let's explore that voice for sex a lil more. something maybe about a comms channel left open? something overheard?
The mission is over, technically. Thankfully. Because there's no way that Gaz is maintaining any kind of situational awareness with Ghost huffing and grunting in his ear like this.
At first, he'd thought the sniper was running, had almost made a joke about him getting old and soft from laying about in a nest all day. Hell, the heat is getting to him, too; he's sweating so much he's been fantasizing about a cold shower.
Well all of that comes to a screeching halt when Ghost pants "Gaz, Kyle. Fuck." then grunts like it comes from deep in his belly.
Gaz's brain goes from fantasizing to fantasizing real quick. He imagines the way that tattooed forearm flexes, this his other hand must still be on his service weapon, just in case. Would he still be wearing his gloves? Was cum running down his bare and broken knuckles?
His voice breaks, and he has to clear his throat to answer. "Ghost?
"Fuckin' - " Ghost swears, and things jostle and crack like something's fallen. "The 'ell are you doin' on this channel?"
"It's the same channel we've been on," Gaz points out. His heart races, and he knows, knows, he's playing with fire, but he can't help but ask, "You, uh, you need help over there?"
He'd think Ghost had gone dark if he couldn't hear him still panting like he'd run a marathon. But eventually, he says - growls really - "You wanna 'elp me, Pretty Boy?"
Kyle's whole body goes hot and cold and hot again. He'd be lying if he said that getting a nickname from Ghost hadn't been the highlight of his year, that he'd imagined it being whispered in his ear, just like this. He licks his lips, opens his mouth -
"Not on this channel, he doesn't," Kate interjects, and her dry voice is a bucket of ice water in Kyle's veins.
Part 1 of a little comic for mershark soap and pirate ghost :)
Ghost thought sharks didn't make noise so he's really shocked when the one he's stuck with (hes not really stuck hes keeping it around cause he feels bad and the mer is handsome) starts crying loudly...
happy pride month. when ghost said "you broke a lot of rules, price" he was talking about price dragging gaz down the path of reckless and passively suicidal war crimes. this is a problem for ghost because 1) gaz is the sun he can't stand to see set and 2) price stole gaz from him after letting watching soap die and 3) ghost is the one who's life is supposed to be thrown away and if it's not then all the damage isn't #gooddamage
GHOUL mer eggs being sold as some sort of health supplement tapioca pearl.
oooh eggs being put in and not tapioca pearlsssss
ooh mer working behind the counter putting their eggs into your drink and watching you happily slurp away at them and make a little choking noise when you swallow one whole. imagining the way you'd slobber all over their ovipositor and get fat with their eggs.
feeling funny in your tummy, figuring its something you ate when you start to get bloated, nice employee offers to help you home when you feel too sick to stand properly. let's themselves into your house and keeps pressing on your stomach with little trilling noises. ends with you on your knees when their cock prods at your hole.
telling you its better like this where the eggs won't get digested and can actually gestate properly, but you dont really know what that means and your poor tummy hurts so bad and their cock feels so good, and you dont really care what's happening until you feel that first egg roll into you. then maybe you start to panic a little
The concept of old man price who grew up with don't ask don't tell trying to be supportive of his new young secretary....
He has no idea what the mini flags in your pencil holder mean, only recognizes the rainbow one. Price tried to stay away from that sort of stuff, only way to stay alive, and now all his information comes to him through osmosis of talking with the sergeants.
Which is how you come into the office one day to find a small box on your desk, no note or anything. Price had told you he'd left you "something for the constitution, eh?" When you passed him in the hall. Could this be it?
You open the box and—
"PRoud of wHo you Are!"
A small cake, decorated with rainbow frosting, the words look messy and done in a gel icing you one might buy separately. The image of price being too embarrassed to ask the workers to add words because he wasn't sure what to say comes to mind, followed quickly by him bent over the cake piping on messy lines.
It's horribly tacky. It's the nicest thing anyone on base has done for you.
You're not exactly quiet about who you are, and that decision can be felt everyday withe the way your coworkers act. So this? Now?
You close your door so no one can see you crying while you eat a slice.
Simon Riley had never been good with women. He knew how to clear rooms, how to disappear, how to make threats stop breathing. But.. flirting, charming.. even talking to someone soft and smiling who brought him his lunch with a shy “here you go, love.” was another battlefield entirely.
Then there was you.
New café on the corner, stuck between a florist and a bookstore. The first time he saw you, you’d laughed at something a customer said and your eyes lit up. Simon’s chest did something strange.. he started going every morning just to watch the way your hands moved, the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were thinking…
He learned your schedule. Learned your likes, learned your habits.. learned the name of the useless boy who sometimes would be waiting for you after your shift—the one who never held the door, who barely looked up from his phone.
Simon decided that boy didn’t deserve you. Didn’t treat you the way you deserved.
But Simon would.
He planned for three weeks. Watched the cameras he’d installed along your usual route home, waited until your boyfriend was out of town. The cloth over your mouth was quick, clinical—military training made it efficient. No screams, no mess, just the soft weight of you in his arms as he carried you out to the waiting vehicle.
You woke up in his basement, except.. It didn’t look like a basement.
The walls were painted a soft sage green you’d once mentioned was your favorite color. String lights hung in careful loops across the ceiling. A nice bed with the quilt he’d seen you admire in a shop window. Bookshelves he’d stocked with the authors and novels you’d sneak on your break to read. A small kitchenette with your favorite tea and snacks fully stocked. A locked door at the top of the stairs, of course, but the room itself smelled like vanilla and fresh paint.
Simon sat in the armchair across from the bed, mask off, watching you stir. His hands flexed on his knees—nervous, almost boyish.
“You’re safe..” he said quietly when he noticed the fear when your eyes first fluttered open. “No one’s gonna hurt you here. Not him. Not anyone.” His voice was rough, unused to softness. “I know this ain’t… normal. I ain’t good at asking. But I’ll give you everything he never could. The world you deserve. You just… you gotta stay a while. Let me show you.”
He stood slowly, making sure to not scare you as he set a tray on the bedside table—tea, the exact kind you liked, a blueberry muffin, and a small vase with a single daisy. His eyes were dark, hungry, but trying to be gentle.
“I’ll be back in the morning. Door’s locked, but there’s a bell if you need anything. I’m not a monster, love. I just… finally found something I want to keep.”
He turned the lights down, casting soft warmth across the room before pausing at the door.
“Rest. You’re home now.”
The lock clicked.
Upstairs, Simon leaned against the wall, heart hammering like it never had before.
Downstairs, the room waited—pretty, quiet, inescapable. And somewhere in the middle of it, you, still blinking awake, trying to understand how the man who used to order flat whites had decided you were his to save.
After your old team was wiped out when helping the taskforce, you thought you’d never bounce back. Joining the taskforce wasn't exactly the dream either— especially since you didn't actually know who or what you were signing up to work with.
On your first mission you almost screamed at the giant falcon ripping a soldier to shreds, or a wolf tackling another down into the ground.
They were shifters, and no one had thought to tell you that.
Regardless, you’ve been doing your best to try and fit in as one of the only humans around. It was the first time in months you’ve had actual weekends and evenings to just sit back and exist, not chasing after one lead or the other non stop. Recently you’ve watched plenty of movies, picked up a hobby or two, and even went on a few lunch dates with the sergeants. You feel like you’re getting closer by the day— and it makes you a lot more confident too.
It’s midday, a weekend, and you sit in front of your dresser in your quarters, ready to sort it out after being moved to the task force’s wing. You had shoved it in before just for the past few days, but now you actually had to deal with it. With a sigh you pull out the last pair of trousers, tossing them into their own pile before looking at the sight of all your clothes spread out. Maybe you should put them on hangers in your cupboard instead..
You stand, heading to grab some only to hear soft scratching behind you. There’s nothing in the room though, and you even glance around the side of your bed, finding nothing in the slightest. So when you bring your freshly folded trousers to the drawer, you’re surprised to see fur sticking out the back. Confused, you crane your head down, trying to get a peek, only for light eyes to shine in the dark, paired with the white and brown streaked fur. A cat?!
For a moment you’re startled, wondering where the cat could’ve come from, especially on base. It faintly reminds you of Simon, but he can only shift into large cats, tigers and lions or so. Same with Gaz’s avian shifting too– it’s not like you ever saw him as a tiny robin.
So who was this kitty hiding behind your drawer?
“Kitty? You need to get out.. I need to close my drawer.” You frown, watching as it starts to put its head down and completely ignore you. Probably not a shifter then, huh..
So reluctantly you had to leave your drawers open for the entire day, occasionally bumping into it a few times and making you hiss in pain and grasp your shin. Eventually it does leave, without you even knowing and you frown at the strange little thing.
—
You don't see it again for a whole week until it does the exact same to the drawers beneath your bed, where it’s much darker. It’s a hot summer day and you’re already sweating so much as it is, and now you can't even shut them because of the cat relaxing peacefully behind! Though you do feel a little bad about the kitty, he must be just as hot as you if not more.
So as carefully as you can, you hold a small dish of ice cold water, trying your best to place it behind the drawer without dislocating your arm altogether.
“It’ll help you cool down..:” You murmur, focusing intently on placing it down until you finally do, letting out a relieved sigh. Unfortunately for you, the cat just stares at the small dish and goes right back to sleep again, ignoring your attempts. Great.
The cat comes by regularly, so much so that you end up having your drawer open at all times because if you even think you can close it, somehow it’s already curled up in there already. You’ve scolded it even a few times when it ran in just as you were closing it.
“Hey Bon.” You look up from where you lay on your bed, a frown set on your lips as you glance over to where Soap stands in your doorway.
“What’s up?”
“Have you seen Simon anywhere?”
You blink, and then shrug your shoulers– why would you see him?
“Why would I know? The guy disappears apart from meal times..”
“I always see him come this way..” He trails off when all of a sudden there’s soft scratching in your drawer, Johnny’s head snapping towards it.
You sit up as Johnny crouches down to look into the drawer, before turning to deadpan towards you. “Lass, I just asked you where Simon was.”
“Huh? Some stray cat keeps sleeping there. I can't seem to get it out, but it always comes back.”
He looks at you like you’re the one whose acting weird, and then pinches his brow when you still don’t fess up. “There’s literally only one feline shifter on the team, what the hell are you on about? Ghost get the hell out–Price wants to speak with us.”
You stare dumbfounded as the cat–Simon?-- pokes it’s head out of the drawer and climbs out as told, casually shifting back into the Lieutenant you know well.
“L-lieutenant?!” You stare at him in shock, jaw dropped at the sight of him half shifted, fluff ears hidden behind soft blonde waves and the sight of a tail peeking out his training uniform. “I- i’m so sorry!”
How many times have you tried to pet him when he was running away? When he was sleeping? Or the stupid cat toys you tried to put together? You even started yapping to him at some point!
“Wait– you actually didn't know that was Simon?”
“I thought he could only shift into larger cats!” You shriek back at Johnny, hiding your burning face in your hands like that’ll save you from the embarrassment eating you alive right now. It doesn’t help that Simon does nothing more than snort and stretch his arms over his head, heading towards your door.
“It’s a decent napping spot. C’mon, Johnny. We’ll be late.” He pulls the Scot along before stopping in the doorway, and pulling his mask out his pocket. “Leave it open— i’ll be back later.”
——————————-
This is partially because this sanctuary has a big cat called simon who is has gorgeous white and brown fur, i’ll add a pic later hehe. Also i will be making another part to this because i love my sillies
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