chaoticCarnifex
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If You Want to Give Me Anything (Then Give In) by GalacticGraffiti
Fandoms: Call of Duty (Video Games)
20 Sep 2024
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Ghoap are gay. They are soldiers. They yearn and flirt and it's not really anything. Is it?
Bookmarked by chaoticCarnifex
15 Dec 2024
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"Suppose your cruelty’s my saving grace." Johnny shoots him a look, a quirk of the eyebrows, a flash of dead-gorgeous teeth. Something way too brazen for a man who’s just been fucking shot. "Am I not worth saving?"
Ghost is only good for breaking people.
It's just as well, then, that Soap's had enough of the world's so-called kindness.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 22,794
- Chapters:
- 4/4
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- 1
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- 42
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- 206
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- 51
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- 2,621
Bookmarked by chaoticCarnifex
15 Dec 2024
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He wonders how close it was, how many millimeters would’ve made the difference, pictures himself bleeding out from a nicked artery while Ghost watches through his rifle scope, maybe sounding just like this, like there’s nothing more interesting than dust devils dancing across his sight lines. He takes advantage of the fact that it’s just them on comms, clenches the muscle of his inner thigh and says, “Will you promise to fuck me one last time if I’m ever KIA? For old time’s sake.”
Dead air in his ear. The quiet goes so deep it’s almost like Ghost severed the connection.
But then Soap hears him breathe, the long, slow drag of an inhale.
“Twisted little shit,” Ghost says.
Bookmarked by chaoticCarnifex
08 Dec 2024
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Soap is physically affectionate by nature.
Ghost is not.
Johnny might just be rubbing off on him though.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 59,014
- Chapters:
- 6/7
- Comments:
- 425
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- 2,573
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- 697
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Bookmarked by chaoticCarnifex
08 Dec 2024
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“Did you know that more than half the bones in your body are in your hands and feet?” Long, gloved fingers curl around a clenched fist, squeezing until there’s a huff of aggravation, tense jaw clenching, nails forced to bite into palm. “I think about that whenever someone says, “I’m gonna break every bone in your body”.”
The gloved hand releases, the shadow moves. He has little use for the finer tools, usually, but the slow-crawling pleasure of having time laps up his spine like a lover’s tongue, makes him fluid, comfortable in this tiny room, rank with sweat and fear. He grabs a hammer. Small, not something designed for construction. Precise.
“I think, ‘Well, that’s ridiculous. It’d be way too much work’.” He forces the hammer into the grip of the fist, so the fingers have no choice but to uncurl, and grabs the pointer and middle with bruising force. Their eyes meet. “But I could break half the bones in your body.”
A snap. A scream.
“Without even breaking a sweat.”
Bookmarked by chaoticCarnifex
07 Dec 2024