#heart shaped cinnamon rolls

[dallasyt]

Heart shaped blueberry filled cinnamon rolls!! ❤️🫐🤤 Check out the behind the scenes of me filming this short linked in the related videos, like and subscribe!!

[arthur-lesturs-right-foot]

My….my fucking cow slippers….they’re gone for good…

[clementine-png]

Tag rambling ignore me

[ultidol]

lyrinas parents spent like half an hour getting her dads medicine bc the ppl in front of us at the drive thru took soooooo long . wtv at least thst means less time before she gets to see dolls sister !

[heartfullofleeches]

Breakfast with the murder clown gang

[Mime Darling rubs sleep from their eyes as they stumble into the kitchen]

"Well look who decided to join us! I started on some pancakes for us - before I remembered waffles are way better and switched over to those. There's a bit of both so you can decide, but we all know the superior choice."

"Pancakes and waffles? Hm, I do hope Mimey will at least try a bite of these biscuits I made. Look, they're shaped like little hearts. I even whipped up some jam to go with them."

"I-I made eggs! They're probably the only thing I can made without burning the kitchen down...I know it's not much, but i hope you like them...."

"Made you some cinnamon rolls... Heh.... Promise I used real frosting this time."

"All that, but no meat. Come sit with me, Mimey. I'll share my sausage with you."

Red stands awkwardly off to the side - holding a glass of juice they poured for the mime. They have never touched a stove a day in their life besides to heat up pizza bagels.

Mime Darling:

Later:

"Oh, no.....I think we might've overfed them...again."

"Poor thing probably didn't want to hurt our feelings.... Such a sweetheart....."

[Mime Darling scrapes the last bit of food on their plate into their mouth - head resting on the table as their fork falls from their hand, eyes putting up their best fight to stay open. Red throws a blanket over their shoulders, picking the mime up as fatigue catches them in its grasp]

"Whoever finishes cleaning their mess first gets to hold them next."

[The clowns trip over each other searching for cleaning supplies]

[sweetsweetjellybean]

A quiet evening in, having drinks with your boyfriend and his roommate leads to a tempting proposal.

Part 1 of 2? WC: 1367 TW: kissing, voyeurism, alcohol

Sugar and smoke cling to your tongue as a frozen fire burns in the back of your throat. Warmth spreads inside you, sending a shiver to your skin. Lip gloss coats the rim of the tall shot glass when you place it on the scarred coffee table next to the bell-shaped bottle. Your tongue collects the remnants from your lips as you lean back, melting into the lean chest of your boyfriend behind you.

“I don’t know how you two drink that stuff,” Steve grimaces, rotating the crystal tumbler full of whiskey in his hand. His other arm is wrapped around your waist, his big hand splayed high on your thigh, toying with the edge of your skirt where you sit with one leg tucked beneath the other.

The dim light from the lamp casts a golden hue through the living room, accentuating the haze of the evening. Eddie, sprawled out on your other side, smirks as he watches you. His dark eyes glint with amusement and something else—something that has your stomach clenching.

“‘Cuz it tastes like candy,” you explain, leaning forward to run your thumb over the plump bottom lip of the chocolate-eyed boy, brushing off a gold flake only to have the wet tip of his tongue peek out and chase your finger.

Steve’s skeptical snort vibrates against your back.

“It’s not so bad,” Eddie murmurs, voice low and steady, as his unwavering gaze holds yours. Your inhale is sharper than usual, and his eyes flicker away, dropping to the floor before searching the room.

"Don't listen to him." Steve's lips are warm on your ear. "He never drank that shit before I started bringing you home." He places a kiss on your temple before trailing his lips lower, tilting your head to find the spot that has your toes curling into the carpet.

A moan so soft it’s barely above a whisper finds its way past your lips. Eddie's gaze snaps back to you. His eyes flare as he smooths his palm down his jean-covered thigh.

Heat rises from your neck to your cheeks, not entirely due to Steve or the liquor. You clear your throat with a shallow breath. “Well, I like having someone to take shots with me.” Leaning forward, you reach for the bottle, dislodging Steve’s lips as you fill the two glasses to the brim.

You nudge the other glass toward Eddie, looking up at him from under your lashes. The way his stare follows your movements has a shy smile tugging at your lips.

A huff comes from behind you. “Not that we mind you third-wheeling it, Munson, but it might be nice if you had a date every once in a while,” Steve says, downing the rest of his glass.

When you first met the roommates at a bar on campus, it was Eddie who was the shameless flirt. But after a few weeks, it hadn't amounted to anything. So when Steve asked you out, it was an easy yes. A few months later, and Eddie still hasn't brought anyone home. Steve has mentioned a time or two that he still isn't over the last girl who broke his heart.

Eddie scoffs, rolling his eyes as he reaches for the glass. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll work on that,” he mutters, his fingers brushing yours briefly as he takes the shot.

“I’m serious man…”

A sour taste fills your mouth and you down your shot hoping the cinnamon will overpower its bitterness. 

“We were just talking about it the other day. It would be nice to see you with someone new. Instead of sitting around here shooting brooding looks at the plant.” Steve gestures at the potted fern you brought over a few weeks ago. 

“I don’t brood.” Eddie places his glass back on the table with a little more force than necessary. 

“Dude, you're like the poster child for 80’s rock ballads. Look, we just want to see you happy. Isn’t that right, angel?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, meeting his gaze, “I want you to be happy, Eddie.”

The look he gives you in return is heavier than you can hold. Your eyes lower to your hands twisting in your lap. “Isn’t there anyone you like?”

The air is trapped in your lungs while you wait for him to answer.

“No.” His reply is quiet but firm, making you swallow hard.

“Well, maybe it’s time to–” Steve makes a clicking sound with his tongue, “–Get back on the horse. Stop waiting on Miss Right and find Miss Right Now.”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s shoulders slump as his gaze drifts, “Maybe you’re right.”

“I know I am. We’ve all been there before. All you need is a little confidence boost,” Steve’s hand squeezes your thigh, “Maybe you can help him out, angel?”

Eddie’s mouth drops open as he sucks in a breath. Your head whips around, eyes impossibly wide as you stare at Steve.

“What?” Steve asks his face the picture of innocence. “Oh,” he says after a moment, the light in his eyes turning on. “I meant maybe you could introduce him to one of your friends.”

Your shoulders relax, but tension still simmers in your stomach. Eddie clears his head with a shake, a quiet chuckle escaping his throat as he reaches for the bottle.

“I mean unless you two were up for it,” Steve throws out, leaning closer.

Eddie freezes his knuckles turning white as he grips the bottle. 

“Steve!!” You react the way a nice girl should but shock doesn't explain the heat pooling low in your belly or the dampness in your underwear. 

“You told me you think he's‐” 

You muffle Steve's next words by slapping your hand over his mouth, but he pries your fingers off and turns to Eddie, “She thinks you're hot.”

“I said cute,” you correct, but the clarification doesn’t stop Eddie’s lashes from lowering bashfully or the rose blooming on his cheeks.

“Same thing,” Steve grips your chin, turning your face towards him. “And anyone with eyes can see how beautiful you are. I’ll never forget how damn lucky I am to have you.”

His mouth is an irreverent caress of lips and tongue that has your heart swelling. Your thumb traces the twin freckles on his cheek, his hazel eyes lit up with warmth for you that he's never attempted to hide.

“So let me get this straight,” Eddie's gravelly voice cuts through the moment. “You, Steve Harrington, are offering for me to make out with your girlfriend?”

“You're my best friend, dude. I trust you. Besides,” His index and middle finger run along the bare skin of your arm, raising goosebumps in their wake. “I've always liked to watch.”

“You've never told me that,” you can't hide the surprise in your voice.

“You never asked,” he replies with a wink. He searches your face as his fingers continue their journey, lightly tracing your collarbone, down the swell of your breast, and over the hard outline of your nipple. “There are so many things I want to do with you. We haven't even scratched the surface.”

In the span of a breath, you’re clutching at the front of his shirt, your lips crashing together in a way that’s only happened behind closed doors. One hand tangles in your hair, heavy breaths and the wet sounds of your mouths fill your ears. His other hand seems to be everywhere, leaving little fires under your skin.

Eyelids heavy, you follow his hands as he turns your jaw toward Eddie. “Look at him, angel. He wants you. Don’t you, Eddie?”

Eddie’s dark eyes are almost black, his pupils blown wide, a flush heating his skin. “Yes,” he admits, loosening his grip on the couch to run a hand through his hair. “Fuck.” He looks away, then his gaze locks with yours. “I do. I want you.”

The flames in you rise, chasing the butterflies into taking flight. Your breath catches, lips parting.

“It’s your decision,” Steve’s lips are at your ear. “You say no and it all stops. It’s over. Forgotten. Just say the word and we’ll give you anything you want.”

Eddie sits with tension pulling his shoulders tight, the muscles in his neck cording. His lip is caught between his teeth, his expression unguarded, eyes a silent plea, hoping not to regret his confession.

The solitary word crystallizes on your tongue, the sweetness of your drink turning it sticky, making it impossible to pass your lips.

The static charge freezes the air. Steve's fingers tease under the edge of your shirt, drawing circles on your hip. His question is soft but insistent. “So, angel, what’s it going to be?”

Thanks for reading! Let me know if you want a second part. Torn's chapters are just so big, I wanted a break with something short and sweet.

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 7

Warnings: slight angst, reader and Eddie getting high together, mentions of cheating and break up's, mentions of bullying, reader and eddie are really affectionate with each other but it’s all platonic. mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of Eddie's abusive dad

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Eddie tells you about the night he found Steve at the hideout.

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: well, I finally figured out how to make headers, let’s see if I will keep doing them haha

masterlist

-

The room smells like hot chocolate, cinnamon and a hint of Eddie’s cologne. The mug on the table that was filled to the brim is now halfway empty. A box of Christmas cookies that your mom gave him when he came by last night is in between the two of you. He hasn’t stopped munching on them since you started the movie; Halloween. 

You couldn’t choose between Friday the 13th and Halloween so you let him pick. 

After you let your friends know that you were leaving, you and Eddie went to the diner to eat something before you went back to his trailer after renting a few movies at Family Video. 

“I can’t believe that this is your favorite movie,” Eddie says as he bites into the snowflake shaped cookie. 

You turn to look at him. He is still wearing the same clothes as before just like you. 

“Are you judging me?” You snort, swatting his arm. “You literally picked it.”

He chuckles and looks at you with a smirk, “I picked between the ones you chose.”

“You literally said that Halloween is one of your favorite movies!” 

He shrugs, chewing the cookie before he speaks up again, “maybe I lied.”

You roll your eyes and lean back, “so what’s your favorite movie then, master of dungeons?”

The nickname makes him chuckle, he turns his head away from the screen, “Halloween.” 

He laughs when you shake your head in disbelief, grabbing one of the pillows, you hit him with it, causing him to laugh harder. 

“Dork.” 

He snorts at you, “dork? What happened with the master of dungeons?” 

You lean closer to him and look into his eyes with a serious look on your face, “he turned into a massive dork.”

“If I’m a dork then what are you?” 

“A fairy witch,” you wink at him and reach for one of the cookies before you lean back. 

His eyes flash with amusement, his lips curl into a smile, “right,” he laughs, “is the fairy witch gonna stay over tonight?” 

You face him again, the cookie is still in your hand. There’s a knowing look in his eyes.

He knows your mom won’t be home tonight, she is working the night shifts this week and won’t be home until the morning. If there is one thing that Eddie had learned about you in the time you had become friends, is that you hate going to sleep when you are home alone, he doesn’t know why but he noticed your anxiety early on. He saw the tired look in your eyes in the mornings and he noticed how easily you would drift off to sleep when he came by after school to study. You would make up excuses when he’d ask you about it but he could see through you. 

He doesn’t know the reasoning behind your fears but he understands it. When he was a kid, he was restless, he struggled to sleep at nights because of his dad, who usually came home late after spending the night drinking or doing drugs. Whenever Eddie would hear the front door opening, his heart would start racing and he would be on high alert – his dad always picked fights with his mom and all Eddie ever wanted to do was to protect her. But he was just a kid and his dad was a violent man. 

Eddie couldn’t protect her. 

When he moved in with Wayne, nothing changed for the first few months. He kept staying up at nights – the anxiety and the fear that always lingered kept him up. Whenever he would fall asleep, nightmares would wake him up. He would hear the trailer door being slammed open, he would hear his mom screaming, his dad yelling and hitting things. Eddie would wake in cold sweat, he would jump up from the bed and run out of the room to stop his dad from hitting her only to realize that the trailer door never opened, his dad never came in and his mom would never be there again. 

He knows that you are struggling with something too but he would never push you to talk. He just wants to protect you. 

“We could watch Friday the 13th and y’know, share a joint.” 

You swallow. 

“You don’t mind me staying over?”

Eddie frowns at your question and shakes his head, “why would I ask if I minded you staying over? You know you’re always welcome here, sweetheart.” 

You smile at his words. Eddie always knows how to make you feel safe and comfortable. Heather and Chrissy make you feel that way too but it’s different with them. You love and appreciate them but there are things that you can’t say to them – not because you don’t trust them but because you wouldn’t be able to deal with their pitiful looks, it’s been bad enough already after he dumped you. 

You aren’t the only one who refuses to speak about certain things. You know that Chrissy has a secret, one that Heather is keeping safe from you. It hurts a little because a part of you is scared that it might have something to do with you. Why else would they keep a secret from their best friend?

“Then I’d love to stay the night.” 

He smiles, “cool.”

After you finish watching the movie, you carry the empty mugs and the box of cookies back into the kitchen. Eddie turns off the TV and reaches for the other movie tape before he leads you into his room. He turns on the small lamp on his nightstand and throws the tape on his bed. He walks over to his dresser and opens the top drawer. 

“You know, the joint you mentioned earlier…” you mumble as you let yourself fall on his bed, curiously staring at the handcuffs that remain a mystery to you. 

“You know, they should be calling you ‘the stoner’, not me,” he snorts. He turns back to you and hands you a shirt, he eyes you up and down, “here, that dress is pretty but it can’t be comfortable to sleep in,” he laughs. 

“How kind of you,” you chuckle. You unfold the shirt, your eyes widen a little, “isn’t that your favorite one?” 

He nods as he takes the chain around his neck off and places it on his nightstand. 

“My favorite girl gets my favorite shirt,” he says, ruffling your hair as he winks at you. 

You swat his hand away and laugh, “how many girls do you say that to, Eddie?” 

He raises his brows and places his hand on his chest, “you think I’m bringing home girls? Did you forget who I am?” He laughs, shaking his head. 

You furrow your brows. You drop the shirt on your lap and tilt your head to look at him. 

You and Eddie haven’t been friends for long but you feel comfortable with each other – comfortable enough for him to take his shirt off in front of you. He throws it over his chair, he stands there shirtless for a second, scratching the spot around his new tattoo. He is just your friend but you are not blind, Eddie is pretty in a way no other guy at school is – except for Steve.

“You’re saying that you don’t bring any girls home?” You ask as you carefully pull the straps of your dress down your arms before you put the shirt on. Too lazy to get up and change in the bathroom, you take the dress off after pulling the shirt down to your thighs. 

He puts on a black tank top and closes the drawer. “And no, I don’t bring any girls home. I’m a freak, nobody wants me.” 

“Don’t say that,” you frown. 

“Well, it’s the truth,” he chuckles as he drops down on the bed beside you after getting the pre rolled joint and a lighter, “girls don’t want me and honestly, I don’t care. I wouldn’t want to bring random girls home anyways.” 

You raise your brows in surprise, it makes him chuckle but his eyes flash with confusion. 

“What?” 

“You actually wouldn’t bring home girls?” You ask. “Like, not even if they were throwing themselves at you?”

“You mean if I was popular?” He snorts.

You nod.

He shakes his head, he scoots closer to you and offers you the joint. You take it in between your fingers and bring it up towards your mouth, wrapping your lips around it, you look at him expectedly, nudging your chin towards the lighter in his hand. He holds it up to the joint and flicks the lighter, holding the flame against the bud of the joint. You inhale and close your eyes. 

Eddie chuckles and pats your back when you open your eyes and exhale the smoke without coughing this time. 

“Like a real stoner.” 

“Shut up,” you chuckle and offer him the joint which he takes right away. He places it in between his lips and lies back, tucking his arm behind the pillow. He looks up at the ceiling and sighs after exhaling the smoke. For a moment, it’s silent between the two of you. 

You stand up and place your dress over the back of his chair after folding it. You turn on the TV before you plop back down on the bed. 

“I won’t lie to you, I’ve hooked up with uh – maybe three girls but they didn’t bother sticking around, they wouldn’t even look at me afterwards, they looked disgusted, every single one of them. I-I don’t know what I was thinking, I was hoping that it would be different each time but they were the same, all of them. The sex was good but uh I honestly don’t see the point of it if they don’t bother sticking around or if there’s no actual meaning behind it.”

Your heart breaks for him. You can imagine what he must have felt like when they treated him that way. You can see the sadness in his eyes, even when he tries to mask it. 

You scoot closer to him and reach for his hand, his eyes meet yours and he smiles at you. 

“You deserve better Eddie,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. “They were stupid cunts.” 

A laugh falls from his lips, he tries to mask the hurt in his eyes with amusement but you can see through him, just like he can see through you. 

“You know, Steve wouldn’t look at me either, sometimes. He just uh, he would fuck me, he would finish and then he would pass out. He rarely ever held me or kissed me, he almost never said ‘I love you’ either.”

Eddie frowns at your words. He isn’t shocked but he is angry. 

“It hurt so bad because I loved him so much and all I wanted was for him to just hold me and tell me that he loves me but he didn’t and it made me overthinking everything,” you mumble as you blink the tears away, “and then there was Tommy who always said how men need new partners all the time, how they get bored with their girlfriends and I was praying that that wasn’t the case for Steve, that the reason why he never held me or kissed me was because he was just bad at being affectionate and romantic but then he agreed with what he said even though I was right there and it uh, it hurt, really fucking bad. I kinda lied to myself though, I kept telling myself that he did love me, that he didn’t get bored with me but then he left me for her and he changed for her so uh, I figured that Tommy was right all along.” 

Eddie scoffs, he shakes his head at your words, “that’s not true, sweetheart.”

“It’s not?” You ask as you look back up at him. 

“No. Tommy is a shittalker and Steve is an idiot – like a real idiot,” Eddie says as his eyes widen. He laughs a little, it’s a humorless laugh but a laugh nonetheless. “He was a piece of shit for not treating you the way you deserve to be treated but I think that he is one of those guys who lets his friends words get to him, who feels pressured to keep his reputation as some fucking heartbreak King rather than be a good boyfriend.” He looks like he knows something that you don’t. “He’s also the type of guy who doesn’t know what he has until it’s gone.” 

“That makes sense,” you say even though you are not sure whether it actually makes sense or not. He almost kissed you and then he told you that he still loves you, that he always loved you only to show up to the dance with Nancy, like nothing ever happened. 

Eddie stares at you. Your brows are furrowed and you have that same confused and lost look in your eyes that you always have whenever you get lost in your thoughts. 

“Hey uh, I should probably tell you something,” he says as he sits up. He scratches the back of his neck and offers you the joint. You take it but don’t smoke it yet. 

“What’s up?” 

He runs his fingers through his curls and he takes a deep breath, “I drove him home last night.”

“Huh?”

He sighs, “Steve. I drove him home last night. I went to the Hideout to get my notebook and he was there getting plastered. He followed me outside and started asking about the jacket,” he mumbles, pointing to the jacket that is now back in his room again. “He got all pissed and jealous.”

You roll your eyes and scoff at his words.

“He calmed down when I told him we’re friends but uh, he tried to leave and I would’ve felt awful letting him drive home like that so I drove him home.” 

A smile tugs at your lips, Eddie’s kindness is something that always warms your heart. To know that he is showing such kindness to people who don’t deserve it just proves even more how amazing he is. 

“He started crying.”

A shocked expression takes over your face and you draw back a little, “what?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckles as he shakes his head. “He uh– well, first he insulted my music taste and then I turned on the radio for him, David Bowie came on and boom, I have a sobbing King Steve in my van.” 

“Oh,” you whisper, your gaze softens. “David Bowie?” 

“Mhmm.” He reaches for the joint again and places it between his lips, taking a drag before he places it into the ashtray on his nightstand. “Heroes.” 

Your lips part and your face falls. It was your song. Yours and his. To know that it has such a hold on him still, makes you feel things that you want to keep buried. 

You push yourself up and sit in front of him, “then what?”

Eddie’s brown eyes soften, he can see the pain in your features, the love that you still have for him. He can’t imagine how much pain there still is. He clears his throat.

“He said he misses you, that he doesn’t know what to do without you and that he wants you back.”

Your eyebrows draw together and your eyes feel hot with tears. Your heart hurts. After all, you still want him, deep down you do but you won’t take him back, not after everything he did. Not after the way he treated you, not after he cheated on you emotionally, not after he made you doubt everything, not after he told you that he never loved you, not after he left you for another girl. 

You look down to hide the tears in your eyes. After almost two months, you should be feeling better, you were starting feeling better but then he had to rip the bandaids of your wounds that he had given you. 

You don’t like crying in front of other people, you have never cried in front of Eddie before  but right now, you can’t really stop the tears from falling. It’s all just too much. 

“Hey,” Eddie whispers. His eyes soften and he doesn’t even hesitate before he opens his arms for you, offering you a hug that you so desperately need. You crawl over to him and let yourself fall into his arms. He wraps his arms around you as you lay your head on his chest. He rubs your back gently. “I’m here, I got you.”

You close your eyes and melt into the hug, this is what you needed. 

This is what he never gave you. The feeling of comfort and safety. The feeling of knowing that he won’t push you away again after a few minutes. 

You loved Steve – you love him. He was there but he was never with you. His mind was somewhere else, it always was. He gave you moments but he never gave you his all. With him you were never alone but god, you were so lonely. 

Eddie keeps holding you. The sound of your cries and the voices in the TV fill the silence in the room. 

He keeps rubbing your back, he plays with your hair and he doesn’t let go. 

Why couldn’t he just hold you like he does? 

“I know that this won’t make anything better but I think he loves you and he is starting to realize what he lost – only a man in love would get drunk at a bar he hates and break down in front of a guy he hates, also.” 

You sniffle and grip his shirt tighter. 

“Then why is he still with her? Why didn’t he love me before?”

“I think he always loved you, he was just too dumb to see and she,” he pauses, sighing. “She’s probably just a rebound now. Honestly, I think he was scared of all of this, his love for you. He was scared of it so he just threw it away and fucked it all up and now he’s following you around like some lost puppy.”

He does look like one, with his stupid brown eyes and the sad look in them. 

“Why are you telling me this, Eddie?”

He takes a deep breath, he looks down at you but you hide your face as you wipe your tears away. 

“I don’t know, I just think that he made a mistake and that the pain he put himself through shaped him into a different person,” he says, still glancing down at you, “I know you think that she changed him but that’s not the truth. I think he changed because of you – he’s still a dick and I don’t think that he deserves you but for what it’s worth, he does love you and he did love you even when he didn’t act that way but I saw the way he looked at you.”

You sniffle, trying to control your breathing as you look up at him, “what do you mean?” 

His eyes soften and he hugs you even tighter, “when you were still together, he always looked at you like.. shit, like you hung the moon and the stars,” he chuckles. “I was shocked when I found out that he left you for some other girl. Made no sense to me, still doesn’t, by the way.”

You don’t know whether his words make you feel better or worse. 

Eddie’s brown eyes are filled with sincerity and softness. 

He can’t understand how Steve could do this to you. How he could just treat you so horribly and break your heart so easily. 

“I think he really wants you back but I don’t think that he deserves a second chance, not yet.”

“Not yet?” 

“I’m not gonna say that he will ever deserve one but maybe–” he pauses, he sighs as he watches the tears rolling down your cheeks, “maybe he will change and maybe he will fight for you and maybe it will be worth giving him that chance.”

You scrunch your face up and slowly shake your head, “I can’t.”

“You don’t have to,” he says as he squeezes your arms, “it’s just, I can see that you love him and as much as I don’t like him or the idea of you going back to him, he really loves you too – it would be a shame if you both spend the rest of your lives longing for each other when you could just be together.” 

“What would you do?” You ask. You place your palms against his chest and you lean your chin on the top of your hands. “If you were in my place.”

He blinks and he stares at you for a long moment. 

“I would just focus on myself for now,” he mumbles. He reaches his hand out to touch your hair, running his fingers through it, “I would find things that I enjoy doing – not what I was forced to enjoy.” 

You look down and sigh. 

“I would try out new things, focus on school and I know that you will snatch that diploma, I’d get the hell out of here after that. Maybe in the future, you and Steve will find your way back to each other or maybe you will meet someone who will love you the way you deserve to be loved,” he says.

You’re met with a soft look in his eyes when you raise your head to face him again. You smile at him. 

“You will snatch that diploma too, Eddie. I’ll help you.”

“I know you will,” he smiles. 

“And then we should get out of here together – we should move to LA so you can become the rockstar that you’re meant to be. We can rent a place together, I always wanted to live with a friend.”

He laughs at your words but then he falls quiet and his eyes flash with something you can’t read. 

“You know that might be a good idea.”

“I know it is.”

“Shit,” he chuckles, “we should actually do that.”

“Right?”

“Right,” he smiles.

“And what will you be?” He asks, turning his head to look at you as you lie back beside him. 

You lick your lips and stare at the new poster on his ceiling. What do you want to be? Who do you want to be?

You furrow your brows in concentration, a weird feeling settles in your chest. You don’t know. You don’t know anything, it seems like. Who even are you?

“I-I’m not sure.”

Eddie can sense the stress you’re feeling, he takes your hand in his, “hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to know yet.”

“I just.. I don’t even know what I want, Eddie,” you whisper, “I don’t even know who I am.”

You turn back to him, your sad eyes meet his. He squeezes your hand. 

“You’ll figure it out, I know you will and I’ll be there with you.” 

You maintain eye contact and scoot closer to him as you turn on your side. 

“You’re the best, Eddie.”

His eyes shift as he stares at you, he turns on his side as well, “nah, you are the best,” he smiles, tapping your nose the way he always does. 

“Don’t tell Heather or Chrissy but you might be my new best friend.” 

His eyes light up at your words and his smile widens, “only if you don’t tell Gareth and Jeff that you are my new best friend.” 

Your eyes widen, a giggle falls from your lips, “your secret is safe with me.”

“Yours is safe with me too.” 

“Pinky promise?” You ask as you hold your hand out to him. 

He laughs and brings his hand up, hooking his pinky around yours, “pinky promise.” 

You both fall silent as you look at each other with smiles on your faces. 

“Shit, who would’ve thought that I’d ever have the queen of Hawkins High in my bed.” 

“Shut up,” you laugh. 

For the rest of the night, you and Eddie talk about your lives after high school, dreaming about things that might never happen but it doesn’t matter, all that matters is the laughs you both share. You watch Friday the 13th and continue passing the joint back and forth, only making each other laugh harder by making fun of the movie that isn’t even funny. 

You are grateful for Eddie and for the love and kindness he is giving you. He has become your little beacon of hope. He is the one who makes you laugh now, he is the one who holds you when you need it the most, he is the friend that everything feels so natural with – even falling asleep in his arms when you’re in nothing but panties and his shirt. You wouldn’t have done that with any other guy but he makes you feel safe. 

When you wake up in his arms the next morning, you feel lost and confused for a second. His arms are wrapped around your waist and your head is on his chest, you can hear his heartbeat. For a moment, you thought you were somewhere else, in someone else’s arms but when you open your eyes and you are met with Eddie’s sleeping face, you relax a little. 

You can’t help but smile as you look at him. 

If Steve didn’t dump you, you wouldn’t be here. You would be in his bed right now. But you wouldn’t feel his arms around you, you wouldn’t feel his warmth, you wouldn’t feel him. You would wake up to a harsh reality, one where you continuously lied to yourself in order to keep him and to keep yourself happy. But were you ever happy? 

You miss him, despite what happened, you still miss him. 

But maybe it was for the better. 

Maybe it had to happen this way. 

You wouldn’t have Eddie now. You would have never become friends. And now, you wouldn’t trade this for anything in this world. This friendship has given you more than your relationship with Steve ever did. 

Yet, you still need closure. You want answers and a peaceful conversation. 

So you make the decision to try it. To try and talk and sort things out. You let go of him but there are still so many things that you don’t understand, things that will never give you if you don’t sit down and have that much needed conversation with him. 

When you show up at his house, later that night. You didn’t expect to see his parents' car in the driveway, next to his. You stand in the darkness for a moment, contemplating whether you should actually ring the doorbell or not. The lights are on in the kitchen and in the dining room. 

What if she is here?

What if they are having dinner together? 

Is she sitting in your spot now? 

Does his mom like her the way she always liked you? 

Does his dad hug her the way he hugged you whenever he saw you? 

You close your eyes and you take a deep breath, inhaling the cold air. You try to calm your heartbeat. Was it a good idea to come here? What if he doesn’t want to see you? What if–

You open your eyes and walk up the stairs, you ring the doorbell before your mind can convince you to turn on your heel and run. You can hear the faint sound of music in the house. 

You dig your nails into your palms as you grow more and more nervous. You bounce your knee and stare down at the snow beneath your boots. 

The door opens and you raise your head, for some reason you had expected Steve’s dad to open the door but instead it’s him. You watch as his eyes widen, they lighten up a little but they also flash with confusion. 

“Hi, can we talk?” 

next part

tagging friends & mutuals only!

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @screammunson @hellfire--cult @taintedcigs @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @take-everything-you-can @nemesis729

[phasecornnuts]

Hiiiiiiii! If you’re still open for requests maybe you might wanna write something where the reader casually mentioned that they/she had a partner on earth before they died and Alastor takes it a bit too drastically and has just been very salty and asking too many questions 😭 if you like that

Please & thanks ❤️

Hey guys I've returned! Sorry for taking a little while, I was busy with finals/I wanted to relax on my spring break so I didn't have a lot of time. I lowkey kind of cooked with this one too so enjoy :3

Also, I sorta made the reader be from around the same time period as Alastor (sorta late 1910s early 1930s) for extra spice

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had become a daily routine for you and Alastor to have afternoon tea together in cannibal town. Always, between the hours and four and six o’ clock after Alastor had finished his broadcast and you, your hotel duties, the both of you would walk down to Rosie’s Emporium to nibble on finger sandwiches, candied eyeballs, and other treats. 

The sun was still high in the sky, sending fingers of light through the windows of the cafe; the building was alive with the chatter of demons and hell-born alike. You and Alastor had just sat down, a short cannibal girl with a heart-shaped face and glowing brown ringlets placing your usuals on the table. Oh how beautiful they were! Too pretty to eat, garnished with tiny sprigs of mint (or, at least, it may have been mint) and resting on plates of delicate porcelain. With polished silver beside them, and matching teacups and saucers too, it all looked like a party for a girl’s favorite doll.

That is, if it weren’t human meat. 

Looking up from your plate, you saw Alastor turn his head to follow the cannibal girl making you frown. His gaze returned to you before he caught you staring, a chipper grin on his face as always.

“She could be a dead ringer for Mary Pickford, don’t you think?”

Your eyebrows perked. You hadn’t looked long at the girl admittedly, though you stared long enough to know that she was no Pickford. You pursed your lips,

“I don’t see it, Lillian Gish maybe.”

He looked at you like a mad-woman, “You don’t!?”

“No! Her eyes are much too large!”

Alastor chuffed, proceeding to rest his chin on his dark hand, “In the eye of the beholder I suppose.” 

You rolled your eyes, “You only say that because of her curls,” you stated while picking up the teapot and pouring yourself and Alastor your cups, “Now, drink before it gets cold.”

For much of your lunch neither of you spoke, merely enjoying each other’s presence while pecking on some food here and there. Throughout the meal the waitress brought more plates, pancreas tarts, minced tongues coated with cinnamon sugar, and sweet pies filled with rotted venison and cooked kidneys, all Rosie’s treat. Alastor had been taken by the small pies in their mulled deliciousness, the meat so tender you saw his eyes water. He pleaded you to try one, though you couldn’t, your stomach filled to the brim from the other treats and delicacies. 

Alastor picked up the small pair of silver tongs from beside him and placed two sugar cubes in his tea, “I do say, it’s nice to have a meal companion again.” He took a sip from his teacup and grinned. 

You nodded in agreement, lifting the milk jug from the table and pouring a generous amount into your cup. “Likewise. Good dinner conversation is a horrid thing to lose.”

“Truly.” He took another drink. “Before you, I hadn’t had a proper luncheon since my mother.”

“From what you tell she sounded like a fine woman.” His grin lost its eeriness, becoming fond instead. 

“She truly was, and such a fine cook too.” Alastor gazed at the fine pattern painted on the rim of his saucer, “her jambalaya was the best, our side of the Mississippi” he chuckled. He began to remember then, “And her gumbo and her crawfish etouffee and her pecan pralines”

It was odd to hear his voice so full of affection, but nice too. So strange, to think a man who broadcasted his murders of other overlords and feasted on their flesh was once a little boy who clung to his mothers skirt and happily ate her cooking. 

“Maybe one day you’ll cook for me then?” you teased

“Oh why wouldn’t I for my favoritest of sinners?” He took your hand.

You leaned in towards him, a silent flirtation. “Or perhaps I could prepare something for you?”

He looked at you from his dark, hooded eyes, a certain intrigue radiating from them. “Would you now?” he said, leaning in closer. 

“Oh I would, anything you’d like.” the tip of your oxford lingering at his ankle. “My food was good enough for my darling back on earth, why would an overlord of hell have any complaints? Other than not enough seasoning I suppose.” 

That was when the laughter in his eyes died. Alastor bit the inside of his cheek before finding the words to speak, “Your darling?”

 “Pardon?”

“You had someone,” He straightened up, pulling himself away from you, “back on earth?”

“I hardly see how it matters now.” 

Alastor’s tone grew curt, had such a simple word bruised his ego? 

He crossed his arms, “What were they like?” each word as sharp as his teeth.

You pulled your hands close to you, confused at his curtness, “They were….they were nice. Cordial, spirited, vivacious, however you would put it. If you’re-” Alastor cut you off. 

“How did you meet them?”

“On the trolley.” That only served to make him scoff.

“Tch, how common. The trolley.”

You chewed your bottom lip, trying to deny the anger towards him that began to knot in your belly. “It was a different lifetime.” You asserted, a hard finality to it. Pushing yourself from the small table you smoothed your skirt and adjusted the ribbon that was tied so nicely in your hair. 

Without looking at him you said, “Tell Rosie I’m grateful for her hospitality and I will try to find a way to repay her. Also that I’m sorry that I had to retire without saying hello but I feel rather…faint.” Before leaving completely you said, “See you back at the hotel.”

The rest of the day you hid in your room, sulking and pacing. Charlie had tried to coax you out, seeing how angry you’d been when you came back, but you denied every effort she had. 

“It’s not good to stay cooped up in there,” the Princess pleaded.

“I like my alone time.”

 “But- but I had games planned! Husk was going to show us how to play Blackjack and Dominoes!”

“I prefer bridge, and he’ll just cheat us anyways.”

She gave a disappointed sigh, and outside the door you could hear Vaggie talking to her, telling Charlie to give you your space. 

For three nights straight you avoided Alastor, finishing up your hotel duties quickly before hiding in your room. You grew bored after the first day admittedly, a person could only sleep and bathe and read so much. The fourth night is when he knocked on your door while you lied draped on your couch, your nose in a book you’d already finished before. Thinking it was Charlie, you ignored it, sure she’d get the message. It insisted however, rapping harder the second time. You sighed, annoyed. “Who is it?”

“Alastor, may I come in?”

A sour taste came in your mouth, “No.”

“You cannot lock yourself away from me forever.” 

You lifted yourself off the couch, full of bitterness, “I can and I will!”

An electric hum filled your ears, the sound of Alastor weighing his words, “Could you at least entertain my attempt?”

Walking to the door and opening it slightly you saw his face, those deep, hooded eyes dark as blood, cracked lips, and hollow cheekbones. All of those beautiful, haunting features draped in remorse. You sighed, cursing the affection you had for him. 

“Fine, but I’m still cross with you.” That made him smile, if only a tad. 

Opening the door fully, you saw he’d brought one of the dining carts from the unused kitchen clad in a clean white sheet. Alastor pushed it to the center of the room before spiritedly ripping the cover from the cart, presenting polished silver dishes of raw meat and organs. From the bottom shelf of it, he had pulled a fine bottle of wine and two shining glasses.

“I helped myself to a bottle of Husk’s finest, the patrons here don’t have as refined tastes as you and I.” He gave a small grin. So this is what he brought with him, a peace offering. Your stomach was empty from only eating a small meal earlier in the day, so perhaps it was not in vain, though you weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive him. 

“I’ll help you set the table,” you offered, feeling guilty he put so much effort into pleasing you. 

Alastor held his hands up, “No need darling.” He put his hand on his throat, “What I said the other day was very…” he coughed into his hand, “ungentlemanly of me, and I wanted to make it up to you.” 

You folded your hands and held them to your chest, looking at the embarrassment he tried to hide. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, and raised your gaze to his. “Thank you, Alastor.” His grin widened as he sat down beside you. 

He uncorked the bottle of wine, beginning to pour it into the glasses, “Of course.” He handed you the glass which you took gladly. The vintage was so dark it looked black, reflecting the lights that glowed from the ceiling. Swishing it, you could see the hidden shades of red that the wine hid.

“Demon’s blood, Husk calls it.” Alastor told you before he took a long sip. 

“Fitting. Do you know how long he’s aged it?” Alastor shrugged, taking another swallow. 

“I didn’t care to ask, but it tastes so good going down. Come, drink, I didn’t bring this up so I could get drunk by myself.” That made you giggle, how much he valued the both of you eating and drinking together. 

Taking his lead, you titled your head back, savoring the warm burn of the wine going down. Its hot fingers lingered in your chest before fading, like drinking cold medicine. In three large gulps you finished your glass, noticing the way Alastor’s eyes watched your throat as you drank. After finishing your second glass you began to dig into the food he’d brought, pancreas tarts, cooked kidneys and…oh good god! On the largest plate was a raw heart, fresh and bloody. 

“Where did you get this? You shouldn’t have!” Your eyes went wide and your mouth began to salivate. A raw heart! Oh and it was human too! Such a fine delicacy must have taken so much begging from Alastor!

“Rosie owed me a favor. And I owe it to you, for making such a jackass of myself.” 

You took another sip of your wine, feeling your face begin to flush. You helped yourself to a tart while Alastor poured himself another glass. As you ate you felt his eyes on you again, focusing on the way your teeth bit into the pastry, your swan’s neck showing your swallow, and how your tongue dragged across your lips. Feeling bold, you placed your feet in his lap and wiped the corner of your mouth with your finger, licking the tip of it with your tongue. He swallowed, hard, his eyes growing wide. 

“Are you looking at something?” Your voice a heavy seduction.

“Possibly.” He drank again. Leaning back on the arm of the couch, he placed his glass on the floor. The tips of his fingers grazed your legs, “Though I do have another question for you, if I may.”

A sultry smirk grew on your face, “That depends on what it is, Al.” God, you could see the glint in his eyes then.

Alastor looked up at you from his hooded eyes, “I’ve been wondering…about your “darling.” You arched an eyebrow; your interest piqued. “Did they ever have…you?” His breath shuddered. 

“Have me, how?” You teased.

“Oh humor me my dear,” He purred

You smirked and shifted your legs in his lap. “Hmm, maybe once or twice…” You sit up from your recline and crawl onto his lap.

“What sorts of things did they do to you?” 

Running your fingers down his chest you savored the way he squirmed and shifted, “All sorts of unholy things” 

Alastor choked on his breath, his eyes transfixed on your face. Slowly, he caught it, regaining a certain boldness afterwards. His hand found the top of your stocking, fingering the nylon taut to your thighs. “Getting rather comfortable aren’t we my dear?”

The smirk you had deepened and you pulled in closer, feeling the heat of his breath tickle your cheeks. You looked into his eyes, “I could get much more comfortable if you like, Al.” For what seemed like ages you lingered, until you felt you had tortured the man enough. Slowly, you leaned in, seemingly ready to kiss his shiny red lips. Grinning, you pulled a piece of dry skin from his bottom lip between your teeth, peeling it to show the bleeding flesh beneath. 

You sat back on his lap and spat out the skin. Looking at him, you saw that hunger in his eyes again. That fine line of decorum the two of you had with one another, ignoring the lingering gazes and longing touches, all thrown away with one bite. Underneath, you could feel his arousal beginning to grow hard. You rolled your hips slightly into him, earning a throaty groan from Alastor. From the silver dining cart you pulled the piece de resistance, that raw bleeding heart, and sunk your teeth into it, tasting the sweet flavor of iron. Trails of blood dripped from your mouth onto your decolletage, slowly turning brown and flaky.

Alastor’s breath heaved, growing even harder from that sultry cannibalistic display. He pulled you towards him and pressed your mouth to his, saccharine saliva mixing with sanguine. His tongue slid and twisted about yours, savoring every inch of its taste. You pulled away from him to catch your breath, making him whine. Leaning in again, he dragged his tongue along your neck, cleaning up the drying strings of blood. 

Both of you straightened up then, him holding you proper now. One hand ran its fingers through his shiny red hair and the other cupped his aching sex, so taut against his trousers. 

“Is that what you were so upset about Al? If they fucked me or not?” You purred into his ear.

The tips of your fingers fluttered over his hip, tracing its edge before returning to his cock. “I bet you wondered if I did this to them, didn’t you?” A small nip was placed on his neck, leaving a red half-moon. Your breath grew hot against his cheek as you whispered into his ear again, 

“Maybe I did, and maybe I did so many more dirty things to them.” 

Alastor enraptured your mouth in another needy kiss. His words heavy with radio static, “What sort of things my dear? Or are you all talk?” Your grin widened seeing the shock in his eyes when you began to unbutton his overcoat.

“Let me show you.”

Four little words was all it took to send him over the edge. Picking you up, his hands traced over all the parts of your succulent body. When he flopped you on the bed, hair as tousled as a pin-up, you reached out a stockinged leg to him, that devious look on your face growing. Oh how badly he wanted to have you, hastily unzipping your dress as you stripped him down to his undershirt and trousers. Deft fingers hooked around the tops of your stockings, pulling them down as fast as they could. You dropped his trousers and took off his shirt, admiring all of that soft, gray skin.

You pressed your mouth to the flesh of his stomach, blessing it with small love-bites that made him shudder. All along his torso you left red patches and traced your cool fingertips along the hard edges where his ribs poked out. You tilted your head up and moved his hands to the straps of your brasserie, exposing all of your hot, yearning flesh. He cupped a breast and lied on top of you. Grinding his sex to yours he moaned into your mouth. It had been so…so long since you���d been wanted, since someone pressed their body to yours and you felt all of their heat as they slid into you, over and over again. 

“Al,” You breathed

“What is it?”

“Get on your back.” 

And so he did. 

Alastor’s back against the mattress and your palms against his chest, you let him enter you. He let out a string of curses when you did, and even more when you started moving in those easy rolling motions. Those large hands of his held the curve of your waist as you rode him, his eyes half-lidded as he watched your breasts bounce. 

“The first time I saw you…” You began, going a little faster, “I wanted you,” You heard a small thud as he dropped his head against the pillows.

“I thought about you kissing me and touching me all over” That’s when the pulses of pleasure started to build up, prickling you in sweet needles that went all the way up your spine.

“And about you sticking your fingers in me and..and your tongue too” You felt your face heat up and your sex grow slicker, admitting those indecent thoughts you only entertained during late nights when your fingers wandered. Alastor gripped your waist tighter, making your rhythm harsher. You looked down on him, his eyes glazed over with euphoria, and felt your mouth pool with saliva.

Digging your nails into the skin of his chest you kept on. “For a whole week I couldn’t keep from slipping my hands between my legs.” Your voice, thick and hoarse. “I wanted to know what you tasted like, if-if your mouth tasted like blood,” that was when he quickened the pace even more. Your sex was so hot and wet, all the way at the base of your spine you could feel your orgasm coming to you, a full-body shiver that made your eyes well with tears. 

The last part was what sent him over the edge though. 

“Sometimes, I’d bite myself so I could taste the blood when I’d touch-” was all it took to make him come. 

Fuck it felt good too. A weak falsetto escaped your mouth when he released, so warm and filling. That’s what made you reach your end too. You clawed your nails in his skin so deep there were two broken half-moons on his chest. Your thighs clenched against his torso, quivering, as you could feel your body become as light and floaty as chiffon. 

Alastor let the both of you ride it out, that sweet joyous bliss. When your mind returned from the heaven it was sent to, you leaned over, resting on top of him. He moved you gently, pressing you closely to his chest. For a while, neither of you spoke, the air lingering with the smell of sweat and blood and sex. You ran your fingers through his hair again; He kissed the back of your hand before speaking. 

“If I’d known all that would come out of making you angry at me, I would’ve earned your ire a long while ago.” You rolled your eyes, flicking his chest playfully. 

“Perhaps we could do this again, without the arguing?” You propose, “You’re quite good at it.” 

A smile stretched across his face as he played with a lock of hair that rested near your face, “Expect nothing less from an overlord of hell cher.” One of his hands slid to your lower back, tracing small circles on that creamy flesh. 

“How about we try one more time without the arguing, for good measure?”

You smirked and kissed him again. All for good measure.

[luxthestrange]

KNY Incorrect quotes#84 Boy was speechless-

Odd...friendship between Soft!Y/n and Sanemi...

Sanemi: Valentine’s Day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than driving people insane buying heart-shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos- Y/n*Looks saddened by his comment...holding a glittery heart-shaped card* I wrote you a poem... Sanemi, already crying* You did?...

Inspired by!:

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Who Dares Summon Me: Human Vaggie & Charlie

Vaggie: (sitting in the living room of a piece of shit apartment and reading from a "demon summoning" book. the sound of gunfire and police sirens barely even registers to her ears anymore)

Vaggie: Okay, so I got the Pentagram, a goat (glances at two goat plushies she stole from a name brand toy store) Fuckers will live..... they make millions in a day.

Vaggie: Candles... (glances at the Bath & Body Works, cinnamon and vanilla scented candles)

Vaggie: And... blood.... uh.... (Looks at the bucket filled with water, corn syrup, red food coloring, and cocoa powder to help create a blood effect) Fuck... demons can tell the difference between real and fake blood, right? Dammit.

Vaggie: (cuts her finger with her pocket knife and lets] a few drops fall into the bucket) There. That should work. Now, let's see-

Lute: (comes out of her room half naked and throws a pair of panties at Vaggie) Yo, Vagina! Adam stole your underwear again as a prank, I guess. Here.

Vaggie: (gawks as she catches the garment and spikes it to the floor) Lute! What the fuck?! Can't you control your fucking boyfriend??? How did he even get into my room?! I keep it locked for that reason.

Lute: (grabs a beer out of the fridge, pops the cap off on the counter, starts chugging, and flips off Vaggie as she returns to her room for whatever round she and Adam are on)

Vaggie: Sick perverted sons of bitches... (turns back to the book) Read the forbidden script and make a pact. (Scoffs) Okay, edge lords. I'll give it a go.

Vaggie: (recites the script with some difficulty)

..........

Vaggie: (relaxes her back against the couch) Can't say I'm surprised. I literally bought this online for six-

-Fire tornado erupts from the Pentagram and burning red eyes stare down at Vaggie from the inferno-

Demon Charlie: WHO dares summon the powerful Princess of Hell- Oh, fuck!!! (Trips over the bucket and falls face first into Vaggie's lap, revealing that she is wearing a red dress with black thigh high stockings)

Vaggie: Jesus Fucking Christ!!!

Demon Charlie: (face still pressed against Vaggie's crotch) You have a very comfortable lap.

Vaggie: (grabs demon's horns and pulls her up so they're sitting in front of each other) You're actually a demon?

Demon Charlie: (blinks) Considering the fact that you're still holding my horns, I have this adorable little tail (waves her heart-shaped tail in hello), and I came straight up from Hell because of your summoning circle. Yup! (Sees the plushies and gasps) Oh! You even gave Razzle and Dazzle their own conduits! You're so sweet!

Vaggie: ...........Who?

Demon Charlie: Razzle and Dazzle! You know. My pets. It's written in chatper six, paragraph five, sentence three. (Snaps her fingers and the two goat plushies turn into two living goat demons with wings)

Vaggie: (scouring the book) What?!

Demon Charlie: (snuggling her boys) Also, I know you had to use a little of your own blood to make this work, which I promise to help heal that cut on your finger by the way, but Thank You So Much for just using fake blood! I always feel so bad when people actually use a bucket of real blood. I usually let my dad take those summonings.

Vaggie: (glances at the bucket rolling across the floor then back to the demon) Y-Youre dad?

Demon Charlie: Lucifer, the King of Hell. (Light bulb goes off) Oh! I never completed my introduction! I'm Charlie Morningstar, Princess of Hell and heir to the throne. Pleased to meet you!

Vaggie: Uh.... Vaggie.... I never would have expected the Princess of Hell to be so..... bubbly....

Demon Charlie: I get that a lot. Now! What can I do for you? How can I help? Do you need money? Power? A soul you'd like for me to devour?

Vaggie: N-No... nothing quite like that....

Demon Charlie: Oh, thank Satan! I hate eating souls. Most of them taste so bad!

Vaggie: Uh-huh.... Well.... I don't really have anything for you. I got bored and decided I'd try this out...

Demon Charlie: (disappointed) Really? But you sold me your virginity. Surely, there's something you want in exchange!

Vaggie: I'm sorry. WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?

Demon Charlie: Drop of virgin blood and (holds up Vaggies lavender panties) an article of clothing that covers your most intimate desire.

Vaggie: (silently screaming)

Demon Charlie: H-Hey! If it makes you feel any better, I'm still a virgin, too! (Under her breath) Not from lack of trying on other asshole's accunts, but still....

Vaggie: Ay, Dios mio!

Demon Charlie: Well, I can't take your payment until you come up with something you want, soooooooo! (Transforms into a human)

Charlie: (snuggles up to Vaggie's side) I'll just have to stay here with you until you come up with something!

Vaggie: (catatonic)

[dallasyt]

Welcome to the best day of the week! Get ready for this week’s YouTube video coming out shortly. I’m testing VIRAL TikTok LIFE HACKS and SPOILER ALERT, it didn’t go well… Stay tuned and check it out.

We post FULL YouTube videos EVERY Wednesday at 11:30 AM and a TON of YouTube Shorts DAILY in between.

Make sure to subscribe to turn on the bell icon to get notfied when we post.

[ennabear]

abby on valentine’s day

palestine masterlist | how you can help

a/n: if you have time to read this, you have time to educate yourself!! do not ignore the genocide happening in gaza!!

❥ she’d 100% stay home from the gym. you’d wake up to her sleepily kissing your neck and cheeks before settling her head right in between your tits.

❥ once you fully wake up, she’ll gently pick you up and carry you to the shower before undressing you and kissing all the way down your body. it takes a lot of willpower for her to not eat you out right then and there.

❥ in the shower she’d be so sweet with you. holding you so close, softly washing your body with her favorite pine soap, kissing and caressing you all over, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. and after that, she’ll wrap you up in her coziest sweatpants and softest hoodie that still smells like her.

❥ for breakfast you’d make those heart shaped cinnamon rolls with pink frosting. abby would “help” you in the kitchen, meaning she’d pester you until they were in the oven, and then sit you on the counter and eat you out like she’s never eaten before.

❥ while you ate your real breakfast, she’d hold your hand the whole time and have a really deep conversation about potentially adopting a new animal (a dog, because she insists).

❥ next, she’ll tell you “stay here, close your eyes, and hold out your hands.” and she’d come back with a small gift and giddily instruct you to unwrap it. the gift contains a new candle and a new book, something simple because she knows you get a little bit emotional when she surprises you.

❥ the rest of the day will be spent with her spoiling you. she’ll take you on a road trip to go window shopping and buy anything and everything you want. she’ll take you out to dinner and let you play whatever music you want on the ride back because you get passenger princess priority.

❥ and last but not least, she’ll fuck you so sweet and deep into the mattress while sucking on your swollen tits, cooing at each one of your pleas and running her hands up and down your body. once you come down from your third orgasm, she’ll draw you a bath and hold you until you’re half asleep and too hazy to put yourself to bed. she gladly carries you back to bed before you fully fall asleep in her big warm arms.

[wroteclassicaly]

Steve is trying to get you as close to cumming as he can, just by kissing your neck and pressing his tongue against yours. Hands all over you and caressing, touching, never stopping.

All of your clothes remained on, layers heavy to match mingled breathing patterns, denim rough against denim, your shirt riding up, nipples hard in your bra from his toned physique squished to the planes of your curves, sliding up and down you in a delicious rhythm. You tasted the cinnamon of his breath spray, the whiskey you’d shared from the bottle - a toast to another year of friendship. When his irises had matched the amber liquid, that’s when your stomach pooled with heat that wasn’t caused from any liquor, a line washed away by some snow storm, a building tension that you had been sure was one sided on your end.

~*~

There’s a slow sax record on the player in the corner, your apartment fireplace crackling, surrounded by the confines of old and chipped tile. Your eyes roll to the ceiling when his calloused thumb rubs that spot he’d marked on your jawline. Heart hammering beneath muscle and bone, threatening to explode running blood like lava, melting your bones into ash. You watch the shape of his back move over yours, reflected with dancing flames, alive on your ceiling. Steve is breathing heavily, kissing his way down your neck and back up your jaw, nudging you until you’re eye level.

Shards of caramel and moss surround midnight lakes of desire, his stubble shrouded lips red and swollen. Every mole and freckle shows just for you. With only one dim lamplight and the orange flames to ignite the room, his expression is glowing, reflected back to you in his eyes. He rolls his hips, the swell between his legs dragging across you in just the right way. There’s a shared nod as he licks his way back into your mouth, tongue damp and sticky, hot and strong.

He pushes, caresses, nose bumping into your eyelashes each time that he changes direction. And that feeling, it’s building in your stomach as he doesn’t stop caressing your face, stroking you as if you’re glass that will break any second - an undiscovered treasure that he’s claimed. It’s all too soft, so achingly devious that you feel it thrumming in your bones, vibrating. You feel Steve Harrington… everywhere.

You didn’t think it could be like this for you. Falling apart from someone’s touch, from their mouth alone? And the fact that it’s Steve’s? Your best-friend and former enemy’s? All he’s done is kiss you and touch your face and neck. Yeah, that’s all.

Steve doesn’t know what I look like when I cum.

He’s about to know what I look like when I cum.

… Rings alarm bells in your brain, that shut off when his voice is a low, raspy whisper, dripping honey. Thick and secretive.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. Just wanna give all of my nights to you.” He gives you, saliva stringing from his mouth to yours, momentary slick noises from your tongues and mouths ceasing. Breaths struggling to catch up.

Your gaze dances with his own, hand shakily lifting from its place on his back to rub across his ear and tuck your fingers through his hair. Feelings have unraveled inside of you. Steve looks like he’s enamored with the emotions of being truly chosen, held and safe within the space of your arms. Right here in this room, on this couch.

His fingers find that space behind your ear, drumming and gliding, and you whine, hips shifting.

“It’s okay, honey. I’m right here. I’ve got you. I feel it just as much as you. You wanna cum for me like this? I wanna cum for you too.”

// Eat me paragraph //

[soiwj]

Pastry Present pt.2

Tasty Treat pt.1

Arlecchino x fem!baker!reader

Part 2 is heree!!! Im writing this one in broad daylight, so if i fuck up structure wise then you have the right to berate me :)

Request/Ask here

Life has been going pretty smoothly lately! Since you started working for the house of the hearth, your wallet has increasingly grown in size. Now that you have some extra mora, you get to spend it on things you want rather than only on things you need. Yet somehow, even when something is to be expensive, you always end up getting it for free, or the mora just somehow ends up in your pocket. You like to think the archons are watching over you that day, but little do you know it's a certain fatui harbinger pulling the strings.

Your relationship with the orphanage owner has increased, too. She invites you for tea in her office at times and always helps you out at your bakery whenever you need it. Yet whenever she does come over, she tends to linger, unbeknownst to you.

It's another beautiful morning as you make your way to the orphanage, box in hand, head held high, and seemingly beeming with happiness. You enter the orphanage, not needing anyone to open the door for you since you've received a key from Arlecchino. You walk to the kitchen, seeing Arlecchino setting up plates and cups. "Good morning, baker." Her sultry voice carries over to the doorframe you're standing in. "Good morning, Arlecchino!" You beam brightly as you skip to the preperation area. Arlecchino has done you a favor by carrying almost all of the boxes, leaving you to carry just one. "I carried all the boxes. Where did that one come from?" She leans against the kitchen counter after finishing setting up the plates and cups. "Oh well it's Timmy's birthday so I thought I'd make him something special," you open the box towards her so she'll see the little heart-shaped cinnamon roll.

"We have a strict meal plan here. We can't just indulge the children whenever we please." Her voice grows stern as she tenses up. Your smile falters, but you quickly recover. "I understand that, but a little treat now and then won't do any harm, right? Besides, it's a special day!" Arlecchino's brows furrow as she walks towards you, looking down at you. "Rules are rules. Consistency is important for these children," her demeanor reminds you of what everyone says about her.

You sigh, your frustration evident. "Arlecchino, I know you care about the kids, but I really think something like this is not gonna disrupt anything. Don't you think they deserve a bit of joy?" You plead with her.

Arle grasps your wrist as she pulls you closer, her frame towering over yours and her face nearing yours. Her eyes narrow as she looks at you. "You think I don't know what's best for them? I've raised and trained these children for years. Discipline and routine are what they need. Not some curdled snack." You look down at the box trying to figure out what she means. The cinnamon roll broke apart on your way to the orphanage. You put quite a lot of effort into making it, seeing it broken like this fills you with disappointment and sadness.

You see no point in arguing with her anymore since there's nothing to gift anyway. "You're right. I shouldn't have questioned your rules. My apologies." Tears fill your eyes as you start walking towards the entrance. "Wait, I didn't mean -" before she can finish the sentence, you've already stepped out of the building.

You're surprised when you get a letter in the mail. You open the envelope seeing a folded pieace of paper and... a picture? You take it out of the envelope, revealing timmy sitting in front of a plate of what looks like your frumbled cinnamon roll put together by force. Although it doesn't look like the most appetizing snack, timmy looks extremely excited in the picture. In the corner, you see a black thumb. You take the letter out of the envelope, surprised Arle did all of this for you.

The letter reads:

Dear,

I am sorry for my behavior today, I shouldn't have been so harsh on you. You are merely trying your best to make the children happy, and I do not want to seem ungrateful of that. I did not mean to upset you with how I spoke about your pastery. Your baking skills are immaculate, and I want to preface that I do not undermine it. I want to let you know that you may give the children treats from time to time, just not too much.

If you have the time this evening, I'd like to have some tea with you in my office.

Your employer friend

Arlecchino

Your mood lifts in a flash. You're thankful for such a wonderful friend. You pick up the picture as you stand, walking towards your fridge. Using a magnet, you stick the picture to the fridge and write the date on its white border.

Part 3 coming soon!!!

Im literally screaming at the lack of romance in this one what the fuck

I PROMISE ILL MAKE THE NEXT ONE REALLY GOOD!!

[heisenberg-simp257]

if it’s not too much trouble; could I request some cute hcs w heisenberg? i love that man so much, he’s rotting my brain out lol <3 I even made some little gear shaped cookies! super yum

The cookies sound so cute! I love this man more than I should as well XD

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Cute Heisenberg Headcanons

-This man acts like a monster, but he's actually a cinnamon roll once you get to know him. Okay, that's not entirely true, but he's definitely not the big bad monster that he acts out to be. He tries his best to put up steel walls and be this tough and scary lord, but he's actually like a little lost puppy.

-He's just too scared to allow others to see it unless they accidentally stumble upon his heart, which is made of flesh, not steel.

-In a relationship, he's like a psycho and you're a warden. You keep Heisenberg in check from getting too out of control. Remember when I said he's like a puppy? He gets all sulky whenever you scold him for getting out of hand.

-Heisenberg is a known hothead, and he's yelled at you before to the point of big fights.

-But he's a big sap when it comes to apologizing. Once he's calmed down and realized he's hurt you, he goes out of his way to show you he's sorry. Flowers, cuddles, and sometimes tears.

-He will allow you to mess around with his hair. Heisenberg actually loves you to put it up in a messy bun when he works.

-No one really knows this, but he's an absolute sucker for sweet things. Loves them. If you ever make anything, he acts like it's meh, but will secretly steal more later.

-Please give this man some much needed hugs, he is absolutely touch-starved. Anything you do, he will lean into it. The cutest part is him being in denial about it. Call him out, and he will turn into a flustered and stuttering mess.

-Loves animals, more than people would guess. You noticed his softness for them when you found him feeding and giving a stray puppy some love.

-Kisses your forehead when he comforts you. But he tends to linger to keep you close. The type to kiss your forehead and then pull you under his chin for a close hug as he rubs your back, continuously kissing your head.

-Big sleep cuddler when he actually sleeps with you instead of staying up all night.

[bananahkim]

I made a tomstar fankid!!! I’m probably a few years late but I do what I want.

Her name is Amor. I noticed that a lot of the Lucitors’ name and/or surname ends with -or(Tom Lucitor, Relicor Lucitor, Wrathmelior Lucitor), plus Star’s cheek marks are hearts so Amor sounds like a good name for her. Amor Lucitor-Butterfly. (Despite Amor being her name she isn’t really interested in love or romance; she can be flirty but that doesn’t mean she likes someone.)

She likes wearing headbands(like her mom), her favorite one being the horned one. Aside from her tiny fangs and pointy ears she doesn’t have a lot of demonic traits due to her having only 1/4 demon blood. She thinks her dad’s horns are cool and that’s why she wears the horned headband all the time.

Looks like a cinnamon roll, can and will kill someone if necessary. She’s really chaotic and violent at times but is very very adorable, which is what makes her dangerous. She’s also interested in macabre things, so it’s no surprise that Janna is her favorite Aunt to hang out with. Also her cheek marks are shaped like a coffin.

She wears braces! She used to have prominent fangs but the royal nanny strongly advised her to wear them so she’d appear more ‘desirable’ to other royals, which she still doesn’t understand.