Tumgik
#miss is scary as fuck and i love that for her so much <3
illicitghoul · 2 days
Text
you’re instagram if you were in the BAU (p2)
prt 2 that nobody asked for 🥱 (this is so fun)
part 1 (linked below)
————————————————————————————
yourusername
Tumblr media
liked by jen.jj45 and 46 others
yourusername JJ LOVE CLUB (i am also in jj love club but they all voted me to take the photo 💔)
pennycia and you did a great job 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩
yourusername i love you pen 💌
pennycia I LOVE YOU MOST Y/N
derek.m0rg4n @spencer.re1d i love you
spencer.re1d Stop lying for social media clout
derek.m0rg4n fuck you AND your fuck ass haircut
prentiss.em LMFAO
prentiss.em we are such cuties some ppl wish they were us 🥱
yourusername @prentiss.em real asf
yourusername
Tumblr media
liked by elliegreenaway & others
yourusername me and spence were conjoined jellyfish in another life
spencer.re1d Can we be anglerfish
yourusername no? wtf is wrong with you
spencer.re1d 🥱🥱🥱🥱BORING
r0ssi81 that is a very interesting photo
yourusername YOU KNOW HOW TO COMMENT?
r0ssi81 you’re pushing it girl genius
yourusername you’re pushing something…
r0ssi81 when i find out how to block someone you are gone y/n
prentiss.em this is quite cute y/l/n 😭
yourusername you’re quite cute 🤫
prentiss.em send me toe pictures 😂😂😂😂
yourusername NO EMILY!!!!!!!!! (ill email them)
yourusername
Tumblr media
liked by spencer.re1d and 51 others
yourusername my cute glowing girlfriend (idk who that random man is 🤷‍♀️ kinda scary)
prentiss.em yeah that is really weird 🥱 anyway i love u wifey mwah mwah
yourusername ugh ily lets go frolic in a field or smth
spencer.re1d Yeah that is really scary - be careful guys
spencer.re1d OH MY I LOOK LIKE A GHOST 😁😁
jen.jj45 it’s like i can still hear his voice…
yourusername :( i miss his cute smile
prentiss.em 🎉
spencer.re1d @prentiss.em You aren’t funny
pennycia 😭😭😭😭
prentiss.em ok comedy police spencer reid????
jen.jj45 shes like an angel !!!!!!
prentiss.em I LOVE YOU JENNIFER 🙁🙁
yourusername
Tumblr media
liked by aaron.hotchner and 37 others
yourusername i said serve and they devoured
spencer.re1d Slay !
prentiss.em y/n meant to say i devoured and you kind of chewed…
spencer.re1d Can you stop harassing me?
prentiss.em i kiss your girlfriend on days that end in y
yourusername TRUTH 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩
pennycia what cuties!!! seeing their smiles makes me so happy!!!!!!
spencer.re1d You’re my best friend
derek.m0rg4n everytime you speak it breaks my heart
jen.jj45 HAHAAH WHAT
pennycia CRYING
yourusername
Tumblr media
liked by elliegreenaway and 43 others
yourusername my bag broke before i left spences 🙁
spencer.re1d Sigh…. the theory for a broken bag means you have to stay where it broke 🤷‍♂️ i dont know i just heard that
derek.m0rg4n my bag broke in your heart… why won’t you let me stay
yourusername you ate with that one derek
yourusername broke bag mountain
elliegreenaway @yourusername LMFAO
pennycia i’ll fix it for you!!! come over girlie!!!
yourusername omw!!!!!
yourusername
Tumblr media
liked by derek.m0rg4n and 49 others
yourusername day out with my four wives
pen : fanny pack with snacks and a book
jj : losing her mind (too warm)
em : complaining 🥱
me : having a good time :)
aaron.hotchner I hope you all worn sunscreen
yourusername yes 🫡
prentiss.em 🥱
pennycia i had a great day!!! (i read 3 pages)
jen.jj45 i am LOSING it the HEAT i am gonna COMBUST
derek.m0rg4n @spencer.re1d @aaron.hotchner @r0ssi81 could be us
r0ssi81 I am busy for the foreseeable future
dreak.m0rgan @spencer.re1d @aaron.hotcher
at least rossi replied…
145 notes · View notes
magnetosfavorite · 3 days
Text
here's a snippet of the cherik dads (and then there's you) sequel idk if i'll ever post <3
(they had another baby! it's david! hurt/comfort! love! nina is about 3 here.)
Charles wants to weep when Erik comes in the door, Nina propped on his hip. He still feels so fucking weird, emotions everywhere, freezing cold from the analgesia, head fuzzy from the pain meds. They’ve taken David to the NICU, because he was too early, and he’ll get to come back for skin-to-skin time later, but Charles is so muddled and doesn’t know when later is. God, it’s so good to see them.
“See?” Erik says, rubbing her little back with one big hand. “Daddy’s okay. He’s right here.”
“Hi, Neens,” Charles says, swallowing the thickness in his throat.
She turns her head into Erik’s neck, holding onto him tighter. Erik frowns down at her, then at Charles.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Erik asks, voice low. He crosses the room, sitting in the chair at Charles’s bedside. She doesn't look up the whole time.
Nina lets out an aggravated sob, and Charles has to stop himself from ordering Erik to hand her over. “Daddy,” she whimpers, but she keeps clinging onto Erik.
“Don’t you want to see him?” Erik says gently. He’s such a good father, so patient. It’s started up the tears again, and poor Erik shifts Nina to one arm so he can hold Charles’s hand. Charles squeezes, letting it anchor him.
They can’t both cry, so he gets it together while Nina starts properly sniffling.
She was so excited to see you, I promise, Erik nudges into his mind. Charles thinks if he tries to respond, he might give Erik amnesia or something. Instead, he gives him a tight smile.
“I’m okay, bug,” he tries.
She manages a tearful look at him, all big eyes. Her cheeks are bright red. “Daddy,” she mumbles mournfully.
“There’s my girl.” Charles isn’t sure how long he can stand it, not being able to soothe her. “It’s a bit scary at the hospital, yeah?” She peeks at him a little more directly, so he keeps going. His head is still swimming, but Erik’s rubbing his thumb over his knuckles, and he can comfort his baby on autopilot at this point. “If you get too scared, Papa can take you home, okay?”
She shakes her head, scrunching up her face like she’s going to cry again. Charles rushes to add, “You can stay, baby, of course you can. My brave girl.”
Finally, finally, she reaches out for him. “I don’t think–” Erik starts to say, but Charles admonishes him quickly.
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Erik looks dubious, but he stands up and hands her to Charles, who tucks her against his chest carefully. Her face is wet and snotty and hot, and she holds on tight and mashes it against his throat. He squeezes her tight, ignoring the leaden feeling in his arms. “Hi, love, I missed you so much,” he whispers into her hair.
“Daddy,” she hiccups. He can tell as he rubs her back that she’s starting to fizzle out. “Missed you.”
Chest aching, Charles kisses the top of her head. “I’ll be home soon, okay? I’m just a little poorly. The doctor will fix it.” He knows she’s not going to like that answer, but she wants comfort and sleep more than she wants to pitch another fit. He just keeps holding her, carefully away from where he’s sore. They’ll be a family of four when they go home, but right now it’s him and his best girl and the comforting knowledge that Erik’s here.
Erik’s in his mind, too, just faintly, fond and loving and a bit awed, which Charles doesn’t really understand.
When Nina falls asleep, Charles just about does too.
“I’m gonna let my mom have her one more night,” Erik says quietly, somewhere at his side. “I want to be here, since you can’t go down to see David yet.”
Charles lets him extract Nina, as much as it makes him want to cry again. He wants his babies, both of them, here.
Erik appears again after a moment, though, and sits beside him carefully. “If you rest, you’ll be able to see them soon,” he says, leaning down to kiss his temple. He’s not sure if he’s leaking emotions or if Erik just knows him. “Everything’s alright. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
“Can you just—” His tongue is getting thick, but Erik understands, sitting next to him and stroking his hair. Charles registers that he’s probably going to sleep at the hospital, too. Maybe he should feel guilty, but. The feeling of safety blankets him instead.
“There you are,” Erik murmurs, scratching his scalp. “Just rest. You’re so good.”
It works, because it’s Erik, and they’re together, and that means it’s going to be alright.
22 notes · View notes
ivypond11 · 10 months
Text
it's been a week and i still haven't recovered </3 so i did a little sketch with this scene between normal and scary because it fucked me up and i need more moments of them comforting and caring for each other
Tumblr media
706 notes · View notes
unluckyprime · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
GOD YOU GUYS . WHAT AN EPISODE !!!!!
1K notes · View notes
catboybrain · 4 months
Text
sniffles sadly. every day im so sad that fnaf didnt go with placing vanny into aftons role.... god forbid women do anything ! ! !
#just saw gtlive finish the first ending n like. urgh#maybe if i liked eclipse more i wouldnt mind how prevalent they r but woof man#like i get it its charlie and evil baby or whatever in the same body but come onnnnn#that and the candy cadet stories just bashing the same kid going into woods framework into the ground#i miss when it was like. this dude sewed 5 kittens together! this lady melted 7 keys! stuff like that yk that was different and scarier#i do rlly think the series is going toward this like polished marketable thing instead of the grimy sludge i liked .... </3 and the AI stuf#is sooooo boring like fuuuuck its so boring. i wouldnt mind if its charliebots bc at least theyre interesting !!!!#but mimic as the new villian? bro. dude. thats so boring come on... afton was interesting bc he was fucked up severly#and robots r just like. theyre just robots dude its not even scary its just a thing being programmed smh#without the afton behind it its kinda just ..... bleh#honestly i wish they would cap the story? like make vanny take aftons role; do some shit; end it in a tragic but cathartic way#and then if they want to make more games do either other families in universe (like fazbear frights) or prequels/ world building shit like#something set in circus babys pizza world or w/e .i mean you could argue its about cassie now but if her dad is bonnie bro we're still stuc#in the afton central place. and i dont like that hteyre moving on without wrapping up the 102938120 loose ends they already made URGH ! !#is it too much to ask for a fnaf game thats crusty round the edges and really metaphorical for theorists to dig into but logical enough it#can be solved and also creates a good plotline . yeah i guess hell will freeze over before that#d.txt#sorry im sooooo normal about fnaf <- is abnormal. fuhnaffs theories r GREAT thoguh i love that guy he makes me happy about the franchise :o
6 notes · View notes
hazelfoureyes · 2 months
Text
The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 3)
I deadass wrote part one as a one shot. Is this what peer pressure is? I love it.
It would have been easy to forget you, your soul was his anyways so the real fun had already finished. But that pesky video hit most streamed in 24 hours, he couldn’t even walk to the butcher without hearing you scream his name from errant phones. Surely there was a way, even from hell, to finish what he started and get you out of his system.
⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣
tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x reader, smut, soft Alastor, unprotected sex (duh?), creampie, edging a little, feelings, Valentino exists, Vox also exists, literally wrote this split screen with part 2 on the right side so I could line it up right like he does hehe, Alastor has a bad time
tag requested: @astraechos , @thekanrojimitsuri2 , @hoeforalbedo , @crazylazybabyk , @oddball08 , @lovingyeet , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @random-3455 , @alicehasdrowned , @des-deswain5621 , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @doctorswife221b
When Val released, ‘The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice’, it immediately went viral. The website crashed, downloads surpassed his wildest, horniest dreams.
It’s scary but also hot? ☆☆☆☆☆
Eat me Mr. Radio Demon!
I’ve never wanted to be a pussy so much in my life.
The reviews were all favorable, the comments rolling in, it was perfect.
Until Vox said it wasn’t. He had seen the video, but figured no one would care about seeing Alastor fuck anything. It wasn’t the success that got under his skin, it was the wave of positive attention it brought Alastor. Suddenly everyone was tuning in to his broadcasts, little miss princess’s hotel was busier than ever.
And it was ubiquitous. Every screen seemed to feature Alastor’s breakout role.
“I said pull it, Val!” Vox slammed his hands on Valentino’s coffee table.
“Vox, baby, you’re being really sensitive about this. I’m literally fucking piles of money right now. Actual piles of money, like, person sized piles.” Val took a drag of his cigarette, “Its good for business.”
“Would you rather fuck money, or me?” Vox’s screen glitched.
Val leaned his elbows on his knees, “That’s a really difficult question for me and I think you know that.”
“Augh! Val! Think of the big picture! That obsolete dickhead gaining attention means gaining power. And that’s bad for business.”
Val’s eyes fluttered, “What if we like, say it wasn’t him?”
Flashes of Alastor’s face fazed in and out of focus across Vox’s screen, your body flipping over, a mess of tentacles writhing.
Val took off his glasses, “Oh yeah, that’s pretty obviously him.”
“What is?” Vox’s face splintered back to the screen.
“Do you—- do you not know you’ve been like,” Val used his cigarette to gesture at Vox’s face, “just straight up playing his porno?”
Vox’s hands flew to his screen, “No! Fucking shit! What the fuck!!” He picked up a vase and threw it across the room, “Wipe it clean off the server! Delete it! Ban it’s fucking streaming! End of discussion!”
Val shrugged, he owned every bootleg distributor in the pride ring. He’d pull it and up the price threefold for illegal downloads. “Whatever you want, amorcito.”
Alastor was quite happy the video went ‘underground’ of sorts. The first month after you left, he was plagued by the sound of your voice. Everywhere he went it seemed you were screaming his name, every phone and television a conduit for you.
What really bothered him though, was the reaction others had to him. Where once sinners leapt from his path and set theirselves on fire to avoid him, now people winked and waved. It made his skin crawl. When alive, at the peak of his radio show fame, it wasn’t uncommon to have fans approach him in jazz clubs. But the decorum of 1930's jazz fans was a far cry from the brazen displays of desire from the citizens of hell.
“Perhaps I should have thought it through?” He mused.
“Ya think?” Rosie put her tea down, “Was it worth it, at least?”
He mulled the question over. Worth it? Well, he had your soul. Which is grand. But you weren’t even in hell to be called upon. What did he really get from the deal? Alastor brought his palm to his face, already feeling the blush spreading. Rosie's chuckle didn't help. He did get something. You'd been gone a month, and each day he woke up having forgot you existed. And every night he lied down to rest and imagined your eyes staring back at him. Did he want to fight you, or surrender, when he saw that look? When the silk tie had fallen from your face, slipping down your nose to reveal your intense stare...He thought his heart had stopped. For every ounce of resilience in your voice he found a pound of fury in your gaze. What poor luck Valentino had been given to receive you as an offering.
"Too soon to tell." He leaned back, finally dropping his hand.
“Well it seemed you had a good time… not that I could see much through the green glow and all that static noise. Really spoiled the climax with that move, Alastor dear."
Alastor’s eyes were saucers, “Rosie. Are you implying-,”
“What?” She drew out the word, “I thought you weren’t into those things so of course I was curious!”
He sighed, “I’m not.”
Rosie pushed the teaspoon around her cup with one finger, “Sure looked like you were.”
He crossed his arms, indignant, “You don’t have to have an appetite to enjoy a meal.”
“Message received loud and clear dear! I won’t bring up the subject again.” She cackled and changed the topic to the latest gossip around the colony.
Another night staring at the ceiling, mind ghosting over the idea of you. He felt like he his sanity was unraveling Leaving his bed, he stepped barefoot onto the grass of the swampy forest he materialized into his room when he moved in to the hotel.
With an outstretched hand, Alastor felt for your connection. He couldn’t see it, but the weight of the chain connecting your soul to him sunk into his palm. Curious, he wrapped his fingers around the invisible links and pulled.
With a soft green glow, you rose from the grass.
His breath hitched, he hadn’t expected that. “It seems our deal really did stick, didn't it?" walking towards you, Alastor dropped to his knees at your feet. You were on your side, unmoving.
His head cocked to the left, ears turned in. Alastor crawled toward you, rolling you onto your back and opening your legs. He slotted himself there, “Hellooo,” He took your face in his both of his hands, elbows resting beside your ears, “Are you… sleeping, dear?”
This is ridiculous.
Alastor inspected your face; peaceful. It was a new sight for him, he'd really only ever seen you in some kind of rage or lost in pleasure. His hand slid down your body, realizing you were in the robe still. He laughed, but realized it was for no one. "Are you really going to sleep, hmm?" He hooked his hands under your knee and brought it up around his hip.
Nothing.
"I'm starting to get offended, dear." He leaned down and whispered into the crook of your neck. "If you don't wake up-" He slid down, the robe open enough to let his breathe ghost over your stomach. He stopped. He couldn't do anything to you while you slept. It was void of any enjoyment for him. Without your reactions, it was just....pointless. While he did enjoy your performance in the studio, he was taught to show respect for those of fairer means. A sleeping partner fell into that category.
He reached beneath you and straightened your robe that had bunched there under your body. Placing your leg back down by your ankle, he began pulling the collar up and closed it snuggly.
He stood there for a second, looking over you. It worked. You're here again. His mother had taught him that the human soul was most vulnerable at night. When asleep, the soul could wander from the body and travel earth and beyond. She even said people could train themselves, and with practice, remember their journeys even after waking.
Kneeling down, Alastor pushed your hair from your face, "Don't forget. What fun is there in that?" The shadow beneath your body shimmered neon green before you were swallowed by inky darkness and Alastor was once again, alone.
After his mother died, Alastor was often alone. Most of his time, really. Well, there were people always around. But they were staff, or hangers-on, or women looking for a comfortable life. They were dancers and bootleggers and musicians. Which was fine and grand. But, they never saw him. He never let them, they never tried. He was the radio host. The great dancer. The southern gentleman. The killer. The cannibal. The deer in the woods. Not a single person ever looked at him on earth and saw him. Which was precisely what he wanted, and manufactured with his wide smile and good manners.
So when your eyes bore into him from that tacky studio set, and he felt suddenly naked in front of you, he knew you were looking at the him. You saw him.
It was worth it. Alastor was willing to admit that to himself.
Over the next couple days, he would randomly try to pull you to him. Through out the day, in different places, he would summon your soul and wait. Nothing. It confirmed his theory, your soul was only able to leave your living body while you were asleep.
In the privacy of his room, Alastor paced the space between grass and carpet. What was this feeling? Nerves? He hadn't felt nervous since he was a child.
But, what was causing him a pause, was if he summoned you and you didn't appear. Maybe it had been a fluke? Maybe for the 7th time in 3 days he would pull on that connection and be left standing there, alone.
Still.
He ran his hands through his hair, trying to regain composure. Finally, he reached out for your ties to him, and pulled you into hell.
He held his breath, unconsciously.
With a glow, you appeared again before him. He was quick this time to approach you, setting beside you and leaning close to your face. Asleep.
"Is this my foreseeable future?" He asked, "Staring at you while you sleep, my doe."
Suddenly, you opened your eyes and met his. Reaching up, you grabbed him with both hands and pulled his face into yours. Your hands ran through his hair as you took him in a frenzied kiss. Alastor froze for a beat, but when your tongue licked at his bottom lip, he was brought back to the moment. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, rolling over yours and reaching as deep as he could. He felt like he could unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole. He really could, if he wanted to.
Alastor swung his leg over your body and straddled your hips. "Mon cher, you've finally joined me." His chest was rising and falling with excited breath.
"Alastor?" You tried to feel your body, but it was nowhere near you.
"Don't worry your pretty little head. You're still alive and well. I've merely borrowed your soul for the evening." He looked down at you, and finally, for the first time in what felt like months, your eyes fell to his face.
But today, they were soft and out of focus.
"Can you see me, my dear?" He leaned down slightly, trying to read the look on your face.
"Am I dreaming?"
He chuckled, "Perhaps we both are." With an exhale he wondered if he had been holding his breath this entire time. "No, this isn't a dream."
"I don't understand...but--," You lifted your arms towards him, "Should I say thank you? It was fucked, what happened." Your voice was slow, words a little slurred, "But, I'm home safe and sound now. You did what you promised me. I don't know if I'll ever see you again so...should I thank you now?"
Your tongue felt fat in your mouth, heavy and delayed.
Alastor leaned down over you, "You don't have to say anything." He used his knees to open your legs, and settled there. "Unfortunately, you've become a little worm in my mind." His hands slid under the silk robe you hadn't stopped wearing yet, "I'm hoping if I finally have you, I can...whet my appetite, and return to my normal self." He felt along your hips, hands stopping when he realized you were naked under the thin piece of fabric.
"I keep remembering," you covered your eyes with your hands, "that big hand of yours. And I realize, you never touched me past that."
He smiled, genuinely, truly, "Exactly! You understand the problem precisely. Shall we both have our fill and be done with it?"
You moved your hands to touch his ears, waiting for him to disappear at any moment, "Please. I'm so tired of missing someone I don't even know." He removed your hands, and you held them to your chest.
"My thoughts exactly, mon cher." He adjusted his hips, letting his crotch rub against your core. This was the closest he had been to you since you'd met. It was dizzying, and it felt like his skin was vibrating everywhere it met yours.
A soft moan left your throat, causing his cock to twitch in his pants. Yes, it was you. This wasn’t his standard response to such sounds. Alastor sat up, his legs bent and knees at either side of your hips. Taking one of your hands from your chest, he placed a kiss on a digit. Then another. He kissed his way down your arm.
“So gentle. Weird.” You tried to focus on him, but your mind was still cloudy. The sensations were here but also so far away, too far away, in another lifetime all together.
“Was I not gentle before, all things considered?,” he continued his way down your arm.
You let your eyes drift to the sky, stars watching you from above, “More than him.”
His mouth went dry at the mention of Val, "I am many things more than him, darling." As his lips found your neck, he took a deep breath. "I can actually take my time now. No audience." He sucked a bruise, and released you with a pop. He presented two fingers to your lips, and without thinking about it you began to suck them. While you were slipping your tongue over and between his fingers, he moved to continue a trail of kisses and nips down your right arm.
"Get them nice and wet." He watched through half lidded eyes as you licked his long fingers. He knew he needed to remove his hips from yours, but the idea pained him. Finally, he took his fingers from you and swiped them over your entrance. Your chest jumped, so he did it again. He tried to push the fingers into you, but the resistance was more than he expected. You were wet, but tight. He let his middle finger slip inside you. So soft. So warm. His shadow tendrils allowed him some feeling but not this, this was something they kept to themselves.
"When was your last time, mon cher?"
Your mind searched for memories still left behind in your body somewhere, "In hell."
"You're in hell now."
"This doesn't feel like hell." You ground your hips onto his palm, trying to get that single digit slowly moving in you to come deeper, to become more. He replied by pushing in his pointer finger, erection becoming painful already as you let out a little moan. Bending them up, he began to make long thrusts past your g-spot. His mouth long stilled on your arm, staring at your face as you whimpered into the sky.
"Look at me."
Your eyes darted to him, half open and wet. Alastor felt his patience snap. Undoing his belt and zipper, he finally freed his cock. He ran his head between your entrance to your clit , gathering your fluids on him to ease his entry. Taking both of your legs, he held them at the ankles and set them on his left shoulder. With your hips slightly raised, he pressed into you.
With a hiss you dug your fingers into the dirt, body tensing instinctively. One of his arms hugged your legs to his chest, the other was now bruising your hips as he continued to push into you. With just his head in, he began fast and shallow thrusts. Every time making more progress into your warmth. The stretch burned, but the feeling of him forcing space into you for himself just made you wetter.
Finally, he bottomed out. He had no sense to still himself, shallow thrusts gave way to long, deep plunges. Alastor's breathing was filling the space around you, mixing with your own. Leaning back, he looked down at where you two were connected.
He withdrew slowly, nearly entirely, and pushed back in. Again. And again. It was intoxicating, how he felt himself melt into you. He'd had lovers in life, but never had he been with someone without a barrier of some sorts. Be that his well placed smile or latex. He'd never fucked anyone raw before. He almost regretted not trying earlier, as the sensation of your walls and arousal sticking to his cock and thighs was breaking him. Watching himself entirely disappear inside you, he closed his eyes. Everything was so hot, so tight, would he disappear entirely? Would he lost in the pleasure your body was so effortlessly giving? Was he the unlucky one?
Alastor pushed your knees up to your chest, using his body weight to hold them down as his paced picked up. You brought your dirtied nails to your own legs, holding on tightly. Desperately you needed something to tether you to the ground, keep you still against the twitches shaking your stomach and chest. You felt with any jolt to your nerves you'd fall off the world and drift into the night.
He felt the build up, his balls tightening and drawing in, he wanted to slow down-- he wanted to bring you there first but he couldn't stop the rutting of his hips. With a whine, Alastor's forehead came to rest on yours, hips smacking into you with a wet slap. "Look at me," He commanded again, and you obeyed. One of his hands came to your chin to hold your head still, "Don't you dare look away."
Struggling to keep your eyes open, he pushed into you with one final, deep thrust. His hands came down now to the ground around you as he pushed you into the grass. Hips stuttering, cock twitching in you. You'd never let anyone cum inside you before, the sensation of heat quickly filling your cunt made you tighten around him. "Good girl", He purred, jaw tight.
He pulled back slowly before bringing his hips down, sweat sticking to his forehead where it met yours. His pace was quickly becoming brutal, a hand finding its way to that little bud of nerves of yours. With rough pressure and hurried speed his thumb drew out your orgasm. When you came, you gasped out his name, craning your neck up to ghost your lips over his open mouth. As the pleasure surged from your center, you could feel your body again. He tried to keep his eyes on your eyes, but the overstimulation of your cunt trying to wring him dry forced him to shut them.
A light shone through his eyelids, startling them open again.
"Wait-!" He watched you get pulled away from beneath him. Before he could react, Alastor was on all fours in the forest, alone. Eyes wide, he pounded his fist against the grass. He tried to summon you back to him, to drag you to him but nothing happened.
He thought he'd gone crazy. Hands came to his head, smile pained as he tried to process what he was feeling.
No.
Not enough.
Too soon.
A growl ripped through his chest. This hadn't satiated him at all. No, he was worse off now. He was starved, he had nourishment ripped from his mouth and he as angry for it. Angry to hell, to Valentino, to the conditions of owning a living soul.
He did not even attempt to rest that night. Taking his time, he had to find composure again. Alastor managed to pull himself together after several hours of self isolation. After his heart stopped racing, after his hands stopped feeling phantom skin beneath them, he calmed his smile and went about his day.
When night returned, he couldn't help but stare into the forest domain. He wanted so badly to bring you to himself, but that want was terrifying. It was overpowering him, and he couldn't accept that.
Another night left, another day passed. Husk found Alastor's cruelty to be growing, his patience giving out at the smallest perceived slight. Angel stopped engaging entirely. Charlie found herself wanting to approach him, find out why it seemed his hair was always standing on end, his eyes sharp. But, she didn't. She couldn't. Alastor would pass through the halls like a raging specter. He wouldn't slow or acknowledge anyone.
He managed a week. Satisfied with his resolve, he waited for when night fell and he was sure you'd be deep asleep, yanked your soul from your body and into him. He felt rabid, like he his brain was catching fire. Finally when you materialized before him, he grabbed your face with his hand.
"My doe?"
Just like before, you stirred, and your hands immediately went for his hair. He pulled back, "Are you awake?"
"Am I dreaming? Alastor?" You looked drunk, mind struggling to process the change in scenery. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he hovered above you, and you pulled him into a kiss. He happily returned it, hands quick to untie the robe you had taken as your own. He wasted now time in getting himself unsheathed and lined up with you, before he could enter you reached out to him, "I wanted to say--- thank you. I don't know if I'll ever really see you again."
The realization made his blood run cold. His mother's stories flooded back to him. It takes training, and time, to remember the travels of the wandering soul.
"You don't have to say anything." Alastor thrust into you, your body tense but not as resistant as before. When he was finally enveloped in you, he could feel himself calm. He didn't feel any need to be gentle this time around. He immediately set a bruising pace, digging his nails into the soft flesh of your ass as he forced your hips to meet his with every thrust. You gasped beneath him, eyes wandering up to the sky just past his head. He'd bring you to climax, wanting to drink in your expression, and to his horror as you choked out his name you were spirited away from him again.
Everyone on the floor heard Alastor's rampage. When Angel ran to get Charlie and Vaggie, they were scared to knock. With a steadying breath Charlie rapped the door, "Al? You okay in there?"
Suddenly, silence.
The door whipped open, Alastor smiling with half lidded eyes, "Why of course. What ever made you think otherwise?"
"The fuckin' sounds of carnage, maybe?" Angel looked past Alastor. The sofa shredded, coffee table in pieces. The wallpaper had been ripped down and torn to shreds. Charlie noticed the dirt under his nails, but Alastor coolly pulled his hands behind his back.
"Can I do something for you?" His tone was cold.
"I guess not, Al...," Charlie took in the damage, "Did something happen?"
Alastor smiled wider, "No," and closed the door. No one saw him the following day, which wasn't entirely unusual but it was weighing on Charlie. When Alastor finally appeared and announced he was going to Cannibal Town, she was elated. A chat with Rosie would surely bring him back to himself.
"I don't see the problem. You've got her soul, you can summon her to you, and you get a little," She searched for the word, "relief. Why do you look so pained, old friend?"
"You know better than most I have no interest in chasing women, Rosie."
"Yet..." She cocked her brow.
"It isn't about the release. I don't particularly need that. I never have." He huffed, the conversation already exhausting him, "When I would kill someone, I was God. Their life was in my hands. I took that power from them."
Rosie clicked her tongue, "And when she's in your hands?" Alastor hunched over his black coffee before remembering himself and straightening his back. "I've never seen you like this before, hun. You've got it bad, huh?"
"Personal connections like this, Rosie, are dangerous. I lost my self restraint entirely. It's a weakness." He fought to regain his smile, never knowing who could be passing by.
She tutted him, "Oh no, that's where you're wrong. The difference between a strong man and an unstoppable man is having something to care about." Rosie leaned over and set her hand on top of his, "Imagine you walked into Val's studio right now and found her like you did a couple months ago. How would you react?"
His stomach wretched forward, if he saw you today, hanging from the ceiling? The stench of Valentino's cigarette smoke clinging to your hair, the marks where his hands had made contact with you? His hand under her's tightened, claws leaving marks into the wooden tabletop. "Do you feel weak right now, Alastor?" The hair on his ears was standing straight up, his now black eyes met hers, "You sure don't look it."
He’d remembered hearing something similar before from Vaggie. Could it be true? It was a precarious ladder. If he let himself be close to someone, then the person is in turn close to him, then that person knows him intimately, and then— they are a walking soft spot. Someone could take them and torture them for information. Or, hurt them to hurt him.
But, who would dare? A fire rose in chest at the thought. What was the point of power if he couldn’t have what he wanted? If he had to answer to others about his desires? To pursue strength and status was what he wanted but if that strength didn’t afford him freedom than what good was it, really?
"I say, not that you asked," Rosie smiled and withdrew her hand, "Could be nice to have a little company now and then. Plus, better than waiting 60 years or something for her to just die." She shrugged, "Now, eat. You look like a shit."
Rosie had a point, while your existence was fragile, it was still available to him.
For awhile, he would call you nightly. Alastor would fuck you into the grass, beneath the trees, under the stars. He learned your orgasm would wake you, and he would draw it out as long as he could. He'd edge you for hours, watching you sob for your release. Slowly, your consciousness became more and more solid during your meetings.
To his relief, his hunger for your presence calmed over time. He could handle a week or even two without sharing your company, and he noticed each time you seemed to recognize him more. You'd participate more, moan louder, scream his name and squirm from the pleasure. He relished trapping you underneath his wide shoulders, pulling you onto his lap as he fucked up into you.
He wasn't fond of the few times he summoned you and you were already wet, or smelling of cologne. He'd tease, "Lonely?" and when he'd fuck his back cum into you before helping you chase your own orgasm, he'd remind you, "You're mine, little doe. No one can replace me." And he'd feel his chest swell. Others had your body for the night, but your soul was his forever. With every meeting, he felt more like himself. And the nights you were screaming his name in the forest, and his horns were looming over you as he marked you over and over as his, he felt powerful.
Some nights, he'd call you to him to just let you rest. He'd enjoy a book, or some jazz over a meal, while you lied quietly in his bed.
The days he pulled you into hell and your hair smelled of the trees, of sweat and dirt, he would be gentler. He could feel the ache in your muscles, the tan on your cheeks, and sent you back.
One such night came, where he of course took your chains in his hand and tugged. But this time, when you arrived, your face was painted with anger. You were asleep still, and even when he whispered to you, you didn't wake. You were having a nightmare, from what he could tell. He took you to his bed, and let you settle.
You stayed there until waking up again in your bed.
And every night that week, he'd bring you to his bed and go about his tasks while you fought some demons in your head. He'd never seen you have a nightmare, and began to wonder if something was happening in the overworld.
Alastor was enjoying a deer carcass in his room, humming softly to himself, when a green light erupted on the floor.
He was well aware it wasn't night anymore, and that he hadn't brought you here. With a soft smile, he left his meal and approached the light. Slowly, your body rose from the darkness there. Not just your soul.
When you looked up at him, a smile on your lips and two small doe ears on your head, he grinned, "Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?" He offered you a hand up, "Welcome home.”
༻Masterlist༺
3K notes · View notes
star-girl69 · 3 months
Text
I Did Something Bad
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader
—-
synopsis: you somehow become the target of a deadly vendetta, and it ends in an overnight stay in the infirmary, a lot of blood, and a lot of your scary girlfriend being her scary self.
a/n: save me clarisse “touch her and die” la rue save me save me save me save me save me save me… this is a completely self indulgent fic and no i will not apologize. love y’all!!!!!
inspired by an ask @nvirskies sent me
I Did Something Bad - Taylor Swift
warnings: not proofread, VERY VIOLENT AND GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF Y/N GETTING INJURED!!!!! BLOOD!!!!! WOUNDS!!!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, anyways…. DANNNNNYYYYYY MY BABY!!!!! HES BACK!!!!!, ares cabin bonding time <3, FOUND FAMILY, y/n is crazy too, insane power couple who are insane together!!, y’all know what’s going on…… protective clarisse, possessive clarisse, insane clarisse, murderous clarisse, again clarisse gets a bit too into capture the flag, swearing, attempted murder!, LOTS of violence, kissing, clarisse hates talking about her feelings but she will do it for y/n, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
Clarisse loves capture the flag.
It’s the one place where she really gets to be in her element. That’s where she prefers to be- in the moment, hard and fast, a flurry of swords and adrenaline and the feeling of someone surrendering.
Of course, Clarisse is never the one surrendering. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone surrender to her.
Clarisse loves capture the flag.
And that love is also shared by her equally violently-minded siblings, which is why you’re sitting on her lap in the middle of the Ares cabin, listening to everyone scream and shout about tactics and plans and things that are just general boring.
Clarisse, of course, listens to everything. Silently humming to herself, drumming her fingers against your stomach, rolling her eyes and scoffing silently at some of her siblings ideas.
They all shout out ideas, but everyone knows that Clarisse has the final say.
You should probably be preparing with your own cabin- but this is just so much fun.
The tension in the room rises significantly after Nelson shuts down another one of Carrie’s ideas. Carrie has a mind made for the strategy of battle, where Nelson is all tough war and pain.
Clarisse likes to brag that she’s the perfect mix of both.
“I’m bored,” you huff, leaning back into your girlfriend. “Can they start punching each other again? Or something entertaining?”
She laughs and wraps her arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder. “You’re so violent,” she mumbles. “I’m supposed to be the violent one.”
“I jus’ think it’s really funny,” you shrug. “Like, can you blame me? It’s objectively funny.”
Danny, your favorite of Clarisse’s siblings, skitters through his older siblings and throws himself onto the couch next to you.
“Did they start fighting yet?” he asks, practically bouncing in his seat.
“No,” you sigh, dramatically.
Clarisse puts her arm around his shoulder, and you know she feels ridiculously proud over the fact that she’s the favorite of the most lovable member of the Ares cabin, and the fact you’re literally draped over her.
Not your fault she’s so comfy.
“Hey, how you feelin’ about tomorrow?” you ask Danny.
His face hardens. “I’m gonna fuck a bitch up.”
“Oh, my Gods,” you mutter, listening to Clarisse chuckle and pat his back.
“Hell yeah,” she smiles.
“Good!” you say after a second, feeling slightly disturbed over the 11 year-old’s colorful language. But, who are you to stop him?
Clarisse sighs after a moment, and you look up to see Carrie and Nelson finally at each other’s throats. Besides for the fact it’s just so funny when the siblings fight, they should get all of the anger out now so they can work as a team tomorrow.
“Well, no, Nelson, we aren’t gonna fucking ‘kill them with kindness,’ because that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Hey, fuckers,” Clarisse says, but they’re too absorbed in the fight to hear her.
You scramble off of her, climbing over Danny, watching in amazement as he opens the bag of pretzels he did not have in his hand a second ago- stuffing one in his mouth and holding it out to you.
These pretzels might have been buried in between the couch cushions. But they’re sealed, so who cares.
“You know what, fuck you, Carrie!” Nelson shouts, pushing her back.
“Askin’ for it,” she laughs, winding up and punching him straight in the face.
You can’t feel bad for the crunch, because Nelson should have know Carrie was gonna punch him- he could have at least put in an effort to stop her. Instead, he just stood there and took it.
“Oh,” Matty winces, sliding next to you. Why the hell are random things just appearing? Did he come out of the cushions too? Probably, seeing as he’s always falling asleep. “Askin’ for it,” he mumbles, shaking his head.
Nelson recovers from the hit and jabs at Carrie- but she stands there, hand on her hip, completely still.
Clarisse catches his arm.
He’s breathing out heavily, and the room goes pretty much silent- except for you, Danny and Matty chomping on pretzels in the corner of the couch.
“You’re fuckin’ embarrassing, Nelson.”
He pulls himself away from her and huffs, heading to the bathroom to deal with his bright red cheek.
Clarisse sighs heavily.
“Gods, can’t have one night without someone punching someone.”
Carrie looks around the room with a smug smile, scoffing when Clarisse shoulders her as she walks past. She lays down in your waiting arms, kissing your hand as you wrap them around her.
“Gettin’ on my nerves,” she mumbles, closing her eyes and leaning into you.
“I know,” you soothe, turning around and making a silly face to Danny at her dramatics.
—-
Nelson is obviously still angry the next day. His helmet doesn’t cover all of the nasty bruise on his cheek, a sickening purple against his tan skin.
Him and Carrie swap glares across the the throngs of red helmets.
“Okay, Carrie, stop,” you huff. “He might actually kill you. You’re the one who got a punch in- let it go.”
She turns to glare at you, now.
“Tell him to stop staring at me.”
“Well, you can help by looking away first.”
“Fine,” she mumbles, putting her helmet on and tightening her grip on her sword. Chiron made his usual speech around 10 minutes ago, and Clarisse has finally finished updating everyone- more like yelling incoherently at everyone- about their positions.
But you have a similar strategy.
The blue team has the brains of the Athena Cabin, but the red team has all the brute strength.
Clarisse huffs, walking over to you and Carrie.
“Okay, ready?” she asks, reaching over to tighten the straps of your armor- even through they’re perfectly fine- by habit.
Carrie let’s out a deep breath. “Yes. Very ready to fuckin’ pummel those blue shits and pretend they’re Nelson.”
“That’s the spirit!” you smile, slapping her shoulder. She rolls her eyes and steps away from you, smiling slightly.
Danny and Matty walk over, and your little band is complete. You hunt in the woods just south of the flag, deterring a lot of hopefuls. The older campers know to come up with sneakier ways to get by, but Clarisse is otherwise confident in those she placed by the flag to really protect it.
You strike out into an offensive stance, pointing the end of your blade straight at Danny- and he quickly counters with his own impeccable stance.
“Oh, yeah, they don’t stand a chance,” you smile, and he returns it.
—-
You take your normal routes through the woods.
With the added weight of you and Danny, the group is not as stealthy as they could be- but Clarisse is a secret teddy bear who doesn’t like to be away from you for long, and Danny is too young to be set loose, left to watch the big kids work, occasionally jumping in for a few swings.
Leaves crunch under your feet in the otherwise silent forest. You’ve already come across a few stragglers, and before you could even raise your sword the Ares siblings had disarmed them. Your heart squeezed seeing the absolutely heartbroken look on Danny’s face- he was promised that this time he could really fight.
And after you pulled Clarisse off to the side and reminded her of her deal- Danny was leading the group, with you and Clarisse behind him.
He marches tall and proud, sword pointed out, even though Clarisse scolds him and says his arm will get tired- he’s young and doesn’t listen to his half-sibling.
You smile, watching him, admiring how carefree he is. The walk continues mostly in a stealthy silence- Clarisse, Carrie and Matty has mastered the art of walking silently- so your cover is lost by you and Danny.
Of course, whenever you try to convince Clarisse that maybe you should go somewhere else- she looks at you like you’ve suddenly turned into a female Minotaur.
Clarisse, her hand in yours right now, has a hard time understanding the concept that she can’t be with you all the time. That you might get hurt, that she can’t always stop it.
It’s sweet how constantly concerned she is over you, it makes your stomach twist so good.
She squeezes your hand, bringing you out of your reverie. Voices.
“Danny,” you whisper, almost silently, kicking the back of his leg. When he turns around, frown on his face, you point towards the direction of the voices- and now footsteps.
You all stop in your tracks.
Danny practically jumps up in down, you smile wide, and Clarisse signals to Carrie and Matty, urging you and Danny closer to the action.
When they come into the clearing, a few Hermes kids dressed in blue bandanas, swords in their hands. They’re all strong, you’ve seen them around- recognize them vaguely as potentials that lost to Clarisse in ugly sparring matches.
The siblings have disappeared into the trees.
So it’s just you, unsuspecting, and Danny.
You can see the triumphant looks on their faces.
Except for one of them.
Nicky, maybe? You don’t care enough about him to know his name. But there’s something more in his eyes that you notice immediately, something similar to the passion Clarisse gets in her eyes at the mention of this game.
Danny jumps forward, sword swinging just the way his blood knows, the way his siblings have taught him meticulously.
They seem momentarily surprised at the force his small body can produce, quickly countering with their own jabs, swords clashing together. The other focuses on you.
You’re not worried, you know the siblings are just letting the two of you have your moments before they really come in and you can sit back and watch Clarisse fight. Muscles rippling, sick smile on her face, spear glowing with electricity.
He comes at you and your swords clash together, the force of it making your teeth ring- Gods, he’s strong. He pulls back and you do the same thing a few more times, neither of you able to get the upper hand- until he finally seems to realize his height advantage.
He swings his sword down on you, pressing down hard- and with gravity on his side you have to put all of your focus into stopping that downward sword.
You don’t see his foot coming out to kick you back.
You only feel it, boot in your chest, wind knocked out of you, groaning as you slam into the ground.
“Fuck,” you breathe, tasting blood in your mouth.
“Y/N!” Danny shouts, and that’s when you see his sword coming down on you again. He does it on purpose, that much is sword, the strategic placing of his sword slicing through the top of your arm.
He doesn’t mean to kill you. He means to hurt you.
His purpose isn’t winning the game, you realize as the blade tears through skin, his purpose is to hurt you. That’s what you saw in his eyes.
Delight that his prey was right in front of him.
The realization washes over you like a wave- but like the real ocean, another one comes- an overwhelming feeling of pain, blooming outward like a flower.
He bites his lip in concentration, standing over you as his blade sinks into the dirt. He smiles wide, hitting his target.
You scream.
It’s a quick stop. The clearing is filled with the sound of your screams, swords stopping in midair- everyone realizing simultaneously that you’re really hurt. That this boy hurt you on purpose.
Something cuts through the air, wind in your ears, swiftly burying itself through Nicky’s armor and into his side.
You’ve realized in the last day that men are stupid. First, it was Nelson not expecting to get punched, and now it was Nicky not prepared for a retaliation after hurting you.
The thick armor slowed down the spear, so it unfortunately stabs his side and falls right out.
He yells in pain, ripping off his armor, revealing a small cut. Nothing compared to yours, but you can faintly recognize the fire in his eyes before Matty is leaning over you and Carrie is wrapping a bandana above the pain in your arm.
You hear the sounds of something happening, someone fighting, skin on skin.
You hear all of this, you see all of it, but all you can feel is the burning, burning cut in your arm. It feels like he cut it off. Your mind is hazy, you know blood is gushing, you never knew something could hurt this bad.
You faintly realize you bit your tongue when you went down. Blood spurts from your mouth when you cough, when you groan in pain, when you say her name like a prayer over and over again.
“Clarisse,” you moan, legs twisting around, trying to get away from the pain that you can’t escape from. “Clarisse, Clarisse, please, Clar…”
Matty pulls your head into his lap.
You can tell it’s bad, you can see the queasy look on his face. You clench your fist- the one you can feel, at least- to keep from screaming, heels digging into the dirt. You’re still trying to get away. But you can’t. You can’t get away from this all consuming pain.
“It’s okay,” Danny whispers, suddenly appearing next to you. He voice shakes, he doesn’t know, he can’t tell you anything reassuring.
“Can you go find someone, Danny? One of the Apollo kids, anyone?”
He ignores Carrie, starring at you for a second longer.
“Y/N,” he mumbles, his voice quiet, finally able to act like the young boy he is.
“You can go,” you breathe, somehow finding the strength to make him believe you’re okay. “Go help me, okay?”
His little footsteps disappear into the woods faster than you’ve ever heard him run, even when they have his favorite brownies for dessert.
You let out a sob.
“D-did he cut it off?” you moan. “It feels like he cut it off, please tell me he didn’t… he didn’t cut my arm off…”
“Oh, fuck, no,” Carrie breathes, pressing down agains the wound to try and stop the blood from gushing out- but it doesn’t really help. It’s just too much. “I mean, it’s deep and it’s nasty, but you’ve still got an arm, don’t worry.”
She laughs, awkwardly, nervously. You can feel even more of your arm drifting away, blood pouring out onto the ground.
“Hey, hey, no,” Matty mutters, lightly hitting your face.
“Wha-”
“Can’t fall asleep, Y/N,” Carrie says, nervously. “Sit up against Matty, come on, huh?” you lean against Matty, head clearing now that there’s fresh air in your system.
Your eyes focus on Clarisse.
Except she’s not anywhere near you, she’s 10 feet away, punching Nicky so hard you’re surprised he’s still standing.
Carrie cringes. “Okay, maybe don’t look at that.”
But you’re sort of entranced by her. She’s not outwardly angry, her face reveals nothing- just a mask of hard, unrelenting focus. It should scare you, how much concentration she puts into her deadly punches, blood flying with each hit she lands. Her knuckles are red, his face is a mess, but it’s exhilarating to know she would do this for you.
A sickening crack rents the air. “My fucking nose, fuck, fuck, screw you, you fucking bitch! Fuck-”
The smallest smile creeps it way onto her face. She wipes her mouth, leaving blood on her lips- but she doesn’t seem to notice.
“I can keep going!” she shouts back, grabbing his shirt. “You wanna do that shit? I’m only getting started. I’m gonna throw you around, then I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you.”
“Wait! Wait, okay, wait, shit,” he breathes, holding his hands up in surrender. Blood pours from his nose, down to her hand bunched in his shirt. He’s taller than her, yet he’s surrendering.
“You’re pathetic,” she hisses, pushing him back. He hits the ground with a groan, trying to grab for a rock, a sword, anything to defend himself against Clarisse and her fury.
Clarisse loves capture the flag.
One of the reasons why she does is because she gets to let out all her anger. She looks at you, but not in your eyes- she looks at the wound on your arm. You can see the red pouring out of the corner of your eye- but you choose to ignore it, instead focusing on the way the fire inside of her gets relit at the sight of your blood. She has plenty reason to be angry now.
She grabs her spear, sauntering over to him, laughing at the way he can’t even try to get up.
“So fuckin’ stupid,” she smiles, tilting her head. Then the tip of her spear is pointing right at his neck, she’s standing over him the way he did to you. “How’s it feel?” she smiles.
He coughs, hissing in pain.
“I’m scared, Clarisse, okay? You got your fucking revenge, but it wasn’t me.”
She laughs, loud and boisterous. “I just saw you cut her, dumbass. I really should kill you, just as a favor to the world.”
“Paid me,” he coughs. “Drachmas, in exchange for hurting your girlfriend-”
She presses the blade against his throat, he yells out.
“Who?”
He stays silent.
“Who?!” she yells, kicking his stomach.
“Nelson!” he screams. “Nelson! Nelson paid me, please, Clarisse-”
She moves the blade away, and he hisses- she probably just barely drew blood.
“I’m not done yet,” she whispers, deadly promise dripping from her words. She turns around, fades out of focus for a second, and then she’s right next to you.
Her hands are cupping your face, she looks sick, seeing you like this up close- but all she does is kiss your forehead. Like you, she doesn’t want to look at your flesh and blood.
“I’m here, I’m here, oh, fuck. Gods, what the fuck,” she mumbles, looking very pointedly away from the wound, finally seeing how bad it is up close.
“Clarisse.”
“I know,” she whispers, smoothing your hair back. “I know, baby, I know, but it’s gonna be okay.”
Danny runs into the clearing, shouting “just over here” while healers follow him, immediately groaning at the smell of blood, the sight of it.
Clarisse switches places with Matty, holding you against her, kissing your head again and again, muttering about how brave you are.
You almost laugh at the odd looks the Apollo kids give her, unused to seeing the big bad Clarisse so soft. But they just don’t know her like you do. She doesn’t love them like she loves you.
One of them starts to clean the blood, and your eyes drift shut as the other starts to mend your skin back together.
—-
You wake up with familiar curly hair in your face.
You spit it out, groaning, mouth feeling fuzzy, everything feelings fuzzy.
“Clarisse?” you mumble, eyes not even open, but you wake up with that hair in your mouth everyday, and you’ve memorized the weight of her arm around your waist.
She sits up immediately, jumping out of bed, standing up and fixing her messy hair like someone’s gonna be there.
“Um, hello? I was speaking, crazy girl.”
“Oh, thank Gods,” she mumbles, blowing hair out of her face and sitting back down. “Thought we got caught.”
You look at her, then your surroundings-
“Oh, holy shit,” she says, staring at you like a deer in headlights. “Wait, you’re awake. You’re awake!”
She throws her arms around you, burying her face into your neck, reverberating with the sound of your laughter.
“You make it sound like I’ve been in a coma for 10 years.” Your heart drops. “Have I… been asleep for a while?”
“Um,” she says, softly, biting her lip as she extricated herself from your neck. “Capture the flag was yesterday, so… no.”
“So you’re just being dramatic?”
“Possibly,” she smiles. “It’s not my fault you’ve taken over my entire brain.” She shows her bruised knuckles, split open, already starting to scab. “I said not to fix ‘em up. They don’t hurt that bad, and they look fucking cool.”
You grab her hands, relieved it’s only been a day, kissing the rough scabs. She blushes, although she tries her best not to, breathing in deeply.
“How are you feeling, baby?”
You look towards your totally healed arm, finally realizing that you know have full control of your hands, unlike yesterday. It’s wrapped in a bandage for precautions, but it feels totally healed.
“All good,” you smile.
“You gotta take it real easy for the next week or so, yeah?” she fusses, brushing hair behind your ear. “So you call me, or one of my siblings, anyone to help you with anything. No lifting heavy stuff, don’t do anything too fast- you might tear the healing.”
“I don’t suppose you’ll carry me around like a princess?” you giggle, laying back, inviting her into your arms. She gets back under the covers, head against your chest so she can hear your heartbeat.
“That’s not a bad idea, actually. Practical. Very safe.”
You hit her shoulder. “I’m joking.”
“Eh, I’ll change your mind.”
You smile, running your hands through her hair, enjoying the early mornings with her warmth against you, soft sunlight peeking through windows.
She sits up after a moment, laying her head back on the pillow, arm back around your waist. She just sits there for a moment, you can feel her admiring you. Clarisse doesn’t look at you. She traces your face with her eyes, imagining it was her hands, her lips, she admires you like she sees a reverence in your eyes that has nothing to do with your godly parent.
“Can you promise me something?” she asks, whispering softly, even though you’re the only two people around.
“What?” you say, staring at the ceiling, feeling like you might fall back asleep.
“Don’t get hurt. Like, ever again, please.”
You smile. “Okay, baby,” you mumble.
“I’m serious,” she smiles, nudging your cheek with her nose. “I… I was really scared. And I don’t like to feel that way, especially when it comes to you. I was angry, too. I was so fuckin’ angry I’m surprised I didn’t kill him. You can’t get hurt like that, not again, you just gotta let me protect you. Or else I might actually kill someone, Y/N.”
“I know,” you mumble. “I watched you.”
“Did I scare you?” she asks, voice soft. There’s no hint of your loving, smiley Clarisse in this bed right now. She’s worried, as if she could ever scare you.
“No,” you say, honestly. “It’s sweet how far you’re willing to go for me.”
“Yeah,” she mumbles. “You better like it. Do you know what I got for that? Eight months no dessert. Five months cleaning the fuckin’ stables.”
You barely hide your laugh. “Oh, my Gods, are you serious?”
“Yes,” she grumbles. “But, I’ve decided it’s fine. You’re my loving girlfriend, right? You can sit there all pretty so I have something to look at when I’m cleaning. And you’ll share your dessert with me, won’t you?”
“Yeah,” you mumble, turning your head. “I will.”
“I really love you. My perfect pretty princess,” she jokes, smiling lopsidedly, and you return it. “You’ll let me protect you, and maybe I can get some decent sleep at night, huh?”
When she presses her hand to your face and her lips to yours, you think nothing could possible ruin this moment. It’s just you and her, and everything that’s beautiful.
“You always protect me, Clar,” you smile.
She smiles, lips grazing yours. This is your Clarisse. The one who smiles just for you, who puts her rough hand softly against your face. This is your Clarisse, the one who would do anything for you, the one who wants to carry you around, the one who wants to protect you and hold you and never let anyone fuck with her baby.
The door slams open, someone is laughing boisterously, another person is groaning in pain, and a familiar voice is shouting your names.
“Clarisse! Y/N! Clarisse, Clarisse! Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!” Danny shouts, dragging out the last syllable of your name. He jumps onto the bed by your feet, even when Clarisse frowns, looking at you like a puppy dog who’s just brought a dead bird to your doorstep.
And as you look at the scene behind you, Nelson being laid on another bed, Carrie being helped into the corner- laughing hysterically, knuckles split open.
Nelson’s face is practically unrecognizable.
You suppose Danny really did bring something unsavory like a dead bird, dropping it right at your feet.
“So, we all woke up right?”
Your eyes whip to Danny, shocked as he know launches into a story about Carrie waking up to Nelson saying he hadn’t been called to the Big House yet, maybe he would get away from it- but swiftly received punishment in the form of Carrie’s fists. With Clarisse in your bed, no one had the guts to stop them, and they fought for what must have been 10 minutes- Nelson very obviously losing.
“And, now we’re here,” Danny sighs, breathing out after his long and embellished rant. “But you’re awake, Y/N!”
He looks at your skeptically- specifically, at your arm.
“Can I hug you?”
“Oh,” you smile, your heart twisting with such a fondness for this wonderful little kid. “Of course you can, Danny,” you smile, opening your arms wide.
“Yes, just be careful,” Clarisse cautions, her arm around your waist. “Watch the arm, huh?”
“He’s just a baby, Clarisse,” you mumble, breath messing his hair.
“He’s 11.”
“Baby,” you reinforce, squeezing him tighter.
“Y/N… you’re crushing me,” he groans.
“Oops,” you say, letting him go. “You’re just too cute,” you coo.
Clarisse scoffs from next to you. You smile, kissing her cheek. “You’re beautiful. Scary, dangerous. Not cute, though.”
She hums. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Carrie walks over, sporting her split knuckles, also opting to let them heal naturally like Clarisse. She shows them off with a wide smile, even as Nelson screams in the background when they reset his nose.
Matty rubs his temples.
You smile, looking around at your very dysfunctional, very awkward, but loving family-adjacent.
“Hey, did we end up winning the game?” you ask.
Clarisse snorts. “Oh, nah. Without us, they were lost. Who cares, though?”
“Yeah, I liked beating Nelson up much more than I would have liked winning,” Carrie smiles.
“Next time,” Danny starts, “Can I lead again?”
Clarisse squints at him. “…Maybe.”
You wink at him, nodding subtly.
“Okay!” he smiles.
Clarisse kisses your forehead.
“I love you, pretty baby,” she mumbles.
You smile. “I love you too, scary baby.”
—-
clarisse when she sees y/n get hurt: oh so the only natural response to to THROW A FUCKING SPEAR AT SOMEONE
appreciation for the fact she threw it from like really far away and just tore through his armor likkkkeeee
nelson and nicky sitting in the infirmary together hugging each other terrified clarisse and carrie are going to come back for more
nicky does not sleep at night anymore SHE SAID SHE WASNT DONE
—-
shout out to my baby danny he carried this fic fr
shoutout to y/n for getting WRECKED so we could have this beautiful moment w clarisse
shoutout to matty for being his beautiful self
shoutout to carrie for being her violent self
and finally shoutout to clarisse for being overprotective and insane
—-
clarisse after she actually convinced y/n to let her carry her around everywhere: 🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗
bitch is so happy…
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1
1K notes · View notes
cordeliawhohung · 4 months
Note
You created a monster in me with underboss!Simon and now you must take responsibility.
Please feed my new addiction with relationship headcanons 😩😩😩. I love him and Shy!reader.
i've created so many monsters y'all gotta stop biting at my ankles or at least start paying rent or smth <3 also i'm still trying to work out a lot of the dynamics of the relationship between them so this is still a little bare boned but i hope you enjoy!
mafia!141 masterlist <3
warnings: mostly fluff :3 simon is a bit of a prick lol, fem!reader,
Tumblr media
just in case anyone missed it, this is how underboss!Simon and shy!Reader meet <3
it takes a brutally long time for the two of you to start dating. a brutally long time.
and it isn't for lack of trying on Simon's end. he manages to get your number somehow (i hear Soap is very tech savvy...) and asks you out the week after the dinner at John's house, only for you to decline.
which is fine. he can take rejection. but this is... different. you're too kind when you say no. you're not saying it because you think you're too good for him, you're saying it because of something else, and Simon can tell the difference but can't exactly tell what it is.
it drives him nuts for a long time. you were supposed to be just another number in his phone for a booty call. he's used to getting pretty much anything he wants, after all, but even then it shouldn't have bugged him as much as it did. maybe it was because he liked the way you looked at him. not with disgust. not with some lustful intention. you were... soft. kind, even.
as for you? you think it's crazy how this 6'4", ripped, and kind guy showed interest in you. you, someone too anxious for her own good, someone who said no because it was less scary than committing to something. and you hate yourself for rejecting him.
so in an effort to stay close to him, you text him pretty often. you send him pictures of things you see or run into during your day. something funny at work, a cool rock you found in someone's garden, the spider that decided to make its home in your shower. and sweetheart, you have no idea what you're doing to the poor man ):
this goes on for a long while. just simon being a stupid man, not wanting to push your boundaries after you already rejected him, and you being too anxious to fix things and ask him yourself.
eventually, by some miracle (that i might write more about later because like i said BARE BONES) the two of you get together. and it's... interesting. simon isn't really used to dating. like properly. he's used to buttering a girl up, going back to her place for a quick fuck, and then only seeing her whenever either of them are too bored and horny to function. but with you it's nothing like that at all. there's no sex on the first date, not even a damn kiss, and he finds himself craving you more than ever because of it. wanting to be around you all the time, wanting to hear about your day.
man is fucking obsessed.
he treats you like a princess. he only ever really spent his money on stupid shit but now he can spend it on you! you never ask for anything, but god forbid if you express that anything, be it clothes or otherwise, looks cute because he will buy it for you, no matter how awkward you are at receiving gifts.
also! because he's so big and somewhat brutish, no one fucks with you when you're in public together. annoying kiosk clerks trying to aggressively sell you something? one look from him and they're gone. someone messed up your order but you're too anxious to ask them to fix it? he's advocating for you.
because of him, you find yourself growing less afraid and anxious of things. he teaches you how to be brave, and you teach him how to be soft. there's nothing in the world that he wouldn't do for you <3
oh also btw he's in the mafia. he might have forgotten to mention that... hope that doesn't freak you out or anything. don't worry about the blood on his shirt or the bruises on his face or the cuts on his arms or... oh god you look like you're going to cry. it's nothing, sweetheart! promise! stop trying to take him to the hospital!
also, some sorta unrelated comments: i think shy!reader is def a hostess at a restaurant. i feel like simon would hang out at the restaurant too just to be around you. he'd also slip you a tip, even though you tell him you make hourly and don't depend on tips.
"consider it my way of saying thanks for sitting us at the table with the best view."
the view is you, btw.
Tumblr media
AHHH i'm sorry this was such a mess? i have so many jumbled thoughts but i'm glad i was able to get some of them out and i hope they were somewhat enjoyable al;kdjf i'll be working on a short drabble/oneshot for him over the weekend, so i'm hoping that'll make up for this <3
1K notes · View notes
absdoll · 3 months
Note
oh my godddddd i just read your sub!Abby fic and i'm just thinking of a fic where reader 'doms' Abby but really she's just letting you have your fun and we all know who's still in charge :) oh my god i'm losing it please i just know you would make it so hot,,,,,,,, omg i'm giggling and twirling my hair
yesyesyesyesyes ♡ 💗💕 exactly nonnie ! <3
cw: ice play (almost) , dom!abby , daddy kink lol
Tumblr media
“hands behind your back.” you sternly say to your blonde girlfriend, who is manspreading in front of you on your shared bed, you stood between her muscular legs.
“yes ma’am” she giggles back at you, totally taking this seriously, and pins her hands to the small of her back.
you roll your eyes at abby and puff out your chest, “what’s funny? don’t make me get rough with you.” you warn her.
“not funny baby, just cute.” she bats her eyes up at you, making your tummy explode with butterflies.
abby is always in charge. sex, plans, grocery lists, cleaning, abby is always the one handling everything. and as much as you love being under her control, today you wanted to give her a chance to relax and be tended to. but it’s abby, and abby won’t let that slide.
you point your finger to her broad chest, “lay back.” abby raises an eyebrow at you, following your orders. “you’re liking this, aren’t you princess?” abby teases.
“yeah, i am, princess” you tease back. abby can admit that she finds it hot how you’re being so demanding and tough, she knows at any second though she can bend you over her knee and you’ll be a whimpering obedient mess like you always are, but she’ll let you have your fun for now.
you pick up a cup that’s to your left, swirling around the melting ice cubes in it. abby’s gaze shifts to your hand, still shaking the cup. “baby…” she nervously breathes.
“i’m gonna take off your pants, okay?” you slide her grey sweatpants down her legs, biting your lip at the sight of her blue boxers, removing those too.
you plop an ice cube in your mouth, but abby abruptly grabs your jaw. “spit it out.” she demands. you shake your head out of her grasp, spitting the ice cube on her chest. “tss-ahh! what the fuck!” she hisses.
“i’m in charge, remember? don’t interrupt me again.” as you reach for the cup, abby has decided she’s had enough of this.
the burly blonde sits up, sliding her boxers back up to her waist. you watch as she blatantly disobeys your orders.
“here’s what gonna happen my sweet girl. you’re gonna lay down, take off those cute little panties, put your hands behind your back, and sit pretty until i tell you you can move, got it?” she hovers over you, awaiting your compliance.
“b-” you try to regain your “control” you had just a minute ago, but abby’s patience is long gone. “nuh uh baby, all i want to hear from that little mouth is yes daddy.”
abby walks out of the room, leaving you to process what’s about to happen. you do as you’re told because abby can get scary when disobeyed. her blue crystal eyes get dark, almost stone grey.
you’re naked, hands flat under your back, thighs pressing together trying to relieve the uncomfortable sensation pooling down there.
the door creaks slightly, abby’s tall build standing in the doorway, arm resting on the frame above her head. “aww good girl.” she smiles at you.
her strap is tucked in the band of her boxers, the black silicone tip peering from the top. “and good girls get rewarded, yeah?” she walks towards you, eyes locked with yours.
“spread your pussy for me doll” she coos, eyes widening at your milky cream dripping down your thigh.
abby slaps your sopping pussy, letting a long string of spit land on your throbbing nub.
“you ready?” she smirks, positioning herself at your center.
Tumblr media
💕 @whore4abby @enbesbians @hersweetheart @picklesarenice69 @abbystoy ♡
a/n : HI MY BABIES OH MY GOD I MISSED U ANGELS SO MUCH ♡♡ feels like i haven’t written in years , ik u lot are patiently waiting on dealer!ellie & i promise promise promise she’s coming soon 🎀💕 enjoy this fun req i got awhile ago , sorry it took me so long nonnie !!!
577 notes · View notes
yoohyeontual · 2 years
Text
I’m so damn tired and lost lately that for once I remembered to put my ac on an hour before I go to bed so my room is nice and cold,but I actually never done it 😑
#i guess I got distract and moved the curtain but didn’t open the damn ac !!!!#i fucking hate myself so much#now I’m exhausted but I gotta wait because it’s too hot for me to go to sleep 🤪#and I can’t sleep cause my ac make so much fucking noise even with earplugs I hear it perfectly 😭#so no guys I can’t do anything about it :’)))))#I’m sorry that I come back just to complain#My mood is just really bad lately so I’m not in the mood for social#but I actually was busy yesterday all day I went to my aunt’s and spend the afternoon in her pool for the first time this summer#it was fun I actually rarely go with them cause my aunt likes her pool water really hot and it makes me dizzy and nauseous#but this time the temperature was nice#but I got a bit sunburned 😭 I don’t go outside often and I did a million thing before going in I forgot to put on sun cream Jfjdbdj 😭#but it’s not bad just hurt a little bit but nothing uncomfortable at least#but today my annoying aunt came with my uncle and I was feeling like shit cause I had a terrible night so she exhausted me 😭#i gave her the painting I made for her last minute call to be sure she would ask me too much questions cause she wanted to leave fast <3#she loved it a lot even gave me a hug i was like in my head you don’t derserve it but I promise I would do one so whatever JFKDJKXBDJD#last night was rough I slept on my arm and I woke up to it being numb but it hurt terribly !!! it usually hurt a little#but it hurt like 10x more it was a bit scary and it hurt all night I had to take Advils so it stopped that never happened not as bad 😭#i also cried really hard in my dream and woke up crying which I never cried that hurt waking up since my dad was in a fight with my brother#for like 3 years and I dreamed about him and I missed him so I woke up bawling dkdbjdbdjs#it may have happened dreaming about THAT friend too but I’m not sure maybe not at that point but I have a feeling it did#ANYWAY it so fucking weird waking up crying#i woke up like 3 times in a hard way my night was disgusting and I’m tired#it’s been 20 minutes now I hope it’s cold enough so I can sleep cause I’m so damn tired#I’m blaming on the period coming too I’m sure it as a thing to do with that too#I’m not that exhausted after a 7h of sleep usually even a weird one like this like I was falling asleep this afternoon it’s rare it happen#i hate my life and myself so much lately#i Need something to calm me down everything is going wrong since a while it’s crazy#alex.txt#tw negativity#<- in case cause it’s kinda negative fkbsjdns
0 notes
estrellami-1 · 9 months
Text
If I Should Stay
Y’all are the best. Seriously. I love y’all. One quick note: if y’all reblog, please include the tag “#if I should stay” (mind the capital i) so people can find the rest of the parts! Thanks so much!!! ❤️
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
Eddie does end up following Robin because he does not, in fact, have a death wish.
Even if, apparently, he dies in the future. Go figure.
She instructs him to grab his guitar. “Why in the fuck,” he starts, then reconsiders when Robin whips around to stare at him. “Anyone ever tell you you’re terrifying?”
Robin shrugs a shoulder. “Not as much as they should.”
She stashes her bike in the back of his van and directs him to the Harrington residence, where Steve’s waiting, arms crossed, wondering smile on his face. “Miracle worker,” he calls, and Robin laughs as she grabs her bike from the back.
“Hate to break it to ya, Dingus, but you’re just not scary.”
“I’m plenty scary. I’ve got a nail bat.”
“Right, because that would beat Nance’s sawed-off in a fight.”
“Hey, it could! You never know! They’ve got different ranges!”
Robin rolls her eyes at Eddie, like she’s asking if he can believe it, which. No. No he can’t.
“Sorry,” he says, regretting everything when they both look at him. “What the actual fuck is happening?”
“Come inside,” Steve says, suddenly all business. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.” His eyes find Robin’s. “One of ���em took Barb last night.”
“Fuck,” Robin whispers.
“Yup. Will’s been missing for two days. Maybe, if we get down there soon enough…”
“Let’s hope so. Which one of the rugrats found El?”
“I think they all did? But Mike’s the one who took her in.” He shakes his head, mouth a grim line. “I saw Dustin today. They’re kids, Robs.”
“So are we,” she reminds him, heaving a tired-sounding sigh. “A buncha kids fighting real-life monsters.”
“Monsters?” Eddie parrots.
Somehow they end up inside while Steve goes to pick up the Party. Who the party is, Eddie doesn’t know. Just like he doesn’t know why he’s in Steve’s Harrington’s house with someone who isn’t Steve Harrington.
“Who’s the Party?” He asks Robin. “And why am I here again? If I die, doesn’t that mean I shouldn’t be here? Should be somewhere far, far away instead?”
“The Party’s a group of kids Steve babysits. They’re the first ones to go through this whole mess. And admittedly, you’re here partially because you can help, and partially for selfish reasons.” She offers him a lopsided grin. “Believe it or not, watching you die was kinda traumatic.”
“Right,” he says slowly. “And you and Steve? How do you know each other? He and Nancy Wheeler are the talk of the town, and if he’s stepping out-”
“He wouldn’t,” she says harshly. “Ever.” She takes a breath. “Two years from now, or a year ago, he and I work together in a mall. Long story short, we get captured and tortured by Russians. High on truth serum, I tell him I’m a lesbian in the bathroom, we help take down the big bad, and boom. Instant platonic soulmates.”
Eddie gapes at her. “What the fuck.”
“Just about,” she nods. “Oh, and the kids love D&D, so you’ll have plenty to talk about. They’re little shits but they’re also kinda great once you get to know them.”
Eddie stares at her. The front door opens, and Steve walks in, followed by a gaggle of preteens and Nancy Wheeler.
“Robs,” Steve says, not slowing his stride as he begins taking the stairs two at a time. “Bathroom. Now.”
Robin grimaces. “Breakdown time,” she murmurs to Eddie, then follows Steve, leaving everyone else staring at each other.
“So,” Eddie says. “I heard you like D&D?”
A dark-haired kid who looks suspiciously like Nancy narrows his eyes. “You play?”
“Play!” Eddie repeats. “I don’t just play, my young friend, I am the greatest Dungeon Master this side of the Mississippi.”
A curly-haired kid begins to grin. “I think we should put that to the test.”
Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @local-writers-corner @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42
@paperbackribs @ninjapirateunicorns @bisexualdisastersworld @hiscrimsonangel @lolawonsstuff @xo-r4e @thedragonsaunt @l0st-strawberry
Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @little-gae-shit
1K notes · View notes
ohbo-ohno · 6 months
Text
Kinktober Day 15 - Noncon
Ghost x Reader - 4.6k (on ao3)
summary: You find yourself cornered in a Maze of Mirrors. (Reader POV)
cw: noncon everything, face fucking, pussy slapping, degradation, kinda a wedgie? like a front wedgie? is that a thing?, orgasm denial
note: if you like this (or hate it but like the concept) read Halloween Haunt by Harley Laroux <3 her erotica is top tier
You’ve always loved Halloween - always been the kid with the scariest costume in class, always had the house decorated with uncomfortably realistic decorations. When your sorority sisters dressed up as black cats and sexy witches, you spent hours painting the most realistic zombie makeup you could. (Your sisters complained for months that you ruined the pictures, but the frat boys had all thought your makeup was far more interesting than theirs. God, you do not miss college.)
Regardless, you’ve always been known to love any and everything scary. There’s something about the thrill of a scare - the creeping horror as you start to realize what’s coming, the ultimate reveal - that always gets you a little squirmy in your seat. Your first crush was Skeet Ulrich in Scream - specifically the scene where he’s covered in blood, licking his fingers. 
You get all those ooey-gooey good scared feelings as your friend drags you through the decently crowded fairgrounds. The actual fair - the one that comes yearly, that no one ever calls anything but the fair - had left only two weeks ago, so this travelling fair had set things up in mostly the same arrangement and, you suspect, to trick certain people into thinking they were the same company.
You’ve already forgotten what your friend said the event was called. She hadn’t needed to give many details to convince you - you heard travelling circus, horror themed, interactive workers, and you were in. The branding isn’t very strong anyways, the only place the name was displayed was the entrance booth, and none of the workers seem to wear any sort of logo, so you don’t feel too forgetful for letting it slip your memory so easily.
You’re not very impressed with the fear factor so far. You hadn’t done too much makeup (hadn’t wanted to risk being mistaken for a cast member) but since it’s the night before Halloween you’ve got a half-done costume on - a clown. Just some white face paint, black lips, and overdrawn triangles around the eyes, a little smudged to make it look like you’ve been chasing someone down and working up a sweat. Your hoodie and tennis skirt look a bit out of place, but you’d wanted to be comfortable since you hoped you’d be spending your night running from actors.
But even a face full of makeup feels like it might’ve been too much effort for this place. Most of the costumes look like they’re from Party City at best - some of them even look very lazily hand-made - and none of the workers seem particularly interested in scaring people. Still, the crowd is easily amused and even a wave or a feint towards a customer has shrieks ringing in the air every few minutes.
You sigh a little disapointedly as you and your friend linger on the edge of the fairgrounds, off to the side and in the dark so you don’t have to deal with the crowd. She pulls out a cigarette and offers you her light.
“I’m sorry,” she says, lighting the stick between your teeth when you lean forward. “I really thought it would be scarier than this. Some of the posters…” she exagetates a shiver. “I thought they’d at least have better costumes.”
You eye a man in a werewolf mask across the pathway, pissing into the dirt. He’s got a flannel and jeans on, and the mask is a little bit crumpled like he pulled it out of a Walmart bin this morning. You’d bet money the flannel was just a happy coincidence he noticed when he showed up for work.
“Yeah,” you sigh, blowing out a lungful of smoke and watching the actor try not to get his dick stuck in his zipper. “Not really your fault, though, these things always look scarier in the ads. Wanna get out of here soon?”
You pass the cigarette to her. “In a bit,” she replies. “I want to try and find some food first. You hungry?”
You shake your head with a grunt. “I wouldn’t trust anything cooked here, honestly. Might just pick up something on the way back.”
She passes you the cigarette for one last breath. “Well I’m too hungry for that. You good on your own for a bit?”
You crouch down a moment to stub out the cigarette, leaving the butt in the gravel. “Yeah, sure. Might see if these fun houses have anything worth seeing in them.”
“You should!” She smiles over her shoulder at you as she starts off to a more well-lit section of the fair. “You never know, maybe they stick the real scares in there!”
You give her a final wave and shout, “Here’s hoping!” at her back as she leaves. 
You linger outside for a little longer, scanning the few structures nearby to decide which one you want to waste a few tickets on.
There’s a Freak Show, but you already know you’d be horribly disappointed if you went in there, something labeled a “House of Horrors” that you’re sure is as much a scam as the freak show, and a few games that have cheap prizes lined up above them.
Across from you, with no lights around it and just one attendant - slumped over, hopefully sleeping - at the front, is a House of Mirrors. Figuring it’s the least likely to be a waste of time (and knowing the kid won’t wake up to charge you), you head over to the building.
The closer you get the more you worry about if he’s asleep or dead, but his snores rattle the little tickets resting on his desk so you figure he’s just a slacker. It’s almost too easy to get by him with all your tickets safe in your pocket. There’s no one else around the darkened corner of the fairgrounds, but you’re quite sure no one would bother snitching on you this late at night. All the parents with little kids left hours ago, leaving mostly teenagers and adults of varying ages left to wander the park.
There’s music playing from speakers that you can’t see, an old clown-themed song that sounds like it’s playing on a scratched up DVD. You’re pleasantly surprised as you make your way through the dusty lobby and into the main section of the building, creatively labeled MAZE OF MIRRORS.
Their branding could definitely use some work, but you’ll give them points for ambience - the lights are turned so low that it’s nearly too dark to see, making all of the mirrors even more difficult to spot. You find yourself a little spooked as you start to make your way through the maze, grinning to yourself.
It’s a shockingly difficult maze, you quickly discover. The music is so loud in some spots that you can hardly hear your thoughts, and so faint in others that you think it might be turned off. The maze itself is a series of either tight, tiny hallways or large open rooms. Whoever designed it clearly knew how to take advantage of the space they were given, the maze feels ten times bigger than it looked on the outside as you wander through.
You know the trick to mazes - keep one hand on the right wall and eventually you’ll find your way out - but it’s fun to just wander around the place, so you let yourself get stuck wandering in circles. You’re glad your friend isn’t here to see how many times you manage to walk into a mirror fully confident that it’s not there, only to whack yourself in the face. For how low maintenance the rest of the fair is, you’re surprised that the hall of mirrors is what they focus their upkeep on.
You’ve been in the maze for about five minutes when you see him.
He scares the shit out of you at first. You spot him behind you in a mirror - one you’d just walked into, which is the only reason you can see well enough to notice him - standing at the entrance to the hallway you’d turned down. He’s clad in all black, except for the skull mask over his face. You think he’s just something taped onto the wall with the way that he blends in, but then that mask titls to the side and you’re struck with the bone-deep knowledge that you’re being watched.
“Shit!” You shout when it first registers that he’s not a piece of paper, one hand coming up to clasp at your erratically beating heart while the other steadies you against the mirror. He doesn’t move past tilting his head a bit further, and after a moment you relax.
You don’t turn around, but you study him a bit in the mirror. It’s too dark to see much more than the outline of his body, but he’s big. He looks like he’s wearing a long sleeved t-shirt and jeans with the mask, and he must be wearing gloves to cover his hands since you can’t see them.
You huff out a laugh as you let both of your hands fall to your sides.
“You got me good,” you call, glancing over your shoulder. You almost jump again - he’s closer than you’d realized, but too far away for you to touch. “I didn’t even see you follow me in here.”
He doens’t say anything. You turn around more fully, leaning back against the mirror and crossing your arms across your chest.
“You gonna start chasin’ me now?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow. You’re playing up the sass, but it’s always fun to mess with theme park employees.
The man takes a few steps forward, heavy boots thudding against the cheap wood flooring. He really is an intimidating bastard, far scarier than any of the other actors you’d seen so far.
“Well?” You call out, standing up from your spot. “Do I get a head start?”
Still no answer. He rolls his head on his neck, then steps to the side and walks into one of the connecting hallways without sparing you a glance. When you step closer to see which direction he’s chosen, he’s already gone.
You huff another laugh to yourself, shaking out your limbs and bouncing a few times on your toes.
Now that you know there’s someone in here with you, the thrill of a scare is starting to get you worked up. You hope they don’t have any rules against physical contact between actors and customers, just imagining the skeleton man tackling you has shivers running up your spine.
You don’t bother to be any quieter as you keep wandering through the maze. You bump into just as many mirrors, continue to question the speaker placement, and keep an eye out for any skeleton masks lingering behind you.
You see him a few more times, always behind you, always just out of reach. He gets progressively closer everytime you spot him. You're reminded of the Weeping Angels from Doctor Who - every time you look away, he gets closer.
It’s fun. More fun than you’ve had all night.
He finally catches up to you what you guess is about half an hour later. Youre just turning another corner, thinking about how it’s been a bit since you’ve seen your shadow, when a hand plants itself firmly between your shoulder blades and shoves.
You’re sent to the ground with a cry, palms scraping against the floor. There’s a gloved hand collaring your throat before you can think to do much more than catch your breath, hauling you up and holding you in the air.
Your eyes fly to the mirror less than a foot away, staring wide-eyed at the image reflected.
There’s you, in your messy clown makeup and hoodie, being held up by a giant swath of black behind you. He’s not ducking down at all, his feet planted on either side of your splayed legs as he towers above you. The way you’re being held up, your head doesn’t even reach his belt buckle. The contrast of your shock and discomfort to his plastic mask has your thighs clenching, just a bit.
He doesn’t duck lower, just tilts his head in that now-familiar way of his and pulls you a little further up. His hand is absolutely massive, thumb resting beneath one ear and his fingers resting below the other. You choke a bit as you’re lifted, knees scrambling beneath you.
This close to the mirror you can see his eyes - bright blue, surrounded by black paint, and staring back into yours.
He lowers his head, his free hand tugging your hair until you lean back and look straight up. The hand on your neck shifts to hold you in that position, his other hand lifting to pull the black part of his mask up.
He’s white, with thin lips and a broad jaw. You pant as you stare up at him, incapable of processing what’s going on.
His jaw works for a moment, lips twitching, and before you realize what he’s about to do you feel something wet splatter against your cheek.
He spit on you. Who the fuck does that? Being tackled and manhandled is one thing but spitting? You recoil reflixivley, lips curling as you reach up to try and wipe disgusting liquid off.
“What the fuck-” You start, but before you can even finish your sentence you’re yanked forward by your neck.
You yelp as you’re thrown from between his thighs, hips twisted awkwardly and head slamming back against the mirror. You cry out at the sharp pain at the back of your skull, but before you can think of doing anything there’s a hand around your neck again, a body crouched in front of you - over you - keeping you from doing anything.
You gape up at the actor, panting and surprised. None of the other employees even got close to touching customers - half of them didn’t even look like they wanted to be there - what the hell is this guy’s problem? Does he just take his job way too seriously
He’s far too close to you now, your nose nearly brushing where his shoulder be, his boots on either side of your thighs, his chest pressed so close that you can’t do anything with your hands.
The hand not around your neck comes up to your cheeks, grabbing them both in one hand and pinching until your lips pucker up. You squirm, letting out a noise of surprise and pain when his thumb and pointer finger dig in between your teeth to force your mouth open. One eye squeezes shut at the ache, but there’s nowhere for you to go with him caging you in.
This time when he spits, it lands right in the little hole he’s made for himself. With how close he is, you see the way his lips twitch up in the corners.
You try your best to get out from under him, hands pushing at his shoulders and legs desperately kicking. But he’s like a statute above you, hard as stone and immoveable. 
He leans so close that his lips nearly brush yours, meeting your glare with a spark of amusement. 
“Like how it tastes?” He purrs, chest rumbling against yours.
You make a noise somewhere between offended and annoyed, trying to throw yourself every which way for even an inch of freedom. All you manage is a tighter grip on your jaw and neck, leaving you wincing.
“Lots more where that came from,” he promises.
It’s insultingly easy for him to manhandle you, and you curse all the times you swore to yourself you’d finally start taking self-defense classes. You can barely manage a single blow, and when your hands or feet do make contact he doesn’t even flinch.
There’s absolutely nothing you can do as you’re wrestled to the floor. He gets you flat on your back then kneels over your head, his knees so close that you worry he’ll squeeze them together and pop your head like a berry.
He doesn’t give you a chance to sit up, planting one heavy hand in the center of your chest and leaning his weight forward, knocking the air out of you. You finally regain the ability to speak when his other hand moves to his belt, undoing it right above your face.
“What are you-? No, no, get the hell off me!” You shout, desperately pushing at his arm and trying to get enough leverage with your feet to squirm away. “Don’t you fucking dare- help! Somebody help!”
Your screams go ignored, blending right in with that stupid clown music and bouncing off the mirrors just to come straight back to your ears. Your noise doesn’t deter him at all, and he’s got his belt off and jeans yanked down despite your resistance. 
“No, no, no, don’t- stop, please, you can’t-” you gasp, eyes flying wide as you find yourself staring up at his cock above you. 
He doesn’t give you any warning, just grabs your jaw, holds it open, and sheathes himself down your throat.
Your limbs spasm, every instinct in your body screamin to get away as he slips right past your gag reflex. You’re terrified that you’ll vomit and choke on his cock, the fear dousing you in icy cold and leaving you limp for a minute. All you can think about is breathing around the intrusion in your throat, finding some way not to suffocate and die on a sticky mirror maze floor.
“Finally,” you hear him grunt from above you. He grabs both of your wrists, easily ignoring your weak pulls and tying them together with his belt. “Somethin’ to shut you up.”
You try and make a sound around his cock, yanking your hands away and panicking even more when you feel how firmly tied they are. You make another sound, insitively trying to cry out even with something stuffed in your mouth.
He moans above you, lowering himself to his elbows over your body. “Yeah, just like that,” he pants. “Mouth feel’s fuckin’ heavenly.”
You go silent, determined not to give this piece of shit anything he wants. Tears pour down your temples and across the tops of your ears, and your throat burns.
His hips move slowly against your face, grinding himself as deep as he can get before pulling out just a few inches and sliding back in. He’s got an unfairly large cock, and there’s already an ache developing in your jaw from just seconds held so wide open.
His foreskin catches on your teeth when he pulls the whole way out just to fuck back in, and you’re sharply reminded of the fact that you have teeth.
When his cock bottoms out, his balls resting against your eyes, you bite down, praying it’s enough to break skin.
It’s not. Instead of blood pouring into your mouth and a screaming man falling off of you, you hear the man snarl, pulling his dick out entirely and slamming it back down your throat so harshly that it feels almost like he’s punched you in the face.
“No fucking teeth,” he snaps above you, and you feel his weight shift back onto his knees, then his hands grab at your thighs and throw them open. He flips your skirt up and before you can think to bite down again lands a stinging slap against the gusset of your underwear.
You nearly scream around his cock, hips snapping closed to try and smother the pain. He only growls another sound, using one hand to hold you open and the other to rain down a series of progressively harder smacks.
Your breath hitches as you sob, hardly able to get any air in around his thrusts as he starts them back up again. Every time he buries himself to the hilt inside of you, he lands another hit to your poor pussy. You can’t help but wail around him.
“There it is,” he moans, the sound loud and unrestrained. “God you feel good screamin’ around my cock. Good fuckin’ hole, huh?”
He punctuates the last four words with slaps, leaving his length inside your throat and going back to that horrible grinding against your face. You go silent again, using all of your willpower to keep from screaming. What little thought is left in your head is used to figure out how best to breathe through your nose without choking on snot.
He doesn’t smack you again, but you feel his fingers trace around the edges of your panties. Your hips wiggle against your will, just trying to get away from the violation. One of your legs is pinned to the floor by the thigh, but the other oscillates between going limp and trying to get leverage and force your body up.
His fingers hook around the gusset of your underwear, but before you can even worry about him touching you there, he pulls them up towards your body.
He does it with such force that you’re left squealing, hips flying off the ground to try and lessen the pressure against your clit. His hand pulls so far up that you feel it resting nearly at your belly button. You can’t help the little gasping, gagging noises as he starts to thrust in and out of your mouth again.
You hear - you feel - him laugh, swaying his hand from left to right. Your hips try to follow naturally, just desperate to alleviate any of the pressure you can.
“Like a little puppet,” he murmurs, yanking even further up, moaning when you scream.
He lets them go only a few thrusts later, big hand smoothing the fabric down over your cunt. You can feel that it’s stretched out, a little looser around the meat of your pussy, and the thought only makes you cry harder.
But you go silent again. It’s the one thing left in your control - even pinned to the floor, hands tied, legs useless, mouth stuff, you can decide how much noise you make.
He doesn’t like that. He groans a little when you go quiet again, tapping your thigh sharply.
“No, come on, make your little noises again. Feels real nice on my cock.”
This time you’re ready for the smack against your vulva, and you remain silent. You stay silent for the next three too.
His hips work with a little more force again, balls smacking against your face and leaving you to squeeze your eyes shut. After the next slap his hand doesn’t lift again, just rubs over your vulva slowly.
It’s pure luck on his part that he happens to rub over your clit. It’s a pure lack of luck on your part that you moan at the sudden and unexpected pleasure, completely taken off guard.
He stills above you, then slowly repeats the movement. You’re helpless to the little whimpers coming from your throat, and you curse the fact that you’ve always been loud during sex. He zeros in on exactly how to rub your clit unreasonably quickly, fingers sure through the fabric of your underwear.
“That what you need?” He rumbles a laugh above you. “Pain won’t make you noisy, but pleasure will? I can work with that.”
Before you can even begin to question what that means, your underwear are tucked to the side, and there’s a face buried in your pussy.
He doesn’t bother taking any time to explore or try and learn your body, just dives tongue-first to your clit. His technique of lick first, figure out what feels good later unfortunately works on you, and you’re left writhing beneath him, eyes rolled back in pleasure and moans muffled.
He groans agaisnt you, too, lips vibrating against your clit in a horrible and delicious way. “There you go.” You can barely hear him over the sounds of your own choking, especially with his own voice muffled in your folds. “That feels good, keep going.”
You don’t want to, but the magic he works against your clit leaves you no choice. You can’t help the hitched cries spilling from your lips, even if they make you cry all that much harder as you hear them.
He doesn’t take much longer to come, and you’re torn between resenting the fact that it’s your sounds that get him off and being glad that he does so he can get off of you.
He comes with a loud groan, sent right into your cunt and dragging you far too close to an edge you do not want to see, and sends thick ropes right down your throat. It’s almost a kindness that you can’t taste him, only have to swallow as quickly as possible so you don’t choke. The movements of your throat only draw out his orgasm though, and you’re locked in a terrible cycle for what feels like an eternity.
He doesn’t get you off. You’re not sure if you’re thankful or not.
You gasp when he finally pulls out of your throat, taking uninhibited breaths for the first time in far too many minutes. You can’t shut your jaw from the pain, but you also can’t kick your legs when he kneels up more fully.
He’s silent as he takes back his belt, and no matter how much you beg your arms to move, they remain still on your stomach. He shifts off of you, and you whine wordlessly when he grabs a handful of your hair, wiping his flaccid cock off in it.
Still, you don’t move.
He stands and redoes his belt silently, the jingle loud even with the clown music still playing. You stare up at him, and he holds eye contact with you. For some reason, you can’t look away.
He crouches down again before he leaves, and you can’t help but flinch away. He doesn’t touch you sexually again, though, only reaches out and pushes your jaw closed with two firm fingers.
You hate that he still has the mask pulled up, because it means you can see his smirk.
“That was fun. Maybe we’ll do it again sometime.”
He’s gone before you manage to understand what he’s said, and the tears start all over again when you do.
It takes you a while to scrape yourself off of the floor. You only catch sight of yourself in one mirror before you stare at the ground.
Your makeup is ruined, teartracks running down your temples and both cheeks. There are smudges along your jaw where his hands grabbed. Your lips are swollen and red. It could not be more obvious what’s just happened to you.
You plant one hand on the wall to your right, and keep your eyes firmly planted on your sneakers as you leave the maze. You feel almost detached from yourself, unable to truly understand what happened, what it means.
The throbbing between your thighs is distracting. You worry you might chafe from how soaked your panties are.
It doesn’t take long to find your friend once you finally make it out. She takes one look at you and laughs, teases you about having fun without her. You can’t bring yourself to correct her, and she picks up on your tone quickly, dropping the subject.
The two of you walk silently to your car. You hate it, but you can’t help but scan every actor. Thankfully - or maybe not thankfully? You don’t know anymore - none of them are even close to as big as the masked man in the hall of mirrors was.
You tuck your hands beneath your armpits as you finally make it to the parking lot, walking as quickly as you can get away with without running. Your limbs go a little looser as you get to your car, mind relaxing as it recognizes how close you are to safety. 
You freeze when you finally make it to the driver’s side door, lungs going still and heart beating so quickly you worry it’ll pound right out of your chest.
There, sitting in the driver’s seat, is a skeleton mask sewed onto a balaclava.
570 notes · View notes
jyoongim · 2 months
Text
Price to pay pt. 2
Tumblr media
Anon request:
Alastor X human!reader where she is desperate to make a deal for fame and glory.
She tries to summon a demon, accidentally conjuring Alastor. Beside her feisty facade she’s quite innocent and naive. He’s intrigued by her and toys with her, like a prey,tricking her into him, she signs the deal. He’ll  come back after 1yr to collect his pretty little prize…her body and soul.
Part one
part 3
————————————————————————
Songs: primadonna (marina), Judas(lady Gaga ), i have nothing (Whitney !!!), cobra (Megan thee stallion), dark horse (Katy Perry ), sex therapy, material girl (madonna)
You sighed as you walked off stage. Your managers and assistants quickly surrounded you as you walked into the dressing room.
”You were amazing!”
”You’re trending already!”
”what an amazing performance!”
”What a great tour!”
You sipped on some water as you were undressed and sat on the couch as everyone buzzed around.
So much had happened in the span of a year. It honestly felt like a dream.
But it wasn’t a dream.
The necklace around your neck was your reminder of that.
You were the hottest sensation. You have signed multiple record deals and within weeks you were in a recording studio giving a demo.
It was all a blur after that.
You quickly gained popularity and before you knew what was happening, you were on tours. You had been to so many places and performed in front of thousands of people. 
It was a dream come true.
Your latest album was your last gift you would leave behind.
It told of all of your love for the spotlight, the burdens you held, and your dark secret.
But of course no one knew that.
No one knew that the famous singer had sold her soul to have a taste of her dream.
No one knew that as quick as she lit up the stage, that she would never grace it again.
It was the last night of your tour; the last night of freedom.
You wanted to scream and cry, beg that you never gave up this feeling.
But a deal’s a deal, and you always kept your word.
You had smiled at all the wonderful people you had grown to appreciate and thanked them.
You sat on the floor of an empty hotel room, two bottles of alcohol empty,  a third in your hand as you stared at yourself in the floor-length mirror.
You closed your eyes, the last thing you wanted to remember was how happy you’ve been for the past year.
—————————————————————————
It was too quiet. 
You had waited for the moment when the floor split open and swallowed you up.
For the red demon to pop up out of nowhere and kill you, take your soul and can it in a jar.
Your body buzzed at the thought.
Alastor.
The demon wasn’t as scary as you had thought bitch you fucking lie .
He wasn’t what you had expected of a demon…yes he was scary as shit and probably would kill you.
But he didn’t.
He wouldn’t.
Your panties grew damp at the thought of those red glowing eyes, cunt clenching around nothing at the memory of his fingers working your smoldering heat.
Your eyes drunkenly casted onto the necklace that Alastor had given you.
Ill always keep close watch Alastor’s voice rung in your head.
In your drunken state, you must have thought of it as some sort of rebellion. You parted your thighs, hand slipping between your thighs and rubbing at the heated mound.
Eyes watching yourself in the mirror, a soft moan passed your lips as your fingers flicked and pressed down on your aching clit. 
“Haaaa fuuuccck” you hissed, bringing your other hand to palm at your heavy tit, pinching at your perky nipple.
Your administrations had you panting as you rapidly thrusted your fingers inside you, hips wiggling as your approaching orgasm warmed your body. Your toes curled and you threw your head back “A-Alastor” you whispered, teeth clenching as you clenched around your fingers.
so close. You were so close.
But something was missing.
Your orgasm was trying to wane,  no matter how much you rubbed at your clit.
Nononononononononono!
A large warm body manifested behind you, long arms wrapping around you, hands replacing yours, as sharp teeth nipped at your shoulder.
”Hello my dear” 
——————————————————————————-
Hahahaha i know you guys hate me lol! Stay tune for the last part, it will be posted soon!!!!!
@thewinchestah @catherine1206 @stygianoir @jellibean2018 @markster666 @strawberrypimp666 @3verlark @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @alastwhore666 @gojosaturos-wife @tojirights @polytheatrix @dennsfz @horrorartsworld @prosciuttosblog @yourdoorisunlocked @dievia3 @alastorsdarling @t0byisher3 @mneferta @purplecatsandhearts @alishii @okay-babe @danveration @absurd-ash @peachedtv @simphornies @fatnug @alastorsdear @alastwhore666 @stawberrypimpsimp @altruisticalastor @queenariesofnarnia @scaramoochiie @rradio-static @someonethatsnotimportantplshelp @squeekycheesecurd @squixythebee @catmunist @lbcreations-blog @coleisyn @bratty2bunny @v0xsw1fe @alstorloml @fizzled-phoenix @siiv3r @k1y0yo @yunimimii @wisteria-seal @kassa-stardust
394 notes · View notes
autisticlancemcclain · 3 months
Text
fic rec friday 61
hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.
Autistic Lance (Voltron) [series] by dontthinkiwont
"Look, okay, I get it, I like peanut butter, you like sharks. It's a thing, whatever. But seriously, dude - what the fuck?" - Or, Lance has Autism Spectrum Disorder and this can cause him to fixate on some things. Like, maybe, for instance, great white sharks. For example.
yes i like this series for projection reasons. whatever. it was also one of the first autistic lance fics out there!! and its v heavy in platonic relationships yall are gonna love it
2. Revelations and Reactions by @azapofinspiration
Keith couldn't believe it. He was part Galra. That was hard enough to deal with... But then he realized that he would have to tell the rest of the team. He couldn't help but fear how they would react. In which Keith reveals that he's part Galra after facing the Blade of Marmora's trials.
azap truly never misses. they KNOWWWW how to do found family like a CHAMP and i will never get tired of reading canon corrections where keith is like. loved and accepted lol
3. A Memory Like a Snapshot by MemeKonVLD
Pidge is still close —closer than is entirely comfortable if he has to be honest— giving him an evaluating glance. Lance doesn’t really know where to look, other than up her nose— but that grows old pretty fast. So he looks at himself in the reflection of her glasses. And squints. He touches his own face for the first time since waking up— and feels the roughness of his chin. “I have stubble,” he says, and the words are as alarmed as they can be even though they still sound slightly slurred, slightly off. Pidge blinks a couple of times at him, and finally retracts into a more comfortable distance. “Well, yeah,” she says. “You are like, what? 22? 23 in a couple of months?” “I’m feeling— I’m feeling a little queasy,” he says then, with bright spots of color dancing in front of his eyes as he thinks 22. Suddenly, a bucket gets shoved against his face. He takes hold of it with clammy fingers and he leans on his side so he can... use it. Thoroughly. “I’m having Garrison flashbacks,” he hears Pidge say.   (Or: Lance is stung by an alien bug, loses his memories temporarily and makes assumptions about his and Keith's relationship. Also, Pidge cheats at Uno.)
losing your memories. and waking up. and someone treats you so kindly and lovingly that you know, immediately, in the bones of you, that they love you. and the feeling in your chest even if your brain doesnt remember of love for them tells you clearly that this person is your soulmate. i am going to LOSE IT
4. Love in the Times of (Intergalactic) War by MemeKonVLD
Lance: Oh, man. [I see him grow visibly excited here, leaning forward and putting his hands up— he’s big on gesticulating, as anyone who’s watched the pilots of Voltron host SNL a couple of months ago knows.] Space is vast. I know that’s not groundbreaking knowledge there, and everyone’s somewhat aware of it, but— being up there? traveling around space for years, and knowing we never even— we never even came near to touching upon a tenth of what’s out there? That’s cool, weird and scary all in one.
WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT 2016 FICS. HUH. ICONIQUE?? AMAZING??? SHOWSTOPPING?? INCREDIBLE??? bc pov outsider is the BEST and watching how much lance SHINES to anyone who looks at him...yeah
5. Skin by MemeKonVLD
He’s aware of Lance talking to him, but he’s still too asleep to try to decipher whatever it is he’s blabbering about. He only starts paying attention when one of Lance’s hands goes to the drawstring of his pajama pants. “Whoa, what are you doing?” He asks, slapping Lance’s hand away, cheeks warm. “You,” Lance starts, pointing at him (and Keith notices that for all he’s made fun of him for the last forever for them, he’s wearing his fingerless gloves), “are not screwing up my skin care routine, man.” (AKA: the one where Keith and Lance switch bodies.)
suave keith and flustered lance my BELOVED. swapped bodies truly has to be one of the top ten tropes of all time. love watching them be in love and also stupid
that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!
175 notes · View notes
strongheartneteyam · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
Realize where you belong.
Pairing: neteyam sully x female!dreamwalker!reader/female!human!reader
Chapter 5
CW: dubious consent, mentions of NON CON, neteyam yearning for reader, angst all over, you can see the sexual tension with your naked eyes, possessive neteyam, feelings of general and sexual confusion, mentions of sexual fluids, talks of being sexually aroused, sexual content, tsaheylu is mentioned, reader is still scared of Neteyam but she longs for him too, fear kink (if you squint), mentions of blood, size kink (if you really squint), primal [hunter/prey] kink (if you squint HARD), crying, strong language, the word "harassment" is mentioned, MAY BE TRIGGERING to some people, mentions of exophilia, indecisive reader, heartbroken Neteyam, heartbroken reader. Please, tell me if I missed anything important!
I slept a lot during the day yesterday and was up until late with my bf having dinner, watching YouTube etc and, when he went to sleep, I was restless, still didn't feel like sleeping so, I decided to edit and finish this chapter that was being kept in my Docs for way too long, it was getting dusty 😂 So, I might have stayed up until morning in the zone editing and finishing this 👀 I'm REALLY sleepy and exhausted rn, so, if some parts of this chapter don't really make sense, try to have empathy for my poor tired being and forgive me <3 I'm aware that I'm a hot mess who has insomnia and needs to get a grip and not put her art above healthy sleeping habits but what can I do? I'm one of those chaotic artists who have a hectic, unstable life and feel the most alive when they're immersed in their craft, running away from their problems, pouring their whole soul into their works 🤷🏻‍♀️
Not proofread. Me. too. tired. 💤  I'll do it ASAP! hope you guys like this. 🤍😘 comments will ALWAYS be incredibly appreciated.
Tumblr media
Chapter 4
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
From lashes to ashes and from lust to dust
In your sweetest torment I am lost
And we sense the danger but don't want to give up
It's heartache every moment, from the start 'til the end
It's heartache every moment with you
Heartache Every Moment (HIM)
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
You stared at Neteyam, at his big face, covered with stripes and fascinating bioluminescent freckles, leaving unique patterns all over his blue skin.
Even though he was kneeling down, doing everything he could to seem smaller and not so scary, to make you feel less intimidated by his size, his face was still way above your eyes, you still felt your neck hurt a little when you had to look up - straining your muscles, already sore from working too much - to gaze at his eyes.
"Oh, paskalin" (honey) "I could make you feel so good, you don't even know..." he was now even closer to you - you didn't even think it was possible but there he was, his massive frame making you feel smaller than ever. Fear of him snapping at you, in case you did something that didn't please, and hurting you was taking over your mind. You didn't know that Omatikaya boy, how could you trust him? "Give me a chance, be my mate and lemme show you how much pleasure I can give you, how I can make you feel safe and fulfilled in my arms after we make love. Like no fucking human male could ever do. Not like I would." Neteyam's fangs got prominent at that moment, and you could tell he was restraining himself from hissing at the thought of a human man having you in his arms. God, that had a name...
"Obsession." you thought
Despite those horrible feelings you were experiencing, his foreign accent still sounded weird but strangely fascinating to your ears, simultaneously. You hated yourself for feeling drawn to Neteyam, even though he was clearly stepping over your limits. You didn't know if maybe it was a na'vi courtship behavior for the male to get this close to the female, even if she hadn't shown any signs of wanting him to. But Neteyam wasn't exactly courting you, you thought. It was more like... straight up harassment, at least in human culture.
Your breath became heavier inside your oxygen mask when you thought about him using his fangs to draw blood from your skin in case you were able to be fast enough to go past where he was kneeling down next to you, and, tried to run away. With his incredibly slender, toned legs he could easily catch up with you in a millisecond and grab you, being free to do whatever he wanted to your small, defenseless human body. That thought made you feel like someone was knotting your intestines tight.
"Eywa... You're just so fucking pretty, even in this demon form, that I... I wanna do to you, right now, all I've been dreaming about, since I first saw you and you made my blood run hotter through my veins, such a fire you ignited inside me, syulang..." (flower)
Neteyam's breath was so heavy once out of his nostrils, clouding your mask, like he's controlling his urges, trying to hold back from touching you. You felt your knees weaken, fear and tension being the reasons why.
"Y-you don't want me, Neteyam. Not really. You just think you do. You're only intrigued by me because I look different from the girls you're used to. The na'vi girls." You didn't know how but you dug deep inside your chest and found the courage there to say that, looking into the alien's eyes.
Neteyam chuckled faintly, air coming out of his nose, in disbelief
"How can you say such thing, hì’i?"
"Hì..hì?" You tried to pronounce what you had just heard, in vain. You had no idea what that na'vi word meant. It's not like you knew that much of the na'vi language, anyway. You only knew the basic stuff that you had to study and learn to be able pass one of the tests that would determine if you were ready to get an Avatar body from the lab
"Hì'i." He corrected you, smiling wide and laughing quite a bit. "You're so silly and cute. Hì'i means "small in size" in my people's language. You are small, in this current physical form. But, let's talk about what's most important: what makes you think I don't really want you?"
"Because I am a demon to you, as you said. I am a human girl, not a na'vi girl." you said, rage slipping through your eyes. Why the hell was that crazy na'vi guy calling you a "demon", saying that he wants you sexually and calling you pet names, all at once?
"But you have an Avatar body. Nothing is preventing you from having your consciousness transferred for good to that body. If my father did it, so can you." The alien said, full of confidence. You wondered if he was going insane.
"And what makes you think I wanna do it?"
“My tawtute," (human) "I can smell you. I know you want me too. You're wet for me. Don't forget my senses are way sharper than what you're used to" Neteyam smiles calmly while enjoying the way your scent hit his nostrils. You felt your face flood with color, so much blood going directly to that part of your body as you felt incredibly embarassed when you heard those words. You had just realized your panties were soaked. "And, I'm sorry, but I have to tell you… Your juices smell so fucking delicious. You're driving me insane right now, yawne. I think that, at the end of the day, becoming my mate and making tsaheylu with me wouldn't be such a horrible experience for you."
Your thoughts cursed at you like crazy: "Damn it!! I must be kidding my own self!! Having a slight crush on him is one thing, getting fucking wet for him is something totally different! Do I have a fear kink, a rape kink or am I just into freaking exophilia?! For real, girl... There's gotta be something extremely wrong with you for you to be this turned on by the thought of this alien guy taking you by force."
"You're crazy! I'm not gonna be your mate! Just fucking let me go!" You wondered if you had just lost your mind to say and do that to Neteyam, being currently in your human body (if you were Dreamwalking it would obviously be safer) but you couldn't take all that was happening at that moment anymore. Your heart was beating too fast, like you were about to have a cardiac arrest. It was too much. You were overwhelmed.
You caught Neteyam off guard, the words you shouted stinged him so hard it left his very heart wounded, the muscles throbbing in pain. You noticed he seemed hurt, the sides of his mouth curled down faintly and his cat like ears were pointing towards the ground.
You felt bad for hurting his feelings. Even though he was disrespecting you, there was still enough empathy inside you to make you feel bad for making him suffer. You did not enjoy hurting people.
You inhaled and exhaled, trying to calm your nerves and, finally, you said:
"Look, I don't mean to be rude, even though you honestly deserve it. There's no excuse for what you're doing. You can't force me to be your mate. I'm not even na'vi! And don't start with that "You have an Avatar body" thing, please!" You breathe in deeply and let the air out slowly "I'm not your dad and I don't intend to follow his steps. I know very well I could die if I tried to go past Eywa's eye. Even if I wanted to get my consciousness transferred forever to my Avatar form, it's too damn risky. Plus, what makes you think I'd ever do it for you? I barely know you." You sighed, exhausted from it all. "Let me go back to my room. Please…?"
Neteyam looked tired and he was starting to feel defeated, like a soldier fighting in the front lines of a war who was losing his stamina after shooting way too many enemies in a very short period of time.
"I just wish you could…" it's like the words felt too rough against his throat, like it was too hard to talk at that moment "... could see that I won't hurt you." He sighed again "I know it feels weird and I'm big and scary, like you say…" His heart hurt at the reminder of your tough words "But I promise you - and I take promises very seriously. My parents taught me to do so, ever since I was old enough to understand their words - I would never lay a finger you." The expression on his face looked utterly serious, like he truly meant it. "Ever."
"You're hurting me with your actions, your words... the way you talk about me, about my body. I don't know about your culture, but it's pretty disrespectful in mine. I feel violated. I do think most of what the human race considers right or wrong is just bullshit, dumb society rules made up by even dumber people. But I have to agree with them on this one." You said
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, hì’i tawtute." (small human) Neteyam looked down at the floor and there was shame all over his face
"Opening my window for you was a mistake."
Neteyam looked at you with eyes filled with sadness
He got back on his feet and stepped away from you, staying now arguably a good amount of steps away from where you were standing.
"Please, don't say that…" Neteyam pleaded with tears in his eyes
"I'm sorry. I have to go."
༊⁀➷
Once you got back to your room, took your oxygen mask out of your face on autopilot and closed the window, you stared for a while at Neteyam's oddly tall figure, still standing in front of your room.
You looked at him and your heart broke. He looked so hurt. His big yellow irises shone insanely in the dark of the eclipse. But his eyes were tainted with tears. His dark braids fell onto his shoulders perfectly. He was incredibly beautiful. But why could you only let your guard down when he was away from you? When you were behind a glass and he was standing on the other side? It broke your heart to do that. But you also knew he was being too much. Too eager. Stepping over your limits and making you uncomfortable. But what if that was just his na'vi nature? You had heard before that the na'vi were humanoid but still animalistic. Maybe it was just… his primal instincts to find a mate. You wondered if maybe you were being too harsh on him. But you still felt like you could not and should not trust him. Even though you wanted to. 
You watched him walk away, his shoulders pointing downwards, his posture showing he knew he had lost that battle.
You wondered if he would come back or if he would give up on you. You felt so idiotic. Why did you want him to come back? He was not treating you the way he should be, with respect for your boundaries.
You felt so confused. There was a lump in your throat. You felt like you were about to cry too.
Your hands were cold and you were feeling anxious and your chest was filled with angst. You wanted to scream Neteyam's name and ask him to come back.  But you did not. You knew you shouldn't. It could awake someone. It could be dangerous. You should not trust Neteyam, you kept repeating in your mind.
Your feet started to move, almost as if they did it on their own, because it felt like your mind was somewhere else, like your brain was occupied with something else other than sending a message to your feet and tell them to take you back to your bed. You were lost in your thoughts. Dazed as hell. 
Once you laid on your bed and covered your body with the warm sheets, you felt a sinking feeling of sadness and guilt bruising your chest. Hot, painful tears streamed down your face and the lump in your throat intensified. Why were you crying? And why were you thinking about Neteyam Suli while you cried?
You wondered if he could imagine that you were now crying, just like he was when he left.
༊⁀➷
Taglist:
@kitsunefirewail @tumblingdevils @a-blog-name-2003 @xylobee @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @henhouse-horrors @lala-1516 @xylianasblog @samistars @crazy4books1 @explosiongamora @lik0 @your-girl-mj @darktyrantwinner @sereisstuff @yeosxxx @die4niyahhh @iman-lu @manumanulau @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @hana-yuri @thehoneymushroomhealer @melllinaa @annaibansworld @siriuslysmoking @avatar4eva @ellabellabus07 @badbishsblog @neteyamsmate4life
432 notes · View notes
Note
*TW*
Hello!!! I absolutely love platonic yanderes with teenage reader so can I ask for a fic where the teen!reader is basically a traumatized being. They have experienced hell throughout their life from mental abuse to physical abuse. Like I mean, they have gotten in many dangerous situations which ended up with police involved (kidnapped, assaulted, murder attempt). Ofc the reader never really did anything wrong, they were just an innocent child till everything went downhill. They don't have any family members left leading them to stay at an orphanage. Anddd you could say the orphanage people aren't the nicest. And their mental health has become so fucked up that they had attempted suicide.
You don't have to do this if ur uncomfortable ofc. Sorry about how triggering the request might be
On the roof
Self-Aware! Platonic! BSD Cast x GN! Teen! Traumatized! Reader
Description: You are on the rooftop in the middle of the night.
Trigger warning: Suicide attempt. Abuse. Child abuse. Kidnapping. Assault. Attempted murder.
List of Suicide hotline numbers can be found here and here.
Warning: One swear word. English is my second language.
__________________________________
You silently opened the door, that leads to the roof of an orphanage. With your phone in hand, you take a few steps forward.
The door closed behind you.
You just stand here. You were silent.
You were here. You wanted to end this.
You sighed and looked around.
Should you just... Go to the edge and jump? It's not like someone would care about you.
You didn't bother with the last note.
No one would care about the reason.
You will simply become a name in documents.
You just wanted to be heard.
You mindlessly looked at your phone.
Should you take it with you?
Or left it here, so someone else would use it?
Your gaze stopped at the "BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan" icon. Will the new owner delete it? Or will continue your progress?
You tapped on the icon. You didn't leave a note.
Yet, you "talked" to BSD Characters so often, that it seems right, to let them hear your last words.
Your reasons.
You opened the Main Menu and choose 'Meeting Hall' option.
The picture of ADA Office appeared. And Chibis of all BSD Characters appeared.
This new option was cute. You liked petting chibis.
All chibis 'looked' at you.
And you finally spoke.
"Mom was strange..."
________
Your mom was strange.
She smelled funny. Like water everyone told you not to drink.
Sometimes, she stared at you. Stared for a long time.
And there were rules.
1. Don't cry.
2. Don't annoy mom.
3. You eat last.
4. If you stayed past curfew, you will sleep outside.
5. Don't tell anyone about your home life.
At least, she let you play outside as much as you want. Mom liked, when you were away from home.
*******
You were five, when you got kidnapped.
That night, you wake up to get some water.
Mom saw you.
In her eyes, you broke a rule.
You were sleeping outside.
One moment you were trying to get comfortable under the porch.
Next moment a man in a mask was dragging you in a van.
Three days.
You were in a dark, scary place for three days.
On a third day you heard two men talking.
"What do you mean, that mother didn't realize, that kid were missing?!"
_____
"Still... Mom paid the ransom. Kidnappers left me. It takes three more days for police to find me..."
____
You were standing near a police officer. And your mom finally arrived to the police station to collect you.
You walked to her, your head was low.
She hit you.
You screamed.
You collapsed on the floor, and your mother bent over you. She hissed and pushed you in the side with her feet.
"Are you satisfied, brat? Get up and go pack your belongings, we’re moving to a shed."
"You should treat your kid more kindly..." the officer grumbled. Your mother squealed.
"Kindly?! This brat had ruined my whole life!” Your mom was mad. She screamed like a fury, jumped in place and gave cowering you blow after blow. You didn’t try to dodge. You just trembled, curled up into a ball.
"Hubby ran away as soon as he gets it inside me! But dear relatives didn’t let me throw it away. They didn’t let me give it to an orphanage! They said that I need to raise this child! They stood up for a little bastard! But now, when I need to pay debt, they are nowhere to be found! They say I play cards too much! I'm just unlucky! Things are not going my way! The house is mortgaged! I poured all my savings into the last card game and won! I would pay off all my debts! And because of this thing, I now have to live in a shed! What will I tell my family now?! What will others say about me?!"
Officer heard enough.
The CPS were called.
_______
"... They were trying to find my father... Until then, grandmother and grandfather agreed to took me in..."
_______
You were six.
Your grandfather sat on the opposite side of the table.
Your textbook and notebook were laying on the table before you.
And your grandfather was talking.
"I finished checking your homework. As I expected, you are a little idiot. A stupid, worthless waste of space. You have made few stupid mistakes. You wrote numbers in a wrong order.
Grandfather opened your notebook. A red paste was covering the page.
2 + 1 = 3 1 + 2 = 3
3 + 1 = 4. 1 + 3 = 4
"So..." Grandfather take a ruler.
"Give me your hand. It will be ten hits for every wrong number."
________
"...it took two year to find my father. He had a family. And I... I was a child from affair. They never let me live it down... For years"
_______
You were nine.
The blow, when it came, took all of your air out of your lungs. You would have fallen if not for your two... "siblings" holding you.
"It feels good, giving a good beating to a dirtbag, right?"
The next hit was in your left eye. You managed to close it in time.
But it will be swollen.
You felt hot breath on your face.
"Your hair is too good for a bastard child."
Your sister brought the scissors up to your hair.
Snip, snip, snip. Cutting right alongside the scalp, sending your hair like leaves swirling to the ground.
Then scissors were plunged into your stomach.
"Die, child of a dirty whore."
______
"...Police was called. They were arrested. But I remained with father and his wife..."
_____
You were twelve.
You were going food shopping. Big bags were heavy, you were tried.
You still need to clean up the house and make dinner.
When you were attacked, because someone tied to rob you, you didn't even care.
You only knew, that, you will be beaten again for being late. And for losing food.
You were long past gone. There were no point in carrying about yourself.
~~~~~~
You were thirteen.
Your father, his wife and you were going to the funeral.
Your father's uncle died.
Now he only has his wife and kids. And you.
He noticed your gaze in a reflection.
He yelled at you for staring.
And he crashed.
You spent three hours in a broken car.
You were the only survivor.
_______
"... I was sent to an orphanage. I am too old to have any chance to be adopted. And I wasn't the only one, who had no chance to have a family..."
______
You tasted dirt and blood. An old rug was thrown over your head, to make it harder for you to fight back.
Someone pressed a knee on the back of your neck and held your face against the ground.
A kick in the side made you roll on your back.
Another person began to push down on your neck with an arm.
You began to struggle, thrashing about with your legs and beating them against the floor, but it was no good.
There were other kids around—at least a dozen of them. One of them would do something. One of them was sure to see that things were taking too far. Your vision began to go fuzzy.
Caretakers saved you only because the noise didn't let them watch TV.
________
"I couldn't take it anymore. I... thank you... Thank you for making me happy... For being the only happy thing in my life."
You finished talking and put your phone on the ground. You stand up and walked towards the edge.
You heard a loud noise. You turned around.
BSD Characters were standing behind you. Real.
And you were still standing near the edge. You were silent. Nikolai lift his overcoat and put his hand into the portal.
His head reappeared near you. You jumped away. Now you were even closer to the edge.
"No... I... I don't want to... Don't come closer..." whispered you. You took another step. You were almost here.
"[Y/N], if you go back, I will give you a hug!"
You froze and turned around.
Kenji Miyazawa made a step forward. He opened his arms, offering a hug.
"I promise, I will give you a hug. Come here... You really need a hug."
You trembled. You moved towards Kenji.
Step. After step. After step.
Kenji was standing here. Offering a hug.
You launched yourself forward, wrapping your arms around Kenji. He immediately hugged you back.
You cried. For the first time in years.
In a few minutes, you were in a middle of a large group hug.
________
You are fifteen.
You are living with your family.
You still have a long path to recovery.
And you are not alone.
BSD Cast will stay with you.
And will make sure, that you will never be hurt again.
151 notes · View notes