#SoapGhost

[martyfive]

not a word

[myriadblvck]

famous soap who always is very known for escaping the bodyguards his managers assign him.

fans have taken so many pictures of Soap doing weird shit to escape.

eventually, fans get only take photos of Ghost carrying Soap in ‘air jail’ (holding Soap up in the air by his waist) back to wherever he’s supposed to be.

Sometimes, Ghost carries Soap and offers him to his fans. He literally holds him out a few inches from the ground and Soap happily talks with his fans until Ghost decides it’s time for Soap to go back to his dressing room.

Sometimes, Ghost just carries Soap on his back and Soap shouts and waves. Other times, Soap dramatically goes limp and Ghost is pictured dragging him a foot or two before he fireman carries Soap.

Nobody is surprised when a paparazzi photo is leaked of Ghost and Soap kissing.

[cod-dump]

Ghost: Sorry for being offputting and strange and bizarre and weird as fuck last night I was being myself

Soap: Oh? You were finally being yourself? Hot

Ghost: … I want to hit you

[grechka-zhest]

[ghcstao3]

android ghost who’s just had his coding so beyond messed up that he’s at a point where he completely believes he’s human.

he operates like he is, believes in feelings and a beating heart, and when he gets injured he thinks it’s only normal to patch himself up with metal and grease like he’s bleeding. like he’s actually hurt.

android ghost being put on price’s team once recovered from roba’s clutches, tortured to the extent of believing in nonexistent pain, in reliving nightmares that shouldn’t be so horrifying to a robot as they are to a human. and price, who can’t bring himself to try and tell ghost that he isn’t alive. that he isn’t flesh nor blood.

then soap comes along. he treats ghost like a human, yes—but something about him reminds ghost that he isn’t. that he isn’t a bright speck of life in the universe, not radiant in the way soap is. soap, as kind as he is, ends up reminding ghost who he truly is, what he truly is, and it breaks the android. he shuts down, falls back on old habits he should’ve never broken. old habits and programming that have him following commands to a T, never failing, never faltering. because he isn’t human as much as crossed wires had led him to believe for so long.

yet—it’s also soap who teaches him that it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t matter what ghost might be physically, no. if he thinks he feels, then he does.

if he thinks he’s in love with soap, then he is. no matter how unconventional or unrealistic or—

“you’re still ghost,” soap says to him. “and if ghost happens to be an android, then so be it. every other aspect of you is still human to me, and that’s all i care about.”

so maybe ghost isn’t physically human. but if soap believes him to be in every other way, then it must be true, and ghost hadn’t been wrong in the first place.

[tanked-up]

Recruit approaches Ghost: Question, you and that Mohawk guy are having sm’thing..?

(Ghost continues doing whatever he’s doing with no bother to answer)

Recruit: If there’s nothing going on between you two, then you don’t mind me asking him on a dat-

Ghost mumbles: I will have you buried 10 feet underground on that field over there

—————————————————

10 minutes later

Price: So why is it you wanna transfer, again?

Recruit muttering: I’ve made some enemies that I’m not proud of.

[starrynights-and-rainyfandoms]

Gaz: I don’t get it. Why would anyone want to harm Soap?

Graves: Maybe because they met him?

Gaz: …

Ghost: …

Price: …

Graves: Did I say that out loud?

Ghost: Laswell, I need an airstrike.

[shadow0-1]

blacklight

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Look I know we don’t really like soft SoapGhost but I do

I just like the thought of them together but the quiet moments. When they’re off mission and they’re exhausted to the point that speaking takes too much out of them, but they can’t seem to drift away from each other, which is surprising for Ghost.

Soap haphazardly tosses his gear off, relishing in the relief his feels while Ghost puts his gear and Soap’s neatly back where it belongs.

They both take a shower together. Soap washing Ghost’s back and hair for him while Ghost lets the hot water wash off the mission.

When they’re dressed in comfier clothes they both crash on the same bed together, barely fitting on it at the same time.

Ghost laying comfortably on his back, Soap laying comfortably on his side.

Ghost has his arm around Soap, his chin nuzzled against his head.

Soap has his arm around Ghost, his ear pressed right against his heart.

The two breathe slowly in unison, sleep not quite there but enough to have them dozing off together in the warmth of each other.

“Glad you made it, Johnny.” Ghost whispers into his hair, the first words he’s spoken since the landed.

“Aye…glad you’re still here, Simon.” Soap whispers back, not one to get any louder.

And after those last few spoken words, as if they needed confirmation they both were still alive, still there, they finally fall asleep.

[grimmroach]

throws fish at you

[s3rrrpentine]

ghosts meeting!

a disclaimer (i should have told this earlier but anyways) this comic is ambiguous and open to interpretation (^◇^；) i'm not a good storyteller nor do i have lores about them so sometimes each update/chapter is not always closely related to each other! i hope you still enjoy it nevertheless...

[amazeingartist]

ghostsoap with pet names

(sharing some thoughts here)

soap and ghost are together but it barely changes their dynamic, still act like typical military dudes just maybe a bit more touchy then most, anyway I can imagine like. there being an unspoken thing with pet names and proper terms of endearment and so they don't have any.

they're big men they can't just call each other babe or sweetie and whatnot, they prefer to give each other shit anyways so what's the point in it you know? it's just not how they function as a couple

well it is until the whole squad comes back exhausted and sleep deprived out of their minds that ghost lets slip a "love" in regards to soap, who, the little shit, starts tiredly teasing ghost saying "oh yes dear, honey, light of my life, bugaboo" and just going on and on and on

ghost obviously tells him to stfu and it's a funny moment but soap doesn't let go of the slip up just yet and proceeds to acknowledge ghost with a bunch of term of endearment to over next couple days

no one outside the 141 knows they're actually together, so when they hear soap call ghost "dearest" they all just think soap's just being an cheeky insubordinate ass to his superior (which is nothing new) and think nothing of it

over the course of 3 days the joke stops being a joke and both end up coming around to the idea of pet names, but like hell are either of them will just admit it. So on the morning of the 4th day, wrapped up together in ghost's room it gets brought up

ghost's trying, although not all that hard, to untangle himself from soap while soap is complaining for 10 more minutes. ghost's second alarm starts going off which means it's really time to get up and ghost pries soap off him

ghost's about to get off the bed when soap holds his wrist muttering "start's at 0700, price doesn't need ya yet love, stay"

which has ghost smirking, leaning back over to kiss soap's temple,

"careful johnny, might think you're saying it for real this time"

"and what if I am, got a problem with it"

"not at all sweetheart"

and now they use a few pet names here and there, mostly in private but occasionally in the open too. it's not enough for price to speak to the both of them and beside, everyone else thinks it's a bit so

[myriadblvck]

I feel like Soap and Ghost’s best friends -> lovers who are still best friends is important.

because they don’t flirt like lovers all the time. they flirt like schoolchildren. They poke each other in the ribs, give each other wet willies, push and pull at each other’s limbs, they shoulder check each other, full body checks, they trip each other, kick each other under the table, insult each other, make horrible ‘yer mum’ jokes, they probably even bite.

the more ‘normal’ forms of love were weaved into that. Ghost kisses Soap on the cheek before giving him a wet willie and running away before Soap can say anything. They go from kicking each other under the table to cause drama to just playing footsies, Ghost shoulder checks Soap and immediately gets pulled into a suffocating hug. They kiss goodnight and Soap digs his fingers into the ticklish spot on Ghost’s neck. Ghost trips Soap into his arms. Soap does the same, even if it works less often. ‘your mum’ jokes become ‘don’t say those things about my mother in law’ in a jokingly offended tone. Casual intimacy of holding one another gets turned into a play fight because Soap put his cold toes in Ghost’s boxers. Ghost holds Soap for a long time before suddenly licking his cheek and running before Soap can retaliate. Soap lays in Ghost’s lap for hours before he pokes a pressure point that has Ghost jumping up off the couch.

the best friend -> lovers pipeline is so important because you know Soap and Ghost bother the shit out of each other. You hear their fond annoyance. Do you understand how amplified this would be with a shared romantic interest? DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?? ARE YOU HEARING MY WORDS

[cod-dump]

Gaz: *staring horrified at a stack of papers*

Soap: … what’s that?

Gaz: I was joking with a soldier about erotica and she told me she could make me weep

Soap: so is that-?

Gaz: I regret doubting her… it’s like Fifty Shades of Grey but in like fifty pages… in really small writing… front to back…

Soap: Oh god… can I-?

Gaz: *slides the papers over to him*

Soap: *snatches the pages up and runs*

Gaz, not bothering to watch him leave: Poor Ghost

[losersimonriley]

Just realised when ghost said “get off the boat, Johnny” he couldn’t actually see him like Laswell could. He just. Fuckin knew. Because he knows Soap.

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ BUT YOU BELONG TO ME — you, your boyfriend johnny, and his friend simon

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, polyamory, threesome, enemies to lovers, bi ghoap, angry sex, hate sex (kinda), dom/sub undertones, bickering, friends to lovers (for ghoap), love confessions

// NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT //

You love Johnny's friends.

Really, you do. They're a rowdy bunch, all in-your-face with their larger than life personalities and even larger frames. However, overall, they're people you don't mind hanging out with, as long as your lover is by your side.

But that's all... general.

It's an entirely different story when discussing Johnny's closest friend. The only other person to hold their own acre of property in his gentle heart. A man who the Scot admires almost as much, if not the same amount, as he does you.

Simon Riley.

Since the day you met the lieutenant, you knew that your relationship was going to be a rough one.

He's quiet. Annoyingly so. Somehow, he manages to deliver the nastiest of words without opening his mouth, or taking off that damn balaclava of his.

No. He says it all with deep brown eyes, and overall presence. Who the fuck does that? Can manage to do that?

The feel is mutual, you discovered within two seconds of meeting him for the first time, all those months ago. All it took was a firm, almost warning, shake of your hand to cement that fact, and a hardening glare of his from behind the mask.

Since that very first interaction, the animosity between you both has been nothing if not apparent.

And, look, you try. Really, you do. This is your soulmate's best friend, the one who he spends an equal amount of free time with as you. That's all fine. You're happy for Johnny.

It only becomes a problem when his love for the two of you overlap. When he invites you both over at the same time, or you plan to go on a date and Simon just 'happens to be there'.

It's weird. Alarm bells siren in your ears, red flags are waved in your head, and you have an inner monologue yelling at a mile per minute.

At the end of the day, if you ever truly suspected Johnny of being unfaithful, you would end things.

You knew your worth, even if the pain would be near unbearable.

But this is different. Hell, you know that this is different. And not because it's a man -- your boyfriend had always been open with his inclinations for just about any gender -- but because it's Simon, and because it's you.

So.

When you and Simon are in the same room together, it encompasses a hell of a lot of insults and pettiness from your end, with Simon's cold glares and huffs of indignation on his.

It's a never-ending cycle.

Johnny, for his part, puts up with it. He laughs it off, cooling the mood, because that's who he is. It's part of the reason that you love the man, his ability to work with people and deal with confrontation outside of missions.

Neither you or Simon could've properly prepared for his patience to end, however.

Or the realisation he came to.

You're spending the night at Johnny's, which, at this point, is an event occurring more often than not, when Simon knocks on the door.

And, look. Usually you'd pull up your big girl pants and deal with it.

But you'd been waiting for weeks to try something out with Johnny. You'd both done all the research, ordered the rope, and bought the blindfold and cuffs. The wine in your hands and makeup you'd done with the specific intention to cry it off later said just as much.

It all collapses onto itself when Simon fucking Riley knocks on the door.

Johnny gives you an apologetic rinse, before hopping off of the ouch and lightly jogging to the front door, unlocking it and cracking it open. You mourn the lack of his body heat, his warm body against your own.

The dim lights from the warm yellow lights sat at the back wall cast heavy shadows over Simon's face -- his maskless one. It's rare that he shows up without it. In fact, that's only happened once in the year and a half you've known the guy.

"What's up, mate?" Johnny asks with a tilt of his head, leaning against the door frame and folding his muscled arms over his bulky chest.

Lord, if you didn't already have him, you'd be praying to every God to get your hands on that frame of his.

Simon replies quiet enough that you can't hear, and you know it's an intentional act. It shouldn't piss you off as much as it does, but you can't help the feeling of annoyance and distaste creep into your mouth like a poisonous acid, lacing your tongue with the bitterness.

Johnny murmurs back his reply, before Simon steps in, and your boyfriend shuts the door closed behind him.

"Are you serious?" The words slip out on your own accord, before you can stop them. They're accusatory, angry, and... reflective of your current mood.

If Simon's responding glare could kill, you'd be six feet under. "Date night?" Is his dry, curt reply, and fury boils in your blood.

"He had no where else to go, lass," Is Johnny's input, but you don't even spare him a glance. No. Your ire is all directed at his best friend, and he deserves every last drop of it.

"Actually, yes, it is date night," You quip back, ripping the blanket off of yourself and standing up, moving towards the two men where they stand in the doorway. The light creeps onto the floorboards, the darkened corner of the room shrouding yourselves in shadows. "You know. One without your ass for once."

Johnny rubs his roughened hand over his face, looking up to the roof as if asking it to spare him.

With a roll of his eyes, Simon spares you a flitting, dismissive glance, before turning back to his best friend. "Needta' keep her on a tighter leash."

There's a moment, then. One where you're stuck on a forked path, where each option seem as unimportant as gum on a city sidewalk.

They'll both change the course of your life forever -- but it certainly doesn't feel like it, and it certainly isn't about to affect your decision-making in the slightest.

"Is that why you can't get laid, huh, Simon? Want a submissive little wife you can walk all over? Didn't know you were compensating that fucking much. Hell, if you're that fucking desperate, we can lend you a few bucks and you can go get lucky at the fucking strip club!"

There's a tense silence, that passes for a few beats.

One.

Two.

And then Simon scoffs a nasty, incredulous sound, his attention now fully on you. "Didn't realise ya were so passionate about where I stick my dick, Princess."

It's a lot of words from the usually quiet man, and -- and they're hostile, with anger lacing every syllable that escapes his scarred mouth.

You take a step closer, unknowingly, jabbing a finger into his -- admittedly built -- chest.

"Wasn't until it started to affect me and Johnny! You're always hovering, always fucking there -- hell, if it weren't for social decorum, you'd be pulled up beside the bed while he fucks me! Maybe you could take notes, hey? You know, so you could actually find a chick that could fuck this -- this clinginess out of you!"

It's a low blow, you know it all too well, but he reacts like a dog with a bone, and it's somehow satisfying, rewarding in a way it shouldn't be. Not at all.

"You're actin' like a spoiled fuckin' brat, Princess. What, Johnny's gotten' bored of your ass? Gotta beg him to fuck ya?"

You aren't entirely sure when the two of you had gotten just a breath's distance apart, when you'd had to start tilting your head back to keep eye contact, when the tips of your bare feet started pressing against his black shoes.

Both of your breaths come out ragged, and you're entirely in your own world, forgetting all about the man holding both of your affections, the man that started this vitriol-filled relationship in the first place.

"What? Wish it was you he was fuckin' instead?" You hiss, lowly, calculated, and Simon rears back as if you've slapped him.

In a way, you might just have.

"You need to get put in your fuckin' place," is his slow, scarily calm quip in return. Your spine is ramrod straight, eyes filled with a fire in the barely-there light.

"You need to get laid," you seethe, hands balling into fists at your sides.

"Ye both needta' fuck a'd get it over with."

Silence, once more, fills the room, infinitely more cataclysmic than what any of you had planned for.

But that's just it.

There's no planning a calamity.

"What?" Johnny shrugs, as if he hasn't set a bomb between you all, as if he hadn't planned for you all to fear shrapnel scraping your skin. "Dinnae realise it was a fuckin' revelation."

"Johnny --" you begin, or, well, you try to, but your brain isn't exactly cooperating with your mouth, and vice versa.

"No, love, I'm serious," he raises his hands, palms facing both you and Simon in a placating gesture. "Hell, yer both givin' me a boner jus' from watchin' ya both go at it."

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, he's right. He's so fucking right. The tension, the thinly veiled animostiy between you both -- it's never been one of pure hatred. Never been one of pure, mutual dislike.

It's been one dripping of sex, of desire. One consisting of lashing words and biting tones because you couldn't unleash them on each other in the one way you wanted to.

And maybe something else. Something you're not quite ready to face, not yet, not now.

But you will. Someday.

"Johnny..." Simon's brows are pulled together, and god, now that your lover has made you confront the feelings so heavily pushed down inside of you, you realise how beautiful the man is. Short, almost messy blonde hair, scarred face consisting of sharp features and defined cheekbones.

He's disarming in how attractive he is.

And when paired with Johnny? It's as destructive as the very bomb resting between all three of you, the one that your partner had constructed with bare hands and an ever barer heart.

"Yer tellin' me ya don't wanna bend 'er over the couch?" Johnny asks, flippantly, a genuine question.

The silence is as good of a reply as any words, and the man figures as much.

It's Simon's next words that change everything.

"Not just 'er," he says.

Not just her.

...He says.

Not. Just. Her.

The warmth of the living room reflects in Simon's velvet brown eyes, in the vulnerable glint in them. With those three words, he's put everything on the line, prepared himself for the guillotine that's in Johnny's hands to erect.

You see your lover work his jaw, work around the words about to leave his mouth, and your stomach hollows out.

If it had, oddly enough, been anyone else. Anyone else, you'd have already asked them to leave, let alone after that remark. But it's Simon. The man you know Johnny loves just as much as he does you, and the man you've forced yourself to hate, if only to repress the emotions you wouldn't allow yourself to feel.

"You," Johnny says, properly rolling his tongue over the full word, letting its weight sink in to the quiet of the apartment. "Want us. Both."

A moment passes.

Then, Simon nods, albeit stilted and, dare you say it -- nervous.

They both look at you, then, and you realise that what happens next is entirely in your hands, that all of your lives are effectively at your mercy.

So, with a deep breath, you nod.

a/n. just a teaser for this oneshot. ghoap x reader agenda 4ever!! just something about them is so flavourful and then adding a reader-insert?? boom there u go that's the good shit