#bell's hells new fits

[bjarkanart]

Essek: "You're going to need to dress for cold environment"

Bell's Hells: Gotcha! *does the exact opposite*

But hey, they have cloaks, I guess...

[hirosboard]

Pick your mog.

[oddthesungod]

feeling completely unwell at Ashton and Orym's new outfits and looks, they just look SO good 😤👌

[hhoshiii]

first time drawing imogen since 2022

[nellasbookplanet]

With Marisha mentioning on last 4SD that Laudna went to that dinner with the Briarwoods thinking it might be her in to leave Whitestone and go study/train her magic abilities, I wonder how much this early trauma has impacted how she talks, or rather doesn’t talk, about being a sorcerer.

Because Laudna doesn’t really talk about what it was like growing up as the only sorcerer in town with abilities she didn’t understand, nor does she seek to learn more about them now (but she wants to give Imogen all that she never had, and the first thing they try to do in the campaign is figure out Imogen's magic). She may talk about her death, sometimes almost flippantly, but not about how it feels knowing that it was her magic, that one part of her that made her special, that she wanted to use to get out of her simple life, that made Delilah choose her as her undead puppet, or the inverse in knowing that if it wasn’t for said magic dooming her, she would just be dead-dead, like the rest of the people in that tree.

And I wonder, is part of Laudna scared to explore her own abilities and self? Is it part of her compartmentalization, where doing so would force her to face a part of her own trauma that she’s been trying to ignore? Did dying trying to reach for something Bigger ironically remove the magic from it all, reduce her sorcerer abilities to just another thing that was used take control of her life away from her? Does leaving herself in the dark feel like taking part of that control back?

[retrokid616]

braius new drip

[exandriaborn]

@featherstcnes asked: ❛[ nightmare ] sender wakes receiver up from a nightmare.❜ // non-verbal angst prompts;; open

Imogen's eyes fluttered open, wide with terror, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She sat bolt upright, clutching the blankets to her chest as she blinked rapidly, trying to orient herself to her surroundings. The fading tendrils of the red storm still swirled behind her eyelids, and she could almost feel the crackle of arcane energy on her skin. If she focused enough, she could swear she heard Laudna murmuring something to her, rubbing slow circles on Imogen's back. The contact helped ground her in reality, the nightmare's grip loosening as she focused on the sensation of Laudna's slender fingers tracing patterns through the fabric of her nightshirt.

Though their traveling arrangement, no, their friendship was still in its infancy, Imogen had already come to know and appreciate the warmth and compassion that radiated from Laudna despite her outward appearance. This was not the first time she had held Imogen close, offering comfort and solace from the relentless grip of nightmares. The moon cast a soft glow through the window, illuminating their faces as they sat huddled together.

The human woman drew in a shuddering breath, exhaling slowly as she leaned into Laudna for just a moment. "It felt so real again," she whispered, her voice hoarse from sleep and fear. "The storm… the red lightning… could feel it calling to me, pulling me in, Laudna." Gradually, the tension began to drain from her muscles, and she felt herself relax. One would think the nightmares should lose their power over her, but apparently not. "I just wish I understood. Wish they would stop."

[mellifera38]

FINALLY. A proper animated opening! I'm so fucking stoked.

[yesihaveaobsession]

A Well- Tailored Affair

Alastor x female! reader

Summary: Being The Radio Demon's one and only personal tailor has it own perks.

A/N- Sorry I have been gone for quite some time!! But I'm back, I had NOOOOOO idea what to write and this thought came to me mid sleep at like 12am So anyways I hope you enjoy!

ALSO this was gonna proofread because I didn't have time and I missed yall so sorry if it sucks 💀

Being a tailor in Hell was no small feat, especially when your main client was none other than the Radio Demon himself, Alastor. When you first took the job, you didn’t expect it to be much of a challenge working with his specific tastes. But over time, you came to know him like the back of your hand.

Today, he was scheduled for a fitting. He had dropped off a newer jacket last week but he said he had business to attend to and he'd come back next week and that was today. As always, the atmosphere of your small shop—which wasn’t far from the hotel—was calm and cozy. You were currently cross-stitching a dress for Rosie for some type of event in Cannibal Town when, suddenly, the bell above the door jingled. There he was. Alastor stepped inside with his signature grin, accompanied by the hum of radio static. The aura he carried was palpable. The moment he entered, you could feel the air shift.

"Ah, my favorite tailor!" he exclaimed, spreading his arms wide before resting his hands on the microphone in front of him. With a slight tilt of his head, he asked, "Have you missed me?"

You chuckled softly, stepping away from your work and already reaching for the measuring tape. "You were here last week, Alastor. Hardly enough time to miss anyone." You smiled. His grin didn’t falter, though you didn’t notice how his crimson eyes lingered on you longer than usual. Truth be told, Alastor liked you. More than he should, and more than he realized. Part of it was the trust he placed in you to handle his precious suits, which were such a vital part of who he was. But it was also because you treated them with such grace. You knew what you were doing and were exceptional at it. Not to mention, you were one of the rare souls in Hell who wasn’t afraid of him. And lastly, you were undeniably pretty—he thought that too.

"Ah, but a week without your company is an eternity, my dear," Alastor replied. You brushed off his words with a smile. He often gave small, sweet compliments about your work and how he missed you, so this wasn’t anything new. Yet today, his words seemed to carry a different meaning.

You rolled your eyes playfully, motioning for him to step onto the fitting platform. In front of him was a large mirror—he loved checking his reflection to ensure he always looked impeccable. "Alright, charmer, let’s see what we’re working with today. Did you tear another sleeve during one of your dramatics?" you teased, looking from the sleeve up into his eyes.

He let out a melodic laugh. "Guilty as charged! I simply cannot help myself. Life—or afterlife, rather—demands a flair for the theatrical!"

As you worked, your hands expertly adjusted the fabric of his jacket. You noticed his gaze drifting to you frequently. At first, you thought he might be scrutinizing your technique, but no—this was different. His grin softened ever so slightly whenever he thought you weren’t looking. Watching your focused expression gave him an odd fluttering sensation, almost like butterflies in his stomach.

"You’re very precise," he remarked, his voice quieter than usual.

"Kind of comes with the job," you replied with a smile, pinning a sleeve in place. "Can’t have the Radio Demon walking around in anything less than perfection, right?"

"Indeed. And you, my dear, are perfection. I must confess, I’ve never trusted anyone else with my suits. You have an extraordinary talent."

You paused, caught off guard by the bold confession—especially coming from him. "Thank you, Alastor. That means a lot," you said, grabbing the needle and thread.

"And," he added, tilting his head as though studying a particularly fascinating piece of art, "it doesn’t hurt that you’re quite easy on the eyes." Was he kidding? He had to be, right? Your cheeks flushed instantly, and you nearly dropped the pin you were holding. "Oh! Uh, thanks."

He noticed your reaction and chuckled, clearly amused. "Did I fluster you? My, my, how delightful!" Alastor grinned, watching you through the mirror. You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. "Stop moving," you muttered, focusing on adjusting the flaps on his suit. You finished stitching up the rip on his sleeve with a clean, neat stitch—it was a relatively easy fix.

The silence grew heavy until he broke it. "You’re one of the only few who doesn’t fear me, you know… It’s refreshing."

"Well, I figured if you were going to do something to me, you would’ve done it already," you replied with a smirk, stepping back to admire your work. Alastor’s grin widened. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I find your company far too enjoyable to spoil."

You shook your head, laughing softly. "Alright, smooth talker, you’re good to go. You can come and pick it up in 24 hours." You watched as he stepped down from the platform, adjusted his jacket, the one he came in with and turned to face you. "Splendid! I’ll be counting the seconds until I see your lovely presence again!" He started toward the door but paused, looking back over his shoulder with that ever-present grin. "Oh, and my dear, do save a moment for tea when I return. I’d like to enjoy more of your delightful company." You smiled, shaking your head. "You better not rip your coat on purpose in the next 24 hours!" you shouted after him.

You heard his laugh echo as he left, leaving you standing in the middle of your shop, flustered and smiling despite yourself. Maybe being Alastor’s tailor wasn’t so bad after all.

[avocado-writing]

Hi dear! I would like to appreciate your works. I really enjoy everything you wrote, Wish you have a great day! 💗

Since you're taking requests, could you please write Wade with a polite, sweet and delicate partners. He's with a person who's the definition of "Too pure for this world and MUST be PROTECTED at all cost" His partner showers him with love and validation, and always love to listen to him! Thanks! 💓

possibly based on real life events.

Wade Wilson is so in love, it must be sickening to everyone around him. 

In fact he knows it is and he does not care. He’ll say “look at this meme the love of my life sent me!” and the person who he shows will roll their eyes, as if you don’t have incredible taste in cat pictures. He’ll monologue constantly about how cute you are and how much he loves that scrunchy thing you do with your nose. He’s recited committed-to-memory facts about you so many times that his friends can parrot them too. 

“Yes, I know what their favourite film is, I know you took them to a special viewing of it for their birthday. It’s cute, Wade,” says Laura, patting him on the arm condescendingly. Well, it’s not his fault you’re so wonderful! There isn’t a single thing about you that’s not perfect. He’s constantly bowled over about just how much affection he can fit in his body for you. The other night he was going on about something stupid - he can’t even remember what now, maybe it was about the new Taco Bell menu? - and then realised you hadn’t interrupted him once to shut him up like most people would.

You’d looked over the top of your magazine at him when he’d pointed this out, brow cocked.

“Why would I want you to shut up? I like listening to you talk, Wade.”

Marry you. He’s going to marry you. Every day, then divorce you every day too so he can marry you again. 

You are probably too good for him. Most of his social circle thinks so. You’re patient and kind, when you’re not at your job - where you work at a charity adopting out senior animals, as if you could be any more of a fucking angel - you like to spend your time in his shitty little kitchen, baking desserts for him to get home to. He’ll find you getting Al to taste test for you and his apartment full of laughter and joy. 

Man, he’s definitely put on like, six pounds since the two of you started dating. He needs to be stronger in the face of your cupcakes. 

They are really fucking good though. 

He walks in that night with a plushie under his arm. It’s a cow. He remembers you mentioning offhand how cute you thought cows were, so he decided to grab the biggest one the toy store one the way home had just because he knows it’ll make you smile. You don’t need any more stuffed toys; you sleep with them all in the bed and they’re pushing him off the side at this point because of their sheer number but, well, he likes seeing you happy. 

And then he hears sobbing. 

“Sweetheart?” he asks, immediately panicked. Are you injured? Has someone come to hurt you - has he painted a target on your back because of his job? Bile fills his throat as he stumbles forward…

…and there you are, sitting in front of the TV, PlayStation controller in your lap as tears run down your face while the end of the game plays out. Wade has never felt such relief in his life, laughing as the ache of it is taken from his chest. You turn to him with wide, watery eyes. 

“Don’t you laugh at me, Wade Wilson!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But babe… are you crying at the end of Kingdom Hearts?”

“No!” you lie, trying to mop your face off with your sleeve. Then the music hits its crescendo from the crappy speakers and you start wailing all over again. 

He loves you. He’d kill a million billion people for you. It would take a hell of a long time but hey, one word and he’d do it. If anyone even lifted a finger to hurt you he’d execute them so thoroughly that every generation of their family would be wiped out of existence too. 

To put it in terms you’d approve of, he’d do anything for you. But he also knows you’d never ask him to. You’re just that wonderful. 

“… would it help if I got us take-out and you started playing the second one?”

“Uh-huh,” you manage to confirm. 

“I could be in this fucking game, beat Donald Duck’s little feathery ass. Disney, make it happen.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it. Pizza or Chinese?”

Taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk

[utilitycaster]

Robbie's been playing Dorian as fairly quiet since coming back (as Marisha-as-Laudna pointed out), and I think this episode put a lot of it into perspective.

Dorian is profoundly unsure of his place - in general. The Crownkeepers are scattered and while Dorian is welcome in Bells Hells - is a member of Bells Hells, without question - he's been absent for many of their adventures.

He is also, suddenly, the heir and not the spare to the leadership of the Silken Squall, a responsibility he did not expect to have and which he fled shortly before the events of EXU. He mentions his feelings seem unimportant, a reflection perhaps on both how powerless he's felt as of late regarding the events of the solstice, and much more long-standing acknowledgement of a childhood that pushed him into a role that did not fit him. Bells Hells make him feel important - which is more of the same issue. When Dorian is important, his feelings can't be because perhaps more so than anyone else in the party, he knows of the sacrifices of leadership. And now, both because of Bells Hells' involvement in world events, and Dorian's new and unwanted role as the crown prince, those sacrifices feel more necessary to him than ever.

He introduces himself as a bad liar, and now he's simply honestly stating that he's not sharing information. He also says he knows it will come from him; he's not just no longer a liar, but no longer a runaway. Even on the run with the Crown Keepers, something found him; what's the point.

It is unsurprising (and entirely understandable) that Dorian has no desire to make deals with the gods, given how that turned out for Opal, but his view towards the gods is a much more nuanced one than Braius or Ashton's. He remarks that the simple harvest-based cultural reverence Whitestone holds for the Dawnfather is perhaps the heart of worship - an opinion that lines up with, at least, Nick's interpretation of the Dawnfather. He seems affected by the revelation - new to him - that when Predathos first came to Exandria, it killed two of the gods, whom he knows from the Occultus Thalamus see each other as family.

There are two questions Dorian not only doesn't answer, but doesn't acknowledge. He doesn't answer Laudna's question about whether he feels responsible, but I think we know his answer. And he doesn't answer whether he would bring back Cyrus, if he can (and he might be able to). I don't know if he knows; something, certainly, is keeping him up at night.

The most piercing questions Bells Hells ask of each other this episode center around what they might do in a desperate situation: whether Braius will choose to harm the Platinum Dragon instead of stop Ludinus (as Asmodeus chose in Downfall); what terrible things Fearne might do to protect those she loves (as the Primes did in Aeor). Fearne declines that answer. Orym and Imogen express their doubts that they can ever know what's right. Only Ashton displays any confidence, at least outwardly; but only Dorian, I think, has previously been forced to consider a future where he might hold the fate of a group of people in his hands, and it has abruptly become a reality not just for the current crisis, but for the rest of his life.

[thef1diary]

Beneath The Wool | D. Ricciardo

Merry Smutmas - Day 2: Ugly Sweater

warnings: 18+ content, porn w plot, unprotected sex, riding, lowkey sub!danny for a quick min, very slight degrading, praise kink, penetrative sex.

— missed day 1? read it here by @emchante

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

The scent of rich cocoa filled the kitchen as you carefully stirred the mixture, its warmth spreading through the room. The night outside is quiet, perfectly still as the snow lazily drifts outside while every twinkling light and decoration you’ve hung creates a festive glow throughout the house. You can practically feel the warmth, the cozy anticipation building for a perfect winter night in with Daniel.

Just as you poured the hot cocoa into mugs, you heard footsteps behind you. You turned, grinning, ready to hand Daniel his mug—only to stop in your tracks, staring at the sight before you.

Daniel stands there, an unmistakable twinkle in his eyes, wearing a sweater that’s…well, something else. To call it ugly—despite how handsome the man wearing it looked—would be an understatement. Bright red and green, with a massive reindeer face taking up the entire front, complete with a dangling, sparkly red nose and antlers decorated with tiny bells that jingled every time he moved. The sleeves, as if the reindeer wasn’t enough, are covered in glittery snowflakes, making him look like he was caught in a Christmas explosion.

You tried to hold it in, pressing your lips together as you reached for composure, but the sight of Daniel—this tall, confident man wrapped in an outrageous, holiday-coloured spectacle—is too much. A giggle escaped before you could stop it, and you quickly set the mugs on a countertop, just in time to save the kitchen from a cocoa catastrophe.

The grin on his face widened and that only made it harder to keep it together. A laugh bubbled up from somewhere deep in your chest, filling the room. “Danny… I—oh my god, I can’t,” you managed between fits of laughter, doubling over as he looked at you with mock indignation.

“What? You don’t like my holiday spirit?” he teased, feigning offense, though his smile gave him away. He spread his arms out proudly, and shimmied, causing the bells to jingle absurdly, letting the ridiculousness of the sweater fully sink in. “I found it in the back of the closet and had to bring it out for the season.”

You walked up to him, still laughing, and reached out to flick the reindeer’s shiny, oversized nose. It wobbles, then jingles lightly back into place, setting off another round of laughter from you.

“This thing is…well…ugly. Very, very ugly,” you murmured, trying to catch your breath as your laughter died down to a few chuckles. “Honestly, honey, you’ve been wearing ugly sweaters all week—everyday is a new nightmare, and no, just because you’re hot doesn’t mean you can pull it off.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Oh? So now you have to tell me…which one was your favourite?”

You shook your head, giggling. “Between the one that said “jingle my bells,” the one that just said “horny,” and…whatever this absurdity is, none. Zero out of ten on all of them.”

He let out a dramatic sigh, holding his chest as if wounded. “Come on, not even a little appreciation for my dedication to the season?”

You stepped closer, smirking up at him as you rested your hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think “horny” counts as seasonal cheer.”

He grinned, finding your hand and entwining your fingers before pulling you closer. “Horny is seasonal cheer for all seasons—only around you.”

A flush spread across your cheeks, but you’re quick to mask it, giving him a playful shove, though your fingers remain entwined. “Is that so?”

Daniel brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss on the back as he hummed, “always.”

But just as he was about to pull you even closer, he dropped your hand, rubbing his arm with a slight frown. “Bloody hell, this sweater is starting to itch like crazy.”

You bit your lip, suppressing a giggle as you watched him fidget, the bells on his sweater jingling with each movement. You ran your palm down the front of his sweater, wincing slightly at the scratchy material beneath your fingers.

“Yeah, this thing feels like it was made from…carpet?” you teased.

“Cheap carpet,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. “Never wearing this again.”

Your fingers trailed lower, teasing the hem of his sweater as you lifted your gaze to meet his. “You know,” you murmured, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips, “this sweater is so ugly, I might just have to take it off you.”

Daniel’s eyebrows lifted, a mischievous spark in his eyes as he leaned into your touch. “Oh really?”

“Mhm.” You hooked your fingers around the hem, lifting it slightly to expose a sliver of warm, tanned skin, your fingertips brushing over his taut abdomen. His muscles tensed slightly under your touch, and you couldn’t help but smile as you murmured, “besides, I know what’s underneath is much sexier.”

Slowly, you slid the sweater higher, revealing more of him inch by inch. Each part that emerged—the dip of his waist, the toned line of his torso—made your heart race a little faster. He held his arms up, chuckling softly as you ease the scratchy sweater over his shoulders and finally tug it free. The bells jingled one more time, clinking in protest before you tossed the fabric onto the floor, where it landed with a final satisfying jingle that faded into silence.

Now, with nothing between you, you took a moment to admire him. His skin is warm, golden under the soft glow of the kitchen lights, his chest bare and his gaze intent on you, a playful spark in his eyes. Daniel stepped closer, his hands finding your waist, and he drew you in until your bodies pressed together, his warmth spilling over to you as he leaned down.

“Better?” He asked, his lips lightly brushing against yours. You managed a small nod, feeling your pulse quicken, but before you could respond, he closed the remaining space between you.

His lips captured yours in a kiss that’s soft at first, just a gentle brush that sends a shiver down your spine. Then, his hands slide a little further up your sides, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens, his mouth moving in sync with yours with a heat that feels both familiar and exhilarating.

Daniel’s hands slid lower, setting at the curve of your waist before he shifted, bending slightly and scooping you up in one smooth motion. You let out a soft laugh, surprised but delighted, as he lifted you effortlessly. His gaze remained locked on yours as he carried you from the kitchen, weaving through the glow of the holiday lights and into the cozy warmth of the living room.

He settled onto the couch, pulling you down with him until you’re straddling his lap, your legs wrapped around him. His hands settle on your hips, fingers grazing over your holiday-themed red and black plaid pants, adding a festive touch that he can’t help but grin at.

“Now that,” he started, his voice a low rumble, “is some proper holiday cheer.”

You smirked, leaning in close, your fingers slipping up to rest on his bare chest, tracing gentle circles over his warm skin. “Someone’s got to make up for your questionable sweater choices,” you murmured, letting your lips brush his with a playful hint.

He laughed softly against your mouth, but the sound faded as your lips captured his again, this time slower, deeper. His fingers tightened at your waist, pulling you closer until there’s nothing but warmth between you, every inch of his bare skin pressed to yours. His mouth moves with a kind of quiet intensity, savoring the taste of you, and your hands slide up to tangle in his hair, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.

Daniel’s hands slip underneath the hem of your shirt, lifting it slowly, his fingers trailing a line of warmth as he peeled it away from your body. His gaze drifted over you, dark with appreciation, before his mouth returned to your skin, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck. Each kiss is unhurried, like he’s savouring the feeling of you, the way your breath hitches under his touch.

His hands slide down, brushing over your waist before settling just beneath the waistband of your pants. A teasing smirk lifts the corner of his mouth as he palms the curve of your ass, guiding you with gentle pressure to rock against him. The heat between you built with each movement, and a low sound escaped him as your hips rolled against his.

You leaned in, pressing your lips to the spot just behind his ear, lingering there as you sucked the taut skin gently before soothing it with a flick of your tongue. The low, guttural groan he let out spurred you on, your breath ghosting over your ear as you whispered, “I wanna ride you, Danny, so bad.”

The words hang between you, electrified and dripping with desire. His grip tightened on your hips as his head tilted back against the couch, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded when they met yours. “Yeah?” he murmured, his voice rough, barely restrained. “Want my cock so bad, huh? Take it then. You know what to do.”

Your pulse raced as you slid off his lap, your hands trembling with urgency as you tug your pants down and toss them aside. Daniel mirrored your movements, yanking his pants off with the same haste, the tension still crackling like a live wire despite spending years together.

You slide back onto his lap, your thighs bracketing his hips as his hands immediately find your waist again, steadying you with a firm grip. He holds you steady as you position yourself above him. The head of his cock is hot and heavy against your cunt, the slickness of your arousal coating him as you shift slightly.

Daniel’s breath catches, a low groan slipping past his lips as he murmurs, “fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me here.”

A wicked smile curves your lips as you angle your hips just enough to part your folds using his cock, dragging him against your sensitive clit. The sensation made you shudder, your thighs tightening around him as you repeated the motion, letting your wetness drip down his length.

Each slow, deliberate glide of his cock sends jolts of pleasure coursing through your body, and the sounds escaping him only spur you on.

Daniel moaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he tried to guide you down onto him, but you resisted, keeping him on edge. His teeth gritted as he stared up at you, his eyes dark, simmering with need. “You’re driving me insane, love.”

You tilted your head, letting your lips brush his ear as you whisper, “that’s the point, darling.”

The heat pooling in your belly intensified, and you could feel him twitch against you, his need as unbearable as your own.

“Enough,” Daniel rasped, his voice laced with desperation. “I need to be inside you. Now.”

The command in his tone sent a thrill through you, and finally, you positioned yourself at his tip, your eyes meeting his as you sank down slowly. The stretch is exquisite, the feeling of him filling you inch by inch, stealing a breath from your lungs.

“Fuck, Danny,” you groaned, your eyes fluttering shut. “You feel so good.”

As you finally take him fully, sinking down until there’s no space left between your bodies, Daniel’s head falls forward, resting against your chest. His breath is hot and ragged against your skin, the tension in his body radiating into yours. You clench around him instinctively, a reflex that draws a deep, guttural moan from his throat.

For a moment, he just breathes you in, his lips brushing lightly against your collarbone as he tries to regain control. Then, his eyes lift to meet yours, dark and glazed with need, the weight of his need pulling you under, and you’re acutely aware of every inch of him inside you. The corners of his lips tug upward into a smug, teasing smirk as your body clenches around him again, involuntarily reacting to his presence.

His lips trail over your chest, leaving a searing path of open-mouthed kisses as he moves lower. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he murmured against your skin, the words laced with playful cruelty. “You gonna ride me like you said you wanted? Or are you just gonna sit there looking all pretty and expect me to do all the work?”

Before you can form a retort, he takes your nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak before his teeth graze it just enough to send a shiver cascading down your spine. Your breath catches, and the words on the tip of your tongue dissolve into a soft moan, your fingers tangling in his hair to keep him where you need him most.

As he releases your nipple, a string of spit connects you even as he pulls back. His lips glisten with evidence of his devotion, his tongue flicking out to swipe across his bottom lip before it curled into that maddeningly smug smile.

“What was that?” he drawled, trailing his mouth back up, nipping lightly at your collarbone before pressing a kiss to the curve of your neck, right below your ear. “Had something to say, love? I didn’t quite catch it.” His voice is low and taunting, the vibration of his chuckle against your skin making your hips shift instinctively, drawing a hiss from him.

“You’re such an ass,” you managed to gasp, your nails raking lightly down his back, leaving faint red trails in their wake.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to lock eyes with you, his smirk deepening as he leaned in to brush his lips against the corner of your mouth. “Am I?” he murmured, his tone dripping with mock innocence, though the playful malice lingers in his eyes. “Funny, because from where I’m sitting, you forget everything else the second your pretty little cunt’s full of me.” His voice is low and sinful, every syllable pressing against your already-frazzled nerves.

Your body clenches around him involuntarily at his filthy admission, drawing a deep groan from him that vibrates against your skin. “See that?” he whispered, his lips brushing against your jaw now as his hands guide your hips to roll just slightly. “Can’t even deny it, love. You’re soaking me. Guess I’ve got to do all the work after all, yeah?”

His words are a challenge, and you find yourself snapping back to attention, determination sparking in your gaze. With a deliberate roll of your hips, you make him groan again, his head tipping back slightly. “Not so far gone that I can’t shut you up,” you managed, your voice breathy but steady as you took control, setting a slow, teasing rhythm.

His laughter is low and rough, his head falling forward against your chest as you move, taking him deeper with each roll of your hips. His lips find your skin again, open-mouthed and hungry, sucking and biting just enough to leave faint marks behind. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he rasped against you, his fingers gripping you so tightly you’re sure you’ll see the evidence tomorrow. “Show me how bad you want it.”

Every roll of your hips draws a low, guttural sound from him, the tension in his body unraveling under your control.“That’s it, love,” he groaned, his voice thick and strained. “Fuck, just like that—keep going.” His head falls back against the couch, exposing the curve of his throat, and you can’t resist leaning forward to press your lips there, tracing the salt of his skin with your tongue as you continue to ride him.

His cock stretched you with every movement, hitting that spot in your cunt that made your breath hitch and your thighs tremble. The pleasure was maddening, delicious, and each rise and fall of your hips only made the heat between you burn hotter. Daniel’s hand slipped beneath the curve of your ass to guide you, urging you to go faster, harder.

“You feel so fucking good,” he rasped, his eyes fluttering shut, mouth dropping open. The sight of him—flushed, panting, and completely at your mercy—sent a thrill through you.

“Look at you, taking me so well. So perfect,” he mumbled as his gaze locked with yours. You trapped your bottom lip between your teeth, the praise igniting something reckless inside you.

You lifted yourself slowly, until the tip of his cock remained in your pussy before sinking back down with a sharp roll of your hips. Daniel swore under his breath, his hands flying back to your hips, desperate to keep you from leaving him again. The delicious stretch of him filling you completely again made you shudder, a broken moan escaping your lips.

“Fuck,” you whispered. “You like that, Danny? Like watching me take every inch of you?”

His response is a strained groan, one of his hands sliding up to cup your boob as he thrusted upwards, meeting your movements. The sudden shift in pace made you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders for balance. “Love watching you,” he murmured, his lips curving into a wicked grin. “Watching you fall apart on my cock. You can’t get enough, can you?”

You shake your head, your breath hitching as the pleasure builds to a fever pitch. “No… I can’t,” you admitted, your voice a trembling whisper. “You’re too good… too fucking good.”

His other hand slides in between your legs, his thumb finding your clit, pressing down just enough to send a jolt of pleasure racing through your body. You cry out, your movements faltering for a moment as the combined sensation becomes overwhelming.

“Come on sweetheart,” Daniel urged, “give it to me. I want to feel you cum around my cock.”

The desperation in his voice, the raw need, sends you spiraling closer to the edge. Your hips move frantically now, chasing the release that’s just out of reach. Daniel’s thumb circled your clit faster, tightening his grip on your waist as he thrust up into you, matching your rhythm with brutal precision.

“Daniel—‘m close,” you gasped, your body trembling as the tension coils tighter, ready to snap.

“That’s it,” he whispered, his eyes locked on yours, his voice a rough plea. “Cum for me, love. Let go, I’ve got you.”

His words, his touch, the way he looks at you—it’s too much. The tension snapped, and pleasure crashed over you, your body trembling as you cried out his name. Daniel holds you close, his lips pressing soothing kisses to your neck as you ride out the waves of your orgasm.

The way you tightened around him pushes him over the edge. He thrusts up into you one last time, his body shuddering as he finds his release, a low, guttural groan escaping his lips. He clings to you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he breathes through the aftershocks, his heart pounding in time with yours.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, content to simply exist in each other’s arms, skin pressed against skin, hearts beating as one. The scent of pine from the Christmas tree filled the air, blending with the sweet, lingering scent of cinnamon from the candles still burning on the mantel, but the room that was once wrapped in the cozy, comforting embrace of the holiday season is now mixed with the unmistakable scent of sex.

Your fingers slid lazily through Daniel’s damp curls, the mess of them from earlier making you smile. He looks up at you with a lazy grin, his eyes still dark with the remnants of desire but softened with something tender. His thumb traced gentle circles against your hip, grounding you in the moment, and it’s perfect—just you, him, and the warmth of the season cocooning you both.

Your gaze wandered slowly around the room, landing on the kitchen, and then it hit you—

“The hot cocoa!” you exclaimed, your eyes widening as you remembered. “We were supposed to—”

Daniel’s hand grazed your cheek, pulling your focus back to him as his grin widened into something mischievous. His lips brushed against yours in a featherlight kiss. “Reheat it later,” he whispered, his fingers tightening slightly on your hip. “We’re not done yet.”

Your breath catches as his eyes lock with yours, a spark of renewed heat flickering between you. His hands are already slipping between your legs, teasing your clit as his lips find yours again, slow and deep, making you forget about everything else except him.

The cocoa can wait. Winter just got a whole lot warmer.

taglist: @lilorose25 @thenotoriouserg @a-distantdreamer @leclercsluvs @fat-meh @wintxr-widow @amirahart

[milkteabinniechan]

♡His Brother's Bride - Felix

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: old money! Felix x fem! reader

summary: You're to be married to a respectable, eligible bachelor to bring your two families businesses together. But what happens when you fall for the brother instead?

warnings: none really! Lots of fluff, some angst.

a/n: this is a shorter one I'm sorry! I'm still getting back into the swing of things. But I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope it shows :)

There was a lull in the conversation. A moment of silence. And that was all it took for Felix to move in closer. Closer than a friend would stand. Close like a lover, his hands came up and around your sides. His fingers traced the intricate pearls that lined the corset of your wedding dress. You held your breath while his hands continued their journey up your spine. Each passing second he was bringing you in closer and closer.

“Don't marry him.”

Your eyes trailed across his tailor made suit, soaking in every detail of the expensive tuxedo your husband-to-be had picked out for his best man. A matching suit with his brother. Why did it have to be his brother? Your father owned one of the largest wineries in the state. The only other one that even compared belonged to Felix's family. It will be good for business. Your father declared very matter-of-fact one evening at the dinner table. You would marry the eldest son of the rival company and the two wineries would merge into one giant, money-making machine of capitalism and greed. You knew the boy your father spoke of. An eligible bachelor that was handsome and worldly. But you wanted to know more. So you hatched a plan to learn as much as you could about your new fiance. When your family and his would come together to meet and agree on the fine print, you would disguise yourself as someone unassuming and blend into the crowd. 

The dinner party was a shitty mask for what was really happening. Two rich old men were about to get a hell of a lot richer. You made your way across the room and spotted a well dressed man standing alone. He had long, blonde hair and freckles splayed across his cheeks and nose. He smiled politely at a man walking by and your heart jumped for a moment.

“How's the food?” You asked, sidling up next to him.

The man paused and turned to face you. That warm smile returned but more sincere this time. “Eh. Rich people have no taste, ya know?” He scoffed and pointed over to the dinner table adorned with food that looked delicious but you knew from experience that that was far from the truth.

You held in a loud laugh that came out as a snort. “So this isn't your first dinner party then.” You teased, nudging his arm slightly and trying to ignore the obvious muscle underneath the expensive suit.

The two of you talked for the better part of an hour. You gave him a fake name and told him you were some distant cousin from across the water. He didn't pry, accepting your lie as fact almost immediately. He told you his name as well. The sound of it seemed to ring in your ears like the bells of a church. Then he told you his brother was getting married. An arranged marriage. He was getting fitted for a tuxedo just next week. You swallowed hard at the sound of arranged marriage. The words echoed coldly.

“What's he like- your brother?” You moved in close, your head cocked to the side casually.

Felix stepped back for a minute and looked across the room at where his brother was standing. His mouth quickly curled up into a warm, affectionate smile. “He's great. He's going to take great care of his new bride.” You sighed heavily. Your hand falling back onto the table while you let your shoulders relax. “Good.” You said curtly.

Felix tilts his head in confusion. His lips part for a moment as if he wants to ask you more but instead he stops and hands you a glass of wine from the table beside you. He holds it out to you, his fingers brushing against yours as you take it. A spark of electricity seems to pass between you at the touch, and he lingers for a moment before pulling back. You hold the wine tight in your hand hoping that the feeling of the cold glass will ground you and keep you from floating away. For a moment, neither of you say a word. But your eyes are screaming into his while a string quartet fills the silence between you. Felix moves on instinct, his body closing the gap as your lips inch closer to one another. You part your lips and crane your neck, all sense of social etiquette left somewhere on the other side of the world. Then an ear-splitting sound pierces through the euphoria as your father calls for you to join him. Felix's eyes shoot open as he connects the dots with who you really are. “You're the one my brother is marrying?” His voice is full of pain and betrayal. You want to apologize and tell him you can explain but your father shouts again and you follow him into his study, leaving Felix standing alone again. The smudge of your lipstick still lingering on the edge of the wine glass.

“Today is the big day! Are you excited?” Your mother buzzed around you while two women pinned your hair back tight. “Just thrilled.” You groaned back. Your mother rolled her eyes and poured herself another glass of champagne. You waited until everyone had left you alone to finish getting ready before you made your way outside onto the grass. You struggled to lift your dress and run at the same time, tripping and tumbling slightly as you moved. You just need air. You needed to breathe. To take stock of what was about to happen. What was about to happen?

“Are we running away?” A deep voice hummed from behind you. You twirled around to see Felix standing there with a playful smirk. “Just say the word and I'll start the car.” He had his hands in his pockets but he lifted his chin up towards the cars parked nearby. You smile softly. A sad, desperate laugh escapes your throat. “Sounds good. We'll be runaways together.” You whisper back, your face hanging low. Felix gently lifts your chin, bringing your face to his. “As long as we're together.”

A moment of silence. A second alone. You could feel the heat coming from Felix's body as he leaned in. Your eyes glance at his lips and then to his eyes. His hand dragging from your chin down to the back of your neck. “Before you say ‘I do’, I want to kiss you first.” Your eyes flutter closed, and he parts his lips slightly. He leans in the rest of the way, pressing his mouth to yours in a soft, gentle kiss. He pulls back after a moment, his breath hitching as he looks at you, his eyes filled with love and affection. You pull him in again without warning, kissing him deeper. A marking kiss telling him that he was the first. That your lips belonged to him.

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25 @queen-in-the-shadows @itgirlalisaa @miinhoo @greyaia @chanchansgirly @skzleeknowcore @skz-smut-reader @thatisrankharry @hearts4yawnzzn @jchotch726 @cherricola-star @minh0scat

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Hi I’ve been thinking about this request for poly!plastics for a while now. So basically everyone knows that Regina gets angry and when she does people just don’t part ways with her. However, y/n is worse especially when she doesn’t get her full sleep which she didn’t get bc Gretchen and Karen were up and loud. (Y/n would never fault them bc she just loves them so much and their quirks). So throughout the school day, everyone has been getting on Y/n nerves like making comments about her girls etc. at lunch time, cady decided to make a “joke” about Karen being dumb, Regina being a bitch, etc and Y/n just explodes. Maybe heavy make out sess or smut after to calm Y/n down.

Slow Boil

|| Poly!plastics x fem!reader

(I myself am poly)

|| Warnings: swearing, reader almost punches Cady, reader has an attitude, little make out session at the end but nothing overly detailed or anything

|| Summary: reader doesn't get enough sleep, the next day people get on her nerves and it pushes her to a boiling point where she snaps at Cady for insulting her girls.

Requests open!

~~~

To say you were exhausted would be an understatement. You barely got any sleep the night before with Gretchen and Karen being up all night giggling and gossiping. How Regina slept through them... you didn't know, but God you were envious of her sleeping abilities. Though you would never blame or get mad at Gretchen and Karen. You would however be frustrated at yourself for not falling asleep sooner.

The day seemed to drag on. As if seconds were really minutes and minutes were hours. Classes taking too long to complete. In Health & Fitness you just gave up and fell asleep, head rested on your desk with one arm folded around it and other stretched out in front of you. Cady glanced at you and raised an eyebrow.

The bell woke you from your sleep and you groaned, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. At least it was lunch. You'd get to see your girlfriends.

"Sleeping beauty rises." Mr. Carr comments, getting a few laughs from some kids in the back. You roll your eyes at him.

"I bet you thought that was clever. Do everyone a favour and keep your damn puns to yourself." Mr. Carr seemed taken aback by your attitude, usually you didn't have one. You were known for being kind and laid back. Not snappy and agitated. For that reason, he decides to let it go. Not without giving you a small warning lecture first. It certainly didn't make your mood any better.

You left the class, a sharp (sleep filled) glare glossing over your eyes as you walk through the halls. Some conversations catching your attention, people seemed to be talking about your girlfriends a lot lately. The things they were saying weren't always positive and that just did nothing to improve your mood. One voice in particular catches your attention. Cady.

You snapped your head in her direction, seeing her chatting with those art freaks Janis and Damien.

"Honestly, Karen's gotta be the dumbest person I've ever met. When I went to Regina's house Regina told Karen she would help her with her eyebrows and Karen asked if she could still have two." Cady talked, Damien and Janis laughed. You could feel your blood boiling," Speaking of Regina, don't even get me started on her. She is such a bi-"

"The next word out of your mouth better fucking be "bi icon" or I swear to every God that's listening..!" You yelled, taking a step towards Cady who froze in place. Damien and Janis exchanged a look.

"Y-Y/N, I didn't think-" You cut Cady off.

"Clearly! What the hell, Cady?! They've been nothing but nice- well, to your face- and this how you repay them?" You were livid. The news about you fighting with Cady quickly spread throughout the school, eventually reaching your girlfriends who sprang into action. Hoping to stop things before it escalated.

Regina got there first and put herself between you and Cady right as you had been about to strike. You pause the moment you see Regina and your arm falls to your side. Gretchen and Karen link their arms around yours and keep you back while Regina sighs.

"Baby, take a breath for me." Regina says, you ignore her and look at Cady. She snaps her fingers in your face," Don't look at her. Look at me."

You listen. Reluctantly.

"Breathe." Regina urges, hand resting on your shoulder. When that doesn't work she grabs you by your wrist and pulls you to the bathroom, Gretchen and Karen quickly following behind.

Once there, they all turn and face you.

"What was all that about?" Gretchen asks.

"Cady was being a total bitch." You mutter, arms folded across your chest.

"You mean like Cady Heron?" Karen looks confused.

"No, KD Mac and Cheese." You snap, then realize who you just snapped at. Regina narrows her eyes at you. Karen frowned and you relaxed your shoulders.

"I'm sorry... I just- didn't get any sleep last night and my patience has been pushed to the edge today because of it..." You admit in a mumble, hand covering your face as you tilted your head down. You felt bad.

Gretchen took a step towards you and wrapped her arms around your shoulders, pulling you into her side as she moves her hand away from your face. Giving you a deep, soft kiss that you immediately melt into. Hands resting gently around Gretchen to pull her closer. You could feel as your body finally relaxed. Whatever anger you had being washed away.

She broke the kiss and rested her hand to your cheek," Better?"

"I could maybe use a couple more kisses..." You smile sheepishly, looking over at Regina and Karen. Your girlfriends laugh softly and the tension in the room seems to fade.

[lipglossanon]

Day 22

Kink: Bondage

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x Las Plagas!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, bondage, Leon POV, coercion, noncon with hints of cnc, aphrodisiacs, dirty talk, degradation, unprotected sex, breeding kink AND breeding 👀, creampie

not proofread

Leon thinks it’s a lab he’s stumbled into; it would make sense with all the other crazy shit down here. Like who the hell needs killer laser grids as security?

But it’s different from the other ones he’s been in so far; there are full fledged humans floating in tanks in the middle of the room with a bank of computers off to the side. Walking over, he checks the screens to see if he can make heads or tails of anything. 

That’s when you stumble into the room, wearing an ill fitting outfit, like a girl playing dress up as a scientist. 

He turns, gun aiming at you but with his finger off the trigger. 

“Who’re you?”

“Me?” You blink at him, one eye at a time like an owl. 

Frowning at you, he quickly glances to make sure his safety is off before stepping closer. 

“What’s your name?” 

He tries a different approach; you look like you’ve been rode hard and put up wet—in other words, fucked. 

You look around in confusion, hand raising up to press against your temple. 

“I-I don’t remember,” you whisper. “I don’t know where this is or, or how I got here.”

You stutter over your words, voice rising in panic. Wild eyes turn back to him. 

“Did you bring me here?!”

Holstering his gun, Leon holds his hands out placatingly, “Hey.. hey, I can help you. The name’s Leon.”

Your brows furrow cutely and he gives you a little smile. 

“Why don’t we take a look around and see if anything jogs your memory?”

He poses it as question although it’s more of a directive. Something to give you some focus. Leon takes point and covers the entire room with you as his shadow. Coming across a clipboard on the corner table, he pauses to look through the list of names. Each line holds a name with a description of the person, all next to a little box that lists what experiment they fall under as well as any outcomes. 

The next to last name is smudged to hell and back, so Leon can’t make it out at all, but you fit the description to a T; alarm bells blaring in his brain, Leon steels himself to read the rest. 

A handful of words jump out at him:

Infected. Test run: Queen Plaga. ACTIVE. 

It takes a lot to make Leon feel caught off guard—especially since he’s already neck deep into this nightmare mission—but your presence at his back makes him feel vulnerable in an entirely different way. 

Placing the clipboard back down, he tries to keep up his nonchalant, helpful persona. 

“Is anything coming back to you at all?” He turns around to face you, but it’s only empty space. 

His eyes catch on a door closing on the other side of the room; it blends in perfectly with the walls once it shuts, so he keeps his eye on it as he walks over. Gently easing it open, he raises his gun as he moves into the room. It’s an office, divided with partitions into three cubicles from what he can tell. 

Leon can hear you moving around at the far end, muttering to yourself. Sneaking closer, he steps around the gray divider, pointing his gun at you. 

“Let’s just take it easy,” he glances around to make sure the office is truly empty; in doing so, he misses the tail slowly descending from your lab coat. 

Quicker than a flash, you wrap your new appendage around his chest, pinning his arms in place. A quick swipe of your hands at his own, makes him drop the gun and he listens to it hit the ground with a metal clatter. 

You shove him down into a chair, tail tightening around him so he can’t move. His mind flashes to the fight he had earlier with Rámon’s right hand.

“I-I didn’t want this,” you tear up. “I was sick. They said they could help me, so I came here and now I.. I-I’m different.”

“Don’t panic,” Leon softens his voice. “Look, we can get you help. There’s a machine down here that can get rid of it.”

Hands shaking, you bring them up to squeeze your head. 

“I want that, but—“

Doubling over, you gasp in pain, hands dropping down to your pelvis. Leon watches as you collapse onto your knees. He wiggles, but your tail doesn’t budge an inch. You convulse for half a minute as he watches on in sympathy. He struggles again, but it leads to nowhere. As fast as your symptoms came on, they stop. 

Under his gaze, you push yourself back up onto your feet, body moving oddly, like a marionette. 

“Are you okay? If you let me go, I can help—“

Your head snaps up and you give him a big toothpaste ad kinda smile. 

“Oh, everything’s fine. Perfectly in sync.”

You frown at him and Leon’s heart rate picks up. Something’s off in a big way and he’s practically a sitting duck. 

“But you, you got rid of my gift.”

It feels like ice water douses his veins. 

You click your tongue, “And that just won’t do, will it, Leon?”

He tries harder to get out of your grip, but after a few minutes he slumps back into the chair, winded and defeated. 

“Silly,” you shake your head, turning your attention to the desk. 

He eyes the cables you begin to rip out of everything. Once you think you have enough, you walk right up to him. Your hands make quick work of tying his arms and legs to the chair. Once he’s secured, you remove your tail. 

“There,” you step back with another smile. “We can have a civil transaction.”

He tugs at his arms uselessly, the power cables cutting into his wrists and making him bleed. 

You straddle his lap, “Now, be a good boy and this will all be over soon.”

Dread weighs heavy on his chest as you quickly undo his pants and pull out his soft cock. He bucks underneath you, but it doesn’t do any good. You tease your fingers across his tip and he starts to chub up. Leon’s always been easy, but he’s never hated himself for it more than now. 

“Don’t do this,” he pleads. “We can—“

“Uh uh,” you chastise playfully, pushing three of your fingers into his mouth. “Good boys are seen not heard.”

His cock leaks at your words. You feather your fingers up and down his growing length until he’s stiff and heavy in your hand. His tip blurts precum when you giggle at him. 

“My, my, what an eager, little boy,” you whisper at him like it’s a secret. 

His cock throbs in your hand at your mocking endearment. 

“Now, Agent,” you sit up straighter in his lap, fingers tapping against his tongue. “Since you so cruelly removed my sweet plagas from your chest, you’ll gift me with your seed.”

Your other hand slowly jerks him off and he whimpers. 

“Breed me and we’ll call it even,” you murmur, eyes half lidded; Leon can’t stop his cock from twitching. 

“Oh?” You grin, tail coming up to wrap around his chest again. “You like breeding soft, hot cunts, don’t you?”

He wishes you’d just kill him, embarrassment and shame filling his chest as his cock stiffens and bobs in your grip. 

“Don’t worry,” you let go of his dick to pat his cheek. “You’re going to creampie me for as long as I need.”

You slide your fingers from his mouth and kiss him, drooling so much saliva he has to swallow before he chokes. Pulling away, he coughs as you shove your fingers back into his mouth. 

“A little aphrodisiac never hurt anyone,” you laugh, raising your hips to slide your slacks and panties completely off.

The blood rushing through his ears muffles anything you just said. You settle back down, sandwiching his cock between your thighs to grind your wet slit against him. Using your free hand, you grab the base of his dick and notch it at your drippy hole. Leon groans against your fingers as he feels you sink all the way down on him, balls pressing against your ass. 

You raise up with a mewl and sink down on his cock again. 

“Oh, this feels…” you trail off with a moan. 

He can’t stop himself and starts sucking and laving his tongue against your fingers. His whole body feels like it’s on fire and wants nothing more than to cum deep in your fat pussy. He knows he shouldn’t like it, but Leon can’t think past the slow deep strokes of his cock fucking your cunt. 

“Good boy, you’ve learned your place so quickly,” you croon and he groans, arousal making his thoughts syrupy. 

“Your balls must be so full,” you simper next to his ear, walls fluttering and squeezing his cock like crazy. “It aches, doesn’t it? You just need to empty those fat, heavy balls deep into my pussy; it’ll feel so good.”

Leon can’t take it, your snug little pussy gripping his cock like you were made for it. Shuddering, his eyes roll back as he spills deep inside your cunt. 

“Ooh, yess, that’s it Agent, breed me full,” you murmur against his ear and he shoots off a few more ropes of cum into your clenching hole. 

“Doesn’t that feel nice? Breeding such a wet, needy pussy?”

His thighs twitch and he whines around the fingers in his mouth. It’s like you’ve dosed him with something, he thinks, as his cock thickens again, stretching your cum filled pussy once more. 

“We’ve got all the time in the world,” you promise. 

[spicycinnabun]

pt. 1 2 4 5 6 7 💐

The third time Eddie stopped by Harrington Floral, it was simply because he felt drawn to it.

The world had been dumping on him lately, and looking at the arrangements was a nice distraction from another college application rejected, another job prospect gone down the toilet because he just “wasn’t the right fit”, his friends leaving Hawkins because they had gotten into colleges, Corroded Coffin officially disbanding, and losing his D&D group, having passed the torch on to Will after he graduated.

Real life wasn’t shaping up to be very metal at all.

The only good thing to transpire was the news Wayne had broken to him last night over their Swanson TV dinners. He had met the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

They had been dating for a few months now, much to Eddie’s surprise. Wayne said when you got to his age, you didn’t fuck around with time. When you knew, you knew.

He wanted Eddie to meet her before he popped the question—not that he needed Eddie’s blessing. It was great for him. He deserved to have someone, especially after going so long denying himself the chance.

Maybe Wayne could finally start his own family that didn’t include his mooching failure of a nephew.

Eddie had about a month to get his shit together, find a (legal, decent paying) job, a place to live, and scram. Wayne told him he didn’t have to be so hasty, that the trailer was his home and he could stay as long as he damn well pleased, but there was no way Eddie was about to crash Wayne’s newlywed life.

It was time for Eddie to finally make his own way in the world. He just wished he knew what direction to take.

In his pocket was the phone number of a dude who needed a roommate. He’d torn it off an ad he found taped to a payphone outside the mall.

He would call tonight. Maybe it would pan out. Maybe it wouldn’t.

The When I Think of You bouquet had long since been sold and replaced. The new one in the display window was called Wedding Bells, Eddie guessed, because it had bell-shaped flowers. They were an assortment of white, reds and yellows, with baby’s breath layered in between.

Maybe Eddie would place an order for Wayne’s wedding. He wondered, too, if he would ever get married. Probably not. It wasn’t legal and most likely wouldn’t ever be.

Not only that, but he would have to find someone willing to spend their entire life with him. That seemed… as likely as hell freezing over. Eddie knew he was a lot to handle for a single week, let alone years or a whole damn lifetime.

Eddie leaned over to smell one of the dramatic, bridal white Angel’s Trumpets.

He’d always enjoyed flowers. He had a tattoo of one on his inner arm, another small ode to his mother, but he wanted more. He wished there wasn’t such a stigma about men liking them. It wasn’t fair, but neither was most shit in life.

🌷🪻🌻🌹

co-writing this with @batty4steddie 💕

steve’s pov is next!