Washing Ghost
(Closed, Unmoderated, Unrevealed, Anonymous)
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Summary
He didn't remember much of his mom, her life fading as steadily as his memory developed. He remembered her dirty blonde hair, her sunken blue eyes, and the way she whispered softly to him: Watch out for the ones who smile.
or: ghost follows advice from a corpse
Series
- Part 1 of cod ramblings and such
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- Words:
- 143,459
- Works:
- 5
- Bookmarks:
- 114
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Summary
“Unclench your fist,” Price commented drily. “They’re prostitutes, not terrorists.”
Tell that to his racing pulse, Ghost thought. To the low thrums of adrenaline that pulsed through him. Didn't know how he had gotten talked into tonight, but also wasn't quite sure how to back out now.
Or
Ghost was expecting someplace seedier, someplace where he would never remember the faceless, nameless person he tumbled into bed with. Wasn't prepared to be faced with Soap, the charming sex worker that saw him in ways that made his stomach twist uncomfortably.
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to you i can admit (that i’m too soft for all of it) by furiosophie
Fandoms: Call of Duty (Video Games)
21 Jan 2024
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Summary
"Kids?" Soap asks, curving his fingers into a silent okay to Ghost without thinking. "Plural?"
"Yes. A boy and a girl. Little Joseph was born a couple of months ago, according to the records."
"Oh," is all Soap says because oh. He has a nephew. A little baby nephew. And then, because that is apparently not enough of a revelation, the doctor says:
"You are listed as their legal guardian, Mr. MacTavish. We need you to pick them up."
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Summary
Instead of moving away, Soap shifted from Ghost’s side to kneel between his spread legs and moved both his hands to rest across the Lieutenant’s chest, eyes fixed on the ugly, pink damage that rested over Ghost’s heart.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Sargent?” Ghost ordered, trying to bring back something solid and familiar to the situation before he gave in to the new and uncertain terrain.
Soap hummed, unperturbed by the warning, and traced the outline of Ghost’s scars to the centre of his chest. “I’m just looking, sir.”
“You’re doing a lot more than that,” Ghost pointed out sternly.
The Sargent smirked and met his gaze, “you’re not telling me to stop.”