#bitch that’s like saying ‘don’t like don’t read’ applies to the comments i leave on your fic

[bat-kidsarebi-kids]

​

Reminder that people can see your bookmark names and tags etc unless you bookmark it as private

[traumasurvivors]

Honestly, it’s exhausting running a positivity blog. There is so much negativity on my posts. Sometimes aggressive, or people saying “this doesn’t apply to me” or “this doesn’t apply in this situation though”. And it’s tiring. It’s tiring to read through my activity feed. Sometimes I’m trying so hard to be positive and offer supportive words and the negativity hits me a lot harder when I’m in a depressive episode. I genuinely feel exhausted by a lot of the comments people leave.

I’m not saying this for sympathy or even to whine but I kind of want to talk about it because I don’t think most people do this intentionally and maybe there’s a chance that when they realize the negative effects their comments can have might think twice? It’s not just me that finds this draining. I see it everywhere.

Someone posts a video of their popular dog and there are comments “oh my god, I’m going to be so sad when the dog dies” and I’ve seen owners politely asking people not to leave comments like that because it’s upsetting to think about. But they’re endless. I get so heartbroken thinking about the day my dog dies, and I know it’s inevitable but if I had people reminding me on all my posts about my dog, I’d be so upset.

I’ll see someone share a video of a happy moment with their family and the comments are full of people talking about how “it must be nice. My family isn’t like that”. And your feelings are so valid. You deserve to be able to talk about it. I’m just asking that maybe you think about where you’re talking about it.

I make a post that says something like “be gentle with your past self” and there will be dozens of comments and asks I receive that say “no fuck that bitch.” Like you’re so allowed to feel that way, but it’s tiring to get asks about it.

I know there will be people who go on about “it’s a public platform. You sign up for this”. But whether that’s true or not, I still think it’s worth saying because it might open someone’s eyes.

There will also be people who say “if you can’t handle it, stay off the internet”. Me venting about it, or saying that it’s frustrating doesn’t mean I can’t handle it. It just means I’m coping by talking about my feelings. That’s all.

[moonpascal]

Not Again

summary: spiderman ends up on your fire escape…again

warnings: mentions of blood, 18+ reader and peter parker, language, possibly ooc, lots of dialogue, idk what else

any peter parker x f!reader l wc: 780 (thought it was longer)

a/n: rewrote this at least 20 times and this version i’m at least ok with more than the others. considering it’s been in my drafts forever. still new at writing and suck ass at being descriptive as i want to be. hopefully it’s enjoyable, if so leave a like, comment or reblog <3

“I really am sorry for showing up two nights in a row” Spiderman sighed.  

“Ya sure I bet you are, especially after I told you I don’t have a first aid kit or know jack shit about what I'm doing,” you grumbled. It was too late or too early—who the hell knows. All you knew was that you had work in the morning, and poorly assessing the Spiderman was not on your to-do list. 

Lightly dabbing the washcloth against the exposed areas of the suit, careful not to apply too much pressure, but no matter how delicate you were it didn't take the pain away. 

How he managed to land on your fire escape yesterday and to purposely come again tonight was beyond you. Why couldn’t he land somewhere who was a nurse or owned a damn first aid kit! Even though tonight’s assets are not as roughed up as yesterdays. From what you could see, it seems like he healed a bit.

“Just a tip, but you should learn to dodge when someone is coming at you,” you smirked trying to lighten the mood. Being up this early made you delirious when it’s this late at night; anything and everything is funny when it’s two in the morning. He must think you’re pretty funny when he huffs and his shoulders shake a bit before groaning at the movement.

“I got a tip for you and it’s pink.” Heat instantly rushes to your face, the shock evident when you pause. You quirk an eyebrow at him, “That mask confidence really gettin to you, or did you get hit in the head too many times today?”

“Bit of both, I watched this streamer guy and he said it. I’ve been itching to say it.” If he had the mask off you might think he’s smirking at you. But all you get to see is the white lens’s from the suit adjusting looking at you. 

“I’m not surprised, you seem like someone who watches streamers.” He scoffs as you start wringing out the last of the blood from what was a white cloth. There's no point in keeping it now. Sliding out of the dining chair, grabbing the bowl and littered trash accumulated around you guys.

“I do appreciate your help and that I landed on your fire escape.” 

“My sleep says otherwise. How did you end up on mine of all places in the first place?” It’s been running marathons in your head since yesterday's incident. The apartment balcony looked like everyone else’s -plain- and in between levels, not even the top floor. 

“Web snapped, ran out of web fluid last minute,” he shrugged, as if that’s the most normal thing in the world. Web fluid? Like it comes out of him- eww gross—not even gonna think about it. 

Glancing at the stove, the green glow of the clock saying it was indeed time to go back to bed. Having to be up in a few hours for a stupid meeting, that you didn’t have to be there for only to be the office bitch- which isn’t even your job- but it paid wellish. At least enough to afford this place.  

“I’m glad I could be of assistance spidey, you're welcome to my couch, but I’m going to head to bed. I have a long day tomorrow.”

He shifts in the chair before slowly standing up gripping his side. He starts limping towards the window, and groans as he opens the stubborn thing. “See you tomorrow night, my guardian angel.”

“No sir, I won’t be here tomorrow night,”you laughed. Turning all the lights off till you got close to him. You could feel his shock just staring at you even if the mask hid his expression. It’s almost too easy to read him like this. 

“And why not?” He questioned with a hint of too much sass. Popping his hip out and placing his hand there. 

“I’m started to suspect you’re getting hurt on purpose to see me,” you copy his pose with just enough dramatics. “Anyways I have a date,” you shrugged. First one in a while at that and a girl has needs that’ll hopefully be fulfilled, but it’s best not to get your hopes up too high. 

“A date? At 2 in the morning?” 

“Yeah if it ends well,” you smirk. He drops his pose before not so gracefully trying to get out the window. 

“Oh yeah makes sense, right well enjoy your date,” he stutters before slamming the window shut, enough to shake the pictures you have hanging on the wall. 

You sigh, latching the lock and trudging back to the comfort of your bed. 

[agonycrossbow]

I know that a lot of people write smut just because they’re trying to purge themselves of impure thoughts (what if I wrote this entire post like I was trying to lead a sermon), but that’s like. A basic bitch approach to smut writing.

Smut is one of the best opportunities to do a character and/or relationship study, because sex is when characters are at their most vulnerable. The most powerful sexual organ in the human body is the brain -- so, if you’re not digging into a character’s brain when you’re writing them fucking, you’re not doing it right. Characterization matters in smut. A lot. More than it does in other types of scenes, I’d argue. And, chances are, your audience is reading your smut because they’re also fans of the character you’re writing for, so they want to get the emotions and perspective of that character.

So fucking stop taking generic porno dialogue and putting it in your goddamn smut fics, you jackals.

If you’re writing Remake Leon specifically...

... and you actually have him saying the words “cock” or “pussy” I need you to close whatever PornHub tab you have open and focus on what the hell it is you’re actually writing.

In RE2make, Leon actually self-censors a lot and seems to actively try not to swear. It still comes out here and there, but he’s very mindful of the words that he uses and seems like he doesn’t ever want to come off as rude -- even when he’s pissed/heated.

In RE4make, that has changed and now Leon throws f-bombs around like they’re flash grenades -- but he’s still not really openly vulgar with it. He ignores and doesn’t comment on all of the sexual passes that get thrown at him -- and, in some cases, aggressively ignores them (Ada literally offers him sex in their very first conversation, and he just says nothing) -- and he even seems kind of uncomfortable just calling Krauser an asshole, but there just isn’t a better word to use that would capture what he’s trying to convey.

And that’s the word “asshole” not even being used literally. Just figuratively. Colloquially. And even that’s kind of like “ehhhh” for him.

I don’t really think that this is the guy who’s going to actually say to you that he wants to taste your pussy. I just don’t. Even though I’m sure he super does want to do that.

He’s also probably not the guy who’s going to say explicitly what he’s going to do to you.

But what Leon does do a lot is give affirmations and seek validation and constantly check in with Ashley. He also has something to prove. Like, this is the guy who will say out loud, even if there’s no one around “Not bad, right?” after killing some dudes -- so, that’s probably more along the lines of what you’d hear him say in bed. It’d be a lot of:

“Like that?”

“Is this what you wanted?”

“I’ll take care of you.”

“That’s so fucking good/hot.”

“I know how you want/like it.”

“How’s that feel?”

“I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

Probably the most explicit he’d get would be something along the lines of: “You make me so fucking hard.”

By the time of RE4make, he’s also very comfortable with giving commands -- and I think that’s where a lot of smut writers get tripped up. Commands don’t have to be vulgar to be explicit and hot -- and since Leon doesn’t seem comfortable going vulgar with it, his commands would be very simple, very stern, and hot due to what’s left unsaid.

“Come here.”

“Eyes on me.”

“Turn over.”

“Talk to me.”

“Louder.”

“Keep going.”

“Take this off.”

And, for this, probably the most explicit command he’d give would be something like: “Touch yourself.”

So, like -- yeah, the implication there is “rub your pussy/stroke your cock” -- but “touch yourself” still gets the job done and even leaves the door open for some creativity. You don’t have to use the words -- and, I don’t think he would.

If you’re writing OG Leon...

Most of the above still applies, but you could probably get away with being a bit more vulgar, because he has that uh. Chronic Whoring Problem. But I still don’t think he’d be too over the top with it. He’d pull out the vulgarity very sparingly and only for effect.

OG Leon is the kind of guy who will smack your ass and say, “Take your pants off, slut” because he thinks that’d get you excited, but then he’d proceed to call you “sweetheart” and “good girl” for the entire rest of the time you’re in bed with him.

He’d also probably pull out the vulgarity if he was with someone who was too shy/embarrassed to ask for what they wanted, so he’d just say it for them in the bluntest, dirtiest way possible -- and then never talk like that again for the entire rest of the time, because he’s also kind of embarrassed by having said it, though he’d never admit that out loud; he just wanted to get his partner to come out of their shell more.

There’d also be a bit more ego/arrogance to what he says vs his Remake counterpart. Like, instead of just “Talk to me” the command from OG Leon would be something more along the lines of “Tell me how good that feels.”

And that

That is a whole fucking post I just wrote.

This post exists now.

Here it is.

I’ll never get the time back that I spent writing it.

Also don’t forget to put emotions in your smut, people. Goddamn it.

[knucklegagging]

Fifty Shades of Chestpains is my Soul-Sister

Starting this morning off right (debatable) by triggering the fuck out of myself binge-watching this guy’s groovy channel on youtube (check him out!) Maybe if I’m thin enough, eventually he’ll make a deep dive on me. Lol jk, anonymous land is my sacred place. I would hate for anyone to be able to pin a face to my vent sessions. No one needs to ever know I’m the bitch who’s mom took naked photos of me and w my then-dad taught me how to purge, hand stuffed in my gaping mouth begging to go to bed, not being allowed to sleep in second fucking grade till I “got it all out like a good girl” because I had taken two benadryl instead of one by accident (their own fault, they should have been communicating instead of casually handing me pills to make me drowsy enough to sleep). Without tumblr I have to keep these thoughts inside of me. Tumblr is the only place where you can be honest about what happened and people don’t go “oh honey i’m so sorry that happened to you” *BARFS IN CHEESECAKE* because all of us are just making fucked up jokes trying to process through our own shit and laughing writing out “same” in the comment sections. Y’all are like the fake family I should’ve had. The ones who don’t act like assholes or make me swallow up the truth cuz they’re worried about their own dirty laundry getting dragged in the street if I acknowledge that they’d kick me out just to call the cops on me and pretend they were worried about me being a flight risk so that the cops would get me sectioned in the psych ward. Great job fucktards. From like age ten and up you already had maneuvered enough stupid pawns to get everyone believing I was the crazy one. As though your lies even make sense. Tell me, what child would run away from a healthy house? Wouldn’t the logical conclusion be that the child isn’t safe? It’s a fucking child. And when a kindergartener tells the teacher that mommy ‘s taking photos of them naked, don’t you think that teacher should have done something other than chastise the kid for bringing up inappropriate conversations that ought not be talked about?  I don’t care that she thought it was tasteful. How can a naked child be tasteful? Then she goes and sends the pics to people for Christmas like it’s totally normal to make a tiny child pose completely naked on a bed of scratchy tulle. I remember having to apply lotion every day for over three months to places that shouldn’t have seen tulle. I’m on a tangent of traumatic shit no one should ever need to read, especially this early in the morning. But, I guess my point is that it’s nice that I can be real. It’s nice that people don’t act like my mother was a saint here because she was a beacon of charismatic masking in more than one church.  And as fucked up as shit is, or has been, (these days nothing is wrong which is lovely but I’m still stuck processing the past over and over wondering when it’s going to break me and scared to leave my house because if I die and nothing majorly positive has happened to offset my life, then all myhopes of an eventual balancing scale are total bullshit) well... fuck. At least I have 50Shades of Chestpains (ironically my chestpains have been having fun ww me all morning and won’t seem to budge away) cuz he at least seems to get the complexities enough to try shining a light on all of these situations. And yes, of course it’s triggering, but mostly I think it’s a relief. It’s nice knowing that I’m not alone. It’s nice to have this zen garden of anorexia fuckery where video after video I can see and say “hey! that one sounds like me! I’m not the only one who’s stuck in this!” Like tumblr. I think we really get a bad rep like we’re trying to force each other to get sicker. I wish more people could understand that it’s not the goal, it’s an unpleasant side effect *SOMETIMES* and that the focal point in progress is being able to go “oh fuck thank goodness I’m not the only one. Thank goodness that for once I don’t have to posture. Thank fucking goodness there’s one place left where I’m allowed to be truthful without dumb people with perfect lives saying dumber things with imperfect timing. Tumblr is my butter. It makes me feel a little bit more heavy. A ;little less likely that I’m going to float away. You guys are awesome! xoxo

[whats-wild-to-you]

Can I request for a make-up sex scenario? Thank you!

okay, so this took a turn 😳🫣 wow …

NSFW 🍑🍆💦 🥵

READ ONLY AFTER DARK

___________________________________________

You rarely fought with Jay but when you did, you made sure to cause a scene. Somewhere you had read that in a healthy relationship couples should fight and makes up quickly.

Jay almost never engaged in your silly fights, as he called them, knowing that you caused them unnecessarily.

A friend of you had also told you about the make-up sex and now you needed to experience it firsthand.

After causing an unnecessary scene, Jay went on to avoid you and the confrontation but you wouldn’t let him.

“Where are you going? We’re not done!”

“I am.”

“You’re avoiding me? So you’re guilty!”

“I’m avoiding you because you’re wrong.”

“So that bitch didn’t flirt with you last night? She stopped short of giving you a lap dance when she saw me staring. What did you say? Did you tell her you have a girlfriend.”

“Yes.”

“Liar! I was watching you the whole time. You didn’t say a word. Because you liked it.”

You knew better not to go to the club with Jay, but it was also the only way to keep an eye on him.

“As if I would cheat in a club full on people who know we’re together?”

“Your car was waiting outside.”

“Stop.”

“I’m just saying, it’s easier for you to cheat than it is for me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’d have to work on a guy to get him to show interest in me and then we’d have to do it in my car because we couldn’t come here and-”

“Stop it! You’re bluffing!”

“Men flirt with me. Occasionally. I just don’t flirt back.”

“As you should!”

His last comment sparked a flame in you. So it was ok for him to flirt back but it was off-limits for you?

“Say that again?”

“You heard me.”

“I don’t think I did.”

Determined to teach him a lesson you went into your bedroom and searched your closet for your sluttiest party outfit. The one that screamed I’m single and looking to fuck.

“What are you doing?”

“I feel like going to the club!”

You answered nonchalantly, undressing in front of Jay. After you had dressed, you went to the bathroom, Jay following close behind you.

“In that outfit? You’re joking, right?”

He watched you as you brushed your thick, luscious hair and applied ruby red lipstick.

You bumped into him on your way to your closet, slipping into your 5 inch heels.

You smirked into the floor-length mirror, watching Jay who stood behind you, jaw on the floor.

Coincidentally this was the exact outfit you wore the first time you met Jay in the club. You had retired the dress after you and Jay started dating.

“Take that off! You’re not leaving the house dressed in this.”

Provocatively, you stepped closer

to him, almost whispering.

“I remember you liking it a lot back then.”

Come on, you fool! Get angry!

He pinned you down to the wall with such force, you bumped your head, wincing involuntary.

“I said take it off.”

His voice was calm, enunciating every word but he was breathing fast and his skin was red.

You glared back at him, challenging him to fly off the handle.

You had been craving angry, sloppy makeup sex for a while and now you realized you were this close to getting it.

“Let me go.”

You said through gritted teeth, trying to free your wrists from his grip. But it was nearly impossible. Jay then freed up one of his hands by grabbing both your wrists and pinning them over your head with.

The other hand grabbed your jaw, holding your head in place, making sure your eyes were on him.

“Do it, or I will!”

Finally!, you were doing mental cartwheels as you raised a perfectly tweaked eyebrow.

Jay laughed devilishly as he started ripping the dress off your body, completely destroying it, angrily throwing shreds of fabric on the floor around him.

You stood there in your underwear, while Jay was panting, anger now evident in his eyes. You stuck your tits out, challenging him to rip off your underwear as well.

You licked you lips while waiting for him to catch on and saw in real time how his anger turned into lust.

Yes! That’s it!

He mirrored your actions by licking his own lips, his eyes resting on your bouncy breasts.

I’ve been a bad girl, punish me!, your eyes pleaded with him and you smirked when he slowly began unbuttoning his pants.

He stopped short of taking them off and removed his shirt instead. Your tongue licked over his skin and erect nipples while you got rid of his pants simultaneously.

Knowing that you wouldn’t even make it to the bed, you dropped on your knees, savoring Jay’s glorious dick. His hands held your head in place, shoving it further down your throat. He continued shoving his dick in your mouth ever after you started gagging. Your eyes watered, smudging your mascara. After pulling his dick out, he made you made drop on all fours, using the belt of his jeans as a leash. You bit into it, forced to throw your head back as Jay pulled on it. You arched your back as much as you could and saw in the floor-length mirror Jay towering over you. 

With his thumb he brushed over your clit, spreading your moisture, before his dick disappeared in between your wet folds.

You uttered a cry, both delighted and shocked by his aggressiveness. He moaned when he spread you cheeks and penetrated you even deeper. Every time you responded to his thrusts he would increase the pace until you were delirious and unable to even think. Reaching in between your wide-spread legs, you felt Jay’s fingers rubbing your pussy violently until you squirted. He kept drilling into you mercilessly until your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you finally orgasmed. Soon after you felt his cum coating your walls, excessively dripping on the floor.

“Wow!” You exclaimed when you came back to your senses. Jay was still hovering above you, his dick leaving drops of cum on your lower back. Slowly he helped you up to your feet and guided you to the bathroom. While you were still wobbly, your mind was exhilarated and you spoke frankly.

“You should get angry more often!”

[star-mum]

Good fucking morning lovelies, guESS WHO WOKE UP TO GREAT NOTIFICATIONS ON HER PHONE ?????

I'm very excited to read this but it's also 6am so excuse me for any comments that are too weird (or just don't make sense at all)

Starting off with a GORGEOUS COVER !!!!!! I loooove fic covers sm (and both of the spence pics chosen are just scrumptious 😋)

"But that's how the math works out" 😔 not math, again 😔

"A patient killer with an extended timeline who likely wouldn’t kill again for months" that's always so great for us 🫠

"Protecting the children is just a byproduct of his obsession over these women" hooraayy 🙃

"dozen stab wounds to their stomachs and genital areas." yeah uhm I don't feel really sAFE RIGHT NOW !!!!

"white carnations" i don't know a lot about flowers but these feel like a gravestone type of flower

HGTVs website: "When given on Mother's Day, they also are said to bring a mother good luck" DO YOU KNOW ABOUT FLOWERS ????? OR DID YOU LOOK THIS UP ??? WHAT !!!! WHAT !!!

okay i figured out why I got death vibes from them, it's cause they look A LOT like the flowers in Promised Neverland (i refuse to give out any more context)

"It’s not uncommon for killers to emotionally fetishize dead bodies and consider them more ‘pure’ than their living counterparts.” welcome to the stage Dr Reid !!!

“Yeah, but preschools typically have large waitlists.” i mean... not be an asshole but some of you bitches are really dumb (ik Plot but Pen would've checked that the moment they asked about preschools !!!!) (well... early seasons Pen) (the further we go the more they seem to just use her as a sentient computer and less of relying on her smarts as a whole) (tHis IS NOT THE TIME FOR THIS !!!)

"Oh, my Adonis, if I don’t have your trembling anticipation, I have nothing" I have nothing if not time for these two and their antics

"typical survey schlock,” love having my data stolen and sold for profit "The ‘optional’ part of the forms is sold off to other companies" yEP YEAH THERE WE GO

"and some even larger threats of being detained for impeding an FBI investigation" delicious (in my minds eye this came mostly from Emily and Hotch)

"easily became quiet in Spencer’s ears when he saw it." lets fucking goooooo ga(y)mersssss

"What the hell were you doing applying for preschools?" 😚 guess 😚

"It wasn’t difficult math" FOR YOU !!!!!

"Maybe you had cheated on him" woooowwwww you're counting the days we've been apart for and tHIS IS WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY ? WOOOOWWWWW

"Spencer still wasn’t even completely sure what had caused it" now we both know that's not true, Brain Blast

"on the current field team" sunny your words are hurtful

"having you, Elle, and Gideon leave his life all in a matter of a few months felt like hell on earth" suNNY YOUR WORDS ARE HURTFUL !!!!!

“I could not imagine little twenty-four year old Spence with a baby.” I can 🫣

"That was not something JJ had considered" ??? not everyone (looks pointedly at Will) enjoys getting cucked, JJ

"He was glad to already see signs that you were a good mother" just because you parented yourself dOES NOT MEAN I WANT PARENTING TIPS FROM YOU BITCH BOY !!!!

(for anyone reading this for the first time, I know more of what actually happened so that's why Im so aggro at Spencer) (im yn she is me, I will take her grievances as my own)

"Because of course, she could get your new address in a heartbeat" awwnn Pen, creepy <3

"The first night that he knew he was in love with you" yaaaay we get to be happy !!!!

"Virginia Symphony Orchestra" the song Cecily Smith will not begin to play on loop for this entire section :3

"You know, Bach actually married his cousin" 🙃 why must every historical figure dabble in some weird shit 🙃

"They had the same surname before marriage.” noooooooo that's the worst possible option

"Why don’t people play the organ anymore?" follow up question: why are they called organs ? weird name for a regular thing (like a big ass piano right?) in multiple different languages

"Bach a sort of ‘rockstar’ of his time." baby Spencer you are everything to me

"“Yes!” Spencer grinned, suddenly very excited by the explanation behind this" 😩😩😩 he's my favorite guy ever

"being around Spencer for such short periods of time caused you to learn so many things" the power a Knows Everything And Info Dumps Constantly x Asks Random Questions All The Time couple has is indescribable

"the Duke actually had him arrested and put in jail for several weeks in 1716.” daaaamn jail for musician for a thousand years for cheating (i guess)

"reach out and grab Spencer by his tie - you pulled him toward you" YEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHH !!!!! Literally every single person in this fandom cheered

"Spencer let out a gentle moan" >:3

"He had no clue where it all went so wrong" I still don't fucking buy that okay? like he has NO IDEA ???? EIDETIC MEMORY AND HE HAS NO IDEA ????? I think Spencer has repressed that night (and that over all storm of pain) so badly that he has truly not thought about it in detail for the past 4 years BUT !!! The moment he lets himself look back at it he will know exactly what he did/said (he's not stupid and he was aiming to hurt, he got what he wanted)

BEAUTIFUL GORGEOUS OUTSTANDING NEVER THE SAME !!!! I loooove this series already, I'm even more excited about fridays from now on <33

Bonus - I read it on ao3 and I KNEW this would fucking happen (which is hilarious)

Careful - Chapter One

(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader

Chapter One: Over Yet

We can go farther, beyond the end.

Summary:

You and Spencer broke up more than four years ago. Since then, he has tried his best to forget about you. He has pushed all of his feelings down - locked them away into a little box that he never touches.

That is, until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being stalked and killed by a man who kills single mothers. (And he quickly realizes that your son could be his.)

Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst.

Word Count: 5,900

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Please keep in mind - I am not doing a taglist for this series, so please do not ask to be tagged in future parts. I do not do taglists. If you want to be notified when future parts of this fic are posted, you can follow this blog and turn on notifications here - I don't make personal posts on this blog, it is just pure posts of my fanfiction. Or you can subcribe on AO3 to get email notifications when this series is posted. You can also view the posting schedule on the series materlist and check @tenpintsof-sundrop for any information about possible changes to that schedule.

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of dead bodies, the underlying misogyny that comes with a man killing women, mentions of children being orphaned due to their mothers being killed (though there is no mentions of other living family members taking care of those children - you can imaging that they still have nice families to take care of them if you want, I didn’t fill in that detail), mentions of children being in proximity of a serial killer; exes to lovers - the reader and Spencer broke up and the reason why will be revealed later; mentions of pregnancy/mentions of the reader having a child; mentions of sex that resulted in a child/pregnancy (there is no detailed sex scenes/detailed smut in this chapter, but there will be in other chapters); mentions of JJ x Will; the reader’s looks are described as vaguely as possible; passing mention of incest (in the context of a historical figure); all statements that Spencer makes toward the end of this chapter were heavily researched and are factual; I think that’s about it?

A/N: The reader and Spencer originally dated around Season 1/Season 2 - I state at some point during the fic that they dated for 3 years before breaking up, so they started dating when he was very early Season 1 baby Spence (or even before Season 1) and they broke up around Season 2. So technically this fic takes place around Season 6 - but because I didn't want to distract from the plot, I didn't mention any of the stuff going on with Emily or any of those major canon plot points, and I am using pictures of later versions of Spencer just because that's who I was picturing in my head while writing this. But that's how the math works out. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic!! This chapter is more of an introduction before we really get into the meat of things, but I still hope that you guys like it.

...

The team had been in Portland for three days.

No leads, a confusing, inconsistent profile - huge pieces missing that would likely give them the real answers. 

A patient killer with an extended timeline who likely wouldn’t kill again for months - leaving them chasing their tails, looking for answers. 

“Okay, so, let’s take a step back.” Hotch sighed. “What do we know so far?” 

He leaned against a nearby table, looking at everyone with the hope of reassessing the case from a different angle. The hope of talking it out to get some answers. 

Another woman’s body had been found just before they arrived, and that would mean that the UnSub would be out hunting again soon. This was both good and bad. 

Good, because the UnSub clearly had to spend a lot of time stalking his victims - he knew a lot of details of their lives, and he had spent a lot of time developing an intimate fantasy of being a part of their family in his mind. So he wouldn’t be killing again the next day. No woman was in immediate danger. It gave the team more time to find viable suspects. 

Bad because they had no physical evidence, no good leads. And thus far, the profile was leading them nowhere. It felt incomplete. 

They could find no real connections between the victims - their gyms, their banks, their childcare, their grocery stores. Somehow, the victims didn’t seem to have any crossover in their lives. There was no real way to say how the UnSub had met them. And someone like this - he would have interacted with them at least once in order to become obsessed and stalk them to this degree. 

“Five women dead within the last three years.” Prentiss announced, starting to round up the facts that the team knew for certain. “All of them mothers, all with children under the age of five. All within the same ten square mile radius of Oregon, around Portland’s suburban neighborhoods.” 

She slumped back into her chair with a tired huff, and then continued. 

“The UnSub breaks into their homes through a backdoor or a back window, and somehow goes undetected in such an upscale neighborhood.” She sighed. “He kills the mothers, but he leaves their children alive. And then he calls 9-1-1 to report the death as a case of child neglect.” 

“So he was likely neglected by his own mother in his childhood.” Morgan easily theorized. 

“All of the victims upper-middle class, single mothers to one child with good jobs. All of them are of the same physical type.” Rossi added on. “They’re the same race, they have the hair color, they’re the same body type - all in their late twenties to early thirties. So the UnSub definitely has a type. He’s most definitely recreating a fantasy of some kind - perhaps taking out revenge on his own mother, but protecting himself. Which is why he never hurts the children.” 

“Yeah, but the children are different.” Morgan replied. “Sometimes boys, sometimes girls. Some of them are biracial - he doesn’t look for a specific type in the father. He doesn’t necessarily need to see himself in the children.” 

Then, as another thought occurred to him, Morgan continued on: 

“Plus, the children’s ages vary from barely a year old all the way up to five - if he was looking to seek revenge on his mother, looking to protect a younger version of himself, then he would have locked in on a critical event that he needs to protect himself from. The age of the children would be more consistent, at least, because he would be looking to protect himself as he hits the age that he was most traumatized by a specific event.” 

“That’s good.” Hotch nodded. “Then we know that it’s more about the mothers. He hates women at his core. Protecting the children is just a byproduct of his obsession over these women.” 

“But we still have no clue how these women could be connected or how they met the UnSub.” Morgan replied, jaw stiff with frustration. 

“Focus on what we do know.” Hotch reminded him. 

“All of the women were killed via stabbing. They all had over a dozen stab wounds to their stomachs and genital areas.” Rossi replied. “So, he is an aggressive sexual sadist.” 

“But if he hates women so much, why spend so much time in the house?” Morgan argued gently. “Every single one of these scenes has evidence that the UnSub spent hours - possibly up to a day in the house before he killed them. He cooked dinner, set the table, and made the women eat it before he killed them. Including a second place setting for a child. Some of the kids even said that ‘the scary man’ tucked them into bed and read them a story.” 

He held up one of the crime scene photos that depicted the scene of the family’s place settings - a haunting scene of plates not cleaned up from dinner, with a flower vase sitting in the middle of the table with a few white flowers wilting inside of it. 

“He’s right - why bother to show them the kindness of a last meal if he shows so much aggression toward them during the killing?” Prentiss added on. 

“It’s a routine.” Hotch said, the thought suddenly occurring to him. “It’s likely that he chooses single mothers because he gets to play the role of the father. With the real father figure absent from the picture, it makes it easier for him to impose himself into that role. At least for a temporary amount of time.” 

“It is strange.” Reid added on, clearly swimming in thought. “It’s almost like he’s courting them? Sending them gifts, showing what a good father he could be. Each of the women were sent white carnations sometime in the days before they were killed, and after the killing, he lays the flowers around their head in a halo-like fashion. It is said that carnations represent motherhood, and the white shade could depict an angelic innocence that he’s projecting onto these women.” 

“So he views these women as angelic figures, yet he kills them so brutally?” Prentiss scoffed. “It just doesn’t add up.” 

“Maybe he views the killing itself as a type of purification.” Reid theorized. “It’s not uncommon for killers to emotionally fetishize dead bodies and consider them more ‘pure’ than their living counterparts.” 

Prentiss visibly cringed at this. 

“Wait.” JJ said, looking at one of the crime scene photos with a sharp line pulling her brows together. 

Everyone looked to her, waiting for her to finish this thought. 

“I don’t think that the mothers were the only ones sent gifts.” 

She held up the photo, showing a picture of a colorful child’s play mat in the living room. Everyone stared at the photo in confusion, and JJ sighed and began to explain. 

“Look at this toy truck in the middle.” She said, pointing at something that almost blended into the background of the photo. The true focus was a large handprint - one that belonged to the killer, but he had worn gloves. “It’s wooden, it’s hand-carved, it’s old fashioned. All the other toys are plastic, brightly coloured. Remember what the UnSub said in the second 9-1-1 call?” 

“‘She pretends to have her son’s best interests at heart, but she was going to let him get cancer from sucking on those cheap plastic toys.’” Reid said, repeating it word-for-word, using his impeccable memory. 

“Exactly.” JJ confirmed with a nod. “Clearly the UnSub believes that he would be a good father because he can gift his child something hand-made instead of something mass produced.” 

“Alright, get the crime scene techs back over there to pick up the truck, maybe he wasn’t wearing gloves when he made it and there is some slim chance he left a print on it.” Hotch said, and JJ left to call the crime scene unit. 

This left the team sitting in silence for a few more moments until Reid spoke up again. 

“What about preschools?” He said, suddenly coming out of a wave of thought to announce this to the room. 

“What?” Prentiss prompted, wondering what on earth he was talking about. 

“Preschools.” Spencer confirmed, looking across the table at her. 

“We checked already, none of the victims’ children went to the same preschool.” Morgan reminded him. “Two of the kids didn’t even go to preschool.” 

“Yeah, but preschools typically have large waitlists.” Spencer argued. 

Naturally, all eyes in the room fell on him, waiting for him to explain. 

“In the first 9-1-1 call, the UnSub said that the victim ‘shipped her son off to be cared for by strangers half the time’.” He explained, once again perfectly reciting this from memory. “What if the UnSub resents preschools and the schooling system for taking these children away from their mothers, so he’s choosing his victims off of a preschool waitlist? What if that’s where his obsession stems from because that’s where his rage stems from?” 

Reid jumped up, pointing to the map he had been using to make a geographical profile. 

“All of the victims live within the same school district.” He added on. “So they would be applying to the same group of preschools.” 

“I’ll call Garcia.” Morgan announced. 

A few minutes later, Morgan connected Garcia’s call to the comm on the center of the conference table they were working from. 

“Hey, pumpkin pies.” She greeted them sweetly, as usual. “So it turns out, the preschool that Tommy Laird, and Emily Ashton, the third and the fourth victim had in common, does have a waitlist. But none of the other victims’ names were on it.” 

“Come on, babygirl. I know you’re holding out on me.” Morgan said, giving a small smirk. 

“Oh, my Adonis, if I don’t have your trembling anticipation, I have nothing.” Garcia giggled. “The school’s waitlist, and their applications, are handled by a firm called Gordon & Stanheight. And it turns out, they handle the applications and waitlisting for five other preschools in the area.” 

“Which gives the UnSub a perfect way to pick his victims.” Morgan sighed. “The first interaction that gets him hooked might not even be in person-” 

“Unless he’s picking them out of the line-up on paper and then waiting to meet them in person?” Prentiss replied. “With this type of guy, the smallest smile, a nod in his direction - that could be consent in his mind to play father to a household that’s missing one.” 

“You said they handle forms for five different schools? That just widened the victim pool.” Rossi groaned. 

“And the suspect pool.” Garcia added on. “The firm has thirty male employees. And I did a bit more digging - the preschool applications have ten ‘optional’ questions on the bottom that are definitely not marked as such. Questions directed at the parent filling out the form, rather than vital information about the child. Things such as: ‘what’s your favorite food?’, ‘when is your birthday?’, ‘what’s your favorite color?’, ‘do you plan on having more children?’ - typical survey schlock,” 

“That would explain why the UnSub served Lisa Laird a birthday cake.” Reid sighed. “He knew it was her birthday two days before he killed her.”

“I have a feeling I’m not gonna like where this is going.” Emily sighed. 

“Oh, sugar. You probably won’t.” Penelope easily agreed. “The ‘optional’ part of the forms is sold off to other companies as survey data. And those forms are seen and handled by over a thousand male employees of Gordon & Stanheight’s larger ‘data processing’ sector.” 

“Well the UnSub has to be local to Portland. So narrow down the suspect list based on his last known address and go from there.” Hotch said. “Also, it would be someone who has a criminal record. Someone committing this level of violence wouldn’t be a first time offender.” 

“Gotcha.” Penelope said. “Penny G, out.” 

… 

The team ended up raiding Gordon & Stanheight’s Portland based office. 

After some pointless conversation, some threats of lawsuits, and some even larger threats of being detained for impeding an FBI investigation, the team was able to get their hands on the preschool applications. Over two-dozen boxes worth, that they would have to sort through. 

So this left JJ, Reid, Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss knee deep in paper, looking for anyone who fit the UnSub’s victimology - praying that they would be able to pick out the next victim and get to her before the UnSub did. 

“We’re never gonna get through these fast enough, are we?” Prentiss sighed, continuing to sift through the papers. 

“We just have to go as fast as we can, and hope the UnSub sticks to his schedule.” Morgan replied. “He has to spend time stalking them, learning their routine. Even if he has chosen his victim by now, he won’t break into the house until he’s fully confident that he won’t be disrupted.” 

“And the stalking helps build up the fantasy.” Reid added on. “He romanticizes them from afar, sends them gifts. It adds to his delusions of grandeur and forbidden love. The idea that he’s swooping in to become the perfect father figure for these ‘broken’ families.” 

“So we’re hanging all our hopes on the idea that this psychopath needs time to ‘fall in love’ with his next victim before he kills her?” Prentiss groaned. 

“Sadly, yes.” Rossi confirmed. 

“It helps that most of these applications are from two-parent households.” JJ pointed out. “We can throw out anything with a second applicant on the form, because he’s only targeting single mothers.” 

The rest of the conversation easily became quiet in Spencer’s ears when he saw it. 

It should have been just another page among the sea of paper in his hands, but when he saw those words on the page - that name - it was like a punch to the gut. It pushed all the air out of him in seconds, it made him dizzy, made him struggle to breathe. Like a reel flashing through his mind, it brought back a flood of memories he thought he had locked away forever. 

It was you. 

What the hell were you doing applying for preschools? 

Spencer rushed to tear this paper away from the others in order to read it more carefully. 

Surely enough, the application was filled out in your handwriting. Something that had barely changed over the years. And it was all right there, laid out in front of his eyes, clear as day - 

You had a son. 

A son named Sebastian, who was three years old. Spencer checked the date on the form, eagerly looking for a birth date for your son. His birthday had just recently passed, actually, so he was four years old now. 

And his birth date was… fuck. 

He had been born eight and a half months, almost nine months exactly after the two of you had broken up. Your son had been born eight and a half months after the day you had left and Spencer had never seen you again. 

One thousand, seven hundred and two days. 

Four years, eight months, and two days. 

It wasn’t difficult math. 

Your son was the perfect age to be Spencer’s child. Was this Spencer’s child? 

His hands began to shake at the very thought of it.  

Is that why you had disappeared from his life with such haste? Because you knew that you were pregnant and you didn’t want Spencer to be a part of your child’s life? 

Had you been keeping this from him intentionally? 

He hadn’t thought about you in four long years, he had tried so hard not to. He had spent so long forcing himself not to miss you, and now he was struck with the realization that he might have a child out there with the woman he considered to be his regrettable lost love. A child he didn’t know - a child who he had missed four whole years with. 

What the fuck was going on? 

There were no pictures included with the application, and suddenly, Spencer found himself dying to see the boy. He wanted to know if there was any physical resemblance to himself, or if he was jumping to conclusions. 

Maybe you had cheated on him. Maybe that was why you had left town and never contacted him again. Maybe the kid wasn’t his at all, maybe- 

“Reid.” JJ called out gently, getting his attention. 

Spencer suddenly realized that he was hyperventilating, staring down at the application with your name on it in his hand, wrinkling the paper as he squeezed it more frantically. 

“Did you find something?” 

… 

All in all, the team found four different women who fit the victim pattern in the files - you being one of them. 

So the team split up, ready to knock on each of the womens’ doors, preparing to warn them that if they received any gifts or saw any suspicious men lingering around them in the next few days, they should call. They had to hope that the UnSub wouldn’t move on from this victim pool if he saw the FBI around. But he was overly confident, he had contacted police before. 

It could definitely work. 

When Hotch found out that Spencer had known you, he said that Spencer should be the one to knock on your door. That you might find it comforting to hear that you and your child could possibly be in danger if it were coming from ‘an old friend’. Spencer stuttered over himself and didn’t have the words to explain that you weren’t just a good friend to him, but a romantic flame. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the team by telling everyone that the break-up had been messy, and sudden, and Spencer still wasn’t even completely sure what had caused it. He didn’t want to rip open his old wounds in front of everyone. 

So he simply shut his mouth and got in the car with JJ, and they made their way toward your house. 

…

“So…” JJ’s voice broke through the undulating silence of the car ride - filled by nothing but the sound of the car’s motor running and gears grinding inside Spencer’s mind as he tried to figure all of this out. “I do have to ask the obvious question,” 

“What is that?” Spencer probed, slightly glad to be relieved of his own thoughts. 

He wasn’t so glad when JJ pried those thoughts out of his mind and spilled them to the open air. 

“Is the kid yours?” She wondered aloud. “I mean - when did you and Y/N break up?” 

JJ had known you as Spencer’s girlfriend. 

Come to think of it, she was probably the only person on the current field team who had some kind of a relationship with you back when you and Spencer dated. 

Initially, it had been by accident. JJ had driven him home one night after a particularly long and sleepless case, and you had been coming to his apartment to drop off some books he had asked for (shortly after he had given you a key). When JJ saw you, her natural curiosity got the better of her - even more so when you stuck out your hand and introduced yourself as ‘Spencer’s girlfriend’ without hesitation. 

The two of you got to talking, and JJ invited you to ‘girls night’. You met Elle and Penelope shortly after. You had become pretty good friends with the three of them before the break-up. 

But Spencer had always felt secretive…. well, protective of you. He didn’t want Morgan teasing him about you, or him wanting to have ‘guy talk’ about things that occurred in the bedroom. Not when it might mean talking about intimate moments with you. Spencer had only introduced you to Gideon over coffee about three weeks before the break-up, and that felt like a lifetime ago. 

Back then, having you, Elle, and Gideon leave his life all in a matter of a few months felt like hell on earth. It felt like being grabbed by his ankles and shaken for all he was worth. He really wasn’t sure that he was ready to see you again. 

It had been four years. 

JJ was someone he could lean on right now. 

“Four years ago.” He told her, completely honest. 

“And how old is the kid?” JJ asked. 

“Four - four years old.” Spencer stuttered out, realizing that now as he was speaking about this very real possibility, he might be breathing more life into it. 

“Oh my god.” JJ sighed. “Well… could it-? I mean…? Did the two of you?” 

It took Spencer a moment to clue into what JJ was talking about. He gave her a sideways glance and she took her eyes off the road for a moment, raising her brows and giving him a pointed look. 

“Please tell me you know what does and what doesn’t make a baby,” JJ groaned. 

“Oh!” Spencer huffed, a small wave of embarrassment flooding him. “Yes! God, yes. I know.” 

There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Spencer felt the need to clarify his answer. 

“We - I mean. We…” He trailed off for a moment, clearing his throat. “We didn’t always use… protection. We were together for three years, at the time, it was on the table.” 

“Kids were on the table for you back then?” JJ asked, clearly shocked by this. “I could not imagine little twenty-four year old Spence with a baby.” 

“Well… it’s something I’ve always wanted.” He mumbled quietly in reply. 

It was true. At the time, Spencer easily imagined himself getting married to you, having multiple kids with you. These days, seeing JJ with Henry and Will brought him the occasional underlying pang of jealousy - but since breaking up with you, there hadn’t been anyone else in Spencer’s life that he could have imagined having kids with. He thought that he was going to be alone and childless for the rest of his life. That the dream was long dead for him. 

“Hey - then, maybe this is a blessing in disguise?” JJ posed. “If we hadn’t been looking through those forms because of this UnSub, you never would have found Y/N again. You wouldn’t even know this baby exists.” 

There was another thing that JJ was dying to ask - something she held back because she felt like it was a touch too personal. (Even if ‘too personal’ was basically how the BAU team lived - knee deep in each other’s business, all the time). 

She wanted to know why you had a baby, a baby that Spencer had very likely fathered, and you hadn’t contacted him about it. Spencer seemed entirely clueless about the child’s existence before now, and JJ knew that because of what his own father had been like, he wouldn’t just blow off a kid that was his if he knew that one was out there in the world. 

So why hadn’t you told Spencer about the baby? 

“What if the kid isn’t yours?” JJ wondered aloud. 

Maybe that would unburden him. She knew that either way, Spencer would fight to protect you from the UnSub. But if the kid wasn’t his - he would walk away again, and he wouldn’t have to be hung up on the heartbreak of dealing with his ex just to parent a child together. 

“Honestly… I think I’ll be more heartbroken if I find out that he’s not even mine.” Spencer told her, his voice quiet and already lulling with that disappointment. 

That was not something JJ had considered. She frowned as she saw the sadness paint across Spencer’s face. 

“One thing at a time, alright?” 

…

When they pulled into your driveway, Spencer’s mind immediately began churning. 

It was a nice house. It was a beautiful, quiet neighborhood. The front yard was clean and trimmed and there was a silver SUV in the driveway with a ‘baby on board’ sticker in the rear window. There was a rocking chair on the porch, but he didn’t see many children’s toys out front on the lawn. He guessed that was a good thing. Letting children play in the front where they could run into the street and potentially get hit by a car was too dangerous. He was glad to already see signs that you were a good mother. 

Spencer felt like he was opening up a book halfway, desperately wanting to be filled in on the previous chapters while having missed so much. Still wanting to read ahead and see more. 

He had already missed so much of your son’s life. He had missed you. That was something forming the biggest knot in his gut. He had truly missed you. The times he had allowed himself to think of you over these past few years - he had missed you so dearly. 

And now the two of you likely had a child together. 

Craning his neck to get a better look, desperately trying to take in more information, Spencer’s eyes were wide and hungry as JJ put the car in park by the curb in front of your house. As Spencer reached for the passenger side door handle, JJ’s phone rang. 

“I have to take this.” She sighed. “You go ahead.” 

She gave Spencer a distinct look that said ‘I know you need a minute alone with Y/N’, and he nodded, stepping out of the vehicle while she greeted whoever was on the other line. He smoothed down his tie - for once in his whole life, he was actually worried about how he looked. Only because he knew that he was going to see you. Perhaps he had only ever felt like this before going on his first date with you. 

He had such a strange lashing of emotions going through him as he approached the door. Fear, anxiety, anticipation. Longing. 

He truly had tried so hard to lock away his feelings for you when you had left. He had tried to move on. He had considered, briefly, in passing, dating other women. There had been times when someone else caught his eye, and he considered asking her out on a date. Morgan had offered to ‘set him up’. Penelope had offered too, telling him that he deserved to ‘get back out there’. 

Whenever she asked about you, his heart freshly cracked open. 

At one point, she had advised him to write a long, Shakespearian letter, pouring out his heart to you in an effort to get you back - one which she would mail. (Because of course, she could get your new address in a heartbeat.) But he didn’t want to experience the heartbreak all over again if you ignored him. He didn’t want to sit, waiting by the mailbox every single day like a lost dog, waiting for you to write him back in return. 

You had disappeared from his life for a reason. Just like everyone else had. For a long time, Spencer convinced himself that he was simply meant to end up alone. 

Perhaps if he had known about your son - a child that could very well be his - then he might have felt differently about getting Penelope to contact you. 

But now he was standing at your front door, his fist shaking as he raised his hand to knock. 

He let out a sharp breath and steadied himself, giving three swift, firm knocks against the door and then trying to wait patiently. His heart thumped inside of his throat, and it felt like forever. 

“Sorry!” Your voice called out from behind the door, muffled. “Sorry, I almost didn’t hear you. I was-” 

You cut off your own words as you opened the door - the moment you caught Spencer’s eye and recognized it was him, pure shock fell across your features, and you froze on the spot. 

You were just as stunning as ever. You had barely aged at all - your hair was different than the last time he had seen you, of course. And you were dressed casually - wearing a simple hooded sweatshirt with a drawstring and a pair of jeans with some fuzzy slipper boots on. But pale blue looked so good on you.

So much like the pale blue dress you had worn on your first date with him. 

You were breath-taking. 

“Y/N.” He greeted you, his throat dry already. 

You didn’t say anything, simply continuing to stare him down with wide-eyed shock. 

Seeing you again, Spencer couldn’t help but to think back to that first date. 

The first night that he knew he was in love with you. 

… 

He had taken you to see the Virginia Symphony Orchestra. 

It was Spencer’s idea of a good time - and it ended up being one of the most beautiful, most romantic, most unique first dates that you had ever been on. 

It was difficult not to fall for him with the beautiful music in the air and his glossy eyes, so sickeningly thick with affection, staring you down all night. 

Afterwards, the two of you stopped to get ice cream at a small shop that was a short walk down from the orchestra. And now you were both enjoying your ice cream as you walked along in the cool night air - enjoying the peace and quiet and the gentle breeze in the darkness. 

It was a perfect night. 

Spencer could think of no better way to spend it than with you. The yellow bulbs of the street lights practically cast a glow onto your skin, the mulberry lipstick now worn off your lips as you brought the pink spoon to your mouth and licked up your sweet treat. 

His stomach was churning with nerves. Joyous nerves. 

And as per usual, when he was nervous - he rambled. 

“You know, Bach actually married his cousin.” He said, spouting off the first thing that came to mind. 

You told him that Bach was one of your favorite composers - it’s why he had thought to bring you to the orchestra on a date in the first place. 

“I did not know that.” You giggled. “So what? Was it like a ‘third cousin twice removed’ type situation?” 

Spencer found himself grinning at the fact that you actually engaged him in the conversation, rather than staring at him with an odd look for bringing up such a strange topic. 

“Not quite.” He replied. “They had the same surname before marriage.” 

“Oh, ew.” You chuckled again, giving a shudder at the thought of this. 

Spencer knew it was an odd topic to discuss on a date, and if he rambled on too much, it might freak you out - but he couldn’t stop himself. His mouth ran away with him, and he continued. 

“He married Maria Barbara Bach, and they had seven children together.” He told you. “His sons, Wilhelm Friedemann and Carl Philipp Emanuel became composers and musicians much like their father, which was actually carrying on a legacy started by Bach’s father himself - who was a seventh generation musician. He was the one who taught Bach the organ from a very young age.” 

“Why don’t people play the organ anymore?” You wondered aloud. “Except in churches, I guess. The organ rocks.” 

Spencer’s brain began rocketing off at the fact that you had asked him a question. A question he could answer. 

“The organ has actually long been associated with divinity.” He replied. “The instrument rose in popularity alongside Catholicism throughout the eighteenth century, and in a sense, that was part of what made Bach a sort of ‘rockstar’ of his time. The religious references in his work, and his mastery of the organ - all of it made him incredibly popular at the time because it caused him to be favored by the church and by royal figures associated with the church.” 

Spencer gleamed a large smile, heavily enjoying that he could share these facts with you. He thought for certain that any moment, you would change the subject or imply that he should stop talking. But instead, you engaged the conversation more. 

“Religious references?” You questioned, wondering what he meant by this. 

“Yes!” Spencer grinned, suddenly very excited by the explanation behind this. “Even in his secular music, Bach would often incorporate the acronym ‘INJ’, a Latin abbreviation that means ‘In Nomine Jesu’, or ‘in the name of Jesus’. It was something he put on all of his manuscripts.” 

You grinned back. You found it fascinating that being around Spencer for such short periods of time caused you to learn so many things. It easily made you want to be around him more. 

“Interesting.” You replied. 

“And his talent on the organ was seen as something that made him ‘divine’ at the time. Divine enough to be worthy of performing for royalty.” Spencer added on. “In 1708, Bach got a position as the court organist in Weimer for Duke Wilhelm. And later when he requested early release from this position, desiring to go work for Prince Leopold of Koethen, the Duke actually had him arrested and put in jail for several weeks in 1716.” 

Spencer laughed at this mental image - the composer being put in jail. 

“Ooh, harsh.” You sighed. “But I guess Dukes have too much power.” 

Spencer let out another bright laugh at this. 

“And see, the interesting thing is, Bach later became the conductor of the court orchestra, in which Prince Leopold played.” 

“So he got his wish,” You replied with a smile. 

“And see-” 

Spencer set off on another rant again, and you couldn’t help yourself. You put your spoon into the cup of ice cream and then you used your now free hand to reach out and grab Spencer by his tie - you pulled him toward you before he could get anymore words out, and he let out a shocked, choked-off sound when you pressed your mouth into his. 

He sighed gently against your lips, and unconsciously dropped his own melting chocolate cone on the ground by his feet as his limp hands drifted toward your waist. He was dizzy, and now every single fact he had ever known about any composer had vanished from his head. In that moment, standing under a random street lamp on a random sidewalk somewhere - all he knew was the soft, pillowy feeling of your lips and the cool night breeze against his skin. 

It was perfect. You were perfect. 

You found his intelligence and the enthusiasm with which he spoke to be so utterly irresistible. You had been on so many dates with men before where they had acted like talking about their interests was a chore. Where they had made it seem like the whole thing was simply a routine, waiting for the end of the night so they could get into your pants. And for them, that’s what it probably was. 

But Spencer was nothing like that. 

He spoke about everything with such intense passion - and you couldn’t resist the urge to try and suck that very passion off his lips. 

When you were forced to pull back slightly, your lungs crying out for oxygen, Spencer let out a gentle moan and began puffing out sweet little pants across your chin as he tried to catch his breath. You kept a hold of his tie, wanting to keep him close, and he stayed there, gently pressing his forehead against yours. 

“That was… wow.” He sighed. 

“I didn’t think I would ever find you at a loss for words, Doctor Reid.” You replied with a giggle. 

“Well, I - you - wow.” 

It was all he could muster, causing you both to break down into laughter. 

Back then - everything had been perfect. 

He had no clue where it all went so wrong.

...

A/N: I really hope everyone enjoyed the first part! I would really love to see 10 Comments - in the form of replies, comments on reblogs, or asks (anonymous or not) and 20 Reblogs before I post the next part.

The series is technically finished in my drafts and just needs to be edited, but editing is usually the most difficult and tiring for me, and I would love to see some support and love for the series before I continue working on it, knowing that more people want to see me put effort into it. So please do leave a comment - even in the tags of a reblog - telling me what you enjoyed about it if you have read this far. It is much appreciated <33

[missmyluv]

why? (´；Д；` )

synopsis | miles left you read again for the third time this week with no apology or reason why he did, he makes it up to you.. i guess

cw : i quite literally can’t say anything about future chapters but, cursing, reader overthinking, no miles here (yet)

@bigbawdy-benzz

you roll your eyes at your phone, tapping your nail against the screen annoyingly. this has happened one times too many, with no excuse at that. your patience was running in thin — very thin.

‘he’s playin’ wit my last nerve.’ you massage your forehead to ease the pain from an incoming headache, flipping the water on and splashing the cold water on your face and sighing deeply.

you look up at yourself in the mirror, a mess. you couldn’t take more of this not communicating for any longer — with these thoughts come insecurity, hard thinking and irrational feelings.

you take a deep breath, trying to calm down your eyes from leaking, you place your phone down on your desk and start your skin care routine for bed, it was two am and miles was suppose to come over hours ago — at nine.

you sigh deep in thought, applying your acne cream before spots start poppin’ up because of how much you’re stressin’. you check your phone once again to see if you trippin.. oh your delusions were trying everything to make it seem like he didn’t do it on purpose.

even his mom had checked up on you, three times. she had already left for work, so you decided to leave as well.

does he think that you’re too attached and needs a break ? no, he loves you! has he gotten tired of you ? of course not. maybe he gots his eyes on another girl ???? maybe.. no. you have been clinging onto him lately.. you jus want quality time with him.

you coming?

read 8:57

you lean your head back, staring at the ceiling and reminiscing on the memories you made with him. you’ve always told yourself “don’t let a man be the reason for your acne.” which is basically saying “don’t let him take control of your emotions.” n’ you did, many times.

few minutes later your bonnet sat neatly on your head, jus getting off the phone w/ your gfs trying to reassure you — others saying ‘how much of a bitch he is’. well, those comments didn’t help, but you get where they’re coming from.

you place your phone on your nightstand, turning away from it. your soft cheek pressed against your silk tear-stained pillow. you were going through all of the stages of acceptance at this point.

you silently cried wiping your nose with your bedside tissue, wiping your face with another. ‘i miss him so much.’ god you were pathetic. finally choosing to stop crying you fall asleep soon after, thinking about him.

you left your window slightly open, maybe he’d drop by, just maybe.

[4ngeldusstt]

Halloween night part 1

A/N: this is just some scenario i had in my head, would you guys like a part 2 of this?? let me know what you think of this!! <3

Warning: mentions of drugs

Word count: 558

Part 2

It was halloween there was a party going on as obvious, you and maddy were planning on going you as an angel and her as a devil,

Madds✨: hey bitch we are picking u up in 5 be ready

You read the text as you finished giving your final touches to your look, some dainty jewelry and some glitter perfume, you admired yourself in the mirror before leaving applying some lip gloss.

You got in the car as you heard comments from your friends hyping you up “girl you look hot as fuck” maddy said, “yeah some ethereal shit wow you’re getting dick tonight thats for sureee” you heard Kat say. “You don’t look bad yourselves though, we on some bad bitch shit tonight”

“We gotta stop by fez store first to get some stuff, it’ll be quick i wanna get wasted” maddy looked at you as she talked knowing you had a thing for fez, you said you were best friends but she knew that your feelings were beyond that.

Maddy and i hopped out as the rest waited in the car and headed to the store you had confidence and tonight you were feeling yourself you knew you looked breathtaking in your costume and your makeup and hair was done perfectly.

“Hi fez” you gave him one of your best smiles that he much adored, “hi wheres ashtray i need some molly” fez signed to the freezer and maddy went in leaving you two alone.

“You look amazing ma, that costume goes well with u” you caught him eyeing you up and down “oh really? Why’s that huh?” You played dumb enjoying to see how nervous he was getting “cause u a lil angel ma” he laughed looking down not wanting you to see how blushed he got.

“Aw there is no strawberry lollypops..” you said with a playful smile and faking a pout “ah shit for real? ill make sure to stock up on those i know how much you love em” “cherry is good too” he said giving you options. “Hm ill try them then” you said graving three of them and placed them on the counter leaving a five dollar bill asking for some cherry rolling paper too, taking the paper off of one and popping it in your mouth, sucking lightly on it while your eyes didn’t leave his.

You knew what you were doing and for sure knew what you were doing to him. “Mm these are so good you were right fez” “you are always right” You sucked at the candy again. “Fuck” you head him mumble under his breath, you got him all worked up looking at him with that innocent face, that lil costume of yours and staring up at him all doe eyed, he wanted to fuck you right there in that counter but you two were best friends we wouldn’t risk it like that.

“Okay bitch we can leave i got my shit” maddy said coming out the door “Are you going to Nate’s party tonight?” You asked fez “um yea, gotta make business you know” “see you there?” You asked, giving him a lil wink and a smile as you made your way out, he simply gave you a nod, he was staring you in awe, of course he was gonna be there he wouldn’t miss it for anything.

[shotorozu]

you like their hands

character(s) : todoroki shouto, bakugou katsuki, midoriya izuku (1/?)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk’s not specific

post type : headcanons; accompanied with a small scenario [fluff, the mildest of spice not nsfw]

note(s) : i was thinking about todo’s hands today— also i’ll be adding pictures of what i think their hand looks like so.. 😳

»»————-　♡　————-««

todoroki shouto

i’d like to believe that shouto’s hands would be long and pretty— kinda like how i’d imagine akaashi and kageyama’s hands

but have y’all seen that man’s hands in the anime and manga 😳 they’re not really what i’d call them “long”

so i had to find a mid point, kinda like a fusion of both.

his hands are either really pale, or the knuckles are just really red

moving on..

you have a weird infactuation with his hands, and you were gonna tell him! but you just didn’t know when

he didn’t really get it at first??

yes, he will respect and properly entertain your interests. but.. his hands? he doesn’t get that part yet

shouto can say he takes care of them well. washing his hands at least 3 times a day, and applying lotion on them with the slightest mint scent in it

and he takes care of his hands because he needs to rely on them everytime he uses his quirk.

speaking of quirk— his hands are either scorching to the touch, or cold.

so the first time he reaches out for your hand, you just.. freeze?? you were talking about something random while walking with him

then he just suddenly reached for your hand

seeing your reaction, he’s like.. “oh. my hand must be too cold for them. gotta switch.”

then he switches hands, holding your hand with his left. and you’re still the same, and it appears to be that switching didn’t really help

scenario

“what’s wrong, love?” he pulls you aside, staring at your expression— seeing that you became stiff when he reached for your touch.

you want to downplay the entire situation, really. but shouto doesn’t budge, that’s just who he is, and he’s still left wondering what’s wrong, and if he did something.

that is until you mention his hands, and that you like them

“your hands.. are really nice i guess,” you avert your gaze “i like them.” you say in almost a whisper like tone.

he sighs in relief. and he feels better that it’s not about the fact that you hate the temperature of his hands, since they’re either abnormally sahara desert hot or cold like fresh snow on a december morning.

his cheeks flare pink for a moment, in sudden realization “y-you like my hands?” shouto asks this as a confirmation, hoping that he actually heard it correctly.

but when you nod, he takes full advantage— entertaining your interest in his hands to his best abilities

he smiles when he sees your expression change when he brushes the back of your hand with his own. then, he finally holds your hand— the coolness of his right hand is making you hyper aware

your heart only pounds faster against your chest, when he presses his lips to the back of your hand, maintaining eyecontact as he does soz

after dating you, he paints his nails with clear nail polish. it makes him feel better knowing that they’ll stay clean even with all the hectic training

to calm you down, he likes to rub his thumb against your cheek— his quirk slightly activating while he stares into your eyes

a little spicy; but whenever you eat your desert during a date, he will wipe the excess off the side of your lips, and ask you to lick it off.

is he teasing you? or is he serious? we will never know.

bakugou katsuki

SCREAMs

bakugou’s hands are big, and his veins are prominent— but not too veiny to the point it’s concerning.

he sometimes likes wearing rings but.. that’s just sometimes

his hands are strangely soft, especially the palms— but he could say there’s some rough spots here and there, but he’d guess it’s because of his quirk.

bakugou’s hands are always warm and sweaty, which he never actually cared about— until he started dating you

he’s kinda worried that you wouldn’t wanna hold his hand, but you can say it’s actually the opposite?

you really like his hands.. but you’re just scared of getting judged

so when he reaches for your hand, you try to pretend that he wasn’t? you turn your head away— trying to not look the slightest bit of dazed

scenario

“what’s up with you?” bakugou interrogates you, his ruby irises glaring into your eyes— his voice gruff

“what?” you question, the sudden action was out of the blue— and you hold in your breath when his hands cage you in, large hands pressed on the wall behind you

“HAH?” he yells, not amused by your sudden oblivion, “don’t act dumb,” he grits his teeth “spit it out, and tell me what’s wrong.”

“nothing’s wrong, suki— i don’t really follow?” you try to convince him that no, i’m totally not afixiated with something about you, even though you’re my boyfriend; i don’t wanna admit that. however— you’re not very slick.

“tch, fucking liar.” his eyes narrow, “if you hate my fuckin’ hands, then i prefer it if you were honest about it.”

“sorry, but what?” you blink, suddenly appalled by his words, “hate.. your hands?”

“because that’s what it is, huh?” he moves even closer to you, practically inches away; and you can only pray that he can’t hear the rather loud beating of your heart. “my hands are so sweaty that you don’t wanna touch em, is that it?”

you’re agitated by his misunderstanding, and you sigh; finally deciding to come clean. “fine! fine. i like your hands.”

you didn’t mean to make it sound that upfront.

bakugou blinks, the sudden tension releasing into thin air, his expression left almost as equally surprised as you.

“tch. so that’s how it is,” he smirks, and by the way it looks— you suddenly regret telling him that.

well.. not really?

he actually takes advantage of that, making sure you remember his hands nicely.

when he sits next to you on the couch, he’ll throw his beefy ass arm around your shoulders like usual. then, he’ll run his hand up and down, making sure you’re aware of his touch.

bakugou will be THAT BITCH that’ll gesture you to come over so he could kiss you,

and when you’re leaning in— he’ll pinch your cheek, a sly grin on his face.

a little spicy; but he’s the type to rest his hand on your neck when you guys kiss <3 ugh

but overall— he’s really glad you actually like his hands, and it wasn’t like you hated them at all

but GOSH he just wished you told him from the start >:T

midoriya izuku

less veins, but.. DAMN THEY’RE KINDA THICK?? not too thick but.. have you seen his hands in the manga??

of course— his hands are rough, with a bunch of scars from his quirk. which he was kinda conscious about

but he tries hard to take care of them outside of combat things in fights; if they’re damaged then.. oh well

he definitely fiddles with pencils, and when he’s studying— the chance of him having a silver’s hand is likely (the thing where the graphite smeers on the back of your hand) he hates that shit

he definitely has a writer’s callus. PROVE ME WRONG!! that man writes a lot, and so do i so 😌 twinsies

but he tries to keep them clean, and he wants to make them feel less rough— so he will invest in some hand cream

compared to the other two, midoriya’s hands are normal in temperature.

but his grip is firm but he doesn’t really realize it sometimes.

you like his hands because.. the detail on his hands leave you mesmerized

but you don’t really wanna weird him out or make him uncomfortable. since he gets really flustered quick.

and you don’t want him to just stare at his hands and think about your fascination about them. no distractions

but he gets real pouty when you pull away

scenario

“hey Y/N, do you.. hate holding hands with me?” izuku asks one day, when you guys are studying in your room

“what?” you tilt your head, really surprised by his question— since you guys sat in silence for the last few minutes. you can feel the edge in your stomach grow when he mentions his hands.

“you always pull away when i try to hold your hand.” you gesture him to continue what he’s saying, and he continues “ but i get it though! my hands are.. scarred, rough. they’re kinda ugly compared to the rest of the guys.” he’s rambling, and you can’t help but feel really saddened.

“izuku, no.” you shake your head, “your hands aren’t ugly. yeah, they may be scarred and all— but they saved a lot of people, it saved eri, and it helped you get to where you are today.”

izuku’s cheeks flush with red, and he can’t say that you’re wrong. but; though he’s provided with reassurance, that’s not the answer he wanted

“but why won’t you hold my hand?”

“because i..” averting your eyes to the wall behind him, you’re looking for the right words. “i like your hands. i didn’t want to make you feel weird because of me.”

you look at his face after the confession, and it’s just ingulfed in a red shade.

on the contrary, this makes him like his hands more. everytime he looks at his hands, he’ll be motivated by your words.

but he’ll be a little shy with acting on it at first; especially in public

but fear not! izuku may seem innocent, but he also knows what he’s doing so.. don’t be decieved

when he’s studying, he’ll write with his right hand, and feed you little snacks with his left hand— urging you to open your mouth and take the snack

after sparring with you he’ll comment on how you did so good, also while placing his hands on your shoulder— massaging any sore parts

a little spicy, but when you guys are kissing, HIS HANDS WILL ROAM TO PLACES. pulling you closer as he attacks your lips

overall— he might be a little shy at first, but he can say he’s pretty accepting of your interest in his hands. it makes him feel better about the appearance of his hands.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei. i only own the writing, and i don’t profit off of my hobby.

do not reupload, translate, and use my work for any reading videos without my consent. do not plagiarize my work :))

[capturethechaos]

Take Care of You

In collaboration with @obetrolncocktails

Masterlist

Last chapter

Words - 4571

Warnings - Swearing, A smidgen of angst, NSFW 18+ Content, Oral (f.recieving), Teasing, Fingering, Unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it folks)

—Fort Wayne, IN 🔆 September 19th —

Soundcheck, a chaotic affair as always, was pushed to the back of your busy mind. At the forefront was a single picture, one you were sure would be added to picture books, framed and hung on the wall to remember years from now. The picture, a proud looking new father, his hand delicately placed on the peach fuzz of his newborn daughter's head as he stares lovingly at her and her mother. 

A picture like that would be one you would usually be glad to see coming up on your timeline, a comment of  ‘congratulations’ being added to the hundreds of others… but this picture, this one held the loving face of Derek, staring down at a child fresh faced and naïve to the world around it, and all you could think about, was how there was no way it could have been conceived any time after the two of you had broken up. 

You spent several moments counting on your fingers, opening up google calendar and starting over every time to do the math once again. Every time you landed on the same time table, it filled the pit of your stomach with embarrassment, betrayal and dread. “That fucking peace of Shit!” You screamed, reflexively striking at anything and everything on the table in front of you. The boys watched as pizza boxes went flying, the food tumbling to the ground in an anticlimactic splat, along with an array of sauces, soda bottles, napkins and silverware. 

“Not the pizza! That shit looked so good, what the fuck?” Sam said with his bass still strapped around his shoulder. His posture automatically slumped when he realized that the five-second rule no longer applied. 

Josh was fiddling with his ear piece, speaking with a techie about relay difficulties between both monitors on stage when he heard the commotion. He spun around to face you, his eyebrows furrowing from the explosion. Patting the worker politely on the shoulder, Josh excused himself to walk off of the stage, down to the pit where you were sitting. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He whispered softly as he knelt beside you, genuinely concerned. 

You couldn't find the words to speak; when you tried, nothing came out. You sat there, staring at Josh, feeling your eyes welling up painfully with a deluge of tears. “Josh-I–” You gave up when you felt your throat closing, daring you to speak further. You threw your phone on the table with the image still showing. You wiped at your eyes as Josh looked at the photo. For a second, you couldn’t read his expression until you saw his eyes soften in realization. 

“Oh, baby.” He said before throwing his arms around you and pulling you to his chest. He said nothing else, and you were grateful. Nothing anyone could say could make you feel less small, less measly and less disgusting. What the fuck have I ever done to deserve this type of betrayal. How fucking dare he preach to me his holier than thou bullshit while sticking his cock in some other bitch? You sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, soaking his pullover in tears. He didn’t leave you; wouldn’t. The boys continued to work on stage and let Josh be with you. 

Jake took a break, nodding to Sam and Danny to continue before grabbing a water bottle and hopping off the stage to make his way over to you and Josh. His eyes locked with Josh’s as he reached you, handing him the water bottle with a weak smile. 

“Why don’t you two head back to the hotel, I’m sure one soundcheck won’t change the fact that you can’t remember some of your own lyrics.” Jake jested, earning a pointed glare from Josh, which quickly softened when he heard a quiet chuckle come from you, muffled by the fabric of his shirt. 

The twins both looked at you as you pulled away from Josh slightly, wiping the tears from your face with your sleeve.

“You wanna go back to the hotel babe?” Josh asked. You nodded, giving him a small smile.

—

You watched as Josh stumbled around your shared hotel room, trying to find the sweatpants he slept in the night before. When he finally found them tucked beneath the chair in the corner of the room, he spun around, a side smile on his face as he held them up for you to see before trying, and failing, to put them on as he made his way toward the bed. He got one leg through before tripping and rolling on the hardwood of the hotel floor. You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you, earning a pout from Josh as he lifted himself off of the floor.

“I’m sorry babe, it was funny. At least you looked cute.” You said, moving the blanket beside you and patting the empty space, “Come here, let me check to make sure you haven’t caused any life threatening injuries.”

He crawled into the spot, and before he could pull the blankets over himself, you swung yourself over him to straddle his hips, taking his face in your hands and turning it back and forth, dramatically scanning his face for injuries. He watched you intently for a few seconds while you did it, and once you were done you leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss on his lips before settling into his lap. “All clear, no permanent or life threatening injuries.”

Grasping you just behind the knees, Josh pulled you closer to him, letting his hands wander about your thighs. “You sure you don’t want to look a little closer?” 

You played along, leaning in to inspect him closer, when he tilted his head upward and skimmed your lips with his. “All better.” You watched as he licked his lips, his eyes floating about your features, lasting too long on your mouth. You were mere inches from his face, and though no words were being spoken, you were both in agreement about one thing. You felt his arms snake around your back as he sank into another kiss, pulling you backward to lay on the bed. He hovered above you for a moment, as if asking for permission. 

“Come here, Josh. Please.” And he did. He touched you like it was the first and last time, exploring every expanse of your body, discovering it in a new way. His hands found their way to your face, tucking the loose tendrils of hair behind your ear before he descended upon the curve of your neck, licking and sucking painful splotches along your skin. You would never complain; the sensation only added to the arousal. He could do anything to you and you would welcome it. “Josh, oh my god,” you whispered just loudly enough for him to hear. The only response you received was a distracted hmm as his kisses trailed from your neck, lower to your collarbone and chest. You felt his fingertips at the hem of your t-shirt, dragging it upwards. You raised your arms above your head and let him remove it completely, leaving it tossed somewhere within the room. 

His hands cupped your breasts with a firm squeeze. “Fuck,” He whispered before biting at his bottom lip. “Never gets old.” You chuckled softly as he pulled himself forward, running the flat of his tongue over the fullness of one of your breasts. 

“Just for you, and only for you,” You said softly, moving your hands to your sides to get them out of the way. 

“Damn right,” He agreed as he pulled one of your hands to the nape of his neck, where his curls began. He knew that you enjoyed  busying yourself with his curls. “But tonight is about you. I worship no one else–no one. But you.” 

The air was ripped out of your lungs in a way that left you speechless and dizzy. “Fuck me. Take me,” You murmured, tilting your head back as Josh tongued your nipples. 

You closed your eyes and found yourself able to track the movement of his tongue as it rolled in circles upon your skin. When he finally felt satisfied, you felt his weight shift as he pulled himself lower. You weren’t expecting this to go down tonight, so the underwear you were wearing were–let’s just say, casual. 

You felt his fingers teasing at the waistband. “Hmm, I think these are my new favorites.” He glanced down at the pizza-patterned fabric before turning his glance upward to meet your eyes. His grin took up so much of his face, that he looked ridiculous; you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Making up for the loss of a good meal earlier.”

“No worries, these are about to hit the floor too. I’ll be having you for dinner instead.” 

“Then by all means,” you said, picking up your hips so that he could slide the underwear off of you. He pulled them down your legs with ease, planting kisses upon your legs as he took his time removing them, eventually tossing them to the floor. 

“So gorgeous, soft…You’re beautiful, Y/n. And you’re mine.” He had barely touched you, but set you aflame from the inside out. It was rare that any man took the time to truly appreciate you. Josh was different; from the beginning, he was an altruist. Love seeped through his demeanor, his speech, his humor…He was one of the most selfless people that you knew, and having him here with you tonight, proving to you of your worth and his affection, it meant more than anything. His hands skimmed up your body, enjoying the smoothness of your skin under his touch. 

“Come here, Mama.” his voice was silk he adjusted himself between your legs, pulling them further apart and dragging your body down slightly to meet with his. His arms looped under your thighs, folding around and anchoring your core against his face. He showed no restraint and no hesitation. Something about Josh was magnetic; he exuded an impossible amount of confidence that rarely came off cocky, but at the same time, there lurked something devious underneath his easy-going demeanor. 

You felt the tension release from your muscles as you felt his tongue for the first time. You hadn’t realized that you had been wound so tightly until there was nowhere to go except for this moment. You willed yourself to let go of the stress and upset and give in completely to your partner.  You’d think he’d get impatient, or bored, you consider as you laid back against the mattress. But no. Not ever. Josh was a giver and it still shocked you that he would receive almost the same amount of satisfaction from eating you out than to be touched himself. 

“Oh fuck, right there–Josh, don’t stop, Keep g-” his hand unlatched from your thigh to press down on your belly, just above the pubic bone as he teased your entrance with his tongue. His fingertips sank hungrily into your skin, reveling in the encouragement you gave him. 

You heard a gasp of breathlessness as he detached himself from you. “I want to be messy from you. Covered all over in you. Can you do that? Let go and let me take you there.” His voice was slack with lust, the tone stripped from his voice. What replaced it was a gravely and needy mewl. 

“Please Josh-“ Your voice was laced with need, coming out as more of a whimper, and you were quickly interrupted when one of his hands slid from your thigh, one of his fingers circling your entrance as he locked his gaze with yours. 

“You don’t have to beg baby, is this what you want?” He asked, slowly pushing his finger into you, earning an eager nod from you. “Then that's what I’ll give you baby,” he kissed your thigh, slowly drawing his finger out of you before adding a second, “anything you want is yours.”

Your head fell back into the pillows below you, your eyes fluttering closed as his tongue found your clit once again, giving one long languid stroke of his tongue before enclosing his velvet lips around it and gently sucking on it, his eyes flicking up to watch as your back arched off of the bed. 

His pace was excruciatingly euphoric, the slow plunge of his fingers beginning to build that familiar knot deep within your core. Josh was taking his sweet time with you, taking you all in, how you taste, the way you squeeze around his fingers when he curls them just right, he was making an effort to commit it to memory. He never wanted to forget exactly what he could do to you, do for you. 

Your fingers remained wrapped in his curls, giving small tugs whenever he hit just the right spot, leaving you whimpering beneath him, trying desperately to move against him, anything to get him to move faster, but his hand remained on your navel, holding you against the mattress. One particularly exquisite flick of his tongue against your clit had you pulling at the curls between your fingers, drawing out a low groan from Josh.  

“Fuck, Josh–” fell from your lips in a choked groan as your hips struggled to find a middle ground between bucking up against his face or digging deeply within the pillowtop. He was a painter; every movement was calculated with loving intent, each new touch revealing another layer of vulnerability. You writhed against him in sensual agony, begging for release. His grip was iron-wrought, dragging you back against him every time your body desperately pulled away. You couldn’t help it; he was masterful in a way that always left you breathless like no other person has. 

You wouldn’t admit it to him, but you were no stranger to faking orgasms. You fought your brain from thinking of the embarrassing fact. During the tenure of your relationship with Derek, he never made you cum once without having to finish you off. Eventually it got to the point where you told him that you came and that was that. You’d crawl off of him every time and wrap yourself up in a pool of sheets, turned away from him. You’d spend countless hours debating your worth, your place as a woman. Am I just wasted? Unable to please him?

“Come back to me,” You hear Josh say in a low, sultry tone. “Don’t think about anything else except me.” 

You hadn’t realized he had moved until you could feel his breath against your throat as he whispered into your ear. He moved to lock his eyes with your own, curling his fingers just enough to brush deliciously against the spot that had you curling your back off of the bed to meet his bare chest. He caught your lips in a slow kiss, his tongue gliding against your own. You could taste yourself on his tongue, pulling a moan from deep in your chest as he continued to drive his fingers into you. 

“Do you taste yourself darling?” He asked with a smirk as he pulled away, his lips brushing against your as he spoke. “See how good you taste, I could spend the rest of my life between your thighs.” 

Your own scent made you delirious, grabbing feverishly for his face, his body, arms…anything to bring him closer to you. “Josh, I need you. Make me forget he ever existed.” You found his eyes, searching for his answer. 

“That won’t be hard. I bet that piece of shit never worshipped you like I will.”  His voice was ragged, his tone falling breathily down the curve of your neck as he continued to kiss you. “Never memorized your body, knew exactly how to set you on fire. Drag me to Hell, Y/n, and I’ll still come crawling on my knees.”

You couldn’t make any words come out, but he watched as your jaw went slack and you gave him a shocked nod. 

“I can feel you clenching around my fingers mama, are you close?” He asked, his voice low, raspy, and broken up as he sucked spots along your collarbone. You nodded your head, keeping it pressed against the pillows, but he wasn’t satisfied, disconnecting from the skin of your chest to look at you properly. “Use your words love, I wanna hear you tell me how good I make you feel.”

A whimper fell from your lips as he moved his thumb to rub slow circles over your clit, continuing to pump his finger in and out of you. “Fuck Josh, I’m so close baby, please don’t stop.” 

The smirk on his face was devious as he leaned in to you, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear before whispering, “Don't worry baby, this is only the first. Let go for me baby, make a mess.”

The knot snapped, unraveling around him, his name tumbling from your lips like a mantra. No one else existed at that moment, it was just you and Josh, alone in the universe, everyone else was simply a blur, a fleeting memory. 

His fingers continued to move, slowing down to work you through your high until you caught your breath. Opening your eyes, you found Josh staring down at you with a warm, and mildly devious smile. You furrowed your brows at him, and he slowly pulled his fingers out of you, causing you to let out a small whine at the loss of contact. The smile on his face turned to a smirk as he raised his hand between the two of you, separating his fingers to showcase just how much you soaked his hand. 

“Don’t beg for me, Mama. No need. I won’t be done until we’re both gasping and sticking to each other.” You watched as he inserted his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. The sight was incredible, vulgar, and you wanted it burned on the back of your eyelids, tattooed on your brain for the rest of time, and despite the overtly sexual nature of what had just happened, Josh was soft as ever, his eyes scanning your face to make sure you were doing alright. He leaned over to the bedside table, grabbing the water bottle from earlier and holding it out for you. “Need a second, babe? We can take a quick break before I ruin you for anyone else.” 

You took the water bottle and tilted it back as he continued to speak, his fingertips stroking at the softness of your skin. “You see, what you don’t realize is when it comes to sex, I am extremely selfish; you’re mine. You don’t think of anyone else, don’t think of their name, not what they did to you…you think of being with me and only me. You are safe with me–I can take you everywhere and nowhere at the same time, baby…you’ll always end up with me wrapped around you completely.”

He moved to stand from the bed, keeping his eyes on you as he slid out of sweatpants and boxers. He watched the way your eyes traveled along his body as you sipped from the water, taking in every freckle, scar, and divot from the top of his head all the way down to his toes, he was perfect, in every sense of the word. Your own personal work of art, and only you got to see him like this. 

“Besides,” he crawled back onto the bed, gently taking the bottle from you and placing it back on the bedside table before pulling you to lay on your back once again. He leaned down, brushing his lips against your own as he wrapped a hand around your calf, pulling it to wrap around his hip, “you and I could make better looking babies than he could ever give you.”

You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what drew the moan from you, whether it was the words falling between his perfect lips, or the feeling of his cock rutting against your core, but whatever it was, it brought the cockiest smirk to his face. 

“You like that mama? You like the idea of bearing my children? The very picture of us, right?”

“Josh–”

“Don’t be embarrassed. I’m not. I’m imagining you glowing and smiling like a fucking goddess. Magical. Wherever you go, I will worship at your altar. I devote myself solely…”  He paused to swallow, as if suddenly overwrought with emotion. “to you.”

You took his face in your hands, holding him in place as his eyes locked with yours, “Where did you come from?”

Josh broke into a wide grin, “My mother’s womb.” His statement made you giggle, leaning up to press a chaste kiss on his lips. 

“Alright there smart ass, I think I’ve caught my breath.” You said, looking down to where his body was so close to being connected with your own, before looking back up at him with a raised eyebrow. The smug grin on his face returned, the sudden feeling of him sliding his cock between your folds pulling a drawn out moan from deep within you. He continued that movement for a while, catching the tip of his cock on your clit a few times just to watch the way your face twisted in pure bliss, until he figured he had teased you enough. 

Wordlessly, he slowed his movement long enough to line himself up with your entrance, finally pushing himself into you. You heard his breath release as you took his cock, moaning as he swelled deep inside of you. You couldn’t help the way your face contorted as he fucked you. He watched you intently, a crooked smirk growing on his face. 

“What?” You asked breathlessly, raising an eyebrow at him.

He pulled his hips back, sitting back on his heels, stopping just before the tip slipped out, and locked eyes with you, “Oh nothing.” The cheesy smile remained until he rolled his hips into yours again, watching the way he disappeared inside you, his gaze flickering to watch as your eyes rolled back at the feeling. “I just love the way you look when I’m inside of you.”

He caught you by surprise and the only thing you could do was stare at him. “I’m good at rendering you speechless aren’t I Mama?” He continued to thrust in slow rhythm, bending to trail his tongue around your nipples, stopping intermittently to suck harsh red circles onto the curve of your breasts. “How–” You started, deciding to think before speaking. “Where did this Josh come from?”

“You tell me,” He said with a simple shrug. “Is it working?” He watched you as your face contorted, your chest heaving as hilarity took over. 

“What?” He said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes! Yes, Josh, it’s fucking working–you’re so stupid,” you responded with a snicker, before adjusting and reaching out for him. “Come here.”

 As he leaned into you with a soft grin, you pulled him the rest of the way down by the length of his curls, stopping just shy of kissing him to observe his features. His personality seeped straight through the deep amber of his eyes. Something about his attentive gaze comforted you, even from the first moment you met. He had eyelashes to die for, melting you every time you looked at him, though you wouldn’t dare flatter him too much with that information. You brought a hand up to his cheek, using your thumb to caress the side of his face. His skin was softly tanned from the glow of the sun, the apples of his cheeks brushed a soft shade of pink. He was yours and for the first time in maybe ever, you felt truly cared for; important. He took the cue to bend down further to kiss you softly, before letting the kiss fall into something more exploratory. His body pressed against yours as the kiss deepened, the heaviness of your shared breathing sending signals throughout your body to react, stiffening your nipples and activating your core. He parted from you, biting down slightly upon your bottom lip, letting gravity release you from him as he rose above you. 

“I could do this for hours,” He spoke, the words coming out more as an admittal than as an attempt to seduce. Your hands wandered to your breasts as you pinched at your own nipples, watching as his eyes drafted about your body sucking in his bottom lip between his teeth as he focused. You felt him deep inside of you, as he deepened every stroke, taking his time to fill you up completely. Sweat was beginning to bead upon his forehead and the tip of his nose, causing his hair to stick to his face in an erotic display. With his thumb, he rubbed at your clit as he plummeted inside of you, pulling himself almost all the way out, before setting off the rhythm once more in a slow, concentrated manner. “Fuck, Josh. Harder. I feel it–I–” You didn’t need to say anything else. He knew what to do, changing the position immediately. 

Reaching down, he grasped your sides, pulling you upward before moving to your knees, pulling you on to his lap in a seated position. “Cum for me, baby. Show me how good you feel.” His words alone would have been enough to finish you off, but it was the combination of his hands guiding your hips against him, and the feeling of his lips against your skin that had the coil snapping within you. His head fell to the crook of your neck, a deep groan ripping from his throat as he felt you clenched around his cock, and your fingernails clawing at his back and the nape of his neck. 

“Fuck Josh-” Your body ached for him in every way possible, your hands pulling to get him closer, to feel every inch of him against you as you rode out your orgasm. It must have been too much to handle, as you felt Josh’s hips stutter, and the feeling of his cum filling you, causing you both to moan. Once you both had come down from your highs, he lifted his head from your shoulder, and quickly realized what he had done. 

“Shit. Y/n, I- I am so sorry. I didn’t even think about the fact that we forgot a condom. Fuck-” You interrupted his babbling by taking his face in his hands and holding him steady, a small giggle coming from between your lips. He furrowed his brows at you, confused by your reaction.

“It’s fine baby, really. There’s a reason I got this.” You explained, holding out your arm and pressing into the small implant in your arm. His gaze followed the movement, watching as you pressed against the skin of your arm.

“Can I- can I feel it?” He asked, looking back at you.

“Of course.” You replied, taking his hand and placing his fingers against the place where the implant sat below your skin. He was weirded out by it, his face softening as he ran his fingers over it a few times.

“That's weird.” He pressed against it lightly, feeling the length of the implant before letting his hand fall back to your hip.

“It is, but it means we can do… that, without worry.”

“Then in that case,” He said, rolling you over and kissing you again. “Round two?”

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[hellfirehaley]

Strange Love Chapter 12

Songs referenced: Bark at the Moon by Ozzy Osbourne and Time Warp from Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Shoutout to @realeddiemunsonstandup for helping me come up with this chapter MONTHS AGO. Like I'm talking back before I even had chapter one written. This chapter is my favorite so far to have written and I hope that you all enjoy it. As always, if you like the series and wanna be added to the taglist, please let me know in the comments. Shoutout to my bb @mvnsoneddie86 for reading over every chapter and making sure I don't sound like an illiterate mess

Masterlist:

You woke up and were already in a terrible mood thanks to the fight you had with your mother last night. She was going on about applying yourself in class more, being more accountable at home and needing to take on more hours at work: The Good Ol’ Mom Guilt Triple Threat. On top of it all, today was the anniversary of when Rob cheated on you with that bitch Misty. You just had a sinking feeling you would see them today so you debated playing sick and decided to get out of bed. You got dressed in a pair of black jeans, an oversized sweater and your lace up boots. You went downstairs expecting to see your mom but instead found a note on the counter in her place.

Went in to pick up an extra shift. Try to have a good day sweetheart. I love you

Happy Halloween

Love, Mom

Of course she was hiding after the shit she said last night, you thought. You decided to say fuck it and not go to school. You laid back down on the couch and tried to fall back asleep but after a few hours, you groaned checking the time. 10:47AM. You got up and grabbed your keys and headed out the door, your day completely changed by your shitty mood and spontaneous decision making skills. You got in the car and almost laughed at the song choice. Somebody’s Watching Me blasted through the speakers. You backed out of the driveway and took off towards Family Video. The drive was quick thanks to the lack of traffic. You arrived right at 11 as Steve was unlocking the door. He looked up at the sound of your car and looked at you with a confused smile.

“Hey Y/N aren’t you supposed to be in school?” Steve asked as he looked at you.

“Yeah but I wasn’t feeling it today. Can I rent some movies before everyone comes in and takes everything for granted?” you ask as Steve opens the door for you.

“Yeah of course. Is everything okay?” Steve asked as he took a look at you. You seemed sadder than normal and Steve hated seeing you like this.

“It’s a rough day Steeb. I just need Rocky Horror, candy and sleep,” you say plainly as you head to the shelf where your favorite movie waited. You grabbed Carrie, Alien, Friday the 13th, Day of the Dead and Evil Dead as well as a bag of popcorn and some assorted candies.

“Do you want any company? I can come round when I’m off at 4 if you want to hang out,” Steve offers, knowing exactly why you feel the way you do.

“No it’s okay I’m not gonna be very much fun to be around today and plus it's Halloween. I know you’ve got plans with Ali so don’t worry about me,” you say.

“Y/N you’re one of my best friends so I’m gonna worry about you. I just wish I could do more,” Steve said.

“Thanks Steve. I think I just need a day to myself. We can hang out tomorrow though?” you offer him.

“Sure Y/N” Steve says as he hands you back the tapes.

“I’ll catch you tomorrow okay?” you say, sliding him a 5 dollar bill for the snacks.

“Okay Y/N; I’m holding you to that.” Steve says as he waves you goodbye. You wave back as you leave. You got back in your car and started to drive towards home, mind racing over what had happened last year. You had never been hurt like you had when Rob made you feel like a fool who was at fault. The betrayal you felt when you walked back to that old wooden garage. You wished you hadn’t investigated those noises that night. The hurt you felt from Rob’s harsh words calling you a prude, a bitch, ugly and many, many other untrue things but at that time you believed it. You thought about the rage when you punched him the way your brother told you to: thumbs in, follow through, push up if you’re aiming for the nose in order to sever the nerve. You thought about how you ran to the fire in tears that night and how the one person who made you feel okay that night was Eddie Munson. What would’ve happened if you had stayed with Eddie instead of going with Steve? Would you and Eddie have become friends sooner? Would you be friends now? Either way, you got a better group of friends and your sense of self back. You changed trains of thought thinking how blessed you were with Ali, Robin, Steve and Eddie. Whenever you were with them, you were so much happier and able to be yourself. You didn’t have to hide parts or aspects of yourself

When you arrived at home, you were in a better mood. You grabbed your movies and snacks and headed inside, putting everything on the coffee table. You choose to start off with Evil Dead and got yourself set up with the candy in bowls and your drink on the coffee table while the popcorn popped in the microwave. Norm hopped up on the couch and took his spot at where your feet would be. You grabbed the popcorn and put it in its own bowl before returning to the couch right as the movie started. You got comfortable and watched the film to completion, enjoying the peace and quiet of the house to yourself. You were about to put in Day of the Dead when the phone rang. You were confused as to who would be calling and even debated sending it to your answering machine since you weren’t feeling like dealing with people. The answer machine beeped.

“Hey you’ve reached the L/N’s. Sorry we missed your call. Please leave your name, number and a detailed message and we will get back to you. Have a great day!” the machine said in the recorded message your mother recorded when you first got the device. When the machine beeped again, you heard a very familiar voice belonging to your best friend.

“Y/N? Are you there? Come on, pick up the phone. You didn’t come to school so I got worried Ali and Robin hadn’t seen you since yesterday. Are you alive?!?” you laugh at his over dramatics as you got off the couch and go to the phone, picking it up and ending the voice message.

“I’m fine Eddie. I just don’t wanna deal with people today,” you say into the phone.

“Oh thank God! I thought you were hurt or dying,” Eddie breathes. You laugh at his reaction.

“I’m fine, Eds. I just don’t wanna be at school today because it’s a hard day,” you admit.

“Want me to come over and cheer you up?” Eddie asks.

“Sure Eddie you can come over after school,” you say, “Also how’d you get my number?”

“I pestered Ali into giving it to me with the promise of checking in on you,” Eddie admitted.

“I’m not at all surprised,” you say.

“So what are you doing for the day if you’re not here?” Eddie asked.

“Movie day. I rented a bunch of horror movies and I’ve got snacks,” you say.

“Sounds like a good day to me Y/N. What? Okay fine. Hey Y/N I gotta get to class but I’ll be over as soon as class gets out okay?” Eddie says as you hear a bell ring.

“Okay Eddie sounds like a plan. I’ll see you later,” you say as you hang up the phone. You went to your living room again, switching the tape to Day of the Dead and you go to lay down on the couch, Norm warming your feet as you lay down, covering yourself with a blanket. It didn’t take long for you to get relaxed and fall asleep to the sounds of the horror.

Eddie’s pov

12:45pm

School couldn’t be any more fucking boring without Y/N. I hadn’t realized how much she makes the day go by easier. I’m really worried about her. She never not comes to school. I always see her before lunch at least once but she was nowhere to be found. So here I am at lunch, marching up to the smart kids table to ask her best friends about her. This ought to be a fucking sight considering some of them are already staring at me.

“Hey Ali?” I ask as she turned to look at me with a smile.

“Hey Eddie. What’s going on?” she asked.

‘I haven’t seen Y/N today and I was just wondering if you had seen her in class,” I said with concern. Fuck don’t give away too much.

“No, she wasn’t in class either. Maybe she took a sick day,” Ali says.

“Do you happen to know her number so I can at least call and check on her?” I ask. I knew the second I did ask that, it changed everything and I didn’t care. Y/N was one of the most important people in my life and in high school’s eyes, she’s my girl.

“Yeah. Hang on a sec and I’ll write it down,” Ali said as she fished out her notebook and a pen from her backpack.

“So what’s the plan for Halloween?” Robin asked.

“I was gonna hit a party for work then go see what Y/N was doing. What about you guys?” I ask.

“We’re going to some party over off Cherry Street that we promised we’d show up at but we might stop by if you guys are gonna be there late,” Robin says, “And send her our best obviously.”

“I’ll let her know Robin. What are you going to be this year?” I ask curiously. Robin was nice and fun to be around and I didn’t have anything against her personally. 

“I’m gonna be Stef from the Goonies and they’re gonna be Andy and Brand,” Robin said, gesturing to Ali implying Steve would be Brand. “What are you gonna be?”

“Let’s just say it’s gonna be a surprise,” I say, flashing a wicked smile. Ali handed me the note with her number on it.

“Give her my best and I’ll call if we’re about to come over,” Ali says with a smile.

“Thank you ladies. Have a spooky Halloween,” I say as I walked back to my table.

“What was that about?” Gareth asked as I took my seat at the table.

“Nothing, just needed to ask Ali a question,” I say, hoping they wouldn’t push it.

“So what are we doing for D&D tomorrow Eddie?” Mike asked as everyone’s eyes turned to me.

“You’ll have to wait and see Wheeler,” I say with a smirk.

1:15pm

As soon as I got off the phone with Y/N, I knew something was wrong.  She doesn’t just not show up for school, that’s not her. I’m going over there and I’m gonna make that girl smile. I headed to the parking lot and got to my van, thinking about how I was gonna make her day one way or another. Wait, I’ve got it! She literally said she was gonna be watching her favorite movie and dressing up as a character from said movie. I started the van and the sounds of Ozzy started playing as I got the hell outta there and headed towards home to go change. She better smile after this shit…

1:45pm

How the hell do girls do this shit? I’ve literally almost ate shit like four times getting from my bedroom to my van. Don’t even get me started on how long it took me to get down the three stairs I do have. I’ve gotta give women more credit when I see them in this stuff. I’m finally on my way to her house and I couldn’t be more anxious to see her. I try to zone out to the music that’s playing but my nerves are running rampant because I’m so excited and nervous to see her. How will she react when she sees my costume? Will she laugh? Will she smile? Will she be freaked out? Well there’s no going back now. I zone out and start singing along to the song playing.

“Those that the beast is looking for Listen in awe and you'll hear him bark at the moon. Years in torment buried in a nameless grave. Now he has risen miracles would have to save. Those that the beast is looking for Listen in awe and you’ll hear him bark at the moon . Hey yeah, bark at the moon.” I sang as I finally turned down her street and slowed down, checking to see which of her neighbors were home. Luckily, none were since it’s only 2 o’clock. 

I parked in her driveway behind her and got out, grabbing my backpack. I walked up to the door, humming to myself and tried to open the door but it was locked. I knocked a few times, hearing Norm bark but no one came to the door. Anxiety settled in from being out in public dressed like this, I walked back to the van and took off the heels, storing them in the backpack. I was not about to break my neck doing this. I took a deep breath and looked at the garden ladder and tested its sturdiness. It didn’t seem to have any problems supporting me as I started to climb up the ladder to the roof. God I hope no one is outside or driving by right now. I made quick work getting up but when I swung my leg over, the sliding snagged my fishnets and ripped a hole in them. I huffed in frustration before moving on, moving quickly to what I thought was her window, the second from the left. I looked in and saw her Steve Nicks poster, confirming it was her room. I jimmied open the window with ease and slid in. She wasn’t in her bed so she had to be here somewhere. Norm came bounding up the stairs in alarm but deflated his aggression when he saw me.

“Hey buddy. Sorry to scare you. We cool?” I ask as I extend my hand. Norm immediately comes in for pets of affection and I close the window with my free hand. I stop after a minute or two due to the sounds of screaming. I book it down the stairs to the source of the screaming only to find Y/N asleep on the couch with her hand still in a bowl of candy and Day of the Dead playing in the background as someone is being torn apart by zombies. Y/N had at least bothered to get dressed today in a pair of black jeans and a big sweater. I laughed a little at the sight before me. I almost felt bad for trying to wake her up but here we go.

“Hey Y/N” I tried. She grumbles and turns to face me, eyes closed as I crouch down to meet her eyes.

“Hey Y/N. Wake up sweetheart,” I say, slightly shaking her. She moans slightly.

“Mmmm Eddie is that you baby?”

Holy fuck. She just mumbled my name in her sleep with the pet name baby. Holy shit. God I wanna kiss her so bad right now and just say fuck his friends thing. Fuck I wanna take her right here, right now but I can’t. I can’t cross that line yet. Soon but not now. Fuck but she’s so pretty and so innocent looking. Fuck.

“Hey Y/N. Wake up,” I say, shaking her one more time, harder than this time. Her eyes open this time, meeting mine in surprise then contentment as she relaxed.

“Hi Eddie.” she says in a small voice.

“Hi Princess. I told you I was gonna check on you,” I say with a smile as I brush hair out of her face.

“Thanks Eddie, you really didn’t have to,” she says.

“Nonsense, I absolutely did have to. You’re my best friend plus I don’t dress up like THIS for just anyone,” I say, standing up in my fullest glory. She starts to look at me from head to toe. God now I’m shivering with anticipation.

YOUR POV

I literally couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Eddie “The Freak” Munson showed up at my house dressed up as Dr. Frank-N-Furter from my favorite movie. IN FULL DRAG REGALIA. PEARLS, GAUNTLETS, FISHNETS, CORSET. He really went all out with it and I’m actually losing my shit right now. Okay I admit it: I have a crush on Eddie Munson.

“You look absolutely amazing Eddie! Oh my god! Is this what you were planning and you kept it a total secret from me!” you say totally shocked.

“Yep! Took me weeks to get the details right but I wanted to make you smile because I know today is a hard day for you,” Eddie says. You feel touched he went through all of this for you.

“Thanks Eddie,” you say.

“Do you wanna talk about it at all? It might help you feel better,” Eddie offered. Part of you wanted to just swallow in on yourself rather than talk about your feelings but it was Eddie asking and he wasn’t one to judge someone.

“I couldn’t deal with seeing Rob and Misty today. I’ve been fighting with my mom over college for like a week and I feel like I’m under so much stress I could just break at a moment’s notice,” you ramble.

“I get it. Is there anything I can do to help you?” Eddie asks as he sits down on the chair closest to me.

“Just stay. I can’t deal with people today but I wanna hang out with you because you make me feel better. I guess in a way you always have,” you realize.

“What do you mean Princess?” Eddie asks, eyebrows quirking up.

“Do you remember last Halloween? How we met?” you ask.

Eddie’s POV

Did I remember it? Fuck it was the night that changed my life. She came up to the bonfire, similar to how she had a few weeks ago, but the first time she was in tears, holding her hand in pain as she kept repeating the word “Bastards” over and over again.

“I remember a little witch emerging to the bonfire from the woods holding her hand in pain and she asked me if I had a cigarette. I gave it to her and lit it for her. She told me she was having a tough night and I listened to her story of heartbreak,” I recall.

“You listened Eddie! I spent the last year before that with a man who didn’t listen. You even helped me stop my knuckles from being broken by resetting that one,” she recalls.

“Oh my god that’s right! Sorry about that by the way,” I say, remembering her scream when I did reset her finger since she forgot to throw with her thumb tucked in.

“Don’t be. I needed it in more ways than one,” she says. I continue to relive that night and I remember how hurt Y/N was and to this day, it infuriates me how someone could do something so cold-blooded to someone who fits the cookie cutter mold. It’s almost like this girl was the girl I’ve spent the last year searching for and she’s this close to being mine.

“Anyways. What are our movie options since we’re not paying attention to this one?” I ask, changing the subject so I could stop thinking about her for a little bit.

“Um, some basics like Alien, Rocky Horror, Carrie and Friday the 13th. I already watched Evil Dead,” she says 

“Could we watch Friday the 13th?” I ask as I get up to take out the current tape. She wolf whistled when I had my back turned.

“Nice ass Munson,” she complimented and I thanked Satan for having my back turned to her because I was definitely blushing as I shook my ass a little extra.

“Enjoying the show?” I tease as I replace the tape. 

“Oh yes. More please,” she joked. I continued for a minute while the previews started, getting really into my dance before making my way back to the couch.

“Make room” I say as she scoots up and makes room for me behind her. I squeezed in and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her in close. We watched as the opening scene started: a pair of camp counselors sneak off to have sex and get stabbed. She jumped a little of the jump scare so I pulled her closer.

“I got you Y/N. No reason to be scared, pretty girl,” I say as I brush her hair softly from the back. The movie started to explain the backstories but I found myself thinking about her. How I was able to make her happy and make a bad day for her turn into an okay day. I hope she knows she does the same for me. We watched Friday the 13th, Carrie and Alien. I tried not to laugh when Y?N hid her face in my corseted chest during the chest burster scene in Alien but protected her nonetheless.

“Alright. Go put your costume on. If we’re gonna watch Rocky Horror; we’re gonna do it properly.” I say to her, patting her on the thigh to signal her to get up. She laughed a little but complied, going upstairs to go change I assume. I grabbed my backpack and started to grab my lunch pail out when the phone rang. I debated answering it but it wasn’t my house.

“Could you get that?” Y/N yelled down the stairs.

“Sure!” I say back as I got up to run to the kitchen. Fuck!

“L/N residence,” I say as cheerily as I could muster.

“Uhhh..Y/N?” a voice said that I could recognize a little bit.

“She’s busy at the moment. Who could I tell her is calling?” I ask seriously.

“It’s Ali. Who the fuck is this?” she sneers. I laugh in relief.

“It’s Eddie. She’s getting changed right now into her costume. She’s doing okay now but I’m not sure how she’s gonna be feeling later,” I admit.

“Oh thank God, it’s you. I thought it was some stranger. Okay I’m glad she’s doing okay. We’re about to go to Jimmy Gershwin’s party then we might stop by afterwards,” Ali says as Y/N walks down the stairs in a bedazzled gold blazer, matching top and bow tie with striped shorts, black tights, blue socks and black heeled shoes. She looked amazing, it made me super glad I decided to match her costume. 

“Well if you end up not being able to make it, meet us at the movies tomorrow at 8?” I say as Y/N got closer.

“You got it” Ali says as she says she’s gotta go and hangs up.

“Who was that?’ Y/N asks.

“Oh it was Ali saying she was going to some party but was checking on you,” I say taking in her costume again.

“Well I feel better now thanks to you,” she says with a smile.

“You look amazing,” I say to her, earning a bigger smile.

“So do you Eddie,” she says. “Want a drink or something?” She offers, going to the bar in the kitchen, heels clicking against the linoleum.

“Sure surprise me?” I ask as she grabs a few bottles. I watched as she started to mix up some of the liquor into a shaker thing.

“How do you know how to do this?” I ask.

“My dad taught my brother and I early on so he didn’t have to make his own drinks,” she admits.

“Where is your dad now?” I ask.

“With Sharon,” she says venomously. “I’m kind of the reason my parents' marriage ended but I couldn’t just sit on the lie and see my mom live a lie,” she said as she walked to the fridge and grabbed an orange.

“I think you did the right thing,” I say to her as I sit at the counter.

“I do too but like I miss having a dad” she admits sadly.

“At least we’ve got awesome uncles who can fill that role” I note as she looks at me with a sadder smile.

“You’ve got a point” she says as she slices two big slices of orange and puts them on the rim of the glasses.

“I’m sorry you’re going through so much,” I say genuinely.

“It’s okay. At least alcohol exists,” she says as she shakes the drink for a few seconds before pouring the drinks perfectly. She puts the shakers in the sink and walked towards me with drinks in both hands.

“You ready for this?” I ask taking the drink from her dominant hand. She nodded and led the way towards the living room, putting her drink down on one of the coasters as she started the last movie. I followed her lead and put my drink down as I settled into my spot on her couch. She returned to my side, leaning forward to get her drink. We watched as the floating lips introduced the film and she sang along to every word. When the Brad and Janet storyline started, I grabbed my drink and took a few big gulps. Damn, it was really good. She really did know how to make a drink. When it came time for the Time Warp, Y/N put her drink down and grabbed my free hand.

“Dance with me?” she asked with her best puppy dog eyes, I couldn’t resist. I got up, putting my drink down and following her instructions. When the time came, I did exactly what she said: I jumped to the left, stepped to the right, put my hands on my hips, put my knees in tight, did my best pelvic thrust and rolled my hips in circles before jumping back and forth with her.

“Perfect! You did great Eddie.” she complimented as she kept dancing. We continued to dance for the rest of the song and smiled at each other when we finished.

“You definitely are Frank-N-Furter tonight Eddie Munson. I really can’t believe you did all this just for me. Just…thank you.” she said emotionally. I immediately pulled her into my arms, hugging her closely.

“I just want you to be happy Y/N” I say honestly.

“I am, Eddie, for the first time in a really long time.” she says into my chest.

“Good. Let’s toast to it in fact.” I say, pulling away enough to grab her drink and hand it to her. She takes it and I grab my own, raising it.

“To my best friend in this world. May she have all the happiness in the world because she deserves it. May she find more happiness in the upcoming months and find herself even more than she already has,” I say, bringing my glass to hers to clink. I notice tears in her eyes but she says nothing as she drinks a big swig of her cocktail. I do the same before setting it down and sitting back down on the couch. Y/N joins me and takes off her heels, pulling her feet under the blanket and laying down into my side. I wrap my arm around her and rub my thumb along her bicep in circles. We stay like that for the rest of the movie, only moving to drink our cocktails which were finished before Frank-N-Furter slept with Brad and Janet. I could feel her putting more support on me, signaling she was tired. I debated carrying her to her bed now but decided to wait until the movie was over. By the time it did end, she was almost asleep again.

“Hey Y/N” I try.

“Hm?” she answers.

“Hey we’re gotta do those dishes before bed otherwise your mom will know that we got into her stuff,” I warn and she slowly raises off the couch, stretching out her body. She got up and went to the kitchen, filling the sink with soapy water.

“I’m gonna go change real quick” I say loudly to her, grabbing my backpack and getting out my spare change of clothes. I went to the bathroom and started to take off the bottom part of my costume, undoing the garter belt and stripping off the black leather underwear and fishnets, swapping for my boxers and pajama bottoms. Much better, I thought to myself as I tried to undo the corset but couldn’t reach around my back. I sighed in frustration before exiting the bathroom and going back to the kitchen. Y/N was almost done with the dishes.

“Hey Y/N? Could you help me out?” I ask. She looks up and sees me motioning to the corset. She nods and comes behind me. Her hands, warm from the dish water, made quick work of getting the thread loosened and within minutes, I was freed from my trap and able to breathe normally again.

“Thank you,” I said, taking it off fully and putting it in my hands.

“No problem. I’m gonna change into my pajamas. Are you gonna stay the night?” she asked, eyes lighting up.

“If that’s what you want” I say.

“It is,” she says as she goes upstairs. I smiled at the thought of her wanting me around as I started to clean up the rest of the living room, putting the tapes back in a stack and putting all my stuff back in the backpack, making sure to hide my costume well. When she returned in her pajamas, she called for Norm and let him outside. I followed her with the joint and lighter in hand. She was seated in one of her patio seats and I took the other one, lighting the joint as I settled in.

“Are we going to school tomorrow?” I ask as I exhale my hit.

“I wanna say no but I already know my mom is gonna be here in the morning so we kind of have to,” she says.

“Well it should be easy. Everyone will either be hungover or worried about the football game,” I say, passing the joint to her. She takes it and hits it, holding the smoke for a bit before exhaling.

“Do you ever think about leaving Hawkins?” she asks before hitting the joint again.

“Like all the time. What’s on your mind?” I ask as I take the joint back from her.

“How everyone is so worried about reputations. What would it be like to be in a town where your reputation didn’t mean shit? Like a –”

“Fresh start?” I offer as I exhale my hit.

“Yeah exactly,” she says, “Maybe college can be my fresh start away from here but my mom wants me to stay close and go to Purdue or University of Indiana or some shit like Leo did. The perfect fucking song,” she spat at the end with an eye roll. “I think I’m good on that actually. You can finish it,” she says as she sits there in silence for a few minutes, clearly trying to work something out for herself. I smoke the rest of the joint and stub it out before tossing it somewhere in the yard.

“Ready to go lay down?” I ask as Norm comes back to the porch. She unhooks him and opens the door for us, Norm leading the way as we went to her room. She laid down in her bed first, taking the right side. I turned off the light and made my way to the bed, crawling in before pulling her close.

“Goodnight Y/N. Sweet dreams” I say as I get comfortable.

“Goodnight Eddie, thank you again for today,” she says in a small voice.I leaned forward and kissed her head.

“Anytime Princess” I say as we both drift off to sleep, my mind racing with thoughts of her.

Taglist: @eddies-blunt @sharkbaitouhaha @spookyscoopstroop @bobbiewritesstuff @eveieforeve02 @apublicnotebook @madaboutmunson2 @grungegrrrl @stardustworlds @sunflowerharrington @tayhar811 @imagine-all-the-imagines

[archived-kin]

petty ghost haunts their murderer but doesn’t actually do anything vengeful, more at eleven

note from kin: i don’t even know what this is myself to be honest but the simple way of putting it is that you were accidentally killed by one of satan’s fits of rage and now your ghost follows him around and messes with him at any given opportunity out of pettiness

basically i came up with the prompt ‘vengeful spirit is more of a slightly miffed and extremely petty spirit who doesn’t actually do much but inconvenience their hauntee, shenanigans ensue’ and ran with it

(as a heads up, reader is not mc in this situation, and this takes place before any of the exchange program stuff, so belphie’s not in the attic and solomon and the angels aren’t in the devildom)

fandom: obey me!

character(s): gn!reader, satan, beelzebub

pairing(s): satan/reader (though it isn’t particularly romantic since you’re, y’know, dead, so it’s more of a satan & reader)

warning(s): references to death, beel eats an entire rotisserie chicken

genre: crack (with a bit of fluff i guess???)

“For the last time, [Name], put the knife down.”

“Bite me, bitch-boy.”

Satan lets out a long-suffering sigh and sets down his mug of coffee, then reaches out and carefully pushes the floating butter knife pointed directly at his jugular back down onto the table. “I don’t know why you keep trying that. You do know it wouldn’t actually get through my skin even if you did manage to hit me, right?”

“It’s the thought that counts,” comes your disembodied voice from somewhere near the ceiling. You’ve probably decided to float up there to sulk like you always do after a failed attack.

“I’d prefer you didn’t think about it at all.”

A still-wet towel pulls itself from the rack on the wall and hits him square in the face. Satan gives an exasperated groan as it slides down his face and lands on the table with a soft splat.

“That’s what you get,” You sniff indignantly, finally materialising in front of him with a scowl. You’re floating upside down in a way that makes it look like you’re standing on the ceiling. “Buttface.”

“Come on, you can come up with better material than that,” Satan shakes his head, pushing back his chair and picking up the wet towel you’ve just flung at him to hang it back up again. “Where did all your creativity from yesterday go?”

“Six feet under with the remains of my body, probably,” you reply with a scowl. Then, as an afterthought, you add, “Confounded cheese wheel.”

“Oh, that’s a new one,” He comments, mildly surprised. “Where’d you pick that up?”

“Made it up myself. Ha!” You bob past him and through the wall, most likely to go terrorise Mammon by making his lights flicker on and off again. “Guess my creativity isn’t as dead as I am after all.”

“You still haven’t gotten over that, I see.” He sighs.

Your head immediately pops back out of the wall and glares across the room at him. “Excuse me?”

“It’s been weeks now - months, even,” Satan explains carefully as he sits back down at the table, not wanting to aggravate you further. The last time he'd brought something like this up, he’d ended up making you so angry that you’d managed to become physically corporeal enough to fling him across the room. “I would have thought you’d have passed on by now, that’s all. Surely it doesn’t take this long for the gates to the Celestial Realm to open?”

You consider his words, apparently appeased by their logic. “...I guess. Maybe I’m not passing on because I can’t rest in peace yet, like the ghosts do in horror films.”

“They’re films, you can’t expect to apply what happens in them to reality,” Satan replies flatly. “Besides, even if that was the situation, you've met all the criteria to 'rest in peace’, haven't you?”

“Are you trying to tell me, the dead one here, what merits as ‘resting in peace’?” You counter, floating back through the wall so that your entire body is in the room again. “My murderer’s still walking about like he doesn’t dress in the entire green colour spectrum and think it’s a good idea. How am I supposed to rest in peace knowing that?”

Satan looks down at his outfit, a little offended. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“What’s right with your clothes?” You shoot back, drifting over to him and passing a ghostly hand through his shoulder, apparently too lazy to muster up the energy to make your hand physical enough to touch him. “Look at it! Your blazer doesn’t even have lapels!”

“It isn’t a blazer.”

“Jacket, then.” You make a move as if to pinch at the fabric, but your fingers just pass right through it like a hot knife through butter. “It doesn’t even fit you. The sleeves are too short.”

Satan resists the urge to roll his eyes. “I wouldn’t be able to wear it if it didn’t fit me. Besides, why does it matter to you?”

“The demon I might be doomed to be attached to for the rest of my afterlife has the worst fashion sense in all three realms is the matter,” You sigh dramatically and float up to the ceiling again. “Why do you even wear rip-off jeans if you’re going to put a belt over it?”

“First of all, they aren’t rip-off jeans,” Satan tells you as you start idly making the kitchen light flicker. He should probably tell you to stop doing that whenever you get bored, but he’s gotten so used to it at this point that he can’t really be bothered to. “And, second of all, why does it matter if I’m wearing a belt on it?”

“Rip-off jeans are meant to be ripped off,” You explain with all the patience of a mother explaining something to a curious child, completely disregarding Satan’s first point. “Putting a belt on top of it kind makes that redundant.”

Satan thinks about it for a moment and begrudgingly comes to the conclusion that your statement is correct - not that it makes a difference to him. “...they’re still not rip-off jeans.”

“Think whatever you want to think, burro verde.”

“What?”

“It means green donkey in Spanish.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Where’d you get that from?”

“I took Spanish for, like, three years when I was in high school,” You shrug, and the light brightens and dims slightly with the movement of your shoulders, as if it’s shrugging with you. “Failed all the exams, but at least I got something worthwhile out of it.”

“Three years of linguistic lessons and all you learn is how to string together bizarre insults,” Satan shakes his head. “You really are incorrigible.”

“That’s a big word. You sure you know what it means?”

“Of course I do,” He gives you a slightly disgruntled look. “I wouldn’t use it if I didn’t. What do you take me for?”

“Someone who doesn’t know what incorrigible means, obviously.” You pretend to aim a kick at the spider perched quietly in the corner of the ceiling, but Timothy ignores your efforts to boot him from his web. After a moment, growing tired of bothering the little guy, you ask, “...what does it mean?”

Satan snickers, then answers, sounding as if he’s reading the definition directly out of a dictionary, “In reference to a person or their behaviour, unable to be changed or reformed.”

You contemplate his words for a few seconds. “Is that a good thing?”

“Not usually when that particular word is used for it, no.”

“Oh. Bitch.”

He pauses at that, moving his mug of now marginally cooler coffee away from his mouth again, having been in the middle of taking another sip when you decided to insult him again. “Where did that come from?”

“You called me incorrigible, which you just said is not a good thing to be,” You explain as if it’s obvious, frowning down at him. “So I’m taking it as an insult and insulting you back. Bitch.”

“You didn’t have to say it again.”

“I didn’t, but it’s fun to call you names.” You snort and glide down from the ceiling to float above the table, crossing your legs and pretending to sit down on it. “It’s not as fun as it used to be, though. You never get all puffed up about it anymore.”

“That’s your own fault for doing it so much that I got used to it,” Satan reproaches. “Besides, it was pointless getting angry. It’s not like I can do anything to you in return.”

“You could ignore me and pretend I don’t exist or something.”

“Is that what you want me to do?”

“No!” You hurriedly throw up your hands in a gesture of surrender and shake your head so hard that Satan swears he actually feels a breeze - an even more impressive achievement considering that your body isn’t even tangible. “Please don’t. You’re the only being in the entire universe that I can actually interact with.”

“Sometimes I wonder if that is a good thing,” Satan mutters.

“It’s a good thing for me, and that’s all that matters,” You reply, unfazed.

No one other than Satan appears to have the ability to see you, which is an odd thing in and of itself. Ghosts aren’t a foreign thing to the Devildom - they’re so common that you could probably just walk into a convenience store and find one shelving cans of soup - but you don’t seem to follow any of the rules that they do. Sometimes Satan wonders if you’re able to actively choose to not allow his brothers to see you as you drift around the house, but then again, he’s pretty sure that, if you had the option to make Lucifer watch you pretend to fist fight that weird skeleton hanging in his room, you definitely would.

Satan doesn’t pretend to understand the laws of your otherworldly existence - he’s read so many variations on the rules behind lingering spirits like you that he can scarcely tell the difference between pure fiction and actual logical hypothesis. It’s easy enough to wrangle you into behaving for a day so that he can observe you properly by promising to leave his radio on for you while he’s out, but the observations themselves never seem to lead to anything. He knows that you’re able to pass through any physical object (as far as he knows), can make lights (of both the electronic and candle variety) flicker at will, can muster up enough physicality to move and touch things if you try, and can phase in and out of perceivable view, but he doesn’t know why you can do any of those things.

“Quit trying to come up with explanations for everything,” You’d told him wisely a month or so ago, when you’d floated in on him muttering to himself about the possibility of something called ‘ether energy’. “You’re just gonna give yourself a headache.”

Then you’d started making his candles flicker like disco lights until he stopped.

“...but I don’t think he spotted me, since he probably would’ve commented on the floating meat cleaver if he did, and— hey, big guy!”

That last exclamation is aimed at Beel, who has just walked into the kitchen and is now rummaging unceremoniously through the fridge, most likely in search of something to eat. At this point Satan’s pretty sure that you still don’t know any of his brothers’ names - at the very least, even if you do, you’ve never called them by them.

Beel continues to sort through the various already empty boxes and containers in the fridge as you start zooming back and forth through him, marvelling over the sheer broadness of his chest and shoulders. It isn’t the first time you’ve done this to him - or indeed any of the brothers - but Satan can tell that it’s more innocent awe than any kind of objectification or intent to harm, so he doesn’t mind. As mischievous as you are, he’s pretty sure you don’t have a genuinely malicious or wanton bone in your body... well, you don’t have any bones anymore - or a body, for that matter - but the point still stands.

“Hungry?” He guesses, but it’s honestly more of a statement. It is Beel, after all.

The Avatar of Gluttony withdraws from his search briefly to offer a nod. “I didn’t get to finish all of my lunch.”

“Well, there’s a surprise,” You comment as Beel sticks his head back into the fridge, finally tiring of buffeting yourself back and forth like a pendulum and choosing to start hovering just over the second youngest’s shoulders to watch his hunt. “Wonder what he was up to that got him to stop eating.”

Satan opens his mouth to reply, then stops and closes it again. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Beel with the not-really-a-secret of your existence, but he’s sure that at some point or another, Beel will end up letting it slip to Lucifer, who would most likely want to know why your death ended up attaching your spirit to his brother, and Satan’s already gone to great lengths to make sure that the oldest won’t find out about the rampage he went on that cost you your life in the first place. It'd just be a waste of that effort for Lucifer to find out anyway. Besides, it isn’t like the information will make much difference to Beel - he can’t see or hear you, and you’re pretty harmless, so there wouldn’t be any need for him to get involved in the situation anyway.

You, meanwhile, are well aware that Satan isn’t going to be saying anything to you while one of his brothers is in the room - you don’t really understand his reasoning for it, since you like to think that you’re a pleasure of a ghost to know, but you suppose you can’t really force him to make any decisions. Besides, you’re pretty content with the way things are right now; you don’t want to complicate the situation by bringing in another demon who, as far as you know, might just smite you on the spot if they find out about your existence.

Instead, you busy yourself with watching in fascination as Beel somehow pulls what looks like a rotisserie chicken from the very back of the fridge and shove the whole thing in this mouth. You exchange slightly disturbed looks with Satan as he begins to chew - you’re pretty sure you’ve just seen him dislocate his jaw like a snake to fit it in there.

“You might want to calm down, Beel,” Satan advises after a brief moment’s stunned silence, though even he knows that it’s a fruitless warning. “You’ll end up choking.”

Beel nods, but makes absolutely no move to slow in his aggressive chewing.

“This must be what the peak of evolution looks like,” You say in bemused awe as Beel finishes eating. The entire chicken has disappeared down his throat - bones and all. “How the hell does he manage that?”

Satan doesn’t answer, but his subtle shrug says that your guess is as good as his.

Much to your surprise and Satan’s resignation, Beel immediately goes back to the fridge, apparently unsatisfied by the copious amount of fowl he’s just eaten. To be honest, you feel sorry for the guy - while the you from when you’d still been able to eat would have done some unspeakable things to be able to consume as much as he does and still remain that fit, you’re sure that the black hole he calls a stomach must be an awful thing to have to deal with. At least he gets to enjoy a lot of food because of it, though you suppose it’s a double-edged sword if he’s also constantly being scolded for it. Personally, you don’t understand the reasoning behind telling someone off for eating as much food as they need, but they are demons. You probably shouldn’t expect them to have that level of compassion.

By the time you break out of your train of thought, Beel has found something else to eat amidst the many empty boxes in the fridge. It’s much smaller than the rotisserie chicken - some kind of pastry with a dollop of snowy white cream on top, decorated with a few lines of melted chocolate to look like a cat’s face. In fact, it looks almost identical to…

“Hey, wait!” You swipe a useless hand through Beel’s arm as he raises the pastry to his mouth. “Don’t eat that—!”

Too late. The pastry disappears into Beel’s mouth, and you drift backwards again, letting out a defeated groan. Satan shoots you a curious look - you can’t eat, after all, so why are you so upset about Beel eating that pastry? Is there something special about it?

His question is answered when he actually turns to look at his younger brother. The Avatar of Gluttony has gone rigid on the spot and is blinking rapidly, his eyes the size of moons.

“Beel…?” Satan questions hesitantly. “Are you feeling alright?”

Beel takes a long moment to respond, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Satan takes a closer look and realises that Beel’s pupils seem to have dilated to an almost impossible degree, resembling a cat’s eyes when it’s about to go absolutely feral. Whatever it is was in that pastry, it’s definitely hit him hard.

Now, Satan isn’t one to interrupt good fun when it’s about to happen, so instead of stepping in and performing some sort of spell that might help on his possibly-high brother like a good guy, he sits back and watches as Beel’s head swings around the room as if he's never seen anything in it before like the mischief-loving little shit he is. Beel himself doesn’t appear to be negatively affected, so it can’t be that bad, right?

You float cautiously around the giant as his hands ball into fists. His entire body is trembling slightly with pent-up energy. Then, a split second later, as if he’s been zapped by some catalystic bolt of lightning, he abruptly snaps back on his heel and positively zooms out of the room. You can practically see the cartoony cloud of dust that he’s kicking up as he disappears down the corridor.

“He’s absolutely zooted right now,” You comment, flipping upside with a resigned sigh and crossing your arms a little grumpily. “I told him not to eat it.”

“He couldn’t hear you, you know,” Satan says, moving over to the fridge and slamming it shut, since Beel has neglected to. “What was even in that thing?”

You shrug. “Don’t know. I’ve just been calling it demon-nip.”

“I suppose that it does to demons what catnip does to cats, then?” Satan doesn’t even wait for you to answer before continuing - rude. “How did you even get a hold of it? Never mind that, how did you manage to get it in a pastry and put it in the fridge?”

“I got some help from one of the poltergeists downtown to make it,” You wave your hands about dismissively. “You should pay more attention when you go out. I disappeared for, like, five hours, and you didn’t even notice.”

“When even was this?”

“Tuesday, I think. Remember when you bought that giant bag of cat paw-shaped biscuits and then accidentally dropped the bag in the hall and got them everywhere?”

You don’t miss the way that the tips of his ears go slightly pink as he coughs subtly and averts his gaze. “...why would the poltergeists help you? They hate humans.”

“I don’t know, actually…” You ponder for a moment, then decide, “...probably because I’m cute.”

“Are you?” Satan deadpans. “Cute is what you’d call a cat. You’re just… tolerable.”

“Oh, fuck you, I think I’m adorable.” You huff, flying over and poking him hard in the side of the head. Satan hisses in pain and reaches up to rub the sore spot, but he supposes he should have seen that blow coming - you’re never too humble to make yourself physical enough to hit him after an insult.

“Where did that idea even come from?” He asks quickly, not wanting to take another attack. You may be a mere imprint of a dead human, but your fingers are sharp, and he’d prefer not to provoke you further if he can avoid it.

His change of subject is so abrupt and obvious that it’s almost laughable, but you choose not to call him out on it. As much as you’d like to set him on fire or something, he hasn’t given you a really good reason to commit arson yet, and you’d just end up feeling bad for doing it. Well, to be fair, he did kill you… but still, you don’t want to keep holding that over his head.

“I read it in a book.” You answer. Satan’s eyes light up slightly.

“Do you remember the title?” He asks almost eagerly, and you disguise a snicker. His intentions are practically painted in bright red paint across his face - he’s hoping that there’ll be more schemes like the one you’ve performed that he can use against that sadist of an older brother of his.

Unfortunately for him, the book doesn’t exist. “Yeah. It’s called One Hundred Ways To Get Back At The Ass That Killed You, Free Of Murder and Actual Crimes That Might Get You Persecuted And Sent To Super Hell.”

Satan clearly isn’t thinking very hard today, because for a moment he actually looks as if he believes you - you suppose it’s because he’s grown desensitised to the oddness of such long titles after hearing so many weirdly specific anime titles from the otaku brother that you still have yet to see come out of his room. (You’ve floated in a few times to have a look around and appreciate the decor, but other than that, you’ve barely even seen his face. You’re not even sure what his name is, to be honest…)

He realises what you’re getting at after a moment, though, and immediately frowns at you in disapproval. You just grin, pleased with your small victory.

“You're insufferable,” He says, shaking his head with an long sigh.

“No, I'm cute,” You counter, frowning. “Weren't you listening to me earlier?”

He throws his hands up hastily as you drift forward with a hand brandished and a nasty glint in your eye, unwilling to get jabbed at again. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

You, however, don't relent. Eyes narrowing, you float even closer - so close that, if you'd been physical, he’d have been able to feel your breath on his face. “Say it.”

Satan may be one of the seven most powerful demons in the Devildom (below Diavolo, of course, and possibly Barbatos), but the aggression of a pissed-off ghost, especially if that ghost is you, isn't anything he wants to be on the receiving end of right now. “Fine, fine! You're adorable, you're cute, whatever. Now will you leave me alone?”

You finally pull back, beaming in a gratified fashion. “That's all I wanted to hear!”

Satan gives you an irritated look as you drift back across the kitchen, a satisfied grin on your face. “You’re insufferable.”

“You’ve said that already,” You sing back, laughing in victory when you see his eyebrow twitch slightly in annoyance. “And you had the nerve to lecture me about creativity earlier! Why don’t you come up with better material, Mr Shoes-Up-My-Ass?”

He doesn’t reply for a good moment, attempting to think of a insult to counter your admittedly slightly juvenile one. Try as he might, though, all of his good jibes seem to have evaporated. “...shut up.”

His pathetic response, of course, immediately compels you to take the piss out of him. Clutching your chest dramatically, as if Satan’s just stabbed you with the knife you’d been waving about earlier, you wail, “Oh, thy words do wound me! 'Tis like thou hath rip’d my heart out with thy own hands!”

Satan glares you for a long moment, but he doesn’t have the heart to keep it up when you’re grinning so brightly. Honestly, you’re a nuisance and a brat sometimes, sure, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t consider you his closest friend at this point. “...do you even know how to use those words?”

You drop the act faster than Asmo throws it down on a Saturday night, shrugging and floating back over to hover just above the chair across from Satan’s. “Nope. It sounded right, though, right?”

“I haven’t read enough works in Old English to know,” Satan admits with a shake of his head. “But it did, I suppose…”

It’s kind of weird that he’s agreeing so easily, you think. Has he just had enough of your bullshit and is complying with to keep you quiet? Or has he just finally seen the light of your brilliance?

...well, you suppose it doesn’t matter. You grin and move to ruffle his hair, but forget to make your hand physical and instead end up flying right through his head. Satan shudders slightly - though he doesn’t feel it, it’s still weird to have an entire hand and arm go through his cranium.

“Could you not?” He complains as you right yourself and pull your hand back again. “This feels weird.”

“Baby.”

“Pet names aren’t going to do anything,” He sighs, pulling his chair to the side so that he’s no longer half-inside your torso. “Hands to yourself.”

“No, it was an insult,” You correct him. “I was calling you a baby. Though bitch-boy works too.”

Satan lets out a long sigh. Now you’re just back where you started.

[nightowlfandom]

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher x Reader- 27 (Part 3/Finale)

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

Alright you weenies, here’s the last part of 27....

I realized I’ve also made an error, I forgot that they already killed her other boyfriend, so let’s say the ex they killed in the previous chapter was a different ex.

leggo

...

Today was the day and you were excited.

Vengeance, the cherry on top, the final piece of this damned puzzle. You had snapped. You were completely bloodthirsty now and you WISHED someone would try to stop you. You had come a long way. A VERY long way. It was safe to say both Billy and Stu rubbed off on you a tremendous amount and you were absolutely fucking ready!

It didn’t help that you had two killers hyping you up to all hell. From Billy whispering how many hours were left in the day to Stu commenting about how hot he’d think it would be to have sex in a pool of blood.

When it came time to leave, the boys offered to walk you home.

“So who you gonna get first?” Billy held your hand as Stu stood your opposite side with an arm around your shoulder. 

“Definitely the old man.” you declared. “I want to watch the life leave his eyes. He’s the reason behind all this.”

“How so?” Stu asked.

“He’s convinced I’m not really his child, he’s been trying to get me out of that house since I turned 12...” the guys noticed your significant mood change. “Nevermind that.” you shook your head. “My mom can fuck off with the rest of them, her and her can-do-no-wrong, perfect home bullshit.” you seethed. “I’ll explain while everything’s going down.”

...

“I’m home...if anyone gives a shit.” you grumbled the last part. You walked in to see your mother and father along with Hannah’s mother and father. They were all sitting at the table. Hannah’s mom and dad were bawling their yes out while your parents comforted them.

“Y/N...I’m glad your here.” you father spoke up. “We were talking about funeral arrangements.”

“For the daughter you wish you had instead of me? Not interested.” you rolled your eyes. “If you need me, I’ll be doing homework. Parentals, friends. Friends parentals.” you shortly introduced Billy and Stu to your folks. 

“Nice to meet you.” Billy managed to express. Stu put on a fake smile and waved. 

“Keep your door open so we can hear you!”

“Why would I close the door? You guys would just kick it open anyways.” you grunted. 

You had no reason to be cordial with your family anymore, just because they wanted to put on a show for your guests, you’d give them a damn show.

“Y/N don’t talk to your mother like that.”

“Then I’ll talk to Hannah’s family.” you turned to the two mortified adults.

You could see Billy and Stu out of the corner of your eyes, both looking like they were about to burst out laughing.

“Y/N we have nothing against you.” Hannah’s mom wept. “We knew Hannah could be a bit much.”

“Hannah was much? Oh No Mrs. Doyle. Your husband screwing around with your teenage secretary was much.” you crossed your arms. “Your daughter was a fucking nightmare and I’m glad no one has to put up with her shit anymore.”

You wanted to see just how far you could take this before your parents exploded. 

“Y/N L/N!” Your father rose from his seat, ready to storm over.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Stu was first to stand in front of you. “Mr. L/N with all due respect, I’d advise you against that.”

“And just who do you think you are?” 

“The man whose about to be responsible for your funeral if you take another step.” Billy stood next to Stu, the both of them making a human wall, separating you from them. “Geez Y/N you weren’t kidding.”

“You should see our security camera footage.” you scoffed. 

“Well this has been a lovely chat but we really must be going.” Mrs. Doyle stood to her feet. 

“Oh nononono~” Billy sang with conviction. “Sit your asses down...let’s play a little game.” (I know Saw hadn’t been made yet, just go with it.)

...

Watching back the camera footage hurt a lot more than you thought it would. You couldn’t imagine how everyone else was feeling. Both of Hannah’s parents were tied up with blindfolds over their eyes. Stu had knocked out your dad and tied him to the table while Billy handled your mom, duct-taping her hands and wrists to a chair...

“Look at that. An innocent little girl...” Billy shook his head as he listed to your parents berate you to your face. You blocked everything out while you watched. How Hannah and her would smile in your face all the while being your biggest tormentors. How you couldn’t tell your mother or father because they never believed you the first ten times you tried. 

It was all crashing down on you now.

There was an eerie silence as your crying voice filled your own ears. You were used to crying yourself to sleep by that time. All of this happening a little before you met the boys.

“Y/N, whatever you have to tell us, we don’t have to involve them.” your mother sobbed.

“Mommy....you’re crying.” your voice broke as you opened your mouth to speak for the first time in a couple of hours. “But what about when I was crying?....What about when I was in the hospital scared for my life? What about when you guys were threatening to ship me across country....” much like you did with Hannah, you kicked the chair sending your mother falling back.

“And you.” you turned towards your dad. “I know you don’t believe I’m your biological daughter...and guess what...I hope I’m not either.” you growled, staring down at the now cowering man. “You are pathetic...both of you.” you turned back towards the TV screen. A video of you in your bedroom (since your parents didn’t believe in privacy) was playing. You were on the phone with your friend Kyla.

“No, no I know Ky.” you laughed. You had a much different laugh than you do now. “...I don’t know, it’s hard to trust cute faces like theirs.”

Your eyes widened as you listened to what you were saying. Before you could go to turn it off, Stu had taken you in a hug. “Oh no princess, don’t be rude...let the video play!”

“Do I like them?....Maybe...okay totally!” you watched yourself squeal as you threw the pillow you were hugging across the room. “Kyla I wish you were here to see them THEY ARE SO-” you covered your mouth to stop from shouting too loud. “They are so cute and so hot and they wanna be seen with me!...of all people! No I’m not gonna make a move on them.”

“Awww Y/N has a crushy wushy on us!” Stu gushed. “We love you too baby!” Stu abruptly kissed you, right there. You almost forgot Billy was standing there. 

“Woah...” you almost lost balance. 

“Young lady! How dare you-” You father tried to said.

“Oh shut up!” Stu took it upon himself to finish the job. 

(OKAY SHEILD YOUR EYES NOW)

Stu wrapped a hand around your dad’s neck and applied pressure, so much to the point where his face went blue within a mere 5 seconds. Stu laughed maniacally, only seeming to tighten his grip while Billy continued to antagonize your mother, laughing in her face while she watched the horror happen with her husband.

“Y/N...why?” your dad choked as he struggled.

“Why not...and while we’re here.” you shrugged. “I killed Hannah.”

“WHAT?”

You almost forgot Hannah’s parents were in the room, listening to everything go down.

“Oh yeah.” you shrugged. “Bitch had it coming...the better question is what should I do to you two.” you crossed your arms as you thought.

...(Time skip)

“Pretty isn’t it.” You gazed up at the stars. 

“Not as pretty as you.” Billy flirted, using his sleep to wipe your face. As you all sat on the front steps of your porch, ambulances and cop cars lined up the street for many blocked.

“I agree.” Stu wrapped an arm around you waist. “Be honest, how do you feel?”

“I feel free.” you replied, letting out a large sigh. The cops had just finished questioning you. Your story was clear. Your dad lunged at your mom first and Hannah’s parents saw too much...then he accidently tripped and hung himself. Perfect crime. Billy and Stu were walking by when they heard your cries for help and they hopped in.

As to how you three managed to escape unscathed, they got you out of there in time just as he was hanging himself. As for the tapes playing on the T.V...they were watching old videos to find something to ground you for. (Something they usually did anyways.)

“Good.”

“I just don’t know where I’m gonna live now. My aunt lives the next city over and that’s a long drive.”

“Hm...just gonna have to live with us now!” Stu shrugged, we’ll all be like a married couple!

“All...as in-”

“Yes, the three of us.” Billy grabbed your attention. “Lucky you, eh?” He pecked your lips when the officers wasn’t looking just as Stu planted a smooch on the back of your head.

“Young lady.” the officer walked up to you three. “You’re lucky to have escaped them, that psychopath stabbed your mother 27 times...who does that?!”

You paused before you gave your answer. “I guess he was just fed up, officer.” 

Stu tried hard to contain his laughter while Billy coughed into his hand, you all knowingly shared a look.

Yes...fed up indeed.

(So...I guess this slasher stuff might be a regular thing...I kinda like it)

[hxnmantii]

Good little Kitten

tw: Dacryphilia, edging, pet play, a bit of degradation, mirror sex, humping, foot job (?), a bit of praising as well, Mentions of Master

Rating: M for Mature (+18)

Pairing: Sub! Kageyama x Gn!reader

A/n: Dom! Tobio this and Dom! Tobio that but what about Sub!Tobio hmmm?? Pillow Prince! Tobio?? Representantion people. Anyways this is my first fic for @ultimate-astridwriting event as well as my first smut I’ve written on here so please look forward to it. Creative criticism and comments are appreciated!

It all started with the stupid nickname Kitten. His teammates started calling Kageyama that after coming to the realization that he was not only obsessed with milk but had similar behavior traits of a cat. It didn’t really bother him much though. As long as it didn’t intervene with you or volleyball, he didn’t give a rats ass what they called him unless it was ‘the king’ but even then he became used to the insulting nickname. The real problem that sparked the flame was when you started calling him kitten, one of his teammates running their big mouthes to you about it.

Ever since then you slyly tuned into buying more cat items, coming home each day with something cat related whether it was stickers, thigh highs, or a cat bottle. Kageyama accepted the gifts nonetheless because he enjoyed the extra attention that came with it. That why he was unsurprised when you came home today carrying another baggie from the store.

“Y/n what’s in the bag?” He asks, his blueberry eyes watching your every move. He just knew that you were up to something, the ridiculously big smile on your face evident to that. You shimmy towards him before pulling out your lug for the day. A realistic looking black tail that ended with a silver metal plug, matching kitten ears and a collar met his curious glaze and he froze. To say that he didn’t even have the heart to ask what it was an understatement. At this point he just grateful you haven’t tried to feed him cat food.

“Who is this all for?” His voice meeting a range of disinterest although internally he was all over the place. It didn’t effect your excitement in the slightest for all you did was lean in closer. He audibly gulps.

“For you, babe.” You say as you push the stuff towards him only for it to meet his refusing hand. He pushes it back to you, an awkward smile on his face so he can politely decline.

“Oh..uh no thank you. I’m not into cosplay.” You giggle. You drop the cat toys on the couch to place your hand on his cheek and caress his cheekbones, his head naturally leaning into your touch. The smile never leaves your face as you watch him soak in your warmth. He look up only for his eyes to widen at the soft look of lust and adoration on your face. He can’t help but turn away from your daunting glaze, his cheeks turning a light pink. Of course, You don’t accept that because you slide into his lap and force him to look into your eyes by firmly but gently gripping his chin.

“It’s not cosplay silly. It’s pet play!” Your eyes are only met with confusion. His innocence was both pure and daunting. With volleyball being his main priority over everything expect recently you, it’s not a surprise. You explain to him what pet play was and how you use the tail. The color of tomato was understatement of what color he turned but you continued to stroke his cheek in hope that he was relax again.

The idea of completely surrending himself over to you whilst you coddle him and call him a good kitten but make him act like a cat gets him undeniably excited. He would never confess out loud though. But you knew, you always knew. Understanding Kageyama was like reading a book, his expressions that he could never hold back, telling you all that you needed to know. His dick twitches which doesn’t go unnoticed.” C’mon baby what do you say?”

“I want to be your kitten, Master. Please let me be your kitten.” Your Cheshire Cat grins returns and you hop off his lap to sit next to him. Piling up the toys into the bag, you wordlessly nod towards the bedroom and he’s instantly up and walking at almost an excited speed walk.

You meet him in the room to see him patiently waiting for you on the bed. You tsk while shaking your head disappointedly. “This won’t do. Kittens don’t sit on the bed especially not if they’ve been outside. Get down.”

No questions asked, he’s on the floor immediately although confused. He’s seen cats sleep on the bed so why was he not allowed on the bed. He wanted to ask questions but he was too embarrassed at his lack of knowledge on this topic to even muster enough courage to look at you. His eyebrows unconsciously furrow in concentration. You chuckle.

“Baby,” his eyes snap up to met yours, your amused glaze reigning down on him. “You’re thinking too hard about this. Not everything I tell you is going to be just like what a cat would do, okay? Remember this is just foreplay.”

“Yes Master.”

“Good.” You crotch down to his level, a smile decorating your face. You caress his face before running your hands through his black hair and similar to a cat he hums happily, leaning into your wispy touch. Your eyes widen. He was too damn cute.

"Such a good kitten," you whisper. Once again taking your place above him. "Strip and stick your ass in the air."

He hesitates momentarily, another bright red blush blooming across his face as his eyes drag towards the floor and he starts pulling his clothes off one by one, the silence only furthering his embarrassment. You leave him to it so you could bring the body length mirror from out the closet. Standing in front of him, you block him from looking at himself yet.

"You're going to look so cute as my kitten, baby." You whisper whilst putting the black cat ears on, the collar following afterwards. You then move behind him, the tail and lube in your hands. "Color?"

"Green" he mutters. You smile and rub your hands up and down his back in attempt to soothe his nerves. It's not like he hasn't taken anything bigger but exploring new kinks always made him nervous. "Okay kitten, i need you to keep your eyes on me. The whole time. Understand?"

“Yes Master.” You can hear him gulp before he lifts his head up to meet your eyes in the mirror . You give him a reassuring smile before drenching your hands in the slippery liquid and sticking your index finger. Immediately, you’re rewarded with a low moan. His moan spurs you on as you continue to slip it in out of his tight hole, making wet lewd sounds that only made his dick harder.“P-please more Master” He ask. In response, you kiss his strong back. “Of course my cute little kitten since you asked so nicely.”

You slide in your second finger next to the first and search for that spongy spot. You know you find it when he lets out a high pitched moan, arching his back more so he could meet your thrusting. You took it upon yourself to grab his dick and match your finger’s pace. His moans only getting louder.Every whine and mewl was absolute heaven to your ears as he allowed himself to be immersed by the pleasure he was receiving. Oh god he was almost there. The way you expertly fucked his hole while stimulating his dick at the same time had him closing his eyes, his arms getting weak with each bolt of pleasure.

His dick pulses. The ending was right in hindsight but just as he was about to cum, you stop and take your fingers off of him. He cries out, his eyes snapping open into the mirror. His tear filled eyes meet your disappointed ones. “What a bad kitten. Didn’t I tell you to keep your eyes on the mirror?” His frown deepens as he nods. “And aren’t you suppose to tell me when you come? Tsk tsk That’s two rules you just broke baby. Now I’ve gotta punish you.”

“W-wait I didn’t mean to...please..” His ocean eyes filled with tears that pulled your heartstrings and you almost considered not punishing him, almost. You unexpectedly stick your fingers back in his hole and add a third finger. A high pitch mewls escape his lungs as he grips the floor at the overwhelming pleasure. Quickly he was brought back to that high and once again he was pleading to cum. You continue the abuse on his hole only to snatch your hands out of his hole again. “Color?”

“FUCK! GREEN! PLEASE GO” You place a kiss on his ass and rub his hips soothing, watching his every expression through the mirror as you slide the large metal plug in. He lets out a silent moan at the feeling of being so full so quickly, his legs trembling with the new weight that kissed his prostate. At this point, his tears had spilled over, racing down his fac as he releases a shaky breath. “You did so well kitten. I’m so proud of you. Just look at how cute you look with your tail.”

He didn’t know when but at some point he had let his head fall to the ground. He slowly lifts his head and forces himself to sit upright, the tail sliding in deeper and putting more pressure on his prostate. The overwhelming pleasure makes him double over and he lets out a pussy throbbing moan. It was just too much so instead of looking at himself, he turns to look up at you with the biggest puppy eyes while grabbing your leg. Any humiliation he had earlier was thrown out, his only concern now being the ache in between his legs as he humps your leg pathetically. You can’t help but chuckle.

“It seems like your team has gotten it wrong. You’re more like a bitch in heat than a cute kitten.”

“Ahh p-please Master...I’ve been good..g..ood...I’m your good boy pleas.” You shake your head. You spoil him absolutely rotten. Removing your leg from his grasp, you salutner over to the bed.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty. Come sit in front of the bed.” Without telling him, he crawls to sit in front of you. He’s a trembling mess due to the tail still putting pressure on his prostate. A shiver runs through you as his tears run anew.

“You may cum but only from the tail and my foot.” He whines but comes closer none the less, grabbing your foot to apply pressure to his tortured, weeping dick. To make it a bit more fun, you turn on the vibration tail and he screams out in pleasure, almost cumming right then and there. You watch in amusement as he struggles to buck his hips against your foot, sobbing out incoherent words about cumming.

“Oh god ‘lease...ahhh p-lease can I-I c..um” he sobs.

“Go ahead kitten.” He sits back on the tail and allows the vibration to set him off. He’s cum hard, the fluid flying across his chest and almost touching his face. The aftershocks shake his body violently allowing him to let out one prolonged moan. You allow the vibration to run until he’s whimpering out from overstimulation. Immediately,he’s in your arms, breathing harshly in the crook of your neck.“You did so good baby. You’re such a good boy. Can you lay on your stomach for me?”

He silently nods and weakly moves onto his stomach so you could remove the tail. He lets out a high whine as you slowly pull the large butt plug out before helping him sit back up into your arms. You pass him the water that had been sitting on the nightstand while getting out the baby wipes and cleaning his body. He puckers his lips and you happily indulge, giving him a soft kiss before taking off the ears and collar.

“Thank you.” He whispers bashfully. You smile at him and run your hand through his hair; his hum of content vibrating into your chest. “Now let’s move to the bed okay?” He nods again and lifts himself into the bed, your worried self following. He pulls you into his chest and you snuggly up, the both of you falling asleep with smiles on your face.

[simeons-sinful-saint]

Summertime Happiness

(OM) Boys (excluding Simeon, Solomon) x GN!Reader

Synopsis: the beach episode

WC: 3.2k

Note: it’s summer, and I miss the beach. I really want to go so I projected it here. I will say this is a part one bc I plan on writing smut for part two and you get to pick which ending you want. For example, you could pick to spend the night with Diavolo or you could choose Mammon. I’m challenging myself to write for each character so we’ll see how that goes.

“Beach! beach! Beach!” Mammon, Asmo, and Levi were chanting in the back of the car.

“Guys, we’re not even halfway there.” You groaned. They had been like that ever since you got to the human world. They then started squabbling about what to do. Mammon then tried to steal Levi’s tablet. Asmo seemed to ignore them completely.

“This would be our first human world beach! Of course, we’re excited. Just think of all the photos I could post.” Asmo was gleeful, the main person who suggested this trip.

“Well can you guys keep it down. I’ll turn this car around if you don’t!” They shut up, leaving you able to concentrate on the road, “You guys are lucky that Lucifer is in the other car.”

“I didn’t know you could drive MC.” Satan was in the front seat next to you.

“Of course! I’ve been driving since I was 16.”

“I’m sure you could teach Mammon how to drive safer.”

“Oi! Quit insulting me!”

“Honestly, why couldn’t Belphie be in my car. He’d just sleep.” You grumbled under your breath.

“I still don’t understand why Diavolo would want to come here when he has a beach of his own. Besides the beach is stupid.” Satan was now complaining. The choir in the back started up again, and you could feel the headache develop.

Instead of listening to them, you turned the music up to drown out the noise they were making.

That’s when Barbatos gave you a call. You answered it hands free, “hello?”

“MC, it seems the young lord would like to visit the nearest rest stop. He wants to see a human world gift shop.”

“There will be gift shops at the beach!”

“You don’t understand MC! I heard rest stop gift shops offer a wide variety of trinkets that the state offers.” Diavolo sounded too excited for you to say no.

“Also, Beel ran out of food, and we don’t want him to rampage in the car.” Lucifer sounded annoyed, probably because he got put in the back seat since Barbatos was driving.

“I’m hungry…” you could practically hear Beel’s stomach growl from the backseat as well.

“I suppose we need to fill the cars up with gas as well. There should be a rest stop at the next exit.”

“Understood. We’ll follow you to the rest stop of your choice.” Barbatos hung up. The music resumed. Hopefully, they didn’t hear the commotion from the back of your car.

You pulled off the next exit to arrive at a big gas station/truck stop. Parking your car at a pump, the others got out of the car to stretch their legs.

“You guys go ahead and get some snacks or drinks. Make sure to get me one too. The others should show up shortly.”

They walked into the shop thankfully not arguing. Barbatos shortly pulled in at the pump opposite of your car.

They also got out, and Diavolo practically ran to the shop with Beel following behind him.

“Lucifer, please don’t let them get into any trouble. That’s the last thing we need.” He nodded already looking annoyed. Upon inspecting their car, you could see Belphie peacefully sleeping in the back seat.

Barbatos walked over with a map consulting you on the best route to the beach. Their D.D.Ds didn’t have human world GPS, and of course, they didn’t have any human world phones to access it (and you weren’t planning on buying a new phone.) With a pen, you highlighted the route after consulting your GPS. You knew that Barbatos wouldn’t get lost behind you, but it was nice having this assurance.

Barbatos then turned around and excused himself from your discussion, heading towards the gas station shop. You tended to both of the cars, making sure that they were filled up and ready to go.

When you saw all of them come back to the car, Mammon was thrown over Barbatos’s shoulder.

“Put me down!”

“I’m sorry MC, but Mammon will be riding with us now.” You didn’t even want to know. Beel now was in your car, which solved part of the headache that was going on.

Lucifer simply texted you:

Mammon tried to steal

You knew that Mammon was going to be harshly punished in Barbatos’s car which he deserved. The last thing y’all needed was for the cops to come and arrest Mammon.

You noticed how many bags of souvenirs Diavolo was putting in the back of the car. It looked like he swept the store clean of everything. Same with Beel but with food.

“Beel, please make sure to not get food everywhere in my car. My parents would kill me if I ruined their seats.” He nodded and kept chowing down on the bag of chips he got.

Satan just shook his head and handed you a granola bar and a soda. Thankfully someone remembered to get what you asked for.

You all loaded the cars back up and set off once more. This time your car was quieter, and you were so thankful for that on the rest of the way to the beach.

—

“Finally! We’re here!” Asmo exclaimed when you parked the car at the condo y’all would be spending time at. Barbatos shortly pulled in next to you.

They got out of the car and met up with you, “We’ll need rolling carts for all of our luggage and supplies. They should be in the lobby’s office.”

Lucifer and Barbatos left to go fetch them and check in to the condo for you.

It was surprisingly easy to get all of the suitcases, beach supplies, and coolers up to the room. You made sure to get a big condo so everyone could get their own room (saved yourself the headache of who will be rooming with who.)

“Alright everyone, time to set up the ground rules!” You gathered everyone to the common room, “Make sure you all remember your human world names. Please do not stray too far from the others. We do have the beach for ourselves here, but the public beach isn’t too far from here. Please be careful to not wander that way. We have an itinerary for dinner and free times. Please do try to behave yourselves over the week we are here. Other than that, we’ll have fun!”

They all agreed and left to go unpack their stuff.

“I really hope we can get through this without any trouble. We’re spending too much money being here instead of being in Devildom.”

—

The sand was nice and warm. The sunlight danced over the waves, making the ocean sparkle. Lucifer and Barbatos already got the umbrellas and beach chairs prepared, so all the rest had to do was get into swimsuits.

Running out to settle down on a chair basking in the sunlight was your first objective.

“MC, you need to apply sunscreen before you sit out in the sun.” Barbatos walked over with the spray on sunscreen.

“Right. I forgot.”

“MC, I can help you put on your sunscreen!” Asmo ran over to you, “Then you can rub it all over my body.”

“Oi! If anyone is going to rub sunscreen on them, it’s going to be me. I’m their first so I have that right!” Mammon was quick to swoop in and grab the bottle out of Asmo’s hand.

“You can’t use that excuse every time. Especially since you’ll never admit how you feel.” Satan was the next one to take the bottle.

“I-I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you know you’re a simp.” Levi came up to y’all, “O-Of course I will apply sunscreen on you MC. Who am I kidding you’ll never pick me.” You could hear every mumble under Levi’s breath.

“What on earth are you all doing?” It was Lucifer, “they are perfectly capable of putting sunscreen on themselves.”

“But their back! They couldn’t possible read that part,” Asmo flirted, “and I’m the perfect person.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes and took the bottle out of Satan’s hands, “I’ll put on your sunscreen MC”

“No fair! How come you get to do it?” They started to whine. Honestly at this point you didn’t care who put it on you.

“Thank you, Lucifer,” you turned your back towards him so he could apply the lotion on you. Feeling his hand run up and down your skin did feel nice.

The others continued to bitch at Lucifer about it.

“Haha! Your brothers are lively as always.” Diavolo stood next to Lucifer, who only sighed at his comment.

“I’m afraid so.”

Now that everyone was prepared, Mammon, Asmo, Levi, and Beel ran towards the water. Belphie was already asleep on a beach chair. Satan sat next to him with a book in hand. Diavolo was forcing Lucifer to build a sandcastle with him, while Barbatos helped by carrying buckets of ocean water.

A smile grew on your face as you ran towards the ocean yourself with a floaty, finally able to relax and play with everyone there.

When entering the nice warm water, you’re immediately dunked in. Rising back up,

“Mammon! You ass!” You move your hair out of your face.

“It’s ok MC, he did the same to me. He has a death wish,” Asmo looked furious. Every time he’s swim close to Mammon, he would simply swim away.

“Didn’t peg you as a good swimmer.”

“The great Mammon can do many things!” His laughter was infectious, and your anger fizzled out as you see the brothers chasing each other.

“Ugh, what normies.”

“What did you expect to do out here Levi?”

“Well you see I saw in this anime called A Trip to the Beach turns into a romance story and-“

“Forget I asked. I’m surprised that Mammon didn’t dunk you.”

“The water doesn’t scare me.”

“Makes sense. You do kind of control water. I guess this would be the best place to summon Lotan, besides the fact this is a human world beach.”

“Hahaha. I have no plans of doing that. My Ruri-Chan towel and bag would get soaked, and I don’t want that.”

“Right…”

You then heard eating sounds in your ear. Turning around, you see Beel mouth full of fish, “You can’t just eat the marine life here!”

“But I was hungry…”

“Then go to shore and grab some of the food we brought down here!”

Beel took you up on that offer as soon as he finished devouring the fish he caught with his bare hands. You just prayed he left something for the rest of you, lest you have to go back to the condo and get more.

Mammon quickly swam back and hid behind your back, practically using you as a shield.

“Don’t use MC to protect you!” Asmo was coming in hot. You dunked yourself under the water for Asmo to finally catch Mammon and push his head in the water.

Upon both of you returning to the surface, you shook your head to get the salt water out of your ears.

“You pushed too hard Asmo!” Mammon bitched.

“You brought this upon yourself!”

“Can you both shut up? I’m trying to fantasize about Ruri-Chan.”

“Stay out of this otaku!” They both shouted at the same time. Levi clammed up.

“Of course, they think I’m some weird gross shut in…”

“Oh Levi, that’s not true. Just let those two idiots fight and dunk each other under water. Let’s go back to shore and hunt for seashells!” He felt better from your words. Grabbing the floatie that seemed to be abandoned (you’re glad it didn’t float away into the sea), you both swam back and went to dry yourselves off.

Beel was devouring all of the food in the coolers you brought.

“Satan! Why didn’t you restrain him?”

“Huh, it’s not my job to keep Beel from eating everything. That’s Belphie’s.” You glanced to see that he was asleep basking in the summer sun.

“Of course.” You turned your attention back to Satan, “why don’t you come with Levi and I to hunt for seashells?”

“No.” It was immediate and caught you off guard, “I’m at the climax of this book, and I’ll do beach stuff when I’m done. Except go into the water.”

“Still don’t get it, but whatever.”

You grabbed the necessary supplies to gather seashells, and you made your way back to the shoreline with Levi by your side.

“Let’s see if we can find one that’s not broken! I’d love to get to a nice cone shaped one” Levi cheered up.

So far, you’ve only found broken sand dollars and pieces of broken corral, “well this isn’t great.”

“Oi! Why you hogging MC all to yourself?” Mammon always knew how to ruin a moment.

“Hey, Mammon~”

“Y-yeah?”

“You want a dollar?”

“Yes! Giving money to me is an investment-“

You simply placed a sand dollar in his hand causing Levi to practically die, howling about how you got him good.

Mammon just stood there looking like he could turn to dust at any moment. You couldn’t help but laugh.

Satisfied with your haul, you and Levi placed the bucket of shells back at the beach chairs.

“Still reading Satan?”

“Yes, and it’s getting good so leave me alone.” You roll your eyes in response. Levi said he would chill with Satan in the shade, something about getting his daily log on bonuses.

Shrugging, you turn on the group you hadn’t visited yet.

“Lucifer! Diavolo! How’s the sandcastle coming?”

“Well…I tried making a sand sculpture of Lucifer, but it doesn’t look anything like him.” Diavolo pouted. Upon looking at the pile of sand, you tried to hold back your laughter. If this was supposed to be Lucifer, then Asmo should really give him a makeover.

“The important thing is you tried Diavolo,” Lucifer tried to hide his annoyance, but of course he was bad at that (he would never admit it though.)

“Maybe we should take a break, my lord.”

“I guess so.” You felt bad and patted Diavolo on the back.

“You’ll get it right the next time you do it. Here why don’t I show you something humans do on the beach!”

Diavolo perked up, and the three of them followed you back to the shaded umbrella where their beach chairs were. You sauntered off and grabbed four bottles of beer and a bag of limes you cut up earlier (thankful that Beel didn’t eat them.)

You handed them the beer as well as a bottle opener, “Ok, so typically on the beach with this brand of beer, you push a lime into the neck of the bottle. It helps add flavor to the drink of the summer here.”

You demonstrated for them, even though Barbatos was a step ahead of you anyway. Diavolo looked at it all with wonder, taking a sip after preparing it, “Fascinating! Is this really what humans do?”

“Some. I like to do it when I go to the beach. It’s nice and relaxing. Plus, the advertising says to do this.”

“I do have to say, it does add a little aromatic flavor. However, I’ll have to decline drinking more than I already have.” Barbatos handed the bottle back to you. Even though you knew he had his reasons, it bummed you out a little.

“Well Lucifer! What do you think?” Diavolo turned towards his friend who was happily drinking his.

“Honestly, I needed some sort of break after being in the sun for so long.”

“Well, I’m glad I was able to help.” Lucifer smiled at your response, praising you about how you’re always a help to everyone.

You sat down next to them on the sand and just took in the calmness of the beach air, the smell of salty sea water filling your nose. It was enjoyable to have one moment of relaxation.

“Hey MC! Belphie’s awake! Help us throw him into the ocean!” You could hear Mammon from the other side of the beach.

“Your brothers are always so exciting, Lucifer,” Diavolo was laughing and was waiting for Lucifer to laugh along with him.

“More like a headache…”

“I’ll go over there so they don’t bother you three. Remember to get the relaxation you need. The three of you work way too hard, you deserve a break. That goes for you to Barbatos! You don’t have to be a butler here.”

He laughed at your comment, “So noted.”

Satisfied, you ran back over to the others.

“If you like to live, you’ll let go of me” Belphie was trying to fight, but with Mammon, Asmo, and Levi together, he didn’t stand a chance.

“Same for you Beel! Put me down so I can finish my book!”

“Nah, you can finish your book later. We’re at the beach. You should have fun with us!” Mammon had a death wish. They managed to pull Belphie and Satan into the water. Belphie at this point had already given up.

Satan, however, was like trying to bathe a cat. Extremely unhappy about it. He screamed profanities and was about to go apeshit, until you were by his side and holding his hand.

“It’s ok Satan. They just want you to have fun.” He huffed in response with a hint of blush developing on his face.

Finally, all of you were in the ocean, splashing water at each other, seeing who could hold their breath the longest, and float around letting the water massage your worries away.

The fun eventually was coming to a close. The sun started to set, and everyone went to pack everything up.

“Hold on!”

They turned to look at you who has a mischievous look on your face, holding up sparklers in their face, “They’re a lot of fun to have on the beach too.”

Everyone was about to decline until, “Ohhhh, that sounds like fun. I’ll do it with you MC.”

Diavolo started to take sparklers from your hand and went to get a lighter.

“Well, I guess I can do it too.” Mammon said.

“It does sound like fun. Plus, I can take all sorts of photos to post when we get back to Devildom.” Asmo ran to be by your side.

“Don’t eat the sparklers Beel,” Belphie said walking over with his twin.

“W-well it’s a normie thing to do, but if MC wants to do it then I will too.” Levi took a sparkler from the packet.

“As long as Lucifer isn’t going to participate then I will too.” Satan said.

“Too bad because Lucifer has to do this too!” Your words sounded very adamant, leaving Satan with no other choice.

Lucifer sighed but then smiled, “As long as your happy MC and Diavolo.”

You squealed in happiness. As you lit the sparklers, everyone waved them around. Asmo took photos of everyone with theirs. Mammon tried writing words (they didn’t look good.) The rest were happy to chase each other with Diavolo and Lucifer standing on the side. Diavolo was mesmerized by the sparks shooting out, and Lucifer couldn’t help but laugh with him.

Barbatos filmed the entire thing for everyone to remember later. One of the best days ever.

—

After showering, you noticed the night was still young. Everyone was kind of doing their own thing now.

You didn’t want the night to end too soon. Hitting up the town seemed like a good idea.

You sat thinking of who you should bring with you.