#ghost trick bartender

[pixellangel]

hello ghost trick fans i come bearing gifts

update: i made more

[maybe-a-gatto-or-a-catto]

Something that just continues surprising me is how much compassion Shu Takumi can write in characters

[plea-from-a-cat-named-sissel]

I'm curious, are there any common or otherwise headcanons about the names of characters we don't actually have the real names of? Like for example Pigeon-Head or the Rockstar Jailbird

[writersdrug]

bartender ghost who takes one of your tables who was argumentative and rude after you begged and bargained with him (he only caved when you said you’d ask soap)

Omg he'd totally think he could make you work for it too - you come up grumbling how table three is being so rude and they sent the food back twice, and they're treating you like you spat on your food or something.

"They'd be much nicer if you took them." You say, leaning over the bar.

"An' why's that?" He replies, pouring the contents of a shaker into a salt-rimmed glass.

"You look like you could set them straight."

"'N that's a good thing?"

"You're not afraid to be mean!"

"You jus' smacked the life out of four uni kids last week."

You huff, dropping your forehead against the bar. "You're mean..."

"Y' jus' said I was."

"Pretty please?" You beg, looking up at him. Simon has to steel his gaze to the shaker, pouring liquor and bitters and ingredients into it as he refuses to look at you. You got him last time with this trick - he'd caved like a tower of cards. But now, he's prepared. His eyes don't meet your pout (or your breasts pushing up against the bar), instead focusing on the drink before him.

"Not happenin." He says, shaking the drink with a strong arm. "This is your job, remember?"

You sigh and give up the act. "You can't even say anything to them?"

"Like wot?"

"Like- I dunno, just go as them 'is everythin' ok?' Like you do, you know, all scary."

He chuckles. "Ya got t' stand up for yourself, luv. Can't fight your battles."

You groan in defeat just as Soap pops out from the kitchen, placing two plates of food in front of you. "Got tae bring out yer own scran, Bonnie - 'm not yer food runner."

"Johnny!" You exclaim before he can disappear back into the kitchen. He gives you a quizzical look.

"Could you bring it to the table for me?"

Simon stops pouring the drinks, frozen in his spot.

"I jus' said nae!!"

"Please? They're being assholes about the food-"

"Oi, lower your voice." Simon barks, and you shoot him an apologetic wince.

"They're gonna complain about the food again if you don't talk to them yourself."

"Bullshit, I'm not doin' tha'."

Ghost smirked behind his mask. Taught Johnny well.

"I'll give you half of their tip."

Soap paused. "Nae, gimme the shot where ye slap me after."

"Deal!"

"No- no deal-" Simon growled, putting his drinks on the bar. He's not letting you drench Soap in water and slap him across the face, because he knows the lad will be more turned on than a lightswitch. "Fuckin' animals you two." He grabs the plates, and glares down at you. "'M not doin' this for you again."

"I won't ask again - promise." You giggle, and he wants to be mad at you, he wants to hate the sound... but he'd make a fool out of himself a thousand times, over and over, just like this, to see you looking up at him with that smile - you know you've got him wrapped around your finger, he fears, grumbling as he goes to have a chat with the bothersome table.

[peachesofteal]

Ghost/Soap/female reader 18+ mdni - dark content Running from Simon at the bar because he’s the scary man who wants to pick his teeth with your finger bones… only to find an angel waiting in the wings.

Your second martini is stronger than the first. 

You’re not sure how it’s even possible, considering the contents of a martini is mostly just alcohol, but it stings a little sharper on your first swallow, and you eye the skewer of olives skeptically. 

Oh well. 

More bang for your buck, you suppose. Better to get the job done faster, and cheaper, than the alternative. 

The bar is bustling, and you watch it all from the corner you’re tucked into. Coeds from across the city pack like tinned fish against one another, yelling and breathing in each other’s faces, loud laughter and boisterous conversations bouncing off the walls. Cigarette smoke cloys, orange-red ends flickering in the low light of the evening, blazing bright before they’re snuffed out and replaced. 

Your phone buzzes with a text, ten minutes late, and surprise is few and far between when you read that your activities for tonight have now evaporated, plans cancelled with a simple six-word sentence. 

Sorry, I can’t make it now. 

Asshole.

The vodka is stiff on your lips. Your tongue seeks the rim of your glass, flicking at a leftover drop of olive and alcohol, vermouth herbaceous in the back of your mouth. 

“Seat taken?” A gruff, rough dipped voice calls over your shoulder, gesturing to one of the only bar stools left in the building, and you answer without looking up.

“All yours.” 

“Thanks love.” The pet name straightens your spine, and you sneak a glance, eyeing the bulk settling at your side. “Usin’ that?” He points at the ashtray, thick finger alone in the air, and you shake your head. 

He meets your eyes head on as you turn to look at him, curiosity burning a hole in your brain, and good sense has your stomach tightening into a pit. 

A five-alarm fire rages, gusts of wind and pockets of brush fueling it’s spread, encouraging it to burn far and wide inside you until it consumes everything in its path. 

Danger, it shrieks. Run.

The man’s face is scarred. His nose is crooked. His eyes are dark. He’s a hell baptized image of Ares, a gladiator, a solider. A monster of men. 

And he stares at you like he knows you. 

It’s unnerving enough to set you adrift, free falling through the possibilities. 

It’s danger, but so much more. So much worse. He transcends lethality, strength and bloodlust shining in his expression, a dark beacon lighting the way home. Pine and cigarette smoke, drifting in the stale air. 

Just finish your drink and tab out. Leave. 

“Out by yourself tonight?” You blink at the croon in his voice, serrated tip of a knife dripping with honey, and answer automatically. 

“No.” It’s a lie of course, but you were raised with good self-preservation instincts. You’ve been a girl alone in a bar before, on a train, in an Uber. You know how to tilt the table, load the dice. Pretend you’re with someone, or on the phone, or have someone waiting for you. Lie and pretend. Make it believable. 

The flick of a lighter draws your attention, and he extends a fresh smoke towards you. An olive branch. A trick. 

“Want one?” You twist your face into the most disgusted mask manageable, and he chuckles. “Suit yourself. I’m Simon, by the way.” Lie. You give him something tugged from thin air, something you’re not going to remember in ten minutes time. 

The bartender comes by, and you’re both grateful for the reprieve, and a chance to close out. Until-

“An’ another one of those.” He points at the glass, your eyes going round, cold sweat breaking out across the back of your neck. 

“Oh. No, that’s-“ 

“C’mon. One won’t kill ya.” You should tell him it would, it might. Should get loud. More insistent. 

All the rebuttal evaporates when his shoulder shoves against yours, effectively pinning you between the bar top and the wall, heavy thigh bleeding heat against your exposed leg. Your too short dress is now a colossal mistake, and you curse your date for bailing, and yourself for believing he’d even show up in the first place. 

The man, Simon, makes a show of looking around, head on a swivel, roving over the crowd before turning back you with a glint. He knows. He knows you’re not here with anyone. “So, who’d you get all pretty for tonight then?” Smoke rolls from his lips, and the lump in the back of your throat is so thick, it tries to choke you. 

“My- my date.” 

“Where are they?” 

“Not here.” You grit each word, glaring. It only earns you another smile, eyes crinkling in the corner, a shark sniffing blood in the water. 

“Poor thing. An’ your dress is so nice, too. Little short, but… that’s alright. You didn’t know.” He takes a swig of his drink, neat bourbon, room temperature gasoline, and your mouth dries up. 

Didn’t know what? 

The subtle alarm bells ringing in the back of your head become nuclear sirens. 

The martini sweats on the bar top, leaving a wet ring around the base of the glass. Your stomach sours. “Thank you, for the drink, but-“ 

“Drink it.” You haven’t looked away from it, you think, know it hasn’t been tampered with… yet the idea of doing something this stranger, this man asks, terrifies you. 

“I uh…” 

“Don’t wanna be rude, do ya pet?” Fuck. You survey the room, looking for anyone who has noticed you, who has observed this interaction, who has realized what’s happening in this little dark corner. 

No one pays you a lick of attention. If they do, they spot the hulking mass of a man at your elbow and avert their eyes immediately. A few glance back in disbelief, like they recognize him somehow, or know him, before pointedly looking away.  

You’re all but invisible. 

Everything flows around you like water. You’re a rock beneath the surface, affecting a swell, an eddyline, and yet, no one knows. No one can see. 

You swallow half the drink in one gulp, hope and prayer on the wind. 

He’ll leave you alone, once you bore him. Once he realizes he won’t get anything out of you, he’ll move onto someone else. Someone more interesting. 

“How is it?” His leg presses harder on yours, a quadricep like cement halting you effectually, securing your immobility against him with a simple movement. 

He’ll pick you clean, and then pick his teeth with your bones. 

“Fine.”  

“Jus’ fine, eh?” His jaw flexes, and a split second of confusing emotion controls you, forcing new words from your mouth in a desperate attempt to appease. 

“It’s… good. It’s good.” Ice layers across the top of it, and you take another sip for the show, half smile painted on loosely. 

You have to get out of here. You have to go now. 

“If you’ll excuse me…” you flex, trying to stand, but he shakes his head. 

“Where you off to?” Your neck snaps back, indignant, and then you raise your voice over the din, too loud to be considered casual, fingers gripping the edge of your seat until your knuckles hurt. 

“I have to use the bathroom.” Eyes half lidded, he traces you from head to toe before nodding, turning back to his drink almost as if he’s uninterested, grim line of his mouth twisting into a smile and settling around the end of his cigarette. 

Once you’re in the hall, you take a left to the emergency exit, not a right, spilling out the back and into star studded night, gasping for air so cold it shocks your lungs. 

“Whoa, hey there.” An accent croons, and you turn in a panic, palms out. “Easy, easy bonnie. What’s got ye all upset?” Your entire body flags with relief, a rip cord pulled against your sense and judgement. The man, the Scottish man, seems friendly, seems kind, wide blue eyes alarmed and worried, brows creased gently as he helps keep you upright. 

“S-sorry. Sorry, I just… I just had… the weirdest-“ It doesn’t make sense, to try to explain, and nothing sounds right coming off your tongue, so you flail, and he tries to comfort you. 

“Shhh, ye’re alright now. Just breathe.” His palm is firm against your side, and you shake your head, trying to put words to the madness brewing at your back inside the bar. 

“There was a man, and he-“ The streetlamps flare, burning as bright as the sun, and you blink, grasping for your bearings. “He…” 

“He what, bonnie?” His voice is distorted, and the arm at your side now creeps around your back. “What’s wrong?” Your adrenaline surges, leaving your head throbbing, and nausea claws it way up the back of your throat. 

“N-nothing, I…” You’re fuzzy. Everything out of balance, and you gasp for air. 

The door behind you creaks open and slams closed, jolting you in the grip of the Scotsman. 

“It’s alright.” He coos. You’re weak limbed, malleable in his hold, and he turns your face into his neck, rubbing your back, his chest vibrating with every syllable. “Just close your eyes.” He smells good, woodsmoke and juniper, pine and cigarettes, something familiar enough to prickle, far away awareness digging at the soft sinew in the front of your brain. 

Pine and cigarettes. Pine… and cigarettes. 

It’s the last thing your rational mind pieces together before you’re lost to the darkness. 

[suppose-i-was-worm]

Iceberg Siren pt 1

**based on a prompt by @purple-goo-writes about Danny getting a job as a club singer for Penguin- I hope y'all like it!**

Oswald Cobblepot watched as his lounge’s newest acquisition crooned on stage, the crowd transfixed by the young man’s stunning voice. The Penguin was beginning to notice that the Iceberg’s profits went up by twenty percent every night this particular new hire was singing, and he had plans to promote the kid. Daniel Nightingale lived up to his name.

He’d stumbled into the young man in an alley, starving and beaten, and offered him a cleaning job. Daniel had taken him up on it, after his sharp blue eyes searched Oswald’s face like he could see his very soul. One of his bartenders had heard the young man singing while he worked a few weeks in, and soon enough, Daniel was the Iceberg’s crowning glory, even if he didn’t know it himself.

Oswald would make sure the young man knew how valuable he was to the Penguin and never left.

Danny gave a short bow to the crowd after his last song, and they all made noises of disappointment as he slipped off the stage through the door in the back. It had been several months since he’d started singing at the Iceberg, and he was thriving. Penguin had started paying him more for less work- Two nights a week he sang, enchanting the denizens of Gotham’s underworld.

It was probably cheating, that he was using some ghostly tricks picked up from Ember, but it’s not like the GIW existed in this universe to track him down.

“Siren! Boss wants you in the VIP lounge before you take off.”

Matt, his security detail, was waiting for him outside his dressing room.

“Sure! Walk me up?”

Danny winked at Matt, who just rolled his eyes.

“Happily married, Siren. Let’s go.”

With a laugh, Danny turned to head up the back steps to the VIP area, swinging his hips a little to make Matt sigh in exasperation.

He wasn’t truly interested in Matt- nor anyone else he’d met in the dimension, but as he began to be fed on a regular basis and filled out more, he found that people thought he was attractive, and he enjoyed the attention. It was far different from being reviled as a nerd or even as the local menace. The attention of people who wanted him felt easier to control even than the attention he received from the ghosts as their king.

The door to the VIP balcony swung open as he approached, and he was waved through. Plastering a sultry smile on his face, he slunk through the tables, winking at patrons as he made his way to his boss.

The Penguin was sitting in a comfortable chair on a raised dais, across the table from a man Danny hadn’t seen in the Iceberg before. The stranger was wearing a domino mask, and had a streak of white through otherwise black hair.

“Thank you for coming, Siren. Please, sit!”

An attendant melted out of the shadows with a third chair, placed beside the bossman. Danny smiled gratefully at the attendant and settled into the chair.

He wasn’t sure what Penguin wanted- sometimes he called Danny up just to show him off in his glittering dress that clung to his skin, and sometimes he called Danny up to read whether a person was trustworthy or not.

“Siren, Mr. Hood here was suggesting a possible business deal- why don’t you hear him out and tell me what you think?”

Ah, reading. Danny could do that.

“I don’t have time for nonsense, Cobblepot.”

The man’s growl raised goosebumps on Danny’s arms, and he had to take a moment to collect himself. Damned if that wasn’t sexy as hell.

“Oh, but Mister Hood, I’d love to hear about your business proposal! What my employer does with his money affects us too, you know- if the business proposal falls through….” Danny batted his eyelashes at the man. “I’m sure you know what happens to the bottom line.”

Red Hood sighed, and then began to explain himself.

Danny didn’t listen to the actual proposal more than he needed to make the appropriate noises. Instead he listened to the tone and cadence of the crime lord’s voice, the way his body moved as he spoke. Everything screamed sincerity, even the small, half-formed core pulsing in the man.

Wait. Hold up. Turn around, go back. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. A core? Here? In someone so clearly still living?

He would have to investigate, but later. His employer was beginning to look to him for a verdict.

“Wow! That sure does sound interesting,” simpering, Danny stood and wrapped an arm around Penguin’s shoulders. “I think you should hear him out, boss- he seems pretty up-and-up to me!”

Penguin smiled sharply up at him and then waved him away.

Danny could feel the stranger’s eyes on him as he left, swaying back to where Matt was waiting at the door.

~~

Look. Danny didn’t intend to get into this situation on his day off, but things just happened to him that didn’t happen to other people. Sam and Tucker would call it the “Fenton Luck”.

Danny didn’t think luck was involved at all.

If luck had been involved, the weird clown wouldn’t have attacked him with a crowbar. If luck had been involved, Danny wouldn’t have responded like he would with a ghost. If. Luck. Had. Been. Involved, the clown would not have flown back into a brick wall and then slumped like a marionette with it’s strings cut.

Stepping forward, Danny leaned down to check his victim’s pulse, but reeled back when he got a good look at the man’s face.

The Joker’s sightless eyes stared back up at him.

Ancients.

“Whatcha got there, sweet thing?”

Luck had nothing to do with anything in Danny’s life, ever. He was cursed somehow, that had to be it.

“A bagel?”

Harley Quinn hopped off the roof and came to investigate Danny’s dead body.

“Sure looks to me like an ex-boyfriend of mine, and not at all bagel shaped. You didn’t even leave a hole in him!”

“I’m…. Sorry?”

Harley grinned up at him, all teeth and a fierce light in her eyes.

“No need, sugar, you did a good thing. What I wonder is why the gas hasn’t triggered?”

Danny laughed nervously- he couldn’t help it, his fear response was laughter!

“Gas?”

“Mhmm! Had his body rigged, the bastard. Joker gas should have spread for six blocks or more when his vitals stopped.”

“Oh. I- you won’t tell the bats, will you?”

“My lips are sealed! I don’t owe Batsy anything!”

With a sigh, Danny shrugged.

“I’m a meta. Joker gas preys on fear, and so do I. The gas must have triggered, but I’m close enough that I filtered it pretty fast.”

Harley put her hands on her hips.

“Batsy doesn’t like metas much.”

“The Bat can suck it.”

She laughed and slung an arm over his shoulder.

“I like you, kid! Let me call my body disposal squad.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Ten minutes later, Poison Ivy and the Red Hood walked into the alley, looking around cautiously. Harley had talked Danny into braiding her hair, and was chatting amiably at Danny.

“-And that’s why Bill owes me a trip to Cabo. I don’t plan to collect, though, he’s just a henchman. Ives! Thanks for coming!”

Red Hood put his hands on his hips.

“I get why you called her, Harley, but why me?”

Harley tilted her head, pulling her hair out of Danny’s hands carelessly.

“You deserve to see him before he disappears, kid. The whole of Gotham deserves that, but we can’t risk it.”

“See who?”

She pointed at the body, and Red Hood went to inspect it. While he did so, Ivy walked up to Danny, peering down on him.

“I know you.”

“Hi, Dr. Isley.”

“I was right! You work for Oswald. Almost didn’t recognize you without your getup. I take it this was your doing?”

“Yes ma’am, although entirely on accident.”

She laughed, and Danny smiled too.

“One we’re all glad for. Thank you.”

There were stomping footsteps, and Red Hood was suddenly in front of them. Harley stood up from the box she’d been sitting on, shielding Danny with her body.

“You did this?”

Danny the angry pulsing of the Hood’s half-formed core. It felt similar to the way his own core had felt when he was forced away from Amity Park. He slid out from between Harley and Ivy and held out his hand.

Hood took it, whether on purpose or unconsciously.

“Hi. Danny Nightingale. I just avenged thousands by accident. Please don’t kill me.”

The pulsing turned from anger to relief, and the Red Hood laughed. It sounded odd through the modulator in the helmet, but Danny smiled along nonetheless.

[meowmeowriley]

@forestshadow-wolf @myriadblvck Thanks for letting be borrow your thoughts. Have this!

The boys are back in Las Almas to celebrate taking down Hassan. Soap can't help but compare drunk Ghost to a dog.

Alejandro ordered everyone their third margarita of the night. Gaz and Price groaned, Soap laughed. Several Vaqueros filtered away from the booth they were in, as Rudy threw his hands up. "Lightweights!" He called out to his men.

Ghost was in the middle of the booth, he'd wanted a view of the rest of the room, paranoid about what may be lurking, about who could sneak up on them. Soap had watched his paranoia ebb as the tequila sank in. He had his arms crossed, practically laying on the table with his head chin resting on them. His eyes were closed but Soap could see him smile whenever someone, usually soap himself, made a shitty joke. He'd not rolled his mask back down and Soap was not about to be the one to remind him.

Soap was sat on the edge, thankfully. If he was to drink another enormous margarita, he needed to empty his bladder. He got up, excusing himself to the loo quietly, and had taken two steps when he heard glasses clatter and the table screech across the floor.

He whipped around to see Ghost, on his feet, hands braced on the table that was now a solid half a meter from where it had been, and breathing heavily. His wide eyes darted around the room, then up and down John.

The others at the table were trying to calm him. "Easy, hermano." "Ghost? Breathe mate." "Phantasma..." "woah, Simon? You good son?" Ghost didn't even spare the other men a glance.

"Sorry Ghostie, didnae mean to spook ya." Soap tried to placate the man as well. A joke oughtta do the trick. "Just gotta take a leak. I'll be right back.

He expected things to go one of a couple different ways. Ghost could sit back down, be bashful after his outburst. He could pull the table back, make a joke. He could flip Soap the bird and harass him for ruining his nap.

What he did not expect was for Ghost to tilt his head like a confused mutt, and then plant his boot on the table to climb over.

"Mierda!" "Shit!" "Fucken hell!" "Ghost!" The men still at the table scrambled to steady the table, to keep it from flipping as the enormous man clambered up, over, and then back off the table. He came to a stop directly next to Soap, eyes hazy and drooping from the drink, looking for all the world like a puppy that was being left behind.

"Okay." Soap ran a hand down his own face. The bartender was surely not going to be happy about the abuse his table had just taken. "Ye need to pee too then. Coming?" Poor guy was still breathing heavily. Soap watched him clench his jaw tightly, his Adam's apple bounced as he swallowed. He nodded, just once. "Right." Soap turned, and could feel the oppressive shadow looming over him as they made their way to the bathroom at the back of the bar.

He wasn't exactly in the mood for a quick fuck, but he wouldn't say no to Ghost. A small part of him had wished their first little tryst would be something more intimate though, than a hasty nut in a dingy bathroom stall. But that's what he got for falling for the Ghost, he supposed. A cold, rough, efficient man. He'd take what he could get.

Soap walked up to the urinal, Ghost practically blanketing him, and had to push the other man back with a hand on his chest. "Ah really need to pee first, Ghost."

"First?" Ghost blinked down at him, head tilted to the side again. Of course the first thing he'd said in an hour was a confusing single word question.

"Why're ye here Ghost? D'ya need to go?" Maybe the man was too drunk. Couldn't even remember why he'd gotten up.

"Didn't wanna lose sight of ya." Ghost mumbled. He sounded dejected.

"Don't trust me not to piss on the floors, aye Ghost?" Soap ribbed, hoping to wipe the frown off the other man's face.

"Trust you." Ghost closed his eyes and leaned back on the wall behind himself. "Shouldn't, but..." he was quiet, clenched and unclenched his jaw a few times. His fists too. Finally he looked down at John, eyes far away, yet lazer focused. "They called me his dog. 'Shepherd's attack dog', I heard it... from everyone..." the low yellow lighting of the tiny light in the middle of the bathroom caught on the wetness of Ghost's eyes. "M'not a dog..." he whispered.

Coulda fooled Soap, puppy eyes turned up to eleven as they were. A hound left chained out in the rain. "Ghost-"

"Couldn't trust Shepherd. Not after... not after him..."

Soap had known Ghost for a long time. Several years now. Had worked with him a few times, always under the command of the General. Crass, no bullshit Ghost. Got the job done. Something changed in Las Almas.

"Wasn't loyal to Shepherd. Not his dog."

"No. You're more than that, Simon." Soap found himself reaching out. He held his hand near the other man's cheek.

Ghost took the offered hand with his own, nuzzling into it, closing his eyes once more. "Why're you different?" He asked. Soap wasn't sure what he meant. "Ghost... Ghost doesn't trust anyone. Isn't loyal. To anyone. But Simon... Simon wants to keep you safe. Make you happy." His voice cracked a bit on the last words as his whispers fell from his lips.

Talking about himself in the third person, as if he were two separate beings was maybe a red flag. But Soap's favorite color was red. And life was too short to ignore how the man was currently gently rubbing Soaps hand on his own jaw, stubble catching on every crease and divot.

"We could make each other happy." He whispered up to the other man. A promise hidden in his words. A question too.

He watched as Simon's face lit up. He smiled crookedly, missing lateral incisor and snaggled canine endearingly on display. If he'd had a tail, it would be slamming against the wall, if the radiance of his smile were any indicator. "I'll be good for you." Simon whispered into John's hand, before kissing it.

John held back the 'good dog' that threatened to escape him. No need to tease the drunk. He wasn't sure yet how he'd take it.

"I still need ta pee, Simon." He ignored the way Simon whined as he took his hand back, how close they were as John finally freed himself from his trousers. Pointedly kept his mind blank while his hands were on himself and Simon's arms found their way around his middle. How he burrowed his nose into John's hair with a contented sigh.

They made their way back to the table, Simon holding the hem of the back of John's shirt. It reminded him of his sisters golden retreaver, he'd seen it holding it's own leash during walks.

Gaz quirked an eyebrow. "That was, quick?"

"We didnae fuck, if that's what yer thinkin'." John rolled his eyes as he slid back into the booth. He expected everyone to shift over and allow Ghost back to the table, this time on the end so he wouldn't desecrate the table with his boots again, when he saw Price put his head in his hands and mumble something to the effect of 'Goddammit Ghost'.

The man in question was now climbing up the back of the booth that Soap was sat in, slotting himself behind him. Okay then. If Soap were honest, it was kinda nice. Ghost was very clearly marking his territory, as he once again wound his arms around John's middle. He placed his forehead against the back of Soaps, and let out a happy little hum.

"We just talked. An important little chat. That's all." He assured the group. No one dared address the man currently caressing Soaps bicep gently.

Soap couldn't help but think that 'MacTavish's Attack Dog' had a pretty nice ring to it.

[iloveoldermen-posts]

141 if they didn't enlist

Simon 'Ghost' Riley He totally gives me sailor vibes from 'Hook Line and Sinker.' [Amazing book btw]. He would own his own company and literally rakeeee in money.

'Captain' John Price A farmer. I can see this man with a piece of hay resting in his mouth, selling you organic fruits and veg at the farmers market every weekend.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick For some strange reason, I see this man being like a penguin caretaker. You know, the ones in zoos that feed them and perform shows underwater. [He could definitely use those tricks on me ;)]

Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish This man would be a high-class bartender, in some rich and fancy hotel. He would literally pull out all of the tricks if he sees a pretty thing wanting a drink. He could definitely tell what drink you order with one glace.

My asks are currently open so get the requests in, and check out my masterlist.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! -> ALL REBLOGS, LIKES AND COMMENTS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!!

[the-froschamethyst4]

Stuck In The Devils Arms

𖤐Pairing: Price x F! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: smut, language, drinking, P in V, kissing/making out, age gap, blind dating, eating out, manhandling, praising, ass smacking, teasing, brat taming (?), groping, nipple play, aftercare,

𖤐Summary: When an Angel and Devil accidentally meet how will they handle each other

————

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"Price is old," Soap says as him and all of Task Force sat in the mess hell.

"That was so fucking random," Gaz says.

"I mean, the man is single, no kids, lives alone, probably has a cat or something...I mean, have you guys ever hear him talk about his love life?"

"Probably for a good reason, Johnny." Ghost says.

"Does he even date?"

"If he did, we will never know," Graves says, sitting next to Soap.

"What are you poor bastards talking about?" Price asked, sitting between Ghost and Alex.

"Soap, is being nosy about your love life," Ghost said.

"My love life?" Price asked, sounding offended.

"Price, you are a single man, when's the last time you went on a date?" Soap asked him.

"I went on a date not too long ago."

"WITH WHO!?" Soap jumps up.

"Jesus, I'm not telling," Price says. "I don't want you finding her and asking her how I am in bed, you'll never know, Soap," Price smirks as everyone at the table laugh.

As Price was eating his attention was caught by a new recruit, she was young late 20's maybe 26-28? Somewhere around there. Price watched as her dark green shirt showing off her breasts and her pants sitting high on her hips.

The Military's pants were men sizes and didn't fit the ladies, so the only way to get them to fit was buckling them around their waists. She picked this trick up by her dormmates.

She carried a tray, her hair slicked back into a high ponytail. She walks pass the Task Force table sitting with a group of girls, she knows.

Price watches her not in a creepy way or anything, but she was cute, beautiful even.

"Price, I'm going to set you up with someone."

"Fuck that, I'll do it on my own."

"No, let me, I know someone," Soap smirks.

"I don't trust you," Price says.

"Yeah, you do, come on, one time, you will like her."

"Man-"

"Come on, Price, it's one time."

"FINE!"

"YES! I'll let her know, you said yes."

"Why the hell did I just get myself into?" Price asked, putting his hands on his face, dragging his fingers down his cheeks.

----------

That Night (8:00PM)

Price was wearing some dark blue jeans, a black t-shirt with a black and white flannel, this was a casual date, hell, they are meeting at a bar, nothing special.

He has a drink in his hands and was looking at the TV behind the bar watching the football game going on. The bar door opens and the person was greeted by the bartender.

Price turns his head and sees a girl, she had asked for a screwdriver and waited, she looked like she was looking for someone. Price didn't want to bother her just in case it was the wrong girl.

"Are you John Price?" She asked, he turns and looks at her, she was cute, a cute sun dress and her hair curled with light makeup.

"Yeah, I am...are you?"

"Y/n...I'm Soap's friend." She moved a bit closer to John and she put her hand out, he shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you," he says.

"Same."

"How you know, Soap?" Price asked her.

"Our parents know each other," she says with a smile. "He told me a lot about you," she was sweet, Price can tell. She was calm and her voice was like velvet, smooth and soft.

He wanted to hear her talk, he would listen to her forever!

"So, are you and Soap friends?" She asked.

"Kind of."

"What's kind of?"

"I mean, we talk and hang out...so I guess we are," he says. She just gives him a smile. His heart skipped a beat. Price hasn't felt like this about anyone in a long time, his first love cheated on him, and all he's been doing is sleeping around every now and then.

"How come you agreed to meet me, without knowing me first?" she asked. "Was it to get him off your back?" She giggles.

"A bit yeah."

"Yeah, Soap can be a bit much, he's done it to me a couple times," she says.

The night consist of them talking, they forgot about their drinks, and mainly started talking more then worried about their drinks. Y/n had gone to the bathroom and she trusted him with her drink alone.

Price kept the cup in his view and death stared anyone who dared get close to her drink. She came back, her hand touched his shoulders, letting him know she was back and not to freak out.

She sits back down and fixes her dress. "Thanks for watching my drink."

"Of course."

Price and Y/n talked and then he asked her. "Do you wanna...go back to my place?"

"If it's okay with you?" She asked, her fingers circled the rim of her glass.

"Of course, it is, come on," he gives the bartender his card paying for both his and Y/n's drinks.

------------

Price opens his front door letting Y/n go in first. She takes off her flats and Price takes off his shoes and flannel.

"You want anything to eat?"

"Oh no, it's okay, you don't need to cook anything," she says.

"It's okay, come on, what do you want?" He asked, leaning over his marble counter as Y/n sat at the stool.

"Umm~ spaghetti?"

"Anything for the pretty girl," he smirks, giving Y/n butterflies.

Price was getting everything ready and Y/n walks to him and she washes her hand and helps Price.

"Can I help?"

"Sure," he smirks. He watches her pour the sauce into a pot and putting some water in the glass bottle shaking it to get the last bit of it and pouring it into the pot again.

He watches her, she was gentle, he stir the pot of tomatoes sauce. He grabs a knife and cutting board and starts chopping up mushrooms, green peppers, onions, and a few other things.

Y/n sat at the counter watching him with a glass of red wine between her hands. She watched at how skillful he was with a knife, she rests her chin on her palm as she was amazed by him and started to make small talk.

"So how long have you been in the Military?" She asked him.

"Since my twenties," he says with a smile.

"Wow...do you think you'll ever retire? Settle down with a family maybe?"

"Are you asking me, to start a family with you, miss Y/n?" Her face was red and she stood up straight.

"Eh-no...that's n-not what I-I meant, I was just wondering if you'll ever retire?"

"I don't have a plan to do so," he tells her.

"I understand...so when you're on your last leg," she cracks a joke on him.

"Wow! I will not. When I get married, and I have kids, then I'll retire till then I'm single, currently on a date with my Sergeants friend, who keeps...staring at me with her beautiful eyes," he says.

"John Price," she turns her head to avoid eye contact.

"They're pretty," he says.

She just shakes her head to try and hide her embarrassment. "You're just saying that," she says.

"I mean, I'm not wrong...Soap didn't say anything about those eyes of yours," Price says, leaning on the counter.

"I think my eyes are just fine," she giggles at him.

"...Can I kiss you?" He asked, bluntly.

"Price!” She was shocked.

“We don’t have to,” he says.

“No, it’s okay…” she gets off the stool and comes around the counter.

Her hand glides over the countertop and she looks up at him, her hand resting on his stomach before standing on her tippy toes to kiss him.

The kiss was soft and gentle, Price pulls away first and then picks up Y/n placing her on the counter, he stood between her legs cupping her face and giving her another kiss.

Her hands rested on his chest as they both hear the water sizzling on the stove top. Price turns and lowers the heat on the stove.

"Should we eat first?" He asked.

"If the old man needs his food first to have enough stamina," she teased him.

"I not that old, I'm 40 years old," he says with a pout.

"Nothing to be ashamed of," she says, cupping his face and getting another kiss from him.

"Fuck it," he pulls the noodles off the stove along with the sauce and picked Y/n back up and took her to the bedroom, she giggles knowing she struck a nerve.

"What are you giggling at?" He asks her.

"Just how you got so mad over a simple comment," she says, Price can feel the smirk from her.

"Oh yeah," he smacks her ass earning a soft squeal from her and her legs bending up. He chuckles at her. "How cute, you got such a bratty attitude but when I manhandle you that all goes away."

"Oh no, sir, this is only a treat," she says, her hands on his back sitting up but then she flopped on the soft mattress.

She giggles when she bounces up a couple times, and Price watched as she was now on her back, elbows propping herself up, and her right knee bending exposing a bit of her panties.

He smirks, crawling up her and kissing her lips. She smiles and kisses his lips. His hands went up her body, holding her waist before his left hand unzipped her dress, she pulls the straps off her shoulders and Price pulls it down off her body.

She giggles when Price starts kissing her ankle and kissing all the way back up to her exposed chest. His mouth attached to her right nipple and his fingers played with her other.

She let's out a soft moan, her hands going into his hair and her back arches against his body. Price sits up and removes his shirt and starts messing with his belt.

Just undoing the belt before going back to kiss her lips. Price's rough, calloused hands held her waist before he starts moving them downward pulling her panties off and then he grabs her thighs and moves them over his shoulders.

It's been a while since someone has done anything like this to Y/n. Soap had known about Y/n never really wanting a relationship but didn't mind a hook-up every now and then, but this...what her and Price are doing is something she could live with.

Price licks his lips before gently kissing her wet folds. His tongue licked between her folds and then soon his tongue was pushing inside of her. She squeezed her thighs together as she felt good from what Price was doing to her.

She looks at Price and made eye contact with the older man. He smirks before sucking on her clit and shaking his tongue back and forth earning a breathy moan from her lips.

Price likes hearing her moans, he soon tasted some pre-cum coming from her lower half, he smirks before removing his tongue which earned him a annoyed groan from Y/n, he taps the side of her butt.

"Flip," he demands, he removes his pants as he stares at Y/n's ass as she flips over. He smirks before bending down and biting at her ass, she looks over her shoulder mouth opened letting out a soft and satisfied moan.

he moves a pillow under her lower half as he positions himself at her entrance and pushing inside of her. She puts her head back, her head hit against his broad shoulder. She looks in his eyes and lets out a few satisfied moans.

He was thrusting fast, he wasn't sloppy, kind of professional in a way, like he knew what he was doing. Y/n felt him hit against her spot a few times.

"You're doing so well," he praises. "You look so cute with your eyes really in the back of your head," he says.

"P-Price-" she was cut off by his lips on hers and she moans into the kiss.

"Those pretty eyes...rolling back...looking at me...they are so fucking intoxicating," he says with a smirk on his face before kissing her neck, he thrusts became harder, rougher even, the loud smacking of skin against each other filled the room.

His tip was throbbing wanting to cum inside of her, she squeezes around him when the feeling of wanting to cum filled her body, Price and her both moaned before they ended up coming together.

Price keeps going, he doesn't want this night to end just yet. he was going to keep going to prove that he isn't just some 'old man'. He smirks when seeing Y/n's face buried into the pillow, her moans muffled and her legs shaking.

price smirks knowing that her little comment is eating her. His hands rested on her waist guiding her to keep going faster, cause he wasn't done just yet.

As he was moving faster, Y/n's lovely moans being muffled and her eyes carrying some hot tears, not of pain but of pleasure. She loves this feeling probably more than Price.

"One more, love. I know you can cum one more fucking time," he demands.

He was sloppy with his thrusts again, and the sound of skin clapping, and sounds of something wet and sticky filled the room. She did what he asked her to do and that was to cum once more and she did.

Price smirks and pulls out of her, cum rushes from her lower half.

------------

Price was plating up the food, yes, he reheated it up. Y/n came downstairs in some shorts and a t-shirt that belonged to price.

"John, the shorts," she lets go of the shorts and they immediately drop to her ankles. "They don't fit," she says as Price laughs.

"Okay, you don't have to wear them," she steps out of them and temporarily places them on the back of his couch. She sits at the table as price gave her the plate and then goes back to get her a glass of water.

Y/n and Price ate and talked and by the end of it, she was being carried back upstairs to the bedroom to join Price. He places her on the side facing the closet door and he laid near the door.

"You get some rest okay?"

"Okay...good night."

"Night," he cups her face before holding her close to his chest.

------------

"Kids are confirmed," Soap says as he sits next to Price at the mess hall.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Price says.

"Y/n told me what you two did-"

"Is she pregnant?"

"Price, that's not how it works, it'll take time before that happens, and not only that, Y/n's on birth control, she wouldn't stop taking it for a stranger."

"She would for me," Price says, raising his eyebrows and sipping from his tea.

[tonixe]

a/n: Where is the Luke Riordan fanfic?? Like I was shocked cuz where is my sexy flame boy, like come on, you guys are ghosting me with this shit like please more Luke fanfic.

warning: drugs, smut, p in the v, penetrating, protection used, orgasm, hookup implied, protection used, party sex, alcohol mention, some cheating, maybe a rebound (?). *Luke and Cate did break up, so luke baby is alive 💓💗💞.

pairing: Luke Riordan x fem!reader

word counter: 2.2k

Parties weren't my thing, well I would to some of them if my friends asked or were going, but I would be probably just drinking something or on my phone scrolling on my Instagram feed. But, for right now I was dressing up for it, and one of my friends was going. She was pretty popular around campus, she was blonde pretty, with nice brown eyes. Her name was Harper.

I was at my vanity fixing my top, it was a Halloween party. Fixing the top, adjusting the strings, tightening it up. It was a little too tight, looking at the mirror. My bosom was almost spilling out, rubbing my sides. I was thinking of doing some costumes from Legally Blonde. You know when Elle gets tricked into wearing a costume to some party. I was already in the hot pink tights, just missing some bunny ears. I dust some light blush on my cheeks, eyeliner, and some gloss, and put my hair in a half down and half up.

I had some pink high heels in my closet to wear, checking the time it was about 7:50 pm, the party started at 8 and probably would last until the morning hours of 2 or 3 am. I applied some mascara onto my lashes, looking at the mirror and the compact mirror in my hand.

I put my bunny ears on my head, brushed the sides of my hair, and put some red lipstick and some gloss on top. Looking into the mirror, as I tried to pose to be more confident for the party. Harper and I were going to match in some type of way, she was going to be some Playboy costume, so we would have the same bunny aesthetic. Was it too much, I stood up and spun around in my mirror. I didn't want to be a Debbie Downer and change, so I was going to wear it. I walked into my closet, taking out a long pink fluffy jacket to match my outfit, and wearing my heels. Standing a bit taller, it was a lot. I felt some buzzing from my phone, opening it and looking through messages.

Harper: Y/N, I'm at my car right now, you almost done with your costume. - sent

Y/N: Yeah, I'm done, im going to be down in 2 minutes - sent

Harper: Alright - sent

...

I zipped up my jacket, got my dorm keys and my ID into my bag, put it on my shoulder as I opened the door, and walked out. A few people were outside, studying for a bit. I felt a little naked in this costume, crossing my fingers that it wasn't cold outside. I went down the stairs to the Polarity statue, where Harper was sitting in my car, waiting. "Harper!" I yelled, she got off of her phone, and exclaimed back, smiling. "Omg, you actually wore it" She looked at me, "Yeah, It's a little tight but It looks good right," I said

"Of course" She smiled, and to her promise, she was wearing a Playboy costume hers was tighter than mine and revealed more skin, but that was Harper's nature. "Come on, let's go!" She pulled me by my hands and we got into her car and drove off. I was hoping we could get into our dorms without getting into too much trouble. The drive wasn't long, about 20 minutes and we were there at the party. Some sororities house, some red solo cups on the grass, some people already outside making out and whatnot, "Come on, Y/N, don't just stand there" She exclaimed, taking my hand and we walked into the house.

I knew, almost like I predicted it. It smelt like liquor, perfume, sweat, and a bunch of other smells, some people in their costumes, some of the seven, some of Marvel or D.C. superheroes, and others from some horror movies. I turned to my side and Harper was already gone, 'Fuck' I whispered, before walking to some bar in the kitchen and sitting down on the stools. There was a bartender there serving some drinks as people danced away. "Can I get a piña colada?" I asked before the worker left to make the drink, I looked at the dance floor. Bodies rubbed on bodies, it was a scene I guess. Looked like everyone was enjoying themselves except me, but it was just the usual. Hearing the glass on the table, I took it and drank it whole, sitting myself as I listened to my thoughts.

I heard a glass colliding with the wooden counter of the bar and looked to the side to see someone familiar. It would be weird to stare, wouldn't it, but I wore it was someone you knew or saw before.

I tried to peep again but failed to see anything else on the person's face. This was awkward, very awkward. Before I heard the person talk up, "So, what are you doing here?" He asked, looking directly at me.

'Holy Shit' it was Luke, Luke Riordan like the guy who is like the number one. Golden Boy, Golden Boy himself is talking to me, breathing right next to me literally speaking to me. I had a mini fangirl session before I snapped out of it and answered him back, "A friend asked, and I agree, so that's why I'm here" I smiled at him. "Nice costume" my cheek heated up realizing he was looking at me, "I'm Ellie Woods, from legally blonde" I replied, "-And your ghostface, nice" I looked at him, "So..where's your mask?" I tilted my head, "On my belt, just in case" His smile made me have chills down my core.

He looked perfect even in the hot, sweaty environment we were in. I wanted to do something, but I couldn't even do anything. I felt my core getting hotter and my legs getting stickier.

"What's your name?" He asked, "Y/N and I already know you, your Luke right?" I hoped to not sound creepy, that I already knew him. "Yeah, how did you know that?"

"Your really well known, I guess I just picked up on you. You do know your are really easy on the eyes" I tried to flirt with him.

"Hey!" I looked at him, as the bartender came to him, as he ordered something, "Two shots of tequila" Before the bartender poured them out of the clear bottle. As the bartender slid them onto the counter to him, before he offered one to you. "Shots?" He asked, "Hell yeah" I took the shot and gulped it down, as the liquid burned down my throat to my chest, "Fuck that's strong" I heard him groaning out, it made me feel hot. But you knew that you couldn't do it at all, he had a girlfriend.

You weren't an asshole to break up someone's relationship for something petty like a sexual conquest. "Um, why did you really come here to talk to me.." I spoke out, biting my lip. "I thought you were cute" My heart started beating up faster, "Don't you have a girlfriend?" I bit my lip, "Oh, me and Cate..we broke up, she cheated on me with my best friend, pretty shitty isn't it?" He sipped more of the drink, he ordered in his glass cup. "Oh, gosh...I'm so sorry" That was a pretty shitty way to get broken up with, but at least I didn't have the guilt of being a home wrecker.

"I know," He said, rubbing his temples. The scene was awkward, I didn't want to pity him any further, but I was oddly turned on by this. But you didn't want to throw an opportunity away. It would be one in a chance.

"Do you want to feel better, I know a way" I placed his hand on his upper knee, tilting my head, suggestively. I guessed he got the message before I took his hand, and followed me into a random room. I really didn't know my way through the house but I was able to find a free room.

I pushed him onto the bed. I closed the door behind me, before getting on top of him, hooking my hands on his shoulder, and placing my lips on him. I felt his hands on my side, moving lower down to dangerous parts of me. Grinding down on his growing erection, Withdrawing away from the kiss. "Woah" I smiled at his reaction, "How was it" I cocked my head at him, rubbing down at him.

"That was fucking awesome" I pinched his cheek, "Your adorable" I smirk. He rubbed my ass down to my upper thighs. I felt his hands warming up under my tights.

I took my hands off of his shoulder, before losing off the corset that held me in its confined. I felt relief from taking it off, throwing my corset top somewhere else. His eyes darted to my chest, "Like them?" pressing them together, I felt myself getting wetter as he looked at me. Before I felt him flipping me over, feeling my back hitting the bed. My legs crossed each other as I held them up. I turned my head to the side, looking at him, opening my legs.

"Are you hard right now?" I teased, feeling some heart from his hands, melting away my tights. Before I felt him rip them off my legs. The flimsy fabric was ruined, "You ruined them" I faked my sad expression, "I'll replace them" he rubbed the upper parts of my thighs, taking my panties off of me. His hands stretch the lips of cunt, making me moan out. "S-stop, it's embarrassing" I turned my head away from the scene, "Fuck your soaked" He spread me apart, and his fingers slid into me, moaning on impact.

My legs trembling from the intrusion. His fingers curled into me, making me bend back, my hands gripping the sheets, his fingers thrusting into me in a rough motion, "FUCK!" I cried, my chest rising up and down. "Your sensitive, aren't you" He was staring at me, analyzing what I did, making me squeeze down on his finger, making him groan, "Shit, I'm sorry" Before he took his fingers, some clear slick. He licked his fingers clean, I didn't know if this was even real. Luke Riordan literally fingering me and licking my juices. I propped myself on my elbows before looking up at Luke taking off his pants.

His dick leaning onto his stomach, standing up. "Holy Shit" I muttered, it had a red tip and pre-cum leaking out of the tip, and it was bigger than you thought. I felt his hand on my ankle dragging me onto the edge of the bed, spreading my legs apart. "L-luke" I moaned, He had a condom in his hand, taking it out of the golden package, "W-wait, let me put it on" He placed it in my hand. I place it on my lips before taking the shaft and using my mouth to put the condom on.

I leaned back putting my legs up, as he put his hand on my thighs and slid himself into me, I moaned out. His dick abusing my cunt. Tightening against his cock. I heard him groan, The friction made me feel wetter. His hand on my waist, his dick stuffing me full, his hips snapping into me. His hands cupped my chest, playing with them. I felt his mouth on my peaks, making me bend. "Luke" I moaned.

I turned my head to the side, flickering my eyes away from him. My chest heaving, my body is feeling hot, and feeling sticker. I felt his hand roaming on my body, flicking my nipples, making me shiver in pleasure. His hands moved my body to the side, as he lifted my legs onto his shoulder, thrusting into me. Feeling him reaching a deep side of me, I flickered my eyes at him. I felt my abdomen feeling hot and bubbling, tightening against him before he groaned. "Luke..I'm close" I wailed, "Fuck, I'm close too" He rubbed my waist, making me mewl out.

I felt a wave crash down on my body, as I moaned out, gripping down on the sheets. His pace slowed down as he plunged into me, making me twitch. His pelvis collided with mine, as he thrust in, before releasing his load. Before he pulled out of me, before typing it up and throwing away the used condoms.

I was tired and sweaty. I put my hand over my eyes, trying to hide from him. I really didn't realize that it really did happen. Having sex with Luke actually did happen.

Leaning up on your elbows, "You okay" I turned my head at Luke, sitting on the side of the bed. He was still half naked, "Yeah.." I laid back down, "Could I hug you?" He asked, "Um, sure.." I felt the bed dip as he crawled towards me and his arms around my waist, leading to the side of my stomach. It was a little awkward but wholesome, I didn't know what to do but I rubbed his head. It lasted for a few minutes before I closed my eyes and slept off.

[elizabethwritesmen]

The Devil Wears Lace

chapter 6 : October 28, 2023

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x reader

summary: it’s halloween and your treat is a visit from ghost but it turns into more of a trick when a new bartender gets a little too friendly with him. you do what you’ve got to do to keep his eyes on you and end up with more than you bargained for.

warnings: smut, oral (m and f receiving), degradation and praise, dancing on a bar, public nudity, reader gets harassed again, simon gets angry again, slut shaming and a lot of shit talking about the new bartender goes on in this chapter, i think that’s all but let me know if i missed anything!

series masterlist

October 28, 2023

The bar was having a Halloween party.

I didn’t want to go, I’d been working all day at my new job and was exhausted, but Sabrina insisted.

What was my new job, you might ask? Well, the previous May I’d graduated with a Masters in criminology. I wanted to seek higher education but was still deciding what and where. In the meantime, I was interning at a law office nearby. It paid shockingly well, they were a small practice but extremely successful and valued their employees a lot so they showed it by giving them a lot of money.

I didn’t have time to go pick out a costume, so Sabrina assured me she would get me one, much to my dismay. Due to this, I went there straight after work, bringing my makeup and stuff with me so I could just get ready at the bar like I had many times before.

She met me at the door with a bag and shoved it in my hands, giggling all the while, making me frown. What had she cooked up?

I was mortified when I opened the bag and found combat boots, the smallest black dress I had ever seen, and someone’s fatigue shirt. Whose? I don’t know. I wondered the same thing.

“I am so not wearing this. Somewhere is bound to be open, I’ll go see-“

“NO! You know good and well this is the best way to get these dumbass military boys to buy you drinks.”

“Who says I want these dumbass military boys to buy me drinks?”

“You do, trust me, you need a night of flirting with a bunch of men more than anyone else I know. Now get your sexy ass in the back and get ready!”

I sighed, rolling my eyes so hard I thought they would get stuck that way, and did as she told me, heading to the small room in the back that we usually changed and touched up makeup in. It had bad lighting but we’d placed lamps in front of the mirrors, and it had a small set of lockers for anyone who worked there to put valuables in, but they didn’t actually lock so I didn’t understand the purpose of them.

Once I managed to get everything on, I had to admit I looked good. Turned out the dress was basically just a nearly sheer lace slip, but it blended in perfectly with my black bra and thong, which made it feel just a tad bit more modest than it actually was. The combat boots actually paired well with it and the fatigue shirt. I already had gold jewelry on, and I just kept it, thinking it made the look even a little better. All that was left was to touch up my makeup and curls.

Once I stepped out into the bar area, leaving my clothes behind trusting nothing would happen to them, I was bombarded by Sabrina, Dylan, and the new bartender who’d taken my place. She was cute, honestly, tall and skinny with big dimples on her cheeks. I figured she was doing well, and she seemed nice.

“You look so good!” They told me, fawning over me. I laughed, waving them off, sitting at the bar and waiting for it to get busy. It always did on the night of the Halloween party, without fail.

The music was loud, and all of it was either dark and sexy or Halloween themed. Decorations were hung up, less in depth than I usually did. Sabrina always hated decorating and I guess the new girl did, too.

“Hey,” Sabrina sat next to me, “It feels like it’s been forever!”

“It’s been like, three days,” I deadpanned, brows furrowed and she laughed.

“Yeah, but we used to spend damn near every day together. It’s so lame here without you.”

“But you have that new girl, right? She seems nice, maybe you could be friends.”

She rolled her eyes and I got comfier in my seat, knowing she was about to tell me all about the drama. “She’s awful.”

“I gathered that from the eye roll, now spill!”

“Alright, so when she first got here, she acted like she was just really eager to learn. Then ‘eager to learn’ turned into ‘eager to feel up my husband every chance she got.’ Fucking slut.”

I gasped, leaning in farther, “She felt up Dylan?”

“Yes!” she sounded exasperated, “He was showing her how to make a couple drinks and she just got right up on his side and started rubbing his arms and his back!”

“That bitch,” I furrowed my brows.

“I know! So he told me to take over showing her the ropes, and I have, but I wanna just fuckin’ fire the stupid cunt. She’s an idiot anyway and she can’t do anything right!”

“Well then why hasn’t he fired her yet?”

“Because his dad is wrapped around her finger and doesn’t want him to.”

“That bitch!” I huffed, “Well if she touches him again I’ll beat her ass for you. I don’t work here anymore, I can’t get in trouble.”

“I know you will. Just tell me first so I can film it, we’ll pop some popcorn and have a movie night.”

I raised my drink and she clinked it with her own, taking a sip with me. I eyed the new girl, in awe that she could seem so nice but be such a snake.

Around 9, the place was full, and I was dancing with a few friends that had shown up. We were just jumping around on the floor, a few guys around us dancing with us. It was fun, more fun than I’d had in a while.

I didn’t even notice they’d shown up until one of my friends started talking about the sexy guy in the mask. I furrowed my eyebrows, hope sparking in my chest as I looked around and saw him at the bar, the new girl in front of him, leaned over, giving him a front row seat to her tits. I nearly fumed, excusing myself and briskly making my way over.

I stood behind him for a second, trying to catch a hint of their conversation. It didn’t seem like he was giving her much from what I could tell, and she seemed to be getting more and more desperate for his attention by the second.

“Ghost,” I cleared my throat from behind him.

“I was wondering how long it’d take you to realize I was here.” He spoke without even turning around. The new girl made her way to the other side of the bar, giving him a moment alone.

“Maybe I was waiting for you to come to me.”

“You looked like you were having fun, didn’t want to disturb you.”

“I was,” I sighed, ��Are you gonna look at me? Or are you gonna keep staring at her tits?”

He chuckled, turning around fully to face me in his seat. My breath hitched, I didn’t expect him to do that.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he patronized me, “You wanted my attention now you got it.”

I took a few steps closer to him, “Just a little sad. See, you’re supposed to be looking at me.”

“Well, I’m looking at you now,” his voice was low and dark and his hands settled on my hips, pulling me a little closer, “What’re you wanting, huh? A compliment? Want me to tell you how good you look in this little piece of fabric you call a dress?” I nodded frantically, biting my lips and his eyes followed the motion, “You haven’t earned it.”

I gasped, eyes widening and he laughed again, this time fuller. His hands tightened on my hips as he lifted me into the stool beside him, gesturing new girl over and ordering me and Malibu Pineapple. I caught the dirty look she sent me, but I didn’t have a fuck to give. My brain was short circuiting over the way he just.. lifted me into the chair, and the way he remembered what I wanted to drink.

“Thank you,” I offered him a smile, taking a sip.

“Probably not the first free drink you’ve gotten tonight.”

“No, it’s not. But it’s my favorite free drink I’ve gotten tonight.”

“Suck up.”

“I would, if you’d just give me the chance,” I winked and the whites of his eyes showed a little more for a second as he widened them.

“You’re impossible.”

“Then why do you keep coming back for more?”

My hands were on his thighs then, both of us facing each other in our chairs, and I let my hands roam slightly but not to anywhere too scandalous.

“Guess what the fuck that bitch just did!” Sabrina’s voice broke the trance, and I looked at her expectantly, “She said you cockblocked her and started whining about you. Like I’m gonna choose her side over yours, be fuckin’ for real for a second!”

I raised my eyebrows, “Cockblocked, huh? Sounds like new girl wants you bad, Ghost.” He grunted in response, lifting his mask to take a sip of his whiskey. “Don’t moan and groan at me, you were the one undressing her with your eyes. Want me to get her number for you? Maybe you can take her home.”

Sabrina looked at a loss for words, and her eyebrows were raised in concern but she saw her way out of the situation. Smart choice.

“Sweetheart, stop.” His voice was a command. Deep and final. But I just couldn’t leave well enough alone.

“Oh, honey, I’m just getting started,” With that, I was up and across the bar, dancing with my friends again and trying to ignore him. A few guys came up to me, one wrapping his arm around me and trying to grind on me but I pushed him away a little with a laugh.

“You can buy me a drink, but you can’t touch,” I teased, but my face went dark and his hand landed a smack on my ass.

“If you didn’t wanna be touched, why’d you wear this?” he asked me, leaning his head down for a kiss that I dodged, elbowing him hard in his chest.

“My outfit isn’t a free pass to touch me, you stupid fuck.”

“At least I’m not a stupid slut,” he slapped my ass again, but this time I was ready for him. I grabbed his arm and twisted hard, wrenching it around behind him. Once I had him where I wanted him, I kicked the back of his knee and sent him to the floor, me standing over him and holding him hostage there.

“You want a broken arm? Because you’re sure asking for one.” My tone was angry, forceful, more assertive than I could ever remember it being.

“Fuck, get off of me,” he growled, trying to pull away but I twisted harder and he let out a gasp.

“Get the fuck out of the bar, and don’t come back until you can learn to keep your hands to yourself,” I growled at him, letting him go just to kick him in the back and send him all the way to the floor in a heap. He turned over and laid there, staring up at me.

“That’s not your choice to make,” he smirked, still cocky after what had just happened and I raised a brow.

“No, it’s mine, and I agree with her. Get out.” Dylan’s voice was like a lifeline as he grabbed the guy by the shirt and pushed him out of the doors. I breathed a sigh of relief when he was gone. “Good job, killer,” he high fived me and I grinned, “If you didn’t have that fancy new job I’d ask you to be the new security guard.”

I giggled as he walked away, trying to come down from the adrenaline of everything. The bustle around me made it hard, though, so I walked outside, holding myself tight to battle the cold. I heard the door open and shut behind me and imagined it was Sabrina, but I knew I was wrong when he walked towards me, his heavy footsteps giving him away.

“You alright?” he asked me, and I turned around slowly, nodding.

“I’m fine.”

“That was pretty impressive, what you did in there. Maybe you can take care of yourself.”

“I’ve told you that a million times but you had to see it to believe it, huh,” I chuckled but my words were venom, staring down at my feet.

“You gonna tell me why you’re acting like this?” he changed the subject.

I responded with a quick, “No.” He looked frustrated, speechless almost.

“You can just tell me you’re jealous. It’s obvious enough.”

“Jealous? Of what? Sally McSlutface laying her boobs out on the bar like a personal menu for you? Yeah, I’m green with envy, let me tell you,” my tone was biting, sarcasm laced in every word, pure hate dripping from me when I talked about her. Maybe she hadn’t done anything to deserve it. Maybe Ghost wasn’t mine and I had no claim to him. Maybe he could talk to whoever the hell he wanted and look at whatever the hell he wanted.

He breathed out a laugh, staring at the sky hopelessly, begging for the patience he needed to deal with me. “You are green.” His eyes snapped back down to me. “Whose shirt you got on, anyway? One of these soldiers that comes in here and hits on you? What’d you have to do for it?”

“I didn’t do anything for it, asshole, I don’t know whose it is.”

“Right, that makes sense,” his tone was patronizing again and it set me on fire, anger building inside of me.

“You’re gonna get mad about me wearing someone else’s fatigues when you’re in there eyeing up that dumb bitch like she’s fucking candy or something? You fucking asshole.”

“I’m not mad, baby, you’re the only one that’s mad,” but he sure sounded mad, and I didn’t believe a word that came out of his mouth. I didn’t even dwell on the word baby.

“I’m not mad!” I yelled, then tried to calm myself down, “You know what? Go fuck her. See how much I care. I have my own plans for the night.”

I attempted to walk past him, but he grabbed my arm, stopping me in my tracks. “Don’t do anything stupid just because you’re throwing a fit like a fucking brat.”

“Wanna see how much of a brat I am?” I couldn’t tell whether my words were foreboding or inviting. “Come back inside.”

I shook away from him and stormed into the bar, beelining it to Sabrina and Dylan.

“Remember two years ago when I danced on the bar for Halloween?”

“Yeah,” they both nodded.

“I’m doing it again. Put on the song.”

Their eyebrows were raised but they nodded, and Dylan went to the stereo system to get it going.

“You good?”

“I’m fine. I’m taking your advice and moving on. Or showing him what he’s missing. Whatever, I don’t give a fuck. Plus it’ll make that new girl mad.”

“Well, when you put it that way,” she grinned, “Get your fine ass up there and show them who’s boss!”

I grinned back as the familiar tune began. I made my way onto the bar and some of the guys there noticed and began to gather around. Right at that moment, Ghost walked back inside and the second his eyes found me, he looked homicidal.

I began swaying my hips to the beat, winking at him and increasing my movement with every lyric.

Heaven help me, the devil wears lace and she can’t be tamed.

If I were wealthy, spend every last dime just to hear her say my name.

I flipped my hair around, slipping the big shirt off and throwing it to Sabrina who was watching from behind the bar with a huge smile on her face. She handed me a bottle, one of the cheapest liquors they had as the chorus hit.

So light me in flames

Just as hot as you need

Let me see the good girl you wanted to be

I turned my back to the group of people gawking and cheering, bending over and reaching between my spread out legs to pour two shots worth of liquid into one of the guy’s mouths, which brought on more cheers.

My eyes caught his as I turned back around and felt myself up, hands sliding from my chest to my thighs, squeezing the fat there as my motions got sharper with every beat.

All of my praise, only from me

I can be the one who can set you free

He made his way over to the bar and I grinned, turning my back again and doing a small spin, hanging on to the rail at the top of the bar for support then shimmying down, surely flashing some people but I wasn’t concerned.

Fall from your grace

Turn up the heat

I feel I’m going down, hands gripping the sheets

I sat sideways on the bar, leaning back on my arms and arching tightly with my head thrown back, then turned over and raised my hips, arms stretched in front of me and ass on display and he snapped. He ripped his jacket off and threw it over me, hauling me off the bar and outside. The people there seemed dumbstruck, and I barely heard the end of the chorus before the door shut.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he growled, setting me down in front of him.

“Do I have to think about everything I do before I do it?”

He let out a sharp laugh, “You are the most danger prone girl I have ever known. Yes, you have to think about dumbass decisions before you make them.”

“All I did was dance on a bar,” I rolled my eyes, pulling his jacket tighter around me in the cold.

“Yeah, right, that’s all you did. Now everyone in there has seen your ass, you feel good about that?”

I set my jaw, letting it tick as I thought over my answer. “You’re talking to me like I’m some kind of whore. Maybe I just wanted your attention.”

“You have that already. Give me a real reason.”

“Maybe I just wanted the attention you gave her.”

“What attention? You’re so fucking delusional. I didn’t even look at her. I don’t give a fuck about her. I came here for you. My team came here for you, and they’re in there having the time of their lives because they got more of you than they bargained for. There’s only one girl that I want to drive me up the fucking wall, and it’s not her!” he was yelling, seething really, his tone harsh and cutting deep but then I let his words settle in along with the feeling of stupidity.

“Ghost, I-“

“Fuck, don’t call me that, my name is Simon,” his voice was still raised and it’s like he didn’t even realize what he’d said until it was out, and we were both taken harshly aback.

I let my mouth drop open a little, taking one step closer to him.

“Simon,” I tried it out and I liked the way it felt rolling off my tongue. I think he liked it too, judging by the way his face softened and his eyes darkened. “Forgive me,” I implored, getting further into his personal space. Crowding him out, really, until my perfume must’ve been suffocating him, thinly veiled by the jacket he’d thrown over me. He didn’t answer. “Forgive me,” I repeated, urgently this time. “Want me to get on my knees and beg? I will. Not for anyone else, but for you, I’ll do it.” He just kept staring at me as I rambled on, “I was jealous, Simon. So jealous, can’t help it with the way she was looking at you. Had me so angry-“

He cut me off, yanking his mask up to his nose and grabbing my throat, pulling me to him and kissing me. I yelped, shocked by the impact, but it only took me seconds to fall into a rhythm, melting where I stood and whimpering for more.

“Such a little slut, begging for me like this and I haven’t even touched you,” he groaned, pulling away to kiss down my neck. I let out a shaky moan, arching into him as his mouth drifted lower.

“Fuck, Simon, please,” I whined, and he laughed.

“I should’ve told you my name a long time ago,” he mused as he brought his mouth back to mine, claiming it as his own. He backed me slowly into the wall, huge hands circling under my thighs and lifting until my legs were wrapped around him and I was caged in his arms.

I got more desperate, squeezing him closer and breaking the kiss to groan when he pressed into me. He was big. Big was an understatement.

“Don’t think that’s gonna fit,” I breathed out and he laughed, nuzzling into me.

“Not tonight it’s not.”

“What?” I was panicking, the need for him growing in me with every passing second.

“Not gonna take you for the first time after a fight like that, baby,” he kissed me again, “Gonna make you wait for it.”

“I’ve been waiting-“

“Don’t whine,” he shut me up, “Makes me want you too bad. Now come on, let’s go back in.”

I pouted as he set me on my feet, all turned on with nowhere to let it out. I followed him as he dragged me inside, pulling his mask down at the same time.

We garnered some stares as we walked in, hand in hand, people obviously knowing exactly what was going on. There were some surprised looks, I wasn’t exactly known for being seen with a man or even settling for a man at all. People were used to be flitting about, flirting but never enough to care.

“Everything okay?” Soap asked as we approached their table, where Sabrina and Dylan were already standing, chatting away.

“We’re just fine,” Simon nodded, and I stayed quiet, blush on my cheeks still, and my eyes might as well have had hearts in them as I gazed at him.

“You’ve got a little… bruise….” Sabrina muttered, grazing her thumb over a spot on my neck and I gasped, pulling the jacket up higher. Everyone laughed at that, and it looked like even Simon smirked but I couldn’t quite tell under the mask.

He pulled out a chair for me and one for himself right beside me and I sat down. They kept cracking their little jokes and I kept not saying much, too lost in thought. I wanted him and I wanted him bad.

I placed my hand on his thigh, rubbing slightly and making my way further and further up. He slapped it away but I just put it back, continuing my ascent. “If I leave, will you follow me?” I whispered the question in his ear, and he just looked at me, but the way his eyes grazed over me let me know he was on the hook. I smirked, pulling my hand away and fleeing to the back room.

The new girl came in behind me, her face twisted in blatant annoyance.

“You can’t be back here,” she spat.

“Yet somehow, I am,” I giggled, waving her away, “Anything else?”

“I thought you were nice when I first met you earlier, but you’re really just a bitch, huh?” I cocked a brow as she let those words slip.

“Do you want to find out just how much of a bitch I am?” I questioned, and she didn’t back down. “Get out. Now. Go ride a dick in the bathroom or something like you’ve been trying to all night.”

“I think I will, in fact I think I’ll go for that man in the mask,” she smirked and before I could even laugh, he came in.

“Fuck off,” he grunted, “This seat’s taken.”

I snorted and she just gawked.

“She isn’t even supposed to be in here!” she huffed.

“Go tattle on her, then,” he barked, and she jumped, making her way out of the room. Once we were alone, he closed the door, turning the lock behind him. I smirked, walking towards him slowly, slipping the jacket further and further off with every step until it was on the floor.

“Just gonna leave my jacket on the ground like that?” he asked.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make up for it,” I winked, finally reaching him and placing my hands on his chest, balling them in the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“I don’t care, as long as I win,” I clicked my tongue, sinking slowly down to one knee, and then the other.

He let out a ragged breath as my hands slid down, tugging his belt until it was unbuckled and sliding out of the loops. Then I got his button and zipper undone, pulling down just enough to expose his boxers slightly.

“Aw, my poor Simon, you just wanted me to touch you, huh?” I cooed, pulling the boxers down enough to expose the tip. “I got you this turned on, baby?”

“Don’t forget your place,” he growled, but his actions were sweet as he brushed my hair back from my face lightly.

“I know my place,” I smiled, “On my knees with my mouth wrapped around you.”

He all but growled, hips bucking into my touch. When I raised a brow, he admitted, “Been a while.”

“For me, too,” I offered, hoping it would make him feel better, before pulling his boxers down further and exposing the entirety of him.

“Fuck,” I gasped, “You’re huge.”

“Gonna keep talking about it or put your mouth on it?”

I didn’t need any more encouragement, getting straight to work, starting with a stripe licked up the back and ending by sucking the tip into my mouth, twirling my tongue around it teasingly.

“Fuck, please,” he breathed out, hand pulling my hair tighter as I took more of him. I had to ease my way down to adjust my throat, but once I got as much as I could in, I started moving back and forth. He held me there until my eyes were teary and wet, my throat completely expanded, and I let him use me.

“Wanna see you,” he told me and I nodded as well as I could, humming around him and pulling my dress and bra down to expose myself, the air making my nipples hard as they’d ever been. I’m sure he had something to do with that, too. “So fucking - agh - perfect, so perfect for me, fuck please keep going,” he sounded broken, but not in the same way other men I’d been with did. He sounded needy, like he’d been waiting his whole life for that one moment and he never wanted it to end. I’d never felt that from anyone before, and I wanted more of it so I got greedier with him in my mouth, savoring the weight of him on my tongue.

“Fuck, y’gonna make me cum,” he gasped, squeezing my hair to pull me back a little as his hips stuttered. It was a sweet gesture, to keep from hurting me with his movements, and I moaned around him, which seemed to tumble him right over the edge. He groaned with one last thrust of his hips and pulled out just enough for me to open my mouth wide and stick out my tongue, letting him let go right there inside of it. He watched closely as he did so, enjoying every second, right to when I swallowed it all.

I grinned after he came down, pulling his boxers back up and doing his pants back up for him then standing and wiping my mouth gently.

“See you out there,” I winked as I began to walk past him, but he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back to him, picking me up and bringing me to the small bench in the corner. He laid me on it, pulling me to the edge and kneeling in front of me, eyes dark on me.

“What’re you doin’?” I asked, breath coming out quicker, heart racing.

“Showing you what your place is, since you’re a little confused,” his voice was rough as he hooked a finger in my panties, pulling them off of me swiftly, “It’s laid out with your legs spread wipe open just for me.”

I gasped, squirming under his gaze as he brought a finger down to swipe through my folds.

“Please,” I whimpered, and he chuckled.

“That’s it, what a good little slut, begging me to touch you. What do you want from me baby? Want my fingers in this little cunt?”

I nodded frantically, eyes wide and pleading, and he obliged, ripping his gloves off and slipping one finger in. I let out a broken moan as he went in and out, thinking it couldn’t possible get better but then it did as he slipped in two, fucking me with his digits, curling them around that spongy spot inside of me.

“Simon, I - fuck - please -!” he went a little faster, and I tried my best not to scream but it was so hard.

Then, all at once, he went away.

“What are you-“

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, calm down,” he shushed me and I relaxed, lying back and watching as he grabbed his jacket. He walked over to me, placing one of the sleeves over my eyes and tying it behind me, making a blindfold of sorts.

“What’s this for?” I asked, and I heard a bit of movement and something being set down before he grabbed my hands and lifted them to his face, laying them down there on bare skin.

I gasped, feeling around, greedy for more then I found it in his hair. I tugged lightly, loving how it felt in my fingers, and he groaned. Before I could even process his bare face, he’d leaned down and kissed me again, his fingers going back to where I needed him most and pushing back in. I rutted against him desperately as his tongue explored my mouth, then moved downwards. To my neck, then my chest, spending a little extra time there teasing me, then down my belly and to where his fingers were.

He circled his tongue around my clit and electricity shot through me as I let out a shriek, my legs falling over his shoulders and pulling him closer as my hand fisted in his hair. He lapped at me like a man starved, working harder for me than anyone ever had, coaxing me farther and farther open until I didn’t feel like I could even inhale. He noticed, pulling away just enough to rasp, “Breathe, baby. I’ve got you, just relax and let me make you cum.”

I moaned again, back arching as I began feeling that peak inside of me getting closer and closer. He could feel it too, so he sped up his movements and added another finger, tipping me over the edge and fucking me through it as I wailed. What felt like forever later, I collapsed in a heap, gasping for breath.

A minute later, he took the jacket off of my face and I pouted when I saw his mask was back on, as well as his gloves. I started to get up but he stopped me with a hand on my chest, laying me back down.

“Hold on,” he ordered and I did, watching him look around for a second before coming back with a little towel he’d found. He carefully cleaned me up, and I watched him in a daze, those dangerous feelings bubbling up in my chest once more. I was a goner for him, and suddenly the thought that he had to leave soon hit me and my eyes were getting hot.

“I’m gonna keep these,” he smirked as he pocketed my underwear, and I nodded, staring at the ceiling. He got quiet, taking note of my attitude change and furrowing his brows. “What’s wrong?” I didn’t answer and panic set in. “Was that not okay? Did you not want that? Fuck - I’m sorry, I-“

“No,” I shook my head, “I wanted it. It was good. Perfect, even. I just… I feel like I can’t tell you what’s wrong.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ll laugh at me.”

“Promise I won’t.”

“You have to leave. I just feel…”

“Used?”

“No,” I placed my hand on his to quiet those thoughts in his head, sitting up carefully, pulling my dress back to somewhat modesty. “Sad.”

“Oh,” he said, seeming surprised. “You know, sweetheart, I’m not the kind of man you wanna care about.”

“It’s a little too late for that.”

“I’ll be back. I promise I will.”

“And if you can’t keep that promise?”

“I can.”

The tears fell then and he sat beside me, pulling me into his arms as I cried. “Shh,” he whispered, “It’s okay. I’ll be back. Just let it out.” His hand was rubbing circles on my back, easing some of the pain. I couldn’t believe how vulnerable I was being, but I felt completely wrecked and he hadn’t even fucked me, and now he had to leave. Of course I was vulnerable,

I stopped crying, pulling slightly away from him and wiping my face as best I could.

“We should go back out there. Try to have a good night.”

“Baby, I’ve already had a good night,” he chuckled and I let out a little giggle too.

“Okay, then let’s try to keep the good night going. Come on. There’s no telling what they’ve said about us by now.”

“Probably nothing that wasn’t true.”

“Yeah…” I mumbled, “We haven’t been too subtle, huh?”

“I think when you showed your ass to everybody in the bar, subtlety went out the window.”

“Probably,” I laughed, standing up and bringing him with me. He slipped the jacket back over my shoulders as we walked out.

“You don’t have underwear on, I’m doing damage control.”

Just as I expected, everyone picked on us, and the night was full of endless innuendos. I just stayed quiet and shy, gazing at Simon, and it almost seemed like he was gazing back. He kept either his arm around me or his hand on my leg for the whole rest of the night, seeming like he didn’t want to let me go.

Unfortunately, the time came that he had to, and we all parted ways and he walked me to my car, still holding me to his side.

“You gonna be ok?” he asked, hand cupping my cheek as I stared at him with those same heart eyes I had for him before.

“I think so,” I grinned and his eyes fell to my lips.

“I meant what I said,” he told me, “I’ll be back for you.”

“I’ll be waiting,” I hummed, pulling him a little closer until I was trapped between him and my car, but there was nowhere else I’d rather be.

He lifted his mask to his nose again and I smiled, knowing what was coming. His mouth fell down to mine, slower than before but just as intense. It was short and sweet, but memorable, and I chased him as he pulled away.

“Go home, sweetheart,” he mumbled, kissing me on the forehead before putting some distance between us. He started to pull his mask down but I stopped him, jumping on him one last time in a panic and kissing him with everything I had. It lasted longer and left us both breathless. When I finally stepped back, he just smiled at me, and I realized it was the first time I’d seen his real smile. It was the prettiest thing I’d ever had the luxury of seeing, and I pouted when he covered it up.

“Please stay safe,” I told him, finally letting his hand go and getting in my car.

[jellyfishloveletterghosts]

Some more thoughts Based on this post where you have your soulmates signature and Steve is a bat by @strangersatellites

I'm putting them in a new post so I don't derail it. I hope to I see several take on the initial concept. It's so fun.

Nancy and Jonathan he knows from back home they moved out here before him and have jobs at the paper. Are they are romantically involved or just friends now 🤷‍♀️ either way they work well together.

And they help Steve in his search. Jonathan knows where most of the murals in the city are and Nancy gives him some tips on getting people to give him information and a list of questions to help him along.

Benny has a deli across from one of them. He won't give up much, things good for business draws a crowd and if Eddie just happens to a regular who always tips good well why would he sell him out. Still he does offer Steve a sandwich and a list of a few murals that are lesser known in the city.

Heather works in the shop across from on and is annoyed in the uptick of customers. They're cutting into her down time. She didn't see anything anyway and she tells Steve he's wasting his time. The Bat is a ghost no one ever seen him. Or so she says.

Steve still has to work so there are days when he makes no progress, gets nowhere on finding his soul mate. Spends sleepless night tracing the bat on his hip and looking at the picture Jonathan gave him hoping somewhere in the is a clue.

So on and so forth skipping ahead.

Then the Robin thing I initially brought up

I can see a Steve running around the city type of thing happening because of this. He’s turning into a real detective, asking about all the murals, folks who live in the area. Steve meeting other characters from Stranger Things as he moves closer to his goal of finding his soulmate. He’s checked every single one he knows of is commiserating at the bar by the latest one. Robin is a bartender, mostly waving off his search until he waxes on about his soulmate and how talented they are. Steve isn’t the usual sort looking for Eddie so she slips him the address for another bar, one that play live music, has art all over, tells him to check it out. CC is of course play in front of the biggest mural Steve’s seen from his soul mate yet.

Steve wants to memorize every aspect of the mural, wants to take in every detail but it's hard with a band playing right in front of it. Harder still when his eyes catch on the lead singer and can look away. Mesmerized for an entire set.

He doesn't even realize he's just been sitting there watching until the band leaves for a break. Then he's turning to the bartender, an older man in flannel, asking about the mural. Wayne chuckles, "you'll have to ask the owner about that but he doesn't usually talk about it."

Steve's a little tipsy form earlier as he accepts the beer Wayne slides to him like a condolence. Sulky over one more obstacle standing between him and his person. "Could you ask him anyhow, please?" Wayne looks him over takes in his downtrodden face and the begging tone of his voice before giving a nod.

Steve’s not very hopeful by the time Wayne slides another beer to him either a shrug. He stays for the band and hopes that maybe if he's persistent he'll get the information. Nancy always insists sleuthing takes persistence.

He's mesmerized all over again and feels like dark eyes are boring into him, like this one's just for him. Which is silly, he's drunk and he's never heard this band, much less met the man singing. No way would he be singling him out, just a trick of the lights and the third beer he ordered.

When the singer climbs down from the stage he trips over a light playing it off as a bow. But what stands out to Steve is dark eyes still hooked on him as Eddie dances through the crowd signing autographs and giving hugs.

Steve turns away, it's a lot, too much and he's still ninety percent sure he's imagining it. All up until there's a sweaty musician's chest brushing against his arm as Eddie leans on the bar next to him, "so I hear you've been asking about our favorite artist."

I dunno I'm sorely tempted to write it write it but I've got so many wips already so I jsut wanted to get out some thought because I found the concept so inspired.

[barefoothighlander]

pick and go - 1

summary: you’ve just landed a job as athletic trainer for the manchester rugby team, the night before you start you decide to stop by a pub. you end up meeting Simon who’s rugged charm and strong form influence you to take him home, only to find out the next morning that he plays for the team. rugby au

simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!athletic trainer reader

warnings: smut (mdni), mentions of alcohol, unprotected p-in-v, creampie, oral (fem rec)

a/n: so @/ task141xyn posted a fic with a rugby player!simon and I’m obsessed, I played for like 7 years so I just had to write something. So here's a little self-indulgent one-shot.

next part

The air was warm when you stepped out of your flat, your body exhausted from the hours you spent unpacking and organizing everything inside, this place was new. You weren’t a stranger to the UK, having spent a few years prior working at various clubs around England, one up in Scotland, but you wanted to explore, wanted to see what was around before your life became consumed with broken ankles and concussions.

Walking down the street you’re greeted by various chants from what felt like a hundred pubs, everyone in Manchester in high spirits thanks to their rugby team win that night. You didn’t follow the games too closely, considering your job consisted of attending every game the team played, you’d rather spend your off time not thinking about work.

The city was alive, people flooding the streets while strings of lights illuminate your path. Your eyes set on a large wooden sign, ‘The old maid’ it read, making you laugh a little at the name, you shrug your shoulders I could go for a beer. Entering the pub the climate changed instantly, it was almost stuffy, the large crowd composed of mostly large brawny men, some donning casual clothing, others dressed in red and white stripes.

You seat yourself at the bar ordering a pint from the bartender who nodded and promptly placed one in front of you. It was cold, a welcome change of temperature from the humid aroma of the pub. Working with large sweaty men for years you’d become accustomed to it, but never used to the odour omitted from them.

In a quick turn of events, your sense of smell is taken over by the scent of tobacco, whiskey, and soap as your solitary presence is invaded by a rather large figure looming beside you.

“Buy you a drink?” he asked, his accent thick as the smell of whiskey drafted from his lips.

You turn to face him, he’s gorgeous, broad and tan, dirty blonde hair framing his face that’s littered with small scars you want to run your fingers over them, eyes locking onto his dark orbs, trying to read him but they give nothing away.

“Already have one,” you say, nodding towards your beer a small smirk on your face.

“Yea but you’ve been nursing that since you got here, how about a real drink”

Your eyes gleam “What’d you have in mind”

He raises two fingers to the bartender, pointing back to his own glass before two glasses of dark liquor are placed in front of you.

“Whiskey?”

“Hard to find good bourbon here, it does the trick,” He says scooting his body closer to yours while he pushes the glass toward you.

The two of you sat drinking and talking for a few hours, somewhere between drinks 3 and 4 he had introduced himself as Simon. He was refreshing, you talked about the city, he offered to show you around one day, he was charming, enough so that by midnight you tried to excuse yourself from the pub, arguing that you had work in the morning before stopping yourself for a second, drunken eyes fluttering to his, offering to let him walk you home, his grin grew devilish as he swigged back the remainder of his drink before placing a firm hand on your back, guiding you outside.

Your skin felt like it was on fire, his touch searing as he pulled you into his frame, the now cool night air doing nothing to stop the burning that was creeping up your body. The walk back was filled with laughter, you stumbling a little over the uneven ground and Simon’s arms coming quickly to catch you, holding you close as his eyes scanned over your face.

“This is me,” you say, pointing toward your door.

You pull away from him but he’s quick to grab your face, rough palms holding you steady as he closes the distance and kisses you. You melt into him, hands coming to grip his wrists keeping him connected to you, he finally pulls back allowing you to catch a breath.

“Do you wanna come in?” You ask sheepishly, he doesn’t give you a response, instead just grabs your hand and leads you inside.

Once the door was closed his hands were on you, your waist, your hair, anything he could touch as you practically tear your clothes off, encouraging him to do the same. A mix of your clothing strewn across the floor of your flat as he kisses you, walking your body backwards till your knees collide with the bed and you fall back, he’s quick to cover your form, his broad chest and large arms caging you as your arousal pools in your belly.

“Do you have a rubber?” he asks between kisses.

You shake your head, “I’m clean, on the pill” you say as he plants kisses over your bare neck and chest, earning a wanton moan from you.

He moves down your body, sucking and kissing at the skin of your hips, his mouth rests above the line of your panties as he glances up at you, silently asking for permission.

“Please”

His smirk grows as he tears your panties down your legs, the cool air of the room coming into contact with your wet cunt.

“Fuck you’re beautiful” he whispers before using his flattened tongue to lick a stripe up your heat, earning a gasp from you.

He eats you out like a man starved, hands planted firmly on your waist to keep you from moving as your hands snake down to tangle in his hair, holding him to you. He brings his fingers to tease at your entrance as his lips suck at your clit, you’re a mess of strangled moans as he pushes two fingers into you, pumping slowly, grazing that sweet spot that has you arching into him. He can sense your need, quickening his pace as he watches you come undone on his fingers.

“So perfect doll, want you to cum on my fingers then I’ll give you what you want”

Your muscles seize as he pulls your clit into his mouth, 

“Yes, fuck don’t stop” you manage through your moans.

The band in your stomach threatens to snap as he keeps his pace, watching you squirm under his grip. Your orgasm hits you and your flesh burns, your eyes clamp shut as he continues to lick you through it, watching as your hands grip the sheets beside you. He releases his mouth once he feels you unclench around his fingers, mouth travelling up to lick and tease over your hard nipples, every nerve in your body is screaming as he leans down to kiss you, remnants of your high still on his mouth.

He pumps his cock a few times before teasing at your entrance, watching the way your face contours at the stimulation, he runs the tip along your folds, coating himself in your slick before prodding at your entrance. The stretch of him is uncomfortable, his size far bigger than you’d taken before, he inches himself in slowly, allowing you time to adjust, you run your palms over his chest, stopping to hold at his shoulders as your eyes connect, he pumps into you slowly, watching your mouth fall open as strings of moans come out, you grip at his shoulders to ground yourself as he quickens his pace.

He snakes his hands under your knees to lift your hips from the bed, allowing him to hit deeper inside you, you’re grabbing at the sheets, the pillows, anything you can reach as he fucks hard into you. 

The air is thick with the smell of sex, your hair a mess over the bed while Simon’s body glistens in a thin layer of sweat, the room is filled with moans and grunts, the sound of skin hitting skin as Simon reaches a hand down to toy with your clit causing your body to arch against the bed. His tip is poking against your cervix, gliding deliciously against your walls as he urges you toward another orgasm.

“Fuck baby, need to feel you cum on my cock, need to feel you squeeze me”

It’s all too much, the sensation of being full of him mixed with the way his fingers circle your clit your second high hits you quick, your sight spotted with stars as you feel your blood rushing.

“That’s right, good girl”

His praise has you melting, your body moulding for his pleasure, he grabs your knees, pressing your thighs into your chest as he uses his weight to keep you folded. You can barely form words, all your senses taken over by him, your nails dig into his back, hard enough that you’re sure he’d have marks later. His pace becomes feral, he’s chasing his own high.

“Shit where do you want me”

You roll your head to look up at him, his eyes dark, forehead damp with sweat.

“Inside, please, need to feel you” you manage through your moans.

“Yea? Want me to fill this little pussy”

You nod your head, 

“Need words doll”

“Yes! Fuck, please”

He smirks and with a few more deep thrusts he releases a deep grunt, shooting his load deep into you, he holds himself there for a minute, the two of you catching your breath before he pulls out, watching his seed drip from your sore cunt.

“Fuck that’s a beautiful sight,” he says before moving up the bed and laying back, arm snaking around your back to pull you close to him. You trace patterns over his chest with your finger, revelling in the way his muscles tense when you hit a ticklish spot as his fingers comb through your hair. Your exhaustion catches up to you, his steady breaths slowly lulling you to sleep.

You wake up a few hours later, streams of sunlight making their way through the window, bathing the room in a warm glow, you stretch your limbs and feel over the bed, eyes opening at the realization that you were alone, you huff a laugh to yourself, easier than kicking him out you think as you pick yourself up and walk over to the shower.

Your morning was quick, showering, breakfast and gathering equipment, you had to be at the stadium by 9 and it was already 8:20, you lived rather close which was nice, but having to navigate new streets would take some time.

You made it to work with a few minutes to spare, finding your office and setting up all the equipment you needed, it had become routine, packing and unpacking your things. At 9:30 you heard the laughter from the team rolling in, making their way to the changing room to get dressed for practice, a knock on the door and the head coach is poking his head in.

“Mornin’ ” he says “I’m Nick, head coach for the team, nice to meet you”

You smile and shake his hand introducing yourself.

“Teams all here if you want to meet them” he informs

You nod and let him lead the way down the hall, the room scattered with clothing and equipment, filled with tens of large men.

“Boys this is the new trainer” he introduces you as you wave politely, glancing around the room to look over the men you’d be tending to before you feel your heart drop to the floor. Your eyes land on those dark eyes, the dusty hair, and those arms. You feel your breath hitch as you try to compose yourself, a few team members standing to introduce themselves.

“It’s nice to meet you all, I’ve got some work to do but I’m in my office if anyone needs anything,” you say, turning quickly and rushing back to your office. You feel your heartbeat in your ears fuck why didn’t I ask him what he does for work. In your defence, he didn’t know your occupation either, but from his reaction, he was not as uncomfortable seeing you as you were him.

Your office has a large window that looks out onto the pitch, a perfect view of practice, you try to distract yourself making ice bags and preparing tape but you can’t focus, not when he’s jogging around the field, tackling other men like they weighed nothing, you bite your lip as your thoughts wander to the previous night, at least now you knew where his stamina came from.

A few hours pass before a young man stands in your doorway.

“Hey, one of the guys hurt his wrist, think you could help?” he asks as you nod, grabbing a small bag of tape and making your way to the room.

You step into the sight of a shirtless man, the red lines that littered his skin all too telling, you take a deep breath and make your way over, sitting on a stool in front of him before grabbing his arm to inspect his wrist.

“You didn’t tell me you worked here,” he says, wincing at the pain of you twisting his wrist slightly.

“You didn’t tell me you played here” you respond, eyes glancing up to lock on his, he’s calm, you hope he can’t hear your heartbeat as it thrums in your chest. Your eyes roam over his form, strong arms, abs that you have to fight every urge not to lick right there.

“It’s just a small sprain, I’ll tape it and you’ll be good”

He nods, watching you move around to tape around his wrist.

“Sorry for just leaving”

You huff a laugh, “It’s fine, I would’ve kicked you out anyway”

He quirks an eyebrow, “After I gave you the best sex you’ve ever had” he says grinning

You smile, “You’re very sure of yourself”

“It’s true though”

You shake your head, “I’m finished, get out of here” you say pushing at his shoulder.

He drops from the table, pulling his shirt back on.

“You know if you keep checking me out people are gonna catch on to this”

“This?”

He smirks, “You’re off at 5 yeah?”

You nod, eyes narrowed in question.

“I’ll see you at 5:30 then,” he says with a wink and leaves.

“You are trouble” you whisper to yourself, packing your kit back up before making your way back to your office, watching the minutes tick down.

[albonify]

Two Ghosts - Oscar Piastri

Summery: Y/N and Oscar see each other again after months but they’re both a lot different than they were before.

Warnings: angst, none

based off of Two Ghosts by Harry Styles

Same lips red, same eyes blue

Same white shirt, couple more tattoos

But it's not you and it's not me

Tastes so sweet, looks so real

Sounds like something that I used to feel

But I can't touch what I see

Oscar was just looking for a nice night in after his rookie season ended, but Lando had dragged him to this bar near the hotel and track. Almost the whole grid was there and Oscar just wanted to go back to the hotel. It was a very nice bar, it had lots of space to dance and a huge bar, but Oscar just didn’t like going out. He would much rather be sleeping right now.

He had been with Lando and had a few drinks with him before Lando had went off to dance with a girl that had dragged him away. As soon as Lando left, Oscar had gotten up from the booth he was at and sat down at the bar. Oscar ordered another drink and immediately shrunk. As he waited for his drink he looked around bored, he wanted to be anywhere but here.

The bartender handed him his drink, Oscar thanked him and was about to take a sip when something or rather someone familiar caught his eye. He did a double take, not believing his eyes the first time. He looked more closely this time just to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks. And they weren’t. Out on the dance floor was Y/N, his childhood best friend he hadn’t seen in months. There she stood, with her red lips and blue eyes, her hair flowing as she moved. She hadn’t changed a bit since he last saw her.

Y/N’s eyes locked onto his. She was shocked to see him again after their falling out months ago. He had randomly stopped answering her messages, leaving her alone. She was upset for a long time afterwards but decided she needed to move on. She had stopped watching F1 and had unfollowed him on all socials. But something she couldn’t forget were their memories, or the tattoos she had gotten for him as a surprise but never got to show him.

As she looked at his outfit she realized he was wearing the same white shirt he had worn when she last saw him. They were at her apartment, watching a movie in her room. This was normal for them, having been friends since they were kids. She looks at him again. He hadn’t changed one bit since she last saw him. Still tall, broad, muscular and awkward. And no matter how much pain he put her through by randomly leaving, she couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him.

Oscar decided he had stared at her long enough and went to go talk to her, when her dress rode up a bit allowing Oscar to see a tattoo he had never seen before. He walked towards her to get a closer look. It was a butterfly with the words ‘everything happens for a reason’ written underneath it. It was then he realized she had a lot of tattoos now. The girl having none the last time he saw her.

He tried to see all of her tattoos, the thigh butterfly, the ‘777’ on her wrist, and the ‘16’ on her pinky. He remembers her telling him about those numbers as a kid, her lucky number having been 16 and her lucky number and her favorite number being the 777 angel number. As she moved her hair he saw a small tattoo behind her ear but couldn’t get a good look at it.

He had finally built the courage to go up to her. As he got closer he noticed how different she actually had been. She didn’t have the same glitter in her eyes anymore and her smile wasn’t as bright anymore.

Y/N watched as Oscar got closer. The more steps he took the more she noticed the subtle changes he had. His eyes showed a little bit more distance and his mouth closed a little bit tighter.

They had both changed so much since they last saw each other. But weather it shows or not, neither of them are the same anymore.

“Hi” Oscar said breathlessly as he looked at the girl he hadn’t seen in months. Though it was all his fault and he regrets it terribly. After watching a movie at her apartment he had realized that his feelings for her were deeper than friendship. He had decided to run from her as to not get his feelings hurt, unknowingly hurting hers in the process.

“Hello Oscar” Oscar watched her face as she spoke, her eyes had clouded slightly as she said his name and he felt guilt take over his body knowing it was his fault she was like this. “How have you been?”

Oscar takes a moment to reply to her, wondering if he should tell her the truth ‘i’ve been awful, im sorry i left its because i was in love with you and i had a feeling you felt the same and i didn’t want to make things awkward’

“Fine” He had replied to her question “How have you been?” Y/N doesn’t want to answer, not because she doesn’t want to talk to Oscar again, but because she truly doesn’t know.

“I’ve been fine aswell” Y/N says instead of asking the questions roaming her head, ‘why did you leave me?’ ‘did you know i loved you?’ ‘were you gonna come back?’ ‘when did you decided to leave’. She shook her head to rid the questions.

The space between them had become awkward. Oscar clears his throat to speak. “I saw you got some tattoos” he said, pointing to her wrist.

“Oh yeah!” Y/N smiles brightly at the mention of her tattoos. “I have 5 now!” 5? Oscar asks himself, he had only seen 3?. But his thought were cut short by Y/N speaking again.

“The ‘777’ on my wrist, the ‘16’ on my pinky, the butterfly on my thigh, the…” Y/N hesitates as she thinks of the other two tattoos. Does she really want to show them to the guy she got them for as a surprise but never got to show him? So she compromises.

“And then I have one behind my ear and one on my back” she had finished the list, purposefully not telling him what they were. This made Oscar curious as to what they were. Why would she not tell him what they were like she did the other 3? Were they regretful ones, ones that didn’t turn out well? Y/N could tell he had questions but was grateful he didn’t ask them.

The air between them was tense and awkward as they just looked at each other. Neither of them speaking because they didn’t know what to say. Y/N looked at the ground and Oscar looked at Y/N.

“OP81 and a race car” Y/N had said quietly, still looking at the floor. Oscar was confused, having not heard what she said. “What?”

“My tattoos, behind my ear is ‘OP81’ and on my back is a race car.” Y/N said taking a breath “I had gotten them as a surprise but never got to show them to you”. Y/N said, more clearly this time.

Oscar looks at her shocked, she had gotten tattoos for him? and he had left her? He felt like the biggest idiot ever.

Oscar just looked at her “I- I didn’t know” he stuttered as he grabbed her hand.

Y/N looked up at him “Of course not” and she removed her hand from his.

As they stood there, looking at each other Oscar knew she was no longer in love with him and Y/N knew that Oscar no longer knew her.

They knew there was no way they could ever be friends anymore, let alone more than friends, They knew this was goodbye. They weren’t the people they were a few months ago. They were just strangers, trying to remember how it was before each other.

We're not who we used to be

We're not who we used to be

We're just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me

Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat

[jainydoe]

Metastable; Chapter 1

When it started, he told himself it was something irrelevant - that squirming in his gut and need to straighten his vest, smooth his hair, feel if his face was really getting hot or it was a trick of the senses.

This whole thing was a bug to be squashed. A burnt dinner you ate anyway and hoped you forgot about in the morning. Her glances were an accident. She wasn’t taking an inventory of his features the way he did hers. Those weren’t the kind of words he should take seriously. Her comments on his jewels or his impressive use of language. Each time she’d look up at him through her lashes, ghost of a smile on her lips and a quick remark about his intellect, his looks, how very capable he was and what a brilliant idea it was to bring him along, she should kiss Bellara for being such a good scout - he really was such a dashing asset - he’d feel that voltage in his chest saying do it. 

Ask her to dinner. 

Buy her some jewelry. 

Tell her how dashing she’d look in Nevarran robes. 

With a Nevarran date. 

In his Nevarran sheets. 

Then, of course, reality would whack his thoughts away with a ruler and cruel grin. 

You published your first paper before she was a thought in her mommy’s belly. 

He quickly ushers her out of his quarters so he can grip the balcony railing and will himself to hold down his lunch. He reminds himself to ask Lucanis about how he keeps Spite at bay. He’ll be sure it comes across casual. Purely academic. That’s all he is, anyway. A brain for hire. Years of practice in the type of classical restraint that comes so naturally nowadays will work on the likes of Lucanis. It held up with the Dalish boy years ago, too. And that woman from Orlais. And the bartender from that place after that thing a while back. Maybe it’s because Rook can dismantle him so easily that terrifies him as much as it intoxicates. A girl with a puzzle she’s solving too fast, expectant eyes soon to be following. Was that all? 

He tells himself getting to know the rest of their quilt-together cohort will distract from the certain doom of Captain Rook, Daring Young Adventurer. Stronger. More capable. More dashing of an asset. Bellara is a fine way to achieve this. So many questions. So eager. So curious. Time flies when they dissect their studies. She reminds him of a younger version of himself, back before things got easier. He’s not here to make friends, exactly, and after meeting everyone, it’s not something he banks on succeeding in, but she’s a decent partner for lengthy discussion. The sun is on their shoulders one afternoon, papers scattered on a bench outside, and after they’ve exhausted themselves over rhetoric, he watches as Bellara’s eyes follow after their fearless leader. She sighs. 

“Isn’t Rook just so,” she trails off. 

“She is,” he answers. 

Yes, he sees himself in her. Curious and eager. Hungry. A dreamer, cursed. They don’t realize minutes go by in silence until Rook casts a glance their way, eyes darting between the two before a smile unlike one he’s seen before melts and simmers onto her expression. It’s hard. Acidic. The kind reserved for enemies before battle. It runs a shiver down his scalp and settles in his hands. They continue their discussion on summoning spirits and ignore each other’s shaken breath. 

The next morning, Rook doesn’t invite him on the mission and it’s an embarrassment. He’s become accustomed to their routine. Expectant. It’s a strange type of pride he holds close to the vest. He knows it’s because he’s older, wiser, more practiced than the rest of their crew. 

But isn’t that a bad thing, old man? 

He still hasn’t asked Lucanis about Spite. Damnit. Serves him right. He stands at the breakfast table, patting his mouth free of crumbs and making his way to change into his gear when Rook shouts, “Neve, Lucanis, we’re heading out to Tevinter.” 

He’s embarrassed by how fast he turns to stare. It’s embarrassing the way his mouth opens, as if to protest, before quickly shutting and his hands beginning to flex. 

It should be strange for you to come along, at all, reason whispers. You’re a brain for hire, remember? Sometimes, Rook doesn’t wanna carry the team all on her graceful shoulders. You should know. Dead Weight Walking. 

Even Neve looks confused, but steels her expression and nods. He sees the ways hers and Lucanis’ eyes meet, then depart, then meet again, cheeks growing redder by the second. They’ll make a handsome couple. An appropriate couple. He feels a boiling behind his eyes at how easy it must be for him. To just ask. To smile at Neve. To offer her sweets and them both understand it’s a prelude. When he gets back to his quarters, he rips open his desk drawer and rummages for the gold case of Rivaini cigarettes he’d managed to stave off for long enough he couldn’t remember. For someone so petrified of death, it was funny how instantly he itched for a smoke at times like this. He decides he won’t draw comparisons between the cigarettes and Rook. She’s not an addiction. She’s not death. She’s not something to hide in a drawer. He paces out his room, through the den, out onto the balcony to get some last few seconds of fresh air. As he closes his eyes, breeze kissing the back of his neck and hips leaned against the railing, his mind billows over to a girl - bloody, victorious, fire in her gaze as she looms over her latest triumph - and he feels himself get hard. It’s harder to ignore when he hears her laughter below. 

He looks down at the quad, quickly finding a rare smile on brave Davrin’s face, and next to him, a giggling Rook. They’re going inside to the library. Perhaps to her room. Maybe they’ll swap horror stories and he’ll show her just how those Grey Wardens keep warm in the wetlands. Before he can stop himself, he flicks the rest of his cigarette off the edge, it landing on Davrin’s shoulder. He’s quick enough to duck away before either can find his horrified expression looking down at them. Their continued laughter makes his mouth taste like ash. 

A week has gone by and he’s catching up on one of the books he brought from home, a story about two brothers and betrayal, when a low knock echoes through the room. Manfred is with Harding, this evening. He’s thankful for the companionship. He makes his way to the door, tying his robe and beginning a Thank You, Harding speech when those eyes stare up in mild amusement, minor challenge. “Do you always wear collared shirts to bed?” 

He stares for a moment before looking above her head, out into the darkness of the hall. “Common side-effect of working late.” They watch each other before she steps close and then closer, shoulder brushing his ribcage as she pushes her way into the room. 

“You have a real eye for design, you know. Everything is so very … clean.” She brushes her fingers along the staircase, the autopsy table, the fireplace, and he follows her trail, stalking like a wisp. “And it smells like something lovely. Flowers?” 

“Lilacs.” 

She hums in acknowledgement, turning to him. Her nose twitches as she inhales, gently leaning in. “You even smell like lilacs. It’s perfect in here. Pristine.” He can’t breathe. “I suppose that’s why you smoke outside then?” 

This must be what it feels like when your lungs collapse, he thinks. “I am, I am so very, very sorry, I had no idea young Davrin, or you, for that matter, were walking that way, I was simply falling into old habits and once I realized what happened, I was so mortified, I just had to, well, I just, I panicked, I suppose the point is I am so completely sorry and will be sure to send Davrin a plate of confections in the morning as an apology, I hope he wasn’t offended,” he hasn’t breathed in a while and decides to. She says nothing. Then laughs. Like the fact she’s found him funny should be a secret. She follows with a whisper. 

“Next time you want to smoke and be angry, send over an invitation.” 

He wants to ask how she knew he was angry, but she brushes past his arm and glides slowly to the door. Ghostly in her perfection. 

“Have a nice night, Emmrich.” 

He’s not sure if he does.

Things go back to their version of normal. He comes along on journeys, offering information and excellent healing charms. He kindly ignores the jabs her colleagues take, making it clear not only do they find him off putting, but they question Rook’s judgment. When she shuts them down, lovingly firm, eyes clear and shoulders squared, he wants to kiss her. Thank her for rescuing him. Bat his eyes and smile and sigh and grip her armor as she pins him to the side of a cave. It’s refreshing, being outside and flexing his magic. Proving his worth beyond a seminar. The sun agrees with him. The exercise agrees with him. For once, he’s not thinking about how slow he feels and how choking the future can be. He’s staring out at the coastline, the bustle of Minrathous buzzing behind him when a hand rests on his shoulder, her breath hot against his ear. “You were excellent today. How lucky am I?”

I. I. I. Not we. I. 

By the time he looks down, she’s gone, but she’s smiling at him over her shoulder, hair floating in the breeze and tan setting in on her skin. Her cheeks are flushed and the hair around her temples are sweaty. The slice of pie she had earlier has crusted into the corner of her mouth. A berry smudge that paints her lips in a suspended smirk. He realizes, in that moment, that things are much worse than he originally thought.

That evening, he writes a letter to his colleague at the college. 

Dear Simon,

I hope you’re well, blah blah blah, I’m doing this and that, etcetera, etcetera, how is so and so, whatever whatever, tea at our normal haunt? Hope to hear from you soon.

E

Simon wasn’t exactly a friend. There are a lot of not-exactly’s when you’re a professor as decorated and relaxed in his field as Emmrich was. But when there are plenty of pricks in the department and you find a fellow with enough self awareness to not keep his published works loudly present on his desk or laugh the hardest at the dean’s quarterly dinners, you keep in touch. 

“What’s shaking, Ricky,” he smiles, flat accent blaring. Fine, he responds, just fine. They share a pot of tea, trading rumors and stories about other faculty members before he feels comfortable enough bringing it up. 

“I know this isn’t something you probably want to discuss,” he starts, keeping his eyes trained on the tea leaves lurking at the bottom of his cup. Blueberry lavender. “And I understand if you want to change the subject entirely.” He holds his breath. “You and your wife.”

He doesn’t have to say anything more. Simon straightens, crossing his legs and leaning away from the table to stare at the rest of the establishment. It’s dim in lightning and warm, a kind separation from the chilling darkness outside. No one they know is here. That doesn’t make things better. “Is this why you wanted to meet? To question me about,”

He throws a hand over the table, splayed next to Simon’s cup. This is out of character. He hopes it conveys the urgency. “When did you know it was more than,” he looks around, “more than just you. Did she,” he’s sweating. Must be the fire. “Did she say something or, or do something to suggest,” he can’t finish his thought. 

Simon’s eyes widen for a moment before his shoulders lower, eyes quickly going to the fire before meeting Emmrich’s. He understands. “She held my hand. I’d told her about my daughter being sick and she was so. Sorry. But she wouldn’t stop staring at my mouth.” He tilts his head. “Of course, nothing happened until after she graduated. No matter what the others might tell you.” He leans in. “How old is she? Yours?” 

Emmrich thinks of rotting flesh, Assan dead, mutilated villages to wage war against the shocking thrill of hearing her described as his, however untrue the claim may be. 

“Young enough for it to not be real.” 

At that, Simon laughs. “Been there, old pal. Write me when it gets all too real, all too fast.”

He promises, should that unreality make itself real, he will. He’d throw a parade, too. And go skinny dipping in Hossberg. 

No one asks where he’s been when he returns to the Lighthouse. Instead, he arrives to a slice of pie on his desk, a note with a bit of blue thumbprint on the edge. 

Trust me, it’s delicious. 

-R

He doesn’t think twice before digging a finger into the center, ripping off his slice and slipping it into his mouth. It’s sweet. It’s tart. It’s a perfectly fine pie and he imagines blue thumbprints all over her body. A joke about how she's the only thing he'll get dirty over. He lets the slice melt on his tongue. 

“A little birdie told me someone likes you ,” Bellara sings to Davrin, feet kicking under the dinner table. Conversation swings their way, smiles all around and drinks spilling in favor of hearing Bellara’s hot new gossip. Rook is the only person not present. 

“Oh, yeah? What have you heard?” Bellara’s beaming behind her hand, leaning over the food to whisper in his ear. 

This table is a young man’s game. 

Emmrich prides himself on manners. No one would ever accuse him of impoliteness. Which is why he says to no one in particular that he’s excusing himself for the evening before pushing his chair out and beginning the walk back to his room. It’s more like a pre-jog. He’s only had half a dinner but that’s fine. There will be no wars won tomorrow. He wishes there were stars around here, instead of this blasted, perpetual summertime. He considers going home, where he could wallow and rot in peace. Before he can enter the library, tell Manfred to pack a bag and make sure to pack his robe, a flaming hot sizzle lands on his left shoulder. In surprise, he yelps, brushing it off and looking up to see who the hell would dare?

She would. She would dare. “Walking home all by yourself, handsome?”

He huffs, if just to make her feel the slightest bit bad. He knows it won’t work. “Lost my appetite, I’m afraid.” 

She beckons him up the stairs. “Good thing I’ve got just the thing to help.”

When he reaches the top, she’s lighting a new cigarette, passing it to him as she stares out onto the cul-de-sac they’ve begun to find familiar. “If these kill me, will you bring me back?”

He doesn’t want to let on how terrified the thought leaves him. Instead, he looks her in the eye, letting the end rest on his lower lip before sucking down a deep inhale, eyes stuck on hers. “You know, the likelihood is I go out before you, my dear. Should I decide against immortality.”

Her eyebrow quirks. He ignores that she’s staring at his mouth. “What do you think of our little stowaways?” 

“Perfectly qualified team of individuals. They’re certainly exciting.” 

She sighs. He starts wondering how he answered her wrong, but she cuts in. “One of these days, I’d appreciate if you told me what you really think. However,” she stops, looking at his nose, his tie, his chin, “... improper … you may think it be.”

He wants to kiss her. He’s going to kiss her. He’s going to drop his cigarette and light this place on fire and feel the flames licking their legs as he bites into her neck and dares everyone to admire just how accomplished he really is. 

She grabs the cigarette from his lips. He finds it’s his cue to answer. “I could do with less from Davrin, lately.” He’s shocked he’s said it. “I mean,”

“Wow, didn’t realize you really meant to burn him earlier.”

“I didn’t, I-”

“You got a problem?”

“No, I don’t, really, I don’t know why I-”

“It makes sense, really. He’s brave, and strong, and all the things that make a hero. ”

He schools his expression into the one reserved for faculty meetings and difficult students. It’s hard. It’s acidic. “I see you’ve taken an interest in a new companion. How charming. I’m sure you’re both," he considers his words, "well-suited for each other.”

Something shifts in her gaze. Off-kilter. On the back foot. She ceases to be the warrior he works with, the woman that torments him - instead, he sees a girl, fingers picked bloody and lip worked raw, suddenly unsure. He sees himself in her. Hungry and cursed. 

“I certainly have taken an interest, Emmrich.” Ever daring, she steps closer. Her hand brushing his against the rail, then curled against her chest, then to her lips and finally placing the bit of cigarette left between his lips. “A little birdie tells me you feel the same.” 

Later that night, when he’s ghosting his hand over her backside, watching his fireplace dance shadows on their legs, he asks Manfred for some stationary and ink. He has a surprising letter to write.  Ch. 2

[bardace]

I need to make more drawtectives ghost trick au stuff. People need to know how right I am. Rollerskating chicken waitress Harper failing to flirt with bartender Abayomi and accidentally blowing out detective Sam Ug’s ears with a bug planted in the chicken.