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@chocolate1721
punk pirate 🏴☠️🤘
Reblogging to never lose it
I just wanted to say thank you for the Thor snippet and was wondering if you had any headcanon for this adorable duo?
Thor and Marinette Headcanons!
Thor views Mari as the little sister he never had and as such teaches her Asgardian customs and fighting
He tells Frigga about her, who insist of meeting her and joins in on the whole “Marinette is now Asgardian” business. She teaches her about Asgardian clothing and etiquette and history and literature
Thor makes sure to keep an eye out for the tiny girl. Partially because he has heard of Lila and Chloe and he is worried and partially because he doesn’t want to let her down like he had with Loki
Marinette stress bakes a lot and Thor stress eats. they create a perfect ecosystem of stress relief. When Loki joins in, he is the one who stress buys ingredients and stress cleans the kitchen after those two are done
Marinette is now accustomed to being plucked off the ground and seated on Thor’s shoulder at comepletly random times. Marinette likes being tall and they both feel a little safer knowing the other is so immediately close and okay
I just wanted to add some stuff
•Thor likes to randomly show up to Marinette’s classes and try and rake her out. But he ends up sitting in the back if the class to learn about humans.
•The other avengers had a heart attack when Thor told them he had a sister.
Tony: oh god no there’s another one
Then they actually meet her and are like
They think he kidnapped her.
Oh my stars! I love these additions! Thank you for sharing them!!!!!
Just for the heck of it, have some more!
Marinette has and will punch someone again if they shit talk her big brother(s). Thor is proud.
Mari tried to teach Thor pop culture but it didn’t work out as expected. Subsequently, they now have a whole slew of inside jokes that everyone vaguely understands because they are semi-pop culture related but also so wrong that no one really understands anymore.
Mari is in awe of Asgardian fashion and makes elaborate outfits mixing asgardian and earth fashion, resulting in a whole new over-the-top trend that almost exclusively she and her brother(s) and select others wear. Tony loves it.
Feel Free To Add On!!!!
Ok soooo you said to “feel free” annnnnd I’m feeling free.
•Loki is alive and he scares marinette. . . Who bitch slaps him. And says he deserved it.
Loki: I like her
•Marinette goes fashion crazy at seeing Loki’s clothes. So she makes him a mix of Asgardian and Earth fashion. He. Looks. FABULOUS!
•Loki and Plagg are not allowed to hang out with each other unless they are supervised.
Don't mind if I do~
Loki loves the clothes Marinette makes and sees another way for world domination, through a corporate connection
He and Tony help her set up her business on both Earth and Asgard
She becomes a hit almost instantly, Thor is super proud of his little sister and often models for her ads
All of the avengers now want in, and have bribed her with various things to have her style things exclusively for them.
Black Widow teaches her awesome fighting moves and braids her hair
Steve has Fury and Tony make her a small Shield that she gets to design herself
Odin has offered to make her a statue and place her in honorary god status to which Marinette politely declines because oh my gosh I'm not a God
Hulk likes that she is super strong despite her small size and Banner loves how intelligent she is and lowkey slips facts about his area of expertise to her while they talk
Hawkeye introduces her to his family and they have dinner together often, he also teaches her how to use a bow and arrow and she shows him the uses of a yoyo
I don't think I forgot any of the Avengers
Oh my stars these are fabulous!!! I love them!!!! Y’all know what? Let’s keep this tread going! I am officially offering a challenge to those who choose to accept to add on to this!!!!
Shout out to @chocolate1721 and @zestyzealot for adding their own Headcanons!!!!! I love them alll!!!!!!!
Marinette is recruited to the Avengers and becomes the European representative for them.
The public doesn’t know her civilian identity, knowing her instead as Bruce Banner’s niece who made it big in the fashion world and is an intern at Stark Industries
She is Pepper’s personal stylist, making sure she always looks like the boss bitch she is.
Pepper recruited Marinette to help SI develop more comfortable and affordable business clothes that are still stylish.
Pepper is one of Marinette’s personal heroes and Thor approves as he views Pepper to be on par with Lady Sif.
Marinette is no longer allowed to be around the Warriors Three without supervision. No, they don’t want to talk about it. Several Asgardians still cower at the sound of bird song.
You know what, I like info dumping so let me join in the bandwagon!
Even in her full Asgardian form, Marinette is still shorter than many Asgardians. When Marinette is in her normal form, shes almost two heads shorter than both Loki and Thor, and when she's in her full Asgardian, Marinette is still short in Asgardian standards.
Because of her size, many Asgardians (especially Thor and Loki) are very protective of her because they can't help it.
Heimdall likes to share some tea about Loki and Thor to Marinette. This causes Marinette to gain a whole heap of blackmail about the two gods and does a whole lot of mischief learning. (Heimdall sees everything so he's able to see and recount many embarrassing moments of the two Odinsons.)
Once learning that Marinette is a holder of a miraculous, both Loki and Thor got into a debate on which one they would teach Marinette more. Thor wanted to teach Mari more combat style lessons while Loki wanted to teach Mari how to properly use magic, however in the end they were able to make a comprise.
Once Valkyrie aka Brunhiddle comes in, she tries to convince Marinette to join the Valkyries which both Loki and Thor approves. (Thor literally said that he wanted to be a Valkyrie when he was younger of course he's going to encourage Mari to do the same).
Once Thor visits Marinette's family bakery, it quickly became a favorite amongst Asgard as they find the treats there very delicious. It also doesn't help that Thor almost brought and ate everything much to the gobsmacked reactions of the Marinette's parents.
Oh my gosh! I didn’t notice these additions early but by the stars @heckinggremlin these are amazing!!!! I was cackling the whole way through! Thank you for adding them!!!!
May I?
Odin tries to convince Tom and Sabine to give him joint custody of their daughter. He fails. Miserably.
Loki swears to do no mischief under the Dupain-Cheng roof. He’s is convinced Sabine is either a Goddess or royalty in disguise.
Marinette can hold Mjolnir. Adrien can move it a little. Lila tries to touch it and is shocked unconscious.
Max becomes Bruce’s intern.
Jagged Stone and Kitty Section are the first Earth musicians to hold concerts in Asgard. XY is banned.
Loki turns into Lila and outs her lies to the class.
Various Avengers get into fights over which college Marinette will attend. Tony says he will pay for her education, up to and including a Doctorate, if she’ll keep him in cool suits.
Alya gets an exclusive with Frigga, who is the most influential person in Asgard. She has all of the naked baby pictures.
Tom and Sabine are offered a contract to provide pastries for SI’s New York branch. Marinette delivers them via Kaalki.
Thor and Loki forbid any boy from asking Mari out unless they can pass a Trial by Combat or Trial of Wits. They are occasionally overruled.
YOU GUYS ARE FORGETTING THE BEST PART ABOUT THIS CROSSOVER!!!
"THE GET HELP" METHOD WOULD BE AMAZING IN THIS CROSSOVER!!
Marinette is smaller than both Loki and Thor. She's also very scrawny compared to both of them.
So a moment comes that the "Get Help" strategy can work, Thor suggests to do it.
Of course Loki immediately says no but Marinette being Marinette gets curious and asks.
Thor excitedly tells her and Marinette at first is kinda reluctant to do it but after Loki using magic to make Marinette more resistant to pain as Thor tends to throw really hard and some Kwamis using their own magic to enhance her also, Marinette is definitely doing "Get Help".
With either Trixx's or Loki's help with illusions, Marinette looked injured and with how frail she looks compared to thor, the enemies definitely lowered their guard more than if they saw Loki.
Literally seconds later, Thor picked Marinette up and..... Thor proceeds to YEET Marinette to the horde of enemies.
Marinette literally flew into the air because she was so light and was thrown so hard that she accelerated faster than Loki if he was thrown.
Of course the enemies didn't saw this coming and as a result, they were knocked out as Marinette bodyslammed against them.
Although Marinette definitely didn't came out of that experience unscathed, she had a lot of fun getting yeeted into the air and asked Thor if they could it again sometimes. Of course without her parents or the avengers knowing because god help them if they figure out what will happen if they found out.
@heckinggremlin has done it again! I love your additions they are so creative and fun. I’m still grinning for ear to ear!!! Thank you so much for this!!!!
Ajisbsba THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I love interacting with the fanbase and I find that ML is a franchise that's easily to be compatible with crossovers!! Since quarantine literally made me bored, i have more creative ideas!
There's this tumblr post where Thor gave Peter beer after a fight and when Tony said Peter is 15, Thor gave Peter 2 beers because he was a "growing boy"
Thats literally Thor is when it comes to Marinette.
He offers her asgardian mead not knowing that Marinette isn't allowed to drink and they don't know how asgardian mead will affect her, and everyone quickly caught on what was going to happen. others immediately stop Thor and quickly explain what he was doing was in a way wrong.
Of course Thor listens cause he's not a fool.
When Hulk makes an appearance, he takes note about the relationship between Marinette, Thor and Loki.
Hulk then proceeds to refer Marinette as "Baby Avenger" (based out of a fanfic I read). Not tiny person, not tiny avenger, but BABY AVENGER.
This causes everyone to collectively loose their shit and Marinette is lowkey freaking out because she's seen as part of the avengers.
Both Hulk and Marinette get along great and she has created pants that's Hulk tear proof once Bruce hulks out and he really appreciates it.
Marinette then hears about Loki's interactions with Jeff Goldblum at Sakaar and she straights up side eyes Loki cause SHE KNOWS the implications about it.
Of course Loki can't say anything about it because that means incriminating himself and ultimately revealing everything causing Thor to gain more blackmail.
Marinette tends to stay up late designing and finishing commissions so she chugs coffee pots like its nothing.
She, Bruce and Tony bond over it.
However Marinette's coffee consumption has both Loki and Thor worried and they tried to pry her away from coffee once.
Once is the only time they try to do such a thing.
Because the moment they pull her away from coffee, it was the moment where Marinette almost took down 2 gods because she was so sleep deprived that day that her brain forgot to process her surprise.
She immediately apologies once she finds out what she has done and all of the avengers vow to never forcefully not let Marinette have coffee.
@heckinggremlin you are amazing! Mah heart!!!
No but seriously you are doing amazing sweetie!!!! Keep up the good work!
I think we’re all forgetting another almost-Avenger — Spider-Man .
It’s cannon (in comics at least?) that Spidy and Hulk are bro’s.
(I like to ignore the romantic subplot between Bruce/Hulk and Black Widow because it was just so weird and awkward, but there was that too. Anyway...)
Spidy is a little jealous of the new bug. She’s tiny and cute and fearless about scrambling up the Hulk like a jungle gym to sit on his shoulder — which was totally his thing first.
Then Tony makes some sort of joke about Hulk’s new bug collecting hobby.
Hulk has two shoulders, and it’s a much better height to be at when glaring at Ironman. (Especially since Peter’s still a bit shorter. He’ll catch up eventually, but he hasn’t yet.)
Natasha puts an end to that line of teasing with just a smile. The teens are suitably impressed.
Though, Hulk does tend to get along well with bug-themed heroes. They tend to be small and light-hearted and open to being friends with a big green rage monster. Ant Man is a friend too. And if we want to cross over with DC, Blue Beetle absolutely joins Hulk’s group of baby bug heroes.
(Robin too, and Tony attempts a ‘birds and bees’ joke that ends up quickly aborted when he catches sight of Natasha.)
Get Help is absolutely Marinette’s favorite. Especially once she convinces Thor to let her be the one throwing people. (Girl’s got super strength when she’s transformed. 🤷🏼♀️) Thor reluctantly agrees to it, egged on by Loki’s teasing and Marinette’s excited wiggling.
Marinette, even as Ladybug, is tiny and adorable , and not a terrible actor. The enemies don’t even think to expect trouble from the little girl struggling to prop up a much larger man.
Then Thor is flying at their heads.
Loki is living! Adopting Marinette is absolutely the best thing his older brother has ever done.
Marinette introduces the ploy to the other baby heroes.
Spider-Man tends to instinctively stick to people’s faces when he’s yeeted at them. It’s hilarious. Robin bounces off people’s heads, cackling like the little gremlin he is. Blue Beetle sort of just flails, forgetting he can actually fly, and tucks last minute so he hits the opponents like an armored bowling ball.
Spider-Man decides that actually he’s okay with the new bug heroine after all.
Oh @draw-me-some-stories you are a genius. I am on the brink of tears this is so pure and I live for it!! Thank you for adding these to this insane tread!!
I come bearing more gifts for this thread!
Marinette's biology was very interesting as she is Asgardian but yet it took her being in contact with mjolnir to reveal her Asgardian DNA.
Well Tony, Bruce, Loki and Thor decided to look into Marinette's bloodline and found out Asgardian DNA was prominent in both of her mother and father's side.
However the DNA was doormat and needed either a very strong magical artifact or coming into contact with something or someone closely associated with Asgard to activate her Asgardian DNA.
Even when Marinette a ladybug miraculous holder, Tikki knew that theres was something about Marinette that she can't quite figure. Tikki hasn't meet any Asgardians in such a long time that she forgoten the tell tale signs of Marinette being Asgardian.
However Mjolnir can sense other Asgardians even when their DNA is dormat, Mjolnir sensed Marinette's both dormat DNA and magical pull, so Mjolnir activated Marinette's asgardian DNA.
Since this crossover is MCU based, im about to give some angst.
Hela comes and she has escaped her prison and is ready to wreck havoc. She then faces off her brothers and.... sister? Marinette immediately catches her attention, especially when it comes to her magical presence. It only takes her a few moments to figure out that she's not only a miraculous holder, but shes a ladybug holder and a guardian (Hela knows due to many guardians and miraculous holders are in her domain as Goddess of Death). Hela being focused on Marinette made Thor, Loki, Marinette and Tikki (who is with Mari) really worried and they didn't had time to react what happens next. If anyone didn't knew better, people would think Hela will attack Thor first or at least Loki, but no she insteads goes after Marinette first. The rest what happens after the attack is up to you guys and your imagination!
@heckinggremlin you are an absolute genius!!!!!!
The thing about using so much magic and being the epicenter of creation magic in the universe, Marinette is extremely hard to kill. Some of it can be attributed to her Asgardian heritage but most of it is the fact that Creation will never truly be destroyed and since Marinette is basically Creation Incarnated, she can be serious harmed by most means but only the Black Cat can kill her
Since there is no Black Cat at the moment, she is seriously harmed by Hela and weakened but not dead. She is human but also momentarily Creation. Marinette will continue to be Creation till the day she gives up the Miraculous, effectively making her immortal.
Thor, Loki and Tikki are relieved to find out about this. Tikki has suspected, as this does happen to Ladybug choosers but only the ones that are really really connected to the Miraculous.
(imma steal a little from A:TLA shhhh) If Marinette concertes hard enough, she can access the knowledge of previous Ladybugs and even become more powerful in that focused state. This is how she remakes Asgard after it blows up.
She literally walked out into space with glowing eyes and a red glow about her and in her red, gold and silver dress that’s a combination of a warriors battle armor and a flowing robe. Sort of like a combination of these two:
Everyone is scared for her and a little bit of her even though they know she wouldn’t hurt them. She literally rebuilds Asgard but upgraded right in front of their eyes, bringing back the people who died unnecessarily during this little conflict.
When Thanos comes a knocking.... well, let’s just say that Mari has the Black Cat Ring and is not afraid to use if it means saving the universe from such a piece of trash being.
Omg it’s been a while since I came here, but y’all are forgetting the most badass moment in this:
The moment when the avengers go to the bakery for the first time.
Thor
Thor explodes in. Holding his hammer and smiling like an idiot.
“I have come to pick up my sister”
Sabine is confused af and is like “who”
Marinette heard the commotion and is BEGGING every single Kwani that this isn’t who she thinks it is
Unfortunately the only one who heard her was plagg and he is cackling
Marinette skids into the backers and comes face-to-face with Thor
“Ah sh-“
“Ah there you are sister, come the Alfather does not like waiting.”
Sabine doesn’t know who this blonde haired weed dude is (if Thor was human I totally see him smoking weed) but he isn’t taking her baby anywhere
Sabine yeets him out of the bakery.
Marinette then explains to Sabine that Thor adopted her as a sibling.
Sabine then drags Thor back inside and interrogates him.
Thor is truly terrified of Sabine
Tony
Tony, much like Thor, busts in the bakery, but he is expecting Sabine and Tom to be like all the other intern’s parents.
He was not expecting to be verbally destroying by a tiny Asian woman.
He couldn’t get a word in
Then he made a mistake. He continuly tries to argue with Sabine
But he somehow ended up buying all their pasteries
Marinette then shoots him an email. “You done messed up. Never try to argue with my mom. She always wins. Give me a weeks warning before you come here, so this never happens again.”
Natasha
Natasha actually comes in like a normal person. She buys some food and tells Sabine she is there to commission something.
Sabine can tell that Natasha has emotional and mental scars, so she adopts her as a sister.
Natasha doesn’t realize it but Sabine would make the worlds best spy.
Natasha doesn’t know how this happened but on her birthday she gets a letter from the Dupain-Cheng’s that said “to our adopted sister/aunt we love you and wish you nothing but the best”
Natasha then goes to peter and shows it to him.
“Is this what being adopted against you will is like”
“Yes”
This is all I have because I just woke up sorry
@chocolate1721 this is such a great addition! Sabine Cheng is a force of nature and I love how you wrote her!
Hey so I’m back with more avengers meeting Sabine for the first time
Steve
• Is very polite, a bit shy, and quiet. Sabine asks him if he would be her taste tester.
• (I headcanon Tom and Sabine collect vintage recipes and try to incorporate some of them into their bakery)
• Sabine and Tom have been trying out some baked good recipes from the 40’s but they never know if it turns out right or not.
• Steve loves helping out, whenever he tries one of the recipes (and the recipe is done right) he gets so nostalgic for his time.
• Tom also puts him to work on making bread with him.
• This is how steve discovered Marinette’s true strength
•Steve sometimes likes to sit in the bakery and draw.
Bucky
• like steve, Bucky is polite, but a bit more outgoing
• he also is a vintage recipe taste tester
•Bucky spends more time just enjoying some coffee/tea and reading.
• He and tom make animal treats for local animal shelters (his first akuma is Mr pigeon.)
•The Dupain-Chengs gift him books. Sabine has a few friends in antique shops who keep an eye out for old books. They found one of the books he lost back in the war…he cried.
Wanda and Pietro
•they are adopted. Marinette now has another brother and a big sister!
•No this is not up for discussion.
•Tom researches Slovakian recipes.
•The twins are suspicious. They don’t know how to act. Especially when Pietro makes a snarky comment and Marinette snarks back earning both a smack on the hand from Sabine.
Masterlist
On The Run Series :
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
OTR Drabbles:
Breeding Season
Bed Warmer
Knock First
Clothing Preference
NEIGHBOR SIMON:
bokuto fucking your insecurities away
i LOVE his character. very fun to write. would love to do any requests for him!! working on an oikawa request now :)
warnings. nsfw. conversations around body image issues info. nsfw / rough sex / friend sex / chubby!reader / insecure!reader / bokuto has a praise thing / impatient!bokuto / airhead!bokuto / sweet!bokuto / bokuto likes big girls / dumb dick bokuto / pool party setting / 2.3k words
haikyuu collection. more here. links. masterlist / my ao3 / request box
Watchful eyes tracked the arrival of a group of girls from the house to the poolside, all clad in their colorful swimsuits, hats, sunglasses, and smiles.
Bokuto bumped a serve up to Akaashi and grinned at the perfect opportunity to show off in front of you.
SLAM! Right into the water on the other side of the net, splashing Washio hard in the face.
He cursed loud at his unnecessary force, but quickly shut himself up when the girls came walking around the side of the pool. He pushed the water off of his face with flexed arms.
Something was wrong, though. Bokuto swam to the side of the deep-end and pushed his body up to sit on the edge despite the game going on.
"Hey!" He waved enthusiastically to a couple of girls and brought them over.
They were more than happy to bend over in front of his sculpted, shiny body, but his attention was only taken by your absence.
"Where's (Y/n)?"
They frowned and stood back up, half-heartedly mentioning that you wouldn't come out of the room they all changed in, and walked away.
That just wouldn't do. He turned to look at the house.
(polyship) Alpha Daichi & Suga with Pregnant Omega Reader
AN: I really like how Daichi and Suga pair together, thank you for requesting this!
Word count: 900
Keep reading
tumblr’s code may change but no notes ghost stays the same
Oh thank god
imagine the shit storm when tumblr finally becomes so dysfunctional that this post’s total notes is finally revealed
In case anyone’s curious about what happened to this post, it has to do with how we tally up notes. Likes and reblogs always add to the note count of the root post (the OP). However, the note count relies on the previous value of the root post before adding more notes to it.
Normally when you delete a post, it’s gone, but not gone gone. Just deleted from public never to be seen again. The database entry is still there, just inaccessible.
This post, however, the root post is just gone. Gone gone. Gone forever. Everything attached to it is still there, but since the root post is hard deleted, it’s got nothing to add to. When the note counter tries to add notes to nothing, it goes nowhere.
So it throws every new note into the void. Goodbye forever, notes.
I’m not sure if we’ll ever know the real number of notes on this post.
date of origin: unknown
Woooooahh
I have seen the true power of the Tesseract, and when I wield it…
🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤
Monster Fics
Fics:
Dinner is served (Minotaur × fem!reader)
Just being neighborly (Orc x yandere fem!reader)
Little hatchlings (Dragon x fem!reader)
Perfection to me (Monster x fem!reader)
Tying you up (Yandere Centaur x fem!reader)
Heads or tails? (Dragon x fem!reader)
In the darkness (Shadow Demon x fem!reader)
The venom’s test (Naga bf x fem!reader)
Bite me baby (Werewolf bf x Vampire fem!reader)
A surprise visit (Tentacle Monster x fem!reader)
The kiss of fate (Shark Hybrid x fem!reader x Merman)
Late to the event (Bull Hybrid x fem!reader)
Blurbs/Imagines:
Kissing your drider (drider x gn!human)
Werewolf/Vampire bf period eating out (Werewolf x Vampire x fem!reader)
Monsters reacting to you getting hurt pt 1
Vampire cockwarming (Vampire x fem!reader)
Firefighter centaur (Centaur x gn!reader)
Obedient Pup (Puppy hybrid x fem!reader)
Full moon but you’re the one chained up (Werewolf bf x fem!reader)
Fourth of July w/ Monster bf (Monster bf x fem!reader)
Teasing the monster under your bed (Tentacle monster x fem!reader)
[Commission] First time having period sex w/ Monster bf (Monster bf x fem!reader)
Cuddles with your Werewolf (Werewolf x fem!reader)
Dominating your monsters (Vampire x Fae x fem!reader)
Prey for your predator (Tiger Hybrid bf x Deer Hybrid fem!reader)
Down days with your bf (Monster bf x gn!reader)
Shifting slime (Slime Monster gf x fem!reader)
Slime mixture (Snail Hybrid bf x Slime Monster fem!reader)
Just one drop (Vampire bf x fem!reader)
Monsters being nerds
Grooming session (Hybrid Tiger bf x Hybrid Deer fem!reader)
Taking a walk (Werewolf bf x fem!reader)
Good Boy’s Reward (Puppy Hybrid bf x fem!reader)
knights in shining tactical gear | masterlist
s. 'ghost' riley x f!reader x j. 'soap' mactavish
Summary: After the undead apocalypse has destroyed most of society, your main goal is to survive and take care of your baby niece. At a moment of utter desperation, two veterans come to your rescue.
Warnings/Info: Zombie Apocalypse AU | 18+ Only, MDNI | found family; strangers to lovers; slowburn-ish; angst; hurt/comfort; horror; humor; smut; m/f/m; mind the warnings for each chapter
💀chapter one; to the rescue
💀 chapter two; converging
💀 chapter three; domestic bliss
💀 chapter four; hells bells
💀 chapter five; carnality
💀 chapter six; Coming soon!
Say You Won't Let Go
Last House on the Right
Pairing| John Price x F!Single Mom!Reader Rating| E Word Count| 1.1k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Post Apocalypse!AU, Single Mom!verse, pregnant reader, mentions of pregnancy related eating issues + vomiting, Reader's got some separation issues. Fair warning this is so half baked I haven't even decided what kind of apocalypse it is, but somehow Ive got a whole plotline regardless.Same pairing as my fic Blind Date
Next Chapter
You can’t believe your luck.
You’re not sure what exactly it was about this house in the dead of night that had you so transfixed, but your intuition has paid off in spades.
The area’s been abandoned, to your knowledge leaving you the sole inhabitant meandering around.
Or maybe waddling would be a more apt description.
Sibling mischief
Loki x little sister
Summary: Loki believed himself to be the last of his kind, destined to be alone, but a visit to Jotunheim would prove him terribly mistaken.
Notes: y/n age up for your interpretation (i wrote this on two hours of sleep)
Word count: 724
Warnings:none
“GET BACK HERE YOU RACSAL!”
Loki shouted for you while chasing you through the Asgardian forest as your giggles filled the air. Never in the thousands of years that Loki had roamed the universe did he think he'd have a sister. He had been so sure he was the last of his kind, but that all had changed the fatal day he returned to Jotunheim.
—————
It had been a dreadful day, weeks even. Despite his brother’s attempt to connect with him and his father's feigning affection, Loki was lonely. Lonelier than usual, so he traveled to the one place he could find solitude, jotunheim. The abandoned realm offered him the silence he needed to ponder about his existence, his burden.
His trance was broken by an unclear echo, he stood straight, pulling his dagger. “Who goes there!?” He exclaimed. he heard it again, a faint wail. “You dare mock a god!” He shouted as he began to follow the sound up a mountain. The cries were now clear and aggravating “Show yourself.” Loki demanded, scanning the rubble. His body came to a halt, seeing a glow coming from behind a rock. Loki slowly approached before shoving the rock out of the way. Lokis breath hitched as he dropped his dagger.
“Why hello there,” Loki said dropping to his knees, eyes wide as he stared, it was a baby. a baby that seemed to be frozen in time, as it had been a millennia since the last frost giant inhabited Jotunheim. “A frost giant baby” Loki whispered to himself, slowly lifting you into his arms as your cries began to subside. “A baby sister…” a small smile crept on his face.
Loki returned home where he would have to present you to Odin. a screaming match ensued. “how dare you bring a frost giant into my realm!” Odin screamed from his throne “you endanger our people with your reckless actions” he accused “She is no more than a baby!” Loki screamed back as he held your crying form against him. “Father hear Loki out, the baby can do no harm” Thor intervened earning a glare from Loki “i do not need your pity brother” he snarled, turning back to his father beginning to approach the throne “How dare you accuse me of being reckless when it was you who snatched me from Jotunheim, denied me of my identity and power, for years! You will not deny me a sister!” Loki screamed in Odin's face as guards began to approach. A simple raise of Odin's hand stops the guard in their tracks.
Odin's calm gaze met Loki's enraged one before glancing at you, as you rested against his chest, your small hand gripping the leather of his clothes. “Loki, do you swear to take full responsibility for this child as long as it roams Asgard?” Odin questioned. "I do," Loki stated firmly. "And if this child is to cause any issues, you shall take full responsibility, including punishment?" Odin continued. "I do. She is my burden," Loki stated clearly. "The child may reside on Asgard."
——————-
You let out green puffs, using your powers to distract him, but as soon as Loki had you in his sights he used his shadow powers to trip you. You went down with a hard thud “you truly are the goddess of mischief, sister” loki smirked leaning against a tree watching as you rubbed your forehead “that isn’t fair!” You exclaimed. “If you stopped running off when im trying to teach you, you would have known how to avoid thag trick.” Loki stated standing over you, extending his hand “now come on, before the sun sets” you took his hand and began heading back to the castle “loki…will you tell me the story of how you found me again?” You asked looking up at him with puppy dog eyes, he scoffed.
“Of course darling…”
Cherry Pie 🍒
Mob! Loki x female baker! reader
18+ | contains smut, slight breeding kink
Clearing away the things on the counter, you made your way to the cupboard, putting the flour away before you heard the door chime. It wasn’t long ago that you changed the open sign to closed however you stupidly didn’t lock the door. Huffing to yourself, you put the flour down before you called out.
“We’re closed.”
“Even for me.” You heard the stranger reply before your eyes widened at the rich familiar voice. Quickly, you made your way to the front of the shop.
Be Mine [Loki x Reader]
A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: A morning meeting has an unexpected twist. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Language. Smutty. Avenger!Loki x Female Reader. Questionable flirting techniques. (w/c 2.8k)
The muscle at the side of Loki’s jaw flexed. He swallowed; an achingly glacial bob of his Adam’s apple making you want to claw your eyes out.
For some inexplicable reason he had opted to wear full leathers to today’s briefing.
It was seven nineteen in the AM. Thor was sporting a muscle vest boasting not one but three stains of varying complexity and a pair of shorts which left little to the imagination. Scott was wearing his dressing gown.
mail-order bride x simon "ghost" riley masterlist
this story is meant to be open-ended and vague. a collection of scenarios between simon and his mail-ordered bride.
cw: this piece isn't necessarily nsfw or dark, but i will not promise it won't contain these themes as these pieces are literally posted on the spot with random prompts (18+)
early delivery
no privacy
help wanted
get off my lawn
views
quiet hours
expectations
necessity
no past
#mail-order tag (lore + more lmao)
Outlaw Gunslinger!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Plus Size!Reader x Marshal!Johnny "Soap" MacTavish
Tw: sexual content, crass language, violence
You're nabbed by him before your hotcakes flipped.
yeah yeah yeah 1600s au where john price's wife is your dutiful queen, and you are the doting, shy lady-in-waiting, but, today, something isn't right. (dark!ghost x fem!reader, 18+)
cw: reader described as curvier/plus-sized, mentions of war + violence, possessive!ghost, war-criminal!ghost, inaccurate historical settings probably, unprotected piv, cumplay, breeding kink, size kink, ghost is obsessed with your tits
it is not a secret that you are afraid of the king's men. there is a reason that they have a reputation of cruelty. ravagers, conquerors, unruly and untamed--they train like dogs, and they live like them, too. by accident, you have wandered to where their barracks are, and if it wasn't for the happenstance of your king hearing your screams, they would've taken your virtue that night.
that one belongs to my wife, he had said, gripping you by the scruff of your neck. spoil it, and i'll have your fuckin' heads. his queen had been much kinder when he returned you back inside, cradling your head in her lap and promising to have something fashioned for you to wear so none of his men would ever touch you again.
and they haven't. they do not bow to you, but they open the doors for you, move out of your way, try to keep their eyes off of the softness of your cleavage and the curve of your skirt. but there is one that does not, there is one that refuses, and this one you avoid the most.
you don't know him by any other name other than ghost. the right hand of the king, his most trusted advisor and his most brutal of men. there are times when he barges into the throne room, his sword dragging along the stone floor and trailing blood in its path, and he tosses the head of the king's enemy onto the floor. you clutch onto the skirt of your queen's dress, tears welling up in your eyes, and when you look up, he is staring at you, heaving in the metal of his armor, and you look away as his men yell out proudly as they crowd the room.
his eyes are always on you when you are in his presence. they track you as you move behind your queen, follow you as you eat and drink and tend to her majesty's needs. he wanders the halls, and he observes you as if you are his next meal. and maybe you are--if he suddenly decided you would be his next conquest, you don't think a refusal is in order. maybe that's the mercy he gives you; just the aggressiveness of his stare and his stare only, and not the strength of his hand or the cruelness of his demeanor.
there is always a party. always a celebration for this brute. he is praised by politicians and priests alike, because he must be the hand of god, delivering whatever the king asks for when it is asked of him. he does not lose, all he comes back with is chests full of gold and new slashes to add to the growing collection on his skin. sometimes you wonder if he puts them on himself. you wonder if he drags his dagger in a crooked line down the length of his arm, as if he is tallying his win, counting up to a number that already puts the men that came before him to shame.
he seems like the kind of man to do so--like the kind of man to do it even with the blood of his adversary still warm on the sharp edge of the blade, the kind to lick it clean when he's finished just to solidify the unease and the terror of the next man to have the unfortunate fate of ending up at the wrong end of his adrenaline.
he has no face. he has no name. and if he is coming for you, it's already too late; your fate has been sealed, and you should say your last rites. the only mercy he ever gives is that death is always quick. his sword is too sharp, and his hand is too heavy.
it is late in the evening when you hear it. there's screaming in the courtyard, yells and howls and cheers. you put down your hairbrush, getting up and padding to the window to look outside. the king's men are there, hundreds of them milling about and walking around. they share mead and wine, crusty bread in their muddy hands. they are bloody and bruised, but they are happy. they sing and chant, hold each other and crowd around fires. they left weeks ago, and they are back now, and you suspect it must be victory on account of their demeanor.
you are not surprised by this. they aren't kind, but it makes them good soldiers. they aren't afraid to die; it's a common idea in your culture that for a man to die in battle is the only way to true salvation, to actual ascension. you have always hated this idea. boys become cruel, and men become unforgiving, and it is why you are so grateful to be her majesty's lady-in-waiting because it means she is your only duty and nothing more.
you are surprised by the knock on your door. you think about ignoring it, but then there is another knock, and then a familiar, low voice mutters, "are you awake, my lady?"
you tie your robe and scurry. when you open up the door, you curtsy low and graceful, your eyes drawn to the floor as you tremble a little in the king's presence. you've never really spoken to him before, not without his queen at your side.
"y-yes, your majesty? i'm sorry for my appearance, i--"
"it's quite late," he says gently. "you don't have to apologize. is it alright if i come in?"
you stand from your curtsy, blinking up at him. you think for a few moments before you nod, widening the door. he settles himself at the seat by the window, looking down into the courtyard. he has a hint of a smirk on his face as he looks down at his men, still singing.
"i have a request of you," he says finally. you take a seat at the edge of your bed, wringing your hands nervously in your lap. whatever his request is, you don't know why he's putting it this way. you're not exactly allowed to refuse. "it is time for my most decorated men to receive their titles. they deserve it, after what they have done for me these past few years."
you swallow, "yes, of course. you have such a fine army, your majesty. you must be...v-very proud."
he turns to face you, and he nods.
"these titles come with land. money. responsibility. and it comes with other things they might request," he explains. "one of these things can be a bride."
"they are most fortunate," you say softly, trying to smile. he stands, turning back to look down into the courtyard.
"you are to be wed tomorrow," he tells you. "i know you gave up much to accept your role at my wife's side, and for that, i have arranged for a sizable dowry on your behalf. congratulations, my lady." he turns to smile at you. "by sunset, you are to be a duchess."
you're shaking when he goes. you clutch the sheets, sinking to your knees, and you cry. you cry because you know who asked for your hand. you know who wants you, you know who it is, because every time he comes back from war, he cannot take his eyes off of you. he eats you with his gaze, he violates you and has never even touched you, he takes from you, and you've never spoken to him, but you know it's him, you know it, you know it--
your queen is ecstatic. she lends you diamonds to wear, and she fusses over the embroidered silk and cotton dress they've sewn for you overnight. she tells you she's so proud, that you will make such a beautiful bride and a beautiful duchess, and it takes all of your strength not to cry, to choke back your sobs. your innocence will be gone by the next morning, you know this, and yet here she beams about colored fabric and your new, unwanted title and all of the duties you have never, ever wanted for yourself.
marriage will be your prison, and you will never be free. you'll be hidden behind closed doors and forced to carry loud, chubby babies.
you are not the only bride that afternoon, but you feel like the most important. your veil is the longest, your dress is the most intricate, and you are wearing the queen's diamonds. not to mention, you are to become a duchess, and the rest will be lords and ladies, nothing more. you have always hated the hierarchy that society fits themselves into, but you've never despised it more than this moment.
he is waiting for you when you make it to the throne room. he wears his armor, polished and without blood, his face covered and his hood up to shadow his dark eyes. he wears his telltale insignia with pride, the skull motif of his belt gleaming and the paint of his mask fresh. he stands tall and menacing, a reaper in human skin, and you are so close to tears as you make your way to him. your eyes find his, and he holds out his hand for you to take. you slip a delicate hand into his gloved one, letting the rough fabric warm you as he brings you to stand in front of him. he purrs, you think, a low rumble as his eyes look you up and down.
you are a prize. a trophy. nothing more. a gift given for cutting the heads off of your king's foes, and that is all.
the ring on your finger is gold, and the ring you slip over his is silver. and then he gives you his first gift as your husband--a tiara, made of emerald and gold, and he slips your veil off to tuck it between the strands of your hair. the intricate pattern on the tiara matches the patterns along the iron of his armor, and you want to think of this as a gesture of good will, but you know it is given with possessive intent, a brand of ownership.
because that is what this is. not a ceremony of love, but an exchange, a transaction. you've been bought with blood, and there is nothing you can do about it.
but one day he will grow bored of me, and maybe then, i'll feel myself again.
he narrows his eyes, glares, and your lips part, trembling, you are terrified. his response is to growl with delight, his eyes falling to stare at the laces that hold in your cleavage. you observe this fact--the fact that you have things that other ladies do not. you are not tiny like them, not thin nor delicate. you are warm, soft, and the squeeze of your breasts in your dress draw him in.
you are a prisoner, now. but perhaps, if you play this game correctly, you can be in your ward's good graces. this is the hand you've been dealt; perhaps there is still a way to win if you steel your bluff.
the party is lively. there is music, gold coins tossed haphazardly on tables, so much dancing and enough food to stuff yourself for days. there is endless wine, and there are brides seated in laps, hungry new couples kissing and whispering soft nothings into each other's ears. the king blessed you all, told you to enjoy your new lives, your new titles, to make your country proud and raise pretty, fat babies.
you sit aways from him. you don't speak, just stare at your dinner plate, sipping wine absentmindedly as you think about the rest of your life and how miserable you will be. you think about the control you have never had, the choices you have never been given, and you wish so badly that you were a man.
men simply ask for, and then they receive. women simply hope that their eyes don't meet a flame too hot to handle.
his eyes bore into your head. when you catch his gaze every once in a while, all he does is tilt his head to the side and observe you. the beauty that you are, the woman that no one can have, the supple tits that belong to him, and the perfect cunt he knows that you have under the multitude of skirts you hide it under. your skin glows, your hair is healthy, you will give him everything that he needs, that he craves.
you'll look so beautiful carrying his heir. you'll look so perfect when you begin to wear the dresses he will buy you, when you sleep in the bed in the house that he gives you, when you stand in the kitchen that he builds for you. although, a woman like you deserves to do nothing but relax, be pampered, to lay down on a bed of furs as he eats your sweetness and fucks you stupid.
when the morning is early, you sneak out. you scurry to your bedroom, closing the door behind you for a moment of peace. you take a seat on your bed, the bed you aren't sure you will have for much longer, and you sit there and stare at your feet until the door opens.
you know who it is right away. coming in unannounced, because now he is allowed to, because everything in this room now belongs to him, from the thread holding your dress together to the very breaths you take.
you sit up straight, turning your head. ghost slips through, taking up the space by the door as it shuts behind him. you watch him as he stands poised just like the soldier he is, looking at you illuminated by nothing but candlelight. his gloved hands rest at his sides, but he squeezes them in and out of fists, clicking his tongue. you hear the leather of them move.
you have never spoken to him before. you've never heard him speak. you wonder if he really knows how to; you wonder if he has a voice or if he's been whittled down to nothing but the sounds that a loyal mutt makes. you know why he's here, you know why he's come. you can't tell him no, you don't think, but he doesn't move from his place, so you aren't completely sure of what he wants.
but you have an idea.
"y'abhor me," he says finally. he speaks. you swallow. at least he isn't stupid. it's rare that you see a brute with brains. although, with all the battles he has won, you know he doesn't lack intelligence. he is seasoned, worldly, knows how to convince the politicians and to rile up the uneducated men that kill for him. he must have a quick tongue and a strong vocabulary. a leader bred for killing, a man taught to know his audience and how to deliver a persuasive message.
but has he been taught to tame a cat? how to please a woman? how to love her, how to have her?
love. what a silly dream.
"not as much as i fear you," you admit. he hums, his eyes crinkling a little, as if he's smiling. you watch him carefully as he finally moves, rounding the bed before he stands in front of you.
"wot is it y'r afraid of?" he asks. his voice comes low, from the bottom of his chest. you tilt your head up to look at him.
"that you'll hurt me," you whisper. he shrugs, shaking his head.
"a beaten wife is no good t'me," he tells you, very matter-of-fact. "need strong heirs. which means i need y'fed and happy."
"i'll never be happy."
he grips your chin, shutting you up. a part of you wishes he would be meaner. that he would be the angry, possessive ghost that he truly is and show the kingdom that there is no part of him redeemable or salvageable. you want to sport his bruises and tell the queen he is an animal, but his touch is firm and nothing more. if anything, he's gentler than you expected him to be.
"we'll see about tha'."
your eyes water, and you stiffen at his touch.
"i know who you are," your voice cracks. "i know what you do. you're a pillager. you take women, and you kill men."
he tilts his head to the side, smoothing his thumb along your bottom lip. you aren't wrong. since he was small, most of what he has known has been the smell of blood in the air and the sound of screams when he shows up at their doors. he's never been particularly gentle when he ravages. he takes, takes, takes--it tastes good and strengthens his bones. it puts medals on his chest and pretty, thick women in his bed.
but you are no village in an unfortunate land. you are the gift that his king has given him. the forbidden treasure that he had his eye on since he saw you standing there beside his queen. poised, elegant, graceful, timid, untouched, perfectly soft. ghost has never known this kind of thing, and if you had been any other lady, he would have married you long ago, but he had to wait. he had to be patient, win and kill enough that his king could not refuse his request--no, his demand--to have you.
he did not do the king's bidding for the glory or for the honor. he did it so he could bite into you, so that even if you screamed, you belonged, and no one would care.
"just a matter of war, dear wife. they matter little," ghost mutters. "let me look at ya..." he tilts your head side to side, observing you. he guides his hand down your throat, arching you back so he could trace his fingers along the swell of your breasts. he hums with approval, reaching lower and squeezing the fat of one breast with one big hand. his eyes flash, and he fondles the other.
you are surprised by the sensation. no one has ever touched you this way before. it feels...good. his hands are warm, even under all of that leather, and you find yourself feeling rather sensitive. you lean back a little on the palms of your hands, looking down. you watch as he traces a finger around your nipple, and you bite your lip when it pebbles under his touch. he uses both hands now, cupping both of them, growling. ohhh--it feels so nice.
"gonna be so nice when they're full," he murmurs, mostly to himself. "all for our babe."
you don't know what comes over you. you don't know why you do it, but you do. you lift your hand, gripping the edge of the laces that tie the front of your dress closed, and you pull. the weight of your breasts unravel the ribbons, and ghost groans audibly when they spill out of your corset. there is a tickle that you feel, some sort of sick satisfaction, knowing that you've pleased him in some way.
"tha'sit...my beautiful bride..." he smacks his lips together under his mask, as if he's hungry, "tits of a fuckin' angel."
you squeeze your legs together. you know what it is to feel aroused, but this is different. you feel wet, so wet, as if it's wetting the skirt of your dress. you've never felt it this strong. you whimper a little, and he chuckles, so mean.
"y'like tha', my bride?" he asks. he reaches up and cups your cheek, bringing your soft eyes to his. the praise, it itches you nicely. "y'r m'prize, swee'eart. i killed over a thousand men, and y'are what m'reward is, did y'know tha'?" he hisses. "cut the heart out of a man's chest, like a fuckin' pig, just to 'ave this cunt."
why does it feel so good? why are you getting wetter and wetter, why are you whining, why are you giving into it? why do you want it so bad, why do you ache?
it hurts, it hurts--
"'s olright," he coos, so condescending. "shhhh..." he puts a palm on your chest and pushes, making you lay back. you swallow, letting him put a finger between the laces of your corset and tug. it barely budges, fastened so carefully, and you gasp sharply when he uses two big hands and grunts, ripping your corset apart. you hear the crack of the whale bone give away under the strength of him, and it's a reminder of just how dangerous he is, how strong, and you know when he looks between your thighs, he'll find you wet and needy and captivated.
the corset comes loose, and he tugs, taking your skirts with it until you're naked underneath him. you want to feel shame, but you can't. you're so desperate, for whatever he will give you, and instead of covering yourself, you let your knees fall open. the groan he lets out makes you leak even more, and he watches with awe as your puffy hole pulses. he moves to shove his trousers down, but you stop him, putting a hand on the chest of his leather armor.
"wait--" you meet his eyes. your eyes flutter. "b-but...but i want..."
he eyes you curiously, narrowing them.
"want wot?"
you swallow.
"i-i..." you reach down and slip your fingers gently through your folds. the squelch makes his eyes widen, and he's mesmerized by what he sees. "i want...your mouth..."
he snickers, "y'think a man will eat it so easy?" he raises a brow. "doesn't work tha' way. besides..." he shrugs. "i don't reveal m'face."
you sit up, blinking, smoothing your hands down his chest and tracing them along the hem of his trousers. his dark eyes follow you, and you realize he doesn't really say no. you need to remind him that you are not one of his men. you need to be kept happy, and he needs to give in, even if it hurts his fucking ego.
"please?" you whisper, taking his hand and putting it back on your face, kissing the palm of his glove. killed a thousand men to have me, so show me--show me, show me, show me. you nuzzle into it, giving him those eyes, and he stares for a long few moments. "please..."
he sinks to his knees almost immediately. his armor stretches a little, the leather and metal moving rigidly with him. your eyes widen a little at the position--the thing that he is knelt down in front of his wife, an act of submission.
"turn around," he snaps. "on y'r knees."
you do as he says. you turn on the bed, your face squished against the cushions, and he yanks you back by your hips. you fist the sheets, sucking in a shaky breath, and your eyes squeeze shut when he puts two hands on your ass and spreads you wide. he plants a kiss on your folds from over the mask, and then you hear the shuffle of fabric before his warm tongue prods at your entrance.
he eats slow at first. just drags his tongue through the slick there. he's exploring you, learning you. but then he is all-consuming. he hisses, gripping you by the thighs and suckling at your clit before tracing his name into the folds of your cunt. you can't help how wet you are--drooling, wetting his mask, crying so soft as he bobs his head and eats you, starving. he did not expect you to be so sweet, so soft. every part of you is soft, and he associates the taste of you with the sound of your pleasure, and it's like a trigger. his brain ticks just the right way when he hears you moan for the first time. not even battle quiets the tinnitus, but the ringing is nearly gone now.
he wonders if you're sent from heaven, even though he doesn't believe in it. but something had to have sent you, something had to have given you to him, because it's too much, it's too good, it's too real.
what he wants is in his hands, cumming on his tongue, crying because of his touch. too real, too real, too real.
he pulls away. he smacks his lips gently, smirking, and then he pulls his mask back down. he stands up straight, watching you, still on your knees, squirming. he tuts, turning you onto your back easily. you're languid and a little breathless, and you giggle a little when you realize how easy it is for him to manhandle you, for him to move you. you've never felt very small, but he doesn't even strain, not even a little.
he's so scary, it makes you sick, but you can make this your own--you could make him love you, couldn't you? someone this twisted, someone this insane, you could make him obsessed, you could drive him crazy, you could have the loyal dog you have always been yourself.
killed a thousand men to have me, so i'll put you on your fucking knees.
it's what you're owed. for all the years of serving, for all the years of submission and pain and kneeling and curtsying, you're allowed to have something, you can have something, even if it's this monster of a man. he may have paid for you, but you won't let a thousand men die for nothing.
you will make him love you. you will make him love you. you will make him love you.
you sit up, a bit dazed. you're swimming in your own head, a little insane from the orgasm. you know what a man like him wants. you have doted on men like him all your life. you know what it is that arrogant people crave, what it is they desire, the things that keep them up at night, you know because you've soothed those fears all your life.
you just need to know how to make him purr. you need to know what clears the thoughts in his head.
"my husband," you whisper, meeting his eyes, and there's a little twitch in his eyes. he likes that title. "i--"
"did y'like that, my bride?" he murmurs. "your husband's mouth on y'r cunt, 'n now y'r singin' for me, eh?"
you bat your lashes, sliding your hands up his forearms. you drag your fingers over the sleeves of his armor, whimpering. the smell of leather is overwhelming, but you suppose you must get used to it. you have a feeling you'll be polishing it for the rest of your life.
"i've always been...terrified of you," you whisper. "the way you come into court...the way you fight...seeing you in all those places, you have always scared me..." he hums, his eyes intrigued. he smooths his hands up your thighs, gripping onto your waist as he tugs you closer to him. "but, i..." you reach for his shoulders, pulling on him until he bends, leans over you, crowds your space and shadows you like the eclipse he truly is. "i-i want more..."
he chuckles, "i know y'do," he echos. "could see it in y'r eyes, darling girl," he sighs. "a pretty face like this one...wasted on her majesty."
"i don't think we're allowed to say that."
"i deliver entire countries at john's feet, i'll say wot i bloody please," he snaps. you just blink up at him, before smiling a little.
this disgusting, murderous, possessive, immoral, treacherous piece of shit that is your husband is really the most beautiful man you've ever set your eyes on. strong, resilient, unable to be killed, adored by his king and his men alike. he is everything a man is supposed to be, but nothing like how a gentleman should behave. he is built for war, built to take, so how can you get this nasty thing to love you?
ghost does not seem the kind of man to bend to the desires of ordinary men. he may want to fuck you, but he has self-control. he may enjoy the praise of his men, but he doesn't require it. he may ache for the soft press of a woman, but he is self-sufficient and easily deterred.
so you do what servant women do best. you appease, because at the end of the day, ghost is still a man, and men are all the same.
"a baby..." you whisper, holding onto the backs of his hands firmly. you dig your nails into the skin there, arching your back to get closer to him. he growls under the mask, metal biting into your soft skin as he grips you even tighter. "want a baby..."
he cackles, so mean, and he leans down to kiss along your ear, down your throat, biting at the supple skin through the mask. he's still got all of his armor on, he hasn't shed one lick of his gear, but you cling to it like a parasite. he is one with it, and you realize this now, his second skin made of durable steel and patent animal skin, singed at the edges. he's such a fine soldier, too strong for his own good, too rough around all his edges to be anything but a masochist, but he's yours. he belongs to you as much as you belong to him, and it isn't until he slides the warmth of his length through your folds that you realize this, too.
you reach up with trembling hands, high enough to cup his masked face. he flinches, nearly throwing you off, but you shush him gently, cooing softly as you nuzzle your nose against his.
"i'm sorry," you whisper there. it's so intimate, this position, and you know that he has never let anyone touch him this way by the feeling of his body under your hands, stiff and unable to move. you roll your hips gently, up against his, and you let out a soft keen at the squelch of your slick against his cock. "it's...it's everything i didn't know i wanted..."
he grunts, metal creaking as his nostrils flare.
"i don't understand," he murmurs. affection, it's so unfamiliar that it startles him. that someone can be kind to him, something other than a hard hand and an impossible order, it's not something he knows, and he's not sure how he feels about it. his instinct tells him to distance himself, but his cock guides him closer.
"you," you whine. "so big--" you reach down between your bodies, pumping his cock gently. your fingers barely meet around his girth, a true testament to his size, he lacks this largeness nowhere. "--there's nothing to be afraid of, is there?"
ghost snarls a little, gripping your thighs tight and securing them around his waist. you lock your ankles around his hips, pulling, and he hums as the head of his cock sinks into you easily.
"naughty lil' girl," he laughs, standing straight as his thighs meet your ass. you whine, your back bowing like a taut string, and he slides his tongue over his teeth with a menacing click. "not a virgin, are ya?"
"i-i am," you gasp, clawing at his forearms, and he hisses when you clench.
"mm. not a stranger t'this feelin' then, aye?"
you shake your head, and he nods, hoisting your legs up and over his shoulders as he gives you a firm thrust.
"good," he mutters. "don't much feel like pettin' ya."
and he doesn't. he's a menace. he snarls like a beast under his armor, his gloves squeezing your plush thighs as he pounds into you with no words to soften the blow. he isn't gentle by any means--he gives, and he expects you to take, and your legs shake as you try and crawl away from him. he doesn't let you--his fingers spread around your waist and he tugs, spearing you back onto his cock before he leans over you and starts putting his back into it.
despite the roughness, he looks down at you, eyes focused on yours, and he doesn't look away. your arms flail a little until you reach up and wrap them around his neck for stability, but it only draws his face close to yours. your hand falls to grip his jaw, and he leans into it just enough that you know you have him.
"you'll make such a good little babe," he grunts, groaning when you tighten just that much. he's securing his place, making room inside of you so you can take even more. "cunt was made to bear m'children, m'lady..."
"that so?" you squeak, and he smiles under the mask--you're falling apart on his cock, a good girl, just for him, just like you always are. "have to finish what you started for that to happen, don't you?"
"fuckin' brat--" ghost snaps, but he presses his face to yours, needing to be closer, needing to have you, needing to make you his from the inside-out. a ring is not enough, no, he has to bind you to him forever by making you bear his kin. he will give you many, he's going to keep you fat and beautiful and pregnant, and his children will know that their father hungered for their mother so much that he destroyed a generation of men to covet one of his own.
ghost has known since the first moment he laid his eyes on you that you would be it. you had to be his wife, no one else would suffice, because no one else could bear the weight of his name the way you would be able to. no one else would be able to carry his babies without dying, no one else could make the sun fall and the moon rise and the fire wane just long enough for him to feel human again, no one.
you start to think the same. you've never felt this way, so out of your body and so aware of it all at once. you're floating--you're somewhere else, you think. there's a pleasure so searing, that you can barely breathe. his cock is deep, touching places inside of you your fingers could never dream to reach, and there's a place that he touches sometimes that makes your eyes blur and your mouth make the most pathetic whining sound. you're crying, begging, asking him for more, please--! nnghh--please!
he's never had a woman so wet. he has always had them for his own pleasure. he has never paid attention to what they feel or tried to make it nice for anyone but himself, but he knows he will never want it the same ever again. there's something so satisfying about the heavy plat, plat, plat that his cock makes every time his hips meet yours. he can feel his trousers sticking to his thick thighs, knows that there must be some thick, creamy slick coating his length and sticking to your skin that he suddenly wants to scoop up with his tongue and savor the tang of his bride, his wife, his pretty, pretty girl--tha's it, just right, like tha'--
"i...i-i--!" it's more intense than you've ever felt it. a crescendo of pleasure that is starting to grow in your belly, an unwavering warmth that he keeps flooding you with, so good that you can't stop crying for it. you're sputtering, drooling, clawing at the hood around his back because it's so fucking close, it's right there, it's mine, you're mine, mine, mine--
"fuckin' hell--" ghost groans, cradling your head against his chest as he stills his hips against yours and fills you nice and warm. you go cross-eyed, you think, shaking as you latch your mouth onto his masked jaw and suck. you need to put your mouth around something, need to fill it with the taste of him. he doesn't move, body heavy and suffocating over you, but you don't tell him to move and make no effort to push him off.
you think you want this. you think you want him to keep you here, just like this, underneath him, full of him, drooling from more than just your mouth from a fucking too good and the promise of something more.
he moves to take a seat on the bed, and you chase after him. you keep your arms around his neck, shuffle into his lap, and he chuckles under his breath as he wraps one big arm around you and tugs you close to him.
maybe it isn't so bad to be bound to someone like this. maybe it isn't so bad to belong, maybe it isn't so bad to be wanted this way, maybe it isn't the most unfortunate thing to not have the autonomy of yourself anymore in favor of being this thing's wife.
you slide your hand down his chest before smoothing it over one masked cheek. his eyes close for a moment, and he leans into it for just long enough that you recognize the gesture as one of need. ghost aches, too--maybe not for the same thing you ache for, but he aches, and maybe it's for this.
something gentle. something soft. something to bury himself into because the flames have burnt too hot for too long, and the voices in his head give him no reprieve. his hands are too dirty, too unclean, and you think maybe that's why he doesn't take his gloves off anymore--there is no cleaning agent enough for the blood caked under his fingernails.
he's more human this way. less beast, more man, but you see that flicker of humanity disappear entirely when he sees the trickle of his cum slipping onto the fine sheets of your bed.
what a waste. what a loss. he has to fuck you again.
he will never be bored of me, i don't think. ghost will want me forever--even when we are dead, because he cannot die, because he's already rotting inside.
you don't seem to mind your new position. no kneeling, no curtsying--your duty is on your back and on your side and on your stomach, presented for your husband, just for his pleasure, just for your own.
in all your life, you have never wanted this. you endured the burden of serving because you were at least needed this way. marriage to you looked akin to death; when the veils fell over girl's faces, you never saw them again. they would be confined to their houses, made to spread their legs, forced to carry children they didn't want and die the slow death of giving their husbands everything they wanted while their dreams were buried alongside them.
your dream is freedom. it always has been. your dream is to do as you please, to go where you want to go, to say the things you want to say. there is an understanding here that you have, an opportunity that you could not see before. before you had ghost, you saw him as the thing in your way. he was the quicksand that would pull you under, the tide that sunk the earth, the dog that guarded his bone. but you know now, you understand, that ghost doesn't have to be the wall in your way.
he is more animal than man, and in that fact alone, you feel power in your toes and something hungry knocking at the bone of your ribs, just waiting to come out.
ghost will hold the sword. and you will hold the leash.
Fancy Masterlist
ongoing
A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life. Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate.
Ao3
Ch. 1: Here’s Your One Chance
Ch. 2: Just Be Nice to the Gentlemen, Fancy
Ch. 3: The Wheels of Fate Started to Turn
Ch. 4: Black Out Days
Ch. 5: