#killym writes fandom sh:t

[killymafterdark]

Soap hissed, sliding down the nearby wall to sit on the ground. He was not only sore, hot, and sweaty, but also, because of how his stupid brain worked, he was getting hard. What a life.

“Soap, you good?” he heard over the comm.

“Fuckin’ peachy, Lt. Jus’ bored out of my goddamn mind,” he sighed. And horny, he didn’t add.

“Anything I can help with?” Ghost asked, and Soap looked down at his tenting pants.

“Naw, not really,” he said, experimentally squeezing his bulge to see how bad he had it. The groan he involuntarily let out confirmed he had it pretty bad.

Ghost was set up in the same building, a few flats to the left. They didn’t have to cover each other, so they set up this way to cover more ground instead. But this meant being constantly on the comms, not even a breath taken without the other one knowing. It could get real awkward real fast if he wasn’t careful.

“Actually, would you mind going dark fo’ ten minutes or so? I have, ah… thing to take care of.” Real smooth, Soap. Fuckin’ inconspicuous.

He wasn’t expecting an immediate, enthusiastic answer, but the silence that followed dragged uncomfortably.

“Ghost?”

“That your boredom go-to, or are you just a slut, MacTavish?”

Soap chuckled, busted. “A wee bit of both, if I’m being honest.” With no need to be coy anymore, he risked a joke. The distance made him brave enough to push the limits to just this side of inappropriate. “So, will ye give me some alone time, or would ye like to listen?”

Ghost hummed, and Soap could tell he was smiling. He palmed his cock through his pants, feeling it twitch at the thought of Ghost choosing to listen in. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that the idea of other people getting off on watching him writhe in pleasure was doing nasty things not only to his ego but also his libido.

“Comms on all the time, Johnny. That’s them rules.”

Read the rest on AO3. For the Oxytocin is the first part of my GhostSoap PWP series A Thin Line.

[killym]

“Alright,” he said, standing up. “See ye at breakfast, Lt.” He grabbed the bag and shouldered Ghost aside, heading to the door.

“Do we have a problem, Soap?” Ghost asked, turning around.

“I dinnae, do we?”

Ghost rolled his eyes and grabbed Soap’s naked arm, the muscles flexing under his touch. “Fuckin’ look at me when you talk to me, MacTavish.” Soap spun around and pushed his hand off.

“Or what, Ghost? Are ye gonna shove me into the wall again? Yell at me some more? Are ye gonna fuckin’ fight me?!”

“You fuckin’ insubordinate piece of shit,” he spat out, his fists clenching.

“Ah, yer pullin’ rank on me now? I swear to god, sometimes I just wanna fuckin’ punch ye straight in that fuckin’ mask of yours.”

“Do it, then.”

Soap froze, his eyes widening subtly.

“Fuckin’ do it instead of just chaffing about it,” he spoke again and saw a glimmer of recognition in Soap’s eyes before they darkened, his gaze dancing over Ghost’s face, scrutinizing. Searching. “Or do you need some verbal instructions for that as well?”

Ghost raised his brow in a challenge. He smiled under his mask when Soap dropped his gym bag back on the floor.

“Oh, it’s fuckin’ on, ye bastard.”

They came here to blow off steam, and they gonna. One way or the other.

---

Wanna See What You Can Take (a sequel to For the Oxytocin)

GhostSoap x Explicit x WC 3,466

Fight Sex - Dirty Talk - Degradation Kink - Spit Kink

[killymafterdark]

The sound of the barbell hitting the rack was, honestly, disappointing to hear. He had no idea who in their right mind would work out at the ass crack of dawn, but, after all, he was also here, so he could only judge so much. He pulled his neck gaiter up and over his nose and went inside.

It was Soap.

Ghost moved quietly so as not to scare him, to stand in front of the bench. He waited for Soap to finish his reps and put the barbell back on before he spoke up, his arms crossed over his chest.

“What the fuck are you doing here, MacTavish?”

If Soap was startled, he didn’t show it. He looked up at Ghost with threaded brows. “What the fuck does it look like I’m doing here?”

He sat up, took a sip of water from the nearby bottle, and dried his neck and face with a towel before throwing it into his gym bag.

“Alright,” he said, standing up. “See ye at breakfast, Lt.” He grabbed the bag and shouldered Ghost aside, heading to the door.

“Do we have a problem, Soap?” Ghost asked, turning around.

“I dinnae, do we?”

Ghost rolled his eyes and grabbed Soap’s naked arm, the muscles flexing under his touch. “Fuckin’ look at me when you talk to me, MacTavish.” Soap spun around and pushed his hand off.

“Or what, Ghost? Are ye gonna shove me into the wall again? Yell at me some more? Are ye gonna fuckin’ fight me?!”

“You fuckin’ insubordinate piece of shit,” he spat out, his fists clenching.

“Ah, yer pullin’ rank on me now? I swear to god, sometimes I just wanna fuckin’ punch ye straight in that fuckin’ mask of yours.”

“Do it, then.”

Soap froze, his eyes widening subtly.

“Fuckin’ do it instead of just chaffing about it,” he spoke again and saw a glimmer of recognition in Soap’s eyes before they darkened, his gaze dancing over Ghost’s face, scrutinizing. Searching. “Or do you need some verbal instructions for that as well?”

Ghost raised his brow in a challenge. He smiled under his mask when Soap dropped his gym bag back on the floor.

“Oh, it’s fuckin’ on, ye bastard.”

They came here to blow off steam, and they gonna. One way or the other.

Read the rest on AO3. Wanna See What You Can Take is the second part of my GhostSoap PWP series A Thin Line. 3,5k words | #fighting as foreplay #degradation #spitting #marking #d/s dynamic

[killymafterdark]

Venom jumped on the projection’s back, knocking it over so violently that Arthur was surprised the man didn’t die instantly. Venom roared, pinning the man’s head to the ground with clawed hands. He leaned over his back, on all fours, like an animal, and then… Then he opened his mouth, and a thick, pink, impossibly long tongue slid out from behind the row of deadly teeth, slowly dripping saliva all over the projection’s face.

“I wish I could taste you,” Venom said as he dragged his tongue from the projection’s neck, over the side of his face, and up to the hairline. “I just know you’d taste so good.”

Arthur’s eye twitched in disbelief as he felt a familiar warmth pooling heavy in his loins. Un-fucking-believable.

“Well, fuck,” he said under his breath and squeezed his hand tighter on Eames’ shirt.

“Arthur?” Eames asked, his hand closing over Arthur’s own. “It’s okay. Venom won’t harm you.”

“That’s not really what I’m worried about,” he whispered, as he focused on Venom’s claws slowly digging into the projection’s shoulders for better grip as he leaned even lower, mouth opening wider, tongue still dancing over the man’s features. When Venom suddenly chomped down his teeth on its head, and his claws ripped down the projection’s back, Arthur breathed out a choked-up gasp.

“What?”

Arthur’s eyes snapped back to Eames’ face. “Nothing. Let’s go.”

He almost ran to the building’s door, trying to ignore the heat searing his cheeks.

My number one mission in life is to crossover Inception with e v e r y t h i n g. Venom was the perfect place to start. Don't be fooled by the humor, 70% of this fic is straight-up p0rn. You can read the rest at AO3: I Wanna Feel You, I Want It All

Explicit | 10,2k words | Arthur/Eames (Eddie)/Venom | #PWP #rimming #bondage #breathplay #edging #begging #DP

[killymafterdark]

Simon wasn’t planning on killing again so quickly, still riding the high of destroying the teacher who liked their students a tad too much. But then he found himself at the Manchester Piccadilly one morning, no reason, no purpose. He briefly wondered what he was doing there, but then... Simon saw him.

The man was clearly new to the city, getting off the train with a backpack, a suitcase, and a cardboard box under his arm, a look of feeling lost in an unfamiliar place weighing down his handsome features. Simon felt it then, deep in his gut, a stir of excitement that made his instincts sing. He immediately felt drawn to the man, enticed like never before with anyone else.

Simon didn’t know what the man did to deserve catching Simon’s eye that day, but he was determined to find out. His intuition was never wrong, which told him there was a good reason for them to meet like that. He had to get to him, had to study him. He had to have him.

Simon watched as the man looked something up on his phone, unapologetically taking up space in the middle of the station, not caring in the slightest that he was blocking the path, making other passengers go around him. That checks, Simon thought, gauging the guy as obnoxious. Just look at that hair.

Simon cocked his head, watching as the man crumpled his printed-out ticket and threw it in the nearby trash bin before heading towards the main exit.

He loved people’s disregard for the safety of their personal information.

Simon waited half a minute before he moved. He quickly grabbed the ticket from the top of the trash pile and left the station to follow the man. He stopped in the smoking zone by the taxi parking, where the man was waiting for his Uber. Simon lit a cigarette, lazily leaning on the wall, before unfolding the paper to see the man’s name. He traced the letters with his fingertips. John MacTavish.

“Hello, Johnny,” he said under his breath, watching MacTavish enter the car.

A ghostsoap serial killer AU I wrote for the discord's spooky exchange. Hold My Breath in Your Hands available on AO3.

Explicit | 18,6k words

#stalking #obsession #violence #revenge #voyeurism #kinks #murder

[killymafterdark]

Watching Cobb pass through the immigration gate took an immense amount of weight off Arthur’s shoulders, but it also made him realize how absolutely exhausted he was. He felt lighter as well as deflated, like the stress of the last two years was the only thing that kept him together, kept him standing straight, kept him going.

He rested his whole weight on the heels of his hands splayed over the wet faux marble counter of the airport bathroom. His forearms trembled with exhaustion when he dropped his head between his shoulders. Inhale, exhale, exhale, exhale…

When he raised his head again, the familiar, battered face of a man on the brink of falling apart looked back at him from the mirror. His hair, no longer slicked back, was framing his face with sad, wavy strands. The overhead fluorescent light accentuated his paleness, the shadows making the bags under his eyes appear twice as big. The furrow in between his brows was prominent and, at this point, seemingly permanent.

Arthur closed his eyes with an exuberant sigh and straightened his back to the sound of popping joints. He turned the faucet on, threw his tie over his shoulder, and cupped his palms under the stream. After splashing his face with a handful of water, he rubbed his eyes and mouth, then raked his still-wet fingers through his hair to comb it back. He didn’t have any tissues and the airport paper towels were the stinky kind, cheap and grey, so he dried his hands and under his chin just enough to stop the water from dripping under his collar.

Rolling his arms back, he tried to crack his neck to relax his aching muscles before finally grabbing his duffel bag from the counter and throwing it over his shoulder with a grunt.

He genuinely hoped the rest of the team had already left. Cobb lying to him hurt like a motherfucker, even though he knew perfectly well where Cobb was coming from when he decided to go behind their backs. Arthur would always love Cobb like a brother, but he definitely needed a break from the man. Just for a while, so the anger and hurt would have a chance to simmer down. Yusuf, however, he couldn’t forgive so easily.

Before he left the bathroom, Arthur checked the team’s itineraries he had saved on his phone. The only one who might still be at the airport, besides Ariadne waiting for him by the food courts, was Eames. He was flying to New York in 45 minutes, so he should be going through the customs right about now. At least, that’s what Arthur was hoping for. He really wasn’t in the mood for Eames.

He was closing up the app when the door handle creaked. Startled, he jumped away from the door, shoved his phone into his pants pocket, and rushed to the sinks again, pretending to wash his hands while he glanced at the now-ajar door.

Fuck his luck, honestly.

Eames snuck into the bathroom, eyes focused on Arthur’s back, and he could feel the anger flare up under his skin. He aggressively shook his hands in the air, splashing excess water everywhere, and without raising his eyes, he turned around and headed for the door.

“Arthur, wait.” A strong, warm hand grabbed his wrist and locked it in a tight grip. “Can we talk for a moment?”

Saudade - Chapter One - The Goodbye

The first chapter of my longest Inception fic is finally on AO3, and it only took 13 years to post it ;___;

[killymafterdark]

The wind from the helo blades smacked Soap right across the face with a gust of dirt and gasoline smell. He checked the straps of his vest one more time before jogging to the platform where Price was waiting for him to board. Ghost and Garrick took the bench on the right, so he moved towards the free space in between other soldiers and sat himself across from the 141 with a grunt. He threw his legs forward, crossing them at the ankles.

“Put those things away, Soap, jesus,” Price said as he kicked Soap’s feet, crossing the space to get to the front, sending a glare in his direction. He reluctantly drew his legs in as the team snickered around him, knees now bent and fallen open, forearms resting on his thighs, hands hanging in between his spread legs.

He closed his eyes, head falling back to rest on the wall of the helo despite the nets and metal digging into his skull. There was a five-hour long flight ahead of them, and he was determined to catch some sleep no matter the conditions.

But something was keeping him awake. A heavy, charged gaze lingered on him, burning holes in his tired body. He cracked one eye open without moving his head, and there he was, mirroring Soap’s pose and staring from behind the skull mask, eyes hot and heavy.

Soap’s mouth fell open as his body awoke with an electric shiver, the heat immediately pooling in his groin, their late-night meeting in the gym a few nights ago still fresh in his memory. Fuck, if this was his reaction just from this one look…

He briefly wondered what got Ghost so wound up, but then he remembered. He raised his hand to his throat and traced the velcro of his mic with his trembling fingertips. Ghost’s eyes darkened as he clenched his hands into fists, and a wicked smile stretched Soap’s lips at the sight.

All of a sudden, he didn’t feel tired anymore.

The first draft of the opening of Bad Things, part three of my ongoing GhostSoap PWP series A Thin Line

Check out parts one: For the Oxytocin, or two: Wanna See What You Can Take

[killymafterdark]

Arthur rose from the couch and leaned forward again. He threw one of his legs over Eames’ knees, straddling him. “Can I see him?” he whispered, leaning even closer, his mouth hovering over Eames’, his eyes darting from one iris to the other.

He watched Eames’ face shift as it clicked in his mind, his expression going from sheer confusion to something animalistic, his eyes darkening.

“Arthur…” Eames said the name with a purr, finally getting it, a delighted grin splitting his face. “Are you hot for Venom? You kinky monsterfucker.”

Arthur wanted to protest, to roll his eyes, but Eames closed the gap between them, crushing his lips. He didn’t wait before he licked the seam of Arthur’s mouth, asking to be let in. Arthur didn’t protest and deepened the kiss, bringing his hand up. Running it over Eames’ pecks with a light squeeze, he finally settled it on his jaw, the fingers caressing the nape of Eames’ neck and his thumb brushing his cheek.

Eames leaned back then, letting Arthur’s mouth chase his as he said, his voice even deeper, rougher. “Good thing we like you too.”

Arthur gasped when Eames’ eyes whitened, black swirls dancing at the edges of his now wholly black irises. “Fuck, Eames.”

“I sincerely hope that’s the plan, love,” he said as he tugged Arthur’s shirt from his pants and began unbuttoning it slowly. Arthur was captivated, still looking into his eyes, outlining his features with the lightest touches of his fingertips like his face was a sacred thing, and Arthur feared he wasn’t worthy even to touch. He brushed his lashes with his thumbs and kissed the bridge of his nose. Eames’ eyes fluttered close with a quiet, affectionate exhale.

My number one mission in life is to crossover Inception with e v e r y t h i n g. Venom was the perfect place to start. Don't be fooled by the humor, 70% of this fic is straight-up p0rn. You can read the rest at AO3: I Wanna Feel You, I Want It All

Explicit | 10,2k words | Arthur/Eames (Eddie)/Venom | #PWP #rimming #bondage #breathplay #edging #begging #DP