alliumfluff
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soap huffed then rubbed shook his head slightly, a blush creeping up his neck as he admitted “couldnae get off while ye were away, thought i'd try and burn some extra energy to save the recruits some more yelling tomorrow.” before he was finished one of ghosts hands cupped soaps crotch, applying even pressure.
soap jolted, hips involuntarily bucking up into the new pressure. “tha’ so?” ghost near growled into the scots ear, the near full body contact almost burning now.
or soap is pent up and ghost arrives just in time to help him out.
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Soap is physically affectionate by nature.
Ghost is not.
Johnny might just be rubbing off on him though.
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- English
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- 69,850
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- 7/7
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Bookmarked by alliumfluff
27 Dec 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
Ghost’s scary when he wants to be, but Soap’s fucking terrifying. He’s the type that’s able to read someone, know exactly how to get under their skin, make them like him enough to let their walls down, only for him to place a stick of dynamite in their back pocket while they’re distracted and walk away smiling, all while they’re none the wiser.
[jumps up and down] EHEHE MY FAVORITE SOAP CHARACTERIZATION!!! THATS MY BOYYY!!!!
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ABSOLUTELY*KRAKEN*MYM'FINGHOG by fockenWIMDY, Monsterlice, toomanybats for Soapedghost
Fandoms: Call of Duty (Video Games)
22 Dec 2025
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Of course there's always the muscle and the beautiful eyes and the every other tiny thing that has kept Ghost strung along in the last year and a half since Soap first walked up and demanded to be allowed to try for the 141. That's a part of it, Ghost knows. The drive, the determination to be the best without even taking into account his natural advantages when shifted into…whatever it is he becomes. Soap has always been cagey about that. But Ghost has always been attracted to competence, and this insolent, insubordinate little shit is also probably the single most competent soldier Ghost has ever had the good luck to work with.
And then there's the fact Soap is a hybrid. A damned powerful one at that.
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The predator in him can't deny the inherent thrill of having prey so close; the satisfaction of remaining undetected is a high he'll never get sick of. Though he's strictly human, Ghost is stealthier by far than any other Soap has met. It's probably why he's so pathetically infatuated with the man. He mentally shakes himself, returning to the mission at hand as he and Ghost both watch the men beneath them until they enter a door and are out of sight.
Then they move.
Bookmarked by alliumfluff
25 Dec 2025
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come on, collide by tigerlilycorinne
Fandoms: Wicked - Schwartz/Holzman, Wicked - All Media Types
07 Aug 2023
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“I could teach you how to do this, too!” She’d used that refrain so many times today, it seemed, that it was the first thing her mind reached for when presented with a blank slate. She imagined herself saying, I’ll teach you how to flirt and flounce, how to fix your hair, and how to touch yourself.
Or: Glinda gets Elphaba off for educational purposes and they both have a lot of feelings about it.
Series
- Part 6 of AUgust 2023 Short Fic
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- English
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- 6,456
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- 1/1
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Bookmarked by alliumfluff
18 Dec 2025
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"Ghost," Soap says, sharper this time, a little edge of order in his voice. Ghost's shoulders tense, roll up. He winces and straightens again, staring up at Soap. The eye contact is settling, a little - seeing Ghost's eyes focus on him is reassuring, tells Soap that Ghost is with him at least. He forces a smile. "What's goin' on in that pretty little head, huh?"
He means it to tease, hopes it'll make Ghost roll his eyes, scoff and shove at him, as he always has when Soap turns flirty and intimate. Ghost's boundaries are well-known and well-respected - he likes the social play of it all, comfortable in platonic submission that lets Gaz and Soap and Price needle at him, seek reassurance that he's their steadfast and constant foundation, but pulls a hard and fast stop when it progresses too far. Soap expects to hit that wall, to get a little snark and be dismissed as a worrying mother hen.
But Ghost just stares up at him, unblinking, his eyes unbearably warm, cheeks flushed along the edges of his mask.
Soap frowns, reaches out to put the back of his hand on Ghost's forehead. Ghost's lashes flutter weakly.
"Think I'm droppin'," Ghost mutters, leaning into the touch.
Bookmarked by alliumfluff
08 Dec 2025
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Stories older than civilization tell of the man in the moon, whose face can be seen if one knows what to look for - dark pockets in it that might resemble eyes, or a mouth, a nose. Soap can see the face now, gazing down with its large, flat eyes. He can't help the prickle along his skin; the sense that the moon is, indeed, watching him.
"Why do you keep sending me these dreams?" he asks the moon, who of course doesn't answer.
He doesn't know what it means, never has. Prophets and mystics, he's asked them by the dozen, but none of them have been able to explain his dreams. They chalk it up to stress - but why, he would ask, do they come so routinely? - or the fact that Soap was born on a full moon, in a particular alignment of the stars that hurts Soap's head when they try to explain it.
But why, he would ask, does that matter? Why would the day of his birth affect the dreams of his adulthood?
No answers, just a fond pat on his hand and a prescription for something to help him sleep. Useless, the lot of them.
Bookmarked by alliumfluff
05 Dec 2025