#i will finish this whenever i can get ghost's ARM RIGHT FUCK

[gold0kapi]

[screampied]

‘ HIT OR MISS ?! ’

𝜗℘ feat. toji, sukuna, choso, nanami, gojo. letting them hit ‘n rating their pull out games.

warnings. fem! reader, unprotected, weak pull out games, doggy, mıssionary, mating prēss, cowgirl, brēeding mentions, praise, dirty talk, impact play, size kinks, pússy whipped men, premature ejac, dumbificafion, size differences, spıt.

GOJO ☆

he doesn’t last a single second. gojo has the weakest pull out game—there’s no debate.

he’s got a glowering pout forming on his glossed quivering lips as he holds your hips in place. “fuuuck,” he chews the inside of his cheek, gazing at the way your cunt easily swallows him. gojo’s angered red tip thoroughly swivels around inside before stretching you out, wearing you thin. just minutes ago, he was talking your ear off on how he was gonna be the best you’ve ever had, how you were gonna moan his name until your voice gave out, and yet - he folded. with snowy brows curling toward each other to form a furrow, gojo moans at the incoming pangs of waves surging through his body. “babyyy, ‘s so fuckin’ good. don’t think ‘m gonna last.”

“i told you, ‘toru,” you huff out a single breath at him, feeling his brief pounds of weight stick against your skin like it was adhesive. you’re holding back moans by sinking the keen edges of your teeth into the skin of your lips. “ ‘s okay, touch me more though,” and his face flushes at your sudden arms slinging over his stiff shoulders. as he’s thrusting in and out, sloppy wet hits of sounds ring through one ear and out the other. your voice was so sweet to him, any word you spoke had him even more whipped than he already was. “don’t be shy.”

“ngh, god you’re so hot,” he whimpers into your neck, his haughty persona immediately fading. gojo shivers a bit, grinding his body up against yours until the bed underneath you starts to creak. shaky shivering breaths ghost down against your skin before his pace grows weak, humping into you with his mouth prying open. “fuck, fuck. ‘m gonna make a mess,” and a gasp wretches from his throat as he locks eyes with you. “c- can i make a mess on you? p- please.”

“go ‘head,” you coo, cupping both warm sides of his face. you’re met with crystalline blue eyes that forevermore got lost with yours.

he’s so feral, feeling himself stick against you each time he moves. both bodies were one as they collide together in bliss. his pace grows more and more frantic before he’s biting into your neck to conceal his candied sweet whimpers. “you’re such a baby,” you tease, running a few fingers down his faded undercut. oh, he always loved whenever you did that. gojo shudders, weighty cock expanding through your walls as your digits roamed. “make a mess, ‘toru. ‘s okay, promise.”

“i- i’m not a baby,” he tries to chastise, yet he’s the one pouting and whimpering into your ear the moment he finishes abruptly. gojo’s knees give out almost right away. it’s cute how he tries to keep up with his smug façade, but now, he’s a mess. all you had to do was run a few fingers down his undercut as he’s finishing inside of you and he was finish. gojo whines, growing hard as his bright blue eyes takes in your beauty — you’re so pretty being underneath him like this. the melting crown of his cock smacks up against your g-spot over and over until you’re seeing nothing but pure white. “ngh, fuck. squeeze me s- so tight. sloppy fuckin’ cunt,” he sucks his teeth, feeling himself not only shoot blanks but shoot ropes of hot cum deep into your womb.

he reached a potent state and you moan right along with him, gently seeping your teeth into the soft edges of his neck. white lashes stick shut against his eyes—glossy and murky. he can barely look at you because he’s embarrassed. gojo groans, realizing he came quicker than he intended. it’s warm, your pussy constricts around his length even still while he’s stuffing you full of his seed.

“toru, baby,” you hum, trying to get his attention, cupping his face once more. you then bring a quick kiss toward his lips. he moans at the taste of you, briefly closing his eyes as your hips steady itself. a raw whimper dies from the back of his throat as he allows you to take control, breathy lungs preparing to collapse as he’s just dumping such mass amounts of cum into your greedy cunt. “good boy, thaaat’s it,” you purr to him, feeling his head shift and lean into your touch. he was so weak for you—even if he never admitted it. gojo’s lip quivers whenever you praise him. he’s a wreck, sweat coats near the bridge of his nose as he whines, a sudden salty taste lingering on the back of his tongue. his cock remains still, swollen tip red and flushed by the crown. as he’s sat upright, hovering over you, his body twitches and your eyes glance down toward his exposed perky nipples.

“heh, w- what’s with that look, angel?” he sheepishly pants, flaccid cock plugging you full even still after he finished just seconds ago.

your stare—you looked hungry for more. gojo nervously laughs until he stares at his pecs too. his nipples were pink and swollen. “mhh,” you leisurely lean into him, latching your plump lips onto one of his pecs. he moans, still feeling sensitive from his recent release but your lips—he was even more sensitive. your tongue rolls around his nipple before you suck hard, closing your eyes and sliding your free hand down his chest.

“god, you’re kinda kinky today,” he tries to joke. but there was no joke—because gojo whines the second he feels himself grow hard again. and that’s right when he knew, he was about to cum yet again. “o- oh fuck.”

TOJI ☆

“bend over f’me,” he gruffs and your ass is met with a rude spank once he flips you over on your chest. the second your left ass cheek gets met with the front of toji’s bare open palm, you moan. “mhm, don’t get shy. let’s see that arch again,” and your face gets smushed right in between the crimson colored silk sheets. on command, your hips raise up and you lean into his roughly smooth touch. “atta girl, let’s see my favorite wet pussy.”

“t- tojiiii,” you drag out his name, sucking in an incoming breath. it was almost embarrassing how much he made you clench, how much he made you pulse. he rubs a palm against the stinging part of your ass before aligning his leaky tip. your cunt was soaked, profusely sweltering hot with your own slippery slick. he licks his lips at the sight, tip of his tongue swiping against his scar as he smacks his fat cock against your puffed folds. “don’t tease me, p- please.”

a dark throaty cackle leaves from his lips as he leans down, staring at your drooling cunt before spitting right down between your slit. “quiet, baby girl. i’ll fuckin’ tease ya if i want,” and you moan, feeling the fat pad of his thumb smear the lustrous trail of saliva near your hole and back down towards your clit. you whimper, feeling your thighs jitter in pleasure at just how nasty he really was. “my my, look at this pretty girl down here cryin’ for more of me,” he rasps, gathering another wad of saliva before spitting straight onto your sopping cunt. he snickers, rubbing the head of his mushroom tip around your opening before finally inserting himself inside. “don’t know who’s fuckin’ whinier. you or this crybaby of a pussy, heh.”

toji’s so big, so fucking big. without a doubt he’s a packer, stretching your cunt open in all the right ways and angles. within minutes, your jaw’s already dangling open - it’s stupid, you’re stupid.

with every milliseconds that passes—his cockhead continues to repeat itself, thrashing and french kissing up near the throbbing bulb of your sensitive clit. your jaw tightens as he’s mercilessly rutting into you, sharp hips giving you crazed whiplash. “fuck, fuck,” you whimper, gasping once he grabs one of your wrists, restraining it around your back. your limbs grew knobbly as the heavy base of his cock smacks against your ass. you’re dizzy, insanely so—you whine, trying to fit the bawled fist of your hand into your mouth. but alas, it’s to no avail because you’re left drooling, feeling your eyes roll back and only hearing the squelching sounds of your needy gripping cunt. “fuck me, toji. right there, ‘s fuckin’ big.”

“yeah, yeah. perfect fit just for you, baby,” he groans, his palm swatting against the fat of your ass again. this time, it’s not so rough. the tender feeling of the hit makes you whine. arching your back out a bit more, he feels your pussy squeeze around him and his ravened brows curl up together. “shit, y’er already pretty but you’d look even prettier with my cum drippin’ out of you,” another grunt scratches at his throat. toji’s sharp hips were so unapologetically mean, each snap of his body makes you jerk forward and back into him. it’s so quick, just a few solid deep thrusts and he was so close to pumping you full. you don’t know why, but the thought of toji pouring such deep sultry amounts of cum into you makes your mouth water.

he’s got a horrible pull out game and he knows it too—but he could really care less. toji’s got the stamina equivalent to a horse, he’s drilling you in your own bed at full speed, watching as you fill the room up with your desperate sweet moans. as he’s ravaging your swollen walls, he reels you back into his sculpted pelvis once he sees and feels you trying to crawl away. “nuh uh,” and you gasp once he grabs you by the throat — gingerly, a few thick fingers wrap around your neck as he pulls you back. “c’monnn, big girls don’t chicken out. get the fuck back here, princess.”

“hngh, toji,” you whimper, suddenly feeling his hips slow down. his rhythm loses its haste for a moment before he groans. with his head tossing itself back, his clashing rutting hips slam right into you one last time. it takes you a moment to realize he’d just came inside—creamy gooey loads dribble into you almost immediately and you’ve never felt more full. he hisses, openly staring at your dehydrated cunt as it slurps him full. the noises, it’s so wet and saturated—you didn’t believe that was you at first. your eyes were drooping downward as you’re idly slumped forward with your ass still raised in the air. “fuck,” you whine, hearing him all of a sudden grow quiet. toji’s warm hot wads of cum fill you up so good that it starts to spill out all down the undersides of your thighs. it’s a mess—and he can’t take his eyes off you. his angry reddened tip continues to jolt itself in and out before only seconds later, he pulls out.

so much was stuffed into you that it’s spilling right back out. gooey ropes that plug inside ooze out of your hole and he snickers. toji huskily groans, using a plump circled thumb to rub the excess amounts of his seed against the outer part of your pussy. “damn,” he huffs, imagining what you’d taste like along with the mixture of his cum that’s trickling down your clit. you even had the nerve to wriggle your ass in front of him. toji hums, squeezing your ass before admiring at how good he’s stuffed you. toji releases his grip leaning down, giving the right cheek of your ass a kiss. “heh, so. you are on the pill right, baby?”

“w- what pill?”

“………”

CHOSO ☆

you tell him he can go inside and his face lights up almost right away.

choso wants to do his very best. he takes pleasing you very seriously. and of course, once the time comes—he practically begs for you to ride him. he just had to see your face while you’re on top, straddling him.

“tell me if it hurts, ‘kay?” he mutters, soft yet rough hands maneuvering circles against your back. choso’s touch was always gentle—he treated you like porcelain, like glass. docile dark irises meet yours as you’re hovering over his sheeny tip that’s glistening with pre-cum. rutting back and forth against his swollen peeling cockhead, you watch as choso bites his lip. “fuuuck,” he peers down, staring at the way your slobbering cunt was just eager to take him inside. “i- i wanna make sure you feel good, baby. don’t care if i don’t finish.”

your heart flutters at his words — oh, he was always so considerate. to choso, your pleasure was his pleasure.

as you gently brush up your hips against him, his cock slowly buries its way inside. immediately, he’s smothered with your warmth that’s welcoming him and it makes him whine. “i’ll tell you if it hurts. promise,” you whisper against the soft shell of his ear. a rippling wave of goosebumps ran down his body at your voice. the sloppy grip of your cunt makes him moan, grabbing onto your hip. wasting no time, you bite your lip—preparing to take him fully. he sinks all the way in until it’s a brief ‘pop’ sound that occurs the moment you’re sat right on his thickset base. “i’ll go nice ‘n slow, choso,” you murmur to him, holding his flushed cheeks. his hair was unkempt and messy, long darkened strands outgrown and running down his eyes. he’s so pretty, especially up close.

choso moans once your sweet lips press against the bridge of his nose—near his mark. he loves your kisses.

he could drown in them, just like he could drown in your wet cunt. it doesn’t even have to take him that long, because within a snap—choso’s already pussy drunk. just a few seconds inside and it was a wrap for him. “oh, oh my god,” he leans back, his abs flexing within each yanking pull of his muscles. he was ripped and you couldn’t help but skim a few teasing fingers down his pecs. so ripped, a few veins that prod into his skin feel against your touch and he whimpers. you were so soft and warm inside that he felt the brief gape of your pussy trying to swallow him whole and it felt so good. too good. “baby, ‘m sorry. ‘m sorry, fuck.”

throwing your arms over his broad tense shoulders, you giggle with a head tilt. “for what?” and already, there’s a nice sheet of sweat racing down the sides of his face. choso’s hair that’s usually in two ponytails was loosely down. he looked pretty, long hair flows down his back and dances in the wind at every unsteady movement. your hips were his weakness—you rode him so good every time that it left him almost speechless.

choso hiccups. “s- sorry for,” and he forgot why he was even apologizing—your cunt was just that good. its enticing grip had him whipped and strained inhales continue to rip out of his lungs by force. dark lengthy lashes glue shut as he holds onto your hips, feeling his mouth pry itself open. “i love you, i love you b- baby, don’t stop fuckin’ me please. w- what was i saying?”

“you’re so cute. i love you too,” you pepper kisses all over his face, quickening your hips just a bit more. he moans, feeling his face grow flushed. oh, he was embarrassed. even more embarrassed as he was earlier. as his fat swollen cock continues to run through your insides, choso tries to cover his face with his hands. once his palms feels against his face, they feel so hot. his own heat radiates from him and he whimpers. “aw, don’t hide from me, ‘cho. it’s okay,” you reassure him, pulling his hands away. with a bashful expression, he wraps his arms around your waist again. he’s so clingy, holding you tight and pulling you into his chest. your bouncing against his lap makes him dizzy. his whimpers against your earlobe grow louder until the time comes where he’s finally stuffing you full.

whenever choso came, it was a lot.

the curse whines into your neck as he’s pouring such gluey amounts into you. his ears continuously ring at the sounds of him spurting right into you, not missing at all. with ease, he’s plunging such amounts of sticky seed into you until he can’t anymore. it makes his head spin and his heart race, you were dangerous—at least, in this case, your cunt was.

he’s got quite the weak pull out game, and of course—whenever you said he can finish inside, he’d never ever miss. choso’s jaw tightens before his eyes grow insignificantly droopy that they hang low. such filthy thoughts foil at his brain as his blushing tip remains buried into your now filled up pussy. he wants to stay like this forever, the thought of pulling out makes him cutely scowl. “baby,” he inhales, still having a secure arm around your torso. choso held you close to him, still shaking as he’s still pouring thick satiny ropes into your womb. it’s an entire mess—so much that it spills down your thighs. he uses a thumb to smear it against your skin before having a pussy drunk grin. “i .. i wanna marry you, baby. please.”

SUKUNA ☆

with sukuna—there’s no such thing as a pull out game. he’s a demon, and more importantly, he’s a demon in bed too.

“i’m gonna get ya pregnant,” he groans, and each time he spills yet another hot load into you, he repeats that same sentence again. “you’d be such a pretty queen,” sukuna snarls, sharp fingertips softly raking down your exposed spine. you’re laid on your chest, having your face being shoved between two fat positioned pillows. muffled moans escape out of your throat as he’s fucking you silly. a big hand of his claws into your hair, tugging firmly at a few roots that grip into your scalp. you whimper, the slanting arch in your back deepening its height before he spanks you. “ugh, such a sloppy girl today. pretty cunt just loves sluttin’ itself out on me.”

sukuna’s voice was deep—you felt yourself pulse between your legs whenever he spoke in that rough low tone.

his thick cock was so big, so so big. and that’s just one—you didn’t wanna think what it’d be like to take two. even with prep, it took you a while to adjust to his delicious size. as he’s haphazardly pounding you into the sage-colored sheets, you whimper out sweet cries that fall on deaf ears as he’s practically splitting you open each and every single time.

“kuna, sukuna, fuck,” you babble out, your eyes widening to the size of saucers once his lengthy dick thrashes up against that spot. he’s a lot bigger than you, his frame ultimately towers over you and you even get wet from his shadowing silhouette. your mouth opens and more spews of whines leave you as he accelerates his hips ever further. the bed screams, each creak sounds like it’s gonna be its last and you were almost positive it was preparing to break. “more, more please.”

“tch. you should see yourself,” the curse grunts, a sly smile contorting against the corners of his mouth. with the way your pussy tightens around him, he pivots his hips, watching as you gasp in awe at his deep angle. “mm, right here, huh. such a sensitive girl. ‘m gonna give you another fill. you’d like that, huh,” he grouses, feeling the sting in his thighs grow. despite his muscles tensing and tightening, he pushes the feelings away, focusing on you and your sweet pussy. as he’s preparing to come to his very orgasmic end, sukuna finds himself biting his lower lip with his fangs piercing into the skin. the image of getting you pregnant—having you bare his offspring, it makes him feral. “dumb girl, i’m talkin’ to you,” sukuna snaps gruffly at your lack of response and you moan once his thrusts deepen. as he speaks, he teasingly knocks against the back of your head. “anyone in there or are ya already too stupid.”

“b- breed me, ‘kuna,” you whimper, already feeling yourself turning into a puddled mess. sukuna could never keep his hands off of you, he’s grabbing you everywhere - all hands were occupied, getting a good gripping feel of your presentable curves. “please please,” you plead, hearing the squelching sounds of your own cunt do begging of its own. there’s a white creamy ring that coats around his base already—the more you jerk against him, the more rough he becomes. by now, your pretty pink tongue’s rolled and lolled out. you’re panting like a dog in heat, gasping once he’s fucking you deeply into his royal king sized mattress. “fuuuck, want it. want more, don’t miss, ‘kuna.”

he lowly chuckles, finding your begging endearing. “hey girl. watch that fuckin’ mouth,” and the demon pops a finger past the opening of your lips. you moan, swirling your tongue around his middle finger as he’s still pounding into you with at chaotic speed. such thrusts, you’re already a mess but with the way his cock was molding your walls, you’d be even messier. sukuna grows hard, feeling you happily suck against his finger — he grunts as he’s bringing you closer toward your teetering edge. it feels hot inside, your walls were always clingy and didn’t ever dare to let go. the moistened grip of your walls was permanent and he was never one to complain. “take it then, c’mon,” he growls, snatching his finger out of your mouth to hold onto both of your jittery hips. “fuck, take it all. saved so much for you again, princess.”

he’s so big that you feel him shaping a faint tummy bulge all due to the hefty size of his thick cock. you’re such a mess—drooling all on the pillow that’s being bit on by your teeth.

“s- sukuna.” you whine, eyes of yours starting to flicker their way back once he finishes inside you again.

a pool of hot cum oozes its way inside of you until it’s pouring down both of your thighs like a waterfall. catching your breaths, you swallow your pity, savoring your own pathetic honeyed taste of saliva as he’s giving you yet another fill—it’s sticky, your thighs had already gave out and he groans. it’s so much, dumps of cum shoot into you raw and he huffs, bare buff chest glistening with slick sweat.

“look at this mess,” he snickers, bringing a palm toward his forehead to wipe his sweat away. he grunts, pulling out slowly to see his obscene creation he gave to you yet again.

you’re shaking—your ass was still propped up in the air with your knees buried into the thinly woven sheets. sukuna raises a brow as he hears your breathing come to a sudden slow. he finds your worn out state cute and he swats a hand against your ass. but this time, it’s not a spank. it’s a soft tender rub.

you moan as he’s caressing your stung cheek before he smears a thumb down your puffy full cunt, gathering a nice amount of his own filth. “how cute. ‘s still pouring out of you. looks like someone needs to be cleaned again,” and your eyes feel hooded and heavy. with a quick motion, you’re suddenly flipped over onto your back and the demon sprawls your legs apart with a single hand. you’re panting, curling your toes up in anticipation before he licks a sticky path of fresh cum that’s drooling out of your sobbing cunt. rolling out his forked tongue for you to see, he hums with a sly grin.

“spread these pathetic legs a bit more. ‘m not done with my meal just yet, little girl.”

NANAMI ☆

“oh my love,” he whispers into your ear, his low husky voice making your heart flutter - not just your heart but the pretty pulsating heat that lies between your legs flutters also.

with nanami—he’d have the best pull out game. nanami can practically smell your arousal, he doesn’t even have to do much but he can tell. with one hand, he lies you flat on your back, a thin stem of a flower he was about to give you tucks right between his teeth. “are you sure this ‘s what you want? let me hear that beautiful voice again. talk to me nice, pretty.”

always the romantic, there was lit candles everywhere and he’s got you right where he wants. nanami sprawls your legs forward the second you utter out a whiney, “y- yes,” and your eyes glance toward his blond happy trail that’s running down his perfectly sculpted body. you were already soaking wet — he barely had to do anything, just his voice alone was enough to have your panties in a twist. he places the flower aside for a moment before leaning up close. nanami then gently shoves both of your knees up toward your chest. mating press, you gulp once you see the sweet yet feral look in his eyes.

he was hungry - hungry for you. as he’s aligning himself, you hold onto him for dear life and he’s whispering all sorts of filthy coos into your ear.

in public, he was the ideal gentleman, a professional who had charm for days. yet in private with you, he didn’t mind to be just a little bit dirty.

“i’ve been thinkin’ about you all day at work today, honey,” he grunts, swollen tip thrashing between your weeping folds. you were sopping wet underneath your thighs, a thumb of his rubs against your entrance and you whimper - feeling pounds of his weight sink you further into the fat mattress. “you remember those cute voice notes i told you to send me?”

you felt your cunt go into a panic of flutters the more he spoke, he’s entering inside and you huff out, gasping—the stretch was so raw.

jogging back your memory to quite a few hours ago, you did remember. nanami told you to send him a few voice memos of yourself because he couldn’t call you while he was at work. he missed your voice, and hearing your cute sentences was just enough for him. “yeah,” you breathe, feeling the fullness of your lungs arise. once he starts to fuck you into the mattress, the abrupt snap of his hips makes you whine out. he’s so deep, calloused balmy hands of his feel all over your body, stealing a few grabs at the curvature of your ass with no shame. he’s missed touching you, he’s missed smelling you, he’s missed being inside. with both warm entangled bodies grinding into and onto each other in salacious harmony, you bite your lip. warm fawn eyes meet yours and he hums, stroking your quivering bottom lip with a soft thumb. “y- you sent me your boner afterwards.”

“i did,” he coos, softly licking a stripe near your neck.

so sweet, he could savor and taste you forever. remembering the thought makes his dick twitch and you feel the pulse almost instantly. nanami’s fucking you rigorously into chalky white sheets, raspy pants bellow out from his gruff vocal cords as he grabs onto the crying wooden headboard. you stare at his arm and his veins prod in his biceps—he’s so ripped, you felt yourself throb at just the sight of his muscles alone. focusing back toward the crying bed, it’s screeching due to nanami’s precise hits, he’s hitting you good and he’s hitting you deep. nanami’s pace was never too fast or too quick, it was just right and it had your head spinning everytime. his crazed tempo always gave you a run for your money. leaning into your neck once more, he created a trail of chaste kisses near the outline of your collarbone.

“fuck, oh— excuse my filthy tongue, sweetheart,” he jibes, guiding his damp lips toward your chest now. so pretty, with the way you were just laid back for him with your knees shoved up to your chest, it had him thinking raunchy thoughts. “but thank you, it helped me get through the day,” and you gasp again once he buries his face between the valley of your chest. humming, he kisses both of your breasts. “i missed my girls.”

blurbs of whimpers rip out of your throat as he continues to fuck you stupid—stupid until you’re utterly dumb, completely dim witted and dumbfounded all because of his cock.

nanami’s girth had you almost drooling, he wisps a few fingers to play against your soddened cunt that’s hidden between your shaky legs before feeling your sloppy grip around him tighten. your walls wrung him dry—hugging him and squeezing around him like a vice. “ken, kentooo,” you whine, deafening beats of your own heart growing so loud that you can hear them blare straight out through both ears. “ngh, cum, ‘m gonna cum.”

“i know, i know,” he purrs, gripping your chin with a single hand. his hips move with such suave speed that you could barely keep up. his weight that’s pressing into you makes you throb again for the nth time. nanami huffs, blond thin strands of hair gluing to his forehead before he moans himself. “c’mon, give it to me,” and he notices how you look away, feeling yourself about to succumb to your inevitable climax. “hey, hey lovie look at me,” and slowly, you meet his loving gaze again. nanami’s hips slow down and he’s just as close as you were—although he didn’t care about his finish as much as yours. you lean into his soft touch, feeling an open palm of his rub against your belly in circles. “there we go. just let go. make a mess on kento ‘n let me clean it, yeah?”

once you came—he came too, although he pulls out quickly, spraying viscid velvety ropes all on your tummy.

nanami’s matching the pace of your pants, chiseled chest sticking against your own before he groans. the shock your body felt was almost insane, you clench down on your jaw before squeezing your eyes shut briefly, still feeling the staticky waves of rapture surge through every vein.

“such a good girl,” he whispers, his voice mirroring just how shaky yours was. nanami leans into you, planting a single kiss on your forehead. a sheepish smile curls against his lips as he notices the damp spot you created underneath the two of you. with a soft expression, nanami spreads your legs again, grinding his body against yours whilst pulling you into a deep kiss. every few seconds, he pulls away, brushing a thumb against your lips before whispering. “but, oh—you made a little mess today, sweetheart. i’m so proud of you.”

[yeyinde]

Fuck please tell me captain price gets to go first! After all, he's the leader, and he has more experience? Gotta teach her right her first time, yea? The others get to watch, maybe get to touch...if the captain lets them..

Fuck I'm foaming at the mouth.

as captain, i think he def gets to go first. if only just to get that outta the way so the others can show you what you've been missing out on.

he doesn't put a lot of weight on first times, but he's a generous Captain and is willing to let Soap and Gaz both have at you, prepare you for him. them. he holds both by the scruff of their necks, too. in full control. always.

and with your legs thrown around Gaz's shoulders, he makes you hold his cigar (don't drop it now, love, or there'll be hell to pay) in your trembling hand for him, keeping it close to his mouth to take a puff whenever the urge strikes.

his are busy, after all—

—busy pushing Gaz's face into your cunt first, letting him feast as Soap palms his bloody hand over your body, punching your nipples. whining for a taste. cock dripping all over the place. like a sloppy, drooling dog.

takes his turn when you're buzzing after being denied so long. poor pussy forced to endure both Gaz and Soap eating you out, sucking on your clit, slipping their fingers inside. but never allowed to cum. they're always ripped back the moment he thinks you might be there, on the edge. you're only allowed to cum on his cock, sweetheart. (and maybe, maybe, if you've been good, he'll let you sit on his face after.)

when he does fuck you for the first time, he makes you feel every inch going inside of you. has Gaz hold your fingers against your rim, feeling for yourself how wide he stretches you, how deep he goes. makes you whine and beg for all sorts of lewd things—his cock deeper in your pussy, Soap's tongue on your clit, Gaz's cock in your mouth, Ghost's hands around your throat.

you're worn out before he even finishes. a shame, too, because Soap barely waits until Price has pulled out before he's shoving his fingers inside of you, cooing in your ear about how messy you are. how badly you must want his cock next. hungry little thing, aren't ye?

Price will probably go last, too. but it's not even really about sex this time when he sits you on his lap, humming at the whimpers you make, overstimulated and sore, as his cock slips inside again. warmed. soaked. you're all messy with each of them, and he rubs it into your skin, makes you suck it off his fingers. with your back flushed to his broad chest, damp curls sticking to your skin, matted from sweat, he holds you like this. big arms anchored around your front, over your belly, holding you there. and just lets you feel the rumble in his chest when he purrs in your ear about how good you've been for them, taking them all, satiating them. how pretty you look all fucked out and sloppy like this.

(and really, love. you belong like this, don't you? the perfect place for you has always been sat, balls deep, on their cocks, taking them. it's about time you learned that, mm?)

[apartmentsmoke]

"Wait, wait, stop," Buck says, and the very pleasant feeling of Tommy's mouth on his neck vanishes.

"You okay?" Tommy's got his Look of Concern plastered on his face. Good thing, because if Buck is right, this is concerning.

"Yeah, it's just - did you hear that?"

Tommy raises his eyebrows. "I heard you moaning."

"Tommy, that's the thing - it wasn't me." The Look of Concern has morphed into the Look of Are-You-Sure-You're-Not-Having-Me-On? It's mostly used whenever Buck regales Tommy with tales of one of the 118's emergencies ("Nothing like that ever happened while I was there, Evan"), but he's seen it in other contexts (explaining the entire Kim situation).

"At this point, I think I know what you sound like in bed." Tommy's mouth is still nicely red. And maybe he's right, it was nothing, and it would be easy to fall back into him. Buck waits a beat, ears perked, but there's nothing - so he does press his lips into Tommy's, Tommy's body relaxing against him.

Tommy rubs his side like Buck's an anxious horse. The hair on Buck's arms slowly flattens, goosebumps leaving his skin. He loses himself in the slide of their kisses, until -

He breaks free of Tommy and looks around wildly, Tommy woah'ing.

"Sweetheart," Tommy says, reaching out again. "Seriously, you okay? Because you're giving Ghost Whisperer."

Buck snaps his fingers at Tommy. "Exactly. My apartment is haunted."

"Evan." The word is a drier desert than Antarctica.

"There was a moan again! And it wasn't me. And when Chimney and Mara and Jee were over here helping set up, they left the balcony door open. It's October. And now there is something living here."

"Last time I checked, Casper wasn't considered alive," Tommy says, and the look on his face tells Buck everything: he really is a skeptic. Falling asleep during Buck's thoughts on Area 51 wasn't just because he found Buck's voice soothing.

When Buck reaches for his phone on the bedside table, a chill runs down his arm and into his spine. "Okay." He's got Google, a helpful army of friends, and the ability to buy anything he needs. That ghost is history. "So first, we need to get -"

He's stopped by Tommy's hand on his wrist. "Baby, do we really need to figure out your ghost thing right now?"

"Do you want to fuck in front of a ghost, Thomas?"

"Is he a hot ghost?" Tommy waggles his eyebrows, then sighs. "Look, I get that this is important to you, but I was away for three weeks for that training camp and I missed you. Can we send The Flying Dutchman back to sea in a couple days? My place has a big bed and a distinct lack of the supernatural."

As they're closing the door to Buck's loft, another faint moan emanates from the air.

"It's the pipes," Tommy says, linking his arm into Buck's to guide them to his car.

(They find out three days later Tommy is technically correct when maintenance pulls a dead raccoon out of the walls of Buck's loft.

"Huh," Tommy says, frowning at his phone. "They really do make that noise."

"And they stink." Buck wrinkles his nose. "Your bed still open?"

By the time the landlord's finished the repairs, Buck's stuff, cleared out for the construction, is scattered over Tommy's house.

"It'd be a pain to pack it all up again," Tommy says. "Keep it here."

"You just want easy access to my hoodies," Buck accuses, feeling Tommy's laughter from underneath the fabric of the stolen blue hoodie he's wearing.

Two hours later, hoodie abandoned to the floor, Buck officially moves in.)

[thanks to @stardustbuck (Buck thinks he's haunted) and @theweewooshow (balcony raccoon) for the inspo 🫶]

[shotmrmiller]

09 wife jealous of how obsessed Johnny is with his girl, takes it out on 22 Ghosts and he fucks the attitude out of herrrrr and throws in one I love you that holds her off for the next hundred years

o.

my.

god.

yesysyeesyeyseyes

ok ok. can this just be multiverse ch 4? im feeling inspired. ch4 everyone i like this.

You are so happy for your friend, truly. But goddamn, if it doesn't sting seeing Johnny just embrace her, accept her love for what it is when Simon has been fighting you tooth and nail over your feelings.

It comes to head when everyone's in the lounge and Johnny looks at his wife with so much adoration in his eyes, and he plants a kiss on the corner of his wife's mouth.

You're lurching out of your chair so fast it tips over behind you— almost jogging back to your shared quarters with Ghost.

A couple of minutes later, there's a knock on the door.

Damn. It must be Soap's wife.

You're opening the door with an apology already on your lips when you realize it is definitely not her.

"Why are you knocking?" you sneer. "It doesn't matter, what're you doing here?"

Simon just stares at you, and you bite your lip to prevent yourself from saying something you might regret.

"Let me in, pet."

Oh, so he can speak in a neutral tone.

With an aggravated sigh, you step aside and turn around, giving him your back. You won't cry again. Or at least try your best to not cry again.

The door softly clicks shut and you begin to feel like he's just pushed you into a corner.

"Look at me," he mutters.

He's definitely cornered you.

You don't turn around as you answer him. "Why, Simon? So you can continue to look at me like I'm worth nothing? Like I'm—" Your words turn to ash on your tongue because Simon's suddenly standing behind you, encircling his arms around your waist.

That starts the waterworks.

You spin to face him, returning his embrace. "Why do you hate me? I didn't choose to be here. I've never wanted to be a burden to you." Simon tightens his hold on you, pressing his cheek on the top of your head.

"I've never hated you."

"Well, that's news to me, isn't it?" you shakily snarked. You couldn't help it; your heart had taken enough of a beating.

He tips your head up with his hand under your chin, and you take in a sharp breath. He took his mask off.

Simon's as handsome as you remember. His lips are a soft, rosy pink. The bisected left eyebrow, the silverly long, thin scar on his upper lip, the crooked nose, even the bloody stubble— all of it the same.

And his cheeks are flush, with life.

"I don't hate you, love. How could I when you're my wife?" he breathed.

His wife. He called you his wife. His wife.

Simon gently lowers his head, and you rise to your toes, and when your lips meet, there's a switch in you that's flipped. The kiss turns hungry almost instantly, and you're moaning embarrassingly into his mouth, but you don't care. You don't fucking care.

He tastes the same, he even sounds the same when you suck on his tongue lightly. He's gruffer here, but he's still yours. And now you're going to take what's yours.

You start to fumble at his clothes, because why won't they just come off fast enough? Simon chuckles into the kiss and with his help, you're both swiftly naked.

His body is radiating heat, scalding under your touch. When you wrap your hand around his heavy cock, the groan you swallow is so lewd that it has you squeezing your thighs together in anticipation.

Breaking away, you roam your eyes over his bare body before pushing him back with a hand on his chest. He lays back on his mattress, and you waste no time in straddling his hips and lining him up with your slit.

Simon's hands up to grab your waist, and chokes out, "Wait, you don't need me to—" and he doesn't get to finish because you've got the tip of his head in you already.

"Another time, tomorrow, yesterday, whenever you want just not right now. I need to feel you inside of me." That's the only warning he gets before you slowly start to sink down onto him, slick cunt spreading open for him beautifully— moaning loudly when his head kisses the entrance of your womb.

Oh, you've missed this. Yeah, you've missed Simon too but this... he slots himself where only he could ever fit— like it was made for him. And you have no doubt in your mind that you were, in fact, made for him.

You place your hands on his chest and start to ride him, keeping it slow because you want to savor every second, memorize how he looks like in bliss. Your pace stays the same, a gentle up-down when you feel his grip tighten around your waist. Simon's biting his bottom lip, his molten eyes are locked onto where you take him in, and he's starting to tremble.

He's about to come.

You quickly rearrange yourself to be on your feet and start to fuck yourself onto his twitching cock. Now he's groaning loudly, sonorous noise from deep within his chest, and you angle your hips forward slightly— taking him even deeper.

Your body is slick with sweat, hair matted on your forehead from the exercise, and Simon starts to thrust himself up into you as you come down— now fucking you in turn.

His fingers are painfully digging into your soft flesh, when he looks up into your eyes, mumbling, "Kiss me, oh god, f-fuck, kiss me please."

How could you say no to that?

You rearrange your feet at his sides and lean down to slant your lips over his, but he gets impatient, pulling you down strongly— teeth clacking against his, but the slight pain is overridden when his thrusts start to turn choppy, brutal. It's so familiar that you pull away, your words spill from your lips unbidden.

"I love you."

He grunts as he comes inside of you, coating your slick walls with his essence, and you kiss him again, languidly this time.

Simon's head falls back onto his pillow, and he rubs your waist as he tries to catch his breath. You try to rest your head on his chest when he stops you with a hand to your sternum.

"You didn't finish," he asserts.

Of all the things... "No, Simon, I'm more than satisfied with..." you quietly moan when he begins to lower his hand until he's at your mons and uses his own cum to make the pad of his thumb slippery— rubbing tight, precise circles on your neglected clit.

He plays you like an instrument, and your walls are fluttering around his softening cock in minutes.

When your thighs begin to shake around him, he pulls you down with a hand to the back of your head and whispers against your lips what you've been waiting to hear all this time.

You climax to his words.

"I love you too."

--

Johnny gapes at Simon the next day, because his demeanor is vastly different to the usual surly.

"Ye slept with her, didn't ye?"

A tsk. "None of your business, Johnny."

"Ye did! About damn time, if ye ask me."

Simon doesn't rebuke that. You were another's' but now you're his. Only his.

And he's never letting you go.

[illusioninfnty]

Seeds of Sin

જ⁀➴ Dad's Best Friend : Day 3

feat. Joel Miller ᯓ★ You and Joel get up to some naughty activities when your dad tasks him with keeping an eye on you.

warnings! : NSFW 18+, kind of dark bc reader is over 18 but has known Joel for a longer unspecfied amount of time, reader's dad is mean :( , public sex, fingering, unprotected sex

ᯓ★ kinktober m.list || read on ao3

You knew it was hopeless before you even asked your dad the question. Some of the younger adults around your age in the compound invited you out with them for the night. It was an immediate yes in your book, but no way could you just hang around at night. Your dad would never allow that.

With your dad around, it was a struggle to make friends everywhere you went. The two of you constantly traveled everywhere, and it was hard to get to know people when you knew you would probably be gone within a week.

“Dad?” You peer around the edge of the wall, hearing your dad's booming voice echo from the kitchen. “Can I ask you something?”

Even though you were technically an adult now, your dad insisted on knowing your whereabouts at all times, and you felt as though you still needed to get permission from him.

As he turned to respond to you, you were able to see who your father was talking to. The familiar presence of Joel Miller didn’t surprise you one bit, although the way he looked at you in that moment did.

You’ve already been settled in this new compound for a couple of months, much longer than any other place. Your dad was a flighty man, never wanting to stay in one location for long. He was constantly paranoid that someone was out to get you two. However, you had a feeling that the reason he felt more comfortable here than anywhere else was because of Joel Miller’s presence.

“Hey, Joel.” You smile shyly as he tips his head in a greeting, a smirk ghosting his features.

“Hey yourself.” His eyes seemed darker than usual as an emotion flooded them that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Besides your dad, Joel Miller was the only constant in your life. Joel was a stoic, imposing man, one who had experienced a great loss, much like your father had. You had a feeling that they were able to connect on levels that you couldn’t fathom. Joel was strong and smart—a great hunter, a great provider for the compound, and he had your dad’s loyalty and respect, a feat that no other man shared.

You don’t remember the very first time that your father met Joel; he refused to share that story with you every time you asked. You had a feeling it had something to do with the hunting groups that he joined, something he tried and failed to keep a secret from you when you were growing up.

Your memories with Joel are always of him helping you out whenever your dad was away. And that was quite often. You know he did it to provide for the two of you, but it still stung how your dad rarely spent any time with you, choosing to venture outside of the compound to hunt or spend time chatting away with Joel over a beer than to sit down and just talk to you.

“What is it?” Your dad grumbles. You mentally curse, knowing the answer you’ll get with the bad mood he’s in.

You bite and rock on your feet. “A few people around the compound invited me—”

“Out of the fucking question.”

His harsh rejection stings even though you were prepared for it. He didn’t even let you finish your question. Joel’s gaze bores into you, and it almost feels as though he’s egging you on. As if challenging you to talk back to your father.

Whether it's all in your head or not, the sliver of encouragement sets you abound. “Seriously?” Your voice raises as you’re unable to get a hold of your frustration.

“Fuck,” your dad grumbles, pushing up from his chair, the wood squeaking harshly against the floor. “I can’t deal with you right now.”

“What the hell, dad?” You cross your arms and your glare follows him across the room. “Can we not even talk about this without you ditching me again?”

He looks down at you, a pinched expression adorning his features. “I’m on night watch. I won’t be back ‘till the morning.”

He starts to leave out the door, but you notice that Joel remains seated where he is. Instead, he bores his gaze into you, slowly leaning back into his chair and spreading his legs comfortably as if he had no intentions of leaving anytime soon.

Before your dad can leave, you whip around and call out after him. “Why isn’t he leaving?” You nudge your head in Joel’s direction.

Joel’s smirk widens, as if he was holding in laughter. “I’m on babysitting duty, princess.” His voice is all too amused, and it feels as though he’s teasing you about your dad forcing a babysitter on you.

“Wha—? Dad! I’m literally an adult! I don’t need a goddamn babysitter!”

He turns away from you and grabs his rifle off its hook. “Someone’s gotta make sure to keep your attitude in check and it sure as hell ain’t gonna be me tonight.”

And with the heavy finality of his words, your father slams the front door, leaving you alone in the house with Joel Miller.

“How long did you know about this?” You asked, unimpressed with his amused glances at your annoyance.

“Was told only a couple of minutes before you showed up.”

You sigh and plop down in the chair next to him, the one your father had vacated. “I’m not a kid,” you grumble under your breath. You thought you said it soft enough, but you swear you can hear a faint chuckle escape his lips.

A tranquil silence passes between you two before Joel speaks up again.

“You know,” he starts, taking a swig of his beer, “I think he’s too harsh on you. Needs to let you be more independent.”

“Thanks, but clearly that doesn’t change his stupid opinions.” Your head falls to the table in frustration, and you feel Joel’s rough hand start to slowly stroke your hair. It’s soothing, and you almost groan when he pulls away.

“I know what’ll cheer you up.” He finishes the last of his beer, the empty bottle clinking on the table. “Why don’t I take you to go shooting?” Your eyes widen in disbelief as he offers you something your father would have a heart attack from hearing you do. You’re convinced it must be some kind of way of testing you. “Did he put you up to this?”

“Hell no. All my idea.”

You contemple for a couple of seconds. “But won’t we get caught?”

There’s a twinkle in his eye as he stands to put his jacket on. “I know those woods better than any of them do. Now let’s go.”

The woods are as gorgeous as you imagined they would be underneath the pale glow of moonlight as Joel guides you through the trees, holding onto your hand.

“Just this way,” he mutters, his eyes wandering the field in front of you. “Here.” He props his rifle down in the field, right behind a fallen tree trunk. “Get on your knees.”

You blink. “Huh?”

Joel nods his head towards the rifle. “Can’t shoot it from up here, can you? Or have you been hiding some secret marksman skills from me all this time?”

Sighing in surrender, the dry leaves rustle beneath your feet as you lower yourself to the ground, knees digging into the dirt. You can’t seem to find the right placement to angle yourself behind the gun, and you hear Joel huff behind you in amusement as he gets down to the ground with you.

“Guess I gotta do everything for you, don’t I?”

“H-hey! Not my fault I don’t know this shit!” You sputter in protest, but the words seem to go in one ear and out the other as he nudges himself closer to you.

It feels warmer with him sidled up right behind you, his breath being felt against the side of your face. His body is massive, making you feel caged in yet protected in some odd way. If you turn your head just slightly, you’d be able to—

“Need to secure your grip right here.”

You shake those thoughts out of your head as Joel murmurs directions to you. His hands engulf your own as he positions them in different places around the weapon. You grip the gun tightly, but a shiver runs up your spine as you realize that Joel’s hands begin to move down your body, caressing your curves.

“How does that feel, baby?”

“G-good.” You manage to stammer out, praying he doesn’t hear the way your voice falters at his touch. “Comfortable. Real good.” You can practically feel his smile, too embarrassed to turn your head and meet his eye. “That’s real good. We’re gonna keep at this, alright?”

You swallow hard and nod, no longer trusting your words.

His hands stop at your hips, and he slowly, tortuously, begins to pull down your pants.

Never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined Joel Miller being so close to fucking you. He was always just your dad’s best friend, a permanent presence in your life.

Heat travels all throughout your body, feeling many degrees warmer than you did mere minutes ago. You’re glad that there’s a chill in the air now or you probably would’ve been sweating profusely by now.

The clinking of his belt being undone alerts you to your current situation, and you realize that this is actually fucking happening.

You’re about to have sex with Joel fucking Miller.

“All for me, baby?” His hand caresses your clothed pussy, making you jolt. His fingers stroke you gently through your underwear, and you clench at the contact. “You’re dripping. Soaking through those panties.”

You muster up the courage to speak. “Guess they should come off, then.”

A hearty laugh escapes his lips, clearly not expecting that from you. “Guess you’re right.”

Joel rips your panties off, a gasp leaving you in the swiftness of his actions. Your hands dig into the ground beneath you, unaware of the way your ass sticks up in the air behind you.

“Fuck, baby,” Joel hisses. A schlick sound echoes out from behind you—Joel touching himself to the view of you. The thought of that alone is enough to make your walls clench, getting wetter by the second.

“Look at you presenting yourself to me. All nice and ready for me to fuck this pussy.”

Bobbing your head, you whimper in anticipation. “Please, Joel. Need you.”

He sticks two of his thick fingers inside of you curling them as your piercing moan rings throughout the air. 

He leans closer to you, his lips close to your ear. “How bad, baby?” There’s a hint of a growl deep in his throat causing you to clench around his fingers.

“Real bad,” you know you sound so pathetic at this moment, but your desperation leads you to ignore it. “Need you inside me, Joel.” You jut your hips against his hand, no longer being held back by your embarrassment. Joel hisses, quickly removing his fingers from you. You moan at the emptiness you feel.

“Well who am I to deny you?” Before you can even process it, Joel’s cock is breaching your pussy, stretching your walls in unimaginable ways.

“Oh God, Joel!” You cry out in surprise, hands splayed out in a desperate attempt to ground yourself from the shock of him suddenly inside you. “S-so deep!”

Joel’s cock hits places inside you that you never thought were possible. All of your attention is focused on the euphoria that is him fucking your insides, just barely processing the fact that the two of you are doing this in the middle of the woods where other people could stumble upon your indecent states.

“There you go, princess,” Joel groans, “fucking take it.” The sweet sound of his voice is so melodious to your ears that it erases all previous worries about being seen by others.

You thrust against him desperately, feeling his balls slap against your pussy. The harshness of the thrusts has choked sobs escaping your throat. “Faster,” you moan, not even embarrassed with how whiny you sound.

“You like that?” Joel grasps your hips in his hands, holding you in place and setting his own tempo. His thrusts are rapid, much faster than yours in your weakened state. You’re too enraptured in your state of pleasure to have the means to respond to him.

“What would dear old daddy think? An old man fucking his cute, innocent daughter braindead?” He pounds into you with reckless abandon and you can’t do anything but moan. “You like fucking your old man’s best friend? Bad, bad, girl. Not so innocent anymore.” He tuts at you mockingly, taunting you.

“G-gonna—!” Wet squelching sounds from where you two are connected, your juices dripping onto Joel’s front and onto the dirt beneath you. “G-gonna cum!” The words tumble out of your mouth as you feel your climax rapidly approaching. 

Your walls clench around Joel like a vice, desperate to keep him inside you. The pleasure is too great, and you don’t want it to pass.

“Such a greedy pussy,” he croons. Your pussy is gushing with your arousal, completely drenching the two of you. “Fuck, baby, let it out for me.”

His words are all the encouragement you need to cum. Your whole body shakes as your release hits you, your moans louder than ever before. Joel does nothing to hide your sounds of pleasure; instead, he grips the nape of your neck as his hips stutter and his warm release shoots up into you, his voice mixing with your own.

You collapse onto the forest floor as Joel releases you, body limp and almost numb from the sex. Your brain is all scrambled from the encounter, and you can barely form a cohesive thought.

Silence passes between the two of you as Joel stands up, putting his underwear and pants back on.

“C’mon.” Joel taps your butt lightly, a small gasp leaving your lips at the touch. “Clean yourself up. We need to head back so dear old dad doesn’t catch us.”

[rqgnarok]

standing ovation - jamie tartt

fandom: ted lasso

wc: 2321

warnings: mentions of jamie’s dad and DV, spoilers for ted lasso’s mom city. reader uses female pronouns. 

summary: reader sneaks into training grounds after richmond’s win against man city. seeing her is just what jamie needs. 

author’s note at the end!

There’s something in the air.

Jamie’s pretty sure Will sprayed some lavender shit all over the locker room again but that’s not quite what he means– he’s said goodbye to every single one of his teammates and all the coaches– and the locker room is now his and his alone. He locks away his dad’s ghost by locking up his phone, the simple message doing wonders to finish lifting that weight off his shoulders.

He wasn’t at the game. Or maybe he was, Jamie realizes now that it doesn’t really matter. A part of him will never stop looking over his shoulder whenever he visits his hometown for his dickwad of a father, but the older, bigger part of him knows Coach was right– his motivation doesn’t come from hating his dad anymore and it doesn’t have to. His forgiveness is for himself, for the little boy that had to build a mask to save himself from his dad, and for the man he is today because of him– and because of his mum, Keeley, Roy, Ted, his teammates–

The standing ovation at the end was more of a benediction than he’d like to admit. Everything about his hometown made him feel prickly; like he was a virus the town was doing its best to reject, and other than his quick visit to his mom Jamie expected the whole thing to be a disaster. The kids on the street, the people on social media, the rude assholes in the bleachers– Jamie thought that was all he was gonna get. Blind, thoughtless hatred despite Jamie trying his best.

He remembers Roy getting a standing ovation on his last game, while Jamie was still wearing Man City blue. He’d been appalled, unable to discern the possibility of someone hating you so much they respected you. All he’d ever gotten– from his dad, rival teams, his own team– had been everything except respect.

But they’d clapped for him. They thought him deserving of something precious and somehow it feels like permission. He can play for himself. He can come home without his dad’s ghost belittling him for not turning out the way he expected him to. 

Even Manchester hasn’t been home in a long time. Sure, his mom and Simon are there, but Richmond has his family, too– his friends, his teammates, his–

“Excuse me, I’m looking for my boyfriend. 5’9 not quite 6 foot, sexy as hell, the most fantastic football player to ever walk on Earth?”

Jamie’s lips involuntarily twist up as he glances at the door. (Y/N)’s a sight wearing her Richmond TARTT jersey, looking disheveled and flushed like the rest of the city probably is right now after their win tonight. 

Jamie doesn’t give a shit about the rest of the city, though. At least not right now. He cares about his girl sneaking in (with Keeley and Roy’s permission and advice, probably) to see him, normal sleep schedule be damned. 

He laughs, loud and unrestrained joy lighting up his features as he hobbles towards his girlfriend, letting himself be enveloped in a crush-tight embrace.

“Did ya watch it?” he wonders, forgoing his usual shy demeanor whenever (Y/N) praises him and just allowing his excitement to overflow, arms going around (Y/N)’s waist and hoisting her off the ground.

“Did I watch it, he asks,” (Y/N) scoff is downplayed by her big grin and the way she wraps her arms around Jamie’s neck as he spins her around, fucked up ankle be damned. “I couldn’t take my fucking eyes off of you, Jamie, oh, my God–”

She’s kissing him deeply, unable to contain her excitement. 

“You’re so fucking brilliant,” she whispers against his mouth, her hands at the nape of his neck making him shiver into her embrace, unable to get enough. “Oh, Jamie, that assist– the entire play for Colin’s goal? Your goal–”

“It was for you,” he tells as he drops her off, cupping her face in his hands and cheeks hurting with how wide he’s smiling. “I couldn’t celebrate but it was for you. For you and me mum, you were with me on the pitch the whole time–”

He stumbles a little as he drops her on the ground and (Y/N) tenses in his arms. She looks him over, suddenly worried. “Oh, shit. Your ankle, dumbass, are you okay? Fuck, did I–”

“Angel,” the nickname has her melting almost immediately just like he thought it would, a five-word weapon he’s never gotten tired of wielding. (Y/N) pouts at him, still concerned, and Jamie can’t have that, he kisses the expression off her face immediately. It should be illegal for her to be sad, no, sir. “‘s not even a sprain. It was probably the panic of bein’ in the same place as me dad, to be honest.”

Something steely flashes through her eyes, there and gone in a second, at the mention of Jamie’s dad. (Y/N)’s never been anything other than kind about it, but Jamie doesn’t doubt she’d beat the old fart up if she were given the chance. 

The thought only makes him smile.

“Did you? See him?” she wonders cautiously. She’s touching him again after her moment of hesitation over his injury, hands doing soothing motions up and down his sides. Jamie fights off a shiver.

“Nah,” he says simply as if the thought of crossing paths with him didn’t have him toeing the line of a panic attack the entire three days they were in Manchester. “I don’t know if he was there, and if he was, I didn’t see him. I don’t think I care anymore. It’s for the best, really.”

(Y/N)’s expression brightens, though they both know they’re not done talking about it. Jamie wishes it could be as easy as turning off his phone and forgetting about his dad, but his skin already itches a little with the idea of getting a text back from him. He’s also no doubt that (Y/N) will hold him throughout it all. 

“I did see me mum.”

“How is my favorite Tartt?” she teases.

“Happy,” Jamie says softly, always the most important thing to consider when it comes to his mother. Ever since he was a toddler and he gained acknowledgment of his dad’s actions; after an especially gruesome argument that ended with his dad breaking a few photo frames and plates, stumbling his way out of the apartment, and slamming the door shut, Jamie would climb on his mom’s lap and wipe her tears as best he could with his tiny clumsy baby fingers. “Yeah, she was real happy. And for me, too. Even before the match, she was happy to see me, happy to… jus’ happy.”

“That’s good, sweetheart,” she threads her fingers through Jamie’s hair to keep it off his face, his headband lost somewhere in his lockers or amongst the rest of the dirty laundry. He’ll have to tell Will to watch out for it, he’s a little attached to it after the night he’s had. 

Jamie’s usually not the one to believe in lucky garments or charms but– well. He feels pretty lucky right now; that (Y/N) saw some worth in him when they met and makes the choice to love him and come home to him, day after day, whatever the outcome may be. 

(Y/N) looks at him adoringly like she knows what he’s thinking. “Did’ya get your wings back, then?”

Jamie grasps her hand in his and turns to kiss the inside of her wrist, only slipping a little bit of tongue. “Nah. They was never gone. All I needed was a little help to see.”

He frowns before (Y/N) can answer. “I was gonna say something stupid like ‘you’re me wings’ but that’s disgusting and I hate it. I would never say something like that. ‘m not Roy.”

(Y/N)’s laugh is surprised and comes deep from her belly. “Are you telling me Roy Kent’s a secret romantic?”

“Big old softie, that tosser,” he rolls his eyes. “He snuck you in for me, didn’t he? That’s all you need to know about–”

(Y/N) shuts him up with a kiss just because she can, and they’re both smiling too hard for it to be a proper one. 

She says “He likes you. He’s proud of you. We’re all so proud of you,” while peppering kisses all over his face, landing on his cheeks, nose, temple, jaw, and corner of his mouth. “You’re so, so good, Jamie, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” he says, because there’s not gonna be a single time in which she tells him that and he doesn’t reciprocate. “Mum said that, too. And Keeley and Roy. And Coach, too, I guess, in his own way. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without them.”

“I can’t believe I missed it,” (Y/N) pouts and beats herself up over it for the thousandth time. Jamie presses a kiss to the space between her eyes for the thousandth time in response. “I should’ve been there, I should’ve told my boss to go to hell–” 

“You’re here,” he tells her, shaking her a little by the shoulders and looking her over like he can’t quite believe it. That she’s here in the locker room, in his life, loving him like he’s always desperately wished for but never thought he’d deserve. “What was I gonna do, put my dumb ankle into ice and sit alone in the dark?”

“‘m sure Roy and Keeley would be here drinking champagne with you if I wasn’t here.”

“And what could we be doing that is keeping them away right now?” he raises his brows, sneaking a hand down her back lower, lower, lower–

(Y/N) slaps his chest, though a gleam in her eye tells him she’s not saying no to anything. “You’re…” she drifts off.

He smirks cockily. “Unbelievable?”

(Y/N) shakes her head imperceptively. “Nah. I always knew you could do it. But you’re breathtaking, I’ll give you that. As if your ego needs it.”

Jamie’s mouth softens into a smile, soft and apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

(Y/N) frowns a little at the sudden shift in conversation. “Whatever for?”

“I’ve been a dick these past couple of weeks–”

He had. (Y/N) won’t let him admit it but he wasn’t lying when he told Roy he wasn’t doing well. Not eating, not sleeping, waving off (Y/N)’s concern with a little too cold shoulder. It made him feel a little too much like his dad, and that thought only dragged him further down.

It had been (Y/N) who suggested Jamie pay a visit to his mom while in town for the game, and when he’d mentioned this to her she’d smiled knowingly, ran a hand through his hair, and made him promise an introduction soon. 

“You were anxious,” she corrects him with a shake of the head, won’t let him speak ill of himself when all he did was have a normal, human reaction to a very triggering situation. “And I’ve been worried about you but you don’t have to apologize, Jamie. Not to me, not in a million years.”

“Alright,” he says, soft and charmed. He soothes his thumb over her knuckles, featherlight. He looks down at their intertwined hands for a beat or two, gently swinging them back and forth. “Then can I apologize for shutting you out? I know you were only trying to help. I’ll do better next time at letting you know what I need.”

“And I’ll do better at listening,” she assures him with an indulgent smile, using her free hand to trace the Richmond crest of his shirt. “Look at us, communicating and shit.”

Jamie scrunches his nose in faux disgust. “Gross,” he says, but even the facade is too much to keep up when (Y/N) nudges his nose with hers. His lips tilt upwards against his best intentions, drunk on her presence and something inside his chest brimming with unstirred delight. 

(Y/N) exhales against his mouth. She hasn’t been more than a few inches away from him since she came down to meet him, always touching him.  

“What do you wanna do, huh?” she asks him, pulling at the bottom of his shirt. “Anything you want. We can go get some takeout from that burger place you like or maybe something fancier? We can go home and get some ice on that ankle–”

“It’s nothin’–”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” by that, she means when the team doctor gives him the all clear and he isn’t limping slightly with every step he takes. It’ll take a while but Jamie can take it, especially if any downtime comes with them spending the days together. She makes a questioning hum. “But we can do that tomorrow, then. Tonight, whatever you want. You’ve earned it.”

And Jamie does feel like a winner. Not only because of the three points they managed to steal from Man City but because he gets to come home to this. He gets to leave his dad behind in Manchester and his mom in safe hands, he gets to accomplish his dream for himself and the people that love him instead of trying to prove someone who hurt him wrong. 

He gets to live for himself. Coach Lasso was right, him forgiving his father was the kindest thing he could do for himself. 

“I want this,” he murmurs against her temple, breathing in the smell of her perfume and taking in the warmth of her body against his. “I got all I need right here.”

(Y/N) smiles and crowds even closer, pressing a kiss to his jaw. 

A beat. Then–

“So that’s a no for a quickie in the locker room, then?”

(Y/N)’s laugh tastes like a standing ovation.

_________

precious little jamiebaby i hope i did you justice ily

i was ready to make an angsty peace about him but mom city left me craving to give him a moment of peace so ta-da! thank you so much for reading and letting me know what you think!

a reminder that commissions and asks are open!

<3

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

[heartfullofleeches]

loser darling having to schedule times to fuck all of the demons. honestly i think it’d be a loser’s (my) heaven to be able to fuck and cum into so many demons.

"I can't... do this anymore...."

These beasts were going to be the death of you. It's only common knowledge that idols of lust would be insatiable when draining their prey, but this was too much for one human to take. Rather than a one and deal, these devils had chosen to latch themselves onto you for the rest of your mortal days and possibly long after when they drag your immortal soul down from whence they came. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if there was only just of them. There were three - three devils sucking you dry at all hours of the day. When one finished their meal another would take the sloppy seconds - if they weren't piling on top of you at the same time. If they smelled another human on you your torment was amplified - tongue fucked through half-assed apologies or edged into orgasming right as one tells you exactly how they slit the homewrecker's throat. Even asleep, you couldn't escape their wrath - waking to the exhausting sight of one of them between your legs more times than you could count.

The demon hanging off the end of your bed raises its head from the mattress. "Hm?~ What was that, baby? Couldn't hear you when your legs clench around my neck like that. Thought you'd snap it right in half this time...not that I'd complain."

You yank the demon up by its horns as you drag your spent body into an upright position. It mewls at your harsh grip, plush lips ghosting your jawline as its claws dip against the curve of your hip.

"I. Can't. Do. This. If you whores don't give me a break, I'll be dead within a month. Granted, it's probably the best way to go, but there's more I'd like to do before I die."

An arm shoots around your neck, pulling you towards the bust of the demon on your right now roused awake by the fuse. It kisses at your neck; moist tongue lapping at your skin and it takes all of you not to ride the savage's face like it so desired. "Have we fallen out of your favor, love? You're the one that's always complaining about your love life - when you have us right here. If anyone's hurting right now, it's us."

"I never said that. All I'm asking for is some recovery time every once in a while."

The demon in your lap hums in thought. "Hm. How about this? One of us gets to play with you when you wake up, one in the afternoon and finally right before you go to bed. We can rotate those times during the week and on weekends we get to have you whenever we'd like. Everything in between is all yours, but if you ever need us - you know were we'll be. Sound good, babe?"

"I...." You sigh. It's not much different from your current arrangements, but the best you'll get for now. "...fine."

A sleepy voice sounds from your left, peeling what remained of your night shirt off your shoulders. "Dibs on the first shift."

[lundenloves]

fuck em kids, i want no-kids-ghost hcs

pretty please thank u ma'am ily bye💞

i got u! 🚫 kids hcs

these are just my 1am thoughts again, all sfw aside from one mention of sex. whatever.

He lets you do all the talking. All the time. Will stand next to you in silence without an ounce of help, hands probably on your shoulders as you ramble on to the people opposite you.

Entertains your stupid questions. Will often lie about an obvious answer, answering affirmatively when you ask if he’s serious. “Yeah, ‘course they did.” Said in the most nonchalant tone you can imagine.

Has that fucking teasing laugh. You know that quiet wheeze, the one that comes out when someone is being stupid. His eyes follow you around the room with that laugh when you’re in a mood, sat back on the sofa taking the upmost space with wide arms spread across the back.

Will absolutely wrestle you. And no, you will not win. Sometimes accidentally hurts you with his grip but it only makes you kick at him harder. Which he laughs at. See the above.

Takes up all the space in bed.

Goes so long without sex on deployments, finishing in record speed when you eventually fuck again. He’s past embarrassment at this point, and just automatically lines up for a real second round.

He fucking loves when you rub his arm or his back, touch his hair, caress his cheek, literally ANYTHING that is gentle love. He is game for it. He is there. This man is not going to be touch starved in your presence, sometimes even sighing in relief when you rub across his shoulder muscles.

Is probably pretty fucking bad at initiative. Sorry to disappoint, but all men are to an extent. You could hint all day that you want something specific from him and it would fly right over his head. If you want to do something, tell that bitch. 💀

I know he goes red easily. No one fucking argue with me about this, that man is one for red ears. And it’ll come over such stupid shit too, like 141 teasing him about you? Bang he’s went red under the mask. His neck too.

He isn’t very affectionate at all. So, whenever you get an initiated spoon or a tender kiss it’s a madness. You never make a scene of happiness though, knowing it would most likely push him away.

He’s a tender wee soul, really.

Is exceptionally good at calming you down. Like, scarily. You could be on an absolute fucking rager and he would gently bring you down, asking about every detail and letting you rant with his guided questions until you had tired yourself out.

Stingy. As. Fuck.

Will not spend more than whatever amount he’s made up in his head for something. Has to make a comment to you about it too, “Six quid? Six quid for what?“ If you work in hospitality, this man is your enemy. I’m sorry to say it.

His camera roll is single-handedly the best thing you’ve ever seen. It’s so fucking awful. The photos will literally be a blurry mess, of maybe: a rope knot, a sunset, a downward view from a cliff, a line of mug selfies from Gaz and Soap, a single bullet, an unmade bed in his barracks, possibly a dog or two and a few dozen accidental screenshots.

simon 'ghost' riley taglist: @vamppxncess @freakonfilm @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @abbugadu @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy

[grabattheseballsss]

Somno with ghost ;P

Pairing: ghost x fem reader

[ CW: somnophilia duh, rape, groping, ghost being a creep, a weirdo even, what is he even doing here?, ghost using his rank and power for evil, he kinda doesn’t realise how creepy he is, plot twist? Not really ? Listen I wrote this in like 10 mins, I’m sick and bored be nice]

For a new recruit, ghost was weirdly nice to you, you definitely have noticed given that he would verbally abuse anyone for making a simple mistake, yet whenever you fucked up, he’d be quiet, simply telling you to do better or just flat out ignoring it.

You weren’t stupid, you knew he liked you, I mean what other explanation do you have for him always grabbing your hips or waist to move past you, why else would he wrap himself around you from behind when showing you how to ‘fire a gun correctly’ as if you haven’t been doing so, how you’d always find him staring at you when you’re making yourself a midnight snack in your short pjs, how his eyes would not leave your figure as you leaned against the counter, waiting for your noodles to get ready.

You turned around to grab yourself a bowl, gasping when you saw his looming, obnoxiously large figure standing right behind you “oh my god! Seriously ghost, can you stop that?!” Your shaky tone only made him want to scare you more, so would he stop?

He only stared at you as you lightly slapped his arm and made your way to the counters, as you walked back to the pot that was done simmering, you felt him right behind you, you didn’t move, you didn’t know what to do or say in this situation

His arm made its way over your shoulder, you stared at his gloved hand as he grabbed the kettle, and slowly taking it, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding when he made his way to the sink, you quickly poured the noodles into the bowl and threw the pot into the sink, trying to leave as fast you could, before you could leave you heard him finally speak.

“You’re so dirty…” you turned to him with a confused look “excuse me?” You asked in a slightly offended tone, his head tips towards the sink

“Clean your dishes” he stated, you rolled your eyes “I’ll clean it when I finish my noodles” you mumbled as you existed the kitchen, relieved to be out of his sight.

Sitting down in the lounge area, you turned on the tv and watched some random show and ate your noodles, unfortunately for you, the masked man has returned, sitting down at the end of the couch you were sitting on, you looked up at him, his mask was rolled up to the bridge of his nose, his lips and chin exposed, he sipped his tea quietly “stop staring” he broke the silence making you gulp and apologise.

After a good 10 minutes of silence you decided to break it by asking him “why are you awake?”

He hummed “why are you awake ?” He asked back making you glare at him “I asked you first” you rolled your eyes and saw he was glaring down at you

“Ugh fine, I was hungry, obviously” you leaned your head against the couch’s pillow, staring up at him, about a minute or two of silence you snapped at him “well? Are you going to tell me why you’re awake ?”

He looked down at you, his brown eyes almost seeming black due to the dim lights in the room “I never agreed to telling you” he finally stated, making you scoff “ I can’t believe you…” you fake sobbed and got up, stretching your back and grabbing the bowl to wash it, you muttered a soft ‘good night’ as you left the room.

You walked into your room, yawning and flopping onto the bed, it was a hot night so your covers were rudely pushed away by your leg, and after a few minutes of staring up at the ceiling, your eyelids grew heavy and slowly, you were gone.

See, at this time of night, nobody was awake, it was damn near 2:50 am, these people wake up at 7 am on a relaxing day, so he knew no one would catch him peeking into the keyhole of your door, no one would catch him turning the knob on your door slowly, opening it and letting himself inside.

He promised himself, he promised to only look at you, to only go as far as touching you but nothing further, but how could he keep that promise when he saw you laid out on the bed, chest slowly rising and falling, lips parted slightly, how your soft plush thighs were slightly parted.

It’s as if you’re asking for it, as if you were waiting for him, to come and claim your smaller body, to have you beneath him, sweating, dizzy, and begging him for more.

Simon took a deep breath in, shuddering slightly as he bit his lower lip, sure to leave a bruise on his dry lips.

He walked to your side, kneeling by you, large, rough hands caress your cheek, index finger travelling to your patted mouth, sticking it in between your lips, coating his digit with your saliva, he took his mask off with his other hand as he took his now wet finger and sucking on it, it was disgusting, how any of your bodily fluids can turn this man into a dog in heat, it’s disgusting how his cock became fully erect as soon as he tasted your saliva, and it was even more disgusting how he has already lost it when he saw drool pooling out next to your squished cheek.

Oh how he wishes he was that silk pillowcase, what he wouldn’t do to be used by you in anyway, how he wanted to be your bed, pillows, covers, to be enveloping your body until you are him and he is you.

Simon doesn’t love, no he wasn’t raised in an environment that supported that, he knew he wanted to love someone the way his mother should’ve been loved, the way his father never did, he wanted to love someone until they are one, but with how many people he’s lost, it’s become much harder for him to let anyone in, but in his eyes he’s not doing anything wrong.

He doesn’t hit you, nor does he ever dream of doing so, he never calls you names, make you feel less than, so how would this be abusive ?

He’s a frustrated man in power, surely you can’t be mad if he took a hold of your hand and placed it on his aching bulge, right?

His promise now long gone as soon as he felt your soft hands against his clothed dick, he gently set your hand down and unbuckled his belt, keeping his cargos and boxers around his mid thigh, his twitching cock finally free, it stood up with pride, already leaking Pre-cum as it searched for your warm hand again

Simon took your hand again, wrapping your fingers around the head of his dick, his body shuddered at the skin contact, he took a second to breath before holding your closed hand in place, thrusting his dick in and out, slowly in order to not startle you, you looked way too beautiful asleep, unaware of your love using you, what would you if you were up? Would you help him? Would you wrap those beautiful lips around his swollen tip?

Or would you let him inside you? Would you let him feel this gummy walls tightening around his dick as he pounded into you? Would you be okay with him filling you up like you deserve to ?

The endless possibilities in simon’s mind only egged him on as he quickened his pace, his breathing becoming shorter and shorter, he was breathing like a dog in heat, so so close to finally finishing, his mind was only focused on where to dump his seed, your beautiful face? Those soft hands ? Maybe he should take your shirt off and spill all over that chest of yours

But oh the gods weren’t by simon’s side this night

“W..Simon?”

That was the final straw, he moaned out as he spilled his seed all over your puffy, confused face

[sequinsmile-x]

Fourth - Chapter 3 - One Month Old

Emily and Aaron get through the newborn stage, also known as the 'fourth trimester', together.

-x-

Hi friends,

Thanks so much for the love on this so far, it means a the world as always!

Let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: List of tags can be found on the Master List

Words: 2k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

One thing that had taken Emily by surprise about having a baby was how ravenous she’d be whenever she fed him. 

It’s how she finds herself in the pantry, stuffing cookies into her mouth, just minutes before she is due to leave for her and Aaron’s anniversary dinner. He’d gently asked if she wanted to go out on to celebrate their anniversary just a week ago. She’d hesitated, not because she didn’t want to but because she’d never left Lucas alone for longer than just a few minutes whenever she was in the shower. The idea of being out, even only for a couple of hours, made her skin itch. She’d said yes in the end, wanting to spend some time with her husband and just be Emily for a while, but now she was wearing make up and a nice dress for the first time in a month she felt unsure. She takes another cookie out of the sleeve and sneers at it before she stuffs it in her mouth. 

“Fucking Oreos,” she grumbles as she puts the packet back on the shelf, “I hate Oreos.” 

It had been two weeks since Lucas’s doctor told them the newborn was intolerant to dairy and that it was best for Emily to cut it out of her diet if she wanted to continue nursing him. She’d of course followed the advice, seeking out meals and snacks she could still eat whilst cutting out dairy overnight. The guilt she felt when Lucas was more settled almost immediately still felt like it was fresh even now. The thought that she had been causing her baby discomfort, even unknowingly, almost too much to bear. 

“You ready to go, sweetheart?” 

She turns and looks at her husband, frowning when she sees his arms are empty, “Where’s Luke?”

He smiles as he steps further into the kitchen, his hands in his pockets, “Jess has him.” 

Jessica had immediately offered to watch the boys before Aaron had even finished telling her his plans for their anniversary, a conversation Emily later found out had happened before he’d even broached the subject with her. It made her feel more comfortable with the idea of going out because Aaron always spoke about how integral she’d been in Jack’s early life, a flash of shame in his eyes when he told her that Jessica had been better at settling his infant son than he had. 

“Okay,” she says, wiping her hands together to shake off the remaining cookie crumbs, “We should get going,” she looks down at herself, scrunching her nose up as she tries to readjust the way her dress was laying, the material gathering around her stomach in a way she hates. “Do I look okay?” 

When she looks up he’s standing much closer and he leans in to kiss her, his lips ghosting against hers before he pulls back, “You look beautiful.”

He places his hand on her back and guides her to the living room, his touch firmer when they spot Jessica and Lucas, the baby’s cheek against her shoulder as she pats his back.

“Look Lukey,” Jessica says, smiling at them, “Look how good Mommy and Daddy look.” 

Emily’s hands form fists at her sides, short nails digging blunt crescent moons into her palms, so she stops herself from reaching out and grabbing her son from Jessica’s arms. She tries to remind herself that she’s done harder things than this. She’s fought off monsters and literally stood toe to toe with death, but right now in this moment she can’t think of anything more difficult than walking away from her son for even just a couple of hours. 

“I just fed him,” she says, her eyes still on Lucas even though she’s talking to Jessica, “If he gets hungry again-”

“There’s milk in the fridge, labelled by the day you pumped,” Jessica says kindly, and when Emily looks up at her the gentle smile on her face reminds her they’d already gone through this since Jessica arrived. Twice. “And he’ll only fall asleep if you sway with him in your arms or on the porch swing.” 

Emily clears her throat, and Aaron’s hand ghosting over her lower back does nothing to relieve her embarrassment, her cheeks burning pink with it, “I’m sorry. It’s just…”

“Oh, you have nothing to worry about at all,” Jessica assures her, her kindness never wavering, “You should have seen what Haley was like the first time she left Jack,” her smile turns slightly wistful, “She left me a four page list of instructions. Front and back.” 

“And that was after I helped her slim it down,” Aaron says from beside her, his hand slipping from her back to her waist, tugging her into his side, “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to, Em.”

He was being so understanding it was almost pissing her off. Irritation, she knows he doesn’t deserve, aimed at his well meaning support thrumming under her skin. She was practically vibrating with it, tensing in his embrace, and she didn’t need to be good at her job to know it was because she was actually irritated with herself. She didn’t recognise who she was anymore, everything about who she was just a month ago stripped away and replaced with who she was now. It wasn’t a bad change, just new, and she was trying to get used to who she was now. How she’d be going forward with this tiny life she’d created out there in the world, no longer where she could keep him safe tucked up in her belly. 

She hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell Aaron any of this, worried that it would come across that it meant she loved Lucas more than she loved Jack no matter how far that was far from the truth, but Jack had been so much older when she stepped into that maternal role in his life. He’d been walking and talking and being apart from him, be it for work or her social life, had always been part of the deal. Lucas had always been either inside of her, on her chest or close enough to touch. It was an adjustment and she’d get used to it. 

She hoped. 

“No,” she says, looking up at her husband, knowing the moment their eyes meet that he sees through her forced smile, “It’s our anniversary. We should go out for dinner.” 

He stares at her for a beat too long and then he nods, his arm around her shoulders now as he kisses her temple, “Okay, in that case, we should get going so we don’t miss our reservation.” 

She tries her best to hold it together as they say goodbye to the boys and Jessica, and if Aaron notices Emily wiping tears away as they climb into the car, she’s grateful he doesn’t bring attention to it.

___

She can’t stop checking her phone. 

Every time the screen switches off she presses it again, the photo she has of her sons set as her wallpaper as much of a reassurance as it is a hindrance, a reminder of what she’s left at home. She keeps switching between staring at her phone and at the menu in front of her. She isn’t taking any of it in, the words on paper in front of her not registering at all. 

“Em, are you okay?” 

She looks up at her husband, smiling tightly as their eyes meet, her cheeks warm as she swallows back guilt, the ever present feeling that she wasn’t being a good mom or wife trying to force itself up her throat. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, hating how her voice shakes, her jaw tight as she tries to hold back the tears she would have easily fought a year ago, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He smiles at her so kindly it makes the tears fall past her lashline and she shakes her head at herself, “God-fucking damn it.”

Aaron shifts closer to her, dragging his chair along with him as he sits next to her, his arm around her shoulder as he pulls her in, “Sweetheart,” he says, kissing her temple, hooking his finger under her chin as he encourages her to look at him, “Nothing is wrong with you. You had a baby a month ago and this is the first time you’ve spent any time away from him. This is normal.”

She chokes on a laugh, automatically leaning into his hand as he cups her cheek and wipes her tears away, “It doesn’t feel normal.” 

He smiles and leans forward, resting his forehead against hers for a second, “I know it doesn’t,” he says, subtly shaking his head at the waiter as he approaches them, silently asking for another few minutes, “But I promise you it is. Do you trust me?” 

She nods, sniffing as she laughs again, “Yes. I do,” she says, leaning into his side, so emotionally wrung out she can’t even begin to think about being embarrassed for crying in a crowded restaurant, “I’ll go back to being your strong, kickass wife soon. I promise.”

He leans in and kisses her, “You already are, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her again, wiping another tear from her cheek, “Do you know what you want to eat yet?” 

She groans and shakes her head, “I need to figure out what I can eat.” 

He can’t help the wide smile that spreads across his face, swallowing back his amusement that his usually observant wife, the woman who could tell when someone was hiding something with nothing more than a slight change in their expression, hadn’t paid any attention at all to the restaurant he’d brought her to. 

“Em, baby, this is a vegan restaurant. You can eat whatever you want.” 

Her eyes go wide and she looks between him and the menu, the different options finally registering, and she feels overwhelming love wash over her. He loved her and their children in such a quiet, unassuming, way sometimes that it took her by surprise, his thoughtfulness of simply bringing her somewhere to eat where she had as much choice as she could enough to make tears gather in her eyes again.

“Aaron…” 

“And there aren’t any Oreo based desserts,” he says, winking at her, “I checked the menu online to make sure.” 

She smiles and kisses him, her hand curling around the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his hair.

“I love you,” she says, kissing him again, “And as soon as the doctor signs me off you are getting so lucky,” her smile gets wider when he laughs, “You may have to remind me though. I’m so sleep-deprived I almost left my phone in the freezer this morning.” 

He laughs and kisses her cheek before he looks at the menu between them, not bothering to move his chair back to where it should be, more than content to sit next to her like this all night. 

“Yes ma’am.” 

-x-

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[gloomiebearwritings]

I cant believe I'm requesting for him but you're dragging me down the Graves simping so... I'll give in just this once

Could you please write a fic where the reader is the youngest at 141 and the whole team sees them as a little brother BUT they find out they're fucking around with Graves (quite literally)

Also can it be with a gender neutral reader, so everyone can enjoy?

Thanks ♡˖꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱♡˖꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱

I'm SO sorry it took me a bit to get to this, my writing juices are a bit dried up atm (┬┬﹏┬┬)

It's not perfect, but I hope you enjoy it!! ♪(´▽｀) I narrowed it down to Soap and Ghost for continuity's sake, hope that's okay!

Soap had no problem voicing his annoyances when Graves got a little closer to you, often calling Graves out for whatever he called you.

But the closer Graves got to you, the more watchful both Ghost and Soap became- they didn’t trust how smoothly he slid into your comfort zone. He wasn’t stupid though, he knew the duo were suspicious of him- keeping your meetings private in the late hours of the night, or earliest hours of the morning when he knew everyone was asleep.

The sneaking around became more lax however, with him choosing to stay longer and longer in your bed after you two had finished fooling around. It was never out of being cocky either, but out of tenderness- pressing kisses to your stomach, wrists, chest when you two would lay there after the high. Sometimes he’d be barely getting out the door of your room when Ghost or Soap would be stirring, and only avoided being caught by excusing his messy hair on just getting up himself. 

That luck ran out the instant Soap trusted his gut and listened in on a conversation Graves was having with two Shadows, silently listening in from his spot on the other side of the door. 

“You make sure that whenever we’re all out there that y/n isn’t hurt. Got it?” 

“I know 141 are our brothers-”

“I ain’t on about that- I’m on about how that’s my babe out there, and I don’t want them gettin’ wasted because someone was slacking.”

With a sinking stomach he rushed off to find Ghost or you, whichever he ran into first. And it just happened to be you he bumped into first where he’d grabbed your arm, “We need to talk.” he said firmly as he took you off to an empty room. He shut the door behind the two of you before turning to give you the most concerned expression you’d seen out of him in a long time.

“The hell is Graves’ relationship with you?” he questioned, “Why’s he callin’ you babe?”

You knew you couldn’t lie, he could always see right through and tell- so you chose to be honest, and told him outright that you and Graves had been seeing each other privately for some time by that point. Still he remained more concerned than angry, begging you to tell him why you let him in like that, “What makes you think he can be trusted with that?”

Though it seemed no answer was the right one, he repeated himself a few times on how he doesn’t like how it’s not right; but the more you held your ground the more he quieted down until he ended up apologizing for his attitude and his brash actions the last few minutes. He felt guilty for making such a massive huff when you were rather stiff in your seat, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden “big brother��� moment. 

“I’m sorry…” he muttered as he pressed his palms to his face.

Quietly, and as calmly as you can, you explain that Graves has no ill intentions, that he knew you’d turn his skin inside out if he tried anything. And remarking that if he has such a problem with it, why not discuss it with both you and Graves together- earning yourself an annoyed exhale from him.

“That’s not the fuckin’ point, y/n.” he said, gaining back some of the bite, “I want to make sure you’re gonna be fine, and that I won’t have to skin a man any time soon.”

Unbeknownst to the two of you Graves had been patiently waiting on the other side of the door for you, only piping up when the comment of skinning came up- “Ah, I don’t think I’m gonna be losin’ my skin any time soon, Mactavish.” he loudly called, “How about we talk about this together?”

It was only once the four of you were in a room alone did Graves finally look shifty, though it’s hard not to when two of the equivalent of your older brothers were standing there in front of you two, arms folded and all. Graves’ hand was firmly entwined with yours, lips hard pressed together as he listened to the two’s concerns over the situation.

“I wanna know why you decided to get in bed with ‘em thinkin’ we wouldn’t find out.” Ghost commented, staring holes into Graves.

“Well, if I’m bein’ honest we sure as hell didn’t expect it to become what it has.” Graves replied quite simply, “We thought it’d be a couple of flings, nothing more, nothing too serious- but my ass over here kept wantin’ more.” 

As much as your two “brothers” hated it, they knew he was being genuine with how his voice wavered in near embarrassment having to admit he’d become completely wrapped around your finger. Though Soap promised he’d not take his eyes off of you two any time he was near, even when you balked at it, “Aye. I’d sooner be bailed out of jail for skinning his ass if he hurts you in any way.” he warned before he turned to leave, quickly followed by Ghost who quietly waved off your irritated responses.

Once alone at last Graves turned to you, “...You uh, wouldn’t let him skin me right?” he asked, motioning to the red marks he’d left on you the night before on your neck, “I mean… they’re gonna see eventually.”

[under-the-dirt]

Hi :3

Question: could I request a one-shot with Ghost based on this song?

thank you for the ask!!! i’ve been wanting to base a one shot off a song for a bit now!! <333

sorry it took a while to respond, i was sleeping and i had to brainstorm the one shot!! but, i really hope you like it <3333

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x reader

tags: afab!reader (sorryz again it’s super hard to write gn! smut. :[), not really established relationship, smut, simon’s kinda mean, but he loves u <3, uhhh petnames, a bit of angst, UNDER 13 DNI!!!!

You and Simon had been in this ‘friends with benefits’ type deal for at least a year now, and he’d always come when you needed him, or when he needed you.

Tonight, you needed each other, as he holds you down to the bed, hands interlocked, slamming into you as you whimper and moan.

He knows you, he knows you so well, well enough to know how to turn your brain off whenever you had sex. He knew how to touch you in all the right places, to say all the right words, move the right way to slam into your g-spot with every thrust.

“A-ah Simon!” You moan, and he shushes you.

“Keep it down, love,” He reminds you. It was nighttime after all , and you were in his highly occupied base. You hated how quiet you had to be.

“Mm- mm… Simon- Simon,” You whine, and he hums, rubbing your clit gently, sending you over the edge quicker than you could have anticipated.

“‘Ave ya wanted me this much? Ya missed me this much?” He teases, collecting your cum and slick on his fingers to display to you, before lifting his mask to his nose and licking his fingers clean. You whine at the sight. “Hm.. So needy nowadays..” He purrs, leaning down and kissing your chest gently, before taking one of your sensitive nipples in his mouth and sucking gently. The sensation was so much, you hardly realized he was back to thrusting into you harder than before, messier, sloppier, and you knew he was close.

“Where d’ya want it?” He asks, still hammering into you, heavy balls slapping against soft skin, and you moan.

“Uh- ch-chest,” You instruct softly, panting for air between broken moans.

“Hm.” He grunts, slowly pulling out and pumping a few times, before releasing a low groan and a puddle of his sticky cum on your chest.

You relax against the bed with a sigh. He climbs off of you, walking to the restroom and wetting a rag with warm water. He walks back over to you and begins cleaning the cum off your chest and cleaning the mess between your legs. Once finished, he walks back to the bathroom and you can hear the shower start.

Taking this as your cue to leave, you slowly get up, trying your best to stay on your feet. Which is always one of the most difficult parts of leaving, he always fucks you so good you can’t stand and you’re sore in the morning. You wish you could just stay the night, but you know that isn’t a possibility.You have a feeling that you both have mutual feelings but.. something won’t let you in. It’s like he’s got his guard up constantly, even for you, who has been in such intimate situations with him multiple times for over a year.

You were still standing there, naked and shaking, eyes unfocused as you were lost in thought. Simon taps the doorway to his bathroom, and you look up.

“If you’re wantin’ to join me, ya could’ve just asked,” He states, and you blush.

“Oh- uhm.. it’s alright.. i- i should get going..” You explain, grabbing your underwear.

“Nah, it’s alright, stay a while,” He offers, and you can’t help but accept. You’ve wanted to forever, and you’ve never gotten the chance. You quickly follow him into the shower, sighing from the feeling of the warm water on your skin.

Suddenly, Simon wraps his arms around your waist and presses a few soft kisses to your neck.

“‘m sorry,” He whispers into your neck, and you place your hand on the back of his head.

“For what?” You ask softly, and he sighs against your skin.

“For.. For not bein’ able t’ be with you..” He explains.

“That’s how a friends with benefits kinda works..”

“No.. I want it t’ be more, Love, I really do,” He whispers, hiding his face in your neck. You’ve never, ever seen this side of him, and it was shocking.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I- I love you.. “ He says your name with such sweet sincerity, you can’t help but blush. “But.. I don’t- I don’t want to hurt you. With everything i’ve done, the person i’ve become.. I don’t, I can’t hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me, Simon.”

“But i don’t know that. And you don’t know that.”

“I do.”

“You don’t,” He whispers harshly into your neck.

“Then when will I know you? I barely see you, I’ve never even seen your face-“ You respond angrily, and as you turn around to yell at him, you realize he wasn’t wearing the mask.

“Holy fuck,” You whisper, and he presses his lips together in a tight line, unsure of your reaction. You place your hands on his cheeks, holding his face, his fucking beautiful face, rubbing his scarred skin with your thumbs. He’s so much more beautiful than you pictured. His hair is a white blonde, his eyelashes are long and full, lips plump and pink, a slight stubble on his sharp jawline, a scar across the bridge of his nose and a scar on his top lip. You pull him closer and kiss him deeply, before kissing all over his face.

He was blushing now, before feeling the water begin to grow cold.

“Alright, suppose ‘s time to ge’ out,” He chuckles, stepping out of the shower and holding out a towel for you to take. You take said towel, drying yourself off and wrapping it around yourself to get your clothes from his bedroom floor.

After getting dressed, you prepare to leave. You grab your phone and you walk out of his room, giving him a quick goodbye before leaving. You sit in your car a moment, before driving away.

He loves you, and you love him. You both know your feelings for each other, so why doesn’t he ask you out.

He wishes he could. He wishes so greatly he could, but there is part of him stopping this. Stopping him from loving you fully. A part of him will never be able to love you, and he hates that. He hates it, but he can’t change it. He’ll always have that part that won’t love you. Always.

tysm for the ask!! i loved writing this one it was sm fun!! i hope it goes with your idea, this is what i was picturing. tytyty for the ask, j love getting them!! and i love Ghost (the man and the band :3) <333

[fixfoxnox]

I know its been a minute and I know you're busy so really whenever you get a chance but more amina?? Please I love that one so much (really tho I need to stress that it is whenever you can get to it, I can be patient when I want to and I enjoy all of your writing (I just reread learn to share bc ahrksgaksgaka))

I've actually been kinda working in the background on this (even though it isn't very long lol) so its no big deal for me to finish it up for you guys!

The next one will probably take longer since its going to be straight up filth sjdjbfhdhd

Ghost watched the blank look on Soap's face, amusement wracking his system at the clear shock that was running through the other man. It was quite adorable to see the red that slowly rose up his neck and to his cheeks.

In his arms, Roach struggled lightly against his hold again. Ghost only gave him another wiggle to get him to stay still. His companion looked up at him with a pout before pointing at Soap, "Look! You broke him!"

Ghost scoffed, "I didn't break him, he just needs a moment, Bug."

Roach gave a grumble in response, "He wouldn't need a minute if I had his dick in my mouth already." Ghost shook him again in response, the little squeak his Anima let out at the movement pulled a grin to his lips.

Roach was an insatiable little demon, he knew that well enough. He'd been at the receiving end of his lust more than enough times. The shorter man was more than willing to corner him anywhere and everywhere for a quick go at each other.

He'd found himself pressed up against a wall in the locker room numerous times, his pants shoved to the ground with a hot mouth fixing itself over his cock and skilled hands fondling at his balls or using their grip on his hips to pull him closer. At one point Roach had come to him while he was in the gym, walking over and plopping down firmly in his lap while he was at one of the weightlifting benches. He'd nearly dropped the weight he was working with when Roach started palming him through his sweatpants, his Anima's own cock already out as he stroked himself quickly. Hell, Roach had even forced him into a closet on a stealth mission at one point because his hands "looked too fucking good against that gun." He hadn't been let out until he'd made his Anima spill twice with only his fingers to pleasure him.

He knew his lover was insatiable. Thats why he'd pulled him off of Soap. As excited as the thought of watching his Anima take apart Soap piece by piece made him, he knew that they needed to do things right. He and Roach wanted this to be a more permanent situation, they couldn't rush into that.

He gave Soap another few moments, remaining patient even as Roach gave little huff and puffs of annoyance in his arms. If Soap said yes, if he wanted this, then Ghost would let Roach go. With supervision of course, he couldn't just let the insatiable little thing do whatever he wanted, poor Soap might not be able to handle it. He was sure the man in front of him wasn't a virgin, but he doubted he'd ever been with someone like Roach. An Anima had a great deal of strength and great deal of stamina and once Roach fully started, it would be hard to get him to stop.

"Johnny?" He finally asked after a few minutes. He was a patient man, but Soap's blank staring had been going on for several minutes now and was beginning to border on concerning. "If you don't want this," he hesitated, anxiety rising up in his chest, "You can just say that. It won't change anything between us."

His words seemed to finally snap Soap out of wherever his mind had gone. The man looked up at them with wide eyes, just staring for a few moments as his face went delightfully red. "Oh," Roach whined in his arms, "That's so fucking cute." Ghost had to agree with him. That was fucking adorable. Roach's words only seemed to make Soap blush redder.

"Um," the man started, clearing his voice as one of his hands came up to the back of his neck, "are the two of you, I mean, are you sure? You want me?"

"I want you," Roach started, "Simon wants you, you want Simon, and, based on the way you've been trying to get a look at me for weeks, I'd assume you want me too."

Soap seemed to choke on the air he tried to breathe. Amusement filled Ghosts chest, warming him as Soap sputtered, "You noticed that?"

Roach gave him a wicked grin, his tone turning teasing as he responded, "Of course I noticed. That silly tutorial you followed was hard not to notice," he snickered a bit, ducking his head into Simon's chest to hide his laughter as clear embarrassment burned on Soap's face. "Don't worry," he said finally, turning back to face him with a coo, "If you say yes then you can see me whenever you want. However you want."

Ghost had to roll his eyes, only Roach would tease the man like that before essentially asking him if he wanted to date and fuck afterward. His Anima could be ridiculous at times. "Well," Ghost tilted his head at Soap. He had to admit, Roach was ridiculous, but he was just as eagar as him to hear Soap's answer, "What do you think? If you need some time, that's alright to, we can come back to this later."

"No!" Soap's voice rang out quickly making Ghost raise an eyebrow at him from under the mask. Soap couldn't see it, but it was clear to see that he picked up on the questioning look. He squirmed uncomfortably where he was sitting for a moment, pulling another mutter from Roach about how cute he was. "I want to." He ran his hands along his jeans, his shakey voice giving away his nerves, "If the two of you will have me, then yes."

Ghost could feel happiness blossom in his chest and he could feel a similar excitement and joy radiating off of his Anima in his arms. Roach started squirming in his hold, once again trying to get over to Soap as Ghost held him back. "This is good," Ghost said to Soap, "As you can see, Roach is very excited about it."

Soap gave a loud laugh at the same time that Roach slapped his arm. "Let me go!" Roach insisted with a whine, "He said we could have him."

"In a relationship, Bug." Ghost reminded him, "Ask permission for what you want." He pulled his mask up, taking it off and tossing it away. He gave a quick glance to Soap, noting that the other man was watching them, him particularly, with red seeping down his neck. Ghost held his gaze as he pressed slow kisses to Roach's neck, pulling a slight moan from his Anima and a gasp from Soap. "Go on, ask him," He spoke again, louder this time as he pulled away from Roach.

Roach squirmed in his hold, but met Soap's eyes from across the room. "Can I please," he batted his lashes at the other man, "please, please ride your cock?"

Ghost gave a chuckle as Soap gaped at his Anima, it was clear that the man hadn't expected him to be so forward with his request. Still, he managed to respond fairly quickly through his shock, tilting his head back with a tempting groan before responding, "Fuck yes."

With that settled, Ghost released Roach, watching in amusement as his Anima scrambled across the room to shove Soap to lay back against the bed. He straddled him quickly, his hands slipping under his shirt as he rolled his hips down onto the other man. "Finally," Roach tilted his head back with a happy little sigh before a mischievous grin took over his face. He shot a Ghost a quick look, batting his eyelashes in an oh so tempting way before turning to hover over Soap. "I am going to fucking ruin you baby."

[crazyforkasey-blog]

I will always find you

Jo

Sitting in jeep biting my nails and watching Easy company trying to take Carentan, I smiled, when i noticed a screaming Nixon, he was standing in a jeep of his own, screaming for Winters to get the men going.

The poor scared men were crouching the ditch trying to hide from the bullets that was spewing out of the German machine gun. Finally Winters got them going and I watched Nix plumbed down and relax.

My fellow agents and I had been in Carentan the night before to gathered intel about the amount of resistance the 506th could expect from theGermans.

Carentan and vital point for the troops way further in land and a thorn in the eye of the resistance. I watched Easy take the town and felt myself relax when I saw Nix was unharmed. I closed my eyes and let myself drift of fantasizing about what it would be like if I just had signed up with the regular army like my friend Anna, Easy's sharpshooter and princess.

A stone hit the side of my jeep, so much for the clever cover I thought. I looked up and noticed Anne wave at me from her vantage point. Shit I hadn't been carefull enough in my eagerness to see Nix. I waved back got out of the jeep and noticed Anna leave her cover. Shoot what now?

I met Anna on the outskirt of the town, she smiled at me " I thought that was you" Anna said and hugged me. I smiled back and kissed her cheek.

"Yeah, we were here last night and the others retreated early this morning, but I couldn't leave for some reason" I shrugged and turned my blushing face away.

Anna let out a giggle "I bet, Nix still haunting you?" she asked

I kicked a rock "Yeah I can't let him go, I even seeked him out on

D Day "

"So that was why he was so pissed" Anna laughed

"Yeah I left him in a hurry" I hugged her and turned my head towards the hedgerow not far from us a whistle sounded and I knew I had to leave.

"I have to run" I turned and left Anne standing by herself.

Nix

Anna was hiding something from me again and if I learned something tese past few months It was that whenever she avoided me it meant Jo was near by. I found Anna at her favorite spot which was where ever she could watch Speirs without him seeing her. She startled a little when I sat down next to her "Still no luck with him" I asked

She turned her blushing face away from me and told me, she had no idea what I was talking about. I laughed and put my arms around her and gave her a squeeze.

" Then how about you tell me where I can find your friend" She sighed and turned to me "You know I can't do that Nix, Jo is like a fucking ghost"

I nodded and lit a cigarette I knew she was right Jo was like a ghost, just like her friends. Standing I thought I saw a shadow cross the square.

Propably just a soldier running towards his quarters.

Jo

I stood in the dark shadow watching him talk to Anna. We were in Carentan reporting on the Germans troop and where they should expect to encounter troops when they moved out the next day.

When Nix left Anne I followed him, he crossed the square and headed towards his quarters.

I watched him open the door and I followed his path to his room. I crossed my fingers hoping he did'nt share a room with Hester when I snuck into he quarters. I listned for noise and located Nix distinct steps and followed the sound. I pushed the door open and snuck in.

Nix

I was in the midst of undressing when somebody opned my door. I turned and saw Jo stand there. In two steps I was infront of her and my mouth covered hers. We devoured each other and somehow our clothes melted of our bodies and I was on top of her, not able to stop myself I found her slick moist folds and pushed inside her, she let out a small scream of pleasure and my body took over slamming into her again and again, she clung to me pressing her fingers into my shoulderblades and wrapping her sexy legs around my waist, while I pounded into her with all my pent up feelings and lust.

After we both finished I didn't get out of bed I just held onto her with all my strength.

Jo

Sated I looked at Nix, he turned to me "Please don't leave" he whispered and kissed me

"I won't, i can stay til the morning, but then I have to leave again" I told him.

We made sweet love and we both fell a sleep. I woke when a small peeble hid the window frame. I dressed, kissed the sleeping Nix, gathered my gear and left.

[soaps-hoe-141]

Back Together

Part 31

Pairing: Soap x Ghost

WC: 4.6k

Synopsis: Oh shit he's remembering things

Warnings: Brief mentions of past torture and rape

The car ride felt like a lifetime. His mind was hyperfixating on the memories of being so pissed off he could barely think, the screams he remembered turning his throat sore while dogs tore apart his body, Ilya doing the same thing with his knife. He only wished the man had stopped at his body, instead he’d kept going until his mind had fallen apart as well. Every thought pounded in his head, his eyes shut tight against the light filtering in through the window while Ghost drove. It all played on repeat, drowning him in a sea of pain and misery.

“Soap?” Ghost’s voice cut through the waves and he glanced over at the man. There was a worried look there but he stayed focused on the road for the most part if only to ensure they didn't crash into the median.

“No, you don’t get to do that. Not to me, not right now. Christ Ghost,” he shook his head and looked up at the blue sky, anger pulsing through his mind. “We can talk when I get back, but you don’t do that to me, never again.” And then he’d left him standing there on the tarmac, staring after him and for what? To go spend weeks in a snow covered forest and even miss Christmas with his family for yet another year. He remembered being upset about it, leaving Ghost behind and being unable to finish their conversation, he knew he had wanted to stay then and discuss what it was Ghost was never supposed to again. But the anger and the need to flee some act he’d felt was committed against him outweighed those feelings nearly tenfold, a sense of almost betrayal at Ghost’s actions. And his family he’d known would be upset he was missing again for yet another year. He remembered thinking that there would be other Christmases, other holidays he would be able to see them, other days. There nearly hadn’t been.

The Scotsman looked down at his hands and answered quietly, “You aren’t going to ask me what happened Ghost? In there I mean, with command.”

He saw a shrug in the corner of his eye before Ghost rumbled out, “Figured you’d tell me if you wanted to. Whenever you were ready.”

How could this man have warranted anger like he’d felt, the hurt that had coursed through him nearly as thick as his blood? How could Ghost make him hurt so bad when his patience, his loyalty, and his friendship seemed so undoubted now? The man hadn’t left even for a day at the hospital, he’d been there every fucking second. Why couldn’t he just fuckin remember? He poked and prodded at the mesh that kept his memories from him, the voice in his mind, the dead man, begging him to stop but his begging fell on deaf ears as he kept trying.

His fists clenched, the tendons in his hands sending pain up his arm before he finally got his mouth around to answering Ghost, “They showed me the video, the footage of when I was taken. I remembered some things you know.” He could barely see it, just the slightest hint of his shoulders lifting beneath his shirt that gave away the tension he so obviously felt, “Apparently the video from that reporter made it out somehow, I saw you break the camera so thanks for that one I guess.” His mind was still bouncing around from thought to thought, bringing him back to the memory as he asked, “Why haven’t you ever asked me what happened in that factory? In between the videos I mean. What Ilya didn't show the world?”

Ghost swallowed, he could see the bob of his throat even through the thick fabric of his balaclava. It took a second before the big man finally answered, “You never asked me what happened when I was held captive. Didn’t want to make things worse for you I guess. Wouldn't want someone poking around where I didn't want them.”

Soap nodded quietly, opening a fist to run his finger over the scar on his palm, the memory making it ache before he said quietly, “They locked me in a room. No light, pure baltic, had me soakin wet. Left me in there til I was half dead with the cold, till I couldnae feel anything on my body. Not until they came back anyway, then they’d shoot me up with something that felt like fire inside ya. Warmed me up too quick, I wanted to tear my own skin off my body, couldnae stay still even when they were beating me for it. Made my heart race and my head pound but they needed me to be able to feel. Otherwise what was the point, you know?” Blue eyes shifted to the man who was silent, catching a wince in those eyes. “They waited too long one time. Don’t know what they were planning to do but they cut the tape on my feet so I kicked one of them in the nose. I never saw him move after that. I was almost out, almost free, had the other big bastard knocked out but they hit me over the back of the head with something.”

There was a pause, a lull in the conversation while Soap tried to reign in the fear of retelling his memories and Ghost remembered the man that he and Konig had found dead. “We saw him dead when we were clearing the factory.”

Another quiet moment prevailed, both of them taking in the silence as the truck rumbled beneath them. There was a slow nod from Soap as he continued, “Yeah that was Alexei. Ilya told me I killed him before he put the screws through my hands.” He swallowed hard, fingers reaching up to pull at the black mask he’d slid back over his face when they'd gotten into the truck, pulling at the hem to ensure his face was still covered. A hollow comfort he’d found in the black fabric. “By that point I couldn’t remember barely anything though, I was losing myself I think. When the camera turned off he stuck a metal rod to my back, burned the fuck out of me I don't even remember how many times. The worst part though? It made me hungry. How do you smell your own burning flesh and get hungry, Ghost?” He felt a sob trying to claw out of him, but forced it back down, blinking a couple times to clear his eyes before he ended up bawling in this man’s passenger seat.

The man beside him cleared his throat before answering, “They were starving you Soap. The mind will do anything to keep itself alive.” Eyes burned him until he finally looked up, catching sight of the hazel depths he wished he could live in for the rest of time. He’d be safe there, that he knew for a fact.

Finally the Scotsman managed a nod, “I guess. It was then I really started forgetting I think. I couldn’t remember anyone, their faces. The team’s faces. I didn’t have anybody to keep me going then, I just knew I was going to die alone and I didn’t want anyone to see that. I knew that I wasn’t me, if that makes sense.” He glanced up to find Ghost giving him an understanding nod and a voice in his mind whispered, ‘He knows better than anyone else ever could.’ There was a feeling that made it very clear the voice was speaking the truth, only Ghost knew what he was feeling right now. “After they stopped the recording, when the gun went off Ilya,” the name drew a shiver from him still whenever he spoke or heard it. “Ilya left me with that man you found me killing. He- He uh,” the words refused to come out. No one had been privy to this information yet, not a single soul on the hospital staff and not even command when they'd been pressing him for information.

There was another strangled sob in his throat that he disguised as a cough as the memory lit up his mind. “You don’t have to tell me if you aren’t ready Soap,” fucking Christ why did he have to be so patient. It made him weak, made him feel fragile when all he wanted was to feel like a force of nature again. To be the man he'd seen in that footage earlier, unstoppable even on the brink of death, “I’m sorry that you had to go through that, all of it. Especially alone.”

The words had his chest tightening before he sniffed quickly, wiping the tears before they spilled. He wasn’t going to cry, not now. Soap knew that he had to be able to recount his experience, and no one made him feel safer, like he could tell them without judgment, than the man beside him. Memory of anger or not, he knew Ghost cared about him enough that he wouldn’t feel ashamed the second he said it. “The man you and Konig found me with. When Ilya left he, uh, he raped me, Ghost.” There it was, and when he looked up he saw an even expression staring back at him. Hands tightened on the steering wheel turning his bare knuckles even whiter than they already were. “More than once.” His stomach twisted painfully at the memory watching the Lieutenant’s reaction and fearing the worst.

Ghost only gave him a quiet nod and answered, “I’m sorry. We should have been there sooner and I’m sorry for that.” The emotions licked at the edges of the dam, threatening to spill over. Threatening to cut straight through the thick walls he’d been steadily building.

When he turned his eyes back to the road the shame still burned. Admitting that another person had violated him, and another man at that, made his skin crawl, the memories surging around him not helping in the slightest. "It wasn't your fault. I killed that one too but you already knew that." He saw Ghost nod, glancing up when the truck turned sharply into the parking lot of an apartment complex. He still didn't remember the place, his brows furrowing as he tried to recall the information. "What's this?" He turned a questioning look towards Ghost.

The big man gestured with a nod, "Your apartment complex. You live right up there." When Soap turned his eyes up, looking at the place with even more confusion, the big man asked, "Do you not remember it?"

His head shook and Soap answered, "This place doesn't look right. Doesn't feel like home. Are you sure?" Blue eyes shot to the driver who gave him a quick nod in answer. Soap sighed and shrugged, "Maybe I'll remember when we get inside then." He opened the door and headed for the stairs, hand digging in his pocket for the set of keys he had. Ghost was right behind him as he climbed the stairs slowly, a woman passing by them and giving the both of them a weird glance before hurrying past not wanting to get mixed up in whatever they were doing. 

Soap stopped when Ghost cleared his throat, turning to watch the man glance at the door he'd passed. He stared at it for a long moment before surprise found his eyes, "Oh! Oh right. Sorry." He slid his key into the lock, trying to turn it though it stuck, not wanting to respond properly. A sheepish look found his gaze as he glanced up sideways at Ghost muttering again, "I'm sorry," pulling the keys out of the lock they fell to the ground. "Shite, I'm sorry," his voice was beginning to wobble, the emotions of the day threatening to drown him once more. He reached down picking the set of keys up and trying again, and still the door stayed stubbornly locked in front of them. "Fuck, I-I’m sorry."

"It's ok Soap, let me try," the large hand reached out for the keys which the Scotsman readily handed over. When the key still wouldn't turn even for the big man they glanced at one another. "It's alright come on," Ghost motioned for him to follow as they headed back down the stairs to the office on the first floor.

A skinny middle aged man opened the door when the Lieutenant knocked. "Um, what can I do for you?" He was looking between the both of them obviously confused as to why they were at his door right now.

Ghost lifted the keys in his hand, "Doesn't work." The man's brows furrowed and the Lieutenant clarified, "Apartment 307, key doesn't work. Last name MacTavish"

The landlord's brows rose then, seemingly surprised, "You mean the young man from the news? John MacTavish? He's dead and his lease was up. No one ever came to collect his things so we gave someone else the lease."

Hollow, that was how he felt. Not even his name could break through that shell that he'd been building to protect himself from something like this. Blue eyes fell to the ground, missing the heat of anger that flared in Ghost's eyes before the big man asked, "So then where are his things? What'd you do, throw them out?"

The man answered quickly, seeming to fear his demise at the behemoth standing in front of him, "N-No sir. We sold them to a second hand store down the road. The furniture was still good and they agreed to take the personal items as well so they just came in and cleaned out the apartment. Clothes, furniture, everything."

Ghost was staring hard now, and when Soap looked up he could see the rage just barely contained there. Rather than let it burst out on the man he tugged at the dark shirt he was wearing, getting the attention of those hazel eyes and muttering, "Let's go Ghost." It was hard to control the tears welling up now as he turned and headed back for the truck. He was so tired, he'd been through PT, an interrogation by his own commanding officers, and now this shit that was all just snowballing at this point. When he finally made it back to the black truck, leaning against it for a moment to rest his leg, everything was starting to spill over.

When the other man came around his shoulder, worried eyes looking down at him he couldn't take it anymore. He shot forward, arms wrapping around a thick torso as his body shook with quiet sobs, hiding his face from the Lieutenant, hiding his shame and his fears and his tears. They flowed freely now, unstoppable as the dam shattered inside him. Everything he'd had to deal with, every emotion he'd been subjected to since his capture, every ounce of pain that ripped through his body every time he fucking moved found its way onto the black shirt Ghost was wearing. The scent of pine enveloping him in a cocoon, protecting him from the rest of the world as arms wrapped hesitantly around his back. The big man was unsure still, worried he might just make things worse but when Soap's face pressed into the valley between his pecs and his body came flush with the other muscled frame they both sank into the touch. "Hey Johnny it's ok shh."

That nickname should have made him flinch, should have made him want to get away, but it didn't stop at the first four letters of his name. 'Johnny.' Memories surged from behind the fraying mesh that had been holding them at bay. Pouring into his mind with cruel intent. 'Johnny, we're Johnny. Only Lt calls us Johnny.' The dead man spoke in his mind and not even the well of his tears could stop him from sputtering out, "Only you call me Johnny, Lt."

Face still buried he felt arms pull him closer, a chin resting on the top of his head as the man whispered an answer, "That's right Johnny. No one else, just me." The Scotsman could only manage a nod, the sobs retaking their hold on his stuttering breaths.

------- (Ghost POV)

He was barely holding it together. Ever since he'd squatted behind that door listening to Soap's panic attack through the door he'd barely been keeping hold of his own emotions. Never, in a million years, would he have thought that this man, this Scotsman he'd once been so exasperated by, could take over his mind so completely. This man, his Scotsman, could bring him so close to the emotional edge that he was nearly tipping into the boiling volcano that were his feelings. Soap was clinging to him so tightly it was nearly squeezing the breath from his lungs and all he could think was, ‘Fuckin finally’.

Ghost couldn't believe it, the Sergeant was actually touching him. Seeking comfort in the embrace that had been glaringly absent until now. His own arms were wound tight around him, providing the safety and comfort that Soap was so desperately searching for. Nothing could have pulled him away from this moment. Relief was washing over him while he finally got to touch him again after fearing that he’d never get the opportunity to do so again. He only wished it was under better circumstances, that this wasn't merely a bandage for the open wound that he knew was in Soap's heart right now.

It wasn't until those sobs finally faded, and the salty tears that were soaking the front of his shirt were beginning to dry that the face buried in his chest finally pulled backwards. He lifted his chin, glancing down into azure hues he'd once feared that he'd never see again. "Better Johnny?"

There was a slow nod before the strained voice answered, "Much, Lt."

"Then let's go get your stuff back," they separated slowly. Soap had to take a moment to regain his balance with his stiff leg before he headed around the truck to the other side. They both climbed in, the Lieutenant reaching forward to turn the radio on quietly knowing that the Scotsman had always preferred it to the quiet of riding.

He felt eyes watching him, for once it was him who a hole was being bored into. “I remember some things Ghost,” there was a quiet glance in the direction of the other man before he gave a low grunt, questioning what it was. “I remember that I nearly died when we fell out of a plane,” he nodded along quietly letting the Scotsman recount his memories in his own time. “I remember the city where we found Suheil. You and I, we were partnered up together. I killed a kid in the stairwell,” he saw the eyes fall down to his hands, both of them remembering the child they’d seen hiding underneath the stairs. “But we saved Konig,” a bit of the light came back in his eyes, “We saved someone at least. So we do save people?” The azure eyes found him again and Ghost gave another quiet nod, feeling a bit of relief when he saw the Scotsman take a deep breath.

When the truck pulled into the parking lot the big man parked and turned to look at Soap in the passenger seat. “We do save people Johnny, and you’re not a bad man. You gave that boy a quick death, it was better than what he was going to get otherwise.” The Scotsman nodded slowly, still sorting through the memories that were coming back before he cleared his throat and nodded towards the store, “Come on, let’s go get your stuff?”

The store was small, and for the most part devoid of other patrons. The young girl behind the register didn’t even look up when they entered, not until the two men neared and her eyes blew so wide he was afraid they were about to pop out. She blanched at the both of them until Johnny asked, “Hey did you pick up some things from an apartment complex recently? Furniture, clothes, some personal things?” The poor teenager was eyeing them both now, gaze flicking back and forth between them. Completely unable to answer the two men both wearing balaclavas like they’d just come straight from a bank heist or something.

It wasn’t until an older woman came out from the back that someone actually spoke to them, “Oi! Can I help you two with something?” Both of their heads turned to find her as she walked their way, “Well? Can I?”

Ghost looked down at Soap, staying quiet now that the Scotsman seemed to be feeling a bit more like his talkative self. “Yeah, I’m trying to find my things. The apartment complex down the street sold all my stuff to ya and I was wondering if ya could help me find it.”

The woman glanced between the both of them before asking, “You mean the apartment they hired us to clean out cause that kid didn’t renew his lease?” Soap gave her a quick nod in answer, “We’ve sold just about everything already. The furniture some university kids got and the clothes went to one of those homeless shelters, doubt you’ll ever get either of those back.”

His face fell, Ghost could see the light that had been reignited beginning to dim again and it hurt him deeper than he ever thought it could. In that place that he still wasn’t sure was real, the soul that lived only when Soap was around to make it so. It was that dying light he could see in his eyes that finally had Ghost speaking up, “What about the pictures and things? The personal stuff that you took.”

It took her a moment as she tried to think and then she gave them both a shrug, “I’m not sure really. I’m sure some of it is still back there but I haven’t been able to do inventory yet this week.” Soap took a step back, eyes casting down to the floor so lost in his mind again Ghost knew he’d have done anything to stop his racing thoughts. The woman got around to it first though, “If you want you can go have a gander lads. Please, just don’t steal anything, yeah? We sell things to people who need them ok, we barely make ends meet as it is. You promise you won’t steal anything and you’re free to go have a look.”

Azure eyes lifted to her and the Scotsman gave a quick nod, “Thank ye, ma’am. I appreciate it, I really do.” The light returned and he felt at ease once more, giving the woman a quick nod as well as she led them into the back where countless things were strewn about haphazardly.

They both moved slowly into the backroom as the woman disappeared with a cart of things to fill the shelves of her small store. Ghost looked around at everything and then gestured towards the other side of the room, “I’ll take one side, you take the other?”

Soap gave him a slow nod, “Aye, sounds good to me Lt.” And so they split up, one of them going one way and the other heading off to the far side. They cleared the room not unlike they swept through buildings when they were training. It was careful and methodical, both searching for anything that might have belonged to the Sergeant before being ripped from his apartment indelicately.

He was rummaging through a stack of books when the one next to it fell over. Hazel eyes widened, “Fuck,” he muttered quietly as he began to restack them neatly like they had been arranged before he’d messed them up. When he turned to pick one up though he froze, staring down at a sketch of himself, well of his mask anyway. His hands froze, hovering over the sketch and feeling a sense of deja vu, like he’d done this before. Seen drawings he wasn’t supposed to have seen.

It took a few moments to compose himself before he reached down to pick up the sketchbook that was sitting open to the world now. He swallowed hard, flipping through the pages slowly. Every single one was of him, standing on the tarmac with his helmet on about to ship off at General Shepherd’s command. In the downed helicopter while they were fighting for their lives and those of the rest of the team stuck inside with them. When they’d found the missile container and had to report it to that traitorous American bastard. He flipped through them with greedy eyes, heart racing in his chest and feeling emotions finally after holding them at bay for so long now.

He’d almost lost this man completely, and he had lost a part of him in that factory that he doubted he’d ever get back. Ghost had refused to let himself think about it until now, until Soap had cried into his chest shaking in his arms. That had nearly broken him then and there, but this? This was breaking him, cutting through him so easily he didn’t even feel the tears on his face until they were soaking into the balaclava and falling onto the pages.

He flipped to the last page, staring down at his face, eye black still covering his eyes and scars drawn so prominently. It was before they’d gone after Graves when he’d first taken off the mask in front of Soap. He lifted a clenched fist to his mouth, shoulders hunching as he fought to control himself. Soap had nearly died, he had lost himself in that factory and he hadn’t been able to stop it, hadn’t even been able to comfort him. And now here he was lying to the poor man, hiding their relationship and their fight like an idiot.

“I felt like I was intruding on your privacy so I stopped drawing.” The Scotsman’s voice was quiet behind him. It was Ghost’s turn to feel like a mess though, voice caught in his throat and refusing to turn around to meet the eyes he knew were on him now. Soap came into view at his side then, fingers running over the drawing lightly before he turned to look up at him. “It felt wrong to draw your face without your permission, Simon.” A strangled sound ripped out of his throat then, it was the first time he’d heard his name come out of Soap’s mouth since he’d been back.

The big man turned slowly, afraid he might do something hasty if he wasn’t careful, afraid that he’d end up hurting Soap even more than he already had. He didn’t have to make the first move though, that was what Soap was good at, he always had been. Arms slipped around his torso and his reaction was immediate and instinctual. Ghost pulled the masked face against him, his tears soaking Johnny’s shirt this time.

“I’m so sorry Johnny,” he felt like he was losing himself in the scent of sandalwood and trying to drown himself in it. It’d been absent for so long he had been certain he’d never get to breathe it in again. “I missed you so much sweetheart.” His fingers curled into the muscle of his shoulder, hanging on for dear life as he tried to ground himself with the weight of the man in his arms.

Soap’s fingers rubbed into his back slowly before he whispered back, “It wasn’t your fault, Ghost.” A soothing noise came from the Scotsman before he whispered again, “I missed you too, m’eudail.”