I WANT YOU BAD・。♪ LN4
( lando norris x fem!reader )
IN WHICH. y/n (and a good joint) is lando's best distraction. (based on this ask)
WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI!, drug use (as per), unprotected p in v, riding, lordddd they are filty, dirty talk, squirting, high hotness pt 345345, lando is in love with the reader (as per pt. 2), guys it's just filth filth filth
NOTE. yoohoooo im soo back!!! first fic release after like 3 months haha.... but it's high!lando so, forgive me plz 😔🙏 anyways, i'm slowly getting back into the groove of writing (i only wrote a tad bit during my break smh) and im sorry if im a bit rusty. hopefully, its only up from here. enjoy my dearest readers, and feedback is always welcomed <3
SIDENOTE. my askbox is open! feel free to send in any thoughts, scenarios, requests etc for lando 🤍
there's a gentle, warm thrum that bubbles beneath lando's skin, like a premise of excitement, tendrils of smoke tearing and stitching sentience with sluggish countenance. doesn't see a thing beyond a feet before him, and can't feel anything (yet feels everything) sauf the familiar radiation of body heat from the girl pressed limply into him.
two things for the price of one, it barely gets better than this. he feels like a magic act, cartoonish smears of smoke coalescing, then dimming as he inhales and exhales and inhales again. every taut stress from the day slowly flakes off his muscles, and succeeding another drag of the joint, he lets a gentle sigh huff out of him.
"better now?"
y/n's voice sounds like soft lace in his ears, and she snuggles closer into his shoulder, hand splayed, and weighty, upon his chest. she feels completely dead, always getting too high too fast, but never lets the warnings rid her of the euphoria. lando knows that, and can't blame her either; there's something unequivocally beautiful about getting high and losing the ability to connect one thought to another.
he shifts- he thinks he does so- rolling the spliff between his fingers before curling his lips to push out the smoke that began to scratch striations into his throat.
"yeah," he drawls out, "never go wrong with a good spliff."
y/n just barely giggles, palm rubbing up and down lando's chest. he swears he's on fucking fire, neurones charging and buzzing and crackling at every heightened numbness, and all he can do is take another drag.
there's a blanket of silence, comfortable and observing, before lando feels her, wantonly, drag her hand over his crotch then squeezes; and, jesus fucking christ, the moan that's punched out of him is ungodly.
"y/n- fucking hell," he leaves it at that, slowly swivelling his head towards her. she's smiling, largely and so gorgeously that lando feels like he's levitating. why is she looking at him like that?
"wanna fuck you, lan'," she whispers, redundant because it's already so damningly filthy, "make you lose your shit."
lando is struck speechless and completely horny, blood swelling his cock to where it edges pain, but god, does it feel so fucking good that all he can do is moan and tighten his grip on y/n's thigh sprawled across his body.
she smirks, sitting upright and slides to straddle lando, hips grinding heavily into his and the pressure is glorious.
"you like that, huh?" she bites her lower lip and presses harder, lando's head lolling to the backrest of the armchair. he could cum right into his pants if his motive wasn't to do it deep into y/n's cunt instead.
"you know i do, baby," he takes another drag, doesn't know how he musters the effort to, "you riding me is a sight."
she giggles, "just staring at my tits as i'm doing so, you fucker."
lando shakes his head, "nah, i meant all of you, baby. so beautiful," then he's smiling and pulling her into a kiss that's just tongue and want, lando gripping a hand around her nape. he can die like this, he thinks, encompassed in the feeling of a throbbing dick and a sloppy, wet mouth— all of it.
y/n curls her fingers around the hem of his joggers, lifting her hips- their lips still attached- and sliding them down his thighs. cool air caresses his cock, pulsating, weeping and redder than she's ever seen it before, lando moaning at the relief as it slaps against his abdomen.
"oh lan' look at you," she whispers, wrapping her hand around his cock (the way he squirms at that is indescribable), "you need my pussy that bad?"
it's all faux concern, but it does the trick, lando nodding and on the verge of sobbing when she clenches her fist.
"come on- fuck me, y/n," he's whining and squirming, hands grabbing at her shorts to tug it off after wedging the joint between his lips. she stands up, lando's hands trailing away as she goes to slide them off, crumpling at her feet. and all lando thinks is mylovemylovemylove. his skin burns like he's being dipped in lava, yanking his shirt off and throwing it to the ground.
the girl wastes no time crawling back into his lap, hovering over his erect cock as she takes both hands, spreads her cheeks and sheaths him in.
"y/n- ohh fuckkk-"
the slide— it's so so good, lando's losing his mind, he wants to ask 'no prep?' but fuck, she's taking him so well that he just shuts off. he pants roughly, eyes squeezing shut as she whines and bottoms out, feeling deeper than he has ever been. he's tingling everywhere, a shaking a hand plucking his spliff out of his mouth and unto the couch, feeling y/n's tight, hot pussy grip him with every inch of its life. and just when he thinks it's nearly too much, she starts to move.
y/n grinds and bounces like a fucking pornstar, shirt and bra she had on a few minutes ago strewn somewhere in the room, tits jumping and nipples swollen. oh, it's such a view and as much as lando wants to keep watching, a spark of pleasure causes his eyes to hurl to the back of his head, body flushed deeply and mouth slackened as it leaks a thick moan.
"your cock, lan'- shit, i'm gonna cum so hard," y/n's voice sounds so ruined and lando is obsessed with it, eyes opening as he gives her a small smirk. hands run all over her body- her legs, her breasts- before settling on her ass and languidly dragging it up and down his cock. y/n's reaction is immediate, trembling and crying out a high pitched moan that almost has lando cumming right there.
"i want you to cum so hard, baby. this is your cock," he huffs, hips thrusting upwards and slapping against y/n's ass. the sounds make his mind go static; it's so filthily good, skin hitting skin.
y/n smashes her lips against lando's as she works her hips harder, feeling the cold metal of his chain bind to chest. they can barely kiss, panting into each other's mouth- then lando's cock stabs her g spot, hard, and she's screaming and cumming, liquid running between her thighs and cunt squeezing lando so damn tight, he's pushing her hips into his, yelping, and spurting cum, thick and warm, into y/n.
"fuck fuck fuck- oh god baby, just like that," lando speaks into her skin, "just like that."
he rolls his hips to ride out their highs, pleasure setting deep in his veins before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her towards him, leaning back.
"fuck, i love you," lando whispers, pressing kisses into her shoulder.
"even when i squirt all over you?"
lando smirks, placing a kiss on her lips, "especially when you squirt, baby.
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caught in the spider’s web (m.) 18+
Simon “Ghost Riley x Reader
“I’ll let you have sex with me.” It’s stated so plainly and so forwardly that it sounds less like a negotiation offer and more like a proclamation.
“Fucking hell.” Ghost shoots back, his tone barely containing the hint of bewilderment in his voice.
Warnings: smut, vaginal fingering, inappropriate relations with your superior, orgasm denial, degradation, teasing/taunting, Ghost being kinda mean, also slight!Soap x Reader (just some flirting tho)
Word Count: 5004
A/N: i’m down absolutely bad for this man, so down bad i cant stand up, also thinking of making a pt. 2 and maybe a Soap version tbh so lemme know if you’re interested in that!
Inspo taken from this tiktok audio by dxcrxpit
Gif is not mine
She’s got to blame someone for this; Graves will take the fall for now, until she finds the Shadow that shot her in the thigh and she’ll personally take the fall for being stupid and diving off the road onto a muddy cliff, tumbling the entire way down. Ungracefully, one may add. It’s unfortunate, truly, the turn of events that have now left her alone and in the pouring rain, leaking blood onto the pavement, but life is nothing if not one shitty plot twist after another.
The comms had been radio silent since she fell, with no one calling or checking in, no sign of Ghost or Soap anywhere, so she finds an empty alley, mind set on damage control. It’s nothing to reach behind her and grab the back of her balaclava and pull it over her head, but it’s the feeling of the wet fabric sliding and sticking to her face as she pulls it off that makes her grimace. “Gross,” she mutters lowly with her hands wrapped tightly around the fabric, wringing out her sweat and the rain. Her back braces on the stone wall behind her and she slides down slowly until she’s sitting on the cobblestone road. [Y/n] lets out a shaky exhale as she reaches her hands down and begins to undo her belt, sliding it off in a quick jerking motion and then proceeds to fold her balaclava into a makeshift bandage before laying it over the wound on the outside of her left thigh. The belt is then used to tighten the balaclava down, applying pressure to keep bleeding to a minimum while she finds her way out of this shit fest. It takes her a second of sitting and fidgeting with the tightness of the belt before she decides to slink her way back up the wall again to stand.
“Alright,” She breathes heavily, talking to no one but herself, “we can do this the easy way or the hard way.” She laughs lightly under her breath and her hand makes its way to where her sidearm had been just moments before her tumble, only to find it gone. “Fuck me,” she whines, head falling back onto the stone wall behind her dejectedly, “hard way it is then.”
[Y/n] makes quick work of pushing off the wall and beginning to limp slightly farther down the alleyway, clicking through the channels on her comms as she goes, until Ghost’s voice pierces through her ears causing her to stop.
“Soap- This is Ghost. How copy?” There’s a moment of silence that registers for a second too long and she feels her blood run cold when there’s no response. “Johnny…?” No response. “Johnny… How copy?”
“Solid.” Soap’s response comes quickly and she lets out a relieved exhale. [Y/n] is quick to glance around, trying to find the easiest way down and out and she thinks for a second too long before throwing caution to the wind and her legs move into a slight skip before picking up into a run into a shop across the road.
“You injured?”
“What’s the difference?”
“Life or death. Keep your blood in, you’ll need every drop.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
“Spider. How copy?” She hears him, vividly so, but her mind is too sidetracked to reply. To focused on finding a way out whilst sneaking up to the Shadow in front of her. She quickly grabs onto the knife that's strapped and sheathed to her lower back and imbeds it into the juncture of the Shadow’s neck, twisting and pulling harshly to retrieve it from his skin as she moves to lay the body to the ground silently.
“Kid,” His voice more demanding now, “how copy?”
“Alive.” She pants evenly through the receiver.
“Thought we lost you there, kid.”
“Never. I’m gonna live forever L.T, remember?” She laughs breathily.
Sometimes she catches Price staring at them with some far off solemn look in his eyes. A certain softness laced with ‘what if’ that you could only catch if you were genuinely looking for it and it startles her every time, making her feel a bit guilty that he cares so much for them. Guilty to know that if one of them died he’d be heartbroken.
“Stop staring at us like that.” She lowly speaks to him, her words taking on a teasing edge as she stares at the Captain.
“Like what?”
“Like we’re terminal cancer patients.”
“I do no-“
“I’m gonna live forever, Captain.” She interrupts so matter-of-factly before lifting her left hand and jamming her thumb in the direction of Ghost to her left, “And you can’t kill a Ghost.” Her thumb falls only for her index finger to point over at Soap who’s sitting on her right side, “And Soap,” she begins, “well Soap can’t die because we fuckin’ told him not to.”
“Copy that, Sergeant.” Price responds with a tilt at the edge of his mouth. Almost a smile, she notes.
Ghost peers down at her from where he’s seated next to her and she looks up at him with a smile present in her eyes and nods once in his direction in confirmation. Her black balaclava does nothing to hide her emotions, not when they’re always written right there in her eyes, and he vaguely wonders if she wears it because her face is more of an open book than her eyes appear to be. Yet it’s a thought he buries deep when she winks up at him, her eyes still dancing with humor and he’s turning away, not wanting to be drawn in by her gaze.
“Where are you?”
“There's a church. I’m heading to it. Let’s RV there.” Ghost declares. “You’ll need to improvise to survive.”
“Oh, joy.” comes Spider’s quick retort. She makes hasty work of digging through the dead Shadow’s pockets, taking his knives and his gun before taking a quick once-over glance over him. An idea toys in her mind for a second and she reaches forwards, unclipping the helmet on his head equipped with night vision and immediately puts it on her own and clipping it down, adjusting the strap to fit. The rifle she picked up is then slung over her chest and it rests heavily on her back on top of her armor and she begins her journey away, crouching low and moving to the next building.
“Welcome to guerilla warfare.”
Ghost and Soap continue talking, but [Y/n] had taken to tuning them out, too concentrated on taking down the Shadow’s in her path. One after another they each fell easily from the blades she kept stealing off of their associates corpses and her hands made quick work of ripping the ammo clips from their pockets and depositing them in her own on her vest. It was messy work and the realization that it was no longer sweat and rain wetting her face, but blood as well, did not go unnoticed by her. Her arm was quick to reach up every so often in an attempt to clear her face but it felt only as if it just smeared everything on her face, making a bigger mess.
“Gimme a sit-rep.” Ghost’s request digs her from her concentration, her decision making stopping momentarily and she goes to reply first but Soap beats her to it.
“Outside… Gated alley.”
“Kid, sit-rep?”
“Outside… Alleyway with a few dead Shadow’s.”
“Your handiwork?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Atta girl.” Ghost's quick reply is all she hears and [Y/n] feels her face heat from the praise.
“What can I say? I live to please.” And then she's back to radio silence, she wants nothing more than to get the upper hand here, but she still feels like she’s failing at it. Moving on the ground amongst the Shadow’s hoping to not stumble across one didn't feel right to her, didn’t feel smart. She was a sniper. She yearns for the high ground and distance and she’s been robbed of the one thing she feels like gives her the tactical advantage, so her brain is working overtime to fix it. It’s a mumbled ‘fuck-it’, that has her chancing it and she decides to take to the rooftops. It’s not without difficulty, climbing up to get to the roofs, but the real bitch comes when she has to make the jump from building to building. Each impact making her wince and gnaw at her lip to stop her from groaning at the pain in her leg. But she feels better from here, being able to survey the land and pick the Shadows off from above, thanks to a silencer she klepted off one of them.
“You’re gonna owe me for this.” Came Soap’s voice from the comms but Spider takes note that it echoes, if only slightly and her mind begins turning. No, not an echo. He’s nearby, close enough for her to hear with her ears and the comms piece.
“Why?”
“We’re fixing each other’s problems.”
“What’s my problem?”
“The mask… Take it off…”
“Show my face?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Negative.”
“Are you ugly?”
“Quite the opposite.” Smug bastard. He’s smirking, she just knows it.
“What about you, Spider?” Soap questions, shifting the conversation to include her.
“What makes you think you deserve to see me, Johnny?” She teases back in response, prompting Soap to huff back a simple, “Cold.” into the comms.
“Tell you what,” she propositions, “come find me and I’ll show you anything you want.”
“Both of you, get to the church. Now.”
“Yes, sir.” They both echoed.
It’s not hard for her eyes to catch Soap’s movement, pinning him in her gaze as he maneuvers the alley to her left. Her eyes leave his form as they glance forward to the Shadows ahead of him and she makes the decision to take them out for him. Opting that this was the way to gain a favor for him, having not forgotten how he constantly volunteers her for first watch whenever he can. His reaction is immediate, dropping behind cover and glancing back when he hears the heavy thud of the Shadows bodies hit the ground and he’s looking around to try and find where the shots had come from.
“Who the hell was that?” Soap’s distressed voice rings through the comms.
“It was your guardian angel.”
“Spider? Are you on the roof?”
“Affirmative.” Was Spider’s quick reply, “I’m coming down… Wait for me?”
“Yeah.”
“By the way,” her voice cracks vividly through the receiver, “you get first watch next time Soap. Consider it my payment for saving your life.”
“Spider, you’ve got first watch.” Soap shouts across the room to where [Y/n] is sitting, propped up against a wall with her eyes closed.
“What?” Her eyes fly open in surprise at his statement, “No, I had first watch last time. Switch with me.”
“No.” He tries to sound stern but laughter seeps through the word as he watches her throw her head back into the wall with a thunk and groan lowly at his lack of negotiation with her. After only a few seconds she sighs deeply before lifting her head from the wall and locking eyes with Ghost.
“Switch with me, Ghost.” She whines back exasperated.
“No.” It’s short and curt and she doesn’t let his vague hostility deter her. She wants second watch at least, because right now her eyes feel like someone put sand in them with how horribly tired they feel, with how heavy she is with want for sleep.
“I’ll let you have sex with me.” It’s stated so plainly and so forwardly that it sounds less like a negotiation offer and more like a proclamation.
“Fucking hell.” Ghost shoots back, his tone barely containing the hint of bewilderment in his voice, which is almost completely drowned out by Soap’s loud and shocked, “What!?” from across the room. But [Y/n] watches Ghost’s eyes closely, noting the change that happens within them. His normally cold eyes had taken on a flicker of heat and the burn of his gaze in that moment made her skin itch with want. It had been a joke, a joke with a bit of truth behind it, yet a joke nonetheless, but the fact that he almost seems to consider her offer makes the hair on the back of her stand up and her mouth parched. Price’s cough of disapproval rips through the air, but [Y/n] decides to dig herself in further.
“I’m kidding…” Her easy, nonchalant laughter bounces off the walls of the small room, “Unless… unless you actually will trade with me then maybe we can work something out?” Her voice trails off taking on a slightly higher tone as she shrugs her shoulders and gestures her hands between the two of them vaguely.
“No one is trading sexual favors for watch times.” Interrupts Price’s loud voice, hellbent on stomping out whatever the hell this is that’s going on right now.
“What?” She questions, mildly defensive with an all too innocent tone, “I don’t have anything else to really offer right now. Unless you want my knife,” She adds, shifting her gaze from Price’s scolding and directing the offer solely back to Ghost with a hopeful tone, “Then I’ll give you my knife for second watch.” Her eyebrows raise up beneath her mask and her head tilts slightly forward into Ghost’s direction as if to imply that the deal was getting better.
“No.” Price answers in Ghost’s stead, although the fire behind Ghost’s eyes still does not quell as he continues to stare at her motionless. [Y/n] releases an empty sigh, sliding her eyes closed and throwing her head back into the wall.
“Fuck!” She exclaims roughly in defeat, “Fine.” And Spider picks herself up off of the floor and her hands move to grab the sniper rifle propped against the wall next to where she’d just been sitting. “If any of you need me I’ll be on the roof.” She groans out as she makes her way to the stairs, only stopping to call over her shoulder, “Try not to need me.”
‘Try not to need me.’ It rattles around the empty air downstairs after she’s gone until it sticks in Ghost’s mind. ‘Try not to need me.’ Too late.
It’s well into over an hour of her watch shift when she feels the hair on the back of her neck standing up in defense, when she feels like she's not alone anymore. So she turns her head from where she had been laying prone with her rifle watching the streets below between two cinder block openings on the edge of the roof, just in time to catch sight of Ghost making his way over to where she was, sitting next to her with his back to the cinderblock wall.
“You should be sleeping.” Spider mumbled out to him.
“You should be paying attention.” He motions his head slightly to the roads behind him in direction. He catches the way her eyes roll and he can tell she makes a face beneath her balaclava by the way the skin on the bridge of her nose crinkles up slightly.
“Really useful advice L.T,” She mumbles out deadpanned, he can hear the exhaustion clear in her voice, “you ever thought about writing self help books?”
He only hums absentmindedly in response and an empty silence fills the air between them for only a few seconds before he adds in, “You look tired.”
“Be still my foolish heart,” Spider remarks sarcastically, releasing her hand on her gun and grabbing at the center of her chest, “Ghost, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you just invited me to bed.”
“Obviously you know better.”
Spider hums limpidly in response.
“Go get some sleep. I’ve got the rest of your watch.”
Her head shakes and a simple reply of “no”, is immediately followed by a yawn and she turns her head over to look into Ghost’s eyes again to scold him limply. “Stop talking about sleep, you're making me yawn.”
“You look like you’re gonna fall asleep on watch. A punishable offense if you do.”
“Maybe I wanna be punished,” Spider teases in a tired voice, “help keeps the brain awake.”
“Can’t punish you if you’re dead from falling asleep on watch.”
“Sounds like you have to be proactive, L.T. Punish me in advance.” The fire is back in his eyes and [Y/n] realizes how deep she’s dug herself in this time, and so she does the only thing she can do. Dig deeper. “Are you going to punish me, sir?”
“It’s not a punishment if you enjoy it.”
“A morale booster, then?” She offers instead, “Promoting healthy team relations and engaging in bonding activities with your soldiers can have a positive influence on their morale and mission performance.”
“You think wanting to fuck your superior is healthy?”
“No. I think of it as an investment in the betterment of the team, Lieutenant. I stay awake and they stay alive. A win in my books, if you ask me.”
“Yet I didn’t ask.”
“No sir, you didn’t.” [Y/n] takes her time sitting up onto her knees from the position where she lay and moves over easily to sit next to Ghost, back pressed into the cinderblock wall. She reaches over him, torso pressing dangerously into his thighs as she grabs her bag and begins to riffle through it with a leisurely pace, before drawing out her heartbeat sensor. Within a second she is sitting back upright, hands moving to grasp firmly around the device before powering it on and placing it where she had just been laying watching the streets. She peers back up at him, something burning deeply behind her gaze. The smile normally dancing around in her eyes now gone completely, replaced by something altogether darker, and her voice is serious when she tells him, “But all you have to do is say the word.”
“Fucking hell. You’re a minx, you know that.”
“One of my finer qualities, I believe.” She whispers out breathily. [Y/n] makes slow work of invading his space, leaning in until their faces were only inches apart and throwing her leg across his lap, straddling him. Yet she doesn’t lower herself down, opting instead to reach up and release the latches holding on her body armor effectively slipping it off and dropping it to the side.
“Now, what are you going to do if you get shot at?” His question is fair, but it’s simply meant to tease her so she takes the bait.
“Pray they’ve got bad aim.” She states to him as she sits herself down onto his lap.
“And if they don’t?” He presses further into the hypothetical and his hands move from his sides to rest on the outside of her thighs in a teasingly light grip.
“Then I hope you take mercy on me and save my life.”
“I’m not a merciful man.” He states matter-of-factly, hands working up from their spot on her thighs to start moving up to her belt, where they make slow work of undoing the buckle there. Her exhale is shaky at the motion and she breaks eye contact to glance down as his hands work at their agonizing pace. Taking his time as if he had nothing better to do than make her wait for him.
“Then I hope you’ll make my last moments worthwhile.”
“Hmm,” He ponders curiously, fingers popping the button of her pants open, “do you really deserve that?”
“I’m hoping to win your favor.” She mutters back hopefully as Ghost leisurely pulls down her zipper.
“How do you plan to do that?” Ghost questions her evenly, not a single emotion betraying his voice.
“My dazzling wit and charm?” She’s ready to burst, almost shaking with anticipation as she watches him remove his glove to trace the skin above the edge of her panties.
“Hmm… Try something else.” He remarks mockingly.
“I’m useful.” She declares in a whine, hands reaching forward to braces on his shoulders as her eyes close with frustration.
“How so?”
The air is silent for a second too long and when he feels as though she has no intention of answering back he captures the elastic band of her panties and lets it snap back harshly against her skin. “I asked you a question.”
“I’m… I’m good with a rifle.” She stutters out quickly, “One of the best.”
“Anything else?”
“I’m light on my feet, quick,” She’s trying to think, her mind reeling trying to remember notable attributes of herself but her brain short circuits and she begins tripping on her words the moment he slips his hand into her pants, cupping her heat through her panties. “I-i can get in and out of places without detection.”
“Keep going.” He presses her, hand moving to pull her panties to the side so his finger can run through her slit, collecting the wetness there.
“I’m good under pressure. Rational.”
“Is that right?” He seems to contemplate her statement, weighing the validity of it given the current circumstances as his finger begins to circle roughly on her clit. Her response is almost immediate, choking out a sobbed “yes” as her breath quickens.
“Go on then.” He continued plainly, his voice just as even and level as it always was, even as he slips his finger from her clit down to her entrance and plunges into her.
“I’m…” And she has to stop to take a stuttering, stabling breath before lifting her head up from where it watches his hand work into her so that she can lay her forehead on his and stare into his eyes. “I’m damn good at my job,” her left hand moves from his shoulder to fist into the mask at the back of his neck for support, “you know it's true.”
“My intelligence.” She yelps out before he can even tell her to say another thing.
“What about it?”
“I’m. Very. Fucking. Intelligent.” [Y/n] enunciates between panting moans and gritted teeth, “One… one reason Price wanted me in 141.” Her chest is heaving as she shakes her head lightly to clear her thoughts, a poor attempt to get a cohesive string put together. “He found me as a Private. Fuck me,” She whines, “I was exemplary. The goddamn best at everything. I won him over.”
“How’d you manage that? Your dazzling wit and charm?” Ghost teases her with her own words as his thumb moves to rub at her clit in time with his hands sliding in and out within her. [Y/n]’s eyes flutter for a second at the added pleasure and her hand clenched tighter on his neck, twisting the mask fabric in her grip as she leans forward further into him, pressing her hips down to seek his hands movement. Their noses are touching now, barely any space between their mouths as they share each other's breath.
“The spider spins her web to catch what she wants.” She mumbles out through a shaky keen. “I’m soo useful Lieutenant. M-more useful than you could ever know.” Her eyes looked pleadingly into his as her hips moved in time with his hand, “Please don't stop.”
“You get off on praising yourself, Sergeant?” His voice is so goddamn taunting and the slight shame of it burns her face. There’s no other sounds in the air outside except their back and forth, and the sound of his hand moving within her and the slick wet sound of it has her mind reeling with longing and want.
“You’re m-making me.” [Y/n] counters back, “I’m doing what I’m told.” Ghost makes a noise in acknowledgment to her statement before adding a second finger in, working faster as she begins to drip down his hand.
“Then we’ll add that to the list. The good girl can do as she’s told.” His words of praise are met with her clenching down tightly on his fingers.
He’s startled when he feels the cool, trembling grip of her hand grasping desperately into the bare skin of his wrist beneath his sleeve. There’s something exhilarating about the feeling of her skin on his in this desperate attempt to ground herself to him, with him, when they’re both so covered. And God it feels like fire, feels like every nerve in his body has just been sent into overdrive because all he feels is the cool skin of her hand wrapped firmly around his wrist as her nails dig in sharp and the wet heat of her cunt dripping down his hand.
“You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”
“Anything you wanted, Ghost.” She rasped back in confirmation, throwing her head back.
Ghost’s free hand shoots up from where it had been holding tightly to her thigh, capturing her chin in a bruising grasp and pulling her head down roughly until her forehead rests back on his. Holding her there until they’ve returned to sharing breath and air and there's almost no space between them, before continuing its journey downwards to her neck. Her eyesight falters then and her eyes slide shut when he squeezes at her neck just right and she preens at the motion.
“Look at me. Keep your eyes on me.” He demands and he squeezes her throat slightly harder at the command and her eyes slide open, teary and tired. “Atta girl.” And she can’t help but whimper lowly at the praise, panting heavily and tightening her hands grip on the wrist working between her legs. “See, that's not so hard, now is it?” He taunts lowly.
“No sir.” Her head is dizzy and her eyes are swimming with tears and pleasure each time he squeezes his hand around her throat, throwing her that much closer to the edge. [Y/n] can't help the choked, “oh God” she releases when his hands decided to speed up, the movement of her hips failing to keep up with his ministrations. The arch of her back makes quick work of closing the space between their bodies as she gets closer and closer, and her hand leaves his wrist in favor of bracing her forearm onto his shoulder for added support.
“You close?” Ghost asks, and had [Y/n] been in her right mind she would have noticed the glint of something devious slide though his gaze, but instead she just nods back with a tender “please” in response too focused on chasing her budding release. Ghost’s hand doesn’t relent in its hurried pace fucking into her, but he seems as if he’s waiting for something. Holding out on something until the last second and as she begins to spasm around his finger he seems to find exactly what he was looking for, exactly what he’s been waiting for.
His hand leaves from within her and off her neck in an instant and before she can register what's happened she hears her zipper being slid back up. It sends a panic straight through her when the thrumming of her body catches up to her brain and she realizes that she’s been left high and dry. He didn’t let her finish.
“Wh-what? Why?” [Y/n] wants to cry and for a second she’s very close to it. She wants to scream at the fizzling out of her high, shaking from denial she looks down just in time to catch Ghost’s hands thread her button back closed and slip her belt through the buckle tightening it. She lifts her eyes up for a second searching desperately for his and she sees a smug laughter swimming behind them before she draws her line of sight back to his hands. Hoping that if she stares at them long enough she can will them back to work, back to finishing her.
“You should go get some sleep.” He declares, adding a firm slap to her ass before holding onto it, and he sounds like he’s genuinely on the verge of laughter, like this was some kind of game he’s playing with her that he’s enjoying just a bit more than she is.
“But-but I didn’t…” And she stutters over her words, unable to form anything reasonable in her denial.
Her hand tries to reach down to where Ghost’s had just left, anticipation and her denied release eating at her bones telling her to finish the job, only to get intercepted before she can complete her goal. Ghost’s hand grips at her wrist tightly, bringing it up to rest in the air between their chests. At the same time his other hand rushes up to grasp harshly at her chin bringing her face up in front of his and he slowly peels his eyes away from her hand after a second to look into her own. The heat in them is different now, taking on a chilling burn that leaves her frozen on the spot beneath his gaze.
“What makes you think you deserve it? This is a punishment, remember? That is what you wanted. What you asked for.”
“Please… ” It’s a pathetic whine, one that he laughs at and her face burns dangerously beneath the fabric on her face.
“Go get some sleep.” Ghost orders again.
“I-i don’t think I can anymore.”
“You will. Consider it a test of your self control.” And when she makes no effort to move from his lap, he cocks his head to the side slightly, adding a taunting, “That’s an order, Sergeant.”
“Th-this isn't over.” [Y/n] states heatedly behind furrowed brows and heavy pants, “I’ll get you back for that.”
“Doubt that.” He husked evenly behind his mask.
Ghost finds her a few hours later when his watch had ended, next to Soap. Both of them sleeping on their backs with her head laid on his shoulder and his arm loosely wrapped around her neck with a light grip on her shoulder.
“He’s got the kid in a headlock.” Ghost remarks to Price.
“That can’t be comfortable.”
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