Chapter Text
Author's Note: ...remember when Y/N was sweet and innocent? Yeah, me too.
Okay so I wrote this in like two days and this is usually a week's worth of writing for me, so you can imagine the lack of editing that happened here. What I'm saying is, I will probably be making edits to this tomorrow. So, sorry if it's messed up for now I wanted to get it posted :')
(Can this even be considered a bonus chapter anymore??)
You sat on your couch, staring at the TV but not really watching it at all. Chancing a glance outside, you took in the slow fall of snowflakes as they drifted down from the heavy night clouds. There was no sign of him at what you now knew was his favorite building to watch you from, not that you would likely be able to spot him anyway if he didn’t want you to.
Giving up, you turned back to the TV and rested your head in your palm as you slouched over the arm of your sofa. Your focus was barely on what was playing, you couldn’t shake the flashback as you recalled the last time you’d seen Ghost.
He’d once again fucked you until you couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t function- and then made the move to leave immediately after.
You’d insisted he stay, and he finally relented to you, but you couldn’t help but notice the changes in him that night. He’d wanted you to touch him, insisted on it, even. And when you asked him to stay, he did. He’d done so before at your request of course, but this was…different.
Each time before, he’d been gone before you woke up. Each time, you’d awoken alone in a cold bed with the sheets pulled over you but no sign of the man who’d made you forget your own name only hours before.
This time…he was there.
He was there, and he was cradling you against him.
His strong arms were wrapped around you; one tucked under your head, splayed out across the pillow in front of you, the other draped over your hip, his fingers barely touching your stomach. You could feel his steady breaths as you slowly gained consciousness - he’d been asleep.
Asleep .
His breaths were steady and strong behind you, his body warm and just so inviting. You laid there for a long time, eyes wide in shock as you swore he would disappear at any moment, just like his namesake.
But he didn’t.
In that moment, you grew bolder; wanting to savor this moment as much as possible, wanting to soak it in just in case it never happened again. Given how flighty and fickle he seemed, any one of these little rendezvous seemed like it could be your last.
So, you reached out and pulled the arm splayed on your pillow until you had it nestled against your chest between your breasts. Your one hand wrapped around his forearm there, the other you draped over his from where it rested on your hip.
No sooner had you stopped your subtle motions that you felt him stir lightly behind you. Instantly, you fell still, not wanting him to know you were awake- hoping beyond belief he would let you have this just a little longer.
His fingers twitched against your stomach, splaying across your skin in a gentle but firm grasp. His arms flexed lightly around you, as if testing that you were real. You expected him to pull away at any moment as the sun slowly rose more and more, filling the room with light.
But…
But he pulled you impossibly closer to him, his arms caging you gently, but completely. He lifted his head from his pillow, only to let his forehead rest at the crook of your neck. The fabric of his mask teased at your skin as you felt him take a few deep breaths of your scent. “Fucking hell, girl,” he said quietly in a deeply rough, sleep ridden voice.
You felt his length harden at the curve of your ass, and your body began responding in kind. Any second now he’d wake you, and take you again. You waited in expectation of it and thought when he slowly pulled the hand around your waist free that it was him just lining himself up - he’d already taken you while you were unconscious before, anyway.
Nothing could’ve prepared you for when that hand moved to lift his mask, his lips meeting the skin of your shoulder as his hand returned to your hips, pulling you against him again as if he wanted to pull you into him.
Every move he made was slow and careful, he was purposely trying not to wake you. Trying to hide this side of himself from you. Hide the fact that when you slept, when you weren’t looking, when you just frankly weren’t paying enough attention-
Thinking back, that was the moment you realized it.
Or maybe it was actually moments later, when he placed a deep kiss into your hair before slowly and carefully pulling away from you. Not even bothering to use you for relief from his obvious arousal. That’s all you ever really considered yourself to him, anyway: something to use. That’s all he’d given you evidence of being to him.
The formula of you two was straightforward: he’d come home from wherever he usually spent his time, would use your body - sometimes dealing with whatever competition he thought he had - and would disappear again. But…but if that was true, why wasn’t he waking you by now? Using you by now?
You’d felt him move off the bed, heard him dressing, even heard his heavy bootsteps as they made their way from your apartment. You’d even heard the click of the lock and the quiet close of the front door as he left you to rest from the blissful exertion he’d put you through.
All during this you stayed in place, more terrified than you’d ever been in his presence at your realization that…
In his own - perhaps dark and twisted - way, Ghost cared about you. Maybe even loved you.
It was a long while before you moved from that spot. And even then, you only turned and pulled the pillow he’d slept on close to your chest, breathing in his scent there - the only sign he’d been there at all.
Clutching the pillow tightly to your body, lacing a leg over it and breathing in deeply, you’d made a decision that morning. The next time you saw him, the next time he was near-
You’d find a way to make this into something more.
If you were right, then maybe…maybe he wanted more too. Maybe he just didn’t know how to make it anything more.
Even as you thought it, you wondered if you were wrong. But when the bed felt this cold without him, and when all you could think about was him and the next time you’d see him again- you had to try.
Except, it had been months. Which wasn’t unusual at this point, except it had been 6 months.
Seasons had come and gone, and with each week that passed you felt less hope that he’d turn up. Whatever realization you’d had that morning, he must’ve had one of his own and decided you weren’t what he wanted anymore.
That’s usually where your head would go - gravitate to telling yourself that you weren’t enough for someone again, that they’d left you behind. But he’d called you his, watched your life from afar for who knows how long, he’d ruined a man’s career for you, killed for you, saved you, protected you.
It didn’t add up.
And there were times every so often that you swore you could feel that sensation you’d had that night in the hallway. That same buzzing sensation, telling you that you were being watched. But still, he never came to you.
So here you found yourself: curled up on your sofa on a Friday night watching some show you could barely focus on and didn’t care to give your full attention anyway. There were times you chanced a look outside to the building across from you to see if maybe you could catch a glimpse of him, but all you saw was darkness and falling snowflakes.
You sighed, resigned to it being another uneventful-
Your heart skipped a beat when that buzzing filled your senses. For a long minute you thought surely it would go away, that it wasn’t real. But it stayed.
Instantly, your mind was racing on ways to lure him out. There was no way you’d be able to go out there and find him yourself; he’d disappear before you even caught sight of him. You’d felt him watch you a handful of times these last few months, a couple of them were when you were home in your apartment, and you’d fucked up both times.
The first time, you went straight to your window and tried to spot him out there; the buzzing had disappeared shortly after. The second, you tried to play it cool; undressing in front of your bedroom window and pretending to just be about to take a shower. By the time you’d gotten out of the bathroom, your hair fully washed and fresh- the buzzing was gone again.
In the back of your mind, there was really only one way to lure him out, you just needed to muster up the courage, and put on the performance of your life.
Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for your first move.
You reached for your phone at your side on the couch, making sure to stay relaxed in your spot: you hand still supporting your hand, a bored expression on your face. As soon as you unlocked your phone, you went to your messages. Clicking on your best friend’s name, you pulled up her chat.
And you began.
A wide smile spread across your face as the screen lit up your face, and you bit your lip lightly for the effect. You pushed yourself up in your seat, hunched over your phone with that same pleased smile. You typed nonsense into the chat before erasing it all, hitting the backspace one final time as if you’d hit send.
Pushing yourself up excitedly, you drifted into your bedroom and to your closet. There was only one dress you had in mind: a high neck black sleeveless dress that hugged your curves and left your entire back exposed. It was short but not overly so, and not overwhelmingly sexy until you saw it from the back. It was perfectly inconspicuous - not trying too hard, but certainly trying.
Pulling it out from your closet, you snagged a pair of black silk panties from your dresser before you laid them both on your bed. It was an effort not to look out your bedroom window to the building across from you - where you were he was now - as you slowly stripped out of your longsleeve shirt and sports bra, taking extra time to slowly step out of your panties and turning your back to the window as you tossed your clothes across the room into your hamper.
You slid the black silk panties up your legs slowly, taking just a few extra seconds than usual. You smiled a giddy smile as you did so - trying to make it seem like there was something else on your mind than him being across the street from you.
You spent less time pulling the dress on, trying to seem like you were hurrying. Pretending to struggle with the button behind your neck, which held the front of the dress up, you scurried over to the mirror. Once it was fastened, you took a moment to turn and take in your exposed back and pretended to examine yourself critically.
This was one of the only dresses you owned where you didn’t completely question yourself when you wore it; this dress looked amazing on you. Something in your stomach turned at the thought of him watching your performance, watching you fuss over your appearance, watching you wear no bra under this dress…having seen the silk panties that clung to your core.
In dealing with him in the past, you knew if this plan didn’t work you’d be dealing with a rabid animal. You just had to hope it would work.
Next, you moved to your bathroom mirror.
You played music on your phone and blissfully sang along as you worked as quickly and thoroughly as you could to line your eyes subtly. You lightly applied blush to your cheeks, knowing you would likely be flushed enough later on. For your eyes you brushed on the lightest smokey eye you could, but used more mascara than usual. You wanted your eyes to stand out, but still look innocent enough just in case.
For your lips you used a simple tinted lip balm and you barely spent time on your hair at all, just messing it up between your fingers and letting it fall however it may. Where you were going it didn’t matter if you were picture perfect or not.
It was bitingly cold outside, you knew your next move was a mistake before you even made it, but anything for the show. So, you walked back to your closet and slipped on a simple pair of black pointed heels. After just a few moments striding through your apartment in them, you knew your joints would be aching from the cold in no time, but you braced yourself to deal with that then.
You slipped your ID, a credit card, and a few bills of cash into your phone case, having retrieved them from your usual purse. Slipping on your long black winter coat, you flipped the lights off behind you and closed the door to your apartment as you stepped out into the hall.
As you walked to the elevator, you felt the buzzing stop. You hoped beyond belief that meant it was real , that it was accurate. That buzz was the only thing you could count on for your plan to work.
After a short ride down, you stepped out of the elevator, strode through the lobby, stopped outside and-
The buzzing started again, faintly in the back of your head. A smug smile spread across your face as you took off down the street, giddy at the thought that he was nearby somewhere, but not bothering to try to find him.
The snowfall was light, most of it melting when it made contact with the salt laden pavement below your heeled soles. The cold stabbed at your ankles, but it couldn’t dampen your spirits. Normally, you would take a taxi, an uber, something to avoid walking in this cold. But that buzz nipped at your senses, and you didn’t want to miss its sensation for a minute.
Your destination wasn’t far anyway, just a couple streets over where the appropriately named ‘party corridor’ started. As you grew closer, you felt the buzz growing louder. The nips became bites as you weaved through the crowd of people walking along the road. It made sense, the more people there were around you, the closer he could get to you.
Another couple of minutes and you found yourself at your destination; the neon lights reflecting off the flakes of snow as flashing lights poured out of the entrance to the loudest, busiest, darkest club you knew of. It only took you a couple minutes to get inside, the bouncer letting you in with a wink that made you blush.
Just inside the doors, an attendant took coats and names from people as best they could hear, the music booming inside. This was the type of place that was nice enough to have a coat check, but seedy enough that you might not get it back at the end of the night, if you even remembered to go retrieve it. You handed over your coat as fast as you could manage, giving your name and slipping inside without a second thought.
From there, you made a beeline to the bar, the buzz fading for just a few moments before it was back with full force. You had to force yourself not to look around for him as you stood at the bar amongst the crowd as they waited for their drinks. The lights flashed all around you; bodies moving to the booming music and strobe lights casting shadows across faces making them look like skulls to you.
Snapping back into character, you looked through the crowd as if looking for someone. You tried your best to check your phone every few moments, trying to make it clear you were looking for someone here.
After a minute of that, the bartender smiled and leaned in to you, “What’re you having?” He called loudly. You smiled warmly, and not for the reason he likely thought.
You leaned into him as he had done to you, and you asked as loud as you could manage, “Who’s the worst guy in here?” He leaned back with confusion plastered all over his face.
You didn’t have to hear him to know what he asked next: “Why?”
There was no answer you could give him to satisfy that question, so you simply slipped one of the bills from your phone case, sliding it across the counter to him. His eye caught sight and looked between it and you for a moment before taking hold of it and slipping it into his own pocket.
Without hesitation, he lightly pointed to a skinny, tall man standing up against a railing in a far back corner. The man was wearing a heavy gray hoodie, neck tattoos peeking out over its collar, and a teardrop tattoo at the corner of his eyes. His skin was a deep tan, but his eyes a piercing gray, even from here.
You turned back to the bartender and leaned in again; you had to be sure. “What did he do?” You asked loudly to him. The buzz in your head was loud, but not so loud that you thought Ghost was close enough to hear your conversation with the man.
The bartender just stared at you for a moment before you relented and slid another bill across the bar to him. He accepted it quickly, leaning back into you, “Murder, rape, robbery, I mean, lady you name it, Mike’s done it.” You leaned back and nodded, mouthing a thank you before slipping away from the bar.
You waded through the dancing bodies that were bathed in red, blue, purple and green lights coming from all directions as the colors played with the music. You could feel the tattooed man’s eyes on you as you made your way closer to him.
Your feet felt like they moved slower, hesitation taking hold of you. Ghost had warned you of the consequences of what you were about to do. But what other choice did you have? He’d given you no other way. He’d purposely kept away this long, and left you without a hope to find him.
You felt addicted, and deep withdrawal. It had been months of nothing and yet now everything tonight felt like it was moving so fast, too fast. But yet still not fast enough. All you had was that buzzing in your head as a guess that he was even here at all.
Internally, your morals screamed at you to stop. That if you turned away now, you would still be okay. You’d be clean. Or as clean as you ever were. Distantly, you heard Ghost’s voice in your head as you drew ever closer to your goal.
But if any man touches you, they’re dead. And it’ll be your fault for letting it happen.
You’d done the best you could. You’d picked someone who’d done terrible things, or even if he hadn’t done all the things attributed to his name, he’d done some of them. And bragged about it. He’d let it be known that he was to be feared, respected. So what was the difference? A sheep pretending to be a wolf was just a wolf in training…right?
The man’s piercing gray eyes had tracked you from the moment you’d left the bar, and yours had never wavered from his either. As you approached the short staircase leading up to where he was standing, he met you as you took the first step.
He stood at the top of the steps, looking down on you as you looked up at him. Your lips were slightly parted, a nervousness in your stomach as you stared deeply into the man’s cutting gray eyes. “ What can I do for you , gorgeous?” He asked loudly as the lights flashed red across his face. You saw his eyes dilate with want as he held out a tattoo covered hand for you.
“Hopefully lots of things.” You said as seductively as you could manage given the surroundings. He smiled wickedly down at you, a metal tooth reflecting light like a beacon.
“I think I could manage that for you.” You instantly felt sick with yourself as you placed your own hand in his, your knees trembling as he turned away and led you to a back area with a crude bathroom sign.
That buzzing in your head became overwhelming, and you finally couldn’t fight the urge to turn around anymore-
But the tattooed man pulled you into the doorway of one of the bathrooms, immediately pulling you harshly across the grimy tiled floor. By the time you could manage a glance back, the bathroom door was swinging closed behind you. The bathrooms had frosted glass windows at the top, letting the lights from the club shine through in a haze of reds and blues. You noted that despite that, it was far too dark in here to be used as a real bathroom.
When you looked back, the man tugged at your wrist, sending a light jolt of pain as he slung you against the wall. You felt like your legs, already unsteady on your heels, would give out at any moment realizing you really had put yourself in danger just for the hope that Ghost was here; that he would step in, save you again.
All at once, with the man placing a fist by the side of your head on the wall, and his other pulling your hip flush against him, you were met with the horrible doubt that Ghost wasn’t here at all.
You felt the man’s length harden as he pressed it further against you. He smelled of cigarettes, like Ghost sometimes did but it wasn’t right .
“You’re much prettier than the girls that come through here,” he said as he looked you over like a butcher examining meat, “what is it? You just feeling bored tonight? Is that why I’m about to get this lucky?”
Your lip trembled, the man’s face was just inches from yours. The thought of him kissing you felt repulsive, but you didn’t think it would take this long. You almost flinched as he dipped his head to your shoulder, his lips grazing what bit of your collarbone was exposed from your dress.
His mouth was warm on your cold skin, but wrong. His hand drifted from your hip to the open back of your dress, his fingertips gripping your skin too harshly, pulling and plucking like you were elastic. Horror filled you as you pushed lightly against his chest, your phone in one palm as you pushed, wanting escape, wanting… needing -
You watched over his shoulder as the door to the bathroom swung open loudly. You smiled as if in a daze as you watched your masked man cross the tiled floor without hesitation. It was over in a handful of moments, but it all moved slowly for you:
The way he strode forward, the capable gait that was full of aggression. You stared up at his rage filled eyes as he came to a stop just a couple feet from you, his silhouette bathed in red light. You whispered a soft, “I’m sorry,” to the doomed man nipping at you with a smile on your face as you stared at the skull mask. The nips at your collarbone ended as soon as Ghost was behind the tattooed man, his massive hands grabbing hold of one shoulder and the side of his head, shoving him away from you and into the glass of the mirror not two feet from you.
Shards of glass flew across the bathroom, littering the tile and reflecting those changing colored lights like a disco ball. Frozen against the wall, you watched as the man fell to the floor, his head pouring blood from cuts that covered his face.
He tried to push himself up off the floor, his wide horrified eyes looking up at you as Ghost’s heavy boot came down on his head. At first, you thought maybe Ghost would just pin him down until-
The man’s head hit the floor, and Ghost’s boot didn’t stop; the full force came down on the man’s temple and before you knew it, his head burst apart with a horrible crack. Blood spattered over the bare tops of your feet and ankles, the warmth of it making your stomach turn.
Ghost pulled his boot from the mess, cursing under his breath at the corpse as his chest rose and fell more from adrenaline than exertion. You stared wide eyed down at the blood rushing from the man’s head.
You’d seen what Ghost was capable of before. You’d seen him kill the man in the alley, known he could break into seemingly anywhere, blackmail with no detectable paper trail, disappear in a crowd…but…but the sheer strength that this man had.
You realized then that every time he touched you, no matter how rough you thought he was being…that was him being gentle, always . Because the alternative was on the floor spurting up at you in time with a quickly fading heartbeat.
Your attention only deviated when a hand encompassed your arm entirely, ripping you forward with such a harshness that you felt the world spin around you. Finally, you pulled your eyes from the growing pool of blackened blood on the ground to look up into his eyes.
Looking back to you were red, nearly pupil-less eyes. You knew under normal light they’d be a pure blue. You knew under normal circumstances, they’d have a normal sized, black circle in the center, but…
All that stared back at you was the crimson bathed color, the pupil so small it was a mere speck in his eyes as they stared down at you. Legs shaking, you shrunk under his gaze. “Simon,” you breathed in relief, your lip trembling.
He shook his head roughly, “Stupid fucking twat,” he barked at you before turning and dragging you out of the bathroom. All the color was gone from your face as you both stepped out of the room. He stepped over two forms in the hall and dragged you behind, forcing you to nearly trip over what you looked down to see was…two more bodies.
Their own blood was pooling in the hallway, soon threatening to leak out onto the upper walkway where people walked back and forth when leaving the dance floor. You couldn’t see what he’d done to them, but you almost stumbled over their unmoving corpses as he kept you moving forward through the dancing bodies.
Like a dazed child, you followed, your mind racing as you realized the truth of the situation.
Those men in the hallway had been by the tattooed man’s sides before you’d approached, and you were sure they’d moved outside the door when the two of you had slipped inside. Whether that was to join in later, to keep you in, or to keep others out - what did it matter? All outcomes, all interpretations were terrible.
With every step, he pulled you harder. With every step, you became more aware of the stickiness pulling at the sole of your left shoe.
By the time you finally snapped back to your senses, he had pulled you through the front door of the club and out into the cold winter night, snow falling much heavier now. The crowds of people didn’t relent to the weather as more and more people flooded into the entrance, the bouncers barely checking IDs as they waved scantily clad women inside.
“M-my coat,” you finally said to Ghost when you were both several paces down the sidewalk. He didn’t even break his pace at that, and kept pulling you along. Your heeled feet couldn’t keep up with his long strides, “Simon-!” you called as you tripped at his pulling.
He turned on his heel immediately, catching you easily and pushing you into an alley. His chest rose and fell harshly as he circled in front of you, leaving scarlet footprints in the snow of the alley. You stared at the crimson steps your own shoes had made, and then at the red stains across the tops of your feet.
You could barely feel the cold of the night, your body still in shock from seeing a man’s head disintegrate before your eyes. But when your eyes finally drifted up to watch him, you saw his body was as tense as a stalking lion. Every wiry muscle was on edge, looking for a next target.
It was a hard realization then that you’d poked a bear that didn’t know how to settle, how to get out of that mindset. And the only viable target left to take his rage out on was you.
He stepped forward to you then, taking your chin in his hand and forcing your gaze up to his.
You realized then what a mirror image this was to when you’d first encountered the real him in that alley so long ago now. Except this time, you’d done it all on purpose.
“What the fuck did I tell you?” he ground the words out at you. Dazed doe eyes stared back at him, and normally that would be enough to cool his temper, but tonight it only made everything worse. “What, you just wanted to go get fucked in a club like a cheap whore by some prick?”
“No, I-” you tried.
“You what ?” His hand moved from just holding your chin to holding your whole jaw as he backed you up against the cold brick wall, causing you to cry out from the chill.
You gasped in air as the cold finally started to settle into your body, forcing shivers to break out over your skin. You pulled at his hand lightly, silently begging for his grip to loosen. “I wanted to see you.” Your voice was quiet, but sincere.
His grip relented the slightest bit, his deadly blue eyes searching yours with ferocity. “I-I missed you,” you continued, his grip loosening more, “you wouldn’t come see me, I didn’t know what else to do.” Tears pulled at your eyes now, a mixture of fear, realization at the danger you’d just been pulled from, and the desperate hope that he would soften for you.
His hand fell away from your jaw, letting you go fully. “That was the only thing I knew would work.” You said, tears falling from your eyes fully now as you shook like a leaf in front of him.
“And if I wasn’t in town? What was your brilliant plan then? Get sex trafficked away?” His blue eyes were impossible to read. His tone held a mocking flatness, and questioned the soundness of your plan rather than the reasons behind it, which he wanted to ignore.
The heat from both of your breaths formed small clouds between you, “I-I knew you were here, watching. I could feel it.” His eyes bared down into yours in a searching, unrelenting gaze.
“And if you were wrong? What then?” His voice was scolding, but curious nonetheless.
“I…don’t know.” You admitted. “I just wanted to tell you…” You felt your voice wavering.
“Tell me what? What was worth all this?”
“I…want more.” You said, quiet but sure. “I want more than this, whatever this is.” You said, looking down at his chest before once again lifting your gaze to meet his. “I want this to be real. I want us to be real.”
He hesitated a moment, clearly taken back from what you’d said. But he shook his head, his body language clearly annoyed, his tone no different as he spoke, “I can’t give you real.” You searched his eyes, trying to pick out his lie, but only saw the determination that it was the truth. At least as far as he believed.
You took a step back, momentarily defeated as your chest rose and fell. “Then what can you give me?” Your voice sounded lost, even to you.
“What?” he asked, as if he’d expected his own statement to be the end of this conversation, to be the end of ‘this’ entirely. Like he was surprised you were still standing in front of him at all.
Your voice was more sure now, “What can you give me?”
“What the fuck could you possibly want?” He asked, hoping the aggression in his voice would be enough to dissuade you from asking for anything at all.
However cutting his tone was, you finally had a chance to say what you’d been mulling over for six months now, and you weren’t giving in so easily. “I want a full name ,” you said in an exasperated voice, “I want a face, a phone number, an address ,” you hoped he could see in your eyes how serious you were, “I want a way to talk to you.”
You felt a tear slide down your cheek, the warm streak instantly cooling against your skin in the winter chill, “I want….I want you to be more than just a ‘Ghost’ to me.”
He tore his gaze away from you when the sound of sirens came from the distance, and people began rushing out of the club. You both exchanged a knowing look, the steamed breaths pouring from your mouths and mixing in front of you. With a short grunt of irritation at the approaching sirens, he tugged off his outer jacket and draped it over your shoulders.
It was long enough on you to be a second dress, and you snuggled into it gratefully. Your eyes lingered on the tighter fitting slate gray long sleeve thermal undershirt he wore - how it clung to his shoulders and showed the distinct bump of his biceps.
You could only stare for a moment though because he took hold of you again, your hand this time, and led you more gently through the now busy sidewalk as others rushed away.
The people around you both talked in scared voices as one of them recounted seeing the hunched bodies in the hallway. Ghost didn’t react whatsoever.
He blended into the crowd so easily, matching the pace instantly and becoming nearly invisible despite his size and despite that skull mask. It wasn’t as hard to imagine him being able to do the things he did now, how he could get away with nearly anything. Every movement he made was precise, intentional - professional .
The two of you had only been walking a block or so when he pulled you away from the crowd and down a street of apartments. The rest of the crowd had started slowing anyway, some stopping to watch the ambulances and police cars as they passed and stopped outside the front of the club.
You stared at your hand in Ghost’s, and took the opportunity to interlock your fingers with his. He walked a couple steps ahead of you, and you could barely see his masked face as he led you down the quieter street which was practically empty. Ghost’s fingers tightened almost undetectably around your hand, testing how small it felt in his and basking in the slight warmth yours gave off.
He led you both to an apartment building, one of the higher end ones that only had maybe a dozen tenants, with each floor being one apartment. “Where are we going?” You asked as he let go of your hand and approached the front door.
Pulling a keycard out of his pants pocket, he held it to the pad and the door unlocked. He silently held the door open for you, and you passed inside.
This…was his apartment building? But no, he wouldn’t pick a building that used the same keycard system that he bypassed in front of you multiple times before now, right? He would live somewhere reminiscent of a fortress….right?
The lobby was full of rich warm light that came from Edison bulbs strewn everywhere they possibly could’ve been. The elevator shaft was clear, allowing for a look inside. The lobby sitting area had black leather couches, the air ducts and piping all exposed and painted black. The walls were a mixture of exposed brick and regular drywall painted a deep green.
Everything about it was industrial and rigged, yet high end.
He strode past you, taking your hand once again in his as he led you to the elevator. Once inside, he let go of your hand and pressed the button for the sixth floor. You looked over at him, your mouth open to ask once again-
“You said you wanted more.” He said flatly, as if he was offering you a gift and you just didn’t see it yet.
A quiet elevator ride later, you were met with a short, well lit hallway that led to a singular black door. The floor was a deep, rich brown wood, and your heeled shoes clicked lightly on its surface as you walked. Ghost led the way again, his heavy boots making less noise than they should’ve as always. You stared down at the path behind you both, and found no trace of the bloody footsteps left in your wake outside.
You were surprised when he used a simple key to open the door, thinking someone like him would surely-
No sooner had he opened the door than a low, constant beeping started. Not loud enough to be heard from a distance, but with what you knew about him, its presence was concerning. If it were anyone else, you would’ve brushed it off as a simple alarm.
Ghost quickly reached inside without opening the door fully, his arm maneuvering something you couldn’t yet see from your spot outside the door. With a click, the beeping stopped, and he pushed the door open fully for you to enter.
You looked into his eyes and hesitated just a moment before you took a step by him and into the darkened space. At first, you couldn’t see anything besides a small red laser pointed at you - or, rather, the doorway.
Ghost flicked the kitchen light on, the room illuminating in the soft warm light of the Edison bulbs in the overhead kitchen fixture.
Anchored to one of the exposed brick walls of the entryway was a rifle, aimed directly at your chest. You didn’t need to know much about guns to notice the size of the barrel likely meant a big bullet would come out of it.
Ghost closed the door behind you and stepped past you as if the gun wasn’t even there. You did your best to follow suit, wiping the shock off of your face as you stepped in and past the gun’s sightline.
Ghost stood quietly in the kitchen, watching you with folded arms. “Go on then,” he said, and you finally realized he was…giving you his blessing to look around? To snoop?
You hesitated, your eyes questioning if he was sure. This was…more than you thought you’d get tonight. Maybe more than you ever thought you’d get, actually.
Looking around, you tried to pick the best place to start. Since you were already in the kitchen, you figured that was as good a place to start as any. And where else to start in the kitchen than the fridge?
Pulling open the sleek door, you peered inside the cool light that poured from its open door. Inside you found an unopened pack of large uncooked chicken breasts, a couple different slabs of steak, beers on the top shelf, a handful of condiments in the door shelves, and some broccoli and greens in the vegetable drawer.
He was in such good shape, it figured he probably wouldn’t really eat anything besides the basics. But still, it seemed very empty and…clinically clean.
You checked the pantry next, and found a large bag of rice, packs of protein bars, a container of protein powder, and some rice cakes. Again, it was mostly empty space and with not a speck of dust. He only watched you with interested eyes as you passed by him and opened a cabinet, finding only crystal clear glasses and a few protein shakers.
Closing it, you decided to drift further into the apartment, coming to stand in the living room, which really only amounted to a gray couch and a coffee table. From the look of them both, they had rarely been used, if ever. The massive space swallowed the both of them up, making the room feel empty despite their presence.
Turning back to look at him, you found him standing closer than you thought he’d be, just a few feet away. There was an odd look in his eyes, not quite warm, but…maybe just curious? Or….
You looked down a long hallway, spotting four doors; two on each side of the hallway. Taking drifting steps, you walked to the first door on the right, pulling down on the handle and opening it carefully. Finding the lightswitch, you flipped it on and found a bathroom with one of the biggest showers you’d ever seen in person. From what you could tell, everything was once again clean, organized, and utterly sterile looking.
Stepping back into the hallway, you pushed on to the room across from the bathroom. You opened the door and flipped on the light to find a decently sized laundry room, with shelves lining the walls and only a few bottles of detergent.
You frowned lightly as you pulled the door closed behind you. “Not what you’re looking for?” Ghost asked humorously.
You gave him a small smile, but he was right; whatever it was you were looking for, everything so far wasn’t it.
Turning back to the two remaining doors, you picked the one on the right first. Stepping in just as you had the others, you were met with a massive bedroom. On the opposite wall was a bed easily twice the size of your own, though you were sure he had to have a big mattress just for his height.
The bed was meticulously made with deep gray sheets. There wasn’t a crease to be found on it. Beside the bed was a small nightstand with a pistol laid on top. You stepped into the room, your legs carrying you aimlessly towards the top of the bed.
You were already surrounded by his scent in the jacket - that sharp smell of metal and warm whiskey played at your nose with every inhale. The closer you got to his bed, the stronger the smell became. Without meaning to you reached out, running your fingertips over his pillow as your eyes caught sight of the closet.
He watched you from the doorway as you took a step to the closed door. He whistled at you once, catching your attention. When he held your gaze, he shook his head once. You looked again at the closet door, wondering what could be behind it even as you moved to step out of the room.
You strode past his hovering form, the air thicker between you two than it had been all night. He was watching you so intently, curious of what you thought, where you’d go, what your fingers would reach for, and what you would do when you saw the next room.
He didn’t have to wonder much longer as your hand gripped the handle and you pushed the door open. Light poured from four large screens across the room, bathing the room in bright light. You wandered towards the screens, taking in the desktop that was littered with files under the keyboard, the tall computer chair, and the computer tower off to the side on the desk.
Of any of the rooms, this was the only one with signs that anyone really lived here at all. And even then, only because of the manilla folders strewn across the desk.
Stepping closer, you saw the four screens showing different angles around Ghost’s apartment building - this building. One was the front door to the lobby, another was the elevator, another the back alley of the building, and the last was the hallway leading up to Ghost’s apartment door.
You felt Ghost’s warmth behind you before you actually saw him at your side. He looked down at you with a dark look in his eyes as he slowly reached down and around you, his chest barely brushing your back as his finger pressed one of the arrow keys on the keyboard. With that simple click, all of the camera angles changed.
The first was up in a corner of your room, hidden behind one of the few plants you had hanging from the ceiling, directly angled at your bed.
The second was the lobby of your apartment building.
The third was the entry to the train terminal you used every morning.
The last was somehow tapped into the security cameras at your work, aimed directly over your desk.
You realized that from this chair, he could practically watch your entire day. But you knew him better than that; he likely had this on his phone, too.
Ghost stared down at you, waiting for your reaction. You felt his gaze like a weight on you, and you wondered why he thought that this would change anything at all, if that was what he even showed you this for.
You took a short breath and leaned back against him. You could feel by the way he stiffened he hadn't expected it. “Why are you showing me this?” You asked quietly.
“You wanted more, didn’t you?”
Letting your head roll to the side against his chest, you spoke up to him, “I already know this, though.”
His blue eyes bore down into yours, illuminated by the lights from the screens. He completely ignored what you said when he asked, “What happened to ‘no more killing’?” he asked in a voice that mocked your tone when you’d said it.
Your big eyes looked up at him, framed perfectly by your long, mascara strewn lashes. He felt you lean even more against him, a sigh pouring from you. “I paid the bartender to pick out the worst guy in the place,” you admitted, “I-I think it’s safe to say he got it right.” You attempted a bit of humor, but it fell flat on your lips.
“Since when does a rabbit set traps?” He asked. Was it…admiration in his tone? No, it couldn’t have been. Not half an hour ago he was calling you a dumb twat as he pulled you out of the grimey place.
You pushed off of him and turned then, wanting to look him squarely in the eye as you said, “Since the wolf never came back.”
“Cute.” He said as he walked away from you and out of the room. Following quietly, you watched as he strode into the living room and sat on the couch as he began unlacing his boots and taking them off, checking the bottoms of them with an irritated scoff as he tossed them aside. He’d have to scrub whatever was left of that scum off of them later. Probably would need to do the floor, too.
He relaxed into the couch and draped his long arm over the cushioned back. He rested his other elbow on the gray cloth arm, bringing his fist to his head to lean on. His legs were spread wide, with one leg lazily outstretched and the other kept closer to him with his foot flat on the ground, ready to stand in an instant if he had to. The only thing illuminating him at all was the warm glow from the distant kitchen light.
“Come here.” The hand on the back of the couch waved you over in one swift motion, his index finger pointed at his lap before it returned to its outstretched, lounging position.
You took one slow step forward, “You were never coming back, were you?” He watched your legs as you walked teasingly slow, his eyes slowly drifting from your heeled foot, up your calf and across your thighs until they disappeared under the hem of his jacket.
He didn’t answer you.
Another click of your heel echoed lightly through the nearly empty apartment. You took his lack of an answer as a confirmation that you were right. “What was your plan, then?” you asked, giving your best impression of his own tone from the alley. “Were you just going to sit here and watch me forever? Kill whatever man got close to me? Make them all disappear?”
You saw his eyes grow darker on you, “Maybe.” He conceded.
“That’s a dumb plan.” You were only a few steps away now.
“Yours was worse.” He said, “Much worse.” You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped your lips; he was being playful, or his version of it. In the back of your head, the sound of that man’s head cracking under Ghost’s boot filled your head, and you wondered how horrible of a person you must’ve become to still be able to smile despite being the cause of it all.
“Maybe.” You conceded, biting your lip.
His eyes lingered on your lips, at the way they curved upwards the slightest bit while you bit the lower one to try to stop the smile from spreading. “You’re fucked in the head, love.” His voice was warm…admiring?
You couldn’t help the louder laugh as it escaped. “Maybe.” You repeated smugly. You came to a stop in front of him, standing just between his wide spread legs. “But I think you like it.” Your hands came to the sides of your dress, pulling the tight fabric up slowly over your hips so your legs could spread wide enough to sit astride him.
Hungry eyes watched the black fabric rise over your skin, coming to a stop over your hips but allowing him the view of the black silk panties that clung to your heating core. He could only see a sliver of them through the open front of his oversized jacket.
“You think so?” He asked, only half invested in the conversation at that point as you slowly crawled into place. Your heat radiated through his jeans immediately as you pressed down against him, your arms wrapping themselves around the back of his neck.
Calloused hands came to rest on the sides of your thighs, roaming over your smooth, soft skin. Every touch sent electricity through you; it had been too long since he’d touched you last to ignore what it did to you.
You stared down at the skull on his mask, right where you knew his lips were. “I think I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.” Those big doe eyes of yours looked from his covered mouth to both of his eyes, searching to see if you were right. His dark pupils had nearly eclipsed any hint of the blue you’d expected to find there.
Ghost palmed your thighs, squeezing them appreciatively. “You’re not getting a face.” He said finally in response to your demands in the alley.
“A number?” You asked, your eyes looking between his.
When he gave no answer, you let out a defeated sigh and moved to pull your arms from around his back, pushing yourself up and off-
His hands moved to your hips and slammed you back down in place, your breasts shook from the force, hands gripping his shoulders for stability. Wide, questioning eyes searched his.
“Fine.” He ground out.
“A last name?” You asked, knowing it was probably too much to hope for-
“Don’t push your luck, rabbit.” His voice was low and dangerous. You dropped it; that wasn’t what you really wanted anyway.
“Can I see you more often?” His hands drifted from your hips to the curve of your ass, his fingers gripping and kneading your skin as you felt him grow hard under you. Even just from that, you could tell regardless of how he felt about that request, his body liked the idea. Quite a lot.
He nearly rolled his eyes even as his body reacted against you. “You can come here if you like.”
“So I can get shot by your…murder door?” Your hands wound their way up his shoulders, lacing themselves behind his head, fingers playing with the small bits of loose dirty blonde hair.
He let out a huff of a laugh under you, rolling his head to the side and looking at the rifle pointed at the door. “You really are a spoiled little fucking Princess, you know that?” One of his hands gave your ass a sharp slap, making you jump against him, a small pained sound coming from your lips. He turned back to you at that sound; letting out a heavy breath.
You bit your lip lightly, your eyes again staring at the faint outline of his lips behind the cloth. He watched your face intently, knowing what you wanted, wondering if you would take that too like you had tried to take everything else tonight.
Wandering hands played at the back of his mask, slipping underneath as you looked for any sign of him telling you to stop. When none came, you carefully slid his mask up and over his lips, stopping just shy of the farthest you’d ever seen it pulled up.
Your hands held either side of his face, your thumbs lightly brushing over his cheeks and the corners of his mouth. Deciding to push your luck, you slowly moved your hands down the sides of his throat, over his shoulders, to his chest.
Any moment you expected him to tear you off of him. The last time, he’d been drunk when he demanded you touch him, and it was the only time he seemed to be able to stand your hands moving on him.
But to your surprise, he leaned forward, tugging the gray long sleeve over his head in a swift movement before tossing it to the side on the couch and leaning back again. Ghost’s hands gripped your thighs as if he was holding on for his life.
Your movements were slow and careful; your hands kneading the muscles in his chest before moving back up to his shoulders, massaging them appreciatively as he let out a small moan and pressed his head back against the couch, angling his closed eyes up to the ceiling.
From there, you moved one hand to the back of his neck and massaged it deeply as the other hand drifted lower to brush over one side of his abs. You took a light hold of his hip, if only just to feel it in your hand once. He bucked up against your core, a light curse on his lips as his muscles tensed suddenly as they had done in the past.
“I want to be more than just a toy to you.” You hadn’t even realized you’d thought it until it was already in the air between you. He rolled his head slightly to the side, letting your hand have better access to one side of the back of his neck, even as one of his hands tore your other hand away from his hip.
His breathing was coming in ragged pants now, and he sat up suddenly, his eyes zeroed in on yours instantly. His warm breath washed over your face, “You’ve caused me too much trouble tonight not to get used like a toy.” He moved both of his hands to slide his jacket off of your shoulders and onto the floor below.
You felt yourself grow wetter at his words, the slickness coating the silk and you knew in an instant he could feel that wetness even through his thick denim. “And after tonight?” Your voice was quiet but serious. The want was well hidden behind your need for this to be something more.
You saw him clench his jaw as he ground his hardness against you. “We’ll talk.” His voice was final. “I’m losing my patience.” He reached down to your hips, closing his legs slightly to slide you farther down them.
No sooner had he gotten you down to his knees than he spread his legs again, forcing your legs completely open for him. You gripped his shoulders tightly and gasped when he tucked his fingers into the thin black silk and tore it to shreds, leaving your core exposed for him.
“So wet already?” He asked, running his left hand knuckles along your folds, finding them hot, swollen and dripping. “That’s good, love.” His other hand reached behind him and into the back of his jeans, pulling out a well hidden handgun in front of you.
Those wide doe eyes watched him as he pulled his left hand away from your core and expertly slid out the magazine, tossing it to the side on the couch before he pulled back the chamber and sent the last bullet rolling across the floor.
You struggled to close your legs lightly when he brought the gun between your legs and lined it up with your entrance. His knees held yours open easily despite your struggles. “Simon!” You said, gripping his shoulders, eyes wide as a wicked smirk spread across his lips.
“What’s that face for?” He pressed the metal the smallest bit farther against you. “This gun killed two men for you tonight,” the humor in his voice was dark, “I want to see you show it some appreciation.” His lips were just a breath away from yours, and his scent clouded your brain as he ground the barrel against your clit lightly, “I have to clean it anyway now, because of you.”
So this was how he’d dealt with the two men outside the door. The scene flashed in your mind: the only reason it had taken Ghost so long to get into the room was because he had to wait for the music and lights to line up and time his shots accordingly. The thought that this was the gun that had done it made you shake.
Your breath shook, lip trembling lightly, “I-I can’t…Not first…” you gripped him tighter. He rolled his eyes at you, pulling the gun from your core and wrapping that arm around your back, holding you steady as he brought his other hand between your legs.
“Fucking Princess ,” he ground out, pressing one finger into you, immediately pumping into you roughly. Your nails gripped the skin of his shoulders as you gasped. “All the things I’ve done for you tonight,” he added another impatient finger and curled them both inside you before continuing to pump in and out, “and you still want more.”
Slick juices coated his fingers, dripping into his palm the more he pumped. You gasped and moaned in his ear as he fingerfucked you without care, “Fuck, those sounds you make though,” He said, “You’re lucky I didn’t leave you to those greasy fucks; they’d have never let you go after hearing these sounds.” You could hear the aggression pick up in his voice when he mentioned them, and could feel it in the way he curled his fingers in you once, twice, three times-
You jumped each time he hit that spot, and he watched the sway of your breasts through your dress as you moved. “That’s enough,” he said as he abruptly withdrew his fingers. You stared at him with pleading eyes as you gasped and gripped his muscled shoulders for any sense of yourself.
“Listen here now, love,” he said in a low voice, his eyes holding yours as you felt his arms switch positions, you hissed lightly as the cooled metal returned to your entrance, “you’re going to take this gun in that pretty little cunt of yours,” he pressed it harder against you, “and I’m gonna watch you cum all over it.” You bit your lip and nodded weakly.
He pressed the metal up into you then, the hard cool metal unyielding as it entered you, demanding you stretch to accommodate it. You gasped loudly at the size of it, your arms shaking as they struggled to keep you upright from where they pushed off of Ghost. “Good fucking girl,” he said in a warm, dripping tone, “open up now.” He pressed it further into you, drinking in the struggling gasps as the barrel disappeared fully inside.
Ghost couldn’t tear his gaze away from where it ended and you began. “Your lips look so good around my gun, rabbit.” He said, that same teasing nickname coming out. Your nails dug into him deeper when he started pumping it in and out of you slowly. “There you go,” he coached, “just take it like you were meant to.”
Hot embarrassment flooded your cheeks as you lost any sense of yourself, crying out loudly as he fucked you with it faster now. The ridges and grooves of the barrel hit that perfect spot with every pass, and you could feel the drool forming at the corner of your mouth as you begged him in incoherent slurs.
“What, pet?” He asked mockingly, his eyes glued to your pleading, struggling face. “Use your words.” When you opened your mouth to try, he picked up speed again, now fucking you with the gun at a frantic pace.
You collapsed against his shoulder, your arms encircling him as you held on tightly. “Hold onto that for me,” He said, pausing for a moment, pulling you flush against his chest as he let go of the handle for just long enough to wrap his arm around the back of you, taking hold of it again and picking right back up where he left off.
Wet sounds echoed off the walls, and he let out a dark huff of a laugh at the sounds. “You’re a fucking mess, rabbit.” He teased wickedly. Your eyes pleaded with him as you struggled to catch your breath at his speed.
“You never thanked me for saving you again,” his voice low and calm, “go on, pet, say it for me. Just like last time.”
The blush in your cheeks deepened as your core heated up, his words only worsening the heat that was building inside you. Every deft movement he made with his wrist drove the ridges of the barrel right where you needed them, and you felt your body giving in. “T-thank y-you,” you stammered between gasping, moaning breaths, “thank you,” you said again. You arched your back, your legs spreading of their own volition, allowing him a better angle to fuck you deeper as your core reached its boiling point.
“That’s it little rabbit,” he said as he watched your eyes roll back in your head just before a desperate moan poured from your lips, his name among a stream of unending ‘thank you’s.’ His hand slowed, fucking you more gently through your orgasm as your walls clutched the metal inside you.
Gasping for air, you looked up to find him watching you with a satisfied look in his eye. He carefully withdrew the gun from your core, bringing it up for his inspection. “Fucking hell, that’s a pretty sight.” His eyes were glued to the slick streaks and pooling wetness you’d left behind.
You watched through bliss blurred vision as he held the gun straight up in front of him, tasting it in a long drag of his tongue. “Fuck, that’s good.” You felt yourself warm again at his approving tone.
Ghost’s face turned back to you then, that wicked smirk back on his face. “I wonder if you taste the same.” You could only whimper in response. Setting the all but ruined gun to the side, his arms hooked themselves under each of your thighs, lifting you easily up onto his hips as he stood and started walking to what you now knew was his bedroom.
You clung to his shoulders weakly, “Simon,” you breathed, not even sure what you wanted to say.
“No, no,” he said as he approached the bedside and laid you down, your legs hanging off of the edge as your core was lined up perfectly with the end of the mattress. He hovered over you as you slowly peeled your arms away and laid fully against his sheets. “You’re still my toy tonight, remember?” His voice was gravelly and dark, but you swore you could hear something else behind it. Something almost sentimental .
And then you realized that after tonight, he actually might intend to try to make things be different between you two. You couldn’t help but feel relieved; your plan, your horrible, grisly plan, might’ve worked.
You looked up at him with renewed want, “Yes,” you breathed “Simon, use me.” His breathing hitched when you said the words, your half lidded eyes looking up at him with want and adoration, neither of which he deserved, especially after what you’d seen him do tonight.
But you were there in front of him, willing and dripping, and he’d already proven to himself many times at this point that there was nothing he wasn’t willing to do for you. To you. With you.
“You sound like such a fucking slut right now, love.” He said, using one hand to reach behind your neck and deftly unlatch the top of your dress, pulling it down to free your breasts in one fluid motion.
He leaned down to claim one of your nipples in his mouth then, sucking on it slow and hard. He rolled the other between his fingers, palming you greedily as soft moans poured from your lips, “F-fuck, Simon,” you said, throwing your head back and running your hands over his shoulders, “fuck me, please,” you struggled to make any sense.
He drew his hand away from your breast, only to give it a harsh smack with his hand. A loud cry slipped from your open mouth. “Greedy little brat,” he said, “keep that mouth closed or I’ll use it until you can’t close your jaw right.”
You whimpered in submission, your body writhing under him as he took your nipple in his mouth again and sucked at it. You felt fingers run up and down your folds, playing lazily at your clit with every pass but only barely grazing it.
Ghost leaned back up to you then, pressing a finger as soon as his lips were only a breath away from your own. He watched your lips with dark eyes as you gasped, the sound filling his own open mouth as it hovered over your own.
He leaned in then, kissing you slow and deep. You lost yourself in the feel of his tongue dominating yours as his finger slowly rocked in and out of you. It was only then that you realized that this was the first time you’d kissed tonight. The first time he’d kissed you at all since he’d placed those last two on your shoulder and hair the morning he’d left.
Ghost pulled away, kissing the column of your throat, which now felt more like a prayer than the threat it had been at the very start of all this.
And you felt it.
That thing you had repeatedly doubted and debated while waiting for him these last six months. It was in the way he kissed you, the way his tongue was revering your own, the way his lips dominated but savored your own.
He loved you.
As your heart raced, his finger slowly picked up speed, and he pulled away only to nestle himself between your legs. “You know this pretty cunt is mine, right?” he said as he looked at your slick folds. You gasped a soft agreement as his free arm wrapped itself under and over your left leg, lifting your thigh onto his shoulder as that thumb started to play with your clit.
“You let a man touch you again,” his voice was dark and serious, “I’ll keep you chained up in this apartment and use you like my bitch.” Your walls clenched around his finger, and his eyes flashed between your core and your rapidly blushing face.
His finger picked up speed, his thumb following suit, “Fucking hell, rabbit.” He mockingly shook his head as you gasped into the air, “You want me to keep you here, waiting for me like some empty headed fuck toy?” You shook your head lightly, even as your walls once again twitched around him, betraying you.
He laughed darkly, “I might just do that soon.” He pulled his one hand away from your clit, only to replace it with his hot, hungry mouth.
“ Simon ,” you cried, rolling your hips immediately against his tongue as it sucked and flicked at that sensitive bundle of nerves. His arm held you down against the mattress as you bucked with every flick. Your fingers played absently at the base of his skull, massaging and lightly pulling at the loose bits of hair.
You tasted as sweet as you always did, mixed with the sharp metal from his gun. It tasted even better coming straight from the source than it had on the surface of the barrel. He could hear himself moan against your core, feel his hard length as it threatened to tear through the zipper of his jeans he wanted to take you so badly.
It had been a long six months without you; the only pleasure he took was when he saw you in bed - either sleeping soundly or using one of your little toys to give yourself weak, half baked orgasms that seemed to tide you over. It was a personal favorite idea of his to show up after you had just pleased yourself, still frustrated, still horny, and fuck you until you couldn’t think like he usually did.
But still, he’d stayed away.
The morning he’d woken with you in his arms, something had scared the hell out of him. A feeling he still wasn’t willing to think about or consider.
He’d kept watch over you, waiting until that feeling faded. Waiting until he could look at you without feeling himself weaken at the same time. Six months and it hadn’t happened.
Mostly he just watched you on his surveillance cameras now, but occasionally he felt the need to be closer by, hence tonight’s excursion. But then you did…all of this .
His sweet little prey had gone out and set a trap with - and he couldn’t emphasize this enough - little to no thought behind it beyond drawing him out. No regard for your own safety, no care for anything or anyone but him.
It was adorable how you tried to still do the ‘right thing’ and use someone worth killing. And normally he would be pissed off at having been used as some sort of hitman in your plan. But he was the one who decided whoever touched you would die, and you…
He was just so damn proud of you.
With every swipe of his tongue, he tried to show you just how proud of you he was. Your legs shook horribly as he lapped at your sweet, gunmetal juices. He added another finger, and you cried out under him.
Such a fucking good rabbit, finally growing some fucking teeth . Finally taking a bite out of something. Or at least doing your version of it.
He couldn’t help but to rut up against the base of his box spring; the noises pouring from you were too good, your taste was too good, everything was just too good .
Ghost pulled his face from your clit, “Come on, little rabbit,” his fingers fucked you faster, “do that trick I taught you, hm?” Your body tensed against the mattress when his head ducked back down, his tongue madly flicking and sucking at you in turn.
Your head was swimming with pleasure, all noises that poured from your mouth seemed years away from you. All you could focus on was the way your hips angled up to let him fuck you easier, how your leg instinctively unhooked itself from his shoulder to open wider for his mouth until-
Your head fell back against the mattress, your cheat rising as you felt that sweet liquid heat rush from you, coating Ghost’s chin as he did long passes at your entrance to catch it in his mouth. Exhausted, you slumped against his sheets motionless. You could hear his hum of approval as he continued licking you clean for a long minute.
When you finally regained any sense of yourself, he was over you. You sucked in deep breaths as you held a weak hand to his chest. He pulled it away instantly, “No, I’m not done with you yet,” sliding his strong, tattooed arm under you, he hoisted you easily further onto the bed.
Ghost reached over and snatched his pillows from the top of the bed, you watched him with pleading, exhausted eyes, “Simo-” pulling on one of your wrists, he flipped you over and onto all fours.
Except your arms couldn’t hold you up at all, and your legs shook horribly as they tried. Ghost slipped the pillows under your hips and you slumped down into them as you breathed in his scent in the sheet beneath you, the only thing keeping you grounded.
The sound of his belt buckle echoed behind you, followed by his zipper and finally you felt it as he stood to pull his jeans off completely. And then he was on you again, his length pressing against the curve of your uplifted ass as he hunched himself over you.
Ghost reached under you and took a light hold of your neck, raising your head just enough so that his lips barely brushed the tip of your ear. “Just keep those pretty legs spread for me,” you whimpered lightly as you felt his tip at your entrance, “I’ll do everything else for you.” His voice was a dark promise.
Your fingers gripped the sheets as he thrust into you, “So fucking tight ,” he ground in your ear as he withdrew and pushed in again, opening you up for him. “Why are you still so fucking tight?” You could feel the drool forming at the corner of your mouth as you stretched for him, your entrance already slightly sore from all his ministrations so far tonight.
Ghost’s hand gripped your throat, applying the smallest amount of pressure, just enough for you to start to feel light headed as he picked up his pace, his balls slapping loudly against your clit as the pillows held you up for him.
His other hand moved to play with one of your breasts, groping it roughly in his hand as he choked you. “I could keep you chained up just like this,” he breathed, “I could use you until I broke you.” You moaned as he pinched your nipple, his fingers closing around your throat tighter, making it harder to think. “I could train you until the only words you know are ‘yes, please,’”
A hot wave of shame filled you as you felt your walls tighten at the thought. Your hands moved to his wrist as it held your throat, your vision just barely dark at the edges, your sensation all focused on the invading length plunging in and out of your core as it slammed against your wall.
“I felt that,” he said wickedly at your ear, his other hand pulling away from playing your breasts to plunge between you and the pillows, coming to a stop as his fingers found your clit. You cried out as he expertly found his rhythm with those deft fingers, building that growing heat in your core.
His teeth practically nipped at your ear now, “Fuck, I could put a brat in you right now, the way you feel…” That same liquid heat was threatening to spill over, his words only making the tides roll faster, even as your vision was slowly fading to black-
He took his hand off your throat then and you sucked in a breath of air, “I could keep you here and breed you like my little bitch,” he said mockingly. All at once, the rush of air sent all your nerves into overdrive, and you came hard, a curse on your lips as you cried out.
Your body shook beneath him and he pulled his finger from your clit, instead moving to run up the back of your thigh soothingly as his pace slowed. “Of course you’d like that,” the hand that was at your throat now cupped your jaw, turning your head to the side so he could watch your utterly exhausted face as you tried to recover.
When you finally stopped shaking, he pulled out of you and maneuvered you easily into laying flat against the bed. You watched him with half lidded eyes as he tossed the pillows back to the top of the bed before leaning down to you again.
“Put your arms around me,” he said in a quiet but firm voice. You did as he said, and he hooked your legs over his hips before looping his arms under your back and lifting you to lay your head against one of the pillows.
Ghost wanted to stop, to just lay down next to you, like any normal partner would likely do at this point. But he couldn’t.
He did warn you that he couldn’t give you real. If you thought otherwise, then that was on you at this point.
Your breath hitched as those half lidded, sleepy eyes turned pleading in an instant when you felt him line himself back up at your entrance. “Simon, I can’t-”
“Yes you can,” he thrust back in with a grunt, relishing in the way your eyes fell back into your head, “just lay there and do what you’re good at,” his voice was dark and mocking again, “I’ll make it quick.” You let out a short cry as he set his pace in you again.
You’d laid your trap, and caught what you’d caught. It could only be expected that a caught wolf would still bite, even a pretty rabbit like you. A catch wasn’t always a prize, and maybe one day you’d learn that and try to get away from him.
As if he’d let you at this point.
He thrust into you, his end nearing as he thought of keeping you here forever. Of owning you. Of possessing you completely.
Opening his eyes, he caught sight of that spot on your collarbone the scum from the club had been working at when he’d burst in. He couldn’t help himself as he thrust into you one final time-
He bit down on the spot, causing you to cry out and your weak arms to try to push his head away from the spot. He nearly growled as he buried his cum into you, part of him hoping it would stick, if only for another way to own you.
When he pulled away, he saw the bruise already forming. You sucked in breaths under him, your eyes already closing in relief as he pulled out of you. He lathed the spot over with his tongue, placing kisses you were too far gone to feel.
Ghost finally rolled off of you and onto the pillow beside you, his eyes never leaving your sleeping face. Part of him couldn’t believe you were actually here, in his bed. Part of him was mortified that you were here.
There was a reason that he kept you at an arm's distance. He didn’t share his space well, and his moods were fickle to put it mildly. He had no idea how letting you any closer than you’d already been would go. He didn’t know the new ways he’d be able to hurt you, didn’t want to know. Truth be told, he never really wanted to find out, but that was too late now.
But listening to the small, sleepy sounds pouring from you now, he didn’t want to think about it at all, either.
In the morning, he’d tell you to stay for the weekend. The stunt you pulled - asking about a man that just happened to turn up dead not twenty minutes later - would set police out looking for a woman with your description. Once they knew the type of victim they were dealing with, efforts would dwindle to solve it, and you’d be clear. You just had to stay off the streets until then.
He reached out to you, slowly and carefully pulling you so your head was on his chest. He held your hand up over his heart, just for a moment to test how it felt. He was surprised when he didn’t want to flinch away from it. But he pulled it away all the same.
He figured he’d made enough progress for tonight.
Author's Note: So does this make Y/N morally gray now? I mean she did use her 'power' for good....
Anyway, hope you enjoyed this evolving and devolving pair. :) Side note, I realized writing this that Y/N could be seen as delusional in thinking Ghost loves her, or he could genuinely love her, and both interpretations can be 'right.' Which is interesting to me lol.