#I've never felt dysphoria like it before it's genuinely suffocating

[s4pphic-sh3nan1gans]

why do I feel so off lately and why is a fuck ton of dysphoria hitting me out of nowhere ajshsjshs I don't even know what it is but I just feel so awful and don't even recognise myself, I just want to tear my skin off cos everything feels wrong :(

[solivagantingrebel]

Trans Soap, nsfw, bottom dysphoria + Ghost distracting and affirming him through it.

smut. oral sex. anal fingering. minor praise kink. 1.9k.

Soap had got better at talking when things got rough for him. It was for his own sake, of course, but also for Ghost's. His tendency to shut down until his feelings passed did not work in the context of their relationship.

Soap didn't want to lose Ghost, so he had to suck it and speak of things he would've never verbally acknowledged. He never opened up easily, but he tried his best.

At least, his attempt to burn off the pent-up anger by cornering Ghost and kissing him did not work out as well as he would've liked. Ghost saw through his distress from the start — tried to ask Soap about it before he jumped on him and his Lieutenant, his perfect, dangerous Lieutenant, responded in kind, with the right amount of heat and passion, a reminder that Ghost liked him for who he was, in all of his crass, bearded, hairy, undeniably masculine self.

Ghost had not shown any discernible reaction when he realised Soap was going stealth in the military. When he asked later, he shrugged and said it didn't change what he felt in the slightest, Soap was always Johnny to him. Always someone meant to be his. It reassured him back then, and it reassured him whenever he felt wrong.

But, as romantic as Ghost's declaration was, his emotions were a beast of their own. Ignorant to logic, dismissive of his understanding. Ghost knew him well enough to recognise it. He also knew him well enough to take him by surprise and flip their positions, cornering him firmly with thick muscles and firm intent. Soap was ready for a fight, but his anger smothered at the genuine concern overflowing in Ghost's soft brown eyes. He could never stay mad at him and Ghost knew it.

Soap wasn't going to be able to get away from saying it. They'd talked about this before. Talked about what helped, and Soap was sure it would not help.

"Johnny?"

Soap nodded.

"Tell me what you need, love."

"I don't know—" Soap stopped himself, because there was a way to make him forget. But, he wasn't sure if it'd be enough.

"Then tell me if you want me to stop."

It was Ghost's way of saying he was going to try something new. Soap was ready for it, mostly. Ghost's ideas were always creative enough for a man who spent all of his time in that spooky mask that he made by himself.

Soap was usually into it, and his masks, so it was easy to trust him. He'd managed to get Soap to think about him instead of the destructive, suffocating feelings clouding his judgement, which was always a plus.

It helped that Ghost nosed his way down his body, placing open-mouth kisses down his chest, shoving his t-shirt upwards to kiss the hair on his skin directly. He made a show of it, taking a deep breath, tongue flickering out to taste Soap, eyes so lidded and taken it was devastating.

Ghost sank his teeth around his waistband, showing off his fucking canines, and the sight alone made Soap slump back against the wall, his chest heaving as Ghost committed to undressing him like that. He took the fabric in his mouth and tugged it down with his teeth alone.

"Fuckin' hell."

Ghost had captured his attention enough to make him forget about why he was there, and with his mouth hovering dangerously close to his pants, it was impossible to deny what Soap lacked. Fuck. Even with the dark, drunken look in his Lieutenant's eyes, he couldn't, it was, he wasn't —

"Easy, Johnny. Been a while since I've had a mouth around your cock."

Soap jolted like he was shot.

What. What the fuck did he mean?

The 'he' in question did not explain further, kissing the trail of hair running down Soap's stomach, following it towards the line of his boxers.

Ghost repeated the same motions with his pants, pulling it down with his teeth, but instead of shoving it completely out of the way, he stopped midway, tucking the waistband right underneath Soap's cock.

Ghost readjusted his stance, sliding down until he was fully kneeling, his eyes fixed on Soap's face. It was hard to describe what he felt. On one hand, Soap was happy with his bottom growth, it had grown more than he expected. He was hard, obviously stimulated by what Ghost was offering. But on the other hand —

"Eyes on me, Johnny." Ghost eased his palms up and down Soap's thighs, stopping at the arc of his hips. "You're thinkin' too loud."

He was right. But, there was some merit in looking at Ghost, he was too fucking pretty kneeling in front of him, pale face slightly red, the evidence of Soap roughly pulling his mask out of his face present in how messy his hair was, loose curls overlapped over each other and sticking out slightly, like they rolled out of bed instead of what Soap had actually done.

He gave into the urge to run his fingers through Ghost's hair, enjoying how the softness tickled his palms.

"Good boy," Ghost rumbled, his breath hot on Soap's prick.

Fuck.

"Need you to focus on me and only me," Ghost continued, a hint of possessiveness rolling through his low voice. "Can you do that for me?"

It wasn't an order, but —

"Yes, sir."

Approval flashed through Ghost's eyes. It shouldn't have made his cock twitch, or drip, but it did. He was gone for Ghost, he knew that for sure.

"Being so good for me," Ghost purred, his lips were centimetres away from the tip of his cock. "Is it because I'm letting you fuck my mouth?"

"Christ." Soap shuddered, the image so stark in his mind, it nearly blinded him from his reality. He savoured it for a few seconds, the thought of Ghost's mouth stretched around his cock, taking him in slow and steady, his slick, hot tongue ready for him.

His awareness snapped into focus when he felt something thick and hot press over his prick, blinking slowly as he took in the sight of Ghost's languid amusement as he lapped away at his cock, licking away the mess and adding his own to the bunch.

Soap tightened his hold on Ghost's hair, unable to stop himself from grinding his prick on Ghost's tongue, and much to his surprise, Ghost let him. He simply sat there, kneeling, looking up at him from underneath his pretty blond lashes. He twisted his tongue over the tip, lapping him in a long, clever stripe, and Soap lost it.

His hips bucked, his spine curved forward, thighs shaking slightly from the flood of sensations before Ghost doubled his efforts, closing his mouth over his entire cock, sucking him inside. Bleeding Christ. Ghost had meant it when he said he wanted to get his prick in his mouth, he was focusing fully on it and nothing else, bringing him blindly close to his orgasm.

He was wet, but with Ghost pressed to his crotch like a man starved, it was hard to differentiate between the sensations. He just felt good. Close. And Ghost wasn't fucking stopping, his hands slipped down the small of Soap's back to his arse.

He kneaded the cheeks, digging his nails in the fat, slowly spreading him apart. His fingers prodded Soap's rim as he toyed with his prick in his mouth, nose pressed to the hair at the base, the prettiest of blush dusting under his eyes, staring up at him like Soap was more precious than anything in the world.

In that split second of realisation, Soap knew why being with Simon was so easy. Ghost never made him feel less, unwanted or different, his hands and mouth were laced with unspoken reverence, his eyes overflowing with unending devotion.

Here he was just Soap. John MacTavish. He was with his lover, partner, a man who loved him as much as he loved telling him how much he liked it when Soap was good. The pressure on his sensitive cock eased slightly as a gloved finger gently breached him, the fabric slick from their earlier makeout session.

"Good boy," Ghost praised, and Soap groaned, throwing his head back as more of his finger slipped inside, pressing and pushing, searching for something.

"Ghost, what are ye —"

He didn't get to properly ask, because Ghost thrust his finger in to the hilt, curling at the tip before latching onto his cock tightly. The jolt of pleasure that went through his body blinded him, like Ghost hit something deep in him, and it wasn't possible, yet —

"Simon," he gritted through his teeth as his orgasm wrecked him, he was leaking all over Ghost's face, inside his mouth and outside, and Ghost fucked him through it, sucking his prick and thrusting his finger lazily, like it was more than enough, and it was.

The cocky bastard did it. Soap couldn't think beyond his sly, sinful mouth and the tight suction over him, milking him for all he was worth. Holy fuck. At some point, he must've slumped down against the wall, because Ghost was looming over him again, holding him close.

"Made a mess on me, Johnny." Simon's voice sounded hoarse, like his throat was thoroughly used. Fucked. Soap could imagine it clearly too, and his rough hair, slick mouth and reddened face added to the image perfectly. "Better?"

"Fuckin' hell, ye madman," Soap murmured. "Were you plannin' to suck my soul out of my cock?"

"Gonna take that as yes."

Simon "walking sin" Riley smirked at him, dark eyes gleaming with a strange hint of mischief. Soap tried to look away because it was doing things to him again, but a slick hand on his chin forced him to look back.

"Fat prick, fat arse. You got it all, Johnny. Couldn't help myself."

Soap groaned, squirming in faux-discomfort because there was no hiding the very obvious blush on his own face. He felt hot, and he knew Ghost would see it.

His slight movements were enough to grind into Ghost, his pelvis pushing into Soap's stomach. They both froze. In the midst of everything, Soap had almost forgotten they did nothing to solve Ghost's problem. The one he very much contributed in creating —

"Simon —"

"It's fine." Ghost eased his hold on him. "Haven't prepared you enough to take me."

Soap blinked. "What do you even —"

"Your arse, Johnny. Don't want you limping around base because you'd do it without proper prep."

Soap opened his mouth, and then closed it — he was right. They couldn't, and he wasn't ready for more, or for a reminder, quite yet. He was there to forget he had a problem in the first place.

"Next time," Soap promised, and Ghost smiled at him, as if he knew Soap would get on the same pace as him.

"You can return the favour then." Ghost dipped his head down, kissing the side of his neck before he reached his ear. "You'll let me suck you off, won't you, sweet boy?"

Soap nodded quickly, not willing to disappoint.

"Good lad," he praised in that same low and hoarse tone from earlier, gripping his chin and pulling him to his mouth, making Soap taste his own come on Ghost's tongue. The thought of Ghost sucking him off while his mouth was wrapped around Ghost's cock was going to follow him until they wrangled some time to properly indulge.

They were fixing, and probably creating, each other's problems. That was for sure.