#made one for my pookie stu

[i-bit-the-dust-it-was-yummy]

[demontonic]

Stu Macher thoughts

its 1am and im just thinking about him

tw: blood, knife kink, mo murder

When you first meet he’s such a dork, I mean that’s what you were into

He thought you were a hot goth mama but you’re lowkey insane and he’s slowly catching on

Stu definitely stole the line “gut you like a fish” from you after he tried scaring you as a prank

He’s so infatuated with you he’d rather hang himself with his intestines before he hurts you in anyway

Once you started dating he was possessive but you beat him by miles, you see him as your sweet boy before knowing about his… hobby.

Billy teases him for the way you baby him but you’re too sharp tongued to let him get by without hurting his pride

He probably wouldn’t have told you in fear of you being disgusted so let’s just say it was an accident

He’s a switch because duh

Worships the ground you walk on so he always puts you first especially in the bed

When he doms, it gets dirty I DONT CARE i just know blood, spit, and cum is soaking the sheets

He has a knife kink duh

Whenever you’re angry he’s definitely a service top or bottom

He thinks you’re so hot when you’re angry, he definitely gives the best head when you are

Very vocal, dirty talk, whimpering, grunting like the whole ensemble

Yall are freaks but obviously he’s still scared to mention the fact he’s a PSYCHO KILLER

You were climbing in his window one night since you couldn’t sleep and it was a weekend

Stu wasn’t in bed so you snuck downstairs and found him and Billy talking about killing Casey

You decided to wait for him in his room, this also gave you time to sit on this information to settle your feelings

Stu went pale upon seeing you since he was carrying the Ghostface costume, freshly covered in blood

He tried to explain and plead with you to not leave him while you say in silence

He was relieved when you said it was kind of enticing to be dating a murderer because it just made him more interesting

You obviously thought about punching her face in for hurting Stu in the first place but you didn’t since you leaped at the first chance to get with him and forgot about her entirely

If anything you respected him for having the balls to get revenge on her

You definitely helped make calls and set some shit up for the murders for your pookie bear

In this scenario lets say you kill Sydney after going ballistic when she starts getting the upper hand

Honestly you were too scared for Stu’s safety to let her run a muck

Okay thats it im really tired but happy kinktober, im sorry im not participating i just have bad motivation to write for a month straight but next year ill prep so im not stressing to meet deadlines! okay heres my masterlist and dont be scared to make requests!

[nine-of-words]

Something Borrowed (Part Two)

M Gargoyle x M Reader

PREVIOUS || STORY TAG || NEXT

Wordcount: 3030

Content Warnings: Discussion of a Breakup

I hope this one is as fun to read as it is to write <3

The shop’s been much more lively this past week.

Not only because prime wedding season is beginning and bringing along with it an expected influx of customers, but at least partially due to you having an ever-present, talkative guest every weekday your shop is open.

You're honestly not used to having company anymore- besides customers, at least. Since Trevor broke up with you and you moved shop, it’s just been you.

But it's… kind of nice, having someone to talk to every now and then that isn’t just making compulsory, transactional chit chat. It’s made it rather hard to wallow in your sadness alone, as has been your mode of operation for months. You barely even mind that your guest is creating a leaf-litter of loose, discarded documents all over your countertop.

Kirby has taken a brief respite from their datapad to watch your work frosting a cake. This client specifically wanted the entire sides of the cake textured with rosettes, so you of course obliged. You turn the stand with one hand when necessary, confidently putting down the flowing lines of buttercream.

"You make that look soooo easy!" They say, grinning. "But if I tried that, there'd be a huge mess, hehe."

“Do you want to give it a try?” You ask, stopping the flow with an elegant flick. “It’s really nothing but some practice.”

“Oooo…” Their eyes light up “I want to, but I don’t want to waste all your product.”

"Oh, nothing to worry about there. If you pipe onto a clean baking sheet, it can go back in the bag after."

After they roll up their sleeves, wash their hands, and you’ve given them a short and simple demonstration, you suddenly have an intensely focused bureau investigator practicing buttercream rosettes by the dozens in your shop while you handle the customers starting to filter in.

“Aaaww, look at that one! It actually looks like a rose, haha!!” They pause and grin widely while they admire their handiwork, a glob of off-white frosting unceremoniously dripping off the piping tip they’re too distracted to pay attention to.

“It does indeed. You picked it up pretty quickly.” You laugh. “Do you want to keep going? There’s plenty of buttercream.”

“Ugh, no I’m good! My arms are already tired! You must have forearms of steel.”

You chortle in response, but any words you were going to say are cut off by the ringtone cutting through the shop.

“Oh, shoot. I guess I should actually do some work huh? This is probably that ex-client of yours I’ve been waiting to call me back.”

Kirby touches their bolo tie before picking up the call, and suddenly both the ringing, followed by their voice, is completely silenced, despite them clearly talking into their device.

You suppose it’s for the best. You at least have a little smile on your face as you scrape the buttercream off the clean parchment paper and back into the piping bag.

“Ohh, was there a little demo going on? That’s so sweet...” One of your regulars that you’re more acquainted with says as she approaches the counter, observing the small rosettes meeting their demise at the end of your spatula. She’s a tall, willowy Aurelian elf woman with dusty mauve streaks in her blonde hair to match the shade of her eyes and the tint of her skin, and a dainty, jeweled septum piercing. “That kind of enthusiasm makes me think of the little ones at the studio.”

“Haha, just a small one. Good morning Devin,” You say in a warm, compulsory greeting. “Any classes today for you?”

“Birthday party,” She nods, a dreamy smile breaking up her gentle features as you place the box containing her order on the counter in front of her. “It’s a full house this afternoon. Pookie and I have our work cut out for us.”

“Well, that sounds delightful. Maybe I’ll have to come by and paint something some time. When you’re less busy.” Devin runs the sip n’ paint pottery studio down the street, so your businesses tend to get quite a bit of synergy from parties and tourists, especially on holidays. It makes sense that you’d form a bit of an acquaintanceship, but it’s a bit embarrassing to think that you barely know her and she’s still the closest thing you’ve made to a friend since moving almost a year ago- at least until a certain bureau investigator forced their way into your life.

“Please do, we’d love to have you. For you, first one’s free as long as it can fit in your hand.”

You smile and nod. You don’t know if you could glaze pottery without thinking of Trevor… So it might take you quite some time yet before you’re ready to visit her shop in return.

“Oh! Before I forget,” Devin digs through her slouchy, beaded bag, and produces a cylindrical aluminum container you already know contains some homegrown loose leaf Rowenian breakfast tea. “My Gran just sent me a big batch, and I wanted to make sure you got some before I spaced and made it all into kombucha.”

“Oh, bless you.” You say and happily grab the container, immediately opening it to smell the fragrant leaves. You immediately are hit by a wave of nostalgia and homesickness for your home village, which as it so happens, is in the same half of the Queen’s Isle that part of Devin’s family is originally from. “I was running low. Let me knock a smidge off the top of your order for that, haha.” 

“Thanks. I’m just so glad you moved onto this street, y’know? It’s so convenient, I used to have to get the party cupcakes catered from clear across the city. And yours are so, so good. They’re way better than the ones we were getting before.”

“Oh, thanks so much! I’m glad. It’s good to be here.” You say, only partially lying. There’s nothing wrong with your shop’s new location… but there are still days you strongly miss your old one. You certainly could’ve done without having your life uprooted.

Devin finishes her transaction and she’s out the door with the box in one hand, waving back with a few fingers wrapped around her keys as the shop bell jingles. 

Not long after, the rush arrives. While you work, you can't help but let your thoughts wander back to that handsome customer from yesterday. You wonder when he'll be back? You need to make some less sweet options to put in the case for when he does…

Soon, it’s been an entire week since you saw your handsome stranger. You’ve begun to wonder if the interaction had even gone as well as you remember. Maybe he wasn’t flirting, but was just being polite? You did serve him bland storebrand coffee out of a cheesy mug your ex made you…

You’re almost ready to start tidying for the day when there’s an order jingle ringing out in your deserted shop. You try not to get your hopes up as you walk over to the screen, like you have several times this week- but then let out a huge heave of a sigh when you see the order details.

Carlyle does eventually intend to return to your shop, if his name popping up in your empty online order queue that evening means anything. And luckily for you, this time it’s with enough time before close to get a little something together for him.

First you handle boxing up his order, then after a brief moment of wrestling with whether you should or not, you relent and pop upstairs to make him a mug of coffee.

You don't have to mentally debate if you'll be giving him the embarrassing sentimental mug with the love hearts this time, though- you pick one of the demure, tasteful marbled beige ones from your regular set instead.

After the coffee has been brewed, you carefully bring the steaming mug downstairs, set it on the counter, and turn to observe your display case with a scathingly critical eye.

Something not too sweet. Still flavorful, though. Not too plain- impressive, but not overly showy…

You finally select one of the orange and red currant scones you made fresh this morning. You have to pick something to start with, and this seems as good enough a baseline as any.

Irresistibly dense and buttery, the slight sweetness of the dough is offset by the bright pop of citrus and the tartness of the berry. It's a humble baked good at heart, but it's a recipe you've made so much that you've nearly perfected it, in your opinion. It makes you think of home every time you make a batch as well, so there's no doubt that there's love baked inside. You’ll simply forgo the jam or cream, to fit his preference.

…You really hope he likes it.

You watch the door and chew your lip. Just when you're concerned the coffee will cool off before he gets here, you see him walk past the window and enter the shop. 

You realize how weird it probably looks- you anxiously standing here wringing your hands and waiting for him- far too late to do anything about it.

"Oh, whew. Hi there. I'm glad there's not some other Carlyle in this city." You quip with a breathy, stress-relieving laugh. "That would've made this very awkward."

"Good evening," He says in his smooth, deep voice, and gives you such a radiant smile that you momentarily feel like you might just faint. "I didn't expect a whole spread."

"I thought you might like some coffee again this time."

“I absolutely would." Carlyle says in an approving tone, but raises an eyebrow when his eyes pass over the mug it’s in. He grasps the handle of the mug anyway, bringing the liquid to his lips for a sip before continuing. “It’s a shame it’s not in my favorite mug this time; it tastes better in that one. But, I’ll manage to survive somehow.”

Favorite… He’s not talking about the old embarrassing gift mug, is he?

"...Favorite?" You audibly repeat.

“Yes, the pink one with all the hearts on it. ‘World’s Best Boyfriend’?”

He is.

You feel your face heat up with the blood rushing to your face, and you fight the conflicting urges to cover your face with your hands or flee the scene completely.

“You… like...  that mug?”

“I do. It’s a great aspiration to have, in my opinion.” You’d think he was taking the piss if he wasn’t clearly being so painfully, genuinely sincere. It’d almost be less embarrassing if he was joking, you think. "Gives me something to work towards.”

"Right. I can… I'll use that one next time, then. If you insist."

Carlyle simply smiles at you from behind the incorrect mug.

You clear your throat.

“Now- I'll have you know I take challenges very seriously,” You say in a forcibly flat voice, trying to regain some of your meager composure. You smirk and motion to the baked treat still sitting on the table. “Whenever you’d like to have a taste.”

Carlyle picks up the scone, inspecting it before finally taking a bite.

You hang on bated breath, trying to not watch his facial expression in an off-putting or intense manner, and most likely failing.

“...I think almost anyone else would enjoy this.” He says after several bites and a long moment of deliberation. “But it’s not for me.”

“Ah. Really? Too sweet?”

“Too sweet.” He confirms. “But the orange is nice.”

“Everyone likes my scones.” You can’t hide the surprised tone from your voice.

“I hope I haven’t upset you.” He says in response, obviously taking your tone to mean you're hurt; but that couldn’t be farther from what’s happening, the gears in your head already trying to come up with a new attempt at a solution. "In my defense, I did try to warn you."

“Upset? Haha, no! Try inspired.” You say with a cheeky grin. “There isn’t a soul on Hearth that hates every single baked good. I refuse to believe it!”

“Is that right?”

“Yes. There has to be something sweet you’ll like, and I’m going to find it.”

"Alright then." He laughs, clearly amused by your enthusiasm. "Would you like more notes for what I’d enjoy or…?"

"No, no-" You start jotting down a few notes of your own on the scratch pad you keep behind the counter. "Figuring this out on my own is half the fun."

To Carlyle's credit, he has the grace to not waste your effort- finishing the whole thing even if it seems to have not been to his tastes. He even insists on paying for the scone, despite you intending on giving it to him for free.

“So, is there something special about Tuesdays?” You casually lean on the counter, trying to ask in a way that doesn’t seem like such overt information gathering.

“After-hours meeting at the law library with the ladies. I’m at the library most evenings honestly, but on Tuesdays we all tend to congregate and tackle some of the larger research tasks together.”

“You know, these must be some lucky ladies,” Better to rip off the bandage now, you think, rather than getting your hopes up and then find out all of this playful flirting has been courtesy from someone with an incompatible orientation. “For you to be buying cupcakes for them every week, haha. Anyone you’re interested in…?”

“No, nothing like that. They’re my colleagues. My department is entirely women the same age as my mother or older.” He says with a chuckle. “Besides me, of course.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely.”

“It has its benefits, it’s sort of like having a bunch of my aunts doting on me at work. On the other hand, they keep trying to set me up with their daughters, daughter’s friends, friend’s daughters, random women off the street… You get the idea.”

“I don’t see why you’d need any help in that area.” The words fly out of your mouth before thinking, and then you internally scold yourself for being so forward. But Carlyle doesn’t seem phased in the least- smirking at you and letting out a breath of a laugh. 

“Hah. Perhaps I could get you to convince them on my behalf, then?” He says, his voice a deep rumble as he takes the pink box containing his order from you. You see a glint of his fangs as he speaks. ”If you feel so strongly on the matter.”  

Though you got to chat for a bit longer this time, it still didn’t feel like enough. As soon as it’s over, you’re already anticipating getting to talk to him again next week, just with a bit of extra glow.

The next morning, you must look as light as you feel, because someone picks up on it right away.

"You know, you seem a little peppier today." Kirby rests their chin on their palm when they’re done taking a call. "Did something good happen?"

You hesitate to immediately spring into gushing about Carlyle. Kirby has been nothing but positive so far, but you've only known them a short time and you worry about scaring off any semblance of a friend you've had lately.

But they're just sitting there, looking at you expectantly, now…

They have told you to tell them everything…

"That guy I told you about before? He came back." You say, unable to hide your giddiness.

“Oooooo! How exciting!”

“I know. I couldn’t have dreamt this man up if I tried. He was somehow even more charming this time. He’s just… so smooth and well put together and he smiles.” You can feel the blood rushing to your face just talking about seeing him again, however briefly. 

“He smiles??? Honey. Everyone smiles! Your ex must’ve been the most boring man on the planet, geez.”

“Maybe a wee bit.” You admit. You do wish Trevor would’ve been more emotive in general, sometimes. You cross your arms, trying to mitigate some of the embarrassment. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you’d have to see it to understand?”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s it, hehehe.” Kirby says, clearly not believing you for a single second.

“And remember how I told you I accidentally gave him that tatty old mug from my ex to use? He asked to use it again, even.”

“Hahaha- Oh wow!! That’s bold!” Kirby giggles. “Did he like the stuff you made?"

"No, he hated it!” You laugh, grinning. “But I'm going to figure him out yet."

"Oh. Well, then-” They cock an eyebrow at you in confusion before swiftly recovering. “Did you ask him out?”

"Uh, no…"

"What? No?" All of Kirby's energy seems to deflate in an instant. "Why not???”

“Good question, I don't know,” You say in a deadpan manner. “Maybe the whole love curse business? It’s a wee bit discouraging for romantic pursuits.”

"Huh? What’s the worst that could happen?”

"I don’t know. …What if…"

"What if???"

"Well, we don't know the extent of the curse yet. What if he explodes like one of the cakes, or… or something worse?"

"Hehehe, he's not a wedding cake!! He's not going to explode!" Kirby wheezes in amusement. "It takes a looooot more juice for a curse to explode a whole person, silly!!"

"Oh, good to know… I think." You find yourself laughing as well at the absurdity and slightly ominous implication of the statement. "I'm a little bit concerned to hear there's a precedent."

"Don’t worry about it! You see a lot of things in my line of work!" They beam mischievously, in the way only someone who is giving unsolicited love advice can. "You should ask him out! I mean, if you're into him, of course. But you really seem like you are, so you should."

"Is it that obvious…?"

"Uuuhhhh… Yes. Super."

"How embarrassing." You groan and hold your forehead with your hand. "If you think so… It sort of seems like tempting fate…"

“Hey, curses can always be broken! You can’t just stop living because something bad might happen.”

"...Right.” You sigh, wishing you could believe them. “I'll keep that in mind."

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