#british ghosts

[axle-hates-zucchini]

He’s me fr

[wombywoo]

wedding bells 💒

[yooo-lets-go]

Good to see you again Simon

[huariqueje]

Night Shift , Ghost Owl - Lara Cobden , 2024.

British , b. 1971 -

Oil on linen , 100 x 100 cm.

[mactavishenjoyer]

Rudy: "Why do you argue with Ghost all the time?"

Rudy:"aren't you scared of him?"

Soap:"he's British."

Soap:"there's nothing scary about the British."

Rudy:"but he-"

Soap:"just listen to him talk for 5 seconds and you'll realize how non intimidating British people are."

[pretend-of-beginning]

i think if bbc ghosts was a cartoon the captain would have a really big mustache and it would cover his mouth like a classic animated dad

[mactavishsgfandwife]

Thinking About Sleepy Sex With Ghost 💘

mindless vanilla smut mdni <3

him holding you to his bare chest, softly moaning into your ear, his big rough hands moving down your body

"mmm… baby, i’m sleepy…" you whisper

"i know… just let me have you, lovie… t’ll help you fall asleep," he teases, lips curling softly into a grin as they nibble at your ear. he pulls you close to him and slowly grinds his hard cock against your clothed ass, groaning low into your hair.

"love you… i love ya… such a pretty girl f’me…" he murmurs, moving back and forth behind you at a slow pace.

"you gonna take me, huh?" a smirk plays on his lips between gentle moans, exerting his frustrations by grinding against you, desperate and pining for more.

and when he gets what he wants, he moves slow and deep. softly panting from behind you, giving your neck and jaw long, deep kisses that’ll leave marks the next morning. he loves being inside of you, and he really doesn’t want to leave.

"might jus’ stay here all night… so warm and tight f’me, such a sweet girl…"

unabashedly filthy thanks for reading!

[licollisa]

Casper (1995)

[nevertem]

[h00tzz]

Hiiiii Ghosts fanssss

(🦗🦗🦗)

[killerpancakeburger]

Bluebeard's wife

SUMMARY: On a visit to your boyfriend, you end up having to deal with a creep on base, but Soap and Ghost's methods of resolving your problem are... far more drastic than yours.

PAIRING: Soap x f!Reader (and BFF!Ghost)

TAGS: Dark content, Badass!Reader, Established relationship, Dark! a bit yandere! Soap, Dark! a bit yandere! Ghost.

WARNINGS: Canon violence, blood mention, sexual harassment, insults. Soap and Ghost are acting creepy but not towards Reader.

WORDS COUNT: 1,1k words.

A/N: Was thinking about how high the risks of sexual assault are in the military for women + about how much the Task Force could get away with (Soap's mohawk is NOT standard issue lol), but it turned out kinda dark. Not my usual kind of content. This is my first time writting those characters, pls be indulgent.

Your elbow connects with the man’s nose with a satisfying crack.

Immediately he howls, pressing his broken nose with one hand, blood dripping between his fingers.

“FUCK! What the fuck! You broke my nose, you crazy bitch!”

This. This is why you didn’t want to meet the Task Force on base. There was always one brainless fucker who didn’t get the memo that, no, despite having breasts, you weren’t here as a comfort woman.

The private is glaring at you with a hatred as deep as it is sudden, one that screams murder.

The only good side of the situation is, with how loud he’s being, you won’t even need to call for help. Already most of the soldiers nearby are staring at you, muttering among themselves. Not that you can’t beat this guy up on your own, but the military tends to frown upon civilians roughing up their members, you learned it at your expense quite early. On the other hand, soldiers settling accounts between each other was… well, not exactly authorized, but it was way less trouble for you.

He grabs you by the collar, his rage only exacerbated by your composure. The action stains your clothing with his blood. You mentally grimace. You’re no stranger to blood, but the idea of this repulsive individual’s bodily fluids being anywhere on your person is disgusting. 

“Are you listening, you dumb bitch!? I’m gonna fucking kill-”

The venom-filled verbal onslaught stops dead as a hand takes hold of your assailant’s wrist.

“Now, now, at ease, soldier. Ya making a spectacle of yourself.”

The thickly accented voice of your boyfriend sends a wave of warmth in your chest. 

Your harasser hesitates a second too long, so Soap makes the decision for him, tightening his grasp until the soldier winces, and finally takes the hint, letting you go and taking a few steps backward. Johnny immediately positions himself between the two of you, shielding you.

He’s been smiling the whole time, but it’s the kind of dangerous smile you wear when you’re about to give an asshole a righteous beating.

The private looks partially sheepish, but not defeated, indignation burning in his eyes. He lets loose a torrent of justifications and excuses, actively painting you as the villain, not caring if he contradicts himself in the process. You don’t pay attention to the details of his speech. It’s always the same “she was asking for it” kind of diatribe. The fact that he sincerely believes that there’s a chance that Soap will take his side instead of yours is laughable, but not surprising. 

You wonder how long this will go on, until the private notices something next to you, and all blood seems to desert his face as his voice deserts his vocal cords. 

You turn your head and, to no surprise to you, Ghost is there. He stands so close to you that your arms are almost touching. Clothed entirely in black, which brings out the white skull on his mask, his presence is as menacing as ever; all he needs to do is scowl at lesser soldiers to make them cower in fear. He doesn’t look back at you, but his support for you is so obvious through the rest of his behavior that he doesn’t need to.

Soap takes advantage of the newfound silence to turn to you.

“Ya good, yeah?” He asks, cradling your cheek tenderly, and stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. 

The question is futile - if you were hurt, he would have noticed right away. But it’s still cute to see.

“Yeah. Not a scratch.” you smile.

“That’s my girl”, he smiles back. “So, what the bloody hell happened here?”

You glance at the private behind him. He’s shaking, and the look he sends you back is begging for mercy. Remembering the first words he addressed to you earlier, you realize you’re all out of mercy for today. Thus, with a sadistic little smile, you recount the events.

“This man came to me complaining that I was unfairly privileging Sergeant Mctavish and that he wanted his turn. Then when I explained that I wasn’t some kind of free-for-all buffet, he took it the wrong way and put his hands on me. That’s when I exploded his nose.”

By the time you finish your explanation, Soap’s expression has darkened considerably.

“I see.” is all that leaves his mouth. Anyone familiar with him would know that for him to start talking by monosyllables like Ghost, something must be very wrong.

Pivoting again, he faces the private and, as the latter opens his mouth to plead for forgiveness, punches him right in the face. Blood gushes, drops of it landing on his face. You mentally count until three, one for every blow, and when Soap still doesn’t stop punching, you frown, disturbed and worried by his conduct. He’s never been one to remain impassive in the face of injustice, easily riled-up even in critical situations and despite his superiors’ orders, but you’ve never seen him go this far. 

You’re about to intervene when Ghost beats you to it, putting a hand on his sergeant’s shoulder. That’s right. Ghost, the voice of reason, the paragon of self-control, their cold-hearted leader, will fix everything.

However when you hear the next words that leave his mouth, it’s like the world tilted on its axis.

“Not out in the open, Johnny.”

The words are whispered low enough that only Soap and you would have heard. They send a cold shiver down your spine. Rattled and unsettled in a way that they never made you feel before, you contemplate the situation in silent incredulity.

“Aye, L.T.”, replies Soap with an abnormally monotonous tone.

Before you can ask what the fuck is happening, he proceeds to punch the soldier so hard in the stomach that the latter collapses without a sound, except for the muffled noise of someone winded. The scene makes you increasingly uncomfortable. You feel like Bluebeard's newest wife, having stumbled upon the one room you were forbidden from entering, having witnessed something you weren't supposed to see, and now you can never go back to how things were before.

You counted on Soap and Ghost’s intervention, sure, but you expected them to put an end to the fight, maybe intimidate the guy a little, and ultimately end things here. You didn’t expect… whatever this is.

Staring in shock at the two Special Forces, you shake your head to get a grip and come closer.

“Alright guys, I think he’s had enough-”

Ghost interrupts you with a hand on your shoulder. The Ghost touching two people in less than five minutes? Yes, something’s seriously wrong. Looking at him, you try to convey urgency with your gaze…

“Simon, this isn’t-” 

…but his next words make you lose hope of winning this argument.

“Easy there, love. Johnny’s takin’ care of it, ya don’t need to worry ‘bout a thing.”

The next thing you know, he presses a hand against your lower back, making you leave the premises, completely ignoring the way you stare at him in utter disbelief… and growing apprehension. 

He had never called you “love” before.

[weirdlookindog]

“Oh, long and weary is our way”

Joseph Noel Paton (1821-1901) - Elfinland Wud

illustration from Samuel Carter Hall's 'The Book of British Ballads', 1842

source

[wombywoo]

SPF baby~ 🧴

[yooo-lets-go]

Oooh how do Ghost and Soap get together in your stories???

Smooth operator

[myfandomistingling]

October has been very giving...

[bug-bites]

thinking abt simon "ghost" "acts of service" riley

like in my head he isn't too fond of physical touch. he wont burst into tears and start crying and shaking if you hug him but its very much reserved for the very few people who are close to him. its not that he's scared of it or it makes him super uncomfortable, its just he has other ways of showing people he loves them!

he's the type of guy who when you're getting to know him, listens and remembers every detail you tell him, and makes mental notes of your dislikes and likes w/o you having to tell him.

he takes cold showers every day and when you ask him he just tells you "its better, wakes me up in the mornings" but its really because he knows you like taking hot showers from all the times he's walked into the washroom once you're done and noticed the mirror all fogged up from the steam. he just wants to make sure you dont run out of hot water

in a passing conversation you mention feeling a bit sick, maybe its the change in weather or your allergies acting up but you just really are hoping it isnt a cold. simon doesnt say much but later you find a small ziploc baggie of peeled orange slices with a sticky note with your name on on it

when you go out together and you're a little underdressed for the weather he notices the goosebumps on your arms and how you constantly are rubbing them with your hands, trying to subtly warm yourself from the friction. you dont do a good job however because he glances at you and lets out a small sigh

"what did i say before heading out" "bring a jumper..." you mumble in response "and what did you do?" he crosses his arms over his chest but he isn't mad or annoyed, not in the slightest "not bring a jumper"

it feels like you're on the verge of being lectured but simon just rolls his eyes and gestures you to follow him. you're lead to his car and he opens the trunk, tossing you a black zip up sweater. he's scolding you somewhat, saying that "this is why you're getting sick" and other nonsense and you're lucky he "forgot" to take that sweater out of the trunk or boot because hes bri'ish. you happily take it and put it on because you're not about to turn down a sweater when you're freezing also its from simon and it just looks so comfy! it's definitely big on you because lets face it, simon is built like an industrial freezer, but the material is soft and cozy, with the added bonus of smelling like him. you thank him for the sweater and carry on with your day, not thinking much of it. truth is, however, he always has that extra sweater in his car for you. makes sure its there before you two go anywhere, neatly folded and tucked into the back. he would never admit it though he's such a pussy

when asked about his little favours he does for you he constantly pulls excuses from his ass, saying its just a coincidence that he had those things or literally anything to hide that he goes out of his way to do it for you. he cares about you, he actually cares a lot about you but he's just a tiny bit embarrassed to admit it. he loves you so much but he doesn't want you to think he's like kicking his legs and giggling over the thought of you even though he probably has at some point but you dont need to know that

he thinks he's sooooo subtle and sneaky about it but when you fall asleep and you wake up with a sweater over top of you like a blanket that a) you are 100% sure doesn't belong to you and b) has "S. Riley" written in sharpie on the tag (with a tiny skull doodle next to it), theres no way in hell you can be oblivious to how much he cares about you.