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Yeah

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miss feburary 🎉🍰💝

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Miss February by Megan Thee Stallion ੈ ⁎⁺˳✧༚

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— valentine’s day 💌💕

[Free] Masterlist Headers & Dividers!

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— valentine’s day 💌💕

[Free] Masterlist Headers & Dividers!

Please consider liking or reblogging if you use 💕

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I can imagine asking Ghost to take my daughter to the daddy-daughter ball, only not to be able to get rid of him once he brings her home.

"you what?"

you rest your forehead against your locker door, closing your eyes as you tune out the nonchalant voice on the other end of the phone.

he always cancels.

but this?

"y-you can't cancel," you say finally. "you have to go. you can't do this to her, are you fucking kidding me?" you put a hand to your forehead. "you're a fucking asshole. i-i bought her a dress. it's for fathers and daughters, i can't fucking take her. it's all she's been talking about, i can't believe you--!"

you kick your locker shut and take a seat, resting your elbows on your knees. he gives you another excuse, but you just blink away your angry tears.

"no. don't bother. in fact, i don't want to see you again. i don't want her to see you again."

you put the phone down, your hands trembling from how angry you are. you aren't even surprised that he's not calling you back.

he's never wanted her. never.

"sergeant."

the firm sound of your title immediately has you on your feet. you stand up straight, but you relax a little when you see it's just ghost. his head is tilted to the side, and he's watching you carefully from under his mask. you can't see his expression, but his eyes are intense. he's focused on you, very much so.

you wipe the few tears that are under your eyes, and then your phone pinging takes your attention away from him. you pick it up and curse under your breath, opening your locker again to grab your things.

"i'm sorry, lieutenant, i need to go. can i get back to you tomorrow?"

"it's pick-up time, isn't it?"

you freeze from putting your jacket on, eyeing him warily before zipping it up.

"yeah," you say finally. "and i have some bad news to deliver, so while i'd love to stay and chat, i really need to go."

"doesn't hafta be her father," simon shrugs, leaning up against the locker beside yours. "could be anyone."

you glare at him a little, "if you're trying to make some kind of crude joke about the lack of men in our lives, lieutenant, i'd be careful if i were you--"

you stop when he grips your chin tight between his gloved fingers. you blink, unsure of what to do, and he shakes your jaw a little.

"i could take 'er."

you frown up at him, too annoyed to notice how he bends a little more, his face nearly against yours.

"it's not funny, lieutenant."

"not laughin'."

"you..." you meet his eyes, deflating a little. "you...you'd...you'd do that for me?"

ghost merely clicks his tongue before letting you go. when you make your way to your car, he follows, and you try to hide your smile as you make your way home.

ghost exchanges his mask for something more discreet when you aren't looking. a black n95, but his eyes still kill the same. when you come back to the car with a little girl on your hip, she stares wide-eyed at the hunk of man sitting in the passenger seat. he raises a brow at her, saying nothing, and you swallow hard as you buckle her into her seat.

"uhm...this is ghost. can you say hi, honey?"

"ghost? like halloween?"

"like halloween, baby."

as you buckle yourself back in the drivers' seat, you side-eye ghost when you hear the crinkle of a plastic wrapper. when you peek into the rearview to reverse out of the parking lot, you see your daughter with a big smile on her face and a red lolly stuck in her mouth.

"always carrying around sweets, lieutenant?"

he shrugs. "maybe."

she makes him wait in the living room while you get her dress on (she wants a big reveal, coming down the stairs and all). you bought it off of etsy, a custom-made, princess-inspired dress. it has a big skirt of silk and tulle, with a big bow at her back, and when you look at her smile in the mirror, you feel that searing slice of something that makes you want to kill the man that almost ruined her evening.

she gets to do her big reveal. she spins at the top of the stairs to make her big skirt move, and then she's running down the stairs, giggling, laughing, and just as she makes it to ghost, he grabs her under her arms and tosses her into the air. she shrieks with delight when her big dress moves, and you bite your lip watching them. the sight of ghost hiking her up on his hip and commenting on her bow makes your mouth water.

fuck. have his arms always been that big?

they look funny. your daughter looks like the prettiest princess, and ghost looks exactly as he always does--like a SAS lieutenant. he might not have any of his gear on, but the cargo pants, thick boots, and windbreaker don't hide his physique.

"have fun, baby."

you come up next to her, kissing her face, and she clings to your superior, arms tangled around his neck as she waves goodbye. you give ghost the keys to your car, tell him to bring her back by seven, and then you pamper yourself while she's gone.

you drink a few glasses of wine. you take a hot bath. you pick a movie to watch and don't have to make sure the rating is at least PG.

when ghost finally comes back, you're laying on the couch with another glass of wine. pajamas on, blanket over your lap, and you smile when you see her passed out in ghost's arms as he closes the front door behind himself.

"asleep? already?" you giggle. ghost sets your keys down by the door before taking his boots off, and you watch intently as he carries your daughter up the stairs to put her to bed. you follow him, grabbing some of her pajamas from the drawer as he lays her down on the bed. you work together to get her little shoes off and shimmy her out of the dress, and as you get her into her clothes and back under the covers, she barely even moves. she's so tired, yawning and snuggling under her blankets, and you shut the door behind you, leaning against it as you blink up at your lieutenant.

he stares right back down at you. you reach a hand up and trace along the edge of his mask. it's quiet. inappropriate. he won't move away from you, and you won't move either.

you could get used to this. you could get used to watching more adult movies, drinking more wine, having time to fixed your chipped nail polish. you could get used to being bent over your unmade bed and fucked nasty.

you grab onto the crumpled sheets, arching your back more. your knees dig into the mattress as your ass hikes up, and ghost grunts as he uses your hips as an anchor and fucks into you harder. it's been ages since anyone's found your sweet spot, and ghost's cock is nudging it every single time his hips come back to meet yours. his thighs are nearly as fat as his cock, and you feel like your entire body is being rewired as he gives it to you so good, inside and out.

thumb against your clit, balls smacking your pussy, cock splitting you open--you used to think sex was made only for men, but maybe you just never found a real one to show you just how toe-curling it really could be.

if you thought it was good on your tummy, ghost shows you an entirely different feeling on your back.

it's so intimate. no one has ever looked at you this way before. his hands are intertwined with yours, and all you can do is cry and squeeze his hands as he sinks all the way inside of you and barely moves apart. in the dark, he takes his mask off, and you can feel the pant of his hot breaths as he grinds into you deep, slow, purposefully. the stimulation on your clit has your thighs shaking, and when you think the tears are too much, ghost flattens his tongue to lick them off before kissing you wet and languid.

ghost barely pulls out. he just circles his hips, punching back into you, and you see spots behind your eyes when he finally opens his mouth and groans into your ear. something about hearing his voice, hearing him falter, it makes you come. as soon as your cunt squeezes, ghost chokes, gripping your jaw tight and coming deep. you squirm underneath him, arching your back--he fills you up, so much so you can feel it spurting out around his cock and spilling out between your thighs.

you're too tired to protest when he sinks between your thighs after--you have to get clean somehow, right?

when you come into the kitchen in the morning, ghost is at the stove, your daughter on his hip and an egg frying in the pan.

he doesn't leave you when you take him back to work; and he doesn't leave you when you go back home. you should've known better, maybe. it's your own fault. ghosts like to haunt.

and this one is home.

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Before I go fuck off somewhere....

John Price wants to put a baby in his girl who refuses to be a babymama before she's a wife. She thinks this is going to dissuade him or at least put a pause to those baby dreams. But all he hears is she wants the ring and the baby carriage.

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nah-nah, nah-nah nah-nah these hoes ain't fazin' me, fazin' me nah-nah, nah-nah-nah-boo-boo bitch, you dead to me, dead to me!

DOECHII Alter Ego (2024)

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Not proof read so forgive me:

It was supposed to be a one time thing. Stress relief, a mission gone to shit with both of you jammed into a tiny, grotty safe house without running water.

Kyle was tense, you were highly strung. Enemies around every corner, no end to shadowy figures trailing you, risking your cover every time either of you set a nose outside the front door. It was supposed to be a simple surveillance operation, Kyle and you posing as a loved up, naive couple on honeymoon.

Until it wasn��t. Now you’ve been told firmly to sit tight and wait for an extraction that could take days. Your only company a lumpy bed and a tv without a remote control, so it’s stuck on a channel that only plays back to back sitcom episodes. All of which you’ve seen before.

You can see it in him, the frustration itching at the seams. Kyle despises being locked indoors, best suited to the freedom the field usually provides. Each muscle is coiled, no output for energy burning within them. Not even enough space for push ups, he paces backwards and forwards, restless though exhausted by it.

However, an order is an order. Kyle is built to follow Price’s commands and so are you.

You offered to shut the door and put a pillow over your head, let him jerk one out with a harsh grip to siphon off the simmering tension blazing out of those amber eyes.

Kyle sniped that it wasn’t needed, he’s a professional after all, more than capable of handling high pressure situations. A whispered argument ensued, that escalated to frenzied nipping at each other’s necks on the threadbare sheets, dry humping his muscled thigh while Kyle’s wrist disappeared beneath his waistband to tug at his cock.

Then his tacs where by his knees, thick fingers knuckle deep and pressing firmly against your g-spot, while your hot mouth sucked him to completion.

Soon the days blended carelessly into nights, taking Kyle to the root, spread across his lap with your face pressed into his sweat slicked chest. Each roll of his hips made your cunt pulse, wet and perfect. He came inside you so many times, an antidote to the simmering impatience of being holed up in such a shit situation.

If Nikolai smelled sex in the air when he eventually managed to reach the apartment, he didn’t mention it. Kyle hiding your lovebites by turning up his collar, the ones he left in return thankfully hidden between your thighs.

Back on base, post debrief, you head to your room. A much needed shower and sleep required, plus bruise cream for those teeth marks on your plush flesh.

You never planned to mention it again. Just two colleagues giving each other a release. Nothing more or less.

The times after that, which have you on your knees in desolate supply cupboards hidden behind secret corners, Kyle buried in the softness of your pussy and playing with your swollen clit -

Well. They don’t count either.

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STRATEGY TWICE feat. Megan Thee Stallion (2024)

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Task Force 141

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Yall know that most POC people don't get into COD because of the racism right?

I saw a post trying to downplay the racism in the COÐ fandom because people write for the poc characters. BUT I think we are missing a big chuck of the fandom.

It took me 2 YEARS after playing my first COD game to attempt to play online. It took me 4 MONTHS after that to play with headphones on. Then I started to find COD posts online, not the happy fanfiction part, but the RACIST, DARK HUMOR, and MISOGYNISTIC part.

In 2022, I found thirst traps of Ghost on tiktok only then was I brave enough to interact with it, then I found @blnk338 beautiful Work on AO3 and the rest is history.

It's great that you can completely ignore the blatant and obvious racism from more than half of the fandom, but I can't. What we aren't going to do, though, is say it doesn't exist because a very small majority of people ride hard for Gaz

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Jolyne Thee Stallion

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when you finish a fic that was everything you could of hoped for and you click on their user to see that they’ve written dozens of fics for that pairing

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Megan’s Instagram Update (November 9, 2024)