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#THEY WERE ROBBED OF THEIR EARLY 20s
akhaste · 5 months
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Lee Yoon - Song of the Bandits Sketchs/ Studies 1920's & 1890's
Bonus: 1920's, but without the 'stache
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sttoru · 3 months
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your lover would do anything to have your attention on him and nothing or no one else. even if that meant competing with a stuffed toy.
☀︎|tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, teeny tiny bit suggestive. implied age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). just satoru being a manchild honestly. reader gets called ‘pretty, princess, baby.’ little dumb drabble that is not beta read.
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you were cuddling up to your plushie under a pile of blankets, protecting yourself from the almost freezing temperatures outside of your apartment. the television is playing your favorite show, your food is set on the coffee table and your lovely boyfriend is. . . taking pictures of you.
“come on — look at the camera, pretty girl!” satoru coos. he was blocking your view of the screen, indirectly forcing you to follow his instructions. the older man visibly melts the moment you actually do gaze up at him; his eyes soften and his smile brightens, “there y’go. so adorable.”
he snaps a couple pictures from different angles and even one from up close. his big hand cups both of your cheeks, squeezing them together and forcing your mouth into a deformed ‘o’ shape. the way you look up at him through your eyelashes was the cherry on top.
“have i ever told you how beautiful you are, princess?” satoru sighs as he takes one last picture. he puts his phone down and settles next to you on the couch.
you chuckle and instantly rest your head on his shoulder. he sneaks a hand under the blankets and rests it on the exposed skin of your hip, causing you to shiver from the contrast between your body temperatures, “you remind me of it every day.”
satoru huffs—a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. he’s holding back the urges to nibble on your cheek. you’re just so adorable to him; it’s hard to control the cute aggression he experiences whenever you’re around him.
“yeah, well, as i should.” your clingy boyfriend says matter-of-factly. you roll your eyes and scoot over to the other side of the couch, moving away from satoru in fear of him possibly stealing your blankets. he was known as the ‘blanket hogger’ in your relationship after all.
satoru frowns in response and childishly puts his hands on his hips, looking at you like you had just betrayed his trust. you stick your tongue out and continue watching your favorite show—snuggled up to the fluffy blankets and stuffed toy instead of your man.
“can’t believe i got replaced by some blankets and a dumb plushie.” satoru whines. he sighs dramatically and slumps back against the couch, crossing his arms. a pillow flies over to his side and hits him right on the head.
“it’s not dumb. that’s mean.” you glare at him with an offended expression, though were also proud of your excellent aim. you hug your hello kitty plushie to your chest and turn your body the other way. now it was your time to sulk.
little did you know that you’d still be no match to your sassy lover.
the older man falls to the side, continuing his theatrics and clutching his head, “and on top of all that, i’m portrayed as the bad guy. . . haaaah, all i wanted was to be close to my pretty girlfriend.”
that gains him another cushion to the head. satoru grunts and huffs before planning a counterattack. one that was much more direct, yet softer than your pillow attacks.
not a second passes by and your body is already getting robbed from the blankets. “hey, wait,” you click your tongue, though were physically too weak to do anything about satoru’s actions. his body crushes yours underneath him — your poor plushie squeezed between you and your lover.
his hands move quickly to wrap the covers around the both of you. satoru grins to himself as he snuggles up to you, making himself comfortable in your embrace. his face is buried against your chest and his voice is muffled as he speaks up, “oh, c’mooon. can ya blame a man for wanting to cuddle with his girl? exactly - no.”
. . . he didn’t even give you the chance to answer his question. you playfully smack the back of his head and satoru giggles. sometimes it really feels like you’re the older one in the relationship.
“fine, but she’s staying.” you give in eventually, though were demanding for your plushie to stay with you. not that satoru cared about that thing any longer: as long as he has you in his arms, he doesn’t give a damn about anything else.
the white-haired man answers with a simple hum. he even adjusts the stuffed toy so it could rest between both your bodies, patting its head with care before doing the same to you. his large hand settles on top of your head and he moves it back and forth—a gesture of affection he likes to do often.
“mm — say, baby. .” satoru yawns and rests his head back on your chest afterwards. he closes his eyes while he presses soft kisses to the swell of your breasts, “cuddling with me is way better than cuddling with your plushies, right? riiiight?”
there he goes again. you can’t help but snicker however. you grin devilishly and take time to think of a way to tease your lover, “hmmm—no, i think i’d much rather cuddle with my plushies.”
you hear that dramatic gasp and mentally prepare yourself to deal with an even whinier and clingier satoru.
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jyoongim · 17 days
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Feel absolutely free to delete this if it makes you uncomfortable but I would like to request human Alastor and a reader with an age gap between them.
Like I mean the reader is of course the age to concent but I like to imagine Alastor (who is canonically in his late thirties/early forties before he died) enjoying hearing reader calling him ‘daddy’ and begging him to put a baby in her.
Again feel free to reject
THINK I NEED SOMEONE OOOLLDDDEEEERRR DUNDUNDUN
Themes: age gap, Alastor is in late 30s, fem!reader, reader is in early 20s, term ‘daddy’ used sexual, slight breeding kink, baby fever, ovulation
Part 2
‘Aint he a bit…old?’
’oh honey the man is practically your father’
’You’re far too young to want to settle with that fossil’
’how do you expect him to raise children?’
’what he couldn’t find a woman his own age? Robbing the cradle ain’t he?’
Sometimes you’re a little wary of letting people meet your husband. Especially when he was 15 years older than you, a mere 23 year old.
Yes Alastor was a bit older than you, but you didn’t mind. 
You rather enjoyed having someone who has experienced the world a little and would happily provide for you.
The gossip about the two of you always gnawed at your nerves, but you didn’t care, not when he treated you like a princess. 
 Alastor gave you any and everything you needed and wanted, so to hell with the whispers.
As of late, you have been having baby fever. You swore your insides tingle when you are engaged with a child. Your ovaries screaming to have a little bundle of your own to care for.
It didn’t help you’re ovulating…and your husband was looking like he would make the best father for your kids.
The two of you were out in town shopping, when you spotted the cutest baby set. You tugged his arm, to gain his attention to the display in the window. “Darlin what is it?” He asked as you excitedly squealed. You turned to him, lips pouty and giving him your best puppy eyes as you pointed to the display “oh can we get it? Pleeeaaassseee baby. C’mon wont you buy it for me?” You wrapped your arms around his neck, hands dancing lightly along his neck as you pressed your lips to the corner of his.
You knew how to work him that’s for sure.
Alastor hummed tilting his head as he mulled it over. He could never tell you ‘no’, even if it was ridiculous. He ran a thumb over your bottom lip, cock twitching in his trousers as you playfully bit it. “You are a little minx you know that?” He sighed, letting you drag him into the store.
“But why do you want baby clothes dear?” he genuinely asked, looking at the displays on a wall as you wrapped your arms around his waist. 
You nipped at his ear, tugging the soft flesh cooing into his ear, voice soft and innocent “Because we're gonna need it when I have your baby. Wont you like that? To put a baby in me? Your baby. I think you’ll make a great Daddy. Dont you think daddy?” You purred making the tall man quickly pay for the clothes and drag you out the store, making you giggle.
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"fuuuck, d-don't stop. Ah!" you moan as his cock rams into your pussy, feeling the stretch. His cock is going deep inside of your body, hitting the spongy nerve over and over, making you gush more around his already slicer-covered cock. Alastor’s fingers find your puffy, throbbing clit and he rubs it n tune with speed of his thrusts. Your eyes roll deep inside of your skull as you let out high pitched moans and whines. For once, Alastor is loud, groaning and cursing at the tightness of your pussy.  It’ll never not amaze him that no matter how many times he fucks you, you're always so tight, like you were made just for him.
"gonna cum inside f-fuck baby I’m gonna fill you up so much" he grunts you, kissing your shoulder as he angled his thrusts so he hits your sweet spot. you whine, you're so close, you arched your back to take the impact of his thrust deep into you.
"Oh fuck oo-Oh fuck ah ah ah Ha!f-fuck Al! I-im cumming! Oh god! Yes!" you cry out, toes curling as you push your ass back onto his cock. You mewled as clear liquid squirted out of you and made a mess of the bed. That alone with your cunt fluttering had his cock twitch and his release soon approaches.
"you want my babies? Huh? You gonna let me fuck a baby in you darlin?" he asks you, eyes fixated on his cock disappearing into the creamy mess that was your cunt. You babbled nonsense as your body tries to recover from your orgasm and twitching from overstimulation.
Alastor tugged your hair back, redirecting your attention as his cock slotted into you over and over. “You gotta use you words baby. C’mon what do you want from Daddy?” He grinned feeling your cunt clench.
You sobbed as you felt a finger in your ass, another orgasm raking through you “c-cum. I want your cum inside me. Please! Daddy please put a baby in me! i want to have your babies just please”
Alastor hummed as you cummed again, he laughed "Cant believe I made you cum without my tongue first. But don’t worry, ill give you that too, after I fuck my cum in your pussy. We want it to take don’t we? Yeeeaaa we do. C’mon baby take it take my cum, let me fuck a baby into you.” 
A harsh thrust had you see white and he slammed his lips on yours as his hips shuddered against your ass, cock twitching as he emptied his balls into you.
He sighed as he curled you into his chest, cock still buried inside you. He kissed your sweaty forehead, smiling  “You’ll make such a beautiful momma baby. I can’t wait to have several little ones running about” 
You tilted your head slightly “you want more than one?”
Alastor’s smile deepened “Oh you didn’t think I would stop at just one did you?”
Your cunt fluttered, making him laugh “seems we agree perfectly”
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cheriladycl01 · 2 months
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Baby, can you call me back? I miss you... its so lonely in our mansion - Lewis Hamilton x Model! Reader
Plot: You are the 'IT GIRL' of celebrities right now. Dating older F1 driver cooks up a storm.
Warnings: Age Gap, Established relationship, Smut (Consisting off Unprotected Sex, Fingering, P In V etc.) Minors Do Not Interact 18+
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You were currently waiting for Lewis to come home, it was the Monaco GP and you'd left early during his debrief as you were sporting a slight headache from all the excitement.
He knew you'd be there and he knew you were waiting for him. You were sort of a current century IT girl.
That happens when you are on the cover of vouge and in big blockbuster movies alongside modelling for Versace and other big brands that wanted your name.
You were all the talk in the media for the past few years, especially where you were dating Lewis Hamilton. He was 10 year older than you, but he treated you well. Even though you were 23 when you and Lewis started dating, people still seemed to treat you like you were made of glass. Yes, that was probably more to your high profile status and the fact that you're in the public eye.
Lewis treated you like an adult and you loved it, he wasn't in the relationship for publicity or just for a quick time. He had met you at exclusive party that you happened to be at as well as some of the 2018 F1 drivers.
Now in the middle of 2024 and Mercedes had a rocketship for a car, Lewis was on track for winning his 8th World Champion, you and Lewis had been together for 7 years now and what an interesting 7 years it had been. You'd been there for him winning 3 of his championships, seeing him get robbed of his 8th and then have a shit car for the next two seasons while Red Bull seem to be in a horrible sort of domination.
He'd won in Monaco today sharing a Podium with Lando Norris, who was actually his biggest competition this year. Mclaren came out on top, right now it was Mercedes Mclaren and Ferrari dancing around each other and then Red Bull who focused on their 2025 car too early and didn't do enough work with the 2024 car.
The door to the home opens and in walks your beautiful husband.
"How's my race winner" you smile at him, walking over to him slowly. He hangs the keys up to his car on the hook before his hands wrap around your waist pulling you into a hug. He nuzzles his face into your neck, his arms travelling up to stroke your soft hair, running down to the side of your face to hold your face steadily in his hand.
"I haven't stopped thinking about you all day!" he offers, pushing your hair back behind your ear before leaning in, kissing you softly.
"You were thinking about me when you were racing?" you ask with a smirk, stepping closer into him so your arms are able to hold his upper arms, helping you lean up to place a soft, yet sensual kiss on the corner of his mouth.
"I'm always thinking about you baby" he mumbles looking you up and down.
"Well, I think my World Champion deserves a reward!" you smile, grinning at him.
"Mmmmm what kind of reward, I can think of 20 things I'd settle for right now" he admits biting his lip.
"Well, I don't know about you but your fav vegan dish is in the oven. I can run you a nice hot bath and give you a massage, or we can take Rossi on a walk, or we can watch a movie and cuddle.." you say leaning closer into him.
"Hmmmmm, that all sounds very good. But first i want you!" he says pulling into you. He pulls you up so your legs are wrapped around his waist and your arms around around the back of his head. He holds you up while pulling you into a kiss.
He walks you into the bedroom and places you down on the bed, making you bounce into the plush duvet and cushions. You lean up and you elbows moving back a little while Lewis crawls on top of you.
"Such a pretty baby!" he says, as he reaches round the back to unzip the black silk dress you were wearing. He tugs it down, throwing it onto the bedroom floor, a groan coming from him as he sees the matching black set that was on underneath.
He couldn't help but think that you'd been looking that delectable all day, and it didn't help and wouldn't help any future thoughts of what you wore on race days.
"God, Y/N!"
"Lew, come on" you groan, as his hands run up and down the curves of your body. Eventually his fingers work their way around your underwear, while his other hand goes behind you arching back to undo your bra. He skillfully undid it with the one hand while his other focused on your clit.
Your thighs squeezed together in anticipation as you feel his finger on your clit speed up. A gasp comes from you and your hand reaches down to hold his wrist.
"Lewis, i need you please!" you groan as his mouth encases around your left nipple and starting to suck and bite at it leaving hickies along the curve of your breast.
You feel movement on the bed, you look down to see him grinding against the mattress.
"Come here..." you moan and he crawls up the bed. His hand doesn't leave, going the step further and pushing one finger in. You reach down palming him through his trousers.
"Fuck baby, just like that" he groans adding another finger while leaning into your neck and kissing up and along it.
"Just take those pants off" you moan, looking up at him. He shakes his head, adding a third finger going faster.
"You gotta cum for first darling" he breathes out, you gasp watching him closely.
Lewis always put your pleasure first, that was one of the highlights of your relationship is that he always wanted you happy and content, as he would say that it made him happy and content.
He lived by the happy wife happy life memo religiously.
You feel that familiar coil built up and with the way you start moving Lewis speeds up knowing that your close.
"Lewis, Lewis fuck" you gasp as that sensation is released. You breathing slows as you come down.
"Okay, my turn" you say sitting up on your knees, squishing your thighs together.
"I can't wait, for that baby. Gotta be in you now!" he whimpers. He pulls you up so that your against the headboard, he lays you down before positioning himself above you.
He sinks all the way in, the both of you moaning and groaning as you feel every inch of him inside of you. Each ridge, every edge you can feel against your walls as you push further against him to get him deeper. He bottoms out with a sigh of happiness partially collapsing against you.
"I love you Lew, and im so thankful I'm yours" you admit with a gasp as he starts moving back and forth, the thrusts making lewd noises as he grips your hips.
"Say it again!" he exclaims looking at you in the eyes, one of his hands moving from your hip up to your cheek.
"I'm yours Lew, all yours!" you moan arching up into him and clenching.
"I love you so much darling. Fuck" he moans, nipping and biting against your collarbone as he starts to thrust quicker into you. Your own grip tightens on him as that same feeling from earlier resurfaces but more violent.
Your eyes screw shut, the moans coming from you mouth is like music into Lewis' ears. He wishes he could have it as his ringtone, or playing to him before a race. Even during a race, that for sure would make him finish a race quicker knowing he could see you quicker and stuff you full.
"Baby I'm gonna cum" he groans right into your ear making you twitch and attempt to thrust up into him. He holds you still putting pressure on your stomach making you gasp loudly and try to sit up.
"Cum baby, cum in me" you cry, tears start to stream down your face.
"Oh fuck baby" you cry and clench hard round him as he hits that spongey spot that just feels so good. You release with a whine and head thrown back, while Lewis follows helping you both ride out your high.
He collapses on top of you staying sunk inside of you. He kisses you, whispering stuff to you about what he loves, making little plaits in your hair as he goes.
Maybe waiting for Lewis in your mansion wasn't so bad after all.
A/N: This is my first smut on this account, so it will get better when i know what i feel comfortable putting out there!
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma
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satrs · 11 months
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i just read the cliche post and like- DAMNNNNNN
But now isagi's part got me thinking what if, milf reader??? VEKFBKSNS please i just wanna be this hot ass mom who has teens drooling on her, i dONT HAVE ANY SCENARIO IN MIND BUT PLEASEE i am begging fr
AHHHH OMG YOUR MIND!!! VSKDKXKX THANK YOU FOR THIS!!!
MILF!?
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ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; ɢᴜʏꜱ ᴡʜᴏ ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍɪʟꜰ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀꜱ!
ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; Isagi Yoichi. Itoshi Sae. Shidou Ryusei. Nagi Seishiro. Otoya Eita.
Tags; Age gap(they're in their early 20's, reader in her late 30's). mention of kids. breeding kink. creampie. nicknames(good boy, ma', mommy, baby). some subby guyss
ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀʀᴇ 18+!!! // ɴᴏᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰʀᴇᴀᴅ
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ISAGI YOICHI.
I just knowww he's a sucker for hot MILFs ♡
He loves everything about them! He loves how they are so mature and how they're so experienced in sex life!
And you are no exception. He was always looking forward to seeing you, feeling the urge to take care of you after you had another stressful day with work and your kids :(
You jumped up and down, rocking your hips at a tantalizing speed, leaving him comepletely pussydrunk.
"Yes baby fuckkk, use me." Your aching heat clenched at his words. He was the best. Letting you use him as you pleased, getting rid of
all the stress you had throughout the day.
He threw is head back, adams apple throbbing as your rythm increased, his hands flying to take a hold of your asscheeks. "Yesyesyes, fuck!", he groaned, to lost over the feeling of you around him, subconsiously thursting his hips up into yours, causing you to moan out his name.
No man was ever able to please you like this young man did, always tending to all your needs.
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ITOSHI SAE.
Hear me out. I think he would really enjoy himself a nice milf.
It’s just something about you that makes his cock stir in his pants, probably the fact that you were so ridiculously beautiful, aging like fine wine.
He loves and worshippes every single part of your body, from your pregnancy strechmarks to your amazing thighs. And he never failed to let you know how beautiful you were.
"God.", you sighed out, hand threading into his red locs. "Don't stop Sae, oh shit!" You moans caused the man to groan into your aching heat, hands firmly griping your thighs, holding you in place, wide open for his mouth to devour.
Your legs started to lock around his head, almost robbing his breath. But he didn't mind. Hell, he would die a happy man if he were to die being suffocated by your elegant thighs.
It barely took you one more flick of his tongue to succumb to him, legs shaking at the hard impact of your orgasm. He lapped up your juices, overstimulating you in the process.
"Fuck, I could do this all day."
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SHIDOU RYUSEI.
He is literally obsessed with MILFs idc.
Would do ANYTHING for a gorgeous woman like yourself.
Suck your sore titties? Done. Feed your baby because you’re so exhausted? Already finished. Fucking your brains out while your child is at daycare? Oh, he loves that.
He always tells you how he would love to have kids with you himself, knowing they would be beautiful given to your genetics.
„Yeah? You like that ma‘? I know you do.“
Whines and whimpers escaped your plumb lips, his cock drilling in and out of you from behind at an rapid pace.
„Yes Ryusei! I love it, love it!“ you slurred put incoherent words of praise into the pillow, causing the mans chest to swell with pride.
„I‘ll fill you up so good, make you a mommy again. Whatcha say?“
You whined at that, back arching even further and the image of him filling you to the brim with his juice heavy in your mind.
Maybe another child would be nice, right?
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NAGI SEISHIRO.
Loves them bc he is so lazy urgh
You just take such great care of him, not letting him lift a finger and you never complain about him ever.
And to top it all of, you were so incredibly sexy, he couldn’t wrap his mind around it.
He just feels like being in heaven when he rings at your doorbell late at night when your kid is asleep, begging you to take care of him :(
„You’re such a good boy you know that right, Sei'?“ you questioned while your slim fingers stroked his throbbing cock.
„Mhmm, yes mommy. Such a good boy for you. Only you“ he whined, dangerously close to his orgasm.
„Well then“, you began, pace of your hand increasing, stimulating his sensitive tip with your tumb, „prove it to me and cum, babyboy.“
He was a slave to you and your words, immediately cumming all over your hand and his pelvis.
Whispers of thanks spilled from his lips, „Thank you so much mommy.“
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OTOYA EITA.
MILF hunter🤷🏽‍♀️
Being a single mom is not for the weak, causing you to sometimes be more dominant with the people around you.
He just loves when you put him into him place, calming him down from his prideful behavior
Acting like a careless and heartbreaking playboy? Nah, not around your watch.
"So good, you feel so good", eita commented, dick silding in and out of your squeezed together thighs. "Mhm? think you deserve to be inside of me?", you inquired in a teasing manner, smirk adoring your lips at his ragged breathing.
He didn't say anything, already knowing the answer. "That's what I thought. Next time, you better not act out of line again, hm?"
Even though he was on top of you, you were the one in control. Always.
He nodded, completely falling under our spell, enjoying the feeling of your plush thighs around his aroused length.
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ᵃˡˡ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍˢ ᵗᵒ k-azus.°
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mrsjellymunson · 3 months
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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! 🥂🍷🎁
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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…
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“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…
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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.
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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.”
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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.”
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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...
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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.🎄
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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’ 😊🎄
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paganimagevault · 6 months
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Tomb of An Bei 589 CE. Sogdian tomb.
I couldn't find the translation for the epitaph for this one.
"Differently from the other tombs quoted in this paper, Anbei’s tomb was not excavated by archaeologists, but found and looted by the robbers, therefore the archaeological context of this tomb, even the date of this accidental finding are lost. Until now, all we know is that this tomb robbery happened someday between 2006 and 2007. Several stone figurines, a funerary couch and Anbei’s epitaph stone were found in the tomb. Two stone figurines, parts of the base of the couch and the epitaph are now exhibited in the Tang West Market Museum in Xi’an (Fig.20), four panels belonging to the private owners, including two processing and two banqueting scenes, were published, too (Fig.21).
Although owning the typical Sogdian name An, which means his ancestors migrated into China from Bukhara, his homeland was described in a completely different name, the state of Anjuyeni, which was never recorded by any source before. An’s family moved to China during the Northern Wei dynasty, some of his family members once served in the Bureau of Tributaries. For the court, it’s also an usual way to adopt expatriate immigrants to work in the diplomatic system. Anbei’s father, An Zhishi, served as a middle-rank commanding officer among the honour guards of the court.
As a, likely, third generation immigrant, Anbei’s life depicted in the epitaph was very brief, too. Except for the usual eulogies commonly written in every epitaph, two main parts of his experience were emphasized: his mercantile ability and simple bureaucratic career. The one who wrote the text made a metaphor, assimilating Anbei with two famous ancient Chinese merchants, Baigui and Xiangao during the Eastern Zhou Period (approximately between 8th c. - 3rd c. BC); After that, Anbei’s only short official career as a very lower status clerk of the military headquarters of vassal leader Xuchang was recorded, probably happened in 575 AD when he was 20 years old. Soonafter the Northern Qi was replaced by Northern Zhou dynasty in 577 AD, Anbei returned home in Luoyang, the place where he died and was buried in 589 AD at the age of 34.
The motivation for me to list this robbed tomb here, together with the other tombs which have detailed background obtained through scientific archaeological excavation is, however, mainly not for its elaborate funerary couch, but because of his distinctive identity depicted in the epitaph. Prior to the discovery of Anbei’s tomb, the deceased of all five tombs which constituted the most important foundation of the studies of the foreign immigrants in early medieval China, namely the tombs of Lidan, Kangye, Anjia, Shijun and Yuhong, owned high-ranked official positions such as head of a prefecture or Sabao, which may result in a misconception that only aristocrats of the foreign immigrants could be buried with such elaborate funerary furniture. However, Anbei’s tomb provided an additional possibility about the status of the tomb occupant who used the stone funerary furniture. What is expressly shown in the epitaph, during his 34-year-long life, Anbei was just a very ordinary person, without any notable ancestry from homeland, neither held any high-ranked post, nor received anyone as a posthumous reward.
Except for the basic information above, there is also a remarkable narration during the introduction in the beginning of Anbei’s epitaph, which may reflect the collective mindset among most of the foreign immigrants in China and their efforts in social integration, ‘Although he is a foreigner, after a long life in China, there is no difference between him and the Chinese’.
-Yusheng Li, Study of tombs of Hu people in late 6th century northern China
199 notes · View notes
pumpkinstrawbrew · 7 months
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🆃🅷🅴 🆆🅸⨢.🅲🅷🅸🅽🅶 🅷△🆄🆁.
>>> the grim adventures of jon n' jack. feat batman n' spiderman. <<<
...
it was only a matter of time, before i would have made another crossover with those two. i can't deny, that they are very 1:1 for me, when it comes to comics supervillains. so why not to mix one awesome n' beloved thing with another? esp since funny enough, they do have quite a few similar plot-points. well, the halloween themed costume aside. i mean it goes as far as jack once having the bat-themed boyfriend pal, which reminds me of someone else, i know.
anyho'...
i've tried to make my notes more or less readable here, but they still might be a bit scattered. i attempted to keep them as short as possible, but i just cannot talk 'small'.
1. the first art is low-key based on underdeveloped AU, that i have about the early comic scarecrow n' modern jack meeting n' hitting it off serial killiar style. considering, that both of them possess killing methods, which have a noticable tradmark to it, i imagine that they will leave one hell of a mess behind, while traveling across the country. in that timeline, batman is dead. n' jack's shitty foster dad was killed off earlier on. neither of them knows what to do with themselves, since the people who they had *twisted* emotional conection with are gone. without any direction, they meet in the middle, n' decide that they can as well team-up n' try to make being a villain fun again. jon might experiment on their victims *or torture them if its his ex bullies* n' then give them to jack, who would scoop their brains out and put candle inside their skull. n' uh yeah, he literally did it in the comic. i was honestly surpised that marvel come up with smth that creepy. it really sounds more alined with dc, if anything. but either way, here they are. two *grieving* psychos going downtown. they will make one another so much worse, i imagine. n' they will totally kill that npc dude btw.
2. dark magic n' the drip. or jon n' jack at their corniest. like, jonathan looks like he watched too much the nightmare before christmas n' jack dress up like count dracula for no reason. it's so random-ish n' cheesy. but with this being said, i love both of those designs, n' think, that they really suit the vibe of comic issues in which they were featured. jack always came off as a he-witch to me, but it was nice to see it being played on in a different way. n' then, crane really rocks his own outfit as well. i totally need to draw him in it more often, haha. they dress up for a halloween party for real this time. n' well, i added batman n' spiderman into the mix here, bc i kinda wish that they got to fight / interact with those versions of jon n' jack. it would have been fun for a few reasons. also this can be technically counted as shipping art, but can be viewed as your typical gloating bad guy n' helpless hero thing too. n' to clear any possible questions, i only create stuff with adult peter parker. like cartoon era/late early comics, 20 smth one. i love my spiderman being of age, where he can legally mingle with his villains, not be detained at school lol.
3. the classic four from the timeline, when the comic plots were a bit more ligthearted. aka during the times, when the deadly mercenary n' crazy scientist were robbing banks, instead of harming *torturing* people. i love dark stuff, but there is charm to how 'simple' the scarecrow's and jack's goals once were. n' i love how the scarecrow used to do the lil, dorky dances. it really suits him. n' since at least 2 or maybe, most of jack o' lanterns are southernish in their roots like jon, i had an idea of them having a country dance *in the middle of graveyard* kinda just makes sense to me, haha. batman and spiderman merely happen to find them like that. n' well, it's kinda awkward. esp bc they technically don't do anything bad. i also imagine spiderman being like 'oh, so you have one of those too'. which is mostly a ref to how both the scarecrow n' jack were called 'the reject from land of oz' by other characters. they can rejoice here.
4. the develish & undead duo!! my friend once told me to try n' watch older superhero cartoons, and at first i was like 'welp, they prob be hella boring'. but then i caved in, n' watched a couple of superfriends episodes. as result, i fell in love with their scarecrow's desingh! it was unexpected tbh. usually, i prefer jon's older, classic scarecrow look. so no straw hair, less features exposed, just a hat n' a sack on his head, but their version of him actually did it for me. i find their crane both creepy n' cute. n' i also read on wiki, that he might be undead. so that bit interested me as well. non-human jonathan crane, what a concept! him returning from the grave just to be a menace to batman. n' to accompany him, there is an undead jack o' lantern from the ghost rider comic. his corpse literally got possessed by satan. anyways, both of them raised army of zombies. both of them undead n' prob won't ever get out of their spooky suits, since i don't think that they can. n' funny enough, jack's hometown was called sleepy hollows, if i remember correctly. so they can haunt people there, make it into a truly cursed land.
5. the last one was kinda spontaneous on my part. the other day, i was looking at what kind of action figures the scarecrow n' jack have. saw one, where jon was looking kinda strange, all black n' yellow. which is how i find out that he *apparently* got yellow lantern powers in newer comics, even if it was like for 10 seconds or smth. i didn't read the issue itself, but i found the idea kinda fun, n' his design was decent enough for me to get interested n' wonder what i can do with it. then, a bit later, i saw that jack had a venom-funko figure. i don't think, that he was ever canonically venomized in any of the actual comic issues, but once again, the mere idea of it happening was enough for me to consider doing smth with it. i mean, a venom-like tongue, but its made out of fire? dang. that's kinda cool. so yeah. the yellow lantern scarecrow n' symbiote jack o' lantern being the double trouble. if they weren't enough of a mean goblin-man before, now they surely will be.
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kookygranger · 3 months
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Fairytale of Hawkins: Part Two
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Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
A cheesy hallmark Christmas fic inspired by @bettyfrommars's tow truck!Eddie and prompts #1 & #6 from Betty and @allthingsjoeq's Holiday Prompt Party
Summary: A petting zoo, Secret Santa and mistletoe never being around when you need it.
Warnings: reader doesn't have family, reader and Eddie are in their late 20s/early 30s, swearing
Word count: 5.3k
Author's note: Okay, it's 11:54pm on Christmas Eve where I am and this is far from perfect, but I wanted the people who enjoyed the first part to have this for Christmas so here it is. I hope you're all safe and you get moments of peace and joy these holidays.
Part One
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You were handsome You were pretty, Queen of New York City When the band finished playing They howled out for more – Fairytale of New York, The Pogues/Kirsty MacColl
3 Days 'Til Christmas
“So uh, what’s goin’ on with you and Robin’s friend?”
Hawkins town centre is frosted with a light dusting of snow that fell in the early morning hours. Picture perfect, like a Hallmark Christmas card. The hum of festive cheer in the crowds doing last-minute gift shopping and partaking in the charming small-town seasonal activities is mostly drowned out by an argument between Dustin and Lucas, Max and the younger Sinclair sibling rolling their eyes in annoyance. They sit, impatiently waiting for the rest of the party to show up, on the edge of the fountain frozen over with the cold snap that swept through town at the beginning of the week.
Steve’s perched on the back of a bench a few feet away, ignoring the squabble as Eddie toes the ground in front of him.
“First of all, I know you know her name. And B, nothing is going on, she’s a great girl and a really good friend to Robin.” Steve shrugs, “We both told you you’d like her.”
Eddie squints, his leather jacket opening to reveal a dark red sweater as his pocketed hand gestures in question, “Why me specifically?”
Steve shrugs again, “Rob and I both thought you’d hit it off. It just feels…right. Don’t you think?”
“I mean yeah, yeah she’s beautiful. Cute as hell when she gets flustered. But she’s a city girl–used to more than this, right?” He looks around at the small-town square, filled with little kids dressed in matching sweaters and flustered mothers pushing prams with clenched smiles. “She’ll be gone well before the ice on the road thaws.”
“So? What’s wrong with having a little holiday fling?”
Eddie sucks his teeth, “I don’t think I can.”
Steve lets out a low whistle, “You’re that head-over-heels already?”
“No.” Eddie shakes his head, cheeks flushing pink from more than just the bite to the wind, then sighs. “Think if I have a fling I might just get there though. This is Robin’s fault she shouldn’t’ve talked her up so much!” Steve chuckles at his friend’s distress. “Doesn’t help that she looks like a damn angel when the snow’s kissing her eyelashes.”
Steve rubs his face, “Jesus Christ.”
***
You and Robin had vowed to hold off drinking for the rest of the holidays after your night at The Hideout, which was followed by a day spent on the couch, groaning about loud noises as Gremlins beamed across the TV in the darkened living room. When you’d finally managed to peel yourselves away from the nest you’d made out of blankets, large diet sodas and greasy fries from the drive-thru, you decided to cross off making Christmas cookies from Robin’s list of “holiday activities that could make the grinch’s heart grow.” She assured you weren’t the Grinch in this situation but it certainly felt, pointed.
The misshapen sugary treats weigh down your tote bag as you walk arm-in-arm with Robin towards the designated meeting spot.
“I keep making a fool of myself in front of Eddie.”
Robin smirks, “You’re doing fine.”
“I can just be so,” you hold out your hand in a vague gesture and grimace, “sometimes, you know?”
Robin laughs, “Oh, I know.”
“Thanks.”
She squeezes your arm that’s wrapped around hers and shakes her head, “Everybody loves you I promise. And if they don’t yet, they will.” You both round a corner, the fountain and a group of animated college kids coming into view. Steve waves from across the street, Eddie turning his head in your direction then away again quickly when you make eye contact.
“Right.”
***
“C’mon now everyone keep up.” Steve claps his gloved hands together, his cheeks pink and his brows furrowed in faux admonishment as he leads the group towards the petting zoo set up for the weekend in the parking lot of Bradley’s Big Buy supermarket. You can tell by the glisten in his eyes how much it means to him to have all of his found family in one place.
You laugh softly when he claps Dustin on the back and the younger boy tries to shrug off his embrace.
“He’s in his element this time of year.” Eddie falls into stride next to you, the both of you now bringing up the rear of the boisterous group.
You nod, a small smile permanently etched on your face from the company. “I can tell.” You walk the rest of the way in silence, watching the antics of the strange mix of personalities in front of you with a distant bemusement as you tried and failed to come up with something to say. Had you called him sexy at one point the other night or did you dream that?
The stench of hay and something less savoury wafts over you as you all enter the car park under a bright red banner with ‘Petting Zoo’ written in white cursive on it. You’re about to ask Eddie if they did this every year when a middle-aged woman stops you with a brochure held out in front of you.
“Have you found Jesus?” She’s standing by the entrance in a matching woollen navy-blue coat and skirt, heels on her stocking-clad feet and hair quaffed perfectly in a bob accentuated by the pearls on her ears and neck.
You don’t even think about your response before it slips out, “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise he was missing.” You can see Eddie smirk out of the corner of your eye. It was just meant to be a light-hearted joke, but the woman clearly didn’t see the humour.
She purses her lips in a thin line and snatches the brochure back out of your reach. “I should’ve known you were one of his type.” You keep walking along, her voice changed back into a sweeter version as she asks the next person the same question behind you.
You turn to Eddie, his eyes downcast and shoulders higher than they were a second ago. “What type are you?”
He rubs the back of his neck underneath the black knitted scarf that matches his beanie. “Uh, devil worshipper according to this town.”
“Oh, I’m actually lapsed. Found all that sacrificing was getting in the way of my day job you know?”
The smile that catches at the corners of his mouth makes your tummy flip.
“I know whattya mean.” He nods, all dramatics with his feigned seriousness, “So much laundry with all those blood-stained clothes.”
“Right? Such a hassle.” You both laugh as you look at each other. “Do they actually think that?”
Eddie shrugs, “It was worse when I was in high school, but I still get the odd bit of holy water thrown in my direction.”
“Why?” You shake your head and frown, serious this time. “Just because you listen to Motorhead?”
“That and I was the leader of the Dungeons and Dragons club in high school. It’s a game for nerds really, but it kinda got swept up into the satanic panic that was going around at the time.”
“That’s so…dumb.”
He huffs a laugh through his nose, watching your feet walk in sync together. “Yeah, I guess it is.” His head snaps back up, “Wait, how do you know Motorhead?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” You bump his shoulder and scoff, “Did you just judge a book by her cover Eddie the devil worshipper?” He opens his mouth to speak but his reply is cut off by an animalistic snort that has your head turning in curiosity. You gasp as you spot the furry brown creatures leaning into patting hands over a wooden fence, “They actually do have reindeer here!”
Eddie grins as your face lights up. “Did you think they were lying?”
You shake your head, “I thought they’d just be regular deer. I’ve never seen–“ You grab Eddie’s leather-clad arm in your excitement and he looks down at your touch before you bound off towards Robin who’s laughing at your reaction.
El and Max have to coax you into actually patting one when you get closer, the antlers much more intimidating in person. They giggle as you squeal and pull back your hand when a cloud of condensation escapes from the deer’s nostrils as it huffs loudly.
You turn to laugh with them, distracted as the reindeer leans in closer, your body tensing when you feel its hot breath on the back of your neck before it snatches your scarf from around your shoulders. The girls yell as you whip around to see it trot off, barely processing what just happened when you feel a warm hand on your back, Eddie’s frame coming into view as he slips past you and jumps the fence. He’s able to grab the scarf out of the creature’s mouth and sneak back onto your side of the fence before anyone who works there even notices.
You’re speechless as he hands your scarf back to you, El and Max cheering along with Robin and Nancy who’d noticed the commotion.
The younger girls are giggling again when Max interrupts the silent look you and Eddie share while the scarf is held in between the both of you. “You’re a real knight in shining armour this week Munson.” He looks up at Max as she and El walk away, looking for their boyfriends to ask if they’d brave a reindeer pen for them.
“Thank you, Eddie.” You take the scarf from his hands, grimacing at the wet patch on the light fabric. “Don’t know if you can get reindeer drool out of cashmere though.”
He snorts, “Maybe you shouldn’t have worn something so expensive to a petting zoo, princess.”
You brush off the nickname, not entirely sure if it was meant in jest. “You know I’m a feminist, I’m gonna need you to stop coming to my rescue Eddie.”
He smirks, “I don’t think that’s feminism, I think that’s stubborn independence to the point of detriment.”
He was taunting. Flirting really, but Eddie forgets it takes time for people to figure out he’s not just being grumpy all the time. That he isn’t as mean as his initial wariness of people might suggest. For a second he forgets that you haven’t always been a part of this group – that you don’t know him like the others do.
The awestruck look that had graced your face drops. “Jeez okay, I didn’t realise we were reading each other.” His eyes go wide as you shrink into yourself. “You know, I realise you probably don’t like me very much and you might feel like I’m ruining your time with your friends at Christmas, but I am trying Eddie.”
He hates the way your eyes begin to water.
“Robins told me so much about all of you, I know how much you all mean to each other and I really didn’t want to intrude on that, but she insisted that it would be okay. She’s letting me spend the holidays with her family because I don’t have one, and I don’t want her to regret that.” You look down at your feet, “I’ll make sure to stay out of your way from now on.” 
Eddie clenches his eyes shut as you walk away to find Robin or anyone else who won’t mind you joining in.
“Nice work Munson.”
***
Once the group have had their share of reindeer petting and eaten the cookies you and Robin had brought along with some hot cocoa from a nearby stand, everyone gathers in the town square again for the annual Secret Santa. You’re huddled together with Robin, head leaning against hers as you steal each other’s warmth and the group gathers in a circle, Steve tossing pieces of paper with everyone’s name written on them into his beanie.
Eddie keeps stealing glances at you as Steve goes around the group, dramatically holding a gloved hand to each of the teens’ eyes and yelling, “No peeking!”
Eddie feels shit. He can’t believe he’s made you feel unwelcome. Well, he can. He knows he can be guarded when it comes to letting new people into his life, but you’re one of Robin’s best friends – spending Christmas with her because you don’t have anywhere else to go and he’s made you feel like he doesn’t want you here. Asshole.
When Steve gets round to you and Robin, he holds the hat out to her then moves on to Jonathan and Argyle next. You figure you’re too new to the group to partake in this tradition, which seems fair. Steve rounds out the wonky circle with Eddie, dropping the beanie with a “whoops” before fumbling on the ground with it, then holding it out to Eddie. You notice him squinting his eyes in suspicion, wondering what’s going on between them when Steve comes back to you.
“Lucky last,” he smiles that charming cherub grin of his and you reach into the beanie to pull the last piece of paper out.
Of course it would be.
Steve reminds everyone of the budget and secret part of Secret Santa with a pointed look at Mike, who frowns in offence before the group starts heading off in different directions.
Robin moves to stand in front of you. “Who’d ya get? Do you need help? I can bend the rules for you seeing as you don’t properly know everyone.”
“Yeah, I feel like I’m a bit disadvantaged.” You laugh nervously, “I uh, I got Eddie.”
“Oh great! He’s easy. Big nerd, you know what he likes.” She starts counting off on her fingers, “Music, DnD, Lord of the Rings and all that fantasy stuff.”
“Yeah, I guess.” You shrug.
She hooks her arm with yours again, “C’mon let’s go together, I got Nancy. I feel like you’ll be better at picking something for her than me.”
***
After an hour and a half, you’re about ready to give up. You helped pick out a faux-leather journal and fountain pen set for Nancy from Robin, but you haven’t been able to find anything remotely good for Eddie’s gift. Everything feels impersonal like something he could’ve just picked up himself and the last thing you want is for him to be disappointed that you got him for the gift exchange. Just another friend-only activity that your presence has ruined.
You’re currently browsing through a second-hand bookstore, hoping to find something you can curl up on the couch in your apartment with during the rest of the holidays, while Robin’s popped into the bath and body shop across the street to look for a gift for her aunt.
Your eyes scan the hardbacks in the fantasy section, fingers running lightly across the spines when they come to a stop on a light green book. You tilt the book from the shelf, admiring the mountains and dragon carved in navy blue adorning the border. This could be perfect. Carefully opening the worn cover, you find an inscription written in the yellowed pages that makes you smile. You close the book softly and head to the counter to ring it up. Maybe he wouldn’t be disappointed.
Dear Henry,
In celebration of our mutual liking – I hope Bilbo becomes a friend as well.
Happy Birthday,
Love, your Arwen
***
Christmas Eve
The butcher paper wrapped gift sat heavy in your palm as you’re greeted by Steve in his living room when you and Robin walk in. You hold up the present in question, keen to get rid of it before your clammy hands ruin the red satin bow decorating it, and Steve points you in the direction of the pile under the colourfully lit tree. You take a moment to admire the personal ornaments, the glint of a red 20-sided dice reminding you of the other inhabitant of this apartment.
The famous Harrington Christmas Eve party had been talked up by Robin for months. In her attempt to get you to Hawkins, she promised you a preview of the King Steve you’d heard her tease him so much about (which he vehemently denied was a thing), potently spiked punch (which you would not be partaking in) and impromptu games out on the street that would cause noise complaints from the neighbours.
And now that Steve and Eddie shared an apartment? Apparently, rowdiness was a prerequisite.
You’re more nervous than you should be as you settle in, taking solace in Jonathan and Will’s quiet company on the couch as you sip on a non-spiked mug of egg nog. It isn’t until half an hour later that Eddie even shows up, despite this being his apartment.
He walks into the living room, cheeks red from the cold, snow still sprinkled on his shoulders and in his hair. He’s followed closely by Dustin who’s rugged up in an assortment of knitwear that looks like it was definitely made by a doting family member, and grins when everyone greets him.
“Finally, you two.” Steve walks in from the kitchen with a bowl of freshly poured potato chips. “Everyone’s here, we’re getting ready for Secret Santa.”
Eddie just nods at him, offering you a tight-lipped smile when you catch his eye before he walks over to the tree to place something under it with his back turned to you.
While everyone gathers in the living room, he ducks out. Returning without all the extra layers, his crisp white t-shirt takes you by surprise and your eyes wander to the silver chain around his neck.
Pull it together, honestly.
“Okay, I’m first!” Robin walks across the room to the tree by the front window, only to be stopped by Steve’s arm.
“What? Why are you first?”
“Well, someone has to be dingus. Why not me?” 
“Uh, maybe we should let our guest be the first?” Everyone turns their head towards you and the attention makes you sink further into the couch.
“Oh, no Robin is always first.” You wink in her direction, then frown. “Wait, did that sound weird?” You look at Jonathan and Will who both chuckle, the older boy giving you a shrug.
After Robin tears through her present the decision is made to go anti-clockwise around the room. The closer it gets to Eddie who’s sitting on the couch opposite you, the more your palms begin to sweat. You don’t think your heart could take him being indifferent to his gift, and you hated that you cared so much about what he thought. What was this town doing to you?
When Steve hands Eddie his gift your back automatically straightens, perched perilously on the edge of your seat you grip the mug of egg nog in your hands. He takes his time with unwrapping, not diving straight in and tearing like you would’ve expected, even draping the ribbon around his neck once he’s untied it. When he gets to the gift the room is mostly silent, save for the Christmas carols playing from the stereo in the corner. You’d already clocked The Kinks, The Damned and Ramones – sure that the boy who held your last ditch gesture in his hands had picked the tunes.
Eddie’s face is stoic as his fingers run along the cover of the book. When Dustin and Mike, sat near him spot what it is they share exclamations of “Sick”, but you’re more interested in the metalhead’s opinion. You take in a deep breath as he opens the well-preserved cover and you watch his eyes read the inscriptions.
After much back and forth you’d decided to leave your own message next to the original one. Writing in pencil in case he wanted to erase it.
He rubs his freshly shaven jaw then his eyes find yours across the room. They’re soft. Pools of awe that match the tone of his quiet voice.
“Thank you.”
You offer him a small smile, “You’re welcome.”
“How did you know it was from her?” Dustin pipes up from his seat on the floor.
“Lucky guess.” His eyes hadn’t left yours until then, and you watch him scan the message again.
Dear Eddie,
I know you’re already well acquainted but I thought what better company on a long winter’s night than the second best party to go on adventures with (second only to your own of course).
Merry Christmas,
C.G.
xx
You feel his eyes on you as the rest of the gift-giving takes place around you. Wiping the sweat off your palms now that the moment was over, but the tension you’d felt hadn’t lifted from your chest – only tethered itself to the cause that was sitting across the room lightly brushing his thumb over your offering.
You’re the last in line to open your Secret Santa, but the attention of the room has been caught up in the gifts that have already been revealed. You’re admiring the new camera bag Jonathan is turning over in his hands when Steve taps you on the shoulder. He holds out a small parcel that fits in the palm of his hand and winks at you when you take it, before walking over to sit by Dustin.
You look down at the parcel wrapped in shiny red paper, tugging at the twine tied around it when you feel the weight of the couch shift beside you.
Eddie takes up more room than Jonathan who’s now sitting on the arm of the sofa across from you with Nancy’s arm draped over his leg. He’s manspreading a little, but the only reason you notice is because of the close proximity of his knee to yours.
“You got me,” he gestures to the gift in your hands, “I mean I got you. Well, I guess both are true.” He holds up his new copy of The Hobbit and smiles softly.
You look down at your lap again and begin to unwrap your present, Eddie’s leg bouncing next to yours. A glint catches your eye as a pair of dangly ruby earrings is revealed.
“They’re not real obviously,” Eddie scratches his jaw, “and Robin said you’d be happy with anything, like a snow globe or candy but I saw these in the drugstore and thought they’d look good on you.”
You smile, “Eddie they’re really pretty. Thank you so much.”
He blows out a puff of air, “You like them?”
“I love them, honestly. Oh, look we match!” You hold out the earrings next to the ring on his finger sporting a small ruby stone.
His cheeks are dusted in pink as he smiles, “Yeah, I guess we do.” You ask him to hold the earrings you had in before as you swap them. “You don’t have to put them on now.”
“I know, I want to.”
His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, mesmerised as he watches you put on his earrings. “What does C.G. mean by the way?” He opens the book in his lap again.
“City girl.” The frown on his face troubles you momentarily before he speaks again, doe eyes pining you down once more.
“Thank you. It’s really special. You’re really–“ He trails off, eyes searching yours as you wait for him to finish his sentence. But he doesn’t. Instead, he gets up so abruptly that you flinch. “I gotta uh, find something…I’ll be back.”
You turn to Will who had been not so subtly watching the whole exchange from the other side of the couch and gives you a sympathetic smile when you say, “I still don’t know where I stand with him.”
***
For the next twenty minutes, you only see glimpses of Eddie as he darts in and out of rooms. Stomping around like he’s on a mission, a crease etched deeply in his brow. While Nancy and El are admiring your earrings in the kitchen, you hear a squeak of shoes on the linoleum before you see a blur of brown hair disappear around the corner.
You excuse yourself, finding Eddie alone in the hallway, leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed and head tilted to the ceiling.
“Eddie, are you okay?” He shakes his head and huffs out a bitter laugh. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s always goddamn mistletoe at these things. Steve always gets drunk and tortures people with it, but then this year? Of course there’s none!”
You step closer, now standing in front of him but he doesn’t meet your eye. You’re confused. “Why do you need mistletoe?”
“So I have an excuse to kiss you.”
Oh.
OH.
Wait, what?
“Why don’t you just…kiss me?”
His head snaps down, eyes flickering back and forth between yours with a frown. “Can I?”
You bite your lip to stop the enormous smile threatening to creep onto your face. “Yes Eddie, you can kiss me.”
He pushes himself off the wall, crowding your space and reaching a hand out tentatively to touch your face, thumb gently stroking your skin like he had the book. He searches your eyes for any hesitation before he leans in slowly until your fluttering lashes tickle his cheek and he can’t take it anymore. The kiss is as soft as the snow falling in flurries outside, one elongated peck before you're both leaning in for another, and another. Turning tender as he reaches his other hand to pull you closer by the waist. You can taste peppermint on him, probably from one of the candy canes hanging on the tree, but it’s the warmth from his chest and the heady scent of his cologne and smoke that clings to his shirt that has you lost in him. So lost that when his thumb gently pulls down on the side of your mouth, you let him in with no hesitation, his tongue now spreading his warmth from the inside.
“Wow, that got R-rated really quick.” You jump and lean back, not moving far with Eddie’s grip still on your waist. You look down the hall and catch Robin nodding with a look of slight disgust on her face next to a smirking Steve standing there with his arms crossed.
Eddie bows his head and sighs, “Really? Think you can maybe take the commentary somewhere else Harrington?”
He holds up his hands in defence, a leafy twig with white berries hanging from his hand. “Hey, I was just coming to give you two a push, but it looks like the party’s already started.”
Eddie pinches the skin in between his brows, “For fuck sake.” You cover your mouth with your hand at the sight of the deep blush creeping into his cheeks, which deepens even further when you both hear Dustin yell from the other room.
“Did he kiss her yet?!”
Eddie groans and moves his hand to the small of your back to guide you out the door, flipping off the audience at the end of the hall before grabbing your coats off the hanger. He helps you into yours and leads you outside the apartment building by your hand.
For the first time since you arrived in Hawkins, you don’t notice the cold that greets you, focused entirely on Eddie’s warmth as he crowds you against the brick wall of the building. He holds one arm above you, almost enveloping you in his soft waves when he leans in.
That intense gaze has you shying away again, opting to play with the zipper of his jacket instead of looking back.
“You really liked your gift that much huh?”
“I really like you.” He tilts your chin up.
“I didn’t think–“
“I’m sorry if I made you feel unwelcome,” he frowns. “I have trouble letting people in.”
You shake your head and he moves his hand to stroke along your jaw. “It’s okay, this is a very special family I’ve walked into. I understand why you’d be wary of anyone disturbing that.”
“You fit right in. I promise.”
“Thank you, Eddie.”
He smirks, “Also, I’m just really, really bad at flirting when it comes to drop-dead gorgeous city girls.”
You grin, “I think you’re probably better at it than you think.”
He leans in, lips a breath away from yours, “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
***
Christmas Day
The screen door shudders under your touch as you knock on the trailer, your gloved hand coming back to wrap around the translucent cake plate tucked into your chest. You hear muffled footsteps before the inside door swings open to reveal a beaming Eddie on the other side.
“Hi,” you smile.
You step back to let him open the screen door and he meets you with half a step out, grabbing the plate from you before placing a gentle kiss on your lips that has you desperate for more.
“Hi, sweet girl. C’mon in.”
You follow his warmth, “There’s only half left of the cheesecake. I’m sorry Robin and her family already ate most of it, then I kind of hid it when I realised I didn’t have anything to bring over – I think it tastes pretty good though. And I brought this wine, which is all they had left at the store and it only came in this gigantic bulk size, I think it might be half water–”
You feel Eddie’s smile as he presses his lips to yours again, “It’s okay sweetheart. You didn’t have to bring anything.” “I know, but I wanted to make a good first impression and we both know that I…don’t.”
He chuckles, “Trust me, I was blown away as soon as you stepped outta that car.”
You roll your eyes, snappy reply dying on your tongue when you hear a door open and an older man walks down the short hallway towards you. “Hi, Mr Munson.” Eddie squeezes your shoulder as you step forward with your hand held out and introduce yourself. “Thank you so much for having me, I hope I’m not intruding on your Christmas.”
“Nonsense,” he frowns at you, the resemblance uncanny, and brings you in for a tight hug. “Please call me Wayne, darlin’. Honestly, Ed’s been bouncing off the walls waiting for you to come so you might be able to do me a favour and get him to sit still.”
“We were just watching Gremlins.”
“Oh, I love that film! I didn’t get to appreciate it the other day because I was hungover–I mean…we were busy baking cookies.” You feel Eddie’s chuckle on the side of your face.
“She brought baked goods and wine, Wayne. All for lil’ old us.” He squeezes your shoulder again.
“It’s not any good.” You hold out the cheap bottle to Eddie’s uncle.
“Oh hell, anything you can uncork, uncap or unscrew, I’ll drink it.”
You laugh, shoulders relaxing under Eddie’s subtle massage.
***
You feel light.
Floaty and fuzzy with the laughter coming from beside you, your body sinking into the worn couch and Eddie’s gentle stroking of the back of your hand grounding you in the moment. The Munson’s, like almost everybody else in Hawkins had welcomed you into their home with open arms.
It was Christmas and you were curled up on the couch with a boy who meant something to you. Allowed to be a part of a family if only for a short period.
“So little miss, you headin’ home tomorrow?” You turn to Wayne, who’s sitting in his armchair, eating a piece of the cheesecake you plated up for him with Eddie’s help.
“I was planning on it, but you know the airport gets so busy during the holidays and Robin’s still gonna be here so…I think I might just stay till New Year, actually.”
Eddie’s head snaps from the TV set towards you. He grips your hand a little tighter to get your attention.
“Is that right?”
You turn to him, “Yeah. Are you–are you gonna be around?”
“No,” he shakes his head, frowning in that way that’s starting to make your heart flutter, “I gotta work. Lotta damsels in distress needin’ me to rescue them from the side of the road.” You feel the heat creep up your neck as Wayne rolls his eyes at his nephew.
“Wanna ride shotgun?”
~ THE END ~
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Tagging: @eddieslooneymoonie, @micheledawn1975 – thank you for asking!
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crushedsweets · 4 months
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nina and jeff headcanons ?? like what was there relationship like ?? love your work btw
i just lost my mind in chat about them. this is gonna be a LOT. nina probably has the most complicated story in my AU because her motives are all over the place and everything with jeff is terrible. ok letsgo
General rundown of their childhood/teens in my au: nina got sent to live w her grandparents when she was around 14 and got caught cutting the smile into her cheeks (very surface level scars that healed after a few weeks). she robbed her grandparents and ran away when she was 18 when she found out jeff&liu were in alabama. never killed anyone.
jeffs story is relatively close to canon, until he made a deal with slenderman to go more.. undercover with his murder.... and kill less. now he's chilling in alabama. robs his victims. THEIR CURRENT RELATIONSHIP..
now theyre in their early-mid 20s when they meet, this isnt the first time jeffs ran into a freaky fangirl. this is the first time he's given it a shot.
jeff uses nina. sure, he's physically attracted to her - she's pretty, takes good car of herself, etc - but he has no place in his heart to love her. he finds her annoying, too chatty, and he does think her infatuation is pathetic - he just knows it benefits him
for the first bit of their 'relationship', he was just testing the limits. coming over unannounced, telling her to make him some dinner, leaving laundry for her to do.
he'd let her kiss him, sit on his lap, hug him, so on and so forth - but he wasn't one to initiate & he wasn't crazy interested in entertaining her. eventually, she started meeting the other creeps, and by time she was intertwined in their life as well, he pushed even further.
he made nina suddenly show up at crime scenes, lie to cops on his behalf. toss some bloody clothes in her trunk and hope she doesn't get caught. make her handle burning up some official documents from his victims, even if it didn't help hide anything - he just wanted to see what she'd do.
one time they drove a victim's car into a lake together. she wasn't really sure what he was doing at the time, but he was speeding, and they were in a car heading straight for a lake, and she started to panic, and telling him to slow down , and he didn't. before she knew it they were both climbing out of a lake coughing up nasty ass lake water. she would've been crying cuz it'd have scared her so bad, but jeff would've been filled with so much adrenaline. he'd be grabbing her, spinning her and laughing, and for the first time he seemed genuinely fucking hyped to be with her - so she wiped off her tears and they went home and she made them dinner. like nothing happened.
but he's only willing to entertain her for so long. after 5 months, he gets really fucking snappy(he always was), and begins screaming at her for fucking everything. if she can't get a stain out of his hoodie, he's mad. if she doesn't have dinner ready by time he's hungry, he's mad. he'll stop coming home for weeks, ignore her texts. if she doesn't call back when he finally contacts her after a month, he's mad.
he eventually gets impossible to please. but she doesn't quit, and eventually, he decides to take shit a step further.
one night after a long shift, nina comes home. theres mud tracked through her house, and she knows it was jeff. aside from the mess, she's beyond excited - she stumbles through the house looking for him, and she finally swings open the bathroom door and is mortified.
in her bathtub, there is a body wrapped in trash bags and duct tape. it smells disgusting and there's a bag with tools sprawled on the floor. a saw, more heavy duty trash bags, bleach - and a note telling her to handle it.
nina wasn't built for this, she was the type of girl to cry if she stepped on a cats tail. she didn't even like getting into arguments.
but she can't call the cops, so she does what he asks. she dismembers the body, bleaches her bathroom, gets the remains in a suitcase, and drags it out to the forest. she spent the entire time sobbing, throwing up, fainting, having to cry in a different room because she couldn't sit with the corpse anymore. it took probably 10 hours for her to get it all out of the way. she runs into a proxy as she's doing it, and they help her out. they get rid of the body for her deep in the forest. she spends the night at the proxy's cabin, crying herself to sleep on the couch. the next morning nobody comes to comfort her. she realizes just how much she's fucked up
that wouldn't have been the last time jeff left a body for her to clean up
eventually toby and clocky start coming over to handle it from the get go. they care about her by now. toby beats jeffs ass after the fourth time
after that, jeff goes to confront nina. smth smth "why the fuck are you telling people" and she starts crying and yelling back for the first time, and he gets so fucking mad he stabs her in the stomach - a little above her hip, a couple inches from her belly button.
nina would go to liu. she had been stalking him for some time and leaving him emails, letters, fanmail. nina would be hysterical, crying and begging him to help her, but refusing to let him call 911 - she was scared of going to jail, of sending jeff to jail.
by this point, liu would've hired jane (an unethical private investigator) to investigate nina. so liu calls jane.
jane would know the creeps because slender sent sally to haunt(and then live with) jane, so she'd bring nina to jack. this would be lius first time interacting with the other creeps.
from here on out, nina would really start trying to get away from jeff . a long fucking fight for herself . luckily she already formed a decent friendship with clocky and toby by this point - and mayhaps a crush on kate .. but that last part is just for me.. :3... LOL
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itslenagain · 5 days
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My thoughts on episodes 1-3 of Netflix ATLA (SPOILERS):
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1. Commander Zhao has middle-aged white guy manager energy. I feel like this man is about to lead me in a team-building exercise
2. Aang having his origin story changed irks me! He ran away impulsively in the original show and got stuck in the ice. In this version, he fully monologs to Appa about his fears, but then just leaves for a joyride and gets stuck. It takes away from the significance of Aang leaving in the first place. When Kyoshi berates him for running away, it doesn't feel right because in this version, he didn't really run - he just got stuck in the wrong place at the wrong time
3. The Zuko that stood on an iceberg during a full Moon and challenged Katara to battle would be absolutely enraged at the Zuko that ran from the conflict in Omashu
4. Also, the fact that Zuko has not mentioned honor yet? What the fuck?
5. Seriously, Commander Zhao has a LinkedIn. He's got great networking skills
6. I miss aggro Katara. This version is way more subdued (though we do get a sibling fight in episode 3) and somehow listening to Aang's weird circular philosophy helps her learn how to waterbend and I don't get it
7. Seeing Aang be joyful is a nice change from the movie that shall not be mentioned
8. If Gram-Gram putting the waterbending scroll in Katara's bag replaces the storyline where Katara says fuck cultural looting and steals one I will scream
9. It's interesting to see Azula so early in the story, but I'm bummed we missed out on the whole blackmail thing with her & Ty Lee
10. Do you think Commander Zhao pays his employees a fair wage? Do you think they have health insurance? 401k matching? Vacation time? Sick days? What kind of benefits does his company offer?
11. This version of Sokka is definitely not silly enough
12. I feel robbed that Aang got to transform into a magical girl but we didn't get a magical girl transformation sequence
13. Also, we were robbed of Sokka crossdressing as a Kyoshi warrior and they are so rude for that
14. The graphic murder of the Airbenders felt. Weird? Wrong? I don't think we needed to see that. The impact it had when Aang arrived at the temple to find all of them gone in the original show felt heavier than in this version. We saw what happened, we know they're all dead. As a kid watching ATLA the first time, I remember feeling hopeful for Aang that maybe he wasn't really the last one. We don't get to feel that with this version
15. They did not understand Uncle Iroh at all. His character is so weird. Maybe it gets better???
16. The pacing is weird but maybe that gets better too???
17. I have never related more than when Ozai just burned that Earth nation dude who was about to start monologing, please shut up in my presence
18. Apparently everywhere has names?? Who decided on these names?
19. As a lesbian I also get horny on main immediately for girls who could definitely kick my ass, Sokka was so real for that
20. Overall I think they lean into the idea that the audience for this show is primarily older than the audience for the original (they're not totally wrong!) but I worry about it losing some of the messaging along the way. Part of the beauty of the original ATLA show was tackling these big, complex issues in a way that both kids and adults could relate to and understand. Anyone who knows me knows I also love Bluey for this, along with a few other shows that do it well. Media like ATLA that tackles the ideas of colonization, genocide, war, and so many other important issues is crucial! I hope that these topics are handled just as well as they were in the original series.
Am I going to watch the whole thing? Probably, yeah. Will I enjoy it? I hope so! It's not terrible, but it's also hard to do a show that has so much nostalgia attached to it in a way that will please all viewers.
If you haven't watched it, I think it's worth a shot. Just don't expect it to be an exact retelling of the original story.
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sarahisgay01 · 1 year
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Can you write a Robin x Reader where the reader has been bad like masturbating without permission or talking back and Robin punishes reader by making her take her strap-on and before Robin is like “no don’t beg now you know what you did princess, now take mommy’s c*ck”
I got you!! I’ll incorporate both for you anon don’t worry😊 (I’m so sorry this took so long!!)
Minors DNI (18+ Only!!!!)
You Just Can’t Listen, Can You?
Mommy!Dom!Robin x Sub!Brat!Reader
Notes: Robin and Reader are in an established relationship, mommy kink, degrading, reader has a praise kink, overstimulation
You love visiting your girlfriend, Robin, at work. Especially on days that you know are slow and she’s the only one working. You came in on a Tuesday morning, the day you know nobody ever comes in, maybe one or two customers. Robin was just sitting at the counter and when she saw you, her jaw dropped. You were wearing a very short skirt and a shirt that highlighted your cleavage. When you walked into the store, she said “(Y/N), what are you- what are you doing?” You decided to act innocent, so you smiled and replied, “Robs, what’re you talking about?” Robin rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t play dumb with me, (Y/N). Why are you dressed like that, sweetheart?” Acting like you were confused, you said, “Ohhhh, my outfit” and Robin rolled her eyes again. You batted your eyelashes and said, “Do you not like it, mommy? I wore it just for you.” Robin replied, “I knew it. You fucking tease, come here.” Happily, you skipped over to her and once you were in her arms reach, she pulled you in for a kiss. You said, “Maybe we should go in the back room for a couple minutes.” Robin nodded, then you lead her in there. She closed the door behind her and pushed you up against it. Her lips quickly met yours and as her hand went to touch your ass, she realized you weren’t wearing any underwear. She pulled away from the kiss and grinned, then said, “(Y/N), you’re such a little slut, aren’t you? Wearing such a short skirt with no underwear underneath. Plus this blouse that shows so much of your boobs.” You grinned and replied, “I’m only a slut for you, mommy.” Robin hummed, then grazed a finger through the folds of your pussy. She moaned when she felt how wet you were and said, “Sweetheart, you’re so wet for mommy.” You nodded and said, “Mhmmm, need you mommy. Please. I need you, mommy.” Robin giggled and said, “You’ll have to wait until later, princess. Mommy has to work. When I get off, I’ll come right over, okay sweetheart?” You pouted and said, “Mommy, now please. Please, mommy!” In a more stern tone, Robin said, “No. You’ll be patient and wait. No touching yourself either, (Y/N). Do you understand?” You crossed your arms and pouted, then replied back with a grumble. She said, “I know, princess. Just be patient for mommy and wait a couple hours, okay?” While pouting, you said, “Fine” and Robin said, “Okay. Can mommy get a kiss, princess?” You hesitantly nodded, then leaned in and kissed her. She kissed you softly and intimately, then when she released, you whined. Robin said, “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I have to get back to work. I’ll see you in a couple hours though, I promise.” You nodded with sad puppy dog eyes and said, “Okay. I love you” with a small pout on your face. Robin gave you a kiss on your forehead and said, “I love you too, sweetheart. I’ll see you so soon, I promise.” You nodded, then left out the back door, while Robin went back to the main part of the store. The next couple hours, it was really hard to focus, between your imagination of what Robin was going to do to you later and the aching feeling between your legs. You were trying to be patient, but ultimately you couldn’t do it anymore. The aching feeling became too much and you thought you had enough time to cum at least once, before Robin got to your house, that she’d never know that you masturbated without permission. What you didn’t know was that Robin called Steve to ask if he could come in 20 minutes early and he agreed.
You were naked in your bed, legs propped wide open, clothes scattered all over the floor. Your hand made it’s way in between your legs and when one of your fingers touched your clit, a loud moan of relief escaped your lips. Since it was the middle of the day, your parents were at work, so you could be as loud as you wanted. You were completely zoned out, solely focused on making yourself cum, making yourself feel good. The moans you were letting out were loud enough for you not hear Robin walk through the door. You were so zoned out that you didn’t hear her saying your name from your front door. Robin saw the light from your bedroom through the crack of your door and thought you might have fallen asleep, so she made her way up the stairs. It wasn’t until she got halfway up the stairs that she realized why you weren’t responding. She walked into your room and saw you, legs wide open, rubbing your clit, making yourself feel so good. She said, “(Y/N), what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You were so close to your orgasm, but you knew the situation would only get worse if you didn’t stop. Reluctantly, you retracted your hand and stopped your movements, then looked at her. You broke one of her only rules, so it was written all over her face that she was mad. She said, “I told you not to touch yourself, (Y/N). You just can’t listen, can you? Now mommy has to punish you. Put your clothes on, we’re going to my house.” Since you didn’t get to finish, you were grumpy and now had an attitude. You said, “You can’t make me” and Robin raised her eyebrows, shocked at your boldness. She said, “Oh? So now you want to be a fucking brat too? Alright, (Y/N).” Robin walked over to you, took her hand and gripped it around your neck. You let out a small whine and she said, “I’d suggest you stop talking back, or else you’re just going to make your punishment worse. Do you understand?” You responded, “Fuck you. You’re mean, all I wanted to do was cum.” She tightened her grip slightly and said, “If you don’t stop with this fucking attitude, you won’t cum for a fucking month. Now, we’re going back to my house, do you understand? If you want to cum, I’d take that offer instead of continuing to act like a bratty little slut, princess.” You stuttered and choked out, “A- A mon- month?” Robin nodded and replied, “A month, (Y/N).” You said, “O- Okay, mommy. We can- We can go back to your house.” Robin said, “Good girl, princess”, then released her hand from your neck. She realized the praise went straight to your head, so she said, “Be a good girl and put your clothes back on.” You nodded rapidly, then said, “Yes mommy” and quickly put on your clothes. Robin watched as you quickly put on your clothes and giggled. She said, “Such a needy little slut. So desperate to cum. Come on princess, grab your keys and lets go back to mommy’s house”, her giggling made you whine. You said, “Y- Yes mommy”, then grabbed your keys and made your way out the door in a hurry.
Robin’s house wasn’t far from yours, you drove there as quickly as possible without heavily speeding. The car ride there was silent, neither one of you spoke a word. When you arrived at Robin’s house, Robin said, “Take your shoes off at the door, then we will be going straight to my room. Be a good girl and do what mommy says.” You nodded and said, “Y- Yes mommy, I’ll be- I’ll be good now. I- I promise.” She rolled her eyes and said, “It’s a little too late for that princess.” You whimpered, but Robin just ignored it. She unlocked the door and as soon as you stepped inside, you took your shoes off. Then, you waited for her to take hers off, so the two of you could go to her room. Once her shoes were off, she looked at you, then grabbed your wrist and lead you to her room. After walking in, she closed the door and said, “Mommy doesn’t think you deserve to wear clothes, especially with that filthy fucking mouth of yours. Take them off.” You whimpered and said, “Y- Yes mommy”, then did what she said. After about a minute, your bare body was in front of her and she stared at it with a grin on her face. Condescendingly, Robin said, “Wow! Look at you being a good girl now. If only you were this good before, then I wouldn’t have to punish you.” You whimpered again and said “Mommy, I’m- I’m sorry.” She replied back, “You’re only sorry cause you got caught, princess. After I’m done punishing you, (Y/N), you’re never going to want to touch yourself without permission again.” A loud whimper and tears filled your eyes out of nervousness, your mind was racing, thinking about what she was going to do to you. Robin grabbed a bag from her closet, then looked at you and said, “Be a good girl for mommy and lay down on the bed. I’ll be back in a couple minutes. If you touch yourself, you will not cum for a month. I don’t care how much you beg, it will be a month. Do you understand?” You nodded rapidly and said, “Yes mommy! I promise! I promise I’ll be a good girl for you!” She watched as you laid down on the bed, propped up on your elbows. Robin responded, “Mhmmm, I’ll be back.” Then, she walked out and you laid there, wondering what she was doing. When she walked back into the room, your eyes fell to her waist and you swore they were bulging out of your head. Robin came in only wearing a strap-on, but one you haven’t seen before. This one was bigger than your normal ones, you looked at Robin with a bit of fear in your eyes. You mumbled, “M- M- Mommy, it’s so- it’s so big.” Robin grinned and said, “Mhmmm, it’s going to fill and stretch that pretty little pussy of yours, princess.” You whined and whimpered, wanting to feel full, but scared it might hurt. Robin started walking towards you, then climbed on top of you, a knee on each side of your body. She could see the fear in your eyes, so she kissed you, hoping that would help you calm down. It was a sweet kiss, one that started out as purely love, but you kissed her back with need, turning it into a kiss of lust. Robin kissed down to your neck and sucked a dark mark there on one of your tender spots. You breathily moaned out, “Fuck mommy” and she hummed. She left three marks on your neck and when she released, Robin said, “I have to mark my princess, so that she knows who she belongs to.” As Robin was sliding down your body, you said, “Y- You mo- mommy, I belong- I belong to you, m- m- mommy.” Robin said, “Good girl, (Y/N)”, then bit down on your nipple, not too hard, but enough that you felt a bit of pain. You moaned out, “Oh fuck”, then she started flicking your nipple with her tongue rapidly and you moaned out “Mommy, so good.” She bit your nipple again, this time harder, causing you to make a sound that was a mix between a whimper and a whine. As she was moving to give the other side the same attention, Robin condescendingly said, “Aw, I’m sorry princess, did that hurt?”, then chuckled. Before you could answer, she bit down on your other nipple, causing you to moan. After she was done playing with your breasts, she slid down your body, until her head was in between your thighs.
She looked at your pussy and said, “Aw princess you’re soaking wet. I might not even have to use the lube cause you’re such a little slut for mommy.” You whined and it got louder as you felt Robin start to nip at the skin in between your thighs. Your hips kept bucking up, so Robin roughly pushed them down into the mattress and held them there. Once she was done, she blew on your aching, throbbing clit. Again, your hips tried to buck up, but you couldn’t move, her hold was too strong, she was too strong. She pulled her head back slightly and she was giggling. Robin said, “(Y/N), I love that your hips keep trying to buck up, even though you and I both know they’re not going to break my hold.” You whined, but it wasn’t long before it turned into a moan when you felt Robin’s tongue lick up a stripe through your folds. Her tongue stayed on your clit and she hummed at the taste of you. The vibrations made you moan louder and got you closer to your climax. Soon, your legs began to shake and that’s when Robin pulled her head away. You whined and she said, “You taste so good, sweetheart. So sweet, (Y/N).” She licked her lips as you whined again, then said, “Mmmm so sweet for mommy, princess.” Your hips tried to buck up again, but you still couldn’t move, her hold was still there. She giggled and said, “You’re so easy to tease, sweetheart.” Before you could respond, her tongue was back on your clit, this time licking rapidly. You loudly moaned out, “Fuck mommy!” and she hummed, getting you closer to the feeling you’re craving. It didn’t take long for you to start feeling your orgasm forming inside you. You were on the edge, so close to what you wanted, but when your legs switched from shaking to spasming, Robin pulled her head away. You whimpered and she said, “God, if I could edge you all day with my tongue, I would. You just taste so good, sweetheart.” Your hips bucked up as you whined and Robin said, “Oh? Did you like that, princess?” She gave you a couple seconds to respond and when you didn’t, you felt one of the hands on your hips disappear. Seconds later, Robin took her hand and lightly slapped your pussy, mainly on your clit. You whimpered and she said, “When mommy asks you a question, you answer it, (Y/N). Do you understand?” You loudly replied, “Y- Yes m- mommy! I- I under- I understand!” Robin grinned and said, “Good girl. Now answer mommy’s question.” You responded saying, “Yes mo- mommy, I like- I like it, but- but no edge- no edging.” She said, “So, you want mommy to eat your pretty pussy for hours and make you cum over and over, not stopping until I choose to or you say the safe word?” Your hips bucked up and you replied, “Y- Yes mommy.” She said, “If you’re a good girl, maybe next time, princess.” Your eyes widened and you said, “R- Really?” and Robin replied, “Mhmmm, but only if you take your punishment like a good girl, (Y/N).” Before you could reply, Robin’s tongue was back on your clit, lapping at it slowly. You wanted more, you needed more, but you knew if you begged, that it would do nothing, it would only make your punishment worse. Soon, you were on the edge again, so close to falling over it, so close to release, then it was ripped away from you again. You whimpered loudly at the loss of her tongue and Robin fake pouted, then condescendingly said “Aw, were you close, sweetheart?” You replied, “So cl- close, I- I was- I was so cl- close.” Your eyes started to fill with tears of frustration, but you suddenly realized the hold on your thighs was gone. Then you realized the body in between your legs was gone. Robin was no longer on the bed and you couldn’t hear where in the room she was, so you propped yourself up on your elbows to look for her.
When you looked up, you saw her with the bottle of lube in her hands. She opened it than lathered it all over the strap-on. Robin took her hand and started stroking it, making sure it was everywhere. She wiped her hand on a towel she had nearby, then looked over at you and saw you were looking back. Robin walked over to you, then grabbed your ankles and pulled you closer to her, until your hips were at the edge of the bed. You looked at her, eyes full of worry and said, “M- Mommy, please no. Pl-Please. It’s too- It’s too b- b- big.” Robin said, “No, don’t beg now, you know what you did, princess. Now take mommy’s cock.” You whimpered and said, “Y- Yes m- mommy.” Robin replied, “Good girl”, then grabbed the base of the strap-on and swiped the tip through your folds a couple times. You felt the tip lightly press up against your entrance and Robin said, “Be a good girl and take mommy’s cock, princess.” You couldn’t respond before you felt the tip slowly slide into your entrance. Your eyes squeezed shut and you whimpered. Robin took her free hand and ran it up and down the top of your thigh. It was gentle and grounding, exactly what you needed as she kept pushing the strap-on further inside you. Once Robin got the tip in, she praised you, saying, “You’re doing so well for mommy, sweetheart. Being such a good girl, (Y/N). You’re doing such a good job taking mommy’s cock, princess.” You choked out a, “Th- Thank y- you, m- m- mommy. Th- Thank you.” Robin continued to slowly push the strap-on deeper inside of you and you whimpered, feeling it stretch out your pussy. Your hands were white knuckling the sheets beneath you and Robin stopped her movements, giving you time to adjust to the feeling. There was still a couple inches left until it was fully inside you, but she wanted to continue praising you. She said, “You’re being such a good girl for mommy, princess. Taking mommy’s cock so well, like such a good girl, (Y/N). It’s almost fully inside you, sweetheart. You’re doing such a good job for mommy.” Somehow, between the pain and the bliss, you were able to choke out, “Th- Thank you, m- mommy.” Robin slowly pushed the rest of the strap-on into you, then said “Your pussy looks so pretty all stretched out for me, (Y/N). Such a pretty little pussy, sweetheart.” She stayed there, towered over your body for a minute or two, allowing your pussy to get used to the feeling of her cock inside you. Her hands were on the tops of your thighs, gently running them up and down, grounding you. Once you started to relax, Robin slowly pulled back a couple inches, eliciting a loud moan. Then, she pushed back in and another loud moan left your lips. She asked, “Does that feel good, princess?” and barely able to speak, you mumbled, “G- Good, m- mommy.” She praised you for using your words, then started slowly thrusting her hips. Robin gradually picked up her pace, once she knew you could handle it. The tip of the strap-on continuously hit your special spot, the spot that makes you scream in pleasure. Your moans were loud and you were so close to the orgasm you’ve been craving for hours. Robin could tell because your legs were shaking and she asked, “Sweetheart, are you close?” You nodded and loudly mumbled, “Y- Yes, mo- mommy! Cl- Close! So cl- close!” She said, “Beg me to let you cum, (Y/N). Beg me to let you cum on my cock, princess. Show me that you deserve it.” Robin started thrusting her hips faster and you screamed in pleasure, then loudly choked out “Pl- Please! Pl- Please mo- mommy c- can I c- cum! Pl- Please m- mommy! Please l- let me c- c- cum on your- on your cock! Pl- Please mommy!” The words you’ve been waiting to hear, finally fell from her mouth when she said, “Cum for me, princess. Cum for mommy, (Y/N).” You came seconds after she gave you permission, screaming in pleasure as she continued thrusting her hips faster. You screamed out “Fuck mommy! Oh my god! Th- Thank you, m- mommy! Thank- Thank you!” Robin wasn’t done with your pussy quite yet. She continued thrusting into you at a fast pace, not slowing down at all.
You were screaming in pleasure and it didn’t take long for you to feel your second orgasm forming. Your legs were now spasming and you were barely able to choke out a “Cl- Close.” Robin replied, “You don’t have to ask permission to cum now, princess.” You nodded in response, not able to think of words to reply back with. Your second climax hit you hard and you screamed out “F- Fuck mommy! F- Fuck! M- Mommy! Holy sh- shit! Oh my god! M-“ Your orgasm cut off your screaming moans as you came again on Robin’s strap-on. She slowed her thrusts down, letting you ride out your orgasm, but she wasn’t done. Robin began slowly pulling out, then pounding her cock back into you, targeting your special spot. You started to whine, getting overstimulated and Robin said, “You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Be a good girl for mommy, (Y/N) and take your punishment, princess.” Your eyes started to fill with tears, then you felt your third orgasm creep up on you. It hit you out of surprise and your mouth dropped open. The only thing leaving it were loud broken moans and strangled noises. Right as you fell from the edge of your climax, you screamed out “Mommy!” as you came on Robin’s cock for the third time. Still, Robin wasn’t done with your pretty pussy. She kept the strap-on fully inside of you, then looked down at your clit. In a sickeningly sweet tone, Robin said, “Aw princess, your clit is throbbing. Does mommy need to give it some attention, sweetheart?” Before you could even try to respond, she took one of her hands and started rubbing your clit, making you squirm. Her other hand pinched one of your nipples, overstimulating you more. Your eyes started to fill with tears, too overstimulated, too sensitive. You picked up one of your hands and hovered it over Robin’s hand that was rubbing your clit. She practically barked at you, saying “Don’t you fucking dare, (Y/N).” You whimpered, tears began rolling down your cheeks and then she switched her tone. She said, “Good girls take their punishments. You want to be a good girl for mommy, don’t you, princess? You want to be mommy’s good girl?” Your hand made its way back down by your side, white knuckling the sheets again. Robin praised you and said, “That’s my good girl. You’re mommy’s good girl, princess. Taking your punishment so well. Doing everything that I asked, such a good girl for me, (Y/N).” The praise sent you over the edge and you came again, the only thing that left your lips were loud, broken, strangled noises. Robin stopped her movements, then leaned down and moved the hair that was stuck to your face. Then, she gave you a kiss on your forehead and said, “You did so well, princess. It’s all over, sweetheart. Mommy’s all done now. No more punishment. Tell me when you want me to take the strap-on out, okay?” All you could do in response was weakly nod. Robin continued whispering sweet things to you and wiped the tears that were rolling down your cheeks. You were completely fucked out, your brain felt like mush, your body ached, and you could barely keep your eyes open.
After a couple minutes, you weakly tapped Robin’s arm and she asked, “You want me to take it out, sweetheart?” You weakly nodded your head and she said, “Okay, princess. I’ll be really slow, okay?” Again, you weakly nodded, then she started to slowly pull out of you. You started to sob after the strap-on was fully out of you, feeling completely empty. Robin immediately took the strap-on off her waist, then went to hold you. She whispered sweet things to you, helping you calm down and relax. It took you a little while to fully relax. Once you stopped crying, Robin softly asked, “(Y/N), is it okay if mommy cleans you up before using the towel? I’ll be super gentle and stop whenever you need me to.” You nodded weakly, then Robin gave you a kiss on your forehead, before she kneeled in between your legs. She moaned as she tasted you and gently cleaned you up the best she could without overstimulating you. Robin got back up and said, “Okay sweetheart. Mommy’s going to clean you up with the towel now and afterwards, we’re going to need to put some clothes on. Then, we can cuddle and take a nap, I promise.” You weakly nodded, then Robin began cleaning you up carefully with the towel. Robin was so gentle with you and the way she was treating you, it made your heart melt. She was making you feel so loved, so wanted. After she finished cleaning you up, she went to a drawer in her dresser and pulled out some clothes of yours. Robin looked at your face, then smiled and said, “You didn’t know I had a drawer filled with clothes for you, princess?” You weakly shook your head, no, and she replied, “Of course I do, sweetheart. It’s perfect for when we have instances like this”, then she giggled. You were too tired, but you wanted to roll your eyes. Robin helped you put on each article of clothing, then helped you move your head back up to the pillows. She quickly put some clothes on, then laid flat next to you. You immediately nuzzled your head into her chest and wrapped yourself around her. You mumbled, “I love you. Thank you.” Robin kissed the top of your head and said, “I love you too, princess. No need to thank me, get some rest, sweetheart.” She kissed your head again, before her fingers began to run through your hair as you fell asleep.
I hope you liked this!!🥺💖
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7grandmel · 6 days
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Todays rip: 22/03/2024
Viva La LOWAS
Season 7 Featured on: The Year of Grand Dad Sound Selection [Side B]
Ripped by Cosmic199X
youtube
Requested by literallyn01imp0rtant! (Request Form)
I'd like to very much thank literallyn01imp0rtant for suggesting a bevvy of Homestuck rips for me to cover, but also apologize in advance - despite being a Tumblr user and overall internet dweller, I'm actually still very unfamiliar with the series. Not that I'm disinterested, far from it - if anything, the recent influx in new rips from the series has only made me more interested in getting into the series now in 2024. But even watching from a distance, it's been fascinating to see Homestuck's presence on SiIvaGunner from the early years to now - with Viva La LOWAS leading the charge for a new age of rips of the series.
See, while the channel was starting out in the early Seasons, there was a real sort of commitment to only ripping video games on the channel. That is still something that is *mostly* adhered to nowadays - for instance, rips like A Day In The Snow or Remember when this song was the one related to toilets? will still use the Rock Band and Guitar Hero games as sources despite the songs featured obviously not originating there. But the same also applied to Homestuck, as most of the franchise's music used for rips were assigned to the official, episodic, now-effectively-cancelled Homestuck adventure game, HiveSwap. Like it was for me, it was likely a bit confusing for those out of the loop - unless you gave the key art's main characters a second look, the name and artwork don't really jump out as you as "Homestuck" right away. But now with HiveSwap effectively dead in the water, and SiIvaGunner's adherence to only ripping "real" games being far looser, a change occurred on October 24th 2023 - "retconning" all Homestuck rips to have been part of a series-specific playlist. There was even a cool little announcement made that provided a lore-accurate reason to the change having been done, referencing both Homestuck itself and the early parts of SiIva Season 2 - that's the kind of channel-and-lore harmony that I raved so much about in Haltmanna feat. Rob Thomas of Matchbox 20.
There's a lot to love about the original Doctor theme from Homestuck, with a magical sound eerie reminiscent of Cave Story (which was confirmed as being a major influence to it by the track's late composer). With Viva La LOWAS being made six years and a month after the fact, I can't exactly say it was made in tribute to her passing - yet arranging Viva La Vida of all tracks in this melancholy chiptune sound still just feels so befitting. The combination fits like a glove throughout the whole arrangement and gives the rip an equal amount of hope and hopelessness, a sense of bittersweet acceptance, and many more emotions that the original Viva La Vida already instilled into people way back when. As a huge fan of both the song itself and of Cave Story's music (see Balcony Fusion Collab), Viva La LOWAS hits hard for me even without the context Homestuck itself provides for it. The fact that this rip led the way for all future Homestuck rips to follow, free from HiveSwap's shackles and finally able to champion Homestuck itself, only amplifies those feelings. And so this elegantly simple arrangement is able to mean so much at once despite it all.
Here's to more Homestuck, and here's to me one day finally reading it.
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DAN AND PHIL REACT TO PHAN TWITTER REACTIONS w/ timestamps
.03 sir please don’t crack your hands in my ears.
.11 way to early in the video for a phude Jumpscare
.16 DIP AND PIP ?!!!??
.26 tbh shoutout to Phil for acknowledging that even tho we have fan accounts, not everything we say, create, post is something we would want them to see. Love the self awareness. Appreciate the space he provides
.35 rip Dan memes and tumblr tags
.56 I actually needed to be told I am gorgeous and intelligent, I knows it’s fake but it’s nice to hear even if fake
1.37 WHY IS HE **** ********* THE MIC N O NO NO NO NO WHAT??????
2.08 chill Phil we weren’t gonna fight about it. You’re Edward… OKAY
2.25 how many times are they going to watch pinof 1 ! Babes you can do that anytime you want not just on camera
2.37 Phil is in FULL CRISIS realizing how messy he is as if they haven’t already talked about this before
3.09 TUMBLR NEVER LEFT. YOU LEFT.
3.29 the synced lean in as they discovered the dan has something in his teeth bit was a video
3.40 SO SO SO GLAD THE SOCK VIDEO MADE IT. AND HES ACKNOWLEDGING
3.46 SHOES SOCK VIDEO JUMPS ARE😭😭😭
4.24 “keep reading” oh goodness that. Sir. Okay.
4.44 hi just realized is Dan wearing a muscle tank under the see through shirt????? Side note. Want the see through shirt
5.03 FANTASTIC FOURSOME JUMPDVARE
6.14 NO DAN NOT KATE THEY ARE LISTENINF. DONT BECOME INVOLVED IN ANOTHER ROYAL CONSPIRACY
7.41 absolutely fire meme. I laughed so loud I actually had to pause the video. Worst part? I had already reposted on twt yet still reacted to it
8.05 he is staring into my soul. Hell how is he staring THROUGH my soul
9.17 no words. “It’s not a bad look” alakakakak???
9.22 So suddenly it’s not “we” anymore, huh?
9.53 rip Phil’s slit😫
10.08 I just through Dan making a joke then immediately hitting Phil to let him know he was joking was really funny. Stuff I do with my friends I am tactile
11.46 I ALWAYS thought that image was edited to have all of them. I didn’t realize it was a real photos
12.38 OH MY FOS????? JUMPSVARE WHAT THE HELL
12:45 those pounds weee so aggressive. It sounded like they really hurt. I’m hurt listening
12:46 Phil is watching that monitor like a HAWK he is NOT losing monetization bc Dan wants to wap
13.00 Phil saw and saved this and nobody knew. He lurks. Nobody is safe.
13:36 about nine “what can I say”s in. Dan has a genuine look of terror and confusion. He looks like he’s playing up his reaction a bit in the beginning, laughing and stuff and acting annoyed but this point is genuine horror and realization. This is so gold. Will be giffing later. Also precious Phil
14.50 okay the editing kinda memes his monologue a bit but i was high key inspired. He’s so wrote. Everything is a story that must be concluded. I love that thought process. Clearly bc I am also a grade a yapper but still
15:50 oh the immediate IMMEDIATE regret in Phil’s face
16:35 we love a self aware king. The poster was a tad rough
16:56 THUS CIDEO AND COMMENTARY JS SO SO SO GOOD
17:38 YES THANK YOU THE WADVERT WAS RVEFHONE. We couldn’t eat sleep or think without seeing it
18:11 please wash your blanket? Guys? Like? You can clean, wash, or dry clean anything. Please?
19:00 tbh saw under the robbing blanks and it wasn’t even that bad? Compared to every horrific demon phannie thing that has been seen? Not bad! Could have been worse
19:45 2021 period???? Hello??? You were gone since 2018? At least from dapg??
20:44 yet???? Capitolestor strikes again
20:50 did they not have a keep calm and something on poster in their apt at one point??? Some people?? You mean you???
21:16 I SAW THIS WHEN IT DROPPED. love dami sm. This video was so good
22:24 JUMPSCARE
22:55 “1992” “Daniel” calm down
23:25 “you also let me” guys??? How is this forced situation? Who decided??
24:20 he needs to back away from the mic I can feel him breathing in my ears my goood ess??
24:34 I’m screaming bc they used a clip from the section before we all thought they got high. This section they posted was just a cute section
24:54 literally speechless. Also jumpscare?
26:30 the entire dan induced conclusion is beautiful I love them and their banter
26:54 nvm can you lean into the mic closer and tell us you’re proud again??? Needed that???
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diorleclerc · 1 year
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𝐟𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬 + 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜
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when charles passed by a shop that had a bunch of fuzzy christmas socks on display, he knew he had to stop by and get you some.
charles was tired of being woken up in the middle of the night by your cold feet touching his skin.
so for christmas, he decided that one of his gifts to you was going to be something you desperately needed: socks.
he had a shopping basket in his arms as he looked at the display of socks, picking ones with designs he thought you’d like. it didn’t take him long to fill up the basket with enough socks to last you a month.
he was going to wait until christmas to give them to you but he couldn’t handle another night of waking up to your freezing feet.
when he got home, he found a gift bag big enough and threw all the socks in and waited until you got home. after dinner, he brought you to the living room, telling you he had a surprise for you.
you waited on the couch and watched as he grabbed a bag from under the tree. “woah, we’re doing christmas gifts? now?” you ask. “just one early gift for you, amour,” he says, handing you the bag.
“but christmas is literally ten days away, i can wait.” you say. “come on, just opening it, baby. i know you’ll love it,” charles says and you finally open the bag.
“aw you got me fuzzy socks,” you smile when you reached into the bag and pulled out a pair. but as you reached in again, all you felt were socks.
you dumped the bag onto the ground and at least twenty pairs of socks fell out.
“i- did you rob a sock store or something?” you ask.
“no, but they did give me a really good discount for buying so many,” charles says.
“not that i don’t love them, but do i really need that many socks? there’s gotta be at least 20 pairs in here,” you ask. “i just thought it’d be a cute present and you’d like having some fun, christmas socks for the holidays,” he shrugs and you give him a look, knowing there was definitely more to it.
“okay, what’s the real reason?” you ask and he sighs. “i’m sorry princess, but i cannot wake up to your cold feet on my legs again,” charles shakes his head.
“what?” you ask. “every night, i’m woken up by your freezing feet touching me,” he exclaims.
“you’re so dramatic. it can’t be that bad,” you laugh. “not that bad? baby, it feels like someone’s putting ice cubes on me! maybe i should wake you up with ice cubes on your leg so you know how it feels,” charles says, making you laugh even harder.
“so dramatic,” you say, kissing him. “but fine, i’ll wear the socks. only because they’re cute,” you add before putting your feet on his legs, giggling when he jumped away from you.
“i hate you,” he says. “no you don’t,” you say and he sighs, pulling you in for a kiss before agreeing with you. “no i don’t. but i definitely don’t love your fucking freezing cold feet,” he says and you just giggle before kissing him again.
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I hate the "Finish the story" gimmick/angle. The idea that the worst thing Vince McMahon ever did in wrestling (who is currently being exposed as this evil man guilty of sex crimes and blackmail and covering a legit murder) was not push Dusty Rhodes longer as WWF champion (when he still made him champion) and that it will all be forgiven and WWE will be this clean magical place if Dusty's son gets to be champ too. Fuck off. Dusty wasn't robbed. When he came back in the late 80s, he was nowhere near the level of Hulk, Savage or Warrior. He was perfect as a midcarder like Cody was and will be again eventually.
Cody does his best to be like the NWA version of his dad with nice suits and talkative promos and very sweaty, self-punishing matches. Cool. But he's not the character or worker or interesting person that Dusty or even Goldust were. Cody milks his family to get ahead. WWE's cracker ass fanbase think The Rock is somehow worse when Rock exceeded his father in every way. And Rock proved himself EARLY in his 20s, being the youngest champ at that point. And he didn't leave to start a company that was better without him. Rock went to Hollywood and conquered it, making pro wrestling mainstream and respected.
What is Cody's appeal? Besides being the white trash version of The Rock like 90% of WWE stars since The Rock: LA Knight, The Miz, John Cena, Batista, early Randy Orton before he became a Stone Cold ripoff. Cody is definitely the weakest of these guys.
You know why The Bloodline and Sami Zayn angle was great? It wasn't a shit rehash of the Attitude Era. Cody Rhodes, Kofimania, Daniel Bryan, CM Punk and every stupid "People's Champ" angle has been a lazy rehash of Mick Foley's road to beat The Rock and become "the most unlikely champion ever". Shit, that's what the Sami angle ALMOST was and should've been until Cody ruined it.
WWE fans want the same shit over and over forever. They make the show boring and unwatchable to people who watched 25 years ago at wrestling's peak.
That is why I don't give a shit about Cody Rhodes. Why I would rather watch The Rock vs Roman Reigns. Because Rock vs Roman is a story thats never been told. With 30 years in the making. Cody? No one cared about him 3 years ago.
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