Chapter Text
You were already way too drunk when you got out of the bar. It was an annoyingly loud party, too many people you never even knew – you thought that it would be nice since it’s a nice bar and not some weird tech music club, but it didn’t really matter in the end. You were still wasted, head spinning around and headache already forming with bile in your throat every time you opened your eyes. Your phone is dead, your brain is barely working, and the only thing you wish to do right now is to curl down in a small ball and cry.
You barely managed to call for an Uber before your phone blinked one last time and turned off – and judging by the fact that the somewhat kinda, big-ish car was the only one in the dim alleyway, you assumed it was your ride. Hopefully, you’ll get home as soon as possible, get a shower, clear your stomach from alcohol slowly brewing into nausea, and fall asleep.
You’re far too drunk to notice that the driver didn’t even ask for your name when you got inside.
— H…hey there. You’re my driver, yea?
You force the words out of your mouth as you slowly duck your head into the car and settle on the backseat before the guy even says anything. He is pretty, somewhat – a weird fucking haircut for sure, but has a roguish charm of a boy you might meet at the nearest gas station shop. You’re way too buzzed to think of him in any romantic way, but he is nice to look at, and you’re staring to the point of being inappropriate.
He smiles, and you feel your cheeks heating up – probably just alcohol working its way up your system. But he looks nice and probably would feel nice in bed, too – he clearly forgot about shaving for a few days, and you almost think about the way it would feel on your face. Or between your legs. Or just right on your…
— Aye, it’s me.
You can see his cheeks getting flushed as he stares back at you. The situation becomes slightly more weird with each passing moment, but he taps on his phone, probably searching for a map. You turn your head to look at the blurry image – not like you have any knowledge of the area, transferring here for your big girl job and trying to make your way in the city that couldn’t care less about you or your feelings.
You press your cheek against the car seat, leaning over to help him.
— It’s on…yeah, um, Maple 37-12. I think I might have typed the address incorrectly on the app.
— Thank ye, lassie.
He quickly turns on the map to head over to your house, and you smile, happy about your management skills even as you’re still drunk as hell. You allow your head to fall on the backseat headrest again, closing your eyes just for a second. It’s a long ride home, and you already regret every decision that made you go to this fucking party.
The driver is chatty.
Really fucking chatty.
— So, where do you work? Ye shouldn’t be up in that hour.
You grumble something in the answer, not wanting to speak too much. Your brain isn’t built for this kind of pressure right now.
— Yer boyfriend goin’ to pick ye up?
You slightly wince at the words, another reminder of how utterly alone you were. Of course, if you had a boyfriend or even some close, responsible friends, you would ask them to help you with a ride home – you never trusted public transport at this hour, and uber is often varies between a last resort and a stranger danger on wheels.
— Don’t have any.
Your brain is far too drunk to even comprehend why you didn’t just lie that a mysterious boyfriend will meet you. Somehow, the expression of the driver – he called himself Johnny with such a beautiful boyish smile that it made your toes curl – made you feel dizzy and light in the head. God, you don’t want to act like a high school sweetheart, but all of those drinks made you feel lonely.
— No way. A wee bonnie like ye shouldnae be alone.
You lick your lips, trying not to sound too miserable. You’re failing.
— I’m focusing on my career.
He actually laughs at that, and you feel even more embarrassed.
— Career? How does that work out for ye?
You just grumble at the answer, not wanting to bury yourself even deeper. Truth be told, it’s not what you expected when moving to a new city – you don’t know anyone, don’t have any friends here, your life has started from a blank point, and there is really nothing for you to do besides trying to connect with some uptight work buddies in a grimy bar.
Driver says something else – just general questions, something about the weather. Silly jokes that make you snort and reconsider your sense of humor – he is really nice for a cab driver, and you kinda want to just listen to him talk over and over again. You kinda just want to close your eyes and sleep, but you suddenly realize that you need to charge your phone in order to check the payment – you don’t think you have enough cash in your purse, and you don’t want to make the driver’s life even more miserable. He must be low on money to work at this hour, and you kinda feel bad enough to leave him a big tip after all of this, especially if you would end up throwing up all over his nice, big car. It's suited for some brutal man from war movies, not an Uber driver.
— Hey, sorry. Can I charge my phone for a bit?
He smiles even more, getting you the required cable – you plug your phone finally, for the first time in the past few minutes, seeing your home screen again. God, this is late hours – you never got home at this time before.
The car takes an unexpected turn, and you swing your head to look at the window – you don’t recognize the area. Of course, the road was dark, and you lived far away, but even with your blurry mind and hazy memories of the street you moved to, you knew this wasn’t right. The driver is nice and all, but you feel like he made a mistake by relying only on Google Maps. You hope he made a genuine mistake, at least.
— Um, sir?
— Aye, lassie?
He looks so innocent it immediately drops you off guard. You lean closer to him, a phone still in your hand – you were trying to refresh the Uber app quite a few times already, but it somehow never showed you the price you were supposed to pay for the trip – and try to sound as chill as possible. No use in making a scene, you both are tired, and he probably wants to get done with you as soon as possible.
— I think you took a wrong turn. My street should be on the right side.
— Didnae think I did.
— What do you mean? My home isn’t…
The app blinks, and you look at it, trying to concentrate on the obscenely bright screen, punishing your eyes for simply having those. You lick your lips, blood running cold.
You stare at the “Your driver will be here in 5 minutes”. With a description of a car that couldn’t be more different than the car you were in.
With the driver, whose name wasn’t even remotely “Johnny”.
***
Soap wasn’t intending to bring a girl home. What he intends is to find a nice chip place near the bar he and Simon used to go to together and then bring something home to eat because, of course, Lt came home before him, and his cooking skills are almost as bad as his jokes. Simon is a mad dog that will probably eat anything provided and isn’t against chewing on his shoes in case of an emergency, but he doesn’t want him to do this off-deployment.
Johnny literally just wanted to buy some grub, get it home warm, and take off drinking beer and watching some mindless shit on the TV. Preferably with Simon by his side because their relationship cannot be defined by any labels, and he as a nice fucking ass.
Well, turns out random drunk girls who slammed into his car just when he got the takeout bag securely on the front seat have nice asses too. And Soap can’t think of the last time he had his dick smothered by a woman’s lips and not his fist or, somehow, Simon’s hand.
You’re pretty, drunk, and kinda dumb – just like he loves them. Silly girl, really, what did you expect when your phone is dead and you have no other means of contacting safety. He saw you approaching the car, not even looking at his plate – you probably wouldn’t remember when he would dump you in the morning. Not that he would, of course, pretty dumb girls like you should be protected, and his job is, well, protection itself – he can drag you to his and Ghost’s apartment like a trophy in his teeth.
He licks his lips, enjoying the expression of fear slowly creeping on your face. You’re so drowsy, so adorable, he can’t help but smile widely when you’re panicking. You try to open the door, but, of course, it’s child-locked. Fitting for someone who behaves like one.
The last time he tried to convince a girl to have a threesome with him and Simon, she preferred to just watch them awkwardly jerk each other off. The last time he tried to convince a guy for a threesome with him and Simon, Johnny spent the whole night in the corner, blue-balled and lonely, as the twink preferred to suck Lt until he’d cum like two times in a row.
Johnny knows that if he wants a chance for something other than a sloppy seconds, he will have to accept a quick car fuck, possible kidnapping, and forging marriage documents for a pretty girl he just locked in his car because why the hell not, why can’t a handsome Scotsman just kidnap a drunk girl who mistook him for an Uber driver.
He stops the car in a more or less secluded area – poor bird, you’re still trying to bump your way out of the door with your shoulder, only risking dislocating it. The car was a fucking tank in disguise, the only thing that could survive Ghost’s driving skills – there is no way you would be able to get it to open without the owner wanting you to. Soap licks his lips, turning to you. Hell bells, you look divine.
Tears in your eyes, panicked expression, hands curling into fists as you’re trying to get out of your personal nightmare, no matter how drunk you are. Poor baby, he really feels bad for you – you’re so sweet, so trusting, there is no way he was the first guy to ever try to harm you like this. Sergeant might like to think of himself as being more or less in touch with normal people, but when he sees a pretty girl in trouble, he wants nothing more but to become her trouble.
He opens the car just for a second from the driver’s seat – he needs to get to you, after all, just looking at you, trapped in the backseat, won’t be enough for the throbbing erection he has in his pants. You try to fight him as he heavily lingers on you, almost crushing you under his weight. Car isn’t nearly big enough for someone like him to comfortably sit in normal position on top of you, so Johnny uses one hand to drag you back, deeper into the seat, and the other hand – to unbuckle his belt, proving to be fucking beautiful with his fingers.
You look so pretty, he can’t help but snap a few pictures for the group chat – dumb idea at first, as he thought, but now he can’t wait for the Captain to see what a pretty catch he has on his arms. The last mission was pretty rough, and they all deserve a pretty thing to cover themselves in fear and tremble under them after they fuck her, one after one. Might even bring you to Captain’s house, show you what a good girl you can be for your daddy if given a chance.
Soap smirks as he drags his hard cock out of his pants. Your eyes are wide in shock – he might not be the biggest of the group, Lt has the crown rightfully and deservingly, but it doesn’t mean that the Scot is small. Thicker than average, leaking pre-cum already – has been since you first got into the car, all cute and disoriented. He had to waste quite a few minutes driving you as far from civilization as possible without alarming your pretty, dazed head about anything – now he can reap his prize. A part of it, anyway.
You cry and squirm, trying to fight him off when he pushes his hand into your hair and tugs angrily – you’re simply too fucking weak to be a reasonable challenge, so Johnny only laughs when he can put your fight with a single press on your windpipe. You cough, struggling again – soon enough, you learn to just stop and allow him to lead. Good girl, can be trained so well – you’d make a good soldier if you weren’t so pretty and so vulnerable.
— Don’t make me break yer nose, lassie. Open up, aye?
He smiles, too warm for the situation – you don’t understand what you did to deserve this, his hand presses your throat in a tight embrace, and you can’t do anything but squirm and try somehow to use your legs to fight – but oh, you’re far too drunk to do this. You whimper, and your head spins and aches with each hiccup, leaving your lips. Such a pathetic sight to see, you could almost feel bile in your throat as he pressed his cock closer to your lips, smearing bitter liquid all over your closed mouth.
— Pl…please, don’t do this, don’t… what do you want? Money? I will give you money, or my phone, or…
He groans, the waiting time for this pretty girl is far too long already. He doesn’t want to hurt you, you’re too soft for this – a thought of slapping your face lingers in his mind, but ruining your pretty cheeks won’t be efficient in this case. Johnny tugs on your hair, hoping it will be enough to set you straight – he doesn’t want you to pass out from pain, after all. Already too merciful with just using your throat and now that tight ass hiding underneath your dress.
Your words are slurred, hazed, your tongue can’t move quite right enough – still too drunk, and lack of fresh air only makes you go dumber by each second. Soap only lets go of you when he is sure you’re far too gone to try and bite him – still, he pushes his two hands in your mouth, opening you wide as you gag and cough.
— Don’t worry yer pretty head ‘bout it. Just take me, and then we’ll go home.
He will ride you home, make you ride him, and make you some really nice breakfast later. He will carefully wipe away the damp makeup from your face – poor girl, you’re crying too much and ruined all of your hard work on this skin – and send some pretty pictures to the group. But, hey, he can snap a couple right now.
With one hand still in your mouth, he awkwardly moves his hips so his cock can point right against your lips – and presses down, making you gag more and more as he slowly but surely pushes his cock inside of your tight, warm mouth. God, this is the heavens – he can’t remember the last time he had such an amazing blowjob from such a cutie. Gaz would fucking love you.
You’re so pretty from this angle, coughing on his cock, tears streaming down your cheeks – Johnny tells you to smile for the camera and snaps a couple of pictures. Group chat was an amazing idea, after all – he can’t wait to share some more cute videos once you’ve settled it. The feeling of your warm mouth on his cock is absolutely divine – you’re tight, probably inexperienced, and he relishes in the fact he might be the biggest cock you ever took in your pretty lips.
You try your hardest to pull away, but he keeps you close, a hand tugs on your hair again, making you cry harder. Soap is so sorry, bonnie, he will make it up to you later – will eat your pretty cunt sloppily, maybe mess with your ass a bit, making sure you’re all wet and open for the members of his team and their members. He snorts at the thought. smiling as you’re still fighting the urge to puke.
— Like this, aye? Don’t fuckin’ try to bite me, I don’t want to prick yer teeth off.
Threat lingers in your panicked mind as he drags his hips back before slamming in your mouth again, his balls slapping your chin with an obscene sound. The drool is leaking down your lips, creating a mess on the car seat – it’s not a problem, really, he will clean it later. Maybe would have to change the fabric of the seating for something less damp if he plans to fuck you in the car more. And oh, aren’t they all planning to do this?
His phone rings when he was least expecting it – skull emoji on the display. No name, no photo – of course. He must have predicted that Lt would like some of the fun beforehand. Well, Soap isn’t the one to hoard every trophy to himself – even if he really wants to be the first with a pretty girl.
He loves his team – and they will love you as much.
He picks up with a smug grin on his face, staring at the screen. His moans become louder, grunts that make your cheeks burn as you just know he is faking it for more theatrics – pressing his phone between his cheek and a shoulder, leaving his friend to listen to his pleasure. Licking his lips as Ghost groans, a familiar sound of an unbuckled belt clanging somewhere in the background. You sob, trying to trash out of his hold again – he only presses you deeper, your nose flattening against his pubic bone.
— Couldn’t fuckin’ wait, Jonny?
Simon sounds tired, angry, jealous even – his sergeant smiles wider, slowly removing the phone from under his cheek and going into video call instead – showing your pretty face, all smothered with pre-cum, ruined makeup, and tears. You look so pretty, so perfect, he moves his hips more to remind you to suck on his cock and not just stare at him like a pretty kitten. He loves you like this, of course, but his dick twitches without proper movement, and Johnny was never the one for patience. Only for bombs, maybe.
Well, you’re a freaking bombshell, aren’t ye.
— Sorry, Lt. Dumb thing thought I was her ride.
The other man snorts. They both laugh – a cruel sound, taunting your ears. You whine and cry, feeling the cock in your mouth pulsating. You try to turn away from the camera, but it’s impossible with a hand still pressing down on your head – you can only close your eyes, poor attempt at saving your dignity. God, you feel absolutely trashed. Soap adores that defeated look in your eyes.
— And you aren’t?
— Still a better driver than you, sir. But no, not this time. Can give her a ride, though.
You hate their laughing, hate the way he is gently caressing your head like you’re a threatened animal and not a living, breathing being. He is being soft with you, like he isn’t forcing his way into your mouth – like he isn’t showing your fucked face to his friend. You hate the way your pussy burns, wet from humiliation, and the soft retirement you’re receiving. Bastard isn’t even thinking of your pleasure, and maybe that’s good. You don’t want to like it.
— Goin’ bring her home?
— Aye. Would look bloody adorable on our bed.
They both snort while your blood runs cold. You hoped, you prayed he would let you go after this – traumatized, but mostly alive and well. You have a job, you have a life, and you can’t be fucking “taken home” to some bastard’s bed while he is using you like a sex toy. You try to squeeze your teeth on his dick, maybe do at least something to make him let you go – but Soap strikes your cheek with unknown anger, making you squirm in his grasp. You sob.
— Don’t break her yet, Johnny.
— Sorry. Dumb thing tried to bite me.
— Doesn’t know any better. Gaz had a special muzzle for dumb girls.
— Too tight for my dick.
— Bloody hell, Mactavish. Don’t get too cocky.
— Never intended to, sir.
He pushes his dick deeper into your mouth. Your cheek burns from the slap, you can almost feel the bruise forming – and the bastard just tugs on your hair, filling your throat with sticky, disgusting cum. You drink it all, no use in trying to choke yourself on his seed when you’re already set in his hold.
— How is her mouth?
— Fuckin’ heaven, Lt.
— I noticed. You finished fast, even for you, Johnny.
— I’ll try better next time. Maybe get our dollie off after.
— Selfish, Mactavish.
— We all deserve to be selfish.
Soap has the fucking audacity to wipe your mouth after you finish drinking it all, pushing the remaining cum and drool back on your tongue. He gently patted on your head, then made a small apology for being too rough. Was never his intention.
— Sorry, bonnie. Don’t try to fight again, aye?
You’re too tired to answer, and he just cradles your head against his chest. You whimper and cry, pleading senselessly for him to leave you – he only snaps even more photos of your tear-stained face. God, he can’t wait to bring you home. You’ll look heavenly as a fucktoy for the whole team.
— L..let me…
— Naw, lassie. Shut up and let me take you where you belong. You’ll love it, promise.
He kisses your forehead before moving to the front seat again.
You clutch to the seat in silence, bitter taste of his cum still lingering on your tongue.