A Ghost Lives Here

21, 18+ blog he/whatever writing about gay people touching each other

[iforgotwhatstopmeans]

#intropost lmao

This is an adult blog with probably fairly fucked up content, I don’t want any minors in my yard 👎

I fucking hate generative AI and so should you, if you use chatgpt or anything like it you should reevaluate your life choices and stay off of my blog

I plan to write Whatever about Whoever Whenever I want, any disgruntled man or men I can put into Situations

[tankhall]

[iforgotwhatstopmeans]

Simon “this is for your own good.” Riley, pressing the gloved hand over your mouth harder into you when he feels your teeth dragging along his skin through the fabric, shoving his bare hand down the layers of gear he couldn’t be asked to take off of you.

He’ll ignore the warmth that spreads through him when your breath picks up, and if his hearing wasn’t so bad he’d swear he heard you calling his name. He’d be meaner if he had it in him, closing his eyes as he pressed his lips to the back of his own hand, just far away enough to hurt.

[iforgotwhatstopmeans]

Cowboy!Bruce who’s reminded of clark every time an animal gets just out of his grasp, effectively defeated by some anxious thing small enough to fit in his palm.

“Christ.” He dusted the dirt from his unsuccessful efforts onto his jeans, sweat dripping down his forehead as he watched the duckling fall over itself to get away from him.

Even when he’d prove himself tough; heartbeat under his thumb as he gently brought the bird back to the coop, he couldn’t help but think about what he’d give to hand over that power to someone else.

His own heart beating under bared teeth, letting some pretty choir boy in a suit show him how to be vulnerable through slotted barn door moonlight.

[iforgotwhatstopmeans]

Boxer!Ghost taking all of his energy out in the ring, blood and sweat burning his eyes and knuckles, breath heavy as he watched his opponent tap out. All just before coming home pliant enough for u to manhandle, a firm hand pressing the side of his face into the floor and the now dizzying metallic taste that grounded him in the fight

[iforgotwhatstopmeans]

Simon Riley who forgets how the sun feels on his skin, cold water hitting him like it was raining just to prove he didn’t deserve the warmth. He got used to it in time, finding solace in the dark clouds and the way it fell on everyone else, too. He earned this, dirt and blood he’d have to close his eyes and focus to trace back to anything falling to the ground undistinguishable from the darkened pavement.