Chapter Text
"I told you, you’re mine to use whenever I fuckin’ feel like it." He bent you over a table; the room you’re in seems to be an office of sorts.
"Like a real gentleman," You teased as he pulled your cargos and panties down just past your ass, spreading your cheeks to admire the pink gem of the plug he put in you just hours ago.
The two of you have been sneaking around base ever since that first night after sparring. It seemed that almost every night, Ghost had somehow found you to do something—oral, vaginal, even anal. He no longer needed or wanted to masturbate, and when he found himself needing a release, he went to you.
He enjoyed making you feel small, like nothing, like mere dirt underneath his boot. You were useless to him in every way except one.
"You really can’t wait? Should we really be doing this here?" You had to bite back a moan through your words; Ghost was teasing you, running his fingers from your clit to your dripping hole, breaching slightly before moving once again. "What if- there’s a-an ambush?"
"Maybe someone else will fuckin’ bash your head in for me then," You whimpered as fear settled in your chest, a familiar feeling at times like this. Ghost had always been violent with his dirty talk, and you grew to enjoy it. Some deeply fucked-up part of you loved when he told you things like this. Though you’ve never done anything while on a mission, and that scared you more than anything. The thought that an enemy could easily stumble across the two of you, vulnerable, it was terrifying but arousing.
"But I’d never let anyone hurt you, sweetheart. That’s my job." He said as he placed a sickly sweet kiss on your back despite the fabric over his lips.
You nodded, a slight smile on your face from his words, though they were laced with a threat. Something about it made you feel good. The idea that Ghost would protect you from anyone and anything, making sure that the only person that could put you in danger was him, gave you butterflies, and you hated it.
Just because you and Ghost had a sexual relationship didn’t mean you despised the man any less; you’d even go so far as to say that you hate him more now. You hate the way you’ve become quite fond of him, the way you find yourself thinking about him late at night when you’re all alone, how you daydream about what he looks like under the mask, trying your hardest to map it out in your brain based off the lower half that you have seen, his eyes, and the shape of his nose underneath the mask. You’d find the courage to ask him to take it off one day.
You were pulled out of your thoughts when he shoved himself inside of you, groaning when you clenched around him. Simon often didn’t waste his time on foreplay; he was a patient man in any other situation, not when it came to you. There was never a time where you didn’t cum when you were with him, though he truly didn’t care if you did or not. He was a selfish lover, and he only used you as if you were a toy for him, but you weren’t complaining.
"Gotta be quiet for me, love." His large hand covered your mouth, his gloved fingers pushing past your lips, and you eagerly sucked on them. They tasted of gunpowder and sweat, but your mind was pure static, so you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. "That’s it, keep that mouth busy."
His other hand was tight on your hips, fingers digging into them, hard enough that there’d be bruises tomorrow, while he pulled your body flush against his. His thrusts were deep, he didn’t pull out much before pushing back in, and you swear if you were on your back, you could see the bulge in your stomach.
"Fuckin’ hell," He muttered as his thrusts got more intense, becoming more animalistic as he chased his high.
You might have been in your own world by now, but you still tried your best to be on high alert in case someone was near. So when you heard footsteps behind the door, you were thankful your soul didn’t completely leave your body.
"Ghost," Your voice was muffled by his fingers, but you continued speaking anyway. "Someone’s h-here,"
Everything happened so fast, the second the doorknob turned, Ghost pulled his gun out of his thigh holster and pointed it towards the door. He never even stopped fucking you, and when the man walked through the door, he didn’t get the chance to process what he saw before a bullet was put into his head, blood and brains splattered across the wall, the floor, the man left completely unrecognizable. One shot, and Ghost didn’t even look at the man to make it. It was so wrong to think, but it was incredibly attractive.
"C-close," You whimpered, gripping the edge of the table so hard that your knuckles were turning white. His arms wrapped around you, engulfing your body completely; you both were hot, sticky, sweaty, and even dirty from the mission, but you enjoyed his body heat and how he was so much bigger than you.
His fingers toyed with your clit, sending you over the edge. He came with you, feeling your walls flutter around his cock, pumping you full of his seed.
"Ghost, Chaos, how copy?" Price spoke through the comms. You didn’t bother replying, not having a real answer for what you were doing exactly.
"Cleared the building, searching for the intel now." Ghost replied, and it was eerie how calm his voice was, how normal he sounded, and how quickly he was able to come up with a lie.
"Exfil can’t wait much longer; hurry." Price stated before comms clicked off.
Ghost pulled out of you, pulling your trousers up for you. "Gotta go," He said, picking up his rifle and heading towards the door.
-
"Think we’re fuckin’ idiots, you two?" Gaz teased. Somehow, he and Soap brought up the ‘odd noises’ that came from various rooms throughout the base at night.
"You are idiots." Ghost replied, sipping his bourbon. It was a bit of a reoccurrence that the team would go out to the bar for drinks every Saturday, usually to celebrate a mission well done, sometimes just for the hell of it.
"I wasn’t gonnae say anythin’ but never eat on the table furthest to the right in the mess hall." Soap’s accent was thick from the copious amounts of whiskey and shots he’d been downing the entire night. He was always the one to get absolutely pissed when you visited the pub; you were all just his babysitters.
"You’ve done it on our fuckin’ tables?" Price scolded.
"Oh, they’ve done it everywhere, Cap," Your cheeks burned red hot; you or Ghost weren’t confirming or denying anything, though your silence was more of an admission than anything. "The gym, shooting range, Ghost’s office, your office,"
"My office?!" Price exclaimed, cutting off Gaz from going any further. A deep chuckle came from Ghost, looking over to see a smirk on his lips since his mask was pulled up to sip his drink.
Luckily, you were on the outside of the booth you were sitting in, easily able to slide out and walk away as you please. You stepped outside, needing a breath of fresh air, though you shivered when the cool night breeze hit your skin. Your eyes closed as you leaned against the cold brick wall. You were incredibly embarrassed, knowing that your teammates had not only heard but also walked in on you and your Lieutenant in your most vulnerable state.
"Want a smoke?" Ghost’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and when you opened your eyes, he was holding a lit cigarette and offering it to you.
You accepted the offer, taking it between your fingers and taking a drag; it quickly eased your nerves. "Thanks," You said, passing the cigarette back to the man.
He only grunted in response, finishing off the cigarette before lighting another one. He chain smoked often, likely a result of the overwhelming stress in his life.
"I feel like I should apologize," You turned to him; his eyes were closed as he leaned against the brick wall beside you.
"For what exactly?"
"I’m not sure."
He sighed. "None of this is your fault, sergeant. If anything, it’s mine. I’ve been reckless and unprofessional."
You were shocked by this. He was actually admitting something he might have done wrong; he was opening up to you.
"Well, I have quite enjoyed our reckless and unprofessional moments, if I’m honest, Simon." His eyes popped open at the use of his real name, something he only heard from you in the middle of sex or from Price when speaking about something of importance. It was definitely a weakness of his to hear it coming from you, though he’d never admit that.
"That’s pretty obvious, love." He paused, taking a hit from his cigarette, "I enjoy it as well."
"That’s pretty obvious, Lieutenant." You mocked, earning a glare from the man.
-
You and Ghost left the pub early. The excuse of being extremely tired was passed off to the three other men, though it was not believable. They weren’t wrong to think otherwise.
"Be so pretty with a slit throat, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?" He pressed his knife harder to your throat, piercing the skin just slightly, amused as your blood seeped out onto the blade and his fingers. "It’d just be another hole for me to fuck, yeah? Another way for me to use you like the pretty thing you are."
You whimpered at both the pain and the fear that settled in your chest with his words. You tried convincing yourself that he would never actually do it, but you were always aware of the chance that he really could.
"I’m just as capable of killing you, as you are of killing me." You said, pausing for quick breaths between your words.
"That’s cute, love." He pulled the knife away from your throat, and that’s when you saw an opening. From the beginning of your ‘relationship’, you’d wanted the chance to be a bit dominant with Ghost. Though he’d never given you the chance, and you didn’t know if that was something he was even interested in. But the only way to find out was to try.
You hooked your leg around his and flipped the two of you, which, admittedly, was a bit easier than you thought it would be. But if it was something he didn’t want to happen, then it wouldn’t have.
"Still think it’s cute?" You asked, pulling the knife you now keep in your boot, thanks to him, and pressing it against his throat.
"Fuckin’ adorable." His mask shifted slightly at the exact spot where his mouth is.
The fucker was smiling.
It was the first time you’d ever seen him show any kind of emotion. The crinkle of the skin around his eyes, the way they squinted—it was something you could watch all day, and you definitely wanted to see it again.
"You know, we’ve been doing this for a while, Simon." You tilted your head, using the knife to lift the fabric of his mask just a bit. "A girl gets curious about the face of the man who fucks her."
"Is that so?" The squint of his eyes never faded, and he stayed incredibly calm even with a blade against his throat. He even went as far as to let his hands roam around your sides, stopping at your thighs and squeezing occasionally. "Go ahead."
You nearly choked on pure air upon hearing those words. You didn’t expect him to actually be okay with showing you his face.
Still, you dropped the knife and wasted no time in pulling the mask off his face. And God, was he beautiful.
"Can I.. can I kiss you?" You asked. Though you’d kissed before, it was always angry and rushed, with probably way too much spit and teeth biting lips way too hard, but it was fitting for the mood. This felt different somehow.
There was some new emotion thrown into the mix. Undeniable trust.
"Since you asked so nicely," He sat up, your bodies pressing impossibly close, as he took your lips in a bruising kiss. It was still sloppy like the other kisses you’ve shared, but there was a certain tenderness behind this one.
"All mine." You muttered against his lips, and you could feel them curl up into a smile against yours.
"All yours. Whenever you want me, sweetheart." He assured, leaning his head back to bare his neck to you as your kisses traveled lower.
"Been waiting for you to do this, love. Realize I belong to you just as much as you do to me." He was breathless, speaking barely above a whisper as you marked him.
"Lucky you get to easily cover these." You said before biting the junction of his neck and shoulder, earning a deep groan from the man below you, nearly a growl.
The sounds he was making, the way you could feel his cock growing in his jeans, and the way his hands gripped your thighs and waist tighter when you worked on a specific spot on his skin made something snap inside of you.
You reached for your discarded knife from earlier, slicing through his shirt with ease. Luckily, he was lacking the usual layers he wore, deciding on civvies when he went to the pub. A tight shirt and blue jeans that drove you fucking wild.
"Want you to be mine forever, Simon." You said as your blade danced across his skin— his incredibly soft, scarred skin. "Wish I could fuckin’ carve your heart out and keep it forever."
"I’d die happy giving you my heart." He said, taking your free hand into his, bringing it to his lips, and pressing soft kisses to your knuckles.
"God, you’re fucking perfect, Si." You pressed the blade harder against his skin, slicing the flesh on his chest in the shape of your initials, right over his heart. You relished in the sounds he made—the slight whimpers that fell past his lips as the blade pierced his skin.
You were absolutely enamored with the sight before you—the blood dripping down his chest, watching the rise and fall of his now labored breathing. You leaned forward, pressing kisses to his new cuts, licking the blood, and quickly becoming addicted to the metallic taste.
"Just as fuckin’ mad as I am." He grabbed you by your jaw, taking your now blood-soaked lips in another kiss, tasting his blood on your tongue. "You drive me fuckin’ crazy. The way you make me feel is goddamn dangerous, you know that?"
He was rambling, something he only did when he was really in the moment; it had only happened once before, but you were happy to experience it again.
"I’d do anything for you. Die for you. Kill for you." He said between kisses and practically ripping off each others clothes. "I’m yours forever, my darling. The only one I’ll ever want."
"Make me yours, Simon." You said as you placed the knife in his hand, to which he wasted no time in carving his initials into your chest as well—a beautiful SR , carved over your heart, for the rest of your life.
Now bonded for eternity, even if for some reason you’d become separated, you’d have a permanent reminder of each other.
"You’re so pretty." His fingers swiped over the marks, your blood coating his fingers. Your hands were now covered in each other's blood, leaving trails of it in every new spot you touched each other, but you didn’t care; if anything, you were happy to be completely and entirely surrounded by everything that was him. And you could only hope that he felt the same.
"I need you." You nearly whined; now that you were both bare of any clothing, you were extremely aware of how his cock rested heavily against your thigh.
"You have me, my love." He assured, now taking his cock and positioning it at your hole before pushing himself inside, you both sighing at the feeling. "So fuckin’ wet already. All from what? Just from marking me, huh?"
"Yes," You breathed, sinking further onto him, your arms wrapped around his neck and your chests pressed together, your blood mixing as you became one. "Feels so good."
"I know, sweetheart." He cooed, his hips lifting to meet yours, groaning when he finally bottomed out, feeling the tip of his cock press against your cervix. "Gonna fill you up so good, knock you up real pretty. You’d like that, right, pretty girl? Like being so full of me?"
" Fuck , yes, Simon." You nearly sobbed while he guided your hips up and down on his cock. It wasn’t rushed or frantic like every other time he’s been inside you, but now it was somewhat slow and deep.
It was extremely intimate, him muttering praise in your ear while his hands roamed your soft skin. The blood covering your bodies starting to dry, your wounds already scabbing over, and your sweaty bodies began to stick to each other. But you didn’t care; all that mattered in the world was in the palm of your hand, and the thought that he could hurt you at any moment lingered in the back of your mind, but he didn’t . He wouldn’t , unless you asked him to.
He’d do everything in his power to keep you safe, to make sure that he was still the only danger in your life, the only one that was allowed to harm you. Though in this moment he wouldn’t dare, he handled you like a prize to be shown off, like you were made of pure porcelain, and one wrong move would cause you to shatter.
"So good for me. Taking it so well. Feel so fuckin’ good, babe." He whined , and that was nearly enough to send you over the edge in itself. "Fuck, I love you."
It was barely audible, so much so that you convinced yourself that you were hearing things.
"C-close. So close. Fuck , please."
"Go ahead, love." It was as if he could control your body, doing just as he said, right as he said it. You were trembling in his arms from the sheer intensity of your orgasm, panting and whining and moaning, not caring that people on the other side of the walls most definitely could hear every single thing.
"Fill me up, Si. Please. Give it to me." You begged as his thrusts became a bit more erratic, losing rhythm before stilling completely as he pumped you full of his seed, heavenly groans spilling past his lips.
He rubbed soothing circles into your skin as you lazily kissed any part of him that you could reach. You could feel how he was softening inside of you, but you didn’t want to move; you didn’t want the moment to end. You wanted to be one with him. If there was a way to crack open his ribcage and crawl inside forever, you’d take the opportunity in a heartbeat.
"I meant what I said." He muttered against your temple before leaving a chaste kiss there.
"Hm?"
"That I love you."
"Thought you hated me."
"Only hate you because I love you. You make me weak. Soft. It's fucking stupid, but I love it all the same. I love the way you make me feel. Like I’m finally human again." He confessed, and you felt your heart flutter at the admission.
He was being vulnerable with you.
He trusted you.
"I love you too, Simon."
Though it may not be the healthiest kind of love, it was true. You’d do anything for him, almost to a fault. He’d keep you safe while simultaneously putting you in the most danger you’ve ever been in, and that excited you.
You wanted to crawl into his chest and pick up all the broken pieces to put back together. You would put him back together, even if it was the last thing you did.
You stayed in each other's embrace for what seemed like hours, with copious bodily fluids drying on your skin and causing you to become sticky. It was absolutely disgusting, but you’ve never been happier.