Happy Birthday, Love
Ghost/f!Reader
Content & Warnings: Restraints, dirty talk, degradation, talks of cheating/dubcon, leather, established relationship, explicit language, birthday shenanigans
Word Count: 3.2k
AO3 Link | Masterlist
You know when you were in school and you'd bring in cupcakes for your birthday so your class could celebrate with you? Well, here are my cupcakes. 💜 Enjoy Ghost fucking you for your birthday 🥳🎉
Every year on your birthday, Simon Riley takes you out.
He buys you dinner, takes you to whatever movie you’ve been hinting at, and even takes you to get that sweet treat you like, despite it being something “far too sweet” for him.
He’s charming the whole night, making you laugh with his bad dad jokes and making you feel special in that way only he can. It’s like the whole evening has been designed just with you in mind.
He even wears that one shirt you got him that doesn’t quite feel right on his shoulders. The way it has you looking at him has his complaints quickly dying on his tongue.
At the end of the night, he’s still the perfect gentleman as he takes you back home. He’ll settle beside you on the couch, handing another small gift that’s been wrapped with almost comical precision.
The small gifts are always a small bit of jewelry to match the previous year’s. At first it was a necklace, then a bracelet, then a couple of charms for the bracelet.
This year, it’s earrings.
They’re simple and elegant in a way that feels personal. They match your other pieces without being part of a set. It’s like he’s building something every year with each piece he adds.
You already wore the necklace and bracelet with all the charms tonight, anticipation buzzing in your chest to see the newest addition put on.
“Go on, love,” he encourages with that deep, warm tone that just does things to you. “Lets see it all together.”
You don’t even try to hide your excitement as your hurry to your room. Standing in front of your mirror, you carefully fasten each earring.
When you turn your head, you notice just how well they frame your face while also tying together the whole look in a way that just feels so well thought-out.
Simon always seems to know what suits you. Your chest flutters as you think about him picking out each piece, no doubt with the focused look that’s a remnant from his days in the military.
You’re stil smiling at your reflection when you hear it.
A thump.
Something shifts in the living room.
You freeze.
“Simon?” you call out. But there’s no immediate response. You wait a moment for him to call back…
But nothing.
Your pulse picks up.
Maybe he just didn’t hear. Maybe he’s taking care of those dishes you told him not to worry about, or tossing the wrapping paper away and you just can’t hear each other.
“Simon?” you try again, stepping into the hallway so your voice carries better.
Still nothing.
A slow, prickling unease crawls down your spine.
The hallways feels narrower as you move toward the living room, each step quieter than the last. You strain to hear something, but the house feels too still.
You reach the end of the hall.
A gloved hand slams over your mouth.
Your scream never makes it out, cut off before it can even form. Your body jerks instinctively, bolting backward into a broad chest that shouldn’t be there.
The smell hits you next. Leather… gun oil….
An arm hooks around your waist. Not painful, but firm. Firm enough to let you know that you’re not getting away.
Your heart slams against your ribs as you tilt your head up to look at your captor.
A familiar skull mask stares back at you.
Ghost.
Your breath stutters against his palm. Fear and adrenaline hitting you all at once.
He tilts his head, just slightly, that predator’s assessment making his eyes glint with something sharp and amused. He lowers down slightly, getting far too close for someone who should not be in your home.
You twist instinctively. His arm tightens, locking you where he wants you.
“There she is,” he murmurs, voice rough with amusement. “The birthday girl.”
You make a small, startled sound behind his hand. He rolls your head to the side, barely anything, but just enough for him to look you over like he’s inspecting his catch.
“Thought you’d scream,” he says softly. “But you didn’t.”
A low hum of approval vibrates in his chest. “Good. I like it when you behave.”
Heat trickles down your spine.
Slowly, he removes his hand from your mouth… only to catch your chin the next second, turning you fully toward him.
His thumb presses under your bottom lip, tilting your face up. “Pretty tonight,” he murmurs, eyes raking over your features. “Love how you get all dolled up for him…”
His fingers slide down your throat, serving to hold you in place again.
“...But we both know I’m the one who gets to see what you look like when you’re trembling.”
A thin, shaky breath escapes you.
Ghost steps closer, crowding you until your back eases into the wall. He doesn’t shove, never has to. His presence alone pushes you back.
Your hands lift on instinct, fingertips brushing the edge of his vest.
He catches one of your wrists immediately, pinning it above your head with little effort.
“Easy now, love,” he murmurs, his voice a dark purr. “I’ll give you what that soft little boyfriend of yours can’t.”
His voice dips evn deeper.
“I know you wait all year for it.”
Your breaths are shaky as you just stare back at him.
“What’s the matter, birthday girl?” he mocks softly. Cat got your tongue?”
“I… I just…” You swallow hard. “Y-you scared me.”
He chuckles, pleased with your reaction. “I know,” he says condescendingly. “Couldn’t help myself. You’re so damn cute when you jump.”
The way he’s looking at you, like he’s enjoying the fear in your eyes, makes heat curl low in your stomach.
“Now…..” His free hand drags down your side, slow and intentional. “Let’s see what he left for me to unwrap.”
Ghost’s hand drags lower, fingertips brushing the hem of your dress. He hooks one finger beneath the fabric and slowly tugs it up inch by inch, exposing your thighs. His eyes track the motion, watching your skin pebble with goosebumps in the cool air.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “Such a pretty little thing.”
His hand pushes the fabric up around your waist, revealing the lace of your panties. You see the moment he spots the damp patch. There’s a faint crinkle in his eyes, showing off the smile you can’t see, but know is under that mask.
“Tell me, love…” His voice dips back into that dark purr. “Were you gettin’ this needy for him? Or is that all for me?”
His hand cups you over the thin lace, and your hips jerk up before you can stop yourself.
Ghost chuckles. “Thought so.”
His fingers press just enough to make your breath catch. “Think it’s time I gave you my present, birthday girl.”
Before you can even reply, his hands shift. One hand slides under your thighs, the other around your back. Then you’re lifted clean off the floor like you weigh nothing.
A startled gasp slips out of you. “G-Ghost!”
“That’s it,” he rumbles, adjusting his grip as he starts down the hallway. “Love that little squeak in your voice when you say my name.”
Your pulse hammers as he carries you.
“I watched you tonight,” he says, tone almost conversational. “Smilin’ at him. Pretendin’ you weren’t thinkin’ about me.”
He huffs a quiet laugh. “Cute.”
Your heart jumps as he turns the corner toward the bedroom.
“Don’t worry,” he adds, voice turning sinful. “You’ll get to thank him properly later.”
Your legs instinctively squeeze around him, he notices immediately, chuckling.
He pauses in the bedroom doorway, grip still firm.
“Last chance to tell me no, birthday girl.”
Your breath stutters, not because you want him to stop. But because Ghost never asks. His fingers flex against your thigh, waiting.
“Ghost…”
It comes out as a plea.
“Say what you want,” he tells you, surprisingly softly. “And I’ll give it to you.”
You swallow. “You, Ghost. I want you….”
He makes a low, satisfied sound before saying, “Atta girl.”
He steps into the room, kicks the door shut, and carries you straight to the bed.
“Been thinkin’ about this all bloody night,” he admits. “Watched you get all dressed up, knowin’ I’d be the one to take it all off later.”
He reaches the mattress and tosses you down, watching you bounce slightly.
You look up at him, chest rising and falling, watching the way he looms over you, heavy and hungry.
“Don’t move.”
The command leaves no room for argument.
You stay perfectly still as he shifts you into place before moving to reach something under a pillow.
A coil of satin rope.
Your breath catches, but he pays you no mind. Instead, he starts binding your wrists with steady, practiced efficiency. The rope slides over your skin, firm but careful, before he threads it through the headboard, securing you.
“There we go.”
He tugs once, testing the hold, satisfied with how little you can move your arms.
Then his attention returns to your body.
He drags a hand up your calf, slow and deliberate. The feeling of his leather glove gliding over your skin sends shivers down your spine.
Ghost huffs a quiet laugh, amused. “So fuckin’ easy to wind up, aren’t you, birthady girl?”
His hand pauses on your thigh. “Rope alright? Not too tight?”
You shake your head, mind racing with anticipation of what he’s going to do next.
Ghost is unpredictable. Dangerous in all the ways that make your breath hitch. That’s what drew you to him in the first place. And now, you’re tied down beneath him, with nowhere to go, completely at his mercy.
His fingers hook into the waistband of your panties. He slides them down your legs at an agonizing pace, eyes locked on what’s being revealed. Your hips lift instinctively to help him remove the lace.
He pockets the panties without a word. Something hot curls in your belly at the sight.
“Fuck…” Ghost’s voice drops to a gravelly drowl. He traces your slick folds with the tips of his gloved fingers, spreading the wetness. “Look at you. Drippin’ already.”
He circles your clit slowly. The texture of the glove makes you gasp. Your back arched, a strained sound slipping out before you can stop it.
Under the mask, Ghost’s lips twitch.
“That’s it. Let me hear you.”
He presses a single finger inside you, sinking it to the knuckle. Your walls clench greedily around the intrusion, pulling him deeper.
“Good girl,” he mutters, voice thick. “Tight little thing, aren’t you?”
He curls the finger, making you gasp as you pull against the rope. A second finger soon joins the first, stretching you. Your hips jerk upward, chasing the feeling.
“There she is,” Ghost murmurs with dark satisfaction. “Greedy little cunt. Always takes my fingers so well.”
He scissors his fingers, spreading your walls and stretching you open for him. Pleasure sparks down your body as you whimper for him.
His free hand slides up your side, moving to palm your breast through your top. He squeezes, thumb brushing over your pert nipple. Then he pinches, before rolling the peak between his fingers.
Your moan comes out raw and helpless. You find yourself straining against the rope again.
“Admit it,” he says, leaning closer to your face. “Part of you lives for this. Lives for me tyin’ you down and takin’ what I want.”
His fingers begin to move faster, thrusting deeper, each pump hitting that spot that makes your toes curl. Wet, obscene sounds fill the room as he works you over.
“You hear that?” he rasps. “That’s you, love. Soaked. Beggin’ without needin’ to say a word.”
He doesn’t slow.
If anything, his fingers drive into you harder. Your moans mix with the sound of his fingers plunging into your cunt.
Ghost lowers himself until his mask is beside your cheek. You feel the lightest ghost of his breath against your skin as his thumb finds your clit. He starts to rub fast, hard circles over the swollen bundle of nerves.
Your stomach tightens, pleasure turning hot and sharp. Your walls start to flutter around him, squeezing down on each thrust.
“Not gonna last, are ya, birthday girl?” Ghost murmurs, tone mocking but low and hot in your ear. “Always so fuckin’ eager for it. Year after year.”
A third finger pushes into you. You gasp, body arching, the rope lightly digging into your wrists as you strain.
He curls all three fingers in unison, hitting that spot that steals the air from your lungs.
His thumb never lets up.
“Yeah… there it is,” he growls. “Feel that? You’re about to soak me proper.”
Your thighs shake. Breath stops, short-circuiting your brain, making it hard to think.
“Go on then, birthday girl,” he urges, voice rough. “Make a mess of my hand. Wanna feel you lose it.
The filthy words easily tip you over the edge.
Your orgasm slams into you in a hot, dizzying wave. Your back arches off the bed as you choke out his name.
“Ghost!”
He works you through your orgasm, eyes crinkling behind the mask. He doesn’t stop until you’re squirming, trying to get away from his touch as the last aftershock leaves you a boneless, panting mess.
Ghost watches your smugly as you come down from your high, chest heaving and skin flushed. He slowly withdraws his glistening fingers from you, a strand of your arousal connecting the two of you briefly hangs between the two of you before dripping back onto his glove.
He brings his hand up to your mouth. “Be a good girl and clean that up for me,” he orders.
You open obediently as he shoves the fingers into your mouth. Your tongue moves without thinking, making him give you a pleased hum.
“Been a while since you had a real orgasm, birthday girl? Simon just not doin’ it for you anymore?”
You stare up at him, dazed and pliant, his fingers still in your mouth as you lap at them. Ghost watches every second, only sliding them free once he thinks you’ve done a good job.
Rising to his feet, he looms over you again.
“Spread your legs for me, slut. Time for the main event.”
You’re quick to comply, spreading your legs wide to expose your dripping, swollen folds. You shiver as you catch the sigh of the prominent bulge straining against his tactical pants.
Ghost takes a moment to admire the sight before him. Your glistening folds, flushed and swollen from your recent orgasm, sing out to him, just begging to be filled. He unbuckles his belt slowly, your eyes following the movement with bated breath.
After pulling down his zipper, his thick, hard cock springs free, already leaking at the tip, and your mouth waters at the sight.
He smirks beneath the mask, taking in your eager expression. "Look at you, starin' at my cock like you're starved for it."
He wraps a gloved hand around his shaft, giving it a firm stroke. Your eyes follow the movement, utterly fixated.
“Please,” you find yourself whining, hips bucking up, as if trying to convince him to fill you already.
That seems to be all the encouragement he needs, quick to line up the head of his cock with your folds.
“Brace yourself, birthday girl. I ain't gonna go easy on you this year. Been too fuckin' pent up, and you're gonna take every inch of my cock like a good little slut. Hope you're ready.”
With that, he thrusts forward, burying himself balls deep inside you in one brutal stroke. A choked scream escapes your throat as you feel every thick inch of him stretching you out, splitting you open.
Your pussy clenches and flutters around the sudden intrusion, struggling to adjust to his size.
Ghost groans, eyes fluttering shut behind the mask as your scorching heat envelops him. He doesn't give you time to recover before he starts moving, hips snapping forward at a punishing pace.
The bed creaks and shakes with the force of his thrusts, the headboard slamming into the wall.
He grips your hips bruisingly, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he uses the leverage to drive into you with even more intensity. The room fills with the crude sounds of skin slapping against skin and your escalating moans.
Ghost leans down to growl in your ear, voice ragged. "Take it, slut. Fuckin' take my cock. This is what you needed, ain't it? To be split open and used like the cock hungry whore you are."
He angles his hips, hitting that perfect spot inside you with every savage thrust. Your hands strain against the ropes, completely at his mercy, while he fucks you like a wild animal.
He slows at one point, but only to hook your legs over his elbows, nearly bending you in half as he pounds hard and deep into you.
His eyes are ablaze behind the mask as he drives into you, chasing his pleasure. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he snarls, breath coming out in harsh, muffled pants.
Stars explode behind your eyelids as he rams into that spot inside of you that makes your brain go numb.
His hand wraps around your throat again, squeezing a bit harder than last time as he fucks you. “Fuck,” he roars, watching your breasts bounce as he fucks you. “Come on, birthday girl. Come for me. Wanna feel this cunt come all over me again.”
Ghost's relentless thrusts and the pressure on your throat push you over the edge embarrassingly fast. Your pussy clamps down on his pistoning cock like a vice, fluttering and squeezing as you come undone.
"Fuck, yes! That's it, come on my cock like a good slut!" Ghost roars, feeling your release.
Your back arches off the bed, body shaking and trembling from the force of your climax as you scream out his name.
He chuckles as you come down from your high. “Don’t think we’re done yet, birthday girl. We’ve still got the whole night ahead of us.”
It’s quite some time later before he finally drops beside you. Both of you are spent and boneless against the mattress. At some point, he’d released you from your restraints and discarded all of his gear. You instinctively curl up into his now-bare chest as you try to catch your breath.
Ghost lets out a long exhale, tipping his head down to look at you.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he says with a warmth in his voice that’s a far cry from all the gravel and dominance he’s had this evening.
His arm slides around your waist, fingers rubbing slow circles into your hip. “Can’t wait to see you again next year,” he adds, voice a bit more playful.
You glance up at him, smiling when he gives a small, knowing wink.
With his free hand, he reaches up to hook his fingers under the edge of the mask.
You watch as he lifts it, mesmerized. The moment it’s off, the entire room seems to exhale with him. His shoulders loosen, the harshness in his eyes melting away until it’s just Simon looking at you.
He sets the mask on the nightstand before pulling you into a soft kiss. You completely melt into his arms, letting your eyes flutter shut as the last of the adrenaline fades.
Simon breathes you in, holding you just a little tighter, before ending the night exactly the way he always does.
“Happy birthday, love.”