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#but ever since I was a little lass
trashcanmeat · 2 months
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Little durgetash sketch? As a treat?
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cerise-on-top · 4 months
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Haiii! I love your work :D
Could you possibly do a gaz x reader? When him and reader are celebrating their anniversary:), that would be really cute :’))
Hello! Thank you, I hope this is enjoyable as well! I went with a more fluffy route this time, I just wanna see Gaz happy and healthy and as far aways from any and all danger as possible! This request was really cute, I love Gaz! I'm glad there are several of us who do! Though I think I went a bit overboard with this, but how could I not when people are requesting best boi!
Celebrating Your Anniversary with Gaz
For the sake of this request, we’re gonna go with the idea that Gaz was able to be with you during your anniversary and didn’t end up being somewhere in the world, having to fight tooth and nail for his survival. We’re gonna go the fluffy route with this!
His memory is really good, Gaz would never forget something as important as your anniversary. Doesn’t matter if you’re together, doesn’t matter if you’re married. He has it memorized, he wrote it down on his phone, he noted it on several loose papers lying around just about anywhere. Trust me when I say he’s the last person to ever forget something like this. Although he would appreciate it if you remembered as well, he’d probably love it even more if, just once, you forgot about your anniversary, that way he could properly surprise and absolutely spoil you rotten. He wants to make your anniversaries days you can remember, so he will tailor them to your liking. You like going to arcades or amusement parks? A bookshop date? You just wanna go to McDonald’s? It’s all yours, and don’t you dare even think about paying, your wallet will not be strained on such a holy and sublime day.
The day would start off simple. You’d sleep in, if you can, cuddling for as long as possible, until one of you needs to get up for whatever reason. He’ll nuzzle into you, holding you as close to him as possible. He wants you to feel his warmth, how alive you make him feel, he wants you to feel how his heart beats for you and only you. Gaz has a beautiful voice, it’s fairly low and very calming to listen to. He’d hum your favorite tune that’s a bit calmer. He wants you to be as relaxed for him as possible, maybe even fall asleep in his arms again, even if he definitely wouldn’t mind you staying up to chat a bit with him as well. He’s gonna be all over you, making sure to touch you wherever he can so you feel secure with him. And when you’re drifting off to sleep again, that’s when his plan begins.
Gaz will plant a kiss on your neck or your forehead, whatever he can reach as he excuses himself to the bathroom. However, this sly dog will actually head for the kitchen to make you some breakfast. He’s a good cook, so whatever it is you like, he’ll make it. French toast? Scrambled eggs? Eggs and bacon? Your wish is his command, even if you never uttered a single order. He just hopes you won’t wake up or, even if you do, will at the very least stay in bed. This breakfast isn’t for you to enjoy in the kitchen or the living room, you’re to eat it in your bed. He even got you a nice tray so he can carry it to you without making a mess. Orange juice and all. You will be spoiled.
It’s then that he’ll wake you with another soft kiss to your temple, maybe shaking you awake a bit, so you can enjoy your breakfast together. Might even feed you a bit, just to be embarrassingly cute while he’s at it. The more content you look, the better. Afterwards, he’ll leave for the kitchen again, putting the tray away and decorating the living room a bit. There will be the most gorgeous roses you’ve ever seen in a vase, alongside several other flowers, each of which tells of a different kind of adoration. And when you finally follow suit and spot the flowers, he’ll just smile and claim that they looked very pretty. If you understand flower language, then you can tell he just really wanted to say he loved you in as many different ways as he could.
It’s then that he’ll ask you to get ready for the day, to brush your teeth and hair, and put on some clothes. You don’t need to look particularly fancy, he wants you to be as comfortable as you could possibly be. This is when he’ll take you to a place you like which, as mentioned before, could be just about anything. Waterpark, roller skate rink or just a lovely walk in the park, he’s open for everything. You will be accommodated accordingly. Those places are where you’ll be spending the majority of your day, grabbing something simple to eat for the time being, such as some fries or maybe some toast at a good cafe or pub.
When day meets night, he’ll take your hand in his, taking you to a fancy restaurant you’ve been to a few times. Preferably one where the both of you can look down at the city and see all the beautiful lights it has to offer. You’ll spend another two hours or so there. At the very least, you’ll be there until it gets dark, eating good food, having a good drink, maybe some wine as well. It doesn’t matter what you choose, all Gaz wants is to see the twinkling city lights dance in your eyes afterwards. When the evening is starting to roll over into night, he’ll take you to a ferris wheel. A big one where you can see the entire city from.
He’ll watch you as you excitedly look everywhere, taking in as many sights as you can, hoping that the ferris wheel stops at just the right time. Ideally, that would be right at the top. But he won’t be too picky if it’s somewhat to the side as well. As long as he gets to see your mouth agape at all the pretty lights, he’s content. While the ferris wheel stops, he’ll shoot his shot. If you’ve been together for a few years but aren’t married yet, he’ll propose to you. If you’re already married, he’ll still get down on one knee, take your hand in his and kiss its back tenderly, like a knight in shining armor. It’s embarrassingly sweet, but he knows no one but you is going to see it, so he does it anyway. You’re royalty in his eyes, you’re his to protect and care for, and he needs to show his loyalty however he can. Once he’s done kissing your hand, he’ll get up, holding your hand still and pulling you up with him, just so he can hold you close once again. Another tender kiss to your lips, and then he’ll get out a small box. Either the proposal ring or, if you’re married already, he’ll gift you a lovely little necklace made of pure silver. Something you can wear that will always remind you of him.
Once you’re down on the ground again, he’ll take your hand in his and lead you home, conversing with you about how much he loves you, how happy he is to have you in his life and how he hopes he gets to spend many, many more years like that with you.
If it’s not too late yet, you might watch a movie and cuddle on the couch. But you’ll likely both be tuckered out after today and just snuggle up in bed, ready for the next day.
And this is how Gaz’ ideal anniversary would go.
#cod#cod x reader#kyle gaz garrick#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#I wish I could gift Gaz a small music box that plays “You Are My Sunshine” I think that would be a cute gift#I have a music box that plays “Over The Rainbow” which I think is also very sweet#I think I might wanna start collecting music boxes they're just so very lovely#now that's a hobby I can also get behind! a lovely little tune that could calm down just about anyone!#maybe even put someone to sleep as well#I still remember one of the first things I ever wrote and posted here. The Batter and the Music Box#I wish I had the time to write something like that for my favorite lads and lasses as well#whew this is almost 1.300 words long which is surprising since I wanted to go for 800-ish#but I read Gaz and my brain short circuited he was my favorite when watching the campaign#I did start watching the mw reboot for him and Valeria but I stayed for him and Valeria#mw1 was the best one out of the three in my opinion. and now I'm watching the og mw when I can :-)#og Soap and Ghost are a funny little duo. I love the little hackerman Ghost so much! though I wanna know where the joke of him breaking#so many laptops came from! it's cute but I always thought he was good with technology :o either way I like to imagine talking about IT#stuff with everyone and being good at it and helping them! IT is fun I like it a lot :-)#either way thank you for the request! this one was also an absolute delight to write! love me some good natured fluff and Gaz :D
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thepleasurablemushu · 29 days
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Do you knoooooow how many years i have spent waiting for the moment where i could draw a semi realistic pretty anime boy 😭
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tojisun · 6 months
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not even lying but i couldn’t stop thinking about biker!simon ever since 😭
just imagine biker!simon at the bar with his friends, lounging, waiting for the time to run because after this little after-work drinks, he’s going to drive home to your place. his attention is split between his phone and the chatter of his friends, laughing in bursts at whatever embarrassing thing mactavish is recounting, before turning back to reading the message you sent.
> wearin ur shirt tonight <33
his lips curl in a smile and his heart flutters at how cute you truly are. he types out a response, licking the back of his teeth at the thought of coming home to see you in his shirt, when the chatter dies down in the group.
he catalogues the change, swiftly shutting his phone off before tipping his head up to assess what caused the shift in the mood, only for his eyes to land on a small group of women hovering by their table.
“uh, how can we help you lasses?” johnny, ever the gentleman, asks.
while one of them does respond to johnny, another slides into the empty space beside simon with a giggle.
“hey,” she trills, batting her lashes at him.
simon’s hand tightens around his bourbon, the quiet satisfaction that filled him up throughout the night dissipating. he nods in acknowledgment before turning back to his phone, seeing that there was no immediate danger for him to focus on.
ignoring his obvious lack of interest, she wraps her hand around his wrist and tugs hard enough that simon has to turn his attention back to her. he does so with a sigh.
“it’s so stuffy here,” she says, fanning herself, her eyes drawn onto the helmet he stupidly brought with him inside the bar. she presses close, rubbing her tits along his inked arm. “wanna take me out for a ride?”
simon snatches his arm from her hold, his face pinching in irate. “no, not interested.”
she pouts, cheeks flushing and simon wonders how much of it was because of the alcohol and how much of it was because of shame. he flicks his eyes up to the rest of the group, narrowing his eyes at the unabashed glee in johnny’s face at seeing simon be cornered by someone who can’t take a fucking clue, before shooting a betrayed glare at price and garrick who are choosing to ignore him.
the girl’s friends are now left sitting awkwardly, watching as their friend flounders for simon’s attention – something he’d never give, anyway.
“c’mon, big boy,” said friend croons, twirling her hair. “don’t wanna take a sweetheart for a drive?”
simon sighs, done for the night. “again, not interested," he replies. "'sides, i’ve got the sweetest darling waiting for me at home. i don’t want you, miss.”
and with that, he stands up, snatching his helmet from the table and nodding his goodbyes to his friends. he doesn’t stay long enough to hear her sputter or watch her storm off because simon’s already out the door and walking to the parking lot.
he wears his helmet and slides his gloves on, before fishing for his phone to finally send you that text that he had been wanting to send.
See you soon, sweetheart. <
pocketing his phone, simon finally hefts himself up onto his bike and kickstarts the engine, the machine purring underneath him. he adjusts his helmet, zips up his jacket, before caressing the embroidered letters on his gloves. he traces the initials of your name, feeling his heart fluttering, and brings his gloved knuckles to brush his lips against them.
snapping the visor down, simon revs up the engine and drives off, his thoughts full of nothing but you.
(ext02.) (ext.03) // mlist!
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ceilidho · 2 months
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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 3; ghoap x reader) part 1, part 2
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“What is this anyway—‘bring your girlfriend to work’ day?”
She’s snarky as ever, but with an agitated edge. Nerves prickling when Johnny holds her jacket out for her to slip her arms into. Even that makes her snap—something about not being a toddler that Johnny needs to help dress, but by then his head is in the clouds. In another place altogether. 
The prospect of getting to parade his new girl around leaves him giddy, fox-like grin hard to squash. He doesn’t suppress anything, finds it hard to push things down. When he does, it’s often unconscious. 
She doesn’t like the way he savours her anxiety like a fine wine, sniffs it from the top of her head and groans out his breath, cackling when she tries to stomp on his foot to make him go away. He dances away with her coat, light and nimble on his feet because he’s used to ducking and weaving for her affection. 
“The guys wanna meet ye,” he repeats for the umpteenth time. It’s surprising how many times he’s had to say it. 
“Why? Haven’t they ever met a girl before?” she gripes, swallowing now, her stomach probably cramping and poor bonnie lass, Johnny thinks. His poor, pretty girl is trying to put on a brave face when he knows she prefers being in the backroom of her little flower shop, snipping off stalks and tying pretty bows around pretty bouquets. He wishes he could keep her back there forever—put a lock on the door and come only to smother her in kisses and gorge himself on every inch of her—but there’s a whole wide world demanding his attention. 
“Aye, hen, never a lass as cute and sweet as ye,” he crows, ducking a hand that punches through the sleeve of her jacket in his direction. 
In the car, he drops the facade. Loses his teasing edge. It’s a violent removal, like jolting awake to the sound of someone sawing away at a catalytic converter. If his smile is saccharine, it’s really only a smokescreen concealing the apprehension bubbling away in his belly. 
He drums his fingers on the steering wheel on the drive back to base. Heart in his throat, choking his words and rendering him quiet for once in his life. He hears Ghost’s voice in his head, a low rumbling laugh, tectonic plates shifting beneath his feet. These days, his voice acts as a lodestar, the thing steering Johnny home. 
Months ago, it was the only thing between him and annihilation, the ice cold maelstrom dragging him deeper into its maw. Guiding him through the valley of death. The wound in his arm still aches in the first light of day. His sleep is still wracked by dreams of running down alleys and ducking into houses, the rain pattering against the window panes ominous, a ticking clock, each step having to be precise, calculated, each movement quieter than quiet, fading into the shadows, a cool heart and mind bested by agony from the bulletwound in his shoulder.
And then—Ghost’s voice, low and soothing in his ear, shattering the pain. Ghost’s voice in his ear telling him where to go, how to survive. 
It’s hard to explain. Johnny’s tried. It’s like talking in circles when he opens his mouth and tries to get it out. I trust him with everything in me. He could do anything to me, anything. 
He is no less capable, no less competent. His rank demands respect, and he takes what’s due to him. Since Las Almas, he’s worked across a medley of other teams, even solo a time or two. It changes nothing. He still wakes in a sweat, chasing that voice. It takes him back into the real world. The days burn into the fringes of a memory that he is always living.
“Should I know anyone’s name before we get there?”
Her voice breaks through the noise in his head this time. It’s every bit as precious. 
“What d’ye mean, hen?” he asks, clucking his tongue. Sweats a bit when he realizes how far down the motorway they are now, how long it’s been since he checked out, lost in his thoughts. One hand rests loose on her leg, fingers spread wide and thumb gliding up and down her outer thigh, the other still holding the wheel. 
The pinched look has mostly fallen off from her face, but there’s still a tremble in her lower lip when she says, “Well, I don’t know any of your friends. I wouldn’t introduce you to my friends without telling you their names first.”
“No’ my friends, hen—we’re coworkers.”
She looks over at him from the corner of her eye. “I’m friends with my coworkers.”
Johnny shrugs. “It’s no’ the same with guys. Couldnae tell you fuck all about any of them except their names, to be honest.”
“Oh, don’t give me that—you’re not friends with a single one of them? No one?”
No hunger without resistance. His mouth goes bone dry. He’d be wise to learn that. 
He swallows. “Maybe a few.”
No transaction without accountability. Ghost saves his life and now Johnny has to pay that debt back tenfold. Sinking into the crease of Simon’s voice late at night, clutching it to his chest. Breathing it out. Maybe they are friends. 
He’s a bit show-offy at the base gates, dangling his ID card out the window pinched between two fingers. The civilian guard on duty just waves him on, scanning it only for the sake of the logs. His tires spin in the dirt when he guns it down the stretch of road leading into the base, windows still all the way down. Her hair whips around in the wind until she gathers it all up in her fist and shrieks at him to roll the windows up. 
Johnny enjoys showing off. That’s a core aspect of who he is, his charm. Braggadocious, confident in the way he looks, his physical prowess, his lot in life—so why would that change with his girl? He holds her close with an arm around her waist when he drags her through the rec centre, the building closest to where they parked. 
He gets lost in conversation for longer than expected. Pure gloating about the girl he’s managed to bag. Cooing in her ear when he feels her get a bit uneasy, still timid around the other guys despite having him at her side. He supposes that’s fair. She’s more comfortable around the women on base, a bit freer with her greeting and questions, but there’s still a pinch in her brow that never smooths all the way over.
It takes a while to find anyone that he knows. There are plenty of sergeants and corporals that he’s worked with before, familiar faces and names, but Johnny still glances around the room while they make light conversation with his girl, searching. Looking for something familiar, something that’ll reel him in, make him perk up like a dog catching a scent. 
They cross Gaz in a random hallway on the way to the comm centre, hardly recognizable at first with the darker stubble of his beard grown out. He must’ve just come back from wherever he’d been shipped off to the month previous, no time to shave or clean up. He even smells of old sweat when Johnny leans in for a hug. 
“Is this—?” Gaz glances over at her just once while the question dangles in the air. He looks back over at Johnny. 
They lock eyes. A silent exchange of meaning. 
“Aye,” Johnny nods, steering her in front of him with both hands on her shoulders, showing his girl off like a kid with a new toy. Eyes glinting like, don’t say a word. “Brought her in to meet everyone.”
A molasses slow smile spreads across Gaz’s face. It’s clear why men like him always get the girl. Johnny’s hands tighten on her shoulders. “Nice to meet you—thought John would hide you away forever.”
She glances up at him through her lashes. “You talked about me?”
Gaz shakes his head. “Not as much as you’d think. Took Ghost ages to get it out of him.”
Johnny flushes. “Did no’. Jus’ ‘cause I don’ blab about everything under the fuckin’ sun doesnae mean—”
“John says you’re a florist,” Gaz interrupts, turning the conversation back to her. Her lips split up into a mischievous little grin, delighted at the turnabout, probably delighted at seeing Johnny stumble over his words.
Something about her teasing grin gets his dick hard. More points to the rapidly disintegrating belief that he doesn’t have a humiliation kink. He leans forward, pressing it into her ass, delighted himself when she shoots him a dirty look over her shoulder but doesn’t pull away. 
“So, where’s everybody?” Johnny asks casually, trying not to make it too obvious who he’s referring to. The look Gaz gives him is unimpressed. He keeps running into that brick wall, his thoughts written out on his forehead, obvious to everyone around him. 
“Everyone?” Gaz repeats sceptically. 
“Aye.” His voice is tight, warning. “Everyone.”
“Ghost’s actually on his way here now, I think. We got called over to HQ—s’where I was headed, actually.”
“I dinnae say anything about Ghost, now did I—,” Johnny grumbles, but the words dissolve in his mouth when the man in question comes into the room. 
Sometimes, Johnny has the pleasure of seeing Ghost round a corner. The split second pleasure of being the observer, of dragging his eyes up and over, his chest bursting with a light like dawn cresting behind mountains and splitting the sky. In the field, he’s often deprived of that; becomes used to experiencing the phenomenon of Ghost melting out of the shadows, sometimes scaring the daylights out of him. 
It’s what happens now though. Glancing up on a whim only to see a man round the corner of the hallway leading out of the rec centre, shirt stretched out maddeningly over his arms and chest, muscles bulging like he just came from the gym, still pumped. The shirt’s a little threadbare, something old and worn, and Johnny’s seen it a million and a half times he figures; it leaves so little to the imagination that he’s joked about Ghost busting it at the seams from time to time, only to be met with a steady, aloof stare. 
There’s something to be said about how he’s drawn to people who refuse to scratch him behind the ears until he’s more than proven himself. He works tirelessly for Ghost’s approval, for his girl’s approval. Dogs with their bones, tigers with their stripes. 
He has a balaclava pulled over his face, just a simple black one this time, the underside of his eyes darkened by eyeblack hastily scrubbed off the night before, probably. His eyes scan the crowd, locking on Johnny and Gaz almost instantly. It’s the mark of a good soldier—he doesn’t flounder in the dark. Always finds his target, like a sixth sense for knowing when he’s being watched. 
Ghost course-corrects upon noticing them, crossing the room in a handful of seconds. The curt, “Johnny,” he gets is a bounty, a treasure. He grins back when Ghost glances down at the girl at his side. “That your bird?” 
“Told ye I’d bring her in—s’long as everyone’s on their best behaviour, of course.”
Gaz snorts. “Good luck with that.”
Ghost must cock an eyebrow because he can see the fabric of his mask shift. “Pretty.”
He can’t help the way he preens at that. Tucked away by his side again, Johnny can feel his girl squirm, but he pays it no mind. She’s shy—he’s known that from day one, from the first time she stumbled out from the back of the flower shop and scrunched her nose up at his attempts at flirting. 
Admiration is a smooth, buttery feeling. It keeps him aloft while another couple of servicemen take interest in their conversation and come over, Johnny’s girl at the centre of everyone’s attention. He’d be pricklier about it if he didn’t have a firm hand on her waist, keeping her pressed to his side. 
He soaks up the attention. Drinks it up when someone asks his girl a question and Johnny answers for her or pinches her cheek when she manages to pipe up before him. He knows he’ll get read the riot act when he takes her back home later, but he might be able to convince her to ride him while berating him for talking over her. Might beg her to slap him and spit in his mouth—say it’s the only way he’ll learn his lesson.
Dirty dog.
It strikes him that maybe he’s picked up some bad habits in recent months. He’s never been one to overthink, to worry and fret. Yet, he toils in it now, shovels coals into the furnace of it and gives it life. 
His shoulders go slack, the tension finally ebbing out of him. No longer dogged by the incessant fear that his girl is going to run away, bolt at the first loud noise, or that someone’s going to pluck her up out of his arms. She seems comfortable if anything. 
He’s been overthinking all of this, wrapped up in his head. He can breathe out, unclench. 
When Ghost shifts to stand closer to them, he glances over because that’s where his gaze always goes these days. Seeking Ghost out, finding him in a crowd; looking for his North Star wherever he is, wherever he goes. 
Only to watch in mute horror as, in plain sight, not trying to be discreet or hide it from anyone, Ghost gropes his girlfriend’s ass in front of everyone on base. Just reaches out a big hand and fondles her ass, digging his fingers into the cheek. She freezes, back ramrod straight as she stares ahead, eyes going a bit blank. 
He fails whatever test this is, mouth too dry for any words to come out. Humiliation burns him from the inside out. Another sergeant that he’s worked with before frowns, glancing over at Johnny. Neither of them say a word. 
Ghost tilts his head, staring down at his hand on her ass like he’s contemplating its plushness. Admiring it. With how Johnny stands on one side and Ghost the other, the two of them bracket her, like the soft centre of their trio; nowhere for her to go, a handler on either side. That’s wrong though. Ghost is not her handler—Johnny hardly is, more of a self-appointed one. 
Still he—
He lets it happen.
Contention dies a bloody death in his mouth, massacred. Mangled. He lets Ghost sink his fingers into his girlfriend’s backside and hum a little under his breath before finally pulling his hand away. The others look at him, waiting for Johnny’s reaction with bated breath. A reaction that never comes because it gets strangled in Johnny’s throat. 
“Nice meeting the bird,” Ghost finally says, voice a decibel lower, rough enough to scrape. “Gaz and I’ve got shit to do now. Be ready on the tarmac by oh-seven-hundred tomorrow, Johnny.” 
He grips Johnny by the shoulder before heading off, like he didn’t just grope Johnny’s girlfriend. Like he didn’t just reach down and grab a handful of her ass like it was his to feel up. And Johnny just nods. A placid, docile thing under Ghost’s hand, bobbing his head like a doll. 
Then Ghost leaves, Gaz trailing after him, looking back about a half dozen times to see if Johnny will suddenly follow them until he’s forced to job to catch up to Ghost, the man already yards away, longer legs carrying him fast out of the building. 
They don’t talk on the drive back to her apartment, the inside of the car tense and uncertain. Johnny walks her to the door when he lets her off, but it’s a formality, a chaste kiss at the door instead of the rough fuck that he’d envisioned to send her off. Despite the hard set of her jaw, she doesn’t lambast him like Johnny expected. The silence is worse though, haunting when she shuts the door in his face. 
The drive back to base after the drop off is agonizing in a whole new way. Still pent up, cock heavy in his pants, and fingers drumming over the steering wheel twice as fast now. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do? What he wants to do is turn around at the closest gap between both sides of the motorway and speed all the way back, knock on her door until his knuckles blister and bleed, until she opens the door and lets him in, lets Johnny push her to the floor in the entryway and spread her legs, welcoming him in. 
Until she lets him fit his fingers into the marks left behind by Ghost’s hand. 
Cold fire rising up off his bones, and then something hot. And wet. 
The next day at breakfast in the mess, one of the guys says something like, “If Ghost was into my girl, that’s the last you’d see of me and her,” and his mind goes blank and he goes over the table.
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shotmrmiller · 5 months
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A/N: This was supposed to be a small thing cuz i inhale toxic ex's like air but here we are.
Thinking of a toxic ex!Simon that you broke up with almost a year ago. You wanted more than what he was willing to give you— unbelievable fuck aside— and you were just gonna get hurt in the long run. So you ended it.
What hurt the most was how he didn't even try to put up a fight. He just stood in front of you, as impassive as ever.
"If that's what you want." He shrugged.
And that was that. Ever since then, you've focused on yourself and your job. Meaning no dates, no get-togethers, nothing. Just work and lonely nights with a glass of wine. That he hadn't reached out once in all this time certainly rubbed salt on your wounds.
Now you're here. Out with a group of friends at a bar, after being borderline guilt-tripped into coming. A couple of mango martinis in and you're approached by a handsome fellow. Curly, brown locks and sun-kissed skin.
"Can I buy you another one, lass?"
"Sure. I'll never turn down a free drink."
He chuckles and his smooth laughter sends a shiver up your spine. As he turns away to get the bartender, you flick your eyes at your friends. They're giving you cheeky smiles and thumbs up.
Rolling your eyes with a smile, Mr. Handsome comes back with your drink before saddling up next to you on a bar stool.
"So what's a beautiful bird such as yourself doing all alone here?"
"I've been locked up for too long. Needed a change of scenery. And I gotta say, the view's quite nice."
He grabbed the back of your stool and dragged you a little closer to him, before tilting his head to the side— emerald green eyes half lidded and slightly covered by his curly hair.
"Is that right? I gotta say I also like what I'm seeing." Moving his hand from the padding of your stool to hook onto your hip, he says, "How about we move to a more private setting? Do you live nearby?"
He'd be the first guy since Simon that you've shown any interest in. You weren't ready for a relationship yet, but a distraction wouldn't hurt. And his staggering good looks certainly helped his case.
Nodding, you take out your phone from your purse to text your friends that have somehow disappeared when it vibrates, so you unlock your screen.
Take him home and I'm slitting his throat.
You flinch and look around wildly in a panic. Where is he?
"Hey, are you alright?"
Your phone vibrates again and you swallow hard before opening the text.
If his hand doesn't remove itself from your body, it'll be coming off of his.
You squeak before aggressively removing yourself from the stool, tripping over your heels. You weren't as sober as you'd like to be. The guy tries to stabilize you by grabbing your wrist but you jerk yourself away from his grip.
"I uh, I have somewhere to be." You toss on your jacket over your shoulders before running towards the front door and into the cool, rainy night.
Bzzt. Another text.
Good choice. I'd have hated ruining your nice purple comforter. It's one of my favorites.
You turn your body, doing a 360, eyes aimlessly looking for the ghost of your past life, when your phone rings. You frantically press the answer button.
"What the fuck is wrong with you!?"
You hear him tsk. "I'd lower that tone of yours, love. I don't appreciate being spoken to like that," he says condescendingly.
Sighing, "I'm allowing you to continue this delusional 'break' of yours, but my patience runs thin. No one is allowed to touch you but me."
Your heart beats viciously at his audacity and tears start running down your cheeks. In fear, in relief or in anger, you don't know.
"Don't cry, doll. You should've known you'd always be mine. Now go home. I'll keep you safe."
Hanging up, you do as he says, wondering how long he's been keeping tabs on you— haunting you. You make a note to yourself to check your flat for cameras.
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lovifie · 3 months
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Lift Me Off My Feet
Chapter 4: Midnight Snack
Masterlist
Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12
3.5K words
Warning/Notes: Soap x Reader, oral sex (m receiving), hair pulling, messy make out
This is the video from where the photo is, if you haven't seen it, You have to and if you have already, you are welcome.
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The drive back to base seems neverending. 
Once Price and Ghost managed to get you to stop crying and to breathe normally. The three of you pack the essentials, and by that, I mean you were hugged to Ghost like a koala while Price got what he could save from your house into a bag pack. 
Most of your clothes were ripped or cut, so in the end, only some pieces of underwear, a couple of shirts, some pants and the pyjamas you were wearing were safe. Plus your jacket and shoes that were behind the door. 
And that is how you found yourself now. Sobbing, sitting in the middle of the back seat, bag pack on your lap, Simon’s hand on your knee from the passenger seat as Price drives.
“Tomorrow morning, you are going to call your job, and tell them that you are going to take a couple of days off, okay?” Price asks looking at you through the rearview mirror. “And we will take everything you need, we will buy clothes, find you a better place to stay, anything you need.”
You shake your head feeling the tears come back and you hide your face behind your hands as you start to cry again. “I can't.” You cry. “What can't you do?” Simon asks turning his head to look at you.
“Miss more work days, I have already taken too many. I can't afford to lose more.” You mumble whining out of mental exhaustion.
“Hey, stop. Don't get carried away, alright?” Simon says rubbing your thigh. “Let's not think about that right now, tomorrow tell your boss the situation. Tell them that your house was broken into, that you need a couple of days to get everything in order. Depending on what your boss says, we'll work from there. Alright, birdie?”
You nod weakly as you focus on taking deep breaths. When you finally arrive, both men get out of the car and Price opens the door for you. You step out still holding your bag tight, either men try to take it from your hands and walk along between both men. 
Their hands find their way to your back, Price to the bottom and Simon to the top, reassuring shielding you from the chilly breeze of the night. 
“How about a cuppa?” Simon asks looking at you, a smile visible in his eyes, and you can't help it but to give him a weak smile back nodding. “Then, we will find you a room so you can sleep as much as you want.” 
Sleep does sound amazing, taking into consideration that last night you had little sleep and you have been on the move ever since. 
Price and Simon walk you to a lousy room, many recruits sitting together. The mess hall, you figure. In the middle of the room, there are a couple of sofas, and you quickly recognise Soap and Gaz, sprawled together in one of them looking at Gaz's phone. 
Most of the soldiers that are finishing their dinner, or just enjoying each other company before going to bed look up when they hear the door opening. Their gazes linger for a second too long on you until you can feel Ghost throwing them a warning sign in the form of a look and they peel their eyes away.
Gaz and Soap look up when they hear the door open, and just for a second, they smile at you before they furrow their browns when they see everyone's expression. 
“What happened? How come the wee lass so spooked?” Soap asks sitting straight and patting the seat between him and Kyle.
Price’s hand on your lower back softly pushes you forward to sit down before he answers: “She’s still a bit in shock, Soap. We’ll talk about it later.”
You sit down between Soap and Gaz, backpack still in your hands, and pull your knees up hugging your legs. Gaz points to your backpack and asks: “You sleeping over tonight? You should definitely sleep in Soap’s and my room. Ghost and Price have their own individual ones, but they snore.” He whispers the last part pulling a little smile from you.
You lean your head on Soap's shoulder when he lays his arm on the couch behind your back. The man is a living furnace and shortly after you find yourself seeking more contact.
Price sits on the second sofa in front of you and just a second later Ghost appears back, cup of tea on hand, as he gives it to you. You take it from his hands, yours still shaking just a little bit as you do, and you rest it on top of your knee for support.
Kyle's hand find its way to your other knee giving it a light squeeze. “How's your arm, luv?” You look at your elbow and shrug your shoulder. “I haven't even had time to check it, good I think, it hasn't bothered me.”
“You didn't get hurt today, did you?” Price asks focusing on your face after doing a quick check-up of you. You shake your head: “No, a headbutt on the ceiling if anything.”
Price nods, satisfied with your answer and shakes his head at the sergeant's questioning look. You look down to the tea, thoughts getting to you. You saw your neighbour get arrested, and if he had gotten free they would have told you. So it must have been someone who works for them, and if he wasn't arrested already is because they didn't really know who works for them. 
“What are you thinking about, birdie?” Ghost brings you back to reality with just a question. “Am I safe here?” You ask, with a shake in your voice. 
“Yes.” Price's answer is concise, full of trust in his own word, leaving no room for doubt. “As long as you are with us, nothing and nobody is getting to you.”
You look at his face, almost as if expecting him to burst laughing at you for trusting them. A voice in your head screams at you not to do it, you barely know them. But you thought you knew your neighbour and now he's trying to kill you, so. 
You nod and take a sip of the tea. Warming you inside and letting you relax just a bit. 
“How about a distraction?” Soap asks smiling at you. “Have we told ye aboot the time Gaz fell from a helo and was hangin’ from a rope like a yo-yo?”
“Fucking hell, Johnny. Shut up!” Gaz complains laughing next to you. 
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The time went a bit more smoothly when Soap decided to talk about everyone's embarrassing stories, you could still tell he wasn't telling everything, keeping the classified information for himself, but still telling enough to have you laughing, gasping and asking with interest as he told.
By the time you finished your tea, you were already in a greater mood, the attack from today moved to the back of your head. Price lends you a hand to help you stand up while Ghost takes the empty cup from you. Gaz and Soap keep their word to share the room for the night against Price and Ghost's complaint that they should let you rest alone. Until the words “I don't really want to be alone.” leave your mouth and that's the end of the bickering. 
Soap and Gaz barracks are quite simple, two single beds against opposite walls, two desks, two little bookshelves and two closets. Almost as if there was a mirror in the middle of the room if it wasn't for the little trinkets and details on each side letting you know the right bed was Soap's and the one on the left was Gaz's. 
After a quick rock, paper, scissor championship, it is decided you will be sharing Soap's bed. And since you are already in your pyjamas, you get inside the bed quickly, ready to be done with the day. Soap lays behind you, hugging your middle and dropping a kiss to your temple. “Sleep tight, bonnie.”
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A ray of light erupts from the bathroom door that is practically closed, almost as if whoever closed was afraid the click of the door closing would wake you up. At first, you don't think most of it, Soap must have gotten up to pee. But then you listen, and it doesn't sound like that's what he is doing in the bathroom.
Little grunts can be heard as well as the sound of skin hitting skin. You stand up from the bed, curiosity taking control of your body and walking you to peak at the door. You shouldn't, you really shouldn't. But once you lay your eyes on him, you know you are fucked. 
Soap is barechested, leaning against the sink with a hand supporting him while the other strokes his dick. He has his eyes closed, head low with his mouth open slightly, and small grunts and whines leave his lips. 
The grey sweatpants slightly lowered, allowing you to see the curve of his lower back as well as what you trust is the girthiest dick you have ever laid your eyes onto. The tip looks red, hungry for release, pearls of precum dripping from it making your mouth water. 
There is a turmoil of thoughts in your head, you keep repeating to yourself that you need to place some distance between yourself and these men. But the moment any of them show any skin or any emotion of want towards you, you throw yourself at them. 
Three times have you gone through this, your mind telling you is a bad idea and your pussy pushing you at their arms. This time is not different, and before you know it, you are inside the bathroom locking the door making Soap jump.
“Steamin’ jesus, bonnie.” He says shoving his dick inside his pants and turning his back at you to hide his tent. “Knock before entering, lass.”
“Sorry.” You mutter, not feeling sorry and you slowly walk to him. “I just wanted to help…”
“What? What you me-” He gets cut mid-question when he feels your hand grazing his tip, pressing your chest to his back and surrounding his waist with your arm. You use a hand to feel his abdomen and the other to softly caress the length of his dick inside his pants.
“But I can go back to bed if you don't want…” You say looking at the back of his head. “Don't you dare.” He answers grabbing your wrist when you try to take it back and he looks at you over his shoulder. 
“Ye dinnae have to do it if ye dinnae want… but if you want, I'll take anythin’ ye throw at me, bonnie.” He says turning around and cupping your face after lowering his pants again to free his erection. “I had to run to the bathroom cause ye were rubbing yer arse against me on yer sleep, I was about to explode.”
“Well then, I think it's only fair I fix it, right?” You ask looking at him cheekly. He leans down and kisses you smiling into the kiss. Little groans slide into your mouth as you stroke him and you can feel his hips thrust softly into your hand as well. 
For the last two days these men have only but given to you, and as much as you have enjoyed every single second of it, it is about time you give back. 
You pick Soap's hand from your cheek and push it up to your hair. “Make sure to keep my hair away from my face, all right?”
He looks at you confused but quickly gets the idea when you kneel before him. He quickly brushes your hair back with his finger, doing a ponytail at the back of your head and groans deeply when you give a kitty lick to his tip.
You pop his tip inside your mouth sucking softly as you circle it with your tongue. Stroke the rest with both your hands, unable to reach your thumb with your index because of the girth and slowly bobbing your head up and down.
Soap stays mumbling curse words under his breath, low enough to not be able to hear him and you wish you were not hiding in the bathroom and could hear him scream. You think back to when Price ate you out, did he get as turn-on satisfying you as you are getting doing it to Soap? 
He opens his eyes to lock into yours and you look up to him through your lashes as you start to get more inside your mouth. 
“Fokin’ hell, bonnie. Keep looking at me like that and I'm not gonna last a second.” He says struggling to keep his eyes open. 
You chuckle inside your head, and keep getting closer and closer to his hipbone. You must praise Soap's self-commitment to not cum, even though you can feel the grip on your hair getting tighter. When you feel his pubes brush against your nose you pull back taking a breath and look at him. When you lock eyes with each other, you smile and say before opening your mouth: “Fuck my throat, Johnny.”
For a second you get scared that Soap will just cum as you speak when you physically see the shudder that goes through him. But then he grips your hair back making you look up to him and he kisses your mouth in a sloppy kiss. Spit, drool and precum all mixing between your tongues and when he draws back to talk a threat of spit connect your lips. “You are going to fucking kill me, lass.” He mumbles and stands up to full height.
He doesn't let go of your hair and when you stick your tongue out he slaps it with his cock. “Gonna fuck yer throat raw, bonnie. Bite if it gets too much.” He smirks before shoving his dick down your throat in a single thrust and beginning to fulfil his word.
“Fuck, bonnie.” He says slurring his words between moans. “Taking my cock so well, such a good fucking lass, so, so good, fuck.” 
Your visions get blurry with the tears from fighting your gag reflex, your hands rest on Soap's thighs and you can feel them flex with each thrust. If it wasn't for your pants you know you would be literally dripping on the floor, never did you though it could turn you on this much. But seeing Soap becoming such a mess, not being even able to speak, just mumbles and curses leaving his mouth. 
“Let me cum inside, bonnie, please. I wanna see you drink it, please, please, bonnie, please.” He begs looking at your face with a pained expression, and almost as if he was waiting for your answer when you slightly nod he grunts and you feel his spent travel down your throat. He stays like that for another second and finally pulls out, you open your mouth showing him your work and he smiles as he bends down to kiss you again. “Fucking beautiful, love.”
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The next morning you are woken up by an alarm and just a second later a door slamming shut. “I call dibs on the bathroom!” Kyle shouts making you jump.
You turn around on Soap's arms, nuzzling your face on his chest and sighing satisfied. “Eejit” Soap mumbles with his chin resting on top of your head.
“Do we have to share the bathroom the three of us?” You ask against his chest.
“Ye didnae seem to mind sharing it with me last night.” He mumbles back and you feel his chest tumble with a laugh.
“Aw, shut up, Johnny.” You say chuckling and yawning. “What time is it, anyway? I feel like I slept just two hours.”
“0540, not too far off to be honest.” He answers and when your half-sleep brain processes what time it is you look at him as if he has just insulted you. “What?”
“Why the fuck are we up before 6 in the morning? Like, seriously, the fuck?” You ask grumpy as you sit up pulling your legs over Soap's torso. He caresses one of your calves and flexes his arm resting his head on his hand. If you were not so bothered to be awakened so early, you would admire his physique. 
“This is the military, love.” He says smiling. “Ye look like an angry kitty.”
You pull the pillow from under his head and hit him with it making him laugh. “Do we need to be ready before six?”
“Yeah, actually, that's when we are supposed to have breakfast. We are meeting Lt. and Price there.” He says taking the pillow from his face. “Ye should get dressed.”
You groan standing up and picking your bag from the side of the bed. You pull your clothes out, and notice that you can barely form a full outfit; you sigh and sit on the floor looking at Soap who is now on his side, elbow on the bed and head resting on his hand. He looks at you with a confused expression and says: “That's all ye packed, lassie? I thought ye were staying more time.” 
He stands up, walks to his closet and picks something from inside just to throw it to your head. An uf sound leaves your throat and you pick it up to see it, it is a sweatshirt with MacTavish written on the back. “It is cold this early in the morning, we don't want ye freezing up. Get dressed.”
He bends down to drop a kiss on your lips leaving you a bit stunned and enters the bathroom without knocking making Gaz protest from the inside. “Stop screaming, it's me. I'm just giving the wee lass some privacy, Gaz.” 
You chuckle to yourself and quickly get dressed, putting on the only pair of jeans you have, and a weird t-shirt from some kind of ad you used to wear to sleep, feeling really grateful it is covered with Soap's sweatshirt.
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“What are you doing here, luv?” Price asks standing up when he sees you enter the mess hall following Soap and Gaz. “Everything alright?”
The expression on your face must be portrait-worth because you can see even Simon's eyes twirl with a smile. 
“What do you mean what I'm doing here?” You ask looking at Price, until you hear a little snickering coming from both Gaz and Soap and you finally put two and two together. You turn to Soap and when you finally make eye contact with him, he burst out laughing.
“I'm sorry, bonnie. It was just too perfect of an opportunity to waste it.” He says raising his hand in false innocence. He tries to side-hug you, but you move quickly raising your chin offended and walking up to Price. “I'll fetch ye breakfast as a peace offering, all right, love?”
“That's the minimum you can do!” You exclaim still offended and stick your tongue out to him as you sit between where Ghost is sitting and where Price was sitting, him following you.
“Sorry about that, love.” Price says rubbing your tight. “I told them muppets to let you sleep in today. Did you at rest good?”
Gaz sits in front of you with a smirk, and you don't know if he knows, but you are sure that if he does he will snitch on you so stay on edge making sure not to break eye contact with him.
“Yeah, I did. The bed was surprisingly comforting, and Soap was a weighted blanket so.” You answer still looking at Gaz. You can feel Price's questioning look and Ghost's smirk.
“So Soap was comfortable?” Gaz asks smiling.
“Yeah, quite comfortable.” You answer.
He knows.
He fucking knows.
You don't know how, but he knows.
“Is that why you followed him to the bathroom when he went in the middle of the night?” He asks.
Fucking Garrick.
“I don't know what you are talking about.” You respond looking at your nails.
“I'm talking about when you into the bathroom and helped-”
CLANK
Soap puts the tray of food in front of you just in time, cutting Gaz's claim and starts to enunciate the food he bought. “I got ye coffee cause it's obvious yer not a morning person, I brought ye toast, some fruits and a little cereal cause I didn't really know what ye wanted. And I bought ye chocolate pudding.” He says putting the little cup on your hands, giving you a kiss on your head. “For sucking my dick so good last night.”
Gaz bursts out laughing, happy that he didn't even need to tell anything, while Ghost chuckles under his breath and Price sighs rubbing his forehead.
“I think there is a conversation that we definitely need to have.” Price announces. “For everyone's sake.”
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Hiii 💗
Hope you liked the new chapter, please please drop a comment if you like it or if there is any scenarios you would like me to include 💗
Thank you again for all the support, you guys are the best
Taglist:@pagesfalling @thevoidwriting @darkangel4121 @tf141glory @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @ghostlythots @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra @xinyiline @shadowtfpcod @infpt-zylith @renabear88 @lolliepopsicle @reap3erslov3
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soap-ify · 4 months
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PUP!SOAP INFLUENCING PUP!READER TO BREAK THE RULES SK HE CAN WATCH THEM GET PUNISHED BY PRICE/GHOST SINCE HES JEALOUS SHES GETTING SM ATTENTION FROM HIM
screaming because your mind !!! soap is such a little shit. we love to see it.
very much a part of poly!141 au with owner!price and pups!reader, ghost, gaz and soap btw !!
cw 18+, alcohol, spanking, no real fucking just suggestive stuff here and there, very price x soap x reader focused.
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soap tried to be nice, he really did.
it was just that you were swallowing everyone’s attention, especially price’s, leaving him all alone in the corner. feeling sickeningly neglected.
he knew he was being selfish, the attention he got from the other two pups and price never decreased. yet here he was, royal blue eyes glaring at the way ghost would let you nuzzle against his ears, or the way gaz would brush your tail ever so gently while you would happily give him ear scratches, or the way price would let you sleep on his lap.
why were you getting all the attention?
he was just a very greedy pup.
price had this one rule that all his four pups had to follow — never get drunk late at night if on the base. for the sake of attentiveness during trainings and missions.
it was a very simple rule that you had easily respected so far alongside the others. though soap was keen on changing that tonight.
“c’mere, lass. need yer help with something.” he pawed at you gently while you were sleeping on your bed, coaxing you awake, all confused and sleepy as he led you out of your quarters, both of you making sure to be quiet as you tiptoed your way behind him, eventually reaching his room.
confusion struck you when he handed you a bottle of bourbon, grabbing one for himself. “johnny, we aren’t supposed to drink…” you mumbled nervously.
“hush. ye will be fine. no one will find us, eh? s’our wee secret. plus i was really bored. needed company of a sweet bonnie like ye.” he assured you, a wolfish smirk adorning his lips, his words somehow easing your nerves since you trusted him.
minutes passed by as you drank the bourbon, getting more and more drunk, not even realising that soap hadn’t touched his bottle at all.
-
“i tried to stop them, but they weren’t listenin’ to me at all!” johnny huffed innocently, snuggling against price while the captain glared daggers at your hunched and nervous form, seated on the couch inside his office.
your bad hangover was too apparent throughout the training and price was clearly concerned for your wellbeing.
until soap spilled it all out, not mentioning how he was the one who told you to get drunk.
you whimpered and chewed on your bottom lip nervously, feeling betrayed and humiliated at the sergeant’s little snitching act, your tail tucked behind you nervously and ears hung low.
“c-captain, i didn’t mean to…” your weak voice fell to deaf ears as price stood up and walked over to you, settling down on the couch before harshly pulling you down onto his lap.
you whined sadly, face buried into his thick clothed thighs while you obediently pushed your ass up, his fingers roughly undoing your pants and pulling them down, leaving only your panties on you.
“such a fuckin’ bad pup. couldn’t even follow a simple rule.” he clicked his tongue in irritation, one hand holding your face down, fingers tightly laced with the strands of your hair while his other hand gently rubbed the soft flesh of your ass, callused fingers grazing against your skin before he delivered a harsh slap, not holding back at all.
a choked sob left your lips, eyes stinging with incoming tears as you sniffled and tried to not squirm, heat rising within your skin.
slap. slap. slap. you had mentally lost count on how many you got before he finally let go, roughened up hands gently rubbing your poor beaten up ass, panties all soaked and neglected.
you were a mess — lips wet with drool and cheeks all tear streaked, hair messy and sticking to your forehead while your glossy eyes distantly tried to look around, finally catching soap in the corner, a shit-eating grin plastered on his lips while having a visible boner, his eyes admiring the raging hand marks on your skin. soap was such a fucking bastard. what you didn't know was that he liked you better when you were a punished, sobbing mess.
price felt a bit guilty for being so mean despite you clearly having broken a rule, his hands slowly cupping your face and bringing you up, looking at the way you nervously hicced and cried, mumbling soft apologies over and over.
he couldn’t understand why you would break a rule. you were such a sweet pup! all new and sweet in the taskforce, everyone’s favourite.
but you were so dumb too, not complaining about soap at all, not wanting the other pup to get in danger.
-
once price did find out about soap’s little act (he never told anyone how), he made sure to give you extra special treatment the whole week while keeping the sergeant locked up.
ghost and gaz just watched from the sidelines, not feeling any remorse for soap. they would never mess with a cute pup like you anyways.
soap was a sad horny mess, thinking that at least ghost would sneak the pup out. but even his lieutenant was a meanie, and so was gaz — both visiting the cage and snickering at him the whole week while you got to be spoiled rotten by price.
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(RAHRWAHRAHAHAHWAHRAWR 😩‼️)
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Childhood Bsf Soap! Who hates leaving you even before you start dating. He worries about you 24/7 while he's on a mission even if he knows you can take care of yourself.
Childhood Bsf Soap! Who can't help but feel like you're already family. You're at his parents house every holiday get together and you're friends with all his cousins and siblings. You're his plus one to every wedding. It'd be so easy for you to take his last name.
Childhood Bsf Soap! Who convinces you to move in with him. He says it's cost efficient but really it's because he can't stand being away from you more than he has to. He loves coming home to you just lounging or cooking bc it makes him feel like you're his little wife waiting for him to come home ☹️ he just wants someone to hold him when it's over. It also doesn't hurt that he gets to see you prance around with wet hair in just a t shirt (no bra 😏) and panties bc you hate the feelings of pants on your freshly moisturized legs.
This doesn't help the problem Childhood Bsf Soap! has of talking about you to his team like you've been married to him for years. Calls you his lass, the missus, his lady. "Can't make it to the bar tonight, the missus has been looking forward to this new movie so I'm gonna take my lass to see it." The first time he complained about your new partner his teammates were stunned bc this whole time they thought you were his gf/wife. Soap likes the idea of people assuming you 2 are a couple.
Childhood Bsf Soap! Who has never liked any of your past partners and always made it very well known bc this boy can't hide his emotions. If he has to be around the person you're talking to romantically he's constantly like this 😡 in the corner literally POUTING. He'll even go as far as trying to convince you to break up with them for something. "They didn't even know your favorite childhood cartoon! They obviously don't care about getting to know you on a deeper level maybe you should end it now 😁"
Childhood Bsf Soap! Who already knows your relationship preferences and love languages. When he finally decides he's had enough of the just friends thing he takes full advantage of the years he's spent listening to you rant about love and ramble about your dream partner. All of the sudden he's hitting you with all the aspects you want in a partner and it's not an opportunity any sane person could pass up.
Childhood Bsf Soap! Who traps you in the bedroom the night before a mission. He got the call just after lunch and you haven't left the bed since. Hours later, his head is on your chest and you're lazily stroking his mohawk and watching some cooking show on the tv. He stays buried in you all night even after he goes soft just to be as close to you as possible before he has to leave. He's praying he's allowed to come back to you again this time.
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Umh 2nd ever time doing something like this 😬not as proud of this one bc I don't read much about Soap personally but I figured I started with Gaz so I might as well do another underated one. Soap needs some love too fr 💕 I really don't know what I'm doing y'all 😔😭
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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months
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Under the Christmas tree [dark!141 x fem!Reader] (Secret Santa fic)
Secret Santa gift for @crash-and-live 141 had a wonderful time taking their combat medic to be their captive barracks bunny instead. Now, the Sergeants have decided you will make a wonderful gift for their COs. CW and Tags: Dub-con, poly!141, inappropriate celebration of Christmas, power imbalance, bondage, slight BDSM.
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Gaz was always an expert on knots. 
Fancy little ribbons and bows – not so much. He prides himself on being suspiciously quick to adapt to the changing environment, yes, but learning how to tie bows when your little captive is acting just a tad bit dismissive towards the whole idea is…hard. Not as hard as hanging down the rope on a moving helicopter, but…
— Come, luv. Stop strugglin’ 
He smiles, all teeth and no lies, when you – his favorite medic, the best thing ever happening to this bloody team – started meowling something about the circulation and cutting off the bloodstream and how you don’t exactly like not only being held in the basement of the base but also being tied up…he looks at you and just knows he can’t resist booping you on the nose, kissing your perfect fuckin cheeks while Soap already has his hands in your hair, gently brushing it to put even more ribbons and bows. Red, just like on a Christmax gift. 
You’re a bloody gift. 
— I ken ye don’t like sittin’ like this, but Lt needs pick me up, aye? 
Soap smiles when you struggle just a bit more, your tied hands brushing against his stomach as you slowly buck your hips back. Trying to get just a tiny bit of stimulation, sneaky little lass – this is why he loves you, so smart and so adorably dumb at the same time. The best thing that ever happened to them is that you still act like you don’t enjoy being their shared chewing toy. They can agree it’s just a bit of a stretch from your previous working environment but hell, at least you’re not being shot at. Johnny’s hand gently moves from your head to your neck, adjusting the little red bow he made from the ribbons. They tried so hard to find the softest ever ribbons without a sharp edge and material that could cut off the circulation – even though Kyle was still doing his favorite knots that rendered you absolutely defenseless. You lick your lips and try to rock from side to side, making the ribbons a bit more loose – it doesn’t work, of course. Not like your team ever wanted you to have a say in their perverse desires, right? 
You fell into the Stockholm syndrome quite easily, especially since they were so stuck on always respecting your wishes(except for letting you out, of course) and never forcing anything too harsh…up until now, apparently. Making sure you’re on your best behavior because it’s Christmas, they have a small table set up – beer, whiskey, some snacks that you naively put on because you’re still not allowed to cook, and they don’t really care for home-cooked meals – and your shaking form, twisted in a somewhat sexy pose all because they needed a little Christmas present for their CO’s. 
Gaz brushes his hand on your tummy, gently pushing it down – you were prepared, of course, so much lube was out in your glossy folds, with Soap’s mouth buried deep between your legs, until you felt you’re going to pass out from the sheer amount of orgasm he was edging out of you. There is a reason why Johnny isn’t allowed to eat you out when Ghost isn’t around – his self-control is non-existent when push comes to your cunt and the tongue he can shove in. 
You feel like you’re going to burst when you finally hear the door opening. When you finally hear Captain – his tired, gruff voice, the way Ghost’s jacket silently hits the ground as they start to undress. Usually, you’re made to greet them with kisses and your soft lips on their cocks if they feel particularly tired. Usually, you’re made to wait for them in the bedroom, with their sergeants gently playing with you because, of course, you’re the property of all four of them, no matter the power dynamic. 
Nothing is usual now – you’re laying under a Christmas tree, naked and aroused, your pussy is all puffy and swollen from Soap’s tongue, your body is tied up with red ribbons Gaz was using. You want to be good for them, and so you lay here, hoping your obedience will be enough for a few more climaxes. Ghost is the first to put his hands on you. 
Kneading your breasts, gently forcing his rough fingers on your exposed nipples, you’re so sweet for him, so perfect, laid out like a beautiful gift – he can only groan in arousal as he slowly pushes the ribbons from your chest, taking in the view of your hardened buds and bite marks – evidence of Kyle taking his mark while he was tying you up. You might have been apprehensive about the whole idea, but you’re playing the role of a gift perfectly – just like you should. 
— Bloody hell, love. So pretty for us. 
— She was such a good girl for us, Lt. Didnae even resisted much. ~ — Is that right, sweetheart? 
You can only nod, your mouth stuffed with a pretty gag – you’re drooling all around it, looking fucking adorable as you try and look as harmless as possible. No reason to provoke them now when they already made it clear just how many orgasms they are going to take from you tonight. 
Ghost smiles under his mask, his hands moving to play with your lower tummy, squeezing the soft flesh and teasing your folds – you’re soft and pliable for them, spread out like a perfect toy. The most desirable thing they could ever find under a Christmas tree.
Price caresses your face with a softness you didn’t know a man of his position could have. He kisses you, and his whiskers tickle your soft skin – you aren’t sure if you can even handle him being so damn gentle about everything. He laughs as you try to wiggle out of Ghost’s grasp, their hands laying on your body – bruises and marks are scattered across your skin, making you the perfect canvas. Gosh, you’re beautiful – John doesn’t even know what they did to deserve such a little treat. — Such a pretty display for us, eh? 
— Sergeants outdid themselves this time. 
— You bet they did. Are you goin’ to behave for us, love? 
Price smiles when you whimper, spreading your legs like a pretty toy. Ghost already pushing you to the ground, forcing his way in between your thighs – you’re so open for them, vulnerable to the tip of his cock pressing in your folds already. Soap did a good job eating you out, even Simon’s cock won’t be too much – not after the way Gaz was spreading you on three of his fingers, smiling with each of your little attempts at moans. You know the night is going to be long.
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chamomiletealeaf · 1 month
Note
hear me out on this one it might be vanilla but imagine soap or ghost or price or konig i don’t care who is on deployment and you finally get them on the phone and it gets dirty and nasty real quick
This idea is so yummy with Soap 😮‍💨
warnings: voice kink, Johnny being a slut, phone sex, masturbation, switch! Johnny
Johnny was on deployment and he missed you so much. He's been gone for a few months now and he finally got some down time to call you for more than a quick few seconds on a payphone. When he got back to base, he went straight to his room to call you, practically skipping to his room in the barracks.
He dials your number on his phone and lays down on his bed on his back, waiting to hear the ring stop and your voice replace it.
"Hey Johnny." You say lovingly after barely three rings and he smiles.
"Hey bonnie." He says back, smiling even bigger than you.
"You just get back?" You ask and he nods, but then remembers you can't see him.
"Yeah." He says with an exhausted sigh.
"Aw honey you must be so tired." You coo at him through the phone and he feels his stomach flip.
weird, he thinks to himself.
"Yeah. Glad I can finally talk to you though. Never too tired for you lass." He says with a smile.
"You coming home soon baby?" You ask in your sweetest, softest voice, and Johnny holds back a whine.
what the fuck? He says in his head, confused as to why your voice is making him so damn needy like a stray dog.
"Yeah girlie, two more weeks." He says, reaching down to adjust his belt around his pants that seemed to get tighter since he started talking to you.
"Mm ok." You pout. "Gonna have a nice, hot, home cooked meal waiting for you when you get back. That sound good honey?" You ask in that same soft and sweet tone you have him panting at.
Johnny bucks his hips unconsciously at the sound of your voice coddling him through the phone and a little whimper escapes his lips.
"Y-yeah that sounds amazing bonnie." He says and you furrow your eyebrows at the stutter in his voice.
"You ok hun'?" You ask, concerned at why his tone changed all of a sudden.
Johnny unbuckles his pants and slips a hand inside his pants, slowly stroking himself over his boxers, precum making a damp spot in them.
"Yeah I'm doin' just fine dolly, just- keep talkin' to me." He says trying not to sound like he's jerking himself off, and you buy it.
"Ok well, today I went to the grocery store and I saw the cutest little puppy, literally the sweetest boy I've ever seen. Such a good puppy." You say the last part in a high pitched 'puppy voice' and Johnny's eyes roll to the back of his head and his cock twitches in his hands, imagining you saying those words to him, about him.
"Yeah?" Johnny says in a whisper "How- How good of a boy was he?" He asks and you furrow your brows again for a second, then you catch on.
"Oh he was the best boy. So good for me." You say with a smirk and you hear Johnny try to muffle a whine.
"Johnny?" You say so softly that if he wasn't so focused on your voice he wouldn't have heard it.
"Yeah bonnie." He responds exasperated.
"Are you.. jerking off right now?" You giggle.
"N-no." He lies terribly.
"Hm.. well if you were, I'd tell you to stop stroking yourself through your pants and pull it out for me." You say with a smirk.
Johnny's end goes silent for a bit, only the sound of a belt buckle clacking as he pulls his throbbing, leaking cock out of his pants, gently fisting himself.
"What else would you tell me to do bonnie?" He asks, almost begs actually and you clench your thighs together at his desperation.
"Tell me how much you miss me sweetheart." You tell him, smiling as you bite your fingernail, trying to hide the smile in your voice.
"Fuck baby, miss you so fuckin' much. Wish it was you jerkin' me instead of my fist." He says through dog-like pants, and you move your hand between your thighs and under your sleep shorts that were practically soaked through. Good thing you didn't wear panties underneath them so you can easily slip your hand down to play with your clit.
"Yeah? Miss you too honey. Can't wait for you to fuck me again." You whine desperately this time.
Johnny picks up on the change of your voice and knows you're playing with yourself and he takes advantage of your vulnerability.
"Yeah that's right sweetheart, rub that little cunny for me. Not as good as my fingers are they hm?" He says as he bucks up into his hand.
"Mm mm." You respond and he laughs.
"Fuck need to bury my face in ya' girlie. Miss that sweet little pussy."
Hearing each other's moans cause you both to get closer and closer to the edge, Johnny's cock leaking all over his hand and your pussy dripping all over your shorts.
"Come on bonnie lemme hear ya' moan my name." He says, fisting his cock faster and faster.
"Fuck Johnny, gonna cum." You whimper in that high pitched, soft little voice he loves hearing from you.
"Do it. Cum for me baby." He says and you squeak out a moan of his name while you cum in your little shorts on your living room couch soaking them.
Johnny hears you say his name over and over while you make a mess of yourself and your couch, and when you moan out a "fuck me like a good boy Johnny" he cums so hard he shoots cum on his chest.
You both pant into your phone mics, coming down from your highs.
After a second Johnny speaks.
"I can't wait to come home to you bonnie." He says after he catches his breath.
"I can't wait for you to come home to me." You say back and you both smile.
"Two more weeks." He says.
"Two more weeks." You reply.
And after you two say your goodbyes, I love you's, and goodnights, Johnny makes a mental note to talk to Price first thing in the morning about possibly making it back home to you a few days earlier than planned.
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tojisun · 6 months
Note
thinking about biker! simon going out with his girl and the other guys at a biker bar. reader hasn't really seen how scared people are of simon - who they all call ghost - until she goes to get him another drink. while she's at the bar, a guy comes over trying to hit on her. then this hulking, 6'4 guy in a skull mask appears and the guy is ready to run out of the bar. simon didn't even have to talk just glare. while readers like ???
ITS BEEN YEARS SINCE THIS WAS SENT IM SORRY FOR JUST REPLYING NOW :(( BUT YES ABSOLUTELY YES!! my stomach swooped when i saw this hhhhh im actually kicking my legs n twirling my hair n everythingg!!
naturally, im bad at making drabbles because this turned out long again :’) im sorry
biker!simon mlist // star divider by @/plutism <33
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simon’s hand is warm on the small of your back as he leads you further into the bar. you shuffle along his languid steps, head swivelling as you try to find familiar faces in the crowd – so far, none yet.
simon chuckles from beside you, and you peer up at him only to see his eyes crinkled from underneath his balaclava, no doubt smiling at you. he bows his head closer towards yours, trying, in vain, to devour as much of the space made by the height difference between you two.
“what?”
“nothin’, sweet girl.” he presses his covered lips on the top of your head, breathing you in. “come on, i see ‘em.”
he shifts the two of you, the hand that’s settled on the small of your back gliding until it hooks around your waist, pulling you ever so closer to him. protective. possessive. it makes you hum in delight, happiness thrumming underneath your skin.
(you don’t notice the way many people shift to get out of simon’s way; heads downturned as though afraid of even meeting his eyes. you don’t notice the way they turn to each other when you two passed by, as though making sure that it was simon they saw. simon – ghost – with a sweet darling pressed to his side, his bulk warding away stray gazes. you don’t notice the way they huddle with each other, whispering promises that ghost’s girl should always be protected. because yes they fear ghost, but more than that, loyalty to each other is stronger.)
he leads you towards a small pack by the far side, the table doused less in light than the rest of the bar. johnny’s already turned towards you and simon, watching with a grin as you two make it across. kyle’s seated beside him, the younger man leaned to watch the ongoing hockey game. then you see the back of john’s familiar head, his beloved boonie slung around his neck.
“finally made it, huh lass?” johnny says in greeting, snagging the attention of both kyle and john, the two of them chiming in their own hello’s. you smile, waving at them as you claim the empty seat between simon and john.
“had to make a quick stop at 7-11,” simon responds, his hand curling at one of the legs of your chair before pulling you towards him. the metal squeaks against the tiles, the sound thankfully drowned out by the loud bass.
“oh did you?” john asks, ignoring whatever simon did given how they’re all so used to his soft displays of possessiveness. he offers you a smile when you turn to him with a nod.
“had to buy, um, medicine for my stomachache.”
it’s endearing how their faces shift so fast, little smiles falling as worry takes over. even simon, whose hand is draped on your thigh, tenses, gripping as though he was remembering how he heard your pained whimper or saw you sniffling as the ache echoed, throbbing just below your ribs, choking you up.
“are you feeling any better? did it subside now, at least?” kyle asks.
you nod, quick to reassure them. “the medicine worked! i’m feelin’ better, i promise!”
they relax, tensed shoulders going lax as life flutters back into the table. you smile before sinking ever so closer to simon’s side, shying away from the intensity of their affections for you – your own little band of brotherhood, visceral in the way they care for you.
simon’s grip loosens on your thigh, choosing instead to massage the muscle tenderly. you hum, turning to ask him what he’s getting.
“whiskey, maybe,” he murmurs, his voice muffled by his mask. “you getting your bellini today, love?”
“yes please,” you reply, blinking up at him.
his eyes crinkle again, a telltale sign of his smile, before he pats your thigh and gets up to place the order.
you turn to the group, tuning into johnny’s rambling, listening to him recounting his rally. it was the one you weren’t able to go to because of work, johnny having to reassure you multiple times (even through text) that it’s fine that you’re missing it. so you listened, enraptured, nose scrunching in confusion whenever johnny slips into heavy scottish in his excitement.
“english, mactavish,” simon sighs as he falls back to his seat, startling you. you see johnny flip him off and you make eye contact with kyle, sharing twin looks of exasperation.
simon slides you your bellini and you whisper a thanks, trilling when he noses the top of your head again – your clingy boy.
the conversation rises and falls, sometimes leaving your mind wandering when they start talking about shop, sometimes catching your attention so much that you find yourself leaning on the table, breathless and wide-eyed as you listen to their bike stories – johnny had continued about his rally, kyle talked about the repairs he did for a client who he’s sure is on the run, and john shared that horrifying experience he had on his way home where he thinks he saw a floating woman by the east side highway.
“your turn, big guy,” you say, tapping simon’s knee.
simon finishes his whiskey – his balaclava tugged just enough to show his chin and his lips – before plopping the empty glass on the table with a sigh. you huff a fond laugh, knowing that one glass isn’t enough to satiate the thirst so you dust imaginary dirt off your skirt before standing up.
he tilts his head up in question, arm still hooked around your waist.
“gonna grab us more drinks,” you say. “oh, tell ‘em about the gas station incident!”
he grunts, nodding, and yet he refuses to budge. you fondly roll your eyes and turn to the others. “drinks?”
they all shake their head, johnny specifically saying he’d have to order for himself because he’d want to try the house specialties. you nod, pinching simon’s arm as you dance away from him with a bitten grin, before making your way to the bar.
you prattle away your order, telling the bartender to add the tab to your table, and hover, swaying to the music. it’s a foreign rock band playing, the bass and drums reverberating loudly, you can feel the vibrations pulsing along your body, and you almost get lost in your own thoughts when a hand slides to your back.
you startle, mind quickly cataloguing that this isn’t simon. because simon, for all his impressive silence and his displays of possessiveness, never sneaks up on you like this. he has never let you doubt your safety while with him. so you back away from the stranger’s touch, your hands pressed close to your chest before finally turning to see who went up to you.
the man, who seems to be about your age, smiles upon seeing your face. “hey there, angel.”
the pet name makes you nauseous and your stomach churns once again. you have to ask for the medicine from simon when you return to the table.
“hi,” you squeak, not letting him off your sight.
“you seem new here. i am too.” he laughs, scratching his neck. then, “it really ain’t my scene.”
“uh-huh,” you say, not knowing what else to tell him.
his chuckles peter out, a suave smile replacing what had been an awkward display of forced laughter. he clears his throat. “so, what’s a sweet thing like you doing alone here?”
“she ain’t alone, kid,” the bartender answers for you and you turn to him, surprised, before thanking him as he presents you with your whiskey and bellini.
the bartender nods to you in reply before crossing his arms in front of his chest and addresses the stranger again. “go bother someone else.”
the man arches a brow in question, his lips pursing in distaste. “oh yeah? she seems pretty available to me.”
the phrase hits you badly.
your anxiousness bleeds away to make room for your ire and you snarl, dropping your hands from where they’re pressed on your chest to rest them on your hips.
“what did you just say?” you ask, your voice a measured anger. “i’m fucking what now?”
he raises his hands up like he’s pacifying you. “hey, hey. didn’t mean that, my pretty girl-”
“she’s not your anything, you mad wanker.”
the sound of simon’s voice makes you settle, a wave of safety and comfort washing over you, dousing the angry churning in the pit in your stomach. simon steps from behind the stranger, towering over him, before moving to stand beside you. his hand hovers, questioning, and you give him a soft nod that gets simon pulling you close to him. his hand falls to the small of your back, caressing, and you wonder if he knows that the man had grazed his hand there just minutes ago. if simon’s doing this to overwrite the unpleasant feeling that was sticking to you.
“oh,” the stranger breathes out and you notice the way his hands are trembling, the tight balls of his fists turning his knuckles white. “i, uh, i’m sorry, ghost.” then he’s off, running out of the bar with his tail tucked between his legs.
you huff at the realization that the mad man didn’t even apologize to you. what a fucking prick.
“you doin’ alright there, baby?” simon asks, pulling you to him. he settles on an empty bar stool – you are sure those were filled just minutes ago… – and tugs you so that you are standing between his legs.
he cups your cheeks, thumbs tracing lines just underneath your eyes, and it makes you drag a shaky inhale.
“i’m sorry, sweetheart. i should’ve accompanied you.” simon sounds distressed, his eyes furrowed in the intensity of his worry.
you coo at him, it’s your turn to cup his jaw this time. “i’m alright, si. i promise.”
he shifts his eyes between yours, searching for anything besides the truth, and he folds himself into you when he sees that you mean it. you laugh, patting at his head, wishing that he doesn’t have his balaclava so you can play with his hair, before turning to the bartender who, in the sudden absence of customers by the counter, is watching you two with a pinched smile.
“thank you again,” you tell him and he grunts, nodding. simon straightens up and groans as he stands, his big body unaccustomed to the tiny bar stools.
“yeah,” he says, addressing the bartender. “thanks for bein’ here for my girl, alex.”
the bartender – alex – just waves his hand around in dismissal. “it’s nothin’, really. now go away, i want customers.”
simon and alex laugh, sharing an inside joke, and you swivel your head around in confusion because now that alex had mentioned it, where did everyone go? and why are they all huddled together, far from the bar?
simon closes his hand on your wrist and pulls. you barely manage a goodbye to alex who waves at you in reply.
…alex?
“wait. that’s alex?”
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best believe that simon has connections anywhere he goes. if not for himself, it’s for his girl!!!
me, shamefully staring at the word count (1.8k) of what should’ve been a drabble: well now…
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ceilidho · 5 months
Note
Oh fuck. Can you pretty please write something with bff! Johnny and a broken arm?
I’ve been thinking about this non stop since you’ve posted it!!!
djjfjfvjd ok sure
he whines about it for a week straight :\\ practically comes to you with tears in his eyes, literally the most pathetic man on the planet. if you're roommates, he'll be whining and calling your name every hour of the day, asking for food or back scratches or help getting something for him. if you're friends or coworkers or something, he'll call you and beg, beg, beg for you to come over and help him around the apartment.
it's surprising. for as arrogant and cocky as Johnny usually is, he's also pretty competent - doesn't really lean on you for much, fully capable of doing his own laundry and cooking his own meals. doesn't really complain about it much. but suddenly he's just blowing up your phone 24/7, demanding that you basically live in his room with him until his arm is healed and he's back to normal.
when he first broaches the topic of not being able to jerk off, it's because he's been moody and quick to pick a fight all week. when you ask him what's got him so twisted up, he just snaps, "I have nae come all fuckin' week, lass, what do ye think I'm mad about?"
and that opens up the floodgates. maybe he'd been holding off talking about it before out of habit, but now that he's said it out loud, it's like he can't stop talking about it. always going on and on about how pent up he is, how hard he is, how his left hand doesn't do the trick, doesn't feel right and he just can't come. even turning onto his stomach and humping the bed isn't doing it. even doing that hurts his arm just enough to keep him from coming.
so he begs you to help him out. just with the fleshlight at first, which you pull out from his bedside table with your forefinger and thumb like you're pulling out a gun. it's not surprising that Johnny owns one of these. it's incredibly weird that you're holding it at all, but you can't say you're surprised. and you don't know what the hell possessed you to tell Johnny that you'd help him out, but you find yourself sitting on the bed beside him and pushing the fleshlight down over his cock, trying to look anywhere else but at hime.
it's the first time you've ever seen him naked. he insists on stripping down completely, which you thought was overkill (couldn't he have just pulled his sweats down so you at least didn't have to see his fur covered chest? you really had no clue that he was such a hairy guy under all those clothes), but Johnny begged and pleaded until you helped him take his shirt off. again, probably not something you needed to help him with, but his bottom lip was trembling when he asked and you felt like it would've made you the biggest jerk in the world to say no.
you didn't think he'd be so noisy, but Johnny's so loud. loud enough that you genuinely worry that the neighbours two doors down will hear him. he keeps thrusting up into the fleshlight and making you jump - when you hiss at him to stop it and just lay there, he whines even more, practically crying and saying that, "cannae - cannae help it, kitty, i'm - fuck, fuck, please - fuck -"
you thought once would be enough. surely he wouldn't need to - i mean, you only jerk off like once a week, max. low libido maybe. not Johnny. he calls you the next morning, crying over the phone that he's hard and to please, please, please come over. you almost say no. you should say no.
you go over. this time when you try to use the fleshlight, Johnny squirms on the bed and winces when you lube it up, scrunching up his nose. when you notice, you snip out a, "what's wrong now?" because you feel cornered and weird and you only know how to lash out when you're nervous. he's quiet for a second, but you can see the little fight going on in his head. he wears his emotions right on his face. so you wait him out, hand trembling all the while because - again - he's lying there naked on the bed and you're doing everything in your power not to stare at his dick, which is flushed and hard against his belly and really. strikingly pretty for a dick.
"can ye just - " he stops and purses his lips. "it does nae feel the same."
"what are you on about, it's your toy - "
"can ye just use your hand instead?" Johnny begs instead, and you notice now how dilated his pupils are. he licks across his lip. "please, kitty cat - just once, please?"
you tell him no. absolutely not. there's no way. that's weird and way over the line - at least with the fleshlight, there's a barrier between your skin and his cock, but without it? absolutely not.
your face is positively on fire when he humps up into your hand, making you tighten your grip. Johnny's panting against the side of your head, making you curl up close to him. he said your wrist would cramp up otherwise. the moisture from his mouth and his constant panting is making the hair at your temples damp, making you sweat. still it's nowhere near as bad as how much you sweat when the arm he has holding you around the waist tightens and pulls you closer into him, his cock twitching in your hand when your breasts push up against him.
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barefoothighlander · 1 year
Note
HELLO i have a request so ill try my best to explain it okay uhm, so could you do threesome like ghost x reader x könig ? IDK ABOUT THE PLOT BUT LIKE first they dont give in because of the age gap cuz they think y/n is too young or whatever but them they get put in a same room for a night since they had to stop for some serious reasons LIKE IDK YOU TIDY UP ALL THIS MESS BUT PLEASE LIKE THE READER HAS CHOKING KINK AND DEGRADING KINK YOU MAKE THE REST THANK YOU SO MUCH IF YOU DO THIS BECAUSE LIKE I RLLY CANT FIND ANYTHING WHERE READER GETS SANDWITCHED BETWEEN TWO MASSIVE MEN 😭😭 i beg 🙏🙏🙏🙏
I will take every given chance to thirst over these massive men, won't lie I got carried away with this so... enjoy
warnings: mdni (18+), smut, unprotected pinv, threesome, age gap, degradation, some praise, choking, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, mention of alcohol, blowjob, blindfold, oral (fem rec), creampie
You'd been in the safehouse with Konig and Ghost for two days already, two days of waiting in silence for someone to come and rescue you. The two men gave little in means of conversation, sitting quietly in their posts, keeping watch, occasionally glancing over to you.
You grew tired of the quiet within the first night, attempting a few times to spark conversations, the men would give simple responses in the form of hums or nods, not affording you full sentences. They had been awkward around you for a few weeks, the treatment starting after a drunken night at Soaps house, a few rounds of 'never have I ever' and too many rounds of shots.
"Right but if ye were to have a threesome, who'd you pick?" Soaps question makes your eyes widen, your cheeks blushing as you realize you don't even need time to think of your response.
"Ghost and Konig" Your response caused a thick tension to fill the air, you purposefully avoid the gaze of the two men as Soap's eyes lit up.
"I dinnae if you could handle both of them, lass, I mean, they're... large" Soap chooses his words carefully, eyes glancing around the room as the two men remain like statues, your heartbeat racing in your ears.
"Next question" Ghost's voice breaks the tension, you turn your attention back to your drink, heat flushing your skin.
You didn't realize how much your drunken words would affect the men but now, two weeks later and stuck in a safe house with them it showed, barely a word muttered between them.
"What's wrong with you two?" You ask in a fit of either confidence or annoyance,
"What do you mean?" Ghost turns to you
"One day were all chatting and having fun, and the next you two avoid me like the plague"
The men share a look, you throw your arms up in question,
"We aren't avoiding you" Konig shrugs
"I don't know how long we're stuck here and if neither of you will talk I'm going to lose my mind"
"Stop being a brat" Ghosts words make you tense
"Then tell me why you won't talk to me"
"Because you're just a kid," Ghost says, his voice low
"I'm younger than you, that's why you won't talk to me" You scrunch your face
"It's more that you want to fuck us" Ghost states plainly, your body freezes, your eyes widening at his words, you turn to Konig who's just as frozen as you, Ghost rests his weight on one leg, his thumb through the loop of his belt as he stares at you.
"I don't" You stammer
"What about the game the other night?" Konig adds
"Just a game"
"You're a terrible liar kid," Ghost says
"Stop calling me that" Your hands begin to fidget, unsure of what to do under the pressure of their eyes
"What would you rather us call you?"
"My name" Your eyes are glued to the floor, unable to look at them, Ghost moves toward you, his boots heavy against the floor. His hand moves to rest on your chin, tilting your head to face him,
"You sure there's not anything else you wanna be called?"
"Ghost.." Konig warns, "We can't"
"M'not sure about that, it's just us here anyway"
Your skin burns under his stare, his hand moves from your jaw back to rest on his vest, his shoulders broad, his stance purposefully intimidating you.
"Kneel"
Your breath is rapid, you keep your eyes locked on his as you drop to your knees, your neck craned to look at him,
"Ghost" Konig glances between your bodies, his tone stern, a final warning to his teammate
"Do you want this?" He softens his gaze for a moment, giving you an out, you're tiny under his hulking frame, cheeks red as your heart races, you glance between the masked man, focusing your gaze back on his skull mask.
"Please" It comes out as a whimper
"Please what?"
You huff a breath, "Please fuck me"
"Tell him" Ghost turns towards Konig, you follow his gaze, pleading eyes landing on his hood,
"Please, I need you, need you both"
"Oh kleine maus" He releases a deep breath, moving toward you, he stands behind you, you're trapped between the men with no escape, head level with their groins as your mind flurries.
"You gonna be good for us?"
You nod your head
"You gonna take what we give you?" Ghosts hands rest on his belt
"Yes" You can feel your arousal pooling, you slick drenching your panties as you sit, Ghost palms himself over his pants the tent in his pants more visible by the second.
You wriggle your hips, trying to gain some friction on your sex but Konigs hands are quick to settle on your shoulders, keeping you still,
"Careful, you take what we give you, nothing more" His voice echoes through your ears from above, you look up at the men, trying to gage what they were thinking but their masks reveal nothing, you furrow your brows in a silent plea, the sound of Ghosts belt music to your ears.
"You stay focused on me, eyes ahead" Ghost orders, you nod, doe eyes staring at him as you feel Konig kneel behind you, his hands roaming your frame.
Ghost unzips his pants letting his cock spring free, you wet your lips at the sight, a sudden nervousness taking over your body as you realize how big he is. He takes his cock in his hand, pumping it a few times,
"Don't worry, you can take it"
He teases his leaking tip against your lips, smearing his slick against the skin as you part them, flattening your tongue, he runs his tip over the muscle, gathering your saliva on it before pushing in an inch. You hum around him, the taste of his pre cum salty on your tongue.
Konig's hands move to roam under your shirt, bunching the fabric above your breasts before urging your arms up so he can lift it, his hands moving to paw at your breasts. The contact forces a moan from your throat, the vibration making Ghost let out a small grunt as he pushes deeper into your mouth.
Ghosts hand cups your jaw, pulling your gaze up to him, you stare at him through your lashes, he squeezes your jaw lightly asking permission, you nod slightly and blink your eyes at him. You brace your hands against his thighs as his fingers pull your hair back, he thrusts into your mouth slowly, allowing you time to breathe before he pulls out all the way, forcing his cock into the back of your throat, forcing you to gag around him.
You breathe through your nose as his tip brushes against your throat over and over, the saliva from your mouth polling around the base of his cock, dripping down to his balls.
Konig's hands roam further down your frame, his fingers slipping past the band of your pants to cup your sex, the contact making you moan around Ghost's length.
"Scheiße so wet already, kleine schlampe" His fingers tease over your clothed pussy, you move your hips to grind down on his fingers and he pinches your clit, forcing a muffled yelp from you.
"Needy slut" He breathes in your ear, his words going straight to your core, tears prick your eyes as Ghosts thrusts deep into your mouth, pulling his cock out as your head falls forward, gasping for air,
"Please, touch me" You pant,
"S'that what you want you fucking slag, need Konig's fingers to stretch you out while I fuck your throat?"
"Yes, God please" You beg, your chest heavy
"Earn it" Ghosts hand moves his cock back to your lips, your reach to grip his length, your saliva working to help you glide your digits up and down his cock, taking him into your mouth as Konig's hand dips below your panties, you clench your eyes shut as he pushes his fingers into you, his thumb settling against your clit as the digits pump into your weeping cunt.
"Eyes up here" Ghost's hand grabs your cheek, forcing you to look at him, your work his length, flattening your tongue to allow him deeper into your throat, gagging around his cock as Konig's fingers curve to swipe against your sweet spot.
You moan around Ghost's cock, his grip on your hair growing tighter as your hand pumps him, you keep your eyes locked on his as Jonig's fingers stretch you out, his thumb circling your clit making you clench down on him, his chest is pressed to your back keeping you still, you're trapped between the men.
Konig's free hand moves to pinch your hardened nipple, the sensation bringing you closer to the edge, Ghost can feel your movements become sloppy, his hand moving to grab atop yours, guiding it over his cock,
"You wanted it, now take it," He says through gritted teeth, he buries his cock in your throat and you arch against Konig, the hand on Ghost's thigh digging into the muscle as you reach your peak, whining and moaning around Ghosts cock,
"That's it, filthy girl" Konig coos in your ear, his fingers fuck you through your high as Ghost holds your jaw steady, his balls tighten as his head falls forward, strings of curses and grunts coming from him as he spills into your mouth, his seed dripping down your throat.
Your tears stain your cheeks as you swallow around him, gasping for a breath as he pulls out, a string of saliva dripping from his tip as you fall forward. Konig pulls his hands from you, his hands settling on your hips, helping you up, he holds you against his form and you feel his hard-on press against your back, the sensation making a shiver run up your spine.
He guides you toward the bed that sits in the corner of the room, helping you to sit on the edge before moving his hands from you.
“Close your eyes kleine maus”
You do as he says, fluttering your kids shut till your sight is consumed by darkness, you follow the sound of the men, the noises of their buckles clattering and they drop their pants down. You hear footsteps near you, hands holding the sides of your face as a piece of fabric is placed over your eyes, and tied behind your head.
“For identity's sake,” You hear Ghost say, you can’t see him but you can smell him, gunpowder and tobacco invades your senses as he moves from you.
You feel the mattress dip below you, strong arms pulling you back against the bed as your limbs splay across the sheets, rough hands knead at your breasts causing soft meals to fall from your lips, another pair tugs at your pants, pulling them from your legs so you’re bare, the cool air of the room hitting your dripping pussy, goosebumps form on your skin.
You move your arms to feel the man behind you, trying to figure out which one it was before strong hands grab yours, pinning them down,
“No touching, not yet” The English accent rings in your ears, you sigh quietly as Konig’s hands roam your bare thighs, squeezing at the flesh, you feel his breathe ghost over your cunt, you try to squeeze your legs shut but he holds them open, pressing your lower half into the mattress.
Your head rests in Ghost's lap, one hand holding yours down while his other moves to settle at the base of your neck, his fingers on your pulse point.
“Open your mouth”
You do as he says, dropping your jaw as he leans over your form, spit dripping from his tongue past your lips, you swallow it with a hum.
“Such a good little whore” His fingers squeeze lightly at your neck, your back pulls away from the mattress, arching as Konig’s tongue flicks over your clit.
He laps at your cunt, flattening his tongue to lick a stripe between your folds before closing his lips around your bud, sucking at the nerves as your head pushes further into Ghost's lap.
Ghost releases you, letting your hands roam to grab at anything you can while his settles at your breasts, twisting and punching your nipples, Konig’s tongue flicks over your clit, circling and sucking at the bud while you writhe under him.
“You’re gonna cum once more, then we’re gonna ruin you like the little slut you are” Ghost emphasizes his words with a squeeze to your throat, strangled moans escaping your throat as Konig’s tongue laps at you, inching you toward release.
His hands pin your hips as you try to grind against him, needing more,
“Be good, needy thing” He chastises from below you, his fingers digging into your hips sure to leave bruises as he continues his assault.
“C’mon, be a good little whore and cum on his tongue” Ghost voices rings above you, his words shooting straight to your core, you strain under Konig’s grip, his tongue has you teetering on the edge, he teases his fingers around your entrance earning a wanton moan from you as he pushes in, the new sensation has your vision blinding behind the mask as your second orgasm rips through your body, your hips twitching against his lips while Ghosts hands roam your form.
He eases you through your high, letting you come down slowly before detaching himself,
“Scheiße, taste so sweet, if I knew you sounded like that we would've done this sooner”
Your breaths are heavy as you lay against Ghost, your legs falling against the bed as Konig stands, his hands reach for your waist, flipping you to your stomach with ease, you fall against Ghost as he shifts under you, his hands steadying you as Konig lifts your hips from the bed.
He slots himself behind you, his palms pressing against your ass, spreading it to get a better view, Ghost's hands move to gently remove the mask from your eyes, peeling the fabric from your face, his hand on your chin as he tilts your head,
"Need you to keep your eyes on me, gonna watch you fall apart" His voice is gruff, you wriggle your hips toward Konig in anticipation, his tip gliding between your folds, collecting your slick. Ghost holds your face up, forcing you to strain your neck, an arch forming in your back as Konig lines himself up, pressing his tip against your hole, you gasp at the feeling, now aware of how big he is.
"You can take it, I know you can"
You relax your shoulders, hands pressing into Ghost as Konig pushes in deeper, the stretch of his fingers nothing compared to the way his cock feels,
"So goddamn tight maus," He says through gritted teeth, you struggle to keep your eyes on Ghost, your jaw falling open as gasps and moans slip past your lips,
"S'alright, you'll warm her up for me" Ghost reaches for your hand, moving it to settle atop his growing erection, his hand keeping yours pressed against him.
Konig quickens his pace, your body shifting back and forth against Ghost as he drags his length across your soaked walls, your slick wetting his pubes every time he bottoms out, pressing against your cervix, you watch Ghost with hooded lids, his face remaining stoic as you palm his length.
Konig's grunts fill your ears, his fingers digging into your hips as he pounds into you, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room,
"That's it, love, take it, just like the little slut you are"
You moan at his words and you can see Ghost smirk under his mask, he's watching you unravel under their touch, your legs getting wobbly as Konig stretches you around his massive cock, forcing you to take every inch.
Konig snaked an arm around your waist, lifting your hips up slightly, allowing his fingers to tease around your clit, you let out a gasp and clench down on his length, the rough pads of his fingers circling your bud, his hold the only thing keeping you upright.
You drop your head forward but you're caught by Ghost, his fingers firm around your throat as he pulls your gaze back to him,
"Eyes on me or you don't get to cum"
You let out a small whimper, your free hand digging into the flesh of his thigh as Knoig works you toward another orgasm, the heat in your stomach building to sear your skin, every nerve alive as he thrusts into you.
He works your clit at a vicious pace, your brain a ball of fuzz as it refuses to form words, resorting to strings of moans and whimpers, you stare at Ghost with pleading eyes, tears brimming in them,
"You wanna cum?" He squeezes your throat, his other hand pressing your digits against his now firm cock.
You nod against his grip,
"Use your words"
"Yes, please, need to cum"
"You wanna soak his cock, you fuckin slag, do it, cum for us"
Your orgasm rips through your body, your limbs going limp as Konig holds you up, fucking you through your high as you melt against Ghost, fingers clenching against his flesh.
"Such a tight little pussy, mein gott, gonna make me cum"
Konig buries himself inside you, his balls pressed against your core,
"Beg for it slut, beg for his cum"
You let out a deep moan as the sensation, you're stuffed to the brim, unable to move,
"Please, need your cum, please Konig"
He grips your flesh as his muscles tighten, spilling his load inside you, keeping it deep inside your walls as he gives shallow thrusts, forcing it deeper, his spend floods your walls, spilling out as he pulls from you.
He releases you, letting you fall forward as Ghost moves from his spot leaving you limp against the bed, Konigs hands press against your shoulders, pulling you to all fours while he sits in front of you, resting against his legs. His cock is sitting in front of your eyes, his softening length teasing at your lips, you flatten your tongue but he pulls back,
"Not yet maus, gonna fill you up, don't worry"
You whimper at his words, needing to taste him while Ghost slots himself behind you, your aching core clenching around nothing as his fingers tease your slit, gathering the mixture of spend and smearing it around your skin.
He gives you no time to adjust, bottoming out in a single thrust, Konigs hands keeping you upright as your pussy clenches around Ghost, your tears stain your cheeks and Konig swipes a thumb over the wet skin,
"You're doing so well darling" He purrs, words escape you, diluted to a babbling mess as Ghost pounds into you, Konig kneels forward, his palm stroking up his length as his cock swipes across your wet lips, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth.
Ghost presses a firm hand to your spine, your stomach pressing against the mattress, allowing him deeper while Konigs tip teases at your mouth, you part your lips for him, he smears your saliva around his tip, the taste of his spend lingering on his cock as you flatten your tongue, tasting him.
He pushes into your mouth, your body pinned between the two men as they fill you from both ends, Ghosts hands spread your ass as he lifts his mask above his nose, a string of spit dripping from his tongue to your hole, wetting the skin as he continues to fuck you at an unrelenting pace.
Your vision is blurry, your body weak as the men continue to wreck you, Konigs length pushing past your lips to drag along the inside of your mouth, you moan around his length, your hands digging into the sheets as you try to stay balanced.
"Is this what you wanted, needed to be filled by two cocks you little slut" Ghost emphasizes his words with harsh thrusts, the wet wounds of your hole filling the air as you gag around Konig, his balls slapping against your chi with every thrust.
Their hands keep you steady as your brain clouds with lust, all your senses invaded by the two men as they wreck your body, every part of you claimed by them.
"You wanna walk around with our cum in you? Dirty fucking girl"
The thought makes you hum around Konigs cock, your pussy clenching around Ghost,
"She likes that, you want us to mark you huh, ruin this little pussy"
You can't think to respond, simply resorting to clenching your eyes and arching your hips further toward Ghost, allowing him impossibly deep inside you.
Konig moves his hand to grab your hair, tugging your neck back to allow himself deeper, burying his cock in your throat as you gag around him before he pulls out a moment, allowing you to breathe.
"Please, need to feel you" You beg, your head turning towards the man behind you, Konigs hand moves to your throat, keeping you still in front of him as he thrusts back into your mouth. You're a mess of moans between the men, your hips twitching as Ghost's fingers connect with your swollen clit.
"One more, give me one more" He circles your bud, your cries muffled by Konig's length thrusting into your mouth as your orgasm builds quickly, you want to beg him to stop but you can't, your body moulding to the men as they bring you back to the edge.
The coil inside you threatens to snap as Ghost swipes your clit in time with his thrusts,
"Scheiße, look at me" Konig pants above you, you tilt your head to face him, your skin red, your lips puffy as you stare at him through your lashes. He stares at you with a piercing gaze and your orgasm erupts in your chest, clenching around Ghost while you moan around Konig, your body trembling under the men as your vision goes white, a dull ringing filling your ears.
"That's it, fuck" He buries himself in your throat, his seed filling your mouth as his hips twitch, you hum around his tip, your tongue lapping up every drop from his cock as he pulls out with a pop.
You take a deep breath, panting as Ghost pounds into you, your head falling forward as your arms give out, your drool pooling under your cheek as he presses you into the mattress.
"So fucking good" Ghost grunts, leaning over your frame as his tip prods at your cervix, he cums with a growl, his sounds buzzing above you while he fills you with his seed, your abused hole milking him. He keeps his softening cock inside for a moment, pulling it out and replacing it with his fingers, pushing the leaking spend back inside you, your hips flinch from the stimulation, your slick coating the insides of your thighs.
You fall forward, your body limp against the bed, the mattress dips under the weight of the men, Ghost lays back against the bed, his arms tugging you against him so your head can rest on his chest. Konig turns to grab a small cloth, easing himself down the bed to carefully wipe around your core, careful to avoid your swollen clit as he cleans you.
You catch your breath while Konig lays behind you, his arms snaking around your waist to hold you, your limbs are tangled between the two men while your heartbeat relaxes. His hands draw lazy patterns over your skin as your muscles ease, melting into the men,
"Did so well" Ghost places a soft kiss on the crown of your head, your cheeks pressed to the exposed skin of his upper chest, the warmth of the men comforting your sore body as the light of the sun peaks through the windows of the house.
"So good for us" Konigs hands trace over your skin, his chest flush with your back as he sandwiches you between him and Ghost, the thrum of their heartbeats filling your ears.
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cod-fishing · 5 months
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Thinking about Price being possessive over his boys. Not romantically or sexually (he likes to tell himself), but any time Soap starts chatting about some bear he met in a bar during leave, or Gaz mentions a girl who gave him her number, he can feel himself bristle. He tries to bury it, but it only gets worse after Las Almas, their bonds forged in far too much blood, and he struggles to bite down discouragement for any connection outside their little family.
When soap and ghost finally get together, he can’t figure out which of them he wants to throttle, but the sensation is intense nonetheless. Enough that he can’t stop himself from ordering them to his office and dressing them down so meticulously his old drill Sargent would be proud. They both look defiant. At perfect attention, military perfect in their stance, but fire in both of their eyes. It’s only when Soap, jaw clenched, demands if Price is going to transfer them that the Captain falters.
He sits heavy into his chair, and orders his boys at ease.
“I could never let go of either of you,” he finds himself gritting out through cigar smoke and choking emotions, far too unfiltered, “I just don’t want you boys to get hurt.”
He sees them soften, understanding. Not expecting a real answer, Price asks them their intentions with one another. He doesn’t want either of them to hurt the other, and while he knows they both have hearts of gold, they’ve got a lot of thorns as well. But they talk, and Soap is his usual genuine self and Ghost- Simon, really - is more honest and open than Price has seen him be ever, so…
He says okay. But keep me updated, he says. The good and the bad. They nod, and he assumes he’ll have to pry information out of them, and they move on.
Miraculously, they do keep him updated. Soap comes knocking one day, and Price asks about those reports he sent him off with and Soap says, aye, captain, got those for you, but ah…can I tell you something sweet Ghost did for me today? He’s bursting with joy when Price looks at him properly, and how can he say no to that?
Ghost, too, comes in one day, and asks to speak with the captain. Need some advice, sir. Johnny wants to take me home to his family for the holidays and I’m feeling real conflicted, he says. And they talk it out, fingers playing with the rims of their whiskey glasses. Price gets this feeling in his chest, likes he wants to reach out and trace his fingers somewhere else, but he ignores it.
It keeps happening that way, Price getting deeper and deeper in their relationship. He knows everything about the two together - almost everything. Ghost is on a solo mission one day and soap is moping, and so price pulls him into his office with the intention of getting him plastered and making him go to bed.
Instead, Johnny gets talkative. He should have known.
“God, Price, you wouldn’t believe the things he can do with his mouth. His fingers, too, lord knows where he learned it, but it’s like he took a fucking class on making me cum just from the teasing alone.”
“You’ve heard his voice captain, I mean no wonder I was creaming my pants to be with him so bad, and boy was I right. Downright evil how good it sounds during and early morning shag.”
And, even worse than all that, somehow…
“Well you know me, I like to be the best. So I told him we should start training my throat, so I can actually take his monster cock, the bastard. Did pass out the first time but we’ve been taking it slowly but surely ever since.”
And Price just…he should shut him up, but instead, he just takes it. Just lets the lad ramble about his love, like some lass back at home pinning for her deployed soldier. He hates it, he hates it, he tells himself. But he takes it for Johnny, and for Simon, and for the trust they have put in him.
And when he fists his cock in his quarters later that night, aching from being hard for so long, he can’t help but picture all those filthy things Soap told him.
Maybe, all this time, he was just jealous.
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granddaughterogg · 2 months
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So, you're the newest addition to Task Force 141 and you Make a Move on one of the boys. How will they react?
Johnny Soap MacTavish: With utter glee. "Took ya long enough, lass! Thought you'll never shoot your shot!" He'll announce with amusement. Our perky Scotsman is an absolute Sexpot - and he knows it. He is also a master of Living in the Moment aka Seizing the Day. Rules and regulations be damned. "So what do you say?" He'll ask, filling your personal space with all that muscle and clasping those strong hands around your waist. "Wanna go on a date first…" Johnny wiggles his painterly eyebrows. "...Or shall we skip to the good part?"
Ghost: When you confessed that you'd like to spend some time with him in private, he didn't seem thrilled. As is usual case with Ghost, he didn't seem like caring one way or another. All you got in the way of a reaction was his hand, holding the cigarette and now stilled halfway to his mouth. He threw you one of his Stares - Simon Riley's eyes are as beautiful as they are cryptic, you've never been able to read those dark peepers surrounded by white, seemingly frosted eyelashes of dizzying length. Then he muttered something under his breath and walked away. You didn't hear a word from him for the next three days, apart from work orders anyway. Disappointment and embarrassment tormented you in turns. You were silently cursing your big, reckless mouth. On the fourth day he approached you as if nothing had ever happened and said: "Allright". "Allright what, Sir?.." You asked, dumbfounded. "I agree. We should fuck."
Gaz: Oh, this beautiful boy. Out of the whole squad he's probably the one best adapted to Living in a Society. He reacts as any sensible man would: with a charming smile, a proud, joyful gleam in his eye, a trace of a blush almost. "Gosh, Private, really…Me? Well, girl, you got outstanding taste." "Don't I know it," you answer boldly. "Look, babe," he says in a hushed voice, coming closer and putting his hands on your shoulders, "Cap will rip my head off and piss in my neck if he finds out that I'm fooling around with a subordinate...so we're gonna have to be extra careful, 'kay? Can you promise me that?" You nod enthusiastically. This is so exciting!
Captain Price: So you like to live dangerously. There is no safe way that you can Put the Moves on your commander. You know that...right? On the other hand - if you're gonna break the rules, break them hard and break them for good. Tell him that you desire him. That you can't stop thinking about him. Pick a moment when the rest of the guys won't be within a kilometer radius. Say your line and look into those hard, cloudy sky-coloured eyes which have just grown big and round with shock. "Kid," says Price, his voice suddenly a little breathy, which is oh so hot: "Are you out of your goddamn mind?" "Only for you, Sir." Flutter those eyelashes. Come on, lay it on thick. It's been some time since anyone has thrown themselves at the old man. He will sigh the mother of all sighs, then drag one hand across his tired face. "I am you commanding officer." "That you are, Sir." He will come closer, both hands behind his back. Then he'll reach out and gently, oh, so gently touch your cheekbone. "You do realize tha' I could tell you to pack up and send your arse home?" His voice is very meticulously level, but you can feel the volcano bubbling underneath. "I do, Sir. But I just couldn't live a lie. I want you." That boldness will earn you another sigh - this time more ragged. He'll trace his finger over your upper lip, say: "Well fuck me sideways..." like a man who has just experienced a miracle - and then John Price will embrace you in a kiss, shameless, deep and hungry.
This man has been criminally touch starved. Congratulations, you'll have your hands full from now on. Not to mention your…other regions.
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