Chapter Text
Your hands clawed through the air, reaching for something, anything, that was growing further and further out of reach. Raindrops made contact with your body in all directions but above you, feeling like you were racing against the rain itself to meet the ground.
One of the most enjoyable things you would say you've done is to jump out of planes. Especially in your line of work.
The feeling of skydiving before it even happened left you jittery with multiple levels of excitement, crazed levels of adrenaline swarming through your veins, getting you more pumped up than any kind of drug known to man.
It was indescribable, falling through the clouds, the harsh winds digging through your spread-out arms and legs, crossing paths with the clouds, higher than any bird you've seen reach.
You'd stay up in the skies forever if you could, but one rule you wish you didn't have to accept about sky diving was there no other way to go but down.
You weren't exactly skydiving, in this case.
A loud, sharp cry left your mouth as you slammed into a rusted sheet metal roofing, left arm painfully breaking your fall. The sheet gave in from the pressure, breaking free from the roof's slanted foundation, sending you downwards with it. The rubber of your boots frantically scraped against the steel, your body twisting as you tried to ahold of anything to stop you from falling any further.
Rain made everything too wet and difficult to get a proper hold of, your body quickly tumbling off the edge of the building. Your boots came into contact with a massive, bright blue tarp, catching you momentarily until the scaffolding keeping the tarp supported gave in by the harsh contact of your weight, quickly crumbling down. It broke your fall for the most part, having you sliding downwards until you rolled towards the dirt ground to a stop.
Cold, dirty water from lingering mud puddles around you quickly seeped into your uniform, adding chills to the vigorous shivering your body felt as it struggled to process what the hell just happened.
You couldn’t even begin to comprehend the world of pain you were in, your entire left arm receiving the most of it.
You remained on the ground completely dazed, feeling cool patters of rain kiss and roll down your cheeks, seeping further into the fabric of your clothes and hair.
The helicopter, you recalled first when your mind settled. You fell out of the helicopter while your team was retreating.
You slowly opened your eyes, catching a glimpse of different colored clothed masses on the ground. Murky, maroon-colored liquid splattered multiple areas around them, mingling with the rain.
Bodies. Innocent, mutilated bodies.
Nothing could hide the dark, blackened indents on the ground around them. No amount of rain and mud could hide the various chunks of remains that laid scattered.
It was an ambush to a town of innocents. What looked like a normal, rustic town was ransacked by some cartel you could've cared less about, not even remembering their name. They made their money by terrorizing the locals that called this place home. Those who could afford to leave did before they came to collect, but those who didn’t were left to fend for themselves.
Faint screams and rapid gunfire erupted from down the streets, making itself known that that those who were on the giving end of the gun weren’t finished.
You had to find cover. Fast.
Dragging yourself to your feet, the rush had your head sway and vision blur. Barely taking a step forward made your left knee wobble before completely giving out. You fell back down to the ground with a loud hiss, feeling the pain from surviving such a fall erupt throughout the rest of your body. Miraculously, you had enough strength to push yourself back up, quickly stumbling towards cover.
Your legs gave out again as you slipped into an alleyway, wincing and grunting in pain. Crawling towards the closest wall, you relaxed against it, taking a firm moment to catch your breath. Nothing felt broken, despite a gunshot that grazed your leg. It quickly occurred to you that you lost your rifle at some point, but you couldn't remember when.
Remembering your handgun, you reach towards your holster, sighing in relief to find it still secured. You don't remember how many bullets you had left, but you had to make the most of it count.
"Mirage? Do you copy?" A raspy tone in your earpiece made you jump, completely forgetting you had your radio attached to your vest.
“Simon??” You gasped in shock, bringing your fingers to the buttons.
“Mirage! Christ, You’re alive!” You could hear loud gunfire on his end. He survived the crash??
“What’s your location?” He quickly asked while you pushed yourself to your feet again.
“I don’t know!” You exhaled hard, biting back the urge to grunt when you tried to put any more weight than you could stand on your injured leg. “I’m-shit!" You stopped after taking a few steps forward, wincing again before leaning against the wall for further support.
“Mirage? What's your location?”
“Fuck, I don’t know! There's no one around to ask for directions!”
“What’s around you? Any identifiable places?”
You glanced around, leaning against the wall for further support and cover. You glanced over towards the direction you came from, seeing the ruined tarp shielding an abandoned vending stand from the rain. If that tarp split through the middle, you would've suffered more severe injuries.
“The market. The one with all the fruit stands, where the cartel first ambushed the locals.”
“That’s close by, find somewhere safe. I'm comin' to get you."
Well, shit. You cursed in your head over and over again while checking your gun. Great, he was coming to save you again from another mess. Guilt started to weigh down on your shoulders, expecting the worst to be said when he finds you.
A loud voice broke the rain towards you, followed by gunfire hitting the wall you were hiding by. Quickly getting up, you took off with a painful sprint, heading into the closest building with an open door.
You had hoped they didn't see you enter in through the building by the side, but with your slow stumble and loud footsteps hitting the concrete floors, you were a fool to think that.
You had no choice but to seek cover, hiding yourself just a small supply closet just in time to hear three pairs of footsteps enter the building, flashlights waving around while searching for you.
“Mirage, What's your location?” Ghost's voice filled your left ear, but you couldn't answer, hearing the footsteps tread closer towards your hiding place. The entire building was dark, making it difficult to see your hand in front of your face.
“Mirage?”
Nothing.
“Y/n?? Do you copy??”
The moment a flash of light came towards the supply closet, you jumped out towards your first victim. Extending your arms out, you wrapped them around his head, the sudden shift causing him to lose his balance.
While falling to the ground, keeping your tightest hold around the man's neck, you fired three shots towards where you could make out the next man standing, seeing him slump back against the nearest wall. The next three shots you directed towards the third man, quickly bringing your gun towards the man's forehead in your grip while struggling in your grasp.
Click. Click. Your bullets ran out.
Abandoning your gun, you wrapped your other arm over his neck, binding your legs around his torso to cling to him as best as you could. You forced him to his front while in your struggles, His hands clutched hold of your wrists, trying to twist them to loosen your grip. The stinging pain was almost enough to release your grip before his arms fell limp to his sides. You exhaled, releasing his body before crawling off to the side.
Panting hard, you tried looking along the ground for a gun you could use, reaching over to grab ahold of the abandoned flashlight. Faint footsteps splashed through puddles outside, heavy boots making contact with the concrete floor in the entryway.
Quickly turning off the flashlight, you crawled back towards your hiding spot, listening as the footsteps entered the room.
Holding your breath, listening for those heavy footsteps shift as they wandered into the room, peering down at all the bodies. Glancing down, you threw the flashlight towards the other side of the room as a distraction.
The footsteps stopped, the stranger halting from the clanking of the flashlight.
A harsh, blunt object hit the back of his head, catching him off guard. The wood you struck him with broke on contact, splintering on the floor. He turned quick, barely catching a glimpse of you before you wrapped your arms over his head, using all of your strength and body weight to throw him towards the ground.
Grabbing your knife from its sheath, you struck it down towards the faint outline of his head. He raised his forearm, making harsh contact with yours to stop the knife from striking his chest. Grabbing your wrist with his other hand, he pushed hard against you with immense strength, your own limited amount depleting fast.
He disarmed you faster than you expected, pushing against your chest until your back hit the ground. A sudden gurgle came a man you couldn't see, the sounds of steel repeatedly jamming into flesh. Maneuvering yourself away from the attacker, listening to the gurgles dying down.
“You missed one.” That familiar gruff voice forced you to pause.
You blinked. In the darkness of this room, you couldn’t even tell the difference between the masked enemies and him.
“Ghost...?” Oh shit. Oh fuck.
A barrage of gunfire rained upon the wood boarded windows, your frantic fighting gathering some unwanted attention. Ghost clutched hold of your body and moved you towards cover from the gunfire. You clung to him, wincing at the bullets shooting through the walls, various shells clinking onto the ground.
"Come on!" Quickly dragging you off your feet, He took the lead to lead you out of the building.
“Are you wounded?” Ghost saw you wincing when heading back outside, the uneven, rocky ground almost making you lose your balance.
“Before I fell,” You winced. “While they were shooting at us. It’s superficial, I can still fight.”
"It's a miracle you're still standing." Ghost pulled out his handgun, pressing it into your hands. "Must've landed much less graceful that I did."
Then he did... ?
"Did you crash??" Terror quickly filled your voice.
"No. Jumped out."
“You jumped out of-!!“
"Quiet!" He took the lead again, quickly approaching a corner of another building for shelter. Peering over, he noticed an abandoned vehicle that looked similar enough to those the cartel drove.
“What the hell were you thinking?? Jumping out of the helicopter like that?!” He could only spare a narrowed glare at your words, holding his tongue to prevent any remark of your irony from slipping.
"I'll fill you in when we get outta here, these areas are too surrounded by cartel." Quickly approaching the car, he pulled the handle before seeing it was locked. There wasn't enough time to look for keys, so he did the only thing he could think of.
Raising his arm, he forced his elbow through the glass. It shattered upon impact, allowing him to unlock the doors and climb into the driver's seat. You made your way to the passenger's side, looking behind you to make sure there was no one had witnessed the act.
“Where are you taking us?”
“We need to the outskirts of this place, it turned into a ghost town before the ambush began. We ditch this and travel on foot when we’re halfway there. Any enemy so much as even see this out of the warzone will get suspicious enough to follow.”
“You sure they won’t find us there?”
“It’s the only option we have. We can use one of the houses for shelter, after that we just have to wait.”
The storm rolled on into the late hours of the evening, judging by your watch. The gunfire didn't cease from what you could audibly tell, heading towards north side where the wealthier held up in their own homes, battling those they could.
It felt so awkward to not fight back, leaving you feeling more tense and annoyed the longer you waited in this abandoned home. The residents had left in a hurry, leaving the lights on and doors wide open. They've been long since turned off and closed, Ghost insisting that any kind of light could attract any sort of attention.
“The purpose of a safe house is also to hide the fact that we’re in it. Get away from the damn window.” You heard that raspy tone speak towards no one other than you, driving your attention away from picking at your fingernails.
You didn’t say anything back, hiding your blatant expression underneath your gator mask. The rain left you soaked, but all you could really do was take off your gear and set it on the nearest surface and wait until the clothes on your back dried, keeping your gun nearby in case an enemy showed up.
Ghost sat alone in the open dining room, free from his tactical equipment laid out on the table in front of him. He held onto his gun, peering down towards the ground while seeming lost in thought over something you didn't know.
From where you stood by the living room window, peering out from a small slit through the closed curtains, you couldn't help but peer over at him every now and then. Despite just a bit ago, Ghost had been dead silent when you entered the house, blocking the entrance off for good measure.
You noticed the skull face cover attached to the balaclava was crudely sewn into more of the masks he wore, the white paint on the fabric changing detail depending on his type of uniform, adding a unique ruggedness to his intimidating appearance,
What did it mean when he did that? It had to be more than just spicing up his looks. He tightened and secured the mask so it could never come off, and yet the last time, the only time he was with you, he peeled it off so easily. Was he succumbing further to those dark, heavy thoughts that terrorized his mind that it caused him to seal himself further into the persona he created?
Or were you just overthinking it because you were bored? You didn't really know.
“What happened to the others, Ghost?" You spoke up, peeling off your mask. "Did they crash?”
“No. They leveled out before I left. It was too hot to land again in the area, so I told them to go on without me.”
“Why?”
“Because it wasn't safe for them to remain any longer. Pilot was running out of fuel, we suffered too many casualties." Ghost rested his gun on the table, slowly rising from his seat. "We're holdin' up here, at least until it dies down out there. Once it settles, I'll give our location and we’ll be outta here before morning.”
You kept quiet, looking down at your hands. At the very least, you were beyond relieved that they made it out alright. You wouldn't know what you would've done if you found out they all died. If you could even turn back time and survive the fall again.
“I know you let go.”
That single sentence made your blood run cold.
“I didn’t.” You looked up in shock, seeing him glare at you from where he stood. Now it made sense why his eyes were drenched in irritation the moment he laid eyes on you, why his tense shoulders never settled, why he had a bitter taste in his mouth the moment he saw you alive.
“You did.”
“I didn’t let go of him, Ghost.”
"Price watched you."
"He saw wrong. He got shot in the damn arm, and it's raining to hell outside. I slipped."
“Do you think you can lie to me at a time like this?” He slowly approached, letting you make out the faint shadow of his outline come to a stop into the living room entryway. In response, you stood your ground, trying to stand your own foundation you crudely built at the very last minute.
"I'm not lying. You think I would do something like that?!" Your tone quickly raised, leaving Ghost very well aware of every ounce of denial you used.
“Lower that tone of yours, Mirage.” Ghost ordered.
“Oh, fuck that!!” You barked back at him. “We’re in the middle of nowhere and you’re expecting me to take orders from you right now?? I didn't let go of Price!" You gestured towards yourself, your frantically beating heart ringing loudly in your head.
"Tell me the damn truth, Y/n!" Ghost ordered from you again, making you thrash your arms out to your sides before turning away.
This man, this goddamn bastard. He wasn't going to believe anything you say. Is that why he came after you? Or did you die from the fall and come face to face with Azrael himself in your own personal purgatory?
Or was he just driving you absolutely crazy? This seemed like a much more reasonable possibility.
"I'm gonna get that damn truth out of you, kid. One way or another."
"Oh, great idea Lieutenant. I'm just gonna go ahead and remind you that I knocked you on your ass before we got here, I'll be more than glad to do it again."
"Enough!" The sound of his boots proceeded to get closer and closer, causing the hair on the back of your neck to raise. No matter what, his menacing demeanor didn't always only work on scaring enemies. It's not something you'd wanna admit, but being on the victims end with Ghost staring daggers in your direction was just as alarming as simply looking him in the eye when his anger isn’t directed at you.
"The truth." His voice was close, frightening you.
"It was raining, Price was shot, and I slipped. We were hanging out of the damn helicopter, for fuck's sake!" Repeating those words again, you ran your hands through your hair with a grunt.
"There was no way he could've held onto me for that long!"
There it was. That little slip.
You knew this; a sharp chill washing over your shoulders when it was set out. Shivers rippled throughout your body like droplets of water disturbing a calm pool.
Ghost didn't say a word, he didn't need to. He saw through your wall of cover before you even built it, knowing what you had chosen to do. He only stared, balling his fists in an attempt to settle the shock piercing his nerves.
Ghost knew you couldn’t lie about it now. Price was his witness, there was no way you could deny it any longer.
The silence the two of you were left in was killing you.
You remembered Price grabbing ahold of your hand, catching you before you were lost to the chaos down far below.
The helicopter slanted after a missile struck its side. You would’ve been lost for good if Price hadn’t caught hold of you, though he would’ve almost been in the same predicament if Ghost hadn’t captured a firm grip on Price’s other arm, holding on as best as he could while trying his hardest to keep inside the helicopter.
The worst of it all? The rain.
The damn storm that drenched everything, causing a struggle for your gloved hand to hold his. Faint sparks erupted from the corner of your eye from the bullets rattling against the helicopter, the enemies making a last-ditch attempt to take you all down.
Price let out an immense grunt of pain when a burst of blood erupted from his left shoulder, one of the bullets puncturing his arm. You weren't spared from the fire, a bullet or two gracing against your flailing legs and right elbow. His agonizing cries grew louder while trying to hold onto you, his injuries proving quite difficult to handle.
Rain and sweat quickly made your fingers sticky, trying to hold on as best as you could while the pilot struggled to gain its balance. The struggle made it harder for Ghost to hold on, the immense weight with the improper balance to find his footing.
That's when it hit you. You knew Ghost could only hold on for so long. Price was injured, risking his injured arm to hold onto you. The more seconds he spent doing so, the more damaged his arm would be.
You quickly knew this, feeling your heart sink to your stomach. Hearing Price shouting at you to hold on mixed in with Ghost’s shouting did something to you, striking your mind sharper than a gunshot to the head.
You couldn’t. It was stupid, idiotic, insane.
But what choice did you really have?
You didn't want to risk Price's death, or Ghost’s. You didn't wanna do this to them again.
Taking a quick, deep breath, you reached your other arm to grab onto his hand tighter. Price was the first to realize your fingers struggle to pry against his, forcing him to squeeze your hand harder to reinforce his failing grip. You made eye contact with the man, seeing the horrific look in his eyes mixed with immense pain. He knew what you were trying to do and immediately called you off in a thousand words in his head. He wouldn’t let you, you couldn’t.
Giving all the strength you could muster, you bent his fingers just enough to release your hand from his, feeling yourself slip away.
“No, no!! Mirage!!” Price yelled towards you, extending his hand out as you grew more and more out of reach.
“Y/N!!!” Ghost shouted, witnessing your hand slipping out of Price’s, your body disappearing from sight when the helicopter shifted again. The tilt gave Ghost just enough leverage to yank Price back inside, helping the man get his proper bearings when the pilot finally leveled himself out.
Price was the first to immediately look out the helicopter, frantic eyes searching for where you could’ve fallen. Ghost looked on ahead, not seeing your body land on any of the nearby rooftops, which means you could’ve fallen in between them somewhere. The drop was high enough to kill someone if they jumped carelessly, but if you had fallen on the roof of any building, chances where you might've survived.
“She let go!” Price shouted in alarm, clutching the thick grid ropes lining the helicopter walls. “Goddamnit! She let go of me!”
All the shock, all the horror that rattled in Ghost's mind seemed to halt with those words. Why in bloody hell did you let go??
Peering out again towards the buildings, he saw smoke coming from various hotspots in the center of town, thinking you must've fallen there. If you weren’t dead from the fall, you were gonna be if you had to fight alone.
Ghost wasn’t going to let that happen.
“It was either me or him,” You determinedly confessed, speaking in a clear, firm tone. “Price was wounded, holding onto me was making it worse. I didn’t want to risk him getting killed. Not again.”
His boots shifted against the ground, the man turning away from the truth you spoke.
Again, what in the absolute hell were you thinking?
This wasn't brave of you; this wasn't courageous or bold. This was petrifying, humiliating even. You willingly chose to let go, leaving him to think that he failed to keep you alive. That you were gone in an instant, just like that.
“That was selfish.” Ghost sneered, turning his head back to you. "That's the most selfish thing you could've ever done, Y/n!!"
“Selfish??" You raised your voice in return. "No one asked you to jump out of the damn helicopter!”
“No one asked you to let go!” With two steps forward, he stood much closer to you than before, his voice rattling your ears. “I had you! Price had you! If you had held on for a few seconds longer, we wouldn't be out here! Did absolutely nothing I taught you before even stick through that thick skull of yours?!”
You swallowed hard, keeping your demeanor as stern as possible. You tried, that's all you could really do. You put your life at risk for the sake of that slim chance Price would live, and this is what you got for it? Why was he so agitated about it? God, his aggressive personality really annoyed you.
Breathing rage through your nose, you exhaled before shaking your head, giving your shoulders a small, stiff shrug.
“I don't know, Lieutenant. I guess none of your lessons stuck, wasn’t driven in deep enough.”
Silence followed your words, leaving nothing but the heavens crying outside.
Again, he said nothing. Whether you shocked him or angered him enough to where shouting was no longer an option, you didn't care anymore. Turning away, you felt a sense of anticipated dread from your actions, but they were your actions, not his. Whether it was the right thing to do or not was still rattling in your head, there was absolutely nothing you could do about it now.
You peered out from between the windows again, stepping a bit closer than before. The loud chorus of rain continued on; any ounce of light was nonexistent outside these walls. What was once a semi comfortable ambience inside this house now turned into bitter filled tension. You weren’t happy that you had caused it, but what choice did you have?
Every now and then, harsh lightning struck through the waterlogged, pillowy clouds, igniting a split second of view for you to make out other houses with old, run-down vehicles parked to the side, focusing on the images for more than a hundredth time. You turned your attention away from it after growing bored, slowly crossing your arms.
A loud rumble of thunder pierced the skies, making the walls tremble in fear. The harsh echo was almost enough to muffle Ghost's footsteps stomping closer towards you, grabbing ahold of your upper arms out of nowhere.
"Wh-what are you doing!?" You asked him, your feet frantically shuffling along as he maneuvered you away from the window. Your first thought was that he heard an enemy breaking in and was pushing you towards cover to avoid the gunfire.
All thoughts of that possibility quickly ripped itself from your mind when you were pressed against the nearest wall, leading down a dark hallway. Your cheek flattened against the textured surface, your damp shirt sticking further against your skin. He grabbed your forearms, holding them behind your back with a single hand, sending bone chilling shivers throughout your entire body.
"You wanna repeat that to me again?" He growled into your ear, pressing you up further against the surface.
In the darkness of this once lively home, you could only imagine Ghost glaring down at you with a look that would kill.
“Goddamnit- “You hissed at the resistance you couldn’t push past, making you grunt louder the more you tried.
“I asked you a damn question!” His hand grabbed the back of your head, forcing you to crane your neck a bit to look at him from the corner of your eye.
You’ve stared death in the face millions of times before, training yourself in many different ways to deflect and avoid the inevitable way too soon. There was no special tactic to tear his gaze off yours, no unique maneuver you were specially trained. Those blue eyes of his were dark and potent, narrowed with a deadly, predator-like rage.
You couldn’t look away, trying to understand what he wanted from you. Despite feeling your muscles screaming from soreness after being roughly handled, if he wanted to hear you repeat it, you gladly would with a few more colorful phrases. Although, their was a small part of you that felt something different. Being trapped like this, with Ghost as your captor, it had you thinking.
Maneuvering your foot back, you pushed against his leg hard while leaning back, thinking it would falter his steps, but it didn’t. He acknowledged the failed attempt by reinforcing his hold on your arms, squeezing your wrists harder. You tried again, turning your torso to the right to get just enough leverage to lean against the wall with your right shoulder, hoping you could push him off somehow.
Again, you failed.
Removing his hand from your back, he pressed himself further against you until you had no room to squeeze your way out, planting his hand on the space right beside your head. You exhaled, making out the faint details of the bones decorating his glove. The warmth of his body radiated against your back, warming your skin significantly. The sensations left you tingling, the fear being replaced by excitement and acute arousal.
Glancing up at him from the corner of your eye, you made eye contact with those darkened, narrowed eyes of his, fiery with cold anger. Cheeks glowing from further excitement, you reached your hand out to press against him, your fingers meeting the fabric of his jacket. His eyes flickered downwards, peering down at your fingers curling into the fabric before giving it a firm tug, as if you were getting him to press against you even further.
You dirty little thing, he quickly realized. You were getting a rise out of this.
Ghost met your gaze again, understanding the change in your expression instantly. Arousal shot through your veins faster than an adrenaline stim to the chest, igniting a longing hunger to what he could give you. It was an open invitation to your silent demands, feeling the tug on his coat grow stronger, your eager eyes pleading with him to release you.
No, he was the one holding you as his hostage, keeping you against the wall, contemplating the growing urge in his gut to take what he wanted from you, knowing very well that you would very easily give it to him.
He wouldn’t even need to ask.
“For fuck’s sake, Y/n.“ He grunted, releasing your hands from your back. You weren’t free to leave, the given space now that your hands were gone was quickly filled when he grabbed your hips, pulling them back against his waist. Bracing your hands flat on the wall, your core ignited to life at the rough gesture.
His rough, gloved hands found your belt buckle, hastily prying the accessory apart. A small sigh of relief left you as he unzipped your pants, gloved fingers trailing along the soft skin of your abdomen, the rough texture leaving you shivering. One hand ran up your shirt, cupping your breast through your bra and squeezing hard. He cupped your pussy over your underwear, putting enough pressure to keep your hips repeatedly pressing back, involuntarily rocking yourself against his cock.
His hand went from your breast towards your throat, applying enough pressure to tilt your head slightly back.
“Simon-“
"Keep your mouth shut," He utters, the hard skull plate of his mask pressing against the side of your head. Slipping his glove off, he shoved his hand beneath your pants once more.
"Not another goddamn word outta you." Your hips bucked as he slid his fingers through your folds, making direct contact with your clit. An uncontrollable whine leaves your mouth as he begins rubbing circles onto your bundle of nerves, your arousal instantly coating his fingers.
"Shit, you're fuckin’ drenched." He hissed, "Have you gone mad? You pull stupid stunts like this, and this is how you respond to me?" His tone was taunting, but some growing part of him was really enjoying this. Your body was so responsive to anything he said and did, his voice working wonders. But this, his anger, still festered in the back of his mind.
He pondered over what else he could do to you; wondering what makes you tick and what makes you scream.
You were so sensitive from how long it's been since the last time he took you, imagining his fingers, his cock, his tongue... anything and everything. You were slowly crumbling apart just by how his calloused fingers felt alone. He shoved two fingers into your eager cunt, leaving you gasping at the sudden stretch.
Your thighs closed involuntarily around Ghost’s hand, causing him to use his knee to create distance between your legs. Keeping you secured in place; he quickly started fucking you with his fingers before you could properly adjust.
You felt a sharp slap against your ass when your legs tried closing again, the lingering sting warming your skin before returning his hand to your throat. It was growing too difficult to keep up with very quickly, the heel of his roughened palm stimulating your clit vigorously, showing no signs of slowing down.
With a quick intrusion of a third finger, he curled upwards, irritating that little spot inside you leaving you gasping. Clutching his forearm, hips thrashing and leaning into his touch when the blooming warmth of your orgasm started drawing near, feeling so full and yet already imagining how more stretched out you'd be around his cock.
"Good girl," Ghost mumbles, making you shiver. "Perfect little greedy cunt of yours knows what it wants, doesn’t it?”
"F-Fuck, Simon!" His name left your lips, mixed with hitched whines before you could come. Ghost's hand covered your mouth, preventing your whining cries to be acknowledged.
"Let your cunt apologize to me first before that mouth gets you into any more trouble. You understand?" Simon whispers into your ear, gradually slowing his fingers before increasing once again. His fingers scissor and curling inside, the wet squelching reaching his ears.
He's angry.
He's supposed to be angry at you, but why is he giving in and giving you so much in so little time? The pleasure didn't feel wrong by any means. But hell, did he know all the right things to do.
Your hands balled into fists against the wall, nails slightly scraping the surface while curling your fingers. How you craved to have them tangled in his dirty brown locks, hearing him grunt while tugging unnecessarily hard.
The growing fire in your belly grew stronger than the soreness in your body, almost drowning the lingering ache in your back while leaning against his chest. It grew closer, your whimpers crackling into much louder, still muffled cries. Your right hand gripped his forearm, your left clutching a firm hold on his hand over your mouth. Various whines blurred under the prison of his palm, reaching different octaves of fast-growing delight. You bucked against his hand, rocking your hips to chase that piercing high only he could give you.
Ghost retracted his fingers from your throbbing cunt, capturing the moment your brows furrowed in frustration of your denied orgasm. You clenched over nothing, gasping in shock by what he did before groaning into his palm. Was this how he was going to treat you now? To toy with you as much as he pleased and denying you any release?
It took a second before his fingers returned again, quickly picking off where he had left off. It came faster this time, building up from the solid foundation that was built, but again, his fingers retreated as he paid attention to the signs. Your shoulders trembled, your body tensing up just moments before your climax could claim you in its arms before Ghost tugged you away from it.
He repeated it two more times, each distance growing shorter than the last. Again and again, his palm growing drenched as your wetness smeared down your inner thighs. You were begging him to let you come, every word too muffled beyond comprehension.
He didn't care if he could make out you crying out his name, pleading that you'd do anything he wanted to achieve your release. You even went as far as tugging the sleeve of his jacket up to his elbow, digging your nails into his forearm in a weak attempt to pry his hand away from your misfit mouth.
You were surprised, shocked actually, beyond shocked at his sudden and brute display of strength.
This show of power over you had your core igniting to life, making you feel warmer than ever before. Was that crazy of you? Insane even, to be excited by his anger? Masochistic?
He stopped once more, feeling your thighs quivering violently from your lack of release. Groaning louder than before, you squeezed your eyes shut, panting harshly through your nose while your body trembled in pure agitation. Your body trembled with exhaustion and frustration, your body going through a cold sweat.
"Whatever the fuck I want?" Ghost then asked, his voice growing more hoarse, rough and lowered against your neck. The teeth attached to his mask dug into your skin, heaving crooked indents on your skin that left you tingling, making you swallow. All you could do was nod. Whatever he wanted.
Ghost hums against your neck, his hot breath making you clench. Your juices drip down and wrap around his wrist, making him curse as he rolls your wetness in between his fingers. He resumes fingering you harder and faster, chasing the feeling of your cunt tightening for him, and only him.
“Come for me, girl. That’s right, that’s fucking right.” Ghost muttered into your skin, coaxing you to feel every blissful second of your fast approaching orgasm. You feel your legs begin to shake as your core tightens, your head falling back against his shoulder. In merely seconds, you're close to cumming all over his hand, your begs and screams muffled to his ears, pleading for him to not deny you this release.
“That's it. Thaaat's it, you fucking slut." Ghost muttered his degrading praise you when you finally reach your peak, crying and moaning into his palm. Your back arched off of him, your pussy clenching over his fingers tightly as he thrusted them into you, repeatedly hitting your pleasure spot, your nerves burning and stinging with delight.
Heavy breaths and whimpered moans leave your mouth as you float back down to reality, a shudder shaking your shoulders every now and then. Ghost continued finger-fucking you through your high, coming to an abrupt stop before you crossed the brink of overstimulation.
Finally, his hand left your mouth, allowing you to take in full breaths of air. It drove him wild, almost crazy even, to watch you come from peak denial.
"Taste yourself, sweetheart." He grunted, pressing his wet fingers against your tongue for you to suck his digits clean.
The pride in his voice was so clear as you sucked on his fingers, breathing though your nose while running your tongue over the pads and in between. A faint hum you made abruptly cut off with a gag when he pushed his fingers further, pressing right against your tongue.
He took his sweet time in taking them out of your mouth before forcing them in further, hearing you slightly choke against his digits. Hearing you struggle on his fingers alone left him groaning at the thought of his cock replacing his hand, adoring the visual idea of your throat closing around him as your eyes teared up. You couldn't help but think the exact same thing, wondering how exactly his big cock could fit in your mouth. It was an absolutely filthy thought, but it had you blushing like a mad woman in the sun. Choking on his fingers had you whining more louder than you intended, feeling slightly embarrassed at the way this minor degrading action was turning you into.
And yet, your desire for him grew deeper and hotter in your core, making you wetter and even more desperate for his next move. Ghost could only watch your mind process what has been done before altering your actions, eyes widened from shock quickly filling up with even more lust than before, pushing your body further in his arms for him to use as he pleased.
Watching this happen firsthand was doing something to him. Watching you; The battle-scarred, firm yet cheery attitude sniper grow more submissive to him, the Ghost; the cold-hearted, calculated killer, whining for him, pleading to him with your eyes alone for him to break you. He only grew harder knowing the submissive position he currently had you in. All just for him.
It was almost like owned you: letting him do what he wanted as if you were his, and only his. He pulled his soaked fingers out of your mouth, letting you take in a deep breath. Trickles of saliva rolled down your neck as his hand went to your pussy, abusing your poor nub once again. A loud whimper of Ghost's name left your lips before breaking off into another moan, overstimulation sinking its thorns into your spine.
"Quit squirming." Ghost took you by your waist and clutched you further to his chest, bear hugging you to keep you from moving away from him. He tugged your pants further downwards, squeezing his arm around you as a warning to do as you were told.
"Good girl," He dragged out those two words, the sounds of his belt being undone following shortly after. Your head pressed against the cool wall, taking away a lingering pain from your tensed shoulders as you waited. His thick, aching cock slid right between your thighs, pre-cum mingling with your arousal.
A low grunt vibrated through his chest, feeling copious amounts of your wetness coat along the shaft. Your pussy clenches at the sensation, your inner core burning in anticipated delight. "Do you think you deserve my cock after what you've done?" He grabs hold of your jaw, firm fingers squeezing down on your cheeks.
“No," You weakly confessed, shivering from the tone of voice. "I don't, but I want it."
"It's unlikely you'll be gettin' it.” You were barely listening, focusing on his cock sliding in between your thighs so smoothly. “I could just leave you here right now and leave-"
“No! Don't-" You perked up instantly, not wanting to be denied again.
"Then. Beg." He squeezed his arm around you tighter, emphasizing each word with a deep thrust in between your thighs.
"Please," You whimpered, grabbing his wrist with both hands. "Please, Simon. Please."
He exhaled sternly through his nose, clutching your face closer, deciding if you sounded sincere in your statement. He wanted to leave you alone in this vacant house, even going as far as to tie you up so you wouldn't have any way of giving yourself the satisfaction you desperately craved.
As angry as it made him, he screwed himself over from all of this taunting and teasing, your eager hole crying for his cock.
A blunt pressure stole the air from your lungs when he finally sank into you, his cock spreading your soaked, hungry walls wide open. Your voice became strained, his mask digging into the side of your head, leaving you listening to his satisfied grunting.
"Shiiit, you're so tight." Ghost growled, clutching the meat of your thighs. He almost felt like he barely fit, leaving just about an inch and a half unable to slip inside any further, making you feel incredibly full.
"Maybe you did this on purpose, gettin' us out here in the middle of nowhere so no one can hear you scream." Ghost growled into your skin, trailing his hand down to your neck. "So no one but me can hear how good I fuck you, and only me."
Ghost tightens his fingers around your throat until you could almost no longer get air into your lungs. The tight squeeze had him feel your heartbeat increasing even more, finding some form of lust fueled excitement in the pleasure.
He thought that was what had him feeling you wetter than usual. Why the squelching of your juices was so much louder, why his entrance into you was just a tiny bit easier. Granted, with how big he was and how small you were, getting yourself used to him was a bit of a challenge, but in this state, you didn't care if he ended up breaking you for good.
His mind was enveloped in the raw domination that he was exuding. You were so easy to manhandle and control, as he all but lifted you up in his muscular arms, moving you up and down his cock like you were nothing more than a doll, stuffing you completely full.
You quickly grew more vocal, bracing your hands against the wall as his cock quickly bruised your g-spot easily. Moan after moan left your parted lips, whining out his name in whispers while begging for him to fuck you harder and deeper. Whether he were to listen or not mattered little to you, knowing that in the end, you would succumb to his desires. To tease you again or fuck you like a wild animal, you didn't care.
It was exactly how you wanted him.
"Touch yourself," he demands. To spite him from the constant teasing, you didn’t make a single move. You hadn't realized how exactly angry this made him.
"I said touch your fucking cunt," he snarls, your eyes widen at the harshness of his tone.
So, swallowing, you remove one of your hands from the wall and bring it downwards, pressing your fingers to your clit. Another moan left you from the oversensitive contact, rubbing light circles while clenching on his cock. The additional contact quickly rushed you towards another orgasm, his hands pushing against the skin of your lower abdomen to keep himself buried deep, feeling you clench on every inch of him.
The height difference between the both of you gave Ghost a huge advantage, allowing him to peer over you and perfectly see what he wanted to. Not to mention the size difference, making you feel so small against his burly, muscular body, leaving you more vulnerable than you've felt in your life.
He continues to fuck you at a brutal, punishing pace, leaving you clinging to him helplessly, hearing your pussy growing wetter with every thrust. He slowed himself momentarily, raising his right forearm over your neck. This raises your head, your chin resting on top of muscle pressing firmly over your throat.
His thrusts picked up at that brutal pace with no build up, your body racking with the movement as he pounded into you. You couldn't really formulate a sentence as you felt the fast impact of his hips slamming against yours, pulling out and impaling you back on his long, thick cock over and over again.
"Is this what you fucking wanted?" Ghost sneered, feeling you swallow thickly against his tensed arm.
You couldn't respond. The position gave him a bigger advantage, using his strength and weight to buck himself further into you, leaving you nowhere else to go except in front of him to take it.
"You dirty girl, mph-shit, can't think of anything else other than my cock, can you? Such a whore." His voice cold and mean, the sting of humiliation had you clenching around him harder. His savage thrusts ruining your mind to think of nothing else but him fucking you at an animalistic pace.
The strength and stamina of this man to ravage you so well, readjusting his grip on your hip to fuck into you deeper than before. Your mind was so blanked out you barely registered your feet almost not touching the ground, the disadvantage of your height compared to his leaving you bracing yourself on the wall for your only faint source of stability, the rest of it all lost in his hands. Ghost could support you with his strength alone if he wanted to, fucking you on his cock like his own personal toy.
You could already feel the hotness in your belly telling you that you were close. Hard and violent against his cock in a way no one else could bring you to.
Your nails scratched down on his tattooed arm as your back arched in response to the sounds of wet skin on skin. The delightful sting of your scratches had him cursing out and squeezing your throat more, increasing the power in each thrust. You couldn't move away even if you wanted to, the pleasure numbing almost every single nerve in your body.
The domination he had over you, the rough way he fucked you like he didn't care if you broke, his strength keeping you stuck in between him and the wall as he took out his frustrations on your cunt.
You vaguely heard him curse out under his breath, his own end approaching much faster than he wanted. Everything about you felt so good, tearing his mind apart even further.
You stared up into the eyeholes of Ghost’s mask, clutching his arm for dear life, feeling the muscles strain. His eyes glared down at yours, the intimidating sight giving him a furious, dangerous glare, like a beast over his little prey.
Ghost saw your glazed over eyes clouded with lust and adoration. Tears of pleasure falling from your flushed cheeks, mingling with the sweat dripping off from your brow.
Glancing down at where you two were connected, his cock ramming into you so fast and so roughly that all he could hear was your juices as his skin resounded against yours. All he could think and feel were your walls clamping down against him, warm and wet in a way that had him fighting against them to reach you entirely. Until they tightened around him even more as he felt you cum around him, your walls securely constricting his cock.
Your cries of his name increased in volume and number when the pleasure popped, digging your nails into his skin while riding out in your orgasm. Reinforcing his hold on your body, he continued fucking into you without stopping, his unforgiving pace preventing you without letting you come down from the high, or saving your poor pussy from beating it into overstimulation. He was aware that doing so was ruining your body, getting your mind absolutely cock drunk, but he didn't care. He loved how your body trembled for him, ruining you completely by none other than himself.
You were moaning louder than before, desperately clinging to him. Your euphoric expression was unmistakable by now, your pupils blown out wide, the intensity of the pleasure was too much. He'd been so rough, so dominant, your mind had completely given over to the pleasure and his control. You felt weightless as you let him claim every piece of you, your body growing so pliant for him. The buildup for your second orgasm so much shorter than prior, falling apart on his cock when you came again.
A loud, broken cry left you while tilting your head back, eyes fluttering closed while trying to catch your breath. Ghost didn’t stop there, leaning over your body more, clutching both your hips in hand, his breathing growing hoarse and louder while fucking you faster on his cock. This action left you breathless and whining, leaving you clinging to the wall helplessly.
The burning of your last orgasm quickly leading into another had you screaming on the wall towards the ceiling, mouth hanging open even as your voice started cutting off. Moments later, a low, heavy groan left his throat, his hot cum staining your inner thighs just as he pulled himself out.
For a few moments, you kept your forehead against the wall, the cool surface soothing the burn on your skin. Completely out of breath, you focused on the way his hands kept their firm, stinging grip still on your waist, nails digging into your tender flesh.
What a mess you made, his attention was occupied on your core, tilting his head to get a better look. Your messy cunt drenched his pants and boxers, matting the hairs of his happy trail to his skin. His cum stained your thighs beautifully, fat beads trickling down your thighs.
Without warning, he pulls you off the wall, forcing you to use your legs to keep up with his rushed pace. Your weak knees made contact with the edge of something firm, but soft. His hand behind your neck pushing you downward, making you brace your shaking hands forward to catch yourself, coming into contact with squishy couch cushions.
Reaching up, Ghost pulled off his mask, sighing with a bit of relief as the cool air hit his sweaty skin. Draping it over the couch’s armrest and unzipping his jacket, he moved over to the couch, running a hand through your slightly damp hair before gathering a firm fistful.
“I don’t give a damn hell if the ‘copter gets here," Simon whispered as he pinned your body down to the couch, positioning himself over you. "You're not leavin’ this room until I’ve fucked all of this stupidity out of you.”
You hated that you could hear the smugness dripping off his voice, but it doesn't matter the second he lowers his head down to your neck, lips pressing against your skin. Your hand reaches up and grasp at his hair while the other clutches the couch’s armrest in front of your head, a flurry of curses and pleasured sighs leaving your mouth when he abuses a tender spot. You felt his teeth make minor indents when he bit down, not enough to spark pain, but enough to make your oversensitive body quiver.
Reaching down with his left hand, He dragged the head of his hard cock over the glistening skin of your inner thighs, gathering a mixture of yours and his cum over the very tip. It pooled against your hole as he lined himself up again, bracing himself with the armrest before shoving himself back inside, hearing your pitiful whines muffled against the cushion.
He slid his tattooed arm over your neck again, clutching hold of your opposite shoulder, further securing your head back while bucking his hips even further, burying himself deeper inside than before. He felt your whines vibrating on his forearm, the other squeezing the flesh of your hip. He pulled you back onto his cock once, hearing your soaking wet, trembling pussy sucking him in so eagerly, your fingers digging into the cushions below you.
“You be a good girl and listen to what I tell you. You hear me?”
“Yes.” You exhaled the word through another moan.
“Good. Now don’t you ever,” He raised your head up with his forearm again, giving your neck a firm squeeze. “Ever, pull somethin’ like that again. You understand me??”
“Yes!”
Simon slowly rocked his hips forward, hearing you whine weakly in his hold. You felt so good, high off his supply, knowing you were making him feel just as good. You didn't want it to stop, almost begging your requests. You wanted to milk him, wanted to make him cum, wanted to have him claim you fully. The glistening sight of your swollen pussy swallowing him whole stirring his animalistic need further, ruining the chances of him being any form of gentle.
This was exactly what you had been fantasizing about.
For him to fuck you as if you were his.
He plunged into your wetness again and again, feeling your entire body and mind give themselves to him. His. Completely. Even more so than ever before. He knew personally that he could never deny you when you begged for more, your teary-eyed begging syrupy sweet like honey to the blue-eyed fly. You needed him, needed what he could give you. What you'd been deprived of for much longer than you deserved.
Your hips lift up and he pushes them back down, slightly increasing his pace. You’re greedy, wanting more and more from him even with your exhausted body screaming otherwise, fingernails scratching against the couch material.
He took a hold of your wrists, maneuvering them behind your back and use it as leverage, watching your ass bouncing with every thrust. Your sensitivity was obvious to any of his touches, the tight clenching on his cock confirmed that. Your starry eyes still dazed as his cock hit just the right place deep inside of you, Again, and again.
You didn't think you'd ever felt such blinding pleasure like this before. Everything was heightened to the max, the darkness of the room hiding the fact your vision had blurred. He was groaning and grunting with each thrust, each time closer and closer to his own fast approaching orgasm.
He leaned over you, towering over your body entirely, making you feel so small and dominated that you swore your eyes were trembling. There was a sense of incoherence to your voice when you grew close again, leaving you whining and dizzy, but it felt so incredible.
Your voice was tiny and weak, your throat dry and scratchy from moaning and screaming, barely able to form a proper sentence. Simon looked down at your vulnerable and completely submissive state: The state sent you into, the state that displayed your trust in him to be in such a defenseless space with him. It filled him with a sort of pride to know he had your complete submission, that he'd made you feel so good and safe as he'd fucked you into this transcendence. That right now, you trusted him to be your everything.
It was a lot to come again. The wave of it brutally overwhelming, especially in your headspace, nearly knocking you out. You were moaning, whimpering, and gasping, finding it a miracle you still managed to keep conscious under him. Even Simon felt weak as he came in you with a strained groan, his hips thrusting superficially as his cum was milked out of him, your walls pulsing around him to take every single drop of his entire load.
He let go of your wrists, watching them limply linger by your sides. He dropped his head to be just a few inches behind yours, letting the pleasure of cumming, specifically in you, move through him. His thrusts were still rough, fast and dominant as he fucked you into the couch, just like he knew you wanted. His hands remained bracketed on either side of you, his angry demeanor slowly cooling down. His enraged mindset that got him into this dominating position slowly resided, finally coming to a stop.
Wetness and cum had covered his entire cock, white coating the base of him and it smeared along your thighs. Slowly pulling himself out, despite not wanting to, gave him the faint image of his cum slowly dribbling out, making him emit a soft, enamored groan.
He wasn't sure how long you both had been going at it, but Simon had to physically stop himself from letting his body drop from exhaustion, not wanting to crush you.
He needed to take care of you, even in this state that would take even the nastiest of his fantasies into fruition. You survived a damn fall out of a helicopter, and here he was manhandling your body for his own anger induced stress relief. He'd never want to push you too much, even when he probably figured that you'd welcome a little pain in the experience. Yet, it was hard to do anything about the heavy pride on his shoulders to have you so high for him for so long, knowing it was only him that resorted you to this sex fueled state.
He wasn't sure how long your mind had been victim to it, He only hoped he hadn't gone too long without noticing it, hoping he hadn't hurt you without realizing he did.
“Don’t you ever do that to us, to the team, ever again. Do you understand, sweetheart?” He questioned in a low, soft tone. The softest you’ve heard this entire night.
Hearing that slip up in his words is what got your attention.
To us, being quickly retracted to the team.
Don’t ever do something like that to me again.
You slowly nodded as you pieced that sentence together in your head, hearing it loud and clear.
Leaning closer, Simon’s fingers slipped over your cheek, blooming with sweat and heat. His chest pressed against your back, making you wince and whine from the sensation.
“Easy.” He whispered into your ear, turning your head slightly to face him in the darkness.
His lips met yours in a power-hungry kiss, His tongue swiping over your bottom lip before he sank his teeth into the tender flesh, rough enough to make you wince without drawing a drop of blood. You hummed in his mouth, weakly reaching around to cup the back of his head so he couldn't pull away. His voice lowered more, growing raspier and deeper having that particular tone that he knew worked so well on you.
“Don’t you ever pull something like that again,” He panted, slightly resting his forehead against yours. You heard his throat bob, his heartbeat thumping against your shoulder. “Never again, you stupid woman.”
When he pulled away, he also finally left his position on top of you, leaving you hot, messy and bothered before you started growing cold again. Simon’s eyes lingered on the sight, a single voice in his head wanting to ravish you again, but he took a deep controlled breath, knowing when enough was enough.
His hands trailed along your sides, slipping off your shirt from your body. The action having you whining for different reasons, muscles aching in multiple areas of your body. Your bra was next, still damp from the rain. With your vision gone, you could only hear his footsteps walking from room to room, coming back to stand by the couch again.
A cloth was lightly pressed over your core, slowly and gently cleaning the mess that lingered between your thighs. You hissed from the contact, hearing a low ‘Shh’ fill the silence. The footsteps trailed away again, coming back towards you after a moment or two, leaving you listening to the rain.
Rough, warm cloth was draped over your back, encasing you in a warm cloud of soothing serenity. Warm bits of metal kissed your right shoulder, having you open your eyes to faintly make out a zipper attached to a pointed collar.
Simon’s jacket, perfumed with the fragrance of rainwater, gunpowder and his natural, spicy musk.
His arms slipped under your chest, guiding you to sit up from the couch. Your legs trembled as you maneuvered them, your abdomen trembling in a delightfully aching soreness.
Sitting down, the man guided you to lay against him, nestled in between his legs. The radiating warmth from his body went from lust induced threatening to soothing safety, warming your trembling bones. He kept you secure against him, your head resting against his shirt clad chest.
Your hand slightly trailed upwards, resting against his shoulder as you settled closer, slightly grunting from using your overexerted muscles. Simon guided you closer, securing his arms over your upper arms. His heartbeat lingered in your ears, a fast tempo that slowly drifted into steady solitude.
Closing your eyes, you could only listen and bask in the comfort, feeling a mixture of many different things rattling in your body and mind all at once.
Simon was quiet for a while, his mind working to process what had occurred earlier. He was angry at you. He was angry because he thought you died. He was angry because he thought it was his fault you died. He was angry because he believed you were gone in an instant, just like that.
He was angry over your selfless choice to leave, putting lives before your own. It wasn’t right, he didn’t take you the type for having a death wish. You didn’t have enough reason to, did you?
What kind of selfish person does that? No, no selfish person would ever do such a thing.
Only a selfless person would.
It was when he spoke up did those mental voices settle, his chest rumbling with the raspy tone you’ve grown to quietly adore listening to, his words making you lean into his touch.
“Don’t you ever do that to me again, sweetheart.”