Elba



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    John tucks his nose into the crook of Simon’s neck, cold against the fabric of his mask, and Simon can only hold him tighter, letting his own scent wash away every trace of the other alpha.

    “Johnny.”

    The name comes unbidden to his lips, Simon able to feel the shiver that wracks Soap’s body, the goosebumps that prickle his skin. John’s fingers tighten in his shirt, warm breath against the cloth at Simon’s neck. He’s so close, the scent of him soothing over Simon’s own skin like a balm to the ache that lives buried deep inside of him.

    He knows he should say something, do something, but he’s frozen, rooted to the spot.

    Johnny is his best friend. His best fucking friend in the entire world and while he knows the man won’t speak on what happened tonight, Simon is offering whatever comfort he can.

    But maybe it’s not his to offer. Maybe the reason Johnny went out tonight is because he’s looking for something.

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    19 Jun 2026

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    Troy crouches down, the cold of the ice sinking into his pants as he hovers uselessly above Shane.

    “Shane?” He says quietly, “Shane, can you hear me?”

    There’s a glazed, dazed look to his eyes, unfocused as they dart around, and Troy panics.

    “Ilya!” He shouts at the Alpha. “Shane, Rozanov.”

    Troy knows that Shane is perfectly capable of handling the sexist chirps and overeager body slams, but when the opposition takes it too far, Ilya proves exactly why you don’t mess with his Omega.

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    13 Jun 2026

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    In theory, it’s an easy plan of action: Soap heals with Ghost by his side and life goes back to the way it was before. Effortless and efficient, just like how they’ve always handled tough missions.

    But with a newly broken brain, pent-up feelings, and a possible medical discharge looming on the horizon, everything is often easier said than done.

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    05 Jun 2026

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    Ghost and Soap take their time moving too fast, and Ghost learns to accept what he already knows. Fifteen thousand words of domestic porn.

    (Part Two of the Familiar series, which starts with Familiar as a Bottle and a Glass)

     

    Ghost was helpless against his own smile. His hands itched to grab at Soap, itched to pull him in, he wanted to bury his face in the crook of Soap’s neck and breathe in all the deep, sleep-warm scents of him, wanted to throw him up against the wall, wanted to rip him apart from the inside out, find a place in his body and make a home there, break him into a million pieces and patch him back together using himself as the glue.

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    02 Jun 2026

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    It's Soap’s fault, really. He’d set off the alarms and fucked it up, and it made the mission a million times more difficult than it should be. It had been an in-and-out mission, no engagement with hostilities supposedly.

    Yet here they are, Soap bleeding out while running away, and Ghost ahead of him muttering curses under his breath. There’s a promise of a very long debriefing after this. Soap knows both from first and third hand experience.

    Soap knows that he’s fucked, either way, whether or not there is an after in this.

    “This feels familiar.” Soap comments,

    “Las Almas.” Ghost says, and Soap could only hum to show his amusement.

    And oh boy, if only Ghost knows just how similar Las Almas is to his current predicament.

    .

    OR soap gets injured and thinks that hiding said injury is a good idea.
    Written for TWB MCC Sands of Time Remix prompt: Role Reversal

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    26 May 2026