#hints of intended Ghoap

[awkward-fink]

It is the middle of the night, moon having risen to its zenith, shining its cold white light through the glass of your window, illuminating the small glass globe with a night sky depicted in it. You couldn’t sleep. Something kept you awake, kept you from closing your eyes for more than a few minutes. Your body can’t relax. The day had been stressful, and it had frayed your nerves. You needed something to relax yourself, something to get rid of all the stress and pressure. Training always helped you the most, the working of your muscles, sweat dripping down your brow and neck, the loosening of muscles.

This was exactly what you needed.

The way to the training rooms is not far, it’s only out of the barracks and once over the outside sport track to the hall. And the door to the training rooms is thankfully always open, for when other soldiers and coworkers have shift change and need some exercise. So, it’s not surprising that the door to the rooms is open, green light shining at the side of the number pad lock at the side of the main door. A main door that is already a bit opened, letting a shine of yellow and whitish light out into the night, illuminating your path.

What is surprising is the sound that has you stopping in your tracks. Your hand is outstretched to open the door fully, your fingers brushing the edge of the door, your foot lifted to take the next step, lips parted to call out a greeting to whoever is inside, when you freeze.

The sound reaching your ears is a deep and low moan, echoing through the training room and outside. And it doesn’t stay with one, its followed by another, longer and louder moan and the sounds of a hand slapping the training mats repeatedly.

You creep closer, can’t help yourself, can’t help the curiosity eating you, wanting to know who is making this sounds. And what you see, has your eyes widen and your teeth sinking into the meat of your palm to stay quiet.

You can see two of your coworkers, two of the Taskforce under Captain Price. You know them by the names of Ghost and Soap, a duo of men that are barely apart for a longer length of time for as long as you are on base now. And you hadn’t given the rumors much thought, but, by everything holy, this… - This!

Ghost is standing on top of the training mat, his back towards you, slightly leaned over, his legs spread out for a firmer stance. His pants are hanging low on his hip, lopsided and barely covering his ass as his boxershorts is also pulled down slightly and in an angle, indicating that its probably lower in front than what you can see. There is sweat glistening at the small of his back and you can hear him grunting. One of his hands is out of view but the other -

“Oh God! Dinnae pull it oot." -the other is holding up a hairy leg belonging to the Scotsman laying on the mat from what you can see in between Ghosts spread legs. Soaps foot is pressing into Ghost’s hand, the other naked and bare leg hooked around the Lieutenants hip tightly. Soap is only laying with his upper body on the mat, his hands scrambling over the rough surface as he curses, searching for something to hold on to, his lower body is up and probably against the hips of Ghost, you think. A pile of cloth, unidentifiable for you, lays beside the mat, but the Scottish flag can be seen on the cloth.

“English, MacTavish.” Ghost growls lowly, his hand holding the foot changing its grip to pull the other man even closer, his hips pressing forwards as Soap moans out aloud again, eyes closed, and head thrown backwards onto the mat. "Ye're splitten me apart!" the Scotsman groans, hips bucking, his legs twitching. “Push against me, just a little bit more, you can take it, can’t you?” Ghost growls, head tilting to the side, mask slightly rolling upwards to show the sweat slick side of his neck in the overhead lights.

“Good lad, just a bit more, trust me, you can take it, its not the first time.” Soap’s mouth falls open, a heavy and lewd sounding moan falling from his glistening lips. "God, it feels amazing, dinnae hold back!" – „Never.“

You can’t help the whimper as you watch Ghosts hips twitch forward and the sudden moan of the Scot has you blushing furiously. You can’t watch this! You shouldn’t be watching this!

With a soft mewl, hidden under another of the Scotsman’s curses and groans, you suddenly turn and run. A cold shower would do you wonders now! You won’t be able to look them into the eyes in the coming days! ------------------------------------------

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Extra: “I told you to stretch before the workout, you Idiot.” "Ah reckoned Ah wis supple enough fur a wee bit o' exercise wi ye." “Entglish, Soap.” “…. Noted and not doing this again, my leg is killing me.” “Eat more bananas, helps with the cramps.”

[gh0stwh1sp3r3r]

just realised I never posted this anywhere except my wattpad LOL

anyways short little Ghoap (Ghost x Soap — COD MWII) thingy :3

This is an older fic of mine, sorry for any mistakes !!

*no smut or warnings, just stupid flirting & some kissing <3

> mlm / boy x boy : don’t like it then just scroll!!

🚬 Burning Desires ❤️‍🔥

A short Ghost x Soap (Ghoap) Call Of Duty MWII fic.

( by @Gh0stWh1sp3r3r )

Ghost had never been a smoker, ever. But eventually, he needed a quick fix, and although he hated smoking—and still did, he couldn’t stop. Why? Because it was his way to spend extra time with Johnny. His Johnny.

At first, Ghost had slipped away during breaks to discreetly have a cigarette, but he found himself quickly joined by none other than the charming Scot’, John ‘Soap’ MacTavish. Or, to Ghost, Johnny. Johnny and Ghost were best friends, at first they used to bicker and argue, annoy eachother even, but they’d grown close, very close, and have a very special bond—a relationship that went beyond mere friendship and camaraderie.

Ghost didn’t know why Soap had joined him each afternoon for a quick smoke break, and at first he was irritated by him, but now—he actually quite liked his presence. He enjoyed the company, more than he’d like to admit.

“Why do you bother to always join me?” He asked, glancing at Soap as he took another drag from his cigarette, puffing the smoke out as he leaned against a wall behind the base, with Johnny standing beside him. His question wasn’t rude, or intended to be harsh—he hadn’t grown tired of his company—he was just genuinely curious.

“Why not?” Johnny shrugged, as he puffed away the smoke from his own cigarette. “And why bother to smoke? Thought you said you hated smoking?” He asked, nonchalantly with a slightly curious glance, though there was a subtle hint of genuine concern in his voice. Simon used to hate smoking, what happened? Simon had always scolded Soap for smoking.

Infact, Johnny didn’t like smoking either, because of that—but he just had a bad habit of falling back into this same old routine—and it meant he got to spend a bit of extra time with Ghost.

Ghost raised an eyebrow at Johnny's response, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He took a drag from his cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke that dissipated into the air.

"I may have changed my mind about smoking," Ghost replied, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. He leaned against the wall, the tattoo sleeve on his left arm peeking out from beneath his dark clothes.

He glanced at Johnny, his eyes softening slightly at the concern evident in the other man's voice. It was a rare sight to see Johnny show genuine care, and it didn't go unnoticed by Ghost.

"And as for why I bother to smoke... Maybe it's the only excuse I have to spend a few extra moments with you," he admitted, his tone sincere yet laced with a hint of playfulness. The air around them seemed to crackle with unspoken tension, a silent understanding between the two soldiers.

Soap’s gaze lingered on Ghost for a moment longer than necessary, taking in his form—his tattoos peeking out, muscular arms, his face partially, ever so slightly revealed as he lifted his mask up just a fraction to take a drag from the cigarette. And those eyes, god, those eyes—he was irresistible, so fucking hot—but god, he’d hate him if he knew how Soap felt, and thought.

A hint of a smile played on Johnny’s lips at his admission, a very faint blush creeping across his cheeks at his words. He leaned against the wall beside Ghost, quietly, for a moment, his icy blue eyes thoughtful for a moment as he squished his cigarette butt and flicked the ashes away, almost contemplative, before he gazed at him and spoke, “If you wanted to spend time with me we could always go for a drink, or you could just come ‘round to my room after our duties and we could hangout? Better than smoking, it’s not good for you.” He replied, with a smile, playfully scolding Ghost for smoking, just as Ghost used to do for him. Ghost was a good influence on Soap, and it was beginning to show.

With a cheeky grin and a mischievous look in his eyes, Johnny suddenly reached out and snatched up Ghost’s cigarette, swiping it away from him as he clicked his tongue in a mockingly scolding gesture, shaking his head. He stole his cigarette and brought it to his own mouth, smugly. Soap was allowed to smoke, but Ghost was not, he playfully refused to let him, amused.

But, Ghost wouldn’t let that happen—if he wasn’t allowed to smoke, neither was Johnny. It wasn’t good for Soap either.

Ghost couldn't help but notice the subtle blush that graced Johnny's cheeks, a sight that made his heart race a little faster. He watched as Johnny leaned against the wall beside him, their proximity creating a tension that was palpable in the air.

"I’d like that, Johnny," Ghost replied, his voice soft yet filled with a hint of anticipation. The thought of spending more time with Johnny, getting to know him beyond their missions and training, held a certain allure.

However, Ghost's amusement sparked as Johnny playfully snatched his cigarette, a teasing grin on his face. Ghost chuckled softly at Johnny's antics, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Without missing a beat, Ghost reached out to take back his cigarette, a playful glint in his own eyes.

"Careful there, Soap. If smoking isn't good for me, it isn't good for you either," he quipped, a smirk playing on his lips as he reached out to take it back..

Johnny softly chuckled, amused as he faintly blushed. He playfully shook his head, quickly taking a drag before Ghost could reach and grab his cigarette back.. “Nope! I put my mouth on it, it’s mine now!~” He declared, with a grin, smugly. Soap seemed innocent in that moment, for once not realising the suggestiveness he’d accidentally brought to the conversation.

Ghost couldn't help but chuckle at Johnny's playful defiance, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He watched as Johnny took a drag from his cigarette, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he declared ownership over it. Ghost's smirk widened as he realized the unintended suggestiveness in Johnny's words.

"Oh, is that how it works now?" Ghost replied, his voice laced with a teasing tone. He took a step closer to Johnny, his gaze intense as he closed the gap between them. With a swift movement, Ghost reached out to cup Johnny's chin, his touch firm yet gentle.

"Then I guess I'll have to claim what's mine," Ghost murmured, his voice low and husky. Without waiting for a response, he closed the distance between them, capturing Johnny's lips in a heated kiss. The taste of smoke lingered between them, adding to the intensity of the moment as they shared a passionate embrace.

The cigarette fell to the ground, discarded, as Ghost tilted Soap’s chin up, gently. Johnny’s eyes widened in surprise, turning red as he kissed him, blushing. But he didn’t pull away or reject him, didn’t show any signs of reluctance—he leaned in, reciprocating the kiss, blushing.

Johnny’s lips quivered as they parted from Ghost’s again, blushing as he gazed at him in a mix of shock, pleasure, desire, love and need. His breaths were ragged gasps as he remained close to Simon, breathlessly. “Fuck… You know you’re much more addicting than a cigarette—maybe we ought to do this instead every day..?~” He murmured against his lips, teasingly, a mischievous and playful glint in his icy blue eyes.

The discarded cigarette lay forgotten on the ground as the intensity between Ghost and Johnny grew. Ghost's touch was electric, sending shivers down Johnny's spine as he tilted his chin up. The look in Johnny's eyes was a mix of surprise, desire, and a hint of vulnerability—all blending together into an intoxicating concoction..

As their lips met in a heated kiss, Johnny's initial shock melted away, replaced by a deep sense of longing and affection. And he reciprocated Ghost's kiss with equal fervor, his heart pounding in his chest with a mixture of emotions.

When their lips parted, Johnny's cheeks were flushed, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he gazed into Ghost's eyes. The air between them crackled with a newfound energy, a connection that went beyond words.

"You're right," Simon whispered, his voice barely above a breath as he spoke against Soap’s lips. A playful smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he continued, "You're much more addictive than any cigarette. I wouldn't mind making this a daily habit." His voice held a hint of mischief, his eyes sparkling with a newfound fire as he leaned in, eager for more of Soap’s intoxicating presence…

( sorry if I fucked up any of the colour coding or there’s any typos, idfk what I’m doing,)