An edit of the Bugs Bunny "I wish all" meme, where the text has been modified to read: "I wish all asexuals a very pleasant International Asexuality Day." Bugs Bunny stands next to the text in a black and white suit with a red rose tucked in the jacket pocket while holding an asexual pride flag.
Hello Asexuals, I see you 👁️👁️ may you all have a beautiful International Asexuality Day 🌸✨💝
Model/photographer au page 8
Nape reveal 😳
✧ #ghostsoap #ghoap
Perfect 🖤
#ghostsoap
I am not immune to Simon “Eyelashes” Riley.
Well well well
Hello everyone. I took a small break because… shit happened lol.
May get part 3 out soon!
Also, the reason I dunno when this will come out is because I have a date this upcoming week and I have family plans 🥰
I’m not sure when part 3 will be out!
But I officially have a title for this thread fic/turning into Ao3 fic
I’m not gonna reveal yet, but there’s a good chance I’ll start on the Ao3 version of this very soon!
Other projects are also still in the works!
When you forget how a door walks around your professor.
And here is part 2!
I kind of got into a flow state with Ghost. Writing him in this way just does something to me.
More crazy things to come, it’s only going to get worse from here.
😈😈😈
“I see… that it?”
“Yes, sir.”
Ghost flinches at that. And Soap jots that down in his mind.
If Soap can stay on his good side and keep up with the lie, maybe he has a chance.
But how long will it last?
“We are on a special case for Makarov, also known as The Blood Snake.
We got wind of him making meetings for weapons trading, and possibly drug trafficking across Europe.”
Not a total lie, just leaving out some bits.
Soap swears he can see a smirk lurking under the fabric.
Who the fuck is this man?
“Good to know. So, tell me, Soap. What were you doing scoping out my meeting?”
Shit, what does he say?
They know what to look for, and where to look.
Would Price and Gaz even be able to find him? Wherever they even took him?
Fuck.
FuckFuckFuck.
“Rank.”
Fuck…
“Sergeant.”
“Specialties?”
“Demolitions, sniping.”
Lastly, Price put a tracker on his vest. That’s if these fucking monsters didn’t find it yet.
Possibly? Likely.
It’s clear that know a lot, probably even have people in the server undercover.
That tends to happen with big leagues like this.
Soap ponders, trying to take in his options.
The amount of options he has are VERY little, practically none.
He can either stay silent and die.
Or he can give little info as possible, and try to coerce a release in the future.
And god, is he terrified.
Soap can’t remember the last time he has ever been so afraid of a person.
The man before him isn’t human. Can’t be. The strength on him—
Brown eyes burn hold into him.
“Well, Soap. Why don’t we get to know each other a little more?”
“What kind of fucked up name is that?”
Soap just huffs, sniffling as snot leads to his lip.
He’s shaking too, his body in shock by everything happening to it.
From the slap to almost being choked to death.
Ghost just stands in front of him, staring like he was an insect ready to be squished.
Maybe Soap was.
“Soap.”
It’s so raspy, Ghost almost didn’t hear it.
“Speak up.”
“I go…” a few gasps, “by Soap.”
He can’t let up on his throat yet.
Not yet.
The struggle is in full swing, those eyes coming fluttering and tears streaming down those cheeks.
And then, Ghost lets go.
The Scot takes gulps, coughing in the middle of it all.
Bringing down his face to make them leveled, Ghost stares into those bloodshot blue eyes.
So, so very blue. Full of life and fear. Beautiful, in other words.
“You’re not helping yourself but not answering. Answer, and maybe we can turn this around.”
Ghost slowly caresses his finger on the top of the chair, slightly grazing his back. He can feel a slight twitch while doing so.
Without much thought, he moves so fast and slams his hand around his throat, squeezing tightly.
The gurgling failed gasps for air almost make him laugh.
“I can see that you’re SAS, what rank are you?”
Nothing.
Fuck.
What’s stopping Ghost from beating the fuck out of this Scot and throwing his dead body somewhere for his men to find as a warning?
What makes this ONE person different from all the rest?
Ghost takes slow steps around him to keep up the suspense.
It’s a full concrete room, no windows to know what time of day it is, just this man with a dumb haircut and the chair he’s in.
“What do you go by?”
Silence.
Ghost can feel his lip twist under the mask, the urge to put another mark makes itself known.
“You offerin’?”
“Hell no, not into blokes like you anyway.”
‘That’ll change.’ He wants to say, but he does like the ones that fight.
“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.”
God, the glare sent Ghost’s way makes him shudder. When has this ever turned him on?
“Where am I?” The Scot grunts out, spitting blood on the floor in front of Ghost.
“Not really in a position to ask questions, yeah?”
“Fuck you.”
The swing he gives isn’t his full strength, but it makes the man’s head completely turn, his neck popping in a few spots.
Oof, that’s gonna hurt later.
The man jerks almost instantly, his body rattling against the chair he’s tied up to.
“Time to wake up, rabbit.”
The man flinches, but doesn’t budge.
Let’s try this…
Ghost can’t help but smirk as his hand twitches. It’s begging for it, to put a red mark on that cheek.
He can’t stop himself.
“Enough…”
The leather chair creaks as he stands, pulling a cigarette and lighter from his breast pocket.
Walking over to the man, he takes notice of his mohawk.
“So stupid.”
Lighting the cigarette, he bends forward to blow the smoke onto his face.
“Who the fuck are you…”
When was the last time Ghost was so curious about someone? Most of the time, he’d go ahead and start beating the fuck out of them, demanding answers.
What makes this bloke any fucking different?
He’s a Scot, but what is he doing out here?
It’s obvious that this man is in the special forces. He had the tattoo to show the proof.
What an idiot.
But Ghost swears he has seen it before. And it’s fucking bothering him to the core.