Ao3 Does Not Need An Algorithm, You're Just Lazy

Soap: I fucking hate you

Graves: You and half of the people I've worked with

Soap: I hate you more than any of them. I'll eat holes in all your socks and rip the soles out of your shoes

Graves: ... Eat?

Soap: YOU WILL BE UNCOMFORTABLE EVERY STEP

Graves: EAT??

something in common (COD Kinktober 2024)

AleRudy, SoapGhost. Size Queen + Car Sex. Lemon. Canon Era.

Soap groans, open-mouthed into the smooth leather of the car, damp with his spit. It catches on his nose, draws his lips upwards as Ghost pulls him back, onto his cock once more. No chance of catching his breath when the space in his chest is destroyed, the only sound he’s able to make a low whine.

Ale lets out a low whistle across from them and Soap forces his gaze up, tries to focus on the sharp hunger of his grin.

“Not bad, lift him a little, Ghost?”

Behind him, Ghost’s breathing doesn’t change, the roll of his hips unabated as he raises Soap upright, one hand on chest, the other a scorching brand on his hip, layered over the tattoo Soap has there. It’s a perfect match to the span of his fingers, the middle shortened to match the ring and fore; Soap had made the stencil himself after all.

“Ah, see that, Rudy, my love?” Alejandro leans down to murmur in Rudy’s ear, brushing his knuckles beneath the other man’s chin to lift it. “The bulge of Ghost’s cock in Soap’s belly?”

Rudy’s eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide and intent like he’s peeling away skin and muscle to inspect the exact dimensions. They make a good pair, something managing to claw through the haze of Soap‘s thoughts of charcoal and sweeping lines, enough negative space to highlight the intensity of Rudy’s gaze that isn’t softened by the flush over his cheeks. Alejandro tugs Rudy upright, a blurred reflection of the pose Soap has been lifted into, Rudy’s leg nudged into the footwell to broaden his stance and it takes Soap a moment to understand why.

Rudy’s hand is locked around Alejandro’s hold on his hip, Alejandro’s skin indented pale beneath the press of Rudy’s nails. There’s a similar bulge to the one in Soap’s belly, shifting as Alejandro rolls his hips but—

“Not bad,” Ghost murmurs, keeping Soap in place.

Rudy, getting fucked on the biggest cock Soap has ever seen and still very much in charge, catches Soap’s gaze and winks. 

Ghoap alt meeting bc I randomly remembered the one story of someone at a rave/concert thing

Like imagine Ghost sees soap and tells him to stick out his tongue. And soap does. Fully expecting Ghost (this stranger) to spit in his mouth. But Ghost was just checking because he suspected that soap was dehydrated. And soap was infact dehydrated. So he pours a bit if water in his mouth and tells him to swallow. And soap does. And they stay together for the rest of the time. With Ghost loosely hooking an arm around soap's waist, and feeding hin water every so often. soap could leave at any time but he doesn't

Alejandro has a single polaroid in his wallet.

It's a bike, shining a beautiful cherry red under the sun. Clearly freshly washed, not a speck of dirt on it. Behind it stands Rudy, his jeans slung low on his hips with the waistband of his boxers peeking out. He's shirtless, chest damp with sweat under the sun's rays and across his chest are bite marks of various depths, red and raw. Little cherries bracket his dusky nipples, piercing jewellery as red as the bike before him.

Alejandro considers it the greatest photo he's ever taken.

A little break before we go on with Nikto

Masterlist

pre-series deancore

Price: "Keep up, boys. Little sergeants who get left behind get eaten."

Soap: "Did he just call us little?"

Gaz: "I'm more concerned with the getting eaten part."

Ghost, Farah and Gaz

Wrote this in one sitting lol

You always call Simon by a nickname. Your favorites are "hun", "bubba", and "love". He pretends to be exasperated with you using them, but he doesn't hide the tiny smile that creases his eyes.

"Hi bubba, how was your day at work?"

"Love, can you hand me the garlic powder from the shelf, please?"

"Looking so handsome today, hun."

Simon associates your nicknames with good things and loving emotions. He doesn't remember the last time he heard his name from you outside the bedroom.

"Simon, can you come here please?"

It's as if a cold bucket of ice water is dumped over his spine and he freezes. He's been sitting in his home office filling out reports and filing paperwork while you did your own thing to keep yourself busy. The pen in his hand almost bleeds ink onto the paper before he catches himself and lifts the tip up before shakily setting it down and off to the side. As he pushes himself out of his chair, Simon's brain is working overtime asking himself what he did to upset you. Did he forget an important date? Was he neglecting you and not caring for your needs? Did you just not love him anymore?

That last one carried his feet quicker into the living room where you sat watching TV, your back facing him. As soon as he makes his presence known though, you turn around in your seat and flash him that brilliant and heart-stopping smile of yours, no underlying emotions hidden underneath as far as Simon's aware.

"Come sit, hun! GBBO is showing the episode with Michael Sheen!" You softly pat his usual spot on the sofa right next to you. He searches your face for a beat with furrowed brows, clocking in on your use of a nickname this time. He doesn't make a sound as he practically glides over to plop down next to you, thoughts still swimming and hardly paying any attention to the screen in front of him.

"Si? You okay?" Your voice brings him back and he looks over to your confused face, eyebrows creased in slight worry. He huffs and debates letting it go as you've gone back to using your pet names, but he wants his communicating skills to be better for you, so he sucks in a shaky breath and let's it out in quiet admission.

"Are you upset with me?"

You tilt your head, brows furrowing even deeper as you immediately shake your head. "No? Why would I be, have you done anything that would make me upset?"

Simon in turn also shakes his head. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything, but he can't go back to being quiet now that you know something is up. "I just... You- you used my name when y'called me. Y'never use my name, only those silly nicknames."

Your brows unfurl in understanding and he watches as your lips twitch upward in amusement. "Oh Si, is that what this is about? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you."

You gently take both his trembling hands in yours and squeeze them softly, not looking away as you continue. "I'm not upset with you, bubba. I didn't realize just how much I've been calling you anything other than your name and you got so used to it."

A huge boulder was lifted off his shoulders as he sighed in relief, then huffed in embarrassment. "Guess I overreacted a bit, yeah?"

You smirked, teasing. "A little, but I'm happy you told me. Feels nice to talk about things instead of bottling everything up, right?" You poke at his chest lightly and he chuckles with you, agreeing wholeheartedly.

what if we explored each other’s bodies [not sex] [i open your ribcage up and start messing around in that thang]