#ghost thots

[charnelhouse]

I saw this picture on Pinterest and thought it was cute. Then I wonder does Ghost know how to braid? and if he does would he help Red Fox braid her hair before they go on a mission? Btw, you're my favorite writer on Tumblr ❤️❤️❤️

"What are you doing?"

Ghost's hands tug and pull at your hair insistently. He looms behind you, close enough you can hear his relaxed breath, his thumping heart.

"It's a safety hazard."

"I'll just shove it in a bun."

"No."

You scowl, crossing your arms over your chest while Ghost finishes braiding your hair. When you scan the room, you realize that everyone is staring. Soap and Gaz are whispering to each other, lips twitching with amusement while the former passes a thin wad of cash to the latter.

Heat rushes beneath your flesh, feverish and overwhelming, and, out of instinct, you attempt to step away from your Lieutenant. It's a lost cause. Your hair is snug in his gloved hands, and he doesn't budge. You're stuck to him.

"Almost done," he says quietly as he loops a band around the end.

It is only a moment. His knuckles brush against the nape of your neck, nimble fingers gently swiping the bare skin. You inhale sharply and Ghost releases you.

[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.

[sea-beam]

its not you either 🏔

[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."

[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

[charnelhouse]

ok but this part: ‘Think she’s seen his face?” Gaz suddenly asks. The question hangs there between the three of them. When Soap hears Ghost laugh softly again, Soap thinks it’s more likely than not. I YELLED I SCREAMED no like ghost showing red his face? how would that even come about like god it’s basically equivalent to him saying i love u be mine forever :,) need that hulk of a man in my life idc if he’s a game character.

just imagine, she's bleeding out, dying, fingers trembling around his wrist as Ghost cradles her to his chest, accent descending into something so thick no one can discern the words and "don'tchu fuckin' dare, red. you stay with me. you hold on. i will come after you if you leave me." and he's frantic - losing it - running out of options and so he just shoves his mask off to give her his face and her eyes brighten, lips curling into a pained smile painted in blood and Ghost, shudders, only able to speak in chewed-off, stunted fragments encased in desperation because he's got nothing else:

look at me. you stay. you stay with me. that's it. that's all you have to do.

[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

[jasontoddslittletoe]

Silly thoughts. Like Simon’s head whipping towards the direction of your pretty little voice trying to catch his attention.

Begging to fix the car that had just broken down five minutes from his shop. Thanking him for even considering to follow you to that damn Camaro.

With zero money in your pockets, and only 25 bucks on your card he offered to fix it up for you free of charge.

But that ended up in thick fingers pushing the pink sundress to rest on your hips as his drove into your sobbing cunt, balls smacking against your thighs with each deep thrust. Completely stretching you out, ruining you for any potential competition.

Fisting thick curls into his palm, tugging your head back to meet his slightly fucked out face.

“Hasn’t even been that long n’ you’re makin’ a fuckin’ mess mama.” :(

[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...”

[velvetchrry]

hockey player!ghoap x smm!reader thoughts

just thinking about how you’re a social media manager for a new hockey expansion team. johnny and simon — who grew up playing hockey together — both got drafted to the pros but have never played on a team together before. they’re both selected for this new franchise — the first time they’ve played together since they were kids.

simon is a defenseman. big, hulking — he’s the guy that's going to initiate fights with the players that are picking on his teammates. you aren’t going to get away with a dirty hit when he's around — he will retaliate. he will dish out a big clean hit when they think they’re safe. especially if it’s johnny. he’s the team enforcer, but still a talented defenseman.

johnny is your center star. he’s wicked fast on the ice, and is always showing off with plays you think are near impossible. he’s surprisingly humble — giving credit where credits due, passing to his teammates when they’re open instead of taking a wild shot himself. he’s the chatty one, always talking up the press during intermission and after the games over.

(and ofc we have gaz as a winger and price as the old goaltender close to retirement, who just can’t give up the game yet)

you were hired with a batch of social media managers in order to promote this new team to the locals. you want to attract season ticket holders. you want people excited for the upcoming season. you want people to meet their players — even though most of them have a history on the ice.

you’re really good at your job. your main job is keeping up with the videos and pictures of the team and players — creating the content that gets posted. your coworkers laswell responds to the fan tweets and comments — she’s got more of a knack for that, where you have the creative eye.

part of your job is getting to know the players and getting them to open up to you on camera, especially when you’re recording. you have them follow along to the latest tiktok trends, record practice sessions and even what time everyone shows up to the arena (simon is early, price is right on time, gaz and johnny are running late). normally your job would be staying on home ice — not following the team when they’re away — but to keep up with content the owners request you specifically go along. it’s been a total hit online and tickets are selling like hotcakes.

you start to really get to know the team — you fly with them and stay in the same hotels. you’re with them at every practice. they start requesting you be the dj at practice even. it helps loosen them up. you get great content. you joke with them. you even stand at the bench during games. (content content content)

johnny of course chats you up first. he's easily to film and he’s your star. he’s the one generating the views and likes and hearts and comments. he’s the one everyone’s excited to see. he’s the first to jump on a new trend you want to film and he’ll encourage everyone to do the same. he’s the only reason that you get simon to be on camera. (and he still won’t go on camera much, rather you have to get shots of him on the ice)

they do their best to include you in everything, but especially when they’re at an away game. if the boys are going out for dinner, johnny will make simon knock on your hotel room door and convince you to join. (you don’t take a lot of convincing, however johnny has to pour simon a stiff bourbon to work up the courage to go ask you). you’re included in celebrations when the team wins. they drag you to one of the guy’s houses for a private dinner and drinks.

johnny and simon start to separately invite you to things — just the two of them. it’ll start off as johnny acting like he has a great new idea for content. he and simon did grow up together, they are best friends. they could have a great little segment together.

but it turns into more. they sit on either side of you. johnny brushes a hand against your thigh and rests it there. simon has an arm on the back of your chair, always keeping his body in the way of any potential threats. always keeping you safe. their sweet little puck slut princess. their hands are all over you by the end of the night.

they take you to a shared hotel room — after all it would be irresponsible for any of your to drive home. and johnny and simon share everything. they’re happy to share a room.

they’re happy to share you.

[moongreenlight]

Simon Riley is the WORST dirty talker on planet earth. Like so bad you have to tell him to shut up or else you’re not going to finish. However, he fucking lays it down crazy style.

Johnny on the other hand? He should win trophies for his dirty talk. Knows just how to charm you out of your skivvies with just a few carefully chosen words. Unfortunately the best he can offer you is 3-5 minutes of astonishingly one-sided missionary with a noteworthy *barely pull out in time and finish on your stomach.*