I'm a twenty-somethin' fic author who has too many hobbies and far too much time on her hand. I post multi-fandom, but most of my works are Call of Duty.
Please make sure to read tags/ratings on fics. I have a mix of ratings, some of which are MDNI!
Feel free to check out my AO3 (It tends to be better up to date than my Tumblr!)
cw: ghostgaz bloodied bleeding blood broken nose make up session turned smut (blow job) they like it rough. They're disgusting and need to be put in a jar and shaken up
Ghost watched Gaz go down.
The elbow came in fast and low and caught him across the bridge of the nose. The sound made the room wince and the fighter stood over him, eyes wide, looking like he'd just committed a war crime.
Ghost clocked the set up long before the elbow. Gaz had walked into it deliberately, pushing to see if the kid would commit, and the kid had committed beautifully.
Good.
Gaz got up slowly. Blood running freely, over his lip, down his chin, dripping onto his shirt. He pressed the back of his hand to it, looked at the blood with mild interest, and then looked at the fighter.
"Nice elbow," Gaz said.
The fighter blinked. "Sergeant?"
"Write it down. That's the one." He clapped the kid on the shoulder and turned.
He turned and headed directly toward Ghost, blood running down his chin and not bothering to stop it.
Heat settled low in Ghost's gut. Gaz was walking toward him like that, blood on his lip, on his shirt, chin up, easy and unhurried, performing for an audience of one and they both knew it.
Ghost balled his hands into fists, let out a low exhale.
Gaz stopped close. Looked up at him with dark eyes and a half-smirk.
"Like what you see, Lieutenant?"
Ghost looked down him. The broken nose swelling. Blood tracking down over his mouth, his jaw, dripping off his chin onto his collar.
"You walked into that," Ghost said.
"Mm." Gaz's eyes were warm. "Did I."
Ghost reached up and pulled his mask up over his nose.
Behind him Soap made a sharp little tease, and Ghost kissed him.
Gaz's mouth was warm and tasted like blood and he kissed back immediately, one hand finding Ghost's chest. Ghost felt the wet of it against his own lip, Gaz's blood transferring to his mouth, his jaw. He kissed him through it, unhurried, and someone behind them whistled long and low. Ghost stopped when he was ready, pulled back and held Gaz's chin between his thumb and forefinger.
Gaz looked pleased and wrecked. A fresh run of blood tracked down his chin.
Ghost's thumb moved across his jaw, came away red.
"Medical," Ghost said.
"I'm fine."
"You're bleeding on my shirt."
Gaz looked down at his own chest, feigned innocence. "Your shirt?"
"Kyle."
Gaz paused at the tone. It was Ghost's turn to smile.
"Yeah, alright."
They made it ten feet down the corridor before Ghost steered him sideways through a door.
A dark closet filled with cleaning supplies and old equipment.
Ghost pulled the door shut and pressed Gaz back against the shelving and kissed him again, properly this time, deep and slow, and tasted the iron the whole way through it.
Gaz moaned against his mouth and grabbed his jacket with both hands and pulled him in. Ghost's hands moved across his chest, his ribs, the warm skin at his waist where his shirt had ridden up.
Gaz's head dropped back against the shelf.
"Been waiting to do that?" Gaz teases, breathless.
"Mm."
"Fuck."
"I know." Ghost kissed his jaw, the side of his throat, felt Gaz's pulse under his mouth.
Kyle tilts his head back down "You're smug about it."
"You like it."
Gaz laughed low and Ghost kissed him again, hands sliding under his shirt. Gaz stopped laughing and stopped talking and pulled Ghost closer by the back of his neck.
Ghost pulled away. Watched to make sure Gaz could breathe.
"Simon—"
"I know."
Then he was back on him, lips as his neck. Hands wrestling with the belt.
Gaz breathed through is mouth, quiet, breathy pulls of air. Then a groan as Ghost finally got his hand on him.
Ghost watches Gaz's face as he lowers to his knees. The blood on his mouth, the crooked split in his nose. Those eyes blinking down at him through wet lashes.
Ghost licked a stripe over the Gaz's stomach and patch of fur lower, leaving a stripe of blood and saliva up his stomach. He strokes Gaz to hardness, the roughness of his glove making Gaz clamp a whine down between his teeth.
Ghost took the head of Gaz's cock into his mouth. Closing his eyes to savor the salt, iron, and headiness mixing on his tongue. Gaz's hand came down, squeezing hard on his shoulder.
Ghost took him all the way down to the base. Gaz's knees shook. Ghost was relentless, tongue swirling as he came away only to swallow him down again.
Ghost worked greedily, Gaz clamping down down moans between opened mouth panting. And Ghost was rewarded for his efforts. Gaz came with a groan, his salty spend hot over Ghost's tongue and down his throat.
Ghost pulled away slowly. Care in the place of his satiated hunger. He let Gaz stand still, did the careful work of packing him away and putting his pants on properly.
Ghost stood slowly, watching Gaz's face with every breath until his eyes opened.
"You're fuckin' filthy." Gaz smiled.
Ghost smirked, cupped the back of his head. Kissed him again, slower now, more mindful of his nose than before.
"Medical." He said when he pulled away.
Gaz leaned forward against his shoulder. "Yeah... Medical."
ain't no sunshine - cod edit
flash warning for quick cuts!
wonder this time where she's gone. wonder if she's gone to stay...
ain't no sunshine when she's gone
and this house just ain't no home. anytime she goes away.
Going to be adjusting my master list some today so if there's any weirdness/spaminess, I apologize in advance! Wanted to add a little intro page to my blog and now it's turned into a whole thing. 😂
Just realized that I have not posted 8 chapters of my MHA series 🙃 Think I'm going to be giving that series some love this week and scheduling the chapters to post one chapter a day so that I'm not blowing you all up. 💜 Good gravy, I did not realize how far behind I was with it.
Ghost x Female Reader x (Choose Your Own Character) | Word Count: ~4.8k
Rating and Warnings: E for explicit. Restraints, gags, dubious consent, roleplaying, unprotected sex, cum, swallowing cum, blowjobs, double vaginal penetration, creampie
A/N: I know we are nowhere even close to Valentine's Day, but I was moving things from Google Docs to Ellipsus and found this gem like 95% done. Wanted to finish it up and get it out into the world before I forgot about it again, lol. 💜
Had a fun idea for a "write-your-own-adventure" type fic where you get to pick out who the other character is! I did my best to try and keep things as gender neutral as possible when speaking about the other character, but just know that they're dressed up as Ghost.
When Ghost is being referred to in this fic, he/him pronouns are used, but it's more intended for the "character" of Ghost rather than the person's gender. When the person under the mask is being referred to, they/them is used.
So, if you wanted Valeria to be the one under the mask, for example, it should fit in nicely. Heck, you could even had someone from another franchise entirely under the mask, who cares! Had fun writing this up, it was a fun little challenge and I felt like it was a good follow up to "Happy Birthday, Love."
Hope you all enjoy!! 😘💜
AO3 | Masterlist
Simon’s been acting suspicious all week. And not in the usual scary Ghost kind of way.
He’s constantly checking his phone, keeping a sharper eye on you, and sitting just a little straighter than normal. It’s like he’s hardly letting his guard down or giving himself a chance to relax after work.
Normally, you’d chalk it up to the job. Something big happened, and he’s either not ready to talk about it, or he can’t talk about it yet.
But the looming holiday has you thinking differently. Valentine’s Day is just a week away.
He’s planning something, he’s got to be. There’s no way he’s acting like this over nothing. Especially when he’s usually so careful, especially with surprises. Whatever it is, it must be big with how crazy he’s acting.
You decide to keep your concern to yourself, no sense in ruining his fun. And, if it does turn out to be work-related, it’s it like there’s much you could do anyway.
The week flies by. Before you know it, you’re standing in front of the mirror, fixing your hair for the third time. Nerves buzz under your skin as you prep for dinner.
Simon had been nothing but attentive today, waking you up with breakfast in bed and taking you out for some light shopping. He insisted on paying for everything, and casually mentioned he booked a reservation at that nice place downtown.
So far, nothing explains his strange behavior this past week.
If anything, he’s being sweeter than usual, which is just making you more nervous. Something big must be coming and you’re not quite sure how to feel about that.
You’re smoothing down your dress when arms slip around your waist from behind, making you jump.
“Simon,” you laugh softly.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, reaching around you to help put on the necklace he bought for your birthday. “Couldn’t help it.”
His fingers brush your skin as he fastens the clasp, sending a small shiver down your spine.
When he’s done, his hands linger ever so slightly. His eyes trail over your body before catching your own eyes in the mirror.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” you ask with a hint of a laugh in your tone.
“What? Can’t admire my girl?” he replies easily.
You turn around, playfully shoving his arm and sneaking him a quick kiss.
“Behave,” you tease as you sneak out of his grasp.
He huffs slightly. “No promises, love.”
You grab your purse from the living room and meet him at the door.
“Ready?” you ask.
He hesitates, glancing at the house, before nodding. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
Dinner ends up being perfect.
Almost unnervingly so.
Soft candlelight flickers between the two of you and gentle music hums in the background. The restaurant flows with reds and golds, every detail almost sickeningly screaming Valentine’s Day.
You both splurge, getting steak and lobster, and a bunch of appetizers you definitely didn’t need. You share bites of each other’s plates and a bottle of wine.
He’s attentive, feeding you bites of food and finding every excuse to touch you or hold your hand. You’re all smiles and heated cheeks until his phone buzzes.
Almost immediately, his attention gets stolen away from you. He’s pulling it out enough to check the screen, even sending a quick message before shoving it back in your pocket.
A small hint of doubt settles in your stomach.
What if you were wrong? What if it’s not a surprise at all and something’s actually really wrong?
Your smile falters without you realizing it.
Simon notices immediately. He reaches across the table, lacing his finger with yours.
“Hey,” he murmurs. “You alright?”
You give him a quick nod. “Yeah, sorry. Just… spaced out a little.”
He studies you for a moment, thumb brushing over your knuckles.
“Sorry, just had to check on something. Promise I’m yours for the rest of the evenin’.”
You smile politely, feeling some of the weight ease off your chest a bit as you go back to enjoying your night.
By the time you get home, you’re warm and pleasantly giddy from the wine. Not drunk. Just… a bit more relaxed.
His arm is wrapped securely around your waist as he unlocks the door. You lean into him without really thinking about it, his touch making more heat pool in your tummy.
But the moment he opens the door, all light and fluffy feelings are out the window.
It’s dark. It’s never dark.
You always leave on a lamp and some small lights around the house, but now there’s nothing.
You pause. “Simon…?”
He flips the switch, and the overheads turn on, confirming that there wasn’t a power outage. Nothing looks wrong, everything's still in place… so why were the lights turned off?
Unease ripples under you skin, abolishing the heat in your gut.
“Hm…” Simon hums as he steps further into the house.
“That’s not really reassuring,” you quickly whisper to him.
He turns to you, expression suddenly very serious. “Stay close to me,” he says as he slowly pulls out a firearm you didn't even know he had on him.
Your heart stutters and your eyes go wide. He's not fucking around right now. With a quick nod, you're tucking in closer to him as the two of you start making your way through the house.
The living room and kitchen are quickly given the all-clear, but your stomach drops when you reach the hallway.
Light peeks out from under the door frame, making your pulse race.
“That wasn’t on when we left,” you whisper to him.
Your heart hammers as he steps more deliberately in front of you, his broad shoulders shielding you without hesitation. He closes the distance to the door slowly, before carefully opening it up.
At first, it's a bit too bright to see anything. Then, as your eyes catch up, your brain lags to register what you're seeing. There's black against your white sheets, a broad shape lying unnaturally still. A breath later, everything clicks.
There's someone in your bed.
They’re dressed head to toe in tactical gear, every inch of skin covered. When your eyes settle on their face, your heart nearly stops.
It's Ghost.
“Oh my god,” you whisper.
“Well now,” Simon says lightly beside you. Despite his easy tone, you end up slightly jumping.
“Looks like we’ve got ourselves an intruder," he continues, head tilting as he studies the scene before him. “Looks like you fell right into my little trap."
You blink, glancing up at Simon, completely and utterly confused. You look back at the bed and realize that Ghost is restrained. The same stain rope he had used on you for your birthday, is now securing him to the bed. His wrists are connected to the headboard and his ankles have been tied to the bedposts, leaving him completely immobilized.
Your stomach flips at the implication.
Ghost's head turns slowly toward you. Dark lenses now sit in the eye holes, making it impossible to see who's actually behind the mask while also making him seem more soulless than normal.
"Been really worried about you since I found out about your little stalker," Simon continues casually, a hint of amusement in his tone. "So I upped the security a bit. Figured he'd be sniffing around this time of year, and it looks like I was right."
Simon gives you a playful look and everything clicks into place.
Oh.
Oh.
A slow smile spreads across your face as you decide to play alone.
“Oh my,” you breathe, an obvious playfulness to your tone. “You did it. You caught Ghost. Thank goodness.”
You lean over slightly to Simon, dropping your voice. "…So who is that?"
“Does it matter?” he shrugs.
“Yes.”
He smirks.
“It’s Ghost.”
You shoot him a look, making him laugh.
“Relax. No one you wouldn’t approve of. In fact…” He pauses. “Pretty sure you’ve mentioned more than once that you’re rather fond of them.”
Heat rushes to your cheeks. You know exactly who he means.
“Has…” you hesitate. “Has he been here the whole time?”
Simon shakes his head.
“No. Had some help. Didn’t want you spoiling the surprise.” He taps his pocket lightly. “That’s who I was texting.”
Relief and clarity wash over your body as a week's worth of nerves leaves you. “That… makes so much more sense now.”
“He’s also gagged,” Simon adds casually.
You blink, head whipping over to Ghost. “Huh?”
“Didn’t want them ruining the immersion,” he explains. “Or talking back.”
You stare at him for a second, before barking out a laugh.
“Simon,” you say breathlessly. “You thought of everything, didn’t you?”
He steps closer, slipping an arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest. His eyes darken as they meet yours.
“Always,” he murmurs. “Happy Valentine’s Day, love. Hope this was a good surprise.”
Your chest warms.
“It is,” you say softly. “Can’t believe you kidnapped someone for me, though.”
“Technically,” he corrects, turning slightly toward the bed, “he broke in.”
He gestures vaguely. “My security measures just happened to lead to him being tied up in your bed.”
He leans down and presses a kiss to your temple. "And lets not act surprised that I'd kidnap anyone you asked me to," he adds quietly.
That sentence should terrify you, but you find yourself all but melting into him instead.
“Can they at least breathe?” you ask, suddenly concerned.
Simon laughs again. “Yes, and they’ve got a clicker in their hand, so if they need anything, they can signal us.”
You glance at the restrained figure, and sure enough, there’s a small device in one of the gloved hands.
"How long have they been here? Was there a way for—"
Simon steps into your space, cutting off your rambling. "Love, they're fine. Had someone watching them and they left through the window when we walked in. Now, what's say you enjoy your present, hm?"
You had more questions, but the look Simon was giving you had you biting your tongue.
Instead, you nod. "Okay, okay."
He releases you and takes a step back. "Go on then," he murmurs, nodding towards the bed. "Have some fun."
You swallow, nerves starting to buzz under your skin again as you turn to face your Valentine's Day present.
“I, uh… Where do I start?”
His lips curve into a slow, dangerous smirk.
“Well,” he says quietly, eyes roaming over you, “that depends on you, love.”
He leans in, voice dropping. “I was thinking we teach your little stalker a lesson. Have a bit of fun. Get him back for tying you up on your birthday.”
His thumb brushes along your hip. “But it’s your call,” he tilts his head. “What do you think?”
You don’t answer right away, eyes drifting back to the figure on the bed. When you look back at Simon, his gaze is hungry as he waits on you.
A small smirk tugs at your lips.
“Well,” you murmur thoughtfully, “he did scare me a little.”
Simon hums. “Mm. Unacceptable.”
“And,” you add, glancing at the restraints, “he is technically trespassing.”
“Criminal offense,” Simon agrees.
You bite your lip, pretending to consider. “So… maybe he deserves a punishment?”
“That so?” Simon murmurs into your hair, giving the top of your head a kiss.
You nod slowly. “I think so.”
He hums. “Good girl.”
Heat floods your face and your core at the praise.
“I, um… I don’t really know how to do this though,” you admit.
“‘S alright. How ‘bout this… why don’t you get undressed, show me that sexy number I know you’ve got on under there and then crawl up on top of him. I’ll take my time exploring the new piece you’ve got on while you take your time with him, yeah?”
You swallow hard, but nod.
Simon's fingers trail down your spine, before moving to help you with your zipper. Your outfit is on the floor in record time, showing off the new set you’d thought you had kept a good enough secret.
Apparently not.
His eyes darken as they land on your newly exposed skin.
“Christ,” he breathes. “There she is.”
He leans in, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. Then your collarbone. Then the side of your neck, lingering there just long enough to make your knees weak.
His hands slide to your waist, giving you a firm squeeze before he gently spins your around to face the bed.
“Go on,” he murmurs. “Get up there.”
Your heart hammers as you approach the bed. You climb up, kneeling beside the masked figure, suddenly aware of how exposed you feel.
Simon moves closer behind you. One hand settles at the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair, tilting your head just enough to get your attention.
“Remember,” he says softly, “you’re in charge. He’s here for you.”
You glance back, finding Simon already shirtless, eyes fixated on you. They’re hungry, watching every move, waiting to see what you do.
The sight sends a rush of confidence through you.
You turn your attention back to Ghost. Your hands lift, hesitating for only a moment before they slowly trace over his gear.
It’s pockets are empty of the normally lethal items that would be there, but he’s sporting all of his gear nonetheless.
You move to straddle his legs taking in the sight of him laid out like a dangerous-looking buffet in front of you.
Where do you even start? The possibilities are endless.
His dark lenses follow your movements, watching you from behind the skull mask.
Biting your lip, you decide to start with the utility belt. Unbuckling it slowly, you pull it away from his hips and set it aside, giving you better access to his jacket.
You take your time, slipping your hands beneath it, discovering a fitted shirt underneath. It feels suspiciously familiar.
“Is this the gym shirt I really like?” you giggle.
Simon huffs softly behind you. “Maybe.”
You smile and slide your hand under the fabric, enjoying the warmth and solid muscle beneath your touch.
You hum quietly, pleased, before letting your hands wander lower, fingers settling on the waistband of his pants.
“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” Simon asks, voice low.
“Yeah,” you admit with a small smile. “He normally doesn’t let me explore like this. He’s usually just so rough with me.”
Simon chuckles. “Nice change of pace, having the bloke put in his place, hm?”
You glance at him over your shoulder. “Very.”
You hum as you tug down Ghost’s pants, careful not to tug too far, wanting to play into the idea of not knowing who’s beneath the mask. You come face to face with your gift for the evening. Straining against a pair of Simon’s boxer briefs is Ghost’s cock.
You smile as your hand runs over it, making the figure below you buck up into your hand.
“Oh, he’s already so hard for me,” you murmur. “You like being tied up, don’t you? Watching me get all ready for you?”
Ghost bucks again, desperate for more friction.
You turn to Simon. “Can I take it out? Please?”
He gives you a slow nod. “Of course, love.”
You reach through the slit in the boxers, and pull out Ghost's cock. It seems to spring out, making you giggle.
“Someone’s eager,” you murmur.
You trace the shape of his cock with your fingers, loving the way he seems to arch into your touch.
Simon watches for a bit longer before stepping closer to the bed. His hands find your hips, and he leans in, his breath hot against your ear.
“Why don’t you taste him?” he suggests.
You hum in agreement. Leaning down, you press a soft kiss to the tip of Ghost’s cock, before your tongue darts out for a quick lick. The resulting grunt from beneath the mask is muffled but very clearly there.
Your confidence builds as you take him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head. You begin to move, finding a slow, steady rhythm, on hand holding the base of his cock, the other braced on his thick thigh.
You hear Simon’s belt unbuckling, the soft rustle of denim hitting the floor. A moment later, the mattress dips behind you, and you feel the warmth of his bare skin against your back.
His hands are firm on your hips, guiding you just how he wants you.
“Just like that,” he praises as you take Ghost deeper. “Look at you. So good for us.”
His praise sends a thrill through you. You moan around Ghost’s length, the vibration making him jolt.
One of Simon’s hands slides down, fingers ghosting over your soaked folds. You push back against him instinctively, a silent invitation.
He chuckles, a low rumble that you feel more than you hear. "Greedy thing, aren't you?"
His thumb finds your clit, circling it slowly. You gasp, rhythm faltering as pleasure shoots through you.
"Don't stop," Simon commands, his voice firm. "Looks like he's enjoying himself."
You glance up at Ghost's masked face. The dark lenses seem to be fixed on you, watching your every move as Simon plays with you from behind. The power dynamic is intoxicating.
You redouble your efforts, taking Ghost as deep as you can while Simon's fingers work their magic. The dual sensations are overwhelming, a perfect storm of pleasure. You can feel yourself getting closer, the coil in your stomach tightening as Simon strokes over your clit.
You pull back for a breath, a string of saliva connecting your lips to Ghost's cock. You look over your shoulder at Simon, pupils blown wide.
"Simon," you breathe.
"Yes, love?"
"I want…" you trail off, suddenly a bit shy to admit it out loud.
He smirks, knowing exactly what you want. "Can't help you if you don't tell me."
You swallow. "I want you to fuck me," you all but whisper.
His eyes darken. "While you suck him off?"
You nod, bitting your lip. "Please?"
"Alright," he agrees easily. "You're in control. If that's what you want, that's what you'll get."
Warmth blooms in your chest at his words. He's quick to line himself up with your entrance, teasing you briefly as he runs his cock through your folds, opening you up for him. He sinks into you in one smooth thrust. You cry out, the feeling of being so full, of being sandwiched between them, is almost too much.
Simon sets a steady pace, each thrust pushing Ghost's cock further down your throat. The room fills with the sounds of skin on skin, your muffled moans, and the occasional strangled sound from Ghost's tied form.
You're lost in it, a haze of pure sensation.
"Fuck," you whine, pulling off from Ghost's cock for a moment. "Do… do you thin he can go another round if I make him come?"
Simon's pace doesn't falter, though his grip on your hips tightens. "He'll do whatever we want him to, love. He's got no other choice tonight."
A thrill runs through you at the thought, you've never had this much power over someone before.
"They knew what they were signing up for," he adds softer. "Don't worry, love. Just enjoy yourself."
You lean back down, taking Ghost in your mouth once more. You're more determined this time, using your tongue and hand in tandem, intent on pushing Ghost over the edge.
It doesn't take long. A few more strokes, a few more moans against his cock, and Ghost is coming with a muffled shout, his release spilling down your throat.
You swallow every drop, licking him clean before pulling away. You turn your attention back to Simon, who's watching you with a look of pure, unadulterated lust.
"Good girl," he praises, picking up the pace. "Now it's your turn."
His movements become more erratic, more desperate. He's chasing his own release now, and he's determined to take you with him. His fingers find your clit again, rubbing tight, fast circles in the way he knows makes you see stars.
You come with a cry, walls clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.
"Simon. Oh fuck, Simon," you cry out. Your vision nearly white out from how intense the pleasure it.
Simon follows right after you with a low groan, burying himself deep inside you as his release shoots through you. He partially collapses on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight.
For a moment, the two of you stay like that. A tangled, sweaty mess of limbs. The only sounds in the room are your ragged breaths and blood pounding in your ears.
Then, a soft click breaks through everything, making you freeze.
Simon lifts his head, looking toward the bed. Ghost has the clicker in his hand, looking at the two of you.
"Right," Simon mutters, pushing himself up. "Hang on."
He pulls out gently, making you wince at the sudden emptiness. He undoes the ropes, freeing Ghost from his restraints. The figure sits up slowly, rolling their shoulders and wrists.
You bite your lower lip, arousal flaring again as your watch Ghost readjust. "You okay?" you ask, checking in. As much as you'd love to jump them again, you still want to make sure they're okay first.
Ghost gives a slow nod in response, looking from Simon to you. They tilt their head slightly, almost mimicking the way Simon does and it sends a chill down your spine.
"You look like you're ready for more," Simon comments a bit smugly.
You nod, cheeks heating some. "Maybe…"
He smirks, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. "Greedy girl."
Then he turns to Ghost.
"Your turn to please our girl," he says simply.
Ghost shifts, leaning back on the pillows before patting his lap in invitation. You let out a small whine and crawl over, already so desperate for more.
Simon chuckles at you, watching as you get yourself situation in Ghost's lap. He's already hard again, so you waste no time aligning him up with your dripping entrance and sink down onto him with a satisfied sigh.
"That's it," Simon encourages from beside you. "Ride him, love."
You set a slow pace, lifting almost all the way off before sinking back down slowly, wanting to savor this. Each movement is deliberate, making his cock drag against your walls.
From this angle, you have a perfect view of Ghost. Even with the mask on, you can feel the intensity of his gaze. His gloved hands come to rest on your thighs, gripping tightly.
"Looks like he wants to touch your properly," Simon observes, his voice a low murmur in your ear. "You want that?"
You nod, picking up your pace slightly.
"Then you better tell him he can," Simon says. "He's waiting for your order."
Your confidence surges. You lean forward, breasts pressing against Ghost's chest as you bring your lips close to where his ear should be.
"Touch me, Ghost. Make me feel good… please," you tell him with a slight whine.
Immediately, his hands are on you. The rough texture of the gloves sends a new wave of pleasure through you. One hand slides up your back, holding you close, while the other snakes between your bodies, finding your clit.
You cry out, head falling back. You're already so close again, but can't seem to find it in yourself to be mad about it. Your body winds tighter and tighter as the sounds leaving your mouth go up and up in octave.
"That's it," Simon encourages, as he watches you thighs tremble. "Look at you, so close. Go ahead and let go, love. Come all over his cock."
The command is your undoing. You shatter easily, a loud cry tearing from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you. Your whole body convulses, walls fluttering around Ghost now.
As you start to come down from your high, Simon leans in, mouthing at your neck. "Good girl," he says in that deep, sultry voice Ghost normally has. "Think you can give me a couple more, yeah, love?"
You whimper, staring at Ghost's mask while he talks. It's like he's the one behind the mask again. You muster up some quick nods, making Ghost click his tongue at you.
"Nuh-uh, sweet girl," comes Ghost's voice. "You know to use your words."
"Puh-please," you say, a bit of shakiness in your tone. "I want to come on your cock, Ghost."
Ghost's dark chuckle fills your ears. "Atta girl."
Simon gives your temple a quick kiss before he nods at Ghost, who resumes his attention on your clit.
Simon repositions himself, moving behind you and grabbing your hips. He helps to guide you into a faster, more demanding rhythm. The bed creeks in protest, the sound mingling with your breathless moans and the soft grunts from below you.
You're lost in a haze of pleasure, your mind blank and your body a live wire for pleasure. You're aware of everything and nothing all at once. The rough slide of Ghost's gloves against your skin, the solid weight of Simon at your back, the overwhelming fullness of being stretched around a thick cock.
"You look so fucking beautiful like this," Simon says, voice strained with desire. "Riding him. Taking what you want. So fuckin' hot."
His words are like an aphrodisiac, fueling the already burning fire within you.
The two work on wringing out a few more orgasms out of you, before Simon pulls you off of Ghost's still-hard cock. He gently shushes you as you protest.
"Easy, easy now," he coos. "Just going to reposition you.
He moves you so your back is to his chest, and you're sitting in his lap. With some maneuvering, he's entering you while Ghost hovers in front of both of you.
Simon helps keep your legs spread. "Think you can take both of us, love?" he growls into your ear.
You clench around him with a whine, making him chuckle.
"Is that a yes?" he asks playfully.
"Y-yes," you pant out, looking at Ghost with wide, desperate eyes. "Want you both at the same time."
Ghost is quick to position himself between your legs. With Simon's encouragement over your shoulder, Ghost pushes into you.
A primal moan tears from your throat as the two stretch you so wide it's almost painful. Any discomfort you feel quickly melds into pleasure as Ghost seats himself into you.
The grunt of pleasure from behind Ghost's mask has you tightening around the both of them. They give you a moment to adjust, before Simon lightly thrusts into you. Ghost follows his lead, synchronizing his movements to match Simon's.
It's overwhelming, a delicious fullness that's cut off all thoughts and has you teetering on the edge of another orgasm almost immediately.
Ghost's pace increases, become almost relentless. Each thrust is deeper, serving to both hit the spot inside of you that you love, but also to grind Simon's cock against you.
"Look at you," comes Ghost's voice again, but far more breathless. "Taking both of us so well. Such a good girl for us, aren't you?"
"Yuh… yes…" you pant between your whines.
Ghost's gloved hands grip your thighs, holding you open for them. His masked face is inches from yours, and you can feel the intensity of his gaze despite the barrier.
"C-close," you whimper, body trembling with the effort of holding back.
Simon's response is to increase his pace, each thrust aiming for that sweet spot inside of you. "Then come for us, love. Come all over our cocks."
You shatter with a small scream. You feel both of them twitch inside of you, chasing their own releases. It's not much longer before they find it. Simon lightly bites your shoulder to muffle his groan. Ghost's hips stutter as you're filled with the warmth of their combined releases.
You're boneless, a complete and utter mess of pleasure as they both hold you. Simon is the first to move, gently pulling out and easing you down on the bed next to him. Ghost follows, tucking himself behind you, sandwiching you between them.
It's quiet for a while, just the three of you breathing. Simon's hand moves to rest on your hip, giving it a light squeeze.
"You alright, love? Wasn't too much?" he asks, voice soft.
You manage a weak nod and shake of your head. "Was perfect."
He chuckles. "Good." Then he lifts his head, addressing the figure behind you.
"She'll want you to hold her," he says.
Ghost seems not to need to be told twice. He maneuvers you until you're curled up against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder.
Simon disappears for a moment, before returning with a damp wash cloth to wipe you up with. When he's done, he settles back in on your other side, pulling the covers over the three of you.
"Best Valentine's Day ever," you mumble, already half-asleep.
Simon laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Glad you think so, love."
PREV - "Happy Birthday, Love"
A/N: What did we think? Did we like that?? Better yet, who did you put under the mask? 👀 I tried to keep the language open enough to where non-penile characters could be included and I think it worked out, but if not, let me know, I'd be happy to adjust. Was trying to keep it ambiguous enough that the person playing Ghost could be wearing a strap-on and it would hopefully still work.
Who did I have in mind while I was writing this...? Everyone, haha! 💜 At one point, read this and had Valeria in mind, another time, it was Gaz. Felt like it helped to get the story where I wanted by switching it up ahaha.
Hope you all enjoyed, again sorry for the random timing, but I completely forgot about this and just wanted to post it!
Going to be adjusting my master list some today so if there's any weirdness/spaminess, I apologize in advance! Wanted to add a little intro page to my blog and now it's turned into a whole thing. 😂
Simon doesn't break into Kyle's place because he has a key. He's invited. Kyle said so.
"Help yourself," he'd said. "Anytime, mi casa es su casa."
So Simon let's himself in at 2am to eat the leftovers he'd been to polite to tell Kyle he'd wanted for himself, only to find Kyle standing in front of his open fridge, scarfing them down as fast as he can.
A/N: My submission for the 141 Pride Writing Event. I got lucky enough to get the "Wedding" trope. Price and Nikolai have always been married in my mind, so I thought I'd write up what their wedding might be like. Happy Pride, everyone! 💜
AO3 | Masterlist
Soap was already in a mood by the time he and Gaz pulled into the venue parking lot.
"This is ridiculous," he muttered, climbing out of the truck and staring at the sprawling countryside estate in front of them. Warm lights glowed from the windows, soft music drifting across the gardens. "Expected Price to have his retirement party in some pub, not a bloody palace."
Gaz shut the door beside him. "You're just grumpy that you had to wear something besides your civvies and that Ghost wouldn't come with you."
Soap scoffed. "Am no' grumpy."
"You called him a 'feckin dickhead' four times on the drive over."
"He is a feckin' dickhead."
Gaz grinned. "Right. So am I not good enough company anymore?"
That got a laugh out of Soap. He shoved Gaz's shoulder as they headed toward the entrance. "You're tolerable at best."
Gaz goes to make a retort as they step inside, but his words die on his tongue.
The place was somehow even more absurd than it looked from the outside.
Candles flickered across every surface, casting a warm light over massive arrangements of white flowers. The music they'd heard outside turned out to be a live string quartet that was tucked into the corner of the room.
Soap stopped walking altogether.
"Gaz."
"Yeah?"
"Why the fuck does Price's retirement party have flowers?"
Gaz frowned as he looked around. "Yeah… this feels less 'retirement' and more 'rich widow remarrying for inheritance'."
Soap snorted, grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. "Guess this explains the dress code. This is…"
"Nikolai's doing," a new, familiar voice cut in.
Soap and Gaz turned to see Laswell approaching. She was dressed impeccably in a sharp, dark blue suit, and her hair was pulled back in a tight, simple updo.
"Laswell," Soap greeted, clinking his glass lightly against hers. "So Cap is finally letting himself be spoiled, then?"
Laswell smiled faintly. "Something like that. Nik just wanted to make sure he had what he deserved."
"Seems a bit much for a retirement party," Soap muttered at the exact same moment Gaz asked,
"So where is he?"
Laswell gave them both a knowing look. "Nik's helping him get ready. They'll be down soon. Try mingling in the meantime."
Sooap glanced around the room again, only now noticing how many unfamiliar faces there were. Older men in formalwear, elegantly dressed women, people laughing and quietly talking amongst themselves, all with similar confusion on their faces.
Before he could ask Laswell any follow-up questions, the music stopped, and Laswell took a step back.
"'Scuse me, boys. I'm needed elsewhere."
She disappeared into the crowd just as Price and Nikolai appeared at the top of the staircase that overlooked the main hall.
Price wore a dark, tailored suit, one hand tucked awkwardly into his pocket as though he'd rather be elsewhere. Beside him, Nikolai stood in a matching suit, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
"Well," Price began, his voice carrying through the room, "first off, thank you all for coming.
The room quieted immediately.
"Small change of plans, though." He glanced sideways at Nikolai before looking back at the crowd. "In case it wasn't already painfully obvious… this isn't a retirement party."
The already quiet room seemed to get impossibly silent.
"Nikolai and I are gettin' married in about five minutes," Price continued plainly. "So… if everyone could head into the ceremony room and grab a seat, that'd be appreciated."
He gestured toward a set of large doors as the staff hurried to open them.
Soap just stared, completely dumfounded. Beside him, Gaz was doing his best not to choke on his champagne.
Someone coughed awkwardly, and suddenly the spell broke. Conversations erupted immediately as people began filing toward the next room in varying states of shock.
"You have got to be kidding me," Soap said weakly. Price caught his eye from across the room and jerked his head toward the side entrance.
Soap frowned until he saw Ghost finally make his appearance.
He wore a fitted midnight-black suit, a small boutonniere pinned neatly to his lapel. His usual skull mask had been replaced with a sleeker gaiter that matched the color of his suit.
Soap's jaw dropped.
Ghost frowned immediately. "What?"
"You knew?"
"Aye."
"You knew?"
Ghost looked genuinely confused by the outrage. "Thought everybody did."
"What are you talking about?" Soap sputtered.
Gaz jerked his thumb to the other people who were moving into the ceremony room. "Mate, everyone here thought this was a retirement party."
Ghost blinked once. "Why would Price host his retirement party here?"
Soap opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Laswell passed by then, patting Ghost once on the shoulder. "Come on, boys. Ceremony's starting."
Soap pointed accusingly between the two of them. "You knew too? Both of you knew?"
Laswell silenced him with a single look, making Gaz stifle a laugh. Soap muttered under his breath while he and Gaz headed into the ceremony room.
If it wasn't blatantly obvious before that this was a wedding, it was now.
Flowers climbed the walls in sprawling arrangements while candles lined the aisle. At the end of everything stood a simple square arch wrapped in equally elegant florals.
A few minutes later, the ceremony began. It was very short but still sincere.
Price and Nikolai walked down the aisle together. Ghost stood beside Price as his best man, while Laswell stood on Nikolai's side, looking far too smug about this whole thing.
The officiant gave a nice, simple speech before asking the two men if they'd like to spend the rest of their lives together. Price's "aye" came out a bit rough, while Nikolai's answering "da" sounded brighter than the candles surrounding them.
Their kiss was followed by warm applause before everyone was ushered into the reception hall.
By the time dinner ended, the atmosphere had completely shifted. A DJ replaced the string quartet, the candles had been extinguished, and the dance floor was alive.
Soap's mood had improved significantly, especially after Price had sent over a bottle of whiskey as an apology.
"Had to make sure you didn't go blabbin'," Price told him while making his rounds. Soap couldn't stay angry after that. Though he was still mildly offended Ghost hadn't said anything to him.
Ghost, meanwhile, caught onto Soap's sulking and became deeply entertained by it. Gaz joined in, making playful jabs that only got worse the more alcohol became involved.
Eventually, the DJ called the newlyweds up, and they stood in front of everyone, microphone in Price's hand.
"Alright," he grumbled slightly. "Got one more thing we need to take care of. Nik and I have one more thing we'd like to inflict upon you all before the evenin' ends."
Beside him, Nikolai held up a bundled pair of socks.
"Instead of a bouquet," Nikolai explains, "we toss these. Whoever catches them wins this."
He pulled a bottle of very expensive vodka from behind his back.
The reaction was immediate. Soon enough, almost everyone was standing on the dance floor.
Soap and Gaz exchanged a look before immediately joining the crowd.
"Oh, absolutely not," Gaz muttered. "That bottle's mine."
"Like hell it is."
Music blasted through the speaker as Price took the socks from Nikolai. Without even fully turning around, he blindly tossed them over his shoulder.
Chaos erupted instantly.
Soap lunged for them at the same time Gaz did, the two of them slamming into each other as several other people tumbled in after them.
Meanwhile, Ghost effortlessly reached up and caught the bundle cleanly out of the air. Cheers and groans broke out around the room as the crowd started to disperse.
Ghost turned the socks over in his hand, brow lifting slightly as he read the embroidered text:
You're Next. Don't Get Cold Feet.
Gaz barked out a laugh when he saw it. "Oh? You're next then, mate?" he teased.
Ghost glanced down at Soap, who was still hauling himself off the floor, and offered him a hand. Soap took it automatically.
"Seems like it," Ghost murmured. Before Soap could respond, Ghost tugged his mask down and pulled him into a firm kiss.
When he pulled back, Soap could only stare at him, completely blindsided for the second time that night.
in honour of Pride Month, I wanted to make a version of my stars dividers, but with several LGBTQIA+ flag colours. :’))) I hope I have represented your flags well—please do let me know if I got the colours wrong.
everyone deserves to love and be loved freely, without discrimination -> pride month collection 🤍
Task Force 141 x Omega OCs | Main Pairing: Ghost xOC
Content & Warnings: Omegaverse, Multiple OCs, Mention of Violence and Sexual Content
Word Count: 265,683
A 28-year-old omega ends up on the wrong side of the law, forcing her to make a daunting choice: serve a lengthy prison sentence or become one of four omegas for Task Force 141, an elite alpha pack known for their high-risk missions and no-nonsense attitudes. The omega opts for the latter choice and gets placed against 100 other omegas for a spot as one of four omegas in the elusive task force's all-alpha pack. Now, she dawns the callsign "Boo" and is forced to grow in ways she didn't expect to to in order to win the heart of an alpha. Extremely slow burn with themes of found family, self-improvement, and learning to love.
