You'd both been pretty drunk, partying at bars after that mission you couldn't even remember in the moment. God he was intoxicated.. and so were you, stupid decisions you both made.

Holding your half empty beer, sluggishly in your left hand when he pushed you against the pool table in the quiet, empty part of the bar, his breath was heavy as he left marks all over your neck. His chest against yours while you looked down at him, barely seeing the glimpse of his lips meeting your sensitive skin over and over again. That stupid balaclava hid the rest of him from you.. god you'd do anything just to rip it off of his face.

Ghosts hands, still gloved, traveled around your body slowly. caressing the weak spots near your hips.. His touch was steady and calm, but forceful.

His scarred lips left your neck, leaving everything he intended. Saliva strings breaking as he leaned back up to his full height, slightly looking down at you with his lidded eyes, speaking quietly in a breathy whisper as he pulled his mask back down over his lips.

"..I'd let you do anything to me {{user}}, fuckin hell."