#thank you for the tag my wonderful friend!

[smutoperator]

Snake Charmer

Kim Minjeong (Winter) x Male Reader

Tags: arabian nights, belly bulging, belly dancer, blowjob, creampie, cum on midriff, fast-paced sex, footjob, loud sex, quickie, snake (literally and figuratevelly), stripping

Word count: 3164

It was a cold, lonely night in the desert. Nobody seemed to be in your sight, just an endless horizon full of sand. You were so desperate that you started seeing what looked like a tent playing an electronic beat as if a rave was playing inside it. Surely it must have been a mirage, you thought.

As you entered the tent, you saw a girl performing in an outfit that left her belly very exposed.

The girl dancer performed the electronic song in a way that made her look like those belly dancers coming straight from those Arabian nights tales. Soon, she grabbed a black mamba snake from a basket and started playing with it, showing no fear and handling it like it was just a walk in the park.

The dancer kept playing with the snake as she continued her performance, her cuteness contrasting with the bulky reptile that ran through her body. Her midriff moved in such a sexy manner, meanwhile, her face was all smiles, a truly impressive duality that had you slowly falling in love with her.

The music stopped and the dancer finished her performance, immediately turning in your direction as she pushed the snake back into the basket. "Looks like I have an audience for today," she said. "That's quite rare here in the middle of the desert," she continued.

"Do you perform this dance every day?" you asked the dancer. "Yes, me and my friends do that every day hoping to charm someone to build a harem with us," she said. "Your friend? So you're not alone in this tent?" you ask her. "No, they had to go to the city, but they'll be back tomorrow morning," she answered.

"By the way, I haven't even asked your name yet," you said to her. "My name is Minjeong, but you can also call me Winter," she answered. "Winter, such a beautiful name," you said to her. "Thank you," she replied.

"Wanna watch me dance a little more?" Winter asked you. "Sure, do your thing," you told her. Winter resumed dancing, bringing the mamba back from the basket and running it all over her body once again. She teased you, making very seductive moves with her tummy that drove you insane, making you wonder how she hadn't found anyone yet to occupy that harem.

Winter shook her cute little ass a bit and then started taking off parts of her bedlah as the performance went on, starting with her top, leaving you shocked as she left her torso fully exposed to you while dancing, from her perky little tits all the way down to her sexy navel. She wrapped the snake around her midriff and then picked up a recipient with the shape of a magical lamp, pouring some oil over her fit body, leaving you in utter disbelief at the scene you were watching.

Winter continued to strip her bedlah off, next taking off her long skirt, leaving just her hip scarf. Soon enough, that was gone as well, leaving Winter wearing just a belly chain and a thong that could barely cover her genitalia, giving you a hand signal to come close to her.

Minjeong walked in your direction, getting her body on top of the couch you were sitting on, the black mamba now wrapped around her shoulders. "Looks like that's not the only snake I can charm," she said, running her hands over your already throbbing cock under your pants.

"Get up," Winter commanded as you two started sharing kisses. You still couldn't believe what was in front of your eyes, maybe it was just another mirage, but her touch felt amazing. She quickly took off your shirt, running her hands over your torso while you worshipped her beautiful midriff. You were much taller than her, meaning her sexy tummy rubbed all over your clothed crotch, building your erection even further and getting you increasingly hard as you two touched each other.

"Let me show you my snake-charming abilities," Winter said, getting on her knees and pulling your pants down, unveiling your already throbbing anaconda. She teased it very slowly, giving a couple of licks to the tip of your cock, which were already driving you insane.

It didn't take long for Minjeong to make faster moves, performing an impressive no-hands blowjob as she slowly put more and more of your length in her mouth, reaching closer to a third of it as she sensually moved her body while sucking your cock, making her belly chain produce a rattling sound that turned you on even further.

Winter deepthroated your cock for the first time. "Such a delicious snake," she said once she finished it, switching from her slow-paced blowjob into a fast-paced one coupled with jerking off of your cock while staring at you with her puppy eyes.

Minjeong spat all over your cock as she continued to suck it off, now moving into the side of your shaft, before licking your tip like she was eating ice cream, then diving down to your balls while stroking that anaconda, switching to a little hand massage on your shaft before moving back to a no-hands cocksucking that she finished with an impeccable deepthroat.

"Oh shit," you groaned as Minjeong's deepthroat sent shivers down your spine. She rubbed her hands on your torso as she kept bobbing her head on your cock, giving special attention to the tip and deepthroating your shaft from time to time, making it wetter and wetter with lots of spitting.

Winter got back up and started kissing you again, the tip of your cock rubbing against her navel as your bodies collided with each other. You reached your hands into her pink pussy for the first time, making her let out some soft moans. "I'll let you do anything with me today, I'm all yours, I want you to join this harem," she said.

"Sit down, you're in for a treat tonight," Winter told you as you lay back on the couch. She quickly dove into your balls, ready to start another round of her soft yet amazing blowjob with her beautiful cute mouth, licking your shaft from top to bottom and then making rounds around the tip.

Winter jerks off your cock. "So big, so nice, can't wait to get this ready for my pussy," she says, licking your tip a little more then bobbing her head up and down it, going slowly deeper into it as she keeps spitting on your cock. "Your dick is so nice and big, I've been waiting to have one of these in my mouth for so long," she says as she moves her tongue around your shaft, before teasing it as she rubs your cock around her navel, getting you to throb even more.

"Oh my God," you groan as Winter circles your cock around. "Do you want to get it in my pussy?" she asks. "Oh fuck, definitely," you answer her as she continues to suck it off.

"Let's get it a little bit harder, shall we?" Winter says as she starts stroking your shaft with her beautiful feet. "Fuck, that's such a good massage," you tell her as she quickly moves her toes around your cock, making your tip pop in and out of your foreskin. "Fuck, that feels so good, just keep going, keep stroking that cock," you tell her, Winter smiling as your cock is throbbing red now.

You thrust into Minjeong's feet, making her very excited. "I want you to do this in my pussy," she says, circling her toes around your cock as you move your hips. She then puts her feet on top of your shaft, massaging them hard and pushing you to the edge, her long nails hitting the most sensitive parts of your tip.

"Oh yeah, it seems like this snake is finally big enough for me to sit on it," Winter proclaims as she lets you take your cock into her pussy, sitting on it in on go and bouncing hard on it. "OH YEAH, OH YEAH, OH SHIT," she moans as you impale her pussy hard. "SO GOOD, SO GOOD, YES, YES, AHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHH, OH MY GOD," she screams, pressing her hands on your chest and quickly losing her breath as your big pole shapes the insides of her cunt.

But Winter stays committed, pushing hard even if your cock seems to feel a little too big for her. "AHHH FUCK, I CAN FEEL IT BULGING UNDER MY STOMACH, IT FEELS SO GOOD," Winter says, you two just closing your eyes and enjoying the ride. "YES I LIKE THAT SO MUCH, IT FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD," she continues to moan.

"Oh shit," you groan again as Winter's tight walls squeeze your cock. "You like that tight pussy?" she asks you as she keeps riding your cock, losing her breath as she can feel it right in her tummy. "OH SHIT, YES, LIKE THAT, LIKE THAT," she keeps begging and moaning, fingering her tight pussy and repeatedly opening and closing her legs as she moves all over your cock.

You can't resist and soon start thrusting into Minjeong's tight pink pussy. "OH I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING," she announces as you pump her pussy up. "OH YES BABY, FUCK THAT PUSSY," Winter commands, meeting your thrusts with bounces of her own. "FUCK YOU FEEL SO YUMMY IN MY TUMMY," she moans, feeling your monster bulge once again.

Winter pops your cock out of her pussy and gets herself in a missionary position. "I want you to see you bulging under my stomach, show me how deep your big cock can go inside me," she begs as you grab her left leg up and quickly put your cock back in her pussy. "AHHHHH," she instantly moans, caught by surprise as you attack her cunt at full speed from the start.

"OHHHHH FUCKKKK," Winter moans and grins her teeth as her body bounces hard with your fast thrusts. "You said you wanted it like that, don't complain now," you tell her as you thrust so hard your cock briefly pulls out of her pussy. "Yes, baby, keep going, wreck this tight little pussy," she begs, losing her breath as she speaks.

"AHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH, YES, YES, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, HARDER, HARDER," Winter begs as you use her body to your pleasure nonstop, your balls clapping hard against her clit as you deliver her some powerful thrusts. "FUCK BABY, OH MY GOD, FUCK ME HARD, AHHHHHH," she screams, sticking her tongue out like a begging puppy as you keep destroying her little pink pussy.

"OH MY GOD, MAKE ME TAKE IT, YES, YES, YES, POUND ME HARD," Winter pegs, you spreading her legs to the fullest and hitting her pussy at every different angle. "Oh fuck," you groan again before resuming destroying her cunt. "AHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH," she screams, you teasing her rubbing your shaft in her clit briefly before putting it back inside her.

"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," Winter screams so loud you're glad you two are in the middle of the desert with no one to hear it, you pushing her legs in the direction of her body and completely dominating me. "THE WAY YOU USE ME IS SO FUCKING GOOD, FUCK" she screams.

"AH YES, FUCKING MAKE ME TAKE IT," Winter screams as you use her pussy so hard you need a little break not to exhaust yourself, diving as you lick her pink hole and tongue her clit hard. "UHHHH YEAH, FUCK, YOU EAT MY PUSSY SO GOOD," she moans as your face gets buried into her entrance, making her legs shake, Minjeong massaging your back while she gets eaten out.

"Spread that asshole for me," you tell Winter, diving next into tonguing her pink anus, giving a couple of licks up into her pussy. "I want you to put your finger in my ass," she begs. You do as she asks, shoving your middle finger up Minjeong's butthole and massaging it.

"Damn it's tighter than your pussy," you tell her. "Yes, I've never been fucked in the ass, but I love the sensation of getting fingered in it, especially with you eating my pussy AHHHHH FUCK," Winter moans as she spreads her legs and lets you please both her holes with your finger and your mouth. "Oh FUCK, IT FEELS LIKE I'M IN HEAVEN," she says as you give her the double stimulation she needs, Winter's flexible body contracting and trembling all over the couch.

Winter gets back on her knees, ready to suck your cock once more. But you have different plans, grabbing her hair and pounding her face as soon as she gets on her knees. "Oh fuck yes," you say, turning Winter's mouth into your free-use fuckhole as you watch her face turn red while your cock bulges under her cute cheeks.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," you groan as you make Winter gag on your cock, not holding back as her face gets plowed. You keep teasing her, slapping your cock in her tummy before going back to make her choke on it. Winter gets back up, hungry for more. "I need it back in my pussy," she begs, lifting one of her legs as she positions herself close to your lap.

Before getting your cock back in Winter's wonderful pussy, you tease it with a little slap in her entrance. Her pussy is so tight you struggle a bit to put it back in, but as soon as you do, you grab her right leg and start thrusting immediately. "OH FUCK," Winter moans as soon as she feels your cock back to shaping her inner walls.

Winter sexily looks in your eye as she wraps one of her hands around your neck, using the other hand to grab a curtain in the room as she tries to cope with your fast thrusts. You reciprocate and grab her neck. "FUCK YES, FUCK THAT LITTLE PUSSY, OH MY GOD I'M GONNA CUM, JUST FUCK ME, JUST FUCK ME PLEASE, I'M GONNA CUM, FUCKKKKK, AHHHHH," she moans loudly as you also finger her pussy.

"OH MY GOD, YES, YES, DON'T STOP," Winter begs as she starts to lose her balance. "AHHHH YES, FUCK, FUCK, OH MY GOD," Winter screams, trying to hold onto your body and the curtain at all costs as she turns into a screaming machine, your cock bulging under her belly more than ever. "OH, OH, OH, OH," she can't stop moaning, her walls taking the shape of your cock at each hard thrust you deliver into her pussy.

"YES, YES, YES, FUCK THAT PUSSY," Winter begs as you massage her clit hard and pushes her legs further upward, fucking her like a man on a mission. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, the more I hit that pussy the tighter it gets," you tell her. "AHHHHH FUCKKKK," she continues to scream.

Winter drops back to the couch as she's so overwhelmed with your poundings she can barely stay on her feet. She positions herself sideways, allowing you to penetrate her pussy in a spooning position. "OH GOD, AHHHHHHH," Winter screams as you quickly go back to clap her cheeks. "OH MY GOD IT'S SO FUCKING BIG," she keeps screaming, you getting crazier and crazier, attacking her pussy like there is no tomorrow and making her lose her breath. "Shit," you groan, still amazed by her pussy's tightness, more so as Winter's cunt starts queefing with your hard thrusts. "That's it, I'm gonna pound that pink pussy until I fucking cum inside it," you tell her.

"Bend over," you command to Winter as she gets on all fours on the couch. "Perfect," you tell her, grabbing her waist as you guide your cock back into her pussy. "Holy shit," you say as her tight hole wraps around your shaft one more time. "FUCK, THAT'S SO BIG," she screams again.

"Bounce on that cock" you tell Winter, letting her move her hips by herself. "Work those hips," you keep telling her as you start giving some slaps to her butt. "Oh yeah slap my ass," she tells you, closing her eyes and moaning as you time your spanking with the movement of her hips, Winter showing you her sexy abilities to move them just like when she was dancing for you moments ago.

"AHHHH FUCK, OH MY GOD YES," Minjeong screams as you grab her hair and spank her ass, she moves her hips the more you spank her, leading you to attempt to tame her with more fast thrusts as Winter keeps getting pounded into oblivion. "OH MY GOD, YOU'RE DESTROYING MY TIGHT LITTLE PUSSY," she screams.

"There you go, that's it, oh fuck," you groan as Winter keeps moving her hips. "OH GODDD," she screams as she works on your cock. "Yes, that's it, fuck, fuck, show me how much you like that big cock, cute little girl," you tell her as Winter switches into longer, deeper moves. "You like that?" she asks you. "Yes, baby, I love it," you answer her.

"Your big cock feels so good stretching my pussy," Winter tells you as she pushes you closer and closer to cumming. "Nice and slow, keep moving like that, I'm gonna cum, oh shit," you tell her. "Then I want you to cum in my yummy tummy," Winter tells you.

"Fuck, I'm cumming," you tell Winter just in time for her to flip herself around, offering you her beautiful belly to get covered in your white seed. "OHHHH SHITTTT," you loudly scream as endless ropes of cum cover Minjeong's midriff, you enjoying the work of art you left as you painted her tummy.

"I'm not done yet," you tell Winter. Your still hard cock finds its way to her pussy one more time. "I'm gonna cover this tight little pussy with cum too," you tell her. "Yes, please, baby, fill me up, AH, AH, AH, AH," Winter begs as you attack her pussy like crazy. "Fuck, Fuck," you groan. "YES, YES, YOU FEEL SO GOOD IN MY TUMMY," she says as your bulging prick pokes under her cum-covered belly.

"Fuck that was quick, I'm gonna cum again," you tell Winter, unleashing a second load in her tight pink pussy. "Holy shit, this was intense," Winter tells you as your cum oozes out of her cunt. "You can sleep here tonight, but make sure my unnies don't see you," she tells you. "Alright," you oblige, Winter indicating a place in the tent where you can hide.

The night passes by and a new day arrives. As you open your eyes, you see Minjeong once again with the snake wrapped around her body, but she's no longer alone. Three more girls surround you. One of them is already jerking your cock off, a tall woman with her big boobs already out in the open, who is also the first to speak.

"Welcome to your harem," she says.

[oikarma]

muse

pairing: lando norris x poet!reader

summary: you're notoriously picky about your muses. no wonder lando's all flattered when he manages to figure out that you've written a few poems about him.

a/n: please enjoy! as per usual any songs/poems i reference are not my work. thank you so much for the request, i didn't follow it entirely but i loved the idea of an artistic!reader

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liked by mothercain and others

yourinstagram found a new muse

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user1 new collection WHEN

user2 that cat is so cute is it yours? ♥︎ liked by yourinstagram

yourinstagram yes! her name is stevie

user3 she's picking up the pen again!

mothercain well? show it to me

yourinstagram i'm in the editing process 🤕 art takes time mothercain or you're getting shy

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liked by alexandrasaintmleux and others

yourinstagram oh...technology

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user1 y/n and f1 crossover??

user2 collab we didn't know we needed

user3 we see you alex

alexandrasaintmleux send me the pictures you took please 🩷 think i found my new favorite photographer

yourinstagram too kind. usually i'm more of a pen and paper girl alexandrasaintmleux well the artistry certainly carries over user4 i KNEW they'd like each other

user5 waist who

user6 love you SM

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liked by f1 and others

yourinstagram teaser

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user1 OH MY GOD WHERE CAN I ORDER

user2 ur such an inspiration y/n

mothercain proud of you

yourinstagram thanks ml <3

user3 wtf is f1 admin doing here

f1 we love y/n's poetry, doesn't everyone? user4 is she doing a f1 special or sth

user5 the signature is sooo cute

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liked by mclaren and others

lando i'm literate, i promise.

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user1 his jawline...

user2 on holiday?? don't you have a car to be driving

oscarpiastri as long as you believe it!

lando you're a horrible friend

user3 WAIT GUYS THAT'S Y/N'S BOOK

user4 who's y/n user3 @/user4 @/yourinstagram she's a poet and she recently came out with a new poetry collection user5 woah. hear me out: it's about lando?? user6 bfr no educated girl would go for that man

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liked by lando and others

mclaren Celebrated poet Y/N L/N in our garage today 🧡 Wanna write something about our cars, too?

tagged: yourinstagram

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user1 i would cry if i wrote a poem about a driver and he read it and his team read it and then they invited me and asked me to write about their cars

user2 mclaren really trying to cement their legacy

user3 oh she's STUNNING

yourinstagram was it fun tormenting me

mclaren do you not like our company ☹️ user4 @/mclaren she's only there for lando

user5 so we're basically accepting that her new collection is about a freaking racecar driver

user6 lando's fine but is he THAT fine user7 love does weird things to people user8 i mean he liked the post

lando guess i'm just more interesting

user9 y/n hasn't responded guess she's busy dying of mortification user10 oh he's going to be insufferable user11 the dad lore will go crazy "that poem you're reading in english class? yeah! it's about me!"

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liked by others

f1gossipofficial Is that Y/N L/N with Lando Norris? We think it might be.

tagged: yourinstagram, lando

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user1 oh my god it's real

user2 are they car-shopping together??

user3 i'm so confused who is she

user4 YN NATION RISE SHE HAS A MAN. I REPEAT. SHE HAS A MAN!

user5 lowk can't believe the guy who bagged our girl y/n is an athlete user6 i thought she'd go for like a random college prof. or a nerd. idk. user7 remember when we thought she was dating daniel radcliffe 😭 and then it turned out she was coaching him for the kill your darlings promo LMAO let's not rush into this user8 @/user7 that was so embarrassing...we all got tricked but this time y/n's been writing about him user9 @/user8 are we SURE though

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liked by mothercain and others

lando thought it was time to return the favor x

tagged: yourinstagram

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user1 don't be shy, lando. show us the picture

user2 they're so book couple coded?

user3 if i write enough fanfiction will my celeb crush notice me too

yourinstagram not bad, norris.

lando so now you're all nonchalant? didn't seem like it last night user4 HELLO? freaks. FREAKS, i tell you. user5 well y/n it might be time to write your man a pr manual

user6 well she's definitely an artist for the ages. he'll be immortalized in her work. and her? her legacy speaks for itself but i suppose she might treasure that photo just as much

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a/n: have a great march!

[dreamsteddie]

Can't Take My Eyes Off You

Written for the @stmarchmm day one prompt “courting rituals” | Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Courting Rituals, Alpha Eddie Munson, Omega Steve Harrington - Also on Ao3

Bat divider -@popmilky | Diamond divider - @inklore

Eddie knows he doesn’t have much going for him in terms of mating material.

Despite presenting as an Alpha early at age twelve, something that should have given him some kind of status in a town like Hawkins, there’s always been something about him that makes people turn their noses up at him, close doors in his face. He’s kind of wishy-washy when it comes to the things he’s not passionate about, he smells like wet pavement and cigarette smoke, and can’t for the life of him seem to graduate high school.

He also can’t grow a beard, can’t remember to separate the darks from the lights, can’t tie his shoes without using the bunny ears method, can’t hop in place and rub his tummy, can’t- 

Well the point is, there are a lot of “can’t”s in his life and never a whole lot of “can”s

The one thing Eddie can do without a shadow of a doubt is pursue delusions of grandeur with a single-minded determination. No matter how hard this shit-hole town and all its designation-obsessed inhabitants have tried to beat him into the dirt over the years, he’s never let go of his dreams. Some day, he’s going to play songs for the entire goddamn planet, making millions of dollars off lyrics inspired by all the games and books that have gotten his head shoved in the Hawkin’s High toilets over the years, and Mayor Kline will have to give him a key to the city while Eddie Munson, town freak, gives him the middle finger.

And, if all the stars align and the Big Guy upstairs he doesn’t believe in does him several solids, he’ll be doing it with Steve Harrington standing by his side.

The guys think he’s crazy—Eddie thinks he’s crazy—but Eddie is determined to give his all into courting Steve Harrington before their shared senior year ends. He’s, by and large, the most eligible Omega in all of Hawkins, even with his recent breakup with Nancy Wheeler under his belt. No amount of ditching the popular crowd, adopting a bunch of children, and becoming best friends with band geek Robin Buckley has been enough to deter the Alphas of Hawkins High, even if some of them won’t admit it.

Eddie takes great pleasure in watching every failed courting offer. Steve has always been picky about who he lets take him out, but he hasn’t taken up a single Alpha’s offer since Nancy and the rejections are getting more brutal by the day. Eddie suspects it’s Robin’s influence and if that is the case he needs to thank her profusely because Eddie goes a little weak in the knees every time he sees Steve literally turn up his perfect nose at an offer.

So, the odds aren’t looking good. Steve is picky and Eddie is famously a poor, nobody freak, not the kind of guy with the resources to properly woo a guy like Steve, but what Eddie does have is a lot of passion and a strong desire to prove himself. 

So Eddie has a capital P Plan.

“Hey Buckley,” Eddie says sliding up to the girl where she’s packing up at the bleachers after practice. She gives him a scrutinizing look and clearly finds him lacking, squinting her eyes at him like he’s a little bug landed on her shoulder. Irritating and suspicious. Which, rude. “I was wondering if a fine lady like yourself would happen to know what one Steve Harrington might be hoping for in a courting” Robin clearly wasn’t expecting him to come right out and ask, her blue eyes going wide.

“What the fuck, Munson!” She crows, clearly embarrassed by his lack of tact.

“What!?” He fires back, not understanding what the big deal is. He wants to court Steve and Robin is the best source of information on how to go about it.

“You can’t just ask that, you doofus,” she hisses, lavender scent going smokey like brush fire.

“Why not? I want to court him, like, publicly. Everyone’s gonna know in a couple weeks anyway. Shouldn’t you be glad you’re the first to know?” He huffs. He knows it’s not exactly the done thing to go around telling people you’re going to court someone. You’re supposed to be delicate. Hint at it and build up little courting gifts and don’t look anyone in the eye. It’s dumb as hell and Eddie wants no part of it. Besides, so far as Eddie has seen, that method hasn’t worked on Steve anyway. Eddie may as well go about this in his own way, which includes getting insider information.

Still clearly not impressed, Robin says “You? You want to court Steve? Resident anti-conformist, jock-hating, Eddie Munson wants to court Steve Harrington. Why?” Her tone is clearly disbelieving, which, again, rude.

“Uh, I mean, have you seen him with those kids? He’s wicked hot with that whole mom thing he’s got going on.” At that, Robin gags. “And, I mean, I know he’s a jock but he’s also an Omega and he pretty much said fuck it to Hawkin’s High when he presented and refused to give up his position as captain. That was super fucking metal,” he says all earnest.

“And I like the way he smells, like a fresh cinnamon roll. And we shared an English class once and he asked me about the doodle of a Beholder I worked on instead of taking notes. And I know I’m not exactly a prime Alpha but I don’t think that really matters. At least not to me. I want to kiss him and make sweet love to him and have babies with him and -” Robin cuts him off with a hand over his mouth.

“Ok, I get it. You like him.” She says that, but she’s still looking at him like she can’t figure him out. “Alright…I don’t know if I like you Eddie but I’ll throw you a bone. Just one, got it? And if you fuck it up, I’m not helping you again.” She says, waiting for him to nod before removing her hand from his mouth.

Eddie takes a deep, overdramatic breath in like he’s just breached water. “Got it.”

Robin takes a deep breath of her own. “Steve’s been propositioned for courting 19 times since he presented and he’s only said yes to one. One-off dates not included.” She hasn’t stopped looking him straight in the eye, making sure he pays attention. “Nancy gave him a set of handwritten notes for history because she noticed he was struggling. All the other Alphas got him fancy jewelry, useless house stuff, and generic valentine's day crap.” With that, she gives him one last, long look before grabbing her trumpet and leaving, the sound of metal clanging under her feet following in her wake.

“Thanks, Buckey!” He calls out, waving his hand wildly at her retreating back. She ignores him.

Well, no matter. He’s got a courting to plan.

The thing about courting when you have $3.45 to your name after rent and gas is that you have to get creative. Which isn’t a problem, Eddie breathes creativity. If he wasn't already “The Freak” he’s sure he would be Eddie “The Creative” Munson. Really, it has a nice ring to it.

The problem comes with making something with $3.45 that is also a worthy courting gift for Steve Harrington. Which, given Robin’s tip, might not be as big a concern as he would have thought. But even if Steve would be happy with a heartfelt love letter and those peanut butter brownies Eddie knows he likes, there’s a part of him that wants to blow every other Alpha and Beta that came before him completely out of the water. Maybe especially Nancy Wheeler.

Sue him, he wants to be the best.

Which leaves him with the option of a gesture. Eddie loves a gesture, but this one is going to require some help. Luckily, Eddie knows where every gang of geeks in Hawkin’s makes their dens, even if they’re not his gang of geeks. It comes with being Head Freak. It’s his responsibility, really.

Which is how he finds himself in the Hawkins Middle AV club room being stared down by a bunch of beady-eyed thirteen year olds on the verge of presenting. Jesus, these kids are intense.

“So yeah, that’s what I’m planning,” he finishes explaining. Would it kill them to look a little impressed? He’s pretty proud of it himself. Instead of sharing looks of awe, the six of them share looks of judgement between them, obviously having a silent conversation between them like some kind of hive mind. Eddie will never admit it makes him sweat a little bit.

“You want to ask to court Steve. Steve Harrington?” the tall, skinny one asks like he can’t believe it. Eddie doesn’t know if the disgust is for him or for the Omega. Either way, ouch.

“Yes,” he replies, sweating a little more. They all share more looks, the redhead in particular is looking at him like he’s gum stuck on the bottom of her shoes. 

“Why?” The curly one asks, firm and more seriously than any kid that dorky looking should have any right to speak. Seriously, he looks like a poodle in a Star Wars shirt and a trucker hat. But, Eddie knows enough about Steve to know that these are his kids, his pups, and despite how much it chafes him to have people continually asking why he wants to court Steve, like it isn’t obvious, he knows these pups are just looking out for their pack Omega.

With a deep sigh, Eddie explains for the second time in less than a week, everything he loves about Steve Harrington. At the end of his speech, the pups stare at him for a long moment before simultaneously turning their back on him to form an honest to God huddle. Seriously, the hive mind thing is looking more and more likely. Maybe he should use this for a campaign. Very Children of the Corn.

While Eddie is lost in his musing, they seem to come to some kind of conclusion, breaking up and returning to one solid, unbreakable line. It’s the other girl, hair short and at that awkward growing out length that Eddie knows all too well that steps forward. All these kids are intense, but there’s something especially severe about her, something Eddie only half recognizes.

“We will help you,” she says, quiet and solemn. 

This is going to fucking fantastic, Eddie thinks, wild grin splitting across his face.

It’s embarrassingly easy to sneak a band of six middle schoolers and one elementary schooler into the school after hours. The kids met him outside the building just at exactly 4:00 PM the Friday after their meeting in the AV room just as they planned. The addition of the feisty ten year old was unexpected, but she proved herself invaluable in charming the one teacher that stopped them on their way to the radio room, spinning some tale about being so excited for higher learning that they wanted to explore the high school. Eddie thinks Erica Sinclair should run the world.

The kids are a well oiled, if slightly annoying, machine. As soon as Eddie pops the door open they’re getting to work figuring out how the PA system works and how long the range is. Dustin and Lucas insist that they move the entire unit closer to the field, and Max and Will are quick to source a cart for the whole thing. In record time they’re all piling into the coaches office, the one with a clear view of the basketball court where the team is running their Friday drills. Honestly, it feels a little like they’re highjacking Eddie’s plan, but the smiles on their face and their puppy sweet excitement softens the blow a little.

“You ready?” The curly haired one, Dustin, asks while offering him the mic.

“I was born for this, Dusty,” he says, snatching the mic out of his hand and taking his place outside the main gym doors.

Despite what he said, Eddie is nervous. He shakes his hands and bounces in place, trying to shake it off. Before he’s ready, he hears the slightly crackly jazzy intro pouring through the speakers. He counts his beats, waiting for his que. He spent hours planning this, recording the background music with the band, turning the lyrics over and over in his head, even practicing his grand entrance. He’s as ready as he can be.

God, he hopes this works.

And there’s his que, that little pause in the music just enough time for him to push open the doors to the main gym with all his strength, relishing in the dramatic banging sound.

All eyes are on him. Steve’s eyes are on him.

You're just too good to be true,

Can't take my eyes off of you,

He sings as he walks. All the activity in the gym has come to a halt, everyone too confused and curious to stop it. He’s looking right at Steve, who turns his head like he’s expecting to see someone else behind him. He’s so cute, Eddie wants to eat him alive.

At long last love has arrived,

And I thank God I'm alive,

You're just too good to be true

Eddie knows he doesn’t have a lot of time, any moment now principle Higgins and his one security lackey are going to bust through the doors to find out who stole the announcement equipment. This is the moment, the one that needs to count. Eddie saunters right up to Steve like his heart isn’t trying to beat out of his chest and kneels down like a knight to their king. He takes his hand, and Steve lets him as he sings the next line looking right up into those beautiful hazel eyes.

Can't take my eyes off of you.

He turns the hand in his own over to expose the Omega’s wrist just as the music pauses and presses a soft, lingering kiss to the gland there. A courting kiss.

Almost like he planned it, the doors burst open a second time revealing the fuming face of Principle Higgins and his goon. He turns a manic grin Steve’s way just as the music picks back up, cutting straight to the chorus. He presses one last kiss to Steve’s wrist and takes in the way his pretty, pink lips are parted in disbelief, eyes wide and then he’s running.

I love you baby,

And if it's quite alright,

I need you baby,

To warm the lonely nights

Let it never be said that Eddie Munson, for all the ways he fails to be the ideal Alpha, doesn’t have a hell of a lot of stamina. He’s been a proud runner all his life, and he’s using it to his advantage today to put on a show. He’s singing and he’s running as Higgins and Officer Jerry chase his tail like they have any hope of catching him when he doesn’t want to be caught, when he can see the most beautiful boy in the world laughing at him in disbelief as he ducks and dodges around the court.

But even Eddie has his limits and, like he said, he planned this to a T. He can feel himself running out of breath but he refuses to call it before the climax. He’s stomping his way up the bleachers, making a show of going between the rows dancing like he’s in an old hollywood musical. Higgin’s is closing in, but there’s now way he’s getting caught. Not today. He puts in a burst of speed, leaving them in the dust and putting himself right at the top of the wooden stands, singing directly to Steve who is absolutely glowing on the court.

And let me love you,

Baby let me love you…

The music gives one last swell, the Corroded Coffin of two days ago pouring their heart out for the Eddie of today. The music comes to an abrupt halt, the gym very quickly filling with laughter and applause. The kids are screaming their heads off in the office, loud enough to draw Steve’s attention to where they can be seen through the large window. The joy and disbelief on Steve’s face makes all of this worth it, no matter what happens next.

Eddie wishes he could relish in it longer, but the goon squad is gaining ground fast and he has one last message to give before he hauls ass into the next phase of his plan. He starts inching his way toward the exit, not taking his eyes off Steve as he goes. He needs him to hear this.

“Steve Harrington, it would be the honor of my life to court you with the intention of mating. Meet me at the lake at seven if you’ll hear me out.” And with that, he’s gone. He wishes he could stay to see his reaction, but he’s out of time.

He pushes through the emergency exit to the sound of hollering and clapping, all he can do now is commence with phase two.

Phase two mainly consists of picking everything up from the trailer, changing into his nice clothes, and heading toward Lover’s Lake to set everything up.

Eddie thinks this is the most nerve wracking part of the whole plan. In many ways, the whole big performance was the easy part. Eddie loves to perform, eats up the attention like a cat laps up milk. This, the full bearing of his heart to the Omega he wants to spend his life with, is far scarier than anything else. Here in the back of his van, the paper hearts and pillar candles, hand-picked daisies and hand-made peanut butter brownies, leave him completely exposed.

He wonders if Steve will show up.

He wishes he didn’t set up so god damn early. The waiting is excruciating.

The Alpha paces around, adjusts the blankets on the bottom of the van and then decides they were better before, and checks his watch every half minute like it will make time move faster. He sits and watches the hands turn from 6:59 to 7:00. Maybe Steve won’t come. Maybe this was all for nothing and he’ll have to go back to school on Monday and pretend like he isn’t heartbroken.

His watch continues to tick. 7:03, 7:07, 7:10. He’s getting ready to pick it all back up when he hears the muffled sound of tires on soft dirt. Suddenly, his heart is in his throat as he watches the distinct headlights of his favorite Beamer turn into the clearing.

Eddie scrambles to his feet, he has a plan to carry out.

He watches, heart in his throat as Steve parks. Watches as the door opens and Steve emerges, a sweet, sheepish smile on his face.

“Sorry I’m late.” Steve looks like a dream. He clearly went home and had a shower and a change of clothes. He’s wearing light wash jeans that hug his thighs and a soft looking, deep red sweater, the collar of a white dress shirt peeking out from underneath. He’s dressed up for Eddie.

There’s a long pause where Eddie forgets how to speak and Steve just stands there, clearly waiting for Eddie to make a move. Eddie comes back to himself all at one, shaking his head hard like a dog, making Steve let out a startled laugh. “What the hell?” He asks, not mean, but bemused. 

“My deepest apologies my liege, I was simply stunned by your beauty,” he says with a half bow, extending his arm for Steve to take. “It is my pleasure to welcome you to Cafe Munson, the finest pop up restaurant this side of Indiana.” It’s goofy and a little ridiculous but Steve takes the offered arm with a little smile, sending a pleasant jolt through his body. 

Eddie leads Steve toward the open back of the van, watching him intently as he takes it in. He gets to see as the Omega’s eyes go wide, mouth parting in a little gasp. When he turns to look at Eddie, he’s already looking back. “You did this for me?” He asks, wonder coloring his voice. All of a sudden Eddie feels a little shy, a little sheepish.

“I know it’s not much, I’m not exactly liquid at the moment, but I wanted to do something nice for you,” he says, unoccupied arm reaching up to tug a piece of hair over his mouth. Steve looks at him for a long moment before turning back to the van. There are blankets everywhere, pretty much every one from the house plus a couple he nicked from Gareth’s house after practice. The emergency pillar lights from the pantry give the space a soft glow, paper hearts hang from string from the metal roof, and a repurposed laundry basket full of tupperwares and miller lites sits in the center.

“It’s perfect” Steve says, and Eddie can’t help but believe him. Not when his scent is blooming, cinnamon roll sweet, right under Eddie’s nose.

Eddie leads him to the van, gives him his hand to help him into the back. He takes a moment to take it all in, Steve Harrington settling into a date with Eddie Munson. It’s his biggest dream come true. 

He climbs in after the other boy and starts pulling out tupperwares. Steve has settled in to lean on the wall of pillows Eddie constructed for just this reason, pulling a blanket over the both of them when Eddie settles in next to him. Steve laughs with every overly dramatic introduction he makes for the food, and Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever been this warm. Neither of them brings up why they’re here, the underlying meaning behind it all. They dance around it, laughing about the kids, Steve’s sports and Eddie’s games, the look on Principle Higgin’s face when he burst into the gym earlier that day. The whole place smells like cinnamon and smoke, Eddie doesn’t think there’s a better smell in the whole world.

They don’t say a thing about courting or mating or scents until they polish off their cold pasta, courtesy of Wayne, and Eddie pulls out the last tupperware from the bottom of the laundry basket. “And for dessert, may I have a drumroll please….” Steve rolls his eyes but smiles as he complies, drumming a little beat with fingers on the side of the van. Eddie pulls out the container with a flourish, “The finest peanut butter brownies $3.15 worth of ingredients from Melvald’s can get you.” He expects laughter, maybe some light teasing as Steve has been shown to enjoy throughout the night, but all he gets is silence. 

He worries, for a moment, that he got it wrong. Maybe Steve doesn’t like peanut butter brownies. Jesus H Christ, maybe he’s allergic to peanuts and Eddie has just massively fucked this up. He’s getting ready to spiral and try to fix it when Steve speaks, voice soft in a way Eddie can’t place.

“Those are my favorites,” he says. When Eddie is brave enough to look at his face again, he’s met with wet, adoring eyes. Eddie doesn't know if anyone has ever looked at him like that before. Like he was something magical. Something special just for them.

Eddie clears his throat when Steve doesn’t say anything else. Just keeps staring at him like he’s waiting for something big. “Yeah, yeah I know,” he says, bracing himself for what comes next. “I uh, I saw you buy some at the club fair last year. You bought three of them and then came back for one more before they closed the booth.” It shouldn’t be such a big admission, but it feels like he’s just handed Steve his heart on a silver platter.

“Eddie?” Steve asks, turning toward him fully.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, sitting up so they’re eye to eye.

“What you said, on the basketball court, will you ask me again?” He’s looking at him with so much hope in his eyes, Eddie almost feels like he could choke on it. Instead, he focuses in on the perfect scent of the man next to him, breathes steadily in and out.

“It would be the honor of my life to court you with the intention of mating, Steve Harrington.” As he says it, he reaches into his pocket for his last offering, his hail mary pass, his death saving throw. It’s a silly thing, cost his last 30 cents at the stationary store, but he was listening to Robin on those bleachers that day. Knows that the gesture and the picnic are all well and good, but what Steve has been missing with all those other Alphas is someone who notices the small details and holds them close. Someone who cares about his C+ in History, someone who knows his favorite brownies are swirled with peanut butter.

Someone who notices that he lost his eraser last week and has been meaning to pick up a new one.

Eddie holds out his heart one last time, it’s shaped like a 30 cent eraser. White and covered with a paper band. The best one on the market.

Steve stares at the little eraser like it contains the answers to the universe, and then he’s plucking it, oh so gently, out of his hands and cradling it in his own. Eddie waits, the ball is completely in Steve’s court now, Eddie has played all his cards.

Suddenly, Steve scent starts to bloom, even more than it did when he first saw the van. The smell of sugar, cinnamon, and yeast so strong it makes Eddie feel light headed. Eddie gets a glimpse of the most beautiful smile in the world just before Steve is throwing his arm around his neck, nudging his way into his lap to notch his head right at Eddie’s scent gland. Eddie’s arms instinctually wrap around his back, keeping him close.

“Yes,” Steve says, the sound of it muffled by the soft skin of Eddie’s neck. Eddie squeezes him tight, knows he needs to ask, just to make sure but worried he’s hallucinating. Scared to believe he’s getting everything he’s ever wanted.

“Yes?” He asks, lips trembling where they’ve found their own place at Steve’s neck, wanting to be as close as possible, just in case.

“Yes.” And Steve is pulling back, which Eddie hates, and cupping his face in is hands. “It would be the honor of my life to accept your courting offer, Eddie Munson,” he says, sure and steady and full to the brim of hope.

“Holy shit.” Eddie can’t believe this is happening. Despite all the planing and the performing and the putting his heart on the line he never actually let himself think that this would happen. Never let himself think about how it would end.

Without much though Eddie barrels forward to bury his head back into the Omega’s neck, his Omega’s neck, peppering him with fervent little kisses until Steve is giggling so hard he tips them over into the pile of pillows behind him. Eddie is full to the brim with joy, happier than he’s ever been and all of a sudden he needs to move. Needs to let the whole world know what he’s got in the palm of his hands.

He jolts up with one last kiss to Steve’s cheek, managing a quick “be right back!” before he launching himself out of the van. He hears Steve calling out in confusion, but it quickly turns into more joyous laughter as Eddie steps out of the van and starts jumping in place, punching the air and whooping into the night sky.

“Fuck you Hawkins! I’m courting Steve Harrington! I’m on top of the God Damn world!” He gets in one last double bird in the general direction of Main Street before Steve is calling him back in.

“Ok, you’ve had your moment. Now get your ass back in here and kiss me for real, you dumb Alpha,” he says, laughter still caught in his throat. And really? Who is Eddie do deny a request like that?

So excited for MMM, guys! I won't be doing every day, but I will be doing at lest a couple of full one shots and some of my normal ramblings. (Also, this is the longest thing I've ever written that wasn't an academic paper and I am low key very proud of myself)

[y2kstarr]

secret celebration - c. sturniolo

࣪˖ ִ⭑ ࣪ warning : sexual usage of icing, smut w/ zero plot

"Oh fuck, Chris-!"

Your back arched against the cold marble of your kitchen counter, empty beer cans and your already-cut-into birthday cake scattered about the surface, along with your bikini top as your bottoms hung off one of your ankles.

You were throwing a damn good party for your birthday already, having loved getting to spend time with your friends on such a special holiday. But now that everyone went to the backyard to enjoy your pool, leaving the house empty for the time being, you and Chris stayed inside to.. celebrate a bit more.

His long fingers pumped in and out of your soaked cunt, his thumb drawing messy circles against your clit as his mouth worked wonders on your nipples.

A slice of birthday cake sat next to the both of you on a plate, divots in the icing as Chris had smeared it along your tits, his cheesing and chuckling at the action working in persuading you into letting him do it.

"S–shit—" You gasped as your fingers tugged at his brunet curls, hearing him moan against your tit as his tongue pressed flat against your perked nipple, licking up the icing he'd smeared there moments ago.

"Fuck— Taste so sweet, ma," He grinned and chuckled at his tease, being playful in a way you could never get enough of as his eyes looked up at your thrown back head, your hips rolling to meet his fingers desperately.

"Mm— 'M close– A–ah—!" You gasped out a moan as Chris teasingly bit at your other nipple that was yet to have the icing licked off of it, your eyes rolling back as that quick moment of pain blurred into delicious pleasure that just added to the fire in your abdomen. You thanked the gods your friends had the speakers going with music outside.

"C'mon baby, give it t'me, c'mon," He groaned against your tit, his eyes looking up at you as he flicked your nipple with his tongue, pumping his fingers within you just right, and rubbing your clit with such ease. So much pleasure, so much touching you, it finally broke the knot within you, your orgasm washing over you in waves as you moaned out his name blissfully.

You panted as you came down from your high, your thighs quivering as Chris slowed his fingers until they stopped, a whine leaving your lips as he slipped them out and brought them to his lips, sucking them clean with a groan.

"Now nothing is sweeter than that, not even the icing," He teased, licking the corner of his mouth that still sported just a smidge of icing on it, making you breathlessly giggle adorably at his stupid jokes and whatnot, a matching chuckle leaving him too as he leaned in and pecked your lips.

"Happy Birthday, baby."

a / n : did a little side quest to make this as a little birthday gift for my moot @chrissleftshoe 😋 (sorry i'm posting it so late in the day 😭) hope you like!

Inbox is wide open for requests or just chatting :3

tags : @sillysillymatt, @jcsturniolo11, @strnilolover, @whore4mattsturniolo

dividers → @qqmariztwsse and @bernardsbendystraws

[dreaming-marchling]

Snippet Saturday - Bobby Paternity Fic

Tagged by @eowon - thank you!

The first part of this that I shared is here

---

Maddie looked like she had been through war.

It wasn’t his fault, Bobby knew that, but he still felt responsible for this entire thing exploding when Maddie had an injured brother and a baby that was due to arrive in just a couple of months.

“Am I okay?” Maddie repeated with a shaky laugh, “I don’t know. It’s amazing how fast I can fall right back into it.”

“Into what?” Hen asked as gently as she could.

They didn’t want to interrogate Maddie, especially after she had just had a clearly difficult talk with her parents. Bobby wasn’t really sure if there was any way around it though. This was happening whether any of them were ready for it or not.

“Sit, sit…” Chim said, ushering Maddie over to the nearest seat.

Maddie sat. She shut her eyes and exhaled slow and steady.

Then she opened her eyes and looked straight at Bobby.

“Mom wouldn’t talk about it. She just keeps insisting that Dad is Evan’s father.” Maddie told him, sorry for reasons Bobby wasn’t sure of yet, “She was practically hysterical about it, even for her.”

Even for her.

Maddie didn’t stop to explain that, she just kept talking, “But Dad says that she only tried once.”

Only once. Only Bobby.

“If she’s telling her husband the truth.” Eddie said. He looked apologetically at Bobby, “Spare him, too ashamed, whatever. She might have been lying.”

She might have been.

How did Evan find him?

“I hate myself,” Hen said to the general group before she locked in on Bobby, “Condom?”

That he didn’t remember made him feel that little bit worse about all of this. Irresponsible. Maggie – Margaret – was probably the only woman in his life who he had slept with and then never seen again otherwise he would be panicking right now about other children out there.

“It was my college friend’s wedding weekend.” Bobby said, as if that made him being drunk better. As if they didn’t know. “I was drunk. I remember going up to her room with her and not much after.”

Athena’s hand went impossibly tighter around his.

Maddie let out a teary breath, “That makes it worse. Mom doesn’t drink like ever.”

Though he would never ask, Bobby had to wonder what had made her pick him. Was it that he had been drunk? He didn’t look much like her husband, so it couldn’t have been that beyond picking a white man. Had she just gone with any man that showed interest? He had looked healthy enough that she was reasonably sure he didn’t have any horrible family history of disease?

It was probably that he had been drunk.

---

(@ambernotember, @asmuchasidliketo, @rainbow-nerdss, @cathcer1984, @actualalligator, @inell, @daffi-990, @thunderstormoffawesomeness, @harmonic-intervention, @big-urchin-energy, @fyrehose, @princessfbi, @devirnis because you asked to be tagged and/or reblogged the first part - just let me know if you don't want to be tagged again and I wont!)

[di-42]

So, I was criminally tight on time in January and really couldn’t read much at all, but fear not: as a demon friend of ours once said, I’m back. True, most of the moots on my corner of Tumblr would have already read most of these fics and poems, but if I can earn one of these wonderful works even just one more reader, that’s my job done. As always, I'm begging you, please don’t judge a fic you haven’t read by the number of kudos. And, as always, I’ll tag the tumblr usernames I know; if you are an author and want your fic taken off this list, please let me know and I’ll remove it. The rest of you, I hope you enjoy these stories and poems as much as I did.

These are the things I loved about

Winter’s Wondrous Fictions

WIPs:

That Isn't Supposed To Happen by @addledmongoose, rated T, chapters 19/22.

Aaahhh, give me Addled’s stories every day for the rest of my life, please and thank you. This is a reverse omens AU. You don't really care for reverse omens, I hear you say? Yep, neither did I, and yet here I am, daydreaming about Azira the demon and Crowley (short for Crowliel) the angel as much as I daydream about our canon Aziraphale and Crowley. This is not something new that happens to me with this great author’s stories, by the way. When writing my own fics, I have to stop and think if I'm referring to something that actually happened in canon or something that happened in Addled’s stories, they're that good. But back to this fic, Azira is just so perfect as a demon, it feels like he was born to be one. Their banter, dynamics, subtle humour and characterisation are, as always, spot on and, oh! The pining! The pining is just so, so good. Oh, and did I mention plot and mystery? I'm loving this story way more than I thought I could love a reverse omens AU, and am sad it's going to be over soon. 

Scorn And The Saint-Maker by beardo @e-rated-beardo, rated E, chapters 33/?

This story is a mystery within a mystery. I've only recently started it and am still catching up, but I am hooked. Human university lecturers AU, or is it? (That's not a spoiler if you read the summary). The plot is compelling, the narration and humour delightful, and the prose at times so touching. And, goodness me, it’s hot (all the explicit scenes are skippable). I feel like I’ve stepped into one of those universes that I would never want to leave. There is also some beautiful art by the author that I sadly can appreciate very seldom as it doesn't upload when I'm not on wi-fi, but hopefully you'll be able to enjoy it!

Wavelengths & Frequencies by @shadesofecclescakes and imposterssyndrome @maaikeatthefullmoon rated E, chapters 18/?

This story is such a warm, cozy, comfort blanket. Human enemies-to-lovers where Aziraphale and Crowley work as DJ for the same media corporation. They have a history, but, while we know they do from the beginning, we don't know what it is. Great story, great humour, great characterisation, great fuzzies.

Complete Stories: 

You're The Bad Guys by Nebz_AlphaCentauri @alphacentaurinebula rated E, 91k.

Fantastic human, cold war AU. Aziraphale is an MI6 agent, Crowley a KGB agent and they're both tasked to steal scientific plans by their respective sides. It's Armageddon all over again, but with hot scenes. I loved it. 

The Last Angel by @bellisima-writes, rated E, 162k.

I don't think there is anything about this epic story that I haven't said before. The author builds an incredible plot and you wonder excitedly where this is all going. You can't stop reading because you want to know what happens and because the prose is so beautiful. Like I've said several times before, this is the most Good Omens-y fic I've read. Let yourself be captured and join Bellisima for this wonderful ride!

The Greater Tadfield Friends Of Music Autumn Concert by CopperBeech @copperplatebeech, rated E, 27k.

I love how this story communicates all sorts of feelings through a fast, concise, no-nonsense  style. Crowley moves to Tadfield and joins the local orchestra. The rest is fiction. 

As always, I'm particularly partial to The Them and Warlock making appearances. And I LOVE Zingarelli!

One Shots:

Aziraphale Gets A Clue by Serenity Stargazer, rated T, 3k.

It's Christmas. Aziraphale is in heaven as Supreme Archangel and Crowley wants to get his attention. He succeeds.

A Nice And Accurate Teen Magazine Quiz by @fellshish, rated T, 2.7k.

Fellshish strikes again with this adorable and extremely funny piece in which Crowley takes credit for teen magazines in hell. Then he browses one of the magazines and takes the soulmate quiz. Then Crowley will be Crowley. I'm sure everyone this side of Tumblr has already read it, but if for some reason you haven't yet you're in for a treat!

Poems: 

PJs, Optional by FuzzyGoblin and koala2all, rated E.

This hilarious poem is made up of a series of limericks all relating to pyjamas that might or might not be worn by our favourite angel and demon. It manages to be funny, sweet and hot, all in the space of 50 lines. I love it!

(Un)Holy Palmers by @on1occasionfork, rated G.

An incredibly beautiful and moving poem about what is like to express love for one another while hiding it from the powers that be. 

Do That Again (And Again) by AlwaysBeMyBaby @alwaysbemybae and OneDapperCat, rated G.

A beautiful through the ages poem about all the ineffable kisses that could have been.

The Demon And The Angel by Hopeless_old_romantic_67, rated G.

Gorgeous poem inspired by The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes. Little warning, it is sad. But so beautiful and deep. 

A Most Peculiar Spa by AlwaysBeMyBaby and OneDapperCat, rated G.

Lovely and funny poem in which Aziraphale tells Crowley about his latest bubble bath! Be sure to read the notes!

@goodomensafterdark

December 24's list here.

[joelsprettyprincess]

Sharing is Caring

Pairing: Joel Miller + Arthur Morgan + Simon 'Ghost' Riley + John Price x f!reader Wordcount: 2k Tags: Extremely explicit smut, kind of dubcon (consent is assumed), oral, anal, piv (protected, for once), free-use, slight daddy kink, five(?)some, it's not poly they're just running a train on her. A/N: Okay. Um. Not sure what happened, I meant to write a little BLURB about this and it turned into a whole thing. Anyway..I tried to do it in a different style; it's kind of fragmented, instead of a proper story. Also this is very nasty. I fear this is even more self-indulgent than my Dutch x reader fic, but I hope you guys enjoy anyway!! And MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! FOCUS ON YOUR ALGEBRA HOMEWORK 😒

joel preps you a couple hours beforehand. takes you over the knee, and fingers you till you're blubbering and begging him to stopkeep going. he slowly stretches out both your holes with plenty of lube. once he's got you properly ready, he slides a cute bejeweled buttplug between your asscheeks to make it...easier, later on. the hot pink heart winks up at him.

he has you greet his friends with him at the door. you've never seen them before, but they know you. you and your pretty body, your soft lips, your ass that hides the curve of your cunt. oh, yes, they know you, courtesy of the souvenir photos joel takes when you're cockdrunk and passed out.

they file in, one by one, big hulking figures. arthur, the freelance artist, who's already eyeing your curves, barely hidden by the tiny skirt joel put you in. you try fruitlessly to pull it down as he passes by. next is simon, or ghost, as he tells you to call him. an ex-military man who's even bigger than joel, with eyes like a wolf. "you look good enough to eat," he tells you.

"later," joel promises.

last is john, who you actually have met before. occasionally, when joel is in the mood to share, he invites him over for some fun– the fun being you. you'd had his cock stuffed down your throat at least half a dozen times. "hello again, love," he greets you, patting your head. you smile bashfully, already starting to get wet (thanks to the aphrodisiac joel had slipped into your food earlier). he was always kind to you, even more than joel sometimes.

the men all sit on the L-shaped couch– there's a big game today, or something. joel sits you between him and john, while arthur and ghost sit on the other side. "get us a beer, honey," joel says. when you get up to fetch them, john slaps your ass as you walk by. the men chuckle when you squeak.

you collect 4 beers and carry them in your arms back to the living room. after distributing them, the men focus on the hockey game, but john won't leave you alone. he lets his large hand rest on your thigh, then creeps it closer to your fluttering cunt. you push it away, but it's only a few seconds before he's invading your space again. you whine quietly, and joel notices. "leave her alone," he chides. "all in good time."

joel leaves to use the bathroom, leaving you alone with 2 strangers and john. arthur immediately slides over. "joel's told us a lot about you," he says, giving you a smile that reveals a hint of his canines. "oh," you say wondrously. you wonder what he's said. you wonder how arthur's chest looks under his slightly too-tight shirt.

"you like living here with 'im?" he asks. "y'know, if he's treating you wrong you could stay with me." he chuckles. you shake your head. "i like it here," you tell him. "he does everything for me." now ghost is closing in, unashamedly staring at your breasts. "real cute outfit you got on," he comments. you feel self-conscious in your tiny black tank top and short pink skirt. "daddy picked it out for me," you explain, referring to joel.

just then, joel comes back, and scolds the men, who've surrounded you as if you're their prey. "get off her– I told you all in good time, didn't I?"

"we've barely got to see her, what with you and john squishing her," arthur complains. ghost nods in agreement. "come sit by us, sweetheart, let us have a look at you." you look at joel for permission, and he nods, sighing. you switch places, now sitting between arthur and ghost.

after a while the men start to talk, about sports, about their friends...about women. joel tells them all about how obedient you are, how it took no time at all to mold you into his perfect stupid fuckdollgirlfriend. your face grows hot and you smile at the floor, embarrassed. it's not helping that arthur's been kneading your breast for the last 10 minutes and your panties are becoming soaked.

by this time all the men except joel have downed 2 or 3 beers, and they're getting handsier. ghost has been tracing circles on your thigh, 'accidentally' letting his fingers go up your skirt and graze the edge of your panties.

the men all silently exchange glances, unseen by you, and abruptly stand up. arthur pulls you along to the dining room, where the table has been cleared off. only a thin blanket remains on it...wait, what? you squeal in surprise as arthur easily lifts you and places you face down, ass up on the table.

the men surround you with hungry looks on their faces. "now, gentlemen, let me remind you of the rules," joel speaks. "don't hog a hole, everyone will have a turn. clean yourself off if you're going ass to mouth. use a condom, she's not on the pill. and simon, I know how you are with anal. be gentle. in fact, all of you, don't hurt her too badly."

"i want her ass first," arthur announces, already pulling down his pants. he flips up your skirt, and inhales sharply when he sees the heart-shaped outline of your buttplug against your light blue panties. he makes short work of your panties, tugging at them so urgently that they rip and fall onto the blanket in tatters.

the rest of the men quickly pull off their pants as well, eager to claim a hole. it's a bit daunting, staring at three muscular men who are hellbent on taking their stress out on your poor holes. joel allows his guests to pick first– ghost rests his thick cock against your lips. your tongue instinctively darts out to get a taste, before you can stop yourself.

"i haven't had the pleasure of her cunt in weeks," john sighs. he elbows arthur out of the way, and the two of them tap and stroke their tips against your two tight holes. arthur slowly pulls out your buttplug, and you whine loudly at the stretch. your hole is left gaping, the perfect opportunity for him to slide in. you grip the table and moan into the blanket, keeping your legs opened as wide as possible to accommodate him.

john puts on a condom and easily slides into your pussy, sticky and sopping with your own arousal. tears prick at your fluttering eyes as the two men stuff you full of cock. you stick your tongue out, overcome with need.

ghost pushes your mouth onto his cock, and you start sucking like the tip is made of candy. joel stands to the side, grabs your hand, and uses it to pump his throbbing shaft.

"she's so fuckin' tight," arthur grunts out, barely even halfway in your ass. he's right, you're gripping his cock like you need it to survive. he places both hands on your asscheeks, stroking and slapping them as he slowly moves in and out. john's just beside him, thrusting into your tight sticky cunt– the sounds are driving him crazy. your slightly pained groans, the creamy schwelp schwelp of your pussy– oh, he missed this.

ghost is the first to cum. driven crazy by your tongue slurping every inch of his cock and the feel of your plush lips practically sealing it in your mouth, he holds you by the hair and jerks off till thick globs and ropes of cum land on your face. he puts his tip against your tongue and finishes his release there, leaving a big puddle which you promptly swallow.

soon after, arthur cums, spreading your cheeks and keeping them still while he dumps a hot, thick load in your ass. it leaks out even while he's still inside you, dripping down to your pussy. "fuck, honey..." he mutters, pulling out. he observes your winking hole, already getting hard again.

ghost takes his place. he barely stops to clean up arthur's mess; just wipes off the excess with a paper towel and pushes his once-again stiff cock in your ass. you cry out, still sensitive from the stretch of arthur before. arthur's cum oozes out of you with every thrust.

john is still jackhammering your pretty pussy, and he's close. he presses himself balls deep inside you, and you can feel his cock twitching as he cums inside the condom. it could be the aphrodisiac, but the thought of him possibly knocking you up makes you twice as wet. he pulls out and fingers your spasming cunt, encouraging you to cum. you whine and moan loudly as arthur, who's just finished cleaning off his cock, slides his shaft between your puffy lips. your eyes roll, and you cum hard, squirting on john's hand and on the blanket. you thrash your legs a bit as john refuses to let up, and keeps fingering your extremely sensitive pussy.

joel finally reaches his peak as well, shooting a thick rope onto your hand, then getting closer and glazing your already cum-covered face with even more. some of it gets in your hair, which he knows you hate. his cum oozes down your face, and you can feel it sliding down to your right eye. he and john switch places, with john making you cradle his balls, while joel whistles when he sees the mess that your pussy is. he's the only one that can go bareback, the only one that's able to cum inside you. and he intends on doing exactly that.

joel wastes no time and pushes into your still-recovering pussy, watching your slightly swollen lips automatically grip him. you're still sticky with arousal, and it coats his cock. "you love being passed around by daddy's friends?" he mutters, smacking your ass. "you want 'em all to have a turn in this sweet pussy?" you can't answer, as arthur's got his cock in your mouth. but you whine, and if the sound of your creamy pussy is any indicator, you love this.

the men all take turns in your various holes, dumping load after load in your ass, in your mouth, and on your face. only joel cums straight in your pussy, but the others make up for it by covering your body with their hot loads. you cum more times than you can count, and by the end, the air smells of lust and sweat.

after they've all been fully satisfied, then men step back and survey their handiwork. your face is completely covered with multiple loads that are dripping off your face. your right eye is closed; you're unable to open it because of the cum that joel deposited on your eyelid. your lips are pink and puffy, and your tongue hangs out, tired after coaxing so many loads out of the men.

your asscheeks are also glazed with cum, and even your back has some white ropes. your ass is gaping, with cum oozing out of it. several used condoms have been thrown haphazardly on your body, mostly on your back.

and finally, your poor pussy. though it had the least amount of cum, it had taken the most abuse; all of the men had bullied your cunt into multiple orgasms, and now there's a puddle of arousal underneath you. joel's cum leaks from between your pussy lips onto the blanket.

your head lays on the table– you don't have the strength to even look up anymore.

"fuckin' beautiful," john says quietly, and the men agree. they all clean themselves off and get redressed, then joel coaxes you off the table. you stumble, then right yourself. more cum oozes out of your ass onto the floor. "'s okay, c'mon," he says, holding you by your left hand– maybe the only place on your whole body that hasn't been glazed.

the men watch you leave. your ass jiggles a bit, and arthur sighs. "we've got to come back, and soon."

[beingalive1]

𝐀𝐧 𝐀𝐝𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒

Rupert Campbell Black x Oc (Francesca Wellington)

Summary: Francesca Wellington was everything Rupert Campbell Black was and more. A successful show jumper with a title and an estate, she had it all. She was a constant reminder of the man he once was. He couldn't help but hate her for it and yet, he loved her for it just the same.

Part Three: here

Part Four: The hatred begins

Author's note: I apologise for the lack of updates, I just started med school and have been working non-stop. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Comment if you would like to be added to this series's taglist. xx

Caitlyn O'hara could not stop staring at Francesca Wellington's luscious breasts. The young girl's eyes were practically fixated upon the Lady's bosom as Frank breathed. Francesca was reclined on Taggie's bed. Her tan legs stretched across the comforter as cigarette smoke wafted above her head like a pearl halo. Caitlyn silently wondered if she had been some sort of criminal or dictator in a past life. The young girl must have committed some horrifying war crimes or pissed off the gods in some sort of way.  It was the only reasonable explanation as to why she looked like she did, and Francesca Wellington looked like that. Like a greek goddess with a  posh accent.  Francesca Wellington had clearly hit the genetic lottery: her tan skin, curly hair, athletic build and voluptuous breasts. 

Frank had it all.

 Caitlyn wondered if she should quit school and become an olympic show jumper; it clearly had its perks. 

"You look absolutely ravishing in that." Francesca stated, smoke dripping from her pink lips as she exhaled. 

Caitlyn's eyes drifted from the heiress and onto her sister. Taggie's usual party dress, the blue mini, had mysteriously disappeared from her closet. In a panic Tag had called her new friend Frank for aid. Frank had insisted on coming over, she had brought three bags full of dresses with her. 

When hearing about Taggie's new friend, Caitlyn had imagined a sweet farm girl with buckteeth and blonde pigtails. The options of dresses were sure to be dreary and conservative. Caitlyn was infinitely surprised when the Francesca Wellington strolled through the front door with bags of Chanel and Dior. 

Taggie didn't even know her new friend was famous. Her dyslexia often causing her to stray from the fashion magazines Caitlyn poured over. The fashion magazines whose cover often frequented Frank's likeliness  - despite the heiress's aversion to the press. Caitlyn loved her sister but sometimes Tag could be so daft. How could she not recognise one of the most famous women in England as her new found friend?

Talk about an opportunity. 

"Turn around I want to see the back." Francesca said as she glided off the bed and walked towards Taggie. Frank's hazel eyes gazed at Taggie through the mirror, Frank's focus aimed at the green dress draped over her new friend's body. Taggie looked good. Every eye at Tony Baddingham's stupid garden party will surely be captured by the woman. They would be stupid not to admire her. 

Taggie stared at Frank, waiting for the heiress's verdict. 

"You look like a movie star Tag." 

Taggie smiled, her grin bright as she turned to face Frank.

 "Thank you for this." 

Frank shrugged, her bare feet inching their way across Tag's carpet as she made her way back to the bed. The cigarette extinguished in an ashtray on the bedside table. Taggie didn't smoke; she had stolen the ashtray from her father for Frank. It was important for a good host to cater to the needs of their houseguests. Frank needed an ashtray. Tag would happily ignore her father's complaints for the next few hours.

 "Of course." Frank replied, "I get all these clothes sent to me by fashion houses. It's a total waste. I spend my time riding horses not striding down runways. They never get worn. Might as well let your sexy self take them for a spin."

Caitlyn listened attentively to the famous woman sitting across from her.  The young girl lusting after the woman's clothing collection. Cait silently recalled how even Madonna herself had referred to Frank as a style icon in an interview once. The pop-star stated how she admired Frank for never talking to the press. It was obvious that Frank didn't need to: her clothes and awards spoke for her.  Tag being able to wear something owned by the Francesca Wellington was mind-blowing for the young teen, even if her sister didn't recognise just how famous Frank was. Francesca and her brash character was  fashion at its finest - despite her lack of trying

Cait subtly wiped the drool from her mouth, she had to stop daydreaming. 

Caitlyn inched closer to Frank, the teen's sharp gaze taking in the elder woman's attire. Frank seemed too casual for a garden party. A white, sleeveless polo neck and cream knit trousers draped over her figure. Her feet sported sandals and her hands an infinite amount of jewellery. "Is that what you're wearing to the party Francesca?" Caitlyn asked gently, her gaze still stuck on the way star's curly hair fanned out across the bedding. A black curtain draped over a cotton cloud. 

"You can call me Frank, Caity. And you're right, I should probably change." Frank stated as she gazed at the teen fondly. Caitlyn, though moony eyed in Frank's presence, was a spitfire with a great sense of humour. Despite only having  just met her a few hours prior, Frank had already grown fond of Caitlyn's wild commentary on the world and the residents of Colchester. Francesca particularly found Caitlyn's fixation on Rupert Campbell Black's supple arse  hilarious. "Fred would be upset if I arrived in my loungewear."

"Is Fred your boyfriend?" Caitlyn asked in quick succession. She hadn't heard any news in the paper of a lover in the Wellington heiress's life. A secret scoop into the life of one of the most famous women in the country would make her very popular with the girls at her eventual boarding school. 

Frank laughed outwardly. "No" She giggled, the laugh light and airy, "he's a dear friend. Old. Could be my dad. But his wife loves fashion. She always loves to ask if I've been keeping in touch with Gianni Versace. Don't want to upset her by coming to the party looking like I've just woken up. Even if I think Tony Baddingham is a right arse. I'm only coming to this party cause Fred asked." 

Caitlyn had stopped listening after Gianni Versace. The teen jumping to interrogate Frank on any other celebrities she might know. 

Maud O'hara rushed into the bedroom, her intrusion interrupting Caitlyn midway through her third question about Jake Ryan. The mysteriously missing blue mini tight upon her skin. Taggie and Caitlyn stared up at their mother in mild disgust. Frank grabbed a dress off the floor and walked into Taggie's adjacent bathroom to change. 

She was not getting involved in that conversation. 

Francesca made her way back into the room whilst the two O'hara sisters whispered to one another, Maud having left when Frank was changing. The presence of the heiress, draped in a dark blue satin dress caused the other two girls to fall silent. 

"What do you think?" Frank asked, her manner almost shy under the other girls' gazes. It had been a long time since she had gotten ready with women her own age. Her usual company consisted of mildly overweight men over the age of forty. Her trainer Marty never cared about what she wore, only if she could ride a horse. Freddie wasn't exactly a fashion connoisseur either: he had Valerie for a wife. She had a horrible habit for mixing tiger print with bright pink. Even Frank's fashion magazine editorials were run by male photographers with receding hairlines and scarves draped across their necks. She very rarely had a woman express an opinion on what she wore. Never mind two. 

"You look great." Taggie said. 

"Sex on legs." Caitlyn followed. 

Tag gasped in shock at her sister. 

Frank chuckled.

Two very good opinions. 

"Perfect." Frank said, her head nodding slightly as she grabbed her purse and car keys. "Well then. Let's go. Can't keep the bastards waiting. I'll catch you up on all the gory details later Caity." Frank spun out the room in a flash of navy. 

It was official. 

Caitlyn O'hara was in love with Francesca Wellington. 

There went her fixation on Rupert Campbell Black. 

Unlike those who had arrived at Tony Baddingham's ridiculous party in some outrageous sports car, Frank had arrived upside down stuck in the backseat of the O'hara family's mini. Her heels pressed up against the car window made for a very naughty sight as the group pulled into the Baddingham drive. Lying on her back like she was about to give birth was the only way Frank could fit in the O'hara's car without ripping her tight dress. Freddie's car boot was beginning to sound much more appealing as she felt the seatbelt dig into her back. 

"Alright." Tag started, a giggle held behind her lips as she watched the heiress roll herself out of the car. "You ready?" 

Frank huffed slightly, Tag had been no help in heaving Frank's body out the car. The traitorous girl only laughing at her friend's misfortune. If Taggie wasn't so goddamn endearing Frank would've felt slightly put out. Declan and Maud had already left them behind. 

"Any chance I can still go home?" Frank asked. 

"Not a one." 

"Bollocks." Frank fixed her hair, the wild curls falling free behind her back. "Well then, let the games begin." 

Her mouth was wide open. She couldn't close it. Her lips gaping open like a fish as she stared at Tony Baddingham's luxurious soiree. It was ridiculous. Every fibre of the garden dripping wealth from its seams. Frank had grown up wealthy: she was an heiress with multiple properties and a trust fund with more money in it that she could ever spend but this was ridiculous. It was excessive. A band played in the centre of the room. Waiters draped in duck-tailed suits milled around the lawn. People dressed in bright summer attire dotted around the grounds like colourful ants. Frank couldn't help but feel mildly uncomfortable. 

Tony Baddingham loudly greeted the O'hara family, his eyes fixated on his shiny new star Declan as he skipped towards them. Frank all but ran in the opposite direction, slipping through the crowd as the eyes of the Cotswolds began to fixate on the famous Wellington heiress. They had been mildly distracted by Taggie: as they should and as Frank planned. But alas, the crowd was relentlessly invested in the heiress. She might have even dubbed them her groupies or fans if only they were slightly younger, more attractive and actually liked her. 

Francesca walked deeper into the room by herself, Taggie having been led astray by Lady Monica Baddingham.

It felt like she was an animal at the zoo. Her head held high and shoulders backwards as she strutted through the crowd. She could feel everyone watching her. Their inquisitive stares piercing her skin. She tried to appear nonchalant as she moseyed her way to the only other person at this party besides Taggie that she could stand. The only reason she came to this godforsaken party in the first place. 

Freddie Jones smiled when he saw her. 

"Glad you could make it." he started from his spot at the refreshment table, his hand holding one of Tony Baddingham's oversized silver serving spoons. Only a simple salad perched upon his plate. Looks like Valerie was limiting Fred's diet again. Frank would have to sneak him some chocolate cake on the side. The poor man deserved it. "I was getting worried." 

Frank cracked a grin. They were an unlikely pair, her and Fred, but for some reason the electronics mogul was one of her favourite people. Besides training, Frank had spent most of her time with the man. They had similiar hobbies, liked to watch the same telly and both had a deeply ingrained hatred for their entitled neighbours. 

A match made in heaven. 

"You know me Fred-Fred." Frank began, her eyes glancing around at the guests surrounding them. From her time at boarding school and in the public eye Frank had learned that if you stared at people long enough they stopped staring back at you. She made direct eye contact with James Vereker. He grinned his sleazy smile. She raised one eyebrow, deadpan. He looked away mildly sheepish. A win for all. "I always have to arrive fashionably late." 

Fred shook his head, his mouth moving to speak before his wife, Valerie Jones, promptly interrupted him. The blonde woman's hand gripping onto Frank in a clutch unbefitting for someone so petite. The Wellington heiress  was quickly led towards the rest of the Cotswolds' women, her eyes begging Fred for aid. 

Help me, her eyes said. 

Some socialising might do you some good, his replied.

Traitor.

Frank was convinced socialising is what would lead to her demise. She was pushed into a lawn chair opposite three women, Valerie's hand still wrapped around her shoulder to prevent Frank from bolting. The damn woman knew her too well. 

"So Francesca," A plump woman began,  Frank never could remember her name, "How do you like living in Rutshire? It must be so lonely living in that big old house. No parents, no husband..."

"Excuse me. Excuse me." 

Tony Baddingham rose to his feet, a speech on the tip of his tongue. Frank could have kissed him right then and there. 

The plump woman attempted to question Frank again, her wrinkly face closing in on Frank from across the lawn table. Lady Monica struck a gong. The plump woman and the rest of the party-goers immediately falling silent at the loud clanging sound. 

It appeared Frank had to kiss Lady Baddingham too now. Two for one Baddingham special. 

Tony Baddingham wafted into a speech, his words falling deaf on Franks ears as she breathlessly escaped her lawn chair and made her way through the crowd. Pretending to not hear Valerie Jones beckoning her back to the lawn table, Francesca appeared at Taggie's left shoulder. "Do you think Lady Monica uses that gong to keep Tony and the children in check?" . 

Taggie's elbow struck Frank in the ribs as the redhead tried to smother her giggles. A bit aggressive. 

Moments away from falling asleep standing up, Frank snapped back into focus at the interruption of Rupert Campbell Black walking into the garden with Beattie Johnson on his arm. Tony looked to be turning purple at Rupert's appearance. The former olympian strolling in with a smug grin on his tan face. Frank was briefly reminded of the last time she saw him, naked on his tennis court. The firefighters Taggie called must have gotten a hell of a surprise. 

Rupert and Beattie walked through the crowd. Tony's speech ending abruptly as people jumped back into gossip and getting drunk on the Buck's Fizz. Frank grabbed Taggie's hand, determined to avoid Valerie Jone's and her cronies for at least an hour. They disappeared into Tony's garden in a flurry of red hair and blue silk. 

A particular set of eyes watched them go. 

"I saw you getting aquatinted with Rutshire's best and brightest." Frank stated, her hand grazing one of  Tony's horses. The horse sniffed, its eyes watching the heiress closely as she ticked its ears. 

Taggie watched Frank, her gaze taking in how her new friend gently interacted with the horse. As Tag got to know Frank it became more and more apparent that the heiress preferred horses to people. Frank behaved a certain way in crowds. She wasn't shy. Rather, Frank was funny, sarcastic, charming, all the things a world famous athlete should be. But around animals, in a garden secluded from prying eyes, Tag bared witness to the genuine side of her new friend. The quieter, more gentle Frank who listened to Tag speak about her struggles with merely a patient smile and a tender ear. This was the Frank that Taggie could see herself being friends with for a very long time. Tag liked this Frank. 

"Yes." Taggie replied, a smile brimming to her lips as Frank encouraged her to move closer to the horse. Tag followed the heiress's lead. Her hand lightly stroked the edges of the horse's neck being mindful to be gentle. "They're quite a strange crowd aren't they? Lizzie's quite nice though."

Frank nodded, her eyes still locked on the animal in front of her. She was not close with Lizzie Vereker. The Vereker woman's husband, James, was so foul that  Frank had decided to steer clear of the entire Vereker clan. Lest she get booked on his boring show. She'd rather shove a fork in her eye. Lizzie Vereker did seem to be one of the more interesting characters in this town; a writer of a few famous bodice ripping novels. Maybe Frank would purchase one of her books and read it before making up her mind on the Vereker woman's character. 

Declan O'hara interrupted the two women's discussion, a serious expression painted on his face as he marched across the lawn to them "Tag, have you seen your mother anywhere?" 

And just like that Declan, Frank and Taggie were strolling through the Baddingham's extensive gardens looking for Maud O'hara. 

The small group walked at a brisk pace as they journeyed from hedge to hedge. Frank admired the greenery, her mind drifting back to the home of Rupert Campbell Black and his even more extensive gardens. She really had enjoyed his flowers. It was such a shame a naked woman on the run had interrupted Frank mid admiration. She never got to see what sort of lawn dressing the Campbell Black gardeners used to make their Patagonias grow so large. The two O'haras and Frank turned a corner, the subject of Frank's thoughts found perched closely to Maud O'hara on a garden bench. 

Rupert Campbell Black swallowed hard. His Adams apple bobbing up and down as his eyes caught sight of Francesca Wellington draped in blue silk stepping out from behind a rose bush. She looked ethereal, curly hair strewn across her back as her dress hugged her in all the right places. He had seen her earlier: disappearing into the crowd with a redhead on her arm. Beattie had quickly regained his attention then, clutching his arm lest his eyes strayed too far for too long. He had hoped he could avoid Francesca for the rest of the party.  It appeared fate had other ideas. She had all his attention now. 

He hadn't even noticed the angry looking Irish man coming to greet him as he gazed at her. Declan O'hara shook his hand, he mindlessly reciprocated.

His eyes continued to take in the heiress. The O'hara family introducing themselves as she hung behind, her fingers fidgeting with one of Tony's roses. He thought back to the last time he saw her. Her attention fully fixated upon his garden despite the presence of his naked body on display.

 No one had ever ignored Rupert Campbell Black as much as Francesca Wellington. 

She was so entitled. So peculiar. 

His eyes strayed from Francesca. He greeted Declan and Taggie; briefly remembering  that Tag was the redheaded woman who screamed at him on his tennis courts a week prior. The same redheaded woman he saw Francesca disappear from the party with only a few moments ago. They must have been friends. Tag's face blushed as he smiled at her. Seemed like she remembered their meeting as well. 

He ignored Francesca as he walked Declan and the rest of the Oharas inside for some of Tony's whiskey. 

She had ignored him, her mind fixated on his gardens. He would ignore her, his mind desperate to see how the so-called prodigy felt about not being in the spotlight for one moment. 

Her brow furrowed in confusion. He had ignored her flat.

That was strange. 

Smoke wafted through the billiard room as Maud puffed on a cigarette. Frank fidgeted slightly, her fingers twitching in want. She had had her one cigarette for the day, but the smell had her  bursting for another. 

She deserved another. 

She'd been questioned about her love life all day by nosy old women and her one moment of peace had been interrupted by Maud O'hara's nefarious behaviour with Rupert Campbell Black. Rupert had also been a prick, more so than expected. To her knowledge Frank had done nothing to upset the man. She had no clue as to why had he ignored her in the garden nor why he continued to ignore her now as he and Declan played pool.

She needed a cigarette.  Maud smoked camels. It wasn't the same brand as Frank. She strictly smoked Marlboro lights. She'd happily make an acceptation. 

A ball fell into the socket as Declan and Rupert conversed. Taggie, Maud and Frank condemned to spectators on the lounge chairs adjacent to the pool table. Rupert smiled cockily. Frank silently thought she could've sunk two times as many balls as him in the time it took for him to sink his few. 

The smug bastard. 

Tony Baddingham entered the room, his eyes zeroing on Francesca as she silently tried to inhale Maud's second hand smoke. 

"Tony has come to ask me to join his board." Rupert told Declan smugly, another ball falling into the socket. Tony glanced towards the former olympian. Lady Gosling did have her heart set on Rupert joining the board but Tony was a fickle man. Lord Baddingham knew Rupert would never willingly join the board and would try his level best to embarrass Tony in front of his newest employee: Declan. Tony wasn't going to let him win. Not again. He had another plan, a better one.  

"Actually Rupert I was here to speak to Lady Wellington." 

Bollocks. Frank had been so sure she was in the clear. She had avoided both Baddinghams for the entire afternoon and was dead sure Tony was focused on Rupert. There was no way Tony would want another woman on his board, no matter how famous Frank was. She knew Tony saw her as a spoilt little girl with family money; a cow he could prod for extra cash. She didn't think he'd ever ask her to join his board. She assumed Rupert was a bigger cow: with more influence, more cash and a dick to boot. The obvious better choice.

So much for assumptions. 

All eyes in the room fell to her. Rupert's face turning sour. He had been so sure Tony was going to ask him to join the board. Again, Francesca Wellington had stolen something that was rightfully his. His spot on the olympic team, his legacy, his neighbourhood and now even the thing he was going to hold over Tony's head. He hadn't even wanted to join the board, he just wanted to make Tony angry by saying no. 

"It's a very lucrative business, the media. would be a good thing to come home to when you're finished with your riding career Francesca." Tony attempted. His false grin failing to convince Frank. For a TV executive he was a terrible actor. 

"I don't do press." Frank replied. Her words decisive and final.

 No.

She merely said no. She didn't even attempt to play with Tony for added amusement. Rupert knew he would've been so much more creative with it. 

Though, he did enjoy how Tony's face fell. 

Small victories. 

Tony swiftly turned back towards Rupert. His false smile perched on his lips as he tried to beat down his fury. "Rupert?" he asked. "Lady Gosling would love to have you around her more. It's a great investment."

Great. Sloppy seconds. Rupert tried his level best to appear like it hadn't bothered him that he hadn't been asked first. He too shutting down Tony with a sarcastic comment before resuming his pool game. He had to keep his thoughts away from the curly haired heiress who sat only a few feet away from him. His veins hot with jealousy. 

He hated that she had such an effect on him. 

Paul and Sarah Stratton entered the room. Paul greeting Tony as Sarah smiled at Rupert. 

Frank's eyes widened slightly as she made eye-contact with the naked woman who had been rushing through Rupert's rose bushes. It appeared the woman was married to Paul Stratton. An adulterous rose bush destroyer. Sarah's grin disappeared when she caught sight of Frank and Taggie, fear spearing across her face. 

"Francesca Wellington. God am I excited to finally meet you." Paul Stratton stated, his large body rushing towards Frank as she remained seated on the chaise lounge. 

Taggie left the room in a hurry. Frank longed to follow. 

"Paul Stratton correct?" Frank asked, a small grin perched on her lips. He nodded, his  excitement palpable on his face. "My mother knew your first wife Winifred. Lovely woman." 

His smile fell instantly. 

Frank left the room. 

Francesca found Taggie on the Baddingham's staircase looking mildly anxious. The heiress's brow furrowed with worry as she sat down next to the redhead. "What's wrong?" Frank asked, slightly rubbing Tag's shoulder. 

"I think I just told Tony Baddingham that Sarah Stratton was the naked woman playing tennis with Rupert."

Of all the answer to her question, Frank was not expecting Taggie to say that. The heiress failed to reply, only rubbing Tag's shoulder at a slightly quicker pace. 

Taggie looked helplessly at Frank. "You don't think he'll say anything do you?" 

Frank knew beyond a doubt Tony would most likely tell the entirety of Colchester by the end of the party. 

"How about we get some more Buck fizz?"

Tag groaned. 

Leaning against the Buck Fizz table Frank calmly sipped her drink as she surveyed the room. Taggie fidgeted anxiously next to her. Maybe Taggie needed a cigarette. Though Frank doubted Tag would ever smoke. 

"Oh no Frank look." Tag quietly exclaimed, her eyes the size of saucers as she pointed across the lawn. 

Tony Baddingham was whispering in Beattie Johnson's ear. The journalist's hair seemingly getting larger and larger as she shook with rage. The woman stormed across the dance floor, her chunky clogs stomping their way to the refreshment table. 

Beattie slapped Rupert across the face with such a fury that a red imprint remained on his tan face. 

Paul Stratton ran towards Rupert like a bull with bad balance. Rupert avoided him, the overweight MP falling head first into the refreshment table. Frank thought it was quite ironic that Paul was so upset about his second wife's adulterous acts. That was how he met Sarah in the first place. Definitely the pot calling the kettle black type of scenario.

The chaos continued as Rupert walked away from the party, Paul Stratton scraping cake off his face as Sarah Stratton tried to repair her reputation by guiltily exclaiming that her and Rupert's rendezvous "was only tennis!" 

"We should go apologise." Tag began, the palm of her hand pulling Francesca's arm in the direction Rupert had walked off to. 

"For exposing the adulterous MP's adulterous second wife? I thought it was brilliant. Karma and all that." Frank tried, her feet dragging behind Tag as the redhead marched on across Tony's lawn. 

Guess there was no stoping Taggie now. 

Rupert was standing silently in Tony's driveway. His linen suit billowing against his lean body in the wind of Beattie Johnson's departure. She had driven off at a speed that would make an F1 driver proud. It was mildly impressive. 

Taggie stayed behind Frank, her sudden confidence fading in an instant. Frank stared at her friend in betrayal; it was obvious that Tag never actually meant to apologise to Rupert. Frank was going to be the one to apologise for the both of them. 

Bloody woman with her red waves and adorable freckles. She was impossible to deny. 

Frank walked a few steps closer towards Rupert. 

Rupert turned at the sound of approaching footsteps, a grin on his face. He expected to see the sweet redheaded daughter of Declan O'hara. He was instead greeted with the wild curls of Francesca Wellington. 

His grin disappeared. 

"We're sorry." She started gently, "We didn't mean to expose you like that in front of everyone." 

Rupert hadn't really cared. His nefarious tennis match with Sarah Stratton was bound to come to light one way or another. The gossip of Rutshire was relentlessly efficient. He had only been mildly inconvenienced by Beattie Johnson driving off in his car. He'd have to walk the kilometre home. 

"Yeah well," He started, his eyes fixated on the sheepish expression painted across the heiress's face. He thought back to how she ignored him when she won the olympic medal: her eyes more focused on the shiny gold piece of shit that was her medal instead of acknowledging him.  How she failed to acknowledge that she took his seat on the Olympic team. He thought of how she ignored him on the tennis court: her eyes more focused on his roses than his naked body.  He thought of how lucky she was, how she had everything he wanted but never would have again. He could have been nice: forgiven her with a charming grin and then maybe later he could have charmed her delicious dress right off of her body. He could have been nice. 

But she didn't deserve nice. 

"you just lost me my bloody car." 

Frank's face fell. A mixture of shock and fury igniting within her body.

What a prick. 

"You can fucking walk." 

She turned and stormed away, dragging an equally as shocked Taggie behind her. 

Rupert cracked a smile.  As much as he hated her he had to admit:

she looked mildly sexy furious. 

[vitanithepure]

I was tagged by @malewife-mansplain-magus to share 10 songs selected on shuffle from my on repeat playlist. Let's see what the shuffle will bring in! :D

Wrong Side of Heaven - Five Finger Death Punch

I Don't Feel Like Dancin' - Scissor Sisters

Martwe Morze - Budka Suflera

Only Us - Miracle of Sound

Soldier Side - System Of A Down

Sympathy for the Devil - The Rolling Stones

The Night Begins to Shine - B.E.R.

This is Gospel - Panic! At The Disco

Don't Tell Me - Madonna

Code Name Vivaldi - The Piano Guys

As per usual, without any pressure, I tag @iamaweretoad @illithiad and everyone seeing this and wanting to join in! :)

[theancientfootsteps]

I have to thank you for this reply because it definitely made me realize I was being pretty careless about this whole conversation. I was frustrated with a few particular people I'd seen posting about their Christian witchcraft and saying things that seemed very disrespectful in my eyes, so I just reblogged this like "yeah I'm annoyed by this thing!!" without really thinking about the implications of some of the exact things that were said.

But what you're saying is absolutely right, we really need to be careful not to generalize about paganism. To me this post had no connection at all to, for example, my friend who is pagan. But that doesn't mean there was no implied connection. And we can't let our frustrations with the practices of a particular subgroup of people let us forget that, as you say in your tags, antipaganism has done far more harm than Christian witchcraft ever will.

And I love your last point as well, I hadn't thought about it that way but I resonate with it a lot. I used to do tarot a LOT, I was quite the enthusiast and I still have many different tarot decks on my bookshelves. But I stopped very soon after converting to Christianity. Not because I thought I wasn't allowed to do it anymore, but because I simply didn't feel the need to. Anytime I was struggling with or wondering about something I would previously consult the cards for, I found myself wanting to pray about it instead. It happened naturally because of my closeness to God.

Sorry, these are kind of disconnected thoughts I wouldn't usually bother putting in a reblog, but I just wanted to acknowledge your thoughtful response and how it made me reconsider some things!

like I get it, being witchy and occult is in vogue right now, and I’m not ever going to tell someone it isn’t real or it’s not a valid spiritual practice

but we have a God who spent an excruciatingly long amount of time explaining to us how She wanted to be worshiped. part of worshiping a specific god of any sort in any pantheon is being aware of their preferences and desires - why is the way She wants us to worship Her no longer good enough? why do we need to look elsewhere? we are not supposed to divine, to use magic, to invoke without cause. there are rules. we should follow them.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

auction results done for @ouchpotatoex as a part of the 2024 @marveltrumpshate charity event: thank you so much for your generosity and donations !!!!

[jiauro]

Heavy is no longer my least played class

[misternibbs]

shitty comic that doesn't really mean much WOOOOOOO happy new year

I'm glad I have something to look forward to.

[tagarilaghost]

I SWEAR CELEBI'S THINGY IS COMING SOON BUT I REALLY WANTED TO POST THIS ALRIGHT

yeaah... future trio got me too...

and Darkrai is there too, because of course he is.

hey look i drew a cute Drifloon :D

...ignore the rest

whatever started at Darkrai doodles ended in brainrot of future trio + darkrai and I'm blaming @scribz-ag24 for this

[crimeronan]

well. this Did just make me burst into tears. (which is probably good since i've needed to cry for days.)

yeah. yeah That's how it feels....

[paintpanic]

Calculating probability of survival... It doesn't look good.