#ghost x y/n

[metallictastinglifesupportliquid]

Y/N: I’m in love with you. Ghost: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork. Y/N: I know. Ghost: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

[codnasties]

kinktober ₊˚ · ♡ ·˚₊ ghost & price ₊˚ · ♡ ·˚₊ hike

you wanted to go on a hike but didn't want to do it alone, so both ghost and price offered to accompany you as well as their expertise, just in case. it was lovely having those to to share the trek with, having someone to talk with, to share the experience and also as a bit of protection.

but the first thing you needed to protect yourself from was john's hands, because he tried to keep them to himself, but the view of your ass clad in those pants was way too tempting. so he decided to give you what you both classified as a playfull slap, but he actually intended to let you know he was enjoying the view.

the problem is that it wasn't just one, they kept coming, and you somehow ended up bent over, with price's hands teasing your round behind throug your thin pants. but he soon discarded those, pulling them down and giving him a view of your pants clad pussy and your ass cheeks that were rapidly turning red.

the smacks on your behind didn't stop, one after the other, maybe a teasing slap over the wet patch that was starting to show though your knickers. but he soon discarded those too.

once price had had his fill, he grabbed you by the waist and with easy he lifted you off the floor and placed you over a fallen tree, giving him easy access to your butt ad cunt in that bent over possition. it was a split of a second what it took him to get his aching hard cock out of his pants and push himself into your tight walls.

and you may ask, where's ghost? well, he was enjoying the view of your reddened cheeks and dripping pussy, adoring the image of you bent over that tree getting your pussy fucked by his captain. he was letting him have his fun first, all while palming his raging hard on through his pants.

but that didn't last long, the feeling of your tight and soaking wet walls made price, who hadn't fucked a pretty thing in a long time, cum a lot faster than he would have liked. a few strokes into you and he has already realising his seed. as much as he wanted to cum inside of you, he didn't have your consent so he pulled out -what a waste if you ask me -.

but even if joh felt like he didn't give you enough and that he may have disappointed you, there was simon ready to save the day. in the blink of and eye he was fully naked and ripping the little clothing you had left on you off. grabbing you and making you sit on his big and angry cock.

he made you bounce on it, graving handfuls of ass to guide you until he came deep inside of you. all that gave price a show while he was recovering and getting himself ready for next round. also, that cum was going to be some amazing lube.

and that cum as lube was very much necessary when you got up from ghost's lap and sat of price's once again hard cock, and simon taking place right behind you, fully sandwiching you between both of their strong and muscular bodies, and pushing his member into your weeping and already stretched to it's limit cunt, fucking you at the same time as price.

both of their dicks being hugged by your walls and the men relishing in the feeling of that and rubbing against the others cock, the sensation making the three of you moan and groan like crazy.

price soon came inside of you - because that's just what he had in mind since he put his dick in you the first time-, filling your already full hole even more, covering both your walls and his and ghost's cocks with it. but simon doesn't. he takes his dick out after his captain came and gets you on your knees.

he makes you clean his shaft, inevitably having a taste of price's seed mixed with the one he had left indie of you before, using your throat until he cums down it. he may even paint your face with it to give you the complete package and full experience.

[ltash]

Banter

Lieutenant Ghost done dirty by you..

Warning: Explicit language

In the middle of a bustling training day, Ghost decided to tease you in front of the other soldiers. "What's your bra size, princess? Bet it's not much. You're so small," he chuckled, making sure everyone nearby could hear.

Without missing a beat, you fired back, “Don’t compare my bra size to your dick, sir."

Ghost’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but a flicker of amusement crossed his face. “Sharp tongue, princess. But watch it, I’m still your superior here.”

You smirked, unbothered by his warning. “I bet you're small. Two inches, maybe?”

The nearby soldiers were already stifling their laughs, but Soap couldn't hold back. “Someone’s feeling cheeky today.”

You grinned, not backing down. “Looks like your hulking body didn’t do your dick any justice, LT.”

Ghost’s jaw clenched, irritation bubbling beneath his cool exterior. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

"Sure I do," you taunted, leaning in. "Last night, you left your condom in my room."

The soldiers gasped, eyes wide in disbelief, while Soap nearly doubled over from laughing. Ghost, red-faced, looked around in panic. "Where did you get that?" he growled.

“Oh, don’t worry. I found it along with these.” You pulled out his ragged underwear, waving it for everyone to see. “You still wear this? It's begging to be thrown out, LT!”

The entire group erupted into laughter, Soap wiping tears from his eyes. Ghost snatched the underwear back, stuffing it into his pocket. “That’s enough, princess.”

“Oh no,” you teased, “I’ve got another pair! I’m gonna hang this one on the flagpole.”

Ghost’s eyes widened in horror. “Don’t you dare!” he growled, stepping closer, trying to intimidate you.

You shrugged, totally unfazed. "Imagine your underwear, full of holes, flying proudly for all to see."

Soap, barely containing his glee, grinned. “Honestly, I’d love to see that.”

Ghost was near his breaking point when you pulled out another surprise, Soap’s thong. “Found this in your drawer, Soap. Didn’t know you were into thongs.”

Soap’s face turned beet red, fumbling for an explanation. “It’s not what you think! I was just..”

Ghost cut him off, exasperated. “Shut it, Soap.”

The soldiers were howling with laughter, and you decided to push further. You pulled out a smutty magazine from Ghost’s stash. “What about these, LT? Jerking off to these, are we?”

The crowd went wild, barely able to contain their amusement. Ghost, flustered and red as a tomato, tried to salvage what little dignity he had left. “You shouldn't have been in my room in the first place!” he stammered.

“Why not? Plenty of interesting things in there. Next time, I’ll find you barging into the women’s showers.”

Soap leaned over, grinning. “This just keeps getting better.”

With a wink, you placed the condom back in Ghost’s hand. “Got this from the pharmacy, LT. Wanna learn how to use it?”

Ghost stared at the condom in disbelief, completely flustered. The soldiers were practically on the floor with laughter, while Soap, barely able to breathe, grinned and said, “Mate, I think she’s got you beat.”

Before Ghost could respond, you leaned in close, whispering, “Wanna play with it? I’ll show you how.”

His eyes widened, but before he could say anything, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, speechless and humiliated.

The soldiers, still laughing, shook their heads in disbelief. Soap clapped Ghost on the shoulder, grinning. “LT, I think you’ve met your match.”

[serialkilluh1996]

☠︎︎𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐄☠︎︎

Possessive-Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female-Reader

Request (summarized): Possessive!Boyfriend!Ghost

Requested anonymously

Themes: fluff

୨୧ Stay in for the night. Ghost doesn't want you to go out alone. Besides, he'll spoil you rotten anyway. ୨୧

CW: use of '☆☆☆' in place of reader's name, implied age gap (it's up to you how big it is) possessive behavior (obviously),Ghost is a little rough with you, mentions of drugging, Contact me if I need to add more.

Ghost had issues. Mommy issues, daddy issues, anger issues; you name it, he's struggling with it. But, God, did my guy have trust issues. He had a habit of checking both your phones for the time just in case one of your devices were off by a minute or so. He initially couldn't help being this way. He's just so anxious. And it makes him...possessive.

Ghost sits leaned back on the couch, legs spread like warm butter on a pancake, still in uniform as he was too lazy tired to take it off. His hands are clasped together as he stares blankly at the TV, not even fully focused on whatever bullshit 90s romcom rerun was playing. He couldn't think about that right now. Not knowing you were in the other room, doing God knows what.

Simon had a heavy urge to burst in to see what you were doing, wondering if he'd find you sexting some random guy on tumblr (or whatever other social media platforms you had), but he knows even the slight implication that he thinks you're cheating will piss you off, so he stays in place, brown eyes hazed with thought.

His head whips instantly, his mind processing as you walk past him in some skimpy cheetah print (favorite color) dress, some chunky black heels, and your favorite necklace. He gruffs lowly, standing to his feet as you reach for the door.

He grabs your hand, turning you around.

"Where're you goin'?" His voice is low, yet animated, pointing out his frustration at your lack of even acknowledging your own boyfriend's presence. "Out." You answer flatly.

Ooh, he did NOT like your attitude. His grip on your wrist tightens. "Aren't you a smartass? Out where, love?" His tone is more sarcastic. "My friend's house. She's throwing a party." You respind, now frowning at his grasp on you.

Oh. Hell. No.

"Tell her you can't make it." "What?" "Ya heard me, love. Cancel. You're not going." He looks down at you, his towering stature adding a certain predatory feel to his serious gaze. "You can't decide if I go. You're not my dad." You pouted.

His brows loosen at that, eyes widening a bit. "You always do this, Simon. I'm not your little girl, I'm a grown damn woman. You think you can just boss me around cause I'm younger and shorter than you but you cannot keep doing this to me. You keep me locked in this house like a pet. You don't trust me." You snatch your hand away, folding your arms.

"...☆☆☆... baby. I do trust you. You're the only one I trust. It's everyone else I'm worried about. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I let you go out and something bad happens when I can prevent it." He explains, his hands easing into his pockets with guilt. He knows your right. He's always like this. Keeping you on such a tight leash.

You sigh, your gaze flickering between his eyes, seeing the shame. He was like a puppy being scolded for chewing to shoes. "...fine. I'll stay." You give in, walking past him and back up the stairs. He sighs, turning to watch you leave.

You lay in bed, arms folded as Ghost rests his head on your tummy. He looks up at you, pretty brown eyes filled with love as his thumbs caresses your hips. He's finally in something more comfortable, the fabric of his shirt between your thighs feeling oh so warm and cozy.

Neither of you spoke a weird, unsure if you were even able to talk to eachother. You were still a little cranky about his attitude, and he was still trying to suppress the guilt of pressuring you to stay.

"I'll make it up to you, love." "I'm sure you will." You respond flatly. "Don't be so uptight. I'll take you to your favorite restaurant tomorrow and we can get you a new band shirt from Spencer's." He rubs a hand across your stomach. "Bribery doesn't work on me, Simon." You turn away.

"I'll add on a new handbag and a little sweet treat too." He offers in a singsong voice. "Well,...I do want a little sweet treat." You run a hand through his dusty blonde hair. "Good." He squeezes your hips. "I'll buy you anything you want as long as you let me keep you safe." He smirks. You couldn't be mad at him forever. Not when he was so cunning.

୨୧ You can support me by liking, commenting, reblogging, and/or cashapping me @fundsbrownie. Donations are optional, but much appreciated. Have fun! And remember, take care of yourself.

[xxetherealsweetheartxx]

Spider hybrid!Ghost x Reader, NSFW, MDNI

🕸️A loud moan escaped your lips as his hands roamed your body. Two holding your arms up so you can’t escape him, two on your hips for stability and two roaming your body. “Well, look what we have here…?” He whispered into your ear, his hands harshly pulling at your clothes. 🕸️You should’ve listened to the warnings of the townspeople, but curiosity lured you into the dark woods and before you knew it, you landed in the spider’s web. Your legs glued to his white silk, no chance of escaping. You pleaded that he let you go, but he just chuckles at your poor attempt. “Oh..? And let my meal escape? No chance, luv.” 

🕸️He finally managed to (poorly) rip your clothes off of you, body shivering as the wind blew. He moved you so that he had both your legs under his arms as he positioned his leaking dick under your entrance. You let out a moan as he penetrated you in one motion. It burned, but in the best way possible as he starts slowly fucks you, getting used to your wet walls before picking up speed. Your head falls back on his broad shoulder as his fingers dug into your thigh. Feeling his second pair of hands roaming your body, twisting your nips, touching your clit and wrapping around your throat. You felt so overstimulated. His cock kept hitting your cervix, and you’re pretty sure it’ll be bruised in the next morning. It didn’t take long before you came around his cock, your walls tightening his walls as he continued to pound into you, before finally climaxing. He came SO MUCH. It was basically gushing all out while he was still riding out his high until he finally stopped. You tried calming yourself down with a few breaths before he put you down. Immediately he held your hands behind your back before using his silk to make handmade handcuffs. “You’ll stay with me from now on, luv.”

[circusinthewalls]

SFW Ghost Ramblings - 18+ MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS DNI

(CW: References to Past Sexual Assault, Implied Suicidal Ideation | Therapy Dog Hybrid! Reader | This is Reciprocal Pt. 2) [Masterlist]

You hide it well. The profound ache in your heart that's come with seeing him like this. It's like your mind is on fire. You can only imagine how he feels. Being outside only does so much to cull the sourness emanating from him. Faint, but undoubtedly there. Cortisol.

That's right. Good dog.

Your nose crinkles as the instinctive praise rings through your mind, a distant memory brought to the forefront. Enough of that then. This isn't about you.

Simon's pistol is back in the armory, the keys to the building in your hand. You're not even sure that he's registered yet that he gave them over to you. After all, you're certainly not authorized to have them. Though you suppose that can be dealt with later. There's a necessary conversation to be had with the Captain come the morning, anyways.

Sliding your hands into your pockets, you continue on in your little trek with the Lieutenant, trudging about in the cold on some aimless path to who knows where. Just the crunch of the gravel breaks the silence now, each of your steps a little lighter than his. He has a gait like he's off kilter, and for once you hope it's a past injury, rather than inner turmoil that's made him so unbalanced.

"Do you like the cold, Ghost?" You give a half-glance back in his direction upon asking the question. "Personally I find the weather up north a bit much for my tastes."

He merely grunts in acknowledgement. Maybe because he knows you're better suited for it than you're pretending to be, but it's not like it particularly matters. A grunt is better than nothing. A response, even if small, is something you can work with.

He's caught up to you now, easily able to fall in with your more relaxed stride since you've slowed down to tell whatever little story.

"More rain than snow where I'm from, but I don't think I mind it," you prattle on. "Quite like the rain. The sound of it, the smell of, mm.. Believe it's called 'petrichor.'"

You keep on for some time with Simon listening in silence. Tragedy still feels like it's woven into his nerves, but this helps. Your late night musings soothe the tension that's been ingrained in him since years ago.

When he steps out in front of you, you finally quiet, watching as he pulls open the door to the barracks. You hadn't meant to end up here, but you suppose the night was bound to come to a close like this regardless.

"Always find your way home, don't you?" he rumbles with amusement.

Somehow you can swear there are hints of a smile hiding beneath that mask. Wonder if he'd ever let you see it.

It's not until you're both in his bed that you really think on it more. On this, on.. all of it. And there's that ache settling itself deep in again. You watch him try over and over to get comfortable, sat there on the edge and peeking back over your shoulder.

Off comes the shirt, only about halfway before he hesitates in tugging it back down. Then again and once more after that. He doesn't even notice you're looking, and when that occurs to you, you think better of it.

In the end, his shirt stays on, and you lay across his chest like always. Only tonight, he doesn't roll over to curl in around you. Try as he might, those hands still claw at his spine, and having his back to the mattress is the best he can do to dampen the sickly impressions left behind.

He's thankful for the pressure your weight provides, showing it with the slow circles his hands draw between your shoulders. You're not sure when, but somewhere between the waking world and total slumber, his heartbeat settles. A gentle flutter thrumming beneath your ear.

He's probably dead, actually. And even if he wasn't, you'd pull down every star in the sky, fold up the very edges of the universe if you had to, to make it true.

Anything.. to give the Lieutenant peace of mind.

Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.

---------------------------------------------------

Holy shit this took?? So long to write. Hope y'all can forgive me for not getting this out sooner. There was a lot I specifically wanted to get down in this second part in particular while also making sure that a topic like grieving your own past loss of autonomy and battling with the unfairness of knowing that your abuser is potentially just out there doing fine got the respect it deserves.

This topic hits very close to home for me personally, so I really felt it was important to get it... right? If that makes sense.

Anyway, some lighter stuff coming soon. Have a good day folks and enjoy. o7

[graphicpepsi]

salvatore (nsfw, mdni)

Ghost taking his mask off during sex for the first time.

He doesn't even mean to- but with the way you’re riding him like that, the slap of your ass against his strong hips bucking up into you-

he can't stop his hand from pulling off his hot balaclava, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. you're so fucking tight around him- your shaking legs sending pulses up his body.

"Si-Simon," Your mouth falls agape at the sight of the man before you, his blue eyes rolled back, lips parted as he watches you bounce up and down on his dick.

His hands grab the fat of your hips, red hand prints forming underneath them.

"Fuck luv, 'jus like that,"

He bucks his hips up into you before flipping you on your back.

"Simon-"

He snaps his hips into you hard, the tip of his dick pushing into your cervix, gummy walls pulsing around him like fucking heaven.

"Fucken 'ell,"

His eyes fall to the bulge in your tummy, his jaw going slack.

Your pussy stretched to its brim around his thick cock- you were so good for him, almost splittin yourself in two.

"Simon, wanna cum," You whine, blinking back the tears in your eyes.

"I know luv, me too,"

You scratch at his back with your nails, leaving pretty red lines for him to admire the next morning.

He snaps into you harder, placing a warm hand over the bulge in your tummy, pushing into it.

God, he was pretty.

You came around his cock shakily, shuddering into him. You love this feeling, love being stuffed full of his girthy dick.

You pull the hair at the nape of his neck and that's all it takes for him to cum inside of you.

Moments later you're sprawled over his bare chest with his arm thrown around you. You're playing with the hem of his discarded balaclava with your fingers. His hand strokes your arm lovingly.

"Handsome," You murmur, eyes flicking up to the curve of his jaw.

...

[euno11a]

it is proven that majority of women can’t orgasm from intercourse alone. So imagine reader who can’t make herself cum, no matter how she touches her swollen little bud.

it’s becoming more annoying as you keep trying, different speeds, pressures, and angles, but nothing seems to work for you! It’s gotten to the point where you’ve quite frankly given up on even touching yourself. You’ve tried for so long, yet always get nothing.

so imagine telling Simon when he asks you, oh so kindly when on deployment, to touch yourself with him to make you both feel good. The silence over the phone when you say you can’t.

“What?”

“I just can’t. I’ve tried, but it just doesn’t work for me.”

“‘Ave ya-?”

“I’ve done everything, Simon! I can’t, okay?”

it was clear that this was something that you weren’t comfortable with talking about. It made you upset that you didn’t “function correctly” like other women. So the night Simon came home, he greeted you with a soft kiss. There wasn’t any harsh underlying emotion, just soft and sweet love. His large and calloused hands would cup your cheeks and look at your eyes, watching the slight confusion slip into your gaze.

now laying against his sturdier chest, looking at yourself in the mirror with him behind you, you knew what was happening. He gently pulled down your sleeping pants, taking his time to let his fingertips brush against every inch of your thighs, all the way down to your ankles. And soon enough, off came your panties too. He started by admiring the slight glistening of your slick right by your entrance, using his fingers to gently dip into the fluid that he loved. Dragging his fingers upwards, he brought his fingertips to the side of your clit, letting your slick be the lube for his fingers.

Simon looked at you through the mirror, keeping eye contact as his fingers pressed onto your clit. The gasp that left your lips was sudden, almost reaching down to grab his wrist, but stopping when he gave you a stern warning look. Everything felt different - his touch felt electrifying, while yours felt like watching paint dry. Why was it so different? Your eyes fluttered shut, head resting on his shoulder when he started speeding up his small circular motion. Your thighs spread a little more, shuddering when you felt a build up in your lower tummy. That burn you never felt unless you used a toy, the burn you got before you were clouded with euphoria; it was coming. You let out small squeaks and whimpers as your hips lifted and you came undone. Usually that’s when you’d stop, let your body just relax, but Simon kept a firm hand across your torso, using his leg to keep yours pinned down so he could still rub you till complete satisfaction.

once his movements slowed and he was panting along with you slightly, he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, looking at your eyes through the mirror again.

“I don’t care what time of day it is, if ye need t’cum, y’tell me and I’ll help, love. Alrigh’?”

you mustered a small nod, droopy eyes falling to the wet and sticky mess between your thighs, and the lovely hands that helped you along the way.

[amaranthinespirit]

boyfriend!simon riley when you're mad at him

simon can easily tell when something's off with you.

he'd be clueless as to why you're giving him the cold shoulder, your lips sealed shut with closed off body language, arms crossed over your chest and a sour expression on your face.

although, on some occasions, it's easy for him to recognize what he'd done because let's be honest, simon riley has a habit of pissing off his lovie. just means it gives him a reason to make it up to you.

whether you're frowning, clanking things aggressively in the kitchen, his big hands would wrap around your waist, effortlessly dragging you to sit up on the counter, weaseling his way between your legs before you can shut him out. you can't shut him out, lovie.

a gasp escaping your lips involuntarily. his rough palms pressed your thighs, pushing your legs further apart of his lips traveled down your neck before skipping to your clothed cunt. his tongue pressed flat against the cotton, eyes fluttering shut for a mere second at the faint taste of you before peeling away your panties.

he didn't give you time to react, latching his lips around your sensitive clit, tongue teasing along your puffy folds. a low chuckle rumbling against your sopping pussy when your hands went to his short-cropped hair, tugging at the strands.

"still mad, baby? hmm?" his voice was dangerous; low and raspy, vibrating against your drooling cunt as he lazily lapped up your slick. a slight frown still on your face, and a small nod pulled his lips into a smirk. he knew what you were doing, lovie, you can't fool him.

"oh, are ya?" he'd hum, "can't 'ave tha' now."

or maybe you're on the couch, sulking as you stare at the blank tv screen. he'd press on your shoulder, pushing you to lie flat back on the cushions, keeping a warm, calloused hand pressed to your stomach.

burying his face in your damp cotton panties, crooked nose putting a teasing pressure on your little clit, the friction of the fabric sending a spark through your body.

he could spend hours between your legs, just lapping up the sweet slick that drools from your slit, teasing your pearl that easily becomes more and more sensitive, slipping in his thick fingers to coax your walls for his heavy cock later.

so go on, lovie, keep being mad at him, it just means he gets to make it up by burying his face in your sweet pussy.

[tacticalprincess]

simon and könig being unable to stop bickering for a second, even when they’re balls deep inside of you. they’ve got you in an Eiffel Tower, könig’s cock filling your glossy pussy while simon stuffs your mouth. it took ages of convincing for them to even consider this position, but eventually they decided to put their discrepancies aside for the sake of you, their precious, spoiled little thing. it didn’t last very long though…

“jackhammer much, mate? you’ve got her choking on me over here.” simon points out, his heavy hand stroking your hair soothingly. könig’s using your hips as leverage, bucking into you at a rabid pace, each of his thrusts lurching your body forward and forcing you to take more of simon’s dick down your poor throat. “what happened to treatin’ the princess with care?”

“it’s okay, she likes it. isn’t that right, maus?”

your cheeks warm up as you hum around simon’s dick noncommittally. nothing gets passed the l.t though, and suddenly he’s gripping you by your hair, pulling your mouth off his cock.

“wait, you let him fuck your face?” he asks, sounding genuinely offended.

you wipe the line of spit that trails from your swollen lips all the way to his still hard dick, hovering just out of reach. you huff. “he’s more sadistic than you…” you say sheepishly in response, voice staccato from könig’s thrusts.

“you tellin’ me i’m the soft sex guy? the aftercare fuck?”

“‘s alright, mate.” könig reaches over your naked body to pat his comrade on the shoulder. “youve got boyfriend dick. happens to the best of us.”

[killerpancakeburger]

Thinking about a Reader who ends up having Scary Dog Privileges with Ghost without meaning to. It just happened.

Then they have to deal with the fact that this comes with duties too.

Tags: civilian!reader, gn!reader, mostly fluff, a bit suggestive, smug!Ghost, smooth!Ghost. 800 words.

Part 2.

When Ghost is reluctant to getting sutured in Medical after accidentally opening his stitches, grumbling he can do it himself, who does the nurse call for? Yeah, you.

She could stand her ground, after all she's used to dealing with big, whiny men, but it's much more fun to knock on your door and smile at your bewildered gaze and gaping mouth when she explains the situation in two sentences.

"Ghost's being difficult, mind taking over?" "I'm sorry, what the hell does this have to do with me?" "C'm'on, everyone on base knows he's got a soft spot for you. Don't you want to make my job easier?"

You roll your eyes and slam your hands on your desk as you get up. Groaning as you walk past her— "I'm doing this for you, nothing else, got it?"

Mumbling to yourself "you've got to be kidding me" as you barge into the sick bay. Ghost is coolly seated at the end of a bed, large as life, casual clothes as black as his mask and— oh. You weren't told the wound was on his thigh— you weren't warned that he didn’t have pants on. You can’t help it, your eyes go down, down, your lingering gaze and your flustered silence forming a confession louder than words.

A noise — a scoff or a grunt, you’re not sure — emanates from him, breaks your trance, makes you look up. The amusement in his gaze tells you he noticed your oggling— of course he did. Nothing gets past the Ghost, and you've been remarkably unsubtle. Despite the mask, you swear you can make out the smug smirk on his lips. His cockiness reignites your irritation. Annoyance making you bolder than you really are, you charge at him, crossing the distance between you two in a stride, stopping close— too close. He doesn't back off.

"What's wrong with you?" you snarl. "Nothin'," he retorts, imperturbable.

It's actually the first time you’re overlooking him. You may be enjoying it a bit too much. Nevermind the fact that you've had to wedge yourself between his parted legs to get there.

You frown, unconvinced by his answer.

“Did Soap contaminate you?”

Bargaining to be cleared out earlier was the Scotsman's trademark.

“Johnny throws a fit cos he hates feeling useless. That's not what I'm doing.”

A smirk stretches your lips.

“Oh, no? I'm sure your reasons are much more noble.”

“Doesn't matter. Got what I wanted anyway.”

He's way too self-satisfied for a man in his underwear.

You throw an unequivocal look in the direction of his injury.

“What you wanted? A still open wound?”

“You.”

He replied without missing a beat, as confident as usual. It is both alluring and aggravating.

“And your idea of wooing me is making me upset?”

You don't add “because if it is, that's really fucking stupid” out loud, but you’re sure he got the message through your tone.

“Nah. But you're more honest when you’re angry. Gutsier.”

You only realize he slipped his index and middle fingers in your trouser loops when he sharply tugs at them. Off balance, you steady yourself by catching his shoulders.

Taking advantage of the strip of bare skin between your shirt and bottoms, the pads of his thumbs idly stroke your hip bones. The contact sends electricity through you, shivers of pleasure running down your sides.

“Ghost,” you start, severe, trying not to let the effect his touch has on you show in your voice.

“Simon,” he counters, surly. “Told ya it's Simon when we're alone, didn't I?”

He did, but you didn’t think he was serious. If that's what it takes to get him to listen… you’ll play by his rules.

“Simon. What's the rest of your brilliant plan? I'm here, but I can’t stitch you up.”

“How ‘bout a deal. I'll stop resisting… for a price.”

You raise an amused eyebrow.

“What kind of price?”

“A kiss.”

You snort. You didn’t believe him capable of something so… puerile.

“With the mask on?”

He doesn't move a muscle to get rid of it.

“Take it off.”

You usually wouldn’t obey what sounds like an order so easily, but it's the first time you get to touch the skull. Slipping two fingers between skin and cloth, you slowly roll up the mask all the way under his nose.

You gently trace the scars surrounding his lips. Then, the second you feel him relax, grip on your hips slackening and intensity of his gaze waning, you grab the bottom of his mask and drag it back down vigorously, making the holes for the eyes land way too low for him to see anything.

“If you thought you'd get a reward for acting out, you've got another think coming.”

[metallictastinglifesupportliquid]

Ghost: I cut my finger Y/N: I can kiss it so it'll get better Ghost: That works? Y/N: Yeah my mum used to do it when I was little *later* Ghost: I need you to punch me in the mouth Roach: Fucking finally

[codnasties]

big dicked ghost 👻 (🌽 link)

there is no denying, simon is BIG. in all senses of the world. he's tall and built like a fucking tank. and it reflects in what's between his thick and strong legs. because his dick isn't just big, it's girthy.

and his girth becomes a problem when fucking you, because a bit of foreplay isn't enough to get your poor pussy ready for what's about to come. quickies are not an option with ghost, because he has to spend a quite decent amount of time preparing you to take him.

he always starts eating you out, getting you nice and wet. and then his mouth starts getting accompanied by a chunky finger, while his lips latch around your clit, sucking incessantly. and one finger becomes two, and then three as he slowly works you open.

it may be a tedious job in some ways, but the reward is top notch. and it comes in the form of some of the best fucks in the world, with the extra stimulation coming from his with splitting you in two. and for him? the feeling of your tight walls hugging his cock.

and trust me, he's going to be balls deep inside of you.

[ltash]

Him

He is the devil she's been praying for

And

She is the angel he's been looking to hunt.

The chow hall was alive with the quiet chatter of soldiers, yet none of it reached your ears. It was just background noise, irrelevant, unimportant, because the only thing that existed was

Him.

Across the room, Ghost’s gaze held you captive, fierce, and unyielding. His eyes, dark with an intensity that stole your breath, traced the curve of your neck, the slope of your bare shoulders. You felt his gaze before you even saw him, its weight tangible, as though it could press you down, make you fold in on yourself. The marks he’d left on your skin, small tokens of his hunger, glistened in the dim light, remnants of a night that still tingled in your veins.

A shiver raced down your spine, but you couldn’t look away. His stare was suffocating and intoxicating all at once, like a flame that both scorched and seduced. Even clothed in something as simple as casual wear, stripped of the armour that usually encased him, Ghost emanated a raw masculine energy that wrapped itself around you, holding you in place.

He was a storm, and you were caught in the eye, drawn into the depths of his unspoken desire. Every breath, every heartbeat felt like it belonged to him.

Around you, the others carried on, laughing, talking, and unaware of the heat simmering between you and Ghost. The distance between you was nothing, just space that he could close in an instant if he wanted to. And the way he was looking at you, with that dark, possessive hunger in his eyes, made it clear he wanted to.

It was more than desire. It was a pull, something primal that went deeper than lust. His eyes spoke of a hunger that had nothing to do with your body alone, it was the kind of hunger that could consume you, devour you whole. You could feel it pulling at you, tugging at some buried part of yourself that craved his darkness.

And the more you fought it, the more you resisted the magnetic force that drew you to him, the stronger it became. It lured you closer, whispering in your mind to surrender, to step willingly into the flames. He was danger incarnate, each rough edge of him sharp enough to cut, and yet you wanted to feel the sting of those blades, to press yourself against the jagged edges of his being.

His demons danced just behind his eyes, shadows flickering beneath the surface of his calm facade. And you? You were entranced by them, drawn to the chaos that lingered inside him. He was a man who had seen the edge of hell and come back scarred but stronger. That darkness in him, it lured you in as much as it warned you to stay away.

But you couldn’t heed the warning. The more you tried to suppress the yearning, the more it consumed you. It was as if his gaze reached out and touched you, fingers ghosting over your skin, igniting a fire that spread through your veins. You could almost feel his hands on you, even though he hadn’t moved. The weight of him pressed against your chest, his stare making your body respond in ways you hadn’t thought possible.

It was dangerous, this attraction, this pull between you. It whispered of things that could break you, ruin you, tear you apart from the inside out. You knew Ghost wasn’t a man who could be loved softly. He would be a brutal, raw, relentless, an unforgiving force that would shatter you if you let him.

And yet, despite the warning bells ringing in your mind, your body wanted more. It wanted to be consumed by him, to step willingly into the chaos that swirled around him. There was no logic to it, no reasoning that could pull you back from the edge. Only instinct, pure and primal, urged you forward towards him, towards the fire that you knew would burn you alive.

Ghost was more than a man. He was a storm, a force of nature, and you were ready to surrender to let yourself be swept up in his darkness, even if it meant being destroyed in the process.

[celestialprincesse]

🎀💕🌺💐

"C'mon, open up, baby. Be a good girl for daddy." Simon's gruff voice echoes through the kitchen of your shared apartment, sending shivers down your spine as you cock your head inquisitively to the side.

"Promise it won't hurt, and afterwards I'll get yo a real big treat, hm? How's that sound my pretty girl?"

What the fuck? Who the fuck is he talking to?

It's not you, that's for sure.

Silently, you make your way to just outside the kitchen door, pushing it open with a wince at the slight squeak. You remind yourself to whip out the WD-40 later.

"Oh, thank God you're here." Simon sighs, having obviously noted your presence. It's unfair, really, that you can't sneak up on your own husband in your own. home.

Making you feel even sillier still, is the fact that said husband is currently hunched over the wriggling form of your dog, flea prevention treatment in one hand and a bag of treats in the other.

"Gis' a hand. She won't take her fuckin' pills."

🎀💕🌺💐

Hi hello I thought of this last night after having writers block for weeks

[yawnderu]

A one-night stand with Simon completely ruins you for any other man.

His hands are forever tainted with blood and sin, yet despite the callouses adorning the rough skin, Simon’s touch is uncharacteristically gentle for someone his size, nearing a dangerous softness that has your heart beating faster by the second. 

His grip on your hips tightens, pulling you down onto his thick, hard cock, the flared tip slamming into the depths of your cunt, every single sensitive spot stimulated, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoing through the dimly lit room, mingling with your moans.

“Look at you.” His deep voice is thick with approval, tired eyes tracing the line of your collarbone, the swell of your tits, the curve of your waist, admiring you like you're nothing short of a work of art. So fucking perfect, and all his for the night. 

“Fuckin’ beautiful.” More than death’s instrument, Simon Riley is just a man, unable to resist temptation— unable to resist the pleading look in your eyes, silently begging for more. His grip on your hips falters, one of his hands trailing up your sweaty, warm skin, pulling you down until your face finds shelter on the crook of his neck, your soft lips hovering over his pulse, a silent display of trust given with such ease to a complete stranger. 

He pulled back and thrust inside you again, setting a less brutal rhythm, nothing in his hazy mind but the goal of making you cum first.  He couldn’t help but reach between your bodies, applying light pressure on your swollen clit as he fucked you deeper, his thick tip ramming against your cervix over and over, his breath hot against your skin with each groan leaving his lips.

His free hand comes up to grasp your jaw, fingers lightly digging into the skin as he captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a primal dance of lust. The bitter taste of tobacco and bourbon in his saliva makes you whine, your soft hands coming up to cup his cheeks, half-lidded brown eyes meeting your gaze when you pull away.

“Fuck… gonna cum.” Simon’s breath grows heavier at the pure hunger in your eyes, dancing along a vulnerability he wasn’t used to. Amid the pleasure coiling in your stomach, your hips begin to move to match his intense pace, meeting his thrusts halfway. Simon’s thumb presses harder against your swollen clit, circling it slowly, your walls tightening around his aching cock, dragging a quiet, muffled moan out of him.

“That’s it, sweetheart, cum for me.” Simon’s voice quivers as he lets out a low groan, his free hand going down to grab a handful of your ass, the fat and muscle seeping through his fingers when he squeezes. He pushes deeper into you, trying to reach that blissful peak you both crave. His thrusts grow more desperate, a familiar tightness in his lower stomach threatening to make him cum, using your body as leverage to fuck into you harder, deeper. 

“Oh… oh, fuck.” His cock twitches at your whiny moans, your walls growing even tighter around him, eyes rolling back as you finally collapse on top of him, heavy breaths leaving those soft lips he has grown to adore. Simon follows right after, unable to hold himself back, burying his cock inside you as deep as possible. Ropes of thick, hot cum paint your insides, marking you as his, even if only for that night. 

“You okay?” He tucked your face into his neck, allowing you to breathe in his scent— cigarettes, gunpowder, and the faint smell of licorice. He leaned down, pressing tender kisses all over your forehead and cheeks, not minding the thin layer of sweat coating your skin. His hands are warm and gentle, running up and down your back as you both catch your breath, giving you time to recover. 

“Mhm.” He pulled out of you slowly, tugging you into his side, his hand drifting down to your belly, rubbing circles on the tender skin to soothe you, his other hand pulling you closer, the aftermath of your passion lingering between you. Your fingers linger on his side, hesitantly running up and down, feeling the multiple bumps from old scars, gently rubbing a particularly bad set over his ribs.  His breath hitches, yet he remains quiet, allowing you to have all of him.