#being broody wouldn't be so bad if I wasn't single

[fairy-grotto]

hey so why the fuck did no one tell me that you hit a certain age and then cyclically want children? Like monthly?

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Ghost x City Girl Reader

No pair of people hated each other more than you and Ghost. To him, you were just another loud-mouthed, obnoxious, and immature little princess needing to be humbled. To you, he was just a boring, broody asshole hellbent on not liking you. Things between you two couldn't be any worse. And then, tonight happens…

NSFW 18+ Eventual Smut, Porn with Plot, Romance, Drama, Clubbing, Dirty Dancing, Mentions of Alcohol, Slight Slow Burn, Hatemance, Jealousy, Bickering, Teasing, Flirting, Reader is a mean girl, Ghost is an asshole, but the chemistry's there, Slowly gets steamier as it goes, slight hints of Reader x Gaz, 'cause why not

Word Count: 4.2k

Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Masterlist

A/N: Finally finished this (was super nervous to post this for some reason)! This was inspired after binge-watching a shit ton of Bad Girl's Club on Tubi. I just know Ghost and a City Girl wouldn't get along at first, but I love dynamics that look like they wouldn't work. Part two is where the smut is, but I like build-up and stuff, so I turned a one-shot smut piece into a two-parter. I hope you enjoy ू(ʚ̴̶̷́ .̠ ʚ̴̶̷̥̀ ू)

"Ayy~" You rest your hands on your knees in a joyous fashion, readying yourself to start shaking your ass. "Let's get it bitch!"

Music blared on the club speakers, the crowd growing hyped as the sounds of Pink Panties from Baby Keem serenaded the drunken patrons all looking to have a good night.

That third daiquiri had caught up to you, your mind buzzing and your heart racing. The swell of the crowd dancing around you puts you in a euphoric trance. All you can comprehend is the warmth in the air, the taste of alcohol behind your teeth, and the way the beat makes your skin vibrate as you dance.

Your face expresses every bit of the drunken euphoria you were feeling, letting it bring your hands seductively down your body, pulling in any who dare come, if they're brave enough.

You and the rest of 141 came just at the perfect time; the club was just starting to get busy but it hadn't yet grown too packed. Chatter and laughter picked up and the music got better the more you drank. The vibe was just right…

…Almost.

Across from the dance floor, at the corner of the bar where he'd been standing all night, Ghost watches you dance, unamused, with dark eyes leering at you from afar.

He observes the way your hips sway to the music like it were his own, private video. All night he's been watching you, his gaze lingering just a little longer each time; though, it hadn't been any less unwelcoming.

If he watched any longer he might just excuse himself, so that he may relieve the tension that's built between you. Deep down he knew you knew that too. It's thus created a notable, stormy cloud over his head all night, one you undoubtedly took joy in seeing.

Your eyes play with him across the sea of dancing heads between you, taunting him, teasing him, and letting him know just how much better than him you thought you were. The same eyes he's grown accustomed to for a long time now.

Codename: Spice. He couldn't think of a more fitting name for such a hot-headed woman, seeing as "Bitch" wasn't acceptable. You joined the team maybe a year or so ago. Much too long for Ghost to have counted.

When Laswell initially brought you in, the entire Task Force was in an UPROAR. You'd been a well-decorated soldier, to say the least, however, what merits and awards you held almost paled in comparison to the rap sheet of complaints and discrepancies you possessed.

Fighting. Disobedience. Disorderly Conduct. Fraternization. Etcetera. Etcetera.

And as if that weren't enough, you were a complete and utter bitch as well. Especially to Ghost, who you've singled out in particular. If defending your country was your day job, then being the thorn in Ghost's side had become your newest evening hobby.

Any chance you had, you were picking on the man. Your comments teetered back and forth between being harsh and petty, and once you knew he didn't like you, you just doubled down on the behavior. And it didn't matter what approach the man took to this; he could ignore you, or he could get loud, but nothing deterred you.

It wasn't often that someone got under Ghost's skin; he always did model himself on control and discipline. With all the horrible people he's managed to meet in his lifetime (and not even being in his mid 30's yet either), naturally, it would take a lot to truly irritate the man. And by no means were you the worse person he's ever interacted with before either.

But you've always been more akin to that of a tick; any time you got a chance to get under his skin, you dug in, and you dug deep.

Ghost would applaud you for how intensive you were with your pettiness. Nearly as cold, ruthless, and calculated with that as you were with your enemies on the field. God forbid someone actually steps up to you, less they suffer a broken nose or a black eye. You were Queen B and you wanted everyone to know it.

Ghost, however, was less than interested in feeding into your silly little ego.

Even now, your eyes haven't left Ghost's since you started dancing again, time moving at a snail's pace in your gazes. Knowing that the sight of you pisses him off.

Right then, as you danced, some poor woman made an attempt at courting him as he sat alone, brooding to himself. You never were one to diss a girl's taste, you guess. Not out loud, at least.

This woman, wearing her ill-fitted skirt and tacky make-up, had been getting sloppy drunk with her friends in a corner for the last hour, eyeing Ghost from across the bar just as long. At some point, she thought it'd be a wise time to swoop in and make her move.

Ghost notices this because he's now felt a stranger's hand touch his arm. Had he not looked first to see who it was, he would have been seconds away from instinctually sending his elbow back to flex their hand from him, which would have definitely connected with the woman's face.

The woman practically jolts once she sees she's startled him, however, she attempts to cover it with a laugh. "Hi," she greets.

"Can I help you?" Ghost asks, though he couldn't sound any less interested.

"I was just over there with my friends and-"

"You should get back to them."

A state of shock whiplashes on her face before she huffs and stomps back over to her friends. Ghost didn't even watch as she left; he had more pressing matters to attend to.

You smirk at Ghost, seeing this from where you dance. The man makes it so easy to push his buttons, just look at him. He doesn't even look like he wants to be here tonight, more dressed like he was about to rob a bank than go out drinking with his mates.

Frankly, you're shocked he even showed up. Clubs seemed like the last place you'd catch him, and you were right. However, Gaz and Soap giving the lieutenant a hard time as of late finally pushed him into coming out with everyone. And of course, it had to be on the night you got to choose the spot too. You'd been sick of dive bars and small get-togethers, however, so you chose a club in a heartbeat, naysayers be damned.

"Hey Kyle~" You wave for Gaz, catching his eye in the crowd. He and Soap had both been drinking just as much as you since arriving, getting dragged off by every single woman within a five-foot radius of them.

You lost Soap fifteen minutes ago, and here Gaz was now, having been able to finally rid himself of his unwanted groupies. Good thing too; you need someone to dance on, and you wanted to give your lieutenant a show.

Gaz has already grooved his way over to you the second your eyes invited him over. Lord knows he's wanted a piece since you arrived, though you saved the real promiscuity for men outside your workplace; less messy that way. You'll gladly have them chase you though.

Once in reach, you bring your arms to his shoulders and wrap them loosely around his neck, smelling the Gin and Tonic on his breath and the citrus scent of his cologne, though it's since been mixed with an array of other colognes and perfumes. His hands find your sides, settling into your hips, with drunken smiles growing between you the more comfortable you grew.

What were once innocent brushes of the legs and hip twirling, soon devolves into something a little less PG. Before long you've both found your rhythm, swaying your hips along to the music and moving together as one unit.

You whip your body around, grinding your ass against Gaz, pressing yourself back roughly against him. You make sure he can hear you laugh at him after you've heard the little gasp he let out too. However, you can play with more than one person at a time, and the Sergeant hadn't been the only one you were playing with at the moment.

The whole time, you've kept your eyes locked on the lieutenant's from across the floor, a devilish smile forming. Had Soap not bumped into Ghost suddenly, who's to say how long Ghost would have spent watching you, his bourbon held sternly in his gloved hand.

"Ghost!" Soap bellows out, cheeks a rosy pink from his drink, and lips painted in a large grin. The man had certainly been attempting to give you a run for your money in terms of enjoying himself tonight. The smeared lipstick stains near the base of his neck only said as much. Both men and women tonight had been swooning over his accent and muscles since he stepped foot in the building. Ghost had already written the man off for the night altogether.

"Still standin' 'ere all by yer lonesome, L.T.?"

"Been the best seat in the house," Ghost says dryly.

Soap follows Ghost's gaze, until he's found you on the dance floor with your eyes closed and your head cocked back, Gaz's head buried in the crook of your neck. Immediately, he knows what's going on, having seen this before.

"Tsk. Tsk. What a she-devil," Soap shakes his head. "Poor lad."

"Should know better by now," Ghost comments. "Girls like that love bein' teases."

Oh, Soap knows already; he learned that the hard way the last time you all went out drinking and you sent him home with the deepest set of blue balls he's ever felt in his life. "Aye," he sighs.

"I've no idea what you lot see in 'er," Ghost says.

"Eh, she's not so bad once you get to know her," Soap shrugs. "You two are a lot more alike than you think."

"I doubt that," Ghost turned back around at the bar, settling in his seat and placing his drink back on the counter. Soap had been ready to join him, however, some tiny woman that's been attached to his hip all night returned (who also conveniently wore the same shade of lipstick as what was smeared on his neck), pulling his attention away. Before long, the lieutenant was alone once more.

You two are a lot more alike than you think.

Now that's a joke. Ghost can't imagine you've gone through even half of what he's been through. Still, it wasn't like you two have ever actually sat down and talked to one another before. It seems nigh impossible to.

Though it wasn't for a lack of trying on your end.

The presence of another human at Ghost's side brings his eyes drearily over, until they've begrudgingly fallen onto you. It seems you grew bored of dancing, and now decided to take your teasing to the source itself.

"Enjoy the show?" you ask him teasingly, knowing you'll most likely not receive a reply, which you don't. Ghost doesn't even fully face you, keeping his eyes pointed ahead of himself at the bar. He hadn't been looking to talk, and it's not like his reply would change anything you had to say. You did invite yourself over.

"You know, Manchester," You lean against the bar, looking up at the man, just close enough to hear him over the club music and smell the cologne and cigarette smoke on him. "Instead of starin' like a creep, why don't you actually take that stick out your ass and come dance."

Now you're just taking the piss. Ghost finally gives you a look, though he wishes he hadn't. Up close, he's seeing this skimpy little, lowcut tight dress you've got on, with your fishnet stockings and heels. The black choker around your neck was simple, and just begging for someone to tug it off you, and the lipgloss you wore looked like it tasted sweet on your tongue.

Years of training and experience are everything it takes to keep his eyes from dropping any lower than your collarbone. Just in his peripherals, Ghost can see how bouncy and voluptuous they sat in your dress.

You got this cocky look on your face now. "I'll dance with you."

Ghost scoffs. "Not a chance."

"Aw, I get it," you say sarcastically. "I wouldn't want to embarrass myself out there either."

"This place can only handle so much of that with you already out there."

This conversation felt as old as time between you two. If it wasn't you being catty and mean, then it was Ghost being aloof and guarded. While you knew he had been implying your little performance on the dance floor earlier, you were as quick with your tongue as your lieutenant.

And you can't lie, you'd been itching for some good banter all night. You'll take it from anyone, even from the likes of Ghost.

"Please," you laugh. "As if your big ass could actually move out there. I bet you can't even do the two-step."

"I'm sure you'd wanna know," Ghost says.

You reach over, and by your own boundless curiosity, take his drink, inviting yourself to a sip. The bourbon burns your throat as you swallow, your nose scrunching. You smile as you see Ghost's gaze razor focus on your lips pressing to the cool glass of his drink, taking a small sip and letting your tongue chase its remnants over your bottom lip. It's just the way he does so, so unabashedly, that you can't help but giggle at.

"I already know everything I need to, honey."

Ghost turns his body to fully face you now, his massive height over you only now becoming apparent by the shadow it casts. It's intimidated most of the women at the club tonight, whenever Ghost wouldn't just do it himself. No such thing went on with you, however.

He's been sitting here by himself all night, and as much as he could list a plethora of others he'd prefer to be standing here with at the moment, he had you. If you'd use him for your own uncaring amusement, then he'll do the same, since you want to bring that side out of him so badly.

"And what's that?" he asks.

"That you're boring as fuck and have a stick up your ass," you say bluntly. Of course, Ghost didn't expect any less from you. You do this sober, just with less pep to your speech, unlike now. "Though I'm sure you're already aware of that."

"How original," Ghost says dryly. "It take you long to think that one up?"

"I only tell it like I see it."

"Wha' then," Ghost's gaze turns stone cold, doing all it can not to give you a way in. "Gaz wasn't enough? Now you've come to make yourself easy pickin's for the next sorry lad lookin' for an easy lay?"

"Ooo, feisty." You lean in now, resting your hand on the bar counter so you could prop yourself up, giving yourself what little height you can against your unmoving opponent.

"I wouldn't fuck you if you paid me," you say.

"I wouldn't fuck you for charity."

"I wouldn't fuck you if my life depended on it," you shoot back. "As if you could even handle me, Manchester."

"What's there to handle?" he taunts. "You're nothin' but talk. You bark like a bitch and puff your chest, but it's all show. Just a way to make yourself feel big. No surprise you make yourself the local slag; any lad with some sense surely wouldn't bother."

Oh, that comment strikes a nerve; you feel your eyebrow twitch and your blood begin to simmer the second he closes his stupid, British mouth.

"Who're you callin' a bitch and a slag?" You step up now like there's a problem now. "How about you come back with some new material when you can actually talk to me without that little safety blanket on your face, Manchester. It's easy to talk shit when you've got something to hide behind. And you call me unoriginal."

You take his drink and pour it out on the counter now, watching it spill over the surface and drip onto the floor. When you meet his gaze again, if looks could kill, you'd both be dead. You just wasted a good cup of fucking bourbon.

"Do somethin' about it," you taunt him.

He steps forward, and for a small second, you think the man might actually do something. However, it had merely been an intimidation tactic, a warning. He stops just a few inches shy of you, keeping his strong arms crossed over his chest.

Ghost would love to, oh, believe him. It's taking all of him not to say something really foul to you and truly ruin the whole night for everyone. And you don't stop at the drink either.

You step even closer now, keeping your head cocked back and your eyes on him. You're close enough now to feel the body heat bouncing off from him, vibrating the more irritated he grew.

"Do something," you say again. "You just gonna let some slag pour your drink out like that?"

You raise your hand up as though you're about to smack him, and that's what finally gets him to move. Ghost catches your tiny wrist in his hand, his grip tight as he holds you there.

"What the fuck-" You grimace at first, your fight-or-flight instincts telling you to try and tug your hand out of his grip and use your other to sock him straight. However, something differently entirely occurs in you suddenly.

You take a moment to really feel his hand on your wrist, how the slightest adjustment of his thumb made a chill trickle up your arm, and that he was the closest he's ever stood next to you outside of work. The man might irritate you, and he was an asshole, but Goddamn did he have an inviting pair of hands and some magnetic eyes on him. Eyes that seemed just as curious to outline all the makings of your figure.

You kind of liked it.

He must like it too, judging from how he hasn't made any attempts at letting go. But there had been a million different things running through his mind right now, all of which made him question himself.

He thought about all the ways he could overpower you right now; you gab on like you're big, and there were so many times he's just wanted to remind you of your size. Small enough to be bound and at his mercy if he so pleased. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but the thought sounded intriguing.

Your arm settles in his strong grip, your eyelids lowering as you look his masked face up and down, trying to observe his dark eyes in the dim lights. They look to you, trying to guess your next move, though even you couldn't be sure.

You take your other hand and you place it on his chest, just to see if you can. All this time you've known him, you've never actually done so before. You feel your fingers rest against him, and even beneath the fabric of his hoodie, you feel his heart racing.

The club music finally dies down, preparing to switch to its next song. With maybe just a few inches of space between you, it feels as though it's only the two of you in this entire room at this moment.

But just then, you're interrupted. Soap wasn't too far away and must have started picking up on the vibe's shifting, because he couldn't cut between the two of you fast enough.

"Alright," he steps between you two, a drunken smile still on his face. "That'll do you two."

His presence does little to take your eyes off each other, merely looking through the Sergeant, still trying to see if either one of you would say something else. As expected, it's you who does first.

"We were just about to dance," you look over at Ghost with a playful smile. "Isn't that right, Manchester?"

Ghost looks down at you. He almost wants to say no. However, he found himself curious suddenly to see where you might take things. He hadn't felt quite done with you yet, himself.

"That's right."

Soap looks flabbergasted by this. "Yer gonna dance, L.T.?"

"We'll try not to make too much of a scene," you tease.

You take hold of Ghost's hand, feeling his grip tense in your grasp, as you pulled him out onto the dance floor. Woman by Doja Cat just started and you were ready to rock this man's world.

Even with everything going on around, heads turn as you both pass by, noticing the tall, masked figure making his way onto the dance floor with this overly enthusiastic party girl who looks nothing like his type.

You find a spot just on the edge of the crowd, where the lights were low and your team could not see you. Once there, you watch Ghost stand awkwardly, waiting for you to start moving first. It's not like you needed him to do much anyway.

You ease into your dance, beginning with light footwork and hip twirling, letting the music guide its rhythm through your legs. Ghost did an odd shuffle to start, not doing much beyond moving his feet. Once he grew more comfortable, however, you learned that he could in fact do the two-step... If you sucked all the atmosphere out of it at least.

The music picks up, and you bring your hands up to his muscular shoulders, gently resting them there similarly to how you did with Gaz earlier. Only unlike the Sergeant, Ghost seemed reluctant to fully give in to your charms. He wouldn't even bring himself to touch you, just letting you use him like a pole.

You bring your head in close, shouting over the music so that he can hear you, "You're an asshole, you know."

Ghost rolls his eyes. "You're a bitch."

Growing impatient, you boldly take his hands and place them on your hips for him, feeling your skin tingle as his fingers settle against your hipbones. The hesitancy subsides once you start guiding him along with you slowly, easing him into the high tempo of the music.

"And proud of it."

You turn around and press yourself to the lieutenant, feeling your ass brush against his jeans and the grunt that leaves his chest. All he's left with now is the smell of the shampoo you'd used in your hair and the shape of your bottom against his groin. You tell him, "I'm not here to impress you."

He leans in, until you've felt his masked lips brush against the shell of your ear. His voice all but rumbles through you, "And I'm not here to entertain you."

"Aren't you?" You bend over, bringing your hands to your ankles and seductively sliding them back up your legs, and making sure each time you made your ass shake that he could feel it even through his jeans. You'd give anything to see his face right now. "Say what you want," you tease. "I don't give a fuck."

This time he doesn't shy away from letting his hands slide alongside you, stopping just at your waist so that you can still move yourself freely against him. "Yeah, you do," he all but says in a seductive growl. "Why else are we here now?"

You tilt your head back and look up to find Ghost's eyes leering down at you, half-lidded. You watch him slowly start to lose himself, his mind chasing after that brief feeling of arousal you shot through him each time you pressed yourself to him.

"I don't know," you take hold of Ghost's hands again, only this time when you rest them back at your hips, you keep your hands there, holding them. "But it takes two to dance, Manchester."

"Let's dance then."

Once the words subsided, and the club music drowned out any and everything else on the dance floor, the only thing that could be felt was the ecstasy of Ghost's body pressed so close to yours. His large hands explore your small form smoothly, letting you slide your own hands up his arms, feeling his warmth of him. He molds into your movements easily, eyes never leaving yours, with battered breaths shared between you.

Your hands stretch above your head as your bottom hugs your black little dress tightly. The fabric stretches each time you drop your ass to give it another spin, lights bouncing off you both in a mesh of glittery purples and dark blues.

Every time they do you've felt you've seen a new side of Ghost. A side of him that felt hungry for something no good for him. Though he would be in good company; there wasn't a good man left in him to spare if you kept on him like you have been all night, both in body and tongue.

Had the song not come to an end, who's to say what parts of him you would have ground on next, or what parts of your body his hands would find themselves rhythmically groping.

You turn to the lieutenant, out of breath as he is. Of course, you had been moving your body much more than he. You suppose he can save that energy for later.

"You've got any smokes on you?" you ask him, though you both know where questions like that'll get you.

"Left 'em in my car."

"Why don't you give me one?"

Part Two

[your-sweet-cookies]

She chuckles and looks at him in a sultry way. "You can bet'cha. I am going to make you the happiest man alive, every single day!~" Kukki winks at him and clings onto the vampire's arm. For someone who hadn't had anyone before Fuji, she sure seemed to have quite the big appetite for intimacy. Maybe it was just a byproduct of having fallen in love with the man and being crazy about him. who knows? Either way, the prospect of sexy times every single day wasn't probably something that would've bothered him, especially not when Kukki was such a gorgeous woman. All her curves were natural too, so she was truly perfection. "Oh, but it's fine, babe. I'll just find my own ways of making you meow for me all cutely!~ Don't you worry that pretty head of yours about it!" She winks again and pecks his cheek, pressing her breasts against his arm as she gets up on her tippy toes to reach his face. She too knew that Fuji was going to do this and anything else that would make her happy anyways, even if he said he wasn't going to, because he loved her just as much as she loved him and Kukki was very grateful about it. "Tell me, would it really be that bad if you mewed for me?~ We'd both be playing the 'kitty cat' role, so it'd be fitting, plus, you'd be so cute! And really sexy if you growled too!~" The silver haired woman grins and her eyes catch a naughty look to them. "I for one wouldn't mind mewing for you all night long, like a good girl...~"

The man's reaction of checking his hair, as well as his comment, makes her snort. "Nah, I am not into hairy beasts. Frankly, I found Gaston really distasteful, so that should answer your question, since the man himself claimed that every inch of him was covered with hair." She can't help but laugh. "It was more a comment on the fact that I like the broody, unapproachable types that look all though, but deep down they are actually sugary sweet, since I am like that too in a way." Kukki continues and lets her hand slide down to his hand, intertwining their fingers together. "I guess I like that movie because it shows you that appearances can be really deceiving and that true love can sometimes appear when you least accept it. That all it takes is just some patience and understanding to get to really know the other person to form a bond that would last a lifetime..." She coos almost dreamily, the hopeless romantic side of her personality showing through right away.

"Pfft... You're really a lot into teasing, aren't you? But you better don't flirt with them too, cause I am not one who likes /sharing/ what's theirs." There was a note of possessiveness in her tone, but then she smirked at him and poked out her tongue. "Joking, I doubt you'd be the type to flirt with your people, since I feel like they're probably more like a brethren to you than anything." Kukki rests her head on his shoulder then. "I really hope that once I meet them, they'll accept me. I wouldn't be surprised if our relationship would probably seem odd to them... A human and a vampire so deeply in love with one another... It does sound like a cheesy romance novel. But I'll make sure to prove my worth to them, that I am worthy of being the girlfriend of their big boss!" She seemed rather confident about herself. Kukki then smiled at his shyness going on full display again. "Hmm... Then maybe I'll call you like that tonight, while I ride you!~ How does that sound, /dearest/?~" She teased again, clearly enjoying this game. "I do think it slightly suits you, that's why I was even considering starting a family with you. You are loyal, protective, and your love is true and pure, it shows through your gentle kindness towards me." She gently squeezes his hand in an affectionate manner. She then rolls her eyes at his comment about his blood being 'poison'. "Dunno, but I am willing to give you a taste at least. I love your kisses and your lips. Sure, I can feel the slight hint of the tabaco and booze aftertaste, but it's not unbearable or disgusting... It's unique, I guess and its yours, so I don't mind it, so I doubt I wouldn't find you /delicious/ from other points of view too."

Kukki then closes her eyes again at his touch. She enjoyed being touched by Fuji just as much as the vampire enjoyed the feeling of her skin underneath his fingertips. His touch was like an electrifying one, but in a good sense, sending pleasurable tingles and goosebumps through her body every time. "I am glad you let me in... Because you are not only warm, you are bright and cozy too. You feel like a safe space, a home I can return to." Kukki beams at him with adoring eyes, leaning closer into him to feel more of the sweet sensation of their bodies coming into contact. "Yes, your sexy vixen, your one and only.~" The way in which Fuji was calling her all those endearment nicknames back while also adding in the possessive particle of 'my' every time really did it for her, rendering her to feel so damn good as if she were on a high.

@anemia-rp

Fuji-san, I got you some fiji water! You should stay hydrated! Only drinking alcohol ain't good for your health!

You got me...what? People would rather offer me to drink their blood, so that's really new. You sure are something.