Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley/John “Soap” MacTavish
Rating: Explicit
Tags: 09 Ghoap, Ghost lives, trans Simon “Ghost” Riley*, life affirming sex, semi-public sex, smutty drabble, plotless, just for kicks, written fast and put away wet
Something I wrote while possessed by a horny demon over on discord to my beloved @echo-arctrooper, cleaned up and posted here for shits and giggles. Hope you like it 💛♥️💛
*words to describe Ghost’s junk: hole, tender spot, inside/s
They got the warning just in time ‘Don’t trust Shepherd’ - he and Roach were out of there like a shot. Picked their way back to the remnants of TF141, found his captain the love of his afterlife alive but swearing up a storm.
Dragged the bigger man by the bitch strap off into a corner and slammed their faces together hard enough to crack a tooth.
“You’re alive.” Soap whines between kisses.
“Fuck me!” Ghost demands, clawing at his scorched equipment.
Soap hauls Ghost up by the hips, feels a beautiful weight settle around his own, and resolves to maul his boy until the last of the fear is gone.
“You’re alive.” Soap pulls Ghost’s trousers down, struggles because there’s no way he’s letting the man go to do it.
“You’re alive.” Soap wrestles his cock out his jeans, pumps himself once, rips at Ghost’s underwear.
“You’re alive.” Soap shoves himself deep inside Ghost’s body, feels his warmth clench hard around him, works his hips so he’s fucking hard and deep.
“Alive.” Ghost gasps, whines high in Soap’s ear, “I’m alive. You’re alive.”
Neither of them are interested in taking their time, it’s a rush to cum, Soap works a hand between their bodies and rubs at Ghost’s tender spot until he cries out and clenches hard enough to bully Soap’s cum right out his balls and into Ghost’s hole.
“We’re alive.” John pants, kisses Simon’s neck, breathes the comforting smell of gunpowder and sweat on his lovers hot skin.
They would need to get back out there, to come up with some kind of plan, go rain down vengeance and righteous fury until it was over. For now, John groaned into a sweat and breath slickened neck, worked to keep his flagging cock tucked up inside to feel the last jolts of Simon’s orgasm, and finally breathed deeply once again.
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Ghost being raised on ‘least said, soonest mended’ (translation: stop crying before I give you something to really cry about) and never breathes a word about how he’s feeling to anyone.
And Soap being told his whole childhood to ‘let it all out, my lad. It’s ok, feelings are tricky things’ and trying his hardest to get that through to Simon.
It takes Mama MacTavish, and the infinite pool of patience cultivated from raising her wildfire of a son, to break down those walls. Cuppa tea and a kind word every Sunday and suddenly Simon is telling Johnny when something has upset him and what he would like done differently.
“I don’t like the new washing powder, Johnny. It smells… funny.” Simon mumbles, eyes to the floor and shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.
It’s the smallest thing. Nothing in the grand scheme of getting Ghost to open up and say how he feels, but Soap is grinning like a loon and trying not to punch the air in victory. This is the first time he’s given an opinion on anything other than tactics, bad jokes, or weapons and equipment. It’s a great first step.
“Alright, Si. I’ll get the old stuff again. Thank you for telling me.” Thanks, Ma.
anthony bridgerton said “i am not a man of poetry” and then turned around and delivered “you are the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires. night and day i dream of you” all men do is lie
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