#and she smokes too much 😂

[spookylilbimbo]

One quick before bed selfie 🖤

#i should have been asleep so long ago lmao #he went to bed almost 5 hours ago..and i should have too but damn sleeping without him is so hard #like nights at mikes im in bed at a reasonable hour and any other night im up until at least 3 😂🙃 #its like 330 so im at least going to try to sleep. but damn its hard without him #i just miss him so much #it feels so silly but i sleep like she all the time since i stopped smoking. except when im next to him #hopefully tonight doesnt bring me more nightmares like last night did..only one way to find out though #too soft for all of it

[il-miele-che-scrive]

the one where Y/n and Charles had different priorities

this is maybe a bit chaotic because I had one idea and unclear vision, but I like how it turned out eventually

view all comments

username1 How do you know? HOW DO YOU KNOW?!

username2 They have WHAT

username3 nah I don't believe in love anymore

username4 But they were together since even before Charles was in formula 1🥺

↳username2 Right? I thought they'll be together forever

username5 And there goes my hope for them to announce an engagement soon

↳username6 Sameeee except I thought someday they'll just have a secret wedding and not tell the media until weeks/months after

username5 Ngl that sounds like a them thing to do

username6 Well, not anymore

username7 My only question is why? 😭

↳username1 Literally because they seemed like a perfect couple. What could go wrong?

username8 Shit, that hurts more than my parents' divorce

username9 THEY BROKE UP AFTER 8 YEARS??

↳username10 what 😳

username9 They were together since 2016, I remember Charles saying this in some interview

username6 Yup that's right, he mentioned it many times, he was so in love with Y/n. I swear even recently he said after so many years he still falls in love more and more each day

username9 She was there for him when his dad passed, when Charles joined F1, when he signed up with Ferrari, when he won his first F1 race, I wonder what happened that made them break up so suddenly

username10 Oh so she was there for basically a huge part of his life

username5 I remember when Charles said "she's not a part of my life. She IS my life" about Y/n😭my standards for men have been high up in space ever since

username11 Wow just like Sainz broke up with his long term girlfriend last season. Let's just hope Leclerc won't pop up with a new girl weeks after that

↳username12 Charles and Y/n could be broken up for a long time now, we can only speculate when they broke up

username5 Imagine if Charles posted the Vegas vlog after their breakup 🥹 I'm not okay

username12 That was so unnecessary to say, I'm crying now

yourusername One for the money, two for the show, I never was ready so I watch you go

view all comments

username1 The caption guys...

↳username2 Does that mean what I think it means?

username3 What do you think it means?

username2 "I never was ready" he wanted to take things to the next level, but she didn't. "So I watch you go" means she had to let him go because they didn't want the same thing

username3 How could she not be ready after whole 8 years?

username2 Every person matures in their own time and that's okay, they'll both find someone else

username4 That's a Swiftie going through a breakup

username5 Noooo it's confirmed now 😭 as long as neither of them confirmed it I could stay delulu and think the rumours are just rumours

oldersister Thank you for babysitting Snow White 🐈‍⬛ (I wish there was a white cat emoji)

↳yourusername It was my pleasure! She's an angel (and a professional model)

oldersister Feel free to come over anytime you want, Snow White loves her aunt 🤍

youngersister HEY how dare you steal Y/n like that!! I wanted to take her out for milkshakes sometime

oldersister Chill, you can do that whenever you want I'm not stealing anyone

yourusername I'd love to go out for milkshakes!!

lilymhe No more Y/nLily in the paddock?

↳yourusername The paddock isn't the only place where we can hang out 😂

landonorris what are you up to on the 2nd pic? 🤨📸

↳username2 LANDO, DON'T

↳username4 LANDO IT'S TOO EARLY

↳username1 DONT RUIN OUR CHANCES TO HAVE Y/NCHARLES BACK

↳username1 Fuckboy Lando been doing too much fuckboying lately

username6 Didn't know she's a smoker

↳username7 Yeah, she was very secretive about it

username2 It's not like she was hiding it from y'all

username7 She was, probably because she would be canceled for being a wag who smokes cigarettes

username2 A grown woman can do what she wants

username6 It's better that they broke up, way healthier for Charles to not be around a smoker

username2 Wtf she was with him through bad and good times, supporting him no matter what, loving him, making beautiful memories together and you say it's good that they broke up because she smokes?

username4 May I add we never saw her smoking throughout the 8 years, she probably started after the breakup

username5 after the breakup or BECAUSE of the breakup?

charles_leclerc Leaving Bahrain with a good result despite some difficulties. Pretty good weekend if you ignore the braking problem, now onto Jeddah next 🏎

view all comments

username1 brAking problem or brEAking problem?

username2 How is that the start of the season and there's already something wrong with his car?

yourusername Congratulations on finishing P4🏁given the issues your car had, you did a spectacular job

↳charles_leclerc Thank you 😇 I tried my best, but felt like something is missing

yourusername I'm sorry :(

↳username3 WHAT IS Y/N DOING HERE? ARE THEY BACK TOGETHER?

username4 I wish I could believe they are, but I guess some people break up on good terms

username3 How could anyone end a 8yrs old relationship and be friends? 😭

↳username5 Jail for miss Y/n for leading fans on

username6 He looked so sad the whole time, during interviews and all that 😔

↳username7 Yeah he's either done with the car already or he misses Y/n that much

username8 DID Y'ALL SEE THAT ONE INTERVIEW WHERE HE GOT ASKED ABOUT Y/N NOT BEING IN BAHRAIN??

↳username6 WHAT INTERVIEW??

username8 A lady asked him why Y/n isn't here because she never missed the first race of the season before so it's surprising. He officially said that over the winter break they've decided to part ways due to focusing on different aspects of life🥲

username9 How do you figure something like this out after 8 fucking years? They wasted each other's time

username7 Calm down lol they grew and matured with each other, experienced how their love evolved throughout the years, no time you put into this is a wasted time

username10 I need to know what are the aspects of life they focus on and if they really are that different

↳username11 From what I figured from Y/n's post and Charles' interview - he wanted to get married, maybe even start a family and she wasn't ready

username10 Ahhh I remember how a few years ago Charles said he wants to have three kids. Such a shame Y/n doesn't want the same thing, but it's understandable they figured it now. They were kids themselves when they started dating lol

username11 Not really, they were both over 18 years old

username10 I know, but still that's a pretty young age and you might not know yet what do you really want in life

username12 Plus your brain develops until you're 25, they both turn 27 this year so it explains a lot

username13 I'm telling you, there would be no problems if Y/n was there, @/yourusername get your lazy ass on a plane to Jeddah

oldersister Amazing performance this weekend👏

youngersister Goodluck for Jeddah 🍀

username14 The way Y/n AND her sisters still interact with Charles on social media...

↳username15 Yeah like are they actually broken up??

3 weeks later

yourusername You'd be surprised if I told you why kangaroos are called kangaroos

view all comments

username1 What is miss doing in Australia during the race week?

oldersister I told you this story is fake 🙄

↳yourusername But it's funny so I'm gonna believe it

oldersister Kangaroo DOESN'T mean "I don't know" jesus christ

username2 I thought it does 😭

username3 Too much Tiktok I guess lmao

youngersister Glad I could have milkshakes with you in Australia 😌

↳yourusername Back at you although that was a strange excuse to go to Australia in the first place

youngersister It's just not the same in Europe

arthur_leclerc Y/n in her natural habitat🦘

↳yourusername I swear I was a kangaroo in a past life

↳username4 What is going on? Y/n and Charles broke up but they keep interacting with each other and each other's families

username5 I NEED to know which city it is

username6 Is that true all announcements on public transport are made with Oscar Piastri's voice??

↳yourusername Yup, I wonder how much convincing it took to get Oscar to do the voiceover

landonorris not a lot to be honest

username5 AHA so she is in Melbourne! Also, what are you doing here Lando?

landonorris do you wanna hear another aussie fun fact?

↳yourusername I'm scared but yes (as long as it's not about thongs)

landonorris do you know what an australian kiss is?

yourusername @/oscarpiastri please put Lando back in his cage

username7 HELP I'M GASPING FOR AIR, LANDO ALWAYS TAKES THE CHANCE TO SHOOT HIS SHOT

username8 Not gonna lie it pisses me off how Lando tries to "flirt" with Y/n in her comments

↳username2 Me too, it's not ethical

username9 I'm afraid Lando doesn't care lol and I don't think Y/n would ever consider going out with another driver considering Charles and her broke up on good terms

username10 I'm just wondering if norris ever tried funny business back when Y/n would come to races

↳username11 prolly not but hey now he's free to do it

username5 Just because he's free to do it doesn't mean he should do it

view all comments

username2 OH 😃

username3 So that's what she's doing in Australia

username4 Wait why is Jacob Elordi in Australia?

↳username2 Well, Jacob is Australian, why wouldn't he be there?

username4 HE'S AUSTRALIAN?!

username5 One thing Charles can't beat is the height 😩

↳username6 Is it worth it tho? Jacob treated his exes pretty badly, he's a cheater

username5 And? People change

username6 Bro, he cheated on Zendaya

username5 Chill out, maybe Y/n isn't even on a date with him, maybe they're just hanging out

username7 If I were Y/n I would enter my hoe phase now and Jacob is a good choice to start with

username8 THIS CAN'T BE TRUE

username9 Charles where are you? 😭 Y/n is a sweetheart, she shouldn't be with Jacob

username10 Sometimes I regret opening this app

username11 Didn't Jacob attend a few races? Is that were he met Y/n?

↳username12 Keep saying things like this and watch gossip unfold about how Y/n was waiting to leave Charles for Jacob

username13 Miss girl did a downgrade

↳username14 Is it a downgrade though if he's that tall?

username13 He can be as tall as he wants, but Charles was Y/n's soulmate and I'll always stand by that

username9 Plus the height doesn't make up for the personality

username14 What personality? 💀 Girl you don't even know him

username9 Someone who cheats on their partner clearly isn't a very pleasant person to date

username5 CALM DOWN GUYS we can't be sure they were on a date, it could be just two friends catching up

username9 what friends? I've never even seen them talk before and there were opportunities

yourusername Don't panic guys, I've been spending most of the time with @/youngersister and her aussie friends

view all comments

youngersister Yeah, I clearly didn't set you up for a date with a certain actor...

↳username1 SHE SET Y/N UP WITH HIM?!

username2 Evil mastermind

username3 How did that even happen lmao

↳yourusername Thankfully it didn't go as good as you'd wish it would 😌

youngersister No worries, I have other options up my sleeve

yourusername Keep them up there 🤺

↳username4 I'm confused is [younger sisters name] team Charles or not?

username5 She's just a menace it seems

username6 What's up with Y/n? She didn't wanna be with Charles, but she doesn't wanna move on. That's not normal

youngersister Don't make me set you up with Lando

↳yourusername You'd never, I know you think he's annoying

youngersister Yeah, but he gives me that vibe of a guy who can make you forget about your ex

yourusername That's called a fuckboy

youngersister You deserve a bit of fun don't you 🥳 I'm not saying you have to go straight back to being in a relationship

yourusername NO THANK YOU

username5 Lmao I love how they're having this convo here instead of on dms

username6 OR FACE TO FACE??

username7 Why does Y/n's lil sis support the idea of Y/n having a hoe phase? 😭

landonorris I was hoping you'd come see the race;)

↳yourusername Better luck next time I guess :)

a few months later

view all comments

username1 YEAH I WAS LIKE WHAT THE HELL???

username3 I can't defend Charles anymore

username4 Apparently her name is Angeliqué and she's a daughter of some French entrepreneur (a/n: I made her up)

username5 I didn't want Charles to move on, I wanted him to be back with Y/n 😭

↳username6 Worse thing is, Charles moved on but Y/n didn't. She went on this weird staged date with Jacob Elordi a few months ago and that's it

username7 NOOO 😭😭

username8 Charles better say sike now 🔫

username9 Please tell me it's a joke

username10 It truly feels like some part of me being torn apart knowing that Y/n and Charles broke up for good and he moved on

username11 Do we really know nothing about what's going on with Y/n? She must feel terrible now, I'm sure she saw that Angeliqué girl on TV

↳username9 What makes you think she would still watch races?

username11 It seemed like her and Charles are on friendly terms, so why wouldn't she still watch his races?

↳username12 She hasn't posted anything since Australia, went hella private, she ISN'T okay, I think she even stopped hanging out with Lily M

username13 I did some more research and that Angeliqué girl is 20 years old

↳username12 So we're supposed to believe that Y/n who is Charles' age wasn't ready to start a family, but a 20 year old Charles met weeks ago is? Charles, explain yourself

username9 Honestly the new girl seems just like a distraction from Y/n or a PR relationship

username12 You might be right, maybe Charles can't forget about Y/n so he went with "wanna get over, get under someone new"

username14 Nahhhh cuz she was all over Charles whenever she could and he looked so done 💀 that's definitely a stunt

↳username1 Literally, she was always hugging him, touching, holding hands, she barely let him interact with fans, Y/n was so much better AND she always respected Charles' fans

username15 imagine not being able to move on for MONTHS so your pr team finds you a fake gf

yourusername Excuse the inactivity, I've been watching Gilmore Girls

view all comments

username1 Very understandable in this case

username2 Our Rory Gilmore finally watching the og Rory Gilmore 🙏

oldersister I'm afraid Snow White might like you more than she likes me 😂

↳yourusername I'm the cool aunt 🤭

youngersister Excuse me???

yourusername I said what I said

youngersister And I don't agree with what you said

yourusername Would you watch Gilmore Girls with Snow White? Nope. I do. So I win the cool aunt competition

username3 Guys... When did Charles unfollow Y/n?

↳username2 He unfollowed?

username3 Yeah... He didn't comment nor even like, so I went to check and he doesn't follow Y/n anymore but she still follows him

username2 Ouch that hurts

username4 I don't care that Charles doesn't follow Y/n anymore, what counts is that she is happy 😊 look at the last pic, she's so adorable with Snow White

↳username5 True, she looks happy and healthy while Charles is out there having to put up with a fake girlfriend

username6 What's funny is that Charles doesn't follow Y/n anymore, but both his brothers and majority of F1 drivers do

↳username7 including the ones who followed her after the breakup 😏

username8 Don't try to make up new rumours, Y/n is single and happy

username9 Not to be mean but... It says something about Charles that he had to unfollow

↳username6 He either thought it'll help him forget or the new girlfriend made him unfollow

username9 Either way it tells us he's still thinking about Y/n

landonorris been a while since I last saw you

↳yourusername Let's see how long we can keep the streak up

username6 SLAAAAAY QUEEN

username10 I'll never be over the Y/nCharles breakup, I'm still going through it months after

↳username11 That's okay because so is Charles

username12 Tbh in Y/n's place I would just take the chance and go for Lando, just to prove that Charles' PR relationship is in vain

↳username2 That's not something Y/n would do, but if she ever did that I would support her

Username13 dating men is so much stress, why bother while you can sit at home with a cat watching Gilmore Girls instead?

#Charles Leclerc x reader #Charles leclerc imagine #Charles leclerc smau #F1 smau #F1 x reader #F1 imagine #Charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 social media au #Formula 1 smau #formula 1 x reader #Charles leclerc social media au

[boiohboii]

The surprising match

(Max Verstappen x Korean actress reader)

SOULMATE AU

N.B: this is just an idea that came to mind cause I am a hoe for soulmate aus, so if you know any f1 soulmate aus please tell me! WARNINGS: ONLINE HATE, THE WORDS WHORE, SLUT AND DICK ARE USED. SWEAR WORDS LIKE FUCK AND ASSHOLE ARE ALSO USED, if I missed anything please let me know! And obviously some spelling mistakes.... might do a part 2 idk yet

Faceclaim: Han so hee

SKENTNEWS.COM

Liked by doO_nct, realstraykids, maxverstappen1 and 4.8M others

YN99LN: had too much fun this week, thank you everyone for showing my new drama this much love

username: BOY IF YOU DON'T STOP

username: Max really has no idea what being slick is huh.

username: I hate you

username: slut

username: I really hope this fun didn't involve the vroom vroom boy

username: vroom vroom boy 💀😂

username: ikr, can't believe we might lose our queen

username: I'm in Spain without the s

username: low quality picture, high quality woman

username: show off

username: when you're YN LN but still take 144p pictures

username: the struggle is real

Liked by agustd, saythename_17, danielricciardo and 6.8M others

YN99LN: Canada, you are so kind to me. I want to stay with you

username: so who is Canada?

username: you know who else is in Canada? MAX FUCKING VERSTAPPEN

username: this is definitely about Max

username: DANNY WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

username: no because if this is about max and she's happy about the fact that he's nice it's too sad cause wtf has she been through

username: you really don't wanna know

username: all my homies hate what people in SK did to her

username: oh my god, stop showing off you bitch

username: I hope you die

username: I feel like a victorian man seeing collar bones for the first time

username: IKR!! something about her collar bones!

username: as an f1 fan this community is so weird

username: collar bones? Really?

username: I feel like I entered another universe

username: is she drunk in the first pic?

username: yes, this whore just gets drunk and has tattoos and smokes, she's the worst

username: I was gonna say that it's so hot of her to post a pic like that

username: stay pressed you asshole

username: the second and last pictures tho

username: I am just a hole yn

username: bend me over your knee and slapp my cheeks ma'am

username: the leather pants and glasses are so 🔥

username: it gave me a boner and I don't even have a dick

username: I have a dick and now I am in the shower

username: everyone horny for yn

username: good for nothing pampered slut

username: I hope max leaves you

username: I hope he hates her

username: I read that she smokes as well and while I am against the action and stand by the fact that it's not cool to smoke seeing a South Korean famous person do that shit is so wild for me and turns me on

username: I want to chock on her boot's heel

username: yn please spit in my throat

username: wikihow please tell me how to give head

username: the 2nd picture makes me want to give her hickeys all over her back and shoulder

username: step on me

username: you f1 fans are wild

username: this comment section passed the vibe check

~this post has been removed~

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #charles leclerc #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen smau #max verstappen social media au #max verstappen soulmate au #f1 soulmate au #f1 social media #f1 twitter au #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x you

[blippymilk]

Hi! Could I request a brozone x female reader hc's where the reader is a bit sassy and the bros find it funny and hot lol. Thanks!

Brozone x Sassy Fem! Reader

A/N: Sorry for the long wait

————————————————————————————

John Dory:

- Completely head over heels for you

- John Dory loves a challenge and when you got sassy with him, you were definitely a challenge

- Finds it completely attractive and he thinks he’s going insane at first

- Before he gets with you he finds himself uninterested in others when they’re soft and easy, unlike you who always puts up a fight

- Left speechless sometimes when you shut him up with your clever comebacks/insults

“No cause you’re amazing and all but your attitude has been stressing me out lately.”

“Damn that’s crazy. Skill issue.”

“Wha- SEE!”

- Loves your tough demeanor though don’t let him fool you

Bruce:

- If anyone can handle a sassy reader the best, I definitely think Bruce would be the one

- If he can handle like 12 kids he can deal with you

- Loves his woman with a little spunk anyways

- Adores it having a woman that can not only stand up for yourself, but stand up for him too 😂

- If you have kids and they’re just as sassy he’s a little hysterical at first but he finds it hilarious when he gets used to it

“And I told her if she had a problem she can call my dad. Period.”

“*Nervous laugh* Period huh? Ok honey can you come here, I’m starting to think this kid is your clone.”

- But he’ll never regret his decision of choosing you, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him

Clay:

- Clay was meant for sassy women. Built for sassy women.

- I actually believe that he’d find non sassy women a little boring (but if he loves you, he loves you)

- At your constant beck and call (usually unless he’s working hard and he’s on a roll)

- If he could explain you in one word: “Hot.”

- If you’re ranting about some female who pissed you off today, he’s all ears. Just nods his head and agrees with your every word, even if you were considered “wrong” (like pffffft- how?)

“And this girl had the nerve to tell me I was stupid! Like be for real, didn’t you graduate highschool at 23?”

“No literally. I feel bad for you, she’s getting on my nerves just listening about her.”

“You get me so much.”

- Now he’s a big gossip and it’s all your fault 😂

Floyd:

- Probably didn’t realize you were sassy until he actually started dating you

- The second he watches you loose your temper he’s flabbergasted. And I mean that.

- Like for the next couple of days he’s basically jaw dropped

- When he finally gets over it he’s chill but once he sees you ima cation again, he feels…different

- Like suddenly this man’s heart is pounding, his cheeks are heating up, and his ears are practically smoking

- Accidentally picks up some of your attitude a little bit and sometimes it takes his brothers to point it out

“Are you serious Floyd?”

“Yup. But personally I told him he can miss me with that bs. Period. Wait-”

“HAH-”

Branch:

- Now we already know that Branch is a little sassy himself:

“Annnnnndddd~ a falsetto made of GOLD.”

“If this diaper was any smaller I could taste it.”

“Fine. But this is more than likely beneath me.”

- He however doesn’t realize he’s sassy so he’s unsure when it comes to you at first

- When he finally realizes that you’re the love of his life, you two are a pretty mouthy duo

- Like when his brothers first met you they were PUZZLED. Like eyebrows RAISED. They genuinely wondered if they had a long lost sister and they would have to break it to branch.

- If you were together during the plot of the first Trolls movie, you’d have Poppy stressinnnnnn

- Onc eye comes to an agreement that you both have that similarity in common, he just falls in love with you more 💙

————————————————————————————

#trolls #trolls band together #clay trolls #floyd trolls #john dory x reader #bruce x reader #clay x reader trolls #floyd x reader #branch trolls #branch x reader #trolls x reader #trolls headcanons #sorry for the long wait #=)

[zeldasnotes]

MARS NOTES🔥

Check out ⮕ Moon Notes, Venus Notes and Neptune Notes

If your kid or sibling got their Mars in the 10th house or Mars conjunct Midheaven please keep an eye on what they are doing on the internet. This placement is common in people who either gets bullied or bully others, especially online.

Ever since I read somewhere that people with Mars in Scorpio looks sex starved I cant stop seeing it. They really got this hot heavy energy surrounding them screaming ”Ive been waiting for too long”

Mars in the 1st house makes someone smoking hot just look at Megan Fox.

Mars in the 8th house synastry is one of my favorite aspects if its with your prefered sex and someone you are attracted to otherwise its just annoying. Im a straight woman and I dont like having another womans mars in my 8th because its giving ”Why are you so obsessed with me?”

Mars Square Pluto are so goal oriented I seriously want this placement. Like they always come out on top. If they want it they get it.

Having Mars in the same sign as someone creates such rivalry its insane. Like you just cant help it because you want the same things and you use the same strategies. You see through eachother. This aspects is better in romantic relationships.

I always know when someone got their rising in the same sign as my mars because I cant stop staring at them.

Mars in the 1st house & Mars in the 8th house in synastry is super common between couples who had sex the first time they met.

If someone you work with got their Mars in your 6th house be careful because this can be a secret enemy or a workrival. They might gossip about you to the boss.

Mars on the Ascendant or Midheaven can really make someone look like a model.

Ive noticed that people with Mars in Leo can read into stuff too much to feed their ego. I have a friend with that placement who works in a store and there is this guy she dated years ago who always goes to that store. She thinks he goes there to see her and that he is obsessed with her. When I try to tell her that he probably goes there because the store is his neighbourhood store shes like ”No”. 😂 The funny part is that this man have been living in this neighbourhood since he was a child so hes been going to that store his whole life, deep down she knows this.

Ive noticed that Mars in Taurus people are naturally beautiful and look like they could model. They just naturally move in a sensual way like they are posing.

Mars aspecting Jupiter are like a bull in a chinashop. Sooo clumsy but they are so funny and kind😂

Mars in Scorpio women gets into a lot of conflicts with men. Men are so threathened by them.

Mars Square Jupiter haaates waiting. They want what they want now.

Mars aspecting the Ascendant have a ”dont try me” look to their face and their walk.

My Mars Square a mans Ascendant usually makes it hard for me to see him as husband material.

Mars Square Moon and Mars Square Uranus can really make someone explode out of nowhere.

Mars conjunct Venus is definitely the IT girl aspect.

Mars conjunct Midheaven can make you known for your body. Either by modeling or being an influencer. Your looks are seen as hot by the general public. Huge risk for being involved in scandals here tho

Mars in Virgo use their words to hurt people when they fight.

Mars in Sagittarius have the most beautiful body. I know Ive said it before but those legs are just gorgeous. 🐎

Mars in Aquarius is such a beautiful placement to have.They fight for equality. A rapper in my hometown got this and people complained about him having women who look too ”regular and plain” in his music videos instead of hiring strippers or escorts for his videos. But he refused to hire unrealistic women for his videos.

© 2022 Zeldas Notes

#astro notes #astrology #astro observations #astronotes #ascendant #mars square ascendant #birth chart readings

[kdogreads]

Richie Jerimovich NSFW Alphabet

Co-written with the incredible @foreveraimingtowardsthesky

Thank you so much for collabing on this, my friend! It’s been a longtime coming but here we are 🤪😍

Enjoy this look into our wildest delulu fantasies with our bb Richie. This was a 50/50 project and still took us forever so please APPRECIATE IT 😂❤️

A — Aftercare

There is nothing Richie loves more than smoking a cigarette with you in his arms after he blows your mind. He’s trained to read people and you are no exception. He’ll help you clean up then he’ll cuddle you, or kiss you silly, or light you a joint, or brush your hair for you. Whatever you need this time, he’s on it.

B – Body part (favourite of yours and theirs)

Richie likes - no loves - your mouth. The way your lips close around a cigarette plucked from his hand, the wet heat of it when his fingers press against your tongue, how you open up so readily for him when you’re on your knees, the sharp indent of your teeth in your lower lip when you’re trying to be quiet.. Yeah, he could lose hours dreaming of your mouth, thinking of new ways he can make it his. Spit in it. Gag it. Have you clean him up with your tongue..

C — Cum

Richie can be nasty. He wants to cum on your face, your chest, your ass, literally anywhere he can. It’s his way to mark you as his without leaving hickies or anything, ever the practical thinker. His favorite by far, though, if you’ll let him, is to cum inside you. Chef’s kiss.

D – Dirty secret

Richie has fucked, or tried to fuck, too many short-lived staff at The Beef to mention. But that’s no secret. In fact, there’s really only one thing he hopes never gets out. Luckily for him, she feels the same way. Chalk it up to the effects of grief and alcohol, explain it away however you like, but if word got round? I don’t think her little brother would ever get over it.

E — Experience

Honestly, Richie doesn’t have a ton of experience with different partners, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t treat you R I G H T. He’s only had a couple relationships besides you and Tiff and maybe he brought home a girl from the bar once or twice before you. This man is a very, very fast learner, though. It doesn’t take him long to learn every little thing that drives you wild and he’s more than willing to experiment with what you like (always with permission first).

F – Favourite position

Richie wants to see. He wants to see his cock sinking into you. He wants to see your face when you come. He wants to see the rise and fall of your chest and he wants to see his hands on your body. Richie also wants to bend you over and fuck you from behind. He likes how it makes you whine when he pulls your hips back as he fucks into you.

So he fucks you on your knees in front of the mirror on his bedroom wall, drags his fingers through your gathered slick and rubs the mess across your tight little asshole, his thumb circling and circling and circling before pushing inside. Like this he can watch as he fills you up, and see your fucked-out face as you fall apart.

G — Goofy

Our Richie is a big goofball in every aspect of his life and sex is no exception. He loves being able to laugh with you and tease you while he’s inside you or eating you out. One day he gets it in is mind that you have to call him Mr. Jerimovich as like a demeaning/authoritative thing, but when you actually call him that, he cracks up laughing. Cannot keep a straight face for the life of him. “It sounds like you’re talkin’ to my fuckin’ granddad. Too fuckin’ weird for me, baby, m’sorry.”

If he’s had a rough day, though, and needs to take it out on you, it’s all serious. No jokes, no laughing, no teasing. He just takes when he needs from you — and of course makes sure you have a good time, too.

H – Hair

How well groomed is Richie? Richie is a low-maintenance, one-bottle-in-the-shower guy. He keeps his hair and his beard short, that’s his look. Once upon a time, he got clippers and a beard trimmer for Christmas, so he does this himself, and every so often the rest of him will get the trimmer treatment. He’s not super hairy but he likes how his dick looks bigger after. He’s only human, after all.

He’s clean, but not meticulous. He doesn’t mind things getting a bit.. dirty. And if you’re honest with yourself, you sometimes like him best at the end of a long day. A little sweaty, a little rough around the edges, his skin tasting like salt and cigarette smoke.

I — Intimacy

Richie the cuddle master, am I right? He loves physical affection and just being close to you. If you’re having a slow, sweet love session, he’ll hold your face and tell you the stickiest sweet things you’ve ever heard in your life. “You were made for me, baby. I was made f’you” and “You’re so beautiful, sometimes I can’t believe you’re mine” and “I love you so much my heart fuckin’ hurts.” Loves eye contact, loves holding your hands, loves loving you basically.

Talks you through it. Big time. He’s in his daddy era and he’s desperate for his baby to cum. 🥵

J – Jerk off

In a word. Yes. In the shower most mornings. It’s a Pavlovian response now. Routine. The hot shower spray. The steam. His hand wrapped round his cock.

But he’s seen the way your breath catches. When he’s knelt between your spread legs. When he drags it out just a little longer, his fist working over his cock as though he prefers it to your pretty pussy. How your eyes follow the movement of his hand as he makes you wait, how your tongue darts out against the softness of your lips..

Until finally - - You like watchin, huh? Your face had heated under his scrutiny, but you couldn’t deny it. And since then? Pictures. Videos. Whenever you’re apart for while and sometimes even when you’re not. His hand sliding over his hard dick, slow at first, then faster. You can hear his breathing, all the bitten off sounds he makes - - fuck. Sometimes it’s a piece of your underwear that he’s ruined, the sheets, his shirt. Sometimes come splashes hot against his tense belly. It’s insanely hot. It makes you ache for him. And he knows it.

K — Kinks

This man will shock you with just how freaky he can get. Choking, gun play, knife play, slapping, daddy/sir, tying you up/getting tied up, he’s into it all. Something you’ve always wanted to try? He’s down. It doesn’t always have to be super kinky stuff, though. Sometimes he’s in the mood to make love to you and, when he is, he’s the stickiest sweet lover you’ve ever had.

Once he discovers the the free use concept, it’s his favorite. “Don’t let me stop ya, baby. You keep workin’ on that,” while he proceeds to fuck you into a different universe. 🥵

L – Location

Anywhere. At the restaurant when everyone else has gone home (that reservations desk is his in more ways than anyone else knows). In his car, where there’s just enough room for you to straddle his lap in the driver’s seat. Up against the wall in some dark corner when he just can’t wait. On the couch, forgotten movie in the background. The kitchen counter in the middle of a lazy weekend breakfast. In the shower, the pretty noises you make bouncing off the tiles. In your bed. In his bed.

That’s probably his favourite. His bed. When you’re waiting for him at the end of a long day in his bed. Wearing his shirt. Your perfume on his pillows.

M — Motivation

YOU. Richie is such a romantic at heart and, if you’re his, he wants nothing more than to make you happy any way he can. He loves to hear you whine and moan for him or squirm under his touch. Part of him selfishly loves knowing he can make you feel better than anyone else ever has. He loves making you forget all your worries with his fingers or his mouth or his cock. He gets off just by knowing how satisfied he can make you.

N – No

It’s a short list, but anything you’re not into is at the top of it. You can also add to that anything too elaborate. Role play’s fine just nothing too fuckin weird alright.And he doesn’t need a red room of sex shit, doesn’t need whips and chains when his tie looks so pretty around your wrists, when his belt drags so nicely against your skin.

O — Oral

You mean Richie “could eat pussy for three meals a day” Jerimovich?? He LOVES oral. As much as he loves feeling your lips wrapped around him, he loves feeling you squirm under his tongue even more. He’ll have you pinned down with his arms begging him for a break at any chance he gets. Giving is his favorite, but he loves receiving, too.

He loves when you give him road head. Loves it. Only when it's late at night and you're alone on the back roads, though. He knows just what you're thinking when you reach a hand over coyly and scratch your nails along his thigh. A silly grin spreads across his face and he gives you a subtle nod to encourage you. By the end he's usually pulled over somewhere with both hands in your hair and a plan in place for when you get home...

P – Pace

He can go slow. If that’s what you need. He likes how he can feel everything when he takes his time, but it wears away at his self control and he didn’t have much to begin with. You like to ride him, achingly slowly, stretching his restraint as far as it’ll go before it snaps, before he grips your hips and fucks up into you, or until he flips you over and fucks you through the bed.

Q — Quickie

Are you kidding me? Richie loves quickies. Possibly his favorite thing in the world. Just finished dinner service? He’ll fuck you in the alleyway. Popped in to say hi while you’re running errands? He’ll bend you over Carmy’s desk. Even just going about your day at home he’ll come up behind you in the kitchen and pull you up onto the counter. Any chance he has to get you off he’ll take.

R – Risk

Is Richie a risk taker? Yeah. He gets a kick out of the possibility that the two of you might get caught. Actually no, he gets a kick out of you getting so fucking greedy and needy for him that you’ll let him touch you, let him fuck you, where anyone might see. His hand between your legs under the restaurant table, his mouth on your breasts in the cool evening air, your back against the wall and legs round his waist, your body pressed to the high rise window of the nicest hotel room he could afford. It fuels his possessiveness. You’re his and he wants everyone to know it.

S — Stamina

Richie isn’t as young as he used to be, but he uses what energy he has wisely. In his younger days he could go at it for hours, but nowadays his poor achey back can’t take more than one, maybe two rounds. He gets you off more times than you can count before he even thinks about fucking you, so don’t let his old age scare you.

Just because his body gets tired faster doesn't mean his sex drive has gone down, though, so don't you worry about that.

T – Toys

The first time Richie caught you with your favourite toy, he’d watched from the doorway with a dangerous mix of jealousy and want. You’d pulled the toy from your body when you saw him, but he’d shook his head and something in the look in his eyes made your mouth go dry and your stuttered explanation die in your throat. – - Don’t stop. He’d climbed onto the bed, sat back against the headboard and pulled you to his chest between his spread legs. - - keep going.. s’it feel good? .. feel better than me, huh? - - you’d said no, but he’d slapped your hand from the toy anyway, taking it from you and mimicking the movements he’d watched earlier, but harder, faster, more him. And he’d liked the way you’d surrendered control so easily, the way your head fell back against his shoulder, how your fingers twisted into the fabric of his sweats. And it occurred to him that he could keep this up for hours..

U — Unfair

Richie is a little shit… of course he loves teasing you. He’ll send you dirty texts all day while you’re at work and get you all hot and bothered. Then he’ll edge you for what feels like hours if he feels like it. He always leaves you satisfied after his fun, though, he is a gentleman after all.

When he first discovered what his "harmless" teasing does to you... Oh man. It's like he can't stop now. He'll pull you into the office at work just to whisper dirty things in your ear.

"You look real pretty tonight baby," He leans in to kiss your neck, hands wandering all over your body, "Fuuuck, you want daddy to take care of you, hm? Touch you? Make you scream so everybody knows who you belong to, yeah?" Swoon.

V – Volume

Richie has the dirtiest mouth in all of Chicago. He remembers the first time he’d called you his good fuckin girl. He remembers because you came hard and tight and wet before the words had barely left his mouth. Now he won’t fucking shut up. And you love it like that. But the best thing? There’s this noise he makes when he’s close to losing it. A filthy low groan as everything begins to unravel. It might be the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.

W — Wildcard

Richie definitely has a thing for public sex. The thrill of potentially getting caught, having to show off his pretty baby to whoever catches you… He can’t help it if he wants to show you off and make it clear just who belong to.

X – x-ray

What’s going on in those tighty whiteys? He’s not gotten any complaints. Well, no, that’s not quite right. He’s gotten loads of complaints. Just not about his dick. If he was the type of guy to be heading down the gym (although lets face it, he isn’t ) he wouldn’t need to be shy in the locker room, if you catch my meaning. Alright, alright.. it’s big. You happy now?

Y — Yearning

He may be in his 40s but his sex drive is stronger than ever. He always wants you. Richie is just insatiable sometimes. It’s like he can’t believe you are his to take care of and please whenever he wants to and he does.

Z – zzzz

He’s not even stayed awake long enough for you to read the end of this. Sorry. But let’s be fair, he’s a hard working guy and he’s had his fair share of sleepless nights. So you can’t begrudge the fact that he sleeps like an angel (an angel splayed across 75% of the bed, but still..) once you’ve both had your fill. Now roll him over before he starts snoring.

#richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #kdogreads #richie jerimovich smut #richie x reader #the bear fic #the bear smut #the bear fx #richie jerimovich fic #reader insert

[mrsjellymunson]

S.A.N.T.A. BABY

[A.KA. Stupid And Nasty Tinsel-Related Activities]

A Festive 5+1 Eddie Munson Fic

Summary: 5+1. Five times reader embarrasses herself in front of Eddie, and one time she doesn’t.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

WC: ~10.5k (oops)

CW: 🔞 18+ MDNI!, SMUT, NSFW. Strangers to sort-of-enemies to lovers. Drinking, smoking, Eddie and reader call each other nicknames, loads of embarrassing situations, swearing, suggestive language, implied birth control, description of and discussion about a sex toy, flagrant and unnecessary use of the number 69, reader has a tattoo but it’s not essential to the story so you can ignore it if you want, bondage fantasy involving fairy lights, lap riding/dry humping, Eddie has tattoos and intimate piercings, fingering, unprotected p-in-v (always wrap it irl!), aftercare, fluff, the Upside Down hasn’t happened. I imagine reader & Eddie to be mid-late 20s and it might be the 90s, but hopefully I left it ambiguous enough that you can choose. I tried to keep reader’s appearance neutral, though I’m still new at this and I may have missed things - let me know if you spot anything (likewise typos or missed tags, etc). The elf outfit in the pic is for costume illustration only and does not indicate reader’s ethnicity or appearance.

A/N: Written for @bettyfrommars’ & @allthingsjoeq’s festive prompt party (thank you, guys!); I decided to smoosh five prompts 6, 8, 12, 14 & 15 together to create… whateverthehellthismutantthingis 😆 It’s my first 5+1, and my first festive fic, please let me know how I did! 🎄 I’ve taken artistic license with the format - if I’ve understood it, it’s way too long for a standard 5+1, and I don’t think they usually have 4+k of unnecessary smut at the end (‘What do you mean, Kittie? Smut is always necessary!’). I couldn’t bring myself to cut it because I’m a deviant and to paraphrase the song, it’s my fic and I’ll add what I want to 😂 Enjoy! 🥂🍷🎁

Christmas was never your favourite time of year. You suppose that your early Christmasses were probably happy, but once your parents split and family politics came into play, the season just became less enjoyable all round. These days your mom and stepdad tended to use the extended break to visit your brother in California, and this year will be the third in a row that you’ve been left to your own devices. Not that you couldn’t go with them, but you just felt a little out of place and in the way, him with his scrapbook-perfect family and kids, you with your alternative interests and a dress sense that your stepdad once described as, “Far too much black for a family dinner. We’re not the Addams Family, you know”.

This year, though, you were optimistic. It’s your first year away at college in Indianapolis, and your roommate, Robin, who you get on outrageously well with, has invited you to spend the holidays not too far away in her home town, Hawkins.

Plus, Robin has taken it upon herself to, in her words, ‘“Christmas Carol the shit out of you”, after you’d told her about your disdain for the holiday season and that Santa stood for ‘Stupid And Nasty Tinsel-related Activities’. She’d declared that this year you’d have the “Best. Christmas. EVERRR!”, and she’s making good on it, despite the promise being made months ago when you were both soaked in tequila at the end of orientation week.

It’s going fairly well so far. You’ve met a couple of Robin’s friends, a nice girl called Nancy and Robin’s ex Vickie, and together you’ve had a shopping trip, a lunch out and a girls’ night in. You’re optimistic that the rest of her friends will be just as friendly and welcoming. Next on the ‘Best Christmas Ever’ agenda? Seeing a local band at a local bar…

“Honestly, they’re, like, really, really good!”

“Really, Robs? This band that your friends started in high school are so good that they’re still playing dive bars in their home town?”

The bar is dingy and grubby, but it’s packed, Robin insisting it’s because the band is great, but you suspect it has more to do with the cheap beer prices.

You’re not averse to live entertainment, you just prefer places with a bit more space. More ambience, less… sweat? Ambiguous stickiness??

Half a beer in, you make the excuse that you need some air, not admitting you’re actually hoping to find someone to bum a cigarette off outside, feeling your most recent attempt at quitting is already on seriously shaky ground.

There’s already a couple of guys around the side of the building when you exit the front door, one in a torn flannel and another, his back to you, in a heavier-looking jacket.

You recognise Flannel as the bartender, a lanky, but not unattractive, somewhat worried-looking guy with a grungy haircut and ripped Clash t-shirt, who’s just finishing his cigarette and flicking it to the floor. As he leaves to go back inside he offers a cheery half-salute to his smoking partner and a, “See you inside, dude.” You assume the other guy must be a regular, and from the subtle glimpses you get as he flicks his ash, he’s about halfway through his cigarette.

Whilst he’s not looking you sneakily take in the view (your excuse being that you are a tourist here, after all). He’s tall, dressed all in black, with broad shoulders draped in worn-in black leather, long dark curls falling about them. You can’t determine the exact colour in the poor lighting of the bar’s neon sign, but they look shiny and well cared for, rather than lank and grimy like so many of your college buddies seem to think is the fashionable way to do it these days (ugh).

Trailing your eyes down his back, you see the hem of his jacket half-obscures a black leather belt that’s just visible sitting on his slim hips. It’s studded with silver rivets and adorned with a variety of draping silver chains that jingle at the slightest movement.

Well-fitting, dark black jeans cover his legs, and a scruffy pair of heavy black combat boots complete the look. They're unlaced at the top and casually flare out, his jeans crumpling, effortlessly stylishly, in the tops.

The belt chains catch your attention again as he shifts from one foot to the other, making them swing, drawing your eyes to the seat of his jeans and showcasing a cute, tight, rounded pair of butto-oh! He’s turning around! Shit, shit, okay, be cool, and definitely don’t look like you were just checking out his ass…

He looks at you with surprise, he obviously hadn’t heard you come out. He’s taken slightly aback, but manages to greet you with a quick, “Hey.”

You reply, eloquently, “Hey.”

Smooth.

Leather Jacket gets out his lighter.

“You, uh, smokin’?”

“I was kinda hoping to bum one, actually. I’m supposed to be quitting, but you know how it is when you get around bars and booze.”

You shrug a little, suddenly feeling sheepish, and more than a little selfish when you realise your presumption.

“Oh yeah, I sure do. Think I’ve tried quitting about, what, five times now?”

He chuckles a little, shaking a stick out of the packet he retrieves from inside his jacket, offering it to you.

“You need a light?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, thanks.”

He leans in to spark his lighter, and you’re briefly engulfed by the scent of him. Old leather, hints of a musky, spicy cologne, whiskey, clean sweat, and, of course, cigarette smoke. It feels like a warm hug, but something else too, something more primal, enticing.

You notice his hands as he holds his lighter close to your face. They’re big, strong-looking and veined, his fingers adorned with chunky silver rings that glint and twinkle in the faint neon glow.

It all catches you off guard. You pull back quickly once your cigarette is lit, not ready to explore that kind of sensation right now.

He’s turned sideways to you again, leaning his back against the side wall of the bar. He smirks in your direction, a dimple popping in the cheek nearest to you, and you feel a little heat rise up your neck.

His gaze flows over your form, taking you in from top to bottom. Is he checking you out?

“I, uh, I like your boots.” He nods down towards your feet, flicking a little ash from his cigarette off to the side furthest from you.

You automatically glance down, like some kind of idiot who didn’t dress themselves less than an hour ago.

Sheesh, way to make an impression on the locals…

“Oh, thanks!”

You smile, genuinely pleased. You’re wearing your favourite pair, laced and buckled black leather New Rocks with a chunky, steel-coloured metal heel. You know the style doesn’t have universal appeal, which is of course part of the reason you love them, but it’s nice to have your taste appreciated by someone as cu- erm, as friendly as he is.

“I haven’t seen you around here before. You new in town or sumthin’?”

“Yeah, kinda passing through, I guess. I’m just here for the holidays, hookin’ up with a friend.”

He nods in acknowledgment, curls bouncing softly around his face.

You continue, “Apparently I’ve been promised the ‘best Christmas ever’, and they think they’re going to achieve that by bringing me to this divey bar to see some schoolfriend in a lame-ass metal cover band. I mean, god, no offence, but this town is hardly Seattle. I can’t imagine they’re gonna be Nirvana-quality, right?”

The guy snorts through his nose and then genuinely laughs. “Yeah, they probably are shit. Towns like this are full of wannabe rockstars straight outta high school, y’know?” You don’t notice how his lips purse as he suppresses a grin, as he continues, “Singers are the worst, always such assholes. Second only to guitarists, of course.”

You answer with an enthusiastic, “I know, right?!”, thinking back to the musicians you’ve dated since high school and how they were all convinced they were destined to be the next Eddie Van Halen or Steven Tyler. Thinking of a couple of guys in particular as you take a drag of your cigarette, as you exhale you mutter, “Christ, guitarists really are the pits.”

He snorts, smiling again, then drops his finished cigarette to the ground, crushing it out with the sole of his heavy boot. “At least with all their equipment and shit it makes them easy to spot.”

You gift him a smile and a small nod. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

“I’m heading back inside. Maybe I’ll see you later?” He quirks an eyebrow at his last comment.

“Yeah, maybe.” As he moves to open the door you add, ”Hey, thanks for the smoke!”

He turns back to you, his distractingly broad grin now fully on display, half-shouting back as he moves through the doorway into the bustling interior, “No problem, all you have to do is ask. I’ll see you later, Boots!”

You finish your smoke and get inside just in time to get to your seat, a tall stool opposite Robin around a high table, your back to the stage, as the band start up.

There’s a few complicated beats from the drums as the guy behind them warms up, and the bass and rhythm guitars thrum a few notes, garnering whistles and cheers from the crowd.

You wait for the cliché of the singer coming up to the mic and introducing the band, but what you actually hear is a low, self-assured, somewhat recognisable voice, that’s both commanding and sultry, that drawls, “You know who we are.”

Suddenly there’s a burst of impressive guitar work and drums, and the crowd erupts as the room is saturated with the opening chords to Black Sabbath’s ‘War Pigs’.

You’re impressed, and intrigued. This isn’t the ‘dodgy 80’s covers schoolkid band’ you were expecting. These guys sound… accomplished.

You turn on your stool, and notice a subtly familiar form at the mic. Less bulky as he’s no longer wearing the leather jacket, a ripped band tee now showing off his pale arms and clavicles, and black ink that you can’t make out adorning solid biceps and veined forearms. Guitar in hand, confident, brash, cute. Chains dangling from a studded belt, silver rings glinting, hair flying as he flicks his head, commanding the stage, readying himself to sing the first lines…

Oh shit…

The band’s cover of ‘War Pigs’ is faster than the original, and they give it their own twist, making it heavier and grittier. After the (irritatingly brilliant) guitar solo Leather Jacket Band Guy even throws in a few lines from Deck The Halls, the audience going wild, and joining in enthusiastically when the ‘Oh Lord yeah’ is replaced with a ‘Fa-la-la’.

The rest of their set is a mix of covers and originals, all in a similar, heavy style, and as they finish to a rapturous throng you realise, flustered, that you couldn’t tear your eyes from the stage the whole time. Robin totally notices. You even let her get in a cheery, “Told ya so!”, as you reluctantly admit they weren’t completely terrible.

You spot the frontman (singer and guitarist, cue internal facepalm) jump down off the low stage, and you feel a little uneasy as you see him start heading in your direction.

You’re at peak embarrassment and can’t bear the thought of having to face him after what you said outside. You hadn’t even heard them play and you dissed the fuck out of them, him specifically. What makes it worse is that they were actually really good. The last thing you need is to have that thrown back in your face, in front of Robin, by their cocky lead guy.

Suddenly you want Spontaneous Human Combustion to be a real thing, turn you to ash so your only presence would be scuffed up on those heavy, unlaced combat boots, going unnoticed and carried out on everyone’s soles into the chilly night. But science and physics are apparently not willing to defy themselves for you this evening. Bastards.

Quickly, you get off your stool, mumbling something about needing the bathroom, and head off in a random direction, in your haste to escape not even asking where it is.

You chance a glance over one shoulder. Oh god, he’s heading straight for you…

As you stumble about in the crowd, you notice a free seat next to a guy at the bar. You hardly register that his coiffed hair and polo shirt don’t quite fit the vibe of the place, so desperate are you to build an alternative narrative that doesn’t involve the guy whose band you just dissed coming to talk to you. You’d said you were visiting a friend, he’s not to know it wasn’t a boyfriend, right? If he sees you with someone he’ll back off and leave you alone, right?? Surely he wouldn’t confront you with a potential Defending Your Honour™️ fight on the table. Right???

So, that’s the plan.

A really good, foolproof one? Um, no. But Band Guy is moving through the crowd, and you’ve gotta do something, fast.

You reach the bar.

“Hey, could you do me a favour real quick? A creepy guy’s been hitting on me, and I need to give him the message that I’m not interested. If I buy you a drink, will you act like you’re my boyfriend for, like, the next 30 seconds?”

He turns to you, and you notice his features. Golden skin, chiselled jaw, stunning hazel eyes, hair to rival the hottest supermodels’, a scattering of moles that look like constellations. Goddamn, he’s pretty. What is it with this bar? Is everyone inside it cute? Why have you never been to Hawkins before??

You give him a pleading look, and tentatively hold out one hand towards where his is resting on his thigh, hoping he’ll take it.

“Well, for a sweet thing like you, how could I say no to that tempting double offer?”

He smiles then, full and beaming, and you almost slip off your stool. A warm palm comes to cup over yours, and you manage to blurt out an order to the barman, saying, “Two of whatever he’s having.”

Just then, Band Guy reaches you. You do your best to swoon at Polo Shirt as your drinks get delivered, lifting yours and clinking it against his with a, “Hey, sweetheart, thanks for bringing me here”.

“Oh, I didn’t realise you were here with someone tonight.”

“Yeah, this is the friend I was telling you about. We’re spending the holidays together. Isn’t that right, sweets?”

Band Guy purses his lips, you hope in consternation, but it’s whatever, you just want him to leave you alone to stew in your mortification.

He backs up half a step, saying, “Well, I guess I’ll leave you to it then.”

Success!

Just as you think your devious plan has worked, Band Guy turns to Polo Shirt, slaps his open palm against his shoulder a couple of times, and saunters off, with a, “Nice to see you, Steve-o. Just checkin’ you're wanting a lift back in the van with the guys, like usual?”

Oh. Oh god. They know each other?!

He turns away, smirking back briefly in your direction to fling a casual, “I’ll see you around, Boots”, before continuing his path to the other end of the bar. You see him greet Flannel with a high five followed by a bro handshake, the latter making exaggerated air guitar movements and clearly congratulating him on a great performance.

If cringing caused bodily trauma you’d be in the ER by now, most likely on life support. What are the chances of embarrassing yourself all to hell in front of a cute guy you’ve only just met, twice in one night?

Also, wait, you totally didn’t just admit that you find him cute. Nope. No siree. Nah. Niet. Definitely not.

Stupid Robin convinced you to take this stupid job in the stupid mall and now you’re stuck here smiling this stupid smile at all the stupid local kids in this stupid elf costume.

Stupid striped tights, stupid short skirt, stupid tight green tunic, stupid fluffy collar.

And yeah, okay, stupid self-induced hangover from stupid drinks last night thanks to stupid Robin’s stupid friends. Actually, they were all really nice, especially ‘Steve-o’ and the barman, Jonathon, neither of whom mentioned your embarrassing faux pas with Band Guy, which makes them total heroes in your book. Plus, Band Guy mercifully gave you a wide berth for the rest of the night by doing Band Stuff™️, so that was a win too.

At least the dress code for this gig stated ‘black footwear’, so you could wear your own boots. You’d never admit it out loud, but you think the combination of the red and white striped tights with your chunky, alternative boots actually looks kinda cute. It’s just as well, because you’d packed light (you and Robin joking that so long as you had your ”Pills and panties” you were good to go), and hadn’t brought any alternatives.

You’ve been at this for a couple of days already, beaming artificially at the kids as you try to corral them into some semblance of an organised line, and handing out stickers and treat bags for the ones who’ve seen Santa, putting your best singsong voice on as you ask for what feels like the millionth time, “So, what did you ask Santa for?”, and, “Have you been good this year?”

Your face has begun to ache with the effort of all the smiling, although the cheery mall Santa (a big, friendly guy called John? Jack?) takes up most of the slack, with a voice deep and gravelly enough to control even the worst-behaved little shits. You hope his day job uses it, it would be a shame for a voice like that to go to waste. He should probably be in sports, or acting, or law enforcement or something.

You can’t deny the money is coming in handy though. It’s reliably supporting your holiday booze habit, and you’ve even treated yourself to a couple of Christmas treats, some silver skull jewellery from a surprisingly well-stocked accessory shop, and something more, um, personal from the ‘specialist interest’ shop you’d found hidden away at the back of the mall’s upper level. The nice lady who worked there, Karen, even kindly offered to drop off your purchase at your staff locker later today.

You’re on the later shift, so Santa’s already here, and as you make your way out to the grotto area (which is essentially just a few old stage props surrounded by a few giant polystyrene candy canes; you surmise this might be one of the first years they’ve done this) you’re greeted by a predictable, “Ho ho ho!”. But today it’s a different voice than usual. Still deep, still booming, but not the one you’re used to.

As you round the glittery candy cane on the corner, the deep baritone gives way to a much higher, cheekier pitch.

“Ho, ho- hoooooly shiiit, I’d recognise those boots anywhere!”

Oh no… It can’t be…

“Heeey, Boots! I didn’t know you’d be one of my little helpers today!”

Even behind the fake beard you can see the smugness spread across his face.

You stop in your tracks, hands coming up to your face in a vain attempt to shield your embarrassed self from the impending, and, you’ll admit, completely justified, teasing.

Realising you can’t hide from it, you huff out a breath and amble over to him. He looks way too comfortable sitting on that ornate throne, like he’s used to such a position, somehow…

As you move closer you see that even beneath the tacky acrylic costuming, he still looks cute (damn him). He’s foregone the white wig and opted to display his own locks, chestnut curls cascading over his shoulders, and the white faux fur of his hat and beard create a subtle frame around his eyes. You observe their colour properly for the first time, and even in the harsh fluorescent lights of the mall they look like swirling pools of liquid cacao, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen anything quite like them before. They’re fixed on you as you walk to him.

You plonk down on a fabric-covered hay bale next to the throne. There’s no line of kids waiting as yet, and you’re relieved you can get this next part done without too much of an audience. Deep breath, pull off the bandaid, or whatever that stupid phrase is.

“Listen, about last night. I’m really sorry. I not only stole your smokes but also dissed your band before I’d even heard you, and that wasn’t cool. And that thing with Steve at the bar? God, you must think I’m such a loser. And, I know you probably couldn’t give two pebbly shits about what I think right now, but you guys are actually really good.”

He turns to you, looking down his nose and through his lashes at you.

“Hey, don’t sweat it, sweets. I did kinda bait you into that first part. And at the bar? That was… creative. I actually thought it was pretty funny.” Smirking, nodding and turning his face to the front again, he continues, “And for the record, we do play other places, not just this so-not-Seattle town.”

You risk a glance at him. The Santa suit is obviously too big for him, the collar wide enough to show off his pale throat for a moment before he turns back to you and the comically-fluffy beard obscures it again. You can see the outline of his taut, muscular thighs under the loose faux velvet of his pants, and his boots (those boots) are worn just like they were last night, unlaced at the top, casually stylish, the red fabric pooling around the calf and ankle. And to finish it off, there’s what appears to be a large throw cushion stuffed down his front.

It turns out he’s covering for (Jim!) Hopper, who’s apparently the local police chief (nailed it) and has been called out to check on some weird occurrences at an old research facility on the other side of town.

Band Guy Santa continues, sarcastically, “Pfft. Providing the town of Hawkins with security and safety instead of performing the frankly, essential, public service of dicking about in a Santa suit. Inconsiderate, right?”

“Yeah, totally”, you giggle.

“The organisers heard from Hop that I was somewhat… theatrical, so they asked me to fill in.”

You remember how theatrical he looked whilst on stage, and you feel your throat heat up, hoping he won’t notice you subtly pulling at your collar with a finger, or see the perspiration appearing on your décolletage.

“So, you may wreak your revenge now, sweetheart. I’m not exactly in a position to defend my sartorial choices right now, am I?”, he says as he gestures to himself, sweeping a palm up and down his garb. “Gimme your worst.”

You’d feel pretty bad if you laid into him now, not only considering your own current garb but especially with what you’d said last night outside the bar. However, he is giving you an opportunity to even the score for his manipulation, and it would be a shame not to take it. You decide upon a combination of cheekiness and diplomacy. (And not flirty. Definitely not flirty.)

“I dunno, that beard covers most of your face, which obviously does you some favours. But don’t do yourself down, you look… good in red.”

He swallows as you stand to move away from him, and you hardly realise that you’ve rendered him speechless, as you joke, poking at the obvious cushion by his middle,

“Although, I’m totally not buying this padding, you know,”

Suddenly a party of schoolchildren appears from nowhere, and before they get between you and you get too far away to hear, he stammers out, “Uh, I’m Eddie, by the way.”

You half-yell your own name back, adding with a smile,

“It’s nice to meet you. Have fun today, Santa.”

It’s late afternoon and Santa Eddie is on his regulation break. You’re doing your best to herd the over-sugared, post-school crowd into some kind of order, when Mrs Santa (a lovely lady called Claudia) calls your name and says you can go on your break now too, if you want, and to please tell Santa that he needs to get back here and start doling out Christmas wishes.

You jump at the chance for even just a few minutes away from the diminutive hoards (though you could listen to Erica, one kid you do like, diss commercialism and the ethics of lying to kids en masse all afternoon), and make your way to the locker room.

Eddie’s still there, sitting on the central bench, beard pulled down under his chin, and he appears to be holding a package in his hands, though from the look on his face you don’t think it was one he was expecting. As you move closer and peer into the box, you spy the contents, and a bright red, glittery shape becomes visible.

Oh god, no. No-no-noooo…

It’s the order you placed from the shop at the back of the mall, but Karen’s obviously dropped it off next to the wrong locker - Eddie’s is number 69 and yours is 96.

It’s a dildo (of course it is). A Christmas-themed, flexible, long, thick, glittery, red dildo, with a gold lamé ribbon tied artfully around the base.

Eddie’s face is a picture of surprise as he turns to look up at you, eyes and mouth wide and eyebrows practically disappearing into his hairline. He’s holding the packaging, your name visible on the wrapping, nixing any hope you’d had of feigning innocence and pretending you knew nothing about it.

“Uh, I think this is yours. I’m so sorry. I-it was left by my locker and I opened it assuming it was for me, and then I saw your name on it, but by then it was too late…”

He sees you slump down into the bench a few feet away from him, face in your hands. You don’t know him well, but you decide to let him get whatever he wants to say out of his system rather than potentially make everything worse by trying to get him to shut the hell up.

His tone is mocking, but not exactly mean, as he continues,

“It’s a pretty one, really. Y’know, festive. I admire your choice of aesthetics and commitment to the season.

But you know, Boots, if you wanted to feel special inside this Christmas, all you had to do was ask.

Wait, do you also have an Easter-themed one? Is it a rabbit?”

He’s turned to face you now, far too pleased with himself for that final quip. Arrogant bastard.

The tears come in a wave, and you fold in on yourself, trying to hide your face even more. The heat in your cheeks feels about the same temperature as the colour of that fucking dildo.

“Hey, hey. I was only kidding.” He scootches closer to you on the bench. ”Look, there’s nothing wrong with it. Everyone deserves pleasure, it’s healthy. And I get it, Boots, it can be hard for girls to find a guy who actually knows what the fuck they’re doing. And, maybe you don’t even want or need a guy, you just want some special time by yourself, right?”

There’s a short pause, like he could be considering his next choice of words.

“And anyway, I actually think it’s kinda hot…”

This surprises you. You’ve never met any guy who didn’t take the presence of your toy collection as a personal insult.

You risk a glance in his direction, hoping your wet and stinging eyes don’t look as red as they feel. “You really think so?”

“Oh yeah”, he responds, crossing his legs as subtly as he can, shielding his lap. “The one you chose? It’s… sophisticated. The glitter gives it a real nice touch. And,” he drops his voice a little, continuing in an almost-whisper, “I’d love to see what you do with it.” He clears his throat and looks away, finding a convenient patch of plain wall to focus his gaze upon.

Confused, upset, and unable to fathom exactly what’s going on (is this just banter? Or is he flirting? Wait, does he like you??) you grab the box from him and move to stuff it in your locker. Trying to hide the crack in your voice, you call over your shoulder, “Claudia says your break’s over and to get your jolly ass back out there, pronto.”

Oh shit… shitshitSHIT…

Stupid collar, stupid faux fur, stupid cheap zips! Goddammit!

You’re at your locker - the one that should’ve secretly contained your special Xmas gift to yourself - trying to get out of your stupid elf costume, but the zip won’t budge. The top of it is enmeshed amongst the stupid faux fur of your collar, and your frustrated, unsighted and fumbling ministrations appear to be making it worse.

You need help. An empathic soul to come to your aid and diligently untangle you from this costuming hell. But there’s only one other person here, and, even though your last encounter ended better than it could have, he’s still the last person you want to see right now.

Why tonight? Of all nights? How could this happen on the one night where the literal only person left in the entire fucking building is him??

You can only assume you’re on the real Santa’s shit list. Were you really that naughty this year?

Your brain rewards you with a brief, but telling, synopsis of your year so far: smoking blunts behind the library with Robin during study breaks, skinny dipping in a freezing lake on a dare, all that tequila, that brief foray in the back of a Camaro with that guy (Bobby? Billy?). Okay, you were no saint, but this? Come on…

Dejectedly, you drop your chin to your chest and let out a frustrated huff.

Looking miserable, and literally dragging your heels, you shuffle back out to the grotto, steeling yourself for whatever mocking banter Eddie will subject you to this time.

He’s leisurely rearranging the grotto area, and fiddling with the fairy lights behind.

“Hey, Boots. What’re you still doing here?”

Still not looking up, and flicking your eyes everywhere but in his direction, you mumble,

“I, uh, I need your help.”

“What is it? C’mon, you can tell me. We’re quite intimately acquainted now, wouldn’t you say?“

You can hear the smirk in his voice and you want to slap it right off his face. Your response comes out in a rush.

“MyzipisstuckandIcan’tgetoutofthisfuckingcostume, okay?”

“Well, honestly, if you want me to undress you, all you have to do is ask…”

There’s annoyance in your voice as you spit out, “For fuck’s sake Eddie, are you gonna help me or not?”

“Of course, Boots, I’m just messin’ with ya.” His voice drops to an almost-rumble as he instructs, “Turn around for me, yeah?”

His voice is commanding, yet soft and velvety. Parts of your brain turn to marshmallow, and you consider that you’d do almost anything he asked, if he asked you like that.

You do as he requests, your back facing him. You tilt your head down slightly, allowing him better access to the top of the zip, inadvertently also exposing the back of your neck.

He exhales (is it a bit shaky?), and you feel the heat of his breath on your nape, the sensation raising goosebumps along your spine and worrying your legs a little. It’s all you can do to not drop to your knees right there and then. You let out a tiny gasp and try to cover it with a deep swallow.

Eddie works gently on the collar of your garment, fiddling with the fur and disentangling what he can. As he works you continue to feel his breath on your neck, and you wonder if he has any idea what it’s doing to you.

Seemingly satisfied he won’t make it any worse than it already is, Eddie grasps the tag with his fingertips and places the palm of his other hand on your shoulder blade, the heat of it radiating through you so intensely that you have to scrunch your eyes closed and try to ground yourself.

With a quiet, “You ready?”, Eddie begins to slowly lower the zip.

It dislodges under his delicate touch, and although the zip is now completely free-moving he continues to pull it downwards ever so slowly. You feel another frisson of excitement, and even though you could at this stage probably quite easily take over and get out of the garment yourself, you don’t move away.

As the opening reaches your shoulder blades, you feel something else. It’s featherlight, barely there, but you think you can feel the knuckle of one of Eddie’s bent fingers brushing the skin of your back as he pulls the zipper slowly downwards.

Part of you thinks you should be freaked, after all an almost-complete stranger is touching you without your consent, but somehow it doesn’t feel weird. It feels… nice. Safe. Right.

The lower the zip goes the more of Eddie’s breath you feel on your back, and as the sides separate the edges of the colourful tattoo on your shoulder blade become visible.

Eddie's breath stutters at the sight, and as his knuckle passes over your bra strap and connects again with your lower spine you abruptly shake yourself out of your reverie.

Clutching the front of your tunic to your body, you move quickly away from him, stumbling back towards the locker room and mumbling, “I’ll take it from here. Thanks Eddie, you’re a lifesaver.”

Plonking yourself down on the bench in front of your open locker, you take a few deep breaths, trying to centre yourself before you get changed and wondering how on earth you’re going to be able to face him again tomorrow, the (yes, you’ll admit it now) hottest Santa you’ve ever seen...

Back in your own clothes (black, wide-gauge fishnets, an old tee from a punk band that no longer exists, and a flared black skirt - much better) you’re about to scurry out with your head down when you hear muffled grunts and groans from the main floor. What on earth is going on out there?

You amble back out to the grotto area, trying to appear nonchalant and like this is your usual route out of the building.

You see Eddie’s combat boots sticking out from behind a pile of fake snowballs. They seem to be twitching.

You move closer until you can see his entire form. He’s lying on his back, immobile, completely tangled in fairy lights. You can’t help but start to giggle, not least because for the first time since meeting him it’s he who’s the one in a compromising position.

He’s struggling, likely making it worse, and he starts as he sees you, barking out, “Oh god, Boots, you scared me! Well, laugh it up, fuzzball, I guess it’s your turn to rag on me now.”

“What on earth happened? Are you hurt?”

“I said I’d help rearrange these lights, so I was up that ladder, moving them around, when the rung gave way. The lights were the only thing I could grab for when I span, fell, and, well, here we are!”

He gives you a broad but sarcastic grin, realising the absurdity of his predicament, trying to spread out his palms in a jazz hands kind of illustration but only managing to do it with one, the other trapped at his belt line by a string of dazzling pink lights.

“Um, you need a hand?”

“Uh, yes please.”

You take a moment to appraise the situation. You see the broken ladder, the tangled piles of lights, scuffed-up fake grass and unruly piles of snowballs.

As for Eddie, he seems unharmed, if a little bruised in the ego (and, perhaps, the elbows). He’s still wearing the Santa suit. Well, most of it. He still has on the hat for some reason, and the trousers, but he’s discarded the beard and jacket, presumably for reasons of temperature regulation or ease of movement, and his ‘belly’ cushion is nowhere to be seen.

And his top half? Well, his top half is now adorned only in a tight, white tank top.

You swallow as you take in his torso. He looked good on stage that night at the bar, but you never really got to see him this close up. Or this well lit.

His skin is almost as pale as the fake snow that litters the area, but there’s a creaminess to it that just makes him look, well, edible is the only word you can think of. Apart from ’lickable’. Yep, that would work too…

He’s solid, well defined, but he’s not stocky. You imagine that years of carrying amps and band equipment around has toned his muscles rather than bulked them.

And the tattoos… Oh. God.

You’ve always had a thing for people with alternative tastes, but this guy takes the cake. Swirling black ink in a variety of designs and styles covers his pecs and biceps, with smaller but no less elaborate designs adorning his forearms.

You notice a subtle glint under the colourful strings of lights that enwrap him, and spot that one of his nipples is pierced, the ring of metal just barely visible through the taut fabric.

Your eyes drift to his hands (those same hands that entranced you that first night), and although there’s no rings tonight (you guess ‘Badass Santa’ wasn’t the version on the mall’s wish list) his hands are no less attractive, still strong-looking and veiny, and you spot a number of small finger tats that you hadn’t been aware of before.

His position and the fact that he’s still struggling mean his abs are tensed, with his forearms are in front of him, making them, and his shoulders, really pop.

Jeezus.

Your thighs clench and you feel a heat bloom in your core.

He notices you staring, and for a moment seems to revel in it, but eventually breaks you out of your trance, asking, “You gonna help me get out of this, or what?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course, um, lemme just…”

You decide to start at his feet, reasoning that’s where the tangles are the least bad, and at least if his feet are free he’ll be able to sit up.

That decision has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you’d like to see him sitting, bound, tied up for you, naked…

Shit. Fuck. Concentrate…

Eventually you free him from the majority of his confines, your fingertips and the backs of your hands brushing his skin and the fabric of his clothes occasionally. As he’s able to sit up, his hair tickles you as you work, his scent invades you all over again, and the two of you share glances and timid little chuckles as you move around him, both aware that you’re closer than you’ve been before.

Eventually he’s completely freed, and as he stands and steps out of the final loop of lights he flops exhaustedly backwards into his golden throne, eyeing the pile of entangled lights and running a hand over his face, mumbling, “Shit, there’s no hope for them tonight. I’ll deal with it all in the morning.”

You stand to the side of the throne, wanting to check he’s ok, and in a bold move that you weren’t expecting he lifts one arm and takes the tips of your first two fingers in his, gently raising your hand in a silent instruction to come closer.

Mirroring your earlier comment, he says, “Thanks, Boots. You’re a real lifesaver”, adding, with a hand against his forehead, “I would’ve been here all night, could’ve starved to death. They'd've found my mummified remains in the morning.”

You find yourself stepping towards him, and with your free hand try to give his pec a playful slap, murmuring, “You’re so dramatic. No, wait, theatrical!”

The slap fails though, as he rapidly brings his other hand up to the back of yours, trapping your palm against his chest. You can feel the heat of his skin, the slight sheen of sweat just noticeable as your fingertips breach the low neckline of his top, the heavy thud of his heartbeat.

You don’t realise how close you’ve become, and you gasp as your knees touch the side of his. He gently grabs the hand that’s on his chest and pulls it to his side, and to stop yourself from toppling forwards you have to step around him, ending up standing astride his legs.

Your eyes lock, and something changes. For a long moment neither of you move, and you feel your breathing rate speed up.

Not breaking eye contact, Eddie slowly moves your arm up to his shoulder, and you find yourself climbing onto the throne with him, straddling his thighs.

He breaks out that low, rumbling voice again, as he murmurs,

“That’s it, Boots, come sit on Santa’s lap.”

As you lower down onto him, you feel the heat of his thighs through your thin tights, and then the contrast of the chill of your metal-coated heels against the backs of yours.

You also feel something bloom in the pit of your stomach. And further down. A warmth, heat, need.

Eddie moves one hand to hold the back of your waist, pulling you gently, moving you further up his lap towards him.

You feel the unmistakable bulge of his arousal between your thighs, and as he moves you closer you gasp as you feel it nudge your mound.

You look at each other for another long moment, aware that this is very new territory. His eyes flick between your eyes and your lips, as he asks, quietly, “Is- is this okay?”

It’s all too much and simultaneously not enough. You definitely weren’t expecting any of this, but at the same time you find yourself desperately nodding, needing more of him, of Eddie.

You answer by slowly rolling your hips lightly against him, your lips parting slightly.

The few layers of fabric between you aren’t enough to dull the sensation of his cock pushing against your centre, and you feel it gradually pressing between your folds, your growing slick making the movements easier.

Suddenly, his bulge nudges your sensitive bud.

You gasp again at the sensation, making Eddie exhale a long low, warm breath over your torso, before he speaks again.

“Boots, can I kiss you?”

You take a breath, considering how this could all go. You could walk away now (albeit with shaky legs and damp thighs) and leave any possible awkwardness or complicated entanglement in favour of a simple, uncomplicated holiday with your friend.

But then you look into his eyes again, as his hips gently buck and nudge you once more, and your decision is made.

Breathing out, you reply,

“Fuck yeah, Santa.”

Wearing a soft, sly smile, he gently brings one hand to the back of your head, bringing you to him as he moves forwards, chocolate eyes roaming your face, scanning your eyes and lips.

Noses bumping and lips millimetres apart, he pauses for a moment before closing the gap, pressing his soft, plush lips to yours. They feel divine, soft and velvety, and this close you can smell everything him now, with the subtle addition of something faintly minty.

You kiss him back, and then you both press forward harder, parting your lips at the same moment, the tips of your tongues touching and dancing before sliding past each other and deepening the kiss, your teeth bumping gently and hot breaths mingling.

It’s wet, hot and needy, your hands grasping his shoulders, and his arms pulling you closer to him.

The rolling of your hips gradually becomes stronger and more forceful, and he bucks harder up into you. You need more. Breaking the kiss for air, you take a couple of lungfuls, toying with the drawstring on his red pants before asking, bold and more than a little cheeky,

“How are you feeling? Still entangled? Do you need a hand getting out of these, too?”

“Yeah, fuck, I’m feeling very… entrapped, kinda claustrophobic. Might be in shock from such a traumatic experience. I might need to loosen my clothing a bit, y’know, for medical reasons.”

You give him a smirk, and untie the cords. Raising up on your knees slightly, you slide your thumbs hands into the waistband of those and his fitted, black boxers (fuck, is there anything about this guy that isn’t sexy?). He quickly takes the hint, lifting his hips off of the throne and allowing you to move his garments down to his thighs.

As you work his member gets caught on the elastic of his boxers, and as it releases from the fabric it springs back onto his abdomen with an audible slap. You can’t help but look, and you’re not disappointed. It’s pleasantly, but not overly, big, thick and veiny, curved slightly and with a large flared head. The tip is shiny and pinky-red, and as you stare it twitches away from his body and a tiny bead of precum leaks from the tip. You’re surprised, but also delighted, to spot a shining pair of steel balls decorating a frenum piercing, and that there’s a few pretty dot and line work tattoos near the base.

It’s beautiful. You want to tell him so, but he grabs you and pulls you in for another deep, passionate kiss, his length trapped between your bodies, hot and pulsing.

You melt into the kiss, tongues slipping and sliding, lips rubbing, noses smooshed against each other and enjoying it for as long as you can both do without air.

Needing another deep inhale, and also wanting to get your hands on his delightful cock, you sit up again, slipping one hand between you and grasping at his length. Eddie hisses, then moans,

“Oh, Boots, you’re gonna fucking kill me.”

You enjoy the feeling of him in your hand for a few moments, relishing the heat and hardness, before you position the palm of your hand behind his cock and push your centre towards him again, trapping his length between your hand and belly.

More thrusts of his hips moves him between you, your slightly adjusted position now pressing him firmly between your clothed folds, his cock dragging the fabric across your clit. You can’t help but let out a high whine, and you feel his cock twitch again.

“Too much fabric. Wanna feel you.”

His voice is gruff, desperate, wanting.

You lean back a little, resting one hand on the arm of the throne, keeping your other hand wrapped around his cock. You’re not sure you ever want to let it go.

His hands move from your ass to your thighs, running over them and squeezing. When he reaches the part exposed by your lifted skirt he growls, feeling the skin of your hips and belly through the mesh of your tights.

Suddenly, his chin dips and he gives you an almost evil grin. His eyes remain connected with yours as the tip of his tongue peeks out of the corner of his mouth as he pushes some of his fingertips through the holes, grabs tightly and pulls.

You freeze as the sound of snapping fabric echoes around the grotto, cool air now gracing your belly and inner thighs. You gasp, not only at his actions but because you packed light and don’t have any other tights with you. But as Eddie’s thumbs trace up to the crease of your thighs, dangerously close to your heated core, all thoughts of packing and capsule wardrobes are erased. You want, no, need him to touch you.

With a smirk, you say, “Please touch me, Santa. I promise I’ve been such a good girl this year.”

His jaw goes slack and he looks at you in awe. You notice how black his eyes have become, the beautiful chocolate hues all but obscured.

He flicks his gaze to your core, black satin panties with lace edging fully on display. He runs one thumb pad up your very centre, feeling the smooth, silky fabric, your heat, the dampness that’s already apparent.

“Christ, baby, is this all for me?”

“All for you, Santa. I’m pretty sure you’ve been a bad boy this year, but you deserve a treat anyway.”

His eyes flick to yours again briefly, his lips curling into a lascivious smirk, before returning to the beautiful display between your legs. He hooks his thumb around one lace edge and, much more gently than he handled your tights, moves the soaked satin to one side.

With a tenderness and reverence that you’ve never experienced before, Eddie parts your folds with his thumb and runs it delicately from your wet lips all the way up to your clit. His eyes are fixed there, jaw slack, and you genuinely think he might drool.

As he connects with your sensitive bud you keen above him, eyes closing and head rolling back.

“That’s the spot, huh?”

You come back to look at him, and manage to breathe out, with a lilting giggle, “Fuck, yes.”

He moves his thumb in a small circle, and your mouth falls open in an O, your brows furrowing slightly.

“You want me to keep going, Boots? All you have to do is ask…”

You’re lost, gone, away in space, and you don’t have the capacity to chide him for his cheek. All you can manage is a breathy, “Please Eddie, please keep going.”

His thumb speeds up slightly and he gradually and gently increases the pressure, and you can feel the coil in your belly tightening already. Fuck, he’s good at this.

Your hand remains clamped around his dick, squeezing it occasionally, his hips rutting up into your fist at a leisurely pace as he watches you fall apart on his lap.

He moves his other hand from where it’s been resting on your hip, and, widening his thighs slightly to create space beneath you, brings the tips of his index and middle fingers to your hole. You’re sopping wet and swollen, lips almost sucking him in just from the slightest touch.

He looks to your face again as he asks, “Is this okay?”

You manage a rapid, shallow head nod and a, “M-hm”, and he slowly plunges two fingers into you, scissoring them and generating a low groan from you, which in turn causes a harsher snap from his hips.

“Jeezus, Boots, you make the most delicious sounds, wish I could record them, listen to them on a loop. Fucking hell.”

“Maybe you can, you’re a musician after a-all…”

That’s the last thing you can say for a while, the combination of Eddie’s smirk, his talented fingers pumping in and out of you, his glorious thumb movements, the feel of his cock in your hand and his hips bucking beneath you all conspire to bring you to your peak.

You grip the arm of the throne hard, nails denting the pile on the velvety fabric. Your eyes close and your vision goes black before becoming a thousand tiny fairy lights, a firework igniting in your core and spreading throughout your body in the most delicious waves as you spasm around Eddie’s fingers.

You don’t notice you’ve been groaning until your senses return, and you feel a slight roughness in your throat. Eddie continues his movements, though slower, and helps you ride out your aftershocks as you pant on his lap.

Only when you start to twitch in discomfort does he remove his thumb from your clit. He slowly pulls his fingers from inside you, and to your surprise brings them up to his lips, pushing them fully inside his mouth and sucking greedily, closing his eyes and humming at your taste. Popping them out with a wet smack, he says,

“My god, Boots. You taste better than sugar cookies and cotton candy combined.”

Your arms feel suddenly weak, and you flop forwards, forehead on Eddie’s collarbone. You feel his warm, broad palm on your back, rubbing gently, soothing you.

“Y’okay there, sweetheart?”

You manage a little squeak, and mumble a tiny, “Mmph, yeaaah…”, as he chuckles lightly.

After a few moments you sit up a little, gazing into Eddie’s blown chocolate eyes through an endorphin haze, and you notice your cheeks are tense, in what must be, given Eddie’s somewhat lovesick expression, a goofy smile.

You realise you’re still holding on to his dick, and give it an experimental squeeze, to test whether your muscles are responding to signals from your brain (yeah, that’s definitely the only reason…). Eddie’s hips buck up, and you sneak a look down to see more precum leaking from the tip. You gather some with your thumb, circling it gently over his slit.

Eddie inhales with a hiss. His strong arm around your back goes to pull you in for another kiss, as his other hand reaches up to the hat atop his head, pulling it off and discarding it amongst the tangled fairy lights.

You move towards him for a deep kiss, releasing the grip on his member and running your hands around his (surprisingly muscular and delicious) neck and into the hair at the base of his skull, tangling your fingers into the curls and tugging gently, earning you another moan.

Shifting your hips along his thighs, you press your soaking folds against Eddie’s turgid cock, and the combination of sensations causes Eddie to break the kiss and emit a loud, low groan. His arms tighten around your torso and he moves his warm mouth down your jaw and neck with wet kisses, then lightly bites the top of your shoulder.

You sigh, knowing what you want.

“You ever fuck an elf, Santa?”

Eddies still mouthing at your collarbone as he mutters into your warm skin,

“Goddammit, you’re incredible.”

You move backwards slightly and Eddie takes the opportunity to reach behind him, grabbing the back of his tank top and dragging it off, dropping it carelessly to the side of the throne to join the lights and his hat.

Fuck, his chest is glorious too.

Bringing a little of your lower lip between your teeth, you run your palms down his solid torso. You want the opportunity to play with that nipple ring and examine each and every one of his tattoos, but right now there are more pressing desires on your mind.

He lets out a shaky breath as you brush his abs with your fingertips, shift your position and line up his swollen head with your eagerly awaiting hole.

“You sure about this, Boots?”

You look up at him, at his blown dark eyes and pink, kiss-bitten, shiny lips, and quirk an eyebrow as you run your fingers into his hair and murmur, “Oh yeah, Eddie. I want you to make me feel… special inside.”

He gasps as you angle your hips and sink down, pushing the head of his cock inside of you, gradually taking his thick length.

He kisses your lips once more, humming, as you acclimatise to his girth, then grins lasciviously as he thrusts his hips upwards, filling you completely. You’re close enough that the moans you let out mingle together and your breaths become shared, eyes locked and mouths agape.

You roll your hips, sliding Eddie’s length in and out of you at a gentle pace. You can feel every ridge and vein as he enters and pulls out, and you’re sure you can feel his frenum piercing dragging against your walls.

You can tell he’s holding back, consciously stilling his own hips and allowing you to set the pace. But this doesn’t last long.

Voice gravelly and ragged with lust, Eddie mumbles,

“Shit, baby, I gotta move. I wanna fuck you so bad, Boots. You gonna let me fuck you?”

Mouth close to his ear, you breathe out a small, “Please”.

It’s all he needs.

Grabbing your ass and squeezing hard but not harshly, Eddie pulls you down onto him as he thrusts up from below. His pace is ruthless as he lifts and drops you, matching his rhythm as he grunts and mumbles incoherent curses. You can’t make out much, but you do hear,

“Fuck, baby, you feel so divine, taking me so well, Jeezus Christ.”

Fuck, he feels amazing.

You remember his cock tattoos, and imagine how they might look, shiny and covered with your slick, disappearing in and out of your glossy lips.

This image, combined with a particularly hard snap of Eddie’s hips causing him to angle slightly differently and start to nudge that special place inside of you, causes you to let out a loud gasp, and your mouth drops open as you try to form a sentence.

“Oh fuck Eddie, I’m- I’m…”

“You gonna cum all over Santa, pretty girl?”

He continues thrusting at that delicious angle and you feel your legs start to tremble.

“Fuck! Y-yes, ye-ess!”

Heat building in your core, you just about hear Eddie mumbling,

“Shit, you’re squeezin’ me so tight, I’m not gonna last much longer. Where do you want…?”

Before he can even finish you’re blurting out,

“Inside me Eddie, please.”

You bounce on Eddie’s lap as his thrusts become deeper, faster, and then harsher and less rhythmic. You grind down onto his pelvis, your clit rubbing against his pubic bone and his thick, dark pubic hair, as his cock continues to bully your most sensitive spot.

Suddenly your muscles tense, thighs clamping around him, your forehead pressing hard into his, as his hips slam up into you. You let out a low whine as you peak again, vision blackening, all your muscles tensing as your walls clench around him.

Eddie follows almost immediately, thrusting harshly upwards and pulling your hips down onto him, and you feel rushes of warmth as he groans and empties himself inside your fluttering cunt.

There’s quiet for a moment, and all you can hear is your panting breaths and the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears.

You sit in silence for a few minutes, foreheads feasting against each other, heartbeats slowing and breathing becoming more regular.

Breathlessly, and without full clarity, you sit up slightly and mumble “Fuck, Eddie, that was…”

Eddie chews a little on the inside of his lower lip, and with the widest, sexiest smile you’ve ever seen, replies softly,

“Merry Christmas, Boots.”

After a few moments spent pecking kisses on various parts of your face, making you giggle, Eddie eventually helps you to lift off his slowly softening cock. He leans over to retrieve his discarded tank top and uses it to help clean the mess you both made between your legs.

You unpeel yourselves from the golden throne, feeling sure the heels of your boots have left marks in your ass, and he aids your passage back to the locker room on wobbly legs, helping you wash and making sure you’re ok.

As you gather your things he changes into his street clothes. They’re not dissimilar to last night, though he’s foregone the chain belt and has chosen a somewhat more fully intact shirt, and he watches you as he slings on his leather jacket.

Almost ready, you look down forlornly at your gaping tights, the hole barely covered by the hem of your skirt. Eddie chuckles, and tries to lighten your hosiery-related mood.

“Perhaps I could buy you a new pair? Maybe at lunch tomorrow we could go visit your favourite shop, and you could pick out something nice?”

The image of Santa and one of his elves nonchalantly browsing the displays in a sex shop amuses you greatly, and you tell him so, but he insists he would totally do it, if you wanted to.

There’s a pause as you retrieve your coat and go to put it on, and as you do he adds,

“Well, I’d call it a Christmas gift, but… I’d actually prefer to get you something a little nicer. If you’re around. And you’d let me, of course.”

You’re surprised by Eddie’s unexpected tenderness, and the implication that he might want to continue… whateverthisis. You don’t want to presume anything, but there’s certainly a little tingle in your belly at the thought.

You reply, sardonically, “Sure, I guess. So long as it’s not red and glittery, I think I've had enough things like that to last me for a little while.”

You both snort-laugh at this.

As you start to walk together to the staff exit at the back of the mall, Eddie offers to take your bag so you can fasten your coat and put on your hat and gloves.

Trying to sound casual, he asks, “Sooo, how’re you gettin’ back to Robin’s?”

“I was gonna take the bus, like usual.”

Eddie looks at you sideways, slightly bashful.

“Could I, maybe, give you a ride? We can stop at Benny’s on the way, if you’re hungry. It's a diner”, he clarifies, remembering that you’re not from around here.

Your tummy flips, and not just from the thought of a milkshake and fries.

“Yeah, sure, I’d like that.”

Eddie smiles that wide smile again, and you see his cheeks turn a little pink. It’s odd, him being all shy and self-conscious after what you two have just done, but somehow it’s also incredibly endearing.

As he walks you through the parking lot, still carrying your bag and toying with a stray piece of tinsel that he found in his pocket, he says,

“Y’know, I’d still really like to see what you do with that Christmas dildo.”

Thinking back to how he looked all tangled up, you smirk back at him as you think of how you’d quite like a redo of him tied up for you.

As you reach his van, you lean against the passenger door and coyly look at him.

“Well, maybe I could show you. Could we, maybe, do something after work tomorrow?”

With the sweetest dimpled smile you think you’ve ever seen, Eddie cocks his head to one side and lifts a hand to run the tip of one forefinger along your jawline, as he replies in that low rumble,

“Oh, Boots, you should know by now. All you have to do is ask.”

🎄You may not yet be completely sold on the whole idea of The Holidays™️, but you’ll have to admit to Robin that this might well be the start of your Best. Christmas. Ever.🎄

Thanks so much for reading! ILY 🥰

Please support your content creators by not only liking but also commenting and reblogging - it’s so important. If you liked this there’s a good chance others will too, and comments and reblogs are the only way posts get seen. Consider it a Christmas gift to your writers and followers 😍🎅🏼 Thank you, and Happy Holidays, however you celebrate!

Resources: Proof that Deck The Halls can be sung to the tune of War Pigs (and vice versa), plus the ‘Fa la la’ 😊🎄

#prompt party #Santa!eddie munson #come sit on Santa’s lap #festive fic #promptparty #festive smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #5+1 #5+1 fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #Christmas fiction #best christmas ever #Eddie munson fan fiction #Eddie munson fanfic #Christmas smut #rockstar!eddie #strangers to lovers #steve harrington #robin buckley #S.A.N.T.A. BABY #boots #joseph quinn

[multifandumbmeg]

Alright SCREW IT here's my Kiara defense post:

Is it annoying to watch get paired off with everyone in the main cast? Sure. Let me explain why that's not a character flaw or terrible, unplanned writing so yall can put some respect on her name.

1. They're ALL in love with her, and literally throwing themselves at her all the time. This is so important and well-documented that John B literally tells us IN HIS INTRODUCTION TO THE GROUP in episode one. It is literally so relevant to their entire group dynamic that he brings it up in the first episode summary of who they all are. Guys actually do this I have seen this happen. One of my high school best friends was constantly manic pixie dream girled (despite being profoundly depressed) and several entire friend groups of boys fell in love with her. She dated one guy, who was a piece of shit and dumped her saying it was because of his parents but told his friends it was because she had too much baggage. The fallout was so bad, one guy from one of the friend groups tattled to her and a different guy, who was best friends with the douche, literally got into a fight with him and THE DOUCHE HAD TO CHANGE FRIEND GROUPS BECAUSE HIS BOYS KICKED HIM OUT. I'm serious about these teenage boys all having the same taste and thinking it's a competition.

2. John B kissed HER. She immediately shut him down. Immediately. Everything before that can easily be explained as Kiara being concerned about him after losing his father. Teenage boys are dumb anyhow, but it's particularly easy to see why John B and JJ, who have both been routinely neglected and grew up without mothers (read, any positive female attention/influence) would interpret this as Kiara having feelings for them. They fall in love with anyone who sincerely gives them the time of day, basically. And that's a little too relatable moving on.

3. "Mixed signals" by kissing boys on the cheek. While I would not recommend this, I think there was a very clear pattern to her behavior and I have a theory I'm 99% sure is canon, based on copious textual evidence.

Kiara was in love with JJ all along. I'll come back to this. She only kissed the boys she friendzoned on the cheek. With John B, I genuinely think she never had any sort of romantic feelings for him and just saw him as a best bro. But she was worried about him, and maybe realized he listened to her more when she did it. Nonetheless, the minute he gets with Sarah it's almost like she feels relieved and never does anything remotely mixed signals to him again. Now Pope? That is a rich text. What the hell is going on with her and Pope?

4. When Pope first confesses, Kiara is once again caught off-guard. She once again rightfully turns him down IMMEDIATELY and gives extremely accurate and self-aware reasons. Her rejection of him is surprisingly mature, that the life he plans on and wants is ultimately and assuredly not compatible with what she wants for herself. So why did she kinda date him? Honestly, I think it was an attempt to move on from what she believed were doomed feelings for JJ. After all the things that happen in season 1, after Pope going off the deep end a little bit by smoking weed, getting drunk, and engaging in acts of violence, as well as ditching his scholarship interview, Kiara suddenly experiences a spark of attraction towards Pope.

Because he's acting like JJ. Reckless. Using substances to cope. Chaotic. Spontaneous. She knows these things are bad for Pope, and she's at times put off by how un-Pope-like they are as his friend, but she has a type. So following a moment of attraction and the sudden supposed loss of John B (and Sarah), she decides to give it a go. Maybe Pope's different after everything that happened. And he is, but not quite the way she was expecting. To link this back to the cheek-kissing thing, honestly, I think Kiara lowkey has the ick 😂. She consistently shoves any of the boys who try to touch her at all away except for JJ, the entire series mind you, except for these little cheek kisses like that's all she can manage to do. She kisses Pope like twice and ends up sleeping with him, at which point she realizes she just can't do it. She's not consistently attracted to her, and she can't get past her feelings for JJ, so she calls it off. Again, that's a fair healthy, and kind thing to do. When you realize it's not going to work, especially if you have feelings for someone else, it is distinctly NOT dragging people around to cut it off. If Kie has a real problem, honestly? I think it's that ultimately she wants a man she can fix. And Pope's fine. So that's him out.

My proof that the writers absolutely intended Kiara to have feelings for JJ from day one:

"Did you tell JJ?" specifically. Just JJ. She doesn't want HIM to think she's taken.

Shoving away John B and Pope every time they try to hug her or put an arm around her etc. Letting JJ hug her, take her hand, sling his arm around her etc. She also goes out of her way to touch him by taking his arm, holding him when he's crying, hugging him several times and then almost kissing him. So in a way, I'd very much like you to consider, Kiara was not in fact sending everyone mixed signals, her problem was that she was so consistent. Consistently attracted to and in love with someone she thought had no real interest in her. JJ flirts with her jokingly, and from episode 1 and the convo in the bell tower between John B and Sarah, we know that he's a horny little dude. And that's not surprising either, because people who've been abused tend to go one way or the other- either very physical touch-seeking in an attempt to balance about the bad, or very touch-avoidant. JJ is clearly, demonstably in column A. Not just with Kiara, but he also initiates hugs with John B and Pope, touches their faces, and even kisses Pope on the cheek once. He's clearly a very touchy person with everyone, so I can see how Kiara would be unsure about his feelings when he very much does not communicate his wants or needs with words.

Finally, the proof that Kiara had feelings for JJ, and that Jiara was the direction the show was headed, was in their conversation in thr storage container. When JJ tells her what he wants from life and plans to do with the money, it's a direct parallel to her initial reject of Pope. He wants to travel the world and be spontaneous and non-sedentary and have no use for money. Everything she said to Pope and is always trying to explain to her parents. That was 0% accidental, that was the writers making it clear: these two are a match, they're compatible on a much deeper level.

4. So if they always planned on JJ and Kiara, why didn't those two just get together to start? The answer, my friends, is jealousyy. This is a common tactic in writing to get a couple together: force the reluctant one to acknowledge their feelings by putting the other in a relationship with someone else. Im short: every moment between Kiara and John B or Pope was to show us JJ did not like that and therefore that his feelings for Kiara were serious, unlike how she interpreted them and him being a flirty himbo with other girls. It also helped Kiara realize she wasn't getting over him any time soon, and that she couldn't avoid her feelings either. So it forced them both to give up and acknowledge to themselves that they had feelings for the other.

5. "Teenage girls don't act like her" JOKES. This is the dumbest argument I've seen, I'm sorry. I'm happy you have met such well-adjusted teenage girls but buddy... I have known some teenage girls and people who used to identify as girls at that age who would make you roll over in your grave. Some people don't know what they want, some people desperately crave attention, some people just can't seem to avoid drama or make good choices and sometimes that's even a resulted of untreated disabilities or mental illness. Sometimes it's all of the above. My point is absolutely there are teenage girls who act like Kiara and faaar worse.

6. Lastly, why not John B or Pope? Why was Kiara totally valid for not liking them romantically? Well feelings are feelings so she's valid anyways but can we talk about them both touching her/making moves at inappropriate times without consent?? It's understandable she likes JJ and feels the safest around him when he's the only who doesn't act like he wants or expects anything from her. He never kisses her without consent, let alone while running from the cops randomly. He never tries to put his arm around her or make a move in the middle of them having an emotionally intimate conversation where she is clearly seeking emotional comfort. I'm not saying John B or Pope are bad people, but with Kiara both showed a lot of immaturity and failed to read the room numerous times. They acted whenever they personally felt attraction, regardless of where she was at at the time. There's such a thing as reading body signals, and the only times JJ comes close to making an actual move on Kiara is when she comes to him, gets close to his face and leans in. In the end, he only kisses her after she looks him dead in the eyes and tells him I LOVE YOU. That's on respect. Also, John B and Pope both get their shit together and learn this with their next girlfriends! So good on them!

But Kiara confessed to JJ at a random time too! I hear you shouting. NAY. Incorrect!! JJ is actively avoiding her and having a mature conversation about how they feel about each other, and also the fact that he stole from her family, and that is on HIM. That is a result of his issues and his fear and poor coping mechanisms. Kiara forced him to address it at an inopportune time because she already attempt to address it privately TWICE and he wouldn't let her. So all she did there was clear the air and make her own feelings known, which he needed to hear. That is the last conversation they have before he attempts to apologize and confess back. That is what convinces him that Kiara's feelings for him are both genuine and serious, and that no amount of pushing her away will succeed. She loves him unconditionally, which he did not know was possible until then.

So in short!! Kiara actually behaves like a real human being. She's not crazy, extremely selfish, nor an example of writers just testing out the waters and seeing what the fans want or who has the most chemistry. She is very consistent. The only thing I can really begrudge about her behavior towards her friends (her parents are a different story) is that she's insensitive to both John B and Pope after rejecting them, which I believe is because she doesn't realize they had actual feelings for her so much as thinking she's hot.

#Anyway #If anyone wants to reblog this with gifs #Please do!! #Give us the adhd friendly version #outer banks #obx #kiara carrera #kiara obx #jiara #pope heyward #john b routledge #Kiara apologist

[venuscnjunctpluto]

Astrology Observation pt. 2

(Thank y’all for all the support on my first one❤️🙌🏾)

*as a sag Venus sag mars pls stop asking me why I’m laughing…I’m not laughing at YOU I’m just insane😝

*moon in the 1st synastry is so therapeutic you just feel really comfortable opening up to the 1st house person and as the 1st house person I feel honored someone trusts me enough to share their feelings🫶🏾

*people w aqua and libra in their big three are the chillest mfs you’ll ever meet. Even though I’m very chaotic anytime someone describes me “chill” just seems to be thrown in there. We space out ALOT and it’s honestly embarrassing😭 Ex: Alicia keys, lil Wayne, Harry styles, Rosalia. Harry gives such himbo energy in interviews and they drag him for it in the comments but he’s probably just thinking about multiple things at once. Alicia keys didn’t even realize lil mama was on that stage and went on performing lol. Obviously lil Wayne smokes but something about his energy…he’s on cloud 9. And just go watch Rosalia’s chicken shop episode💕😂.

*honestly Aries mars aren’t that bad when it comes to temper because usually they find ways to manage it. Now mars-Uranus aspects is a completely different story. I have late mars-Uranus and it takes me a while to get mad but when I do I can’t even think anymore. My old roomie had a tight square and she would blow up on people for no actual reason like girl sit down😭

*something about Scorpio mars men is just😮‍💨 they have such a sneaky energy to them that makes them stand out. Virgo mars are fine too they’re just so skinny and no matter wtf they do they’re always nerdy ugh (ex: Matthew gray gubler, Lucky daye, Dylan O’Brien, Jeff Buckley)

*i noticed Aries moon don’t really get along w each other. They find their own energy to be too mf much (which it can be) so they prefer being around more calmer people *coughs* libra moons like me. They wanna be bouncing off the walls 🤪 while their friend is just like 🙂.

* fire risings do a lot of things fast. As an Aries rising, I walk fast, get happy fast, eat fast, workout fast. My cousin is complaining her sag rising toddler eats and drinks way too fast.

*venus in 11th…how many tiktok drafts do y’all got😭

*i talked to this guy who had similar placements as me (Venus in 8th and moon in 6th plus Aquarius and Aries placements) It was so chaotic it was literally us going back and forth obsessing over eachother while trying to keep it lowkey. But also the amount of anxiety we are naturally incline to have made the whole situation too mf much.

*i have mercury conjunct my friends mars and for years she tells me the things I say can take people there and make them wanna fight me. It’s in Capricorn and so I was confused before I knew we had that aspect

* i noticed rappers whose lines always stick out to me have Gemini mars or mercury- mars (central cee, king von, tupac, kendrick , j. cole)

*i was talking to this guy and I had Venus and mars plus pluto in his 4th house. Months after we stopped talking our friend groups meshed and he would tell me non-stop I reminded him of his mother. He said she was the same height as me and y’all I was scared to ask what she looked like cause 😫 y’all remember that episode of family guy when Chris dated that girl that looked like Lois yep 4th house synastry.

*im a true crime whore and two women who killed their bfs had sun-Uranus aspects. Their energy was erratic and very off putting in videos. I can’t remember the other one but Courtney tailor/clenney was one.

* More spilling my business on the Internet😍 i think I’m done entertaining people my age. Pluto in the 8th, Lilith in 1st, and Venus conjunct Pluto synastry has been hell. Where’s my sugar daddy/mama?? It’s ghetto out here

*gemini Lilith generation whose a year younger than me is nasty asf😭 esp the tauruses they have their Lilith conjunct their Gemini Venus and opposite their Pluto. One said he had a slept w two girls at separate times. He didn’t know they met until the girls posted a selfie together and tagged him. They later told him they wanted a threesome and he did it😭 knowing astrology I believed every word

* sidebar Neptune-asc people and trying to give off innocent vibes ugh annoying asf to me. I can see right through their bs but they’re able to fool most people.

* mercury-Pluto aspects are in fact LIARS and throw a Scorpio placement in there😮‍💨

#astro notes #astrology #astro observations #sag mars #harry styles #aries mars #virgo mars

[darkwaveho]

Favors

Short Tempered

Pairings: Stoner!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: A phone call leads Wanda to saying something she instantly regrets.

Warnings: 18+ Cursing, drug use/ drug mention/ angst, fluff, hurt comfort, brief smut

A/n: This has been in my drafts for so long I had to get rid of it, so enjoy the lil stoner baby and her inability to deal with emotions correctly.🙂😂

Series masterlist

You let yourself into Wanda's apartment, you love the fact that Wanda was so eager to gift you with your own key. You walk past the threshold expecting to find your girlfriend on the couch watching tv, smoking or running that creative brain of hers rapid. When you close the door, it was anything but the usual routine playing out in front of you as you watch your girlfriend pace back and forth on the phone with her voice raised and irritation clearly plastered on her face. Natasha catches your confused state as she nears you from the kitchen.

"Hey, Y/n." she gives you a small smile but there was a clear sense of new softness in her voice. "Nat, what's going on? Who's on the phone?" She glances at Wanda in the same moment went Wanda's frustrations reach their limits. "Yeah? well I don't need you! I don't need you for anything, I haven't for a whole year now!" Wanda was ready for more retaliation, but it never came the sounds of a disconnected call line flowed through her ear before she carelessly throws her phone and storms into her room shutting the door before you could attempt to console her. Natasha softly grabs your arm before you make a few steps towards your girlfriend's door, you don't know what's going on, but she's clearly upset, and you want to be there for her.

"I think you should give her a minute to cool off." You study her for a moment, she's not surprised by what just occurred. As if she could read your mind, she answers your question. "It's nothing new, but it has been a while since she's argued with her dad." Yes, her dad was a piece of shit in your opinion. The way he just cut her off financially just because she wouldn't let him hold some form of control over her was a disgusting move. You honestly couldn't wait to visit Wanda's parents on break, you're going to make sure you give him a piece of your mind. wherever Wanda lacks in the argument you'll be sure to pick up the weight and stand up for your girlfriend.

"Fuck, that makes a lot of sense now." Natasha sighs and tucks her hairs behind her ear. "Yeah, just give her a little space, this one was more intense than I've ever seen before." She rubs your shoulder and doesn't leave until you nod in agreement with her. Once Natasha leaves you can't help but to contemplate on knocking on Wanda's door. Your thoughts of doing the action go away when Wanda walks out of room fast on her heels searching for something, she barely greets you. In fact, she doesn't greet you at all, too enraged and focused on whatever was in the living room.

You follow after her cautiously, as you watch from the small distance and once you see what she was searching for you make your presence known more clearly. You sit on the couch beside her reaching around her and turning her face in your direction. You press your lips onto her which she oddly enough doesn't put much effort into like you hoped. When the small actions of kisses or lack thereof is done, she turns away from you and continues rolling her blunt with determination and much more effort than she did during the kiss.

You have a quick battle internally on if you should stop her and tell her to talk about what happened or just leave her alone all together, but you couldn't just let her keep those emotions bottled up inside of her. “Hey, baby, maybe you should chill on the blunt for a second.” you proceeded with caution, but it still didn't do any good with how fast she responded to you with animosity.

“I just got a lecture from him I don’t need one from you too…not right now.” Her voice and her hands shake from frustration. Frustration for briefly talking about a detail that happened on the phone and frustration for not having a steady hand right now while she was trying to roll and smoke her problems away.

“I was just saying- "

“Can you please just get off my damn back? You're smothering me!” She frantically expresses her frustration as she rubs her hands harshly against her face and storms into her room slamming the door in the process. You stand there in shock for a moment. You can’t believe what just happened and how quick things went left. To be fair Natasha did warn you about Wanda’s mood beforehand but that’s never stopped you from deescalating a situation. Especially since it was you asking her to lay off the weed for just a moment, she’s never really blown up at you before over something that seems so minuscule.

You won't stay where you're not wanted, you pick up your bag and place your key on the counter before leaving out of the door. Wanda finally calms down and realizes she went overboard and blew up at you instead of communicating to you in a healthy way. She feels bad, no she feels like shit. She felt worse when she opened her bedroom door to find her apartment empty. She thought for sure you were still here just on the couch or in the kitchen until she got herself together. hell, half of her thought you would've stormed into her bedroom and set her straight for speaking to you like that. "Shit." She releases a shuddered breath before running to the window, she wants to see if you're still within walking distance to catch up to you. So, she waits, so waits for you to come back to the apartment. You've been sleeping here for some time now and only going back to your dorm during RA room inspections. When waiting for you to return home to her fails, she immediately goes for her phone that now has a cracked screen from her previous outburst of frustration. Every call and text went unanswered and ignored before you finally put your phone on do not disturb.

---------

You go the rest of the day successfully avoiding Wanda, but you knew soon or later she'd find you with the hype about the football game, she knew you'd be there and sure enough as she arrived, she spotted you immediately on the bleachers sitting next to Darcy and Monica. She walks quickly along the side of the football field, her only focus is getting to you and fixing this misunderstanding. You were too engaged on the game happening in front of you to even see Wanda approach you, but Monica lightly taps your elbow and whisper near your ear. "Here comes Wanda." She leans back with a soft smile as you take a quick glance out the corner of your eye. Sure, enough you could spot your girlfriend a mile away, but you still don't acknowledge her as she sits down on the bench next to Darcy, she wants to push her out of the way to sit insanely closer to you.

"Hey, Wanda." Darcy smiles as Wanda greets her with a head nod and very brief eye contact before her eyes were on you again. Monica pops her head forward to greet Wanda as well and she's met with the same response. She didn't have anything against them she considered them as friends but right now you and the status of this relationship mattered more. "I've been calling and texting your phone princess." She has to lean forward so she's not speaking directly into Darcy's ear while Darcy has to pretend, she's not listening to the conversation. Its awkward speaking to you this way.

"Lewis, can you move?" Wanda was done being nice she needed to talk to you and apologize. Wanda doesn't want this to fester into something much bigger she's learned from her mistake the first time and she'd rather not experience that pain again. Darcy wasn't going to protest to that, but she wouldn't be moving away too far because she's just unapologetically nosy. Just as Darcy was about to stand up and sit somewhere else you harshly pull her back down to sit on the metal bench causing a few curious looks from Darcy's loud display of shock and pain. "Ouch, what the hell!" She holds her bottom soothing the stinging pain.

"I didn't tell you to move Darcy, I don't want to talk to her right now." You plead with Darcy to stand her ground and be a good friend to you. She sees that you're serious and obviously there was some tension between you and Wanda. She turns toward an annoyed Wanda and says she's not moving. Wanda tilts her head to the side slightly and narrows her eyes down on Darcy and that was enough to get her off the bench. Darcy sits on the other side next to Monica, who was being respectfully about the clear tension with you and Wanda. Wanda eagerly slides next to you sniffling in the process. You made note of her red nose and rosy cheeks. She only had on a thin zip-up hoodie as chilly as it was outside and she didn't have a hat on either, you don't make a remark about it like you normally would. It takes a moment for Wanda to speak up, how should she start the conversation off? It's easy to sit in mutual silence as the crowd cheers and boos around you both. She musters up the confidence to start the conversation with her taking accountability for her actions.

"I'm sorry." You keep your eyes on the field not giving her any form of eye contact while she's so close to you. You're still mad at her. The silence from you only made her more anxious she nervously fumbled with her jacket pocket and pulled out your key to her apartment. "You left this on the counter." She brings it your eye view not waiting to see if you'd grace her with your beautiful eyes again. You hum in acknowledgement and turn away from her completely. "I know." Now she was really worried, she thought you left it in the heat of the moment not on purpose. "W-what why would you leave it intentionally?" She has to raise her voice in volume as the crowd cheers again, this was probably not a good place to fix an argument. Wanda drops her hand and tightens her grip on the cold metal, it would surely make marks into her skin when she checks her hand later.

"I didn't think it was best for me to stay where I wasn't wanted, besides I'm just giving you what you asked for, I wouldn't want to smother you anymore than I have, right?" Instantly Wanda regrets what she said to you, it didn't come out the way she wanted it to, what she meant was that she wanted space to deal with her emotions on her own rather than being coddled and comforted, she wasn't used to it so it's only normal that she reacted that way, but she still won't excuse herself for it.

"Hey, I want you there. I always want you there hence why even made you a key in the first place." She swallows the tension in her throat and slides closer to you on the bleacher. "I didn't mean that Princess, smother me all you want. Preferably I'd want you to smother me with your thighs." She attempts at making light of the situation. It doesn't work. Especially not a horny joke right now. Her playful smile drops within an instant when she doesn't hear a giggle, or she doesn't see a lopsided smile on your face. Without word you stand up from the bleacher and walk past a tight crowd, Wanda hurries after you she catches up to you in the process and when you don't stop after her calling your name a few times she runs after you and the only thing you feel is her hands and your body being lifted up. "Put me down Wanda." She nears the side of the bleachers away from the crowd with you still in her arms.

"No, I'm sorry, I was just trying to lighten the mood I'm not trying to make you upset." You wiggle in her grasp and release a disapproving scoff. "Too late for that." She releases you slowly and until your feet are back on the ground and you press your back into the hard surface of the bleachers. "About what I said earlier, I didn't mean it like that." She pokes her lip out and fidgets with her rings silently waiting for you to say something as she gathers her thoughts. "I was just upset, and I took it out on you when you were just trying to help."

"Wan-" She cuts you off before you have the chance to say anything. "Don't breakup with me, please." She steps closer to you but still gives you enough space to not feel crowded. "You really think I would breakup with you because of this? Seriously?" Wanda's mouth hangs open. "I don't know, this is all still new to me, and you left your key and....I just don't want to stop being your girlfriend." The longer you stare at her the more you know you won't be able to stay mad at her any longer. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" She has a small grin starting to creep out and you know you're a goner. "All adorable and doe eyed." Wanda gasps with fake annoyance. "I'm not adorable!" You chuckle for the first time today and it puts her at ease. "Yes, you are." Wanda doesn't fight back she only moves closer and buries her face in your neck. "So, since I'm so adorable, you forgive me then?"

"Well, I probably should've just let you cool off on your own, I just wanted to comfort you. So yes, I forgive you." Wanda surges forward to attach her lips to yours the kiss is rushed and sloppy, you love the desperation of it after being on the receiving end of the lack luster kiss earlier. Before things get too heated you gently pull away from her as she groans in disappointment. "Do you want to tell me what happened? it's okay if you're not ready to talk about it yet but I just wanted to ask." You bite your lip waiting anxiously for an answer and hoping you didn't push too hard again for another blow up.

There is a sense of hesitation in her eyes, and you were about to tell her it was okay, but she surprises you with actually opening up and being willingly to communicate with you. "The phone call was going surprisingly well a little too well I should've known he'd still be nagging me about the same thing, but the conversation took a turn. I finally thought we were in a good place so I told him about me entering the art showcase and how I would love it if he came to support. I wasn't even expecting him to praise me for my art or anything but just for him to be present during this big accomplishment." You wrap your arms around her waist and pull her into your arms, but you still remain silent only offering her comfort until she's done releasing all of these feelings and emotions.

"I just wanted him to come to my first big show. He didn't even want to come to my show, Y/n." "Is that asking for too much? even after he said he couldn't support me financially I found a way to secure myself on my own and it's still not enough. I'm not enough all he cares about is Pietro and his future track career." She releases a frustrated breath of air as tears well up in her eyes. "I love Pietro and I would never wish harm on him, but Sometimes I just wonder what would happen if he got injured and couldn't run track anymore. Would my father still treat him better than me or would he make Pietro fend for himself now that he can't do something they mutually liked."

"Hey, no, no its not asking too much, Wanda. in fact, is the bare minimum he should want to support you no matter what, and I'm sorry for saying it out loud but your father is a piece of shit. He's going to look stupid in the future when you're so successful doing something he tried so hard to keep you from pursuing." You take a brief pause, bringing your fingers up to her face and swiping away the fallen tears. "And when that day comes, I'll be there to remind him that he had no part in your success at all and that you did it all on your own, without his help and without his money." She studies your face; she needs a moment to actually believe in what you're saying to her right now. Her blank expression is soon transformed into a growing smile as she leans her forehead on yours. "I love you."

"I love you too." You snuggle your nose against hers softly as you pull her in for a kiss. Once again, the kiss picks up in momentum and her hands move on their own traveling down to the zipper of your jeans. "Do you." She cuts you off by the intrusion of her tongue. "Want to." she cuts you off again sucking on your tongue. "Go to the car?" She bites your lip and chuckles sinisterly as she leans back but not giving you too much space. "Nuh un." Was all she said before she's back on her mission into your pants. You shriek from the first contact of her ice-cold fingertips. "Your fingers are fucking freezing."

"That's why I'm trying to warm them up, princess." Her fingers move in slow languid motions, she's completely focused on you from the small breaths you take to the utter self-control you have to use in order to not be so loud, even though you doubt you could be louder than the rowdy and emotional people in the bleachers. Every time she spoke words of simple matter you couldn't ignore the sultry and hunger in her voice, as her warm breath fans over your ear you feel yourself nearing closer and closer to your climax.

"I'm sorry for being an asshole."

"You look so hot when you're mad at me."

"I wish everyone on that field could hear how hot you sound. I wish everyone could hear how good I make you feel." That did it, that had you eager to please her, eager to make her good.

She's distracted and entranced by you and how she's making you feel she doesn't feel your prying hands on her jeans, and she gasps in surprise when your cold fingers slither their way into her warm and wet cunt. "Fuck." She whispers softly, you focus on leaving your marks on her neck, she still continues fucking you with her talented fingers. you're both panting and clinging to each other against the cold metal surface. The cold weather no longer being an issue when your bodies are radiating so much heat and ecstasy. You never thought you'd end the night like this, bucking into each other's hands at the football game not even having the decency to go to the car. You didn't care though; you find yourself not caring a lot about consequences when it comes to public sex since you've been with Wanda.

"Fuck, add another finger, baby." You add another finger, and she picks up in speed and whines against your lips. She's been working you up longer than you have been doing to her. "You're my girlfriend, say it." her breathing grows shallower and quicker paced, she's close. "I'm your girlfriend." You smirk as you thrust your hand harder you didn't even bother tugging her jeans down further for better access. She has you repeat the words over and over until she gets the reassurance she was looking for. "Are you gonna cum with me?" Wanda just nods her head not bothering to say any verbal words, you think it's cute when you have her lost for words and too fucked out to speak. "Yeah?"

"Uh hun." Her face is flushed, and her skin is hot and sweaty.

"You know you make me feel so good." You lean your head to whisper in her ear adding a playful bite to her earlobe for extra effect. She releases a loud moan so loud you're certain someone heard it since the crowd has quieted down. The moment you slip your free hand under her hoodie and twist her nipple while you simultaneously hook your finger in the right spot, you know she's cumming with you. The way both of you clench around each other's fingers at the same time.

The sight of pleasure plastered on each other's faces at the same time, and the feeling of your warm juices leaking down one another's fingertips at the same time. Both of you having the same thought of sucking the juices off each other's fingers but Wanda takes her hand away before you can put them in your mouth and sucks on them mockingly in your face.

"Now that's just being greedy." You fold one arm across your chest. She releases both fingers with a pop sound and grins at you as the saliva glistens on her face. "Hm, I'm sorry Princessa, here you can have a taste." She pulls you forward and shoves her tongue in your mouth making sure that no spot within your mouth was left untouched and unclaimed. You both share a few soft kisses before pulling apart. Wanda apologies once more for her actions earlier. "Stop, it's okay. I was upset but I wasn't going to end things because of an argument Wands, we're okay." You wait for her to acknowledge that nothing is changing, and couples have arguments and disagreements sometimes. She nods her head once and holds your hand, rubbing her thumbs against your skin.

"Do you wanna go back and watch the game?" You look at her like she's grown another head, especially since you've missed half the game already. "Fuck no, let's go home." You kiss her cheek and finish fixing you clothes in a presentable manner. You had plans on watching her favorite shows with her and possibly a few more rounds. Wanda grins and doesn't really bother to properly fix her clothes. You place a hand on hers just as she gets ready to close her zipper. "Leave that open I might get hungry on the way home." You shoot her a wink and walk away towards the parking lot. "Holy shit, I fucking love you." As Wanda quickly catches up to you in the parking lot, she can't help but feel like this is the bright side of having a short temper paired with a loving and understanding girlfriend.

#favors au #stoner!wanda #wanda maximoff x reader #stoner!wanda maximoff x reader

[s-4pphics]

i NEED to see a street racer ellie x grid girl reader fic IM ON MY KNEES FOR THIS🙏🏾🙏🏾

OHHHHHHHHHHH WEVE DONE IT AGAIN IMPULSIVE HCS

wc;cw: 800 or sum, streetracer!ellie, gridgirl!oc, ellie being a car nerd and hot, mentions of sex MDNI, mentions of ciggies and illegal shit

streetracer!ellie…… passes out 

she always loved cars :3 her dad owned a mechanic shop and used to watch him repair all the damaged cars that showed up

when she was thirteen he finally let her help him replace the tires 

and then change the oil

and then fix the ignition 

eventually taught her how to drive stick😝😝

and 2 years later she knew the anatomy of vehicles like the back of her hand 

she was on her dads payroll 💯💯 shout out to mechanic!ellie😞

when she found out ab street racing she got obsessed with it. 2 fast 2 furious is her favorite movie of all time

her youtube history was wild😞😞 30 hours of devon aoki edits saved 

so when she got invited to a race by one of her friends when she was a junior for her birthday she almost passed out 

the screech of the tires on the pavement and smell of gas gave her heart eyes

she swore she was going to participate in a race after they both left that night

SIKE she thought everyone laughed at her when she showed up the next day in her dads beaten up family van LMFAO 

the bullying was devious fr😞 she cried a little when she got home

but ofc her friend helped her ass out and high jacked his brothers old nissan

the overseers allowed her to participate but nobody bet on her except her 2 friends. that $20 pitch didn’t help her confidence much but she loved them😞

she was nervous and filled with adrenaline and tried so hard not to gawk at the hot girls that waved their grids around 

when they waved their flags and signaled for the racers to go….

ellie was out that bitch fr😞😞 SKKRTED ON THEY ASS BIG PURRR

VVRRRROOOOOOOM LIKE BFRRR

she hit every sharp turn every curve every bump like it wasn’t shit 

she made everybody eat they words that night. HAPPY BIRTHDAY QUEENIE😝😝

some overseers gave her $300 outta pocket that night and she wasn’t even on the list to race 

her and her friends went every weekend. would leave campus and go straight to the tracks fr

she started getting a little fan base after a month of racing😞😞 girlies from school would come just to see her 

but she didn’t pay them any mind💯💯 she payed them a little mind 

n 5 years later…. most betted on racer in the city YUHHHH 

she makes racks every weekend… and she brings it all home to her dad so she can take care of him 🥺🥺

he doesn’t question where she gets the cash from but he always feels nervous when she leaves the house🥺🥺 poor old man he just wants his baby to go to college

she owns one mclaren senna but never takes it anywhere😞😞 it just sits in her garage lol she paid for that shit in cash tho big bags big stacks

drives a fucked up supra when she races😂😂 she tries to cover up the scratches and large dents with cute little spray paint jobs of fire and sparkles and shit😂😂

she named it renee and slaps the trunk like she slaps ass every time she gets behind the wheel :3 thinks it’s good luck

smokes cigarettes mmmm fuuuck

such an aggressive racer like omgg she gets so competitive and pissed she's so hot

tatted to hell. full sleeve

TERRIBLE RECORD!!!!! arrested twice and was on parole :/

but at least all the grid girls got a little crush on her 😳😳 titties out ass out bc they want her attention 

all the male racers hate her bc of it… she don’t care tho suck her dick💯💯

she’ll never say it but…

she definitely stares too long at one grid girl whenever she shows up in her little croppies and booty shorts😞 she’s fine as hell ITS NOT HER FAULT💯💯

too bad gridgirl!oc doesn’t pay ellie any mind anymore :((she had the prettiest smile and such good pussy 

that ooey-gooey. that sloppy. THE WORLD'S BEST CREAMER💯

did i mention they're ex's? YEAAAH CLOCK THAT TEA

every time ellie fills up her tank she can’t stop thinking about the time she bent her ex over the trunk and railed her from the back 

she may never feel that pussy again 😞😞 it makes her wanna cry 

when she met gridgirl!oc for the first time two years ago her world changed for the better

her zits disappeared, her hair got softer, her crops were watered

they fell in love immediately…. like instantly 

they were inseparable. up each other's ass. in each other's cars. in each other's guts. so so happy 

until they weren’t 

their breakup was soooo fucking messy. 

cheating accusations. screaming contests. EVEN A PREGNANCY SCARE???😳😳😳

a hot mess. and their relationship ended in flames :(

but that doesn’t mean ellie can’t peep every once in a while😛😛 that ass is still fat as fuck regardless of the beef >:)

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams au #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams hcs #streetracer!ellie #gridgirl!oc #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #lesbian

[stupid-sloot-headcanons]

You know what. I feel like requesting a Nightcrawler dubcon/noncon fic. I just want him to absolutely worship darlings body and just overstimulate them as they sit on his face or anything really. He’s really been popping in and out of my mind all day 😂

Yandere Nightcrawler/Darling: Confession

TW: Noncon

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was two weeks ago."

A friendly, warm voice came from the other side of the confessional.

"Please, confess your sins, my son."

Kurt closed his eyes and sighed, resting his head in his hands. "My impure thoughts and feelings for the woman I've harmed, they haven't left no matter how much I've tried to temper them. And I know it sounds mad--maybe it doesn't, considering my appearance--But what I feel, what I DID, it isn't natural. This...the desire I have, it wouldn't leave me! It consumed my every thought until I acted on it." His hands shook. "I gave into my temptation, and I have sinned greatly."

He had spent hours trying to fall asleep and ignore the tent in his pajamas, and finally giving into his urges. But a few minutes in, the fantasy of actually having ____ in his arms just left him more and more frustrated. Why did he have to settle for his hands and imagination? What was so wrong with wanting her like this? Why was he so afraid of confessing how he felt? Surely she knew already, with how transparent he was around her: calling her sweet names in German, letting his hands linger whenever he could, playfully rubbing her cheek or giving her hugs and squeezes.

His heart raced as he impulsively pulled the waistband of his boxers up and teleported to ____'s room with a small cloud of blue smoke falling around him. "Kurt," ____ murmured drowsily. "Izzat you? What're you doing here? What time izzit?"

He kept silent and took a few steps towards her, and hesitantly reached out to rest his hand on her sheets. He's already here, so close to her, so close to having her hand in his. If he gave into this, he didn't know how far he would go. "I couldn't sleep," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry I woke you, but..." His smile faded. " I need to tell you something," he said shakily. "And it can't wait until tomorrow."

____ moved her upper body to sit up and face him. He sounded serious. She placed her hand on his and squeezed his three fingers. "Hey, it's ok. What's wrong, Kurt?"

"Mein Gott, her eyes were so full of concern for me," Kurt murmured, his voice cracking. "And her hand was so soft; all those nights I've spent imagining it and relishing every time our skin came into contact whenever we were together, it couldn't have ever been enough. And I..."

Kurt shivered and before he realized it, he had crashed his lips into hers. ____ let out a muffled cry of surprise as Kurt cupped her face with both hands and crawled onto the bed with her. When he finally pulled away, the two of them were panting softly. "I love you, and I've wanted you--needed you--for so long,"he sighed. Her eyes shone from the dim moonlight peeking through the blinds as he stared down at her. "Just indulging myself with my hand can't satisfy my...Please, please, with me..." He kissed her chin, lower jaw, and then her neck. "You can feel it too, can't you?" He rubbed his growing bulge against her thighs and the two of them moaned softly.

She felt him ease her thighs apart and she turned her head away to break the kiss, just to catch her breath and mentally catch up with everything that was happening. There's no way this was still a dream, right? Kurt, the devout Catholic, admitting to jerking off to her? Climbing on top of them and rutting against her like this?

"Kurt, wait," her protested. "This is...I like you, but...this is a sin, right?" She fought against that growing heat between her legs and tried to move away from him. "I thought sex outside of marriage wasn't okay according to the Church--"

He cupped her cheek and rubbed her soft skin with his thumb while smiling and kissing her neck. "Do you want to marry me?" He imagined ____ embracing him at the chapel, dressed in white and looking just as radiant as the ring on her finger. "Just say the word and I'll call the church tomorrow. We can be together, forever."

____ whined softly as Kurt moved his other hand to knead her breast. "But if we do this now, you'll get in trouble, won't you? I don't want you to risk your--I don't know, your purity or whatever gets put at risk if you sleep with someone that isn't your wife or husband." He moved his lips lower to kiss and suck at her other breast after pulling her shirt down. "And...and this is all happening at once, and I'm--Can't we slow down or--wait!"

Kurt's fingers left her breast and she felt them rubbing up and down her slit. "Surely you don't think I'm a virgin, liebling?" He chuckled softly. "I've lived a very...ah, colorful life. But with you, I lost all of my usual confidence." He curled his finger inside of her to rub a velvety spot that left her gasping. "I just...ach, how can I describe it?" He thought back to every time he would see ____ and get this sudden urge to tear off her clothes, wrap his tail around her bare thigh, and pin her down even if she tried to push him away--only to snap back to reality and realize what a horrible, covetous, sinful desire he'd had. He hadn't ever felt this before with someone he loved. Part of him prayed that it was merely his father's influence trying to draw him to a darker path. It couldn't come from within him. It couldn't solely be his own sin. "I'm so sorry, ____. You bring out the devil in me..."

"Schatz," he moaned, "You're not wearing anything here..." His fangs grazed her hardened nipple and he felt her entrance clench involuntarily around his fingertips. "Were you waiting for me to come? Have you been thinking of me the way I've spent so many nights thinking of you?"

Before ____ could protest, tell him he was wrong, to listen to her, he moved his thumb in circles around their clit and slowly eased one finger inside of her warmth. "____, you feel so, so nice," Kurt sighed with a smile. "I'm almost worried that you're melting around me. And your kleine Perle..." He smirked and twirled his thumb even faster, making ____ buck her hips and squeal underneath him. He wrapped his other arm around her from behind to arch her back and reach even deeper inside of her while she grew louder and her breaths got more shallow and rapid. God, she felt so wonderful and he was only using his hands and mouth to explore her.

Once he felt her slick starting to run down his wrist, he bit his lip and kissed her cheeks and lips again. "I can't wait any longer. I need you--us, together." He slowly pulled his finger out of her and put it to his lips to taste her "honey" and marveled at just how sweet she was dripping on his tongue like this. "I'll confess tomorrow," he promised, leaning down to continue kissing her neck and collarbone as he aligned his cock with her slick lower lips. "I'll repent, I'll find a way to atone for what I'm doing." His voice broke as he entered her inch-by-inch. "Please, tell me the truth, Schatz. You haven't spoken since you told me to wait." He looked down at her and two faint trails of tears shone on his dark azure cheeks as he smiled. "I'm harming you in the worst way possible, aren't I. You still want me to stop, don't you?"

____ felt a lump form in her throat as he looked at her and he stilled himself after bottoming out inside of her. This was all too sudden, even if she did have feelings for him. Why couldn't he have just listened to her and stopped after that kiss? Why couldn't he have just waited to confess to her until tomorrow? Why did this feel so good when she felt like curling into a ball and crying? "This isn't...I didn't want it to be like this," she whimpered, starting to cry.

He held her close and rubbed her shoulders as she clung to him for comfort. That dark sinister part of his mind crept out again, and even as he was trying to console her he started to rock his hips. He felt her trembling lips against him, and then felt them press against his chest. Then his collarbone. Then his neck. He pulled back in shock and stared down at her as he moved a bit faster. She had tears running down her face just like him, but her eyes were half-lidded with something else besides exhaustion. She slowly blinked up at him and reached up to touch his cheek. "But I still really, really like you," she confessed in a thick voice. "And hate you. And...God, fuck, please don't stop now, Kurt!"

Tears fell onto the wooden floor of the confessional. "I was corrupted, and now I've corrupted her. I seduced her, I--I don't know how or why I did it, why I didn't try harder to resist whatever is inside me! I should have done more, I never should have..."

Kurt crashed his lips against hers and pushed her thighs up to reach deeper inside of her delectably tight cunt. "I'm so, so sorry," he moaned, "Engele, you feel so wonderful--"

"Apologize tomorrow," ____ shot back, sniffling and moving her hips in line with his pace. She can hate him tomorrow, he can beg for a forgiveness she can never truly give him, but right now she needed to chase this high with him. "Please, just please keep going, don't stop, Kurt..."

She wrapped her arms around him as he went faster and faster, biting her lip and hating herself for smiling as he repeatedly pounded a sensitive spot inside of her. The tip of his tail grazed her thighs as it involuntarily bobbed back and forth, almost like it had a mind of its own as Kurt reached his peak. The two of them came with a sharp gasp, and Kurt muffled her keening cry with his mouth as she twitched and squeezed around him like a vice.

The two of them eventually broke the kiss and Kurt wrapped his arms around her in a sickeningly loving embrace after slowly setting her thighs back down onto the bed. Neither of them spoke and Kurt had continued to stroke her sides gently until, hours later, she fell asleep. He closed his eyes and resolved to go to the church tomorrow. He had to confess, he had to seek guidance on how to right such a terrible wrong--and, if it were the case, he needed to find out of somehow Azazel or some other dark force was somehow influencing or possessing him. If the priests couldn't help, then perhaps Jean or the Professor could help cure whatever was wrong with him.

That shadow left him with one more thought before he drifted off into a dreamless sleep. Hell was an eternity of flames meant to torture the wicked, but the warmth and softness of ____ around him seemed worth condemning his soul.

#tw: dubcon #tw: noncon #.nightcrawler #.x-men #yandere nightcrawler #yandere x-men #tw: religious themes #fem darling

[erathene]

F*ck It (Part 1)

Summary: Strider pays a visit to the Prancing Pony where you are working as a barmaid, but all does not seem well with the wandering ranger. You do your best to fix it. 

Word count: 2.1k

Pairing: Aragorn x Female!Reader 

Warnings: LOTS of swearing and cursing, you have been warned. Intoxicated behaviour and alcohol. Mention of menstruation in a humorous manner.

AO3 Link: F*ck It

Author's note: Special thanks goes to the members of @fellowshipofthefics discord group (vamp_ress, prettea and spider__lilies) who helped me explore new ideas when my inspiration dried up 😊 Also thanks to DocFigureskaterM for being my beta reader. I tried a completely new writing style with this fic; my toddler son is starting to understand words now, and I have had to really watch my mouth around him! 😂 So this fic was born out of trying not to use curse words in front of a 16 month old haha.

Part 2 has now been posted!

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The Prancing Pony was busy tonight. All of the parlours were crammed with punters, and the air that lingered around the bar was thick and heavy with sweat and drink and pipeweed smoke. 

You picked your way carefully through the crowds, collecting glasses as you went. You didn't mind bar work, but it's not like you had much choice. You couldn't shoe a horse, your needlecraft was shit, and you had fuck-all artistic flair for floristry, so that eliminated about half the jobs going in Bree. You didn't have two pennies to rub together, so that ruled out buying your own land to rear livestock or grow produce to sell. Fuck it, tavern work would do. It kept your belly full and a roof over your head, so it would do nicely. 

Barliman Butterbur, the Gaffer, ensured you were paid fairly, but it wasn't a high-earning job. It wasn't a glamorous job either; your days mostly consisted of emptying piss pots from the upstairs chambers, scrubbing the parlour floors, or wiping out the tankards ready for the evening drinkers. And drink they did. As night fell, the punters came, downing pints and pints of ale and cider and anything else that could be poured into a flagon. Some were regulars, loose-lipped locals trading gossip and louts one-upping each other in pointless contests to see who could win in an arm wrestle or a brawl out back. Some were strangers, passing through from abroad or travelling merchants wanting nothing more than a bite to eat and a soft bed for the night.

And then there was him.

You rarely traded conversation with the punters. The less they knew of you and you of them, the better. Moving mouths made idle hands, so your Mam used to say, and she was absolutely right because striking up a conversation with any punter would mean you had less time to get through all your cleaning. But you knew his name, Strider, and you knew he was a ranger. He wasn't a regular, though he frequented the Pony about once a month, and neither was he a stranger, for he knew your name and was on first name terms with the Gaffer too. He was just Strider. He was tall, towering over most men, with a mop of dark hair and curtain bangs that occasionally hid his grey eyes. Grey eyes that were never cold despite the colour. Broad shouldered, a bow and bedroll usually strapped to his back, and a large-as-fuck weapon at his belt. He wore a mottled green cloak with a hood, the type that you'd use if you wanted to fuck off into a forest and never be found again. Whenever he turned up, he had a ragged look about him, like he'd been through a bush backwards and had a good story to tell about it too. 

You would never admit it, even if you were on your fucking deathbed looking at the lord creator himself. But if you had to describe your "type", it would be Strider.

So it's no surprise when your heart stuttered for a microsecond as soon as his giant mud-soaked leather boot stepped over the threshold. He'd been gone for a while and it had been months since he was last here. Not that you were counting the days of his absence like some lovesick maiden awaiting the return of her knight in shining armour. Fuck that shit. 

Normally, Strider would ask for a half-pint of the local cider, take it to his favourite table in the corner of the bar, and settle himself comfortably, retrieving his pipe and tobacco from his travelling pack. Fuck, if there was a sign you'd worked here too long, knowing his exact routine was probably it. You readied a half-size tumbler as he approached the bar.

"An ale today, y/n" he said, placing a fistful of coins on the bar in front of you. "And make it a full pint, if you would be so kind."

That was.. odd. You did as instructed, like a good tavern girl, pouring dark amber liquid into a larger flagon. As the container filled, you noted Strider looked more roughed up than he normally did; flecks of mud clung to his skin and hair along with perhaps a fortnight's worth of grime, the filth on his palms and between his fingers would have rivalled that of any gardener, and you'd bet your last copper his clothes hadn't seen the inside of a washbasin in over a month. Placing the tankard down in front of the man, you took just one coin from his pile. "The ale's no dearer since your last visit, Strider," you commented with one eyebrow raised and a glance at his gold. But he paid you no mind whatsoever; the flagon you had handed him moments ago was almost vertical as he downed the pint. 

"Another," he croaked, planting the empty flagon on the bar beside the coins that remained. You poured another from the same barrel. The second pint disappeared almost as quickly as the first, and was soon followed by a third.

Upon ordering his fourth drink in what felt like as many minutes, you slammed your hands on the bar and looked him dead in the eye. "What the fuck's the matter with you?" you asked, not bothering with pleasantries. His grey eyes met yours for a fleeting second before he looked away. You thought you caught a look of shame in those eyes before he broke contact, as though he knew he was getting a telling-off for his behaviour but he was going to carry on anyway and fuck everyone else. Very strange indeed. This was unlike the Strider you'd had dealings with in the past, who would politely ask you to share any tales you'd heard from locals over diluted cider and a puff of pipeweed. This Strider seemed out of sorts, as though he was holding onto thoughts and feelings about fuck knows what, and all he could do to control it was to force more alcohol down his throat, to drown it and make sure it never saw the light of day. You'd seen this behaviour in other punters plenty of times before. But not in Strider. Strider was always in control, always predictable. 

You already knew you weren't getting an answer to your question. Fuck, you shouldn't have even asked in the first place. Another punter down the bar started growling loudly about the lack of service. Resisting the urge to tell the prick to pipe down and wait his turn, you quickly refilled Strider's flagon. 

For the rest of the night, your work mostly kept your attention away from the ranger. The fleeting glances you did make in his direction confirmed to you that he continued to drink, and the more he consumed the more he leaned into the bar for support. As the punters began to clear off for home or to their chambers upstairs, Strider was one of the final ones who remained. When the Gaffer called last orders, the ranger had folded his arms across the bar with his head rested upon them. You approached him slowly, ready to take away the many empty flagons that surrounded him. 

"I'll.. need a room, y/n", he said as you neared, his words slurring together.

You sighed. Fuck's sake, Strider. "We're full for the night, I'm afraid." If the fucking fool had decided that earlier rather than at last orders, he might have a bed upstairs by now.

Strider groaned in disappointment. Clearly this wasn't what he wanted to hear, but there was fuck all you could do about it. He made to rise from the bar, but his movements were completely uncoordinated, and he staggered sideways, catching himself by the edges of his fingertips on the solid bar. He glanced at you with a confused expression, probably wondering why the world was spinning and why there were six of you standing before him. You'd seen that look before in patrons who couldn't hold their drink. Seemed that Strider was one such patron.

Fuck. With every room upstairs taken, the only option for Strider would be to sleep on the street, and if he was lucky enough to find an alleyway that wasn't covered in pig shit and piss, he'd likely find himself mugged for his remaining coin or possibly worse. Bree was often subject to petty crime with so many people coming and going. Were you resolved to letting this man wonder the roadways until he collapsed in surrender to his drunken stupor? You gritted your teeth. The Gaffer would be locking up soon, he was already rearranging empty chairs and stools at the other end of the room. 

You glanced back at Strider. Actually, the street was not his only option. There was a free bed upstairs: yours. 

You moved quickly whilst the Gaffer was distracted. Yanking Strider's arm, you pulled the drunkard to his feet, catching his dead weight as he failed to remain upright. You both awkwardly shuffled to the narrow stairway that led to the upper floors of the inn. Strider was muscular and well-built, and that made him fucking heavy. Lifting and shifting barrels over the years here was paying off though as you managed to get him upstairs with only minor difficulty. As soon as you crossed the threshold into your dimly-lit and modest bed chamber, Strider doubled over and vomited violently onto the hardwood floor. 

A stream of curse words flew from your mouth, the likes of which would make your Mam turn in her grave, god rest her soul. This was one extra cleaning job you could fucking do without. Fucking Strider and his lightweight stomach, no wonder he never strayed from his fucking cider if this was how he got after one too many ales. You dropped him ungraciously onto your single bed in the corner of the room where he curled up into a ball on top of the blankets, his hands cupping his head. You took a deep breath and tried to calm your emotions. The fool was probably suffering enough right now.

"Wait here whilst I get something to clean this mess up," you instructed him. "And any more where that came from can go in there," you added, kicking an empty bucket in his direction. Strider grunted in acknowledgement, but did not move.

It took you over twenty minutes to mop up the mess and scrub the stink of bile out of the floor. On your way back downstairs to return the mop and bucket, you grabbed a couple of flagons and filled them with fresh water. Strider would probably wake up with a giant fucking hangover tomorrow and he would need liquids that were alcohol-free. Once back upstairs, you tried to hand one of the water-filled jugs to Strider, only for him to crudely bat away your hand.

"It's water, you moron. Drink." You were not in the mood for his shit. You were already facing the prospect of sleeping on your own floor and this thought left your bedside manner extremely lacking. But you tried, adding "you'll feel like utter shit tomorrow if you don't."

Strider lifted his head from your feather pillow. Taking the flagon, he uttered his thanks before drinking deeply. "I s'pose you think I'm a complete fool," he slurred  as he returned the goblet to you.

Before you could respond, there was a harsh knock at your door. "Y/n! Are you in there?"

Shit, it was the Gaffer. He was probably wondering where you had got to whilst you'd been spending time tending to the drunk fucker sprawled on your bed. You pulled a throw from your laundry heap and tossed it over Strider to hide his form, before hurrying to open the door.

"Sorry Gaffer, I was just.. changing," you said quickly. The Gaffer looked you up and down with one eyebrow raised, clearly seeing you remained in the same basic dress and apron that you'd been wearing all evening. "My underwear," you added hastily. "Y'know.. Women's problems." You flashed him a friendly smile. He wouldn't ask any more questions after that. 

It was well into the wee small hours when at last, your shift was done for the night and you were able to ascend the stairs. You pushed the door to your chamber open and found Strider exactly where you had left him, his dark head poking out from under the blanket. He was snoring softly. Peering into the bucket, you saw with satisfaction that he hadn't lost any more contents of his stomach, nor had he made any more mess anywhere else. This was good. You pulled a spare quilt from your solitary cupboard and laid it out over the floorboards. Sinking to your knees without even bothering to change clothes, you wrapped half the quilt over yourself and within minutes entered a dreamless sleep. 

#aragorn x y/n #aragorn x reader #aragorn x you #aragorn #lord of the rings #lotr fanfic #fanfiction

[goldenlaurelleaveswrites]

Juleka vs. the Forces of the Universe

Juleka vs. the Forces of the School Dance i

Juleka vs. the Forces of the Universe (AO3)

Hello everyone!!! I wanted to start out by thanking you all for your ongoing support and patience! This has taken me far longer than I had hoped, as I wanted to have this fic done before 2024. Obviously, that didn't happen 😂😅 I ended up needing to take a break to rest after my fall semester because it was super intense. I also had to take some time away from creative writing for personal reasons. your support, patience, and kindness has meant the absolute world to me, and I can't thank you enough for it.

Another reason why this chapter has taken so long is because chapter 17 was becoming massive (as in 20k words and counting). I debated this decision quite a bit, but in the end I've decided to break chapter 17 into smaller parts so that's why the chapter count has gone up 😅😅😅 It's much easier to revise shorter chapters, and I think it's probably easier to read shorter chapters too. This also gives me a bit more time to finish what is now the second last chapter.

I need to give a huge shoutout to the LBSC crew for their ongoing support, and for talking me off the ledge multiple times when it came to this chapter. And also just for being there for me the past few months. And again, another huge thank you to all of you for your support.

I Hope you enjoy the chapter!

ps. if I don't respond to comments on this chapter it's not because I'm ignoring any of you, it's because I don't entirely trust myself not to accidentally spoil something 😂😅

A thousand akumas fluttered in the pit of her stomach as she put the lid back on her lipstick with a satisfying click. She sat back in her chair and sighed. She was used to the feeling of butterflies, except right now it felt like there were silver and black akumas fluttering around insider her, and that mixture was a new feeling. 

On one hand, tonight was the night. The night Luka and Mari were going to the dance. Together. 

But on the other hand… she grimaced as the reminder for the ‘Operation Fairytale Ball Phone Meeting’ pinged on her phone. Usually they all got ready for dances together, but Marinette had needed the extra time to put the finishing touches on her dress and it hadn’t felt right for the rest of them to get together without her. But, Alya had wanted to go over the plans for the dance one more time, so Alya had scheduled a phone meeting… 

She had fifteen minutes until the call. 

She silenced the reminder on her phone, and turned her attention back to her reflection. The purple in her hair was nice and vivid, and the waves she had put in her hair added a touch of glamour. And her makeup looked amazing, if she did say so herself. She had gone for a soft but still vampy look with plum and black kohl softly smoked out across her lids and deep plum lips. She smiled as she tilted her head to the side, watching the way the light caught her highlight. Those makeup masterclasses had definitely paid off. In more ways than one. 

She straightened her head. And then frowned. 

Her bangs had slipped across her eyes again, obscuring her face. 

Usually, she liked wearing her hair that way. It had started as a security thing. Her hair had acted as a shield to hide her away from the rest of the world. And there were times she still needed that. 

But tonight… 

Tonight she didn’t want to hide. 

She reached for a bobby pin, but her hand stopped halfway to the tin of them she kept on her dressing table. Originally, she had planned on wearing her hair down, the way she normally did. But then she wouldn’t really be able to show off the back of her dress… 

And given what Alya had planned for the night—to say nothing of the schemes she was positive Alya had hidden up her sleeve—she could do with a touch of Tigress. 

She grabbed her brush and a black satin scrunchie, and made quick work of pulling her hair up into an elegant, high ponytail. Once the ponytail was secured, she grabbed a couple of bobby pins and pinned her bangs just enough so that they didn’t cover her eyes, but still framed her face to keep an element of drama. 

That was much better. 

“Hey Jules, have you seen the- Jules. You look beautiful.” 

She was unable to control the grin on her face as she turned to the door of their room. Luka was standing in the hallway, he was wearing his good jeans, but his hair was still damp and he was wearing a t-shirt. But even though he wasn’t ready, she couldn’t help but preen under his words. 

“Thank you.” 

A sappy grin was making its way onto his face. “I’m really proud of you.” 

“But I didn’t do anything.”

“Yes you have.”

“No I-“

“Look at you,” he said quietly as he made his way to stand behind her, and direct her attention back to her reflection. 

“It’s just hair…” she mumbled, trying to fight the growing warmth in her cheeks. 

“You and I both know it’s not just hair. And it’s more than that. You’ve been-“

“A pain in your neck?” she asked with a laugh.

“You always are. But you’ve been more sure of yourself lately. More confident. You’ve been coming into your own. It’s nice to see.” 

“You’re such a sap, you’re going to make me ruin my makeup,” she mumbled, waving a hand in front of her eyes to keep them from tearing up. Once she was sure she wasn’t going to cry, she stood and hugged Luka tightly. He returned it just as fiercely. 

Once they broke apart, she smacked his arm. Lightly. Ish. “Why aren’t you ready yet, dummy?” 

He chuckled, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes. “I need to iron my shirt but I can’t find the iron anywhere.” 

“Check the greenhouse, last time I saw it Ma was using it as a door stop up there”

“Figures,” he mumbled under his breath. He was halfway out the room when he turned back. “I really am proud of you, you know.” 

   “I’m proud of you too.” After all, he was finally not stepping back. “Now go,” she said, smiling as she shooed him out. “You need to get ready, you are not making me late tonight.” 

“I thought it was fashionable to be late?” he called from the hall. 

“Shows what you know about fashion!” she quipped back before turning back to her mirror and began adjusting the pins in her hair so that everything was just right.  

Once she was satisfied, she added a final spritz of hairspray and then began packing her supplies for the evening into her clutch. Lipstick, powder, keys, hand sanitizer and cream, and emergency candy. Just in case. The finishing touches were her jewelry—the black lace choker she had made for herself and a pair of amethyst earrings—and a couple of spritzes of her favourite violet perfume. 

As Roarr would say, she had her war paint and armour on, and she was ready for battle. 

And not a moment too soon. 

The screen of her phone lit up with an incoming call, the icon for the Adrienette group chat flashing on the screen. 

“Hey,” she said once she had tapped to accept the call. 

“Hi bijou!” Rose’s voice came from the screen as the group chat icon filled the screen. Rose had insisted it would be a voice only call since they weren’t all getting ready together, that way that could all surprise each other with their finished looks. 

“Hi, Juleka,” Mylène said. 

“Hey,” Alix’s voice crackled to life over the phone.  

“Hi, Alix!” Rose chirped. “Are you excited?” 

“Sure,” came Alix’s nonchalant response. “I mean, it’s a dance. There’s only so much to really be excited about-” 

“Juleka?” Mylène’s voice cut Alix off. “My mascara is really clumpy! How do I fix it?” 

“Wipe the excess off your wand with a tissue and then brush it through. If you have a lash comb, brush it through your lashes too. That should break some of them up.”

“You’re a life saver, thank you.” 

“Are we going to get started, or what?” She had thought at first that maybe Alya hadn’t been on the call—a foolish thought—but it seemed Alya was still officially not talking to her. Which, after last night… she wasn’t entirely sure it was a good or bad thing. 

Either way, it was an awkward thing. 

Rose and Mylène had been in a tizzy all day, trying to get them to talk to each other. Alix had made a few attempts, but after a while had clearly given up and resorted to sighing and rolling her eyes with great exasperation. But Alya… Alya was stubborn. Marinette and the rest of the class had picked up on it too, except Adrien that was. Even Bustier had noticed something weird was going on.  

Honestly, it felt more than safe to assume that the only reason she was even included in this pre-game call, so to speak, was because the rest of the girls hadn’t given Alya a choice. Looking at the screen, Rose had been the one to initiate the call. 

“If we have to…” Alix groaned. 

“We do. Nothing can go wrong tonight,” Alya said firmly. 

Well, they were sort of in agreement there. 

They were just… diametrically opposed… 

“So, I just texted Marinette,” Alya continued, “She just got out of the shower so she’ll only just be starting drying and doing her hair, which means we all have time to get there and get everything into place…” 

Despite the fact that she could have listed the schemes backwards in her sleep, she listened carefully to Alya’s every word. She mentally sifted through every word and intonation, looking for any potential clues for what other schemes might come into play. Because she knew Alya. And after their… talk last night, there was no way Alya was showing up without a fresh set of schemes ready to go. 

Which meant she needed to be ready for anything.  

But she was feeling apprehensive about the evening for more reasons than Alya was giving her. 

An odd clash of elation and dread was brewing in her stomach like a hurricane. She knew all the schemes that had been plotted at the meetings she was present for. She knew Alya undoubtedly had more schemes that she didn’t know about ready to set in motion. She knew she had to be and was ready to deal with those schemes. 

She also knew Luka and Marinette were going. 

Together. 

Of their own choosing. 

But she wasn’t expecting much beyond that in the sense that, well… school dances were… school dances. They were fun. But they weren’t the magical and romantic settings that movies and tv likes to play them off as. So while she was elated that they were going together, she couldn’t see much more than that happening tonight. 

Apart from all the stupid and ridiculous schemes she would have to derail, that is. 

As much as she wanted Luka and Marinette to stop being idiots, they were idiots. Sure, she could give them gentle nudges, but tonight, her priority was to just let them enjoy themselves. They had already taken one step away from idiocy by going to the dance together. Tonight was about letting them just enjoy their one small step towards reason.   

But even knowing that…  she just couldn’t shake the feeling that something big was going to happen tonight. 

“School dances are just so romantic!” Rose squealed, breaking her from her thoughts.

***

The thing about school dances was that they were just about the furthest thing from romantic. 

The music was always too loud for an enclosed space, and the base too high. And the music choice was always just what was most popular. Which was fine. There was nothing  wrong with music being popular. It was just that Bob Roth had bought XY’s place to the top of the charts, so the playlist by default, was dominated by XY’s  music- or rather, the music he had stolen.

To say nothing of the smell. The school dances were always held in the gym, which perpetually smelled like a phys-ed class. And the boy’s locker room. Even the smell of strong perfume and cheap cologne couldn’t mask the eau de body odour. Somehow, it just made it worse. 

Awkwardness permeated the very air; whether it was people trying to ask their crushes to dance, or people worrying over what they wore or who came with who. And of course there were the chaperones. It was impossible for anything to be romantic when M. Damocles and Mme. Mendeliev were watching the dance floor like a pair of hawks, on the lookout for any inappropriate behaviour. 

How could anyone think school dances were romantic?

“This is going to be so romantic!” Rose’s squeal was high pitched enough to be heard over the music without shouting. 

Well, anyone except Rose. 

“Rose! Juleka!” She turned at the sound of Ivan’s voice, which somehow managed to travel through the pounding base. Ivan and Mylène were weaving through the crowd towards them. Nathaniel was trailing behind them, in the wake Ivan left as people parted to let him and Mylène pass.

“Are Alya and Alix here yet?” Mylène asked as she joined their group, almost shouting to make herself heard over the music. “Rose, you look lovely! And-” Mylène’s eyes widened a bit as she looked at her. “Juleka! Your hair” 

“It looks really nice like that,” Ivan said with a shy smile. 

“You look gorgeous!”

“Doesn’t she?” Rose asked brightly, taking a firmer grip on her arm as she leaned against her. 

Her cheeks were suddenly hot and she had to remind herself not to hide her face in her hands given she couldn’t rely on her hair to hide her blush. “Thanks. You all look great too!” she added, gesturing to Ivan, who had a small, faux sunflower clipped to his shirt to match the floral print of Mylène’s dress. Mylène had twisted her hair up into a bun, which was also adorned with a sunflower clipped into it to frame a loose tendril by the side of her face. “You too, Nathaniel,” she added as she glanced at him. He cleaned up pretty good.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice almost lost to the crowd. “Oh, I see Marc! If you guys don’t mind, I’m going to go…” 

“Of course!” Rose squealed, grinning. “We’ll see you on the dance floor?” 

Nathaniel nodded with a smile before slipping away. 

“So…” Ivan said slowly, “I know you all had some sort of plan but if Alya and Alix aren’t here yet, maybe you and I could dance?” he asked, turning to Mylène. 

Mylène was just nodding when a familiar voice carried through the music. 

“I bet you I could dance for an hour straight!” 

“I bet you would trip over your feet in the first ten minutes,” she heard Alix say as she caught a flash of pink hair moving towards them. 

“Yeah? Well how about we-”

“Absolutely not!” Rose said indignantly as Kim and Alix joined their quickly growing group. “This is a dance. It’s supposed to be romantic. And bets aren’t romantic!” 

“Thank you, Rose” Max sighed as he stopped to stand on her other side before adding under his breath, “I think.” 

“Aww, c’mon! What’s wrong with a little fun- Whoa! Juleka! I don’t think I’ve ever seen both your eyes before!” 

She couldn’t help but chuckle at how utterly Kim he was. Before she could reply to what she assumed was his attempt at a complement, Rose opened her mouth. 

“And?” Rose asked, her high voice holding an edge of danger. 

Kim’s eyes widened as they darted to Rose, in all her swirly, pink, white kitten-print glory and swallowed. “You look really pretty! I just- I wasn’t expecting you to- I mean, you never wear your hair up…” he said, tripping over himself as he tried to both clarify his compliment and appease Rose. 

She nudged Rose gently with her elbow and gave her a look before she smiled at Kim. “Thanks. You look pretty good yourself. You all do,” she added, glancing to Max and Alix as Kim puffed his chest out in pride. 

“Oh, hey Luka!”  

“Hey, Kim. Everyone” Luka said just loud enough to be heard over the music as he slipped between her and Max, shooting Max a grateful smile as the shorter boy made room for him. 

“Did you escape in one piece?” she asked.

“Escape?” Ivan asked, his brows furrowing. “From who?” 

“Damocles cornered him when we got here,” she snorted. “He wanted to know how lycée is going for him,” she added with a smirk as Luka groaned. 

“I feel like he and his sister have a bet going about me and Dingo or something. He kept asking about our science classes and showcase performances…” he said, his voice trailing off as he oh so subtly scanned the crowd around them. “So has anyone seen Marinette yet?” 

“No sign of her yet,” she murmured before gently elbowing his side and shooting him a smirk. She hadn’t called him a ‘sap’ out loud. She wasn’t that mean. Besides, she didn’t need to say it for him to get the message… 

He rolled his eyes before turning back to the conversation. He was lucky the lighting in the gym hid the pink tinge to his ears. For the most part… 

She turned back to the conversation as well, which had somehow worked its way back to Kim and Alix trying to have a competition that Rose wouldn’t outright destroy them for for having at the dance. But she only listened with half an ear, if that. Luka was there to help keep Rose in check should she decide Kim and Alix were ruining the ‘romance’ of the dance too much. 

And she had other things to worry about… 

Surreptitiously, she scanned the crowd, looking for any signs of Marinette. And crossing all her fingers that Marinette would arrive before Alya… though she wasn’t holding her breath… 

The crowd ebbed and flowed around them in a blur of coloured lights and party clothes. Their group was far enough off to the side that they weren’t being overrun by the people dancing, but they were still close enough to the action. She caught sight of Nathaniel and Marc dancing on the fringes of the dance floor. A girl in a yellow dress—similar to the one Chloe had worn— crossed her line of vision, holding a cup of punch, which only served as a reminder of one of the more harebrained schemes Alya had come up with for ‘Operation Fairytale Ball.’  The thought of the schemes left a bitter taste in her mouth, and a lead weight in the pit of her stomach. 

Things had been bad enough when she was only contending with one set of schemes… but after last night… there was no way Alya didn’t have contingency plans… 

Another song passed with anxious anticipation. And then she saw it. The unmistakeable flash or orange by the doors to the gym. 

“Alya” Rose shouted, standing up on her tip toes to be seen past Kim, “over here!” 

Whether she had actually heard Rose, or more likely, seen Rose’s glitter clutch as she waved it and Ivan and Kim’s large forms in the crowd, Alya turned in the direction of their group. And then started weaving through the crowd towards them with a determination that didn’t bode well for her plans for the night… 

“You look great, Alya!” Rose chirped once she had joined their quickly growing group. 

“Thanks,” Alya said, flashing a grin. “You all do too,” she said, smiling to all of them. But then Alya’s gaze landed on her. Alya’s hazel eyes widened in surprise for a moment, the way everyone’s had when they had first seen her with her hair up and away from her face. But then they had narrowed. And while she had still smiled at her, it was rather frigid.

And she hadn’t said anything to her, so it seemed like Alya was still dead set on the whole no talking thing.  

“I like how you did your hair,” she said to Alya. And it was true. Alya’s hair looked great. 

Alya, for her part, didn’t seem sure how to respond. On one hand, Alya still seemed determined not to talk to her, but on the other… 

“Thanks,” Alya said slowly, her face guarded. “Yours looks nice too,” she added, with just the slightest hint of suspicion detectable in her voice. But it was clear as day in her eyes. And then Alya turned to look at Luka, and her eyes widened all over again as soon as she saw what Luka was wearing. 

Alya made a strangled, chocking sound that she quickly tried to cover in a cough. 

“You ok?” Mylène asked worriedly, taking a step towards Alya to place a hand on her back. 

Alya nodded, “Fine,” she said hoarsely before blinking to do a double take at Luka. Luka blinked at her, his face shifting into something guarded, and Alya’s eyes narrowed again, her mouth setting into a grim line as her gazed flickered back to land on her. 

She should have known Alya would take his outfit choice as a sign of her ‘betrayal…’ 

Luka nudged her shoulder. “I’m going to go get something to drink. Want anything?”  His voice sounded almost tinny through the base.  

“No, but you should-“  He was gone before she could finish telling him he should wait until Marinette go there. Now that Alya was here… Marinette could show up at any time, and she didn’t like the idea of Luka going off on his own and leaving Alya with an opening. 

 “So, where’s Nino?” Kim asked, seemingly wonderfully oblivious—as usual—to everything. “We need some good song recommendations for a dance off and he’s the go to guy for that kind of stuff.” 

“He isn’t playing-”

“Well, yeah,” Kim laughed, “that’s why that other guy is up there,” Kim said as he nodded to the hired DJ. “But I’m sure we can make requests.” 

“That’s true…” Alya said, turning to Alix as she pulled her phone out of her purse “But remember-”

“I know, I know,” Alix groaned, holding up her hands. “But they’re not even here yet.” 

“Who isn’t here-” Kim started to ask. 

“Nino just texted, he and Adrien are almost here,” Alya said as she read something off her phone. 

“I know!” Alya shouted over the music.“And Marinette should be here any minute! And-“ Alya began frantically waving. “Nino and Adrien are here!”

“Do you want to dance?” Rose grabbed her hand, beaming up at her as she tugged her towards the dance floor. 

She wanted to. She really wanted to. But she also didn’t want whatever Alya had planned to go ahead. Which meant she needed to be ready for-

“Hey dudes.” Nino was grinning as he and Adrien joined their group. But then he caught her eye. His eyes widened, dnd then his gaze dropped, like he couldn’t look her in the eye. Nino had always been a bit of an open book. Subtlety wasn’t exactly his forte. 

And this all but confirmed her worst suspicions. 

He was definitely in on whatever Alya had cooked up. 

“You look great, Adrien!” Alya said. 

Adrien, who had looked morose and like he had every intention of at least half-sulking the entire evening, looked up. “Oh, thanks.” 

“Yeah, you clean up good, man! Do you think you can dance in that getup? Because Alix and I were going to- oof” 

Kim’s obvious attempts to get Adrien to join in on the impromptu dance off were quickly cut off by Rose’s elbow. 

“I probably could, but they’re not really made for that kind of dancing.” 

“Yeah, Kim. Those kinds of clothes are for dances like the waltz. You know, the romantic kinds? There’s nothing more romantic than a waltz! Just imagine, a candlelight waltz, or a waltz under the city lights,” Rose sighed dreamily. “There’s nothing that could be more romantic than that.” 

“Yeah? You really think?” Adrien asked, immediately perking up. Even after their fight, he was still concerned about that? 

“There’s Marinette!” Mylène’s voice was almost lost to the music. 

Bewilderment crossed Alya’s face. “Her dress…” 

She whirled around, tugging Rose along with her. 

Marinette wasn’t wearing green to match Adrien’s eyes, as per her prediction. And despite Alya’s suggestion—demand more like. 

“She looks gorgeous!” Beside her Rose practically swooned. “She looks like a princess!”

Marinette’s dress was simple; a sweet heart neckline and spaghetti straps, with a full and voluminous skirt made up of what looked like layer upon layer of gauzy fabric. It was a soft shade of blue, caught somewhere between summer skies and calm seas. It was the blue of where the horizon met the sea. It was the blue that lived somewhere between the shade of Luka’s eyes and Marinette’s. A simple silver pendant that looked remarkably light a floral treble cleft matched her shoes. 

And her hair was  down. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen Marinette with her hair down; she always had it pulled back, even at sleepovers. But now it cascaded over her shoulders in loose waves. 

It made her look… freer. 

Rose was right. She did look like a princess. She was about to elbow Luka in the ribs when she remembered he had gone to get a drink. 

Shoot. 

“Wow, Marinette looks great!” 

Shoot shoot shoot shoot shoot. 

Now was not the time for Adrien to start noticing what he was missing out on. 

Despite her initial reaction to Marinette’s dress, or more specifically she assumed, its colour, Alya smiled smugly. “She sure does,” she said. 

“I’ve never seen her with her hair down…” 

“Maybe you should tell her to wear it down more often…” Alya suggested.  

Adrien shrugged blithely. “Maybe, but I like the pigtails. They remind me of Ladybug.” 

There is was. 

Because even with his so-called Lady standing right in front of him, he couldn’t see her, he was so blinded by the scarlet and spots. 

“Hi guys!” Marinette said a little breathlessly as she pushed through the last bit of the crowd standing between her and the rest of the group. 

“Hey,” she said, louder than she usually would so as to be heard over the pounding music. 

Marinette turned to her and the smile that had been gracing her face grew even wider. “Juleka!” she gasped before pulling her into a hug, “you look incredible! I knew that dress would be perfect for you, and the shoes and your hair!” 

“I know, right?” Rose chirped. “I think you should wear heels more often,” Rose added added as Marinette pulled away. 

“And Rose! You look fabulous! You all do!” Marinette squealed as she looked around their group, grinning at everyone. But she was also oh so very obviously looking for someone who wasn’t there. She had to fight back a grin at how transparent Marinette was. “Has anyone seen-” 

“Girl, that dress looks great on you! It really brings out your eyes!” Alya said as she pulled Marinette into a hug. Though she knew Alya had misgivings about the colour Marinette had chosen, the compliment was obviously genuine. Marinette did look incredible, and the colour of her dress made her eyes all the bluer. 

Marinette smiled at Alya as she released the hug. But there was something guarded about her smile still. The way it had been every time she had smiled around Alya the past few days. “Thanks. You look great too.” 

“I can see why this took you so long,” Mylène said as she looked at Marinette’s dress before pulling her into a hug as well, “just how many layers are there in the skirt?” 

“I lost track around seven,” Marinette laughed. “But where’s Luka?” she asked. 

“He went to go get a drink, he should be back any minute,” she replied as Rose pounced on Marinette, enveloping her in a hug. From across their little group, she caught Alya eyeing her suspiciously. 

And really? 

That was what was eliciting that look? 

What did Alya expect her to do? Ignore Marinette’s question? Did she expect all of them to ignore Marinette’s question. 

“Oh, ok-” 

“While you’re waiting for him,” Alya interrupted before turning to Adrien, “You like this song, right Adrien?” 

“Yeah, it’s fine-” 

“Why don’t you two dance? The crowd is so thick it could Luka a while to come back, plus if M. Damocles wants to talk to him again-” 

“But-” 

Another flash of yellow in the crowd caught her eye. This time, it was Chloe. 

Chloe had proven to be very effective in coming between Adrien and Marinette before… she just needed to get Chloe to notice him… 

Behind Chloe, she saw Aurore and Mireille drifting through the crowd. 

She shifted a step to the side so that she was closer to Adrien, and reached up and began to wave. “Mereille, Aurore! Over here!” she called as she continued to wave, keeping her gaze on Chloe’s ponytail. 

She hadn’t expected either of them to hear her, and evidently they hadn’t heard or seen her as they disappeared back into the crowd. But that didn’t matter. Because Chloe had noticed her. And more importantly, Chloe had noticed who was standing with her…

“Oop. Chloe incoming,” Alix said, but it was too late. 

“Adrikins! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” 

“Hey Chloe,” Adrien said, rather unenthusiastically. 

“Aren’t you going to compliment my dress?” Chloe asked as she looped her arm through his and began tugging him towards the dance floor. 

“Where are you going?” 

“To dance. Obviously, Césaire,” Chloe snapped before dragging Adrien off. 

She turned back to the rest of her friends as Adrien and Chloe started dancing, to find Alya glaring at her suspiciously. But she just shrugged innocently. It wasn’t like she had called Chloe over. Alya couldn’t reasonably accuse her of doing anything.

Just Alya couldn’t get mad at her for helping keep Mendeliev from finding some of the scheme…

“Hey, angel,” she said quietly, leaning down to whisper into Rose’s ear, “you and Mylène hid the flowers are under the tables right?” Rose nodded. “Mendeliev is poking around over there.” She straighten up and glanced knowingly towards the tables that had been set up for people to sit at when they needed a break from dancing. Mendeliev wasn’t exactly poking around them, but she was circulating amongst them. And Mendeliev was eagle eyed… 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rose’s eyes widen as she followed her gaze. 

“Alya! Mylène! I need a girl talk real quick!” Rose sad, grabbing them both by the arm and not waiting for a response from either of them. “I’ll be right back, bijou!” Rose called over her shoulder before saying something into Alya’s ear. 

It was hard to tell from behind, but based on the way Alya picked up the pace towards the tables, she felt safe to assume Rose had told her Mendeliev was alarmingly close to the flowers Alya, Mylène, and Rose were supposed to use for one of the schemes. Alya shot a conflicted, yet suspicious glance over her shoulder at her as she hurried towards the tables. 

“Welp,” Alix said, “I guess that means it’s time to check out the snacks.” 

“Wait!” Kim called as Alix began to saunter away, “I thought we were going to have a dance off now! Or! I bet you I can-” whatever it was that Kim had been saying was lost in the noise of the crowd and music as he disappeared after Alix, pulling Nino along with him. 

Max sighed. “I suppose I had better go make sure neither of them choke if they end up having an eating contest or something.” She shot Max a sympathetic smile before he turned and trudged after Alix and Kim. 

“C’mon,” she said to Marinette, nodding towards the end of the gymnasium the refreshment tables were set up in, “let’s go find my brother before Damocles corners him again.” Marinette nodded as she looped her arm through hers. 

Marinette’s brows twisted in confusion as she began to follow her through the crowd. “Before Damocles corners him again? What-” 

“Did you know Damocles has a twin? And that she’s the principal of Saint-Saëns?” 

“There’s two Damocles?” Marinette asked in disbelief as they began to weave through the crowd. 

“I’m afraid so.” 

“You don’t think she also dresses up Knightowl, do you?” 

“I hope not,” she laughed. “Luka hasn’t said anything about it but you never know-” 

“Jules!” She pulled Marinette to a stop as she turned in the direction of the voice. Luka was smiling apologetically at someone she recognized from the year below her as he awkwardly side stepped towards her. “I thought I had lost you Jules- Marinette.” 

She didn’t bother to hide her smile at the look on her brother’s face. She had never seen his eyes so wide. And she swore she could almost hear the sounds of his brain short-circuiting. His plastic cup clattered to the ground, thankfully spilling only a few drops as it had been almost completely empty. “You- you’re beautiful,” he said, almost reverently. 

She glanced at Marinette at the corner of her eye, even as Marinette unhooked her arm from hers to take a step towards Luka. Her smile only grew. Marinette was equally wide-eyed, and she was practically glowing. 

“Your dress, it’s incredible. I knew it would be, but… wow,” Luka laughed breathlessly. 

“Thank you,” Marinette said, almost shyly. “But Luka, your tie.” Marinette reached out as if to touch it, but stopped just short, her hand awkward  hovering a few inches from Luka’s chest.

The sap looked down to grin at the floral tie, which was the same shade of pink as his cheeks and ears, before smiling back up at Marinette. “Yeah, I-“ she watched as her brother reached up to rub the back of his neck as a bashful smile and flush crept across his face. “It made me think of you.”  

***

Phase ’And Their Eyes Will Meet’ had gone off without a hitch. 

At least, from her perspective. 

The best part was, she hadn’t had to do much. And that meant that there was no way Alya could turn around to try and pin the phase’s failure on her. Especially given she had alerted Rose to Mendeliev getting a little too close to the faux flowers for comfort. She had almost felt sorry for Adrien as Chloe dragged him off to dance with her. 

Almost. 

But knowing what she knew… yeah. She didn’t. 

Plus, it got him away from Marinette. And more importantly, Alya. 

And that had given Luka an opening. Of course, the DJ had just had to put on an XY song, which meant Luka and Marinette weren’t dancing… They were hovering by one of the walls of the gym, glasses of the saccharinely sweet punch completely forgotten in their hands as they laughed over something. Sure, they were maybe leaning a bit into wallflower territory, but they were together. 

The other good thing about them standing there by the wall was that it was relatively easy for her to keep an eye on them and the things going on around them as Rose spun her around the dance floor. She would have been more than happy to sit this song out too, to be honest. It wasn’t like any of them had a soft spot for XY. The complete opposite in fact. But even the sourness of the memory of their music being stolen wasn’t enough to dampen Rose’s spirits. She had practically begged to dance, and when had she ever been able to say no to Rose? Especially when she used her puppy eyes… 

“I can’t wait until they play a slow song!” Rose somehow both sighed and squealed as she pulled her into an enthusiastic spin. 

“Neither can I,” she chuckled, blinking as she teetered on her shoes and tried to steady herself. While she was able to keep an eye on everything from the dance floor, keeping everything she saw straight was another thing entirely with Rose leading… 

“Sorry,” Rose said, cringing as she smiled apologetically. 

She couldn’t help but smile at how unabashedly Rose was leaning into the rose-tinted romance she perceived the dance to be. “It’s ok, maybe just a little less… gusto?” 

Rose nodded brightly before tugging her a little closer, her smile dimming a little. “You’re still doing ok?” 

She blinked down at Rose. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

Rose shrugged as they continued to dance. “Yesterday… it was a lot. It was a lot for me and Mylène. Heck, it was even a lot for Alix. We’ve… none of us… well, I don’t remember the last fight any of us had like that. I don’t know if we’ve ever had a fight like that before…”

“It was a lot,” she agreed, nodding slightly. 

“I know we talked it out last night, but  this morning, and during the phone call… Alya wasn’t exactly…”

“Talking to me?” she snorted. Rose nodded, and she sighed. “You and me? We’re alright. I promise,” she added, squeezing Rose’s hand. “Me and Alix and Mylène? We’re fine too. I talked with them both last night.” 

“And you and Alya?” 

She bit back a groan, but some of it still slipped into her sigh. “I don’t know where we are right now. But I know that she needs time to let it go and- what is she doing?” She craned her neck to get a better view of what she had seen over Rose’s shoulder. 

Alya was dancing with Adrien. It was very obvious that Adrien was trying to lead the two in the dance, and it was even more obvious that Alya had taken the lead. And that she was steering him right towards… 

Rose turned to look over her shoulder in the direction she was looking and sighed. “I forgot about that plan…” 

“What plan was that?” 

Rose turned back to her, and to her surprise, rolled her eyes. “It was one of the ones Alya came up with. One that we weren’t supposed to tell you about,” she added apologetically. “We tried to tell her it wouldn’t work but…” Rose’s words trailed off in a shrug. “I suppose she didn’t listen.”

That was an understatement. 

“Hey,” do you think we could maybe take a bit of a rest?” she asked as casually as she could. “I’m getting a little tired, I’m not used to wearing heels and we’ve been dancing for a while…” 

Both were true. They had been dancing for three songs now. And she wasn’t used to wearing heels. 

But that pang of guilt still lodged itself in her chest. She still wasn’t sure what the best course of action would be, with the girls. Telling them everything—well, not everything—or keeping quiet. She knew she would have to decide one way or another eventually. But today- tonight didn’t feel like the right time. 

All she was sure of, was that she needed to keep Alya away from Luka and Marinette. 

“Of course, bijou!” Rose said brightly. “I was getting hungry anyways. Want me to go grab some snacks?” 

“Sure. I’ll wait over with Mari and Luka?” she asked, nodding towards them. 

“That sounds good! I’ll bring snacks for them too, we can all rest for a bit.” 

She pecked Rose on the forehead before they parted ways. Rose heading towards the refreshment table, while she headed into what felt like what was going to turn into a storm… 

***

The music was still pounding. 

The gym was still dimly lit by the lights and the disco ball that had been pulled out from the school storage for the occasion. 

The gym still unfortunately smelled like Kim’s locker. Maybe even worse now that people had been dancing for a while, not to mention topping up their perfume and cologne in the bathroom. She had nearly choked on the clouds of clashing scents when she had ducked into the ladies room. 

And while somewhat expected, it seemed Luka and Marinette were still no closer to stopping their mutual idiocy than they had been when they had arrived at the dance. Or last week. Or last month… 

The only thing that had changed in the past hour of the dance had been… 

She narrowed her eyes as she watched Nino sling an arm around Adrien’s shoulder with a laugh. Normally, that wouldn’t be something she would even bat an eye at. Nino was just like that, always slinging an arm around his friends’ shoulders or ribbing them when joking around, or slinging an arm around Alya’s waist. For all the ways he presented himself as a chill, nonchalant kind of guy, he was actually very touchy-feely and outwardly affectionate to the people close to him. In some ways, he was quite a bit like Luka, being more than content to let things be and happen as they did. 

And he was a terrible liar. And a terrible actor. 

She wouldn’t have batted an eye at the way he had slung his arm around Adrien’s shoulder, if not for the almost mechanical way he had done it. Like it was timed, or he was overthinking it in trying to make it look casual. 

And of course, there was the fact that he had shot a not-so subtle glance at Alya where she was standing over by the refreshment table, sipping a glass of the overly sweet punch. 

She almost frowned before she remembered herself. It wouldn’t do to look suspicious; she was at a dance after all, she should look like she wasn’t trying to unravel Kwami’s only knew how many unknown convoluted schemes Alya had cooked up. She turned her attention away from Alya and back to Mylène. Or rather… at the spot just over Mylène’s head where she could see Nino and Adrien talking. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a whirl of bubblegum and serene blue. Rose and Marinette flew through her field of vision, laughing and giggling as Rose swung them in a twirling dance that wasn’t so much a dance per se as a whirling tornado of pink and blue, puffy chaos. A smile curled across her face at the sight; she had needed to take a break from dancing. She still wasn’t used to wearing heels, so there was only so much dancing she could do at a time. And Marinette had seemed disappointed to not be dancing to this song while Luka was in the bathroom trying to dry off, so of course she had no objections to Rose dancing with Marinette for a while. 

Her smile faltered. 

It had seemed like an accident… 

But she of all people should know things aren’t always what they seem. 

And it was just a little too convenient that Kim’s water had ended up all over Luka. Sure, it was easy to brush off; Kim wasn’t exactly what anyone would call observant. And he had been goofing around—as usual—when he had bumped into Nino and sent the water all over Luka’s side. But the fact that it had been water as opposed to the syrupy punch that had ended up all over Luka’s sleeve made it feel too deliberate. For all her flaws, Alya wasn’t mean. She wouldn’t stoop to completely ruining Luka’s shirt. 

And of course, there was the fact she had been Nino. That, and she had seen Alya give Nino what she assumed was meant to be a covert look a couple of minutes before it happened. 

It was just water. But it was enough Luka had ducked out to the washroom to try and dry off some of the water with paper towels and the hand dryers. 

And now…

Her gaze narrowed in on Nino and Adrien again. Nino was nodding his head towards Rose and Marinette, his movements painfully stiff and awkward looking. She couldn’t tell what he was saying from here—there was no way on earth she could hear him from that far away over the music and frustratingly, lip reading was harder than she had initially thought. But she had a hunch. 

She watched Adrien and Nino as Nino continued to talk with exaggerated motions. For her part, she nodded along as she listened to Mylène talking about her plans for the first couple of weeks of the summer break. Adrien nodded again, and Nino’s face broke out into a look of relief. 

That couldn’t be good… 

The song—one of Clara Nightingale’s recent releases—was still going, but she recognized the lines enough to know it was nearing its end. And- 

Nope. 

Adrien was walking away from Nino now, making his way through the crowd of people dancing with his usual supermodel grace.

That was not good. 

Nino was watching Adrien go as he made his way towards Rose and Marinette. 

It was definitely not good. 

And across the dance floor, Alya was also watching Adrien heading towards Marinette and Rose, grinning like the cat that had just caught the canary. 

“I’m going to go find Luka,” she said, rather abruptly if the look Mylène and Ivan gave her was anything to go by. 

“He’s probably still in the washroom though, right?” Ivan asked. 

Max pushed his glasses up his nose before nodding. “That would be the most probable answer. That cup was quite full-” 

“I said I was sorry!” Kim interjected, earning a look of good-natured ire from Max. 

“But it also doesn’t take that long to dry off a shirt. He can live with a damp sleeve and he’s missing everything.” 

“That is also a good point-” 

She shot Max a smile, and then before anyone else could protest, she slipped away from their group and began fighting her way through the fringes of the dance floor. She was sure to make a show of looking around like she was looking for someone and wasn’t really watching where she was going—lest Alya spot her and decide to make more accusations—as she made a beeline for the spot it looked like she would cross paths with Adrien. 

“Oh, excuse me- oh, hey Juleka.” 

She turned to look down at Adrien—who she was towering over even more than usual in her shoes—with feigned surprise. “Oh, Adrien. Sorry about that, I didn’t see you there.” 

Adrien shot her one of his easy, effortless, supermodel grins. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “So, are you enjoying the dance?” 

She nodded. “I am. Yeah.” Ok. This was awkward. She had been so laser-focused on intercepting Adrien before he could reach Marinette and, she assumed, ask her to dance, that she hadn’t even thought about how she was going to keep him occupied. 

And for all his obliviousness, even Adrien seemed to be picking up on the pure, tangible awkwardness that was filling the air. 

“So…” he said, letting the single word trail off. 

What was she supposed to say? What could she possibly talk to Adrien about now?

Come to think of it, what could she ever possibly talk to just Adrien about? They had nothing in common other than their teachers and classmates! 

“Are you having fun?” The words blurted out, but that was fine. That was a nice, safe, impersonal topic. 

Adrien grinned again. “Yeah, it’s great! I’m glad father let me come, it’s a lot of fun dancing with everyone. I was just on my way to ask Marinette to dance- oh, looks like Luka is back.” 

She held back a sigh of relief as she turned to look behind her where Adrien was craning his neck to see. Luka was back, and even though the song hadn’t quite ended yet it looked like Rose had released Marinette from their tornado like dance to reunite with Luka. Marinette was busy inspecting Luka’s sleeve—probably to make sure he had properly dried it or something—while the dork stood there blushing and staring at the top of Marinette’s head like a lovesick idiot. 

But a ways behind them… 

She could see Alya staring at the two. Her brows furrowed and there was the familiar gleam in her eyes, the one she always had when she was plotting and scheming… 

“…but Nino said I should try to dance with Marinette, I’m sure they won’t mind if I interrupt-”

“Why don’t we dance?” 

Did she really just say that?

Did she really just say that?

Did she really just say that? 

Why? Why? Of all the things she could ever possibly say to him, why did she have to go and say that? 

She wasn’t sure who was more surprised. Her. Or Adrien. He was staring at her, his mouth gaping open not unlike that of a fish.  And honestly? She couldn’t really blame him… 

“Uh, yeah, sure. Sounds fun.” They stood there awkwardly, looking at each other. “I guess we should…?” Adrien asked, his question trailing off. 

“Oh. Yeah. Uh…” she glanced around, trying to spot Luka and Marinette so that she could get Adrien as faraway from them as possible. The two were dancing to the upbeat song that had started playing. Marinette was glowing, she was smiling so brightly at Luka. And Luka was looking at Marinette like she was the sun, the moon, and all the stars rolled into one as he laughed at something Marinette had said. 

 Her thoughts soured as she glanced around for Alya. There was no way she wanted Adrien anywhere near them lest Alya—or Nino—find a way to interrupt.

Alya was staring at her, her eyes hard and her mouth downturned in a frown. Nino was standing beside her, looking like he was trying to placate her. But Alya looked like she was ready to do business. 

She definitely wanted Adrien away from those two, and any plots Alya cooked up on the fly, as well. 

“Let’s go over there,” she said, nodding her head to the other side of the dance floor where the crowd was thinner. Far away from Luka and Marinette. And far far away from Alya’s interference… 

Adrien nodded, and began heading in the direction she had nodded. The wove through the crowd until they were on the fringes of the far side of the dance floor, far away from any of Alya’s plots and schemes. 

Hopefully. 

Adrien turned to her with another practiced smile and placed a hand on her waist. 

She couldn’t stop herself from stepping back in surprise. 

“What are you doing?” 

Adrien’s brows furrowed. “Dancing?” 

“It isn’t really the right kind of song for that kind of dancing,” she said, nodding to the people around them who were bobbing and swaying to the fast beat of one of the other songs from Clara’s new album.  

“Oh,” Adrien said, his brows still furrowed. But then he smiled and chuckled as he ran a hand though his perfectly coiffed hair. It was such a Chat like movement she almost grimaced. “Sorry about that, guess I’m not used to school dances since father never really lets me go to them,” he said, his voice full of its usual model charm.  

“No problem.” Nodding, she began dancing, trying to ignore the awkwardness that was making it feel like she was moving her stiff limbs through jello. She was never a big dancer, but it was also never hard for her to dance. But this? This was painful. 

But at least if they were dancing they wouldn’t have to make small talk… 

Clumsily, Adrien mimicked her movements. “So…” he said again, breaking the silence between them.    

There went that small comfort… 

“You like Clara’s new album?” she asked, desperately looking for something- anything to talk about that would maybe hopefully dissipate at least some of the awkward tension. Or at least distract her long enough to get her through this song. 

Except that was a mistake. Bringing up Clara’s new album. Because it had another Ladybug song on it. Quite a few actually. And a song a lot of people were speculating was intended to be about Tigress… 

With no mention of Chat in any of the lyrics… 

Adrien’s face darkened into almost a scowl before he seemed to remember himself. “It’s fine,” he muttered before brightening marginally. “The lyrics about Ladybug’s eyes are spot on,”  he half laughed, half sighed. “She really is brilliant- Ladybug that is. Clara’s first song, the one about Ladybug and Chat Noir is still my favourite though.” 

Of course it was.

And was he- was he humming that song about Ladybug and Chat Noir? 

This was more than painful. 

“Hey, you seen Chloe recently?” 

“What?” Why would he be asking her that?

“I haven’t seen her for a while now, and I saw another girl wearing a similar dress-” 

“Last I saw her, it looked like Sabrina was trying to keep her from noticing. I think I saw Sabrina talking to the girl earlier, probably trying to convince her to change.” 

“Oh.” 

Was he seriously disappointed by that? Was he actually hoping Chloe would see the girl wearing a similar dress? Something that would almost surely end in akumatization, if not for the poor girl then for Chloe. Except, it wasn’t really surprising because of course he would. Because where there were akumas, there was Ladybug. A wave of disgust washed through her. “Why are you asking?”

Alarm passed so quickly through Adrien’s eyes she would have missed it if she hadn’t been watching for it. “Oh, you know. It seemed like there’s always an akuma at school dances.” 

“Hopefully the evening won’t come to that.” 

“Of course,” Adrien said, casting her a charming, supermodel smile that was completely repulsive. 

She nodded, trying to return his smile. It wouldn’t do her any good to try and disagree with him. But trying to smile at him made her stomach feel like it was flipping inside out. 

Thankfully, he was Adrien. He took her smile—well, her rather poor attempt at a smile—at face value. “I wonder if Ladybug likes dancing…” She ignored him as he continued to muse about whether Ladybug liked to dance and what kind of music she liked and wax poetic about her in general. 

The song was still no where close enough to being over when she caught sight of Alya and Nino. She had to bite back a groan at the sight of them. They were standing, chatting with Luka and Marinette. She had been able to keep Adrien away from those two, but she had overlooked the crucial fact that it wasn’t just Adrien she had to be worried about. If anything, he really should have been what she was least worried about. 

Alya was the mastermind of all the plots. 

Alya was the one doing her utmost best to be a wedge between Luke and Marinette. 

And she had been so stupid to get so caught up on the Adrien plots that she had overlooked the reality she was contending with. 

Still… the night wasn’t over. Maybe Alya was keeping Marinette and Luka from enjoying their time together right now, but the night was still young. And the song would be over—though not soon enough—and she could make her way back to the two idiots. She just had to grin and bear it a little longer. And at least with Adrien waxing poetic about Ladybug, she could focus on figuring out how to keep Alya away from Luka and Marinette.

#juleka vs. the forces of the universe #juleka couffaine #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #rose lavillant #mylene haprele #alix kubdel #ivan bruel #le chien kim #max kante #adrien agreste #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #alya salt #adrien salt #chat noir salt

[gaysindistress]

When Night Comes - seven

Summary: Who would win in a staring contest? New York’s resident mob boss and master of the side eye Bucky Barnes or the daycare teacher who really wants to go home and smoke?

pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings: mob!Bucky, cursing, the feels, angst, I’m not nice to Yelena in this chapter

word count: 4k

six | masterlist

Tag list: @vickie5446 @cakesandtom @buckybarnessimpp @hidden-treasures21​ @unaxv​ @mal-adaptive-dreams @elizacusi-blog

a/n: “If We Were Vampires (feat. Wesley Schultz)” by Noah Kahan inspired the last part of this chapter so give it a listen when you get closer to the end. I also need to stop making a posting schedule. I never follow it 😂

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest

“If you can hear me, clap once.”

“If you can hear me, clap twice.”

“If you can hear me, clap three times.”

“And if you can hear me, put your hands in your lap,” Sunny smiles as the kids follow her instructions, “Thank you, thank you. Now we are going to go outside so when I call your name, please grab your things and go line up. I want a spy line; no one should be able to hear or see us walk down the hallway, yeah?” 

The kids shout ‘yes’ in response and eagerly await their turn to line up, their tiny bodies nearly shaking with excitement to play outside. One by one they collect their things and line up, each having a little side conversation while eyeing the two teachers in the room because they know they’re not following expectations. Jessica, always the fly on the wall, sneaks up behind two boys and surprises them when she whispers, “Aren’t spies supposed to be silent?”

They nod in agreement and quickly shut their mouths, turning to face the person in front of them. Most of the time she’s able to surprise them and scare them (with love) while other times she has to whip out her maternal look of scorn to get them to follow rules. Sunny, however, can glance over in their direction and the kids immediately shape back up. All it takes is one fleeting glance and the kids know to listen. The more challenging ones might need a verbal reminder but sweet little Wyatt Rogers is quick to do that for the teachers. Jessica likes to joke that he will grow up to be a teacher or police officer one day with his love for rules and enforcing them. 

Today is no different with him quickly stepping in to gently correct his peers before Jessica or Sunny have to. Unease fills Sunny though when she meets his startling blue eyes. She convinces herself that he has no way of knowing about Strigoi and that she knows about his parents even though the way his eyes are piercing her at the moment might be telling a different story. She offers him a small smile, hoping to ease her own worry. He smiles back before looking away to talk to the boy behind him. With his eyes no longer analyzing her soul, she should feel a way of relief washing over her but she doesn’t. 

The phone rings, telling them that a parent is there to pick up their child, and she jumps at the sound. Jessica gives her a puzzled look as she starts the headcount and Sunny answers the phone. 

“Hello, dragă.”

The honeyed voice strikes fear into her core and she freezes as it continues to speak, “I’m here for Wyatt. As much as I like Jessica, I’d rather you be the one to bring him out.”

“Uh… yeah okay, I’ll bring Wyatt out,” she stutters, hanging up the phone too quickly and shoving it into her sweatshirt pocket. 

“Wyatt!” she calls over to the boy, “Wyatt it’s time to go home.”

“I can take him,” Jessica offers, still not blissfully unaware of everything that had happened a few days prior. All she had gotten out of her was that the date had gone well. Other than that, not a single word about Bucky or Alix. 

“No, it’s okay. I’ll do it.”

Jessica catches her wrist before she can walk out of the door, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” and with that, she pulls her wrist away and places her hand on Wyatt’s shoulder to walk him to the main entrance. Standing with his back to the door is Bucky in a black and white tweed jacket with black jeans and a matching striped sweater under. Wyatt races to open the door when he sees his uncle, pushing the door open with all of his might and letting the devil in disguise in. 

“Uncle Buck! Mama said Daddy was going to pick me up today.”

“He got caught up with work and asked me to,” he tells him, ruffling up his blonde hair as he signs him out, “Go wait in the car.”

He allows the boy to duck under his arm as he opens the door before setting his sights on Sunny. 

“Yelena told me that you refused our help again. How am I supposed to be a gentleman if you don’t let me?”

“I don’t think you qualify as a gentleman anymore.”

He raises his thick brows at her insinuation, “And what about me disqualifies me?”

“I know what you’re doing and I’m not falling for it.”

“I’m not doing anything but asking what you mean so please enlighten me.”

She cocks her head in annoyance, “I need to get back to the classroom.”

“Enlighten me,” he repeats, voice dropping a few octaves. 

To the human ear, they might hear the slight hitch in her breathing but to him, he can hear every intake, how it sticks to the inside of her lungs and refuses to release. He can hear how her heartbeat quickens when he looks or speaks directly to her. He can hear the blood rush throughout her body and pound against the inside of her veins. Everything is laid bare to him and she is painfully aware of it hence why she finds the words spilling out without a second thought, “She told me that you’re a Strigoi and your business is how you know Alix.”

“Oh, she did? What else did she say?”

“You don’t know what she wants with me and that she’s putting herself in a lot of danger coming here.”

“And?” 

“That’s all.”

His eyes narrow in disbelief but he lets it go, eyes softening at the fear that sours her usually sweet scent, “I’ll see you tonight, dragă.”

Too paralyzed by fear, she doesn't ask him what he means and just watches as he lets the door close behind him and gets into the car. It’s not until after his car pulls back onto the road that she snaps back to reality. Her body trembles as she walks back, air Jordans scuffling the linoleum that is probably as old as she imagines Bucky to be. 

Jessica peeks her head out of the doorway, “What took so long? Was he being… a meanie head?”

The girl in front of the line squawks at her choice of words, chiding her for calling someone a name. 

“He just wanted to talk,” she quickly says before turning to the kids, “Remember spies in the hallway, and then you can go wild outside.”

An eruption of excited squeals comes from the line but they all settle down the moment they step into the hallways. Too focused on walking backward and keeping a close eye on the line, her body returns to its normal state and she doesn’t feel the text vibrating in the back pocket of her jeans. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened Friday night?”

“I already did.”

Jessica snorts, “No you did not. Something else happened so spill.”

Sunny’s trained on watching the hoard of children running around the playground, “Nothing else happened, I swear. It went well.”

“What happened with Bucky then?”

“Again nothing. He kept texting me all weekend but I told him I need space until I can figure out what to do.”

“So that’s why you came back terrified, okay, yeah,” sarcasm drips from Jessica’s voice as she mocks the lies, “You don’t have to tell me everything but at least quit lying about it.”

But she can’t. 

She can’t tell her the truth, even a sliver of it will have Jess calling the cops because of how insane she sounds. The underlying pain in her voice tugs at her heart but it’s not enough to make her break and she maintains her cover-up. 

“Jess, seriously, I’m not lying. It’s all just a lot. I wasn’t expecting that from him or to like Yelena so much so it’s just a lot trying to figure out what to do.”

“Yeah well, I know what to do.”

“Do tell.” “Dump him and focus on her. She’s clearly more interested than he is no matter how downright gorgeous he is. I wouldn’t even give him the time of day. Ghost him.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Jessica sends her one glance and parting words before heading over to diffuse a fight she sees brewing, “There’s no thinking, just ghost him.”

The knock on her door disturbs her peace, drawing a deep groan from her as she stubbornly gets up. The intruder knocks again, more harshly this time as if saying ‘Hurry up and answer the damn door.’ The edible she took earlier needs to kick in faster if she’s going to deal with whoever decided that 10 pm is the perfect time to bother her. Before the third round of knocks comes, she swings open the door and levels a very bored look at Bucky. 

“The fuck are you doing here?”

“I told you I was coming over.”

“And I thought you'd forget but here we are,” she goes to close the door but his large hand stops it. 

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Is that a part of the Strigoi thing?”

“Nope,” he pops the ‘p’ a little too much as she steps to the side and lets him in. It’s dark enough inside that he wonders if she was about to go to bed, however, the music video that’s playing on the projector tells him otherwise. Sza has been playing on repeat since she got home and she’s definitely not about to pause it for him. 

He looks around her apartment, taking in every detail he can about her and the side she never lets anyone see. Ms. Sunny the daycare teacher is not the true representation of who she is aside from a few key characteristics. She is loving, warm, and amazing with kids however those are usually hidden behind her favorite blank stare and quick comebacks. Something about her is distinctly unique and maybe it’s the way she casually knocks his ego down or it’s how quickly she got under his skin without trying. 

Either way, he has to harass her for the basket of edibles on the coffee table, “I didn’t peg you for a stoner.”

She drops back into her spot on the couch, wrapping herself in a blanket, “Says the drug dealer.”

“I’m not a drug dealer,” his retort goes over her head as he takes a seat on the other side of the couch. 

“I find that hard to believe,” leaning forward, she pops open a container and takes another edible. This man requires at least 20 mg for her to put up with his shit. She can feel his eyes burning holes into her back so she offers the container to him. Maybe a little THC will chill him out and he won’t be so unbearable

“I’m not like Alix.”

“So you’re not a mobster and not human?” 

“Well you got me there but I promise I’m not in the same business as she is.” 

“What business are you in exactly?” 

He takes a seat at the other side and says, “Is that the question you really want to ask?”

“It’s the first one I’m going to ask.” 

He pops one into his mouth, eyes on hers the entire time like he’s trying his hardest to devour her. She pays him no mind and turns her attention to her phone to change the playlist. She contemplates putting on a show or movie to pass the time until the edibles hit them but he has other plans. 

“Strigoi and Lycan’s business is different from what you’re thinking.”

Settling back into her corner, she narrows her eyes at him, “Different as in you traffic people?”

“We don’t do that. That’s more of a Lycan thing now. We are more about controlling our population and keeping our existence under wraps.” 

“But you did do it at one point?” 

“No, I didn’t but it was a Strigoi matter years ago. We don’t need to kidnap people to feed.” 

“Next question; can you even get high?”

He lets out a small chuckle and slings his arm across the back of the couch, “Yes but it doesn’t last as long as it does for you. It acts as a dampener for the thirst.” 

Her eyebrows shot up in shock, “Are you always ya know… bloodthirsty?”

“It never really goes away so in a way I guess but I can control myself. There’s no need to be afraid of me,” he softens his voice towards the end, smelling the fear that has started to rise in her. 

“How do you know I’m afraid of you?” 

“I can smell it and I’m not stupid. It’s written all over your face.” 

She drops her face to look at her hands wrapped up in the green blanket her brother gave her before he died. 

“Yelena has been tracking that Lycan woman you saw me with. Alix doesn’t seem to know where you are yet.”

“Key word is yet,” she scoffs, picking at the lint balls on the blanket. 

“If you let us, we could protect you. She might be desperate but she wouldn’t risk years of peace to get to you.” 

“You clearly don’t know her.”

“So tell me then; what does she want with you?” 

The challenge in his words quickens her heartbeat and he snaps his eyes shut to will away the Strigoi inside as the blood rushing becomes overwhelming. When he opens his eyes, she’s staring at him with a knowing look. 

“No need to be afraid of you?” 

“What can I say? There’s something about you that makes me lose my self-control,” he chuckles however she’s unamused. 

“That’s not very reassuring.”

“It should be flattering if anything,” he says as he takes off her leather jacket to reveal a simple gray t-shirt and black jeans. His signature superstars Adidas give him a domesticated look that is all too deceiving when she knows what lurks beneath the surface. 

“How exactly is that flattering?” 

“I’ve been around for a while, not many things tempt me let alone lose control. The fact that just being near you tests that aren’t just a coincidence; there’s something special about you.”

She has to resist her own urge to rack her eyes down his form as she speaks, “Maybe that’s why Alix wants me so bad.”

“Maybe,” he dryly chuckles as the hand on the back of the couch flexes in a not-so-humorous manner at the mention of her ex. 

“How do you know her?”

“I don’t personally know her but I know of her and her reputation.”

She nods her head slowly as the edible sits in but it does nothing to help with the storm in her mind. Everything about Alix and her brother swirls inside as she stares absentmindedly in his direction. 

“I wanted to apologize for the other night,” he starts slowly, hoping to gently bring her back to him, “I saw you with her and it just… I saw red but that isn’t an excuse for how I treated you.”

“You’re right,” she whispers still fixated on his watch. 

“What?” “You’re right,” she says louder now, looking at him head-on, “You were an asshole about the worst possible thing ever. It’s so confusing sometimes how sweet you can be but within seconds, you’re a completely different person.”

It’s his turn to hang his head, “I know and that’s not how I want you to see me. Like I told you, I don’t view this as a fling…”

She interrupts him, “Are you really giving me that bullshit? ‘I can see this turning into something real’? No this,” she gestures between them, “isn’t turning into anything. You blew that chance.”

“I still owe you a dinner so at least let me make that up to you before you completely write me off.”

She stretches out her feet and nearly touches his thighs with them, “Why should I give you a second chance?”

“Because you want to” The hand on the back of the couch falls to her sock-covered feet and drags them to fully rest on his lap.

Rolling her eyes, she scoffs, “No what I want to do is kick you out but I’m not entirely convinced you wouldn't sneak in through a window.”

“I wouldn’t need to because you wouldn’t do that. You like me too much.” 

She pulls her foot back slightly but his hand holds onto it tighter and stops her from pulling away. His touch is not unwelcomed however the protector inside of her screams for her to push him away. 

“Jesus every time you talk, circus music needs to play with how far-fetched some of the shit that comes out of your mouth is.” 

“You’re the one who needs circus music. I see the way you look at me, how your breathing hitches when you see me, how hot you get when I get closer,” his hand is dragging up to her ankle as he continues to mock her, “Don’t you think I can tell when I have an effect on you?” 

“You have the audacity of a middle-aged man who just got divorced,” she tries to deter him from moving his hand up by insulting him. 

 It has the desired effect and his hand freezes on her ankle, chilling her to the bone, “Do I look like a middle-aged man to you?” “No, you look like someone who’s wormed their way into my life and made it a living hell ever since then.”

“I can leave,” he offers, taking his hand off of her ankle and gently nudging her feet off his lap. 

The way he so casually offers to give her what he wants is a surprise, a shock even to her and it takes her a moment to process what he said. In the meantime, he takes his chance to look over her. Anxiety has taken away her ability to sleep and the circles under her eyes have grown more prominent in such a short amount of time. The way she slouches into the couch is also evidence of how stressed she’s become since learning of Alix’s arrival. It pains him to see her in disarray and turmoil but he knows he caused it. Had he taken the time to slowly reveal everything to her maybe she’d be doing better. Had he allowed her to feel comfortable around him so that when he finally did tell her, she would’ve sought comfort with him rather than with Yelena. He’d practically driven her into her arms so he had no right to feel any jealousy about their budding relationship but a part of him wanted to destroy it. 

“Do you want me to call Yelena?” he asks hesitantly. 

“No, it’s fine. You don’t have to leave. It’s just… It’s just a lot,” she sighs as she stares at her feet, “I wasn’t expecting her to find me and then for all this to happen. I just don’t know how to handle all of it and it’s not like I can tell Jessica. She wouldn’t understand.”

His nose involuntarily wrinkles at her name but Sunny doesn’t catch it. Sure she’s a lovely girl and a good friend to Sunny but she’s with Peter in some capacity. He tries not to show his annoyance as he speaks, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Make it all disappear so I can go back to my normal life,” she half-jokes as she drops her head against the back of the couch.

“I can do that. All you have to do is ask,” he jokes back, resting her hand on her ankle once again, “But I can’t make Strigoi or Lycan go away unfortunately.”

“Or bring my brother back,” slips out before she can stop it. A horrified look takes over her face when she realizes what came out but a soft expression overcomes his. 

“It will get easier even if it doesn’t seem like it right now,” he mutters while his thumb rubs small circles into the skin of her ankle.

“That’s what they all say but I don’t believe them. It’s been five years and it’s just gotten worse,” she glances down at his hand and then back up to him, “Did you have any siblings?”

“I did but that’s a story for a different time,” he tells her after checking his watch. 11:11 pm flashes back up at him and she tries to hide a yawn under her blanket but is unsuccessful. 

He gently pushes her feet off and stands, extending a hand down to her, “Come on, dragă. It’s time for you to get to bed.”

Furrowing her brows at his persistence, she obliges and takes his hand, nearly bumping into his chest from the force of him pulling her up. He smiles softly down at her as his arms enclose her to his chest. Once again they find themselves inches from each other with their noses nearly touching as he leans down. His breath fans over her lips as his barely brush against hers and she lifts onto her toes to meet his but he drops his head on her shoulder. Although she can’t see, he is squeezing his eyes shut to force the animal side of him back into its cage. 

“Hey,” she gently coaxes him to look at her, a hand cradling his face, “Bucky.”

The tender call of her voice brings him to his full height regardless of how much the voice in his head is screaming at him to stop. Black veins are retreating under his red eyes as he regains control of himself and awaits her reaction. The hand that cradles his face drifts over and her thumb brushes where the black veins once were. Her warm touch unthaws emotions deep within him he thought were lost to time and he finds himself dipping back down to catch her lips against his better judgment. 

He knows this can’t go on forever. It’s guaranteed that one of them will spend their days alone. They’d be lucky to get maybe 40 years together but one day, one of them will be gone. That doesn’t stop him from giving what he can to her in this kiss. All of the promises and emotions he can possibly convey are done with the flicker of his tongue and slide of his lips against hers. Her soft noises urge him to keep kissing her as if she alone will sustain him rather than the blood in her veins. His hands slide up her back and find their rightful place holding her face against his, deepening their kiss. 

Sunny stills as she pulls away and tilts her forehead against his, “We can’t do this.” 

Chuckling albeit in a sad manner, he agrees. Yelena is at the forefront of their minds and so are the implications of their relationship as humans and Strigoi. 

He expects her to pull away entirely but she doesn’t and instead, drags him back into a feverish kiss that ignites a fire he hasn’t felt in years. The black veins threaten to return and the red begs to flood the blue eyes she’s grown accustomed to seeing in her dreams. Fangs poke at her bottom lip and she smiles, gently kissing his nose as she pulls away. His natural state, one of animalistic desire, is terrifying to most however she is the exception. There is not a hint of fear and worry in her eyes as they stare up at him. The warmth that his body can no longer proceed is found there and a hint of emotion he prays will develop into more. 

“I need to go to bed.” 

He pauses to allow his body to regain its composure. Emotions overwhelm his thinking and words tumble out without hesitation. 

“I’ll give you every second I can find,” he whispers, voice hoarse and quiet. 

“I know,” she whispers back, drawing him into a hug, “Good night.”

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #mob au #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes imagine #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #when night comes bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes reader insert #marvel #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier x reader #vampire bucky barnes #vampire au #vampire!bucky x reader #vampire!bucky

[ageless-aislynn]

Aislynn's Absolute Screaming, Crying, Flailing Thinky Thoughts About Halo s2ep8

Under the cut since its the finale and I don't want to be That Person who spoils a finale for anybody if I can help it 💖

First thing: KAI, my baby, noooooooooo

Okay, do I love the Halo games? So much. So, so much. Did I know what actually adapting them would mean would happen in the live action show, especially since s2 clearly wanted to pull closer to the games? Yep.

Did I want to see characters I've come to love, appreciate or love to hate get infected by the Flood? HECK NO.

However, the fact that the Flood spores were much smaller than their game counterparts (Evil Cabbages with feet were my initial thought of them when I met them in Combat Evolved the first time 😂����‍♀️😉) was a definite win, IMO. Obviously they couldn't be germ-sized in game and you be able to shoot them. But just the visual of them being smaller and much more virus/germ-sized made them a bazillion times scarier because they felt more real in that way to me.

Why do I watch so many zombie things? Zombies FREAK ME OUT SO BAAAAAD, MAN. And the body horror, dude. Ohhhhh, I can't with the body horror and people getting mutated and... UGH. Yet I've made, like, half a dozen Alien/Prometheus vids. I AM A CONUNDRUM, what can I say? 🤷‍♀️😂

Now, ever since Vannak died, I've been trying to figure out how we can, you know, bring him back to the show. I still don't know how it could actually be done but one thing I do know is that KAI COULD TOTALLY BE FOUND INJURED BUT ALIVE. Her Mjolnir can protect her from deep space, so it could have totally protected her against a big KABOOM, too. Her body is intact, she wasn't vaporized or whatever, so that's my story and I'm sticking to it. *nodnods very seriously*

I think I'm going to have to either invent time travel or cloning to save Vannak, though. Give me a minute. 🤔😉

If we do get another season (or 2 or 5 😉), I'm wondering if they're really serious about Silver Team being gone, if we're going to get Blue Team, then? Mannnnn, I don't want Silver to be gone, though. I've fallen so in love with Kai, Riz and Vannak now, too!

I'm kinda glad that not-Thel!Arbiter wasn't Thel because that was a good ending to his storyline, with Chief's "I know what he said" and finishing him off. Obs, though, I don't want Thel to have met the same fate.

Makee's line about being a demon, too? That was a good one, yep. Still annoyed that John's first question to her last ep wasn't "Um, hi, nice to see you and how is it that you're alive?" That being unanswered was just one of those clearly "because we changed showrunners," things.

John and Cortana (now in his suit), together again, YESSSSS!!!

Hello, Guilty Spark! If this is Gravemind they're talking about, they NEED Dee Bradley Baker for the voice. Just, no question, don't even think of casting anybody else.

John doing that badass "fight through the smoke and haze to save the day" made my fangirl heart go pitter-pat, what can I say? I'm easy to please, lol!

In summary, I did love s2 in a different way than I loved s1 and I hope we'll get news of a renewal ASAP!

Also, Kai's fine, she's just having a little nap, no worries!

#halo #halo the series #halo paramount+ #airline's thinky thoughts #master chief #john-117 #kai-125 #ageless aislynn #aislynn's thinky thoughts #i'm TOTALLY keeping that autocorrected tag calling me an airline lol #halo spoilers #spoilers