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smolvenger · 4 months

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The Child Called Sharpe (Thomas Sharpe x fem! Reader Blurb)

Summary: You and Thomas Sharpe welcome your first baby and his second, as Thomas himself faces his own demons regarding his past.

Word Count: 1K (er...blurb or short oneshot, whatever)

Warnings: Mentions of Pregnancy and childbirth, but nothing graphic. In this version, though I try to have a more nuanced take on Lucille, In this fic I choose to portray the Lucille/Thomas relationship as nonconsensual, pedophilic, and abusive so if you don't like that don't read this, so mentions of sexual abuse, death, illness, blood with some of the canon events of Crimson Peak. But it becomes a lot of tooth-rotting fluff.

A/N: I can't please everyone with Crimson Peak on the is Lucille good or bad vrs. is Thomas good or bad discourse, so why bother trying anymore. I just wanna write my stuff. From @holdmytesseract's request!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

Love for him meant creation. It brought out Thomas’s gift of invention tenfold- for love itself was creation. For the first time in his life, an act of love brought out the child’s creation. So it was natural for Thomas to spend hours inventing more for this little child on their way.

That is, his second child. For he had a child, once, and lost that child, once.

Yes, it was a child conceived from control rather than consent…but it was still a child in need of care. A hungry baby- a human life crying for milk, and burning with fever. A child “born wrong.” A child Enola swore to fight to keep alive.

And a child that despite everything died anyway. As did Enola.

Despite Lucille’s cruelty, he did pity her grief for that child- For it was his grief as well.

Lucille caught ill and died not long after. He at least made sure she died comfortably. Warm beneath blankets on a soft bed. Assured her she was loved and kissed her cheek as she took her last breath.

It was complicated, his feelings about his late sister. He never could decide one thing about her. For everything was true- there was both in her. Lucille, both cruel and misunderstood, powerful and pitiful, villain and victim.

Though he never once forced himself on anyone or took advantage of a child as she did to him…

And yet…

He was still guilty of scheming, of blood, of darkness as she was. Of the invention that he wanted to be funded, that he bought at the price of three women’s lives…

But… assaulting him when he was little? Using his innocence until when he was grown he knew no other but her? You would tell him that even if the murders were understandable, she did cross a line in that regard.

He still didn’t know if the woman who at once was his partner, his equal, his sister as well as his jailer, his predator, his molester was deserving of it.

Or not.

Or both.

Yet, all of that darkness and blood was now in the past. Here you were his current wife. A wife who would never take advantage of him. A wife who listened and respected when he said “no.” A wife who wouldn’t push him. Wouldn’t manipulate him. Wouldn’t control him. A wife who forgave him and saw he was now trying to do right with his life, and his choices and would be there to support him.

Your pregnancy was poignant. A reminder that he had a new life now- and a life that was about to expand as your stomach did each month. A new life was about to come forth literally and figuratively for him.

In the corner of his workshop in a special box were toys he made once. Toys were made for the first child who died.

He never prayed, but he did now to whoever listened. For once, those toys would know being loved, being played, and for a baby’s laughter and delight and adoration. They wouldn’t rust from age, but with use. To be worn not with dust, but with love.

He brought out the box one morning and set it in the nursery of his new house. A simpler house compared to Allerdale Hall’s Majesty. Smaller and brighter, made of cherrywood and over earth rather than clay. But cheerful, the warmth bursting in every room.

The toys were cleaned and set ready in that nursery corner. You squeezed his hand after he did so.

When making sure you were comfortable, or when you slept or napped, away he would be in his workshop. He had a special toy shop now next to the house. So in his downtime, he would be found creating little toys that a child of any sex would love. A little teddy bear that twirled on top of a drum. A little cat that lifted to lick its little paw next to a puppy that wagged its tail.

But…what else would a baby need!? His mind was reeling. It had been too long…

Of course! A place to sleep! You had insisted the old wooden rocker would work…but he still had that itching, the gears in his mind whirring faster than any clay mine.

He took a few weeks to study the designs and then set right to work. He stayed up late, rolling up his sleeves. Working on one where if you pressed a small pedal, it would rock gently, oh so gently, as to not stir a baby to more wailing, but only to sleep.

So when he discovered that Lady Sharpe’s water broke, he insisted on staying by you.

“Thomas! But…husbands don’t..don’t usually stay!” you cried. You clutched his hand as he led you to the bed.

Lucille would urge him to leave when it was time to put a cleaver into one of the wives.

For once, he would look at the blood and the bodily innards spilling from his wife and not turn away.

He shook his head, though his hand was still in yours.

“No- My dear, all of my life, I closed my eyes and ran away. I didn’t look when things happened. Not this time- after I get the midwife, I am staying with you. I will not run away for once. I’m going to stay with my wife and keep my eyes open, no matter what I see. I love you- and for once, I am not leaving.” I will not leave you alone to deal with it now.

You grabbed him and kissed his cheek. Then he ran and fetched the midwife. He held to his word and stayed.

Labor is always long. Labor is always primal. But he waited there. Squeezing your hand, cooling your head for every painful cry and push.

Then, after the long hours, though he was a man used to blood he turned pale… Then at last there was a cry.

The midwives smiled, bringing out a little baby in their blaket. Declaring, “It’s a girl!”

You let out a smile and then a laugh of relief. Thomas kissed your hand, then looked at her. His blue eyes brimmed with tears, but for once in his life they were happy ones.

The little girl was brought out in her blanket, needing her mother’s touch- being so new to this cold world and wanting the soft embrace of knowing she was loved now that she was here.

“Look at her…look at her- our baby! Our daughter! Oh!” you cried, a mess of crying, swear, and relief—the pain of the last several hours was forgotten for the tiny baby.

“I never could imagine it,” he agreed, he pecked her tiny forehead.

Once she had settled down, you handed her over to Thomas. The warm, living bundle in his arms. Yes, her cry was loud and bright…but it only signaled that she was alive.. He had never known such joy without confinement, without limits.

The midwives and nurses were paid and thanked. They left, but though it was a long day his Daedelian mind was eager to share his gift.

As you sat in the bed after a while, Thomas got up.

“I have a gift now. For her,” he announced.

Setting you in the wheelchair for rest, he led you to the nursery. The little girl in your arms. Inside the little pastel room there was something in the middle that was tall beneath a blanket.

Thomas walked forward and slipped the blanket off. You let out a gasp.

Beneath was the cradle Thomas made. It was stunningly beautiful- a little pedal that when he stepped on it, would make it rock. Over the bed was a music box on the side that trinkled a lullabye. Stars and a crescent moon dangled were placed to spin over the babies head where she would be placed.

You gasped, seeing how ornate it was. Every bit made with love. As you got up and placed her inside, she opened her little eyes and cooed. You made a little gasp as she took in the sight- her parents and her special gift. Music, rocking, and the stars and moon to dance above her.

To think, after all he had seen, experienced, and done…that he would come to know this moment. Here it was…and he didn’t feel worthy of it.

What when she was older? His own father was a monster. And for a while, fatherhood was linked to such things…

“I only hope I shall be a good father for that little girl…” Thomas wondered..

“You already are,” you assured him. You wrapped an arm around him and kissed him on the cheek.

That night, you were set to sleep after the exhaustion of delivery and elation of the baby. Thomas offered to be there in the nursery. For she was crying through that night, as any baby. Not that she was hungry, as he found out, she just needed warmth.

He got her out of the lovely cradle and went to the rocking chair. He wanted to hold her, feel her close. Her warmth and beating heart and life.

His most precious creation of all…and the one that would survive. He knew she would.

“I promise you, my little love…” Thomas told the baby. “You will not know of attics. Of cold and punishments. Of plotting and murders. Of blood and cruelty…”

He kissed the top of her head.

“No- you will be Protected. Wanted…and loved.”

He would do everything so that his daughter would never have to suffer as he did.

#thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe x female reader #crimson peak fanfic #crimson peak fanfiction #sir thomas sharpe #sir thomas sharpe x reader #sir thomas sharpe x y/n #sir thomas sharpe x fem! y/n #tom hiddleston characters #angst with a happy ending #crimson peak #crimson peak fanfics #fanfiction #tom hiddleston

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bloodynereid · 7 months

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Scream for Me | Halloween Headcanons for Scream Killers

pairings: stu macher x fem! reader, billy loomis x fem! reader, mickey altieri x fem! reader, jill roberts x gender neutral! reader, amber freeman x gender neutral! reader, quinn bailey x fem! reader, ethan landry x fem! reader

tw: slight smut (nothing too graphic but yeah it's mostly fade to black stuff), mentions of horror movies, kissing, alcohol, nothing much else? it's not that crazy honestly.

description: what do killers get up to during the spookiest time of the year? well spend time with their s/o's ofc.

a/n: part 1 in my halloween double feature project! i've been meaning to write for scream for agesss so hopefully i'll do that more now that i've actually taken a stab at it (you see what i did there). anyways these are just my personal preferences so if you want a specific killer or scream character that isn't in here you can request something cause my requests are currently open! hope you enjoy <3 and have a safe halloween!

STU MACHER:

You are obviously going to some type of Halloween party (maybe even hosting one??).

You spend the night cradled in Stu’s arms as horror movies play in the background and beer flows almost like it’s falling from the sky.

You had decided to do a couple’s costume that year. So Stu obviously chose Jack The Ripper and you went as one of his victims.

He had convinced you it would be sexy.

So you lay splayed on the couch in a corset and long flowy skirt with fake blood on your neck while Stu wore a flowy cotton shirt splattered with fake blood and tight pants.

It may not be totally period accurate but you guys looked hot.

Throughout the party you and Stu could barely keep your hands off each other, something that made the rest of your friend group groan.

The tension finally became irresistible when Stu did that particular thing with his tongue which had you pulling him quickly away from the couch and up to one of the unoccupied rooms.

Stu would later tell you that was one of the best Halloweens he’d ever had and you would readily agree.

BILLY LOOMIS:

You and Billy always went all out for Halloween - ever since you were kids.

Childhood best friends to lovers. Stu always teased you for being too tropey.

But you loved each other. Even when Billy started to pull away after his mother left his father.

That Halloween you knew you had to do something special, just to try and cheer him up.

Your plan started with watching a few horror movies before going over to Stu’s for the customary Halloween party.

You had decided to go as Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling, since you were both obsessed with the movie ever since you had sneaked into a showing when it first came out.

It was just the right level of insane and scary.

Your plan came to fruition during the middle of the party, when you swiftly pulled Billy away from your little group of friends and towards one of the bedrooms.

You may or may not have suggested an idea to spice up the bedroom - with some role play.

And well… let’s say that Stu had to push the volume of the music up so people wouldn’t hear the screams of pleasure coming from upstairs.

MICKEY ALTIERI:

You were both movie fanatics, which is actually how you two met - through the film studies class at Windsor College.

You had become fast friends and when October had rolled around you had spent nearly every day watching a horror movie in either your dorm or his.

He also liked to film you, he always teased you that you were his muse whenever he pulled out the movie camera just to capture your laughing face.

On Halloween night is when things actually changed between the two of you.

You had gone as one of your favorite characters from Pulp Fiction, Mia Wallace and Mickey was dressed up as Dale Cooper from Twin Peaks.

You had met up at one of the many frat parties that the campus hosted but had ended up leaving because even if insanity was reining on a night like this, having sweaty guys crowd in around you wasn’t your vision for a good Halloween.

So you had settled in on your bed since your roommate was busy making out with someone on your couch and put on the newest episode of X-Files.

However, instead of actually watching the tv show the two of you got into some weirdly deep conversation about aliens that definitely made you sound high on something.

That was when Mickey kissed you, before he pulled away quickly - blushing intensely that made you sort of glad that he had made the move you had been thinking about doing the whole length of the conversation.

You pulled him by the collar and kissed him deeply, leaving him slightly stunned before he relaxed in your hold and pulled away a few minutes later.

After confessing the fact that he had literally been in love with you since he met you, you basically pounced on him and the rest of the night was spent with Scully and Mulder in the background as you two kissed.

JILL ROBERTS:

Jill was definitely one of those people who didn’t really love Halloween, sure she loved watching horror movies and putting on a cute outfit but that was it.

So it basically took all of your persuasive ability to get her to come out with you, even if it was just for a walk to see all the decorated houses.

Jill pretended not to enjoy seeing all of the incredible decorations and the fall leaves but you caught her smiling and watching you with sparks in her eyes a few times.

Since she wasn’t all that big on Halloween you both wore pretty understated costumes.

You went as the moon - covered in all silver and glitter placed strategically on your face.

Jill went as the sun because let’s face it, she’s literally the sun in her day to day life.

After completing your autumn walk, you grabbed two hot chocolates from one of the coffee vendors at the town center before you both walked back to Jill’s place.

You spent the night watching some random tv shows and making out.

Even if you didn’t really do anything Halloween-related it ended up being one of the best nights you had ever had with your girlfriend.

AMBER FREEMAN:

STAB MARATHONNN

Tara had tried to drag you to one of the many Halloween parties that were happening that year but you knew you had to be around for your girlfriend’s yearly tradition - especially since it was the first year you had been officially dating.

You had gotten a bunch of snacks that you both loved and dressed up as your favorite characters from the franchise.

Amber obviously went as Ghostface.

You sat cuddled up on the couch right after getting to her house when school finished and watched each Stab movie, one after another.

Amber spent a lot of time explaining certain parts of the movie or added fun facts from the actual massacre.

Most of the time you couldn’t pay attention to what was going on in the movie but it was so worth it to hear Amber rave about random details.

You thought you were more than lucky to be able to have her as your girlfriend.

Obviously you only watched up until Stab 7.

DO NOT mention Stab 8 around Amber - you had learnt that the hard way.

The date night ended with you both having eaten all the snacks and slightly over exhausted.

But that didn’t stop you from kissing the life out of your girlfriend and having some definitely not PG-13 fun.

The mask was particularly attractive, okay?

QUINN BAILEY:

Being with Quinn meant that you had to live with constantly being surprised by her.

For Halloween you had decided that you would hit a few frat parties before going to an escape room (which was her suggestion surprisingly enough).

So you rocked up to the escape room place in your Harley Quinn (you) and Poison Ivy (Quinn) costumes and were led by a member of the staff towards one of the many rooms.

Since Quinn had picked everything out, you didn’t know what to expect.

You two ended up doing a noir version of an escape room, with dramatic music and every aspect in the room was bathed in black and white.

Even with being slightly tipsy (from pregaming vodka and the parties) and horny, you somehow made it successfully through the maze of rooms… with a lot of intermissions for fumbling in dark corners.

All Hallow’s Eve concluded with you carrying your escape room certificate back to Quinn’s apartment where you probably kept Tara and Sam up for the rest of the night.

ETHAN LANDRY:

The first time that you met Ethan was on Halloween night, even if the day fell on a weekday there were still parties raging in and around Blackmore.

Of course you had seen him around campus because you knew Chad from the random times he had asked you to tutor him in the mandatory chemistry course you both had to take but you never actually got to talk to him.

Decked out in your Carrie costume you were drinking cherry schnapps (not wanting to get too drunk) in one of the many corners that the frat house had.

Your friends were either busy dancing or were flirting incredibly badly since they were drinking wayyy more than you were.

You had been so focused on the red liquid in your cup that you didn’t realize that someone had joined you until you nearly jumped at the sight of a rather cute boy in a cardboard knight costume.

Ethan had stuttered out that this was a dare and that he was sorry to interrupt your night but you only laughed and stayed talking to him for basically the remainder of the party.

You were even able to crack his shy facade and get him to dance with you in the corner when your respective favorite songs came on.

Halloween night ended with a promise for more and a phone number after you gave him a soft kiss, tinged with cherry.

hehe those were fun to write - i'll definitely be doing more in the future.

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onyourowndaisymae · 1 year

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Yoo I have two request which I’ll send the other one separately but I am in an ANGSTY mood rn sooo yah also been binging ur headcanons and stuffs and I just love the way you write ?? It’s so entertaining lol

AnywY the actual request: can you write like a one shot or headcanons if you prefer of mc who is struggling after the belphie incident ?? Like they feel like they’ve mostly forgiven him and can act normally around him and they’re friends and take naps together but sometimes the flash back just HITS THEM and they have nightmares and panic attacks that can be so bad sometimes someone needs to get Simeon to calm them down. Maybe something of how the brothers react/treat mc and belphie? Idk I’m just thirsting for like MEGA ANGST rn bc my dad made me cry little bit lmao 😭

it comes at night

hello anon! i'm terribly sorry you're in such an angsty mood, though i thank you for all the love-- and for sending this request right as these ideas were on the front of my mind. it genuinely makes me so happy to see people enjoying my work, and it makes all the writer's block and such worth it. i cannot express enough how much i love seeing all the comments, reblogs, etc. as people engage with my work.

anyways. i'm not sure how i feel about this piece, especially with how LONG it ended up being, but maybe that's just my mushy brain talking after looking at it too long. regardless-- i hope you enjoy (well, y'know, in like a sad and angsty way).

synopsis: you thought you would be able to move on like all the others. your body was healed, your anxiety tucked neatly behind a mental wall built to keep you safe. yet something in you was stuck. you couldn't just move on. you were trapped in a battle between your friendship with belphegor and the fear gnawing at your brain as you remembered what exactly he did to you. when the dam finally breaks, your whole brain floods with terror, until you're swept away with it. nobody can save you now.

genre: angst, no happy end, just a big ol spoonful of sadness

word count: ~3.1k

content warnings: chapter 16 spoilers, graphic(?) discussions of death, depictions of panic attacks, nightmares, mc progressively getting worse from fear + lack of sleep

it's funny how time works.

you'd been around your fair share of years. you’d grown, you’d changed, you’d spent your entire life looking toward the future you had planned. then you, a mere human, were yanked into an unfamiliar world. you spent an entire year in the devildom– a year that simultaneously dragged on and flew by– and came out the other side a new person. a single year in the devildom has changed you more than the human realm has your entire life. time was a mischievous thing, always leaving you chasing behind in a fruitless pursuit of something you’ll never quite understand.

but, she also brings blessings with her. they say that time heals all wounds. you've always agreed with that sentiment. scraped knees and adolescent broken hearts are swept away with the passing days, trailing further and further behind you until one day you forget to look back and remember them. the pain scribbled down on diary pages or cried into pillow cases no longer stings like a fresh burn. these things are nothing but scars now. time has a special way of patching you up, of rubbing your back until the tears clear up and you can finally see again. that is how it's always been.

where is time when you need it?

she hasn't quite abandoned you, this much is true. cuts and bruises heal over the passing days. your hair and nails still grow. your body still changes, slowly but surely, marching onwards week after week. yet your mind is trapped in stasis. you struggle to break free, but at times the rot consumes you whole, until you’re crying under the covers and begging from respite from the memories.

on the worst nights, you find yourself in the attic again, watching the door between you and belphegor swing open. you watch yourself march towards death.

you can still feel his hands around your neck, digging his claws into your fragile human skin like you're made of sand. the scent of blood-- your own blood, on the floors, on the walls, leaking from your torso and staining your clothes a permanent maroon-- still clings to the inside of your nose. even your wildest dreams could not erase the sight of his smug grin, the way his eyes lit up looking at your battered body.

no one person should have to carry the weight of realizing they're going to die. that's what you thought about when your body hit the bottom of the stairs, when belphegor tossed you down from the attic with a harsh laugh and punted your limp body into the entrance hall. you thought about how unfair this all was. you were just trying to help. you thought you were doing the right thing.

one of the worst parts of your untimely demise was watching the others react. the voices pool together in your head, like the colors of the rainbow twisting together on the surface of an oil spill. asmo's panicked shriek blends into satan's angry shouts, desperate to understand what's going on. lucifer's yelling almost drowns out the fearful cries coming from levi, held back by a very silent beel.

but above all of that, you remember mammon. your first man, the first demon who took a chance on the defenseless little human, rushing to your side and gathering you in his arms like you were about to break. his hand on the side of your face, the tears streaming down his face, the shaky, desperate voice assuring you that you'll be okay and begging you to hang on, okay? please don't leave me. you can't remember if he was shaking or if it was your body's last ditch effort to stay conscious-- maybe both. your trembling fingers intertwined with his. words came out of your mouth, and you're not sure what exactly you said, but he only cried harder in response.

and then, as your eyes shut for the final time, you woke at the bottom of the attic stairs. you had cheated death.

your price? you had to carry the memories.

the world kept spinning. days passed in the devildom. you returned to school, kept on top of your homework, spent your days in the house of lamentation alongside the seven demon brothers. you even got to know belphegor as he navigated his return home. he quickly grew fond of you. that, in and of itself, was jarring. but you returned each and every smile with one of your own. his actions were rooted in his own grief for his sister, you knew, and for that you could not fault him. you helped him repair the severed relationships between him and his elder siblings, stitching the family back together like a prized quilt until the seams of betrayal were sufficiently hidden.

time is a traitorous bitch. why did she choose now to leave your wounds bare and bleeding?

everyone moved on but you. everyone got to wake up in the mornings without a nagging anxiety holding them back. the others could hang out with belphegor day in and day out without a growing feeling of dread popping up when you think you're safe.

he killed you. he was grieving. your blood drenched the entryway floors as he laughed. he has grown. you watched the light leave mammon's eyes as you slipped away. belphie has been nothing but kind to you since that day. you fucking died.

you wish your mind could pick a side. did you forgive him, or did you resent him? was he your friend, or your killer? these answers evaded you in the dead of night as you struggled to sleep again. it was becoming more common for you to lose hours of rest to these nagging fears. who are you? are you even you anymore? did the switch in timelines scatter your atoms across countless universes, leaving the you that looks back at you in the mirror nothing more than a hollow shell?

you thought that you could keep your mind on a tight leash, keep your cards close to your chest as you continued to live with the brothers. you were wrong.

the first meltdown came during a nap with belphie. you had grown to trust him-- you thought you trusted him-- enough to sleep around him. he'd coax you every so often into an afternoon nap. always in the light of day, always your choice. and for many afternoons, you were perfectly content with this arrangement. belphie was warm and cuddly, a perfect companion for a lazy afternoon. he had this way of making you feel safe as you slept-- the nightmares couldn't come when he was snuggled up next to you, when you were sure his actions were ones of affection and not another trick to gain your trust.

one afternoon, while the sun was beginning to set, you stirred under the warmth of the blankets. the body next to yours lingered close, steady breaths lulling you back to dreamland. you could stay like this forever, you thought.

and then you felt it. the gentle graze of a familiar cow tail against your skin.

something inside of you, a dam you didn't even know was there, snapped. a hot flash of panic rose up your throat as your whole body jerked away from the feeling. your eyes shot open and you found yourself in the last place you needed to be right now: the attic. you pulled yourself out of bed before your brain could catch up. colors flashed across your vision as a consequence. you whipped around, disoriented and upset, and spotted a sleeping belphie in the bed where you once were.

a sleeping, demon belphie.

the familiar curve of his horns made your throat spasm as you tried to breathe. the colors flashed in your vision again-- oh god, what a terrible time to be left defenseless-- as your brain tried to drag you back to that day. you could practically see his face shift from relief to malicious, insidious joy as he began to attack you.

"hehe... does it hurt? finding it hard to breathe? i'm sure it must be very unpleasant."

please. please no.

" i have to say, seeing a human face twisted in pain like this... why, it's so much fun that i can barely stand it! i... i can't contain the laughter!"

you weren't quite sure when you hit the ground, but it was loud enough to wake belphegor from his slumber. he peeled his body off the mattress, slow and dazed, as he looked for you.

"mc? what're you... what's going on?"

please don't. this can't be happening.

your lungs collapsed from the weight of your own panic. you gasped-- once, twice, as your vision went in and out. were you bleeding? your hand loosely brushed at the front of your clothes, but couldn't process whether that was blood or your vivid imagination. were you even breathing? your head felt light and heavy at the same time. the wires in your brain were all crossed, sending both resuscitation and shutdown signals to each part of your body. this feeling... this was too familiar.

were you dying?

"mc, what's going on?"

you came face to face with belphegor. your friend, your killer. the demon who had lured you up to this very attic to kill you, now gripping your shoulders as interrogated you inches from your face.

you screamed. you screamed until your brain shut off completely, leaving you in an inky pit of darkness as your consciousness slipped away.

the house was in disarray for several days. apparently, lucifer came in shortly after you passed out, mammon at his heels, to save the day. you woke up later in his bed, the room cold and empty, with a throbbing head and a tear stained pillow. you stumbled out into his office to find him at his desk, lost in some paperwork like always. the solemn look he gave you as your eyes met told you everything you needed to know.

from this day forth, your fear was now your constant companion.

nobody in the house of lamentation knew how to move forward. not you, not the brothers, not the widening gap growing between you all with each passing day spent in emotional limbo. finally, lucifer called everyone to a family meeting where, over the course of an hour or two, everyone came to an agreement to acknowledge what had happened and why, promised to be mindful of this trauma that you're carrying, and move forward like you requested.

silent days slowly but surely filled back up with laughter again. the brothers came back to your side at their own pace-- asmo first, within a matter of hours, then mammon shortly after, then the others in the following days.

belphegor was the last to come around. his silence spoke volumes about his guilt. he had no clue how to comfort you. he'd do anything to repent for his actions. yet that was the way that life worked, didn't it? some actions simply cannot be undone.

but you didn't let that stop you. despite the panic that closed your throat every time you saw him for the next month, you slowly earned his friendship again. you assured him that the attic incident was a one time thing, the remnants of a lost nightmare blending into your consciousness as you awoke.

until it wasn't a one time thing.

the nightmares crept up on you. the first one happened, of course, that same night, as you thrashed and wept into lucifer's pillows. then a week later, another. a week and a half after that, another. the frequency eventually became higher and higher, until you started planning your sleep schedule (or lack thereof) around your new insomniac tendencies. but even you couldn't manage to stay awake forever.

on a bad night, you'd wake up in tears, crying weakly to yourself as you tried to coax yourself back to bed. on worse nights, you'd shoot up out of bed, limbs tingling in fear, opting to spend the rest of the night in the common room until the others woke for the day. on the worst night, you finally broke. you shattered worse than you could have imagined.

you finally collapsed into bed, body shutting down after a three days of minimal sleep. you were starting to get shaky from the lack of rest, and your lack of appetite was upsetting the others. you crawled under the covers and let your brain slip out of your hands and off to dreamland.

what a fool you were to think you'd get by without nightmares.

visions of demonic teeth tearing at your flesh filled your head. you tried to run away, tried desperately to wake yourself up, but their claws sunk into your flesh. the pain was vivid, was real. memories of your death lived underneath your skin, ready to resurface in the dark of night when there was no escape. you fought back as best you could, kicking and screaming and trying to run, but you were no match for the supernatural strength of your demons. you eventually gave in, an act of learned helplessness, and surrendered yourself to your worst nightmares.

you woke up choking on your own tears. heaving, gasping breaths tried to save you, mixing with coughs as your body struggled to hang on. the tears finally gave way to the memories-- hot blood dripping from your torso, screaming faces begging you to stay, your head going fuzzy as your vision followed--and your screams escaped without a fight.

a mixed cacophony of voices came flooding in the room. you'd be touched by the gesture, seeking comfort in the arms of your dearest friends, if your brain hadn't reminded you that they were demons as well. nightmarish beasts with fangs and claws, predators built to rip your soft flesh from your bones and leave you to die like roadkill.

you felt a hand on your shoulder. who's was it? you could not tell. your first and only instinct was to scream for mercy, hot tears streaming down your face as mammon's hurt expression moved back out of your line of sight. your chest heaved with effort. it felt like your whole body was caving in on itself. you didn't even realize you were shaking as you curled your body into a ball. your side hit the mattress with a pathetic thud and you wept, bitter and fearful, as a panic attack kept you trapped in its grip.

you don't know how long you stayed curled up like that, wordless cries echoing from your room and into the hallway, but eventually the sound of approaching footsteps caught enough of your attention to forget the panic, even if just for a moment.

"hey, it's okay," a familiar, comforting voice approached, cutting through the fear like a moonlight on a stormy night. "mc, it's me, it's simeon. it's going to be okay."

you felt the bed shift under the weight of someone sitting down, and you blindly threw your body at the person before checking to see if it was really him. it took you a few moments to raise your head, and when you did, you saw him: simeon, your angel, blue eyes full of worry as he met your gaze.

you cried in his arms until you fell into a fitful, dreamless sleep.

the next morning was miserable, to say the least. breakfast was tense. they all watched you like a hawk, like you were a powder keg about to explode with one wrong move. you couldn't blame them. you were afraid of your own emotions, and on some level, you were afraid of them. your trauma was making you afraid of the very people you cared about the most. these brothers had welcomed you into their home, took care of you as you adjusted to life in the devildom, and yet you couldn't hold eye contact without breaking in to a cold sweat.

the only person who did not watch you was belphegor. he was nowhere to be found during breakfast, nor dinner, nor breakfast the following day. you tried to seek him out, but somehow the avatar of sloth had become a skilled sneak in his silence.

you finally caught him alone on day four of radio silence. you both had stayed home without realizing the other had also skipped school that day-- you, from the lack of sleep eating at your brain, and belphegor, with his usual routine of missing class to nap at the house of lamentation. he was curled up on the couch in the common room, basking in the warmth of the fireplace in his slumber. you decided to wait for him to wake up. you sat down on the couch opposite of the one where he rested and watched him, quietly, like he'd disappear if you dared to blink.

creepy? yes. but your brain was long ruined by sleep deprivation and gnawing anxiety to worry about such trivial things.

when he finally stirred, you gently called belphegor's name. he took a moment to finally look at the source of the voice, but when he did, his body froze as the two of you made eye contact. a few moments passed in silence. finally, he sat up and began to make a move to leave.

"wait."

he stopped, but his gaze did not meet yours. you rose from your seat and joined him on the couch. the youngest pulled his legs in, twisting his body into a defensive little ball, and countered your next sentence before you could even open your mouth.

"you shouldn't be here with me."

"i think i'm old enough to make decisions for myself."

he shifted uncomfortably in the silence. you spoke again.

"i miss you. and i'm sorry."

he scoffed to himself and stared at the fireplace. "don't know why you think you should be apologizing to me. i'm the one that's the problem."

"you're not a problem, belphie. i never meant to make you feel like one."

every hair on your body stood on end. your hands trembled against your wishes, so you sat on them to stay focused. you had to do this. you had to keep moving forward.

"i hurt you, mc. you're afraid i'm going to do it again."

you sighed-- it came out more shaky than you would have liked-- and looked down. how had it come to this? how had someone you'd grown to hold so dear become a stranger again?

"i don't want to stop being friends. i don't like when you avoid me."

"you still get nightmares, don't you?"

you pause. his icy gaze on the side of your head sent you into a cold sweat.

you smiled-- it felt more like a grimace, personally-- and prayed it didn't come across insincere. your fingers carefully intertwined with his. he met your gaze. you were thankful he couldn't see the way your chest tightened when you made eye contact.

"i'm okay, belphie," you lied.

this fear was going to be the death of you.

#i cannot tell if this is good or not i've looked at it for hours #ask answer #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me writing #obey me fanfic #obey me angst #obey me brothers #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me chapter 16 spoilers #otome

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pearlparty · 2 years

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Mundanity: An October Sunday Morning

Austin x Reader

Summary: A little peak into a brief moment of calm on a Sunday where Austin romanticizes his life with his favorite girl and sensually puts lotion on her legs to give him an edge in their little game of teasing.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, brief descriptions of memories of sex (not graphic), brief strong language, teasing, Austin is a simp lord, finger guns (yes this is a warning), sweater paws, they’re so in love it’s disgusting

Word Count: 5k

Note: This is in 3rd person because it’s entirely from Austin’s POV because I love to write men who are such simps, BUT it’s technically a reader fic. Also, the reader’s descriptions are super vague, but I did briefly mention cellulite and stretch marks because a lot of people have them and they’re not size exclusive. Also, I’m debating making this a kind of series/collection where it’s just little snapshots of the little mundane and domestic things in life can be made special. And it wouldn’t be for just these two since I’d love to write for his other characters and stuff. So lmk if you’d like to see that.

Sunday mornings were a contented sigh breathed after a long and arduous week. Tranquility seemed to seep into the apartment on the sunbeams that peaked through the blinds and bounced off the cream walls in the master bedroom. The houseplant in the corner next to the nightstand welcomed the light, stretching towards the window with open arms, eager to start the new day with a dose of sunshine. A soft birdsong gently coaxed the city from its slumber, almost as though its singer was saying, “A new day has begun. Relax and rise with the sun--take your time, darling.”

Austin loved these moments. Their serenity became an anticipated standstill in his hectic life, a chance to just… exist. Maybe savor the little mundane moments with the love of his life on the other side of his bed.

No alarm clock, no pressing appointments. Just greeting the day with a lazy smile as his eyes slowly opened. Everything always seemed to be moving so fast that taking time to breathe out his dreams and lay with his thoughts for a while became a necessity to wind down from the week’s stress.

He’d turn over slowly and peek at the breathtaking girl lying next to him. He was never in a rush to take her in. Even in her sleeping state—face squished against her pillow, wild hair, and the small line of drool coming from her mouth—all he wanted to do was bask in her presence. He loved her soft snores or the way that she’d breathe out a peaceful moan and nuzzle into her pillow when repositioning in the morning, like her body was begging, “just five more minutes, please.”

Sometimes, he’d still be half asleep and reach out to hold her hand, leisurely wrapping his fingers around her tiny fist in a loose grip. Just enough contact to let her know that he was there, but not enough to wake her up. Usually, she’d hold his hand, too, and press a sleepy kiss to his thumb as they both fell back asleep in the early hours of the morning.

Spooning all night wasn’t as comfortable as it had been in the honeymoon phase. Romance is not always practical, no matter what the storybooks say. It left Austin waking up with pain tingling in a dead limb, or their combined body heat under the sheets and comforter woke her in the middle of the night drenched in sweat.

Most nights started out with their arms around each other to enjoy each other’s warmth, breaths slowing, heart beats syncing, and just before succumbing to the pull of sleep, one would press a kiss to the other before letting go, still close enough to brush against each other if they wanted. Neither thought poorly of the other because of it--sleep’s a selfish thing and it can’t be helped that always sleeping on top of another person is slightly uncomfortable.

Besides, little touches like entwining their pinkies or running fingers over shoulders almost meant more because, even under the spell of dreams, their souls always found a way to connect. It was like nothing would keep them apart.

This soft morning, however, Austin kept his hands firmly planted under his pillow and his stomach pressed to the mattress as he looked her over. Savoring the way the mellow light caressed her features, and cherishing the way her scent clung to his skin soothed his appetite for contentment more than a simple touch ever could. The dark gray sheets still tangled around her bare form, light fabric kissing her skin in the cool morning air creeping in through the ajar window across the room. He could trace each and every curve of her body with his fingers if he wanted to reach out and touch her; perhaps he’d allow himself to and confirm that she really was lying in their bed and not a dream--a dream he feared he could wake from at any moment. She was an angel gracing him with her presence, and if he dared indulge his selfish desires and graze her cheek with his hand, she might disappear, ascend back to the holier plane.

Memories of their firsts, their most recents, and everything in between swirled around his brain. Heat crawled up his face, igniting a light blush on his cheeks as he recalled the night before. Flashes of hastened kisses, eager hands, and moans of praise flitted through his mind. Oh, how he wanted to wake his love, remind her of his affections; she had him completely bewitched, willing to do anything and everything to make her happy.

Perhaps later. Now, he’d let his angel sleep.

He pushed his body to his elbow and leaned toward her. His lips slowly, gently, grazed over her hairline. “I love you,” he whispered. He lingered a second too long, too eager to touch her soft skin; she let out an untroubled sigh, rolling into his touch. He couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not, but a smile crept to his face nonetheless. Maybe he’d just kickstarted her journey back to reality from her dreams.

After loosening the grip of the sheets around his bare legs, he rose from the bed, careful not to jostle the mattress and disturb her. He padded over to the attached bathroom and the cold marbled floor tile sent a brief shock up his spine at the stark contrast to the warmth in his bed. Running a hand through his wild curls, Austin paused to take a look at himself in the mirror after he turned on the shower. A chuckle rumbled in his throat as his eyes wandered over the small red love bites littering his collarbones and neck, not regretting a single one. Sure, he’d probably have to wear a sweater to avoid the endless teasing that his family would inevitably dish out at dinner tonight, but he didn’t mind having the little reminders on his chest. They might as well have been little I Love You’s tattooed to his skin.

He’d already showered and wrapped a towel around his waist by the time she woke. He could see his angel’s eyes idly blinking open as he flipped on the light in their shared large walk-in closet adjacent to the steamed-up bathroom. Austin’s tall dresser sat at the back with a variety of his toiletries--deodorant, cologne, jewelry, etc.--sitting on top.

Despite having an only slightly smaller array of clothes in his wardrobe, he’d opted for the right side of the closet as it had fewer racks and less shelf space so she could have more room for her things even if some of the space was left barren. He’d joked that it was just an excuse to spoil her with a shopping spree, and she laughingly insisted that she didn’t need him to buy her any more clothes because 1) she could afford it herself, and 2) she didn’t need more items in her wardrobe.

He’d ended up doing it anyway. What? He loved spoiling her! Besides, he loved the way she looked in baby blue, and her wardrobe had frighteningly little of that color, so he just had to rectify that. And what’s a baby blue wrap dress without a pair of strappy heels and some pretty lingerie to match underneath?

The light breeze from the window cooled his wet skin, the water droplets on his shoulders stealing his body heat suddenly sending chills down his spine in a gentle reminder that autumn was in the air.

He could hear the blankets shift in the bedroom as she stretched her rested muscles. The yawn she let out in the master echoed off the hardwood floors. He busied himself putting on a pair of black boxers before throwing his towel over the open closet door so it could dry.

Just as he reached for his deodorant, a soft pair of lips slowly caressed his shoulder, a warm contrast to the chilled droplets dripping down his shoulder blades. The same smile from earlier returned to his face when her small hands wrapped around his bicep and opposite shoulder as she peppered his muscles with gentle kisses.

“Mornin’, baby,” he rasped, pleased with her greeting. He loved the feeling of her lips on his skin. Her hands slid down his back and slowly snaked around his bare waist, engulfing him in her loving embrace. Austin could feel the soft silky fabric of her robe pressed into his body, and when he looked down, sure enough, the flowy sleeves were covering her forearms. Dammit. He’d thought that she’d get up in the nakedness she’d slept in and give him more of a show this morning. His digits wound around her wrist near his belly button, his thumb rubbing back and forth over the delicate flesh.

“Mornin’,” she hummed.

“Sleep okay?” he asked, but he already knew the answer. She was worn out by the time they finally slept in their bed--he’d made damned sure of that. He could picture the heat rising in her cheeks as she tried to hide her small smile.

“Mmm mhm,” she sighed. She wasn’t fully coherent yet; it always took her a while to rouse her faculties completely. Her hands untangled from his as she pulled away a little, allowing her fingers to graze his sides and tease the waistband of his boxers. He craned his neck to get a better look at her over his shoulder, meeting her half lidded gaze.

“Yeah, slept real good,” she added, the sleep lining her voice gradually sloughing off with each word. The corner of her mouth rose to a half smile and he couldn’t determine if it was from contentment or mischief.

Her soft touches to his back suddenly traveled lower until she pinched his ass with a chuckle.

“Hey!” he yelped, not missing her cheeky smirk when he turned to her with a grin. Definitely mischief in her eyes, then. What was she up to this morning?

He snatched her small figure into his arms, pressing her closely to his chest with his hands firmly around her waist, eyes raking over her robe clad form--the tie hung loosely on her hips, the purple silky fabric barely covering her breasts and convening just below her belly button.

“Watch it, young lady,” he playfully chastised. Her head cocked to the side, eyebrow quirked up, and before he knew it her hands were on his butt again with a gentle squeeze before settling at the bottom of his spine. That brought a full laugh to his chest. “Is that all I am to you? A piece of ass?”

“Mmm, yeah,” she giggled. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes and plant a kiss on her nose. Contentment swelled in his chest--nothing could possibly ruin this moment, ass objectification and all. His heart made a silent plea to the universe: please stop time and let us freeze this moment forever. Let us frame it and put it on our mantle and revisit on cold nights and melancholy mornings. All of the mundanity of waking up and getting ready together… it pleased him to no end, gifted from the gods. He took a mental screenshot of it all: the lighting, the cool air, the soft silk beneath his fingertips, her mussed hair, the way her eyes sparkled with a little sleep lingering in the corners, and her soft kissable lips smiling up at him.

Her hand trailed lightly across his side and stomach before softly caressing the marks she’d left last night, clearly proud of her handiwork--or would it be mouth-iwork? A quiet sigh left his lips as she delicately pressed an agonizingly unhurried kiss to a love bite on his clavicle. She maintained her pace and made her way up to plant another one to his pulse. His grip on her hips tightened marginally, but she seemed to take notice and it only spurred her on.

He sucked in a breath, eyes closing to better focus on her touch. She raised up on her toes to press one more to his jawbone right below his ear, her hand settling at the base of his throat just above his collarbones. It was a gentle touch, not an ounce of pressure applied. To anyone else, her hand rested there to provide balance while on her tiptoes, but he knew better. It was heavenly. A low hum reverberated in his chest at the contact.

Yes, please, keep going, darlin’.

Her satin lips ghosted along his jawline, stopping just short of his own mouth. His eyes fluttered open. Her other hand made its way from his back to his face at a leisurely pace before her thumb grazed over his supple lower lip and lightly gripped his chin. She pulled him closer to her ever so slightly, and he prepared to meet her halfway with a kiss when she suddenly halted his advances with a firm, albeit gentle, push at the base of his neck.

“Mm. I’m gonna go take a shower,” her eyes shot down to his lips, her sensual body language contradicting the nonchalance in her voice as though she wasn’t just barely feeling him up and working him into a tizzy.

His sweet, innocent little angel had swapped out her harp and halo for a pitchfork and horns.

Oh, so we’re teasing now, huh? She dropped back down to her regular height, retracting her hands and leaving Austin hanging. “I feel positively filthy after last night.” Her salacious tone dripped over him like honey, and he chewed on his lip.

Yeah, she definitely wasn’t wearing her halo now. That devilish look told him everything he needed to know: she wanted to ditch the innocence and wings and do a little sinning.

“Filthy, huh?” he shot back, just as insinuating. She threw him a wink when she started strutting away. Before she could get too far, he brought his hand down and gave her ass a quick swat, sending a smirk of his own in her direction. She giggled at the contact as she sauntered out of the closet, aware of his eyes burning along her curves. Accentuating the sway in her delicious hips just a little more to keep his attention--she knew exactly how to drive him mad.

Her manicured fingers scraped down the door frame as she finally left his sight, but, like a show girl leaving the stage, she teased her audience by theatrically tossing her robe in front of the closet door, leaving everything to his raunchy imagination.

Little devil. He shook his head and chewed on his cheek with a chuckle. They both loved the game, the chase, and light teasing had quickly become one of their favorite ways to keep each other on their toes. They loved to sprinkle it between mundane tasks. One moment would be completely innocent, and then sexually charged for a split second before settling back to normal. It wasn’t so much that they’d dismiss the moment as it was that neither would openly acknowledge it--there’d be plenty of time for that later. The build-up was part of the fun.

The low roar of the water cascading from the showerhead and hitting the tiled floor pulled him from his thoughts and signaled him to actually get ready for the day. He settled on a navy jumper over a white tee and jeans to accommodate the October weather. The sleeves were a little long on him, which was mildly surprising considering his long lanky limbs, but he didn’t mind. The closely knit fabric draped comfortably over his arms in a loose fit that made it feel homier and more autumnal, even if they did engulf his palms. His fingers were long enough, anyway, that it didn’t really cause a problem for him.

He ran a hand through his hair as he padded into the bathroom again where he could hear a light melody coming from the shower. She often hummed subconsciously when completing simple mindless tasks.

Ah, he thought, ‘must be a hair-washing and leg-shaving day.

She continued her light humming as he brushed his teeth, leaning into the white countertop as he hovered over the sink. He recognized the tune, but couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Where had he heard it before? His brow furrowed as he tried to place it, following the melody’s notes and beat with his head. Suddenly, it dawned on him.

“Are you singing the song from the Chick Fil A commercials?” he laughed out, minty suds still frothing on his tongue. Her musical giggle echoed off the tile and sent a spark of warmth to his chest.

“It’s stuck in my head!” she confirmed before wordlessly continuing the same series of notes and pauses. He spits and rinses the white bubbles from his toothbrush.

“I thought the cottage cheese one was your favorite,” he teased, recalling the time he’d caught her absentmindedly singing it to herself in the bread aisle at the store.

Without hesitation, she proceeded to belt the jingle.

“Only Daisy’s Cottage Cheese will do!” she sang the phrase twice, and he couldn’t hold back his snicker. “Satisfying and fresh, so creamy and delish!”

“Noooooo!” he dramatically lamented, cheeks hurting from his grin, as he grabbed the mousse from the drawer to style his hair--it’s so unruly when he doesn’t put product in it.

“It’s gonna be stuck in my head all day now!” he jested as he spread the mousse on his hands.

Even with the frosted shower door obscuring her naked form, he knew she was doing a little dance as she got to the last line, drawing out the last note in a satisfying finish with another light giggle as he raked the product through his curls. “Only Daisy’s Cottage Cheese!”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, ya know that?” he chuckled again.

“Oh, c’mon you love it!”

“Hm. Suuuurrrreeee.”

Truth is, he did. Not the jingles--he hated that they’d always pop into his head at the most inconvenient times and he wouldn’t be able to get rid of them for hours. But he loved how she teased him and made him laugh. He loved listening to her voice, even if it wasn’t always perfectly on-key with the songs. He loved laughing with her. She really was his best friend, and if that meant enduring a few annoying jingles, then so be it. Not that he’d tell her that--she’d never let him hear the end of it. Then again, knowing him, he’d probably love that, too.

God, he was so whipped.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of them as he manipulated his wavy locks to look presentable, allowing a couple stray strands to coil and fall loose on his forehead in a Superman curl. After wiping his fingers of the product, he pulled his hand over his chin and the faint goatee he’d been sporting over the past couple days. Was it time for a shave? It was getting a little longer than he normally kept it, but he found that the look was, if you’ll pardon the pun, growing on him. He grabbed his electric razor from the drawer and ran it over the hair, deciding it best to trim it just a little to a short manageable stubble. He pulled back to admire his work.

Yeah, he looked good. A bit of pride inflated his ego--more than it probably should have, but he’d never admit it. Maybe it was just because he woke up happy on a beautiful morning with his gorgeous girl and some light teasing after a night of mind-blowing sex. Who wouldn’t be on top of the world?

His finger guns shot himself in the mirror with a wink as he clicked his tongue.

Yeah, I still got it.

A snort sounded behind him, and he quickly dropped his hands as saw his lover stepping out of the shower with her hand covering her mouth to prevent her full laugh from escaping. He hadn’t even noticed her turn off the water and wrap the towel around her torso.

Oh, damn.

Ego: deflated.

Heat flooded his cheeks, crawling into his ears and setting them ablaze. Suddenly, his jumper almost felt a little too warm. There was no salvaging the situation. He’d been caught doing the most uncool thing a person could do, so he settled on sending her a sheepish grin and clasping his hands in front of him. Quite awkwardly.

“Oh my god,” she started, a laugh edging its way into her voice, “I can’t believe you just did that!” she giggled, shaking her head with a sweet sigh. “Oh, you’re absolutely adorable.” She quickly added the last part, eyes taking in his slowly relaxing stance.

“Yeah, I guess you can say I’m the epitome of cool.” He ran his hand over the nape of his now burning neck. Better to laugh it off with some sarcasm than to do nothing.

“Oh definitely,” she affirmed as she turned away, passing gracefully into the closet and leaving him with his embarrassment.

He spared himself another tentative glance in the mirror, a quiet chuckle bubbling up his throat. He shrugged it off, taking a couple minutes to adjust his sweater and the gold necklace under it before heading back to the master bedroom.

He didn’t expect to lean on the doorframe or watch her for so long, but he’d become so enamored with the scene before him that he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

She sat on their bed, towel discarded and traded in for her underwear: a blue bra and panty set from their shopping spree. Droplets from her wet hair dusted her shoulders as she leaned over to grab her beige bottle of lotion, depositing a few pumps of it into her palm. She’d just spread it on her hands and began rubbing it over her forearms and shoulders when she made eye contact with him through her lashes.

“You gonna keep leering at me and leaning on the door like a slut, or is there something I can do for you?” she baited, a smirk lining her lips. The lightness in her tone let him know she didn’t mind--if anything, this was another way for her to goad him into some kind of trap where she’d leave him hanging again.

Not this time.

“No, but there’s something I can do for you,” he said casually, pulling his lips between his teeth as he stalked towards her, not breaking eye contact. Her hands stuttered their circular motions on her triceps. She raised her brows, expecting him to follow up his statement with some kind of action.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to the lotion. She furrowed her brow for a moment as her eyes flitted from the bottle, back to him, then down at her legs briefly before the realization hit her. She glanced up to meet his eyes as she nodded.

“Go ahead, Mr. Finger Guns.” He looked down and shook his head with a grin.

“I’m never gonna live that down, am I?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hm.”

He sank to his knees and settled to the floor at her feet, slowly dragging the back of his index finger up her shin and over knee as he reached for the lotion. He’d nearly put a dollop of the creamy stuff on his hands when--

“Oh hold on,” she said abruptly, reaching out to his wrists and tugging at the navy sleeves nearly swallowing his hands. “You’re going to get it all over your sweater!” Her nimble fingers folded the sleeves back once, twice into a neat cuff. The proper length a sleeve should be. “There.” She patted his wrists before setting hers back on the bed.

“Thank you, baby,” he murmured. His ocean eyes flicked up to hers momentarily for permission as he picked up the lotion again, and when she nodded, he put a few pumps on his hands before turning his attention to the work at hand.

Gingerly, he took her left ankle in his hand, spreading the moisturizer over the back of her freshly shaved calf, his fingers splaying over the skin and applying just enough pressure to spread the satiny salve and massage the muscle simultaneously.

He leaned forward with a feather light kiss to the inside of her knee before slipping his left hand over it toward her hip. Her breath hitched and he had to hold back a smirk. She wasn’t the only one who knew how to put on a show.

His right hand slid up the back of her leg as the other one guided her knee over his shoulder, the movement reminiscent of last night. He knew it and she knew it--he could tell by the nearly imperceptible shudder in her breath. His eyes fell shut on their own accord as he brushed his cheekbone up the soft flesh of her knee and inner thigh as his hands roamed the expanse of her skin.

He easily recalled her whiny pleas, the way she rolled her hips into his face and pulled his hair, and her taste on his tongue with his name falling from hers in a prayer. For a brief moment, he debated doing it all again: giving in to the sinful thoughts running rampant through his head and ending their little game earlier than expected.

But where’s the fun in that?

Instead, he languidly kissed his way down to her ankle and put a respectful distance between them. Clearing the sexually charged air for only a moment seemed necessary as he resupplied from the bottle and repeated the sensual process on her other leg.

Just as slow. Just as intimate.

When he reached her knee, he spared a glance up at his lover, hoping for some flash of pleasure to cross her features as she looked to the heavens in bliss, a smile, a sigh, a gasp--any morsel of praise that he could greedily drink down and guard close to his heart. Instead, he met her adoring gaze, which was just as delicious. His soft smile met hers. A tiny palm cupped his cheek, and again his eyes fell shut as he leaned into her soft touch, enjoying the way her thumb tenderly brushed over his skin.

He pressed his lips into the inside of her wrist with as much devotion and endearment he had in his old, romantic, smitten soul. I love you, he nuzzled each word into her skin, praying she could feel him branding the phrase into his lips and sealing it with a kiss. I love you, I love you, I love you.

His fingers continued their work kneading circles into the meat of her thigh, over the almost indiscernible hills and valleys that he didn’t know were cellulite, exploring the entirety of her skin. Despite knowing each and every curve by heart, he wanted to map every inch of her--each scar, stretch mark, mole, and freckle. Again and again and again.

Right up to the hem of her panties, that is.

He pulled away from her reluctantly, his hands trailing back down to her ankles before he went back to the bottle for just a little more. The way her eyes kept flicking over his kneeling form and how she subconsciously gnawed on her lower lip was not lost on him. Good, that meant he was doing his job right.

He held her gaze intently as he closed the distance between them, his fingers splaying their way over her hips--he took the moment to gently lean her back, teasing her with the close proximity of their lips, but keeping her pressed into the mattress. His touch traveled across her stomach, her waist, and her sides, his thumbs grazing just barely beneath the band of her bra. She squirmed underneath him, sliding her hands up his shoulders and to the nape of his neck, a fire sparking in her eyes.

Maybe he’d indulge a little after all.

Her lips were magnetic: beckoning him in slowly before colliding with a passion that left him unable to pull away. As they kissed with practiced perfection, he allowed his slick hand to graze over her decolletage for a fleeting moment. It found its home at the base of her neck, his long fingers wrapping around and his thumb gently pressing the remaining lotion on his hands into her skin with a back-and-forth motion.

She breathed a sigh into his mouth, chasing his lips a little as he pulled away. His tall body still hovered over her small one, trapping her between him and the bed. A small smile graced her mouth, her eyes scanning over his face. Happy, content.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asked quietly, still stroking the skin on her neck.

“Just you.” She brought her hand up to his hair, threading her digits through the curls in a loose hold. “Why? You thinking about something, too?”

He breathed out a laugh. “You really wanna know?” his voice dipped lower, almost a whisper, throwing in just a little of the southern drawl he knew she loved. “You sure?”

Her eyes flitted to his lips again as she chewed on her lower lip. He lowered himself down to her ear achingly slow. He could feel her chest rise and fall a little faster, each breath just a little shallower than the last. He had her right where he wanted her.

“Only Daisy’s Cottage Cheese will do!”

She rolled her eyes and playfully scoffed, “Oh, fuck off!”

“I told you it was going to get stuck in my head!” he laughed as he stood up, pulling her with him. He permitted himself another moment of soaking up her presence, tangling their fingers together and kissing her knuckles.

A blush crept into her cheeks and she bashfully avoided his adoring eyes by fiddling with his makeshift cuffs. She pulled her hands free of his and unfolded his sleeves, allowing the fabric to fall loosely around his hands again.

“I like it like this. It’s just…” she met his gaze again, her hand pressing gently into his chest and playing with his loose collar. “It’s adorable.”

That signature smirk spread on her mouth when she spoke again. “Plus, it’s long enough to keep you from doing anymore finger guns.”

“It was one time!”

#austin butler #austin butler elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis movie #austin elvis imagine #baz luhrmann elvis #elvis presley #elvis film #i can relate #elvis #austin butler fic #austin butler blurb #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fanfic #austinrobertbutler #austin butler gif #mundanity: an October Sunday morning

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mattulrichskeetlillard · 2 months

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Hello! Welcome to my Stuilly Blog!

This is a master list of some of my fav stuilly fics I've written ((some of these are +18 nsfw mdni check the desc!! Be safe everyone))

This is sort of an intoduction to me/my writing in this fandom. I have more fics I'm not posting, like incomplete works, wips, etc.

This blog in particular is just gonna be scream interactive. Feel free to say hi to me! Give me prompts or headcanons you'd like to see in a fic and I'll do my best. Have fun :D

Fractured

Stats:

Posted Jan. 10st

1.6k words

POV Billy Loomis [not first person, I never write first person (((she said; in first person lol)))]

Rated for Mature Audiences for: violence, graphic descriptions of animal death, animal gore

Desc: Set right after Billy's mom left, Billy knows he can't cope with his feelings in a healthy way and takes his best friend out hunting with him. It all falls to shit, and Stu is unexpectedly there for Billy just when he needs him the most.

My very first Stuilly fic ｡ﾟ(ﾟ＾Д＾ﾟ)ﾟ｡

Still holds a special place in my heart <3

ugh don't get me started

Stats:

Posted Jan. 15rd

1.5k words

POV Stuart Macher

Rated E for Everyone

Objectively Adorable

Desc: Stu rants to Billy about his day, Billy just lets him talk. It's a perfect lazy, cozy day

Zero angst, if you just want a warm fuzzy fic with Stu and Billy in love, that's exactly what this is

bro pull over let me kiss you on the lips

Status:

Posted Jan 21th

2.8k words

POV Billy Loomis

Rated Teen for mild language and general teenage bullshit like 'feelings' or whatever

Includes: Flustered!Billy Loomis with a crush. Ooh yummy

Desc: Billy gets his first car and kidnaps Stuart for an impromptu date. This better go well.

No notes, I just really like this one. Short and sweet

my love for you is blood soaked

Stat:

Posted three days after Mario Day [Mar 13st]

15.15k words

POV Stu Macher

Rated Nsfw for that one sex scene in the middle #BottomBillyxTopStu

Desc: Stu keeps getting notes from a secret admirer and with the choice between his emotionally constipated """secret""" boyfriend and his overly affectionate girlfriend, he's sure he knows who they're from. He's fucking wrong lol

Stu is a little obtuse but its for plot and its in a "naw Billy would never say this, its gotta be Tate" kind of way

Stu. Babe. That man is SO GAY for you its insane. Idk how he could have been more clear honestly

This one's just dumb fun, not meant to be taken seriously, I love it so much. I'm super proud of her

Thanks for checking my stuff out if you did, I'm probably working on a fic (always writing lol) but I have been known to take breaks from posting schedules to release a quick one-shot or something like that. Feel absolutelty free to leave me prompts or recs or something you'd want me to write, okay thank you bye

That's all folks!

#ao3 #stuilly #stu x billy #billy x stu #scream 1996 #scream art #stu macher #billy loomis #billy loomis x stu matcher #stu macher x billy loomis #writing #fics #scream musical #screamd #scream'd #scream fic

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alexsoenomel · 1 year

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Bloody Creature Poster Girl (Dean Winchester x Reader smut)

Summary: You are a special kind of demon and one day you ran into The Winchesters, not knowing you would end up in the sheets of the older brother Dean

Pairing: Dean x Succubus!Reader

Warnings: just mentions of murder, abuse, pedophiles, rapists and murderers (not too graphic) AND then at the end sexy times with Dean and by sexy times I mean oral (female receiving)

Word count: 5441

Note: Lost Girl is one of my comfort shows, so I decided to combine the elements from the show and write this (it’s an old one) Also the tittle is a name of the song by one of my favorite bands In This Moment . Listen to the song HERE Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)

YOUR POV

Ever since I killed my boyfriend 5 years ago I’ve been on the road; occasionally skipping town, crashing in rusty motel rooms and eating junk food. I was wanted for a murder I didn’t mean to commit. That sounds silly but it was true. I was 17 and in love, he was my first. We decided to go and watch the stars one night but we all know what that meant. I ended up losing my virginity to him and finally killing him. I didn’t know how I did it though. While I was on top of him I suddenly had a strange urge, I got hungry....I ignored it until it was gone...and he was dead. I will remember his face forever, pale as snow with a huge creepy smile on his face. I ran back home as fast as I could, I was terrified I didn’t know what to do or say but when cops came to my house and my mum let them in I knew what I needed to do...run. I got some clean clothes in a bag and all of my saved up money I had at the moment, my car keys and disappeared through the window of my room; not leaving a message for my mum, without a goodbye. It was killing me to know she was probably worried sick but I couldn’t go back, I will bring her only trouble. After that it took me a couple of days to find out how my boyfriend actually died, when the hunger came back. Apparently for whatever reason I craved sexual energy, I was hungry for it. That was when I realized I wasn’t exactly 100% human; hell I wasn’t human at all. Someone found me while I was hiding, a woman, she was exactly like me. Her name was Jane and she was my mother. I didn’t believe her at first at all, I didn’t believe anyone at that time but when she told me I have a birth mark near my bellybutton and how I was allergic to strawberries...oh I fucking believed her. She said she heard about Kyle in the papers and that’s how she managed to track me. Then she told me a story how falling in love with a wrong guy brought her demise. The guy, my dad was like us, but much stronger and violent. One day he reached his breaking point when my mum was feeding on a guy who was a registered sex offender. He got so jealous and tried to kill her and me. Apparently, it was his way of keeping us “close” to his heart forever. My mother barely made it out alive. She decided it was too dangerous for me to be in her care, because he was after her and wasn’t going to stop, so she left me on the porch of a woman I have known as mother since birth.

“What happened to dad?”

She told me she managed to cover her tracks for a while... “He thinks I’m in Miami on vacation.”

She finally told me what I have wanted to know since I killed Kyle - what I am.

“A succubus.” She said with a smile.

“A what?”

“A succubus, a demon that feeds on sexual energy of humans...and other beings.”

That hit me like a damn baseball bat. Me? A demon? IMPOSSIBLE. I have always thought that was stuff of fairytales, demons, angels and all...I was wrong?

“Why aren’t we in hell then?”

She smiled before answering the question. She had the most gorgeous smile I’ve ever seen. “We are not that kind of demons, darling. We roam free. Once we hit puberty our powers emerge, before that we’re just like humans. Real demons have their powers and abilities since birth.”

It finally made sense, everything. I finally knew who I was. But at the same time I had a lot of questions. How do I control my hunger? How do I not kill everyone in my path when I’m hungry? Kyle wasn’t the only one; I have left quite a blood trail before meeting my real mum. I couldn’t help it. It was like a primal urge to me; men or women...I didn’t care, when I was hungry I couldn’t stop myself. That was where mum came and saved the day. For the next two years I’ve been learning about my abilities and everything that came with being a succubus. She had rules. She was organized, meticulous and fucking amazing to say at least.

Rule number 1: DO NOT KILL INNOCENT PEOPLE.

“Your dad and I would feed on serial killers, rapists and pedophiles, you know, before he went crazy.”

She told me to hunt bad people for food. In every town in this damn country there ware bad people, you just had to find them.

Rule number 2: If you want to get food, use your seductive touch whenever it’s necessary.

I knew I was capable of doing that, that’s how I managed to survive while I was on the run; robbing stores with elegance and not paying for motel rooms. How? I just had to touch someone and seductively tell them what I want and boom. They would go under some sort of a trance. They were “in love” with me until the touch wears off.

Rule number 3: Never let the police know you exist, never leave a trail or something they could use to track you.

Rule number 4: If you get hurt in any way, feed, but don’t go all the way if you don’t want to kill the guy or the girl…unless it’s someone bad of course.

“And if you want to feed on a serial killer or a rapist by all means necessary do it, but...know they are usually creepy and freaking ugly.”

“Seriously?” I asked a little surprised. I did not know about the healing part. If I get hurt or sick I would usually just do whatever a normal human does…silly.

“What? That’s how we heal (Y/N).”

Rule number 5: Beware of the hunters.

“There are people who go out of their way and kill creatures like you and I. BE CAREFUL! Especially if you come across Sam and Dean Winchester, run.”

“But they are only humans, mum. What they can possibly do?”

“Trust me on Sam and Dean, (Y/N). They have done things you can’t even imagine. They are extremely dangerous.”

And then she proceeded to tell me how they killed Death itself, made ACTUAL ANGELS fall from the sky and killed demons like it was child’s splay, so I got the memo.

Those 5 rules helped her get by while running and hiding all these years. She then showed me how to control my hunger.

“You have to remember you’re not an animal, the hunger doesn’t control you; you control the hunger. So if you don’t want to kill the person that’s underneath or on top of you, start slow.”

It was easier said than done but with a little practice I managed to do it plus mum gave me some sort of syrup her friend doctor made to control the hunger. It worked. I also found out that if I wanted to feed I could just kiss the person which was a lot more practical if you ask me.

Everything seemed to be in the right place. I was happy travelling around the country with my mum, seeing places I have always wanted to see, doing what I wanted...until he found us. My dad found us. We didn’t know how, but he did and he ruined everything. He ruined my one chance in happiness. He was stronger than both of us. He came armed with a knife and I didn’t see it. He stabbed her right in the stomach, killing her slowly. Before she took her last breath she told me to run. I didn’t want to leave her, she made me. When I was holding her she touched my hand and made me do it. I don’t know how she did it, but she showed me how much she cared and loved me. This was pure motherly love. Through tears and anger I told her I loved her...and ran before he got a chance to hurt me. I’ve never seen that man ever again.

****

This brings us to now. Currently I’m in Lebanon, Kansas searching for my next meal. So far I have fed on one pedophile and two rapists in Kansas and Peter Scully was next on the menu. He was a serial killer that no one knew about. The police knew someone was out there killing innocent women for shits and giggles but they didn’t know who was doing it. Luckily I was faster than police and managed to identify the bad guy. I only managed to do that because he, in fact was a freaking policeman and I got lucky. When I charmed him with my touch hoping to tell me all about the case, he spilled the truth. He told me he needed to drink the girl’s blood because it makes his skin look healthier.... For a human, this dude was disgusting.

The plan was when he finished work at around 7pm to follow him to his house and suck him dry. That was exactly what I did. He wasn’t married didn’t have any children so this was an easy meal. I broke in with ease into his house and went to his living room. The bastard was packing to go on a hunt. I snuck behind his back and touched his shoulder.

“Hi, handsome.” I said as he turned around to face me. “Long time no see?”

“Hi! What-what are you doing here love?” He asked while looking at me like I was a goddess with a huge smile on his face. I loved the fact I could make anyone fall in love with me if I wanted to.

“Oh you know just stopped by to see you.” My hands were slowly going lower and lower towards him junk as he bit his lip not knowing what’s coming next. He probably thought I was going to sleep with him...oh, honey. “I remembered something.”

“And what’s that?” He asked. God his face made me want to vomit. He was in his 30’s and he looked like he still lived in his mum’s basement. Dirty brown hair, big glasses and teeth so yellow and crocked you would think it was corn. But he was a bad guy and I was hungry...

“I forgot to give a goodbye kiss back at the police station.” I said and kissed him. My tongue DID NOT enter his mouth as I started feeding. I could feel the energy as he was slowly losing his breath and I was getting stronger. When a Succubus feeds their eyes go blue as the energy enters their body in a form of a blue smoke. That blue smoke provided us with energy and strength, plus we heal to a degree. Overall it felt so good.

“Hey!” I suddenly heard a raspy deep voice of a man behind me.

I stopped draining the almost dead man as he collapsed on the floor. When I turned around I saw two GOURGOUS looking men with guns pointing at me. I put my hands up as my heart started beating faster. If I said I wasn’t scared for my life I would be lying. They weren’t wearing uniforms so they definitely weren’t cops. I had a feeling they were hunters.

“I can explain!” I said with hands still up. “Please don’t kill me.”

“Give us one good reason why we shouldn’t kill you?” The shorter one spoke. “We have been trying to track you for weeks now. You’re very good at covering your tracks sweetheart.”

“But why? I’m doing the right thing here.”

“As I remember killing innocent people isn’t exactly a right thing to do.” The tall one spoke.

“But he is not innocent.” I finally put my hands down. I was still scared for my life but decided to try talking some sense into these guys. I had no idea who they were but they sure were intimidating. “He is a serial killer. He killed two girls and drank their blood because he said it’s good for his skin and he was planning to kill a 16 year old girl tonight.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because, I did my research and I don’t feed on innocent people.” I said annoyed. The shorter guy was really pushing my buttons.

“Feed? So this blue smoke is your food? ” He spoke again this time confused.

“Okay, let’s go like this; check his bag over here; If you find ropes, duct tape, knives, a bloody empty bottle and a girls picture with her address on the back will you please put the guns down and listen?”

“Sam go check, I’m gonna keep an eye on her.”

“Sam? As in Sam Winchester? You must be Dean then?” My voice was shaky as my face went white as if I have just seen a ghost. Now I knew I had to be careful with my words if I want to make it out alive.

“In the flesh sweet checks.” He said.

WELL SHIT!

While Sam was rummaging through the bag I was trying not to have a panic attack right there and then. My mum told me about these guys...she warned me to be careful and I forgot to check if anyone was following me like I would usually do. How stupid of me...

“She’s right Dean.” Sam finally said.

Dean finally put his gun down as Sam checked if the son of a bitch was breathing. “He’s still alive.”

“If I don’t give him back his Chi he’s going to die though. And I’m not planning to. That son of a bitch doesn’t deserve to live.”

“What are you exactly? I have never seen anything like this before.” Sam asked.

“A succubus.”

“A succu-what now?” Dean asked confused.

“A succubus, Dean. “

“She’s a demon.” Sam added. “I thought Succubi only appear in dreams to seduce men.”

“Not really. That stuff is from fairytales. We don’t belong in hell nor do we hunt people’s dreams. We live a free life, the only thing we need to do to survive is feed.”

“Will anyone please tell me what exactly is a succu-demon?” Dean raised his voice a bit.

“I feed off sexual energy of people and other creatures to survive. That’s how I heal and keep myself heathy…through sex…more so.”

“So you bang people for food?”

“Not exactly. Just kissing is enough.” I laughed at his conclusion.

Dean seemed impressed for whatever reason. I think I have dodged a bullet this time. “Look, I know you’re hunters but I promise you I don’t kill innocent people. I go out of my way and feed on rapists, pedophiles and serial killers. I would never hurt a fly but I need to feed. Monsters can be humans as well.”

“Dean, I believe her.” Sam said. “I mean this kind of people deserve a death sentence and she’s giving them just that.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

OH THANK GOD.

I was relived, my mum never told me the notorious Winchesters had the brains to understand, she would always tell me how I was above all humans and how they were too stupid to understand. She was definitely wrong about that.

“Thank you for not killing me, I guess.” I said. “Can I finish my meal then?”

“Yeah…I guess.” Sam said scrunching his forehead. This was all new to him.

I got down on my knees and picked the guy’s head up. He was probably in a coma at this point. I kissed him and took the last bit of energy he had until he stopped breathing.

DEAN’S POV

As I was watching her feed I couldn’t help but stare and admire her beauty. She had a perfect figure and that ass in those jeans fuck man…There was just something about this girl, I couldn’t put my finger on it what it was, I just knew I wanted to get to know her. I hated demons but damn this one was a killer. I just hope I don’t end up like my little brother hooked on demon blood or some other crap.

“I’m (Y/N) by the way.” She said and stood up. She was glowing, she looked rejuvenated and even more beautiful.

“So what now (Y/N)?” I asked her.

“Now, I skip town and disappear.”

I felt like she just punched me in the face. It was more of a reality check. She was a freaking demon, then why was I feeling like this?

“Don’t you have a home?” Sam asked her.

“Not really, I’ve been on a road for a very long time, for safety reasons.”

“Before you go, do you wanna grab a beer?” I finally asked her.

“Sure. But I think I need something stronger than beer.”

“Like whiskey?”

“You read my mind Dean.” She smiled. She had the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. I was so confused. Maybe she just had that effect on everyone. I mean I wasn’t blind, she was beautiful but knowing what she was I thought I would have my guard up at all times, that I’m gonna hate her but…I didn’t? She was different.

We left the body there, but all the evidence of him being a serial killer was next to him. May he rot in hell with Crowley by his side torturing him all day every day.

We went to the bar we always go after we finish a case. Sam had a beer and me and (Y/N) had a whole bottle a whiskey. We talked about everything that night and me and Sam really got to know her. From her childhood to now…everything. She even told us when she found out she was a succubus- when she killed her boyfriend. The look on her face broke my heart a little. She really loved the guy, I can see it in her eyes as cheesy as that sounds but it was the truth- eyes never lie.

“Why no one told you what you are?” My brother asked her.

“My adoptive mother had no idea. She found me on her porch.”

She really went through a lot of crap and when she found her biological mother everything went to hell. And her father…man he was a dick. We had a lot in common.

“How do you control it though?” I asked her taking a sip of my whiskey.

“What?”

“The hunger.”

“My mother thought me.”

“She was…?”

“Yeah like my dad.”

After a good amount of alcohol the conversation went to a whole different route.

“So...have you ever banged a girl?” I asked her feeling the kick of whiskey in my brain.

“DEAN!” Sam shouted. He was kind of still sober.

“What?”

“It’s okay Sam. And yes, we don’t discriminate.”

“Nice.”

“Yeah when you can orgasm.” She then added. Now I was intrigued.

“What do you mean?” Then I added whispering. I was dead drunk by this point. “You can’t orgasm?”

“Real classy Dean.” Sam told me but I ignored him.

“I can but then I would kill the poor soul.”

“But you do feed on...”

“Yeah Dean but I don’t sleep with serial killers...I don’t have that fetish, plus most of them are creepy looking.“

I laughed at that statement, damn this chick was something else. We stayed at that bar till 3am. When she said she needed to go before cops start the investigation I got a little big sober.

“Why don’t you come with us?” I couldn’t just let her leave. Who knows when I will see her again.

“Whaaa-?” She mumbled.

“(Y/N) I don’t think you’re able to drive. You’re dead drunk.” AND THANK YOU SAMMY!!!!

“Fine, fine. I really need my beauty sleep.”

And that ladies and gentlemen was just a start of something...interesting.

YOUR POV

I woke up with a biggest hangover in a room I didn’t recognize. My head was pulsing and I could still taste alcohol in my mouth. I looked under the covers and saw I was still dressed, the last thing I remembered was Dean asking me if I ever slept with a girl, everything else is pretty much a blur.Knowing myself and my high libido, sleeping with Sam or Dean…or both would not have been much of a surprise. I went to the bathroom to get myself together and thank god whoever house this was they had mouthwash because damn, how much have I had last night? I put my hair in a messy pony tail, washed my face and left the room trying to figure where I was…The hallway was aerie and cold. This whole place looked like a bunker people would to hide during a war. As I was starting to freak out a little I heard Dean’s voice. So this was their place? I followed the echo until I found myself in the library and the Winchesters were there reading books. The library was every bookworm’s dream to say at least.

“Well, look who’s finally up!” Dean said raising his voice a little.

“Shhhh, don’t yell, my head is killing me.” I said and sat down.

“Let me get you an aspirin.” Sam said and went to get the magic pill.

“Where am I?” I asked. “Do you guys live here?”

“Yep, sweet home Alabama; even though we’re not in Alabama.”

“It’s a great song though.” I smiled. I haven’t noticed until now just how beautiful his eyes were. Damn, his whole face was beautiful. Green eyes, freckles, perfect smile…god I was feeling hungry again.

“Here you go.” I heard Sam’s voice pulling me back to reality, giving me a glass of water and aspirin. Bless his soul.

“Thank you.” I chugged the whole glass in a matter of seconds swallowing the pill. “What are you reading?”

“Oh you know about demon stuff…succubusy things.” Dean said.

“ Really?”

“Don’t worry we weren’t trying to find a way to kill you. It’s just we have never even heard about your kind.” Sam told me. He was like a little child so enthusiastic and curious, I found it quite adorable.

“And what do those books say?”

“You’re pretty badass.” Dean said. I couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah, from boosted strength, speed and beauty to transferring someone’s chi…” Sam added.

“Yeah well, it comes with a price.”

“I don’t get it though, is this your weasel or…”

“Oh no Sam, we are not that type of demons. This is me, if you stab me I can die if I don’t feed; it’s pretty simple.”

We spent that day in the bunker, relaxing and basically doing nothing. It was Sunday and the bothers decided it was time for a break. While we were having lunch I couldn’t help but think about my different kind of hunger. How can I be hungry if I’ve fed yesterday? It has never happened to me before. I had a beautiful burger in front of me but I was hungry for something entirely different. I was hungry for Dean. I would as subtle as possible look at him and boy the view was magnificent. I have always had a thing for men’s arms and fingers, and how the veins would show slightly. And if a guy has long fingers I had to have them in my mouth or in me. The main problem was though, I couldn’t. I couldn’t sleep with him without hurting him in any way; I didn’t want to kill him. Hell, if I did Sam will haunt me till the day I die (and the day I die would be when he kills me). That’s the price of being a succubus- if you like someone, don’t tell them, instead walk away and burry those feelings.

“Guys, I’m forever grateful for you not killing me and for taking care of my drunken ass. For the first time in a very long time I don’t feel like a monster.”

“You’re not (Y/N).” Sam told me.

“Definitely one of the good guys.” Dean added while stuffing his mouth with dessert- pecan pie.

“My mum would always tell me it doesn’t matter what you are. It only matters what you do. Her number one rule was: never kill innocent people. Without her help I would probably end up killing who knows how many innocent people.”

“Well let’s make a toast.” Dean said and raised his bottle of beer. Sam and I did the same. “For mama succubus!”

“FOR MAMA SUCCUBUS!” And so we took a sip of our beers. One thing mum didn’t know about these guys was they had golden hearts and behind those serious (and may I add beautiful) faces were two very kind and carrying men.

“I hate to break this happy moment but I will be leaving tonight.”

“Why?” Sam asked me.

“I have to; the police probably think they are hunting a serial killer. I have to skip town before something bad happens.”

DEAN’S POV

When I heard those words come from her mouth it was like someone punched me in the face...again.

“But why do you think something will happen?” I asked her as I chugged the whole bottle within seconds.

“It always does. Plus I can’t risk it.”

“Risk what?”

She looked annoyed, angry almost. She took a deep breath and shifted in her seat before responding. “My hunger will come back and there are no bad people to feed on at the moment in this town.”

She then excused herself and went to her room to pack. I couldn’t help but stare at her perfectly shaped ass.

“Dude!” I heard my brother say.

“Yeah?”

“The way you were looking at her and now checking out her ass. You’re more than obvious man.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Sam.” I lied. God, he knows me so well, I hated it sometimes.

“Whatever you’re thinking just remember, she can kill you.”

I mean he was right, but I didn’t care. She hasn’t even touched me and I was so infatuated with her.

“If she does, I’m gonna die a happy man.” I said and left the room.

“She was staring first; I’m just doing the rest of the job. Plus if I die, I will go out with a bang.” I thought to myself before knocking.

YOUR POV

When I opened the door my heart stopped working. My hunger went through the roof as I tried my best to keep my composure. “Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?” Dean asked after shutting the door.

“Shoot.”

“Are you hungry? And by hungry I mean are your succubus sensors tingling?”

Where was he going with this?

“If you put it like that yeah, king of.”

“Why don’t you feed on me?”

I didn’t really know how to answer his question at first because I was in shock. It was like he was wishing a death sentence. Was he aware I was checking him out?

“Dean, what has gotten into you?”

“You.”

“But-“

“Look all I’m sayin’ is if you’re hungry I’m here. You don’t have to skip town just for food.”

“I don’t think you understood me properly. I CAN KILL YOU DE-!”

I couldn’t even finish my sentence; the idiot grabbed my face and cut me off with a kiss. Describing the kiss would be like describing the scent you smell every time you “borrow” your boyfriends hoodie; impossible, but all the synonyms for beautiful and freaking hot could do. He kissed my lips gently before his tongue went in my mouth. I wrapped my hands around his neck to pull him closer as my hunger went full swing and I started to feed. I could feel his energy, so lustful and strong entering my body as I started to feel stronger but even hornier. I was going for it slow, thank god for mum, I could control the urges. I shoved Dean onto the bed and sat on his lap, my forehead against his.

“You’re crazy Winchester.”

“Hey it’s not my fault you’re obvious when you stare.”

Oh…

“Shit.” A wave of embarrassment went through my whole body but left right after Dean pressed his lips onto mine again.

“Yeah, I noticed.” He smirked.

“How do you feel?”

He didn’t look like people would usually when I would touch them. He was biting his lower lip not keeping his gaze off me, slowly driving me mad.

“Freaking amazing.” He whispered and went for my neck. He left kisses upon kisses as my hips naturally started to grind against his already hard and may I say BIG dick. He was gentle, yet a little bit rough. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the pleasure I was feeling before it hit me…

“Dean?!”

“Yeah?” He responded between kisses.

“We can’t fuck stupid. I’m gonna kill you.” I have realized just how much sex with me was deadly when I had a one night stand few weeks ago. I needed healing I had pneumonia and well he was hot. He took me home after few drinks and well…we slept together. Not wanting to kill him I stopped right as I was about to cum, but that wasn’t enough. He was unconscious and his heart beat was slow. I took him to hospital where he spent the next 2 weeks; he barely made it out alive.

“I know.” Dean said. “I just want to do this.” His strong hands cupped my ass as he lifted me up and threw me onto the bed. He took my jeans off as my mind went into a fog. God he was really doing this.

DEAN’S POV

If I couldn’t have her whole, I could at least give her something she probably never had without fear, a freaking orgasm. I didn’t want to waste any time and make her wait. I started slow, kissing her inner thighs around her panties, heating her whole body up. Her whole body was covered in shivers as I kissed her though her black panties.

“You know I can’t feed on you like that Dean?” She managed to say.

“Sweetheart, I’m multifunctional. I can be more than just dinner.” I told her and she laughed. God, that smile!

“Good to know.”

She was so mesmerizing it was unreal.

I took her panties off and soon she was too busy moaning my name to say anything else. I was licking and biting every inch of her when in a split second she grabbed my hair and was pulling hard. I took me by surprise but I loved it.

“Fuck, more. Ugh use your fingers…Please.” She begged me.

I was as obedient as a dog my two fingers went in her while my tongue was licking her sensitive clit now. I knew she was close. Her grip on my hair got stronger as her thighs were squeezing my head a little.

“FUCK I’M CLOSE!” She screamed. I started pumping faster and harder, adding the third finger before she completely lost it.

“DEAN!!!!” She screamed one more time before coming all over my fingers and mouth. She tasted so fucking good, so sweet and just…fuck man. I couldn’t even describe it. I climbed on top of her to kiss her and boy she was a mess…a beautiful mess. Before I could think of something to say she grabbed my face and kissed me hard.

“Thank you.” She told me. “I’ve never had an orgasm like this holy shit.”

“The pleasure is all mine, (Y/N).”

“In my whole life as a freaking demon of sex I have never came across a man or a woman who can do what you just did.”

“Were they all bad?”

“After Kyle…yeah.”

“So I guess I’m the chosen one.” I joked.

“Yeah, but you know I still have to leave this place.”

Damn reality check again. She must have noticed the face of disappointment and sadness I made right after she told me that because she kissed me again and explained why. She can never be in a normal relationship; she can never fall in love or be monogamous due to her nature because she will eventually lose control which I understood.

“Hey I can’t stop you, but I sure can give you my number and tell you to call me whenever you’re in town and up for little fun…without sex of course.”

“Not before I return the favor. “ She said and kissed me again.

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not-poignant · 1 year

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I was watching RotG and suddenly I could only see the meme with the increasingly large dominos. With the small domino being 'Pia watching RotG' and the big domino being 'Efnisien, Gary, Anton, Temsen, Gwyn and Augus all starring in the same a/b/o fic'. Does RotG hold a special place for you, thinking of all the stories you've written since?

Hmm,

Yes and no? There's an even smaller domino you're not seeing which is that I had written original characters and stories before this, and Augus in particular was based off an original character I'd written before (and not published) so like, Rise of the Guardians didn't *invent* him, I did, years before I ever watched the movie. But there's also dominoes that drove me out of the fandom, and it was my bitterness re: the fandom that prompted the writing of original fic in the first place.

So let me tell you a story, anon. If you don't want to know how toxic the RotG fandom could be, I recommend you just walk away now and know that no, actually, RotG doesn't have a special place in my heart, knowing I wrote original fic to initially escape the way some small pockets of that fandom treated me. Otherwise I would have written RotG fiction for far far longer, because as the old-timers will remember, I actually had a couple of longfic ideas lined up to go immediately after SAL that I abandoned because of well...everything.

I actually spent a while after finishing SAL kind of hating Rise of the Guardians because of some nasty drama and meanness/spite towards me, particularly in the last few chapters, and it took about 2-3 years before I could even consider watching the movie again or write for the fandom again. And then by the time I'd come back, all of my original stuff was established, and I felt a lot more comfortable, and a lot more 'fuck the haters' with some of the stuff I had previously had to deal with.

(Fandom wank beneath the cut, lol)

For example (self-harm and suicide mention) one person would specifically post graphic horrible self-harm photos complete with blood tagged into the RotG and blackice tag/s specifically to coincide with my chapter releases towards the end of SAL - and she was a BNF in the fandom in her own way, so *everyone* kind of knew who she was and what she was doing - and she blamed me and my story for the self-harm, and so I had people coming to me going 'do you realise what this story is doing to this person, don't you even care.' And of course I felt horribly guilty and distressed, but I was also at this point around 7/8 chapters from finishing the story, wanting to give everyone a happy ending, and after posting the last chapter I broke down and cried because I was just so relieved that I didn't have to be tormented by this specific person anymore or see these images as a survivor of suicide attempts and self-harm myself.

But also just crying out of sheer distress because of how horrible those last few weeks were, because like, if it wasn't for the readers I would have walked away due to the pressure and bullying and coercion to get out of the fandom just because I had a story that some folks enjoyed reading. That was a level of targeted hate I'd never encountered before, and have never encountered since.

Around that time a couple of small hate groups started up about me, and I would get messages like 'you realise there are hate groups about you, right?' and I'd be like 'please don't tell me about this, people can hate me, leave them alone.' Then there was the time I just got - over around 10 days - about 100+ messages telling me to kill myself because of SAL and how 'horrible' it was re: it's 'really dark themes' which I find hilarious now, but back then, was actually really stressful when it coincided with someone literally *harming themselves* or posting old self-harm photos on days I posted a chapter, talking about how the reason she was doing it was because she hated that my story was so popular when it didn't deserve to be.

Like, no, I did not have a special relationship with Rise of the Guardians by then, or the fandom. I hated it. It's why I stopped writing for it when previously I literally had so many ideas I wanted to write for Jack/Pitch. For years after that. I would remember the good memories I'd made with SAL, but a lot of readers followed me into original works. And otherwise, all I remembered was being forced to see those photos and this person's tags if I went into the tags to look for fanart to share and promote. I'd made some very good friends (some very best friends, actually), and some of us got the hell out of that fandom as fast as we possibly could to escape these people.

So like, I would love to say that like, I feel nothing but fond memories thinking of the influence Rise of the Guardians has had on me, but no fandom that I've ever been in has ever had this kind of level of underground viciousness that developed as the story gained momentum.

When I wrote The Golden Age that Never Was I was truly detached from the fandom and the movie. I was writing based on my memories and feelings of the characters. I didn't look in the tags like I used to, and instead looked for when I was mentioned directly. I had a spike of anxiety every time I got an anon message while writing it, and I had to like...avoid fics and a bunch of other stuff to get through it.

I have watched Rise of the Guardians since and I do really enjoy it, but...I don't see the dominoes the same way you do anon, probably because of the way it all happened in my head, though I do think putting original writing on AO3 happened partly because I was in a hurry to get out of the RotG fandom. So in a way RotG is connected to that, but like, only because I was fleeing and abandoning all of my Pitch/Jack ideas as I went (to the point where people remembered them and still asked me about them years later and I was like 'haha oh no sorry I'm not writing those oh well maybe one day!')

Chances are high I actually wouldn't have written original fiction if my love for Rise of the Guardians had still stayed strong. I was ready to write two very specific longfics, and had done worldbuilding for both, and was talking openly about them, but towards the end of SAL I bolted from the fandom as fast as I could. The hate I got from specific corners of the RotG fandom is one of the reasons I started writing Game Theory before SAL was even finished - to cope with how I felt about the end of SAL and the hatred I was getting there. When some of those folks said 'omg I'll never read a story about Augus' I was literally like 'oh thank fuck, I'm going to be left alone now.'

Like...I got diagnosed with Fibromyalgia like 6 months after that, I cracked teeth because of how stressed I was, and I still have crowns in my mouth and teeth removed because of that whole period. I was sleeping an average of 3 hours a night.

...I feel a very special fondness for the people who supported me at the time, especially my good friend Silvia, who is still my beta and friend today. She is responsible for far more of the dominoes that have led to this moment than Rise of the Guardians could ever directly be. And I am extraordinarily grateful for the readers who have found my stuff since. Now the majority of readers of my original stuff have never actually seen Rise of the Guardians or read my RotG fics, and like, actually sometimes that's really nice, if a bit weird.

I have never, in my life, encountered a fandom that could get as toxic as pockets of Rise of the Guardians got, and I'm including Dragon Age: Inquisition in that, which had literal blocklists of asexual people, so you know I mean business! But as a final point, I do want to say the majority of people there were amazing, absolutely amazing, this is truly a case of a few bad apples spoiling the whole experience, and I'm still to this day gutted it happened like that, and have zero surprise a lot of people left the fandom all at once, at the same time, because of it.

#asks and answers #personal #lmao not gonna tag this into anything important #SALverse #shadows and light #basically yeah... even when i rewatched the movie #i can't help but remember what happened #and those images #of literal self-harm being posted on tumblr #and tags viciously implying i was the worst person #for the crime of writing a story that got popular #like i didnt' PLAN for that to happen and i certainly didn't know #as a result #i'd be told to kill myself over a hundred times #one of the reasons i just don't give a shit about antis these days #is that i know they're just bullies #but being a *direct victim* of that bullying with those specific triggers #was like...yeah #anyway there are so many people from that fandom who i love and think of fondly #but the movie will always remind me of *that* time #and even writing this post has left me feeling like choked up and anxious #like i used to feel all the time back then #i have complicated feelings for RotG #and it's a shame because the movie is truly gorgeous and savagely underrated

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myers-meadow · 1 year

Text

House of 1000 Corpses AU ch. 6.1: Initiation

Title: chapter 6 Initiation

Summary: Doe Eyes' initiation into the darker part of the family. Shared AU with @immortal-velociraptor and @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, who Blinky and Selena belong to, respectively.

Wordcount: 2278

Warnings: canon-typical stuff. Gore, blood, grossness, psychological torture, cigarettes. Also: some fluff.

Trying to make chapters smaller so it's less daunting for me to write, so I cut the current chapter I'm working on in two (the thing is already longer than 5k words and I'm still going). Quite a large chunk of this was written weeks ago. Hope you enjoy <3

Divider by firefly-graphics as always.

“What you wanna do with him, princess?” Otis asked, as I finished my braid, leaving the end untied for now. It was greasy enough for it to stay decently enough. His hand that first pet my head, now warmed my thigh. “Take his fingers? His hand? Baby’d wanna scalp him, we can do that too. It’d be fitting.”

“Do you want to use him for a project?” I asked, keeping my voice quiet. The excitement was practically buzzing from Otis as he thought of the numerous ways he could torture poor Neil, but he kept his attention on me.

He hummed. “Don’t think this one’s inspiring me much. So, tell me, what’s your idea? I can tell you have some in that big brain of yours.”

“What you do with him is not up to me, you do as you like anyway.”

Glancing at panicked yet tired Neil did not give me any hope for him. His fate was sealed the moment he set foot in this house.

Otis barked out a laugh. “You’re part of this, whether you like it or not. May as well have some fun with it. Come on, Doe Eyes.”

“Okay, fine, but outside,” I said, playing with the charm on my earring.

After telling him my idea in hushed voices in the hallway, Otis could not contain his grin – and I felt like a true part of the Firefly family, however strange that sounded. Not wanting to see or hear whatever he got up to until it was time for my part in it, I wandered the house to look for chores to do.

“Doe Eyes! There you are,” it was Blinky, who rounded the corner, rushing to get to the attic.

“Blink! What are you up to?”

“Selena said that RJ was trying to catch raccoons, but that will hurt them, so we need to save the them.”

“Ah, I’ll come with. He put traps in the attic?”

After gathering the traps, and making sure neither of us got hurt in the process, we sat in their room with a bowl of sugary cereal.

“I don’t think there’s really any raccoons,” I tried, to make sure they wouldn’t worry, “or we would’ve seen traces of them up there.”

“After all that crawling around, we have to do something fun,” they said, head already somewhere else. Resolutely they set the bowl down on the nightstand. “Baby went through her old make-up, wanna try something out?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll be your canvas if you like.”

Blinky chatted as they did my make-up, something colourful, in pink and blue. I wasn’t allowed to talk or I’d move my face too much. At the end, they held a mirror up like they would at the hairdresser’s. “What do you think?”

“It’s so pretty, thank you. My turn next? I have an idea.”

“Oh, exciting!” They sat down, kicking their feet since they were short enough for them not to touch the floor.

“Sit still,” I warned, although that was just a formality, a habit. It didn’t matter if it takes a little longer. Dipping the brush into yellow first. I wasn’t practiced like Blinky was, but I used to paint kid’s faces sometimes, on special days at the end of the school year – colourful things.

“There, all done,” I said, trying to hide that I was proud of how good it came out. A yellow-brown butterfly, the one with many gorgeous eyes on its wings. I held the mirror up to show them. “Mein schöner Augenfalter. Do you like it?”

After dinner, it was time to do my part of the idea I had – wanted to give Neil the advantage of darkness. Nerves made my hands tremble and my heart race. I went up the stairs, feeling like each step made terrible noise from how uncoordinated my body felt, then crept in Otis’ dark room, only lit by a strip from the door that I left open to hear if anyone was coming. Neil’s chair was in the middle of the room, his back to me. The knife still stuck in the arm rest of the chair where Neil was sitting. He looked pretty beaten up, cuts all over, some even on his face and I cringed just looking at him. But now was to moment to prove my worth, my place in this family – so I kneeled down in front of the chair and pried the knife from the wood.

“Hey Neil,” I whispered. He was awake, and tried saying something through the rag in his mouth. I held my finger in front of my lips. “You gotta be very silent, okay?”

Pulling the gag down, he coughed and licked his dry lips, trying to croak out words, I shook my head.

“Quiet, or they’ll hear you.”

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? They’re all downstairs in the living room, except Tiny, he’s in the basement. Can you remember that?” With the knife out of the way, I untied the ropes binding his wrists and torso.

“You’re all going to jail for this,” he managed to get out.

I halted my movements, raising my eyebrows at him. “Do you prefer me to leave you here?”

Neil’s eyes widened as he realised he messed up again. “I mean, you’re with them, aren’t you?”

I shook my head. “I was like you not too long ago,” and I pushed up my sleeve enough for him to see one of the scars, “but it’s fine. Even if I go to jail, it’s fine. Please just get help.”

Neil, impatient, bend down to help me undo the ropes around his ankles. He looked at me then, only nodded.

“There’s a set of car keys by the door or in one of the coat pockets. They have a dog tied outside somewhere. I’m gonna go back downstairs and try to keep everyone there for a bit – wait until I’m down, yeah? Yeah.”

And so it began. I trailed back downstairs, where I made tea with hands that shook so bad I only dared fill the cup halfway. The danger of what I did felt terrible. What if Neil really got away? What if he really went to the police and- the thought of it was too much, making my heart beat a terrible rhythm. Blinky in jail- no, never, that should never happen. Even if Blinky was safe, and Selena too, on reasonable grounds of having been imprisoned, the thought of the rest of the family torn apart and imprisoned like common criminals was a horrifying thought. They had it coming, according to some, perhaps. But no, this family was more than just- than just criminals. They were a family. It felt like they were well and truly above the law, like nothing of the morals and values of the world outside of this house applied to them. And by now, I’m part of this. I’m part of this family. I pulled the tea bag from the mug and left it for later on the counter; time to go to the living room and hope for the best.

Mrs. Firefly, Baby and Blinky occupied the couch; RJ and Ghost must be in RJ’s room. Or walking the dog. Once I reached the living, Otis pulled me to sit with him in the armchair.

“Careful with the tea,” I said, which he ignored. I sat down on the matching ottoman in front of him. Our knees bumped into each other, which only further frayed my nerves.

He leaned forward. “You’re nervous.”

I hummed as I took a first sip of the tea that was still too hot, but I needed the comfort.

“Let’s have smoke,” he said as he stood up, expecting me to follow.

The cold January wind bit my face as soon as we stepped outside. Otis got the pack of cigarettes from his pocket, let me take one first.

He chuckled as he lit it for me and I took a first, big drag.

“Shut up,” I said, before he even opened his mouth.

“Don’t you love a good hunt?” he said, choosing to ignore me. He breathed in deep. “Can already smell the fear.”

“That’s just me.”

He put his smokes away – did he take me outside just so I could smoke?

“Princess, what are you afraid of? It’s not your hide on the line.” His voice was smoother as he talked, pleasant to the ears. As I toyed with the cigarette and looked anywhere but him, he trailed his finger up my arm, teasingly. He steadied my hand, raising it to his face so he could take a drag for himself.

“You’re in a good mood and it’s making me even more nervous,” I mumbled, messing with my earrings. His hand found a spot at the back of my head, underneath the braid, and he pulled it lightly so I’d look up at him as I exhaled the smoke. His unusual amber eyes searched my face, and as he pulled at my hair, that specific spot, it was like a switch flipped. His hold was not tight, but I felt like a puppet, easy for him to manipulate, easy for him to overpower – cruel hands so tender then, so sure of their hold on me. It was an almost a primal, base feeling, something ingrained, something I couldn’t stop. With a soft gasp, my eyes flickered shut as arousal stabbed my gut unexpectedly with each small tug.

“That’s a sweet sound, princess,” he chuckled darkly. “Be patient, I’ll spoil you after I’m done with the Scot.” His breath was hot on my face, and I felt caged by his presence alone. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he looked to mine. “You can be good and wait for me tonight, yeah?” Then he let go of my hair, and the spell was broken. Shakily, I took a last drag, staring at my boots in the mud.

As soon as I caught a glimpse of Neil’s auburn hair, I retreated to brush my teeth, even though it was rather early. In the bathroom, I stared at myself for a long while, before washing my make-up off. I looked normal. Fine. Just like any other day. It felt like I should be going grey from stress by now, but no, no such thing. A dangerous mood to be alone in, but I didn’t want to worry Blinky, and Baby would just tease me about Otis. I was already halfway down the stairs to the basement, before I realised that it was Tiny I headed to. I knocked and he opened the heavy basement door.

“Hi, Tiny, how are you? Can I stay here for a little bit? You can kick me out any time.”

His movements slow, he stepped aside to let me enter, and nodded to let me know he understood me. He handed me the book on his nightstand, even though Mrs. Firefly said he couldn’t hear well, and gestured me to sit down on his bed and read to him. The story was a simple adventure story, and halfway through, tiny laid down with his head in my lap. Not long after that, his eyes fell closed, and I replaced my thigh with the pillow, hoping he’d continue his sleep.

Immediately as I closed the basement door behind me, being careful with the noise even though Tiny wouldn’t hear, the dread and jitters were back. Right. Neil.

Up the stairs, on my way to brush my teeth a second time – just to stall, I passed Otis’ open door. He noticed me walk by, and went over to pull me inside, a knife in his hand, blood dripping on the floor.

“Nice of you to join us,” he said, grinning smugly. “All thanks to you, Neil and I had a nice time getting to know each other, didn’t we, Neil? Why don’t you say ‘thank you’ to sweet Doe Eyes for setting you free?”

Otis pulled down the gag and Neil spit out a string of profanities so vile, I flinched. “You betrayed me, you fucking cunt-”

Otis, who noticed my discomfort, shoved the gag back in his mouth, but the grin remained on his face. I’d truly done my part, and my stomach twisted itself into knots.

“Oh, Doe Eyes, come over here for a second, yeah, come ‘ere,” Otis opened his arms for me, and feeling lost and sick, I walked around Neil’s chair and right into them. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head, then rubbed my back. “You did well, real well. Couldn’t have thought of a better gift.”

“Gift?” I echoed, swallowing the bile in my throat. He released me, turning his attention back to poor Neil.

Otis chuckled. “If you wanna give the knife a try, he’s all yours.”

“No,” I said, voice firm for the first time that day.

Otis shrugged and twirled the knife in his hand. The handle was slippery with blood. “No matter.”

“I’m gonna try to sleep,” I said. “Do you know if Baby still has hers? If not, I can sleep with her if it’s quieter.”

He shook his head. “She’s gonna stretch ‘em out for a while – had a crush on the short one.” With the confidence of a jaguar, he walked around the tied man, seizing me up like he once seized Neil up. His eyes caught mine and it felt like a stab in my gut. “Don’t forget my promise, we’ll play too, tonight. I won’t be long.”

“You know Spaulding will complain if you don’t keep it down; don’t make it too late.”

#house of 1000 corpses #otis driftwood x oc #manon “doe eyes” driftwood #otis driftwood #baby firefly #tiny firefly #blinky firefly #selena “ghost” firefly

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