#simonghost

[ltash]

Samuel Roukin, "Simon Ghost Riley" officially welcoming me to the Taskforce.

He is the best ghost so far. He is so handsome and still rocking at 40, and he is sitting here without any makeup or filters.

[unsetmentallydistraught]

[ltash]

Afghan Jalebi

The dusty streets of Kandahar hummed with the quiet intensity that comes before a storm. Task Force 141 had landed quietly under the cover of night, their mission clear: eliminate a high-ranking Taliban leader involved in human trafficking. Young women were being stolen from their homes and sold off like property. The Taliban were operating under the radar, keeping these atrocities hidden from the world. But intel had come through , a local freedom fighter, known only as "Afghan Jalebi," had infiltrated their inner circle and was ready to provide the Task Force with the information needed to take down the operation.

Captain John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, and the rest of Task Force 141 were crouched around a map in their temporary safehouse. The flickering lantern light gave their shadows an exaggerated length on the cracked walls.

"This Afghan Jalebi," Price said, rubbing his beard thoughtfully, "she's the key to this operation. She's deep inside their network."

Ghost, his skull mask hiding any trace of emotion, spoke up. "Can we trust her, though? Freedom fighter or not, sitting between the Taliban doesn't inspire confidence."

Price looked at him, his eyes sharp. "She's their nightmare in disguise. From what I hear, she's a pain in their ass. We go in, make contact, and she'll give us what we need."

Soap MacTavish added with a grin, "And I hear she's got a way with them. Enough to keep them dancing and distracted."

Ghost glanced at Soap, then back at Price. "Let's hope that works in our favour."

That evening, they moved through the city's back alleys, shadows blending into shadows, the sound of distant celebrations in the air. They were nearing the Taliban's hideout. It wasn't some dark, dingy compound; instead, it was a lavish villa where tonight's meeting was disguised as a grand party.

The place was alive with music ,drums, flutes, and the rhythmic beats of traditional Afghan instruments. Ghost's sharp eyes scanned the crowd as they approached the entrance. The guests were laughing, drinking, and watching the show.

There, in the middle of it all, sat Afghan Jalebi.

She was every bit as mesmerizing as the stories said. Draped casually in a shawl over her shoulders, she wore fitted jeans and a simple white shirt, the picture of modern rebellion against the strict dress codes the Taliban enforced. Her thick, dark hair flowed down her back, the firelight from the surrounding torches highlighting her bronze skin and striking green eyes. The men around her, high-ranking Taliban members, were entranced as she sat among them like a queen surrounded by subjects.

As they entered, Ghost's eyes locked on her immediately. She was breathtaking, sure, but it wasn't her beauty that held his attention. It was the sheer audacity of the situation. She sat there, laughing lightly, while the men around her fawned over her. She was a snake in their den, and they didn't even know it.

Women were belly dancing in front of them, their brightly colored skirts spinning as the men clapped and cheered. One of the Taliban commanders handed Afghan Jalebi a glass of tea, which she took with a gracious smile before setting it down untouched.

Price motioned to Ghost. "We need to get closer."

They weaved through the crowd, moving towards her. As they neared, one of the Taliban members gestured at Afghan Jalebi, clearly drunk. "Dance for us!" he slurred, raising his cup in a toast. The others roared in approval.

She smiled sweetly, but there was an edge to her eyes. "I'm here to fight, not dance," she said with a teasing smirk, her voice smooth and confident. "You wouldn't want me to break your hearts, would you?"

The men laughed, thinking it a joke. Ghost, however, didn't miss the way her hand casually brushed against the hidden knife strapped to her thigh under

her shawl. She was ready to strike at any moment. Ghost respected that. She wasn't just a pretty face; she was dangerous, and that made her an asset.

As Ghost, Price, and Soap approached her, she caught sight of them, her expression not changing, but her eyes signalling she was aware of their presence. She subtly gestured with her hand for them to follow her lead. She then turned her attention back to the Taliban men, laughing along with them as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

One of the men leaned in closer to her, his breath reeking of alcohol. "You think you're too good to dance for us, Afghan Jalebi?" he sneered, his hand reaching for her arm.

In one fluid motion, she twisted out of his reach, standing up gracefully, all while maintaining a smile. "I'll let the others entertain you tonight," she said lightly. "I have some important guests to attend to." Her tone was playful but firm, commanding just enough respect to silence him.

She walked away from the group, signalling for Ghost and the others to follow her toward a darker corner of the courtyard. The men she left behind were too drunk and distracted to care where she went.

Once they were out of earshot, she spun around to face them, her expression serious now. "You took your time," she said in a low voice, her accent a blend of local inflexions and a foreign sharpness, as though she'd spent time away from her homeland.

Price crossed his arms. "We had to be careful. You're playing a dangerous game here."

Jalebi gave him a small smile, her eyes flicking to Ghost, who was silently observing her. "Every game is dangerous when you're playing with the Taliban. But you're here now, and we don't have much time."

Ghost's voice cut through the tension. "How do we know you're not setting us up?"

Her eyes met his, unflinching. "If I were setting you up, you wouldn't have made it past the entrance." She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. "The Taliban leader you're looking for is in the back room, overseeing the movement of the trafficked girls. They're planning to move them at dawn. If you want to stop them, we need to strike tonight."

"How many men does he have?" Price asked, always tactical.

"About thirty, heavily armed. But they're spread out, drunk, and distracted." She paused, eyes scanning the courtyard, noting the few men who were still alert. "If we're smart, we can take them down before they know what hit them."

Soap chuckled softly. "Sounds like you've already got this planned out."

Jalebi gave a half-smile, her green eyes flickering with a mischievous light. "I've been planning this for weeks. You boys are just the final piece of the puzzle."

Price stepped forward, getting to the point. "You said you'd lead us to the girls. Can you?"

"Yes," she replied confidently. "But we need to take out the leader first. Without him, the rest will scatter like rats. He's the only one keeping them organized."

Ghost nodded, his eyes never leaving her face. "What's your play?"

Jalebi's lips curled into a knowing smile. "I'll get you close. But when the time comes, you'll need to trust me."

"That depends," Ghost said darkly, "on whether or not you're worth trusting."

Her smile didn't falter. "You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?"

Without another word, she turned and began walking back toward the party, her body language casual as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Ghost watched her for a moment before following, his hand resting on the pistol hidden beneath his robes.

As they approached the main area again, Jalebi's demeanour shifted back into her role, laughing lightly as she rejoined the group of men. Ghost, Price, and Soap split off, moving toward the back of the villa where she had said the leader was hiding.

Inside, the atmosphere was more subdued but no less tense. Armed guards stood at the doors, their eyes scanning the room, though many were more interested in the festivities outside. Jalebi sauntered in, her presence instantly drawing the eyes of the guards. She smiled at them, offering a teasing greeting as she stepped closer to the door leading to the back rooms.

Ghost, staying in the shadows, saw her signal with a subtle tilt of her head. It was time.

As Jalebi distracted the guards, Ghost and the others moved swiftly, neutralizing them before they could react. Within seconds, the guards were down, and the door to the back room was open.

Inside, the Taliban leader sat at a large table, papers spread out in front of him. He looked up, surprised, just as Ghost and Price stormed in. Before he could reach for his weapon, Ghost had him by the throat, slamming him against the wall.

"You're done," Ghost growled, his voice low and menacing.

The leader's eyes widened in fear, and Ghost could see the realization dawn on him. His grip tightened.

Jalebi appeared in the doorway, her eyes cold as she looked at the man. "I told you I'd fight, not dance."

With the leader subdued, Jalebi quickly led the team through a series of hallways to a hidden underground chamber. There, behind locked doors, they found the group of young girls, terrified but unharmed.

Price quickly moved to reassure them. "You're safe now. We're getting you out of here."

Jalebi watched from the side, her expression unreadable. As the girls were escorted out, Ghost walked over to her, his eyes studying her closely.

"You did good," he said, his voice gruff but genuine.

She raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on her lips. "Don't sound so surprised."

Ghost tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk hidden beneath his mask. "I never doubted you."

For the first time, Jalebi looked at him with a hint of something softer in her gaze, but it was gone in an instant as she turned away. "Come on," she said over her shoulder, "we've still got work to do."

As they exited the compound, the dawn light just beginning to break over the horizon, Ghost knew one thing for certain: Afghan Jalebi wasn't someone to be underestimated.

And in the war they were fighting, having an ally like her was priceless.

She led the team through the winding back streets. Their mission had been successfuln the Taliban leader was dead, the trafficked girls were safe, and the human trafficking network had been severely crippled. But now, things have been growing more dangerous. Jalebi was no longer just a hidden thorn in the Taliban's side. She was now their primary target.

Jalebi glanced over her shoulder at Ghost, who was walking a few steps behind her, his eyes always scanning the horizon for any sign of danger. Despite the mask, she could feel his gaze lingering on her longer than necessary. They had developed an unspoken understanding during the mission, a silent communication that required no words.

"We're almost there," Jalebi said quietly, nodding toward a small cluster of houses nestled against the hillside. "My home isn't far. We'll be safe there for the night, but not for long."

Price nodded, walking beside Ghost. "Good. We need to lay low before we plan the next move. But after this, the Taliban will be hunting you, Jalebi."

"I know," she replied, her voice calm, though a flicker of something, worry? determination? passed through her eyes. "That's why I'll help you get the girls out of here. But after that... there's no going back for me."

Ghost's voice, low and measured, cut through the quiet. "You're coming with us."

Jalebi stopped in her tracks, turning to face him. "What?"

"You heard me," Ghost said, stepping closer. "The Taliban won't stop hunting you. You can't stay here."

Jalebi squared her shoulders, a defiant spark lighting up her green eyes. "This is my home, Ghost. I've fought for it. I'm not running away."

"I'm not asking you to run," Ghost said, his tone firm but not unkind. "I'm telling you there's no fight left here. You've done enough. If you stay, you die. You come with us, we keep fighting, just on different ground."

She stared at him, searching his face, though it was hidden behind the skull mask. There was something in his voice, something that made her realize this wasn't just about the mission for him anymore.

After a long moment, she sighed and turned back to the path. "Let's get inside before we talk about anything else."

Jalebi's home was small but cosy, tucked away in the hills like a hidden gem. The interior was simple, traditional, with handwoven carpets lining the floors and colourful cushions arranged around a low table. She lit a lantern, casting a warm glow over the room, and motioned for the team to sit.

"You can stay here for the night," she said, moving around the room with quiet efficiency. "But we'll need to move quickly come morning. The Taliban will be searching for you - and me."

Soap leaned back against the wall, letting out a low whistle. "Hell of a place you've got here, Jalebi. Didn't expect a rebel like you to have such a quiet spot."

She smirked. "Looks can be deceiving. This house has been used to hide plenty of resistance fighters over the years. Now it's your turn."

Price nodded, looking over at Ghost. "We'll need to figure out extraction plans soon. It won't be long before they come knocking on every door in Kandahar looking for us."

Jalebi sat down, her gaze flicking to Ghost. "And what if I don't want to leave? What if I want to stay and keep fighting?"

Ghost stood silent for a moment, watching her. Then, without a word, he walked to the window, pulling the curtains aside slightly to peer out into the growing darkness. He spoke without turning around.

"If you stay, they'll come for you. And you won't be able to fight them alone, not after tonight. This mission made you a target."

She crossed her arms, her voice softer now. "I've always been a target."

"Not like this," Ghost said, finally turning to face her. "You're too valuable to them now. You know too much. They'll stop at nothing to silence you."

Jalebi's eyes softened, and for the first time, she allowed herself to feel the weight of everything that had happened. The years of fighting, watching friends and allies die, of resisting against overwhelming odds, it had all taken a toll. She had been strong for so long, but now, standing in front of Ghost, she felt the cracks forming.

"I'm not afraid to die," she whispered.

Ghost stepped closer, his voice low and intense. "But you don't have to. You've done enough here. You come with us, you can still fight, but in a way that keeps you alive."

There was something in his voice, something that pulled at her. She searched his eyes, the skull mask obscuring his face but not the emotion behind his words. Slowly, she nodded.

"Alright," she said softly. "I'll go with you."

The night passed quietly, but tension hung in the air like a storm waiting to break. Ghost stood watch by the window, his mind racing. There was something about Jalebi that had struck him deeply, more than he cared to admit. He had seen plenty of fighters in his time, but she was different. She wasn't just brave , she was fierce, intelligent, and beautiful in a way that made his chest tighten every time he looked at her.

As dawn approached, Jalebi came to stand beside him, her shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders to keep out the morning chill. She looked out over the hills, her eyes distant.

"You don't have to do this, you know," she said quietly. "You don't owe me anything."

Ghost didn't look at her. "I know. But I want to."

She turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "Why? Why do you care what happens to me?"

He finally looked at her, the mask hiding his face but not the intensity in his eyes. "Because I see the same thing in you that I see in myself. Someone who's been fighting too long, with too much to lose."

Jalebi's breath caught in her throat. For the first time, she saw past the mask, past the soldier, and into the man beneath. And it terrified her.

Before she could respond, there was a noise outside, distant shouts, the sound of trucks approaching.

"They're here," Price said, his voice tense.

Ghost's jaw tightened. "We need to move. Now."

The escape from Kandahar was chaotic. The Taliban were everywhere, searching every house, every alley, but Ghost and the team moved swiftly, with Jalebi leading them through hidden paths only she knew. By the time they reached the extraction point, the sun was high in the sky, and the roar of helicopters could be heard overhead.

As they boarded the chopper, Jalebi hesitated, turning back to look at the city one last time. It was her home, her battleground, and now she was leaving it behind.

Ghost was by her side in an instant, his hand on her arm. "We'll come back," he said softly. "But right now, you need to survive."

She nodded, allowing him to help her into the helicopter.

Days later, in England, Jalebi stood on the balcony of the safehouse they had taken her to, the cool breeze of the English countryside rustling her hair. She had left behind everything she knew, and yet, standing here, she didn't feel lost.

Ghost appeared beside her, silent as ever. For a long time, neither of them spoke. Finally, Jalebi broke the silence.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "For everything."

He turned to look at her, the mask still hiding his face, but his eyes softened as he spoke. "You don't have to thank me. You're the reason we made it out of there alive."

Jalebi smiled, a small, genuine smile, the first one he had seen from her since they arrived in England. "Maybe. But I wouldn't have made it without you."

There was a long pause before Ghost finally spoke, his voice low and rough. "I couldn't let you die."

Her heart raced as she took a step closer to him, her eyes searching his. "Why?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

For a moment, Ghost didn't answer. Then, in one swift movement, he reached up and removed his mask, revealing his face to her for the first time. His gaze was intense, filled with emotions he had kept buried for far too long.

Without a word, he leaned down and kissed her, a kiss that was filled with everything he couldn't say. It was fierce and tender, a moment of vulnerability in the midst of everything they had been through.

When they finally broke apart, Jalebi looked up at him, her eyes shining with something that felt like hope.

"Now," Ghost said, his voice soft but firm, "No one fights alone."

[ltash]

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Credits:

@yumethefrostypanda

Roxana Silva- Pinterest

I know last pic is Ai but I found it hot so I posted.

[ltash]

Ghost by @modernwarfare.vp Instagram

Virtual In game Photography

https://www.instagram.com/modernwarfare.vp?igsh=MXJqbDdjZGl6eXloeg==

[ltash]

Tease

When you first arrived at the SAS, you didn’t exactly fit in. Sure, you were good at your job, more than good, actually. You were sharp, skilled, and capable of holding your own in any training scenario. But there was one thing that set you apart from everyone else: you were funny. Mischievous, witty, and always up to something.

Most of the recruits on base were a bit too serious for your taste, but it didn’t take long for you to find your crowd. Gaz and Soap, always down for a good laugh, quickly became your partners in crime. They loved watching you stir the pot, especially when it came to Ghost. Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley had quickly become your favorite target.

Ghost was the complete opposite of you, stoic, silent, and intimidating. He didn’t joke, he didn’t laugh, and most of all, he didn’t like being the center of attention. Which, of course, made him the perfect person to mess with.

It started innocently enough, with small pranks here and there. You’d hide his gloves, switch his ammo with blanks, or throw in the occasional sarcastic comment. At first, Ghost ignored you, figuring you’d tire yourself out eventually. But you didn’t. You kept going, pushing his buttons little by little.

It was a lazy afternoon on base, and you were bored. Ghost sat at a table in the common area, going over some paperwork. You noticed he had a bag of chips by his side, casually snacking between signing documents. That’s when the idea struck you.

You’d ordered a special chip online, a chip so spicy, it came with a warning label. This wasn’t your average hot chip. This was the hot chip, the kind designed to make grown men cry. You slipped it out of your pocket and swapped it with one of the regular chips in Ghost’s bag while his back was turned.

Soap, who had been lounging nearby, noticed your devious grin and immediately perked up. “What are you up to now?”

You gave him a wink. “Just wait. You’re going to want to see this.”

Soap didn’t need any more convincing. He and Gaz both settled in nearby, watching the scene unfold like a couple of kids waiting for fireworks.

Ghost returned to his seat, oblivious to what you’d done. He resumed his paperwork, absentmindedly reaching for the chips. You held your breath, watching with barely contained excitement as his hand dug into the bag.

And then it happened.

Ghost picked up the chip, the one that was designed to feel like molten lava in your mouth, and casually tossed it into his mouth. For a second, everything seemed normal. He chewed, swallowed, and kept writing.

But then, you saw it.

The slow burn started to creep up his neck, his face barely visible under the mask. His hand froze mid-signature, and you could almost see the moment when the heat hit him. His eyes widened slightly, the only outward sign that something was wrong. But you knew. Oh, you knew.

Soap and Gaz were already covering their mouths, trying not to burst into laughter as Ghost’s hand slowly reached for his water bottle. He took a swig, but it didn’t help. You could see the redness creeping up his neck, his posture stiffening as he tried to maintain his composure.

“Something wrong, Lieutenant?” you called out, barely able to suppress your grin.

Ghost’s eyes snapped to you, and for a second, you thought you might have pushed it too far. His gaze was murderous, dark and furious beneath that mask. But he didn’t say a word. He just stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor as he stormed off toward the kitchen.

As soon as he was out of sight, Soap and Gaz exploded with laughter. Soap slapped the table, practically wheezing. “That was brilliant! I’ve never seen him move that fast!”

“I told you it’d be good,” you said, wiping a tear from your eye. “He’s never going to let this one go.”

“You do realize he’s going to get you back for this, right?” Gaz said, still chuckling.

You waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, I’m not scared of Ghost. What’s he going to do? Glare at me harder?”

Soap shook his head, grinning. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.”

But even as you laughed, a small part of you wondered if you’d really gone too far. Ghost didn’t seem like the type to let things slide. And you were right.

But you weren't done with him yet.

Ghost had been quiet since the hot chip prank, too quiet. He hadn’t said anything to you about it, hadn’t even acknowledged it happened. That should’ve been your first warning. But instead of being cautious, you doubled down.

You were walking across the base one day when you spotted a cockroach scurrying along the ground. An idea sparked instantly.

Without hesitation, you scooped up the wriggling bug and made a beeline for Ghost, who was at the training field. Soap and Gaz were hanging out nearby, and when they saw the look on your face, they knew something was about to go down.

“Oi, Trouble,” Soap called out, smirking. “What’ve you got there?”

You held up the cockroach proudly. “My new friend. I’m gonna introduce him to Ghost.”

Gaz shook his head, laughing. “You’re mad."

You scooped up the wriggling insect and made your way over to the field where Ghost was practising.

He didn’t notice you at first, he was too focused on reloading his weapon and prepping for his next drill. But that made it even better.

The element of surprise was on your side.

“Ghost!” you called, running toward him with the cockroach clutched in your hand.He glanced up, and for a split second, you swore his eyes narrowed behind that mask. It was like he could sense that you were up to no good.

“What?” he grunted, lowering his weapon.

You didn’t answer. you just kept running toward him, waving the cockroach in your hand like a trophy.

When you were close enough, you shoved your hand forward.

“Look what I found!”

Ghost took one look at the cockroach and stepped back, his broad form tensing.

“You better put that thing down.”

You blinked, surprised by his reaction. Was Ghost… afraid of bugs? No way.A wicked grin spread across your face.

“Aw, is the big, bad Ghost scared of a little cockroach?”

“Last warning,” he said, his voice dark and low, though you detected a hint of urgency. But instead of backing off, you doubled down.

“C’mon, it’s harmless!” you said, stepping closer and waving the bug in his direction.

Ghost took another step back, visibly uncomfortable now, and you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up inside you.

You’d never seen him like this. This was a man who could take down an enemy with his bare hands, yet here he was, backing away from a tiny insect.That’s when he turned and started walking away.

“Oh, no you don’t!” you laughed, breaking into a full sprint after him.What followed was a spectacle that had the entire base watching.

You chased Ghost all the way across the training field, waving the cockroach like a madwoman while he picked up the pace.

You could hear snickers and laughter from nearby soldiers as they watched the ridiculous chase unfold.

Ghost was practically power-walking now, trying to maintain his composure, but you kept pushing.

“Don’t be scared, it’s just a bug!”

“I swear to God,” Ghost growled, picking up speed, “if you don’t stop..”

But you didn’t stop. In fact, you doubled down, practically sprinting after him as you waved the cockroach over your head.

“Come on, Ghost, it’s not gonna hurt you!”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ghost managed to slip away into the locker room, leaving you behind, still laughing and clutching your sides.

But as you stood there, catching your breath, you didn’t notice the way Ghost’s eyes darkened behind the mask. You didn’t notice how Soap, who had watched the whole thing, gave him a nudge and a wicked grin.

For the next few days, you continued your usual antics. You were on top of the world, convinced that you had finally broken Ghost’s stone-cold exterior.

You expected retaliation at some point, but it never came. Ghost was quiet—too quiet. And if you had been paying attention, you might’ve realized that he wasn’t just ignoring you.

He was planning.

It was Soap who sealed your fate.“You really think Ghost’s gonna let that cockroach thing slide?”

Soap had asked one afternoon, leaning against a crate in the common area.

You grinned, shaking your head. “I think he’s too scared to come after me.”

Soap raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “That’s what you think, huh?”

You didn’t know it at the time, but Soap had already joined forces with Ghost. They were just waiting for the right moment.

It wasn’t until a week later that you realized just how wrong you were.

The day it happened was like any other. You had finished a long day of training and were looking forward to kicking back in your room for a while.

Your backpack was sitting neatly on your bed, right where you’d left it.But the moment you unzipped the bag, something moved.

You froze.

Slowly, cautiously, you opened the bag a little wider, and that’s when you saw it.

Bugs. So many bugs. Spiders, cockroaches, beetles, all squirming and crawling over each other inside your bag.

Your heart leapt into your throat, and before you knew what was happening, a scream ripped from your lungs.

“Holy sh—” You stumbled backward, dropping the bag as you frantically tried to shake off the sensation that the bugs were crawling all over you.

Outside your room, you heard footsteps and then, laughter. Deep, booming laughter.

Ghost’s laughter. You whipped around just in time to see Ghost and Soap standing in your doorway, both of them grinning behind their masks.

Soap was practically doubled over with laughter, wiping tears from his eyes, while Ghost simply stood there, arms crossed, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“You should’ve seen your face,” Soap gasped between fits of laughter.

You glared at them both, still shaken by the sight of the bugs.

“You put bugs in my bag?!”

Ghost gave a slow, satisfied nod.“Consider it payback.”

“For what?!” you exclaimed, though you knew exactly what.

“For the cockroach,” Ghost said simply. “And the chip. And every other stupid thing you’ve done.”

You groaned, running a hand through your hair as you tried to collect yourself. “That was disgusting.”

Ghost’s eyes gleamed with amusement as he took a step closer, leaning down just enough to be at eye level with you. “Next time, Trouble, think twice before messing with me.”

You stared up at him, your heart still pounding from the adrenaline, but you couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips.

“This isn’t over, Lieutenant.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” he said, his voice low and threatening in a way that sent a chill down your spine.

Soap gave you a final wink before the two of them turned and walked away, leaving you alone with your bug-infested backpack and the knowledge that, for once, Ghost had won this round.

But you weren’t about to let that stand for long.

Not by a long shot.

[ltash]

Poked

You had barely been in the SAS for a week, and already, you were causing a stir. At first, people underestimated you. You were smaller than most, a little too pretty for the rough world of special forces. But you had grit. And, more importantly, you had a wicked sense of humour.

You’d always had a sharp tongue and a reckless streak, but messing with Ghost, well, that was a whole different game. The moment you stepped into the SAS, it was clear you weren’t like the others. Sure, you were skilled, maybe even more so than a few of your male counterparts, but it wasn’t your combat abilities that made you stand out.

It was your mouth. More specifically, how you used it to get under Ghost’s skin.

Lieutenant Ghost, the infamous, towering man whose reputation made even the toughest soldiers stay in line. He was cold, distant, and never let anyone get too close. But you couldn’t resist poking the bear. You weren’t afraid of him, in fact, you found his brooding nature kind of amusing.

So, naturally, you started catcalling him.

At first, it was subtle. You weren’t dumb, you knew Ghost wasn’t someone to mess with lightly. But something about the way he carried himself, all silent and brooding, just begged you to poke at him. You were like a kid pulling the tail of a lion, waiting to see if it would roar.

"Looking sharp today, Lieutenant!" you'd call out across the training yard, watching as Ghost’s shoulders tensed under his tactical gear. He’d never acknowledge it, at least not at first, but you always knew he heard.

It began as a harmless joke. You spotted him across the base one day, walking with that signature, menacing swagger, and you couldn’t help yourself.

"Looking good, Lieutenant!" you called out, smirking when he stiffened, stopping mid-stride to look over his shoulder at you. "Who knew you could fill out that uniform so well?"

The other soldiers who heard you quickly turned away, not wanting to get involved, but you just grinned wider. Ghost gave you a look, one that said *don’t even think about it, but you could see the flicker of confusion in his eyes. No one had ever talked to him like that.

That only encouraged you more.

Over the next few days, you found every opportunity to throw playful comments his way. Whenever Ghost passed by, you’d lean against the wall, give him an exaggerated once-over, and whistle. "Hey, Ghost! If you ever get tired of being a killing machine, modeling could be your next gig!"

His reaction was always the same, a deep, rumbling growl under his breath and a piercing glare. But the more you did it, the more you noticed the subtle changes in him. His shoulders would tense before you even said anything, as if he was bracing himself for whatever you’d throw his way.

And while you loved riling him up, there was something else beneath the teasing. You weren’t just messing with him for fun, you were intrigued by him. The way he moved, the quiet power he exuded, the way his presence seemed to fill a room without him even trying. There was something about him that made your heart race in a way you didn’t quite understand.

Then, you got bolder. During drills, you’d deliberately station yourself near him, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you "complimented" him.

"Hey, Ghost, ever think of doing a calendar shoot? You know, something for the ladies, maybe a topless spread for June?”

You swore you saw his hand tighten around his gun, but he never said anything. Not yet.

The others found it funny, at least for a while. Some of the younger recruits would stifle their laughs when you catcalled him, while the veterans gave you the side-eye, clearly wondering if you’d lost your mind. Soap warned you a few times, telling you in that thick Scottish accent, “Ghost’s not the kind of bloke you want to push too far, lass.”

But you? You were fearless. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself. The more you poked, the more you could feel the tension building between you and Ghost. Every snarky comment, every playful whistle, it was like stretching a rubber band tighter and tighter. You were waiting to see when it would snap.

One day, you pushed it a little too far.

Ghost was at the shooting range, going through his drills, when you wandered over. You leaned against the fence, watching him in action. You couldn’t deny how impressive he was, his movements precise, his focus unbreakable. But you weren’t about to let that stop you from having your fun.

“Damn, Ghost, you’re really showing off today,” you called, your voice carrying over the sound of gunfire.

He didn’t acknowledge you, but you saw his jaw tighten beneath the mask. You smirked, pushing off the fence and walking toward him, your steps deliberately slow, knowing he could hear you coming.

When you got close enough, you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “Bet you get all the ladies with that aim.”

This time, he paused, lowering his weapon and turning to face you. His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto yours. For a moment, you felt a flicker of nervousness—but you shoved it down. You weren’t about to back off now.

"You’ve been having fun, haven’t you?" he said, his voice low and gravelly. There was no humor in it, but there was something else. Something darker. Something that made the air around you feel suddenly thick.

"Just a little bit," you replied with a grin, though your heart was pounding harder than you’d like to admit.

Ghost stepped closer, and for the first time, you realized just how much bigger he was compared to you. He towered over you, his broad shoulders casting a shadow. But you refused to back down, even as he closed the distance between you.

"You think it’s cute, don’t you?" he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he leaned down, his face inches from yours. "Messing with me."

Your smirk faltered slightly, but you forced yourself to hold his gaze. “Maybe I do.”

He chuckled, low and dangerous, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But there’s only so far you can push before I push back."

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. You swallowed, your heart now pounding in your chest. You had been playing with fire, and for the first time, you wondered if maybe you were about to get burned.

But instead of stepping away, you lifted your chin, your voice steady despite the way your pulse raced. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Ghost’s eyes darkened, and before you knew what was happening, he moved even closer, backing you up until you were pressed against the wall of the range. His hands planted themselves on either side of your head, trapping you there. The closeness of his body was overwhelming, his scent, leather, smoke, something undeniably masculine, filling your senses.

“You should be,” he whispered, his voice so low it sent a thrill through your body.

Your breath hitched as his gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there for a second too long. The tension between you was palpable now, electric, and suddenly your teasing didn’t feel so harmless anymore. It felt dangerous. Intense.

But instead of retreating, you felt a surge of boldness. “Or maybe you’re the one who’s scared.”

His eyes snapped back to yours, and for a split second, something flashed in them, something raw, something primal. And then, before you could say another word, he moved.

Ghost stared at you for a long moment, the tension between you simmering like a live wire. You could feel the weight of his gaze, dark and dangerous, but just when you thought he might do something, close the gap again, say something that would send a shiver down your spine, he did the opposite. He stepped back.

You blinked in surprise as he straightened, his eyes never leaving yours, but something in his expression had shifted. It wasn’t defeat, but it wasn’t victory either. It was calculated. Measured. His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smirk, but close enough to make your stomach flip.

Then, without another word, Ghost turned on his heel and walked away, his broad back retreating, leaving you pressed against the wall, heart still hammering in your chest.

For a second, you thought you’d won, that maybe you’d finally gotten under his skin enough to make him back off. But as you watched him go, that strange, unsettling feeling lingered. Something about the way he left, the way he didn’t retaliate, didn’t push back immediately, left you on edge. He wasn’t done.

No, this wasn’t over.

It came to a head one day during a routine briefing. You were sitting in the back of the room, half-listening to the mission plan, your eyes occasionally drifting over to Ghost, who stood at the front, arms crossed over his chest, silent as ever.

That’s when you went too far.

As Captain Price wrapped up the details, you leaned back in your chair and called out, loud enough for everyone to hear, “So, Ghost, when are you going to take me out to dinner? Or are you afraid I’ll outshine you?”

The room went dead silent. Every pair of eyes snapped to you, then to Ghost, waiting to see what would happen. Price’s eyebrows shot up, but he wisely said nothing, though you could tell he was biting back a smile. Even Soap looked a little pale, as if he was bracing himself for the fallout.

Ghost didn’t react at first. He just stood there, his face hidden behind his mask, completely unreadable. But you noticed the way his fingers twitched, just a little. His entire body seemed to go still, as if he was debating whether to address your latest insult or let it slide like he had with all the others.

For a moment, you thought maybe you’d gotten away with it. Maybe you’d gone too far, but he’d let it go.

Then, he spoke.

"Stay after the briefing," he said, his voice low and calm, but there was something in it, something dark that sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed, your bravado faltering just a bit. But you were committed now. You couldn’t back down in front of everyone. So, you flashed a cocky grin and shrugged. “Sure thing, Lieutenant.”

The briefing wrapped up, and the room emptied out, the others giving you quick glances on their way out, as if they were watching someone about to walk into the lion’s den. Even Soap gave you a sympathetic look before slipping through the door.

And then it was just you and Ghost.

The door clicked shut behind the last soldier, leaving the two of you in the dimly lit room. Ghost hadn’t moved from his spot at the front, his eyes still fixed on you. You could feel the weight of his stare, heavy and unrelenting, as if he was sizing you up, deciding exactly what to do with you.

You stood up slowly, trying to maintain your usual confidence. “So, what’s this about, Ghost? Gonna tell me off for embarrassing you in front of the boys?”

He didn’t say a word. Just stood there, his gaze never leaving yours. The silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. You felt your pulse quicken, but you forced yourself to stay calm.

Finally, he moved.

In two strides, he closed the distance between you, towering over you with that imposing frame. He didn’t touch you, but he didn’t have to. His presence alone was enough to make you feel like you were pinned to the spot.

“You’ve been having fun, haven’t you?” he said, his voice low, almost a growl.

You swallowed hard, your bravado crumbling slightly under the intensity of his gaze. But you weren’t about to let him see you back down. “Maybe I have. Didn’t think you minded.”

Ghost tilted his head, studying you. “Is that what you think?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, he took another step closer, backing you up against the wall. His hands planted themselves on either side of you, trapping you in place. The closeness of him was overwhelming, his scent, the sheer heat radiating off his body, the way his eyes bore into yours, dark and unreadable.

“You’ve been running your mouth,” he said quietly, his voice so low it sent a thrill through your body. “And now you’re going to see what happens when you push me too far.”

Your heart raced, but instead of fear, you felt something else. Something hot and electric buzzing just beneath your skin. This was what you had wanted, wasn’t it? To push him, to see how far you could go before he snapped. And now, here you were, cornered by the very man you’d been teasing, his breath warm against your face, his presence swallowing you whole.

You tilted your chin up, your voice steady even though your pulse was thundering in your ears. “What are you gonna do, Lieutenant? Scare me off?”

He chuckled, low and dangerous, and the sound made your stomach flip. “No. I don’t think fear’s what you want from me.”

Your breath hitched as his gloved hand came up, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. His touch was surprisingly gentle, but the intensity in his eyes was anything but. You could feel the heat rolling off him in waves, the raw power behind his calm demeanor.

You could feel the heat radiating off him, the solidity of his muscles against yours, the firmness of his chest against your soft curves. He leaned in, his forehead nearly touching yours, his breath hot on your skin.

His voice was a low, dangerous murmur, his gaze locking with yours with an intensity that made your pulse race. "What you want," he said, his voice a rough whisper in your ear, "is for me to put you in your place."

He grabbed you by your hairs, a seductive whimper escaping your lips as he tilted your head to expose your throat.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against the sensitive flesh of your throat, sending a shiver through you. "You think you're so damn cocky," he murmured against your skin. "But you've been asking for this for a long time, haven't you?"

You completely melted in his hands, done and dusted.

Ghost could feel you surrendering to him, the tension leaving your body as you melted against him. A slow, satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He liked seeing you like this, all defiant bravado gone, replaced by raw, unguarded need.

He pulled your hair a little tighter, his free hand coming to rest on your hip, pulling your body even closer, making sure you could feel every inch of him pressed against you.

He chuckled softly at the sound you made, his eyes flicking down to your parted lips. God, you looked so perfect like this, all soft and pliant, your body pressed against his, the sound of your ragged breaths filling the air.

He tightened his grip on your hair, tilting your head back further, exposing more of your neck. "You look damn good like this," he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your flesh. "All mine."

And then, before you could think, before you could say another word, he closed the gap between you.

His lips crashed against yours, fierce and unrelenting, stealing the breath from your lungs. You gasped, your hands instinctively reaching for his chest, clutching at his shirt as you pulled him closer. The kiss was wild, a mix of frustration and pent-up desire, everything you’d been pushing him toward finally snapping.

Ghost’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you against him, his touch possessive and firm. You moaned into his mouth, the sheer intensity of it all sending a jolt of heat through your entire body. It was overwhelming, the way he kissed you, like he’d been holding back for too long, and now that the dam had broken, there was no going back.

When he finally pulled back, you were both breathing hard, your foreheads resting together. His eyes were darker than ever, filled with something raw and primal.

“I warned you,” he whispered, his voice rough, “but you didn’t listen.”

Your heart was still pounding, but a slow smile spread across your lips. “Maybe I just wanted to see what would happen.”

Ghost chuckled again, a low, dangerous sound. “Now you know.”

But as his lips found yours again, slower this time, more deliberate, you realized that this was just the beginning.

[ltash]

Pest Control 141

Taskforcexfemalereader

You were ready for anything—armed combat, hostile extractions, stealth missions. But what Ghost just called you for? Well, it wasn’t in the job description.

“Oi, get to the common area,” Ghost’s voice crackled through your comms. “We’ve got a... situation.”

You rush in, ready to face some unknown terror. Turns out, the "situation" is an eight-legged monstrosity clinging to the wall, looking like it’s planning world domination. Ghost is standing in the corner, arms crossed, keeping a good six-foot distance between him and the spider.

“You serious?” you say, trying not to laugh. “Ghost, the guy who can take down a platoon single-handed, is afraid of a little spider?”

“It’s not little. Look at the size of it!” Ghost says, nodding toward the creature. It’s huge. You’ll give him that. But still, the irony is too rich to ignore.

“Fine,” you sigh, grabbing a broom like a true warrior. “I’ll take care of it. Stay back, tough guy.”

You inch closer, broom in hand, ready for the mission. Ghost watches closely, clearly not trusting the spider to stay put. With the grace of a seasoned soldier, you raise the broom and swipe—only to miss entirely. Instead of falling to the floor, the spider launches itself… straight onto Ghost’s chest.

The next few seconds are pure chaos.

Ghost lets out a noise you’d never expect from him—half a growl, half a yelp. His hands flail as he tries to bat the spider away, but it’s too late. The thing is clinging to him like a special ops agent on a stealth mission.

“Get it off! Get it off me!” Ghost shouts, running around like he’s under enemy fire.

“Hold still!” you yell, trying to catch up to him with the broom.

“Hold still?!” Ghost snaps, dodging your first broom swing as you chase him around the room like a scene from a slapstick comedy.

In the middle of the commotion, Soap walks in, immediately bursting into laughter. “What the hell is going on in here?”

You barely glance at him, still in hot pursuit of Ghost. “Spider. On Ghost. Stand clear!”

“On Ghost?” Soap is doubled over now, laughing so hard he’s struggling to breathe.

Ghost is still running in circles, arms flailing. “For the love of—just hit it already!”

You aim another swing at Ghost’s chest, but he dodges, and the broom whacks him in the shoulder instead.

“That’s me, you bloody idiot!” he shouts.

“Stop moving, and I’ll hit the spider, not you!”

In one desperate move, Ghost trips over the couch, falls backward, and lands flat on the floor, the spider still crawling around like it owns him.

“Now’s your chance!” Soap shouts, cheering you on like it’s a championship match.

You raise the broom like a gladiator about to strike the final blow and bring it down. This time, you hit the target. The spider goes flying across the room, landing on the window with a satisfying *splat*.

Ghost lies on the floor, panting. “You hit me at least three times, you know that?”

“Yeah, but I got the spider, didn’t I?” you grin, offering a hand to help him up.

He swats it away, muttering, “I’d rather face a whole squad of enemies than deal with that thing again.”

Soap is practically on the floor laughing at this point, tears streaming down his face. “Oh, mate, this is the best day of my life. Ghost, scared of a little spider!”

Ghost pulls himself up, glaring at you both. “Say one more word about this, and I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Soap wipes a tear away. “Noted. But I’m definitely telling Price.”

You shake your head, trying to contain your laughter as Ghost storms out. Mission accomplished, but you’ll never let him live this one down.

[ltash]

Eating Habits

List of headcannons when it comes to his eating habits, according to my opinion.

1. Simple, no-fuss meals: Ghost prefers basic, hearty meals with minimal flair. Things like grilled chicken, steak, or a sandwich. He's more about sustenance than flavour.

2. Protein-heavy diet: He prioritizes high-protein meals to keep up his strength. Lean meats, eggs, and protein shakes are staples in his diet.

3. Tea over everything: Ghost drinks tea like it’s water. He prefers English Breakfast Tea, and it's often the first thing he reaches for in the morning.

4. On-the-go eater: He’s used to grabbing quick meals between missions or even eating on the move. Protein bars, jerky, or simple rations are common in his kit.

5. Cold baked beans from the tin: When he’s in the field or in a rush, Ghost has no problem cracking open a tin of baked beans and eating them cold. It’s quick, easy, and gets the job done.

6. Avoids processed junk: While he doesn’t care for gourmet meals, he steers clear of overly processed or junk food. He sees food as fuel and tends to avoid anything that might make him feel sluggish.

7. Coffee drinker: Despite his love for tea, Ghost also has a soft spot for a strong cup of coffee, especially black coffee. It provides a calming moment in the chaos of his life.

8. Rare indulgence in spicy food: Every once in a while, Ghost enjoys a spicy kick in his meals, especially when he can find a good chilli or hot sauce.

9. No-nonsense about breakfast: Breakfast for Ghost is usually something quick and effective, like oatmeal with nuts, scrambled eggs, or even cold baked beans straight from the tin if he's on the go.

10. Prefers to eat alone: He’s not one for big social meals. Ghost often eats in solitude, especially when in the field or at the base. It gives him a moment to think and decompress.

11. Hydration is key: He drinks plenty of water, especially during missions. Staying hydrated is essential, and he’s always got a water bottle nearby.

12. Doesn't like sweets: Ghost isn’t into sugary foods or desserts. If offered, he’ll decline politely or simply pass them on to someone else.

13. MRE master: Having spent so much time in the field, he’s developed a knack for making MREs (Meals Ready to Eat) more palatable. He knows how to combine ingredients to make them taste a bit better than the standard fare.

15. Doesn’t drink alcohol often: Ghost rarely drinks, preferring to stay sharp. But when he does, it’s a stiff whiskey, neat, no mixers, no nonsense.

14. Rare moments of comfort food: Every now and then, when he’s feeling nostalgic or off-duty, he might indulge in something comforting, like a hearty shepherd’s pie, fish and chips, or even a hot cuppa with biscuits.

16. Highly disciplined portions : Ghost eats in strict portions, never over-indulging, knowing that he needs to stay in top physical condition for his missions.

[ltash]

In wolf's disguise

Ghost shares you with his twin brother

SimonGhostRileyxfemalereader 6k words

Warning: 18+, MDNI, smut, nonCon, dubCon, p in v, sexual theme, threesome.

You’d always thought working in the SAS would be intense, but you hadn’t expected it to be this intense. The moment you were appointed to the administration team, things had been overwhelming. The high-paced environment, the constant movement of soldiers, the silent intensity that seemed to hang in the air, it all took some getting used to. But the strangest part was how your life seemed to have shifted the day you caught the attention of Lieutenant Ghost.

Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley, as he was formally known, had a reputation that preceded him. Stoic, quiet, and always masked behind that skull balaclava that made his very presence feel like the room temperature had dropped. You’d heard stories of his calm, unflinching demeanour in even the most dangerous situations. Ghost was the kind of man people didn’t mess with.

And yet, ever since you started, you noticed his eyes on you. Watching. Protecting.

At first, you thought it was just in your head, but it became more evident with time. He seemed to appear when things got tough, when you had trouble with a task, or when someone looked a little too long at you. His silent, looming presence became a sort of shield. It made you feel... safe, even though you hardly knew him. You weren’t sure what to make of it.

Things remained quiet for a while, that is, until you met Ghost’s twin brother.

Lieutenant Wolf Riley, Simon's identical twin, had an uncanny resemblance to him, down to the sharp features, the piercing eyes, and the intimidating aura. However, Wolf didn’t wear the infamous skull mask, and that wasn’t the only difference. Wolf’s physique was even more pronounced than Simon’s. He was taller, broader, and carried an air of arrogant confidence that set him apart. Where Simon was silent and mysterious, Wolf was loud and boisterous. And where Simon seemed to keep his distance, Wolf had no qualms about getting too close.

“Hey there,” Wolf had said the first time he cornered you, his voice a silky murmur that sent chills down your spine. “I’m Simon’s brother. Wolf. And you must be the new girl who’s caught everyone’s attention.”

He had said it with a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. It was predatory, in a way. You’d felt uncomfortable immediately, but you didn’t want to be rude.

“Nice to meet you,” you’d responded politely, trying to inch away without making it obvious.

From that day on, Wolf made it his mission to seek you out. Wherever you were, he wasn’t far behind, his flirtatious comments, the way his eyes lingered on you just a second too long, the subtle touches that made your skin crawl. It was no secret that Wolf had a reputation with women. He was a notorious playboy, always seen with a different woman, and it wasn’t hard to imagine the trail of broken hearts and damaged souls he’d left behind. The problem was, he had his eye on you now, and it was only a matter of time before he made his move.

Ghost seemed to notice almost immediately. You hadn’t realized it at first, but the more Wolf pursued you, the more protective Ghost became. He’d show up unexpectedly when Wolf was around, his presence like a silent barrier between the two of you.

“You alright?” Ghost would ask in that deep, gravelly voice of his, though his eyes spoke more than his words.

“Yeah,” you’d reply, grateful for his intervention but unsure of how to express it.

One evening, after you’d finished a long day of administrative work, you noticed Wolf lingering in the hallway outside your office. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, with a cocky smile on his lips as you approached.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted, his eyes sweeping over you in a way that made your skin crawl.

You forced a polite smile, trying to walk past him, but he stepped in your way, his arm outstretched to block your path.

“Where’s the rush? We haven’t had the chance to really... get to know each other.” His voice was slick with implication.

“I’m just tired,” you mumbled, trying to push past him. “I need to get back to my room.”

But Wolf didn’t move. His expression darkened as his fingers grazed your arm. “Come on, don’t be like that. You’re always running off. I’m starting to think you’re avoiding me.”

Panic began to rise in your chest. Wolf wasn’t like the other soldiers, he had a way of making you feel trapped, as if there was no escape. Just as you began to feel genuinely afraid, a cold voice cut through the tension.

“Back off, Wolf.”

Ghost appeared seemingly out of nowhere, his towering form casting a shadow over the two of you. His presence was like a wall between you and the growing danger. Wolf’s hand dropped from your arm as he turned to face his brother, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Well, if it isn’t the knight in shining armour,” Wolf mocked, though there was a hint of irritation in his tone. “Come to save the damsel in distress?”

Ghost’s eyes were fixed on his brother, the intensity of his gaze hidden behind the skull mask but evident in the way he held himself. “I said, back off,” he repeated, his voice low and threatening.

Wolf raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. There is no need to get all worked up, Simon. I was just talking.”

Ghost didn’t move until Wolf had walked away, the smirk never leaving his face. Once he was gone, Ghost turned to you, his expression softening, though it was hard to tell behind the mask.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, though your hands were trembling slightly. “Yeah... thank you.”

Ghost said nothing more, but you could feel the weight of his silent protection. From that moment on, you knew he wasn’t just watching over you out of duty. It was something more.

Weeks passed, and despite Ghost’s constant vigilance, Wolf’s interest in you only grew. He became more possessive, more intense, and more reckless with his advances. You started locking your door at night, terrified that one day he’d push too far.

And then, one night, he did.

It was late, the base was quiet, and you were in your room trying to unwind after a long day. Suddenly, there was a loud banging on your door. Your heart skipped a beat as you froze, hoping it was just someone making a mistake. But the banging continued, louder this time.

“Open up bitch!” Wolf’s slurred voice came from the other side. “I know you’re in there!”

Panic surged through you. He was drunk. You didn’t know what he was capable of when he was like this.

You rushed to lock the door, your hands shaking as you tried to secure the latch. But just as you turned the lock, Wolf slammed his body against the door, breaking it open. He stumbled inside, his eyes wild and unfocused.

“There you are,” he slurred, a twisted smile on his face. “You’ve been hiding from me, haven’t you?”

You backed away, your heart racing in your chest. “Wolf, get out.”

But he didn’t listen. He took a step toward you, and then another, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous hunger. “Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured, reaching for you. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Just as his hand brushed your arm, the door slammed open again, this time with a force that rattled the walls. Ghost stood in the doorway, his mask in place, but the rage radiating off of him was palpable.

“Get your hands off her,” Ghost growled, his voice like thunder.

Wolf turned to face him, his expression shifting from drunken lust to irritated defiance. “What’s the matter, Simon? Can’t let me have a little fun?”

Ghost moved faster than you’d ever seen him move, grabbing Wolf by the collar and shoving him against the wall. The two brothers locked eyes, the air thick with tension.

“She’s not yours to touch,” Ghost snarled, his voice deadly.

Wolf laughed, though it was clear he was taken off guard by Ghost’s aggression. “You really think she’ll choose you over me?” he taunted, though his voice was weaker now. “You’re just the silent protector. I’m the one she wants.”

Ghost leaned in closer, his voice a low growl. “If you come near her again, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

For the first time, Wolf looked genuinely intimidated. He shoved Ghost off him with a snarl, straightening his jacket. “Fine. Have it your way, Simon. But don’t think this is over.”

Wolf stormed out of the room, leaving you trembling in the aftermath. Ghost turned to you, his eyes softening behind the mask as he approached carefully, his hand reaching out to touch your shoulder.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

You nodded, though tears pricked at your eyes. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

The commonroom hummed of the overhead lights barely cutting through the silence. Ghost sat at a table in the corner, the steam from his coffee swirling in the air as he took a slow, deliberate sip. His mind was on you, as it often had been lately, his thoughts tangled with a protective instinct that had grown sharper in recent days. Wolf, his twin brother, had been lurking around more often, his intentions clear, and Ghost could feel the tension brewing them.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Wolf sauntered in, his usual swagger evident in every step. Ghost didn’t need to look up to know it was him. The air changed when Wolf entered a room, like a storm about to break.

“What do you want now, mutt?” Ghost grumbled, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice.

Wolf slid into the chair next to him, too close for comfort, with a smirk plastered on his face. His presence felt invasive, like a shadow creeping in where it didn’t belong.

“I have something for you that you can not deny.” Wolf’s voice was a low drawl, dripping with arrogance.

Ghost’s eyes finally flicked up, narrowing as he studied his brother’s face. There was always some twisted game in Wolf’s words, and Ghost had no patience for it today.

“And what might that be?” Ghost asked dryly, his voice laced with irritation.

“You know she’s mine,” Wolf replied, leaning back casually, as if he were discussing the weather.

Ghost’s expression hardened instantly. He knew exactly who Wolf was referring to, you. The thought of Wolf claiming you, speaking about you like you were his possession, sent a wave of anger through him. He turned his body slightly, squaring his shoulders as he faced Wolf directly, his eyes dark beneath his mask.

“She is not yours,” Ghost growled in a low, dangerous tone, his voice barely above a whisper. “And you're making a mistake thinking otherwise.”

Wolf chuckled softly, a smug smile tugging at his lips. He wasn’t intimidated by Ghost’s cold demeanor. In fact, he thrived on pushing his brother’s buttons.

“Look, Ghost. She is mine. She takes my gifts. And right now, she’s wearing red lingerie that I gifted to her,” Wolf said with a dark glint in his eyes.

Ghost froze. His grip tightened around his coffee mug, his knuckles turning white as his mind processed the words. Red lingerie? The image of you, innocent and kind, accepting something so intimate from Wolf made his blood boil. He could barely contain his jealousy and disgust at the thought.

“You gave her what?” Ghost hissed through clenched teeth, the anger evident in every syllable. His hand shook slightly as he forced himself to stay seated.

“I have a deal for you,” Wolf continued, ignoring the fury radiating from his brother.

Ghost narrowed his eyes, leaning back in his chair, his body tense as he spoke. “What kind of deal?”

Wolf’s grin widened, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “She’s a virgin, Simon. We share her tonight.”

The words hung in the air like a toxic cloud. Ghost’s eyes widened, disbelief and disgust swirling within him. The idea of sharing you—you—with his twisted brother - was so repulsive that it nearly made him lunge across the table. His fists clenched tightly as he forced himself to breathe, trying to keep control.

“Absolutely not,” Ghost spat, his voice low and threatening. “She is not a piece of property to be shared. We will not be doing that.”

Wolf’s smirk didn’t falter, his eyes gleaming with amusement as if he enjoyed watching Ghost struggle with his emotions. “We will… I will make you do that. You know what I can do, Simon. She’s mine. You can ask her, and she will do anything for me. Even lose her virginity to you.”

Ghost’s jaw clenched painfully as his brother continued, pushing and taunting. He knew Wolf was a manipulative bastard, but this was beyond anything he could have imagined. The thought of you being coerced into something so twisted made his stomach churn.

“I don’t care what she’d do for you,” Ghost growled, his voice barely controlled. “And I definitely don’t believe she’d want to share herself like that. You need to back off, Wolf. She’s not yours, and she never will be.”

“She is,” Wolf insisted, his voice dark and laced with certainty. “She didn’t tell you, did she? She’s my little vixen. But she’s still untouched. I want you to claim her first, Simon. After all, you’re my dear brother. And you know I’m kind of… rough.”

Ghost’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind spinning with the sickening implications. This was a game to Wolf, some twisted, perverse fantasy that he wanted to drag Ghost into. But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Not with you.

“No,” Ghost said firmly, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. “I won’t do it. Even if she’s untouched, she’s not some prize to be claimed. She’s a person, and I won’t treat her like some object for your sick entertainment.”

Wolf’s grin faltered for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he leaned in closer. “And what if she agrees?”

Ghost stared at him, his stomach dropping. Could you? Would you?

“I need to talk to her first,” Ghost said slowly, his voice strained with conflicting emotions. He didn’t believe for a second that you’d willingly agree to something like this, but if Wolf had manipulated you…

Wolf’s smirk returned, a victorious gleam in his eyes. “You’ll see, Simon. She’ll agree. And tonight, we’ll go to her room, and she’ll submit.”

Ghost stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor as his temper flared. He had never wanted to punch his brother more than he did in that moment. “Why are you so hell-bent on this?” he snapped. “Can’t you see how messed up this is? You’re trying to manipulate us both, and I won’t let you get your way.”

Wolf stood too, looming over Ghost with that same twisted smile. “You will, Simon. And so will she. It’s only a matter of time.” He paused, his voice lowering to a dark, mocking tone. “She wants you, you know. She just won’t admit it. She’s been parading around in those skimpy clothes, trying to get your attention.”

Ghost’s breathing became ragged as he fought to control his anger. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of Wolf’s mouth. “You can’t make us do this,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “And you can’t treat her like a piece of meat. She’s a person, damn it.”

Wolf’s laughter was dark and unsettling. “She’ll agree, Simon. She’s cheating on me in her heart, so I’ll let her get laid by my own brother. Consider it a twisted little gift.”

Ghost felt his stomach twist. He couldn’t stand the way Wolf was talking about you, like you were some toy to be passed around. But more than anything, he hated the nagging fear that maybe, just maybe, Wolf was right about how you felt.

Wolf’s voice turned cold as he stepped toward the door. “Tonight, Simon. You’ll see.”

And with that, he left, the door closing with a heavy thud, leaving Ghost alone with the storm of emotions raging inside him.

Ghost stood outside your door, his heart pounding in his chest. The quiet knock had shattered the silence of the night, but the seconds dragged on, making him wonder if you were awake. His mind swirled with doubts and conflicted thoughts. Was this the right thing to do?

Finally, the lock clicked, and the door creaked open. There you stood, dressed in a long black silk nightgown, the fabric clinging to your body in a way that made Ghost’s heart race even faster.

"Can I come in?" he asked, his voice rough with emotion.

You nodded silently, stepping aside to let him enter. The air between you was thick with tension, the night pressing in on both of you. Ghost walked in, his eyes unwilling to leave yours, but every fiber of him was aware of how the silk moved against your skin. He swallowed hard, trying to focus.

"You want to talk about something?" you asked, your voice soft, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," Ghost replied, his voice gravelly. "There’s something I need to ask you."

"Ask away."

He hesitated, the question weighing heavily on him. "Wolf told me something... about you."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

Ghost’s voice lowered, almost a whisper. "He said you and him were intimate... that you’re not a virgin."

Your eyes widened in shock, anger flashing across your face. "What? I don’t even know him like that. No, that’s not true."

Ghost stared at you, relief flooding through him. He could see the sincerity in your eyes. "You don’t?" he asked, almost disbelieving.

"No, I don’t," you replied firmly.

His mind raced. Why would Wolf lie about something like this? He paced the room, frustration and confusion mixing with relief.

"He told me that if you agreed to... be with us, together..." Ghost struggled with the words, his voice breaking. "He asked me to claim you with him."

Your shock was palpable. "What the hell? Is he serious? How could he even think like that?"

"I don’t know," Ghost growled, his expression darkening. "It’s twisted. Sick."

He stepped closer to you, mere inches away now. His voice was barely a whisper. "I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to share you. Especially not with him."

As if on cue, a knock sounded at the door, sharp and taunting. Ghost froze, dread creeping up his spine.

"Who is it?" he called out, his voice tense.

"Who do you think, bro?" came the smug voice from the other side. Wolf.

Ghost clenched his fists, his anger rising. "What do you want?"

"I heard you talking," Wolf said, sounding amused. "I thought you would’ve started by now."

Ghost growled, barely keeping his composure. "She doesn’t want this. It’s not happening."

There was a pause before Wolf spoke again, this time with more irritation. "Don’t be shy, Simon. I know you want her."

Ghost’s temper snapped. "I’m not sharing her. And she doesn’t want you either."

"Open the door," Wolf ordered, his tone darkening.

For a long moment, Ghost hesitated, torn between his desire to protect you and his anger at his brother. Finally, with a low growl, he unlocked the door.

Wolf stepped into the room, his eyes gleaming with malice and desire. "Well, well," he smirked, "looks like we’re ready to get started."

Ghost’s body tensed, his fists clenching. "We’re not doing this," he said, voice low and dangerous.

"Let’s not pretend," Wolf cut him off. "You want her. You’ve always wanted her. And she wants us both."

Wolf’s eyes flicked toward you, his gaze dark and predatory. "Right, princess?"

You moved toward the door, but Wolf’s hand shot out, gripping your arm with a force that made you wince.

"Where do you think you’re going?" he sneered, pulling you toward him.

Ghost’s anger flared. "Let go of her!" he demanded, stepping forward.

"Not until she agrees to play along," Wolf replied, his grip tightening. He looked into your eyes, a sinister smile curling his lips. "Come on, baby doll. I know you want this."

"Why are you doing this?" you whispered, your voice trembling.

Wolf’s grin widened. "Because I can. Because it’s fun. And because deep down, I know you want us."

He pulled you closer, his body pressed against yours, his eyes filled with lust. Ghost’s rage grew as he watched Wolf’s fingers trail down your arm, his touch invasive and wrong.

"Let her go," Ghost repeated, his voice shaking with barely controlled fury.

"Make me," Wolf taunted, running his fingers through your hair. He leaned in, his lips brushing your neck, his hands tugging at the rope of your nightgown. Slowly, he loosened it, the fabric slipping down your body.

"C’mon, Simon," Wolf said, his voice filled with smug satisfaction. "She’s yours too."

Ghost's breath caught in his throat. He could see the flicker of fear in your eyes, but there was something else, a vulnerability that only deepened his protective instincts.

"She’s not a toy," Ghost growled, stepping closer, his fists shaking with the need to hit his brother.

Wolf ignored him, placing wet kisses along your neck. You bit your lip, eyes fluttering shut in discomfort. Ghost’s jaw clenched.

"I said, let her go!"

Ghost's throat tightened as he watched Wolf's lips trail across your skin, leaving wet kisses on your neck. His jaw clenched at the sight, his body torn between desire and rage.

"She's not a piece of meat, Wolf," Ghost growled, fists trembling at his sides. "I'm not going to use her like you do."

Wolf grinned, his hand sliding through your hair and pulling you closer. "Fine by me. I'll have her all to myself, then."

Your body arched under Wolf’s touch as he continued to kiss and squeeze you, leaving Ghost to watch helplessly. His jealousy gnawed at him, and despite the disgust he felt for Wolf's actions, the sight of you, vulnerable yet tantalizing, unraveled him.

Ghost’s breath hitched when Wolf’s hand brazenly moved to your chest, squeezing your breast, making you moan. He bit down on his anger and stepped closer. "This is wrong, Wolf. You can’t do this."

Wolf, unbothered, tugged at the straps of your nightgown, letting the fabric pool at your feet. Ghost’s eyes darkened as he saw your exposed body. His mind raced, and for a moment, his need to protect you was overshadowed by a primal urge to claim you for himself.

"You’re going to regret this," Ghost muttered through gritted teeth.

"Then do something about it," Wolf taunted, grabbing Ghost’s hand and placing it on your breast. Ghost’s heart pounded as he squeezed, feeling the softness of your skin against his gloved hand.

His body trembled with desire as he felt your warmth beneath his fingers, torn between the need to protect you and the undeniable pull of his own lust. Wolf’s words barely registered as Ghost’s mind clouded with need, his hand instinctively tracing your curves. The boundaries between rage and desire blurred as he found himself pulled deeper into the moment, unable to resist any longer.

Ghost’s lips hovered just inches from your skin, the heat of his breath mixing with the tension thick in the air. His gaze flicked between you and Wolf, anger and desire warring in his chest. But when his eyes locked on yours, there was no turning back.

He leaned in, capturing your neck with hungry kisses, his hand firmly cupping your breast. His fingers tightened, feeling the softness of your skin, and your breath hitched in response. Ghost’s restraint unraveled, and he let himself go, pressing his body against yours, his need palpable.

A low growl escaped him as he heard your soft moan, and he kissed you harder, more urgently. His hand slid lower, dipping beneath your delicate lace underwear, finding your wet folds with practiced ease. A shudder ran through him as he touched you, your body arching in response.

"Already so wet," Ghost murmured against your skin, his voice dark and possessive.

His fingers moved slowly at first, teasing, exploring, as his lips claimed your breasts. Each moan you let out only spurred him on, his body completely consumed by the need to have you, to make you his.

He lifted you by your thighs, handing you over to wolf. "Hold her tight, Wolf." He said, parting your legs.

His gaze was dark with intent as he knelt before you, his hands gripping your trembling thighs. He leaned in, his breath hot against your skin, and you could barely breathe from the anticipation. Without breaking eye contact, he whispered, "I'm going to taste you now," the promise in his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

His mouth found your sensitive core, lips and tongue working with a precision that made you moan instantly. Each flick of his tongue sent waves of pleasure through you, your body arching involuntarily. Wolf's grip on you tightened, holding you steady as your thighs trembled, his lips capturing yours to swallow the sounds of your pleasure.

Ghost continued his assault, his tongue exploring every inch of you with a fierce hunger, his low growls vibrating against your skin. "You taste like honey," he murmured between kisses, his voice rough with desire. His fingers parted you further, giving him full access as he ravished you with unrelenting intensity.

Your body writhed between the two of them, your moans muffled by Wolf’s mouth as Ghost pushed you to the edge, the sensations overwhelming, your mind clouded by the intensity of their touch.

As Ghost's tongue works its magic, Wolf's hand reaches down to join Ghost's fingers, spreading you even wider for their dual assault.

Ghost looked up, his eyes meeting Wolf's over your body. They shared a moment of understanding, a silent agreement to drive you mad with pleasure.

Wolf's gaze locked onto Ghost's as he began to move his fingers in sync with Ghost's tongue, the dual penetration sending you hurtling towards a climax. Ghost increased the pace of his tongue, his lips sucking gently on your clit as Wolf's fingers curled inside you, stroking your inner walls.

Your breathing grew ragged, your chest heaving as the sensations became too much. Wolf's hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head back to watch Ghost's face between your thighs. "Look at him," Wolf growled, "See what he's doing to you."

The combined sensations were too much, your body convulsing between them as a wave of intense pleasure washed over you. You cried out, your voice muffled against Wolf's shoulder as Ghost continued to lap at you, drawing out your release until you were boneless and breathless in their arms.

Ghost and Wolf held you tightly, their arms wrapping around your trembling body, holding you against them. They shared a look over your head, a look of triumph and possession.

"You're ours now," Ghost growled, his voice low and possessive. "And we're not going to let you go anytime soon."

Take her now. Wolf said.

Ghost looked up at him, a hint of surprise on his face. "You sure about that?"

Wolf nodded, a smirk on his face. "Absolutely. I want to see this."

A slow, predatory grin spread across Ghost's face. He laid you down on the bed, his eyes roaming over your body appreciatively. He climbed onto the mattress, positioning himself between your legs, his body hard and ready. "Look at me, love," he murmured, his voice low.

Ghost looked down at you, his eyes filled with hunger. He wanted you, wanted to claim you completely. He gave a small nod before shifting his position, lifting you up and positioning you carefully.

He looked down at you, his eyes meeting yours. He waited a moment, letting the tension build, before speaking again. "I want you, darling. I want all of you. And I'm going to take my time."

"Open up," Ghost instructed, his voice ragged as he slowly pushed into you. He gave you time to adjust, his eyes locked onto yours as he filled you inch by inch. "Wolf wanted to see me take you,"

You could feel the heat between you, the way your bodies fit together perfectly. Ghost was in complete control, the air heavy with tension and desire.

Ghost slowly began to move, his hips rolling against yours in a slow, deliberate rhythm. He savored the feeling of being inside you, the warmth and tightness that only you provided. He looked up at Wolf, who was standing beside the bed, his eyes glued to the scene unfolding before him.

Wolf's gaze was intense, his eyes fixed on the two of you. He was watching every move, every contour, every expression. He was enjoying the view, the way Ghost was claiming you, marking you as his.

"Touch her," Ghost rasped, looking up at Wolf. "I want to see you touch her while I'm inside her." Wolf  leaned over, his hand cupping your breast, his thumb teasing the peak.

Your body responded instantly, arching into his touch, your breath catching in your throat. Ghost continued to move, his thrusts growing harder, more demanding.

As Wolf played with your breasts, Ghost increased his pace, his hips snapping forward as he drove into you. His breathing grew heavier, his grunts punctuating the rhythm of his movements. "You feel so good, love," he hissed, burying his face in your neck. "So good..."

Wolf leaned in, capturing your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. He swallowed your moans, his tongue dueling with yours as Ghost's pace quickened. The room was filled with the sound of your combined moans, the creaking of the bed, and the rough grunts of the men claiming you.

Wolf's hand moved down from your breast, tracing down your stomach, lingering on your hip. He was watching you two intently, his eyes smoldering.

Ghost's movements became more urgent, his body moving with a primal need. He wanted you, all of you, and he wasn't going to hold back anymore.

He pulled back, his eyes meeting Wolf's over your head as they continued to share you. He knew that the two of them working together would drive you wild, make you come undone. It was a power trip for both of them, a game of possession and dominance.

"Fuck, she's so tight," Ghost groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Wolf, I need you to hold her down. I don't want her to move." Wolf quickly complied, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you back against the bed.

You were helpless now, trapped beneath them, completely at their mercy. They had you exactly where they wanted you, completely surrendered to their control.

Ghost's movements became frantic, his hips slamming against yours as he chased his release. Wolf held you still, his other hand coming up to wrap around Ghost's wrist, guiding his thrusts. "Now, Ghost," Wolf commanded. "Now, fill her up."

"Look at me," Ghost panted, his body tensing as he reached his peak. You looked up at him, your eyes filled with unspent passion. He thrust deep one last time, his body shuddering as he released inside you, filling you with his essence.

Ghost trembled above you, his body spent and sated. His eyes never left yours, his gaze holding you captive.

"We're not done with you yet, love," Wolf  whispered.

"It's my turn now." Wolf said.

Ghost chuckled, rolling off you and onto the mattress beside you. "Go ahead," he said, his voice filled with satisfaction. "She's all yours for now."

Wolf's voice was low, his eyes glinting with unspoken desires. He began to unbuckle his belt, his eyes never leaving yours. "Ghost has had his turn. Now it's my turn to claim you." He pushed his pants down, stepping out of them before climbing onto the bed.

He loomed over you, his body taut and toned, his muscles rippling as he moved. His eyes were fixed on you, a possessive fire burning within them.

You bit your lip, your eyes widening as Wolf positioned himself between your thighs. Ghost shifted beside you, his hand trailing down your side as he watched Wolf prepare to enter you. "You look so eager," Ghost whispered, his breath warm against your ear. "He's going to take you so good, love."

Wolf's eyes locked onto yours, his expression intense and focused. "I'm going to make you scream," he promised, his voice a low rumble. "And you'll love every second of it."

Ghost's hand tightened around your hip, his fingers digging into your skin as he watched Wolf prepare to enter you. He leaned up, pressing a kiss to your mouth as Wolf pushed forward, slowly sinking into your warmth. "Fuck, she's so tight," Wolf groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Ghost watched intently, his eyes never leaving the sight of Wolf inside you. He could feel your body responding, could see the way you trembled beneath them.

As Wolf pounded into you, Ghost reached out and wrapped his hand around his own throbbing length, starting to stroke himself in time with Wolf's thrusts.

"Fuck, look at her," Ghost said, his voice rough with desire. "She's taking you so deep, Wolf. So fucking deep." He reached out, his hand coming down to rest on your stomach as he felt the vibrations of Wolf's thrusts through your body.

Wolf's thrusts grew harder, faster, his grunt of effort filling the room. Ghost could see the sweat beading on his forehead, the muscles in his arms straining as he held your knees apart. "Ghost, she's squeezing me so fucking tight," Wolf gasped out, his voice cracking with pleasure.

Wolf's pace never faltered, his hips pounding into yours with relentless intensity. Ghost could see the sweat beading on your forehead, the way your breasts bounced with each thrust. "I need to touch her," Ghost said, his voice desperate. "I need to feel her while you're inside her."

His pace only intensified, his thrusts becoming brutal and unrelenting. You could feel his cock hitting all the right spots, sending jolts of pleasure through your body with every snap of his hips. Ghost's hand on your stomach tightened, his fingers digging in as he struggled to keep himself under control.

"You're... so... tight," Wolf hissed between clenched teeth, each word punctuated by a powerful thrust. "So... warm... so... perfect..." His fingers dug into your thighs, spreading you wider as he increased his pace, his breath hot against your neck.

"Touch her," Wolf grunted, his voice strained with effort. "Make her come on my…" He trailed off, his words devoured by a low moan as he continued to pound into you. Ghost needed no further encouragement.

"She's so close," Ghost hissed, his voice barely a whisper. "Listen to her, Wolf. She's loving every second of it." He leaned down, his breath warm against your ear. "Come for him, love. Show him how much you love it."

"Come for him," Ghost growled, his voice low and commanding. "Show Wolf what he does to you, love. Show him how much you love having us both like this." His hand slid down, his fingers finding that sensitive nub between your thighs and rubbing in rhythm with Wolf's thrusts.

Your body tensed, your back arching as the overwhelming sensations became too much. Wolf leaned forward, his body covering yours as he continued to drive into you. He captured your cries in a searing kiss, swallowing your screams as he pushed you over the edge. "Good girl,"

"Look at him," Ghost urged again, his voice hoarse with desire. "Look at how he's claiming you. Look at how he's making you his." His fingers stilled, applying just the right amount of pressure as he felt your body tense one final time. "Wolf, she's....."

"Wolf," you moaned, your body arching as Ghost's skilled fingers pushed you closer and closer to the edge. "Oh, god, Wolf!"  Your body tensed, your back arching as the waves of pleasure crashed over you.

"That's it, love," Ghost encouraged, his voice hoarse with desire. "Come all over him. Show him what a good girl you are." Wolf's face contorted in pleasure as he felt your inner walls spasm around his hard length.

Wolf buried his face in the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping around you as he found his own release. Ghost's hand slid back up to your belly, his fingers splayed wide as he felt the jerking motions of Wolf's body against his own hand. "That's it," he whispered.

"That's our good girl," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. "You took us both so well."

[ltash]

Nightwar Ghost in game Virtual Photography

All Pic credits: @modernwarfare.vp Instagram

https://www.instagram.com/modernwarfare.vp?igsh=MXJqbDdjZGl6eXloeg==

[ltash]

I am not gonna forgive activision for this. I am serious..

[ltash]

I have never surrendered in front of a warrior.

How come in front of your eyes, I surrendered?

I came back after winning all my battles.

How come I lost my battle in front of your eyes?

[ltash]

My Baby Shot Me Down

Warning: Extreme angst.

The night was bitter, biting into your skin as you stood frozen on the SAS base. The cold wind tugged at your clothes, but the chill in your bones came from something else, something darker.

Ghost stood in front of you, a monolith of darkness, his voice cutting through the heavy air like a blade. "Don’t you ever think about this," he warned, his voice a rough, jagged thing, "or I will forget who you are."

(I was 5, and he was 6. We rode on horses made of sticks.)

Memories slipped into the edges of your mind, unbidden and unwanted. You remembered a time before all this, two children running through fields of green, wild with laughter, playing games with sticks as swords. He always won. You always let him win.

But this wasn’t a game anymore. Your gun was heavy in your hands, trembling as you pointed it at Captain Price, the man who had taken everything from you. "He killed my father. He killed General Shepherd."

(He wore black, and I wore white. He would always win the fight.)

Ghost’s words came like cold steel, merciless, and unyielding. "Your father was no one but a traitor," he spat, "who betrayed us, who betrayed his own country."

Tears burned at your eyes, blurring your vision. "He had no right," you sobbed, the words breaking apart as they left your lips, "he had no right to kill him like that. In his office. At his desk."

(Bang bang, he shot me down, bang bang I hit the ground.)

Ghost’s voice became a command. "Put your gun down. Now." His tone was edged with something deadly, a finality that left no room for hesitation. "Or I will shoot without a second thought."

You didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Your hands held the gun steady, aimed at Price. The weight of everything, betrayal, loss, the unbearable grief, it held you there, unmoving, locked in place.

(Bang bang, that awful sound… bang bang, my baby shot me down…)

"Y/N!" Ghost’s voice was a growl now, a beast barely restrained. "This is your last warning. I will forget who you are."

For a moment, you searched his eyes—those dark, stormy eyes hidden behind the mask. You searched for Simon, the boy you once knew. The one who used to be soft, who used to laugh. The boy who once held your heart in his hands.

You saw him. For just a moment, you saw the boy you grew up with, the one who shielded you from the world just as you had shielded him and Tommy from the bullies in school.

(Seasons came and changed the time.)

You remembered everything, the laughter, the quiet moments of peace when he found solace in your arms, the way you used to look at him and see a future, one full of love and warmth.

(When I grew up, I called him mine.)

But the man standing before you now wasn’t that boy anymore. His eyes were hollow, devoid of the warmth they once held. The mask hid more than just his face. It hid the soul you once knew, the one you loved.

(He would always laugh and say, remember when we used to play…)

Once, you played games. You used to pretend to shoot each other, laughing as you fell to the ground, knowing it was all make-believe. But this time, there was no pretending. This time, the guns were real, and the stakes were life and death.

(Bang bang…he shot you down..)

The sound of gunfire exploded through the silence. Two shots, ringing out like a death knell, reverberating through the air.

Your breath caught in your throat as pain bloomed in your chest. The world seemed to slow, every heartbeat an agony. The gun fell from your hand, clattering to the ground, as you staggered backwards, your legs giving out beneath you.

(Bang bang, you hit the ground…)

The earth rose up to meet you, cold and unforgiving. Your body collapsed into the dirt, the warmth of your blood spilling from the wound Ghost had given you. You gasped for breath, each one more laboured than the last, the world around you dimming, the stars above fading into the blackness.

(Bang bang, that awful sound…)

Ghost’s footsteps were slow, deliberate, as he approached. His gun lowered, and he stood over you, his shadow falling across your broken form. He looked down at you, his voice low, distant, as if he was speaking to a memory rather than the person lying at his feet.

"I used to shoot you down," he murmured, his voice almost soft, almost tender. But there was no warmth in it. There was no recognition of the girl he once loved.

You thought of those days, those games you played as children, how he would always offer his hand after you fell, pulling you back to your feet, his smile boyish and full of affection.

But not this time.

This time, his hand stayed by his side.

The world around you was fading, the cold seeping into your skin as the night closed in. The pain in your chest spread like wildfire, but you could barely feel it now, the numbness slowly taking over. Your hand trembled as you lay there, blood soaking into the ground beneath you.

Everything was slipping away.

Through the haze of agony, you raised your hand, the gesture almost instinctual, reaching for him one last time. Your fingers stretched out toward Ghost, or maybe not him, but the memory of Simon. The boy you once knew, the boy who always pulled you up after you fell, his grip firm, his smile soft, as though he was your anchor in a world that seemed to tilt and spin around you.

(He would always laugh and say, remember when we used to play…)

You remembered it clearly, how he always offered his hand after your playful falls, how he would pull you up with ease, laughing like it was all part of some unspoken promise, that no matter what, he’d always be there to catch you.

So, you gave him your hand. Just one time, just one last time.

"Simon!!"

Like a prayer, you called his name.

Maybe, just maybe, he’d take it again. Maybe, in some hidden part of him, that boy still lived, the one who would never leave you on the ground. You reached for him, hope flickering in the depths of your chest, fragile as the breath you fought for.

But his eyes, dark and unreadable beneath the mask, didn’t soften. He stood there, unmoving, the weight of his decision bearing down like a shadow. His hand stayed at his side, no longer the lifeline it had once been.

The silence stretched between you, your hand still hanging in the air, waiting, desperate for the touch that would never come.

You thought for a moment that he might, that maybe the Simon you loved was still there, buried deep beneath the Ghost he had become. But as the seconds dragged on, as the cold began to numb your fingers, you realized…

He wasn’t going to take your hand. Not this time.

The darkness pressed in on you, the weight of the wound pulling you down, the finality of it sinking in. There would be no pulling you back to your feet. No familiar warmth, no reassurance that things would be okay.

Your hand fell limply back to the ground, cold and empty.

And as your vision blurred, as the world around you dimmed, you understood with a crushing clarity: you were truly alone.

This time, no one was there to pull you up.

You lay there, the world slipping away, your body growing colder as the pain dulled. There was no hand to pull you up, no familiar warmth to guide you back to your feet. Only the darkness, creeping in around the edges, and the silence that followed.

(Bang bang…)

And as you succumbed to the wound he gave you, you realized,

You were alone.

[ltash]

Give me a daughter with your stubborn heart,

Or even your temper,

Give our kid your dark and bright eyes,

Or your enchanted smile,

So even after we are gone,

The world will find within them all of the reasons why,

I loved you..

Habibi Ya noor e Qalbi,

[ltash]

"War couldn't break him. It reforged him into something darker."

He walked alone, the heavy stomping of his combat boots echoing against the asphalt, a forewarning of his presence. Each step was taken with a sense of ownership.

He walked as if the ground itself belonged to him.

He walked like the days he marched alongside his comrades, the tarmac beneath them, donning his royal blue uniform with the Union Jack he proudly wore on his chest.

"May God have mercy on my enemies because I won't." -Ghost

Pic Credit:

Instagram: dwisesz

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