#since they always stay in their ghost form

[ghouldtime]

Scare Actor! Ghost

No thoughts, head empty. Only full of Scare Actor! Ghost

Scare Actor! Ghost who:

Only thought of the idea after seeing an ad for one on the telly one day. He immediately thought back to his brother Tommy and their youth

Though he didn't have fond memories then of the skull masks Tommy used to wear to freak him out as he grew up, he'd long since adjusted to it and wore his usual mask at work in part as memory (as well as for anonymity and intimidation)

Wearing the mask also helped him separate 'Ghost' from 'Simon', but Simon still hung onto the masks in remembrance of his brother. Carrying that part of him, even if he had long since passed away, helped him stay connected to why he kept fighting for the world

Seeing the masks and actors trying to get a scare out of others brought him back to specific memories of his brother, nostalgia flowing through him in a bittersweet way

What better way than to keep his memory alive than to partake in such things? Though the difference is people at haunted houses were ones who WANTED to be scared, he's not there to create anything more than good memories

Luckily he has that large form and intimidating nature that make him a natural at it - it meant getting hired was a breeze and doing his job came naturally

Usually is cast as a butcher character. He did work as a butcher so he already knows the routine. And he fits the role. He's a big beefy dude who can work a knife. Hauling fake carcasses is easy work as is standing there, twirling fake knives

Has a variety of masks. He doesn't usually wear plain skull ones because it's too... basic most times for such an environment. He wants to keep that work separate and not chance anyone recognizing him.

He has a zombified face, a Frankenstein pig's head, and a boar's skull mask - he has them with him so he can switch if needed mid-job

Made the masks himself. He thought the ones offered in stores weren't to his vibe and felt too cheap and inauthentic. Not to mention, he already made his skull mask for his main job. Soap wasn't fully wrong when he joked about the mask making

Is skilled in a variety of crafting techniques that he's picked up over the years due to needing something to keep him busy in his down-time so he can feel productive and keep himself mentally there

Quickly becomes a fan favorite. Not only did he have the intimidation factor, but he had the mysterious, haunting vibe that drew people in

Is a natural at hiding in the shadows and moving silently. Stealth is his middle name which means he's getting the best jump scares there are

Can follow the group throughout the house for ages before they realize something is off. They only know when it's too late

Doesn't keep to a routine. He knows better than to stick to predictability. It keeps things refreshing and means if anyone dares to go through twice, they won't be experiencing the same thing

Usually isn't a chaser or one who runs after. Instead he's methodical and calculated as he tracks movement throughout the building, herding the crowd to the right area and picking them off one by one

Figures that cold, calculating steps as his 'victim' of the night is cornered with no way out is a whole lot scarier than just screaming and chasing them

Enlists the help of junior scare-rs, aka the kids going through. The little menaces who try to spook the scare actors or who put on a brave face as usually taken aside by him to help get at their parents or friends (it's always worth it to see the looks on their faces)

He's still a gentle giant. He might be playing the role of a cannibalistic butcher or a crazed serial killer, but if someone appears particularly distressed, he'll leave them be or will even take them aside and behind the scenes if they're clearly not enjoying it

Is well loved by any haunted house he works at. Due to his crafting skills, he's often helping out the props department. His strategic thinking means he can coordinate better scares among the actors too and adapt to everyone's strengths which creates a WAY better atmosphere where everyone can be in their element

Works with the makeup department, helping to correct their work to make sure it's the most realistic looking gore-y effects when possible. He never says how he knows why it would look like that, but sure enough, it always looks better when they listen to him

I love Scare actor! Ghost. I need to write for him for REAL and there's a reader insert on the way as a WIP cause I can't get it out of my head

(I'd love to write a haunted house actors AU for TF 141 and the other guys/gals too 😭)

[prince-jjae]

In My Imagination. ㅡ h.k. [ceilings. pt2]

pairing;

huening kai/gn!reader

genre;

FLUFF. so much fluff. smut. mdni!!! i know i said itd be angsty but im a liar.

tags;

barista!reader, implied jealous taehyun, barista!taehyun, beomgyu being a sassy mf, daydreaming, plushie humping, coming untouched, masturbating, facefucking(mentioned as a daydream), mentions of aftercare, so much fluff omg.

part 1. tyun ending. masterlist.

summary;

"but that look in your eyes, and that smile it makes me want to stay here in this room.. pretending youre pretending too."

hueningkai was never really one for intense, whirlwind romances, but he just couldnt help himself with you. you, who stared up at him with shocked eyes, as if his very presence was the answer to your every prayer. when you looked at him like that, how could he not fall madly in love with you?

Ever since that first fateful morning, Huening Kai made it a staple of his routine to order coffee from your shop every day. He would wait in line, an unknown antsy feeling clawing up his spine as he bounced on the balls of his feet. He was impatient, but blissfully unaware of the reason why. 

He tried not to read too much into it, but he knew you were the cause. How could you not be, when you stumbled over your words and actions whenever he got close? You lit up the room brighter than any sun, and he was firmly convinced that science had it all wrong. 

The world didn't revolve around the sun. it revolved around you.

You, with your cold exterior and sharp gaze that melted even the slightest bit, warmed by his presence, sizzled under his touch. He kept plausible deniability, at first. Just brushes of his fingertips against yours as he paid or when you handed him his drink with the same phrase as always.

“Have a good day.” And have a good day, he did. He doesnt think hes ever experienced days so good in his life until now.

It had been around 2 weeks of this routine and 4 days of relentless teasing from his roommate beomgyu, when it happened.

The dreams.

It started as nothing, really, at first. Just daydreaming of actually mustering up the courage to have a conversation with you for once. Something beyond just ordering egg tarts and a coffee. What were your interests? What did you like, dislike, love, hate? He wanted to know everything, so naturally his mind filled in the blanks.

He daydreamed, nearly constantly. Always about you, always about how your voice felt like heavy whipping cream, drowning him in the sweetest of marshmallow fluff. He could listen to you talk for hours. He supposed he had, in a way, since he fantasized about you so often.

It was around a month after your first meeting with him that the dreams became more than just conversations he wished he could have. They morphed into romantic fantasies. Your hands were so soft, the few times he barely ghosted his fingers to your skin. He wondered what it'd feel like to hold them properly? To warm them after a day of playing in the snow? To swing between your bodies after watching a movie at the cinema?

And your lips.. the plushness of them, the way they formed around words and made them sweet no matter the context. God, he wondered how sweet they would taste. How soft would they feel against his own? Would they make him sweet by sheer contact?

He sat, sipping his coffee, egg tarts long since finished as he stared out the café window. He desperately wanted to stare at you, instead, but anytime he caught himself, your intimidating coworker was glaring pure death directly at him. It was startling enough to deter him.. but only physically. Mentally, he couldn't be deterred by God himself, he thought. Your being haunted him in the sweetest of ways, clinging to his skin and singing in his veins like a poison. 

“This cannot be healthy, dude. Just fuckin talk to them? Why drag me here if you're just gonna gawk?” Beomgyu huffed, bottom lip pulling into a dramatic pout as he slumped in his seat. He poked at his empty coffee cup, scowling at it with disdain. The two had definitely been here too long, and Beomgyu was itching to go home already.

Kai frowned, taking another long sip of his cold coffee, letting the silence between them stretch until Beomgyu shifted uncomfortably. Satisfied, Kai opened his mouth to reply with a hushed whisper.

“I'll talk to them, eventually.. I just wanted to treat you to coffee.” Came his reply. It was a lame excuse, if it could even count as an excuse to begin with. Beomgyu's eyes narrowed in challenge as he sat forward, pointing an accusing finger at Kai.

“you need to stop being such a pussy. You didn't drag me here to treat me and we both know it.” Kai's shoulders sagged in defeat, stealing a glance your way only to catch your coworkers eyes again. He promptly broke eye contact and blinked at Beomgyu, a nervous blush rising to his cheeks. Beomgyu just smirked at the pathetic reaction, head tilting to the side cockily. “See? Pussy.”

It had been four months after your first interactions when his dreams shifted.. again.

No longer were they sickeningly sweet, bringing a pretty flush to his cheeks. No, now they brought a flush to his cheeks in a different way. Now he buried his head in his hands, desperately willing the thoughts to go away when in public. But in private? He reveled in them. 

He had always collected plushies, adorable varieties of characters piled onto his bed and shelves, but now he viewed their innocence in a.. different light. Now, all he could think of when he saw the black cat plushie was you. Your initial indifference, your subsequent innocence and sleek beauty. 

He couldn't help it. You did this to him, after all. He was desperate, whining and puffing out meaningless apologies to the black plush below him as he rutted into it. He was desperate. Every movement was fueled by a different memory of you. The way your glasses slid down your nose, the way said nose would crinkle when you laughed. The way you would roll your eyes at a lame joke your coworker told you, the way youd poke your tongue out of your mouth when you focused on making coffees.

God help him, that tongue. That was what he fantasized about the most, these days. How would it feel to tangle your tongue with his? How would it feel to become so intimate with you, so sloppy that drool pooled and spilled over your lips and chin. He wondered how talented that tongue would be when he stuffed your face with his cock. God, what a thought. Choking on it, your pretty whines.. Would your eyes roll back? Would you moan around him? Would you get so aroused by the action of him fucking your pretty mouth that youd drip all over the floor?

His hips stuttered, pretty whines and a long, drawn out moan falling from his lips as he came. It matted the fur of the poor plushie under his hips, but he couldnt focus on that. No, he was still deep in his daydreams, imagining how hed take care of you, how he'd be so gentle with you.. guide you to the bathroom to clean you up, perhaps even carry you if you asked-

Twenty minutes later, he decided the stickiness was too much to bear. Once he was clean, he took the walk of shame to the laundry room, plush cat tucked in his arms to hide the sin he had spilled on them. But when he looked up at met Beomgyu's eyes in the living room, Kai knew his secret was no longer his own.

It was six months after your first meeting when he finally got the confidence to talk to you. God, he was right. You were everything he dreamed youd be. You were hilarious, your deadpan humor making him laugh harder than he ever had before in his life. He chatted with you while you washed the counters, swept the floors, made coffees. You had a closing shift today, and he had been there since the morning, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He spent the whole day talking to you, about everything he ever wanted to talk to you about. He learned your hobbies, your likes, dislikes, hatreds and passions. You were perfect. 

The two of you had been so engrossed in one another that the store was closing before you both realized. Not even the glare of your coworker – Taehyun, he learned – could sway him. He smiled, bright as ever when he glanced outside, seeing it was dark out. You were locking up the store, Taehyun was already halfway to his own car when he spoke up.

“I could walk you to your car, if you'd like? it's dark out…” He trailed, eyeing you for any potential discomfort. It melted into a pleasant smile after you nodded, inviting him along for the short walk. You two walked slowly, however, not yet wanting to separate just yet. He was infatuated, worse than he initially thought. Maybe Beomgyu was right, he was in love with you. He was entirely, wholeheartedly in love with a perfect stranger. And perhaps it was selfish of him when he asked for your number, clinging to hope that you were just as enamored as he was. 

And maybe it was the look in your eyes when you handed his phone back to him, your number saved in his phone with a pretty typed out heart next to your name; maybe it was the sweetness of the coffee still on his tongue.. but he really hoped you were dreaming of him, too.

[creationsofimaginationsblr]

.

[bunnys-kisses]

"ex" husband

simon "ghost" riley

cw: pwp/smut, ex husband!simon, possessive!simon, dark themes, mirror sex & other smut, major red flags, proceed with caution, bad husband!simon, manipulation

bunny says: once you fuck crazy, you never not fuck crazy

simon didn't believe in divorce. he made a vow to be with you till death, he wasn't going to skimp out on the years you could spend together. he wouldn't accept that you wanted to be without him.

he had you on the floor of your shared bedroom, you were holding onto him behind yourself while his hands were on your hips. he was rubbing his cock up against your slick entrance.

"have you had any other guys over? fuckin' them in my bed, in my home that i paid for?" he held it over your head as he watched your face contort with pleasure. he continued to rub his tip up against your slit.

"no, simon." you panted. your heart raced with every moment that passed. your body was hot all over. "i haven't had anyone else, not since you." your pussy clenched around nothing in anticipation for what was to come. you were almost certain that your cunt was formed to the size of his cock.

"good, good. i don't want some fuckin' prick comin' to my home and fuckin' my girl." his voice was low as he got a hand between your legs and touched your clit with his rough fingers.

you arched your back and moaned out loud. you could be as loud as you needed to be. he kept his wife in a home far enough from everything that you could whimper and whine to your heart's content. your eyes fluttered closed as you felt the thrill of pleasure through your body.

"nothin' can have ya. no stupid asshole who thinks he can have what is mine. you made a promise, love. to be loyal to your husband." he growled as he gripped your jaw with his other hand and made you look into the mirror, "i don't think someone who wants to leave her husband would be lettin' him fuck her in their bedroom."

"simon, please." you whimper.

"nah, nah, love.' he said, accent heavier due to the immense lust in his body, "i was a good man to you. lovin', carin', did everythin' for ya. and you turn around like an ungrateful brat and try to leave me." his voice was getting deadly. his hand still held your jaw and his other played with your clit. you were stuck to him, "fuckin' slag. surprised you haven't fucked your way through the neighborhood to find a new man. because you'd never find one like me. or you're scared. scared i'd find him, and make him go missin'."

you swallowed, fear struck through you, "simon. i didn't sleep with anyone."

he buried his nose into your hair and groaned as his cock still prodded your pussy lips, "i know, i know. you don't actually want to leave me. your girlfriends got these thoughts into your head that i don't think are true. better without me? love, i made you."

you panted heavily, it was hard to look into the mirror with his hot words into your mouth. maybe he was right, maybe you didn't want to leave him. he had given you everything throughout your entire marriage. why would you sacrifice it?

he pulled his hand away from your pussy and guided his cock into your pussy. the stretch had you gripping onto him. the angle was awkward but he had you contorted to fit his pleasure.

"my good wife." he purred, "i'll always love you. even when you're not usin' that head of yours right. but don't worry." he kissed your cheek, "i'll always take care of my girl."

you held onto him as he thrusted into your from behind. you felt the air leave your lungs whenever he pushed into you. it was an intense feeling on your behalf. you had never imagined that fucking your soon-to-be ex-husband would feel so good.

"like that, love?"

you nodded meekly, "it feels good."

"that's a good girl." he groaned, "made perfectly for me. you are such a good girl for me, love. why would you want to go anywhere? stay with me, keep your vow."

your thighs quivered from the intense feeling of pleasure. your breathing was heavy and your head felt full. your heart leapt every time his cock nudged against a sensitive spot.

"please, simon. i can't be your wife."

"you can. and you will." he took you by the face and tilted your head back so he could kiss you passionately.

you melted into the kiss, as did the last of your resolve. your core throbbed with a need for him. he melted away all your problems. the more he fucked you, the more you wanted to stay with him.

he was your husband after all.

the sex between you two was hot and messy. it made you core soaked as he continued to bully his cock into your sweet cunt with every hard thrust.

"say you love me."

"i love you." you replied, your eyes hooded.

"good girl." he groaned, "i want to hear that every day until you can no longer speak." he licked across your bottom lip, "my good girl."

you whined as your body shook with each thrust of his hips. your pussy clenched around his cock. you felt your mouth to be dry and you voice strained.

simon loved taking you apart, only to put you back together. he continued to fuck you with abandon. he gazed at you with his nose in your hair as he thrusted up into you.

your noises were so cute, you really just were so small compared to him. you needed him! what were you thinking leaving him? you needed your big strong military husband to make sure that you were safe. don't be silly now!

he kissed your neck as he felt the surge of pleasure in his gut. his heart hammered with each every thrust. you were made for him. as he kissed the tip of your ear, he felt the blush that spread across your skin.

"please, simon."

"i got ya, love." he said, "i got ya." with a few more thrusts that hit in just the right place. you saw stars as you climaxed around his cock. his was soon to follow as his cum hit the back of your womb.

where it belonged.

as you rested your face on the carpet of the bedroom in an effort to cool down, simon grabbed your hips and started to thrust into you once more. his cock still painfully hard.

"you've done enough damage, love. so just sit there and let your husband take care of you." his voice was low and deadly. your best option would to just let simon do what he wanted.

-

"so mrs. riley. you've decided against the divorce. any particular reason why?"

you relaxed a little bit in the sleek office chair across the desk from your lawyer. your hand was on your middle as you smiled, "well, we're having a son soon, and he needs his father in his life. so i reconsidered."

"the case against your husband is fairly strong. broken locks on the door, his overly possessive behaviour, the text messages and voice mails, all of it. you could be granted a divorce quite easily."

you shook your head, "no need. we've worked it out." you smiled at the lawyer. you knew your simon was waiting for you in the car. his words echoed in your mind as you assured your lawyer that her services weren't needed.

you and simon were properly a family now. you didn't need to tear it apart. after all, how else were you going to end up with many little rileys running around?

[gilverrwrites]

Discretely touching them down there to their parts and gently squeezing when no one is looking and them not being able to do anything (since it's in public).

Ft. Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, & Roy. AN: Anon you're a menace and I love ya!

Bruce

You get exactly one, which he acknowledges with a stern pout and a cocked brow. Flawlessly concealing the fire you’ve ignited but for his laboured breathing and blown-out pupils. You’re walking a thin line, behaving like a brat in front of Gotham’s elite.

If he sees you reaching for him again, and trust, he will see; it will take him precisely 0.8 seconds to lock you in an unsuspecting death grip and pull you close. He wants you to feel the increased tempo of his heart against your chest. To feel the growing stiffness of his hard-on grazing your hip as he tells you assertively to; “Behave.”  

Dick

Dick sees your game; he raises you tenfold. He knows you’re up to something when he clocks the determined bite of your lips as you survey the subway car, and the mischievous glint in your eye as you look back at him. When your hand snakes under this shirt, caressing his v-lines, he juts his hips forward, presenting himself to you; daring you to take it further.

When you sink your fingers below his waistband he sucks in a deliberately loud breath. You freeze to survey your surroundings, but Dick does not. Dick starts grinding on you until he senses you growing nervous. He locks a sturdy hand around your elbow just in time to prevent you from pulling away, leans in close and whispers; “What’s wrong baby? Thought you wanted to play?”

Jason

“Is that a gun in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?” You giggle at your own joke, because Jason is always packing some form of heat. He might have laughed too, might have trapped your wrist in his hands and rocked against your outstretched palm if you’d been at home, or the club, or even the casino. But not the fucking grocery store, you little perv.  

“Are you drunk?” He offers you an out, glaring down at you with a gaze fierce enough to make a nun blush. You respond with a brazen-faced shake of your head, and he can’t help but imitate it out of disbelief at your cocky attitude. You stay like that, locked in a stare of, rock vs hard place, until Jason cracks first, noticing a couple rounding the corner at the other end of the aisle.

He grabs your arm with an unapologetic level of force, spinning you around and trapping you between his body and the trolley. Hiding his hardness by pressing it against your back. “You’re in for it later.”

Tim

Tim is the most taken aback. His pale blue eyes are rapidly examining your surroundings the moment he feels your devious fingers ghosting over the top of his thigh. He’s cute when he’s flustered, with pink cheeks and blown-out pupils. Nobody is looking, too focused on the conference speaker.

“What are you doing?” He hisses, but before he can get his words out, your hand is gone, casually pulling a non-existent thread from your sleeve.

You don’t reply, you just smile and shoot him a playful wink which puts him even more on edge. So much so that when you abruptly return, this time cupping his half-hard cock through his jeans that he fucking flinches. His knee hits the chair in front, and he sucks in a loud breath, earning him many pointed glares from multiple members of the audience.

“Babe.” Be tries to warn, but his hushed breathy tone makes him sound exactly as aroused as he feels.

Roy

You get it, you do. It was a long trip, and he’s starving but you’ve really been feeling his absence over the last few weeks, and the fact that you’re currently sat in a Burrito Bucket, watching Roy devour a tray of tacos, instead of being at home and watching him devour you, is a problem.

He seems to have noticed your sulking, but too late. “You okay ho- “

His question is halted by your foot tactfully situating itself between his legs. His gaze flits between his food and you, defiant eyes watching you through a mop of shaggy hair. A knowing grin spreads across his queso-stained lips as you answer faux-sweetly. “I’m fine, baby.”

“Right.” He huffs, breath hitching, freckled cheeks turning red when you press your toes down and something firm pushes back. He knows what you want, but he just loves to play dumb. So, he takes another bite, jerking every time you tap or roll your foot but never acknowledging what you’re silently begging for. “Is this one of those things where you say you’re fine, but actually you’re not fine?”

“I’m going home.” You finally concede with an exaggerated sigh, dropping your foot back to the floor and gathering your things.

“I’m coming with you.” He’s on you the moment you stand, draping his arm over you and placing kisses to the side of your neck, your face, whatever he can reach as you struggle to move with his deadweight over your shoulders. Notably, there’s still half a tray of uneaten tacos left on the table. “Funnily enough, I’m hungry for something else now.”

Taglist: @wandalfnation

[tiny-space-platypus]

Never really fit back in

aside part 1

(Stories that I just can't get out of my head but don't forget in main plot)

Damian and Danny act like feral fucking cats thrown into an enclosed room together. The others have learned quickly that the boys CAN NOT be left in a room alone together or they'll both end up bloody and bruised. Well Danny will end up blood and Damian will end up bruised. But! If someone else is in the room they are the sweetest brothers to each other. Laughing, jokingly, hell Damian smiles, but once they're alone all hell breaks loose.

It's worse than when Damian used to try and kill Tim. At least then he at least tried to be sneaky about it but with Danny? No, Damian will walk up to Danny and just stab him for no other reason than he can and Danny, Danny just laughs and takes the blade saying something like "it's in me so it's mine now" then going to throw Damian in a choke hold.

At first the family was worried and confused because why the fuck are they so aggressive towards each other?? Yeah the bats all stalked Danny, yeah the bats were almost about to destroy the Masters and Fentons but that's supposedly water under the bridge now. Danny said he wasn't mad at least, he just wanted to spend time with his brother again. SO WHY WE'RE THEY ALWAYS TRYING TO KILL EACH OTHER??

Dick was the first to see this happen. Dick was with the boys, Danny and him making stupid jokes, Damian groaning, and they'd laugh. Then he left to grab snacks. Only to run back when he heard something crash, in the 5 minutes he was gone, Danny was impaled with a sword, with multiple batarangs sticking out of him! One was even in his eye!! Damian wasn't looking any better, black eye, split lip, bloody nose, and beaten to hell while Danny held him by the throat dangling him above the ground. Dick screamed and went to pull the boys away from each other which Danny allowed easily. When he asked WHY?? the boys only shrugged. Then began to argue about who kept the sword. Danny says it was in him so he should keep it and Damian saying it's his sword. Dick looked at the both of them and sighed taking the weapons for himself much to the protest of the boys. Now he had a head ache and a long conversation to have later.

Bruce almost had a stroke when he was told about it. He nearly fainted when he did see it for himself. HIS BOYS FOUGHT LIKE THEY WERE GOING TO KILL EACH OTHER. So now they couldn't be left alone together someone always had to make sure they didn't kill each other during their visits. Which is fine the Master's Manor was much more suited for their fights anyways hell maybe they could have their mother come watch them fight. It's been a long time since Danny has seen their mother after all.

The reason: That's the only way they know how to act together. They trained together when they were small and it's still just habit. Plus now that Damian knows none of his weapons can really kill Danny he goes all out to stay sharp, to Danny this is just ghost bonding. Ghosts do love fighting after all. Maybe one day he'll actually go full strength on Damian just for fun, just to see how his weaker, still mostly mortal brother will react. After all none of the bats have ever fought him in his ghost form.

Damian and Danny being left alone for 5 minutes:

[mrsparrasblog]

POLY 141 reaction to when they are the biological father

poly 141 with pregnant reader if they are not the Dad

Price: He never thought he would be the dad. The doctors told him many years ago that he would never be able to have kids, so when you got pregnant, he was there for you but knew he would never be the biological father, and he was okay with it. When the baby was born and was hairy as a bear and had a dot on his nose just like John, he didn't believe it. He didn't want to raise his hopes. "It is Soap's, definitely." After a week, the paternity test came back, stating he is the father. John couldn't stop crying; he was the biological dad despite all the odds. He was the happiest man on earth.

Kyle: He held your hand while you gave birth, so concentrated on you that he didn't even look at the boy when he came out. When the nurse placed his boy on your chest with the remark "prettiest baby they have ever seen," he looked at the boy who looked like an exact copy of him, with beautiful amber eyes, his skin color, and already forming a charming smirk. It was over. "Just a pretty boy like his dad." The baby turned out to be like Kyle, and you were so proud of him. Gaz was such a wonderful father, treating every one of your kids, whether it's Simons, Johnnys, or Johns, as his own.

Soap: He knew it from the beginning. MacTavish genes are so strong, so he was always sure he was the dad. To cut him some slack, you and he had the most biological children together, three copies of Johnny, who made you rethink all of your life choices. It was a bad birth since the baby weighed already 10 pounds, a typical MacTavish baby. He started to cry when he saw the striking blue eyes. "You did such a good job, Bonnie, gave me a perfect bairn," he kissed you and the baby all over, apologizing to you about the birth, and overall became the perfect dad. And all the kids loved him, whether biological or not, so bad that you had four boys with mohawks all the time.

Ghost: He was more afraid to be the father than anything else. "What if I turn out just like my dad?" He didn't. He was one of the best dads you could ever imagine. When he looked the first time at the girl, he was 100% sure it was his. Blonde hair, pale skin, and already way too big, it was a Riley. He always held the baby on his bare chest, a thing he learned in all the books he read. Skin-to-skin is so important. He became the international best girl dad. This bulky man wore her pink backpack, made tea parties with your daughter, and overall was smitten. He loved all your children equally, but still, his little girl was his world.

Author's Note: All of them treat the children equally, whether they're biological or not, but it's still somehow something so deep for them when they see their mini-mes. You, on the other hand, are pissed how none of the children turn out to look like you despite being in labor for hours. "Not fair." "No more sex." "Go away, Johnny, with your fertile genes." "Mhm, Kyle and John can stay."

[tojisun]

“ghost,” price’s voice rumbles in his ear, the faint static almost breaking through his focus. there’s a familiar cadence in his captain’s voice, one that drags against simon’s body in miasmic waves—it is, after all, nothing short of a warning. still, none of it matters, and simon continues to march on.

“the mission–”

“stopped being my priority,” simon replies, cutting him off.

there was nothing but a crackle. a quiet whirring. then, “you know this is not what they would want.”

he grunts. “good thing they’re not here then.”

simon slinks into the shadows, ducking underneath the balcony, his eyes frantic as he scans the parameters. it’s safe. quiet. too quiet, in fact.

“location?”

“south of the chapel,” gaz replies with no hesitation. simon hums to himself—price must’ve shifted his directives too, then.

“roger.”

he moves, his boots crunching against the gravel and filling up the dead passage way with just enough noise. there’s still a whole lot of suspicious inactivity, one that makes the hairs on the back of his neck rise up, but he doesn’t get to dwell on the thought anymore. not when a loud bang rips through the silence.

his breath stutters, mind racing—that sound came from the shed.

his legs tense, muscles rippling.

“shots fired!” he reports before he leaps, devouring the vast space between himself and the sounds of scuffling. prayers form on the tip of his tongue, racing down his throat like scalding water.

he’s not even a religious man, but dear gods–

simon passes around the chapel, eyes cataloguing the lit rooms inside what he was told to be a desolate building, before tearing through the wooded shed. he knows he should’ve searched the area for any threat, should’ve probably waited for backup, but simon’s been running on overdrive, his emotions piling. spilling.

he tears the door open, guns poised for easy aim. only–

simon’s body buckles, throat constricting with the words he wishes he can say. but there is nothing else to be said. nothing but thank you’s.

because there, standing in the middle of the chaos, bloody and wounded and banged up to hell, is you. you weren’t even taken for that long but look how much they did to you. they hurt you.

your feet are soaked with blood, your boots and socks having been stripped off of you as though a part of their attempts at making you incapable of leaving. your face is swollen. marked up. cuts trace from the angle of your jaw to the side of your temple, leaving blood to trickle down to your neck, staining your tee. the gash doesn’t look deep, but maybe that’s all the blood covering the actual extents.

simon forces himself to breathe. to stay still.

(everyone has their own triggers, that’s what they were first told when laswell brought you to them.

“remember theirs and be careful,” she said before a pleased smile tugged at her lips. “mommy’s bringing home a new littermate. aren’t you all glad?”

the meeting ended there, just as johnny opened his mouth to complain. price passed around your file and simon memorized every line that night—your tell, your preferred gun, your morning beat.

somehow, he thinks that maybe that night was when his devotion to you started.)

simon watches—he’s always been watching you since the day that you arrived—as you compose yourself. the m9 is still gripped so tightly in your trembling fist, the metal quietly creaking at the pressure. it fills up the space in tandem with your ragged breaths, and he knows you’re still there, trapped in the depths of your mind.

alone. angry. scared.

“status?” price asks.

simon licks his lips. “unstable.”

he hears the faint crackle of johnny cursing from the other end of the line, and simon gets him. he really does. but he thinks they also just don’t understand.

you’re here. alone. alive.

your spiral is just proof of that. proof that even in your loneliness, amidst the pain, you clawed your way to survival.

simon hopes you two were back home—the barracks have been home for years now—so he can reward you. sweetly. fully. you deserve all that and more. deserve to be devoted on. to be adored. to be revered.

you were always beautiful, of course, but there is something sacred in seeing you like this: bloodied, angered, victorious.

he prays that your wounds will turn to scars, if only to give him a map of where to press his kisses from now on.

“ghost?” you finally mutter, and it tears simon from his thoughts. your voice is a weak rasp, like you’ve been parched for eons, and despite that, it spills the tension from simon’s body, his muscles loosening up at finally seeing you return to the topside.

he wants to say your name. he wants to sound it out—aren’t names made to be chanted like prayers, anyway?—but he reels himself in and mutters your callsign instead. the name tumbles from his mouth with the desperation and the worry smothered under the guise of grace.

your lips twitch up in an attempt at a smile. they don’t really get to make it much because of the gash running down the corner of your mouth. still, it makes simon stumble over his feet until he is rushing past corpses and sliding into your space.

“can i–”

he doesn’t even get to finish asking before you’re falling into his arms, tucking in your bruised face carefully on the crook of his neck. he takes your bulk in his embrace, folding you to himself, before he rests his chin on the top of your head.

you fist at his vest, your other hand still tight on the m9, and simon can’t really blame you. even he still feels exposed to any danger from in and out of this shed even when you’ve taken out all of the enemies. so he holds you close and holds you tight, knowing every second is sacred.

he breathes you in, taking in the scent of the leather, gun powder, and iron. it all feels familiar to him; it all smells like you.

simon nuzzles the smooth part of his mask over your temple. then, “let’s go home?”

you shift until you’re peering up at him, and simon takes this as the chance to catalogue the extent of your wounds. his lips purse at finally seeing the gash; you would probably need stitches.

“okay,” you finally reply. your eyes wrinkle as you attempt to smile. “thanks for comin’ back f’r me.”

“always,” simon murmurs, feeling choked up as his exhaustion finally catches up on him. “y’know that, right?”

you hum, nodding, and that was that.

[crashandlivewrites]

Hear the Dogs Howling

Dedicated to the lovely @soapsgf for allowing me to ramble and bounce ideas off as I wrote this, along with being so sweet and helping me grow my confidence. This is for you.

Pairing: Dom!Ghost x fem!switch!reader x switch!Soap

Summary: Soap doesn't know how to stay quiet during sex. Tonight is no different. When you finally knock on his door to get him to tone it down, you walk in on a scene you weren't entirely expecting to see.

CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, MMF threesome, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving vaginal; m receiving anal), anal sex (m receiving), mild dubcon as Soap is initially choking on cock but he's into it, minor pet play (Soap is referred to as pup)

Read on Ao3

Soap was a noisy neighbour. There was no other way to put it. You’d been rooming next to him for a good while now ever since you were placed on the task force, and he always found a way to disturb your peace. Whether it was the sound of his music, or telly being up too loud, or his booming laughter as he chatted on the phone, or his or his partner’s noises of pleasure as he fucked them into the squeaky bed the base provided. 

Sure, you might have been jealous, picturing him above you, behind you, beneath you instead of them. Yes, you may have also touched yourself listening to his moans, wishing he was making those sounds for you, but you thought better of actually doing something about it. Pushed those feelings deep, deep down. Ruining the team dynamic, especially when you were the newest member put you more at risk than the others of transfer, or worse, discharge.

Shaking your head, you broke out of your chain of thoughts, biting your lip as you tried to focus on the report before you. Price wanted it by tomorrow. Demanded it by tomorrow. Cursing, you rested your forehead on your palms, trying to keep yourself awake as the half-empty cup of coffee remained stagnant next to you. Two pages left. That’s all you had to get through. 

And then you heard it. A muffled moan from next door. Fucking Soap and his inability to keep it in his pants for more than a few days. 

Clenching your teeth, you snapped your head over your shoulder, glaring at the wall as if you could curse him into silence. But, knowing Soap, this was only the beginning. The man knew how to fuck, and had the stamina to keep on going, meaning if you didn’t put a pin in this now, you were going to be listening to the sounds of your teammate fucking for the next few hours. 

Sitting in your chair, you debated for a few minutes, wondering if it really was something you wanted to walk in on, or interrupt at the very least. Tapping your foot and the pen in your hand in a steady rhythm, you tried to focus on the report before you, but after another five minutes of staring into empty space and the sounds from next door filling your head, you caved. Pushing the chair back, you marched over to your adjoining wall, banging on it harshly. 

“Keep it down, Soap! I have shit to do for Price.” 

You thought that would be the end of it. But it wasn’t. As though he was intentionally trying to spite you, the noises got progressively louder, more frequent. You’d slammed on the wall more times than you’d care to admit before you finally snapped. 

Slamming your door open, you march over to Soap’s room and bang your fist against his. But instead of it being solid, the door gave way, swinging open to reveal a scene you’d never thought you’d walk in on. Instead of Soap being on top of a pretty girl, he was on his knees, stark naked with his lips stretched wide around a thick cock that was being shoved down his throat. And not just any cock. Ghost’s cock. Your mouth sagged open slightly as your eyes flicked over the pair of them, taking in Soap’s bare form and comparing it to Ghost’s fully clothed one. 

Making a small noise of protest, Soap shuffled his weight on his knees and went to pull back, but Ghost was quicker, gloved hand reaching down to grip Soap’s mohawk firmly, keeping him pressed into his crotch.

“Ah! Did I say you could move, pup?” Ghost’s voice was stern and deep, stirring something deep inside you. In reply, Soap whined, blinking up at the larger man. It was only then that you noticed tears streaming down his face. Your breath hitched as you finally turned your gaze towards Ghost who was staring directly at you. 

His dark eyes were sharp and calculated, locking you in place as you stood stock still in the doorway. It was like your shoes were rooted to the spot and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the erotic scene even if you tried. 

“You just gonna stand there and gape at the slut?” Ghost cocked his head to the side, his eyes squinting in amusement. “Or are you gonna make yourself useful, Sergeant?”

The resolve in you crumbled. If Ghost and Soap could fuck with seemingly little consequence, surely you were fine to join as well. Feeling the heat bubble inside you, and your heart thump in your chest, you knew there was only one correct answer moving forward.

Swallowing thickly, you shut the door behind you. 

Despite the balaclava covering his face, you could see the interest spark in Ghost’s eyes at your actions. His eyes crinkled as he looked down at Soap, who whined pitifully, drool leaking out the sides of his mouth as he held position. 

“Seems like you’ve got another playmate, pup.” Ghost rumbled, carding his fingers through Soap’s hair gently as you walked forward, steps muffled by your socks on the wood floor. “You gonna put on a show for our guest?” 

Soap moaned, wet lashes fluttering as glanced between you and Ghost before beginning to bob his head in a slow rhythm along Ghost’s cock. The masked man let out a sharp hiss, fingers gripping Soap’s hair roughly as he grunted in pleasure. You stood there, less than a metre away from the pair, watching, feeling the heat of arousal spread through your body, accumulating between your thighs. Your mind raced, wondering how exactly you were going to fit into this scenario, but that question was answered when Soap reached a hand up towards you, stretching out his fingers. 

You kneel down next to him, lacing your fingers through his as his mouth continues to work. Soap’s own cock was rock hard, twitching slightly between his parted legs as the tip drooled pre-cum, pooling on the floor beneath him. He squeezes your hand in thanks and moans prettily, glancing towards you through the corners of his eyes and you grin, leaning in to purr into his ear. 

“You’re doing such a good job, pup. Putting on such a good show for me, aren’t you?” Despite the Ghost bullying his heavy cock down Soap’s throat, he whined at your words, opening his mouth even wider to accomodate the thickness. You cooed at him encouragingly, your other hand tracing circles on his back as Ghost groaned. 

Thrusting his hips forwards, he bumped his dick into the back of Soap’s throat causing him to gag. You could see the bulge of his cock every time he bucked his hips forwards, yet Soap swallowed eagerly, one hand laced in yours and the other resting on his thigh, twitching with every bounce of his cock. 

It was now your turn to stare up at Ghost from your position on the floor and you almost wished you hadn’t. He was a sight. Large and imposing as he stood over the pair of you, eyes darkened with lust as he stared. Your mouth went dry as his mere gaze sent another rush of desire through you, shivers running up your spine as you squeezed your legs together, trying to stave off the lust. He reaches a gloved hand down to cup your cheek, then your neck, tipping your chin up to hold your attention. 

“Can I touch him?” You breathed, voice barely audible over the excited yet muffled noises Soap was making at your words. 

“Good pups don’t touch themselves.” Ghost answered, brow raising. “He can cum from just sucking me. Sure you don’t wanna see that?” 

You had to admit, watching Soap cum without any direct stimulation would be enticing, but you couldn’t wait. You needed to touch him. After months of hearing him fuck, and presumably be fucked, you were finally getting to live out your deepest desire. You shake your head, keeping your eyes fixed on Ghost.

“Not right now. Wanna stroke his cock and watch him lose his mind as he gets you off.” Ghost simply cocked his head to the side before turning his attention back to Soap, but it was Soap who reacted viscerally. His hips stuttered; cock bobbed between his legs as he began to tremble. You felt a sly grin flash over your face. 

“Look at you… so excited to be touched? Is that it?” Releasing his hand, you move your own to stroke his thigh, running your hand along the inside, feeling his muscles twitch beneath his skin. “Such a good pup, aren’t you.” He nodded as best he could with a cock down his throat. 

Reaching down between his legs, you swipe a finger through the small pool of pre-cum on the floor and move to circle the head of his cock with your fingertip. He whined, hips canting forward to seek more stimulation, which you granted. Wrapping your hand around his cock, you began to stroke him with a light grip, in time with the bobbing of his head. Soap shivered, his eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of your hand touch, and he built up a steady rhythm, causing your hand to move quicker. He moaned, eagerly swallowing down Ghost’s dick to the base, causing him to hiss, gloved fingers tugging at Soap’s mohawk. 

“Good fucking pup. Look at you. Swallowing me so well. Makin’ a fuckin’ mess as you do.” Ghost’s dark eyes flicked over to you, before reaching over and cupping your cheek. Breath hitching, you raised your head up to look as him as your hand continued to work over Soap’s slick cock. 

“You’re bein’ such a good girl too. Takin’ care of my pup. Makin’ sure he doesn’t get too antsy. Can be a right pain in my ass sometimes.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as you ducked your head, glancing away from him and back to Soap who was pumping his hips forward, desperate for the pace to increase. His eyes flick to yours pleadingly and his hips moved, brows pinched together as he made a muffled noise of impatience. 

“Stop touching him.” Ghost growled his command as he yanked Soap’s head back as you pulled your hand back quickly. Letting out a multitude of protests, Soap’s brows furrowed as he glared up at Ghost. 

“The fuck did ah dae?” His tone was petulant, accent thick as he coughed, heaving air into his lungs. 

“Bein’ fuckin’ impatient, pup.” Ghost leaned down, leering at Soap who squirmed under the stern gaze. “We have someone nice enough to come in and touch that needy cock of yours, and you’re actin’ like a brat. Rein it in, or I’m gonna fuck your face like a slag I’m payin’ and leave you hard and leaking.” 

Soap kept his head low, but you could see the pout evident on his face. His eyes remained cast down as he nodded in response to Ghost’s words before reaching back up to fill his mouth. A strong hand pressed to his shoulder, stopping him going any further. 

“Open your mouth and use it for fuckin’ words like your s’posed to.” Soap glowered, huffing before he turned his head towards you. 

“Sorry fer bein’ impatient. Ye can touch me how ye want.” You smiled at him for a moment, before Ghost’s fingers tapped on your cheek, turning your attention to him. 

“Keep him in line, or after I’m through with him, I’ll show you how to properly keep a pup in line.” His soft, yet deep voice sent shivers down your spine, and you felt wetness pool in your panties, sticking to you.

“Yes sir.” Ghost let out a barely audible breath at your submission as his thumb stroked along your cheek bone. 

“Keep that up and maybe I’ll fuck you too sweet thing.” Your mouth parted as your head tilted back, angling slightly as Ghost stooped lower, as though he was about to kiss you through the mask before he pulled back. Wrapping a hand around the base of his thick cock, he fed it into Soap’s open and willing mouth, cupping the back of his head before thrusting deep. Soap gagged at the sudden intrusion but kept the dick deep in his throat as he swallowed around it. 

Spitting on your hand, you wrapped it back around Soap’s cock, mixing between long, languid strokes down his full length and quick, sharp ones over his dripping head. Soap trembled at the changes, body shaking slightly as he remained still for you. Cooing into his ear, the pace of your hand increased slightly. 

“Look at you, pup. Sitting so pretty for me now, aren’t you. Bet you look real sweet when you cum too.” Soap moaned out an affirmative, one of his hands cupping the back of Ghost’s muscled thigh as his other reached for your leg, resting high up near the apex of your thighs, but refusing to lift any higher until he was told so. You grinned at his good behaviour. 

“Yeah? You wanna cum for me? Wanna be a good boy and spill all over my hand?” Soap moaned again, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he continued to suck off his teammate, messy and sloppy as drool dripped down his chin. 

“Oh, fuck yeah, love. Make him moan like that again.” Ghost grunted; eyes closed as he continued to shallowly thrust. Not wanting to displease either man, you tightened your grip and swept your thumb along the ridges of Soap’s cock head, teasing his frenulum as you went. Letting out a keening sound, Soap’s dick twitched in your grip as his hips bucked into your hand, the grip on your thigh tightening.

“You’re so close, aren’t you?” Leaning forward, you whispered into Soap’s ear, before mouthing kisses down the line of his neck to his back as your other hand cupped his ass. “Come on, pup. Do it. Do it for me.” 

The cock in his throat meant the moan came out garbled, but his hips jerked forward erratically as he reached his climax. With every heavy twitch of his cock in your hand, a thick pulse of cum shot out, adding to the mess already on the floor. 

“Fuckin’ hell pup.” Ghost growled, both hands now gripping at Soap’s hair as the pace of his hips picked up, shallowly thrusting into Soap’s mouth as he moaned, eyes still rolling from his climax as Ghost used his teeth to take his right glove off before pulling out and stroking his cock roughly, releasing his load over Soap’s face, grunting as his whole body shivered, breath coming out in short pants. 

Once he’d finished, Ghost tucked his cock back into his pants, before pulling the chair up from Soap’s desk and sitting down. Unsure of what to do next, you glanced over at him, brows furrowed slightly as you waited for direction. Noticing, Ghost cocked his head to the side, before his eyes squinted appraisingly. 

“Soap could learn a thing or two from you, love. So well behaved, you are.” You went to face him, but he held up a hand, stopping you from moving any further. “The pup’s quite messy there. Why don’t you give him a hand cleaning all that up?” 

Eyes widening, to glanced over to Soap, who was dragging a finger through the mess of cum on his face and holding it out to you. 

“C’mon, bonnie thing. Show how good ye can be fer him. Fer us.” Soap’s eyes darkened as he stared at you expectantly and suddenly, you realised precisely how fucked you were. 

Your eyes followed his hand as he held it out towards you, Ghost’s cum dripping down his finger enticingly. Without further thought, you leaned forward on your knees, lips closing around the outstretched digit. Soap’s eyes widened slightly as he glanced over at Ghost, his mouth dropping open slightly as you licked and sucked his finger clean of cum. Pulling back, you swiped your thumb over his cheekbone, and then, keeping your eyes fixed to Soap’s, you sucked your own thumb clean as well. 

“Fucking Christ, hen.” His tone was breathy, his hands reaching out to push you down onto your ass on the cold floor. Your hands flew out behind you to break your fall as he nudged his way between your legs, pressing into your space with an intense need. “S’fuckin bonnie fer me. Been listening to me fer months, haven’t ye?” He whispered into your ear as his hands groped greedily at your body. 

“Gonna make ye feel s’good, I promise.” You were barely able to process his words as he tugged at your shirt, shucking it up and tugging your bra down to expose your breasts so he could latch onto one with his teeth, moaning as he did so. Letting out a sharp gasp of pain, you smacked his shoulder, eyes staring down at him accusingly. Soap released your breast and pouted. 

“Ye’ve got such bonnie tits, hen. Couldnae help maself.” His mouth spread wide in a toothy grin as he reached out to cup the breast he bit, squeezing it apologetically as his eyes traced over the marks his teeth left. “Wanted ye fer months. Thought ye wouldnae have me.” 

“I wanted you.” You breathed; eyes wide with surprise at his confession. “Always did. Thought it ruin things. Thought that it wouldn’t be professional.” Even in your ears, the words were a weak excuse. Soap’s grin spread even wider. 

“Touch yerself at the sound of me, aye?” His hands roamed your body, roughly groping at every piece of bare skin he could access. He lowered his mouth to your tits once more, sucking the nipple tenderly this time, tongue laving over the swell of your breast as he moaned. “Was extra loud fer ye too. Hopin’ ye’d break that door down sooner. Didnae take ye as the patient type.” 

“Shut up.” You hissed, arching your back as his hand reached for your other nipple, tweaking it between his fingers. Lifting a hand up, you carded it through his hair, tugging at the strands lightly, his mouth still firmly attached to your breast, sucking dark, claiming marks into your skin. 

“Tug it harder, love.” Came a rumbling voice from behind you. Breath hitching in surprise, you glanced up, remembering Ghost was still in the room watching the two of you intently. One hand sat at the seat of his pants, rubbing softly and you couldn’t help but moan at the sight. Blinking once more, you turned your attention back to Soap and, heeding Ghost’s instructions, tugged at the mohawk a little firmer. Soap let out a soft sigh, his eyes fluttering slightly, but it wasn’t enough to break his attack your chest. 

Closing your hand over his hair tighter, you pulled roughly, harder than you’d meant to, but you were rewarded with a strangled moan as you wrenched Soap back from your chest. His eyes were glassy as his hips canted forwards. Ghost mumbled his praise at the action, and you felt a stir in your chest. 

“That’s nae fair, bonnie.” Soap growled. “Ye’ve had ye fun teasin’ me.” His brows furrowed as he pulled back, making you lose your grip on his hair. Moving quickly, he pinned your wrists above your head with one hand as the other reached for the buttons of your pants. 

“Gonna show ye what I dae tae wee sluts who play dirty.” His eyes were wild as bore down on you, nose brushing against yours. You could feel the heat of his breath fanning across your cheeks. “Gonna tease ye till yer gaggin fer ma cock.”

Before he could make another move though, a sharp whistle sounded, and you both snapped your heads up in Ghost’s direction. He was lounging back on the chair, head tilted and resting on one first as the other cupped his bulge. His eyes narrowed towards Soap. 

“Thought I trained you better than that, pup. Manners.” The tone was stern, unwavering and was met with a soft whine from Soap. “Take her pants off and finger her pussy. If you make her come, you’ll get a reward.”

As though the instructions sparked something in Soap, his rough hands turned soft as he began to caress your body, slowly sliding up your sides to remove your shirt and bra properly. He cooed; eyes soft as they roamed appreciatively over your body. He dragged his hands down your torso, trailing down to the waistband of your pants. His breath was coming out in heaving pants as his fingers made quick work of the buttons, pulling both your pants and underwear down in one go. 

“Steamin’ Jesus hen.” Soap groaned, throwing the clothes to the side so he could return his hands to your body, sliding over your ass and up your legs before spreading them apart, eyes focused on your soaked cunt. The heat and desire in his eyes alone made your cunt pulse. “Jus’ wanna sink ma teeth into ye.” 

“Play nice, pup. Don’t wanna break your chew toy too early.” Ghost muses from his spot. Your eyes meet his and suddenly, you realise just how exposed you were. Soap may have also been naked, but the way Ghost’s eyes were roaming over your bare body and grinding against his palm made your face heat. 

“Cannae help maself, Lt.” Soap leaned down, mouth trailing kisses along your thigh, working his way down towards the apex of them. His teeth dragged over the sensitive skin, leaving red marks, but not hard enough to break skin. You felt your body jerk as his warmth breath fanned over your leaking cunt and you whine pitifully. 

“Please… Soap. Need it. Need you.” Your hands pushed through his hair, gripping tightly as you tried to angle his face towards your wetness. Groaning at your impatience, he lowered his mouth, flat tongue dragging a line from your hole to clit. Letting out a shuddering gasp, you arched your back, fingers tugging at his mohawk to hold him close. But that didn’t last long. 

The chair creaked as Ghost pushed himself up, boots heavy as he marched over and wrenched Soap’s head up unkindly, causing him to cry out. “I said, finger her pussy, not eat it, impatient slag.” He spat in Soap’s ear, voice low and harsh. You whined at the loss, bucking your hips up to chase his mouth, but Ghost’s hand pushed you back down. “Look at you both. Such greedy fucking whores. You take what I tell you to.” 

Your brows pinched as you stared up at Ghost. 

“Please Ghost… please I need it. Need his mouth on me.” Reaching out, you clasped your hand over one of his thick forearms, squeezing as your eyes pleaded up to him. Ghost sighs, bringing one hand up to sweep the hair from your face as he leans in to whisper into your ear, other hand still firmly gripping Soap’s hair, causing him to huff petulantly as he was dragged away. 

“The pup’s gotta learn to listen, love. I’m not punishing you, yet anyway. If you’re good, and you cum on Johnny’s fingers, he can eat you out. Got it?” He leaned back slightly, eyes soft as he waited expectantly for your reply. Nodding in response, you went to look down at Soap again, but Ghost’s rough hand in your hair stopped you. “No. Words, love. If I ask you a question, you answer it with words.” 

“Yes, I got it.” You breathed; eyes glassy as you stared up at him. “I’ve got it sir. I’m sorry.” Ghost let out a gentle sigh, hand releasing your hair as he stroked your chin tenderly.

“There’s a good girl f’me.” His gaze then hardens as he turns to face Soap. “Remember the rules, pup. You listen to me. Now finger her wet cunt until she cums or you won’t be getting your dick wet.” Soap’s nose crinkled slightly; brows furrowed as he stared at Ghost. 

“That’s nae fair, Lt. The lass was leakin’. Pure gaggin’ fer it.” His hands run gentle lines on your inner thighs as he spoke, and you felt the anticipation rising. 

“Then make sure to use those fingers to make it good for her and she’ll get it. You always yabber on about how good you are at pleasing pussy. Show me, then.” Ghost cocks his head expectantly and you felt like nothing but a toy for Soap to play with in that instant, and boy if that didn’t send a fresh wave of arousal down your spine. 

“I’m better with ma mouth than ma fingers.” He sulked, pouting up at his superior. 

“Then you’d better learn quick, Johnny.” Despite the mask, you could hear the grin, see his eyes crinkling as he waved his hand towards your cunt. “Go on, pup. She got you off with her hand. Return the favour.” 

Mumbling incoherently, Soap trailed his fingers towards your wet cunt, eyes flicking up to meet yours and smirking slightly. Dragging the tips of his fingers through, he gathered your wetness and began to circle your clit slowly. Shuffling forward slightly, he leaned over you before hesitating and turning back to Ghost.

“Can ah suck her tits?” His question was measured, as if he hated asking permission, but thought better of it. Ghost chuckled behind the mask. 

“Good pup for askin’. Does she want you to suck her tits?” Soap snapped his head down to you, eyes wide as pleading. Grinning, you nodded encouragingly. 

“Please, Soap.” Grabbing at your breasts, you shoved them together enticingly, causing Soap to moan and lean forward, burying his face between them, tongue dragging over the warm flesh before his mouth closes over one nipple, sucking intently as his fingers flick over your clit. 

Moaning softly, you spread your legs wider, encouraging him to keep going. And he did. His fingers were on the rough side as he continued to roam, trying to find what you liked. Reaching down, you moved his hand slightly, positioning it exactly how you liked it, and he took it on board, working his fingers in this new spot as his teeth closed over your nipple, making you cry out. 

“Pathetic. Needing to be shown where she likes it pup. Can’t find it on ya own?” Ghost rumbled, shaking his head as he continued to brush a hand through your hair tenderly. “Look at her cunt, weeping and clenching round nothing. Come on, pup. You’re not even trying to make her cum.” 

Soap whined at the words and, desperate to prove himself, his fingers moved to circle your hole before pushing two in. You hissed slightly at the sudden stretch of his thick fingers but moaned as his thumb continued to flick over your clit and clenched down on his fingers. 

“Curl them upwards.” Ghost whispered, his other hand trailing down to where Soap’s was between your legs. You twitched as you felt the rough material of his gloves against your sensitive pussy. “Get that spot right in here.” You couldn’t stop the loud moan that broke through your lips as Soap followed the instructions, hand reaching down to grip at his wrist as your hips ground against his fingers, building up a steady rhythm. 

Grinning darkly against your chest, Soap continued to suck at your breasts, squeezing and nipping at the sensitive skin as your pussy squeezed around him, slick dripping down onto the hard floor beneath you. 

“That’s it, bonnie. Fuck yerself on ma fingers. Can feel ye clenchin’. Dinnae ye wanna cum fer me? Ye can dae it.” He rambled; voice muffled against your chest as he quickened his pace at your clenching. 

“Don’t speed up.” Ghost admonished him, smacking his hand down where Soap’s was inside you, causing you to jolt. “If she likes it, keep steady. She’ll let you know if she wants the pace changed.” You moaned in response to Ghost’s words, one hand clutching at Soap’s wrist, the other reaching for Ghost to squeeze him in thanks. 

“Just like that, Johnny. Keep it like that!” Panting, you continued to grind down on his fingers. He pulled off your tits, leaning down to spit on your clit before bringing his other hand over to rub over it like you showed him before. Gasping, you squeezed around his fingers tighter, feeling your impending climax build. His hungry eyes bored into yours, his face twisting into a leering sneer. 

“Feels good aye? Gonna cum, bonnie? Make a mess all over ma fingers?” Unable to form a coherent sentence, you whined, hand squeezing his wrist to hold him inside you, pleading silently for him not to pull out. “Nae goin’ anywhere. Stayin’ right here til ye cum.” 

Your eyes rolled as you moaned, head falling back, only for a rough hand to grasp your hair and pull you back up. 

“You keep lookin’ at him, love and you don’t look away. Show him how fucked out you look when you cum.” Ghost’s words were harsh as he positioned himself behind you but sent a sharp bolt of heat through you and Soap moaned as he felt your cunt clench and pulse. “Yeah, that’s it, love. Be a good girl now. Show him how good he’s makin’ you feel.” 

“So fu- ah! So fucking good, sir.” You blinked up at Ghost, whose eyes were wide and feral. Adjusting you slightly, he pressed his hips into your back, and you felt his stiff erection pressing against your shoulder. 

“Feel what you’re doin’ to me? Feel how hard you’ve made me? Been such a good girl yeah? Lookin’ so fuckin’ pretty with your fucked out face when you ain’t even had a cock in you yet.” Panting at Ghost’s harsh words, you glanced back down at Soap, eyes wide and desperate. 

“I’m gonna cum. Soap please! I can’t...” He shook his head, body trembling. 

“Give it tae me, hen. Please. Been such a good fuckin’ lass fer us. Show me how bonnie ye look when ye cum, aye?” Your brain was going into overdrive, stimulated by not only Soap fingers, but his and Ghost’s desperate words, the intensity of their eyes on you… you felt yourself crumbling, careening towards the edge as one more flick of Soap’s fingers sent you over. 

Jerking your hips, you cried out, body shaking as Ghost wrapped his arms around you, cooing in your ear and talking you through your orgasm, but you couldn’t make sense of the words. Soap’s fingers softly worked you through your release, slowly pumping in and out of you until he felt your body sag. Withdrawing his digits, he held them out to Ghost, a sly grin on his face. 

“Wanna taste, Lt?” Looking up lazily at the two of them, you noted Ghost’s narrowed eyes. But they weren’t focused on Soap due to his coy request, but rather his glistening fingers soaked with your climax. Pulling the balaclava up to expose his mouth, Ghost leaned forward, sucking Soap’s thick fingers into his mouth, moaning at your taste. Whining softly at the erotic sight, you reached back behind you, trying to wrap your hand around his clothed cock, but his gloved hand stopped you. 

“Not right now, love. Need to see Johnny fuck you.” He whispered, squeezing your wrist tenderly before lifting himself up a little straighter. “C’mon pup. I can see you leaking from here.” 

“Och, I thought I was eatin’ her out next!” He grumbled, body already halfway shifted to put his head between your legs. 

“Plans changed. You can eat your cum out of her. Need to see her crying on a cock, now.” His voice was urgent, as he pressed his palm into his aching erection. “Don’t keep me waiting.” 

At the warning, Soap scrambled back up your body, lowering his head to capture your lips in a kiss for the first time. His tongue pressed into your mouth, sweeping over yours as he shuffled his legs up until you felt the heat of his hard dick against your sensitive pussy. Everything about him was demanding and insistent, impatient as one hand clawed at your breast. The other was wrapped around his cock, sliding it up and down the length of your wet slit, catching your clit with his head and causing you to jerk. Breaking away from the kiss, you surged up, eyes transfixed on the glistening head of his cock, covered in your slick. 

Grinning savagely, he pressed inside, both hands gripping at your hips as he let out a throaty groan as your own breath stuttered, reaching out to grasp at his arm for stability.

“Steamin’ hell she’s tight, Lt. Like she’s nae been fucked in a wee bit.” His nails dug into the skin of your waist, surely leaving marks that would remain for days after. Ghost grunted and you heard him unzipping his pants. Glancing over, you watched as he pulled out his heavy cock, thick and hard with his tip flushed and leaking. Tugging his glove off, he held out his hand to Soap, who spat on it without a second thought. Then, he held his hand out to you with an expectant look. Without hesitation, you spat in his palm as well and he moaned, closing his hand around his cock and pumping it steadily. 

Before you’d even gotten accustomed to his size, Soap began to thrust, hard and fast from the get-go. He buried his face into your neck, whining and rambling nonsense about how good it was, but most of it was incoherent, his accent thickening as he continued to erratically slam his hips into your cunt. You hissed, the pace bordering on being not pleasurable as he grasped your hips tighter. 

“Soap…” you whined, pressing against his shoulders, but the man was unmovable, lost in his own head. Your eyes flicked up desperately to Ghost, who huffed, shuffling down Soap’s body to place a resounding smack on his ass. Yelping, Soap sprung up, cock pulling out of you entirely as he spun around to glare reproachfully at Ghost. 

“That hurt, Simon.” He pouted, brows furrowed. Ghost snorted, clearly not feeling sorry. 

“You’re pathetic, pup. Losing your head the moment you get your dick in something warm, and you wonder why I don’t let you fuck me.” Soap ducked his head, face flushing as he let out a whine of protest. 

“Felt so good, Lt. Couldnae help maself. Her bonnie pussy was grippin’ me like a vice.” He glanced over at you, eyes apologetic, but with a spark of lust, as if he enjoyed Ghost telling him off. 

“Not just about you, pup. Do I need to show you how to fuck a pussy?” Soap shook his head indignantly, turning his back on Ghost to bring his attention towards you. Running his calloused hands down your legs, he wrapped them around his waist as the head of his cock caught against your wet hole. Moaning, he slides back inside with ease, hands reaching for your tits once more as he set a better pace, rolling his hips and catching your clit with his pubic hair every pass. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” He growled, mouth lowering to latch onto your nipples, tonguing over them as he continued his slow, grinding pace. “Such bonnie tits. Such a bonnie cunt too. Fuck lass, ye been holdin’ out on me. Could have fucked ye sooner if ye weren’t so stubborn.” 

Between Soap’s praise, his rocking hips, and the insistent press of his cock inside your cunt, you felt like you were melting into the floor below you. 

“Just like that, Soap. God, your cock feels so good in me.” Your hands dragged red lines down his back, causing his pace to stutter and pick up again. Moaning, you felt your second orgasm edging closer as he continued, bucking his hips up to grind against the spongy spot his fingers had fun into before. Ghost kneeled just off to the side, stroking his dick in time with Soap’s thrusts, grunting every time he swiped his thumb over the head. 

“That’s it, Johnny. Keep fucking her like that. Doing a good job for once, pup. Touch her clit like she showed ya too.” Soap’s face was flushed as he nodded along with Ghost’s words, reaching down between you. His hips stuttered as you clenched around him at the contact, moaning as his pace fumbled again, legs shaking as his thrusts sped up, breath coming out in short pants. You whined softly, feeling your orgasm fade with the change in pace. Scoffing, Ghost moved behind him, gripping Soap’s hips to halt him once more. 

“Losing your head again, pup?” He titters, shaking his head as he mouthed along Soap’s neck. “I’ll show you how to really fuck her, since you clearly can’t without blowing your load early.” 

Soap smacked one of the large hands off his hips, glaring over his shoulder. 

“Fuck off. I can fuck her just fine. You can wait ye fuckin’ turn, ye bastard.” 

Instead of being offended, Ghost chuckled darkly. 

“You’re losing her when it starts feelin’ too good for you. But don’t worry pup. I won’t be fucking her.” His arms reach down, tracing over Soap’s to place his hands on your hips as well, holding you steady. At the look in Ghost’s eye, you whimpered softly, cunt squeezing around Soap, causing him to twitch. “I’m going to fuck you into her. Still got that plug in ya, right slag?” 

Your eyes widened, realising what was about to happen. Soap was practically vibrating between your legs, breath stuttering as his eyes became unfocused. 

“Wouldnae be able to hold it if ye fucked me too.” His voice cracked as he stared over at Ghost.

“Too bad, pup. Already showed me you can’t fuck a pussy properly. Need me to show you how. You alright with that, sweetheart?” He glanced over Soap’s shoulder as his hands reached down to toy with the plug in Soap’s hole that you hadn’t noticed before. Your eyes were wide as you nodded fiercely before remembering Ghost’s earlier request. 

“Yes sir… want you to fuck him into me please.” With the mask still lifted up above his mouth, you could see his appreciative grin. 

“Good fucking girl. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you what you need.” He reaches his hand down to your mouth, holding out his fingers. “Get them wet f’me, yeah?” Nodding, you lean your head up, sucking his fingers into your mouth, letting saliva pool on your tongue before swiping between the thick digits, tasting the lingering muskiness of his cock on them. Ghost let out a deep rumbling sound in his throat as he began to shove his fingers deeper, pressing down into your throat, gagging you slightly. Cooing softly, Ghost stroked the pads of his fingers along your tongue. “That’s it, love. Just like that.” 

Between you both, Soap whined, tipping his head back to rest on Ghost’s shoulder.

“Please, Simon. Please.”

Withdrawing his fingers, Ghost pressed his thick digits into Soap, causing him to fall forward, hands either side of your head as his cock twitched inside you. Breathing softly, you watched his face crease, his brows pinching as his mouth hung open. 

“Fuck Si… right there!” He gasped, breath hitching as he rocks his hips back onto Ghost’s fingers, and forwards into your wet cunt. His hands clenched into fists as he opened his eyes to stare into yours before leaning down and sealing his lips over yours once more, hips beginning that same slow, filthy grind. Wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him close, you pressed your tongue into his mouth in a messy kiss, swirling it around his. 

Your head grew hazy as time passed and you felt your orgasm returning as Soap picked up the pace of his grinding, stimulating your clit as his hands tweaked at your nipples. 

“Fuckin’ hell. Still so fuckin’ wet from earlier, pup.” Ghost withdrew his fingers before pressing the blunt head of his cock, catching it against the rim of Soap’s hole, causing him to jerk, fingers digging into your hips. “That’s it, pup. Open up f’me. Let me in ya.” One of Ghost’s large hands wrapped around Soap’s neck, pulling him up and breaking your kiss with him. The other gripped Soap’s hip, pressing in slowly with a loud groan until his hips sat flush against Soap’s. Releasing his neck, Ghost placed his other hand on your hip, squeezing you softly. He set a slow, but harsh pace, hips smacking into Soap’s, causing his cock to punch deep into you as he did so. 

Letting out a choked gasp, Soap fell forward again, burying his face into your neck and peppering the sweaty skin with nipping kisses as his hips were pushed forwards into you. Rocking back against him, your hands clutched at his hair desperately, cupping the back of his head as your other hand reach out to Ghost’s thick forearm. Your head was spinning, a strangled noise leaving your mouth as Soap’s tongue dragged its way up your neck. 

“Tastes so good, hen. Feel so fuckin’ good too. Wanna feel ye cum ‘round me, please.” One hand tangled in your hair as the other reached down to your clit once more, sending shivers down your spine. 

Ghost continued his pace, the loud slapping of skin filling the room as his breathing grew heavier. Soap was also growing desperate, driving his hips forwards and backwards, stimulating himself over and over as his thumb continued to flick over your clit. 

“That’s it pup. Doin’ s’fuckin’ well.” Reaching down, Ghost added his own thumb to the mix, flicking over your clit to make sure Soap didn’t lose his rhythm, his eyes catching yours. “Fuckin’ hell look at you, love. So bloody pretty. Can barely look at me, can ya? Cock feels that good, yeah?” He chucked, whispering something inaudible into Soap’s ear as you arched your back, feeling that brink edge closer. 

“Ghost… Soap.” You weren’t sure which name to call as you felt your body twitch, pussy clenching around Soap’s cock as he continued to buck his hips into your wetness. You could feel yourself beginning to spiral, eyes locking onto Soap’s face as he panted heavily, a soft whine leaving his lips after every one of Ghost’s heavy thrusts. 

“Bonnie… tell me yer close… I’m so fuckin’ close. Need tae feel ye cum first. Please… fuck, oh fuck please. Need it real bad.” Soap practically whispers, one hand clutching at your breasts, your hips, your legs as his other still pressed between you both, covered by Ghost’s larger one. 

“Good fuckin’ pup, Johnny. Beggin’ for her to cum ‘n all.” Ghost’s voice was rougher, sweat beaded on his brow as he quickened his pace, fucking into Soap with angled thrusts that made him shiver and whine. “Come on love, you can do it. You can cum for him. Make the pup feel real good, yeah?” 

All you could do was nod and moan, fingers digging into weathered skin as your cunt began to pulse rhythmically. One final hard thrust from Ghost pushed Soap up deeper into you as their combined thumbs over your clit sent you hurtling off the edge. As your toes curled with the sensation, your back lifted off the hard floor, hands clutching at the two men desperately as your head spun. 

Soap followed soon behind, thrusting quick and sharp up into your clenching cunt before releasing inside, cock twitching and releasing his load deep inside you as he shook with pleasure. 

As he shivered through his orgasm, Soap leaned forward, collapsing on your chest as your arms wrapped instinctually around him, both panting in tandem. Not wanting to be left high and dry, Ghost pulled his hips back and set a merciless pace, pounding into Soap’s hole until he began stuttering. 

“So fuckin’ tight, pup. Both of you… so fuckin’ pretty. Good fucking sluts. So good f’me. Gonna fuck both of ya next time. Wanna see how good you sit for me, love.” He rambled, eyes half closed as his pace turned erratic until he slammed his hips forward with a low grunt, stomach clenching from the effort as he emptied his load deep into Soap. 

Moaning softly at the feeling, Soap stirred, looking over his shoulder accusingly. 

“Ye ken I hate shittin’ out cum, ye eejit.” He grumbled, nestling his face into your chest, his soft cock slipping out and resting wetly against your thigh. Grimacing slightly, you glanced up at Ghost, who had a dazed smile on his face. He looked at you, as though assessing the situation before he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“Get over it, Johnny. You beg me to cum in ya more often than not.” He shook his head before returning his attention to you, cupping your cheek softly. “Did so well for me, for us. You up for doing this again?” 

Without hesitation, you nodded, eyes wide and hopeful as Ghost grinned, pushing back from the bed and standing up. 

“I’ll get cloths from the bathroom. You take care of our girl, right Johnny?” Soap simply hummed, burying his face further between your tits as Ghost scowled, but smiled and walked away. 

“I’ll eat ye out in the mornin’ hen. Good wake-up call fer ye.” He rumbled against your chest.

Grinning to yourself, you threaded your hand through Soap’s hair, holding him close as you felt yourself settle, being lulled to sleep by the warm body that was sprawled on yours. Price’s reports could wait.

[veritasangel]

Entangled

Ft. simon x therapist!reader / ghoap x reader

sum: simon becomes dangerously attached to his therapist & soap helps him keep you close.

contains: anypov, unhealthy boundaries, manipulative ghoap, obsessive behaviour

wc: 1.9k

a/n: this was a random last minute thought and i just decided to write it so yeah

You've been Simon Riley's therapist for months. A man shrouded in darkness, his past being a labyrinth of pain and trauma that would have broken most people. You, however, were trained for this—prepared to navigate the intricacies of his mind. Though, you weren't prepared for how he would begin to infiltrate yours.

It started innocently enough. Simon, or Ghost—you weren't quite sure which side you knew—would linger a bit longer at the end of your sessions, his dark eyes searching yours as if trying to find something beyond appropriate concern.

His walls were high, but you could see the cracks forming. He'd mention tiny details, almost as if he wanted you to know him, to understand him beyond the professional façade.

"You're the only one who understands me," he would say, in a voice low and rumbling in a way that sent shivers down your spine. "You're too good for this job.".

At first, you dismissed it as progress. In therapy, trust was paramount, especially with someone like him. But then the compliments got personal.

"You look beautiful when you smile," he murmured one day, his gaze heavy with something you couldn't place.

It was a red flag, but you just ignored it. You had to be professional, after all. Though, it wasn't long before the boundaries began to blur. He'd ask questions about your life, your past, your thoughts. You tried to steer the conversation back to him, but it became increasingly hard, he was insistent.

Then, there was Soap—John MacTavish. He was different compared to Simon, open, more...human in a way. He'd pop in after sessions, light conversation, always keeping an eye on you. You thought at first it was just friendly discussion. Then you began to notice he would always manage to steer you into situations where you were alone with Simon, almost orchestrating your interactions.

One evening, after a very tough session with Simon, Soap invited you out for a drink. It seemed innocent enough—just a way to unwind—and since he wasn't your patient, you figured it would be alright. As the night wore on, though, you started to notice the way Soap's eyes flicked to the door every time someone came in, almost as if he was expecting someone.

Then, out of the blue, Simon appeared.

He slid into the booth beside you. His presence was overwhelming in the small space. Soap excused himself for a moment and you were alone with Simon inside this dimly lit bar. The atmosphere was charged. Air was heavy with unsaid tension.

Simon's eyes seemed to bore into yours as he slid into the booth, a suffocating presence. The closer he got, the greater the wave of heat that washed through you, yet it was not like any warmth that brings comfort. It was something else, something that made your heart race with anxiety and unease.

"Simon," you began, your voice just a shade unsteady, "I don't feel this is a good idea. We need to keep things professional between us."

But Simon didn't budge an inch, didn't even flinch. His gaze remained locked on yours—dark and inscrutable—the weight of his stare holding you in place. He leaned in just far enough that the warmth of his breath was felt against your skin.

"Why?" he asked, murmuring the word quietly. "We're only talking, aren't we?"

His voice was so calm, almost caressing, but with an undercurrent of tension that had you on edge. So very wrong, yet his very look, the way his presence seemed to envelop you, left no room for thinking straight.

You tried to pull away, slide out of the booth, but Simon's hand shot out, closing gently but firmly around your wrist. "Don't go," he sort of murmured, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles on your skin. "Just stay a little longer."

The pressure in his touch made you shiver; you were pinned by the intensity in his eyes. You knew you had to go, that staying would only blur the lines further, but something in his eyes, something raw and vulnerable, held you in place.

"I really should-" you began, standing up slightly, but Simon cut you off with his tightening grip, barely enough to keep you in place.

"Please," he whispered, his voice low and filled with some emotion you couldn't quite name. "You're the only one who understands. The only one who sees me for who I really am."

The vulnerability in the words, the near pleading in his voice, tugged at something deep within you. Against every alarm bell ringing in your head, you found your hesitation, your weakening resolve.

Then, as if on cue, Soap reappeared. His expression was casual, but his eyes were sharp as they caught the scene. He guided you back to the booth as he slid in beside you, effectively boxing you in between him and Simon. In any other case, his presence was supposed to be reassuring, but it felt like the walls closed in on you even more.

"You alright?" Soap asked, light, almost too casual. "Looked like you were about to leave."

You opened your mouth to reply, but Simon's grip on your wrist tightened again, not painfully, but enough to remind you that he was still there, still watching, still waiting.

"I'm fine," you managed to say, though your voice came out weaker than you intended. "I just—this isn't professional."

Soap locked gazes with Simon, something wordless passing between them that twisted your stomach. He leaned in, his elbows resting on the table, his eyes soft while looking at you.

His smile was surprisingly broad, but his eyes seemed sharp, cutting. "I understand where you're coming from," he said, his voice smooth, nearly soothing. "You've got your ethics, and I respect that. But sometimes, those rules can feel a bit… restrictive, don't you think?"

His words were so carefully chosen, designed to sound understanding, but there was something more, in a subtle manner, the pressure was there. The push to get you to question your own boundaries. His gaze never breaks; his eyes lock onto yours in a manner that is very hard to slip out of.

"You've done so much for Simon," Soap went on, his voice a degree softer now, as if he was sharing something deeply personal. "You've helped him in ways no one else could. We both know he's not an easy man to reach, but you did it. You got through to him."

Simon's grip on your wrist was unyielding, much like his presence— a subtle reminder of just how tangled in his life you were beginning to become. He said nothing at all, but the silence was loud enough, an unspoken agreement with everything Soap was saying, it felt almost rehearsed.

Soap leaned back a bit, just enough to give you room to feel like you weren't completely cornered but still close enough that it wasn't easy to slip away. "I've known him for years," he said, with a voice like brotherly affection that made it hard not to trust. "I've seen him at his worst, and believe me, you're the best thing that's happened to him in years.".

His words were honey: sweet, smooth. But there was a sharpness beneath, like an edge of metal that kept one on one's defence. "I get that you're trying to keep things professional," Soap continued, his tone almost regretful, as if apologising for what he was about to say. "But have you ever considered what pushing him away might do to him?

The implication set your heart sinking, the feeling of guilt already coiling around your chest like a tightening rope. Soap was making it sound as though stepping back, keeping that professional distance, would abandon Simon when he needed you most. It was an argument carefully crafted to strike at your empathy, your compassion—the very qualities which made you good at your job.

"You've already crossed lines to help him," Soap said, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret. "You've been nice to him, understanding. You've given him hope. And now he's holding onto that, to you. If you pull away now…" He trailed off, tilting his head, letting the silence fill in the gaps, letting you imagine the worst.

Simon's thumb brushed over your wrist, gentle, almost a comforting act, but all it did was remind you that he was there, still waiting for a decision. He'd said nothing, but the silence was loud.

Soap leaned in again, his voice barely above a whisper, but each word was crystal clear. "We're not asking for much," he said, almost pleadingly. "Just be there a little longer. Let him know you're not going anywhere. He needs that from you. He needs you."

The way Soap spoke, the way he phrased it, made it seem as though walking away would be cruel, heartless. As though you were the one with the power to either save or destroy Simon. The guilt gnawing at you, made it more and more difficult to think straight, to hold on to your own sense of what was right and wrong.

"And you're not alone in this," Soap added, his hand coming up to rest on your shoulder, the touch warm, grounding. "We're here for you too. Simon isn't the only one who values you, you know. We both do. We see how much you care, how much you're willing to do for others. That's admirable. But you don't have to do it all on your own."

His words started to envelop you like a warm blanket could, comforting yet smothering. He was turning your very empathy upon you, making it feel like the only compassionate choice remaining for you was to stay, to keep blurring those lines.

"Simon's not just a patient," Soap went on, his voice now low and full of quiet intensity. "He's a good man who has been through hell and back. You're the one bright spot in his life right now. Don't take it away from him. Don't be mean and hurt him." he pouts to emphasise his point.

Simon’s grasp on your wrist relaxed ever so slightly as he turned to meet your eyes with almost-pleading ones. "I need you," he finally murmured, his hoarseness from emotion practically bleeding through his voice. "Don't leave me."

His words hit you in the gut, square, the naked vulnerability within his voice leaving little room to decline. Between Soap's smooth persuasion and Simon's soft, ragged desperation, the walls felt like they were shrinking in on you, constricting the available space until it seemed there was no way to escape, to leave.

The professional bounds you had worked so hard to maintain were crumbling. As much as you knew you needed to stand firm, their words, their presence made it feel like you would abandon them if you did. Soap was right there to support whatever call you made, but his words had long since guided you to the one they both wanted—the one where you stayed.

"Please," Simon whispered again, his voice cracking a little. "I don't want to lose you."

It was a plea you couldn't ignore, one you couldn't deny. And as you sat there, pinned between the two of them with the weight of their expectations crushing down on you, you began to realise that to walk away wasn't only hard but damn near impossible.

Soap pipes up with a smile as he takes your docile silence for an answer, “Soo, another round?”

༄ pt.2 here

༄ m.list

© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴

[krossan]

A Brief AU Explanation

I noticed that there are a lot of new followers that do know Danny Phantom, and others that the know very little. I am also aware that I haven't fully explained - maybe NOT in too much detail - the "story" and plots of my AU. You only have the ideas that I've been telling of this story through illustrations.

This AU is all about reconnecting with one self, with Jazz and Dan as the main two of this particular game.

Jazz remains as the same character that is portrayed through the OG show. She has always been the psychology enthusiast of the group, the one that cares for others and help with whatever she can. For her, others come first. First being her family.

On the other hand, we have Dan, an alternate entity of Danny’s ghost half and Vlad’s. A new form of entity that lost his humanity. For him to show any form of emotion is null.

Jazz involvement in this has to do with her putting everyone else first and then herself, and being keen to the study of the human-psyche, and now ghost-psyche, she secretly partakes to the role of Dan’s therapist. This was kept in secret from the rest of her friends and Danny until she can gain more control over Dan.

This, of course, prove to be a VERY difficult task. With her having to hide her constant fears when facing that “particular someone”: he could go on a rampage, have uncontrollable outbursts, cause havoc, and that he could turn against her any day/time without any remorse. She knows this, but she also knows that deep down, her little brother is still there. She’s looking to rekindle that part of him again. Of course, never knowing at what extent this could go.

And this, apparently started to bear fruit, although at a slow pace. As Jazz stood closer and closer to him, she understood that he stayed alone his entire life, and after losing everyone he cared, his violent actions were his significance of showing the world "hurting". The hurt he have been caring so many years. Now he has that second chance. To “live” a new life and Jazz wants to help him out.

With this new information, each time Jazz got close to him, Dan, instead of seeing her as an obnoxious-human-parasite, he slowly starts bonding with her. His interest increasing each day he is with her and grows more comfortable being around her (something Dan originally despised).

***

Part of this AU, enrolls on a particular context that the ghost of a halfa is sentient. The original show as proven this*. When Danny’s ghost has been separated, his ghost has a mind of his own, but when staying together, human-ghost, the consciousness of the halfa acts as one. *Episodes in question: What You Want, Identity Crisis, The Ultimate Enemy

This part that the ghost plays on the known halfas is a mayor plot point from this AU. Let me explain my concept briefly:

This roll that the ghost is part of the halfa is the one that caries the power of the wielder (human). The human can transform into the ghost and vice versa. The ghost powers remain within the ghost half. The human half acts as a vessel/host to the ghost half.

All living things have the instinct of survival. And on this case, the ghosts would do ANYTHING to keep their host safe as they are the means of a linked connection human-ghost. Not unlike the rest of non-halfa- ghosts that their link/host relies on the Ghost Zone -since they no longer have a corporeal body, the vessel for their survival is ectoplasmic energy, the one that emanates from the GZ.

***

Since Dan is no longer connected to a human, he became a full-ghost. An entity that merged from two ghost halfas. He can sustain himself alone, but strangely enough, he building a bond with Jazz, it rekindled what Jazz intended, but in an unusual way. Jazz intention was to try and reconnect Dan with his long-lost humanity. Even if he didn’t have a human half, both his ghosts may have some little information stored deep within of what that used to feel like. And even though that started to give results, the ghost also retained that of his original purpose: Protect the host.

And as the bond Dan and Jazz grew more and more, unknown to them, it caused a physical manifestation: a white streak formed in Jazz’s hair. And even if this came up as a surprise to Jazz, she later discovered that this manifestation was much more than just physical.

Dan rekindled his humanity but he, unknowingly, intertwined Jasmine’s humanity to his. Her humanity is part of him. Jasmine’s emotions have an impact on him. Whatever she feels, he can sense it, let them be good or bad ones.

They both are this new form of halfa, both human and ghost are separate life forms, but from the ghost side -Dan’s perspective- Jazz is acting as his human half. His host. That’s is why his instincts respond to protect her at all costs.

No. This new form of a halfa representation doesn't mean Jazz has ghost powers. The one with that power is Dan. This bond is more of a psychic link.

 (i.e. In European folklore, you “could” say Dan is Jasmine’s "familiar", although Jazz is not considered to be a witch, but imagine the possibilities of this small plot causing people or ghosts to think Jazz is a witch… idk… random ideas)

This is why Dan is more sympathetic towards Jazz and why their bond is very important.

______________

It's worth pointing out that I don't have a specific name for this AU, like many people do when they create these stories. And NO. Please refrain from saying this is a romantic relationship. It is a sibling/platonic relationship.

[ferrstappen]

could you be more obvious? l MV1

a/n: thissss is based on a request I got and ofc I added the Verstappen twins <3 this is messy I’m sorry but I’m on a writing mood

summary: you show up pregnant for the first race of 2024, just six months after Max won his 3rd WDC.

Max being crowned world champion for the third time was something that made your skin buzz with excitement, a knot form in your throat seeing everything he’s achieved and the pride and satisfaction of knowing that every single person on the team had his back, was definitely one of the best sights.

But for Luca and Mila Verstappen, their papa being champion again time wasn’t exactly a big deal… they knew it was important because there were lots of fireworks and special tshirts, but they were born watching Max a champion, they only knew him as such.

what, like it’s a big deal?

They didn’t say it, but you knew that’s what was on their mind.

That was the reason why both Max and you decided to not bring the twins to Qatar, especially with the high temperatures and Luca’s history of getting sick during Grand Prix weekends, they were more than happy to stay with auntie Vic while you got ready to celebrate your husband.

And God, did you celebrate him.

Without the twins, the gin and tonics kept coming, the sloppy make out session on the VIP area of the club as if you were teenagers again, his front pressed against your back as he tried to impress you with his best moves, only to earn a couple of drunken giggles and peck on the lips.

Things were starting to quiet down, lots of people had already left to their hotel room, but you and Max were on a world of your own, with you sitting on top of him, but the moment you started feeling his lips ghosting against your neck, his hands moving from your waist to squeeze your hip.

and you knew it was time to go.

Bahrain, 2024

Max didn’t remember being so excited for race day. Yes, he was anxious for the new season, but the highlight of his day was seeing you getting ready, a loose blouse and white jeans accentuating the noticeable belly of six months of pregnancy, which was a complete surprise to everyone.

You entered the paddock through the main entrance, with photographers everywhere and Kym Ilman greeting your family, because the scene was worth more than a couple thousand likes on Instagram: you were holding Mila’s hand who in return was holding Luca’s, while Max walked with his arm protectively around your belly.

The twins weren’t exactly thrilled about the idea of having a baby brother or sister, a fact they made clear by asking every day if there was any chance to stop the baby from coming home eventually, telling you and Max that they were more than okay having the cats. Sadly, they were the only ones

“No! No! No! Is that why you went MIA on social media? Oh my God look at this bump! Congratulations you two,” Lily let go of Alex’s hand to give you a tight hug as Alex congratulated Max with a couple of pats on the back.

The scene repeated itself with most drivers on the grid, who didn’t ask how far along you were, but were able to deduce the situation. Until…

“How far along are you?” Charles asked you as he held Luca on his arms, letting him mess with his hair.

You blushed and Max’s chest puffed as if he has been waiting for the question. “I’m a couple of days away from the six months mark,”

Charles looked as if he was doing a very specific and difficult math problem as his girlfriend, Alexandra, stares at him with a faint blush on her cheeks, probably since she has always been more reserved around you because she was younger, but she was impatiently waiting for her boyfriend to catch on the situation.

“This is a 2023 season baby?” Charles asked.

“Looks like it,” Max answered with a smug smile on his face, but in reality it was an excited grin which reached his blue eyes.

“No…” Charles jaw dropped and had to put Luca on the floor.

“No what?” Max counter asked, even if he knew the answer. This time he started drawing mindless shapes on the clothes over your swollen stomach.

“Max… is this your championship child?” Charles whispered, shocked.

“What can I say? Winning on and off the track!”

And Charles almost passed out as both you and Max laughed, beaming while interlacing your fingers over your belly, knowing cameras wouldn’t catch you there.

user1: Max knocked y/n up the night of the third championship change my mind

user2: Max Verstappen pulled a k-mag and I respect that

user3: do we know the birthday of the verstappen twins? Asking for a friend

user4: y/n and max will have a full kindergarten if they have a kid every time he wins the championship💀

user5: are we really surprised after those videos leaked of max squeezing her ass while they were celebrating the 3rd wdc

user6: if the maths are mathing this baby will be born around the Monaco gp. GODS PLAN

[xdead-writers-societyx]

Jorrāelagon

Synopsis: Despite the love he holds for his mother your husband's love for you will always triumph. Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: General HoTD shenanigans such as sexual themes, incest, vulgar language, and the sort so please if any such things make you uncomfortable or if you're underage do not engage with this post or I will feed you to my dragon!

1,750 words

A/N: This is a little follow-up to Pazavorve so I would recommend reading that first and you can do that by clicking here.

Ever since your return back to Dragonstone your mind had been continuously haunted by the ghost of Aemond, you were especially plagued by the broken screams of your name as he helplessly watched you flee from Kings Landing, as he watched you flee from him.

Days had soon drifted into weeks and yet even as you remained motionless on the balcony of your chambers your heavy eyes searching the tumultuous ocean below, he invaded every aspect of your mind, so much so you began to materialise Vhagar’s large form in every dark cloud that passed in the night.

Shaking your head, you brushed away the tangled mess of hair that covered your face, scoffing at your foolishness you made to return to the comfort of your bed when you were halted in your tracks by the thunderous growl echoing throughout the darkness.

Mouth agape in disbelief you couldn’t help the chocked sob that left your open lips at the sight of Vhagar soaring in circles high above the castle with an emotionless Aemond seated impassively upon her back.

With little care for the fact that you were in nothing but your sleep shift or the fact that Aemond could be accompanied by his brother you bolted through your chamber doors yanking them so harshly open that your unsuspecting guards could do nothing to stop you as you brushed past them ignoring their calls for you to stop.

Your bare feet made little noise upon the cold stone of the castle floors as you weaved through the many twists and turns until you had reached the winding steps that led you down till you came crashing out onto the cold sandy beach below.

“Dōna Riña, stop!” Choosing to ignore the worried calls of your mother your footsteps quickened in pace until they were carrying you hurriedly across the damp sand to where Vhagar had now landed in the near distance. (Sweet Girl)

“Aemond!” Your voice carried over the crashing of the waves until it reached your husband who turned upon hearing the one voice he had been longing to hear calling his name since you left, leaving his dragon he instead focused on his sweet wife as a call of your own name left his mouth.

But no sooner could you take another step to reach him had the footsteps that had been chasing you through the night caught up and before you knew what was happening a pair of strong arms were being wrapped around your middle pulling you into the body of your mother’s husband.

“Stop fighting!” Daemon’s voice was firm as you continued to thrash against his unwavering hold on you, “Go and stay with your mother.” With a skilled ease he had manoeuvred you behind him only releasing his hold on you once assured that your worried mother had you held securely in her arms, turning back he managed to unsheathe Dark Sister just as Aemond arrived before the three of you.

“Please Daemon!” Your voice sounded so unlike your own as you screamed out, the sight of the tip of the great sword pointing threateningly at Aemond’s chest had a wave of tears fighting to fall from your eyes, “Please do not harm him!”

Daemon tossed the briefest of glances of his shoulder,“Be quiet,” His voice was full of authority as he spoke before focusing back upon his stoic nephew, “Nyra, take her back to her chambers where it is safe.”

“Come along Sweet One.” Despite your mother’s soft words her strong hold on you never once wavered as she stared warily to her younger brother across the beach while attempting to wrestle you back the way you had come.

His uncle’s words had been enough to knock Aemond from his stupor, “You think that I would harm her?” The question had Daemon’s brows furrowing as the younger Targaryen took a step forward not so much as wincing at the sharp sting of Dark Sister piercing into the flesh of his sternum, “She is the only thing in this damned existence that I give a shit about, she is my love and my soul. I would sooner you cut my beating heart from my chest than see her harmed. She is the reason I have come here tonight.”

Aemond’s words seem to have peaked your mother’s interest as her grip loosened till only a soft hold remained, “What is it you come here seeking brother?” She was cautious as she took a step closer to the two men ensuring that you were kept safely by her side, “For I shall not permit you to take my daughter back to that den of snakes.”

Aemond moved his one remaining eye from where it had been glaring upon his uncle to instead meet the familiar eyes of your mother which you had been fortunate enough to inherit, “And I would not request this of you sister.”

Having far less patience and care for Aemond than his wife Daemon scoffed pressing his sword more firmly against the young man’s chest refusing to be caught off guard in this situation, “Then what is it exactly that you ask of us then, boy?”

After sparing his uncle a scathing glance Aemond chose instead to focus on your mother as after all she is the one that held all the power, “What I wish sister, is to bend the knee to the rightful Queen of The Seven Kingdoms and pledge my loyalty to you.”

“Why?” Your voice was quieter than you had intended as you gazed upon your husband your eyes wide in shock at the words he had spoken, “Before I fled, I begged you to bend the knee and you refused. Why is it now that you have had a change of heart Aemond, what has changed?”

“Nothing has changed,” Despite the sureness in his voice you knew Aemond better than anyone else which is why you knew he was holding something back from you, “I should have listened to you from the very beginning, Ñuha Zaldrīzes. My brother is not fit to rule as King and I have come to see that for myself, I can only apologise that it has taken me this long.” (My Dragon)

Your brows pinched as you moved as far forward to him as your mother’s protective hold would allow, “I do not believe you.” Searching his blank face, only you could decipher the anguish and conflict happening deep within, “What is it that you are not telling me Valzȳrys?” (Husband)

“Speak the truth nephew.” Daemon’s voice was firm as he stared menacingly upon your husband, “Lest your body be sent back to your cunt brother in pieces.”

Dropping his head defeatedly as though regretful of what he was to say Aemond chose to focus upon the sand below, “My mother and Aegon have declared you a threat to the realm and wish to see you dead.” Rolling his shoulders his eye danced pointedly between on two elder Targaryen’s.

Sighing your mother began smoothing a hand over your hair more to comfort herself than you, “That is of no surprise to me brother, yet you hold no well wishes upon us so tell me, why have you come here.”

Reaching for your mothers unoccupied hand you squeezed it tightly as your teary eyes gazed up at that familiar violet you adored so much, “Please Aemond, just tell me Ñuha Jorrāelagon.” (My Love)

“They want you all dead, your brothers, Rhaenyra, Daemon and you Ñuha Zaldrīzes.” Aemonds voice held a sadness and regret you had not heard from him since the night that he had claimed Vhagar where he had called you and your brothers bastards in a fit of rage, “And no matter how much I love my mother, I will always love you more.” (My Dragon)

“Let him pass Daemon.” You stared up at your mother in shock at her order, smiling softly she held your damp cheeks in her warm hands, “Avy jorrāelan, Ñuha Dōna Riña. You and Aemond will be safe for as long as you both choose to stay here.” (I love you, My Sweet Girl)

Clinging to her wrists in a fashion similar to how you had held to her skirts as a child your forehead dropped to rest upon her own as you whispered, “Avy jorrāelan tolī muña. Thank you for everything.” (I love you too mother)

“Surely you cannot think this wise Rhaenyra.” Daemons voice was one of disbelief as he looked between the two Targaryen women he cared for so deeply while holding firmly in his reluctance to welcome his nephew into their home, “He cannot be trusted!”

“Enough Daemon!” Your mother silenced him with a harshness any of you rarely ever heard from her, “There has been enough conflict in our family I shan’t add to it here, now let him pass.”

Despite his protests Daemon dropped Dark Sister from where it had been pierced into the chest of your husband for the entirely on the conversation and no sooner had it been sheathed was Aemond lurching forward to pull you into his arms.

“I have missed you more than my heart could take Ñuha Jorrāelagon.” Your sobs were muffled by the leather of his tunic as you grasped to each other so tightly it verged on painful but neither of you nor Aemond cared for you were both too enraptured in each other so much so neither of you noticed your mother dragging a grumbling Daemon back to the castle to give the two of you some privacy. (My Love)

Pulling your face from the crook of his neck Aemond began scattering kisses upon every inch of your face before finally settling on your lips, humming happily into his mouth your arms wound around his neck pulling him impossibly closer till the two of you had no choice but to release each other lest you suffocate, “However much you have missed me I have missed you infinitely more Ñuha Zaldrīzes. I have not known a moment of peace since you left.” (My Dragon)

Climbing upon him as though he was a wild dragon in need of taming, he had no choice but to move his hands from your face to the back of your thighs to hold you to him, pressing a lingering kiss to his swollen lips your eyes flitted across his face taking in every scar and groove you had missed so dearly, “Then show me how much you have missed me.”

[pyreo]

handful more dunmeshi thoughts:

I like how their ability to cook is cumulative. they still have stock or leftovers from previous episodes making each meal more varied or better balanced, it honestly feels super enriching having solid evidence that their situation improves the more they experiment.

I like that the main party are immedaitely shown to be veterans of exploring this dungeon, and were fully expecting to comfortably handle the final boss. They're familiar with the layout and overall logic of the place, and how to co-exist as a diverse group.

I like that it's not horny. I mean yeah there's the dwarven upskirts but that just feels like realism. I know there's some kind of yuri bathroom thing but we've been told since episode one that is based on deep-seated emotions. what I mean is nobody is drawn sexily, nobody is getting gratuitous fanservice for no reason, nobody is lusting over other characters. there were even sirens and the opportunity was not taken to draw them like sexy temptresses. All things considered, they are in a work environment. I enjoy this, everybody has more important things to do.

It's based on dungeons and dragons/roguelikes/RPGs obviously, but in a loose method that doesn't get hung up on itself. Also the problems they solve are always realistic/a matter of pragmatism or efficiency rather than having to be more powerful than something else. solutions are based on critical thinking (good example - making a flail out of a vial of holy water because ghosts pass through the glass and get smacked by the water)

An extention of that, it's fun how much logistics and realism form the basis of their problems. Nothing is handwaved. The central dilemma is staying fed and that is a challenge. They can't cross a hall of water in a boat, because two of them wear heavy armour, and would sink. They do not even leave sightlines of each other without informing someone else where they're going, so the alarm will be raised if they don't come back. They're all capable in their own ways and this directly leads to solutions requiring group effort.

also look at these marcilles

[dilfsfordinner]

a/n- nanami has always been my favorite jjk man but BRO, he was something else in the new episode, they were definitely animating with one hand

warnings- doggy pos

—————————————————————————

“just.. just stay still,” nanami’s voice rasped against the shell of your ear, his muscly thighs slamming into the backs of your own, your spine pressed down into an impossible arch by his large hands, all tenderness flying out the window, a stark contrast to the usual sweet, love-making the two of you would have.

“why won’t you tell me what’s wro- mmhp!” your words were cut off by a particularly rough snap of his hips, his thick cock jamming against your cervix, releasing a barrel of electricity to shoot through your muscles. he was never usually like this, always making sure to treat you with the utmost respect and care, his actions and words tied by a boundary of love, never crossing into rough waters, said boundary apparently not strong enough to withstand an irritant, something causing his brain to turn muddled, his lack of speaking and animalistic thrusts just more proof along with the pure anger radiating off of him.

strong legs bracketed your lower half, his tall frame towering over you even while kneeling, his chest snug against your back as the top of your skull fit directly under the dip of his collarbones. nanami hadn’t really said anything since he’d gotten home, the only form of communication he deigned to use being grunts and huffs of pleasure.

you’d barely even had time to greet him when he’d opened the front door of your shared home, loud footsteps trudging toward you before grabbing you and throwing you over his shoulder, your worried questions doing nothing to quell his anger or silent treatment, his only apparent goal being to get you to the bedroom. and that’s how you found yourself being stripped bare and fucked in such a humiliating pose, his long fingers fisting the headboard, white knuckles so tight you swore you could hear the wood splintering.

you were like medicine to him, your doting personality so sweet whenever he needed someone to vent to. not only was your character comforting, but your body too, sex being another way for him to let out his anger which you knew and you let him, not stopping him from plowing your cunt raw, just to get whatever was eating at him out.

“i- just let me have you… please,” he practically begged in the crook of your neck, lips ghosting your flushed skin as he continued to push in and out of you, clearly not ready to talk about whatever had pissed him off. taking his request to heart, you nuzzled your ass back into his hips, your cunt squeezing him as if in answer to his plea, to use you however he wanted. nanami groaned at this, one hand coming down to hold your waist, pulling you back onto his cock languidly, the two of you lost in each other as you let your bodies do the talking.

he leaned down to leave kisses along the top of your spine and shoulders, your pants higher-pitched from the stretch and burn of his cock, that renowned gentle character returning even while he was fucking you like an animal, still concerned over your comfort no matter how troubled he was mentally. “you’re too good to me,” he murmured into your hair, hips lazily rolling against your ass, your bodies pressed so close you actually felt the way goosebumps riddled his skin, and how rapid his heartbeat was against your back.

yes, you loved when he didn’t hold back with you, when he was rough and manhandled you into whatever position he could think of, but there was something about his kind-hearted, gentle persona that could never be topped, even if getting bent in half did feel incredibly good.

—————————————————————————

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Zombie!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Zombie!Ghost, Reader

Summary: Being on the run from the undead doesn't leave much time for more intimate things, but once things start to settle a little an ache begins to form that you havent felt in a long time. What will you do when the only other person you are with is your former lover turned zombie.

Word Count: 4.8 k

Warnings:

Author's Note: here it is as requested. I hope I did it justice. Happy Halloween 🎃

You’d been on the run for months now, never stopping as hordes of the undead nipped away at any temporary calm would you seek to have. It wasn’t easy always having to look over your shoulder, wondering when you were going to get ambushed again or if you’d get overrun and you’d have to make your final stand in a blaze of glory. Something like that isn’t supposed to become normal, but after over a year of living in hell you kind of get used to it… Kind of.

That first month was the hardest since you had been completely on your own because in the chaos and confusion of that first wave as the everything fell apart, including the 141 you were stationed with, you’d gotten separated from everyone. Hiding in the sewers, scavenging for food like some kind of rat, it was torture. But then you came across someone you thought you’d never see again: Ghost.

He was holed up alone in an abandoned farmhouse back in the thick of the woods a town over from the base. What should have been a reunion with someone you knew was thrown off by the fact that he had in fact been turned into one of the undead. Out of everyone that you could have run into, why him? You two had history, the kind where intimate details were something that you shared, and now you were both thrust together once again only this time there were bigger things at stake other than if you’d get caught fooling around by the captain.

The strange thing was that even though Ghost had been fully transformed by the infection, it was not what you expected. You realized quickly that Ghost had kept most of his humanity, though the more finer details of his person were scrambled by the disease. Even though he could not speak anymore due to the fact that his jaw was broken, Ghost was still inside there. And the strangest part of it all was that he remembered you.

It wasn’t like anything you had seen from the horde of mindless undead and so instead of facing the unknown alone again, you decided to stick with him. For over a year you two stayed side by side and although you did not come across any others of the task force, it was enough to just have one another.

Honestly he wasn’t a terrible companion, though a bit of conversation would have been nice. Still, having him with you had its perks. Being one amongst the walking corpses had great benefits and Ghost used them to their full capability to keep you safe so that after a time, even though the world still sat in ruin, you two were not doing too bad. At least you were able to stay in place for more than a day now.

That’s where you found yourself, shacked up in a two story cottage you had found almost untouched and secluded in the middle of the woods. It was easy enough to make secure, as secure as you could having limited supplies, but apart from a few stray corpses stumbling by there wasn’t much action. That anxiety riddled tension that you had held in your chest for over a year began to ease and with that came old stirrings that you hadn’t felt since before the world collapsed.

An old familiar ache brought on by being near someone who you used to share such things with, the one that leaves you begging to be quenched, wormed its way back into your life and now that you had more time on your hands it was becoming a major problem.

You see, adrenalin has a funny way of fucking with your head: heightening your senses, making your pulse race, everything feels so much more intense. You were only human, one who still had needs which had not been met in so fucking long that you couldn’t even remember what it felt like to be touched by another and so having your blood always rushing and your skin tingling, how could you stop yourself from giving in to that most basic of temptations?

It was a shame that Ghost wasn’t an option now; you would liked to have him one more time as the world burned, but there was no way no… right?

So, instead, one evening after the perimeter had been secured and the doors re-bolted, the windows rechecked and the traps restrung, that ache reached its peak and you had to do something before it got in the way of staying safe. Sneaking off to the bedroom you had claimed for yourself upstairs, you allowed that overwhelming need to finally overtake you.

Leaving the door slightly ajar so that you could still be alert to any stray sounds, you laid down on the cushioned surface of the mattress, your pulse racing rapidly in your chest at the prospect of doing this. You made quick work of your jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling down the zipper only enough so that you could access that throbbing between your thighs. Clamping your mouth shut in an effort to keep quiet you slid your hand down the front of your pants, down all the way until you reached your sex. 

A whimper filled your mouth that you choked back down; the last thing you needed was to alert a horde with your desperate cries as you worked yourself. It may have been a while, but you knew exactly what to do and extending your middle finger you split yourself open to find your clit, another whimper rising in your throat as you made the connection and began to draw tight circles around the bundle of nerves.

It was hard not to get worked up so fast as that remembered pleasure filled your mind and snaked its way through your limbs to make your body vibrate and as you stroked that pulsing bean you were brought back to those times when you and Ghost used to get lost in that ecstasy together. You couldn’t be blamed for where your mind wandered, not when you had to be near the one person who knew how to draw your pleasure from you, even if he couldn’t do it anymore.   

Before you knew it, you had flipped yourself onto your stomach and then onto knees to ride your fingers, hips grinding away as you imagined him underneath you. Fuck, the way he used to look staring back up at you with those hungry copper eyes, hands greedily clinging around the meat of your hips as he shoved you down harder onto his cock before he would inevitably flip you onto your back to pound into you; it was enough to make you salivate with need, but still you tried to keep quiet.

You thought yourself sneaky, keeping things to a minimum as you desperately drew out your release, but Ghost was not the same man he was when he was alive. His senses were different now, enhanced like a wild animal’s by the infection that took his life and made him into something entirely new. As he stood in the living room, staring blankly out the window to watch for any signs of undead, something caught his attention.

The scent of pheromones were on the air, enticing him forward to the upstairs. He followed it all the way to the back bedroom, your room. Slowly, silently, creeping towards the door, Ghost peered unblinking through the slit to watch you up on your knees on top of your bed, your pants hanging slack around your hips while your ass point upward towards the door. That motion, he knew it; that back and forth sway of your hips over top of your bed. 

There was another fragrance on the air now, something more familiar. Taking a deep breath, his heightened sense of smell caught the scent of your natural lubrication currently soaking your fingers and it awoke something deep within him like a fire in chest akin to what an animal feels when it goes into heat. His slack mouth began to unconsciously salivate as ingrained memories surfaced, flashes of remembered sensations from times when he too enjoyed such pleasures. Inherent, primal, a reaction as innate as breathing.  

It was then that he became acutely aware of a tightness growing down below and instinctually he cupped his hand around it, rubbing the growing bulge against his chilly palm. Was he actually getting hard? That was surprising as anyone would have expected that to not happen anymore; he had retained much of his humanity, but he had not had the time until now to explore all the facets of what that entailed.

The more he rubbed the more it grew until the front of his pants tented out near the zipper, straining so hard against the fabric that he had to wonder if he could pop the closure without even trying. God, it felt…amazing.

“Fuck, Simon,” he caught the whispered hiss through the silence as you pressed your body down harder onto the bed, onto your fingers, and it sent a shiver up his spine. The way you said that name he hadn’t heard in so long, in that desperate way almost as a plea to your lust to fulfill its unspoken promise and wash that euphoric feeling over you, caused memories to violently resurface. He had heard that before in just that exact way- from you.

Scattered and disjointed memories of you beneath him burst into his minds eye, brought back to life by the sound of your voice: you writhing with eyes closed, your skin glistening with perspiration in the pale light of a dimly lit room, bare breasts bouncing up and down with each of his strong thrusts, crying his name into the silence as you came.

If breathing was something he was still required to do those lungs would be heaving by now to bring in enough air as he was so worked up that he would surely be panting. His hand gripped tighter now around the head of his cock, stroking with more purpose now as his dilated pupils followed the curve of your back all the down to your ass to watch it bob up and down.

The pace of his hand quickened to match your rocking as if fucking you by proxy, stroking through his clothes while transfixed on you. Goddamn he wished he could remember the way you felt wrapped around him, but that sensation had been lost when he succumbed to the disease. All he could do was watch and enjoy the way your body looked while your movements became more sloppy as the warmth gathered in the pit of your stomach, that delicious heat that you had not felt in so long.

“Yes, yes,” you mewled under your breath while your thighs clenched around your hand as you were so close. You brought in another finger to join the first one and with both you slipped them inside your entrance; it was nothing like the way Ghost could fill you out, but it would have to do.

Bearing down hard while you kept the pace steady, your breathing more erratic, you finally reached the peak and spilled violently over the edge, tumbling down as your body writhed and jerked through the overwhelming intensity of that first orgasm. You stifled your cries as much as you could inside your mouth, but they still reached an unknown listener who nearly came himself if he had not had to move quick before being spotted.

…and that left him very frustrated…   

You fell onto the mattress, removing your fingers from your pussy as you breathed out a sigh of contented relief. It hadn’t been clear just how much you needed that until you came and fuck did you feel on cloud nine now. As you rolled over onto your stomach to stare up at the ceiling while you rode out the wave of your euphoric high, you swore you heard a series of strange movement just outside your door; a soft few taps that sounded like they were getting farther away which would have been out of place, but the house you were currently boarded up in was old and so you convinced yourself it was nothing.

Besides, if anything was truly wrong, Ghost would have already alerted you by now. 

It was several minutes you just laid there in the silence before you took one last deep breath to calm yourself as you got up to straighten your clothing and re-buttoned your pants, hoping that your self-pleasuring session had gone completely unnoticed to your companion as you headed back down stairs to double check that everything was still secure.

In his usual spot you found him standing, always watching with that unblinking gaze, but as you stepped into the living room his sight was immediately drawn to you. “Hey,” you greeted him, “everything still okay out there?”

The usual grunted reply was returned and you stepped over to where he stood, just to take a look for yourself. It didn’t hurt to have another set of eyes to catch things and you felt more comfortable checking for yourself anyway. Scanning the area outside you saw nothing out of place, but as you pulled back from the window you were met with those cold eyes directly staring at you.

Silently Ghost’s large hand came up to touch your cheek, rubbing his thumb across a certain flush pooling there that drew his curiosity and he grunted with a nod of his head at it. You diverted your gaze, suddenly self-conscious about how warm they were still, like a fucking beacon calling attention to what it was you were doing upstairs; not that you cared, but shit you didn’t need your business plastered all over your face like that.

“It’s nothing,” you reassured him with a chuckle. “Just got a bit warm I guess. I promise I’m not infected or anything like that.”

Fully expecting him to take you at your word you went to move over to the sofa, but his hand clung to the side of your face to keep you in your place. You tilted your head as he shook his own side to side slowly. 

“What? Don’t believe me?” you picked, slightly concerned about this strange development; he had not acted in such a way before and you did not know if it was a part of the infection or not. 

Again he shook his head before his eyeline lowered down your body until his sight stopped at the crotch of your pants. Shit, had he heard you? Could he smell the trace amounts cum still clinging to your cunt? There was no real way to tell, but the way his eyeline kept drifting down before meeting your own again was enough to indicate that he was aware of what you had just done. 

You cleared your throat. “You know what I was doing, don’t you?” you asked and was met with another nod, this time to the affirmative.

Well, nothing to do about it now; what was the point of denying it? “Look, I just… needed something to take the edge off okay?” you spurted out. “I mean fuck, I still have needs, even if they had to be put on the back burner for a bit while we tried not to get overrun. You of all people should know how I get sometimes. At least I was quiet enough not to cause problems for us.”

Ghost looked back at you with those milky white eyes, but there was something behind them, something that you recognized, something… yearning. Suddenly you were aware that his other hand was on your hip now, tracing sloppy circles around the soft warm skin just under the hem of your shirt. 

Goddamn the familiarity of his fingers lingering over old paths they used to take in times almost forgotten; if you closed your eyes, it was like you were right there back with him. Your chest was tight with the increased thumping of your heartbeat in your throat, the air not filling up your lungs as well now as he pulled you in a little closer to him until your bodies were against one another. 

That was when you felt something against your thigh.

“Can you…?” you risked asking the question. No, there was no way that he could still get hard, right? Right? 

A large, cold hand wrapped around your wrist and brought it down to his crotch where he rested your palm against it and to your surprise the bulge in his pants responded to your touch. Your eyes shot back up to his as your breathing hitched. 

“Fuck,” you murmured and was promptly met with a grunt from him followed by a deep chuckle. 

Perhaps it was the history, the knowledge of what his body used to give you; perhaps it was the need that you had not truly quenched fully yet; perhaps it was your memories that you’d used as you touched yourself; or maybe it was as simple as you still wanted him; whatever the reason it didn’t matter. All you knew was that you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting more of what you started upstairs.  

Hesitantly your fingers grasped at his shirt, slowly tugging at the seam as if to silently ask to be allowed to remove it. Never letting his gaze waiver, Ghost raised his arms and allowed you to pull it up and off over his head. His body was just as you remembered, though quite a bit more pale and the flesh discolored in places, but all the lines and bumps, scars and imperfections were the same and as you ran those delicate fingertips over his skin it all came flooding back.

This is crazy, you told yourself. But it was the end of the world after all, why not go out with a bang?

“It’s been a while,” you said, gaze taking him all in. “God, you always did make my heart race just taking off your shirt, ya know.”

“Uhh,” he grunted in agreement. 

The contrast in body temperature between you both was stark and he enjoyed the warm, tingling feeling your finger left behind wherever they went. He had not felt such a phenomenon in so long that it was like lightening striking inside his mind as nerve endings reignited. It went the same with his pants as you undid them to let them hang loosely around his hips.

Following your lead, he helped you out of your shirt as well so that you stood bare chests facing one another. Your nipples were already hardening as they hit the cool air and he ran a fingertip over the tiny rosebuds to feel them. You were perfection, a sight of decadent flesh that fueled that hungry need he had to abruptly cut off before and the more he stared the more it grew.

The couch sat just behind you and taking your hand in his he moved the few steps over it to take a seat. Grabbing onto your hips and turning you around, he pulled you down onto his lap to sit on top of him. That throbbing bulge barely covered by the pants slipping off him was straining even harder now and you had to open your legs so that it could comfortably stand at attention in between them.

Situated on him you leaned your warm, bare back against his chest, those muscles that you knew by touch alone were now clammy, yet still familiarly fit against you just as they always had. Ghost took those stiff, cold fingers and ran them slowly down the line of your neck to your chest, around the tissue of your breast and down still to the curve of your hip. 

Being touched that way by another, by him, after so fucking long made your skin tingle and you leaned your head back against his shoulder to close your eyes and simply enjoyed the icy prickles his fingers created. He brought those fingers back up all the winding way to your throat and then back down again, except he did not stop at your hip this time. 

Lower he walked those decaying digits into your lap, then inside the waistband of your jeans, and then all the way down until he was inside your panties. You didn’t try to stop him, instead letting your knees fall open to give him more access. The further he went the more he could feel just how warm you were, the damp heat radiating off your cunt and into his pulse-less palm as he cupped his hand around your sex.

“Christ,” you exclaimed in shock as your body jolted against him, your pussy still a good bit sensitive from before. 

“Uhhh,” he groaned in response, intrigued by how much he enjoyed causing such a visceral reaction and wanting to replicate it. 

Again your scent filled his nostrils, those delicious pheromones that he had caught a whiff of earlier, and it began to awaken something primal within him. Taking his fingers, he drug them heavily over the slit of your cunt until they slipped between your petals and into that still dripping core. Again your body jolted into him as those thick fingers rubbed the length until he found what he had unconsciously been searching for: a small bundle towards the top. 

“Ugh,” that deep groan was more breathless this time, as if he were enjoying the feeling of your juices coating his fingers.  

Cool fingers began stroking against your clit with a rhythm that was ingrained in him from past experience and it was like falling right back into old habits. Your hips started to roll over his hand as they were want to do in response to his movements so that it was like a dance of give and take and he had to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you from slipping, but it was worth it to feel the way your body moved.

Like an animal a strange compulsion awakened inside, enhanced by the disease coursing through his veins, and the untamed part of his new nature was flooded with the need to rut into you. The more music you made, the more it filled his chest until the sensation became too much to quell. 

With a growl he moved you both to the floor in a rush, ripping your jeans off of you in one strong tug before pushing you forward and pulling your hips up so that you had to get on your knees. He too knelt behind you as he shoved the fabric of his clothing down enough to release his engorged cock and taking both of your hips into his preternatural grasp, so firm that his fingertips made the muscle sting, he aligned the head with your slit. 

This was crazy, highly dangerous, and slightly insane, but you couldn’t stop, not with how your body felt being pleasured for the first time in well over a year by someone who knew it. Whatever the consequences you’d deal with them later, right now you just needed to be filled to the brim with everything he had. 

Instinct knew what to do and slipping through your petals a few times, he rested the head against your opening and with a strong thrust shoved himself inside as far as he could go. Goddamn you had forgotten the actual feeling of how big he was, but there must be something in being undead that made him even more engorged because his girth almost more than the walls of your pussy could handle. Fuck, you were so full of him that when he finally pulled out of you it would feel so goddamn empty it would physically hurt.

You were aware that his cool palm was on your back now, running up the length of your spine to just between your shoulders where Ghost stopped to shove your top half down further into the ground so that your ass would rise more and without more of pause he began to thrust in and out of you furiously. Each stroke stretched you out more until the sting subsided and that was left was the satisfying euphoria that comes with being filled so full.

“Simon,” you moaned out his name and a dormant part of his brain lit up. Hearing it for the first time upstairs was nice, but being inside of you as you breathed life into that moniker was the highest level of ecstasy he had experienced yet.

And he need more. “UH,” he growled with force as he slammed into you from behind to make your ass bounce off of his hips. 

You braced your hands under your head to steady yourself, but it did little; the man inside of you was gone and all you could do was hang on. Still, even with his roughness, the way his cock still reached those desperate nerve endings inside of you made the arch of your back even more pronounced. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” you choked out the exclamation as your voice vibrated from the impacts. 

Harder and faster Ghost pounded your pussy from behind, throwing caution to the wind as he grunted and groaned like a beast on the hunt about to capture a fresh kill. You were so fucking warm, so gorgeously wet, that even his dead skin felt reanimated so that each brush of your body against him had him reeling in pleasure. 

This was the closest he would get to feeling like a living thing again.

Stopping suddenly he ripped his cock out of you amidst your begging protests to flip you onto your back, brutishly pulling your ass onto his knees. Your thighs rested high around his torso, squeezing against him as he immediately thrust back into that warm, wet hole and expeditiously returned to that overwhelming rhythm. 

The room was filled with the wet, sticky music of your bodies slapping against each other as Ghost worked your hole for all it was worth with a reckless abandon that you had not seen in him before. This wasn’t love, not something tender, but only pure animalistic lust and the more he stroked in and out of you the more he needed.

And then he felt it; a warmth in his stomach like he had swallowed coals. It started faint, almost indistinguishable until it had nearly filled him full the more he kept going. 

He couldn’t stop, he couldn’t back down, he was so close he could taste it. You weren’t far off either, nearly at the peak of your second orgasm the harder his cock stroked in and out of you, stimulating your clit along with it just from the pressure of his thrusts. 

“Shit, don’t stop,” you pleaded pathetically to him, your toes curling into the air as you focused on your breathing. Right there, it was right there; all he had to do was keep going.   

A few more pumps of him deep in your core and that was it, like a hot flash of white light you cried out in shaky whimpers as your orgasm tore through with such force you shot up as your back arched and your hips bucked harshly into him. “Goddammit Simon, fuck.”

He wasn’t far behind as the warmth that had been building finally shot through his body, coursing like a burning river of fire through his veins as he ripped his cock out of you and through your thighs to cover your stomach in his milky white semen. The roar he released while he drained his cock dry over top of you rang out through the house like a wild animal’s cry until he hung limply over top of you, completely spent.

Everything lay still once again as you caught your breath, allowing your ecstasy to run its course before you even tried to move out from against him. As you came to sit up, once again you were met with his eyes watching you closely. It felt like he was admiring his handiwork: the flush in your cheeks, the sweat speckling your torso, the exhaustion in your limbs. 

He had done that…and he liked it.

You flashed him a genuine smile. “Well, that was something wasn’t it?” you laughed and he chuckled deadoan along with you. 

Maybe the end of the world didn’t have to be so bad after all. At least, now you both knew that there were ways to have a little fun… and oh fuck, were you going to keep having little bits of fun.