#taffy was the only thing I could think of

[gummywormqueen]

guess who’s clown ass made a baby for their fave crk ship ever + some designs for older licorice and dark choco <33

[r0-boat]

Belial headcannons

I'm in love with him.

Sfw&Nsfw

Sfw

He's a believer that actions speak louder than words. He wrap his arms around you kiss your neck and Write "I love you"on your back.

Belial has a sweet tooth. he canonically likes gummy bears. He asks you to hold out your hand and he puts a taffy on your palm. If you tell him what your favorite candy is he'll have a whole supply of it for when you visit. He has a glass bowl filled with Skittles in his office, which he always replaces after Satan visits.

He is a romantic; like I said before, his love language is actions; he wants to take you out to dinner, where he pushes the chair open for you. And wrap his arm around you and hold you close.

He starts learning ASL from you, but he doesn't use it unless you're around. It's like your secret language :).

You can't talk to him about anything and he will gladly listen, if you ever ask him that if you're bothering him with all this useless information he will just kisses your lips, smiles, gently open your palm writes. "No, I like hearing your voice; I could never get sick of hearing you."

Has really good drawing skills, like really good... Like has a spiral notebook filled with sketches good. He tells you that it's filled with things he finds cute, You look through it together; cats, dogs, Jjyu. His smile only widens when You notice that 1/3 of the sketchbook is drawings dedicated to you.

The Big spoon, This man is tall too. 6 ft He will engulf you with his arms.

His nickname for you is cutie.

He doesn't like when Jjyu is rude to you :(, So he tries to hang out with you (as well as privacy) without him. But it always makes Jjyu very sad so it's a double-edged sword.

Nsfw below

Due to the unfortunate English that this game has when they talk about his kink I think they mean he likes to hear you moan, whimper and gasp underneath you. The cute little noises you make on his cock just does him in.

Cheeky devil, due to his polite and chivalrous nature, You do a double take when he pats his lap just during you to sit down, especially when you see that he has visibly hard.

Belial would probably really like cock warming. Especially when he can hear you whimpering and frustration when he tries to get his paperwork done as your speared on his cock.

Loves to overstimulate you He is addicted to your high-pitched little squeals, your shaky breath and your whippers begging him to stop.

Bullying his cock, pitting that spot that makes you see stars inside you kissing and sucking your nipples All the while playing with you with his fingers, after coming for the fifth time he lifts his head up to see your quivering lip, Your eyes filled the tears, You would burrow out his name grasping at your shoulders. That sight along with the way his name rolled off your tongue broke him. He felt his orgasm hit him like a bus. His mind playing the words 'So Cute.' over and over as his shaking finger tries to write it over and over.

He walked in on Paimon dressing you and nothing but a frilly apron, cat ears and a tail. He shut that door so fast, his cheeks and ears bright red. His breaths heavy and his hand shakes as he puts it up to his face trying to cover his redning face. any longer he would have died of cuteness..F-fuck is his nose bleeding too?! The only one who figured out his weakness was Paimon and having never seen the normally calm and collected Belial reacted that way. Their evil cackling is starting to scare you.

[ataraxiaspainting]

Cupid.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

Synopsis: No matter how much soap is used up, even when the bars are all dissolved in the bathwater and the bottles are empty, you know that from now on all you will be is dirty. You will never be clean again. Never.

Warnings: Yandere themes, heavily implied non-con, past violence, manipulation, and kidnapping.

Word Count: 1k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Memoir #02 [06.12.09] by Maria Pseftoga (feat. May Roosevelt)

I Can’t Handle Change by Roar

A Burning Hill by Mitski

No Surprises by Radiohead

A Pearl by Mitski

Liquid Smooth by Mitski

Six Forty Seven by Instupendo

I Love You Like An Alcoholic by The Taxpayers

Bumblebees Are Out by Jack Stauber’s Micropop

Bathtub by The Front Bottoms

"Now the time has come. I put two bullets in my gun. One for me, and one for you. Oh darling, it will be so beautiful." – Misery (1990)

*~*~*~*

The steam rising feels so thick it nearly suffocates you. That does not stop you from burying yourself further into the water, up to your nose and nearly filling up your ears. No, if anything, the steam makes you want to drown in it so much more. You contemplate putting your entire head under, screaming into the water until no bubbles rise to the surface.

But the demon wearing pale human skin would stop you before your escape attempt is successful. That is what he always does, after all.

Your white wool towel and his gray one is placed on the same rack, on your side. On one of the hooks behind the door are your pajamas, the color of strawberry taffy, and small buttercups on both the top and lower parts of the set. There are twenty-two on the shirt and nineteen on the pants. You know this because you have counted them many, many times before, the first-time being weeks if not months ago, when you thought the worst thing Chrollo could do to you is slap you or ignore you if you ever hit him. If you ever succeeded in that department, with his lightning-fast reflexes. You can only remember being that fortunate enough maybe… a maximum of four times, you think, before you stopped, after your initial fears of him killing you were brushed off, and after your survival instincts adapted to fit this particular situation. 

Rebelling by fighting him is not going to help. You know that it is something ingrained in every human, getting physical in the face of a threat, whether it be a real one or not. However, upon your initial confinement in this place, your primal instinct also urged you to escape. You constantly remind yourself that this is impossible due to the numerous locks on the door and Chrollo's ability to summon a seemingly omnipotent book out of thin air. You are unable to flee, thus your survival instinct must adjust to an alternative strategy. Nevertheless, it fails to do so, prompting you to ultimately confront different adversaries altogether; Chrollo's caresses, presents, and offerings of quality time.

But now seeing where that got you now, you regret not attempting to jump out of his car and run for the hills, not caring if he was behind you or not.

“...” You are silent as you push back further and further until the crown of your head feels the porcelain wall. “...”

Chrollo, in turn at your silence, simply puts some water into his cupped hand, letting his thumb play around in it for a little while before releasing it back from whence it came. “Now, what did we learn today? You don’t plan to be silent the rest of the night, do you dearest?”

You're uncertain about your plans, but one thing you do know is that drowning him in the bathtub is not one of them. Despite your desire to do so, you acknowledge that you wouldn't come out victorious. Presently, you feel apprehensive about what lies ahead. If this isn't the absolute depths to which Chrollo would sink, then what could be?

“...” Your mind wanders at a languid pace, not in a slithering manner, but rather with a slow crawl. It looms menacingly, poised to devour you entirely, leaving you voiceless. To prevent its dreadful consumption, you divert your attention to the objects surrounding you, to anything but the one who holds you captive.

“...If you don’t want to chat now, that is fine,” This time, Chrollo scoops water into his palms and gently pours it over his hair. “You can always do so when we get out.”

The water is still clear, so clear that you can still see the bottom of the bathtub. The salts he put were lavender scented, you think, because something floral is in the steam and the small bits of water that make their way into your nostrils and mouth. There is lemon balm, peppermint, and rose petals floating about too, but one or two of them have clung to your body like seaweed you would accidentally walk near when you went into the ocean’s tides, causing you to squirm to get them off. Chrollo most likely finds this amusing, because he does not think much else of you, does he?

“...” There are seventy-three tiles in all on the bathroom floor that are in plain view, not counting the ones underneath the rugs, the bathtub, cleaning supplies, shelving, and the toilet. “...”

You could recount them again instead of putting water over your head too. “Do you want to do anything related to aftercare aside from this?”

“...” Rather than uttering a word, you choose to count the uncovered tiles on the bathroom floor. “...”

The occurrence can be summed up by a single word: dissociation. To shield you, your mind disentangled the emotional pains from the physical ones, rendering you void of sensation, numb. This was done to prevent you from comprehending the true nature of what transpired, what just happened, when his patience snapped and he tied you to the bed by the wrists, ripping and ripping until–

“...”

You and the devil are side by side. 

“There is no need to repeat what happened today, correct? Then everything will go back to normal. Just hope for your well-being that you remember this.” 

“...I will. I will.” The sound of your voice brings a smile to his face, and he cups a handful of water in his palms.

The liquid flows down from your hair, mimicking a gentle rainfall, only to rebound and retreat to its origin. This rhythmic cycle persists, until unexpectedly, your body surrenders to a state of tranquility, defying the will of your mind. Your head tilts backward, and for a fleeting moment, you feel weightless, as if hovering above the water's surface.

Your mind will now be cleansed of the undesirable side of Chrollo, hopefully ensuring that you never have to witness it again.

[trashmouth-richie]

ᴴᴱᴬᵀᴱᴰ

CHAPTER 2: DOUBLE DOSED

HEATED

≛ modern!eddie x female reader x modern! steve

≛ summary: a week after being stranded on the side of the road with eddie and steve, you finally figure out what you’re going to do. Can the boys agree to what you have planned?

≛ THIS CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE FIC

≛ chapter warnings: MODERN AU, 18+ only I can’t be anymore clear about that, fuckgirl! reader vibes, Steve’s kind of a dickhead, oral m & f receiving and giving, mentions of birth control, reader gets eaten out by a girl, drug use, mention of alcohol, modern themes including texting, snapchat, iced coffee, crumbl cookie lmao etc, no y/n used, readers nickname is taff or taffy (bruh I hate using y/n catch me using any dumb nickname) Eddie picks reader up in a hug, real simpy Eddie behavior.

“I just don’t know Robin,” you explain, pulling literally at your hair from the root, “what should I do?” 

Ever since that day in the back of Wayne’s truck, you hadn’t had a single night of peace. Both Eddie and Steve were blowing up your phone. Begging for your attention. It was flattering at first. Two of Hawkins hottest at your beck and call. Each vying for your undivided, not knowing that they were competing for it. 

“Quit squirming,” Robin says in a huff between your legs, her mouth blossomed red and slick with spit, “I’ve been down here for thirty minutes and you aren’t any closer to coming than when I started.” 

Her apartment was hot and sticky, the oscillating fan on its last leg, and you were both stripped down to nothing to keep cool on your planned girls day in. A day to forget about the boys stressing you out and for Robin to get away from her annoying ex. And just like how it usually happened with her, you ended up snorting lines and making eachother buzz with orgasms. 

“Ugh, sorry,” you say annoyed, leaning up on your elbows to see her pretty face, “I just can’t relax.” 

“Tell me about it,” she says around your puffy clit, the tip of her tongue flicking it like a snake. 

You had made the boys swear to secrecy that they wouldn’t tell a soul about what had happened. But you didn’t promise anything. 

And the moment you had gotten home, you sent a text to Robin explaining every single detail, down to girth and length. 

“I think, you should date them both, try em out, what’s the worst thing that could happen?” 

“You think so?”

“Yeah, now please shut up, you’re taking forever and I’m bored.”

-

The next morning you woke with a smile on your lips. Any turmoil left in your mind on your decision had gone with Robin’s idea. 

The alarm clock on your bedside table illuminated 9:15AM and before even slipping your toes into some slippers, you sent two text messages to two recipients. 

The normal routine of your morning commenced without fail, washing your face, scrubbing your body in the shower, putting on light makeup before making a pot of coffee. 

Eddie arrived first, his motorcycle echoed loud off the parking lot as he backed it into a spot against the sidewalk. His dark curls were honeyed by the sun, a bag of Chinese takeout in one arm and a dozen roses in another. The prettiest dimples displayed on his stupid gorgeous face. 

“Hey beautiful,” he smirked, wrapping you in a hug and kissing your cheek. He smelled like muted cigarettes and bourbon cologne. The creak of his leather jacket echoed in your ears as he lifted you off the ground into a bone crushing hug, making you squeal.

“Sleep well?”

Before you could answer his smile had faded into a scowl when the door swung open and Steve stood at the threshold.  Wielding a pink box of gourmet cookies and two iced coffees, his wire framed Ray Bans pushed into his hair. 

“Munson,” he greeted, nodding to his friend in that jock head jerk. Stepping around him, Steve sets the coffees on the counter and gathers you into a hug, kissing your neck and whispering that he had missed you. 

His golden retriever vibe of tanned skin and forest colored eyes bore through you when he licked his lips. 

You pull away and smile at them. They both look so good but in completely different ways. 

Eddie’s tattoos were peeking out from under the tight white shirt he was wearing, as was a silver chain necklace. 

You were practically drooling to get your lips on his skin again. 

Steve was in light colored shorts and a casual button up, exposing the dusting of chest hair that your fingers ached to be wrapped in. If you had your way you’d take them both right here right now but that’s not what today was about. 

“Why are we both here, baby?” Eddie asks, setting the bouquet and the Chinese food on the counter, pushing away the pink box of treats from his competitor.

“It’s obvious.” Steve says with a smirk pulling on his lips, “she’s gonna let you down easy and go out with me.”  

“Always so cocky,” you tsk, trying not to look at the way his shorts are cinched at the zipper. 

You look between them, big doe whiskey colored eyes stare at you in longing, while the mossy floor ones squinted with a smirk. 

 “We need to talk, and rather me having this conversation twice- I figured we are grown ass adults and can talk about what happened.” 

Eddie nods and crosses his arms, leaning forward to not miss anything you were about to say. Meanwhile Steve leaned a hip into the wall, checking his phone. 

“Before I stroke your egos, you both know you’re hot, so I’m not going to tell you how fucking great that day was.”

“fuck yeah it was,” Steve chimed in, adjusting his length in his shorts. 

Eddie blushed a pretty salmon and shot you a wink. 

“But— I’m not choosing between the two of you, I can’t, ask Robin, I about gave her a brain aneurysm yesterday trying to figure it out.” 

You were the one on the verge of an aneurysm when you came allover her lips but that’s another story. 

“So, we’re gonna do this with no strings, no feelings, just friends hooking up and playing around. Cool?”

Eddie’s eyes fall to the tops of his boots.

“So let me get this straight,” Steve gaped, eyebrows pulled in, “you’re going to go out with the two of us... at the same time?” 

“Yeah, kinda what you do with every hussy in town Harrington.”

Steve’s gears are grinding but Eddie hasn’t said a word. 

“What the fuck Taff?” Steve huffs in annoyance. 

you banter back talking to him like he’s a child, “what’s the matter Harrington, don’t like sharing?”

“Rich boys are used to having their way.” Eddie gloats. 

“Oh fuck off,” he pours, “what about sex? Or is this like a PG thing, eating pizza at Chucke fuckin’ Cheese?” 

You cross your arms, and lick your lips, “oh we’ll be fucking, but not until you’re clean, both of you.” 

Eddie’s eyes finally perk up, he hasn’t been with anyone since last year and he was checked three months ago. 

“Oh come on!” Steve whines, “MaKenna is a virgin, and Blair and  Nicole have only blown Tommy since being with me— no need to fuck anyone else catch my drift?” 

“Sorry Harrington, I’m not risking catching anything and giving it to Eddie because you fundipped your way across campus. Show me you’re clean and it’s game on.” 

He pouts, “Jesus Christ… I’ll even wear a condom, c’mon.. I swear I’m clean.” 

“What the fuck is this 1990? I have an IUD, just get clean and we can do whatever you want.” 

Eddie feels like he has the upper hand for the first time since arriving at your apartment, “W-when does this start, sweetheart?” 

“Right now,” you shrug, “ I know you had to take off work today so I’m yours, see ya tomorrow Stevie.” 

“Such bullshit.” 

“Don’t worry buddy, I’ll take care of her while you’re off swabbing your pee hole,” Eddie says with a wave to his friend,  cockiness in his stance. 

“Be nice, boys.” 

You don’t expect what happens next but Steve grabbed your wrist and twisted you into him, kissing you square on the mouth just as firm as he did in the bed of Wayne’s truck. Rough and giving no grace he leaves you spinning even after he’s left. 

“Text me if you get bored with this one,” he says, licking his bottom lip to get one more taste of you as he walks through the door, “bye.” 

You cross the kitchen to the counter, lips still buzzing from Steve’s kiss. You pull out two forks from the proper drawer and rip some paper towels from the roll. 

Pulling out the white cardboard containers of Chinese food from the plastic sack, you plate them with shaky fingers. The fork in your hand slipping every once in a while and clanging loudly into the ceramic plate. 

“Hungry?” you ask over your shoulder.

“Starving actually,” Eddie says, “but there’s something I wanna do first.” 

You tear open a foil packet of soy sauce between your teeth and squeeze it all over the fried rice, “yeah, and what’s that?” 

Not noticing how close he was to you, his hands rest hotly on either of your hips, fingernails grazing the cotton of your shorts.

In a quick spin, you’re suddenly facing him, fork in one hand, soy sauce packet in the other. His eyes are impossibly dark, and a twist of a smirk lays on his pretty lips. 

“I wanna kiss you.” 

His lips ghost over yours and your tongue reaches for his lips but is met by nothing.

His breath fans across your lips, the sweetest of pouts escapes you, and his adam's apple bobs in his throat, swallowing your annoyance, “not here.” 

His fingers tease the waistband of your shorts, cold steel of his rings icing into your skin, dipping into it with a tentative touch. 

The zipper of his leather jacket bites into your palms as you pull him closer into you, and just like that day on the side of the road, it felt easy with Eddie.

You share the same bated breath as his fingers plunge deeper and push your underwear out of the way.  Between your slick folds he teases at your clit with his middle finger, swallowing the pretty noise you emit. 

“Wanna kiss you here,” he said with a thick fingered flick against your clit making you moan through your teeth but lips,  “need to taste you, again.” 

You moan his name and he helps you wiggle out of your shorts in a hurry. Feeling like you’re possessed at the sight of him dropping to his knees on the cold linoleum of your kitchen floor, like a sinner praying for mercy in a cathedral—you’re practically begging for his tongue where you need it most. 

Two weeks ago you and Eddie were just friends, and now he’s pulling the prettiest noises from you that would make the angels sick with worry,  

His lips kiss your thighs feverishly in his travels. Dark curls tickling against the spit from his sloppy mouth. Every sensation in your body was screaming, and you cursed out loud when he hooked your leg over his shoulder like a guitar strap. 

His eyes didn’t leave yours as he pushed this tongue into your slick, flicking against the hood of your clit, “so fuckin pretty baby, been seeing her in my dream for a week.” 

Nerves wrecked already you’re practically a puddle at his simping words, trying like hell to balance on one foot and carving your nails into the underside of the counter. But Eddie’s face could have held you up alone. 

He’s buried in your pussy. The happiest of graves. Nose, mouth chin- gone. All you can see of him down the plain of your own body are his curls. But you can feel him everywhere. 

Devil's tongue stuffed between your legs, thrashing and lapping up like a mad man starved. His groans vibrate around you and your legs quake. His fingers are pushed deep in the well of your velvet walls, another circling your ass and putting the tiniest bit of pressure there making you cry out. 

His name falls from your lips like a chant, faster and faster until your orgasm peaks and blinds you, your body losing all control from his tongue, your knuckles go white when you grab his hair, holding him right where you need him. 

“Fuck,” he groans, wrapping his lips around your sensitive clit once more before he adjusts your panties back into place. Your fingers ache from the grip you had on the counter and in his locks. 

Kissing the delicate fabric around the apex of your thighs, he whispers softly, “I could do that everyday.” 

He helps you step back into your shorts, that glorious tongue poking out in concentration, and he looks up at you with a shy smile, standing and holding your hands.

“With a tongue like that, I might let you.” 

“Don’t tease me Taffy, I’m still hard.” 

And now it was your turn to be needy. You pull the lapels of his leather jacket into you and you kiss his slick coated lips, he tastes like you and the salty soy sauce that was still on your lip. 

Kissing Eddie was different than Steve, he painted your mouth the same way he lapped at your folds. If you never caught your breath— that would be fine with you. Your head spun around his web and you were tangled in it. 

His hands wrap around your back and one holds your face. It was deeply passionate, and your heart was bursting, your lips move to his neck and you suck and bite a mark into him, and he whimpers when your kisses go small. 

“This is gonna get cold Eddie,” you say against the column of his throat. 

“Let it, I’ll buy more.” 

You grin into his skin and he laughs when you tickle his sides, “c’mon,” you urge. 

And Eddie gets in one last kiss before breaking away, pulling your lip down with his thumb, and you shudder at the way he looks at you as if you’re the only girl on the planet, “if you say so.” 

-

The Chinese needed to be s microwaved but it was still good., The hunan pork was tender and juicy, and the lo mein noodles were to die for. You and Eddie sat side by side on the barstools and talked like you always had. He had a gig this weekend and when he asked if you were coming you said of course you were, a quirk to your brow. 

“Alright,” he said, putting alot of effort and concentration into twirling a noodle with his fork, “just wasn’t sure.” 

You leaned forward and kissed sauce from the corner of his mouth, and your core ached and pulsed at the sight of his boyish grin and blushing cheeks. 

“Wouldn’t miss it, even if it is Steve’s night.” 

He accepted a bite from your fork of fried rice, and almost melted when you held pinched fingers up to his mouth of a ripped piece of crab rangoon. 

“We’re still cool, right?” he asks after crushing the bite between his teeth, his eyes watching you put your fingers in your mouth and nodding. 

“So c-can I ask you something as a friend?” 

His brows are pinched in a furrow and you know he’s uneasy about something. 

You slurp a noodle into your mouth and talk with a mouthful, a hand in front of your face, “spit it out, Munson.” 

His fork clanks on the plate as he sets it down and gives the plate away. He runs a hand through his hair, and leans on his elbows and picks at his rings. 

“So, why— I mean, why the both of us. You and Harrington can’t even stand each other.” 

He was right, before last week you and Steve could barely be in the same room together, and now you were agreeing to fuck with no strings attached. 

“It’s physical with Steve, like pure animalistic instinct. There’s no thoughts, and I think us hating each other just makes it that much better.” 

Eddie’s weight shifts on the stool and his eyes never leave his rings, spinning them in a nervous habit. 

“So you don’t like him like that?” 

And the truth of his question falls through but you refuse to answer it, you have your own questions to ask, you toss the paper napkin onto your plate and mimic his actions, pushing it ahead on the counter. 

“Eddie.. are you jealous?” 

You leaned into him, the pads of your fingers daintily walking up his thigh, your eyes blink slow in a lazy seduction and fuck he’s practically putty in your hands. 

He licks his lips feverishly, suddenly hot around the collar and his heart hammered a rhythm loud enough to make a tune out of it. 

“N-no,” pppft he stammers, “I’m not jealous,” he tries his best not to catch your eye but once he does those hersheys bars give him away and a bubble gum blush tickles his cheeks. He clears his throat with an ahem, and raps his knuckles on the counter. 

You stand and wiggle between his legs, pressing one hand further into his crotch and the other on his chest, toying with his necklace, your finger skating the pick left and right the chain making a zippered like noise. 

“Tell me what you want, baby.” 

Eddie is floored, wilting like a flower— all the oxygen and water ran out from the                                                            √≈petals. His mouth was almost glued shut, it’s so dry, Sahara would be jealous. 

Your lips pucker behind his ear and the filth you’re whispering to him sends shivers down his spine. It’s lust  licked and heavy, want me to touch you, or do you wanna touch me? 

He answers with a dry groan and a swallow, and his hands find your hips spinning you around,his lips ghost over your neck and you throw your head back into him, pushing your ass into him to feel the swell of his bulge in his jeans. 

He’s rutting into your doughy ass, his fat cock loving the friction you’re bouncing against him, you move your hips and grind further into him. 

“Fuck baby,” he moans hot against the shell of your ear, catching in his throat. 

His hands creep under the hem of your shirt and skate against your skin, the smooth of his nails electrifying each touch. They work along your curves, his big thick hands touching every inch of your skin, rubbing along the lacy edge of your maroon bralette. 

The pads of his thumbs graze against your peaked nipples and you exhale. You're surrounded by the sharp spice of his cologne, the muted cigarettes clinging to his jacket, it encompassed you, held you like a hug and had your eyes rolling in the back of your head. 

It felt too good. His lips hummed against your neck, vibrating hot and sending goosebumps along your skin, and you wanted more. Needed more. 

You followed his hands, tracing the veins on the tops of them with your fingers, pushing your palm flat against them, making him squeeze at your tits, and you purred out his name, a shade away from whining. 

Fuck you wanted him so bad. And judging by the firmness of his cock beneath your asscheeks, he wanted you just as badly. 

You spun quickly, grabbing his hands and leading him to the couch, his lips were red from sucking on your neck, bangs were pushed up awkwardly from the position his head was buried into your shoulder. He looked drunk, enamored with something you didn’t recognize.

The leather of his belt was heavy in your fingers as you unraveled it through the buckle and the first loop on his jeans. His eyes never left yours as your fingers flipped the button and pushed his jeans down his hips. 

He shuddered a breath when your hand cupped him in his boxers, the velvet of his skin soft and warm in your soft grip. He was bigger than you remembered, thick like a stout of beer.

“Christ Taff,” he breathed when you stroked him fully, the pad of your finger running over the vein that ran along his cock. 

You looked at him through your lashes as you lowered yourself to the ground, dragging his jeans and boxers with you, “this what you wanted big boy? Wanted me on my knees for you?”

He hums and holds your chin, brushing his thumb across your lips. 

Licking the tip of his thumb, you hold his heavy cock in your hands, stroking his shaft slow then fast, “you’re so big, Eddie.”

He swallows his next words when your tongue circles his head, collecting the precum with each devilish swipe. You stick out your tongue to show him the pearl in your mouth, and he almost combusts when you swallow it with a hum. 

“Yummy.”

He’s certain he’s going to die right here in your living room, looking at you with your pink tongue swirling around his cock, the way your lips suction around him, fuck, you haven’t even put him fully in your mouth yet and he’s a goddamn mess. 

The teasing is too much but he’ll take whatever you give him, if you were to stop now he’d be completely satisfied, he’d have to pump his cock furiously when he got home to make the ache go away but, he’d do it. 

But you don’t stop, fuck no. You’re just getting started. You like him like this, flushed in his cheeks and waiting patiently for your mouth. His mouth opening as yours does. Waiting, pleading, hoping that you would finally let your wet warmth surround him. 

And then you do. 

He stretched your mouth cheek to cheek, a literal mouthful. And he hums. Is he thanking God? You hide your giggle, deciding to take him further into your throat as you hollow your cheeks and slide him deeper with the help of his canting hips. 

You hum around him and it tickles him, but he’s so drunk on your mouth he’s muttering sentences that don’t even make sense. 

Pumping your hands along his shaft you dribble spit from your throat to the head of his dick, a slimy string connecting you mouth, one that you slurp back up and take him in deeper. His knees are bent and he pulled his shirt under his chin, wanting to see you fully with his cock stuffed in your mouth, your pretty eyes are teary and he can feel you gag around him before he pulls out and you come back for more. 

He’s not sure how long you’ve been at this, and he’s trying to keep his mind averted to anything other than your slippery throat and the cute way your eyes are looking up at him. 

This was better than the way you sucked him off in the bed of Wayne’s truck. You were solely focused on him here. No other distractions, just you and him. 

“Look so fucking pretty, baby,” he moaned, reaching down to hold your cheek, his thumb wipes away some of your smudged make up from your eye, “ do you know that?”

You nod with him in your throat, and he breathes more nonsense as he looks to the ceiling and runs his fingers through his hair, trying not to convulse, but he can’t take it any more, you're working his dick like you’re short on rent. 

“Fuck, sweet girl, fuck,” Eddie whines, scrubbing his hands down his face, his stomach burning to give in to you,  I— shit shit shit, ‘m gonna come.”

He works his hips away from you but you wrap your arms around the back of his knees, holding him with his dick still in your mouth, waiting like a kitten for milk.

He cums hard, biting through his bottom lip to keep himself from yelling out loud. You don’t stop bobbing your throat, swirling your tongue, around his length and puckering your lips around him. 

With his load in your mouth you paint his cock with it, moving it around and around with your excess spit, a hurricane against your tornado tongue, you finally swallow, sucking in your cheeks once more, and cleaning Eddie off in one swoop. His cries fill the room and you finally release him with a pop. 

“Jesus, fuck.” He exhales, sleepy eyed. His reddened swollen cock hanging between you both, “c’mere.” 

He helps you to your feet, and you tuck him back into his boxers gently. He mutters an embarrassed thanks, you’re smiling up at him with a cocky little smirk. Completely ready for him to pull up his jeans, maybe get himself a beer from your fridge, but he doesn’t. 

Eddie holds you to him, his forehead leaning on yours, big hands wrapped around the small of your back. His erratic breath plumed through his nose and his chest was beating fast. You’ve never seen him like this, “Eddie?” 

He doesn’t let go, doesn’t say anything, he just moves back to press the lightest of  kisses to the tip of your nose. “You, “ he finally says, licking his lips and rolling his eyes into the back of his head, finally focusing back on you, he pulls you closer, enough that his eyes are all you can see.

But whatever he was going to say is stuck in his throat, he never finishes what he was going to say. Just pulls you into him and holds you there, his lips on your neck, kissing you softly. It was a perfect day. You should have known it wouldn’t have been weird between you and Eddie, falling back into sync as best friends and laughing while snacking on m&m’s and smoking from his dab pen. 

You end up falling asleep on your bed together, tired from exerting so much energy and bellies full of Chinese. Netflix asks, are you still watching YOU? on the tv on your dresser. Eddie’s tossing and turning wakes you and you grab your phone to check the time. 5 o’clock. Taking an almost four  hour nap, but in reality it felt like four days straight. 

But that's not the only surprising thing on your phone. 

A litter of texts. From the same occupant. The other half of this agreement. 

hope you enjoyed, seems like Steve isn’t too thrilled right?

♡tag list: @dashingdeb16 @emxxblog @mopeymopeymouse @pretendthisnameisclever @mommybaby-witch @eddies-acousticguitar

@tlclick73 @figmentofquinn @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @whenshelanded @micheledawn1975 @3rd-conchord * @leelei1980 @mopeymopeymouse @browneyes8288 @emilyslutface @mmunson86 @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiesxangel @elegantkoalapaper * @str4ngergirlw0rld * @corrodedcoffincumslut @nailbatanddungeon @crybabyddl @zenathebeautiful @astela17 @taintedcigs @bettyfrommars @munsonsuccubus @munson-blurbs @hollandweather @serasvictoria @steviesgrl @sweetsweetjellybean @curiositydooropened @ashyyboyy @urlbitchin @sllooney @lame0o @ali-r3n @bangaveragewhitewine

[eldritch-spouse]

Livius, my laffy-taffy, how do you wear this thing? Also, I'm stuck.

*Tangled up in Livius' outfit*

The demonlord gulps, deliberately muffling his actual reaction to you not only practically naked but also tangled, tied in his own rubbery outfit.

He's not sure what possessed you to attempt to put on one of his spares, but to see you exhibit a similar drive to embody the few concrete parts of his identity makes Livius inwardly explode with all sorts of fireworks that ricochet off his neurons and rattle in his skull.

" Ohhh my little giggle-gum- You can't wear that! " He says, looking at the way your bare breasts are blatantly on display.

The demonlord hunches and wiggles his fingers before starting to tug and pull at the twisted ends of the outfit, righting it as much as he can on your figure.

Given the outfit itself is extremely elastic and rubbery in nature, some parts of it do fit on you, but he can tell immediately they're extremely constricting and might cut off blood flow. Not to mention the glaring, blaring fact that the flap that descends from the neck piece can't even begin to cover your gorgeous tits. It wasn't designed for someone with breasts, after all.

Livius hums as he thinks about honestly letting you out in this state, watching your nipples pebble in the air. That's something he could see Vesper allowing, honestly. But no. Too many eyes on you. Too much scrutiny- Oh, but the envy! The desire, the jealousy of the crowds he could feed on!!

Tempting. Very very very tempting...

But no.

" Hmmm- I'd say we're missing a crucial piece here, dizzy-doodle... "

Livius uses his two large hands to cover your chest, indexes over your nipples, giggling at the sight.

Then, one digit pokes your forehead, forcing you to lean back until you fall onto the bed behind you.

" We'll figure something out, won't we? "

(I liked the idea, so here's a concept of what a vaguely adapted version of his outfit could look on one specific body type.)

[luveline]

ok so i’ve been thinking about a line in one of your steve zombie au drabbles where steve says something along the lines of “you only stop taking to me when you’re mad” . Maybe we could get a fic where they get in a fight and that happens? i love your writing so much 🫶🏼

thank you for your request ♥ steve zombie!au ♥ I am not good at writing fights so I did them making up! fem!reader 1.2k

The silence is icy cool. You look up at your bedroom ceiling and its small yellow line of water damage and blink. You haven't cried since your argument, though you've felt like you could a couple of times. 

It's the longest gap of quiet you've had with each other in a long time. Not counting when you're asleep, you and Steve talk a lot, and when you're sleeping you're touching, so it doesn't feel like you aren't talking. 

Now you're both straight in bed, on your backs, hands close but not touching. Not talking.

The window is open, springtime air infiltrating the room. It smells like the wet mulch of sycamore leaves, chilling your skin uncomfortably. You cover your chest with your arms. 

"You want me to close the window?" Steve whispers. 

Your words feel like mush in the back of your throat. You worry you'll cry if you speak. 

Fuck, you hate fighting with Steve. It's a great thing to communicate with one another, and you're good at it — you'd spent a long time learning to get along. Love makes it easier to forgive infractions, but fights still happen. 

It's the possible consequences of a fight that freeze you up. 

Steve says your name softly. "Come on, don't give me the silent treatment." 

"I'm sorry," you say genuinely, your voice all stuck together like you've swallowed a big lump of taffy, "I don't mean to." 

"I know. I'll close it, okay? It's…" He stands up. "Cold." He sighs. 

You're still mad. You're upset by some of the things he'd said. Underneath that is a searing, unquenchable thought. What if he dies tomorrow and you wasted tonight being mad? What if he gets bit? Shot? Has an aneurysm? You want to stop being mad but anger doesn't work like that. You can't will it away. 

Steve closes the window. The frame plunks. You turn your head to watch him climb back into bed, and, buoyed by your looking, Steve slides in on his side and meets you head on. He smells like hand soap and the low hum of a day's worth of sweat. It isn't the worst smell in the world —you're used to far worse— and you kind of like it. You tilt your head toward his and breathe in sync. 

"I was wrong when I said you were being selfish," he says quietly. "When you explained it to me, I got it. But I really would be happier if you tried to keep the room clean."

"I'm sorry," you say again. 

You try not to fall back into the defensiveness you'd felt earlier. You'd taken your insecurity in yourself and projected it on your relationship.

Steve waits. 

"I didn't realise you were cleaning up after me so much." 

He puts his hand on your hip, a warm handprint seeping into your skin. "I don't really mind cleaning up after you," he says sheepishly. 

He shouldn't have to, though.

You're being honest, you hadn't noticed that he was keeping things in certain places, organising your stuff, turning your tiny room into a clean, safe space for the both of you. But when he'd tried to tell you, you'd gotten defensive, and he's quick to frustration, and tada, your first fight in the loved up months had occurred. 

You don't know what to say. You don't really want to talk, your body focused almost completely on the shape of his palm where it presses into you. 

"Just talk to me," Steve says. 

"I don't know what to say." 

"Say anything," he encourages, his hand travelling under your t-shirt to squeeze at the naked skin under your chest. 

"I don't want to fight again." 

"Then we won't." Steve bursts forward and kisses you. Despite its sudden nature it's a soft thing, close-mouthed. He pecks you twice and breathes a sigh against your lips. His hair brushes over your cheek so lightly it tickles. 

"I shouldn't have said you were selfish. I'm sorry, baby." 

He'd actually called you a selfish asshole, which had hurt a shocking amount. Name-calling isn't really a thing you guys do anymore, and it had surprised you, but… 

"I think I deserved it for brushing you off. For not noticing how much you do in here," you murmur. 

"We've haven't talked about it before, I don't blame you for not taking it seriously." His hand moves to the small of your back. He pulls you in, and only after he's closed the gap between you does he ask, "Can we stop fighting?" 

"You're not still mad?" you ask. 

"Not really. Are you?" 

You wrap your arms around him. "Maybe a little," you admit. "I don't think it's your fault, though. I don't know." 

"Be mad if you want. Have space if you need it, even if it's gonna drive me crazy, but please don't stop talking to me." 

His voice sounds uncharacteristically small. 

It might be silly, but any anger you'd been holding onto dissipates just like that. You tuck your face into the nook over his shoulder, fingers splayed over his back. You kiss his neck gently. 

"Stevie," you mumble. "Sorry. I'm not mad, okay? Are– are you?" 

"I just told you I'm not." 

"I know, but sometimes I think you'll tell me what I want to hear." 

Not to be full of yourself, but you know Steve loves you. It makes a lot of things easier, most things in fact, but it makes understanding how he's feeling in moments like this harder. You both want to sweep it under the rug and be sweet on one another again, but avoiding the issue will only make it bigger. 

"What do you want to hear?" he asks lightly. 

"Steve." You laugh, rubbing the tip of your nose against the neckline of his shirt. It pulls. 

"I'm not mad. I think all the mad kind of went away after I called you an asshole. Which I'm sorry for." 

"You've called me worse." 

"I'm sorry for that, too." 

You drop your head back on the pillow to get a good look at him, locking your gaze onto his. His eyes look very dark in the dim light of the room. The sun is setting quickly. Soon, it'll be night time. 

"So we're both sorry," you say, twisting a piece of his hair around your finger. "And I'm not gonna stop talking to you. You couldn't make me. You could break up with me and I'd still follow you around asking stupid questions." 

He tries not to smile. A laugh bubbles between his lips, and it's like the sun comes out right there in your tiny dorm room in Michigan. 

"Shit, I love you," he says. 

You push his chin up to kiss the underside of his jaw. "I love you too." 

[brittle-doughie]

Welcome Back, Handycookie.

Here’s some Context for y’all unaware

Whistling as you went about sweeping and mopping the floors after a long day, you head to where the lockers were for a nice drink to really cool down after your efforts at the sauna today.

Until you received a notification on your phone.

Croissant Cookie: “Yo, best buddy! The TBD is back in action! Come on over and say hello to everyone again!”

Oh, the TBD was back on? Well, you’ll just text Croissant that you’ll be on your way on the train to the department. You wondered if your workspace was untouched…until another phone buzz shook you out of your buzz.

Timekeeper Cookie: “I hate to be kept waiting. You’re coming now.”

Before Timekeeper pulled you through the e phone and out the other side at the TBD.

“Welcome back, my lovely handycookie. How was your break?”

You much preferred NOT being brought here by one of Timekeeper’s bizarre abilities. What was Sauna Egg going to think of your sudden disappearance?

“Forget about him, you’re right back where you belong! Croissant Cookie even took the liberty of tidying up your place before your arrival! Although, she was snooping around in the meantime….”

Croissant was what?

“Oh nothing. With the restructuring of the department back to code, I just couldn’t wait to have you back here! You are the only thing keeping me from being bored out of my mind.”

“Don’t let me keep you waiting though, head to your space. I look forward to having you back under my watch~”

And just like that, Timekeeper was gone. Alright…you headed to where your workspace was at usually and thank goodness it remained mostly unchanged.

“Ooh! Is that Y/N Cookie?”

“Yes, it’s them…”

“Oh oh! Y/N Cookie! Over here!”

You turn your attention back out the hallway to see two cookies approaching you. One was pretty unfamiliar to you and the other being Marble Bread Cookie.

“Hey, Y/N Cookie…”

“Hello to you, Y/N Cookie! We meet at last! I’m Schneeball Cookie, from the Relic Management Division! You know that division, right? My coworker Maple Taffy Cookie is also there?”

Oh right. How could you ever forget such a cookie like Maple Taffy Cookie…

“It’s a pleasure to have been recognized and given a promotion. It means you’ll be seeing me much more often! Marble Bread Cookie too!”

“I got the memo too. I don’t like the thought of more work, but i can’t really reject a potential pay increase…and seeing you more often I guess….”

These two? Odd, thought Maple Taffy or maybe even…Dark Fondue Cookie would get the promotion more likely.

Croissant Cookie opens the door to your workspace suddenly, making you jump a little!

“You kept me waiting a bit, pal! It’s going to be so awesome to be working together again! Oh, it’s Schneeball and Marble Danish Cookie! I see you’ve met my best friend here!“

Well, it’s good to be working at the TBD again.

Though you did want to ask why Croissant is hiding your TBD uniform behind her back?

[jackmanbj]

sweet girls

jack wasn’t home yet, he was on his way back from his studio and you’re cavings were up high. you wanted pickles and hot fries, but all you could think about was sweets, so you called jack

“hello? baby everything ok?” “huh oh yea j, but can you stop at the store and get me some candy?” “baby..you know the doctor told you to cut back on the sweets, i dont think i should..” “jackk is the doctor holding the baby or am i ?” “okay damn, what do you even want from the store” “pop rocks, gum, gummies, nerds, lollipops, laffy ta-” “okay forget it you’re not getting all that, pick 2 things” “jjj its for the baby” “mhm 2 things” “ugh fine gummies and laffy taffys.” “mk ill be there soon”

without another word you hung up, you knew he was looking out for you and the baby but you were still mad because you knew what was best for your body being as though you were the pregnant one, but jack didnt care. and even though you had your own car and money, jack hasn’t let you drive since even before you get pregnant and hes been extremely strict on the rule since you got pregnant.

even though jack hated you driving and he had your location, you still thought about sneaking out once he was back and asleep or in the shower, you were getting lost in your thought thinking about how to sneak out until you heard the front door open snapping you out of it.

“y/n? baby im home” you ran to jack kissing him and taking out your candy running back to your favorite spot, the sofa “damn i cant even get a hello?” you sided eyed him “no” you said eating your candy “whatever baby, im going take a shower” and you ignored him

you thought about sneaking out while he was in the shower but just thought about waiting till he was asleep so you could know he wasnt goin to see you eating the snacks

after about 35 minutes jack finally came out the shower his hair still damp as he walked over to you “hey baby” he said rubbing your bump you looked at him and walked away

he stood there confused until realizing it was probably about the candy “baby girl..you know i love you but you cannot have all those sweets, so stop acting like that.” he walked up to you trying to take your face into his hands but you just looked and walked away

jack just sighed and looked at you picking you up “come on, bedtime.” as much as you wanted to kick and scream for him to put you down, you didnt want to give him any kind of reaction

jack sat you down in the bed and went to the bathroom to run you water for a bath you got on your phone and laid down already knowing he was going to come back and get you, which he did.

“come on baby, i know you’re pissed but im still gon take care of you” jack lifted you up and brought you to the bathtub that had bubbles, candles, and your ipad with a movie on

“mm thank you”

“you’re welcome sweet girl, you done ignoring me?” you looked at him and looked back at your movie, he chuckled and left the room to go put new sheets on the bed coming back to check on you after a few minutes and helped you out the tub

once you were back in the bedroom in new sheets he put some lotion on you and his hoodie and gave you some boxers

you laid down and faked sleep till you realized he was asleep, you carefully got out of bed and snuck a pillow right were you were so he wouldn’t wake up form him not having you there

you left out the house in your pink G Waggon that hasn’t been used in about 7 months other then you just sitting in it, you left the house and quickly ran to the store getting all the snacks you originally wanted and more

when you got home you went to check ok jack who was wide awake on his phone you quickly closed the door hoping he didnt see you

you had two full bags of candy, jack walked out the room and took the candy bad out of your hand “what did i tell you ?” “jackk please im sorry i just want my candy !” “uhm no, you’ll get two pieces of candy everyday till its all gone, because not only did you go out and get the candy you aren’t supposed to be eating, you also drove alone and at night” “ugh i fucking hate you” “mhm go get in the bed” jack waited for you to close the door when he heard a loud slam, he was trying ti be patient but the slam was his final straw, he hid the bags of candy and walked up to the room

“y/n. why the fuck are you slamming my damn doors?” you looked at him and rolled your eyes. he sighed pulling your phone out of your hand and asking “why. the fuck. are you slamming my doors. when you don’t pay a single bill?”

jack never got this mad unless he was really upset and ready to go off so you decided to finally give and apologize

“mm i’m sorry baby, i just really wanted that candy i didn’t know you were going to wake up and i’m sorry about the door i was just upset cause you took my candy.. i love you baby boy”

“mm i love you to” jack gave you back your phone and you quickly put it on the charger and cuddle into jack “goodnight ma..” “goodnight j”

[rustedhearts]

listening to 'asleep' by the smiths

tw: child loss

"do you think it'll be sunny all the time?"

"hmm...the occasional rainy day might be nice."

"mm. i like rain."

on the muted floral colors of your pillowcase, steve turns his head. hair whooshing with the gentle shift, splaying out in hazelnut colors. the green of his sweatshirt has faded in the wash, blown soft by the wind on the drying line outside the window. overhead, it blares the orange and yellow light of mid-afternoon.

he's looking at you, eyes flicking over your profile. "yeah...me too"

there's an old water stain on the ceiling that steve once said is shaped like an elephant. you think it just looks more like a blob. but you have been staring at it above your bed for far too many years.

"it's nice," you whisper, trying not to give into his peering.

steve continues anyway, letting his cheek touch the flattened pillow. your bedsheets are rumpled between your bodies, cushioning yesterday's clothes. you never changed when you came home. couldn't get past the bed.

"yeah...it is," he agrees just as quietly.

his finger enters the plain of your palm, grazing the skin so delicately that it tickles. you twitch at the touch, a smile ghosting over your mouth. he wants to capture it—this moment—in a photograph and paste it on the old wallpapered wall. in this tiny trailer, where you'd spent your youth, where you shared a home. where you dreamed of worlds outside of the one the pair of you were continually stuck in.

"how would we go?"

"a plane. a plane with the fanciest seats and all the roasted peanuts you want. and they hand out free headsets and airplane pillows."

you let your eyes flutter closed, humming again. "layover?"

steve swallows, and against the stiff quiet of the room, it echoes. a dog barks somewhere, a few rows away. children scuttle and chatter. it's saturday, and there are much better things to do.

you never knew fridays could be capable of what yesterday was.

"one," steve replies, still running circles over your palm. "texas."

your lips wiggle into another half-grin. closing your eyes makes you tired, and the room feels warm. regaining circulation, losing blood—it fatigues.

"that's out of the way."

steve shrugs, though you can't see it. he can't stop looking at you. he's worried if he stops, you'll disappear. he's always worried you'll disappear.

"just a little fun. it lasts a day, and we'll go to the rodeo. get an iced tea for the flight home."

"an iced tea," you marvel breathily.

steve swallows again. it clicks and sizzles down his throat. he swallows a lot when he feels tears coming on. your nostrils flare with the onset of your own.

"yeah," he agrees, mumbling now. "with all the sugar you want."

"l-lemons?"

"lemons, too."

snapping your eyes open, you flick your head over and bump into his nose. he shuffles closer, nuzzling the tips of them together. the breath he releases seems needed. your hands claps together between your sandwiched bodies.

almost twenty-four hours since you left the clinic. hours of collecting bedsores between waddled and winced trips to the bathroom. not once in those long, taffy-pulled hours did you cry.

but here they are, those inevitable tears.

"you th-think she'll have l-lemons, too?" you whimper, lip wobbling.

steve presses his forehead against your own. when his eyes close, they squeeze free hot tears.

"y-yeah, honey. she lives in a world full of lemons."

you sniffle and sink further into his soft and colorful clothes. "good. she liked lemons."

his thumb catches a tear beading down your cheek blindly. "yeah, she did."

for three weeks after the first test, all you did was drink iced tea with lemons.

it might be silly to think that in heaven, god gives away something so small, but one could only hope.

[untitled5071]

Writing request where Lisa does get sent to a psych ward.

Thinking a little angsty there, huh? I hope you don't mind the direction I took it, I just couldn't resist. I hope you enjoy!

Tw: allusions to suicide

🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦

Lisa hadn’t spoken in a week and a half, and it was doubtful that she ever would again. 

The last words she had said had been desperate pleas for help, screamed at the top of her lungs in the hopes that someone, living or dead, would come to her rescue as she was dragged towards the transport van for Serenity Manor. But no such help came; her father had only watched her be dragged away with sad eyes, and her wicked stepmother was smirking, eyes flashing and victorious. Taffy was at cheer practice, and her absence meant the loss of Lisa’s last line of defense. 

It had all been Janet’s doing; after Lisa smashed the bathroom mirror, she had decided that enough was enough and pulled her influences in the hospital to get her admitted to the psych ward, citing incidents of Lisa being a dangerous, reclusive vandal and needing residential treatment. Lisa didn’t even have time to protest her case before the guards had pulled up to the front door immediately after she returned from her shift at Wayne’s, and she suddenly found herself being wrestled into the white vehicle for the whole nosy neighborhood to watch. 

And watch they did; the last thing she saw before the car doors closed on her was the sea of Brookview citizens, all staring with wide eyes and harsh whispers as the Swallows girl got taken away “like she should have from the beginning”. 

And then her world was dark, and it didn’t get much brighter when they arrived at the facility. 

She was silent through the entire registration and rooming process. Janet had clearly been chomping at the bit to get her out of the house so most of it had been done for her ahead of time, but she refused to speak as they handed her a new, dull grey set of linen clothes to change into, cut her nails so she couldn’t scratch herself, and fitted her with special socks, ones meant to keep her from falling or running away too fast. 

She knew, in some deep, long locked away corner of her mind that she should be fighting, be protesting, standing up against this, but the voice of outrage was drowned out by the tidal wave of hopelessness that swelled inside her and refused to subside, nearly drowning her as they led her down the hall by her arm. . 

Her room was a bland thing with whitewashed walls, bars on the windows and a bed too low to the ground to hurt herself on or with, and as the attendants closed the door for “lights out” oh her first night she hadn’t even bothered to make it to the stained mattress; she just sank down onto the floor where she was standing and cried soundlessly. 

The routine hadn’t deviated much from that in the coming days, nor would it for the foreseeable future. 

Though she got out of bed when they told her, she hardly woke up; she ate her tasteless food without blinking, she sat in the recreation areas during the several hours of unstructured time they were given and stared ahead, waiting for the attendants to usher her to the next bought of mindlessness. She didn’t chat with the other patients, she didn’t answer the nurse’s questions with anything more than a miniscule nod or head shake when asked about her basic needs. 

She had overheard Taffy call her a zombie once, on the phone with her friends a few months after she moved into Janet’s house. 

She was most of the way there. Only one thing left to do, but the facility had made it impossible to complete the last step. Damn them. 

Speaking of Taffy, she visited as often as she could. Janet wouldn’t set foot in the place, and her father had stopped by once before making a hasty exit once he realized his daughter was back to being mute, but Taffy cut school and snuck over every other day. She was a welcome pop of color against the drab landscape of Lisa’s mind, though she did notice the dark circles under her eyes and the occasional flinch when far-off doors slammed. 

Her voice was more subdued as she whispered to Lisa about how many arguments she was having with her mother for Lisa’s sake, trying to bring her home and apologizing for not being able to say goodbye. She brought Lisa things, when she could; the photo of her mother, a tape player that got confiscated immediately, and posters from her bedroom with the corners ripped, which told her what she already knew. 

She was being erased. Janet was tearing up her room and throwing out everything she still clung to from the Before times, and even if she made it out of this goddamned cell then she would have nowhere to go, no one to miss her since to them, she was already gone. 

She might as well have been, for all the good living was doing her. 

She only felt remotely like herself at night, when she was able to lay on her back with her arms crossed like she was laying in her coffin, and dream. She lost herself in the labyrinth of her mind, thinking of her mother and how sheltered she had felt in her arms, writing new poetry that now went a few shades darker than ‘pitch black, and of Bachelor’s and her favorite grave. 

She hoped he missed her. At least then someone would. 

It was on one of these nights when the storm started, flashes of green lighting up her peripheries as she counted the spaces in between thunderclaps like her mom had taught her to when she was five. She was imagining winged figures getting strikes and spares when her imaginings were interrupted by another peal of thunder, this one sounding dangerously close by. 

She pulled herself out of her imagings so she could watch the following bolt of lightning, and in doing so she ended up locking eyes with the figure looming above her, their face completely obscured by a massive pile of mud and roots. 

Thunder boomed, and the being leaned closer, reaching out a hand to her and groaning. 

The next flash of unnatural green lightning perfectly illuminated her horrified face, and the thunder drowned out the sound of her scream. 

🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦

Lisa’s eyes shot open and she lay in bed panting as sweat pooled under her bangs, seemingly unable to move. She was breathing so hard that she was afraid her lungs were going to expand out her chest, and it took her several minutes both to calm down and realize where she was. 

She was in her bedroom, her wax carvings still on the walls around her in poetic fragments, her dark comforter was tangled around her legs and the bright red numbers on her digital bedside clock read 2:47. 

Her breathing started to come easier as her eyes fluttered closed in relief; she was okay. Janet was dead, she hadn’t been admitted, she was still in her room, still with-

A gentle touch on her arm made her startle, and she opened her eyes to see the figure of a man looming over her, the same one from her nightmare and yet distinctly different. Despite herself, she tensed, her sleep and adrenaline-addled brain warning her of danger and telling her to run before the figure was retreating slightly, leaning over to the other end of the bed. Her lamp flickered on and in the soft yellow light she could see her corpse companion, his eyes wide and brow furrowed in concern. 

She looked at him in the light, saw Janet’s earring shining in his left ear and the green stitches on the wrist of the hand that was hovering between them, saw his dark eye circles, the pink floral nightgown she had given him and the worried dip of his mouth, and she sighed shakily, the pressure in her chest alleviating. 

He groaned at her, clearly trying to ask what was wrong and if she was okay, but his ability to speak still hadn’t returned to him. She understood him perfectly though, and she grabbed his hand and squeezed it while she ran her fingers through her hair. 

“It’s alright, I’m okay. Just a nightmare, that’s all. They haven’t been that realistic since my mom died. It just rattled me a bit, I guess.”

He hummed in sympathetic understanding, and his eyes flickered with uncertainty. She tilted her head at him as he took a breath, making a decision before reaching out with his other hand, eyebrows lifted in a way that clearly said, ‘May I?’

She nodded, her heart skipping a beat as he pulled her to him, running his hands up and down her back and arms as he rested his chin on her hair, her head tucked neatly into his chest. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, the air hitching in her lungs as it escaped. Her undead partner began to hum quietly above her, the sound echoing around his empty chest, and she cuddled closer. 

She felt him squeeze her tighter in a comforting and protective way, and the last remnants of her fear melted away. 

How could she have ever been afraid of him?

[skyeblue8]

ｴ𝜏 ㆜σσƙ 𝓐 ᗯԋιɬҽ, ẞᥙ𝜏 Ԋҽɾҽ'ട ㆜ԋҽ Gɬᥙ𝜏𝜏σɳყ Ꮢιɳց ~ 🍭

-> First things first, for whatever reason there is no yellow font options on this site, so I'm just gonna be using orange and pink to make these headcanons look more distinguished. And secondly, sorry for the long time delay, but with school starting back up & a new flare up of profound mental issues, I haven't been keeping up as much as I wanted. But I'm here now, so let's get started! Okay? Okay.

°。°。°。°。°。 °•. ✿ .•° 。°。°。°。°。°

Gluttony's Environment:

🍭 Okay, to tell y'all the truth, I honestly think a lot of the canon visuals for the Gluttony Ring already fit to world perfectly as is. Well most of them, anyway:

🍭 In terms of the whole Beehive/70's American decor theme, I actually like it as it fits the whole Beelzebub style as well as highlights a time in history where people liked to party and overindulge in a crackload of drugs/alcohol/etc.

🍭 And, upon further inspection of the background, I like the idea of the Ring essentially being consumed in a whole dome that's prone to color changing depending on Queen Bee's emotions and/or the change in the time of day. Depending on which is in more effect at the time.

🍭 My main issues really come down to more minute things like the color scheme and the plant life in this Ring, as a lot of it is too green and... earthly. For the general color scheme, I'd only headcanon it to be yellow/gold, black, and hot pink with some orange for the sunset vibe. Not much of change, though I feel it highlights the Bee/bug theme better.

🍭 As for the plant life, I think it clearly makes sense to have the Ring be flourishing with it for distinction purposes, to highlight the food/producer aspect, and of course, because of the insect citizens here. To make it more native to Hell, though, I think the plants themselves should have a wide range of variety from inanimate, to partially sentient, to full on talking and communicating.

🍭Take the plants in the canon Sloth Ring, and the talking plant in LGSOH or Stolas' plants...

🍭 Almost all of the sentient plants are carnivorous in some way, and while there are a few domestic ones that won't eat their owner, they still might eat strangers, guests, or even their owner if said owner mistreats them.

🍭 I also see a lot of the inanimate plants being made out of food, too, like cotton candy, taffy, licorice, etc.

🍭 The typical plant properties for the more sentient ones aside from talking mouths & blinking eyes, of course, would probably be something like some of them looking sweet at first glance and then devolving into full-on monsters. Some could even carry miniature Gluttony-native parasitic insect demons or possess some kind of glue-like coating that traps people.

🍭 Moving on, the Ring is the largest agriculturer producer of food in Hell, owning a great deal of restaurants in and out of the Ring.

🍭 And, unsurprisingly, it is the soul mass producer of Beezle Juice - the strongest and most addictive alcohol in Hell.

🍭 Now we don't know much about this stuff other than hellborns drink it and, apparently, it can turn mortal fish into giant monsters:

🍭 I personally headcanon it as being a massed produced, heavily addictive substance coming from the Queen Bee herself, with varying side-effects depending on who's consumed it.

🍭 For instance, high-ranking Hellborns clearly won't be too affected by the juice. At best, they'd just be immensely drunk. High-ranking sinners, ie. Overlords, can drink way more than the average sinner, but are still at some risk if they exceed past what the power level they have can hold.

🍭 Lower-ranking sinners, on the other hand, if they drink far too much than their bodies and/or general power-ranking can handle, their bodies start the withering process a lot faster with the added bonus of essentially turning into those zombie mutants from Adventure Time.

🍭 In this event, it'd really be no different from being a withered husk of a sinner, only you'd be oozing this stuff from your body, becoming a temporarily new producer of the juice, while others attempt to cannibalize on you as a result. Since you're only a husk, you likely wouldn't die until the Drones found you and either ate you or returned you to the Queen herself to be eaten.

🍭 I also want to believe that too much of Beezle Juice may cause some sort of hard-core hallucinating and the physical melting of your organs and insides into a viscous, honey-like substance.

🍭 Anyway, back to the layout, aside from the "Hives" which would likely be the party domes spread throughout the Ring, and Bee's own house, I headcanon a great deal of the buildings, both residential and a few private owned ones would be in cool lava-lamp-esque shapes with similar colors of yellow, orange, and pink that just fit the overall theme of the Ring.

🍭 And for the sake of variety, I'd also want some half tree buildings and structures throughout the Ring, you know, like in Zootopia and Elemental, but obviously not green. Maybe orange and pink, or something like that.

🍭 Also, for really no other reason, I feel that most of the ground-scape of the Ring would be in a cool transparent, walkable glass with rivers of colorful Beezle Juice moving beneath it.

🍭 All around there would be special vents that emit the scent of Beelze Juice, it doesn't completely effect people like a direct intake would, but it would put you in a mild state of euphoria, and maybe even in a constant state of hunger. Really, delicious food smells will be prevalent within this Ring.

🍭 Gluttony would no doubt be full of exotic foods from other Rings, the most popular kinds being from Wrath since it involves hunting giant, murderous animals that taste delicious but may operate on Pufferfish Rules. (If you know, you know).

🍭 Closing out the environment section, I believe that, as a new age development (more on that, later) the Ring operates on a need for feeding on Despair as well as general Sinners' souls, due to canon Bee somehow being able to feed on "the vibe" at her parties. (Oh, and Gluttony is the co-creator of Belphagor's Happy Pills [name may be changed]).

Gluttony's Residents:

¤ Okay, so, quick heads-up, I've decided to do a bit of retcon of some of my previous statements of Hell's citizens, most notably the Hellborns and the imps, sharks, succubi, etc. and the class portrayal. More will be clarified in a post following this one with the later edits being made to the other headcanon pages, but I just wanted to let y'all know. ¤

🔸️ Hellborns: Candified Imps [Concept Inspired by @dramokin impsona] Essentially like normal Imps but based on candy w/ many having lollipop based tails and a few having wings, though they're still all around powerless

🔸️🐝 Queen Bee's Drones 🐝 : This comes in a set of three...

1. Party Drones [Or "Bee's Bitches"] - These are smaller versions of Bee that don't completely look like her (usually have different color schemes with eyes on their wings like the Pixiez from that Bratz movie, but her sigil is on their bodies). Typically female or feminine-leaning, they manage the parties throughout the Ring and on Earth (without the angels'/the sinners' knowledge) to maintain the despair increase they get to bring back to Bee herself. They're usually taller than the average sinner, and a bit chaotic & egotistical due to their position.

2. Defender Drones - They mainly serve as the Bee's means of defense, or rather, intimidation against those who specifically take valuable things from her. There aren't many throughout the Ring as they all stay exclusively near her. They're, again, usually like her in the idea that they're bee demons, but they don't look too much like her.

3. Hellhound Hybrids - A newer development that really coincides with both of the aforementioned Drones, the hybrids are typcial Hellhounds mutated into bee-hybrid creatures to serve Bee more efficiently. The first ever hybrid, I headcanon would be Vivzie's Bee, who she keeps as both a pet and a (sort-of) daughter.

🔸️Sinners: Every other demon who ends up within Gluttony. For any bug-based, candy-based, etc. citizens who end up here, they simply won't resemble the Drones or Imps due to their differing body structure, possible color scheme, and their lack of a sigil on their bodies. (I know Beelzebub technically doesn't have a sigil but we'll just say they do here and go from there)

🔸️Hellhounds: Created in Gluttony by their ancient (possibly enslaved) Leader Cerberus, the hellhounds are the lowest of the low in both the Ring and throughout Hell as their seen as literal slaves. I believe they can essentially hold the souls of humans when on Earth and come with custom disguises (that cost extra with purchase of them), but since no Sinner/Hellborn typically goes up to Earth without a Sin's power, permission, or knowledge, there's no point for that for many of them and so they're usually used as servants).

🍭 In terms of hierarchy amongst the citizens, the obvious thing would be that the appointed Drones of Beelzebub are at the top simply because she depends on them the most. The Party Drones are ranked slightly higher due to being more useful, hybrid or not, but all the Drones are still greater up the scale than everyone else.

🍭 After them comes the sinners, then the imps, and of course, the Hellhounds.

🍭 There's truly not much left to say except that all the citizens here, save for maybe the poor Hellhounds, indulge every waking moment down here partying, day and night. Of course, I believe I mentioned the consequences of Sinners overindulging over long periods of time and what the people, namely the Drones, will do once they reach rotting status, so I'll just end it here until I decide to come back and make some edits.

Hope you enjoyed! Until next headcanons! 😋

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Sticky Situation- Part 8

Part 7

@laffy-taffy-creations I'm tagging you because you're gonna wanna read this!

-------

"I'm in," Hero said, "what now?"

"Take a left at the end of this hallway," Assistant's voice crackled in Hero's earpiece.

Hero did as they were told. They crept through Organization's maze of corridors while Assistant instructed them from their makeshift computer setup in their car.

"You should be reaching the central cortex," Assistant said, "do you see a pair of doors with a keypad?"

Hero saw them, along with two long shadows. They ducked behind a wall as two henchmen passed. They waited until their footsteps faded, then approached the doors.

“Yep,” Hero said.

“Okay,” Assistant continued, “punch in code 4-4-8-3.”

Hero did that, and the doors slid open with a whooshing sound. Hero entered the central cortex.

“Now what, Assistant?”

Hero was only greeted by crackling and static.

“Assistant?”

Hero put a finger to their earpiece.

“Assistant, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t think they can hear you.”

Hero’s blood ran cold- colder than usual. They turned to see Supervillain approaching them as two henchmen closed the double doors, locking them inside.

“You did very well,” Supervillain praised, “you reached the central cortex much faster than I thought you would.”

Before Hero could move, they felt a pinch in their neck. A numbness began to spread throughout their entire body. The two henchmen caught Hero before they could crumple to the ground. They deposited them in a chair covered in restraints. The henchmen started strapping Hero in, though it really wasn’t necessary, as whatever Hero had just been darted with made them unable to move at all.

“Now that I have your attention, Hero, I have a question for you,” Supervillain said, “how much do you know about beekeeping?”

Hero blinked. That… was the last thing they were expecting to hear.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Hero asked.

“Just answer the question.”

Hero knew by now not to test Supervillain.

“I, uh, beekeepers take care of the bees?”

“Honeybees to be specific.” Supervillain amended, “Apis mellifera Linnaeus, or, the honeybee, is a remarkable little insect. Like humans, they are a eusocial species. Unlike humans, however, honeybees are known to have swarm intelligence, also known as a hive mind. This collective mentality allows the colony to thrive and keep the hive running. The most important bee is of course, the queen bee. She has the power to determine every action of the hive, via pheromones that only she can secrete. It’s the beekeeper’s job to make sure that the hive has a good queen.”

Supervillain paused, smiling to themselves.

“The bees crave subjugation you see. Much like humans. Without a leader, the colony would die. Without control, the colony would cease to operate. This would of course cause environmental collapse and the ramifications of that would likely be irreversible. Therefore, control is life-sustaining, but resistance is unequivocally destructive.”

Hero glared; they weren’t sure what Supervillain was getting at, but they were definitely sure that it wasn’t good.

“The only issue is… humans don’t know what they crave. They keep trying to find what’s missing, all the while resisting what would satisfy them. That’s where you come in.”

Supervillain turned to the giant computers in front of them. They typed in a code, pulling up the plans to create an army of cryogenically enhanced super-soldiers.

“I am the beekeeper, you see, and you, Hero, are the queen I have chosen. With your powers, I will send my worker bees to assimilate the rest of the world into the hive.”

Hero’s eyes went wide. This is why Supervillain wanted them the whole time.

“Get them ready,” Supervillain said, “and bring Assistant. We’ll need to start human trials soon after all.”

Another dart was injected into their neck, and Hero’s world went dark.

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Tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @rainy-knights-of-villany

[the-sleepy-succubus]

you should tell us more about this pillow scenario

OK so I've mentioned before that anything with my butt turns my brain off. Well tonight me and my partner (don't worry readers touched base that they're ok with me sharing this) went to bed to make out. No expectations, no plans just kissing and touching and seeing where it led (usually it leads to cuddles). Then they started sucking on my tits amd I started to lose my mind. Just exactly the right amount of pressure to get me writhing gently underneath them. They worked me over like that for probably 20 minutes, every time they pulled off to ask if I was enjoying I just pulled them right back in, it was heaven. They eventually started running there hand between my thighs while they sucked and I was bucking into them and they laughed amd slid down the bed to get their face between my thighs. They pulled off my clothes, skirt, leggings panties, each discarded one after another amd then they nestled their face in. They started off sucking my balls licking lower and lower till they asked if I'd like them to eat my ass. To be honest, by that point? I wasn't really remotely coherent, they were asking what position I wanted to be in how I wanted them to do it and I was useless. Just making soft affirmative noises and giving them lidded eye looks. And thrust my hips gently down at them. They laughed and said they'd take care of it, pushing my cheeks apart while I was on my back and licking while they reached around my thigh to jerk me off. I was moaning like a whore almost immediately. It was ecstasy but they pretty quickly commented that they didn't have a lot of access in that position. That brings us to the pillow, I did the only thing I could think to do, nudged them away then rolled over on to my hands and knees my ass gently swaying amd exposed for them and bit down on the pillow that my face was now buried in. It was only moments, but it was torture waiting for them to lean back in and take me, and thank god they took their time and kept me waiting. Kissing my cheeks, lubing my cock up with their spit. Finally though they leaned in and started to lick. It was immediately apparent that the pillow in a mouth was a good call. If I thought I was moaning before it was nothing compared to this. I could feel my tits swaying underneath me, my lovers hand wrapped around my cock jerkikg me off in time with their mouth. And god their mouth; they were exquisite atarting soft and slow building, alternating between broad gentle licks and deep firm slow licks. I thought I was just moaning into that pillow but talking with my lover afterward i was apparently screaming with pleasure the entire time they were eating me out. Atleast it was muffled. I truly don't know how long they had me like that, time was taffying out into an endless never ending moment of bodily pleasure the likes of which I truly have never experienced before in my life. Eventually I had to flip onto my back again, bad knees are a bitch. But they kept working my ass and I took over jerking myself. I ended up needing to take a little break but a couple minutes later with my tits getting played with and sucked on I came and it was glorious and overwhelming. I was leaking cum for fully like 20 minutes afterwards and even now i feel totally like I'm in an altered state. That sex was sp good its literally a before/after moment in my internal biography. So yeah thats what had me biting a pillow 🥴🥰💋🎊

[haruniki]

Halloween with CSM Characters

(Makima, Power, Kobeni)

a/n: hi sorry for falling off the face of the earth repetitively. I haven't really been wanting to write lately, college and work are draining me badly rip

Makima

Finds the holiday interesting, but hasn't celebrated it before

Makima only begins celebrating it when you mention how much you love the holiday or how you love specific things about the holiday

Likes going to see Halloween films or horror short films with you, loves it even more when you cling to her during the scary parts

Also doesn't mind walking through a pumpkin patch with you

However, it's very unlikely that you'll be craving a pumpkin with her. Makima would much rather buy decorations that her dogs wouldn't try to eat.

On the topic of her dogs, she finds pumpkin spice dog treats that she brings home for them to try.

Dresses up with you! If you wanna do matching costumes she's all for it. Makima even suggests a few, she seems to have liked the Doctor and Patient costume idea quite a bit.

If you want to hand out treats on Halloween day then it's not very likely she'll help. Maybe every once in a while when someone comes knocking, but probably not answering the door. Makima often scares the children at the door when she opens it, though i suppose you both don't have to worry abt going back out to buy more candy when they drop their candy bags at the door.

Makima's favorite candy is.. Salt water Taffy.

"I think you'd make quite the treat wrapped up in bandages..Perhaps, I should wrap you up a bit. You're quite clumsy."

Power

A literal menace to society during Halloween

Finds out what Halloween pranks are and loves the idea of TPing or tyrowing eggs at someone's house

Didn't know there was a holiday where you could demand treats or face the wrath of the Almighty Power

Buys Meowy a costume to wear and and takes the cat trick or treating with her

Doesn't care about matching costumes and most likely changes her mind like 5 different times as to what she wants to dress up as.

Don't bring her to a pumpkin patch, she's banned from most of them and almost destroys the pumpkin craving it

Power also thinks it's dumb to hand out candy when you both should be taking as much free candy as you both candy

Ever heard the saying it's as easy as taking candy from a baby? Let's just say Power made a lot of kids cry Halloween day.

Power's favorite candy is.. surprisingly Now or Laters

"HAHAHAHAHA, HAND OVER THY TREATS HUMAN! I SHALL RULE HALLOWEEN VICTORIOUS!!"

Kobeni

Actually a really big fan of the holiday

Despite her being rather anxious and scared easily, Kobeni really enjoys Halloween.

Loves decorating her apartment with cute decorations.

Doesn't watch horror movies, but she does watch movies like Hocus Pocus or Halloweentown.

Spends loads of time in the Halloween sections in stores. You almost have to pull Kobeni away before she spends all her money on Halloween themed items.

Loves pumpkin patches. Kobeni thinks they're cute and she likes to dress up a bit when she goes.

Craves pumpkins with such skill. Loves making and craving out cute designs

Gets shy in regards to matching costumes, in the end she asks if you both can go as witches for Halloween.

Loves handing out candy to the kids who come by. Giving out heaping handfuls of candy, so you both might have to go out for more a couple of times.

Kobeni's favorite candy is.. Dots

"Your..Your costume looks so nice and.. oh! yours too! Uhhh....i love the glitter on your prin..princess dress! "

[onceonafullmoon]

Hi, could you please tell us a bit more about Tsundere/Yandere Fumus? I saw what you wrote about Tsundere/Yandere Fumus, and I was curious if you had thought of anything. I really like your writing and I hope I'm not bothering you. Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language.

Me when I get to talk about an awful man: 😈 (also these are leaning more towards yan then tsun, so sorry about that)

Yandere Fumus x GN! Reader HCs

Tw!! Violence/torture towards reader and other characters, manipulation (guilt tripping) and non-con mentions

Well, firstly, you’re fucked. But you already knew that, didn’t you?

You’d probably meet through being affiliated with someone else, like Satanick or Taffy, rather than meeting Fumus head on.

See, he’s a bit of the asshole curious type like that, always wanting to know what his toys are amusing themselves with.

When you think about it, it's kinda like a child who only wants to play with his peers toys, but more unhinged and fucked up

Either way, despite their wishes, he’ll either stumble across you or go out of his way to visit you.

You wouldn't think much when you do meet him, he's not outwardly threatening compared like others you might have met. In fact, with the way he seems to disregard your presence enirely, like he's above you, you'd probably just think of him as some typical asshole, the only unsettling thing about him bring those piercing violet eyes of his.

Its only when you turn to see your affilates reaction of utter horror and dread that you realize something is terribly wrong.

When he leaves, you try to pry into what they're so worried about, but whether through straight dismissal (Taffy) or dancing around the topic (Satanick) neither will answer you head on.

Anyways, with Fumus's growing interest in you, you can't really afford to worry about either of them, his visits growing more frequent and that same oppressive feeling growing greater as they do.

It won't be long until you find yourself in his domain, the stench of cleaning products permeating the air.

And is that blood you see in the corner?

Your first few visits will ineviably end in screaming and crying, blood splattered on almost every surface of his office, the same loving treatment Fumus gives all his toys.

You might try to reach out to find help during this time, only to be dismissed entirely by Satanick with a helpless grin or a rather unfortunate response of "it never hurts as much the first time" from Taffy.

You could also try to escape... but running from a God is pointless, which you'll find out through bruises, or if you're particularly unlucky, broken bones.

Meanwhile, Fumus is going through somewhat of a... crisis... on his part as well.

See he only meant to play with you out of curiosity... but now... maybe its your sweet crying face, or the withering glares you send his way... there's just something about you that he can't get out of his mind.

And at first he doesn't think about it, he'd always been a bit obsessive with his toys anyways

But then he sees you talking with one of his angels, a small smile on your face, and he can't help the surge of fury that courses through him.

Both because he hates the idea of you with anyone else and because he realizes what this jealousy means for him despite his self insistance of not wanting a "relationship".

Albeit this notion of a relationship is highly onesided.

That afternoon, he's very busy with his scissors, repeatedly plunging them in and out of the poor angel's body.

And that night, he finds himself busy helping himself to your body too, albeit in a different way, despite your protests and struggles

Distantly he wishes he could take a picture of you, looking ruined for him, until he realizes he could have this sight every night if he choosed so.

Luckily for everyone else, and unfortunately for you, at the discovery of his newfound "feelings", he spends more time tormenting you.

Albeit this time his methods are more... pleasureable than his previous ones, though you might find that worse than being tortured based on how you see it.

Its simple enough to keep you from leaving him consequently, even without him having to exert his power.

Just a simple, playful, remark about how lonely he'd be if you left, that he'd have to subsitute you with his precious little angels, and suddenly you're hesitating on carrying out that escape plan.

Not that it would have worked anyways mind you... perhaps next him he catches wind of a new plan he'll just invite you to watch him have fun with Taffy.

In all, attracting Fumus is the worst mistake you could have unknowingly commited, and now you have to deal with the torture of being damned to a god.

[buckyandgeraltsupremacy]

The Plot Part 3 (Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader)

anthony bridgerton x fem!reader

third part in a series where his entire family plots to get you two together by the end of the season

warnings: father who is blatantly sexist; she/her pronouns

author: sj

masterlist

part one / part two / part four

part three coming soon :)

taglist: @lafy-taffy​ @fictional-hooman @navs-bhat​ @littleunstable2022​ 

You knew you were utterly screwed. The eldest Bridgerton had always had your heart and yet, you knew he would never return your feelings in the same way. The way he had danced with you at the last ball had been enough to know that you would do anything for him. The hold he had over you was overbearing. 

It had been a few days since that fateful ball and you could not get the Viscount from your mind. And little did you know that he had trouble getting you out of his mind as well. 

At first, he thought he was simply concerned for you. He had known you for what felt like forever so he only assumed it was normal for the idea of you and another man to consume his every waking and dreaming thought. However, it was not normal how much rage seemed to fill his body when he thought of your father not caring about what happened to you in the long run. How could he not even take a second to consider your happiness? The sweet girl from across the street who looked, walked, and talked like a living angel? 

Okay, maybe he shouldn’t be thinking of his younger sister’s best friend in that way, comparing her to an angel seemed a bit on the riskier side of that territory. But he would be lying to himself if he did not admit that he thought of you not in a little sister way, but a romantic way. In fact, he thought of you that way many, many times. 

You were currently sitting in your day room as a suitor was droning on and on and on about something to do with his estates. He had not asked you one question yet, only talking to you about himself. You didn’t know how much more you could take of this. As if your mind was read, the door to the day room opened and Benedict came strolling in. 

“Mr. Bridgerton.” You said, standing up from the couch, trying not to sound too relived and excited to see a friendly face. He nodded to you, giving you a small, playful smile and then walked towards your mother. 

“Lady Y/l/n, may I ask Miss Y/l/n to promenade with me and my family?” Your mother looked at you and your eyes practically were pleading with her to say yes. 

“Of course Mr. Bridgerton.” She replied, winking at you. You knew your mother was not happy with what your father was trying to do, but she couldn’t do a thing about it. They had never had a good relationship like Violet and her late husband, in fact, they were one of the only examples of a healthy relationship that you had ever witnessed. 

That is how you found yourself with your arm linked around Benedict’s in the park, strolling leisurely to the lake, towards the boats. The whole Bridgerton clan had decided to come for the stroll, giving you a chance to see them again since you were quite busy with this season’s suitors. 

“So Y/n, how is your suitor hunt going?” Ben asked you. You let out a laugh that sounded more like a sigh. 

“Not very well, if I’m honest. It is just filled with such dreary men. They either are a rake, terrifying, or have the personality of a broom stick.” You responded. Benedict laughed and swatted his arm that your other arm was wrapped around. “That was not very gentleman like of you.”

“Have you ever known me to be a gentleman?” He lowered his eyes towards you. You laughed in response, quickly covering your mouth, and continuing to joke around with each other. 

Anthony watched you two from behind, his eyebrows furrowing at the sound of your shared laughter, wondering what you two could be possibly saying that was so funny. 

“Well don’t you look like you have your pants on a little too tight brother.” Colin said. 

“Whatever are you talking about Colin?” Anthony remarked, not taking his eyes off of you and Ben in front of him.

“Hmmm. I don’t know, maybe the way that you are practically staring holes in the back of Y/n’s head. Why don’t you just court her already instead of pretending that you aren’t interested in her. She would make a great Viscountess and we already love her, which is half the battle in itself.” Colin remarked. Anthony looked to his brother and nodded tightly. 

“I couldn’t give her what she wanted, which is a love match. That would require her actually loving me.” Anthony spoke with a pained face, squinting from the sun. 

“I thought you were smarter brother. If you haven’t seen how she has looked at you since she was young, then I am not sure what to tell you. She adores you. You just have to look.” Colin said, patting him on the back and walking towards Eloise who was waving him over. 

“Benedict!” Violet called from her little huddle of the youngest two children. Ben looked up and made sure it was okay with you before he walked away. Anthony watched as Lord Grayson, who was standing nearby, spotted you alone and started towards you. Again, Anthony’s feet seemed to move on their own as he quickly came over to you. 

“Miss Y/l/n.” They both said at once, looking from you to each other, Anthony’s jaw clenched. You looked to both of them staring at each other. 

Lord Grayson was probably one of the only men that you had encountered that you could tolerate for longer than one dance. He had come to court you this week and you had a nice chat with him. He would make a great friend, but if you wanted a love match, you were going to need more. 

“Miss Y/l/n, I was wondering if you would join me on a small boat ride.” Anthony asked, making eye contact with you. 

“I would love to. Lord Grayson, did you need something?” You looked to the Lord standing before you. 

“Never mind. I see I have arrived a little too late.” He said, dipping his head as he left. You grabbed Anthony’s arm as he led you to the edge of the water where there was a boat waiting. 

Once you were both in, Anthony started rowing and conversation started to flow. 

“So, have you found anyone you wish to court? I know your mother told me that you were looking to marry this season.” You said, mentally chastising yourself, not sure if you could handle if he said that he had found someone of interest. 

“Not really. I find that if I am to find a wife, my demeanor will probably have to change. At least that is what my mother said, something about that I am too harsh with those around me.” 

“Harsh? You are not harsh Anthony, you have only ever been patient, helpful and kind to me.” You told him earnestly, slightly avoiding his eyes.

“Well, thats different. With you, it is easy to be... well... gentler and more understanding.” You looked up to his and he watched how your eyes shone. They held a look in them that he hasn’t seen in a while, not since he last saw Daphne looking at Simon or his mother looking at his father. 

And that is when Anthony Bridgerton knew he wished to marry you. He knew he was utterly screwed.