nira🔪
@prettyunhinged
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may thy knife chip and shatter | 20+ • 💀🧼 • 🚒🏳️🌈 • writer • mdni
Joined January 2018
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soap rolling out of bed, exhausted after a long few days out on a mission, and grabbing the nearest hoodie to pull on to go and get breakfast.
the hoodie is big on him but he doesn’t really think much about it, shuffling down the hall in his sweats and yawning widely. 1/28
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ghost railing soap so good he passes out afterwards.
ghost cleans him up, making sure he's alright, indulging himself and running his fingers over the marks he's left, pretty bruises already blooming on soap's neck, chest, and hips, before he moves over to the window 1/13
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ghost is slowly working soap open on two fingers, watching his rim flutter and glisten as he pumps his slick digits inside.
it’s enough to keep soap moaning almost constantly beneath him, but he’s deliberately not quite hitting the spot that would have him seeing stars.
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🔞
thinking about how as much as ghost and soap enjoy every rushed, frantic moment they manage to find to fall together in a tangled mess of limbs, the times when they can take it slower are the times they enjoy the most. 1/29
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cockwarming but they’re on a mission, both of them on overwatch.
ghost has his sniper ready, set up with a clear view of the compound, ready to get the target in his scope.
between his spread legs is soap, kneeling, flushed and moaning softly, with ghost’s cock in his mouth.
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thinking about ghost who, to soap’s surprise, is very physical with him outside of sex.
just touches him as much as he can—tiny, gentle, skims of his fingers over whatever part of soap happens to be nearby.
palm on his lower back, a squeeze at his hip, a grasp of his nape. 1/17
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no fucking wonder everyone was staring holes into his head all morning.
embroidered over the back in large, white, bold and glaringly obvious lettering, is LIEUTENANT RILEY.
28/28
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ghost loves the quiet mornings.
they took some time to adjust to, his body often still waking itself up on high alert, but it takes him less time now to switch that instant rush of adrenaline off.
in this bed—in their bed—he allows himself to slowly blink awake,
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ghostsoap kissing until their lips are swollen and bruised, ghost cupping soap’s flushed cheeks and coaxing soft, muted moans from soap’s mouth, teasing his lower lip with a light nip and a flicker of tongue, just to hear those pretty noises again and again
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holed up in a base for a few weeks, ghost and soap are put in a room together
ghost wakes up every morning at the same time, but he’s surprised to find soap is often already up and about
he’s even more surprised when he starts to wake up to a hot cup of tea by his bed every day
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ghost always remains standing during briefings, leaning against the wall in the darkest corner of the room as price gives out the details to everyone not already in the know.
sometimes, especially in one of his plain black balaclavas, he completely melts into the shadows. 1/23
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ghost only stays quiet about his relationship with soap because he thinks that’s what soap wants.
what he doesn’t know is that soap is only staying quiet because he doesn’t want to push ghost too much when they haven’t been officially together for very long. 1/22
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soap just laughs when a group of hostiles ambush him and take him hostage because they have no fucking idea what they’ve just gotten themselves into.
ghost is kicking down the door a few hours later looking like pure nightmare fuel, covered in blood that isn’t is. 1/7
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soap rising up onto his toes to kiss ghost goodbye except once they start kissing it’s always so hard to stop, ghost’s arms wrapping tight around his waist to hold him up as they exchange endless, lingering, soft kisses right up until the moment ghost really does have to leave
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soap teasing ghost, calling him the most sickly pet names he can come up with (sweetpea and honeypie are among his personal faves) and he thinks it’s going hilariously well until ghost has enough one day and finally rasps a simple “baby” at him—and soap walks straight into a wall
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still obsessed with soap not being small whatsoever and yet ghost is so huge by comparison it makes soap dizzy
seeing ghost’s large hands spread over his lower belly making his waist look proportionally tiny, his cock disappearing entirely into ghost’s fist… yeah, soap is gone
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that moment™️ they reunite after one of them has been on a solo mission—
the first time soap goes out alone, ghost is a quiet ball of stress.
he barely leaves his room, alternating between sitting bolt upright at his desk or pacing back and forth from his bed to the door. 1/34
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yeah quietly possessive ghost is such a concept.
simple gestures like a hand on the small of soap’s back when he lets him through a door first, always saving soap the seat beside him, throwing an arm over the back of his chair, fingers playing with the soft hairs at his nape.
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gaz teases soap about the whole ‘peeling an orange’ thing, so the next time they’re in the rec room, soap pulls an orange out of his pocket and throws it a ghost—who catches it without even blinking.
“peel it for me?”
ghost stares at him for a long moment.
“please?”
1/9
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soap during target practice 😶
When I said I’d bust this bussy wide open I was not lying.
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ghost struggles with intimacy, particularly skin-to-skin touch, and soap doesn’t push for anything—but they’re both eager to take thing a little further.
soap suggests they watch each other get themselves off so they can both find pleasure in a way they’re comfortable with. 1/6
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i can’t get comfortable, domestic ghost and soap out of my head
the brush of a hand over the small of a back when they move past each other in the kitchen, a soft kiss on the cheek when one of them puts two steaming mugs down on the coffee table and joins the other on the couch
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ghost and soap on a stealth mission and ghost, running hot with adrenaline, growls out a rather intense “good boy, johnny” through the comms after soap takes down two hostiles with quiet, violent efficiency 🫠
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blind date au i will probably never write where johnny is instantly attracted to but slightly intimidated by the huge, inked up, handsome man he's been set up with, thinking he must be a tattooist or a personal trainer—but it turns out simon owns the cute bakery just up the road
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just can’t stop thinking about soap settling down on ghost’s lap on the couch, getting all comfy over his thighs because they’re his favourite seat, and burying his hands in ghost’s hair to drag him into an indulgent make out session on a lazy saturday afternoon
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ghost wakes with a silent scream caught in his throat, his heart beating so hard it feels like it’s trying to tear itself free from behind his rib cage.
he’s frozen for a few agonising moments as his body catches up with his very awake mind, blood roaring in his ears. 1/22
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really need ghost and soap so desperate they don’t give a fuck that they’re not the only ones in the room, ghost has soap in his lap, hands guiding soap’s hips and gripping his ass, rutting mindlessly against each other through their clothes, panting into each other’s necks +
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all mine, he thinks. all of this, all of him.
he kisses soap, hot and heady, gently guiding him back towards the bed.
"all mine," he says aloud, rough and reverent.
"yeah, fuck," soap pulls him down, licking into his mouth, arching into his touch, "all yours." 13/13
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simon and johnny have been married for a while, finally retired and living a quiet, comfortable life as the years of pushing their bodies to their limits slowly catch up with them.
johnny is watching simon cook, the light over the stove catching the silver streaks in his hair.
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monster hybrid ghost who’s started piling up the bodies of all the hostiles he’s pulled apart after missions to present to his handler soap, chest puffed out as he nudges his handler towards his courting gifts, and a bewildered, unaware soap who pats his head and thanks him
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soap convincing ghost to go abroad with him when they're next on leave by agreeing to let ghost pick the destination and hotel
which is how soap finds himself, days later, getting his back thoroughly blown out over the warm balcony railing of a luxury penthouse suite in spain
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thinking about soap rolling on top of ghost in the morning to press sleepy kisses to his chest and throat and ghost tangling their bare legs together and threading his fingers through soap’s overgrown mohawk to stroke his hair and they just lay together, warm and soft and content
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spine waist ass spine waist ass spine wAIST ASS
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still going crazy over soap not being used to being manhandled in bed bc it’s hard to find a partner stronger than him, and then he meets ghost who throws him about like he weighs nothing and the first time it happens soap comes so quickly and so intensely he nearly blacks out
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he gets a couple of stares when he’s grabbing food, which he puts down to the fresh stitches over his left eyebrow.
he sits at an empty table, too tired to want to talk to anyone just yet, and feels even more eyes on him whilst he shovels food into his mouth. 2/28
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“oh,” soap says. “well, you weren’t wrong.”
“never am.”
“jesus,” soap huffs a laugh, “anyone ever told you you’ve got an ego problem?”
“hm. did you hear about that cannibal lion with the huge ego?”
soap blinks. “what?”
“yeah. had to swallow his pride.” 13/28
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curious, and not quite able to make it out whilst he’s wearing it, he quickly pulls it over his head.
when he holds it out in front of him, he almost turns around to bang his head against the wall, cheeks flaming bright red. 27/28
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“alright.” he gets up, taking both their empty mugs. “oh, and nice hoodie, by the way.”
soap glances down at it. “shit. it’s one of yours?”
“fucking hell, johnny,” ghost sounds both amused and exasperated. “no shit it’s mine.” 23/28
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soap riding ghost, thighs spread over ghost’s huge lap, head thrown back as he grinds and bounces, ghost working teeth and tongue over his pert nipples, wrapping long fingers around soap’s neck and squeezing tight until soap shudders and chokes and comes untouched between them
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i love it when ghost is a shameless demeaning cocky prick sometimes
like soap is explaining something complicated about a mission and ghost is so not listening, he’s just staring at how soap is leaning over the table to point out shit on the blueprints laid out there— 1/3
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fr their size difference is always on my mind, particularly how small soap’s face would look cupped between ghost’s large palms and how nicely his slighter frame would fit tucked against ghost’s chest… and how tiny his waist would look with ghost’s big hands around his hips
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“sorry,” soap rubs at the back off his neck, “i just grabbed the nearest thing this morning.”
“don’t be,” ghost says, surprisingly serious. “you can keep it.”
soap thanks him, watching him leave, slightly confused by the whole exchange. 24/28
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two glasses of wine in and soft hours are open
soap returning from a mission and immediately seeking ghost out
he doesn’t care that he finds ghost in the middle of a briefing, he drops his exhausted body into ghost’s lap and buries his face in his neck and just breathes
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it’s a little strange, but he supposes word will have gotten out by now of how the mission went and he has no doubt everyone has started talking about it.
it’s not every day a very fragile hostage situation ends with zero civilian casualties, after all. 3/28
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he makes eye contact with a group of marines one table over and they look away, a few whispering back and forth.
very subtle.
soap rolls his eyes, wondering if he should tell price he needs to make them run extra laps in training later. 4/28
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soap enjoys being marked up… but i think ghost likes showing off the marks soap leaves on him even more, finding excuses to take off his shirt so everyone can see the mess of scratches all over his shoulders and back and the mouth-shaped bruises littering his neck and chest.
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he squeezes soap’s nape, gloved fingers warm on his bare skin.
“you want coffee?”
soap glances up at him, ghost’s palm almost cupping the back of his neck now. “er, yeah. if you don’t mind, sir.”
ghost nods in affirmation, hand lingering for a moment before he moves away. 7/28
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but he does want caffeine.
just as he shifts to get up, a large hand clamps down on his shoulder.
“sergeant,” ghost greets from behind one of his plain balaclavas.
the tension bleeds out of soap’s shoulders almost instantly.
“mornin’, Lt.”
ghost surprises him then. 6/28
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“simon,” he whispers, leaning into his side. “that’s not—”
“i know. but you should rest, you’ll feel better for it and so will i.”
“sappy bastard.”
“just for today. i’ll have you running laps and writing reports tomorrow, sergeant, don’t you worry about that.” 21/28
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and cracks it open, lighting up a cigarette.
he leans against the wall, turning his head to breathe smoke out into the cold air, gaze never leaving soap's sprawled body, watching the rise and fall of his chest, admiring the dip of his spine and lovely curve of his ass. 2/13
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ghost has the decency to look a little embarrassed, though he doesn’t drop his hand from soap’s face. “i might have asked to see the medic’s report.”
“of-fucking-course you did.”
“it looked bad,” he says quietly. “i wanted to make sure you were resting if you needed to.” 17/28
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i think ghost is absolutely terrified of becoming like his father, always afraid that the violence and aggression of his line of work could stray into his personal life, so yes, he can be cold and abrasive when someone tries to get close because that’s the safe, easy option. 1/7
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“fuck off,” soap mumbles, taking the coffee.
“i didn’t know that was Scottish for ‘thank you’.”
“aye, sir. wait until you find out what—”
he stops short, coffee half way to his mouth, as ghost sits down right beside him, leaving barely a centimetre of space between them. 10/28
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makes his shoulders look smaller.
on closer inspection, he finds there’s a small crest embroidered just over the chest.
it looks like one of the old army ones from a training camp or something.
he twists in the mirror and sees there’s something on the back too. 26/28
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“you were tense as shit when i got here. if you keep frowning like that, you’ll give yourself a headache. you barely cleared the concussion check—”
“hey,” soap interrupts, “how the fuck do you know that?” 16/28
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with an empty plate and a fuller stomach, he debates if he can be bothered to grab a coffee—partially because he’s tired and partially because he’s bored of the stares.
it’s not normally this bad when they get back, maybe a few awed glances from some of the newer recruits. 5/28
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i barely ever write morning sex but ghostsoap really have me constantly wanting to write the softest, slowest, sweetest shit what is happening to me
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then he reaches out and cups the side of soap’s face.
his eyes narrow, gloved thumb brushing gently over the sensitive skin below the stitches on soap’s brow. “is it bothering you?”
soap blinks, taken aback by the openly tender touch. “oh, er. no, no, it’s fine.” 15/28
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lately ive been thinking about vampire ghost who’s lived for almost one thousand years and hates his monthly feeding, hates that he can’t just get by with chilled blood bags to keep him going…
…until soap gets shot in the head.
1/9
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although he’ll admit it feels different when it’s ghost, soap still isn’t exactly keen on being called johnny…
…until he finally hears it rasped repeatedly into his mouth like a reverent prayer between the most ardent, hungry, and sweetest kisses he’s ever received
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soap resists watching him go but he can see the marines staring again in his periphery.
it’s getting old real fast.
he sits in silence, irritation building in his gut and pain starting to throb around the wound above his eyebrow from the scowl he can’t quite suppress. 8/28
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the back of soap’s neck is burning, his heart thumping. “i’m fine, Lt, i swear.”
“alright,” ghost’s thumb grazes over his brow bone before he finally pulls back, “i trust you.”
if there had been eyes on soap before, that had nothing on the stares they were getting now. 18/28
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“yeah. at least the casualty report will be quick. let me know if you need a hand with it, yeah?”
ghost shakes his head. “don’t worry about that. i’ve made sure you won’t be bothered today, so just take it easy.”
warm honey, sweet and thick, settles in soap’s rib cage. 20/28
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eventually he drags himself in ghost’s footsteps and he ignores all the stares on his way out.
when he gets back to his room, he heads into his small bathroom to relieve himself.
he glances at the mirror whilst he washes his hands and finds he likes the way the hoodie 25/28
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ghost calling soap “baby” in that smug, demeaning tone whilst he fists his hair and forces his body into a deep, aching arch, and fucks him, brutal and rough, until soap is a sobbing mess and begging ghost to let him come—
and his baby takes it so well, ghost might just let him.
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soap laughs, their shoulders jostling. “fine, fine. i see how it is.”
ghost’s eyes are smiling when he meets them. “well, one of us has to keep up appearances,” he says vaguely, gaze flitting to soap’s back. “i need to get going.”
“come find me when you’re getting lunch?” 22/28
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he’s so busy burning a hole into the table and restraining himself from getting up and demanding what the fuck everyone’s problem is, the sudden presence of ghost at his shoulder makes him jump.
“steady, sergeant,” ghost says. “unless you’d like hot coffee thrown over you.” 9/28
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“oh, fuck you,” soap groans, knocking his knee into ghost’s under the table.
ghost nudges his knee back, keeping their thighs pressed together. “is something wrong?” he asks.
“huh?”
ghost cocks his head, gaze calculating. 14/28
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“you didn’t get any food?” he asks.
“already eaten.”
“are you trynna tell me you came all the way down here to get a cuppa?”
ghost turns to him, dark eyes warm. “you weren’t in your room,” he says. “i guessed you’d probably woken up hungry and thought i’d find you here.” 12/28
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thinking about soap who is always an active partner during sex… until ghost bends him over and gets his mouth on him and it’s like fucking magic
all it takes is a tongue up his arse and soap melts, pliant and soft and trembling all over, collapsing into the sheets
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ghost railing soap roughly from behind, grunting as he hauls soap up onto knees, one palm low on soap’s abdomen pressing down to feel the bulge of his cock, the other tight around soap’s throat, squeezing hard every few thrusts until soap is a drooling gasping whimpering mess
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soap downs his coffee in an attempt to hide that the flush has spread to his cheeks.
“how much paperwork is there to do?” he asks, clearing his throat.
ghost’s eyes narrow like they do when he’s annoyed by something.
“a shit ton, as always. could’ve been worse, though.” 19/28
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he’s so close their shoulders bump when he drinks his tea, barely revealing his mouth with a practiced ease as he lifts up the end of the balaclava just enough to take a sip.
soap leans into the closeness instinctively, even as his head is reeling with it. 11/28
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after a while, soap comes round, ghost now on his second cigarette.
he watches as soap slowly wakes up, smiles softly at the tiny grumbles he emits as he stretches, clearly feeling the ache.
he stays quiet as soap shifts on the sheets, rolling over and blinking blearily 3/13
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monster hybrid ghost thoughts pt 2🧵
since being paired with his new handler and the two of them making excellent progress, ghost has been cleared for missions with larger units now that their superiors are confident he is no longer a dangerous liability in the field.
monster hybrid ghost who’s started piling up the bodies of all the hostiles he’s pulled apart after missions to present to his handler soap, chest puffed out as he nudges his handler towards his courting gifts, and a bewildered, unaware soap who pats his head and thanks him
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i enjoy reading everyone’s headcanons for ghost on leave and being a himbo mess BUT hear me out…
confident gay simon riley with a closet full of fashionable turtlenecks, colourful tight fitting button downs, and a few corduroy jackets as well as his leather ones +
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soap is so used to waking up first, leaving a warm body behind him in bed.
it’s muscle memory to get two mugs out, making himself coffee and brewing ghost tea.
except the bed he leaves is empty now, and the tea he still brews sits untouched on the counter, slowly going cold.
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soap's eyebrows raise at that. "you cocky shite."
ghost shrugs, trying not to grin too widely. "s'not everyday a guy passes out moaning on your cock."
soap flops back down onto the sheets, throwing an arm over his face. "shite. i'm never hearin' the end of this, am i?" 6/13
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there is something so inexplicably hot about ghostsoap being so desperate for each other in the short amount of time they find to fall together that they barely ever manage to get any clothes off, it’s just grinding hips and fumbling hands and muffled moans and panting breaths
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JEALOUS GHOST POSSESSIVE GHOST JEALOUS GHOST POSSESSIVE GHOSTJTJFKFGJ
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thinking about cumdump soap 🥰 absolutely wrecked 🥰 pumped full 🥰 belly swollen 🥰 all plugged up 🥰
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"nah, mate. not until it happens again, anyway."
that has soap looking over at him again, chest flushed and legs spread. "oh yeah?"
fuck, ghost wants to sink his teeth into him, wants to feel the way his body gives under the pressure of his hands, aches to kiss his lovely 7/13
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in ghost's direction, lips immediately curling into a smile when his eyes land on him.
"what're you doin' over there?" he asks, carefully sitting up, wincing a little.
"what's it look like?"
soap rolls his eyes. "you really needed to smoke that badly?" 4/13
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ghost sucks in a breath, soap staying completely still.
he pulls the trigger, the shot firing clean and true.
“target down,” ghost announces into the radio, voice rough—and soap’s hips buck wildly, throat tightening around ghost’s cock as he comes in his pants.
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ghost chuckles warmly, taking another long drag, eyes roaming over all that lovely bare skin; thinks he wants to get his mouth on him again.
"nah," he says. "but you were out for a while."
pink flushes prettily over soap's cheeks. "ah, shit. sorry."
"don't be." 5/13
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arching as ghost's hands wander southward, teasing over the dip of his spine before taking large handfuls of his full ass and squeezing.
"if it feels anything like this," soap says, "you'll hear no complaints from me. i'm all yours."
ghost's head spins, heart pounding. 12/13
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adding to this, he’s obsessed with kissing ghost.
it’s one of the things he’s the most desperate for, fingers clutching at the hem of ghost’s balaclava every time ghost closes the space between them, silently begging for ghost to hold his jaw and fuck his mouth with his tongue.
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the valentines drabble i planned was soap always wanting to kiss ghost but ghost not quite being comfortable enough to lift his mask up, so on valentines he surprises soap, asking him to trust him as he gently ties a blindfold over soap's eyes—and finally kisses him properly 🥺
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face between his hands.
he kisses him, breathing smoke into his mouth. soap groans softly, hips pressing forward, lips soft and pliant as ghost licks between them.
"it's a promise," ghost affirms.
soap fits a hand over the shape of his slowly filling cock, 10/13
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