"you don't owe anyone anything" You are a tar pit. Speak for yourself. I personally owe the cafe employees my dishes put away and my friends a listening ear and small scared insects a cup and a gentle trip outside. Hyperindividualism is a rancid infection borne of capitalism and willfully misinterpreted therapyspeak and I will defy it by continuing to be kind regardless of whether or not it benefits me personally
Ghost would do nothing to prevent himself from being bit during a zombie apocalypse because he’d be lowkey into the idea of turning into a zombie, only for him to actually get bit during a supply run and realize that he’s immune
not that this man would ever take a vacation but you can't convince me this isn't john price on leave somewhere on the coast. his belly's softer because he's been eating whatever he wants lately. he bought short shorts to wear and invites you to ride out onto the water in the boat he rented. he calls you bunny and rubs sunscreen on you and invites you spend the night in his cottage a few ticks down from yours.
he lets you drink his whiskey and likes the way your nose twitches at the smell of cigar smoke he purposefully blows into your face. helps you ride his thigh after getting tipsy and then fucks you raw until you can't see straight.
the next morning, he wakes you with a tongue in your hole. then pops over to the shop to buy you a shit ton of pastries before hurrying back to feed it to you in the bed. hushing your sleepy whines with a peck on your mouth and nuzzle of your cheek in between each bite of the breakfast.
gotta eat up, bunny. he's got a day full of upcoming activities for the two of you...
hi friends. sorry for my absence. i was out having fun until i wasn't. and now i am here to embarrass myself.
i had what was supposed to be a regular check up with my specialist today that didn't go very well. long story short, i have to have a small procedure here in two weeks that's gonna put me out of work for a few days, which would be fine if it wasn't for the fact i used up all my PTO after getting an infection a little while back, and my job doesn't give sick pay/time.
i'm sure things will be fine (though my jaw already hurts at the thought of what this bill might be if insurance doesn't cover it) but if you guys would like, you could support me here (:
i post pretty regularly if i can manage, and you'll also get early access to my works. right now i have the next chapter of "you're an angel // i'm a god" as well as the first couple chapters of a ghost x fem!reader story that hasn't been posted to tumblr or AO3 yet!
obviously no pressure, and know that i'll be fine no matter what, but here's a little update that no one asked for, and i hope you guys are well <3
Can't stop thinking about Captain Riley being gone for an extended period of time and worrying about you at home so much he arranges someone to check in on you. Make sure you're taking care of yourself, eating, sleeping, drinking water... everything. Ensuring you're healthy and happy in every way that's needed.
Kate's the most logical choice. She lives off base but close, close enough it's not an imposition, and Simon trusts her. He makes sure you know to expect her occasionally, tells you she has a key.
The first time she comes by is a quick check in. She's unobtrusive, looking you over before asking if you need anything, and then going on her way.
The second time...
You don't hear her come in. You're tossing and turning in the bed, naked from the waist down, grinding against the heel of your palm, trying to ease the ache between your legs. You don't even realize she's standing in the doorway until it's too late, and she's pulling the sheet down to expose you. You scream and snap your legs closed, but she shakes her head. Pries your knees apart.
"Do you need help?"
"What? No- no-"
"Hmm," she traces your folds and holds her fingers up to the light. They glisten with the evidence. "I think you do." Her thumb slides over your clit and you shake your head.
"I don't... ah- I don't think you're- you're not supposed to..."
"Actually, your daddy wanted you to be taken care of in any way necessary. He knows sometimes you have trouble making this pussy come, don't you?" You groan as she presses harder, rubbing your clit in a circle.
"N-no," you try to deny her. This is wrong.
"Yes, honey, you do, I know." A lithe finger slips inside you, and she hums. "Oh you're tight. Such a tight little girl for your daddy." You try to run up the bed, legs kicking, but she grabs you under the knee and holds you firm. "Be good, or I'll have to tell him you misbehaved." You're clenching around her, body betraying you, and fat tears roll down your cheeks. "Look at you. I bet you make your daddy crazy with this sweet little virgin pussy, don't you?" Your cheeks heat. How does she know?
"I d-don't want you." She moves closer, close enough she splits you around her thighs, spreading you wider.
"I know princess, but until your daddy comes home, I have to help, alright?" She's fucking you with her hand now, pressing deep, and you're holding your breath, trying to stave off your orgasm, trying to refuse her. "Come on, come for me pretty girl. You can do it."
"I c-can't I c-c-can't-" Even as you deny it, you tremble, trying to hold yourself back, fighting a losing battle. When you grit your teeth, still trying to resist, she sighs, and presses her free hand down firmly on your lower belly.
"AH!" She chuckles.
"Maybe you need to pee instead?" The feelings are confusing. You're warm and tingling, and something inside you wants to be released, the pressure on your belly growing more firm. It feels good. It feels bad.
"No, nonono-"
"It will feel good. My little girl at home does it when she comes sometimes. Do you want to let it out?"
"No stop! Stop p-please." She presses harder and you gasp.
"Are you going to come for me?" She flicks your clit faster.
"Y-yes, yes- I... oh god, oh-" She lets go, and so do you, coming as you scream, tear stained face scrunched up, chest heaving, blissfully drifting as she gets you a glass of water and pats your thigh.
tryna have shower sex but it turns into just scrubbing the hell out of ghost
He is big and does not care about washing up. The man rots in his sweat after PT, he runs drills and goes straight to briefing with his shirt sweat stuck to his chest. He's gross. He does not care. He washes his mask because he has to smell that thing but otherwise it's everyone else's problem. Soap and Gaz will drag him into the showers and hose him down like a dog that rolled in shit. He would rather take a whore's bath in the sink than be naked around anyone else and even after he gets his own bathroom he doesn't care to walk past the mirror.
There is no shower sex, there is only holding Ghost under the downpour and scrubbing his skin raw trying to get all the grime off of him. He will sit there like a petulant child and let you wash his hair (oh my god you're blond, how- *gag* how dirty was your hair?) and only grab the washcloth from you when you go for his dick. He can wash up downstairs just fine, even if you narrow your eyes at him like you're not sure about that.
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