Specter's Redemption |Ghost x Reader|

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As (Y/n) braced herself for the expected surge of pain, she was taken aback by a wholly unexpected sensation. It wasn't the sharp ache she had prepared for, but rather a warm, pulsing wave of pleasure that coursed through her. It was a surprising twist, a delightful deviation from what she had anticipated.

"Bloody fucking mary." The words left Simon's lips in a sharp exhale. Simon's senses were overwhelmed, a tidal wave of pleasure coursing through him. The feeling of (y/n)'s walls tightening around him, unable to take his length caused his body to respond uncontrollably, every nerve ending tingling with fervor.

Her breath caught in her throat, a soft gasp escaping her lips as the unexpected pleasure washed over her. It was as if a current of electricity was dancing along her skin, igniting every nerve ending in its wake.

Instinctively, (Y/n) squeezed her eyes shut, a reflexive response to the intimacy of the moment. Darkness enveloped her vision, shielding her from the intensity of the connection between her and Simon. It was as if she sought a brief respite, a moment of reprieve from the overwhelming emotions coursing through her.

"Look at me." In that commanding tone, Simon's voice sliced through the air, pulling (y/n) from the depths of her pleasure. As her eyelids swiftly parted, her eyes locked onto his with a piercing intensity. For the first time, her longing extended beyond the physical realm, encompassing a need for his guidance, dominance, and control. (Y/n) experienced an unprecedented desire, a yearning for Simon to take the lead.

"P-please." The plea in (Y/n)'s voice was raw and vulnerable

Simon's lips curled into a self-assured smirk as he watched the plea flicker in (Y/n)'s eyes. He reveled in the raw vulnerability she displayed, relishing in the power he held over her.

"Please what? Simon's touch was both possessive and tender, his fingers encircling (Y/n)'s neck with a confident grip. The contrast between the strength in his hands and the careful restraint in his touch sent a shiver down her spine.

"Simon, please."

"Good girl." Simon hummed. (Y/n)'s body responded instinctively, arching into the sensation, a silent plea for it to continue.

In that moment, all rational thought fled, replaced by the pure, unadulterated bliss that washed over him. On one hand, he could choose to be gentle, to cherish (Y/n)'s vulnerability and hold her in a tender embrace. On the other, he could unleash a raw, unbridled intensity, allowing their passion to surge and consume them both. The latter option held a certain allure—a vision of (Y/n) lost in the throes of ecstasy, completely surrendering to the sensations, unable to do anything but yield to the pleasure.

"Turn over," Simon's voice held a mixture of command and invitation, his eyes locked onto (Y/n)'s. It was a silent challenge, daring her to resist, yet filled with an unspoken promise of mutual pleasure.

(Y/n) met his gaze, her eyes reflecting a combination of trust and anticipation. Without a word, she acquiesced, shifting her body to comply with his directive.

As she turned over, a shiver of excitement coursed through her, the cool air on her skin contrasting with the lingering heat of their passion. (Y/n) stretched out, her back arching gracefully, a silent invitation for Simon to continue his ministrations.

Simon's hands moved with purpose, trailing over (Y/n)'s exposed back, his touch firm yet gentle, while tantalizing her with the tip of his cock. He mapped the contours of her spine, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

As Simon continued his exploration, (Y/n) let out a soft sigh, the pleasure mingling with a sense of contentment. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, entwined in a dance of intimacy and longing.

Simon's movements became more assertive, a surge of passion coursing through him. He threaded his fingers into (Y/n)'s hair, exerting a gentle yet commanding force. With a controlled thrust, he drew her closer, their bodies meeting in a fervent collision.

The sudden intensity elicited a sharp gasp from (Y/n), her voice dancing on the edge of pleasure and surprise. Simon's fingers intertwined in (Y/n)'s hair, exerting a gentle yet firm pressure as he pulled her back, their bodies momentarily separating. He wanted to see her, to lock eyes with her in this intimate moment, to witness the mingling of desire and vulnerability reflected in her gaze.

"Look at you," Simon's voice was a low, husky murmur, his breath brushing against (Y/n)'s ear, "you're doing such a good job."

(Y/n) struggled to contain the rising wave of pleasure that threatened to escape in the form of a moan. Her lips pressed together in a desperate bid for silence, her body trembling with the intensity of their connection. The walls of the church seemed to close in around them, echoing their shared secret with hallowed reverence.

"I'm going to fuck the shit out of you." Simon's growl reverberated through the empty church, a primal sound that echoed off the stone walls.

Simon's movements became more urgent, each thrust a raw desire coursing through him. He was going to make sure that (Y/n) felt every inch of him. The rhythm between them quickened, a symphony of shared pleasure and unspoken longing. His breaths came in shallow gasps, each exhale carrying a whisper of a moan, mingling with (Y/n)'s soft moans, creating a melody that echoed off the stone walls.

The radio in Simon's vest crackled to life, the sudden burst of static breaking the intimate silence that had enveloped them. It was as if the outside world was intruding upon their private moment, a reminder that they existed in a reality.

"Soap to Ghost. Do you copy?"

Simon's determination flared, ignited by the urgent voice on the radio. He refused to let anything disrupt this moment, this connection they shared. In a seamless motion, he snatched the radio from his vest and pressed the call button, his voice steady and authoritative as he responded.

"This is Ghost." His hand, firm and unyielding, covered (Y/n)'s mouth, effectively stifling the pleasure-induced moans that threatened to escape her lips.

"Caleb and I are injured. Where are you?" Soap was out of breath.

"Southeast corner of the city," Simon responded, his voice steady despite the urgency of the situation. He hadn't let go of the rhymic thrusting, he could feel (Y/n)'s moans on his hand, "stay low and stay quiet."

There was a brief pause on the other end, the sound of static filling the airwaves. Then, Soap's voice came through, determined and resolute. "We'll be there. Just hold tight."

Simon refocused his attention on (Y/n), casting the radio aside with a dismissive gesture. The removal of the obstruction symbolized a newfound freedom, allowing her voice to merge with the charged atmosphere that enveloped them.

And then, in an explosive climax, it all came crashing down. The intensity peaked, sending shockwaves of ecstasy through every fiber of his being. His body convulsed, muscles contracting and releasing in perfect synchrony with the waves of pleasure that wracked him. It was a moment of pure, unbridled release, a culmination of desire and sensation that left him breathless and utterly sated.

As the echoes of pleasure subsided, Simon lay there, spent and satiated, a languid warmth spreading through him. He was acutely aware of the afterglow, the profound sense of satisfaction that settled deep within him. It was a moment to savor, a memory to hold onto.