『𝐘𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐈』✰ GhostxReader

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴏᴜʀᴛᴇᴇɴ

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"I've been aching, i guess..?"

Yeuri
The name of a calm female Ghost, who can be aggressive when triggered.

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Everything felt like shit.

Perched upon a makeshift bed of hay within the confines of Alejandro's base, I welcomed the respite with open arms. Fatigue weighed heavily upon my limbs, a fucking relentless burden borne of countless battles and sleepless nights. Each breath I drew felt labored, every movement a testament to the toll exacted by the relentless grind of warfare.

In the quiet lull of the moment, my mind wrestled with a cacophony of thoughts and emotions, each one vying for dominance within the recesses of my consciousness. Questions swirled like tempestuous winds, their answers tantalizingly out of reach. Why had Graves chosen betrayal? what made him choose that path? The enigma of his betrayal gnawed at the edges of my sanity, a puzzle begging to be solved.

Graves isn't the only one occupying my mind; Ghost is right up there with him. I'm still grappling with questions, trying to make sense of how we ended up tangled in that mess together. What was it that sparked such intense tension between us, leading to...

That damn make-out session. It's been years since I've been with a man, and my body couldn't resist. After all the denial and frustration with my so called lover, my hormones were on overdrive during our relationship. I practically had to negotiate with my own uterus to keep it in check. But clearly, it had other ideas.

As Ghost's lips pressed against mine, all those pent-up desires surged to the surface. It was intoxicating, exhilarating, but also confusing. How did I let it get this far? Yet, in that moment, I couldn't bring myself to stop. The sensation of his hands on my skin, his breath mingling with mine—it was like a drug, temporarily easing the ache of loneliness and frustration.

For fucks sake, I swear it's like a never-ending loop in my brain. No matter how hard I try to shove it aside, it just keeps coming back, taunting me like a relentless itch I can't scratch. And with each passing thought, that damn arousal just intensifies, like my body's gearing up for a full-blown reproductive cycle. It's fucking frustrating as hell, my mind and body at war with each other, craving something I know damn well I shouldn't be thinking about.

So here I am, stuck in this agonizing limbo, my hand clamped firmly between my thighs in a desperate attempt to quell the rising tide of desire. My breath comes out in ragged gasps, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. I can feel the heat spreading through me, my pulse quickening with each passing second.