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

[gold0kapi]

[shotmrmiller]

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

o.

my.

god.

yesysyeesyeyseyes

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

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

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

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

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

Damn. It must be Soap's wife.

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

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

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

"Let me in, pet."

Oh, so he can speak in a neutral tone.

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

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

"Look at me," he mutters.

He's definitely cornered you.

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

That starts the waterworks.

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

"I've never hated you."

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

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

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

And his cheeks are flush, with life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He's about to come.

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

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

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

How could you say no to that?

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

"I love you."

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

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

"You didn't finish," he asserts.

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

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

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

You climax to his words.

"I love you too."

--

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

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

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

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

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

And he's never letting you go.

[rqgnarok]

standing ovation - jamie tartt

fandom: ted lasso

wc: 2321

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

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

author’s note at the end!

There’s something in the air.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The thought only makes him smile.

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

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

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

“I did see me mum.”

“How is my favorite Tartt?” she teases.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smirks cockily. “Unbelievable?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s nothin’–”

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

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

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

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

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

A beat. Then–

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

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

_________

precious little jamiebaby i hope i did you justice ily

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

a reminder that commissions and asks are open!

<3

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

[heartfullofleeches]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[grippingbeskar]

coming home - simon ‘ghost’ riley

— simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

— warnings - adult content minors dni (18+) mxf, ghost has a filthy mouth, praise kink (?), pretty soft compared to all the ghost s*** out there tbh, slight description of injury and mentions of death. kinda sad ghost but he fucks it out :)

a/n: i have fallen down the ghost hole. just wanted some domestic shit, also the shower description is just something i want in my dream home so it’s self indulgent as fuck! hope you enjoy. xx (also shout-out to @dinahmadanimybeloved for the lil nudge in the right direction!! i appreciate u. xx)

He’s quiet, and that’s how you know somethings off. Most people think it’s just the way he is, being able to count on one hand the amount of words he’s spoken to them over the years. Ghost doesn’t talk unless he has to, or unless he gives enough of a fuck about whoever’s talking to him, which is rare these days. He could go hours without talking when he was away, a fact that always broke your heart a little.

The truth is, you can never get him to shut up. When he’s home, he’ll talk your ear off about anything. The dog he ran past that morning, the way you should organise your socks, how good you looked wearing his shirt. He was talkative, which is how you knew that something was wrong when he came home this time.

Being the biggest guy you knew, it amazed you how he could walk with such stealth. Even the floorboards seemed scared to creak under his frame as he came through the door. You shot up, nearly flying over the back of the couch. He wasn’t due home for another two weeks— you knew because you were supposed to pick him up from the airport. He was home early, and of course you were ecstatic, but then you saw his face, still covered in that bone white mask, and you knew it wasn’t all good news.

“Simon.” You whisper as you walk towards him. He’d closed the door behind him, locking it, but hadn’t moved from there. Usually you were both bursting with energy when he came home, excitement and adrenaline pumping through your bodies at the long awaited reunion. He was looking down at you, and when you finally stood close enough, one of his hands came up, gingerly cupping your face. “You’re home!”

“Hey, baby.” He says slowly, eyes holding yours. The hand he had behind his back touched your side, and you looked down, seeing about a dozen roses in a bouquet, stalks fisted in his gloved hand. “Got ‘em for you.”

“They’re gorgeous. Here—“ You take them, letting the sweet smell fill your senses and move quickly to put them in a vase on the counter— a spot reserved for whenever Simon brought you flowers. It seemed to be a constant thing, and it never failed to have you feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. “I love them. Thank-you.”

“‘Course.” The tone of his voice only confirms your suspicions about something being off, and it has your heart dropping through the floor.

“You should of told me you were coming home. I would of come picked you up!” You smile up at him, trying to gage where his mood is.

“Finished early. Thought I’d surprise you.” His hands come back to your face, holding your head up at the perfect angle. There was a significant height difference between you, so you were in a constant state of looking up at him.

“Did everything go… good?” You ask tentatively. He’d told you some of the things he’s done over there with the 141, but you always try not to pry. You know it’s brutal, and he sees the worst of the world, so when he trusts you with something, you take it to the grave. When he doesn’t, you don’t ask.

“No. Nothing did.” He says, still holding your face up to his. You bend up on your toes, pressing a soft kiss to the nose of his mask. “I just needed to see you.”

“I’m glad you’re home.” Your arms wrap around his back, pulling him closer. You press your face into his chest, sinking into the feeling of him being home. After so long, it never gets any easier. Watching him leave, never really knowing when he’d be back. If he was safe. “You want something to eat? I can make dinner.”

He shakes his head, gently pulling your face back from his chest. When your hands snake up his front, he just watches you. He hadn’t even changed out of his clothes— still had that black paint smudged across his eyes. He must of gotten straight on a plane after whatever he was doing had come to an abrupt end. Your fingertips brush his jaw, the bottom of his mask, and when you go to pull it up over his mouth and nose, he doesn’t stop you.

“Can I take it off?” You check, feeling how stiff he is under your hands. He nods once, and tilts his head, allowing you to pull it all the way off. “There you are.”

“I missed you.” He says simply, but the words pack such a punch when he looks like this. To an outsider he’s hard at nails, sharp and pointy and dangerous to get close to, but you see him under the paint and the body armour. “Missed you so fucking bad, baby.”

“Prove it.” You see a flash of his teeth, just the smallest hint of a smile, and your stomach does a backflip because it feels like a win. Then, he leans in, kissing you softly, with the care he would hold broken glass— hands guiding you forward and up, thumbs tracing gently along your cheek bones.

You sigh, nearly melting into his body. Your hands wrap around his neck, toying with the short hair that he’d cut while he was away. You always have to fix it for him when he comes home— he just hacks away at any hair hanging out of his mask, mostly getting frustrated and buzzing it off until he can get you to cut it again. When your fingertips scrape lightly along his skull, he groans into your mouth.

“Fuck.” He mutters as you catch his bottom lip between your teeth, careful to only apply a little bit of pressure. You were sure he was covered in enough painful marks as it was— you didn’t want to add to it. He leans down further, chasing your mouth, foreheads pressing together.

“You wanna talk about it?” He shakes his head then dips down, kissing your jaw, nose nudging you to the side to get better access to your neck. Your breathe hitches and you sigh his name, him smiling in response against your skin. You can feel the black smudge of his face paint slowly covering your own, like a trail of all the places he’s touched you.

“I only wanna hear you sayin’ my name like that. Don’t want to think about—“ You say his name again, drowning out the thoughts of whatever happened over there. That wasn’t now— he was here, and safe, and if he needed to be distracted, that’s exactly what you would give him.

“Need you to wash this paint off first.” You murmur, your voice a little lower than normal, making him almost shudder. You drop your hands from his neck, letting them fall slowly between your bodies before you loop your fingers in his belt buckle, walking backwards. “You’ll get me all dirty.”

“I would’a thought you’d like that.” He grabs a handful of your ass, nearly making you trip over as you step back, but he catches you easily and picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. He presses his paint covered face to yours, kissing your nose and face wherever he can reach, and you can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous you must look now, covered in smears of black.

“I do. Just want an excuse to see you naked.” You taunt in his ear as he finally reaches the shower and flicks it on, still fully clothed. “You buzzed your hair again.”

“You know I can’t do it right without you.” He puts you down, quickly ripping off his own shirt before reaching for the hem of yours.

He’s slower with it, the fabric brushing against your sides, giving you goosebumps. It doesn’t matter how many times you take your shirt off in front of him, he always looks just as dazed as he did the first time, and you always get just as nervous.

“You’re so fucking perfect, baby. Come ‘ere.”

He pulls you fully under the stream of the shower. It’s one of your favourite places in your shared house— a giant shower head that let the water fall as fine as rain, with enough space for his giant body not to have to bend at awkward angles to wash his hair (when he had some). It was also well big enough for the both of you, a feature you both utilised every morning and night you spent together.

He works at your shorts next, easily slipping you out of the now wet cotton, leaving you just in a set of underwear. They weren’t particularly cute— like you said, you would normally dress up for him to come home, but he wasn’t due for two weeks. Simon didn’t seem to mind, hands running wildly over your body, eyes on fire. You were starting to see him clearer now, the paint running off his face and down his bare chest in shadowed droplets.

“God, Simon…” You lean back just an inch, seeing the new marks on his chest and shoulder. A new bullet wound in the right arm. A gash that extends all the way up his left side. It still looked like it was healing— the stitches must of only come out a few days ago.

“I’m okay.” He says, kissing your collarbone.

“I don’t like when you get hurt.” You whimper, feeling his strong hands grab your hips, pushing your underwear down. “Are you sure—“

“Let me take your mind off it.” He leans down further, kissing your chest, and then drops completely, landing on his knees in front of you. He was so tall that he still needed to bend lower to kiss his way down, feeling his lips press softly on your hip bones, then your stomach. “Look at you. Such a pretty girl.”

He taps your inner thigh with two fingers, a silent command. You follow, spreading your legs slightly. He’s not satisfied, hooking one leg over his shoulder while the other is pinned between him and the wall. At this point you weren’t even holding yourself up— the display of brute strength making your head feel fuzzy.

“Dreamt about this.” He kisses closer, skin that hasn’t been touched in weeks nearly sparking under his manipulation. “Out on base. Couldn’t keep this pussy out of my head.”

“Simon, please.” You beg shamelessly. You have no pride when it comes to him, not when he’s holding you like this, reducing you to putty in his hands before he’s even really touched you.

“Never leaving this house again.” His words nearly get lost between your thighs. You arch your back to encourage him, but he holds you flat. “Gonna keep you here forever. Right here, just like this.”

“Simon.”

“You’d let me, wouldn’t you? You’d say my name all pretty like that and let me do whatever I wanted.” You were nodding furiously, hands finding little purchase in his short hair but it was all you could do to get him closer— “Want you to ride my face. Give me everything you’ve got.”

“Okay, please… please just—“

“What, baby?”

“Fucking touch me, Simon. Please.” You know he doesn’t respond to bad manners, so you throw as many around as you can. He smiles between your legs, kissing your thigh once more before you lose sight of his now clean face, burying himself in your pussy. “Fuck!”

He’s no stranger to eating you out— he always tells you how much he loves it, like it’s a reward for him. He always makes you see stars, too, but right now, the way he’s practically taking you apart from the middle out, it wasn’t like anything you’ve felt before. He keeps one hand on your hip, pinning you under him, the other slipping a finger inside of you, working in perfect tandem with his mouth.

You can’t decide what it is, but fuck— maybe it’s the water, how soft it falls on the both of you, combined with the overwhelming feeling of having Simon back early and safe— it was having a physical affect on you. Weak knees that were taking none of your weight in them, choked gasps of his name— your eyes roll back in your head before long, hips bucking wildly against his hold as your whole body shudders with pleasure.

“God— so fucking good for me, princess.” He says, taking a second to pull back and admire how strung out you look before diving back into you. His gaze never leaves you then, watching as your face contorts with every glide of his tongue over your clit, or how every time he moves his hand just right your whole body jolts. He seeks it out again and again, and you can feel him smiling underneath you, watching you writhe as liquid heat spreads all the way through your veins, carrying pleasure to every nerve ending you had.

It was an entire body experience, and you couldn’t even keep your eyes open anymore. You let him get rougher, at some point hooking your other leg over his shoulder, so you were completely suspended in the air. Your thighs clamped around his head, trapping him in position as you neared your high, and Simon only gripped you tighter, his hands kneading the flesh of your ass. He held you hard, in a way that you knew would leave the good kind of bruise, and the image only sky rocketed your state.

“Don’t stop, Si. Fuck— you’re so good, so fucking good, I… ah—“ You cut yourself off when he groans— really groans into you, and you feel him switch gears at the praise. He must like hearing it, how good he is at this. How good he makes you feel. While you still have the ability to talk, you keep going— anything to get him not to stop. “You feel so good, Simon. Gonna make me c— oh fuck, right there.”

You feel the stretch of two of his thick fingers, easing you open, and you know it’s out of your control. There’s an electric feeling in your stomach you don’t recognise, bordering on too much of a good thing. You almost don���t want to fall into it, but Simon, with his talented hands and mouth that’s never satiated, you wouldn’t get much of a choice. Your brain couldn’t move your legs anymore, only able to blank out and take it— take all of what Simon was so desperate to give you, and who were you not to indulge your man?

“C’mon, princess. Let me see you… just let go. Want it so bad, pretty girl.” The pet names, his tongue lapping at your sensitive nerves, his fingers curling inside of you— there was no way to avoid the plummet into overwhelming pleasure, Simons hands being the only thing holding you to the real world.

You cum with a choke of his name, and a string of indiscernible words babble out of your mouth. You hear Simon saying something, but it sounds so far off, your only focus on that feeling. He doesn’t stop, still buried inside of you as close as he can, and he doesn’t let up until your physically clawing at him, flinching away from the lap of his tongue.

You feel wrung out— like you’d just been suffocated and were slowly coming back to consciousness. It was possible you really did pass out, if you were honest. Simon was still holding you up easily, hands now holding your thighs to his shoulders, eyes wide and staring at you in fascination.

“Holy fuck, baby. That was fucking… you are so hot.” Out of breath and energy you manage to burst out laughing at his compliment, feeling yourself slowly sliding down the wall of the shower. Everything felt like jelly, but as Simon bent down to kiss you, your hand brushed against his boxers, and you tugged at them. “Yeah? You want me to fuck you now, baby?”

“Mmm.” You hum, body still twitching from the aftershocks of the biggest orgasm of your life. You tug harder at the seam of his boxers, and he kisses your forehead.

“Shh. Take a minute.” Your eyebrows furrow together, feeling a little juvenile in your fuzzy state.

“Please, Si. I’ve waited so long for this. Please, just…” You slip the fabric over his cock, already hard and waiting, and duck your hand under to stroke him gently. He swears, shuddering under your soft touch. “Don’t make me wait.”

“Turn around, princess.” He breathes, and you smile victoriously, getting another laugh out of him. “Fuckin’ insatiable.”

“Only for you.” He helps you get onto all fours, rough palms of his hands smoothing over your ass and lower back.

“Mhmm. Mine, aren’t you?” You nod, feeling him lean down to kiss your shoulder blades before you feel his cock, sliding between your legs and settling at your entrance. He gives you a second or two— it always takes you a while to adjust to the pure size of him when he gets home. You’d never say it, but you hope you never get used to it. A bit of pain with the pleasure he rings from you seems a fair trade for all the dirty things he says when he finally enters you.

You push back against him, making him hiss as a little more of his length disappears into you. He lightly smacks your ass just once and you arch into the touch. He’s never been one to throw you around, not wanting to even think about the possibility of hurting the one good thing he has in this life— but he can’t help but be memorised by the way you react when he treats you a little tougher. He does it again, and hearing your moan is apparently the last thing he needs to bottom out behind you.

You both sigh— finally feeling each other this way. There was something to be said about the first fuck when he came home. It was so much more than that. It was like something from a movie, how they called it making ‘love’. You’d always thought it one and the same— until you met Simon. He starts slow, purposeful as he drove his hips back and forth in a pace that had you feeling dizzy after just a few thrusts. He was so strong without even knowing, you had to smack your hand to the wall to keep from sliding away every-time his hips collided with yours. He hit spots inside of you you never knew you had until you met him, and it was borderline embarrassing how quickly you felt that ball of pleasure in your stomach tighten— preparing for release.

“So tight. Always t-take me so fuckin’ good. Jesus Christ.” Hearing Simon Riley stumble over his words was the ego boost of the century.

“Just like that, Si. Fuck.” You feel one of his hands sliding up higher, touching any part of you he could reach— hands brushing over your side, your tits, reaching up to tangle in your hair. When he pulls slightly it has you squeezing your eyes shut, the combination of his touch all over you making you dizzy.

He starts to come back to himself, talking constantly as he drives his hips harder and faster. Constant praises come out in a low, raspy voice, only interrupted by you chorusing them back to him. It had always been like this with him, the filter between his brain and mouth broken as soon as he got inside you, leading to a string of compliments too dirty to repeat anywhere else— but it was the hottest fucking thing in the world to you.

“C-can’t last much longer, princess. S’feels too good.” He slurs, and you look over your shoulder. His shoulders are completely relaxed, jaw slack and eyes half open, and there’s none of that stiffness from before when he came home. Now, he was in his element, not thinking about whatever went wrong on the outside— he was just here with you.

“Fuck, gonna cum, Simon— just a little m-fuck.” You didn’t have to tell him, he knows your body better than you do, and when his hand slips under your hips so that he can circle your clit in soft, quick movements, your arms drop out from under you as pleasure overwhelms you. This time, you’re pretty sure you do pass out, the only thing you can hold onto in that in-between is Simons voice.

“There it is. Fuck—yes… yes. Fuck!” He swears the whole way through as he cums, and you feel him pull out at the last second, warmth spreading over your ass and lower back. You try to pick yourself up, giving him a pretty picture, but your body is so weak that you just stay right where he puts you. His free hand grips your waist, keeping the backs of your thighs pressed to the front of his.

The water was still running a warm stream over the both of you, and when Simon’s orgasm wrings out the last few jolts of pleasure, he’s just as fucked out as you are. All but collapsing over the top of you, he keeps himself up with one arm, the other wrapping underneath both your bodies. He kisses along the back of your shoulder blades, murmuring praise into your skin.

“Baby… baby. Missed you.” He repeats, and you turn your head, finding the strength to hold yourself up a little to kiss him. Once he knows your starting to come back, he switches positions, using the arm underneath you to hold you to him as he leans himself against the wall of the shower, your back tucked to his chest.

“Missed you more.” You look up, finding him staring down at you. He smiles then, and your still a little dazed but he just looks so good when he smiles— “I love you.”

“I love you.” He repeats.

It might just be the heat of what you just did mixed with the warm stream of water above you, but you swear he blushes. No matter how many times you say it to each other, he still reacts like that. You both sit in silence for a little, your body now tired and slumping against him, held up by his arms wrapped around your middle, holding you tightly.

“You scared me a little, when you came home.” You say softly, your hands tracing along his forearm. “I never know how to make it all okay— I can’t make it okay.”

“You just gotta be here. That’s all I need.” His head dips to lean down, leaning on your shoulder.

“I will be. Always.” You say, never meaning anything more. It’s been years of you knowing Simon, just a little less than that being his, but you know this is it for you. Even when you first met him, you knew you’d always be there when he came home— waiting for him.

“We… we lost some good people this time. Just makes me think.” He hugs you closer, feeling his hands splay out in your sides. “This guy got caught in the crossfire, I don’t know what happened, but I watched them tell his girlfriend. She just lost it.”

You swallow hard, hearing his voice crack.

“The boys said they found her photo in his wallet. A ring, too. Was gonna propose.”

“Jesus.” He nods, head still firmly tucked into the crook of your neck. “I’m so sorry.”

“I had to get out, come home for a bit after this one. I don’t want… there’s so much stuff I need to do, stuff I want to tell you about, and if I didn’t make it back—“

“Don’t think like that. You’ll always come home. You promised me you would.” Your throat tightens, trying your best not to cry at a time like this. You couldn’t help it when he spoke like that.

“I know, baby. I just mean…” He takes in a long breath, then looks up, tilting your head so he could look you in the eye. “I don’t wanna leave here without you knowing how much I— that I…”

“I know.” You let your fingertips drag softly along his jaw, but he shakes his head.

“No, I… fuck— I’m sorry.” You sit up, a little worried about where this is going. His hands leave your waist, holding your face in the same gentle way he did when he came home. “It just… you deserve so much, and I want to give it to you. The whole flight over— longer than that, I’ve been thinking about asking you something. I just don’t know how.”

“You can ask me anything.” Kneeling between his legs, your hands press to his chest, feeling the racing of his heart. You lean forward, kissing him, telling him all the words you can’t fit into the moment. Whatever he takes from it seems to be enough— because as well as he knew you, you knew him too. He pulls away, and when he does, you don’t see any traces of the man people seem to fear, or hate.

You just see him.

You nearly hold your breath in anticipation, watching as his eyes flit between your mouth and your eyes.

“Simon.” You say again, and his eyes flutter closed. Then he pulls you forward, and utters two words that shift your entire world on its axis.

“Marry me.”

[lundenloves]

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

pretty please thank u ma'am ily bye💞

i got u! 🚫 kids hcs

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

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

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

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

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

Takes up all the space in bed.

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

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

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

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

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

He’s a tender wee soul, really.

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

Stingy. As. Fuck.

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

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

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

[mustainegf]

Soooo I had an idea about a kirk late 80s smut ...

Where he and the reader go to the cinema and watch a lame horror movie and kirk gets bored so he fingers the reader and when the movie finishes they fuck in the backseat of his car .

How are you guys so good at coming up with this stuff..? This is literally amazing, I hope I did it justice!

The movie flickered our bored faces. Kirk was so excited to see this new movie. It turned out to be another horror wanna-be. Briefly-it sucked.

I could tell Kirk was bummed, he wouldn't stop sighing. He did that pretty often whenever his mood soured.

Suddenly, there was a warmth on my thigh. I glanced down to see Kirk's hand gently squeezing, his thumb rubbing against the fabric of my pants.

The touch made me shiver with heat. I knew he wanted to get handsy. He always did. But even he knew he was pushing it.

I decided to let him do whatever, I knew he would keep it PG. At least I hoped.

I did my best to focus on the movie, but his hand was inching further up, snaking around to my inner thigh.

I gazed over at Kirk, he looked completely calm, watching the movie with a smirk on his pretty lips.

"Kirk." I whispered, afraid we may get caught.

Kirk complied, removing his hand. But just as I turned my gaze back to the screen, his slender hand slipped into my leggings.

"Jesus," I murmured, trying to keep my voice low.

My eyes darted around looking for anyone who may notice what we were doing. We weren't alone in the theater, although most of the seats were empty.

"Stay quiet for me, yeah?" Kirk instructed under his breath. He ghosted his fingers over my panties, applying the softest bit of pressure he could.

He didn't even have to tell me to keep my eyes on the movie. I knew the drill. "Spread your legs." His voice was low and thick. My core tensed at his words. I did what he said, slightly nudging my thighs apart.

He pulled my panties aside, the cool air hitting my teased heat.

His fingertip slid across my clit, causing me to gasp. "Shhhh," he whispered, his finger tracing my center again. He pushed two fingers inside me, eliciting a whimper from me.

He moved them in and out slowly, rubbing his thumb against my swollen bundle of nerves. A few minutes passed like this, him fucking me with his fingers while the movie played.

"K-kirk..." I breathed, quickly checking to see if anybody could see what he was doing.

He was far too good with his fingers, I had to fight not to moan out loud. His fingers were perfect, continuously curling at the exact right moment.

"Good job..." he watched my face tense and try to stay calm and keep my composure.

I could hardly take it, he knew exactly how to hit every spot.

"Kirk, stop," I turned to him, my breath labored.

Kirk pulled his fingers out of me, resting his hand as he looked at me. "What's wrong baby?" He asked softly.

"Can we go to the car?" I asked hastily.

He nodded, quickly pulling his hand from under my leggings, gathering up all of his things before standing up. Just as I stood up, kirk leaned to whisper in my ear. "I'm gonna ruin you," he snickered darkly, sucking off his fingers that were once inside me.

Kirk shut the door to the backseat of his car, my legs wrapping around him with need.

Kirk started kissing me, starting on my neck then moving to my mouth. His tongue entered my mouth, the taste of his saliva mixed with mine. Our tongues tangled together, exploring each other.

I reached between us, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down his legs. I took his hard cock in my hand, stroking it up and down. I couldn't help but look at him. "Mh-" he groaned loudly at the sudden feeling, his head falling back.

He pulled my top up and off, kissing me hungrily as he trailed his way down my body, licking and kissing every inch of skin he could.

Kirk slid my panties to the side, replacing my hand on his cock with his own. I whined, wrapping my arms around his neck and melting into him.

"Lie back, Angel," he whispered huskily. My chest pressed to his as I sat on him, my head falling in the crook of his neck.

"Please put it in kirk," I whispered, my vision blurred by his curly hair.

"Hold still, pretty," he groaned, gripping my hip and pushing me down onto his erection. "Fuck!" I cried, stretching to accommodate his size.

He thrust forward, filling me completely. His lips brushed against my neck, his breathing heavy. Kirk held me there for a second, letting me adjust.

"You're so fucking tight for me," he groaned. He smiled down at me, flashing his adorable crooked teeth. He was such a cutie.

Sometimes it was hard to believe how he could get during sex based on his outside appearance.

Kirk began to wriggle his hips, filling me over and over.

“Mmh.. oh Kirk.." I whined, softly tugging his hair.

I imagined when he fingered me in the theater, how easily we could ve been caught, how good it felt to take that risk.

The car was bouncing slightly as Kirk bucked his hips upward, the windows beginning to fog.

"That's it," he murmured. I had to admit, this was far better than the shitty vampire movie we had once been watching.

"Talk to me, baby. I wanna hear that pretty voice." Kirk heaved.

I turned my head to the side, catching sight of our reflection in the window. Kirk looked so damn good. So handsome.

"Don't make me say it again," Kirk continued, his voice desperate and lustful.

"It's so-oh, so good!" I threw my head back with a groan. "I'm yours.." I huffed softly.

His thrusts quickened, I wouldn't be surprised if he'd bruised my insides. Kirk's mouth found its way to my breasts, sucking blooming purple marks.

He didn't stop, marking my chest with nips and love marks, kissing each hickey.

Whimpers spilled from his pinkish lips, I knew he was close.

It wasn't much longer until I came, both of us about to lose control. "Fuck, come on... come on..." he grunted, nearly blacking out with need.

"Yes! Yes!" he yelled as he released himself inside of me. His cum filled me, shooting deep inside my core. I clenched around him, squeezing him tighter. "So perfect," he sighed as he slowly withdrew from me.

I tried not to let my body give in, knowing I needed to pull myself together. Kirk looked down at me, his eyes passionate. He ran his knuckles along my jaw, caressing my cheeks gently. "God, you are so perfect..."

he said tenderly. I relaxed in his arms, cuddling to his warm chest. A small part of me wanted to just stay there forever, never going home.

Kirk chuckled softly, pushing a few stray curls out of his face. "Look what you've done to me," I giggled, peering down at my reddened and bruised chest and breasts.

Kirk laughed, running his fingers over his love bites. "They suit you," he raised his brows, flashing that dorky smile that I loved so much.

"And they'll be gone in a few days," he continued.

"Then I'll give you more," he giggled, giving me a quick peck.

[ficbookshelf]

Yours, Eternally

OKAY this is the first fic I've written in like 5 years

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, marking kink, non-human ghouls (lmk if i should add anything)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I can feel you staring at me.” Sunshine’s voice jolts you from your jumbled thoughts. She looks at you with a raised brow.

“Ok, I’ve been curious about this for a while now,” you say. “Why do you and Aether have bite marks on your necks?” Sunshine smiles fondly and brings a hand up to the scar at the base of her neck. “These are bond marks. They show that Aether and I are bonded as mates for all eternity,” she explains. You nod, subconsciously bringing a hand up to your own neck. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just need to talk to Mountain.” You get up and make your way to the room you share with the earth ghoul. The sound of water running echoes from the en suite. You sit on the bed with a sigh, pulling out your phone while you wait for Mountain to finish his shower. 

“Hey, love, I didn’t hear you come in.” Steam rolls out of the bathroom. Mountain emerges in sweatpants, his chest still damp. You have to stop yourself from staring.

“Mountain, have you been avoiding my neck?” You ask abruptly. He jolts at the question. “I was just talking to Sunshine and she told me about the bond marks,” you continue in his silence. 

“My love, I have to stop myself from marking you whenever I’m around you,” Mountain sighs and sits next to you on the bed. His tail curls around your calf.

“But I want you to mark me, Mountain. I want to show that I’m yours.” You take his hand in yours.

“I can’t do that to you. When a ghoul marks a human, that human’s soul is damned.” Mountain forces you to meet his gaze. “Your soul will go to Hell if I mark you.”

“Would you be able to find me?”

“What?” You roll your eyes.

“If I’m in Hell, would you still  be able to find me?” Mountain furrows his eyebrows.

“Yes, but-”

“Then do it. I understand the consequences, but I need to know that I’ll always be yours,” you urge. Mountain brings a hand up to your cheek. 

“Are you absolutely sure?” He whispers, searching your eyes for any sign of hesitation. You nod. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Mountain, please mark me.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, he pushes you down onto the mattress. His pupils are blown wide, the black nearly covering the deep green.

“I am going to ruin you, sweetheart.” Mountain kisses you hungrily, leaving no room between your bodies. One hand props the tall ghoul over you, the other trails down your side to grip your hip. His tail squeezes at your thigh.

“Arms up.” He breaks the kiss just long enough to get your shirt over your head. His tongue glides along yours as he quickly shoves your leggings off of you. Mountain’s sweatpants join the pile of clothes on the floor. You see his cock straining against the material of his boxers. 

“Mountain, please,” you whine. 

“Please what, sweetheart?” You feel his smirk against the column of your neck. You pout and squirm in his hold. His fingers dance along the edge of your panties.

“Touch me, please, fucking touch me.” His fingers finally find your clit over the cotton of your underwear. He rubs slow circles and uses the other hand to unclasp your bra. You whine into his ear and arch into him impatiently. 

“How bad do you need me right now?” Mountain ghosts his hand over your throat, the other drawing slow, relentless circles on your clit. You buck your hips toward him, but he pulls his hand away. “Answer me.”

“Need you so bad, Mountain. Please, need you to fuck me. Need you to fill me up,” you babble. The drummer gives you a quick peck before ripping your panties off. His mouth now so close to where you need him.

“You’ll have to cum on my tongue if you want to cum on my cock,” he teases you before licking a slow stripe up your cunt. You moan and squeeze your eyes shut. “Look at me.” You struggle to open your eyes and meet his gaze. His lips seal around your clit while staring into your eyes. 

“You’re so wet for me, love. Is all this from the thought of me marking you?” Mountain pushes a finger into you, groaning as you clench around the digit. You nod fervently, urging him to keep going. His lips find your clit again, slowly thrusting his finger into you. 

“Fuck, Mountain.” You grip one of his horns in your hand. He chuckles, the sound sending vibrations through you. “More, please, need more.” He eases a second finger into you. He curls them inside you, brushing against that spot that you could never reach on your own. You can feel your orgasm fast approaching.

“You gonna cum for me? Already? I’ve barely even started with you, sweetheart,” Mountain teases from against your pussy. 

“‘M so close.” You squeeze your thighs around Mountain’s head. 

“Go ahead, sweetheart. You can cum.” He sucks harshly on your clit, sending you over the edge. A cry leaves your lips and your back arches off the bed. Mountain continues to thrust his fingers into you, helping you ride out your high. He presses heavy kisses to your jaw, working his way back to your mouth.

“Mountain-”

“I know, sweetheart. I know,” he hushes you with a gentle peck. He pulls his hand away from you, shoving his boxers down just enough to free his aching cock. He strokes the base and lines himself up to you. You moan as he begins slowly pushing into you. No matter how many times you take him, the stretch always takes a minute to get used to. He pauses as the head of his cock brushes your cervix.

“Move, Mountain. Please move,” you whine and dig your nails into his biceps. He growls out a low fuck and pulls out to just the tip before slamming back into you. You cry out as the ghoul sets a slow but brutal pace. Neither of you are going to last long at this rate. 

“This what you wanted, sweetheart? Wanted me to mark you up, fill you with my cum?” Mountain’s fingers dig into your hip and thigh. He’s normally careful not to be too rough with you, given his tall stature. You like the change.

“Yes, fuck,” you were breathless at this point. “Please, I wanna be yours. Mark me. Please breed me.” 

“Shit, you would look so pretty carrying my kit.” Mountain began nipping at the juncture of your throat and shoulder. “Gonna cum soon, sweetheart. You ready?”

“Yes yes yes yes,” you chant, mind going numb from the pleasure. Mountain’s fangs dig into your skin while his cock pulses and spills his cum deep inside you. The feeling sends you abruptly into your second orgasm of the night. Mountain’s thrusts still, and he releases his hold on your neck. He licks over the wound, soothing the slight sting.

“Mountain?” He hums in response, refusing to tear his eyes from the new mark on your skin. “Should I bite you, too?” He snickers.

“Your bite mark wouldn’t have the same effect as mine, but you can if you want to.” You pout at him and tug him down towards you. Since you don’t have fangs, it takes more force to draw blood. However, after a minute you are content with the mark that you leave on him.

“Let me get us cleaned up, love.” Mountain gently urges after pulling out. You were both sweating, you had cum dripping down your thighs, and his neck was still bleeding. You didn’t care. 

“Stay here for a little bit, first,” you protest. Mountain sighs and allows you to wrap your arms around his neck. You fall asleep to the sound of purring in your ear.

[bigguyenthusiast]

Somno with ghost ;P

Pairing: ghost x fem reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“W..Simon?”

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

[gloomiebearwritings]

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

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

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

Thanks ♡˖꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱♡˖꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know 141 are our brothers-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[under-the-dirt]

Hi :3

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

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

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

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean by that?”

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

“You won’t hurt me, Simon.”

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

“I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[litgwritersroom]

You guys are doing wonders to my brain lol love you guys soooo much!

Could I ask for a completely warranted Finn and MC smut after the whole Kat and Alfie thing? Pretty pretty please!

FINNOCENT

S5 | Finn/MC | 3200+ | @mrsbsmooth

Everyone in the villa treats Erin like dirt. Alfie & Kat are the final straw. It's not fair, and Finn's fucking had enough. NSFW

Finn unbuttoned his shirt, his chat with Erin still swirling around his head. Kat had laughed when he’d flirted with Erin, telling everyone about the sex dream. She’d laughed whenever he cracked on with anyone. But for some reason, when it came to Arlo, Kat always seemed to get mad. 

What was it about her?

God, he’d picked Kat over Erin in the first place because he’d thought she’d be more ‘cool’ with his flirting, but that was quickly becoming not the case. One would think that being cheated on would make you hyper-vigilant about your boyfriend flirting with other girls, but Erin was the chillest girl he’d ever met. Her constant pranks were the highlight of his day, making him fall over himself in laughter at how thoroughly she committed to them. He had badly misjudged her, and now, he was paying for it, Kat’s shrill screams still ringing in his ears.

He finished unbuttoning his shirt, and pulled it off just as Erin burst in from the roof terrace.

Her eyes were wide, her chest heaving, even paler than usual. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Erin.” he chuckled. 

She shook her head. “I’ve… Finn.”

Finn furrowed his brow, and made his way over to her, placing his hands gently on her arms to steady her. “It’s fine, darlin’. I know I’m hot with my shirt off, but you’ve never gotten this flabbergasted before.”

He grinned at her, trying to calm her down, but she shook her head. 

“Kat and Alfie. Snogging each other. More than. His hand was down her–”

“Ha,” he scoffed. “Right. ‘Course they were.”

Erin took his face in her hands, and looked into his eyes. “It’s not a prank, babe. I’m being serious. I just walked in on them.”

His eyes flickered to her lips, and he saw her jaw shaking. He knew she was a fabulous actress, and she’d tricked him many times before, her incredible ability to convince him of anything not even half to do with the fact he had an enormous crush on her.

A flash of panic went through his heart at admitting it, but he cleared his throat. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe her, he certainly believed that that’s what she thought she saw. But she was wrong. She had to be wrong. 

“Erin, neither Alf nor Kat would do that to us. I’m sure it’s all a big misun…”

Alfie interrupted as he burst through the door after Erin, his face plastered with guilt and hot pink lipstick, looking like he was about to be sick. 

“Erin, baby, please, it’s not what it looks like.”

Erin’s head whipped around, and she pointed a single finger at him, making him cower and damn near sink to his knees. “Fuck you, Alfie. I know what I fucking saw.”

“Baby,” Alfie gasped, his eyes almost watering. “It just happened, I’m so sorry. Please. Please.”

Finn’s mouth fell open, and he looked at Alfie. “Holy shit, man. You’re a really good actor.”

Alfie looked between him and Erin, confused. “I’m not acting, Erin, please, I promise, I’ll make this right.”

“After all your bullshit about going slow,” Erin spat. “I fucked you yesterday, and today you’re knuckle-deep in Kat’s cunt behind my back. You are trash, Alfie. You can fucking go to hell.”

Finn’s eyebrows shot up, and he almost laughed. “Jeez, Erin, I’ve gotta watch your show. This is–”

“It’s not a prank, Finn,” she begged, her eyes full of tears. “I need you to trust me.”

Even if she was acting, he couldn't leave her standing like this. His Finn-stincts kicked in, and he pulled her in to him, wrapping his arms around her as she breathed heavily into his chest. His head whipped to Alfie, and he looked at him, confused. 

“Alf… no way?”

Alfie’s jaw quivered, and his eyes dropped to the floor. “I’m so sorry, man.”

Finn’s heart was beating a million miles a minute. “Gotta say, I didn’t see that coming.”

Alfie suddenly kicked into gear, trying desperately to explain himself to Erin, as she just turned her body away from him, pulling herself tighter into Finn. 

Finn found himself getting progressively angrier, as Alfie spurted excuse after excuse, blaming Suresh, then blaming Finn, then blaming Arlo, then blaming Erin herself, accusing her of cracking on to Suresh behind his back. He couldn’t believe Alfie didn’t just take some fucking responsibility. Acknowledge he’d hurt her. Fucking apologise. He knew it probably had something to do with him having the softest of soft spots for Erin, but frankly, he was disgusted. 

Erin said nothing, just hugged him, as Finn ran his fingers through her hair in long, gentle strokes to calm her.

Finally, Kat graced them with her presence, caring far less than Alfie did about convincing anyone of her innocence, and he felt one final moment of affection for her for that. Alfie grasped at his final straw, telling them that Kat had been the one to initiate everything, and the two of them bickered back and forth. Finn could barely believe it. Once again, Erin had been painted the villain, despite doing everything right. It suddenly washed over him how unbelievably cruel the entire villa had been to Erin, and she'd taken it in her stride, her chin up, a smile on her face, as she tried to hide how deeply she was hurting.

But he could see it. He looked down at her, her face buried in his chest, arms wrapped around his waist like he was the only person she knew would always be on her side.

Well, it was about time he showed her how right she was.

Alfie and Kat were so distracted by their argument, that Finn was able to take Erin’s hand and walk right past them without either of them even noticing. He led her away from everyone, down to the only place he knew they’d get any actual privacy. A small, empty storeroom that the camera crew used to throw extra cables in. He pulled her in, flicking the light on, and locking the door behind him.

“There. It’s just us now,” he soothed. “You’re okay, Beour.”

She looked like she was going to cry, but she swallowed it back, shaking her head. 

“Thank you, babe,” she sighed. “I must say, a part of me knew he’d do something like this. He’s just that fucking immature.”

“Well, gotta say, I kinda expected it from Kat, too,” he chuckled. “I guess that’s what we get for not sticking to our own age group.”

Erin chuckled, and threw her arms around him again, pulling herself close to him. “I hate you a little bit for not believing me right away.”

“D’you blame me?” he chuckled. “Your acting’s too good. Shouldn’t have cried wolf so many times. But you asked me to trust you, and I did.”

He felt a smile tugging at Erin’s face, and she laughed a little. “I know. And thank you for that. It… It means a lot.”

"You know I can't say no to you." Finn smoothed her hair, and kissed her affectionately on the head. “But we do need a safeword for pranks.”

Erin laughed louder, and she pulled back, smiling up at him. “God, you’re seriously the perfect guy, you know that?”

“I do, Beour. I absolutely do. You don’t get an ego like this being mediocre, now, do you?”

She shook her head, and sighed heavily, settling back into his arms. God, it felt so incredible to hold her like this, her beautiful soft skin under his hands, the fabric of her beautiful dress so foreign under his fingers. He wished he could take her out of it. Could run his hands over her entire body. 

He pictured her breasts in his hands, the soft curve of her ass in his palms. How the soft skin of her thighs would feel as he teased them with his lips. He could feel himself starting to harden, and he thought about shifting it away from her, but Erin only pressed more firmly against him.  

“Can I ask you something?” she whispered.

“You just did,” a shit-eating grin on his face. 

She rolled her eyes, and flicked his arm with her fingers. “I’m serious, for once.”

“Alright, one question. Maybe two, if I feel like it.”

Erin paused for a moment. “Why didn’t you pick me?”

Finn smiled as he pulled back, gazing down at her to make sure she was serious. She was; a rare moment of vulnerability that begged him to give it to her straight. 

He sighed. “I thought Kat would be the less jealous of the two of you.”  

Erin snorted with laughter, and he joined her, grinning. 

“I know. God, couldn't have been more wrong, right? But with your cheating ex being here, you can see how I… anyway. Now I know that you’re not like that, but I didn’t at first. I judged you. Wrongly.”

Erin nodded, but she paused again, as if pondering a question with a very different implication. His heart picked up, and within a minute it was beating so fast he was sure she’d be able to feel it, letting the silence linger as he waited for her to ask the second question. 

Erin took a deep breath, and he readied himself, only for her to exhale again. He stroked his fingers down her back, tracing them slowly back up to her neck, as he threaded his fingers into her hair. 

Silently begging her to ask it. 

“Do you regret it?” she whispered. 

His fingers were twisted in her hair, but he released it, tracing his fingers along her jawline as he tilted her face toward his.

He drew her gaze, falling headfirst into her deep brown eyes. He leaned in closer, the feel of her soft breath on his lips like a whisper from her body to his. 

“Every. Single. Day.”

No sooner had the words left his lips, did she have hers pressed to his. Erin’s hands were in his hair, and his dropped to her waist, pulling her against him as she grasped handfuls of him. He’d kissed her twice already in the villa, but in that moment, it felt like they’d been waiting a lifetime to do it.

The feel of Erin’s body against his was like a high voltage shock, the electricity making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, willing to die for the feeling as she sent him into a desperate rhythm of tongues and lips. God, have mercy, she was undeniable to him. In that moment, he realised how deeply obsessed with her he truly was. He wanted her. Needed her. He was burning up at the thought of her. She dragged her teeth along his bottom lip, pulling him into her, and he groaned with delight as she used the distraction to drop her hand to his belt. 

“Whaddya say to a bit of payback?” she whispered, running her hand down the front of his rapidly tightening trousers. 

“Don’t get mad, get even?” he chuckled. 

“Mmm. But getting even’s not gonna cut it.”

He groaned, and dropped his lips to her neck, licking and kissing at the sensitive spots he found. She was jolting under his hands, responding to his every move as she spread her legs, grinding herself against him as she moaned. 

Finn turned them around, lifting her up onto a small table, and dropped his hand to her thighs. He ran his fingers over the outside of her underwear, already feeling her wetness through the flimsy fabric. He groaned, flicking them aside, and slipped two fingers between her folds. She whimpered as he found her clit with ease, running it between his fingers as he gently teased it. 

“You always this wet, or does revenge just get you hot?”

She chuckled. “Surprised you’re not assuming it’s you.”

Finn huffed a laugh, and grinned at her. "I was pretendin' to be humble.”

Erin kissed him hard, and he groaned into it, moving his fingers faster on her clit as he teased her. She groaned and gasped and whispered his name, and he slipped his fingers lower, teasing them inside her, one after the other. His thumb riding her clit as she rode his fingers, her hands wrapped around his neck as he stroked her g-spot. 

“Fuck, Finn, that’s so good,” she whispered. “But I need more of you. Please.”

“Tongue or cock?” He growled, and the most delicious moan fell from her lips. 

“Cock. God, please give me your cock. I want to feel you inside me. I want–”

But she was interrupted by him pulling his fingers from her, sticking them in his mouth to lick them clean. She watched him, her mouth open, as he savoured her, running his tongue between his fingers to taste every last drop of her. 

“Shame,” he said. “You’re fuckin’ delicious.”

Erin gasped, grabbing for his trousers, undoing them so fast he barely registered what she was doing. He groaned as she slid from the table to her knees, face to face with his cock, and she chuckled. 

“Of course you fucking go commando.”

“Easy access, my darlin’.”

She tilted her head back, looking up at him as she opened her mouth, swirling her tongue around his tip as she tasted his precum. “Oh God,” she whispered. “You taste fucking incredible.” 

She ran her lips down his length, and he groaned, but pulled back. “Get up,” he commanded. “You said you wanted me inside you.”

Erin obeyed, standing up, and he turned her around, pulling her underwear down and pocketing them. 

Finn pressed on her back, bending her over in front of him. He knelt down briefly, allowing himself another taste of her as he licked her from behind. Her thighs twitched, and she moaned, her hands pressing against the wall, as he stood and aligned himself to her centre. 

He knew they didn’t have much time, but he needed to time it perfectly; long enough for Alfie and Kat to be looking for them, but not so long for the production team to beat the door down.

So he thrust into her. Hard. He gave her his whole length all at once, and she cried out, arching her back as the noise reverberated around the room in an echo. She looked over her shoulder at him, grinning. 

“Again.”

He withdrew from her, slowly, slowly, and drove back into her, his fingers digging into her hips as he brought her back to meet him. Erin cried out again, her hands against the wall, securing herself as she finished the movement with a roll of her hips. 

He groaned at the feeling of her gripping him from every direction, and pulled out once more, but instead of one hard thrust, he gave her two slow ones, and she moaned even louder. 

“God, please, Finn, just fuck me!”

He chuckled. “Only if you promise you scream my name when you come.”

Erin smiled over her shoulder at him. “Deal.”

He briefly considered being gentle, but quickly changed his mind as Erin shuffled, angling her hips forward and locking him in with how tight she was. 

He gasped, cursing out loud, as he noted why Suresh and Alfie were so keen on keeping her all to themselves. Finn had never left a woman unsatisfied, but Erin had the type of pussy that would make him blow in seconds if he didn’t start concentrating. Her perfect ass grinding back against him as he buried himself in that vice-grip of a pussy, his hands holding her curvy hips, her long, dark hair a mess of waves down her back. 

Erin moaned his name, and growled her approval as he slipped his hand between her legs.  His thrusts became more forceful as he watched her body tighten under his hands, the table slamming against the wall with the force of his thrusts.

God, the noise, the unbelievable noise of it was almost hurting his ears, the banging of metal and slapping of skin as he thrust into her harder and harder.

“Yes, Finn, like that, oh my god,” she groaned, moaning louder with each thrust. She felt so good, the grip of her, the slick wetness as she took every inch of him with ease, each individual ridge inside her igniting him as he hit them, over and over.

“Fuck, you feel fuckin’ amazing,” he gasped

He adjusted his stance, and she gasped, her head falling back as he felt her walls began to tighten. He groaned, angling his tip to smack her right in the g-spot, as her moans became mewls, and her mewls turned to cries. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she gasped, as she clenched tighter and tighter around him. 

Fuck, he was close, his entire body shaking as he furiously circled her clit, desperate to feel her, to see her, to hear her…

“I’m gonna come,” she whispered, her volume in a deep crescendo as she raised her voice louder and louder. “I’m gonna come, Finn, FINN!”

Erin cried out, her voice only contributing further to the din, the sound of her screaming his name over and over the most delicious thing he’d ever heard. But the sound of her ecstasy ruled above it all, completely engulging him as he came inside her, his body sucked into hers as she locked him in her vice. He groaned, her name falling from his own lips, worshipping her over and over with his thrusts. The clanging of the table slowed as he did, the loud chorus of noises replaced by only the sound of their own breathing as they came down together. 

“Holy fuck,” Erin laughed.

“Holy fuck indeed,” he agreed. “That was fuckin’ amazing.”

“Mmhmm,” she chuckled, groaning as he pulled out of her. She stood, and he smirked as he handed her her underwear, before pulling his trousers back on. 

“So…” she blushed. “Before we go out here and face the repercussions… where does this leave us?”

Finn stepped forward, cupping her face in his hands, and kissing her softly. “We can sleep on the daybeds for the next few nights. Don’t care. I just want you.”

Erin laughed. “So what happens if I don’t want you?” 

He sighed, and rolled his eyes, sweeping her into a deep kiss that had her melting into his arms. And as he released her, she practically had stars in her eyes. “Yeah, but you do, so that’s not something we’ll need to worry about.”

Erin’s face broke out into a wide smile, and she giggled, as he righted her.

As soon as they opened the door, they were surrounded by people, the producers furious, Eddie, Dana, and Arlo practically falling over themselves trying not to laugh. Kat looked like she’d already sharpened her claws, Alfie avoided eye contact, and Suresh looked like he was damn near about to burst into flames. 

He had absolutely no idea why, though. Not one of them had had a kind word for Erin for weeks. All they'd done was accuse her. Gaslight her. Call her names. Make fun of her behind her back.

Finn took Erin’s hand, and walked past all of them. 

Not one of them deserved her but him.

[fixfoxnox]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[soaps-hoe-141]

Back Together

Part 31

Pairing: Soap x Ghost

WC: 4.6k

Synopsis: Oh shit he's remembering things

Warnings: Brief mentions of past torture and rape

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

------- (Ghost POV)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[swearingcactus]

Little Details I Found in Far Cry 3-4

... that I found while I was rewatching stuff for fic accuracy. Jason and Ajay differences + similarities included!

whenever Citra touches Jason, she always touches his left arm first, presumably because that's where the tatau is. Which is a kinda neat detail, considering she only sees him as a warrior she could use.

This is not really something new but I just wanna say it again: when Jason woke up after he killed Vaas, the first thing he heard is Vaas saying 'we're so fucked, Jason'. not 'you're' like in the monologue.

This is also not new, but it's not mentioned anywhere in the wiki-- Jason canonically only has his left arm tatted up. His right arm being tattooed is just via the DLC/tattoo editor thing Ubisoft added and from old character arts.

Also, his tatau is canonically incomplete if you pick the 'save your friends' ending, because he was supposed to get it properly finished if he chose the path of the warrior. I'm guessing from the gameplay, it's like the last ring on his wrist.

when Ajay met up with Willis for the second time, he opened the helicopter door and started yelling about the files that were useless. Willis then scolded him saying he was un-American for not knocking. Ajay apparently listened, because the next time he meets up with Willis he knocks first.

During Durgesh, whenever Ajay sees a rakshasa the camera pulses and get all wonky which I assume is because a.) they're actually royal guards hence why they try and chase him down to put him back in his cell and they're giving him more drugs and/or b.) he's scared shitless of them

Both Jason and Ajay had supernatural experiences, and yea sure there's the magic compass and Shangri La/Kalinag thing, but also: Jason talked with a ghost of an airplane crash and Ajay can hear Yalung

Both Jason and Ajay got drugged via mysterious powder blown into their face

Both Jason and Ajay had visions of the future while they're drugged

It might be recycled animation but I will die on the hill to believe that Ubisoft made it that way so I can say: Both Jason and Ajay sleep with their hands to the side like princesses when they pass out

Albeit being the quieter of the two, Ajay actually is more vocal during surprise animal attacks. Jason does an 'augh' noise once in a while in contrast to Ajay straight up yelling 'FUCK!' / 'SHIT!!!'

Also we as a fandom always say that Ajay does whatever he's told and is esentially a doormat but the real doormat is Jason. Let's use Willis for an example: Jason does everything Willis tells him to with no objection + no questions and even thanks him for the free flamethrower. Ajay on the other hand asks questions for every single thing Willis tells him to do. (who are you, why should I help you, why do you need pictures of the body, why am I doing this-- it goes on).

This also applies to other missions- Jason never questions/challenges Citra/Dennis during the game (well, until the end). But during the first choice, regardless of who you choose, Ajay will say "you guys put me in a difficult position." In king's bridge if you chose Sabal's route Ajay'll try to argue the sudden change of plan with a "but Amita said--" and vice versa if you pick Amita's route in Jalendu, he'll actually try to ask about Sabal as well. You get my point.

Jason is more violent with stabbing syringes (not healing ones). Sometimes when he pulls it out there'd be blood squirting out of him.

Jason wears a belt. Ajay doesn't. (though to be fair he might be and it's just obscured. The reason Jason's belt is super obvious is because he's not wearing a jacket and the tail of his belt kinda hangs off)

Character model wise, it's kinda funny that during gameplay you can tell Jason gets dirtier via his fingernails while you can't see that from Ajay's gloves-- but in their actual 3d models, Jason is squeaky clean while Ajay looks like he just rolled around in dirt'

pls add more if you'd like im always a slut for little details and over-analyzing things

[demon-blood-youths]

Also, what about Davion! Do you have more intense wet dreams about him?

Jeez. These anons are freaking noisy. Rust sets his drink down on the table before groaning, "Listen man...are you really here to know about my love life or something? Like what the hell?" Rust doesn't want to say it. There were intense wet dreams that the knight had of Davion. The ones that keep occurring a few times were.

----

"Ha..ha...how does this help?"

"It helps with your muscle and increase your stamina, little knight."

"Nugh....yeah right." Rust doubts it.

The knight and the dragon were in the gym. They were exercising and training as usual. It starts off as tame at first. Like it's the usual workout but then it turns into teasing and then this.

It started out with Davion massaging his joints and his back to ease the nicks of his mucles. Then he went to his chest, and he felt him ghosting over his pecs before rubbing his pecs. Whenever he does this, he flushes his cheeks pink. Davion notices this and starts to tease his pecs further. Of course, Rust tells him to knock off and it leads to where the knight tells Davion that he can build up resistance to his touches.

To prove his point, Davion presents a challenge for the little knight that he can't say no to. A small bet. It starts off with using toys. A vibrator inside as he is using the exercise machines. Crazy bastard. He is sweating and heated, trying to focus on his sets. But he had to mess with him by adjusting the settings on this damn thing.

He is doing sets by lifting dumbbells in each arm. He focus on his sets but the toy is vibrating his spots, making his legs tremble a bit. He tries to steel his nerves as he continues his sets. "Seriously...how does this help?" "What's wrong, little knight? Are you tired already?" Davion teases as he is holding the remote in his hand. Rust huffs, "Faaar from it...hnng. I can still keep going." He said while his cheeks were flushed pink. He won't let Davion win. No way. However..things are getting harder from there.

He is doing sets on the leg press machine. He rests his back against the padded seat and presses his legs upwards against the pad that is attached to the weights. Davion said it helps with his legs. But he wants to see if he can handle the sensation in his ass while doing sets. He pushes his legs against the pad, doing his set. Every time he pushes, the vibrator touches his sensitive spots making him grit his teeth. After finishing his sets, he pants.

"Ha..ha...ha...."

"Was that hard for you?" Then Davion blinked, seeing the sweating Rust whose face heated and with his eyes half-lidded. Seeing him like this makes him tempting. He wants to take him right now.

"Fuck..." Rust uttered. And soon, they move away from the toys and go for the real thing. By the real thing, it means Davion is buried inside Rust while he is standing up, pulling the handles.

"Haaaa....haaa..."

Rust is using the cable crossover machine by pulling the handles while Davion is holding him steady. The blond gasped before growling a little. The dragon's hard girth is rubbing at the right spots making him gasp and drool a little.

"What's wrong? Are you doing alright?" Said the dragon, nibbling the lobe of his ear making the blond pant. "Mhmmm...I'm fine...you crazy dragon." He said with his cheeks heated. "A-almost done..." He pulls his head away from him.

"Good. Then can you help me with some sets. I need a spotter." Davion chuckled.

-----

The dream is visual and....damn....what would he call it? Kinky? What the fuck? What the hell is wrong with him?

----

He was helping Davion with the weights. He got on his lap while holding onto him. His bottom half is bare while straddling his lap. He panted. "How..how would this help?" Rust asked, wincing a bit.

"This is training for my cock and for your hips." Davion said at his ear while the blond is holding onto him. Davion is using the overhead press machine with Rust on his lap or rather on his hard girth, bouncing on it. While he is doing sets, Rust makes sure to hold on while counting. Seeing the look on the blond's face made the dragon hungrier and hungrier. He wants to eat him up.

"Ha...ha...damn." Rust said. "17....18...ah.....19....hrk...20." He said, uttering the counting wile closing his eyes. He keeps moving his hips down when Davion thrusts up when doing his sets.

After doing that...

----

Rust's cheeks flushed even redder, he hid his face in his hands before pulling his hoodie down. Darn it. Why does he keep remembering that dream?! He is getting aroused by this.

----

"Haahhh...fuck...hahhhahh...how much...longer?...oohhhhh" Rust whined as he is on his back with his hips lifted and being held by the dragon as the blond's legs were hooked under his arms. His lower back is off the mat and only his upper back is on the mat. Davion grunts as he keeps thrusting his hips forward making the knight moan and mewl.

"Ah...fuck....hnnng..." Rust panted as there is drool from the corner of his mouth.

The duo are on a gym mat that is being used for sit-ups, push-ups, and other exercise positions. And what they're doing is an exercise position. Or rather....Davion calls it that despite Rust knowing this is a sex position they're in.

The blond had his wrists tied up by jump rope, making this more hotter and dominant. He never thought that they would do this here in the gym!

The knight gasps and moans as the dragon keeps thrusting into him deeply. He also snaps his thrusts making him cry out loud. "Ah..AH! FUCK!"

"Hahaha...I won't be able to keep up this. How many sets are we in, little knight?"

"Is this for me or for you?" He complained but his rear got spanked making him yelp. "For both of us, my treasure." Davion chided him with a smirk making Rust flush redder. "now where were we?" Davion corrects him before giving another powerful thrust. The blond screams before he tries to remember where they are at.

"Um....um...20...20 more." The knight answers under him. "20 more sets to go." He said with his tongue out with half-lidded eyes. The blond isn't sure if he can withstand anymore of this. But he doesn't want this to stop. Damnit. It feels too good.

"Good boy." Daivon said, continue to thrust into him. Rust tightens up hearing that and looks up towards the ceiling. He can't even buck his hips since Davion has them in a tight grip. "Fuck...Davion...don't stop..."

"Don't worry...like you said...we got 20 sets to go!" Davion proceeds to increase the pace, hitting his prostrate dead-on making his knight moan loudly. "N-NOT THERE! DON'T HIT THERE!"

"You mean here???" Daivion delivers a precise pounding at the right spots, making the blond leak out as he throws his head back with a pleasurable scream. "Now keep track...little treasure."

"I-I will! I WILL!" Rust obeyed as he counted once more. The dragon chuckles and says, "I guess I win this bet, don't I?" He keeps on pounding.

"Y-yeah...you did!" Rust moaned. Davion keeps on going and it's hard to keep track. Rust cries and tightens up, he's getting close. Really close. Davion growls as he is getting close, not letting up as he keeps plowing and claiming his knight once more.

"Ah...I'm getting close. Are you close?" Davion asked, not stopping until his treasure cums.

"Y-yeah...I am. Need your heat! PLEASE! I want it!" Rust cried.

"Then let's come together!" Davion exclaimed before letting out a roar as both came.

------

In reality, Rust had to sit down and put his head in his hands. He tries to close his legs together. "Go away...anon. Not telling ya"

For @the-silver-peahen-residence