Toji Fushiguro who makes you lock your own ankles around his neck.
You’re a biiiiig shit talker, love talking about how you’ll “drain him dry” and “make him cry tonight” but as soon as he’s half way inside, as soon as you feel that fat mushroom cockhead giving a messy smooooch to your sticky insides you’re squirming. Trying to back out and pushing at his happy trail, that only makes him snicker, “The fuck are you doing doll?”
You suck in the drool threatening to leave you mouth, hands gripping onto the sheets for dear life, “F-Fuck you, mmph- just-“
And he takes the words right out of your mouth, giving your cunt the best gut punch with his throbbing member you’d ever get in your life, slamming into you with his girth. Filling your hole to the brim. Tojis head lulls to the side, jet black hair swaying with every jackhammer into your tight walls, “Heh- what was that baby?”
You can only moan out, feeling the curve of him while he rolls his hips into you, the thwack of his balls against your gushing pussy, mind getting dizzy at the way he’s fucking you. You mewl out, that bottom lip quivering, “Tojii-“
“—No mama, what were you just sayin?” He can’t help the stupid smirk on his face, canines showing only fucking into you harder, faster— “Thought- hah- you said you’d make me cry t’night, nngh- wring me dry. But from the looks of it-“ he thrusts into you again, deeper, and he can see it, the way the way your brown eyes are blown out, glossy, “You’re ‘bout to cry.”
Toji pushes your knees up to your earlobes, drilling into your spongey g-spot that has you hiccuping, tears spilling out, “You’re too- aaangh jii- you’re too biiig!”
He condescendingly coos, “Awww, you poor thing, you’re poor, poor cunt.” He gives you a sloppy kiss on your lips, feeling the way your gummy walls sucks him further in, your arousal coating his strawberry red cock. “She’s begging for me tho mama.”
The older man shudders and the thought, letting out a grunt, “Wanna make it all better, -shit baby- then put your feet around my neck.”
You’re already sobbing out, your hands slipping from your feet and grabbing onto his beefy biceps. Crescent moons appearing in his skin, You can’t, really you can’t.
“No mama, I think you can.” He lets out a chuckle followed by a moan.
That was out loud?
“Use that empty cockdrunk brain ‘f yours f’me pretty.”
“Fuck Toji, mmmph- aaangh- Toji, fuck!” you don’t even realize what you’re spewing out at this point, hooking your ankles around his neck. Your legs are shaking, fucking squealing when you feel his weepy tip knock against your cervix. You’ve got the man cursing up a storm, holding you tight in the fucking pretzel fold he’s got you in, your sticky slick making it’s was down the both of your pubic hairs. He’s delirious in your heat, squeezing your plush thighs, while you feel every piston into your cervix, brushing past your sweet spots.
And Tojis fucking seething with the way he’s pounding into you, head resting in the crook of your neck, licking up your skin, “Shit mama, y-you might actually drain me dry- mmmck- fuck- you’re squeeze me so fuckin good. Goddamn baby.”
cw: 18+ mdni, smut but fluff, slight overstím, check in, squirting, d/ş dynamics
And I mean fuck, how many times had you cum on Toji’s cock already— you were fucking drooling, tears prickling your eyes and that tight knot feeling starting to build in your stomach again. But it was different, way too different that you could feel the electricity hitting your brain, the way your breast bounced everytime you plopped back down Tojis aching length, stars in your eyes—
You hopped up on your feet in one swift motion and a moan, falling to your knees because of your wobbling legs. And you can hear the silence in the room as Toji stares at you in slight shock, blinking while staring at you who’s on the floor trying to take small and quiet breaths. Then a snort comes out, covering his mouth as the low rumble of laughter starts bellowing from his stomach.
You sniffle, “Don’t- don’t laugh Toji.”
But the ends of his canines are already showing, eyes crinkling together, “ ‘M not, ‘m not, swear mama,” he gently grabs your wrist, helping you off the floor and laying you on the bed. He tilts his head to the side, observing, taking you in, sweat making your skin glisten in the warm light of the lamp close by, curls every which way, “You alright? Need some water?”
But he’s already decided for you, drinking some front he spare bottle himself then feeding it to you. You take deep breaths, eyes still glossy, bottom lip wobbling. Toji so gentle with you, course he is, been rough with you all night, you deserve to be loved on sweetly. He gets between your thighs, letting his rough hands glide down your flesh, “Talk t’me doll, what’s wrong, huh? Gotta talk t’me or I won’t know.”
It only makes you embarrassed, heat burning through you while you find somewhere else to look, other than his eyes. “‘S stupid.” You say in a hushed voice.
“Then we’ll stop-“
“-No toji!” You whine out, gripping his forearm. He only sighs, hand caressing your cheek, “Then speak to me baby.”
You inhale a shaky breath, “Was just- just scared.”
“Scared?” He repeats, he searches your face now, brows knitting together, “scared ‘f me?”
You quickly shake your head, “No! No- just- felt good… but it was strange- I never felt like that before, so I-I got scared.”
Toji can’t even hide the damn smile on his face, you’re too cute for your own good. His right hand goes up to yout hip, the other tilting your head to look into his emerald green eyes. “Shit like that’s normal, nothin t’be afraid of baby. Especially when you’re with me. I’ll work that out.”
His cups your face, let’s the pad of his thumb rub the apple of your cheek over and over, “But you get scared like that again just use our safe word, what’s it’s there for. I’ll stop at the drop of a hat. Don’t have to run, okay? You’re the boss here.”
You nod in response, heart still pounding out of your chest. Toji lifts your hand, pressing it against his thunking heart, letting you know he feels the same as you. Worried, but here, in love with you. Then he lets you hand it trial down his toned abs, lower, to his dark happy trail, eyes flicking back up to you, “Wanna continue?”
“Yeah.” You shyly say, pretty brown eyes staring up at him.
“Good girl mama.”
He flips you over on your hands and knees with ease, kneading the globes of your ass while pulling you closer, “Gonna take it nice ‘nd slow yeah, don’t even gotta work for it like I’ve been makin you all night.”
You can feel it, the crown of his cock smack against your Pearl then through your swollen folds, rimming your gushing hole with his pre that makes you mewl, “mmh- Toji!”
“Desperate fuckin thing, even when I’ve been fucking you all night, still need more.” His breath hitches, sliding himself in your warmth with ease. His head lulls to the side at the way you clamp down on him, biting his lip while he peers down at how he filling your fat cunt, your mixed cum already sticking to his pubes. “Allll you gotta do is lay there ‘nd be pretty, I got you.”
You don’t even have the words to say anything, jaw slack as he starts to thrust himself inside you. Slow, but hard, squeeze your hip as he watches your ass clap, clap, clap again this pelvis. You keen so prettily, clawing the sheets, “O-oh- aangh- my gooood Toji!”
He’s picks up the pace, strokes mean and intentional, heavy and full balls slapping against your dripping cunt while he aims his head against your gooey sweet spots. He’s relentless, watching the way you twitch, your legs starting to shake, “Shit, so good f’me doll, take it so god damn well. Huh?”
You’re eyes shoot open, that feeling in your stomach building again, right, different, you don’t even realize how much your fucking chanting Toji’s name, reaching behind you for relief, but he only takes your hand, interlocking your fingers and holding you still, as your waist, fixing your fucking arch while he drills into you.
“Toj- Toji I can’t- fuck- I can’t! I can’t- ‘s nnngh-“
He scuffing, “Yeah you can, just means you’re gonna squirt.” Just as intended.
And his other hand comes around to your front, finding your pulsing little nub through the thick of juices, flicking it before rubbing those large circles with the pads of his fingers. Then faster small one, watching your hips buck, a heavy sob coming out of your mouth, “S too much Toji!”
“‘S okay, told you you could handle it, ‘nd you can. just feel it, hah- fuck- let it happen.”
He thrusts are hips into you are frantic, matching the exact way he runs your poor cunt before the knot in your stomach pops! Water squirting out of you while you scream, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You’re fucking soaking the mattress, down Tojis thighs. The older man letting out a throaty groan, Adam’s apple bobbing as he throws his head back. Riding out your own high while his thick ropes of cum hit your gummy and spasming walls.
He pulls out, glops of his cum spilling out. The man can’t help but let out a disheveled chuckle, humming in delight.
“See that doll? Knew you had it in you.”
He gently rolls you out your back, coming down to hold you in his arms. You can feel his lips pecking up your shoulder, you’re still shaking, eyes nodded over. Your arms coming around his neck so he can hold you even closer. He squeezes you, nuzzling his face into your shoulder, “Such a good job f’me, perfect girl.”
But he can’t wait for the next time, only wondering how many times he can make you squirt before you pass out.
a/n: “omg Teddy you’re using this account!” Well yes! Im trying to get my normal ideas out here for once. Lmk what you guys think.
Heian Era!Sukuna is blunt as ever, and doesn’t hesitate you to show his affection, even when he is irritated with you.
“My moon and stars,” he calls you as soon as you enter the large grand hall. He’s sat on the throne, leaning the temple of his head on a meer two finger, “there must be reason why I called for you and you so eagerly ignored me, yes?”
You wants to snicker, he’s needy. Greedy for your time, but you still have things to attend to, making sure the palace is still spik and span. You were head maid, turned future wife- no- Queen of Curses as Sukuna corrects you. The announcement was made two months ago, the wedding pushed back 3 months because of how extravagant it will be.
“What if I wanted a simple wedding?” You asked one day.
There’s a pause, Sukuna doesn’t do simple, he likes the big weddings, loud cheer and dancing and drinking, beautiful decorations- but for you, he would settle, “Extravagantly simple, then my love.”
But instead of lounging around, giving orders on clothes you want, or getting yourself an expensive pet, you’re still… working. Still the kindest head maid anyone in the palace has ever met, still making sure everyone can have time with their family by arranging the clock, still making time for the kids that play as you buy supplies from the market when Sukuna has informed you if you go along again there will be consequences.
Your fiancé doesn’t understand it, spending time not being with him to work. And then today of all days, when it’s been meeting after meeting, granting those favor and killing off others, when he needs his battery recharged of you and desperately, you are no where to be found. Or rather, you kept telling your servant five minutes, who would’ve thought two hours would have gone by?
It’s your mistake.
“My lord, I apologize,” you say your head down, and you hear him come down the steps from his thrown. Brash, heavy footsteps and the rustle of is yukata, the jewelry he wears around his wrists. The massive man lifts your chin to look at him so gently, eyebrows furrowed, “You defy me.”
“I do not defy you my-“ and you catch yourself just in time, the disgruntled look on Sukuna’s face growing, “My Sukuna.”
He lets out a deep hum, right from his gut, taking your hand to stand you on your own feet before dragging you into his large tattooed arms, he groans while nuzzling the curls atop of your head, “Heaven knows only you could do such a thing, leave your future husband to waste time.”
“I do not waste time, the palace needs tending to!” You giggle, patting his toned back.
Sukuna’s lips pure outward, an annoyed groan rumbling from within, he squeezes you tightly once, another one of his 4 hands, cupping your face, “My moon and stars, you do not take our time together seriously.”
This big oaf of a man, lived for so long, has committed acts you will not repeat out of fear alone— is pouting in your arms because he misses you.
“I take it the most serious Kuna,” you finally pull away just enough to get a look at him, he’s all puppy no bite— towards you atleast. “What should we do that you have my attention now, hm?” You smirk.
He scowls, grumbling something incoherent but bringing you in close once more, “Just need you like this my love, God.” He sighs.
You giggle, squeezing him back,feeling his lips give yout temple a tender kiss, “Anything you want Kuna, I’ll give it to you. Trust in me.”
Though you are teasing him ever so lightly, your words are sincere, and it makes Sukuna’s heart pound louder, fearing his cheeks are burning brighter than his sapphire colored eyes.
He grumbles again, “You’re despicable.” A fit of giggles escaping you as you hold each other like you’re the last two people on earth
a/n: and when it’s coooold outside, it’s always warm right hereeee
dude your fics are soo good trust and not just the plot or if there's no plot and just smut lmao but your writing is amazing but if you tried a bit ickier... Especially with Simon and John :*
I always forget there are maga people on tumblr, this doesn’t feel like a website you’d find them on, so to keep them away:
Reblog if your blog is a maga free zone because if it wasn’t clear enough fuck ice, fuck maga, fuck Trump, Fuck Rowling, and fuck all the other bigots I missed
cw: 18+ mdni, dub-con, fáuxcèst, Dad(dy) kïnk, smut and plot, fíngering, hándjob, age gap (20s reader, 40s John), John calls you ‘kid’ , morally gray!John, reader with cooter hair :]
last chapter, masterlist
John is really good at inserting himself in your life.
It's not that you were pushing him out, it's just- having someone so close all the time was- hard to get used to. Drunk words were simply sober thoughts to you that you attempted to ignore and wave off, but John made it known he was genuinely there to stay. Setting rules about how he wants the house and how you both should treat it, putting almost everything that was in the living room in storage and dragging you along with him on a Saturday morning, in a large second hand store he found online, to shop for new furniture.
""Nothin wrong with something a little lived in, right dovie?" He asked and you were tired, naturally, leaning on him because you were in no way an early bird. Neither was John, but he'd rather get it out of the way now than later. When he told you the other day, you rolled your eyes to yourself, such an old man. Cute, yet annoying.
"Nothing is wrong with a little broken in," you yawn, tilting your head up to look at him, the material under the both of your buts can’t even be considered a cushion, “but this couch is shit Price."
It shouldn't be taken as long as it did, an hour and a half to find a good couch, sitting and laying down on all sorts of couches, till you you both agreed on one, and then another thirty because John bargained down the price of the that was already low. He's got that glint in his eye after getting it down for $200, climbing down from the truck and dusting off his hands as he walks up to you, "You probably think I'm sum cheapskate-"
"Oh I do," you hum while leaning against the car, making John chuckle, "It was just $600. Not too bad."
"Yeah? And it was $500 on Facebook market place."
"Then why not get it there?" You scowl, and John traps you in with his large figure, towering over you, too handsome of a smirk on your face it makes butterflies fly in your stomach. "Because I knew I could get it cheaper here." He playfully squeezes your nose together with two fingers and you swat his hands away from you,
"First learning experience with your old man, 'You can always get a better deal somewhere else.' Let's go kid."
And he calls you that, 'kid' "kiddo' more now, you're not sure if it's because he's fond of you or just wants you to have to parental support for once in your life. You just know this man can practically smell it on you for your lack of reliance on him. It's hard for John too, he's used to being Mr. Reliable. Someone always needing or wanting something from him, always ready to get the job done and then there you, who would rather wait in the bus stop in the rain than to be let down or be held up by five minutes. Stubborn, John likes that.
But it's the small moments you gained over the the month of your mother being gone, quickly rushing home from work or classes, managing to whip something up and nestling yourself on the couch to watch some shitty show at 7 pm that you both spend the commercial breaks talking shit but you’re both too invested to quit the show. You’re close. Closer than you should be for hanging around you mothers ex. You'll be cuddled into John's side, legs over his thighs as he holds you close, patting or rubbing your knees or thighs. Worse, he's laying on top of you like a weighted blanket, head just below your chest as you run your fingers through his hair, you're more than scared he can heard the speed racing of your heartbeat.
Small touches shared in the mornings when John becomes your alarm clock, climbing into your bed and giving you the five extra minutes you need, maybe ten, pulling you close, his hand slowly gliding up and down the curve of your back, so low to your hips, his breath ticking your ear about how you’ll both be late at this rate, breakfast can’t be made if he’s there taking care of you, rubbing the hairs at your nape and laughing at how your scarf has slidden off—
“Lovie? Love, you listening?”
You’re not fathoming how you’ve gotten so wrapped up with John, giving him two hard blinks to focus back on what’s happening. Right, it’s movie night. John’s set it spontaneously, said you needed “quality time” since you’d been “keeping space.” Keeping space between your mom’s ex only made sense, it’d make sense to anyone outside of your home, but between the two of you- for John- he hated it.
You’re not some sort of replacement, filling the hole of the damage your mother made, John liked spending time with you just as you are before the breakup. But after the breakup, the lines between you two swiftly became blurred in his head. The older man could be what you needed since no one was around.
Just needed someone a little older, a guiding hand to not push, not have to feel like you had to do everything yourself and by yourself, to not have to be in fight or flight constantly. And if that included calming you down closer than he should be, finding reason to share small touches, letting you lean on him as he tiredly made his evening tea, getting lost in your pretty mahogany brown eyes, your smile, too beautiful for the human eye—
Then so be it.
Your turn your head back to the tv, shoving your head into your hand as your arm rests on the more than comfortable sofa of the cozy space you and Price created, “You said something about dishes right? My bad I’ll wash them tonight-“
John watches from the other end of the couch, hesitating, “—It’s not what I’ve said lovie. I asked why were you so far away?”
“Isn’t this comfortable space between us as is? I’m pretty okay over here.”
“Sweetheart,” he croons, voice deeper, sweeter and softer, “You know what I mean.”
That’s the problem. You know exactly what he means, taunting you to blur the lines even more. Act like what you’re doing is okay.
But your mom is the one who gave him the backhlanded break up, not you. Could you really be in the wrong?
You huff, pushing yourself off the plush of her couch that comforted you and onto John who catches you in his arms with an ‘oof’, a chuckle to follow as he squeezes you tight against his chest.
“You’re fuckin needy.” You grumble, letting him kiss the top of your ear, up to your hairline. Your hands going around his torso.
“Yeah I am.” He gleefully admits, one hand going to the back of your nape to rub his thumb there, pink lips coming back down to nibble at your ear, then sucking it. His beard hairs tickling you.
He breaths out, pressing your further into his chest, perfect tits pressed onto him, “It’s what all good Dads want, time with their kid.”
And those words shouldn’t have made you feel the way you do, squirming in his hairy and beefy arms, hiding your face into his shoulder. It’s like he’s begging for a reaction out of you. Your nipples growing hard through the fabric of the oversized shirt you had on.
You know John feels it.
The movie continues on the tv without another word for about fifteen minutes, letting John press your body fully against him, restless, with little hitches of your breath, feeling the bump in his sweatpants, again your thigh, the older man’s calloused hand needing your ass so intricate but such nonchalance on his face.
Your head rests on his shoulder, hand slowly reaching into your shorts, you gulp, “Price…”
He only quietly hush’s you, sliding your sticky underwear to the side, pads of his fingers brushing through the hairs of your mound, touching your pussy lips. He grunts as you squirm in his hold, “Movies still goin love, thought you said you wanted to watch it?”
Goosebumps roll up your arms, muffled ‘mmpf’ and hushed ‘ah’s as the older brunette dips his two, fat digits in your dripping hole, slowly taking them out till only the tip is in and then thrusting then back inside of you. He’s taking his time, working his fingers in and out of your tight pussy as John holds you tight, hand wrapping around the back of your neck, steadying you while you grind against his hand. “So wet honey,” he coos softly, dragging his fingers through your walls, the loud squeal of your juices louder than the tv, “You like this don’t you? Getting finger fucked by your old man, huh?”
You keen, clawing at his beefy bicep, your clouded eyes can’t even comprehend what movie is playing anymore, mouth in the shape of an ‘o’, “L-Like it so much Price!”
John hums, fingers reaching deeper inside you that make you want to close your legs together. The older man stops you though, lifting your leg around his waist with his . “Easy now sweetheart, y’can take it.” He chides, kissing your forehead.
Your hips buck as you whine, a small gasp escaping you as you feel the growing print in Price’s grey sweatpants against yout thighs. “Think you can help me out lovie? Cocks been throbbing all day just thinkin about you.”
Youre dizzy at his words, head turning into his neck so your hand goes down his plush stomach, pulling down the grey sweatpants to reveal his cock. It’s heavy in your hand, can barely wrap your hand around it as you slowly start to stroke from his pubic hairs to the fat mushroom tip. John presses you against his chest, your harden nipples brushing against him as he shudders, “Fuck lovie, you’re good at this, aren’t you? Shit- wrap it tighter- Fuck me honey.”
Your thumb rolls around his cockhead, starting a steady pace as you pump your hand up and down his veiny shaft, “Mm- I-I’m not a fuckin- fuck- a child John.” You scuff between a moan, both of you panting as you watch the filthy things you’re doing to each other. Pre oozing out of John’s dick.
“My kid though,” he grunts sternly, he’s informing you, all his. Always will be, “So watch your fuckin mouth, yeah?”
Your jaw goes slack, Price curling his two digits inside you, pounding right into your spongey spots that make you cry out. Your hand goes limp around Johns stiff member, clutching onto his wife beater, “Dad! Shit- aangh! Dad!”
It’s music to John’s ears, grinning as he lets his lips meet your plump ones, your loud mewls and moans filling his mouth as your tongues wrap around each other. So sloppy, wet, your walls squeezing his fingers, spasming so harsh you have to squeeze this older man’s shoulder. You’re a mess, feeling John’s fingers slip out of you and wrap your hand around his cockhead. Tugging and stroking his dick, frantic, leaving kisses on your face, down to the corner of your lips. Groaning and grinding against you till you see his strawberry red tip pulse, gushing milky white out of his cock.
Both of you are left panting, coming down form your highs, Price sits up on the sofa, getting between your thighs and rubbing the meaty flesh. He glasses to the tv, the credits rolling, then down at in your withering state.
He lifts his chin, “Wanna cum again,” then nods towards the movie, “or you wanna watch the movie?”
You’re trembling still, dazed eyes looking into the deep blue ones staring down at you, “Wanna cum again Daddy.”
The end of John’s lip curve upward, lifting your calf’s to his shoulder and kissing them, “Good choice kid.”
a/n: lol this shouldn’t have taken this long to write. Inspo song Sofa Joy by Natanya. Also, Inspo @/superhoeva, you probably won’t see this from my back up but if anyone loves you & how you write almost dad! John, it’s me🫂
In Chenar village, Asadabad, Hamadan Regime forces stormed in today with dozens of armored vehicles and heavy weapons, brutally arresting hundreds of residents including women and children. People were beaten, shot, and wounded; the village is completely sealed off with roads blocked and internet cut. Lives are in serious danger as we speak. Please amplify this... don't let them massacre our people again.
I just know Ghost is the type to fall in love at first sight with a stripper.
It’s such a strange feeling, he’s never felt in his 30 something years of life. Ghost didn’t know his heart could beat so fast in a situation that didn’t lead him to fighting death itself. His stomach turning, feeling nauseous, ears shot as his eyes are glued on you— he thought he was having some sort of stroke. Sudden form of terminal illness. But Johnny had that look on his face, smirking against the glass of tequila in his hand and wrapping a chummy arm around Simon’s broad shoulders, “Bonnie is good, isn’t she?”
More than good.
Ghost grunts, low, not wanting to miss a single movement from you, “Fuck off.”
You were coming down from Heaven the way you slowly made your way down the pole, spinning around it with your arm reached out, like the Creation of Adam painting by Michealangelo, reaching out and gracing yourself upon the rest of the mortal beings— but your bush past them, past the demons, to the lowest there is.
Ghost.
The way your body and more than skimpy outfit shimmered in the flashing lights, face all dolled up and smiling with your eyes, grinding and rolling your hips so hypnotic to the music that was pulsing off the walls that made any person groan in delight, throwing more cash, whistling and raising their money for you to take, cheers as your 6 inch heels clicked together through a transition. You come down, scanning through the crowd, tantalizing the crowd with your body, hips swishing with every step.
And Ghost, so stiff and awkward in the crowd, manages to lift his hand, three $100’s in his hand, didn’t even mean to really take the money out of his bank but Kyle and John said he’d need it. Like a moth to a flame, you stand above the masked man from the stage, taking the money, your long nails gracing his fingers that send chills down his spine, and gliding it down your chest, down to your thong. You slide your hands down your thighs as you get on your knees infront of him, legs open, long lashes fluttering, brushing your hair back as you look him right in his brown eyes.
“Thank you baby.” Your voice is otherworldly too. Drawing the brute of a man in.
Giving him a small smile, you continue your routine, as if Ghost didn’t just get the small chance to meet the love of his life. Ass shaking and winding your waist that makes Johnny and the rest of the men beside him cheer, more cash getting thrown at you.
Simon could’ve watched you for hours on end handing you whatever cash was in his wallet till he was passing you debit cards, but your set ended, and you collected your money, disappearing into the back of the club.
They said your name was ‘Apple’ and you would be giving dances soon.
But Ghost didn’t have the heart to. Not tonight, at least. Stumbling out the place, the cold chill of the night hitting him, still feeling pressure in his stomach, flexing his hand that remembered your subtle touch. He was more that uncomfortable with the feelings that washed over his body. Simon had seen in some mundane and generic romantic movie he put on to silence the noise. To quiet Ghost while on vacation. He learned that when you’re nervous looking at a beautiful people, unable to speak, anxious, heart racing— you have this thing called “butterflies.”
Simon thought his friends were lying, so did Ghost. But now, they both know this nawing feeling, those butterflies are alive and fluttering in his stomach. The heart Ghost thought had ceased to exist, was pumping. Harsh, hot. Feelings Simon shoved the back of his mind when he had relations with anyone else, sprouting out the concrete just as a rose can.
And they wonder, if you feel the same thing too.
a/n: wanted to try my hand in the Simon/Ghost dissociative identity disorder hc. Heavily inspired by Butterflies by Brent Faiyaz. As always, Lmk what you guys think.
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