#fat brat sings

[hotxcheeto]

I loved your double trouble fic, could you make another ellie x reader x Abby? No specific plot, go crazy w it <33

━ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader x Abby Anderson

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, SMUT, porn w/ no plot bro, vaginal fingering ( r! receiving ), strap on use ( r! receiving ), kissing, make outs, descriptions of c*m, oral ( r! receiving ), slight degradation, dom/sub mechanics, slightly mean ellie and abby, dom!ellie, dom!abby, sub!reader

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - ooo bae I'm sorry this took so long but it was def fun to write!!! the title is based on the brittanny spears song "3" because for some reason threesomes always make me think of that song that I should not have been singing at such a young age LMFAO. I'm glad you liked double trouble, ily!!

PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK!! ITS APPRECIATED!!

"Don't stop, please Abby–"

The room was dark besides the sun peeking in from the window, setting below a horizon none of you cared to see.

Instead all you could focus on was the girl between your legs.

Her fingers making an obnoxious sound as she fucked into you, kissing your knee before leaning back down to return to her assault on your clit and then tease the outside of your hole where her fingers were currently occupying.

Abby's palms pressed hard against the fat of your thighs keeping them almost impossibly far spread. Fingers keeping you so full and going so fast that it made your mind melt and mouth run dry as you struggled to catch your breath.

But you couldn't, no matter how hard you tried, clawing at her, leaving fresh marks on her skin for her to admire and tease you for later.

Your chest heaved heavily, your head absentmindedly turning to the face the other girl that leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed. Watching your body move and squirm with a smirk on her face.

"Ellie.. Ellie c'mere– please, please–"

It was pathetically adorable, she thought as she pushed herself from the wooden frame and took the few short steps towards your outstretched arm.

"Shit." Ellie whispered to herself but no longer was she looking at your face and was instead admiring the way your hips bucked up into Abby's mouth. The blonde not hesitating to slam you back down into the mattress with her free hand and getting you to whimper.

"Oh– m–m'gonna cum–mm–" You cried, Ellie's stare moving up your body that had been covered in your own perspiration. Shuddering and tensing all while holding back just for her.

Abby hadn't slowed nor stopped even in light of your efforts, fucking her hand knuckle deep into your cunt while her warm tongue circled your clit. Her eyes scanning your face as you gasped and choked at the feeling of the tips of her fingers running along your most sensitive spots.

"Gotta ask Abby nicely.." Ellie finally spoke as she kneeled onto the mattress beside your head, letting you grab out to her and squeeze as hard as you wanted in a desperate attempt to release some of the tension that had spread its way through your body.

"Please Abby– plea–" You continued on, babbling incoherent asks of your girlfriend which made her smile.

"You gonna be good? Can't give a brat a reward baby, y'know that."

You nodded quickly, still clutching onto Ellie.

"I'll be good, I promise– please.." Your voice died out, throat sore and scratchy, pleading eyes moving from the one laying down to the one hovering above you.

"I promise–"

"Up to you." Ellie tilted her head and shrugged at Abby, getting off the bed and disappearing towards the toy she'd been using earlier.

Barely a second passed that her words had left her lips that Abby began to fuck you with her tongue, thumb pressing down on your clit.

"Go on pretty girl.." Abby teased, continuing to play with your hole with her warm muscle. "You earned it."

You came against her mouth, legs shaking and mind becoming as heavy as a ball of cotton. Your screams and sobs like music to their ears as Abby fucked you through your orgasm.

Head digging back into the pillows, your entire body arching in a bad attempt at getting away from the overwhelming pleasure. It all became too much too quickly.

Your loud mouth, as Ellie called it, only becoming quieter when Abby pulled hers from your cunt.

She kept you on edge though, not wanting you to lose the feeling and instead slowly moving her fingers in and out of your pussy.

Just then, after a moment, she had sat up to look over at Ellie, letting out a puff of air while listening to you try your hardest to catch your breath.

The only thing you could feel though, in your dazed state, was her leaning on your knee and playing with you like you were just a toy for her. In and out, then she'd run her fingertip around your hole and circle your clit, all to keep you waiting.

You'd learned your lesson in complaining though.

"You ready?" Ellie rolled her eyes at the sound of the question.

"Is she?"

Abby wiped her mouth with her knuckle, glancing at your wet cheeks and then your watery, half lidded eyes. Chest moving up and down much slower now, glistening in the orange evening glow.

It reminded her of a painting.

"You ready for Ellie to fuck you?" She moved up, leaning down to you in order to give you a kiss. The interaction making you forget the fact that it wasn't over just yet.

"Huh babe?" She asked as she pulled back, holding your cheek in her palm. You nodded at her, leaning into her touch as you did so.

"Roll over for her then."

You did, whining at the feeling of being empty and sore but you continued moving to get onto your stomach without much of a fuss, Abby's hands gripping your hips to lift your ass up.

"Fuck." Ellie muttered as her eyes raked over your fucked out form. Doing so as she came over to kneel behind you, her strap bumping your thigh.

"Look at that pretty pussy, you're all wet for me." The fat tip pressed against you making you shove your face into the pillow that you'd gathered in your arms. "All ready to be full."

She watched in awe as you sucked her in, pushing the silicone cock into your cunt with ease at how horny you still were. Quickly bottoming out and grinning at how your ass looked pressed against the plastic harness.

Abby watched just the same, only from her spot against the headboard where she got to admire how your whole body jerked forward with each of Ellie's thrusts.

Going from slow to quick before your mind had a second to catch up with the rest of you. Squeezing your eyes shut while her movements got deeper and faster while you could only gasp and choke on your own air.

It was their favorite sight. Tits bouncing, skin slapping, the sweat forming on your forehead reminding both of them how long you three had been at this. The room hot and stuffy, thick with the smell of sex.

Your cries and moans were swept away soon after when Ellie grabbed your neck and then your face, squishing your cheeks.

"Look at Abby, look at Abby baby." You met the blondes eyes, her expression blank but her eyes told another story. "What do you say to her for letting you cum?"

"Than–thank you Abby.." You dragged her name out, seeing a smile appear on her lips. "That's a good girl."

"You're taking Ellie so well baby." Abby then said, wiping away your tear stains from your cheeks, caressing your face in her palm. "Yeah? You like when she fucks you like this?"

You nodded exasperated, sniffling in but it was almost inaudible by the loud sounds of skin on skin bouncing off the walls. Filling the room to the brim making it the only thing you could really hear.

"Fuck, you're doing good." Ellie stared down at the fake cock disappearing in and out of you, a white ring forming around the base where your ass met her pelvis. Smearing up and down as you bounced on her.

The silicone bumping into your clit again and again bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm.

Abby's hand then grabbed your ass cheek making you turn to look back to see what they were doing. Barely able to though from how shaky your arms were, and how hard Ellie kept you pressed into the pillows

She was watching how Ellie's strap was being swallowed up by you, both girls smiling to themselves at the sight. Cum soaking your thighs and coating the fake cock.

"You're doing so good babe," "Fuck yeah she is." Abby's fingers then slipped underneath your body, toying with your clit. "She's taking it like a pro, right baby?" Ellie added, her hair sticking to her face.

You muttered an incoherent string of words that neither of them could understand, gripping the sheets until your knuckles went sore and your eyes rolled back

"What was that?" Abby asked, taking her hand away and moving to look at you again, lifting your head from the pillow with her hand.

"Think she's had enough?" Ellie mocked, Abby giving her a look. "Leave her alone, she's been good." But her voice lacked the sincerity that Ellie's lacked as well, but your mind was too far gone to realize it.

"Can–can I cu–cum now please. I'll b–e good, I promise, I promise.." You said it again and again, Abby only staring at your fucked out face and pleading eyes with no readable expression.

"Ellie?" The blonde raised her eyebrow, dropping your head.

"Go ahead pretty girl, but what do you say?"

"Thank you– oh– thank you, thank you–" You said it over and over like a mantra as you came, cum dripping from your cunt and onto the bed while your legs officially gave out.

But Ellie kept you up, shoving you back against the dick while staring forward at your face in Abby's grip. Feeding off of each reaction you had while trying to form sentences that only came out as noises.

Her green eyes then focused on the way you clenched around the toy and cried as you did so. Your entire form finally dropping when she let you go.

It was quiet for a moment, Abby pushing away your baby hairs while kissing your sweaty forehead. Comforting you and quieting your whimpers when Ellie slowly pulled the strap from your abused hole.

"You took that so well babe." Abby spoke as her thumb rubbed comforting circles on your cheek. "Of course she did, she's our good girl." Ellie's head appeared beside yours, her lips lightly kissing your forehead.

"Ain't that right?"

PLEASE REBLOG!!! Liking does nothing to boost and I like when people actually get to read my stuff!!

[kentoberry]

SING IT TO ME — toji fushiguro.

pairings ⭒ dilf ! toji x babysitter ! reader.

about ⭒ toji didn't pick his son's babysitter purely on her résumé.

content ⭒ [ 18+ ; minors do not interact ] ⭒ f reader ⭒ age gap (toji in his 40s, reader in their 20s) ⭒ sp@nking ⭒ dd/lg themes ⭒ f!ngering ⭒ daddy k-nk ⭒ many pet names.

"ya like that, princess?" toji growled. "not so bad for an old man, eh?"

he spat on your cunt once again, smirking as his fingers resumed stretching out your pretty hole. your back was arching off of the mattress as your body had endured countless orgasms on toji's hand, throat feeling dry from the amount that you'd begged for him to give in and stuff his cock inside of you. 

"daddy. . ." you drawled, crawling closer to exhaustion and coming down from yet another high. 

"you okay there, doll? need ta stop?"

you immediately shook your head, toji chuckling at how desperate you were for him. slowly, he slid his fingers out of you, placing a tender kiss to your clit as he praised you for being a good girl for him. you couldn't help the wanton mewl that slid past your puffy lips, mentally cursing your oversensitive cunt.

"t-touch me," you mumbled lazily.

"what's that, sweetheart? i 'av been touchin' ya, silly thing," toji wasn't above teasing you despite your vulnerable state, knowing that you were aware that it was all in good fun.

"no, no," your babbles continued, "need you… need your cock in me," you trailed off.

toji tutted. "where are yer manners, princess? i thought ya were being good f'me; do i need to punish yer bratty ass?" 

"no!" you yelped, even though his punishments were always quite enjoyable. "'m so- i'm sorry, daddy! p- please, wan' you s'bad…" 

you were cute, toji would give you that. a sweet young thing, half his age, grovelling to him and begging for his fat cock. he definitely had chosen the perfect babysitter to take care of his little megumi. yeah, the kid liked you and you practically treated him as your own, but what the man truly adored was the way your ass looked in those skinny jeans, the way your tits looked in that swimsuit when you had accompanied both fushiguros to the beach. it was certainly unprofessional of him to hire you for such superficial reasons, but every time that you were pinned down under him, crying for him, he didn't have the slightest regret. and considering your sugary sweet tone as you called him "daddy", he didn't think you regretted anything either. 

toji perched on the edge of his bed, patting his lap for you to come and lay across it. you always did your best to be the best doll he could ever dream of, but there were occasions where the innocent guise slipped and you accidentally disobeyed one of his rules. toji was never one for brats, and you were certain that if you gave him a reason to, he could break you.

"don't make it any worse f'r yourself, princess," he threatened, although his words retained a slight saccharine flavour. 

you did precisely as he said, crawling across to his lap like a lost little puppy. although it was almost demeaning the way that you so willingly laid across his meaty thighs, you couldn't deny the sparks that it sent to your cunt. 

"count." he commanded, tone sharp. you yelped as he brought his hand down on your bare ass, unable to halt your squirming as the pain overwhelmed you for a brief moment. 

"what did i fuckin' say?" toji spat, ignoring the tears brimming on your waterline. "c'mon, say sorry 'nd i'll keep it nice."

you mustered up every last bit of composure that you could, and rambled out: "'m s-sorry, daddy… 'll be good… i promise!"

toji took pity on how pathetic you looked, yet was also somewhat enthralled that you allowed yourself to let your guard down with him. consequently, he mumbled a soft "good girl" and massaged your sore skin before spanking you with equally as much force once again. 

"t-two!" you whimpered, trying to ensure that your quivering voice was loud enough that toji would hear it. this back and forth continued until you'd counted to eleven before uttering your safe word. at that point, tears were cascading down your puffy cheeks and your pussy was dripping. 

"shhh," toji cooed, using his extraordinary strength to lift you up to straddle his lap. you instinctively curled into his chest and let him spout all the praises under the sun in an attempt to calm you down a little. "princess, yer so wet," he stated. "how's about ya take my cock as a reward, yeah? daddy's gonna fuck his precious girl and make ya feel better? make ya cream all over m'cock?"

you nodded.

"big girl words, love,"

"please… daddy, i need you s'bad… please, please, please," you chanted, donning your best puppy dog eyes to meet his piercing emerald ones. 

"good girl, daddy's gonna treat you so well,"

[hyewka]

HIHII hard hours open,, my specialty,, (😭) OK so last night i was thinking about. vv annoying bratty switch jun who honestly only agreed to be a sub cuz u wouldnt stop asking and he wasn’t expecting u to… well. be able to handle him and end up begging for him to take the lead in the end 😕 well that plan completely backfired as u end up having to tie him up/handcuff him and continuously edge the boy cuz he wouldn’t stop being a brat and let u have ur dom moment 😭 bro ends up nearly breaking the restraints (or he does?? up to u 😌) because of how frustrated he was because hes so used to cumming whenever he wants as dom :((( aaand then. comes switch jun cuz as soon as u untie him and say how good he was he just has this feral look in his eyes and completely flips you over on 4’s and pounds the shit out of u and saying shi like “u rlly thought i’d let u get away w all that? how about i do that to you now??” 😔 sigh so mean of him ..

warnings: praise kink, bondage, dacryphilia, pet names, non proofread filth, switch!jun

being a sub is something yeonjun is not used to, especially in his relationship with you. hes only had experiences where girls would ask to take a lead and still somehow find himself on top by the end, grunting ‘good girl’ and singing praises with an annoyingly smug face as he harshly thrusted in and out.

so when youve straddled yourself on top of his lap, grinding your half clothed pussy on his bulge as you heatedly kiss, breathing being a second priority, and in between, whisper “let me take the lead today” hungrily, he only nods, an overconfident smirk slipping into the kiss—not thinking you’d go through with it.

but you do.

“you’re actually going to tie me up?” he says with a tilt of his head, sitting at the edge of your bed, watching you look through your drawer.

his pants were unbuckled, and his lips were swollen red from your lipstick, his hair was untamed — he was ready to tease like he always did but you stopped his hand telling him that you’re going to get things from the drawer — which he only assumed to be a rope.

you finally find the thing you were looking for, dangling it in front of him squealing a little. “gonna handcuff you”

he only lightly scoffs, an amused smile appearing as his eyes focused on your pretty hands cuffing his hands together. “c’mon, are you actually going to go through with this?” he whines as he watches you pushing his jeans down completely, revealing more clearly his dick outlined in his boxers, rock hard.

you roll your eyes as your hands slip out his fat cock, precum leaking from the tip — ready to pump it. “jjun, shut up and let me get you off.”

you know hes not going to take you seriously, so instead of doing the usual quick pump and swallow, you roughly push your hand up and down at his girth a corner of your lips slowly forming up as his body tense up, slightly buckling into your hand with his close shut as he breathes out curses — he was close. when you stop your rigorous unapologetic speed, his eyes shoot open.

“w-what are you doing—shit, i’m close!” he yells frustrated, his hips now desperately buckling in and out of your hand.

when he notices a dark glint to your gaze, he naturally finds himself squirming and feeling himself turn small, even as he tries to break the handcuffs off his hands.

“you’re dangerously confident for someone cuffed”, you sneered, your hand still tightly restraining his cock from moving in and out. “jjun, i’m punishing you until you can be a good boy for me, alright? so try your best to cooperate.”

it proved to you edging jjun was a struggle, because though his usual confident dominance crashed and burned, he still thought he had a chance of taking over as he bit down on his bottom lip, holding back any moans that might slip out. but it eventually got to him, as you looked up at his face, his eyes clearly unable to hold back any tears.

“please”, he squeaked as you edged him again, for the fifth time, unable to control his lewd moans especially as you slip your hand up under his shirt, squeezing his nipples. “let me cum”

you almost coo at the sight— with his cheeks flushed red, his eyes wet with tears, and the messiness of his face with his swollen red tip right in your face. you pout as you pick up your pace again, deciding he did his best.

“hnng—y/n, g-go faster, go faster please!” you smile as you finally accomplish your goal of making him beg, generously opening your mouth, taking in his tip like a hungry dog as your hands harshly pump his cock — you dont expect to immediately feel a rush of warm thick liquid spurting in your mouth the moment your tongue touches his tip, but it does, and you feel accomplished as you swallowed his seed.

yeonjun smiled weakly, satisfied but worn out, as you got up.

“that was fun, huh?” you say heading to your counter to get the keys meant to unlock the cuffs.

your hear him hum in agreement and you smile. when you go over to unlock his cuffs, you look at his face, dried with tears—and give him a little peck on his lips for reassurance. “you did well baby” you whisper. you don’t notice, but yeonjuns breathing becomes heavier again.

as you unlock his cuffs, you continue to talk. “i mean, it was a little hard at first, but once you let out your pretty moans, i knew you were going to do well and let me take care of you pup.”

once the cuffs were off of his wrist, set right next to him on the bed, you near his ears again, “you’re such a good boy”

and that was yeonjun’s last straw.

his self control snapped, as he pulls you to fall on top of him then flipping you right on your back, slipping his tongue roughly in your mouth, kissing you like a hungry, rabid dog. “im gonna” hes busy kissing you as he tries to continue, “f-fuck you so bad”

you’re only shocked as you return his kiss, already moaning as his raw dick rubs in between your flimsy shorts. he quickly manages to turn you over, your ass shot up, with the side of your face buried in a pillow.

he pulls down your shorts along with your soaked panties, in no time, your bottom half being completely unclothed as he doesnt prepare you for his big cock thrusting right inside your sweet cunt, his hips relentlessly snapping back and forth, as his hand is fist full of your hair, keeping your head down.

“gonna fuck you all night” he grunts as he pushes into you. “thinking you can get away with what you did dumb kitten?”

you cant respond as your mind fogs up, eyes rolled to the back, mouth hung open as pornographic moans mindlessly fill up the room along with nude skin making rough contact.

yeonjun pulls your head up with the amount of hair he has in his hand, and now youre in all fours as he reaches to push his tongue in your mouth when you turn your head back to him—that was preciously stained with his cum.

his movement staggers as he reaches his climax once again, shooting his cum inside you. when you feel the warm seed spreading in you, it elicits your orgasm — causing you to chant “i’m cumming jjunie” like an animal, breathless.

when you both get quiet, only heaving as you breath in and out to catch your breaths, his dick still deeply buried inside your tight cunt — you unfortunately find that your precious edging was a booster of his stamina.

you think hes going to finally pull out but it only happens for a split second until he sharply thrusts into you again, his seed being fucked into you further.

“call me a good boy”, he whines, his tone being different than his sharp thrusts and his strong hold of your waist, “call me a good boy” he demands this time.

“nng—jjunie—y-you’re” a moan slips out of you again when his cock hits a good spot, “such a good boy”

when his third load is released inside of you, it being even thicker and more filling than the previous ones, you knew yeonjun was planning to teach you a long, long lesson.

[ofsappho]

Heartless, Chapter 9

🔞 Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader 🔞

Fake marriage/marriage of convenience

-

Ghost makes it up to you with a dance. SMUT. Tags under the read more.

-

Sorry about the wait. Stuff has happened. Surgery. Really bad autoimmune flares. My back has been bad. I'm depressed. I haven't been doing well at all. Thanks for being patient. Smut tags: cowboy hat stays on, exhibitionism, public sex, heavy degradation/humiliation, minor bratting, squirting

Ghost POV

This place is a shithole. Ghost has spent time in a few shitholes, and your chosen pub ranks marginally better than that dingy karaoke bar in Sasebo where Roach caught food poisoning from bad sashimi.

And there you are.

In the middle of the fuckin’… wood-paneled floor, your shorts riding low and your shirt riding up.

Some American bloke sings about “country girl twerk,” whatever the hell that means, as you dance. Your cheeks are red, and you have one of the widest smiles he’s ever seen. Fuck phantom pain - phantom happiness coils in his stomach, seeing you so full of joy.

You stomp, scuff your boots on the floor, and keep one hand on your dinky hat so it doesn’t fall off. The hat looks squished and stained like it already has.

And your round, delicious, fat arse… you’re grinding and shaking and doing shit you should never do outside of your bedroom. His mouth goes dry as he watches the recoil. Goddammit. He’s only a man, with a man’s appetites. Your plush, full tits bounce in time-

Ghost tucks himself in a corner without a second thought, the drunk crowd flowing past him like he isn’t even there. It takes a second before he’s as composed and unflappable as always. You’re far too skilled at rattling him for your own good.

He’s so enamored by the show that he almost doesn’t notice the fuckers swarming you like wasps. Tipsy, ugly, bloated wasps, the worst specimens of the Londoner species.

Your little bitch fit isn’t worth the court-martial for murder. Although, he might consider it if that one man’s hand gets any closer to your arse.

Ghost sends them scurrying with nothing more than a look. Pathetic.

“What’s a girl like you doin’ in a place like this?” He murmurs, his hand reaching for your waist like you’re a magnet dragging him into your forcefield.

The glitter looks…

Ghost is bad at this. The ‘describing’ thing.

The little flecks of light dance across your face and surround your eyes like fireflies late at night.

Eyes that are currently glaring at him like you’re trying to set him on fire. “I’m not talking to you right now.”

He’s never seen anything more lovely in his life.

“Where’s the Colonel?” Ghost knows exactly where Alejandro is. When he walked in, he saw the other soldier carefully monitoring your situation from a table two meters away.

Awareness prickles down his spine, that extra sense that comes with fighting and (almost dying) with someone. That’s the sound of the Colonel’s stride.

“Behind you,” You grumble sullenly.

Ghost doesn’t flinch when Alejandro clears his throat. “Lieutenant.” Simon turns to meet Alejandro’s tanned, outstretched fist with his own gloved knuckles.

The colonel scrutinizes the visible parts of Simon’s face. It’s like a test.

At last, the colonel smiles and nods, and Alejandro’s tense shoulders fall into a more relaxed position.

That’s when Simon knows he passed. “I got it from here,” He murmurs.

The fuckin’… demented squirrel feeling with claws in his lungs starts to dissipate. You’re safe. You were safe this whole time. And the Colonel was gonna protect you from everything, even Ghost himself.

He should get the fucker a potted plant or some shit to thank him.

Alejandro tips his ridiculous straw hat. “Copy that. Good luck.” The other man melts back into the crowd, no doubt for one last drink before clearing the premises. Alejandro has no interest in witnessing what Ghost has planned.

Simon understands. He almost pities you.

There’s something shiny and slick on your lips. It distracts him when you pout. He wants to take your bottom lip between his teeth and leave marks. He wants to see if that gloss is flavored vanilla or peach. You wear peach-flavored lip balm sometimes - it drives Ghost mad.

“You weren’t answerin’ your phone. Why do you have it if you ain’t gonna use it?” He says roughly. Fuck. Your expression falls, and your cheeks flush red from anger and the alcohol he can smell on your breath. He’s messed up already.

You sway on your cute little boots, and he wants to reach out to steady you, but Ghost is afraid you’ll push him away. “Go fuck yourself,” You hiccup.

“You made me come all the way out here to find you.”

You scared me shitless. I missed you.

That hat finally slips from its perch as you tip your chin down in a sulk. “You didn’t have to. I was fine.” Simon catches it in his gloved hand on instinct. Obviously, you care about the damned thing.

Far more gently than he thought he could, he sets it back atop your head and then smooths a few stray strands of hair behind your ear.

-

Reader POV

It is so not fucking fair that Ghost gets to look so intimidating and handsome when you’re supposed to be mad at him.

And it’s also not fair that the simple act of giving you back your cowboy hat makes your teeth ache and sets drunk butterflies flapping in your stomach.

Everything is so hot. You’re covered in a fine layer of sweat from the dancing, and your husband watches a bead of it drip down your throat past your collarbone.

“Yeah? Three blokes grinding on you is ‘fine?’” When Ghost’s eyes glitter menacingly in the low light under his mask, your heart rate picks up, and your clothes feel too tight.

You gather up the hair stuck to the back of your neck without thinking, inadvertently flashing an even-more generous handful of cleavage.

“They were showing me a better time than you ever could,” You snap, one hand over your boobs to keep them from spilling out of your uncomfortable underwire bra entirely.

That was the wrong thing to say.

Ghost growls, shaking his head like an aggressive dog after a wounded bird. “Got half a mind to take their hands off for touchin’ you.” No, that was the right thing to say.

You like knowing you can make him jealous. “As delightful as that sounds, that isn’t an apology.” You can’t let him off that easily, though. Nope. Never.

“What do I have to apologize for?” He asks, looking away at some random mysterious dot on the floor.

The list is long. But first on the list, above all the other shit, is that he needs to apologize for making you want him to apologize. And for the large hand he’s wrapping around your wrist like a comforting weight anchoring your floaty, tipsy self.

You’re not supposed to lean into Ghost’s touch and long for him to draw you into his arms.

Falling into his orbit is as natural as breathing. “Ghost. You are the most insufferable, rude, miserable pig I have ever had the misfortune of knowing-“ You rant, your voice rising louder and louder over the music.

You never thought he’d be so horrible as to come here and feed you some bullshit, just to watch you pant and debase yourself for an apology that Ghost seems to have no intention of giving.

When you try to hit his chest, Ghost grabs both of your hands.

“‘M sorry,” Simon whispers so quietly that you almost doubt what you hear. The pink spotlights whirling across his mask make his eyes look painfully soft.

“…What?”

Ghost clears his throat. “For not dancing with you. For… for being so… rude. I- I shouldn’t have treated you that way. You deserve better.” His hands slide down your arms until they’re resting on your hips, tight enough to leave you with zero doubt about his intentions but not so tight that you can’t push him away.

And then it’s like he doesn’t need to take the mask off at all for you to see his expression. That’s how well you know the shadows of his face. You could map them in your sleep.

If your hands were free, you’d bring one up to his cheek to feel his remorse under your fingers. “Oh,” You murmur. You don’t feel drunk anymore. You’re stone-cold sober as you gaze into his eyes and find something sweeter than those lemon drop shots lurking in the darkness.

Ghost furtively glances around to ensure everyone else is too wasted to look twice before lifting your hand to his masked mouth.

The painted cloth is soft as it brushes your knuckles. “Would you… uh… may I- may I have this dance?” He asks, stumbling over the words a few times.

Fondness melts your anger faster than a snowflake would in midsummer, and it’s a better rush than any whiskey they sell in this place. It goes straight to your head and makes you grin from ear to ear. You tuck your hands into the collar of his jacket and pull him down because the couple of inches between your bodies feel like too far of a distance.

He’s here. He’s really here for you. “You’re not dressed appropriately,” You tell him, half-teasing, half-serious.

Ghost immediately shakes his head. “Limited time offer.” But he doesn’t pull away or grow stiff. His hands brush your waist, and then his gloved fingers slip between the waistband of your shorts and your sticky, heated skin.

“That’s not very nice,” You say with a coy smile. This close, you’re sure he can smell the peach-flavored lip gloss painting your mouth.

Ghost grumbles performatively for a second. “You are welcome to… do whatever the hell you want.” 

It comes to you in a flash of tipsy inspiration. “Here.” You let go of him long enough to pluck the hat from your head and settle it neatly atop his balaclava. “Looks better on you than it did on me, baby,” You murmur appreciatively.

Oh yeah. Fuck yeah.

Your mouth goes dry as you take in the view.

Ghost looks like this incredible tower of muscle and brawn and cowboy swagger that you want, no, need to climb all over. This man is straight out of a calendar of hot male models. You want him to do disgusting, explicit, horrible things to you in the alley outside. His skull balaclava is as menacing as always, and you feel drunk on its glory. The cheesiness of the hat ties everything together.

By God, does Ghost pull it off.

His gloved fingertips grind into your skin, deep enough to leave rapidly-fading red marks. You want more than that. You want bruises.

“Yeah?” Ghost asks, a little touch of amusement softening his gruff voice.

You want it so bad that your eyes flutter just thinking about it.

Your husband catches it and pulls you towards him until there isn’t any space left between you.

You melt into his chest, wrap your arms around his neck, and look at him through your eyelashes. “Mmhm. So cool. I can’t stay mad at you, not when you’re so,” You trail off, suddenly distracted by the slick dampness of your underwear and your nipples pebbling under your bra. “Pretty! Like a regular Clint Eastwood. You here to arrest me, cowboy?” You tease as you rock your hips toward his.

Then he’s palming your ass with a deep, muffled groan, squishing the flesh like a man obsessed, bouncing your cheeks in his hands.

His tight, possessive grip lights a fire in the bottom of your stomach. “You’re drunk, love,” He tells you as you coil around him and push your tits into his muscular chest.

Ghost is trying very, very hard not to look down your almost-nonexistent shirt. “No, I’m- I’m pleasantly tipsy.” Your mouth moves without you even realizing it. “You do look fine as fuck. God. You know I love those jeans.” Maybe you’re still a little drunk, but you’re not mad about it.

Ghost is totally blushing under the mask. 100%. His eyes dart to the side, and he clears his throat. He’s so cute when he’s flustered.

“We’re in public,” Ghost murmurs. That’s the least effective, least sincere protest you’ve heard in your whole life. At last, your husband miserably loses whatever internal prudish battle he was fighting and takes in your cleavage like he’s taking in a masterpiece.

“I’m not even joking when I say I would, like, crawl, like on my hands and knees to suck your dick right now. With the hat on. Please.”

You’re not like this. You’re never like this. But Ghost wants you. He came out here for you. And you need to show him exactly how much you appreciate it.

He coughs. “Woman.” He sounds so scandalized as if he hasn’t literally cut your clothes off your body and fucked you stupid before.

Ghost tilts his head so you can lift the edge of his mask and kiss his throat. “Pretty please. If you like me at all, you’ll let me? I’ll give you the best head of your life. I can’t believe I’m fucking begging a guy to let me blow him. God, look what marriage has done to me,” You whisper.

One of his hands reluctantly leaves your ass so it can tangle in your messy, sweat-soaked hair.

He tugs your head back. “Look at me,” Ghost hisses, his eyes a beautifully wound up pitch black. “Hey. Behave. Be a good girl.” Your scalp aches but fuck, does that feel amazing. Especially when he slides his knee between your thighs, mixing the pain with pleasure as he forces you to grind.

“Or what?” You gasp.

His other hand grips your chin. “Or I’m not going to let you suck my cock,” He tells you slowly, deliberately.

So blowing him is still on the table tonight.

Ghost tightens his grip bit by bit until your lips part.

“…Fine.”

He releases your hair to shove his mask down long enough to kiss you. There’s his teeth nipping your lips, his tongue insistent against yours, a shared, breathy, drawn-out moan echoing from your throat and his. “So bratty tonight,” Ghost whispers into your mouth. With one last kiss, he draws back.

The brim of his borrowed hat knocks into your face as he does, and you giggle as he straightens it.

For all you know, the rest of the world has gone to hell. Everything is Ghost and his warmth, filling up the cavern in your chest left by his earlier rejection.

The smile drops from your face. “You only care when I act up.” Is this going to be a habit? Do you have to throw tantrums, scream, and cry so he looks at you twice?

No. No. Your marriage won’t be like that. You’ve got years of experience watching your mother pant after your father’s approval, and she didn’t even love him. The thought of living it makes you sick.

Especially because-

Because one day you might love Ghost, and it would kill you to know he didn’t feel the same, yet could still command you like a dog. And out of that hypothetical, alleged, not currently existent love, you’d obey.

“That’s not true.”

You hope the tears welling in your eyes leave your fake lashes intact. “Is to. I just- I just want you to look at me like this all the time. I want you to care all the time. Is that too much to ask? And dance with me because it’s important and, fucking, I want you to take me out for coffee like normal people-“

“What kind of coffee?” Ghost stops your anxious, tear-filled ramble in its tracks.

Suddenly, pink lights silhouette him. They shine around his hat in a delicate, flushed halo, a shade you often see in fresh sunrises and beautiful sunsets.

There’s a sticky sweet center under his prickly exterior, like a mean cat once it gets used to you. And you might not be in love with him yet, but you love how sweet he can be.

When you were younger, you would empty every Halloween candy bowl into your bag while trick-or-treating. You learned how easily people could take things from you unless you were greedy and grasping, unless you dug your nails in so deep that it left marks.

You should do that to Ghost. But in a healthy way. “I like fancy lattes with long names and ridiculous price tags,” You say. “And foam hearts on the top.” You refuse to share his sweetness with anyone else. You’ll protect it - one day, Ghost will learn you’re trustworthy. Just like with Soap, you’ll protect Simon.

“Tomorrow, if you’re not too hungover… we’ll find somewhere with fancy coffee.” He starts rubbing at your cheek as he speaks. It takes you a second to realize that Ghost is picking at the specks of mascara left by the few tears that did fall. He navigates deftly around the glitter and touches you like you’re holy.

“And you’re gonna let me put your dick down your throat.”

His laugh is deep and throaty, a little rough from disuse but plenty warm.

The song playing switches to something slow and easy. A man croons in a low, smooth voice about a last night and the girl he’ll spend the rest of his life waiting for.

“First… we gotta dance.” Ghost takes you by the hand and pulls you toward the center of the dance floor.

-

Ghost POV

It takes every bit of Simon’s concentration to focus on you in his arms and the even pace of his breaths.

Inhale, exhale.

Your pretty eyes glow happily as you look up at him, flickering like opals in the low light.

The drunk on the corner isn’t reaching for a knife. He’s just finishing his drink.

This close, he can smell the coconut scent of your shampoo mixed with salty sweat and a deep, mouth-watering musk. Your hair is a mess of tangles, and the blush staining your cheeks is hibiscus pink.

You’re the most beautiful thing Ghost has seen in his whole life.

That red flicker in the corner of his eye isn’t a sniper dot. The raised voices are friends arguing over who’s paying the tab, not the specter of his father following Ghost even here.

His dad hated music. Fuckin’ hated it. He broke every radio they owned, smashed them into bits in various fits of rage. Once for playing music too loud, once for not being loud enough. And forget dancing. Forget flowers for Mum or family drives on Sunday, or any of the things fathers are meant to do.

Ghost should get you flowers. You’d like them. It would be the sort of gesture that would make you smile as you’re smiling now, like he’s your hero, like you think you’re the luckiest girl in the whole world.

He tugs you closer to knead the soft flesh of your hips and feel your body moving in perfect sync with his. Ghost isn’t half good at dancing, but you have enough grace for the both of them.

Back and forth. Back and forth. He counts the steps in his head.

“Look at me,” You whisper as you tighten your arms draped delicately around his neck.

He watches you sway, and the glitter on your cheeks sparkle with the movement. The flutter of your long, curled eyelashes makes him dizzy. He wants to take this mask off and kiss you, right here, right now, like a regular guy with a gorgeous woman on his arm.

Like in the movies - the ones with happy endings.

The air grows muggy with heat from the people moving and grinding on the floor. They talk, they grin, they take selfies. Nobody shies away from him in fear. He’s part of the crowd.

You rest your head on his shoulder. “It’s okay, baby. You’re doing great.” The kiss you press to his jacket goes straight through the fabric and into his bones, warming him like good bourbon.

Ghost feels bold enough to try twirling you. He worries he might be too uncoordinated or awkward, but you take the hint and effortlessly glide away and then back toward him. Your hair fans out behind you as you turn.

Beautiful.

“If you say so, love,” He murmurs.

-

Reader POV

This is a wonderful, amazing, and tender moment and everything…

But when Ghost adjusts his borrowed hat atop his mask, you’re a goner. He’s too busy being perfect and remarkably romantic to notice how you feel like you’re in fucking heat.

“C’mon, babe. I want another drink,” You drawl as you tug him off the dance floor.

You make a beeline for the friendly bartender, dragging your husband through the crowd like you’re parting the Red Sea. His hand tenses in yours, and you stop just long enough so Ghost can move in front of you, away from the people bumping into him.

The bartender winks once she spots you. “Hey sweetie, back already?” She asks as she waves away the bachelorette party trying to order from her.

Next to you, you feel Ghost stiffen and place his hand on the small of your back.

You lean forward so she can see down your shirt and keep one eye on Ghost’s mask the whole time. “Oh, you know me. I can’t stay away from your gorgeous eyeliner and excellent drinks,” You say with a coy smile just bordering on flirtatious.

His hand slowly makes its way up your spine, stopping to snap the elastic band of your bra against your skin to get you to quit it.

“It’s my pleasure. What can I get you, sugar?”

Ugh, that’s so immature of him. “What do you recommend?” You ask before sticking your tongue out at Ghost and crushing his toes under your boot heel.

He responds by resting his hand on the base of your neck where even the bartender can’t miss it.

As the bartender thinks, she taps a manicured nail against her lip gloss. “Pretty girls should have pretty drinks. Isn’t that right, Mr…”

Ghost squeezes your neck slightly - a gentle reminder of who you belong to. “Her husband,” He says curtly.

The bartender makes a show out of raising her eyebrow and looking at your ring finger. “Oh, I didn’t know you were married. What a shame. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. ‘Her Husband.’” She’s not even looking at him when she speaks. She’s only got eyes for you.

Being admired by anybody feels good. It feels even better to know that Ghost stews in silence as you preen. You wonder how far you can take the bit before his self-control snaps and he drags you out of here.

A shiver of pleasure goes through you at the thought.

Ghost exhales through his nose. “Put her tab on that,” He orders as he tosses a credit card on the bar.

She pulls out a chilled shot glass and a variety of colorful liquor bottles. You recognize Kahlúa and Bailey’s, and there’s some sort of vodka. Amaretto might be the fourth mysterious liquor.

“The other fellow with the other hat has her tab covered. But I can definitely put this drink on your card,” She says as she layers the liquors one after the other with a bar spoon to keep them from mixing.

Then she swipes Ghost’s card at her register thingy before handing it back, along with a crisply-layered shot. “There you go. A Screaming Orgasm for the lady. Receipt?” Her smile is as alluring as it is gloating.

He shoves his card back into his wallet like he’s loading a gun, each movement tense with fury.

You feel him forcefully wrap his arm around your waist and pull you into him. “G-Ghost, what’s wrong?” You ask, pretending like you don’t damn well know what’s wrong.

Ghost boxes you in with his legs on either side of yours and both arms around your waist. “Drink that. Now,” He mutters as he rests his chin on your head.

The bartender has made herself scarce by now. That was a good choice on her part.

His grip tightens until the rough material of his gloves bites into your sides. You take your time with the shot, stopping to tap the bottom of the glass on the bar before throwing it back.

The literal second after you put the glass down, Ghost hoists you away from the bar and the bartender trying to steal you away. “We’re going. Come on.” He puts you down only when he can intercept any attempts to return to the bar for more torment.

His rough treatment melts away momentarily when someone almost bumps into you. Ghost’s reflexes kick in and hold you back half a second before the drunk man stumbles, and then he sweeps you past the dude before you realize what’s happening.

You stumble out into the brisk night air. The London light pollution has chased away the stars, leaving a flat, dull black sky behind.

“Where are you-“ Ghost interrupts you by shoving you back towards the brick covering the outside wall of the pub. Your head spins, the inside of your mouth tastes like sugar and alcohol, and your knees grow weak from Ghost’s casual display of strength.

And then he practically tears the fabric of his mask away from his mouth so he can fucking ravage you.

He kisses you repeatedly, one hand fisting in your hair and the other clamped around your hip, helping him grind his dick against your clothed cunt.

Ghost groans with pleasure when he tastes the sweetness from the shot, and you sink your teeth into his lip to extend that beautiful, desperate sound.

Here, pinned between the wall and his broad, muscled torso, you’re absolutely, utterly helpless. You squirm and plead in small, whining noises, your combined saliva drips out of your mouth, and your tongue loses the battle for dominance against Ghost’s tongue.

Just when your eyes start to roll back and your muscles slacken, he moves away. “You want it that badly, eh? You little slut?” He kisses messily across your cheek, then down your throat.

You tug at his shoulders, trying to force him closer, and you can feel your arousal leaking through your shorts. “Yeah, I’ll give you a fuckin’ screaming orgasm,” Ghost swears into your sweat-soaked skin before biting down hard.

You tremble and shake, he bites harder, the pain goes straight to your hard, aroused nipples and the fire burning low in your belly.

“Yeah?” You moan with your head thrown back and eyes shut.

As people leave the bar, Ghost shoves his thigh between your legs, so you have something to rock your aching clit against, then clamps his hand over your mouth when you cry out in pleasure.

“I can’t fuckin’ believe you’re into this. There’s something wrong with you,” He hisses cruelly in your ear.

You moan louder with your tongue out as your hands untie your top at record speed. Your clothes are too tight, unbearably clinging to your skin, and you need them off right now. You work on the fly of your shorts next, hastily unbuttoning them so you’re almost completely exposed.

Ghost shakes his head in disapproval and slides the hand covering your mouth down until it encircles your neck. He tightens his grip, carefully cutting off your blood flow and forcing you into that peaceful, floaty place where you’d beg him to do whatever he wanted.

You let out a low, choked gasp, drool already beading at the corner of your kiss-swollen lips. “Aw, you going dumb already? I just gotta put my hand around your pretty throat, and you’re moaning like a whore?” Not content with being the only one undressed, you scrabble for his belt and unbuckle it with single-minded determination.

“Think the whole block can hear you yet?” Then Ghost kisses your temple sweetly in sharp contrast to his low, ice-cold tone.

He makes no moves to stop you from clawing at his jeans. If anything, he eagerly thrusts his hard-on into your palm as soon as the only barrier between you is his boxers.

You feel him, heavy and thick and warm through the cloth, and smile like a cat who’s got the cream. “You love it, Ghost. Admit it. You fucking love this. I can feel how fucking hard you are, yeah? Is that for me?” You retort, wrapping your hand around his dick and pumping it a few times for good measure.

In the dark of night, you can barely make out his clenched teeth and eyes shut tight as he fucks your hand. “It is, love. It’s all yours. Now are you gonna be a good girl and suck my cock?” Ghost purrs, grabbing your face by your jaw and forcing you to look straight at him.

“I thought you’d never ask.” You sink to your knees eagerly, ignoring the gravel biting into your bare legs.

But just when you move to pull his underwear down, Ghost stops you with his hands manacled around your wrists.

“Hey, now hold on,” He chides.

Your brain fucking short circuits. His dick is right there. In your face. So close. Saliva gathers on the back of your tongue. Why is he fucking gatekeeping you? Do you have to beg?

You see a mean light shine in his dark eyes when you look up. Oh yeah, he wants you to beg. His hand slides into your hair, then pulls your head back until your mouth hangs open.

Someone laughs in the background. Footsteps crunch over gravel.

London will watch you beg on your knees for your husband’s dick.

Yeah, you’re game.

You pout your lips. “What? Why? Please? Please? I know you want me to. I can be so good to you,” You beg, your eyes round and dewy with want.

Ghost tsks. “Yeah? But you’ve been so bad, love. You’re acting like a common slut, pawing at me in public. Right here, where everyone can see? Are you sure you deserve it?” His thumb slips between your lips, and you give it the treatment you’re trying to show him; sucking, licking, your eyes fluttering, loud, explicit, over-the-top moans.

“Please. I- I literally, I am desperate. I am begging. I want- let them know, let them see, just- I-“

Ghost takes his thumb back with a satisfied smirk. “Look at you, can’t even make a full sentence. What a stupid, dumb, adorable little princess. Go on.” Then he shoves his boxers down, revealing an angry, mean, painfully-stiff erection, the mushroom tip red and beaded with precum.

You need no further instruction.

You viciously spit into your palm and then draw his shaft into your mouth.

In your first attempt, you get a little less than half of Ghost’s thick cock down your throat. Then you pull off to take a deep breath, your eyes watering from the unexpected intrusion.

Before Ghost can do something annoying like ask if you’re okay, you take him in your mouth once more and bob up and down.

He grows harder with each stroke of your wet, sloppy mouth, you can fucking feel him twitch and strain against your cheeks. Ghost’s hand tightens painfully in your hair, and you hear him gasp and groan when you use your tongue on the sensitive underside of his bulbous tip.

Ghost gazes down at you as if you’re the answer to his prayers, like he believes that he’s the one who should be on his knees. “That’s it, there’s my bitch. Your mouth looks so good sucking my cock, love.”

Your senses fill with the musky, salty taste of him running down your throat with the excess spit and dribbling down your wrist as your hand works the part of his length you can’t swallow completely.

“Fuck. Your mouth- fuck…” Ghost curses, unable to control his hips rolling against your face, pushing himself deeper and deeper in.

You look at him through your lashes and hollow out your cheeks, sucking long and slow.

Under the eye black, his face is flushed red from arousal, and sweat gathers in the hairline you neatened up. “Ahhh, shit, c’mon, you can do it. Take all of it. Attagirl.” You’re trying, really. You’re doing your absolute best.

When the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat, your eyes roll back, and you cry out. Your gasp makes your throat muscles quiver and vibrate around him.

Your jaw aches, and all you taste, smell, and feel is Ghost cracking your mouth open, Ghost fucking your throat, Ghost tearing away your thoughts and your air and replacing it with him.

He growls, spitting out curses like he hates your guts, his grip on your hair trembles. “Is it too much for you, princess? Are you crying? Fucking dumb whore, crying like you weren’t begging me for it. Goddammit, you’re so fucking good at this.” The praise fucking melts you into a malleable pile of mush. You love it. You’re his princess, his whore, and now, everyone knows.

Everyone is watching. You need to be good for him, you want to be perfect.

Your throat muscles relax, allowing him to slip in another inch further.

You gag and retch around his thick, swollen cock. “Christ. Yes, fuck, keep going,” Ghost pants. He’s breathing fast through his nose as if he’s beating someone into the ground. “You are so- fucking- gorgeous when you choke. Do it again.” His command bounces around in your empty, cock-drunk mind and, after a couple of seconds, fully registers.

Just when you pull your fist away and try to touch your nose to the wiry hair above his dick, Ghost forces your mouth open just that tiny bit wider and slips- all the way in.

Your eyes widen with panic, and your hands try to push him back, but Ghost tugs harder on your hair until the sting reminds you who you belong to.

He’ll let you breathe when he wants you to, you just have to trust him. You’re just a warm, wet hole for him to ruin. “No, no, no. Don’t try to run- shit- run away,” Ghost warns as he fucks your throat with a messy, uncoordinated rhythm that picks up. His thick, salty precum gathers in a pool on the back of your tongue, and you gulp it down greedily.

Your tears fall in earnest. They blot out your vision until all you can see is the silhouette of his hat, dark against the dim street lamp.

You brace yourself on his thighs to stay upright.

“It’s yours. All yours. Take it. Take- me-“ His moans are almost as loud as the sound of his cock sliding between your lips, wet and slick, combined with your wordless begging for air, for more, for his cum.

Come in my mouth, you pray deliriously, practically insane with need. You can’t keep up with the pace Ghost sets and struggle weakly to move your head in time. You’re helpless in his capable, dominating hands.

His swollen cock twitches, and he shudders.

He’s going to come soon. Is Ghost also picturing his sticky, salty cum in your mouth and on your cheeks, and how you would look flashing him your messy tongue before swallowing it? He’s practically biting through his bottom lip with how badly he wants that. Your aching, leaky cunt clenches in time with your racing heartbeat.

Ghost shoves your mouth back on his dick one last time. “No,” He tells you as he pulls out.

Wh- what?

You’re stunned into silence. He was fucking your face, but then he stopped but… but why?

You sit there and look at him without a thought behind your hazy, languid eyes.

As bits and pieces come back to you, your brow furrows. “But I want it,” You whimper in the most pathetic, hoarse little voice.

Without realizing it, your slick hands drift back up towards his erection, which hasn’t softened one bit.

Ghost merely shakes his head, entirely unmoved by your pleas. “You ran off without saying a word. You don't deserve for me to come in your mouth. Get up.” His voice is ice-cold. Underneath it, you hear how worried Ghost was. How you frustrated him, how he missed you.

A rush of shame goes through you, dousing some of the burning under your skin. How could you do that to him?

When you don’t move, Ghost reaches down and hoists you up by your elbows with a huff. “Off the ground. Up,” He barks. He still hasn’t taken the gloves off. You can feel a couple of strands of your hair caught in the Velcro wrist buckles.

Ghost efficiently strips you out of your soaked shorts and ruined, filthy panties. You stare blankly at him, so aroused and on the edge that your brain and vocal cords can’t put a complete sentence together.

He pats one of your gravel-bruised knees, then the other. You lift your feet accordingly until you’re naked from the waist down, other than the cowboy boots.

Without the cloth to hold it back, the slick dripping from your bare folds makes a shining trail down the inside of your thigh.

When Ghost pushes you up against the wall and hooks his arms under your knees, holding your plush thighs open and ready for him, you comply in a daze, hardly able to put two words together.

Your back arches as his teeth catch in your throat, alternating between bright pain and his tongue lapping at your skin, soothing away the sting.

Then Ghost gets one of his arms under your ass, carrying your entire weight with ease. “Can’t do that to me again, doll. I almost lost you so you could fuck around with some random blokes at the pub? Nah. I think you need a reminder of who you belong to.” With his free hand, he shoves your bra aside to take one of your swollen nipples into his greedy mouth.

The man fucking feasts on you, growling into your sensitive tits, sucking red hickies everywhere, and insatiably tonguing your nipple. “Ahhhh-“ You moan with your head thrown back and your nails clawing at his hoodie, trying and failing to mark up his back.

Each suck and lick and kiss goes straight to your clit, aching in the cold night air; tension builds in the base of your spine, and you can’t think, can’t hear, or see.

Once he gets his thumb on your clit, rubbing tight, furious circles, your eyes shoot open. “Good girl. Dumb baby,” Ghost taunts as you struggle and writhe, you bite down on your lips to hide your shrieks, and your arousal soaks his glove.

At first, you think he will warm you up, take those messy gloves off and stretch you out on a few thick fingers, but he doesn’t. “‘M gonna fuck you so good that you forget about them. You are going to be a dumb- speechless- brainless fucking mess once I’m through.” He grabs his hard, fat cock, hoists you up a little higher, and rubs the head against your folds.

Your cunt flexes, keeping him from sinking inside you as if your body instinctively knows it’s too much.

He huffs out a frustrated laugh and then lifts you onto his cock despite your protests. “No- Ghost, please, you’re too big. You won’t fit, you’re ruining me…” You sob, helpless, as he slowly feeds his dick into your hungry, needy pussy. Your eyes roll back, and you almost bang your head on the wall.

Gravity- gravity is not your fucking friend right now.

In this position, your body weight forces you down onto his shaft, and every inch feels like it goes on forever. Slowly, Ghost begins to rock his hips back and forth, molding your cunt around him.

Your thighs quiver as you cry out. Your juices drip down the base of his dick that he hasn’t managed to shove into you yet, covering him in slick.

“Aw, it’s okay, doll. Don’t worry. Shhhhh. Relax. You’re okay,” He reassures, his voice steady despite his fingers clutching your legs hard enough to bruise.

Then Ghost does something. He stops holding back and forces your thighs back a little more until he’s almost folded you in half.

When the tip of his cock thrusts into that sensitive spot deep inside your pussy, your eyes cross, and you jolt, strung out, absolutely fucking gone. “Fuckkkk-“ You pant, pleasure tightening in your tummy. Your hands tug on his face until he leans down to kiss you, his tongue slipping between your lips.

In a single smooth motion, Ghost slides home. “Oh shit. Shit. Your poor cunt, you’re so sensitive. I can feel you- clenching- and twitching every time I-“ He cuts himself off with a moan, his heavy balls brushing your ass every time he gently grinds into you.

Your limbs seize and twitch, tingles echoing and building through each muscle.

Overwhelmed, blissed-out whimpers flow from you as he fucks you deeper, faster. “Ghost, Ghost, fuck, you’re stretching me open, I can’t take it-“ You beg, practically feeling his dick in your guts.

His pupils blow out, he has a look in his eyes like a predator subduing prey, and you’re more than a little frightened. Ghost towers over you, and you’re completely at his mercy. He could do anything he wants to you.

He is doing what he wants to you, precisely as you need from him.

Your mind shuts off once you realize it, and you sink into a thrilling, primal, feral state of being a bunch of nerves and trembling flesh for him to use and torment. Ghost pins you in place with so much giving, loving, possessive adoration that it makes your teeth ache.

He gasps when your stretched core flutters around him, sucking his cock in as if your muscles are trying to trap him in your body.  “Poor doll, look at you. You can’t take it? You can’t take it?” Ghost mocks your whining while focusing the rest of his attention on fucking your brains out.

“Fuck, fuck, right there, yes,” You wail as your sloppy cunt drenches the front of his jeans.

He hoists you higher in his arms so he can nail your g-spot. “Feels good?” This is how you’ll die; pleas and curses dripping from your lips along with strings of saliva, sweat coating your skin, and webs of ecstasy threading through you like lightning.

You want to feel like this forever; it’s purer than any high and so good that your nerves short out.  “Yes, yes, please. More- I need more…” Your plump tits bounce and jiggle from the force of Ghost rutting into you.

Seeing your red cheeks and mouth hanging open and your breasts heaving drives him insane with desire. Somehow, his cock pounds you deeper, even harder, and he finds a way to grind his jeans against your puffy, swollen clit.

Ghost gently presses his lips to yours, a complete mockery of the wreck he’s making of you. For a long moment, it’s just the two of you, breathing the same air, and the slick squelches of your fluttering, sopping-wet folds as he buries his veiny cock balls-deep.

You’re pretty sure your thighs have small cuts from the rough edges of his gloves, and your neck hurts from the manhandling, but you’re too busy focusing on each breath as everything around you goes fuzzy to care.

Ghost tells you something, his tone low and commanding. It’s his fault you can’t answer - if he wasn’t ruining you for anyone else, thrusting into you with a brutal, punishing pace that’s too much for your sore pussy to keep up with, you might have been able to respond.

Each time he bullies his cock inside, you almost feel like you’re coming. The pleasure is a knife laying you bare before him, and you trust him, you need him, and you want him to destroy you and put you back together. “Who’s fucking you? Use that smart- damn it- mouth.” Ghost slows down, switching to a deeper, gentler rhythm, just enough to clear the fogginess clouding your senses.

Your pussy weeps around him, constricting and spasming as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.

“Ghost,” You wail, strung out, your cheeks bright red and your forehead damp with sweat.

Your husband kisses it away, then peppers your cheeks with little pecks. “Who’s making you feel good?” He presses you back into the wall, covering your almost-naked, debauched body with his own.

When your hands seek out the edge of his balaclava, Ghost tips his head so you can get under it and claw the shit out of his neck.

The sight of the hat, still somehow on his head, makes you clench even tighter. He’s just so fucking hot and beautiful, and oh fuck, Ghost is fucking massaging your cunt with his cock while kissing your breath away.

“Ahhh- you- you are, shit.” It’s all him, his dark eyes, and his pale skin flushed with exertion. You flail in his arms, trying to somehow ride his dick while being held aloft.

His voice rumbles in your ear as he growls, his breaths labored as he nears his own orgasm. “Rub your clit, doll. Go on. Make yourself come. Good girl, my perfect, perfect girl,” Ghost encourages you before speeding up again, unceasingly notching the fat tip of his dick against your g-spot, basically helping you use him to get off.

Reluctantly, you remove one of your hands from where your nails are carving bloody furrows into his skin to slip between your arousal and precum-soaked bodies.

It’s like a fucking slip ‘n slide down there, your combined juices trickling into your puckered asshole and all over his balls.

The moment you shakily press the pads of your fingers against your clit, your spine jolts and bows as euphoria rushes through you.

It feels like you’re desperately clinging to the edge of a cliff, trying to maintain sanity and presence of mind, but your oncoming orgasm burns in your veins, the pleasure crawling up the back of your throat and constricting your lungs.

“You’re so fucking beautiful when you take my dick.” Ghost sounds like a man unhinged, in total awe. You keep circling your hypersensitive clit, giving up words in favor of animalistic, high-pitched noises and wails.

The brim of the cowboy hat bumps into your cheek when he buries his face into your neck, biting and sucking hickies in time with his deep, shuddering thrusts.

You squirm, bouncing your hips on his dick, and your wrist cramps. “You close, love? I can feel it.” Tears stream down your cheeks, and drool sticks at the corner of your mouth. “I can feel you clenching around me. Do it. That’s it. Come for me.” You feel Ghost’s eyelashes wisping over the skin of your throat.

That’s it. That’s all it takes.

You come screaming at the top of your lungs to the stars, the night sky, and anyone listening.

Your cunt gushes and gushes as you tremble in Ghost’s arms, making a fucking mess with your come, your muscles milk his dick, rippling, squeezing, and pulsing with the waves of bliss drowning you.

Your nails rip little holes into his mask. Ghost fucks you through it, of course, dragging it out even while your eyes shut because it’s too much. “Fuck fuck fuck Ghost! Aaa- fuuuuck.” It doesn’t subside or die away; your orgasm grows stronger, shaking you like a fucking earthquake, your hips jerk uncontrollably, and you pull your fingers away from your swollen, tender clit, too sensitive to keep going.

You choke and sputter as your mind goes blissfully, perfectly blank. Electricity blooms in your veins, lighting up your guts like the fireworks on the Fourth of July.

You try to catch your breath, but the shocks won’t let up. Fresh wetness coats your thighs when you squirt again, this time weakly.

It’s supposed to end. Why isn’t it ending?

Ghost is laughing at you. It’s not a mean laugh. It’s frenzied, he’s on the brink of shattering. “That’s fucking right. One more. You have one more in you.” He’s so close to coming, but he needs that extra push.

His cock stiffens inside you, and you swear you can feel every prominent vein against your pulsing walls. “Say- hngh- ‘please,’” You moan, a determined, devious look on your fucked-out face. You give as good as you get, and fuck; if Ghost is going to drag this out, you’ll make him work for it.

A cold midnight breeze picks up, sweeping cool air across your heated skin and taking with it the scent of sex and sweat.

He messily kisses your cheek, sweeping his tongue along your tears. “Please? You want me to beg? Please come for me again. Pretty please.” You love the moments before Ghost comes because he always tears away the mask and the bullshit for you, like he finds something worth honesty in the depths of your body. “Need you to come again. Need it so bad.” 

Well, how can you resist when he asks so nicely?

You come softly, gently. As your eyes roll back, you gasp, and your swollen, overstimulated core shivers. The sensation ripples and shakes you, then slowly dissipates, leaving behind nothing but clean, pure pleasure, like taking a shot of vodka and sinking into the resulting mindless stupor. Your senses are too overwhelmed for anything bigger.

Ghost comes with you. He hides his long, low moan in his forearm as he grinds into your depths, filling you up with pulses of come only to fuck it back inside. The white spend that doesn’t fit inside your swollen, stuffed folds joins the droplets of squirt blanketing your inner thighs. His spine goes slack, and he almost stumbles backward, drunk on the pleasure of finally coming.

Ghost rights himself before he tips over, reluctantly removing one arm from your hips to brace it on the wall.

Before you know it, he’s placed you back on your weak, shaky legs, completely ignoring his own state of undress to tend to you.

He gets your underwear and shorts back on without letting go of you once. Ghost is rock-solid, taking on all your weight and holding you upright without faltering or asking anything of you. Once you’re covered, he even ties your shirt back together. Ghost is a regular Boy Scout with knots, and he accomplishes it better than you did in the first place. Now, he tucks himself into his boxers and zips up his jeans.

It takes a couple of seconds for you to realize that the thing he’s doing with his arms around your waist is checking your back and seeing if you’re in pain. “Stop it. I’m fine. I highly enjoyed myself,” You scold languidly, a soft, exhausted smile on your face. You are in pain, unfortunately.

Most of the time, you can just tune it out. The pain simmers under the surface as a dull ache promising future consequences. But it’s not anything Ghost needs to worry about right now.

You make this trade-off constantly. A night out at a club for a few days in bed, going to the beach and needing to use a cane the next day. What can you say? It’s worth it. You’ll end up bed bound permanently one day, whether you have fun or not.

Ghost raises an eyebrow, making it plain what he thinks about your statement. “Mm.”

Tonight turned out to be such a lovely night. You don’t want to sour it again with talk about your back.

You wrap your arms around his neck, successfully distracting him and dragging him down for a kiss at the same time. “Thank you for dancing with me. It- um… it meant a lot,” You whisper against his mouth shyly, as if he wasn’t dicking you down in public not five minutes earlier.

When you release him, you gaze at the ground, hoping to hide from Ghost’s knowing look.

“You’re never getting this hat back,” Ghost quips, taking a different tactic instead of calling you out. Then he peels a glove off to nudge your face towards him with his fingers curling under your chin. “I was happy to do it.”

-

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[eris-snow]

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲

Tags: bakugou x fem!reader, bakugou's birthday series 2023

Update: This has been edited through and apologies for the first draft being crap

Finally.

Bakugou knows this is your doing.

The party streamers.

Sato’s delicious cake.

The fucking balloons.

All of these fine preparations had your name scrawled all over them. Heck, most of the class was downstairs today and it was all thanks to you.

Bakugou watches Kirishima with lazy eyes as he and Kaminari battled each other furiously with the Nintendo switches in the living room.

Mario Kart, he scoffs. How amusing.

So many things had happened over their first year, and given Shigaraki’s recent defeat, everyone was still in the celebratory mood. Hell, Deku, the literal savior of the world, had his eyes water with big, fat droplets when Bakugou decided to accept his present, resulting in more yelling that only made the party burst with life.

The waterworks weren’t ending anytime soon, because when the blond decided to thank the nerd, said nerd had morphed into a leaking fountain with wails of joy on the side.

Even with all that power coursing through his body, Izuku still retained his bawling from when he was a brat.

The cake Sato made was probably the best part.

Everyone had insisted on inserting 16 melting candles into the cake just so they could see him blow them out.

His friends are a bunch of saps.

He’s done this before. Set the table, insert candles, sing a song, make a wish and blow them out. Finally, as he cuts the cake while polite, muddy applause and cheers whoop around him, he officially becomes a year older. Despite his reservations, doesn’t really have a choice.

His wish has always been the same: to surpass All Might and to become a number 1 hero. This year, however, he decides to squeeze in one more.

I wish to be a hero who surpasses All Might and to be the number one hero, he recites in his brain as he glares down at the candles. They burn brightly, as if reacting to his fustration. Glancing up, Bakugou shoots you a look, glare dissolving in a way it always has whenever he looks at you.

And that maybe… sometime down the road…I’d get with that ray of Sunshine sitting over there.

–

He can’t fucking find you.

Bakugou growls as he rips off the party hat Mina had forced onto him, yelling as he hunts you down to every inch of the living room.

Part of him wants him to just leave. It’s late and there’s still school tomorrow, so he really should go but…

He needs to thank you.

Of course, out of all the people here, you, the person who planned it, were absent. You’ve done so much for him and the least he could do was thank you.

Katsuki Bakugou isn’t going to give in to his slumber just because he slept late the previous night.

He can afford to fix his fucked up sleep schedule tomorrow.

Next thing he knows, he finds himself stalking out of the dorms to leave his own goddamn party you planned out for him. The blond isn’t escaping.

He just…needs a breather. Yes, that’s it. He’s so physically, mentally and emotionally drained that it makes him wonder if he’s ever going to get over you.

If he’s ever going to be able to finally look at you in the eyes and admit, I don’t like you, straight in the face. If he’s ever going to let go of this stupid crush he has on you and focus on being the number one hero. He doesn’t need you after all, so why is he out here—?

“Why are you out here?” A new voice voiced, and internally Bakugou curses.

Ah, crap.

He knows who that is.

–

Your first thought was to question why Bakugou had come out here. It was past curfew and all of your classmates were in there too. But no. Instead, he had to come to your usual meet-up spot in the dead of the night on pure instinct.

Your second thought was to notice how good he looked. In the soft glow of the lights from the dorm rooms, he seemed almost soft if it weren’t for the fact that he had a crease in between his eyebrows and a scowl on his face. Clinging onto the present you wrapped mere seconds ago, you meet his eyes and voice your question.

“Why are you out here?”

Bakugou pauses, eyeing you for a second.

“Shit’s too noisy in there,” He says, shoving his hand in his pockets. “Mind if I join you?”

You tighten your grip on your clumsily wrapped gift. “Go ahead.”

There’s silence as the mat rustles noisily when he sits beside you.

Bakugou breaks the ice first. “You planned this shit, didn’t you,” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Damn Deku handled the people and you handled the rest, right?”

Sputtering in surprise, your back goes rigid. “How did you-?”

“I have eyes, moron.” He replies sharply, effectively shutting you up. His eyes soften. “And it’s because you’re you, Sunshine.” He mutters. “I know you. Only you would do this kinda thing for me. And maybe Deku, but that’s beside the point.”

You let out a huff, thanking God that he couldn’t see how red your face was. Now that it was a little less awkward, the atmosphere a little more lighter, you take in a deep breath and bring up your gift. “Right. This is for you,”

You gingerly plop it on his lap, facing him properly to gauge his reaction. Honestly, getting Bakugou a gift was as difficult as getting Shoto to get along with his dad. After careful consideration and a poorly drawn out flowchart that took you weeks (the day of the quirk accident was a major set back for you), you’d decided on the one with the least number of cons, and the most personal one.

This decision was made last night. You know that you aren’t exactly the best at meeting deadlines, but even for you this was cutting it close.

Bakugou gives you a quizzical stare, but shreds the wrapping paper off and gazes at your gift for one entire minute.

“You got me a photo album?”

He finally says, already making a move to open it. Inside, there’s a bunch of silly photos of the idiots, you and him.

Why are you so thoughtful, you cheery cinnamon roll?

You smile at him, face melting into relief as you flush red in embarrassment, watching him sift through the photos you picked out. You were trying not to get your hopes up because whatever reaction he had given was nowhere near concrete evidence if he liked it or not-

“This is amazing, Sunshine,” He interjects your thoughts with his own, flipping to one of the selfies you took while he accidentally photobombed you.

It was the first photo you both ever took ‘together’.

Well, there’s concrete evidence that Bakugou likes it. Oh boy, your heart was going to explode. Bakugou smirks a little as he skims it and slams it shut.

“I want part 2 next year.” He grins, tucking the black album between his arms as he reaches over to you.

Your breath hitches as he touches your hair.

What the hell was he thinking-

Cherry blossoms fall all around you and Bakugou swipes one out of your hair before you can even react. His hand lingers though.

“Flowers in your hair,” He grumbles, drawing his hand away.

He takes the warmth away with him.

“What you staring at me like that for, Dumbass?” He grunts, still looking over the flower he plucked out of your hair. “Got something to say?”

You want to say so many things that it’s uncountable at this point.

You want to say your feelings to him, how he makes butterflies scatter in your stomach. How safe it feels to be with him, even if it’s just you and him against the world. How amazing it is, to stand by his side and call yourself his friend. But how can you tell someone to wait for you when they don’t even like you in the first place?

Another cherry blossom dances down, this time landing on his head.

Reaching up instinctively, you gingerly sweep your fingers through his hair and remove it. Bakugou almost blows up the mat you were sitting on.

“What the hell-”

“There was one in your hair.” You blurt out, cheeks pinking even redder. Embarrassed, you avert your eyes from his face and look at your cherry blossom.

You stare at the cherry blossom in your hand as Bakugou stares at his.

I like you. Those words are all Bakugou thinks at that moment. The atmosphere is right, the scenery is fucking cinamatic, but he doesn’t and can’t have you now.

I like you. Those are the words that are repeating over and over again in your head as you stare at the pretty sakura. You like him, you really do, and you know this isn’t a crush because its been going on for months.

Later, he reminds himself.

Later, you fumble with the excuse.

But what if you leave each other behind?

“I like you so much.” The both of you murmur in sync, the words just tumbling out of both of your lips without hesitation or doubt.

What.

Your heads shoot up as you catch each other’s eyes, wild and shocked mirrored.

What.

“DID YOU JUST-”

“I KNOW WHAT I SAID.” You yell back, sakura flying out of your hands as you scramble to your feet. “DID YOU-?”

“THAT WAS MY QUESTION IDIOT!” He fires back, heaving himself of the ground.

“But I thought-I thought you didn’t want a partner now!” Bakugou backs up, confusion rapidly transforming into irritation. His voice grows decibles louder. “The whole 'We’re training to be Heroes’ speech? What was that about then?”

“I don’t!” You yell back, causing Bakugou to freeze. “But I like you!” You emphasise, hiding your face in your hands as your voice softens. “Is that so wrong?”

Bakugou’s vexation seems to dissolve with your words.

“No.” He isn’t yelling anymore. “It isn’t.”

“Can we,” You try, sniffling slightly as tears rim your vision. “I like you, but, but…dammit, why is there no word for this?” You curse frustratedly. Bakugou chuckles fondly, expression softening. Cute.

“We don’t have to date now, Sunshine. If that’s what you mean.” Bakugou says, understanding immediately what you were trying to say. “We can just…take it at our own fucking pace, alright? We’re…” He scowls, voice growing softer. “'in like’,” Bakugou mutters.

A stupid smile reaches his lips and he can’t stop it from growing wider when you laugh too.

“Yeah, sure. We can date. But not now.” You still for a moment, smiling at the blond. “Hey Bakugou,”

He rolls his eyes, opening his arms. “Come here, you,”

You race into his waiting arms and crash into his chest, tears of joy streaming down your face. “Katsuki…!” You sob, gripping him tighter.

“I know,” He hushes you, even though his heart is screaming with the most happiness he’s felt in his life at your voice saying his name, “best fucking birthday ever.”

“Katsuki?” You bury your head deeper, seeking warmth in the crook of his neck.

“Yeah?” He mutters back.

“I’m in like with you.”

A peal of laughter escapes his lips as the both of you laugh under the moonlight, with cherry blossoms strewn all around you.

He presses his lips towards your ear.

“I know.”

[bleach-your-panties]

Okay but Rosie who do you think from the captains, visoreds and lieutenants would do casual dominance?

I almost said "what is casual dominance?" until I remembered that reblog about Draken 😂😂

KENSEI KENSEI KENSEI KENSEI KENSEI

Like that is definitely some shit he would do!

He has a dominant personality, but he also knows when not to do too much, i.e. he wouldn't try to check you in front of everyone and cause a scene.

You know not to act up too much anyway, because he's got something waiting for that ass when you get home.

He seems like the type that likes to spank, and he's got the hands big enough to leave your ass sore, aching, and hot.

"Thought I wasn't paying attention to your little display, huh? Turn over right the fuck now."

ROSE ROSE ROSE ROSE ROSE

He's gonna play it cool and remain the elegant gentleman that he is, in public. Gotta keep up that 'perfect captain' facade.👌🏼 So you'll go about your regularly scheduled programming with him doing all the things he normally does for you.

Once he gets you alone though, he's pulling out the shibari ropes and yanking you over to the bed.

He doesn't care about you acting like a brat because he knows how to fix you right up.

Once your hands are tied tight above your head, he'll pull out the Hitachi wand (who the hell bought him that? SHINJI.) and set it on the highest setting before pushing it between your open legs.

"Gonna make you sing a sweet song for me, angel."

IZURU IZURU IZURU IZURU IZURU

He's gonna completely turn his head, act like he didn't see shit, and wrap a (possessive) arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his side.

He's a switch, anyway, and he can switch in rapid succession. You'll go from getting showered in compliments, hand-written poems, and soft, gentle touches to kneeling on the floor of your bedroom with his hand on the back of your neck, keeping your face pressed against his thigh as you try to slip his cockhead into your mouth. And you'd better not dare raise your head, either - until he tells you to.

"You've been acting a little naughty today, bluebell. Do you really think that you deserve to suck my cock right now?"

He's pulling out the shibari ropes as well and he's gonna tie your legs behind your head while he eats you out.

He probably got that shit from Rose in the first place, you know he follows behind his captain dutifully.

SHINJI SHINJI SHINJI SHINJI SHINJI

He's a tease himself, so he'll gladly play long.

He'd never disrespect you in any way and if you start acting bratty he'll just grin that famous multi-tooth grin and make a joke towards himself, you, or the situation at hand.

Once you're alone, you already know you're in for it when he shirks off his captain's haori and runs his tongue over his lips.

Hours later, you're writhing on the bed while he slides his long, fat tongue between your folds, nudging your clit with the ball of his tongue bar.

No doubt he has one of those vibrating ones as well.

"Had enough? Nah, I don't think you have, darlin'."

SHUUHEI SHUUHEI SHUUHEI SHUUHEI SHUUHEI

He's a pookie poo, so of course he will continue to be chivalrous and open doors, jars, reach high things for you - hell, even help you lace your shoes or adjust your shihakusho if you get ruffled throughout the day.

Even when you get home, he'll be the same way, until he suddenly remembers that "flirtatious" wave you gave a fellow male squad member and the way said male's cheeks flushed before his eyes trailed subtly over your figure.

In the next second your thighs are pressed against your ears while he holds you open with those strong, muscled arms.

His dick is stuffed in you to the hilt, yet he's pressing the softest kisses to your cheeks, forehead, and lips while moaning your name softly.

"Don't try to make me jealous, sugar. You know I go crazy when you give attention to any other man but me."

[selineram3421]

Headcanons for Child Reader

Alastor and Child Reader

Hazbin Crew's Reactions

🌈Charlie

You're adorable

A little upset that you're in Hell at such a young age.

Gives you candy and plays with you when she's not busy

Can not say no to your doe eyes (Alastor does not call it puppy eyes)

You're almost an angel

A little shocked that you delt with three Overlords and set a building on fire

Both of you sing together occasionally

"What song do you want to sing today?"

Vaggie☔

Doesn't know what to think of you

You're a child. Alastor's adopted child no less

When you act your age, she softens a little

If you do something like murder, she'll put her guard up a little

Arson, stealing, or other little sins aren't so bad.

Panics a little when Husk just gives you beer straight out

"Are you crazy!? They're a child!"

Angel🕸

You're a cute kid

Doesn't really hang around you much

But Fat Nuggets loves to play with ya!

Cute play dates when he isn't tired from work

Does not let you go through his closet. For obvious reasons

You played cops and robbers together once

Flirts with Alastor lightly when you're around

"Let's play house! Alastor can be the Daddy~"

Husk🃏

Indifferent

You're Alastor's brat.

Not his problem, so he doesn't pay much attention to you and is rarely told to watch you

You follow him around sometimes or sit on one of the bar stools to watch him make drinks

Did a shared nap time once, passed out on the couch in the lobby. One time!

Sometimes you'll call him Uncle (secretly happy about it)

Teaches you how to cheat in cards games and you're good

No, you can't pet him

"Listen kid, I ain't your Uncle."

Niffty✂

??????

She takes care of you most of the time

Busy, busy, busy! Can't play right now!

Makes your clothes and some toys (a cooking apron for when you and Alastor make breakfast together)

You're around the same height as her

Looks for child appropriate books for you to read

Cleans your room sometimes (happy if you clean up after yourself)

Mostly plays eye spy with you when she's cleaning

"I spy with my one eye something purple!"

Extra

Fat Nuggets🐷

Oink oink

Enjoys playing with you

You give him snacks

Alastor can't try to joke about eating him anymore because you'll get sad

Cuddles and belly rubs

Likes playing chase or hide and seek

Sleepy snuggles

Sits next to you during dinner because you sneak him some food

Is a good boy when you both play dress up as fancy and proper demons

"Oink oink!"

@stolas-thebirb

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Burdened With Glorious Purpose

Dark!Loki x plus size reader

There was something else Loki took when he came to Earth, something even more precious than the Tesseract

Warnings: DARK FIC PLEASE READ WARNINGS, kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome, past non-con, punishments/violence but not explicit

WC: 854

A/N: I pumped this out after drinking probably too much vodka and watching an entire season of Hannibal. Enjoy

Minors DNI

The silence was getting to her. The darkness too but her eyes could conjure up false images to keep her company in the dark. She used to be able to stand the quiet by humming or tapping her fingers on the cold concrete floor. He caught her singing one day and punished her. “Your sweet voice is only for me, do not waste it on yourself.” She could still feel the throbbing pain of the lashes from his cane across her chubby thighs and ass.

He was brutal and cruel, loving and thoughtful. He gave and he took. He was a god and a devil whose only purpose was to be her ruler, benevolent or otherwise. She had no sense of time anymore, there was only when food would appear at the foot of her mattress with a flash of green light and when he came to ask if she was ready to behave.

She missed so many things about her old life, she knew she did, but it was getting harder to remember. What did it feel like to have the sun on her skin? To have the wind blow through her? What did her parents’ faces look like? What were their names? She wasn’t even sure she had parents in the first place.

All she knew was him. Every time she closed her eyes, it was his face she saw, not the face of her loved ones. All she could feel was his skin on hers instead of the sun. It was his voice that washed over her like wind.

The cold of the room soaked into her, making her lethargic and tired all the time. Why was she fighting it so much? What was so bad about him that she felt the need to constantly rebel? He gave her food, and shelter, and he loved her when she wasn’t being a brat. Even the sex was better than she’d ever had before. So what if she screamed and cried and told him to stop?

He loved her so much that he knew what was best for her. She came every time, didn’t she? “No one is coming for you, pet. No one loves you like I do. No one cares for you like me.” He was right, no one had come for her. No one was looking for her. He was her world.

She couldn’t believe how stupid she had been when she first woke up in this windowless, doorless room and screamed until it hurt to even breathe. Just a dumb little girl for fighting him when he first appeared and took her on the flimsy mattress on the floor. She should’ve known better than to attack him with the spoon she had sharpened against the concrete. She deserved the whipping she got that left her unable to move for days.

She loved him and he loved her. He was her king and she was his queen. Her legs wobbled as she stood, like a baby deer learning to walk, she stumbled to the wall that he would most often appear from. She laid her palm flat against the cold stone and with a voice that was broken and meek, called out.

“L-Loki. I’m ready to come out now.” Silence followed. For a moment, she was terrified. Did he leave her? Did he get sick of her constant disobedience and decide to just give up? “Please don’t leave me.” She whimpered, fat tears rolling down her plump cheeks. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.” 

She wrapped her arms around her thick waist for comfort as more time passed, staring into the darkness, willing for him to materialize before her. “Please.” She collapsed to the ground, sobs ripping through her chest. He left her. And it was all her fault. She shouldn’t have fought. Shouldn’t have talked back or insulted him. If only she had accepted his love from the start then maybe she could be safe in his embrace right now.

“Oh my love, there is no need for tears, I’m here now.” She gasped as light filled the room from behind him, illuminating his body while he crouched before her, holding out his arms, a kind smile on his face. There was no hesitation in her actions, she flung her body into his own, wetting his black dress shirt with tears as she clung to him. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to be a brat!” His large hand pet her hair gently as he cradled her soft body.

“I know dear. You didn’t know how much I love you, you were scared. But it’s ok now.” He crooned, rocking their bodies as her sobs tapered off, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. Her fingers curled into the silky material of his shirt, breathing him in once more after so long. His thin lips pressed kiss after kiss to her hair, his own raven locks brushing against her cold skin. 

“I love you.” She murmured into his pale skin, missing the wicked grin that grew across his face as his green eyes sparkled. “You always did.”

Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

All Works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff

Loki

@maevetriesart

@lokiandbuckysdoll

@lonadane

@salenorona23

@pretty-npeach

[konigsblog]

ghost x singer!f!reader (part three)

requested by anonymous

warnings: slight non-con (both were drunk) kidnapping, possessiveness, reader doesn't like ghost, ghost makes reader uncomfortable, rough sex, drug use, alcohol use, making out, gun play, dirty talk: masterlist

his threat repeated itself in your head, over and over. the ides filled you brain, unable to shake it off. the legs you used to walk up onto stage, singing your songs, could be broken?

you found yourself back in the basement. after you little stunt he made sure not to keep you out of sight, so now you were staring dead on a red flashing light, recording your moves.

brought back down to reality, you realised he was coming downstairs to you. the door clicked open, and the stairs creaked under his weight. you saw him, standing there.

simon walked up to you, unchaining your arms before holding your biceo close to him. his strength bounded you to him.

confused, you glanced at him. his honey brown eyes filled with a intent, a sexual intent that he would carry out. si smiled at you, sitting you down on the couch. finally, you glanced at the coffee table, a list of things; alcohol, two wind glasses, weed, cigarettes and a lighter and a gun.

he sat down next to you, tapping his thigh, indicating for you to sit down. from fear, you complied, obeyed to him. just for now though, before he knew it you'd be back to stubbornness.

simon bounced you up and down, your weight didn't affect him. he reached his hands to the glasses and wine. pouring both you a glass. "here, take it, love." he drank it, "why are we drinking this?" you questioned, genuine confusion spreaded on your face.

"why not, hm?" you cut the conversation short, taking a drink.

*****

an hour passed; a whole bottle of wine gone, both of you tipsy and smoking weed. giggling with eachother, you onfe scared and worried state was replaced with a calm demeanor. now that you were less likely to freak. he pusbed you onto your back, sucking at your neck.

you're lousy body did nothing to fight him off, his hands drove to your waistband, pulling them down. he fingers explored your naked pussy. bare, for him.

his lips dashed into yours, making out with you roughly and slowly. simon pulled his own pants down, pushing his already hard dick into your tight cunt. his thick and fat cock filled you up.

you moaned out, he picked the gun up, shoving it in your mouth as the muzzle touched your teeth. "ughhhh, you're such a fucking bitch.." he groaned out, slightly moaning at the tightness.

he picked up his pace, his fat hips rutted against your own and he gripped at your thighs, pushing fat in deeply. coming in your pussy. both of you reached your high, but he wanted more. he craved more.

you were laid on your stomach, ass up in the air for him. simon placed himself behind you, gripping onto your waist, sliding in. he thrusted deep and hard into you, causing whimpers and whines to come out of your mouth. his gun hit the back of your head, "do everything i say, or ill fucking shoot you." shamefully, you clenched around him. his words turned you on, his threats made you wet.

"you fucking like that? dirty fucking brat." he beated his hips into your ass, your legs shook as you released your orgasm, slowly followed by simon. who again, came in you.

you were noe bouncing on his dick, he pushed you down holding you in place. "beg for it." si demanded, his degrading words made you moan out. "si-si, please fuc-k please... mhhhm-.." you begged, gripping onto his shirt. discomfort filled your veins as he held you still.

more whimpers and begs escaped your lips, "siimon-- please.." again, nothing. tears started in your waterline, falling down your cheeks. he grabbed a cigarette, burning it against your thighs. a cry choked in your throat as he bounced you up and down, rather roughly.

quickly, you both came for the third time. exhausted was what you were. you gripped his hair, pulling him down before you sloppily made out with him.

in your drunken state, you wanted every inch of him. you had begged for him.

*****

weeks passed, sickness came with it. a pounding headache and your head over the toilet throwing your guts up. simon knee, he slightly planned this? don't be mad at him though... that'll result in a spanking later.

he kept you up with him, in the hosue, not the basement. as were leaning over the toilet, flushing it. he kneeled next to you.

"ever thought that you're maybe, pregnant?" you could hear the smirk in his voice, it was laced with control.

he handed a box to you, stepping out the room. you shook, the idea of being pregnant with your kidnappers baby? you couldn't subject a baby to see that happen.

you opened the box, peed om the stick and waited. you sat on the closed toilet lid as he leaned against the counter. silently.

both you looked down near the same second, two lines. simon smirked, knowing that now he had you trapped.

[wantbytaemin]

hi ana what are your top ten fave songs right now quickly 🎤

hi angel whew ur straight to the point aren’t u well let’s go! 🫡 you get 5 balkan tracks and 5 non balkan tracks bc ive been very balkanic recently & also i made this into a little playlist to make it easier for u to check out as ur reading my commentary (ofc there’s commentary who do you think you’re talking to)

svemir by devito (SOOOOO GOOOOOOD this has been out for a while now but it stays on my on repeat playlist)

nenormalan lik by nikolija ft devito (ANA FT LINOOOOOO no further comments. can go both ways actually which is the beauty of it all also i NEED to see him throw it back to ‘nenormalan nenormalan nenormalan lik’)

monster by jala brat & buba corelli (IM SORRY AS IF ITS MY FAULT ŠTO SAM LEVEL UP ZATO ME I NE VOLE [shakes ass until tmrw] also i can’t wait to have my dragon tattoo so i can sing along in EARNEST and no i won’t explain this bc im actually insane)

rosalia by jala brat & buba corelli (again sorry. like im to blame i was born in balkan and their tracks go so fawking hard to me)

periferija by voyage ft nucci (aka by bangchan ft changbin. Yes everything is always about something else to me and also Yes i’ve already made a post abt this LMAOOO)

did it like i did - remix by swervy (thanks to m @linoguy and the analisten playlist it’s SO good to me.)

du du du (english ver) by tan (i have NO idea who these people are but their song was on one of my playlists on spotify and it went in the likes right away i LOVE the guy who says just enough to sweeten up my morning coffee w this energy -> 🤪. Obsessed w him)

fade by knk (another thank you to the analisten playlist, specifically @ohmuqueen for this one 💞. The way this song sends me to OUTER FUCKING SPACE.)

too sweet by hozier (the bitch (cunt song releasing hozier) is back 💋 also the bass is FAT and i love the lyrics sm)

small reminders by tinashe (throwback but ive been listening to 333 the album so much lately esp this song.. ‘ain’t nobody telling me shit about shit and that’s that’ truly hits such a special spot to me these days 🤭)

PS everyone still very welcome to add to our collab playlist!! here u go if u lost the link 💖

[monstas1ut2]

<3 Imagine being a pretty princess bimbo for Reiji

| Pair(s) : Reiji Sakamaki, Bimbo!Poc! Reader

| Warnings : Fem reader, black reader, mention of sex, dom/sub, mention of hair pulling, mention of bdsm, obsession, possessiveness, trauma, Reiji being soft near the end, might be some mistakes

“I’m quite surprised you even have knowledge to sing your abc’s.. the shocker..”

Reiji Sakamaki, the man who is just keeping you around like some expensive porcelain glass. Other than being a burden to him and every thought bubble he has, you are simply a doll to force and look at. His attention is only on you when he specifically wants to, so being a brat and causing a scene only does worse.

Reiji Sakamaki, a man who will sabotage you without any doubt. That fat ass of yours accidentally knocking over one of his favorite sets? When did that even appear there? Reiji put it there. Simple. Watching the cup drop and splatter like some liquid. As you’re babbling out apologies, Reiji can’t help but stare and watch you bent over in that tiny dress. He can’t help but watch you struggle to pick up the pieces with your long nails. Although he’s having this lewd moment, he’ll end up still punishing you for something he, himself did.

Reiji Sakamaki, a man who will treat you like nothing one day, but then treat you like a pretty princess the next. One day he’s pushing every little button you have, like grabbing your braids and yanking you towards him… or choking you till you turn purple… The next day, he’s buying you everything you could ever want, making sure you’re oh so pretty for him before he beats that back in.

Reiji Sakamaki, the man that will suddenly be so protective while being around his brothers. No walking away from him for a second, you have to stick beside him. No going to the bathroom by yourself, he has to go with you. No nothing. You stay beside him, or he’s going to doubt everything about you. If his brothers touch the only thing he can control, he’ll absolutely loose it.

Reiji Sakamaki, the man that will suck you dry every.. week. Doesn’t matter to him. You’re honestly quite strong, physically.. he’ll give you that, but mentally? You’re dumber than a sack of rocks. He will completely suck you dry and leave you in that same place for hours. He won’t leave you there forever though, he eventually picks you up.

Reiji Sakamaki, the man that will act as if everything you do, doesn’t phase him. Walking with that short dress.. those tight shorts.. that tight top. From your simple understanding, Reiji doesn’t get off on that, all he loves is seeing you all tied up with rope. Though, you’re slightly wrong. Reiji, he loves seeing you in those tight pieces, he can’t help but get a terrible hard on. Please, and don’t let him send you off to get your hair done, as well as your nails. Those pretty nails will be wrapped around his cock soon enough.

Reiji Sakamaki, a man who will say sorry once a year. There’s things Reiji does that makes you feel as if you’re nothing.. which, in a sense you are. Though, Reiji honestly wouldn’t know what he’d do without you now. You’re the only bit of attention and control he can get. Considering his childhood, that’s all he wants. So, sometimes it can spiral out of control. Seeing you cry is quite normal, though it’s 99 percent of the time out of brattiness and wanting attention. Although, it’s that 1 percent that scares him. The one that showed how you really cried.. it was basically silent. It scared him to the point where he was shocked.. he gave you everything you wanted that whole day.. even a little sorry.

Reiji Sakamaki, a man who actually loves you, but he won’t dare say nor believe it.. you’re nothing but just a pet to him in his eyes. The pains in his chest says otherwise though, as well as his actions.

[ask-agere-ben-dr0wned-blog]

nobody wanted this but I'm giving you anyways this agere kokichi

I didn't get an ask for this nobody requested it and you guys aren't even interested in danganronpa but I decided to deliver this anyways

kokichi regresses to the ages of 2-6

specifically enjoys shuichi's touch

often experiences: Hissy Fits, Tantrums and bratty Behavior

hates: pig fat, getting told no, singing, seeing Gore, Adventures, getting up from his bed or a comfortable place, specific Foods

enjoys: the color purple black and white ,chokers ,laying down ,grapes ,grape juice ,colorful items, stuff that jingles and arts and crafts

enjoys hanging out with Angie while he's in little space because they do a bunch of stuff that include art

he's proud of the nicknames and titles that are: little troublemaker, little brat, little liar, sweet grape ,sweetheart, shorty,cuddly buddy ,gentle guy, little man, little dude, little guy

his favorite paci is purple with black and white checkers on it his favorite plushie is every merch he could get of shuichi that is plush-like

shuichi is his main caregiver/ cg but he himself also regress

he's a picky eater and every once in a while or every minute his favorite food changes

[talesofsonicasura]

Song of Hearts

Games are made with the purpose of entertaining all. Sometimes a peculiar title can lead to unexpected developments if done right.

I decided to take a different dive into fandoms this time. A creepy flavored one. Yep. Reader insert with a Creepypasta. Completely platonic one as the story in question involves Ben Drowned.

For those who don't know, it was originally a Creepypasta about a N64 copy of Majora's Mask being haunted by a 12 year kid named Ben who drowned under suspicious circumstances. His form being the Link Statue when you play the Elegy of Emptiness. This can be read gender neutral or preferred gender. Enjoy!

Games, games, games. A pastime enjoyed and even cherished for many across the world. Taking the form of boards, cards, words, video to even joke games. All have brought enjoyment and equal amounts hilarity for every player. It's a rarity to find stores that don't sell a game of some kind, not even grocery stores were immune.

Games are always meant to bring joy...if respected properly. Just like school tests, delvers of code often plague this particular activity like rats to an open fridge. And videogames were their favorite playground.

Earnest archivist who wish to preserve old game code inside emulators or data storages. Data miners that look for hidden content and share their finds with all. Then the infamous hackers who can make a player's experience hell or rarely heaven.

Someone will always delve deep into a game unfairly. Yet, what would happen if one videogame wasn't like the others? An item that happily brings misfortune to those who abuse the rules. Data with a mean spirit of its own.

It was a surprisingly warm winter day. The birds were singing, flowers slowly gaining life and... "DAMN IT!" For you to lose your mind at another failure. It had only been two years since the Grand Archive became an established website for gamers all across the world.

A place to play all sorts of games specifically those from old consoles with some such examples being N64 and even the Amiga! Your greatest project as an archivist and videogame lover to this day. Despite the current problem aiming a big fat middle finger with cruelty that could match Satan.

After uploading the Lemmings trilogy to the Grand Archive, you decided the next game to upload would be the original Legend of Zelda Majora's Mask for the N64. Nintendo franchises were a bit infamous to get ahold of especially games as old as this one. These precious cartridges were either stuck in the hands of scalpers that wanted insane prices or sellers who troll people once they get the cash.

Kirby and the Crystal Shards had been a nightmare to get for your website as the buyer's psycho neighbor was an insane Entitled Parent Karen fusion. All the slurs fired and fucking knife waved all willy nilly from her made quite a scary spectacle. Especially since it was a game not meant for a two year old baby!

Still a sweet victory for you in the end as Kirby became apart of the archive and the psycho got arrested. Anyway, adding any games from popular franchises is usually uncommon due to rarity or difficulty. You figured since Ocarina of Time had been added, so should the sequel. Thus the dilemma at hand.

Every copy of Majora's Mask you stumbled upon so far were either overpriced, bad condition (got a console to check efficiency), or a scam. This was the 5th bust so far. Any donations set up were for actual emergencies as you actually had a well paying job in the form of freelance programming.

All the games bought for the site was from hard earned cash. Taking a deep breath, you decided to make some tea for your nerves. Anger wasn't going to accomplish anything. Now you lived alone in a nice small apartment with pretty decent neighbors.

Well, except for Mindy and her entitled brat Velma who live three doors down. Fuck those two spectacularly. The apartment complex didn't come with a postal service so you had to visit the post office for mail.

The sound of knocking suddenly filled the silence. It was the soft yet the sound felt so...eerie. Almost as if death was standing outside the door with scythe ready at hand. You put down your cup of tea and quietly stalked over.

Peering through the small peephole, it didn't seem like anyone was there. This didn't stop you from grabbing the pocket knife hidden in the drawer by the door. Better safe than sorry, even if it was possibly a ding dong ditch. With a firm hand, you opened to the door to nothing.

At least not until looking down towards the floor. Right there was a small package set neatly before the door. Small enough to be easily missed if not for the box's brilliant green wrapping paper topped by a gold ribbon. You couldn't help but peer your head at the halls around you.

There wasn't anybody in sight or any sign of a door opening. Almost if a ghost came by and left this 'gift'. You took the package inside keeping your knife close just in case. After a moment of scrutinization, it was deemed safe enough to open.

There were many things you expected to be inside the package. A snake, bug or something foul for a surprise gift. To see what had to be a copy of the N64's Legend of Zelda Majora's Mask wasn't it. You couldn't believe your eyes nor feel even more uncomfortable.

No one should've known where you lived much less the item you were searching! It felt too convenient and that's a huge red flag on it's own. "Okay. Emergency Nintendo 64 now." When it comes to scanning videogame cartridges or disks, spare consoles tend to be vital.

This mainly stemmed from bugged ports or illegal hacks that could potentially destroy a system. In this case, you gotten two spares per an old console as you knew a good bloke who could fix them for a great deal. The cartridge was carefully inserted into the console akin to defusing an active bomb. You didn't trust it one damn bit.

After a few minutes of loading, the title screen to Nintendo's most popular rush job appeared on your old vintage TV. Despite that, the graphics so far look really nice for an old game but functionality was more important. Going past the title screen you were half surprised to see a file was already made.

The file named Ben had everything available up to the current point being Stone Tower on the Third Day specifically an hour before the moon crashes. An impressive feat honestly as you know Ikana Canyon was infamous around the Zelda community for being a common drop-off. Both on creepiness and difficulty.

"Whoever you are Ben, you must be one hell of a gamer. I don't know how this cartridge even got here but I hope you at least manage to beat the game once." There wasn't any reason to delete the file as old games like this had multiple save files. Plus messing with Ben's file just felt wrong for your tastes.

Making a new game under the name Link, it was time to see how this cartridge played. You weren't going add it onto the Grand Archive though. The circumstances behind the appearance are too suspicious and you weren't ruining your greatest project. It'll be a personal copy for comparing purposes or just playing.

You wouldn't lie but that mysterious Majora's Mask game runs very good despite it's age. Been playing it for about two weeks and everything was almost lifelike compared to any other copy. The characters had more personality in models even when not talking. It responded perfectly to your controller inputs better than any modern game. Overall, everything felt perfect. Although you weren't going to upload on the archive for one normal reason and two odd reasons.

Already found an extra copy of Majora's Mask to upload during those two weeks. The first oddity is the characters would often call you Ben instead of your character's name Link. Not really an issue since it was a harmless glitch.

The second oddity is where the creepiness really sets in. In Majora's Mask, there's an important song you learn to enter the Stone Tower called the Elegy of Emptiness. Depending on Link's form, it would produce a statue which can be placed on switches. Why point this out? You were quietly being stalked by one of those statues.

The statue in question was the very creepy Link one. Off-putting smile and all. It would always be hidden somewhere in the background as you played. Only players with eagle eyes could find kind of spots too. You couldn't forget that you hadn't even unlocked the song yet?

At this point, either someone programmed one hell of an AI or the game is legitimately haunted. You were leaning towards the latter but the possible ghost hadn't been hostile really. All they been doing was watching your progress and messed with the names a bit. Harmless mischief really.

If you really own a haunted cartridge, then might as well be friendly to the ghost. More proof later popped up when bidding the spirit goodbye before turning off the console. You nearly jump as the Ben save file now read 'Hello. :)' when entering the game.

Apparently the specter was quite the character. Ever since you discovered the game was haunted, you sorta made friends with Ben. It seemed like he was stuck in the Link statue as it was the only character that pops up where he shouldn't be.

Considering this was Zelda of all games, Link being followed by a statue of himself didn't feel that weird. Ben interacted with you in three different ways within the game. He would follow the player's character similar to how a party moves in RPGs. Well, with a bunch of teleporting when offscreen as Epona often left him in the dust.

Ben could be helpful as he would either appear on switches you need to press or at places where you need to go for particular quests. And he can be a huge troll. Often popping up in your face without warning or make you die by blocking your jumps over bottomless pits.

Fuck the time he decided to replace every NPC in Clocktown with Gibdos. "Ben, you ass!" Skull Kid's laughter rain about as you had Link chase after the fleeing statue. Overall, it felt like living with a mischievous little brother more than anything.

Although there was one place he always avoided in the game. The laundry pool. A small area in Clock Town with little importance other than getting a few masks from the townsfolk. You never saw him pop up there as he always waited outside for Link.

It didn't take long to put the pieces together. Ben had drowned but something was seriously off. How did he get into the game if he drowned??? Only way it could happen was... You couldn't help but go cold at the possiblity of murder as the chance of it being ritualistic was high.

There are sickos in the world who had their noses deep into the occult. Always wondering what they can do. Yet, Ben could've died with the game on him and went inside afterwards. Poltergeists automatically attach themselves to their prize possessions upon death. In the end, it was his story to tell and you'll respect that.

Today was gonna be a shitty day. Your hot water hadn't been working for a few days and the apartment's handyman is currently sick. The package which had a copy of Megaman X got stolen. And some asshole nearly uploaded a virus onto your Grand Archive cause you didn't support NFTs.

Ben luckily eased up on his pranks knowing how bad the week has been. You currently had a migraine and just ran out of headache medicine too. It was obvious to head to the store leaving Ben to watch his cartoons on the laptop so he wouldn't get bored.

The Link Statue just needed the title screen on in order to appear. A habit that honestly punched your electric bill but you didn't really care. Paying extra per month was worth Ben having some semblance of a routine outside the game.

That moment of peace immediately shattered as you had open the door only to meet your bitch neighbor and spoiled ass brat. "What the hell??!" This wasn't going to end well. You heard rumors about Mindy storming into people's apartments for one reason: inspection.

She usually did this for a multitude of stupid reasons, half involving a impromptu babysitter for her daughter Velma. You always leave the doors locked and kept check on her times as the bitch was buddy buddy with the landlord. Guess Mindy decided to go early just for this.

"I honestly thought you were dead but guess I was wrong. Oh well. Anyway I need someone to watch over Velma as I have to do my nails at the saloon." The sickly sweet smile did nothing to shroud the foulness that radiated off her.

"No. Find someone else to babysit!" Your retort was cut short as the callous woman shoved you aside with her hellspawn close behind. Mindy immediately began to scrutinize every object under her gaze with manners of a toddler.

"This place looks so plain yet there's all these game stuff! Aren't you too old to play videogames? Velma would love some new playthings. How much?" You were too tired to deal with her bullshit especially the gold digging criticism!

"Get out of my apartment before I call the cops! My head already hurts and your pterodactyl screeches make it worse! Go bark up someone else's house, you bitch!" This, of course, leads to a shouting match as Mindy didn't take kindly to being challenged.

No one noticed a certain brat walking away into a particular spare room in search of entertainment. Ben immediately vanished from the screen before Velma had a chance to spot him. He heard about the infamous little girl that drove everyone up the wall and her equally bad mother.

While Mindy was a critic, Velma is pure unadulterated harassment. Snatching other kids' toys, stealing people's food, made offhanded rude comments and crying or hitting those who don't let her get away with it. Something that only worsen when her mother endorses such horrible behavior.

"I haven't seen this game before. The horsey looks so cute though." Ben secretly sneered inside the game code as grubby little fingers took ahold of your controller. He would've just made the game extra hard for Velma with the tiny hope that she didn't screw up any files.

Fixing up yours from her interference is stupidly eas- Ben went still as the feeling of the controller circled around his file. She. wouldn't. dare. "Why are there two save files with different names? Oh well, I'll just get rid of this!" And that snobby high pitched voice was the only warning he had to stow the data away as she clicked Delete.

You really didn't know what had happened as the confrontation with Mindy went on. It took one second to realize that a certain hellspawn was missing did the panic set in. And Velma's high pitched shriek only cement that absence to her mother as well.

The little girl crashed into her mother's legs with the force of a bullet, heavily weeping in quiet terror. Quiet mumbles of 'creepy statue' and 'I'm next' had you go straight towards the N64. The mother leaving in rage was ignored for the ghost stuck inside the console.

Poltergeists are only harmless if their prized possessions were left alone. You knew Velma didn't respect that as the File Screen no longer held the familiar Ben file. In it's place was a folder that only read 'Your Turn'. The rest of day been silent afterwards.

Mindy and Velma had moved out of the apartment complex the next day in a massive hurry. Guess the scare the spoiled girl gotten was more than she could take. You, however, been looking over Ben for two weeks.

Ever since his save file got deleted, the ghost had basically shut down. It came back after restarting the console but Ben still wouldn't interact. You never saw his statue pop up unless you played the Elegy of Emptiness. The Link Statue didn't move or speak despite this.

All you could really do is keep Ben company and talk to him so the spirit knows he wasn't alone. It took around the end of the month before a certain Link Statue popped up on the title screen one night. That was the point where Ben told you how he ended up in the game by accessing his file.

"I was a lonely kid and had no friends. The only thing that kept me happy was my love for Legend of Zelda. One day, I met people who shared my likes. Who I thought would be my new friends became my executioners."

A cult called the Moon Children had lure Ben into their ranks with false promises. They sacrificed him for a ritual to see what they can do using the human soul. All the events were played out through the game's characters and assets. You never felt so much rage and disgust before in your entire life as Link was drowned by the Father NPC.

A lonely child who only wish for friends was taken advantage of with the very thing he wanted. "You didn't deserve that, Ben. No one should have their own loneliness be twisted by a fucking bastard cult! If I could, I would've been your friend way back then."

Those words had that Link Statue fade away into the image of a 12 year old brunette boy. A weak smile on his lips, terribly pale wet skin stained by tears and glassy tear stricken eyes look back at you. Only comfort that could be done is place a hand on the TV screen. Ben put up his palm to match yours as everything fell quiet.

Things had begun to return to normal after that particular night. Ben opened up again and was back to his mischievous self. You began working on a special project with your spare computer. A unique model program made specifically for Ben, the first being a Link model just for him.

It was originally made for making 3D versions of 8 bit games specifically the first two Legend of Zeldas. Something adjusted once you fully bonded with your ghostly brother. Whether the laptop would be connected to the internet stem on whether you can keep Ben from accidentally going into the Dark Web.

Weren't even touching what he will do if he found the Moon Children's operation. It was better that the two of you formulated an effective game plan first. Mainly cause who knows if they roped in other unaware children or there are more cartridges like Ben somewhere hidden across the world.

It was better to plan for now than go all gung-ho. Although things have been a bit...eerie as of late. Something that started when a new tenant just move into Mindy's old apartment. Pale, creepy, kind of guy whose eyes lingered on you for too long to be seen as a mere glance.

He only given out the name 'Robert Lynch' before going absolute recluse. No one really see him leave his apartment other than getting his mail and the bare necessities. Yet, these excursions never went through without the creep eyeing you or your apartment.

Whoever this Robert is, it was pretty clear that he's bad news. Something further cemented from how antsy Ben became as of late. His statue would often glitch or fade uncontrollably before settling back like nothing happened. You didn't know much on spirits as any information at all was little or mere theory bait.

Then there were these...flashes. Places or objects that disappear and come at random intervals. One second you are in the elevator only to being standing before an ominously familiar tree with a single blink. Photos marred by obscure faces and grinning masks.

You went to sleep once only to later dreamt about a cold watery abyss as shadows swam around you akin to curious sharks. Overall, something freaky was going on and there was the vague feeling it only just started. Then the computer housing the new program meant for Ben mysteriously crashed.

One second it has been working and then suddenly went kaput! You had taken it to your tech savvy friend for help yet the reason for the crash was strange. "The hard drive somehow manifested over an exabyte worth of data! A laptop like this would've explode in seconds than turn off! Even more stranger is that everything is gone, not a single bit of data left."

You couldn't help but be on edge throughout the walk back home. How can a hard drive manifest over that much data and lose everything? Your concern only grew further once you made back to your apartment. Why? The door that once been shut closed was slightly open.

Someone was in your apartment and were still there. Honestly didn't know what to do as Ben is inside. You were about to call the police when a hand dragged you inside and shut the door. The invader was Robert but that wasn't the scary thing.

When he shoved you onto the floor, right there was the broken pieces of the Majora's Mask cartridge where Ben laid inside. A familiar snarling moon peeked from Robert's palm as his sleeve lifted up from that harsh push. He was a fucking Moon Children cultist.

"That whiny little bitch made it so much easier to find Father's little stolen project. Already bad enough that damn traitor decided to give the thing some pity by dropping it off to some nerdy bitch. And I get sent to clean up the mess!"

You didn't hesitate to slam your laptop against the bastard's leg, fury flaring through your veins. This fucker had shattered Ben. He viewed the soul of a poor trapped child as a meaningless endeavor like his fellow cult members. You struck the man against his stomach and arms, uncaring of the device shattering to pieces.

Robert retaliated by yanking the broken device away so he could throw a haymaker to the face. You bit down on his arm before he could pull back and harshly yanked the bastard's hair. The skirmish grew more gruelling as plates, photos, and other objects got caught in the crossfire.

Robert was stabbed in his side with glass shards from broken picture frames. Your leg flare red as a broken chair leg came down by the man's hand. Only fair the cultist got his brains bashed in with a frying pan. Any advantage you had didn't last long once you crashed into your spare N64.

He took the power cords with an intent obvious to many: choking. You quickly try to intercept the now offensive items aimed at your neck. Despite the kicks and shoves, Robert power through as plastic coating touch skin. You try to yank the cords away that threaten to crush your airways.

"Fucking bitch! I'll make sure no one will recognize your damn body once I'm done!" The bastard's words began to fade with every lack of breath. A single thought rung out as you struggled to fight back. 'I'm sorry, Ben.'

In a flash of pale peach and green, power cords suddenly split into pieces. You fell to the ground in a sputtering heap as your chest heaved harshly trying to get back air. Robert's painful cry was cut short for loud harsh gargles and a monstrous roar.

The smell of harsh iron filled the air like mist. Only when your breathing was under control did the feeling of sharp, wet claws carefully held your back. Slowly turned around to see the familiar yet now macabre figure of Ben's Link Statue slouched over in an attempt to look smaller.

His limbs elongated to twice their length, body stretched into a lanky almost dangerously thin teenage form, fingers now gnarly bony claws, the statue's face completely obscured by shadows even though the wet ragged hair wasn't that long and the only features that could be seen is an inhumanly large grimace full of teeth alongside sad glassy looking eyes.

"B...ben? You're okay." The ghost didn't answer, only pulling you close to his chest. Gentle loving hug and distorted croaking of 'You're safe now' made everything feel safe. You quietly sob in Ben's chest as today's events wash over like a cold wave.

"Over the span of three months, the recently uncovered Moon Children's cult has finally come to an end. An anonymous tip had shed light on this gamer targeting organization as a list of experiments were sent to local police. During the same time, more active cultists were found dead.

Bodies hung by the power cords for game and bearing claw marks from an unknown animal.-" The TV groan on as you uploaded Mario Kart onto the Grand Archive within the confines of your newly bought house. Boxes still laid unpacked and those half open kept by the wall to avoid being tripped over.

You were so deep into the upload that you nearly miss the Lays bag placed near your laptop. The offerer being no other than Ben, his form now that of a messy brown haired and green eyed Link. You cheekily ruffled his hair before putting the music back on. A remixed version of the Song of Healing began to play as the little break ended and it was back to unpacking.

And that's it! This has been a wild yet difficult thing to write. You won't believe how many interruptions and writer's block got in the way. For anyone confused, the bond formed between Reader and Ben had become a pact.

As this grew, both of them were affected in different ways. Reader began experiencing Ben's world-view while the poltergeist began manifesting in the physical world. That special project was the final ingredient to fully seal the pact.

Ben's monster form is based on the Friday Night Funkin Mic of Time mod, specifically for the song Sorrow. You can find it at the bottom! I'll be drawing his new human form soon but he didn't want Reader's hard work to go to waste essentially.

Yes, Mindy and Velma are a huge jab at Mindy Kaling's Velma show, name wise alongside shitty personality only. No one tries to ruin Scooby-Doo without me aiming at them in the form of references.

That's it for now! Until next time folks, I'll see you later!

[creeperchild]

Some Funtime Freddy headcanons my dudes:

-He is 5"7 tall. He basically looks like a fat angry Hamster instead of a polar bear.

-He has just 4 faceplates of 1 instead of 6 by 2.

-Has a extra right Hand that is attachable instead of Bon-Bon

-He is a complete glutton, any type of sweet will get him going.

-Sometimes super hyper but tired at the same time. Coffee makes him more tired.

-If somebody bothered him he will say it in an Instance. He swears alot, thats why he is not Renten often. He called a kid "shithead" for being a complete ass to the bday boy.

-He loves birthday but not his own.

-Lover of memes and Video games. Bullet hell, rage games, horror and creative games are his thing.

-If somebody asks if he abuses Bon-Bon, he gets pissed and throws the person out. He loves his little bunny buddy.

-Is smart and dumb at the same time. He can ramble in detail about the french Revolution while pulling on a door that CLEARLY has a sign that says: push.

-Quiet anxious.

-Gets pissed easily.

-Can talk fluent in english and german. He was build in germany and grew up in. america.

-Screams many times a day. For no reason

-If he thinks a noise is funny he will use his voice recenition to copy it. So expect monkey screams in the middle of the night.

-Not the social butterfly around adults. Even tho he is 24.

-Cant sing but is a pretty decent comedian.

-He do also arts and crafts. Gets covered on glue usually.

-Bon-Bon and him are besties.  Bon-Bon is as nuts as him but not as Vokal about it.

-Yes, he murdered Millie. Brags even about it and says it's a christmas Story because it happend on christmas.

-Wants attention but wanna be left alone at the same time.

-Hates water but loves snow.

-Is a hypocrit. Saying something you should or shouldn't do and then he is doing the opposite 5 minutes later.

-He is super petty. If he is renten out and the family aren't as nice as they should be and they have a spoiled brat, he puts a piece of underwear, that he stole from the last family  he was rented from and place it somewhere. But also takes another piece of underwear from them for next family. He does it for years. Rumors has it that the rental are cursed and cause divorces. Not the children murders tho.

-He could replace an entered kitchen just by his stomache. A heater and freezer, knifes etc. are in his inside. He has also bioacid in a specific container in the back.

-There is no off Button. If he is "shutt down" he just pretends.

-He loves to do random shit just to confuse people. He thinks it's amusing.

-He is more a cat person. Not by choice tho. Dogs just see him as a oversized chewing toy.

Relationship wise he:

-is neutral

He is cheery and excited to greet you. The neutral phase will not stay long tho. He can tell within minutes if you are friend or foe.

Usually there is no threat unless you are in his way or his target.

-dislikes you

Oh boy. You will feel the tension and the poisonous stares from him. He stays super quiet and keep an eye on you.

He can be quiet mean spirited when he thinks about to prank you. Dogpoop in a bag is friendly to that. Depends how much he doesn't like you will decide if you wake up on a schoolday and all your clothes missing or both of your legs.

-Hates you

You don't even have time to dig your own grave. You are his next victim and he will makes sure your last breaths will be in his presence. The best option to survive public places. There is ALWAYS a chance he will show up when you are alone. Out of nowhere. If you have luck he will smash your skull in. But it could also be his personal Vendetta against you and will unleash his sadistic torture methods upon you.

-likes you

You actually catched him on his good side. He gets quiet happy when he noticed your presence. He will remember your bday and will be the first one to congratulate you. Children are always on this level. No matter what.

- really likes you

Oh vip friendship over here. He will become more intense with his goofy and carelessly side. He can babble for hour with you and will listen what problems you having. He usually can solve those issues of yours because of personal experience. He was usually the cause of the problem but yeah. He even allowes you to get close to Bon-Bon and Bonnet. Random things he found will be given to you as a "present". It's stuff he stole from the homes he is renten for. How thoughtful!

-loves you!

Christ! The killer bear has a crush on you and he NEEDS to show it to you. He will confessed as soon as possible to you and hopes for the best answer. If you would agree with going out with him he couldn't get happier! He will sqeak and speak and bounce around. Over the next weeks he will get used to be in a realationship starts flirting with you. Every opportunity he will use his charm to fluster you. He is addicted to make you blush. Calling you cute names instead of your actual name. The gifts will be also more from the romantik type. He would buy you gift like roses or plushies. If he can't buy it, he steals money to buy it. If he cant steal money, he kidnaps a child and threatend the parents with a letter that he gonna murder the child if they dont pay ( cheap roses price such as 5 bucks) he thinks it's a win win scenario. After a few months he will get into the personal stuff. How many murder he did etc. Mortephying isn't it? He trust you now completly and do whatever makes you happier. He also says random "I love you"

[langdhon]

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE SMELL LIKE? He likes to wear perfume and switches between masc and fem fragrances because he's chaotic and goes with what he feels like. It'll usually have an opium note to it, none of those super strong aftershave scents that sting in the nose. Always with a pinch of sweetness to it, less fruity and more vanilla direction. For those supernatural beings who can smell 'evil', he'll reek of decay and burnt flesh. Mmm~

WHAT DO YOUR MUSE’S HANDS FEEL LIKE? They are unnaturally warm, always, and soft. Given that he tends to leave the dirty work to others, there's no callousness to his skin. He also regularly uses hand creams because he's almost obsessed with smelling good ldkfjg

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY EAT IN A DAY?   A lot. His metabolism is a fast bitch, especially since he's such a powerhouse and still in a human body that needs energy. He'll go for something sweet in the morning, but still healthy because, I repeat, energy. Tendency for oatmeal with a variety of fruits, maybe a small spoon of honey mixed in. To that, coffee, of course. Throughout the day he'll go with savoury dishes, though he has no fixed meal times like lunch and supper. He eats when he wants to. He loves pasta. And likes meat, yet often eats fish instead since it has the better fats. Junkfood is a rarity. Michael keeps a balance between healthy nutrition that doesn't get him hungry in 2 hours again, with treats for his sweet tooth. And sometimes you just gotta rip a heart out of someone's chest and take a raw bitey bite too <3 Bonding time with dad included :)

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE A GOOD SINGING VOICE? Nope, this would give him too much power.

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE ANY BAD HABITS OR NERVOUS TICKS? This dude has some lol Especially lying sans shame when it suits him. But his worst habit has to be invading other people's personal spaces, especially when they don't want it. I'm not talking sexual proximity in that regard, mind you, guy has standards! Tied to this habit; the contrast that he'll get mad if someone else invades his personal space when he doesn't want them anywhere near. Brat who generally seems to lack a concept for other people's boundaries— on purpose. As for nervous ticks; he might drum his fingers against a glass/mug/table when within reach but usually tries to restrain himself in that regard. Self-control is the only control he's adamant on maintaining, so nobody around him will get the impression that he doesn't know what he's doing. He may or may not tend to stammer a little when nervous, though.

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY LOOK LIKE / WEAR?  His hair is always down in public, a wee bit straightened too because it'd be a bit more wavy otherwise. When he's at home and has one of his lazy days + bad hair day, he might tie them into a bun because it's just handy. Attire is always black with a splash of red in the accesoires, elegant when in public with suits and long coats. Sometimes leather, others velvet. At home he might be found shirtless rather often, or resorts to throwing a hoodie over. Anything comfy that doesn't scream 'GET ONE WRINKLE IN AND YOU LOOK LIKE CRAP'. He loves to wear a cute little silk scarf when he goes out, either red or black, depending on what he's in the mood for. Sometimes he'll wear black nail polish just for funsies and his signature look will always be that little red eyeshadow. Which, ofc, he doesn't wear when he's staying at home. He wears one ring on the left hand's ring finger and two rings on the other hand (middle finger and pinky).

IS YOUR MUSE AFFECTIONATE? HOW SO?   Very much! If he likes you, that is. While he touches everyone for different reasons, unless they're particularly unkempt and stink miles against the wind, he'll show his affection with acts of service. Michael is selfish in nature, so when he does something for someone else out of his very own motivation... then they have to be special. His affection also includes actual effort at respect for boundaries and he'll even get a little goofy around you because he feels comfy enough. Comfy enough to show more of the child in him that never got to really be a child (namely because he skipped most of those early years in one night). He'll also protect and defend you. Another act of affection is that he won't drag you into his business until it gets inevitable, because it'd paint a target onto your back.

WHAT POSITION DOES YOUR MUSE SLEEP IN?  Usually on his side, either right or left, doesn't matter.

COULD YOU HEAR YOUR MUSE IN THE HALLWAY FROM ANOTHER ROOM?  Depends. If he's pissed, he'll want everyone and their mom to know that he is ***upsetti spaghetti***, so he might be breaking something in a fit of rage. That's become rare since he's matured though. Usually, you won't hear him. And he likes to take advantage of that :)

TAGGED: @legacysouls ♥

TAGGING: @butscrewmefirst @bunnyblooded @colorsdevoid @eyeless-smiles @hybrid-royalty @little-elena @monstriiss @melpcmene @pagetorn @ravenskeeper @townwxtch @viiolencia and you!

[sallysgrancanwrite]

Chapter Fifty-One

⚠️Warnings; domestic violence.

Masterlist

x

The following day they put all the baby furniture together for Chloe and was sure to leave before Michael came home. Abound hour after they left he came home demanding supper. Chloe went into the kitchen and saw that Martha had made some chicken and dumplings. All she did was warm them back up for her and Michael. When he came to dinner he was already tipsy. That was aggravating. He drank too much and too often now. While they ate Emma woke up. Chloe got up to go get her.

“Sit down,” Michael said. “Let her cry, we’re having supper. She can wait.”

“Michael, I will not make her wait and cry!” Chloe yelled.

Michael threw his plate and got up and walked over to Chloe. He grabbed her by the throat and pinned her against the wall. “You do as I say. Understood? That brat will not disrupt our lives.” He let her fall to the ground.

By now Emma was screaming hysterically. Chloe was trying to catch her breath.

“Go to your precious baby. We wouldn’t want her to cry now would we.”

Chloe got up, got a bottle out of the fridge and warmed it up a bit. She went upstairs and picked Emma up and calmed her down by singing a lullaby to her and talking softly. She then gave her her bottle as she rocked her. She loved these quiet moments with her. They were the happiest of her life right now.

“Get done with the kid and come to bed!” yelled Michael from the bedroom.

Chloe finished feeding Emma, who had fallen back to sleep, kissed her forehead and put her back in the crib.

She went to the bathroom and got ready for bed. When she got to the bedroom Michael was staring at her.

“How long before your body gets back to normal? You have too much fat on you.”

“It’s only been a few days! Give me time.” Chloe shouted.

She got into bed and rolled away from him. Jackass she thought as a tear rolled down her cheek. She tried to be tough but in reality his insults hurt her.

She went to town the next day to do some grocery shopping and ran into Alan.

“Hi Chloe! Congratulations on the baby girl. She sure is cute.” He said hugging her.

“Thanks Alan. Thanks. I have totally fallen in love.” Chloe said looking down at Emma.

“You look great for just having had a baby!” He said.

“I have a lot to lose. Michael thinks I’m too fat so more salad.” She chuckled nervously.,

Alan chuckled but didn’t really think it was funny.

“Ah, don’t listen to that. You’re fine, “ he said.

“Thank you. I should be going. I'll talk to you later.” Chloe said

“Okay, tell Michael hi.” He said

Chloe was flattered by the compliment but it felt wrong because she was married. And if Michael was to find out there would be harsh consequences.