#💀|Bare Bones|Suggestive|💀

[bi-writes]

you get into big trouble, and you must pay the price. but bunnies should be terrified, and you are not.

mercenary!ghost x fem!reader (part 3/?)

notes about reader: she's curvy !!!! and she knows it.

cw: this is not a healthy relationship (you're both fucking insane), mature language and content, suggestive language and content, dark!ghost, mean!ghost, toxic!ghost, possessive + protective!ghost, kissing through the mask, mentions/depictions of violence + gore, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink (reader is described as much smaller than ghost, can be easily manhandled by him), ghost is bIG, mentions of ghost's canon trauma, mw3 spoilers, fem!receiving touching + a little oral (18+), unprotected piv

his phone pings. he turns it over, narrowing his eyes at the text on the screen.

🐰: made some cookies. come over?

he runs his tongue over his teeth, clicking it lowly before leaning back in his chair. his ass hurts; he's been sitting here for hours, watching a dark window do nothing for hours.

💀: Working.

🐰: i have a surprise for you !!!

💀: Later.

for a moment, he thinks he should be nicer. give his puppy a bone. tell her he misses the taste of her pretty pussy, that he can still smell her on the mask he hasn't washed. and this is true, he knows it; he aches to go back to where she lives. he wants to see her again. put his dirty, gloved fingers into her mouth and watch her cry, soak her soft panties again, steal them, watch her cry harder when he finally gives her what she wants.

the most horrifying part is that he wants it. he wants to feel the warmth of her body. he wants to see her wide hips stutter, her pretty thighs open. he thinks about bending her over and kneeling down behind her, spreading the meat of her ass so he can watch her come undone against the velvet cushions of her couch.

you're so fucking pretty. and you're everywhere. when he grips the metal of his rifle, he thinks about how hard he was when he ate your cunt--fucking solid, balls so heavy and tight that he thinks he came for a full minute when he finally touched himself that night. when the sight of that rifle finds its target, he thinks about the way your pupils dilated when you came, the way your eyes rolled back into your head and the little sounds you made when he drank up the essence of you. when he swings his knife and plunges it into a soft neck, he thinks about your smile, the teeth you bared, the ones he wants to slide his tongue over when he kisses you again.

he had kissed you. kissed someone. the thought alone would normally make him vomit. to think of another person seeing his face, it bothered him, would usually make him feel sick--disgusted. his face wasn't meant for anyone to see, not even just half of it, and yet--he let you touch him.

and it didn't burn.

he remembers when he had taken a hand once for it. feeling someone's touch on his face, feeling scarred all over again by it, and taking flesh as their penance.

it was only fair.

there is something wrong with him. he should've killed you for it. your hand on his jaw, your lips on his, he should've killed you for touching him--and yet here he is, in another lonely room, staring at his target, thinking about how he can get your hands on him again. how he might coax you into kissing him just one more time.

he doesn't want to make it a habit. but he does want it to happen again. and it is enough that he knows he shouldn't see you again, but he will, because he's selfish. because he's hungry. because there is place inside of him, one that he thought was hollow and untreatable, that is just that much satiated whenever he is with you.

when he closes his eyes, he sees what haunts him. it isn't the memories of torture. he doesn't feel the wood of a coffin he once laid in. he doesn't feel the sting of pain when they carved layers into his face, he doesn't feel the holes they left along his chest when they rooted out pieces of him. he doesn't feel what he felt when they popped his fingernails off one by one.

no, he feels the ghost of someone's touch. he feels the rough callouses of skilled hands. he thinks of the bruised knuckles that used to scrape over the ridges of his uneven skin, and he thinks of the eyes that used to look at him as if he wasn't this mangled, forgotten thing.

he thinks of those eyes, and how blue they used to be. he thinks of what they looked like with that brightness in them, how they used to move, so fluid and easy. and he thinks of what they looked like with nothing in them. he thinks of them when they reflected nothing but the dull light over his head, and he thinks of the scream he let out when he was alone, when he still had his blood on his gloves.

ghost never begs. he doesn't beg, he never has, but he thinks he did that night. he thinks he begged, to who, to no one maybe, but he begged anyway, but it doesn't matter.

no one answered, and he knows there is a place inside of him so fucking hollow, that nothing will fill it again. a hole that only seems to be dug deeper and deeper with each thing he loses.

he never looked back when he left. he didn't say a word. he didn't even take his belongings, he just left. and the only thing he still carries with him from his past life is how good he is at killing and the extra dog tags that hang around his neck.

ghost isn't real. there is nothing about him that is redeemable, nothing about him that is good enough to love, and that is why he just doesn't care. and when he stopped caring, the nightmares went away. when he stopped wondering where they were, what they were seeing, if they would be disappointed in him, he no longer saw their faces in his dreams, watching them fade to black as the soft images turned into violent ones.

when he stopped being human, they left him, and he is so grateful for it. and that is why you were going to be a problem.

because he wants. he desires. he tastes, and he hungers, and you are sweet, and he wants to have you, and it isn't right. he knows this. he knows what it is he needs to do, but he won't do it--and there is a voice in his head that begs, from a far away place, for him to let you go.

but while he might not be human any longer, he is still a man, and men are weak.

as a man, he cannot close his eyes and forget your pretty face. he cannot stop thinking about your warm thighs, the softness of you, the unscarred skin that you wear. you wear your body as it is yours, and not like it holds you back, not like his does. your belly is full, and your heart is good, and you are warm. you aren't made of something else, you are real, and his blood runs so cold, he can't help but itch to feel you again.

there is something about you that makes that place inside of him feel like it isn't there, even for just a moment. and those moments remind him of someone else, of something else, something he once had that made him sick to think about having again.

the last time he had this, it killed him. the last time he found himself here, he didn't realize it had happened until it was too late--he was buried, deep, and there was no escaping a shallow grave this time because he thinks he loved the one that put him there. the last time he thought this way, he felt not himself, not enough, but it had been everything his life had been without, so he stayed, and he let it happen, and he didn't push him away, and now look at me--look at what I've done, look at what I've become--

men are weak. and men are lonely. and it was only a matter of time before ghost found himself there again, on his knees for something else. something soft and sweet and real, something that loves unconditionally and begs for attention and is never satiated until he looks at them and gives them what they need.

he doesn't know what he will become after you. he doesn't know what it will make of him. he knows you will go before him--he knows you will die before he does, because he isn't capable of dying, and even though he knows this as a fact, he wants to die again. but he won't try, because it won't work, even if he takes the blade strapped to his side and shoves it right through his heart.

he doesn't have one. he doesn't know what such a wound would even do. and he doesn't wish to see what color his blood will run if he does it, anyways.

you don't like the distance he keeps you at. it isn't fair. you do everything he asks--you go where he goes, you let him come and go whenever he wants, you spread your legs for him and let him have his fill, and you don't complain when he leaves even though your mouth waters thinking about getting your mouth on him and hearing him bask in his own pleasure for even a moment.

he gives and he takes, but he lets you do neither, and you want more. you know he isn't capable of more, you know he doesn't want more, but you want it, and he needs it. he needs you, despite what he says, despite how he acts, and you will give him what he needs.

you see it in his eyes. the things that aren't there, the things you think he once had but doesn't have anymore. sometimes he talks like you aren't there, and he mentions someone else.

another person. someone he used to know. someone he used to love, you think, but he isn't capable of love anymore, so you often wonder what they did to him to make him this way.

aloof. detached. so entirely fucked, he cannot make connections or hold the ones he has or let himself have what he needs. they have done something to him, and he wears the aftermath of it so clearly.

"he woulda liked you," he says sometimes.

"woulda loved the taste of y'r cunt," he murmurs once.

but they are gone. and you are not. and you know that there is something here. otherwise, he would never come back. he would not want to see you again. maybe he would have even killed you, but he hasn't, and he eats pussy like he loves you, so you decide you won't leave him alone. you won't let him go. this isn't fair, and you will get what it is you want--and give him what it is he needs.

you see him in the pub that you met in. he sits at the far corner of the bar, tucked in the dark against the wall, and he swirls a glass of bourbon in front of him. he wears a rain jacket over his dark hoodie, and you light up when you catch sight of him.

you wear something nice for him. a short skirt, a cotton shirt tucked into it, a cropped jacket over top, and your boots make you feel tall, but you know it won't matter--you'll never be taller or bigger than that large, hulking man you have your eyes fixated on.

but when he sees you, he doesn't react the way you expect. he doesn't sit up, doesn't get off his seat to come get you, he doesn't move at all. his eyes run over you, and then they move back down to his drink.

like he doesn't know what you taste like between your legs. like he doesn't know you at all.

your smile fades. you clutch your purse now in clammy hands, and you walk shakily to the bar and sit, swallowing hard as you try and hold in the shaky breath in your throat. your chest hurts a little; your heart has fallen into your stomach, and you shift on the bar stool, fidgety and uncertain.

you had been so happy to see him. you had been so excited to come here. you hadn't seen him in weeks--but the sparse texts he had sent you were enough to keep you hanging onto your phone whenever it made a sound, as if one of those notifications might be him, throwing you just enough attention to keep you on your toes, desperate.

your lip trembles a little as the bartender comes to take your order. you ask for a shot and a chaser, and you tell him to make it a double. you want to be drunk, and you want to be drunk quickly.

you tip the drink back, swallowing it down. it burns, holds a fire in your chest, and you chase it with a seltzer, swallowing down the contents of both until you slam the can back on the counter, hiccuping.

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, and when you realize ghost is still not looking at you, you're drunk enough to test his limits.

there's a group of boys down on the other side of the counter. they're playing darts, and they're drinking, and you slip off the barstool with a little step before making your way over cautiously. you pull your shirt down, show off the swell of your tits, and you ask them if they'll teach you to throw darts.

they practically cheer with delight. you hear one of them drool over your ass in that skirt, you hear another whine about looking down your shirt and at the peek of the lace bra you wear, and you shiver when you realize all you ever wanted was attention.

someone to tell you that you're pretty. that you make them hungry. but it isn't all you want, and they can't give you what you want.

they won't die for you. they won't live for you. and certainly, you know, they won't kill for you. but there's a man on the other side of the room that you want doing those things for you, that has the fucking balls to do those things for you, that possesses no good bone in his body that would do those things easily for you.

you see him in your dreams, breaking necks and popping kneecaps and slicing soft skin just to please you, and it makes you ache inside. you know what he does. he's never lied to you, but he doesn't always tell you the whole truth, but you fill in the blanks of the spaces he leaves behind, and you know what it is he does.

there's blood on his boots and money in his pocket, and you should be so afraid, but you never could be. not with the way he touches you. not with the way he talks to you. not with the way he puts his tongue inside of you and holds your thighs apart, and not with the way he grunts when he disappears into your bathroom to fuck himself to the image of you on your couch, half-naked as you wait for a fucking that never comes.

why won't he touch me? why won't he fuck me? why doesn't he rip the rest of my clothes off and have his way with me? he doesn't seem like the kind of man to ask for permission, but he eats me, and then he leaves me, and i can't take it anymore, please, please, please--

you're dizzy. the room spins, and the boys laugh, and your darts are hitting the wall now, clattering to the floor as they all boo and snicker at the way you're stumbling in your heels.

they're too close. you can smell the vodka and beer too much, and it's too warm because they're too close to you. someone's hand is on your thigh, another holds you upright with a grabby grip on your back, and there's someone else playing with your hair. they hum and they talk, and when they say they want to take you home, all you can do is hiccup and smile.

but as soon as you turn and leave, there's a large shadow waiting outside the door, leaning against the wall. you giggle knowingly, because you knew he would be here, and when the boys notice him, they try to take you in the other direction.

"if y'blokes knew wot was good for ya, y'd let 'er go and be on y'r way." he isn't in a good mood. he clicks his teeth as he comes off the wall, stepping under the streetlight. it makes the shadows of his hoodie darker, but his eyes are clearer now, bright under the mask as he breathes hard. he's angry, and he doesn't seem like his patience will linger tonight.

"oi, mate, relax," one of them laughs, and you giggle again when you see ghost tilt his head to the side. fuck, he's deadly, and you're wet. you squeeze your legs together looking at him, and you want him to put one big hand on your waist and tilt your head back--you want him to push his mask up and kiss you, all sloppy and soft like he did all those weeks ago. you want him to put his hands up your skirt and fuck you with his fingers right in the street, the same hands he squeezed the life out of someone with, the same hands he was going to kill these boys with.

ghost steps closer, and he goes for the nearest. brings a hand up, smacking one big hand against their cheek until their head hit the side of the building, and he crumpled to the floor in a pool of his own blood.

they scatter like bugs. stumbling drunk over their feet, tripping, and they disappear into the dark as ghost tilts his head to the other side now, looking at you.

you smile. giddy, hitting your toes together, and when you step to the side, you don't notice you've stepped in that man's blood.

"y'think this is fuckin' funny, eh? hangin' about with lot like that, y'think it's fuckin' funny?" he spits, and you put your hands behind your back, biting your lip.

"you...you ignored me," you hiccup. "why did you ignore me?"

"that wot this is about?" ghost snarls. "me not givin' you a proper look?"

you bite your lip harder, nearly drawing blood.

"i missed you," you whisper, your lip trembling slightly. "m-missed you so much..."

"fuck off with that," he mutters, but you step closer anyways. when he doesn't step back, you step forward again, until you're flush against his chest, tilting your head back to look up at him. you go languid when his arm falls, slipping up the back of your skirt just like you imagined. he squeezes the flesh of your ass before he leans down, and you whine when he presses the front of his mask against your lips. you kiss, your soft mouth kissing him through the fabric.

"is he dead?" you ask when he pulls away. ghost says nothing at first, just smooths his hand over the lace of your panties. he grunts when he slides his fingers between the seam, satisfied when he hears the squelch of your wet pussy as he pets you there. you squirm a little.

"dunno," ghost murmurs, and you get wetter you think, at how nonchalant he behaves as he touches you shamelessly where anyone might see. "fuck, bunny, y'r soakin' my fuckin' gloves."

"why don't you like me?" you whimper. you reach up and put both hands on his chest, and you dig your nails there, but you meet resistance. the muscle and fat there barely give way, and he hums when you drag your nails down, anchoring yourself to him. when you meet his eyes, they are dull, and you know he doesn't care. "i-i like you...i-i like you so much..." he huffs in annoyance, but you keep going, "you like someone else," you whisper. "there's someone else..."

someone else. as if there is some kind of competition, and maybe there is, but it isn't what you think. there is someone in his head, someone that screams for him to leave, someone that begs him--simon, please, yer goin' to hurt 'er, please, she's so pretty, please--but it isn't because he loves someone else, it's because he did love someone else, and he doesn't think there's room for more.

but he also cannot explain what swelled in his chest when he watched you with those boys. the searing heat of emotion that bubbled in his throat, and how the only relief he feels is the satisfaction that the boy at your feet bleeds because he put his hands on you, that is good, make them suffer, touching what fuckin' belongs to me.

there's a breaking point. it's the law of physics. something as rigid as ghost could only bend so far back before it reaches the elastic limit, and then it is deformed, and then it snaps, and then it is two pieces instead of one that cannot be put back together--and he feels it. he knows this is it. the fine line between what was and what is, this is it, it's too late--shut the fuck up, johnny, it's too late, i have her, she's mine, get out of my head, get out of my fucking head, i'm going to have her, have her, have her sweet fucking cunt--

you are bliss. you are the air that allows him to breathe. you are the threads in the fabric, the water in the soil, the heat that warms the house and breaks the soul and drives the machine.

you are in his bed, on your back, and when he slides your skirt off, there it is. the soft place between your pretty thighs, glistening and so wet, puckering and pulsing as you spread your knees for him and slip your shirt off.

he doesn't remember taking his mask off. he doesn't know where it went, but it is gone, and your lips are on his, and your tits are bouncing as he grinds his cock into your soft, squishy folds. the tip catches sometimes, and it makes you cry, and you whine when he breaks the kiss to lick your tears and taste the salt of your pleasure. the tears are heady and desperate, and he knows this flavor, and he wants more of it.

he commits this to memory. when he sits up and feeds you his cock, he memorizes the way you moan. the twitch of your pussy, the leaking of your wetness, the way you clench and tighten and grip so he cannot do anything but force himself deeper inside of you.

what is it that he loves? what is it that he loves so much that he cannot look you right in the eyes? whose body did he have underneath him all that time ago that steals him away so much he cannot fuck you the way you deserve? the way you need, the way he wants?

you reach up and grip his dog tags. they jangle against his chest as he grips your hips and fucks you, and you use them to anchor yourself, tugging on the metal necklace as you focus on the way he thrusts. powerful, smooth, with ease--he's so big, but he fills you so well, and you can't help but wonder if he's losing himself because it's so familiar. to be inside. to be gripped and squeezed and milked for all that you are, the brute of a man so misunderstood that fucks like a goddamn pornstar.

he's so good at this. when he finds the gooey spot in your cunt, he knows how to get you there. hitting it just enough to bring you to the edge, and then slowing down to savor the wet mess your cunt has become, and then doing it again. he listens to the cries you make, the crescendo of moans that you sob out that come back down when he goes softer. he thinks about this, and he makes music out of you. the pretty bunny, so fucking dumb inside, but the thing he cannot be without.

when he fucks you, he sees in blue, and he knows this isn't a coincidence. the blue in your eyes, it doens't lie--he knows what this feeling is, and he prays to no one that he can fuck this feeling right out of himself.

you come so messy. you soak his thighs, creaming on his cock as you beg him to fill you, and he cages you between his arms as he fucks harder, faster, losing momentum as he nears the same glorious high. he's been so good, but this he cannot help--not the way this feels, so familiar, so easy, so freeing.

there are no thoughts when he is inside of you, and this is bliss.

he kisses you when he comes. cups both puffy cheeks of yours as he spurts hot cum inside of you, sliding his big hands down to grip your thighs as he nestles his hips against yours. you reach down with two hands and squeeze his lower back, keeping him inside. this feeling, the feeling of being so full and warm and enjoyed, it isn't natural to you, and it isn't one you feel often, and you chase after it. you lick into his mouth and whine, and he hushes you.

"easy, rabbit," he pants, licking over your jaw, and you close your eyes. if he is predator and you are prey, then so be it. you want him to have his fill--you want him to trap you, steal you away, tuck you into this den he keeps and never let you leave.

you don't mind the blood on his boots, stained on his clothes, under his fingernails. in fact, you think about it often. you think about taking a rag and cleaning the leather of his shoes. you think about teaching him the cold water and peroxide trick to getting the blood out of fabric. you think about taking the gloves off, letting his fingers wander into the warmth of your mouth so you can suck his skin clean, all while your eyes never left his.

you think about the thing that you are. the bunny you are, the prey you've manifested yourself into, and you think about the thing that he is. you think about the dark, dense places that must exist inside of his head, and you think about how you can't see them in his eyes.

you think about being the bunny in a cage and how he holds the key. and you wonder if you would even leave if he ever let you go.

ghost loves someone else. you don't know who they are or where they've gone, but he loves someone else. but that's okay. that's temporary. that's just for now. they didn't love him enough to stay.

they didn't love him enough not to die. you don't intend to die. you're going to carve him up, right along the scars that he wears, and you're going to slip inside of him and live there forever, nestled between the organs and the black of his blood and the heart you know he doesn't have.

ghost is a thing. but he's still a man.

and men are fucking weak.

[katyspersonal]

Today's Demon's Souls playing

I played a bit more Demon's Souls today! At this point I am unable to play it without @val-of-the-north watching me stream it fdhfhsd Having someone see me play is like an addiction

1) Got back to the mines place where I killed the Firelurker last time because according to Val there was another boss! Didn't expect it to appear literally in the next room tho XD It was Dragon God! There was also a sword that apparently was supposed to be used for this battle but I didn't have Str requirement to use it (Fromsoft moment💀) so I was barely reducing its health with the spear at the final stage of its battle fsdhfdhsdf

2) Val also earlier explained to me what demons in this setting exactly are and how they come to exist, it is so cool! Apparently, Dragon God appeared because of the legends local people created around giant bones found in there?? This is so cool! I love how there are both concrete rules while also a huge freedom to what demons can be!

3) As soon as I saw the message that I've killed an Archdemon though, my instant monkey brain response was to go back to Boletaria Palace and cross the fog gate after Iron Knight XD LMAAAO at that one Fat Official doing the reverential bow thing fjhhsdhs

Discovered that you can climb over certain places and jump down, as well as climb up too? This is strange

4) I died several times at this area tho -_- I insisted on clearing the level, though Val kept telling me over and over to drop it for later. Got cornerguy'd, got burnt by stepping on a dumb burning rock (no offence, it was ALSO burning my enemies when used right lol), fell into water, and also THE FUCKING STUPID. FUCKING GODDAMN STUPID ARCHER GUY. WOULD NOT FUCKING EVER STOP SHOOTING AT ME, THROUGH. THE FUCKING. WALL. Eventually Val told me that I can't clear this area because I literally fight Allant in the 1-4 (idk what this Mario ass levels terminology is sdfjdsfjh) so I scolded him for "not having told me sooner" and left lol.

5) Went into Latria instead! And this was going to be it for the rest of the evening.

6) Why are you me, I am me???

No, seriously, I started as Magician (always use magic because skill issue lol) and haven't changed my catalyst or clothing since the beginning! It jumpscared me to find my own people set here xD

Val explained to me that this is the prison for magicians because Soul Arts was what brought the First Scourge or whatever, but that by now the purpose was changed. Though we speculated how it could work to have different tutorial areas depending on the starter class, and how funny it would be if starting as Magician would make your tutorial area this prison instead xd (Not my actual suggestion ofc, it would be too much of a typical videogame, and From isn't like that!)

7) Something DID make me sad tho:

So at some points I started freeing these guys, and they were following me, which was fun...... until it wasn't.

Like, I actually felt bad about non-hostile ones ;-; How hard it was to just make them like, run towards the exit upon being freed and despawn?? I literally had to kill them to be able to move normally, especially when they started to pile up, nothing personal 💀💀💀 Honestly, Miyazaki knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted us to feel bad about killing the guys who did nothing wrong and just were confused and happy to be freed. Bruh this guy was always the same. 💀💀💀

8) Met this woman:

A funny #videogamemoment btw: you see her sleeves? They look pretty narrow and closed, right? WRONG:

When I caught her singing, turned out that her sleeves were fucking LONG as fuck XD The clipping of the texture is so bad that when she puts her hands together, the long sleeves clip through the skirt and become invisible hfhfhdsd Why this is so funny

9) Remember how I said that I felt uncomfortable if not guilty for killing the prisoner guys? By this point I ended up instead going out of my way TO kill them even if they were literally just standing there in their cells and doing nothing sdjfhdhsd Val was so confused as to why I'd keep doing it compulsively even if they don't drop more than literally 3 Souls hdfsdhd Guess I came around lmao XD

10) So, I've picked this set.....

...and Val revealed to me that it IS the John Demonsouls' set, but it looks different for female character. :> ...really. Fucking REALLY. Are you SHITTING me. DUDE. You DO NOT fucking make the SET OF JOHN SOULSBORNE LOOK DIFFERENT BASED ON GENDER.

Can you guys NOT touch the universality of John pls т.т It is sacred, it is not a Pokemon game where the girl and the boy protag are different fsdhhfdsh Well at least they haven't done that in any other game since...

11) Met one of the bootleg Brainsuckers guys in the narrow corridor where I could not just spam magic at him and panicked, saying that there was no way I could kill him because his magic went THROUGH shield, nor there was anywhere to hide :s While still being mad at how it was "impossible", I just somehow automatically adapted to rolling and hitting with melee weapon fast enough. k

12) Got to see the stained glass that is not in the cutscene that I've already seen though videos:

Certain lighting from what I've seen so far made me question if this hair was dark blond or whatever, but nope! This is a very brown hair if I've seen one! That makes me think of something from earlier (for another post)

13) @heraldofcrow say THAAAAANKS to Val, because he spoilered to me that I should have killed this guy btw:

(The punchline is that for some reason I was going to already do that anyway XD)

14) Finally got to meet and freed this guy:

I swear, From has a thing for the imprisoned wizard type shsdhfsdd

15) I got to fight Fool's Idol, it was a super easy first try! I could fucking figure by myself that magic would not work, and instead decided to opt out for the bow! I was just sniping her while hiding behind the columns all the time, so it was easy to not get damage and quickly figure out which one was the real! Val was mad at me because he didn't expect the bow strategy to work so well XD

WHY THESE GUYS TAKE ME IN ANOR LONDO AFTER THIS BATTLE THO WHAT IS GOING ON LMAO

16) Okay so after this I decided to go back to Nexus and call it a day. What can I say... Latria's level design was not bad at all. @fantomette22 made it sound to me like it was absolute hell but it honestly was fun? I only barely got annoyed by the maze layout towards the end when I died to that guy in open space and forgor how to get back to him, and only because I wanted to sleep

17) Funny thing: later on I jumped down from the staircase in this spot, and happened to land JUST on Freke!

It almost aggroed him lol xD It is funny because I literally knew he was there, but still made this mistake lol

Also, his apprentice is such a fucking simp lmao fdjhhsdsdf It would be very nice if I could mass-screenshot somehow because his dialogue about Freke is SOOOOO defensive, I found it funny fdhhds

P.S.: Cute beret tho

P.P.S.: If I end up simping for Old Monk or Queen of Latria instead of for Allant like I was meant to I am SUING @heraldofcrow. (I should be suing Val instead probably but bullying the one member of Lore Council who can't reliably retort is more fun)

[the-corpse-ninja]

sinful-feminae​:

She didn’t back away, but merely stood there as he came closer to her. Not out fright, because Charlie knew he wouldn’t try to hurt her, but for a reason she couldn’t quite place yet.

When he mentioned Valentino, her eyes widened and brows rose as she dropped her pant from pure shock. “He said what!? And you did what!? Oh, this was bad. This was really bad…While Charlie had never met Angel’s boss, she knew that he was a powerful Overlord who she shouldn’t piss off. Even if she wasn’t the one who did

She was abruptly brought out of her panicked state when she felt his hands on her bare body. Suddenly, Charlie had forgotten what she worried about. The only thing she could focus on was that energy she felt from Ryu’s touches. The demoness idly wondered if he could feel it too.

“Ah…” Was the only word she was able to utter out, her gaze traveling down to the hand that was on her waist. “W-was that all…?” She found herself saying, hyper-aware of the sensation of his fingers slightly pressing into her skin.

Ryu was frozen to the spot now when he made contact with her, his hand gently feeling out how soft her skin was, there was a light rush of heat rolling through him suddenly. her skin was smooth, soft. His eyes were locked with her own now as he loom over her..”I uhm...Yeah I...I think that was it...I’ll handle any problems if they come from it..” He muttered, but his words seem to trail off..

This strange energy, this odd sense of connection through physical contact. Slowly his hand rolled fingers up and down her sides, as his other, leather wrapped hand came up to her face again, and he slowly rolled fingers through her long golden hair while brushing it from her face...They were alone now...Nobody to interrupt them, this time...

He started to lean in slowly again, his nose touched hers. His scarred lips an inch from her own soft lips, warm breath sliding out..”Ch-...Charlie..” He whispered her name, but...Forgot what he was going to say..

It was the last word he said before he leaned in firmly, and caught her lips with his own, kissing the Princess rather deeply, warmly...”Mhhh..”

“Forgot to Knock” - Charlie, but lets be real, Ryu just barges in like a jerk

Send “Forgot to Knock” for Your Muse to walk in on Mine stripping out of their clothes..

She had just stripped out of her pants when Ryu barged into her room. Charlie froze when she saw him, now standing in just her undergarments. Once she came back to her senses, she attempted to cover herself with her pants she had just taken off

"What--I--Ryu! I'm changing!" She exclaimed. "Don't you know how to know how to knock???"

[hqrbinger]

Help yes it was an event req LMFOAOSOAS anyways less hyper this time💀💀

Neck kisses w scaramouche and xiao :DDD

summary; neck kissses <33 pairings; scaramouche, xiao x reader (no pronouns used) warnings; a bit suggestive! nothing explicit or too crazy tho, lots of kissies, no beta notes; HEY MO <33 i have not stopped thinking abt this since u req this so i'm poking my head out of my hiatus just to write this rq <33 xiao's is a little shorter bc i got so carried away with scaras but anyway i hope u enjoy this my love !! and i loved this so much that i wrote drabbles instead of hcs omfg my brain (also this song is so hot it multiplied the brainrot x 1000) song; so beautiful; DPR IAN | 300 event !

reblogs are highly appreciated <3

you have scaramouche trapped. he glares up from under you, his knuckles going white by how hard he's gripping the desk you cornered him against, his tense posture and heavy breaths betraying him. you hum, fingers only barely brushing his skin as they travel up the length of his free arm to lace between his, keeping both of you steady as you continue your assault against his neck.

your pointer finger lazily drags his shirt collar down, his breath hitching as your soft lips brush against the base of his neck, pressing soft, sweet kisses until you find his collar bone, a small swipe of your tongue earning yourself a surprised groan from your lover.

his fingers grip yours a little tighter as his breathless voice dips down to your ear.

"you're being so good for me."

you hum again against his skin, your attempt to hide your flustered face making him chuckle.

you make your way back up his neck, relishing in his delicious reactions to each open-mouthed kiss. as you get back to that one spot by the corner of his jaw, you remember his words prior to your steamy little session:

"no hickeys."

you briefly wonder if it's worth the trouble, but your foggy mind is only telling you yes.

the second you bite down the absolutely sweet sound he makes sends proud tingles through your limbs, but the moment is short lived, as suddenly his hand is in your hair, roughly pulling you off of him. his other hand grips your hip roughly, spinning the two of you so you could take his place cornered against his work desk.

"you think that's funny, don't you?" your chin is gripped firmly between his slender fingers, his face so close he was almost speaking into your lips. your mind was hazy, feeling hypersensitive to his tight grip on your wrist and his hand tangled in your hair, aggressively pulling to the side to better expose your neck.

"well, darling," he said the name almost mockingly, but you can't help the way it makes you shiver. "don't think i'm going to let you off for not following my instructions."

xiao is almost never prepared for your random bouts of of affection, and this time is no different. he grips your hips tightly, his head is bowed, hiding his completely flustered face into your neck as you attack his own, each kiss sending shivers through his entire body.

with one of your hands gripping his nape and the other holding his arm for dear life, you place kiss after kiss against your boyfriend's neck, savoring each grunt and groan he makes with a smile.

your aim was to take things slow, not wanting to push him out of his comfort zone. but on the other hand, you weren't sure how long you could restrain yourself.

not when you know how his little muffled growls sound when your teeth graze against his skin, or how his breath hitches when your lips meet certain places. every time he presses himself impossibly closer, your resolve breaks just a little more.

so you continue with the same rhythm, taking things as slow and steady as you could, the barrage of lingering, soft kisses never-ending.

but suddenly, the hands that were so rigid against your hips slid up to your arms, his hidden face leaving the safety of the curve of your neck.

"stop teasing me," he breathed, leaving a kiss against your ear as he spoke. you froze in surprise, blinking up at his incredibly red, but determined face.

"w-what-" you choked out, stammering as he dipped down to your jaw, mimicking your previous actions as you were left a flustered mess.

"you know you want to," he murmured between kisses, his hand coming up to hold your opposite cheek lovingly.

when he bit down you were sure you were dreaming, clinging to his shoulder as you breathed heavily, knees feeling weak.

"a...are you sure," you managed, hiding your own face against xiao's shoulder.

"yes," he said firmly. "i want..."

he drew a way slightly, tilting your chin to so you could meet his eyes.

"i want to feel you."

© hqrbinger. all writing and works belong to me and me only, do not repost, translate, or copy any of my works under any circumstances.

[the-corpse-ninja]

Send ♏ to find my muse in nothing but their underwear! @shattered-by-sparks​

It was probably his fault for leaving the bathroom door unlocked, but actual working showers were pretty rare to find, more often then not, if one wanted to bathe, they had to own a house, or go to a bath house. Out on travel cold rivers or the rare hot springs were the only other times to wash..

The occurrence of having to share a single room in a full INN...

Thankfully he wasn’t naked...Well not completely naked anyway. A pair of black, tight boxers cling around him, but the rest of his form was on full display.

Ryu was tall, and lean and yet built with hard, toned muscle. The body he sported stated it was one built for strength, forged though intensive training and showing just how he could wield such a massive blade with ease, more so in the broad, dense shoulders and firm long arms.

His skin was pale virtually without flaw...Except over his heart. A large slanted scar ran along from his peck down a few ribs, a matching mark behind him in the same shape, an exit wound; suggesting Ryu had taken a near fatal blow to the heart. Such a wound however would have been more then fatal to anyone, posing the question of how he could have survived.

Silver hair still slightly wet, dripped small beads down his torso, leaving shimmering wet streaks, like drips from melting ice running down a snowy rock. His mismatched eyes were soft and warm when his gaze fell on Rin. In most cases, someone would be embarrassed or freaked to have been walked in on while only in their underwear. Ryu being dense as he was, and desensitized to the ways of his people, took very little reaction to the woman standing before him, he could have been butt naked and he more then likely wouldn’t have had any different reaction to her presence.

“Hey Smalls...There’s plenty of hot water left, some woman brought up fresh towels as well...I’m done so take as long as yah want..” He muttered while picking his clothin’ up off the floor, along his heavy ass boots. towel wrapped around his shoulders now as he brushed past Rin to get dressed in the other room..

[the-corpse-ninja]

infernal-feminae​:

Her face paled at seeing the now smashed window with the succubi and inccubi crawling over each other to try and climb through it. Only made worse when one succubus recognized her from the ‘Hell’s Hottest Babes’ segment. She was hoping everyone would have forgetten that by now…

“N-NO!” Charlie yelled, her voice most likely getting drowned out by the noise. “THERE WILL BE NO ORGIES HERE!”

Her eyes darted around trying to look for a quick escape route, because it was only a matter of time before the lust demons broke through. Turning towards Ryu, she exclaimed, “It looks like we only one other option!” Then she quickly grabbed onto the human’s hand and started pulling him along with her. “RUN!!!!”

He watched them smashing out the windows as he and Charlie tried to hold them off, the screams of excitement and lust getting louder, they were like a hoard of the Undead, except they wanted to eat flesh in a much different way. Succubi and Incubi were demons well known on earth. More so they fed on sexual energy, they could last multiple rounds when in heat and had extreme amounts of stamina in this state. Getting caught by one or two wouldn’t be a problem, but this many? It was most certainly a scenario of “DEATH BY SNU-SNU!” For him and Charlie if they got ahold of them..

“SHIT!” He felt Charlie pull him by the hand, and they would only just round a corner when the sounds of the door and table being smashed open was heard behind them. “FUCK! WHERE TOO? WE GO DOWN A DEAD END, WE’RE SCREWED! LITERALLY!” He yelled as he followed along behind her..

[the-corpse-ninja]

sinful-feminae​:

Her chin was lifted easily, her gaze now meeting his own. “Maybe~” She whispered, her tone playful. Hands slid up his arms to wrap themselves around his beck as she closed the distance between them. 

Getting a little impatient, Charlie captured his lips with her own, her fangs lightly grazing his skin in her eagerness. She could barely hold herself back when she was alone with him likes this. He intoxicated her, and Charlie was pulled in by his energy all too willingly.

He reached down and grabbed her behind her thighs when the kiss came on, only to pick her up into his arms and wrap her legs around his hips. Pressing his lips into her own as their kissing became all the more warm and passionate. He nipped her bottom lip back and slipped his tongue into her mouth, slowly rolling the tip around her own to tease.

She was very different in private, the sweet, bubbly little cinnamon bun, was replaced with a hungry little kitten. He walked her back against the wall and pressed Charlie against it, breaking the kiss and moving to her neck, biting her again as he hands started to push her suspenders down, making attempts to untuck her shirt and unbutton it..The only thing on his mind at this moment...Was to get her naked...

👄 - For Charlie, along her neck with those fangs of his

Send 👄 for my muse’s reaction to yours giving them a love bite.

Charlie sucked in a breath as he bit along her neck. Side-eying him, a hint of a smile was on her lips. "Looks like the hickeys are intentional this time around~" She teased, referring to when he bit her neck to released the command seal.

[the-corpse-ninja]

“I mean...It’s not tah bad..” There was still enough room to wash their bodies, though, they would more then likely need to wash eachother based on the fit. It was probably because he was just so largely built and her shower was more a private shower..He didn’t mind bathing with someone else, hell he had to shower with his team-mates long ago when younger and training..

“So how yah wanna do this? Yah want me tah wash yah first or..” He was slightly distracted with her wet breasts pressed against him, her naked body so warm and nice, he couldn;t really help but find himself getting lost in her eyes as the hot water rained down on them both..

🛁 - A Hot Shower with Charlie

Casual Nudity Memes

🛁 - Shower with my muse

"A bit of a tight fit isn't it?" She chuckled, feeling a bit nervous from Ryu's added presence. Not that she minded him, but she never showered with another person before. Although, she knew it probably wasn't that big a deal to the ninja.

@the-corpse-ninja

[the-corpse-ninja]

sinful-feminae​:

Her breath hitched when his nose was close enough to brush her own, his lips just a hair’s breadth away. She vaguely heard him whisper her name, before she could utter out his name, he was kissing her. 

That was the only thing she was truly aware of, as her arms snaked around his shoulders, wrapping themselves around his neck. “Mmm…’ She moaned into his mouth, tentatively kissing him back. Charlie was acting purely instinct, but somehow, this felt right.

She subconsciously pressed her half-naked form against his clothed body, her hands sliding down from his neck down his chest. She tugged insistently at his clothes, hoping he’d get the hint.

He heard the small moan and held her tightly to him as his hands kept her body close, he was so much taller then her, that he had to bend over low to get those lips. His own caressing and feeling along her’s in that kiss. It had been so long since he had actually kissed a woman, but the action of it was still there..

He felt her hads siding from his chest to his neck and back again, and then he felt the tugs at his vest and leather straps. He broke the kiss and pulled back as a thumb slid over her lips gently, feeling them out while he stood up straight. Both hands however, slid back down her body, and he tugged her pants open from the button and pushed them back down her legs so she was only standing in her bra and little panties again, before he pushed her back against the wall. Ryu pulled back and slowly removed his sword, laying it against the opposite wall, next he removed his long red jacket. and then undid the multiple leather straps along his with his vest. Soon standing before her shirtless..

His body was hard and strong, everything to be expected from a warrior. His Hunter’s Rank tattooed into his chest just under his neck. His right arm for a moment would seem to still be bound in leather, until the straps and black vest had been fully pulled away. Showing that Ryu’s entire right arm, was made of what seemed to be a black synthetic skin, something as smooth as leather and skin..But obviously not real..

“Sorry...” He muttered, glancing to the side. “It’s a long story how an’ why...But..I lost it long ago. This arm isn’t real...Least I can still feel with it. So it’s real tah me..”

“Forgot to Knock” - Charlie, but lets be real, Ryu just barges in like a jerk

Send “Forgot to Knock” for Your Muse to walk in on Mine stripping out of their clothes..

She had just stripped out of her pants when Ryu barged into her room. Charlie froze when she saw him, now standing in just her undergarments. Once she came back to her senses, she attempted to cover herself with her pants she had just taken off

"What--I--Ryu! I'm changing!" She exclaimed. "Don't you know how to know how to knock???"

[the-corpse-ninja]

He was silently observing her, and in the back of his mind, he did like something about it. What was it? She smelled nice, she looked good, she was...Comfortable. Was that it? His eyes roamed along her cleavage showing through her bra, down to those shapely hips, down those long legs and back up. It made his long, silvery hair spike out as if a wolf. Without really thinking, he came closer to her, slowly, step by step, even as she pulled her pants back up..

“U-uh? Uhm...Yeah...I-...” He froze looking her in the eyes. Shit what was he doing? Why did he come to find her again? Oh right..”Uh there was some wierdo at the door...He had a top hat on an’ a big furry coat...Heart Glasses, said somethin’ about wantin’ tah see the spider...Said if Yah don’ go talk to him he was gonna come back with a bunch-o assholes an’ wreck the place..”

He gave a slight growl..”Then he pissed me off, so I told ‘em tah fuck off an’ go get his goons...An’ I slammed the door in his face..” He wasn’t going to say what pissed him off...Val had insulted Ryu’s eyes, an’ that was a bad idea..

“So..Yeah, I’ll take care o’ it, should he be talkin’ real...Yah know...” He placed a hand on her Bare shoulder, and one along her bare waist. ZAP! There it was again, that weird energy, that want to touch..

“Forgot to Knock” - Charlie, but lets be real, Ryu just barges in like a jerk

Send “Forgot to Knock” for Your Muse to walk in on Mine stripping out of their clothes..

She had just stripped out of her pants when Ryu barged into her room. Charlie froze when she saw him, now standing in just her undergarments. Once she came back to her senses, she attempted to cover herself with her pants she had just taken off

"What--I--Ryu! I'm changing!" She exclaimed. "Don't you know how to know how to knock???"