#streamer! soap

[shit-talker]

Some fanart for @myriadblvck 's streamer!soap au 🫶

#john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #soapghost #cod 141 #little side note #but I've never actually drawn these two before #so forgive the fact they look a little odd pls 🙏 #also #haven't drawn digitally in almost a year so theres that #but have this anyways 🫶 #my art #streamer! soap

[tiddygame]

i’ve stared at this for so long that i now hate it and think ive lost all concept of how to write so take this and get it out of my google docs

the introduction is rough and the medical depictions (and accuracy/realism) could use some (a lot of) work but whatever! here it is, my vague yet still oddly specific idea of how the face reveal would go in @myriadblvck ’s streamer au:

tw: description of a panic attack? i think?

[this takes place post first irl meet but before they’re officially together]

imagine ghost has a glasgow smile but on one side they carved a little too deep and left some nerve damage. time and surgery helped, after which he could eat unimpeded and talk without a lisp, but there's still some facial nerve damage and/or skin contractures from scarring, specifically around the corner of his mouth.

now, everytime he smiles, be it shit eating grin or a full genuine joy filled smile that not even grumpy mcgrumperson could hold off, it always looks wrong because one corner doesn't raise fully like the other.

everything else is fine, there isn’t any facial paralysis, he just smiles… wrong. especially since only one eye properly squints when he smiles, giving him the look of someone who got stuck mid wink.

if he wants to look “normal” (or as normal as he could get it) he has to manually squint his other eye. still, it always felt weird; you don't realize how much those muscles affect the rest of your face until they're gone.

it's why he learned to always wear the mask.

when his expression is neutral, you don’t really notice it. if you can see his mouth when he talks however, it’s obvious that there’s something wrong. he wouldn’t say he’s necessarily ashamed of the scars and damage itself, but it’s the stares that are the worst. before he started hiding behind it, people would openly gawk or even glare at him as if he was some ne’er-do-well gang member that got what was coming to him.

he still remembers the cosmetic surgeon that had been talking to him about fixing the contractures— the whole appointment was a fucking nightmare. the cuts had healed nicely enough especially considering how bad it could have been; he was lucky to only need a little cosmetic help. the only reason he was there was so he could fucking eat food without struggling to open his mouth.

the doctor spent god knows how long breaking down everything wrong with his face like he was a fucking car mechanic lying about how dirty your filter is. the guy constantly mentioned that while he was under, they could also fix his jawline, do a rhinoplasty, trying to break him down to agree to more work.

he was already fuming my the time the doc brought up how kids would react. asking ghost if he wanted to scare children since “you cant expect the little youngins that are still learning about the world to not get scared by something scary,” and that “even some adults would cringe at the scarring.”

what stuck out most was the condescending smile he had when he said it. as if he was pointing out the obvious and ghost was being stupid and shortsighted by not agreeing.

he declined everything except what was medically necessary. the procedure went fine and after an aggravatingly long recovery period, he could eat solid foods again without issue. but the comments still stuck with him.

…okay, maybe he’s a little ashamed.

scaring kids with your face doesn’t feel good and being reminded of everything you’ve lost when you try to smile can really fuck you up in a way words fail to describe.

so yeah, he hates it. he’s gotten used to the mask, both skull clad balaclava and simple medical mask, being a permanent layer of armor. even now that he’s a bit more comfortable in his own skin it still feels wrong to pull it off.

when he gets close to soap, it still feels like a layer of vulnerability that he’ll never be prepared for.

the first time he let soap see his face, there hadn’t been any grandiose build up, no extravagant planning.

simon had arrived just a few hours earlier. he hated commercial flights with a burning passion but it was always worth it to see johnny.

with soaps twin out of town for the week, he had decided to take leave to spend time with his friend, a friend that he most certainly did NOT have a crush on (a disclaimer roach and gaz heard everytime they started snickering over ghost taking leave.)

johnny had cooked something nice and simple for dinner, saying that simon had spent too long with MREs and deserved real food (ghost only agreed if he was the one washing the dishes, soap had laughed and told him he's not so kind as to let him off the hook for chores).

when they ate, it was always in the living room with johnny taking care to always stay angled away from simon, never trying to catch a glimpse, regardless of how much he wanted to see what was under the mask. the obvious gesture of kindness and respect for his boundaries always left him feeling all weird and fuzzy inside. but, then again, johnny seemed pretty good at triggering that feeling in general.

their finished plates were on the coffee table and johnny was watching whatever dumb movie he had put on. he was pretty sure the man spent more time talking over it and making fun of everything than he did actually watching it (it was simon’s favorite way to watch a movie.)

ghost however, was watching soap. thinking.

in the end, it was an impulsive decision made after a strong three seconds of consideration.

“you uhm— you can look by the way,” ghost stared at the can of soda in his hands, immediately regretting the words.

“what?” soap didn’t fully turn, just shifted slightly to hear him better. a simple gesture to show he was listening without turning to face him. it normally made simon happy to see that johnny was more than willing to accommodate for his boundaries. now though it made him feel stupid for robbing johnny of a normal face to face conversation, a normal human interaction, just over his idiotic insecurities.

“my face, you—,” he felt his heart block his airway and tried clearing his throat before continuing, “you can look if you want,” christ he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. why was he getting so fucked up over this?

“are you sure?” he hadn’t turned yet, but ghost could see his pensive expression from here. this should be nothing. realistically, he knew johnny seeing his scars wouldn’t suddenly make him hate him… right?

“yes.”

but it was more than the fear of hatred, wasn’t it? he was scared that johnny would see him. see more than just the scars, see all of the ugly idiosyncrasies and insecurities laid bare. afraid that johnny would see the truth of how unlovable he was.

jesus he was getting so fucking worked up and dramatic over nothing.

ghost didn’t look up. he made an effort to not focus on his peripheral vision. he heard soap turn, heard the intake of breath. the silence was loud only for a second. then, deafening white noise surrounded him, inescapable, suffocating.

fuck.

he didn’t regret giving permission but god did he regret everything else; the stupid scars, the stupid nerve damage, the stupid way he had managed to fall for someone so fucking good like johnny while he was unequivocally unworthy of his love.

stop being so fucking dramatic. you are not together, never have been and never will be. reality was blatant in front of him but it didn’t stop his heart from foolishly hoping.

he heard soap stand and walk closer. saw from where he was still staring a hole in the can his feet step in front of his. saw johnny’s hands raise. he took a deep breath in, closed his eyes, and with a great deal of effort didn’t flinch when soaps fingers grazed his cheek.

both of his hands came up to cup his face, holding him and ever so slightly tilting his face up, giving him the chance to pull away. he didn’t. he may be a coward but he wasn’t backing down.

ghost eventually opened his eyes to see soap staring at him with wide eyes. he looked away, staring off to some point on the right. he hated not knowing what soap was thinking.

they stayed there for a while before soap broke the silence, muttering, “i fuckin knew you had freckles.”

it was stupid but it shocked a laugh out of ghost. he meant to drop his head, embarrassed that something so dumb made him laugh, but accidentally just pushed himself further into soaps hands making him blush.

he looked up and saw soap staring even harder than before. the chuckle died in his chest.

“do that again.”

ghost just gave him a confused look.

“smile.”

such a simple request, a one word sentence, but it set his face ablaze. his breath caught in his throat, somewhere around where his heart was still trying to choke him.

…he hadn’t thought it was that bad but soaps reaction indicated otherwise. fuck. was his it that awful? he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. this was stupid. he was stupid.

“simon,” of course, one word from johnny and it felt like he could breathe again.

“please?”

fucking goddamn soap and his stupid fucking puppy dog eyes and the way he has ghost wrapped around his fucking finger without even realizing.

ghost smiled. there was no real mirth, more a grimace than anything else. he just wanted to get this over with.

soap was still staring at him, his thumbs tracing his lips, following scars, drawing imaginary lines between freckles… if he wasn't so terrified it might have felt nice.

“Christ,” ghosts heart cracked more, “you weren't lying when you said you were beautiful.”

ghost huffed a laugh and went back to staring off to the right, the fake smile dropping. of course soap would try to lighten the mood with a joke.

his panic fled as quickly as it had consumed him, now just left sitting in soap's living room, face still cradled in caring hands, resigned to his mistakes.

he felt so tired and johnny's hands felt so inviting.

“i wasn't joking,” soap looked…upset? angry? wait— fuck, what’d he do?

ghost stared back at soap, confused and tired. soaps nails felt the grooves of the scar, catching where the skin was raised and lowered.

“you don't have to lie, soap. im a grown man. I'm not fragile. you don't need to coddle me,” ghost said it like it was a joke, hoping soap would laugh along and that this would all just blow over. that tomorrow morning they could forget this ever happened.

“are you calling me a liar?” soap’s brow furrowed. great. instead, he had managed to make everything worse and piss off soap as well.

ghost took in a deep breath, giving himself another shot at calming things down, “no, I'm not. I think you're lying, but you're not a liar,” he stood and stepped to the side, grabbing their dirty plates and walking them to the kitchen sink, “you just don't want to upset me, it's fine. I get it. you're a nice person but you don't have to lie to spare my feelings.”

“I am not fucking lying!” as per usual, all ghost had managed to do was make things worse. there’s a reason he had decided to stick to the battlefield and give up on domesticity.

“well alright then. agree to disagree,” he turned the kitchen tap and started rinsing the dishes, waiting for the water to heat up. just walk away. end it there. let us forget about this stupid blunder and move on. please just leave it. please, please, please—

“no.”

the force behind it damn near made ghost drop the plate he was holding. he managed to set it in the sink carefully and turned to face soap, who was now in the kitchen as well.

“i— I'm not just gonna fucking— simon,” soap took in a deeper breath and went to continue but ghost was faster.

“johnny,” he interrupted, walking forward with his hands up in a gesture of surrender, approaching slowly.

one last chance to not fuck everything up.

“the fact is they're called deformities for a reason. they're not cute. they're not pretty. they're your body’s way of healing what it can and protecting what it can't. it's not meant to look nice, it's just—”

“bullshit they’re not pretty! says fucking who?” the genuine distress in soap’s voice and force behind his words caught him off guard. “simon—”

he huffed and ran his fingers through his hair roughly, pulling slightly at the strands. christ, ghost needs to shut the fuck up. every single time he speaks he just upsets soap more and more.

he needs to retake his hostage negotiations courses. clearly he has forgotten everything about how to diffuse a situation.

johnny takes another second to breathe and collect his thoughts before he speaks.

“simon. I know that— that ‘this’ isn't something that's going to fix itself overnight and I don't expect it to. but, ‘the fact is,’ I think you're pretty.”

ghost opens his mouth to disagree but johnny doesn’t let him.

“no no,” johnny put his hand over simon’s mouth, shocking him into silence. he blinks twice, stupefied.

“i think— no. I know you're pretty. cute even. beautiful is a given but obviously worth mentioning.”

his hand moved to cup simon’s cheek. ghost grabbed his wrist but didn’t stop him, wether it was a warning or encouragement he himself didn’t know.

johnny continued, unperturbed, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right?”

there was a pause and simon realized he wanted an answer.

“johnny-”

“ah ah!” his hand moved back to cover his mouth, grabbing his face and shaking his head back and forth, over accentuating his words, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right? yes or no.”

he stopped shaking him and moved his hand back to simon’s cheek. simon sighed, defeated, “yes. you are right.”

johnny looked smug, “good. and what do you say when i give you a compliment you don’t agree with?”

simon sputtered, “wha— i don't fucking know—”

“nothing! you don’t say anything!” soap looked way too proud of himself and he continued, “or thank you if you feel so inclined.”

“that was a trick question,” simon replied eventually.

johnny thumbed over his scars once more, again tracing them, “sure it was. now go take a shower.”

he patted his cheek twice and walked to the hallway.

“wait,” johnny probably shook the few remaining brain cells out of his head. “this whole conversation ends with you telling me that I stink?”

“yes. rancid,” johnny opened the door to the linen closet. simon was still in the kitchen. the tap was still running.

“no dipshit, do you not remember telling me that commercial planes makes you feel gross?” johnny threw a towel at him, which he caught just in time for johnny to hit him with a bath rag.

ghost had mentioned that… ages ago, he thinks. on facetime with each other, discussing the merits of bathrooms on public transport. he had said that enclosed, crowded spaces like commercial planes or buses made him feel, well, gross. how—or why—did he remember that?

“but… I’m supposed to wash the dishes?” a weak argument against the stubbornness he was faced with but simon had officially lost track of his mind and this conversation.

johnny shot him a weird look as he walked back towards the kitchen sink. simon still hadn’t moved.

“did you think i was being serious earlier?”

“yes???” he felt like he had been given a lobotomy.

johnny decided to take pity on him and explained in a soft voice that felt out of place, “i was being sarcastic. i’m not going to make you wash the dishes, simon.”

“but that was the agreement: you cook and i wash the dishes.”

johnny laughed as if he remembered something funny, “yeah, i lied.”

simon still stood there, trying to figure out if he had a stroke. johnny had been angry, completely pissed at him, but now was letting him off the hook and calling him pretty? what the fuck is happening?

johnny turned him and pushed him towards the hallway. simon could have resisted but his resolve always seems to crumble around johnny mactavish.

“now go shower, you beautiful bastard,” soap grabbed one of the plates out of the sink and started washing it with water that had probably heated ages ago.

ghost walked towards the bathroom, feeling like he was on autopilot, limbs disconnected from his brain. his cheek still felt… odd? weird? tingly?

it felt something from where johnny had grabbed it. ghost thinks… he thinks he likes the feeling, whatever it is.

he needs to sleep.

#ghost: i look like a monster :( #soap: OH NO HES HOT #[also the interaction ghost has with the doctor is based on real life experience both me and other family members have had lmao] #also also it goes w/o saying but this isn’t negative towards cosmetic surgery but rather the cosmetic surgery industry #not pictured: me having a full scale debate w/ myself over tagging the person this is literally for #look i have anxiety alright #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #unreliable narrator #(soap is so fucking in love and ghost is so fucking stupid) #streamer au #streamer! au #streamer! soap #or is it #streamer!soap #god i hate tumblrs tagging system #my writing

[seabysiren]

I have an idea for "streamer au". How about the chat shipping the ghost with the reader? How do they always leave cute and funny comments whenever there is interaction between them? Or how the ghost is made silly in some situations by the reader? I would love to read this situation :) this is probably very badly written, and full of mistakes, sorry, my english sucks :/

your english is good! no mistakes or bad wording. <3

-

at first its subtle.

chat honestly thought ghost and you were very good friends. that was until he started to transition into quiting his day job to be a full time streamer. he asked several other streamers on how they keep a schedule, realistic goals, and how to keep the viewers entertained.

this meant branching out from just gaming.

ghost made his first appearance since he started the channel. you helped him black out the areas around his eyes and he donned the skull balaclava.

even though streaming would catch a lot of attention, ghost thought it would be better to keep a bit of privacy for himself. thus the mask.

you wore a plain black medical mask deciding it would be better to hide at least a part of your face for privacy.

the first thing chat picked up on was the difference in size.

they honestly thought ghost was bluffing when he told them he was 6'4.

he wasn't lying. the height difference shows when you hit him for leaning against you, arm on top of your head as the two of you chilled.

or when he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you against him. out of the way of chaotic soap as he runs around the set like a child on crack.

it was interesting to see the way that the two of you interacted, especially because for so long you only had a voice/edits made.

chat constantly says they can see ghost blushing when you tease him on his size. you think its hilarious that ghost's jacked af yet doing an overglorified office job. he lowkey flexes everytime he sees you eying his muscles.

it gets even more hectic when soap joined. you and soap constantly clown on each other and chase each other around the house. chat either eggs it on or feels bad that ghost has two leash children he has to constanly look after.

two gremlins and a tired parent trio.

but when soap's talking to you, ghost will just silently stare. straight at you. practically without blinking.

he zones out a lot when he looks at you. thinking what you would look like or how you would react if he did the things soap does to get your attention.

someone pointed it out later with a small short. putting heart emojis and stars around ghost as the camera pans from him to you laughing at something soap said.

the channel has officially adopted your 'streamer' name despite being the editor. they call you hound. because you can be so playful and easygoing, yet in games and when editing you're absolutely ruthless in your worth ethics.

ghost calls you pup.

the first time he called you that chat flipped out. it was midday when you came in with food for ghost. because he hadn't eaten breakfast in order to stream.

you had briefly popped into the face cam as you said

'here's some food.'

'thanks pup.' ghost was too focused on defeating hollow knight that he let it slip. and chat went wild.

chat calls it out everytime ghost lets it slip. soap always ends up exploding with laughter as he mockingly calls you pup.

and ghost? he just crosses his arms around his chest and sulks. most likely pouting underneath the mask.

chat argues about the ship name.

ghosthound.

houndghost.

ghound.

houst.

ghost got a donation alert that asked him about his preference one day while he was streaming valorant. the audience could hear the way his chair creaked as he leaned back and thought for a moment.

"ghosthound."

he accepted no further answers or questions about it. but that day twitter made ghosthound trend. lots of pictures and posts claiming the ship is official as people absolutely fawn over this moody giant and his happy little editor.

feeding further into the shipping, ghost had mindlessly liked a really nice fanart of the two of you hugging.

and suddenly he's getting tagged in tiktok edits and fanart.

he secretly looks through all of them in his freetime. he would never admit it.

though you have seen him scroll through those tags a few times. you pretended not to notice.

overall chat loves ghosthound and wouldn't give up anything for it.

...

except maybe another otp.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #cod #cod x reader #streamer au

[fixfoxnox]

Death of Peace Of Mind (Streamer/Camboy AU)

Pairings: Ghost/Soap, Implied Ghost/Roach/Soap, Implied Roach/Jackson

Warnings: Smut

Description: Roach gets a new mysterious donator on his streams

Word Count: 7.8k

Actual usernames used: @missiridescent and @probablylikesixducks

He tosses a flash into the room, waiting only a few seconds before rushing in after it. He doesn’t even have to think as his hands move, this is all muscle memory for him. His gun goes up, he shoots the disoriented enemy in the corner, making quick work of him with no shots on himself. Another door opens and one of the man’s teammates pops out. 

It’s a tough battle for several moments, bullets spraying between them. A few catch on to Roach but, in the end, he’s the better shot. His enemy goes down first and it only takes two more shots to kill him for good. Roach had checked the house beforehand, he knew that there was one other person on the bottom floor. One other person standing between him and the end of this. 

He tends to his wounds, taking ammo off the other two men’s bodies before creeping to the door. He moves slowly and carefully, and finally, he pauses at the top of the stairs. He can’t see the two men’s remaining ally, he knows he’s going to have to make a risky move to finish this. He tosses another flash first, hoping the man below him was stunned by the sudden bang and light. His grenade goes next, cooked in his hand for several moments before he finally tosses it down. It explodes within a few seconds of leaving his hands. He jumps down after the explosion, flinging himself down the stairs in a quick sprint followed by a slide.

It only takes him a second to locate the other man. Still disoriented from the flash and weak from the small explosion, it only takes a few shots to get him to the ground and another few shots to finally kill him. He pauses, a grin pulling across his face as cheering erupts in his ear. The screen flashes with news of his team’s victory. 

“Fuckin’ hell Roach that was incredible,” Jackson calls out to him over his headset, “Carrying my ass through this game.”

Roach snorted, leaning back into his gaming chair as the ending animation of their characters loading onto a plane played through, “That’s because you don’t pay attention. If you’d stop running your mouth for two seconds you wouldn’t get run up on.”

“Your viewers come to listen to me run my mouth,” his friend shot back with a tease. Roach rolled his eyes at the man, but a grin still pulled at his mouth. He turned his attention to his second monitor, his eyes scanning across the quickly scrolling words from his chat. Most of the comments were either victory emojis or just a simple “W” typed in to chat. There were a couple of longer ones, but none that particularly struck him. 

Another donation came in, “Thank you Allysourous16 for the 15! I really appreciate it!” He fixed his webcam with a bright grin. “What do you guys think? Do you guys just come here for Jackson?” He wasn’t surprised in the slightest when chat began running quickly across, many people typing out a simple “yes” or “YES” or “Jackson is actually my boyfriend” into his stream. He chuckled at a few of the responses, particularly the thirsty ones that were begging him to ask Jackson to say something with the accent he usually suppressed. 

“They love me, don’t they?” Jackson was smug, a clearly teasing tone to his voice, “I’m gonna steal your stream dude, we’ll call it the Jackson takeover.” 

Roach snorted, “I don’t think they’ll go for that, most of them are talking about how lame you are.” He turned his attention back to his game with a smile on his face. He was quickly clicking through his weapons, checking and tweaking his loadouts based on the last game that they’d played. 

“Stop projecting onto me now, Roach,” Jackson scolded him playfully, “Doing regular duos again?”

Roach hummed, “Unless you wanted to switch to DMZ or something,” he commented, “Or I guess we could go play just regular TDM.” He could practically hear Jackson’s disgusted huff and he couldn’t help but snicker. 

“You know I fucking hate TDM.”

“I do,” Roach glanced back over to his chat, “And I’ll never understand why.” His eyes scrolled the various questions that flashed across the screen and caught on to one in particular. He gave a hum, “When is your next spicy stream?” He gave a chuckle, bringing one of his feet up in his chair so that he could tuck his knee to his chest. “Tomorrow night,” he grinned at the camera, “Regular streams are Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Spicy streams are Tuesdays and Saturdays. Videos drop on Thursdays and Sundays for both the channel and the website.” 

“He’s got it all scheduled out,” Jackson commented, “Follows that shit like it’s a religion.”

“It’s important to be on time,” he defended himself. He clicked back over on the game, loading their little party of two into another match, “You’re late all the time, so I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“Yeah, yeah, see if I revive you this next match,” he threatened playfully, “I’ll ruin your stats man, don’t test me.” 

“To revive me,” Roach started dryly, “You would have to live longer than two seconds.”

“Fuck you.” 

“So me, you, and Logan tomorrow?” Roach nudged the door to his small home closed with his foot. He had his phone pressed between his face and his shoulder as he carried numerous bags on his arms, trying not to drop anything as he stumbled to his kitchen. 

“Yeah,” Jackson responded, “I checked with James and Frost but they’re both being lame.”

“By being lame,” Roach dumped the bags on his counter, “You mean having lives and jobs outside of streaming?”

“Hey,” Jackson shot back, “I have a job outside of streaming and I still play.”

“That’s because your job is connected to my job asshole,” Roach rolled his eyes leaning against his countertop with a grin, “Not everyone can get their best friend to hire them as their manager.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Jackson chided, “My official job title is manager and professional best friend. Thank you very much.” Roach gave a snort, fondness flowing through his chest. Despite all his teasing, Roach was ever grateful for Jackson’s help. The man was far more knowledgeable about the ins and outs of setting up a channel, managing it, and managing the money from it than Roach was. He’d been nothing but a blessing for Roach when he’d initially started streaming and, when he’d started making his other content as well, Jackson hadn’t even blinked, simply helping him set everything up. It had been natural for Roach to hire his friend. He made enough money for it, so why not? “You prepped for your stream tonight?”

Roach gave a hum, glancing over at the various bags sitting on his counter. “Yup,” he popped the p in the word, “Actually just got back in from the store. Stocked back up on lube and all that good stuff.”

“Did the lady at the checkout look at you like you were insane again?” Jackson snickered over the phone, “Can’t imagine most people buy six bottles at a time.”

Roach felt himself flush. The lady at the store had looked at him like he was crazy. He’d only managed to get through the interaction by directing his attention elsewhere in the store, trying to avoid her gaze as his face burned red. It was the oddest thing in the world: on camera, Roach could be shameless but the second the camera wasn’t there and he was melting into the ground. “Shut up,” he muttered into the phone, “You know I go through it like crazy.”

“We should see if they sell gallons of the stuff,” Jackson teased, “That’s about a week's worth for you.”

“I hate you,” Roach groaned, burying his face into his arms, “Best friends are supposed to be nice.”

“No we aren’t,” Jackson chimed, “I’ll stop embarrassing you though, I can practically see how red you are right now.”

“You’re the worst,” Roach gave a huff. “Thanks for planning tomorrow, twitter’s been going wild about the line-up. Apparently, someone started a rumor that Allen was back for the week and would be playing with us.”

Jackson snorted, “Please, Allen’s too busy running around with his creepy Russian boyfriend, we probably won’t even get another text from him for a month or so.” 

“And it will be a response to a three-month-old meme,” Roach couldn’t help but laugh at the thought. He loved his friend, but the man was far too predictable and far too busy, his stream loved it when Allen showed up, he was like a fan-favorite special guest for the stream just because of how rarely he was there. 

Jackson gave a similar laugh in his ear. “Alright, well, do you need anything else from me for the day?”

Roach started digging through his bags on the counter, pulling out the cold items of his groceries that would need to go back up, “Not that I can think of. You gonna watch the stream tonight?”

“Was planning on it.”

“Cool, cool. Talk to you tomorrow then.” With that all handled, Roach finally set his phone down and started unloading everything he’d bought for himself, his body humming with energy as he moved around. He always got like this the day before a stream, he never wanted to sit still. He was a stickler for a schedule, but on certain days he wanted more than anything to just start his stream early and work off some of the energy that had built up under his skin. 

He had to be patient though, and being patient meant finding something to help him pass his time. That was how he ended up where he usually found himself: curled up on his couch with his tablet in his lap, paying a visit to his favorite YouTube channel to check for any new updates. 

Roach never considered himself someone who would enjoy watching a vlogging channel, much less a couple's vlogging channel. Apparently, all it took to get him watching was for both of the people who were over the channel to be ridiculously attractive. 

YourFavoriteBoyfriends were the current favorite couples channel of YouTube and, after watching the couple’s first video, he could understand why. The two men were as if a dog and cat took human form and fell in love. Their sun and moon dynamic was the constant talk in the comments of their videos. 

There was Soap, a bubbly Scottish man who’d proudly proclaimed that he’d forced his boyfriend, Ghost, to do the channel with him. During the videos, he’d constantly be giving big smiles and laughs for the camera, always high energy with one joke or another to crack. While usually, Roach would find people like that to be forcing their energy, he’d been surprised to watch Soap and come to the conclusion that the man was fairly genuine with his high energy. That was just his personality and it drew Roach, and several other viewers, in. He was an attractive man as well. Both he and his boyfriend were quite muscular, and Soap didn’t shy away from showing that off during their videos. Whether it be a check-in while the two were at the gym or a shirtless morning intro to the video. Roach wasn’t going to complain, he enjoyed the sight just as much as the men seemed to enjoy showing off. 

Then there was Soap’s boyfriend, Ghost. A bit of a mystery in the community thanks to the ever-present masks that he wore. Apparently, it was the only way that Soap could get him to agree to be on camera. If it wasn’t a skull-painted balaclava then it was a face mask and dark sunglasses. The community had never seen his face and, like many other faceless YouTubers, he’d built up a rather large community of thirsters thanks to his extremely attractive deep voice and occasional random hand pics that he would post to Twitter. He also, as Roach had learned recently, was a gamer with a stream of his own. He, Soap, and one of their friends who was a frequent guest on their channel, Gaz would typically stream together. Roach had been frequenting those streams when he could on his private account and he’d, rather embarrassingly, donated numerous times just to get up to that “hand cam” goal that Ghost had. 

As he usually did on days like this, he checked their YouTube channel first. Nothing had been recently posted and he’d already watched their latest video “Swapping Gym Routines” about six times since it had come out only three days prior. The video was definitely a thirst fest for their fans, something that both Soap and Ghost seemed to know based on their jokes throughout the video. Roach was more than a little embarrassed to note that the video had certainly been on his mind during his stream later that night. He’d been more than thankful that he hadn’t accidentally let the fantasies going through his mind slip out of his mouth during the stream. 

He clicked away from their channel and checked their friend’s next. Gaz didn’t post often, but when he did it was usually either his own vlog, a rather entertaining gaming video, or a random prank that he’d pulled on Soap and Ghost. Roach was disappointed to see that he hadn’t posted anything either. His next stop was Twitch and, as soon as he loaded in, he let out an excited yelp, quickly clicking on the stream on his front page. Luckily his tablet was already on his private account, so he didn’t have to worry about trying to hurriedly switch over just to watch Ghost’s stream. 

He was pleased to see, as the stream finally caught up, that it wasn’t just Ghost, but also Soap sitting next to him at the desk, leaning his head on his shoulder to presumably just watch as Ghost played a match of Warzone. Soap was the one talking when the audio finally started coming through, “Ghost has me on today solely so that I can’t sneak off and donate the rest of the money for the hand cam.” 

Ghost snorted, his entire focus clearly on the game as his character quickly moved around the screen, gathering loot. “The point is that it's harder for them to reach the goal today,” he rumbled out, his voice sending shivers down Roach’s spine. “But if they reach the goal, they get the hand cam for the rest of stream.”

Roach’s eyes widened and he looked immediately to the little goal meter in the corner of the stream. If they reached five thousand dollars then Ghost would turn on his hand cam for the rest of the stream. He checked the time on the stream and noted with a bit of a pout that apparently the man had been streaming for an hour. Still, despite how long they’d been going, it was still the middle of a day on a Tuesday for many of their viewers, meaning that there weren’t that many people there and weren’t that many people donating, something he assumed Ghost knew very well. The goal bar was only a little past halfway at a total amount donated of $2,700. 

Roach squinted at the little bar for a moment his hand twitching at his side. Well, tonight was one of his streams…

He jumped off the couch quickly, scrambling to his room to grab his wallet before scrambling back into the room, his hands moving quickly as he clicked around on his screen to move over to the donation page. He typed everything in as quickly as possible before hitting send, a grin crossing his face as he tabbed back over to the stream, just waiting for his donation to go through. 

It was a few minutes until the donation was finally processed, he knew very well how often it could take for larger donations to finally go through. It was between games when the sound for the donation went off, Ghost and Soap both looked to the corner at the same time and Roach couldn’t help the giggle that pulled from him when he saw both of their faces. 

LoveBug has donated $2,300: Anything for the hand cam!

“LoveBug I’m literally in love with you!” Soap jumped up from his seat excitedly, laughing like a maniac as he paced around behind Ghost who, even with the mask on, looked absolutely shell-shocked. Chat was a quick-moving mess with numerous people typing out their excitement and words along the lines of “LoveBug being iconic as usual” “I knew our lord and savior LoveBug would come through” “Common LoveBug W” and several other more excitable and thirsty comments. 

“I’m going to have to ban you from donating or something,” Ghost grumbled, clicking a few things on his keyboard. Within moments a small screen had popped up just below the face cam that he had, this one aimed at his hands as they moved the mouse and clicked various things on the keyboard. “I really thought that the larger donation would keep you from coming in to finish it off LoveBug. Thank you for the donation, but also I can’t believe you right now.” 

Roach kicked his legs out excitedly, trying not to giggle like a madman as he collapsed backward to lay across his couch, grinning up at the screen in front of him like a lovesick teenager. The fact that he’d donated so much for the hand cam so many times that both Ghost and Soap recognized him should have embarrassed him, instead, he just found himself flushing red as that buzz under his skin grew more prevalent. 

After another moment Soap returned to his seat next to Ghost on the stream, a big grin on his face. He turned to the camera and called, “LoveBug, I’m in love with you. If we ever meet I’m kissing you.” Roach didn’t think he should be responsible for the loud squeal he’d let out after he heard those words. 

Roach smoothed out the sheets over the bed for what had to be the fifth time in only a few minutes. He’d made the unfortunate mistake of getting up to get ready for his stream too early and now, here he was, with another ten minutes to go and nothing to do to pass his time. He decided to do yet another check over of his mental list. 

His camera was all set up already, and the TV on his back wall displayed his stream so that he could read chat easily while things were going on. It had been a recommendation from Jackson after one of the streams he’d joined. Looking at a computer screen could be difficult while everything was happening, but if it was on a large TV monitor, he’d be able to see donations, chat, and make sure his camera was still working properly all at once. He checked the angle on the camera, noting with satisfaction that, as usual, it was perfectly showing the upper half of the bed he was on. 

He looked over the sheets next, making sure that the waterproof blankets he had were laid out properly. Those had been his own idea. While he didn’t sleep in his streaming room, he still had to clean up between sessions and the blankets made it so that he would only have to wash one sheet as opposed to several. He ran his hand over the blanket, giving a small sigh of satisfaction at the feel of the material on his skin. 

He had a bottle of lube for the stream propped up by the pillows for easy access and a bottle of water and a towel on a little stand-off camera for him after the more active part of the stream. He’d hesitantly pulled out one of the various toys that he owned as well, though he doubted that he would actually use it. It was there just in case chat wanted it, though, knowing his viewers, he seriously doubted they would. They tended to vote for just his hands unless he had something particularly fun to offer. 

He looked over himself next, giving himself a quick check over in the mirror. He’d already stripped himself of both his pants and underwear, it was just easier that way, and while he might usually choose to put on one of the various outfits he had for stream, he’d instead opted for one of the oversized shirts he owned. They did wonders for covering him just enough until he was ready for them to come off. This one in particular was from one of his merch drops and he was a sucker for the color of it. 

He checked his phone again and gave another deep sigh. Still eight minutes until his stream would actually start. He gave a deep huff, but went ahead and settled himself on the bed against the pillows. He pulled out his phone and shot a quick text to Jackson, jokingly asking if he could start stream early. Jackson had only responded with a simple “do it, no balls.” Roach had jokingly responded that the man was about to see them, so he knew that wasn’t true. 

He checked Twitter next, scrolling through various mentions and occasionally retweeting things, mostly fanart, that he was tagged in. Though he was still anxiously awaiting the time for his stream to start, he was able to at least somewhat distract himself until, finally, it was time for him to start. The buzzing under his skin grew, pulling a flush over his entire body. 

He tossed his phone onto his nightstand and moved himself to sit up nicely against his pillows, his legs tucked underneath him so that the bottom of his shirt fully hid everything. He gave himself one last look over before leaning over to where his computer was set up and quickly hitting the button for his beginning animation to run through before starting his camera. He watched his tv monitor as the animation began to run through, his chat already running past at an ever-quickening pace. By the time his camera finally turned on and he was finally live, he had a grin on his face. 

His chat during these streams certainly wasn’t as big as his regular chat, after all, there was no way he was going to have as many people paying to watch a stream of him fucking himself, but his viewers here made up for it with their excitement and constant flow of compliments. It hadn’t been until after his first stream that he fully realized that he might have a thing for praise. Jackson had helped him realize that he also probably had a thing for degradation as well. 

“Hey guys!” he started quickly, his voice chirpy as he smiled at the camera, “Man you guys have no idea how much I’ve been waiting for this stream.” He chuckled, his eyes scanning over the various greetings and responses he was getting in chat. His eyes caught sight of Jackson adding quick moderation messages or taking negative messages out before he could even have a chance to read the first word. His friend was unbelievably quick. “Okay so,” he leaned forward with a grin, “I have something laid out but,” he let one of his hands grip the edge of his shirt, pulling it up just slightly as he pretended to be a bit nervous. As he expected, his chat started going crazy.

He bit his lip and looked away from the camera, feeling himself flush red. He tucked his hands between his knees before speaking, “Well, I was thinking I might just use my hands today.” He squirmed in his place, feeling himself go hot all over as his chat responded excitedly, donations calling for him to use his hands and making requests of what exactly they wanted him to do with his hands rolling through. “But I don’t want to disappoint you guys,” he let a little bit of his accent shine through, knowing how often the slight Southern twang to his voice drove chat wild. Something about “innocent southern twinks.” Though he definitely didn’t consider himself to be a twink, if that was what chat wanted to call him then he would let them. 

He gave the camera a quick bat of his lashes as his hands began to run up and down his thighs, slowly exposing more and more of his skin as the fabric pressed up. “What do you guys want?” As expected, his chat responded enthusiastically in favor of him using his hands and his hands only for the stream. At their agreement, he gave the camera a beaming smile, “You guys are so good to me!” He gave a tall stretch, feeling his shirt ride up just enough for him to flash the camera, as he expected, chat was calling him a tease within only a few seconds of the action. 

“What?” he tilted his head at the camera, “What did I do? I was just stretching so I’d be ready for you guys.” With that, he began sliding a hand up his thigh, carefully avoiding his dick, before sliding the hand slowly up his chest to begin playing with one of his nipples. He gave a short sigh, tilting his head back while biting at his bottom lip. It was all a part of the show, but one that he took pleasure in. Though he couldn’t see his chat, the sound of donations increasing told him that they were quite happy with the move he’d made. Like this, he was still providing a bit of a tease with the shirt covering what his hand was doing, but his chat could see his hardening cock clearly. 

After several moments he brought his head forward again, his low eyes scanning over his chat as he brought his other hand under his shirt to begin playing with his other nipple. He waited patiently, giving only slightly dramatized gasps as he touched himself. He knew if he waited long enough, if he teased long enough, someone in his chat would break. Sure enough and moments later someone had donated the $100 dollars for a request that he take the shirt off. He gave the camera a quick pout, but didn’t make them wait any longer before he slowly stripped the shirt off, leaving him naked. 

He kept one of his hands flicking at his nipples, but he slowly lowered the other to press against his cock, pulling a low moan from his lips. He pulled his hand back with a quick look up at the camera before taking in a desperate breath and asking, “Can I touch myself?” He bit his lip as he flicked at his nipple again, letting his eyes close just briefly before adding in a whine, “Please?”

He held for several moments, keeping his face pleading as he gasped shamelessly for the camera with every tweak of his nipple. His chat was responding overwhelmingly positively, several donations rolling through begging for him to finally start touching himself properly. He was just as eager as his chat so, though he certainly could have drawn it out longer, he was quick to collapse back against his pile of pillows, propping himself up into a sitting position against them as he called out, “You guys are so sweet to me, so sweet.” 

He grabbed the bottle of lube from the pillow next to him, quickly opening it and pouring just a bit too much into his hand for simply touching himself. He knew how wild it drove stream when he had the slick substance practically dripping from him. He was quick to hold his hand out above his cock, tilting it to the side and letting some of the substance fall down onto his length. He gave a startled groan when the still-cold substance hit his heated arousal. His hips gave a brief jerk, but he was quick to follow the substance up with a hand wrapped around himself firmly. 

He tossed his head back with a whine before once again directing his attention to the camera in front of him and his chat continuously scrolling by. Slowly he started to stroke himself, tightening his grip on his cock every time he neared the base before loosening it as he reached the top. He kept his pace slow and steady, breathless moans and whines pulled from his throat at every second. Occasionally he would run his thumb over the tip of his cock, fingering his slit in a move that would have his hips jerking up and his legs shaking. 

He could feel pleasure pooling in his gut, the praise from his chat only added to the sensation of his hand slowly working him to his finish. He spread his legs out further, giving the camera a good look at him as he moaned and gasped obscenely at the sensations of his hand against his cock. Eventually, he brought his hand away from his nipples and down to his cock as well. He gave himself a quick stroke with both of his hands before lowering it further to fondle at his balls and occasionally sneak lower to tease at his hole. 

He was teasing his chat again, just circling the rim of himself as he jerked himself off. Occasionally he would let one of his fingers just tease into his hole, but he would be quick to arch his back and give a desperate moan afterward, raking his hand back up his thighs to play with his balls again instead. Of course, he would eventually fuck himself with his fingers, but he intended to make himself come from just a hand on his cock first. After that, he would make his chat beg for him to have another with his fingers. At least that had been the plan. 

Even his best-laid plan couldn’t have prepared him for the donation that he spotted flashing across his screen with a request under it. He froze in his spot when he saw it, his hand going still on his cock as he just stared with pure shock. Even his chat seemed absolutely stunned, the feed slowing for several moments before picking up quickly again with praise for whoever had donated. 

SudsNSkulls has donated $1,500: If you don’t fuck yourself with your fingers for the love of God

Then a few seconds later…

SudsNSkulls has donated $500: Sorry that came off as mean, please fuck yourself with your fingers we are desperate

Roach just stared at the screen, several different emotions crossing him at once. He’d never had someone donate so much at once on one of his streams, and certainly not back to back like that. The fact that it had been back-to-back donations told him that the large amount certainly wasn’t an accident. He’d never seen this donator before but, based on the messages, there were at least two people watching from the account. Two people who had just donated a shit ton of money. Their messages almost made him want to laugh with the nervous nature of them, but he couldn’t laugh. Not when these people had just donated 2,000 dollars to watch him fuck himself. 

After a long hesitant moment with lots of messages coming through of “I think they broke him,” “He looks so confused fuck that's adorable,” and “Doubt he’ll actually listen to the request. You just wasted 2k,” he finally moved. He removed his hand from his cock, still feeling the slick of lube on his palm, and reached out to grab the bottle of lube again. He grew more confident as he moved, he could freak out over the fact that they’d just donated so much after the stream, but for now, he would make sure they got their 2k worth. If that meant skipping ahead a little, so be it. 

He popped the cap on the lube and poured another decent amount onto his fingers. He tossed the bottle back to his bed before warming the substance up in his hand, he could do cold for the first part, but not this part. Once he was comfortable with the temperature and chat was starting to get impatient again, he slowly lowered his slick fingers down toward his hole, making sure that his legs were spread wide enough that the camera could see everything. 

At first, he just did what he had been doing previously, rubbing his fingers along his rim teasingly, occasionally poking one finger inside of himself to tease. By the time he actually pushed a finger fully inside, he was a panting mess, his chest falling up and down rapidly from the stimulation and the precious pleasure of the earlier friction on his cock. He worked his finger in and out of himself for several moments, pressing against his tight walls carefully to loosen himself up just a bit. 

The slow drag of just his one finger wasn’t enough and soon he was adding a second and working inside of himself carefully. He arched his back slightly at the feeling, moving his fingers in a scissoring motion to stretch himself out for the camera. He brought his free hand back up to his nipples, little moans escaping his mouth as pleasure shocked up his spine. Slowly he started to increase the speed with his fingers, building himself back up to that edge. He could wring multiple orgasms from himself in more than one way. 

As he brought himself closer and closer to the edge, curling his fingers inside of himself, he made sure to fix his gaze on the camera. His mouth was hooked open as noises escaped him with every move. He added a third finger to himself suddenly, giving a high keen at the stretch and jerking his hips into the movement, his cock weeping between his legs. He knew himself and he knew that he was going to need stimulation to his cock before he would cum, but he drug it out, fucking himself quickly with his fingers while whining and whimpering. 

He brought himself just to the edge, squirming at the too-much and not-enough pressure of his fingers. He kept himself there for several moments, his voice desperate and his chat going absolutely wild at the display. Another donation came through.

SudsNSkulls has donated $500: Do you need permission to cum sweet boy?

And Oh. Roach certainly didn’t expect the moan that was pulled from his throat at the question, but fuck, if that wasn’t doing it for him. He did so like it when others took charge and he could see his chat going wild with the question. Really it was because of his chat that he nodded along to it. It definitely wasn’t because of the arousal that had flooded his system.

That certainly wasn’t why he tossed his head back and whimpered out, “Yes, yes, oh fuck, yes! Please, please, please let me cum! Oh, fuck-”

He brought his eyes back to his chat as he continued pounding himself with his fingers, his legs spasming with every thrust of his fingers. He hadn’t really meant for another donation to come through, though he certainly should have known based on their previous donations. 

SudsNSkulls has donated $500: Go on then, cum for us

Roach let out another high whine but immediately moved his hands from his nipples and down to his aching cock. It only took a few pleasurable quick strokes to himself before his hips were stuttering and pleasure was piling over him in waves. He continued stroking himself through the feeling and working his fingers inside of himself. 

Even as his own cum dripped down his hand and chest, he kept working himself. He gave several loud moans as sweet overstimulation wracked his system. It was so unbelievably good, he was having a hard time paying attention to chat. He even almost missed another donation.

SudsNSkulls has donated $250: Going again? Dirty boy

He gave another long moan at those words, his face going red as he found himself nearing his end all too quickly once again. It surprised him to find himself nearing his end once again, never-ending waves of pleasure washing over him with every stroke of his cock and every thrust of his fingers inside of himself. 

“Fuck,” he whined out, “Oh fuck, please, God so,” he gasped as he ran his thumb over the head of his cock, his hips jerking wildly up into the movement, “so fucking good!” He curled his fingers inside of himself, tugging and hooking himself open for only a moment so the camera could see, his fingers moved back to quickly stroking along the inside of him, forcing needy whines from him. Another donation came through.

SudsNSkulls has donated $500: Such a good boy for us, aren’t you? Cum again for us

Roach gave a loud moan and his back arched off the bed as another orgasm was ripped from his body. 

Roach took several moments to come down from his high. He slowly moved his hands away from himself, giving a low whine at the empty feeling that came from pulling his fingers out of his clenching hole. He just laid on his bed for several moments, taking deep calming breaths as all of his faculties returned to him. That low buzz that had been under his skin was finally gone and now he felt bone tired. He still had a stream to do though. He started to push himself to tiredly sit up fully, ready to grab his bottle of water and the rag he’d set out for himself. Another donation came through. 

SudsNSkulls has donated $300: God you’re gorgeous

Despite the fact that these two random people had just instructed him to fuck himself and cum twice, the words felt somehow intimate. Like whoever they were, they meant them. It made his face glow a bright red and he was quick to dart off camera, taking several calming breaths as he wiped himself down and put back on his shirt from earlier. He grabbed his bottle of water and gave himself an extra moment before shyly climbing back onto the bed to fix the camera with an almost embarrassed smile. 

“I um,” he ran a hand over the back of his neck, “I hope that was okay for everyone.” As expected, his demure little attitude had chat losing their minds, constant praise scrolling over the screen. He slowly let himself lean back against the pillows then, taking little sips from his water bottle. Now was the part of the stream where he would just talk with his chat for a bit. He’d learned fairly quickly that sticking around to have a conversation with his chat fostered an environment where his viewers could feel closer to him. There was something he had to do first. “Um, also before I forget,” he flushed red, and this time his shy energy was real, “SudsNSkulls, thank you guys for all of the donations, though,” he tugged at his shirt nervously, “You guys certainly don’t have to donate so much. It’s only one hundred for a request and fifty for a regular message.” He tucked his knee’s up to his chest and gave a smile to the camera, “I really don’t need so much money.”

He moved to talking with his chat then, answering random questions that they gave him and telling simple stories about his day. It was as he was chatting about his plans for the next day's regular stream that another final donation came in from his new mysterious viewer.

SudsNSkulls has donated $200: What if we enjoy donating so much money to you? What if we’re trying to spoil you? If it keeps your attention on us, it’s worth it. 

Roach had gone delightfully red once again.

“And that's yet another carried victory for one Paul Jackson,” Roach teased his friend, watching with a grin as the animation of their characters loading onto the plane played through. 

“Fuck you!” Jackson called playfully. Roach couldn’t help but laugh when, a moment later, the game labeled his character as the “survivor” of their group. “And fuck this game too!” 

“I just want to know how it's possible that you died to a guy with a starter pistol in circle four,” Logan joined in on his teasing quickly, poking fun at their mutual friend who had died a total of four times over the course of the entire match. A donation came through.

probablylikesixducks has donated $10: Jackson has a specialty guys, it’s not his fault that it happens to be dying

Roach couldn’t help but snort at the message, covering his face for several moments to laugh before reading it out to Jackson and Logan. “Hey!” Jackson called with a gasp, “Who sent that? I’m finding you and I’m blocking you on everything, I don’t care.”

“Don’t be mean to my chat, dude.”

“Me? Mean to your chat??” Jackson yelped, “I’m being actively bullied but apparently I’m the mean one?” 

“Yes,” both Roach and Logan responded at the same time, sending them both into a fit of laughter as Jackson called out how much he hated them both, though they all knew it wasn’t the truth. 

After finally getting control of his laughter again, Roach began to quickly look over and change his weapons specifics before clicking to launch them into another match. He turned his attention to his chat as they searched for a match, giving himself a few moments to just speak with his viewers. “Do I have a favorite operator?” Roach shrugged, “I like uh, the one with the mask is pretty cool, his voice is just…incredible. But like he’s tied with the Scottish one because the Scottish one is handsome and his voice is just as good in my opinion.” He turned back to his screen briefly with an embarrassed chuckle, “That’s why I swap between them, I can’t choose just one. If I could play both of them at once, I would.”

“If Roach could take both of them at once he would too.” Jackson started with a teasing lilt, “And I don’t mean in a fight.” Roach could feel his face heating up, but he only gave a nervous laugh at the man’s teasing words before continuing to look over chat. 

missiridescent has donated $10: Okay, can we talk about the dono from yesterday's stream? Moneybags much?

“Thank you for the $10 missiridescent,” he felt himself blush red at the reminder of the mystery donator from the previous stream. They hadn’t sent anything else after the one donation that had practically made him malfunction while live. He had hardly been able to speak properly during the last part of his stream and, when he’d finally signed off and called Jackson, all his friend could do was laugh at him. Even now he could hear Jackson snickering in his ear. “Yeah, they were super generous,” he gave the camera a smile, “We get lots of one-time donators on the spicy stream though, so it’s not likely we’ll see too much more of them. I doubt they’ll stick around long enough for us to justify talking about them too much.”

“How much did they donate,” Logan asked carefully, “You know I’ve got a hot boyfriend of my own so I can’t watch my friend fuck himself like Jackson can.” 

Roach gave a laugh, “Yeah, cause you’re fucking your dad’s best friend.”

“Co-worker,” Logan corrected quickly, his voice high, “And he’s like way younger than my dad, okay!”

“Not judging,” Roach held his hands up carefully, “No one’s boyfriend can be as bad as Allen’s.”

“Russian creep,” Jackson agreed quickly. “One of these days he’ll break up with him for good and we’ll never have to see the fucker again.”

Roach snorted, “Yeah, well, they’ll probably elope before that happens.” He shook his head before finally answering Logan, “In total, it was like over 4k that they donated over the course of the stream.” 

Logan let out a low whistle, “They must have really liked you then.”

Roach squirmed in his seat for a moment, guilt creeping up his spine, “I guess,” he ran a hand along his desk nervously, “It just makes me nervous when people donate so much. Like, what if they can’t afford it? What if they didn’t mean to donate all of that? What if they were drunk or something?” He gave a deep sigh, tugging at his shirt as he did. 

“You can’t control that stuff,” Logan commented easily, “If they fucked up, they fucked up. That’s their deal, not yours.” 

“Gotta agree with Logan on this one,” Jackson spoke quickly, “That’s their thing to deal with if they did that.”

Roach looked nervously at his chat to see that most of his chat was agreeing with what his friends were saying. It still didn’t make him fully relax, but it did help him to focus as another game began in front of him. He just needed to take his mind off of what happened and get himself back on track. 

“Oh shit,” Roach watched Jackson’s character go down in front of him, a sniper in another building delivering two quick shots to his friend’s character and sending him to the gulag. 

“Try to win this Gulag,” Roach teased with a laugh, “Logan and I don’t have the money to bring you back right now.”

“You think I won’t- oh.”

“You lost didn’t you?”

“Maybe.”

Roach shook his head, a fond smile on his face as his character poked out of the building that he was in fairly quickly, allowing him to spot the sniper's scope. He pulled his own sniper out, preparing himself to pull a rather risky quick scope move. He was fairly good at these types of things though, and most of the time it ended with him winning. 

Just as he started to move his character out, a donation came through. He glanced at it for only a moment before doing a double take, his eyes wide as he stared at the number that flashed across his chat screen. Chat was going crazy, and even as his character was easily killed on the screen in front of him, Roach felt frozen in place, his mouth dropped open in shock. 

SudsNSkulls has donated $4,000: We can afford it and we definitely meant to donate that much. Here is this just to prove it. Trust us, we’ll be here from here on out. 

Roach continued staring frozen at the donation, his face going bright red as his character was also easily killed in the gulag behind him. He felt like he was going to melt into his seat, heat prickling the back of his neck. Another donation came through.

SudsNSkulls has donated $500: God, you’re adorable

Roach ended his stream in a panic.

#gary roach sanderson #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #paul jackson #kyle gaz garrick #logan walker #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #soap x roach #ghost x roach #soaproach #ghostroach #ghostroachsoap #call of duty #streamer au #camboy au

[richardazer]

When worlds collide.. aka my streamers are both into cod 🥰

Cosplay is difficult teehee

#my art brr #call of duty #CaptainSparklez #petezahhutt #captainsparklez fanart #petezahhutt fanart #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #Kinda? #It's cosplay #It's art of streamers cosplaying #YIPPEE #Mashing my interests together like it's playdough

[len-wither]

NO NO THIS CAN'T BE REAL

WHAT KIND OF SOAP OPERA DOES YHIS SERVER OPERATE ON????

NOT EVEN SCAR'S CARTOON LOGIG DID THIS

#jimmy solidarity #new life smp spoilers #new life spoilers #new life smp #you're telling me he's the good guy now #after being the BAD GUY #i haven't seen the episode yet #but if there was a bad guy origin WHY WOULDN'T THERE BE A GOID GUY #IT JUST MAKES SENSE GUYS #i hate my streamer so so much #update: our guy's a monkey #THANK GOD we're not at that soap opera level yet

[thebrokenomega]

Hello there, everyone!!! I would like to share links to my other accounts in hopes of growing my audience. I accept donations and hope to grow as a cosplayer and streamer. Thank you all for the support!

https://www.buymeacoffee.com/sergeantnex

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #fanfic #abo fanfic #abo story #call of duty modern warfare 2 soap #call of duty modern warfare 2 soap x reader #call of duty modern warfare 2 x reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 soap #cod mw2 #cosplayer #streamer

[moshemedia2000]

"Lauren DeLaguna"

Queen of YouTube drama.

#boyt #youtube #lolz #internet drama #soap opera #live streamer #IRL

[ghcstao3]

streamer bfs ghost and soap

ghost who does faceless, minimal talking gaming streams. sometimes watch parties if there’s something interesting (and non-copyrightable). who at most has maybe a couple hundred viewers, but even then that’s a rare number. and who only ever raids soap because duh.

then his viewers being in for a surprise, expecting more quiet, only to be met with a very talkative soap, who usually has a million and one things going on but somehow manages to make it work. who will do drawing streams or gaming or cooking or just about anything requested of him (within reason). who sometimes has a mysterious figure in the background of his face-cam but seldom acknowledges it, even on the rare occasion that said figure wanders up and wraps their arms around soap’s shoulders, face remaining carefully out of frame.

and despite soap garnering a larger following, he almost always only raids ghost, too. and while they’ve never stated anything explicit, haven’t even really acknowledged one another on stream beyond a just sending you guys over—the viewers speculate. whether they’re friends, dating, if it’s just a coincidence. it’s fun.

idk. just streamer au ghoap :)

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #alternate universe

[salemlinnet]

Page 114, all those aus where ghost's a live streamer have room for compliance in this comic now (which obviously means that thirst trap fitness influencer soap is also continuity compatible)

#soapghost #ghostsoap #ghoap #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghost/soap #soap/ghost #call of duty #modern warfare #cod modern warfare

[enneamage]

would you do an enneagram on george and wilbur's friendship? it always makes sense that there is something unstable, because I think Wilbur is always someone who takes too much and George is the type of person who only gives when he feels comfortable in a friendship and it always seemed to me that Wilbur did not respect this or did not have enough patience for that.

The upfront tl;dr on this one is I think your instinct is right.

Wilbur like… desires George. I know how whacked out that sounds but I legitimately don’t know how else to describe his courtly approach to George, where he does seem to be putting on the kind of persona that he would for a romantic prospect, except a bit more butch. His love language is touch and he is pawing all over that boy. If I’ve got my information right Wilbur was one of the first to turn flirting with George into ‘a bit’ (aside from Mr. Dream Wastaken), and he had to be the one to back it off because of how hard everybody else went in on doing it too.

George loves his space, and he is very protective of it. It’s a big trust thing for him to allow himself to be disturbed in any way, and if you want to go to bat you’ve got to be willing to fight and make yourself worth his while. I think this stimulates the part of Wilbur that loves a chase, as well as the part of him that loves Nines. It’s ironic because this is probably scaring George away about as often as it works. Wilbur can be very attuned to feedback though, so when he’s locked on to George he really can be accommodating to his needs. He's just not great at... staying that way. Wilbur is a man of a thousand apologies.

George is technically minded from a practical standpoint, but he’s also got an intuitive side that’s more than happy to take one sniff at something and then leave it alone if it doesn’t seem right. Wilbur has a lot of off-beat micro moments, and it’s entirely likely that George has noticed these over time. It’s also worth noting that George is very sensitive about his space and time because of his mental health, so someone who he’s filed away in his mind as “maybe a good time but ultimately very intrusive” won’t make the cut. He needs things to be on his own terms right now, and he’s already got people to feel melded with that aren’t Wilbur.

Honestly I think Wilbur is still gunning for George, it’s George who has the wall up. Wilbur is more built to give up on something after he’s got what he wanted, which is a place that him and George never really got to.

#wlbr 3w4 #grge 9w1 #I sound like a truther I'm honestly not #I'm just detecting some strangely pointed intensity from Wilbur #Streamers are a Soap Opera

[tiddygame]

hello im sorry i wrote more for @myriadblvck ’s streamer au ghoap

I time travelled and around 4,000 words magically appeared in a document titled: "you didn't juju on the fucking beat soap" I think I was possessed by something. anyways here’s that:

tw: is it a panic attack? is it just typical ghost angst? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just be careful it's mostly fluffy (ghost is mean to himself cause he almost kissed soap on the forehead)

also i just realized after i wrote this whole thing, this is based on my general knowledge of dog tags… as an american. writing about the british military. so if you know your shit about the british military, uhh sorry in advance. my bad. from a very brief search i think a lot of it’s the same or at least same enough but this might hurt for people that know a thing or two. whoops!

fun fact: did you know for a brief stint (iirc, >40 years from around 1960s to 2010ish) the american military was printing soldiers’ ss numbers on their tags? yeah can’t imagine why they switched back to serial numbers.

Ghost had been pacing outside of his office for three minutes before he actually entered. When he did, he didn’t say a word. Just sat down in one of the chairs, fidgeting. It wasn't that uncommon of an occurrence, he was normally either gathering his thoughts before talking to Price about something more personal or hiding from what/whoever he didn't feel like dealing with.

When it came to mission debriefs, he was clear and concise. However, personal matters were a different story, and based on the way he anxiously opened and closed his hand, he'd guess this was a personal matter.

Price didn’t ask. He knew that whatever it was Simon needed to say would come out eventually. For now, he continued filling out paperwork and trying to figure out what it was that had Ghost so worked up.

Honestly, there wasn't much guesswork involved. Chances were, it was probably yet another leave request. He knew from Gaz (who was such an awful gossip he sometimes wondered how the man made it through interrogation training) that Simon had been visiting some social media person he had taken a liking to.

(Look, yes, Price knew about Twitch and live streaming and everything. He’s not actually that old. However, as long as he kept up the front of the old man who complained about the keyboard on his phone being too small, he didn’t have to deal with social media. Sure, it caused all of them to joke that he was geriatric and on his last legs, but he was able to convince Roach that he doesn’t know what TikTok is, meaning he wasn’t in charge of reviewing all the bullshit he and Gaz posted. A fair trade if you ask him.)

He also knew that Gaz was convinced the two were in love to the point that he and Roach had a bet going to see when they would get together. Price thought it was rather stupid, but he had to admire their ability to keep it under wraps; if the lieutenant found out they’d been placing monetary bets on his love life, he had a feeling he would need to find replacements for the 141.

Regardless, Price hoped that one day Simon would tell him about the friend but, until then, he was happy to fill out any paperwork that would get the poor man off base. God knows that idiot needs a vacation.

Simon was bouncing his leg, messing with his fingers, and staring off into space.

Three of his nervous habits at once? He must be even more worked up about this than Price thought. But, he was a patient man. It was about seven minutes of companionable silence before Simon spoke.

“I need replacement dog tags. I seem to have lost mine.”

Price looked up. He could see the chain around his neck and the outline of them still under his shirt.

"You do?" Price shuffled his documents around, eventually finding a blank piece of paper he could write on.

"Yes sir."

“And do you know what happened to them?”

“I believe they were knocked off during the fight from the last mission. I didn’t notice until later that night when we were back at base.”

Price paused and looked up from where he had been writing.

The last mission had been an odd one. Ghost normally stuck further away, their eagle-eyed lieutenant typically stayed at long to mid-range, watching for hostiles and making sure whoever else was in the field wouldn’t get caught off guard by someone they hadn’t seen.

During the last mission, he decided to engage at close range, a far cry from his usual approach of sniping hostiles from the shadows.

At one point, their lieutenant had been tackled and almost strangled. The fight had pretty much ended, his attacker was the only one left there. Ghost, being The Ghost, dispatched him with ease, but it stuck out to Price. Ghost may prefer to stay further back, but that didn’t mean that his hand-to-hand combat skills were lacking by any means.

He remembered thinking at the time that it was a clumsy mistake, that Ghost would have had to be intentionally trying to fuck up to get knocked down. He assumed the man had just been caught off guard, but he knew that theory wouldn’t hold up to any scrutiny. Ghost isn’t one to get caught off guard.

What was stranger yet still was Ghost specifically pointing it out in his mission report, calling even more attention to it.

Price set his pen down and leaned back in his chair.

“You planned this?”

“I plead the fifth,” said the British man.

Price just continued to stare, curious to see if this was actually going where he thought it was going.

“Is this off the record?” Simon eventually asked.

“Of course,” almost everything the 141 did was of dubious legality. Not reporting a conversation about possible wasted assets was far from the worst thing that had been swept under the rug.

“Then yes.”

“Why?”

Simon didn’t answer. Price waited, giving the man time to gather his thoughts, but based on the way his mouth opened and closed before he slumped in his chair, it seemed he didn’t know what to say at all.

Price had an inkling he might know what this was about.

“You know, Gaz likes to keep me informed,” Ghost looked up at him, somewhat panicked yet resigned, like he already knew what Price was going to say.

“He tells me you have a certain someone you’ve been visiting?”

“Yes.”

“Is this person a friend or…?” Ghost once again paused, calculating the potential consequences of his available responses.

He didn’t answer.

“Hmm,” Price paused, wondering how far to push before he continued, “You want to give this person your old dog tags?”

“Yes.”

Of course he would pre-plan “losing” his dog tags. Price mentally chuckled, leave it to Simon to be such a sap that he wanted to give someone his dog tags yet still make sure to follow protocol so he never actually risked going without them.

He had to hand it to him, it wasn’t a bad plan.

Price had a smile now, knowing his grumpy hard-ass lieutenant had a sweetheart he wanted to be sappy with.

“Romantic or platonic?” Price tried again.

“… I don’t know,” he’d never seen Simon look quite so… forlorn.

Hmm… That would explain his hesitancy.

He was pushing how much Simon was willing to divulge.

“And does this person know the significance of you giving them your dog tags?”

Well, curiosity killed the cat…

“No, they don’t.”

…But satisfaction brought it back. How interesting, the plot thickens.

“Do you plan on telling them?”

There was a long pause, after which it dawned on Price, “You want to give them your dog tags because they don’t know.”

It wasn’t a question, he already knew. Simon somehow slumped further, attempting to hide his face as if he weren’t wearing a balaclava.

His grumpy hard-ass lieutenant. Absolutely smitten with someone yet too shy to say anything, deciding on a quiet confession, one they likely wouldn’t pick up on.

Price chuckled, jotting down the necessary information he would need when he got his hands on the right paperwork, polishing up some of the details of Ghost’s story to make it more believable, before reading off what he had written to Ghost to make sure he got everything right. Ghost nodded once, and that was that.

“Replacement tags will probably be here in two to three weeks.”

“I would like to request leave for two to three weeks from now.”

Price handed him the form, having already grabbed it. He noticed how the man seemed to calm at just the thought of getting to visit his mystery person.

Oh, he thought to himself.

I am definitely joining Roach and Gaz’s bet.

<><><><>

They were lying on the daybed in his streaming room, or, well…

No, that’s not quite right.

Simon was lying on the daybed.

Johnny was lying on top of Simon.

His computer was still softly playing quiet (non-DMCA) music from where his stream had just ended. Instead of turning it off, he had decided to unplug his headset and leave it on, the music just loud enough to be heard.

Simon was sleepily scrolling through his phone, trying to pretend like he hadn’t almost dropped several times while dozing off, desperately trying to stay awake. Johnny had watched his struggle and decided to lay down right on top of Simon, not even trying to pretend like he was trying to fit on the remaining space on the daybed. Why would he when Simon was right there?

It was meant to be a joke, having thrown himself on top of him to annoy the man into sleeping on an actual bed (he claimed he wasn’t tired but the comically loose grip on his phone and the waking world said otherwise.) However, unfortunately for said sleepy man, Simon was very, very comfortable.

His head was resting on Simon’s chest, arms under his back like he actually was just a pillow, one hand reaching higher to feel where Simon’s hair had begun to grow out slightly.

I wonder if he would let me help him cut it…

Simon had said he was like a clingy cat, his free hand running through his hair in the same manner one would pet a cat to prove his point. The joke's on him though, he likes it.

Simon had tried to stop but Johnny didn’t let him, threatening to tickle him if he did.

(“I’m not ticklish, I just don’t want you throwing a tantrum.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say,” he was definitely ticklish, and one of these days he was going to prove it.)

At some point, Simon had given up on keeping a grip on his phone, letting it drop to the side. They would probably have to go digging through the cushions to get it out of whatever crevice it had fallen to. As of right now, the idea of ever leaving his spot was comical at best.

The sun had begun to set, orange and pink tinted light filtering through the sheer curtains, making everything look more like a dream. Or maybe it was just the proximity to the man below him that was making him feel so serene.

Johnny took a second to inhale and exhale slowly, appreciating the moment. He hoped that this memory, this beautiful tranquility with Simon, would be something he cherished for a long time to come.

He knew that they had things to do. Soon, Simon would be catching a flight at some ungodly hour, headed back to save the world yet again. But for now, he was happy to nap away in their own little bubble. He never was a religious man but here in the arms of Simon Riley, he was tempted to think heaven was real, and that it was right in front of him.

“I almost forgot,” Simon mumbled, not sounding any more awake than he looked, reaching up for the collar of his shirt. Thankfully, the hand that was running his hair remained. He didn’t like proving the cocky bastard right, but he probably would have thrown a tantrum had he tried to remove it.

“They had some fuck up along the line or something and accidentally printed me an extra set of dog tags. I was just gonna toss ‘em but thought you might want—”

Johnny was now wide awake, sitting up and yanking the chain out of his hands.

“Don’t you fucking dare throw them away, of course I want them!” Simon’s face reddened, a frequent treat for Johnny now that he had gotten more comfortable going without the mask. Simon might have been good at keeping a poker face, but without his mask, he was a blushing mess.

He wondered if the blush was from his obvious jubilation at the gift or if it was because he was now straddling the man. Such pesky details, however, (even ones that would keep future Johnny awake at night) were far less important than examining the necklace in his hands.

It was obvious this was the older set, the metal worn and dented in some spots though the writing was still clearly visible.

“Calm down, I’m not going to take it from you,” the gruff tone was severely undermined by the aforementioned blush. It was hard to sound tough while half asleep on a daybed and being used as another man’s pillow.

Johnny stared at them for a little bit longer, feeling every dent and wondering the story behind how they got there, before putting them on.

He smiled at the man under him, “How do I look?”

He was going to joke, asking if he looked like a rough and tough soldier ready for war, but something in Simon’s eyes made him stop short.

He was looking with… with… Reverence was far too intense of a word for the softness of the moment but it was the only word that came to mind.

Simon reached up with his hand, grabbing the tags, his knuckles grazing his chest.

Well, that’s just fucking unfair.

Simon was supposed to be the blushy one. Not him, goddammit!

Though, he thinks when they make eye contact, they end up tied for who is blushing the most. They stare for a while, maybe it should have felt awkward but it was too adoring for either to feel any form of uncomfortability.

Neither moved.

It was Johnny that broke first, smiling at him, yet again tracing all of the scars he could see. It was his new favorite hobby, especially when Simon would blush making the scars on his face all the more visible.

He took one more second to sleepily appreciate the man before him, then went back to using him as a pillow. His hands went back to where they were before, one under Simon’s back and one playing with his hair. His head, however, did not fall back to his chest, instead resting in the crook of his neck and shoulder.

Simon’s hand returned to running through his hair, his other now coming up to rest on his back, rubbing up and down a few times before the sleepiness from earlier fully returned with his hand stopping somewhere around the small of his back.

Johnny leaned up slightly and gave a chaste kiss to the part of his neck that he could reach, then settled back to where he was. The hand in his hair paused.

“Thank you, Simon.”

A second of delay, and then the hand continued.

“You’re welcome, Johnny.”

Simon shuffled slightly, getting comfy before—

A kiss, on his forehead.

He couldn’t stop the blush and smile if he wanted to. He snuggled closer before drifting off to sleep.

When he woke, he was in his bed, practically tucked in. His window had been opened slightly, blackout curtains that had been drawn closed now swaying slightly with the breeze. When he focused, he realized he could smell petrichor and hear heavy rainfall outside with the occasional grumble of thunder.

There was a note on his nightstand. As he expected, it was Simon’s handwriting, apologizing for not waking him up before he left. It said that he had made breakfast for him (pancakes, with enough for when his sister would inevitably try to steal them), that he made sure to lock the front door, and left the window cracked.

He giggled sleepily at the last line. Regardless of the context, it always made Simon anxious to have the curtains open, much less to leave a window open. But, he also must've known how much Johnny loved the rain and set his worries aside, just this once, so he could wake up to the rain.

He set the note down and flopped back onto his pillows, his hand felt something cold and he remembered.

The dog tags.

John MacTavish is no stranger to crushes and heartbreaks.

He's had high school sweethearts, been in and out of love, he knows his way around the world of dating. Which is why he most certainly does not squeal and kick his legs while holding the tags like some kid with their first crush.

He did it like a grown man, thank you very much.

He grabbed his phone and sent Simon the worst pun he could think of; it was tradition at this point to send him some god-awful joke before his flight.

Simon has probably already forgotten about the whole exchange. He probably woke up and assumed he threw them away when he noticed he wasn't wearing them. It was probably stupid, an insignificant gesture with no meaning. But to Johnny, it felt like everything.

He sighed dreamily at the ceiling and felt the cool metal once more. Thunder roared outside. He thought about how he had felt in the man's arms. Thought about how much he wanted that again.

God.

His phone dinged and he immediately reached over to grab it.

I'm fucked, aren't I?

<><><><>

Elsewhere, Ghost was in an airport terminal, having far too much time to think.

Over the weekend, it was almost impressive how many times Ghost had talked himself into and back out of giving Soap his dog tags. He really hoped he hadn't made a mistake.

Simon felt the spot that Johnny had kissed and wondered if he remembered it. Wondered if he had meant it.

Simon thought about how Johnny had looked cradled in his arms when he carried him to his room, the way he had reached out for him when he laid him in bed. The way he had grabbed his wrist and clung to it, grumbling when Simon tried to pull it back.

If asked, he'd say that he had woken up late and that's why he was so far behind schedule. He'd keep the part where he sat there, kneeled in front of Johnny's bed, waiting for him to fall back into a deep enough sleep to pull his arm away all to himself. After all, it would have been rude to wake him up, no?

He had made sure to plug up his phone and, upon seeing the forecasted weather, hesitated before opening the window. It was only barely cracked, just enough for the sounds of the outside world to shamble in, but not so wide as to worry about water damage. He stared at it, convincing himself not to worry and that Johnny would like waking up to the fresh air.

He turned back to make sure the man was still asleep, still comfy, but stopped for a moment. He approached the bed and hesitated before running his fingers through his stupid haircut, almost wishing the man would grab his arm and give him an excuse to stay.

He didn't. Simon did, however, lean in to give him one last kiss on the forehead as some stupidly sappy goodbye, before his brain turned back on and he ripped himself away.

What the fuck is wrong with you? What? He grabs your arm in your sleep so you feel entitled to be able to kiss him?

Simon backed away, staring at the hand that had just been in his hair. He felt dirty.

For fuck’s sake, relax. It's not that big of a deal, you did it earlier; the man fell asleep in your arms, a forehead kiss isn't too much of a stretch.

He went to the kitchen and scrubbed his hands for a while, only stopping when he thought about how much water he was wasting. He still felt dirty.

Not a stretch? You don't get to decide that. How would you feel if someone tried to kiss you while you were unconscious? If they said that they felt they should be allowed to do so because you fell asleep?

He had started making pancakes. Something quick, easy, and reheatable for when Soap woke up. Like making him breakfast would make up for trying to kiss him in his sleep.

Why can't you just be normal?

Eventually, and after a run-in with Soap’s hell-spawn of a twin, he had to leave. The time on his phone showed that he should probably already be halfway to the airport by now but he has always been a selfish man.

He had snagged some paper and left Soap a quick note, hoping the apology would make him feel better about worse sins than not waking him up. It didn't.

He stared at the man for a second, admiring him, before he reminded himself that he was a fucking creep and left.

The storm left the flight delayed by 1.5 hours. Ghost had sat waiting, wireless headphones on and connected, but not playing anything. He had far too much time to think.

Simon thought about how Johnny had looked, his dog tags around his neck, silhouetted by the fading light, the sun behind his head as if even the stars knew they could never compare to him.

He stood and started pacing. Amongst the screaming children, feuding families, and people who think they're entitled to listen to their music without headphones, one middle-aged man having an existential crisis didn't stick out.

He thought about how he had never understood weighted blankets so well until Johnny had thrown himself on top of him. It should've hurt. He should've been annoyed. Instead, Simon selfishly hoped he would never get up.

It took him a while to put his finger on what he had been feeling exactly. Finally, he realized.

There, in that moment, he had never been so happy to be alive. It was a startling emotion to discern amongst the swath of negativity he normally felt. It startled him so much, he had snapped out of his reverie and stopped short in his pacing. When he checked the time, he saw he had one missed text from Johnny.

Soap (art streamer): i was trying to think of an airplane joke but none of them landed

Simon chuckled and sat down; he almost forgot about their dumb little tradition.

Ghost: Disliked.

Soap (art streamer): everyone is so mean 2 me 💔

Ghost: It is not my fault your pun was so Boeing.

Soap (art streamer): well i thought i could wing it

Ghost: Did you look up what giving do-

Ghost: About the tags, you

Ghost: I think you make me want to live

Ghost sighed and fell back further into his seat, coming to a conclusion that his subconscious had long ago discovered.

I'm in love, aren't I?

Soap (art streamer): speechless huh? finally, the Wright reaction to my comedic genius

Ghost: Absolutely awful, Mactavish.

Soap (art streamer): :D

Took you long enough, dumbass.

<><><><>

Soap’s twin spent a good bit of time staring at her brother's new accessory.

“Is something wrong?” he challenged, hoping she wasn't in a bothersome mood.

She failed miserably at hiding her shit-eating grin but didn't care.

“Nope!” she replied.

She had run into Ghost early that morning before he left.

"Detergent."

She was pretty sure he never even learned her name, just jumped straight into calling her detergent.

"Ghoul," she greeted, glaring at the man.

Being required by law to not trust him, she checked on her brother as he was still gathering his things and noticed the necklace.

“You gave him your dog tags,” she accused, like she was framing him for murder.

“Yes, I did,” he replied casually, as per usual robbing her of the fight she so desperately wanted to pick.

“Did you tell him what it means?”

“...What does it mean?”

Damn, he was good. If she wasn't convinced that he was the devil incarnate, she might have fallen for his feigned ignorance.

“100 bucks and you buy my silence.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“200 then.”

“It doesn't even mean anything.”

“Hmm. Well, I suppose you might be right… JOHN!” their neighbors were probably going to complain.

“What the fuck are you doing?” ooh he was getting panicked now.

“If it doesn't matter then you won't mind me telling him to look it up,” she started walking to his room, “JOHNSON!”

“Fucking Christ, woman! Just— Fucking— Here.”

He pulled out his wallet and started counting bills. Damn, that was easier than she thought.

“What did you say? 100?”

“Nope! That was before inflation. Now it’s 300.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? You said 200!”

“So you admit you tried to scam me?”

“Just take the 100 and g-”

She didn't even get to yell, he reached for more before she could finish taking a deep breath in.

“Just shut the fuck up! Here! Three fucking hundred!”

She was tempted to raise her price further, but she was no gambler, she was a strategist. She knew a defeated man when she saw one. If she played this right, she could extort money out of him for a long time to come.

Something, something, vampires not fully killing their victims and all that.

She took the money, counted it, and then held out her hand to shake.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Wraith!”

He didn't shake her hand.

“Christ, both of you are awful.”

He packed his stuff and left, broke, broken, and defeated.

She ate as many pancakes as she could, rich and victorious.

She thought about how much power, how much blackmail she had in this moment.

“I’m fantastic actually,” she walked to her room.

I am going to be so fucking rich by the time they get their shit together.

#ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #streamer au #streamer! soap #streamer!soap #streamer! au #ft. Old Man Price and Chronic Shit Stirrer Twin Sister (unnamed) #ghost never changes soaps contact name #my version of ghost in this au has convinced himself that he's nothing more than an incel/neckbeard #and that's why he is the way that he is #[I know my mess of 'family hcs' or whatever was derailed to shit but I still think ghost would call his twin detergent] #i’m scheduling this for when i’ll be asleep so goodnight i hope you all sleep well and drink plenty of water #my writing

[seabysiren]

I need to know what ghost's alerts for subs, donations and all that would be (streamer au)

This is my favorite au so far

part I ; part II ; blurb I

it was actually a bit hard for ghost to customize everything.

he's bad at technology. like really bad. like grandpa what does this do.

like whips out his glasses and squints at everything. you had to explain why he needed the alerts.

"wym i need this?"

que a whole slideshow presentation on how to be a better streamer.

he took notes.

his alert for subs was the classic windows error. because the first time he customized it everyone thought his computer was about to crash.

and he thought that was funny.

that was until the little alert that someone just subbed. then everyone realized he customized soemthing for once.

cue everyone praising him in chat because they know he's not tech savy. because everytime something goes wrong you have to pad over to his computer to fix it.

he goes on mute every once and a while and just forgets. to unmute.

silent game play. but no one tells him how scuffed his streams are.

some streams are fine. some are chaotic with you and soap. and some are just. scuffed.

the donation alert has this little custom made gif of a dog running around in circles. the dog's name is riley and he has a little skull mask on his face.

the audio is just you randomly screaming mail motherfucker. because he couldn't be bothered to pick the rest of the alert/dono alerts.

soap convinced you do record it for twenty pounds.

the gif was made by you. because simon didn't want to choose and you thought it would be funny.

ghost really likes the dog. calls him riley and regularly asks you to make new gifs for his donos. you do it because you love him.

no jk its because babygurl personally asked.

his chat loves it.

they all officially adopted riley and fight over him every stream. just full out war. they make dono wars to see all the randomized gifs of riley and go absolutely crazy for him.

ghost's just thankful that people like him enough to donate.

honestly he was speechless the first time someone gave him a dono. despite the fact that he was making money from the videos, it never really dawned upon him that people like him enough to send little messages along with a few pounds.

his voice always gets a bit soft and sappy whenever he thanks the little poltergeists for their support.

soap teases him for it and you just plaster little heart emojis all over the screen.

cue more baby gurl.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #cod #cod x reader #gn reader #streamer au

[snootlestheangel]

Hear Me Out

Guys, just, hear me out: YouTubers/Streamers AU for COD. There was a series of posts on @cod-dump 's blog about what games are banned for the boys and I've just been thinking about this but with Ghost, Gaz, Soap, and Alex where one of them is the actual streamer/gamer dude and the others just almost always play with him (maybe Roach if we went on the path that he's not actually mute, just kinda hates talking)

Retired or discharged for whatever reasons, the 141 are actually kinda happy to be living semi-normal lives. Maybe they're not all entirely civilian now, maybe Price has a position that doesn't require him to be on the field but he's still teaching/being a Captain.

But he's constantly telling the boys to find things to do to keep themselves happy. Especially Gaz and Soap, cause the military is kind of all they know, they've never had to be civilians really as adults.

Ghost is transitioning fine, and he's been a huge help for Soap, but Gaz is still kinda struggling. Eventually something happens and Alex is part of his life, but it's still not really what Gaz needs to feel "normal".

So Soap and Alex convince Gaz to start streaming/recording videos of their gaming sessions. It's a slow start, and Gaz is getting frustrated.

Until one time they play something silly but incredibly rage-inducing. It's a trending game because it's designed to pit you against your friends but is still silly nonetheless. There's one clip in particular that starts trending and becomes the reason Gaz's channel starts to take off.

The clip? Gaz yelling at Soap for something and Soap immediately just cursing him out in straight Scots only for Alex, an American, to scream into his mic as loud as humanly possible "WHAT THE FUCK IS A KILOMETER?!?!" after having been dead silent for the last 2 minutes. Why did he scream this? Not because of Soap's Scots, but because he had secretly just won the round after having lost the entire time they'd been playing.

People eat that shit up! Suddenly everyone's like "damn there's this hella attractive dude that records gameplay with his friends and they're all really funny." Everyone falls in love with Gaz's appearance first, but then they actually hear him and his friends interact and it's just trading insults and stupid jokes, acting like there's no one watching and they're suddenly kids again.

It eventually comes out that Gaz and his friends are all veterans, and despite the air around military not being the best, there's no denying that caring for veterans is a must. People slowly start to support Gaz's channel/streams, and before he knows it, he's actually got quite the following. His whole thing is about "wanting to do something to distract himself and others from the shitty aspects of life with a few laughs and some good games"

Eventually they convince Ghost to start gaming with them. It makes Gaz's popularity grow because now there's this really deep accent in the mix that's completely clueless as to what he's doing like 90% of the time (I just have this gut feeling that '22 Ghost is so fucking awful at video games) that they refer to simply as "Ghost". Suddenly, the chaos Gaz and his friends are known for increases tenfold. Ghost is flirting with all of them, Soap is arguing with him over literal couple things that come with living together, and there's a new element of really dark humor that wasn't there before (there was dark humor, just not this dark)

They're playing The Backrooms one time. They're not even in the game yet, just in the lobby. Gaz is laughing at Alex's tag for the game "MYLEG!" which is a reference to that one fish in Spongebob always yelling "my leg!" after an incident. Gaz is laughing too hard to actually explain to his viewers that, yes, Alex is an amputee. Soap starts making fun of him, as usual, and that's when it happens.

Alex: "I'll take my leg off and hit you with it, Soap, I swear to god." Soap: "I forgot you were already missing one for a second there and got real concerned." Alex: "No, Soap, I planned on removing my other leg. The one that's still attached, yeah. Just like a lil *pop noise*, ya know?" Gaz: *wheezing so hard he almost throws up*

Then they're playing this silly monster/cryptid hunter game called "A Day Out" and there's skeletons every now and then on the map. Gaz walks up to one and just starts freaking out, saying Ghost's name over and over.

Ghost, freaked out: What?? Gaz, pointing at the skeleton: Look, it's you! *cackling* Ghost, after a concerning long pause: *quietly* Nah, I'm not gonna say that Alex: SAY IT COWARD Ghost: No, that's my brother *Gaz making the most horrified face as he tries not to laugh* *Alex and Soap are losing their shit* Gaz: NAH THAT'S NOT OKAY

That clip posts and the internet looses it. I see this being the actual first video Ghost is in, so for this to be the first thing the viewers get of him, it's safe to say he's a hit. It's also never explained that Ghost does have a deceased brother, so there's just an acceptance of Ghost's skeleton brother.

There's several times where they've all gotten together and played silly games like Mario Kart when there's a bunch of them. There's the sober one and there's the drunk one, where there's so many different languages being hurled as curses at each other, Gaz gives up on captioning ANY of it.

OOOOooooooooohhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!! WHAT IF! Roach becomes his editor once he gets popular enough so he can spend more time playing games, solo ones when the others are working.

For a while, everyone's going crazy wanting to see what the others all look like, and sometimes (cause we're assuming the world they live in now during all this is a lot better), they're joined by Rudy or Alejandro, or both in one rare instance. Sometimes, for old times's sake, during the drunk gaming sessions, they'll call Laswell only for her to scold them. There are times they'll bully Roach who always, as the editor, changes their words from the insults to compliments. Or he definitely trolls Gaz a lot with some of the editing, and it's all around just a good time. Hence why everyone wants to know what they look like.

Then it's around the holidays after about 2 and a half years of Gaz's channel being as popular as it is. He posts a single picture on his socials with a group of people and the caption: "Love seeing the boys over the holidays."

It's such a nice photo; Alex with an arm wrapped around Gaz's shoulders, Soap and Ghost on his other side with Roach between Soap and Gaz.

And the internet has once again gone crazy. Why? Cause not only are these dudes fucking hilarious, but they're hot and taken.

Except, as they all end up teasing him about, Roach is very much still single XD

I have been watching too much YouTube lately, can y'all tell?? Haha anyways back to my hole I shall crawl

#I don't know what this is #I just kinda threw something up cause the brainworms need to be released regularly #kyle gaz garrick #cod gaz #gaz cod #gaz call of duty #gaz modern warfare #gaz mw2 #gaz is a gamer #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #alex keller #call of duty alex keller #gazalex #au? #civilian au #cod incorrect quotes

[rainybubbles]

How COD men say the first "I love you"

Price, Gaz, Soap, Ghost, Rudy, Keegan

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC.)

-

for more context (you don't need it to read) : here how you met them

P R I C E

-He confessed with Gaz covered by whipped cream.

-Let me explain.

-After your first meeting based on a pregnant Shrek cake to his base and a misunderstanding, John became a regular of your bakery.

-So obviously for confessing his love, he thought of baking a cake.

-During the afternoon on the base, he tried to bake.

-Yes, he could have bought a cake with "I love you” on it. But John liked doing this on his own when it came to gifts.

-He liked the old-fashioned way of doing gifts himself.

-However, as the dough turned an unexpected purple hue, he wisely sought the expertise of Soap, a proficient pastry enthusiast.

-"Cap...your dough is..." Soap hesitated, unsure of how honest he could be.

-"Horrible, you can say it, son," John acknowledged.

-"I just wonder how you managed to make it turn purple?"

-"I used beetroot."

-"For a cake?"

-"Sugar is derived from beetroot."

-"Yeah, but in a Paris-Brest, you don't have beetroot."

-"...how can I fix this?"

-"Well, call Gaz. By three, we could finish the pastry in time," Soap suggested with a knowing smile.

-The collaborative baking commenced, yet Soap overlooked a crucial detail—Gaz sucked as much as Price when it came to bake.

- Entrusted with the delicate task of preparing the crème au beurre, Gaz inadvertently neglected to secure the mixer's lid.

-Chaos ensued as the cream erupted, spilling on the surroundings.

-Soap tried to stop it, but he slipped on the floor.

-Gaz couldn't see because of the cream, and John was looking at them reconsidering his life's chouce.

-Obviously, you decided to come back home at this moment.

-Yo were greeted by the sight of Gaz adorned in whipped cream, Johnny sprawled on the flour-strewn floor, and John enveloped in a cloud of flour.

-"I...is this a kinky food party, or did I miss something? Because usually, people are naked when they use whipped cream," you quipped.

-"I can explain, love," John offered.

-"Okay, what happened?"

-"I wanted to bake for you."

-"You know I don't need cakes or pastries; that's my job. If I crave a sweet tooth, I have plenty of cakes, honey."

-"I know, but this one was special. It was supposed to be a heart-shaped Paris-Brest."

-"Paris-Brest aren't heart-shaped."

-"Not when they're not employed for confessions."

-A moment of realization dawned upon you.

-"Fuck, you...you wanted to say 'I love you.'"

-"Yeah, but it's clear I messed up."

-"No, no. I mean, sure, Gaz covered in whipped cream, Johnny on the flour, and walls adorned with flour was not what I pictured, but it's perfect."

-"Good because I don't plan to cover Garrick in whipped cream every time I want to say it."

-A shared chuckle ensued as you joined Gaz and Soap in the aftermath, each contributing to the cleanup while John beamed with contentment.

G A Z :

-He confessed with a vocal.

-After your meeting and your teasing when you found out Gaz listened to your spicy ASMR as a streamer, you noticed him.

-He was a regular, one of the fans who always leave a comment under each post.

-He became more than just a familiar username.

-Your bond deepened as you sought his counsel on scenarios for your streams and videos, a virtual confidant in the ever-expanding realm of online content creation.

-As time unfolded, your relationship transcended the digital realm.

-The spark between you two ignited, an intangible force that fueled your creative musings.

-Swiftly, meetings materialized whenever Gaz found a fleeting moment of respite from his duties.

-When he was on long deployments, you sent him exclusivity audios so he could be distracted from the horror he did or saw, offering a temporary escape from the grim realities he faced.

-Your voice became a comforting melody, a beacon in the darkness, ensuring that Gaz could find solace even amid the harrowing experiences he encountered. 

- In fact you could record yourself spelling a list of grocery and he would find it awesome

-Yet, despite the kisses shared and the intimate moments experienced, Gaz had yet to formally ask you out or declare those three potent words: "I love you."

-One night, as a gentle breeze whispered through the window, he turned to his friend Soap for advice, a hint of embarrassment lingering in his tone.

-"Hey, mate, can I ask for advice?" he queried, his eyes seeking guidance from Soap.

-"Sure," Soap responded, welcoming the opportunity to lend an ear.

-"How... would you confess to someone you've been flirting with for months?" Gaz inquired, his apprehension palpable.

-"Tell them," Soap replied matter-of-factly.

-"No shit, I wanted something special. They're... they're awesome, and I really want to make the thing memorable, you know?"

-Soap smirked, teasing Gaz.

-A playful shoulder bump ensued as Gaz protested, "Shut up, mate. I just... I feel like they're the right person, you know? I mean, they saw me during my lowest moments, and for people like us, it's hard sometimes to find those who can handle a lover with PTSD."

-"Yeah, I feel that," Soap acknowledged. "Well, maybe use your first meeting or something they love. If they're into soccer, bring them to a big match and confess during it."

-"But, you know, during a match, everyone screams? It's kinda dumb."

-Soap paused.

-Gaz looked at him.

-"Well, it sounded like a good idea at that time."

-Gaz's eyes widened. "Wait, you did that?"

-"Listen, it seemed like a good idea."

-"Oh my gosh, what happened?"

-"She didn't understand what I said and answered, 'You're such a good friend.'"

-"Damn."

-"But it doesn't mean it'll be the same for you."

-"I know. I just think about things they love. I... can't confess by ASMR, honestly. It'll be cringe."

-"Maybe send an audio? No need for ASMR," Soap suggested.

-"Yeah," Gaz agreed.

-As Gaz found himself in his room, armed with his phone and ready to send a heartfelt audio message, he hesitated.

-The recorded voice sounded foreign and awkward to him, far from the eloquence he envisioned.

-Discouraged, he abandoned the attempt.

- Upon his return from deployment, sensing your unusual behavior, he confronted you about it.

-"You... sent me a vocal, but it only said 'Fuck you,' so I didn't know if I did something or not," you confessed, puzzled by the unexpected message.

-Gaz paused, the realization dawning upon him. He had forgotten to delete a frustrated attempt at confessing that slipped through the cracks.

-"No, it was not against you. I... I tried to do something, but I messed up. So I was mad at myself, and at the same time, I was recording a vocal for you," he admitted, vulnerability coloring his words.

-"Can I ask what was this thing?" you inquired, curiosity dancing in your eyes.

-"I... gear. I couldn't take off my gear," he lied, attempting to divert the conversation.

-"You're a bad liar," you chuckled.

-"Okay, I wanted to confess to you. And I tried to record something like you do, but it sounded horrible."

-"You know you could have texted?" you suggested with a playful smile.

-"Yes, I... I didn't think about it. I was so focused on voices and the perfect confession."

-"I reciprocate, if you ever wonder," you reassured him.

-A smile broke across Gaz's face as he squeezed your hands, grateful for the understanding that transcended words.

S O A P :

-He confessed by drawings.

-After drawing you like Gollum because you flustered him, Soap, determined to prove his artistic prowess, pursued every opportunity to capture your essence on paper.

- Despite attending each modeling session and receiving your compliments, he couldn't quite capture the nuances—those wrinkles when you smiled, the sparkle when you ate, the delicate mole that graced your visage.

-Unyielding, he embarked on a mission of his own, drawing you ceaselessly between military duties, on the pages of his diary, and during leaves.

-Training, a familiar concept to a soldier, became his artistic discipline.

-You willingly played muse.

-The drawing sessions evolving into intimate conversations, forging a connection that extended beyond artistry.

-As your bond deepened, so did Soap's frustration.

- The elusive perfection he sought in his drawings continued to elude him, and he longed to express his feelings through his sketches.

- One day, returning to your darkened apartment, you discovered a trail of candles illuminating your path.

- Recognizing Soap's expertise with fire and explosives, you followed the flickering lights until the room burst into brightness.

-There, on the wall, an intricately arranged collection of sketches painted a portrait of your shared moments—coffee spills, date nights, and more.

-Overwhelmed by the domestic warmth of the scene, you couldn't help but murmur, "Shit, it's so cute."

-"I hope so, because I love you, baby. I want these sketches to continue, to wake up to you every morning, to draw you, to see you, to kiss you," Johnny confessed, closing the distance between you.

-A tender embrace and a heartfelt kiss followed. "I love you too."

-"Good, because it would have been hard if you said you hate me after I spent five hours gluing these sketches," Soap admitted, a playful smile gracing his face.

-Laughter filled the room, echoing the joy of two hearts entwined in love.

G H O S T :

-He confessed with a monkey wrench.

-You were tired.

-The life of a mechanic on the base demanded a toll, and today, that toll felt almost unbearable.

- Fatigue etched lines on your face as you toiled among the clattering tools, your hands weaving intricate dances of repair.

- The camaraderie with your coworkers, usually a source of solace, had soured into an unbearable weight on your shoulders.

-Amidst the clinks and clanks, a sudden snap echoed through the air, drawing attention like an unwelcome spotlight.

-Your favorite monkey wrench, a faithful companion in countless repairs, lay shattered in your hands.

-A surge of frustration coursed through you, and against all reason, tears welled in your eyes.

- It was an odd vulnerability, shedding tears over a broken tool, but the accumulation of stress had reached a breaking point.

-Then, there he was—Simon, the enigmatic connection born from his bad driving skills and your repairing of his vehicles.

- Your eyes met, and the vulnerability you felt intensified.

-"Don't pity me, please," you whispered, a plea tinged with embarrassment.

-"I don't pity you, love," Simon responded, his voice a balm to your wounded spirit.

- He knelt beside you, his presence a comforting anchor in the chaos of the workshop.

-"I... I must look ridiculous?" you stammered, seeking reassurance.

-"No, you look quite stunning crying on the dirty floor with a broken monkey wrench," he teased, a glimmer of humor in his eyes.

- Your tears mingled with laughter, a cathartic release in the midst of chaos.

-"Yeah?" you asked, a hint of uncertainty lingering.

-"Yeah," he affirmed, his gaze sincere.

 -"Then Soap is the most stunning with his mohawk full of mud."

-"Hm, he can't beat you with your grease on the cheek," Simon remarked, using his gloved hand to wipe away a smudge.

-A quiet settled between you, broken only by the sound of tools and distant chatter.

-Simon extended his hands, a silent offer of support, and you accepted, rising from the dirt-strewn floor.

-"Thanks for... being here," you said, gratitude coloring your words.

-"I'm not always here, love," Simon admitted, a touch of vulnerability in his gaze.

-"But you're here when it counts, Simon. That's all that matters to me," you confessed, and with those words, you retreated to the solitude of your barracks.

-As you left, Simon watched you, and in that moment, an unfamiliar warmth enveloped him.

- It was the realization that he was enough—enough to be there for you, enough to be loved.

-The following day, a surprise awaited you in the form of a brand-new monkey wrench.

-A note accompanied it, bearing Simon's distinctive scrawl: "I hope to buy you more in the future."

- A subtle promise, a declaration beyond words.

- You smiled, for you understood—it was more than a tool.

-It was the promise of a connection that transcended the clangor of the workshop, a sentiment that spoke of a desire for something deeper. And for you, that was more than enough.

K E E G A N :

-He confessed with Happy Meals.

-After all, it was how you met. Keegan ordered 20 happy meals, and you were a worker for McDonalds.

-( Even though you began to write an essay about how happy meals and military men seem to be an issue)

- Keegan and you became close.

-Since you saw him each night during his leave after your shift.

-At first, it was because some teenagers were here, threatening the employees after their shift, so Keegan proposed his help.

-And after that, driving you back home became a routine when he was on leave.

-And when one night you decided to ask him to drop you somewhere else, and it ended up being a restaurant, he realized you were asking a date subtly.

-Slowly, it became flirtatious.

-Even though you still didn't know how he could flirt when you were covered in grease-smelling potatoes.

-But Keegan had rizz even at 1 AM.

-He could say the more cheesy lines while you're covered in cheddar and coke.

-That's why he wanted to confess in a cool way, the same way, his flirt could make you smile through the worst shift.

-At first, he thought of a Happy meal where the toy could be a letter saying "I love you" with a selfie of you two.

-But he wanted something fun, as fun as when Ghost ordered 40 Happy Meals just to have all the skeleton toys.

-So during one of his missions, he used his phone and ordered food for your flat.

-Surprised, you opened the door to the delivery guy, saying you hadn't ordered anything. But you noticed it had your name on it.

-You sighed and took the bags.

-The 4 bags.

-Which surprised you because, hell, you won't eat all of that.

-And then you opened the bag to see happy meals.

-20 happy meals. Like Keegan used to order.

-You chuckled.

-It was a good prank.

-You sent him a text.

-"Okay, good one, I'll take revenge, I swear"

-But then you notice the Happy Meal is empty.

-Except for one who had a little toy.

-A heart toy.

-You squeezed it like it said on it

-And the little toy spoke with a horrible voice. "I love you".

-The cheesy smile you had when you realized it.

-"fuck, you got rizz even miles away, uh ?"you texted.

- "of course" he answered.

-"well, Mr Rizz, I can't send you Happy Meals, but I love you too."

-"thanks, love"

R U D Y :

-He confessed with books. 

-After meeting Rudy in the library and realizing he was one of the few readers following your books. You ended up meeting with him when he was on leave so he could be your beta reader.

-He was a good help, he was not always saying "good", he had good remarks and ideas.

-He was the one bringing coffee during your late writing sessions.

-Even when duty called him away on missions, he sent texts 

-Texts traversed the ether, connecting your worlds despite the miles that separated you.

-In response, handwritten letters, carefully penned with the knowledge of his penchant for tangible memories, sailed back to him, becoming anchors of shared moments in his turbulent sea of duty.

-Thanks to his comments and ratings on sites, you slowly became more famous as an author, and you now live by it.

-Yet one day when you were writing, you were searching for one of the books you wanted to inspire your fight scene for, but...

-"I didn't order my library like that," you whispered.

-Your books, usually standing sentinel in perfect alignment, bore witness to an intrusion—an inexplicable disorder. 

-But you had this habit of putting in order books in a certain way. But it seemed someone messed it up.

-And it would be so strange for a stalker to just break into someone's house in order to...mess up their library ?

-What kind of shitty villain could do that ?

-You sighed.

 -The only one who could come in  your flat is Rudy, and it couldn't be Rudy since the guy was kind of obsessive with it too.

-Not a soldier for nothing, after all, being clean is part of it. 

-His library was impressive, he even gave advice to his local library about archives.

-So slowly, you pulled out one book, in order to put it back where it was supposed to be.

-You sighed, knowing it would take your night to do all the books.

-Until you noticed it.

-The letters.

-The first letters of each title were aligned.

-You stepped back, and you rode it.

-"I love you"

-You bite your lips and smiled.

-'Fucking idiot", you whispered, and you sent him a selfie with you and the books aligned.

-"Me too." you had texted.

-"I had thought you would never find it."

-"What do you mean ?"

-"It's been six months, it's like that."

-"What, no"

-"si."

-"Fuck, you-"

-"I thought you didn't want to address it before I realized you just haven't seen it."

-"I'm so sorry; fuck, you must have been stressed."

-"Not really"

-False. He cried to Alejandro one month after he did it, and you didn't answer. But you would never know that.

-"Well, now you know it's reciprocated."

-"Thanks, love"

-"Have a good night, honey".

He smiled. It'll definitely be a good night, now he knows you said I love you.

If you want more : my COD masterlist

And my whole masterlist

#call of duty x reader #cod x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #ghost simon riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #rudy x reader #rudy parra x reader #keegan russ x reader

[konigsblog]

A concept: gamer 141? 🤔

I would imagine Gaz or Soap would be big gamer

streamer-gaz & soap that get blowjobs and handjobs by their darling ... :3

you're so cruel when you sneak under the table, fiddling with their sweatpants, just out of camera from the viewers. gaz will look down, eyes wide, trying to hide whatever's happening and pretending nothing is going on beneath his desk and between his thighs.

he'll have to speak just a little louder, to drown out your sloppy noises, how you gurgle and suckle around his wet, slick length, sucking his dick and giggling quietly on when he holds back and suppresses his deep groans, and breathless moans.

johnny wants you underneath his desk, on all fours, your ass in the air and fucking yourself back against his thick, fat cock. he's on the edge of his seat, watching you pop off his dick, getting him covered in slick and drool so you're ready to take him deep. bouncing your ass back and biting your lip, face down as he grabs your ass firmly, pushing deep into you while playing on stream.

they're both great streamers.

gamer-simon has found you using his controller as a vibrator one too many times, so that your scent is always with him. :(

#orla speaks #gaz cod #gaz modern warfare #gaz call of duty #kyle garrick x reader #sergeant garrick #kyle garrick cod #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz mw2 #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish fanfic #soap mactavish smut #soap x reader #soap x reader smut #soap x y/n #soap x you #johnny mactavish #john mactavish #john mactavish x reader