#💌 𝘪𝘯𝘣𝘰𝘹: 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

[ghostaholics]

I am LIVING for your jealous/possessive enemies with benefits ghost. He sees reader being a little too friendly with another man and goes FERAL. Nobody knows why. Not even him.

❝ 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐋. ❞ Fucks your throat raw, likes seeing your lips stretched around his cock, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth and trickling down your chin as you struggle to take all of him in, just a little messy; the way you allow your muscles to go slightly lax to deep-throat him, but it’s still so goddamn tight. And you spoil him with your mouth, gently sucking at the head and tonguing the entirety of him, even better when you add your palm too, can’t quite wrap your fingers around his cock but it’s hot and slippery and all that matters is you’re trying your best. His hand is threaded through your hair, close to the scalp, close to the roots and flexing hard when you swallow him to the hilt – loves that this lets him control your movements. From the expression on your face, this fucked-out, glazed-over look, he can tell that you’re enjoying it more than he is; gets his point proven when you snake your fingers down between your legs to play with your clit because you just can’t help yourself. (❝ What would all of ‘em think if they saw you on your knees for me, huh, sweetheart? ❞) And there’s something really satisfying to him hearing how utterly wrecked your voice is the next day when you sound hoarse trying to talk to other people.

❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇. ❞ He has you facing the mirror, sitting reverse on his lap with your legs wrenched apart – forces you to pay attention to how his cock’s got you split open like this, the easiest way for him to work himself inside your cunt. He’s got one hand on your hip, guiding you up and down just how you need him at a rough and steady rate. His other hand spans over your jaw, your throat; directing you to look at your reflection and how it’s him that’s ruining you – your wet and sticky slickness soaking his cock. He wants you to see what he sees: you, taking him so well, everything that he offers. (❝ No. Eyes open. Gotta remind you who’s the only one that can turn you into such a fucking mess like this, yeah? ❞)

❝ 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓. ❞ He mutters it under his breath, has a hand over your mouth to stifle your noises – Jesus Christ, you’re so goddamn loud; in the blackness of the supply closet where he’s got you, back against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist (❝ Just a quick fuck, c’mon. I know you’re aching for it. ❞) – only needs five minutes to get you off. And when you’re groaning too fucking much while he pounds into your cunt, Ghost tells himself that he doesn’t want to be caught dead with you like this. You don’t either, of course, considering the mutual feelings of animosity shared between the two of you. So it’s a low growl, a warning from him: ❝ If you don’t shut up, they’re gonna hear us— ❞ But the idea only rips another long moan from your throat. And when he sees how much you might actually want that, for somebody to walk by and figure out that you’re getting stuffed full of his cock, it makes him fuck you even harder just to test how good you can keep quiet for him.

𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔!𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒏 || 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

banner credit by cafekitsune

[ghostaholics]

Ghost and jealousy? Like u hate me tf r u jealous about bitch and he’s like the silent jealous mf type

𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔-𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉-𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒕𝒔 (18+) || 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔-𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉-𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒕𝒔

You’re a catch, too – liked by everybody, getting along with others easily. Charming; that's something Simon can't fucking comprehend. Because you get offers from people who're willing to take their shot with you (flowers, love notes, prospective dates), and every time you bring a new person's name up, he just has a creative insult to off-handedly sling: oh, that wanker?

And Simon—god, Simon is so fed up. Don't they know you’re a man-eater? He doesn't see it, doesn't get it at all. But he doesn't intervene, tells himself not to get involved because that would mean admitting that he's holding a torch for you, which is absolutely not the case. So he just seethes, quietly; he's the picture of stoicism and indifference. Of course he is. Not even remotely affected.

But then, a bold fucking rookie. Private what's-his-name. Not even important enough to register on Simon's radar so it catches him off-guard when he finds out that you have a date – showing up to Simon's room after he messages you for a fast fuck, in a dress and all done up in a way that's clearly not for him. And you impatiently tell him that you have to leave in 20 minutes.

He doesn't make this quick. In fact, it's the slowest that he fucks you, ravages you until you’re late. Hickeys all over your chest that can't be covered by the cut of your dress, makeup and hair ruined. There's a mess between your thighs, and he's bloody smug because he knows that while you’re on your date, the only thing on your mind is going to be him and how sore he made your cunt.

Simon doesn't say it. He doesn't have to. Everything he did to you already says enough: mine. And he just has a sardonic smile on his face and bids you farewell with a 'Have fun.'

[ghostaholics]

Ok but like the enemies with benefits and hate love trope REALLY suits ghost like cmon it’s like him ya know and the part where he would actually WILL push them out of the bed is 100% true 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭and that one hc where it says that he would rather die than make the first move is so valid .

𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔-𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉-𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒕𝒔 (18+) || 𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒏

literally they’re in his room and after they’re done he’s like, helping her find her clothes not to be nice but because he’s trying to get her out the door as fast as possible; no cuddling, no aftercare just a ‘thanks for the shag, now fuck off’ because he wants to take a nap – simon rolls over onto his stomach, hands tucked underneath his pillow as though he’s already sleeping because she can just see herself out

but now she’s whisper-yelling at him that she can’t find her panties even after searching high and low for them, is basically shaking him awake and doesn’t give a shite about his goddamn beauty rest

and he cracks an eye at her, being super unhelpful like – ‘i don’t see the problem? just go without them then, you’re taking too damn bloody long’ so she leaves with a scowl and has to make this hellish walk back to her own quarters with his cum starting to drip down her leg (even gets stopped on her way by price who mentions something about a 0800 debrief the next morning, which is an awful 10-minute-long conversation) meanwhile, simon's in his room chuckling because he hid them under his pillow (being the bastard he is) and he's already thinking that she’s going to need another attitude adjustment sooner than later

[ghostaholics]

I’m laughing so hard with the enemies with benefits trope, it’s the only thing keeping me sane right now.What if she gets badly hurt during a mission, and ends up unconscious for days, and Ghost stays by her side waiting for her to wake up and when she does, instead of a heartwarming conversation they instantly start to insult each other

The amount of time it took for them to stabilize her had been... long.

Too long.

So long, in fact that they'd had to resuscitate her twice during transport and somewhere in between their (inadequate, by his standards) attempts at life-saving measures and him taking over compressions (he'd bullied his way onto the carrier, of course, much to the displeasure of the rest of the medical flight personnel and was the only one willing to continue even after they'd seriously considered calling the time of death), there was a brief moment where he'd really thought she wasn't going to make it. And for exactly 34 minutes, he'd kept thinking to himself what a goddamn shame it'd be to lose her (not for himself, but for the 1-4-1, the good of the team, obviously). Except then they'd found her pulse again, faint and barely hanging on just under skin, albeit still there – thank-fucking-Jesus – and Simon had finally allowed himself to let out a sigh of breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding the entire time.

It's been about 72 hours since she was initially transferred to the trauma center by helo (or 71 hours and 53 minutes if he wants to get really technical, not that he’s keeping track). This surly, hulking beast of a man managed to fold himself into that tiny hospital chair – has a damn crick in his neck now, stiffness in his muscles from that pathetic excuse of a recliner. And he's had to camp out as a sniper for lengthy intervals before, slept on the ground or up against a fucking tree depending on the situation without complaint, so this should be any different, but he's had to shift positions frequently just to take the edge off because it's bothering him that much; Christ, the things he does for her.

And after waiting all this damn time, he's finally rewarded with some evidence of actual consciousness – the too-thin, threadbare hospital sheets stirring with movement out of the corner of his eye. Simon rises from his seat, completely neglecting his lunch (hadn't even really been able to eat properly until recently, because his appetite was pretty much shite after the whole cardiac arrest thing) and strides over to check on whether or not she's waking up.

She blinks, groggily, eyes adjusting to her surroundings and trying to place where exactly she is before a shadow passes over her line of vision and blocks the annoying fluorescent lights. It’s – oh.

Simon's face comes into view, peering down at her with an expression that she doesn’t quite recognize. This one’s new; she doesn’t have a name for it, but if she were to hazard a guess, it seems an awful lot like concern – or at least his version of whatever that may be. She watches him quietly. Her gaze isn’t as disoriented anymore and she tracks his hand, the way it comes up to cup her jaw, warm palm sliding over her skin in an invitation to lean into his touch.

“Really glad you woke up,” he murmurs, low but still loud enough to be heard over the rhythmic beeping of the bedside monitor. And Simon, being Simon, doesn't forget to add, “There's so many reports I've been waiting for you to sign off on.”

She closes her eyes with a small smile gracing her lips. Her voice is rough from disuse, but the sarcasm behind it is a familiar sound. “Wish I'd been out for longer. Was nice not having you nag my ear off – best damn sleep I've gotten in ages, y'know.”

[ghostaholics]

YESSSSSS to sugardaddy!Price!!!! Honestly, no one can tell me he isn't sugar daddy material.

(The first time they have sex, months after keeping their hands to themselves and it’s been a slow burn since they’ve met)

His voice is low in your ear; all heat, a rough timbre that sends another gush of arousal dripping down your legs and does nothing but make the throbbing ache between your thighs grow worse. He doesn’t touch you, though – not where you need the relief until you do just one little thing for him: ❝ This cunt’s fucking expensive, love. Tell me it’s mine. ❞

𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒂𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒚!𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆 || 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒂𝒓 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

[ghostaholics]

Ok I couldn’t stop laughing my ass off thinking about the reader getting a little sick one day and the medic lady throws the “maybe ur pregnant” joke at the reader who is like HELL FUCKING NAH I ain’t fucking u again to ghost I’m traumatised 😂🤣

𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑬𝑾𝑩 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂 (18+) || 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔-𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉-𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒕𝒔 || 𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒏

please this is so funny you know she’s just absolutely horrified by that suggestion and she’s just roaming through the halls, feet shuffling against the floor like the audacity of that medic – this dead look on her face; she was stupid to not consider the risk of pregnancy

and after days of avoiding him, he finally drags her back to his room, he’s hovering over her on the bed and can’t figure out why the fuck she’s acting like this (what’d he miss?) – practically has to pry it out of her tooth and nail

and when she finally spills what happened with the medic, he immediately jumps the hell off of her and is equally disgusted, a visible shudder coursing through his body – literally spares a single glance at her before pacing the room:

❝ No more sex. ❞

❝ No more, ❞ she parrots, tamping down a wave of revulsion that’s more from the idea of being pregnant with his kid than the actual illness itself that’d already passed.

❝ Unless— ❞

❝ No sex, ❞ she repeats emphatically.

❝ There are other holes, y'know— ❞

She hurls a pillow at his fucking head but he ducks in the nick of time.

❝ Oi, it was just a suggestion. Don’t be such a priss. ❞

[ghostaholics]

I bet she’ll wince when she tries to sit down in a meeting and soap will make it worse by asking her what’s wrong

The entire meeting is a shitshow.

Price is thoroughly unamused by the fact that 2/5ths of the task force are not on time, already plans on assigning them the most grueling or boring part of the mission as punishment

Ghost shows up last to the conference room, which is odd considering that he's punctual; he's wearing a fabric balaclava and dark shades because his eyes are still photosensitive and have trouble adjusting to the light from the hangover (very much channeling 2009 COD energy)

Soap seeing her uncomfortably shifting in her seat every so often, he, none to the wiser, asks her, "Ye alright, hen?"

And because she's sipping on a glass of water (alcohol is very dehydrating, her mouth's dry) and nearly chokes on her drink

Gaz is the one who puts two and two together, eyes flickering back and forth between her and Ghost until the lightbulb over his head goes off. And he makes this strangled noise in his throat that catches the attention of everyone in the room, so Ghost promptly drags him outside for a light threat about what will happen to his body if he tells anybody chat

[ghostaholics]

I had a dream about your enemies with benefits ghost x reader where the reader had a cryptic pregnancy. She kinda just doubled over in pain randomly and BOOM. Baby.

HE'S A LETHAL PERFECTIONIST TO THE CORE: rigid expectations impressed upon everyone; it's what makes him a first-rate soldier – grit factor and an appetite for excellence in everything he does.

(The thing is, Ghost doesn't make mistakes.

Of course, there's a first time for everything.)

It's chaos walking in Bangladesh, guerrilla warfare against an AQ cell weaseled away in Dhaka because the shiteheads have business with the organized crime bosses here. It's a city jam-packed with civilians, innocent lives. No open-fire allowed. A place like this means guerrilla warfare. Hit-and-run tactics. God knows he's not trying to start an international incident by blowing up half the bloody capital.

Cloak-and-dagger: they're picked off one-by-one. It takes a full day. A mess to be cleaned up, and he does it exceptionally well.

Ghost doesn't get any reports outside of the mission until he relays his total kill count.

"Good work," Laswell radios in. "We need you on the first flight to Oslo."

He lets out a slow exhale while jumping into the driver's seat of the vehicle he commandeered a couple blocks over. Time to make his way to the airport, then. They need his back-up. He knows what that means. But he's not going to think about the fact that the rest of the One-Four-One are there for a completely different ops and whether things have gone south if they're calling him in. He was supposed to be their fallback plan. "Everything solid?"

"It's Mav."

His grip around the steering wheel tightens. If he starts speeding through the streets, then he doesn't notice, too tuned in to the conversation at hand. "Fill me in."

"Landed herself in the hospital."

Again? Christ. It's the second visit in six months. He was there for the first one. Damn near had to stop the bloody doctors from calling out her time of death. Fuckin' tossers.

"What's the damage?"

"Well—"

"Alive?"

"Yes," she says quickly.

"Then quit beating around the bush. The hell's wrong with her?"

"All in one piece. Just get here when you can."

Right, so no helpful answers from the Station Chief. And Ghost tries to contact the others, but gets the same fucking silence. Not Price, not Gaz, not even Soap who always answers just to take every opportunity over the comms to blather about anything and everything in real time. He's not sure why he's being kept in the dark like this, but it's definitely putting him on edge.

The only other message he receives from Laswell: Oslo University Hospital. He'd combed the website for information in between stoplights. It'll do, he supposes. Their services don't seem subpar, which at any rate sounds far better than fucking Moscow; he still gets sick thinking about it.

So he checks in, gets his visitor badge. It's a whole ordeal that takes a lot longer than he likes. They tell him what floor, what room. That's the Gyneacology and Obstetrics Wing. He triple-checks, making sure nothing gets lots in translation; doesn't sound right to him, but he'll tear up the place later if they gave him the wrong directions. He memorized the hospital layout already; it'll take him approximately three minutes utilizing the right staircase, or seven minutes if he wants to take his sweet-fucking-time with the elevators.

"Our gift shop is around the corner," they tell him in a thick Norwegian accent before he makes his exit.

Odd.

She doesn't like flowers or cards or sentimental things anyways. Calls them impractical. Would rather hoard his jackets or other belongings of his that she finds useful, so the gift shop would be a waste.

When Ghost finally gets to where he needs to be, 2 minutes and 45 seconds later (skipped every other step just to shave off time), he finds everyone sans Mav waiting outside the room. It's not a happy reunion, despite Soap's grin. Everyone's intact, nobody's dead or anything that would excuse their silence during his trip from Bangladesh. Ghost is extremely unimpressed with their lack of communication and promises that he'll deal with their sorry arses later before shoving his way through the door.

—only to be met with the sight of her sitting up in bed, a tiny newborn bundled in her arms.

... whose fucking baby is that?

And when his eyes snap up to hers, she's glaring at him with a positively seething look that could kill.

[ghostaholics]

Lmao imagine it on base after a mission as you watch them both leave the mess hall together (clearly in a hurry) and then return a short while later all glazed eyed and flustered but noticeably more relaxed as they part ways to opposite sides of the room;

“Wait, don’t they dislike eachother?”

“Yup”

early on in their relationship, everybody clears the room when they feel the tension between her and ghost (especially after a particularly brutal mission) because nobody wants to get caught in the crossfire of their argument again (the two hours after operation red zone was miserable enough)

and then once people start to catch on, probably seeing them eye-fucking from across the room they're like, 'oh no, no.' and start to scurry away from their vicinity as fast as possible, because this is monumentally worse than them yelling at each other

and after they emerge from the conference room, soap is so bold, he gives ghost a light punch to the arm like, 'hey l.t., didnae forget to wipe down the table, aye?' which earns him dish duty for a whole month

[ghostaholics]

And soap is sitting looking at them he got that feeling in his gut these two are sus .

She gets a call from him when Simon’s buried inside her all the way to the hilt; instead of ignoring it, he makes her answer and watches her (pathetically) attempt to have a normal conversation with Johnny and not do anything that’ll give her away (moaning, breath catching in her throat, sobbing). Simon spends the whole time trying to break her.

The best and worst 30 minutes of her life.

[ghostaholics]

ok same anon from last time!! but since price is coming around so often her co-workers start to tease her about her new ‘friend’ XD

ok please but from what i've found, writing people's names on cups is more of starbucks thing, and in LRC (abbreviation for the shop in the fic; stands for Labyrinth Roasters & Co. for anybody that cares), they use ticket orders but when price starts coming around, the whole staff is on it to get them together

and the girl working point of sale on register goes out of her way to scrawl 'john' in her loopy cursive with hearts all over it and puts reader's number on the side, but reader is on bar so before she even makes the drink she throws it away and gives a flat look to her coworker lmao

and then her manager is like, hey have you taken your break? to which reader is all i literally took one not even twenty minutes ago?? but price just walked in and they want her to sit down with him in that little corner where he usually settles for the morning

𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒂𝒓 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

[ghostaholics]

Ghost seeing the reader on the verge of crying after his injury he would be like uhh r u crying the reader is like : no I got something in my eyes fuck you die .and u know that secret ugly crying lmao y’all r making this funny as hell :”)seriously bro imagine her accidentally just burst on tears like a baby in front of him and be like I’m not crying it’s my allergies.

she's trying to stitch him up (the medic clearly can't be trusted after such a daft fucking comment) and is doing so through the blurred haze of her tears; she's blinking them away, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand while she works on his injury

and he's just all softly like, 'please don't cry... you're fucking up my stitches and it hurts'

[ghostaholics]

Ok let’s get into some angst flufflish steamy shit like ghost is ALWAYS cutting the reader of any mission he’s not in and the reader literally storms inside his office raging she’s probably in her pj and asking him why tf r u doing that and of course ghost won’t admit it and it becomes physical (I mean physical fighting ) and shit but guess what….she can’t sleep then she goes to ghosts room at night to continue fighting like it’s literally 2 am bitch😭I need help I’m a sucker for dickhead-ghost

They wouldn’t necessarily get into a physical altercation unless it was in a controlled setting like sparring against each other (as the sex is the physical thing between them that acts as an outlet for their emotions when they don’t want to talk), but I do enjoy the idea of everything else mentioned; probably happens later on in their relationship.

I think she starts to notice after a certain point – sure, maybe Price didn’t include her on some missions, no big deal; a loss, in her opinion, but there’ll be others. More opportunities for her to go on an ops with him means being halfway across the world from Ghost (thank god and distance makes the heart grow fonder anyways). Until she does realize that the only ones she’s being going on have specifically been where Ghost is around – puts two and two together, essentially.

The thought is eating away at her – time at 2300, she needs answers immediately, and books it over to his room, except… he’s not there. So now she’s angrily blazing a warpath to the only other place he might be at this hour. Ghost is in his office working on some final reports and when she pounds her fist on the foot – she’s trying to be this infuriated, irate thing but he can’t take her seriously when she’s wearing her pajamas and a pair of fuzzy slippers (is this the same person who he saw slit a man’s throat yesterday), and he just offers her a tired, “Yeah, you need something?”

And she’s about to get into it, calls him out on the whole mission stuff until he firmly puts a stop to her tirade and says, “I’m backlogged on stuff that needs to be submitted tonight. If you want to have this discussion, it’ll wait ‘til after I’m done. Come back later.”

Which she of course, takes as a challenge and waltzes right past him, takes up a stack of reports in her arms and angrily gets to work on them while sending daggers his way every so often – literally helping him speed up the process, she’s just that petty. But there’s too much to get through and by the time they’re done, the fight’s kind of left her, she’s drained physically and emotionally and she’s not sure she can realistically give him the verbal arse-kicking he deserves.

However, she does need some peace of mind before she leaves, so she pleads – now equally tired as him – to tell her why he’s been doing this to her.

And Simon pauses, gives it a brief moment of thought and knows that she’s going to probably hate him for his answer but follows through anyways: “Because I don’t trust anybody else to look after you better than I can.”

[ghostaholics]

bbbbbbut what if ghost actually started to feel something 🥺 sorry i’m a sucker for a enemies to lovers + i know it’s not that trope but—

i think when he first admits to himself that he does, it's a horrible realization and he has an existential crisis over it for three weeks, at minimum

an 'ew, i care for you?'

i'm sure at one point he says 'don't get yourself killed on the field' because it would be too much paperwork to deal with but then it gradually morphs into an 'oh wait i think i'd miss your company if you were blown to bits so maybe stay safe i guess'

[ghostaholics]

Hear me out ghost and the reader are in a safe house separated from their team they have a moment of silence and the reader tells ghost that she trusts him blindly even tho their relationship is complicated I think ghost will be so touched by these words

this is basically the plot of lifeline where she takes a near-fatal bullet for him; now spilling out a death-bed confession in an attempt to fix things as she thinks she’s about to die and wants to clear the air between the two of them – can’t leave Simon like this without telling him that for all the shite they put each other through, that at the end of the day, he always seems to look out for her no matter how much she gets on his nerves, which is why it was such an easy decision for her to sacrifice herself for him; trust and love are two independent things in their relationship, and they develop the first one much sooner than the second one

they’re dancing around the fact that they care for each other

I’m sure at some point in the safe house while they’re he’s waiting for MEDEVAC he’s thinking—

Because for all of your anger and the fuckin’ complaining that you do, I've learned that you’ll always follow me into a battle even when the odds are against us. I’ve seen it. I know that you’re stupid enough to stay by my side in a losing fight… so answer this: doesn’t that make you just as bad as me?

(this scene also spurs him into desperately trying to save her after she’s already bled out too much of her blood volume on the helo because the situation between them is a ‘I’m the only one that’s allowed to kill you’ type)

[ghostaholics]

Let’s talk about enemy Simon and reader when she’s sending risky photos during any meetings and he punish her

Ok you say this but enemies-to-benefits Simon lets the first few sexts slide and then when he gets the picture (don’t play games you can’t win – his mask is covering his smile, but his eyes are crinkled at the corners), he waits for a beat before just sliding his phone over to Price (the screen is face-down but open to the messages), so he can watch her face plummet during the meeting; that’s punishment enough.