#{; ooc; ghosty talks ;}

[strelitziareginaee]

[aliidarling]

excuse my bad grammar and typos, this is my first time posting official smut! i’ve had accounts there and there but this time i’m fr

i didn’t proofread either cuz i’m lazy so bare w me

sorry if danny is ooc he’s weird to write

he hit me and it felt like a kiss ♡

DANNY JOHNSON x fem!reader

nsfw content — please scroll if uncomfortable

summary: danny chases u down towards the end of the trial and corners you in lampkin house, decides to have a little fun w u :3

tags: nsfw obvi, p in v, forced entry kinda, blood as lube is suggested, rough fingering at end, degrading, humiliation, mean danny, dubcon, referenced somnophillia but doesn’t happen, danny’s thoughts are triggering, danny himself is a warning

dark content below!!

Your breath was heavy as your feet ran as quickly as possible, the thoughts of all other things leaving your mind very quickly. All you could think was the fact a pyschopath was currently right behind you, knife in air, and coming right at your sorry ass.

“Shit, shit,” You sigh shakily under your breath. Your heart was pounding so fast it felt like it could just jump out of your chest. If it did you hoped it’d punch Ghostie in his stupid face, maybe give him a few bruises to remember you by.

“Stop fuckin’ running! You’re only delayin’ the inevitable, sweetheart!” He yells from behind you, his voice deep. You never took time to admire his voice but for some odd reason, while you were probably five seconds away from death, you couldn’t help but acknowledge how smooth it was.

After his harsh words left his mouth, he was immediately slammed with a pallet, chasing him to let out a loud groan and stumble back.

“Fuckin’ bitch— you’re gonna get gutted for that.” He growls, lifting his palm to rub the soreness on his face before he remembered about the stupid mask he wore. He rolled his eyes at this and quickly got back onto his feet.

After another few minutes, he managed to corner you into the little house on Lampkin Lane, the red and blue lights illuminating onto his shrieking expression.

You felt your heart drop slowly as you realized you had nowhere to go. How could you be so stupid, running into the only room in the god damn house without a window to vault into.

“Can’t we talk about this?” You smile sheepishly, backing up into you pressed against the wall, his tall and looming figure intimidating you shitless.

You could feel the sassy roll of his eyes before he roughly grabs you by your shoulders, throwing you down onto the old worn down mattress. A yelp leaves your throat, your body squirming on the mattress, having landed on your belly.

You open your mouth to protest, “Hey!—“ Only to feel the air knocked out of you as he plops down on your lower back, straddling you. His hips were pressing down into your butt, his knees at each side of your waist.

An attempt to lift your head up was quickly denied as you felt his hand grab the back of your head, his fingers tangling within your hair, and shoving it back down into the scratched cushion.

“No squirmin, or else you’ll get a knife shoved in that pretty lil’ head of yours, got it?” His voice was low as he hissed the words out, his legs tightening their hold on you.

You whimper at the pressure on your lower body. You decide to ignore his words— you were gonna die anyways, so why not go out screaming and kicking?

“Fuck you.” You say with a tone full of hatred, fists clenching in anger as you attempt to knock him off you by shoving your butt into him roughly.

This only causes him to get worse, a sharp inhale coming from him as he feels your butt connect with his groin.

He groans back and presses you further down, his hand starting to raise his knife up.

“I’ve had enough of your stupid whining and fighting, stupid little bitch, how about you shut up and take this god damn knife in your throat?” He snaps, his other hand roughly grabbing you by the back of your neck and squeezing it as he presses it down.

Right as he’s about to slam his blade into the back of your skull, already daydreaming about how good his clothes would look covered in your blood and tears, he feels your tiny body under him shift once again and press tight against his cock.

His breath hitches intensely, and it only gets worse from there as he hears a soft noise leave your lips. He reluctantly lowers his knife, just a little, and pulls his head down to see yours.

You had your face resting face down, your cheek pressed against the mattress with your eyes squeezed shut. You had already prepared yourself for the feeling of his knife deep in your skull. It’s not like worse hasn’t happened, Wesker and some of the other weird ass killers had too much fun with their mori’s.

The squeeze of his fingers around your delicate neck caused you to let out a forced moan, his brows furrowing. You could practically feel the air tense as his heavy breathing from behind you sent shivers down your body and right into your core, feeling so embarrassed to have this murderers body so close to yours.

“Just kill me already, you stupid little— Just get this over with!” You whispered with a high pitched tone, squirming once again and bracing yourself for the slash.

He only rolled his eyes at you in response.

Your attention was drawn away from your fear of dying as you heard the loud sound of steel clattering against the floor.

You looked up in surprise, your lips parting and not having a chance to say anything before you felt his smash right against you, a loud gasp leaving you as he pressed you even further down.

After a second into the kiss, you wondered, how the hell he could kiss you with his mask on? You peeked an eye open and saw he had his mask pulled up halfway.

He had one hand grabbing you by the back of your neck, holding you down into the bed, his other squeezing your pink cheeks. The kiss only got more rough as you attempted to part.

All your attempts at parting miserable failed, considering you were quite literally pinned down with no where to go.

“H-Hey— hey, ghostf—“ You choked out between kisses, your hands which you were surprised weren’t pinned down yet, go to shakily reach towards him to push him away.

“Shut the hell up.” He grits his teeth, resisting the urge to beat the shit out of you and then fuck your unconscious body afterwards. Maybe you wouldn’t struggle so much then, ungrateful bitch.

A whine left you before you felt yourself get shoved down again, your head knocking against the mattress roughly. You squirm more, gasping and shaking your head in the kiss you tried your best not to give into.

“Get off me! Get off me— you god damn psycho!” You screeched.

His hand quickly shot up and slapped your face, causing you to curl away and hide your red face into the bed under him. Almost made him feel bad before he remembered the ruckus you caused him during today’s match. Can’t even remember how many god damn pallets you shoved into my face.

“You gonna cry?” He mocks, a grin tugging at his lips as he presses his hips down into your butt, one his knees shoving its way between your thighs and forcefully parting it.

“No I’m not..” You say quietly and so embarrassed.

“Yeah, I think you are.”

He then pulled away rather harshly from your face, one of his hands pressing into the space between your shoulder blades, not letting you look up or get up.

His other hand yanked his mask back down, but then got to quick work with grabbing the hem of your pants and shoving it down.

“What’s wrong? Embarrassed? Shouldn’t be, baby, you’re so pretty.” His voice was so mocking and condescending by itself that it was probably enough to make you cry.

“S-Shut up,” You whispered, limp under him, not even struggling anymore. You knew there was nowhere to go. And you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your tummy as he called you pretty.

“..You think I’m pretty?”

He snickers at your small voice, his hand leaving your back and joining his other in pulling your pants down. Once you’re naked from waist down, he gets to work and grab your hips, pulling them up into a position where they are hovering in the air with your knees supporting them.

“Mhm, baby. Prettiest victim I’ve ever had.” His large hand glides over your round butt, giving you firm taps and playful rubs.

You couldn’t help but let a small moan as his hand glided right over your pussy, pinching your clit rather harshly, making you yelp.

Stupid girl didn’t think I’d be nice with her, did she?

I’m going to ruin her.

I’ll start off with that tight pussy of hers.

“Ever had someone in here, hmm?” He hums, his thick finger teasing your small hole and threatening to slip in. Your breath hitches in fear.

His bloody, dirty gloves fingers inside you sounded so dirty, but a part of you craved for it. The way he stimulated your body fed to your cravings.

“I-I mean, yeah, a long time ago, but now I’ve been here for a bit and none of the survivors are really.. worth it.” You admitted hesitantly, feeling embarrassed to be telling Ghostface the last time you had sex was.

“Poor thing.” He mocked lowly, both his hands going to rest next to your folds. He spreads your pussy lips apart and snickers at the sight of your small inner walls and slickness.

“I’ll treat you so nice, baby, you won’t even have the heart to beg me to stop.”

His words sounded so genuine, but how could you believe him? He was the last person to trust, especially in a situation like this. You were surprised he hadn’t forced himself in your ass already, it felt like something his deranged ass would be into.

The sound of his robe wrinkling and moving around caught your attention. You peeked behind you to get a look before you felt his hand collide with your face again, sending you immediately back down into the mattress, hiding and squeezing your eyes shut as you decide to be good for once and just follow his orders.

You didn’t wanna walk out of here with a knife in your ass.

It wasn’t another minute until you felt something large and round press against your pussy opening. Your eyes widened as his hands forcefully spread your thighs, your back arching as his other hand pressing down into it.

“W-Wait— don’t go right into it!” You gasped, trying to pull away.

He completely ignores you and instead grabs your head with one hand, the other holding your hips firmly as he fully slams himself inside you, full on WWE style.

“Take it, sweetheart, it ain’t that hard, c’mon.” He sniggers, his tone heavy in mirth and amusement, his hold in you tightening.

He was so big, completely stretching out your gummy walls and pressing against your cervix with his painfully big cock.

It had to be a good 8 inches, maybe even hitting 9– nothing about him was average, so it didn’t surprise you his dick was painfully big.

“Ghost,” You cry out, your back arching further as his cock immediately pulls back, making you flinch at the friction.

You were wet, yeah, but not enough to withstand his cock. You would have needed a good stretching and a lot of fingering if you wanted to take him without any pain.

And the fucker just slammed himself inside you, no prep at all. Tears were teasing the corners of your eyes, nose scrunched up at the sting.

He rolls his eyes at your noises, “Stop fuckin’ whining, I’m not against killing ya still, y’know?” He huffs with a sassy tone. Both his hand settle around the curve of your hips and waist and start treating you like a complete fleshlight, slamming himself into you over and over again.

Your body shakes at the intensity of the pounding, your hands limp infront of you and weakly scratching at the mattress. Your skin felt so icky, your thighs covered in something but you didn’t know what.

“Good girl, good girl, takin’ my cock like you were fuckin’ born for it.” He giggled into your ear. He bends over slightly to press his back against your chest, pressing your body flat against the bed.

“Please slow down—“ You whine.

He slaps you in response and you weakly apologize.

A few more extra deep thrusts has him groaning from behind you, his eyes threatening to roll back as well at how tight you fit around him, snug like a song.

“Good for nothin’, cheap whore, what a pathetic piece of crap—“ He grumbles lowly, brows furrowing in concentration as his thrusts get more harsh, your body jolting from each slap of his hips.

Wrapping on arm around you and reaching for your tiny clit, he places rough circles onto it and hummed in approval at how your walls started sucking him in more.

“Gonna cum? Huh?”

“Mhm, mmm, please.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles darkly, brutally slamming his cock into you over and over again until he felt your pussy start milking the shit out of him. He let out an *almost* whine, burying himself as deep as he could inside as you as he twitched.

His hands grabbed onto your hips and pulled you flush against his, his dirty robe rubbing all over your body and staining your pretty skin with your friends blood.

“Good girl, yeah, just like that.” He whispered, his eyes fluttering shut as he felt his cock literally explode in you, sending all of his hot cum straight into your womb for you to go and cry about.

Right as he came, he felt your walls tighten further before relaxing and letting out your white cream as well, coating his cock.

With a soft huff, he slowly pulls out, listening to the squelching sounds in amusement. A smirk tugged at his lips as he watched a mixture of yours and his cum drop out of your sloppy hole, with a slight reddish tint on your thighs.

“Oops, made ya’ bleed.” He hums nonchalantly, his hand going and gliding some of the cum onto his fingers before shoving it back into you.

“Augh! Hey—“ You yelped, tensing at the feeling of his thick fingers back into your over-sensitive pussy, thighs spreading uncomfortably.

“Shut up. You ain’t gonna let one drop out, hear me? You’re gonna be a good girl and suck it up.”

“..Okay.”

After another moment of him shoving the cum deeper into you somehow, he parts and leans back, admiring the view of your ruined body with blood stains from his rough handling earlier and now.

“You’ve never looked prettier.” He snickers before he starts to get back up and pulling his robe on.

“..You’ve.. never looked creepier.” You joke dryly, glancing at his dirty robe. He rolls his eyes and kicks you with his foot as you were still on the floor.

“Ow!”

“Shut the hell up and get out of here, the hatch is waiting for your sorry ass.” He grunts, turning away and picking up the knife be dropped to fuck you.

“You’re so sweet.” You say bitterly under your breath, shakily getting up and rubbing the blood away. The sight of your inner walls blood made you cringe, staring down at your thighs. You sigh and quickly pull your pants back up. You felt disgusting.

“C’mon, I don’t got all day.” He narrows his eyes at you, appearing behind you to rudely shove you towards the exit of the room.

“Jeez! Okay, okay!” You whine, quickly walking out in search of the hatch he kindly offered to you. He watched as you left, his dark eyes from under the mask staring down your silhouette as it slowly disappeared into the distance.

[thewulf]

Through Your Eyes || Simon "Ghost" Riley

Summary: Request -I'm thinking a military TF 141 reader where she and Ghost are tiptoeing the line between friendship and something more (you write it soooo well!) and maybe one night she's just feeling lonely/homesick - she really only sees the guys anymore since they're always working - so she decides to get a lil tipsy in her room... Read Rest Here

A/N: Probably the most OOC Ghost we'll see but idc he's soft and I love it. Enjoy!

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader, TF 141 x Platonic Female Reader

Word Count: 9.5k + (They keep getting longer lmao)

TW: Drinking our issues away

In the quiet confines of your room on base the night stretches out like a silent, unending void. England, with its overcast skies and endless drizzle, feels worlds away from the sun-drenched horizons of your hometown in America. Here the walls are a dull grey. The only decoration a faded photograph of your family, smiling. A stark reminder of what you’ve left behind.

You sit on the edge of your narrow bed with a glass of whiskey cradled in your hands. The ice was slowly melting, mirroring the monotonous drip of time passing. The soft buzz of the base’s nighttime activities filters through your closed door. It was a constant reminder that life goes on even when parts of you have stalled.

Loneliness clings to you like a second skin. Homesickness gnaws at your insides. The jokes shared and the meals eaten together are supposed to bring comfort, but tonight they're not enough. The laughter feels distant. The smiles seem forced through your filter of sadness. You miss the ease of being understood in your own home. The comfort of familiar streets. The casual meetups with friends who knew you before you were a soldier.

Most of all you miss the simple, irreplaceable connections that once filled your days. You long for the nights out with your girlfriends, their laughter and stories echoing in your ears. A drastic difference to the tactical discussions that now dominate your evenings. The absence of your mother's voice, once a daily comfort, now feels like a missing chord in the symphony of your life. It’s not like you didn’t try and talk with her but the time difference made it nearly impossible.

The loneliness is compounded by the intimacy you crave but lack. You longed for a partner to share quiet moments with. Someone whose mere presence could turn the coldest nights warm. Here, among soldiers, your vulnerability remains hidden. Your longing for tenderness a silent scream in the night.

Lately you’ve found yourself envying Captain Price. Whenever he talks about going home to his family, a pang of jealousy tightens your chest. He returns to love, to embraces, to conversations that have nothing to do with war. His normalcy seems like a distant dream, and you crave it with every fiber of your being.

As the whiskey warms your throat it brings a slight haze to your thoughts. A part of you wonders if you made the right decision. Did you trade your past and your peace for a purpose that now feels too heavy to shoulder alone? The drink wasn’t soothing like you craved. Instead, it sharpened the edges of your solitude. It highlighted the deep yearning for something, or someone, to call home.

As the evening stretches into the deeper hours of the night your thoughts begin to swirl as much as the whiskey in your glass. Desperate for a distraction from the creeping melancholy you find yourself reaching for your phone. A dangerous idea forming amidst the softening edges of your loneliness.

The glow of your phone screen seems harsh against the dim lighting of your room. Scrolling through your contacts your thumb hovers over Ghost's name. He’s always been solid, dependable. Perhaps too much so, you think, a slight smile playing at the edges of your lips. With a reckless flicker of courage fueled by the whiskey warming your veins you tap out a somewhat flirty message. A far cry from your usual sober texts. Evening, Ghosty. Bet you can't guess what I’m up to right now…

You hit send before you can second guess yourself.

Seconds tick by, morphing into the longest minute as you stare at the screen. Your heart racing as you wait for a reply. Instead of a text though your phone starts buzzing underneath your fingertips. Ghost is calling you! Panic and excitement flutter in your chest. This isn't what you expected. You decline the call without a second though setting it face down as if it could hide your sudden nerves.

But the phone buzzes again almost immediately, Ghost’s name flashing insistently. He’s not giving up. He’d never give up if you didn’t answer now. That just wasn’t his nature. Taking a deep breath, you flip the phone back over and press answer before bringing it up to your ear. "Hey," your voice is more playful than intended, the alcohol lending you a bubbly tone.

"Everything alright?" Ghost's voice is laced with concern. His usual calm edged with tension.

"Yeah, just couldn’t sleep," you giggle not realizing how tipsy you actually were. It was a sound that feels both foreign and delightful to your ears.

"You sure? It’s not like you to text like this... this late." His probing is gentle. But you can sense him on edge trying to read the situation.

"I’m perfectly fine, Ghosty," you drawl out the nickname only he would let you use with a teasing lilt, stretching the words playfully.

"Are you drunk?" His tone a tinge worried mixed with a faint amusement.

"No!” You reply immediately but after silence on the other side of the line you continue. “Maybe just a smidge tipsy," you admit. You heard him exhale sharply on the other end—part relief, part exasperation.

There's a brief pause before his laughter filters through, easing the tension on his side of the line. "Alright then, I’m coming over. Don’t move."

"Oh no! you don’t have to! I’m just enjoying a bit of liquid courage," you protest him. Your words dancing with mock seriousness.

"I think I better check on you in person. Stay put," he commands softly. A firm undercurrent in his voice that brooks no argument.

"Okay," you acquiesce with your tone still light, teasing. As you hang up a smile tugs at your lips. Maybe what you really needed wasn’t to dull the ache of loneliness but to stir a bit of excitement. And who better than Ghost to share that with?

When you first joined Task Force 141 the transition was expected to be challenging, especially with the unit's tight-knit and often closed-off nature. However, what no one anticipated was the immediate and inexplicable closeness that formed between you and Simon Riley, your Ghosty.

From the outset, Ghost, known for his stoic demeanor and laser-focused professionalism took an uncharacteristically soft approach with you. It was as if he sensed you needed a mentor, or perhaps something within him responded to your arrival on a level he hadn't anticipated. His usual reserve melted somewhat in your presence. His guidance more patient and his words often tinged with a protective tone. This shift in him didn't go unnoticed. It raised eyebrows among the rest of TF 141, sparking whispers and speculation. Even Ghost himself seemed taken aback by his own behavior as if he was watching himself from a distance unable to reconcile this newfound softness with his hardened warrior persona.

You brought something different to the team. You brought a warmth and a kindness that radiated naturally. Your approach to handling both the missions and interpersonal relationships within the unit was refreshingly human. Where others respected Ghost for his tactical brilliance and saw him as a near-unflappable soldier. You engaged with him as a person first and foremost. You asked him questions about his day, showed interest in the small details. And sometimes you just offered a quiet presence when words were too cumbersome.

This human connection was something Ghost hadn't realized he was missing until you arrived. Your sweetness, your unguarded way of interacting not just with him but with everyone, gradually broke down the walls he had built around himself. You saw beyond the mask—both literal and metaphorical—to the complex man beneath. It was this genuine understanding and acceptance from you that deepened his affection and protectiveness. It fostered a friendship that was both surprising and profoundly meaningful.

In your interactions Ghost found a sanctuary in you. Each dialogue, each shared silence, reinforced something vital between the two of you. A sense of belonging and mutual respect that neither of you had anticipated but both secretly yearned for. Ghost's initial decision to take you under his wing, driven by an instinctive pull, blossomed into a relationship where both of you found solace, understanding, and ultimately a love that neither the harshness of your environment nor the specter of past wounds could diminish.

The wait for Ghost to come to your room feels almost interminable. Each minute ticking by slower than the last as the shadows in your room seem to deepen, mirroring your mood. Just as you start to second-guess your impulsive invitation a soft knock at the door jolts you from your somber thoughts. It's a sound too gentle for someone like Ghost whose presence is usually more commanding. But then again, he's always full of surprises.

You pad over to the door, your steps hesitant, and open it to find him there. His posture rigid, familiar balaclava in place, his eyes immediately searching yours for signs of distress. "Hey, Tex," he greets with a softness that belies the hardness of his profession. Using the nickname that feels like a balm and a sting all at once.

It was cute, the origin of the nickname only he used on you. One evening after a long day of training with TF 141 you and Ghost found yourselves alone tasked with checking and maintaining equipment. The work was meticulous and quiet offering a rare opportunity for more personal conversation. A rarity given the usual intensity of your environment.

As you both worked the conversation naturally drifted to lighter topics and you shared a humorous story about a road trip mishap you had years ago. You ended up mistakenly driving into Texas instead of your intended destination due to a mix-up with GPS directions. You recounted the events with such animated detail and humor. Making sure to mention how you ended up enjoying some of the best barbecue and meeting some incredibly friendly locals that it left a lasting impression on you.

Ghost listened intently with a rare smile playing on his lips as he worked. When you jokingly concluded that you might have been a Texan in another life because of how seamlessly you blended into the culture during your unintended visit, Ghost chuckled. It was a sound so scarce it marked the significance of the moment.

From then on he started calling you "Tex" in a teasing yet affectionate manner. It was his way of referencing that story which had not only entertained him but also revealed your ability to adapt and find joy in unexpected situations. The nickname stuck between the two of you as it became a symbol of your resilience and the easy friensdship that had developed between the two of you.

Each time Ghost called you "Tex” it was with a tone that mixed fondness and a hint of admiration reminding both of you of that shared moment of laughter and your storytelling prowess. This private joke between you became a subtle yet constant affirmation of the bond you were building. A bond based on shared stories, mutual respect, and an emerging deep, personal connection.

"Hi, Ghosty," you manage with your voice barely above a whisper. You step aside to let him in, but as you do, the use of 'Tex' makes your heart clench painfully. Your smile falters, a frown etching itself across your face as you're vividly reminded of what you're missing.

He notices the shift in your demeanor immediately. The way your eyes dart away from his gaze. "What's going on?" he asks as he steps inside making sure to close the door behind him with a quiet click. His voice is low, laced with a concern that makes your heart ache even more. "It's not like you to drink alone, without us," he adds. His tone soft but probing. This observation hits a nerve. Highlighting how out of character your actions seem tonight.

You can't meet his eyes, not yet, not when they're so filled with worry and understanding. "It’s my brother's birthday today," you confess with your voice cracking slightly. "I got a picture from my family. They're all there, celebrating... and I’m here." The words hang heavy in the air laden with a sadness that feels too big to contain.

Ghost steps back a little giving you space. "Let's sit down," he suggests gently nodding towards your bed. You move to sit on the edge, and he joins you. He maintained a respectful distance with his posture open and inviting you to continue.

You finally glance over at him and the tears that you've been holding back start to blur your vision. "I miss them, Ghost. I miss being part of those moments. It feels like I’m losing time, losing them..."

He listens in silence, but his presence was steady. "You’re not losing them, Tex. Not really. But I get it… it’s hard to miss out. You belong here with us though. It’s okay to wish you were there too."

At his words a ripple of uncertainty courses through you. "Do I really belong?" you find yourself questioning aloud. The words spilling out before you can hold them back. Your voice is tinged with an unusual vulnerability you’re so good at hiding, "Sometimes I feel like I'm a world away, like I don't quite fit anywhere anymore."

Ghost turns to look at you completely. His gaze intense even through the shadows cast by his balaclava. Noticing the sadness deepening in your eyes he softens his tone further addressing you more personally. "I know it feels that way sometimes, Y/N," he acknowledges using your first name in a rare break from nicknames signaling his serious concern. "But you've made a place for yourself here, with us. It’s not just about the missions. It’s about the moments we share, the tough days we get through together. You’re as much a part of this team as anyone is."

His reassurance carries weight, but the hollow feeling doesn’t dissipate completely. You nod, appreciating his effort to make you feel included. Yet part of you still wrestles with the feeling of displacement. It's comforting to have someone who understands, who sees the struggle and still stands by your side affirming your place even when you doubt it yourself. Tonight, Ghost isn't just a shadowy figure or a call sign. He's the anchor you didn't realize you needed.

The room grows quieter, the only sound the distant hum of the base's nocturnal life. You reach for the whiskey glass that had been forgotten during the initial turmoil of Ghost's arrival. Tilting the glass, you take a long, deliberate drink seeking the false courage it offers. The burn a temporary distraction from the ache inside.

Ghost watches you for a moment. His expression is unreadable behind the balaclava, yet his eyes—a deep well of understanding—never leave your face. “It’s okay to feel lost sometimes, Y/N. It doesn’t mean you’re alone,” he finally says with a soft but firm voice.

You nod, feeling the alcohol loosen your tongue and the tightness in your chest. "I just feel so guilty all the time, Ghost," you admit before setting the glass down with a little more force than necessary. "Everyone here has been nothing but supportive, and here I am upset because I missed a birthday party across the ocean."

He shifts slightly turning to face you more directly. There’s a pause, a breath of a moment where he seems to be choosing his words carefully. "Guilt is a heavy burden to carry, Y/N. And it’s a familiar one to me too. We've all had moments when we felt like we're not giving enough. Not present enough for those we left behind."

Seeing him open up about his own struggles is unexpectedly comforting. It's rare for Ghost to talk about his feelings and even rarer still to admit any weakness. His willingness to share that with you now tightens something in your throat.

"Sometimes I wonder if it's all worth it," you whisper unsure if you actually wanted him to hear your admission.

He reaches out to you. His hand hesitating in the air before gently landing on your shoulder. It was a small, uncharacteristic gesture of comfort. "We chose this life because we believed in something greater than ourselves," he starts. His voice steady. "Doesn't make the personal sacrifices any lighter, but it does give them meaning. And Y/N, you bring your own meaning to this team. More than you know."

Tears brim in your eyes, spilling over despite your best efforts. You're not usually this open, this raw, but with him, it feels safe, necessary even. "I just miss being sure of things, you know? Being sure of where I belong, sure of who needs me..."

Ghost nods, his hand squeezing your shoulder slightly. "I get that. But here’s what I’m sure of—you're needed here, more than you might see. Not just as a soldier, but as you, Y/N. Just by being here you make things better for everyone. For me."

Your breath hiccups at his words, at the honesty and the raw edge in his voice. In this quiet, vulnerable space, you both share more than just words. You share understanding, burdens, and silently, the beginning of something deeper, something neither of you might fully grasp yet. As the conversation drifts into a comfortable silence, you realize that tonight you didn't just find a confidant in Ghost. You found a mirror for your own vulnerabilities, and perhaps, a reason to keep fighting. Not just for the missions but for these moments of unexpected connection.

Tears trickle down your cheeks, unchecked and unbidden as Ghost's words sink deep. His affirmation, his understanding, it hits a part of you that's been raw and exposed for far too long. He looks at you. His eyes softening under the rim of his balaclava and it's as if he sees right through to the heart of your pain.

"Come here, love," he murmurs. His voice a gentle command that stirs something deep within you. He opens his arms and it's an invitation you can't resist—not tonight. You move almost instinctively. Your body responding before your mind can catch up. You find yourself climbing into his lap without so much as a second thought. His arms encircle you, strong and sure, and you melt into him. His chest is a solid wall against your cheek, you breathe him in, the faint scent of gunpowder and mint somehow reassuring and exactly what you needed.

He's so much bigger and stronger than you. An immovable presence that you've only ever admired from a distance. And he's Ghost—your not-so-secret crush, the man behind the mask, whose face you've never seen but whose soul you felt like you completely understood. As his arms tighten around you, holding you close, it's more than comfort. It's a need fulfilled. The simple yet profound need to be held, to feel wanted, to have someone not just willing but wanting to hold you.

You let yourself be held by him. The steady beat of his heart beneath your ear a soothing rhythm in the chaos of your emotions. His hand strokes your back gently. A soothing contrast to the strength of his arms, and you feel safe, protected in a way that goes beyond physical safety. Ghost isn't just a teammate, or a mysterious figure shrouded in intrigue. He's the person who understands your loneliness, your longing, and meets it with his own kind of longing. A connection that perhaps he's been craving too.

The weight of everything—the base, the missions, the distance from home—seems to lift slightly making room for something new, something hopeful. As you nestle closer, letting yourself sink into the warmth and strength of his embrace. You realize that this closeness is something you've been missing. Something you've been needing without even knowing it. And maybe, just maybe, he needed it too.

Cuddled securely in Ghost's embrace you find a moment of peace amidst the swirl of emotions. Slowly, you tilt your head up to look at him with a small smile blossoming across your face. The intimacy of the moment, the rare closeness with someone you've both feared and admired from afar ignites a warmth that had been absent for too long.

"What, love?" Ghost asks after noticing your gentle smile. His voice is tender yet tinged with curiosity and a hint of amusement.

You shake your head with the smile still playing on your lips ever so reluctant to break the comfortable silence that's settled between you. But he's persistent, definitely not satisfied with your silent amusement. "Come on, what is it?" he presses. His tone gentle yet insistent, coaxing you to share the secret of your smile.

When you answer him it’s the last thing he expected. "You have blonde eyelashes," you murmur, almost to yourself. The observation slipping out before you can think better of it. "You're a blondie, Ghosty."

He shakes his head at you with a subtle chuckle barely audible, his gaze holding a flicker of amusement that surprises you. "Blondie, huh?" he remarks. The words dry but with an underlying warmth that feels rare and genuine. "Never figured that'd be the thing to get noticed," he adds, his tone maintaining that typical Ghost edge—cool, composed, yet unexpectedly tender.

The playful comment, light and teasing, helps to bridge the gap between your roles within TF 141 and who you are beneath the surface. His chuckle fills you with an inexplicable joy, lightening the emotional weight of the night.

Encouraged by this lighter moment, he shifts slightly, adjusting his hold on you, making sure you're more comfortable in his lap. "You know," he starts again in a thoughtful tone, "I find it interesting what people notice when they really look."

This new dynamic in your conversation allows both of you to explore this newfound closeness without the heavier undertones of your earlier emotions. It's a welcome reprieve, a chance to see each other in a new light. And perhaps to start building something uniquely personal and intimate from the shared vulnerabilities and now your shared laughter. Relishing the warmth of his embrace and buoyed by the lightness of the moment there’s a playful boldness that's unlike you but feels just right for now. With a mischievous tilt of your head, you look up at him once more. Your eyes were sparkling with a mix of flirtation and genuine curiosity.

"Should've paid more attention to you, huh?" you tease. Your voice soft yet audacious. "Bet you're real pretty under that mask Ghosty."

The words hang in the air, utterly bold and flirtatious, marking a departure from your usual reserve. Ghost pauses at that. The slight tension in his posture the only sign that your comment has caught him off guard. Yet there's a hint of amusement in his eyes. A spark that suggests your boldness might not be unwelcome.

His response is slow, deliberate, as if measuring the weight of your words and his next move. "Maybe one day you'll find out love," he replies, his voice low, a tease laced with a promise that sends a thrill through you.

The exchange was daring and filled with undercurrents of mutual interest. It adds a new layer to the atmosphere, thick with potential and unspoken possibilities. As you nestle even closer to him you feel the solid certainty of his arms around you. You can't help but feel that tonight might just be the beginning of something unexpected and exhilarating. A far departure from how you were feeling even just an hour prior.

As you rest your head against his chest, feeling the thrum of his quickening heartbeat, Ghost finds himself at a crossroads of vulnerability and longing. The playful flirtation, the warmth of your body against his… it's stirring emotions within him that he usually keeps locked away under layers of discipline and duty.

"A girl can dream, hmm?" Your words were light yet laden with unspoken wishes. They echo in his heart. He tightens his hold on you further. A protective gesture that also serves to reassure himself. You're trusting him in a way that no one else does, reaching out for comfort and perhaps more.

Ghost takes a deep breath, the fabric of his balaclava stretching slightly with the movement. The thought of removing the mask, of showing you the scars that mar his face, the physical reminders of battles fought and narrowly survived, suddenly feels less daunting. He adores you, more than he's willing to admit aloud. And that adoration mixed with trust makes him consider revealing his true self.

In this moment Ghost's internal conflict is palpable. He's been grappling with the idea of showing you his face for some time. A gesture that holds significant weight given the secretive and guarded nature of his life. The scars, which he typically regards as badges of survival and resilience, suddenly morph into vulnerabilities when he thinks about revealing them to you. This is not just about physical appearance. It's about letting someone into the most guarded parts of his existence.

Ghost's decision to consider this step now isn't just a spur-of-the-moment choice. It's been building up. You represent a safe haven for him. Someone who might understand and accept his past and the physical evidence of it without judgment. It's this trust and the depth of his feelings for you that push him toward vulnerability. The act of removing the balaclava would symbolize his willingness to lower his defenses and invite you into a more intimate, authentic part of his life. A significant leap for someone whose identity is so closely tied to his role as an elite operative.

In essence, the potential unveiling is more than revealing his face; it's an invitation into his deeper self, a crucial step in any meaningful relationship, intensified here by the layers of his hidden world.

"You know," he starts, his voice a delicate blend of resolve and hesitation, "sometimes, what we dream of isn't as far out of reach as we think." His statement was laden with vulnerability and causes your heart to swell with empathy and affection for this man who has faced so much yet stands so strong before you.

As Ghost's hands hover tentatively at the edge of his mask, the weight of his decision palpable in the air, your eyes meet his with a depth of understanding and gentleness. His fingers, curled around the fabric, pause as he seems to search your face for the reassurance he needs to move forward.

He continues, his voice lowering further, almost unsure by his bold actions. "If I show you, promise me something. Promise me you'll see beyond the scars." The sincerity and slight fear in his voice tug at you, compelling you to act. To reassure him in any way you can.

You reach out slowly, your hand moving to cover his where it still grips the mask. Your touch is light but firm, grounding, a physical manifestation of your support. "You don't have to do this," you whisper back. Your voice gentle but earnest. "I never want to push you if you're uncomfortable."

As you speak your other hand moves up instinctively giving his bicep a gentle squeeze. A silent message of reassurance and strength. "Whatever you’re ready to share, whenever you’re ready, that’s okay with me. I just want you to feel safe, not just with me but for yourself too."

Your words and the warm pressure of your hands convey everything you feel—your respect for his boundaries, your readiness to accept him as he is, and your desire to ensure his comfort above all. You smile softly hoping to convey a sense of peace and acceptance, wanting him to feel the depth of your care without any pressure.

Ghost looks down at your hands. Your much smaller fingers were intertwined with his, feeling the warmth and strength from your touch. The physical connection seems to bolster him, providing a tangible sense of support and acceptance. After a moment, he gives a small nod. An acknowledgment of your words and the comfort they bring. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Ghosty.” You assure him.

Before you can continue Ghost places a finger over your lips silencing your gentle flood of reassurances. His touch is light but there’s a decisiveness in his gesture that catches your attention. Looking into your eyes with a newfound intensity, he tilts his head slightly with a hint of a challenge in his gaze. "But what if I want to?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

His question hangs in the air loaded with possibilities and the promise of a deeper connection. His eyes search yours, looking for an answer, permission, understanding. “If you’re sure.” You looked into his eyes searching for any sort of doubt, but you couldn’t seem to find any.

Ghost's hand reaches up slowly, the weight of the decision evident in every measured movement. His fingers were rough and calloused from years of wielding weapons and facing harsh conditions. They tremble slightly as they hook around the edge of the balaclava. There's a moment's hesitation. A silent plea in his eyes as they lock onto yours, seeking reassurance. Your nod is gentle but firm, encouraging.

With a deep, steadying breath that lifts his chest and fills the air with anticipation, he pulls the fabric up and away from his face. The mask slides over his nose, past scars, and weathered skin, and finally clears his sharp jawline. The reveal is gradual with each inch of skin exposed adding layers to the man you've come to know. His scars map out a history of survival and silent battles.

As the balaclava comes off completely he allows it to drop from his fingers. His gaze never leaving yours. For a moment, he stands bare—not just physically but emotionally too. The vulnerability displayed in this act deepens everything between you profoundly. Ghost, the soldier fades into the background allowing the man behind the mask, marked by life but standing resilient, to shine through.

You see him clearly now. Not just as the formidable operative known as Ghost, but Simon, marked by his past but not defined by it. This shared moment of vulnerability cements a deeper connection. A space where truths are acknowledged without words and where your understanding and acceptance begin to kindle something far more profound than either of you had anticipated.

"Simon," you whisper. His name a gentle caress in the quiet of the room. The air between you thickens with vulnerability and you notice a slight tension in his posture. The uncertainty in his eyes. It's clear he's nervous, unaccustomed to such openness, to being seen so completely.

"May I?" you ask softly requesting permission not just to touch him but to bridge the final gap between your mutual vulnerabilities. At his hesitant nod you move closer. In a bold move you straddle his lap to minimize the distance. Your hands rise to his face, gentle and reassuring. As your fingers trace the texture of his scars you watch each reaction flicker across his features. Fleeting moments of surprise, of relief, of something tender blooming underneath.

As you study Simon’s unmasked face your heart surges with a deep and profound respect. The air between you feels charged with the significance of this moment as he allows himself to be seen, truly seen, perhaps for the first time in too long.

"Look at you," you whisper to him. Your voice laced with warmth and awe. You gaze at him more lovingly than even he could have anticipated. Your fingers gently trace the contours of his face. Your touch light but filled with intent, meant to comfort, and reassure him in his vulnerability. "You're so incredibly strong, Simon."

As your thumbs smooth over his cheeks, you can feel him relax slightly under your touch. His usual guardedness giving way to a tentative acceptance of your care. "And you’re beautiful. So handsome." you continue, each word deliberate and sincere. "Not despite these scars but because of them. They're not just marks. They're medals of your courage. Symbols of your endurance."

Simon's breath caught in his throat as he absorbed your words. No one had ever looked at him this way before. Seen him so completely and accepted him so fully. The barriers he had meticulously built around himself seemed to crumble under the gentle touch of your fingers and the sincere love in your voice. In this moment, stripped of his mask and the persona of Ghost, Simon felt truly seen. The fear that had knotted in his chest began to dissolve instead replaced by a warmth that spread through him, kindling a connection that went beyond the physical, touching something deep within his soul.

"Every line," you continued tracing one gently with your fingertip, "tells a story of survival, of fights bravely fought, of a life fiercely lived. They make you... uniquely you." Your voice is thick with admiration. Your eyes were locked in on his ensuring he feels the weight of your words.

Simon looks back at you, visibly moved. His eyes, usually a fortress of stoic resolve, now shimmer slightly with unshed tears. The walls he's built around himself seem to tremble under the warmth of your gaze and the sincerity in your voice. At your words, Simon's eyes hold yours. A mixture of awe and something that looks a lot like relief. You lean in with your forehead resting against his, sharing a breath, sharing a moment of profound connection.

Simon finds himself at the mercy of a cascade of emotions with feelings he's tightly regulated and kept at bay through years of training and harsh realities. As he looks into your eyes—eyes filled with genuine care and admiration—he experiences a vulnerability that is both terrifying and exhilarating.

Inside, Simon is grappling with a mix of disbelief and wonder. The walls he's constructed around his heart, built to protect, and isolate, are wavering under the gentle but persistent tide of your compassion. Each word you speak, each tender touch, challenges his long-held beliefs about himself and his worth. The fortress of stoic resolve that has always been his shield is now nearly crumbled by the warmth of your gaze. In the understanding in your voice.

Can she truly see something in me that I've failed to recognize? he wonders silently baffled by the idea that his scars and battles, which he has always viewed as disfigurements and burdens, could be seen as marks of beauty and strength. Your touch of tracing his face with such intimate loving care doesn't just map the physical contours of his scars but also traces the deeper emotional wounds he's carried silently for so long.

As your forehead rests against his, sharing this profound moment of connection, Simon feels a shift within himself. A melting of ice that he didn't realize had encased his heart. The feeling of being understood, truly and deeply, without the need for masks or defenses is profoundly disarming. It stirs something in him that feels dangerously close to hope, to love.

In the quiet of this shared moment Simon begins to accept the possibility that he may not only be capable of loving but that he is already deep in the throes of it especially after witnessing the care and devotion with which you regard him. It's a realization that brings both fear and a surprising relief. The kind of relief that comes from finally settling down a heavy burden he hadn't fully acknowledged carrying.

Amidst these revelations he feels a gratitude that tightens his throat. An overwhelming appreciation for the woman before him who sees beyond the surface, who sees him not as a collection of scars and stories, but as a whole person worthy of love and affection. This connection, this acceptance, it's something he's longed for without even realizing it. And now faced with its reality he's both humbled and profoundly moved.

"You see all this in me?" he finally managed to ask with his voice barely above a whisper. As if speaking louder might break the spell of this intimate exchange.

"It breaks my heart that you don't, Si," you respond softly. Your voice laced with both sadness and affection. It's rare for you to use that nickname, but in this moment it feels just right. Intimate and genuine.

As your fingers maintain their gentle contact on his face Simon feels a surge of emotions that almost overwhelms him. Your words were so full of sincerity and depth and pierce through the layers of self-doubt and isolation he has wrapped around himself for so long. "You should see yourself the way I see you. Not just for what you’ve been through but for who you are because of it. You’re remarkable, Simon. And yes, I see all of this and so much more." Each word resonates within him, echoing in the spaces he's kept guarded and hidden from the world.

As he absorbs the weight of your affirmation Simon's heart feels like it could burst from the sheer intensity of what he's experiencing. It's as if your words have unlocked something within him. A floodgate opening to reveal depths of emotion he had long disregarded as unreachable. The shock of realizing that he can feel so deeply that he might indeed love and be loved in return washes over him with an almost palpable force.

For years Simon has compartmentalized his emotions viewing them as potential weaknesses in the unforgiving environments he's navigated. But now being held by your gaze and touched by your understanding he finds himself reconsidering everything he thought he knew about his capacity for emotion. The realization that he does love you and that he has perhaps loved you in ways he hadn't allowed himself to fully acknowledge comes as both a shock and a beautiful revelation.

As he exhales softly, releasing the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, a mix of relief and wonder fills him. The connection you share seems to solidify into something tangible, something real and powerful. Your ability to see him—not just the soldier, not just the scars, but Simon, the man behind the mask—instills in him a newfound sense of worthiness and belonging. In the warmth of your touch and the earnestness of your words Simon finds a new perspective on himself and his place in the world. It's as if your belief in him has lent him the strength to believe in himself. To accept the possibility of a future shaped not by solitude and sacrifice but by love and mutual understanding.

This emotional turning point is not just a revelation of his feelings for you but an awakening to the idea that he can be loved for all that he is, scars and strengths alike. As he looks into your eyes filled with appreciation and a dawning recognition of his worth. Simon knows that whatever the future holds it has been irrevocably altered by the truth and beauty of this moment.

As the emotional weight of the moment hangs between you, you sense the intensity overwhelming Simon in the wake of his newfound realizations. To lighten the mood and bring a touch of levity back into the exchange you offer him a radiant, genuine smile. Your eyes sparkle with affection and a playful teasing tone colors your voice as you look into his eyes which are now more open and vulnerable than ever.

“I was right though,” you say with a quiet giggle as your smile broadened “You are real pretty under that mask.”

Simon's eyes light up at your playful remark. A spark of joy dancing in them as he absorbs the lighter mood you've introduced. His smile spreads across his face softening the lines and scars that mark his experiences. The laughter you share serves as a reminder of the normalcy and comfort that can exist even in moments filled with deep emotional revelations.

After the laughter subsides Simon's expression turns tender. His eyes still holding yours with an intensity that speaks volumes. Leaning in slightly, the proximity bridging any remaining space between you. He mirrors your intimate gesture with one of his own. His hand, previously resting cautiously at his side, now reaches up to gently cup your face. The touch is soft but deliberate. Filled with affection and a newfound confidence.

"You've always seen more than most," Simon says. His voice low and filled with emotion. "Not just the surface, but the stories and the scars beneath. For that, I’m more grateful than I can express."

He pauses, his thumb now tracing the contour of your cheek in a slow, affectionate caress. "And you," Simon continues with his voice softening further. Softer than you’ve ever heard with a gentle sincerity underscoring his words, "are truly beautiful. In ways that go beyond what's visible. Your strength, your compassion… it shines through in everything you do."

The intimacy of his touch and his words draw you even closer, knitting your connection tighter. Simon's actions reveal his comfort and trust in you. Showcasing his willingness to not only accept the love and acceptance offered but to return it in kind. In this shared space, filled with genuine smiles and soft touches, the foundation of your relationship deepens. It promised a future where both laughter and earnest declarations have a place.

Your heart now feels as if it might burst right out of your chest. Simon’s words, laden with genuine admiration for who you are beyond the surface, touch you profoundly. You've always felt a strong connection with him but hearing him articulate his appreciation for your inner qualities. It's overwhelming in the most beautiful way.

A single tear escapes without your permission tracing a path down your cheek, not out of sadness but from the sheer intensity of emotion swirling within you. Simon notices the tear and his expression softens further. Gently, he wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. His touch tender and filled with utmost concern.

As Simon's gentle fingers brush away the tear from your cheek the sweet gesture triggers something deep within you. The floodgates open and a rush of emotions surge forward. You feel an overwhelming mix of relief, gratitude, and a profound connection that you've never experienced so intensely before. Each tear that falls feels like a release of feelings too long held back.

Noticing your distress Simon acts with instinctive care. He gently guides you back into his lap wrapping his strong arms around you. The closeness of his embrace feels like a sanctuary as you nestle into his chest, letting your tears flow freely. Simon rocks you gently. His presence a calming force in the storm of your emotions. "It's okay, it'll all be okay," he murmurs soothingly, his voice a steady, comforting rumble against your ear. Each word he whispers is a balm, helping to steady your shaking breaths as you cry it all out. The built-up emotions washing over you.

After a few moments as the tide of your tears begins to subside, you lift your head to look up at him. Simon meets your gaze with a gentle smile. The softness in his eyes reflecting his deep care for you. "You alright, love?" he asks full of concern and affection for you.

You nod slowly, still nestled in the safety of Simon's embrace. The warmth from his body lending you calm. "I'm sorry, I just got overwhelmed," you explain with your voice barely above a whisper. The flood of emotions was unexpected yet not unwelcome. "It's just... all of this, hearing how you see me. Being this close to you," you continue as your eyes searched his for understanding. "It means so much to me, Simon. More than I can really express."

Simon's smile is genuine as he watches you. Understanding flickering in his eyes as he gently rocks you, keeping you close. "There's nothing to apologize for, love," he reassures you. His voice a steady presence. "It’s okay to feel this deeply. It's okay to let it show. I don’t mind a bit."

His words, affirming and gentle, help to steady the last remnants of your emotional whirlwind. As you slowly pull back to look at him again his hand remains comforting on your back, always reassuring.

"You alright now?" he asks after a moment of watching you closely. His voice low and husky.

Nodding, you manage a more composed smile this time, touched by his patience and care. "Yes, I'm alright. Thank you, Simon. For being here. For understanding," you say with gratitude coloring your tone.

Simon’s response is a tender squeeze of his arms around you. A nonverbal promise of his continued support. "Always," he murmurs. The simplicity of that single word carries with it the weight of his commitment.

In this quiet space held in Simon's arms you realize the strength that lies in vulnerability and the beauty of being seen and accepted. It’s a profound moment between the two of you. One that you both will cherish as a cornerstone of your relationship, built on understanding, respect, and heartfelt emotion.

As you rest quietly in Simon's embrace, comforted by his gentle rocking and the soothing timbre of his voice, you notice a subtle shift in his demeanor. His gaze usually so guarded and controlled now holds an unmistakable depth of emotion. The intimacy of the moment, coupled with the rawness of your tears seems to have broken down the last barriers he had in place.

Simon takes a deep breath as if steeling himself to cross a threshold he's been guarding for too long. "Seeing you like this, feeling so much right alongside you... it's made me realize something," he starts. His voice thick with emotion. His eyes lock onto yours deciding not to hold anything back. "I… I need you to know."

He pauses ensuring he has your full attention. His hands still gently cradling you. "I want to be there for you, not just now but always. I want to be the one you lean on, the one who gets to see all the sides of you, the beautiful, the tough, the vulnerable." His words pour out, fervent and sincere. "I want to be your person, love. If you'll have me."

The confession hangs in the air, bold and heartfelt. Simon's face is open, hopeful yet anxious, as he gauges your reaction. It's clear this isn't just a sudden admission but something he's been grappling with. The intensity of the current situation pushing his feelings to the surface.

You blink back a fresh wave of tears, not from sadness, but from a bewildering mix of joy and doubt. His words are everything you wanted to hear yet they also echo in the corners of your mind where you harbor insecurities. You see him—Simon, so confident, so capable. The embodiment of everything you admire. And then there’s you, the ‘inexperienced little American girl’ as you harshly label yourself, suddenly feeling all the more plain and unworthy beside him.

“Simon,” you start. Your voice wavering not just with emotion but with the weight of your own self-doubt. “Why me? You’re… you’re incredible, and I’m just… I don’t know, I always feel like I’m just stumbling around you. I’m not sure what you see in someone like me.”

As your insecurities surface, revealing the depth of your unsureness, Simon's expression shifts into one of immediate concern and gentle reproof. "Love, you can't be serious…" he begins. His voice imbued with a firm conviction that makes you pause. "You're everything and more. You don’t see that?"

He makes sure you're looking directly at him with his hands tenderly cradling your face, ensuring that you feel the weight and sincerity of his words. "You see inexperience, but I see a woman who bravely faces every new challenge. Who learns and adapts, who grows stronger every day. You’re not just someone trying to keep up. You're someone who enhances our team with your unique strengths and perspective."

Simon's voice softens even further as he continues. Each word carefully chosen to convey his deep admiration and affection. "Every time you think you're just scrambling to catch up, I see someone gracefully navigating through obstacles. What you call inexperience, I call a journey of growth and courage. And that’s what draws me to you. Not just your resilience but your authenticity. The realness you bring to every situation is unguarded and genuine."

He leans in closer reducing the space between you, his gaze locked with yours in an intense, heartfelt connection. "To me, you are a woman who has taught me more about heart and perseverance than anyone else. You bring laughter, support, and challenge to my life in ways you don’t even realize."

Simon shakes his head slightly, a smile tinged with affection and a hint of awe breaking through. "You being you, with all your doubts, your laughs, your dreams—that's what I want and need. You might feel like you're just keeping pace, but love, in my eyes, you're flying. And I want to be there to support you. To celebrate every victory and help you through every challenge."

Simon's words not only offer reassurance but also begin to dismantle the walls of doubt you've built around yourself just as he had. His belief in you, his unwavering support, resonates deeply, perhaps starting to shift how you view yourself. No longer as a mere participant trying to keep up but as an invaluable member of the team whose journey and contributions are deeply cherished.

Overwhelmed by Simon's heartfelt words you find yourself momentarily speechless. His deep belief in your worth and his unwavering support pierce through the layers of your self-doubt, striking a chord deep within you. It's as if his words have not only reached your ears but also wrapped around your heart, offering both solace and a profound reassurance.

Without a word you lean forward, burying your face in the warmth of Simon's chest. The sturdy beat of his heart under your ear is comforting. A steady rhythm in the storm of emotions you're navigating. As you inhale deeply, you're enveloped by his familiar scent, a mixture that's uniquely Simon—part strength, part safety. It's grounding, helping you anchor yourself in the reality of his presence. In the truth of his words.

Simon's arms encircle you gently once more. His hand finding its way to your back where he begins to rub soothing circles. The simple gesture is nurturing, allowing you the space and comfort to collect your thoughts. To let the emotional turbulence settle into a sense of peace. His patience is palpable. There's no rush, no urgency, just a steady presence as he holds you. Affirming that he's there for you, not just in moments of strength but also in moments of vulnerability.

In the sanctuary of Simon's embrace, you feel a deep gratitude washing over you. His support not only uplifts you but also starts to reshape the way you view yourself. The doubts that once loomed large now begin to shrink, overshadowed by the new perspective he's given you—one where you are valued, capable, and cherished.

As you slowly lift your head to meet his gaze your eyes are reflective of the emotions still swirling within you but also shining with a newfound confidence. The connection you share has deepened, strengthened by vulnerability and honesty. You're ready to voice your thoughts, to respond to his openness with your own. “Simon,” you begin. Your voice a whisper that carries all the depth of your emotions, “Can I kiss you?”

The moment hangs suspended. Your question lingering between you, filled with anticipation. Simon’s response is not in words but actions. A reflection of the straightforward, decisive man you know him to be. With a swift, gentle motion, he cups your face in his hands once more. His touch reassuring and intent. Before you can react further he pulls you closer and presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is a surge of warmth and tenderness. Deepening as if to make up for all the unspoken times you both held back. It's a kiss that communicates more than any words could. Filled with all the emotions that have been steadily brewing—a mixture of relief, affection, and undisguised longing.

When you finally come up for air Simon's eyes twinkle with a mixture of delight and affection. A sweet smirk playing on his lips. “Thought you’d never ask, love,” he teases gently. His voice a soft rumble that sends a thrill through you. The playfulness in his tone lightens the intensity of the moment adding a layer of joy to the emotional depth you've shared.

Amidst the deep embrace, as Simon's arms encircle you, creating a world that consists only of the two of you, his question still lingers in the air. A soft echo amidst the intensity of your mutual connection. "Is that a yes?" His voice, though light and teasing, carries an undercurrent of earnest desire for affirmation, a confirmation of the bond you both feel.

Your body is pressed against his feeling the reassuring strength of his chest. The protective circle of his arms and the gentle touch of his hands tracing soothing patterns on your back. The physical closeness amplifies the emotional intimacy of the moment making the space between heartbeats seem significant filled with unspoken promises and shared dreams.

You lift your head from the sanctuary of his chest meeting his gaze which is alight with anticipation and warmth. His eyes, so often a bastion of resolve, now hold a tender vulnerability, waiting for your words, your confirmation.

"Yes, Simon," you respond, your voice soft but filled with conviction, the words flowing effortlessly in the safety of his hold. "Absolutely it's a yes. I can't imagine being with anyone else but you." The smile that spreads across your face mirrors the joy and sincerity in your heart.

As you speak your hand gently caresses his cheek feeling the slight roughness of his skin beneath your fingertips grounding the moment in the tactile reality of his presence. Simon's reaction is immediate as a deep, relieved breath. And his eyes close for a brief moment, savoring the words that have sealed the understanding between you.

When he opens his eyes again there's a new light in them, one of deep contentment and resolve. He leans in to capture your lips with his once more. This kiss infused with the joy of mutual acceptance and the excitement of a future together. It's a kiss that reaffirms everything that has been shared, a tender seal on the promises made.

Pulling back slightly, Simon's forehead rests against yours. A contented sigh escaping him. "I was hoping you'd say that," he murmurs, his voice a low hum filled with happiness. "You have no idea how much you mean to me."

In the cocoon of Simon's embrace, the air around you pulses with a newfound joy, each moment intensifying the connection that binds you together. With each word, each touch, Simon showers you with the love and affection that he's held back for so long. His lips find yours again, this time more eagerly, conveying emotions too powerful for words.

As Simon deepens the kiss, he pauses briefly, pulling back just enough to gaze into your eyes with an expression brimming with tenderness. "You're so beautiful," he whispers. The warmth of his breath caressing your face as he plants soft kisses along your jawline. Each kiss seems to say what words cannot fully express, marking a trail of affection that sends tingles through your body.

Trailing kisses down your neck, he murmurs, "The prettiest girl I've ever seen," his voice a velvety whisper that wraps around you like a soothing blanket. The sincerity in his tone, coupled with the gentle press of his lips against your skin, makes your heart flutter and your pulse quicken.

He then moves back up to meet your gaze again, his hands cradling your face with a reverence that makes you feel cherished in ways you'd only imagined. "And you're not just beautiful, you're the smartest woman I know," he adds. His admiration for your intellect just as palpable as his physical attraction. His thumbs gently stroke your cheeks as he continues, "Watching you solve problems that stump everyone else—it's incredible."

Simon's compliments flow seamlessly as he explores your face with his kisses. Each touch a testament to his deepening feelings. With every word, every gentle caress, you feel more seen and appreciated than ever before. The connection deepens, wrapping both of you in a tender intimacy that feels both exhilarating and profoundly right.

As you lie there, enveloped in Simon's love and adoration, a giggle escapes you. A sound of pure happiness and contentment. You've never felt so loved, so valued. In Simon's arms, with his voice whispering sweet affirmations, you feel an overwhelming sense of belonging. He's not just a partner. He's your person in every sense, and in this perfect heartfelt moment you trust him completely and utterly.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @kenn-spencerswifey @guacam011y @illisea @hiireadstuff @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

[nia-writes]

Headcannons of Jealous and possessive Ghost and Konig 😙😙

Please include:

1. What they would say/do to the other person if they were flirting with you

2. What they would say/do to you if you were being flirted with

3. Smut HC for jealous angry fucking hehe

4. Would they apologise for being possessive and jealous

Thank you

Hi~ I absolutely love this request! Thank you for sending it <3 I got a bit carried away~ also I’m just learning to write smut so please don’t judge too hard

Minors DNI!! 18+

A/N: female reader! NSFW, rough sex, the boys being mean, fingering, choking let me know if I missed any a little OOC Konig?

My requests are open~~

Ghosty~

Gimme jealous Ghost-

You’re at the bar with the 141, after successful mission

Of course, Johnny, Gaz and yourself were having a drinking competition- while Price gives his disappointed dad stare.

Simon’s eyes never left you, each passing second he was growing more and more possessive.

He hated the way his other teammates touched you, even though it’s innocent. The way Johnny playfully nudges you, or when Gaz rests his arm on your shoulder.

He knew it was innocent- but he couldn’t stop the growing jealousy in his chest.

You lost a game of cards, it’s your turn to buy some drinks. As you got up from your seat, you ruffled Johnny’s mohawk, Simon growled at that, his mask muffled the noise.

As you wait by the bar, playing with your necklace, a man slips himself next to you. He was friendly- funny, a bit flirty but you shot him down immediately.

Simon was not happy. He grew possessive, his eyes flashed red as he got up from his seat, dashing his way to you.

You noticed him and smiled- telling the other man "This is my boyfriend!" Super proud to call him that.

But Simon was already in a fit of jealousy and possessiveness, and before you knew it, he wrapped his shoulders around you, leading you out the bar.

Before he does, he shoots a nasty glare at the man, causing him to leave.

Your eyes widen in surprise, as you glance over at him. "Everything ok, big boy?” You asked, your anxiety only growing as he stays silent.

Simon opened the car door, waiting for you to enter. You give him one last glance before entering, when you did, he slammed the door shut.

The car ride home was silent, not even the sounds of your breathing can be heard. You try to lighten up the mood up a bit, "Is this your new way of talking?” You joked, lightly touching his arm.

"Do you like it when other men touch you?"

This caught you off guard- your eyes widen as your mouth parts. Your brain malfunctions as you try to process his words.

"I- what? No! You know I only want you to!" You reassured, but Simon clicks his tongue.

"Didn’t seem that way, little one."

"Simon? What are you talking about?” It then clicked for you, "Oh! The guy at the bar? He- that was innocent, I swear. I shot him down so quick!" You defended.

Simon stays quiet- and you knew he was jealous.

Once you’re home, he wastes no time in coming to your side, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you over his shoulder. You yelp in surprise, as he harshly smacks your ass.

He doesn’t make it past the door before he’s on you, shoving you against the closed door. His hands trail between your legs, slipping a finger in your panties. "Wet already? Knew it, dirty slut" he growled in your ear.

Before you can respond, he’s turned you around- your front pressed against the door. You hear his belt buckle behind you, your panties get ripped off, before he presses himself to you.

"I’m gonna be rough, baby" he warned, rubbing himself against you.

Simon fucks all his jealousy out on you, over and over again. He won’t play with your clit- doesn’t let you either. He has your hands above your head, fucking you with so much force the door rattles. "You’re going to cum from only my cock"

"Bet you’re thinking of that fucker, aren’t you?" He said, gripping your hips and pressing you closer to him. "Gonna think about him when you cum" he teases, pinching your nipple.

When you do cum, he doesn’t stop his pace- he picks it up instead. He wants you drunk on his cock, the only thing in your mind how good he’s fucking you.

Afterwards, he does apologise. He knows you would never betray his trust, his jealousy and possessiveness got the best of him.

He gives you the best aftercare, cuddling you close while whispering how much he loves you.

König~

König has his leg pressed against yours, his arm behind your head as you both sit peacefully in the common area of the barracks.

Since he’s not into PDA, you both show affection in small ways. Hand holding, arms or legs touching and occasionally, when its just the two of you, small kisses.

You were telling Konig a story about your rookie days, he smiles as he listens, in love with how expressive you are.

When, suddenly, an old friend of yours comes in the common area.

"Y/n!" He exclaimed, a huge smile on his face.

Your eyes shoot up to him, a smile appearing on your face. "Oh my god, Harry!" You rush over to him, hugging him tightly.

While the both of you talk, Koing stares at you, both in hurt and jealousy. He knows you're just excited to see your old friend, but he can’t help but feel a little insecure.

Your excitedly turn to him, "This my boyfriend, Konig!" You introduced, proud of who your partner is.

Harry eyes Konig, with a scoff he turns back to you. "Seriously? you choose that guy..."

Before you can defend your man, Konig is already out the room. You punch Harry in his stomach before running after him, scared that hes hurting.

You enter his room, seeing him on the bed you think hes upset. But, hes angry. Trying to contain himself to not fuck you senseless. You reach over and place a hand on his shoulder, and he snaps.

He grabs your waist and throws you on the bed, straddling you with his weight.

"Konig, i-"

"Shut it." He growled, his hand coming up to your neck, squeezing slightly. "You belong to me. Only me."

His hand trails to your trousers, unbuttoning them before roughly dipping his fingers into your wet heat.

You cry out as his ruthless pace, his fingers not slowing down. "I'm being nice and prepping you, be grateful"

Before you can cum, he removes his fingers. You don't have any time to complain as he enters himself inside. You moan and your fingers grip his arm, hard enough to draw blood.

" This pussy is for me only" he growled, quickening his pace.

Unlike Simon, he bullies your clit. Not letting you have any time to recover as he doesn't stop when you cum.

You don't know how many orgasms he ripped out from you- all you can think about is him.

Afterwards, he's more apologetic than Simon. He went too far with you, and he'd cuddle you close to him, rubbing a soothing hand over your arms and legs.

[maskednihilism]

ooc. I mean Sampo should get impaled for him to get his 5* form xD

I was talking to Ghostie and I do adore the idea of him just putting on his mask and having a Sailor Moon-esque transformation.

But I am a sadist and want to see him get impaled like how REDACTED got impaled in 2.0

Right in his chest. Just a good stabbing.

For Dan Heng and Sampo specifically tho, I found this video and I think they should at least transform like this 🥰 just two bros transforming to save the day.

[mybrainisoveractive]

Ahem ahem I present to you, not in any order, some words/phrases/ideas I associate with these fandoms (including things from fanfics & memes):

Percy Jackson- baby seal eyes

- Percy 'imma just insult the Gods' Jackson

- literally any demigod memes or/and water related memes (tho technically can be used for H2O)

Naruto- Sasugay

- that one drawing of Sasuke sitting with his fingers interlocked and just staring

-the bad timing pause effect on Sasuke (distorted body in an 'S' shape and arms in an inverted 'C' shape) with the caption 'I can see you! ' in a black box with the caption: S A S U K E he can see you'

White Collar - Neal NO!

- Mozzie making ridiculous theories

- crossover with Batman/DCU

Danny Phantom- little ghosty

- little baby man (LBM)

- literally anything green and/or glowy

- vivisection (AO3 tag)

- crossover with DCU/JLA/Batman

Merlin BBC (TV Show) - Arthur 'I must be lucky! ' Merlin 'hell no, that was me'

- clotpole (actually spelled 'clotpoll' outdated slang term for idiot/dolt)

- 'your Royal Pratness'

- Gay but Not Gay aka very very Close Platonic friends

- crossovers with Harry Potter (AO3)

Lout of the Count's Family (LCF) / Trash of the Count's Family (TCF) - Cale 'i want slacker life' , never really actually had the opportunity to Slack, half of which is his own fault

- Cale 'lemme just stab myself with a stick through my heart'

- ✨Misunderstandings✨

- 'cough cough.. oh shit there's blood'

The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System (SVSSS) - Shen 'I need to hug the thighs of the protagonist' Yuan

-Bingpup

- 'I can't be OOC!' That is Still OOC anyway

Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint - Self-insert Fanfic

- Kim 'im gonna sacrifice myself' Dokja/Kim 'im Yoo Joonghyuk' Dokja

- squid

- dumpling

- Sunfish

- regression

- existential crisis

- space time continuum

Jujutsu Kaisen (JJK) - death, death and dead

- Gojo aka the one with expensive eyes (and everyone simps for it)

Demon Slayer - Muzan 'he dies, she dies, everyone di- oh shit' Kibutsuji

Attack On Titans (AOT) - Eren 'im gonna kill all titans as revenge! But also..Like you know.. (✨becomes a titan✨)' Yeager

- Levi aka (also) the one everyone simps for (who is also a germophobe)

Case Closed (CC)/Detective Conan (DC) - teen ➡️ child

- teenchild blends in but still comes across murders and help solves it

- Teenchild also goes to teen-pretending-to-be-adult (dead dad)'s heist.

-Teenchild has crush on teen who is taking care of teenchild

- Teenchild is canonically called shinigami

Untitled Goose Game - a normal everyday murderous Goose

- 🪿 🔪

Batman- Furry Combat Brigade

- too many goddamn universes to keep up

- Bat 'i work alone' man/ Bat 'adoption problem' man

- alive ➡️ dead ➡️ alive

- Tim's lost spleen/ Tim Drake's Missing Spleen tag on AO3

Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) - war, war some more war

- Ironman vs captain America thingy

- wrinkled grape with stones

-Some time travel thing

-ironman with stones

Harry Potter - 'you are a wizard, Harry! ' 'you are a hairy wizard! "

- annual murder attempts

- 'did ya put ya name in da goblet of fire?!!?! ' Dumbledore asked calmly

My Hero Academia (MHA)/Boku no Hīrō Akademia (BNHA) - we do not talk about the ships, there are no ships sailing anywhere, not today, not in my mind, especially not the weird ones, please

- weird powers

-how did some students get in class 1-a?

-some people simping for Aizawa (his neck? I think)

- midnight's death 😔

- Aizawa's leg

- Hawk's... Everything(sad boi)

二哈和他的白貓師尊/The Husky and His White Cat Shizun/Erha (2ha)- sad backstory

- similar to SVSSS but sadder (probably cause of the different povs)

- love triangle (I think?)

Alex Rider - child spy

- Bombs✨

-quite a lot of dead people for a teen book

-child assassin

-pickpocket

Special mention(s):

-Hellblazer #247 (John Constantine)

-badly explaining all of omniscient reader in 6 minutes (YouTube vid by ferd) (if you want to know about orv without being spoiled but confused)

- So This is Basically My Hero Academia (YouTube vid by JelloApocalypse)

[wynterlanding]

get to know the author!

name : ash!

pronouns :  she/her

preference of communication : tumblr ims honestly. After some iffy experiences I no longer give out my discord to just anybody. I have to speak to you for a while on tumblr/interact/ooc chat (just make sure you actually wanna write with my muse & we gel) before I even feel comfortable doing it anymore. As unfortunate as that is BUT dms are always open here.

most active muse :  If you can't tell it's Landon lol He has his own solo space apart from his low activity connected universe multi. WHICH is only available to mains rn. But he lives in my head rent free so it's him.

experience / how many years :  Time to show my rp age. I kicked it on forum groups. NOW the bane of my existence and why I will never join any rp group again lolol Around 2008/2009 ish? I have seen a lot of shit. Which is why my rules are the way they are cause I ain't got time to put up with bs. I used to roll Hugh Dancy back in the era of H.annibal for an original and had the lovely experience of being forced shipped on LMAOO

best experience : Other than being able to meet and connect with cool ghosties now? A little private server I used to have with some people (one being one of my best friends now) that was fun until it faded.

rp pet peeves : anon hate. people following ( especially first ) but NEVER interacting with anything. inconsistency. pretending to have interest in me+muse and then banning my fc. YEP It's happened and it's a major blacklist!

fluff, angst, or smut : All? I mean I don't smut on first interactions or shit. It's gotta be established ships cause not my priority. But it's all good. Can I say horror and thriller? lolol Honestly someone burned me badly with a shit ton of angst non stop so I'm not always here for that. Good plot drama is juicy tho.

plots or memes : Plot! Plot! Plot! I don't prefer dropping into the middle of a plot either. I wanna build it. Not it being "they're already interacting at this pivotal point" when that makes no sense to me. Memes are fun if people actually send them but I wanna plot, create and expand on universes. I also have a tendency to lose interest/push replies back if my rp partner NEVER talks or plots with me in ims. It shows a lack of interest to me personally.

long or short replies : LONG OR GO HOME! I try to write shorter stuff but I can't even. It's hard for me. I'm long winded. I'm wordy. The fact Landon talks/thinks too much doesn't help this lmaooo But no I do write a lot but no one is obligated to match my length. I just ask for more than a little paragrah or two if I write a shit ton cause it totally makes it difficult for me to reply and I take longer which makes the thread sit.

time to write : Pfff you assume I have a schedule. When I feel like my brain can cooperate? But a lot of times when I have gone on reply sprees it's between midnight and 3 am. The witching and devil's hours respectively on this FINE part horror blog! I'm a vampire what can I say? I can write anytime but my most productive hours have sprang up there.

are you like your muses : Heck to the no. I guess the only thing is Lan's love for pop culture/movies/horror but everything else? Nope. Nobody on the multi either. ahshf I would hope not cause there are some crazy criminals in that city lol

tagged by: the incomparable @mutatedangels ! <3 <3

tagging: @awalkoflife @clemencetaught @depictedmorada @dcymcres @fcllederage @interxstitial @itsalltoobeautiful @godccmplex @kndaoverit @queenxfthedxmned @lavishbylaw @laviexenrose @mxlevolence @magicmadnessx @packagecfgirlyevil @smolcuriouskitten @ixonmaiden @thewolfruns @technopathicredhead @txnnesseehoney @wintxrx @kit-just-kit @svchasimp @velvetnviolentviolets @waveofstars !! & everyone else I follow - the whole dash!

[runicsorceress]

✨ - what inspired your character?

[ooc: hoooooooo boy thats a complicated question! making rune started out as me wanting to make a kinda normal seeming person in the pokemon world. i wanted a character whos kinda a mess and doesnt rly care about social norms lol. ig because im a mess and get rly anxious abut stuff like that]

[runes kinda like me, a lot of my experiences with adhd go into her but anxiety? gone lol. she used to try and act normal, to fit in, to mask, but it just got way too exhausting for her. she hated it so much she locked herself away from the world for a few years until she realized her worth and stopped worrying about being normal lol (based a bit off of futaba sakura and a lot off of my time quarantine.)]

[also cus she locked herself in her room for a few years i wanted her to be a kinda gremliny gamer. thats where some of the stuffs bout energy drinks and not having a proper sleep schedule comes in. but it also kinda intersects with everything else ya know? not caring about social norms, so she doesnt care bout her sleep schedule! and shes a fan of ghosts and the night n such so thats another reason for her to stay up late!]

[honestly some of her interests are a lil.. basic ig? i dont go into much of the artist side or gamer side of her, mostly the ghost stuff. that is why she went out on a journey after all! and i kinda expanded her interests from just ghosts to her liking ghosts cus she likes spooky stuff, so shes into magic, ruins, and myths. those kinda things go hand in hand ya know? tho i made basically the core of her interests like magically dangerous stuffs lol. hexes, cursed artifacts, ghosts that can slowly eat away at your soul lol. thats also why she likes nihilego despite being not ghosty]

[oh uh the way she talks is kinda based off of me but also kinda just how i think she would? i based little bits of her off of marcille (dungeon meshi), susie (deltarune) and regretibly, dave (homestuck). its all just kinda the vibes of them ya know? shes got that kinda "i dont care" snarcy vibe from susie and dave but she kinda genuinely doesnt care (about some things.) with marcille its just kinda the tired vibes she gives off in later chapters :3]

[sry for the rly long post lol]

[throughoutuniverseswego]

"You are deemed worthy of seeing the wonders of the multiverse. Enjoy your journeys."

[Info under the keep reading]

.

~ This is a ask and RP blog for my original series I've created called "MultiVerse Theory"

~ Lore will be explained throughout posts, and also will be talked abt on my main blog @ahandfulofm0ss

~ This blog will include all characters from my series apart from Ghostie, who has his own separate blog: @ghostietheblueghost

~ This goes for all my RP blogs, but NO NSFW ASKS. Suggestive jokes are alr though

~ Creator goes by Emery/Moss and uses They/He pronouns

~ Ooc comments will be in square brackets signed with "- Em"

~ Because of how vast the multiverse is, any other rp/ask blog is free to interact

~ There will occasionally be mentions of violence so be warned. There will be a tw at the beginning of the posts containing mentions

Brief summary of the characters (in no particular order):

~ Admin/TC "The Deity Of Creation And Reality" - They/Them - Demi-bisexual

~ Cole "The Villain" - He/Him - AroAce

~ Sylie "The Abandoned" - She/They - Questioning

~ Mars "The Captain" - He/They/Xe - Queer

~ Louis "The District Attorney" - He/Him - Gay

~ Ira "The Motherly Goddess" - She/Her - Unlabeled

~ Kilou "The Maned Lioness Goddess" - She/Her - Lesbian

~ Rowan "The Host" - They/He - Gay

~ Emmy "The Fox" - They/He - Queer

~ Livel "The Bird" - He/Him - Pansexual

~ Connor "The Longing" - They/Them - Unlabeled

~ ??? "The Shifter" - She/Her and They/Them - Abrosexual

~ Atticus "The Timekeeper" - He/Him - Gay

~ Meri "The Enderwalker" - He/Him - Unlabeled

~ Emeri "The Powerless" - He/Him - Questioning

[carrusidae]

* ─ ooc tags.

✧ ─ ( ghostie talks )

✧ ─ ( ooc.asks )

✧ ─ ( queue )

✧ ─ ( mun.art )

✧ ─ ( dash.games )

✧ ─ ( music )

✧ ─ ( memes )

[ghostlyanon]

😶

The time Annie spent aimlessly wandering about space, before finding any place to be and people to connect with in the shape of friends or found-family; bearing the gripping feeling that there was no one within the vast universe that would be waiting for her or nowhere ( or no one ) to return to if she could. Already knowing her existence was insignificant compared to the rest of the universe; having to cope with thinking that aside from that, she herself was of no importance to no one.

[spiritmaiden23]

A LIST OF MUN INFO.

———  BASICS! ♡

NAME! ♡   Amber!! 

PRONOUNS! ♡   she/her but like I do not Care at the end of the day

ZODIAC SIGN! ♡   DUMBASS INDECISIVE BITCH aka Libra to a t bby! 

TAKEN OR SINGLE! ♡  As far as the general public thinks: I have a BF but a fake one in order to get creepers off my back but mayhaps i should like... platonic marry someone to stop with this. SO HEY IF YOU WANNA PLATONICALLY DATE SLIIIIIDE INTO MY DMS 

———  THREE  FACTS! ♡

1! ♡    Damn... I’m really not that interesting I gotta think. I think I lived in a haunted house back in Jersey. See, NJ is a crazy haunted state as a whole because of the history behind it, there’s a lot of spooky, fun places to explore like Gravity Hill where it’s said that ghost kids push your car up the hill if you put it in neutral, it works because my step sis did it with her friend. I digress. My aunt came to visit once and never came back because there was something she’d sense there and like... HWEOH I’D HEAR FOOTSTEPS IF I WERE DOWNSTAIRS ALONE AND ALSO, there was just this cold, tense atmosphere there. My ipod speaker would randomly turn on and it didn’t stop until I moved out of the house, I once saw an old man in a suit when I woke up at three in the morning, which happened all the freaking time, I’d wake up with scracth marks and bruises... and yeah. That’s a thing. Does not help that the place we lived at used to be a crematorium, that’s the legend at least.

2! ♡    I am 100% a morning person I always wake up at eight o clock seven being the earliest for me. If I sleep in I tend to get nightmares and junk so HJDSKJBAJDB and like, it’s impossible for me to sleep in once I’m up bc I’m the type that takes forever to sleep which is why I am a nightowl. Yes, I am both we Exist and it’s hell. 

3! ♡   Hrm, I think the reason why Drama doesn’t faze me too much half the time is because my family is full of crazy drama. Let me break it down for you. So in Dominican Republic we are believe in the supernatural and the like, my aunt is able to tell the future if you drink a cup of tea she makes, one sip though and she reads the liquids as well. SO, a few years back, my uncle has been having bad luck. Turns out, he’s been cursed by a witch and at first, he thought it was his mother. It wasn’t until this year he found out it was his wife that did it. SO LIKE, THAT’S WHAT I HAVE TO DEAL WITH OFFLINE AMONG OTHER CRAZY THINGS. Whether you believe in this or not, is up to you. This is the internet after all. But I am very much what you see is what you get so... ye! 

———  EXPERIENCE! ♡

PLATFORMS USED! ♡  Tungle and discord. I’m going to try out forum rp with a friend and do a koala grip on her as we cry and ship our muses together, shout out to Tarra I love you you crazy meme! 

———  MUSE  PREFERENCE! ♡

GENDER! ♡  It really doesn’t matter! If I vibe with the character, I tend to blackout as they take over my body and write for them. IT WORKS APPARENTLY SINCE PPL TEND TO LIKE MY MUSES WHICH I AM LIKE, SHOCKED AND GRATEFUL FOR 

LEAST FAVOURITE FACE(S)! ♡  I pretend to not see it. That’s all I’m saying! 

MULTI OR SINGLE! ♡  SINGLE I DID MULTI ONCE AND DIED, mad respect for mumu blogs you guys are amazing and keep doing what you do! 

———  FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! ♡

FLUFF:   FLUFF MAKES ME MELT!! NGL LIKE FOR REAL I DIE EVERY TIME, though this might come as a shock to some since most people tend to expect fluff from me since apparently, I am Good at that which I don’t believe but it is what it is. I do love it but I hate it bc I am an emotional bitch.

ANGST:  H-hurt and comfort :plead emoji: senseless angst just for the point of drama and partners going “NO I HAVE MORE SADNESS THAN YOU” “NO I DO” has no meaning to me, but if there’s character dev in it I am down for that! 

SMUT:  I am g-rated for lyfe.... ON TUNGLE. Subscribe to my only fans for that spicy content though. In all seriousness, I do not mind writing it with close friends, depending on the muses of course because I will say “no” for some of them, and laughing how terrible my writing is with that! That said, I don’t like writing it on tumblr where EVERYONE can see. And on a site full of kids??? No Thanks!! 

PLOT / MEMES! ♡  Sure, sure, sure! I’m not always around and quite frankly am shit as talking things out in the tumblr DMs because I’m not here as often and also tend to forget to respond to things! But memes are also fun to do too, I am pretty open to anything really! 

[minifusionbaby]

Cinnamon and Steven have one thing to say to you!!

and it's to have a good pride month this month!

Now just to be clear to those who may get confused, Cinnamon is wearing a Nonbinary lesbian pride flag. In no way do I support maps.

On a lighter note, I hope you all enjoy this post! Thank you for viewing this!

~Mod Ghostie

[finalsorrow]

@spooklyboos: THE VAMPIRE KILLER IS SARA?!

Y... YES

[lachalaine]

👻

[firsnotfurs]

Ooc ;; Oof customer service autumn is out of service & now to be a delinquent for my two days off. not sure how active imma be tonight in particular but

Delvin straight up haunting the ratways like some obnoxious poltergeist after dying tho - thank u for coming to my ted talk