#cw: ghosts
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body & soul
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Your dead and mine
Possibly gonna be a short series if i ever get cured from my current aemond brainrot
Cw: ghosts, refrenced suicide and child abandonment
Gif by: @nofckingfighting
Taglist:@runnning-outof-time @scorpiussage @zablife @cillmequick @thegreatdragonfruta @peakyblindas @johnathancanines @globetrotter28
“I wouldn’t trust her.” His mother whispers from over his shoulder.
His mother had been dead for eleven years and yet here she was walking beside him.
“The barmaid will only bring misery and death to you.” She advised. “Her father looks disappointed in her, didn’t you see?”
He can see the dead, but he can only speak to a handful of them.
He can speak to those he killed, those who were once close with him and sometimes a lost soul he encounters on the road.
Mother had that ability, her mother too, but that moment he died and came back in those tunnels they held his hands and passed their gift to him.
Polly could see the dead too, but that ability had closed off when they took Sally Anna and little Michael. Only she knows he has the Gift too.
Well, only her and the Smith girl down the street.
The foreign Miss Smith who was tormented by visions of the future. Some were good, some were bad and some had her staring at the ghost of his mother whenever she saw him.
And here she was walking in the rain looking like she isn’t struggling with her umbrella and her parcels.
“You should talk to her, don’t know why you’re so afraid of approaching the poor girl.”
Because I will end up like you or my father.
One of us dead, the other leaving the children saying they’re going out for a drink.
But she was beautiful with dark eyes that know your deepest secrets and a smile that told you she didn’t hold them against you.
“Would you like ride home, Miss. Smith?” his mother asks sweetly and the young witch turned around in surprise.
That had never happened before.
Part 2
#tommy shelby x oc#eva smith shelby#thomas shelby fanfic#thomas shelby x oc#peaky blinders fanfiction#cw: ghosts#cw: witchcraft
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still life
Rated T | 50 words | for the @hp-fearfest prompt, “haunt” | cw: ghosts
The ghost comes three days after the war. Harry’s in bed when the flashbulb goes off. The next day: the kitchen. The garden. He gets used to it, those small hands, that young face even as Harry grows older.
Finally he asks. “Why pictures?”
“So they won’t forget,” Colin says.
#31daysoffearfest#hpfearfest2022#drarry#My writing#hpdm#Harry Potter x Draco Malfoy#cw: ghosts#cavfearfest
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Final round, GO!
#Trivia Murder Party#Red Herring#Alpha#Screamer#Sheriff#Believer#Jester#Lover#Nerd#Audience#Final Round#CW: Ghosts#ghosts#R U N#2:30 pm
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Anxiety Garden #004
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Character Reflection (Cooler Name TBD)
Bit of Context:
Jhara and the party (Edward the half elf swashbuckler, Jericho the giff fighter, and Piper the human witch) were tasked by the captain to steal a piece of an old coin from a sugar estate. Everything was going well until a ghostly crew showed up, slaughtering the residents of the estate...
Session 5:
Jhara has spent over 100 years of her life sailing the seas, but nothing prepared her for what they saw when they emerged from the cellar. She had done battle with all number of sea beasts, and even monstrosities that had leaked into this plane from other realms, but the dead rising and slaughtering innocent? That was something she had only heard in stories meant to scare children. She'd heard tales of the famed Dusk Seekers fighting the undead, though she had assumed they were just exaggerations. But now, she saw them with her own eyes, and they were more terrifying than she imagined.
Her instincts and adrenaline took over in the fight and all the way through the jungle. Shaken from what they saw at the estate, her only focus was survival and getting her crew mates out, but her bolts fired wide and her new magic was unpredictable. Watching Piper go down and reviving her twice felt all too familiar. Jhara was feeling helpless and scattered, but by some miracle, they made it back to the well. Jhara hoped the worst of it was over as she tied the familiar knots around everyone’s waists, and it was: until Piper slipped, unintentionally dragging them both under the raging current.
A new familiar feeling took over: cold roiling water, so dark she couldn’t tell which way was up, not knowing the state of her crew mates, the chaos and uncertainty. She managed to swallow the fear, relying on years of training and instincts on the sea, but before she could attempt to get her bearings, Jericho pulled her from the water and air filled her lungs.
As they emerged from the cave and into the open air, the rain still pouring outside, Jhara felt like she could breathe again. Despite being a drow, she wasn’t fond of caves or being underground. However, this feeling didn’t last long when they climbed aboard the dingy, and the air turned sour as Edward momentarily withheld their success and the Captain’s temper made an appearance.
Once onboard, despite her exhaustion, Jhara was actually grateful for the work she was given. It was familiar and comforting, and gave her space from her crew mates, but gods it made her miss her crew. It had been barely two weeks since the wreck, and everything felt wrong. A million questions swarmed Jhara’s mind: Why did Piper try to hide the piece? Why did the Captain want it so desperately? Did Jericho and Edward know what it was, and why wouldn’t they tell? What was Morgan’s connection to the ghostly captain? And where the hell was her captain and crew?
Feel free to send me any questions!
#pf2e: Jhara#dnd: jhara#pathfinder#pathfinder 2e#ttrpg#ttrpg campaign#pirate#pirates#pirate campaign#pirate oc#pirate character#cw: ghosts#tw: drowning
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👾
Spooky story, eh?
Well...
One story that has never left me since reading it about 10 years ago is "The Russian Sleep Experiment" found on Creepypasta. It's not for the faint of heart, if you decide to look it up.
When I was a kid, I had a book of poetry about dogs. One of the stories was about a dog that haunted a forest. He was a skeleton dog in cowboy boots and you knew he was coming if you heard rattling bones in the woods at night. I think his name was something like Dry Bones or Bones, but I can't remember the book title, I don't have it anymore. It spooked me at the time.
If we are talking about classic spooky stories, The Monkey's Paw was a book I found very unsettling. It also made me more aware of different meanings and interpretations words can have.
If I look at personal stories, I've had a few spooky things happen to me.
Under the cut, is the story of my experience with a haunted house. It’s my favorite story to tell and completely true. If you want another spooky story, HERE is my haunted forest story. It’s also completely true.
CONTENT WARNING FOR HAUNTINGS, DEMONS, GHOSTS, ETC. BELOW THE CUT.
I Once lived in a haunted house.
Alrighty, so I had lived there for about a month in a room in the basement. The basement itself was completely filled with boxes, furniture, and other random items. The landlady was a hoarder.
There was a small walkway, carved out of the many boxes, that I could use to get to my room. It was so small, I had to turn sideways in some places and I am a fairly small to average sized person. I always wondered what was in the basement among the many boxes and worried that it would all fall down and I'd be buried in stuff until someone found me. My first impression was very uncomfortable.
So I stayed for a while anyway, it was cheap rent and I didn't have anything else lined up. The landlady was religious and I figured that is what the holy water and blessed salt was for...I really wish she had told me the truth up front.
One night, I close the door, get into bed and turn off the light as usual. I fall asleep with the usual amount of difficulty I have every night and all seems just fine.
Now, this house has no indoor pets, no children, and the landlady did not fit down the narrow walkway. I am the only one that could possibly be in my room. So when I feel the blanket is tugged a little, I figure I've dreamed it or imagined it. Maybe the blanket was just sliding off the foot of the bed for whatever reason. I pay it no mind, but I'm mostly awake now. It doesn't take much to wake me up.
I pull my feet up a little and yank the blanket back up a bit. It doesn't move. Now I'm getting a little annoyed and pull it a bit harder, thinking it's stuck. At this point I still haven't opened my eyes.
So, you know how it feels to have a heavy cat climb up onto your bed? That's what I felt at the foot of my bed. I'm definitely awake now and have pulled my feet up closer to my body. I'm starting to panic and pull the blanket over my head. It starts to crawl up onto the bed on all fours. Weight settles on either side of me, over my blanket, pinning me down. Whatever this is, it's holding itself over me on all fours, straddling my body. It starts to lower itself slowly, settling on top of me with the weight of a fully grown man trapped in the body of a toddler. The limbs are far too long, the body far too heavy for it's size.
I use all my strength to push it off of me and slam on the light. Whipping around right away, my eyes settle on...nothing. Nothing hit the ground, nothing fell off the bed, and nothing is in the room with me. I stayed up for the rest of the night, waiting for it to return and warring with myself about whether I just dreamed that or it was real, but it didn't return.
In the morning, I go upstairs and find the landlady in her chair. After staring at her for a moment, I sit down and tell her what happened.
She looked up at me and said this: "It's a good thing you didn't look at it. It's very ugly. Next time banish it in Jesus's name and put this around your bed. There is an unmarked burial ground next door, and I believe there is some kind of portal near your room."
She handed me some blessed salt and some holy water. Both were blessed by a priest. She then asks me, "Have you seen the little girl yet? She's nice."
Somehow, despite never seeing the little girl, I could describe her perfectly.
I left the next day and never returned.
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simon grunts, his chest heaving as he palms at his chub, tracing the twitching muscle of his cock and letting out a hiss at the muted pleasure that razes through him. he shivers at the heated look you give him, your pretty eyes awash with desire, scalding as it trails down the lines of his bulk until it settles on his flesh.
“ah,” you whisper and simon nearly moans at the awe in your voice.
“s’right, baby,” he says, feeling the way he pulses underneath his low-hanging sweats. “s’all f’r you.”
there is a whine that drags itself from the base of your throat, so primal in the way it scratches your vocal cords, and simon has to fist his cock to stop himself from rutting against his palm.
“i can’t,” you whine, pouting, your eyes still trained on his groin. “‘m gonna be late for work.”
“please,” he croaks out, breathless himself. “how about jus’ the tip, love? jus’ give daddy a taste of you ‘round me, yeah?”
simon knows it is playing dirty to pull this card on you—to exploit your one weakness—but simon’s guilt is tucked underneath his stretching need, the desire bloating as it leaks past his rationality, leaving him with thinning restraints.
your sharp inhale is all the answer he needs.
he bites the inside of his cheek to tamp down the smirk dancing to the corners of his lips.
“okay,” you reply, tentative and quiet. “but just the tip, you promise?”
“swear,” simon murmurs.
like a goddamn liar.
he relishes in the squeals dripping from your parted lips, only for them to be muffled into your pillow.
he’s got you on your knees, your front all but pressed flat on the bed, your arms having lost the energy to keep yourself up as simon fucks you from the back. he’s got fistfuls of your ass, using them as sweet, sweet leverage as he manhandles your body back to his cock.
“so good f’r daddy, sweet’art,” he rumbles, his voice so deep it even sounds foreign to him. “so, so fuckin’ good, love.”
he punctuates his words with hard thrusts; drawing his cock out slowly, deliberately torturous so he can watch the way your hole grips at his cock, not wanting to let him go, before punching it back in. he doesn’t stop and keeps pushing his cock past the gummy press of your walls until his hips are pressed flush to the fat of your ass.
then, he repeats the process—sharp snaps of his hips leaving you twitching, and simon watches with a crazed giddiness as your hands uselessly scratch at the sheets as though that could tether you.
he bends forward, his bulk covering your trembling body. “such a cute darlin’ for me, lovie.” he ruts his cock along a particular sweet spot. “say ‘thank you’ to daddy?”
he hears a warbled reply from where your head is pressed to your pillow.
“hmm? wha’s ‘at?”
simon cups a hand on your forehead and carefully pulls, tipping your head up just enough that he can hear you.
he hears a hiccuped sob, then, “than’ you, daddy.”
simon giggles and presses a kiss on the back of your head. “what a good doll y’are.”
something about that makes your body tremble, spasming in his hold, and simon watches with awe as your toes curl, before he has to let go of you at the sudden tightening of your walls. his eyes go white, his ears ringing with a sharp static.
he feels so, so overwhelmed at the expanding euphoria that washes over him, lapping at the synapses from the back of his skull to the cavity of his ribs.
“you came,” simon mutters in awe, his voice passing through his teeth like a gritted hiss. “christ, lovie-”
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#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley smut#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley#cw daddy kink#suns#gushing myself#q
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Couples Shit with Simon Riley (Part 2):
Having a giggle/chuckle fest almost every time you are intimate. It first happened at the beginning of your relationship when you would giggle every time you two kissed. It opened the floodgates, had let that nervous energy out, and Simon was right there chuckling with you. ("Heh—aw, fuck me.")
Swearing up and down that you're gonna fuck each other's brains out but as soon as you hit the bed, you and Simon are out like a light. The last time this happened, he was supposed to go down on you, but the next thing you know, you woke up to him fast asleep with his head on your stomach.
Kissing the bridge of his crooked nose and Simon turning into putty every time. Hell, kissing any and every dent, bruise, and scar, and making your man melt.
A nice round of horizontal tango turning into a cuddle session after you comforted Simon through a charley horse. Poor baby.
Initially making the telly watch you two make sex but turns out whatever you're watching was pretty decent after all so you guys are back to watching the telly again.
Getting hot and heavy one time but you were so intrigued with the mole you discovered on Simon's inner thigh that you spent the next half-hour or so trying to find other moles on his body.
Telling Simon that you "always wanted to do this" and when you get him hot, bothered, and hard, it turns out what you always wanted to do was measure him. His disappointment was immeasurable... even if he was interested to know the number.
Twinning in some way, shape, or fashion whenever you're out together.
Talking mad shit about his snoring but let him tell it, he doesn't say shit when you take up about 80% of the bed, covers, and sleep under him.
Speaking of talking shit, having disagreements like every couple does and when you go to bed, you're angrily cuddling each other. And yes, Simon still wants your kisses in the morning, even if you two are still mad at each other. Simon doesn't give a shit, you're still gonna love on him, dammit. And him on you.
Being mad with Simon when he arrived too late to get the creepy crawler that was harassing you. Harassing you by doing what it does best: be a creepy crawler. Simon tells you you'll have to conquer your fear one day. You tell him to conquer the couch tonight lmao.
Agreeing to disagree about the superior ice cream flavor in the house. It's too bad there's not any of his favorite ice cream in the freezer. There's some of yours, though. Why? You didn't get any because it was so superior that you wouldn't "dare sully it with your hands". Cue the judgemental stare and him eating YOUR ice cream afterward. Rude.
Scaring the ever-living shit out of Simon on the rare occasions he gets to sleep in. He woke up to you sitting up in bed with his mask and paint on. Oh, and he calls bullshit. He did not nearly fall out the bed. Nor did he jump. Okay, Simon.
Chilling and drinking with Simon. Finding out he gets hot and sweaty pretty easily and off comes his clothes. Waking up hungover the next morning and you're the big spoon to a naked and equally hungover Simon. Choosing to do fuck all but sleep it off that day.
Playfully calling or referring to him as the Missus, especially in front of your co-workers. When they finally meet Simon and ask him who he is, he replies in pure deadpan Ghost fashion: "The Missus".
#2queued4u.#nsfw-ish.#cw: alcohol consumption#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty modern lovefare.#simon ghost riley#ghost call of duty#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x reader#cod x reader#cod x you#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#x plus size reader#x poc reader#x black reader#task force 141
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cw dubcon / noncon voyeurism
Ghost keeps fucking you in the safe houses at night. He swears none of the other men can hear you guys despite all uncomfortably packed into one small room, they all sleep like the dead. Just let him fuck you a little, he swears he can't sleep without it. Peeling your sleep pants off to pull you onto his lap, making you ride him reverse cowgirl.
Spearing you on his cock and you're clapping a hand over your mouth from how full you feel in this position, hips jerking when you feel Ghost grab your ass in the dark. He's thrusting his hips up and into you, all you can do is lean back against him and take it. Trying to keep your mouth quiet but you can't control the lewd schlicking noise that accompanies every thrust.
You're getting fucked too good, too deep to notice Gaz stroking his cock slow and thorough under his blanket, to see Soap’s eyes glinting in the moonlight staring you down as he ruts into his makeshift bed, to catch Price as he's cupping his balls and rolling his hips to thrust into his other hand.
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Anything.
Part 3: Lizzie
A be careful what you wish for where Tommy’s three main love interests accidentally wish to be with him
Cw: murder, death, infant death, drug use, hallucinations
Gif by @nofckingfighting
“I’d give anything to be with him.” The woman said to her companion.
“Anything?” the Russian Duchess said with a curious look.
“Anything.”
Grace is shot that same hour.
Lizzie should feel bad, but Grace was never the type to make people like her for who she was.
Tommy had admitted to her the night before his wedding that he only married her out of duty.
That the Grace he had loved was the front she displayed in 1919, but he could not get out of it now.
And yet, when she told him he couldn’t come to her anymore, he and John took it out on Angel. Angel who loved her and understood that she needed to leave before her feelings for Tommy and John’s feelings for her killed them both.
So when the Russian duchess correctly inferred that Lizzie still loved Thomas Shelby ,who hides his disillusion with the golden haired woman on his arm like the best of actors, she admits the truth and seals their fate.
She is not even buried when he comes to her.
He is beautiful when he is sad, melancholy has looked so good on him, she thinks.
“Should’ve never married her, I fucking cursed her to die and I didn’t even love her.” He is rarely this open, but whenever he is it is with his family and Lizzie. Never grace, never the woman who thought he would simply get over the harm she did because she loved him.
Tommy is impossible not to love.
Once you get past the cold shell, he is warm, and sweet and loving.
If Grace’s death was the price to pay for their happiness, so be it.
But they are not happy.
His guilt drives him to make a saint of Grace. Makes his house, the house she and Ada and Lizzie had decorated, its shrine to a woman who died for him and he did not even have the decency to lover her back.
“You know what to do, Elizaveta.” The duchess says during the orgy she has invited her to.
It is there where Lizzie stains her hands red with blood as kills the informant tommy had placed inside the house.
That night, Tatiana scares Thomas into her arms and four months later, Elizabeth is signing her name as Elizabeth Shelby.
This time, Tommy marries because he wants to and not because the bride has gotten knocked up.
A year later, Victoria Grace Shelby is born.
And she is beautiful, and unlike Charles, she is his.
He knew, he knew, but did not say anything. Not even her husband did not make Grace desist from her plans to trap Thomas.
The coroner’s report Lizzie and Polly had pilfered when he told them he was marrying her proved that Clive MacMillan had been murdered, but that his widow had enough money to make them do a new report saying he had shot himself.
But the ghost is not gone.
He seeks Grace with opium and strong drinks.
He has a living woman who saw him as a man who is deserving of love despite his flaws, but he still chooses the woman who saw him as a possession she felt entitled to have because she had blue blood running in her veins.
One night they drink Absinthe to see if it was as exciting as their new friends said it was and both see her.
“You killed me!” she screams at them. “You killed me so you could be together!”
Tommy, sweet and stupid Tommy, thinks the apparition meant him.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he cries as Grace rages at them.
They don’t speak of it.
Best pretend that did not happen and move on.
And they do.
He takes almost everything he had of her and closes it off. He even has a witch woman cleanse the house and force Grace’s ghost to move on.
But the ghost can’t leave, and neither it’s silent companion who watches Lizzie out of the corner of her eye.
“You are cursed, Mrs. Shelby. You cursed them to wander in limbo for a man who cannot even keep it in his pants.” She sneered and spat at her feet. “Be careful with your children, demons like that feast on the sweetest and most innocent of souls.”
Lizzie is pregnant again, another girl, Ruby Elizabeth.
She is born as John lies dying in a different room in this hospital.
She is beautiful and cursed, just like her sister who is barely two years old.
The birth is difficult, there is a fever that won’t leave and her ghosts do not leave her for a moment.
“I killed them.” She confesses to Tommy, or at least she thinks it’s Tommy, in her delirium. The man in the dark suit holds Ruby like a father would. “I wished to be with you, and I killed Grace and the boy in the Russian’s house.”
“You did all that for Thomas Shelby, I wonder what you will do for your baby daughter?” it is not Thomas, Lizzie knows Luca’s voice. No other man here has that American accent like he did even when he was younger.
“Don’t hurt her!” she shouts at him and wished the demon woman would appear.
“Why would I, she’s already dead. They brought her here for you to say goodbye.” The man shows her the baby with the blue pallor of death. “You killed two people for a man, you didn’t deserve to be a mother anyways.
“You human women are so desperate, if you give me Luca Changretta, I suppose I could save your daughter. It won’t be permanent thing, just so you know.” Tatiana says and in that same second, Luca drops to the floor clutching his throat as if he had been strangulated.
Time passes and whatever Lizzie had with Tommy remains the same. They love each other, but he is more closed off.
Hardly home, reeks of other women and most recently staring at Grace’s portrait in the room he’s put them.
Speaks to the ghost more than he speaks to her.
But Lizzie doesn’t care. She has Vicky and Ruby and even little Charlie and they are enough.
Things are fine, things are cold and strange after Polly’s death, but they ---especially him--- are on the mend y the time 1933 rolls around.
And then Ruby gets sick.
Ruby who is only alive because Lizzie made a pact with the devil to save her.
“I’ll do anything you ask me to, just save her. I will give you my life if you want it, just save my child!” the mother begs the demon women in the chapel of the institute.
“Anything?” Tatiana asks with a smirk red as blood.
“Anything.” Lizzie nods. No price is too high for her baby girl.
Tommy dies from a seizure wherever he was.
Esme had found him ,but she and her band of travellers would not touch him or his things saying he was cursed and their curse would pass to them.
Lizzie stands there with her three children as they watch Arthur and Finn light the vardo and Ada speaks the eulogy.
Lizzie thinks she’s lost her mind when she sees Tatiana caress Tommy’s cheek inside the flames just as she starts to feel faint.
“Anything?” Tatiana asks as they drink champagne mixed with top tier vodka at the first Shelby Foundation Gala.
“You should write a novel, your grace. Horror suits you.” Lizzie downs the rest of her pretty glass and leaves to find Angel.
A year later, Elizabeth Stark now Elizabeth Changretta sends her congratulations to Tommy and the unlucky lady he has replaced Grace with.
#lizzie stark x tommy shelby#lizzie stark#lizzie shelby#cw: hallucinations#cw: ghosts#cw: murder#cw:infant death
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underground fighter au goes crazy (inspired by this threadfic over on twitter)
early access + nsfw on patreon
#I read that thread blacked out and woke up to this finished#brainworms…#I’ve already gotten permission from the og thread author to make more…so maybe one or two comics…#oh and um#cw: suggestive#hehe#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#ghostsoap#giragi art
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vegetable patch
hybrid!simon 'ghost' riley
cw: hybrid!au, pwp/smut, breeding, guard dog!simon, bunny!reader, dub-con, outdoor sex
a word from bunny: happy easter! if you like the fic, suggest your own! if you really like the fic, leave a comment! reblogs are always appreciated!
part. 2
what you knew about price's farm was that it had the most lovely heads of lettuce you've ever seen. you also knew that he had two guard dogs who made sure bunnies like you didn't get into the vegetable patch.
but what the farmer grew was much nicer than whatever you could find in the forest. so it was worth it to slip through the fence to get to the bounty of vegetables.
farmer price had two guard dog hybrids. john, also known as soap. and simon, also known as ghost. while john had a louder bark, simon was the one to watch out for.
you had slipped through the fence and kept an eye out for the dogs. with careful steps you did you best to not make footprints in the dirt. you kept your ears low to your head to keep you from being spotted.
"bunny." you heard, a low rumbled of a voice. you looked over and saw the blond. his arms across his chest and his dark eyes gazing down at you.
you swallowed, "hello." you tried to take a step away from him. but ended up face first in the dirt as you tripped over a head of lettuce. you whimpered.
he chuckled, "i can't have you be eatin' that. it's not yours."
you looked up at him, your ears low as you frowned, "you can at least share." but made a sharp noise when simon invaded your space.
he grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head, "it'll cost ya." he said in a low voice.
the guard dog had the luxury of clothes, while you were naked. you tried to squirm out of his grasp but you felt his erection up against your ass. he grunted when you accidentally rubbed yourself up against him.
"stay still, bunny." he said as he pushed your further into the dirt, "be good, or i'll have your throat between my teeth."
you whimpered as he got himself undressed. your ears laid flat against your hear out of fear as you felt him push his cock into you. he had you pinned to the dirt as he started to rut against you.
his cock felt huge and like it took up the entirety of your pussy. you moaned and whimpered, your tail twitched as you felt him move his heavy cock in and out of you.
"good little bunny." he growled as he continued to thrust.
you had no defense mechanism, you were a bunny! you felt his heavy balls slap against your ass as he moved. you tried to grip onto him but he kept you under his larger body.
"sweet little bunny." he purred, "perfect for me." his cock throbbed inside of you as you pushed back against him to meet his thrusts.
your head felt like a blur as he fucked you. your back arched as you felt the pleasure in your body from his heavy thrusts. your face was pressed into the soil as he feverishly moved against you.
his cock felt like it was up in your womb, hitting the edge of it. you panted and whimpered like a good bunny and let the dog hybrid pump you full of hot seed.
your pussy clenched around his length and you squirmed a little underneath him. he grumbled something that you didn't pick up but knew it didn't sound good. so you laid there limp to let him do what he wanted.
he gave you a little bit of praise for being such a good girl for him, such a sweet wholesome bunny to let him use your pussy like that. maybe that would teach you not to be sniffing around vegetable patches again.
"ah, please!" you whimpered
"i love the sound of your struggle, bunny." he let go of one of your wrists and tugged on your ears for a moment.
he pulled them back like reigns on a sled and used it as leverage to thrust deeper into of you. you whined and moaned from the feeling as he pushed as deep as he could get inside of you.
it felt like his cock was in your stomach.
it wasn't long before simon's pace started to stutter, you whined into the dirt and arched your back further. you felt sore but yearned for his cock. with another hard thrust, he shoved his cock as far as it would go and finished inside of you.
your mind went blank afterwards.
but soon your heard, "simon what in the hell" farmer price sighed as he saw you in a heap in the soil with your ass up and your little cottontail in the air.
simon looked almost proud of himself as he licked your cum-filled pussy. his hands on the back of your thighs. he then looked to his owner as his tail wagged.
the farmer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "i guess we're keepin' a bunny then." then got off the porch to see the damage the hybrid had done.
you moaned a little when simon got ready to fuck you once more. your little tail wiggled at the anticipation. you moaned when he slid his cock in once more.
price grumbled to himself, "jesus christ, simon. at least get the girl inside the house!"
-
months later you'd find yourself curled up with the guard dog in front of the television on the floor. your belly had filled out with pups, something that left simon quite protective of you. you lived a lavish life for a bunny who was out in the woods.
But now you were inside the house, and you got all the lettuce you wanted. <3
part. 2
#bunny babbles#hybrid au#cod hybrid au#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost smut#simon ghost riley smut#call of duty x reader#call of duty smut#ghost call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty#ghost mw2#ghost smut#ghost cod#ghost#cw: forced impregnation#breeding k1nk
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wish a ghost was violating me in public and there was nothing I could do about it.
when I’m in the fitting room, disembodied hands pass through my panties, fingering my cunt and playing with my clit until i soak the material, forcing me to buy it.
at work, hands groping my tits, massaging and pinching my nipples, forcing me to hold back tears and moans.
on my way home, shoved into an alley, pants pulled down and spanked without mercy until i’m crying.
in a public restroom, taking my panties away, ripping them to shreds or carrying them far far away, so i’m forced to walk around with the knowledge that my cunt is bare
never letting me cum unless i’m in public. only giving me enough time to hide behind a bush before it’s pounding my cunt until im in tears, shoving disembodied fingers in my mouth, spanking my ass with every thrust.
just..violate when i can’t do anything about it
#nsft concept#nsft thoughts#humiliation kink#cnc k!nk#degrading k1nk#sub thoughts#edging kink#dacryphilia#ghost kink#monsterfucking nsft#monster fucker#monster kink#cnc cw#exhibition kink
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Dead Men Don't Bite
Pathfinder Pirate Campaign Character Reflection
Session 12 & 13
Context: While investigating the ghost that torments the town of Ostemori, Jhara found a moment to speak with Kaela Nightshade, the expert ghost hunter here to train Edward. There had been much talk the last few days of the dead and what can happen if they are not laid to rest properly. Jhara thought of her dead and lost crewmates, and her father, who was not laid to rest the way he would have been in the Underdark.
The person who played Jericho is no longer playing with us, so his character was written out. We had a long gap between sessions as we sorted out this personal issue. Me and the people I play with discussed our comfort levels role-playing his character’s exit in game.
A new player joined us, playing a mushroom leshy named Yunma and he has been very fun to play with!
~
“My father was buried in a box in the sand.”
The words I said to Kaela, a stranger. Words I haven’t even said to my current crewmates. I speak openly of my lost crewmates, but these words are harder to say. Maybe it is the denial, or maybe it’s the guilt. I think I had hoped to find comfort in Kaela and her expertise, but her answers left more questions. I can’t expect her to know everything. That’s not a fair expectation for me to put on her, to know the practices of the drow, to know my family, to know whether what we did was right or not. He was with his family, that’s all that should matter, right? I hope the gods thought so.
For my crew, my crew, I hope the same. And for those still out there, I will find them. I am eager to get back to sea, now that this ghost business has been handled. I’m glad we could put Lyra to rest, but now others are waiting for me. Zaragoza waits for me.
Jericho’s exit was… unexpected. I admit, I didn’t have much of a connection with him, but his presence is a large one to fill. I know Jericho can handle himself. It’s Edward that I’m worried about. They were close. Or perhaps they were simply close by proximity, a relationship of convenience. Either way, I will keep an eye on him.
Now this mushroom man, he’s quite interesting. Not the mushroom part. There are plenty of strange creatures in this world. In this part of the world, I’m a strange creature too. I have yet to meet another drow. I’m not one to make a spectacle of a race I personally haven’t seen before. No, what’s interesting is this role he is meant to fill, and how coincidental the timing is. We were asked to take on a conrasu sapling, and this man was appointed to escort it. I can’t wait to see what the captain thinks of this…
~
Feel free to send me any questions!
#PF2e: Jhara#Cw: death#Cw: ghosts#Character reflection#Dead Men Don't Bite#Pirate campaign#PF2e#Pathfinder 2e#Cw: grief#pirate oc#Ghost hunting#Writing
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