#cw weapon

It was a throwaway comment, you didn’t mean anything by it- hell, you were half joking like always. But Ghost freezes, his gloved hand tightened around the mug, knuckles whitening under the fabric.

Vulnerable. The words hit him like a gut punch, sinking low and twisting.

His breath hitches, barely audible, but enough that he curses himself for it. Heat floods his face beneath the mask, creeping down his chest and pooling in his lap.

Fuck.

Simon Riley cock was rock hard suddenly, straining against the teeth of his zipper, from nothing but your words.

He shifts, trying to adjust without drawing attention, but his cock twitches insistently against the confines of his pants.

Why the hell was this happening? It was just words. Stupid, casual words. But the way you’d said it- so matter-of-fact- made his pulse race, his mind spiraling into pathetic fantasies.

He pictured your hands on his throat, squeezing just enough to constrict his airway, making his breath come in ragged gasps. His body arching up involuntarily, pressing into your grip, hips bucking weakly as he begged in a broken whisper, “More… please, don’t stop.”

You, with a knife pressed to his jugular, the cold edge biting into that exposed skin, a thin line of red blooming where it nicked him just enough to sting. Ghost whimper like a wounded animal, his hands clutching at your thighs as you straddled him, riding him slow as syrup. “Please,” he’d whine, voice high and desperate, his cock twitching inside you with each shallow breath, the threat of the blade making him throb harder, closer to the edge.

God, he was so hard it hurt, aching like a teenage virgin. He pressed his thighs together, willing it to go away, but the friction only made it worse. A low, involuntary whine built in his throat, and he swallowed it down.

You finally looked up, eyebrow quirked. “You alright there, Ghost? Look like you swallowed a bug.”

He cleared his throat- vulnerable throat, fuck- and nodded stiffly, voice rougher than usual. “Fine. Just… tired.”

Liar.

He was anything but fine, sitting there with his dick straining like it had a mind of its own, all because you’d pointed out how easy it’d be to take him down.

Pathetic. He was supposed to be the unbreakable one, the ghost in the shadows, but here he was, reduced to this over a single offhand remark.

It's been so long Since I last have seen my son Lost to this monster To the man behind the slaughter

he yan, no matter how trecherous the situation is, i will always trust you.