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

[luxcuriousao3]

I've been messing around lately, writing Ghost in different ways to see which rings most true to his character (in my opinion). I wouldn't say that it does ring true for me in this one (then again this one did spawn from my stalker!Ghost thots, tho this fic isn't part of that universe), but I decided to post it anyway. So this little ficlet, despite being xReader, is more of a Ghost character study than anything else. This characterization is definitely experimental, and leans into the "Ghost and Simon are separate personalities" headcanon. No smut, but still NSFW.

Ghost x general's daughter!Reader

You were the daughter of some aging General, a balding, pot-bellied man on his way out, an honorable discharge in his near future. You’d come to visit him on the base, a tray of gooey brownies held firmly in your hands, two hot cocoas balanced on top, and a visitor’s badge pinned to your chest.

Initially, Ghost hadn’t taken much notice of you. Pretty thing, would be easy to kill, was his first impression. A casual, fleeting thought that he paid no attention to but made Simon shudder. There had been a time that when Ghost was in control, Simon was entirely unaware. He would come to and hours could have passed, sometimes days, or, on one particularly grueling campaign, even weeks. It was how he knew there was something evil lurking inside him. But in the desert, all was revealed, and Simon and Ghost were irrevocably tangled up in one another, the same but not, like two different sides of a single coin.

It wasn’t until you walked straight into his firm, broad chest and spilled the scaldingly hot drinks on him that he really noticed you.

Clumsy fuckin’ bird, Ghost thought angrily as he grunted in pain. Should break your bloody wings.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” You chirped, looking up at him with wide, apologetic eyes. He waited for you to flinch and look away when you saw his mask, but you didn’t. You just shifted your tray of brownies to one hand, the other fluttering uselessly over his soaking wet chest for a few seconds, before you grabbed the hem of your dress in a panic and lifted it up to try and dry him off with it.

Your dress was long, long enough to keep you from flashing him entirely, but he still caught an eyeful of your legs, even a glimpse of your plush thighs. At least until you realized what you were doing and dropped your dress again with a squeak of embarrassment, cheeks reddening.

“I’m so sorry,” you repeated earnestly, as Ghost stared down at you in bemusement. It wasn’t often he was shocked by someone’s behavior, but you were just so odd. It was, admittedly, amusing. Watching you squawk and try to smooth your ruffled feathers was like watching someone who’d tried to kill him choke on their own blood. Entertaining. Satisfying. Vaguely erotic.

“Are you okay?” You finally remembered to ask, reaching out to touch him again, as if to check him over. Ghost’s hands shot up, one wrapping around your wrist in a firm grip, the other moving to stop your dessert tray—which was tilting dangerously—from falling. He could feel your pulse thrumming beneath his finger tips, and the warmth of your skin seeped through his glove.

“M’fine,” he said shortly, voice deep and grumbly but not as hostile as usual. Simon’s influence, no doubt. Ghost almost rolled his eyes. His other half always banged on and on about treating ladies with proper respect. Ghost wasn’t particularly interested in sex with other people, preferring to fuck his own fist if the urge grew too great to ignore, but he thought about bending you over right here in this hallway and bullying Simon’s big cock into you, just to spite him.

“Oh! Thank you,” you said with a charming smile, entirely ignorant to the image he’d conjured up of you. One he found himself enjoying more than he’d thought he would. “I really am sorry,” you said for the third time, like a parrot echoing itself. Little bird indeed. “I’m such a klutz. Except for when I’m dancing. Then I’ve got at least a modicum of grace.”

Beneath his mask, Ghost raised a brow. Had he mistakenly given off the impression that he cared?

His silence was pointed, and you flushed deeper. You pushed the tray of brownies towards him, seemingly unphased by the grip he still had on it and your wrist. He let go.

“Go ahead, take it,” you said encouragingly, holding out the treat insistently. “It’s the least I can do to make up for ruining your shirt… I can always make more for Daddy another day.”

Simon’s cock twitched, and this time the dirty thoughts in their head were entirely his. Though Ghost could admit the thought of you calling him Daddy in that sweet little voice of yours, all innocent and sincere, was appealing. Perhaps there was something attractive about fucking another person after all.

“Don’t want any,” Ghost answered after a moment, and your face fell. But instead of taking his words for the dismissal they were, you perked back up and continued talking.

“Do you not like brownies? I can make you something else and come back tomorrow,” you offered, for some unknowable reason. Both Simon and Ghost were astounded the conversation had lasted this long, and worse yet, showed no signs of ending. “I can make lemon bars, white chocolate truffles, pudding, anything you’d like.. But nothing too fancy.” You giggled. No one had ever giggled in Ghost’s presence before. “I’m no professional baker. I just do it when the mood strikes, or when Daddy is craving something sugary. He’s the one who taught me to bake. Oh! Do you have any allergies? Nuts, gluten, anything? I don’t want to poison you…”

And on and on you went, rambling like Ghost was actually listening to you. Except that he was. Perhaps it was cruel curiosity, wanting to see how long you’d carry on making a fool of yourself. Or maybe it was Simon pitying you for the nerves in your voice, not wanting to interrupt you and make you more anxious. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that you were showing Ghost more kindness than he had ever received in his life.

Simon had experienced the joys of living, of companionship and love. Ghost had not, though he’d seen it all through their eyes. He hadn’t really thought that he was missing out on anything.

But now, with a lovely little dove like you offering to bake for him—not Simon, but Ghost—he thought he maybe he was, if just a tad. Especially if your pussy tasted as sweet as your baked goods smelled.

[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

[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”

[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

[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

[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.

[aquaticmercy]

Waste a Moment / Part 12

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.

Requested by :  @remoony

Word count : 2.8k

Note : Hi all!!! Got a lot of messages and comments in the last couple of days but have been busy so bear with me while I catch up! Please let me know if I miss anyone on the tags!!! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

"Out in the Dark"

Saturday evening.

Hours bled into an endless stream of time after he left, the lock on the door clicking like the final nail in the coffin. You’d felt your world shatter like brittle glass, splintering into a thousand jagged shards, each one a reflection of a future you’d foolishly imagined with him. 

You hadn’t just kicked him out of your home; you’d ripped him out of your life, your heart, leaving behind a cold void of absolutely fucking nothing.

You were starting back at square one. Again.

His voice still lingered, a ghost haunting the room, quiet and pleading, cracking with a fragility you’d never heard before. He’d tried to explain, hoping you might understand. 

But you weren’t going to give him the luxury of hope. Not anymore.

You could still remember how he looked at you then, eyes bottomless blue pit of despairs as he begged you to listen, to hear the truth he was too afraid to voice until it was too late. 

But all you could see was betrayal. 

You sank onto the couch, knees folding beneath you, arms crossing over your chest in a feeble attempt to hold yourself together. Your fingers dug into your sides as if you could press the splintered pieces of yourself back into place. 

Then, a sharp knock disrupted the veneer of calm you’d built around yourself. Startled, a jolt of white-hot fury flared up in you. 

Of course, he’d come back. 

You’d told him to leave, and he hadn’t listened. He never did. Did he think that if he could just say the right thing, everything would be okay?

“I told you to leave!” you yelled, your voice cracking under the strain of false strength.

After a moment’s hesitation, a familiar voice seeped through the door. “It’s me,” You heard through the door, “I… I heard what happened. I thought you might need a friend.”

You froze, the breath catching in your throat. 

It wasn’t Bucky.

It was Yelena.

How dare she show up here, now, pretending to be a friend when she’d known all along? She’d been part of the lie, part of the deception that destroyed the illusion of your waking nightmare. Sure, it explained why she was mad, why she looked like she would’ve killed Bucky if she could— but that was no excuse to be complicit for as long as she had.

“No,” you spat. “You don’t get to show up like everything’s fine. You knew, Yelena. You knew, and you didn’t say a word.”

If she had been hiding this from you, what else was a lie?

The silence was broken only by a weary sigh. “I was going to,” she admitted quietly. “I told him to, but he… he was scared. And I gave him time… I thought it should come from him.”

Her gaze fell to her feet, almost as if she couldn’t bear to look at the door. 

She knew she should have told you. But now, hearing all that joyous life drained from your voice… she wasn’t so sure if she could’ve.

Maybe she didn't tell you because she didn’t want to be the one to see your heart break. Now confronted with this, she realised that maybe all that anger, all that big talk to Bucky was… all a facade.

She started wondering, maybe, deep down, when the time came,— when her ultimatum needed to be fulfilled— if she would have faced you at all. Maybe she had given Bucky a week, more time than he deserved, because she needed time to brace herself for the fallout. And now that the moment was here... she realised she wasn’t ready after all.

She wasn’t ready to see you empty. Hollow. Broken.

Just as she couldn’t see you after your injuries.

In its own twisted way, it was a mercy to her that you didn't let her in, that she couldn't see the state you were in.

You laughed then, a bitter sound that tasted like ash on your tongue. “And look where that got us.”

Yelena leaned on your door, dropping down to the floor. She didn’t care if your neighbours walked on her like this— she just wanted to try to save a sliver of connection, any crumb she would give you.

She only ever wanted you to be happy.

“But it is real,” she insisted, her voice dropping to a whisper. It was a kind of sorrow you hadn’t heard from her before. She’s reverting back to the thick Russian accent, thicker than she’s had for years, in this moment of vulnerability. “The way he feels about you, even when I hated him for not telling you. I could see it in his eyes, in the way he said your name.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. She sounded like she was pleading, begging you to see something you couldn’t, wouldn’t allow yourself to see. 

“I knew he wasn’t kind to you before,” she continued, the words tumbling out. “But I think… I think he loved you then, too. Back then he… he always made sure there was always one of your favourite donuts left in the fridge. He made sure to always buy your favourite tea to stock up the training kitchen. He once asked me what… um… what your favourite flowers were so he could put it in a vase in the common room.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, the memory of his distant, haunted eyes flashing through your mind. 

After your memories were wiped, you spent so many nights staring into his piercing eyes as if it was a never-ending abyss, trying to find a way in, trying to reach the part of him that seemed determined to stay locked away. You’d thought you had. You’d thought you’d finally reached him. 

But you hadn’t. Not even close. 

“I don’t know if I can believe that,” you choked out. “I don’t even know what to believe anymore.”

“I’m not lying.” Yelena’s voice cut through your spiralling thoughts, but you had no reason to believe her. “The Bucky you told me made you feel safe— he’s real. Maybe I... I couldn’t bring myself to shatter the peace you found.”

She remembered all those years spent hoping Natasha was happy, that she was okay, that she was safe. And then, in an instant, all of that hope was stripped away.

Maybe it was the same with you. After your injuries and memory loss, you weren’t just a new beginning for Bucky, but for Yelena, too—an opportunity to feed her saviour complex. Maybe she needed an excuse to protect you from Bucky, who only ever wanted your happiness, too.

Maybe they had both been approaching this all wrong. Maybe she shouldn’t have sparred with him that night, leaving him bruised. Maybe she shouldn’t have antagonised him. Maybe she should have encouraged him, worked with him, instead of standing in his way.

You could feel the anger slipping away from your fingertips. You didn’t want to believe her, didn’t want to let that tiny flicker of hope take root. 

Because if you did, it meant facing the possibility that maybe, just maybe, there was something left to salvage. 

And that took work.

You were exhausted— all you did for months was work and work to get a tiny piece of yourself back. What if you just wanted to let go altogether?

“I should have told you sooner,” Yelena murmured, voice barely a whisper now, “We both should have told you sooner.” 

She never meant for you to find out this way—she had hoped that either she or Bucky could explain the context behind his actions. But now you've seen everything—the raw truth, stripped of memories or emotions to soften the blow. You couldn’t remember what you’d once felt for Bucky, couldn’t fill in the gaps on your own— and wouldn’t listen anymore.

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, hot and stinging as it traced the curve of your cheeks.

After what felt like an eternity, you heard her exhale, a soft, defeated sigh. “I’ll go,” she said quietly. “But… don’t let this destroy you both.”

Sunday.

The next day, Bucky stood outside Happy’s office at the compound, teeth clenched so tightly he could feel the strain in his temples. His body was hot with frustration, bitterness curling through him like smoke from a slow-burning fire that had been left for far too long. 

He hadn’t slept, hadn’t even bothered trying to—every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was you. 

The look on your face, the look of hurt and betrayal. The shock, the disbelief as you told him to leave. For the first time since he’d known you, you felt… small. 

That image had made a home in his mind, festering until he could feel it like a sickness spreading under his skin.

Now, out here in the hallway, he felt he was being torn apart from the inside out. His chest was heavy, his hands shaking with a rage that had no target. Every barrier he’d put up over the years to keep himself calm had crumbled. Now, his mere existence was just a raw, open wound, bleeding fury and self-loathing. 

He hated Happy for showing you the footage. He hated himself for letting it come to this. He hated fucking everything. But more than anything, he hated the truth he was beginning to confront, a splinter that he’d ignored until it was too deep to pull out.

With a deep breath, he pushed open the door, his metal hand slamming against the wood. The loud, brutal sound echoed through the room, and Happy looked up from his tablet. Sam, sitting across from him, raised an eyebrow..

“What the hell were you thinking?” Bucky’s voice was rough, nearly a growl, forcing the words through clenched teeth. “She wasn’t ready for that!”

Happy’s expression tightened as he set down the tablet. Sam turned back, arms folded across his chest, leaned back.

As Bucky's anger burned, he caught the look in Happy’s eyes—a flash of real fear, his line of sight fixed on Bucky’s metal arm with paranoia, shoulders closing in as if bracing for a blow. 

No.

His reaction pulled Bucky back from rage that had consumed him, a cold dread quickly replacing it instead. 

He’d seen that look— that fear— a thousand times as the Winter Soldier. 

On his victims.

He forced himself to breathe, to loosen his fists and soften his stance. He didn’t want anyone to fear him like that ever again. Not now. Not ever.

Especially not Happy, who only meant well. Not Happy, who cared about you. 

“Good morning to you, too, Buck,” Sam replied, tone sharp but calm, cutting through Bucky’s anger like a blade. “Maybe take a second before you start throwing blame around for your mess.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched tighter, a tendon twitching in his knuckles. He forced his gaze back to Happy. “I’m not blaming you,” he said, his voice calmly grating against the words. “But she didn’t need to see that.”

Happy looked down, a small look of misplaced guilt in his eyes. “I… I assumed she knew everything.”

“You can’t just assume these things,” Bucky was trying everything— everything in his power to stop the anger from bubbling.“You can’t just keep this from me.”

Beside them, Sam let out a short, bitter laugh, shaking his head. He looked pointedly at Bucky, an edge of irony in his otherwise cool voice. “You’re one to talk.”

Bucky opened his mouth to argue, to defend himself, but Sam raised a hand, silencing him with no room to protest.

“Look, man, I get that you didn’t want to hurt her,” Sam’s tone softened slightly, trying to cut through Bucky’s defences. “But you’ve been handling this wrong from the start.”

“I only wanted to protect her.” Bucky said, his tone tinged with sadness, by a guilt he didn’t want to acknowledge. “She’s been through enough.”

Sam’s expression hardened, the warmth fading from his eyes. “Protect her from what? The truth? From you?”

The words struck Bucky like a punch, leaving him exposed, vulnerable in a way he fucking hated. He knew Sam was right, but admitting that was like swallowing broken glass.

“I was going to tell her,” Bucky muttered, the words weak even to his own ears, flimsy excuses for his failure.

Sam’s gaze sharpened, eyebrows raised in doubt. “Were you?” he asked, voice laced with scepticism. “Or were you just hoping she’d never find out?”

Bucky stared at the floor, words caught in his throat as shame rose like a frostbite nipping on his cheeks. He knew the answer, even if he couldn’t bring himself to say it. 

He had hoped for that once, but that hope had been selfish, born out of a desperation he was too terrified to confront.

“If you love her,” Sam continued, “you’ve got to own up to it.”

“How do I even begin?” Bucky shook his head, hands fisting at his sides as he tried to hold onto the last shreds of his resolve. “I wasn’t in a good place back then. I didn’t know how to… handle things. I didn’t even want to let her in. But now? Now, I—”

Happy interrupted him, a gentle understanding in his voice. “Then tell her that.”

Bucky’s head lowered, eyes fixed on the ground. Sam shook his head, frustration etched deep in his features.

“Come on,” Sam said, voice softer but tainted with disappointment. “You can’t expect her to fill in the blanks. You can’t keep pretending like the past doesn’t matter just because it’s easier for you.”

Bucky’s fists tightened, his frustration slowly bleeding away, leaving behind a hollow space in his chest.

Finally, Bucky looked up, deep lines of exhaustion etched on his forehead. “What if she doesn’t want me anymore?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Sam furrowed his eyebrows, pity in his voice. “That’s not for you to decide.”

It wasn’t just anger anymore. It was an overwhelming regret, a bitter knowledge that he had robbed you of something he himself had fought for— choice. He had taken away your ability to choose for yourself, just as Hydra had taken it from him. They had stripped him of his free will, turned him into a weapon, a shell of a man. And now, unknowingly, in your most vulnerable state he’d done the same to you. 

It almost didn’t matter that he meant well.

He had spent so long trying to protect you from his past, trying to keep you safe from the darkness that lived inside him. But all he’d done was push you closer to his guilt.

He’d let his love for you warp into something possessive— he’d let it twist into the worst kind of love.

Suddenly, a piercing alarm blared throughout the compound. Red emergency lights started flaring as FRIDAY’s voice echoed coldly through the speakers. 

“Intruder detected at Hangar One.”

Bucky’s head snapped up, a sick, sudden dread forming in his gut. He and Sam exchanged a single glance before they broke into a sprint down the hallway. Behind them, Happy picked the tablet back up, “Show me cameras, FRIDAY.”

“Cameras in Hangar One are damaged,” FRIDAY’s voice cut in.

Bucky’s stomach twisted. He knew who it was before he even reached the hangar— knew it with a certainty that terrified him to his core.

They skidded to a stop at the open doors of the hangar just as the quinjet’s engines roared to life, its sleek outline gleaming under the overhead lights. There you were, your hands gripping the controls, eyes fixed on the holographic map.

For one heartbreaking second, you looked up just as Bucky reached the hangar entrance. 

Your eyes met his through the glass, and in that instant, Bucky felt his world collapse. 

The look on your face was one he knew he would never forget: a storm of emotions—hurt, betrayal, sorrow, and the faintest hint of something like goodbye.

He raised a hand as if he could reach you, almost pleading, but you were already looking away, turning back to the controls as if you couldn’t bear to see him one second longer.

“No,” he whispered, voice raw and breaking, the word swallowed by the whine of the engines.

The quinjet began to rise, and for a second, he thought you might stop. That maybe there was still time to make things right, to find the words— that you’d let him explain. But then the jet shimmered, the cloaking system engaged, vanishing into the air.

A haunting  silence filled the hangar as the engines faded to the distance.

Bucky’s arm dropped, his chest feeling like it had been ripped open. He felt Sam’s hand on his shoulder, but it did little to stop the despair clawing through him. 

He had lost you before.

But this time, he was afraid he might have lost you forever.

-to be continued...

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@greatenthusiasttidalwave @avatarofthetimelords @bckynatt @winchestert101 @zemosprincesa 

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@one-lengthiness36

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[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.”

[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?”

[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 ❤️‍🩹

[illusioninfnty]

Zombies Are My Sweetest Slaves!

જ⁀➴ Zombie Apocalypse : Day 27

feat. Simon "Ghost" Riley ᯓ★ Oh no! Your boyfriend got bit by a zombie! Good thing he still knows how to pleasure you!

warnings! : NSFW 18+, zombie!Ghost, technically monsterfucking, dubcon bc he is a zombie, humping, unprotected (and unsanitary) sex, creampie

ᯓ★ kinktober m.list || read on ao3

You close your book shut as you anxiously look outside of your window. The sun was setting quickly, and Simon still wasn’t back yet from his last supplies run.

He always came back before dark.

You contemplate going out on your own, but then shake your head at that idea. Simon could handle himself, and it was completely possible he just got caught up in getting extra supplies. You didn’t hold many survival skills like he did—if you left on your own, there was a high chance you weren’t coming back.

You bite your lip, beginning to pace around the living room. You and Simon were thankfully able to find an unoccupied house to hunker down in, away from the cities where the infected gather together.

“Fuck it,” you mutter under your breath, about to go out, until a bang sounds on the front door. You run over to it hurriedly, looking out the bay window to see a heaving Simon leaning against it. You open the door, practically falling over with the way he topples onto you. Thankfully, you’re able to pull him inside just enough to get the front door locked and shut. You kneel on the ground, pulling Simon into your lap.

As your arms pull away from him to get a closer look, you realize that he’s covered in blood. The blood soaks your hands as you realize there’s a lot more of it than you thought, his black shirt masking most of the red blood.

“Si, what happened?” you ask, your hands frantically searching his body for a wound.

“Fucker got me from behind,” he grunts out. His head falls back in pain as your hands feel around his sides. You lift his shirt up and gasp as the oozing bite stares back at you. The veins around it show through his skin in a sickly purple color, and he breathes in heavily as you touch the area around it.

Your eyes well up with tears as you lift a shaky hand to your mouth.

As the seconds tick by, Simon gets worse for wear. The pupils of his eyes begin to turn a milky white, and the bulging purple veins spread to the rest of his body.

“W-what do we do?” you ask, voice shaking.

Simon grunts again, his mouth opening and closing without any words coming out. “Sh-shhh,” he repeats, only sounds coming from his now decaying mouth.

Tears fall from your eyes uncontrollably as you sob over your boyfriend’s body. You know that Simon’s about to turn—it’s inevitable. But you also don’t have the strength in you to kill him. There’s nothing left for you in this world without him. You’d rather let him have you than put a bullet to his head.

As Simon begins to make sounds that are no longer human, gargles and groans coming from his mouth, you prepare yourself for your own death. Instead, you’re met with something else.

Something hard against you.

“Si…?” you open your eyes and gasp at the sight before you. 

Simon’s dick stands hard and at attention, bulging through his pants. You blink. You didn’t even realize that the undead could even get hard.

Your boyfriend jostles himself around a bit, moving more sluggish than usual. Despite that, he’s still able to manhandle you, pulling himself on top of you.

He grunts as he begins to rut himself against you, his hardness pressing against your cunt.

“Oh, Si,” You raise your hand to his face, rubbing a thumb over his cheek. “It’s still you, isn’t it?”

He grunts, and you could’ve sworn he nodded.

“I guess we haven’t done it in a while…is that what you want? To fuck me, baby?” you chuckle.

Simon responds with a thrust of his hips. His jaw hangs open slightly, and some drool spills out of the corner of his lips and onto your arm, but you don’t mind it in that moment—not when your zombified boyfriend who you thought was about to kill you, actually just wants to fuck you instead.

You start to grind yourself against him, working to pull your pants and underwear down your legs. It’s a bit difficult with practically all of Simon’s weight resting on top of you, but you eventually manage to pull it all down, the fabric pooling at your ankles.

A growling sound escapes him as your bare cunt is revealed to him, and you’re pretty sure that you know exactly what he’s trying to get across to you.

Swiftly, you work to undo his own pants, shoving them down to his knees. Simon’s cock springs up as you lower his underwear to rest around his thighs. Precum beads at the tip, and his cock throbs as he clumsily pushes it against your cunt. He attempts to thrust but he keeps missing your slit, grunts of frustration leaving him.

“Here, baby, let me help you,” you say as you take his cock into your hand. You give it a few strokes before guiding him to your entrance, already wet with your own arousal. His thick tip slides into you with ease and you moan, throwing your head back as you grasp onto his arms.

A strangled grumbling sound escapes from Simon as his hips begin to rut against you. His pace is slow and uneven, but his fat cock filling your insides up so nicely makes up for it.

“There you go, feels so good, Si,” you whine, thrusting your own hips up to meet his own. The sounds of the skin-to-skin contact ring out through the house, only second to the sounds of pleasure that come from yourself and Simon.

You stare up at your boyfriend as he fucks his cock into you, and you can’t help but feel like you truly see him, Despite his zombified state, milky white eyes, graying skin, and blood everywhere, you still see hints of your Simon in him. His grip on you is tight, fully encompassing, just like how Simon always liked to hold you in all hours of the night.

“I love you, Si,” you tell him, tenderly. The last time you told him was just this morning when he left for his supply run. You never would’ve guessed that would be the last time you would go through your routine, suddenly craving the previous monotony that you were frustrated by.

As you whisper those words to Simon, his hips start moving in a frenzy, grunts coming from him at a more rapid pace.

You throw your head back against the floor as his cock starts to press into places deep inside you, signaling your orgasm on. Your nails dig into his shirt as you feel yourself cum, your legs wrapping themselves around his waist as he continues to pound into you.

“Simon!” you yell out, and it’s accompanied with a low moan of his own. After a few more thrusts, you suddenly feel your boyfriend release his load into you, his thick and warm cum spreading all over your insides.

You pull yourself away from him, unconfident that he would do so on his own. Just as you suspected, his arms reach out to pull you closer.

“Not yet.” You lightly smack him away, watching as his cum oozes out of your swollen, achy cunt. “I’m still sensitive.” A groan leaves him as he presses his weight against you and you roll your eyes at his antics, sighing.

You let a silent moment pass as you stroke the back of his neck, ignoring all of the bodily liquids that cover you. Simon never once moves to attack you, something that you are incredibly grateful for—and something that makes you hopeful for your future.

“Si,” you start, swallowing, “I think we can make this work.” You cup his cheek and caress it gently, not caring about the blood and drool that sticks to your hand.

Simon lets out a long, deep grunt, nuzzling into your neck. You smile and let out a laugh, as his nose and heavy breath tickles your skin. It sounds like you’ve gotten his approval.

[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.”

[blingblong55]

Soft things- Simon "Ghost" Riley NSFW

Kinktober Day 12

Based on a request: Soft dom Ghost!Soft dom Ghost!Soft dom Ghost!Soft dom Ghost!Soft dom Ghost!Soft dom Ghost!Soft dom Ghost! Thank you and have a lovely day ---- F!Reader, MDNI, 18+, soft dom!Ghost, sub!reader, unprotected!sex, P-in-V ----

Fuck you're such a good girl when you're here with him like this. "Y/N," he murmurs, his voice low as his eyes trace your figure sprawled across his lap. His fingers glide from your cheek to your chin, firm but gentle, coaxing you to meet his gaze.

With a subtle shift, his thumb hooks beneath your chin, tilting your head back so he can take you in fully as if he’s seeing you with fresh eyes. Ghost still hadn’t quite gotten used to it—maybe he never would.

Did it mess with his head? Maybe. But that’s why he kept you close.

What started as a clear-cut dynamic between dom and sub blurred when you began sharing a space. Now, thoughts of returning home—to you—scratched at the back of his mind in ways he didn’t expect. It was meant to be simple, a release, not something that stirred up feelings. Feelings Ghost had long since buried.

He never dealt with emotions—never wanted to. It wasn’t in him to try. To him, people were dangerous. They brought failure and vulnerability. And were they caring about someone? That was a weakness that could get you killed.

"Look at me." His tone is firm, but there’s an underlying edge, as his thumb drags over your lower lip, slow and deliberate.

You’re stunning to him, and that’s what throws him off balance. Ghost, always in control, was softening in ways that scared him. But for you? He was willing to let that iron grip on himself slip. Patience, something that had thinned over the years, stretched further than he thought possible for your sake. Maybe you were worth that.

"Open your mouth, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice softer now, luring you in with its gentleness. His thumb presses against your parted lips, brushing over your tongue. "You look so damn good like this." A pause. "But don’t think I’m going soft, you cheeky thing."

His hands roamed over your body, firm but with a surprising tenderness, like he’s trying to balance between the roughness he knows and the gentleness you seem to pull out of him without even trying.

"Y/N," he murmurs, his gruff voice sending shivers down your spine. "Bloody hell, you're gorgeous."

Ghost's fingers trace the swell of your breasts, pausing to circle your nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt. He can feel your nipples hardening under his touch, a surge of satisfaction coursing through him.

"I want to see you," he growls, tugging at the hem of your shirt. "Take it off."

You comply, lifting your arms and allowing Ghost to peel the garment away. Your breasts bounce free, and he can't help but admire their fullness, their softness. He cups them in his large hands, kneading the flesh, relishing the way you arch into his touch.

"Fuck, Y/N," he breathes, leaning down to capture one of your nipples between his lips. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive bud, reveling in your soft moans and the way your fingers tangle in his hair.

His hands continue to explore your body, sliding down to your thighs and back up again, mapping every curve and dip. He wants to commit you to memory, to burn you into his mind so he can remember you even when you're apart.

"Y/N," he whispers against your skin, his voice rough with desire. "I need you."

You respond by rolling your hips, grinding against the growing bulge in his jeans. The friction sends sparks of pleasure through him, and he groans, his grip on your thighs tightening.

"Yes, Ghost," you pant, your voice breathy and desperate. "Please, I need you too."

Ghost doesn't waste any time. He quickly strips you both of the remaining clothing, his eyes never leaving your body as he takes in every inch of your exposed skin. Then, he settles between your thighs, the head of his cock nudging against your slick entrance.

Ghost's cock nudges against you, and he can't help but groan at the feeling. He’s hard, achingly so, his length throbbing with the need to be inside you.

"Fuck, Y/N," he growled, his hips pressing forward, seeking the warmth of her body. "You're so wet for me, aren't you?"

You nod, cheeks flushed, eyes half-lidded with desire. Ghost can feel the heat radiating from you, the way your body welcomes him, only stoking his fire.

He pushes forward, sliding into you inch by inch, until he's fully buried inside. The sensation is overwhelming—your walls gripping him tightly, making him feel like he belongs there like he’s found his place.

"God, you feel perfect," he rasps, his hips beginning to move in a steady rhythm.

Ghost loses himself in the way you respond to his touch, in the sounds you make as he thrusts deeper into you. He wants to memorize everything—every gasp, every sensation—so he can replay it later when you're apart.

As he moves within you, the tension builds, the pressure in his gut tightening with every stroke. He shifts slightly, angling his hips, searching for that perfect spot that will make you cry out. When he finds it, the change in your breath and the way you cling to him tells him he’s got you.

"That's it, Y/N," he encourages, voices low and rough. "Come for me."

His movements grow erratic as his release approaches. His hips snap forward, driving into you with a force that has you gasping and arching beneath him. The sound of skin against skin fills the air, a raw, primal rhythm that matches the pounding of your heart.

"Fuck, Y/N," he grunts, fingers digging into your hips, holding you firmly in place. "You're so tight, so perfect."

He feels the way your walls flutter around him, a telltale sign that you're close. Determined to push you over the edge, Ghost thrusts harder, each movement rougher, more intense. He wants to watch you fall apart beneath him.

"Come for me, Y/N," he growls, voice commanding and low. "I want to feel you come undone."

His release is just around the corner, the heat coiling tight at the base of his spine, ready to snap. But he holds back, refusing to give in until you’ve reached your peak.

Adjusting his angle slightly, he grinds against your clit with each thrust, the friction sending you over the edge. You cry out, body arching off the bed as you cling to him desperately.

"Ghost!" you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "Oh god, don't stop!"

He doesn't. Ghost continues his relentless rhythm, his hips slamming into yours with a force that makes the bed shake. He feels you tightening around him, your body tensing as you teeter on the edge of orgasm.

"That's it, Y/N," he growls, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his release. "Come for me, let go."

With one final, powerful thrust, he drives into you, and you shatter. Your body convulses beneath him, your walls clenching around his cock like a vice. The sensation is overwhelming, and with a groan that sounds almost like a roar, Ghost follows you over the edge.

He collapses on top of you, his body trembling from the intensity of his release. Ghost can feel your breath, still coming in short, sharp gasps as you recover from your orgasm.

Ghost pulls out and rolls onto his side, drawing you close to his chest. His heart pounds, adrenaline still surging through his veins. You’re both spent, your breath hot against his skin.

"That was…fucking incredible," he murmurs, voice hoarse and low. "Y/N, you're amazing."

He presses a tender kiss to your temple, marveling at the softness of your skin, the warmth of your body nestled against his. Ghost had never been the type for cuddling, but with you, it feels right—like he could stay here forever, holding you close, shielding you from the world.

As you both lie there, basking in the afterglow, Ghost's mind drifts. He thinks about how things have changed between you—how what started as purely physical had grown into something more. Something deeper, more meaningful.

@liyanahelena @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @frizzseaberries @frazie99 @idklols @katybaby00 @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @Llelannie @Macnches2 @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @pinkblossomsworld @lovelyvqer @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @born4biriyani @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @iruzias @sleepyycatt @noodlezz-bedo @trinthealternate @azkza @VampyTheGoth

[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.

[kitkat13001]

*:･ﾟ✧*: 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚏𝚞𝚕

>> sanemi shinazugawa x pillar!reader

>> inspired by this

“you did WHAT?!”

you swear you can see fumes coming out of sanemi’s ears and nose. 

“sacchan, i—”

“you are unbelievable! you know what kind of shit i do for you that i don’t do for anyone else?! and this is all i have to fuckin’ show for it!”

you stifle a snorting laugh into your palm, sitting at the table like a child being lectured by their parent as sanemi paces in front of you, absolutely livid. 

he whips around, violet eyes narrowing at you with disdain at your poorly-restrained giggles. 

“you think this is fucking funny?” he demands, seething. 

“a little,” you admit, speech muffled by the palm you’re still laughing into. 

his eye twitches. 

“i’m leaving you.”

you burst out into raucous laughter.

“i’m fucking leaving you!" his serious tone only spurs to crack you up even more. "good luck finding another husband who’ll wash your haori after every mission and cook your favorite dishes every night and watch your back on missions and brush your hair in the morning and—”

he goes on listing every doting action he takes for you, yelling over your obnoxious laughter. 

when he’s done, he just fixes you with a withering stare. 

“i hate you.”

“sacchan,” you gasp for breath between furious giggles, “all i did was ask for some help lifting something.”

“you asked a man!” he shouts. “you’re married to me and you asked some random-ass guy for help lifting some shit at the market!”

“why didn’t you lift it yourself?” he continues, fuming. “you’re a pillar, for fuck’s sake! you’re strong enough to kill demons, but you can’t lift an end table?”

“not all that way!” you protest, “it’s a long walk from the market back here.”

sanemi crosses his arms, face red and flustered from all the yelling. he turns his head indignantly. 

“you should’ve asked me.”

your heart stutters a little at his petulant tone. he's jealous. how cute.

you stand up from your seat, ambling over and wrapping your arms around him from the side. your speech is muffled against his muscular bicep when you speak, tone high and sweet.

“i’m sorry, sacchan. i promise that next time i'll be a good spouse and bring you with me to the market. i'll let you lift aaaall of my heavy purchases, i swear.”

he's stone-still in your arms, but if you look up you can see the ghost of a satisfied smile on his face, hidden beneath his normal scowl.

he huffs. “hmph. you better. and stop that laughing, i’m still pissed.”

[oobbbear]

This rant has 1 target audience and it’s me sorry I like to talk about my unfinished/abandoned stories like they’re successful tv shows and I’m the director getting interviewed about the little details of said show

I love afterland postal so so so much you don’t know how hard it was for me to cut it, but it got to the point that it’s effecting my mental health so I had to stop it. His story in the afterlife is a healing journey, so for that healing journey to be effective I have to make the downfall in his past life hurt, like, HURT hurt, and I went a bit too far that and focused on it a bit too much that I was not working on the healing part anymore. Everyday I regret the making of water angel cause it ended being my fav instead of the protagonists and it being the physical manifestation of death made me focus on the downfall of the story too much, until it literally just crumbled to the ground. If I pick back up Dolus’s story one day I will cut out water angel entirely and maybe most part of his past life, focusing mainly on the afterlife part and how he recovers/deal with his past traumas and rid of bad habits. I want to draw this gremlin again so so bad.

Afterland Postal is a story about learning to love life through death. I like to draw Dolus with CT moon and Callisto sitting together because all three of their stories are about “learning to love life again through the death”. In Dolus’s case is his literal death. For CT moon is him fantasizing death. And for Callisto is through the death of her old life.

After the “death” all three of learned to love themselves again by traveling. They see the world in different perspectives, goes out of their bubbles and get a taste of the wild possibilities of what life has to offer.

For Dolus, I specifically placed him in this post office that delivers mails to the living plane so he can run around experiencing the world but doesn’t have to deal with life? One of his big thing is that he enjoys simply existing, he likes observing the world, feel his surroundings, I had an entire chapter that’s describing how he sees the world through his 5 senses. The feelings are the only thing he enjoyed about life, now he’s a ghost life doesn’t have effect on him anymore, he can really slow down sit down and look at the world he didn’t have the time to look at before, see what he missed and what he may have never be able to see.

For CT moon is basically all described in that If my world goes Bang comic.

Callisto is a different case cause she doesn’t die, strongest fucking character in my stories she survived and very passionate about living. In the original plan after her finding Hester and having Hester’s soul freed, she’s gonna go and travel the world. She has been living in this little house in the middle of nowhere for good half of her life, having her burned down her past and moving on to a new one is good for her. I had a lot a lot of sketches that is just her traveling, I used this as a chance to expand on this weird magical world she lives in, so many cool places and concept. (Also she started dating people again wohoo) I really wish I didn’t burn myself out after that animatic this story would have been so fun to work on.

SPEAKING OF TRAVELING AS A HEALING MECHANISM☝️I m gonna go on a mad Orange Knife spoiler rant since I don’t think there’s a single soul still reading this thing. In Moondust & Natto plot, Moondust really really wanted to see the world with Natto, she loved the world she loved life, in her eyes the outside world is a struggle but one she would fight for because the sunset is beautiful and the grass is soft and for that the hardship is worth it, she loved the world so so much and she wanted to have Natto experience it too. Freedom was a large part of her soul and being add to OK’s collection permanently took that away. She never got to see it again not even the part of her that got added to worm made it out, her soul is killed long ago and body died with the fire that led to Worm and the remaining crew’s freedom, which honestly I think she would be happy knowing that her death freed Natto in the end. She would be mad knowing the person who killed her is freed too but she would understand if she knows Worm’s situation better. After Natto is free I’d like to think he carries a piece of Moondust with him so in his heart he completed their dream, and they can finally experience the world together.

It’s 2am and nothing is making sense sent post to tumblr.com go