Thinking About Professor!Ghost And His Stupid Motorcycle, Abs How He Definitely Isn't Stalking The Hot

Simon fucking into you from behind, your underwear shoved into your mouth so he doesn’t have to hear your pleas for him to stop, whispering to you about how you’re his purpose in life now. He was made for you. Made to protect, to love, to pleasure you. Anything (but your freedom) is yours for the taking. Everything about him belongs to you, you’re his goddess, his everything. And he’s never letting you go.

micro sketches with Price & Gaz just warmin' up...

Links

GYAAATTTT GHOST???? CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP YEEEOOOOWWCHHHH!!!!!!

shout-out to this ask and @theworldthroughnyataslens for the inspiration because imagine doing this to Simon.

It was probably because of some non-argument that emerged out of the random conversations you two usually have. Or maybe it was because you couldn't decide on what you wanted to eat. For the millionth bloody time.

Either way, Simon was being sassy and giving you the Bombastic Side-eye™.

You sang to him, "He ain't no divaaaaa!"

And Simon tries his best not to laugh, he tries, but he snorts, mutters, "Fuck," and begins to chuckle.

What in the hell will he ever do without you?

just want to have a brown-eyed, broad man pull the covers over the two of us in bed, and say, “hi,” in that way where their eyes crinkle and my face breaks into a grin—before he asks me if I’m okay, and hugs me because he knows I’m not.

you know?

Road-tripping with Dad!141 <3

Warnings: Mentions of snacks/eating, GN reader!

Kyle wakes you up at 5:30 on the dot with a hot travel mug in hand, already filled to the brim with your favorite hot beverage fixed up just the way you like it. This man already has a comfy outfit picked out for you to wear, with a sweatshirt of his own as an option if you get cold. While you go to wake the kids up, he stocks the minivan with their favorite snacks as well as yours and his own, blankets, chargers, plushies, etc. 

     Kyle giggles when he sees the kiddos dressed to match you, happily strapping them into their car seats. He grins and sings along to the cheesy soundtracks they insisted he put on as soon as the wheels hit the main road. He holds your hand when you start to doze off, stealing glances at your peaceful face and the children passed out in the back through the rear view mirror. Definitely enjoys taking the roads with prettier views, even if it takes longer and it means more bathroom stops. 

     Simon is also an early bird, but he’s the one to go get the kids dressed and ready while you sleep in. Once they’re awake and hyper as ever, he lets them wake you up by jumping on the bed and giggling in your ears. With you awake and in a good mood (contrary to if he had been the one to wake you), he gives you a kiss on the forehead and goes to pack up the truck. He peels and cuts all the fruit, cheese and other treats and places them into snack boxes, leaving them out for you to pack into the cooler. Since he does all the "heavy lifting," he leaves you to put the kiddos in their car seats (like he doesn't make giant children).

     Simon is absolutely the CEO of the Dad Grab™. As soon as he hears one of the kiddos opening up their snack box, the cupped hand goes back like second nature. If they dare to complain he gives them the blankest stare in the rear view until they dramatically sigh and place the food in his palm. He prefers to take the quickest route, but if one of his babies begs him to go see the pretty trees, who is he to say no? He makes sure everybody gets a turn to hear their favorite music on the radio. He will also 100% make you feed him even though he has a free hand—he’d just rather keep it planted on your thigh. 

     Johnny refuses to wake up early, not when he’s on leave. He’s big on sleeping in, perfectly content to cuddle you until you’re screeching at him that you’ll all be late. While you’re dressing the kids, he’s brewing coffee for the both of you and munching on a protein bar. The kiddos’ snacks are already in a cooler in the fridge (because you know how your husband is), and the back of the 4Runner is packed with all of the luggage (you made him do it the night before because, again, you know your husband). 

     Johnny insists on being the passenger princess because he’s jus’ so sleepeh, and pouts when you glare at him while all the kids dangle from a different one of your limbs. That look is enough for him to get into gear, helping you get the children into their car seats and plopping into the driver’s side while you settle into the passenger’s seat. Like Kyle, he’s a big fan of singing along to his kids’ favorite songs, albeit more obnoxiously until they (and you) are begging him to take it down a notch. If the children are asleep, he’ll try to cop a feel with only a 50% success rate.  

     John is another early riser, and he likes to wake you up with gentle kisses to your neck and the side of your face. The kids get to sleep in while the two of you prep the snacks and get the truck loaded. He helps you wake and dress the children, getting them settled into their car seats with their favorite toys. He brings earplugs and a neck pillow for you if you want to get some rest, assuring you that the kids will be fine and he’ll wake you if anything happens. 

     John is another Dad Grab™ fiend, tickling the kiddos’ knees until they give in and plop a snack into his palm. He’s not picky with music, happy to let you or the children decide, but he does prefer to turn the radio off when everyone’s awake and alert so that he can explain the history behind all the different landmarks as you pass them—he chooses the longer route for that very reason. He loves to hold your hand while he drives so he can bring it up to his lips and kiss your knuckles without taking his eyes off the road.

Thanks to my bestie @xoxunhinged for helping me with these ;)

telling simon you have a breeding kink so now he's looking up where he can get his vasectomy reversed by tomorrow

nothing done by halves here

Slasher!Price who keeps his pretty thing a little closer to his chest. Who plays the part of military captain too well, using that as an excuse for the odd hours and the blood on his clothes. The only person he's ever truly loved. At least he thinks that's what this feeling is. You're the first, the one he tracked for weeks, the one he knew would be the perfect first kill, the one that would make his blood sing in a way deployment never did. He kills pieces of you, finds victims that remind him of you: your hair, your laugh, your eyes. He can't get too close to the real thing, it makes his heart hurt to think it's you under his knife, but there's something intoxicating about it all the same. Something that makes him cover your mouth with his hand when he fucks you over the washer, knowing his fatigues have blood in the seams, and press his nose against your temple imagining the scent of fear.

Maybe if he could convince you to come out to the woods with him he could quell this urge, chase you down and feel that primal fear properly, but he doesn't know if he'd be able to stop himself from finishing what he started. If you'd come out of it dripping come or blood. If you came out at all.

You being a work wife but not in the way you think

In the way that ghost is the owner of where ever he works and can do whatever he wants because he owns the danm place

In the way that you’re technically a housewife but you’re only home when he is because you get ready for work right along with him

Only to sit on the comfy couch in ghosts office and wait for him to finish working or get hard so he can fuck you into the couch while you scratch up his back

Moaning and whining as he takes out everything on your poor little hole

The boredom of sitting at a desk for hours, the anger of stupid clients, it all taking over his mind and the only way to fix it his to open your legs

You do nothing all day but sit and read, go on your phone, maybe knit or sew doesn’t matter because your main job is to be a waiting hole for ghost

And you wouldn’t trade it for the world

Fontainebleau State Park, Louisiana by Lana Gramlich