Thirimi
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John is all bare skin and brimming heat against him, pressed flush and unapologetic. His fingers curl back, gripping Simon’s thigh, nails digging in just enough to leave a mark against the soaked denim. A fucking mark, a claim that makes Simon's head spin. "The fuck are you doing, MacTavish?" Simon grits, voice rough, frayed at the seams.
The man hums, a slow, deliberate roll of his hips that sends a sharp bolt of pleasure down the length of Simon's spine. His breath stutters, a jagged inhale at the pressure against his cock.
"The fuck does it look like, Lieutenant?"
"Brat," Simon hisses, fingers curling into the man's damp mohawk, a swift tug as he pulls John's head back toward his chest, those blue eyes clouded with a wicked intent.
"Yeah?" His voice is rough, teasing, Simon’s grip bruising tight on his waist. "And what the fuck are you going to do about it?"
Bookmarked by Thirimi
15 May 2026
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And in that pulse of light John sees him.
A man wearing a dark hood stands at the end of the hallway, massive and hulking, larger than any human should be. His shoulders rise and fall, slow and steady and John knows whoever this man is — he’s no soldier. There’s an underlying motion to him, a twitch that has John reaching for the pistol that he doesn’t have, warning bells going off in his mind.
The light sputters once more, and the figure is shifting, the slightest incline of his head as if he’s just realized John was behind him. But something is — different, the light seeming to catch on more than one shape at once.
“Identify your —” but words fail him as the figure turns further, John able to get a peek of what lies beneath the hood, the harsh light catching on the edge of a white skull mask. Haunting and familiar and John feels his breath catch sharp in his chest.
“Simon.”
Bookmarked by Thirimi
11 May 2026
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“What I’m saying, ya eejit, is we should play pretend so we can see what yer doing wrong! I play a hot Scottish lass at the bar and you play as yerself! Try to woo me into yer bed,” Soap said, batting his eyelashes at him, grinning in an extremely self-satisfied manner.
“Woo you into bed, Johnny? Are you also playing as a slag or do you actually put out on the first date?” Ghost tried to tease and hoped it would get Soap to continue to talk about his own love life instead of focusing on Ghost’s.
AKA Soap thinks Ghost isn't getting laid so he decides to help him out by trying to teach him his lady killer ways. Ghost plays along despite ladies not being the thing he's interested in.
Bookmarked by Thirimi
29 Dec 2025
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Ghost closed his eyes, taking another sip from his drink before there was a sudden presence to his right. In an instant, the incubus felt his body tingle pleasantly, that undeniable pull making itself known.
Good things come to those who wait, it seemed.
“Haven’t seen someone as handsome as you ‘round here in a long, long time.” A low, Scottish voice purred. Ghost opened his eyes to meet a pair of dazzling blue ones, framed by a low brow and accompanied with a wicked smile.
The man was attractive. Strong jaw adorned with stubble, thin lips, round nose, and that stupid looking mohawk that somehow still worked for him. Ghost couldn’t afford to let this catch slip through his fingers tonight.
“Could say the same for you.” He murmured in response, swirling what remained of his drink in his glass.
“I go by Soap. You are?” The man offered a hand, looking up with a glint in his eye.
“Ghost.” He clasped a firm hand, only touching for a moment before withdrawing.
“Ghost,” Soap echoed, letting the name roll around his tongue, “Well, Ghost, can I buy you another drink?”
“Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart.”
Bookmarked by Thirimi
06 Nov 2025
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Summary
Simon had a big dick. Sure it sounded nice, in theory, since everyone seemed to like the idea of a big dick, but he didn’t know if Johnny could take it.
Series
- Part 8 of The Soap/Ghost PWP Series
Bookmarked by Thirimi
23 Jun 2025