Soap Cod - Blog Posts

the urge to draw Ghost and Soap in matching Babygirl T-Shirts is way too high...

if i do hypothetical draw them should i add König?

hmmm

yeah thats just paper and guli

▪︎𝙅𝙤𝙝𝙣 “𝙎𝙤𝙖𝙥” 𝙈𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙝 | 𝙏𝙁 𝟭𝟰𝟭– 𝙊𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙁𝙞𝙡𝙚 ▪︎

JOHN "SOAP" MACTAVISH -> Dark Water Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022)

gaz: 😏😳😱

Spring is here!

Pure preciousness.

That smile...🫠

They’re idiots. It’s perfect.

He secretly loved it (took a lot of photos when they were distracted)

is that Soap here in this room with us, Ghost?

im working on a kinda punk soap!!! be prepared for the final sketch to be posted soon

Full under the cut

↓ CW for blood ↓

xP

MDNI 18+ / ~ 2.6k words / Oneshot

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Call of Duty (Video Games), Modern Warfare II (2022) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: John "Soap" MacTavish/Reader Characters: John "Soap" MacTavish, Reader Additional Tags: No use of y/n, POV Second Person, Smut, light fluff, Oral Sex, gender neutral reader, Brat John "Soap" MacTavish, A little bit anyway, Gender neutral terms of endearment for reader, Light Dom/sub, Hand Job, briefly, Soap gets most of the attention in this one folks, Light Possessive Language, Oneshot, Author Has Played Call of Duty, not well, but I did, Reboot John "Soap" MacTavish, Reader is an Operator, Desperate John "Soap" MacTavish, Not Beta Read, we die like (redacted), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot Summary:

Soap and you find yourselves in a safe house all on your own, in a rare moment free of danger, and manage to steal it for yourselves, indulging in some much needed RNR.

________________________________________________________________

"Tha's it, pet." Soap praises, his voice low and soft, a sound that's gradually been growing to be more and more of a comfort to you as of late, it mixes beautifully with the slick sound of his cock easing in and out of your mouth. He always takes his time with you when you let him have you like this, as if making sure to savour it, even his thick, scarred fingers which were tangled amongst the roots of your hair had a certain gentleness to them, amplified further by the way his other hand was caressing your cheek, the pad of his thumb tenderly brushing over the corner of your eyes, wiping away the involuntary tears that had gathered there and clung stubbornly to your lashes, before doing the same to the bit of drool that managed to escape from the corner of your mouth, and had been lazily dribbling down your chin.

Despite the way it makes your jaw twinge, getting to see the way his breathing gradually gets shallower, louder, adding to the symphony that always accompanied your intimate moments together alongside his staccato groans and grunts, made it all worth it. "Jus' like tha'." Every sound he made was nothing short of addictive, and you were determined to make it your life's mission to pull all of them from Soap's lips until you memorized them all.

Which is why you fight against his grasp to push him deeper into your mouth, until you can feel the weeping tip of his cock kiss the back of your throat, before you swallow around him. A low strangled groan forces its way out of Soap's body, seemingly startling the man himself as much as it delights you. He huffs and pulls you back up some, his hips twitch off the bunk, chasing the warmth of your mouth reflexively, as he shoots you a reprimanding look, one that didn't really come across as anything other than fond, which had his striking blue eyes — that are as vibrant as ever, even in the low lighting of the safe house, as if taking personal offence to anything that'd dare to try to hide them, and shining anyway from a mix of spite and Soap's special brand of unbridled defiance — narrowing minutely, doing nothing to hide the way they practically glinted with amusement and want. "Easy wi' tha', dinnae need ye hurtin' yerself."

You roll your eyes at him, and huff through your nose. With the tip of your tongue you follow one of the veins along the underside of Soap's cock up the length of his shaft, only to smooth your tongue right back out on the underside of his tip and running it right back down, over and over again. "Cheeky." Soap barely manages the word, his voice trailing off into another unsteady vocalization of his pleasure as his lashes flutter, fanning out when his eyes were mostly closed. That doesn't spur you to relent though. You both know that he likes it— he likes when you mouth off to him, when you walk by him brushing your hand along the small of his back, when you squeeze his arse when you know you can get away with it, when you eye him up, especially if you do it at a time where he's not allowed to immediately get his hands on you and retaliate, like during briefings.

Even with how much Soap seemed to live for you riling him up till he snapped, he never got rough about it, not unless you went out of your way to ask for him to. No, your big bad Sargent liked to keep a soft touch— even after you teased and prodded him to his limits with fleeting touches and words of filth whispered against the shell of his ear whenever they'd pop into mind, leaving him redfaced and caught off guard, often resulting in him staring at you like a puppy that just had a steak pulled out from under it as you'd go back to whatever it was you had been doing, teeth pressing against your bottom lip as you fruitlessly tried to force down your smirk.

When he'd finally break — and he always did no matter what it was that you had been doing to him — and take you over a desk, or against a wall, in the armoury, in your rooms in the barracks, or like now, on an old lumpy bunk that creaked at any and every movement, tucked away in a remote location in a safe house that was held together with little more than rusty nails and a fraying hope, with a crackling fire and the soft moonlight easing through the windows acting as your sole sources of light, he was still so fucking gentle. Touching you as if you were something delicate, or fleeting, like he thought if he moved too fast or pressed too hard you'd flit out of his touch like a startled finch, or as if you were a vase at risk of shattering into countless shards.

Keeping your hands flat, you gently smooth your palms over the tops of his thighs, savouring the way you could feel the slightest of tremours in them. His belt buckle jingles softly, hitting against itself from your fingers catching the hem of his pants. In your rush to get at him earlier you had merely pushed down as much as they had to be, leaving them quickly forgotten after the fact.

It was about time you corrected that.

Shifting on your knees, you draw back until only the head of Soap's cock remained in your mouth so that your tongue could still lap at him while giving you just enough space to fuss with Soap's clothes, an action that has Soap letting out a broken off whimper. A sound which is quickly chased by a slew of what was presumably curses, but was so enwrapped in Soap's accent — now much thicker from how worked up he was and worsened further by his budding frustration from being pent up — that you couldn't make out anything intelligible. Your hands trail lower to fumble with Soap's combat boots, pulling at the knot of the laces until it loosens, and you can ease his feet out of both of them, dropping them behind yourself to be found later. Eventually he seems to pull himself together enough for you to catch a few things, at least. "Yer nae playin' fair, pet. Cannae jus' dae this ta me." He whines rather petulantly.

Just for that, you pull off of him properly, his poor cock twitches where it lays against his abdomen, making an absolute mess of his shirt. To stop him fussing further you wrap your hand around him and lazily pump him, the quiet slick sounds filling the space between you both, as your other hand works on pulling his pants and boxers down the rest of the way, letting them fall in a heap at your knees. Soap's hips twitch up into your movements, as if trying to goad you into moving faster, but you simply use your elbow to press into his hip, keeping him down while you continue to stroke him. "You're so spoiled, you know that? Should just leave your sorry ass like this."

A proper grin pulls at Soap's lips, and he looks down at you through his lashes, with a glint in his eyes that was the pinnacle of pleased— like a puppy that had managed to charm its way into stealing an entire bag of treats. "Aye, ah ken, but ye wouldnae dare. Ye like spoilin' me, luvvy." There's just something about the way he looks above you, his chest heaving and a healthy flush darkening his skin along his cheekbones, while he's blatantly biting his bottom lip and looking at you like you're the only thing in the world worth looking at, that causes something in your chest to ache and twist in a way that shouldn't be as heady as it is.

Instead of dignifying Soap with an actual reply right away, you just grunt softly, vaguely providing him with a, "Maybe." as you hook your arm under one of Soap's knees, guiding it up so that his thigh presses against his stomach; you can feel the muscle jump under your touch. "God knows why I do, you're always such a fucking brat about it." Your protests are contrary, you know they are, especially with the way you're fisting his cock and lazily rolling your hips against the leg Soap still has firmly planted on the ground in a rather fruitless bid to take a bit of your own edge off. You spoil him because it's him, and as much as he can be a prick or a brat sometimes, at the end of the day Soap had still batted his eyes at you, and managed to sidle up to you enough that he found a nice warm place to curl up in your chest like a stray dog in a sunspot. He was a brat, a loud mouth, a bit of a know-it-all even when he wouldn't let on that he was, and he seemed to find a new way to get himself in and out of trouble every day, but god damn it, he was still your stray dog, and like hell were you going to give him anything less than every breath you took, every bit of blood rushing in your veins through your pounding heart, and every bone in your body.

You'd give him everything, because he was yours, and there was no way you'd ever let this ridiculous man forget it.

"Shite..." Soap hisses through his teeth, both his hands move to tangle in the thin sheets laid over the bunk, as the way his hips meet your hand begins to grow sloppier and more uneven. "M' nae a brat." The protest passes Soap's lips weakly, any bite it possibly could have had was dulled even further by the way his cock was practically drooling all over your hand, and the persistent groans and whimpers leaving him.

While you let it drop for now, you most certainly plan on getting him back for back-talking you later. Right now though, you have much more pressing things to pay attention to, like the way he's so visibly close to falling apart under you, his leg was trembling under your hand as his vocalizations got even more unabashed. The way the corner of your mouth lifts as you watch him is entirely involuntary; not that you do much in the way of trying to stop it from happening in the first place, mind. Hearing how Soap keeps murmuring your name doesn't exactly do much but encourage your expression and touches, especially when he practically keens as you take him back into your mouth, even if it's just the head of his cock. You're already pressing your elbow harder against his hip to keep him from lifting them too much and fucking into your mouth mindlessly; you both know that if he wanted to he could knock your arm out of the way, but even with how little blood was left in his brain he behaved and let you keep him down.

That doesn't stop him from wrapping his thick fingers around your wrist, trying to encourage you to pump his shaft faster. "Fuck, c'mon pet. M' so close ta comin', ye gotta let me. Please, please." There's a steadily growing note of desperation to his voice, the hand he still has tangled in the sheets curls tighter, pulling them hard enough that they now lay heavily askew on the bunk. As much as there's a part of you that delights in the idea of pulling back again, leaving him there heavy and aching, you can only be so cruel to him in one night, so you let him guide your hand, squeezing him just a bit tighter, if only to hear the way his voice gets rougher, a stream of words passing his lips mindlessly as he chases his finish, mostly your name intermixed with a healthy dose of 'fuck, please, yes,' and of course a slew of babbled, 'thank ye,'s over and over again.

It doesn't take long for even that to shift into 'God ah'm so close,' and 'oh ah'm gonna come in yer bonnie mouth, pet. Gonna make sure ye taste m'fer days.'

You just squeeze the underside of his knee, not like you can talk around him, besides, you didn't want to waste any extra brainpower trying to formulate intelligible words; not when you could be using it instead to memorize every little way Soap was starting to crumble under you, the muscles in his thighs jumped as his back arched off the mattress, both of his blue eyes glazing over, wide but staring up at the ceiling unseeingly, at least until they flutter closed, your name bullies it's way out of his mouth, followed by a few more curses, and some pure unfiltered praise, as his come fills your mouth in thick spurts that you're quick to swallow down before he makes a mess, or at least, so he doesn't make any more of one than he already has.

Using his hold on your wrist, he guides you unsteadily off your knees, and on top of himself, causing your legs to tangle with his own. While he lets out a soft hiss of oversensitivity when you accidentally brush against him, Soap just winds his arms around your shoulders and pulls you in even closer for a kiss, tasting himself on your tongue with a soft groan. The way he's touching you quickly lost the notable edge of desperation that had been there before, the usual gentleness taking its place. "Yer tae good 'fer me, luvvy." He murmurs, as he brushes your lips together again.

One of your hands finds its way into his mohawk, absently tugging your fingers through the strands in a bid to try to bring some order to the mussed strands, before tangling near his nape and forcing his head back, he grunts, but doesn't fight you. There's something addicting about the way he always just lets you move him about, especially with the way it makes his eyes spark, and had his breath — which had yet to return to normal — quickening once more. You were more than willing to take advantage of him tolerating this while you could. "You're not getting off that easily, MacTavish." You say in as equally as low of a tone. "I'm not done with you yet." After all, you were still worked up and aching yourself, and you well and planned on making that Soap's problem, much like he had with you.

That familiar cheeky grin returns at full force as if you had just offered Soap everything under the tree on Christmas morning. "Aye, didnae think ah'd ferget aboot ye, pet." A shocked gasp passes your lips as he abruptly flips you both over, which causes the bunk to creak in protest under your combined weight on its old springs. Your gasp is quick to turn into a soft huff of amusement as he pins you beneath him and presses close, like he's doing his best to meld you together. "Gonna take such good care o' ye, luvvy." He murmurs as he peppers your face and neck in little fleeting kisses, as if eager to please you and trying his best to love on you everywhere at once.

You can't help the way you laugh at his antics, which somehow only seems to encourage him further as his hands find your hips, dragging you closer. Rolling your eyes fondly, you use your hold on his hair to pull him back in for another kiss.

He might be a brat, and a bit of a stray, but for better or for worse, he's definitely yours.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

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Thank you for reading!

If you have any ideas/prompts of what I should write next, feel free to comment or send me an ask. I’m open to writing more stuff with Soap, or any of the other members of the 141 (either with each other, reader, or a combination of everyone).

I'm so normal about him your honour, I swear

Soap Being Soap

First time drawing anything really for COD— and I’m super happy with how this came out. :] (I made this purely so I can have the boys as my pfp tbh, but shhhh.)

Photos I used for reference under the cut.

Ghost walked with death as his shadow, but Johnny, Johnny, was life itself. To see those eyes sparkle with mischief when pranking Cap and Gaz. Ghost telling just another bad joke just to hear him chucke or scoff at him. And when Johnny sometimes told his own, Ghost could hear the smile in his voice, he would play it back in his head over and over again.

In some ways they were opposites, like yin and yang: loud and silent, theatrical and blunt, but at the same time, they were so alike. Reacting before the other even had to think on a mission, thinking the same thing, having the same plan. Both of them were equally eager to pursue Graves and Shadow Company when they betrayed Task Force 141. To them it was personal, whatever the book said.

And if things got a bit messy on the battlefield, the other was the first to praise their handiwork along with those big eyes of his in Johnny's case. What if Ghost started to choose his knife more often in front of him? Just to see the younger one look at him just like that, like he was a piece of art, painted in blood and dirt. As if Johnny wasn't scared of him, his violence, but appreciative of it, him. That he saw something in the dark depths of the mask of Ghost that was worthwhile.

So what if everytime the sergeant saved him a seat, he took the chance to just sit next to him. To bask in the life that surrounded Johnny "Soap" MacTavish. And maybe, maybe Simon felt a bit more alive then. Just maybe.

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[Hello I'm just getting a feel for the characters and their relation to one another, like planning a fanfic but I'm just really enjoying the planning stage and might not do the actual writing, so enjoy this little thing about Soap (and I) being very appreciative of Ghost's knifework]

little sergeant mactavish doodle

(Yes its a repost)

Sailor Soap (normal style/my style)

141's Princess (Someone is flirting with Kyle?)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Soap can vouche for the following information, as someone that befriended Gaz the moment he laid eyes on him and who knows almost every deep secret.

Kyle Gaz Garrick doesn't know when people are flirting with him.

Soap knows that this is a fact, an historical one at that, because the scott was victim of such condition. It took soap saying directly that he was flriting with Gaz for 1) the man understand the situation 2) for gaz to flirt back. After that, he found out that Gaz is very good at flirting and amazing at dirty talking.

Anyways, it's more like Gaz thinks that people won't flirt with him from the start, like he knows he's not like soap, funny and sociable, he's quieter likes alone time and prefers to be in the background. Gaz became a source of quiet for soap when he needed, a silent support for Price in anxious times, and a sleep partner for Ghost when his insomnia was at it's worse. Gaz was a pillar in their little relationship and someone they treasure any time they can.

No one flirts with Gaz, and so the 141 didn't even phantom that such thing would happen, they were secure - not only because of Gaz lack of flirt detector, but because gaz was their little treasure - that no kind of that action was needed.

On this day, soap was baffled. He was siting next to price in the mess hall, food eaten just waiting for the older man to finish, they were with gaz but the man had something to do so he left early. He looked towards the entrance of the mess, squinted his eyes and-

Was that someone flirting with Gaz?

Soap was the person with the most knowledge of flirting, so he was not mistaken in his hypothesis. No, that was a man ready to use all his cards on the oblivious and polite sergeant that was his Gaz.

"Hey, Cap" Soap nudge the olders arm, making him almost choke on his food, that earned him a glare from Price, but that wasn't important "sorry! But someone is flirting with your baby" Soap said while pointing to the entrance.

"Wha-" Price looked at the entrance and there, lo and behold, a visiting sergeant that price should really know the name but doesn't remember, is standing way too close to his baby (yes, Kyle is always gonna be his baby) with a smirk, dark eyes and hands way too touchy, trying to flirt with Gaz the best he could. However, Gaz was just standing there, hands to himself polite smile that did not reach his eyes "he doesn't even realize that he's flirting with him."

"Cap, please, I told him his ass was a dessert that I wanted to taste and he said thank you, I had to tell him I was trying to flirt with him."

Price shrugs "that settles it. GAZ, COME HERE." Price called out to the sergeant, who politely excused himself from the other man to the table.

"Yes, sir?" Gaz asked sitting on the chair next to the captain, who then pulled him flush against his side.

"I was just saving you from the excessive flirting over there."

Gaz made a confused sound "flirting? Sergeant Williams wasn't flirting with me."

Both Price and Soap blinked once, twice at him, disbelief written all over their faces "aye, Gaz, kitty, you telling me that you think he was being nice out of his own violation and not chasing that ass?"

"Jesus Soap not everyone is as horny as you. And yes he was being nice, he was asking some questions about our training method and how we teach the rookies."

Price raised a brow "and the smirk, lip licking, lidded eyes, hands on your arms didn't give it away?"

"What? Soap was and is like that too! He might have been a very touchy person!"

"Gaz I was trying to get into your pants, and I'm still actively doing that"

Gaz huff and stood "you are being ridiculous! He's just being friendly! Besides he probably wants Soap and not me! Anyways, I have to go, see you on movie night in Price's room."

"We gonna have a movie night?"

"NOW WE WILL!" Gaz answered back already out of the mess hall.

Price and Soap sat there for a while, reliving that interaction that left them hopeless and amazed. Sometimes, it didn't settle on them that Gaz was oblivious to an unreachable level, but when this kind of things happened they realized all over again and celebrate their milestones because how did they snatched such oblvious prick as their boyfriend?

"That was interesting."

"Ye know what's gonna be interesting?" Soap asked, standing from his chair. Price tilted his head in answer and the scott continued "when Ghost sees that dude flirting with Gaz."

Ah. That. They forgot about that.

141's Princess (Someone is flirting with Kyle?)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

There was a spoken rule (yes, very spoken) that none is allowed to flirt with sergeant John Soap Mactavish.

Soap was a lovable person, nominated by popular vote the 141 base sweetheart. He was kind, funny, sociable, easy to talk with, open to everything, helpful and good with the rookies. The 141 always sent Soap to greet newcomers and visiting soldiers because they wanted to spread a positive image, and they always liked Soap the best.

The consequences of being such lovable and social person was the flirting. Soap had at least three cases of flirting per week, either from new rookies or from a visiting sergeant or liutenant or whatever. Soap knew they were flriting he wasn't that oblivious has people deemed him to be. He likes to flirt back to a certain level, but it's fun banter for him, but he also knows when to stop and back down, and also knows when someone starts to be a little obsessed.

However, to those unfortunate souls, the 141 also knows that people flirt with Soap, all the time. But each has their own reactions.

Price lets him be. He has an immense trust in the scott that was earned through life-death situations and many vulnerable moments. He also knows that Soap realizes what he's doing, so Price is confident that Soap will tell him if things get out of hand. That doesn't mean that he won't pull the sergeant closer when that happens.

Gaz acts like a jealous lover in a playful way. He also trusts Soap a lot, he has also seen the way Soap handles this situations and he knows that the scott won't let it go far. But when they are together and that happens (which is most of the times because soap and gaz come in pair) Gaz acts like he's a jealous teenager, pouts and pulls Soap closer until they are in each other's lap.

Now Ghost...that's a whole different story. He's the reason that the spoken rule of not flirting with Soap was established. It's a known fact that Soap is Ghosts favorite in the base, between the 141 Ghost is loving towards all of them but tends to lean towards Soap more and they were okay with it after a long talk. That to say that Ghost has a "Someone is flirting with soap" sensor that tingles when that happens and as fast as he can he's there scaring the shit out of the person. He looms behind soap until the person gets the fuck out. He nominated Soap's guard dog, and one more reason to fear Ghost was added.

There's this spoken rule, but every one still tries their way with soap. But Sergeant Williams, one of the recent visiting sergeants from other base, wasn't looking for sergeant mactavish.

Williams found Soap funny and cute, like every first impression that the sergeant gives. He could see the charm, but wasn't enough to make him chase Soap like most people he saw doing it. No, who he wanted was the dark skin beauty that was quietly smiling behind Soap when they greeted him.

Sergeant Garrick was his name, code name gaz. Yes, he was quiet but cute, all smiles and very polite, in Williams eyes it was his perfect match. Soap was too much for him, but Gaz was just perfect.

Williams approached his liutenant Rogers, who arrived first in the base, in the mess all "So the sergeant-"

"Don't even try it. Sergeant soap is off limits, unless you want to experience Ghost wrath, then go ahead I ain't gonna save you."

"Okay..." damn, Ghost was weird jesus, poor guys that didn't know about this " but I wasn't talking about soap, I was talking about the other sergeant."

"Who? Gaz?" Williams nodded "I don't know...he's quiet, kind and nice. He helps out a lot and teaches well, but not that outstanding like soap."

"So...no weird liutenant at his back chasing people away?"

"No? Wait, you gonna try for him?" Rogers asked curious.

"Yeah! He's exactly my type, and since he doesn't seem to have anyone protecting him like soap, maybe he will accept my advances"

"You can always try, I guess"

Williams was in his lucky day.

Johnny saw a tiktok of a cow costume that was basically a thong and a tiny bra. Send it to Kyle just for the funsies, but the other sergeant just answers

"I like that actually, would wear it"

And so Johnny, first and foremost, spirals and jerk off to the though of Kyle's dark skin in a tiny cow costume with his ass in a thong, talking how Johnny would eat that chocolate cake-

Secondly, he created a plan.

He went into one of those weird websites that have weird fetish costumes, and order three cow costumes that were rhe exactly replica of the one he saw on tiktok.

Then he shared his plan with Kyle, who agreed and was on board with it. Kyle was essential for this plan because he was Johnny's secret weapon.

Then he went looking for Simon, the hardest piece to achieve. He showed the Liutenant the plan and tried his best to convince him to join him. That one took a while, while meant two weeks of begging and one week of rookie babysitting instead of Simon, and the blond was on board.

The plan was:

1. Aquire the cow costume for three people. Check

2. Convince his other two boyfriends to wear those costumes. Check

3. Share the mastermind plan. Check

4. Choose a good day where Price would be spending his day out. Check (altho that one was hard)

5. Convince price that give them the key to his office (Kyle did that one). Check

6. Infiltrate price office and wear the costumes. Check (Simon kept grumbling and refused to take off the mask until Kyle made him puppy eyes)

7. Call price to his office. Check

8. It's showtime!(Johnny stop that!)

Price when he saw them all standing there wearing the costumes was...not what Johnny expected. What the scott though was that price would either yell at them, laugh at them or sigh and leave them behind.

He did not expect the man to close the door, lock it, all while using one hand to unbuckle his belt with a face that prosimed one week of barely able being sat.

"Simon, kneel." The reaction was instant, the blond kneeled with his head down. "Kyle, kneel." Same with him too. The only one standing was Johnny, who gulped as Price approached him with a dark look. "I reckon it was your idea, Johnny."

"Y-yes, s-sir."

Price hummed, eyes racking over the scott "I'm trying to figure out if I should use you first or leave you for last" price hand laid on Johnny peck and squeezed, pulling a whimper from the younger "Depends on how pretty you beg."

Johnny dropped down to his knees, eyes already watered, lips in a pout and face close to the others crotch, looking up with his most pitful face "p-please, d-daddy."

"Good boy."

I like to think that Gaz uses Soap to get stuff he wants. Don't get him wrong, he knows if he bats his eyelashes and pouts a bit he will get a free pass for almost anything (it works better with Price) but it takes a while for that to happen.

But with Soap? The man has natural puppy eyes ans cute face, plus those blue eyes put anyone under a spell. Soap just needs to pout and look like a kicked puppy to get a free pass for anything.

And Gaz is not jealous, no he's not, because that means he can use soap for whatever he wants because soap is weak for Gaz and his pretty and Gaz always brings rewards for Soap. It's a win win situation.

"You do know that Gaz uses you for free stuff?" Ghost had questioned soap one day while they were cuddling on the lieutenant bed.

"Pfft, of course Ah do! What do ye take me for, an idiot?"

"Sometimes."

"Hey!" Soap hits half heartedly Ghosts chest next to where he's laying on "but I do know I always get something out of it anyways. Besides I like to see him pout to get me to do it."

"Both of you are hopeless."

Ghost started to noticed the new choice of Soap underwear, that being tongs and panties. Not that he's complaining, he's actually very grateful for whoever influenced his scott. The boxers were great but having full access with no barriers is even better.

But Ghost was curious, who gave soap the idea? It was going to be difficult to find because soap was a social butterfly and made friends with anyone.

"Soap has been wearing a different kind of underwear." Ghost commented with Price one afternoon in the captains office.

"Hmm I have noticed."

"Aren't you surprised?"

Price shook his head, not looking up from his reports "Kyle as been wearing since he was young, says they comfy and cute at the same time."

Why didn't he think of Kyle? Soap and Gaz were attached to the hip, best friends and probably more from the way Soap talks about the brit (not that Ghost mind, he actually likes hearing about gaz) of course the biggest source of influence would be Kyle.

Ghost waited until he knew that Kyle and Johnny were in the Scott's room to pay a visit. It was one of their "bestie nights" so Ghost knew they would be together at this hour. He knocked once, a distinctive knock that warned Soap that it was Ghost. He heard the accented "come in" and entered the room.

And yes his hunch was right. There stood Soap in front of the mirror wearing some black tong that left absolutely nothing covered and Kyle was by his side with a tong too, but his was bright res contrasting with his black skin, looking pensive at Soap.

"Maybe black is too much?"

"Hmm, Ah like it."

Kyle turned towards Ghost "what do you think?"

"Yeah, wanna stay and help us out?"

And well, Ghost is only a man.

yeah poly 141...but I don't see gaz in it???

Royal guard

Note: I got the idea from a prompt on Pinterest

Ghoap but Soap is a energetic, bored prince and Ghost his stoic, quiet body guard

Soap huffed and rolled his eyes, looking at Ghost in his stupidly body shape enhancing armour. „Would it kill you to relax?“, he teased, knowing Ghost would either not say anything or give a short answer to make him shut up.

„Probably“, Ghost replied, eyes still trained on the wall in front of him. „Likely it would kill you too, that’s rather the point“. Soap let out a groan. „Why do you always act like you got a stick up your arse?“ Silence. „It’s my job to protect you. Not entertain you“. „Why not both? You definitely look like you could be….fun“, Soap shamelessly flirted.

Ghost visibly tensed up at his comment. „Oh, stop clutching your pearls, Ghost.“ He grins. „I‘d know a way or two how I could get you to relax“

Ghost cleared his throat. "This is highly inappropiate" Soap strolled towards Ghost, who stood there as still as a statue. "Oh come on, relax a bit", he grinned. He held out his hand. "Dance with me"

Ghost looked at him with a uncertain expression, but didn't take his hand or made any movement in general.

Soap rolled his eyes and took Ghosts hand in his.

"Now, do you really want to disobey the princes orders, guard?"

Alive / Part XII

Trigger warnings: Explicit sexual content in the form of a handjob. (I pray that my parents will never find my blog, Annie, ich weiß, dass du das hier lesen wirst. Kein. Einziges. Wort. Sonst werf ich dich ausm Fenster. Das gilt auch für dich, Milena. :)) Notes: This is my first ever attempt at smut, so sorry if it's awkward to read. I also have no idea how to conjugate "Lay", so sorry to all the English majors out there. Word count: 668

They stayed on that hill for hours. Barely talking, just looking at the sky and sea in silence, enjoying the moment together.

The sun started to set, the sky painted in a deep gold, the sunrays making the scene look etheral, like sunlight pouring out of a hundred broken urns.

When they got home, the house was still empty (Molly knew they'd need some time to get it going, so she made sure they'd have their peace)

"I'm gonna take a shower", Ghost announced. Soap plopped down on the bed. "Have fun"

Ten minutes later, Ghost stepped out the bathroom, blond locks wet, his bare torso bathed in the golden sunlight, a towel slung over his hips. "Looking good, lt", Soap smirked. Ghost grumbled and sat down on the bed. "Shut it" He lay down next to Soap, the towel dangerously low on his hips. Soap peered down. He was unsure, but he really wanted to. "Can I?", he asked quietly. Ghost swallowed, then nodded. Very, very slowly and gently Soap pulled away the towel, eyes fixed on Ghosts cock. "Not bad, lt". It was already half hard. He looked at Ghost again, checking for any sign of discomfort. He didn't find any, his eyes half lidded and it seemed like he was holding his breath. With a featherlight touch Soap ran his fingertips over it, cataloging every ridge and vein. Ghost let out a shuddering breath. "That sensitive, huh?", Soap teased. Ghost just nodded. "Please, stop teasing me", he whispered. Soap raised an eyebrow. "Yes sir" Soap leaned over the bed, grabbing a small bottle of lube from the nightstand, squirting a bit on his hand before wrapping it around Ghosts cock. He really was sensitive, letting out a small gasp at the sensation. Soap took this as a sign to take up the pace, tightening his hand and rubbing his thumb over the red tip. "Does it feel good?", he looked at Ghost whose eyes were fixed on Soaps hand around his cock, biting his lower lip to supress the sounds threatening to escape him. "Simon?", he asked again. Ghost nodded, eyes lidded. Soap chuckled. "Usually I'd have you say it loud, but I'm gonna let it slide". He continued at the same pace for a few minutes, letting Ghost get used to the sensation. He seemed to enjoy it quite a lot. A grin spread on his face as Ghosts subconsciously thrust his hips upwards, and he sped up and tightened his hand, drawing a small gasp from him. He gripped he sheets, his knuckles white. "Wanna hold my hand?", Soap asked, to which Ghost only nodded, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. His breathing got more erratic, and Soap could feel his cock twitch in his hand. "You're gonna come, Simon?", Soap cooed. "Y-yes", Ghost gasped. "Go on then", he whispered. Ghost let out a strangled whimper, squeezing Soaps hand tightly, white ropes soaking Soaps hand. His thighs trembled and he was breathing as if he'd run a marathon. Soap pressed a kiss on Ghosts forehead, getting up to get a wash cloth. Gently and carefully he wiped his body down. "Thank you", Ghost whispered. Soap grinned. "Did you like it?" Ghost nodded. "Then I guess it's a job well done, no need to thank me" He smiled. "I'm gonna shower" "Wait!", Ghost said, slowly getting up. "Give me a second, and I'll return the favour", he mumbled, hands shaking slightly as he reached for Soaps pants. "No no no, Simon, stop", Soap grabbed his hands. "There is no favour to return, you don't owe me anything", he looked Ghost in the eyes. "I want you to know that. I love you. You don't owe me. I choose to make you feel good. It's not a debt. We're not in a rush. We can take as much time as you want and need." Ghost nodded and sat back down on the bed. Soap smiled.

"Sleep a bit. I'll be there when you wake up"

Notes: Sorry that it took so long, I had to stop various times to stop cringing. It's also quite awkward writing this stuff in class. Anyway, I'm omw to bathe in holy water.

So I did a redesign for Soap.

This is his original design.

This is his redesign!

Personally I love this design more as I feel it matches his character in the games better, but I'll let ya'll decide that so let me know whatcha think!

Ghost

Soap

Their daughter Crow

Cuddling with Soap❤️

Fluff and a drabble

Soap x GN!Reader

God he would be yapping the whole time as he held you close to his chest. Every moment or two he’d shift or change positions not feeling comfortable enough or wanting to be closer to you. His big smile would constantly be in your face or in your ear spouting about whatever comes to mind. Whether it is how beautiful you are or how Ghost was a bastard for making him run laps around the track.

His hands would always be wandering around your skin resting your hips, chest, or neck. Its not for any sexual reason despite Johnny being a dog its a reminder that your alive. Your warm skin and your heart beat calms his racing mind knowing you’re here with him.

If he does fall asleep before you and tucks your head under his chin holding you tightly. He wraps his legs around yours resting his arms around your chest. Whenever you shift or try to get up he just holds you tight muttering something unintelligible before relaxing again.

If you falls asleep first Johnny lays your head on a pillow. He lays next to you watching your blissfully calm face, your chest rising and falling with each breath. He admires you for minutes to hours, he never keeps track of time. These are the moments he cherishes when hes in some far away place away from you. Whether it be in some ramshackle building or in the forest these memories keep him warm at night.