So glad you’re here!! ^_^ I am Cali, a fanfic writer (35, she/her, pansexual) who creates stories in the COD fandom and most of them are full of smut.
This entire blog is MDNI! No exceptions.
I block blogs that contain racism, TERFism, homophobia, body-shaming, slut/kink-shaming, ableism, minors, and drama/flaming. Don’t like it? I don’t care! Here’s a lesson in fandom etiquette for you new people. <3
All of my writing, ideas, and (frankly stunning) graphic designs are AI FREE. This is a no AI zone! Fuck AI!
Asks, reblogs, comments, and kudos are always welcome and appreciated, but I do not consent to any reposting, translations, or cross-platform re-uploading of any work (written or otherwise) that I produce, especially AI programs of any kind.
I love it when fan fiction writers are like: “ah shit, this was meant to be one part but I started writing it and now it has to be three”. Like the fanfic is happening to them and not being created by them.
Sick and tired of living a mediocre life on this third rock from the sun, you set out on your driftpod across the galaxy in search of escape, hoping to find peace in solitude. However, amidst your journey, you encountered someone who was also drifting, searching for something that felt like freedom, just like you.
Rating: E Category: F/M Tags: Secret Santa, Alternative Universe - Science Fiction, plus size reader, Sex Pollen, Strangers to Lovers, If You Squint, Mutual Pining, Forced Proximity, There Was Only One Bed, one bed trope, Star Wars Elements, space travel, Alien Worlds, Futuristic, Worldbuilding, excessive amounts of cum, Masturbation, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Lots of it, Reader is Sassy, Reader Is Spicy, Ghost is Loving It, Multiple Orgasms, Art by Author Inside, Galactic Soldier Ghost
A/N: My Secret Santa gift for @unseaworthy! This was a blast to write xD. Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays :D <3
CHAPTER ONE: QUARTZ
In space, no one can hear you scream.
Or at least that’s what you hope, by the gods, you hope no one has their satellite tuned in to your location, or they’d be picking up every sound wave of your pleasured cries as you’re getting railed on the bunk, a massive hand nestled around your throat as the man you only know as “Ghost” drives himself deep inside you, probably for the nth time that night — or day, you barely know anymore. The hours have melted together, your head swimming with euphoria as your body succumbs to each press of his hips.
You still couldn’t fathom how you ended up in this predicament since your original plan had been simple: to travel solo, hop from moon to moon, explore alien terrain, experience alien traditions, enjoy the freedom from all the responsibilities and nuances of life, and gaze at the stars without anyone encroaching on your territory.
