Nemesis {Ghost x fem reader}
Never in his life had he felt so disappointed. With a snarl, Ghost finished himself. And god was he so desperate for more, more of you, more of this.
The supply room door clicked shut behind, leaving him alone in the dimly lit space, heart pounding, and desire burning in his veins. He leaned back against the shelves, taking a moment to catch his breath and process what had just happened.
You had surely, and most effortlessly surprised him, surprised Ghost himself.
He couldn't resist your allure, those soft lips pressed against his, your fingers tracing the contours of his body. The chemistry between the both of you had been electric, a passion, both had been denying for far too long.
 But then, just as things had reached their peak, you had abruptly pulled away, leaving him aching for more.
Though Ghost couldn't stay in the supply room forever. Eventually, he straightened himself and adjusted his disheveled clothing. With a sense of determination, he stepped out of the supply room and back into the bustling hall.Â
Ghost walked into your office, standing at the doorway, his eyes met yours as you lifted your gaze from the paperwork. Your eyes held a mix of desire and apprehension.
âYou can't leave things unfinished like that, {Y/n}â
 he spoke with a hint of aggression, a glimpse of desperation that he tried to hide. He was sick of following you everywhere, but god was it anticipating.
âWhy is that, Lieutenant?âÂ
You stand and walk to the side of the desk. Your tone dripped with tease, and he could swear you were doing it on purpose. The tormenting and leading him on just to give him nothing.
âCome on, answer me.âÂ
You repeat and lean against the table, facing him as he looks at you, his eyes flare with pent-up longing.
âFor fucks sake, never have I needed something so bad, someone, so bad.â
 He confessed once more, his voice quivering with raw desire. It was draining, though he liked it, he liked draining himself, especially when you were the reason. Especially when you took part in it.
âDo you have any idea how pathetic that sounds?âÂ
You chuckle, Ghost feels targeted, and as much as he tries to seem unfazed he just canât ignore it.Â
âSo? God, won't you get it in your little mind?â
 He utters and takes a step forward. Closing the door behind him as he looks at the ground trying to regain the composure that was being drained out with each passing second.Â
âIf I were to confess everything I want to do to you, you would be getting a restraining order against me.âÂ
Ghost snarled and looked back at you, this time taking a few more steps towards your direction. This is an act that makes you shift in place and gulp. A gulp that brings down any teasing words you were about to let slip, once again.
âI think you remember confessing that you bluntly broke into my dorm and spread my legs as I was sleeping right? I would have left, just at that moment, but I didn't.â
 That was right, it's scary how he could touch you like that, run his fingers across your thigh and you wouldnât feel a thing.Â
âWell I left with my dick hard, does that make me respectful enough for you?â
 He takes a few more steps forward, now standing just a tad bit in your personal space. A shiver lurked down your spine, clawing at your inner skin and tingling your bones.
âIs that when your imagination took ahead, is that when you drew me fucking fingering myself Ghost?âÂ
You mumble and look up at him. The atmosphere crackled with electricity as you and Ghost stood there, the pull between you undeniable. It was a moment suspended in time, and you both knew that whatever happened next, it would be impossible to turn back.
âYes, yes thatâs right.âÂ
He nods, licking his teeth under his lip. That image was always at the back of his head, remembering itself at the worst times.
âYou have no ideaâŠâÂ
he whispered and took in a sharp inhale. Ghostâs thumb tracing your lips, his own desire blazing in his eyes.
You look back at him, slowly leaning forward.
He slyly slides his hands to your waist, lifting you over the table. Your feet reach to touch the ground with the tips but fail.
His eyes glance at the candles on your table, conveniently placed in a small wooden pen holder. That is when he got an idea.
âYou want that view Simon?âÂ
you ask, his gaze shifts back to you almost immediately.Â
There it was, that effect, your effect. And seemingly, you didn't yet know what you were capable of doing with that power.
How you knew exactly what to say and when to say it.
âWell fuck {Y/n}â
He takes a grip on your thighs, you let him.
He guides them apart, and you let him.
He goes between them, and you once again, let him.
No idea why, you just let it happen.
âHow about..âÂ
Ghost took one of the candles and held it in front of you.
âWhat are you getting at?âÂ
You raise an eyebrow and look at the candle. Whatever he had in mind, you most definitely knew it would be something out of pocket, and yet it anticipated you.Â
The leering idea felt hostile, and your mind immediately went to something.
Temperature play.
âThis wax would look so pretty on your skin,âÂ
he utters and leans closer to you, his mask the only thing preventing you from kissing.
âYou donât say..â
You reply, Ghost slides his hands beneath his mask, lifting it to the bridge of his nose.Â
His face gets eerily close to your neck, and his shallow breath tingles down your skin.
His hands ran down to your waist and to your pants, where he fumbled with the buttons. Sets them loose, and pulls them down.
 Just lifting you up to slide them beneath you, and then, off.
With your pants hanging beneath your knees, you stare into his pupils, those dark brown eyes.Â
Those same fucking eyes that had you in chains.
Ghost had a fine line between a macabre psychotic gaze, and a magnetic pull of eerie and attraction.
His middle finger lingers under the side of your panties, teasingly pulling it sideways and letting it go with a soft hit against your skin.
Tight.
He has a way with his hands, puts the candle between his teeth, furrows his eyebrows, and looks down at himself. Seemingly starting to search his pockets for something.
The something, the twisted thing within him. The uncanny and dark aura that glazed his contours.Â
He raised his eyebrows when he finally found what he was searching for,Â
A lighter.
A plain black lighter, with just a white contouring of what seemed like a skull on it.
His eyes glance back up at you, as much as he would try giving you puppy eyes the lethal flare wouldnât allow it.
âTell me exactly what you have in mind, Lieutenant.âÂ
You hinted, that despite the things you could already be thinking of, you wanted him to say it.
âI'll tell you exactly what I have in mind.
 Ghost takes the candle in his hands, looking at you with an intense desire before he continues.
I want to see if you can finish yourself before the wax starts melting off.â
Fucking god.
How could someone so stern, be so leering? So persuasive?
âAnd what if I don't?âÂ
You utter and look at the candle in his hands.
His lip curls into a wicked smile, a mischievous one. He bites his lower lip before responding,Â
âI'm going to pour the melting wax on youâ
You exhale, a sharp hitch in your breath. His mind was fascinating, filthy but cold and brilliant. If this doesn't terrify you, even just a little, then whatâs the point?
You look at him, peeringly and purposely as if to ask him if he was serious or not.
âAnticipating..â
 You whisper and look down at his hands, resting on your thighs with the candle in one hand and the lighter in the other.
Motherfucker.Â
You wanted to say that to him, to call him that for arousing you. And for what reason? Hell, and regardless of the reasons, and the purposes, the intentions of this you wanted it. You wanted that with him.
âI'm guessing you want those off. Allow me?â
Ghost snickers, he knows. He knows damn well that idea anticipated you, that idea made your breath hitch and your stomach twist. Make your limbs weak, make your legs spread and your two fingers trace down on yourself.
You nod, and his hands run down your spine, reaching for your underwear, and with a slow pace, he slides them off as well.
He looks down at you and clenches his jaw, oh how heâd like to pound you senseless. To fuck your brains out and twist your body inside out.Â
âYouâre allowed to start only after I light this.âÂ
Ghost lights the candle and places it beside you on the wooden surface of the table.
His forearm goes under your knees, you lean back on the desk and place one palm behind you for balance.
His hands are placed conveniently on the desk, your knees resting on his forearms, spread wide open.Â
Your clit dripping with desire, with a deep breath, your fingers guide themselves down your waist, and hips, and eventually, two fingers scissor your clit.Â
You slide your fingers in with ease.Â
The candle string burns over the tip, releasing the smell of burning cotton, and filling your throat. Â
Your middle and ring finger thrust back and forth, intensely increasing their pace. Ghost watches, his crotch straining against his pants like never before. Seeing what he had been imagining, longing for what seemed like ages was finally in front of him.
Ready to be stretched open and fucked into bliss, into pure ecstasy. Ready to take him in. Though he had to be patient,Â
âSlow downâŠâÂ
He uttered, you obeyed. Your fingers immediately responded to his demand and decreased their pace. It wasnât the fact that you were fingering yourself that made you so worked up, so breathless and weak. It was his presence, what he was making you do, what he was about to do, and what this was doing to him as well.
You could tell he was getting aroused, he was losing it at the sight. But Ghost was confident that you'd come immediately if he replaced your fingers with his own. The desire to pour that candle wax on your skin was overthrowing that desire.Â
You lifted your eyes to look at him, and his eyes met yours. If you looked at him for too long, you would finish, so you looked away.
Ghostâs eyes shifted to the candle every 5 seconds, impatiently looking to spot the first drop of melting wax form and drip down.Â
Your breathing became audible, and just then, the candle's flame slowly began to melt the top layer of wax, transforming it into a glistening pool of liquid.
The room is filled with a sense of wonder and possibility as you both know the significance of this moment.Â
âStop, {Y/n}.â
 He orders, and you take in a sharp inhale.Â
âWould you look at that?â
 He unwraps his hand from your thigh and takes the candle in his hand, his eyes focused on the drop of wax, forming, and dripping down the candle.Â
Fuck.
Ghost wraps his fingers around your wrist, and pulls your hand away.Â
Fascinating way to edge.
âYou think I wouldn't realize? That you didn't finish on purpose?âÂ
 He chuckles and runs his hand up your shirt, slowly rolling it up to expose your waist. His gloved fingers glide down your stomach and your hips.Â
âI wasn't trying to hide it.â
You stare at him through eyebrows.Â
He could read you too well, and he knew you wanted this. He knew it intrigued you. You place both your palms on the desk behind you and lean back, inviting him. As you lean back, he inches closer and closer. Magnetic,
that's what he labeled you as.Â
His fingers trace down your belly, stopping right at your lower abdomen. Just pressing down a tad bit.Â
He places the tip of his glove between his own thigh and the edge of the table, sliding his hand out of it. And almost immediately, his hand traces down your clit. Palming and sliding two fingers in.
âFuckâŠâ
He groans, and just unexpectedly, he tilts the candle near your skin, where flames almost severely burn you. The wax drop lingers over the edge for a few seconds and then falls on your stomach.
A loud gasp, followed by a whimper.
The liquid drips slowly down your skin, it burns, it traces a feel of hot frizz along your skin as it finds its own way down your skin.Â
Ghost motions his fingers in you, edging and stimulating. It hurt, so good. Hurt and burnt, though in some way it aroused you.Â
Damn him.
Simon Ghost Riley, yes, damn him for twisting your desires this way, speaking of that. The wax continued its way down your lower abdomen. Your whimpers turned into moans, as he went deeper with his fingers. The sight made your stomach tangle. The single drop of liquid leaves a red trail on its way down your waist and between your legs. Slowly splitting into two drops forming an oval and circling between your legs. Until it found its way down to the table.Â
As his fingers move back and forth, his thumb presses down on your clit. Provocation, pure teasing.
Your insides were heating up, and drops of sweat trickled down your forehead.Â
Just another drop of burning wax poured down on your skin, causing another noise to escape your throat. Unsure what it was, a moan or a whimper? Perhaps a whine for mercy?Â
Your stomach was drawn red lines onto, lines that resembled lust, pain, and pleasure. Lines that contoured the twisted little connection this man had pulled you into. The mixed feel of getting closer to bliss, and the impassive desire.Â
Your skin felt languid and numb, so you could only focus on the feelings going on inside you. The heat and moisture crawling out of the pores of your flesh and sticking to Ghostâs fingers pleasantly. The wax mixed with arousal on the way traced around your groin.
This situation,Â
One hand was bringing you pain, and the other pleasure. How ironic. Was this his way of toying? He had a resistance that was undeniable. However, seeing you shed tears and moan at the same time. You hated him, god you hated him so much. Though the desire, the urge to hate fuck him was also, undeniable.Â
There he was, making you moan and squirm. Making you gasp and shake. Spreading your legs and fingering you. Giving you pain and pleasure at the same time.Â
âYou may have beat me in that fight, but you canât bet me in this fight {Y/n}âÂ
Motherfucker.












