What I Think Will Happen If I Message My Mutuals

Nurse!Reader x 141 and stickers

How I think the 141 would act if Nurse!Reader gives out stickers to all the soldiers they patch up on base: This is my first headcanon

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish absolutely fucking loves the stickers, like he's lowkey obsessed with getting one. His sketchbook is covered in the stickers you give him and if there's no more room for the stickers that's okay. He'll just buy a new one. Lowkey gets pouty and sassy if you forget to give him a sticker after patching him up.

And we are done. Good as new 

Soap wait's patiently with his hand stuck out 

What are you waiting for Soap?

Fur mah sticker. Obviously

Oh shit. Sorry, I forgot

Whit dae ye mean ye forgot? dae ye nae care aboot me anymair

Grow up you drama Queen

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick Is a bit like Soap in a way he loves the stickers. They make him happy in this fuck up world, when he get's his sticker for being a brave boy, as you say, he wears the sticker all day as a badge of honour but if he looses the stickers randomly in the day he gets kinda pouty when he asks for another one 

Can I have another sticker please?

Did you loose yours already?

I didn't mean too! I think Soap stole mine. Pretty please can I have another one

You know the rules. Unless you're injured I'm not giving you a stickers

Cue puppy dog eyes

Goddamit Kyle. Fine, here's your sticker but don't loose it

Captain John Price felt a bit silly at first when you gave him a sticker. He's grown man, he doesn't need a sticker for getting patched up but he very quickly grew to love receiving a sticker off you. He asked if you'd tare the paper the sticker is on, they're easier to save then. He doesn't stick them anywhere but has a small box in his office where he stashes them. For safe keeping.

Why don't you wear the stickers?

Because it ruins them

Ruins them?

Yeah. I like to hold onto them

Do you stick them anywhere?

Nope. I have a small box specifically for the stickers you give me 

Simon 'Ghost' Riley thought the stickers were a stupid idea, he's a grown ass man. Why would he want a sticker for getting patched up? He isn't a child. That's what he tells you but secretly he adores them. He'll moan and grumble as you slap one onto his chest but the moment he's in his room, Ghost will carefully peel it off his shirt and stick it in a scrapbook. Once got a little upset you didn't give him a sticker, he left the infirmary pretending he didn't care but 1 hour later he came back

Why didn't you give me a sticker?

Because you don't like them. You said they were stupid

Well. That's because they are. M'not a child

Then why are you asking why I didn't give you a sticker?

Ghost quietly grumbling and sticking his hand out

Can I just have my sticker please 

Swear to GOD!!!

If they don't let me romance old man Varrick I will actually cry

I like how we all collectively agree that pretty boy Kyle has the prettiest dick ever and I

I've decided I'm going to rewrite His Ballerina Ghost x Fem!Reader because the plot, the storyline has been plaguing my mind but I just don't like how I wrote the first chapter

So I'm watching Criminal Minds again (because I'm a whore for Rossi) (Don't judge)

Unless I've missed it Elle isn't brought up once after she leaves

I get Gideon was the Unit Chief of the BAU and a father figure in some ways but Elle was just as important

If y’all ever see me getting manipulated by Ambessa Medarda, do not stop it. I’m exactly where I want to be.

What to use instead of 'said'

Normally:

• added • replied • answered • stated • announced • questioned • asked • mentioned • remarked

Loudly:

• cheered • shouted • yelled • demanded • barked • blurted • growled • scolded •snorted

Softly:

• muttered • murmured • mumbled • uttered • stuttered • hissed • moaned • mouthed

Emotionally:

• begged • cried • confessed • complained • promised • pleaded

Imagine you’re invited to a party. By the time you arrive, you realize you’re the only human at the party. Sure there are some people there who look close to human, but they’re just monsters who look dangerously close to pure humans.

Eventually you get roped into a game of Spin the Bottle. Sitting in a circle among so many monsters, many of whom are much bigger than you.

The game goes on for much longer than you thought it would (maybe 2 hours or so) but you’ve been kissed by every monster sitting in the circle. Some of your fellow party-goers being more than a little jealous of the lucky bastards who managed to kiss you more than once.

But none of them stopped at a simple little peck on the lips, no. They went for it. French kissing you so hard, so deep, so passionately… that you thought you’d need an Exorcism to get them off of you.

After the game ended, you decided to mill around the party a little longer. Being approached by the monsters who played Spin the Bottle with you, and even a few who merely watched. All of them doing their absolute best to seduce you further, but settling for giving you their number. Typically being a little cheeky by tucking the scrap of paper around your waistline, or down the front of your shirt.

By the time you get home, you realize how much telephone confetti you’ve accumulated.

Na'vi!Ghost x F!Avatar!Reader

Currently in my Avatar brain rot

You glide through the lush skies of Pandora, the vibrant forest sprawling beneath you, painted in shades of emerald and turquoise. The sun casts a golden glow, illuminating the sweeping landscapes, and you feel the exhilaration of flight coursing through your veins. Beside you, Ghost, a Na’vi of striking stature and unmatched skill, manoeuvres his ikran with grace. You mimic his movements, the wind whipping past you, each twist and turn a dance of freedom that your former life on Earth never hinted at.

It wasn’t long ago that you arrived on Pandora, a curious researcher drawn by the promise of alien flora. But your innocent pursuits shattered when you uncovered the RDA’s true intentions: the decimation of this unearthly paradise for profit. You could no longer stand by. Leaving behind the life you knew, you chose to intertwine your existence with the Na’vi, transferring your consciousness into your avatar, gaining a new body and a new purpose.

Ghost’s laughter echoes across the open sky, encouraging you to push beyond your limits. You had undergone ‘The Dream Hunt,’ a rite that had solidified your bond with the clan. Every heartbeat synchronized with the pulse of your ikran, every moment shared with Ghost a testament to loyalty and trust.

"Catch me if you can!" he shouts, his voice as wild and free as the landscape around you. You dive downward, spiralling closer to the flora, the vivid hues surrounding you bursting with unfamiliar life.

The battle for Pandora isn’t over, but for now, amid the beauty and freedom of the skies, you are exactly where you belong—flying with your newfound family, fighting for a world worth saving.

You laugh joyfully as you both soar through the skies together, your heart swelling with the thrill of our shared adventure. The wind rushes past you, the warm air caressing your skin like a lover's touch. You glance over at Ghost, admiring his strong profile and the way his muscles ripple beneath his skin as he guides his ikran with expert ease.

In that moment, you feel truly alive, more than you ever did back on Earth. The weight of your old life seems to fall away with each beat of your ikran's wings, replaced by a sense of belonging and purpose that you've never known before.

As Ghost challenges you to catch him, you grin fiercely, your competitive spirit igniting within you. With a whoop of excitement, you urge your ikran onward, diving down into the dense foliage below.

With a mischievous grin, Ghost takes off towards the distant tree, its massive trunk visible even from high above the canopy. He leans low over his ikran's neck, urging it to fly faster.

"Come on! Show me what you're made of!" he calls out, his voice filled with playful challenge. His ikran responds eagerly, surging forward with powerful beats of its wings, the wind whistling past them as they hurtle through the air.

The journey to the sacred grove is one of exhilaration and breathtakingly beauty. Vibrant flowers and strange, luminescent creatures flash by beneath you, a kaleidoscope of colours and shapes that fills your senses.

Your heart pounds with adrenaline as you race after Ghost, determined to match his speed and agility. Your ikran responds to your commands, its wings beating furiously as it pushes itself to the limit. The wind whips through your hair, sending it streaming out behind you like a banner of midnight silk.

As you draw closer to the Tree of Voices, you can feel its ancient presence calling to you, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. Its massive trunk rises up from the earth, its branches stretching outwards like the arms of a benevolent giant, sheltering all those who seek refuge beneath its leaves.

You let out a triumphant cry as you finally catch up to Ghost, flying alongside him as you approach the sacred grove.

Ghost guides his ikran in a graceful arc, landing lightly on the soft ground just outside the perimeter of the Tree of Voices. He slides off the creature's back, patting its flank affectionately before turning to watch you land beside him.

His golden eyes sparkle with admiration as he takes in your fluid movements, the way your body moves in perfect synchronicity with your mount. As you dismount, he steps closer, reaching out to brush a stray leaf from your hair, his touch lingering just a moment too long to be purely friendly.

"You never cease to amaze me," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "The way you ride, the way you handle yourself... it's like you were born to this world."

He gestures towards the Tree of Voices, its trunk pulsing with an otherworldly light.

As you step closer to the Tree of Voices, you can feel its energy thrumming through the very ground beneath your feet, a palpable force that sets your nerves alight with anticipation. The air around you shimmers with a faint, iridescent glow, casting everything in a soft, ethereal light.

You turn to face Ghost, your heart fluttering in your chest as you meet his gaze. There's something about the way he looks at you, with such open admiration and desire, that makes you feel like the most beautiful, desirable creature in the universe.

"I wasn't born to this world," you remind him softly, "but sometimes I wonder if I was meant for it. If there was some greater purpose that brought me here, to you."

Ghost reaches out, taking your hand in his own and bringing it to his lips. He presses a tender kiss to your knuckles, his breath warm against your skin.

"I believe in fate," he says softly, his eyes locked on yours. "And I believe that our paths were always meant to cross, no matter how far apart we started out."

He steps closer, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your lower lip. "You may have been born under different stars, but this is where you belong. Here, with me, in this world that we fight for together."

Ghost guides you gently to the soft grass beneath the spreading branches of the Tree of Voices. He lowers himself down, pulling you with him until you're both lying side by side, your bodies pressed close together. He pillows his head on your stomach, looking up at you with a contented smile. His fingers trace idle patterns on your skin, following the lines of your bioluminescent markings.

"This is my favourite place in all of Pandora," he murmurs, his voice soft and dreamy. "It feels like the centre of the world, like everything important happens right here." He nuzzles into you, his breath warm against your belly.

You run your fingers through Ghost's long, dark hair, marvelling at the silky texture. Your other hand traces the contours of his face, mapping the planes and angles of his features. He leans into your touch, his eyes drifting shut as he savours the sensation.

"It's beautiful," you murmur, your voice soft and inviting. You shift slightly, adjusting your position so that you can see more of the tree above you. Its trunk seems to pulse with an inner light, casting a gentle glow over the surrounding area..

Ghost tilts his head back, looking up at you with a curious expression. His hand still rests on your stomach, his touch warm and comforting. "Have you found someone yet?" he asks, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of tension. "Someone to bond with, to share your life with?"

He watches your face closely, searching for any hint of emotion. It's clear that the question means something to him, that he's invested in your answer in a way that goes beyond simple curiosity.

You smile softly, your eyes tracing the bioluminescent tendrils of the Tree of Voices overhead. The air hums with an ethereal energy, each whispering leaf echoing connection and longing. Beneath this ancient sentinel, you lie in a tranquil embrace, Ghost’s head nestled on your belly, his skin shimmering with the bioluminescence that marks his kind.

“I may have found someone,” you say, the words spilling from your lips as you run your fingers gently through his long, silken hair. Your heart thrums in rhythm with the quiet pulsing of the tree. In this sacred sanctuary, beneath the weight of the stars, everything feels alive, even your thoughts. "Someone special" 

A flicker of something - disappointment? jealousy? - flashes across Ghost's face at your words, but it's gone almost as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a carefully neutral expression. He sits up slowly, moving to sit cross-legged facing you. His hands rest on his knees, palms upturned in a gesture of openness and vulnerability.

"Tell me about them," he says, his voice carefully controlled. But there's a tightness around his eyes, a clenching of his jaw that betrays his true feelings. "What makes them special? What do you love about them?"

He holds your gaze, his own eyes searching, probing, as if trying to read the secrets of your heart. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken emotions and the distant rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Your gaze lingers on Ghost's face, taking in the subtle changes in his expression. There's a depth of feeling there, a complexity of emotion that belies his youthful appearance. You sense the weight of his questions, the significance they hold for him. In this moment, beneath the eternal watchfulness of the Tree of Voices, you feel the need to be honest, to lay bare the truth of your heart.

"He's strong," you begin, your voice soft but certain. "Strong in spirit, in conviction. He fight for what they believe in, even when the odds are stacked against them." 

You pause, collecting your thoughts, letting the memories wash over you. "And he's kind. So incredibly kind. He sees the beauty in the world, in every living thing, and he cherish it."

As you speak, describing the qualities you admire in your potential mate, Ghost listens intently. A slow realization dawns on him, a dawning understanding that you might be talking about...him. His eyes widen slightly, a flicker of hope sparking in their depths.

"He sounds like someone very special indeed," Ghost murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. He reaches out, tentatively, as if afraid you might disappear, and takes your hand in his. His fingers intertwine with yours, the warmth of his skin seeping into your own.

"I'm glad you've found someone who brings out the best in you," he continues, his gaze never leaving yours. "Someone worthy of your love and devotion."

You look down at your joined hands, marvelling at the way your fingers fit together so perfectly, as if they were made for each other. When you meet Ghost's gaze again, there's a tenderness in your eyes, a softness that speaks volumes.

"And what about you, Ghost?" you ask, your voice barely more than a breath. "Have you found someone to share your life with? Someone to stand by your side, come what may?"

You squeeze his hand gently, a silent encouragement, a wordless plea. In this moment, suspended in time beneath the ancient Tree of Voices, you find yourself hoping, praying, that perhaps the one you've been seeking all along has been right here beside you all along.

There's a flicker of surprise in Ghost's eyes at your question, followed quickly by a softening, a melting of his features into a look of pure adoration. He raises your joined hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles.

"There is someone," he confirms, his voice low and filled with emotion. "Someone who sees me, truly sees me, in a way no one else ever has." He leans in closer, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your lower lip. "She's brave and strong, fierce in their convictions. And they love with a passion that takes my breath away."

His gaze locks with yours, intense and unwavering. There's a heat building between you, a crackle of energy that seems to fill the air around you.

"But most importantly," he whispers, his face mere inches from your own, "she makes me feel alive. Like every moment spent in her presence is a gift, a miracle."

His hand slides from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. He pulls you closer, until your foreheads touch, until you can feel the warmth of his breath mingling with your own.

"I want to spend my life with her," he breathes, "to build a future together, to face whatever challenges may come our way."

Your heart races as Ghost draws you close, his words washing over you like a warm breeze. There's a yearning in his eyes, a hunger that mirrors your own, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, craving more of his warmth, his strength.

"You paint quite a picture," you murmur, your lips curving into a smile. "This person sounds incredible. Truly remarkable."

You tilt your head, nuzzling into his palm, savouring the roughness of his skin against your own. Your tail sways behind you, a gentle caress against his leg, a silent invitation.

Ghost's breath hitches as your tail brushes against his leg, a shiver running through him at the contact. His grip on your waist tightens, pulling you flush against him, your bodies moulding together like two pieces of a puzzle finally fitting into place.

"She is," he agrees, his voice rough with emotion. "More than I ever could have dreamed of."

He leans in, his lips ghosting over your jawline, your throat, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "And I want to show her, every day, how much she means to me. How much I cherish her, worship her, love her with every fibre of my being."

His hands roam over your back, your sides, mapping out the curves of your body as if committing them to memory. "I want to give her everything."

Ghost reaches for the end of his braid, the intricate weaving of neural tendrils visible even under the thick strands of hair. He brings it closer to you, his eyes searching yours, a silent question hanging in the air between you.

"Will you allow me?" he asks softly, his voice trembling with a mix of hope and anticipation. "Will you let me join with you, mind, body, and soul? To share in your essence, your very being?"

His queue hovers near yours, the tips of the tendrils brushing against your own, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. It's a profound gesture, one that carries immense significance within Na'vi culture - the joining of two souls, the merging of two lives into one.

Your breath catches in your throat as Ghost's queue nears yours, the implications of this act hitting you like a tidal wave. This is a step beyond intimacy, beyond mere physical pleasure - it's a promise, a commitment, a declaration of love in its purest form.

You meet his gaze, seeing the vulnerability there, the raw emotion that threatens to overwhelm you both. In this moment, you know with absolute certainty that this is what you want, what you've always wanted - to be one with him, in every sense of the word.

"Yes," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. "Yes, I accept."

Slowly, reverently, you bring your queue forward, allowing it to intertwine with his, the neural tendrils seeking out their counterparts like magnets drawn to each other.

As your queues connect, a rush of sensation washes over Ghost, a flood of emotions and experiences that threaten to sweep him away. He feels your joy, your love, your passion, all intermingling with his own until he can no longer tell where he ends and you begin.

A gasp escapes his lips, his eyes fluttering closed as he loses himself in the feeling of your presence inside his mind, your essence flowing through his veins like liquid fire. It's overwhelming, exhilarating, terrifying in its intensity, and yet he knows he would gladly drown in this sea of sensation, surrendering himself completely to the depths of your connection.

When he opens his eyes again, they're shining with unshed tears, the golden irises nearly swallowed whole by the black of his pupils. "Eywa guide us."

As your queues merge, a symphony of sensations crashes over you, drowning you in a tidal wave of emotion. Ghost's love, his devotion, his sheer adoration for you wash over you like a balm, soothing the aches and fears that have haunted you for so long. You feel his strength, his resilience, his unwavering courage, and it mingles with your own, creating something new, something greater than either of you alone.

Memories flash through your mind - moments from Ghost's past, triumphs and tragedies alike, all woven together into a tapestry of experience that adds depth and dimension to the man you love. You see his childhood, his training, his battles, and you feel the weight of his responsibilities, the burden of leadership that he bears with such grace and dignity.

Gently, almost reverently, Ghost lowers you both to the soft grass beneath the ancient tree, his body covering yours like a protective shield. His hands roam over your curves, mapping the contours of your adopted Na'vi form, marvelling at the way your skin seems to glow in the dim light filtering through the canopy above.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that steals your breath and sets your heart racing. It's a kiss filled with tenderness and passion, a promise of the pleasures to come, and you lose yourself in the taste of him, the feel of his tongue sliding against yours, the scrape of his sharp teeth against your lower lip.

A soft moan escapes your lips as Ghost's hands explore your body, his touch leaving trails of fire in its wake. Your own hands roam over his back, tracing the lines of his muscles, the scars that mark him as a warrior and a survivor. You revel in the feel of his skin against yours, the way his body fits so perfectly against your own, like two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together.

When he breaks the kiss, you chase after his lips, unwilling to let him go, but he merely chuckles softly, his breath ghosting over your cheek as he trails his mouth along your jawline and down the column of your throat. His teeth graze your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine, and you arch into him, silently begging for more.

Ghost's lips curve into a smile against your neck as he feels you arch into his touch, your body responding eagerly to his every caress. He nips and sucks at the sensitive skin of your throat, marking you as his own, his hands sliding lower to cup the swell of your breasts, thumbs brushing over the hardened peaks of your nipples.

"So beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with desire. "My perfect mate, my cherished companion." He lifts his head to gaze down at you, his eyes dark with want, a fierce possessiveness etched into the lines of his face. "I will worship you tonight, my love, until the very stars pale in comparison to the radiance of your pleasure."

Your breath hitches as Ghost's hands find your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples in maddeningly teasing strokes. Electricity zings through your body, settling low in your belly, stoking the heat building within you. When he speaks, his words wash over you like honey, sweet and thick, filling you with a sense of belonging, of rightness.

You reach up, tangling your fingers in his hair, tugging gently to bring his face closer to yours. "Then take me," you breathe, your voice heavy with need. "Make me yours, Ghost. Claim me, body and soul, under the watchful eye of Eywa."

Your hips roll up to meet his, seeking friction, seeking completion. You want to feel him inside you, stretching you, filling you, joining you in the most intimate way possible.

With a low growl of approval, Ghost allows you to guide his face back to yours, claiming your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you both breathless. As he kisses you, his hands make quick work of your clothing, peeling away the flimsy barrier between your bodies until you're laid out bare before him, your skin glowing softly in the moonlight.

He takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, his gaze roaming over your curves with undisguised hunger, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Then, with a fluid motion, he sheds his own garments, revealing his battle-hardened body, marred by scars and tattoos, a testament to the life he's lived, the challenges he's faced.

As Ghost bares himself to you, you feel a rush of emotion swell within your chest - awe, admiration, and a deep, abiding love that threatens to overwhelm you. You sit up, reaching out to trace the lines of his scars with trembling fingers, marvelling at the strength and resilience they represent.

"My brave warrior," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. "My fierce protector." You lean in, pressing a tender kiss to the scar just above his heart, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your lips.

Ghost shudders as your lips press against his scar, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity straight to his core. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him, skin to skin, heart to heart. For a long moment, he simply holds you, savouring the feel of your body against his, the warmth of your breath mingling with his own.

When he finally speaks, his voice is low and rough, tinged with a vulnerability that few have ever heard. "And you are my heart, my home," he murmurs, his forehead resting against yours. "Without you, I am lost. With you, I am found."

Slowly, almost reverently, he lowers you both to the soft grass beneath the Tree of Voices, his body covering yours, sheltering you from the cool night air.

A soft gasp escapes your lips as Ghost's weight settles over you, his body warm and solid against yours. Your legs fall open instinctively, making room for him, inviting him in. Your hands roam over his back, tracing the contours of his muscles, mapping the landscape of his skin.

"Then let me be your compass," you whisper, tilting your hips up to meet his, seeking that delicious friction once more. "Let me guide you home, always."

You capture his lips in another kiss, this one slower, deeper, a promise of things to come. Your tongues dance, twining together in a sensual rhythm that mirrors the pulsing heat building between your thighs.

Ghost groans into the kiss, his hips rocking against yours, the hard length of his arousal sliding along your slick folds. His hands roam your body, caressing every curve, every hollow, committing the feel of you to memory. When he breaks the kiss, his eyes are dark with desire, his pupils blown wide with need.

"Guide me, then," he rasps, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back. "Lead me to paradise, my love."

With a fluid motion, Ghost shifts his hips, positioning himself at your entrance. He pauses there, poised on the brink of union, his gaze locked with yours, a silent question hanging in the air between you. In answer, you wrap your legs around his waist, drawing him closer, offering yourself to him completely.

Slowly, oh so slowly, he sinks into you, filling you inch by delicious inch. A low moan tears from his throat at the feel of you, hot and tight and perfect around him. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in, fighting for control as your inner walls flutter and clench around his throbbing length.

Your head falls back against the soft grass as Ghost fills you, a guttural moan escaping your lips at the exquisite stretch, the perfect fullness of him inside you. Your nails rake down his back, leaving faint red lines in their wake, a physical manifestation of the passion burning through your veins.

"Yes," you hiss, the word drawn out into a low keen of pleasure. "Oh, yes, Ghost...just like that..."

You arch into him, meeting each slow, deep thrust with a roll of your hips, taking him even deeper, welcoming him into the very heart of you. Your bodies move together in a ancient rhythm, as old as time itself, as natural as the turning of the earth and the rising of the moons.

The world falls away, narrowing down to this single perfect moment, this joining of flesh and spirit.

Ghost sets a slow, deep pace, his hips rolling against yours in languid strokes that stoke the fires within you higher and higher. Each thrust is measured, deliberate, designed to bring you pleasure beyond measure. One hand slides under your knee, lifting your leg higher, opening you wider, allowing him to plunge even deeper.

He watches you as he moves within you, his golden eyes dark with passion, drinking in the sight of you lost in ecstasy, your face flushed, your lips parted in sweet sighs and moans. The sound of your pleasure is music to his ears, spurring him on, driving him to take you higher still.

"Eyes on me, my love," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "I want to see you when you come undone."

Your eyes lock with Ghost's, twin pools of molten gold and liquid amber, reflecting the depth of your shared passion. In their depths, you see your own desire mirrored back at you, amplified tenfold, a reflection of the love and devotion that binds you.

"Always," you breathe, the word a whispered promise, a vow sealed in the heat of your joining. "My eyes, my heart, my soul...they're yours, now and forever."

Your hips rise to meet his, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body, coiling tighter and tighter in your core. The tension builds, winding ever higher, until you're teetering on the brink, balanced on the razor's edge of release.

"Ghost," you gasp, his name a prayer on your lips, a plea and a benediction all in one.

Ghost feels the change in your body, the way your muscles tense and quiver beneath him, the quickening of your breath, the hitch in your moan. He knows you're close, teetering on the precipice of climax, and he wants nothing more than to send you hurtling over the edge into oblivion.

But not yet. Not just yet.

With a herculean effort, he stills his hips, holding himself deep inside you, his forehead pressed to yours, his breath mingling with yours in the scant space between your faces. His hands find your wrists, pinning them above your head, a gesture of dominance, of control.

"Not yet, my love," he whispers, his voice rough with barely restrained desire. "Not until I say."

A whimper escapes your throat at the sudden denial, your body aching, yearning for the release that hovers just out of reach. You writhe beneath him, trying to find friction, to spur him on, but he holds you fast, his grip on your wrists unyielding.

"Please," you beg, the word torn from your throat, raw and needy. "Ghost, please..."

You don't even know what you're begging for anymore, too far gone in the haze of lust, desperate for him to set you free, to let you fall. Tears of frustration prick at the corners of your eyes, your entire being focused on the point where you're joined, where he fills you so perfectly, so completely.

Ghost drinks in the sight of you, pleading and desperate beneath him, your tears glistening in the moonlight like precious gems. It takes every ounce of his self-control not to give in to your pleas, to sheath himself to the hilt and let you ride out your climax on his cock.

But he wants more than that for you. More than a fleeting moment of pleasure.

Slowly, torturously, he begins to move again, his hips undulating in a sensual rhythm that builds the tension within you with excruciating slowness. Each roll of his hips grinds against your clit, sends sparks of sensation shooting up your spine, but it's not enough, not nearly enough to push you over the edge.

"That's it, my love," he croons, his voice a seductive purr.

Each deliberate roll of Ghost's hips sends waves of exquisite torture crashing over you, stoking the fires within you to new heights. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your chest heaving as you struggle to maintain some semblance of control, of coherency.

But it's a losing battle, and you can feel yourself slipping further and further under his spell with each passing second. Your world narrows down to the slide of his skin against yours, the stretch of your walls around his thick length, the coil of pleasure tightening in your belly.

Ghost can feel your surrender, the way your body yields to his touch, to his command. It's a heady feeling, knowing that he wields such power over you, that he can bring you to the very brink of ecstasy and hold you there, suspended in a state of pure, agonizing bliss.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep, claiming you, consuming you. One hand releases your wrists to trail down your side, over the curve of your hip, coming to rest on your thigh. With a gentle pressure, he guides your leg up and over his shoulder, opening you wider, allowing him to sink even deeper into your welcoming heat.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing fire down the column of your throat, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin.

A strangled cry tears from your throat as Ghost sinks impossibly deeper, the new angle sending shockwaves of pleasure ricocheting through your core. Your hands scrabble for purchase on his sweat-slicked back, nails raking down his skin, leaving crescent-shaped indents in their wake.

The burn of his teeth on your neck only adds to the maelstrom of sensations, the slight pain blending seamlessly with the overwhelming pleasure until you can no longer tell where one ends and the other begins. Your hips buck wildly, seeking more, craving more of this sweet, sweet torment. "Ghost!" you keen, his name a prayer, a plea, a benediction on your lips. "Oh, fuck, Ghost... Please..."

What you're begging for, you no longer know.

Your desperate cries, the way your body writhes beneath him, the sharp sting of your nails on his skin - it's all driving Ghost closer to the edge. He can feel his own release building, coiling tighter and tighter at the base of his spine, but he grits his teeth, determined to hold off until he's brought you to completion.

With a low growl, he redoubles his efforts, his hips snapping forward with increasing urgency, each thrust striking that spot deep inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. His hand slides between your bodies, finding your clit, circling the sensitive nub with the pad of his thumb, pushing you ever closer to the precipice.

"Let go, my love," he rasps, his breath hot against your ear. "I've got you."

Ghost's words, rough with passion, are the final catalyst you need. With a keening wail, your body bows off the floor, convulsing violently as your orgasm crashes over you in wave after wave of mind-numbing ecstasy. Your inner walls clamp down around Ghost's throbbing cock, rippling and fluttering as they try to milk him dry.

Through the haze of your own pleasure, you can feel him pulsing inside you, his rhythm faltering as he nears his own peak. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him on, wanting to feel him lose control, to watch as he shatters above you.

The sensation of your walls clamping down around him, squeezing him like a velvet vice, is too much for Ghost to withstand. With a hoarse shout of your name, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his hips jerking erratically as he finds his release.

His seed pulses hot and heavy, flooding your already drenched channel, marking you, claiming you as his. He collapses onto you, careful not to crush you with his weight, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he rides out the aftershocks of his climax.

For long moments, neither of you move, both lost in the aftermath of your shared passion. Slowly, Ghost lifts his head, his golden eyes meeting yours, dark with satiation and something else, something deeper, more profound.