#ghos

[dailymarvelstudios]

Ant-Man and the Wasp (2018), dir. Peyton Reed

[cholerascum]

you can tell it's me cause they put my name on the stone

[crimsonrune]

Comm - Type Specialists (Pokemon Trainer TF/TG)

Another comm set to share this week, and one to remind you all to get your swimming in whenever or wherever you can before the autumn chill REALLY sets in! This one is another collaboration with frequent friend of the page @PhantomTFLover, which we got from the talented @ThatFreakGivz some time back! As you can probably guess, we're both pretty big Pokemon fans. And that's why with this one, we decided to really get into character as a pair of Pokemon trainers. This included a couple of trainer class changes to boot, as I became a (seasonally fitting) Hex Maniac, and Phantom wound up as a Swimmer! But anyone who wants to make a name for themselves in the Pokemon League also needs to start their journey alongside a stellar partner, so it's fortunate in each respective case we have one another to fill that job as well! For me, that meant getting Phantom as a nice, powerful Gengar... for them, that means I play the part of a stunning Primarina. That all said, only one of us can come out the other end as the champion, right?

Posted using PostyBirb

[ghostiidasponk]

RAWR HEWWWOOOOOO

HIIIII :DDDD

[avidxmn]

“you can hear a woman giggling” meanwhile it’s just shane making noises 😭😭😭

[mrs-trophy-wife]

[roadkillremi]

Is the scream fandom dying off??...

I swear I'm not seeing as much Fics anymore..

[sugarybunnie]

[mar3ggiata]

professional help, c.10 preview.

simon riley x original character

abstract: hey this is Jude. you doing alright? you'd never guess who I saw! anyways, I'm almost happy in this chapter and then I'm angry again. I've been angry my whole life guys I swear. also, had a special someone with me that night, can you guess who my passenger princess was?

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs.

song to listen to when reading this: Come a little closer, Cage the elephant.

Her eyes lingered on 'The Pilgrimage' which she kept as a souvenir from her Sherlock CIA experience with the Arash case. She fished out a lighter from her bag and opened the book in front of her. She liked reading it, she enjoyed it. She had never been much of a religious person, though she was raised catholic. She respected the idea of faith, how it guided people, how it made you feel less alone. She had a thought. A tiny one. A sneaky suspicion. The little urge to lurk. It was a little lightbulb moment, a cinematic sequence in which the music stopped and then violins started playing as she began to think.

'Hop in? I need to talk to you'. Her eyes were even a prettier colour in this light. They looked translucent. Her skin was shining and golden under the sunlight. 'Can it wait?' He tried to avoid getting in the car with her. Deeply unprofessional. Where did she want to take him anyway, couldn't they talk in his office? What was it she wanted to tell him. 'I'll take you back here when we're done, just a little ride’. She wasn't giving up. Am I being fucking kidnapped by you, Jude? Most guys wouldn't really complain to be honest, but still…

She turned towards him before he had a chance to open the door. 'I'm very sorry you had to witness that, I truly am.' She blinked a few times trying to hide her embarrassment. She messed up all her chances to get him to listen to what she had found now. 'It's fine', he said. His voice was soft. His hand was on the door handle but he wouldn't open the door yet. 'Okay… I'm sorry either way I shouldn't have… done all this.'

taglist:

@ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut

@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight

@rkrivees-blog @ghosts-hoe @kam1snotverysmart @gauky76 @freyjaaasstuff @spicyspicyliving @scottpilgrimvsmyfists @courtney0-0 @shinchanboi @darling006 @my-therapist-hates-me

[inbarfink]

[mya-blazing]

Heya! I’ve finally decided to make a Discord server for all the GHOS fans out there.

I’ve seen some people asking if there’s a GHOS Discord server but unfortunately there was not so I finally made one.

I’ve always wanted to join a GHOS Discord server for years now but never existed and I had always wanted to make a Discord server for a long time now so this GHOS server should count as my first-ever made server.

Feel free if you’d like to join the server, it’s open for everyone. Enjoy ;)

Link: https://discord.gg/TfVH4Tbd

[tobiasdrake]

Orange League, Episode 6 - The Mystery of the Missing Pokemon

Next Stop: Kinkan Island/Mandarin Island, named for different types of citrus fruit. Starting to notice a theme here in the Orange Archipelago.

A mysterious phenomenon on Mandarin is causing Pokemon to turn on their Trainers and run off. Since Pikachu and Togepi aren't kept in Poke Balls, this phenomenon affects them immediately upon arrival. Team Rocket's Meowth suffers the same fate.

Officer Jenny speculates that it's some sort of Psychic-type ability, since she has with her a Gastly that remains unaffected. That's nonsense, of course; Gastly is weak to Psychic moves. A more likely culprit would be some kind of sound wave, since Normal effects pass harmlessly through Gastly.

But that's what we're going with. A real actual Team Rocket op with Butch and Cassidy running the show is underway in Mandarin, using a Drowzee rigged up to a transmitter to hypnotize any and all Pokemon in the vicinity, compelling them to come and submit to Team Rocket.

This is vicious, far beyond anything Jessie and James have ever come up with, forcing our Rockets to work together with Ash and the Mandarin police to bring them down and get everyone's Pokemon back.

Fortunately, this episode's fundamental misunderstanding of the Psychic and Gastly line relationship gives our protagonists a means to fight back - Not that it really matters, since Gastly doesn't do shit. Instead Ash, having by now grown a tolerance to being electrocuted by Pikachu, baits his mesmerized partner into destroying the mechanism.

A quick battle with Team Rocket For Real demonstrates that their Drowzee is of incredibly high level, but Butch and Cassidy are ultimately sent back to prison all the same. And, unbeknownst to everyone, Togepi hits level 7 and learns Metronome....

[shinemon311]

Join the fun of Pokémon GO! https://pokemongolive.com/refer?code=KCGG4QXP4&source=ImageShare

https://pokemongolive.com/refer?code=KCGG4QXP4&source=ImageShare

[khioneee]

simon acts as santa for your kid.

he was supposed to be the stoic, no-nonsense one. yet here he was, fully committed to the role of santa claus, going above and beyond for your child during the holiday season.

simon took the elf situation very seriously. every night after your child went to bed, he’d sneak around, setting up elaborate scenes. sometimes the elf was ‘caught’ stealing cookies from the jar, with crumbs left strategically on the counter. other times, it was perched on a stack of books with a tiny note saying, ‘reading helps santa know who’s good!’

in the mornings, he’d watch with a barely contained grin as your kid ran through the house, excitedly searching for the elf. the look of pure wonder on their face was worth every second of effort.

‘make sure santa knows what you want,’ he’d say, guiding your child to stick their wishlist on the fridge. of course, simon would ‘check it’ later, leaving behind a trail of flour dusted across the floor to mimic snowy footprints.

‘santa’s magic snow,’ he whispered to your child the next morning, pointing out the tracks. ‘he must’ve had a look last night.’

your kid’s eyes went wide, practically sparkling. ‘santa was here?!’

simon nodded solemnly, his eyes twinkling. ‘he’s keeping an eye on you.’

come christmas morning, the stocking was overflowing, filled with everything from sweets to little toys. santa went overboard this year. your child laughed in delight, and simon, trying to stay ‘in character,’ muttered, ‘guess santa thinks you’ve been extra good, huh?’

late on christmas eve, simon climbed onto the roof with a set of sleigh bells in hand. with quiet stomps and the occasional jingle, he created the illusion of santa and his reindeer making their grand departure. from the safety of their bedroom window, your child peeked out, eyes wide, whispering, ‘i hear him!’

you couldn’t help but laugh softly at simon’s commitment as he carefully climbed back down, boots crunching in the snow.

simon made sure to devour the cookies left out for santa—crumbs and all—and drained the milk, leaving behind a handwritten note:

‘thank you for the treats! keep being good, and i’ll see you next year!’

your kid squealed with joy when they found the note in the morning, clutching it like a treasure.

that night, after all the presents had been opened and the excitement had finally quieted, you found simon by the fire, still in his santa suit, looking exhausted but satisfied.

‘you really went all out,’ you whispered as you leaned over to kiss him.

simon shrugged, his face softening in the glow of the holiday lights. ‘they’ll only believe in this magic for so long,’ he murmured, brushing a hand through his hair. ‘figured i’d make it count.’

you smiled against his lips, kissing him again, the warmth of his dedication making your heart swell.

‘mommy, why are you kissing santa?’

[bunny-jpeg]

Hey bunny please can I get some Belgian waffles with a mince pie and a lemon slice with a margarita and a espresso shot (with Ghost) Ps: you’re one of the best COD smut writers fr

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i accept for all kinds of fandoms, so please don't hesitate to check it out! thank you! as for this lovely anon, thank you for the submission!

belgian waffles ("i cum in that every night.") + mince pie ("i'm not jealous.") + lemon slice ("i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making.") + margarita (unprotected sex) + espresso shot (dirty talking) served by simon "ghost" riley (call of duty)!!

cw: smut/pwp, unprotected sex, jealousy, dirty talking, possessive!simon, creampies, wife!reader, (semi)dom!reader, cowgirl position. mentions of cheesecake

simon loved his missus. oh, there was no other woman quite like you. you and simon had be married for two years now and he still hadn't got tired of you. when you laughed, he smiled. something he thought he'd never do after the life of suffering he had. he believed his heart still beat because you loved the sound of it.

you were his wife, the lovely mrs. riley. and it took years of suffering for simon to realize that if he loved something. he had to hold is close. and with you, you were the closest to him.

which was why he was a little protective over you.

"simon james riley." you said with your arms crossed, "you are the most possessive man in all of this country. hell, maybe this entire continent! and don't think a cheesecake is going to make it all up to me."

simon slumped his shoulders a little, "love, please."

you crossed your arms tighter and eyed your husband, "simon. you told my male co-worker, quote, 'i cum in that every night'. you jealous fuck!" you threw your arms up.

simon attempted to defend himself by saying, "i'm not jealous.", he was a ghost on the battlefield. he handled more dangerous missions than the average special-ops soldier. he was battled bruised and scarred. but yet, under your stern gaze, he felt very human. where most assumed that the hulking size of mister riley meant he wore the pants in the relationship, it was quite the opposite, mrs. riley was the head of the house.

"simon. please. you know that i love you more than there are drops of water in the ocean." you dropped your arms, it was impossible for you to stay mad at him forever. he was your beloved husband. you got closer to him on the couch and dropped into his wide lap and took his square jaw in your delicate hands, "there's no need to get possessive of me."

he sighed and wrapped his strong arms around you. you held onto his face and guided it to yours. you kissed him on the lips and he eagerly kissed back. when he pulled him he cuddled you closer in his grasp and said, "it's not. it's them. i've seen every shade in a man. if somethin' happened to ya, love. i'd never be the same. i'd be a real ghost then."

"then don't make me send you to the afterlife because you keep telling people how much you finish in me." you said, shaking your fist at him. it wasn't totally serious, but it also wasn't totally joking. you knew simon worried, there was a reason you had your location on all the time when you went out.

you knew your husband had seen so much hurt in the world. the kind of pain that you couldn't wrap your head around. you had seen the scars from his father, caked into his skin. jagged and rough. even though they were buried under tattoos, you could still make them out. your husband's life had been rough, so you couldn't stay mad forever.

you placed your hands on his broad chest then gripped onto the front of his well loved navy blue shirt. you leaned towards him and gave him another kiss, "thank you though." you had to admit.

he raised an eyebrow and looked at you curiously. you were about to bite his head off and now you were thanking him?

"for wanting to protect me. i know it's only second nature for you." you patted his chest before you got up from his lap. you held out your hand to him, so small compared to his, "i know you love me, simon. even when you drive me up the wall with your... brash comments." you slumped your shoulders a little, "it feels nice to know that someone out there loves me."

he got up and took your hand. his hands were so rough and dry. they were like polar bear paws compared to yours. then again most things on him were bigger compared to you. he pulled you close to him and wrapped a strong arm around your waist. he looked down at you said said, "anythin' for you, lovie. you're my wife. i made that promise to ya, and i intend to keep it. don't like liars and men who don't look after their women." then let you out of his grasp to lead you to the bedroom.

you gave him a slight push onto the bed and he was already taking his shirt off. there was something about your husband being dominant that was a turn on. but, sometimes you wanted that control. and simon was more than happy to hand it over. like as he got undressed without you even having to ask. his strong body was exposed to you from his thick tattooed arms, to his dirty blond happy trail, to thighs that could crack someone's neck. he was so physically imposing compared to you. but you held his invisible chain.

you stood there with your hands at your hips, feeling simons' gaze along your body. you asked him, "are you going to be a good boy for me, si? be the boy i know you can be."

you watched that thick neck swallow and his cock stand a full mast. you giggled, the answered your question. you felt his gaze intensify on you as you undressed. exposing your curves to the man you married. you heard him shift on your squeaky bed.

once nude, you got into bed and straddled your husband's waist. he laid back onto the bed and watched you get on top of him. your pussy rubbed against his hard cock and you let out a soft noise. but when you sank down on his impressive length, he was the one making all the noises.

"shit, love. holy fuck. shit! shit!" he groaned as he buried his hands into your hips. not enough to harm you, but enough to feel closer to you. his words were silenced by your lips, tender and sweet against his.

"i'm sorry, what was that, si? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making." you giggled, lips close to his. he could feel the jump in his pulse. you took him in for another kiss and moved your hips against his. his cock hit in all the right areas and it made him pant heavily.

his eyes could've rolled back into his head, "nothin', love. i'm sorry. i'm sorry for scarin' off your co-worker. i just, i just want to make sure you keep bein' my woman. my life."

you took a hold of his face as you moved up and down on his cock. you peppered his face with kisses as you moved, going across every scar on the flesh.

you moved against him, the friction made him see stars. oh, you were perfect. even with your size difference, you still took him so well. he was honoured in all honesty. you worked so hard, he remembered having to give you the dimensions of his cock so you could find a toy close enough to its size to practice on. while that wasn't a story told at your wedding, it did get him through a lonely two weeks in austria. knowing you were back home riding silicone to make yourself better for him (as if you weren't perfect).

he held onto your hips and let you work against him. he could feel the pounding in his chest at the sight of you. and you were the same way. you placed your hands on either side of his wide chest and moved up and down his cock.

big scary man reduced to pathetic moans and soft words by his wife's body. it would be cute if it wasn't so pathetic.

"see what happens when you're a good boy, simon? you get all this and more. your wife's pretty cunt. i know you drool for it every day. kick off those boots, get out of your mask and starting hunting to get a taste of me." you purred in his ear. it made him feel fuzzy all over.

you felt your heartbeat in your throat as you kept moving. you clutched onto the covers and really put your back into it. his cock hit so perfectly, it made you see star behinds your eyelids.

it felt so, so good. it lit a fire in you to make you two reach your orgasms. he watched your body work with him, rutting against him. it left warmth in your belly, and pooled into your limbs.

"i love you." you said.

"i love you too. fuck i love ya." he groaned as he felt the shudder of pleasure through his body.

such a rough man that would fold so easily for you. you rose and dropped your hips at a quicker pace. simon's pants were heavy as he watched you climax. as you arched your back and gasped into the air. your body went tense and it made simon finish inside of you.

cumming in your pussy settled a beast in simon's blood. that he had marked his beloved from the inside. it made a little something rise him that was settled when you slowed to a stop and rested your head against his shoulder. his cock was semi-hard and still nestled inside of you. you sighed contently.

"you are the most possessive man in this country, si."

he wrapped his arms around you as you let your bodies cool down. both breathing heavily from the after shivers of pleasure. he said softly, "yeah, love. but, only because you're my whole world. only a fuckin' idiot would lose you."

you looked up at your husband and kissed him on the lips, "well then, mister riley. i think there is an apology cheesecake in the fridge waiting for us. or at least me, since you bought it for me." it had slipped your mind earlier, but now you craved something sweet.

simon cupped your ass for a moment before he kissed you. anything for his loving missus. the woman of his life <3

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Criminal!Reader (alias Siren)

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: You've just gotten your hands on some important documents and that means payday. At least it will if you don't get caught. Too bad you're about to have a reunion and it might just be with someone that knows you well. What happens when you see that old face again, especially now that you find yourselves alone again? What lines will be crossed?

Word Count: 3.7 k

Warnings:

You’ve been found, you just don’t know it yet. Fuck. All those careful steps, all that planning, it wasn’t enough to save you this time and now you’re caught unaware. That’s the risk with the type of job you do, though you shouldn’t have stayed another night in your hideout. Of course there was nothing you could do; you were supposed to meet a potential buyer for something you had recently procured in the morning. Now, that chance is long gone.

There’s a strange sound that whizzes past your head and suddenly there’s a knife lodged in the sheetrock of the wall right behind you. You hesitate as you realize what it is and what it means, unsure of which way to head now that you are certain there is someone in the dark of the room with you and that single moment of delay is your downfall. Before you can recover and take off, heavy steps close in and a large hand wraps around your bicep to keep you in place while another joins its twin on the opposite side of your body.

You’re pushed back fast and harshly pinned to that same wall, several inches from the knife buried in it. The rough, unfinished texture tears at the leather of your jacket as you try to break free from whoever it is that has you, but no matter how hard you struggle you can’t get away. You can taste copper on your tongue now, a fresh cut on your lip from where you have bit it as you are jerked around, though the damage is hidden as your mask still holds in place across the bottom half of your face.

Blindly you try to reach for the weapon embedded somewhere to your side, a last ditch effort to help you escape, but the movement doesn’t go unnoticed and it is immediately punished. This isn’t good. 

“No ya fuckin’ don’t,” a gruff, male, thickly accented voice spits into your face as your wrists are quickly gathered in only one of those hands before your arms are wrenched above your head and secured to the wall as he retrieves his knife back. 

Your breath catches in your throat at the sound of the man’s voice and as you settle from the skirmish you immediately lock eyes with a tall soldier, his face completely covered under his headset by a black balaclava with a hard skull mask sewn onto it so that only his dark eyes are visible through the tiny opening.

“I suggest ya stop fuckin’ movin’,” your captor says plainly and with authority, but you aren’t going to listen. 

You twist your body trying to throw him off one last time. “Or what?”

Sharp, cold metal presses into your neck right against the vein that could easily end it all and you stop dead in your tracks. “I said stop movin’. Now.”

“Easy, soldier,” you say to smooth things over while you struggle to catch your breath. “You get a little too heavy with your touch there and you could make a mistake you’ll regret.” 

“Worry ‘bout yourself, Siren,” he shoots back, speaking your alias like a curse that he can’t wait to get the taste of off his tongue. “Now, let’s make this quick, shall we? Ya know why I’m fuckin’ here.”

You shake your head, feigning dumb; you need to know how much information he actually has before saying anything. “Do I? Why don’t you enlighten me.”

He pauses, but then continues. Why not? He has the upper hand anyway and this isn’t anything you don’t already know. “Word came through that ya got your hands on some very important documents. Documents that if given to the wrong people could cause some problems. So why don’t we make this quick? I’ll only ask ya once, Siren: where are they?”

You shake your head with a slight shrug of your shoulders. “No clue.”

His strong grip on your wrists tightens. “Ya expect me ta believe that? Cut the shit or this is gonna get a lot worse for ya.” 

You gasp, faking that the pain is a lot worse than it is. “C’mon now, you’re hurting me,” you say, your acting convincing to anyone, but him.

“Oh come off it,” he is quick to call out your bullshit, “we both know you can handle yourself better than that. Tell me what I wanna know. How tha fuck did ya get your hands on those documents?”

You chuckle at your failure. Oh well, it was worth a shot.  “Well…you see…I had quite the substantial incentive to come up with a plan, but that wasn’t necessary. With the right assets, anything is possible, especially where men are involved.” You puff up your chest so it pushes against his. “What do you think about my assets, hmm? It’s been a while, but you can’t have forgotten them already.”

Your eyes lock to his, those dark eyes that you are no stranger to looking into. This isn’t the first time you two have had a run-in with one another and, if by some miracle you can get away, this won’t be the last. Even within the depths of his mask, with the low light of the room, you can still see a shimmer of something flash through them as you make that first contact.

“Shut up,” he demands harshly, diverting his gaze.

“Really? Is this how it’s gonna be now?” you ask coyly. “I thought we were building a connection, you know, after all the encounters we’ve had, Simon.” 

The blade is pushed harder against your neck so that you have to swallow that last word. “Don’t ya fuckin’ say my name like that out ‘ere,” he threatens pointedly. “Or are ya tha one forgettin’ now? Don’t make me fuckin’ tell ya again.”

He’s trying to be the tough soldier you know him to be to secure the information he needs to take back with him, keeping up the tough facade with an iron will so he doesn’t lose his head because he’s put himself in a dangerous position. If he doesn’t watch himself it could be all over. He recovers quickly from your first bit of connection and everything continues on according to plan until your hip bumps up against his and this time he falters just for a second.

That second is all it takes for you to catch it. A smile spreads across your mouth that Simon can’t see beneath the fabric covering it. Good, you think to yourself as your heart skips a beat. So, he hasn’t forgotten me. Maybe you’re not out of luck just yet… There’s still one thing that can help you get away, all you have to do is get him to break the rest of the distance that’s still between you.

You just need to stall a little longer; he can never last in your presence. And yet…why isn’t your heart slowing?

“It’s nothing personal, you know,” you say as if trying to get back to the task at hand, “just business. You understand. Highest bidder gets the prize.”

The ghost-masked man huffs. “Why do ya always ‘ave to get yourself into fuckin’ trouble?”

“Why do you care?” you ask, his subtle change in tone throwing you off for a moment before you regain composure and try to play it off as a condescending bit of flirting. “Come to try and clean up my mess for me? Trying to save little ‘ol me?”

“Who said ya need savin’?” he scoffs.

Now that you’ve made the point, it’s got you thinking. No one else has come to join this reunion of yours. Did he really come here all by himself? Oh curiosity has you in its grip now. If your suspicion is true, he’s done for. 

You tilt your head to the side. “Then why are you here and not one of your other pals, hmm? Matter of fact, where’s your team? Don’t you usually come with a few more friends anyway?” You drop your voice. “…or did you come alone on purpose?”

He doesn’t answer, just stares, and that in itself feels like an answer.

“Oh, that’s not smart. Remember, we can’t be left alone. Every time we do something…happens.”

“Nothin’s gonna happen,” he returns, each word being punctuated as if he is trying to convince himself rather than you.

You make a calculated risk knowing that one wrong move puts your life in danger, but still you stand up taller on the balls of your feet to lean your face closer into his. “You sure about that? Cause you don’t sound so confident.”

You lock your pretty eyes onto his once more, your one saving grace still available at this moment, and he is struggling to contain a shuddered breath under your silent gaze because this time he can’t look away. Adrenaline is high and his body is betraying him now that he has lingered near you too long. 

Fucking hell, he thought he could control himself just long enough to get through this, but the more time this takes, the less confident he feels. Why can’t he ever seem to break this spell you have over him? He thought he was stronger than this, that the time he had purposefully avoided anything to do with you and your antics, taking different assignments while he hardened his will would make him more capable at handling this, but now that he’s here with you again it’s like all that meant nothing.

Your faces are nearly together, so close you have to wonder if he can feel the heat from your breath as you speak. “How many times are we gonna keep doing this song and dance, Simon?” you ask in a whisper, eyes drawn to where his mouth is right in front of you. This time he doesn’t reprimand you for the use of his name, but you don’t even notice. “Cause you know how this is going to end, right? It’s the same every time. We’ll fight this for as long as possible, but why when we both want it?” 

The masked lieutenant doesn’t answer, he can’t. It’s obvious that no matter how much time you are apart or at what odds you both find yourselves at now, he can’t quit you and you won’t let him go. Something draws you two together, some invisible thread that keeps you tethered. It’s toxic and eruptive and maybe there’s something more lying beneath the surface, but you both can’t deny that whatever this is, it’s electrifying and you can’t help the way it makes you come alive.

“Don’t you want me…it? Don’t you want it?” you ask, biting your tongue at your blunder; why would you say it like that? “You remember how good it feels, how hard I can make you cum. It’s been a while since we’ve fucked, don’t you miss it?”

This is just to get away, you keep repeating in your head as if it’s going to drown out the other thought lingering at the back of your mind now that your body is against his. Just so I can escape, you swallow down the words like they’ll somehow slow the rapid pounding of your heart as your body burns to feel his again. It’s nothing more than survival, you add, but this isn’t like the other times.

If this is only survival, why is every fiber of your being screaming for him to break this distance? Why can’t you think of anything else?   

You hadn’t expected him, that has to be it. It took you by surprise to see him standing there before you after all this time. Your last encounter was intense and maybe a bit of that is resurfacing now. Something about it was different even from the beginning; your soldier wasn’t as rough and you almost lost yourself in the haze of it all. Afterward you both lingered for far longer than you should have, his touch still feeling like heaven against your curves even after you came back down from the high. 

In those moments after, even though he was no longer your lover, just simply the soldier that stood between you and your paycheck, you didn’t pull away so easily. You had trained yourself to suppress all that, but in that moment you were floundering. All this time apart should have fixed it, right? 

…right?

Every capillary across Simon’s heated skin is screaming for more stimulation: from the tips of his fingers desperately gripped into your wrists to the skin on his chest under his clothes tingling from the heat of your bodies being nearly pressed together. He knows he should end this now, radio for backup and let the others take over, yet the longer he stares he knows he’s caught like prey in your trap and though he’s fully aware, he can’t stop. You are like air and he is suffocating. 

He’s fought this as long as he could, but finally the dam breaks along with his composure and all that desperation comes flooding out all at once.

“God dammit. Why do ya always ‘ave ta do this ta me?”

His face moves in quick and snares your mouth through the fabric covering both of your lips and you feel like you are primed to explode from the euphoria of all the tension breaking. The passion is so intense that you can taste it through the barrier and it takes your breath away. Pressure from the blade on your throat lessens as he immediately pushes one of his thick thighs up against your own till he’s parted through them and is pressed against your pussy through your clothes and immediately you start to grind on it.

He desperately needs to get his hands on those documents in your possession, but they are completely an afterthought as he needs something else more now, something he’s needed since the last time you two found yourselves brought together by circumstance. And if he’s honest with himself, this was the real reason he took this mission in the first place. 

The knife is off your skin and slicing up the side of your thin mask, rendering it useless as it slips from your face and falls towards the ground. Simon releases your wrists from his tight grasp and draws you back into him by a strong hand around your throat. You rip his own mask up just enough to reveal his mouth so that you both can collide once again into a suffocating kiss so rough you know the metallic taste from the cut on your lip is dancing on his tongue now too. 

Fuck, his mouth feels so familiar it hurts your heart to experience it again and before you can stop yourself you are sinking further into him, getting lost in the feel, the taste, the potency. By the way he kisses you back, as if he’s trying to devour you, you know that he is doing the same. 

And fuck do you both need more.

Your hand finds its way through the layers to get inside his clothes, your delicate palm gliding over heated skin to get a feel of remembered flesh that you don’t realize till you touch it how much you’ve yearned to feel it again. Your fingertips travel over his muscles and through the hair covering them until they brush over the outline of an old scar, a mark you gave him now healed over, but as Simon shudders under your touch and moans into you, you realize that maybe it wasn’t just your knife that got under his skin that day all that time ago. 

“Take off your fuckin’ pants,” he groans his demand against your mouth. 

You nip at his bottom lip and he inhales sharply. “Take them off yourself,” you challenge.

Simon releases your throat and it’s at that moment you have your chance, you could very easily break free from him and run, but you don’t even try. You can’t. As those strong, rough hands harshly pry off your pants and his touch burns across your flesh you feel marked. Your skin is hot under the brush of his hand and instead of shoving him away you lean your hips into his greedy movements until he finally rips the clasp open and shoves the clothing down off your legs.

There isn’t time to remove anything else as your pulses race in sync, yours matching the throbbing growing between your thighs, his complimenting the stiff peak tenting the crotch of his pants that jabs into your leg. Quickly you search by touch alone to undo his belt, the clasp, & rip down the zipper just to push his clothing down enough to pull out his cock.

You need him inside you. Now.

No words need be said, not that any could with his mouth clasped tight to yours, Simon still knows what to do. Wrapping his strong hands around your waist he lifts you up and you encircle his hips with your legs, squeezing him between your thighs to keep you secure to him as he braces you against the wall. 

Your back hits the surface with a harsh thud that makes you gasp and you throw your arms around his neck to hold on as the tip of his thick cock presses up against your pussy through your panties. Shit. In the rush you both forgot the last shred of fabric keeping you apart, but it only poses a minor setback as with a grunt Simon sharply hooks his fingers into the crotch and wrenches it to the side out of his way, aligns himself, and with a swift, hard thrust is inside you. 

You cry out as your fingernails dig into his shoulders as he keeps going till he is sunk in down to the base of his shaft, that familiar stretch divine after so fucking long, but the sound gets caught in his mouth and he is forced to swallow it down. This is it, this was what had been missing from your life, the thing that left you feeling empty that you just couldn’t seem to fill no matter what you did. Not, not just the sex, it’s him. It is Simon. 

Simon struggles to keep himself steady as the walls of your pussy flutter around him; it’s been far too long since he’s had you and all that pent up desire is ready to explode at any second if he isn’t careful. Taking a moment to calm, he is able to recover and once he starts thrusting there is no holding back and with each pass the slick grows until he’s struggling to find his rhythm with how wet and tight you are. 

He pushes himself in as far as he can, as if he cannot get deep enough, like he cannot fill your cunt full enough. Each thrust harder than the last slams into you faster & faster until there is only a haze left in your mind, until you are consumed by him and every sensation assaulting your senses: his mouth on yours, his fingertips piercing your hips, the wall roughing up your back, his cock filling you. You know your desperate plan has backfired as you moan onto his lip and the slick from your cunt starts to cling to your thighs, yet you don’t care. You need to cum.

Your mouth is burning and swollen from the friction, yet you press in harder as you match his thrusts with your own the closer you get until you feel his hand slip down between your bodies to find your clit so that he can stroke it.  

“Youre gonna fuckin’ cum for me,” he growls the words onto your lips as he presses the pad of his finger up against your clit. “C’mon sweetheart, need ta feel how your body still remembers me.”

Your release is gaining on you fast now, your body readying itself to shoot that electricity through your limbs. The pressure is overwhelming, hot and ready to blow, and with his thrusts working inside that is finally enough to make you spill. Your orgasm rockets through you with such force you nearly black out, causing you to clamp down on his cock as your entire body convulses. 

The sensation from your core is enough to cause that deep ache in him to finally find its remedy and in a roar he lets go, filling you with every ounce of cum he has to give until he too is shuddering from the strength of his release. 

Seconds, minutes, timeless? You aren’t sure how long you stay like that, connected and breathing as one being. All you can do is enjoy the sensation of him still pulsing inside you as you both come back down from the high. And yet now that the haze of lust has settled another thought is creeping in: you’re already wondering when he’s going to ask that question, the same one he asks you each time this happens.

Not the one that comes out, the one that is really asked in between the spaces in the words.  

One last kiss amongst his heavy breathing and there it is, the question rests against your lips as his forehead rests against yours. “Are ya really gonna make me ask ya again?” he questions quietly with eyes still closed. “Cause we could use someone with your skillset. And I could keep…” 

The words are plain, but there’s an almost imperceptible hint of hope in his gritty voice, something that anyone else would miss, but you aren’t just anyone. He lets the sentence die out like he always does because he can’t admit even to himself that his reasons are selfish. If you were near him, you’d be safer.

Usually your answer comes quickly, a simple no and things go back to how they always are…but this time you can’t quite seem to get it out. You pause, unsure if it’s your orgasm-fried brain or something else that’s making you falter, counting the beats of his heart through the pulsing of his cock still inside you as a way to keep the time. 

He doesn’t say anything more, just waits, but as the seconds pass you still haven’t rejected his proposition like normal. He pulls back to look into your eyes, catching that glint of something curious shimmering in the depths. Finally, you take a breath, clear your throat, and as he watches you open your mouth to speak the air around your entwined bodies seems to shift.