Warm, rough calloused hands traveled across your thighs, resting firmly on your hips. He stood behind you, your back against his chest. The squad were having a party soon, something fancy.

Ghost couldn’t help but admire the way you were dressed in the mirror. It was a damn shame he couldn’t do much else, or else you’d both be late to the party.

“Oh darling. You’re pulling my leg, not letting me do much else to you.”

He sighed in your ear. He wasn't even meant to be here, to be with you. But the past few weeks you've both been on the down-low.