annundir
Recent bookmarks
-
Tags
Summary
"Close now. Remember the rules?" Ghost talks loud to be heard, but his voice rumbles low and deeper through him than the engines and their repetitive noise, an edge there that Soap can’t put his finger on, reminiscent of how he sounds when Price tightens their leash.
"There are no rules," he echoes their earlier conversation, but relents as Ghost narrows his eyes. "Forty-eight hours. I'm late, I fail. I'm caught, I fail. I die to some random animal attack or 'cause I break my ankle, I fail and ye won't come find me. That about it?"
Soap has some things to work out. Ghost is happy to help.
Neither is prepared for just how far they'll go. -
Tags
Summary
Hunger is something Ghost was intimately familiar with. The weakening, cramping, debilitating pangs of agony. The bitter burn of stomach acid creeping up his throat in search of sustenance.
This hunger was foreign, the biting, all consuming desire stuffing him full, until he’s fit to burst and he’s still not fed. Hunger in the way of saliva wetting his mask as he watches Soap’s grey tee cling and darken with his sweat. Losing count of his reps because the omega had decided just then to practice his downward dog form.
Hunger, so severe and absolute that he fears Soap will be able to feel a physical manifestation of it. The grave weight of his want.
or, Alpha Ghost thinks he has it all, until Omega Soap joins the taskforce and throws his world on its axis.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 27,231
- Chapters:
- 3/3
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 124
- Kudos:
- 1,409
- Bookmarks:
- 360
- Hits:
- 27,955
Bookmarked by annundir
08 Nov 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
“Your trigger finger in my mouth, my love.”
iM FUCKIGN LOSING IT?????? leave me where i lie
-
Tags
Summary
“C’mon.” Soap’s eyes are glued to the crotch of Ghost’s cargoes, his Scottish brogue lowering into something suggestive, “We can fix each other’s problems.”
“You’re my problem” Ghost retorts, and Soap’s fingers yank him closer.
Or, Soap takes a pistol to the face and Ghost helps him drain the wound.
-
Tags
Summary
Ghost invites Soap to his Manchester flat while they’re both on leave.
-
Tags
Summary
Ghost lets himself be pulled up slightly, his hand just as steady on Soap's thigh. "That what you need, Johnny?" he asks, licking his lips behind the balaclava. Soap’s eyes drop to his mouth, flick back up. "You wanna draw blood? Be in control?"
"Lt–" Soap starts, lips parted on a rough exhale. A plea or a warning, Ghost can't tell. He's too focused on the way Soap's pupils dilate, and the way the edge of the knife digs into the fabric at his throat.
---
When Graves rears his head not ten days after Las Almas Ghost starts questioning Soap's loyalty, and with it whatever's left of his own sanity.