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#looooved the one shot
thatonebadideapanda · 6 months
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rapidhighway · 1 month
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the illness where i draw a comic out of context about an au that i dont want to explain to anyone but it comes out good so i want to share it anyway. this illness is killing and destroying me. i changed the dialogue so its silly
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taikanyohou · 10 months
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"Who said I hated him?"
STAY WITH ME (2023). Episode 1 -> Episode 8.
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mintsandapples · 7 days
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nat : none of those emergency hides for her. no, something custom. we measure, you get to work, i walk her through the screamsticks - god help her - then she sleeps so she can face oblivion with some pep! and we do an all-nighter. 
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piratespencil · 1 year
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The Cinderbrush one shot is sooooo so so good.
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birdmenanime · 1 year
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taking my transgenderification beam and aiming it directly at the bird club
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arttheclown · 11 months
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i should be in bed but what if i wrote a multi-chaptered fic for my really niche interest. i absolutely shouldn’t because i have too many WIPs sitting around as it is and i’m terrible at finishing things but what if.
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43?
Do you take a sadistic joy in whumping your characters, or are you more the "If you hurt them I would kill everyone and then myself" kind of person?
i mean... ig somewhere in between?? i don't really ever write angst just for the sake of angst, but i'm not against angst either (i mean. looks at cmh. literally killed the main character before the fic even started) so
idk to me when i'm writing, angst is generally somewhere between 'for the plot' and 'for the emotional effect towards the reader' but it's never like - specifically to hurt the character u know
ask meme
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astraebled · 8 months
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GO TO YOUR SPOTIFY REPEAT ON, PUT ON SHUFFLE AND LIST THE FIRST 10 SONGS.
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SNOOZE - Agust D ( ft. Ryuichi Sakamoto, WOOSUNG from The Rose )
LIFE GOES ON - Agust D
HUH? - Agust D ( ft. j-hope )
BLUE - V
THE GIRLS - BLACKPINK THE GAME OST - Blackpink
MIRACULOUS - Lou, Lenni Kim
SHALALA - Taeyong
LADYBUG PV - ^QueenRahana^
SEVEN ( EXPLICIT VERSION ) - Jungkook ( ft. Latto )
SLOW DANCING - V
tagged by: found this while looking for a playlist tool and it said "whoever else reads this" DON'T MIND IF I DO ! tagging: Whoever stumbles upon this and uses Spotify, please do it and tag me !
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ftmgirlie · 4 months
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Detrans Resolutions
I was too late for detrans december, so why not detrans 2024!
last update: jan 3, 2024
Let’s see how far we get hehehe
This will be counted until January 31, however, i’ll immediately start when i get home from the holidays ; )
I hope we can get a whole year of fun though!
every note = a day of letting my hair grow out
every 2 notes = groping my tits for 5 mins for a night
every 5 notes = a day of wearing panties
every 10 notes = a week of keeping my pussy shaved
every 15 notes = I won’t bind for five days
every 20 notes = a week I wear clothes that show off my curves
every 25 notes = I’ll fuck my pussy with my thickest dildo every other day for the rest of the game to remind myself of it’s true purpose
every 50 notes = I’ll go outside with a buttplug without panties or any other underwear
every 75 notes = i’ll skip a shot of t
100 notes = I’ll wear feminine perfume for a month
115 notes = i’ll shave my legs
125 notes = i’ll try to induce lactation
150 notes = i’ll wear lipstick for a month
200 notes = i’ll put my full first dead names on my header
250 notes = i have to keep an edge streak of two weeks to come once
300 notes = i have to get my nails painted once a month and keep it on as long as possible
325 notes = i’ll stretch my holes with an expanding toy every week
350 notes = i’ll try double penetration every 20 notes onward
375 notes = i’ll try pills that help with lactation
400 notes = i’ll make an account on a hookup app
450 notes = i’ll stop birth control
500 notes = i’ll have unprotected sex and try to get bred every 100 notes onwards
600 notes = i get a temporary womb tattoo
700 notes = i have to learn how to cum just from my nipples being played with
800 notes = i cant touch my clit without permission anymore
1000 notes = i stop ordering t vials and i can only use the one i have left until it runs out (its less than 5 ml)
1200 notes = i get a permanent womb tattoo
1500 notes = i get my ears pierced and wear feminine/dangly earrings every day
2000 notes = getting my nipples pierced (note: i may have to delay this to induce lactation better)
4000 notes = i get my clit pierced
5500 notes + submit suggestions in my asks/dms if you have any (i’ll most likely add them + i loooove submissions)
5000 notes = i publicly announce my detransition and return to womanhood
spamming encouraged! do your worst!
i’ll be posting an update on the total count of everything on jan 31!
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horrorartsworld · 2 months
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Hi! I’ve read quite a lot of your works and I’ve got to say, you’re a great writer, like oh my god!
I was wondering if you could write a one shot of Alastor with a female reader wife who’s like Beetlejuice? Appearance wise (but more feminine), personality wise and power wise as well. Maybe he hadn’t seen her full power before due to no one chanting her name, but during extermination day, as a last resort, someone does and she kind of just goes full on “beast mode” to protect her husband? What would Alastor’s reaction be? Would he like it?
If you can’t do it, that’s alright! I hope you have a great day! ^^
( ≧ᗜ≦)₊˚⊹♡ OMG NONNIE!! you do not understand how excited i was to write this for you hence beetjuice being one of my favorite movies hehe and thank you so much i hope you enjoy this one !!
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷
ghost with the most !
alastor/beetlejuice f!reader
warnings: slight angst, mentions of blood and massacre, some fluff towards the end!!
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꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷
“Wait…sooo you’re telling me chuckles over there has a wife?!” Angel Dust asks his voice raising in disbelief towards the chipper blond in front of him who just so happened to spring this unbelievable information on him.
“Oh sure!” Mimzy raved, with a sort of twinkle in her eye that she only got when she started to gossip. “Under all that creepy and murderous exterior there’s a big ol’ sap! Can’t say I blame him ether — his wife’s a real firecracker! Me and her use to get into all kinds of trouble when we were living!”
She sighs reminiscent on her past looking like she was lost in thought before Angel erupts in bewilderment once more, “There’s no fucking way! I can’t believe i’ve never heard about this…”
Then he suddenly glares at Husk who was unamused by the whole thing. “What?” He huffs with an eyebrow raised, using a towel to wipe off the innards of a dirty glass.
“You knew about this didn’t you…” He eyes him with the worst stink eye making Husk snort, “Listen…I did but that women is bad news and if anyone bothers to say her name three times it’s over…” The cat then places the glass delicately amongst the others before Mimzy gestures for a drink earning a scowl out of him, grabbing the glass once more. “Besides why wouldn’t i know…”
Angel Dust rolls his eyes, resting his cheeks in a pair of his hands taking all this new information in, then sitting up straight again. “Wait? why three times..”
Mimzy giggles delightfully like a toddler clapping her hands seeing Husk place a full glass in front of her. “It’s like her way of a contract honey, to make sure you truly need her when she’s summoned and she’s not all that bad Huskie she’s just a little eccentric and bizarre is all, but truly a fun gal!”
Husk lets out an annoyed huff turning his back to her as she downs her drink in one big gulp with a small hiccup following. “Besides no one’s seen her in years, bless her damned soul…” Mimzy goes back to being reminiscent once more, but this time with a frown forming on her face which was unusual for her.
“Anyways tits, are ya joining us tomorrow? Gonna be a riot.”Angel Dust attempts at changing the subject though he still wanted to know more, seeming that his question somewhat spooked her she started readying herself to leave.
“No, no, no sweetheart! As much as I loooove a good brawl, this one is just not my cup of tea, kick ass though, choa!” And like that the tiny little blonde broad was gone out the door.
Leaving Angel to stew on all this information he just consumed, his eyes then wandering on the grouch in front of him with a smirk playing on his face.
“Wanna fuck before we die?”
“No.”
“Worth a shot.”
⁺˚⋆。°✩₊🪲
On Extermination Day it wasn’t looking so hot for the Hazbin crew.
Each and everyone getting hit down one by one like a domino effect without really too much that they could do about it with their fire power seeming to not be enough like they thought.
Angel Dust looks along the battle field, spotting most of his friends injured or worse and none other than Alastor actually getting his ass kicked. Causing the spider insane amounts of uneasiness, when suddenly an idea clicks.
“Y/n…..,” Angel Dust hesitates thinking back to what Husk said about you and how this could possibly turn out. “Ah fuck it….Y/n! Y/n! Y/n!” He gives in shouting it as loud as he possibly could and within an instant the sky above the hotel swirled in green, causing many sinners and angels to look into the direction of it completely in awe of what it could be.
Alastor holding his chest as the gash across it starts to burn profusely, he notices everyone had stopped for some odd reason making him look in the direction of what had caught everyone’s attention, and if that man’s smile wasn’t permanently on his face already you would’ve saw the biggest grin known to man.
Suddenly a loud noise of a playful accordion rips through the air in a circus theme. ( https://youtu.be/gwsR5gOKK1U?feature=shared sounds something like this if your curious.) “Attention Kmart shoppers!” Your sweet yet sinister voice echoes throughout everyone’s ears with a menacing giggle following. “CLEAN UP ON ISLE SEVEN!! ,” Everyone looks around confused without noticing your form appearing in the middle of a bunch of the Exterminators, Angel Dust finally getting a good look at you causing his jaw to drop. Green hair flowed down your shoulders, a white and black striped dress hugged your body as two large mallets adorned both hands with a mischievous grin that could put Alastor’s to shame, then spinning both mallets around before giving quick blows to each and every dumbfounded exterminator that you saw, leaving an absolute massacre in your wake. Chest heaving with golden blood on your face, when you suddenly notice them, quickly wiping the blood with your striped sleeve and made your way over.
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷
(dress ref!!)
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꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷
Your green cloud forms behind a unsuspecting Adam with a pointed black nail coming out to tap his shoulder. He looks around aimlessly before facing Alastor once more, and then suddenly a large golf club appears with you on the other end of it with a golfers cap on your head. “FOUR!” Is shouted from your lips as you suddenly swing it with much force sending the douche bag flying lord knows where.
You hold your hand over your eyes pretending you saw where he was going, but then quickly snapped out of it to tend to your lover. “Always know how to make an entrance my dear,” Alastor says rather proud of his wife for being able to keep her cool all while kicking ass. “Oh you know I can’t help myself when there’s a crowd!” You dust yourself off before you do your best to help him up seeing his gash slowly dissipating into nothingness leaving just the rip in his nice dress shirt making you frown. “Awww Al, he ruined my favorite shirt!” You then loose track of what you were upset about and start playing with the hole delicately skimming your fingers across his skin, making him shiver as you made it seem like a mouth making ‘nom, nom,nom’ noises until Alastor cleared his throat.
“Sorry babe..” He chuckles down at you while then patting your head, before you wrap your arm around him taking him back to his friends.
“That’s quite alright…now how about we do some catching up, i want to hear all about your adventures,” He says looking down at you feeling how much he really missed this, missed you, clinging to you close like he never wanted to let you go again while you two walked.
Your eyes light up, bouncing up and down giddily next to him before jabbering on the rest of the way about things like almost getting eaten by a sand worm and practically ruining a recently deceased married couples start on the after life.
And of course Alastor was happy to hear all of it from his precious wife who he adorned and loved very much…
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luveline · 5 months
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we know that the criminal minds writers looooved hurting spencer but i would love to see bau!reader (bombshell!reader if you think it would fit) hurt and spencer losing his mind a little (ofc everything would end up being okay because we love fluff in this house 💗)! thank youuu <333
ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1k
“Spencer, are you coming in?” 
The boy in question winces, the cellophane wrapped stems in his hand strangled by an anxious grip. Your voice is hoarse, quieter than usual, though that could be attributed to the thick wooden door between you both. He takes the door handle in his hand, readjusts his fingers, can't quite get himself to go in. 
“Spence,” you say, missing your usual cheer. “Please come in.” 
He opens the door slowly. It weighs a hundred pounds, each inch heavier than the last. 
You're propped up on the movable bed with a dinner table over your legs. Someone's brought you contraband, it seems, expensive soup from the fancy restaurant you like just outside of work. Next to it lies your phone, your chapstick, and a prescription bottle. The orange of it is too glaring to look at for long. 
“Nice to see you finally, heart-throb,” you say, sitting back, rolling your shoulders as you smile. “Where've you been?” 
Sapped by terror in the waiting room, mostly. “Sorry,” he says, offering no explanation. You deserve one, but he can't get the words out. “How are you feeling?” 
“Shot at.” 
“Is it bad?” 
Your eyes soften. “No. Wanna see it?” 
He does in an awful way. To alleviate his panic, sure, but to know what it did. To see what his stupidity resulted in. The unforgivable in stark scarring. 
You lift your shirt and shift your soft bralette up a touch to show him the wound and all its grim stitches. “It almost missed me. Guess I'm not as lucky as I think.” 
“Does it hurt?” 
“Not right now. They told me not to wear wire bras for a while, so you win some, you lose some.” You let your shirt fall back into place. He can see the indecision in your eyes. Not one for hiding like he wants to, you address the elephant in the room. “Now you've seen it's not so bad, can you look at me again?” 
“I'm looking at you.” 
“You know what I mean.” 
The thing is, Spencer doesn't, not really. Half the time you act like you're sharing a secret with him but he doesn't have a clue what you're talking about, and the intimacy is lost, and it's his fault. He's never been good or smooth or charismatic, he's never deserved your attention, and it's his fault you're here, hurting, his fault you'd been prone on the ground, his fault Morgan had to hold your side closed, his fault you almost died. 
“Spencer,” you murmur, “you know I don't blame you.” 
Of course he knows that. 
“You should,” he says tightly. He doesn't mean to get angry. 
“Well, I don't. So give me my flowers and sit down.” 
He bites the inside of his cheek. He's mad, but he gives you the flowers without any roughness, and you take them with a similarly thin thank you. 
Your reunion isn't going how either of you wants it to, it seems. 
Spencer sits in the chair next to your bed as you pick between the petals, admiring their colours, their softness. For a moment you're peaceful, but you close your eyes and press your nose gently to a small bud, and you ask, “Why are you acting like this?” Heartbroken. 
He could explain it in halves. You passed out in the back of the ambulance. Your surgery had unexpected complications. Hotch was so angry, and he still wasn't as mad at Spencer as Spencer was at himself. 
Seeing you hurt because of his mistake isn't a feeling he thinks he'll survive a second time.
“I don't get why you like me,” Spencer admits. “Not before, and especially not now. You should be pissed. This,” —he gestures to you quickly— “is my fault.” 
“It's not your fault, Spence.” 
“What would you call it?” 
You put your flowers down and stare at your lap. He's pushed you too far. Nice, he thinks to himself scathingly, to upset you in your sick bed, that's exactly what he should be doing to make it up to. Great going, Spencer. 
“Will you hold my hand?” you ask quietly. 
He hesitates, his heart skipping a beat like a missed step down the stairs. 
“Please? I just… this has been a lot. I'm not telling you to make you feel guilty, I swear, but it's been a lot. And so many times I wished someone was here. I wished you were here.” You turn your head away from him. “I thought you were mad at me. I'm still worried.” 
Spencer stands up. He feels every stretch of muscle as he does it. You raise your eyes to his, holding out your hands; you know him better than anyone else, he thinks. He overcompensates every time. 
“I'm sorry,” he says, crossing his arms behind your shoulders carefully. 
“I told you it's not your fault.” 
“For not being here to hold your hand.” 
Your hand curls in the front of his shirt. 
“M'not mad. Not even slightly. I mean, not at you…” He rubs your back with his thumb. “Why would I be mad at you?” 
“What was I supposed to think?” 
He presses his nose to your temple, eyes squeezed close in regret. “...You're right.” 
This is what he should've done the moment you woke up. Instead, he let his mind focus on detail, what flowers demarcates remorse, or if cellophane wrapping would be an imposition. Anything to forget how your hands shook as the adrenaline wore off. 
They're steady now as they wrap around his sides to rest at the small of his back. 
“I’m sorry,” he says again, lips touching to your skin with each syllable, like fractions of kisses. 
“I missed you, handsome. Please– don't do that again.” 
He rubs your back. “I won't,” he promises. “I'll be here as long as you want me to be.” 
“Forever, then.” 
For once, your flirting doesn't make him blush. 
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ayselluna · 28 days
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Spawn Astarion Recommendations!
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So I heard you guys want Spawn Astarion Recommendations too! I heard you :) Apologies if it took awhile it got hard to compile everything I read.
I honestly have read more one shots Spawn Astarion than series tbh. but here are some series I love! These are Astarion x Tav / You / OCs following the story from the game! I'll be happy to make another list for AU's! Another Ascended list is on the way too~ :))
I DEFINITELY RECOMMEND FOLLOWING THESE WRITERS TOO as they have really great HCs and One Shots!
The Arrangement by @fangswbenefits - This is one of the first ones I've read and how she wrote Astarion is just so ASTARION! The lines, the slow burn and the smut are exquisite as hell. I do suggest reading her oneshots too! Her smuts are so good I suggest reading it ALONE. XD ONGOING!
The Fangs Between Us by @feyascorner - Not your typical Lovey-dovey Astarion and Tav. Astarion actually felt betrayed and actually tried killing you! Can love still blossom? is it still there? Would you guys even be friends?! So much angst and but oh so goooood! ONGOING!
Shadows of the Past by @pastshadowsff-blog / PallidMoon - What's an Astarion story w/o the angst? I would definitely be devastated the moment Astarion left me! The process of healing and loving, the confrontations here are soooo on point! Have a good gale on the side too~ ONGOING!
Love at First Knife by @bg-brainrot - DEFINITELY A FAVORITE! Aside from the romance from Astarion and TAV you get the WHOLE GANG TOO! I'm a sucker on everything on this series! I can't count how many times I've re-read this while I wait for my other fics to update. ONGOING? I'm not sure but it gets updated!
When He’s all but Forgotten How to Love Again by @bg-brainrot - okay another one from the same author, at this point just read everything!! okay, but what if TAV died and got reincarnated?! If you got an elf TAV this is definitely one for the books! I LOOOOVE this one a lot. Getting your memories back and seeking your lover out, would it be the same? Would he even remember you?! Surely he will right?! but what if he don't? hmmmm READ IT! ONGOING!
Astarion Talks In His Sleep by  @littlejuicebox - This is a short series but this was just memorable coz WE'LL LOVE EVERYTHING in it. It's one of the happy endings you'd totally wish for and how this story got me gasping and giddy was just chef's kiss! You'll love her DADSTARION series too! I LOVE THIS FAMILY A LOT. :))
Cursed To Put My Hands On Everything by @maladaptive-menace - I recently found this and I got hook immediately on the concept! I also love the titles on this series, as the title says~ :)) So imagine you're doing your mundane things IRL and one tiring night you found yourself Isekaid IN the GAME?! You know you're effed up, how would you survive?! well at least you got your dream come true of meeting the gang in the flesh…specially the Pale Elf~ ONGOING!
Winter Holiday Challenge Fills by @justporo - So this is an all fluff from the Winter Holidays! I know it's not christmas anymore but if you missed it during that time who cares?! READ IT! Get all the fluffiness you need from this series! Check that full masterlist on their profile too while you're at it~ :)) FINISHED!
The Currents of Destiny by @lendeah - You and Astarion fights after he didn't go with the Ascension, left and scorn you to die screaming! But what if he sees all the what if that could happen?! Would his decision stay the same? FINISHED!
An Adventure in Making a Life by @redlittlefoxari - okay something different but maybe a PREGNANCY fic anyone? :D This was one of the fastest story I binged! You both just learned you're pregnant but an invitation from a friend comes forth! Maybe keep it a surprise for the gang? How would this pregnancy on the road takes you? ALSOOOO FREAKING LOVIING HUSBAND ASTARION UGGHH i can't~
I have more authors to recommend but we'll keep this list for now! I urge you to follow these authors too and check their other works.
Let me know if you guys are up for more recommendations! I have more to share! <3 Hope you enjoy reading them as I did! More reading buddies!
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🥺 hi. I get so anxious asking for requests. So I’m sorry if it’s weird. But could I please please Pleaseee get a ghost x fem reader. Hurt to comfort. They were on a mission and she’s there for medic help. Not even to fight. But she got taken by the bad guys. And she gets tortured for information that she doesn’t have. And they play mind games with her. Making her think that they will never come rescue her. They really fully break her body and break her mind by the end of it. But before she thinks she’s about to finally die, Ghost and the others come and save her. And it’s about how the only person she feels safe with after all that is ghost and just him helping her heal and get back to the woman she was before all this. I want it to hurt my soul. 😭 but then there’s hope at the end of it bc they have each other.
My Heart Will Go On
Don't be, I love when people ask me things, and I looooved this request so much!!! I too like to torturehave fun with my OC's :)
TW: Blood, torture, manipulation
Pairing: GhostxReader
Part 2
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen at all, actually. It was just another mission, another day on the job. You went out with the boys as usual, their assigned medic as theyghost refused to work with anybody else. You weren’t sure why. Maybe it was your soft demeanor, your gentle touch, the way you never judged himthem for anything hethey did. But whatever it was, they liked you, and so with them you went.
You hung back at the evac point, also as usual. Sitting in the truck, first aid kit on your lap, a comm in your ear as you listened to your boys and made sure they were all okay. It was a tense fight, gunshots and pained grunting filling your headset. You were on edge, rocking back and forth as you listened for your que to come in. In fact, you were so focused on the comms that you didn’t even notice the danger you were in until it was too late.
Your first cue something was wrong was when the comms went silent. The sounds of battle filled your ears for hours before getting cut off abruptly. Your hand shot to the comm link, fiddling with it as you frantically tried to reconnect, worried something was wrong.
“Ghost, do you copy?”
“Ghost?”
“Price?”
“Gaz?”
“Can you hear me??” Your voice got more and more panicked as you got no response. You yanked the headset off and shrugged your vest on, kit in hand as you slid out of the truck.
Your second clue something was wrong was when you looked up to see the barrel of a gun pointed directly at your face. You didn't even have time to ask ‘what’ before everything went dark.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hello, princesa.” You blink hard as the blindfold is removed from your eyes. The light is blinding, the splitting headache you got from being pistol whipped only intensifying under the harsh lights.
“Who are you?” You manage after a moment, eyes slowly focusing on the man in front of you. He is large, easily over six foot, and built like an absolute unit. His face is covered by a black balaclava, though his scarred, tattooed forearms are on display.
“Don’t play stupid with me.” His voice is deep and smooth, and if you weren’t in the situation you are in you would have asked him to keep talking.
“‘M not! I don't-"
“Don’t lie to me Princesa. I don’t like liars.” A shiver runs down your spine as his tone darkens.
“But I’m-”
“Ah ah lovie, I am one asking questions here.”
“I wasn’t ask-”
“SHUT UP!” You flinch back at the drastic change in tone, the sound sending bolts of pain through your skull.
“Oh sorry Princesa, did that hurt?” Seriously, you are going to get whiplash from his bi-polar personality, “Forgot you have concussion. Let's get you Advil for that and then we see if you talk, yeah?"
You watch with blurry vision as he leaves the room, slamming the door shut behind him. The sound sends waves of agony through your pounding head, and by the time you can focus again he's back.
All it takes is one well placed blow to the head, an attempt to get you to pay attention, and you're out like a light.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I don’t know anything I swear! Please! I don't know anything!” The sobs tear raggedly out of your throat, already raw from screaming. Your voice is scratchy and broken, but still you can't stop begging.
“I don’t know anything” You sob. Those words, I don’t know, had become your motto over the past few daysweeks(?)
“Oh Princesa. I know.” He croons, running a finger down your bruised face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Time was meaningless. Has it been 2 days since you were captured? Two weeks? Months? You don’t know. Your meals come at staggered times, and your captors never come at a routine time. The lights turn on and off at staggered times, nothing in a set pattern, a system created to mess with your mind.
Not that you know that. This wasn’t the kind of life you lived. You were a medic for heaven's sake. Your hands had been built to mend, to fix, to heal. Not to clutch at broken bones, to scratch against cement, to be chained and broken. You arewere a gentle creature, not designed for this world of torture and terror.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"They no come for you." You moan as the words pound through your skull, nearly unintelligible.
"Wh'...y'say?" You mumble, voice scratchy and broken.
"You're friends, Princesa. They are no coming for you." He sighs and moves next you, prodding your side with his steel-toed boot, "You are replaceable, your skills are easily replicated, they no spend time and resources to find a simple medic."
"They…'ll c'me." You wheeze, refusing to belive that Price, that Gaz, that Soap, that Ghost, would just...leave you.
He laughs in response, digging his toe into your side until your gasping in pain.
"We shall see, Princesa. We shall see."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You weren’t built for this. Weren’t built to recognize the manipulation, the mind games. Weren’t built to survive the two-face man who was reshaping your brain. The man who was your greatest source of pain, but also your only friend. The man that flayed your flesh open, but soothed and bandaged you when it was all over. This man, who was slowly becoming the only thing you could trust in your unstable world. He may bring you unbearable pain, but he brought you comfort too.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"That looks bad, Princesa." The man lightly touches the bones sticking out of your forearm. You whine in pain, clutching it to your chest. He chuckles, wiping your blood off on the cell floor.
"Let's get that fixed up, yeah?" His voice is soft, and gentle, and the nicest thing you've heard in a loooong time. His touch is the same, gentle caresses of bruised and broken skin, revolting and appealing at the same time.
Oh, it's utter agony as he sets and stitches your arm with no pain killers. You scream, back arching, lungs heaving, body seizing.
But after? Oh it's heaven. He holds you, cradling you against his warm body, making sure you don't go into shock, telling you you're a good girl, and that you've made him proud. You hate yourself for it, but you can't help but preen at the praise.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He brings you a calendar. One month. It’s been one month since you got taken.
“It’s been over a month.” He says, a deep voice tinged with pity, “and no sign of your…friends. I’d give up being rescued if I were you, because they clearly have.” You can barely hear him as you stare at the paper in his hands, 31 days marked off with big, bright X’s. 31 days that you have been trapped here. 31 days that your squad…hadn’t come for you. Is he right? Are they really not coming? Did Ghost really give up on you? Are you-
“Ay Princesa, I even did what you asked. I sent your squad pictures and videos that even the greenest tech member could pull some coordinates from, but nothing. It’s like I said. Your ‘friends’ don’t care for you. They are not coming for you. I am your only friend in this place. Tell me, who bandages your wounds, who feeds you, who makes sure your living space is comfortable?”
“Y-you do.” You whisper uncertainty, “But…you also hurt me, don’t you?”
“Oh Princesa, I wouldn’t hurt ya if y’ would just listen. It not torture if you're disobedient. It's just…punishment.” His voice is sickeningly sweet, “And you just back-talked me. Do you remember what happens when you try to give me sass?”
"I get…punished." You mumble, cheeks flushing with shame.
"Obviously, you fucking idiot. I mean how."
"I…you…I have to do affirmations."
"Look at that, y'r gettin' it!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Say it again." He snarls. You sit in front of a mirror, face bruised, bleeding, and swollen.
"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends…'re n-no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'v'ble…I 'm r'pl'c'…able." You whisper for the hundredth time.
"Again."
"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends 're no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'vable, I 'm r'pl'c'…able."
"Again!"
"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends 're no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'vable, I 'm r'pl'c'…able."
He makes you keep going, repeating those 4 sentences until you literally can't make sound anymore, a fact he tests by seeing how much it takes to get you to scream. You pass out before he gets anywhere.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Ghost?"
"Simon?"
"Please."
"Why are you not coming for me?"
just FYI if the timing seems disjointed and the speech is wierd, that is intentiweird,
anyways I hope you liked it!!!!
392 notes · View notes
whiskeynwriting · 1 year
Text
Eyes On Me
Simon “Ghost” Riley x OFC “Bones”
Word Count: 8.1k
Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) 
Flirting, pining, size difference, mentions and descriptions of injury, mentions of battle, dirty talk, praise, dry humping, unprotected vaginal sex
Summary: Ghost gets a life-threatening injury, and it’s your job to make sure he returns to full-health. 
A/N: I rarely do summaries on one-shots, but since I’m introducing a character I figured I would (: I loooove this character, and I’m really hoping to write more one-shots with her and Ghost in the future!
Part Two: Lucky
Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist
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Working on them was easy, they took everything you gave them like champs. Splints, stitches, cleanings, anything they had, you took care of. They’d bite their tongues, ball up their fists if they had to, but for the most part, that was it. Vargas wouldn’t whine, but Gaz would. Price was nearly silent and in all honesty, Soap whimpered like a baby. But Ghost, he didn’t ever make a sound. 
It wasn’t always like this, you weren’t always 141’s go-to medic. Before, you were here for everyone. Whoever needed you, that’s who you tended to. You got so good at it that at one point, you’d been promoted to a rescue mission position. Daily helicopter rides became your usual. Freezing temperatures and smoke-filled air met your exterior shell on a weekly basis. You’ve even been dropped into open fields full of bullets and bloody cries. The training you received was minimal, but enough for you to take it and run. You had talent, that talent growing into expertise. You knew how to defend yourself, your reflexes were good. You could shoot a gun and if need be, hold your own. That’s what got you to 141. 
They impressed you, they still do. The team worked like a well oiled machine. And when you first saw them, you immediately questioned him. 
“What’s with the mask?” You’d asked him, straight to his face. He tilted his head. “Is it still Halloween?” 
The boys laughed, but Ghost didn’t. His fingers curled, and he sucked in a breath. You were brand new; not a good way to start off with him. Hey, it’s not your fault he took it the wrong way. You love Halloween. Sometimes you even find the scary things sexy. 
Eventually you learned the real reasoning behind his mask, behind the skeleton head that hid his face. Honestly, you were intrigued by it, his anonymity. But sometimes, it got in the way. 
“Blood type?” You’d asked, going through each soldier’s file as you became acquainted, some months ago now. 
“Unknown.” Your colleague responded. 
“What? What do you mean?”
“We have little to no information on Ghost’s background.” 
“What if he starts to bleed out? Or needs a blood transfusion?” 
“Guess I’ll die.” Came his gruff response. 
Spinning around in your small and circular wheeled chair, you saw his bulky body taking up the majority on the doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest while leaning against the frame. 
Why is she so interested in me? He’d wondered, suspicious of you. What he should’ve been asking himself is, why am I so interested in her? 
He’d seen you work on his team, you were efficient and clean. He’d even go so far as to call you fearless. And surprisingly, he finds himself liking that. You were a bit of a brat, but at the heart of your teasing jokes, there was a sense of playful familiarity. And overall, having you around was good for his men. He didn’t know how vital you were to his team, though, until you had to be flown in to rescue him. 
Pressing into his wound, you didn’t even feel him flinch. The gauze was soaked in the red stain seeping from the cut in his skin, and you were running out of supplies - you were running out of time. And apparently, your frantic nature showed. 
“Hey,” You direct your sternest voice at him. “Ghost - Simon, eyes on me.” 
He’s spiraling; body feeling light and his consciousness leaving you quickly. His eyelids are fluttering. 
“You worried about me, love?” He was out of it, losing blood and flirting while in his hazy state. It was the first time he’d ever been nice to you. 
But really, he wasn’t just being nice because his body was going into shock and losing his grip on reality. He was talking to you this way because he didn’t know if he’d ever get the chance to after this. 
Giggling, you shook your head, happy that he was now responding to you. “Nah, big boy like you?” Patting his shoulder, you said, “You’ll be just fine.”
Even if he didn’t show it, Simon was worried, too. 
“But I bet you wish you’d told me your blood type now.” 
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He wasn’t happy. Simon didn’t ever seem that happy, but right now, he definitely wasn’t happy. All he’s ever known is a military lifestyle, training and being out in the field. Having his team’s back, contributing to the work effort, that’s what he was best at. And now, he can’t do any of that. At least, not for the next couple weeks. 
“I’m not a child.”
“Never said you were.” Rolling your eyes, you openly sass him. “It’s just a blanket.” 
It was the first day of him being in your mini infirmary, just the two took up the room. Each of the boys came in to give him a pat on the shoulder, make sure he was doing alright. But in all honesty, Ghost hated this kind of attention. Being coddled and cared for. He could take care of himself. 
“Are you hungry?”
“No.” He grunts, looking away almost childishly. 
“Suit yourself. I’m gonna go get some pizza.” 
At this, he perks up a bit, groaning. “Can you bring me back a box?” Mumbling, he’s still looking away.
Before you leave, you turn back around with a grin. “Sure thing, big boy.” 
Once you’re finally gone, he sighs, his emotions contradicting each other inside. Frustration doesn’t even come close to what he’s feeling. He never gets injured in the field. Is he losing his touch? Surely not, he’s still in his glory years. For him, it’s embarrassing to be seen like this, not just in front of the boys but in front of you, though he’d never admit it. You make him feel nervous inside, like he has to heighten the man he already knows himself to be. He has to be tougher around you; he can’t show any weakness. The only problem with that, was that he did have a weakness, a major one. That gaping hole in his chest. 
“Alright,” Coming back with two boxes of pizza, you set them on your desk, moving them to the side. “Let’s clean you up.” 
“I can do it myself.” 
“Okay, look.” Wiping your hands off of your pants, you turn to face him. “This is my job. Would you get angry at Soap for clearing a room before you? Or Price for conducting an infiltration route?” 
This makes him stop, closing his mouth for a moment, although you can’t see it. 
“I’m part of your team, you have to acknowledge that. Your job is to kill bad guys, and my job,” Taking a few steps toward him, you point to his chest. “Is to fix the mess the bad guys make.” 
Ghost shifts his shoulders, looking away from you for just a second. And after a moment, his eyes return to yours, and he nods. 
Reaching down, he cracks the knuckles on his hands, and it takes everything in you not to break his eye contact. Every movement of his muscles makes you sweat, the ripples of them more than a beautiful sight. He’s impressive. All he has on right now are a pair of shorts and a bandage wrapped around his upper chest. Other than that, he’s bare. You can see the muscles in his abdomen, the impressive form and firmness of them, the bulges of his biceps and the chorded muscle in his forearms. His legs are thick, huge, sturdy enough to hold his entire weight along with two other men, if need be. Again, impressive.
Satisfied with his nonverbal response, you turn to grab the essentials. Pulling over a small, wheeled tray, you begin your work. Ghost sits up off the back of the bed for you, allowing you to remove the bandages around his chest. He maneuvers himself to sit cross-legged while you do it, his head tilted down to watch you work.
Truthfully, Simon thought you were attractive the moment he saw you. And then you made fun of him. But when he balled up his fists, when he inhaled that sharp breath as a reaction, it wasn’t because he was mad at you. It was because right then and there, he was attracted to you. 
“You ever been stabbed like this before?” 
He doesn’t answer for a minute, not really wanting to admit it. But then he shakes his head. “No.” 
This tells you something, it tells you that you’re tending to the worst injury he’s ever had. And you’re shocked by his answer, you would’ve assumed he’s had worse. But a stab to the chest that just barely misses the heart? Yeah, that’s pretty bad. 
He doesn’t budge when you apply the antiseptic, allowing you to work in peace. Once you’ve cleaned the wound, he’s surprised to feel your hands. His eyes widen while keeping his gaze on you, watching as your fingertips explore him. They move across his chest, just barely gliding over his skin. 
“Doesn’t look too bad.” You murmur to him, eyes trained on his chest. 
Ghost is undeniably the fittest out of the entire team. He’s huge, and not just in height. You haven’t seen his naked torso since the day he was stabbed, and when you were tending to him then, you definitely weren’t thinking about how attracted you were to him. You were working to save his life. But now, you have time to let your thoughts wander, to let yourself experience what he feels like. 
Trailing down a bit, your fingers graze over his abdominal muscles, your tongue briefly sliding across your lower lip. His muscles are firm, smooth, and warm. Your touch makes him feel uncertain; he doesn’t know what you’re doing, but it’s making him nervous. Well, not nervous, necessarily but… excited. 
“What happened to you being nice to me, huh?” You ask, tilting your head up to look at him. And the smile you offer is pretty. “Thought you’d be my best friend after I saved your life.”
This makes him laugh, a small grunt coming out toward the end from his injury. You’re right, he should be nicer to you considering the circumstance. He should also be nicer to you because, well… he fancies you. 
“I’m sorry.” He finally acknowledges, albeit quietly. “I know I’ve been acting… standoffish.” 
“It’s okay,” Shrugging, you reach for the clean bandages. “I get it, you’re embarrassed.” 
Sighing, he looks down at your nimble hands again. “Yeah.” 
“Let’s get your blood pressure before you eat.” You then tell him, changing the topic while retrieving your tools. “Then I’ll leave you alone,” Glancing up at him, you grin. “I promise.” 
Right now, he doesn’t want you to leave him alone. You’re nice company. 
Attaching the cuff over his bicep is a feat in and of itself. His muscles stretch the fabric, but it ends up securing around him adequately. You then take your stethoscope, applying it to his inner elbow while you begin pumping the meter. Glancing up at the machine, you focus on the readings, and absentmindedly, your hand wanders. While continuing to record his data, your free hand slides down his arm and into his palm as you steady yourself beside him. 
Widening those pretty brown eyes, he releases a breath, now looking further down. He’s surprised, but honestly, it feels nice. Makes him relax. And while staring at your smaller hand now resting in his, he inhales deeply, curling his fingers slightly around your hand. This makes your head snap to the side, having not fully realized what you’d done. But Ghost doesn’t move when you look at him; he does stare at you though, right into your eyes. And while keeping your gaze, he lightly squeezes your hand. He really is sorry. He’s grateful.
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The days following the first are actually pretty nice. With your main focus on Ghost, the rest of the crew seem to leave you alone for the time being. 
“You’ve been a big help lately.”
“What?” Comes that thick, English accent. “I’ve done nothing but sit on my ass.”
“Yeah, but it keeps them,” Pointing out into the training yard, you finish, “Off my ass.” 
Turning, he stretches, watching his team run around and lift weights on the field behind him, only a window separating them. 
“It’s like I told you, sweetheart.” His head then moves, returning his gaze to you. “You’re the finest thing they’ve seen in months.” 
“Oh, yeah?” You tease. “What about you?” 
Since he’s been nicer, you’ve been spending more time at his side. You didn’t need to sleep here, he was fine by himself, but after that first night, you did. You couldn’t help yourself. Thinking about him all alone in the infirmary while you lay cozied up in bed made you sad. You didn’t want him to get lonely. So, you slept on the small loveseat in the corner, the one the boys usually sit on to smoke. And your sleepovers were starting to make you close, that sweet little nickname being evidence of that.
“What about me?” Under his mask, his face heats up. He knows what you’re asking.  
“Am I the finest thing you’ve seen in months?”
Under that skull-painted cover, he grins, giving you a single nod. “You’re pretty.”
“Oh, Ghost,” Walking over to him, you lean into his bicep, clutching it. “I knew you’d eventually fall in love with me.”
Rolling his eyes, he grumbles with an amused tone, “A pretty big pain in my ass.”
After he says this, you laugh, pushing yourself off of him. 
“Bones?” Your comm link buzzes slightly, a bit of static coming through. 
Pressing your button, you tilt your head to the side. “What’s up?” 
“Searg. is calling a meeting.”
“Time?”
“Eighteen hundred.”
“Alright, I’ll see you then.” 
“Bones?”
Once your conversation has ended, another one promptly begins. Lifting your head to face him, you raise a brow. “Yeah?” 
Ghost tilts his head to the side slightly, narrowing his eyes at you.
“Never heard anyone call you that.”
“Yeah, well you’re not on my med. team.” 
“Well, you’re on my team, aren’t you?”
Giving him a thoughtful pout, you eventually answer with, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 
“Then we should know your cover.” His voice is stern and gritty, deep and rumbling. It’s like how he talks out in the field. 
“Well, now you do.” Giving him a quick wink, you turn away, intent on doing some paperwork before your meeting. 
“What’s the meaning of it?” When you don’t immediately answer, he calls for you. “Bones?”
Something about him using your code name makes you grin. 
“I’m known for breaking them.” Turning, you face him once again, a smile plastered across your smooth lips. 
“Known for breaking bones?” He clarifies, sounding skeptical. 
“Yep.”
“Huh,” He scoffs, “That’s not exactly something to boast about, is it?” 
“Well, it wouldn’t be if they were mine.” 
Oh, now he gets it. 
“I did a lot more than sew up wounds before I came here.” With a heavy sigh, you reminisce on your time in the field. But you made a choice to be here. “I used to break them, now I heal them.” 
He never knew. And honestly, this new information only makes him more attracted to you. A badass soldier with a gentle touch? Sounds like his kind of woman. 
“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” You emphasize, “I’ve got some paperwork to do.” 
“Fine.” He returns flatly, and you giggle. He really sounds upset about that abrupt ending. 
“Think you’re gonna be okay by yourself while I’m gone?”
“Won’t be a problem.” He grunts, shimmying to lay back down. “I’ll just sleep.” 
Throughout your hours spent together, you’ve discovered that he’s quite the fan of naps. He takes one every day around three in the afternoon, and you wonder if he’s finally enjoying his rest. It doesn’t help that you often have to leave him while he’s sleeping, though. You’ve liked being by his side lately, it’s comforting. His presence has begun to grow quite kind, and even in the quiet times, it’s nice. But you still have meetings and other duties to tend to. Which include the one you’d been called to. 
Ghost’s gentle snore is what prompts you to look up, your eyes searching for his own. But they’re closed, one arm propped behind his head with his other hand laying over his stomach. He’s fully laying on the bed, the blanket only covering up to his waist. He’s still shirtless, and right now, he looks practically naked. Aside from the mask. Eyes trailing up his form, you take in the steady rise and fall of his chest, the light-colored hairs scattering his pectorals, and even further down, leading from his belly button to the hem of his pants. It makes you sigh, he looks peaceful. You’ve never seen him so relaxed. 
You don’t like the thought of him waking up to a room empty of you, so to make up for it, you head to the cafeteria. As quietly as you can, you return with a large pizza, one with his favorite toppings on it. Steak, mushrooms, onions, and two kinds of cheese, specifically provolone and American - strange and lengthy details, but ones you memorized, nonetheless. And after you set the box down, taking in another look of him, you turn to leave. 
Eventually, the smell wakes him up. How could it not? It’s his absolute favorite thing to eat. But he has to be careful, he needs to keep himself in shape over these couple of weeks, or he’ll need more training than originally planned. Sighing, he props himself up, the realization now setting in. 
She did this for me. 
He knows it was you and not the boys because of the little note on top of the box. 
Ghost, 
I’m at a meeting until six tonight, I’m sorry I probably won’t be around when you wake up. Here’s some pizza to make up for it. Hopefully you still love me &lt;3
Bones
He rolls his eyes at that last part, a smile pulling on the edges of his lips. You can be so sarcastic sometimes. But he likes it. You make him laugh. 
While you’re gone, Simon thinks about the way you take care of him. You’re so gentle with him when changing his bandages and cleaning his wound. Your smaller hands touch him so softly that it makes him feel things for you. He wonders, is he just interested in you because you’re the only woman around? Or is he interested in you because you’re funny? Because you’re nice? It’s because you’re such a tender caretaker and you remind him of all the love he never got in life. 
Looking back at the note, he reads it again. It sounds like you’d regretted leaving him, even for something as important as a medical staff meeting. Maybe you’ve been enjoying his company, too. 
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When night rolls around, you snuggle up on the couch, pulling the blanket you’d grabbed from your cot over your shoulders. Ghost just stares at you, one leg laying flat on his bed with the other up, the sole of his foot planted on the mattress. 
“How the hell do you fit on that?”
Shrugging, you answer with, “It’s easy to fit in places when you’re not an enormous tank.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” 
“You should,” Smirking, you can just barely see his eyes in the darkness. Those nearly black orbs find your own, and it makes your chest tighten. “I like the way you’re built.” 
He chuckles, amused. “Yeah?” And then he reaches for a pack of cigarettes next to his bed, lifting the edge of his mask. “Why’s that, love?” That word makes the skin on your face burn. 
You get a small flash of his face when he lights the end of his cig with a match, and you notice something you’ve never seen before. 
“What’s that scar from?” It just comes out on its own. He knows you’re talking about the one on his jaw. 
“You didn’t answer my question.” He points out, taking a puff. And for some reason, you find that so hot. 
“I’ll answer it if you answer mine.” 
Sometimes, you aggravate him. Sighing, he speaks through the darkness, telling you, “Fine.” 
A sly grin crosses your face on the other side of the room, and you wonder if he can see it. He can. 
“I like men with muscles.” And he likes that answer. “Makes me feel like they can take care of me.” 
He exhales calmly into the nighttime air between the two of you, pressing his lips to the cigarette and then inhaling once again. Ghost knows he could take care of you. 
And then he thinks about his own response, settling with, “It came from a knife.”
“Yeah, no shit.” Rolling your eyes, you scoff. “You gotta tell me more than that.” 
Flicking the ashes of his cigarette into a tray, he lays back a little on the bed. “It was a mission in the Middle East. Bloody heat was killing me, I had to lift my mask up.” 
Oh, wow. Honestly, you were just kidding. You never thought he’d actually tell you anything more. But you take this chance and run with it, listening intently so you don’t miss a single piece of his story. 
“We were ambushed,” He continues, shaking his head. “Price never saw it coming.”
Truly, you can’t even imagine. Sure, you had your time in the field, but it was nothing compared to what he’s gone through. 
“We took them out, but not before one of them got to me with a knife. Sliced up my jaw.” Ghost exhales a puff of smoke, watching it billow into the air. Then he gently shakes his head. “Didn’t let him get any further ‘n that.” 
By the end of the story, his voice has grown flat. Maybe he doesn’t like thinking about his scars. Maybe it’s why he keeps the mask on. 
“Could I… could I see?”
“My scar?” Comes his instant response. “What for?” 
“I dunno,” Shrugging in the dimly lit light, you glance down at the floor. A timid gesture that he again sees. 
After a moment of silence, he figures, what the hell? Having you be close to his face didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. Besides, he likes getting a good look at you. Finishing off his cigarette and rubbing the butt of it down into the tray beside him, he says, “Why not?” 
Looking up, you shake your head. “It’s okay, I don't have to. I don’t even know why I asked.”
He doesn’t even hesitate. “Come over here, doll.” 
Almost giddily, you do, shoving your blanket to the side and popping up onto your feet. He chuckles deeply upon seeing your reaction, watching you scamper over to him. 
“You’re excited about this, huh?”
Shrugging, you grin, standing right next to his bed. “Maybe.”
You don’t give a single shit about his scar. You want to see him. Being close to Ghost gives you a good feeling. 
Leaning over, you turn on your desk lamp, illuminating this corner of the room. And when you come back to him, you’re met with the incredible sight of his eyes. They’re dark brown in shade, but in the dim light, they're a dazzling pool of honey. But what really catches your eye is the lower half of his face. His mask is still pulled up, revealing his mouth, chin, and jaw. 
“Can I touch?” You then ask, keeping your voice quiet. 
He eyes you up and down while your gaze is fixated on his mouth. His lips curl, and he nods. “Sure.” 
Lifting your hands, they fall to either side of his face. When you make contact with him, he closes his eyes, exhaling a slow breath, accepting your touch. He can’t remember the last time he let someone do this. 
“Hm…” You don’t mean to, but you hum, fingers trailing along his jawline and chin. He has stubble here, just barely. It seems like when he’s crept away to the showers at night, he’s shaved. 
Ghost’s eyes trail across your face, feeling your breath on his skin. You’re closer than you ever have been before, and it makes the muscles in his chest tighten, makes his pulse quicken. Licking his lower lip, he whispers, “How’s that feel?” 
“Good.” You respond, nodding, your eyes not once leaving his mouth. “I like it.”
“Why’d you want to feel it?” He then wonders aloud, and he wishes you would look up at him. He wants to look into your sweet eyes. “Haven’t you seen enough scars in your lifetime?” 
“I don’t really care about scars.”
What the hell?
Scrunching his brow, he then asks, “Then why the hell did you want to see mine?”
Now, you do look up into his eyes. Taking a deep breath, you work up the nerve to say what’s floating through your mind. “Because it’s on you.”  
Immediately, he swallows. His gaze falls to your mouth for the first time since you’ve been this close, flickering back and forth from your eyes to your now slightly parted lips. And all at once, he sits up a bit straighter, wrapping an arm around your back to pull you in.
As if you’re expecting it, you melt into him, letting him press you to his body. The fingertips on his jaw slide along his cheeks as you move to fully hold his face in your hands, Ghost’s lips easily meeting your own. One large arm slides around your back, hand securing to your waist as he pulls you further into him. 
Heartbeat pounding in your veins, you gasp quietly against him, molding your mouth to his as you return his enthusiasm. Your hands hold onto him tightly, sliding down to the back of his neck. But then he stops, releasing a rough sigh and opening his eyes to look at you. 
“Come here,” He whispers hurriedly, his other hand reaching out and tugging on you. 
“Ghost, I can’t.”
“Why can’t you?” His lips are moving over your jaw, his hands still pulling on you. 
“You’re healing.” 
Scoffing, he leans over the side of the bed, hands securing themselves to your lower back and upper thigh. He then hauls you forward, leaning down so he can hoist you up onto his lap.
“Oh!” 
“I go back into the field next week.” He grunts out, now looking up at you. “I’ll be fine, sweetheart.”
“Ghost, I -”
“You know my name?” He asks, his rough, baritone voice demanding your attention. 
And suddenly, you feel extremely fucking small. Your legs slide forward and down, straddling him. Quietly, you squeak out, “Yes.” 
“Say it.” 
Leaning forward, you embrace the excitement of being on top of him. Your hands return to hold his face, and he lets you. Bringing yourself in close, you look into his eyes. 
“Simon.” 
“That’s right.” Comes his breathy exhale, leaning in to close the small gap between the two of you. 
And then Simon’s hand is on the back of your head, pushing you further into him. His other lands on your hip, fingers curling around your flesh. He smells like cigarettes and cologne, tastes like mint and tobacco. And you overtly, eagerly, wholeheartedly, welcome him. 
“Closer to me,” Simon grumbles, the hand on your hip curling around your lower back. He pulls you until you’re flush against his chest, your breasts pushing up against his clean bandages. 
“Simon,” 
He groans into your mouth when you use his name, repeatedly moving his lips over your own. Your legs press tightly to the outsides of his thighs, holding him close to your body. And when he feels your hips shift against him, when he hears your soft, delicate moan, he decides to slide his tongue into your mouth. He licks inside, rubbing the wet muscle over your own. Moaning wantonly, it echoes into his throat, the hand on your head sliding down to hold your jaw open. The way he moves against your mouth is almost overwhelming, full of passion and lust and a particular sense of need. 
“You wanna take this off for me?” His accent is making you melt. “Can you do that for me, love?” 
Tugging impatiently on your shirt, those frosty eyes look into your own with a look of utter desperation. But also control. Ghost was always in control. 
Nodding, you reach down, finding the edges of your longsleeve shirt and slipping it up and over your head. 
“Oh…” He moans - Ghost fucking moans. His head immediately dips down to the luscious space between your breasts, mouth finding your skin. 
“Oh,” It comes as a complete surprise, him surging down to kiss you here. “Simon…”
Fuck, you’ve wanted to do this since you met him. You both have. 
His mouth drags along the curves of your chest, and you’re surprised when they’re followed by tender kisses. And then his hands drop, groping your ass. 
“I want you.” He growls against your breasts, nipping at the soft slopes of them. “What do you want, love?” 
“I want you, Simon.” Nodding quickly, your hands slide back up to his face. In your hurried state you accidentally move the fabric of his mask just a bit, and his hands come flying up to your forearms as soon as it happens. 
“Don’t take it off.” It’s a firm boundary, a stern warning. His head lifts, too, eyes staring menacingly into you. 
“I wouldn’t, I won’t.” He looks at you almost skeptically. “I respect your privacy.” 
When he doesn’t budge, you wiggle on top of him. “Please. Simon, I wouldn’t ever do that to you.” 
Slowly, his hands leave your forearms, loosening their grasp. He’s deciding to trust you. 
One of those meaty hands falls to your chest, still holding your gaze while he cups you. The other rises to your neck, fingers curling around the back to pull you in again. This time, though, he doesn’t return to your lips. This time, he goes to your neck. Rolling your head to the side, you let him, feeling Simon’s teeth scrape along your skin. He’s feeling every inch of you that he can, hands falling to your ass when he feels you move over him. With a firm grasp, he urges you forward and back, grinding your covered crotch over his own. And while he’s busy exploring you, you take this opportunity to explore him. 
Delicately, your fingertips slide down his face, down the chorded muscles along his neck, landing on his sculpted shoulders and then moving to his biceps. When you squeeze the thick meat of his arms, he groans, smirking mischievously against you. With your nails scraping lightly over his taut skin, they quickly find his back, gently scratching him. His muscles are flexing, damn near all of them. He’s so worked up with you like this on top of him. And he’s still moving you, shoving your hips over his crotch and manhandling you in the softest way he knows how. He’s strong, but he’s gentle with you. 
The length of him is palpable beneath his thin shorts, settling right into your covered folds. And it makes you moan, makes your breaths pick up and your center pulse. The air is thick with arousal, the room lit dimly in the soft, yellow hue of your small lamp. His breaths are hot, fanning across your face in humid and heavy wafts. But then he stops, taking a breath. And for some reason, your sass decides to fill this brief, empty space. 
“So,” Sighing, you’re also working to catch your breath. “Does this mean you think I’m pretty?” 
He chuckles, that beautiful smile making itself known. “Does this mean you like my muscles?”
“I love your muscles.” Wiggling even closer to him, you grin, sucking in a tight and excited breath. Your one hand then slides down his chest, his abs, curling around to hold his hip, your thumb just barely brushing his pelvis. 
“Yeah? Even when you’re sewing ‘em up?” He asks, that deliciously rich accent making you flutter inside. 
“You can’t do that again.” Shaking your head, your hands move to hold his face. It’s a tender act. “You can’t scare us like that again.” 
That night, you swear you started to see the light fade out of his eyes, and that, well… that was a first for you. You saved Simon’s life. 
“You care about me, eh?” He replies in the cockiest voice.
“Your team cares about you.” Eyes flickering down to the bandages on his chest, you then say, “And yeah, maybe I do, too.” 
Simon’s body flexes beneath you, hips rutting up into your own. And now, it’s his turn to hold your face in his hands. He lifts your jaw, making you look at him. 
“Hey, don’t worry about that now.” 
“Are you okay?” Eyes darting back up to his, they’re filled with concern from the memories of that day. “With me sitting like this on you?” 
He gives you a cocky grin. “I’m just fine, sweetheart. Don’t you worry about me. I’m a big boy, remember?” 
This makes you smirk, one hand finding its way to his pelvis with much more confidence than before. “Is that right?” 
“That’s right.” He nods, keeping that gorgeous grin. “Think you wanna take it?”
Breathing out a small laugh, you give your head a single shake. “I never knew you wanted to fuck me so bad.” 
“You never noticed the things I’ve said to you?”
“No, I noticed. I just thought… maybe it was harmless flirting.” 
At this, his head tilts, eyes boring into your kind orbs. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me harmless in my entire life.” 
“Yeah, you’re one scary motherfucker.” Leaning in to kiss him, he accepts it with a heated moan. “And I find that sexy as hell.” 
“Well, you said you like fixing bones.” He’s feeling desperate for you at this point; it’s like you won’t stop teasing him “Hop on this one, then.”
“Oh my god, you really are like every other fucking guy.” But you’re already reaching for the bottom of your sports bra, slipping it off your torso in one go. 
“God damn.” Large hands instantly return to your breasts, cupping and weighing your tits in his palms. His chest dips dramatically from releasing such a heavy breath, leaning in to kiss one of your delicate peaks. It’s firm and wet, the repeated press of his lips. And it wouldn’t be so overwhelming if he wasn’t practically making out with your tits.
Seeing your naked form for the first time sets his own alight. He always knew you were a sexy little thing, and now, he’s got first hand proof. Your curves look delicious, and if he weren’t in a tiny medical bed, he’d lay you down to lick them. 
“You want me?” He doesn’t expect this sort of response, his surprise going tenfold when he feels you reach down between your bodies. 
“Oh,” He releases a tight breath, feeling you run a finger over his erection. 
Staring into your eyes, he gives you an almost predatory gaze. “You know I do.”
Easily, you slide your shorts and panties to the side, revealing your delicate sex to him, though he can only barely see it. And then you’re reaching down, fingers curling over the band of his shorts to pull him out. When you do, he releases a sound you’ve never heard from him before, his jaw hanging low. He’s long and firm, crimson at the head and already leaking. The pulsations rocking through his cock are, at this point, an almost painful sensation; and when you look down, you grin. Letting the length of him rest on his lower abdomen, you move yourself so you can slide your glistening lips over him.
Simon hisses at the contact, strong hands cementing themselves to your hips. But he doesn’t stop you from moving. If anything, he only encourages you to. 
“You get off on this?” He suddenly asks, the feeling of your slippery center sliding against him making his head spin and his insides tense. “Fucking your superior?”
“Baby,” You laugh, shaking your head while continuing to move over him. “I’m on the med. team, you’re not my superior.” Taking a breath, you reach out, grabbing his jaw and lowering your voice to speak. “But you did get one thing right. I do want to fuck you.” 
Before he can say anything, you’re lifting yourself, his throbbing tip prodding at your entrance. You hold his gaze, an unexpected moan drifting from your lips when you finally begin to feel him. 
“Fuck,” He grits out, fingers digging into your sides and urging you down. “Come on, precious. You can take it.” 
Sliding down only a few mere inches, you wince. Holding onto his shoulders, your fingernails dig into his skin, scratching harshly at the firm muscles all along him. He’s bigger than you’d imagined him to be. His girth is wider than you’ve ever had, and when you reach down to feel him you quickly discover he also isn’t lacking in length. 
His military voice then comes out, that stern, commanding tone. “Focus - hey, eyes on me.” Irises snapping up to his, you do as you’re told. “That’s a good girl.” Jesus Christ, you didn’t expect a single ounce of praise to come from him.
Simon’s dominant hand then slides down, the pad of his thumb finding the reddened nub at the peak of your sex. Your hips jolt when he presses the thick digit against you, but with his free hand on your back, he brings you in. He applies pressure, prompting you to lean on him, his mouth seeking out your nipples once again. Slipping his tongue out and over your skin, it forces you to whine, feeling your hips rock involuntarily against him. With the stimulation coming from his thumb and tongue, you find yourself relaxing, resting on the weight of him. 
“Feels good, yeah?” 
Your fingers find the back of his head, your own dropping back. “Yes…” 
It’s overwhelming and sexy as all fucking hell. Simon can see the marks he’s left on your neck, shoulder and chest, and he grins, knowing they’ll be there in the morning even if he won’t be able to see them. He doesn’t stop the movement of his thumb, keeping the same amount of pressure as he swirls little circles over your sensitive clit. His mouth is sucking on you, too, his tongue running over your nipples in wet and passionate swipes. And altogether, it works like a charm, lubing you up enough for him to slide entirely inside. 
“Simon.” 
“You’ve got it, yeah… there we go…” The only hand that moves is the one that was touching your clit, fingers now attaching themselves to your hip once you’re entirely seated on him. 
“Fuck me,” You’re clinging to his shoulders, both arms wrapping around his neck. He’s removed himself from your tits, resting his face in the slope of your shoulder, just beside your throat. 
He’s searing hot and filling you completely, his tip seated deep in your guts as you pulse around him violently. And Simon’s aware of his size, so he waits for you to make the first move. And he snuggles into you while he does, resting in this brief lull. 
Feeling another person surrounding his body like this brings out a sensation from the depths of his heart, a feeling he hasn’t experienced in genuine years, decades, even. He feels like he can relax in your embrace, like he can let go with you. 
“Oh, god.” Head dropping back, you shift slightly, beginning to move. 
“Yes,” He encourages you, reaching up to hold your neck. “That’s it.” And then he pulls, bringing you down to him. Your lips meet in a small clash, tongues colliding as soon as you make contact. 
This entire event awakens something inside of you. It’s like he’s consuming you, taking over your body and every part of your mind. And you’ve felt like this for weeks, months; you’ve ached for him. At night you’ve touched yourself to the thought of him, and during the day, you’ve dreamt about him. It was so hard to be in his presence, knowing you couldn’t have him, that he probably didn’t even want you in the first place. But he does; he wants you just as badly as you want him. 
Simon sways his body with you, leaning back against the head of the bed. He uses this slight change in position as leverage to shove his hips up into you, giving you small and shallow thrusts. But he lets you do most of the work, grinning while admiring the way in which you find your pace. 
“You’re a tight thing, aren’t you?” His voice is gruff, eyes lowering to stare at the space where you’re repeatedly connecting. And then they furrow, mouth dropping open when he finally witnesses you lifting and lowering your hips. “And look how well you’re taking me…” 
“You’re… so fucking big.” Lowering your head, you then offer a half smirk, shaking your head at him. “Guess you really do have reason to be cocky, huh?” 
“Damn right, and I’m glad you know it.” 
“Jesus - fuck!” The first word is said through a scoff, the second through a high yelp. 
“You feel like makin’ fun of me again?” Simon then challenges, having lifted his feet and planted them directly on the edge of the bed. He uses this leverage to punch himself up into you, huffing out a sharp breath when he feels you fall onto his chest.
“Fuck, baby - I’m sorry.” You immediately lift yourself up, looking down at his bandages. “Are you alright?”
The fact that you’ve so easily been able to call him baby makes Simon smile, his teeth even showing for the first time that you’ve ever seen.
“You need to stop asking me that.” He says in that deeply, gritty tone. And then he shoves you forward again, knees high in the air as he lets you rest over his chest. 
Your arms slide around his neck, clinging to him as he begins to shove himself up into you. Sucking in a deep breath, he grunts out beside your face, his arms wrapping around your naked torso. He’s starting to feel sweaty, sticky, his skin warm and glistening. And at this point he’s bouncing you on his cock, your ass slapping down onto his pelvis with every move. He let you have your fun; now, he’s fucking you. 
“Oh my fucking god,” You’re trying desperately to keep up to move yourself back against him, but he doesn’t allow it. He’s punching the breath from your lungs, one hand sliding up your back to hold your head. 
He lets out a breathless laugh. “Are you alright?”
“S-Shut up, Ghost.” Comes your stuttered response, now gasping from how deep he’s hitting.
“Uh-uh,” He tuts, “Say my name, sweetheart. Sounds so good comin’ outta that pretty little mouth.”
This makes you laugh, a small hiccup of a sound due to his intense movements beneath you. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, wanna hear you say it when we fuck.” 
“Oh, so this is going to happen again?” You tease, feeling his groans vibrate through his chest. Jesus, he’s so sturdy. 
Leaning forward, he grabs a fistful of your ass, growling into your ear, “I damn sure want it to.” 
You take advantage of his closeness, turning your head to capture his lips. “You’re so fucking deep.” 
“Yeah? You want me to stop?” He whispers in return against your lips.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” 
At this point, he’s panting beneath you, sliding down a little further on the bed. You move with him, still holding onto his firm body with a wild desperation. And he keeps your lips on him, shoving his tongue inside your mouth while keeping his brutal pace.
If you were dripping before it’s nothing compared to now. You’re leaking down his shaft, the creaminess of your arousal coating him entirely. And he can feel it; it’s making his eyes roll back into his head. 
“You’re gonna make me cum, squeezin’ around me like that.” 
One of your hands lowers, moving down to hold onto his bicep, and then his forearm. Turning your head to the side, you smile, ignoring his comment while you breathe out lightly, “I love your tattoos, baby.”
“You just love praisin’ me, don’t you?” In two seconds, that tattooed forearm rises, hand grabbing your face. “Bring those pretty eyes back to me.” And when you look into those endlessly deep eyes of his, he grits out sternly, “Eyes. On. Me.” 
“Simon,” It’s a small whine, one uttered when you feel him strike gold inside. “Please make me cum.” Your head drops to his shoulder, and what he does neck surprises you. He kisses your fucking cheek.
“I can do that for you.” 
As if things couldn’t become more intense, he takes it up a notch, ramming into you and forcing your face into the crook of his neck. His hand on the back of your head holds you there, and when you bite into his neck, he groans into the nighttime air. 
“Yesss, baby, don’t stop. Oh my god, please don’t stop.” He’s so big beneath you, his muscles bulging against your naked chest. And he revels in the feeling of your soft tits pressing against him, your beautiful body bouncing as it gets fucked by him. 
“Fuck me,” Comes his gasped out curse, muttering, “Such a good pussy.” 
“Fu-uck,” 
He’s pounding against that delicate spot that’s making you go dumb, your arms and thighs beginning to shake around him.
“G-Ghost, I’m…” 
“Say my name, say it again.” His voice is deep and thick, stuttering a bit. “One more time for me.” His thighs are flexing beneath your ass, one arm wrapped around your back and the other gripping the flesh on your hip.
It’s overwhelming, the feeling shoving its way through your body, coursing through your veins. The excitement of it all is something you haven’t felt in too long of a time, if ever before. Swallowing, you gather yourself enough to do as he says, once again, uttering his name. 
Immediately after, he’s cumming, hips breaking their pace and length throbbing inside you. His forceful shoves against your g-spot make you crumble above him, onto him, your body shaking. The way you’re holding onto him makes him feel like he can do anything, makes him think you feel safe with him. And you do. The world could be crumbling and still, you’d cling to him, knowing he’d hold you in his arms. 
Quivering limbs press against him, your body going a bit numb from the intensity of it all. Your center pulses around his girth, squeezing him tightly while you wash him in your arousal. You can feel his, too, the milky ropes shooting into you, and you revel in the fact that your body has made his feel this good. He’s breathing harshly beside you, pectorals flexing against your naked chest. You’ve never heard him groan so forcefully, not even when he’s out working. And that makes you smile, knowing you bring those noises out of him. A blissful smile crosses your face, body rolling in waves as you experience your own high above him. 
“Fuck me,” His accent is thick, coating the shell of your ear. He’s petting at your hair, body beginning to slump down on the mattress beneath him. “You okay there, princess?”
You’re quiet, still trying desperately to find your breath. Swallowing, you nod, turning your head to kiss his throat, breathing heavily against him. And while his body relaxes, he holds yours above him, urging you to do the same. 
“Maybe I should get hurt a little more often,” He looks over, pointer finger curling under your chin, gently lifting you to look at him. “If it means seein’ you.” 
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Part Two
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coldbronzemoon · 1 year
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Danny Fenton, Totally Mortal Hero Consultant (DPxDC)
Snippet for an AU I'll probably never fully write where Danny takes a job as a consultant for the Justice League to help with ghost and demon bullshit. It's a pretty good cash flow to help him with college, after all, and very flexible hours.
He just claims all his knowledge comes from his parents. Unfortunately, the JL has caught word of the elusive yet active hero Phantom, and want Danny to help them meet and assess him. Whoops.
Over the phone, Tucker sighed. “Good Christ, Danny, why do you keep doing this?”
“I’m not doing anything,” Danny said immediately. He winced at the vague sound of screaming below. Demons sucked. “I didn’t know the JL thing was gonna have me finding Phantom. How would I? They were talking about tracking down powerful ghosts, I was assuming Ancients!”
Tucker sighed again, which was really quite unfair of him. “Mhm. Well, Fenton Catcher?”
“Probably not. They know me pretty well at this point, and unlike what Sam says I can be professional. I’d confuse them with the… uh…”
“Stoner shtick?”
There was more screaming happening, but judging from the pitch it was a demon screaming this time. Danny checked the situation. Yep, demon getting their ass kicked. He didn’t need to get involved with a blaster. Yet.
Instead, he scowled at his phone. “Stop calling it that.”
“You’re gonna tell me flanny Danny wasn’t a pitch-perfect stoner, huh? With the chill vibing and the dopey look?”
“I hate you.”
“Love you too, bud.” 
The sound of a clacking keyboard that had underlined their conversation stopped. “But seriously, Danny, what the hell are you gonna do with this?”
“Uh, lie, probably,” Danny said, because it was very likely.
“Alright, smartass, what are you going to do when that lie backfires on you like literally every other one does?”
“That’s when I start gaslighting, gatekeeping, and girlbossing, babe.”
He had a hard time hearing Tucker’s distant groan of “Why am I still your friend?” on account of the sudden explosion. Danny checked again. Hm. Demon dude had a nasty fire thing going on.
Danny switched on his Fenton water gun—holy water included!-- and shot the demon in the face. They let out a cracking hiss of rage, but dropped the fire spell thing. He waited for them to stop looking around wildly for the culprit for a moment. 
He went back to the call. “‘Cause you loooove me, Tuck. From the bottom of your twice-dead heart.”
“Unfortunately,” Tucker deadpanned.
Danny just cackled. It was lost amongst the sound of supernatural bullshit below.
“Anyway, I’m still figuring out my plan A, honestly. Might bring in gray-man?”
“Amorpho’s an asshole, though. He’ll ruin the whole thing by taking the opportunity to shift into a JL member for a bit.”
Hm. True.
“Yeah, but he’s the main guy I know with that power set.”
“Ask after Desiree?” He could hear the immediate distaste in Tucker’s voice. “Ugh, pretend I didn’t say that. That’s worse than Amorpho.”
“It’s awful,” Danny agreed easily. 
Desiree was actually pretty alright nowadays, mostly on account of Danny remembering the last couple minutes of Aladdin and wishing she could refuse wishes she didn’t want to grant. That had made her happy enough to stop actively picking fights. 
Unfortunately, spending the entirety of one’s afterlife twisting the wording of wishes to their worst form made it hard to stop being an asshole. Who knew! So getting Desiree to split him in two for like a week had a 50/50 chance of fucking up his work relationship with the literal league of superheroes irrevocably. And this was his main cash flow right now.
So, no Desiree, no siree.
“Come up with something better then, asshole.”
Danny hummed and, since the heroes below were focused on the demon, lifted up a little and did a thoughtful back flip. What to do, what to do…?
Oh!
“My cousin!” he exclaimed.
“What cous—? Oh, Ellie.”
“Yeah, Ellie, Tuck. Which other cousins do I have?”
Tucker scoffed. “You literally have that whole Nightingale thing going on through your dad?”
Danny couldn’t help the face he made. The remaining Nightingales were worse than his parents somehow. “The Nightingales don’t count.”
“You can’t just say they don’t count.”
“I can say that, actually, and I will. They’re, like, cousins through my great-great-great-grandpa anyway.”
“Isn’t there a fight going on over there? Should you be shooting someone?”
 “Yeah, probably.”
He peaked down through the window once more. The heroes must have gotten the first demon to leave while he was talking, because the horned demon fighting them now was a truly unfortunate shade of yellow-green instead of purple. Or maybe it had transformed for some reason? They had it about as in-hand as the other one, though, so Danny definitely didn’t need to go down there. He shot the maybe-new demon in the face real quick.
“Anyway, Ellie can totally help out, she’s been practicing with changing up her looks. She’s also more, uh, malleable than me, what with her situation and all. Looking fully like Phantom shouldn’t be hard.”
Tucker hummed. “She’d try to embarrass you though.”
“Yeah, that’s a problem.” Danny spun in place. “I could bribe her?”
“With what? Her life doesn’t involve needing much cash.”
“She doesn’t get out to the Zone very much. Not many of the inhabited places, anyway. I can promise her the weird apple things Dora’s been growing with Sam’s help, she loved those.”
“If you think that’ll work…” Tucker trailed off dubiously.
Danny laughed. “She’s annoying sometimes, but she’s not gonna fuck over my job if I ask her not to. I’ll just bribe her extra hard for resisting the temptation to mock me.”
“Fair enough.” The clacking of keys resumed. “I’ve really gotta pay attention now, someone’s trying to stop me from getting into this database. Someone half-decent, actually, did they upgrade? Hm. Make sure no one died, yeah?”
“They’re alive. Bye, Tuck,” Danny said, and ended the call.
He shoved his phone back into his jacket pocket and made his way down the stairs. The fight outside he had been stationed for was basically over—Captain Marvel and Green Lantern (Danny was pretty sure he had accidentally learned the dude’s actual name at some point, but hell if he could remember)—had pulled out the magic restraints one of the other consultants had handed out.
That had probably been Constantine. Ugh. Constantine. Dude could stand to lighten up a little; skulking and smoking all the time wasn’t the base state of someone enjoyable to be around. Then again, Danny knew he annoyed the shit out of some of the league with his own attitude, so he maybe shouldn’t talk. But at least he was annoying with a smile!
Case in point: Danny grinned at the heroes. “Got it handled?”
“Suppose so,” said the Green Lantern, “though a little more help would have been nice.”
Captain Marvel was too busy getting in a minor tussle with the demon to say anything either way.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m like, pretty mortal,” Danny said. “I’m not fucking with demons right where they can hit me. And I did shoot him!”
Green Lantern rolled his eyes, but admitted the point. Danny cheerfully flipped him off anyway.
“I’ll be heading out, then, the hellmouth this guy crawled out of is like three miles away.” Captain Marvel said, hauling the handcuffed demon over his shoulders like a very angry backpack.
“Oh, one more for the road!” 
Danny hit the demon with a final water gun shot. Hissing and scrunching their face like a cat, the demon tried to lunge at him. It wasn’t very successful. Weirdly non-verbal for a demon, who usually had to talk to make deals and steal mortal souls, but Danny wouldn’t judge. Might be a minor demon. A really basic imp? Who knew.
“Stop being a little bitch and you won’t get spray-bottled, asshole,” Danny chided.
With a loud laugh, Captain Marvel sped away.
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