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#so unless they move the haunts are staying
wolfpawzjakey · 3 days
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The ghost of Jason who decides to stay with Percy.
kinder, but still creepy - your lover's ghost doesn't want to kill you or hurt you, he just wants to be with you, even if by all laws he is supposed to be in hades.
Percy always feels Jason - a fleeting touch on his cheeks, shoulders and arms, a light breeze or a draft walking in his apartment, the way the electricity hums, a shadow too human to be a play of light that is always next to him, the feelings of familiar but cold hugs at night.
Percy has watched horror movies, he knows what to do... but he doesn't want to part with Jason either, and neither does Jason with him.
Oog anon, this one.
I was thinking about ghost Jason recently. In many ways and senses. I like this idea a lot.
Jason’s ghost haunting Percy, and Percy really struggles with it. A memory of his dead lover, a memory of something he could’ve changed if he had just been there, prophecy be damned. It wasn’t his fault, but to him it was. Having Jason surround him as a ghost, always there, leaving his body cold and shuddering as he laid beside Percy, was an unending mental battle. Jason was attached to Percy, stuck to him with a tie that he couldn’t break and Percy had to struggle to find comfort in the sharp and stark anguish he felt by having Jason here again. Because he couldn’t mourn properly while having his dead boyfriend follow him around, he couldn’t mourn properly when he noticed how the wind would caress him gently or the electricity in his house would flicker whenever Percy said him name, a reminder of “I am here and will be here forever”. But Percy moves through it, the motions are harder, his days are longer, because Jason is here, he’s with him, in ways that matter but these ways can’t make up for what he’s missing. He finds comfort through Jason’s subtle reminders though, slowly but surely they make him.
The others notice subtle differences about Percy since Jason’s ghost has found him, but Nico is the first to bring it up, because of course he can see Jason, not that Jason’s really paid him much mind, too focused on Percy. Nico warns Percy against allowing Jason’s presence to stay, he knows neither would be happy, but he knows it would only kill Percy, one way or another. And knowing that, Percy doesn’t care, but Jason’s ghost, he shifts solemnly and as usual, wordlessly.
This issue in the air now, Jason has been quieter than usual, Percy’s place is warmer and he doesn’t get to feel the cold presence around him as often, not unless he begs and cries. He’s desperate, Jason’s ghost is ill at ease. Jason may be dead, may want with his whole might to be with Percy, but he doesn’t want that by the means of Percy dying as well. He wants to be back with Percy when time says it’s right, not because he’s selfish and not ready to let go and wait that time out. But in the moments he keeps his distance, watching from a point away in the house, where he isn’t sucking Percy’s energy from his body just to be able to announce his present, he can’t help but break his own rules when Percy’s eyes well up with tears. He folds instantly, the contact point between Percy’s body and his incorporeal form buzzing with energy that makes him more powerful, but sucks that power right from Percy’s soul.
The two dance this dance, their wants to be together even after Jason’s death stronger than anything, but Nico puts his foot down for them, Percy looks like hell, he’s exhausted all the time and easily sick. The teen is rough about it all but is easy to give solutions. Sure, these solutions are taxing on him, but he won’t die that’s for sure, and his strength in his power has only been getting better, letting Percy see and speak to Jason on some occasion unless Jason so decides to reincarnate. It’s a save for them both, as uneasy it is to let Jason go, they both go for this. Somehow an easy out but also the hardest thing to do for them.
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I’ve read a few fics of the dead haunting their past lovers in good ways, either visibly or not, I’ve always really liked them. Plus the ability to choose if they stay with their people or move on to the other side it’s so 😭😭😭
Thank you for your ask anon!
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victorluvsalice · 1 month
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-->And then – party time! Smiler’s guests began arriving, starting with Cameron Fletcher and Myra Basu – I put them in Smiler’s group and had them follow them upstairs to keep them out of the way while Victor continued his clean-up. A clean-up made a little more difficult by the next guests to arrive – Brian Pimental (aka the local NAP inspector) was no issue, but Cletus ForgotHisLastName decided to kick over the trash can outside the house before I could get him into the group and direct him upstairs to start dancing to the radio! Hmph! Well, Victor got rummaging as I wrangled the guests –
-->But oh, what was this? A notification that Alice had gotten to Fitness Level 8 on her jog with Shadow, thus completing an aspirational milestone (in fact, straight-up completing the ASPIRATION – Alice now has the “Professorial” trait from Renaissance Sim and can write her own skill books!) and thus her New Year’s Resolution! :D That brought the trio as a whole to two out of three completed! Granted, I didn’t manage to get a shot of Alice actually celebrating completing her resolution because her jog with Shadow was being glitchy (Shadow was doing that thing again where dogs just run ahead for miles and miles in a straight line heedless of obstacles, and Alice kept switching outfits because the game WANTED to put her in her “White Rabbit” party outfit, but she wasn’t technically AT the party, she was in the middle of a jog, so she eventually ended up in just her regular blue Alice dress once I managed to cancel the jog), but I did get a shot of her looking pretty smug in her White Rabbit dress jogging along with Shadow, so I think that’ll do. XD
-->Okay, so Victor and Alice were all set with their New Year’s resolutions – that just left Smiler’s to complete, and that meant throwing a good party! I managed to get Smiler and all their guests up in the party barn area, dancing to the radio, then had Smiler unleash their Party Time party-bot for some extra party vibes. :D They then tried chatting with Cameron (who was not interested in hearing about lycanthropy, it seems) while Victor, done rummaging through the trash, reset the trash can and headed up to the barn to get a chocolate cupcake from Party Time, while Alice and Shadow arrived home, and Alice changed into one of her other party dresses to join the fun.
Leaving her standing in a pile of discarded clothes. Whoops – looks like the family left the laundry for a little too long! XD I resolved not to think about it for the time being and sent her to go join the dancing as Smiler let off a burst of happiness to ensure all their guests were in good moods (like YOU, Cletus) –
-->And then Myra and Cameron wandered off, and local townie Roxanne (who the game has decided is the Valicer farmhouse’s “neighbor”) showed up saying she’d brought a present! Curious, I had Smiler go over to invite her in (bringing some of their guests with them) – things were made a little more complicated by the appearance of specters at the front door, which seemed to temporarily break the whole “handing over the gift” interaction, but she eventually gave Smiler her present – an apple! Which, okay, we have plenty of those, but it’s the thought that counts. XD Smiler accepted it with good grace, and the two became good friends, aww. I was ready to have Smiler chat her up in hopes of getting some plasma off her too –
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llycaons · 2 years
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in hindsight I was extremely burned out on shonen in 2020 because when I watched cql I remember such intense relief that I wouldn’t have to sit through a training montage. like oh they’re already fully trained cultivators. thank god
#he did end up learning another cultivation style obviously but we very pointedly Do Not See it#which remains one of the most haunting and heartbreaking parts of the story. the void where we don't know what he went though#but we only see the hints in the way he talks about#people eating anything if they're hungry enough. or his nightmares even after he comes back from the dead#and he WENT BACK THERE#he went back there! I want to scream#the way wx works so well as h/c because lwj (and all of us) are so desperate to offer comfort/love/food/care to wwx#because he so clearly desperately needs it#it makes me wonder how their relationship would had looked it they'd gotten together under normal circumstances#they'd both still be tied to their sects unless they decide to go rogue but I find it hard to believe for either of them#it would have been hard to maintain...but if they did it I think it would have been very sweet and lowkey#and it couldn't happen until their mid-late 20s. lwj had a lot of stuff to work through#maybe he would have confessed earlier but they were both messess as teenagers#but yeah I actually think lwj would have found it easier to leave his sect that wwx would even given lwj's loyalty and love for CR wwx was#Indebted to the jiangs and jc and myu would not have wanted to see him leave#maybe jfm would have encouraged him? but wwx might not have wanted to leave jc#hmm. I think actually lwj and lxc/lqr would have stayed much closer as well#in a world without the war it's hard to see them living that life where they're able to be together and not in their respective sects#UNLESS the jiangs and lans both agree to a marriage but lwj would have had to move to LP#aww that could be sweet. he and jc have no reason to fight#maybe he likes the lakes#cql txp
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mystra-midnight · 5 months
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Holy Roar
summary: eddie watched your face—the way your mouth twisted and tears dripped from the corners of your eyes because of the over stimulation. he listened to your wild breaths and felt how your body begged for mercy while your soul screamed for more, more, more.
tags: 18+ only. unprotected sex; p in v. praise kink. pet names; good girl, sweet girl, baby. overstimulation. mentions of squirting if you squint. teeth-rotting fluff. eddie being a simp for his girl. soft!eddie but also hints of mean/dom!eddie.
w/c: 2.3k
a/n: eddie might not be religious but he's pretty sure heaven is between your thighs. requested by anon, thank you so much. <3 i needed a reason to be sappy and sweet today after all the drama going on. also, for the record. this was meant to be a drabble but evidently i have no self control.
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Eddie Munson wasn't religious, but he did believe in heaven.
He'd swear up and down that he'd seen heaven, and no one had been able to convince him otherwise. The truth was, when he was buried in the tight warmth of your pussy with your arms wrapped around him, he could hear the sound of angels singing. It was a beautiful melody, a crescendo that rang in his ears and brought him to tears.
When he was with you, wrapped in the velvet embrace of your walls, his face hidden against the slope of your neck, the world would melt away. Nothing else mattered in those moments. He wasn’t alone, and he wasn’t a freak; he was just Eddie, and you were just you, and when he moved in you, the holy dark moved too.
And when you came, trembling and twitching beneath him, with pretty moans and whimpers pouring from your kiss-bitten lips, it was like he was born again. When he watched your features twist with rapture, he saw the world through brand new eyes—eyes that were filled with the vision of only you, an angel come to life beneath him, your holy light shining so brightly that he wasn’t sure you were real.
He often had to remind himself that you were.
Sometimes Eddie had to pinch himself just to convince himself that you weren't a beautiful, haunting illusion about to slip through his fingers. It was why he touched you with greedy hands at every opportunity. He touched you because he could, gripping the fat of your thighs, the curve of your hips, the pudge of your stomach, your tits, your cheeks, and your hands.
He was never cruel. Firm, yes; mocking, sometimes, but he could never hurt you. Eddie would hold you with strong hands that never stilled unless he was pounding into you, forcing unholy moans from your pretty mouth.
And unless he was kissing you, his tongue in your mouth, twirling and dancing with yours, he couldn’t stay silent. Eddie loved to whisper sweet nothings in between searing kisses. He would growl in your ear while carving his way to your guts. He would babble mindlessly as he chased his orgasm, fucking you through one, then a second, and then a third.
Some nights he was wild and untamed, whereas others he was kind and gentle.
No matter what, it was always a religious experience.
And tonight was no different.
Eddie had you on your back with your hands pinned above your head; he was holding both of your wrists in one of his larger hands. Your legs were around his waist, and the heels of your feet were pressing into his backside to draw him deeper as he rolled his hips and found that sweet spot that made you sing. Tears ebbed at your lash line, and he chased each one that fell with an eager tongue.
It was a cool evening in Hawkins, Indiana. Sometime past ten, a light rain had settled over the town. Eddie could hear the pitter-patter of droplets as they hit the roof of the caravan, the slide as they cascaded down the awnings, and the splatter as they hit the ground. The window was open, and a cool breeze was playing with the curtains, leaving his sweat-slicked skin goosepimpled.
“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he murmured. His voice was rough and heavy with lust. “Can’t believe you’re mine,” he continued, mumbling the words against the slope of your neck, where he scrapped his teeth over your racing pulse. You arched beneath him when he dragged a ringed hand down your body, cruising from your throat to your chest, where he paused to brush a thumb over your peddled nipple before tugging on it a little meanly.
He listened to the way your breath hitched and the needy moan that tumbled past your lips when he moved his hand lower to the apex of your thighs. Eddie Munson was a simple man who loved you in this state—cock-drunk and floating in the clouds.
He loved to watch you come undone for him. He loved the way your back would arch, the way your muscles would tighten and flex, how you pulled him in and pushed him away when the pleasure mounted, and the way you couldn’t seem to get enough air while riding each orgasm. He couldn’t get enough of you; he was addicted to you.
“Bet you’re sensitive, baby.” Eddie said, gliding his pointer and ring finger on either side of your clit, which was still buzzing from the last orgasm he’d pulled from the depths of your soul. He felt you twitch beneath him, heard the sharp intake of breath, and heard the muffled whine that escaped your pretty mouth. “But look at you—still s’fucking wet. You’ve soaked the sheets, girl. But you're gonna cum again, aren’t you? Good, I need to hear those pretty sounds.”
He posed it as a question, but he wasn’t asking. Eddie took advantage of your delirious state, licking a long, wet strip up the column of your throat and moaned deeply as he savoured the sweat-slicked taste of your skin. Eddie didn't care that you were sweaty, that you were dishevelled, or that you were making a mess of his sheets. He cared that you were here and that you were beneath him.
He watched your face as he rolled his hips, his cock piercing through your velvet walls and his balls slapping against your ass as he drove deeper. Your lips parted in a perfect 'o', and you squirmed, straining to close your legs only to find his slim waist holding them open as a familiar heat sparked to life between your hips.
“I can’t.”
He said the words with you, as he already knew that you would say them. Eddie Munson was a menace that ruled your life, and you were a marionette on a string, so sweet and eager to please him. He could play you like a fiddle. He knew what words built you up and which ones sent you tumbling down again. As though to prove this, he circled his fingers around your clit, slick with arousal, left, then right, then spread them again, trapping your clit between his fingers with just a hint of pressure.
You keened loudly, throwing your head back and exposing your throat—an invitation that he quickly accepted. Eddie smeared hot, wet kisses along your skin, listening to the whimpers and whines that spilt from your lips as he rubbed your nub, enjoying the way you tugged at your wrists and writhed beneath him. “S’too much, Eddie. Eddie, please, please.”
You sounded so pretty when you begged; your voice was breathless and ethereal as you begged for something you couldn't decide on. Mercy or more—you didn't know.
But he did.
"You can," he replied. Eddie buried his face against your neck, his hot breath balmy against your skin, as he nuzzled his nose below the curve of your jaw before sucking a dark mark into your skin. "Just one more, I promise, baby, then I'll let you rest." It was the devil's lie, one that came easily from his tongue.
Eddie Munson was an addict, and you were his drug of choice. In truth, he knew that he would be going to hell, so he was going to enjoy heaven while he could. He kissed you without warning. Hard, slowly, thoroughly, just because he could. It made you moan and made your toes curl.
“Need you to cum again—fuck—just one more, that’s all I want."
“Mhmm, okay,” you whimpered, high-pitched and breathless, as he moved his fingers in tight circles around your nub, switching direction once, then twice. And then he moved. Eddie sat back on his haunches, threw your legs over his shoulders, and pulled you closer so that he could drive deeper, until you felt him in your lungs.
Your obedience and willingness made him smile. Eddie licked your calf, his teeth scraping teasingly at your ankle. Your pussy clenched hotly around his aching length. "You're such a good girl, aren’t you? S’fucking pretty, s’fucking sweet. Fuck, I love you,” he rambled, lost in the moment. The taste of you swimming in his mouth and the sight of you flooding his eyes were too much for him to bear.
You were beautiful; an angel trapped it in a rhapsody of pleasure—all his. Eddie pulled out slowly, your velvet heat clutching at his cock. He watched with wide and wondrous eyes as your hole clenched and winked at him, but it was the combination of pre-cum and slick dripping from you—the way it slid down the crack of your ass and joined the mess you'd made of the sheets—that broke his resolve.
The groan that clawed up the back of his throat was something feral and all-consuming, calling to something buried inside of you. Your answering whine was desperate. Eddie grabbed your jaw, his thumb dragging over your lower lip, so that he could watch the blissed expression in your eyes as he filled you again, hard and to the brim. "Look at you, girl, so cum-drunk that you're leaking on my cock. My pretty, perfect girl."
Time began to slow down. Heat slithered like a snake through your veins, slow to start as it set your body aflame, and then faster, striking with venom and fangs until your eyes rolled so far back that Eddie was sure you'd see your own brain. You were in a trance, and it was no one but Eddie’s fault.
You couldn’t answer him, even if you had wanted to. Each time he fucked into you, his cock spearing through your walls and reaching the depths of your being, the air was forced from your lungs, leaving you breathless and floating higher in the sky. He left a trail of wet kisses along your ankle, lapping at each bite with an eager tongue while he found your mound with the opposite hand, thumb swiping left and right, then, round and round, your clit.
The piston of his hips didn’t slow when you pushed against his abdomen, nails scratching the surface of his skin as though you wanted to burrow beneath it and live there. Eddie watched your face—the way your mouth twisted and tears dripped from the corners of your eyes because of the over stimulation. He listened to your wild breaths and felt how your body begged for mercy while your soul screamed for more, more, more.
“Too much, Eddie,” you gasped, all breathless and sweet. Eddie smiled down at you, a beautiful lopsided grin that had the snake in your veins pulling tighter. It was so tight now that you thought you might die—that your bones would break and your heart would give. But the look in your eyes—that sly come-hither stare—told him you needed that release almost as much as you needed to breathe.
"You're going to be a good girl and cum for me, yeah? You're squeezing my dick so tight, baby, you're going to fucking break it.” Eddie chortled. Sweat beaded on his brow, dripped from his nose, and landed on your chest as he bent to brush his mouth against yours. Your legs fell from his shoulders, knees coming to rest in the crook's of his arms as he shadowed over you like a perfect machiavellian devil.
His lips smashed against yours in a kiss made entirely of tongue, teeth, and saliva. It was messy, sloppy, and desperate, leaving a string of saliva connecting your lips when you finally parted. Eddie was lost, chasing his own release that was hurtling towards him like a semi with its brakes cut.
And then it happened, all at once and without warning.
One moment you grabbed at him, clawing at his back and pulling on his hair, and then you were breathless, your limbs locked and your head thrown back. It was like the sky split open and a bolt of lightning speared through you, connecting with that sweet spot Eddie was abusing, only to arch throughout your body. You came screaming his name, and it was the sound of heaven, and he rejoiced.
"You're so good to me, sweet girl," Eddie said. His lips left a trail of blistering kisses from your chin, down your jaw, and to your neck, where he hid his face against your sweat-slicked skin. His breath was wild and balmy as he panted against your skin. His muscles twisted and knotted as the force of his impending orgasm grew. "I'm going—fuck—I'm going to marry you. I'm going to put a ring on your finger and buy you a fucking house."
And he meant it. If there was one thing on God's green earth that Eddie Munson was completely and irrevocably certain about, it was you. He was going to make you his wife. He was going to give you his name. He was going to give you his kids.
He felt you grab him again, your nails reclaiming their position on his shoulders as the world started to fade into background ambience. A haze overcame his vision, glowing orange from the fire raging within him. And then the tension in his body broke, ricocheting through him with the force of a hurricane.
Eddie speared through your walls one last time before settling deep within you, so deep that you could feel him pressing against the back of your throat. His weight above you was like a weighted blanket that is smothering but comfortable. It kept you grounded while you ride the coattails of your orgasm. Eddie came with a guttural groan, his abdominal muscles flexing as he filled you with thick ropes of his seed.
Seconds slid into minutes before he withdrew and collapsed to the bed at your side. The sheets were a mess at the foot of the bed, and the sound of the rain was louder now. The room smelled like sweat, sex, and fresh rain. You were both quiet as you floated through the clouds, content to lay side-by-side and let the silence bloom. There was nothing either of you had to say—the moment was already perfect because, while Eddie Munson wasn't religious, he did believe in heaven.
And with you, he felt born again.
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tags: @hideoutside
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dcxdpdabbles · 8 days
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Could you write something where Danny is a teen dad to de aged Ellie? Bonus points if he lives in Crimr Alley and beats the Joker to a pulp for hurting his kid
Danny is trying his best.
It's not easy being a father at age sixteen. It's not easy having to leave his home in fear of what his parents will do to his clone-turned-daughter.
It's not easy watching her every day, wondering if her core will break down further, and instead of just de-aging this time, she'll end up dead. It's not easy worrying about her health in the most crime-infested city with a terrible job and relying on his pitiful check or the funds his sister can sneak to him.
But nothing good in this world is easy, and he wouldn't trade Dani for anything. Yes, she had lost her memories and acted like a real two-year-old, but he adored watching her eyes light up as she relearned the world.
Danny loved her to bits, and even buying her those cheap coloring books and crayons from the dollar store made Dani smile brighter than any star. They may struggle to pay rent and bills or buy food, but Danny can always scrape by, keeping her warm, fed, and house.
He worked at three different dinners, each part-time, since none of them were legally allowed to hire him full-time because of his age. Danny didn't have a single day off, but he had a few hours every day with Dani, which was enough.
While he worked, he asked his next-door neighbor to watch Dani. Now, it may not be the best thing to trust a stranger with his daughter but said neighbor is a ghost and one of the friendly kind.
Danny met her when he first moved in. Apparently, her haunting was one of the reasons the rent was so cheap. She never gave him her real name, but she stayed with Dani all day and had enough ectoplasm to physically touch things. Danny could sense her intentions with his core and knew her motherly adoration for Dani was authentic.
Privately, Danny called her Three since she haunted apartment three, and she sort of looked like she stepped out of the nineteen-thirties, complete with an attractive Transatlantic accent. She was an up-and-coming radio co-host, taking a segment to read stories to housewives before being murdered in her home.
Three never said why or how it happened, but she had been haunting the apparent complex for so long; her lore was well documented among the locals.
They say one of the Waynes had killed her after learning that his wife had fancied Three. But it was never proven and it became another theory that the rich would laugh at every once in a while.
(Three's face always twisted whenever she heard the name Wayne. Her hand would always reach up for a heart-shaped locket she refused to take off even in death.)
Since most people couldn't see ghosts unless exposed to ectoplasm for enough time, the stories of her attacks on anyone trying to get close to her apartment snowballed out of control. Danny thought it was unfair how evil they made her sound. Though it's true she had a strong distaste for men, she had a soft spot for children.
Danny had just been through the wringer; he had double shifts, one stacked right after the other. One of the dinners had let two people go after they had been arrested for moving illegal substances, and Danny had to cover until they found a replacement.
A woman had yelled at him for almost thirty minutes straight about a wait time for her surprise party of fifteen. A man threw up on their counter, and to top it all off, a kid had run into him while he was carrying a tray of food, causing him to spill everything.
Thankfully, the mother was horrified and apologized profoundly, but it had been almost too much for him. So when he was sweeping up broken plates and saw Three franticly flying at him screaming about some clown, well, Danny was doing his best.
And his best was fighting things far stronger than he.
____________________________________________________________
Jim Gordon's early afternoon gets interrupted by the Joker only three minutes after he is supposed to head home for the day. After escaping from Arkham a few months ago, the clown went to the ground, and everyone was nervous about what he was planning.
Jim's team hadn't heard any whispers or had any idea what the Joker was up to, which made everything worse. Usually, when something big and wrong was going to happen, they would catch at least one thing beforehand.
That's why the sudden broadcast of the lunatic had everyone jumping out of their skins.
"Good evening, Gotham. I want to welcome you to tonight's show. It's going to be killer." Joker cackles. He has somehow hacked into almost every screen in the city, his white devilish face appearing on TVs, phones, tablets, and even roadside advertising.
His voice echoes through the city as Jim barks at his employees to trace the signal.
"Recently, I felt it necessary to remind everyone that one is never too young to have a funny bone." The Joker continues, holding up a plush toy to the camera. He waves it a little, pressing the ginning bunny as close as possible so people can see its mouth has been sewed into a sickly wide smile. "I'm sure a few of you have noticed that certain school buses never arrived home."
The blood in his veins goes cold. How many buses? Which school? What kids were they? How old? Why had they not heard of the kids not arriving until now?
There are too many questions and nowhere near enough answers. Jim hates how useless he feels playing this sick man's game.
"But not to worry! You'll see your little ones again! After being guests on my very own game show! Every thirty minutes, one lucky child will get to compete for your amusement, and if they survive, they get an extraordinary prize-!"
His words are cut short by a dark figure flinging itself at the Joker and punching him to the ground. Thank every dark cloud in the sky that the Bat was on the case.
"Basty! Have you come to play- wait. You aren't Batsy." Joker's delighted tone melts into anger as the figure straightens to a young teenage boy.
"You have my daughter. Give her back." The teen tells the clown, voice flat and cold. "Three said your goons took her from her balcony."
"My boys take a lot of people." Joker laughs hoping up a flower. With a press of his finger, the teenager is covered in Joker Vemon. Jim's heart falls as the boy stumbles back, rubbing at his eyes. Joker laughs harder until the kid picks up a chair and slams it onto his head.
There wasn't even a chuckle from the boy. Huh.
"You have my daughter. Give. Her. Back."
"Or what?" The Joker taunts, snapping his fingers. There are sounds of people moving, likely the goons. "Kill him."
The boy doesn't seem to react to the men rushing at him. Someone knocks the camera stand over, and the view of the fight is taken away as it rolls on the ground. Thankfully, it ends up pointed at a wall, where they watch the shadows of the teenager and the Joker's goons fight.
It's hard to tell who's winning, with all the shadows blending together whenever they get close, but the fact that he hasn't heard the kid drop yet means he's holding his own. Jim's eyes narrow at the wallpaper, trying to figure out why it looks so familiar.
It hits him just as a little girl phases through the wall. Yes, phases, as if walking through it like a ghost. This would make sense since -
"That's Nightowl Apparemtents!" Ricky, the new cop from Crime Alley, cries, echoing Jim's thoughts.
"It's what?" Asks Sara
"Nightowl apparements. It's the oldest place in Crime Alley and one of the most haunted. They said a lover of a Wayne was killed there. She kills anyone who tries to rent the place. They do ghost tours occasionally, but no one dares to her hallway. That wallpaper is famous because it's the only one in Gotham with the original founding families' symbols." Ricky explains, watching the little girl tilt her head and then start to flout. Everyone shivers as a second figure bleeds out of the wall behind her.
This one is much more blurry, but the faith outline of a beautiful woman covered in blood hovers behind the girl staring at the fight. She's dressed in clothes that Jim is sure was decades ago, and unlike the little girl, she makes him feel very unsafe.
The ghost of Apparement three. Barbara had gone through a paranormal phase when she was fifteen and dragged Jim to all the haunted places in Gotham. Nowhere had made him feel as uneased as Gotham's cemetery- the most haunted place- but those apartments were a close second.
The ghost spots the camera, sneering at it and Jim actually jumps back.
"Oh, gods!" Ricky shouts, turning his head away. "I'm so sorry for looking into your eyes without permission!"
"It's not a telephone! It can't hear you, Ricky!"
"That's not the point, Sara!"
"Daddy!" the little girl cries, holding up her finger. "I got an ow-ow."
At once, the sounds of combat stopped, and then the screams began. It's nothing like Jim has ever heard. He's been on the force long enough to know what a human in pain sounds like, and those sounds—well, he prays that the Joker had decided to bring in animals.
If it makes him sick to his stomach he is worried about the regular people watching.
The little girl doesn't look away, tilting her head to the side like a curious child of two would and still holding her tiny up. After a moment, Jim realizes the screaming has stopped. There is silence before Joker falls beside the girl, beaten beyond recognition.
If it weren't for his purple sit, Jim would have thought him a goon.
The little girl doesn't blink an eye as the teenager rushes to her, kicking the Joker.
"Let me the ow-ow." The teenager demands, taking her hand in his. There is a moment of tense silence as the woman's ghost louts around him with a sneer. "A papercut! You gave my daughter a papercut!"
The ghost woman screeches, rage in every part of her cry. Jim feels his heart beating out of his chest, frozen in absolute terror as she reaches down for the Joker and drags him through the floor.
The man's screams are heard even through the muffled flooring.
"Holy shit," Sara breathes, voice trembling.
"This is why no one with a brain messes with Nightowl's ghost," Ricky hisses, rubbing at his cross. "How that kid go it to attack the Joker and not him and his daughter-"
The teenager gathers the toddler into his arms, his image fading with a hiss.
"-That was a ghost. The teenager that beat the Joker to near death was a ghost." Ricky swallows. "I am never stepping foot down that street again."
Somewhere in Gotham, a woman is sweating bullets after the feed is cut by Batman, who arrives with the rest of the Bats minutes afterward.
"Say, Mom, wasn't that the boy you were yelling at today in Teddy's Diner for Uncle Ron's birthday."
The woman's eyes swing back to the TV, where the waiter's face is frozen on the screen, his green glowing eyes almost staring into her soul. "Yes.....yes it was."
"Oh crud. I think we're cursed now, Mom. Way to go."
655 notes · View notes
abbyromanoff · 6 months
Note
Can I request a top! Jane Banner x fem!reader, with angst,smut and fluff at the end, where, reader is a new police and Jane is her superior & she take a like in reader months later but try to hide it, making reader feel bad then you can do the rest as you want
HATE ME? OR LOVE ME?
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PAIRINGS: Jane Banner x reader
WORD COUNT: 3,220
WARNINGS: smut, love hate relationship, kinda enemies to lovers, angst, Jane hiding her feelings, cunnilingus, pet names, r getting stood up, making out, fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms, top!Jane, fluff, think that’s all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
“That’s the problem, Y/N, you can never do anything right!” The words rang through your mind on repeat. Your superior was the one who spit them, letting her built-up anger rise to the point of overfilling, and you were the one to suffer. You knew she despised you, and if it was up to her, you wouldn’t have been hired in the first place. You didn’t mind, you were used to being disliked throughout your life and came to an acceptance of the fact. And it wasn’t because she was your boss that it affected you so much, it’s because you liked her in ways you shouldn’t like your higher supervisor.
She would watch your every move, each step haunting her mind. You expected it was so she could find an excuse to report you and see you go, but it was really because she just wanted to admire you any chance she had. You wouldn’t understand, which is why she kept quiet. It pained her to see you frown, but she couldn’t let herself get as close as she wanted to. So, instead of remaining neutral, she decided to take her frustration and fill your heart with the hurtful words she’d mutter.
People suggested you report her, but you didn’t want to. You’d rather take the glares than see her separated from you, or even worse, be forced to leave for good. You instead took to ridding yourself of the sleep you needed and thriving on the suffering you enforced, all while she painted your mind. You couldn’t even focus on the comments, only focusing on the beauty that expressed them. That’s what you hated most, that you couldn’t hate her.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but if your other person doesn’t arrive in the next five minutes, we’ll be forced to remove you. Unless you’d like to place your order, that is.” The waiter smiled apologetically, and you guessed he had dealt with this before, a guest being stood up and holding hopes they’d arrive. You were ready to give up and leave with a small apology for wasting their time, that was until you noticed a woman stepping forward.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Jane looked in your direction, her eyes widening at your low-cut dress. You looked so beautiful, just like you always did.
“Y/N, nice to see you here.” You rolled your eyes with a groan, handing the menu to the waiter before standing. She furrowed her brows slightly, nodding the man off as you tried to walk past her, only for her arm to grasp your shoulder in an attempt for you to stay.
“Woah, relax now,” She started. “Where do you think you’re going?” You took a deep breath before turning, eyeing the woman with a clenched jaw.
“Home. Why, you going to follow me there too?” She chuckled, releasing her grip when she realized she didn’t have to force you to stay.
“I just might.” There was a short beat of silence before you blew a breath, getting ready to leave before she repeated her actions.
“Alright, what do you want? I’m off work hours, you can’t keep me.”
“Gosh, don’t be such a fucking bore. You got stood up, so I was trying to do the right thing and ask you if you’d like to join me instead.” You didn’t believe her, there was no chance she had good intentions when it came to you. She hated you, why would she ever want to change that?
“What, so you can make up a lie that you need to pee so I’ll end up being stuck paying the bill?” She remained relaxed, refusing to feed into your annoyance and letting you get a reaction. She got hers already, now you were just dying to get some sort of revenge.
“Look, I know we don’t get along all the time-“
“We never do. Maybe if you weren’t such a fucking dick, I’d actually be willing to strike up a conversation with you.” You stated calmly, and she tightened her grip at your interruption. No one interrupts her, especially when you’re beneath her. But, she let it go past her, maintaining a tense smile as she pointed to her seat. There were only two chairs, either she was on a date or was eating alone. And with her lack of empathy, you guessed it was the latter.
“Well, maybe this is me trying to redeem myself. C’mon, you know we both have nothing better to do. I’m waiting for my mother to arrive, and you’re going home alone.”
“How do you know I’m going home alone? Maybe I’m going home to my wife and kids, maybe I’m going home to my family, maybe I’m going home to my cat-“
“Alright, I get it. If you really have places to go then you wouldn’t have been waiting for your date to show up for half an hour. But, if you really don’t want to, then you can leave.” You debated between your options, dinner with a woman who hated you, or going home to imagine being with the same woman. She’d hold you tight on the couch, kiss your forehead while your legs laid across hers. Her soft giggles showing her whitened pearls. Then she’d kiss you goodnight as she tucked you into bed, joining you soon after and returning her arms to their righteous spot around you.
You blinked twice, trying to register that you were in fact forced to live in the present time when all you wanted was to experience the daydreams you escaped through.
“Fine, I’ll stay. But don’t think I wanted this.” She smirked, letting you sit before pushing your chair in. You saw your previous table being occupied by a happy couple and smiled sadly, wishing you were taking their current places. You didn’t care for the view the seat had, but the one they each held was better than anything.
“Can we get the Le Medoc De Cos wine for the table, please?” You failed to understand how she didn’t miss a single beat, she must be a regular.
“Of course, ma’am, is there anything else I can start the two of you with?” He turned his gaze to you respectfully, and you grinned warmly.
“Uh, I’ll just have a glass of water, please.” He nodded and returned to the back where you assumed he was preparing the carefulness of the wine.
“You don’t order water at a restaurant like this, dumbass.” She scowled while her eyes remained on the menu, occasionally letting her eyebrows lift in a small excitement as she read the ingredients.
“Well, I think we both know I don’t have the funds for the wine you got.” It was true, you were only just starting a few months ago and were still considered young by most, it was nearly impossible for you to make the same as her.
“You’re not paying the bill, don’t worry about prices.” Your eyes widened as you looked at her dumbfounded. She lowered the paper and returned your gaze, making you evert your own slightly.
“We’re cutting this in half, I’m not letting you pay the bill and then use it against me for the rest of my life.”
“Oh my fucking God, will you relax with the assumptions? I’m not that big of a bitch, no matter how much you think I am.”
“I would calm yourself on the language, young lady.” Jane turned to see where the voice came from, only to sigh as her Mother came into view. She gave a tight-lipped smile and stood, giving the older woman a small hug and resting her hands on her arms.
“It’s great to see you, Mom.” She brushed her off, pulling out her chair as your boss was left stranded. She gulped, glancing towards you as you gave a small greeting to the guest. She took your hand with a small shake, something Jane rarely saw.
“Sorry for the intrusion, I’m your daughter's coworker and we happened to be dining in at the same place tonight.” She looked to her child for more description, and you feared you spoke wrong.
“Y/N here got stood up tonight and I thought I’d do the right thing and invite her to eat with us, I hope you don’t mind.” The reminder brought a roll to your eyes before you disguised it with a clearing of your throat, catching the attention of both.
“Oh, not at all! It’s lovely to meet you, dear.” The entire dinner went on with minimal chatting, you started to assume you were intruding on their special night. You grabbed your phone, excusing yourself to the bathroom with shaky hands. You refused to lift your gaze for the entire walk until you reached the door. When inside, you placed your hands on the marble countertop and sighed, letting the tension from the week release. Suddenly, you heard the door open with a small squeak and turned, only to see Jane looking back at you.
“Please don’t leave.” Confusion wrote itself across your face before you chuckled softly, shaking your head in disbelief.
“And why is that?” She licked her lips and bit them softly, knotting her arms together as they laid across her chest.
“I can’t stand that woman and I definitely don’t want to deal with her alone.” She admitted, but you didn’t understand her hatred for her mother. You picked up on the small comments throughout the dinner, but you guessed it was playful nature when she’d give a small laugh in response, only now did you realize they were most likely fake.
“And…I guess I enjoy having you there to, you know, ease the awkwardness.” You were planning on cutting the meal short for yourself, but you understood her request. Even if she was technically using you, you didn’t want her to suffer through something like this, you still cared for her.
“Fine, I’ll stay.” She seemed relieved by your response and rushed forward to greet you in a grateful hug, only to come to her senses moments later.
“Oh, right, uhm- sorry.” She gave you one last smile of appreciation before exiting, returning to her awaiting mother.
“Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, I was just checking in on them.” She took a bite of the food, instantly regretting the action as the heat filled her senses.
“You know, you two make a really cute couple.” Not only was it hot, but now Jane was nearly choking on the steak. She pressed her fist against her chest a few times before clearing her throat.
“Uh, we’re- we’re not dating, Mom.”
“Look, I know you don’t believe in love, and trust me, after your father, I thought I never would either. But, love comes random, you can’t choose who you fall for. Besides, I may be old but that doesn’t mean I can’t spot the sexual tension between you two.” The sudden outburst sent heat waves to your boss's cheeks.
“Mom! There is no sexual tension between us! They hate me, if anything, I’m a complete dickbag to them.”
“Because you don’t want to accept that your dream of being alone forever is fading into something new. So, please, do me a favor and stop being a baby.” She saw you stalking back out of the corner of her eye and grinned as she stood. Jane was still stuck in thought, her forehead creased together as she, once again, started to bite her lip.
“Well, I believe I should be leaving now. It was so lovely to meet you, dear, I know me and my daughter loved your company.”
“Awh, you’re leaving already?” You brought her in for a short hug while she nodded, turning to her daughter to say a short goodbye. You wondered why she didn’t do the same with her as she did with you, but you brushed it off.
“Alright, I’ll ask the waiter for a box, are you saving your food?” Her Mother was now out of the building and you could get rid of your facade. She shook her head as she came back to her senses, your voice filling her ears as they dinged in excitement.
“Why not get a dessert? I mean, we’re already here, no point in leaving yet.” You eyed her with suspicion and she only pestered on.
“Seriously, what the fuck is up with you? Why are you being nice all of a sudden?” Her mother's words rang in her head once again as she got a true, genuine look at you. She always thought you were a heaven-sent piece of artwork, but now you looked ever more angelic. She didn’t know how you did, but you did.
“I just want to get dessert, is that so bad?” You huffed out a breath and examined the menu, your mouth watering at the descriptions. When the waiter came over, he kindly took your requests along with the papers. There was a silence that roamed over the both of you, Jane found it comforting. She knew you probably didn’t feel the same, but being able to have a moment with her thoughts that filled of you was always her peace.
“Dove chocolate cheesecake for you, ma’am,” She smiled in appreciation and took the dish before he turned to you. “And the chef’s special Tiramisu for you, Miss.” You repeated Jane’s movements, leading him to stand over the table with his hands together in front of him.
“Would you or your wife like anything else before I hand over the bill?” You blanked for a moment, chuckling awkwardly to yourself as you glanced up at him.
“Oh, we’re not-”
“Yes, actually. Would we be able to have a refill of their water, please?” You turned to look at her now, tilting your head to the side as she acted oblivious. He nodded and returned shortly with your new glass and the bill. You examined the total with widened eyes.
“The lady with you paid for half already.” He stated before leaving the two of you.
“Why didn’t you correct him?”
“For what?”
“Don’t play dumb, for saying you’re my wife.” She shrugged with a mouthful of her food, leading you to eventually give up and bask in the flavors the dish greeted you with.
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The two of you were walking out of the restaurant, Jane holding the door open for you and leading you to your car. She hoped you parked as far as possible, just so she could get an extra few minutes with you. Her hand longed to interlace with yours, but she held back in fear.
“I hope you enjoyed tonight.” She spoke when you stopped in front of the vehicle she recognized as yours. You nodded with a thin line on your mouth before she said her goodbyes. She turned around with a sigh before stopping herself when she heard your voice.
“Yeah?” She saw you stalking forward, your head down until your body was mere inches from hers.
“I actually did enjoy tonight, thank you for inviting me.” She smiled gently when you lifted your head to glance at her, her impulses failing her as she placed her hands on your hips and drew you in. Her lips touched yours in a soft, searing manner as you sunk into it.
“W-what?” She gulped fearfully, pulling away as your hooded eyes searched hers.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to-” Her words were cut short as you pulled her back in, groaning as her body molded against yours. She placed her hands on your bottom, smiling gracefully as her tongue was granted entrance. She pushed you against the hood of the car, feeling your arms wrap around her neck while your thighs parted enough for her to place her knee between them. You instinctively grinded against the soft skin that greeted you, resulting in a muffled moan to escape.
“Wait-” She furrowed her eyebrows as she rested her forehead against yours, instantly following your request.
“I don’t want to do this here. Will you come home with me?”
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Her slender fingers drew in and out of you in a hurry, her hot breath fanning across your face as you mumbled out pleas. She found her gaze falling to the connection between you two, shuddering as your tight hole accepted a third digit. Your legs wrapped around her form, your chest heaving with every inhale. Your nipples hardened from the gush of wind before a gasp left you, Jane’s wet mouth finding it as her free hand led yours to the neglected breast. You toyed with the hard bud, fluttering your eyes shut as you bit your lip.
“No, let me hear you, baby.” She dreamed of hearing everything you released, she wasn’t going to let that be stripped away from her.
“Jane-” Her name wasn’t her favorite word, but hearing your soft whine made it a blessing to her eardrums. Her clit throbbed in delight, begging to meet yours.
“Yeah?” Her jaw was now resting on your shoulder, her lips right next to your ear as she left pecks down your neck. She hoped they’d leave a mark, just so everyone would know you belonged to her now. But, in reality, you always have.
“Need to cum- fuck! I need it so bad.” Your fingertips came to scratch at her scalp softly, your legs starting to shake the closer you got. Your coil tightened the more you held back, yet it begged to let go.
“I need you, Jane.” The stumbled sentence brought a stall to her movements. She only continued her thrusts when a whine bounced off the walls, the creator being the person beneath her.
“I know, I need you just as bad, darlin’.” She felt liquid spray against her crotch as you cried out, clawing at any part of skin you could grapple onto.
“Oh, God, ‘feels ‘o good!” Your babbles brought a dark chuckle to the woman. She thrived on the fact that she was the reason you were like this. You were no longer crying from her harsh words, you were crying from how good she made you feel.
“No, no, we’re not done just yet,” She informed when noticing you tried squeezing your legs shut.
“Don’t be embarrassed, love, I find it so fucking hot that you squirted for me, makes me so, so wet.” Your cheeks reddened, your eyes unable to meet hers when her finger came in contact with your chin. You hadn’t noticed her pulling out of you, the bliss of the moment being too heavy for your mind to keep track of your surroundings.
“Don’t you taste fucking heavenly?” She forced you to suck the sweet nectar coating her digits, chuckling as you gagged when they hit the back of your throat. You moaned around them, suckling every last drop.
“Spread ‘em, angel,” You whimpered, shaking your head in disagreement. “I said, spread ‘em, you can take another, you will.” You obeyed slowly, feeling her fingers instantly spreading your folds as her tongue came in contact with your sensitive bud.
“More, baby, I want you to struggle.” Her lips instantly wrapped around your clit, the sounds of your juices being evident as she sucked harshly.
“Fuck, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”
900 notes · View notes
inklore · 8 months
Text
roadside delight
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premise: joel should have known you'd be trouble when he found you on the side of the highway. he should have known you'd taste so fucking sweet too.
pairing: joel miller x (f)reader
word count: 1.1k
contents: hitch hiking, set in the late sixties to seventies but please read it however you'd like, unprotected piv, tiny bit of degradation, dirty talk, threats of coming inside, age gap if you want it to be one but i didn't specify, marking.
note: i actually wouldn't mind writing more from this down the road because i love this concept and i'm forever loving this old man.
haunted hoedown day four.
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If Joel Miller had been told this morning that he would end up with a stranger bent against the seat of his old pickup, a moaning mess, and begging him to do filthy things to her: he would have told you to fuck off. 
Would have scowled at them and moved on with his day because he had no interest in whatever nonsense they would have been spewing to him. 
But here he was, this pretty thing moaning into the worn cushion of his seats, your shorts sitting on the floor of his pickup. Your nails gripping his wrist as his fingers dig into your hip as he fucks you hard. 
His name on your lips sounding better than it should, coming from someone he just picked up three hours ago. 
He should have known, just by the look of you. 
Your shorts shorter than any pair he’s ever seen, a leather bag over one arm, the other arm bare and lifted with your thumb held out into the air. The sweetest smile he’s seen in the whole state of California—which he was happily driving out of. 
A happy exit you too were excited to make as he, possibly against his better judgment, pulled over and let you hop up in his truck. Throwing your bag to the floor, the trusting grin on your face making him happy he picked you up and not some fornate creep. 
You were headed to New York. 
“I’m sick of the heat,” you said, trying to start a casual conversation with him. Joel’s habit of being off putting and quiet went unphased by you as you talked his ear off. 
But something told him there was more to the story. 
More about why you were leaving California. Why you were in such a rush to get out that climbing into the car with a complete stranger seemed like more of a promise than it did to just wait and take a bus. The safer option out of the two. 
It wasn’t his business to know unless you wanted to tell him, so Joel did what he did best and didn’t pry. Left it as was and listened to you talk, his eyes softening slightly when you sang along to the radio and his throat tightening when his gaze moved along your exposed thighs. The lack of neckline of your shirt making him grip the steering wheel a little harder to reign himself in. 
Coming off like a creep, let alone ogling a woman, was not his forte. He had been raised with a little more gentlemanly dna inside of him. 
Maybe it was the heat or the way you talked to him as if you'd known him for years instead of less than an hour, or maybe it was the way you knew every song on the radio, the station that never changed in his truck. The station that served him the best comfort and reminded him of home. 
You were a rare breed to him. 
“You ain’t got nowhere to stay?” He had asked you after you had disclosed to him all to eagerly about your big dreams in the big apple, and the lack of real plan you had to achieve them. Flying on hopes and dreams and the hundred dollars you had in your bag. 
“Nope,” you said with a smile. A smile that both made Joel uneasy and his own lips twitch. 
“You ain’t got no one waiting for you? Lookin’ for you?” 
“Why?” Your brows raised playfully, “you got other plans for me?” The scoff that left Joel made you laugh before your tone turned serious, looking out the window as you spoke. “No one’s looking for me or waiting.” you sigh, “you ever been so sick of listening to what people tell you to do? They know what's  best, and they know what you should do because it benefits them. It’s not even for your own wellbeing; they’re just trying to be saints. To live through you. To control you. I was just so sick of it. So, I just woke up one day and said, fuck it, and I left.” 
“No better way to find yourself than on the side of the highway.” Joel joked drly, and the reaction he got out of you was one he thinks if he had to hear over every state line he would have zero complaints about it. 
“And here I thought you were some uptight old man.”
“And here I thought you were trouble.” 
“Who said I’m not?” You smirked, gave him the smallest of winks that made him grin. “Troubles fun.” 
That’s why Joel should have known then. 
Should have known when he saw you on the side of the road.
When you jumped into his truck.
When you had him questioning himself.
He should have known you’d feel so good.
“Do you like when I touch you like this? I can keep going if you want me to.” You had said when you reached over and rubbed his growing erection through his jeans. Your mouth soon found itself wrapped around his cock before he pulled off the road, no longer being able to control himself.
He should have known you’d sound fucking sweet saying his name as he fucked you. 
“Is this what you do? Stand on the side of the road waiting for strange men to pick you up and fuck you, huh?” Joel’s words are low grunts murmured into your neck, a hand curving around your shoulder to give him better leverage. “Like a little fuckin’ siren.” His teeth graze the nape of your neck as he bites and sucks at the skin there. Leaving you with something to remember him by. A mark on you the way you’re leaving it on him. 
Your pussy clenches around his cock. Your moans and whimpers settling in the pit of his groin, that has his pleasure building and building. That makes him fuck you harder when you cry out for more. 
“Yes.” 
“It’s a good thing I pulled over then, fell into your little trap, and gave this pussy what it needed. I deserve a thank you for being so kind.” Your moan is muffled by the seat, your head attempts a nod as your body trembles against him. “I deserve to come in this pussy as much as I want. Get my fill before I leave you to find the next sorry asshole.” Joel grunts, curses under his breath as he holds your ass flush against his pelvis, lifting your hips to a new angle to fuck harder into your tightness. 
“Or maybe I’ll just keep you. Take you home with me and use you as my lil’ fuck toy, would’ya like that? To be used every day the way you deserve?”
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shower-phantom-ideas · 10 months
Text
Yall don’t understand how obsessed I am with Danny messing with the Justice League. Like just pranking them mad wild. Or “haunting” them.
Maybe it starts as a mistake. Someone was getting close to him and he just vanished. Maybe he was walking around one of their cities cause he wanted to “see how a real hero does it” but tried to stay out of the way.
Hes following Superman and doesn’t realise hes been had. Superman keeps seeing this odd child on the edge of his vision. It’s only weird because of how quickly he is traveling. He should be followed like this. So he tests it out and flys off to somewhere far off, but secluded. Edge of some farm land would work. Trying to not give it away he doesn’t make a show of looking for the boy. He then spots him. His eyes slightly glowing as he stands in the edge of the woods. Clark focused on the boy and hears slight breaths but nothing else. Which he should have realised sooner was wrong.
He returned to the team to report this odd being following him. To also warn everyone else to be on look out just incase.
Weirdly enough it was the Flash who noticed him next. Even weirder was that he could never get close. Even with his speed which was alarming.
Cyborg started seeing the kid too. He tried using cameras to get a better look at him but nothing ever showed up. Always missing was the boy from the video. Sometimes the whole video would get distort.
Wonder Woman probably got the closest as she used a fight to get “thrown” in his direction. She got close enough to see worry about her. He seemed so concerned and like he was going to step in until he met her gaze. A whole new kind of fear crossed his features. Then he was gone.
Everyone of the main team (and even some not) reporting in of spotting the kid except for Batman. And he looked. He tried everything to see if he was being followed like the rest but nothing. He read their reports on their encounters and tried to emulate it but never saw the boy. Maybe it was all a big prank being pulled on him? He couldn’t rule it out. Still he kept up constant watch.
Then one night he was out and got into a fight. Distracted by looking for the kid he got messy. Or maybe the criminals got desperate but he didn’t notice the rocket launcher being targeted on him in time and it fired. Only then did he notice it. No time to fully get out of the way he braced for the worst. When all of a sudden a body slammed into him shoving him out of the way of the blast. They rolled onto the ground. Bruce quickly recovered and looked for his saviour. On the ground, blown slightly to his left by the explosion was a black haired teen in a white t-shirt. Before he could move the boy groaned and looked right at Bruce. The haunting blue eyes meeting his even with the mask in the way the boy knew just where to look. He was about to speak when the boys eyes went wide with fear and then nothing. The boy just vanished into this air. Bruce didn’t have much time to be stunned by this as the thugs before started to cheer, thinking they had finished off the Bat. So he went to make quick work of them before any could get away. Well now he knows hes being followed too
Danny just freaking out about Batman seeing his face. Turns out he never followed Batman unless fully invisible. All he wanted was to see how “real” heros did it. And it had been helping him with his fighting. To see how the pros are. He was always worried the “worlds greatest detective” would figure him out though so he stayed hidden. Also maybe hes a bit of a fan. I made Wonder Woman get the closest cause shes his fav probably.
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clockwayswrites · 9 months
Text
Both Ways at Once Part 3
wc: 1565, Masterpost
Danny wanted to pace. He wanted to work out the energy and anger burning under his skin by moving. But he couldn’t— he wouldn’t. Red Hood still had a grip on his sleeve and Danny wouldn’t take that grounding point from the other, not when it seemed to help the man so much. Not when Danny knew how bad the separation from one’s haunt hurt.
The touch was also grounding him, Danny could admit that much. He knew that his powers were getting away from him. He knew they were seeping in that way that they did these days, bleeding out and warping pieces of the reality around him. It was more than he wanted to show the Justice League, but he couldn’t keep it all inside. He was spiraling.
Danny took a deep breath and tried to focus.
“It’s alright, Red Hood. You don’t need to stand guard in front of me. They won’t hurt me,” Danny said. At least he hoped they wouldn’t try.
“You are a threat to them.”
Danny shook his head. He could be, of course, but he wouldn’t be. “I’m not.”
Red Hood turned his head, just slightly. Even without seeing the other’s eyes, Danny felt he was being watched. “You didn’t do things their way. That means you’re a threat. They eliminate threats.”
Danny bristled. Not at being called a threat, but because of the picture that painted about Red Hood’s captivity.
“Perhaps we should all have a seat,” Wonder Woman suggested as she took a seat sat the table herself.
Everyone else hesitated a moment, but Danny nudged Red Hood towards a seat and took one across the table from the heroes himself. He held back a sigh as Red Hood chose to stand behind him instead, one gloved hand rested on Danny’s shoulder. It was an improvement, at least.
Batman took the seat to the right of Wonder Woman, and Superman the right of him. They clearly framed the man. John very clearly put himself in the middle of the two groups— both literally and figuratively. Uneven odds, but Danny had faced worse.
“I need the whole story, Constantine,” Danny said, not waiting for one of the others to take charge. His hands were gripped white knuckled together where they rested on the table. He couldn’t keep the thread of anger out of his tone, but he reigned it in as best as possible. “Because from my point of view, I walked in on you all torturing Red Hood in a way that could very well kill him.”
“We don’t kill,” Superman said, puffing up with his pointed words.
Danny stared at him for a long moment before he glanced up at Red Hood. “Is that the way of theirs you went against? The one that made you a threat?”
The hand on his shoulder tightened subtly.
“He’s a murderer,” Superman said, leaning forward as if imparting something important. “He beheaded people to make a point.”
“I’m sorry,” Danny said, crinkling his brows up purposefully in confusion. “Did I ask you anything?”
While Superman looked like he’d sucked on a lemon, Danny turned to Constantine. He knew the shadows were growing around him, lengthening, and he let them this time. “I need the whole story. Now, John.”
John glanced from Danny to the others, cigarette turning restlessly in his fingers. Whatever he saw in the big three, it was enough and he slumped heavily back into is seat. The sigh he heaved was full bodied and he just looked weary suddenly. “Justice League asked me to check something out in Gotham. Which is…”
Danny nodded and motioned for him to go on. Gotham was a cursed city of pretty notorious reputation in the magical community. In general, people of any real power stayed away unless they were up to something very dark. The only ways to operate in Gotham as a proper magic user was to be supported by Gotham’s curses or be supported by Gotham herself, and her favor was rare to earn.
“So I recruited the vigilante known as Red Hood. Not… exactly the one behind you,” John said, motioning with his cigarette. “And by recruited I mean badgered him until I promised to play errand boy for a few things.”
“…and yet you claim you didn’t know he’s a protector spirit?” Danny asked sharply, the words almost hissing with his rage.
“Pomp,” John leaned forward, spreading his hands over the table top. The cigarette barely stayed between his fingers. “I swear to you, in full weight, that I didn’t. Other Red Hood was alive. He reeked of death, but all the Bats do. You do. I went to him since he uses magic, abet dubiously, and is…” John shot a glance at Batman before grimacing. He continued anyways. “He’s a sodding Son of Gotham, alright? His presence at my side let me work in the city.”
Danny sucked in a breath through his teeth. Well fuck.
“How angry is Gotham?”
John shrugged. “That’s… complicated, Pomp. Let me finish the damn story?”
Double fuck. Danny leaned back in his chair and tried to unclench his hands.
“So we go and find the problem,” John continued. “Which of course…”
“Cult.”
“Cult. What else in Gotham, right mate? We fight, Red Hood comes in handy, but then the head fucker shows some serious skills— or paid for some serious skills at least. They go on this rant about undoing what made one what they are today, motioning with this staff. I can only think that it was meant to get rid of how I got my powers, but Red Hood shoves me out of the way and takes the blast to the chest instead. There’s a cloud of magic because the whole cult is showy bastards and when it clears, there’s this Red Hood standing there and also his civilian ID, or at least a version of him. Looks a might bit smaller, mind you.”
“Okay, sure, right,” Danny said. He could feel the headache coming on. “So we’ve got the vigilante and then… who he would have been if he’d never been a vigilante?”
Danny swore Batman shifted at that.
Batman never shifted.
Danny was about to call him out when Wonder Woman cleared her throat and leaned forward. She rested a deceptively delicate hand on Batman’s arm. “No, before he was Red Hood, he was a Robin.”
“What it changed,” Red Hood explained, voice rough even for the modulation, “Is if we died. I still did. I feel it. I’m the Robin that died.”
Even Batman didn’t manage to hide his flinch at that.
Triple fuck.
-----
AN: Surprisingly, Danny hasn't gone off yet! And we're starting to get more answers! Kinda? Somewhat. Now I wonder what that other version is doing...
Stay delightful, darlings!
I no longer tag people, but you can subscribe to the Masterpost instead to be notified!
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amourdivine · 2 months
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𝐖𝐇𝐎'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅? ઉ   PICK A CARD
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Hello lovelies, I hope you're having a wonderful week! This is perhaps the first heavily shadow work focused PAC I bring to you. I'm quite nervous to post this, since I know delivering these messages can be difficult and I don't like taking a harsh, judgmental approach. I hope this reading resonates. As always, feedback is highly appreciated! If you liked this reading, please consider tipping me at @ [email protected]! xo ♡
paid readings are closed as of february 2024
none of the images are mine unless stated otherwise!
pick a card masterlist & information
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how to choose your pile.  take a few deep breaths for and look at each and of the piles separately. see which one brings you to a feeling, a place or a memory. take your time and feel free to come back to it later!
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amourdivine. 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.
୨୧ PILE ONE
who is your shadow self? eight of swords • knight of cups • nine of wands • queen of wands
Your shadow self is the fearful side of you attached to anxiety. The side of you that does not believe you can save yourself from bad situations and feels endlessly hopeless, helpless and trapped. It causes a self-fulfilling prophecy, one where you think you'll inevitably fail, so you self-sabotage (either consciously or not) and end up "proving" yourself right.
However, as helpless as your shadow feels, it never asks for help. It's trapped in a spiral of shame and self-doubt, even self-hatred. All of this happens mentally for most of you, to the point where your body is neglected or stuck in flight / freeze mode. I feel stuck in the gutter, unable to move in the sticky mud. Despite your best efforts to succeed, you may suffer from impostor's syndrome as well, an inability to see your worth, your beauty and your own light. It's almost as if you're scared of your own power, pile one. Very painful, very self-inflicted and something which you may have learn from childhood, maybe you got bullied a lot or were heavily criticized by the people around you. If that happened, I'm so sorry pile one. You deserved so much better. You still do.
how can you work with your shadow self? nine of cups • the sun • queen of swords • queen of wands
You know, when I was entering college, I had a counselor whose words were life changing to me. One day, he picked up a cup full of coffee and asked me: how do you get rid of the coffee, without throwing it out entirely? And I was puzzled. It wasn't possible. Him, in his neverending patience, took me to the water station and started pouring water onto it, until the coffee was cleared away and all that remained was clean, crystal liquid.
Maybe the bad things that happened still haunt you, but they can be drawn out by the good ones. Seek for the light, pile one. Seek the nurturing experiences, the days when you allow yourself to just be, seek the help, the love and stay open to the love. Stay open to the idea that yes, you are worthy, even if you do not feel like it, even if so many people have made you feel otherwise.
These wounds may not fade entirely with time, but you are more than them, always. Always. I know it's never easy to challenge what we've been taught about ourselves, but in order to unlearn all of that, you will have to learn the new things, the true things about you. If they said you were lazy - was that really true? Or were you just tired? You're not "naive", you're pure. You're not "too sensitive", you're in tune with your emotions.
The stories we tell ourselves hold power. What stories are you telling about yourself? Maybe it's time to switch to a new point of view, one where you can rewrite yourself as the person you were never allowed to be.
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୨୧ PILE TWO
who is your shadow self? judgement • five of swords • ten of cups • king of wands
Your shadow self is the side of you that thrives in chaos - listen, that's not entirely a bad thing, after all, our shadow reflects something which we need to acknowledge, nurture and work with. However, when you perceive danger or feel threatened, you may turn to harsh words or hurtful actions to avenge yourself.
It can manifest in the form of extreme competitive behavior, the inability to rest, overworking, even maybe envy, jealousy and arrogance sometimes. Now, I'm not here to judge or shame you, you're safe here. I think you have and still feel the need to prove yourself to others, to prove them all wrong. Maybe other people told you that you couldn't do it - and you took it all personally, so personally that it crumbles your self-esteem when someone diminishes your efforts or accomplishments.
Your shadow side craves attention, praise and approval. You want to succeed, to be someone you're proud of, to just never feel insecure, diminished or ignored again. You can also turn possessive with loved ones, wondering if they really love you or if they are lying. There's a lot of skepticism here, too.
how can you work with your shadow self? judgement • ace of pentacles • three of pentacles • eight of swords
Acknowledge your feelings and these insecurities. "Fake it 'till you make it" doesn't always work. Being vulnerable is, ironically, also being strong. Understanding your limitations and allowing for other people to collaborate with you (and vice-versa) will take you even further in life.
Your sense of justice is commendable. Make sure you're using it for justice indeed, and not just vengeance. Your ambition can walk hand in hand with your desire to do good, to make space for everyone else to shine, to open up to others, let them see all of you. No one can love perfection - even if they could, what's there to love about something or someone so perfect that they barely feel human?
It's okay to be scared, to feel insecure, to not shove difficult emotions under the rug. We cannot be at our 100% all the time. And we cannot please everyone, all the time. What you can do is praise yourself, let others praise you when they do and accept it gracefully, making sure you're spreading your warmth and wisdom to others as well. See, I think you have overcome a lot and a lot of people could use your help, either in the form of advice, resources or a shoulder to lean on.
You have leadership potential, pile two. Don't limit yourself by being alone. We were never meant to make it on our own.
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୨୧ PILE THREE
who is your shadow self? ace of wands • page of swords • three of cups • king of pentacles
Your shadow self is someone who may indulge in harmful habits out of a need for instant gratification, maybe reckless spending, speed driving, partying everyday or simply not saving up resources and caring about the future. Your shadow self is someone who hates boredom, who craves excitement and cannot fully deal with long-term commitment in its many forms. It wants novelty, adventure and it comes at the cost of your responsibilities, your routine and your friendships even.
This shadow self hates suffering (fair enough, who doesn't?!) and will to go great lengths to avoid it... but ironically, it causes you more pain in the long run by avoiding the unavoidable. By never crying, never addressing your issues or your difficult moments, you end up running right back into yourself and these same issues return.
This side of you doesn't want to grow up - you don't want to fall into the trap of routine and a boring, 9-5 job. But excessive habits are difficult to maintain, no matter how good it feels in the short term. There's a difficult, troubled perception of adulthood and life itself. A need for constant adventure and chaos, a feeling of entrapment whenever you are with anyone who loves you, because you fear being controlled, tamed and used.
how can you work with your shadow self? the tower • nine of wands • nine of cups • three of pentacles
To put it simply, let yourself hurt. Let the foundations of your heart crumble, stop to feel just for a second. You don't have to be on the run all the time. What are you running from, pile three? Disaster, pain and hurt are often inevitable, but they do not have to be the be-all, end-all of our lives. The Tower is a reminder that all that crumbles was meant to crumble eventually, and there is beauty in letting things end naturally, allowing the flow of life to do its thing.
That means aging, growing, learning from the seasons. I think you have a very, very deep heart and mind you're scared to tap into. You're scared to be trapped in the endless hustle, to never feel alive or good once you "settle". But who says the big joys are the only ones that matter? As someone said once, big joys and small joys are often the same. Sometimes, waking up in itself can be an adventure. Don't overlook or underestimate the ways life tries to find you, to cling to you - remember to embark on the hard journeys, knowing you'll have gotten something valuable in the end.
You're brave and rebellious. You can be a catalyst for change in so many ways. Who said adulthood has to be boring? Who said you have to work a 9-5? Do you have to get married? Maybe being a stay-at-home parent isn't for you. That's okay.
Challenging the status quo may not be easy, but you have a natural inclination for it. Your shadow self can dive deeper. It's one of your greatest tools. Your need for joy and fun is not shameful - you can use it for healing, instead of self-destruction.
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୨୧ PILE FOUR
who is your shadow self? judgment rx • justice • the high priestess rx • knight of swords
Your shadow self is the side of you that refuses to acknowledge your needs, your wants and desires. It makes you live inside of a bubble, scared of the truth, even if it will set you free. I had the hardest time shuffling for this pile, I kept trying and trying but nothing made sense. I think this is how your shadow side manifests as well, in the lack of clarity, the fogginess that permeates the choices you've regretted.
It's both reckless and frozen, completely lost in a maze, confused, looking for a path, for directions, for anything. It's almost as if you lost your compass, nothing eventually guides you and you remain looking for the directions only you have.
It's too scared to admit what it wants, who you are. Both out of fear of what other people will say, but also out of fear that it'll all go wrong. It's the side of you that remains disconnected from yourself, hidden because it keeps highlighting the aspects you keep trying to ignore, to not know. It can manifest in a lot of ways, either through people-pleasing or being completely reckless. Through lying, denial or even isolation from the world, from life itself.
Something funny is that a song by Bad Suns that just started playing really relates to this pile. "Cinderella slips into a dream like a curse / you could mistake it for heaven at first." This shadow self may live in projection, daydreaming or simply keep you out of touch with everything.
how can you work with your shadow self? six of pentacles • page of wands • two of wands • king of cups
Engagement and socializing are big ways you can work with your shadow self. Being actively curious about the world, about people. Approaching relationships, truths and life itself with genuine interest, no judgement or shaming thoughts involved.
Telling yourself you're an eternal student of this world, because we are and remembering you don't have to know everything. Start scared. Most things, you'll have to do it scared. Unprepared. In the thick of it all, you'll find the answers you need, but only if you are willing to dive deep for them. No taking shortcuts, making assumptions or allowing self-doubt to paralyze your living, because you need to witness life as it is.
Therapy is one big thing, music as well. Anything that connects you to your deepest self, relationships that genuinely make room for who you are, good friends that feel safe and non-judgemental. Your heart has been calling you for so long, pile four. It's about time you listen to it. It knows everything you need to know.
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disclaimer. tarot not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i do not take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings. please remember you are responsible for life and in power of it, no one else! ♡
amourdivine. 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.
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pinkiealexie · 3 months
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Guardian Angel...?! ✟ Adam
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NOTE :
I haven't wrote in forevah so these are simple headcanons (pretty much a one shot just in bullet points) of Adam dealing with being the guardian angel of a modern day teenager. Our beloved reader! Reader is in high school and very much hispanic/latino coded. THIS IS PLATONIC!!!
WARNING(S) : Adam being his own warning, average teenager crap, short and messy, not proof read
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Adam was NOT thrilled to learn that he'd have to be 'babysitting' some loser named "Y/N". All he could do was try to bitch and moan his way out of it to Sera but his complaints fell on deaf ears as there was no getting out of it. I quote "All angels must do it at some point while they're in heaven." Sera spoke with a stern tone. Psshhhhh, he knew that, but he didn't think that meant it would also apply to him. Now he didn't have as much time to do his chicks and gigs but it is what it is. From what he remembers about being a guardian angel, all he had to do was...
1. Protect them
2. Get them to avoid sin
3. Guide them from Point A to Point B
That shouldn't be TOO hard.
✟ First time back down on Earth since he died and the first thing he sees is you screaming "KILL YOURSELF" at someone in voice chat. Damn did you scream louder than the bitch he fucked last week. Already he wanted to leave but he had to stay with you for at least a couple times a week. Not only that but your room was a MESS! Don't you know sloth is a sin?? Empty bottles of water are scattered everywhere and your desk was a mess, things were collecting dust, and your bed is so undone like you were just raw dogging someone or being raw dogged
✟ After the first day of watching over you he could already tell that you were far from the path of god and possibly make him go insane from boredom so his genius little mind thought that if he was going to do this, then he was going to make it fun for himself
✟ Adam began to purposely knock things over in your house, rearrange items around, and call your out your name only for you to see no one. He found it hilarious that your seemed to piss your pants and think your house was possessed, he especially loved doing these things after you decided to watch any type of horror media at night or if you were home by yourself
✟ The jokes and laughs got boring very quickly since your reaction was always the same. After a bit he remembered that there was no rule that he couldn't show himself to the kid. Sure it should be obvious and common sense to not reveal yourself as all the other guardian angels never did it but that's an imaginary rule so it's not an official rule. Therefore, he isn't breaking ANY of the rules
You grumbled in pain as you had woken up with a bad migraine in the morning, the only upside was that your mom let you stay home from school today. Speaking of your mother, she had made you some caldo de res before heading to work so you'd feel better along with a cold can of sprite. As you were about to eat some of the caldo you saw the vase of a plant slightly move from the corner of your eye which paused your eating. Ever since last month your house had some creepy ghost shit happening and you were sure that you'd end up in a padded white room if you told anyone anything.
You decided not to pay it any attention as you took one last bite of your warm caldo until the vase fell off the shelf and crashed onto the floor.
"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE DEMON!"
You felt silly for shouting at an empty space in your home but you had enough of whatever spirit was haunting you, and your headache was not making it any better.
After a few seconds of silence you heard an very offended voice from behind you "Okay first of all, I'm not a fucking demon, second, don't yell at empty spaces unless you want people to think that you're a schizophrenie."
Were you dreaming?! Was this you finally loosing your shit from those all nighters? You turned around and almost broke your neck to look up at this guy...this dude was like 3x your height if not more!
You were stunned, you blinked once then twice then just put your empty dish in the sink.
"I need to…nap."
As you walked upstairs, you brought two fingers to forehead, your stomach, your right left then right shoulder, and up to your lips in a prayer of “En el nombre del Padre y del Hijo y del Espíritu Santo. Amén.”
✟ You later confirmed that you weren't dreaming and this was in fact real after waking up to his smug toothy smile. It being day only a few hours ago and it now it was pitch black out side. His bright glowing neon yellow face being the only source of light in the room which also allowed you to see that his elbows were resting on the crinkled and wrinkled sheets of your bed as he held his face in his both of his hands.
"Sup kid, so is your mom single or what?"
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after-witch · 6 months
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Horrorfest: To Make me Fret or Make Me Frown [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]
Title: To Make Me Fret or Make Me Frown [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]
Synopsis: You bought a life-size puppet in terrible condition and restored it. But now it doesn't want to let you go.
For Horrorfest request:
Might be cheesy, but Scaramouche haunted puppet for horrorfest? Maybe reader inherits an uncannily lifelike doll, or finds him as an antique?
Word count: 1156
notes: yandere, puppet shenanigans
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“He’s creepy,” your friend says. Her nose crinkles and she puts a hand up as if she can ward away whatever haunting abominations she imagines must be inside the doll, waiting to slither through her nostrils. “And weird,” she continues. “And broken.” 
The doll has colorful blue hair and most of his strings are missing; one of his eyes is missing its pupil and an arm is cracked, a jagged wound that goes all the way to the fingers. If the doll were to be lifted, the damaged pinky on that arm would probably come right off--maybe the forefinger, too. He’s dirty and wearing only some cast-off shirt, itself probably too damaged to be sold by the secondhand store. 
Your friend moves on, eager to head to the second floor where all the nice, expensive secondhand goods are kept, often behind glass cases so they don’t get damaged by looky-loos.
But you stay where you are.
Because the moment you took one look at the damaged life-size puppet propped up at the back of the store, in the same pricetag-less limbo as piles of tupperware with no lid, ripped books and ugly dolls missing arms, and your heart swelled. 
“He’s perfect.” 
--
The pinky on the damaged arm did come off before you even left the store, but you were able to salvage the original forefinger. The pinky, sadly, couldn’t be repaired--but you made a new one using the original as a mold and unless you’re staring quite intensely (which to be fair, you often do, when working on the puppet) you wouldn't be able to tell that it’s not original to the hand. 
“I’d like to keep all your original parts as much as I can,” you murmur in the direction of the puppet, currently propped up on a chair you’d dragged into your workroom for the sole purpose of letting him have somewhere to sit while you worked. “You really are exquisite, you know? I can’t believe someone let you get into such rough shape.” 
You sigh, lamenting the treatment of such  a unique piece of craftsmanship, and place the finishing touches on the puppet’s repaired eye. The pupil needed to be filled in with new material but you went ahead and refreshed the iris of both eyes to make them look newer. 
“Good as new, see?” You hold up both repaired eyes to the puppet, but realize your mistake when you’re greeted with a prim looking puppet with two black holes where his eyes should be. 
“Oops.” You carefully slide the eyes back into the socket, fiddling with your finger until they slot right into place. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t thinking. There!” You grab the magnifying mirror from your desk and hold it up in front of the puppet. “Now, see? Much better.”
It took a few months of work, but the puppet was just about restored, in your view. You’d even bought a new outfit for him, a simple white blouse with ruffles and plain trousers. It wasn’t exactly what you imagined he might have worn originally, but that was fine. 
“I’m glad I found you,” you say, to the puppet--and to yourself. “I’ve had a really nice time working on you!” You hum to yourself and start tidying up your work bench. “Now all that’s left is attaching your new strings, and I can have you picked up.” You smile, to yourself, to the puppet, to no one in particular. “I can’t believe that antique shop gave you away for free--they had no idea they were sitting on such a rare item!” 
But you, who repaired dolls and the like for a living, immediately knew what the puppet was worth; and who to contact as soon as you were able to get it home, as you knew a friend with an antique shop that took special requests, and he had a particularly wealthy customer who was dying for one of these rare life-sized pieces. 
The puppet with freshly painted eyes stares back at you and says nothing.
--
Something is sitting on your chest. Something heavy and cool to the touch. 
Sleep paralysis?  It wouldn’t be the first time. You did sleep on your back, after all, and your nights were sometimes restless. 
But you open your eyes without trouble, and the sensation does not go away. It takes a few moments, blinking in the dark, to realize who (no--what) is sitting on you.
It’s the puppet. 
Freshly painted eyes stare down at you, a face framed by the carefully sewn-in hair. In the dark, you can’t see the wood grains of his skin or the repair marks that you’d buffed until smooth. All you can see is his human shape, the gleam of glass eyes. 
“What--” you say, before a wooden finger presses to your lips.
“You were going to sell me.” It’s the puppet--the puppet is speaking.
You nod, terrified, every nerve in your body inflamed.
This can’t be happening, and yet it is. 
“Why?”
Your lips are dry and you stutter out an answer, hoping to wake up from this dream at any moment. But the more time goes on, the more you realize that you’re living in reality. An awful one, but reality all the same.
“I-I needed the money, you… you’re worth a lot.”
There’s a sound that comes from the puppet’s wooden throat, but you can’t quite place it. 
“You can’t sell me,” he says, simply. If you weren’t sure that you’d lost your mind, you might say that he sounds upset. Not just angry, but--hurt. 
“I-I won’t.” You swallow. “Just um. Get off me and I can…”
“No.” The glass eyes bore down on you, and you wish your eyes weren’t becoming accustomed to the dark. It was better not to see the cool stillness in them, unmoving, unblinking.
It’s then that you notice the strings.
Not on the puppet--but on you. 
The strings are wrapped around your wrists, tight, pinching into the skin. When you look up you see he’s attached them not to a marionette control bar, but to his own fingers. To himself. 
He raises his repaired pinky and your wrist goes along with it--too fast and harsh, nearly flopping over your face.
”Ah.” He regards your flopped appendage with curiosity, before simply lifting it himself and placing it back on your chest. “Well. I’ll have plenty of time to figure that out.” 
He leans forward, pressing his weight down on you, until his face was close enough that you could spot your own work; spot the little fine details in the paint, the grooves of his wooden flesh, the way his hair fell in a certain manner thanks to the placement of your carefully created knots. 
Oh, you thought, as his face came closer to yours, as he kissed you with puppet eyes wide open and wooden lips stiff. 
The paint on his lips needed to be touched up. 
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azulsluver · 6 months
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haunted house au??!! Is that a new event coming up? Will it relate to the last chapter 👀👀
Originally, bunch of ghouls who haunted this old house/apartment or whatever. I wasn't paying a lot of attention to that au but realizing the Halloween event was perfect for starters. For those who read the event then it would make sense of how the characters came to be in the world MC lives in.
Here are the basics of how they accustomed to their new life.
tw: yandere, ghost!twst, mentions of attempted suicide, obsessive/possessive behavior, mentions of gore-ish fantasies and acts, nudity (non-sexual), they watch you sleep every night.
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Your apartment is small. With them all inside as ghosts they can physically interact with each other so it gets pretty cramped. They’re attached to you, literally, they aren’t able to leave the place they’re in unless you track down Crowley or COUGH COUGH the man who owned the store. Also moving places since it is “haunted house”, will lead to them following along.
-What did he do to deserve this? To be transferred into a world with no magic, and to be a ghost again! He can't physically touch you or use any sort of magic to collar you, it's a nightmare for Riddle when you break some of the (unknown) rules.
-To keep it short, Riddle is a noxious ghost to have around. He practically breaths down your neck for everything you do. You'll mostly see Riddle inside your bedroom, along with many others who are trying to get comfortable. Besides the bedroom, Riddle is one of the many ghosts who will volunteer to go along with you for your errands. That is if people like Ace or Floyd who always wanna tag with you.
-The second person to be leaning over your shoulder is Trey, he’s more than curious of your everyday life. What type of shampoo you wear, lotion or perfume that reminds him of you. He’s not a nauseous but you’d wish he’d leave you alone as well. The veil covering his face burns into your mind of the people he tore so easily, no matter how much he smiles sweetly at you.
-Like clingy dogs, Deuce is nearly always on you. Be it a hug, hand holding, or trapping you in his arms, he can’t stand the thought of separation now that you’re here and alive. Second clingy dog; Cater. He’s so fascinated by everything and you, often times teasing Deuce to not hoard you all for himself. Cater does bother you as much as Deuce does, his odd fixation on you is unknown and sometimes freaks even Ace out. But Cater thinks it’s adorable, funny even.
-Nobody really eats anything. They don’t have the stomach in your world to actually enjoy cuisines like you.
-Ruggie and Ace are always pulling pranks on you, inside your safe haven has been stripped from you completely. Where privacy privileges are nonexistent as the ghosts free roaming in your home. You’re always on edge with these psychopaths who have no problem using your fear to their advantage.
-None aren’t as kind as Silver however, but he doesn’t bring you much comfort. When everyone feels no guilt of killing the innocent, Silver is nothing but human to you as he shared a deep meaningful conversation with you during the late night. Times where you couldn’t sleep and he just so happens to be awake there for you.
-Speaking of clingy, Leona, Rook, Jack, Kalim, Floyd, AND Malleus are there to make your mental sanity DROP. With their weird confessions and obsession of wanting to cut you open and eat you is bad enough. Their touches burn like hell. Oh will somebody solve the problem of these big mean demons….
-The shop is your solution. With the shop owner spewing nonsense into your ear, hope drains when you catch upon the fact ghosts like them will stay until your time has been served.
-Like death themselves, until you can no longer breath will you be free, not unless one of them manages to snag your soul into their realm.
-However, there is a part-time solution if you wish to have peace and quiet. A sacred scroll that mostly works like a phone seeing how it needs to recharge energy to work; as it is unbreakable, it’s used to ward off evil spirits for a whole week before falling into a deep recharge for a month.
-Was it a scam, maybe, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
-Now there are some who aren’t as obnoxious as the rest, that being Vil, Jamil, Trey, Azul, Jade, Lilia, and Silver. With your space being respected if asked, they’re more curious about your world. Not being obnoxious doesn’t mean they aren’t playful, often making comments on how you’re gonna die. What position, what days, places, all the scenarios that feeds into your brain like scratching chalkboards.
-What should be dreaded most is sleeping hours. The touches are faint and almost weak, something that had to do with your current situation and mood. As your drowsy figure stumbles into bed, somehow they too become more docile and quiet. That sounds good but it’s the fact they don’t sleep. Instead now that you’re state is dreaming off they can’t really interact with anything else. Other than watching you in a single room. Their touch is haunting.
-No one can see them, other than you and Grim. With you and your fat little feline friend have to deal with losers like these. Sadly, Grim can’t do much as no physical contact works, much to Idia’s pleasure.
-Absolutely no one likes any of your friends coming over. Surprisingly even Sebek is possessive over you. They’d glare so hard it makes you pass out from fear they might cause actual harm. As they can’t be seen doesn’t mean the force of their wrath will.
-Having friends over is not a good idea. But leaving home doesn’t get rid of their pissy attitudes. As spirits have strong emotions and auras; leaving you feeling sick and lightheaded by their constant bickering.
-Settling for agreements are tough, people like Azul and Vil have no problem with that. In fact they were one of the many to ask before doing things. You recognize Azul as the one who attempted to drown you, as Floyd dose nothing but babble about how much he cried and how he whines it hurts. Azul and Vil someone….respect you in a way? You certainly aren’t seen as equal but from everything that’s happened to you? A pat on the back is all you’re given.
-Get use to nudity. They sure are but they’ll still be dicks about it: Ace, Sebek, Jamil, Leona, Lilia, Floyd.
-More about their physical touches. It can cause a lot of harm to your body. Leaving marks and evidence of their abuse. Depending on your circumstances it can hurt as bad as getting your nails ripped out, they aren’t able to dig their fingers into your flesh to the point of slicing limb to limb.
-That has something to do with life and deaths they aren’t allowed to kill you ad your are bounded to the book. Serving the years of unknown disasters (murder, accidents, etc…but any attempt of self harm brings agony until you are waking up with their faces hovering above you.) or old age
-Rook makes most of your situations worse somehow. He’s always teasing the others for stupid reason. He wants to sit with you when Leona has a arm slumped over your shoulder on the couch. Invading your personal space in from of Malleus when engaging (not so willingly) conversations. Asking stupid questions like; do you prefer waking up to me or blah blah when you awake from your slumber.
-“Neither.”
-They don’t seem very useful other than bothering you whenever you come back home. The problem is how small room there is, and they complain about it a lot as well.
-Luckily for you they aren’t completely useless nor do their powers; it’s still pretty weak and does little. Malleus is ancient, his power weakens him if used, but he’ll use it for your advantage. Good luck.
-That’s the power, yep. Only key holders contain powerful magic as they did back in their world.
-Technically Malleus has the power to bring good and bad luck. Depends on how silly he’s feeling. Cue the blackish grey skies with green thunder causing crashes outside.
-Riddle’s power does more harm to others however, like his usual unique magic, and the reason why you don’t bring anyone over/ victims are forced to experience a choking hazard, one that’s not visible to touch or see.
-Leona can bring you golds and jewels, those are rare times if he ever thinks you deserve it. As I say when you have a whole drawer of them.
-Azul’s power allows him to create illusions, they are weak yet powerful on your still traumatized soul. When angered he’s petty enough to bring the faces or place of the events that happened in the book.
-Kalim is like a drug, his power is anything including smoke. Smoke that can make you sleep, intoxicate you, feel hunger or smell something like childhood.
-Vil is draining and giving. Having the ability to give or take your fatigues, when used more it can cause you to bleed from the nose and lead to hallucinations. It’s best to be on his good side if you ever feel the need for more enthusiasm energy.
-Idia can create skeletons to the living world. They don’t last long but are able to sedate and hold you. He doesn’t use them much as it quickly drains him. (Skeletons won’t be seen by others btw)
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iloveoldermen-posts · 26 days
Note
Idk if you do these kinds of things but I kinda wanna get this off my chest. 141 or whoever you chose with an actual ghost reader? Like they kinda haunt the base and leave little trinkets and notes. Uh little ghostie has taken a liking to them and vice versa. The boys like to sometimes leave little things they find for her to eventually move somewhere else either for a prank or a pick me up to show she’s there. This is my first time ever doing a request so feel free to ignore if it’s too much
- ♠️ s
My Little Note I'M SORRY BUT THE CREATIVITY. My god this ask ateeee. I will try my hardest to bring the vision to life, thank youuu for suggesting it!!
Warnings: open ending, slight swearing, unsure about continuation of the one-shot, gender neutral however i have not proof read ୨୧
Everybody knew the base was haunted, I mean with how many people had died, with how many souls that were lost - it was bound to happen. The ghosts pretty much kept to themselves, wanting to finally be at peace. So unless you were a real pain in the as, they left you alone.
The 141 thought it was all a myth, something to make soldier's feel better about being afraid of their past haunting them. That was until 'little ghostie' took a liking to them. At first it was just the taunting of the man who dared call himslef 'Ghost', he hadn't reached that stage yet and Ghostie thought he shouldn't foreshadow the loneliest part of the cycle of life.
Ghostie thought it was funny seeing these big, wise men pracically shit themselves at the creak of floorboard, especially since everybody else knew about the base and accepted the idea of it being haunted.
When the 141 finally accepted Ghostie was there to stay, they started noticing things, trinkets of sorts. For example, leaving a bar of soap on Johnny's pillow, him replying 'real funny Ghostie.' Eliciting a gentle giggle to be heard and echoed through Johnny's mind for the rest of the week.
Or when Ghostie left a little ghost plush for Simon in his regular seat in the meeting room. He smiled under his mask and stuffed it in his pocket. Later that night when Ghostie was doing rounds of the base, they noticed Simon fast asleep with the small teddy almost engulfed by his arm muscle.
Gaz was given a drawing of himself sitting next to an empty chair filled with small orbs. Gaz classed it as a masterpiece and not only did he hang it up but he had it framed and placed on a wall in their common room, not even caring about the design rules.
Price was the last to recieve any gift at all, some of the boys even had multiple before he recieved his first. He didn't care about all of that when he recieved his gift - a beautifully written cursive letter explaing to him who Ghostie really was and how happy they are now they have all met.
The letter included the fact that when a ghost finally reaches full contentness, they either pass over or come back from the land of the dead.
That was the last time they heard from 'little ghostie' for the past week, unsure of what they finally chose..
<3
My asks are currently open so get the requests in, and check out my masterlist.
THANK YOU FOR READING!! -> ALL REBLOGS, LIKES AND COMMENTS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!!
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babygorewhore · 4 months
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Prey
Rafe Cameron x Fem reader
Part one
Part two
After moving to the Outer banks to stay with your cousin, John B after your parents death, you catch the eye of Kooks. After being invited to one of his parties as part of a bet, you realize that Rafe Cameron has decided to make you his. Even if that means he’s going to stalk you.
W.C over 3k
Thank you so much to @take-everything-you-can and @reidsbtch for beta reading!!
Warnings! FemReader is alternative and introverted! Parental death! Bullying! Implications of stalking and flashing! Reader is slightly naive and easily manipulated at first. No use of y/n. No smut in this part but it’s definitely going to be in part two and I’m crazy. Concept inspired by @sadfury and Haunting Adeline by H.D Carlton. Events after season two but altered because I said so.
John B let you settle into your new room as you slightly grimaced. This was the last thing you ever expected, moving here away from home. But after the death of your parents, you weren’t able to live alone, you didn’t have a choice. He was the only family you had left.
You couldn’t be more different. He was used to the beach life, a Pouge as he educated you on the drive here after you arrived. He was sunshine, tan and light colored clothes. Sandals and shorts.
You on the other hand were an all black wearing, band shirts, dark makeup and tall boots that gave you at least four inches. You stood out like a sore thumb.
It was hard to adjust to the passing of your parents after the sudden car accident. It couldn’t be more cliche.
If you weren’t in your room crying, you were usually scrolling aimlessly on social media looking at your photos of them.
Shy wasn’t the exact word to describe you, introverted was a better description and you completely dreaded the next day because John B was determined to show you around and introduce you to his girlfriend and friends. You tried to smile, practicing in the mirror but it looked painfully fake.
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The weather was just as hot as John B mentioned. You were wearing a band t shirt, black shorts and he tried to convince you to wear flip flops but you kept on your converse shoes. The beach was crowded much to your distain and you desperately wished you brought an umbrella.
This part of the beach had a golf course not far away and you had never played golf a day in your life. You stuck to solitary hobbies.
“You sure you’re not gonna get too hot in that? I can buy you a swimsuit.” John B nudged you with his elbow and you shook your head.
“No, thanks. I’d rather wear something I’m comfortable in.” You forcefully smiled as you shield your eyes from the sun rays.
“So, uh. We have a library in town, a few shops nearby. We have a pretty good restaurant Kie’s parent’s own. I know you remember some-unless you want to be alone.”
“I think that’s good right now.” You confessed as you both settled your towels on a spot on the beach. The waves crashed and it was a soothing sound you didn’t expect.
“Wow, it’s so beautiful.” You nodded.
John B smiled. “I’ll take it.”
You laid down on the towel, gingerly moving off any sand that flicked onto your calves. You did bring a book you were determined to finish when John B growled. “Fucking prick.”
“Why so hostile?” You questioned, you never saw him angry. John b crossed his arms and pointed behind you.
You turned, twisting your back to see two men at the golf course. You squinted but you could tell one of them was pointing in your direction. They were both blonde, dressed in preppy light clothing while holding golf clubs. They looked rich.
“Who are they?”
“Kooks. The worst of them. That one is Topper, he’s Sarah’s ex boyfriend and the taller one is Rafe. Her insane brother who beat the shit out of me, Pope and JJ.” You scowled and turned around.
“Kooks are the…?”
“Slang for the rich people. You and I are the Pouges.”
A few minutes later, his friends joined you. They were nice, really nice and outgoing. You stayed mostly quiet, watching the interactions and the way they swam in the water. Kie stayed with you the longest, consistent in her question if you needed anything or wanted to join them. You declined each time. Needing alone time after the long trip and new environment.
You sighed, having enough of uncomfortable sun bathing and decided to get a drink. You still had some cash and it wouldn’t kill it to just buy a soda. You walked to a shack, quickly wiping off your shoes of all sand.
You started towards the counter, grateful there wasn’t a line when a a blonde male moved around and stepped in front of you. He was the same man who was pointing at you and John B. The friend of this infamous Rafe.
“Hi, you must be John B’s cousin.” You remembered his name. Topper. He stuck out his hand and you folded your arms.
“Uh, yeah. That’s me.”
“Everyone’s heard about you, John B wanted to brag and Sarah couldn’t wait to meet you.” You internally winced at the not so subtle anger in his voice.
“Right, yeah.” You told him your name and started to step around him. “I’m just here to buy a drink.”
“Oh, let me,”
“No, really I’m fine-“ You both stood at the counter.
“I insist.” Topper paid for your soda and you wanted this interaction to be over.
“I’m not trying to be rude, but is there something you wanted?” You held the bottle protectively as he smirked.
“Sorry, I’ll get to the point. But I noticed how you were talking to the gang John b is friends with. And I wanted to see if you’d let a couple of Kooks let you show you around. You’ll actually get to see the island.”
Your hackles raised immediately and he sensed it.
“Don’t worry, we’re not gonna do anything. I just wanted to be nice. If you don’t want a tour, Rafe is throwing a party tonight. I wanted to invite you.” You raised an eyebrow and scoffed.
“No offense Topper but John B told me that Kooks wanted nothing to do with Pouges and how much you both hated him. Why would you be nice to me?”
To your dismay, he stepped closer. “Just because you’re John B’s cousin doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. And you don’t seem like you want to stay on the beach all day. Come on, maybe you’ll have a good time?”
You wanted to scream hell no, but something in your chest secretly wanted to get away, get a distraction for why you left home and John B unintentionally reminded you of your loss.
“I’ll-I’ll think about it.” Tooper smiled triumphantly and quickly wrote down on a napkin his number.
“Here. I really hope you come. And I can pick you up if you want.”
You gulped the bottle of coke and made your way back to the beach. After a few more hours of roasting underneath the sun, the invitation felt more and more appealing. The air conditioning didn’t work at John B’s house even though he was trying to fix it. And would one night really be so bad to let loose with a bunch of rich kids?
When you asked John b to drive you home, he kept asking you if you’d be okay alone and you firmly said yes. You left out the information of a party and Topper as you scrambled to find something to wear. Everything you had was black. Well. At least mostly everything.
You owned a pair of sparkly, silver high heels that you got as a birthday present two years ago for your twenty first and you hadn’t gotten a chance to wear them. Biting your lip, you slipped on a black dress that was mid thigh height, ruffles at the bottom of the skirt and it was a v neck exposing your bust.
Your hair was messy from the bun it was in all day so you braided it in two. Quickly slapping on makeup, you pulled out your phone and texted Toppers number.
“Is the offer still on the table?”
He responded almost immediately. “Of course! I’ll be there in twenty”
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True to his word, he was there in twenty and you inhaled. You could do this. You could go to one party.
The ride was…okay. He talked to you about the landmarks and talked about who would be there. His friends since childhood and of course…he talked about Rafe. How great he was. How rich he was. How he took over his parents empire after his father’s death and he ran it alone. You withheld comments about being handed down rich lively hood as you kept quiet.
You dreaded if he made any advances towards you but he never did. He was ever the gentlemen when he parked in the driveway of the massive penthouse. Booming with music, you saw people dancing through the bare windows and the balcony.
You couldn’t believe you were here. John B probably wouldn’t assume you were out of your room and besides. You were a grown woman capable of your own decisions.
“Let’s go,” Topper opened the door for you and you followed him inside. It was crowded. More than any party you’d been too.
Several people turned and stared at you, you couldn’t tell if it was judgement or curiosity. You clutched your small bag where your phone was closer. You could call John B anytime, despite his probable anger.
“Can I get you a drink? I can introduce you to some people.”
“Sure, thanks.” You wanted to scream for him not to leave you alone but you stayed strong and drifted to a corner.
God, now you were having regrets as the music turned up and people started cheering. Topper was taking longer than expected and you decided to be brave. Fuck it. You moved from your place and wandered around. Your heels clicking over the wooden floors.
The kitchen was almost filled to the brim with people, several sitting on the island and girls immediately turned towards you and paused mid conversation. Topper held two cups as he talked to Kelce.
“Oh, hey! I was just about to find you.” Uneasiness settled in your chest as you took the red cup. “It’s okay. I just-.i feel a little awkward.” You whispered.
“Come on, I wanna introduce you to the man of the hour.”
You started gulping the alcohol to try and suppress your nerves as you both climbed the stairs to another lounge area with dark lights. People were doing lines, slurring from drunkenness and making out. Basically fucking as your eyes narrowed on Rafe.
Up close, he was fucking hot. Sharp jawline, blonde hair that was separated with bangs and crystal clear blue eyes that were currently focused on a girl straddling his lap.
They were tongues and teeth making you feel even more uncomfortable and another emotion hit you. You tried to shove it away, but his fitted light pants around his muscular thighs, t shirt that exposed his defined arms and large hands…thick fingers gripped her ass.
Oh god, you were fucking jealous over a man you hadn’t even talked too.
“Hey, man. Hate to interrupt, but this is the new girl.” You tried not to bite your lip and smear your lipstick as he pulled away from her.
His light eyes swept over you, pausing longer on your tits, hips and exposed legs. He gave you a nod before a small smirk slid towards Topper. “Get off,” he lifted the poor girl off and plopped her on the couch to her distain.
Your core tightened in anticipation as he drew closer. He couldn’t be more opposite. In clothes. In height. In status. He oozed power, money and sex. With a little danger.
“Mmm. Yeah. I saw you today with John B. Didn’t expect him with Tim Burton.”
You cleared your throat, offense rising but you tried to remember you were in his house and yelling at him probably wasn’t the best idea given he could crush you. You started to extend your hand but he turned.
“Hey, get your asses to the pool! Im tired of being up here!” He called out and everyone started moving quickly. His commands obeyed without question as he jerked his hand to point them downstairs.
“Oh, I don’t have a swimsuit with me-“
“You live on the beach. But you didn’t bring one, Tim Burton?” Rafe challenged, looking down at you with a hazed look. You couldn’t tell if it was dislike or anger.
Why would he invite you if he didn’t like you?
“Come on,” Topper gestured with his head for you to follow him.
The pool was lit from under the water where several half naked people were playing chicken, kissing and smoking. You didn’t exactly mind the scene but it was entirely out of your comfort zone. Your heels caught a puddle on the concrete and arms caught you.
You inhaled sharply, thinking for a second it was Rafe but you saw him sitting on a lounge chair with the same girl perched on his thigh. She was beautiful except for the death glare she was giving you. You turned around to see your savior. It was Kelce who gave you a smirk before you were launched over his shoulder.
You screamed, “What the FUCK?!” And then you saw Topper briefly before you sailed into the cold pool. The water stung your eyes as you flailed from the weight of your shoes and panic. You clasped onto the side and pulled yourself up.
Everyone was laughing. Even recording you.
Your chest burst with embarrassment, anger and utter heartbreak as you knew how stupid you were for believing this was a kind invitation.
You wiped your face as you got your bearings and black liner, lipstick and foundation smeared all over your hand. “Fucking shit.”
You went to climb up but you slipped again, causing more laughter.
You remembered your phone, oh god your phone. No, your purse was still held by Kelce. You let your anger heave you over and you crawled up, shakily standing before you yanked your heels off. Everyone was still laughing and recording but you locked eyes on Rafe himself.
He wasn’t laughing. But his eyes held a hint of amusement and the corner of his mouth was tilted up.
You wanted to run. Cry and scream. That’s exactly what they expected. Instead, you marched towards him, shoving people out of your way as you stepped in front of him and the girl.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You growled, pointing a dripping finger. “Is this your idea of some kind of joke?”
He shrugged. “It looks like I won five thousand dollars. Top didn’t think you’d actually come. I said you couldn’t resist some attention, Tim Burton.” He parted his legs further as he got comfortable.
You were seething but you were also petty. So you took the bottom of your dress, not caring if it exposed your black panties underneath around the crotch as his blue eyes immediately dipped down to the area. You flapped the skirt. Splashing water right in their faces. And when he stood up, the girl followed suit, you slapped him.
Hard but he hardly moved an inch as he chuckled darkly and took a small step forward. The water dripped from his brow and landed on the ground.
“Fuck. You.” You hissed. You turned around and flipped everyone off before he could get a chance to tell you off.
You stormed away, bursting through the house, ignoring the cat calls as you shoved open the front door. You didn’t have a car and it was late. You had ripped your purse away from Kelce and checked your phone. John B was calling you.
You answered. “Hello?”
“Oh my god, are you okay? I’ve been calling for an hour, where did you go?” He sounded worried and you winced.
“Um. Can you pick me up?”
“Yeah, of course. Where are you?” You cringed at his question but you had no choice.
“I’m at Rafe Cameron’s house.”
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To say John B was angry was an understatement as you were sitting like a scolded child in his living room. You were still soaked like a wet cat as he rummaged to find a towel.
“I can’t believe you fell for it! I told you about those assholes. You can never trust them. Why did you even go?”
“Stop talking to me like I’m a child!” You finally snapped, standing. “I made a mistake. Can we just let it go?”
“Let it go? Rafe Cameron is a monster and you were made as an example for Pouges and now he has more ammo. He’s never going to leave it alone. And you may never-“
“What? Show my face? Be accepted? Guess what, John B, I’m already fucking USED to it. And maybe I just wanted a distraction from what happened. For once, I just wanted to let loose. Obviously, I fucked up. I’m going to bed.” You ground out and moved toward your bedroom.
“Wait, I’m sorry-“ But you slammed the door and locked it.
You were too upset to even shower as you yanked off your dress, underwear and shoved on an oversized t shirt, put your hair up and flopped onto the mattress.
Now, the tears started as you looked on social media.
Somehow they found your account and tagged you in dozens of videos of the incident. Horribly mean comments underneath caused you to cry harder. You never should have gone.
You hugged your pillow, about to close your phone and throw it, when a text came through. You didn’t recognize the number but hair raised on your arm as you read the words.
“Maybe if you did more than flash your panties, I would make them take them down.”
You sat up immediately. Now this, this had to be a joke. Rafe Cameron was texting you.
“Go. Fuck yourself. And don’t text me. I’m blocking you.”
“Do you really think this is my only phone number, Tim Burton?”
Your mouth parted. He was right but you thought of another tactic.
“Fine. I’ll change mine tomorrow.”
“Good luck. I’ll find out what it is.“ You clenched your jaw. Half a mind to call and scream at him.
“Leave me alone.”
The reply came almost immediately.
“I make the rules here, princess. Not you.”
You then pressed the call button. It rang once, twice, three times. “Pick up, asshole.” You grunted.
Finally, it stopped ringing and you heard silence. “I know you’re there, douchebag. Don’t text me anymore and don’t fucking call me princess.”
“Are you still trying to have control, princess?” You had to breathe deeply so you wouldn’t wake the neighbors with your yelling.
“What are you doing, Cameron? Why are you talking to me? After what you did? After hurting me like that? Is this some sort of sick game? Well, I’m not playing it. Stay the fuck away from me, you son. Of. A. Bitch.”
“I would be very careful how you talk to me, little girl. What makes you think this wasn’t what I wanted? You. All to myself.”
Fear stilled you as you whispered, “You-you leave me alone. I don’t like you. In fact, I hate you and I hate what you did! Fuck off.” You then hung up.
You shut off the light and crawled back into bed. Your body went from boiling hot to now ice cold. You blocked his number. Quickly and you shut your eyes. Drifting into a nightmare filled sleep being tormented by Kooks. Rafe Cameron’s voice and then…you dreamed of his dark eyes trailing the outline of your pussy through your black panties.
You snapped awake at the knock of your door.
“Hey, uh…do you want to go to breakfast? If not, that’s okay. I just want to make up for what happened. I feel awful for yelling at you and this shouldn’t be your first impression.”
You were tempted to say no. Let him go alone but you were hungry. And you wanted a distraction from the event last night. Sighing, you got out of bed. “Yeah, I’ll be right out.”
You throw on a pair of black shorts and your converse. Still wearing your big shirt and ponytail. You were weary of your phone, but you forced yourself to move past your fear and you snatched it from the pillow.
Another number was on your screen but you could see part of the message. You could only squeak when you opened it.
“I hope you enjoy breakfast, baby doll. I’d hate for you to starve that pretty little body. But I want you to behave. Like a good girl. Or this will be harder for you.”
Your mouth was completely dry when you stared at the screen. Oh fuck. He was true to his word. This was another number. But how the hell would he know about this morning? You realized the reality of this situation. He had eyes and ears everywhere.
You were certainly fucked.
And not in a good way.
Tagging
@scene-and-dandylover @xxhellfirebunnyxx @slvt4jamesmarch @take-everything-you-can @drewstarkeyslut @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @emsgoodthinkin @imyourdaninow @reidsbtch
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abbyromanoff · 6 months
Text
CHOKEHOLD
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PAIRINGS: Emily Prentiss x bsf’s child!reader
WORD COUNT: 2704
WARNINGS: smut, anal play, kinda dark Emily, manipulation, poorly written smut tbh, innocence kink, possessiveness, fingering, multiple orgasms, Mommy (E), squirting, cnc, somnophillia, R is JJ’s kid, think that’s all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
“Love you, Mom. Bye, guys!” Emily watched as you kissed your mom goodbye, the sweet gesture causing her to grin. You waved to the group, walking through the glass door and heading towards the elevator. She knew it was now or never, this was her chance to make her move.
“Alright, I think it’s about time I get home. Why don’t you guys get an early night?” She was usually the last to leave, which is what confused the team. JJ furrowed her brows, spinning in her chair to face the older woman.
“You never go home early, not even on Friday nights.” She noted before a smirk took over her face. “Unless, Emily has somewhere to be.” She teased, causing Garcia to coo as she took a seat next to the blonde. She rolled her eyes, eyeing the clock as she estimated the time of your arrival.
“I didn’t sleep much last night, I’m tired.”
“And why didn’t you sleep much, hm? Were you too busy, say, entertaining other parties?” She flipped the woman off before disappearing past the doors, cursing herself for staying so late before rushing to her car. She started the engine in no time, instantly pulling out of her spot as she followed the coordinates. Her mind never once left you, and she started to worry if she absentmindedly blew a light or took a wrong turn. But she didn’t care, all she wanted was to get home to you.
Her fist came pounding on the wooden door, her gaze falling on every crack and seam that could be used as easy entry, she’d have to warn you about those.
“Em? I, uh, what are you doing here?” You questioned, only to be silenced as she pushed you into your flat, shutting the door behind her while your back hit the cold wall.
“What the fuck, Em-” She cut you off quickly, placing her fingers atop your lips as your breaths became the only sound to fill the room.
“There’s someone after you, and I’m here to protect you.” You furrowed your brows together, kicking away her digit as she towered over you. Her gray hair framed her face, and every line only showed her experience.
“Wha- Why isn’t my mom here, then?” She bit her lip, causing you to repeat yourself. She knew she had to act fast before threatening your trust in her lie.
“They don’t know, okay? Look, you have to trust me-”
“No, I want to know what the fuck is going on.” You pushed, scoffing when she remained silent for far too long. She shoved your shoulders back, forcing you to remain still as she took a moment to admire your expressions in a time of such weakness.
“There’s someone from my past that- that the team doesn’t exactly know about, and when I parked here last week to give you back that sweater you forgot at your mom’s, I noticed his car and I saw him leave the moment he saw me. I- I can’t risk putting you in danger, and since I already have, I’m going to do everything in my power to protect you from it.” It wasn’t entirely false, there was a time in her life when she was haunted by her past, causing her arrival in Paris. But that was when you were so young, you wouldn’t remember a single thing, which she used to her advantage.
“You don’t need to believe me, but all I ask is that you let me stay here, and you let me protect you.” You bit back a snarl and sighed, brushing her off as you brought yourself to the couch.
“I don’t have a spare, you can take the bed.”
“No, this is your place, I’m not going to take that from you. I say we share but if that’s not what you want, then I’ll have the couch.” She debated, crossing her arms over her chest as she examined the building. She wanted it to seem like she was checking in fear of danger, but really she was trying to get a picture-perfect memorization over every inch. That way she could have a better view from beneath her blankets when her fingers were buried deep inside of her.
“Fine, we’ll share.” You mumbled, clicking through endless amounts of channels before losing hope and tossing the remote to the side.
“You don’t have to stand there like a brick wall, you know. We’ve known each other since I was little, you’re allowed to speak.” She took a breath before taking the spot next to you, adjusting her suit jacket before ruffling it off. Your eyes fell to the biceps threatening to break past the tight blouse, but looked away before she could spot you, little did you know she knew the entire time.
“So, you graduated correct?” You nodded, leaning on your hand as your elbow rested on the wooden frame of the sofa. “What was your major again? Psychology?”
“Yeah, I guess I just really wanted to follow down my Mom’s footsteps.” She mimicked your pose, letting the tightness in her muscles loosen with a sigh.
“Well, I think she’d be very proud of her little girl following her lead. In fact, JJ goes on and on about how lucky she is to have a child like you, and I agree, she is quite lucky.” She chuckled at your darkened cheeks, using her thumb to stroke the soft skin after brushing a hair out of the way. It felt right being with you like this, everything seemed to feel right with you. She didn’t know why, no brain she studied had ever given her a clear image as to what differed from hers. She just felt so protective over you, she didn’t want anyone else to get close to you. Knowing you were here, all alone, with no protection until she arrived, it scared her more than she could express.
“I don’t know about that,”
“I mean it! Anyone would be so happy to have someone like you in their life, not only are you such a hard worker, but you’re also the sweetest person I know. Just don’t tell your Mom I said that, she thinks she’s my favorite.” You laughed, slapping her chest lightly as you felt your chest warm. You instinctively shuffled closer, your feet digging under her legs to search for warmth while her hand rubbed your thigh softly to provide you heat.
“Now I feel bad for yelling at you by the door.” You admitted, bringing her to scoff playfully, showing that she wasn’t truly mad at you.
“Oh, don’t stress it, love, I would be pretty annoyed if someone came pounding at my door too.” You gave her a soft smile, letting the comforting silence embrace the both of you before you leaned your head onto her shoulder. She kissed the top of your head gently, getting a small whiff of your shampoo, making her hum in delight.
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An hour later she found herself lying next to you, sighing as the comfort of the sheets embraced her. You were in the next room brushing your teeth, and she didn’t try to stop herself as she peeked under the short bottoms you wore.
“I’m keeping my gun nearby, I hope that’s alright with you.” You crawled next to her, tossing the covers over your frame as you shut off the small lamp. She did the same, frowning as your back turned to face her.
“Yeah, that’s okay.” She hesitated before wrapping her arms around your tired body, letting her face press into your neck with a soft smile. You stiffened but eventually relaxed in her hold. You let yourself fall into a slumber, a peaceful sensation falling over you as images flashed through your mind regularly.
Emily admired the softness in your small snores, she felt grateful to be let in, but she felt worried at how easily you let her pass by with a lie. Anyone could’ve made up something similar and got free entrance, she was just lucky you knew her well enough to trust her.
She knew there was no hope in holding back now, this is what she came to do, to make you hers. She didn’t care if you were her best friend's child, you were old enough to make your own decisions and she was going to lead you into making the right one.
“‘M sorry, baby girl, I promise I’ll make you enjoy it.” Her fingers trailed below your large shirt as they pinched your sore nipples, her breath coming out shallow as her eyes fluttered shut. She pressed her crotch into your backside, letting her false cock rut into you.
“You wouldn’t mind if I just,” She brought them lower, causing her palm to rub against your clit as she teased your tight hole. “Touch you right here, would ya’, baby?”
She wished you were as pure as she wanted you to be, she wanted to be your first but could easily tell that she wasn’t. Instead, she let herself picture it late at night when she was all alone. She’d draw her digits in-and-out of you while you clung onto her, begging her to let you cum for the first time. She hoped you thought about it too, but she doubted it. She could read anyone, but you were like a closed book someone forgot to pick up.
“Fuck, you’re so warm, I could stay like this forever.” She inhaled the residue of your perfume and lotion, they were fading but she basked in all of it. She could feel her wetness grow, biting her lip as she continued to grind into your backside. The strap teased her clit, bringing her great ounces of pleasure.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” She kissed down your shoulder blade as her mouth parted, a loud moan escaping her. You shuffled in your sleep, your eyes fluttering open as you adjusted to the dark room with minimal light coming from the window. You gasped, your hand falling to meet her touch. Her fingers were plunged deep inside of you, thrusting in and out as you gushed around her.
“F…fuck! Em, g-get off,” She chuckled, using her free hand to rid you of your bottoms completely. A slap came to your ass, eliciting a groan from your end.
“If you really wanted me to stop, you would’ve left by now.” You looked down, noticing she was no longer keeping you hostage in her hold. You still didn’t move, gulping as you settled in. Truth was, you had a crush on the older woman since your teen years. It was normal in the beginning, that was until you moved out and your loneliness grew. With the loneliness came a deep arousal that was unable to be removed, the only way to cure it was desperate women at the bar that reminded you of the woman. Your fingers were never enough, but you knew hers would be more than needed.
“Please, Emily-“ You chewed your lower lip, regretting the words the moment they left you. She smirked through a chuckle, sighing as she slowed her pace, bringing a high-pitched whine from past your lips.
“What was that? Please, what, Y/N?” When you came up unresponsive, she repeated her question, slowing even further until she was stilled completely.
“No- d-do that again, please,” Your hand lowered under your shirt as you palmed at your chest, shuddering as your sensitive nipples hardened to a peak.
“Mm, aren’t I already giving you what you want? I thought you wanted me to stop, so I stopped.” You couldn’t bear to face her, not in this moment, not in this level of heat.
“I…I want you to keep going, it feels really, really fucking good.” She hummed, and that’s when you felt the strap pressed into you. You were so consumed in the threshold of her long digits, you failed to notice what else she was planning.
“God, I want to fuck this ass so damn bad. You want that? You want Mommy to fuck your tight ass, yeah?” Her breath was ragged, her lips in a frenzy on your neck. You choked out a whimper, nodding your head slowly as you mumbled a small agreement.
“Would I be the first, hm? Is Mommy going to be the first to stretch out this little hole?” She lowered her pants, the fabric tight against her skin as they were a borrowed pair from you. You insisted she got out of the jeans she wore to work, even if they fit her body perfectly.
“You’re the first, Mommy.” That was all the permission she needed as she thrusted her hips forward, the tip teasing your hole in a rough, yet gentle manner. Her lips came close to your ear, her teeth sinking into the skin as you yelped in pain.
“Oh, don’t I love making you cry like a whiny little bitch.” She eased in the first few inches for what felt like years but only lasted a few minutes. It felt painful, as if there was a fire pooling inside of you. That was until it slowly started turning pleasant, causing a satisfying sensation to take over you. Her digits slid in and out of you slowly, her thumb taking to rub your clit in small circles, but it was enough to cause your brain to fog up. Your tongue peeked its way past your lips, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your hips had a mind of your own, grinding against both penetrating objects.
“Such a good fucking girl, Mommy loves her little girl so much.” You cried out, gripping her arm tightly as you shoved your face into the pillow to muffle the noises she forced out of you.
“No, no, you’re going to let me hear every single moan and whimper and cry; I’m not letting you off that easily.” Her length was now more than halfway through the barrier you set. You followed her hand, feeling a small bulge touching the surface. You pushed yourself impossibly closer to her, letting out a weak whimper.
“Mommy, I,” Your legs shook as you clenched tightly around her, soaking her fingers in your sweet nectar.
“It’s okay, baby, make a mess all over me. That’s it, Mommy is so proud of you, sweetheart.” She drove her hips with a harsher pace, watching as your hole squeezed her until she could barely move. She didn’t stop her ministrations, making you twitch in excitement and pain.
“It’s t-too much, Mommy.” She rubbed your clit faster, her groan evident as your juices sprayed across the sheets. You wept loudly, not caring for the neighbor's complaints the next day, they already disliked you, there was no point in trying to amend that.
“No, it’s not. You can go back to sleep, dove, Mommy just wants to play for a little bit longer.” You both knew there was no possibility of you resting after this, you’d both be continuing until the sun rose.
“Your Mom is going to fucking kill me, but, God, I want to taste you so bad.” Your eyes widened as you remembered the plans you and your mother were having the next day. She was supposed to come over for lunch before the two of you would leave to go shopping as she insisted you needed decorations for your new apartment. Emily couldn’t be here when she arrived, she’d instantly get an understanding of who left the dark marks over your neck, anyone who saw you would easily be able to guess the activities that were to be had the night prior, but it didn’t help that it was her job to read people like books.
“I don’t care, just fuck me, Mommy…please?” The moment you spoke she knew she was going to fulfill whatever request you made, and your small, tired voice only proved that. She bit her tongue, leaning close as she placed her digits on your lower lip, dragging it down as you took the offering with a grateful sigh.
“Whatever my girl wants, they get.”
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