vixxer
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"Shit." He's stuck, well and truly trapped in place. He takes a deep, controlled breath, repressing the instinct to panic. He's not in any real danger. He's only a mile from base at most, in woods that are seldom occupied by anything but military personnel and wildlife. And Soap is with him—who will hopefully be able to help free him, but at the very least will definitely prevent any harm from coming to him.
He hears the sound of the wolf padding over, the damp leaves littering the forest floor crunching halfheartedly beneath his feet. Speak of the devil and he shall appear and all that. Soap looks at him curiously for a moment, then barks out what Simon knows to be the closest equivalent to a laugh in this form.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Help me out, would you?" He shoves at the trunk trapping him, indicating what he wants Soap to do. It doesn't budge.
His partner steps in closer, then promptly licks him across the face.
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"Lookin' for something?" MacTavish drawls, initiating a conversation for the first time that night.
"Think I found it, actually," is the reply he gets, and he has to force his expression not to change as he realizes how much it reminds him of Ghost's voice. He pushes the thought to the side. A few similarities is nothing more than coincidence. So what if he hooks up with someone that makes him think of Ghost? It's not like the man would know.
It's not often that MacTavish gets the chance to indulge in his base desires, so when he finally gets the opportunity to hit up a gay pub—a leather one no less—he can't resist going out on the pull. He doesn't intend to hook up with someone that reminds him of Ghost, but that doesn't stop him from picking up a lad that's eerily similar to his lieutenant. A coincidence is just a coincidence—except when that coincidence leads to fucking your subordinate in a pub alleyway.
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"I don't bottom," Soap said firmly. "No penetration of any kind, ever." He ran a hand through his hair, giving away his nervousness. "That's not something that's going to change, so if that's an issue for you—"
"It's not," Simon assured him. He would almost be offended at the strength of the look of relief on the other's face if not for how closely it mirrored the feeling in his own chest. The relief set in with a sensation not unlike the feeling of the first dose of hospital grade painkillers kicking in. Soap didn't want him to top. Thank fucking god. He chuckled, then let all of the tension that had been plaguing him melt away with his next exhale.
He could see the younger man lower his hackles, that defensive aggression washing away in favor of a small smile. "Seems like we're made for each other, huh," Soap mused.
The older man smiled back. "Seems so, Johnny."
"Well, now that the uncomfortable part is out of the way, how about you come pick out a strap?"
Oh Simon should've known Soap would have multiple to choose from. That was a sign he was in for a good fuck. "I would love to."
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Soap settles onto the small couch like it's a throne, his relaxed posture radiating quiet confidence, one arm thrown across the back and his legs spread wide enough it's clear he has no intention of leaving room for his alpha toy to sit next to him. He hardly has to gesture towards the floor in front of himself before Simon is dropping to his knees so fast it hurts. He crawls forward till he's directly between Johnny's knees and is rewarded with a hand carding through his hair, nails gently scraping against his scalp where the hair is buzzed short. He leans into the touch, trying his best to be subtle, and follows where the hand guides him, his cheek coming to rest on Johnny's thigh as he gazes up at him.
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The CIA calls in a favor the 141 owes, sending Ghost and Soap undercover at an arms dealer's fancy party. Not their forte, but simple enough. The catch? Their cover is as a rich man and his sugar baby, and the sugar daddy can't be an alpha—it can't be Ghost. Good thing pretending to be Soap's submissive boy toy comes all too naturally.
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Love is like a vine.
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Bakugou Mitsuki finds an abandoned child on the way home from work. Bakugou Himiko’s presence creates a ripple of change in the lives of the people around her.
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- 7,421
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- 2
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- 14
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The older they get, the more Tooru feels like she just wants… to be good enough to have her attention, or something. She wants her eyes on her, and she wants her to like what she sees. She wants to wear the nail polish Hajime picks out for her and she wants Hajime to look at her lips like she wants to kiss them.
She just wants. Something that’s just out of her grasp. Something that she doesn’t know if she’s allowed to have. Sometimes, when Hajime looks at her lips or tucks Tooru’s hair behind her ear for her or laces their fingers together in that pretty tan-red-white contrast, Tooru thinks that maybe Hajime might want it, too.
Bookmarked by vixxer
23 Jun 2020
Bookmarker's Notes
they’re girls and it’s a great portrayal of wlw experiences. need i say more? I will anyway. That part about oikawa realizing people won’t respect her any extra if she doesn’t seem girly
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Ghost, under threat of another psychological evaluation from both his CO and therapist, has been forced to partake in a penpal programme with another soldier in order to "practise empathy" and "re-establish human connection." He hates it until he doesn't.
MacTavish willingly volunteers for the SAS's new penpal programme because what the hell, it could be fun. And when his penpal ends up being adorably emotionally constipated, well, that certainly doesn't hurt.
Bookmarked by vixxer
13 Jul 2025
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“Why’re you still here?” Soap asked one day.
Ghost looked at him, “Do you not want me to be?”
Soap raised an eyebrow. “Nae, of course I wan’ ye here. But ye have war criminals to kill, don’tcha?”
Ghost rolled his eyes. He looked tense, gripping his thigh and not even looking in Soap’s direction. After a long moment, he mumbled. “I’d rather stay here with you, Johnny.”
Or: Soap is discharged after getting injured, and Ghost doesn't leave his side. They settle down in Scotland and fall into a world of art together.
Series
- Part 1 of Clay under your nails
Bookmarked by vixxer
15 Apr 2025
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Summary
loosely connected 09 ghoap fics <3 all of them can be read as standalones unless otherwise specified!!!! :D
they’re not quite canon aligned, but take a lot from it :]
(just as a quick aside, if any of u feel like making fanart pls link them in the comments as otherwise i won’t see them!! <3 <3 thank you)
being translated into chinese/mandarin by the lovely relyon and drownfall !!! !!!
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- 394,963
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- 67
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- 572
Bookmarked by vixxer
08 Apr 2025
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Ghost lets himself be pulled up slightly, his hand just as steady on Soap's thigh. "That what you need, Johnny?" he asks, licking his lips behind the balaclava. Soap’s eyes drop to his mouth, flick back up. "You wanna draw blood? Be in control?"
"Lt–" Soap starts, lips parted on a rough exhale. A plea or a warning, Ghost can't tell. He's too focused on the way Soap's pupils dilate, and the way the edge of the knife digs into the fabric at his throat.
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When Graves rears his head not ten days after Las Almas Ghost starts questioning Soap's loyalty, and with it whatever's left of his own sanity.
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- English
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- 41,011
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- 6/6
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Bookmarked by vixxer
21 Feb 2025