#he didn’t even kill him and he was STILL seeing his fucking ghost around

[silo1013]

mulder is such an obsessive and guilt ridden person he has so much trouble with the revenge thing. they had to make skinner kill krycek because if mulder had done it he would have started hearing krycek’s heart beating from under the floorboards

[screampied]

BAD ROMANCE! — ☆ SATOSUGU.

➤ popstar!gojo mlist.

headline. being sandwiched between a popstar and geto, his bassist best friend was almost like a fever dream. what happens when they start fighting over who can make you moan the highest note? sharing is caring…right?

word count. 5.8k (i am sorry)

warnings. fem! reader, popstar!gojo au, bassist geto, geto has a tongue piercing, threesome, double penetration, manhandling, fucking while standing, size kink, unprotected sex, implied multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, gojo slander (lol)

an. makes sense if u read the first part !! if not that’s okaaay. sry for any errorssss aha

“seriously. join…the two of you?” geto mutters with a subtle eye twitch—you stared at the lead bassist, and he briefly returned a glance. his hands were buried in his pockets, wearing a leather jacket, ripped jeans and a fitted white tank underneath. geto’s hair was a tad bit ruffled with a perfect length wolf cut. “you do realize your fans have been waiting for you for over an hour.”

“oh….right, i did have a concert,” gojo nervously chuckles, running a hand down his neck. “they heard everything too. nanami’s gonna kill me. that’s fun.”

geto’s eyes dart back towards you and suddenly you feel extremely nervous. you could never ever read him, he just a blank stare plastered amongst his face.

“i don’t think we’ve officially met. wish i didn’t have to meet you half-naked but,” and you were embarrassed, feeling the tips of your ears get feverish and abnormally hot. “i’m this idiot’s bassist. suguru ge—”

“bro she didn’t ask for your life story,” gojo groans, and you let off a gasp once he lifts you up, an arm underneath you and another bringing you towards his chest. “sugupoo, you didn’t answer my question.”

“sugupo—” he furrows his eyebrows, repeating the petname. geto grumbles, “…fine, but not here. we can…go back to my hotel or something.”

this was far more than anything you could have imagined. being between two idols. more so gojo but still. you were pretty much left with shredded clothing thanks to gojo barely even an hour ago…

“is she always this sensitive to touch?” geto utters, peeling your the remains of your clothes off — which was basically just a thin robe. he was tantalizingly slow with his hands, the very pads of his fingertips ghosting against your skin made you left off a soft gasp.

“pretty much,” gojo hums, and you watch as the popstar lowers his head to kiss near your thighs. “she’s a little camera shy.”

“what does that even-”

“…nevermind.”

geto was more tame while gojo was far more eager. you make brief eye contact with geto and he leans in toward you. you were expecting him to kiss you but instead, he brings a thumb towards your lip and smiles. “you’re a lot prettier in person, assistant. what are you doing messing around with this idiot?”

“um—”

“none of your business. besides, don’t talk to my work wife like that.” gojo pouts, and he makes you face him directly. 

obviously, he was being nothing but a pure tease. you feel yourself grow hot once gojo presses his lips onto yours. you could hear geto scoffing in the background.

you and gojo weren’t exactly a thing… although, maybe this “thing” was developing into some sort of fling. 

you moan into his mouth, feeling gojo’s hand trail down to part against your thigh before geto pries the two of you off, only to bring you into a much more steamy kiss. 

gojo’s jaw drops dramatically, a squeaky gasp leaving his lips as he watches you make out with geto.

geto was far more passionate and tender by a mile. with a soft thumb grazing beneath your chin, you let off a soft whine. tasting the sugary spiced alcohol on his tongue…..just a tang, but it was enough for you to covet more of him. more of his taste.

“this isn’t…. fair.” gojo nags, yet his body feels otherwise. seeing his bassist of a best friend kiss you deeply, touching all over your body. he started to feel himself get…aroused. 

you feel a cunning smirk go against geto’s lips. with a hand gripped softly underneath your chin, he continues to stroke it soothingly. 

he was so deliberate with his tongue, making sure to savour every inch of you. a groan leaves his mouth as he deepens the kiss for a brisk second. his breath was eminently lukewarm, and you don’t even recollect yourself pulling him closer to your already achey body. 

“suguru, you’re beinʼ stingy,” gojo frowns, starting to think if suggesting him to tag along was a good idea… perhaps not… after all, he was the satoru gojo. he’s never been a fan of share the spotlight.

geto swiftly pulls away and his eye contact against you makes you grow hot. his eyes spoke a thousand words, dirty dirty words though. gojo lets off a vexed sigh before running a hand through his hair. “…i have an idea though.”

“what?” you and geto both speak in low unison. 

the popstar has a cheeky grin on his lips before playfully rolling his eyes, tilting his head. “which can make her louder. then again, i already know i’m gonna win sooo…”

geto utters in the most sassiest tone imaginable, “please. you’d probably be the loudest out of all of us but fine.”

the thought of them both fighting over you, your client, and his best friend as well as his lead bassist.

you firmly clasped your thighs together before shyly drawing circles against the outer part of your arm. “well, he was pretty loud earlier. his fans heard him moaning all through his mic backstage and—”

“tch. shut up..” he grumbles, trying to forget that incident even happened. 

gojo now decides to pulls you into sweet passionate fulfilled kiss, and it’s deep with a bit of tongue.

you were indeed basically naked with the exception of a silk sage-colored robe he bought you as a new year’s eve gift. it hung down your body perfectly, just enough to make out your skin. 

geto makes you slip a whine into gojo’s mouth once he spreads your legs with one hand—you were drenched, soaked….no doubt about it. “no panties,” he mutters in a rough voice. “satoru must’ve beat me to it, hmpf.”

you started to pant the more gojo moved his tongue against yours, you could tell how needy he was. even though he already had a taste from you earlier, he wanted more. you were like some kind of candy, intoxicatingly sweetened. 

he smoothly slides his tongue against your bottom lip, grunting from the leftover taste of your flavored lip gloss that was by this point smeared across your lips. whenever gojo kissed you, you had this warm burning feeling inside. it was indescribable, you knew more than anyone how unprofessional this was…yet it felt good, his touch, his taste, even his rich scent. 

“what a mess. already drenched for me,” geto murmurs, and you peek an eye open to watch the bassist go down, between your legs. you sit up with gojo tilting your head to face him, thighs spread apart and you let off a moan once he starts to work his way. 

slowly, geto creates tender kisses… 

he creates a simple trail, all up your thighs. the softness of his lips pressing against your skin made you whine against gojo’s lips.

gojo moves your chin back to focus back towards him, and he gives your bottom lip an impish bite.

peppering the side parts of your mouth with numerous wet kisses. “mwah,” he’d coo, a teasing gesture yet the stare he gave you made you throb. “my fans heard us…heard you, y’know. how does that make you feel?”

you stare at gojo, and his eyebrows are slightly raised in curiosity. he was such a tease, wanting to know your response. 

geto’s tongue licks against the inner part of your thigh and you moan. that’s when you feel a slight coldness of his tongue piercing run against your skin — it tickles but in the best way imaginable. 

he starts to suck against your skin, a soft ‘pop’ skims past his lips and you whine before gojo squeezes your lips together. 

“heyyy, pretty. ‘m talking to you.” he whispers, leaning in to sneak another kiss on your mouth. 

“i— i liked it,” you utter, geto’s touch from underneath, a finger trailing against your skin with his tongue following shortly afterward made you pulse continuously. “knowing everyone heard me….your die-hard fans, it turned me on a little.”

“yeah? did it really?” he grins, showcasing a casual head tilt. “wow, you really are a kinky girl. but it turned me on too,” he adds, inching his face towards your neck to give it a soft suck. “hmph. next time i should probably fuck you on stage, wouldn’t that be a pretty sight,” he murmurs, his voice playfully lowering. “ooh, it’s probably all over the headlines, but eh, who gives a shit, right? not me, and definitely not her.”

you were just about to let off a mewl once gojo reached down to give your pussy a mean squeeze as soon as he referred to it as ‘her.’

he brings an additional kiss to you before you feel the warmth of geto’s breath fan against your entrance. you start to pant, feeling gojo’s hands roam and wander all against your body. 

an abrupt shock surges throughout your skin from his fingertips and the silk robe you wore. gojo traced a thumb against your nipple—your overly-sensitive nipple that poked through the thin pretty fabric. you were so aroused that your mind raced just as quickly as your heartbeat did. 

“fuck…dunno know what it is about you,” he murmurs, breaking away a few seconds to speak. there was a titillating bass that carried underneath gojo’s tone. 

you could hear it in his voice, how pitchy and low it would get at certain times. “just lookin’ at you gets me s-so hard,” and then he swallowed for a second, departing eye contact out of sheer flusteredness and it was cute. “still a bit…sensitive from earlier though. had the audacity to keep ridin’ me after i c-came.” 

“sorry.” you playfully press your lips together, glancing up at him and he grows embarrassed for a moment at remembering the pure thought. 

the image of him… the satoru gojo and you, his trusty assistant — being on top of the famous well-known pop star, riding him until he whined for just you and only you.

not to mention as well as having him as an entire mess underneath you. he probably was too stubborn to realize it but you had him wrapped around your pretty little finger…

to think that was just about nearly half an hour ago. your thoughts get interrupted from feeling geto’s tongue meekly lick against your inner folds. a sharp breath elicits from your throat as you look down at him already staring at you with a smug grin. 

“toru already got here too?” he whispers, ghosting a thumb against your sodden folds. his slender fingers were so long and lengthy, nails perfectly manicured, and of course, he’d have well-trimmed nails because of his status as a professional bassist.

all things considered, geto would just be godly with his fingers. it was no secret, really…

“of course i fuckin’ did.” gojo pouts, giving him a nettled glare. 

geto snickers. “aw. poor girl,” and then he makes eye contact with you, smugly simpering.

geto takes a second to tie his hair back into a messy ponytail before pursing his lips to speak. “he’s a good singer, yeahhh. but he has a huge lack of skill at eating pussy. trust me.”

“shut up, man..” gojo’s eyes widen, the tips of his ears burning, it was adorable. “that’s…not true.”

it was.

“suguruuu..” you whined, not even realize how much you were desperately aching for him. the two bickering was a constant thing, but you decided to ignore it and let the lust take over. 

“i’m sorry, i should be paying more attention to you,” he mutters, using a hand to shove your right thigh a few inches away.

geto promptly rolls out his tongue….slowly, pink and pretty. clean. your eyes peer at the pretty piercing that laid flat against the center part. “keep these legs spread for me. can you be a good girl ‘n do that?”

you unwittingly feel yourself pulse just from that action of him showing you a good view of his tongue. you give the bassist a pathetic eager nod, a hand running towards the roots of his hair to grip it before he grins. “good, ‘cause ‘m starved.”

“sugu, what… what am i supposed to do?” gojo huffs out. 

“figure it out yourself, popstar.” geto murmurs, and a soft pout twists against gojo’s lips. 

that’s when he makes you turn over to where you’re on your hands and knees—you face forward, most importantly, you face forward right against gojo’s crotch. face front and all.

he lingers near the edge of the bed, towering over you with a hungry gaze before letting off a whine. 

“jus’ look at me….i can’t perform like this,” not like he was going to perform anyway…but you stare at gojo’s body. all he wore was sweats, the original partially bedazzled outfit that was actually geto’s was practically torn. “you gave me this boner, ‘s your fault ‘m all needy.”

geto interrupts the erotic atmosphere with his tongue gradually flicking against your pussy, two rough hands spread the fat of your ass and you whine at how abruptly lewd it was. “oh my g-goddd.”

gojo feels like he has competition with geto, so he frowns—the pout remaining on his pink sheeny lips before he grips ahold of your chin to make you stare straight at him whilst you’re on all fours on the cushioned mattress. 

“been…been wantin’ to finally see what this pretty throat feels like,” 

he sighs, and he watches as you already start to lean into his touch. you’re on the palms of your hands, back slightly arched before you pull the hem of his boxers down with your teeth. “you’re such a little... you…you know what you’re doing..”

gojo lets off a soft grunt, gripping your hair, and as you inch your face closer toward him — a few specks of his neatly scattered brush against his face. you lick against the padded fabric of his boxers, curving your tongue against the print of his bulge and he swallows thickly. 

“you’re so fuckin’ nasty,” he huffs, bringing you all close to his briefs. you stare up at gojo, licking against the thin madematerial before cupping your mouth over his bulge…right near his base, in a much playful manner. “you’re—just asking to have a stuffed full mouth, huh?”

again, geto’s tongue rummaged all throughout your pussy while you absentmindly toying with gojo throws you off for a sudden concise moment. 

he was just as filthy, maybe even filthier. as you propped up—you whimpered, feeling how he ran his tongue all along your sweetened labia. 

your pussy pulsed against his movements, he starts to teasingly nibble on your clit before giving it a loooong suck. 

“mmph.” he’d grumble, and within minutes you could tell you had him entirely drunk. his tongue was just skimming around and against your clit that forevermore clenched. before you know it, you’re starting to intensely jounce and convulse because of the stimulation. 

his tongue laid flat against your pussy, the piercing that stuck against him, the slight coldness of it made you obliviously arch your back a bit more. toes of yours clenched in desire before your mouth opened at his technique.

geto was slow but sensual. 

his tongue… it spiraled against your pussy in a sweet motion to make you sob out a cry. 

“open that mouth,” gojo mutters, his hand still gripping your chin, and you do, parting your lips before watching him spring his dick out. it was throbbing, swollen, and not to mention quite pretty.

he wasn’t lying—you did leave him incredibly sensitive from earlier…

gojo lets off a breathless groan once he watches you kiss the tip of his cock head, which ends up turning into many kisses. his lip quivers the more time he spends staring at you. his breath becomes abnormally shaky, all because of you.

“…don’t tease me,” he whines before wrapping shuddery fingers around his fat length, giving it a few swift pumps before he starts to smear his pre-cum smothered tip all across your lips.

you give the popstar a cute, roguish glance before skimming the tip of your tongue against his frenulum. 

that spot…it was that spot that always gave gojo chills. he was trying too hard to keep up a tough front. he’s suppressing his moans before he watches you sink him down inch by inch. 

“mouth of yours ‘s just askin’ to be ruined,” he moans, and your eyes dart back up toward the popstar. his washboard abs tightened as he stood still, watching you lower your throat on him. you were a bit sloppy not to mention, strands of spit were already running down the side of your chin. “such a slutty assistant. unprofessional and—”

gojo shuts up the moment he feels your tongue stir leisurely against his tip, he’s halfway in before you gag. he reaches the roof of your mouth already, and you’re keeping him warm, all thanks to your throat.

“…damn girl,” he huffs, and as you’re breathing through your nose, he grabs a fistful of your hair.

with a tight pull, your eyes meet his abs again, and he was so fit. figures, he is an industrially well-trained dancer after all. gojo’s workout routine was no mystery. you throbbed a bit the more you stared at his body. 

as your eyes rove, you spotted a few lipstick stains smeared all against gojo’s skin, as well as a few sharpie marks. you figured it was from one of his obsessed die-hard fans.

it was just the way his perfectly sculptured chiseled v-line presented itself. the few specks of white hairs trailing down his area further and further to where it aligns toward his happy trail…

yet, the more you stared back at the dozens of now nearly faded marks of lipstick stains scattered all over his body—you don’t know why but you felt this peculiar feeling of…jealousy. 

was it jealousy?

geto continues to eat you out as you’re trapped in a dark bubble of your thoughts, and you whimper once you feel the soft padded tip of his nose slide all against your pussy. 

he was quite literally nose-deep, making you extra sensitive by adding a finger to rub against your soaked folds. 

his touch was fiery warm.

as you started to moderately make your lips firm. you slid your tongue out before gently rubbing it against the very underside part of his cock. gojo groans once more, face growing flustered as a hand remains at the top of your head. “such a filthy mouth,” he pants, hovering over you beside the bed.  

geto’s still eating you from behind, and he starts sucking again. passionately sucking on your throbbing neglected clit. he makes it his passion to give it all sorts of uninvited attention to feel you pulse and convulse into and against his mouth. 

gojo watches you start to vigorously shake and twitch from his best friend’s tongue, and he raises your chin up to look right at him.

mouth full and all, your tongue reaches the inner vein part of gojo’s lanky cock, he whines. 

“s-shit,” he sibilates through gritted teeth, and that’s when he started to pivot his hips a bit. gojo thrusts into your mouth — and his moans were so pretty to listen to, he was a soprano after all.

the way his voice would effortlessly pitch all because of your tongue…he grabs your head, gently, yet with just enough pressure he makes you go back and forth, he’s stuffing your throat full of his girth, full of his inches.

you’re a mess, strings of saliva pouring down your chin and he looks down at you before nervously chuckling. “look at you. what, are you trying to say something?”

and he’s just at his limit, near the edge yet is such a brat. way too much for his own good. “don’t try to talk with y-your mouth full, princess.”

abruptly, you feel that familiar rush disrupt your thinking and you suddenly tense.

geto’s tongue slithers all against that spot, deep between your folds, and giving it a good nibble before your legs nearly give out right then and there. such whirlpools, a plethora of them came crashing down all at once before you moaned, the sensation was almost too much to bare. 

“give it to me, c’mon. i wanna hear you.” geto whispers, breath wafting against your clit. glossed pink lips of his was just drenched with your slit for it’s entirety.

he merrily blows against your pussy and that was just about the last straw for you—you end up cumming, and it had your eyebrows furrowing with such pleasure. 

“pft. took me longer to make her cum when i…” gojo gruffs, the same pout still pursed against his lips as he watched you riding your orgasm off against the bassist’s tongue. 

covetously, he watches as your eyelids start to droop and you’re growing quite dumb.

geto’s tongue….the length of it, the piercing, it tickled against your wet entrance as well as having you spasming and craving for more. 

gojo takes his dick out of your mouth hastily with a cute scowl on his lips whilst geto departs from behind you. 

he has a sly grin, bringing a thumb up to the corner of his mouth before swiping your slick clean. 

“jealous, ‘toru?”

“…no,” he grouches, and he definitely was. the popstar lifts you up suddenly, and your arms wrap around his neck, still panting from your recent jaw-dropping orgasmic release. “i can still do better than you, sugupoo.”

“i told you to stop calling me that.” geto chastised, standing up also. walking towards you, he ran a hand down your back and you moaned from his touch. 

you bury your face into gojo’s neck, your own warm breath going back against your face. the pop star’s half-cut-sparkled open glove traces down your back before he slyly smiles. beads of sweat races down his forehead before the singer hums. “suguru. do ya think we can fuck her like this?”

“standing up?” the bassist murmurs, and they’re both grazing their hands all over your body. while gojo has you lifted up, your legs tightly wrap and lock around his waist like a vice before geto kisses the back of your neck, pitching his voice lower as he speaks to you. “what do you think? can you handle the two of us, pretty girl?” 

you whine against gojo’s neck, trembling from geto’s touch behind you. how gentle he was, leaning in to suck against the tenderness part of your collarbone. “yeah,” you nod, and gojo glanced down at you with a smug grin forming on his lips. “j-just hurry up. satoru should have been performing like an hour ago.”

“damn, that’s true. i kinda forgot about that,” he timidly chortles, and he raises you up in his buff arms just a bit. “oh well. heh, i mean you…you can explain it to kento for me, yeah? i know he’s my manager but fuck, he scares me. if he’s nosy just tell him i’m uh…i got athlete's foot.”

there was a long rightfully so pause and geto’s hands remained gripped against your waist. “idiot…” he mumbles. 

the moment gojo aligns himself, you intake a sharp breath — mentally preparing yourself because you were about to take not only him, but his best friend also….while standing. 

“hold on to ‘toru. i’m gonna have to stretch you just a little…” geto purrs against your ear.

you made candid eye contact with gojo and he flashes a sheepish grin before planting a kiss on the tip of your nose. 

“i stretched her already.” gojo shrugs. 

“you did a lousy fuckin’ job then.” geto snarls, and you moan, feeling the thickness of geto go right into you with simplicity.

needless to say, it was sloppy. 

your cunt squelched in utter enthusiasm as he eases his way inside of you. gojo rolls his eyes at geto’s remark, and you’re quite literally being double stuffed. they both were slow and precise with their movements and you’re just in awe, dumbfounded, stupid…

you’ve never felt so full.

both of them deep inside of you, churning up your insides at the same time. you don’t think you’ve ever been fucked like this.

not only were you being shared but doing everything while standing up—your arms pathetically wrapped around gojo’s neck, and it’s the perfect position to stare right into the pop star's eyes. 

he returns the gaze, and he grows flustered, lip quivering, ears twitching, eyebrows contorting. he was trying just as much as you to not be so loud, so vocal. yet a moan slips out, and gojo’s moans never fail to be so slutty. 

“think i can see why he’s so obsessed with you,” geto grunts, maintaining a firm grip against your hips. he’s taking you from behind with gojo occupied towards the front, each pretty glacé coated whimper that ran off past your lips grew shakier and shakier from the deep thrusts you were being given.

as you idly bounced against their dicks, you were again, stupid—brainless.

your mouth ends up partially opening as you’re moaning. your pussy gripped against each of them tightly. squeezing and clamping down against each of them to where you’re just so dizzy. 

geto’s thick and girth, meanwhile gojo’s long and lengthy…

your ears fet like they were about to pop from the sheer sudden humidity in the room the more you bobbed and jostled against them. biting your lip to conceal an incoming moan, your eyes briefly roll backward before you suddenly feel the plump mushroom-tip of gojo’s dick fully expand and reach there. 

“f-fuck, oh my g-godd,” you’d whine, rough sounds of your skin against theirs ricocheting amongst each other. such beefy bulky toned arms had you propped up in such an obscene way, you craved more. “…so deep.”

gojo leans in for a wet kiss and you kiss back, a plethora of whimpers and whines glissade right into his mouth - he swiftly swipes a tongue against yours, sloppy per usual before even he starts to moan. in such a way, you never failed to leave gojo all hot and bothered.

“you two are such sluts for each other, it’s cute..” 

as the bassist teases and pokes fun, you shudder, feeling geto press up against your ass… 

the stretch, the girth he had that made him thicker… it was mouthwateringly appetizing.

you found yourself practically drooling just from his dick, the way the curve of it hit that same repeated spots to make you grow dumber and dumber. you were starting to get so loopy from his best friend that you completely forgot gojo was in the picture for a quick second. 

geto being abutting against you, his body heat was entirely chambré—the fabric of his leather jacket, the cold frigid zippers skin against your skin and you lean back against his chest. despite all of this, gojo’s still managing to have you being fucked upright.  

your entrance was slick…damp, coated each of their cocks with your dampened arousal before your breathing starts to catch up with you. 

“s-shit, ‘m not gonna last.” gojo starts, and his body language changes a bit—you study his facial expressions, the way his lips contort into a perturbed pout. skin against skin, you radiated from their heat thoroughly before geto shakes his head with a sly scoff. 

“of course you’re not.” he snickers. 

“s-shut up, sugupoo,” he whines, hastily his head goes back. the popstar’s hair goes all over his face, long white strands occluding his view of vision and it's sexy. the way he’d become whiney out of nowhere, pressing his lips together in utter desperation. you had him a mess, whining again and again, regardless of trying to keep up a front. “she’s gonna milk me ‘n it’s all your fault..”

you throbbed from his words, and the popstar could barely keep his eyes open. he’s so sensitive, keeping you up with his arms while geto has you from the other end, geto sighs dramatically. “here he goes.”

“you both talk too much.” you mewl, clinging onto gojo’s neck. 

“no we don’t.” they both say in unison before giving each other a glare. 

geto scoffs whilst gojo pokes his lip out, focusing his attention back towards you. yet the minute gojo cums, his dick ends up slipping out of you and that’s when he becomes a stuttering mess. 

“s-shit,” he huffs, wrapping a hand around his base before repositioning it again. ropes of his cum start to seep out your cunt, geto watches and he’s speechless—you mewl, feeling geto run a thumb down your slit only to then smear gojo’s cum against your pussy. “so much to give you, even still.”

gojo starts whimpering. stretching such inches inside of you while geto pauses his movements. you felt warm, not to mention exceedingly full. 

you were stuffed, to the utmost limit…

the two took turns with you. you were treated like a rag doll if one was to be honest. it was as if stamina didn’t exist for them. positions after positions, there’d be a point where geto’s sucking against your nipples while gojo’s slamming his hips into you with the sweetest whimpers dragging out from his pretty glossed lips.

albeit, you don’t expect geto to get whiney…

but he does.

you’d be riding him, he’s laid back against the bed with his legs openly spread and clenched. a sharp jawline points forward as he faces you forward. “fuckk, your hips are so..” he’d groan, his head goes back in desireable pleasure and you lean in to bombard the inner part of his neck with sweet kisses.

gojo’s behind you, and he finds himself getting jealous and a tad bit clingy. you moan, feeling him lick a long stripe up your neck, wanting you to pay more attention to him and not his dumb best friend.

geto’s so attractive from this perspective..

you decide to be a tease, planting a kiss near the corner of his mouth—your lips meeting his revealing dimples. “gripping me s-so good,” he groans, bringing a sharp smack to your ass for ‘encouragement.’

he craved the way you grinded against him, not too fast, not too quick…just right. your hips slid from front to back, swiveling all around him to where a whine rips from his throat. “damnnn, just like that. f-fuck me, fuck megirl...”

his voice deopped a single octave, and he even brought a hand up to his face to shield his pure embarrassment.

gojo snickers before he speaks, peppering kisses against your collarbone before peering at his best friend. “awww, look at sugupoo. all that talk ‘n he’s just as whiny as i was.”

“shut up.. fuckin’ shut…up,” he groans, his nostrils flare and you lean in to kiss geto, he kisses back, and this time it’s sloppy and less passionate. it’s rougher. the instant second his lips meet yours, a low moan from geto slips out.

he pants heavily against you, breaking away for a second to breath — his hands were pinching your waist, brushing against your tender skin before he exhales out a sigh.

geto’s hair, tied into a near ponytail had a few strands poking out, scattered all against his face. he groans, feeling your clit rub against him slowly and gradually.

perfectly aligned and lined up right, he shudders once he feels your hand roam against his body, sliding a finger down a scar near the right side of his chest. 

gojo, still being sat behind you as he impatiently watched, reaches between your legs and starts to play with your pussy. you whined, feeling him start to maneuver tiny circles against your already sensitive folds before geto pulls away to breath yet again. 

a pretty sheeny web of spit coats against your chin and his as you depart from one another. your lips, and his jaw tightens. “f-fuckkk, fuck me. fuck me like that, don’t s-stop.”

he found the way you mounted him in such a good angle, it makes him ten times harder. geto’s thick cock slams in and out of you to where he’s almost tasting how swollen he was. you ploddingly thrust your hips forward before geto pulls you into his chest suddenly. 

“suguruuu.” you’d whinge, feeling him squeeze the fat of your ass.  

“fuckk,” he raps, you could be milking me all the time instead of this—this wannabe justin bieber.”

“hey…” gojo narrows his eyes, and he catches you giggling at geto’s remark. geto peeks an eye to stare at gojo before a smile goes against his lips, soley before turning his attention back towards you.

once geto’s body relaxes, he feels the pressure rising up within him to the point of his incoming release. the fiery sensations of electricity went all through. such fiery sensations piercing, he’s bouncing his thigh in an attempt to deepen his strokes inside you to make you whine yourself. 

“damn, ‘s good. s-so fuckin’ good,” he swallows, grunting once you lean in to kiss the front part of his adam’s apple. “gonna flood your pussy, you want that? want me to make a fuckin’ mess of myself?”

“y-yeah.” you breathe, nodding in contentment. “suguru please.”

geto’s vision becomes a little blurry, he’s hazy and it feels so good…your cunt’s got him on a leash.

he fell in love with the way your hips rolled against him again and again, each spank he gives your ass makes him throb. the girth he had lunging inside of you, outstretching to where it prods against your g-spot. “f-fuck.” you’d sob, slumping your head against the bassist. 

once he eventually came, it was way more than gojo. more as in you’re stuffed fuller than you thought you could ever be. you pause, huffing and puffing as your ear laid flat against his bare chest. geto aches, heavily panting himself and sweat droplets raced down his v-line. 

“i think i won,” gojo frowns, breaking the two of you up—you were practically limp, geto’s cum dripping out of you. you moaned, trying to recollect your breath but failing. 

geto leans back, giving gojo a side eye before murmuring. “just shut up..”

“aw. poor sugu’s all d—”

gojo’s voice gets rudely interrupted by the annoying screech of your ringtone. the two of them stare at the blue light, and gojo picks it up with a curious expression. 

“ooh, phone call,” and he picks it up, bringing it up to his face and raises a brow. “huh. why’s uh..” and he turns it the opposite way, “why’s fushiguro toji calling you? and heh what’s with the dumb heart by his name. isn’t he my old producer?”

geto grumbles, still silently heaving with a hand rubbing against his abdomen. “yeah, that scum who tried to take parts of our salary from that one gig we did,” and then geto darts his eyes towards you with an unreadable expression “why is he calling you?”

your stomach quite literally drops. you sat on the plump bed laid flat on your tummy. momentarily stunned for a moment. alas, you had to say something… you sat up, the phone continuing to sing in the distance before uttering. 

“toji…he’s um…he’s kind of my boyfriend.”

yeah, you were fucked. 

[heavenbarnes]

have to write this because @evisnotok had some crazy good points in the notes | p1 p2 p3

the 141 know they can rely on your older bf!simon to come through with a fully stocked camera roll. whether they’re killing time in a safe house, back on base, or crowded around a sticky table at a pub.

their eyes are all on one thing.

that’d be you.

with your blessing, of course. simon had told you about johnny accidentally stumbling across his (not very well guarded) collection of intimate photos and he hadn’t missed the way your eyes had shifted and your thighs had tensed.

it’d been a change of minuscule proportions but simon had been watching you with well trained eyes- waiting for any telltale signs.

when he mentioned the way johnny had to adjust the front of his trousers, he could practically hear your mouth water.

when he took it so far as to tell you what johnny had said? you’d spent the rest of the evening humping simon’s leg like a bitch in heat as he laid out all the filthy things sergeant mactavish wanted to do to you.

so when the rest of the 141 caught on, found out about this little arrangement between simon and johnny- they wanted in. they’d seen the pretty little thing that simon kept at home and they wanted to see just how pretty you could get.

it started with the phone being passed around the group (simon had to overcome a few things before he’d let you get passed around the group) and it escalated into a group chat that was full to the fucking brim of your best moments.

videos of you crying simon’s name as you stuff yourself with your fingers.

photos of you with your back arched and your feet kicking.

videos of you being absolutely wrecked by simon the night he gets back from deployment.

photos of you with cum painting your cheeks and a big smile on your face.

they’re almost always for simon’s enjoyment but that last one- that was something different. unfamiliar sense of altruism filling his chest when he had you on your knees.

you’d been sucking his cock for the best part of an hour now, no complaints to be had. simon had put a pillow under your knees and his steady stream of praises had you keening into the hand that stroked your cheek.

“doin’ such a good job for me, sweet’art”

as you felt his balls tense up in your hand, where you’d been stroking them with your palm- you gave him one last long lick before you started tugging him off.

sitting back on your haunches, you stuck your tongue out in waiting when the hand that was around the back of your neck started to grip harder.

“gonna’ cum all over that pretty fuckin’ face”

you twisted your wrist, hand coming up over the leaky head of his cock before sliding it back down. spit flicked around as his foreskin moved beneath your grip, simon’s voice became gruntier than usual.

“you fuckin’ like that, huh? like it when i paint you like i fuckin’ own you?”

like? as if he didn’t already.

simon always got mouthy when he was nearing that peak and the minute the dams broke and he was shooting hot ropes of cum across your eagerly waiting face, his words were trailing off into broken moans.

you kept stroking him until his fingers had to pry you off him, hips beginning to jolt with sensitivity. but you didn’t move, sat still on your knees so simon could get a good look at you.

eyes following his movements, he reached across to pick up his cellphone before you heard the shutter sound a couple times (his phone is never silent, unless he’s on duty- at home it’s the loudest thing you’ve ever heard).

still holding his phone steady, simon reaches his thumb out to drag through some of his cum, before he presses it to your tongue and snaps another picture.

as he drags it away, he lifts his phone for a higher angle before you see his lip quirk up in amusement.

“that’s it, smile for the lads yeah?”

and the group chat never goes without, now whenever they see “ghost sent an attachment” their cocks chub up in almost pavlovian response.

the photos are filthy but their messages are filthier, the way they speak about you is enough to have your cheeks burning and your ears ringing.

“steamin’ jesus L.T you’re one lucky fucker”

“look at the state a’that, so fuckin’ pretty”

“so fuckin’ good at taking loads- got y’one well trained”

filthy enough to turn you inside out- your stomach fucking flipping with every word simon read to you.

one hand holding his phone, the other between your thighs, three thick fingers stuffed inside you. each new message he read, he’d flex his fingers against the spongy little spot that had your eyes rolling.

“can feel you squeezing my fuckin’ fingers, y’like the way they talk about you?”

your hands wrapped around his wrist, fingernails digging into the ink of his tattoos as he spurred you to the edge. leaning back against his chest, his phone was hovering right before your face and you could see those three little dots jumping as johnny typed a new message.

“almost there L.T can y’spare one more?”

you didn’t mean to moan out loud but the image of johnny stroking himself to you was nearly too much. head tipped back onto simon’s shoulder as your hips bucked into his hand, you felt his chuckle rumble against your spine.

long arm reaching up and the unmistakable sound of the shutter ringing around the room, you heard him type a quick reply before you opened your eyes.

debauched, the photo looked fucking debauched. spread out for him with your legs over his thick thighs and your hand practically forcing his fingers deeper into you.

you felt simon shift as he pressed a kiss to your heated cheek, thick cock pressing into the small of your back. he hummed as he slowly started to grind into you.

he knew it was all for show, that you just had this filthy little voyeuristic part of you that needed to be satiated by the praise of these men. he knew that at the end of it all-

“you’re all mine, aren’t ya?”

he just had to be sure, he was only man after all.

not a thought behind your eyes or a doubt in your mind, you nodded furiously as you melted further into his touch.

“only yours, si”

[babygirl-riley]

i need jealous / possessive / protective ghost plssss :)

Only Mine

Simon watches as a new recruit takes interest in you. Even though you both are married (secretly of course) He still needs to let you know who you belong to.

A/N: omg we LOVE possessive jealous Simon. 🤭 Might write one that doesn’t have smut but listennnn it’s a good.

“Are you really here to cast me off? Or maybe just to turn me on.”

Warnings: jealous!simon, husband!simon, wife!reader, smut, rough sex, semi-public sex, just a little choking, basically a quickie, fluff, squint for the angst, swearing

simon x reader guide

simon x reader smut list

God the way your body started to ache in such a numbing good way, as you gripped the bars of Simon’s bed. You didn’t really expect your day to turn out like this. Simon, your secret husband, dragged you to his room without any explanation. Demanding your pants down and pussy out.

Confused yet totally turned on you did what he said. Now it’s just growls and slapping of skin. You are trying to recall the day, what could have possessed the all might Lieutenant Riley to be so riled up.

The last thing you were doing was teaching a recruit how to clean his gun properly. Nice kid, young possibly just joined that’s how young he looked. He made stupid snide jokes to get you laughing but it didn’t peak your interest. You are used to having all the young recruits flirt with you and stare. Until one day they make sure not to even cross paths with you.

Little did you know Simon fucking Riley would be watching from afar. Narrowing in on any recruit who decided to play that game. Make sure he scratches their name down so he could give them heavy drills. Watching them get more and more tired until the end to come up and whisper to them. “Get near my Sargent again and this will be the easiest thing ya ever have to do.”

However there was one time you knew that he did it to one recruit. You were hounding the little asshole about how he almost killed his group during a mission. Simon was to be in the same room due to having a back up if things got out of hand. Simon not once stepped in as voices got raised.

The recruit scoffed as he was being told that he is off the next assignment. Due to not only his previous act but also how the respect was not there for you. The recruit turned to Simon. “Control your bitch.”

Before you could even say anything Simon stood up. “Drills now.” He said lowly as he walked up to him. The recruit didn’t move for a moment staring at Simon dead in the eye. Simon leaned to his face. “Ya do not get to call your Sargent that. Now go before I make ya.”

The recruit looked over at you, which you had your arms folded. “That was an order private.” You said as he stormed out.

Simon had you come and watch and give the orders out to him. Basically like whipping a wild horse to become domesticated. In which this case the private did, he was one of your favorites to have in the field. Made sure everyone listened close and trusted you with his life.

Simon later on that day made sure that you were never going to be talked to like that again. That the next muppet that does would be thrown against the wall, you did have to remind him that your marriage is hidden. Which meant to be careful when to start throwing people around. However you loved the fact that he was protective like that. Making sure you were respected. Cared for.

Even when it was outside of the base, when the team is off on leave. Only Price truly knew that you both are married. So whenever you went on leave Simon went on leave and vise versa. When one of your little leaves you and Simon went to a bar, have some drinks and go home. When Simon went to the bathroom another man came up to flirt with you.

No matter how hard you would give him the no time of day, he kept going. The man would causally try to touch your hand, even when showing him the small ring on your finger he would say, “I don’t see him here.”

You would just smile as Simon stood behind him. “Hello babe.” You would say. At first the man had a smirk ready to face whatever man he was going to face, to only frown realizing that Simon was much larger in size.

Simon glared down at him his mask only showing his eyes. The eyes of warning towards the man. “Betta get going mate. She is here with me. And me only.”

The man scoffed and rolled his eyes as he left. Simon taking his space, you rubbed his back and whispered to him of how you were his. And how he was yours. Possessive was always on Simon, you loved it. You made sure that he felt the same, you even both agreed that you both had that. Wrong look from anyone Simon would give the death glare. Smile at you. Dead to him. Even look at you wrong. Gone.

You seen everything when he got that way. Him saying something to giving them his death looks…This however. Was something you haven’t seen. Simon’s cocked dragged against your walls at such a high speed that you didn’t know what to do. Your mouth dripping with salvia as you gasped and whined as he hit the spot over and over, releasing your second orgasm. “Havin’ him near ya like that,” Simon growled as he reached for your neck, pulling you up to his chest. “You laughing at his jokes, fuck, you think I wouldn’t see that.”

It finally hit you once he said those words. “Si,” You whimpered as you felt his hand squeeze your neck. “Fuck, you know I only belong to you.” You knew that is what he needed to hear, to let him know that you belong only to him.

Simon chuckled. “Is that so,” He questioned snapping his hips harder into you, slowing his pace as he placed his lips next to your ear. “I want you to scream my name as I fuck my cum so deep in ya, that no fucking man in this base will get near you.”

You moaned as he bite your ear. “Show me and the rest of this fuckin’ base who you belong to.”

He pushed you back down pinning your chest to the bed as he slammed his cock into you once more. You screamed as you clenched around his cock feeling the knot start to form. Simon went back to his brutal pace, tears brimmed your eyes as it felt so good yet the overstimulating was becoming too much. You wanted more as he drove harder and harder. You moaned loudly as he started to grip your hips.

“Fuck Simon.” You mumbled looking behind your shoulder. He still had basically everything on, he tore your clothes off once you laid down on this bed.

“Louder.” He demanded combing through your hair. Not stopping his pace.

The noises that filled his room should be illegal. The tiny bed that squeaked, as the metal bar hitting the wall, skin to skin slapping against one another, the wet sound that came from his cock and your pussy, and the moaning god the moaning.

“Simon.” You said louder a whine coming out. Panting started to become faster. “It feels so fucking good!”

He gripped your hair. “Louder!” Simon growled.

Your orgasm was right there and you knew he was right there too, his hips stuttering as he panted. Your body shook as Simon’s fingers went underneath you to play with you clit. “Yesyesyesyesyesyss! Simon! Oh god!” You yelled as your orgasm hit you hard enough to see stars.

You could feel your cum lathering his cock as he growled lowly. “That’s it doll, let them hear you. You belong to me only. fucking. me.” He grunted as his cum filled your hole.

You collapsed against the mattress as Simon moaned as he leaned into you more. Shoving his cock further up into you. It was quiet for a moment, the sound of your breaths steaming. Simon sighed kissing your back, rubbing your sides. He noticed that he gripped your hips hard enough that he knew it would leave marks. It wasn’t his first time, you told him you loved when he would do it occasionally.

You sighed pushing yourself more into him. “You know that I only belong to you. That no one else can have me.” You whispered, moaning with content.

Simon nodded as he kissed the back of your neck. “I know, just gets me riled up to see men touching you. Especially when you laugh at their jokes.”

You chuckled slowly getting up having him take his cock out. You both hissed for a moment before you laid on your back. He hovered over you as you grabbed his cheeks. “Your jokes are the only ones that are truly funny.”

“Including the goldfish in the tanks?” He asked smirking, knowing damn well you hated that one.

You rolled your eyes. “Yes even that one.” You both stare at each for a moment. You inhaled deeply. “You should get jealous more often, it looks good on you Lieutenant.”

Simon scoffed getting up before pulling his pants and boxers on. “Shut it,” You giggled as he handed you your clothes. “Get dressed I have a private to run drills, you should watch.”

Oh, now how you were going to get him more jealous. You just loved the way your body ached for more than what you just got.

[starsofang]

Change of Heart

hitman!ghost x f!reader / part 3

previous part

tw: alcohol use, brief mentions of suicide, soft ghost <3

When life has completely and utterly failed you, you hire a hitman to take you out, too afraid to do it yourself. Instead of killing you like you had planned, he strikes up a deal with you, and you're too stubborn to bail out.

Day six.

You made it another day in your deal with Ghost, and it was supposed to feel good. The entire point was to prove to him and yourself that you didn’t want to die, that you could figure out the demons in your head and summon them out, but it was proving to be a much more difficult task than you thought.

Waking up on the morning of your sixth day didn’t feel all that good like you thought it would. Ghost hadn’t returned to your apartment since he stayed to see you make it to day five, and you weren’t sure when he was coming back.

It wasn’t clear why you were taking a liking to his company. Maybe you were lonely, maybe you just needed a friend, and he happened to be there in the right place at the right time.

The thought of it scared you, though. You hadn’t let anybody into your life since your ex-boyfriend, and you always preferred it that way – keeping a distance meant you wouldn’t get hurt again, and certainly, this masked man would eventually do the same thing to you if he decided to stick around.

You wanted to call the deal off. Not because you still wanted him to kill you, not because you wanted your life to end, but because you didn’t want to grow attached, just for you to not have a change of heart in the end.

It would be fucked up of you if you allowed a bond to form between you and Ghost, only to take it away through an act of death after the deal was up. That would just be plain selfish.

So, you tried distracting yourself instead.

It was a nice day today, and the weather, albeit chilly with that slight bite of cold wind, was an almost perfect excuse to take a night off and have fun by yourself in a bar. Surely, that doesn’t count as you going against Ghost’s deal of self-healing bullshit if it’s just for fun, right?

That’s exactly what led you to appear at a local bar downtown. Ironically, it was right down the street from the coffee shop where you first met Simon in the meeting to discuss your self-proclaimed suicide mission. You passed it on your walk to the bar, and a slight feeling of guilt tugged at your heartstrings as your eyes drifted to it, even as it was already behind you.

Shaking the guilt away, you continued on your journey along the sidewalk. There was no reason to feel guilty. You owed nothing to Ghost, and you were still technically keeping up your end of the bargain. A harmless night of fun was something you needed to shoo away those demons, at least that’s what you told yourself.

The bar wasn’t packed, which you didn’t mind. After all, it was only a Thursday night and most people had work the next morning. Lucky for you, that meant the bar wouldn’t take a long time for your drink orders, so you wasted no time in diving in, conversing with the bartender as the night went on.

About four drinks in, you could feel the weight of the alcohol lay heavy on your mind. It made things a bit hazy, like a brewing fog was beginning to loom over you. Your arms rested comfortably on the bar counter, head slightly bowed down as you attempted to keep yourself upright. Being an ex-alcoholic (you absolutely were not an ex, you just loved to float down the river of denial), alcohol was unpredictable in the way it affected your body.

Sometimes, it forced you to loosen up and have fun.

Other times, it made the weight of your issues much heavier.

Right now, it was an awkward middle, like your body was torn between wanting to enjoy this moment of serene relaxation, and wanting to plop right into bed and sleep your worries away, pretending they never existed in the first place.

The sound of somebody plunking themselves down on the stool next to you forced your head to lift, and when you came in sight of that damned mask, you wanted to stand up and let your legs lead you right to the bar’s exit.

Ghost sat unbothered, ordered himself a bourbon from the kind bartender. She flashed him a polite smile, throwing me a slight glance, and when you gave her a shrug, she left the two of you alone after retrieving Ghost’s drink.

“You a stalker now or something?” you grumbled in feigned annoyance, letting your head loll back down on the counter with a huff.

Ghost’s hand wrapped around the glass of bourbon while the other lifted his mask enough to reveal his mouth. You noticed instantly that he wasn’t wearing his gloves, and you stared at the littered scars on his hands as well as the veins that ran up from his knuckles and beneath the cuff of his hoodie sleeve.

Swallowing, you forced yourself to look away from them, opting on his eyes.

“Somethin’ like that,” he hummed, tipping the glass to his mouth to take a sip of the bitter alcohol. You wrinkled your nose up at it, not quite fond of dark liquor (though, who were you to be picky, seeing your collection of scattered bottles that consumed your home?).

“‘M not gonna kill myself, y’know,” you slurred out in defense, rolling your head so your cheek rested flat on the counter as you stared at him with what you hoped was perceived as disapproval.

“I know, love. Wouldn’t hire me if you were.”

Touche.

Frowning to yourself, you observed the way his lips parted to allow more of the murky liquor to pour into his mouth and down his throat, your eyes dropping to see his throat bob as he swallowed. The small scar on his lips caught your eye, and you couldn’t help but stare at it for a moment more, taking in the slight curve of it over his top lip, the scar tissue white in contrast to the light pinkess of his mouth.

“Why are you here?” you managed to ask, having to practically pry your eyes away from him.

The alcohol must’ve been getting to your brain too much, because you had the brief thought that he looked pretty. Gosh, half of his face was still covered by the mask, what was wrong with you?

“Went by your place. Saw you weren’t there.”

“You mean broke into my place,” you corrected, and you swore you nearly saw stars from the way his lip curled up in amusement.

“Mm. Maybe that,” he agreed with a careless shrug.

He leaned one of his arms on the counter, tilting his head in your direction. You could feel his eyes taking you in, studying you as always, as if you were a book he was analyzing every time he saw you. They stare at your cheeks, flushed from the alcohol. Your hair, which was lazily falling in your face from where your head lay. Your mouth, which was pulled into a mix of a frown and a pout that you clearly had no intentions of wiping off.

“Why are you here?” He repeated the question back to you, and you gave him the same shrug he had given you.

“I can’t have fun?”

“This fun to you?”

“...No.”

He chuckled out a laugh that rumbled you to the core, and you blinked stupidly at him as he downed the rest of the bourbon.

“Thought so, sweetheart. It’s a bit dingy in here, innit?”

You shifted your eyes to take in the bar, and sad to say, he was right. The bar itself wasn’t all that great, though you didn’t necessarily come because it was lavish. It was pretty old and outdated, with wooden counters, old floors, and stools that creaked under every movement. But hey, they had a pool table and a dart board, so it wasn’t all that bad.

“Maybe just a bit,” you sighed out, and he smiled at you.

“Right. So why are you here?” He asked again, and you stared at him for a moment before sighing again.

“Figuring myself out like you wanted me to,” you offered, and he raised an unimpressed eyebrow under the balaclava.

“Figurin’ yourself out with half a dozen vodka cranberries isn’t somethin’ I see as helpful. Weird choice in drink, by the way.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but promptly shut it, because damn it, vodka cranberries really weren’t all that good.

His fingers tapped mindlessly along the empty glass in front of him, and you found your gaze once again drifting to take in the rough pads of his fingers and healed cuts on the back of his hand. For a moment, a very, very brief moment, you wished you could reach out and take hold of it, just to feel what it was like to hold somebody else’s hand again.

It had been a long time since you’d had any sort of touch, both innocent and intimate, and your ex-boyfriend certainly wasn’t the type of man to hold your hand like delicate glass and place kisses along the back of it.

Ghost let out a long sigh through his nose as he took note of your mental absence. “That pretty head of yours is always runnin’ around.”

Pretty head. He always said that, and now, it caused a weird clench in your chest.

“You’re pretty,” you blurted out drunkenly, and when Ghost stared at you in silence, you prayed that the floor would open up and swallow you whole. Never in your life had something so embarrassing happened, and you weren’t even sure why you said that.

You’d met Ghost a total of three times, and it wasn’t under normal circumstances. Most people meet a man on dating apps or at a damn park where they accidentally bump into one another and have a moment of love at first sight. You met Ghost off of the fucking dark web.

“You’re pretty too, sweetheart.” He chuckled in amusement, seemingly unbothered by your sudden display of admiration, and you felt your cheeks warm.

You aggressively turned your head away from him, plopping your other cheek on the counter so you wouldn’t have to look at him. He made no move to stop you, which you were thankful for.

“Think it’s ‘bout time you start goin’ home and get yourself ready for day seven, yeah?”

Ghost’s voice sent a buzz through your already fuzzy body, and instead of protesting, you found yourself nodding despite him being unable to see your face.

Yeah, home sounded good. Your bed sounded good. Sleeping this shame off sounded good.

“Okay,” you agreed quietly, and when you felt a hand lightly rest on your shoulder, you picked your head up to look at him.

His mask was back over his mouth, but his eyes crinkled in a familiar smile as he gestured his head to the bar door.

Oh. He wanted to walk you.

You stood on legs of jelly, lightly swaying as you gained your balance. His hand reached out to grab hold of your elbow, and when you met his soft gaze, you felt small underneath it. Tall was what he was, towering over you, but instead of feeling intimidated like you did in your first meeting, you felt a wave of security.

Ghost had somehow knew you would be here, drinking away your sorrows, and he showed up with no judgment. Now he was offering to walk you to your apartment, even though he barely knew you.

Were hitmen always this sweet? Or was it just Ghost?

You let your mind run astray as he gently guided you out of the bar and on the sidewalk of downtown, keeping a light grip on you the entire way. No words were said, but none needed to be. The silence was comforting, and it allowed you your moment of serenity while you processed just how much this man was doing for you on his own free whim.

You expected Ghost to simply drop you off at your door and leave you to go inside, but when he fumbled with the doorknob and led you into your home, you realized he wasn’t that kind of asshole and he wanted to make sure you made it to bed instead of a heap on the floor.

His hand remained on your elbow as he took you to your room. The sight of your bed was one that could’ve brought you to tears, and you happily crawled into it, curling up in a ball the moment your head hit the pillow.

Ghost stood by your bedside as he waited for you to get comfortable, before stepping out of the room. At first, you thought he left you without saying goodbye.

Your mind plagued you in those futile seconds. Was he mad at you? Did you disappoint him by going out and drinking again?

Then you heard the tell tale signs of him rummaging around in cabinets, and you could only guess he was in the kitchen. You continued to lay there patiently while he proceeded with whatever task he busied himself with, eyes staring into the darkness that filled the room.

When he returned, he was holding a glass of water, which he set carefully on the nightstand near your head.

You didn’t understand. Nobody had ever shown you such kindness before. Life had only ever given you the hands of people who would use you up until you were wrung dry. People always expected things in return, and your fear was making you wonder if that was what Ghost was expecting.

To make things worse, you practically invited that idea into his head by saying he was pretty.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. It came out in a tone that revealed your hidden uncertainty, and he instantly took note of it from the way his eyes softened beneath the fabric of his mask.

“You’re drunk. Not goin’ to just leave you there to dehydrate.”

“No.” You shook your head, frowning up at him. “I mean, why are you doing any of this? The deal, helping me, watching me, I– I don’t understand. I can’t give you what you want.”

“And what is it that I want, sweetheart?” he asked you, crouching down by your bedside so he could be eye level with you. You wanted to look away, you should’ve looked away, but you had never seen such gentle eyes before.

“I… I don’t know. Sex? More money? Isn’t this all some sort of trick?”

“Sex? A trick?” His tone was slightly offended, perhaps even hurt, and you instantly wanted to take your words back. “No, sweetheart, that’s not why I’m doin’ any of this. I’m doin’ this ‘cause I care.”

“But why?”

The air filled with silence as we competed in a staredown, and the sobering side of you was regretting every moment of this conversation. Stupid girl, always ruining good things, why can’t you ever keep your mouth shut–

“I see myself in you,” he confessed, and you shut your mind up. You didn’t respond, only continuing to stare at him, waiting for him to continue. “You’re hurtin’. I can see that. Life’s treated you real bad, hasn’t it?”

His words felt both like salt being poured into your open wounds, while simultaneously placing a bandaid over them with loving hands.

“You’re the only person who’s ever tried to hire me to kill themselves. Couldn’t just leave you high ‘n dry like that, not when you’re hurtin’ that bad. I don’t want to kill you, sweetheart.”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“But… you will, if I end up deciding that’s what I want, right?” You weren’t sure if you were convincing yourself or convincing him.

Ghost stared at you, eyes flickering over your face that was dimly lit up from the stray rays of moonlight peeking in through your sliding door of your balcony. Your eyes were slightly glossed over from both the alcohol and unshed tears that threatened to spill, and he wanted nothing more than to wipe them away, to encourage you to let them fall.

“Don’t know if I have the willpower to do that to you anymore, sweetheart.”

He stood up from where he was crouched beside your bed, and your eyes followed, staying locked on his.For a pause in time, the two of you said nothing, and the room filled with a deafening silence that made it hard to breathe.

It was broken when he carefully lifted his hand, reaching to your face to brush a stray hair that was hanging over your eyes. The rough pad of his finger lingered, tracing along your eyebrow and tracing out the feature before promptly pulling back.

“Get some rest,” he said, voice soft and quiet, but still with the tinges of gravelly undertone that made it sound like a sweet lullaby.

Your nod was confirmation for him to leave, and as he stepped out of your bedroom, you called out to him.

“Thank you for bringing me home, Ghost,” you thanked with a grateful smile.

He looked at you for a moment before smiling himself, evident in the way his eyes wrinkled.

“Call me Simon, love.”

[girlboypersonthingy]

Hiiii I wanted to request hazbin boys x injured male reader? Reader gets into a scuffle, gets roughed up quite a bit and comes home not looking too well (I wanna see em fuss over the reader lol)

Mmph, yes yes, I love boys fussing over their injured darling. Too fuckin cute! I have so many great requests for Hazbin and Helluva, I’m so excited 🫨 thanks for the request and enjoy anon 💟

Notes: gn!reader bc anyone can get into a scuffle so why not, mostly fluff with a sprinkle of angst

TW: blood, bruises, fighting, cussing, of course it’s suggestive during Angel’s part 😉

Includes Lucifer, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Vox and Alastor

Hazbin boys x reader- Bruises 🖤

You’re not sure who roughed you up, you barely got a look at the dudes before you were laid out on the dirty sidewalk getting punched and trying to push one of the perpetrators off you. Whoever he was, he was strong and brutal and must’ve really had a problem with you because damn, you were fucked up. Not that you couldn’t hold your own, but there was more than one of them and they really caught you off guard. You had suffered several blows to the face and a few kicks to the stomach and back. Seemed like the group showed just a bit of mercy tho- they could’ve broken your legs or straight up killed you. Luckily, you limped away with only minor injuries but a huge blow to your psyche. While it could’ve been worse, it was horrific and traumatizing regardless.

It’s hard trying to stay tough and take care of yourself because you’re scared, feeling like you’ll have to look over your shoulder from now on when you’re out on the streets. It was also a bit embarrassing considering Husk and Angel offered to tag along with you to keep you safe but your dumb ass insisted you were fine alone.

It was late now, around the time everyone went to bed at the hotel so you were expecting to silently creep inside, hobble to your room and take care of yourself in secret. And if anyone asked about the marks or bruises the next day, you’d just blame it on a wild night of partying. To your surprise, as you walk in the door the entirety of the hotel’s staff and residents were sitting on the floor and couches in the front room, drinking and talking by the fireplace. Of course, Charlie had everyone doing some bonding bullshit late at night. The sound of the door clicking open has everyone’s eyes looking towards you now. “Ah, shit…” Leaves your swollen lips as the crowd gasps and one by one, they all stand and approach your damaged figure. Finally, the one person you really didn’t want to see you like this comes rushing forward to get a good look at you.

Lucifer 🍎

“Oh, Satan! (Y/N), are you okay? What happened? Ohhh, my poor angel!”

Proceeds to fuss and worry over you while wearing the saddest expression :,( his poor bb

Might actually cry a little…just hurts him to see his darling all banged up.

It’s not just the physical pain he senses, it’s the emotional pain you feel too- the fear and the trauma and the stress of it all

His hands just hover all around the most damaged parts of you- fingers almost touching your eye which was now swollen shut, his thumb ghosting over your busted bottom lip

Whisks you away to his room and runs you a bath. Gets you all clean and is probably still whining and crying over you as he watches the bath water turn red with all the blood washing off you and gets you ready for bed.

He’s an emotional man, okay?

He also feels extremely guilty for not being there to protect you. Even if you bluntly told him you don’t need his protection, he feels like it’s still his fault at least a little bit.

Miiiiiiight start a silly little argument over you never leaving the hotel or his side ever again lol

“I just want to protect you, my love. Please! Stop being stubborn.”

He’ll really really baby you tho.

Like even if your legs are working fine, NOPE! Don’t move an inch. Luci will carry you anywhere you desire.

“Lucifer, I just have a black eye and some scrapes. I can walk just fine, babe.”

And he’ll just ignore you and continue to coddle you and do everything for you

For sure this man peppers very gentle, very soft and slow kisses on your tender face once you’re cleaned up and finally resting in his bed

And he for sure cries again in the morning when he wakes up and your face looks even worse

Probably even panics a bit like-

“IM TAKING YOU TO A HOSPITAL OH MY SATAN!!! MY POOR BABY WWAAAA!”

“It’s just some bruises! Luci, they always look worse before they look better, I’m fine.”

Just calm him down with some kisses and words of love

Angel Dust 🕸️

“Holy shit! What happened, babe? Oh no…this is bad. This is sooo bad! This is why we wanted to go with ya.”

Also gets very dramatic and concerned, looks so sad over your battle wounds

But of course he’s a flirt even under tough circumstances and can make a dirty joke even in the most dire situations

He’d definitely tell you you look hot asf and that you’re soooo brave~

Tries to lighten the mood a bit

“(Y/N), I wanna be the only one who gets to rough you up.” *pouts but also winks at you*

Angel has had his fair share of beatings courtesy of Valentino so he’s very good at first aid and knows tons of tricks to help with bruising, cuts, scrapes, preventing scars, relieving the pain.

He’s great at the clean up part but even better at the comfort part

Brings out all six arms to wrap you up in while you lay in his bed, cuddling up to you while offering soft kisses to the parts of you that aren’t so sore.

Angel is always down to fuck so if you’re feeling up to it, he’ll offer you some great sexual healing while being oh so careful of all your wounds and all the painful spots.

Will let you take control too, he hopes it’ll make you feel better and maybe return some of the confidence you lost from this scuffle.

He can spot a bruised ego from a mile away and he’ll do anything to get you feeling happy and secure again.

Also argues with you about never letting you go anywhere alone ever again lol he just loves you too much. If you’re gonna get jumped, he’s either gonna be there to help you out of it or he’s gonna be taking half the beating right next to you.

Reminds me of a song…

“I wanna walk with you, wherever you go to. I wanna hurt with you. Whatever you go through, I do too.” -sour switchblade by Elita

Yeah that’s Angel, just wants to be beside you no matter the circumstances

Husk 🃏

“Oh, you dummy! This is why we wanted to go with you. Oh, doll face. Who did this? You alright?”

Yeah, he’s mean sometimes so he’s gonna scold you for going out alone before the comforting starts.

Ultimately, he doesn’t pull you away to get you cleaned up or anything. Lets you decide what to do next, where to go. He just follows you and keeps a hand on you somewhere to let you know he’s here for you.

Will whip up any drink you ask for in hopes of it relieving the pain a bit

But he’s sneaky, he’s gonna ask you tons of questions about what happened, who did it, where you were, how many of them there was. Won’t give you your drink until you answer him.

Husk is plottin and schemin, wanting to get back at the assholes who did this to you. Hes thinking about all the cool, little weapons he has and what he can do with them to teach those jerks a lesson.

In the end tho, he does get more sentimental and soft spoken later while cuddled up to you in bed.

He’ll purr softly in your ear while letting his hands gently roam your body, tracing comforting circles all over your bruised skin

Will def wrap you up in his silky wings and then proceed to pour out his entire heart to you.

“I love you. I’m so glad you’re okay. You need to listen to me. I know better than you, I’ve been down here a long time. You have to be more careful. I dunno what I’d do if I lost ya, doll. You gotta stick with me, I’ll always protect ya.”

Once you fall asleep, he wanders out to the lobby to find Angel at the bar and there they talk about teaming up to get revenge on the assholes who dared to touch Husk’s little babe

The next morning, of course they’re still talking about it. You’ll have to tell these idiots to stop and just let it go bc omg they sound crazy rn they’re gonna make a mess if you let this continue

Buuuut if you kinda like them fussing over you this much, then by all means let them do their thing as you sit back and enjoy the attention

Ooooh, Husky is getting maadddd. Kinda cute when he lets a protective growl slip out while talking to Angel. Aww he loves you~

Sir Pentious 🐍

Immediate tears and full blown panic attack at the sight of your battered face.

“OH MY GOODNESSSSSS!!! My baby! My darling! Ohhhhhh, you poor thing, come here! I’ll take care of you.”

Doesn’t care that the entirety of the hotel residents are crowded around watching you two- Pentious holds you like a baby in his arms and carefully sinks to the ground with you, holding you so tight it actually kinda hurts due to all your bruises.

Cries for a while like this- goes back and forth between examining your bruises and cuts and bloody nose with his watery eyes to then burying his face in your neck as he weeps for you.

“Pen, I’m okay. Just a little banged up. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“I CAN’T HANDLE IT!!! You’re too pretty to be beaten up like thisssss. Aawwwww.” And he’s crying even harder now.

And this goes on for a while until you finally decide to get up and go to your room with him to get cleaned up.

Babies the absolute fuck out of you- brings you food in bed and tries to feed it to you, gets you in the bath and refuses to let you touch anything while insisting he do all the work for you, carries you everywhere.

It’s actually so nice tho- he washes your hair for you real slow and firm as he scrubs your scalp, very carefully washes the dirt and dry blood from your skin only to reveal more bruises he hadn’t seen before, carefully applies ointment to your bloody cuts and scrapes

Listen…this man is not gonna stop crying until you are 100% healed up. Even the next morning, you wake up beside him to see his face wet with tears as he sniffles.

At least you know he really truly deeply cares for you and loves you 💚

“Oh, it’s okay, babe. I’m felling so much better today, especially since I get to start my morning in bed with you.”

And now he decides he’s gonna keep you in bed all day and continue to baby and pamper you

Keeps his tail and most of his body wrapped around you loosely all day as you watch movies and relax. Cant stop staring at your face and focusing on each blue and black bruise you wear, eyeing every cut and scrape and the split skin on your lip.

You took a beating and he thinks it’s only fair that you and him stay in bed until you’re truly feeling well enough to resume your normal daily tasks.

Of course, he has to stay with you in case you need something! Can’t leave his injured partner alone, wouldn’t dream of it!

Vox 🖥️

(I know he’s not at the hotel, pretend you just walked into V Tower instead, k?)

REVENGE REVENGE REVENGE

“WHAT. THE. FUCK?! Who? Where? When? HOW FUCKING HOW DARE THEY-“

You’ll have to cut him off or he’ll go on an entire raging tangent about revenge and eventually short circuit lol

“Voxy, I’m okay. Don’t worry about it. I just wanna get clean and go to bed.”

He slowly cools off and begins to focus more on you and your injuries, asking if you’re okay or if there’s anything he can do. Now behind closed doors, his entire attitude changes.

He’s following you into every room, watching you with an expression of intense sadness and concern, wishing he could take all your pain and give it to himself instead. He’d suffer for you if it meant seeing you happy and healthy

Sits in the bathroom in silence but keeps you company while you wash up. He might ask if you need help but also wants to give you space and make sure you feel safe

Assists you in getting dressed while making it very romantic and being very attentive. Vox will so slowly slip your pajamas onto you while letting his claws ghost over all your bruises.

Will lean in and kiss your busted lips right as your head pops through the top of your shirt, followed by a smile and probably more kisses

Listen, most of these boys are gonna become way more over protective after this incident okay? Vox is most definitely not an exception

Insists that either He’s gonna be with you every where you go from now on or he’s gonna send security with you every where you go from now on.

And no matter who is with you when you’re out in the streets, his cameras will also be watching over you.

Oh yeah, and he goes back in the cam footage and has a perfect view of the whole incident. He watches it over a few times before ordering a hit on every sinner who dared to mess with his lover.

You’ll never have to worry or look over your shoulder or worry again 😘

Alastor 🩸

Doesn’t say much or even stay long to worry about you at first.

He’s more angry and bent on revenge than anything. He’s worried about you too but he knows you’re strong and can take care of yourself.

He slips off to do some exploring and investigating to find out who did this to you

Spends maybe an hour figuring it out and then promptly goes on a murder spree to take care of all those pesky sinners who dared to lay a finger on his beloved

Okay, now that that’s out of his system, he can come back and take care of you.

Isn’t as cuddly and romantic as the others but he still babies you and refuses to let you do anything for yourself.

“Now now, darling. Just relax. I’ll have you cleaned up and feeling better in no time.”

Bathes you, dresses you, tucks you into bed all while humming slow tunes to you

Doesn’t cuddle you but sits on the bed beside you and gives your head some gentle pets

“You won’t have to worry any longer, my dove. I took care of those degenerates and I’ll never let you wander the streets of hell alone ever again.”

Will place a gentle kiss on your throbbing head before leaving you to rest.

He’s serious tho, anywhere you go he goes too. You’re never leaving his sight again ❤️‍🩹

[gloomwitchwrites]

Break Up with Your Toxic Boyfriend (4 of 4)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: brief discussion of verbal, emotional, and physical injury canon-typical swearing, protective Simon, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

You might not be his anymore, but Ghost doesn't believe so. When you reach out to him, Ghost makes every excuse to come over, knowing that he can get you back if you just realize that you've always only been his.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // break up with your toxic boyfriend masterlist

Simon stands in the middle of your living room.

He is blood-drenched. Lead-hungry.

Full of venom. Full of fury.

His gaze sweeps over the busted television, the broken bookshelves, and the massive hole in the wall. There are bent picture frames empty of their glass. The photos within are either missing or partially torn. Whiskey stains the wall, running down from the impact point in little ribbons of amber.

Simon’s hands curl into fists.

This is so much fucking worse than what he originally thought. The living room doesn’t even scratch the surface. The kitchen is completely trashed, so is your bedroom where your boyfriend decided to shred up your clothes in anger.

Your… “boyfriend.”

That fucker should be grateful he isn’t here to face Simon. If he were, Simon would make him suffer. Make the prick eat his teeth.

On the phone, you were delirious, each word running together anger, frustration, and a fear that Simon felt in his gut. It sat heavy in his ears. That was enough for Simon to forget all responsibility and come to you.

Otherwise, Simon would not have come. You are not his woman anymore. That obligation to comfort doesn’t belong to him. It belongs to your boyfriend, but he’s the cause of all this suffering.

Why should you seek that bastard out?

No. Simon is glad you called him even though the circumstances turn his stomach and fill his veins with sludge.

He turns around and finds you lingering nearby. Your eyes are red with irritation, and your cheeks are puffy. Simon longs to pull you into his arms, yet hesitates only because you might push him away.

Simon unclenches his hands, flexing his fingers. “You’re breaking up with him.”

He’s not going to step around or sugar-coat this. Simon has always been blunt with his words, and this will be no different.

Your back straightens, hands clasped in front of you, fingers curled around the neckline of your sweater. “Simon—”

“It’s not a suggestion.” Simon lifts his arm, indicating the disaster of an apartment. “This is who he is. This will happen again.” He drops his arm.

Your chest expands. Deflates. “But—”

“Don’t defend him.”

“I’m not,” you snap.

Simon strides forward but you do not retreat. You stand tall, staring up into Simon’s face. Though your cheeks are stained with your tears, you’re beautiful.

“Next time it won’t be the wall or your television. It will be you he hurts.” Simon shakes his head. “And I won’t allow that.” You open your mouth as if to interrupt but Simon is having none of that. “I’ll kill him before that happens.”

“No. You won’t.”

“I will,” he growls. “I’ve never lied to you. Think I’m lying about this?”

Simon watches your throat bob as you swallow. He knows you understand. Fucking hell, he might be distant at times, even cold or blunt, but he never lies to you. Simon has always told you exactly what’s on his mind. Sometimes it has been to his detriment.

It is one of the reasons the two of you broke up. Simon didn’t want to end things. He respected your wishes, but even upon leaving, Simon still considered you his. The issue was with him and how he communicated with you about things. Emotionally, he was fucking distant. Not all the time, but enough that it seemed like he didn’t care.

That’s far from the truth, but Simon didn’t see any of it until you put it all out in front of him and decided to leave. Only then did he realize, and he did fucking everything to work on himself.

Fresh tears develop in the undersides of your eyelids. That’s it for him. It’s over.

Simon moves in, clasping the sides of your face with both hands. “Do you understand?” he asks softly, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

You don’t nod or even make a sound.

It’s not enough. Simon needs confirmation.

“He will escalate. He will get worse. You will be a target. Tell me you understand.”

There is a sniffle before you speak. “I know,” you whisper, voice cracking slightly.

Simon sighs and wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. You’re warm. A beacon of light in the disaster of a room. He leans in, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. He inhales and his lung fill with you.

With a final squeeze, Simon places a kiss to the crown of your head. He pulls back, but just enough to look at you. “I’ll clean up.”

“I can help.”

Simon shakes his head. “No. Sit. I want to do this for you.”

Your brow softens, arms falling away from him as you step back and glide to the sofa.

Simon tackles the bedroom first, shoving all your damaged clothes into trash bags. He organizes everything, making sure nothing is out of place, that it appears as it did before your boyfriend trashed it all. When he’s done, Simon returns to you, putting you to bed.

“Don’t leave,” you murmur, and Simon doesn’t. He curls up next to you, holds you until your breathing becomes shallow and slow.

Only then does Simon unfurl himself, slipping away. He doesn’t leave the flat. He shuts the bedroom door and gets to work, picking up the shattered glass, sending the television to the large rubbish bin. He orders you a new one and schedules it for delivery. He sweeps the floor and returns everything to your kitchen cabinets. Anything that is torn or broken gets trashed. Simon works through your clothes last. Sitting on the living room floor, Simon shifts through every one, trying to see if anything is salvageable. Most of it is, but there is plenty he has to toss.

Simon works until there is nothing left. It’s incredibly late, the time creeping close to the rising of the sun. Returning to the bedroom, Simon kicks off his shoes and removes the balaclava. You’ve seen his face countless times, and showing it now is normal.

When Simon slips into the bed beside you, and your body shifts, turning in his direction. He slides over into your reaching arms. The moment your bodies come together, you sigh with pleasure, and the noise goes straight to his groin.

But Simon won’t. He won’t push. This is not about him.

Sleep floods in, and it is your soft hands caressing his face that eventually wake him.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, voice harsh from dreaming.

“Morning, Simon,” you reply, resting your chin on his chest.

This is how mornings used to be. It sends Simon into memory and the days when he knew he was in love.

Was?

No.

Is. He still is. He still loves you utterly. That never stopped for him.

Your hands are not idle. After caressing his face, they move downward. The shift in your motions sends little shivers through his spine. They are visible and sharp. You inhale, and Simon begins to lean in. You mimic him but pause before your mouths can meet.

“Do you have to go?”

Simon captures one of your wrists with his hand, caressing the pulse point there with his thumb. “I can stay as long as you like.”

The smile that spreads across your face warms him everywhere. He wants to savor it forever. Your gaze drops from his eyes to his mouth. Then, your head shifts to glance at his chest and stomach. He might be wearing a shirt but Simon feels bare under your attention.

As your gaze returns to his face, Simon’s resolve melts away.

Fuck it. He’s doing this.

Grabbing the back of your neck, Simon closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours. There is no hesitation or resistance. You melt into him, and Simon has to hold back a moan. Every kiss is tender. Sweet. He’s missed this—missed you so fucking much it’s a raging inferno under his skin.

There is no part he leaves untouched. His hands roam everywhere, seeking closeness. Seeking your warmth.

“Simon,” you whimper against his mouth.

“I’m right here, love.”

You push upward, swinging your leg over his body, straddling him. Simon is momentarily stunned but you’re already returning to him, pressing you lips to his. He groans and grips your neck harder as your hips rolls against him.

“Simon,” you repeat, and his name on your lips is shifting him around, turning his insides out, revealing all his weaknesses.

His hands and your hands tug and pull. Moving clothing. Shoving bedding aside. When you start to sink down on him, Simon has to break the frantic kissing to breathe deep, to praise you in all the ways he knows how.

Your hands are solid against his chest. An anchor as you rock back and forth.

“Fuck,” he groans.

“Fuck,” he repeats, elongated the vowel as your pussy lightly squeezes him.

Above him, the air from your lungs releases from you in little sighs that creep into his ears and burrow in the folds of his brain. They are collected there. Remembered.

Using his grip on the back of your neck, Simon pulls you right back in, claiming your mouth. You open for him perfectly, your hips momentarily stalling as all your attention shifts to this one connection.

But Simon needs that movement. He craves it like the birds need the wind.

Wrapping his free arm around your waist, Simon flips you onto your back. There is no pause between the time Simon flips you and when he starts to thrust. It is instant. An impulse. A driving force that overcomes him.

Your fingers claw at his back, your legs hooking around the backs of his thighs, drawing him closer. If that is what you want, Simon will do it. Happily.

Pressing his forehead to yours, the two of you exchange breaths. The bed strikes the wall in repeated thuds, pleasure pooling in the base of Simon’s spine.

“Don’t—” You inhale. Exhale. “Stop.”

Growling, Simon presses his mouth to your neck, his pace increasing until his thrusting becomes an erratic, desperate thing. He hears you moaning, feels your pussy clenching down to keep him inside.

It’s too fucking much.

Simon’s own release roils up from the depths. His hips grind forward, creating a seal as he comes. His entire body shivers as one of your hands cradles his cheek. The touch is so soft he almost doesn’t recognize it at first.

But then you curl your fingers under his chin, guiding his face away from your neck to stare into your eyes. He starts to pull away, but your feet stay locked over the back of his legs, keeping him inside you.

Simon smirks.

He has you.

It might not be perfect or even solid, but he has his way in.

You haven’t said it, but you don’t need to.

You are his.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @kittytiddywinks @cinnabeanz @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @xxkay15xx @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie

[jamminvroomvroom]

4 with lando :)))

flashing lights - kanye west (respect the art not the artist!)

LN4 x reader

tysm for the request xoxo!! finally continuing my requests (sorry it took ages whoops) flipped my list and went from the bottom for this bc otherwise we were gonna have some repeats lol

images below from pinterest - i claim no ownership 🙃

warnings: none! some swearing, some fluff, lando being a funny little camera shy pr machine - but fr minors pls just dni with my work okay tysm!!!

lando was frantically pacing your apartment when you walked in, eyes wild, as if he hadn’t slept, and hair an absolute disheveled state. his usually sun-kissed skin seemed to get even paler when he heard the door shut behind you, coming to a halt in your kitchen and staring at you as though he’d seen a ghost.

“lando?” you questioned, confused as to, a) why he was here so early, and b) why he looked like he was about to confess that he had killed your entire bloodline.

“baby, i’m so sorry.” your blood ran cold. what had he done? he closed the space between you, tentatively taking your hands.

“lando… what’s going on?” you tilted your head, starting to sweat in your oversized leather jacket. you’d just been out running errands, picking up bits for the dinner you were supposed to be sharing with the mclaren driver, much later in the day.

“i didn’t think anyone had seen us but then i had my assistant, the entire pr department and my mother phoning me, and then max called and said that him and pietra wanted to see if we were okay, before i could call anyone else back which confused the fuck outta me, so i finally checked twitter and there it was and i just got in the car and came here but god, i’m so sorry.” lando finally exhaled, looking like he was about to pass out, with creases so deep on his forehead that you thought they’d stay there permanently.

“okay, lando? sweetheart? yeah, okay i’m gonna need a bit more info.” you over enunciated each word, stressing that you were still in the absolute dark about whatever was on the verge of sending him into cardiac arrest.

“there’s photos. of us. kissing.” he finally said, quietly, and after a good ten seconds of staring at you in utter fear.

“fucking hell, i thought something terrible had happened. jesus christ, lando.” you exhaled, eyes wide. he stared at you like you’d grown a second head, stepping forward to mockingly rest his hand against your forehead as if he was checking your temperature.

“are you… are you… okay?” lando asked, eyebrow quirked. he was shocked at how calm you were.

you’d both agreed to keep your relationship private, and over the last five months, that had gone swimmingly well. but some low quality photos taken, as you waited for some friends outside a restaurant in the outskirts of london, had fucking launched the cat out of the bag.

“how bad are the pictures? are we naked or something?” you scoffed at him and now lando was truly confused.

“no, but- but i thought we were gonna keep this quiet.” he murmured.

“i know, baby, but okay, it’s out. is that really so bad? it was bound to happen eventually.” you reasoned, and lando finally saw your point.

“i just want to protect you, from all of the lights and the flashing cameras. love you too much to lose you to those vultures.” lando dipped his forehead against yours as he spoke, eyes locked on yours. you couldn’t help but smile at him, the loveliest man you could have wished for.

“oh, my sweet, sweet boy,” you crooned, pecking his lips. “you know i love to show off.” he laughed at that, a low rumbling in his chest.

you pulled away, stepping around him and walking further into your apartment, dropping all of your stuff down in your kitchen.

“anyways, i already saw the pictures. we look hot.” you ignored his incredulous ‘what?’, waving him off. “now, come here and help me make dinner.”

[jujutsukatsuki]

Happy Halloween || Ghostface! K.B.

I know we still have a bit to halloween but i got inspired to finish this! This is part two to a old Ghostface bakugou fic i wrote a while ago. Read it here

This is a script i found, i did change a few things so its not word for word but you get the idea!

Sorry it took me nearly 2 years to do part 2 {TW: Knifeplay, stalking, blowjob, deepthroating, choking, humiliation, talks of murder and violence, making a sex tape, edging, rough sex, p in v, unprotected sex, fearplay, mask kink, oral (m and f), blood play)

It was Halloween night. The memories of Bakugou in his ghost face costume plagued your thoughts as you carved a pumpkin. He was suppose to be with you tonight but he got called to go patrol.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the way his knife grazed your skin or the cold material of his gloves on your cunt. The small cut he gave you on your collarbone still stung but it stung in such a good way.

With your horny thoughts filling your head, you barely noticed the presence behind you until it whispered in your ear.

“What are you doing?” You gasped and turned around, met with the same white screaming face that was stuck in your head. His maniacal laugh was slightly muffled from behind the mask.

“Did I scare you?” He cooed, the tip of his knife brushed your hair behind your ear. You could barely feel the cold metal graze your skin but the touch was enough to make you clench your thighs. The carving knife that was in your hand was held to his chest, if he stepped closer he’d impale himself. The sweet sound of his laugh rang through your ears. You knew who it was under the mask. You knew if it got to be too much, all you’d need to do is say your safe word.

“Come on princess. What are you gonna do with that? Put that silly thing away.” His leather glove caresses your cheek, the material is cold and smooth.

“What.. what do you want?” You question him. You can see the bright whites of his teeth from behind the mesh of the mask.

“What do I want? Let me think. Maybe I’ve come here to finally kill you. Carve my knife through your stomach like that pumpkin you’re working on and rip you from the inside out. Or maybe… I’ve come to fuck with your head some more. I haven’t decided yet.”

He smirks as he watches your breathing hitch as you struggle to form words. Your thighs are clenching together, the material of your school girl costume caught between them. It’s just enough pressure to give you a tiny bit of relief.

“You’re so cute when you’re scared.” He hummed before he steps back to take in your costume. The noise he makes is one of approval before he takes his knife and cuts off the top two buttons of the white shirt you’re wearing. It exposes your cleavage.

“Leave me alone!” You huff and hold your shirt together.

“Leave me alone!” He mocks back to you before wrapping a hand tight around your neck, forcing you to be pinned between him and the counter. He grits his teeth and snarls, cutting away the rest of your shirt.

“That really what you want? Huh?! You sure you don’t just want my cock stuffed inside your holes until you’re full of my cum?!” A few tears slid down your cheeks as the tight feeling in your stomach feels even tighter.

“Go on, sweets. Answer me.” You look away from the hollow eyes of the mask.

“Didn’t think so.” He scoffs and squeezes his hand around your throat even more.

You look towards your phone that’s lighting up with a text from someone.

“That’s cute, you’ve got a date? Not on my watch.” He scoffs once more as he grabs your phone.

“You know, doll, I’m hurt that you’d wanna be with anyone else on such a scary night, especially after I made you feel so good the last time. You should apologize.” He fakes hurt as he looks to you again, his free hand pressed to his chest. It allows you to see the knife held between his fingers.

“Come on. ‘I’m sorry, Mr. Ghostface! I don’t know what I’m doing with that loser when only you can touch me!’” His voice goes high as he mocks you and what you should say. You look away as his exact words fall from your lips. Cheeks warm with embarrassment.

“Why don’t you get down on your knees for me, hm?” He licks his lips as you nod and get on your knees. You stare up at the white mask, you swallow thickly before glancing to the knife in his hand once again.

"Keep your eyes on me." His voice is gruff as he talks, you gasp as he slaps you and forces your eyes up to where his would be, he moves the cloak and lets you see the silver of the metal from his belt. "little upgrade from last year Doll. Easier access." You barely process what he says as he undoes the belt with one hand, his pants coming down slowly after. No words come to your mind as your eyes drift from the bulge in his grey boxers to him.

"You want it?" He growls and forces your head into him, you let out another gasp as you feel the bulge against your lips. He feels how you open your mouth and start to lick along his length, he hisses at the little bit of friction from his boxers rubbing against his skin.

"What do you want? I wanna hear it." He yanks your head back by your hair once again.

"I want your cock.. MIster Ghostface.. i want it please.." You beg, barley recognizing your own voice that's thick with lust. You feel like a dumb slut but you don't care. Your goal is to get fucked tonight.

"I knew you would. You like when I pull your hair like that?" You nod as he pulls his boxers down, hardened cock springing out. He pushes your head towards it and you open your mouth, tongue hanging out.

"That’s it." He groans and slides into your mouth, hissing at how warm and wet it was around his length. He thrusts in and out a few times as he lets his head roll back, you can't see it but you know his eyes are squeezed tight together. He pulls out and slaps his cock against your tongue. The taste of his precum is warm and salty.

"Stroke it." He moves his hands away, keeping one tangled in the hair at the back of your head, the tingling from your scalp travels to your pussy, at least you feel like it does.

"You’re mine, got it? And I’ll do with you whatever I please. I catch you with anyone else and… well you know what happens, dollface." He grunts as you suck on the tip, another hiss through his teeth.

"There you go, suck that dick like a good little slut."

His voice gets low as you suck on his cock, your head bobbing back and forth quickly, stroking what you couldn't fit in your throat.

"Look at you go. Taking it like a champ. I’m sure you won’t mind if I just-" He groans as he shoves his cock down your throat, your nose is pressed to the fabric of his black shirt, you can smell his cologne and the sutt from his quirk, just to ground you a little and remind you that it is the love of your life behind the mask.

"Aww, you tearing up? But you like being choked." You can hear the smirk as the tears start to run down your cheeks, he listens to your gagging noises a few more times but he finally lets you pull back. Gasping and sputtering, spit runs down your chin and soaks into your skin.

"Please fuck me mister ghostface." Your voice is hoarse as you speak, he chuckles from behind the mask as he yanks you up, the tip of the knife cutting the middle of your bra. You yelp as the tip gently cuts you, pretty red blood bubbling up.

"Want me to do it again? Who am I kidding, of course you do, cause you’re a slut." He smirks before he goes to a bag he left on the floor and pulls out a camera. You watch as he sets it up, not daring to move from the spot he put you in.

"We’re gonna make our own little movie." He hums and makes sure his angle is perfect to see the spot on the couch.

"I’m gonna set my camera right there and turn it on." The beep of the camera made you jump, thighs clamped together as you whimper. He sits on the couch and pulls you into his lap.

"i wanna play a game. It’s called I’m gonna fuck you in this cute little costume and if you cum before I tell you, you die. Understand?" You feel the knife press against your skin, the metal is cold and makes your pussy drip. Your back is to his chest, your legs spread over his so you cant close them.

"Mmm. I’m gonna fucking break you. How’s that sound?" He whispers in your ear, breath tickling your skin making you shiver, he shoves your skirt up and cuts your panties off. "Useless things." He hums and feels your wetness on the fabric. "Dirty slut." He chuckles deeply and throws the pair on his bag for save keeping. He moves so his cock is rubbing against your pussy, his skin is warm against yours. Making you feel like fire. "Sit on my dick" He commands and you do without question, gasping and squirming a little as he stretches your hole out. "F-fuck.." You whine and bit your lip as you sit all the way down. He smacks your thigh demanding you to bounce so you do. your chest bounces as you look at the camera and gasp, rolling your hips with each bounce to hit that special spot that makes your toes curl.

"Yeah, bounce on that cock." He groans and reaches around to rub your clit with his gloved hand before his hand snakes up to wrap around your throat. HIs grip is tight enough to make you see stars but in such a good way. "Gonna choke you extra tight this time. Hope you don’t need to breathe, that’d be a shame." He lets out a sadistic chuckle and smirks, you push out a small whimper.

"That’s it. So fucking good." He drops the knife and your throat so he can grab your hips and bounce you on his cock hard and fast. You can feel the air sucked from your lungs as you try and catch your breath from the quick pace. "Mister G-Ghost-F-Face please!" You manage to let out, trying to ask for a second to stop so you don't cum early.

"Aw I’m torturing you? Good. This is your punishment. I’m giving you what a nasty little slut deserves. I love watching you squirm on my cock while I touch you. I’m close. You better not be, though. I’d hate to have to spill my pretty little fucktoy’s guts." The growl of his voice makes you squeeze around his cock, so close to cumming without permission.

"I feel you clenching around me. Is an orgasm really worth your pathetic life, sweetheart?" He lets out a chuckle that turns into a small moan "Please Mister.. please.. please let me cum.. i can't hold it.. please.. please." You word vomit as you whine and try and hold it back.

"Is that begging, I hear? This is the best Halloween ever." He grins and flips you so youre bent over the arm of the couch, his hips drilling into your ass.

"Please!" You yelp at the sudden change

"Nope. Don’t you FUCKING cum. Do you wanna die?" The knife is against your neck, cold metal making your eyes water as you whine and squirm.

"You know the rules, baby girl. As much as I love hearing you beg, I’m not gonna let you off that easy." He pulls out and pants, he yanks the cloak off and his shirt, careful to keep the mask on. You look at the sweat on his chest, the scars that litter his torso.

"In fact, stand up." He sets off the couch and strokes his cock, the feeling of cumming disappears as you move to kneel on the floor once more, the cool hardwood burning your hot skin.

The gloved hand is in your hair once again, yanking your head back, he slaps you to get you to open your mouth. The tip of his cock slides down your throat, your nose pressed against the happy trail on his abdomen.

"I’m gonna cum down your throat." He hisses and starts to thrust into your throat, tears and spit spilling from you.

"Mmm! Swallow everything like the needy slut you are." He moans as the spurts of cum slip down the back of your throat, you try and gag at the sudden intrusion but he holds your head so you cant waste any.

He pants and moves to turn the camera off before stroking your hair. "good girl, didn't waste any. That's what i like to see." He smirks

"Are.. are you done?" You ask softly, hoping you aren't due to how bad you wanted to cum.

"Of course we’re not finished here. Since you’ve been so good for me, I’ll have to give you your treat. Bend over for me and keep your face forward. DON’T Turn around. You try to peek at my face and I’ll slit your pupils." He growls and watches as you scramble to follow orders. You hear the plastic mask hit the ground and grip the cushions of the couch. Suddenly you can feel the leather gloves on your ass and his tongue on your pussy, you gasp and squirm lightly.

"You taste so good baby. You like that?" He groans at your taste before sucking on your tongue, his tongue flicking over it a few times. You push back into him and gasp. "Fuck.. yes.. Fuck" You whimper, thighs quivering.

"I know you’ve been waiting so patiently to cum. You gonna cum for me?" "Yes.. Fuck.. Mister Ghostface.. I'd.. I'd love to cum for you." You choke out, harsh pants between words.

"Cum Doll." He growls as he slides his tongue into you, making you whine loudly and cum, body trembling. He groans at the taste and keeps going, tongue pressing into you until he feels your cunt stop quivering. He pulls away and you no longer feel his warm breath on your pussy. He pulls the mask back on. "Turn around baby." He hums and you slowly sit on the couch, looking up at him whose pulling his boxers back up. You snatch the mask from him as you stand up, his unruly blonde hair flattened from the mask and the sweat.

"Happy Halloween, baby. Sorry about ruining your costume. And your makeup." He had a shit eating grin on his lips as he looked at you. "Shut up." You mutter and kiss him, tasting one another on each others lips.

[dammn-dean]

Hii could you do a ghost x reader who is just gave birth having their day old child and soap John gaz came over to ghost house to see the baby once the reader left the room to go breastfeed their baby in their room price telling ghost how far he had come in life

Here you go! Thank you for the request, and I hope it’s okay. I made it a bit more (just a week) rather than a day old before they came over. That’s just because if someone came to my house the day I got home after giving birth, I would kill them 😅

Too Good

Pairing: Simon Riley x Female Reader

Words: 2400+

Warnings: Nothing really!

Also, this is the same universe as Unexpected! You don't have to read them first, but if you want to here is Part 1 and Part 2.

Beautiful art/rendering from @ave661

"Love, they are here!” Simon’s voice bellowed through the flat to reach your ears.

You let out a small, “Okay,” just loud enough for him to hear it. Your eyes staring back at you in the mirror, checking your appearance. 

Today was the day you were finally going to meet Simon’s team. You had overheard a conversation he had on the phone a week back, when you finally were home from the hospital. Simon was good at being sneaky (it was in the job description) but you still overheard him. 

“Aye, I need a bit more time,” he murmured into the phone. 

After a brief pause, “What do you mean ‘Just because’ isn’t an excuse?” He huffed. 

You were paused in the hallway, sleeping baby in your arms just praying she would stay asleep so you could listen in to the conversation a moment longer. 

“Gaz saw me take off from base? Bloody hell.” You could almost hear him gripping between his eyes in irritation. 

“Yes, I promise everything is alright yeah? Just had a bit of something to do.” He explained vaguely as ever. 

There was a long pause on his end, like the person on the other side of the phone was lecturing him. He will give an occasional small ‘Yes’, ‘I know’ or ‘Yes sir’,  which had you wondering who he was talking to. 

“Fuck me, Cap. You make it impossible to not tell you everything. Listen, I’ll call you later today and tell you everything okay?” Simon barely paused long enough for a response before he hung up. 

With a long sigh, he stood from his spot on the couch. He had noticed you were gone an awfully long time and began down the hallway to check on you. 

Too focused on slowly rocking your sleeping daughter in your arms and trying to be quiet to listen to his call you hadn’t even realized Simon was heading your way until it was too late. 

You almost jumped out of our skin when he appeared like an apparition into your vision. 

“Jesus Si!” You quietly yelled, more of a whisper to make sure you didn’t wake the baby. 

You watched as his lips curled into a smirk. “And just what are you doing sweetheart?” He leaned his shoulder into the wall as casual as ever. 

“Oh uh- well I was you know, well I was-“ your brain couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough.

“Didn’t take you for an eavesdropper sweet girl,” he said with a grin. 

“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” you replied defensively. 

“Right,” he laughed. “Hear anything good?”

“Not… really,” you murmured, clearly caught. 

“That was my Captain,” he explained. “Checking in on things after the way I left base.” 

You simply nodded, not quite sure what to say. 

“I thought I had left unseen, but apparently Gaz saw me leave ‘in a panic’ as he put it,” he rolled his eyes. “So he wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“Makes sense.” You bit the inside of your lip to stop from adding on to the sentence. 

But Simon always reads you like a book. He squinted at you before questioning “What is it?” 

Your eyebrows almost shot to your hairline at that. You cleared your throat and slowly walked around him to head towards the living room. The baby’s bassinet was in there and it would make it easier to have this conversation if she wasn’t in your arms. You gently placed her down with a kiss on her head, Simon followed right behind you and mirrored you with a tender kiss in the exact spot you had kissed her precious little head. 

You sighed softly before sitting on the couch. Simon sat beside you, shifting himself to face you a little more before you started talking. 

“I suppose I wondered… why didn’t you just tell him the truth?” You questioned softly. 

“Just what do you mean sweetheart?” 

“Well I mean… why didn’t you just tell him you left because I called you and that we have a baby.” You asked with a small tilt of your head. 

“Oh.” Simon responded with a hand on the back of his neck. He took a moment or two before his eyes met you again. “Love, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way and I hope you will let me explain.” He pleaded.

Even though that made you terrified, you just focused on your breathing and nodded. 

“Well I haven’t told the team about you yet,” he explained softly. 

Your face betrayed you and it fell immediately, eyes unable to meet him. Not even a second passed before his hands were on your tugging your chin back up to look at him. 

“It isn’t like that my love,” Simon went on. “You are just… everything to me. I come here to you and I don’t think about work. You deserve the world and somehow I thought keeping you and them separated would be best.” 

Hazel eyes held yours for a long time, nothing but true and raw emotion in them to convey he was telling the truth. 

“I understand,” you replied quietly. 

“Also, we haven’t really talked about if you wanted me to tell the team so I didn’t want to overstep…” Simon professed. 

As silly as it sounds out loud, he never wanted to force you to be a part of that part of his life, a part of the Ghost’s life. He has endured things you never deserved to even hear of, his sweet girl didn’t need to be exposed to it all if he had any say in the matter.

“I don’t mind if you tell people about me,” you said, almost embarrassed. You could feel the tips of your ears warming at the confession. 

“Yeah pretty?” He smiled as he gently touched your cheek with his fingers? “You want me to tell my team about you?” 

“Well I don’t-you don’t have to.” You mumbled out quickly. 

“You think I wouldn’t want to tell them about you?” Simon asked honestly. His fingers gently pushed your hair behind your ear. 

“I- I don’t know. Does everyone else talk about their partners?” You questioned honestly. 

“Price is the only one with a partner, Gaz and Johnny brag about their flings occasionally.” Simon broke into a big grin. “They won’t know what to do when I tell them about you.” 

“Oh,” you bit the inside of your lip again. “So you want to tell them about me?” 

“Of course love… I’ve almost let it slip out a few times as is,” Simon leaned in to brush a kiss along your cheek. “And I can’t wait to tell them about Emma too. If you are okay with that?” He pulled back to read your face. 

“I’m okay with it if you are, Si,” you reassured him. 

“I’m okay with it… but I will warn you once I tell them they won’t want to wait long before seeing you and the little miss,” he smiled as he leaned his head to meet yours. 

You paused for a moment, taking him in. Feeling safe and happier than you can remember feeling in a long time. “I’m okay with that.” 

So there you stood, in your mirror. Checking your appearance for the 5th or 6th time for the night. Even though you were a new mom, dealing with a changed body you wanted to make a good impression. 

Emma had been in her bassinet sleeping, awaiting the arrival of Simon’s friends (or work mates as he put it). Your body was still healing, so you had thrown on a soft but matching lounge set and felt nice to not be wearing a spit-up stained shirt and sweats for once. 

Simon opened the front door to see Price, Gaz and Johnny. All looking varied shades of giddy. Johnny was all but bouncing on his toes. Gaz held a kind smile that was a little bit too big to be classified as a ‘normal’ grin. Price stood behind the other two, stoic and holding a pretty bouquet of flowers. 

“Flowers are for the Missus,” Price began with a smile. 

“And this is for the little miss,” Gaz exclaimed. Pulling a gift bag that was hidden behind his back. 

Simon couldn’t help the small chuckle that fell from him. 

“Well come in then, yeah?” He asked with an arm out inviting his team into your flat. 

One by one the men made their way inside, all smacking Simon’s shoulder with pride before coming face to face with you in the living room. Simon took a few steps in your direction, before placing a gentle hand on your lower back to guide you deeper into the room.

“Price, Johnny, Gaz,” Simon began pointing as he said their name. “This is Y/N, sweetheart… this is my team.” Simon wouldn’t admit that he was nervous, but you could hear the waver in his voice that wasn’t usually there. 

“Heya there Mrs Ghost,” Johnny spoke up first, hand out shaking yours gently. “You dinnae tell us she was such a bonnie lass aye, LT.” His Scottish accent was thick, but the compliment followed by the wink he gave you had your ears burning. 

“Don’t you start with her MacTavish,” Simon warned jokingly, but pulled you into him a little more.

“I’m Gaz,” Gaz spoke up with a charming smile and a small handshake. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you,” you replied as your eyes fell to the small gift bag in his hand. He held the gift out, and Simon grabbed it. “We got the little Miss a gift, hope that’s alright.” Gaz gave you a huge grin showing almost all of his teeth. Even if you weren’t okay with the gift, how could anyone say no to him? 

The last man, with the mutton chops was the only one left and you knew who he was because Simon spoke about him the most to you, Captain Price.  

The Captain held out a beautiful bouquet of flowers to you, which you took immediately and smelled. “Nice to meet you,” he began. “Hard to believe someone has held Ghost’s heart and he is just now telling us about you.” He held a polite smile, but his voice had an edge to it.

Simon’s hand that was free raised to the back of his neck nervously. You let your eyes drift to his for a moment, silently checking in. Simon gave your waist a small and reassuring squeeze, signally that he’s good.

“Thank you all for the gifts… and it’s so nice to meet all of you. It’s great to be able to put faces to the names from Si’s stories.” 

“Si, eh?” Johnny’s lips turn up in a grin at the nickname.

“Johnny,” Price spoke up at that, warning him to behave. 

“Well who wants to meet Emma?” You spoke up, ready to move past the formalities. 

Simon nodded, and led you over to where she was still sleeping soundly in the bassinet. Once your eyes fall on her sleeping form you can’t help but smile. As gently as Simon could he picked her up with a kiss on her head, and laid her in your arms so that everyone could see her. The men gently circle in around you, none of them wanting to be the last to lay their eyes on her. 

“Wow,” Gaz whispered out. 

“Beautiful bairn LT,” Johnny complimented. His hand reaching out for Simon’s shoulder again to congratulate.

“This is Emma,” you introduce her to the team. 

She was tiny, sleeping while swaddled in her blanket. Price felt pride swell up in his chest, same as he would as if this was his biological grandchild. Simon stood at your side, watching you show off your daughter. Hand never leaving your lower back, as his other gently brushes her little cheek with the back of two fingers. 

Simon looked to Price and their eyes met, “Congratulations you two, what a wonderful baby girl.”

Emma decided now was the time to start whimpering, in warning before she started to cry out. You immediately started shushing her gently and bouncing her softly, to soothe her. 

“I think it’s time for someone to eat,” you explain to the group. “We will be back.”

Simon whispers into your ear, just a small word of encouragement before you head to the nursery to feed your daughter. 

They all watch you leave, no one speaking up until the door closes behind you. 

“Well if I didn’t see it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it.” Gaz gushed immediately. 

“Aye, LT you are pulling way outcha league,” Johnny bellows out a laugh at that. 

“Shut it, Johnny.” Simon rolls his eyes before heading to the kitchen. “Want a drink?” They all give different versions of a yes, then Price speaks up that he will join Simon in the kitchen. Gaz and Johnny then take a seat on the couch, starting up conversation immediately.

Simon heads straight to the cabinet snagging 4 tumblers out, before reaching to the bourbon on the counter. 

“Thanks for inviting us Simon,” Price started. “Your girls are lovely.” 

Simon couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at his lips. Despite how uncomfortable he was with all of this, from inviting his team into your flat, being a new father, hell he hasn’t even asked you if he can move in with you full time yet, he felt more at peace than he had in a long time. 

“Thanks Price.” He slid his glass across the island to Price, and he accepted the glass with a tilt of his head.

“You have come a long way, Simon.” Price expressed honestly. “In more ways than I can ever express.” He leaned his elbows on the island, looking into the glass of amber liquid. “Seeing you happy like this isn’t something I ever expected.” Price pulled his eyes from the glass to meet Simon’s. 

“Hell, I for sure never expected it,” Simon joked. 

“I mean it,” Price held a serious tone. “You deserve this.”

Simon nodded, not sure he did deserve this, but no sense in saying it outloud. 

“Aye, LT you mind if we put the match on?” Gaz asked from the entry of the kitchen, hand gesturing back to the TV in the living room.

“Sure,” he answered with a shake of his head. 

Without another word, Simon grabbed a second tumbler for one of the guys as Price grabbed the remaining one. 

“Who would believe we are going to watch the football match in Ghost’s flat?” Johnny jokes from the couch, grabbing the glass Simon handed him.

With a roll of his eyes, “Don’t get used to it.” Although, a smile was on his lips and his tone wasn’t as serious as usual. Maybe having them over isn’t the worst thing in the world.

Since this could be read as part 3 of Unexpected I went ahead and tagged you all again! Hope that is okay 😊

Tags: @daemondoll @mileyraes @axoleos @arminarlertssword @wawuwe @cxltblood @mrflyingbanana03 @itsmytimetoodream @arminarlertssword @mrssabinecallas @babygirl-riley @gplol @yuly

Thank you for reading! If you have an idea or request for a fic, feel free to send 🖤

[ive-been-timebombed]

PART THREE

💥Danny the avoider💥 and ✨Jason the Daddy issues✨

Jason decidedly hated Wickham. Both in the story and the blue dumbass. He had barely caught Dick when he decided to take an early leave and the damn floating asshat is just watching him like he was a the best thing he had seen in fucking years.

He needed to get Big Bird to the cave to check out whatever the fuck is happening to him. He needed to deal with the being and he didn’t know where to start. He can’t just shoot this problem and leave the problem could kill him with a snap of its fingers.. are they even fingers? The damn claws on it said otherwise..

“God damn it- The fuck are you even supposed to be?” Jason glared at the being pulled his brother up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Ghost, like you.?” The being spoke it looked awkward and it was picking at its nails similar to a kid.

“Like me? The fuck you know about me. I ain’t know you and you don’t know me. Actually let’s keep it that way. Fuck off back to wherever the hell you came from-“ Jason adjusted his helmet onto his head and looked around for his guns and the Dickheads sticks. Ignoring that panicking face of the being.

______

“God damn it- The fuck are you even supposed to be?” His son- his baby.. he can’t believe that his baby is right in front of him.. the very same one that he held all night when they wouldn’t stop crying.. the very same one that had explosive poops almost every night. Okay he didn’t miss that part. Or the other.. but he missed when he could look at his baby in the bed sleeping as laugh at the small snores that reminded him of his father’s. Or even the smile the kid had whenever he got back from work and picked him up from the neighbors.. oh god.. he really fucked up.. he gave his child away because of how selfish he was.

Back on track- wait did his kid not know he was a ghost? Actually he couldn’t judge. He didn’t either.. kinda really just thought he gained meta powers and not died.

“Ghost, like you.?” Danny said to his kid he felt so damn awkward.. he knew he should be more confident- being the king god thing of basically all does that to one. Take Pariah Dark for example. He was ugly yet still had the confidence to speak like he was the toughest guy around. Good reasons too, at the time he was the toughest guy around. Ghost? Guy? Same thing. No it’s not..

“Like me? The fuck you know about me. I ain’t know you and you don’t know me. Actually let’s keep it that way. Fuck off back to wherever the hell you came from-“ His kid truly hadn’t had a clue what he- wait. No, no, no he can’t lose his kid again. He already lost the rest of his friends and family he can’t lose his kid. Sure he had the ghosts and Ellie but this was his kid! The same kid that he held for three hours straight the night before he had to give his child away. He couldn’t let go again he couldn’t- wouldn’t. He knows where he is now- his core! He almost forgot! He needs to do something about that-

“No!” Danny yelled a bit louder than he wanted. His kid looked over at him his face was covered by the helmet thing. Why was his kid wearing that? “I mean- Your core it’s malnourished. You stay like that any longer you’ll- uh.. I don’t know I didn’t pay that much attention to Frostbite. But you need help-“

“My core? That fuck is a core, also back the fuck up.” His baby- grown up baby.. he didn’t see his baby grow up- held up the gun he had found on the ground pointing it at Danny,

“Oh- sorry” Danny floated back a bit he didn’t even notice that he got closer, “Your core, it’s basically your soul, mind, and organ in a tiny ball. It’s malnourished because- your parent was horrible and didn’t get you your ectoplasm!”

Danny was a horrible parent wasn’t he? He horrible, horrendous, good for nothing parent. Oh.. he shouldn’t ruin his baby’s unlife anymore than he did. He should just fix his core make sure he is okay and leave. Is it getting hard to breathe or is that just him..? He could feel his core crying out to his baby’s core.. he couldn’t leave him again. He couldn’t but he had to. His baby had a life that wasn’t with him. He needed to respect that.. the lump in his throat didn’t go away.. in fact only got worse at the thought.

_________

“No!” The being yelled. It scared Jason. It was like his insides, his brain.. the pits wanted to go up to the being and hug it. Like it could fix all his problems with just a hug and a few words.. like he felt when he got those faint memories of his bio dad. He was told he was adopted or given away by his bio dad to his mom. His Ma explained that his dad, better than the Willis, His dad had wanted nothing more than to keep him. But he was in big trouble and made the decision to give him away for his safety. Lot of good that did. Sometimes he wondered what his life would be like if his dad didn’t give him away. Would he be happier? Would he have different siblings? Would he be in college and become a lit major? Or even an author? Would he have died..? Would his dad avenge him unlike Bruce.? Is his dad even alive..?

“I mean- Your core it’s malnourished. You stay like that any longer you’ll- uh.. I don’t know I didn’t pay that much attention to Frostbite. But you need help-“ The being continued, who the hell was Frostbite? Jason didn’t care enough to ask. He needed to not be near the thing that made him think so clearly.

“My core? That fuck is a core, also back the fuck up.” Jason almost relaxed his body with how close the being got. He needed to not be here. At all. Away.

“Oh- sorry” The being floated back even apologized, “Your core, it’s basically your soul, mind, and organ in a tiny ball. It’s malnourished because- your parent was horrible and didn’t get you your ectoplasm!”

“My parents were fucking awesome! My Ma was the best mother I could’ve asked for- Sure my adoptive dad was shitty as hell. But my Ma told me even my bio dad loved me like a life line. That he gave me up for my safety! Fuck even the only damn picture I had of my father he looked at baby me like a was the best thing in the world!” Jason snapped he knew he didn’t turn out like Dick or even fucking replacement, the picture perfect son but he knew his Ma and Dad loved him like they were supposed to. The only picture he had of his Dad was destroyed in the explosion. The picture was of his Dad, the somewhat skimpy black haired with white at the nape man, the blue eyed the was cold but looked at him with warmth, the man that had a scar on his lip and inhuman sharp teeth man holding a two or three year old Jason who was sleeping in his fathers lap. He loved that picture like it was the last bit of air on earth. He reminded him that he had someone out there that loved him out of the streets, when he was fighting with Bruce, when he was an idiot and got himself killed.. fuck.. he even tried to yell for him when he was laying on the cold concrete covered in his own blood after the Joker left him.

The being looked at him with wide eyes, it tilted his head and his mouth open a bit like he was gonna say something. That’s when Jason noticed it. The scar on the beings lip. The exact same scar that he used to look for on every man in Gotham when he was younger. The same scar that he looked at for years in the picture of his father. The same scar he wanted to give himself just to have something to remember him.

“Wait-“ Jason started his voice cracked, like a fucking teenager. Then the fucking man himself, Batman, broke through the window making Jason look at him then back over at the being in a panic only to see nothing but an empty room. Not even the summoning circle was there. The only evidence left was Wickham..

[lululandd]

Hey 🍄 (ow and sorry for the bad english) Can you write what you think Simon would be like asking you, in the middle of the night, if you still love him?

like when you have those dreams where someone cheats on you and now you can only look sideways at the person yk ... can you do? pleasee (I imagine Simon like "do you still love me?😑😑"

solace;

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

wordcount: 574

warnings: fluff (´-ω-`) 

note: scrolling through fucking spotify looking for a title took longer than writing the goddamn fic

summary: simon had always made you feel safe, his touches gentle, his tone of voice playful, his kind eyes always telling you without words that you’re protected and adored.

It began with your bleary eyes cracking open; seeing the fabric of Simon’s shirt up close, moving up and down in tandem with the harsh breath you feel on the top of your head. You had moved closer together in your sleep, his hand draped over your shoulder while your legs tangle in between his. The whole bed oozes comfort, the knitted blanket–one he longingly looked at the farmers market–wraps over you both in a warm cocoon. 

Snuggling yourself deeper into the blankets and into him, you tried going back to sleep but Simon had started talking in his sleep and you intended to listen.

“Fuck off..” There was silence for a prolonged amount of time before he mumbled, loud and clear, “I’ll kill you.”

“Simon..” You whispered. Remembering how gently he wakes you up when you have nightmares, you try to do the same to him. Placing your hand tenderly on his side, you murmured into his chest, “Please wake up.”

A violent shift came over him and as soon as his hand was off you, instinct took over and you backed away from him. He was a little hard to see in the darkness of the room and you scrambled for the bedside lamp to at least have some light to assess the situation.

Simon had always made you feel safe, his touches gentle, his tone of voice playful, his kind eyes always telling you without words that you’re protected and adored. So when for the first time he stared daggers at you, it made your blood run cold and you didn’t know what to think or do. Sleep has left you completely at this point.

He called your name, his voice quiet but you can hear the cutting bite underneath. “Do you still love me?” He asked suddenly, tensing at the sight of one of your legs hanging off the bed, as if to run away.

Unmoving, you searched his face, trying to read his emotions. “Simon, did you have a weird dream?”

The only response you get is a grunt and him extending his hand slowly, hovering between you like a silent offering. Looking up into his eyes, the hardened edge that he displayed earlier had dissipated so you ignored his hand completely; opting to roll into the bed towards him with your half of the blanket. His arms enveloped you completely even before you reached him.

“You didn’t answer.” He spoke into your hair, his hands hugging you even tighter.

“As if the answer could be no, Simon.” wriggling yourself free from his hold and the blanket, you turn around and bury yourself into his chest as best you could. “You also didn’t answer.”

“Dreamt you ran away with your ex.” 

“Ew.” you frowned. Above, you hear him blow air out of his nose. “Wanna get some tea?” You offered.

His hand came up to rub soothing circles onto your cheek before moving his palm to cover your eyes. “Sleep.”

Your breathing eventually evened out, and he was about to let you go and roll onto his side of the bed when he heard you exhale his name softly, the exhaustion and lethargy apparent in your voice. 

“I’m too busy being yours to love anyone else.”

Somewhere during your descent towards unconsciousness, you can feel him holding your hand, twiddling with your ring finger. The affection and sentiment is familiar, but sleep took over before any thought registers.

[vanilladove]

⋆₊ ♱ perv!ghost!nikolai

spooktober 2024 masterlist | divider creds adornedwithlight

ཐི ♱₊ཋྀ pairing: ghost!nikolai x fem!reader

ཐི ♱₊ཋྀ genre: smut headcanons; 18+ only!!

ཐི ♱₊ཋ content warnings: shameless smut/nsfw, mentions of size kink, alcohol + drug use, lowk dubcon, slight angst at end, nikolai’s pov（＾ω＾）

ཐི ♱₊ཋ notes: experimenting with something new lmk if u guys like it or not 😔 kicking off spooktober as an apology for delays; babusya = ukrainian grandma

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who haunts an old apartment near a local circus; who still retains his maniacal trouble maker personality as a ghost

he settled on the apartment after an old babusya let him in and allowed him to stay there, offering his favorite piroshki in exchange for protection from other spirits. he messes with her, but doesn’t do anything too harmful—just some silly pranks

who gets bored after babusya passes away and new tenants move in

he’s really done everything he can to scare the shit out of all the tenants, but they keep coming and leaving—some even having the audacity to try exorcising him (it didn’t work)

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who has an insatiable urge to kill until he sees you, a sweet heartbroken girl, come to the apartment your ex was supposed to live with you in

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who decides to have some fun with you—he hasn’t seen anyone close to his age yet, and no one as pretty and cute as you

he starts small—moving things around, making noise + randomly braiding your hair at night, stealing things from your bags, switching lights on and off, etc.

he gets pissed when you take no notice, only drinking and crying over your stupid, ugly ex—seriously, nikolai saw the pictures of them and thought you could do way better

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who can’t look away from you while you undress before showering, admiring your perfect ass and tits and the soft curves of your body

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who switches your medications/supplements with aphrodisiac pills and waits until you take them while drunk, telling himself he just wants to see a reaction from you, but he has ulterior motives

he watches intensely as you suddenly feel hot and slip your fingers in your bra and panties, touching yourself in a lust-consumed frenzy

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who can’t stop himself from watching you whimper helplessly since the sensations aren’t enough—of course he has to help his little dove out by materializing both hands

he uses one to rub circles around your pretty clit and puts the other one in your mouth, training your throat for his big cock

you're too lost in the drug-fueled lust to pay any mind to the fact his hands appeared out of nowhere—you probably think it's just a sex dream

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who loves how you choke on his fingers, tears of pleasure streaming down your heated face as he inserts his long fingers in your wet pussy, watching your eyes roll back in pleasure as he hits the spots inside that you can’t reach without toys

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who savors the taste of your sweet release on his fingertips before replacing the fingers in your mouth with his cock, pushing it in with little warning

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who gets so fucking turned on by the way you adjust to his size and take him so well, using your hands to pump the length you can’t fit in your mouth

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who rewards his good little girl with his cum, shooting it down into your throat as you swallow every last drop and lick him clean, still aroused

deciding to help you out, he materializes fully and lines his tip up with your entrance, panting because he’s so close to being inside you, his latest obsession

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who pushes himself in your warm cunt, inch by inch, admiring your fucked-out glossy eyes and the arousal stuck on your thighs

he smirks when you suddenly get shy and cover your face, flustered by how attractive he is and how much pressure he’s causing in your insides

who whispers sweet nothings as you whimper from the uncomfortable stretch and assures you that you can take it all, licking the pricking tears from your eyes

he moves your hands away from your face and drags them across his abs and long white braid, occasionally peppering your body with kisses, and braiding stray strands of hair to calm you down while you adjust to his size—he can tell how full you are from the big bulge in your stomach

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who starts moving once you give him a cute nod, moving deep and slow at first until you're more used to his size

he litters kisses around your chest, kitten licking your swollen nipples which he knows are sensitive

he loves the way you slightly buck your hips up to meet his thrusts, occasionally pressing against your stomach and groaning when he can feel himself inside of you

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 breathes heavily against your smooth skin, his large hands around your waist to keep your squirming frame in place

who burrows himself into your neck as his strokes get slower, who tells you to say his name as you chase your own orgasm

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who cums when a soft i love you, nikolai rolls off your tongue, as you mess up his once neat white braid

he collapses gently on top of you--he doesn't remember the last time someone's addressed him so adoringly

he listens intently to your heartbeat, reminding him that you’re alive and he’s dead; his cold figure hugging your warm body

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who strokes your hair and rambles about nothing until you fall asleep, telling himself he's just using you for entertainment, despite the tightness in his chest

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who disappears in the morning but still watches you intently, waiting for another lonely night where he can touch you

[kismetlotts]

cw: sexual content

Colleague Simon Riley who you banter with all the time. You weren’t scared of him or intimidated by him like everyone else and he found that different; intriguing. You’d seen him kill people so effortlessly, watched him make decisions that would keep people up all night but nothing put you off. There was something there on your end that drew you in- he had no clue what it was until one morning Johnny decided to enlighten him.

“Aye Ghost has everyone tinklin’eir pants’!” He’d laughed, the two of them were walking towards a helicopter preparing for their mission together, his hand pushing Ghosts shoulder trying to get something out the man but failing as usual. Johnny can talk for days, meaningless rambling, life stories, ranting, joking- god the guy doesn’t shut up. He was nearly as bad as you and in his head he was sure you two were distantly related. Two of the most annoying people being two of the most closest people to him.

“Aside from bonnie, eh’ she’s wet for other reasons.” He’d chuckle out, arm still bumping into his shoulder while he laughs loudly, but Simon froze. His whole body hot and stomach swirling surely he must’ve heard wrong. Even if he heard right, it’s Mactavish. He’s not exactly great at reading people more so knowing something like that.

“What?” Simon asked his voice dark and gruffly. Johnnys eyes met his and his cheeky smile fell of his face. Eyes scanning Ghosts for a moment before stopping in shock, mouth open slightly.

“Ya didn’t know? You ave’ her wrapped round your finger! Don’ try mess with me every’ne knows it’s obvious- she’s even gon’ told me tha’.” And Simon just felt lost. He wasn’t sure how to feel. He’d never really been with a woman or exactly cared to, his life was hectic as a youngster and being in the SAS it’s not often he engages or talks to a woman other than yourself. He didn’t see you in a romantic aspect: he’d never really thought of it. You’d always just been you to him, the girl who annoys him, he’d never thought about being with you. Or maybe you were just attracted to him, maybe you just wanted to fuck him- He didn’t know. He didn’t know much about feelings.

“She said herself that she gets wet over me?” He asked again just to be clear. His way with words were cut to the point and open, hearing Simon say ‘gets wet’ so fast and easily was enough to make Johnny cringe internally but he nodded. He told Simon about that night- what you had said, what you wanted. He went over everything thag happened while you two were hanging out. You and Johnny were kind of close and as much as Johnny talks, he didn’t take the Scott man for a liar. Simon spun around on the spot, telling Johnny to continue on with the mission and take another recruit before heading for the offices, catching a glimpse of you sorting through papers.

He slipped into the room quietly, walking up behind you as you spun around reaching for something. Jumping as he looked down at you, silently.

“- Oh my fuck! Simon! You scared me you idiot.” Your heart pretty much jumping out of your chest as you huffed. You’d already been so stressed out with all this paperwork given to you- this wasn’t even your job but of course you’d help out where needed. Simon just looked down at you more, eyes squinting below his skull mask as he looked over you. You shot him a glance, then another one, then another one until you were about to ask what his problem was but Simon spoke first.

“Do I make you wet?”

“….Sorry?”

“Do I make you wet? Like horny?” You were fucking gobsmacked and you knew exactly what had happened and you swore to god were going to fucking murder that mohawk wearing, secret sharing dickhead. And Simon was no better, how can someone just go up to you and ask you that? Your back ran cold and your face burnt hot- words coming out in a jumbled mess.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” And instead of talking he took a step forward, cornering you in and making you step back. Not realising what was happening yourself until you were against the wall, looking up at him with them eyes. So wide and innocent, shining in the light, but fabricated with a need. A desire.

Everything in your vision blurred beside Simon, it was like you were back in bed. Lost in your dream world, slipping your hand into your panties, circling your clit imagining he was in bed with you. Imagining you him so close to you. Your pussy throbbed and you could feel the wetness of your panties already, still looking up at him as you blinked. Simon saw it now, the look in your eyes- it really was obvious. His eyes dropped down your body and back up at your eyes as he took a step back himself in disbelief.

“Fucking ‘ell, I do don’t I?” And what could you say? Lie? That would make the situation bigger than it needed to be with either you being found out as a liar or Johnny. You couldn’t admit it could you? I mean the two of you were close but he was still your Lieutenant. You could be in a lot of trouble- fuck if he wanted, you could probably lose your job. A sigh left your lips as you wracked your head for ideas. Excuses, explanations- but you had to be honest with him, it was the only way.

“Look! It’s not like romantic- I’m not like into you like that at all. I just- Okay I just find you attractive. It’s like if you were looking at some hot naked woman, you’d get hard wouldn’t you? I cant help what my body does!” Simon stood still, staring at your legs which only added to the moment. Only added to the aching need you felt

“I’m not naked. I ain’ sexy and I wear a mask for a living ‘nd kill people, you find that attractive, do ya?” Yes. You did and you didn’t know why yourself. You knew what he meant by it and he knew you didn’t find killing people attractive so instead of getting defensive you stayed quiet. You found him attractive, his voice, his height and the mask added to your intrigue. He watched as you remained quiet taking a deep breath and tilting his head to the side.

“So you want to fuck?” His voiced asked slightly deeper and you let out a laugh, back still pressed against the wall as he moved in closer.

“Jesus Christ Simon you cant just ask someone that-“ His hands met your body as he began to trace the fabric of your clothes, running his fingers over your skin slowly because he was starting to see something in you. Something sexual and he fucking liked it. He licked his lips underneath his mask, smirking as he locked eyes with you again.

“Just take my chances then?”

[disillusioneddanny]

Crackling Flames and Humming Electricity

Prompt courtesy of @stealingyourbones Jason gets his neck sliced by Bruce’s batarang. It irreversibly damaged his vocal cords.

Pros: He can still use ghost speak

Cons: None of his family knows ghost speak (as it’s sounds aren’t for living men to understand)

It had been an accident when it happened. That’s what Bruce had said anyway. He had been so focused on saving Joker from being killed by Red Hood that he hadn’t even realized what he had done to his son . That he had permanently disabled Jason in a way that could never be repaired.

The slice to his throat had destroyed his vocal chords. He hadn’t been able to say a single word in over a year now. After a year of vocal therapy, Jason had learned how to do these strange chirps and growls, these weird noises that didn’t seem to come from his throat at all but moreso his very being let out the noises. The only problem was that no one understood what he was saying.

Cass had been a blessing and had taken the time to teach Jason how to successfully sign. She had taken it on as her mission as the only other person in the family who was mute to make sure that Jason could effectively communicate.

He hadn’t been back at the manor since the accident, hadn’t been around Bruce since it happened. But each of his siblings had come to check on him, they checked in on him every so often and they had even managed to develop their own way of understanding the strange rumblings that came from Jason’s body that were now his only form of vocal communication.

A chirp meant that he was happy.

Two chirps was a yes.

A short growl was no.

A long snarling growl? He was pissed and you better leave him the fuck alone.

It wasn’t the best, but it worked when they spoke with him on comms. They couldn’t understand any of the other noises that came from Jason, the wails, the crackling of fire that somehow espaped him sometimes. A sound that could only be described as the sound of smoke itself slipping through the air. They were sounds that didn’t have names, there were no true words to describe the noises that would come from Jason at times.

His family tried. Oh his siblings desperately tried to understand this new way of communication with their brother but none of it was effective. No one truly understood him anymore. Not even Cass could always understand what Jason was trying to explain in his broken sounds and strange chirps.

That had all changed one fateful day, though.

Jason had gone to pick up a coffee from the only functioning shop in Crime Alley. It had just opened a few weeks before and he had been meaning to try it out. Wanted to see the brave bastard willing to open up such a pretty coffee and tea shop in the middle of Crime Alley of places. Something had been tugging at Jason’s gut about the place, almost as though it was calling Jason here, like he needed to be at the coffe shop.

Seriously, though, as he inspected the layout, it looked like the kinda place to be opened in one of the fancier neighborhoods in Gotham, not Red Hood’s home.

Red Hood had managed to keep his operations running even after the accident. If anything, it had made his people even more loyal to him. Those closest even taking the time to learn sign language just so that they could communicate and translate. They had all seen the way he had tried to take down Joker, only for the fucking Batman attempt to murder him just to save the very man who tormented the people of Gotham. Of course, the people of Crime Alley were more commonly his victims, less likely to be noticed if they were murdered, less likely to be taken seriously.

So it had come as a personal offense to all of them when Red Hood had been nearly killed. They had all respected Red Hood even more after it had happened, realizing that not only had he gone against the bat, but he had done it and lived out of pure spite.

Jason slipped through the door of the shop, Phantom’s Oasis it was called and looked around. Dark black metal chairs and tables lined the walls, Boston ivy grew along the charcoal grey walls. Any parts that were not covered by ivy were covered by bookshelves overfilled with books. And while tables and chairs lined the walls, comfy, overstuffed chairs filled the corners with small coffee tables, the middle of the area sat large velvet green couches. It was like it was the perfect oasis for Jason.

He made it up to the back counter where a single employee stood cleaning the counter. He was young, probably just a year or two younger that Jason. He was tall and lanky with deep black hair pulled back in a pony tail, showing off the shaved sides of his head. Cosmic themed earrings hung from his lobes and cartilage and when the man glanced up, Jason was also surprised to find a ring on either nostril in the man’s nose along with a septum piercing. For all that his looks screamed edgy, though, he exuded nothing but safety and warmth. Something in Jason’s very being ached to be close to the man.

Unable to stop himself he released a soft sound, the sound of walls breaking under strong flames. The man’s head shot up and he smiled at Jason before releasing a sound of his own.

It was the sound of the stirrings of a storm. Hello, it said. How are you?

“You know what I’m saying?” Jason asked, only the words came out in the sound of a roaring flame, those of a bonfire finally growing higher and higher. He signed the words as well causing the barista to grin in response.

“Of course I do, we’re the same,” he explained through sounds of a building creaking against harsh winds.

A childlike peel rang from Jason’s mouth unable to stop himself. It was the laughter of a child who thought Robin was magic. The laughter of someone who had finally found someone who understood him.

“How?” Jason asked, tilting his head to the side, his heart racing.

The barista smiled and a single black painted finger nail beckoned him closer.

In English the man whispered in Jason’s ear once he approached. “Because just like you, I died wrong and came back wrong,” he murmured before he pulled away and took in Jason’s form. “It’s why you were drawn here.”

Smoke crackled in the air showing Jason’s curiosity, his confusion.

The barista smiled. “You don’t know what you are, do you?” after a shake of Jason’s head the man smiled. “Jason Todd, you are an extraordinary being that is both of life and death. A being that has lost more than he ever gained but continued on stubbornly, refusing to back down. You were called to Phantom’s Oasis because your core heard my ghost speak and like calls to like.”

Ghost speak? Is that what the sounds that escaped Jason were? A language of those who had died and come back wrong? Or didn’t come back at all judging by the name. The sound of fire crackling filled the empty coffee shop.

“I’m Danny, by the way. Now, what would you like to drink? I can make it real quick, close up shop and we can talk.”

The crackling of a sparkler escaped Jason’s being causing Danny’s noseto wrinkle in amusement. “You’ve got yoursel a fire core, huh?”

Pops and crackles slipped from Jason, showing his curiosity.

“Order first, then I’ll answer your questions,” Danny said in the form of the sounds of electricity crackling through the air.

Jason frowned and started to sign his order only for Danny to push his hands down. “Use your words,” he said quietly. “I’ll understand.” The sounds that came from Danny were reminiscent of an old generator turning on for the first time in years, the electricity hummed the words out for Jason to understand.

Rustling and crinkling of a fire’s flames going out sounded throughout the room. “Vanilla late with sweet cream,” it said to Danny.

The hum of white noise came through in response, telling him that Danny understood as he got to work. He waved a hand causing Jason to look back as the door to the shop locked itself.

“I’m a halfa,” Danny told him through the sizzling of lightning that had just hit the earth. “You are what feels like a revenant. Someone who died a brutal death and came back to seek revenge. You have someone we ectoplasmic entities call a core.”

Jason listened as Danny spoke in sounds of crackling electricity and quiet hums of white noise as he explained ghost cores to Jason. Ghost cores were their very being, they were created in result of the person’s death. In their examples, Danny had died by electocution, it was why his ghost speak sounded like electricity coursing in the air and lighting crackling angrily and wildly. He didn’t need Jason to confirm before he had said that the revenant had died in a fire of some sort. He explained that all ghosts had the basic chirps and growls for ghost speak but that the rest was specific to their cores as they were all different.

It wasn’t Jason making the noises that came out of him but his very core himself. For the first time in a year, though, Jason was finally able to speak to someone without sign, to use his words to explain what happened to him, the pain he had gone through when realizing that his father would rather kill him than let him get revenge. He had finally found someone who understood the ache of not being able to exact revenge on the person who had killed him.

For the first time in Jason’s life, he had finally found someone who understood. Danny had sat there drinking his own London Fog as he listened to Jason’s tell. Responding in chirps, whistles and a gentle hum of running appliances. He gave insight and advice, had even given Jason his number explaining that yes, they could use ghost speak over the phone as well.

He had never felt so seen in all of his life.

Maybe that explained why he kept coming back to the coffee shop. Every day he would come, order his coffee, using a language that just he and Danny knew and curled up on a couch and read for hours, feeling at peace in a way he hadn’t experienced since he had died.

Maybe it explained why he went out on a limb and asked Danny on a date, demanding that the halfa come over to his place for dinner.

Of course, Danny had only agreed if Jason promised to make the halfa’s favorite. The night had quickly ended with their cores singing for one another as their legs tangled together under the safety of Jason’s blankets.

Rustling and crackling of a candle flame sounded through the room as electricity hummed along with it, creating a symphony of white noise that Jason loved more than anything in the world. The noises provided a sense of comfort and safety unlike anything he had ever experienced. He wanted to drown in the sounds, drown in the sounds of Danny’s crackling electricity that whispered promises of happiness and safety. Just as the whispering flames of Jason’s core told Danny stories of love and promises of companionship, holding him close, wrapping around him in a warm comforting blanket.

The air crackled around Jason as he stood in the kitchen quietly making breakfast, revelling in the feeling of Danny surrounding him from all sides.

His fire chirped at the halfa in curiosity. One or two it asked him.

Two, electricity said with a charged hum, thin arms snaked around Jason’s waist.

“I think you’re going to have to invite me over more often,” lightning crackled, a crash exploding from Danny in a way that made Jason shiver in delight.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you leave,” fire roared, flames licking high in the air, causing wood to shatter and break under the heat. Danny just chuckled and kissed the side of his neck softly.

Electricity flowed from Danny along with a series of chirps, whistles and growls, telling Jason he had no problem with staying by Jason’s side.

[empresskylo]

[part 1] part 2 of touch-starved where Ghost and you have been distant ever since that night. you do not have to read part 1 in order to understand this part btw

a/n: you guys, i am down so incredibly bad. my entire pinterest and tiktok is covered with this stupid mask-wearing man. and i don’t even play the game so it has everyone around me like 🤨 also super annoyed that part 1 glitched or sumn because it posted my unedited version. edited version is on my ao3. anyways, enjoy the smut <3

masterlist

cw: ptsd, smut, p in v, reader described as small and referred to as a woman and blushes once

simon “ghost” riley x afab!reader

wc: 3.3k

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓

It was late in the compound, the silent night echoing through the hallways. Ghost and you had, in fact, been awkward the moment you released one another from your embrace. You had shuffled uncomfortably beside him as you both stood up. Ghost cleared his throat and his eyes danced across your face, his eyes unreadable. He shied away and motioned you to follow as you continued heading to base. 

It was weeks after that mission and you hadn’t really seen all that much of Ghost since. You had come up to train with Soap while Ghost was in the room. He swiftly exited, grumbling in annoyance as he left. Soap had raised his brows, noticing the (extra) grumpiness in Simon. 

You tossed and turned in your small room, a tiny bed and a chest of your things filling the space. You usually shared the room with another woman on your team but she was offsite at the moment. 

You grumbled, shoving your boots on as you got up in the dark. You decided you needed to walk it off. Maybe then you could sleep.

In just a tank top and tight black leggings, you left your room. 

You immediately collided with a large, firm object. You tripped, off balance from your boots not being tied, and fell backward. Two strong arms caught you, making you finally look up and coming face to face with Ghost. “Oh. LT,” you said embarrassed.

Ghost set you upright then removed his hands from around your arms, leaving a lingering warmth in their absence. Ghost was busy making his rounds as usual when your small frame came bustling into him. Always so clumsy.

Ghost’s blue eyes scanned your face. He was about to walk away and continue what he was doing, but halted. “Have you been cryin’?” 

You felt your face warm. Why did he always have to be so blunt? 

You shifted uncomfortably between your feet. He tried to get a glimpse of your face but you had shied away, staring at your boots. He could see the dark circles around your eyes from exhaustion. The same that he saw in his own reflection every morning. “Oh, uhm…” You rubbed the back of your neck.

“You still thinkin’ ‘bout that night?” You looked up at him and gave a meek nod. Of course, Ghost was referring to the close call a week ago where you almost got Gaz killed. You all had made mistakes that night, but Ghost had watched as your hand slipped from Gaz’s grip because you had failed to properly secure the rope holding you up. He had seen the horror spread across your face. 

Honestly, you were surprised Ghost hadn’t kicked you off his team yet. Soap and Gaz had reassured you that you were a crucial part of the team and any one of them could have made that mistake. 

But they didn’t. You did.

You watched as Ghost rolled his eyes and gripped his gun on his hip tighter before pushing you back into your room and closing the door. 

He sat on your roommate's bed and pointed at yours. “Sit,” he commanded. 

You did as you were told and closed your eyes. Here it was, the big moment where your Lieutenant finally ripped you a new asshole for being such a fuck up.

Ghost’s husky voice filled the already cramped space, threatening to overfill it. “I lost one of my best men back in the beginning.” Your eyes opened. You could see him in the faint glow of your room’s light. His eyes were heavy, surrounded in black, as he looked at you. “It was because of me.” Ghost felt his fist squeeze harder. You stared at him, realizing he was trying to make you feel better. To tell you how he had done something similar in the past. Though, he wasn’t great with words. You smiled at Ghost’s first kind words to you. “What?” His voice boomed with annoyance.

“Nothing.” Your smile sank as you thought of Gaz and you felt tears begin to well in your eyes again. “I’m not used to all this,” you said, gesturing around you. 

“The military?”

“Being alone.” Your voice was quiet. You had always had your family. Friends. And for all of it to be taken from you destroyed you. You felt a strange sense of relief finding family with these men. They filled the void that you tried to stuff with whatever you could. But there was always that one part that never quite filled.

Your knees brushed against Ghost’s. He reached out without thinking and grabbed your hand. No. You weren’t alone. They were your family now. This was your home.

Ghost was solely wearing his balaclava mask without his usual hard skull addition, which felt more intimate. You could see the instant regret in Ghost’s eyes when he realized what he was doing. As he retracted his hand, you reached out and stopped him. Just like before, your name left his mouth in a faint whisper. You slowly stood, still gripping Ghost’s gloved hand, and pushed him back onto the cot. Maybe it was the way you now knew perfectly well that Ghost was feeling the same absence you were. Or maybe it was the darkroom that gave you confidence. You slowly crawled up beside him, your heart pounding in your ears. You moved dramatically slow, like you were attempting not to spook a feral cat—and in a weird way, you were. 

Ghost’s eyes were burning a hole through you as he just let you touch him like this. He had half a mind to push you away, but his body knew how alone he felt as well. He craved this. 

You rested a hand on his chest and Ghost felt your touch burn him through his clothes. He gently moved his shoulders so he was sliding his tactical gear off. Your small fingers helped, throwing his vest onto the floor. In one swift motion, Ghost decided what he wanted and he pulled you on top of him, your body flat against his. A small yelp had escaped your lips. You were afraid Ghost could feel your heart racing. His arms tightened their grip around you, suddenly overflowing with the need to connect with another human. To have your delicate hands caress him. To feel the warmth of your body against his. 

He slipped his gloves off and he placed his calloused hands on your exposed arms. You held in a tight breath as he gently touched you. 

You felt his chest move as he let out a painful breath. You peered up at him finally, faintly making his eyes and mask out in the dim light. Ghost looked down at you as he felt your eyes lock onto him. You gulped, unsure of what your next moves would bring.

You trailed your hands up, making Ghost’s own slip from your arms and rest on your waist. You propped yourself up slightly as you reached out to Ghost’s mask. He flinched backwards before stilling. Taking that as consent, your fingers pulled the bottom of his mask up from its spot under his black shirt. Ghost was breathing loudly through his nose as you edged the hem of it up slowly. You finally pushed it up, just enough to expose his jaw and the tip of his nose. You stopped there to much of Ghost’s relief. If you had tried to remove his mask any further, he would have likely thrown you off of him. 

“I get it,” he said softly. 

“Hm?” Your eyes traced his lips as he spoke, his thick accent pooling from his mouth that you could finally see. He had quite a bit of stubble coming in. “Being alone,” he finished.

“And do you like it, LT?” Your eyes darted up to his, almost challenging him. Did he like being alone? He had told himself yes for years. Every void he felt didn’t matter. He filled it with violence and bloodshed from striking down his enemies. 

But now, having your warm body flesh against his own, your tiny fingers brushing against his jaw as you pried his mask up, he wasn't so sure. He wanted you. Desperately. 

Ghost’s silence was deafening as he contemplated. Finally, he pulled you up into him, a small “Wha—“ leaving your lips before they were locked with his. Ghost didn’t begin to move until you reciprocated. Then, he deepened the kiss. His mouth attacked yours fervently. Your hand slid up to his chest to hold yourself steady. One of Ghost’s hands tightened on your hip, the other moving into your hair. He pulled you closer, his tongue sliding against your lips. His fingers clenched your hair, a feeling he hadn’t felt in so long. 

As fast as it began, it ended. Ghost pulled back, both of you breathless. His hand didn’t leave its spot behind your head as he spoke. “No. I don’t fucking like it.”

Your eyes widened in reaction to something you couldn’t quite explain. Your body tingled as he stared at you. You moved your fingers to the hem of his t-shirt, edging it up. You wondered if you were going too far. Before you could finish your thought, Ghost pushed you back onto his thighs and tore his shirt off, careful to not catch his mask in the process. At this angle, you could make out the details of his partially exposed face. You saw old, faded scars that trickled across his face. One slid down his neck to his shoulder. 

You pulled your tank top off, your breasts exposed, though he could hardly see in this lighting. You tentatively leaned forward, your chests colliding. You hugged him as close as you could, your body flat against his once again, but without the fabric. Ghost’s arms came up to wrap around you, pulling you into him. You felt a sigh of relief escape his mouth as you held each other, your fingers tracing smooth circles on his side. 

You could hear his heartbeat. You smiled lazily. How much you had missed having someone you trust this close. 

You turned to him and leaned up to kiss again. You could see his hesitation, but he concluded his thoughts by softly kissing your lips. You felt a chill run down your spine. This was the man who could scare a grown man with just a look. The man who gave you orders. The man who couldn’t be killed. A man filled with such rage that it came out in bursts of humor here and there. A man who hadn’t shown anyone his face is God knows how long. 

And then here he was, pressed against you, kissing you so delicately like you might break. His rough fingers ran along your back, the heat from your body making him sweat. 

He should be worried about what this meant for the two of you. How wrong this was since he was your lieutenant. But Ghost’s mind was so preoccupied, he wasn’t sure he had the strength to think about anything other than the way you were consuming him in this moment. 

He felt your fingers fiddle with his belt. A wave of heat ran to his crotch. He pushed you back and you pouted, suddenly embarrassed. You had gone too far. Of course, Ghost wouldn’t want to—

You were cut off when you saw Ghost lifting his hips to push his pants down. You gulped, a blush spreading across your chest. 

He reached out for you. He knew how pathetic he was acting, but he didn’t care. He was drunk off your touch and fuck, did he need more. He wouldn’t let himself ruin this.

His fingers played with the hem of your leggings and he tried to pull them down. You stood up and tore them off before settling yourself on his thighs once again. Your hands rested on his strong shoulders, looking into his eyes shyly. He was breathing deeply as he stared at you. Both of you were shocked at what you were doing. 

“We can stop if…” he started, but you reached out and dragged your fingers along his scruffy jaw, making his words get trapped in his throat. Your finger pads tickled him as they slid down his slightly hairy chest and traced over his faded scars. 

“Do they still hurt?” You asked timidly, afraid you were really pushing things now. Maybe all he wanted was the feeling of a woman in his bed after not having one for so long. You bringing up his battle scars was sure to kill the mood. 

“Not physically.” You felt goosebumps rise on your skin, his voice far deeper than you’ve ever heard him before. You leaned down and placed a kiss against them. Peppering him with your soft lips. Ghost felt his eyes shut as he focused on the way your lips felt against him. Your wandering hands tracing his side and thigh. 

You looked back up at him and his hands immediately went to you. His hand slowly skimmed your thigh, edging closer to your throbbing core. He hesitated before stroking his knuckle against your underwear, making you bite your lip. He was so slow with his movements, wanting to be gentle with you. Shit. Had it really been this long since he got laid?

He watched as your eyes squeezed shut, your nails digging into his shoulder as he continued to drag his knuckles against you. 

Ghost had reached his breaking point when he saw your face drowning in pleasure. He grabbed your hips and flipped you around so you laid sprawled beneath him. You let out a tiny yelp, your eyes wide open now as you stared at a hovering Ghost above you. His hands gripped your panties and slid them down your legs and threw them on the floor. He looked down at you, his mouth all but watering. You tried to squeeze your thighs together feeling flustered at his gaze. He pried your legs apart and settled himself between them so you couldn’t close them again. “Don’t get shy on me now, pet.” 

You took in a sharp breath at the name he just called you. Unsure if you liked it or not, Ghost halted movement before you were prying at his waistband. His husky chuckle vibrated through his chest. 

He pushed his underwear down just enough to free himself and he rubbed himself against you. You gasped and grabbed onto his shoulders again. You wanted to look down and see if he was as big as you thought but it was too dark in your room to tell. You’d find out soon enough. 

Ghost’s pupils were blown as he pressed against your soaking entrance. He crashed down on top of you and held himself up with his elbow, his chest pressing against yours, his other hand lining himself up. As he began to push himself into you, his hand came up, getting lost in your hair. 

You both groaned as he stretched you out, slowly filling you. He really was big.

After a few painfully long moments, he bottomed out, his breath hot on your neck as he panted against you. His hands continued to wander across your body, grabbing the fat around your thigh and hips every so often. Then moving up to caress the swell of your breast. Ghost pulled out and then pushed himself back in rather roughly. “Simon,” you gasped. His name in your voice had his eyes honing in on yours. He sounded gruff as he spoke, “Am I hurting you?” 

You shook your head, desperate for him to slam into you again. You bucked your hips against him and he got the message. 

Simon began at a steady pace, growling each time his cock hit your cervix. You dug your nails into his back, Simon painfully stretching you out. 

Simon’s face sank into the crook of your neck, leaving little kisses against your skin as he rutted into you. He smelled of mint and gunsmoke. His hand slid along your body and up into your hair, giving it a slight pull. You mewled, your eyes fluttering. “Like all the lil’ noises you make,” he grumbled between grunts. 

Your walls clenched against him and he swore under his breath, his hands gripping you tighter. His body laid flat against yours, your nipples pressing against him. You were completely engulfed by this large man; you never felt so safe. 

You began muttering incoherent words as he filled you up, completely drunk off him. Ghost pulled away and looked down at you. Your eyes met his. Your face was glowing with sweat as the two of your bodies intertwined in the small quarters. 

Ghost gripped your thighs and pushed them towards you so he could get a better angle, all while never breaking eye contact. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” he moaned. Your hands clenched the bedsheets, your walls tightening in on him. You both were dangerously close. 

One of his fingers began to rub circles on your clit. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you repeated his name again and again. “Look at me,” Simon demanded. Your eyes flew open and locked back with his as you came, your walls clenching Ghost’s cock painfully tight. He moaned as he watched you gasp in ecstasy. 

“Fuck. Simon,” you mewled. That was enough to push him over the edge. He pulled out of you before stroking himself and coming against your lower belly, leaving ropes of his come dripping down you. 

You both struggled to catch your breath. Simon rubbed his cock against your slit, riding out both of your highs. 

Your orgasm floated away as you came down from your high, relaxing into the pillow. The dark makeup around Ghost’s eyes were smudging from the heat, but it just made his eyes even more captivating. 

Before you could speak, Simon leaned over and grabbed his t-shirt, wiping his mess off your belly. 

Ghost’s eyes analyzed your face, trying to read your expression. He pulled his mask back down and silently got dressed. You did the same. 

You looked up at him as he towered over you, he seemed a lot shorter when you were both horizontal. He had everything on except his shirt, which he held in his hand. You’d be lying if you said the sight of Ghost’s exposed chest wasn’t sending a rush of warmth between your thighs again. 

He stood there, lost for words. You shifted between your feet as he intently watched you.

“I, uhm. If you want, you can…well. You can lay here with me. For a bit. If you wanted.” 

Your face was red hot as you babbled like an idiot. But you desperately wanted Simon to lay down and hold you as you fell asleep, so you didn’t care about acting like a fool at this very moment. 

Simon pushed off his tactical gear instantly as if he was just waiting for the invite. He loomed over you before pulling you down with him into your tiny bed. Ghost took up most of the mattress so you were forced to lay flat against him, his arm gripping you close like he never wanted to let go. Your back pressed into his chest and your eyes felt heavy at the rise and fall of his breath. 

You felt him reach up and take his mask off, clutching it in his hand as he held you, his mouth next to your ear as he shared your pillow. You fell asleep to his warm breath and nose nuzzling you. You’d worry about the awkwardness tomorrow, especially when you realized Ghost would have to somehow exit your room without getting caught. 

Ghost’s hand clutched you against him the entire time he slept. He hadn’t slept this well in years.