#the singing bone au

[bonefall]

Better Bones: CW List

Can't believe I have to make this disclaimer, but here we are

Better Bones is not a project that aims to fix canon by making the Clans wholesome and unproblematic. Though there can be fun and kindness in it and my philosophy is an optimistic one, It's not an escapist fantasy. It is a story about semi-realistic cats of human intelligence in a violent, war-obsessed theocratic dictatorship, and how they attempt to change it over the years.

Clan Culture is flawed, that is on purpose. Addressing and changing this is what the story is about.

I am very disappointed I have to state this because it should be obvious from my main post where I explicitly say that my goal is to "Address (Canon's) Problematic Elements." Not remove.

If you cannot handle themes or depictions of;

Physical and emotional abuse; Domestic, authoritative, and familial

Child abuse and inter-generational trauma

Somewhat graphic medical discussion, such as abortion, wound infection, and the use of leeches and maggots

The killing and processing of small animals into food, including tanning and butchery

Semi-realistic cat behaviors, specifically marking things with urine

Ableism; both externalized and internalized, Clan culture treats disabled cats poorly and this is something several characters struggle with

Xenophobia; to a violent degree, including stochastic terrorism, hate crime, and discrimination

^^^ read that one again. Consider that on this list twice.

Politics; Authoritarianism, fascism, and liberalism as an enemy, discussion of dog whistles and ideology

"Redemption arcs" of people who did bad things

Cosmic horror and supernatural curses

Graphic violence, including against innocent bystanders, through assault, poisoning, drowning, falling, and even being eaten alive by large fish and demigods.

Animal abuse; Human beings harming cats on purpose and Clan cats generally being terrified of all humans, even kind and loving ones

Clan cats, both villainous and culturally mislead, glorifying these things in-universe, not immediately staring at the camera and breaking character to tell you "This Is A Bad Thing!"

Then Better Bones may not be for you. I would at minimum rate this project as PG-13, but PG-16 would be a more accurate bet.

I have sympathy for you if these are not topics you can handle. My project tackles very upsetting real-world issues and not everyone is looking for something challenging; that's understandable and there's no fault in that. I try to tag appropriately but can't promise to catch everything, so please keep yourself safe.

There are other, softer projects out there run by cool people if this is not for you, and you can add #Better Bones AU to your tag filters and this project will not show up!

But, I'm not responsible for your comfort with my art. If you followed me under the assumption that BB is "Warriors without any ableism/xenophobia/violence" you were mistaken. If you don't have the maturity to act responsibly when something upsets you, or DO have the malice to read a disabled person's work with the most bad faith interpretations you can muster, LEAVE.

[elizakai]

Every time I draw or think about human Dust sans he has to be trans masc and I simply do not make the rules.

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

Being regularly but unexpectedly doused with sea water is an occupational hazard of having a Sea Monster Spouse™️ but Eclipse doesn’t mind, he just loves when ur affectionate like that. Absolutely adores u

[eeepgrove]

I honestly think the intensity of Klaus' feelings and their unwavering caliber unnerved Caroline. Pure love & affection was what she craved the most and when it finally made its way to her in the form of Klaus she didn't know what or how to process it. It overwhelmed her, it made her anxious, frightened even but beyond tempted.

Like a moth to a flame , both found themselves drawn to the light in each other.

I have thoughts beyond thoughts about Klaus and his motivations but I can say simply that he wasn't solely driven by "power" like the show tries to push but what he craved the most : love.

They're characters driven by love, born from illicit affairs , and both suffered from the ostracization of their conceptions. Yet in the face of adversity persevered to live, to be free from the cage the world tried to trap them in!

[daisychainsandbowties]

hey. hey. hey. what is fic: bones in the ocean??? 👀

oh! that’s just my davy jones au. i’m working on turning it into a narrative narrative with shape and much more detail and all the weird slimy bloody chthulu *slaps you with a tentacle* wet dripping beatrice is a Creature and she’s like… almost totally normal compared to everyone else vibes that my heart desires

so that i can post it up on ao3. but for reals this time i want to have a few chapters written first and if i post the first chapter without at least four other ones written you are allowed to repeatedly push me into the harbour

[widowshill]

burke is a dog and vicki is a dog and roger is a cat. if you care

[natemxre]

Nathan Martins aka Natemare | Deity of Wrath

Mare's life truly began only after his murder, living through greater hardships and tragedy in death than he ever knew in his brief eleven years of life.

'You can give and take

Crack my bones but my heart won’t break now

Don’t commit no crime

Find me innocent but still I serve my time'

- Bones by Natewantstobattle

NAYKT Profile | Moodboard #1

[atlas-five]

there's something deeply personal about the flesh that I can't quite describe and idk if I feel that way in part bcuz I'm trans or just bcuz I've always lived with an obsession about my physicality, but it's interesting either way.

[echo-lore]

Okay I’ve been thinking about this a lot and the idea is like- so you know how in jttw one day in heaven is one year in the earth realm (or something like that) do what if we applied that to when Monkey king left to find the map of the samadhi fire?

And during that time the earth realm became a huge war zone between Lady bone demon and her army versus Mk and his group. The only place that is not controlled over by lady bone is Megaopolis and it’s surrounding areas

Mk sides is made up pretty much anyone who was able to survive LBD attacks and Mk becomes some type of general/commander as he leads people to fights or get resources etc.

And after a couple of years (days for wukong) Mk ends up finding Monkey kid during one of their missions and he is fucking ecstatic while everyone is pissed that Monkey king left- basically the whole reason why Mk was forced to take as much responsibility as he was forced to. Which leads to Mei absolutely refusing to cooperate with Monkey King while everyone else who’s part of the rebellion against LBD just fucking hates him while Mk is just glad his back.

During this whole thing Monkey king has to deal with the fact the city and world he knew has drastically change without him noticing. He also has to deal with the fact that Mk isn’t the same kid he used to be , years on the battlefield and leadership changing him.

Bonus: Maybe macaque is on Mk side and wukong now has to deal with the fact that Mk has more trust and looks up to macaque more than he does him.

[charkyzombicorn]

What would Jinbes true form look like?

WIG OL BHALE

Really really lorge, extremely Lorge, 100m tall and 90m wide Lorge. Giant tusks but the rest are whale teefs and also catfish whiskers on his upper lip, barely humanoid, he's got as many arms as he needs and 2 glowing eyes and then if he snarls you can see all the eyes on his gums (like a clam). Eldritch Horror. He wears a kimono made of seafoam and rushing tides, whales imitate how he speaks. Very scary to humans, Fishman think he's the most gorgeous being in existence (he is)

[bear-cubs-art-things]

not to spoil anything but,,,, what if loodvigg wore a skull mask 😳

[crowsworks]

You are running from your past and meet Sun and Moon. But can you escape the troubled past you tried so hard in vain to leave behind?

[farrenlaharpie]

Dang that was so cute! I couldn't stop smiling and singing along!

Cover of Doki Doki Forever by OR3O

Big thanks to anon for the idea, and to Blair of @twoallnighters for helping me out with making it

all art and characters belong to @bonelyheartsclub

i just did the funny voices and singing

Papyrus as Sayori Boss as Natsuki Rus as Yuri Stretch as Monika

[evilgwrl]

TF 141 x Reader (Apocalypse!AU)

Immune: Five

WARNING: This is a 18+ Poly!141 series (MDNI)

CW: Oral sex (f), PIV (no protection but he pulls out sadly), mating press, orgasm denial, Price talks u through it, the others listen in on you having sex ;)

Note: sorry this chapter is a little late <33

Masterlist

You could feel his heat furnacing around you, the tickle of his chest hair against the midst of your spine, coiling into your skin. His body was flush against your bare one, the sweet, arrogant smell of him, the overwhelming acknowledgment of authority he placed on you as a rough hand caressed your waist, fingers digging into the bone of your hip as calloused hands dragged you closer.

He felt like an animal. The salty tang of your heat, surging through his taste buds still, providing him with the craving for another taste of your skin, the sopping flesh you presented so delicately to him last night. Your body yielded against his, ass flush against his erection as a supple whine left your throat.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. His body communicated for him, rutting his hips against yours lazily, the thin fabric of his boxers concealing nothing as you lifted your leg slightly. He fit like a puzzle piece, crotch against yours, slick wet patch scenting your vulva, claiming you before the others could. After all, he was still their Captain.

Your voice was groggy as your hand fell over his own, gently squeezing it. “Is this your plan to wake me up?”

“Is it working?” His tone was sickly sweet, laced with arousal as he ground up against you like a horny teenager. His bulge was painful now, practically singing out for release as your slick drenched his briefs. His hands were everywhere, desperate fingers reaching up to tug gently at your hardened nipples eliciting a gentle moan from your lips.

You turned around to face him, your leg hooking over his waist as you took in the delicate facial hair that adorned his cheeks, your heat clenching around nothing as you remembered the tasteful burn of it scratching against your thighs last night, the muscles in his tongue working you to orgasms before you fell asleep flush against him.

You were almost embarrassed when he leaned it to kiss you, squealing over morning breath before you felt him rock against you harder, tongue slithering against your own as he practically groaned in need.

“Gotta feel you ‘round me, sweetheart. That ok?” His voice was rugged, oozing out desperation as he palmed himself, the gentle motions of your nod fuelling him as he kissed you again.

It was no doubt that the others were miffed, heavy erections tenting their pants as they leaned in to listen to the taboo sounds of their Captain coaxing the girl they had only met to bliss.

His hands were heavy as they wrapped one around your throat, the other lacing between your thighs, teasing your sensitive bead as you whined, his lips now trailing across your chest as he sucked a pebbled bud into his mouth, teeth grazing as your hips bucked forward, chasing friction.

His tone was sharp, “Patience.”

You stilled your movements, looking down at him as he kissed down your stomach, beard grazing against your tender flesh. You gasped, loudly, as you felt him press a kiss against your clit before his hands were crashing down to the plushness of your thighs, holding them apart as he devoured the taste of your arousal.

It was a slow torture, his tongue lapping against your clit, slurping up everything he could as you whined about cumming before he pulled away, beard drenched in your juices as you choked on air, pussy pulsing with demand. “I was so close,” you practically spit, eyebrows creased together in confusion.

“I’m sorry baby,” he merely said, his voice holding no sincerity, “But I gotta feel you cum around my cock.”

You looked down at his length, the tip of his cock evident through the material, pre-cum soaking the fabric. Thick fingers teased your entrance, working quickly to break you open as your head moulded into the pillows, teeth biting down on the fabric as you mewled.

His lips were against yours in a grazing heat, coaxing you open as the scent of you both filled the air, possessive growls leaving his lips. “P-Please, I need you inside me.” Your tone was wet and wanton, the squelch of your slick almost humiliating loud as he pulled his fingers on, digits spreading your wetness against your lips before dipping them inside your mouth.

You sucked feverishly, a heavy grunt leaving his lips in satisfaction. Price watched your gaze lower to his crotch, his balls heavy as he pulled his boxers down, revealing the angry member, tip flushed red as beads of pre-cum pearled.

Your finger swiped across it, a rough hiss leaving his throat as you tasted it on your mouth, mixing the taste of him with the taste of you. It was so dirty, sin seeping through the walls as you choked out a moan when the head of his cock grazed your folds, rubbing against you.

Price was a sweating mess, his body moulding into a sight of desperation as his cock poked at your sopping entrance. The stretch was painful as he pushed in, molten lava surging through you as you pushed against his chest, your mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as you gasped.

“You can take it baby,” he groaned, “relax for me,” as he held your legs apart, bending your knees back into your chest as he worked his massive erection into the gummy walls of your cunt, soft heat fluttering against the tip of his cock.

You were practically screaming now, the pain and pleasure burning through you as he bottomed out, your pussy stretched to the brim as he relaxed there for a second, the tightness of your pussy squeezing him like a vice as he stuttered out a grunt.

Downstairs, Soap and Gaz were practically ballistic, angry hands gripping metal cutlery that began to deform under their grip at the desperate cries of your mouth and pussy. Ghost had to excuse himself, wandering off deep into the forest as he battered your bow and arrow against a bunny that he would bring home to eat.

Price’s hips began to rock, tears forming in your eyes instantly as his cock surged against your sweet spot, instant ecstasy melting you into his touch as you whined and moaned pathetically.

“That’s it baby, so fucking tight around me hm? Never gonna get enough of this pussy,” he choked out, hips slapping against yours as his balls spanked the flesh of your ass.

Your knees were still up to your chest, his body pressed against yours as the length of his member forced you to feel everything. The squelch of your wetness mixed with the desperation of your sounds were a God send, his pace almost animalistic as he forced whatever he could hear out of your dry throat.

You were a series of expletives as you babbled incoherently, his deep voice talking you through it.

“Look at how well you take my cock,” he would say.

“Pussy is fucking made - shit - for me.”

“Never felt something this tight.”

Your moans were degrading as the coil in your stomach formed, tears welling in your eyes as you sobbed at the pleasure. “F-fuck,” you squeaked as your hands gripped the back of his head, his thumb pressing down against your clit as he worked you through your orgasm, oversensitive shrieks leaving your throat as he chased his own high.

The slaps of your skin littered the room, the scent of sex wafting through the air as Price grunted, fingernails gripping into your thighs. “Jesus fuck,” he choked before your pussy felt the absence of his cock, rough hands jerking himself quickly before you felt the splatter of his cum against your belly, soft jerks of his own hand milking his silk against your skin.

You whined, knees clicking as he let them go, collapsing next to you in a pant as a sweaty hand rubbed your thigh comfortingly.

He rubbed his hands against his face, laughing softly. “Jesus Christ,” he panted, “You okay?”

You nodded, your head curling into his chest as you laid there breathlessly for a second. It wasn’t long before he was carrying you into the shower, your legs like jelly as he washed you off, using the minimal amount of hot water you had before drenching his salty skin in the cold.

The horniness wore off as you took in your reflection, deep stains of red and purple littering your neck as you remembered his desperate need to claim you. “Price!” You screeched, pointing at your neck as he chuckled.

“I’m sorry to break it to you honey but they heard you a lot earlier than they would see you.”

Humiliation ran through, but you wouldn’t deny the gentle throb of your heat at the thought of the others palming their cocks in jealousy, jerking their thick lengths to the sound and thought of you. Your legs pushed together before you felt Price’s warmth against your back, hands coiling around your stomach before a gentle kiss was bestowed upon the crook of your neck.

Your feet gently padded down the stairs, wet hair wrapped into a bun as your legs gently wobbled, slight ache in your cunt. You were greeted by Soap, cocky smile on his face as he took in your figure.

“Morning Lass, doing well?”

You rolled your eyes with a gentle smile as you walked past him onto the couch. “Have you eaten?” You asked, voice soft as he nodded, grabbing your hand before he gently removed the bandage, a soft wince running through you before he placed a kiss against the barely-visible wound.

Soap was gentle as he held onto your hand, staring at you before moving, walking to the wooden fridge before he cracked open a water bottle, handing it to you.

“Need all the hydration you can get after all those sounds you made,” he bashfully said as you blushed, “Ay’ nearly killed me listening to you, don’t know how I’m gonna feel when it’s me making you sound like that.”

[starry-bi-sky]

a half-ghost--? no- no wait, that's a changeling. that's even worse.

so i'd like to preface this by saying this stems from me going entirely off the rails thinking about tales of the passerine-- which is frankly quite on brand for me to think of one au, and then develop it so far left ways that it makes another au entirely.

bUT. Context! Danny's ancestors sometime before they immigrated to America had a fae marry into the family. This had its Side Effects. Naturally. The Fentonnightengale responsible for this charmed a fae thanks to their swagless nature and awkward demeanor, so instead of getting eaten the fae thought it was cute instead. The fae marrying into the family had an affinity for music, but that kinda repressed itself by accident -- blame the salem witch trials.

By the time Danny is born, the fae blood has become so latent that it really doesn't show up anymore other than the Fentons Eccentricity and obsession with the supernatural (a latent desire to return home to the fae realm - aka infinite realms). There's an unnatural charm surrounding the fenton that really only creeps almost every human within a visual radius, and Danny is no exception.

hoWEVEr. the accident that turned danny into a halfa in one timeline did no such thing in this one -- it just reactivated his latent fae blood, and reactivated it with a fervor. Effectively turning Danny from a human into a changeling.

Danny just thinks at first that he's a half-ghost -- only to realize later on from Clockwork that he's not one at all. He's very much fae -- which is a wild discovery for Danny to make. It also means his rogues are quite a bit more intimidated by him. Fae are above ghosts in the Infinite Realm Creature Hierarchy, no matter how powerful they are. A fae can still Steal the name of a ghost, so Danny's rogues are rather skittish/unsure around Danny until they realize he doesn't know he's a changeling -- after that, many of them vow to try and keep it secret amongst themselves.

Danny's 'ghost' form is rather birdlike, and in human form his appearance warps to match his comfortability. When he's alone with his friends he starts taking on unnatural features. -- his blue-green eyes brighten and his pupils elongate, his teeth sharpen, and his ears grow longer and animal-like. His hair softens to be more feathery, his nails sharpen. In general he takes on more 'bird-ish' features. At school, around his parents, and when he's stressed, tense, or scared, he looks completely human -- an instinctual survival mechanism.

As a ghost, he has large, pretty wings that gradient from black to dark purple-blue, with a shimmer across the feathers that resembles the aurora borealis. His limbs elongate, his legs becoming bird-like and his talons grow on both his feet and nails. His ears vaguely resemble a rabbit's, although they don't flop down like one. All his teeth sharpen. Razor sharp chompers, capable of biting through bone. His eyes take on a greenish-hue, but otherwise remain the same color, albeit his sclera becomes blue-ish and his pupils become diamond-shaped and white. Rings of seafoam blue circle around his iris, creating a reflective sheen. He makes chirping, creaking noises, and when he speaks there's a faint overlap that is very enchanting.

Overall he's rather beautiful in a terrifyingly inhuman way, its hard to take your eyes off him. He has a lot of feathers. He's very drawn to singing and music in general, and gets into music sometime after his accident. He likes flutes/ocarinas/woodwinds the most, followed shortly after by strings, and then piano. He also slowly loses the ability to lie -- which is really annoying and also terrifying until he learns how to reword himself and become a better wordsmith.

SInce this stemmed from an older brother dpdc au, its gonna stay an older brother dpdc au alsfh. i'll just get to the dpxdc part in another post since i wanted to get this off my chest first

[ceilidho]

prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 4; ghoap x reader) masterlist tags: dubcon/noncon, nsfw

-

Much of Ghost’s behaviour is reactive. Oddly passive for the assumptions people often make of him. He doesn’t run from trouble, but certainly he doesn’t seek it out. Aside from a few rare deviations from the norm (running his father out of the city at eighteen, not breaking enough bones to count as restitution, and finally leaving home to enlist), that remains the rule. 

The way Johnny mopes for days after parading his bird around base has Ghost nearly rolling his eyes, already exasperated. He should’ve known his puppy wouldn’t share well. 

It’s worse than he expected though. Johnny mopes for a week straight after the fact, hardly able to meet Ghost’s eyes in briefings. He stares straight down at the floor pathetically, dragging his feet behind him when he’s dismissed. Price notices it right away, raising an eyebrow at Ghost after Johnny leaves the room. 

“Trouble in paradise?” he asks, leaning back in his chair, hands folded over his stomach.

“In the dog house, I reckon. His girl’s pissed at him.”

“Your doing?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, sir,” Ghost replies smoothly, face giving away nothing.

Price is hardly convinced. “I’m sure. Nothing to do with you.”

Ghost doesn’t answer that. He waits until he’s dismissed and then takes off down the same hall Johnny just left, curious about wherever his boy’s slunk off to. 

He can’t help the latent sadistic streak in him that curls up in pleasure at the sight of Johnny pouting and squirming whenever he walks into the room. Still, his attitude will need to be rectified soon enough—there’s only so much Ghost will tolerate, only so much disrespect he’ll turn a blind eye to. One day Johnny will look back and reflect on this, and appreciate the extent of Ghost’s magnanimity. 

Still, he doesn’t enjoy being ignored. One week bleeds into the beating heart of the next and Ghost realizes that he’s had enough of the silent treatment. He’s given Johnny more than enough time to come to terms with their new situation. 

He tracks him down to the armoury on a Monday evening after most of the other soldiers have already left for the day, back home or eating supper in the mess hall. It’s empty apart from the two of them, and when Johnny finally notices his presence in the room, his eyes widen almost imperceptibly. He doesn’t flinch at least. Good boy. He’s gotten better at being less reactive, less shaky about being caught off guard. 

“Done for the day, sergeant?” He keeps it light to start, taking a step closer. 

Johnny tenses at the approach. “Yes, sir.” The title would usually satisfy on its own, but it comes strained, polite but removed. 

“Where’d you come from?”

“Layouts and gunners training, sir.”

On any other day, Johnny’s deference might come as a lovely note to end the day on, but not today. It rankles now, the edge of his voice sweetened by a kind of silent dismissal, not giving any more information than what’s required of him. Nothing like the boy who used to open his mouth and sing the world back to him. Ghost has earned his every thought. 

“We have a problem, Soap?”

“No, sir,” Johnny grumbles, still not meeting his eyes. His mouth barely moves when he says the words, teeth all but grit. 

No dealing with this temper tantrum like adults then. For all Johnny must carp and bitch to himself about the hardships that Ghost has put him through, he seems to have no desire to actually deal with the problem. That’s too bad. It would’ve been easy enough to talk it out like grown men.

They’ll have to come to terms some other way.

“Come. We’re fixing this attitude of yours now,” Ghost grunts, turning before Johnny has the opportunity to complain and marching down the hall towards the gym. 

He hears Johnny make a sound like an angry bull before following him down the hall. The loud footfalls against the tile floor betray his simmering anger; it reveals to Ghost what he already knew intuitively. His boy still needs to learn to play well with others. 

In time, this anger will fade into the ether, replaced by Johnny’s old doggish need to please Ghost, but it’s causing too many problems now to be tolerated. He hasn’t gotten to see the bird since the week before. Doesn’t even have a photo of his own to look at when he rubs one out. It would be less aggravating if Johnny were willing to spread his legs and let Ghost rut between his thighs, but they aren’t there yet.

The gym is empty as it usually is around early evening when Ghost opens the door, the lights off from whoever last used it. Johnny follows him sullenly, dragging his feet about it. Ghost’s eye ticks at the show of attitude persisting into this space.

“Lock it behind you,” Ghost says without looking back at him, crossing to where the mats are on the other side of the gym. 

Neither of them are dressed to spar, still clad in their fatigues, but his blood cranks up to boiling when he turns around to watch as Johnny crosses the room angrily, picking up steam now as well. He comes in hot, not even bothering to suss out Ghost’s first move before launching himself at him. 

Ghost staggers back a step at the hit, but he takes it in stride, shifting his weight and using Johnny’s momentum to throw him off, sending him sprawling. He’s quick to get back to his feet, but that moment of carelessness gives Ghost everything he needs. The next time Johnny throws himself at him, Ghost lets him get an arm around his leg and nearly grins to himself when he feels Johnny put all his weight into trying to flip him. 

He knows strength isn’t everything, but there’s something to be said about the several inches and even more kilos he has on Johnny. That plus a decade’s worth of experience. Sparring devolves into a sweat-slicked grapple, Johnny’s shirt coming untucked and rucked up, his hair mussed. He tries to go for the mask, eyes gleaming with a wet, savage glint—forgetting decorum or tact, and just going for the most underhanded maneuver. 

He pays for it when Ghost takes him hard to the floor, catching him with a leg sweep that he might’ve been able to avoid if he were fighting with a clear mind. Anger makes him sloppy though. 

“Fuckin’ bastard—” Johnny grunts when he hits the floor, narrowly avoiding clipping his chin against the mat. 

“Folks never married, so guess you’re right,” Ghost remarks, unbothered. Hardly winded even, only the lightest sheen of sweat on his brow, obscured by the mask. 

His sudden divulgence makes Johnny falter. So rarely does Ghost open even a crack that the momentary honesty catches him off guard, giving Ghost the opportunity to wrangle him into a tight hold. 

Pinning Johnny isn’t an easy task because the kid fights dirty when he feels cornered. Lashes out wildly with his fists when Ghost gets an arm around his neck and holds him in place, less precise than when he’s coolheaded, but still brutal, all raw strength packed behind his punches. He twists Johnny over onto his stomach when the boy tries to buck him off, slamming him down hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

“Gonna tell me what’s got you all riled up now?” Ghost asks, twisting Johnny’s arms behind his back to pin him in place. 

He struggles in Ghost’s hold, trying to find a weak point. The search is fruitless. Ghost’s body weighs him down like a boulder pinning him flush to a dirt-streaked mountainside, forcing the air out of his lungs when he presses down harder. 

“Ye cannae just take her from me—” he spits out, face flushed. He kicks out a foot, trying to free himself, but all Ghost does is shift slightly to press his shin to Johnny’s calf, holding it down. “I told ye she was different and ye had to—and now she willnae even fuckin’ talk to me. Barely texts me, willnae answer my calls. I cannae—I can’…” 

His voice trails off on a hitch. Not quite a sob, but a frustrated, wretched sound. 

“Held that in for a while, didn’t ya?” Ghost murmurs, holding Johnny down with ease when he struggles again, trying to wrench his arms out of Ghost’s hold. 

“I almost fuckin’—almost just fuckin’ gave her to ye,” Johnny says, shame thick in his voice. “Thought maybe it wouldnae be worth…jus’ dinnae want a girl coming between us. But she’s—I told ye, Lt, she’s special, I cannae jus’—I cannae jus’ let her go. And now she doesnae want anythin’ to do with me.”

Ghost doesn’t bother pointing out the absurdity of that statement. As if Johnny could give him something that’s already his. 

“Not trying to steal your bird, Johnny.” He taps Johnny’s cheek, a little reprimand. It makes him blink and scrunch up his nose. “What’d be the point of that?”

He forgets how young Johnny is sometimes, just now nearing the end of his twenties. Still wet behind the ears, all blood flushed and pink cheeked. Green still to the realities of the world and Ghost’s presence in his life (permanent, fixed; unchanging). 

There isn’t a version of him that wants someone who doesn’t also want Johnny. Inconceivable. After everything that they’ve been through together, the root of him and what he wants is inextricably tied with what Johnny wants—at times, Ghost almost wishes he could live inside his head, just a constant stream of Johnny’s thoughts into his. 

Johnny twists his head enough to glare over his shoulder at Ghost. “The fuck are ye on about? Ye grabbed her ass in front of God ‘n everyone, for Christ’s sake. Said your intentions loud ‘n clear.”

“‘Course I did. She’s got a nice arse, doesn’t she?”

“You’re really startin’ to fuck with my head, Ghost, I dinnae understand what ye—”

“You keep running your mouth off about trying to take the girl from you—I don’t need to take anything.” He stresses the word to be clear, forcing Johnny back down when he tries to buck Ghost off again. This time he stays in place, both calves pinned down to the mat, cheek pressed into the fabric when Ghost slots a hand into the scruff of his mohawk, forcing his head down. “Quit struggling—you’re not getting back up. We’re sorting this shit out now so you quit moping around base and giving me a fuckin’ headache.”

“Stop exaggerating—I havenae even opened my mouth around ye in days. I’m no’ doing anything to your head—”

“How the fuck am I supposed to think when you keep running away?”

The air hangs heavy in the wake of his words, the oxygen all but sucked out of the room. 

“The two of you are mine,” Ghost says in a low, harsh voice, the sound making Johnny flinch against the mat. “I’m not asking for just one of you. You’re out of your fuckin’ mind if you think I’d leave you out of this, mutt.”

He’d sooner lose them both, but that’s another scenario that he’d never tolerate. 

With some effort, Ghost tips Johnny over onto his back, holding him down before he can start to struggle again. He keeps his wrists trapped behind his back, forcing Johnny to arch his back off the floor, presenting himself. From his vantage point, it’s easy for Ghost to flick his gaze down and find Johnny’s dick pressed hard against the zipper of his pants, all plumped up from being pinned to the ground. 

“Good, you’re already hard,” Ghost grunts approvingly, rolling his hips down to alleviate some of the pressure building up in his groin. “Haven’t come since she left the other week, I bet.”

Panic flares red hot in Johnny’s eyes, widening when Ghost settles deeper between his legs, his own hard cock unmistakable. “Wait—wait, Ghost—I’m no’—I’m no’—”

It would be a stretch to say that anything softens in him, but a part of Ghost does feel for the boy. He’s been around Johnny long enough to know his persuasion—strictly women with the occasional appreciative glances towards some men. An appreciation he relegates to furtive, guilty glances, holding it inside of him like a nasty secret that he’ll never part with. Too riddled with Catholic guilt and the ease of just playing it straight. 

Ghost has no intention of making it easy on him though. 

He tries to imagine what it might be like if he were on the other end, but for him it’s only ever been cunts and Johnny and the bird. Now just the latter two hold any weight. 

His protests only last as long as it takes Ghost to unfasten their belts and zippers, fishing Johnny’s cock out first. The second his rough hand wraps around Johnny’s length, the words die on the boy’s lips, replaced by a choked off grunt. His balls are full enough to corroborate Ghost’s words—he probably hasn’t come since seeing his girl off the other day, too frustrated and upset to jack off, the ducts shut, working himself up into a frothy mess only for it to slip right out of his hands at the last second. 

Johnny’s eyes roll back when Ghost grips both their cocks in his fist, slicking his hand up with Johnny’s precome. Sweat sluices down the sides of his neck. He looks good with his tongue tied up in knots, thoughts emptying out through his ears in rivulets. 

Even with Ghost’s hand as big as it is, he can’t wrap it all the way around the two of them. Johnny’s come provides a nice glide though, lubricating the underside of his shaft when Ghost grinds up into his fist. 

It spurs him into a kind of ​​protolithic fervour, desperate only to come. The iron rich scent of blood and sweat makes Ghost salivate, eyes drawn to the tender skin of his neck, the flush now riding high, up and over his cheekbones. Lips bitten red, also swollen with blood. In a better mood, Ghost might indulge him, might roll up his mask and lick into the wet mouth hanging open deliciously, teasing him, but there’ll be time for that later. 

He slurs out Ghost’s name when he comes, Simon ripped from his lips like it was dug clean out of his soul. His come splatters across his belly and shirt in thin, watery spurts, the wind knocked out of him again. 

Johnny squirms when Ghost doesn’t let go of their cocks, hand still dragging up and down, mumbling that he’s too sensitive, fuck, lemme go, I cannae—

“I’ll stroke your cock and grab the bird’s ass whenever I feel like it,” Ghost growls down at him, at the end of his patience now. He pants out a ragged breath when his cock throbs at a particularly whorish moan dropping broken from Johnny’s mouth. “I’ll nut in her cunt and make you lick it out if I want. And you’ll fuckin’ thank me for giving you a taste.”

Johnny almost goes nonverbal at that, a leg trying to kick out weakly even though it’s still pinned down under Ghost’s heavy thigh. His dick twitches against Ghost’s, a valiant effort. 

When Ghost comes, it settles in a thick, viscous mess across Johnny’s stomach, pooling around his belly button. It radiates hot down his back, the ache in his lower spine abating momentarily. Can only imagine how much better it would feel balls deep in Johnny’s ass or the bird’s pussy, a wet warmth clutching him tight, legs wrapped around his waist to drag him closer. 

He’ll have that soon enough.

A ragged wheeze is pulled from Johnny’s chest when Ghost drags his cock through it, spreading it over his stomach. It’s worse when Ghost dips his fingers into the mess, a sticky blend of both their come, before bringing his fingers up to Johnny’s mouth, forcing them past his lips and over his teeth and gums. Johnny sputters at the taste, going cross-eyed to look down at Ghost’s hand. 

There’s no time for pillowtalk or soft words though. Even if there were, niceties come out of Ghost’s mouth like a ring of smoke. Still, the thought of the bird not returning Johnny’s calls or texts makes him bristle, his annoyance renewed. His own disinclination to communicate aside—a waste of words as far as Ghost’s concerned, he says more with his actions anyway—none of this works if the girl won’t talk it out. 

Probably pent up, the stubborn thing. He’ll have to sort that out too. It keeps him young at least. 

“C’mon, Johnny,” Ghost says, rising to his feet. He dusts his hands off on his fatigues as if nothing happened, then holds out a hand for Johnny to grab. “Let’s go see our bird.”