pairings - ghost x fem!babygirl reader
word count - 1.8k
warnings - smut smut smut and barely a plot. unprotected piv, oral sex slightly, fingering, name calling, spanking, daddy kink, age gap probably. babygirl is in her early twenties and ghost is ghost.
a/n - who proof reads so don’t message me about my mistakes or if something doesn’t make sense cause i’ll look at it later. maybe 😅 this will probably have more parts but for now this is your introduction to babygirl and her big bad ghosty 🥰
“You wanna act like that in front of them again?”
Ghost had your back pinned against the wall, your body pressed tightly to his you swore his heart was beating a million stars. The others were seated at a table with a few empty rounds and all cups half full. Nobody at the table even noticed you and Ghost had left or that your glasses were still overflowing the top with foam leaving both the glass and table underneath sticky.
“Didn’t like the show Lieutenant?” you gave him that stupid smile he wanted to fuck off your face.
Maybe it was the way you were grinding in Price’s lap that finally got you the attention you wanted. It only took him 2 years. Or how you whispered in Soap’s ear that you weren’t wearing any panties under that dress and he repeated it out loud being the final straw to break the camel’s back. Ghost never looked more angry to be left out of your pretty little parade around everyone’s dick but his.
“Sure, you made everyone load their pants just by being a slut at the table but it’s gonna take a lot more than that for me Sweetheart.”
Ghost grabbed your cunt through the opening of your dress and carried you into the bathroom, not even bothering to lock the door behind him. Anyone coming close to that hallway would be able to hear his cock splitting you in half and know what they’d be walking into and he’d have to bite their head off.
Jealousy wasn’t something he ever thought was apart of him like that. Especially with a young pretty girl like you, but you drove him mad. Couldn’t get you out of his head and he tried, knowing it was getting bad when it started to affect his work, not being able to concentrate every time you opened your mouth.
Price started to notice something off, but only making it worse for giving in to you himself as Simon could only sit and watch you tie tongues with the captain one night.
“I think I need another.”
Ghost watched as Price pointed to his cheek from across the table, hinting for you to give him a small kiss. It only made the Lieutenants blood boil that all he could do was sit and watch the girl he’s been obsessing over, go and kiss someone else. Worse was looking back over to find you seated in Price’s lap occupied by his tongue and muffled groans, leaving before he could witness you sit back in your own seat and look for him.
Innocent girl like you, or so he thought. Always pushing his buttons and making him mad and you weren’t even his. That was the problem. Every guy he knew seemed to want you. Making it obvious and watching you eat it all up while sitting in the laps of men he now despised because they had their hands all over you. His. He knew what they were thinking and it made him wanna snap necks even more.
“Don’t like seeing Price’s cock stand when he looks at me? You know what he likes being called? Daddy.”
There it was.
Ghost pushed you hard against the bathroom sink, bending you down while your short dress slid up exposing your dripping cunt. Looks like you weren’t wearing any panties just like Soap announced, not being able to stop staring at your already puffy pussy.
God, you also have a mouth on you that makes him wanna sink his cock into it.
“Don’t fucking call him that.”
“Don’t call him what? Daddy? But he likes it.”
You were just pressing every button. He didn’t wanna know how you knew that about the captain. Little did Simon know, you were joking.
A surprise sting to your left ass cheek had your mouth open in shock. Another. And another. By now with how hard his hand made contact with your skin it would be a miracle if his hand print wasn’t permanently fried into your skin.
His ears perked up. You were calling him that.
Ghost quickly focused back to your glistening cunt, taking another moment to stare. He was hoping every drop of you was because of him and not the others. The grip on your hips tightened, playing scenarios in his head about them being the ones making you soaked like this and it only made him wanna fuck you harder, make you forget about them.
You noticed the moment he had, no other movement than his chest rising and falling heavily. His eyes almost looked like they were glowing, wiggling your hips eagerly to get his attention and he growled, slapping that painful spot again harder before spreading your pussy lips with his fingers. Fuck.
Opening you up for his cock, sliding his index in and out a few times before slipping in his middle to hear you moan while stretching you with two digits.
Your voice was soft and needy. He wasn’t going fast enough, didn’t know you wanted him to break you in half so quickly.
Ghost questioned, not hesitating in pushing his ring finger inside your wet hole before noticing the little noises he was bringing out of you. He was bringing you pleasure, not anyone else and it only made his pants tighter, fucking his fingers and curling them inside you. His calloused thumb easily found your swollen clit and rubbed circles, eyes lighting up at the way you would react.
“Yes, yes, oh fuck don’t stop.”
His fingers started to soak, listening to how wet your pussy was. He wanted to take his time with you, pry you open like the last present on Christmas morning, but he was already past that and your sounds weren’t helping.
He kept you still against the bathroom sink while unzipping his pants and undoing his belt. Your head snapped back to look behind you, searching for it. You would never be able to count on your fingers how many times you’ve wondered what it looked like, smirking as he watched you now try and stare.
His hand brought it from the confinement of his pants, long and rock hard. It hung off his body, swaying with each movement closer to your needy pussy. Thick, wider than a pop can and longer than your entire leg. You didn’t know how he walked with that trunk between his legs, but you never heard a complaint.
Your cunt squeezed around his fingers and his eyes blew up, pulling them out after your pussy molded to them. He was about to nudge at your entrance after stroking his cock with his wet fingers, coating the head but you squealed. Holy fuck it was massive. Bigger than most mens forearms and he was about to stuff it inside your tight cunt because he couldn’t hold back any longer.
Rubbing the tip of his swollen head against your soaked cunt he coats his cock with more of your arousal and slowly dips in. The helpless whimpers leaving your fuckable mouth had him trying not to buck forward all at once and just sink right in to watch you squirm, whither away and make pretty noises for him.
You panted under him. His head pushed past your entrance and stopped, leaving you to focus on the stinging pain he left your hole.
He snapped back into reality that this was real. His hips go forward as yours go back both impatiently, feeling all of him at once while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Fuck you looked so cock dumb in the mirror before him and he started to pound viciously.
Ghost grunts, feeling your walls slowly stretch around his heavy cock. He’s never felt anyone this tight before, not even thinking if you needed more time. It was long enough for you to get used to his size, right? You were like a dream that he never wanted to end and he was about to show you just how rough he could get. Your noises and movements made him only go faster, fuck you harder.
You made noises he’s never heard of, only driving him deeper. Ghost had his hands on your hips just about the entire time until you felt them trail up your side, one grabbing your breast through your summer dress, pulling the fabric down to expose your hard nipple to play and squeeze.
Simon was so lost in just looking at your swollen pussy that a condom didn’t even cross his mind, wondering what kind of game we would be playing if you weren’t on a contraceptive and blowing his entire load inside you.
Your hands squeezed the bathroom sink so hard you thought it would have broken from the wall by now. Not to mention the giant in a balaclava who you’ve never actually seen before pound into you relentlessly. You wondered if anyone was outside the door listening to you scream the word “Daddy!” Over and over again while your cunt got impossibly tighter around his cock.
“Fuck baby, never felt a pussy this tight. Being such a fucking good girl for Daddy.”
You almost came from his low growl in your ear, his hand pushing your jaw to look towards him in the mirror. Only looking into his eyes, the only thing you could see.
A wail left your lips, crying at the growing friction between your legs and the desperate need to let the pleasure build and completely come crashing down. Ghost took notice to the slack in your body, hand firmly placing around your throat and squeezing.
“Come all over Daddy’s dick, baby.”
He snarled in your ear while his pace quickened, holding you down while the other plays and toys with your clit in circular motions. Ghost feels you tighten, whimpering for release and doesn’t stop when you death grip his cock.
“Daddy, Daddy I’m coming!”
He doesn’t let up, fucking faster and harder into your pussy while you cry for him to slow down, releasing your hands from the counter to dig into his arms. His thrusts started to get sloppy, bucking every few times until he leaves your cunt gaping, pulsing around nothing, pushing you hard to the bathroom floor on your knees.
Ghost had a perfect angle to your face, stroking his cock against your already open mouth until thick ropes of hot cum painted your delicate face. You’ve never heard him moan and grunt like that before, making your pussy flutter for him all over again.
He pushed the tip of his cock into your mouth, watching your eyes meet his while his head leaned back, your lips closing in to suck any extra cum from his hole, swirling your tongue around it a few times, hand coming to wrap around the base of his cock before he slaps your hand away.
Simon grinned, pulling you off your swelling knees. He already had the door open, cold look in his eye that he wasn’t going to let you wash your face.
a/n - OKAY LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK. SHOULD I WRITE MORE OF THEM. DO WE LIKE IT. It’s an introduction so there will be lots lots more.
Ok this is very random but how do you think Ghost would deal w an s/o who is still a virgin at a very big girl age 🥴 maybe they’d be seeing each other for a while, and when things heat up and she confesses, how would he deal? Would he be honored and accept being her first or would he reject her altogether bc she is inexperienced?
(Because I’m in my 20s and safe to say on top of everything else in my life except this, I haven’t come across anyone with whom I’d like to be intimate with yet and though I try not to let it get to me, some part of me sometimes feels like a freak or like something is wrong with me)
I hope I did not cross any boundaries or make you uncomfortable by sharing this, if I did I apologize and please feel free to delete this ❤️🕊️
Ghost x FVirgin!Reader
Word count: 2,9 k
Tags/warnigs: Mild smut, light angst, fluff, comfort, praise & size kink
Summary: Reader tells Ghost they’re a virgin while things are about to go down.
A/N: Oh anon!! No boundaries crossed here at all! Your request (or at least I took it as such and got inspired to write a brief oneshot about it) was very sweet.
This of course is my HC but Simon would only and only take pride in being your first. He would get a huge ego boost from this and feel absolutely privileged to hear he's worthy of such trust.
I think he would want to imprint himself in your head as the best man and the best sex partner you will ever have – he would do his all to eradicate even the very thought of wanting to try others after him. Again, an ego thing, but also a desperate wish to please his partner and make them feel safe. This man screams service top to me.
I think Simon has a wild side – not mean, just wild, as in he might be into rough sex and certain types of kinky stuff every now and then but only if his partner is willing. He would be very gentle and considerate (passionate as hell though), knowing you're inexperienced, he would make you feel as safe as possible and wait until you were ready and willing to explore things further.
Also, I can't help but be moved by what you told me in this message. I understand where you're coming from with these "is there something wrong with me" thoughts, because gosh, I feel you! And speaking from experience… it's 110 % worth it to wait for the right person to come along! Sex can be awesome, mind-blowing, one of the best things – with the right partner. Not worth it with just whomever, imho. Stay safe and trust yourself! And I hope you like this short drabble I made for Ghost x Virgin!Reader ❤️❤️❤️ much love 😘
Simon Riley was a one of a kind man.
He put every guy on every dating app to shame, and not just with his size. He was manly, in a word, even if you never knew you wanted such an overly masculine man. At least, not until you met him.
Simon was not only sturdy and mature – he was armed with calm rage and dark humor. Just one look in his eyes told you he was not the life of the party. Actually, he was Death himself: one of those four horsemen that heralded the Apocalypse.
Perhaps unintelligibly, the same man was also extremely considerate. A true gentleman if there ever was one. He always placed you and your needs first. But underneath the calm, cynical surface you sensed fierce intensity: fire and smoke, something that screamed Danger, high voltage.
And you could not keep away. Quite the opposite, really. The combination of a wildfire and a tornado roaring upon this solid bedrock of a man was simply alluring.
Things had gone a little too far without you meaning them to. You were not a woman of one night stands, actually, you had never had a stand. But Simon changed that, too. Because now you were thinking about sleeping with him.
After years and years of waiting for someone sensible to come along, you had begun to lose hope, especially when people seemed to fuck left and right while you wanted something real.
With that wildfire. Perhaps a tornado thrown in as well.
After weeks and weeks of flirting, the man asked you out, and after weeks and weeks of going out, you came to the conclusion that if someone deserved to be your first, it was Simon Riley. If there was any guy you wished would take you against a wall until you begged for mercy, it was him. At least in your fantasies, which were starting to get out of hand.
In real life, things were not that breezy.
Because what would he say if – no, when – you told him you were a virgin at this age? What if he would be bothered, what if things would get awkward between you two?
What if he decided you were simply too much trouble than you were worth?
It seemed like a miracle that the guy was still around, having been left blue-balled date after date. Either he was hellbent on conquering you, or then… Well, you didn't even dare to think about or's and then's and what if's. Especially when your own feelings were getting equally out of hand as those fantasies.
He probably had plenty of experience, and the thought certainly didn't make you feel any better. How would you compare, being not only inexperienced but a whole goddamn virgin? And it would probably hurt on top of everything. This man must be pretty damn big downstairs if 6 '4 feet and large hands were any indication.
Still, all fears flew out the window in record time every time he pulled you into a kiss. Your body molded into his already: the broad shoulders closed in around you, and it only felt thrilling. His warmth, his arms and scent enveloped you like the sweetest prison, and you held onto him as tightly as you could. Not because he wasn't clutching you with the same–if not greater–fervor, but because you wanted to make sure he was real.
And you realized what the allure of Simon Riley was.
He felt safe.
In fact, he was safe. He represented safety in all its aspects.
Who would've thought that death and wildfire could feel so good, so reliable?
You wondered if he thought this was some game; that you kept him waiting. The unwritten rule seemed to be that it was ok not to jump into bed on the first date. If anything, it was only a decent move. But what did the rules say about the second, third or fourth date? Not to talk about tenth?
Things were starting to resemble some prudent high school romance. Well, perhaps not prudent, the way you two practically ground against each other while making out after every date. Without being vocal about it or pressuring you in any way, you could tell he wished for things to go further. Hell, every fiber in this man begged for more. He would soon burn your clothes off simply with that searing gaze alone.
Watching the door close on that heated stare after at least 15 minutes of wanton, wicked kissing followed by clumsy Good night's and shy, apologetic smiles just wouldn't do anymore. The poor man was left breathless and puzzled in the cold night with nothing but a hard-on and the crumbs you gave him to keep him warm.
Things were getting ridiculous, criminally so, and you felt pity for those pants trying to keep him in confinement. You felt pity for your own soaked underwear as you climbed to a lonely bed all hot, bothered, and wet.
Which was why this evening would end with you asking him to come inside.
. . .
Lately, his hands have started to roam; they even cup your ass as he moans in your mouth – and hearing that raspy, low sound leave him forces the final decision. It's the final prophecy that tells you he is the one. You should’ve known it was only a matter of time with him.
The man hides his surprise well as you invite him in.
"Thought you'd never ask," he gives you a soft chuckle before stepping over the threshold to not only your apartment but also your life and privacy.
You barely get out of your shoes before his shadow engulfs you and strong hands lift you in his lap like you weigh nothing at all. You instinctively reach for support by clasping your hands behind his neck.
"You really know how to torture a man, don't you?" The brown in his eyes is nearly swallowed by warm darkness as he carries you to the bedroom.
"I'm sorry," you whisper, and he gives a short laugh of gravel.
"Don't be. This has been fun."
He sets you down next to the bed, and your heart is thumping so bad you fear he can hear it banging against your chest.
"But it's about time I torture you, right?"
Things happen so fast that it’s hard to tell who undresses who, but somehow, you find yourself standing in your bedroom with nothing but knickers and a bra on while he's taking off his pants. The man has definitely waited for this to happen for god knows how long, and it only makes your stomach lurch.
He thinks you know what you're doing, your brain offers when it should know when it’s time to shut the hell up. You can see the generous bulge this man is packing, and while perhaps compelling to other women, to you, it mainly looks intimidating. Threatening, almost.
He doesn't take his boxers off, seeing you're just standing there like some statue, still in your underwear and almost shaking from thoughts running rampant.
His form swallows you as he steps closer; wide hands slide up your arms, then draw you against him – against that demanding pulse that gets trapped between you two. Even through the black cloth, you can tell he's thick and big, just like you feared.
The man is blazing, and seems to have grown another foot in height as he towers over you with all that muscle. His shoulders are almost the size of your head, and you already know the hand that runs down your spine is experienced in crushing windpipes. It makes you breathe in shivers, and of course he notices something is wrong.
"Everything good?" He's eager and breathless, the erection pressing against you like a threat. He’s a man who has fashioned a weapon out of himself, so it shouldn't be a surprise that everything in him speaks violence.
"Yes," you try to assure him – a lousy lie only punctuated by the audible gulp that leaves your throat as you try to swallow your nerves back down.
"Just a little nervous," you tell him, a half confession.
"Mm. That makes two of us."
He draws down into a kiss, the hands of a soldier and a killer nearly drawing you up from the ground as he pulls you close. You don't really buy his claim of being nervous too: you can feel how he throbs between you, heavy and impatient.
Hesitantly, you reach to hug him as well, and you feel so small, so insignificant when wrapped around this… giant. The knowledge that you're about to be trapped under all this crushing weight leaves you both faint and needy.
He’s a good kisser, but as he moves to devour your neck, you start to freeze from the middle.
"Alright… Come here."
He half carries, half lays you down on the bed, then crawls between your legs and changes his tactic a little. Gentle kisses are ghosted down your throat, and soon, he's at your breasts, soft as a whisper. But as he draws the fabric of your bra aside, your nipple is caught inside a hot, wet mouth, and the wildfire surges forth. There’s no way out from under him anytime soon, and you realize the colossal body is already spreading your thighs wide.
The way he already looks so damn good there between your legs: big, the epitome of raw, masculine power… It's almost sinful that a man like him is here with a virgin. It's a whole new hell how he's kissing you gently as fuck while blazing like a bonfire about to engulf and devour you. You want to wrap your legs around his middle, attach yourself to him in any way you can, but your thighs are weak pudding.
You feel both lost and found with him. In him.
He sucks and kisses your breasts like they're the only thing he's here for – and it feels good, heavenly, to be honest. But then he starts to travel down.
Shit… You need to tell him – and soon, or else there will be no time to say anything before the last of the shielding fabric is gone.
He doesn't even stop with the kissing, merely hums on your skin as his mouth reaches your stomach.
"You're my first," you finally force the truth into the night; a soft and desperate fact. It's only the faintest breath, but he halts abruptly like he has been stabbed between the ribs.
Here comes the awkward.
He rises. Softly, slowly, like a shadow, just a second away from getting to what's between your legs.
"Is that so?"
His voice is hoarse and dark from arousal. The whole man is intoxicating, and your heart is hammering in your chest, both from hunger and dread.
A broad hand comes to rest on the dip of your waist; gently, like you're some frightened animal about to dart off from under his touch.
"Love… Are you sure you want to do this?"
Are you? You almost ask, then bite your lip.
He just called you love, something he has never done before. You can see your breasts rising with the breaths you try to calm down with sheer willpower.
He lets out a small sigh, then crawls beside you and takes you in his arms. The bed sags and wails under his weight before your body is pulled into a delicious bear hug.
His voice is so smooth, so different from the intense, rough smoke that has followed you up until this point that you feel vehement tears burn your eyes. First love, and now, sweetheart…
"There's no need to rush things," he says while keeping you close. Ever the gentleman, but you fear that you've ruined everything.
"We haven't exactly been rushing," you mutter somewhere in the plates of his chest. You both feel and hear how another sigh travels up his throat and is breathed into the crown of your head.
"Now… listen to me, ok? I've wanted you ever since we met. Can't deny it. But the last thing I want is to force you to do something you don’t wanna do."
You squeeze your eyes shut from what he says. Ever since you met… You can remember the lingering gazes, the way his eyes lit up with something hopeful and pure, how it drove away the exhaustion that seemed to have made a home in this big, brooding man. You remember how he stole a few stares up and down your body, too; remember the hunger he never even tried to conceal – not until now.
He is the most enthralling being you have ever seen, a mystery and a force of nature, an indomitable man, and to say that you haven't thought about him that way ever since too would be a lie.
"But I want it," you look up at him slowly, feeling much safer now that he's holding you like this.
I want you.
You realize you're pouting when the warm look in his eyes gains a playful glint as he laughs softly.
"You want it?"
That little twinkle turns into a downright gleam as he looks at you like you're the most adorable thing he has ever seen.
“You want it with me?”
"How much do you want it?" The charred voice is so soft now: it washes over you in generous waves. His hands keep you in safe custody – and you're the most willing prisoner there ever has been.
"Pretty badly?" You breathe into the air between you and see the corner of his mouth tug.
"Well, in that case…" His hand sweeps down your back and comes to reside on the swell of your hip. "I'm glad I'm here to help."
Pale eyelashes drop to your lips just before he kisses you again. You arch in his arms, like a flower leaning towards sunlight; your mouth, your whole being unfurls under his leadership. He rolls partly on top of you, then moves to kiss you all over as you lie on your back: he kisses your chin and neck, your collarbones and the hollow little crevice between them. The hand on your hip brushes down your thigh, then back up, up, until his fingers meet the folds already soaked through the fabric of your underwear.
His touch is soft, but gains more weight as he sweeps slowly up, then brushes a thumb over the exact location of your clit.
He knows what he's found, even without the evidence of your voiceless shake of a breath. He brushes another stroke over it, and it doesn't matter that you still have your undies on – you can feel his weight, the gentle pressure he applies as he draws a circle to usher another soft moan out of you.
"You like that?"
"Mhm," is the only thing you are able to answer.
"That's it…" he cheers you on with calm assurance. "Gonna make you feel good. And that's a promise."
You catch a hint of ego in that promise, but there's something else, too. A fervent devotion, a bottomless need to please you no matter what. The right man, definitely: not someone who is only after their own satisfaction. You don't exactly need the answer anymore, but you ask the final, burning question nonetheless.
"Speak your mind, love."
"Are you disappointed…?"
He stops again, a breath away from you.
"Disappointed?" He sounds quite shocked, almost appalled. "...Disa–"
He huffs, then reaches to cup your face. You raise your eyes to his and see that he's…ardent, and very, very serious.
"Love, I'm honored."
You can only blink at the solemn vow, and he slowly shakes his head.
"Silly little thing…"
It's something he muses almost to himself before he drags his fingers over your sternum and down your stomach, reverently, like you're a piece of precious porcelain. But the heat in his eyes is back, and your fingers curl to grasp a fistful of sheet as his hand disappears underneath the cloth, when he finally touches you with nothing in between.
You suppose it's his middle finger that sweeps over your clit this time, then slips between your folds without effort. It coaxes your thighs open to give him better access, and access he has: he curls the finger until it almost dips inside. Your lips part with a quiet sigh as your chin climbs toward the ceiling.
"Look at that… All wet and sweet for me already."
The way you expose your neck is like an invitation: he buries his face in your neck, tries to drown in the scent and feel of you while gliding across the wetness down below. He spreads moisture on the tight bud, and you jerk a little from how sensitive it is – he huffs a smile in your ear. It makes you release the sheet and reach out to grasp him by the neck, to make him stay precisely where he is, close like this, so close…
"Do ya even know how bloody sweet you are?"
The last of your wits make a vanishing act as he breathes more praise on your skin. You're languid in his arms, feeling both weightless and heavy, like you're sinking into the mattress, and then his hand moves lower; one thick finger is plunged slowly inside.
Oh God oh God–
You feel him, all of him, filling and spreading you. And it's not enough… not nearly enough.
"We'll take it nice and slow, alright?" He whispers in your ear, and you tighten around him like on command. "Got all night to make a mess of you. That sound good?"
You can't help it: your lips draw into a smile when thinking about all the things he will do to you, all the sweet things you've always waited to happen.