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Your Lieutenant who also refused to eat anything in the mess, or touch his mre's whilst on ops. Maybe he wasn't a fan of lifting his mask and eating in front of others? Regardless, you didnt press, all it meant was more apple crumble for you

Your Lieutenant who is always covered up on every single op, even on base, even during a heatwave! You understood not wanting to show skin but wasn't this too much? You were worried about him overheating, but he seemed fine.

Your Lieutenant who seems to be up all hours of the night, always in his office, always available for a debrief or a meeting, and never tired after an op, and seemed like he had endless stamina to train.

You, who finds him to be admirable, so dedicated to the cause and motivated all the time.

One night, you decided to head to his office to ask him to give you tips! Hes your Lieutenant afterall.

You, who walks in on Ghost, in his office, stripped down to briefs, on the floor, mask off, fangs out as he bit into and sucked on a pre prepared blood bag, panting and heaving as he made a mess.

"S-sergeant-" Ghost growled out, his eyes glowing a faint shade of red as he spotted you. God, you looked delicious...

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Shocking, considering the guy wears a Halloween decoration everyday, but he hates all the social interaction. Strangers knocking on his door, begging for sweets. He'd rather decorate for a day or two, enjoy his night alone, and call it a day.

So why is he going all-out to try and attract the most trick-or-treaters this year?

Because you're participating this year. You, the single parent across the street who he maybe-kinda wants to invite on a date but hasn't figured out how yet. Thus...decorating. anything to get a conversation started, right?

"Alright sweetie, go ahead and knock," ghost hears your voice across the door. He's been hovering since he spotted you and your daughter three houses down. Three knocks, and he opens the door–

"Trick or treat!!! Guess what I am!!" Your little one squeals, holding her bucket decorated like an acorn up to him.

"Sweetie, you need to wait for treats first–" you try to tell her, knowing she'll get tok disappointed and forget to get candy if the stranger can't guess.

Ghost takes one look at her and nods "proper weevil, innit. Good costume, kid."

"Yes!!! Yes I'm a weevil! You got it right!!" She yells, hopping in place in pure joy, cheeks no-doubt hurting from the force of her smile. Finally, she looks around at his house, then back up at you "can I go look at the big skeleton?"

"Yes, yes, go ahead." You smile at her, checking that no one's waiting. Thin about having little ones is you always beat the Halloween rush. Then, you smile at ghost "thank you. No one's been able to guess her costume, and she was about ready to quit."

"'S a good costume," ghost nods to himself, "she a fan of bugs?"

"Oh, it's all she talks about!" You laugh, that fond laugh all parents have for their children "she's in love with all things crawly."

"....oi've got beetles, if she wants to see 'em."

Which is how a bowl with a hastily scrawled "take one" is left on the porch, meanwhile your daughter is about ready to explode when ghost lets her hold Betty, his Hercules beetle.

"You wouldn't mind if she comes back, would you?" You whisper, both of you stood back while she stares in awe at his centipede enclosure "you're the first person able to keep up with her bug talk."

and then dennis's entire body jerks. he lets out a shriek-laugh and hugs his arms tight around his torso, shrinking in on himself. robby gets a bony knee straight to his face, clocking him in the nose.

the initial sharp pain is followed by a dull, throbbing and the scent of iron. a few drips of blood land on dennis's thigh. dennis gasps, sits up to cradle robby's face in his hands and look over the damage while robby tries to blink the shock away.

'oh my god oh my god. i am so sorry, robby,' dennis gasps out, trying to school the awkward smile on his face, 'i didn't—my thighs are sensitive, i guess.'

All that's left now is a thick blanket of scar tissue, gashes and cuts from when his wings were cut out and his back stitched back together. Finer raised lined from the subsequent beatings in places mean only for a mate. All of it often tight and irritated from neglect.

You know he doesn't have wings anymore, that his back is more of store of trauma than sensitivity with a lover.

Still, you had begged so sweetly for ghost to let you take care of him. Reassuring "you don't have to feel anything, si. I just...I worry about you."

After a warm meal and time spent cuddling in the nest, you roll simon onto his stomach and pull you the creams and ointments you bought months ago.

"Let me know if you want to stop." You remind, scooping some of the cream out with three fingers. You let it warm in your palm.

The first touch had ghost flinching, shoulders tucked to ears and a warning-chirp barely suppressed. Calm, you work in slow circles.

Always gentle, always deliberate. Nothing that can be misconstrued as anything similar to what he did to your simon.

"Doing good for me." Whispered into the dark, finally working up to his shoulders and pressing into the valley of his spine. The sudden, low croon almost makes you freeze. You hear that sound so rarely you almost don't recognize it.

Pleasure. His back may not be as sensitive as it was, but clearly having you touch it is doing something to ghost. His muscles contract in what would have been spreading wings, hips subtly rocking into the pillows and blankets.

"Good boy, simon, doing so well..." you know he's aware of your realization, but you don't want him to stop those sweet little chirps.

Moving from one cream to the next, you focus on treating the scar tissue as best you can, only pausing for a moment when his whole body seizes in an orgasm. Even cooing when he whines and flutters as the last ointment, overstimulated in just the right way.

Ghost can't stand to live without his wings, can't cope with everything roba took most days.

"a little deeper kid, curl up a little." Jack grunted out, biting his lip harshly as Dennis followed the instructions given.

"Are you sure Dr Abbott?" Dennis's voice was shy and unsure. Eyebrows furrowed in concentration "i'm pretty sure i'm doing it wrong, shouldn't the speculum be in already?"

when dennis first moves in, trinity properly goes grocery shopping for the first time sincr moving to pittsburgh so that she can make him feel welcome by feeding him. sensing that he won’t feel comfortable eating “her” food without her, she makes a plate for herself just so that he’s more likely to accept the offer

And of course he refuses to let you sleep in the same bed as him, he's married, got it? So you sleep on the couch after watching a movie, awfully endeared by your husband.

Jack is a veteran, so he does that military phonetic spelling whenever someone needs clarification. The classic alpha, bravo, charlie with absolute ease, which makes the fact that his partners are unable to do the same drives Jack absolutely insane.

Dennis can never "remember" the official words used, so he more of a whatever word comes to mind when he needs to spell. Like this man will look you in the eye and just say F as in fart, A as in artichoke, N as in neutella. Every time Jack overhears any of this, he will legit start re-teaching Dennis the actual alphabet. The issue is that Dennis is a little shit who likes messing with his partners, so he will never use the official military phonetic alphabet for as long as it riles Jack up.

Robby is absolutely unhinged and un-teachable, Jack has tried many times, but it's a lost cause. This man will use the longest, most unrelated word imaginable or use a word that has the letter as a silent letter. Robby will confidently start spelling like A as in asprin, E as in eyeball, I as in isopropyl alcohol, K as in knife. This unhinged way of spelling has both Jack and Dennis unable to breathe with laughter cause Robby doesn't even process what he has done.

Weehhh doughbabies🥺 here's a doodle inspired by [ghosts baby using his mask as a blankie]

"Hold on, lovie," Ghost's been working you open for what felt like hours, one arm braced next to your head and the other pumping three fingers into your hole.

Only after you had begun mewling and scratching at his bicep did he sit back and notch his tip against your entrance.

"Fuck, okay." Ghost inhales, eyes heavy with lust. The muscles under his skin coiled tight and ready to pounce. "Deep breath, biiiig stretch–"

Ghost times his thrust with his words, carefully drawn out. Like he's keeping himself in pace when all he wants to do is shove in and ravage you. The thick head of his cock nudging so deep you almost try to get away from it–

"No, you can handle it—" hot hands on your waist, pulling you down.

They squeeze tight for only a moment then fly up to grip the headboard instead. The wood creaks under his strength. Ghost shudders above you, cock twitching while he groans. "You can take it love, just be good, yeah? Mghh okay, nice and slow–"

As if ghost isn't just trying to keep himself in check. Remind himself that you're not some toy and he could easily break you. He just needs to take it slow, let you warm up, even if he wants nothing more than to hold you tight and fill you with cum.

Not like you make it easy, thrashing under him like a trapped animal. Mouth open in pleasure and hips working in small circles. Ghost wants to grind you between his teeth, wants to keep you all to himself, wants to have you like no one else can.

"Okay, it's okay, just hold on–" he grunts, head dipping down until his lips brush the thin skin of your neck. He presses a kiss to the junction instead of teeth.

Feels you come apart under him, clenching tight, legs shaking. He has to grind his teeth to stop from losing control, practically growling above you while his cock jerks and spills into the condom.

"Good job, lad." Ghost knocks his tip forehead against yours before making a swift retreat to grab a towel.