#ghost thots

[ghostlyprincesspup]

pussy like the Bermuda triangle, depending how you come in you'll either have the time of your life or never be seen again

[charnelhouse]

Can vouch large men holding their tiny babies is absolutely heart-melting. I also feel like Ghost would 100% hold his babies on his forearm like this or with their head cradled in his hand.

He 100% holds the baby like this

[ghostlyprincesspup]

Agree with all of this. Long history of SI here and the difference for me is in why I want the injury and what emotions are attached. If I feel like self-harming I avoid playing with sharps, because I want the kink experience to be its own thing about intimacy/sensation/aesthetic/power/whatever it's about. I do my best to make sure it's not me wanting pain because I'm upset or numbed out or feeling like I don't deserve softness and care.

TL;DR: go slow, go gentle, communicate. Notice the difference in feelings you have and want from kink cuts vs SI. They'll help you build a new positive mental spot for The Kink and over time it'll separate more from The History. Best luck 🖤

It took me a while to get used to the idea that I could do the same thing in a different mindset and be okay (I was worried it'd tip me back into old habits, + that I was just making excuses to hurt myself), but taking things Slow and really noticing the associated feelings has been super helpful. It feels Very different to get hurt with the focus being on heightening sensation/pleasure than it does to get hurt with the focus on harm, and clocking those differences helps me keep bdsm/si apart in my head.

Pay attention to your feels in the aftermath, too. Make sure you're getting the care you need from yourself and your peeps, remember even if it involves suffering all this kink stuff should ultimately feel fulfilling for you. Building a collection of positive cutting experiences over time will help shift it into a new mental category 🖤

Learning about the ins and outs of skin, injury + healing can also help shift it from "self harm" to "safety skills", and is just good (essential imo) to do if you're gonna be getting hurt or hurting others. Also when I learn the technical side of a skill I gain another, less emotionally-fueled perspective on the action of it, which is really dang helpful for beefing up that new brain category. "Cutting (SI) [unfun]" will still exist, but so will "Cutting (Kink) [fun]" and you can keep adding to it.

Be so kind to yourself, start small, be safe. Better to take a break and come back later than to push into something you're not actually up for. I hope this makes some kinda sense and I'm proud of ya 🤟

for your cutting guide id be interested to see if you have any thoughts on how to deal with it mentally? coming from a self harm background but now sexual cutting is a kink those two can be really hard for me to deal with so like idk?

I had no idea how to answer this so here are thoughts by my wife @silly-babyy who did self harm a lot and also enjoys me cutting them as a sexual act

"Think of it like a venn diagram; one one side you have self harm and the other side you have cutting as part of sex. The only thing overlapping is that your flesh is getting cut. Every other part is different. The headspace is different, the circumstances are different, the cutting tool can be different. Where one is about depression the other is about pleasure "

So I guess my thoughts are try to build that wall between them, go slowly, communicate openly with the person cutting you, don't be scared to safeword if it gets too much. I probably won't address this in my primer because I'll be focusing on mechanics but I appreciate you reaching out.

Opening this up to the floor, if anyone else has experience with both and would like to add their thoughts they are very welcome

[shotmrmiller]

thinking about being simon's link even though he's your superior because he needs a way to let off some steam that isn't him handing you your arse on a silver platter during spars and at first it's only after some real stressful missions.

he's rougher then, his hips snapping with a ferocity that makes your teeth clack together but it gets him to be civil by morning and you get one too many body wracking orgasms too.

win win.

he doesn't interact with you any more differently than before, eyes flat as you walk past even though you've got a bit of an awkward gait thanks to him and that works just as well because the last thing you need is soap giving you a hard time for fucking the one guy you complained about the most while you were still breaking in your boots.

and then you find yourself unable to keep him out of your pants during an op; bent over a table in a safe house, his hands curled around the strap of your vest, on your gloved hands and padded knees while waiting for price's next orders, a quick romp against the wall right before having to sit pretty and make eye contact with gaz in the helo. (he pulls out during these times, can't have you running after someone with his spend still dripping warm between your legs.)

things were fine for a while. your arse was safe from any unnecessary bruising, your toy sat retired in your nightstand drawer and you had no nosy men in your business, although it is strange that no one's mentioned anything. both you and simon have gone missing and later walk into a room together enough times to arouse suspicion but no. nothing. not a peep out of soap, a side eye from price or a raunchy joke from gaz.

good. great, even.

until soap stomps your way one crispy morning, grumbling under his breath before swiping the mug from your hands to take a sip of your coffee. "ye get in a fight er somethin'?"

what does he mean?

"ghost is in a mood today. not to be crass, bonnie, but if ye could, uh, fuck 'im in tranquility- we 'ave somewhere t'be today."

he finishes the rest of your drink, giving it a 3 out of 5 stars then shoots you a smile. "thanks, hen."

oaf. that'd been the last of the coffee.

it's only after you're left thoroughly worn out, thighs slick with cum, that you quietly bring up that johnny knows.

(he'd been right, though. you'd barely stepped a foot through the door before simon had you writhing beneath him, fucking you like he hated you)

"knows about wha'?" he mutters, smoke furling and twisting around his bare face.

this.

simon hums, unbothered. "so he does." he turns back go his gun, the familiar sound of the metal clicking and sliding filling the silence.

(kyle is the one that tells you that simon had been the one to out the two of you. he was markin' his territory, doll. nothin' out o' the ordinary, yeah?)

[sea-beam]

its not you either 🏔

[angelatsumu]

bedtime with olderboyfriend!simon <3

thinking of older!boyfriend!simon who says “lights off” before turning off your nightstand and leaving you to scroll endlessly on your phone in the dark. he thinks it’s an indicator that you should be going to bed, but once he’s rolled over he can still hear the incessant tapping of your fingernails scrolling through each video and image on your feed. he clears his throat, hoping you’d get the hint. when he hears the clatter of nails again, he grunts at you. “phones off too, pup. y’know damn well it’s jus’ gonna ruin your sleep,” he huffs matter-of-factly, and you whine a little protest before conceding. you place your phone down next to your lover’s and curl up under the covers beside him.

[eddiesghxst]

rockstar!eddie who only sees you when he’s in your city. doesn’t tell you when, doesn’t hit you up or anything— you really only know he’s coming because of the plethora of billboards and ads that pop up around the time of the performance.

and he doesn’t even really have to call you to let you know he’ll be coming over, you just know— as soon as eddie lands in your city, you’re his.

that’s how it is, that’s how it’s always been.

and you don’t exactly think you’re the only girl. the only one he flees to when he touches down in a new city— but you’re glad you’re his girl for this city. out of the millions of people he could’ve chose in your town, he chose you and that’s enough to get you to open your door for him post show, let him smoke all your shit and spend hours fucking you.

you don’t bother going to the shows— you did once, hated the scene of bitchy groupies that throw themselves at him and you never went again.

so he just comes to you.

probably doesn’t even bother taking a shower or wiping off all that sweat and liquor from another hectic show, just books it straight to you.

plays house with you for a day or two. calls you his girl, fucks you hard and rough and then slow and soft and then rough again. he says he missed you, doesn’t know how he lasted a year without your pussy, swears he’ll lose his mind if he goes that long without seeing you again. snaps a few photos of you. some cute and wholesome, naked and shying away from the lens with the sun beaming through your window. and the others are raunchy, dirty and gross. you split open on his cock, spread open for him. you on your knees for him, worshiping his cock. you cumming on his tongue. you with his necklace swaying between your tits, sweaty and bruised up neck on display.

he keeps them. tucks them in his pants. probably forgets they’re even there, honestly, only remembers them when they fall out in the next city as he’s pulling his pants back up after fucking some random girl.

feels his chest twist up, thinks about booking a flight to you because despite the fact that he’s a fucking player to his core, he really does have a soft spot for you. you really are his girl. his number one girl, best of them all.

doesn’t matter though. because even though you’re eddie’s girl, he still leaves you for another year. it’s just easier this way, really.

[konigsblog]

all good mutts listen to their owner, pup. quit whining to simon, spread your thighs and arch that back, spread your pretty pussy for him to jerk off to, not touching your pretty little body while you cry and plead for any form of stimulation.

getting your cunt rubbed by his large, heavy boots wasn't something you expected, desperate begging for pleasure. the tip of his military issued boots grazing your swollen, wet clit tauntingly, leading you to crying pathetically :(

what a filthy, dumb pup !!!

[ghostedbunnie]

my mind is buzzing with being a little bit of a brat to price. nsfw under the cut.

hear me out, price comes back from missions and he's ready to hibernate with you in his grip like a bear ready to for the deep winter sleep. and no it's not negotiable, you are going to be right there in his arms.

but then he wakes up to his dick throbbing while rubbing against your ass and suddenly he doesn't need any sleep but he is still kinda sluggish so he makes you do the work. sit on his dick, ride it, work up a sweat while he enjoys the view, cops a feel of your tits bouncing and your ass and thighs. but you're whining, calling him an old man who makes you do all the work.

and he let's it slide, patience honed by years in the military service with the biggest asshats the world has ever seen. until you say, "ugh maybe I should ask someone else to fuck me properly." and that's a mistake. you know it the second the words leave your mouth because his eyes harden, the grip of his big warm hands on your hips is almost bruising.

"is tha' so, doll." and you take it all back, you didn't really mean it, it's just the frustration of not being able to cum. and suddenly the world spins, he got you on your back pinned like a butterfly on a collector's wall.

"i'll make you cum then. you won't stop until i say so." he shoves a pillow under your hips, pulls them higher and drives into you in one thrust. your hands can't find a purchase on his body so you grip the sheets, moaning, tears already collecting in the corner of your eyes. john only looks down at you with a mean smile, "time i teach you some manners."

[charnelhouse]

Do you have any headcanons for what Ghost is like in a relationship? Or any little idiosyncrasies you think he has

Protective

Giving

To be in a relationship with this guy means that you both are already beyond close/intimate. He’s opened up to you in some way/told you about his past

He doesn’t like having to emotionally rely on you bc he feels like a burden so you have to convince him

He tried to please you whether that’s attempting to make you dinner or taking you somewhere you’ve wanted to go

Orgasms in the morning

In the night too

In the middle of night also

he probably watches you sleep a lot tbh

[cyberstrife]

Compilation of Copia noises throughout the Chapter videos, enjoy

[kechiwrites]

Gaz fucks you til you're incoherent

Soap fucks you til you beg him to stop

Price fucks you til you pass out completely

Ghost fucks you until he's done

[tiddygame]

ghost’s civilian wardrobe is nothing but hawaiian shirts. soap is in utter disbelief the first time he sees it. ghost says they’re good bc:

it’s so fucking ugly, no one can stand to look at it for too long so he doesn’t draw attention

No one thinks the ghost would wear something so bright and stupid meaning he’s completely under cover every time he’s on leave

they’re cheap and an easy thrift

but he just really fucking likes how goddamn ugly they are

…

at least, that’s what he tells soap. and himself. in reality, they were always tommy’s thing. he always wore them to the point everyone knew that the safest gift to get him was the ugliest patterned shirts they could find. in every family photo, tommy was the easiest to spot with the brightest eye sore worn proudly with a smile.

after that cold night in december, all of their stuff was either donated or thrown away.

one day, ghost was thrift shopping (because even though now he had more money, habits from being raised in a poor home die hard) and saw one of them. he froze. at first, he thought it was just one that looked similar. but when he inspected it, it even had that old tear tommy had gotten simon to fix and sew up for him.

he grabbed it in a daze. he searched every rack in that store and found a few more hawaiian shirts. if they were tommy’s or not didn’t matter. he bought them. for days, he hunted through every thrift store in town buying every stupid patterned shirt he saw.

knowing that the few shirts he collected was the only thing he had left of his baby brother finally broke him. he probably looked insane, sitting in his old beat up pickup truck, surrounded by shopping bags from different stores, crying into a yellow and orange button up with flowers on it, and one sewn up tear on the sleeve. but it was tommy’s. and it was all he had.

at first, they were hidden away in a box. he lied to himself that it was because he wanted to keep them safe, but in reality, he couldn’t look at them without either wanting to cry or punch holes in the wall.

but, one christmas, he finally pulls his head out of his ass and grabs them. visits the cemetery in a stupid yellow and orange monstrosity of a shirt and complains that tommy couldn’t have had a better fashion sense.

he wears another when he has to go grocery shopping. and again when he runs errands. and again. and again. and again.

the first time one of them got something on it, he almost cried and pulled every trick his mother taught him about removing stains. the shadow of it persisted but the pattern covered most of it.

eventually, they became a staple of his wardrobe.

years later, soap watched ghosts careful routine he had for washing the shirts. they were always washed separately on delicate and air dried with routine inspections for any holes or tears. it would click later, when finding an old family photo, one with a young boy on simon’s shoulders and another man next to him in a familiar yellow and orange shirt, that perhaps simon hadn’t been entirely truthful when he said he just liked them.

simon was scared the first time soap did his laundry, but johnny always washed them with the same level of care, following the exact same routine. he still made fun of him (lovingly, of course), saying that crimes against fashion must run in the family.

…

and further down the line, years later, they will be old and graying with wrinkles, wearing matching hawaiian shirts. johnny will complain about how ugly they are yet will still wear it happily (and tune out simon reminding him that it was johnnys idea to start matching)

[angelatsumu]

thinking of husband!simon who can't get enough of making you cum. nsfw under the cut. | husband!simon, overstimulation (kinda), fingering

“surely you can give me another, lovie” your husband taunts you, eyes peering at your reflection in the mirror. he’s got your legs spread for him, trapped under his own legs as his fingers—middle and ring—find themselves curled deep within your cunt. he’s smirking at you teasingly while your head’s rested against his shoulder. normally he hates when your eyes break contact with his, but today he allows your brief reprieve from his gaze because he’s feeling generous. truthfully speaking, he knows he’ll be asking for ‘just one more’ at least two more times before you’re boneless before him. your lover curls his fingers along the spongy cushion buried within your walls, prodding the soft material with a coy grin splayed across his features. his eyes are sharp as he watches your hips wriggle against the assault in a weak attempt to free yourself. he’s feeling generous, so he lets that silly little action go unpunished. he figures he’ll tax you for each offense; give him one more for his troubles, sweet girl. you whine at the intoxicating thrusts of his digits against you, body overheating as the coil within your abdomen winds tight. the sounds of your squelching cunt makes your cheeks heat with embarrassment, only worsened with the teasing lilt of your husband’s filthy words in your ear. “doin’ so good for me, sweet girl. ‘s almost too much isn’t it, baby?” he sounds like pure sin, panting as though the sheer feel of your cunt squeezing his fingers would do him in. you both know it would; your lover could cum with the sheer feel of your cunt spasming around his tongue, let alone his fingers. he’s hard against your ass, and each wiggle and writhe of your sweet hips making him grunt deeply against your skin. the tightening in your cunt alongside the soft moans of his name let your lover know you’re so close to the edge, so close that you can practically already taste it. he knows, and he makes sure you reach that peak quicker by circling your hard, throbbing clit with his thumb. “oh, sweet girl,” your husband coos at you as your orgasms crests, leaving you trembling in his grasp. Simon’s a bit cruel with the way he thrusts his fingers harder against that sweet spot while spewing filthily in your ear. it’s too much, always too much when he’s this sexy and all yours before him. as you ride out your orgasm, he coaxes you into rocking your hips against his thick fingers. “ride my hand baby, watch yourself ride my fuckin’ hand,” he moans in your ear, free hand gripping your jaw and forcing your gaze to your reflection in the mirror. the sight is enough to have your cunt squeezing his fingers so tight he could barely move, huffs and whines slipping from your pretty lips while he continues his assault on your overstimulated cunt. “please, Si” you whimper with warmed cheeks, eyes pleadingly looking into his own. he lets out a gruff groan, relishing in the tears that speckle your lash line. “just one more,”he lies to you, and you whimper softly knowing it’d be far more than one before you were done.

a/n: rbs + likes greatly appreciated. also, taking requests. also also, if you'd like the insanely long (and kinda fanon/self-indulgent) oneshot i wrote for halloween!simon, lmk

[bellasfortuna]

more last minute brainrot thots before bed

Simon is the type to just hook a finger in one of your belt loops and tug, bodily moving you where he wants (usually closer to him or into him)

vs.

König's missed belt loop, that never seems to get strung through, makes me want to loop my hand around his belt and tug him, fruitlessly or not

[konigsblog]

any more thoughts on piercer simon, you have me in a chokehold with him

☆‧₊˚. piercer simon thots

(☆‧₊˚.) — piercer!simon absolutely adores making his little client feel all stupid. he'll chuckle at your questions on how to take care of it, telling you to come on over to his apartment and he'd make sure to treat you well... although, he's does more than clean your piercing. instead fucking you slowly and sloppily, splitting you apart on his cock while toying with the clit piercing cruelly and in a painful manner, all whilst cooing at you for being sensitive...

“don’t cry, pretty girl. i know-- sore, yeah?’ you’re strong, c’mon-- able to take this big cock so well but can’t handle a little’ roughin’ up?--mhmmm’, yeah, i know, lovie--ya’ look so good like this, god, need ya’ all to m’self...”

(☆‧₊˚.) — piercer!simon absolutely adores teasing your clit piercing with his wet tip. rubbing it back and forth while you sob from him tugging on it, your face buried in his shoulder, standing infront of him whilst he's towering above you, pulling you against him so he can rub back and forth against the metal piercing, coating in his sticky, slick cum.

“my whiney, sweet thing’.. stand still, yeah? god-- you’re drippin’, sweet one.”

(☆‧₊˚.) — piercer!simon would give you nipple piercing so he could slide his big, hard shaft back and forth between your tits whilst pressing them together, one hand toying with your piercings!

piercer!simon having you ride him instead of paying because he prefers it and thinks that he deserves to be pleasured, don't you? he grunts out, sucking on your hardened, wet nipple, his tongue lapping back and forth over the metal, cold piercing, coating it in sloppy, wet saliva!

“don’t’cha love ridin’ this cock, hmm?’ lookin’ pretty when you’re takin’ this dick, ‘specially those piercings on those pretty nipples...”