Ghost Solved The Problem, Everyone.

Ghost on his leave as a caretaker of random kids that saw him and said "mhm, yep, that scary, scarred man is trustworthy and won't kidnap me"

(Based off Armache's story lmao)

Johnny just wants to see Simon happy😭♥️

(He's desperate dw)

"I wanna be like you when i grow up" "You wanna be better than me, Johnny"

How does Ghost see himself compared to Soap?

Bird hybrid!Gaz, tending to a little thing with a broken wing. (Might have been his fault when trying to catch the darling thing) Feeding the agitated little thing and cooing gently, even as their feathers are ruffled and bristled up on the one good wing. The other splinted and resting gently on a pile of pillows and commandeered bedding from the other men. He's been wanting a little mate after all.

@goatgoesmbe @xxundeadfanboixx

simooooon

Is it a blessing or a curse to fall for a man who bears the weight of nameless sins, a killer haunted by his own guilt?

I mean, isn’t Soap the same as Ghost? They work in the same field and do mostly the same things. Just because Soap has a lighter step doesn’t mean he doesn’t have skeletons in his closet; he isn’t invulnerable to guilt, and maybe, just maybe, he finds comfort in knowing that both of them are damned to hell.

Munch! Simon.

It’s not something he exactly hides.

Whether it’s passing little comments, or simply the way he could spend hours devouring your cunt.

Simon has never hidden the fact that he enjoys eating you out, almost to a sadistic level.

He was gentle at first, learning your body.

But eventually, he simply couldn’t get enough.

Not when you look so pretty riding his tongue, not when you taste so good that he can’t even help but moan against your slick cunt with every pass of his tongue.

Which was what led you to the first bout of overstimulation.

He’d been down there for nearly 10 minutes already, gentle, loving. Exploring your cunt like he’d never tasted it before.

And when you came, he kept going.

“Mm, sweet girl. Gimme more.”

His tongue would find your clit, lightly flicking over it again and again earning that addicting choked sound out of you that had him gripping your thighs a little tighter.

And when your second orgasm came, he groaned into your cunt. Lapping it up like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted.

“Another…c’mon baby…let me give you more.”

He’d let his tongue trail down, sinking into your clenching hole only to bring it back up to your overstimulated clit. Moaning when you bucked from the sensation.

“You can take it…I know you can…so good for me.”

Over and over, his tongue would flick your clit, briefly sucking on it which only served to make his eyes roll back downright pathetically when you pull his hair a little too tight. His hand trailing down, two thick digits breaching your sensitive hole and curling into that sweet spot that had you squirting before you could even realise.

His head would pop up, eyes as dark as the damp mud outside…that shit eating smirk on his face as he curled his fingers into that spot over and over. Release gushing out of you until you physically couldn’t take it.

“Alright…alright sweet girl…s’okay…I got ya.”

——————————-

@whore4romance this was the one I meant to tag you in 😭

He like boob )-:

Here me out (mentions of pregnancy) From the moment Simon put a ring on your finger, you’ve been bent over every surface in the house. kitchen counter, dining table, even the washing machine mid-spin (i make myself laugh LOL) So it’s no surprise you ended up knocked up. Honestly, it was kind of the point. He wanted to see you like this. Full. Round. Swollen with his baby.

Now, months later, your back aches, your belly's heavy and your husband’s hands are right there, soothing, lifting, holding you together with a kind of reverence that makes your knees weak.

Because if it was his goal to get you like this… then it’s his job to take care of you now that you are.

-------

From the moment Simon put that ring on your finger, he made a quiet, devastating promise with his body as much as with his words.

You’d been bent over every surface in the house. The kitchen counter, hallway wall, the back of the couch, his lap in a dining chair, gasping his name into the crook of his neck, legs trembling while he kept you right there.

It was no surprise, really, that you ended up pregnant.

He'd wanted it. Wanted you round and full with it—his. Not out of ownership, but out of something deeper. Legacy. Healing. The need to build something softer than the war-torn world he came from.

Now, months later, your belly swelled gloriously with the proof of all that want. His want.

And tonight, it hurt.

Your back screamed from the weight, pressure clinging low and stubborn as you leaned over the kitchen counter in the dim glow of the fridge light. You were trying not to cry, not to wake him. But Simon always knew.

You heard his footsteps before you felt him, that quiet shuffle down the hall. And then—

“Back again?” came the rasp, sleep-heavy and warm behind you.

You nodded without turning. “It’s… too much tonight. I can’t get comfortable. I feel like she’s pulling my spine apart.”

Simon stepped closer, hands coasting over your hips, then around to your belly. He didn’t ask, just moved with quiet knowing, slipping his hands beneath the curve of your stomach and slowly lifting the weight off your aching back.

Your knees buckled slightly from the release, from how the ache dissolved under his touch. A long, broken sound fell from your lips, something between a sigh and a whimper and you melted into him completely.

“Oh my God,” you exhaled, your head tipping back to his shoulder. “Simon…”

Simon didn’t say anything at first, just held the weight of you both in his hands. His lips pressed to your temple, then down to your cheek.

“You carry her all day,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Let me carry you.”

Your heart ached in the best way as he held you there, hands beneath your belly, supporting all the strain, all the pain. You let yourself sag into his body, trusting him completely.

“You’re so good to me,” you whispered, arms curling back around his waist.

Simon was quiet for a beat, his voice soft as velvet when it came. “You gave me a home I didn’t know I wanted. You gave me this…” His hand splayed gently across the side of your belly, where your daughter shifted softly beneath the skin. “I’d do anything for you.”

The silence that followed was heavy with love. The kind that needed no words.

Eventually, he helped you back to bed, slow and careful, cradling your body like a sacred thing. And when you curled into his chest, belly pressed to his side, you swore you heard him whisper thank you into your hair.

Like he still couldn’t believe he got to have this. Got to have you.

Ghost: Johnny- Put it DOWN

Gaz: We can talk about this! You don't have to do this

Soap, holding a electric razor near his head: It's happening fellas. Time for a new look

Ghost: No no no-

Gaz: Be reasonable!

Price, walking in: What's going on?

Soap: I'm going to buzz my hair off

Price: Oh... do it

Soap: *turns the razor on*

Ghost & Gaz: NOOOOO-

Price: WAIT-