Ghost X Male Reader - Blog Posts

love at first sight? nah fuck that, gimme love at first fight >>>>

imagine arguing with someone, expecting it to go exactly like all your other attempts of sparking a good fight where they'd back off after seeing an unsettling, eager, glint in your eyes.

But not them, they don't back down, they see that glint and challenge it head on.

imagine everyone else terrified watching you two, thinking you're about to kill each other as your words get sharper and sharper, vile words that would make soldiers cry being spat in a back and forth.

No one is too surprised when you two end up on the floor, but what does surprise them is the fact that even though both of you will definitely have black eyes in a few minutes and someone's bleeding, maybe it's both of you no one can tell, you both have shit eating grins, like children playing.

Because the two of you have finally found your match, someone who can take those venomous words and give something even more potent back, someone you can kick just to end up with a gut punch. It's like a game, a conversation for you both, your own language since everyone else thinks they need to call the police because they can't see that you're perfect for each other in all the worst ways.

tw:blood

i hate the taste of blood, makes me feel sick (one too many nosebleeds as a kid) but ngl, if i was kissing someone and there was blood involved......that's kinda hot.

this is kinda relating to my other post about fighting someone lol

imagine fighting someone, and you make their nose all bloodied and they split your lip and to make it up to each other you end up kissing, tasting both of your blood together

Would thou write a little accidentally shrinking Simon's mask in the washer 🗣️

yes, I shall write a tibbit of shrinking the scary mans mask.

You had been trying to do him a favour, seeing him return with blood all over the damn thing. You'd had to practically peel the mask away from him even after he'd reluctantly agreed to let you wash it. Your efforts, while valiant, halted when you realised doing it by hand with an old toothbrush and wet sponge was getting you nowhere. So, after cursing whatever material he uses for the skull, you put it in the washing machine, thinking nothing of it...until you were met with a glowering ghost, towering in the doorway which would almost be horror movie gold if it weren't for the fact he was stood with a mask that clung to his face, the holes for his eyes were strained, making them look almost comically large. You could see the shape of his nose and how it was being pushed down, almost flat. You hold in your fit of laughter and end up in a staring contest which definitely did not help your composure. "Y/N" He growled, but instead of responding with fear you sputtered out a laugh, the way his mask clung to his mouth muffled his voice more than usual and you could the fabric straining against his mouth, reminding of you of those sheet ghost costumes but drenched in water. And so you ran for your life. Simon was never going to let you wash his mask again.

(this was my first ask! i hope i did your idea justice!) :]

thinkin about ghost....again

this ones a little nsfw?it's not like...staight up porn but theres like suggestiveness, so just to be safe minors be gone. im serious 😑 like, you can read anything else on my blog but stay away from this okay?

Ghost who matches readers freak. He'll wake up in the mornings with small bites littered across his arms or you squeezing at his chest.

Ghost who absolutely melts when you play with his chest, at first it may be a somewhat innocent action but after a while he'll let out the most pathetic whine because you've accidentally worked him up, which means it's your problem to fix.

Ghost who you'd expect to not want any roughness after his harsh job but when it's you he loves it. He'll offer up his hand or arm instead when he sees you biting at your nails or peeling the skin.

Ghost who's grown to love that gnawing sensation when you just needed to feel a certain pressure on your teeth. He won't admit it but he loves it when he looks down and sees his chest and neck covered in bites and bruises.

Ghost who knows you're not trying to hurt him or cause him pain (at least not too much)

Ghost who will gladly let you tackle him to the ground and do a bit of roughousing with you because god you look hot when you're staring down at him with that grin. so to no one's surprise your little wrestling match on the floor escalates.

Immortal souls ch1

CW: uhh...this shits kinda sad ngl, death, details of injuries and said death, swearing, dont think there's anything too bad but let me know if there is

The day was bright as you lay in the field, the grass swaying softly against your face, exhausted from the day spent running around, completing errands for the villagers and then proceeding to goof off with simon. Simon, who was currently beside you in the cool blades of grass, your pinkie fingers hooked together, too embarrassed to properly hold hands. You both speak soft promises into the sky above, the blues and pinks of the lowering yet still bright sun being covered by the patchy pattern of leaves from the tree that you and Simon had taken shelter under, being the witness to your words.

The two of you began your daily walk back, all laughs and jokes, smiles and subtle flirts.

"hah! you should have seen the fruit stall owner! the way he was chasing after me just for a simple apple."

Simon recounts his adventures of the day before you had met up for the afternoon. You sigh playfully at your thief of a friend.

"honestly, si....what am i going to do with you, hm?"

Simon smirks, loving the sound of your nickname for him on your tongue, the way you shortened his name sounded so much better than the harsh way that everyone else says it. He's about to make a crude comment most likely but you both get interrupted as you see flames and hear the distant yet deafening cries of the fellow villagers that echoes through the once peaceful afternoon.

The two of you run, as fast as you could, desperate to help, lungs burning as they frantically search for oxygen in the thick smokey air. You frantically search for your family, friends or anyone who could explain this sudden chaos.Y

Through the smoke of your burning village you and Simon come across a group of men holding torches, wearing odd metal masks, armed with blades, arrows and spears, things you'd hardly seen before in the shelter of your peaceful village. Though you both knew that it could be nothing good.

You pause, never having been in such a life threatening situation before, your instincts and common sense weren't quite up to par and why should they be when all you've known was peace, the only chaos was when Simon stole something from the market.

"um...escuse me gentlemen? Do you know-"

Your polite and timid words are abruptly cut short as they shoot an arrow, the metal tip barely missing your widened eyes and instead causing your cheek to bleed. You were frozen, you felt like crying, being sick and running away all at once. The overwhelming feeling of having danger so suddenly thrown in your face. Luckily for you, Simon managed to snap out of his own trance, grabbing you tightly and pulling you along.

"come on! we need to go!"

You run to the forrest in hopes of losing the men, weaving through the old and and sturdy trees, memories of the times you and Simon would spend hours up in the branches briefly flash in your mind before being promptly tugged again by Simon to the side, your eyes catch a glimpse of the spear that had just about missed your head.

The heavy breathing of you both echoes through the darkening forrest, your warm breath creating clouds of vapour in the air, your lungs sting with the sharpness of adrenaline and exercise.

The strange men clad in metal and weapons can be heard, their chasing relentless, voices yelling at each other to guide more of them towards you. It goes silent for a few minutes, the only noise in the seemingly empty forrest being you and Simon's heavy breathing which you both desperately tried to quiet.

You and Simon turn to each other, a smile of relief on both your faces. You were finally safe, you began to think of all the ways to save the villagers, maybe you could find a nearby lord? Or maybe they'd just leave on their own?

But it doesn't take long until everything around you seems to go dull, that relief you felt just moments ago going cold, as you watch the spear tear through Simon's chest, the cracking noise of sharpened metal breaking bones and flesh of the man you adored embedded in your memories forever. You fall to the ground with him, almost as if you had been wounded yourself. The strange men seemed to believe so anyways as they left, not even checking if you two were dead, almost like this whole thing was just for their own sick enjoyment, enjoying the pain of families watching each other die, their only relief being the hope of seeing everyone in the afterlife.

As you fell to the floor everything felt dark, dull, an empty feeling of loss covered you. The moss on the forest floor was cool against the heat of your living body. You could see the way his eyes were fading, that beautiful brown that made you think of nature and warmth, going a ghostly grey. Your hands grasp onto him.

"no...no,.no, no... si! Please dont, you have to stay with me. Im begging you! I cant be without you...si, please"

A tight feeling in your heart takes away the rest of your breath, you can't speak properly anymore, only managing garbled pleas as if that would save the dying man in your arms, as if that would get rid of the spear in his back that pierced through his chest. Through your begging you still couldn't manage to utter those three words that you'd both been hanging off the edge of your tongues, those three words that was so obvious between you yet because they were never spoken neither of you dared to go further than friends.

The trees suddenly felt like they were watching, mocking you for your feeble love, laughing at how easily he was dying. They loomed over you, the bark twisting into cruel smiles as you begged Simon to stay with you.

He tries to brave a smile, barely breathing as he gets out his final words.

"god....I love it when you call me that"

And with that you saw the playful light drain from his eyes, that oh so beautiful brown gone pale.

You cried, you don't know for how long but you remember seeing the sun disappear in the corner of your eye more than once. As you cried your grip on Simon's icy body only got tighter, as if you could transfer your warmth to him to bring him back.

Thinkin about ghost....

Ghost who sleeps with his back pressed firmly against the wall because he's been shot in the back one too many times, leaving it unprotected while he sleeps feels like a death wish to him

Ghost who bundles up his blanket to cover his front. The last thought before he sleeps is 'i hope the blanket is thick enough to stop a knife at least.'

Ghost who sleeps facing the door and with the window in a few short steps at most. He watches the door until the very last second, until sleep overpowers his eyes and they fall shut.

Ghost...who when he shares the bed for the first time practically uses you as a shield since you insisted on sharing the blanket. So of course you are now the substitute for his blanket shield. perfectly reasonable.

Ghost who, one night, falls asleep with his back facing you, not pressed up against the wall though he's still facing the door because someone needs to keep both of you safe.

Ghost who would never admit that the feeling of you pressed against his back was a lot more pleasant than the hard, cold wall, maybe even comforting.

Ghost who now can fall asleep so easily next to you, belly exposed like animals do to show trust, because he knows when he wakes up the worst thing you've done to him is draw on him.

Ghost who feels safe enough to lower his guard while sleeping.

Immortal souls

I know i should be writing my other fics but...i got a new idea so here, have some scraps

Simon and you who were bonded a long time ago, long before kings and knights. You spent your childhood together and grew up eating fruits off of trees from strangers land and it wasn't long until love blossomed just as the flowers on the trees did

However, flowers dont last forever and neither does love...or does it?

War breaks out in your small and isolated haven, both you and Simon tried to escape but the enemy was relentless.

it wasn't long until you sat there on the mossy bed of the forest, the smoke of your village being set ablaze slowly inching closer just as the claws of death were grasping for you and simon.

Unfortunately for you it turns out you're immortal, you dont know how and dear god you've tried to find out how.

Whatever cruel curse had been put upon you and simon that night, it took a while for you to figure it out but you seem to be immortal while Simon....simon wasn't, but don't fret, he got revived eventually. However his memories were long gone, barely being lost in time because you cling so desperately to them.

And now you stood in front of your one and only true love, time to relieve this hearwrenching cycle until the cruel gods take mercy on your human souls. Except...it's no longer your Simon, it's ghost now, even more broken than the last incarnation you saw of him. He speaks up, oh how accents have changed over time.

"sorry...who are you?"

should i make this into a proper fic?

What do you think?

im writing a fic. ghost (COD) x reader (probs gonna be male or gn but with like male in mind if that makes sense? like neutral pronouns but it might seem masculine in a way)

It's mostly going to be in the POV of the reader but what should i do when a character talks to them?

A short snippet of that fic

i did a poll ages ago for what kinda story i should do....the results said the majority of you wanted street racing au (car) Ghost x male reader (motorbike)

it's probably gonna take me a bit since i want to do some proper research into what cars and bikes but here's a little snippet, this might not make it into the final draft though.

The white light from the streetlights illuminate the road while the thunderous sounds of engines fill the air. One one side of you there's your fellow biker, her electric blue streaks popping in the dark of the night, on the other side of you there's a car. You glance over curiously which is when you notice....it's ghost...the fucking masked bastard who always wins, well not for long if you have anything to do about it. You grin under your helmet as you lean over, tapping the window of his car. He looks over and for a moment you think he has no eyes. bloody hell, his eyes were almost soulless. You shake that thought away, grinning under your helmet as you raise your hand and make a 'professional' and 'mature' gesture (you made the wanking gesture)

The flag girls begin their countdown.

"THREE!"

" TWO!"

"ONE!"

theres a pause

"GO!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

let me know if you wanna be tagged or if there's any mistakes :]

What do you want?

ive got a few ideas swirling around in my noggin right now but the one i wanna try first i want to see what you lot would prefer to read. they're all pretty similar but there'll be slight changes. It's going to be male reader since thats what im used to writing

when i say bikes i mean motorbikes/ dirtbikes. Also my asks and messages are always open, just in case any of you want something.

Stray dog (Part 2)

To find the most recent chapters, please go to @doggoboigaugau 's masterlist

Sorry it took me quite long lmao TToTT School and work deadlines are killin' me.

Pairings: Ghost x Soap x Male Reader

Summary: Male Reader is traumatized and refuses to open up to 141. Soap found out something horrible going on with him and told Ghost about it.

Word count: 1910

Warnings: Smoking. Mention of attempts to self-h@rm.

The next morning you woke up with a throbbing headache. It was so bad that you felt like hundreds of needles were jabbed into your eye sockets and every time you blinked, those needles plunged into your brain, sending a sharp and chilling pain to the crown of your head. This was by no means a strange occurrence for you though, given the fact that every night the base celebrated a party you always indulged in this self-sabotaging habit. 

Still, no matter how bad the situation was, you still had training to attend to, tasks to get done, reports to compile, and a miserable life to live. You turned your head to look at the clock, silently praying that it wasn’t too late. 

It was 13:00 in the afternoon already. 

“Shit!” You threw an arm over your forehead. Nice, you missed the morning training session. It was your responsibility today to train the new recruits and now you messed up the whole Task Force’s schedule once again just because you could not handle your pathetic emotions properly. The thoughts of giving up flooded your mind yet again since it was no use in waking up anyway, it was too late to do anything useful. The other team members were already aware of how irresponsible you were as you continuously failed to be on time for training the newbies. And what about the newbies’ impression of you? Probably an unreliable man who was no longer fit to be a member of a special Task Force that was particularly famous for its efficiency. Or maybe you were never fit to be one to begin with. 

Why didn’t the others wake you up? You had worked here long enough to know how scary and irritated Ghost could get when people missed his training session. There were even times when he immediately had the unpunctual soldiers pack their things and get sent to another department because he couldn’t fuckin’ stand people disrespecting his schedule. 

“Maybe they forget about my existence. Maybe I wasn’t that big of a part of this Task Force.” You mumbled to yourself, trying to pull your tired body out of the heavy blanket. As much as you wanted to give up, the desire to be important to someone, something, or some organization, …just anything, urged you to wake up and keep trying. You wanted yourself to be seen.

Upon opening the door of your stuffy room, you instinctively covered your eyes as they were attacked by rays of blinding sunlight. Your room was too dark and gloomy, doors and windows tightly shut all day and night, no wonder you would react so unfavorably to the bright sunlight that is often associated with positive moods by most people. 

The base was unusually quiet. You didn’t meet a single soul on your way to the kitchen to fill your hungry stomach. No Soap cracking stupid jokes with his heavy Scottish accent and laughing loudly to them himself, no Gaz cursing at his jokes, no Roach laughing at the two dumb manchildren, no Price sighing and telling them to at least be less raucous. You tried to shrug the nasty nagging feelings off, but it soon became unbearable when you walked into the kitchen and saw all the dirty dishes in the sink. 

“They have finished their lunch.” And they had it without you. The people you considered to be your own family, much closer than the biological family that you had cut all contact with, didn’t wake you up from your drunken sleep, totally forgot your existence, and enjoyed a meal together like there wasn’t anything missing. You knew damn well that you were overexaggerating the seriousness of the situation, but you just couldn’t help it. 

‘What am I to them?’ That question kept spiraling inside your brain, worsening the headache that you were already having. In a brief second, all the nagging feelings were anthropomorphized into a disgusting creature with multiple heads and mouths by your ailed mind, shrilly screaming out your deepest thoughts that were fraught with insecurities. Your legs were rendered weak and you collapsed on the floor. Supporting your weakened body with all four limbs, you took heavy breaths, trying to calm yourself down.

A few minutes later, you managed to put yourself together enough to stand up and get out of the base, on the way you didn’t forget to grab a pack of cigarettes. You felt stupid to resort to nicotine as a way to fight against all those feelings, but you didn’t know a better way. There were times when things were so bad that you had no energy left to hide your conditions from your teammates, and Price was concerned. He used to have you talk to some therapists, and not surprisingly to you at all, they could not handle you for long. No one ever could. 

You were now standing in the parking lot with a cigarette in your mouth. You sighed, clearly satisfied with how strongly its bitter taste stimulated your taste buds. When you first arrived here as the newest member of Task Force 141, Soap and Gaz always joked that you’d become Price’s smoking buddy, but that did not happen. The image of you standing with Price awkwardly because you two couldn’t find a mutual topic for a conversation made you feel too uncomfortable to even try, so you kept avoiding the older man or pretending to not hear his offer until he just stopped inviting you. It was so obvious that the men wanted to get closer to you, they wanted to earn your trust, to make you feel at home and be yourself among them, yet you kept pushing them away. And now perhaps they had stopped trying all together. It was not their fault. It was yours. 

But why it was so painful? You were supposed to feel relieved that they had given up so that you didn’t have to blame yourself every time you turned their kind offer down and saw the sadness drawn on their faces. ‘Why do I keep feeling like shit no matter what I do?’

Feeling that the intense emotions that were barely suppressed by the nicotine started to get out of hand again, you cupped your head with both hands, the half-burning cigarette fell to the ground. Suddenly, your eyes caught the red burning tip of it, together with how the paper wrapping around the nicotine was slowly burnt to black. At that very moment, a dark but familiar thought popped up in your mind. You bowed down to pick up the cigarette, blankly staring at it resting between the two fingers of your right hand. Then, your eyes turned to your left hand, examining your spotty lower arm. It was full of the small round scars that were caused by burning your arms with the burning tip of a cigarette. You had noticed Ghost looked at these scars of yours many times; luckily he never asked about them. The army was a place filled with people who had different background stories and bore numerous scars, so it wouldn’t be abnormal for you to have some that were a bit funny-shaped.

‘Should I do this again?’ 

Maybe you should. It helped with the emotions. Well, temporarily, but that was good enough.

Just as you were about to press the burning tip into your lower left arm, someone threw their whole weight into you. You were hugged by two strong arms and the cigarette was again dropped to the ground.

“There you are! I’ve been finding you everywhere!” It was the Scot man. “Are you smoking? Gosh, I hate this smell! Price’s cigars are much better!”

‘The ones that smell good are never bitter enough.’ You thought to yourself.

“Have you had lunch, pretty boy?” Soap pinched your dumbfounded face.

“Not yet.”

“What? Unbelievable! Get to the kitchen with me right now, Sergeant.” The man literally manhandled you straight from the parking lot into the base, leaving you no time to object.

As you two arrived at your destination, Ghost was already sitting there, sipping some coffee. Soap forced you to sit down right next to him while he proceeded to walk to the fridge and pulled out a dish, putting it inside the microwave oven. 

“Here you are, babyboy~” He put the hot meal in front of you. You chose to ignore the pet name and his flirtatious voice simply because he had started doing it to you ever since you start working here. It was just one of his signature thing, you should not fall for it and mistake it as a sign of interest that could develop into romantic feelings. 

“Thanks, Soap.”

“Aw, don’t be so all worked up and formal, babyboy. Ya’ welcome~”

Silence fell over the three of you, until you just felt so awkward that you had to speak up, “So… how was this morning?”

“It was fine. Ghost stepped in your place and took care of the training.” Soap replied.

You carefully glanced at Ghost, just to find that the man already looked at you, which made you tremble slightly. The skull mask on his face made him too difficult to read, you couldn’t tell whether he was annoyed or he just gave up on expecting something greater from you. 

Soap laughed at your reactions, “It’s okay. You were drunk so Price agreed to let you sleep. Also, Ghost volunteered to help you with the training so he probably doesn’t hold a grudge. Am I right, Ghostie?”

The masked man didn’t answer; instead, he turned back to his cup of coffee.

You quickly finished your meal and left, saying that you should do training by yourself. The truth was you couldn’t stay there any longer, you didn’t want to disturb Ghost and Soap’s rare peaceful time together. You had already made too terrible an impression on Ghost, it’s best that you did not mess up again. As a result, you also missed their conversation. It was not intended for you to listen to anyway.

“You’re right. He did it.” Soap’s voice was solemn, with no sign of flirt or unseriousness like a few minutes before.

“You mean the scars?” Ghost looked up at him from the cup.

“Yeah, the round scar marks that you’ve told me many times.”

“It was just my guess. How do you know he really did it?”

“I found him in the parking lot. He was holding a burning cigarette and about to press it into his left arm.” 

A few minutes of silence passed until Ghost spoke up, “Fuckin’ hell.”

“I asked Price about his past, I know it’s a nosy thing to do, but I wanted to help. Unfortunately, Price knows nothing either. Y/n… the boy never opens up to us.”

The two men sat quietly, exchanging worried looks with each other. If only you could know how much they cared for you, maybe you would find it easier to accept their love and help. Yet, even if they told you, even if they desperately showed you so many times that they cared and loved you so much, would your brain allow your heart to welcome them just like how it used to welcome other people you had met earlier in your life, the ones who left you wounded and made you the way you were today? 

If someone asked you that question, you’d just offer them a weak smile and simply say: “No”. You're now too tired to hold on to any crumbles of hope left in your broken soul. You'd like to give up.

to be continued i guess :")

Taglist: @aphroditeslovr @prestigeghoul @edgyboi10000 @c0nny3917 @peter-the-pan @lovecats123451

I'm a transboy, ans could never found something about Simon and Trans!Husband. Please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please

he loves to help you with your t shots. simon trails behind you like a lost puppy, tugging at your shirt. "luv, time for yer shot" he mumbles.

he would be so gently and soft while doing it, rubbing your sore bottom after.

or if you arent a big fan of needles he would love to rub the testosterone gel on your chest, he says its better if he does it there.

he might not say it but he loves your chest scars, loves to kiss and rub them.

"im not staring... yer crazy" he mutters and looks away from you.

before the surgery he was always behind you at the 8 hour mark to take your binder of. "all right, stud. time to breath"

also, simon tries to be very specific with his compliments since you told him they made you feel better. he calls you stud, handsome, my man, good boy, etc, etc.