#the riley fic tag

[aceghosts]

WIP Wednesday

Hey Everybody, I know it's been a while, but I feel like I have something to share! I was tagged by @direwombat, @clicheantagonist, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @captastra, and so many others. Thank you so much for tagging me; It is always a joy to read what you are working on! 💙

I'll throw a few tags to @sstewyhosseini, @marivenah, @hoesephseed, @confidentandgood, @thomrainer, @derelictheretic, @detectivelokis, @strangefable, and anyone else who has anything to share!

So, I don't have anything Far Cry 5 related to share. I'm hoping to work on the final edits for Chapter 6 of the Five Years Later AU this weekend. I would love to have it out by the end of January, but I'm not sure that I will.

I do have something Resident Evil related. Here is a small snippet from Chapter 1 of Hunter's long fic (TW for Death and Anxiety):

“You’re wrong.” A foreboding feeling falls over Hunter, and they swallow, slightly swaying. What Dr. Griffin was saying wasn’t true. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, it couldn’t be fucking true. “I’m not-I’m fucking not…” They can’t get the rest of the words out.

 “You’re infected, Captain Delaney. I’m sure you are competent enough to understand what that means.”

The world falls out from Hunter as they grip the terminal tightly, trying not to fall to the ground. He’s wrong; They’re not infected. “You’re lying, You’re a fucking liar,” They plead, inhaling panicked breaths. Yet, Hunter knows that is not the truth. They’re infected, and there is only one cure for infection. A bullet, preferably in the head.

“I am not lying, Captain Delaney. You know this,” His tone is harsh, as if he doesn’t have time to deal with a dying person’s hysterics, “Although, you should have mutated by now. None of the subjects lasted this long.” He tilts his head, his gray eyes pensive. “I wonder if there is something special about you, Captain Delaney. To last this long means the virus has found something in you, unique to the other subjects.”

I also have something P*kem*on related. (What can I say? I'm having a lot of fun writing for these two nerds.) Here is a small snippet from a 5+1 style fic:

Riley shakes their head, purposefully ignoring Ingo’s reservations. “Trust me, Ingo. This train is making it to its destination no matter what! Even If I have to swim through the ocean or fight a thousand Wingulls!” The Wingulls would surely lose, no match for Riley’s overwhelming tenacity. Yet, Ingo still feels a sense of anxiety about Riley leaving. They sigh, reaching up to touch his arm. “You know I’m coming back, right? It’s only going to be a year.”

“A year is a long time,” He counters, “It’s possible that you may find something to keep you in Hoenn, something that you feel you are missing in Unova.”

They shake their head, amusement bright in their eyes. “Yeah right,” Riley snorts, “Hoenn is just another place to see; another place to battle trainers. I promise I’m coming back.” Riley’s grin morphs into something truly mischievous. “And when I come back, the first thing I’m doing is kicking your ass in a battle.”

That one is a little rough since it's still in the first draft stages, but I'm having a lot of fun writing it.

[moldycigarette]

this x simon “ghost” riley

cw!: praise, size kink, creampie, breeding kink, bulge, simon’s a nasty dog (and i tried to warn ya)

—————

simon never fails to remind you how much bigger he is than you.

you’re short? no problem, all those missing inches go to simon. oh wait you’re tall? whatever, he still towers over you.

are you chubby by society’s standards? just means there’s more for him to love. skinny? that’s okay too, he’s always down to eat whatever you can’t finish.

no matter what size or shape you are, it’s a guarantee that simon is still bigger than you. and he always manages to remind you of that in the bedroom.

his large hands around your waist, pounding into you with his thick cock. he obsesses over the bulge in your cute tummy from his size, practically drooling over the fact that he can’t even fit inside you’re pretty pussy all the way.

whether he’s fucking you doggy style or in a mating press, he will always tower over you. he makes sure you’re cum is on his fingers and his tongue alone before he shoves his meaty dick inside you; this man has the libido and stamina of a god.

“g’nna fuck this p’ssy so good, love. fill ya’ up to the brim,” he moans, his thrusts growing more erratic as he feels that familiar heat in his stomach.

you’re coming right along with him, seeing stars while he peppers kisses in your neck. “such a good girl f’r me, g’nna make the best mama.”

—————

um sorry didn’t mean to let out my inner whore

[rejectedbytheempty]

actually, ykw? imagine if simon had a civilian s/o and bc he’s constantly away and the partner is there most of the time anyways, he lets them decorate the place.

they make it so cozy with a million lamps with stained glass lampshades and tapestries on the walls and an unexpected number of stuffed animals on the bed.

one time, simon invites tf 141 to his flat and their jaws dropped, bc ofc simon didn’t warn them about the absolute pinterest board that his place was.

in fact, he hadn’t mentioned a partner at all, or to you that his team would be coming over so you’re still in one of simon’s raggedy old t-shirts with a handful of dry cereal halfway to your mouth.

it’s generally a shock for both parties, simon excluded, who seems to settle himself right in, kissing the top of your head, eyes crinkling slightly as he grins, looking rather like a cat showing off the bird he dragged in.

you had some choice words for him later, but for now, you brushed the crumbs off your face and wiped your hands off on your shirt before sticking your hand out to the team to introduce yourself.

surprisingly, it goes rather well. all things considered. the team is charmed by you and your ability to make ghost blush and smile endlessly. and you’re absolutely enamored with the fact that they keep complimenting your decor.

[pippynsworld]

It was a long day...

[idyllcy]

class cancelled. see you online - professor!simon riley x professor!reader

In the early years when he first started, Simon didn't cancel class. It was kind of well known at that point. He'd rather spend the class chattering about his wife than cancel class, so imagine everyone's surprise when he sent out the collective email detailing that he was canceling class because his wife was in labor.

What.

He sent them the slides for the day and a previous recording from a while back, letting them know that class on Thursday would be on zoom — a link that he will post onto the class canvas eventually.

He signs off the email with a photo of the baby locked by a password hidden in the slides, and he replies to everyone's congratulations once you're back in the home. He ends up staying back to teach the rest of the term from home because he was taking care of the baby

It was something briefly mentioned on his rate my professor, detailing how Professor Riley had "Moved the rest of our semester online because he wanted to stay home and take care of his wife. How did the school allow this?" and "I for one loved the online classes and congrats to him for finally being a father — 5/5 for my semester tbh" but truth was while the rate my professors ratted him out, his students didn't mention that class was moved online at the time.

So, when he lets his class know that he'll be out for a couple of weeks and moving class online, everyone sends in their congratulations early, earning a furrow of his brows and a laugh from your lips as he reads his emails to you.

"They really read their RMP reviews huh?"

"Sure did. I didn't even mention it this time. I barely talk about our daughter." He hums, hand on your bump as the second kicks at it.

"Well, I think I walked in once or twice." You hum. "Besides, they like it online."

"I do too." He mumbles, pinching at his daughter's cheeks as she giggles. "But most people don't pick up enough when you teach online."

"That's true." You take the berry from your daughter's hand as she hands one to you and presses another to Simon's lips.

"Thank you, sweetheart."

She nods, eyes glued back onto the screen as you glance at the recent check-up results.

"You bet Johnny's gonna cancel class too?"

"Heard he already told his students."

"Crazy."

[deaconusdelirium]

ᰔᩚ Older bf!Simon indulging his kid at heart

-

Simon never really minded the fact that his childhood was stripped from him, it happened, it’s over, what can he do about it? Nothing. Best move on to more important things. He thinks about it, but it no longer effects him. He’s human, so at some point he’s going to watch a kid play to their hearts content like it was a foreign thing to him

Simon who raises a brow at every little thing you do when he finally starts to love you. Watching you stare at the toy section a little too long before picking out a coloring book and even longer at the crayon section. The basket in the crook of his elbow as he crossed his arms.

“What’s the difference, luvie? They all color the same” he huffed quietly, earning a soft glare in return. “Oh hush, they’re not the same. See? These ones are pastels, these ones have glitter, this one has forty colors-” you go on as he rolls his eyes and stares off down the aisle. His attention immediately being brought back as you all of a sudden stop. Then he seen what you were eyeing. The colored pencils. He looked at them and then at you before sighing and walking over. Grabbing them and show them to you. “What’s the deal with this one?” He asks, trying to find the difference yet again between the crayons and then pencils. You step forward and then smile almost sadly. “I’ve never really had colored pencils, always seen them but my parents told me they’d go in the trash one way or another” you replied. He didn’t even think twice before putting them in the basket

Simon who watches you later on that night color in the first page that stands out to you. Seeing you color outside the lines but never really seeming to mind. “Inside the lines, darlin” he mumbled as he laid in bed. One arm propping him up as you laughed softly, “oh hush, leave me alone. I like it” you smiled, “you like it messy?” He asked, “well… when you put it that way it sounds sloppy. But everyone always got mad that I colored outside the lines. Found being too perfect was always boring and never really fun. But I like this” you leaned back, looking at the paper as he nodded. Picking up a pencil and then gave a small scribble to the paper.

Simon who finds comfort in walking beside you down a sidewalk. At first he was confused, one second you both were walking and the next he was yanked back, “what’s wrong?” He looked around for any sign of trouble, then looked down at you, realizing you were counting your steps in the large rectangles in the concrete. “I stepped four steps in the last block, if I take another step, this one will be five” you muttered. Deciding not to question it, he picked you up, setting you in the next block and started walking along side you again. Now every time you walk together, he counts how many steps you take in each one, stopping and waiting for you if you need to jump a little or if you mess up your numbers, “you’re at three, luv”

Simon who pretty much never questions anything you do anymore, you want something? He’ll get it for you. Even if it’s a little bottle of bubbles, he’ll grab an extra bottle just so that if you ever run out, you’ll have another. He won’t admit it, but likes seeing which bubble will last the longest before popping

Simon who goes shopping with you and helps you pick out a stuffed animal, which turns into stuffed animals. “Oh- look at this one Si, this one’s a seal” you picked up a chunky looking stuffed animal. Giving a squish before holding it out to Simon, who gives a squish and then takes it into his large calloused hands. Scrunching it a few times and lays his head on it, then nods. Looking at the others, “look at this one, babe, it’s a shrimp” he chuckles, picking it up and showing you. A smile blossoming on your face as you grab it. You both going home with stuffed animals of your own, who later get turned into cuddle buddies. Sedrick the Shrimp and Samuel the Seal

Simon who will bring you your favorite lunch with a nice drink on the side to your work. Walking in pass the reception desk and into your office, seeing that you’re on a call, he holds your food so he can personally give it to you as he walks around the place. Mindlessly playing with a few little trinkets you got lying around. He puts the bag of food between his chest and arm, the drink in his hand while his other squeezes the chicken stress ball. Giving a small chuckle as its eyes pop out with every squeeze. Then he finds another little toy. A crane of sort that has a string attached to the tip that’s holding a ring at the end. A small hook on the beam as he tries to get the ring onto the hook. Giving a quiet “yes” as he finally gets it. Then hands your food over with a kiss when you’re done

Simon who stays up with you one night, not having to worry about waking up early for work. So he has you get up, telling you he’s hungry and that he wants to get something to eat. Then when you tell him you have to get ready. He protests, pulling your hand and tells you that he’s not going out to impress anyone and that he’d rather you be comfortable than walking around fully dressed with your clothes you wanted to wear tomorrow, just to get fast food. Tells you that he feels better when you feel good. Both of you don’t have to worry about the burdens of adult life that early morning

Simon who goes to the Lego section with you- well, more like he drags you to the Lego aisle. Telling you that he likes this one he seen a few days ago. Pretends to look for it when he made it up as an excuse so you two could actually look for something to build together. “Look at this one love, it’s a picture frame” he holds up a box, showing you. “I like that one, but I also like this camera one” you also hold up the box, he looks between the two. Eyes darting to the side before something catches his eye. “Baby, look. These are bracelets, you put little legos on them”. He immediately grabs the box, dropping them all into the cart, not even minding the price it’ll come out to. “We should look at the friendship bracelets” he buys you the bracelets anyways, going home and building the legos together, putting a Polaroid of you two beneath the camera one. Putting a picture in the picture frame one, and you both wearing the lego bracelets

Simon who picks out baby clothes, not boring bland pink or blue ones. No, those are too cliche, no, he wants something that will make those beautiful eyes he knows your little baby have, pop out. Even if he has to special order a few clothes and blankets, he’ll do it. Little onesies that have pictures of Sedrick and Samuel that were obviously custom made by the best and most liked shop.

Simon who signs your little one up for whatever their heart desires. They want to try soccer? He’s going to buy them a small goal and a ball so they can practice in the backyard of your home. They see an event coming into town and they want to go? He’s more than willing to take them. They want money for a book fair? He knows the teachers are assholes so he waits until they get home so he can go back with them. Helping them pick out whatever their little heart wants. Erasers, book marks, little toys, it’s all theirs. They want extra cuddles for the heck of it? He’s bringing you down with the two of them.

Simon who ends up healing his childhood through you and his kid. Even if he was a little embarrassed about it all in the beginning, he realized that he’d rather make memories than skip them being shy and hurting you and your kids’ feelings.

(He totally has his own stash of toys and his own coloring books he’s accumulated over the years he’s known you. He even has his own blankets with hero’s and stuffed animals of his own) ᰔᩚ

-

not really proof read, but you get the idea. Just had this in my head for a bit

[moody-alcoholic]

Making them feel good

Hello to my American readers cos it's 3:30 here and I'm tired.

MDNI +18 content

Summary: Ghoap x Reader, throuple. Slow burn (sorry but not sorry). 2.7k words. Reader is female (she/her), army nurse, non descript physical features, names used: Ashe.

CW: MDNI + 18 content. Smut, multiple blowjobs, oral (M receiving x2), kissing & licking, cum swallowing, little bit of Mdom, tiny bit of hurt/comfort. Look they're expressing their feelings what can I say.

Previous parts - masterlist - next part

Enjoy ya filthy animals <3

You feel your body moved, there are more then two hands now. Your head is on Simon’s lap the blanket still wrapped round your body. You force yourself to keep my eyes closed not wanting to cause a bother. 

“You let me sleep too long” You hear Johnny say. 

“You needed it.” Simon replies. 

“What about you?” Johnny says sighing. 

“Don’t worry about me.” Simon says his hand falling on your shoulder. You feel Johnny move closer to Simon leaning over to kiss him, you hear their lips smacking together. 

“I always worry about you.” You hear Johnny say quietly. 

“I know.” Simon says as they pull apart. You feel like you’ve just invaded their privacy, maybe you should have moved to make them know you’re still there, or something. Simon’s hand is rubbing your shoulder as you feel Johnny move off the sofa. 

“Want anything to eat?” You hear Johnny ask from a distance he must be in the kitchen. 

“What you making?” Simon asks.

“We don’t have anything in.” Johnny says, you hear the sound of a fridge door close. “What time is it?” 

“7,” Simon says. 

“Lets order in, what do you think she’ll like?” Johnny asks you can hear him making his way back to the couch. 

“Let’s order from that Mexican place that does the super stuffed burritos.” Simon says. You hear Johnny tapping on his phone. 

“40 minutes?” He asks.,

“Yeah that’s good.” Simon says. You try to convince yourself you’ll let them know you’ve been a wake but you can’t help yourself keeping your body still and your breathing steady, you doze off again. 

The doorbell jolts you awake, for a second you think you’re in a hospital and it’s a respiratory alarm going off. When you see the darkness outside you remember where you are.

“You okay?” Simon asks his hand on the small of your back. You nod letting yourself wake up properly the smell of fresh cooked food filling your nose. 

“We got some food if you’re hungry?” Johnny asks as he puts the delivery bags on the table. Your body’s stiff as you sit up straight the blanket falls to the floor. 

“I need to pee.” You say pulling yourself to your feet. Your body still feels sleepy as you make your way to the bathroom. You lock the door making your way to the toilet. ‘You should always pee after sex to decrease the risk of UTI’s’ your nurse brain tells you, bit late for that. You look in the mirror as you wash your hands. The bags under your eyes are getting heavier, you need to get a good nights sleep. When you leave the room you see Simon and Johnny on the couch, Johnny with his arm around Simon’s shoulders munching on a wrap. You make your way back over to the living room, feeling guilty for eavesdropping on their conversation earlier. 

“There’s chicken or pork which one do you want?” Johnny asks taking food out the bag. 

“Chicken sounds good.” You say and he hands you the wrap you sit in the recliner next to the sofa pulling your knees to your chest. The news is playing, you pretend to pay attention to it as you pull the foil off the wrap taking a bite. It tastes good, salty and oily exactly what you need after today. Simon and Johnny talk about whats happening on the news, you’re half listening to it as you eat the burrito.  

“Looks like it’s all kicking off.” Johnny says. Simon replies with a grunt. All of a sudden the Burrito tastes stale in your mouth. You put it down on the coffee table. The pit of guilt is not going away. You try to rack your brain to why you’re feeling like this. All you can think about is Simon. Johnny got to fuck you, Simon didn’t get anything, Johnny said he was rough Simon didn’t seem rough. 

“Simon,” You say as you turn to look at him, Johnny is laid up against his chest. His eyes fall on you as you slip out the chair crawling on your knees toward him. “I want to make you feel good.” You say as your hands find his knees.

“Oh yeah? How you plan on doing that?” He asks playfully, his legs parting so you can run your hands down his thighs. 

“Let me suck your dick?” You ask. He chuckles and you look at Johnny who winks at you stroking Simon’s chest. Simon’s hand reaches down into his sweatpants pulling his cock out. You were right he’s bigger then Johnny, of course he is, and he’s not even fully hard yet. 

“Think you can take it?” He asks, his voice low as he strokes himself in front of you. You don’t care if you can or not now it’s a challenge. You look up at him nodding, Johnny is smiling as he nuzzles his face into Simon’s neck. Your hands reach out as you move your body between his legs making sure you’re comfortable on you knees and take his cock in your hands. You rub up and down using your thumb to push into the underside. Simon’s head tilts back as Johnny licks his neck. You take a breath in pulling his foreskin back so you can wet his tip with your tongue. 

“Fuck-” he moans his free hand resting on the top of your head. You just go for it locking your mouth round and forcing yourself to take the whole thing. You hold your breath letting him fill your mouth up all the way down to the back of your throat. You gag your mouth filling with saliva, Simon’s fingers run through your hair. Your head bobs up and down as you make sure to take every inch of him your tongue pressing into the underside of his cock as it grows bigger in your mouth. 

“Like the way she makes you feel?” You hear Johnny ask between kisses. Simon just murmurs in response, you could never imagine him letting himself go like this especially when he’s walking around with that skull mask on, the one that sends shivers up your spine when you see it. Right now he’s at your mercy, his body twitching with each stroke of your mouth, each kiss from Johnny. Simon grips your hair helping your head move up and down, he’s rough just like Johnny said making you take him all the way to the hilt as tears form in your eyes. You don’t mind though this is your time to make him feel good. You move faster pressing harder with your tongue, Johnny’s moaning sweet things into Simon's ear making your body crave touch too. You move one of your hands into your underwear rubbing your clit, you don’t care if you get off but it feels good and it makes you more eager to please. Simon’s hand moves from your hair to your face, gently tapping your cheeks. 

“Hey, look up at me love.” He says, you force your eyes open without stopping your pace. Johnny’s mouth is burred in Simon's neck, his hand under his shirt rubbing his chest. “I want you to look me in the eyes when I fill your mouth up.” 

Holy shit the tingles travelling through your body are almost electric. You keep your eyes on him letting him thrust in and out of your mouth, your fingers circling your clit as you keep in time with his thrusts. He’s moaning as he gets closer to the edge, you don’t take your eyes off him. He pushes deep into your mouth and you push your head as deep as you can as he cums, his hot seed fills you up as his cock throbs in your mouth. You wait until you feel him relax before pulling your head back swallowing his cum.

Johnny is still stroking Simon’s chest whispering in his ear just quiet enough so you can’t hear. You don’t care though you made him feel good. You feel the pit go away in your stomach as you move your body from between his legs taking your hand out your underwear. You watch as Johnny kisses Simon his hand stroking his cheek. 

“Johnny you have to let her do that to you.” Simon says as he pulls away, his hand gently touching himself. You look up at Johnny with needy eyes, the prospect of making him feel good too has got you all worked up again. Johnny seems to pause for a second looking between you and Simon. 

“I don’t mind.” You say trying not to sound greedy. Johnny smiles pulling away from Simon spreading his legs so you can move between him. He’s already hard as he pulls his cock out. You look up at Simon who’s eyes have glazed over and he moves closer to Johnny. 

“You sure you’re alright lass?” Johnny asks as you take him in your hands. You nod, your tongue licking the bead of precum off his tip. He’s not as big as Simon, not that you’re complaining you’re going to make him feel good just the same. You lock your mouth around him taking his cock all the way to the hilt. His moans are just as good as Simon, the ache between your legs intensifies as you enjoy each inch of him filling your mouth. 

“Shite, Si, she’s almost as good as you.” Johnny says. You don’t have time to processes what Johnny is saying you just move faster looking up at him as his eyes roll back in his head. Simon pulls Johnny’s chin to look at him their lips locking together. Johnny twitches in your mouth causing you to close your eyes and moan on him. He likes that and you  work faster hearing him pant trying to keep his cool composure as he gets closer to the edge. Simon's voice reverberating off Johnny as he tells him how good he’s being. It doesn’t take long before he’s coming too, you take him deep just like you did with Simon making sure you feel every spasm and throb until he’s twitching from over stimulation.

You pull away swallowing your second load of the night watching as Johnny sucks in deep breaths Simon stroking his face. You smile at them getting up picking your glass up from the coffee table and heading into the kitchen. You run the tap for a few seconds then fill the glass up drinking it down then leaving the glass in the sink. When you walk back to the living room you see Simon’s head on Johnny chest. You decide not to interrupt them heading to the bedroom and crawling into bed. You close your eyes exhausted but satisfied, you can still taste their cum in your mouth as you drift off to sleep.        

—————————— 

You wake with your arm spread on Johnny’s chest, light is coming in through the bedroom window. Simon is behind you snoring softly, you don’t even remember them coming to bed. You slowly and quietly slip out from between them leaving the door ajar and heading into the kitchen. You’re craving a coffee and after searching through the cupboards for a while you find some and boil the kettle. Your eyes keep flicking to the bedroom door hoping you’re not waking them up. You decide to take the coffee out to the balcony grabbing the throw from the couch on your way out.

The sounds of busy central London fill your ears as you breathe in the frigid air. You make your way to the chair pulling the blanket round you and watching the activity on the Thames. The sun is still low in the sky covering everything in a burnt orange hue. You relax back in the chair sipping your coffee. You think back to yesterday and how natural everything felt. Johnny and Simon being so accommodating, you’ve never felt anything like this before, you’ve never had boyfriends or one night stands treat you anything like the way Johnny and Simon seem to fawn over you. The coffee burns your tongue as you swallow it down.

There was something different with Johnny and Simon, you knew this time it was going to be different. Not just because it was a three way relationship but the fact that it felt like a relationship and not just a fling or a few month fling. Holy shit you were actually falling for them, falling for them both. There was no Johnny without Simon and there was no Simon without Johnny. You smile as you sip the coffee watching the sun rise over the London skyline. 

“You okay?” Johnny makes you jump as he sticks his head out the door, your free hand flies to your chest. 

“Jesus, sneak up like that on everyone?” You ask as he walks out the door. 

“You think I’m quiet you should hear Simon.” He says smiling. “Or I guess you don’t hear him.”

 You smile at him get up drinking the rest of your cup as you walk towards him. He moves aside to let you in as you drop the throw on the couch heading to the kitchen. Johnny follows you the whole time as soon as you’ve put the cup in the sink his arms are around you. You turn to look at him as he pulls you closer to him. His lips moving to yours, you sink into his embrace as he kisses you moving his tongue round your mouth. 

“Yesterday was amazing.” He says as he pulls away your arms locking round his neck.

“Oh yeah?” You say in a desperate attempt at praise. Johnny just smiles at you his lips moving back to yours, it’s slow and sensual the type of kiss that makes your knees shake, your body warms up as he presses you against the sink. 

“Johnny,” You say breaking away from the kiss. “Johnny, I think I’m falling in love with you, you and Simon.” You wait for the laugh, or maybe he’ll be angry that you say you love his husband. You hold your breath waiting for the inevitable let down of being the third wheel. Instead his hand cups your cheek pulling your face up to his. 

“You know how long we’ve been waiting for that.” He says, you look confused but he pulls you in for another kiss. 

“This isn’t a fling, it’s not about the sex, its about a relationship.” Johnny says as he strokes your cheek his forehead on yours. You feel a wave of emotions come over you, suddenly you feel like you’ve said the wrong thing. Johnny seems to pick up on your change in body language his hands finds your waist and he moves you back to the bedroom.

“I don’t want to wake Simon.” You whisper as he pushes you through the door. 

“Just trust me.” He whispers as he guides you to the bed you get in with your back to Simon, Johnny laying next to you. He reaches over you grabbing Simon’s hand pulling it over you and onto him. 

“See this, feel him behind you, this is real and this is want we want, it’s not a fling.” You nod listening to his words. You feel Simon stir behind you as his hand grips Johnny’s side. Simon nestles his head in your neck kissing you. Your body is frozen hoping he’ll go back to sleep and get some rest.  

“Relax baby,” you hear Simon say sleepily, your eyes are still locked on Johnny as he strokes you cheek. You let your body relax. 

“We love you too.” Johnny says quietly kissing your forehead. 

It’s not just a fling, it’s a relationship. 

Next part

[wispscribbles]

wedding photo <3

[stellewriites]

ghost and soap that move in together in between missions to save on money and eventually - inevitably - fall into bed together. but somethings missing

they’re both a little too sharp around the edges, need something sweet to ease their cravings and soften their bites, but no one fits right

until you, that is. so don’t be surprised when they make sure you’re sticking around by any means necessary

[24-05txt]

In regards to the whole soul mate thing, Soap's been through all the phases.

He'd started curious, then confused, then mournful, then resentful. For now he's settled somewhere in the vicinity of apathy—maybe spite.

He doesn't have a soul-mark. Never has, never will, and that's... fine. He's far from the only one lacking that kind of connection, and that's enough for him to feel understood. Not alone. He's got plenty of good friends besides—with and without soulmates of their own—and he's happy that way. Really, he is; it took him a fair amount of work to get to a place where he could say that and it not be wishful thinking. He's got friends, family, dalliances, motion and company and light in his life despite the lack of a mark that tells him where his place is.

And then he meets Ghost.

The Lieutenant is huge in the sense that his presence alone takes up what space his height and muscle can't. He's quiet, too, at least before Soap makes the effort to worm his way under all that tacgear. (The man is intriguing, what can he say? Who else walks around with a honest-to-fuck skull mask day in and out.)

Ghost seems to tolerate him at first, then inexplicably starts to prickle and grouch whenever Soap comes within six feet of him. He could make up a few reasons for why that is, but instead contents himself with pretending he doesn't notice—pushing the implied boundary until Ghost mans up and tells him off.

He never does, though. And it's not long at all until Soap's found that the boundary has given way and Ghost is—well he's actually pretty pleasant to be around. He's funny, and patient, and gives way too much of a shit to be in a career that pretty much ensures the death of everyone he works with. (He likes to pretend he doesn't, but there's no other reason he would have been waiting up in that church for Soap—in fact he shouldn't have still been there at all, since he'd already scoped an escape route. The bastard's soft, is what he's saying.)

And that's when things start to backslide just a little.

They're sitting in the mess—only three of them, the Captain unable to grace them with his presence—and Gaz is talking about his sister's husband's new boyfriend being the result of a late-discovery soulmatch.

"Could you imagine," he says, pausing to chew his mouthful before he continues. "Going thirty years knowing there's someone out there for you, and not seeing them until after you're already married?"

"Could be platonic," Soap pointed out, not bothering with the same courtesy of chewing his food. Ghost kicks him under the table for it, but he honestly can't be asked to care for only three words worth.

"Could be, but still—could you imagine?"

"Nope." Soap pops the 'P' and grins. Ghost doesn't kick him this time since he hasn't taken another bite yet. "I'm a wee bit hopeless in that department."

"Ah, brother." Gaz reaches out and they clasp hands for a moment, then he nudges his shoulder. "You and me both. Never much got the fuss about it, but that does seem like some sort of cosmic irony yeah?"

"Issat irony?" Soap asks. "Don't think that's right."

Obviously, that incites a short argument that ends when Gaz pulls out his phone to look up the actual dictionary definition of 'irony', and Soap grasps to change the topic to literally anything else to avoid Gaz gloating on the off chance that he's right.

"Lt, what about you?"

Ghost blinks at him as if he hasn't been staring at the both of them through the whole conversation.

"I know what irony is, Johnny."

"No—" he can't help the scowl, and talks over Gaz's sudden jeering as he shoves his phone under his nose. Soap lifts his chin to avoid it. "You got a soul mark?"

"Read it and weep, Soap!" Gaz cheers, only slightly subdued in respect for every else in the room.

"I do." Ghost says at the same time, dipping his head in a tiny little nod, and Soap's world ends just a little bit, right there in the mess hall. Curls up, withers, and dies without so much as a squeal.

He's not able to ask if Ghost knows who it is, or if he's met them, or if they're still alive, or if it's romantic or platonic; he's not sure if it even matters, because Johhny knows right then that he will never be as close to Ghost as they are.

And it hurts.

It hurts in a way he wasn't entirely expecting.

He must hold it together well enough through the rest of dinner, and then through walking with Gaz back to their rooms, but once he's got the door locked behind him he feels the smile fall off his face. He sits down on the edge of his bed.

Ghost has a soulmate.

Ghost has a soulmate and Soap is pissed about it. Because that soulmate isn't him—it can't be, since he doesn't have a mark of his own.

It's just—it's unfair. They work so well together, on the field and off. He knows for a fact no one else can read Ghost as well as he can, no one else talks to him like he does, he doesn't hang around anyone else like he seems to hang around Soap. If anyone should be Ghost's soulmate, it should be him.

But he's not. Which means there's someone else out there that can watch his six better, understand him more, have more satisfying conversations—and it seems fucking impossible, because he doesn't even know how it could get better given the time they've known eachother... and yet.

And yet Ghost has a mark, and Soap doesn't.

It takes him days to get over it—at least enough to act himself when he's in company. Ghost tries to get him to talk about it three separate times before he can manage to get his shit together. He won't *lie* to Simon, nor is he about to admit to what's eating at him, and it leaves him snappish. Leaves the vitriol closer to the surface than it ever has been around Ghost and he hates to see how he reacts to it; he doesn't cower, doesn't flinch, doesn't avoid him, just stares—in a different way than before. John's temper will flare and Ghost will freeze a little, tilt his head, furrow his brow, and fucking stare at him until the moment passes. It might be better if he raised his voice in return, let it escalate into a proper fight—or even if he shut Soap down hard and told him to cool off. Instead Ghost looks at him like he's gone and become a stranger; like he's confused where he doesn't expect to be, and that hurts almost as much as finding out his place isn't next to Simon—or at least, he doesn't have any rightful claim to it.

[aceghosts]

tender for riley and ingo because i miss them 😭

I miss them too! Forgot how much I like writing for them.

[Microstory Prompts]

Prompt: Tender Warnings: None.

Out of all the places in Hisui, the Alabaster Icelands had to be the absolute worst. Colder than any winter they had experienced back in modern times, Riley always returned to Jubilife Village freezing, no matter how much they bundled up. Heading back towards their residence, Riley finds Ingo waiting by their door, waving them down. “Riley,” several of the townsfolk jump at his booming voice, but Riley smiles, already feeling a little less miserable and a little more at home, “I see you’ve had a safe journey from the Alabaster Icelands! How was your quest to continue you with your cataloging of the Pokemon?”

“So-so, Didn’t find as much as I would like,” Ingo gives them a sympathetic look as they open the door, “But I’m sure I’ll find them. Wanna come in for coffee?”

“I would appreciate some coffee, but-,” He gives them a pointed look towards their hands, “you are shaking, and we should-.”

“Just cold,” They tease, sliding one of their gloves off and pressing the back of their right hand to his cheek, “See? Takes me a while to shake off the freeze from the icelands.”

His silver eyes widen slightly at the contact before taking their hand in his warm one, his touch incredibly tender and warm. “We should hurry inside and get you warmed up to avoid any potential injuries,” Ingo states, pulling them into their residence all while holding onto their hand. Ingo’ll find no complaint from Riley, especially if he’s the one helping them to warm up.

[moldycigarette]

warnings: 🪦🕊️ DNE, angst, implied assault towards reader, use of y/n, afab, protective simon, talk of torture, talk of blood, fluff at the end, i’m sincerely sorry

—————

being married to simon has both perks and downsides. don’t get me wrong, simon is the exact opposite of “ghost” when he’s not at work and makes sure it stays that way, especially around you. he’s nurturing, funny, kind, loving, loyal, and puts you before himself even when you tell him not to.

sure, he can be a stubborn bastard sometimes but he knows how to make it up to you.

in the beginning of your relationship, it was difficult for him to open up, and understandably so given his past. he was cold and distant, sometimes to the point where you questioned if he even wanted to be with you. however, he made up for it. he became more relaxed with you, starting to accept more than just the occasional kiss on the cheek. he was hopelessly devoted to you and proved that to you every day, even if he wasn’t home. whether it was sending you cute texts or small gifts, you knew it was going to be okay as long as you had him.

so, as a loving wife expecting her husband to come home after months in dangerous situations, you expect simon to come home and greet you like he always does; soft kisses and tenderness that can only be shared between the two of you.

when you hear a knock on the door, you immediately jump up, ready to finally feel simon’s embrace. but, when you open the door, your stomach drops.

a large man in a hoodie and black balaclava, one you knew wasn’t simon’s, stands in front of you holding a gun to the center of your forehead. you freeze, not knowing whether to defend yourself or run.

“do as i say and put the bag over your head.” he grumbles. you comply, not wanting to make the situation worse.

everything goes dark after feeling a sharp knock to your head.

—————

you’re eyes slowly open, scanning the room with fear. you try to stand, only to find your arms and ankles tied to a metal chair.

the room is plain, only filled with you, a small overhead light, security cameras in each corner, and a bolted door directly across from you.

your head is aching, bruises surely littering across your face. where the hell are you? one moment, you’re waiting for your husband to come home and the next you wake up in a cold, dark room.

what time is it? has simon come home yet, only to find glass smashed and the door broken down with you nowhere in sight?

suddenly, the door opens with a loud creak echoing across the room. a man steps forward, his hands in his pockets with a gun sitting along his hip.

is this it? is this how you’re going to die?

“y/n riley.”

no. no no no, how does he know your name? what does he-

“you’re quite a pretty thing, ain’t ya’? ‘s a shame you married a bum like ghost,” he whispers, hand brushing your cheek.

you flinch away, glaring up at him with both anger and fear. “what do you want?” you ask.

the man chuckles, his monstrous laugh spreading like wildfire. “i want to know where the files are.”

what? what files?

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you spat.

“wow, for a girl so beautiful you sure have a bratty attitude. that’s gonna have to change.”

he brings his hand back, slapping you hard across your face while tears threaten to fall.

“i’m not telling you shit!”

a hand grasps around your throat, squeezing like a lemon on a hot summer day. you reach to claw his hands away but are met with rug burns on your wrists.

“if you keep this up, we’ll do a lot more than slap you” he says. when he finally let’s go of your throat after what feels like hours, you gasp and cough.

he begins to walk away, making some kind of signal to the guards surrounding the door. suddenly, a table of medical tool sits next to you.

fuck.

“no, no no no please i-” another slap stings your face before you can finish your sentence, the burning sensation spreading across your cheek.

a man picks up a scalpel in his gloved hand, holding your hand down with the other. “either tell us where the files are, or you’ll be cut into tiny pieces. your choice, doll,” a sinister smile spreads across his face as he looks down at you.

“please, i’m begging you! i don’t know what yo-” the scalpel swipes across your wrist in one swift motion, causing blood to seep onto the concrete floor. you scream, pain spreading to your chest as you feel a heavy weight on your throat.

the other guard wraps a metal wire around your neck, cutting into the soft flesh just enough to torture, but not kill.

you can’t breathe, sharp blades cutting along your body. punches land to your face, stinging sensations surrounding you until all you see is black.

—————

it’s been at least two days. you’ve become numb from the pain, burns littering your tired body from boiling water and a black eye that causes you unable to see.

where is simon?

he’ll come soon, right? he has to, there’s no way he could live without you in his life… right?

your mind flashes back to your wedding day, happy tears pouring from both of your faces while listening to the others vows. he promised to take care of you and protect you, no matter the cost.

so where is he?

your broken ribs ache with a growling stomach. you couldn’t deal with this anymore, when will it stop?

when will the men forcing themselves onto you and the burning stop? when will simon find you?

your head hangs low before shooting up from the sounds of gunshots. no, no no. they’re going to kill you.

the door slams open as you sob, salty tears stinging along your battered body.

“oh god, sweetheart.”

a familiar low voice rings across the room, bringing attention to your ears and causing you to shoot your head up. your sobs increase as you watch your husband run towards you before cradling your face in his hands.

“i’m sorry love, i’m so sorry,” he whispered.

gunshots continued ringing in the halls, screams filling your head. simon begins untying the ropes while speaking in quick bursts. you see tears flood his eyes as he looks at your body, naked, bruised, and scarred.

you jump into his arms, ignoring the pain you feel. you finally had simon, and that’s all you wanted.

you could care less about the snot and tears spreading across his tactical vest, he can always find another one.

“ghost! halls’ clear, helicopter landing in 5!” you hear a scottish voice speak over his radio.

everyone is here. everyone you care about is here to save you.

simon takes off his vest and shirt before putting it around you to cover you up, a spare pair of pants in the small bag behind him. he picks you up, hands under your knees and along your back. “‘s okay, sweetheart, i got ya’,” he whispers.

you grab tightly around his neck, fearing this is all a dream and he’ll fade away in a single moment. he runs towards an entrance as you hear a chopper sink onto a landing strip. blinding light burns your eyes from not seeing anything but unsettling darkness for god knows how long.

all you can cry is your husbands name before your head gets fuzzy and everything fades away.

—————

ok so i won’t lie i cried multiple times while writing this. it’s based off of a true story that happened to me when i was sold into a trafficking ring for three years and i thought channeling it into writing could be beneficial.

if you’re struggling in any way, just know that you matter and i’m always here for you. my messages and inbox are always open.

☻ jude

[pippynsworld]

[tame-the-lion-writes]

ghost drabble

I had a horrific dream where I was in an on-again-off-again relationship with a guy whose whole deal was "but you'll get hurt!"... So we're turning the weirdly consistent symbolism from said dream into a drabble cause why not.

_

Ghost was never good with feelings.

Sure, he's comfortable with certain people--the 141, namely, in that he can share a space with them without looking over his shoulder every half second, or being aware of every hair on the back of his neck.

Still, that doesn't mean he's open with them.

They can have conversations, they can share thoughts, but they can't be soft. They're the 141, for heaven's sake. The guys who get things done. And there's no room for that sort of domesticity--that appreciation of the small and humble--when you're out on the field, fighting for your country, your people, your life. So no, it's not just fight or flight mode that has him shifting around awkwardly when its back to the civilian world. It's the strange detachment, the odd disconnect, of trying to do normal things when one is anything but.

That's particularly true when it comes to romance: you're a sweet little thing. A bit feisty, but sweet, and good for him. And he knows that--he knows that you can't heal him, but you're a good motivator. And you're there when he needs to come home to something warm and dear and darling. There are nights when he wants nothing more than to rest his head in your lap, kneeling before you like the sinner he is, yet finding not admonishment but a quiet, calming comfort.

At the same time, though, he knows he's a target. That's why he never has a picture, not even on his official files. The name "Simon Riley" is as much of a ghost as his callsign. And that's what's kept him safe--having so little, or nothing at all, that there was nothing for his enemies to find. Nothing left to lose.

But now there's you, there's you, and he can lose you.

And he'd rather lose you on his own terms than someone else's.

"Simon, stop it. You're being mean."

Oh, yes, he's mean--and that's all he's ever known.

Your bottom lip is trembling because you're trying so hard to pout. So desperate to keep your frown instead of an open-mouth sobbed, and he's just standing there. This bulk of a man. His hands firm at his sides because if he'll reach for you, he knows he'll shake like you do now.

"I'm sorry," is all he says, an indifferent blankness in his stare.

But what hurts you more isn't that indifference--it's the fact you know it's a lie. That you've carved a hole in his heart and melted the ice, and he's trying to freeze it. Undo all your hard work--his hard work. Because he's so damn stupid and selfish with his utter selflessness.

He'll come crawling back eventually. He just needs some time. Because you were everything and anything and more, and he wanted to be enough. If he can't have you now, and if he's afraid to lose you, first he'll have to get rid of everything that could ever take you.

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 5 - Rough Sex

Ghost x Soap - 3k (on ao3)

summary: Ghost recognizes the bartender from one of his favorite websites. (Ghost POV) (lightly inspired by this art)

cw: dark fic, noncon sex, rough sex, degradation, slut-shaming, victim-shaming (phrases like "asking for it" and "wanted it" are used), public sex (no getting caught), anal sex with minimal prep, ghost is mean and johnny is upset

Ghost recognized the bartender the moment he stepped into the building. How could he not? He’d fucked his own fist to those big blue eyes and pouty pink lips more times than he could count, he hadn’t even needed to look twice to recognize him. 

He hadn’t been subtle about his attraction to the man – dropthesoap online but Johnny according to his nametag. He’d parked himself on a stool close to the wall and hadn’t let his eyes stray from the bartender even once. His place at the edge of the bar means Johnny spends most of his time with his back to Simon, giving him a truly fantastic view of his ass in the cutoff jean shorts practically painted onto him. 

He’s flirty when he takes Simon’s order, leans his elbows on the counter so his loose tank top hangs low, showing off the necklace dangling over his chest and drawing Ghost’s eyes to his tits. The smirk on his lips is cocky and self-assured when Ghost ogles him, and Simon has the sudden and overwhelming urge to break him. 

He sits there for hours, taking the refills when Soap – Johnny – stops by to give them, but not drinking enough to get even tipsy. He wants to be fully aware when he gets his first taste of Johnny, doesn’t want to miss even a second of tonight.

It’d be a lie to say he’s not annoyed by how long Johnny’s shift is, but Simon’s spent longer in the same spot with worse views. After the first hour he pulls out his phone and scrolls through his favorite videos of Soap’s – he’s got them bookmarked, plus a whole photo album of screenshots capturing his favorite moments. 

If anybody nearby is put off by the not-at-all-disguised porn he’s got pulled up (or the tent in his jeans), they don’t say anything. Ghost is left to his own devices, content to look back and forth between the ass getting fucked on his screen and the same ass bent over a counter as Johnny reaches for someone’s card.

(Ghost ducks into the bathroom somewhere around the two and a half hour mark, his cock so hard it’s verging on painful. He sees no need to deny himself, not when he knows he’ll have what he wants by the end of the night. Besides, getting himself off now means he’ll be able to fuck Johnny without busting the second he gets his cock in like some teenage kid.

When he makes eye contact on his way back to his stool, Johnny winks. Ghost can’t wait to get his teeth around his throat and bite until Soap goes limp.)

It’s past midnight when Johnny finally unclips his nametag, patting one of his coworkers on the back. He meets Ghost’s eyes as he turns towards the backroom, winking just before he ducks out.

Ghost is out of his seat the second Johnny disappears. 

He’d seen the staff-door leading into the alley when he smoked before heading inside, had seen another waiter come out for a cig of their own, so he knows there’s a good chance Johnny’ll come out here.

He hardly has to wait ten minutes before the door opens, warm light flooding the otherwise dark alley – the streetlamp just on the corner is burned out, has been for months, and leaves the whole sidewalk dark once the sun sets. It’s to Ghost’s benefit, allowing him to watch from the shadows as Johnny steps out of the building, rubbing his hands together to fight off the light chill.

He waits until Johnny’s turned away, starting towards the mouth of the alley before he makes his move. One hand on the nape of his neck, the other on his elbow, and Ghost has him pinned in one quick move.

“What–” Johnny hisses, immediately throwing himself back and swinging his free arm in a messy attempt at a punch. It’s child's play for Ghost to lock both his wrists in one hand, holding them at the base of his spine and forcing him into an arch as he presses against the smaller man’s back, letting him feel his size.

“Where do you think you’re goin’?” He rumbles, tongue darting out to taste the shell of Johnny’s ear. The man struggles beneath him, but Simon has him pinned too securely for him to even hope of landing a hit.

“Who the fuck do ye think ye–” Johnny cuts himself off this time, glaring over his shoulder at Ghost and getting his first real look at his face. Simon can see the exact moment recognition sets in, but if anything Johnny just gets tenser between him and the wall. “No fuckin’ way.”

“You recognize me?” Ghost says, resting more of his weight against Johnny. “Cause I recognize you.”

That makes him falter, wrists twitching in Ghost’s hold. “What?”

“Yeah,” Ghost sighs, grinding his hardening cock against Soap’s ass. “Don’t know how you don’t spend all day bent over. Even if none of ‘em have seen your videos, walkin’ around dressed like this?” He drops his hand from Johnny’s neck to his ass, groping him harshly enough to make the man squirm. “You’re practically beggin’ for it, slag.”

Johnny’s face is flushed red beneath him, just the way he gets when he’s getting rimmed, and Ghost’s cock kicks in his pants. 

“Get off of me,” Johnny hisses, forehead pressed to the brick wall as he breathes through clenched teeth. “I swear to God I’ll scream, arsehole.”

Ghost almost laughs, undoing his belt with one hand and shoving his jeans down just enough to yank his cock out. “Go ahead. I know you like puttin’ on a show.”

Soap’s hands jerk in Simon’s hold and now he really does laugh, working one calloused hand over his cock to make sure he’s fully hard before pawing at the jean shorts that have been driving him mad all night.

“Walkin’ around, practically flashin’ ass,” he taunts, tugging meanly at his belt loops until he can yank the shorts down. He glances down, groaning at the sight of them caught right beneath the curve of his ass and pushing his cheeks up. “So fuckin’ fat, goddamn.”

“Stop it, stop it,” Johnny growls, desperately pushing off the wall with his shoulders and wriggling from side to side like a worm on a hook. “Ye can’t fuckin’-- don’t touch me–”

Ghost smacks his ass once, hard enough for the sound to echo and Johnny to yelp in surprise. When he hears the hitch in Johnny’s breath he does it again, then again, pulling back just enough that he can redden both cheeks.

“Actin’ like you don’t want this,” Ghost says, pinching a particularly red spot and twisting until Johnny makes a sound close to a squeal. “If I told you to, you’d drop right now and swallow my cock.”

“I wouldn’t!” Johnny insists, face screwed up in what Simon’s sure is a mix of pain-pleasure – he’s seen enough of Soap’s videos to know how hard being hurt makes him. 

“Seem you do it enough times,” Simon continues, easing up on spanking him so he can grope him more fully, fingers running over the warmed skin and gripping hard enough to leave bruises. “You’re always so goddamn desperate for it, huh? Seen you nearly drown yourself in a cunt, damn near black out with a cock down your throat, happy as can be.”

“That’s– it’s different,” Johnny insists, pushing himself forward as far as he can and scraping his face against the brick. Ghost can only imagine how irritated the skin will be, maybe he’ll even bleed a bit, have a few scabs on his pretty face Simon hopes so, hopes in his next video he’ll get to see the fruits of his labor. 

“Nah,” Ghost rejects, finally shoving the shorts down fully so they’re resting around Johnny’s knees. “A cock is a cock for sluts like you.”

“Fuckin’– shut up,” Johnny whispers, eyes clenched tightly shut. “Just stop fuckin’ speaking.”

Simon obliges him for now, too focused on dragging his fingers across the hole he’ll be fucking to really care about responding. At least, until he brushes over something distinctly not-flesh that drags him to a stop.

He knows what it has to be immediately, knows there’s nothing else it could be, but still taps harshly at the end of it, pushing it up further into Johnny and making him gasp.

“What’s this, then?” He whispers, grabbing the hard plastic and twisting, pulling it against the ring of Johnny’s ass just enough to make him squirm again. “Oh, Johnny.”

“Stop, stop it,” the man hisses, and Ghost moans when the first tear slips down his cheek. 

“You get fucked before comin’ here?” He asks, pulling on the plug more fully now so that it pops out of Soap’s ass and he can fuck him more fully, watching intently as Johnny shudders. “Let someone get you all dirty before comin’ to work and beggin’ for another man?”

“I didn’t– I’m not–” Johnny heaves, face pinches like he’s in pain. “I’m not fuckin’ beggin’, ye arsehole, ye won’t listen.”

Ghost hums, forcing the plug in more roughly, stretching him now. “Or did you do this to yourself before comin’ out? Stick a couple fingers in your needy hole, maybe get yourself off, huh?”

He yanks the plug out, stuffing three dry fingers in just after and relishing in the cry he yanks from Johnny. He’s wet inside, but not dripping, and Ghost can tell immediately that he did this to himself.

“Jesus, you really are a whore,” he groans, leaning forward to bite Johnny’s shoulder, squeezing tight and scissoring his fingers. “You’ll fuck yourself if you can’t find anyone else to do the job, ‘s that it?”

“Please,” Johnny begs, every blink sending more tears down his cheeks. “Please.”

Ghost coos mockingly, pulling his fingers out and patting Johnny on the ass. “Yeah? You need me that bad? Not sure if you’re stretched enough, but you’ll be tighter like this.”

“Wait, don’t,” Johnny gasps, struggling renewed when Ghost presses the plush head of his cock to his winking hole. “Ye can’t– ye need lube.”

Ghost huffs, smacking Johnny’s ass again. “You think I carry lube on me? I’m not like you, I don’t just walk around waiting to fuck.”

Johnny keens and Ghost presses himself forward again, just about to breach his hole.

“Please, please! Just let me– fuck, spit or somethin’, ye can’t– I need–”

“Spit?” Simon tilts his head consideringly, then grabs Johnny’s face, jerking it over his shoulder and surely giving him a crick in the neck. “Alright then. C’mon.”

Johnny doesn’t have a chance to protest before Simon shoves his fingers in his mouth, pushing them to the back of his throat immediately and tapping his tongue. Soap’s eyes go wide, panic making him lurch in Ghost’s grasp.

“Thought you wanted this?” Ghost grunts, hold tightening as he forces the smaller man still again. “You don’t get this bitchy in your videos, y’know? ‘S false advertising.”

Johnny whines as Ghost drags his fingers out, smearing spit all over his cheeks and smearing his tear tracks. He jerks his cock quickly, coating himself in the spit still coating his fingers.

“Now shut the fuck up,” he hisses, letting his voice drop so low he can hardly hear himself as he finally pushes himself inside of Johnny. “And take it.”

Johnny pitches a fit until Simon is fully seated, writhing and whining like he’s getting shot instead of fucked. Ghost just huffs, not letting the grip on his wrists slip even a little bit as his other hand holds his hips steady. 

He doesn’t go slowly, doesn’t give Soap any time to adjust before he’s fucking in and out at the speed he likes. He’s seen enough videos to know Johnny’s taken fake cocks bigger than Simon’s, had jerked his own little cock and moaned like a bitch as he rode some tentacled monstrosity a fan sent him. 

As much as Johnny is crying now, Ghost knows he needs this. He wouldn’t have left the house dressed like he was, with a plug keeping his hole stretched for any man to use if he hadn’t on some level wanted to get fucked.

But his tears shine in the low light of the alley, and Ghost has always liked it when his partners cry and get pathetic for him. He’d hardly even had to force Johnny – all those muscles gone to waste when a bigger, stronger man decided to do something with him.

So the crying, the writhing, the bitching and moaning, it only serves to make Ghost fuck him harder. He keeps Johnny pressed tight to the wall as he uses his hole, treating him like nothing more than the fleshlight he deserves to be. 

“Tighter than a virgin,” Ghost praises, pressing his cheek to Johnny’s so he can feel the tears dripping. “How’d you do that, huh? Take cocks for a living and still squeeze me like you never want me to leave?”

Johnny only answer is a sob, and Ghost hisses in his ear.

“You’re so loud, boy. ‘S like you wanna get caught.”

Johnny clenches tight on him, and it’s Simon’s turn to moan now. 

“Oh, tha’s it?” He asks, grinding himself deep so Johnny clenches rhythmically over his entire length. “‘S not enough to film your little videos, you want to put on a show in person too?”

“No,” Johnny finally manages, his first word since Simon got his cock in him. “No, no, I don’t, please don’t…”

Ghost hums like he’s deciding something, pulling out again to drive himself forward slowly, groaning at the plush heat enveloping him. “You sure? Seems a shame to let this all go to waste.” He smacks Johnny’s ass, making sure to bully the head of his cock into his prostate at the same time.

“Yes, yes, please–”

Ghost groans, throwing his head back so the sound isn’t muffled and squeezing his eyes shut at the way Johnny grips him like a vice. “Fuck, you beg so pretty, don’t you? ‘S just about all y’know how to do, huh?”

Johnny shakes his head, shivering in Ghost’s hold, and he feels himself creep that much closer to an orgasm, spine curling as he hunches over Johnny. 

“‘S all you’ve done so far,” he continues, the sound of his hips smacking Johnny’s ass loud in the alley, heart racing. “Beg for more, beg for less… can nearly beg as well as you can take a cock.”

It’s the way Johnny wails that finally throws Ghost over the edge, has his hands tightening to an almost unsafe point around Johnny’s wrists as he bucks like an animal, draining his cock inside his tight hole.

He’s glad he snuck away to jack off in the bathroom, because this orgasm leaves him nearly blind and staggering in its intensity, and he knows it would only be worse if it was his first of the night. 

He doesn’t pull out when he’s finished, even when he feels his come start to leak. Johnny’s hole twitches around him, each squeeze drawing pathetic little whines from the man’s throat. It’s nearly enough to make Simon want to go again, but he knows it’ll take a bit for him to get hard again.

His blood is still buzzing when he reaches his free hand around Johnny’s fumbling until he can wrap his fingers around Johnny’s cock. He wonders briefly if it’d been pressed against the wall, but grips him tightly anyway.

Johnny yelps at the first jerk, shoving himself back into Ghost for the first time that night and squirming. “What are ye– ah!”

“Hush,” Ghost soothes, keeping his motions steady and quick, twisting his wrist at the tip as he tugs. “You tellin’ me you don’t wanna get off?”

“I don’t– ah, shit, fuck, I can’t– please–”

Ghost hums, doesn’t bother responding, and jerks Johnny’s cock until he feels him twitch and feels the warm dribble of come on his hand. Johnny’s orgasm is short but must be overwhelming, if the way Johnny starts nearly bawling is anything to go by.

Simon shifts uncomfortably behind him once he’s milked the smaller man to full completion, unsure what to do with tears after sex. He wipes his hand on Johnny’s jeans as he tugs them up, finally releasing his wrists to button them. Johnny doesn’t make any attempt to move, just lets his arms fall limp by his sides even as Ghost tucks his own cock away and rights his clothing.

He doesn’t fully pull away, letting Johnny keep his hands but wrapping one arm around his waist and following him forward when Soap leans against the wall again, forehead pressed against it.

He gives Johnny a few minutes to recover, longer than he usually gives his partners before insisting they leave his bed. But Johnny’s not like his other partners, Simon plans to actually keep him around instead of shoving him away as soon as he drains his balls. 

So he gives Johnny a moment of post-orgasm peace, lets him think through whatever he needs to, but doesn’t give him any breathing room.

“Let’s go home,” Ghost says once his heart has returned to its regular pace, Soap still resting his entire weight against the rough brick wall.

“What?” The man croaks, accent slurring as he blinks blearily, eyes clouded with tears.

Ghost huffs a laugh, hauling Johnny back by one shoulder and keeping his arm looped around his waist, holding his weight. “You didn’t think I was gonna let you go, did you?”

Johnny’s breath shudders, and Simon feels it echo through his body. “Please…”

Ghost hums, interrupting the sound. “‘S that the only word you know?” He scoffs, pressing his nose to Johnny’s temple and breathing deeply. “You know you’re coming with me. No point in putting up a fight.”

He feels the moment Johnny gives in, tension draining from his spine like someone popped a bubble in his chest. Ghost can’t help but grin, deeply satisfied by the submission he’s forced out of Johnny. He knew the man could relax, if he let himself – though if he’s honest, he’d preferred the fight. There’s no pleasure in dominance when it comes easily.

“C’mon,” he prods, pulling them both away from the wall. “I wanna fuck you in a bed next time.”

Johnny’s whine echoes into the alley and Simon can’t help but laugh quietly as he leads them away.

[killerpancakeburger]

Sleeping Beauty Bloopers:

#1

“We shouldn't”, you mumble, looking anywhere but at him.

“Aye we can, fraternization is authorized between military and office personnel.”

That has the merit to make you look back at him, eyes wide in surprise.

“How do you..?”

“Ah checked”, he asserts like it's evident.

"You checked? What do you mean you checked?!"

Soap looks hesitant and sheepish.

"I... asked Price?"

You leap from the couch in shock and consternation, throwing your hands in the air.

"You asked WHO?!?"

"Not so loud, yer gonnae wake-"

You start pacing back and forth.

"WHAT DID YOU EVEN TELL HIM? THAT YOU WANTED TO SHAG HIS ASSISTANT?? OH MY GOD. OH MY FUCKING GOD"

#2

“Can I kiss ye? Please?” he insists, pouting.

The “please” has the effect of a punch in your sternum.

“I… you… uh.. “

His face is way too close to yours, his gaze way too intense for you to do anything else but combust on the spot."

"Ya guys still there?"

Gaz's voice makes you jump so violently, it somehow grants you the strength to send Soap tumbling down on the floor.

"Bloody- Ow!" he lets out, completely taken by surprise, his curse abruptly cut by the thud of his head bumping into the coffee table.

"Sorry!" you exclaim, feeling apologetic but mostly panicked by the view of Gaz and Ghost entering the room.

"Did you need something?"

This is your sorry attempt to change the subject.

"Just makin' sure Johnny's respectin' his bedtime for tomorrow's mission, is all." grunts Ghost.

"What did ah ever dae tae ye, L.T.?" whines Soap as he rises up from the floor, rubbing his head.

You snort despise yourself, before removing your being from the situation as fast as possible, crossing the door's treshold like a race car.

"ANYWAY GOOD NIGHT GUYS! GOOD LUCK FOR THE MISSION!"