Its 12:58 am and all that is coming to my mind is kangaroo hybrid!simon and please tell me I'm not the only one, he stands at a height way above a normal human range almost 7'0, he's jacked unnaturally so, claws as sharp as a knife, has an aura so intimidating that he wards off the most apex of predators. He has those jagged scars on his chest, one across his forehead till his snoot, he's roughed up, raggedy, scary but he has this hunger for you, a female, easy to catch, hard to mate, dreams of your sweet cunt under that tail, he's simply drooling at the thought of how those soft and gummy walls will feel around his Shaft, as he drills into you in the open wild letting everyone in the damn troops know who you belong to, who he belongs to. He can't wait to see you knocked up with his babe, can't wait to see his offspring in your pouch being nurtured by his sweet mum. This mating season best believe he's going to fight and kill anyone that comes in between his darling and the beast himself.
He used to have a bridge piercing, now closed up and only noticeable because he likes - genuinely loves - when you manhandle his face. Like he’s a giant Rottweiler in desensitization training. Drool catching in the webbed skin between your fingers. Nipping at the tips of your new gel manicure. (He asks if you’d paint his initials on your nails. You say no. He's not bothered. More… pleased. Like he was testing to see if he could push your boundaries, and is happy that he can't.)
He explains his past of being a punk youth, how a counselor got him to quit drugs and enlist. It's mildly infuriating.
"One fucked habit for another." Your muttering isn't lost; he's too present, the alley too narrow for that. He shrugs, like it’s no big deal that he’s still kicking, all ten fingers and toes, seemingly well-adjusted - or at the very least, self-aware.
You thumb the space between his eyes. Feel the thickness of healed skin. "I think you should put it back in."
"Get it re-pierced?" He nudges into your hand, encouraging you after you stop.
"Yeah, why not?"
"Coz I’m fucking forty with a wife."
"Your wife is single," you remind him, like it’s a direct correction.
"Mm." A palm skates across your belly. "Is she pregnant too?"
Your hand stills. Heart stops. Mouth opening - "How - who told you that?"
He mirrors you. Shocked, in his own way. "You’re-?"
You shove him hard. "Fuck no, you fuck! God, you scared the hell out of me."
He settles back in far too easily, in your opinion. Purring, essentially.
"Soon."
"No chance."
"Never, then." His acceptance with your choice. It eases you. No more defense.
"… Maybe not that, either."
His head tilts, chin up. "Yeah?"
You shrug instead of answering. You think you'd do anything for him.
Ghost doesn't cutesy talk cats, he talks to them like other adult men and it's hilarious.
They're at a safehouse, and Ghost is listening to the radio, Price hears him talking to someone, and he's confused because both of his sergeants are conked out asleep.
So, he walks around the corner and finds Ghost sitting on a step with the radio playing and a stray kitten biting his laces while he talks to her. "I don't believe shoelaces constitute part of a balanced diet."
John just sits down on the step next to him and ignores how his knees click. "What's her name?"
"She's yet to disclose name or rank, but given that she's clearly smarter than those two through there, I'd say she's a lieutenant." He responds so dryly that John can't help but snort.
"Ah, I see. Making her way through the ranks at her young age, impressive." He leans forward to pet the kitten, flattening down the tuft of fur sticking up on her head.
"She's a hard worker, look at those paws. Grubby, she's been busy."
The kitten offers them a mewl in response, and he nods accordingly.
"She's stern, reminds me of Laswell."
That makes Ghost laugh.
Simon 'Ghost' Riley who's just, so fucking happy to hear you complain.
like the tap is dripping? yes ma'am he'll fix that straight away, because a tap that drips long enough to annoy you means he's got a home.
the grocery store has changed the layout? that means you've been there long enough to notice.
there's construction for an ugly building down the street? you're clearly planning to stay.
he left the toilet seat up? he'll kiss your face all over until you giggle, promising he won't do it again, he might, just to hear you complain about it.
he's just so giddy when you complain about mundane things, he's so happy you don't have to worry about blood and war and death, you get to live in peace. even if that peace is disrupted by a stupid toilet seat.
warnings: violence, blood, mistakes, badly written British speech, I got some inspiration from The Rookie for the undercover part
P.S. I wrote all day and now as I post this it's 2.30 a.m. and I'm too tired. I'll make links and all the other things work tomorrow. I'm thinking of adding one more part.
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI
- the fifth time you meet it’s at the shooting range on site
- Price informs you that the TF 141’s crew likes to challenge each other for the title of the best marksman and you’re invited to participate as a guest to help you bond better with one another, and indirectly and subtly gauge your skill in action, as you’ve deduced; you surprise them with the affirmation; you’d like to point out that underestimating you, will be their mistake, but you refrain from doing so basking in the advantage you have over them
- you don’t make the winning title; you knew you wouldn’t; that title is always disputed between Ghost and Soap; but you do make a good impression; though you avoid having to get in a shootout on missions, knowing there’s more risks than worth the trouble, your aim is excellent; you can hit a target both stationary and mobile targets at various distances; not many can manage the feat, but you take training seriously, always in competition with yourselves, not others; being focused on self growth is one of your unspoken passions; you take interest in anything and everything that presents benefits to being a better undercover agent
- the final round is a battle between the grumpy British and the jesting Scott; it’s a close score, but Ghost comes out victorious; your heart flutters as he turns to you making eye contact; brown eyes scan your face for any sign of emotion; but you don’t play his game; you turn around without another word or reaction, on your way to getting back to your work;
- unbeknownst to you, Ghost watches your departing figure like a hawk, action which the rest of his teammates take notice of; ‘Dowie ye coudnae impress th' bonny lassie, Lt.?’ the Scott chuckles at his own words; Price has to intervene before Ghost can reduce the numbers of members the 141 has
- your preparations include finding an outfit that’ll catch the attention of that lewd middle aged fucker; and there is no person more suitable for that than Soap; you ask the captain to lend you Soap and a car to take to the town next over where you know you’ll find a dress shop; he agrees without qualms, knowing it isn’t a joyride but an important errand for the mission; he doesn’t have to know that the two of you had fun, caving ang giving in to gossip like school girls; you talked about anything and everything; Soap is awfully curious about your work, asking you to describe methods and procedures; you indulge him with the promise that he’ll help you pick a dress and shoes; he can’t say no as he gets too ogle at you trying on different dresses that hug your form perfectly and expose all the right parts of you, attracting the attention there;
- ‘Bein’ an undercover agent is similar to being an actor or actress. The only difference is that you might get killed or worse if you forget your lines.’ You synthesize trying on a fitted red dress that shows just enough cleavage and is long enough that you don’t have to worry that your behind will get exposed with wrong move; you and Soap decide that this one is the perfect one, paired with black stilettos; with a bit of makeup and a blow out you’ll look better than most models, as per Soap’s opinion; you agree without a smidge of modesty
- everything in place by the time you have to roll out and begin the mission
- you book a room at hotel that’s close enough to the club your target like to frequent; the plan is simple, seduce him and bring him to the room where the TF 141 will be waiting, ready for some not so pleasant information extraction
- everything goes smoothly; you manage to catch his attention the moment you walk up to the bar passed the VIP lounge area; he flies like a moth to the flame ignorant of his own demise; with his capture your fist phase of the mission is done; now comes the harder part
- you teach Soap how to be an undercover agent; he’s quite good at it, just as you anticipated it; you teach him all the important stuff and go over so many scenarios that he must be prepared to face; you teach him how to cover his tattoo seamlessly, with waterproof foundation; all goes smoothly
- ‘You’ll let me do the talking, as I’ll play your employer. Remember, you’re my bodyguard. If I die you won’t get paid. It’s ok to show concern for my safety but don’t make it emotional. You can’t be attached to me in there. You don’t know me like that in character. Rule goes if I’m dead or captured you save yourself, no questions asked. You can figure later wat to do, once you’re safe. You don’t panic, no matter what. Keep it cool, it makes it easier to find on the spot decisions. Remember, it doesn’t have to be perfect, it has to be credible. Ignore any comments and insults, but never back down from a confrontation. Shew ‘em you’re strong, dangerous if needed, ready to fight if necessary. But don’t provoke. Confrontations mean unnecessary risks. We need those. And if the situation goes to shite we pull out. Mission can get fucked; our lives matter more. Understood?’
- ‘Yes ma’am.’ And with that the undercover boot camp is over; ‘Get as much rest as possible. Out there you’ll be on high alert every moment. It’s not the same as on the battlefield where you worry about where the enemy is shooting. Here you must fool the enemy, get them to trust you, to accept you as one of them. You’ll have to worry about your words and gesture. The smallest flinch can trigger a chain of events that’ll get you killed.’
- ‘Got it. No flinchin’’he ads in jest; you know he’s smart enough to understand the dangers and not take anything lightly; but this is his way to cope with the stress; you allow it
- you establish your identities; you are the chemistry student that cracked under the pressure of debt, and took to the streets to cook; you’ve got experience and you can prove it; your notoriety already out on the streets through well placed rumours
- he’s your back up; freshly out prison, you’ve got inmates wrapped around your little finger ready to attest to that; he did time for arms deal and an armed bank robbery that ended with an IED explosion; he knows how to build them how to make them work; he’s a professional; learned from his grampa who served in the IIWW; he’s your bodyguard; his job is to keep you safe, no matter what; his nickname: Scotty, for obvious reasons
- the plan is sound now let’s see the execution; you get approached by one of the cartel lieutenants one day in broad daylight; he proposes to you a meet-up with the boss where you can prove you’ve got skills; you accept on the condition that your bodyguard stays at your side through it all; he accepts; the day comes where you two are picked up and taken to your audience with boss; he asks you live proof and you cook for him, fast, efficient and professionally; you obtain fentanyl with a purity of 98%; highest there is; he’s impressed; but he asks Scotty to step outside with his own bodyguards and let you finish the details of the deal; a matter of security, he’d argument; the fewer that know the better
- you agree and give Soap the order to go and wait for you outside office; he’s hesitant but obeys; good boy you mentally praise him
- but once your left alone the real test begins; he grabs your hand and pulls you flat against the desk, a gun to your head; you’ve been in this situation before so you don’t lose your cool, but on the outside you play the scared woman cornered by her would be killer; you know Ghost watches through the scope from the next building’s rooftop eager to drop him at your sign; Price and Gaz are on the roof waiting for a sign to breach through the windows; but the goal isn’t killing him; the goal is using him to catch a bigger fish; so you play your part begging and swearing up and down you’re not an infiltrator; Soap can hear your distress through the door but he doesn’t do more than threat the guards; ‘If mah client dies ye'r a' deid. Git it?' they share a look and nod in apprehension; he stays put
- ‘It’s all a show, Soap. If you don’t hear the catch phrase then you needn’t worry about me. I can handle my fare share of assholes.’ He trusts you know what you’re doing
- crying you get the drug lord to believe you; you show weakness and he soaks in it; men are easy to manipulate once they think they’re in control; he lets go you run out the door and get Scotty to get you out of there; once in your hotel room you both exhale in relief; you did good work an it worked seamlessly;
- phase three consists on working for the drug lord, getting him to open up to you; it allows you to point out Scotty’s skill; he considers it and then takes the bait making him his assistant in the arms deal related problems; Scotty gives good advice; he gains more trust; and with that comes the biggest opportunity: getting access to their computers; he instals a remote backdoor and boom: Laswell has know access to everything; she finds the location, date and time of the RV where the next deal will be negotiated with the head of the terrorist cell; everything works like a well oiled machine; this triggers the final phase
- phase four, affectionately called The Take Down begins immediately; Laswell sends Price back up, highly trained marines; they strike at right moment; you and Soap are present for the whole ordeal; it’s a bloodbath really; both the cartel and the terror cell gets annihilated; you get out without a single scrape; you laugh once more as lucks favours you again
- after the mission you all spend the evening at the bar; Laswell joins you in spirit being stuck over the pond at the CIA HQ, debriefing a plethora of generals and other higher ups of your success; you on the other hand relax over a few drinks; nothing too wild; just a quick celebration to let your hair down
- you step outside for a smoke; Ghost joins you; you sit in silence until you voice the question that has plagued your mind for months now; ‘What did ya mean by that?’ he stays silent, fretting, searching for the right words
- ‘Ya saved me arse.’ He settles on the crude phrasing; you’re confused; ‘Care to remind me how?’ more silence; he sighs; ‘Ya dragged me outta that facility. With y’r pretty little handsies and body half me size. Ya made quite the impression on me.’
- realisation hits you as you make eye contact; brown orbs stare into yours filled with admiration and something more; something you can’t quite put your finger on; you blush and look away; fuck
- you stay silent; but then you make a mindless admission: ‘I made the right decision that day.’ ‘That, ya did, love.’
- the following day you make another decision; instead of going back to HQ, you ask Price for a private meeting; he agrees believing you want to request escort back; you don’t; you tell him you made your mind; ‘Y’r mind about what, agent?’ without a beat you voice your choice: ‘I wanna stay, indefinitely.’ He eyes you up and down not really believing his ears; any person in their right-mind would take that golden ticket and get as far from the front lines; but you’re not; you’re bonkers; the sergeants were right; but he can’t stop you; that golden ticket guarantees you an open seat in any branch
- he doesn’t admit but he’s pleased with your choice to join his task force; you’re one of the best and he’s got an eye out for those, like a collector; he’s only a bit worried about your bond with Ghost; he hopes it won’t end up in disaster; but he trusts your professionalism and moral code to do what’s best for the world above all
Previous part here.
Next part here.
warnings: violence, blood, mistakes, badly written British speech, I got some inspiration from The Rookie for the undercover part
P.S. I loved Frenchie from The Boys and I just couldn’t help myself. Apologies 😊
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI
- the fourth time you meet it’s no longer up to chance but up to your discretion
- the last mission scored you one of the most prized rewards in your field: a golden ticket; basically you get permission to retire from your field an choose another with less risk and a larger pay check, a “thank you gift card” from the director of the MI6, the King and England herself; it’s a type of mobility many dream of, having checked off the bucket list almost dying in al sorts of crazy situations and the young adventurous attitude toward danger having morphed into a veteran hesitant mentality; you are given plenty of time to decide where you want to go
- a month later you hear rumours of a task force newly formed, one-four-one they’d call it; cheesy you think not really giving anymore attention; and then the briefing about some partnership between under cover specialised agents and this mystery task force for a top tier mission; you think about it, you haven’t had any action in three months now and anymore desk work will drive you up a wall if it continues; you skim over the file on the task force with disinterest, mostly because task forces like these were made up of brutes, eager to pick fights with the enemy and partially because most of the words had been redacted; a few are left out in the open among the sea of black ink: task force, covert mission, high-performance, low collateral casualties, you hum in thought
- what makes you not only volunteer with a manic grin, but actually consider having found the place for your relocation; under the captain’s name John Price, follow three more names; the last two are unknown to you and unimportant, two Sergeants, one John ‘Soap’ MacTavish, and another Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick; but the one is impossible to mistake: Lt. Ghost; no first name, no last name; the only person whose file you ever read to bear that name.
- your application for the mission gets accepted almost instantly your reputation proceeding you almost any briefing room now; you’re informed that you’ll depart within the hour and other things you need to know about it; nothing really matters as you know you’ll get the chance to confront that knobhead that has plagued all your waking hours and some dreams with his obscure choice of words as you departed;
- you’re ready in 30, not really owning much and usually being moved from HQ to HQ, or base, or house within small time frames, which doesn’t allow for many personal things anyway; you wait in the shade, dragging from a cigarette, to pass the time, until the heli lands on the heli-pad; you don’t get to wait much, the pilot is here a little early; good; you don’t like to wait
- the flight is short the base not, far from the MI6 HQ; you pass the time reading a book you took, some title that caught your attention at the library across the street of where you usually buy cigarettes; the story doesn’t raise to your expectations, the writing style is mediocre and the characters have as much depth as a glass of water; you contemplate throwing it out the window, but refrain when the pilot announces ETA: less than 5; you hum heart beating a little quicker at the excitement you feel for finally being able to decipher the meaning behind those blood words
- as soon as the heli touches down on tarmac you’re out the door, no words of goodbye to the pilot; he’s used to it’
- the welcoming committee consists of the two Sergeants, now finally connecting faces to the names you read on the files; they’re casual in your attitude towards you which is a little invigorating, but they wouldn’t drop the “ma’am”; they’ll get over it; you’re probably a little older than them
- John ‘Soap’ MacTavish is chatty Scott, who’s a little to nosy for your liking, but within reasonable limits; you’re not sure if is actually trying to charm the pants off of you or that’s just how he is usually, throwing compliments left and right, but those have no effect on you and slide right off without much care; he sports an unusual haircut for some of the strictest branches of army that’s ever existed, SAS you see the patch on his shoulder, and a wacky tattoo representing the Task Force 141 insignia on his huge forearm
- Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick is almost opposite to “Soap”, he’s more laid back, observing more than talking, making small comments when the Scott’s cascade off words gets interrupted, chuckling at his comrade poor attempts at complimenting you; he’s not as well built as Soap, but he stands a couple inches taller than you
- ‘He’s always like that?’ you direct your attention to “Gaz” as the two of them walk in front of you like two loyal guard dogs
- ‘Yes ma’am, though he get’s easier to ignore with time.’ You both chuckle, a huge disservice to the Scott that protests ‘Oi’ followed by a 'What's that suppose tae mean?' in the thickest Scottish accent you’ve had the chance to hear
- ‘You’re bothersome, bruv.’ Soap hits Gaz’s shoulder in brotherly fashion and the playful banter begins; you tune them up, and think about finally getting to change out of your civilian clothes and into something blacker, more unflattering and less eye catching than the light blue skinny jeans that have managed to flare out more than one whistle as you passed; arseholes and jar-heads come to the forefront of your mind
- you’re led first to your room and left there with the promise that one of them, most likely Soap, cause he already volunteered to do it, will come collect you for the briefing before supper
- you’re left alone to install, unpack, get changed and unwind from the irksome travel and the fact that you are being watched like deer in the headlights, fresh faces always attract the interest of the crowd in places like this
- the walk towards the briefing room is short but Soap manages to pour so many words in that interval that you’re almost sure he’s going to run out; once inside Soap’s chatter dies down and you make eye contact with the captain
- John Price gives off the energy of a strong father figure, his facial hair adding to his age; he not much older than you but the stress of leadership is visible on his face, eyes winged with crow’s feet; he gives a tight-lipped smile and a curt nod as you and the sergeant enter; he waits for Gaz to join you before he begins the briefing
- as for the hulking beast of a man, clad in black, brown eyes surrounded by black army issued face paint and hidden behind that grotesque mask of his, oh no, you haven’t miss him, just ignored him; you felt his gaze burning your skin, searching for eye contact, which you vehemently denied; suffer just like I did, bloke
- Gaz comes in and is witness to the unthinkable; you the new face, pretty one might say without lying, so much different from these hardened man, more in common with the civvies than them, go and sit right next to Ghost, no space left in between the two of you; and what’s even crazier, you don’t acknowledge him; Soap and Gaz share a look; the captain seems amused by your actions and the sergeants confusion; no one, absolutely no-fucking-body ever sat next to Ghost, willingly and without starring dumbly and frightened at him; no one, never
- you take your seat, and place your notebook and pen neatly in front of you, facing the whiteboard as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened; the two chaps sit down slowly, eyes trained on you half expecting you to realize your mistake and jump out of the chair; but you surprise them once again when you finally decide to meet the glare directed at you head on and to crack a smirk at the lieutenant
- their minds are blown, mouth open in disbelief, they glance at one another; their minds are set, you get labelled as the agent who clearly lost their mind somewhere in some gone wrong mission; they’ll bombard you with questions later
- as for Ghost, he’s as still as puma waiting to spring to attack; if looks could kill, you’d be disintegrated to the last atom; you’re as unbothered as a new born foal, unaware of its impending doom
- Price clears his voice, catching your attention and diminishing the tension that clouds around the semicircle table
- he makes an introduction for you, stating the reason you’re here, and what you’re specialized in: undercover espionage; you give a nod to all the men
- on a laptop in the furthermost side of the table a connection is established and a blonde American woman greets you; she’s CIA, their handler and yours for the upcoming mission; you have no qualms to work with the other most prominent intelligence agency, the one from over the pond, as long as you get to do your job as you know best; you feel the respect the men have for her and the fondness in the captain’s eyes once they greet each other; they’re old friends, that much you can tell
- you decide you’ll respect Kate Laswell and trust her, as much as one can trust when one builds their carrier on lying to others and distrusting everyone; she’s pleasant so far, familiar with the men, and cuts straight to the chase just how you like it
- the target is one drug overlord who decided to take things up a notch and deal in arms with terrorists; the goal: disrupt the block-chain and cut the heads off the snakes; simple enough nothing that you haven’t tackled before
- you’re given green light to propose how to approach and infiltrate this business; you explain that you have to get quite high in their hierarchy if you want a shot at real damage; you skim over the information available on his deals: fentanyl, the most recent drug that’s flooded the streets; you know how to “cook” it from a previous cartel you took down; you’ll enter as just that “a cooker”, but you’ll also need a bodyguard to make yourself seem more important, but more on that later; you point out the name of the current one, the first target
- if you manage to get that person out of the game, you’ll have a chance to fill that spot, maybe the most important chain link in the whole operation
- you already have in mind the persona you’ll assume, a chemistry drop-out that took to cooking drugs; you know that your skills far surpass the target’s and you know how to cook a purer form of fentanyl; as for your bodyguards’: a crook; fresh out of prison on the lookout for work that pays well; one with knowledge of guns and explosives, surely to pique the terrorist cell’s interest in their skill
- Soap offers for the role, impressed so far with your knowledge and method of operating; you’re through, and he’d like to learn more on infiltration; you agree hearing he’s got what it takes to be convincing enough
- Laswell, Price and Gaz all hum in agreement at your plan waiting to hear their part in it; simple: Laswell can help with credentials and all the raw materials you’ll need to pull this off; Gaz, the captain and Ghost will be your back up, providing fire power
- the first target is easy to take down: he’s a middle-aged creep, who likes pretty young women and heavy drinks, parties like he’s twenty not fifty something; they already have info on his preferred hotspots; you’ll go in lure him out for the men to bag him and make him disappear
- everyone agrees so far adding small details here and there; it’s only your first few hours or so and every single one understands why you’re held in so high regard; it’s all warranted
- Ghost is the only one who hasn’t said anything, allowing you to direct the briefing, already know you’re more than capable and have far more experience with such delicate planning
- once everything is settled you start planning out the preparations you’ll need to make beforehand; Soap will train under your supervision; you point out he already looks the part, a delinquent; the comment lacks any trace of ill intent, but everyone can’t help but chuckle at his huff of indignation followed by ‘ ’M not’; you sweeten the deal praising his charming nature and easy-going attitude; he smiles at that but it’s short lived by your next comment
- ‘You'll do fine as long as you let me do the talking. I doubt you calling anyone 'bonnie lass' will get you very far.’ That gets everyone to let out a chuckle, everyone knowing Soaps anticks; even Ghost lets out a grunt reminiscent of a laugh; the bruised ego Scott follows up with a ‘Pish off’ that’s met with laughter from you; you let the insult roll off in good humour
- the briefing ends, Laswell disconnects, and the rest of you stand up to make your way to the mess hall in time for dinner; Price holds you back, and you obey; you talk a little, mostly him, praises fly at you, for good planning, attention to details and overall how well you managed to fit in with them in such a short time; you thank him, having heard this all the time; you try, really hard, to be pliant and easy to work with; no need to be a hard-ass; you’re all on the same side
- he agrees with your well-spoken point of view; but he can’t help but ask what’s the deal with you and Ghost
- ‘Worked together before. We get along well.’ Your answer seems to put at ease some of his worries about the teams chemistry; with that out of the way he leads you to the mess hall where he gets you to sit with them at the table; you can feel everyone else’s eyes on you as the new face of the 141’s; but you ignore them chatting with “your” team; you kind of like the sound of that; you can quite imagine working along side them for the rest of your carrier, however short, as you know the death rates among undercover agents grow the further they go; very few get to retire in one piece, actually you can count them on one hand, at least the ones they tell you about at the academy
Previous part here.
Next part here.
”How are you my spooky scary skeleton?” You ask with a smile as you kiss Simon.
“Excuse me?” He can’t help but to just blink at you dumbfounded.
Please tell us you have some thoughts on enemy!ghost hate fucking reader
love ur work so much wish I could pick ur brain (endearing)
please pick my brain🙏
hate is passion, so that means hate sex is full of passion. I mean - it takes a lot out of a person to hate someone else! Sooo, Simon hate fucking you after seeing that you almost got shot- OOOFFF
this man would be rutting into you from behind, fisting your hair in his right hand while his left is around your throat, pulling you back into him. He’s fucking into you like he’s trying to drill a hole through you. Of course, you’re an absolute mess, cum dripping down your thighs, sweat lightly gracing your skin, and that intoxicating blush that litters your cheeks.
"This is all you’re good for, just a hole for me to fuck. Bein’ all useless out on field, can’t fucking keep yourself safe. Stupid little girl." The things he’s saying to you as he brings you closer to your climax makes you insane! You can hear his low and guttural grunts as his thrusts begin to become sloppy. He was close. With a few more thrusts and the feeling of the chub at the bottom of his abdomen slapping against your lower back and ass drives you over the edge.
he isn’t very keen on giving you aftercare after. He pulls on his uniform once again as you laid on the bed naked and shivering. He would catch glances at you, unmoving and silent, once fully dressed though, he would crouch on the foot beside your bed. He gripped your jaw tightly making you look at him. “Never put yourself in a position like that again.”
when he left, you felt alone. But there was an odd feeling…his words, the way he fucked you…there was passion. And passion was a dangerous thing, it was something that could be lost in just a few seconds.
as promised, a small Drabble about Ghost liking women with hair down there
you were a bit self conscious, marks on your body, a little more hair than other people in places, etc. so when you heard some of the recruits talking about how much their hookups liked seeing and having clean shaved pussy, you felt a little self conscious. You had never fully shaved down there, occasionally doing the manual trimming to keep yourself tidy, but never a full shave.
so when you got back home that day, you decided to shave yourself completely. Looking in the mirror, you weren’t the biggest fan of it or how it looked, but it was done now. This was also supposed to be a surprise for Ghost, something that would make him extremely excited and want you even more.
laying in bed, him overtop of you making out with you and pressing kisses to your sensitive, sweet spot just under your ear felt amazing. You were excited to show him the new…cut you’d given yourself, but what you didn’t expect was him to literally pause and give you what seemed to be the most confused and slightly disgusted look. It made you feel the turtle dove in your chest come up to your throat and choke you up. The thing you hoped he’d like, repulsed him??
“You don’t like it…?” You would ask in a small voice. the voice that knocked him back to reality. But he couldn’t form any words, still just staring down at you there. Your bottom lip trembled as you closed your legs, shifting out from under him and putting on your underwear back on.
you mumbled something about not feeling in the mood anymore, seeing how he physically recoiled as he knew how he reacted was completely wrong. after that, you washed up for bed and fell asleep, his strong arms around you as you silently cried yourself to sleep.
The next few days, you had put off doing anything remotely sexual that would allow Simon to see you down there again. On day four, he broke and found you sitting in the living room on the couch. He stood there, strong and tall, pulling your book from your hands.
“You’re puttin’ shit off, love. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
you asked what he meant, not expecting him to say how he had noticed you wouldn’t shower with him anymore, let him touch you down there or even look at you. This only caused tears to well up in the corner of your eyes as you told him why.
“You looked so disgusted…I thought you’d like it b-but you just stared…and didn’t say anything…”
he knew what you were saying, mentally beating himself up for it.
“Lovie, it’s not because I didn’t like it, I was just…shocked. Never seen my pretty girl like that before, made me lose my mind.”
you wiped at your tears, but Simon wouldn’t let it slide, he pulled down your pants, pulled aside your panties and went to town. He spent a good while between your thighs, worshipping you and how pretty you looked, mumbling against your clit about how pretty you looked for him. When he was done and he cleaned you up, he held you to his chest as he played with your hair. you both got to talking and that’s when he told you why he reacted like that:
“Baby, ya always look so gorgeous t’me. I’ll always love everything bout your body. But I love when my woman has some hair because it shows me how grown you are. You’re not some little girl anymore, you’re a woman. My woman.”
it was safe to say that after that, you never fully shaved again, only trimming.
I got a question. Who’s Badhjur and why is everyone obsessed with him?? Am I missing something?? Please enlighten me🙏🙏
my mind is so in the gutter…
imagine that you’re more quiet in bed, like, very minimal moans and sounds. So when Ghost finally has you in bed and he’s fingering you, eating you out and all that jazz, he gets a little worried when you don’t make sounds.
“Does it not feel good, love?”
you instantly shut down those thoughts of his, cupping his face and saying that it feels so fucking good, you just aren’t a noisy person when it comes to sex.
ghost takes this as a challenge in some sense, increasing his speed of his fingers pumping in and out of you, flicking his tongue on your clit quickly and substituting his fingers for his tongue every now and again.
he was determined to make you moan for him so he could hear your pretty ass sounds. When he finally makes you a moaning and whimpering mess, you smirks, keeping that pace up, making you scream his name as you squirt all over his face and chest.
“Every time I fuck this tight pussy, I want you to tell me what feels good. I will not stop until I have you a moaning and screaming mess, love.”
imagine you’re with Ghost and you had just dumped your feelings, saying how you didn’t feel like you were the best looking person and how he should be with someone else, so he decides to fuck you in front of a mirror
he’s praising you and shit saying how pretty you look, keep your eyes on yourself through the mirror
“I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do.”
Or his spirit just possess random people lol
I’ve seen some talk of this, and I’d like to join in. We all know that going on tour for months at a time can be exhausting. The ghouls are all drained and feel distant from their elements, so take my thoughts my darlings 🤲
Mountain bolts off of the bus and straight into the forest that surrounds the abbey. He’ll stay there for a few days, not a word is heard from him. Eventually, he returns covered in the earth with a dopey smile on his face. He’s covered in dirt from head to toe, sticks and leaves are knitted into his messy hair, and in desperate need of a bath.
You’ll find Rain at the bottom of the lake, completely naked, taking a needed nap or out in a storm. No one notices he’s gone until he comes back soaked after the storm has calmed, or he shows up with a few pieces of seaweed scattered across him.
Dew and Sunny will stay outside all day. Basking in the suns rays until it serves no more pleasure. When that does happen, they’ll start a fire in the common area and curl up together in the fire. The next morning they’ll be covered in ash, yawning and stretching as they crawl out from the fireplace.
Our lovely air ladies have to wait a little before having their full recharge. They can get some energy by enjoying the cool breeze of the day, but really get recharged when there’s a storm. A weather announcement will pop up on the tv and before you register it, they’re out the door. They all bathe and take care of each other afterwards, cuddling up into one of their beds and enjoying the rest of their night.
Now what do Swiss and our quint baby do? All of the other ghouls are recharged and full of energy, and they’re left tired and exhausted. They plan an annual after ritual cuddle fuck party in the common area and drag the two there. They’ll pull them down and get them comfortable. Swiss will be situated with Dew and the girls, meanwhile Phantom is squished between Rain and Mountain. The left over energy from the rest of the ghouls pour out of them, feeding into the their own. Within an hour, they’re both purring messes, finally getting what they needed.
Sodo/Dew
- quite short compared to the rest of the band.
- he’s got a habit of eating shit he’s not supposed to.
- He’s got a slim and somewhat bony build.
Water Element: The same as I see Rain. The light grey skin but with sapphire tones here and there. Long, black hair with a few faint lines of a deep shade of blue. Small fins on his ear, the same as the slightly larger fin on his tail. The horns that sit on his head fade into that same sapphire tone. They’re long and beautifully sharp. His eyes a dark grey with hints of blue and gold. The cold, soothing touch that any water ghoul would have. The soft padding’s of his fingers gave a soothing feel to anyone he touched.
Fire Element: The grey color of his skin turned a darker shade with tones of gold and red. His once dark hair, turnt white with hints of dark grey. The fins on his ears and tail molted away, leaving his tail ashy. His ears pointed, darkest at the tips. A bright fire flickers at the end of the ghouls tail when he becomes aggravated. The once beautiful horns cracked into a smaller, more dull form. His eyes, glow red and gold through the darkness of the ghouls den. The emotion and pain always shone in his eyes. His body could warm anyone just by a slight touch.
Rain
- More in the middle of the ghouls heights, but is still fairly tall.
- he LOVES sea animals (has a collection of stuffed sea animals)
- he’s slightly muscular, but still lean.
His skin is a light shade of grey with splotches of sky blue. Gills lay on the sides of his neck, always exposed. His dark, loose curled hair lies slightly above his jaw. Stripes of light grey flow and blend with the rest of his hair which he, normally, wears in a small bun. The small fins on his ears flick at the slightest sounds. His horns slightly curl back, sharing the same grey-sapphire tone as the rest of his skin. His tail is mostly grey with blue at the very beginning. His eyes are a bright, ocean blue color with a few darker speckles here and there. The ghoul’s saliva can heal and soothe any ghouls injury, with the extra help of an earth ghoul.
Aether
- tied at the second tallest ghoul with Swiss.
- could fall asleep anywhere if he wanted to
- Buff boy with squish, love him (perfect pillow)
His skin is a very dark shade of grey with black and dark purple trickled down his body. His hands and arms are always decorated in jewelry. His dark hair is normally messily slicked back, a few strands always hand over his forehead. He has a slight stubble across his jaw and chin. His long, pointed ears fade to a pitch black nearing the end. His horns are long, thick, and oh so smooth. His tail is almost black and is always touching something. His eyes are normally a grey-ish purple. When he uses his quintessence, his eyes glow a very light rainbow. Any quintessence ghoul can feel and extract any pain, anxiety, or thoughts anyone may experience. They can either take it on themselves, or share it with the earth. Unlike other quintessence ghouls, Aether can reach into someone’s mind and alter their perception, giving them a light mindset.
Phantom/Aeon
- right in the middle of Rain and Dew’s height. Perfect for anyone, really.
- has a really bad habit of picking at his tail (rain and mountain are always helping him)
- he’s definitely squishy, the boy loves munching (especially mountains cakes)
His skin shares the same pattern as Aether, but a bit lighter. Freckles scattered across his face, shoulders, and back. They look almost like small galaxies on his soft skin. Pure white streaks flow though his dark, messy hair. (Let’s be honest, this poor boy doesn’t know how to take care of himself yet..) His ears are still very small and a bit droopy. They share the same tones as his skin. His horns on the other hand, are quite long. They curl back a little more than Dew’s. They faded into a light grey at the end as they grew. His tail is the same as Aether and is always wrapped around someone (mostly Aether and Aurora). His eyes are almost pitch black until he uses his quintessence. When he used it for the first time everyone was quite taken back because of his eyes. They were oh so beautiful. A small galaxy in his eyes shone as he experimented on Aether. Phantom, or Aeon, is a little similar to Aether with his quintessence. He can loosen every muscle in the body, making them feel as though they’re floating. If one of the ghouls ever felt stiff, they immediately went to him. (not Dew though, he’s stubborn.)
Mountain
- the tallest ghoul (used as a base for cuddle piles, which he enjoys very much)
- he hits his head on everything
- a lean build with slight muscle
His skin is the perfect shade of grey with both light and dark freckles everywhere. All of the ghouls love tracing over them. His hair is dark brown and very soft. Besides Dew, he takes the most care of his hair. His ears are small and pointy. There’s a small snip of his ear missing from an accident during a ritual. His horns are a bit smaller than Aether’s. He decorates them will charms and trinkets he’s collected from fans. His tail is the same as his skin, but the spade of his tail is a bit chipped. He has sleepy green eyes that no one could get mad at. When using his element, he can make any antidote for injuries from the palms of his hands.
Swiss
- Tied with Aether for second tallest ghoul, and he hates it.
- hes very touchy (especially with dew cause he knows it pisses him off)
- muscular, works out in his free time
Swiss’s skin is a dark-ish grey with some parts of his body faded in white. His hair is a very dark shade of brown, almost black. He has a stubble on his chin, which he try’s to maintain. His ears are long and dull, painted black at the tips. His lobes are stretched from the gauges he wears. His horns are dotted with multiple colors, being a multi ghoul and all. They’re curved back and dull. His tail is the exact same as his horns, but a bit lighter. His eyes match his horns and tail, spotted with all kinds of colors. His eyes and horns slightly glow when he sings or uses any instrument. His voice can easily soothe anyone to sleep, including Dew. (crazy, ik)
The Ghoulettes
Cirrus
- She’s the tallest ghoulette, and everyone loves her (dommy mommy lowkey…)
- she loves spicy food (literally the only thing she eats)
- Slim and curvy (her biceps are impressive as well)
She has light grey skin with a dark grey surrounding her eyes. Her hair is a blue-ish grey color. It’s always neatly styled compared to Cumulus. She uses a clip to hold it back during rehearsals so it doesn’t get in her eyes. Her ears are a little droopy with dark grey tips. Cirrus’s horns are a bit different than everyone else’s. They’re curved and pressed back, almost like a cats ears. They’re a pretty grey, a bit darker than her skin. Her tail is dark grey at the base and lighter at the tip. Her eyes a dark grey with specks of white.
Cumulus
- She’s the third tallest ghoul, just below Sunny and Cirrus
- scares the shit out of everyone (not joking, her footsteps are light as shit.
- THICC QUEEN, curves and all
Her skin is almost white flushed with a light grey-blue color. She has a few beauty marks on her face, and she loves them (an absolute baddie). Her hair is very messy, but knotless. She’s a go with the flow type of ghoul. Her horns are a light grey and are curled back slightly. Her ears are wide and dull. She has a few piercings on each of her ears. Her tail is smooth and aerodynamic, considering her element is air. Her eyes are almost pure white with rings of sky blue. If anyone needs to cool something down or dry anything off, she’s the ghoul. Her breath is icy and can chill anything or anyone.
Sunshine
- She’s almost the same height as Cirrus, but she doesn’t mind.
- she’s very hyper (zoomies 24/7)
- Slim and lean build
Her skin is a medium toned grey with splotches of a sheer red and orange. Her hair is short, curly, and wild. It’s a dark ginger color with small streaks of a blond-ish tone. Her horns and very short and slightly curled. They share the same color of her skin, getting lighter near the tips. Her ears are very droopy and sun kissed at the ends. Her tail is very thin and it coils a bit. It’s the same colors as her skin. Her eyes are a bright amber color with brown rings circling her pupil.
Aurora/Wisp
- definitely the shortest of the entire band, everyone adores her and her sweet voice
- she’s a morning person (she wakes everyone up on accident)
- A little stubby and curvy, but has crazy leg strength
Her skin is near the same color as Swiss’s, but with random pops of light pink (no one can explain why). Her hair is long and straight. It fades from white to a very sheer pink. She keeps it in bubble braids unless she’s sleeping. Her ears are more rounded with the smallest point. They’re splotches with pink at the very tips of her ears. Her horns are very small and curved back. They share the same tones as her skin, just a bit brighter. Her tail is almost entirely black besides one pink dot in the middle of her tail. She has the cutest pink puppy dog eyes. (no one can say no to her, ever)
(this is the first thing I’ve ever posted so be nice to me 🙏)