#it's ya pal jean

[avalons-agent]

if i ever make another oc blog or twitter or whatever internet thing i want the profile description to be "realize the power of media misinterpretation"

[shotmrmiller]

simon isn't a man you take home. he's for the literal streets. dresses like he's homeless because all that matters is that his throwing knives and handguns are pristine. the only reason his home is spotless is because he doesn't live in it, it's all for show. his pantry has only salt and mouse traps, his fridge a long expired bottle of ketchup and something that if anyone ate, they'd gain superpowers.

he's got a crazy look in his eye, and who can blame him after all that shit he's been through? gut-wrenching betrayal, unimaginable torture, then buried alive shoulder to shoulder with his ol rotting buddy, ol decaying pal? he joined the military a butcher's apprentice, and now he's an echo of what simon riley used to be, a fading silhouette that wanders the corridors in base. a ghost.

he has to play music whenever he's not at work just to keep the screaming voices in his head at bay, and it has to be loud enough to drown out the incessant high-pitched ringing in his ears. a cacophony of noise that wears his thin string of patience into in-existence.

he's a killer, he's a man who's donned his skull mask for so long that he's forgotten the face underneath.

you don't bring a man like him home. and when you eventually did, even your parents had agreed.

he looks one clown short of a circus.

he hovers over you like a ghost. (ha)

possessive, obsessive, paranoid.

he'll kill you if you try to leave him.

simon heard everything, not like they had tried to keep their voice down. it hadn't really mattered to him, empty words pelting knotted flesh only a sharpened knife could cut through. but you hadn't taken any of it.

his little hero, coming to his defense. it'd been the first time- in a long time- that his icy cold, tiny heart skipped a beat.

simon's always been his own savior. he saved himself from the shit life he had with his family by joining the army. he'd clawed his way out of his own grave, freshly turned soil stuck under his fingernails for weeks. he'd gone after the head of roba, in the name of vengeance. even now, he's a part of the justice league, the task force 141.

unsung heroes.

and here you were, standing in your parent's kitchen, all bared teeth and scalding temper- over him.

simon's so aroused that when he rises from where he's seated, he sways on his feet. there's no stopping him from briskly walking over to you and hoisting you up and over his shoulder, heading for the door.

there's no stopping him from throwing you into the backseat, and climbing in after.

you weakly try to stop him with stammered words, just wanting to know what the fuck he's doing but when simon starts to impatiently undo the button of your jeans, his confined manhood pushing up underneath you, it clicks.

you don't want him to stop when the calloused pad of his thumb rubs your slippery clit with expertise, thick fingers curling inside your swollen cunt.

you definitely don't want him to stop when his cock slides through your slick folds, his hand wrapped around his thick base. his tip pushes inside, mild discomfort already flaring. gravity then does the work, slowly sinking you onto him until his thighs are flush against your arse. the sweet, decadent burn of him splitting you in half sparking your nerve endings alight, from the waist to your knees.

you beg him not to stop when he fucks you in earnest; desire, sticky and wet, dampening the coarse trimmed hair of his cock. the air inside the truck muggy, heavy and thick with sex. he places his hand under your navel, right when he knows he is, and grunts when he gently presses down. the noises coming from you and your sodden pussy are obscene, lewd, downright vulgar and he wonders if you'd let him record it- to replace the banal music he usually listens to.

your breath hitches beautifully, and simon makes sure to watch how you let go of his shoulder to weave that hand downward to take yourself over the edge.

"impatient little pet, can't even wait f'me to get ya there, eh?" the low chuckle he lets out is cut short at the feeling of your slick walls fluttering around him, making him groan. he keeps his sharp gaze on you when your body tenses, back arching as you jerk fast, little circles over your pearl. he plants his feet and begins to thrust upward, your weight nothing to his strength and-

how beautiful you look in the pleasure he brings you.

it's cliche, truly, that he comes when you do, but he couldn't care less in this instance. your cunt squeezes him like a silken fist, a tight vice that milks his cock almost painfully so. his grip around your waist is bruising, but it only adds to the sensation- the delightful bite of pain prolonging your pleasure.

the base of his spine tingles from his climax, and his breathing is ragged. alive. your hands skim the wide breadth of his chest, as if brushing off the dirt he'd once been buried under.

his little hero.

you took him home, so now he takes you to his.

(...don't look in the kitchen, pet.)

[icepoptroll]

@rtcpickyourpoison day 5: Penny/Jane - Jail

AU where Penny completely took the fall for the events of Legoland so that Ezra could grow up living free. Ocean is her court-ordered good noodle.

Image description under the cut.

Page 1:

Panel 1: Penny in tan prison scrubs walking with a guard behind her on either side. The background is gray but a white light shines behind her head resembling a halo. Her expression shows sadness and apprehension. Her brown hair is in two long French braids.

Panel 2: Ezra is sitting in a chair, waving and smiling nervously. He holds Penny's doll in his lap. He says, "Hi-ya, Penny Lamb."

Panel 3: The guards fade into the background and Penny smiles excitedly. She is trying to wave, but she's wearing handcuffs. She says, "Ezra, hi! Oh my gosh, you brought Dolly! Thank you!"

Page 2:

Panel 1: A closeup of the doll and Ezra's hands around her. He says, "Yes, but. . . She can't stay. Your captors will not allow me to leave her with you. Only bring her to visit." He then goes on to say, ". . . Penny, I'm sorry, this is all my fault, if I had just--!" and Penny interrupts him, saying, "Ezra, NO."

Panel 2: Penny jerks her head toward one of the guards and reminds him, "This was all MY fault, remember? It was MY bad decision to take your medication and profit from it. I was a bad big sister. The drug trafficking, the violence, it was all ME. I should have never forced you to come along. Don't blame yourself. I was happy to. . . admit my mistakes. Got it?"

Panel 3: Ezra looks down sadly and responds, ". . . Got it."

Panel 4: Penny smiles gently and answers, "Good."

Panel 5: Penny gives him a sad smile, shadows on the guards behind her resembling angel wings. She says, "Learn from my mistakes and you'll be alright. Love you, Ez'. Be safe, be good."

Page 3:

Panel 1: Ocean, wearing jeans and a pink tank top with a baby blue cardigan, sitting off to the side with her arms crossed protectively over her chest, interjects, "Oh. . . I see that the program is already working wonders for you."

Panel 2: Penny leans in, a confused look on her face, and Ezra looks down, still saddened by the situation. Penny asks him, "Uhh, Ez'? Who is that? And why is she talking to us?"

Panel 3: We see Ocean at a desk, writing. She explains via narration, "Oh, Penny, dear. I'm your pen pal, from the Unlock the Power of the Positive program!"

Panel 4: Penny is laying on her stomach on her bunk, writing on a piece of paper against the cinderblock wall. Ocean's narration continues, "Every week I look forward to writing to you. . . And to hearing back from you."

Panels 5 and 6: Two side-by-side closeups of letters Ocean and Penny have written each other. They're cut off so no full sentences are shown, but Ocean's letter explains that like Penny's family, hers also has a history of using and dealing illicit drugs, but that cycles can be broken if she believes in herself. Penny's letter is about being hungry, not having enough food, and missing Ezra, the Happy Meals they used to have together on the road, and her Dolly.

Page 4:

Panel 1: Penny looks sort of amused. She says, "Wait. YOU'RE Ocean O'Connell-Rosenberg? My court-appointed good influence??? You're tinier and cuter than I had imagined."

Panel 2: Ocean, red in the face and wide-eyed, presses a finger to her lips and tries to hide her face from onlookers. "Shh!! Don't say my full name so loud in here!!"

Panel 3: Penny's handcuffed hand reaches for Ocean's, Ocean's fingernails painted a cherry red. Penny explains, "Aw, don't worry, most of the kids in here aren't actually that bad. Take me for instance."

Panel 4: Penny reaches across, holding both Ocean's hands and smiling. "I didn't actually cannibalize JK-47 like the rumors say. I just bit him! Really hard."

[hookedonhuge]

A Hard Challenger to Beat

Wednesday night was men-only at the small country town bar. Living in a remote area could get awfully boring at times, but boy’s night was a highlight for most of the men’s weeks. There was truly nothing like blowing off some steam with your pals after a hard day’s work. No hassles, no consequences, just dudes having fun.

One of the main attractions on Wednesday nights was the Beat Billy pool challenge. The challenge was simple: play Billy in a game of pool, if you lose you have to give him ten dollars, and if you win then you get a special reward.

What was the special reward? If you saw Billy in action, it wouldn’t take long to find out. Every Wednesday night you could find Billy bent over the pool table lining up for a shot, with his big butt sticking out and his jeans, stuffed with ten dollar notes, looking like they’re about to split. 

Yep, the special reward was an all-expense paid trip down to pound town (also known as the last stall in the men’s bathroom) with the one and only, Bubble Butt Billy. It was a shame that Billy was the best darn pool player in that town and the next town over. 

It was a lucrative business for Billy, who never once had to surrender his pride to another man. However, it was speculated that the Beat Billy challenge was more profitable for the bar than it was for Billy himself. The challenge drew large crowds of pent-up men, some, who in their lustful delusions, thought themselves skilled or lucky enough to earn themselves some quality time with Billy’s behind, and others, who were more financially conscious, would instead egg on their pals to give the challenge a go just for the chance to see Billy bend over the pool table a couple more times.

Without a fault, each Wednesday night would bring to the bar a rowdy crowd, despite how predictable the events of the night were. Billy would pocket a nice amount spending money at the expense of his hopeful challengers, and the patrons would get their fair share of Bubble Butt Billy action. Billy barely had to try against his challengers and was eager to play a game of pool against an actually formidable opponent, and on one Wednesday night he got exactly that.

It was a Wednesday night that seemed to be going the same as every other Wednesday before it. Billy had just defeated yet another challenger and was counting ten dollar bills with his signature cocky smirk painted across his face. “Anyone else want to challenge me?” he said, teasing his audience by leaning his upper body ever so slightly over the pool table.

“I will.” An unfamiliar voice boomed from the back of the room. Billy turned around to size up the stranger. Billy, who was never short of words to belittle his upcoming challengers, was silent. It wasn’t the stranger’s face that left Billy at a loss for words; his eyes hadn’t even gotten up that far. Billy’s gaze was stuck on the bulging mass that was tenting the stranger’s tight jeans. For the first time in a long while Billy remembered the consequences of losing the challenge, his mind trapped in thoughts of how his virgin hole would fare if he lost this one time. 

“My eyes are up here buddy,” the stranger said in a playful tone, strutting towards Billy with an irresistible swagger. “Just teasin’ ya. The name’s Rick,” he said warmly, reaching his hand out for a handshake. “I’d like to challenge you to a game of pool. I’m sure that wouldn’t be a problem.”

Billy snapped out of his daze and shook Rick’s hand. “You’re new around here, so I’ll have to warn you not to get your hopes up,” Billy said, building up his confident facade again. “I haven’t even been trying tonight.”

“I expect nothing but your best.” Rick was unfazed. “I’ll let you break.” 

Billy picked up his cue stick and the white ball as Rick set up the rest of the balls to break. As he had done a hundred times before, Billy got ready to begin play, lining his cue stick up to hit the white ball as his butt pointed out towards the leering spectators. Usually, Billy was so quick in his play that his opponent’s wouldn’t have time to register that the match had started. That night, Billy wasn’t so fast to start.

The cause of Billy’s delay was his opponent, who was standing on the opposite side of the table with his crotch directly in Billy’s line of sight. Rick’s hands were on his waist and he leaned just a little bit back to accentuate his large package.

“All bark and no bite,” Billy muttered under his breath. Billy struck the white ball, which jetted in the group of remaining balls causing them to scatter. Not a single ball had been potted into one of the holes, which was unusual for Billy.

It was Rick’s turn and he grabbed one of the cue sticks from the rack. He stroked the long wooden stick with his powerful hand lewdly under the guise of surveying its quality. “You know where I’m from, they call me Thick Stick Rick,” he said to Billy as he walked past him, meeting Billy’s gaze with a wink.

Rick quickly potted two balls in a row with ease, putting Billy on the back foot. Billy countered with his renowned precision. He potted three balls in quick succession and set himself up for an easy put away with a fourth.

The white ball had rolled to the centre of the large table meaning that Billy had to lean over extra far to reach it, causing his two large cheeks to stretch his jean fabric to its limit. Billy, who had been able to regain focus in the match, was about to sink his ball into one of the pockets when he felt something large and hard brush up against his crack. He turned around to see Rick towering over his lower half.

“Hey, you have to win first before you can have any of that,” Billy snapped, audibly annoyed.

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to bump into you,” Rick said, feigning sincerity. “I just forget how big I am sometimes.”

Billy tried his best to brush off Rick’s comment and struck the white ball, but it clearly affected him as the ball he was aiming for, which was set up so well, bounced off the rim of the pocket and back towards the centre of the pool table. Billy swore under his breath; he never missed a shot like that.

“Don’t stress about it,” Rick said, placing his middle and index finger into one of the pockets. “These holes are so tight,” he wriggled his two fingers, “that these balls only just fit in.”

Rick’s innuendos had a marked effect on Billy, allowing Rick to even the scoreboard in spite of the vast difference in their skill levels. Each player now had one ball each to put away before they could go for the win by potting the eight ball. It was Billy’s turn and he was once again bent over the table, ass in the air, and lining up for a shot.

“Looking good Billy boy.” Rick chimed in as Billy was doing some practice shots in front of the white ball to check he had the right alignment.

“I don’t need you to help me with my alignment, I’m the expert… '' Billy trailed off as he realised Rick wasn’t commenting on his shot preparation. Instead, Rick’s eyes were glued to Billy’s famous butt.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just keeping my eyes on the prize,” Rick said, biting his bottom lip.

Billy tried to ignore Rick and went ahead with his shot. He managed to pot his final ball, but foolishly sunk the white ball as well. The crowd, who had fallen silent from the tension of the match, let out a gasp when Billy made this rare error.

Rick was able to sink his final ball as well, leaving the two in a race to pot the eight ball first for the win. Rick had no success on his first attempt as the eight ball was stuck in a tricky position. His comparative lack of experience showed as Rick was not careful enough to put the eight ball in a difficult position for his opponent to finish off.

All Billy needed to do was hit a straight shot from one end of the table to the other, which was easy for a player like himself. Rick, the schemer he was, was still not out of ideas. He moved himself behind the pocket Billy was planning to sink the eight ball into and started grinding his huge bulge against that corner pocket.

“How badly do you want to get into this hole, cause I want to get into this hole real bad,” Rick said with a slight grunt. Billy stayed silent. “It’s only a small hole Billy boy, it could be a real struggle to fit in.” Billy lined up his shot. “God Billy,” Rick’s voice turned low and rough as he took a step back from the table and squeezed his tightly wrapped manhood with his hand. “I’m a big boy, and I’m not even hard yet. You can’t even imagine the damage I could do to your bussy, or is that what you want? Have you been going easy on me on purpose Billy boy?”

Billy’s face was red from a mixture of anger and fear. He was sweating profusely and his hands were trembling. Billy drew his cue stick back then thrusted it forward with as much might as possible. The white ball rocketed into the eight ball which slammed into the pocket. In his desperation, Billy had struck the white ball far too hard and it followed the eight ball into the pocket.

Despair was the only thing that could describe Billy. Sinking the eight ball and fouling in the same shot was an automatic loss. The crowd knew this and roared with excitement. Thick Stick Rick was victorious. 

Billy looked to the crowd, his eyes pleading for mercy. This was futile as the crowd, who had lost a lot of money over the years to Billy, were seeking retribution and Rick would deliver it. 

“Rick! Rick! Thick Stick Rick!” the crowd chanted.

Rick approached the defeated Billy. “I ain’t gonna force you or nothin’ Billy boy, I ain’t like that,” Rick said, placing his hand on Billy’s shoulder. “But if you –”

“I’m a man of my word Rick. I couldn’t show my face in this town again if I didn’t go through with this.” Billy replied earnestly, not letting Rick finish.

“That’s the Bubble Butt Billy I’ve heard so much about. Now don’t you worry, Rick is gonna treat you real nice.” Rick gave Billy’s big butt a friendly smack.

The crowd’s chanting reached a climax as Billy and Rick walked into the men’s bathroom together. “Give ‘em hell Rick!” yelled a frenzied patron.

Soon, the bar fell into silence as the once raucous spectators listened suspensefully. At first there was no sound coming from the bathroom. After a little while a faint banging noise could be heard. It got louder and louder, until Billy’s moaning commenced. Billy reached a transcendent state, his shameless moans of pleasure filling up the bar and causing the pants of everyone in it to become a little more snug. Some opted to loosen their belts to relieve the pressure that was quickly building below.

“That son of a whore Billy is really enjoying this isn’t he?” commented one of the bargoers.

“Rick sure is a stallion!” remarked another.

“Billy won’t be able to walk properly for a week!” 

“Don’t tell me Bubble Butt Billy lost on purpose!”

Rick and Billy’s erotic encounter culminated with a shared orgasmic roar that reverberated throughout the entire establishment. Rick, ever the gentlemen, offered to book a hotel room for the two of them for the night once he caught his breath back. All Billy could do was nod and collapse into Rick’s arms, his body completely exhausted.

“You’ve got a body that men like me dream about, Billy boy.” Rick kissed Billy on the forehand and proceeded to carry him out of the bar on his shoulders to a nearby hotel. There, Billy slept peacefully in Rick’s arms and Rick dozed off with his hands cupping Billy’s big cheeks.

[buckarooranch]

Howdy, partners! 🤠

Roundin' up the herd to bring y'all some fresh cowboy gear! But before we go on, wanna tip our hats and wish each and every one of ya a rootin' tootin' happy new year! 🎆Hope y'all had a good time with your kinfolk (or them trusty four-legged pals) and soaked in the joy of them festive days! 💖

Now, let's talk cowboys. Them jeans we're unveilin' come with three brand spankin' new buckle styles, shinin' in silver and gold. The belts come in three different shades of leather. The jeans themselves they got four different hues to suit your fancy. And don't reckon we forgot the backpockets – threw in some nifty details on there aswell!

We hope you like these new recolors! Don't be shy, give us a holler with your thoughts, and don't forget to tag us in them snapshots of yours! Happy trails, y'all! 🤠✨

Details:

16 New Swatches

For (Male) Teen/Adult/Elder

Horse Ranch DLC needed

Patreon (Free!) | Website

[phoniexrose02]

NoNut

Demetri alexopoulos x Black! Reader

Smutt~ 🌰

Demetri had no Plans of Participate in no nut, Expectantly With you Walking By his Side now but When Robby Pulled out a Few Hundred after training, The Game was On.

He'd gotten about 20 Days into the Month before Your Skimpy Skirts an Shorts started to get to him, he wanted to Rip it off you-

"Demi? We still good to go for our Study Date tonight?" You asked innocently Moon and Yas at your side. Though you'd Chosen Simple Outfit it still Hugged and Showed your Curves. You'd thought the Long Black Dress would make it Easier for your Poor Boyfriend to Function, But all it was Doing was Turning him on...

"Yea, After Training of course" he Responded Making Yas Groan Loudly."I don't understand the Hype over these Karate Kids..." She Quietly Groaned out Referring to Both you and Moon, She left to her Last Period taking Moon with her.

You Wrapped your Arms around your Boyfriend Waist Gently shoving him into the Lockers, His Cheeks Began to Heat and he Could Feel His Dick harden as your Plump Tits smashed Against his Chest."Don't Train too Hard Ok?" Your soft Voice an Quiet, you Kissed his Cheek leaving a Glossy Lip Print Before Following the Girls to Class.

He'd been Bricked for the Rest of the School day an Decided to Get some Advice from his Training Pals.

" I can't Win this with Y/n around, Is it Hard with moon too?" He asked Hawk in the Middle of their Spar, He only Smirked before Putting the Young Man on his Back with a Hard Thud, Demetri Groaned the impact Knocking the Wind From him. Eli Kneeled to his Brother an Held out his hand."How Bad do you Want that 200?"

Pretty Bad...

He'd kept trying to tell himself that as he Approached your front door, it was More than Just a Bet. He wanted you to know that he wasn't Just There For your Rocking Body, but for you...

When you showed to his Door your Hugged Dress was Replaced with a pair of Shorts that Rode up your ass and a Crop top that Showed just a bit to much Cleavage.

"Hope your Ready to Study Hard~"

He'd known you enough to know what you wanted."uhm...don't you wanna start the homework!" He Sprung up from your Grasp over to his Backpack Where he Pulled out a Few Books an Paper, he Sat at his Computer Chair Turning away to Face his Desk, you'd Felt a bit Cold from his Sudden moment.

"Demi??"

You shuffled further to the edge his Bed in Suspension, an he finally Turned to you once again."Your not doin' that Stupid Bet are you?" His Face Gave you all the Confirmation you Need an you Giggled."Girls Talk Baby~" he Grumbled. He didn't want to have to Explain it...

"It's a Control thing, Plus id Get 200 out of it" he Shrugged, But the Face you Made to him Let him know you Weren't entirely sure what to say next.

"So you don't wanna Titty-Fuck me Right now??"

You Played with the edges of the your Top letting your Breast Spill from it, You Jiggled them a bit an He became a Tomato as he watched you Bouncing Boobs an Pouting face, he'd almost forgotten is Cash Money Prize."As Much as I'd Love to, I can't y/n, Please Don't make this Hard..." he Snapped his Head away from you to Whatever else he could in the Room."But I Got all Pretty for you Love~" you Mewled out slowly Descending to the Floor and to his Chair, He Watched you Crawl to him like a Predator staring down His Prey, your Breast Swallowing up any Necklace you wore.

"Well..." He Felt his Dick Harden straining in his tight Jeans." I guess when you Put it Like that...I Can't say No~" he Quickly Pawed at his Jeans to Let his Dick loose, you Sat on your Knees Waiting an licked your Lips as It Sprung Free. His Dick Stood at attention for you as He Grabbed a Small Bottle of Lube from His Desk Drawer.

"Haven't bust one in 20 days, make it Note-worthy?~" you pull off your top an bra revealing the Beauty Silver Bars, You watched his Dick Jump as the Reveal of your nipples piercings."Fuck, your Sneaky Minx" You Jerked at his Already Heated tip before stealing the Lube From his Shaking Hands, You Poured some onto your Boobs Before Slipping his Cock Snug in between.

"So Warm~" You Moved your Breast in Figure Eights, Squeezing his Dick and Pinching at your Own Piercings. He Leaned over Mouth agape, you Kissed at his Tip Making him Thrust a Bit into your Chest."Let me Fuck your Pretty Titties~" You Obeyed letting him Take Charge, He Grabbed your Breast by the hand fulls Squeezing them together tight and he leaned back an started his Wild thrust into your Sleek Breast. " Fuck! Fuck! I missed these these pretty Tits!~" Your Face Warmed at the Confession, an you began to lick at the Now Leaking Tip, the Precum warm an Salty. It's all it Took for him to Spill his Cum all over your Face and Tits, But God Damn was it a Big Load~

"God...this is really a Mess, I'll get something to Clean you with!" He Pulled up pants quickly before disappearing into the Bathroom. You huffed at the sound of running water and Grabbed your Phone, you Quickly Snap a Pic of your Cum Covered Tits. He comes back with a Warm Rag and you Quickly Toss your phone back onto the Bed. You Spent the Rest of the Night Making Sure he'd Spilled every last Drop from him, Putting him to Bed Before heading home yourself.

The Next day at school, he Shameful Made His failure known to his Buds Who Weren't too Surprised, Eli of all of his Friends Knew Full Well he wasn't getting that 200. Not only was his Girlfriend Hot but Everyone Knew How Crazy he went for you, How you two Would Magic Disappear any event and try to reappear like nothing happened. Its Obvious to the Boys he wouldn't last Long.

At the end of the school day he found you gossip with your girls in the hallway, Giggling an Whispering as he slowly Approached. Moon Quickly shoved something into your hand Before the Two Push Past Him."Better Luck Next Year..." Yas Whispers an the Girls Run off to Class Giggling. His Eyes finally laid to in Clearly a Bit Confused."What was that??" He asked quietly pointing behind him.

"Us girls made a Lil Bet too" you Smiled flashing the Money to him."It's not a Full 200 but I'm sure it's enough for a Lil Date Night~" you Branded a Beautiful Smile making him Blush a Bit.

"We can Go to my house After~" he Wiggled his Brows an you Follow up with a Pleased Giggle. He wrapped his arm around your waist Leading you to out for your Night of Fun~

More Cobra Kai 🐍

[angelbitezzz]

For the love of god sans give her another shirt (writing under the cut)

Prev - Next - First

Sans was woken from his sleep by a faint tune straining it's way through the floorboards and the soft clatter of something metal. Having a room directly above the kitchen when he had such an enthusiastic brother was the absolute pits sometimes, he thought as he rolled over on his mattress. Blearily, his eyesockets flickered open to regard his room, pupils sliding along until they landed on the blue jacket he'd left on the floor.

"huh. that's not supposed to be there." He thought to himself, eyesockets shutting again for a long moment before he registered the brown-red stain on the fabric. He sat up as the memories snapped back into his skull, the movement disturbing the little white dog sleeping on the end of the mattress. "oh. sorry, pup. at least one of us should get some more sleep."

He scratched at his backside as he stood, pawing sleepily for the hoodie that he'd left on his chair and tugging it on while he walked, opening the door to his room.

Oh.

"Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather...Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme...And gather it all in a bunch of heather...Then, she'll be a true love of mine..."

That wasn't Papyrus. The unfamiliar song wavered softly through the air as he padded to the landing at the top of the stairs, feet silent. The couch was empty...again. Hell, what was it going to take for that stubborn human to just rest? Did he need to tie her to a bed or something?

huh, actually, scratch that. bad idea.

A little flustered and more than a little frustrated, he descended the stairs. There was a good smell in the air, buttery and rich.

"Are you going to Scarborough Fair?" Angel was trying to be quiet, but seemed to be in something of a good mood. Her voice grew louder as he moved closer. "Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme..."

Sans peeked through the entrance to the kitchen, halting for just a moment to watch. She had one hand in her jean pocket, his borrowed shirt baggy on her torso as she did something at the stove. The blood was still visible, dried now and likely staining the shirt forever. Damn. On the counter next to the stove was a plate piled with what he recognized to be pancakes. They were a darker brown than what he usually saw, but not because they were burnt? He didn't know what she'd done to do that. He stepped forward.

"Remember me to one who lives there..." Angel swayed a little, unaware of the skeleton currently standing just behind her. "She once was a true love of mine."

A heavy hand fell onto her shoulder, making her shriek and nearly jump out of her skin.

"hey there pal. just wanted to remind ya that it's past your bread time."

"SANS!" The human would've been yelling if it weren't for the fact that he'd stolen all of the air from her body. Her hand was clutching her chest. "What the fuck??"

"if you're not vegged out on the couch in the next 2 seconds, i'm gonna go wake up papyrus and let him lecture you."

The human pouted at him and gestured to her current activity, distractedly flipping a pancake.

"Okay, okay...but I'm almost done! Can't I—"

"nope."

"But—"

"no butts in the kitchen. that's unsanitary. what kinda cook are you, anyways?"

Angel deflated a little in disappointment, only for a thought to spark a sudden smile. She turned and grabbed a plate from the counter, then shoved it into his hands. There was a stack of three pancakes, still warm.

"Alright. But here—I already made your portion. And Papyrus's too. I'll just, uh..."

She made a motion like she wasn't sure where to walk, then shut off the stove and flipped the last pancake into the platter on the counter. Sans watched silently as she trudged to the couch and threw herself down on the green fabric like it had personally offended her, but her gaze quickly returned to the kitchen. In her face he could see that she wanted his reaction to her cooking; the eagerness bringing an amused thought of humans being related to dogs and melting his frustration.

Well. Far be it from him to say no to free grub.

He grabbed one—not bothering with a fork—and took a bite. It was warm, thin and crispy with a strong cinnamon taste that wasn't... unpleasant. In fact, it was quite good. He hadn't had anything she'd made before.

"...what's in this?"

"Oh! Well, my mom used to make us cinnamon pancakes when I was a kid. Wanna know the secret?"

"oh yeah? what's that?"

"Cinnamon."

"huh. who'da thunk?"

A pause.

"Is it good enough for me to finish—"

"not a chance."

"Damn it. You can't keep me trapped here, bone boy! I gotta be free!"

"i guess you're right. i mean, it IS a free country, after all. go ahead."

Angel looked at him for a long moment, suspicious of his sudden change in attitude. Slowly, she stood and walked over to the front door, still a little convinced he was going to make her go back to the couch. He watched her go, still chewing his way through his food.

"Okay. I'm leaving. Waaalkin' through the door. Yup."

"see ya."

She opened the door and stepped through, shutting it behind her.

Angel stepped into the house.

"back so soon? i thought you were free."

Confusion bloomed in her face. She looked back at the door and then at Sans.

"Uh. Yeah. Lemme just—"

She tried again.

The door shut behind her as her feet landed on carpet.

"you must really like us if you're not even trying to leave."

She didn't even dignify that with a response. After about 15 tries where she just kept walking back in, she slammed the door shut and properly gave up, huffing her way over to the couch and pulling the blanket over her head.

"well, looks like ya made the right choice after all. hurrah."

His voice sounded right next to the couch, making her peek out from the blankets to find a plate of pancakes being offered by the skeleton. Fresh, judging by the steam rolling slowly off them. Her stomach growled.

"here ya go. shortstack for a shortstack."

"...Thanks."

His left eyelid slid shut in a wink.

"bone appetit, kid."

The pun was enough to make her smile, bringing a foreign warm satisfaction to his ribcage. He chalked it up to getting a proper breakfast after all that nonsense yesterday.

Yeah, definitely that.

[mistressreaper]

Love On The Brain 2

⚠️: swearing, violence, unwanted touching by a stranger

I hope yall like this series so far as much as I do❤️❤️ And thank you so much once again to @spark2flame they are gonna help me so much with this series!!

“Move nerd!” A shoulder slammed into yours causing you to stumble forward in the busy hallway. You glared at the blonde and met his crimson gaze.

“Nerd? I prefer just being called more intelligent.” Bakugo stopped in his tracks and turned to face you. “Don’t be rude just because you couldn’t solve a math problem and I could.” A small crowd had gathered around the two of you, wondering if a fight was going to break out. A smirk grows on Bakugo’s face.

“So you think you’re so intelligent huh? Then what about this?” He pulls a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and throws it, hitting your nose. You picked the ball up and unfurled the paper, a long math problem presented itself at the top. To be fair this was a harder problem than the teachers should be giving middle schoolers. Running through the multiple processes in your mind you smiled and looked up at Bakugo.

“145, if you think I’m wrong go have the teacher check it.” With that you walked away, but not before crumpling up and throwing the paper back at him.

—————

You were sitting on the bench waiting for the bus when someone huffed and plopped down next to you. “You were right, nerd.” Shifting your gaze Bakugo had his arms crossed and his jaw clenched. “Do ya think you could start helping me in that class?” A smirk covered your features as you looked at him.

“Of course I can, on one condition.” He raised an eyebrow at you waiting for your answer. “Stop calling me nerd.”

•••••

“Hey, nerd.” The nickname stuck, but now there was no malice behind it. A large hand ruffled your hair as Bakugo leaned against the lockers.

“Bakugo!” You groaned hurriedly fixing your hair. After tutoring him in middle school you two quickly became best friends. You were the first person who had stood up to him and he had respected that.

“Kirishima is having a party tonight, you going?”

“Obviously. When have you known me to miss a Halloween party? What’s your costume?”

“Ghostface.”

You hummed, “Simple but hot, you’ll have all the girls swooning I’m sure.”

“Maybe but I’m only looking for a certain one”

You closed your locker and picked up your bag, “Well I’m sure you’ll get her Kacchan.”

————

Memories flooded back as you got ready. You and Bakugo were invited to Kirishima’s annual Halloween party as always, except now Bakugo has to have more elaborate costumes to maintain a low profile. You had on some torn black fishnets, a short black dress and a pair of chunky black boots. You didn’t have time to plan a costume so this would have to work. Walking back to the living room you caught a glimpse of Bakugo. Ripped black jeans and combat boots are all he had on at the moment, you could feel your cheeks turn pink. “Have you seen my long sleeve?” He asked.

“Did you look in the dryer?” He gave you a deadpan look, “I’ll take that as a yes. If it’s not there or in your closet then I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Fuck it then I’ll wear this.” He pulled a form fitting white t shirt on. “You ready?”

“No costume?”

“Nah, I told Eiji I’d do a couple songs so there’s no use in hiding this year.” He spun his key ring around his finger while he waited for you.

Bakugo parked the car and helped you out due to the loose gravel and the boots you chose to wear. “How the fuck are you walking in those?”

You chuckled, “it’s not hard, just takes practice.” You two arrived at the front door and Kirishima greeted you.

“There’s my two favorite pals!” Eiji’s eyes looked over you and he gave a low whistle, “You’re looking good sweetheart.” A huff came from beside you and Bakugo’s face was contorted into a scowl.

“Where’s the set up?” With that Eiji led you through the massive house and the whole time Bakugo’s hand was on your back, helping you weave through the crowds of people. When you got to the makeshift stage Bakugo turned to you, “Hey be careful while we’re here okay?” You nodded. As he was getting ready you somehow found your way to the kitchen to pour you and Bakugo a drink. You got back to the stage and handed him the cup of beer. He downed it in one go and brought the microphone up to his lips, “How’s everybody doing tonight?” The cheers from everyone echoed. The music started and you smiled to yourself, of course this should be the song he starts off with.

“I've been searching for an answer, but I ain't found one. I've been known to tear shit up and go off like a gun. I've been drinking way too much, but now I think I'm done.” The music drops and a smirk is plastered on Bakugo’s face, “Fuck that shit let’s start a riot!”

You were in the front of the crowd, swaying your hips to the music and sipping on your drink. You were the designated driver for tonight but that didn’t mean you couldn’t have a little bit to loosen up.

The night continued on, Bakugo finished performing a while ago and he and Kirishima were getting shit faced. You were still nursing your second cup since it would be your last for the night. There was some rock music playing over the speakers and you’d be damned if you sat down now. You continued to dance, the alcohol helping out a bit. The sound drowning out your thoughts. You felt an arm snake around you waist and someone brush up against your backside, “Well don’t you look lovely tonight.” You glanced behind you and saw a handsome man with long white hair, he was dressed in all black with bright red shoes.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” You hummed. You continued dancing with the man, grinding up on him. You saw Bakugo round the corner and send a frown your way, but you didn’t pay any mind. Probably mad about something he and Eiji were talking about. Your mystery man’s hands started tracing up your body, stopping right below your breasts before lightly squeezing them. “Hey there watch-“

“Alright that’s enough!” The man’s hands were ripped away from you and you whipped around to see Bakugo shoving the guy back. “Keep your hands off her!”

“Bakugo!” You yelled but the music was so loud you don’t know if he heard you. You saw the man you were dancing with say something you couldn’t hear, then suddenly Bakugo’s fist made contact. The two men were on the ground pummeling each other before Bakugo got the advantage and pinned the other man. Over and over his fist landed blows, finally you were able to snap out of your trance and run over.

“Katsuki! Quit, get off of him!” Bakugo looked up at you, a crazed, jealous look in his eyes. He stood up and wiped the blood from his nose.

“Let’s go.” He grabbed your arm and dragged you out to the car. You could smell the alcohol on his breath.

When you got to the car you dug your heels into the gravel, “What the fuck Bakugo? Why did you do that?” You ripped the keys from his hand and marched around to the drivers side. You were fired up right now and not wanting to listen to any excuses from him. “Get in the fucking car.” You barked. The ride home was silent. No talking, no radio, nothing. You pulled into the garage and killed the engine. “I could’ve handled that.”

“Really? Because it seems like you were just taking it.” Bakugo huffed and gave you a pissed off look.

“Who says I didn’t want him to do that?” You yelled.

“Oh yeah, because you wanted some random pervert to come feel up on you. Whatever.” He got out of the car and slammed the door. You did the same and stormed up to him.

“Katsuki Bakugo! Look at me!” The blonde spun around fiery red eyes boring into you. “First off I could’ve fucking handled that, I was saying something before you interrupted. Second off what if that guy fucking sues you? This isn’t like that one punch fiasco last month, you beat the ever loving shit out of that guy! That could kill your career and-“

“Would you shut the fuck up already!” He yelled. You flinched from how loud his voice was, Bakugo has never yelled at you in the many years you’ve known him. “I don’t care about that right now! He had been messing with other women all night long, harassing them to no end. So when I saw him with you,” He paused and looked at you. His eyes had already softened from the sharp, hateful gaze they were just a moment ago. “All night I watched him to make sure he didn’t go near you. The one time I looked away he was all over you and I couldn’t stand it!”

“Kats-“

“You have no clue do you?” You gave him a confused look. He shook his head, “Nevermind.” He began walking away but you reached out and grabbed his hand.

“Katsuki,” you said softly, “Let me patch you up please. Your knuckles are busted.” He let out a sigh and nodded. You took the lead and kept a hold of his hand until you got to the kitchen. He sat in the chair while you got the first aid kit from under the sink. You sank to your knees in front of him and started wiping his knuckles with the alcohol wipes. He hisses at the stinging but doesn’t flinch away. You begin wrapping the bandage when he says something that shocks you.

“This isn’t how I pictured you on your knees for me.”

[winniemaywebber]

It's Been A Long, Long Time • Part 4

🌹🌸 Jo and Jean 🌸🌹

masterlist

read previous parts here: 1 2 3

“Rosie?” Jean murmurs, shaking him awake. He wakes with a start and a snort, the baby beginning to cry at the sudden ruckus. 

“Aw, jeez,” Rosie says, looking at you apologetically. “What time is it?”

“Six o'clock. Seems little guy here blessed you with a whole night of sleep and a little time to sleep in. Wish he'd do that for me and his Papa.” She winks at Rosie, patting him on the shoulder. “Go upstairs to bed, doll. That chair isn't the most comfortable.”

“You can say that again,” he groans, stretching as he gets up. “You look well rested.”

“I am. Thank you, Robert. I really appreciate it, we both do.”

He nods, yawning and scratching his head as he exits the room. 

“See ya later, Jean.”

—

Scooping the baby up, Jean begins to go through her regular morning routine: diaper change, bottle and a change of clothes. Her and the baby are both exhausted by the time this is all done, thankful for the moment the baby falls asleep with a warm, full belly so that she's able to fix herself breakfast. It's when the toast pops up that she hears her husband pad his way down the plush carpet stairs, greeting her sleepily.

“Morning, Mrs Crosby,” he murmurs, kissing her deeply. 

“Morning, Binger. Toast?”

“Yes please,” he answers, pouring himself coffee from the pot on the stove. “Rosie taking a nap?”

“Sure is. I don't think the baby gave him too much trouble. When I came down at six, the pair of them were still sleeping!”

“Six?” Bing replies, shocked. “That little imp.” He shakes his head, laughing as he takes a sip from his mug. “That's just the Uncle Rosie touch.”

“Hey, a little soft jazz, a soothing conversation and some swaying, he was out like a light,” Rosie announces himself, looking a lot more refreshed than he did two hours ago. 

“Here he is. Morning, buddy.”

“Hiya, Croz.” 

Jean places a cup of coffee in front of him, asking if he'd like some toast by pointing to the toaster. 

“Yes, please, Mrs Croz. Little man okay?”

“Oh, yeah! He's just taking his first cat nap of the day.”

“That's good. I hope you don't mind, but I made a few calls last night.”

“You know that's fine, Rosie. While you're here, treat it like your own home,” she says, handing him the plate of toast.

“Yeah, pal. You're family, Uncle Rosie.”

“Thank you, guys. I gotta tell ya, first call was to my Ma. Second to–”

“To Jo. We know, doll.”

“How sad is that? Can't even go one night without hearing her voice.”

“Neither can my wife,” Bing grumbles jokingly, wiping his mouth. 

“Seems we're in the same boat, Jean,” he laughs, shaking his head. “I promised her I'd bring her here to visit the very second we are married.”

“You'd better. But let us get home first. We can't be racing down the highway with a baby in tow!”

—

The boys clear up the dishes before getting ready for a day of golfing. Jean and the baby decide to take it easy, lazing around in bed, playing and snuggling until she hears a sudden knock on the door. The baby on her hip, she quickly descends the stairs in her stockinged feet, careful not to slip. Opening the door, she lets out a delighted scream, practically jumping up and down in the doorway.

“Josephine!” she squeals, the girls hugging tightly. Without a word, she takes the baby from Jean's arms and looks at him, a huge grin on her face and tears in her eyes.

“Oh, he's gotten so big!” she cries, holding Jean close again. “He looks just like you, doll.”

“Do you think?” 

“Apart from–”

“The eyes,” they both say, their words overlapping. 

“Oh yeah,” Jo laughs. “No mistaking those brown puppy dog eyes. How did Uncle Wosie do, huh, buddy? He do a good job?”

“Girl, I don't know what kind of magic touch your man has, but that baby slept all night long.”

“Was that after he called his Ma in a panic?”

“He called her panicking? Jeez, he told us he had it covered.”

“Robbie can be an excellent liar, Jean. Remember our favorite one? ‘I'll meet you at Minton’s when I'm home after my 25th mission.’ Psh.” The girls break into giggles, Jean taking her hand and leading her into the dining room.

“You need me to take him?” She asks as they sit down. 

“Absolutely not, lady. I'm getting my fill,” she says, squeezing the baby's cheeks and making him smile. “Oh, he's a darling.”

“How did you persuade your father to let you come out here? I thought his rule was you had to wait until you and Robbie were married.”

“Well,” Jo sighs, stroking the baby's soft blond hair with her cheek. “Mom saw how miserable I was when I returned home this morning from the Rosenthal house. I'd just slept in Robbie’s bed and it smelled so much of him that…I just missed him terribly, especially knowing he was here with you guys.  Mom saw that and rolled her eyes. ‘Go on then. I'll tell your father.’” 

“I know how fast you flew out that door!”

“Didn't even let her finish the sentence. Out of there like a shot. I missed you so much, Jean.”

“I've missed you, too, doll.” The pair hold hands across the table for a second, both of their eyes filling with tears at finally being reunited after so many months apart. They had been each other's glue, backbone and support system during war time, the both of them sharing a unique bond as they fought with their emotions involving their men being overseas, putting their lives in constant danger for the good of their country. Them having to be apart once the boys had returned home was heart wrenching, Jean finally moving into her marital home upstate while Josephine returned to her family home in Brooklyn after baby Crosby was born. That's why their bond was so incredibly strong and unbreakable: it was Jo that held her hand through labor pains, placing cool washcloths on her head as she screamed and fought through the indescribable pain childbirth brought. It was Josephine that was there as the baby entered the world, his father thousands of miles away. 

“There's a cute house for sale a couple blocks away. Perfect for a newly married couple,” Jean winks, looking knowingly across the table at her friend. 

“Ugh, I wish he'd hurry up with it already. I am dying to marry that man.”

“Don't we know it,” she laughs, standing up and turning to the stove to fix a pot of coffee. “I've been putting in a good word for you.”

“It's your job as my best friend to do such a thing,” she replies, staring down at the baby on her lap. “And yours, little man! Come on, tell me! Did Uncle Wosie say anything to you last night? I'm listening.” The baby gurgles, smiling up at his aunt. “Keeping it a secret, huh? He tell you to do that? Of course he did. The cheek of the man.”

“And yet,” Jean says, stirring the coffee. “You love him.”

“That I do, Jean. That I do.”

—

The door swings open a couple of hours later, the sun just beginning to set, the house sinking into the orange glow. The two men swing their golf bags in, neglecting to take off their shoes as they plod into the living room. 

“Jean?” Harry calls, gingerly opening the living room door. “We're home, sweetheart.” He takes in the vision of Jean and Josephine giggling on the couch, the baby napping in the bassinet next to them. “Well, I'll be damned. Look who's here!”

“Honey!” Rosie yells, rushing up to her and taking her in his arms. “Uggghh,” he growls as he squeezes her, his hands raking through her hair. “But how–when did you–”

“She turned on the sad eyes with Mrs Harris and she couldn't say no when she said she missed her best friend and nephew,” Jean answers, her heart melting as they embrace over and over again. Bing is grinning from ear to ear at the sight too, walking over to the couch and placing soft kisses all over his wife's face before finally kissing her on the mouth. 

“Hi,” he murmurs, reaching down to stroke the baby's head. “How was your day?”

“The best, Binger. I'm so happy she's here.”

“I know. I can see it. You tell her about that house yet?”

“Sure did. I'm sure she'll poke him about it as the evening goes on.” 

Harry nods, nuzzling into his wife as he sits on the couch. “Love you, Mrs Crosby.” 

“Love you more, Bing.” 

—

The four had sat down to dinner, all exchanging anecdotes as they ate. Rosie and Bing had regaled the girls with their heroic tales of war: Bing staying awake for seventy two hours to ensure Rosie and their other men were safe on the day of days. Rosie celebrating his twenty fifth mission by buzzing the tower, Josephine having received a play by play of the event from Red Cross Girl, Valencia. Beginning as a comforting penpal, Val had become a friend of Jo and Jean's, along with her friend Olive.

“Have you heard from Val, Jo?”

“Yes! This past week actually. What did she say? Let me think…” she trails off, brow furrowed as she tries to recall the letter's contents. “Oh, yes! She's back home with Blakely, and Olive went with her. It must be such a shock for her to go from little old England to New York City in the blink of an eye like that, but Val says she's taking to it very well. They're all very happy. Olive is staying with them until she’s ready to go to Michigan to be with Dougie.”

“We must see them before she leaves. I'm dying to meet Olive.”

“Me, too! She sounds so sweet according to Val’s letters.”

“Who, English?” Croz perks up, toying with his whiskey glass. “Oh, yeah, she's a doll. A little contained at first because of the British shyness, but once she gets out of her shell…”

“A funny, funny girl. As is Valencia. She really brings Olive out of that mentioned shell, actually. Birds of a feather. Remind me of you two, actually.”

“Well, seems we'll all get along just fine,” Jean says, beginning to tidy up the dessert plates. 

“Sit down, Jean. We've got it.” Jo shoots a look at Robbie, taking the plates from Jean. “You and Harry go sit.”

“If you're both sure?”

“Of course. Thank you for dinner, darling. It was magnificent.”

—

Retiring to the living room, Harry picks up his son, who is gurgling happily in his bassinet. 

“Hey, buddy!” he coos, kissing his face. He sits down next to his wife, his head leaning on her shoulder.

“Where are they gonna sleep?”

“Binger, we have something called a guest room. That's where our guests sleep, wouldn't you know.” He shakes his head at her, laughing. 

“Together?”

“Yes, together. I doubt they're going to consummate their long term relationship in the guest bedroom of their best friends’ house while their nephew is only down the hall.”

“You're right. My bad.”

“Mind in the gutter, as always, Crosby.”

“Only for you, Mrs.” 

Hearing a ruckus in the kitchen, Harry and Jean turn their heads towards the door. They hear sounds of splashing, Jo giggling and Rosie laughing heartily as someone slips, a squeak echoing on the tiled floor. Jean begins to snort, Harry joining in as he hears a thump. “Are you sure they're doing dishes in there?”

“I dread to think of the state of the sink, Bing,” she says, wiping her eyes. 

A few moments later, the couple join them in the living room, the front of their shirts soaked. 

“What in God's name?”

“Robert thought it would be funny to play with the soap. What he didn't know,” Josephine says, poking at his cheek playfully, “is that I can give it back just as good.”

“Is my floor flooded?”

“No, ma'am,” Rosie says sheepishly. “I dried it up.” 

Jean can't help but laugh at Rosie's expression, seeing that Jo - whose shirt was a little less wet than her man's - had obviously won the fight that Rosie had started. Looking between them, she smiles, seeing the twinkle in both of their eyes as they wipe soap from each other's hair, it flicking off of Rosie's curls.

“On that note, darlings, I'm off to bed. Jo, you're in the guest room with Rosie.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, Jean, that okay? I can sleep on the couch.” 

Jean waves a hand in dismissal, shaking her head. “Josephine came here so you could be together with no disturbances or silly rules. Of course it's okay.”

“Well, I also came to see you and my nephew,” Jo says, hugging her gently. “But thank you. You're a darling.”

“Goodnight, friends,” she says, beginning to exit the room with Harry hot on her heels, carrying the bassinet and the baby upstairs.

“Let me tuck you in, honey,” he whispers as they get to the bedroom. “Make sure you're all cozy.”

“Yes please, sweetheart. That's a lovely idea.” 

“How would you feel about us putting this little fella in his nursery tonight? Try it out?”

“Maybe,” Jean hesitates. “I'd like to sleep, though.”

“Hey, it's the weekend. I'll listen for him.” 

“Okay,” she breathes out, shoulders falling. “If you're sure.”

“Always. He's my boy. I'd stay awake forever for him if I had to.”

“At least we know you could make it three days before you dropped, so that's something.”

“Hey, now. That was just a fluke.”

“Mhm,” she mutters, sliding into the bedsheets. “Are you coming to bed, too?”

“Soon, my love. I wanna make sure the baby goes to sleep first.”

“Okay,” she replies sadly. 

“Hey, now, Mrs Crosby. Don't give me that pout, as cute as it is. I'll be in bed with you soon.”

“Fine,” she huffs, arms crossed in mock upset. 

“Would a kiss make it better, hm?” 

“Yes,” she grins, arms uncrossed immediately to grab him. They kiss deeply for a few moments before she sinks down in her pillow, Bing tucking the sheet around her body. 

“I love you so much,” he says, kissing her temple. “So, so much.”

“I love you too, darling.”

taglist: @sagesolsticewrites @ginabaker1666 @manonsmanicmind @hephaestn

[avalons-agent]

i know if someone composed a theme for me it'd be light and airy percussions with marimbas and drums and piano AND the bridge leads to a funky chorus with synths and bass guitar that counters it then goes back into the melody of marimba

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Convenience Store Vampire, part 3

Part 1, Part 2

While I undertook the task of hauling a ghost out of its mortal shell (which was ridiculously hard, mind you), Hash held my parasol up with one hand and called someone with the other. We awkwardly shuffled into the shop, where I deposited the ghost, who was almost stable, into the storage cabinet. I thanked my lucky stars that spirits and ghosts were tiny, because he could barely lie down flat in it, despite being all of one and a half metres tall. (Or so I guessed. Another nice thing about vampirism was that it gave me the ability to estimate things with ridiculous accuracy.)

Hash hung up on her caller, and immediately began dialling another number. As she did, her features shifted and melted to become more wrinkled and concerned, taking on the form of a middle-aged woman in mom jeans and a t-shirt. (I had no idea how she shifted her clothes. One of the many mysteries of ‘shifter magic.)

“Hi?” She pitched her voice high, with a confused and anxious lilt. “I think I found a dead man? Yeah, he got rolled over or something? He's wearing an Exorcist uniform, I think? Erm, the address?” She paused, pretending to check the location. “I'm along Chesseri Lane, outside the Smiley Mart Convenience Store. What- What should I do? Oh, okay! Thank you, Officer, and may Ina bless your precious hearts.” 

She hung up and grinned at her phone, her skin rippling to return to their original features. “Guess what, Davie? 'Em coppers fell right fer it! Gods, I love watching ‘em fall fer my tricks. Ya'd think three thousand years of dealin' with my kin' would prep ‘em for dealing with us tricks'ers, but nay!” She snickered gleefully to herself.

I frowned at her, though there was no real heat in my gaze. “Hash, I just watched you speak a perfectly unaccented sentence. Why do you persist in speaking that gods-awful pidgin? You've been making me endure that thing for so long, you know,” I chided her.

She giggled some more. “Ya sound like my boyfrien'! He's always bitchin' ‘bout the accent. By the by, he's the one I called. Figured ‘cos he's a spirit, he'd mask the scent of our ghostie here, don't ya think?”

Sometimes I forgot that for all her antics, Hash was both very old and very smart. “Yeah, that should work,” I said. “But will he make it in time? The Luxatian Exorcist Corps are notoriously fast, you know.”

She pondered that thought, then laughed it away. “I told ‘im to hurry. He'll make it just fine,” she replied casually.

Right on cue, the door jingled as it opened.

An old friend of mine always said that spirits were so solemn because they were likely to be mistaken for children otherwise, and I saw it to be true. Hash's boyfriend could easily have passed for a twelve-year-old had he not been wearing a neatly pressed suit and the most dour of expressions. As I met his golden eyes, I could feel the disdain pouring off him.

“You could give most vampires a run for their money in the superiority complex department,” I said, unable to clamp down on my overly enthusiastic tongue. The spirit gave me a stern glare, but it only made me laugh. 

Taglist :)

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet (Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[wh0lemilk0vich]

how do you think force feeding plays into ian and mickeys dynamic? obviously mickey eats his fill all on his own—he doesn’t need ian’s direction in simply eating, not necessarily needed to make eating sexy either. But, force feedings gotta heighten the experience for ian if he’s in a particularly dominant headspace or!! if mickeys being a whiny brat and needs something to fill his mouth?

or maybe they’re at a club and someone’s eyeing mickey up from across the bar and ian happens to be grabbing himself and mickey drinks—right next to mickeys little admirer— and he notices that ian’s drooling in mickeys direction too and nudges ian, saying something like “look at the ass on that big boy, bet i could fuck his tits too,” and at ian’s incredulous look he adds, “might be a little overfed though, probably can’t see his own dick.” And ian is overwhelmed with both possessive-derived anger and downright horniness, he turns around and smacks the bar to order whatever greasy pub food he can get his hands on and into his husbands fat belly—snatching up the food and grumbling all the way to his fat ass husband, “overfed?? fucker hasn’t seen overfed, yet.” …i think maybe then there would be some force feeding because mickey can, actually, see his dick. but ian’s about to make sure he won’t be able to for long.

Please I'm begging you never to stop sending me messages, this is so fucking delightfully sinful and I am gagging for more. I feel so seen!!!

You're absolutely right. Ian and Mickey do not necessarily see themselves as like a feeder/feedee gainer couple, obsessed with the growth and like internally motivated between them, BUT they fucking love the dynamic and Mickey is so fucking hot to Ian fat. The boy likes to eat and nothing's gonna stop him from that, least of all Ian who would have been more than happy just to be a witness, let alone a participant. And fuck if getting to take charge and fill that boy up until he's groaning, panting, hard and leaking doesn't make him go absolutely feral.

The forcefeeding is 100000% through and through part and parcel of brat taming and their reciprocal possession of each other. Who cares if there's a little toxicity when it's so fucking hot?

It would be one thing if this fucker at the bar just gushed about how hot his husband was. He'd be self satisfied and leave the guy alone knowing he had good taste. But of course the fuckwad just had to go and want what was his, and what's worse is he didn't even seem grateful for what a beautifully big, soft, plump boy Mickey was. How fat fat and gorgeous IAN and his love made him. He would show that fuck big. Absolutely ordering everything he could pulling Mickey away, hand feeding him everything bite by bite, catching eyes with the guy who at least had the decency to look both aroused and ashamed which would only fuel Ian on. Ian there feeling Mickey up through his jeans, popping the button for him, getting a big, possessive hand on his belly to rub it possessively, nibbling at his ear, whispering the most depraved shit "that's right Mick, eat up. If you want it long and hard, I need you big and soft. Keep eating fat boy. Fuck you look so hot. I can't wait to fuck your fat ass ragged when we get home. You'd like that wouldn't you? Fuck you're beautiful."

The next time they're at the club/bar, Ian purposefully runs into that guy again, gets back to the small talk, Mickey's visibly bigger. "Ya know, I remember what you were saying about my husband," venom dripping out of his mouth, "You were right about a few things. That ass on him? Divine, fucking beatific. The way those cheeks fucking swallow me... And his tits? Don't even fucking get me started. I mean, listen, I'm packing nine inches and I swear it disappears between those perky fucking puppies. But I've gotta tell you. You were wrong about one fucking thing. There's no over feeding that boy. There's only giving him every. fucking. Morsel he's worth. So let's get something straight, pal. I hear one more fucking word from you about my husband other than complete, utter, worshipful, unrequitedly devotional, unobtainable desire, and you, my friend, are a fucking dead man. Now how would you like to buy my big boy a drink, huh?" Clapping him on the shoulder and getting buddy-buddy.

This was truly so beautiful please please please send me more, this makes me want to write 😭😭

[maladaptive-day-dreams]

Wet Dream

Eddie x fem!reader, smut 18+, 2.8k words Inspired by these lyrics from Wet Dream by Wet Leg: What makes you think you're good enough / To think about me when you're touching yourself?

CW: mutual masturbation, sub!Eddie and then not so subby Eddie(so technically switch!eddie?), praise, enemies to lovers vibes, hate sex (unprotected p in v, wrap it up kiddos)

here ya go ya filthy animals (me included bc I wrote this and am feelin a lil depraved rn)

Eddie Tags: @eddiemunsonfuxks

You and Eddie Munson have had a rivalry since he started at Hawkins Elementary in 5th grade. Neither of you are sure how it started or why but both of you were always so annoyed with each other whenever you were in the same room with each other—so much so that the Principle was on a first name basis with your parents and Eddie’s Uncle Wayne, and they were on a first name basis with each other.

You won’t deny that Eddie is hot. You even agree to it when your girlfriends all fawn over him and his hair and his voice and his waist and his hands, god his hands. But you only ever admitted to you slight attraction to Eddie in the secrecy of girl’s night—and all your gal pals know not to say a word about it to anyone.

And then, Eddie started dealing drugs once you both started High School and Reefer Rick stopped selling to you and other high schoolers since he had an inside guy now. Taking away your go to dealer gave you a new reason to dislike Eddie. Now your attraction was annoyance and while picturing his lithe body and rough hands had definitely become a part of your ‘self care’ routine, just the thought of him soured your mood.

Your friend Paul was happy to be your little deal mule once you offered to throw in an extra $20 for his ‘services’ though. But then Paul got a lil greedy and only gave you half of your order the last two times you asked him to get you weed from Eddie. You obviously gave him a lil knockabout that might’ve resulted in a black eye and a busted lip, and you having to get your weed yourself now.

So that’s why you’re here. Pounding on Eddie’s trailer door at 11pm on a Friday night after you worked up the guts to get your own weed since you smoked your last mini joint—your attempt at making your last ounce last—yesterday night. But Eddie won’t open the fucking door.

“Eddie!” you berate through the door as you knock again.

No answer.

“Stupid, fucking asshole, he probably won’t open the door because it’s me. What a dick,” you mutter under your breath. “Paul mentioned a key somewhere on the porch for in case Eddie was asleep or in the bathroom or something when he came by. But where the fuck did he say it was?”

You lift up the doormat, nothing. Check in the mailbox by the door, nothing. Raise up one plant, nothing, next plant, nothing. The only thing left is a giant stone that looks way too heavy, but as you go to lift it it comes right up.

“Styrofoam with a wood insert for weight. Clever,” you laugh as you remove the key from its spot under the fake rock.

You knock three times again before giving a warning, “Eddie I’m coming in! You’ve got 20 seconds to put away any porn magazines!”

Putting the key in the handle, you turn it until theres a click and open the door. Stepping inside, you notice that it’s surprisingly clean compared to what you thought Eddie’s place would be like. You walk further inside and drop the key on the table by the door. Shoving your hands in your jean jacket pockets you call out again.

“Eddie? I know you’re here, your van is parked outside.”

You don’t get a response but you do hear noises coming from a room down the hall. Curious, you move towards it. The giant DIO poster on the door obviously means it’s Eddie’s room, but you could also tell because the door was cracked just enough for you to see Eddie face twisted up in concentration, forehead a little slick with sweat.

Realizing what he’s probably doing, you turn around quickly and start to step away and towards the front door but you stop dead in your tracks because Eddie just moaned your name.

“Y/N, fuck me, yes.” His voice was rougher than usual, laced with lust. You squeeze your thighs together, because even though you despise him that was fucking hot as hell to hear. But then you remember that you despise him and instead of walk away you swing open his door and ask a very hard and very surprised Eddie a question.

“What makes you think you’re good enough to think about me when you’re touching yourself?”

Eddie’s eyes are wide as he removes his hands from his hard dick and quickly tries to cover himself with a blanket.

“Fuck! Y/N what the fuck are you doing here?” He asks frantically.

“I came to get weed because I ran out and can’t trust Paul to give me what I pay for anymore.”

“You could’ve fucking knocked!” he yells in annoyance.

“I did! A lot! For like 10 minutes straight! It’s not my fault you were horny and too busy thinking about me to stop touching your cock and come sell me an ounce of weed!” Your chest rises up and down quickly after your outburst. “And again, Eddie. What makes you think you’re good enough to think about me when you’re touching yourself, huh?”

Eddie shrinks beneath your domineering gaze, trying to curl away from you. “I–“

“Ah ah ah,” you tsk, shifting closer to the edge of his bed. “Look at me, and answer my question.”

Eddie’s eyes meet yours and you can tell he’s a little subby baby, which brings a smile to your face.

“I–I’m sorry. I just, I won’t, I–“

“Why are you such a nervous lil boy, Eds? Do you think I’m mad at you?”

Eddie looks at you slightly confused, “you’re not mad?”

“Oh no baby, I’m not mad. I’m just surprised, and a little upset you didn’t ask for permission first.” His eyes go wide as you toe off your shoes and sit in front of him on his bed.

“‘m sorry,” he whimpers, bowing his head. “Can I?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you say, running a hand up his bare leg towards the blanket bundled on his lap. “Do you think you deserve to imagine me sucking you off when you rub yourself?”

His leg twitches under your soft touch and you can see his lower stomach muscles tighten at your dirty question.

“Tell me, Eddie baby, do you think of my mouth on your cock or my pussy?”

He groans and bucks his hips into the blanket slightly, muttering a silent apology.

“Answer me.”

“Both,” he gasps as your hand finds its way under the blanket, fingertips brushing his balls.

“Good boy,” you praise and Eddie whines. “I think I’ll let you finish fucking your hand.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide again, big brown eyes searching your face for a lie.

“But,” you pause. “You have to follow my directions, and look at me the whole time. Ok?”

He nods silently and eagerly.

“Words, Eddie. Gimmie your words.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good. Now take off the blanket and let me see you.”

Eddie’s hand reaches for the blanket covering himself and removes it slowly, dick jumping as he does.

“Fuck, your cock is so pretty Eds,” you say shifting a pillow behind you so you can sit comfortably, legs criss crossed. “You wanna touch yourself?”

“Please.”

“Ok, go ahead and stroke yourself, but keep it slow. Don’t want you cumming too soon.”

He does as you say, his dominant hand coming to grip himself at the base of his dick and slowly bringing it to the tip. He repeats the motion three times, eyes locked on yours the entire time.

“Good, now squeeze at the top this time.”

He does, and lets out the deepest groan you’ve heard from him yet. It grows from the center of his chest and releases as he squeezes his sensitive tip. You shift your hips at the sound, slightly grinding yourself on his bed. His eyes flick to your center as you do so and you decide in that moment to give him some fodder for his imagination. His eyes follow your hands as you reach down to rub yourself over your jean shorts, your strokes matching Eddie’s speed.

“Slow down baby,” you say as you unbutton your shorts and pull the zipper down. He doesn’t follow your directions and instead moves a little faster, so you halt your own movements. “Hey, Eddie, eyes up here.”

His eyes flick up immediately to meet yours. “Good boy. Slow down.” He nods and does as he’s told.

“Eye’s up still okay?” you half say, half ask. Once you’re certain he won’t look away, you resume your movements, placing your feet on the bed and lifting your hips to remove your shorts and panties. Settling back into the pillows with your legs butterflied to make sure Eddie can see you, you nod at him, allowing him to watch your hands as they trail down your clothed stomach to your mound.

You lightly trail your pointer and ring fingers down your lips, and run your middle finger through your slit on the upward stroke, Eddie sighing at the sight and sound of your arousal. You tease and circle your clit a few times before giving him his next instruction.

“Play with your balls while you watch me.”

Eddie’s free hand that was previously strangling the sheets to his side reaches below his dick to play with his heavy sack. The two of you stay like this for a few minutes, watching each other intently. Eddie touching and teasing and squeezing his balls while you circle and pinch your clit, working yourself into a heady haze, the coil in your belly starting to tighten.

“Ok baby. Stroke yourself to my rhythm,” you gasp shifting your fingers from your clit to your entrance. You circle yourself once, twice, before inserting a finger.

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters at the sight of you fingering yourself. His hand resumes it’s place on his throbbing cock. You match each other’s pacing, Eddie fucking his hand as fast as you ride your own.

Both of you are panting as you watch each other, Eddie’s eyes glued to where your fingers disappear into your cunt, and yours glued to the rough fuck of Eddie’s hand on his dick. “I–fuck–I’m close baby. Are you almost there? Are you ready to let go?”

Eddie can’t talk, his hazy desire covers him in want, but his eyes meet yours, his mouth dropped open in a moan. “Let go, Eds.”

He does, covering his stomach in his release as the coil in your stomach snaps and you coat your hand with your own release. Your moans echo through the room, paired with the wet sounds of you finger fucking yourself through your orgasm, Eddie’s eyes still glued to your glistening cunt.

“Fuck,” you say, pulling your fingers from your pussy and wiping them on Eddie’s now very dirty comforter. A sigh falls from your lips as you smile at Eddie.

“I want to be in you so badly,” he admits in his post-nut haze.

“Is that so?” you tease, shifting your legs behind you and getting up on your knees. “Wanna feel my pretty pussy on your cock? Squeezing you so good?”

“I fucking hate you,” he laughs as his dick begins to harden again.

“Mmm but you were such a good boy just a few minutes ago. Doing as your told? Such an obedient baby.”

Eddie’s eyes flick to yours as you crawl closer to him on the bed.

“I wouldn’t mind riding your pretty cock,” you say.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You hover just over his dick, hands braced on his bare chest, and you can feel the heat of it on your pussy as you slowly lower yourself onto him, running your wet cunt over him. He hisses as his tip catches your hole.

“Just fucking ride me already, Y/N. Stop fucking teasing,” he says through gritted teeth.

“What happened to my nice boy that was just begging for permission to think about me while he touched himself?”

“He came. And now he wants to fuck you.”

“Ah what a real gentleman. This is why I don’t like you,” you spit out, rubbing yourself over his cock again to rile him up.

“You don’t have to like me to ride me,” he smirks up at you.

“Yeah but I don’t know if I want to give it to you now. I kind of want to make you beg—oh fuck.”

Eddie didn’t let you finish. He grabbed your hips and slammed up into you, knocking the air from your lungs in a throaty moan.

“Not so hot when you’re not in control huh?” he teases. Smiling up at you as he fucks up into you. You move your hands from his chest to his thighs behind you, and start to bounce on his hard cock.

“Fuck Eddie, you’re so fucking big,” you gasp as his mushroom tip hits your g-spot with every bounce. Eddie’s hands grip your hips tightly, sure to leave a bruise.

“Yeah? Do I feel good?”

“Shut up.”

“Awe but I wanted another compliment,” he laughs as one hand leaves your hip to find your clit. He rubs circles around the engorged bud and lets you ride him at your own pace now.

“I still despise you Munson.”

“Feeling is still mutual, Y/L/N. We’ll just fuck and go back to hating each other. No big deal.”

Your thighs begin to burn and your movements slow. Eddie notices and lifts you up and off of his cock.

“What are you–?”

He flips you on to all fours and kneels behind you, lining himself up and entering you again, slowly this time. You squeeze around him once he’s buried to the hilt, and then he’s pounding into you at a relentless pace. His body engulfs yours as he leans over you, hand pushing your upper back into the bed as he continues to bottom out with every thrust into your wet pussy.

The sounds in the room are animalistic. The squelching from his dick moving in and out of your cunt, your moans muffled in the comforter, Eddie’s hot and heavy breath coming out in puffs on your shoulder. He leans back up, wrapping one hand in your hair to bring you up with him. Untangling his hand from your hair he wraps it around your stomach to keep your back to his chest while his other hand reaches down to give attention to your clit again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you pant out, coil in your belly tightening again. “I’m so close.”

“Yeah,” he laughs teasingly. “I can tell, your cunt is gripping me so hard right now.”

“Shut it, Munson, and make me cum.”

“Fuck, fine, but god knows I’ll bust as soon as you do so where do you want me?”

“Inside, I’m on the pill and impatient.”

“Shit,” he mutters into your neck. Eddie puts more pressure on your clit as his thrusts become sloppier. “Cum, come on, let go.”

And you do. You both do. As soon as Eddie feels your release cover his cock, his release coats your walls. He ruts up into you a few more times before pulling out of your warm, wet cunt and leaning back on his headboard. “Never took you for a domme-type, Y/N.”

“Never took you for a hard switch. I definitely prefer you as the sweet little obedient sub from earlier though.”

“Not a word of that to anyone, okay. I’m the dom with most hookups, you just caught me in the moment.”

“You really think I’d admit to people that we fucked?” You reach for and grab your panties and shorts before sliding off the bed to slip them on. “I can’t let people know I caved,” you laugh. “So, how much for an ounce?”

Eddie laughs, “not gonna lie, I forgot that’s why you were here.”

“How much for an ounce, Munson,” you sigh slipping your shoes back on.

“Why do you want so much?”

“The fewer times I have to see you outside of school the better.”

Eddie feigns heartbreak, “ouch, Y/N, that hurts.” He pouts as he reaches into his bedside table and pulls out a bag of weed. “I’ll do it for $80. We can call it the Wet Dick Discount.”

“This is another reason why I don’t like you,” you mutter, handing him the money.

“Listen, I got off, you got off, I got money, you got your weed. I think it was a solid interaction.”

“Yeah well, don’t expect it to happen again.”

“Have $160 next time then. Or plan to see me a little more often in your free time.”

…it definitely happened again…a few times…of course the Wet Dick Discount was only ever given to you…

[precious-little-scoundrel]

We need a dear John sneak like today I’m so desperate😭

Oh my dear, of course lemme get you one sweetie pie, yall have been so patient. Here, have a morsel 🥰 18+ per usual babies

Dear John || Sneak Peak

“Bucky, John, JOHN, MAJOR, JOHN EGAN SLOW DOWN!!!”

Distantly, through a ear ringing fog he could hear them calling his name, there were quite a lot of them and many didn’t really know him, not well, and even those he cared for -Buck and Harry and Ev and Jack- their greetings had turned desperate and they called his name in a effort to stall, not welcome.

But holy shit, she was in England, and he was in England, and fucking fate thought it was real cute to yank the string once more and he wasn’t going to play nice anymore. He was gonna show fate where it could shove its little game of marionettes.

He was gonna keep Julie Jean on the damn ground if he had to climb on the wing of her soon departing jet to do it.

And to do that, to get there in time to do it, he needed to kindly disregard the flock of squawking pals behind him.

“John if you go now you’ll only miss her!” Gale’s rising voice warned, beginning to try to physically restrain his friend’s headlong rampage towards the nearest jeep.

“That one’s low on gas.” Ev helped the cause laconically from the back.

“I’m not just sitting here while she goes-“ Egan informed them without a hitch in his stride.

“Let us send a telegram!” Crosby begged, “She told us to alert her, to call or to wire, anything if you were to come back. Going now you’ll just miss her! Sir, sir please! If I get to her a-a-and you’re on the road w-w-what will I-I-I say?”

“Yeah,” Gale agreed, “gonna make us tell her you’re alive but we don’t have you ‘cause you’re broke down on some backroad in East fuckin’ Anglia ‘cause you couldn’t wait to call?”

“Yeah, think of it Bucky,” Demarco came in to aid his copilot, “it’s sweet but, it’ll suck if she makes it.”

“How’d you let her go?” John suddenly railed at Buck who took it like his decent, patient self in the face of a half starved, lovelorn maniac he was glad to find alive again, who’d only just touched down on English soil half an hour ago and was taking news of his girl being here and then being gone pretty well, all Buckyisms considered, “How could you, when she was here! HERE, Buck! How-“

“She said she hadta go, John, and after everything she did for us, for all of us-“ Gale sighed, “I wasn’t about to ask her for longer. She was in trouble as is, seems, with her mother.”

That seemed to frazzle Bucky worse, even if it shut him up for five seconds of wordless scoffing before, “Trouble? She’s in trouble, yeah, yeah, wanna know what kinda trouble her mother is? Shitty Fucks!!!” he roared at the sky and it was ferocious and crass enough to scare of some of the gathered newbies.

Croz exchanged a glance with a hunger carved Brady, “Shitty Fucks” he repeated, “-that’s a new one.”

Captain Brady nodded solemnly. “Makes one wonder if it’s metaphorical or literal.”

Croz processed this gravely.

“Like is it -a shit lay? or shitty lay, ya know?”

“Gentleman?” Gale turned to them for backup with blatant and frigid exasperation.

[mndvx]

umbrellaacad three more months brellies! now excuse me while i zoom in and obsess over every detail 🔍🔍🔍🔍🔍🔍🔍 the final season of THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY is out on aug 8!

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY SEASON 4 Episode 1 “The Unbearable Tragedy of Getting What You Want”

EXT. UNDERGROUND PARKING GARAGE - NIGHT

Gene and Jean approach Eddy waiting next to the back of his car.

JEAN: I’m Dr. Jean Thibedeau, this is my husband, Dr. Gene (Thibedeau) --

EDDY: Don’t need yer names. Don’t care who ya are.

Eddy pops open his trunk. Inside is a SMALL SUITCASE. He OPENS it, REVEALING --

A pile of STRANGE ITEMS: beat-up paperbacks, piles of VHS tapes, t-shirts from the 2000 Olympics in New York City, a button supporting JFK for his third term. WTF?

EDDY: Cash or trade, straight up.

It looks like random junk you might find at a shitty yard sale. But Gene and Jean are breathless with excitement.

GENE: Whaddaya see, Jean?

Jean scours through the items like a seasoned picker until something catches her eye --

JEAN: Oh, Gene. Look! Love on Loan!

She holds up two VHS copies of a cheesy romantic comedy, “LOVE ON LOAN”. Gene’s eyes widen, thrilled.

The boxes are identical in every way except one box features a MOVIE STAR we don’t recognise; the other: ALLISON HARGREEVES (Season One). Same movie. Same box art. Different stars. How is that possible???

JEAN: Look at the name. Hargreeves.

GENE: Yeah, yeah. I see it.

EDDY: Ten grand for the pair.

Gene and Jean look dismayed. Too rich for their blood.

GENE: Best we can do is five.

Eddy gets in Gene’s face, threatening.

EDDY: This ain’t a negotiation, pal. Ten grand or f**k off.

Gene and Jean trade a look. A silent decision made between them. Jean backs down. She unzips her MONEY BELT, pulls out an envelope and hands it over. Eddy snatches it.

EDDY: Good call, Doc.

[sketchfanda]

A Little Moxxie Love:Cotton Candy Queen Bee

Somedays Moxxie had to wonder if he was somehow the luckiest and unluckiest guy in all of he’ll all at once. Born into wealth but it eas a mafia family,had a wonderful mom but lost ehr to his asshole of a dad. Who apparently couldn’t even tell the difference between a bisexual and a homosexual, no surprise there. To say nothing of that moron Chaz,which lead to him being in jail where he’d meet Blitzo. How much better or worse can vary because hey he met and married Millie, the most wonderful and damn fine sexiest thing to come out of the Wrath circle. Who of course was one very kinky, horny little imp who thought very highly of him in the bedroom, which of course he knew had to do with the current situation he found himself in. It was the usual familiar sort of situation, as he eyed his smiling wife sat in a couch in the corner, her tail wagging snd her eyes twinkling with eager mischief for the show she was about to enjoy. A familiar situation, Millie about to indulge in voyeurism watching him go at it with another woman. Only instead of their apartment or some room in a motel or hotel, they were in the bedroom of the personal beehive like home….of Queen Beelzebub herself. Or Queen bee,just plain Bee even, standing right before him in a sultry pose with those four arms of hers, her lava lamp midriff and liquid like tail glowing with a gleam thst gave a bit of atmosphere to the room. To say Moxxie’s brain was going a mile a minute was an understatement and really who could blame him? Not just anyone, let alone an imp got to be an intimate set up like this with the Queen of Gluttony after all but of course here he was and going by the fact she was stripping naked, she wasn’t here to have just a friendly chat or anything….

Bee:-w-“Like hey now, Little Guy,no need to be so nervous. Your lady there is okay on this you know….”*she playfully quipped,walking over to him sensually as thst honey like tail of her swayed lazily behind her. Those pink hazy eyes of his locked on him as he felt like a mouse cornered by a cat. The fact he was currently sitting shirtless might have only added to the overall mood for him…*

Moxxie:”Oooh crumble…well Uhm,ms.Bee,I mean yiur highness,I mean miss queen Bee yiur highness,I mean my lady,I mean…”*and of course there went his brain going all haywire. Making him fumble with his words as his nerves were getting to him.*

Millie:^w^”Deep breath now,hun….”*She reassured her hubby,as she sat cross legged on the couch. Her body trembling and tingling with anticipation at what was sure to be a hell of a show. Sure Moxxie was all nervous right now but once he got in the mood,she knew he’d bring his A game.*

Bee:”You heard her handsome. Just relax…and just Bee is fine.”*the rather easy going part queen added,one claw reaching out To scratch and teases under his chin. Grinning playfully as they watched the imp hitman take a deep breath,inhaling and exhaling before he seemed like he wasn’t as anxious or jittery mere seconds before.*

Moxxie:”Right so Miss Bee,I mean ma’am,Uhm Bee. If you’d just remind me how and why we are doing this? I mean besides that I Millie had Something to with it…”*shooting a teasing glance at his wife,who simp,t gave him a cute little blep his way. He just couldn’t stay mad at her…*

Bee:”Aah wasn’t much,your cute little hellhound gal pal and your lady here told me all about how you,like,get around? Course I got interested and wanted to sample the goods and seemed a fair trade to let the cutie get some quality time with Tex ya know…? Somethjng me and your little lady got in common we like our men to be happy..” *the gluttony fox bee couldn’t help but snicker at Moxxie’s deadpan glance as he rolled those sweet little eyes of his at that statement.*

Millie:”and a deal’s a deal Moxxie. So we’re all good here.”*his wife waved off. She may not seem it on the surface level but right about now she was horny as all fuck. Her baggy black jeans hiding her slit gushing out pussy juice like oil struck from the ground. She’d seen and joined in on Moxxie with succubi,other demon girls,just in hell alone. But the queen of gluttony herself? This was going to be hot.”

Moxxie of course couldn’t help but remember that yes indeed, that’s the how and by he found himself about to get sexually intimately and acquainted with Bee. Apparently Loona had somehow been to one of the gluttony queen’s infamous and legendary parties. They’d kept in touch and Millie of course got involved which lead to their usual game of arranging these kind of set ups for him. The fact it meant Loona was right now busy getting hot,wild and pornographic with Vortex was the deal sealer for the snarky tsundere hellhound. Which would explain the room next door across the way shaking and echoing with the howls and moans he was familiar with her making when she was getting nicely and intensely fucked. The fact she scored this opportunity for a mutual swing was at her nice of her so he couldn’t complain. It helped Bee had opted to have this in her own room away from the prying eyes and ears of her latest party certainly helped, he felt he didn’t need a repeat of the viral pseudo incest live show he and Millie caused at thst summer camped as Moxxine and Millerd. The Imp hitman casting aside any remaining doubt or nerves as he undid his pans. Dropping them along with his boxers as Bee widened her eyes slightly at the sight of his fully exposed cocky. The crimson red length and girth rising to be more stiffer than the rifles or shotguns the imp was used to handling in the job but knew how to use just as well. His own natural lethal weapon, primed and ready to go rock a woman’s world.

Bee:*a look combining shock and surprise on her face before it took on an expression of sultry desire. Licking her maw as she strode okn over the Imp, the wolf bee purring at his determined yet nervous he seemed.*”Well well Little Man, wasn’t expecting such a treat…like I know you’d be lacking but THAT is a nice surprise…now we are ally gonna party……”*soon as she said this,she pressed her lips to his as one of her hands grasped and began to stroke his imp shaft. Pre oozing from the tip as her remaining 3 hands caressed and massaged his torso. Finding that despite his slim looking frame he had some muscle tone to him. Relaxed moans pouring from her as she felt Moxxie’s tongue dance against her own,the imo finding her saliva, no surorise had a sweet tangy taste akin to honey.*

Millie:0/./0”oh this is so damn fucking hot…”*the shortstack wrath imp squirmed,a bundle of aroused energy in her seat getting turned on just watching her husband and the gluttony queen making out. Gripping the couch arms as she looked on at Bee kissing her way down along Moxxie’s neck and chest. Licking her lips and shuddering at hearing her hubby groan with ecstasy as Bee latched her muzzle into his cock. Proceeding to suck and blow as that warm honey like saliva soaked and lubed up his length and girth, the wolf bee feeling her spine tingle,her lava lamp midriff and tail glowing at Moxxie proceeding to buck his hips in response to her sinful fellatio.*

Moxxie:”Oooooh crumbs…..”*Seemed understandable this was all Moxxie could say as the candy sweet,sugary blow on Bee was giving him was unreal. But that didn’t mean the imp was going to stay idle and not give back as good as he was getting. Which was how Bee now found herself laying flat on the bed, lusty howling moans as Moxxie ate her out. His reptilian like tongue probing away at her slit as he licked and lapped up her nectar. No surprise given her nature and being that it had a flavour and texture akin to honey. Her fours closed hands grasping the sheets,her wings fluttering, midriff snd tail glowing with a cozy sensual haze. If she was getting horny before, the imp hitman’s oral skills were working her into going into heat.*

it was only natural then that moxxie and the gluttony queen’s fire okay would lead them right into the main event. The honeycomb walls and ceilings echoing with the sounds of crimson skin slapping against golden fur mixed with primal sounds of passionate ecstasy. The bed’s springs shaking and creaking as the bee wolf took it doggy style. Her lava lamp midriff a liquid tornados in response to thst length and girth pumping into her slit. The inner muscles of ehr oussy stroking and massaging that alpha imp cock as the tip pounded at the door of her womb. Her tail wrapped around his waist as the slimes warmth massaged and soothed his muscles, his hips becoming nearly a blur as his heavy golf ball sized smacking her clit as her ass and tits jiggled and bounced every impact. Millie by this point had stripped off her clothes,naked as they were as she played with herself with lusty abandon. Squeezing her tits and and probing her pussy with abandon, eyes glowing with pink hearts at this front row up close and personal display of her Moxxie’s raw sexual prowess. Nothing got her more turned on than this.

Millie:”just couldn’t help myself,ya know?”*The wrath imp quipped as she knelt on the bed,licking away where Moxxie’s dick met and connected with Bee’ a pussy lips. The pair in a mating press as the gluttony queen used her four arms to hold her own legs back, grunting Moxxie deeper reach and penetration. Millie got so turned on,she added herself to the mix. That was after 5 rounds in from her man cumming inside the honey bee wolf. Not that Bee didn’t mind, if anything it was nice case of lust and gluttony going hand in hand.*

Bee:”mmm you taste sweet as you look cutie…”*the gluttony queen quipped erotically as the shortstack imp sat on her muzzled face. Her tongue lapping away at Millie’s sloppy pussy,drinking up her juices as the tangy taste dazzled her tastebuds. Noting a rather cotton candy flavour to her delight as husband and wife made out above her, moxxie fucking her in basic but effective missionary as his shaft jackhammered away into her sticky,warm honeypot.*

Moxxie:oooh crumbscrumbscumcrumbscsnt’sstopwon’tstop…”*The imp hitman’s words like his mind going a mile a second as pleasure filled his libido to levels you’d never think an imo his height and what not could be capable of. Fucking his wife’s pussy as Millie laid atop the queen of gluttony, the two infernal hotties making out as their tongues danced together in a shared mutual lust for the alpha male imp rocking their worlds. His heavy balls smacking their clits as he switched between which pussy or eben their assholes he’d be fucking. The bedsheets stained with sweat,honey and juices as the room was becoming a mess.*

As the party was going on inside Bee’s mansion,a veritable flavour morty of sweets,confectioneries and booze flowing. All the while their hostess was having the time of life in her own way. Her and Millie changing it up between one on one to two on one with Moxxie any and every instance he came. Their holes overflowin and oozing with his seed with so far no signs of slowing down to a stop. Which was all well and good for Loona as the longer they went at it,the longer she got some one on one time with Tex. The hellhound roadie’s room becoming a more trashed than his boss verosika on one of her Bee honey fuelled benders. The queen of gluttony thinking even in her orgasmic haze that this little arrangement wasn’t going to be just a one time thing that was for sure. Millie was a spitfire and her husband more than exceeded expectations. How sweet it truly is…