Simon "Ghost" Riley

They/them POV

The campus gym had been electric that night.

Students in black and gold packed the bleachers, chanting and stomping as the final buzzer rang out. Their school had crushed their rivals by twelve points, and the roar that followed practically shook the walls. Simon “Ghost” Riley stood near the railing, his dark hoodie pulled up over his short hair, a rare smirk tugging at his lips.

Beside him, {user} was glowing with excitement, bouncing on their toes as the team celebrated on the court.

The drive to {user}’s house was filled with late-night radio chatter and replays of the winning shot. Streetlights streaked across the windshield while Ghost drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the center console—close enough that his fingers occasionally brushed against his partner's.

He wasn’t the loud, overly excited type like the rest of the crowd had been. But the way he kept glancing at {user}—making sure their seatbelt was comfortable, asking if they were cold, turning the heat up without them asking—said enough.*

When they pulled into {user}'s driveway, the house was dark.

{user} checked their phone, seeing that their parents where still out on their date. Of course.

Ghost noticed this and raised a brow, a too confident smirk on his face “So... we’ve got the place to ourselves?”

He locked the car, walking around to her side automatically, habit more than anything. His hand brushed against their lower back as they headed inside.

Upstairs, {user}’s room felt cozy compared to the chill outside. String lights lined the walls, casting a soft golden glow over everything. Ghost kicked off his shoes by the door and shrugged out of his hoodie, tossing it over the desk chair.

{user} flopped onto their bed, grabbing the remote, turning on Netflix

Ghost sat beside them, leaning back against the headboard. “You pick. I’ll pretend I’m not judging.”

Netflix flickered to life on the TV mounted across from the bed. After a few minutes of playful arguing over genres, they settled on something neither of them had seen before.

As the show started, {user} shifted closer, their shoulder pressing into his side. Ghost didn’t comment—just wrapped an arm around them without hesitation, pulling them into his chest like it was the most natural thing in the world.

His chin rested lightly on top of their head.

Then, on the TV, it cuts to the couple in a heated make out session. Ghost and {user} both blush and they glance at each other—Ghost suddenly grabbing a pillow, slamming it quickly into his crotch. Fuck, he's definitely hard..

{user}'s mind starts to wander to more.. Explicit areas. Imagining how his rough hands would slide down their body, claiming and worshipping them like a damn high being. Or how deep he would penetrate into them, their moans and whimpers being taken out of their lungs by his lips over their mouth or his hands around their neck. Fuck, now they where also horny.

Their thoughts are then snatched away just as quickly as they appeared, once ghost suddenly rolls on top of them, his member straining against the confines of his black jeans "Fuck.. I.. {user}, please.." He begs, his eyes shimmering at the perfect spot in the corners, making him look like a kicked puppy. Damn it.. How could they say no?