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Hush was the name they gave you. The 141 had never heard you speak, only the odd grunt to confirm you were still alive over the comms. They'd never seen your face either, although it didn't seem to bother people as much as it bothered them with Ghost.
You didn't hold as much of a presence as him. He stood over a foot taller than you, and although you packed a fair amount of muscle for your build you were nothing compared to the unit of a man that Ghost was.
The only person who knew what you looked and sounded like was Price, because he'd been the one to recruit you. You'd been a beat cop, far too skilled for the work you were doing. Just happened to be assigned a hostage deesclation with Price and he had admired your work. He'd warned you about the 141 being all men, set in their ways and unsure how they'd handle a mid twenties barely five foot tall woman joining their group. You knew that just meant you'd have to prove yourself harder, like you'd been trying to do with the police for years. So with Price's permission you'd opted to, for lack of a better term, cosplay a short mute man.
However, it had worked. They'd accepted you into the group. You were of course subject to some not-so-light ribbing about your height and how they couldn't believe Spec Ops were recruiting toddlers, but all in all they'd been welcoming and worked well with you.
You'd been on missions with each of the members individually and in different combinations, although you always loved being grouped with Soap and Ghost, the banter stopping the boredom settling in.
You'd had your fair few scrapes and near misses, Price always being the one to check in on your recovery so as not to reveal your identity to the group. You were the favourite target for most enemies when they spotted you; they thought you an easy kill with your height and small build. But it was rare that they spotted you. You could fit in spaces that the men of the 141 could only dream of, and to this day you'd never missed a shot. You were strong for your size too, a formidable opponent in close combat with speed on your side too. The 141 respected Hush, their stealthy new friend.
~*~
The mission had gone tits up from the get go, when a missile had been launched at the road Ghost had been driving you and Soap along. Your military vehicle had flipped leaving you all scrambling to escape the crushed wreck while bruised and bloody.
As you'd staggered behind Soap towards towards a nearby building hoping to check one another over for any lethal wounds, you'd taken a particularly unfortunate shot to your right side, just below your rib cage. You'd tried to ignore it and carry on, but Ghost had been behind you and seen the bullet pass through. He'd rushed ahead and scooped you up, carrying you over his shoulder. You hated to admit it but the way he'd lifted you with such ease made your stomach flutter. You'd worked so hard to become a sturdy and immovable person, and here was Ghost lifting you off your feet as if you weighed nothing to him.
You heard additional footsteps on top of Ghost's and Soap's and raised your pistol, looking around. The man who you assumed had shot you rounded the corner. You aimed and fired directly between his eyes, scowling at him as he crumpled to the ground.
"Nice one, Hush," Ghost muttered, his breathing coming out in harsh little pants as he rushed alongside Soap to find a building with some structure to it.
You heard what sounded like a door being kicked open, then Ghost rushed forward and placed you onto your feet.
"Thank god you're a little fella," he remarked.
You rolled your eyes, closing the door and looking around the room. The floor was thick with dust and the wallpaper was peeling and mouldy. A nice room by the 141's standards. You held your hand over the bullet wound, applying pressure to the front only to feel blood spilling from the exit wound on your back. You felt dizzy.
"I'm gonna check the other room," Soap whispered, gesturing to the doorway at the back of the room.
He walked towards it, pistol drawn. Once he was close enough to touch the door it burst open, and three men jumped out, rifle fire drowning out their yells. By some miracle none of you were hit with the bullets as Ghost and Soap took one out each. Unfortunately, you were dizzy and slow to draw your weapon, and one of them got behind you.
The man demanded in broken English that Ghost and Soap lower their guns, held a large jagged blade to your throat, and called you English scum. Fair. Unlike Ghost's balaclava, your mask didn't cover your throat, so the blade instantly snagged your skin, leaving a thin trail of blood leaking down.
"I leave here unharmed," the man said, pressing the blade just a little bit harder.
You stood as still as you could, with blood leaking from two holes in your stomach and now a line on your throat. Your stared at your colleagues, waiting to see how they'd react.
"Go then," Ghost said, waving the man towards the door.
The man slowly withdrew the blade, cutting you more on the way. He rushed to the door. Both Soap and Ghost reached for their guns, but before they could even act you'd pulled the trigger and the man lay dead in the doorway.
You clicked your safety back on and swallowed the bile rising in your throat as it always did after a close call. Ghost moved to pile the bodies up, make the room 'comfortable', while Soap rushed to your side.
"You need patchin', I'm afraid the shirt and the mask are gonna have to go for a sec," he said, his usual friendly smile stretching his lips as he led you over to the most uncomfortable looking bed.
You shook your head.
"No to the shirt or the mask," Soap asked, "Cos I swear if it's another mask thing I'm gonna lose it, I've got enough with this nutter," he gestured back at Ghost whose eyes were crinkled as though smiling at Soap's remark.
When you didn't answer, Soap sighed out a 'fine' and tilted your head back. He started disinfecting your neck wound.
"Fuckin' hell," you spat, the sting taking you by surprise.
The two men froze at the same time as you.
"No way can you speak," said Soap.
"No way are you from fuckin' Birmingham," said Ghost at the same time.
You kept your head tipped back, and closed your eyes, willing time to rewind itself to just before your were stupid enough to speak out loud. Soon enough they'd realise you also didn't have a deep voice, or perhaps they were being too polite to mention that? Perhaps they thought there were other reasons?
"No wonder you didn't want us to hear you," Ghost continued, "A fuckin' Brummy. Ha! Wait 'til Gaz hears this,"
It was the most emotion you'd heard from Ghost. It was how you imagined Soap reacted to seeing Ghost's face for the first time.
Soap stayed quiet, clearly still trying to process hearing your voice. He finished cleaning the wound on your neck; it wasn't deep enough to need stitches, so he just wrapped a bandage around it afterwards.
"I really do need your shirt off for this, Hush," he finally spoke up.
You didn't want to, you'd revealed enough already and you felt sick. Ghost was still staring at you like you were a circus performer although if you took your top off you'd feel more like a stripper, and Soap was looking at you with something akin to awe and confusion in his eyes. But the entry and exit wounds were both still leaking, the dizziness was making you drowsy and you knew Lieutenant Riley and Sergeant MacTavish wouldn't let you sleep while a bullet wound was still wide open.
So, with shaky hands, you tried to remove your tactical vest. 'Tried' being the key word. You'd never let your nerves get the better of you on a job, but apparently taking your vest off was too much to handle.
"Lemme help," Ghost offered, coming over to unbuckle the vest and remove it while Soap prepared what he needed for the bullet wounds. Ghost undressing you almost helped to overcome your nerves with arousal, but you didn't know which would be worse.
Your sports bra just made you look like you had insane pecs through your top, like most of the men of the 141 did. But you had the take the top off, that was the next step. Your hands still shaking, you began peeling the fabric away from your sticky, bloody skin and up over your head. The room fell silent, both Ghost and Soap not breathing for a moment as it was revealed that you were not, in fact, in possession of impressive pecs.
You threw your top to the side aggressively, feeling overheated with eyes on you. Your face was sweating under the mask, so you tore that off in anger too, tossing that in the direction of your top. You tried to cross your arms defensively, but couldn't with the bullet wound, so ended up awkwardly moving your arms about before settling them beside you on the bed.
Ghost was the first to move, barricading the front door after realising what an obviously vulnerable state one of his soldiers was in without tactical gear on. The sound of Ghost's movement kicked Soap into action. He began disinfecting, stitching and bandaging the bullet wounds. The whole time you avoided eye contact with them both.
At some point Ghost had picked up your blood soaked shirt, rinsed it with water from his canteen and hung it up to dry. He then joined you both on the bed. The three of you sat there had the weak wooden legs making unhealthy sounds.
"Sorry for manhandling you earlier," Ghost piped up, "Should'a checked in first,"
"Don't," you sighed, scrubbing your hands over your eyes.
You tipped your head back and swallowed thickly, hyper aware of both men watching your every movement. You couldn't tell if they were fascinated at just being around a woman after so long in close quarters with other men, shocked at the discovery that their friend was a woman the whole time, or they were attracted to you, but the attention was stirring something awake inside you.
"Don't start changing shit just cos you found out I'm not a man. The whole reason I hid it was cos I didn't wanna be treated differently," you explained.
"It's a little different, though," Soap said, his voice rougher than usual, "I've said some dodgy shite to you that I really shouldn't've been saying. Not knowing that you're... y'know,"
"If I didn't like it I wouldn't have let you say it," you retorted.
"Fair, she could kick your arse any day o' the week," Ghost commented.
Soap spluttered something, sounding offended.
"If you ain't gonna speak English, don't speak at all, Johnny," Ghost's tone was teasing, clearly trying to rile Soap up.
You shuffled off the bed, embarrassed that you had to do so in order for your feet to reach the floor. You stretched, your spine and knees popping.
"When can we go back," you asked.
Turning to the bed for your answer, Soap was blushing, clearly having been ogling you during your stretch. Ghost now had one knee up, trying to hide something perhaps? You felt the flutter in your stomach again.
"Who knows about you," Soap asked you, while trying to inconspicuously adjust his trousers.
"Captain Price. And probably everyone higher up. But nobody lower than Price, until today. I just didn't want to be treated like an outsider. Or like something delicate and breakable. Or something to be passed around the group, y'know. Price told me you were good guys but he didn't know what to expect if I joined,"
With that, Ghost and Soap averted their eyes, Soap looking almost ashamed for checking you out. Ghost was pretty much unreadable, as always.
You stayed quiet for a while, Ghost checking in with Price, letting him know you were injured but alive. He and Soap fell into conversation then, and you listened to their mindless chatter. Ghost's bad jokes, Soap's sarcastic remarks and funny stories. You found a stool to sit on, and started to doze off.
Even without your mask, top and vest on you felt warm. Signs of an infected wound maybe, or lingering embarrassment? Or perhaps attraction to the men in front of you? You couldn't tell, but you certainly couldn't risk it being the first option.
"I'm hot," you piped up, interrupting the conversation.
Soap hummed lowly, seemingly in agreement as Ghost punched his shoulder hard, leaving Soap rubbing it and pouting.
"She means she's warm," Ghost said, "It's gonna be warm here at sunset, plus you lost a lot of blood. Come lie on the bed and get some sleep. We'll take you back in the morning,"
The men made space for you and you happily obliged, sleep coming easily.
~*~
The whole secret identity thing was ruined now, and you had built enough of a reputation now for people to start causing trouble with you over your newly revealed gender. So you started running missions without the mask, and without the incredibly constricting layered sports bras. You still wore practical underwear, didn't want to be bouncing around while trying to run, but you didn't try to flatten yourself completely.
You, Gaz, Price, Ghost and Soap had found yourselves at a dirty little bar in civilian clothes having a drink to wind down after a particularly stressful mission where you'd all ended up separated for some time. Thankfully, all being as skilled as you were, you'd gotten out alive with a few minor scratches and got the intel you'd needed.
Ghost wore a plain black balaclava, only revealing his mouth to sip his drink, before hiding it again. Everyone was in jeans and tshirts - tight, show-off-your-military-muscle tshirts. That included you, you had plenty of muscle to brag about, it just sat differently on your frame. Your jeans were a little tighter, and your neckline a little lower, showing off the faint scar that Soap had kindly bandaged for you before.
You were sandwiched between the four men in a booth, Price and Gaz on your right, Soap and Ghost on your left. Soap and Price's legs were pressed up against yours and your elbows knocked theirs every time you sipped the disgusting drinks they insisted on buying you because 'you ain't having any fruity shit on our watch'. Price was smoking a cigar, and the smoke was blowing towards your face as he engaged you in conversation - the smell was nice, and you felt safe and warm.
You swallowed down the last of whatever Price had insisted you drink, then Ghost declared it was his turn to buy your drink.
"Kentucky this time, if they have it," he said, making his way to the bar.
"Can't wait to see your face when you try this one," Soap teased, making Price and Gaz laugh.
You wanted to like Whiskey and other 'sofisticated' drinks, you didn't want to choke on the aftertaste, but one stereotype you couldn't help but fall into was that you loved a fruity drink, something sweet that barely tasted like alcohol. You're allowed to like girl things, sue you.
Ghost plopped the drink down in front of you, taking his seat and watching you. His eyes showed that he was obviously smirking; he knew you were going to hate the drink, you'd already cringed at Soap's and Price's choices for you. You sighed, thanking your wreckless youth of underage drinking for preparing your stomach for this very moment, and took a sip. It was sweeter than the previous drink, but not sweet enough to hide the taste that you dislike in so many of these drinks. You swallowed it and offered Ghost a grimace.
"It's the best one yet," you said.
Ghost laughed, short but genuine, and flipped off Price and Soap. He seemed proud of himself and like he was having fun, perhaps he'd had more to drink than you'd realised, or maybe he was going soft on you all. Soap and Price on the other hand grumbled something about Ghost being your favourite and him paying you off, typical sore loser things.
"How many have you guys had, I'm on glass three," you asked, thinking now was as good time as any to bring it up.
"We've all had two. We'll get there, just been watching you," Soap replied, then seemed to get flustered at his own wording and duck his head.
Then Price picked up a conversation about some football matches they'd missed while they'd been working and what he thought the scores would be, the guys seemed engaged but it didn't interest you all that much. You didn't do much when you got home, you liked to go hiking and travel about as much possible, you couldn't sit still in the sterile flats they gave you to live in. At some point Gaz went and got another round in. He must have taken pity on you because your drink was bright yellow and had a slice of passionfruit in it.
"You guys would be pissed if she'd fed us neat vodka all night while she enjoyed her drinks," he pointed out, avoiding protests from the other three men.
You thanked him and took a sip of the first tasty drink you'd had that night. Admittedly, you drank it rather fast. Soap had moved closer at some point to steal a sip and commented on how much sugar was in it, then the other three men did the same. You were so boxed in, surrounded by men so much bigger than you that you trusted with your life who could cut you down in an instant. Your stomach was doing somersaults. You took a deep breath and leaned back.
"I think I need to slow down," you chuckled breathlessly.
Price felt your forehead, a worried frown creasing his brow. He cared about you all so much, it felt wrong how your skin sizzled at his touch.
You could feel someone staring at you, opening your eyes it was Ghost, of course. He'd been eyeing you up and down, eyes lingering on the faint scar on your neck, the flush on your chest, your cleavage visible with the low neckline of your shirt.
Soap seemed to notice Ghost too since you saw him kick him. Ghost kicked him back a lot harder, but stopped staring.
"So, Gaz," Ghost said, his voice a little rough, "Brummy, eh," he nodded towards you.
Gaz laughed.
"I know! Disappointing! No offence, Hush. You're great. But it's not a great accent,"
"You're right, Manc and Cockney and are so much prettier," you retorted.
"Dragging me into this for nothing," Price scoffed.
"At least you've all got my lovely voice to balance the group out," Soap sing-songed.
The glares he received didn't do anything to discourage his shit-eating grin.
"I know I sound good, and I know you all love listening to me. Don't pretend to hate it," he slung an arm around your shoulder pulling you in for a friendly half-hug as he tried to convince the group they loved his constant chatter - they did, they'd never admit it.
You couldn't help but take a deep breath in. Soap smelled amazing, of course he would, like he'd showered not too long ago, had sweat just slightly but it wasn't unpleasant, you could smell whatever he used in his hair, his detergent, the alcohol on his breath. You felt dizzy again, but you weren't bleeding this time. Maybe next time you went home you should go to a bar and find someone willing to fuck until your next mission, because you were starting to feel out of control. It had been years since you'd been with someone other than your own hands, you were sure based on the way Ghost and Soap had been staring at you that they were the same.
You patted Soap's chest while in his hug, your hand lingering just a little too long, catching his breath hitch a little bit. He released you and you sat up. You leaned towards Price, your eyelids heavy.
"I think I should go to bed,"
Price already had an eyebrow raised, of course he rarely missed anything.
"I think so too," he ushered Gaz out of the way and walked you to the safe house you were staying in - a house with multiple bedrooms heavily guarded by snipers around the area. He led you to your room. "Rest up, Hush,"
~*~
"I. Don't. Speak. Russian," you growled again, for what must have been the fifth time.
The pistol pressed harder into the back of your head and you were forced down onto your knees.
You'd been stupid, too cocky. Everyone had done it at some point, got too confident in their own skills. You'd been certain you could sweep the building alone and hadn't waited for Ghost and Soap's backup. You'd shot 2 men before someone had snuck up behind you and begun yelling at you in Russian. You'd been beaten up a bit before the man's backup had arrived.
You were surrounded now by five Russian men, all armed. The one behind you was pressing his gun into your head so hard it was as though he was trying to force it through.
You knelt on the floor thinking through what your next steps could be.
"Hush, how copy," Ghost on the comms, you couldn't answer.
After some silence, he repeated himself.
"Fuck's sake, Hush," Soap panted through the comms, obviously running full speed.
You knelt on the hard floor for what felt like an eternity, each of the men shouting various Russian phrases at you and beating you when you couldn't respond. One of the men kept stroking your cheeks and jaw, making you recoil with disgust. Then as quickly as it began, it ended. Ghost and Soap clearing the room efficiently.
You went to rise to your feet, but Ghost pushed you back down to your knees.
"The fuck was that," he snapped.
You stared up at him, before glancing to Soap who was pacing while pinning you with an angry stare.
"Didn't wanna tell us you were moving in," Ghost was angry, and on your knees he seemed a lot bigger than usual, "Thought you'd keep us in the dark about where you were? Thought that'd be a fun little game did you,"
"Not used to talking. Thought I could clear it myself," you tried to defend yourself but you knew it was weak, and you flinched at Soap's scoff.
Ghost stepped closer, towering over you and... oh no. Your stomach was fluttering again. You averted your gaze but he wasn't having it, demanding you look at him. You obliged but had to close your legs to ease some of the pressure building.
"Wonder what Price will have to say when he finds out that you ran head first into danger without giving your Sergeant or Lieutenant any warning," Ghost growled, "I think he'll be about as happy as I am right now,"
"I made a mistake," you weren't sure why you were arguing instead of apologising, but you felt defensive, "We've all done that, no? My first mistake since joining,"
"Oh, fuck off. We've all made mistakes and we all got ripped apart for 'em," Soap snapped, "Those men sell women you fuckin' melt! You were about to be sold,"
"You speak Russain,"
"Aye, they were askin' if you were pure and if anyone was looking for you,"
You sank back a bit to sit on your heels. That was one risk the rest of the 141 didn't really face in their jobs.
"Was I at least worth a lot," you were trying to lighten the mood, get some of the anger off you.
"I wouldn't pay more than a quid for ya," Ghost remarked.
The anger seemed to leave the room with Ghost's joke. You stayed on your knees for a moment, looking up at Ghost. However, as you made eye contact he seemed to get flustered, his eyes flitting to anywhere but at you. He grabbed your shoulders and pulled you to your feet.
"Any injuries," he asked you.
"Nah, just a few bruises,"
~*~
Price had not been happy, and had in fact torn you a new one. You were told to do the 141's laundry as punishment. You tried to weasel out of it by commenting that they were only making you do it because you're a woman, but Price's angry stare could rival Ghost's on a bad day, so you did as you were told.
As you sat folding the clothes in neat piles for each teammate, the door opened.
"Hard at work," Soap asked, pulling up a chair to watch you fold.
"You'd call me a 'clipe' if I'd come back here and had you doing laundry for fucking up," you grumbled, saying 'clipe' in a poor mockery of a Scottish accent.
"I would, but you'd be right to do so," Soap shrugged.
You folded the clothes with practiced ease, enjoying the comforting smell of clean laundry. You briefly glanced up at Soap, his hair was wet, clearly fresh out of a shower. Knowing him, he felt guilty for telling you off and had come to talk about your feelings. And stare at you a bit, he did that a lot since you ditched the mask.
"Ghost's pants are fuckin' huge," you commented, folding them in half.
Soap spluttered, whatever he'd planned on saying completely gone from his mind.
"I've never really looked at them," he replied.
"He's a big guy, just a wall of muscle,"
"I mean, yeah. But we all are,"
You smirked, hearing a bit of jealously or competition in Soap's voice.
"I know, but he's so damn big," you continued, "Do you think he's big everyw-"
"I think he's our Lieutenant and we probably shouldn't," Soap interrupted.
You held your hands up, feigning innocence, though the throbbing in your underwear was persistent.
"Two close calls not too far apart," Soap said, changing the subject to what he'd come to talk about, "Do you think us finding out about you threw you off? Might be worth talking to psych about,"
"There's nothing in my head worth getting out," you reply, "I'm not distracted, I just got overconfident and made a mistake. That's it. I didn't know they were waiting in there for an ambush,"
"If you're sure. Never hurts to talk about your feelings," Soap probed.
"I know. I just don't need to,"
"Something's distracting you. You've been acting weird. On base, at the bar. Price is being extra protective over you when we're not working,"
You sighed.
"I haven't had sex in years and Price thinks I'm gonna jump one of you guys and ruin the team dynamic,"
Soap gulped audibly and shifted in his chair.
"Years, eh," he croaked, before clearing his throat, "Why doesn't Price bite the bullet for you if he's so worried,"
"Captain can't take advantage,"
"Fair,"
"Just waiting for our next leave, I swear I'm coming back limping,"
Soap's eyes flashed with jealousy again.
"I'm an adult, I can control myself. Just would be a lot easier if I was given a little private time to, y'know... sort myself out," you complained.
"Yeah," Soap's voice was rough and low, his hands covering his crotch, "Don't get much alone time here,"
"Who's fault's that," you remarked, hoping to remind Soap that he's the one who barged in while you were doing laundry alone.
The door opened, and a figure approached. The lack of audible footsteps suggested it was Ghost.
Ghost pulled up a chair beside Soap, taking in his flushed state and looking between the two of you with his head tilted in confusion. When Soap stayed silent and you continued folding laundry, Ghost spoke up.
"I just wanted to make sure you weren't holdin' a grudge,"
"Of course not," you replied, making a show of flattening out a pair of his pants, and folding them neatly before placing them on his pile. He watched your hands intently as you worked.
"Good," Ghost's voice was monotone and quiet, "What's up with Soap,"
"I haven't had sex in years and nobody will give me any alone time. Either he's upset for me or embarrassed that he asked," you answered.
Ghost's eyes widened, and you were sure he was blushing as bright as Soap under his mask. He adjusted the way he was sitting. The way the two of them were growing flustered was becoming a problem for you, and you could see why Price was concerned - you were absolutely going to do something stupid, and on your head be it.
You finally finished folding all of the laundry, and had nothing to occupy your hands with. You let out a deep breath and folded your hands in your lap.
"So am I to assume you're both gonna watch, since the alone time hints have gone over your heads," you joked.
"God, please," Soap groaned.
Ghost shot him a warning look. They knew they were pushing boundaries, treating you differently to how they would if you were a man. But in this situation you didn't care.
You stretched from where you'd been hunched over folding clothes for hours, watching the two men's eyes follow the curves of your body.
"If I asked nicely, and promised not to tell anyone," you started, pausing to take a deep breath - both of these men were your superiors, you could get a lot of shit for this.
They were both eyeing you expectantly though, Soap was practically vibrating in his seat, and Ghost's eyes were blown out already, all pupil in the holes of his mask.
"God, you both piss me off so much. But I can't stop thinking about if you both just... you know what I'm trying to say," you couldn't force the words out.
Ghost strode over to you, gripping the back of your neck. You looked up at him, feeling small and defenseless and so desperate.
"Tell us what you want, that's an order,"
"God... fuck me," you whispered.
Soap was out of his chair in a flash. He wet his lips and pressed them against yours before you could say another word. You groaned into his mouth, grasping at his damp hair.
Ghost released his grip on your neck and began removing your clothes. His enormous hands gripped your breasts, squeezing them harder than he had any right to. You gasped into Soap's mouth.
The next minute was a blur. Soap dropped to his knees, as Ghost lifted you effortlessly. He must have freed his own mouth at some point as he was nibbling your neck and shoulder, no doubt leaving marks. He'd lifted you just enough for Soap to be able to eat you out, and he did so with enthusiasm. They must have planned this to be so coordinated with one another.
You sobbed when Soap's tongue met you. It swirled in firm circles exactly where you needed it, as two long fingers slid inside you. You didn't know what to do with your hands, choosing finally to grab onto where Ghost's were holding you up by your thighs. Soap moved his fingers from your pussy to your arse, sliding inside slowly while still licking you, using your own slick as lube. You felt overstimulated already and it was delicious. It was everything you'd needed for years. Soap slipped a third finger inside as Ghost bit particularly hard on your neck, and you shattered. Your body shook as you gasped, writhing in Ghost's grip and clenching around Soap's fingers and tongue.
Once you'd calmed, Soap stood and Ghost sat you on Soap's chair. The two men undressed.
"I bagsy front, cos there's no way I'm getting this in the back without injuring her," Ghost said.
Soap scoffed, glanced down at Ghost's cock, and his expression changed. He nodded.
"Yeah, no. That's fair,"
You looked over. Soap was big, long, impressive. You were excited to get him inside you. Ghost was... impossible. Not quite as long as Soap, but thicker than anything you'd seen. The sight would have scared you if you hadn't been so desperate.
Ghost beckoned you over, and you obeyed without question.
"Lube," Ghost barked at Soap.
Soap rummaged around in his discarded trouser pockets, pulling out a tube of lube.
Ghost lifted you again, as if you weighed nothing.
"You keep breathing or we stop. Two taps and we stop," Ghost whispered to you.
You nodded. Soap lubed himself and you up before sliding inside your arse. You gasped at the slow, aching sensation of being filled. Ghost slowly rubbed light teasing circles on your clit as Soap pushed in. Soap finally bottomed out, resting his sweaty forehead on your shoulder and pressing a gentle kiss to your back. He was wheezing our desperate little breaths, like he couldn't handle the sensations he was experiencing. It was almost enough to push you to the edge again.
Ghost's fingers twitched where he was holding you, desperate for his turn, but your breathing was still too shallow for his liking and he didn't want you holding your breath while he pushed in. Once he was happy with your breathing, he lined up and began pushing inside. You and Soap both groaned at the pressure. Ghost was cursing under his breath at the heat and wetness, barely refraining from slamming inside. Once fully inside, he paused as well.
"You good," Soap whispered.
You hummed an affirmative, not trusting yourself to form words.
Ghost and Soap began moving, slowly at first, in opposite directions. The friction was delicious and with Soap teasing your nipples and chewing your neck and Ghost teasing your clit, you were hurtling towards another more intense orgasm. Their pace picked up until they were hammering into you and you knew you'd be feeling this for a few days.
You could feel Ghost hitting your cervix, little jolts of pain that should have been off putting but just turned you on more. Behind you Soap was pounding into you like an animal, you could barely catch your breath with the pace he was setting. Your eyes were squeezed shut, drool leaking from the corner of your mouth, and sad little whimpers escaping your throat with every zap of pleasure shooting through your body.
Your legs tingled and the coil in your abdomen tightened as your walls clenched around the two cocks inside you. You wrapped your arms around Ghost's neck and sobbed into his balaclava as a single tear escaped your eye. Your orgasm tore through you, leaving you shaking, clenching and contracting for longer than usual as the men kept thrusting inside you. You could tell they felt it, as the men sandwiching you moaned gruffly.
"Can we-" Ghost couldn't finish talking but you knew what he was asking, it was safe for him to finish inside, so you nodded.
Almost in unison the two men finished inside you with rumbling groans. You felt full, warm and satisfied for the first time in years. You trembled in Ghost's arms as he lifted you off their cocks and lowered you to lie on the ground. Soap lay beside you, an arm flung over your stomach as he peppered your shoulder with kisses.
"Fuckin' hell you're incredible," he whispered.
You let out a breathless laugh. You were starting to feel gross and sticky, you had to stay clenched and get to a shower fast. You voiced it to the men, who wiped you down as best they could, got you dressed and carried you to the nearest showers. You allowed yourself to be scrubbed down by them, swallowing down the embarrassment and instead allowing yourself to feel cared for.
By the time you were clean you could breathe and walk properly again, but the dull aches had started setting in where you been stretched and battered for the first time in years. To yours and Soap's surprise you were invited to sleep with Ghost for the night in his office. He had a nice double bed, not a tiny bunk, and you found yourself sandwiched between the two being cuddled within an inch of your life as you fell into an easy sleep.
~*~
Price wasn't happy to say the least. You'd assured him you'd put more thought than you'd like into sleeping with your two superior officers, but he hadn't taken that too seriously. He also hadn't taken Soap's explanation well either, apparently thinking the man to be a bit of a desperate slut and to have put no real rational thought into his actions.
However, when Ghost assured Price that it was a serious thing, that it was fully consensual, and that it may be ongoing but you would all be safe and it wouldn't affect your professionalism, Price's mood had changed to a more positive one. You and Soap got a little huffy, but at least one of you was being listened to.
Price did still dismiss the other two before you, asking you to be safe and come to him if you needed to talk. You gave him an awkward hug and thanked him, before heading out to train, doing your best to ignore the dull aches all over you reminding you of how your boys destroyed you the night before.