Fuck buddies with Ghost who tells you it means nothing, doesn’t want anything more than sex, but your apartment is the last place he visits before being sent off on an assignment.
‘Jus’ need somethin’ to tide me over, yeah dove?’
Fuck buddies with Ghost who tells you it means nothing, doesn’t want anything more than sex, but when he’s away, his rugged and calloused hands don’t feel like yours, can’t get off unless he pictures you.
Above him. Below him. On your knees. On your back. In your mouth. Buried in your cunt.
Fuck buddies with Ghost who tells you it means nothing, doesn’t want anything more than sex, but your apartment is the first place he visits when the mission is finished, doesn’t even bother going home.
And you answer, despite it being three in the morning.
“There’s my girl.” He breathes. Relieved. Dropping his bags on the floor before lunging forward to cup your face in his palms.
The claim makes you whine quietly, digging your fingertips into his wrists, arching on your tippy toes to meet his lips halfway. It’s ravenous, leaves your breath ragged, and lips thrumming with swelling blood.
He hoists you in his arms, burrowing his hands under your thighs and ass, pinching the flesh so hard it’ll bruise, but he can’t help it. He’s greedy. Selfish. Hasn’t quite coaxed himself down from the harsh realities of being ‘Ghost.’
“Ah—Simon,” You whimper, huffing hot air against his lips, “You’re hurting me.”
“Sorry, baby,” He smooths his hands, petting the backs of your thighs, “I just-”
The ‘missed you’ dies on his tongue, stops it from rolling off and filling the empty space between the two of you, but you know.
That night when he asks you to repeat him, tell him you’re all his, you don’t respond like usual. He tries his best to coax it out of your pretty lips orgasm after orgasm because he needs to hear it, but you don’t give him the pleasure.
Fuck buddies with Ghost who tells you it means nothing, doesn’t want anything more than sex, so he has no other option but to accept it because you’re not his. The lack of acknowledgment eats at his skin, brutal talons gnawing at his flesh when you slowly stop responding to his texts.
Shows up at your doorstep anyway because you don’t get to tell him when this stops. When you answer the door, you’re all dolled up, a tight little skirt hugging your figure, lip gloss smeared on your lips like you have somewhere to be other than on his cock.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, glaring at him, “I’m busy.”
You frown, “I have a date.”
He snorts, pushing past you, making a show of taking off his boots and placing them next to yours, has no intention of leaving.
“Simon,” You sigh, closing the door behind you, “I don’t have time for this right now. He’ll be here any minute.”
The statement alone pinches his temples with irritation, but that’s when he sees it, one small hickey adorned on your neck, just below your ear. His vision narrows, tunneling red, nudging you against the wall with one swift movement, tilting your jaw to get a better look at it.
“The fuck is this?” He snarls, runs his thumb over the bruise, and makes your breath hitch slightly.
“Nothing.” You mutter quietly.
“Your little date give you this? Huh?” He grits through clenched teeth, grip tightening on your jaw, drawing dimples in your skin.
“None of your business.” You spit back, but it’s far too gentle to have any real bite like it always does with him, pup with baby canines.
Fuck buddies with Ghost who tells you it means nothing, doesn’t want anything more than sex, but he seethes at the idea of another man inside of you, another man marking you as theirs when you’re his.
Sinks his teeth around the stupid mark, dragging sharp fangs against your delicate flesh, and sucks the skin viciously. Covers the ugly bruise with his own claim.
Fuck buddies with Ghost who tells you it means nothing, doesn’t want anything more than sex, but he presses you right up against your front door, so your date can hear him fucking you in two when he comes to pick you up.
‘Can yer little boyfriend fuck you like this? Huh, baby? Did he know jus’ how you like it?’
Fucks you messy and pretty, until your cheeks are tear-stained and your breaths are wrecked, hiccuping over your moans that’s he’s so mean, so cruel, asking you to say you’re his when he doesn’t even have the courage to say he missed you.
‘Be a good girl f’me, yeah? Tell me you’re all mine.’
And when you do finally say it, he carries you to your bed, fucks you slow and deliberate like he always does, like he really means it, and whispers the words against your skin.
@bbygirl9 @ailanbutterfly @amberbalcom14 @h0lydrag0ns
