Drabble that takes place after The Masks We Wear and In the Bleak Midwinter
Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x F!Reader (Jaguar) x Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish
Chapters: 1/1
Notes: EXPLICIT SMUTTY CONTENT 18+, I was driving with the windows down, wind in my hair, sun baking me face, so obv I had to write a fic inspired by it, and the song Texas Sun, takes place after The Masks We Wear but also works as a stand alone, all u need to know is Soap overheard Ghost and Jag banging in Italy a while back, u knew Johnny was gonna make a love triangle appearance at some point, I churned this out today and don't have a beta reader so enjoy
In the Bleak Midwinter | The Masks We Wear| AO3 | MASTERLIST
Ghost watched you from the back seat of the GMV; his signature skull mask snug across his face and sharp eyes on you. The vehicle kicked up red dust as you drove. Off-road and hot and somewhere in the desert. Warm wind whipped through the truck—a respite as it rushed against your sweat-stained tank top. Soap was in the passenger seat, chatting away.
“Ahhh good shite. Nothin’ like a job well done, ey L.T.?”
Simon grunted in agreement.
“Not too bad yourself there, bonnie. Glad I finally got to see you in action on the field—now I see why Simon’s obsessed with you,” the Scot laughed as he looked at you with something of a twinkle in his eye.
“Nice to see I’ve converted you to the Domination of Jaguar,” you joked back.
“Didn’t have ta convert me. I’d have come willingly.”
“That’ll do.” Simon’s voice was a bit too loud, a bit too terse.
You glanced at him in the rear-view mirror. The orange sun glinted off your aviators.
He’d been acting short with you the whole day, which was surprising since the mission was executed perfectly. And jealous Simon was new. The Brit was usually great at keeping his emotions in line—especially on missions. But you’d be lying if you said this newfound possessiveness didn’t do things for you. Each bump along the rocky terrain made the hulking man shift in his seat behind you.
“Ack. C’mon, Ghost. Shouldn’t have kept the mic on if you’re the jealous type,” Johnny replied, all humor void from his voice. His mohawk ruffled in the wind.
Neither of you had brought up the fact that Simon left the coms on that fateful night in Venice.
His large hands spread you, sliding his fingers inside while he ate you from behind.
Thassit. Need you to come for me, doll.
It had become some unspoken thing between the three of you. It had changed the dynamic.
You’d always liked Soap. He was an easy guy to get along with and he placated Simon, which earned your respect. And besides, there was some kind of chemistry between the two as well, but you never pried. During your first stint with the 141, you were hardly close with Soap. There wasn’t the time to know him that well.
Then after the comms incident, the three of you became closer. Some triangle of tacit intimacy. Sometimes testing its boundaries—like Soap was doing today.
Simon shifted again in the back seat. His large frame took up most of the space.
“Safe-house’s just up ahead,” you broke the growing silence.
_____
The sun was dipping to the horizon when you pulled in.
“Hope this place has running water,” Johnny said as he hopped out of the vehicle, slinging his rifle into his hands. Everyone smelled of dust and grit and sweat.
He did a quick sweep of the shack while you and Simon grabbed the gear from the back of the GMV.
“Everything okay?” you asked, leaning against the metal beam of the truck.
His eyes raked you in. “You tell me.” It came out gruff as he grabbed a duffle and made his way to the house. Well. Guess that’s where the line was drawn.
Ragged curtains filtered in the golden hour lighting, bathing the inside of the shack in a sepia tone. You set the bags down on the floor next to the worn couch, sporing a little cloud of dust, and looked around. At least there were no bugs… that you could see.
Simon had stalked off to investigate the bedroom. Johnny greeted you again.
“Lassies first,” he said, gesturing to the bathroom.
You smiled, but looked back to find Simon.
“S’alright. I’ll go an’ talk to him,” he rested his hand on your shoulder. It was so warm.
Once inside, you turned on the shower and undressed; your skin was still hot from the sun. As you stepped under the tepid water, you couldn’t help but wonder what was bothering Simon. Obviously Soap’s comment didn’t help, but even before that he’d been in some kind of mood. The water ran over your face as the dirt dripped down your body and spiraled into the drain.
An unnecessary bang interrupted your thoughts as Simon swung the door open. He stepped in and began to strip off his clothes. You watched the beautiful man from under the spray of the shower. Watched the rippling of his muscles as he lifted his shirt—the scars that littered his pale skin shifting as he moved to undress, until he was left with only his mask. You got wet just looking at him; it never got old.
He was already half hard when he stepped into the shower, taking up most of the small space.
“Hi,” you breathed as his hands stroked down your body. He pressed his erection against your stomach. “Is this why you’ve been acting like an ass toward me all day?”
“Y’ave no idea, doll. Watchin’ you work in that outfit… does things to me, Jag.” He rutted up against you, needing the friction. So he was just horny.
You reached to raise the bottom of his mask, exposing his perfect lips. “Gonna waterboard yourself in this, baby.” But he towered above the spray of the showerhead.
It had become second nature now, wrapping your arms around his huge frame for leverage and kissing him. You tasted the salt from his lips as you laved your tongue against his. Simon’s hands reached down and squeezed your ass, then started stroking your clit and folds, pulling a moan from you.
“Johnny’s gonna join,” he said as he slid a finger into you.
“I—What?” but he slid a second in and started undulating and curling his fingers so sweetly inside that your mind went blank. You reached for his cock to regain some control of the situation. He was rock solid now. “T-thought you were jealous back in the car,” you managed.
Simon groaned into your mouth as you worked him just the way he liked. “Just wanted ‘im to shut up before I made you pull over and fucked you in the back seat.”
So he was really horny.
“Saying I should wear tank tops more oft—” but he silenced the tease as he quickened the pace of his fingers inside you, making your knees weak and brining a heat straight to your core.
At that moment, Johnny walked in, taking in the scene of you getting finger fucked by a very hard Simon.
“Steamin’ Jesus…” he exhaled, frozen in place. You turned toward him, looking him up and down with half lidded eyes and a slack jaw while Simon sucked at your neck and continued to work you. Johnny started stripping.
But Simon already had you pressed up against the shower wall and your orgasm on the brink. You watched as Johnny walked to you, planting soft kisses up your arm as he reached for your breasts.
“Christ, look at you. So pretty as you take him," he breathed. "This ok?” You nodded.
His calloused hands squeezed, thumbing over your pebbled nipples. This was really fucking happening. Seeing Soap naked and having his warm hands play with your tits while Simon worked your now soaked pussy so perfectly was all too much. Your eyes flicked back to Simon’s as he sped up the tempo, knowing you were about to break. An orgasm pulsed through you and you dug your nails into his tattooed arm and Soap’s back.
“Fffuck, Simon!!” you ground out, clenching against his fingers.
He stifled your cry with his mouth while you rode out your orgasm. It was a sloppy kiss; when he pulled back, saliva strung between both your lips.
“Take ‘er, Johnny,” he said hoarsely, as he turned you around. You barely had time to recover.
With Simon, you, and Soap inside, the shower was severely cramped. Soap was under the spray of the water now, while you rested your weight on him. Your legs felt weak after the orgasm, but his hands smoothed down your waist to steady you. Behind you, Simon patted his heavy cock on your ass.
“So pretty when you cum, Jaguar.”
You followed the stream of water that traced down the Scotsman’s body. He was stockier than Simon, with less scars and more hair. You reached for his bronzed cock—a stark contrast from Simon’s perfectly pink one. He was already throbbing.
“Ahhh Jesus,” he breathed as you started to pump him.
“Did you get this hard when you heard us fucking through the comms?” you slurred, placing kisses along his neck. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as you bit softly into his meaty shoulder. He let out a sharp exhale and bucked into your hands.
“She asked you a question, Sergeant,” Ghost reached over you, thumbing Soap’s lips with his tattooed hand before sliding it into his mouth. You watched Soap suck as you squeezed the head of his cock—his precum dripped over your fingers.
Simon’s thumb made an audible pop as Soap pulled away and shook his head.
“Harder,” was all he said before taking Ghost’s thumb against the flat of his tongue again.
“You’re sick,” Simon breathed, but it was low and unravelled. And it clearly had an effect on your beast of a man because the next thing you felt was his cock pushing through into you, stretching you out so perfectly as it always did. You moaned and you pressed your forehead against Johnny’s chest.
The Scotsman reached for your hair, grabbing a fistful in one hand and pressing you firmer against him, while the other gripped Simon’s wrist. Your moans grew louder against Johnny’s chest while Simon fucked you hard, pushing deeper with each thrust. His right hand was leaving bruises on your hips with how tightly he was squeezing you.
You fisted Johnny cock with one hand while the other circled your clit.
“Jesus, Jaguar.” “Take me so fuckin’ good, luv.” The men said at the same time.
You couldn’t help but laugh before Simon picked up the pace and fucked the noise out of you; the sounds of your ass slapping against his massive thighs filled the small room. You weren’t going to last long.
Pumping harder, you used both hands on Soap’s cock now, trying your best to keep a steady rhythm while Simon pounded into you from behind. You burrowed into the crook of his neck, stifling your moans while sucking and biting at him. His hips were stuttering as he thrust into your hands. The water pulled your hair down.
“Jaguar I’m—feck,” Johnny thunked the back of his head against the shower’s tile. He let go of Simon’s arm and grabbed your face with both hands, crushing his lips against yours. His tongue vied for yours, kissing you open mouthed and messily, as his hot cum shot across your stomach. Johnny moaned against your lips as you pumped every last drop from him. You clenched around your lover.
Groaning, Simon took the opportunity to snake his free hand around and punish your clit, while sinking his entire length into you. It was his dirty little trick to always bring you over the edge immediately. Your legs buckled as another orgasm overtook you, but the men held you upright as Simon forced you deeper onto his cock. It felt like your organs were pushed into your throat. You cried in euphoria but no sound escaped as you rode out your orgasm on his punishing thrusts. With how tightly your pussy clamped around him, he finally released inside of you—biting into your shoulder as he filled you so full that he leaked out.
By the time everyone came down from their orgasms, the water had gone cold. It was a small miracle any of you were upright by the end of it. Johnny leaned against the wall, holding you to him as Simon slowly pulled out. Hot cum dripped down you leg and was washed away by the water.
“Jesus, Ghost, you made her bleed.”
Simon brushed the small beads of blood from the bite mark on your shoulder and placed his mouth over it, sucking softly. You moaned breathlessly into Soap’s neck.
“Sorry, luv."
Turning around, you rested your back flush against Johnny. Could feel his cock twitch as he reached around to caress your breasts. Simon closed the distance and kissed you, smoothing over the points of your hip bones with his thumbs. His mask was soaked under the water. Black streaks ran down his face from his eye makeup. And yet he still looked like the most perfect thing in the world.
“That’s okay, baby,” you sighed into his kiss. “Know how you can make it up to me.”
Considering it’s Sunday today in my timezone, and will be Sunday for the rest of the world in a few hours, I’m obligated to tell you that I have a sin sideblog for Minato. It’s available by request :3c
Yo, what's up my dude. Can you recommend any yoonkook fics of like... fluffy smut? where they just love each other and are nice to each other? the kind one may need after a 50k fic ending in character death. thank you 🎃👍
My guy, fluffy smut is my JAM. I love that shit so much you have no idea! So I got you, my guy :} I got you!
Chocolate Isn’t Just For Eating by TheOrgasmicSeke[Domestic AU][Sensual Play]
a night hotter than the sunlight in July by Miro (KuroTsubasa)[Praise Kink][Body Worship]
temporary love by strangedesires[Slight VKook Mention][Idol Jungkook]
mind, soul, and body by hakho[Domestic AU]
The First of Many to Come by Tankunish [Domestic AU][Married]
I Wanna Be Locked in You and Swim in You by trippingyoongi [Sub!Yoongi and Sub!Top!Jungkook][Sequel to ‘I Want to Know You More, Venture through Your Deep Forest of Mystery’]
it’s just me and you by makemebegin [Domestic AU][Slight Size Kink]
hold me close by wonyoongs [Domestic AU]
because it’s a meaningless dream anyway by hakho[Two-Shot][Mentions of Homophobia][Mentions of Suicide]
The Tortoise and the Hare by agustadams [Crush at First Sight][Strangers to Friends to Lovers]
Let me know what you think :D Just an FYI, some of these are a bit long before it gets to the smut, or there is moments with smut before it gets to the fluffy/loving smut, but I promise it is worth the read!
Plum flavoured lollipop ceased clicking menacingly within the redhead's mouth. The sound should have annoyed even himself, yet he had an entire lifetime of listening to himself talk thus the teeth chattering clamour could have passed as the whirl of eager wind. Body bent over, forearms pressed against the railing of the tenth floor hallway, and back bent with a slight arch to set hip jutting out with a eye catching flair. There was nothing innately feline or serpentine about Reno's eyes unlike that of the fabled silver general, yet gemstone hues suddenly sharpened to dangerously mischievous edges. Oral fixation. White stick of the candy was twirled between calloused digits before he bent his arm and smacked the sticky plum crownhead against his lips.
( ❛ Mmmm. ❜ )
It would have been easy to cut through the filter separating thought from mouth, but Reno took his time — equal parts weighing his potential words and letting the anticipation swell.
( ❛ Doesn't everyone do it? You know stick it to the boss, mentality. Verdot though? Nah. That was just ... no. How do you think your dad would have looked like? His expression I mean if I got up behind him and — ❜ )
While lips pulled up with a devilish grin, his own short imagination formed wrinkles of disgust between his eyebrows. If Reno would displeasure with what filth he produced, surely the son would find it abhorrent. The Turk gave the candy a few more licks before it withdrew from his mouth once again; arms pushed back and body returned to neutral posture.
( ❛ That's who you were referring to, right? Or maybe ... you meant surpassing a supervisor. Not ... y'know that. ❜ )
Rufus was certainly surprising him. Was he dangling bait in front of Reno to purposefully lure him into the grip of trouble and punishment or was the ice king trying to bond?
“Is it a common fantasy to top your superior?” @ivory-paragon ( is this a love confession, rufus ? )
Truths, creatures of darkness, hit the ugliness of light. Cover had been carefully curated, however the mask, even guided by the expert hands of spy, was difficult to maintain in static place with time and whispered words dragging by. Coming to known his target ( superficially at least ), Reno often imagined how Clive would react. He had not dreaded the image; he was amused by it. The hero moved easily by the plight of the people was a too soft despite his powers and his strength.
The redheaded spy expected his men to do something more violent and spontaneous than the bearer. He was proved wrong. Even if surprise had not been in play, Reno would not have resisted being tossed around and shoved against the nearest wall. The spy was hated. Targeted. Luck was not in play; he succeeded and survived in life because of his wits and capabilities. Hands rose in mock surrender as a mischievous glint glazed across turquoise eyes upon seeing the appearance of the curved blade in Clive’s hand. Drowning on his blood would have been quite the shock, but Reno knew the soft bearer did not have it in him.
( ❛ Here I thought you liked me. ❜ )
Grin dominated his appearance. Be it words or expression, the other man didn’t want any of it and pressed cool serrated edge against the redhead’s neck. Reno sedated his grin, just a degree, as he prepared to break a wrist if it really came down to it. Head tilted to the side while making sure to not press the distance between flesh of his neck and the edge of the knife. Eyes bore into Clive’s face . . delving deep into his mind.
( ❛ So, you showed me yours. Can I show you mine? ❜ )
🔪 🔜 // clive presses a knife to reno’s neck from the front. @outlaws-legacy ( is this a love confession, clive ?? )
