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“Oh my god.” His face is contorted in horror. “What the fuck, Tord?”
“‘What the fuck’ me?” Tord manages, voice a bit strained. “You just tried to kill me!”
“You’re fucking hard!”
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Physical fights aren't new to Tom and Tord. Getting turned on during them definitely is.
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The maiming of the kill comes naturally, as easy as taking a breath with Ghost congratulating him on a job well done. The scraps of praise, the hints of veiled approval in Ghost’s voice has the knife of Soap’s longing twisting deeper each time. Soap has to catch himself from immediately seeking out Ghost’s eye the moment a body he slices slumps to the ground. From extending a hand out to touch, like a dog waiting for its master to give a pat on the head. But in the quiet of the night, Soap is uncontrollably restless.
Soap wants him. Desperately.
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“Do ye have feelin’ in them?” Soap asks curiously.
Yes, Ghost wants to say. He has so much feeling in them. They’re a part of his body, even if he wasn’t born with them on his head. Yes, he wants to say, because you’re touching them with your gentle fingers and it’s making me fucking crazy! You have no idea.
“No,” he says instead, his voice tight.
Or, Ghost has horns and Soap likes to touch them.
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Leaving a Mark by startingatmidnight
Fandoms: Project Hail Mary - Andy Weir, Project Hail Mary (2026), Andy Weir's Project Hail Mary - All Media Types
31 Mar 2026
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Ryland has a tattoo. So does Rocky. It's not the same thing, but it also really is.
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High on the spirit and drunk on fumes by storm_petrel
Fandoms: Call of Duty (Video Games)
04 Mar 2025
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This isn't his knife, it's Ghost's. Molded grip, modified tanto blade, S.R. carved deep into the butt.
If he makes it out of this alive, he's going to have to beg forgiveness for somehow mixing Ghost's knives in with his own gear. Possibly he's gonna have to go to confession because this feels like one of the bad sins.
Or, a mission goes awry, and now Soap's got to deal with hostile terrain, a hit squad of cartel sicarios on his tail and Ghost's voice on his busted radio. Honestly, it's the last thing that probably fucks him up the most.
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“Fuckin’ hell, Johnny.” Ghost was standing in the middle of the carnage, covered in blood like a fallen angel.
Thank God.
Johnny’s grip loosened on his rifle, dropping the muzzle forwards. Ghost was on him in a second, only needing to take a single stride to get to Soap and tuck an arm around Soap’s waist, tugging the weapon from his hand.
Soap could feel his heart beat in his left arm- hanging limply at his side, blood dripping off his fingers. “Nah, still on earth last I checked.”
He had hoped Ghost would at least chuckle, but the man did not seem to find anything funny about this for some reason. -
A collection of GhostxSoap stand alones by WhisperedWords12
Fandom Call of Duty (Video Games)
05 Aug 2023
Summary
A collection of SoapsxGhost one shots, where the plot's made up and the context won't matter. Nothing is connected, each one is a stand alone.
- Words:
- 41,060
- Works:
- 12
- Bookmarks:
- 290
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"If you keep going I'm gonna cum."
"I— I kinda wanna keep going. Can I keep going?" -
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When Ghost looks up, he finds that Soap's eyes are on him. The next words out of the Scotsman's mouth catch him so off guard that time seems to stop for a moment.
"Will you marry me?"
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When Soap is injured in the field, he makes Ghost a proposal. Ghost humours him, if only to keep his mind off his bleeding for a while.
It's not like anything will come of it, of course. -
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Ghost learns one day that Soap has a social media account dedicated to posting suggestive images of himself and sets on a mission to find it. Soon after he does, Soap starts to post videos of himself having fun and Ghost's self control erodes until he snaps.
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Soap has been acting strange ever since a visiting task force arrived at base.
Ghost intends to find out what's causing it, and fix it.
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Soap thinks about getting his hands on Ghost just about every minute of the day.
He might be a little unprepared for when it finally happens.
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“Who’d say no to that?” Soap said, softer now, the grin easing into something more intentional. “Come on, LT.”
His thumb shifted slightly under Ghost’s grip, not pulling away.
“I felt it,” he added quietly. “This—between us.”
Another second.
“We can have it.”
Soap exhaled slowly, hovering close.
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A beat. The line goes completely quiet for a moment. “Repeat that, Serg?”
Soap groans lowly, pained. “Ne’ver got out from.. under ta buildin’. I don't know which side ‘am on.”
Dead silence. He can't even hear them breathing. Soap panics, managing a small, embarrassingly, childishly afraid sounding, “Cap’n? Lt? Gaz—can ye ‘ear me—”
“You’re still in the building that collapsed?”
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Ghost and Soap spar alone in the gym one night (gone sexual)
Series
- Part 5 of hex's twitter threads
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Soap's standing in the hall, alone, arms wrapped around himself like he’s cold. Ghost's words are ringing in his ears like tinnitus.
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“You know, sir, if you mix them, you can get an extra side fit in.”
It takes a beat for Ghost to realize this comment was meant for him, and he glances over his shoulder, finding the taskforce sergeant standing at his table. He feels his hand go tight on his spoon, as the sergeant then sits, breaking a number of expectations by settling in at Ghost’s elbow with his breakfast.
“See, I managed to get double eggs, putting together rashers and the pancakes.”
Ghost rolls his lips, looking down at the tray, where the sergeant has put together a kind of Frankenstein-esque breakfast sandwich. It doesn’t do well to explain why the fuck he’s sitting down at Ghost’s table, as the only other occupant and directly next to him out of seven empty options.
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John closes the door behind him, watching while Ghost does an awkward pace, then thumps onto the bed. It’s patently some attempt to appear collected, rather than crawling out of his skin with some emotion that John can’t quite identify but can certainly see. He can see, as well, Ghost still won’t look at him, as if staring over his head is any sort of subtle.
Ghost offers a low grunt. “What.”
John takes a harsh breath, leaning over the bed to forcibly catch Ghost’s eyes where they’re fixed at the ceiling. “I should be asking you that?”
Ghost peeks in any direction he can to avoid John’s face.
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Here's the thing. Ghost hasn't thought with his dick, literally, in years- he hasn't thought about fucking anyone, not even in passing. He genuinely hadn't realized that Soap was hot for him. So it's such a fucking shock, how hard it hits him now. Soap, all that exuberant, combative attention, focused down on Ghost like the rest of the bar doesn't exist. And he likes Soap, he knew he did, and it's just a bit of a surprise to realize that yeah, he also really wants to fuck Soap.
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the hands that thieve by hexeamorrow for FeelinWoozy
Fandoms: Call of Duty (Video Games)
29 Jan 2026
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Fresh out of almost two years in the Royal Marines, John MacTavish knew that the SAS selection process wouldn’t be a walk in the park. But he didn’t expect that his instructor, who they call "Ghost", would be making it harder in this way.