TwoBranches
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Maybe it’s those eyes of his, rich brown and so ridiculously big. They won’t stop staring at him, half lidded even through the kissing. He wanted to see the sad edge they carry disappear, the way it does for a while after every time he and Soap get to fuck.
Maybe he’s had a sip too many, the alcohol making him clumsy and unraveling what little reservations he had left, or the fact that the mask was off because Ghost let him, that makes him drop to his knees.A hand rises up to his neck before he’s even fully on the floor, blindingly fast.
“Johnny.”
And Soap isn’t even surprised.
Because that’s the thing. Ghost is always the one who touches.Series
- Part 2 of The Tangle in the Wire
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It should worry the hell out of him, the way he could stare at the man’s hands as they tore through muscle, broke bone, and crave to have them running through his body, fingernails digging in and still bloody. It has made him become a part of something bigger in the worst possible way, outside of the carefully built system that saves lives and takes them, never for selfish reasons. Because he would kill for that man without an order, against an order, control slipping through his fingers like a weight tied to a rope, burning the bare skin of his palms.
For a few moments, they just sit there, side by side, the only sounds being the distant buzzing of the generator and the trickle of soft rain against the safehouse’s ventilation system.
“Soap.”
“Simon.”
Ghost looks at him. His eyes lack the usual edge, replaced by something Soap might dare to call doubt, that was directed to him in rare, quiet moments.
“Soaking my shirt up won’t dry up yours.”
Or; their car dies out in the middle of nowhere. They make the most of the time they have while waiting for aid.
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- Part 1 of The Tangle in the Wire
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“It’s like… You only get to know half of it.” Her brow is furrowed as she fiddles with the small figurine. “It can’t go that well if you have no clue of what else you’re going to work with.”
“Could show you my half.”
He waits for some kind of comeback, or a half-assed scoff that never comes. Instead, her hands freeze, and her gaze meets his.
“Okay.”
It’s a soft spoken, serious answer that he wasn’t expecting. She was sitting still, observing him in that careful way that always made him want to kiss her on the mouth. Dallas could have sworn time had stopped, if it weren’t for the dust particles dancing in the air like fireflies.
“Okay.” He mouths back.- Language:
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Estaban de coña. Podría haber jurado que ella estaba de coña. Pero ahora, esperando sentado sobre el taburete con el cuaderno en las manos mientras ella se quita la camisa, no está tan seguro.
Dios, es suave por todas partes.
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Cessanne threw her head back at his words, a shaky “please” leaving her lips as her thighs started to tremble. He felt the hand stimulating her own clit speeding up, chasing release.
“My love, I wanna fuck you for hours. I wanna get you so filled up you can’t stop it from coming out-“ She lets out a cry. “so I have to take it with my fingers,” he removes his digits from inside. “And get it in again, fuck it into you again so no drop is wasted.” With one swift thrust, he pushes them back in.
He wasn't sure how he was going to last. Hell, he wasn’t even sure how he was going to survive.
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don't predict your death, 'cause i like you the best by sunshine_patriot
Fandoms: Call of Duty (Video Games)
14 Jan 2023
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“You’re doing good, Simon,” Soap says idly, switching out the cotton and disinfectant for bandages.
Ghost grunts, shuffling against the hard floor. “By the time you’re done, our exfil will have had time to stop for drinks.”
He raises an exploratory hand to touch the marred skin, but Soap swats it away. He captures the hand in his own offhand, lacing his fingers with his lieutenant’s and squeezing in apology. After a moment, Ghost squeezes back.
“Round of bourbon on you, tonight?” Ghost asks, a sly smile playing at his full lips. His voice is strained from trying to jostle his injury as little as possible, but the familiarity of his deep teasing tone makes Soap’s head cloudy.
“You propositioning me, Ghost?” Soap asks, incredulous laughter bubbling out of his chest.
Ghost gets injured on a mission, so Soap patches him up.
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Bookmarked by TwoBranches
23 Jul 2026
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Ghost has been hard at work tackling his aversion to touch since the 141 came together. He’d been irate the first time Soap and Gaz tried casually throwing an arm around him. He had felt repulsed, nauseous, scared…
Warm. Comforted.
It took him a few weeks to admit to himself and his therapist that physical touch was a love language he has been severely starved of.
Thankfully it’s a language that his squad is annoyingly fluent in. More often than not he loves being close to his team now.
Only Soap has this strange ability to make him crave more, though.
Featuring Ghost with a PTSD induced temperature regulation issue and Soap, who wants nothing more than to be used as a personal heater.Bookmarked by TwoBranches
13 Jul 2026
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Tomorrow, Soap would force himself to be awake at six. He’d be ready, sitting on the stoop, a cup of coffee in one hand and his rifle in the other.
And when he shot Ghost dead, he’d plant thistle in the viscera he left behind.
Ten years after surviving a gunshot wound to the head, Soap is struggling with the reality of retirement and the abrupt, seemingly unprompted reappearance of his ex-lover and former lieutenant. But healing isn't linear, and sometimes things need to shatter and break before they can be built back up anew.
Bookmarked by TwoBranches
09 Jul 2026
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The break-up didn’t come out of nowhere. It was a storm circling the Riley/MacTavish relationship for months now. But Simon was still surprised when John actually called it quits. Laying in bed alone now, he could remember what John yelled just a few hours earlier. Things about how he drank to much, smoked too much. Wasn't changing for shit. Simon knew, after only a few weeks without Johnny, he needed him back. That's where Operation: Win Johnny Back came into play.
OR
Johnny breaks up with Simon due to Simon's alcohol addiction. Simon decides he needs to win the love of his life back, even if it means losing all of his vices.
Bookmarked by TwoBranches
09 Jul 2026
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“Missed me,” Ghost crackles in his ear. Warm, teasing. A tone that Soap is almost certain is reserved for him.
Soap scoffs. "Prove it."
“Aw,” Ghost tuts. “Don’t trust me?”
No one I trust more, Sir. He doesn’t say it. Not that he isn’t sure Ghost already knows; if he’s even half as inhumanly perceptive as everyone gives him credit for, then he has to know, has to feel that tangible presence orbiting between them. (The direct acknowledgement of this entity feels too unshakably taboo. A point of no return that takes the shape of something gnarly; a feral elephant in the room that threatens to maul one or both of them down if addressed.)
“Bastard,” he grumbles instead. Wonders if his voice is as thick with affection over the com as it sounds spoken aloud. Would it matter, if it was?
//
[smut all the way down with a healthy dose of yearning]
Bookmarked by TwoBranches
12 Jun 2026