move to hand them to the two, but a roughened hand around your wrist stops you in your tracks.
battering your lashes, you look up to find simon gazing down at you, something heated in his deep, brown eyes. when he leans down and offers you a day with them?
who are you to decline?
#⌨️ : love's writing#need them in a GUTTURAL way#call of duty#cod mw2#cod x reader#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#soap x reader#ghost x reader#ghost call of duty#soap mw2#soap cod#soapghost#soap x ghost#ghoap#ghoap x reader#soapghost x reader#poly cod
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Across the Way
Chapter One: New Places, New Faces
Ao3 | Next
MDNI
Pairing: Ghoap x fem!plus size!Reader
Word Count: 2.7k
Summary: You go to Scotland with high hopes for your future. After all, you have the bakery you always dreamed of and a whole new life to live. Plus, the men who own the butcher’s shop across the street seem nice.
Johnny stirs awake with a grunt as Riley’s wet nose bumps against his hand. There’s a very slight ache behind his eyes - the kind that marks an oncoming migraine. He groans, not wanting to open them to the invasive sunlight that will inevitably make it worse. Then again, that’s the only way he can get any preemptive pain medication in his system. He still makes a noise of complaint when he finally peels back his lids.
“Feelin’ alright?” Simon rumbles, setting a glass on the nightstand along with two little pain pills. How he’s able to tell what kind of morning Johnny’s having before even he can is a true mystery.
Johnny just grunts back, rolling onto his side to grab his hearing aid out of the nightstand drawer. Normally he wouldn’t bother with putting it on with a possibly impending migraine, but he figures he can chance it. They’ve been lessening in the past few months. Somewhat.
“Plans for the day?” Simon asks as he pulls on one of his work shirts. “Up for coming to the shop?”
The little clock beside him blinks out five in the morning. Even after being retired for nearly three years, neither of them can manage to sleep in late whether they have to be up or not. “Gonnae take Riley out tae the park. Might drop by.”
“Don’t push yourself too hard.”
“Me? Never.” Johnny flashes his husband a grin.
Simon just rolls his eyes in response. The rest of their morning is quiet, as most are when Johnny isn’t up for talking. It’s a comfortable silence, one they both came to appreciate long before this current chapter in their lives. One that developed on cots and in tents and the wreckage of war zones.
It’s just how they are.
Being essentially a stay at home husband was not how Johnny pictures his thirties. Being disabled was not how he pictured… any of it. He thought he’d be up for Lieutenant by now. Thought Simon would have taken over as Captain of the 141. He’s learned not to be bitter about it (with Simon’s and some professional help).
He can’t complain too much. He’s alive. He gets to be with his family. With Simon. With Riley in this run down dog park throwing around a ball that she dutifully chases and brings back with the pride of a great hunter bringing home a prized beast. He gets to go home to a place that is truly his, with a big comfortable bed and a man he fought tooth and nail to fill it with.
It’s a small life but he’s learned that small doesn’t mean unimportant.
Christ who knew turning thirty would make him a damn philosopher.
“Alright, lassie, time tae go.” Johnny crouches to shuffle Riley’s harness and leash back on. He knees pop and his back protests the movement. It’s a mercy that they were able to get such a lovely service dog. She’s such a good pup, always at the ready and happy to obey.
Except now, as she begins to tug insistently at her leash with her full weight - or at least as much as she can use without hurting him. It isn’t like her. He clicks and commands her to heel. She tugs harder and whines. It isn’t an alert that he knows - maybe it’s one that they don’t need often? He lets go of the leash, following as she quickly jogs away.
He circles a few bushes in pursuit, coming to face one of the large trees on the outer edge of the park. There’s a girl leaned on it, breath coming in and out heavy. She starts to slip forward a bit before Riley props her up, stabalizing the girl in much the same way she does Johnny when he gets faint. He speeds up his steps, holding out his hands on either side of the girl in case she falls.
“Aren’t you a good girl?” She coos at Riley quietly. American. Huh. He watches the girl dig in her pocket for something, eventually pulling out what looks like a to-go salt packet. She tears it open, throwing it back like a shot.
“Ye a’right?” Johnny asks, tilting his head.
She nods and takes a long, deep breath. “Sorry, I have a…thing.” She waves her hand around her head, straightening up and turning to face him. She’s cute. Insanely cute - with big eyes and soft body. Lovely curves from head to toe. Johnny may be a married man but that doesn’t mean he can’t apprecaite a little, right?
“Donnae apologize. I’ve got a thing, tae.” Johnny grins and points to the scar on his head where his hair never quite grew back.
She gives him a soft smile. “Well, you’ve got a good dog. I’ve never had one alert like that.”
“Aye, she was tuggin’ hard. Must’ve been a pretty bad spell. Ye sure yer okay?”
“Yeah.” Her braided hair falls about her shoulders. “Just didn’t eat enough before I went for a walk and then I stood up too quickly…”
“Och, standin’, my age old enemy.”
She giggles quietly, pressing her fingers over her lips to cover them. It’s pretty, the way her round face gets even rounder with her smile.
“Johnny.” He holds out a hand, flashing his most charming smile he can muster. It’s a little more tired these days - the corners of his eyes crinkle more than they used to. The girl takes his hand, so soft and warm and small in his, and breathes out her name quietly. Almost bashfully. So cute.
Unfortunately his phone chimes, interrupting the moment before he can ask her more.
“I should be off, ye sure yer okay?” Johnny lets his eyes take over her, not just her body but also checking that she is, in fact, okay. Her eyes seem clear, stance steady, not too pale or too flushed. He’s no medic but he’d say she’s going to be fine.
“Yeah, yeah. Thank you.” She crouches slightly, slowly moving to look at Riley. “And thank *you* ma’am.”
Johnny watches her walk away, pausing to make sure she doesn’t stumble. He’s not sure what compels him - maybe it’s the solider in him still wanting to watch for the safety of those around him. It definitely doesn’t have anything to do with the way her wide hips sway as she makes her way down the path.
Johnny can’t stop smiling as he makes his way to the shop for some reason. It wasn’t even all that impressive of an interaction, but something about it really warmed his heart. Maybe it was just meeting someone else with a *thing*, as she put it. There really isn’t anyone else in his life who needs as much support as him - certainly not many adults in this small town who need assistance on the whole. It’s rare to meet someone who gets it, however briefly.
“Wot’s got you so chipper?” Simon quirks an eyebrow as he enters.
The door bell chimes above his head. Riley trots off from Johnny’s side to her designated bed in the corner of the shop. Away from the food but close enough that she could easily get wherever Johnny might be. One of the regulars even made a plaque for her that his Da screwed on the wall.
“Met a nice lass today in the park.” He shrugs. “Pretty little thing.”
“Ah, your great-aunt’s prayin’ finally do you in?” Simon chuckles as Johnny ducks behind the counter to rest a hand on the small of his back.
“Aye, finally realized I should turn tae a life of lassies an’ biarns. Yer great arse has no power over me now, foul demon.”
Simon chuckles. There’s something about it that always does Johnny in. A low rumble he can feel in his very bones. “Glad to see you’re feelin’ better.”
Johnny hums. “The warm weather helps, fer whatever reason.”
“Good. You see the shop across the street?”
Johnny turns, looking out their front window. The construction has been going on for a few months - various workers milling in and out. Neither he nor Simon could figure out what they were putting in until small signs were put across the windows announcing the new location to be The Honey Bun Bakery with an opening date at the bottom. A bit cutesy for their taste, but a new bakery in town is exciting. The last one closed because the owners got too old and had no one to take over. His mother has been buzzing about it since the signs were first put up.
The biggest mystery is the owner. No one has seen hide nor hair of whoever owns the place. There were movers taking things into the attached apartment on the floor above about a week ago, but no one has actually seen the resident. He or she is a ghost. Gossip has filled the town, of course. Especially among the older folks. That’s another thing his mother has been fluttering about.
“Already opening day, eh?”
“Yep.”
“We should check it out, then.”
Simon hums. “We’ll go after the morning rush if you’re up for it, hm?”
“Aye.”
“Johnny?” The shorter man jumps as Simon’s hands rest on his waist. He’ll never get over the intensity of Simon’s eyes. For a man who keeps his emotions locked in the deepest parts of him, he sure carries a lot of it in those pretty dark pools.
“Aye?” The word comes out breathier than he means it to.
“You look sunburnt.”
Johnny barks out a laugh, half-heartedly shoving his husband off. “An’ here I thought ye were gonnae say somethin’ romantic.”
“You know me better than that.” Simon’s eyes crinkle in the corners with a smile as he pulls the mask to the side, pressing a kiss to Johnny’s lips.
You may or may not have slept exactly 3.46 hours last night. It’s not your fault, really. Today’s your first day. Your first real day of your new life and your new career. Years of prayers and months upon months of planning, waiting, crying, and straining have finally come to a head. You’re in Scotland, your bakery is constructed, all that’s left is to actually bake.
And sell, of course, but you try your hardest not to think about that part or you might throw up. Again.
You curse the time it takes you to shower, carefully acclimating to the heat of the shower and sitting in your little plastic seat. You want to run, to act like the a whirlwind you feel in your head. You can’t, though, it’s not worth possibly ruining the most important day in your life just because you were impatient and passed out. At least you finally got your medication situation figured out before coming over here - the perfect little cocktail sitting on the corner of your dresser.
Your hands tremble a bit as you open up one of the cardboard boxes still sitting in your living room. You’d picked out a special outfit for your first real day of owning your own business months ago - one you made sure would be here with you on opening day. Really, it isn’t anything special - just a pair of black gingham trousers and a black cotton t-shirt along with your well-loved non-slip shoes. It’s yours though, and it perfectly matches your specially embroidered apron with your little logo on the front, center pocket. It’s yours. All yours. It’s a reminder that you’re here. You made it out.
You had already done a good bit of the work the day before - putting together your doughs and shaping up pastries to proof overnight in the fridge. Now all that’s left is to actually bake them and put them out. The smell wafts through the building, covering any left over scents of paint or construction work. It feels real. Grounding. You’re here and you can feel, smell, even taste it.
You expected a few customers. Not much. High hopes and low expectations. Just a couple people here and there that noticed the new shop coming to town and were curious about it. You’d advertised as well as you could from across the pond. Maybe a little rush around the late morning when people are usually out for brunch and shopping at most.
You did not expect a constant stream from the moment you propped the door open until the late afternoon. These Scots run you fucking ragged. A constant flux of in and out, all day. All them wanting to chat, as well.
“Oh, American! Whit part are ye from?”
“Yer sae young! Just a wee bairn!”
“So nice havin’ a bakery again, aye?”
“Urr ye merrit? Ah hae a son-“
You regret not buying that coffee machine for the back room.
Just as you’re stacking display baskets to take to the back to wash up the door chimes behind you. Here you thought you were finally done for the day. You sigh. “Sorry, hun, I’m pretty much out of everyth-”
“Ye!” You whirl, only to meet those same bright blue eyes from the day before.
“Johnny!” You squeak, eyes wide.
“Why dinnae ye mention the shop?” The man grins wide - the same as the day before. Sparkling and bright and far, far more pretty than you’re prepared to deal with. His hair is neater today - not ragged from exercise with his service dog who currently sits politely by his feet.
“Ah, was little light headed. Wasn’t thinking straight.” You shrug.
“Speaking of, how’s yer thing?” He waves a hand about his head the same way you did the day prior. It’s cute how invested he seems to be, genuinely asking if you’re alright. The man looming behind him watches silently.
“Oh, I’m alright. Finer than the hair on a toad split four ways.” You grin.
The man behind him furrows his brow slightly at the expression, but doesn’t offer a word. He’s tall. Wide too and dressed in all black with long sleeves despite the warm, spring weather. His hair is buzzed neatly. There’s a severity to him only emphasized by the scar splitting his brow and the small chip missing from his ear.
“Och, this is my husband Simon.” Jihnny steps to the side and gestures toward the brooding figure behind him. “We own the butcher shop across the street.”
“No shit!” You can’t help but smile ear to ear, holding out your hand. They seem so sweet. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you. Glad to have such nice neighbors.”
Simon shakes your hand a single time curtly before stepping back behind Johnny. The severity in his dark eyes softens whenever he glances toward the other man. Cute.
“We wanted tae come see whit ye’ve got.”
“I haven’t got much left…” You tap your chin and rest a hand on your hip, wanting to rectify the dip of disappointment in the pretty man’s brow. “Oh! I’ve got a sourdough in the back. One sec!”
You skitter off, paying little mind to how silly you must look practically prancing toward the back room. Originally, you’d planned to save this for yourself tonight as a job-well-done treat but it feels more gratifying to give it to your new neighbors. Hopefully they like it - maybe you can finally make some friends for the first time in… ever really.
“How much fer it?”
“On the house. We’re neighbors now, yeah? First ones free.” You grin, wrapping it extra nicely in some brown paper packaging.
“Thank ye, bonnie.” Johnny cradles the loaf so carefully you almost laugh - as if he’s afraid too much pressure will completely ruin it. Like he’s holding a precious treasure. “We’ll leave ye alone tae close but we’ll see ye around, aye?”
“Course.” You nod, waving after them and they exit. You can see the big blonde, Simon, turn to Johnny to say something but it’s impossible to hear them or tell from their lips as they cross the street back to their butcher shop. They link hands, fingers intertwining with long practiced grace, and something in your throat constricts.
What’s it like, you wonder, to have a love like that?
#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#call of duty#ghost cod#cod x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#ghost x reader#cod#ghoap x reader#ghoap#soapghost x reader#plus size reader#fat reader#simon riley x reader#john mactavish x reader#slice of life#holly writes#john soap mctavish x reader
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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.
#ink by bambi#auspicioustidings#valentine's writing#sweeter than sugar#ghoap x reader#ghostsoap x reader#soapghost x reader#ghost x soap x reader#ghoap x you#ghostsoap x you#soapghost x you#ghost x soap x you#ghost x soap x you smut#simon riley#simon “ghost” riley#john mactavish#john “soap” mactavish#simon riley imagine#simon riley smut#john mactavish imagine#john mactavish smut#modern warfare imagine#modern warfare smut
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☁️soapghost x male reader(sfw)
☁️genre: fluff
☁️warning(s): your in a hospital(?)
☁️a/n: mmmm look at me giving yall content yall prolly don't want
your eyes slowly start to open, the bright lights around you shining almost blinding you even. a groan slips from your lips as you try to look away and close your eyes from the light.
after a few seconds you start moving your body, or small portions of it moving your toes slightly, scrunching your nose, and lastly moving and squeezing your hands and fingers.
it wasn't until later you realise your felt both of your hands occupied by someone else's hands. "see? i told you he'd wake." a scottish like voice rings through your ears causing you to wince as everything felt sensitive.
"shut it johnny, let him gain his consciousness more." a british sounding voice came along with the other. the light that shined through your eyes started to adjust to your vision as you slowly started to see the two 'voices' more clearly.
the one on your left was a man, he was tan skinned with a mohawk like hair style. you guessed he must have been the one wit the scottish voice. you could just tell. the one on your right had a type of mask on like a skull mask on, you could see that his eyes were somewhat cold but had a softened look of worry when he gazed at you.
besides you being in the hospital the only thing you could think of was; 'wow...these guys are really hot.' for now, you weren't sure who these men really were because of the side effects of the medicine, it would wear off soon though.
"oh my.." you mumble. both of their hands tighten as you speak. "you alright love?" the man with the skull mask spoke to you slightly leaning foward.
even though you heard the nickname 'love' clear as day you couldn't help but ask the both of them, "are you single?" you look over to the male at the left of you. "both of ya i mean." your voice sounded lazy and slurred with your eyes hooded.
the scot next to you couldn't help but chuckle a but same as the skull masked man. "no neither of us are single." you slightly whined making an 'aww' sound. the both of the men found it a little funny how clueless your seemed medicine or not they'd be laughing their asses off if they weren't in public.
"the both of us are married as a matter of fact." ghost stated, your face getting a bit more upset. "what do 'ya mean your married? to who?" you said this almost like you were going to fight whoever the person they were both married to.
"ha, look at your fingers lad." you look down at your hands the both of them. "yeah? what about 'em?" you feel soap bring the hand he was holding close to your face. "a little closer." you squint your eyes seeing two rings on your ring finger.
"what is this?" you wiggle your fingers in the hand that held yours, the rings seemed to have some type of diamonds on them, the top one was a little thin, with a diamond in the middle of the holder.
the second one on the bottom had small little rings holders with small little diamonds holding in them. "why are there two of 'em also?" jumping a little at the cold pair of lips on your right hand, seeing that the man with the mask had lifted it up to kiss your fingers.
"we're your husband's." he said still litering small kisses on your fingers. your eyes slightly widened as wide as they could go. these two men were your husband's? like, you married them, had a whole relationship with them?
"what..so..im your husband? to the both of yall? b-both?" you smirk to yourself. "oh my gosh, i'm so damn lucky to have these two really hot dudes to me." you chuckle to yourself then you start to wonder.
"hey hey, did we fuck?" the both of them stop what they were doing to look at you. ghost having fingers to the bridge of his nose while soap tried to not laugh.
"oh lord (m/n) i can't with you."
wooooo more cod cause i literally read all of them out even the cringe ones cause i was desperate @gaybitchfx @reallyromealone / @rome-alone @bloodyfennec (ill bring you leon soon dw but please enjoy these buff military men) @secretivemessenger @vyloy @devilswhore-emrys @lostsomewhereinthegarden
#male reader#x male reader#male y/n#male reader insert#cod x male reader#ghost x reader#ghost x male reader#soap x reader#soap x male reader#cod soap#cod ghost#cod fluff#soap fuff#ghost fluff#soapghost#soapghost x reader#soapghost x male reader
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Poly TF141 x Omega!
(Poly TF14 x F! Omega Reader)
(Part Fourteen: Shared)
Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Hidden designations, Alpha! John Price, Alpha! Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Beta! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Omega! John 'Soap' MacTavish, Omega F! Reader, Group dynamics, Poly TF141, Slow burn, Cuddling, Brat! John 'Soap' Mactavish, Bottom! Soap MacTavish, Soap x Reader, Omega! Soap x Omega! Reader, Accidental voyeurism, Simon Ghost Riley x Reader, Alpha! Simon Ghost Riley x Omega! Reader, Cunnilingus, Face riding, Dom Simon Ghost Riley, Alpha traits, Handjobs, Praise kink, Threesome, Making out while getting railed, General debauchery
Masterlist
You’re sitting on Soap’s face when it happens
The other omega has coaxed you into his room after hours, slinging an arm around your shoulder in the mess at dinner and playfully nipped at your ear when the others weren’t looking. It hadn’t taken much convincing on his part, and like a schoolgirl you had been led off hand in hand with him, giggling girlishly to hide your hammering heartbeat
Hands roaming over clothes, sloppy kisses and teasing little jabs that left you hazy eyed and pouting, tangling your fingers in his mohawk to drag him closer to your parted lips. You taste his laugh there, feel his fingers tickle your sides until you squirm and smack at him playfully
He’s in a good mood tonight, you think. You’re not sure what it is, but Soap’s leering grin speaks of mischief, secrets untold that are stifled by his panting little breaths when he rolls his groin between your thighs
You’re flushed, damp with arousal by the time you’re both undressed. He hauls you up onto his chest, and you feel the smear of your slick catch against the coarse hair between his pectorals. He grazes it with lazy fingers, dips them to flick your clit in a way that makes you jerk and bend to bite at his neck in retribution
Eventually he encourages you upwards, so you hover over his face, gripping the headboard with uncertainty.
“A can take it.” He moans under you, hands fastening to your thighs as he prepares himself. “Bloody hell, hen, go on, please.”
You hesitate just a little longer to hear him whine, see his pupils dilate and eclipse his baby blue irises before lowering yourself down
It takes a few moments for you both to settle into a rhythm, and eventually you’re holding the headboard in a steel grip, chin tucked to your chest and moaning openly at Johnny’s skilled tongue
You’re so caught it in you almost don’t hear the door open
It’s only when the fluorescent light of the hallway slants across your naked form that you suck in a startled gasp, freeze atop the omega under you
Ghost.
Ghost stands in the doorway, his hand still on the knob, eyes wide under the simpler balaclava he’s wearing. He’s startled, unsure, frozen to the spot, and in his eyes you imagine your own aghast expression
It’s only then that Johnny lifts you up far enough he can peek over your thigh
“Bleedin’ Christ, Ghost. Come in an’ close the door.”
Ghost moves automatically, albeit slowly, but nevertheless obeys the other omega’s instructions. The door clicks shut behind him, and he stands a little stiffly just before it
Yet his eyes are different now. They stare, long and hard, dark pupils weighing against your skin, drinking it down greedily, silent and hungry
There’s silence for a few moments before Johnny pipes up again
“Well don’t just stand there, ya big numpty.”
Ghost moves at last, and you watch transfixed as he sheds his jacket, his boots, his gloves that reveal his bare hands. With every inch of flesh revealed to you his scent becomes thicker, washing over you in waves that makes your eyes flutter and your skin shiver
He smells like charcoal, like gun oil, like thick smoke acrid and somehow sweet against your senses. His eyes, pitched dark with desire, watch as you suck in a ragged breath and drink in the undeniable scent of alpha
“Look at you, pet.” He rumbles as he approaches the bed, not touching. Not yet. Instead his hands land on Johnny first, bare palms grazing up the thick meat of his thighs. The omega shivers under you, and as you glance over your shoulder you see the tell-tale bead of precum betraying his lust to his mate
It should feel like you’re intruding, somehow. You should excuse yourself, hasten to dress and leave. But Johnny’s hands are clenched around your thighs where you perched atop his broad chest, and when you glance at him you see a lovely rosy flush creep up his neck and towards his ears
“Johnny been treating you well, love?” Ghost asks, and you raise your eyebrows at the touch of cockiness in his tone, a pride at his mate being able to satisfy the needs of those he chooses. The suggestion of it makes your skin erupt in goosebumps, and it’s hard to speak around the sudden tightness in your throat
“Course I am.” Johnny snips when you don’t speak. “Been getting a facial on mah-”
He cuts off with a choked, surprised little groan, and when you glance back you see Ghost has his hand wrapped around the omega’s length, a thumb neatly slotted against the head.
“I wasn’t asking you, pretty boy.”
Soap whines
“Ghost…” He tries, squirming. A firm hand on his thigh keeps him still.
“Are you going to behave, Johnny?” Ghost acts, low and sinful, and you bite your lip at the sudden trickle of arousal that pools between your legs at his tone
“A-aye. I’ll be good.” Soap manages, and his hands grip your thighs a little harder when Ghost hums and drags a hand up his length in appreciation
“Good boy.”
Soap makes a little sound, and you neatly file that note away in your brain for later
Ghost moves, and then pauses, and you glance over his shoulder to see him hesitating, eyes tracing from the small of your spine up to your face
It’s electrifying, it’s breathless, it’s enough to make your thighs close a little tighter around Soap’s form under you
“You can touch me, Ghost.” You offer in a hoarse whisper, watching as his eyes focus on yours, his coal-dark stare burning into your veins. “Please.”
It seems like that was what Ghost was waiting for, was the permission he needed to touch you, unravel you
“Sweet thing.” He purrs, and you barely swallow down a noise not unsimilar to the one Johnny just made. His scent floods your senses, has your limbs loosening on instinct, heeding to the strong, capable alpha before you
His hands cup your waist, and you shiver under his touch, leaning back as he settles himself on the bed. You feel his reach to ruck up his mask to his nose, and somehow it thickens his scent even further
Broad palms splay across your skin, and you reach back to drag his face against your neck, arching submissively so he can nose at your scent gland
Ghost moans, low in his chest, and the sound is primal, hungry, absorbed in the slow, sure process of defiling you
Yet then Ghost moves, turns your head with one broad palm at an angle to press a kiss askew to your mouth, one that has you shuddering an exhale against his lips
It’s after the first contact that he moves in earnest, suckling at your lip, swiping his tongue into your mouth, a little clumsy but enthusiastic, dizzying with desire, tilting you at an angle so he can delve deeper
“Hells bells.” Soap groans, watching the display from under you. You feel his cock twitch against your ass, one hand reaching up to grope appreciatively at your breast, teasing a nipple between his fingers. When you moan into Ghost’s mouth, the alpha growls faintly, possessive, carnal, his teeth bared for just a moment against your lips
You think if you get any wetter it might start leaking off Johnny’s chest
“Bend over for me, love.” Ghost murmurs into your shoulder, and you do, pressing yourself flat so your chest squishes up against Soap’s torso. You catch sight of the omega’s eyes, a wicked, knowing smile creeping up his face. Silent. Eager.
“Just you wait.” It seems to say
His hand settles at your nape. A reassuring squeeze, and your eyes flutter in relief
Thick fingers probe at your entrance, and when you mewl Ghost lays a hand against your hip. Grounding, tender
“”Little omega.” He croons, amused, and it’s startling, the amount of affection in his tone. “Look at all this.”
Two fingers easily slip inside you, and you bury your face against Johnny’s neck in embarrassment when they squelch
“Pretty thing, isn’t she, LT?” Soap asks smugly, stroking a hand across your curved spine as you settle into presentation atop the other omega. Ghost hums an affirmative. A little dark, a touch of a growl reverberating low in his chest
Soap huffs a laugh, and gently shifts you so he can press a slow, languid kiss to your lips
“Alpha is going to take care of you now, sweetheart.” He tells you huskily, and you cling to him a touch shyly, glancing over your shoulder at Ghost with half-lidded eyes
“A-alpha…” You try weakly, feeling him spread you open curiously on his fingers. “Please…please fuck me.”
Ghost stiffens as a shudder rolls bodily through him, and swiftly you watch as he manages to fish himself out of the pants he never took off
Gods above you think, eyes widening. How is that supposed to fit?
Ghost must sense your apprehensiveness, because the hand at your hip circles in slow, gentle circles
“You can take it, pup.” Johnny murmurs into your neck, caught in rapt fascination as Ghost drags a hand up his length so precum beads at the tip “Nice and easy.”
You force yourself to relax as Ghost presses the head between your folds, steadying yourself as he slowly pushes forward
“Eyes here, love.” Ghost murmurs softly, and Johnny presses a kiss to your cheek as he braces you against his collarbone. It’s warm. Ghost can see your hazy-eyed stare as he pushes home inside you just as you let out a shuddering little gasp, eyes rolling back
“F-fuck, Ghost-” You managed, fingers digging into Johnny’s shoulders as you breathe through the electrifying sensation of fullness inside you
“Simon.” Ghost grunts, fingers on your hips, one hand pressing the small of your spine to arch you to him. “Call me Simon.”
“Simon.” You mewl, gasping wetly when he drags just the tiniest bit back before rolling his hips forward experimentally
“Doing well, sweetheart.” Soap tells you huskily, and you can only imagine how turned on he is by this, by the sight of his alpha fucking you while you splay across his chest. The mere thought of it has a pulse of arousal thundering through you, once that escapes as a lecherous groan muffled by his neck. You press yourself there, drinking in his scent with panting little breaths as Simon begins to pull back and fuck forward with firm, rolling presses
“How’s she feel, Si?” Johnny asks, and even though you don’t look you can imagine his cheeky grin at the way Simon is huffing little grunts as he sheathes himself inside you over and over
“Good.” Simon growls, and despite the curt answer you can hear how he’s becoming undone by the velvety grip of your walls, grinding you open so there’s a place for him there
The slow, sensuous rolls of his hips quickly become not enough, and soon you find yourself presses back against him, trying to fuck yourself onto his cock with gasping little whimpers
“Simon.” You manage again. “More, please, a-alpha-”
Simon’s voice is caught somewhere between a groan and a growl, but he seems happy to oblige to your request, picking up his pace with firm, precise thrusts that have you melting into Johnny beneath you
“Oh, pup, look at you.” The other omega croons, and raises you so he can press fluttering kisses against the planes of your face as your voice is reduced to mewling, keening noises with every thrust. “Taking alpha’s cock like a good little omega. So good for him.”
You whine at that, trying to find the words but finding yourself empty, puddling across his torso as Simon begins to fuck into you in earnest. One hand holds you up by your hips, presenting you to him, the other flat on your back, splayed so you can feel each finger pressing into your flesh. With every thrust he drags you to him, skin slapping skin as he ruts into you with huffing, growling little noises
You jerk with a little cry as he finally grazes that sensitive bundle of nerves inside you, and Simon pauses long enough to gently rub against it again with the head of his cock
You moan again, shivering with wrecked arousal as he hones in on it, feeling weakness pulse across your hips and the full pressure of your impending orgasm loom in the distance. Your fangs have poked out, and you try not to teeth your lip to shreds as Simon resumes his pace, aiming for your g-spot
“Oh good, good girl.” He groans as your walls flutter around him, and when you look back you see his fangs are out too, head leaning back as he loses himself, fucking forward with ragged inhales, drawing you closer to your climax
“Gonna cum, pup?” Johnny asks you, and you nod feverishly against his skin, moans stuttering as you near the peak of your desire
“S-Simon-'' You chant, trying to press back, trying to force him further inside. “I- ah, hah, I’m gonna cum, hah, hmmmng- wanna cum, please alpha-”
Simon leans over you then, presses himself to your spine so his nose presses into your nape with a deep inhale. His voice is a low, commanding growl that speaks of alpha authority, of demand and desire and carnal instinct rolled all into one
“Cum. Cum for me, little omega.”
It takes a few more thrusts but you do, you open your mouth and feel a punched-out, wrecked sound spill forth as your orgasm explodes inside you, fracturing outwards along every nerve ending, centering itself in the pulsing grip of your cunt as it ripples down the length of his cock
“Fuck, fuck-” Simon grunts above and behind you, one arm snaking under your stomach to hold you up as your legs give out, hips thrusting wildly forward before he finally presses himself deeply inside and lets himself go
Warm ropes of cum pulse inside you, and the warmth of it settles below your stomach, spilling out around his cock and he seems to cum endlessly, alpha genetics forcing himself to fill you far beyond what omegas or betas are capable of
You feel him growl, long and dark against your shoulder as you milk him dry, teething your skin in an imitation of a claiming bite
He waits until you’ve settled before pulling out, and you feel the remnants of him drip lewdly between your thighs as you shiver
“Fuck me.” Soap groans under you, and it’s only then that you realize how tight he’s holding you. “Fucking hell, LT, you’ve ruined her.”
“Only in the best of ways.” Simon chuckles with a rasp, soothing a hand up your spine. “You alright, pup?”
You roll your head so you can look at him, smiling dolly, body heavy and sated. “I’m good, I’m really good.” You tell him hoarsely, before sighing into Johnny’s chest
“We’re not done.”
You blink at that, brow scrunching as you try to ask him what he means, before Soap jerks under you with a sharp cry
“B-bloody hell, Simon, give a man some warning before you- oh, shite-”
You watch, entranced as Simon drags his hand up Soap’s flushed cock with little preamble, pausing long enough to collect slick from the other omega’s dripping hole before resuming his ministrations.
Any other wry comment Soap has to offer quickly erases to nothing as the alpha quickly fists his mate’s cock. Soap squirms under you, offering keening little whines and pleas as Ghost quickly draws him towards a fast paced, unstoppable orgasm
“S-Si please, yes, fuck-” He groans. “Fuck, feels good, oh God-”
The schlick schlick schlick of Simon’s hand pulses low within you, somehow reignites the flame of desire that had burned to embers. You press it into Johnny’s lips with a kiss, feeling how he pants into your open mouth, fangs gently scraping against your flesh
“C-close-” He rasps, arching under you so his hips buck up into Simon’s hand. “J-just a little more- God, God-”
“That’s it, Johnny.” Simon purrs, pleased. “Go on and cum for me.”
Soap lets loose with a muffled shout, his head bent forward into you as he arches and shoots himself all across Simon’s hand and your lower back, cock twitching as his orgasm punches through him. You can tell it’s intense by the way his voice trails off to a long, lingering whine, hips stuttering as Simon works him through it
“Beautiful, Johnny.” You smile, happy to return the favor of his mild teasing, and Johnny manages something between a gasp and a laugh, raising you enough to throw an arm over his face
Simon moves his weight off the bed then, and when you glance up you see he’s vanished in the direction of the bathroom, returning shortly with a washcloth to wipe the mess of fluids from your forms
Before he can finish you gently reach for him, coax him into the bed with you. He obliges, shuffles so you’re all laying on your sides pressed together. Him, his two precious omegas, and you between the men who have decided to keep you
You think you should say something, should speak a few words of thanks, of endearments, of something to show your affection and appreciation for these two men, but no words seem to be quite right for the fluttering happiness in your chest, safely ensconced in their embraces
Instead you find Simon’s hand, raise it so you press a kiss into his knuckles, listen to him release a breath before fully sinking into you. Johnny grazes your face, smiles tenderly with his beautiful blue eyes before lifting himself to kiss your forehead
You’re safe here, protected, comforted by these two men who will someday become your mates. You think you know how the story ends, in this moment, know someday you’ll see it unfurl in all of its stunning, prismatic color
Taglist:
(Please have an 18+ or similar age disclaimer in your bio to be tagged in this fic)
@alicesfracturedmirror @emrzennn @scatter-mind001 @josieguts @angryvengeful @ramadiiiisme @mutuallimbenclosure @waves-against-a-cliff @sunnynomoar @miyabilicious @piratesfromspace @sofasoap @soapskneebrace @writeforfandoms @waltzthegenderfluidpan @ghosts-goldendoodle @cherrycoloredfunk86 @lostagoodcigar @tbrfic @appleschloss @tizylish @misshoneypaper @kkinky @reaper-chan666 @kenma-izhu @shinebright2000 @zalyluvvs @neoarchipelago @essencse @dankest-farrik @mirthlxss @bi-witch-bxtch @tallmanlover @vinithechocolatevampire @blackcat9091 @tiredmetalenthusiast @tizylish @miyabilicious @secretliteradite @ghosts-goldendoodle @angryvengeful @miraclesabound @lostagoodcigar @wolfyland07 @beebeechaos @kait-is-always-late @rv3rblog @cr3ampuffed @lazyninjaphilosopher @capawtine @sofasoap @cathnoneofyourbusiness @whynotbad @fake-id-69 @mememe7147 @thriving-n-jiving @urfavsunkissedleo
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#soapghost x reader#soap x reader#ghost x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#Simon ghost riley x reader#cod omegaverse#omegaverse#my fic#my writing
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hii! saw your post so im here to request some fluff :3 how about some sleepy morning cuddles w poly soapghost x m!reader?? thank you!
Warmth of the Sun and a Ghost
Pairing: Poly!SoapGhost x Male Reader
Word Count: 550
Masterlist
The sun pouring through the curtains forced you out of your sleep. You groaned, trying to force your face further into the back of the neck of the man in front of you, arms squeezing around his waist tighter than they were before. You heard a mirrored groan from in front of you and an annoyed sigh followed.
“Would you two let me up?” Ghost grumbles. He’d been stuck in between yourself and Soap last night. You got to sleep behind him, wrapped against his body while Soap nestled under Ghost’s chin. It was a strange position for him to be in, since he was generally the first one up out of the three of you while yourself and Soap liked to stay in bed for just a moment longer.
“C’mon, Si. Give us a few more minutes,” Soap’s voice was muffled as he buried his face back into the front of Ghost’s neck. “Yer warm.”
Ghost huffed but didn’t try to move to get out from in between the two of you. You pressed your lips against the back of Ghost’s neck, pressing a short kiss to it. “Do you want up?” You ask, ignoring the whine of protest Soap gave.
You heard Ghost let out another breath before me mumbled out a no. He felt you smile against the back of his neck and Soap smirk against the front of it. A grumble vibrated in his throat as you and Soap wrapped back around him.
Soap was right, Ghost was warm. He felt like a furnace even through the fabric of his shirt. It was something you'd grown to adore and on cold nights, you found yourself almost engulfing the man in bed.
Your hand slipped under the tshirt Ghost was wearing to rest on his skin. You heard him sigh quietly as you rubbed into the skin just above his hip. “Johnny’s right,” you murmur, slipping your hand over his side to rest on his stomach. “You’re warm.”
Soap’s hand joined yours on Ghost’s tummy and you heard his giggle catch in his throat. Ghost’s tummy twitched under your fingers and he let out a sigh when you trailed it further up his shirt to rest on his chest. Soap wrapped his arm around Ghost’s waist to rest his hand on the lieutenant’s back with a quiet hum of content.
You’d be hard pressed to get Ghost to admit he enjoyed being squished between both of his two boyfriends. He loved having you pressed against his back, your legs tangled with his and your arm wrapped around his waist. Loved feeling Soap curled up against his front, hands fisted into Ghost’s shirt with his head tucked comfortably under the man’s chin.
Ghost let out a quiet breath as you peppered soft kisses along the back of his neck before he rolled over enough to press a few short kisses to your lips with a low hum. When Ghost pulled back, Soap sat up to kiss you, cupping your face to bring you closer to him.
These lazy mornings were rare, even rarer for Ghost to stay with the both of you. The three of you let the early morning sun warm your bodies for a long while, simply enjoying the presence of the other two in bed.
#cod mw2 x male reader#cod mw2 x reader#soapghost x male reader#poly relationship#soapghost x reader#cod mwii x reader#cod mwii x male reader#soap x male reader#ghost x male reader#fluff#morning cuddles#grahhh i love men
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Okay I’ve never really been inspired to write y/n fic, as much as I love to read it sometimes, so someone else please take this idea and run, but…
Soap who has a girl he goes to, when he’s on leave. It’s not a relationship, nothing so solid as that, but they have a sort of agreement and enjoy each others company. It scratches an itch, for the both of them. But as Soap and Ghost get closer, Ghost confides in Soap that he hasn’t been with anyone in a while, has always struggled to find anyone he can trust enough to do so.
‘Would you trust me?’ Soap says, and has to dodge a punch before he stutters out an explanation.
‘Not like that, man! I just mean I know someone, and if I’m there, maybe you can relax enough to have a good time.’
Ghost reluctantly agrees. Soap swears his girl is trustworthy, and a fantastic lay as well, and if Johnny’s gonna be there…
So, ghost finds himself awkwardly being introduced to you, and hell, soap was right, you are gorgeous, and have a sharp wit about you, and he likes the carefully concealed knife under your skirt. ‘Not military, she’s just been around.’ Johnny had explained, and when the night wears on and he suddenly finds you, bare and gasping for it underneath him, Johnny’s cock splayed across your face like it’s a dinner plate, he’s not mad in the slightest.
He has a good time. The problem is, you’re too god damn observant.
You start to notice how much ghost is looking at your John just as much as he’s looking at you. At first you think it must be a security thing, John explained the situation, a bit, but no, you think as you keep watching in between mind-blowing orgasms. No, the big bad masked man shredding your walls into next Tuesday has got it bad for your Scottish lad.
You don’t blame him, Johnny would be a real catch if he was ever in one place for more than a week. But god, the way he’s looking at him with those big brown eyes, it’s like he’s not wearing a mask at all. You don’t quite understand how John doesn’t see it, until you look up and over John’s frankly ridiculous cock and see him looking back at Ghost with the same dopey expression.
What a pair of idiots. Guess you’ll just have to give them a push.
Etc etc, y/n makes them realize their love and they are eternally grateful to her! Give her the fuck of her life every now and again when they’re in town :) she’s in soap’s wedding party when they get married, and gives a speech that has even the green berets blushing crimson. everyone wins!
#this is free reign just tag me so I can read it if you do anything like this#cause I would LOVE to read it#soapghost#ghostsoap#fic suggestions#my writing#ghost x soap#ghoap x reader#ghoap#soapghost x reader#cod mwii#codmw2
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Trying very hard to finish this last chapter of Listening In to post this weekend. I may faint
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Across The Way
Ch. 2: And So It Begins
Retired!Ghoap x fem!plus size!Reader
MDNI
Ao3 | Previous - Next
Word Count: 2.6k
Summary: You go to Scotland with high hopes for your future. After all, you have the bakery you always dreamed of and a whole new life to live. Plus, the men who own the butcher’s shop across the street seem nice.
A/N: I got this out a lot faster than I thought I would. Hopefully my work doesn’t get too insane and I can get the next out in a timely manner - it’s going to be a bigger one!
“You were right.” Simon carefully cuts through the loaf with a serrated knife. He’s never lost his skill with them, despite their uses becoming increasingly more domestic over the years. It’s charming, in a way - the juxtaposition of where they started and where they are now.
“Right about whit?” Johnny asks.
“She is a pretty little thing.”
“Donnae tell me I need tae be worried about ye sneakin’ off at work.” He jokes. Simon would never, of course, but it’s fun to see the way his cheeks heat up at the implication. Without his mask he wears every expression with reckless abandon.
Simon settles his large frame into the seat across from Johnny at the dining table. It’s small, they don’t need much. The chairs always creak under Simon’s weight in an almost threatening fashion. He pushes a plate with two pieces of the bread and some eggs over to Johnny. There’s an odd tug in his chest when he picks up the slice - an urge to be gentle as he spreads butter over it. Gentility is not a compulsion he feels often.
“S’good.” Simon mutters around his bite.
Johnny nods along after taking one himself. There’s love in it - he can tell. A piece carefully crafted with only absolute perfection in mind. How strange that food can carry such a feeling.
“Was a wee bit worried we’d be stuck across from the nicest, worst baker in the world.” He mutters.
Simon huffs out a half laugh.
~~~
Your first week goes by in a blur. For a small town they sure do manage to keep you busy. It’s good, you remind yourself. Better than none. If you keep it up at this rate you’ll be able to hire help by the end of the summer quarter.
By Monday, the first day of your “weekend”, you’re overdone. Head dizzy and body exhausted, you spend the day in bed. It’s a gratifying exhaustion, one you hope to build more of a tolerance for. As of now, though, you elect to remain deeply buried under the covers.
When you wake for a second time the sun is already near setting again. The entirety of Monday slunk by with you in bed. You grumble to yourself angrily like an old man. You wanted to unpack today - to at least get your clothes and kitchen items put away.
“Stupid.” You grouse. At least you still have time to shower, you suppose.
As you stand the world blacks out for a moment, your body swaying in place. You allow yourself to fall back on the bed, sitting while your vision slowly comes back into focus. Blinking away black dots and off squiggles that dance across your eyes. On attempt number two you manage it, making your way to the bathroom.
The work is worth it. The pain is worth it.
This is what you always wanted, after all.
You are happy. You can feel it in your bones. They’re lighter than they used to be - your whole body thrums with excited energy even as you have to lower yourself with the upmost care into the shower seat. Even as you have to scrape one of the cheap fold out chairs you managed to get over to the stove while you cook a late night dinner. Thank god for low counters.
When you were arranging your schedule it took a while to get it perfected. To compensate for your body you have to have time to rest and be able to do a lot of baking preparation before the work week starts. Monday and Tuesday are for rest. Wednesdays are for prep. The shop is closed but you’re in the back working your ass off mixing and kneading and shaping doughs. As well as practicing new recipes you want to add to the store’s line up eventually. Your goal is to sell American biscuits, preferably in batches of six, but those take a lot of work and don’t keep as long. They’ll have to wait until you have hired help.
It’s all chance and whatever you can manage to make happen. You learned to be okay with that, though.
You’ve got plenty of spoons, you tell yourself. Just need to use them wisely.
When you finally close the fridge, now fully stocked with dough ready to proof and bake, you check the clock. It’s still the early afternoon. You finished sooner than you assumed you might. The thought makes you giddy - makes you feel accomplished.
It makes you feel normal.
As you exit into the warm spring sun you take a moment. Ever since you arrived you haven’t been able to just stop. To just take everything in - let the foreign air fill your lungs and the aura of the town sink into your bones.
It’s a lovely little main street that you’re located on. The building to your left is a large family owned pharmacy (very convenient for you) and to your right is an empty brick building. It looks like a former post office, but from what you know the current post office is a few blocks down beside the grocers. It’s quaint, the lot of it.
Your eyes settle on the shop across from yours housed in a simple brick building painted white. The upstairs is an apartment much like yours, you think, but from what you know it currently remains empty. The sign above the door reads A Cut Above the Rest. You wonder if that was Simon or Johnny’s doing.
Would it be weird to go in? You suppose not, after all they came to yours. It’s only fair you give them some patronage as well. Plus you need to ask how the bread was. Hopefully they liked it - you realized halfway through the night that you didn’t even ask if they like sourdough before shoving it into their hands.
That thought kept you up later than you’d like to admit.
You look both ways down the street. This particular spot doesn’t have a crosswalk but the road is so dead even when the downtown is busy you figure it’s worth risking. The lack of danger doesn’t stop you from fast-walking across, though.
The shop’s old-fashioned door bell chimes prettily as you push it open. For a butcher it smells extremely clean - almost clinical. It’s small, with an L shaped display counter and a register at the end nearest the door. Packages of sausage links and the like hang on displays across the back wall. Beside the wooden saloon doors that lead behind the counter is a little dog bed with a very well crafted name plate reading Riley hanging right above it.
So cute.
“Afternoon.” Simon appears from the back, wiping his hands on a rag. You jump a little, so lost in taking in your surroundings you forgot what you came here for.
“H-hi!” You smile. You forgot how intimidating Simon is. His gaze levels you - pins you underneath him like a fly under a swatter. Maybe that’s a bit dramatic. “I thought I’d come check your shop out and ask how the bread was?”
“It was good.” He replies bluntly. Totally monotone. The corners of his eyes crinkle ever so slightly. You decide that’s it’s a smile - whether that’s the reality of his expression or not.
“It’s really nice in here.” You look around. There isn’t much for decoration. The walls are too covered in menus and diagrams of cuts to leave room for anything extra. There’s a shelf of odds and ends opposite the main counter full of high end mustards and condiments. Little things to go with whatever you could think to make out of the varieties of meat they offer.
“Thanks.” Simon nods. “One moment.”
You watch with curiosity and a slight frown as he makes his way into the back. He almost has to duck under the doorway. Old buildings with low ceilings and all that. The place definitely wasn’t made with a six foot plus behemoth in mind. You continue to look around, rocking back and forth on your heels. They have a perfect score on their inspectors plaque. You might not know Simon well, but he seems the type to be absolutely precise about everything. The score doesn’t surprise you.
Yours is almost perfect - some rules are different here than in the US. Next time, you swear you’ll get it top notch! You look across the street at your shop. You wonder if you made the wrong choice with The Honey Bun. It’s bit much now that you see it from afar but it still makes you smile. That’s what matters, you guess.
Simon comes back out with a small, nicely wrapped package. “You don’t ‘ave any dietary restrictions d’you?”
You shake your head and he pushes the package toward you. Your eyes widen - it’s a great cut of high end beef. Like, really good beef as far as you know. Something you’d never be able to afford even if your business wasn’t brand new. You stare between Simon and the little pack in your hands. “Th-this is so nice but I-“
“It’s only fair.” He cuts you off. “Neighbors, yeah?”
You can’t help the grin that splits your face, eyes misting up despite yourself. Kindness has not been a constant in your life - more of a rarity. Something you had to claw and fight to earn. Being given it so freely but such a taciturn man has you reeling just a bit.
“Thank you… I’ve got to head back but, uh, thank you. Really.” You press the small package to your chest. “Tell Johnny I said hi?”
“Course.” He nods.
“Thanks again!” You grin, giving a little two finger salute before practically skipping all the way back into your dingy little apartment. Happily, you pack away the meat to use later. It’s too nice to just make any dish out of - best to save it for a special occasion. Your first gift in your new life. Best to savor it.
~~~
“Afternoon, bonnie.” Johnny appears in your doorway while you sweep up from the Saturday rush, bell chiming upon his entrance. “Hope I’m not a bother.”
“Not at all.” You smile, resting the broom on the counter. “Hello to you as well, Miss Riley.”
She huffs out a quiet bark in reply, sitting dutifully at Johnny’s feet. You don’t have much experience with service dogs - other than the well known rule not to pet them while they’re working. They were always too expensive for you to get and your condition wasn’t labeled serious enough to warrant financial aid. (Despite the fact that you can, and have, passed out and hit your head on something hard.)
“Can I get you something?” You ask.
“Och, I’m a’right. Just wanted tae stop by an’ say hello before headin’ home.” He gives you that dashing, bright grin. “Simon always kicks me out of the shop at close.”
“He doesn’t need help?” You ask. Surely cleaning up a butchers shop is a huge task. You have your work cut out for you with all the flower - you can’t imagine cleaning that amount of blood and mess.
Johnny shrugs. “The cleaning chemicals trigger my migraines.”
You hum. “Well, you’re always welcome to stop by. Actually,” you turn on your heel, “I’ve got somethin’ I’d like you to try, if you want.”
“Never one to say no to food. Especially from a pretty girl.” Johnny says as he follows. He tells Riley to stay in front and she listens - the perfect little lady that she is. You nearly trip at his comment, keeping your back turned so that he hopefully doesn’t see the heat spreading from your face and down your neck.
“I-it’s, uh, you ever had American biscuits?” You ask, praying he doesn’t notice the shake in your voice. You have to get on your tip toes to reach the small basket you made the day prior - carefully lowering it and pulling back the gingham cloth you wrapped them in.
An image of home.
“Aye, had them once on a layover at some chain diner.” He nods. “Donnae think they were fresh, though.”
“Well these are proper biscuits.” You carefully cut one in half with ease. “Sometime I’ll have to make you some gravy to go with.”
“Yer gonnae make us fat, hen.” Johnny chuckles.
“There are worse things to be.” The words come out more defensive than you would have liked. An automatic mechanism - a harshness you've honed over the years.
You hate how easily you wield it, sometimes.
Johnny leans forward over the table, a furrow in his brow. “I dinnae mean-“
“Here.” You cut him off and hold out the biscuit on a napkin, smothered with butter in the middle.
Johnny lets your interruption go. Probably happy for an out. He takes the fluffy baked good slowly, cupping it in his large hand with care. You wonder if he always does that, touches things with such gentle love. Is it learned? Is it just natural to him? Does he touch Simon like that? Gentle caresses?
What’s that like?
Johnny takes a massive, enthusiastic bite. Somehow his blue eyes manage to sparkle even more, grinning as he chews. “Sh’gew!”
You laugh at his attempt to talk around the food. “Glad you like it.”
He swallows roughly. A full body gulp. “Why’d ye start bakin’ anyway?”
“My grandparents raised me.” You fold the biscuits back up in their little basket. “My grandma taught me how. She was the best in town - won the pie contest almost every year.”
“Tha’s lovely.” The smile he gives you is so genuine it makes your chest constrict.
“Mean old bat but she could beat anyone in the kitchen.” You laugh. “We swore she had some kinda magic. Like a green thumb but for cooking.”
“My mum’s like tha’. Can make anythin’ out of nothin’.” He nods along.
You fall into an easy back and forth - never breaching anything deeper than the most surface level of content as he eats. It’s manageable. Johnny doesn’t push and neither do you.
Riley barks from the front of the shop.
“Och, tha’s my queue.” Johnny brushes off his hands and checks the front of his shirt for crumbs. “Take care, aye?”
You smile. “You too.”
~~~
Johnny’s words keep ringing in your ears. You don’t know why. It’s nothing special. There’s no reason to attach to them. You raise a hand to wipe off the fog and stare in the small mirror hung above your bathroom sink.
Pretty girl.
You scoff. You’re not a pretty girl. You’ve never been a pretty girl. Fat girl. Stupid girl. Sick girl. Tired girl. Sad girl.
That last one you’ve heard more than anything else. Out of all the descriptors of you it stands out as the most used. By everyone from teachers to your own family. Always just a sad, sad girl.
You got it from your mom, they’d say. It’s not like you would ever know.
You rip your eyes away from the mirror and try to let the thoughts melt away as you sink into the comfort of your blankets. Those thoughts live back on the other side of the Atlantic. They don’t get to follow you here.
#simon ghost riley#call of duty#john soap mactavish#ghost cod#cod x reader#fanfiction#fanfic#ghost x reader#cod#ghoap x reader#ghoap#ghostsoap#plus size reader#fat reader#reader insert#slow burn#reader has pots#soapghost x reader#johnny soap mactavish#simon x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#I’m so pumped for the next chapter you have no fucking clue babes
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